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Silver Serpent
Introduction:

Alright, this thread I'm posting is a repost of the fic I have up...
Location
Texas
Silver Serpent
Introduction:
Alright, this thread I'm posting is a repost of the fic I have up on FFN. I started Silver Serpent a little before I got introduced to the Sufficient Velocity community, and ever since I got introduced I've been hooked. I really like the tool the site gives OP's in managing the threads and organizing the story.

So, if nothing else, posting on here, which is a relatively painless process, lets me take advantage of said tools so that I might have a fancier repository with which to store my story such that I might have a version of the story presented in its maximum glory. Even if I use none of that in this chapter...

Now, the important bits.

Summary: Partial and mild AU. Due to a subtle twist of fate, when Voldemort struck out at Lilith Potter on that fateful night, her mother's protections weren't enough to save her. In the end, both Voldemort and Lilith went screaming into the gap between life and death as their souls became bound. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord's trusted Left Hand, Lucius Malfoy, organizes the remnants of the Death Eaters together to follow the final instructions Voldemort left him.

6 years later, the Death Eaters, working under Lucius, enact a dark ritual to bring back their Dark Lord. And it works, Voldemort is reborn in body and mind to beyond the peak of human health and mentality. However, it comes with an unexpected tag along as not only is Voldemort resurrected, but so too is a young and confused Lilith Potter. Seeing the immense power flowing through the young girl, and his mind clear of it's old deficiencies, Voldemort decides to use the girl rather than kill her.

So on that day, Tom Riddle names Lilith Potter as his one and only heir. From there he seeks to rebuild his organization from the shadows, using his purported death as a mask. All the while he trains Lilith to be his perfect tool, and Lilith latches on to the only things she knows. Unbeknownst to the world, their fabled savior falls deeper and deeper into the dark deeps of the underworld they fear.

Short Version: Features sane but still sadistic and dark Voldemort being reborn 6 years after his "death". A budding and somewhat unusual Father-Daughter relationship between Tom and Lilith as they bond over conquest, ambition, and murder. Competent and not cartoonishly evil Death Eaters. Adorifying small Fem!Harry. Nobody's bashed(who lives long) everyone is, at the very least, understandable, even if they aren't particularly likable. Oh, and Tom Riddle may or may not be the wizard equivalent of a mad scientist.

It's going to be a long ass time before we get to Hogwarts. If we even go there. Sorry, but I tend to like to have a nice foundation of a large framework and setup before I just jump into things. I'd rather portray the growth of the relationship between Tom and Lilith rather than just have them magically and instantly love each other and be the closest family you ever did see.

Also, note, I'm getting the feeling that I'm kind of shit at portraying small children as actually acting like small children, and instead have them act surprisingly rational and mature. Relatively speaking. In addition, I am not British. Britsh-isms do not come naturally to me. As such, these guys will probably be sounding surprisingly American. Oh, and I'll admit I tend to make long An's and get a bit detailed in the gore and anatomy. Mainly because I enjoy writing it.

So I apologize for my writing short comings.

FFN Link: Silver Serpent Chapter 1: Born in Blood, a harry potter fanfic | FanFiction

So, without further ado, the actual fucking chapter.

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Silver Serpent

Chapter 1:

Born in Blood

A/n: Merry Christmas.

Or whatever you celebrate. I hear Festivus is a thing.

Whatever it is.

Anyways, this is my first attempt at delving into the Harry Potter Fandom with a Story.

I mean, I've read it and shit, but this is my first attempt at getting involved.

I wrestled a while with whether I even wanted to post this, but decided I enjoyed writing it too much to not do it.

But I should probably get a few things out of the way in the beginning.

This is going to be, in short, a Fem Potter raised by Sane Voldemort/Tom fic.

Now, when I say sane, I mean functional Sociopath

He's still a sadistic narcissistic power-hungry killer.

But he's not a psychotic, stupid, or mustache-twirling evil villain.

In fact, no one here I actually care about is.

Never really liked the "evil because evil" villains. Always preferred people I can understand or appreciate.

I'd also like to thank Danorac, or Dan, for helping me with this. He's basically my personal HP expert, so hopefully he kept everything kosher.

But that's enough of that.

On with the Show.


It was a cold night, that all Hallows eve. What started as a peaceful night of ritual and festival, ended in a tragedy that struck a nation. Where once stood a house in Godric's Hollow, now stood only burning ruins. Where once lived a family, now only lays their cold corpses.

It was a night that had been foretold. A night with a destiny. A night that would shape the fates of all those touched by it. It was to be the beginning of the chosen one, and the end of the dark one. The beginning and the end. The oracle had foreseen it. The elder had put his faith in it. And the dark one feared it.

However, there was one problem.

Destiny...was an illusion.

Fate did not truly exist, at least not how they perceived it.

There was no endpoint that had to happen.

No aspect of time that could not be changed.

And nothing was set in stone.

For every time there is a fulfilled prophecy there are ten forgotten and unfulfilled ones.

For every time love conquers, there are twenty when it fails.

For every prayer answered, a hundred fall on deaf ears.

For every man woman and child saved, a thousand more fall.

And so on that night, the loving sacrifice of a mother for her child was strong.

But it wasn't strong enough.

"6th Anniversary of the Girl-Who-Died's Sacrifice.

Ministry Plans to make National Holiday"

Lucius' eyes narrowed as he read the headline for the paper.

A national holiday? For a child? He questioned.

Not even a child He snorted contemptuously.

She was but a babe when our master struck. I doubt she even did anything other than lie down and die like her insolent mother.

Folding the paper, Lucius got up from his table and made his way through Diagon alley.

Still, I suppose whatever they did, it was able to kill the master He acknowledged.

...temporarily he added.

He ignored the hustle and bustle of the streets as children ran around with their parents, waving their newfangled magical toys, family's smiling and celebrating the "glorious" occasion.

If Lucius was a more sullen fellow, like Severus, he might gripe and groan, whine and mope about how these fools didn't understand. If he was more maniacal and more of a sycophant like Bellatrix, he might grin wildly while thinking about how all these insolent fools would soon know the wrath and power of the master.

But Lucius was none of those things.

He was a politician, a strategist, and most of all, the Left Hand of the master.

He might not have been the most loyal of all the servants, or the most depraved, but he never cared. While the rest of his compatriots were running around slaughtering families with reckless glee, he was the one actually working out plans for a new world. While they threw their bodies at their enemies with no regard for their own health, he stuck a knife in their back from the shadows.

And while all the rest of his master's servants ran around in terror and confusion, only to stick their head in the ground and hide, or striking out in anger and without direction, only to get caught, he blended into the shadows and planned.

The Master had said he was immortal. To most, they believed but did not know how. But to his most trusted, or valued, he told the secret.

Horcruxes.

A dark and forbidden art, but more importantly, it would work.

In theory, at least.

So while many thought that the Master had truly perished, Lucius and Bellatrix knew the truth. Unfortunately, Bella was too...enthusiastic...to be able to rein herself in and hide in the shadows. So while she kicked and screamed in Azkaban, Lucius got to planning.

He used his position in the ministry to discreetly find all sorts of books on the darkest of arts, trying to figure out a way to bring the Master back using these Horcruxes.

And at long last, the time has come He thought grimly.

He stepped into the building in Knockturn Alley, one that was hidden from prying eyes. Nodding to the shopkeeper in acknowledgment, before continuing on to the fireplace, he tossed in the handful of floo powder and spoke the name. The flames roared a great green, and he stepped in without hesitation. In his wake, they died down and left no trace of his presence behind.

Exiting in a castle located deep within the frozen wilderness of Siberia, far from the rest of the wizarding world, a green inferno flared inside of a large fire pit. When it died down, Lucius was left standing in the ashes.

I can see they haven't actually properly lit this place yet. He frowned, whipping his wand out and silently lighting the torches in the room.

Though they could have just forgotten I was coming He acknowledged as he stepped out of the pit.

Shaking the useless thoughts from his head, Lucius exited the room. Wrapping his coat closer to himself, he whispered out a warming charm to keep out the biting cold of the castle. Despite his efforts, his breath still came out as clouds of mist in the freezing air.

"Bloody idiots, can't properly prepare this place for the master." He grumbled about the lack of any semblance of comfort.

