Holt - Son of the Unspoiled Forest
A dark man stalked through the forest. This land had belonged to his mother's family for generations stretching back so far that history itself had forgotten when they had arrived. His father, possessed of a distinctive wanderlust that plagued his family, had strayed up to these northern woods and become lost. The forest was a cruel and haunted place, full of dangers, and it was a wonder that the pair had found each other in the twisted underbrush. They loved one another still, the dark man liked to think, and he thought that assumption was justified. Love was a powerful magic that lasted well past death, and since they had been buried together in the heart of the wood three years ago many of the outright evil creatures that lived here had either fled or been found dead. There were still many dangers in this forest, but death is necessary for life. The man stepped into a clearing and turned his emerald eyes to the sky. The quarter moon lit the sky, accompanied by her chorus of stars. Darkness and evil were so often confused by the young, the blind, and the foolish. His own best friend found him creepy.
The raven haired man smiled as he thought of the hot-tempered man who was most likely asleep; along with most of the castle they called home. There would be a lamp lit in the library, he was sure, with a witch and possibly a few of her students up late doing research over the holiday. He envied her ability to dive into old tomes and loose herself to her research. He had inherited his father's wanderlust and couldn't be contained by the walls of the castle.
A rustle in the underbrush caught his attention. The dark man dropped down into a crouch, concealing his tall frame in the weedy brush at the edge of the forest. The quiet sound of scales on leaves was coming closer, and the man relaxed a little though he did not rise.
"Friend, is that you?" The man hissed.
"Yes, Lord of the Forest, it is Cerberus." The large black viper replied, sliding into view between the branches.
"Why have you come to me, Cerberus? I have never come across you in this wood save when you need me." The gaunt man held out a hand to caress the deadly beauty. The snake curled against it much like a touch-starved kitten, and would have purred in pleasure if it had the ability.
"There has been a disturbance. A human, barely out of the shell, has come to the forest in a most violent way." The dark creature sounded unsure and curious. "The magical outburst was considerable. If I did not know the strength of the wards around your home I would be surprised you did not already know of it."
"Point the way, and please explain what you mean as we go."
"It appeared in a brilliant flash of magic, Lord, and has slept since. Most of the creatures of the forest fear it and will not come near. The ground is scorched and the trees bent away from the force of the magic. There is no scent I could taste over the burnt wood and overturned earth, but it sleeps peacefully at the center and appears unharmed. I can say there is not much if any blood on the human, but no more." The curious serpent slithered along the forest floor. They moved through the forest quickly, passing like a breeze through the thick undergrowth and leaving little evidence of their passing. They seemed to melt through the trees rather than turning to go around them. It wasn't long before the potions trained nose of his human Lord could pick up the rich scent of burnt sod and freshly plowed earth. They neared the place where this mystery child lay. Magic sparkled violently in the air as they neared, giving the odd pair an uneasy feeling. Clearly, it was meant as a warning to stay back.
"By the moon and stars…" the Lord gasped as he looked at the trees ahead. The trees had been pushed back into a near solid circle, a cricket would be lucky to squeeze through the trunks and reach the tiny heap of tattered clothes at the center, but Cerberus showed him where the circle of trees was open on one side. It was barely wide enough for him to walk through without stepping sideways, but only just. The Lord entered the cleared space carefully, leaving deep footprints in the plowed earth. The sheer force that it would take to shove back trees that had stood rooted in place for centuries untold…he shook himself out of his wonder and knelt carefully over the sleeping child. There was no telling if the magic that hung thick in the air was set to attack a perceived threat or if it was simply the leftover imprint of the explosion that pushed back the forest. He moved cautiously, ready to bolt back out the opening at a moment's notice.
As he turned the child over he noticed the clothing was oversized and threadbare. Beneath the loose clothing there were bruises and cuts, and for a moment the Lord wondered if this was some overly powerful and disgusting way to get rid of an unwanted child, before he noticed that many of the bruises were in the shape of a large hand. Rage coursed its way through him, but he clamped down on it. Becoming angry would not help the fragile child lying in the rich earth before him, and might just bring that magical residue down on his head. He lifted the child gently, cradling it as gently as he could. The rags were too torn to tell him anything, but a quick check told him he was holding a boy. The young boy was, as Cerberus had said, barely old enough to be called a boy. Going by size alone the gaunt man would say he held a toddler, but the proportions and shape of the face made it clear that the tiny boy was at least four if not older. The child stirred as the Lord stood.
"I am Lord Salazar Slytherin, and you are safe with me. No child in my care has ever come to harm, by my hand or otherwise," the Lord soothed. "You have nothing to fear from me or this wood." The child settled down into deep sleep again without truly waking and the dark man left the clearing as quickly as he dared. Once some distance was put between him and the clearing he broke into a sprint, flying across the ground with practiced grace. In no time Hogwarts castle appeared through the trees, the warm glow of firelight illuminating the raven-haired pair as they broke through the last of the underbrush. Lord Salazar looked down at the young wizard – the magic of the clearing had clung to the child so fiercely it could only have been the child's own doing – and saw a strange scar peaking out from between the bruises on the boy's face. A lightning bolt was etched into the center of the boy's forehead, not quite spanning the distance between his hairline and his nose. It seemed fitting, given that he had appeared in a flash, and he had to wonder if the child had received it when he appeared in the clearing.
A/N: I know I should be updating DP, but this has been bouncing around in my head so long I just had to do it. I'll be trying out a very loose style in this one, and won't keep track of every day of the story the way I do with DP. Salazar is indeed 'from fen' as is said in cannon, or at least his father's family is. I'm having his mum be a Scott to have him meet Rowena when he's a half pint and make him more worldly. He would have traveled back and forth from England to Scottland in his youth, exposing him to more at an early age.