Ancient: The Legacy of Slytherin

Pensive III

996 A.D.

Salazar Slytherin held the paper between his hands. His knuckles flexed and loosened, nearly turning white from the effort it took him not to rip the paper into shreds. There, in black and white and moving image, was the only woman he ever loved.

"Thomas Gene marries Isabella Rackham."

He sat up straighter as a small child walked into the moving image. The child was no more than two.

A boy.

Impossible, he thought. How could she have had a bloody child in the small amount of time they had been separated? He was just with her. He was just-

A thought dawned on him, and he nearly crumpled the entire paper as his wife walked into the kitchen.

"Merlin, Salazar. I wanted to read that."

He snapped out of his thoughts as his fiancée's voice washed over him. Bloody shrill tone it was. Not like Isabella's. No. Isabella's voice sounded like a melody crafted specifically for him, soothing him every time she opened her mouth.

"Salazar? I'm talking to you."

Again, he was pulled from his precious daydream by her harsh tone.

"Apologies, darling. Must have been something I ate. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"What does that have to do with you nearly destroying the Daily Prophet?"

"Hmm?"

"Salazar."

"I'm sorry, my love. I'm here. Promise."

He couldn't have been further away.
+++

Little Edward Gene bounded into the living room, giggling as his father chased after him. He had the same laugh as his mother.

Isabella Rackham-Gene prayed that her son wouldn't be cursed with her gift.

He was too young, too innocent to possess something so terrible. Terrible and powerful.

She smiled as her husband lifted up their son, but it didn't reach her eyes.

No. Not their son. His.

And Isabella would have to live with that fact for the rest of her life.
+++

994 A.D. Hogwarts.

"So these are the plans?" Isabella raised an eyebrow as she looked between Salazar and the parchment.

"Yes."

"Another giant bust of your head, love?"

Isabella chuckled as she held the sketches in her hand. She looked over at Salazar, who was seated at his desk in his Scriptorium, under the other bust of his head. He raised an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?"

"You're obsessed with yourself."

He stood, slowly walking over to her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I'm an incredibly handsome, talented wizard. Why shouldn't I be obsessed with myself?" His hands closed around her waist, and she giggled that glorious sound as he pulled her back into him. He placed a trail of hot kisses up the column of her neck until he reached the sensitive skin under her ear. Her neck scrunched into his touch, and he took the opportunity to kiss her deeply as she smiled.

Bloody hell, was he in love.

Love isn't something Salazar Slytherin ever saw for himself. His whole plan to seduce and impregnate Isabella fell apart after the first time they were intimate. As soon as their lips met, he knew he was done for. His heart broke all over again as he remembered: Isabella can't have children.