He walked down the empty halls with purpose, his steps clacking loudly in the deathly silence of the castle, only the whistling of the wind to keep him company. By all accounts, it seemed empty and abandoned. He supposed it did make sense, from a pragmatic standpoint, to make it seem that no one was here. If any of them were somehow followed, it would just take them to an empty castle with no evidence of anything. If anything, they might think that they were just interested in the scenery, or were making secretive liaisons with mistresses.

Still, Lucius was a man who enjoyed the comforts of the finer things in life. He wasn't above sacrifice for practicality, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Passing by a window, he noted that the ceremony should be starting soon. The sun was setting quickly, and soon the moonless night would rise.

He stopped before a large wooden door with a silver sigil carved into it. The symbol held a skull with prominent canines and wavy lines radiating out from it, a sword with a prominent crossguard penetrating it through the mouth and exiting out the back, with a snake winding its way down the sword through the mouth of the skull.

The Sigil was already here when they found this place, and all things considered, they had decided to make it a sort of unofficial new symbol of death eaters. It wasn't a huge change from the original one, but it had captured their hearts and minds. There was...an otherworldliness to it. As if the symbol itself signified something beyond the mundane, or even beyond the arcane as they knew it.

Something...primordial...almost.

Turning from the door, he looked at the large stone bricks around the door. His eyes roamed for the right one, before spotting it.

A small symbol, similar to the first, had been carved into it. Many of the bricks did, but this one was special. This time it was just an eye with radiating wavy lines. Pressing his hand to the brick, it resisted at first, but eventually surrendered and depressed into the wall slightly. Once it had, Lucius pushed the door open without any further delay.

They had discovered this a while ago. Many of the doors had...codes...that could be used to open them into different areas. If you used the right code, the door would open to the room you wanted to go. Otherwise, the door would simply obey the typical space-time orientation of the castle, and give you entry into another abandoned section.

There was almost no ambient magic radiating from them either. One had to truly extend their senses, or be in the right places, to feel it, meaning that to an uninformed wizard, this place was just an abandoned Muggle castle. But once you did feel the magic in the walls, you would realize just how old this place was. Possibly even older than Hogwarts.

But certainly, far more...discrete.

It also seemed to be more functional. Hogwarts may have been styled like a castle, but it lacked the actual architectural defenses of one. This place, however, was a magical fortress made to defend. Against what, they had no idea. There were no records in this place. There were scars, lingering traces of magic, but nothing written in stone telling them what exactly this place was for.

At least nothing yet. They hadn't gone over every aspect of the castle as its size was enormous and was just as a spatially confusing place as Hogwarts. Considering their small numbers, it would be some time before they would be able to discover every secret within its walls.

But that's fine He thought with a ghost of a smirk as he stepped through the door and into the room he had sought. We found what we were looking for.

A chamber made for summoning, channeling, and controlling the blackest of arts.

The room was massive, practically a cathedral, with a hole in the roof to allow in the light of the starry night. Unlike the others he had tread through, however, it was not without life. Countless candles were lit around the room, with a large fire pit burning bright with a ghostly blue fire in before a massive pit that took up the center of the room. Numerous grooves wound their way from the mouths of several statues of robed men along the walls to the pit in the center.

Throughout the room, several people in black cloaks and robes toiled away at their most important task. While many wore their hoods to hide their face, almost in shame, a few did not. Lucius could see the Notts, Yaxley, and most importantly, Severus.

It was no secret, to Lucius anyways, that Severus had held significant feelings toward the mud-blood known as Lily Evans. While Lucius held no love for Mudbloods in general, he couldn't deny that the woman had power and potential. It was almost enough for his pragmatic side to take over and ignore her blood status.

Almost

Still, it was enough to make him at least appreciate that Severus could find quality in the witch, if not her blood.

After the master killed her...Severus wasn't the same for a number of years. He was withdrawn and depressed. It was no great wonder why to Lucius. The others might have thought it was because their master had perished, but that barely factored into Severus's mind.

I suppose the worst part was that not even her half-blood daughter survived He considered.

Severus may have thought himself a good spy, but he wasn't as clever as he thought he was. He was good, quite good compared to most wizards, but he didn't have the same head for deception that Lucius did. There was a reason he was the spymaster for their group.

So he knew of the prophecy, and he knew that Severus had been told by Dumbledore that they would be safe. That the child of prophecy, at least, would live. When she didn't, it crushed him.

But Lucius knew if he played his cards right, he could use this to bring the potion master back into the fold. Truth be told, the only reason he did it was that Severus was a potions master the likes of which hadn't been seen in far too long. There was a certain spark in him, a special something that no one else had. Something in him that no amount of training, of dedication, and time could account for. He could see patterns in the potions, aspects in the basic components of magic in the ingredients he picked that none else could discern. Already, he had invented a handful of new potions, and even a spell or two.

It made Severus invaluable, despite his loyalties. And if they could find a way to inspire him? To put actual passion into his work?

Well, that was the job of a politician, after all.

"Severus," Lucius said neutrally, standing a respectable distance from the potion master at work.

"Lucius." The man drawled out in response. "It's been some time since you were here.

"Tonight is the pinnacle of all our plans for the past 3 years. I would not miss this for anything." He responded.

"How goes the formula?" Lucius asked, rhetorically more than anything. He knew Severus wouldn't fail them.

Standing up straight from the table holding the instruments of his trade, Severus turned to face the man.

"I actually believe I've improved it." He answered, the pride trickling into his voice.


"Improved it?" Lucius questioned. "This is too important to play with like one of your experiments, Severus. This needs to work. There can be no room for error."


"Indeed. Perhaps I should explain?" Severus defended.


Lucius paused, before nodding in assent.


"The original formula that you had found would simply resurrect our Master as a human. The modified one the master made for himself would make him something more. Correct?" Severus began.


Again, Lucius nodded, wondering where the man was going with this.


"I actually managed to find some notes from several sources, including a few in Germany, Haiti, Africa, and Eastern Asia that helped put together some of the master's other notes. It still wasn't complete, however, it was missing a critical piece." He continued, the smallest of smiles crawling up his pale face.


"Then, I found it. Here, in this castle. In this room, in fact. The missing piece."


"Severus, I know how much this subject means to you, but please, do not test my patience," Lucius warned, growing tired of this.


"Put simply, it is the formula for the perfect being. A perfect, fully formed, Homunculus." He finished.


"A homunculus?" Lucius questioned. He didn't know too much on the subject, only that most were flawed, weak, or abominations.


"A perfect homunculus. It required much of the original plan the master had for his body, but with several critical tweaks. It is as close to immortality as I could find." He explained.


"Really?" Lucius considered, now very intrigued by these possibilities.


"However." Severus interrupted Lucius's thought process.


"I do not recommend this as a standard practice. The conditions needed for this are both bizarre and specific. Survival is not guaranteed, and the price is steep." Severus explained grimly.


"Still, the Master has passed the most arduous of tasks. The rest is up to us, and his own strength. Something the Master has no shortage of." He finished.


"True enough." Lucius conceded.


"But keep in mind, if this fails, it's on your head. Your usefulness only extends so far." Lucius warned with sharp eyes.


"Understood." Severus nodded, suppressing his fear.


"Good." Lucius nodded, "How soon can we begin?"


"Momentarily." Severus answered.


Lucius gave a curt nod again, before walking off to see Yaxley.


"Yaxley." He began.


"Lucius." He responded with a grimace.


He never really liked Yaxley. Lucius always thought he was a bit too fanatical in his hatred, not enough practicality to adapt and overcome. Still, he wasn't incompetent, just a bit of a loose cannon.


"I trust you gathered everything as instructed?" Lucius questioned.


"Of course." He said with a predatory grin. "All pure, and all untainted."


"Good." Lucius nodded.


Honestly, Bellatrix would have been a better fit for the job. Unfortunately, she is currently in Azkaban thanks to her fanatical devotion to the master. Lucius internally groaned.


Turning away, Lucius continued his rounds, making sure every step in the process was just so. He made sure every rune was inscribed just right. That every ingredient was in the right place and of the right quality. He made sure the critical component was just as Yaxley said.


