I knew trying to do a ritual I found online was a terrible fucking idea. I mean what fucking idiot looks at a shady website with hentai ads popping up every thirty seconds and goes;
"I bet the spells and rituals on this website are totally legit and will definitely work as advertised."
That idiot was me…
Sir Dumbass, knight of the Durrrr Table. Follower of the Tism Faith, and keeper of the Holy Tard.
One jank ass ritual plus one dumb ass shit college dropout and the potential for bullshit exponentially skyrocketed. It all went great at first. Flashing lights, the feeling of amazing warmth spreading through my limbs.
Then the shit hit the fan.
Pain followed thereafter, I felt like Godzilla had decided to use me as a speed bag. Everything hurt, from my arms and legs, even my hair was hurting.
How does that even happen?! It made absolutely no sense. The pain disappeared not long after leaving me feeling cold and slightly violated. I couldn't move, which was strange since I could still feel my own body. Not being able to move while obviously not paralyzed was the least of my concerns.
The darkness around me cracked and a crooning voice hissed at me. Strange string of words I know, but bear with me.
More light streamed into my vision as I cracked open my eyes. It felt weird, opening my eyes I mean. It was like I had a terrible case of pink eye, without the irritation. My eyes felt heavy and everything was dull. The voice that had spoken hissed out again and I finally focused on the sound.
'The fuck?'
I was looking at an extremely old man with the longest fucking beard I had ever seen in my life. That wasn't the strangest part, no. That craziest thing was the old man was fucking gigantic. Discount Gandalf smiled happily at me and I felt icky for some reason.
§Greetings young one.§
'There's that fucking hissing aga- wait did that actually make sense?'
§Uhh Hi?§
I was actually losing my fucking mind I felt. Here I was talking to a gigantic geriatric Gandalf wannabe like it was just another Tuesday.
§My name is Salazar, what is yours?§ The old man hissed/asked.
Hazy memories surfaced as my baffled mind slowly put things together. Confusion gave way to disbelief which gave way to pleading.
'Please, for the love of whatever higher power is listening… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to perform that ritual. Please put me back!' I cried out in my mind.
Some old dude in green robes, hissing that sounded like English, the old dudes name being SALAZAR, my sudden shrinkage.
Everything pointed to one thing… and I fucking hated the implications with every fiber of my being.
I had been transmitigated into the body of a fucking baby basilisk.
[Time Skip]
What does one do when they find out that they now inhabit the body of a highly venomous mythical creature from a fantasy series?
Cry, cry a lot that what or at least what passed off for crying to a snake. It was mainly a lot of internal cussing and attempts at suicide. Unfortunately I was the size of a fucking spaghetti noodle and Salazar was very protective of his new 'familiar'.
After realizing where I was and what I had been stuffed into, I attempted to swan dive off of the table I was on only to be caught by the old wizard. The infuriating old coot chuckled at me and told me to be careful before putting me back on the table. He had asked for my name again and I eventually relented.
Now, my old name was basic as shit so there was no way I was going to use that. I also wasn't a weeb so there was no way in hell that I was calling myself 'Kuro' or 'Mitsubishi' or some other edgelord name. Wizards must actually be mentally slow if they thought that newborns would know their names off the bat. Given that I was now a magical creature I figured that it would just come to me.
It didn't.
Seeing that I wasn't going to provide him with a name Salazar had seen fit to give me a name. Thankfully he had confirmed that I was a male, or else I would have ended up named Sally or some shit.
Salazar gave me the name Jörmungandr. Still too edgy in my mind so I mentally translated it to 'Joe' everytime I heard my name being called just so I didn't cringe to death.
Still, it was an appropriate name seeing that the ambient magic of the world had made me grow faster than expected. Nearly ten years had passed since I was rudely dropped into this new scaly body and I was now almost fifteen feet long and as thick around as an average human head. I learned to control my death stare and venom in my first year as a newborn basilisk, soon after that I learned the basics of the new world I was in through Salazar and books he left laying around.
It was through these books that I learned actual ritual magic and magic in general. It only made sense that I could do magic being that I was a magical creature. It started out with simple things like levitating stuff and setting stuff on fire. Salazar found me roasting a mouse with green flames one day and after that he decided that he was going to teach me magic himself.
Salazar was a strange wizard. I hadn't been a very big Potter nerd in my old world but everything I had ever read be it fan fiction or the actual books, they all alluded to Salazar Slytherin being an evil bastard. Truthfully Salazar just hated the way magic was treated. Witch hunts were still common and the church liked to point fingers at people who displayed even a hint of being special. In my old world I hadn't been too big on religious people too. They were too zealous and way too judgy for inconsequential shit. So in short, I completely understood Slytherin's viewpoint on the non-magical public. That wasn't to say that he hated everyone. He just held a disdain for bigots and holier than thou groups.
