Memory

by Vacni

Neville was hailed as The boy who lived that fateful night and Harry was sent to live with the Dursley's because he is a parselmouth. Harry is ignored in this war torn world until discovering a book that restores his memories of a past life, as one of the founders.

1. Prologue

Prologue

When You Know Who failed to kill Neville Longbottom, he was hailed as The Boy Who Lived and the war between the dark and light came to a standstill, neither side was really safe, both wary of the other so I ended up living with my Aunt and Uncle, 'for protection'. That's what they told themselves. In reality they didn't want me; I was a freak, a Parselmouth, something dark, something that no light family could bear to have. I came to Hogwarts not even knowing my own name, I was invisible there, unlike at my aunt and uncle's. Everyone was too busy fanning over The Boy Who Lived. I am now in my Fifth year here and I only have 3 friends, one of whom is Ron Weasley who has gotten into trouble for a book he had in his possession, and is now in detention.

Which is why I am here now, pacing the seventh floor corridor, impatiently waiting for the door to open for me. I was told about the room of Hidden things by a Seventh Year, a place that I could hide my copy of the book. Finally the door appeared and I opened it to find myself in a huge room. Every item that you could imagine were staked together to create a birds nest, but it felt like every item in this room belonged.

I wandered down the aisles looking for a place to hide my book among the cloaks and fanged Frisbees and other items. My eyes were drawn to a stack of books that were sitting on an antique table that could have been worth a small fortune; I started towards the books until I could see the titles of them, The secrets of the Hidden Arts, Blood Magic, The Amulet on Amaradh. Placing my book next to the pile, I picked up The Amulet of Amaradh before dusting of the cover and opening it to the first page. There was a rune on the page, one that we haven't covered in Ancient Runes. I traced the rune and I could feel the steady hum of the magic inside it, I finished tracing it with my finger when the magic peaked, I could feel it as it surged up my arm and into my heart, before I knew no more.

When I came to, memories came flooding back to me, of another life, one that I had lived over 1,000 years ago, when I was known as SALAZAR SYLTHERIN.