Eternal Glory for the House of Slytherin

On his twenty-first birthday, Salazar Slytherin took precaution and smartly brought two things with him… his Foe-Glass and a Secrecy Sensor that he had wrapped in leather and hid in his pocket.

On this day, he would lawfully be given his inheritance, the vast magical property known as Hogwarts Estate.

An uneasy feeling crept into his bones and he hoped the day’s events would go smoothly and uneventful.

He had flown to the grounds on his Hungarian Horntail, given to him by his uncle when he was seventeen. And even though the breed was known as the most dangerous of dragons, Salazar treated it with respect and gave it a name. And in time, the dragon, whose blood had the power to heal wounds, became loyal to him.

His younger brother, Sarcone Slytherin had also received a dragon at seventeen, a Peruvian Vipertooth. It was a venomous dragon that he not only used for transportation, but also for profit.

Using the Incarcerous spell, Sarcone would bind the creature, then wound it to collect its blood that had the ability to strengthen potions tenfold. When it became weak from blood loss, he would harvest its venom as well, selling both for profit.

The business of dragon blood was cruel and vicious, but the magical community looked passed the cruelty for the good of society.

The blood of a Common Welsh Green had the power to heal Black Plague, Dragon Pox, and other evil diseases. Blood from a Hebridean Black was used to mark boundaries of magical properties and to strengthen protection spells that surrounded it. And Antipodean Opaleye blood was used to write and bind magical contracts, which would be of dire importance this very day.

Once inside Hogwarts, he made his way to the place they called the Office of Triangles and waited for his uncle to arrive with the deed. Once presented, he would only need to sign it in dragon’s blood to seal the magical property to him.

Being wary of the date, Salazar cautiously looked into his Foe-Glass and was shocked and disheartened to see his brother, Sarcone Slytherin looking back at him.

“Foe? It cannot be.” He whispered to himself in horror. “Not my brother on this day.” He swallowed hard and tried not to panic. “Sarcone, what are you planning?”

“Salazar!” His uncle greeted, genuinely happy to see his nephew. “Your father would’ve been so proud to see you on this day… a grown wizard ready to take on his legacy.”

“Hello, Uncle. It is good to see you in good health.”

But just then, Salazar’s blood seared at the sound of another familiar voice.

“Brother!” Sarcone greeted.

“Sarcone. What brings you here?”

“Ah, I wanted to serve as a witness to this historical occasion, of course.”

“Where is Fortnight, Uncle? I thought he would be witness.” Salazar asked of his assistant.

“Not feeling well, apparently.” Sarcone answered.

But just then the Secrecy Sensor began vibrating in Salazar’s pocket, warning him of something amiss… of deception in the air.

“Who better to be a witness than your brother?” Their uncle replied trustingly.

But Salazar had received warning through his Dark Detectors to know that his brother was up to no good. And it was most likely that he would attempt to sabotage the binding of the contract so Hogwarts would somehow land in his own hands.

Salazar wouldn’t have it. He thought of his wand… twelve and one half inches of unyielding Yew wood with a core of Dragon Heartstring. Good for defensive spells and dueling.

He was suddenly sad, but angry. He never thought he would have to use it against his own brother.

“Well, where is it?” Sarcone asked in a rush. “Where is the deed so that Salazar can sign it in dragon's blood?”

“Near and dear to my heart, Sarcone.” The uncle answered with a tap to his chest as he sat at an over-sized desk.

The old man bent slightly and removed a heavy necklace that held a locket, which seemed to have been weighing him down.

Placing it on the desk, he held out his wand and spoke an incantation in Parseltongue.

As it opened, an eerie smoke rolled out of it and then soon after, came a scroll of old parchment.

“The deed to Hogwarts.” The uncle announced with seeming awe. “It has been around my neck since the death of your father. And now, it will be yours, Salazar, Heir of Slytherin.”

Both brothers sat wide-eyed and mesmerized at the all-important document before them. Who knew that such a thing as magical ink and parchment would be of such enormous worth and value?

“Accio Bloodwell.” The uncle held out his hand as an inkwell filled with Antipodean Opaleye blood magically came to him. The dragon’s blood would magically seal and bind ownership of Hogwarts to whoever signed the document, as it considered both brothers to be heirs.