§You need to focus, lest the magic come undone.§
I wanted to roll my eyes at the old wizard, unfortunately I was a snake and it was physically impossible. So I did the next best thing, I set his beard on fire. Salazar cursed and swat at his flaming hair, I mentally chuckled and went back to focusing on the ritual I was doing.
A few weeks ago Salazar had discovered a ritual that would grant a wizard's familiar a human shape. I didn't want to believe it at first, seeing how convenient it was but eventually I gave in to my own curiosity. The ritual called for a slew of materials and an intricate rune matrix drawn in the wizard's blood. It also needed a willing magical familiar.
Like I said, way too fucking convienient.
I still wasn't convinced that there WAS some higher power fucking with me. I mentally swore to kick their shit in if I ever ran into them.
I closed my eyes and focused inward, thankfully the ritual didn't need me to do anything more than to do some meditating while Salazar did all the heavy work. Deep in my own mind I found a mental image of my old body. Focusing on that, plus a few alterations to sooth my ego, I signaled to the old wizard that I was ready with a small burst of my magic.
Salazar raised his hands and began to chant in what sounded like old Norse. I didn't want to risk anything so I kept my eyes closed but I could tell that the runes around me had started to glow. Brighter and brighter till I could practically see through my own double eyelids. Unlike my botched first ritual there was no pain. I could tell it was working because I could actually feel myself getting larger.
The discomfort of having your flesh and bones reshape disappeared and the light show faded. I wearily peeked through a cracked eyelid and sighed in relief when I saw that my perspective had shifted. Spinning around I smiled broadly at Salazar who looked exhausted but was also smiling in return.
"How do you feel?" He asked in normal English.
"Great." My voice was hoarse, first time having vocal cords and all that.
"Good, let's get you dressed then."
I looked down and cursed, obviously I'd be naked. I had just been a snake not five minutes ago. With a casual wave of his wand Salazar conjured a cloak for me to wear. I gratefully threw on the cloak and walked off to where my room was hidden.
In preparation for the ritual he had given me my own room in the newly constructed Chamber of Secrets. Unfortunately it was still inside of the large effigy of his face but I could overlook that fact since my room was enchanted to hell with everything we could think of. Expansion, heating, impervious, lighting, we stacked as many enchantments on the room as possible. Salazar's personal quarters in the Chamber had the same enchantments, it was only fair that his familiar got the same luxuries.
I went through my multi compartment chest and found a set of clothes that didn't make me look like a medieval street urchin and quickly put them on. I looked over to my mirror and sighed. It had been a long ten years since I had last seen my own face. It was a bit different now obviously. Using Salazar's blood had practically made me his adopted son.
I had wavy black hair, and green eyes that matched my conjured flames. My face was more aristocratic compared to my old body. If anything I looked slightly like the main character of the series I had been forced into. The dark hair, green eyes. All I needed was goofy round glasses and a gnarly scar on my forehead and boom, Harry fucking Potter.
"Jörmungandr?" Salazar called.
"Can't you just call me Joe?"
"Why do you insist on shortening your name?"
"I already told you old man, it's too long."
"It's a mighty name, you should be proud of it."
I stepped back out to the main room of the Chamber where Slytherin was waiting for me. I grinned at the exasperated look on his face.
"I am proud of it. I'm named after the World Serpent."
"Then wh-
I sighed; "You said it yourself, names are a powerful thing. I'd rather not have everyone and their cousins know my full name."
"But Godric, Rowena, and Helga know your name."
"They're different, you trust them and therefore I trust them."
I knew the founders were generally good people. I had grown up around them after all. I wasn't sure if knowing my full name gave anyone actual power over me but I wasn't taking any risks. Not when I knew that Tom Riddle would have somehow controlled my canon counterpart.
"Fine, let us go greet them then. I am sure they will want to see your new form." Salazar sighed.
[Scene Break]
The other founders had been shocked to say the least. The ritual we used was obscure as shit and Salazar owned the only copy of its instructions. The convenience of it all still made me suspicious as hell but I didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.
More time passed and I eventually told Salazar the truth. About my old world, about who I used to be, and about the future of this world should things follow the same path.
Needless to say, Salazar was fucking pissed.
It wasn't everyday that you get told that your whole existence was just a fantasy world in another reality. After calming himself Salazar asked me all about what happened in the canon world and I obliged. I hated keeping secrets from the guy who practically re-raised me from birth.