Finally, when he was done, he made his way back to the center of the chamber. He watched as everyone applied their finishing touches, absorbed in their work. As he looked up and saw the stars high in the night sky, he muttered a quick tempus spell to be sure of the time.


Nodding grimly in anticipation and satisfaction, he dismissed the spell, before clacking his cane against the hard stone ground loudly three times. The sound rang out through the cavernous room, drawing the attention of all to him.


"My comrades…"He began dramatically, a spell amplifying his voice for all to hear without him having to strain it.


"I believe we are ready to begin."


And with those words, everyone jumped into action and finished what they were doing. They got dressed up, enshrouding themselves in dark robes and donning their masks as death eaters. Severus returned, having introduced the formula he had made to the repositories as late as possible to ensure its freshness. The candles were blown out with several silent spells, leaving nothing but the eerie blue flame in the center lighting the room.


They stood in a silent semi-circle, surrounding the pit and the fire, with Lucius in the center. He stepped forward, towards the fire, before stopping at the first in the sets of runic arrays. He raised his cane before pressing it into a tile on the ground. Just like the brick, it resisted for a moment, before giving in and depressing into the ground with a click.


The click led into a series of gears moving with a heavy and rumbling sound. The feel of magic throughout the castle being activated and swirling around in anticipation and preparation. They heard the sound of something opening with a large Clunk, when it happened.


Red poured from the mouths of the six statues.


It started as a trickle, before growing into a steady stream. It wound its way through all the troughs, before finally ending as it filled the pit with blood.


The blood of 343 various animals, magical creatures, and pureblood wizards and witches. All virgins, and all in the proper and specific amounts.


As the red blood of the sacrifices poured into the large pit. A black, inky, substance trickled in, mixing in with the red blood, before being followed by a luminescent green one. When it finally mixed inside the pool, Lucius knew it was time.


He slammed his cane against the ground loudly, whilst channeling his magic through it, and into the runic array beneath him. Following his lead, the rest of the 13 death eaters present kneeled and put their hands on the array and channeled their magic into it as well. Under their power, the arrays all lit up in a blue matching the ghostly fire before them. Once the arrays lit up, so too did the blood glow an ominous red laced with black with green steam rising from it's surface. Once the blood itself lit up, it revealed that the troughs had also been arranged in another array within the one they had carved themselves.


By this point, the magic in the air was practically tangible. A mystic wind started from the pressure of it all, causing their cloaks to billow. The glowing arrays began to ring loudly as the fire began to flare. Suddenly, arcs of electricity shot out from the fire, hitting the walls and floor around them. And yet, they did not flinch. Their mission too important, their dedication too resolute.


Then, just as it had started, the crackling lightning died down. The glowing faded and the ringing stopped.


The Death Eaters stopped, looking at each other worriedly, wondering if it had worked.


Was this supposed to happen?


Had they done something wrong?


Had they lost their master forever?


Just as these doubts began to surface into murmurs, they were stopped by the sound of bubbles popping. They looked to the source and found the pool of blood was bubbling.


Suddenly a hand shot out of the pool, hitting the stone tile floor with a wet smack.


It was joined soon by another, both working together to pull a body out of the pool. A head broke the surface, gasping for air before the rest of his body followed suit. Soon enough, a man stood before them, naked as the day he was born and covered from head to toe in a thick coat of blood.


His eyes were closed as his head was tilted to the sky, one quickly becoming overcast, and he simply breathed for a minute. He looked down, and they all but gasped in shock as they opened his eyes.


The man was fairly tall, probably over two meters, with chin length hair and a muscular and well-toned body. His face was handsome and in line with someone in their early-mid thirties or late twenties. But that wasn't what was so shocking.


It was his oh so familiar blood red eyes that shook them to the core.


"M-my lord?" One death eater stuttered out.


The man glanced at the cultist in question, looking him over for a minute, as if measuring his worth, before finally giving a smirk they knew all too well.


"Rise. Your Lord has returned."


And with those words, a pressure was lifted. They all stood before their Lord, rejoicing in the fact it had worked.


"My lord, it is good to see you well again." One said


"With you, now we can make those mud-bloods tremble in fear!" Another declared.


"Oh Merlin, truly today is a blessed day!" more rejoiced.


"My lord." Lucius began, internally pleased that the plan had gone off without a hitch, but realizing this was but a step on the path to ultimate victory.


Stepping forward with a cloak and towel he had thought to bring with him, he presented them to the master.


"Thank you, Lucius," Voldemort said, a smirk still on his face.


"I trust the plan went off without a hitch?" He asked as he wiped the blood from his face and wrapped the cloak around him.


"Severus found some...modifications...to make to the formula you gave us," Lucius answered.


"I can see that." He mused as he pulled on some of the strands of his newfound hair. "To be honest, I had missed having hair."


"Still, are you sure this body is fit for one such as me?" He inquired.


"Well, given the fact you appear to be back in the prime of your life, I'd say the results speak for themselves," Severus commented.


Lucius shot him a sharp glare, but Voldemort simply laughed.


"Quite right, Severus, quite right." He chuckled good naturedly.


"My...lord?" Lucius questioned, looking at his master strangely. Voldemort was rarely so...jovial.


"Lucius, my Left Hand, I have just conquered death itself!" He declared. "Truly a feat worthy of celebration!"


Something that caused a round of cheers among the small group in honor of their master.


"Perhaps...but I am still concerned about our comrades scattered and imprisoned." Lucius cautioned


"Truly? Who?" Voldemort asked, his interest now piqued by current events.


"Bellatrix, most importantly," Lucius said, getting to the heart of the matter.


"I see…" Voldemort frowned, growing serious at the news that his Right Hand had been imprisoned.


"I suppose I should not be surprised. She never was one for tact." He sighed, wiping the rest of the blood from his face, revealing the pale grey ashen skin underneath.


As they spoke, they began to hear the rumblings of thunder in the distance.


"How long have I been dead?" Voldemort asked, finally.


"Six years to the day. Possibly to the minute." Lucius answered


"Six years?" The master mused, wiping the rest of the blood from his hands and arms.


"What has happened while I was gone?" He asked.


"For the most part, nothing special. Cornelius Fudge is the Minister, a useless fool who practically eats out of my hand." Lucius sneered.


"Is he sympathetic to our cause?" Voldemort asked


"He's a weak coward who will either bow or panic in reaction to anything he perceives to be a threat," Lucius explained.


Voldemort hummed in thought, considering how he could use this to his advantage.


"Severus? What has happened with Dumbledore?" Voldemort inquired.


"The old man hired me as a potions teacher for the school, either out of genuine pity or to keep a close eye on me. Most likely the later. Still, he has become somewhat distraught over the death of the girl in the prophecy." Severus answered.


"Has he now?" Voldemort said with a raised brow, his black hair still glistening with red blood.


"Speaking of which, my Lord, what...happened...that night?" One of the others asked.


Lucius was unable to suppress a sigh at the man's lack of tact and impatience. Fortunately, it was drowned out by the ever rising sounds of rolling thunder.


"A good question." Voldemort agreed, nonetheless, no doubt still in a good mood from his resurrection and triumph over death.


"When I struck the girl with the killing curse, her mother must have performed a kind of blood sacrifice ritual, using her own soul. While it wasn't enough to protect the girl, it was still enough to rebound the spell and destroy my body." He explained with a pensive look as if he himself was still analyzing what exactly happened.


"What happened to the girl?" Another asked.


Their master turned to look at the woman who asked, and opened his mouth to answer.


BOOM!


Whatever he was to say was drowned out by the deafening blast of thunder as a bolt of lightning streaked down from the sky and collided with the pool of blood. The massive explosion of light and sound stunned them, sending them reeling from sensory overload.


As Lucius looked up, he saw the Master standing before the pool, looking past the cloud of steam rising from it. As he stared intently through the fog, Lucius used his cane to help himself to his feet.


"M-my lord?" Lucius inquired, wondering what was wrong.


He was stopped when Voldemort curtly raised his hand up, signaling for silence.


So he stopped and watched, waiting for whatever his Lord knew would happen to happen.


And then it did.