Salazar readied his wand, preparing for the worst and wondering when Sarcone would make his move.

But it wasn’t Sarcone that made the first move. It was their uncle. He had reached for a black-feathered quill. But he stopped, wiped his brow, and slowly slumped over the desk, unconscious.

“Uncle!” Salazar shouted alarm.

“Not to worry, brother. Uncle has succumbed to Sleeping Draught. It’s almost too easy.”

“Too easy?” He said pointing his wand at Sarcone’s face. “Not too easy from where I’m standing.”

“I cannot let you take this property. Not with your foul intentions.” Sarcone hissed, aiming his wand at his brother.

Salazar was surprised that Sarcone had discovered his plans to start a grand school… one that rivaled their alma mater, Durmstrang.

Despite being a champion student, Salazar lacked school spirit for one reason only… the Dark Arts.

He played his part as expected, participating in sickening experiments done on innocent creatures, even breeding Blast-Ended Skrewts that inflicted painful burns on intended victims, but it all seemed so senseless.

What finally pushed Salazar over the edge and into rebellion was being taught that the only way to fight was to use Dark Magic. They didn’t teach how to defend against it except to use Dark Magic in retaliation. But retaliation meant escalating the fight until someone or everyone was dead.

That didn’t sit too well with Salazar Slytherin.

There were several of these students who yearned for a more noble way of life. These people found each other, went underground, and formed an un-named four-head council.

Each head brought different gifts, knowledge, and strengths together in one place. And even though they had their differences of opinions in many things, they worked hard for one common goal; to start a school so that the future of the magical world could study, practice, and learn a subject of ever-increasing importance.

They called this new subject… Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The secret being out, there would be no denying it.

“For the greater good, brother.” Salazar replied with wand still pointed and ready.

“Your fear of the Dark Arts clouds your judgement, Salazar! Stand down and honor your family name by preserving Hogwarts for future Heirs of Slytherin… and not some stupid pathetic excuse for a school!”

“This property is a waste of magical space and keeping it for a dying Slytherin name would be shameful. Doing something bigger than us will bring honor to our name, not dishonor it.”

“I will not allow you to defile this property.”

“Defile it? I will bring honor, fame, and glory that you’ve never imagined. I’m talking about ETERNAL GLORY!”

“Crucio!” Sarcone exclaimed with vengeance.

Salazar collapsed in pain and cried out as the Cruciatus Curse brought him to his knees.

But outside the castle walls, a loyal dragon heard the cries of his master, which compelled it to take flight and slam itself into the grand stained-glass window of the office.

The shattering and shards of glass startled Sarcone, abruptly stopping the Unforgivable curse.

Salazar spared no time in acting quickly. He reached for the quill to sign the document, but just as he was about to dip it into the fine red ink, Sarcone sent a blast from his wand, sending the inkwell full of dragon’s blood crashing into a wall and spilling everywhere.

There was no time as Salazar feared another Crucio attack… or worse! He only had time to grab the locket and the document and mount his dragon.

“Fly, Noxstone!” He pleaded to his faithful dragon. “Fly!”

It struggled a bit, but managed to tear through the rubble and jump out the window.

Salazar managed to get the document back into the locket and was able to hang it around his neck. It still wasn’t signed of course, but at least he had it in his possession.

But Sarcone wasn’t far behind. He was on his own dragon and gaining on them.

Noxstone was excellent in the air, ducking and maneuvering away from an endless stream of spells cast at them. But soon, they found themselves in an open area away from the castle, which made them vulnerable.

Salazar decided it was time to stop flying away and face them head on. He pulled the reigns and they twisted in the air and began fighting back.

It was an amazing duel in the air… a fantastic and frightening display between two powerful wizard brothers flying atop their fierce and unrelenting dragons.

But as they fought, Salazar feared their fight would end in death. It was what they had been taught to do… use Dark Magic until one of them was dead.

It was everything he was against. It was why he wanted to start a school with a new philosophy in the first place. He wasn’t willing to kill his brother for it, or be killed. The school would have to be located somewhere else.

Salazar was about to surrender the locket, when something unexpected happened.