On that note, Salazar officially adopted me through a blood adoption potion. I wasn't sure it would work at first seeing that I was actually a magical creature but it did and I became his heir.
I saw the irony in it of course, the heir of Slytherin being an actual snake but the way I saw it, I was a human being inside of a basilisk's body that regained my human form through an obscure ritual.
There was no wizarding bank yet, not for another few hundred years at least so the founders all kept their wealth in Hogwarts in hidden vaults known only to themselves. Contrary to popular belief there were no lordships. At least in the modern wizarding world. Thankfully the founders all had titles due to their connection with King Arthur and Merlin.
Being the founder of a school that taught the royal wizard to Camelot had its perks. Godric and Salazar were each made Grand Duke's and given a plot of land, Rowena and Helga also got titles though theirs were a step below both as regular Duchess with no plots of land. Women still weren't held in very high regard even if they were a part of the same group.
Not that it mattered in the end, not when they got with each other in the end. Helga with Godric, and Rowena with Salazar. So their titles basically merged and who outranked who didn't matter.
They kept their relationships secret, to the public and the school they were just very close friends. I didn't really see why since everyone practically thought they were boinking each other anyways.
Salazar eventually made me my own wand. Thirteen inches, elder wood, with a dual core of a phoenix feather from Rowena's familiar and my own venom. The wand was temperamental and only allowed me to use it. Salazar said it was a side effect of using my own venom. Not long after that Rowena gave birth to a daughter.
Helena Ravenclaw was a mirror image of her mother, even as a baby. I grew attached to my baby sisters embarrassingly fast. She often rode on my back when I took my basilisk form much to Rowena's chagrin.
Eventually I was shanghaied into attending school. It was really hard to refuse when your master/father and stepmother ran the damn place. At least they still taught practical skills that were actually useful and not generic magic that was almost embarrassing to think about.
I mean how the hell is knowing how to turn a porcupine into a pin cushion useful in any way. I get that it teaches you how to turn shit into other shit but turning a feather into a sword was so much more badass.
The pen/quill is mightier than the sword my ass. Try saying that when you get impaled by dozens of swords.
Magic in every sense was amazing… but wizards were highly monotonous and liked to stick with what they knew. Sole exceptions were the founders since they invented a bunch of spells. Salazar even came up with a spell out of sheer spite when Rowena suggested that he was a hoarder. Thus came the invention of the hammerspace spell.
It wasn't really a spell, more like a ritual that tied a personal pocket dimension to your soul. Salazar had gotten the couch treatment when Rowena found out that he had dabbled with soul magic out of spite. She then burned all his notes of the ritual. Not before the founders and I got the chance to perform it though. Having a magical storage space that held everything in stasis was very useful. Though I mostly used mine to keep snacks warm and to store the 'allowance' Salazar gave me.
I wasn't a genius by any means, that didn't mean I didn't come up with my own spells. I had a better understanding of magic than most due to my unique 'situation'. I had learned magic all by myself before Salazar took me under his wing. Salazar specialized mostly in healing and rituals so he didn't have much to teach me in terms of magic I could use to fight. That responsibility went to Godric who was not only a terrifying duelist but also a self proclaimed battle-maniac.
Rowena and Helga each taught me potions and charms. Despite not being as battle oriented as Godric the two were still taskmasters. After several years the founders eventually taught me everything they could and I 'graduated' from Hogwarts. Salazar had bred another Basilisk. Something about using his adopted son as a familiar being wrong was his reasoning. I couldn't be more happy, my old world and life all but forgotten.
The founders grew older while I stayed looking like I was in my mid twenties. Salazar told me that this was the result of my unique biology. I said it was bullshit magic and a higher being fucking with my life. Even when Helena, my adopted sister, had children of her own I remained the same.
When their time drew closer to an end the founders trusted me with the continued safety of Hogwarts. I didn't want to teach so I remained in the shadows watching over everyone. The second basilisk Salazar hatched was placed in the Chamber like in canon. Unlike in canon all four founders placed a powerful compulsion spell to protect that school while the basilisk was growing up. The result was a powerful guardian that only listened to Salazar or me and absolutely loathed the name Tom. That last bit was my own addition.
On his deathbed Salazar handed over his lordship and the remainder his wealth despite my protests. He told me he wanted to leave me something just like the rest of his children who had already gotten their share of the vast fortune. I've always hated goodbyes so my last words to the old man was;
"See you later dad."
Salazar Slytherin passed on with a smile on his face. Thankfully he didn't see the tears in my eyes or he would have mocked me. The mighty basilisk crying? Unbelievable!