First, he heard the faint sound of bubbles rising up from the depths of the pool over the loud sounds of people regaining their senses. Then, he saw a hand, small and lithe, pop out from the pool and find purchase on the stone tile floor. Before it could do anything more, Voldemort bent down and grabbed hold of the hand in a tight grip, and effortlessly pulled the being from the pool and threw them onto the center of the floor in front of him. From there, the identity of the being was clear as day.


It was a girl.


A young girl, no older than 7, no younger than 4. While mostly androgynous at this age, the lack of male genitalia was a rather obvious giveaway for her. Like their master, she was covered from head to toe in a thick coat of blood. Unlike, the master, however, there was no confidence or pride in her form.


Instead, she cowered on the ground, her face twisted in confusion and fear. She was lost, scared, and had no idea why she was here, or even where "here" was. It was plain to see in her eyes.


Her emerald green eyes. Behind him, he could hear Severus gasp in shock about something. Lucius ignored it as he focused on those eyes of her. The green was so bright as to almost be considered luminescent whilst her scalera was an odd sort of almost white color.


Before he could think further on the matter, the girl was surrounded by the rest of the Death Eaters.


"My lord!" one shouted, "Who is this girl? What shall we do with her?"


His master, however, refrained from responding for a moment. Instead, he looked at the girl. Studying her with his own pair of bright blood red eyes. Lucius could see the gears turning in his master's head as he thought about who this girl is and what she means.


"I believe…" He began, stepping closer to the girl as he leaned closer to her face. "That this is Lilith Potter."


"The girl who "killed" me."


At once, the Death Eaters surrounding her drew their wands, aiming them at the small girl with obvious intent to kill.


But they were stopped by their master's hand.


"Are you, in fact, Lilith Potter?" He asked the girl, ignoring his underlings.


"I-I-I d-don't k-know." She stuttered in paralyzing fear.


"Perhaps the curse purged your memories?" He muttered quietly to himself.


"My Lord?" Nott raised his voice.


The Master silently looked up at the man, daring him to continue.


"What do you plan to do with the Half-blood?" He asked.


"Perhaps leave her burning disemboweled corpse in front of the Ministry to signify his return?" Yaxley suggested.


There were snickers and murmurs of agreement within the circle, whilst the girl seemed to curl further in on herself, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks.


And this is the problem with dealing with fanatics Lucius all but sighed, All caught up in the fervor of their "cause", and not bothering to think about the consequences.


"No." Voldemort's voice rang out, creating a telling silence in its wake.


"No, I think I have much use for this girl." He murmured. "I see now that I was a fool before. Everything feels so much clearer now."


"I have decided." He began, standing up within the crowd. "This girl…"


"She shall be my heir." Voldemort declared.


There was a tremulous pause that hung in the air after his words.


Then finally, a voice broke the silence.


"A-are you mad?!" Yaxley finally cried.


"Oh?" Voldemort responded in feigned interest.


"She's a filthy half blood! The child of those who opposed you, the one who killed you!" He roared.


"Is that all?" He asked with a false invitation.


"L-look at her. She's a weak child, trembling on the ground in fear." Sir Crabbe said, confidence growing.


Are the sycophants growing a spine? Lucius thought, slightly surprised at their defiance.


Or have they already forgotten how to properly fear him?


As Sir Goyle said, "A-and she's such a small and ugly thing!", he realized it was most likely the latter.


Lucius himself was somewhat dubious of the Master's declaration, but he knew him well enough to know there was some kind of logic behind this. Something that would fit into his grand plan. Either that, or it was some kind of sadistic whim. Either way, questioning him on something he was so sure about was a sure way to invite pain and fear onto yourself.


"So you would question the will of your master?" Voldemort questioned with an innocuous look.


"How do we even know if you're really out master?" Sir Goyle accused.


"Yeah, maybe Severus mucked up the ritual and brought back something else instead!" Yaxley agreed.


"Are you mad, Yaxley? This our Lord!" Sir Nott said.


"Now now, Mr. Nott, no need for that." Voldemort admonished, stepping up to the brute of a man.


"So, Yaxley, you doubt me?" He said as he seemed to tower over the man.


"I-I just think maybe we need to rethink-" He began to try to defend himself, fear sinking into his bones at Voldemort's proximity.


"So you want proof of who I am, is that it?" The Master continued innocently.


"No, I just-"


"Give me your arm," Voldemort said calmly.


"...W-what?"


"Give. Me. Your. Arm," Voldemort repeated slowly.


"B-but you don't have your wand." Yaxley weakly argued.


At this Voldemort gave the man a serene smile. "Do not think, obey."


"Y-yes my lord." Yaxley conceded, extending the arm with the dark mark on it towards the master.


Lucius looked on with interest, curious as to whether he'd be entertained or disturbed.


Voldemort took the brute's hand in one of his own arms, gripping the forearm lightly while running his right hand gently over the dark mark.


"You doubted my abilities without a wand, yes? Doubted that I was your lord and master? If even for only a moment." Voldemort began, gazing at the man's hand intently.


"No, I just-"


"Ah! Don't lie to me, Yaxley." Voldemort interrupted.


"I-I...yes, my lord." He conceded. "I doubted you."


The master nodded silently in acknowledgment, seemingly pleased at his confession.


"Well, allow me to...dispel such doubts," Voldemort said.


He rested his hand a few inches above Yaxley's and then gestured downwards. There seemed to be a pulse of magic. Then?


Crack


"Ahhh!" Yaxley roared in pain as his index finger was bent backward. Bending below his hand from the force of a silent wandless banishing spell.


But Lord Voldemort gave no external reaction. Instead, he only moved his hand slightly and did it again, and again, and again.


With each pulse, a new finger was bent beyond its limits with a painful crack and a new roar of agony. Soon Yaxley was on his knees, clutching the arm in his master's grasp with his free one. With each finger broken, Lucius could see the crowd of "hardened" death eaters flinch at the sight of direct physical damage. It was rare, in the wizarding world, for one to suffer physical damage. Most spells would either cleanly end or stun you, rarely mangling the body in the manner that Voldemort was doing right now. Even the Cruciatus curse, while tormenting, rarely gave any external injuries.


And all the while, Lucius could see the smile on Voldemort remain serene and passive.


"I can see that my absence has temporarily blinded you, Yaxley," Voldemort said as he finally released Yaxley's hand, having run out of fingers and bones in the hand to break.


Yaxley cradled the mangled appendage in his chest, trying to do whatever he could to lessen the pain.


"Perhaps…" The master began, extending a hand out to grasp the side of Yaxley's masked head to make him look him in the eye.


"...Making the blindness more permanent will allow you to truly see?" He said as a suggestion as he held a hand in front of Yaxley's mask.


"M-my lord, please," Yaxley begged


"Now now, I'm doing this for your own good." Voldemort smiled.


And with that, he pushed his hand forwards, before clenching, curling, and twisting it. As he did, Yaxley began to scream in agony. Soon blood began to pour out from the edges of his mask. All the while Voldemort's grin seemed to take on that mad edge it did whenever he found himself immersed in expressing his absolute power over another.


Finally, he released the man, who soon curled up upon himself and whimpered in pain.


"So, does anyone else have any objections?" He asked, "Crabbe, Goyle?"


"N-no, my Lord. Your wish is our command." They answered.


"Good, good." He smiled, folding his hands behind his back.


"Now then," He began, turning back to the stunned and frightened girl on the ground, "Take Yaxley and leave us."


"Y-yes my lord." They stammered as they picked up the broken man and leaving the room.


He made to leave as well when he was halted by his voice.


"Lucius, Severus, you are to remain." He commanded.


Lucius paused, momentarily surprised that he would include Severus, but acknowledging it as fact and moving on.


Turning back to our master, I was surprised to see him holding the child in his arms with something that almost resembled genuine caring.


"I believe we have much to discuss, but let's see if we can't take this conversation somewhere more...comfortable, shall we?"


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I said I was new to HP FF writing, right? Well, I'm also not the most knowledgeable person on it. Which is why I got Dan's help on this.

So, I mean, if I fucked up with someone's personality or something somewhere, whoops.


Tell me and I'll fix it.


Or I'll say "Fuck it" and not, because I don't feel like being 100% accurate to the smallest detail.


I mean, hell, it's already nearly AU anyway. And it's Fanfiction anyway.


