The True Heir of Slytherin

by Foadar

Salazar Slytherin had not one but two sons. However, his eldest was a squib. As an infamous blood-purist, this could not do. His son was exiled, lived his life in the muggle world, married and had kids. Many generations later, magic resurfaces. Follow the story of Stanley and eventually Selena Slytherin as they go through Hogwarts. Will contain OC's and OFC's. All critique welcome.

1. Chapter 1 (Year One)

I

Magic functions in a most curious way. Albus Dumbledore had found that out in 1981, when young Harry Potter had become the Boy-Who-Lived, surviving the Killing Curse, and now, almost a decade later, when the H.O.R.N.S.(Hogwarts Office of Registration of New Students) sent him a peculiar Muggle-born case to inform. Normally, an acceptance letter to a student was written in standard black ink by his dearest Minerva.

But this one was not. Its ink was green. Other colours had not been seen in nearly seven centuries, as they were reserved for the heirs of the founders. The last to carry the name was one Viola Slytherin, descended directly from the Serpent-Tongue himself, and as capable as her distant relative, in the early 15th century, who married a wizard known as Valerius Gaunt, who would become the ancestor to Tom. And now green ink had been used again.

Stanley Slytherin, it read. A line thought broken, or so it was known.

What Dumbledore, and indeed wizarding history, did not know, was that Salazar Slytherin had two sons. One, who proved magical and followed his father's stead as a capable wizard, blood-purist and Parselmouth. The other, the eldest of the two, was a squib. When the ever noble Salazar Slytherin found this out, the son was disowned and sent to London, where he lived out his days as a muggle would, yet married and continued his line. All mention of him was removed by the influential Slytherin, and knowledge of his existence eventually faded from wizarding history.

Now, more then nine centuries later, magic had resurfaced amongst the line of the elder brother. By then, their magical heritage had long been forgotten, and all that remained from their illustrious ancestor was an ancient book, crowned with the Slytherin coat of arms, where each subsequent generation had noted themselves down, each having a page of their own in a now extensive book.

The true heir to the infamous Serpent-Tongue was essentially Muggle-Born. Yet that did not deter the Quill of Acceptance from writing his name and that of his younger sister down in the Book of Admittance, the powerful spells detecting the already abundant magical presence in both of them.

Thus, when Minerva McGonagall made her way to the Small Locked Tower, officially known as H.O.R.N.S., and checked the book near the end of the summer holidays, she went pale when she saw the name, as elegantly written as the others. Stanley Slytherin, all in green. After her initial shock had passed, she was baffled even further when she saw his status. Muggle-born.

''That line was broken ! '' she whimpered in the otherwise ever quiet room.

The Quill of Acceptance and the Book of Admittance had a spotless record. No matter how hard she wished to deny it, the Heir of Slytherin will soon return to Hogwarts.

In that state she had given the letter to Dumbledore, who now sat silent in his study. Pondering, thinking.

He saw the obvious meaning of this too. The Heir of Slytherin will return to Hogwarts.

Yet this was unique. No-one in living memory but his dearest friend Nicholas Flamel, who by all accounts was an exception to most rules, had known a name-baring heir of the Serpent Tongue.

Regaining himself, he at last read the full address of the letter.

MR S. SLYTHERIN

THE SMALLEST ROOM ON THE FIRST FLOOR

MAGNOLIA CRESCENT 13,

LITTLE WHINGING,

SURREY,

He would go himself. The Heir to Slytherin living within a block of the Chosen One required extreme caution he could only trust himself with.

But he did not take the letter with him. Instead, he threw it into the fire. Maybe, just maybe, he could end this threat to the Chosen One before it ever became to be.

On the other side of the country a large boy played football with a much smaller, scrawnier boy. They were the same age, but the larger boy was a full head taller than his friend. One had piercing, sapphire eyes, the other bright green emeralds shaped in the form of almonds. Both had jet-black hair, but one had coarse hair and the other had an unruly mess his aunt had tried many times to tame, but never quite succeeded.

One might have thought it unfair for the smaller boy if one saw but a glance, but if you looked closer, you would see that the smaller boy was actually winning, using his smaller size and relatively agility to his advantage to out-move the heavier, and slightly slower larger boy.

It was the middle of summer, but earlier that day clouds had come, stopping the sun from reaching its full, scorching heat and instead giving a pleasant temperature on this summer day. A pleasant breeze further kept them cool on that July afternoon.

Unknown to both of them, Albus Dumbledore stood watching under an invisibility cloak. He had stumbled upon them after following Harry's tracking charms leading him to this field not far from Privet Drive, in an attempt to disprove his suspicions.

He would have tried to hear their conversation, but despite the best of his abilities, he simply could not. They were speaking in Parseltongue. Strange hissing sounds made up whatever they were talking about, and he could only guess to the content without breaking into their minds.

The larger boy Harry was playing with was his target. The Serpent Tongue's heir.

Tomorrow, he would inform this Slytherin.

For now, he simply observed.