-Chapter Nine-

Herpo the Foul

A Parslemouth, a wizard obsessed with the dark arts, and a snake-lover, Herpo the Foul is most famous for his creation of the first Horcrux, a dreaded item recently involved in the fall of Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort.

Horcruxes are any item, sometimes even living beings, in which a deep, complex, and extremely horrific task is performed on the wizard who wishes to have a Horcrux created. Although a disgusting and highly dangerous process, if done correctly, the wizard will be able to 'cut' his soul, and remove the severed 'piece' from his body. The Horcrux itself is the item or being in which the wizard places the piece of soul. In this item, the soul is protected, while the item itself is given darker powers. Only desperate wizards wishing to cheat death will create Horcruxes; Herpo the Foul was the first to do so.

Placing the soul in his serpentine gold staff, Herpo carried the staff everywhere. Now that it was a Horcrux, even the strongest magic or sharpest blade couldn't destroy the staff. To truly dispose of the soul fragment inside, the wizard attempting to destroy it would need to have one of the rare substances that can destroy Horcruxes, such as Basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, or the Killing Curse being fired at the Horcrux, as it will instantly attack the soul in the item, as it is the only living part of the item itself.

Herpo was born before the time of Fiendfyre, so he knew he was completely fine as far as keeping his Horcrux safe, and with him at all times. He was, to say, immortal.

However, simply ripping his soul once made Herpo very unstable. He was unable to control himself anymore, and knew that although he would be mortal again if his Horcrux was destroyed, it would at least put his unstable soul at peace.

Hatching a chicken's egg under a toad, and performing some ancient incantations on the ready-to-hatch, greenish egg, Herpo watched with happiness as a small serpent, no longer than his middle finger slithered out of the cracked shell. He raised it, fed it and spoke to it, since he was a Parsletongue. By the time it reached thirty years old, his creation was called a Basilisk, and it hunted giant spiders by night, killing them with its venom.

By day, it murdered with its stare. Herpo milked his basilisk, acquiring a small amount of her venom. He poured it over the staff, and watched it melt like acid before his eyes, until a blackened, sticky pile of tar-like substance was before him. He thought he saw his own eyes glint behind the eyes of the serpent head upon his staff before it was destroyed.

Forgetting his Basilisk was behind him, Herpo turned and didn't order it with Parsletongue to turn its gaze from him-- it stared him right in the eyes, killing him instantly. Then, after devouring Herpo's body, the Basilisk continued wreaking havoc on innocents, until it was slain by a gallant wizard.

The wizard studied the basilisk, and started breeding hundreds until he died. Finally, the last remaining basilisk in the world today was slain by Harry Potter himself when he was only twelve-years-old.

Al closed the book, completely shocked. "But they can still be bred," he whispered, remembering the chicken and toad.

He jumped when the door swung open and Scorpius entered. "Nothing!" He exclaimed. "And you know why? Because McMillan's already found it! Bloody hell…" Mitchell and Alan soon joined them, and all four of them played a game of Gobstones before they fell asleep.

The next afternoon, Al stayed back in Defence Against the Dark Arts class to speak with Professor Retskope.

"Ah, Albus," he said with a small smile. Al saw a glint of gold chain as Retskope's collar fell slightly; he smiled back as the Professor asked, "Good job today with the banshee lesson. Again, don't forget to use the tongue-tying curse on banshees, it's the best weakness--" Al wanted to get right to the point. "Professor, I was wondering if you could help me with something involving a dark creature." Retskope nodded slowly, and asked, "Is this creature one that you could encounter?" Al looked away. "Only if," he said slowly, wording his sentence perfectly, "Someone's been breading them in the passed few years." Retskope's eyes drifted to the old copy of the Daily Prophet that sat on his desk. The same copy O'Leary had shown Albus, and the same copy that Retskope had been reading during Al's and Issac's duel.

"You're referring to basilisks," Retskope stated this, and Al nodded. Retskope looked grave, and he said, "Your father did a good thing, putting them behind bars. Now what you must understand, Albus, is that even when Riddle was near-killed by your infant father, he still had Horcruxes. This was how he survived.

"Even though these wizards are in Azkaban," he said quietly, "They still could have left eggs containing basilisks around. Your father, along with his best Aurors are currently trying to find the whereabouts of these eggs."

Al slung his pack over his shoulder. "To destroy them?" He asked.

The second bell sounded, and Al hurried off to his next class.

Deciding to study more on Herpo the Foul, Al asked Rose about him that night at supper.

"Aside from everything you already know," she said, "He had a wife. She was just as evil… highly sadistic, cruel, psychodic. Herpo told her he'd been experimenting with dark magic and trying to split his soul. To create a Horcrux, you need to kill someone to add a particularily evil art to your soul before it splits… during an argument between the two of them, Herpo killed her, then instantly went to work beside her body. He was working on splitting his soul."

Al shuddered, and Rose continued, "She'd given birth to a baby daughter the previous day. The daughter was raised by distant relatives, and given her fallen mother's last name: Harlough."

Albus nodded, thanked Rose, and left with Scorpius. The Quidditch game was starting soon.