The Vipertooth grew tired. For his strength had not yet fully returned to him since his last blood-letting at the hand of his master. He needed to stop and began his descent to the ground, attempting to land carefully so as to not hurt himself or his rider.

But Sarcone responded cruelly with a swift kick to an old wound on the dragon’s ribcage, reopening it.

The dragon roared in pain as blood spilled from his side.

Nearly falling to the ground, it purposefully threw Sarcone from his back, sending him off to land harshly.

Salazar spared no time in getting back to the castle where their uncle was still sleeping.

Being injured, Salazar limped to the desk, removed the locket, and spoke Parseltongue to open it once more.

The document presented itself again and with painful movement, Salazar Slytherin crawled on his hands and knees to the spilled dragon’s blood.

Ready with the black-feathered quill, he dipped it into the precious magical red ink and signed his name, giving him full ownership rights to Hogwarts Estate.

It was his alone.

His uncle stirred and regained consciousness.

“What happened here?” He asked, looking at the mess in shock. “Are you alright?”

“It is over, Uncle. Hogwarts is mine.” Salazar replied, holding up the document and showing him the signature on the deed.

The old man nodded his acknowledgement, but was still bewildered as to what happened.

Salazar magically placed the deed back in the locket and placed it around his neck.

He noted the weight, feeling as though a great responsibility had just been placed on his shoulders.

A slight breeze came in through the enormous broken window and brought with it a man’s torturous cries.

“Sarcone!” Salazar exclaimed, suddenly worried about his brother.

The angered wizard held out his wand about to kill his dragon for causing him to lose the duel. But much to his surprise, his wand was hit by a lightning fast tail that struck like a whip, snapping it in half.

He took out a sword then, but the dragon recognized the threat and decided that he had shed enough magical blood for his master.

Sarcone charged the beast with the intent of ramming the sword into the heart.

But the Vipertooth took a deep breath then sprayed its venom into its attacker’s eyes, instantaneously blinding him.

By the time Salazar and their uncle were able to get to him, the Vipertooth had taken its talons and tore stripes into Sarcone’s back then spit more venom into the new wounds.

The dragon was getting his revenge and the wizard would die soon.

As soon as Salazar was on the ground, the Vipertooth took off.

He ran to his dying brother.

“Sarcone, it didn’t have to be like this. Durmstrang was wrong…”

But he wasn’t interested in anything Salazar was saying. He needed the blood of the Hungarian Horntail that was standing behind his brother.

“Stab your dragon so that I might live.” He breathed in a raspy, rough voice, clearly experiencing insufferable agony. “His blood… will… heal me.”

Salazar didn’t want to pierce his dragon, but he didn’t want his brother to die either.

He turned to Noxstone with empty hands raised in the hopes that the dragon would understand that he meant no harm.

“Great and loyal one, is there a way to save him?” He asked respectfully.

The dragon took slow and careful steps toward the dying man, but moved passed him slightly to where the other dragon’s blood was shed.

Sarcone began shaking uncontrollably as he began slipping closer to the edge of death.

Unbeknownst to Salazar, Noxstone had been hurt when he flew into the stained-glass window. A shard of green glass was still embedded into the dragon’s skin just under the shoulder, a small wound.

The dragon carefully removed the glass by pricking it with his talon and then proceeded to do something shocking.

With his talon, he scraped his blood and mixed it with that of the Vipertooth’s. It was making a double blood potion that would strengthen his healing blood tenfold.

Salazar pulled his brother to the potion and began frantically painting the wounds with his bare fingers, hoping upon hope that it wouldn’t be too late.

After a few moments, the wounds did in fact heal, but he remained partially blind… only outlines of beings and shadows of things.

The one thing he could make out was the locket around Salazar’s neck.

Sarcone grabbed hold suddenly and yanked.

“It will be mine!” He said, taking hold of his sword.

But just before he attempted to plunge it into Salazar, the Peruvian Vipertooth returned and snatched him like prey.

Sarcone dropped the sword, saving the locket that held the deed to Hogwarts.

“Too late, brother! I already signed it!”

“No!” Sarcone cried as the dragon carried him away into the wilderness.

The locket holding the deed to Hogwarts would be lost to history and wouldn’t resurface until the last heir of Salazar Slytherin decided he would stake claim to it… an heir named Tom Riddle.