Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Written for the Triwizard Tournament.
A ten year old boy sits on a cold floor with his legs crossed, he no ordinary boy even among own kind he is considered something extridoniary.
He something new and that frightened others.
The Muggles in the small town he'd lived in with his mother before they'd fled to this place had thought he'd been cursed by the gods or at least thats what his mother had said.
So they came here to live among their own kind, witches and wizards.
To his grandparents house, he remembers the day they came like it was yesterday even though he'd only turned one when they came here.
His grandmother standing at the door and looking at him like he was something hideous then saying "So it survived then? I must say I'm surprised everyone of the others created that way have been born dead".
Whenever his grandmother or grandfather spoke about him they called him it "It has the eyes of one" or "It can speak to snakes like them".
Until he was seven he didn't know what "Them" and when he found out he wished he hadn't.
"Them" were something ancient with no name and were facing extinction after finding out that their woman had became infertile, not quite human but not quite reptilian either. A combination of the two, they'd been part of the magical world before witches and wizards even before Goblins and Centaurs.
For centuries they'd kept themselves apart from the rest of the wizarding world until they'd wanted to ensure that part them survived after they'd died out.
So the males spread out around the world, looking for a female that was magically strong enough to bare them a child and until his mother none had successfully bore a child.
He was the first of something new, something darker and it didn't matter that he didn't want to be.
Dark, thats the word his mother had used to describe his father when he'd been brave enough to ask one night, his father had oozed dark magic that what she said.
The boy who sat on the cold floor with his legs crossed is twelve years old now.
He has come to accept what he is, even if his grandparents and their friends hadn't, his mother the only person who'd loved was dead.
She'd died a month before his twelfth birthday, what of no one had told him and since then he had not smiled once until today.
One of the snakes he'd ordered to go in search for others like him had returned with the most wonderful news, two more like him had been born into the same family.
The snake only had a surname, Slytherin.
The snake hadn't actually seen or spoken to the children, one of "Them" had told the snake of the two.
He couldn't help smiling about it, two more that were dark and powerful that forge empires that wouldn't crumble.
Because that's why they'd survived when the others hadn't, that's why he'd survived.
Because him something new that was meant to lead and shape those who weren't great like him.
He'd figured that out after his mother's death, he and those like him to survive no matter what.
He would never let death take him, like it took his mother and like it was taking "Them" and if the others like him were smart they wouldn't either.
That smiling boy is no longer a boy, he is a man now.
A man who has done horrible things, things that would drive any pure soul to insanity, but he is not a pure soul.
This man's soul torn and ripped into shreds to create the most hideous thing to ensure he doesn't die, torn by the dark spells he'd created.
There was nothing human left of this man, no trace of the boy his mother had loved.
The only thing that was left was some monster who'd do anything to survive, the only companions, he had was the dark creature he'd created.
Those that had been born like him had fled, scattered themselves around the world to keep themselves from getting becoming what he was.
It disappointed him greatly that the instinct to defeat death hadn't emerged in them, but he knew one day it would.
Maybe not in them, but in one of their descendents, centuries down the line.
But it would happen, they'd use the same methods he had and use the very spells he'd created to do it.
So he'd wait here in the place he'd built and if that descendent was worthy he'd revel himself, aid him or her in their cause.
No matter how long it took he was going to wait for another like him.
It was a pity, a great pity; Tom had shown such promise and yet he'd gotten his Horcruxes and himself destroyed.
The first one to show real promise in centuries got himself destroyed by a teenage boy, he couldn't help the disappoint he felt.
So long he had waited for another like him to have them fail and against a boy.
Now he'd to wait for another to show any little inkling of being like him, now he'd wait for centuries for another.
AN: Thank you for reading and please leave a review.