But as you can see, Voldy is still a good old twisted fuck.


I also decided to try and keep with my own tone, and make things more visceral and gruesome.


In HP in general, the "bad" people tend to just sling around Crucio and AK's around like it's going out of style.


But that's kind of boring.


I mean, Crucio?


Flick your wand at someone and make them fall to the ground writhing in pain from some red spell?


Meh.


That's not very relatable. You look at that and think, "I'd imagine he's in some terrible pain."


But, if you show someone slowly break every bone in a man's hand before crushing their eyeballs with some fancy TK magic, well I find that that's a lot more relatable. You can more easily understand and empathize with that kind of pain, which is what I'm going for.


So Voldy, or Tom, is going to be more hands on. I'll say his time as an orphan was less sheltered and more "Grew up on the streets", which is what helps set him apart from other wizards.


I also must confess that I got a lot of inspiration from both FMA and Penny Dreadful. Not enough to be a crossover, just themes, and ideas.


This is also a test, if you will, to see how this fic does. If it does well, I'll continue, if not, I'll drop it. I'm going to go through a 4 chapter trial period for it. The rest should be coming before the end of January.


So, I'll see you all later with the next chapter.

A/n:

Alright, well, there's the first chapter for this whole thing.

I'll be throwing up the others soon enough.
 
While the writing is technically competent, the premise throws me off. Fem!Harry isn't a big deal, but the name of Lilith just doesn't seem like something that would be given by either Lily or James to their daughter to begin with. Now if Voldemort had been the one to give it to her himself as a cover for who she had been, it'd make more sense.

This... honestly feels like a lead-in to the dark!edgy!Harry that permeates that fandom overall, and as such, it's throwing me off.
 
While the writing is technically competent, the premise throws me off. Fem!Harry isn't a big deal, but the name of Lilith just doesn't seem like something that would be given by either Lily or James to their daughter to begin with. Now if Voldemort had been the one to give it to her himself as a cover for who she had been, it'd make more sense.

This... honestly feels like a lead-in to the dark!edgy!Harry that permeates that fandom overall, and as such, it's throwing me off.

Lilith is a name I came up with for a few reasons, but one of the largest is that at the time I was very much in a "Oh, man. Lilith is such a cool name, isn't it?". Over time I've become decidedly less fanatic about the name, but at the same time, I like it well enough for this purpose. Certainly not enough to worry about chaning it anytime soon.

I suppose it wouldn't be too hard to just do a re-edit where I go back and make it so her initial name was something like Lilian and Tom just renames her or something. I might do that.

As for the edgelord thing, Imma try not to. Granted, naming her Lilith, of all things, probably doesn't help my case, but that really isn't my goal. Plus it's going to be a long ass time until we actually get to see her in her teens or even Hogwarts at all.

Optimally, I'd like to have her be adorifying. However, that can be a bit tricky to pull off and not have it be annoying. So more realistically, I'm going to give her the same treatment I'm giving much of the other people on team "Dark wizards", and hell, people in general. I'm going to try and make Voldy and company people who are unapologetically not nice people, but at the same time reasonable and rational. They'll fully recognize that they are terrible people and that they'll do terrible things to get want they want, but they'll generally want to a certain end goal or ambition by whatever rational means necessary.

They won't be mustache twirling evil about it, but they'll certainly use underhanded tactics to win and occasionally feed certain dark desires they might have. But any time they do something I'll try to give them an actual reason, as opposed to kicking puppies because it's evil. This is going to reflect in Lilith too, where she ends up not being afraid to lie, cheat, steal, and kill to win.

But for the edgelord stuff? Well, I consider a large part of edgelordness to be an aspect of self-pity, where someone's like "I've had such a crappy life, that's why I'm so awesome, and I'm so cool", which is something I'm going to try to stay far the hell away from. Voldy's going to be narcissistic and sadistic, but that's just who he is and it's going to be matched with pragmatism and ambition. Lucius is a two faced liar who only works to his own ends, which in this case align very closely to what Tom wants. Snape is, frankly, a broken man that Lucius has glued together into something resembling a functioning person to suit his needs. And Bellatrix is obsessive and sadistic but has poor self-confidence or self-esteem which takes the form of constantly needing to prove herself.

Lilith, by the time Hogwarts comes about is going to be...something. Hogwarts era stuff is a long way off in the story, and even now I'm not 100% sure where her personality is going to end up after everything that she's going to go through. At present, I'm thinking she's going to, as I said, lie cheat steal and kill to get what she wants, but she's also going to have a crippling fear of crowds, or at the very least do very badly in the presence of large groups of strangers. She'll also probably have a surprisingly macabre sense of humor, or (and this is more likely) a much higher tolerance for gore and the macabre than others, and not realize that such sensitivity is even a thing or that she has extremely high tolerances.

Silver Serpent isn't going to be a story about a particularly dark or edgy fem!harry that takes Hogwarts by storm. Sure, that might happen, but that's not what I had in mind when I started writing this.

This is going to be a story about, at the core, Tom Riddle and Lilith Potter forging a somewhat odd father-daughter relationship. That's what I set out to do when I made this story, and that's why it exists. A somewhat strange premise, I know, but I couldn't find anything like it that I liked so I decided to write my own. There's a lot of layers on top of it, but that's what it's going to be at the core, and it's what I'm going to try to build everything around.

And I realize that, well, this is all tell. This me just saying what I want to do. This is far from proof. It's also long as fuck, but that's beside the point. All my words here are just bluster and false promises if I can't actually show you it on the page when I write this story out. So hopefully the next chapters I write show you want the story I want to tell.

Long story short. No, edge-lord fem!harry is not the goal, I was aiming for unusual Crime-lord Riddle/Potter Father-Daughter relationship with a shadow war and revolution in the background. Also, Lilith might not be the greatest name ever, but I'm lazy and I already like it too much, might paste on an edit to make it not her original name.

Hopefully, this assuages your fears. If not, eh, I tried. Can't do much more than that. Either way, appreciate the feedback.
 
Cool premise, although the characters seem a bit off somehow.
 
Blood 1.2
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Silver Serpent

Chapter 2

Die in Fire

"So…" Lucius began

"You are quite certain that this is Lilith Potter?" He asked tentatively.

"It is the only conclusion that makes sense," Voldemort responded in a concerned manner, his lips pursed, brow furrowed, and rubbing his bare chin in thought.

Before them lay the girl, exhausted by the events earlier today, and now sleeping on a transfigured bed, wrapped in blankets to shield her from the cold.

"Could you elaborate on that?" Severus asked distractedly, mesmerized by the girl in front of him.

Nodding quietly while looking at the girl, he thought of where to start.

"...When I hit the girl with the killing curse, and it rebounded back at me, it also affected the girl. When it ripped out my soul from my body, it did the same to hers. Since it was all done with the same spell and done so close together, it...bound us together before flinging us into un-life." He explained carefully, seemingly trying to recall what specifically happened.

"Bound you together?" Severus inquired, turning from the girl for a moment in interest.

"Yes. The details are a bit fuzzy, considering I was little more than a shade at the time, but yes." He answered pensively. "And I believe when you enacted the ritual to bring me back, she was pulled back with me."

"But why come back as a girl and not the baby she was when she perished?" Severus inquired.

"I have no answer for that. All this is such extreme and bizarre territory that there has never been anything close to a precedent for it. Perhaps her new existence was molded by my own perception and knowledge? Maybe some tether in the rest of the world caused her to age with it?" Voldemort surmised.

"You don't suppose...that being bound together had an impact on you, did it?" Severus hesitantly put forward.

At this, Voldemort's frown seemed to deepen. "What do you mean?"

"Just that by being bound together for so long, the two of you might have impacted on another's existence. She might have, for lack of a better term, 'rubbed off on you'" Severus explained.

"...And you think she may have made me soft?" He guessed with a dangerous scowl.

"Doubtful." Lucius interrupted, speaking up again.

"Children at the age she was when she died are self-centered, narcissistic, and occasionally sadistic. They don't actually learn the greater majority of their morals until much later in life." He explained.

"Speaking from personal experience Lucius?" Severus attempted to goad.

"Yes, actually. Draco was quite the little devil when he was younger. Drove me and Narissa quite mad." Lucius countered.

