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-This chapter was revised on Feb 18th 2019.
Salazar had long since abandoned the Dursleys. The moment he could protect himself with his magic, he left them behind, making his home in the Forbidden Forest. Though he did miss Molly and Pomona and he'd return every few days to help them, he was no longer a slave to Petunia and Vernon. Was never meant to be one apparently.
Salazar's shoulder length hair was swept back, a dark fringe covering the hideous scar on his brow.
Minerva knew that he was coming into his own and as she too was getting older, she couldn't make the frequent trips to visit him any longer. So Salazar relieved her of her promise to help him and visited her instead, fixing appliances and generally helping whenever she needed it.
Salazar was only fifteen, soon to be sixteen, but he had grown stronger thanks to Luna and Maeri. The creatures in the forest were helpful and just seemed to love him no matter what. Even the Acromantula were kind and protected him against danger. In return he would summon animals for them to feed on.
It was all a cycle. They helped each other. In the process, Salazar learned not to fear the forest and those who inhabited it. Even the ones that had horrible stories and myths published about them, were kind to him. Luna said it was his charm.
He simply liked to believe that they were nice and that others were simply too negative regarding them. Non-magical people were far too quick to believe the bad things as opposed to the good.
On Salazar's sixteenth birthday, he was awoken by Azog, one of the many sons of Aragog and Mosag. He was of the smaller Acromantula though and could actually fit inside the little house Salazar had transfigured for himself.
He wasn't scared to awaken to the sight of eight hairy legs and eyes. He'd gotten used to it over the last year and took it to mean that he was trusted. He merely sat up, rubbed his eyes clean, and asked what the matter was.
"Magical," snipped Azog. "Magical walks the forest. He has power. He is dangerous. He speaks to serpents. May summon the serpent king and kill all of us."
A man was walking through the forest. He could speak to serpents and Azog was worried that he might summon a Basilisk to rid the forest of the Acromantula colony.
"Luna!"
Said fairy appeared in a sprinkling of gold light, looking fresh and joyous. "Good morning, Salazar."
"Do you think I can fight off the man in the forest or should I reason with him?" asked Salazar, feeling a bit frightened, but willing to go out and face this stranger if it was necessary to protect his friends.
"Do not fight. I think… only you could ever reason with him," Luna said mysteriously.
While Salazar was indeed confused, she'd never been wrong before. He nodded firmly and rolled off his collection of blankets that he used as a bed. With a wave of the hand, he was changed and clean, ready to tackle whatever sort of drama was thrown at him that day.
"I'll do it."
He took his staff in hand, Septimus slithering around his hand like a wristlet that could protect him should it be necessary. With a final nod of preparation, Salazar departed.
Lord Voldemort had entered the Dark Forest that morning in search of ingredients for his potions. He knew that his presence unnerved the creatures within, but he cared not for their discomfort. He needed to make a potion.
Nagini, who was slithering through the foliage beside him, hissed a warning that a human was coming and Voldemort didn't bother to look, for none matched him in terms of power and he knew his barriers and shields would easily stop any attack. If someone wished to do him any harm they would sorely regret their poor choices eventually.
The footfalls of the newcomer were dainty and careful, but no less assured. This person knew the forest well if they weren't tripping over roots and stones every few seconds. Voldemort found himself actually curious and cast a glance in the direction of the sounds, his eyes lighting upon the small figure of a young boy. Perhaps not a boy, but certainly no man. He was much too delicate to ever pass for anything but a teenager.
Voldemort had not expected to be faced with such an interesting young one though. He bore a staff, much like Voldemort's own but much smaller. Walked with confidence, possessed eyes that reminded Voldemort of his magic, and had an air about him that screamed importance and demanded protection.
Voldemort felt himself drawn to the figure in dark robes. Almost as if he was being compelled by the boy.
"The Acromantula said a Speaker had entered the forest and they worry that you plan to summon a Basilisk," the boy said instead of a greeting or even introducing himself.
Voldemort's annoyance was only minute as he was impressed that the little thing was so brazen as to accuse Lord Voldemort so openly.
But perhaps, he did not know who stood before him. It would certainly explain the lack of fear in his scent.
§The Hatchling smells of magic,§ hissed Nagini. §Very powerful magic.§
§Thank you,§ said the boy, much to Voldemort's and Nagini's surprise. Though the child didn't look shocked in the least that he understood a serpent.
Nagini had never been a shy creature and she took it upon herself to investigate the child by slithering on over and rearing up to regard him more closely. §You are a Speaker, Hatchling?§
§Yes,§ the boy agreed easily.
Not many were born with the ability. In the last century, only Voldemort had the privilege. But now there was this strange boy. The boy who turned his attention to Voldemort.
"Are you going to harm any of the creature in here?"
And they were back to the Emperor's English.
"If they do not seek to harm me first, I shall deal them no harm," he replied, more intrigued with the young one than his former plans of acquiring potions ingredients. "I won't be held responsible for what happens if I must defend myself however."
The boy looked behind him and made several clicking noises which were followed by more guttural clicking noises. Voldemort was enraptured as he watched a young Acromantula slowly approach the boy, clicking its pincers, four of its eyes trained on Nagini and the other four on the boy.
And Voldemort understood. The boy was speaking Acromantula.
The giant spider trailed back into the forest without turning, and the boy faced Voldemort once more.
"I am curious to know why a child is wandering about the Dark Forest," said Voldemort as he bent down to continue plucking his ingredients once more. "You realise the danger of such a place."
"I don't wander, I live here," the boy sniffed imperiously. "And besides, I am sixteen, not a child."
Older than what Voldemort had formerly assumed.
"And whom would you be, to be so comfortable to reside within the darkest of forests?"
"I am Salazar. Who are you?"
So the boy didn't know him. Strangely, he found it charming. Also, he was named for Voldemort's greatest ancestor, Salazar Slytherin. A noble name. The boy had better live up to it.
"You may call me Marvolo, young Salazar."
A/N: Another is done.
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