AN: This will be a pretty good-sized story, so expect many more chapters to come. It might be slow to start, and slow to explanation, but that will come in later chapters. Please tell me what you think!

Legacy of the Serpents

Ch. 1: The Veiled Stranger

The Riddle house hid every trace of light. Voldemort sat at the head of his table, with no other death eater but one, Antonin Dolohov. "Antonin, come into the basement with me." Voldemort ordered. Antonin sat across the table, his black bangs hiding one of his eyes.

Antonin nodded. "Yes, m'lord." They both rose and made their way to the steps, to the first floor, and then into the basement.

The basement smelled moldy, and the air was moist. There was such little light descending the staircase that one would've thought he was lost in a nightmare of oblivion. But as the basement came into view, so did the light emanating from a source in the corner of the basement.

"Antonin, meet," he gestured, "my daughter." Voldemort smiled eerily, his sharp teeth grazing his bottom lip. Antonin's eyes followed, and saw a magically suspended crystal box containing a large, black egg.

"M'lord, this – your daughter? How – with who?" He stuttered.

"In time, I will explain everything to you. But what I am going to tell you is of great importance." Voldemort snapped. He walked over to the crystal box and started stroking it. "Antonin … I have chosen you as Loxvi's caretaker. As such, you will feed her, teach her, and house her after her birth. Do you understand?" Voldemort's gaze pierced into Antonin's. Antonin knew that, though he wasn't planning on it, denial would be suicide.

"I – I am honored, m'lord. You are so kind as to grace my presence with your kin." He groveled.

"It is done, then. Loxvi, meet your caretaker: Antonin Dolohov." Voldemort smiled, continuing to stroke the crystal box.

The egg pulsated with a crackling energy as an unspoken bond formed.

(Six Years Later)

Harry was locking the door just as Ginny pulled up into the driveway. He heard her slam the car door.

"Are you leaving again?" He flinched. He'd been doing a good job of leaving before she got home, but it seemed Ginny was trying her hardest to make it home earlier than usual – probably to catch him in the act.

"Uh – uhm, Yeah." He stuttered. Ginny stomped over, her heels clicking on the cement.

"And where are you going?" Still staring at the doorknob, he didn't respond. She grabbed his wrist and yelled, "Damnit, answer me, Harry!"

He could only assume that her eyes were full of rage right now, for that was the last place he wanted to look. He could hear her breathing become heavy.

"Harry, look at me! Damnit, look at me!" She yelled.

"Ginny, stop yelling. The neighbors are looking at us." Harry ground out.

"I don't care who's looking at us! I'm so bloody sick, and tired, of the way you've been sneaking around London! There are people out there that hate you, Harry, do you understand that? Do you understand that you could be killed somewhere and I wouldn't even know where to look for you? You – you make me so worried!" Ginny choked up. He only looked up when he heard her crying.

"Oh, Ginny…" He sighed, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm… sorry."

She scrambled out of his hold. "That's what you said last time, Harry; and the time before that!" She screamed through her sobs. She glared at him, and then quickly went into the house, locking the door behind her.

Part of him was angry, he had to admit. He knew Ginny was right, so he didn't know why he was so angry. He felt empty. Every day was so monotonous. It didn't help that he never bothered looking for a job, but he had so much money; it would've been pointless to have one. The only thing it would've served was keeping his mind off of the monotony.

He knew one thing for certain: If he admitted to spending all of his time with a bottle of whiskey instead of her, he'd be in for it.

The mauve potion hissed and bubbled as Draco Malfoy threw in the last remnants of Asphodel. "There," he yawned and stretched, "Last one for the night." He lowered his arms and went to retrieve some vials in a cabinet on the far wall. After bottling up the supply in the cauldron, he removed the floor rug, opened up the vault door, and placed them carefully inside. He relocked it, and placed the rug over it.

Draco Malfoy was leaving behind a very long day. He had a day like this every week, and he dreaded it. It was the day for brewing the "Esprit sur le Corps" potions.

Draco apparated back to Malfoy manor and proceeded to walk back to his room. His parents were always asleep by the time he was done with his nightly errand, so it was always a lonely walk.

He lay awake in his bed, his mind going over the events that had led up to his current schedule.

"This is a very special part of the operation, Draco. I hope you understand this."

"I do, Lady Loxvi. But I wonder why you don't employ the technique of our former Lord."

"Well," She chuckled charmingly, "it was an unintelligent and cocky give-away. Don't you think, dear Draco?"

Aside from everything else he'd heard about Lady Loxvi, she operated so differently from Lord Voldemort. It allowed him and his family to follow someone who held up the pureblood ideals, but without the fear of getting constantly spat upon, from either wizarding society or Loxvi herself.

As Draco drifted into sleep, however, he always had nagging thoughts creep upon him: Loxvi was always hiding something. With Voldemort, he would've known instantly if his family was in danger. He wasn't so certain with Loxvi. Loxvi could strike in the night, and there would've been no warning for her victims.

Harry arrived at The Hog's Head just as sunlight was waning. He preferred the later hours when people wouldn't be able to see him as clearly, but he'd been forced to come earlier so he could try and escape Ginny. He knew it was wrong to think of her like that, but that's how he'd started to feel. He suspected the alcohol was only driving a greater chasm between them, but it had already become a large part of his schedule.

"What'll you be havin' tonight, Mr. Potter?" asked an old, cloaked witch.

"Eh… Firewhiskey."

"Ogden's Old, I assume?" She turned around, fumbling with the drinks on the lower shelf.

"Yes, ma'am." He replied as a dusty bottle was clunked in front of him.

"I'll put it on yer tab." She wheezed.

Harry nodded, popped the cap, and took a swig. He rubbed his arm across his mouth, and looked around the pub. Not many people – as usual.

He was finished with his bottle by the time the pub was only lit by candlelight. He ordered another, and sipped on it as his mind swirled with thoughts of him and Ginny. What was holding them together? The house? The thought of someday having a family? Ron and Hermione? At all of these, he had to shake his head. His schedule even interfered with them having sex, as when he got home, Ginny was already fast asleep.

Harry sighed. He'd been thinking this over for a couple of months now, only to try and drown the thoughts out with another shot of whiskey. He knew he needed help, but he didn't think there was help to be had. Knowing Ginny was at home made him feel like he didn't have to come home to an empty house; and really, that was the only thing he could think of which kept them together.

As he took another swig, he heard someone plop down into the seat beside him. He jumped, but kept staring straight ahead. Better to ignore the person than start a confrontation, he thought.

"Hello, Mr. Potter." At the mention of his name, he faced the man beside him. He was covered in a tattered, dark green cloak and from what he could see, his face was covered in scars. His voice was deep and gravelly.

"No, I don't have any money." he said, and turned back to watching the barmaid.

"I'm not lookin' fer yer money, Mr. Potter." At that, Harry turned to him. The man scowled at him and said, "There is somethin' you need to know. Curse me if what I tell you isn't important. But – I can't tell you down here. Meet me upstairs in room six." The man gave Harry one last look and stumbled from the table, and went upstairs.

His breath sped up. If he went up there … "There are people out there that hate you, Harry, do you understand that?" Ginny's voice echoed. Harry threw some money down on the counter and wobbled his way out of the Hog's Head. 'I'll be damned if I die tonight.'