"Still does." He sighed.

"Lucius does have a point, however. She had about as much impact as a mouse colliding with an elephant. Her young soul had nothing to really affect my own." Voldemort added.

"So why take her as your heir?" Lucius asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

He knew his master had a good reason, and he wanted to know what it was.

"Can the two of you not feel it? The sheer level of power within her?" Voldemort questioned.

The two of them blinked in surprise, not knowing what their master was talking about. Lucius decided to take some initiative and placed a hand on the sleeping girl's head while pouring some magic into her in the effort to try and detect her magical core. What he found made him gasp out in surprise.

"By Merlin." He cursed under his breath

"Lucius?" Severus inquired with a quirked brow.

"Her magical core is almost as large as my own." Lucius finally said.

A revelation that caused Severus to blink in surprise as well.

It was common knowledge that one's magical core started small and grew as they aged. For the most part, it tended to match their physical growth. This continued until they reached physical maturity, at which point their magical core would still continue to grow, if at a slower rate, until the day they died.

In general, a child's magical core was several times smaller than one of an average adult. Lucius himself actually had a slightly larger core than an average wizard. Nothing compared to Lord Voldemort's monstrous one, but very little could truly compare to his power.

But this girl's core was already comparable to a full grown adult's. If it was this powerful as a child, it was well within her potential to match, or even surpass, their master by the time she reached physical maturity.

"But that is not all." The master continued, pulling them from their thoughts.

"As you can see…" He began, wiping some of the blood from her face, and revealing the pale ashen grey skin beneath. "She is like me now."

"Another perfect Homunculus…" Severus muttered in suppressed awe.

"She's as close to perfect as anything other than me can get." Voldemort reasoned as he wiped more blood from her pale face

"And near as I can tell, the only thing worthy to be my heir." He finished, looking back towards the other men in the room.

"But why even bother with an heir? Was your goal not to become immortal? Did you not succeed?" Lucius asked, genuinely curious why. His master certainly never seemed interested in children before.

"...While you may consider what happened on All Hallow's Eve to be a success, I consider it a dangerous warning." The Master said after a moment in thought to consider how to approach the question.

"True, I did recover from something that should have killed me, but it shouldn't have happened in the first place. It just showed me that I cannot predict everything. Magic is still wild, dangerous, and unknown. Reality a cruel and unpredictable beast. I cannot guarantee with absolute certainty that something as unexpected as that night will not occur again." He explained.

"And I cannot guarantee that it will not end me for good next time." he finished with a grim look.

"But what about the Horcruxes?" Lucius calmly brought up with concern.

"They are good, but they are not without flaw. It is not impossible for someone to manage to eliminate them all before killing me. Difficult and suicidal? Yes. Impossible? No." He answered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"And I doubt that the body of this "perfect Homunculus" that you have given me, Severus, is impervious to harm either?" Voldemort asked,

"N-no, my lord. While it is much stronger and more durable than a human's body, to the point of near immortality, it is not impossible to kill." Severus said hesitantly, not wanting to disappoint his master.

Steepling his hands together and looking down at the girl with a serious expression, the Master continued.

"I had been both arrogant and ignorant, assuming I had bested death and all machinations of reality. That I had outsmarted god. When it was challenged, I sought to end the challenge as quickly as possible without properly thinking things through. Now I feel my mind has been cleared. I can no longer make the same brazen assumptions I had in the past. I can take no chances." He mused externally.

"I must expect the best, and prepare for the worst. I have not become immortal, simply much more difficult to kill than an ordinary man. Should something unthinkable happen, I need to preserve my immortality in another form. One tested by time." He explained.

"You mean to leave a legacy?" Lucius deduced.

"I had always meant to leave a legacy, of a sort. Before it was simply going to be a world I ruled under my indisputable control. Now, I want to make sure that should I pass, I will never be forgotten." He answered with a resolute look.

"I shall build an empire the likes the wizarding world has never seen. My name shall become known throughout the lands, spoken with reverence and trepidation. I shall not only be feared, but respected. Perhaps even loved." The Master expounded

"And she…" He continued, turning back to the girl, cupping the pale cheek of the sleeping girl.

"She shall be witness to all of it, as my heir. My most powerful weapon, and most treasured legacy," he stated.

"Severus," Voldemort said, suddenly switching tone into a more authoritative one.

"Master?" Severus jolted.

"I brought you here because I believe with this, I have your complete loyalty." Their master asserted.

Severus made to speak, but was interrupted again.

"I know of how you felt about Lily Potter. She was one of the only things you actually cared about in our cold, dead, heart. You're not sure who to blame for her death, are you?"

"You blame me because, well, I killed her with my own two hands. You blame Dumbledore because the old fool twisted her mind into taking the blow in the first place. The man had promised to protect them, and yet he left them served up on a silver platter for me." he continued. "I may have killed her, but I followed through on who I was. Dumbledore, for all his good intentions, however, deceived and failed you."

"...My Lord..." Severus tried to defend, searching for the right way to answer.

Lie, and Voldemort might kill him, or otherwise make his existence a painful hell. Tell the truth, and Voldemort might not like what he hears, leading to much the same response.

"Do you hate me for killing Lily?" Their Lord continued, prying the wound open further.

Severus stammered again, intimidated by his sheer presence of force, as well as the way he was backing him into a corner with no right answer.

"Does some part of you want to take the brat and run off to a cottage somewhere? Raise her as your own daughter you wished you had with that woman?"

"Or maybe you'd plow her like you wished you did to her mother? Sate your appetite on the next best thing?" Voldemort antagonized.

Severus backed up, his face horrified while an embarrassed blush grew upon his face, all the while their master stepped closer, drawing into his personal space like a viper ready to strike, all with a look of such intensity even Lucius began to feel its pressure upon him.

"Well, Severus? Do you hate me? Want to rebel against me? Take the girl for yourself?" The master said with a final jab at Severus' chest, backing him up against a wall.

"I-I-I could never love a-a-a m-mud-blood like her." Severus lied through his teeth, reciting the party line.

And with his words, Voldemort startled them all by suddenly leaning back away from Severus and letting out a harsh burst of laughter.

"Oh Severus," He began, gathering his wits again, "You may be able to be a decent spy, but truly your heart will always be your greatest weakness."

"More to the point," He grinned, straightening up, "I don't actually hate Lily Potter."

Severus jolted in surprise, almost as if he had been physically struck by his words. Even Lucius raised an inquisitive brow at where their master was going with this.

"You'll find, Severus, I don't hate mud-bloods, muggle-borns, or whatever the bloody hell you want to call them quite as much as I'd have people believe." He explained.

"Y-you don't, my lord?" Severus inquired.

"No," He shrugged, "I'm something of an equal opportunity person."

"I don't rightly care where the power comes from, power is power. There is no good and evil, only people with power and what they do with it." He commented, "Whining about whether it comes from a pureblood wizard or a muggle-born witch is beneath someone like me."

"B-but she stood in your way, she managed to...defeat...you" He stammered.

"She managed to find a way to outwit me, if only for a time, an action not many can boast." He admitted. "Using such dark magic to use my own habits against me is cunning and tenacity that I can't help but respect."

"You...respect her?" Lucius said after a moment, Severus too stunned to speak.

"Indeed. After all, it was her act of black magic that managed to kill me, and take me off the scene for several years. Not the efforts of Dumbledore, the deluded fool." He explained.

"So...do you actually plan on raising the girl?" Lucius asked

"Yes. I want to ensure her loyalty to me. It will be absolute and unquestionable. I could use potions or spells to ensorcell her, but they could all be countered and ultimately fail. No." He answered.

"Instead, I shall personally instruct her. She is still young and malleable. I will shape her into being my heir, in my own way, and without anyone I don't trust completely influencing her. She's like a blank page, and I intend to be the only mark left on it." Voldemort explained. "She shall be completely indoctrinated to my views."

"You know...most people would call that 'Raising her as my daughter'" Lucius drily commented, something his Lord responded to with a flat glare.

Turning back to the Severus, who appeared to be reworking his entire world views, Voldemort spoke up again.

"Severus." He said, drawing the man's his attention.

"My lord?" Severus answered his master's call.

"As I said, I believe this should ensure your complete loyalty. I am well aware of your feelings toward Lily, and this is the last of her legacy. Rest assured, she will be safe in my hands, not the old fool's." Voldemort explained. "He should have no more hold over you."

"Unless there's something you wanted to tell me?" He challenged.

Severus paused as he realized what his supposed master was saying. Dumbledore used his own guilt about Lily to force him to help them, but now...

Now the last remnant of Lily rests in the Master's hands Severus realized, And the only way to protect her, would be to commit to him.

"...No, master. you are correct." Severus admitted simply.

"Good." Their master said simply with a nod.

"You and Lucius leave the room. I have some things to discuss with my new charge." Voldemort commanded.

"Yes my lord." Lucius and Severus responded, the former with more respect and the latter with more fear.

Once the two had walked out of the large impromptu bedroom, Voldemort used the wand gifted to him from his Left Hand to cast several silent privacy wards to ensure discretion. Turning to the sleeping girl behind him, he steeled himself as he prepared to do something he had never really prepared himself to deal with.

Talking with a small, no doubt frightened and confused, little girl.

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Tom pov

I looked down at the girl as she stirred from her sleep. I'd already lifted the spell from her mind, but she seemed to be taking her sweet time in actually coming to join the waking world.

Finally, her emerald eyes fluttered open. A tired lack of awareness filling them. Soon, however, they flitted to my position by the bed.

"F-father?" She asked, unsure of herself, but recognition flashing in her eyes.

Well...this is an interesting development

"Father?" I questioned with a quirked brow, "Where did you get that impression?"

"I-I don't know. Just...you seem familiar. A-and I just have a kind of feeling about you." She stammered.

"Do you now?" I continued, narrowing my eyes as my mind raced with possibilities.

Perhaps, thanks to the way our souls were bound for 6 years, my soul left an imprint of some sort on her own? Maybe it's grown...accustomed...to my own soul's presence. I considered.

"A-are you my father?" She asked in his silence.

I considered how to answer this. I could play into this illusion and lie. Or I could tell the truth and work from there.

Well...dealing with this now, while she's young, weak, and malleable, would be preferable to dealing with this when she's older and can actually stand against me in some small way. I all but sighed. Holding this off is just asking for this to bite me in arse later.

"...No...not originally, at least." I finally answered.

"What?" She said with a curious tilt of her head.

"I am not your original father. But, from this day forth, you are my charge." I explained.

"Oh…" She said sadly.

"Do you not remember your original father?" I asked, curious about why she was taking this how she was.

"No." She shook her head.

Interesting...that should make things easier.

"What about your mother?" I continued, prodding even further.

At this, she seemed to scrunch her face up in thought.

"I...maybe?" She said with uncertainty.

"Well, in that case, I'm going to be upfront with you," I announced straightening my robe as I drew up to my full height. "I'd rather get this out of the way first."

"I killed your mother." I declared to the girl.

"Oh…" she said simply.

"Ok."

I blinked. I expected panic, rage, confusion. Something!

Not...this

"I'm sorry, what?" I questioned.

"What?" She responded, not understanding the question.

"I expected you to be more...emotional." I expressed, "and defiant."

"Oh…" she said, looking down at the floor again. "Sorry."

You know, now I can't help but feel cheated in some way I admitted to myself, It's a rather underwhelming performance considering what I expected.

"There's nothing wrong with it. Its just...usually people are more concerned about their mothers." I said in an effort to...comfort...her.

This is what normal people are supposed to do with young girls, yes?

The girl before me shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, I just don't really feel anything about that. I can't remember much about her."

Perhaps it's shock? I considered. After all, she'd certainly seen quite a lot in the past few minutes. I wouldn't be surprised if she was punch drunk from it all.

"So what do you remember about your mother?" I asked.

"Just...she was nice, and warm, and gave me hugs. Then one day she went out to hunt and never came back. They said she was dead, but…" She trailed off

"That...that doesn't make any sense." I began, thrown off by the memory.

"I killed your mother in front of you before I killed you too. Do you remember that? Your death?" I inquired, trying to steer things back to what I knew.

A mystery had been placed before me, one that I felt I needed to solve. None of this made any sense, none of the girl's memories seemed to line of up what actually happened. And yet, I was sure that this was Lilith Potter. The girl I killed, and who killed me in return.

"My…death…" She said in a hollow voice as if being taken by memories of her traumatic past.

"I-I remember the pain. So much pain." She began

"I remember ripping and tearing. I remember her screaming out my name. She killed me. It's her fault. She left me to die." The girl continued, becoming lost in her pain.

She drew in upon herself, curling up into a ball. Her hands tightening against her skin, straining against the pale flesh they clawed into it.

"I remember the rip and tear meat and mind. The rending of body and bone. The destruction of skin and sanity." She shivered, almost like she was in a trance. "The scent of blood fear and piss filling the air as I drowned in my own fluids"

"Then there was the chanting. The chanting and burning. Bound and restrained, mocked and taunted, I was deemed an abomination and slain in their lord's name." She said, her tone becoming entrancing and ethereal.

"The fire crept upon my body, melting my skin and boiling my blood. The fumes filled my lungs, choking me, poisoning me, from the inside out."

"Lilith?" I said, trying to rouse her from her trance.

"There was always so much pain, so much fear and agony. Why me? Why was it always me? What had I done? Why did I deserve this?" She finished, whispering hollow and desperate questions to no one in particular.

"Lilith!" I shouted, shaking her body.

"Wha-?" She said listlessly

"You fell into some form of trance," I explained

I don't like this I frowned, this is all quite disconcerting.

"I did?" She questioned, not aware of what really happened to her.

"Yes, you did," I said as I considered what this all meant. "Are you well?"

"Y-yeah. I think so." She answered, once again unable to look straight at the man before her.

The death she describes I pondered, directing me attention elsewhere for a moment, it in no way matches what I did to Lilith Potter.

And yet…there is no doubt in my mind that this is, in fact, Lilith Potter. Or, at the very least, a soul created from the remnants of that girl.

But none of this makes any sense.
I all but scowled in consternation.

Then, I was struck by a moment of realization.

"You mentioned being torn apart and being burned. These were two separate events, correct?" I asked the girl

"u-uh" She stammered for a moment, startled by his sudden query, "Y-yes."

"So you remember dying twice? Interesting." I murmured in thought, possibilities and ideas spinning about in my mind. I just had to reach out and grab one.

Well, taking that information into account, it brings up several possibilities. Two, in particular.

"I believe you are remembering you past lives." He finally said. "Or deaths, in this case."

"I-I am?" She said in confusion and disbelief.

"It's likely, in any event. You could have also just absorbed the memories from the pool of blood and souls my followers produced for me, taking in the most traumatic and upsetting ones." He admitted.

"If I had to guess, the reason you are remembering your past lives is because of all the turbulent trauma your soul has gone through in such a short time, in addition to how young and fresh it was when I ripped it from your original body." He explained.

"So…reincarnation is real?" She asked, not entirely sure what to believe.

"It's a theory that's never been disproven, at the very least.

"The other possibility," I brought up, "Is that you've retained the memories of several of the people who died in the sacrifice to us."

"People...who died?" She slowly repeated.

"Right," I rubbed my chin, thinking about all that I was going to catch her up on. It seemed like it was safe to say that she was essentially a functional 6 or so year old, but had no relevant memories that she could easily bring to the front.

Well, besides me, apparently.

"It was a resurrection ritual. One that required quite a lot of sacrifices. Basically, a lot of people died to bring you back. Probably unwillingly." I succinctly answered her, "It's possible that when you were reborn in their blood that some of their memories were merged into your form. After all, our souls and bodies were reborn and repaired using the raw materials provided to us by their remains. For me, I have a better sense of self because, among other things, I'm an adult who knows what he wants. You, on the other hand, were a small baby who probably barely knew who her name was."

Finally, immersed in the details and depths of magical theory, I let myself sigh.

"Frankly, I don't know." I admitted, "it's all quite strange and deep within the area of Magic's mysteries. I don't have a clean and easy answer, only hypothesis."

"To be honest, the most glaring thing about learning about soul magic was learning how much we didn't know about soul magic. There are so many unknowns, assumptions, theory's, and source material it's absurd." I explained, having become an expert in soul magic in my search for immortality.

"The most obnoxious part of the whole thing is their lack of willingness to do any serious experimentation. We'd know so much more if those wizards were willing to perform tests on human souls to find the answers they sought. But no, can't have any "Black Magic" can we? Someone might try to take over the world or something." I grumbled to her.

It was something that seriously annoyed me about my research into the area, how much was unknown simply because the wizarding was simply too scared to delve into the mysteries of the deep, to plunge into the darkness to find what lay inside. They always worried about "black magic" and "tainting their soul". The people who were willing to use black magic were too set in their ways to bother trying to innovate.

The Muggle term, "If it ain't broke don't fix it" seems to be a very disturbingly apt one for the wizarding world. I internally grumbled.

Though...I considered if she is remembering her reincarnated memories, why didn't that affect me?

Perhaps they have, but I just haven't noticed yet?

Or maybe my entire theory for why this is all happening is wrong and I don't know as much as I think I do.
I conceded with a sigh.

Looking up, I caught a ghost of a smile on the girl's face. Why it was there, I had no idea, nor did he particularly care.

"Regardless, there is a more pressing issue at the moment," I said, tabling the previous train of thought for a later date.

"So, do you remember your name? Or, at the least, remember one you might prefer?" I asked.

The girl in front of me pursed her lips and furrowed her brow for a moment of thought, but in the end shook her head helplessly.

"I figured as much," I said, resigned to her strange predicament.

Still, we were in the same boat now. We lay deep in the uncharted waters of magic, and all we could do was chart our own course.

"Still, I suppose this makes things easier for me. From here on, you shall be known as Lilith. Not sure about your last name yet. It certainly won't be Potter, and I don't plan on going around calling myself Tom Riddle. That'd be a little too obvious when I'm trying to keep things under wraps." I announced to her.

The newly named, or renamed in this case, nodded her head in acceptance, the smallest of smile crawling up her face. Then, it faltered and died as something else she had remembered came to mind.

"U-uh…mister…." She began, not sure what to call him.

I sighed, realizing I didn't have a great name for her to call me right now. While I would have preferred Tom or Mr. Riddle, I doubted she would have the discretion necessary to realize not to say that while I followers were present, and I'd rather they not know my real name. With certain exceptions, of course. She could call me Voldemort, but I had enough people calling me that and I wasn't honestly that fond of the French name. Not anymore, at least. It was fun when I first came up with the anagram, but now it was sort of grating considering most people were too scared to say it, and when they did say it they pronounced it incorrectly.

Plus, it wouldn't do for her to slip because of habit in public and call me Voldemort.

I could go with lord or master, like my followers, but the idea of a little girl calling me that left a bad taste in my mouth. Having a legion of adult followers calling me that of their own volition was one thing. Having a little girl recently reborn and in my care doing so was another matter entirely.

At a certain point, there was a difference between not letting scruples slow down my march for power and progress, and becoming cartoonishly evil. I had the unnerving feeling that at some point during my madness driven march down darkness I might have crossed that line.

So now I was trying to reign things in a bit. Give sanity a chance and all that.

Just because I'm delving into the darkest depths of magic doesn't I have to be a psychotically evil mad man out to make everyone hate me I frowned, Although...my certain fondness for the screams might...

I shook my head of that distracting train of thought and brought myself back on topic.

In the end, I resigned myself to one final choice. I knew if I spent more time thinking about it, I could figure out a better answer, but for now, this was all I could think of. I also really wanted to move on. And knowing my luck, she would just end up calling me it anyway.

"Seeing as I have taken you as my Heir…I suppose calling me father would be appropriate after all." I admitted.

And with those words, Lilith's face lit up briefly at the joy of having someone she could call father. Why it mattered so much to her, I had no idea.

At least, that's what I told myself.

"So what was it you wanted to tell me?" I said tiredly, already knowing I was going to regret this.

"Uh, right. Father…what is a witch?" She asked innocently and completely seriously.

I blinked.

What?

"You, Lilith, are a witch. A woman who can perform magic." I explained, perplexed as to why she wouldn't know what a witch was before another thought crossed my mind.

Why would she?

She's already displayed a lack of any real tangible memories linked to anything specific. Well, save for two deaths and the death of her mother that doesn't in any way line up with the reality I know. So the real question is why does the word witch stand out in her mind? Sure, I mentioned the ritual and magic, but this sounds more...specific than a general inquiry on magic.

"Oh…" She said dejectedly, "So they were right."

"Right? Who was right?" I asked, not liking where this was going.

At my question the girl looked down to the floor, unable to even look at me. Her voice was empty, yet resigned. her shoulders sagged while her dark hair shadowed her face.

"The people who burned me."

:

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A/n:

So here we are, with Chap 2 of Silver Serpent.

Yes, Lilith is going to be calling Tom her father. Honestly, at first as a gut reaction, I sort of wanted that, but pulled back from it. Then I thought about it and decided I could kind of make it work.

If you can't tell, Tom isn't going to be starting the next Wizarding War.

Well, not immediately, anyway. He's going to be working under cover, at least until the events of the books are supposed to take place.

I say supposed because, well, there really isn't a way for it to happen now. I mean, 95% of the books happened because of Voldemort trying to kill harry. But now she's calling him dad, so that's not going to happen well. So you can just go ahead and throw canon out the window because it ain't happening.

And as indicated, part of this plan of his, Tom's going to be walking around outside and interacting with the rest of the world. And he's probably going to be taking his Heir along for at least some of that. It wouldn't do for her to give him away by accident.

As for why he revealed that whole "I killed your mom and tried to kill you" thing, I figure he can be smooth and suave when he wants, but he can be ruthless and blunt when he feels it would work best.

I also don't really want that to be a plot point of angst, having him lying to her for her entire life or something. Yeah, I've seen that happen way too much in both FF and actual stories. I don't want to do that myself, it's too...messy. I have to eventually have the reveal of the whole "I'm not your dad, I killed your family, angst for me! Blah blah blah".

I'm going to be making enough angst and existential issues on my own, I don't need more cliches to add to that. Trust me, we'll get to depression town just fine on our own.

On another note, yes, I'm being intentionally vague with why Lilith is the way she is and what she is. In part, this is because if I try to get too specific with it I might trip myself up later, making ironclad rules early on can screw you later. It's also because I don't want to spoil things that I may or may not have planned for later.

I'm also trying to make Tom more scientific. But with magic. So, scholarly I guess?

He's sort of a mad scientist...but with magic.

The man managed to figure out a way to give himself a shoddy version of immortality at a fairly young age, and didn't let a petty thing like "morality" get in his way to do it. This sounds like a man with the ambition and hunger for knowledge to delve deep into what many would consider impossible or unconscionable, all in pursuit of what he wanted.

It might be a while before I update this one again, by which I mean more than a week. I plan on big things for the next chapter.

Big, gory, murderous things.

But for now, Hope yall enjoy the rest of your new year.

A/n: Alright, hopefully that answers some of the questions that you all had about the last chapter.

I also might have messed some things up in Tom's pov. It was originally in 3rd person but in this edit, it's been switched to 1st person. Mostly because I really like the 1st person in certain scenarios and because of certain things I did later.

However, I made that change after I was tired and hungry as fuck with only coffee and music to fuel me. So I might have missed some shit.

The general theme I want to get off with Lilith is that they just don't know. They have ideas and theories as to why she is the way she is, but they just don't know. I mean, I know. And their's a fair chance they'll figure it out eventually, put the puzzle pieces together, but at the moment theirs just too little information and no precedent for them.

As for Voldy and company, I'm trying to make them still terrible people, but not unreasonable people. Too often in HP fics where they take the perspective of the "bad guys" they turn to not actually be bad people and instead they're actually pretty nice, and in fact, it's the good guys who were the assholes all along.

In this scenario, they're still going to be pretty fucked up.

That's all I have to say for the moment, I'll be posting another chapter in a bit.
 
Oooooohhh, memories of one of the many innocent victims of the Salem Witch hunts? Or even more extreme and highly unlikely it will be something like Joan of Arc. Which would put an interesting twist on things.
 
Oh shit she remembers the witch burnings...
 
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