Not knowing what to do with a lordship I let Helena run things in my place. I was still the head of the household but Helena was in charge until I could figure shit out. I packed my bags and went back to the vault in the Chamber. After greeting Freya, the other basilisk, I made my way down to Slytherin's personal vault. I stored all the chests full of gold and priceless artifacts in my hammerspace as well as the books and scrolls on different magics.
I had long ago decided that I was going to do my absolute best to not fuck with canon as much as I already had by existing. Instead I planned on helping out in the background so that the already fading knowledge I had about certain events stayed relevant.
'I really should have wrote shit down… fucking hindsight.'
Looking at my old room with a fond smile I locked all the doors before hiding everything with the Fidelius charm and Freya as the Secret Keeper. I really wasn't taking any chances with fuckface Tom finding anything I may have left behind. I looked at Freya and hissed out to her in parceltongue.
§Remember my orders sister.§
§Yes, yes… I know. Tell Tom that you said 'Fuck off'. Happy?§
I may be intending to not affecting too much stuff but like hell was I going to let Tom Riddle fuck around in what I consider my home.
§Yes, give him a smack to the face too for good measure.§
Freya huffed? I couldn't really tell with her being a snake. I grinned and patted her snout. She bumped my chest affectionately in return. I waved goodbye as I stepped out of the Chamber and into my next adventure.
[Scene Break]
When Gringotts was founded centuries later I outright refused to have anything to do with the dirty midgets. In my travels I had learned that gold was a suitable currency in any shape or form. During the same travels I had also gone to every continent and learned magic from everywhere I could.
The Native Americans tried to teach me skin changing, unfortunately originally being a basilisk prevented me from having an animal form. It was funny to think that my human form was technically my animagus form. Instead they taught me nature magic.
The Chinese specialized in fire magic to emulate the dragons they practically worshiped. Everywhere I went I learned unique magic that grew my spell repertoire. Ego aside I was pretty sure that I was the most knowledgeable in terms of sheer magic that I knew. I also knew that I wasn't the strongest in terms of power. That changed when I started learning the more esoteric magic and rituals that the Vikings had left hidden, buried within their barrows.
I also fought my first real battles there with hordes of undead. They weren't inferi, they were called Draugr by the locals. Unlike inferi these undead were difficult to kill. I had tried my killing gaze, killing curses, fire, poison, and even stabbing them through the head. Nothing seemed to work so eventually I resorted to blowing them the fuck up with a spell I invented that transfigured chunks of their body into highly reactive metals that blew up when exposed to air.
Sure the transfiguration was temporary, but it lasted long enough to react to the air. The spell also had a secondary effect of spreading to the closest enemy combatants. I was quite proud of this spell as it was the first spell I had invented after training with Godric.
My travels eventually led me to the Flamels just as they created their first philosopher's stone. I had already been around for hundreds of years at this point and rumors of 'crazy wizards dabbling with immortality' caught my attention.
I have spent a week with the Flamels now. Nicolas, or Nic as he insisted, had grown on me during that time. His wife,
Perenelle had taken it upon herself to treat me like a son despite the fact that I was much older than both of them. They had only recently discovered how to make a philosopher's stone after all.
"Bah! Like I'd ever trust goblins to hold my gold. Even if I can make it as easily as breathing with the Stone, those foul little-
"Nicolas! They're simply misunderstood, please tell him Joe." Perenelle looked to me for support.
Sadly I could give her none; "Unfortunately Nic is right, I don't trust them myself. Their greed and general scorn for wizards will lead to trouble. That and all the treaties they've made the government sign practically states that they can do whatever they want with what's in 'their' vaults."
"See, even he agrees with me!" Nicolas smirked triumphantly.
Perenelle sighed looking defeated, "Oh… I just hope things change one day."
"Maybe," I mused. "That day is a long ways away."
The conversation shifted to different topics afterwards. Perenelle served some stew moments later and the conversation turned to my apparent immortality.
"Honestly I'm not sure how it all works. I just stopped aging one day, though my basilisk form continues to grow. My human body hasn't changed since my twenty-fifth birthday."
"Unfortunate…" Nicolas hummed. "While we have yet to see the long term effects of immortality granted the Stone, I fear that it isn't truly making us immortal and merely slowing our aging to a crawl."
"What makes you say that?" I asked.
"Magic, magic grows with us as we age. Immortality would put a stop to that growth. Even now I feel my own magical power growing, even if it is a microscopic trickle."
"Still, this gives us plenty of time to accomplish everything we have in plan Nic." Perenelle added.
"I suppose…" The Frenchman conceded.
"I am curious though." The couple turned to me. "Would it be possible to modify the creation process of the stone so that it retains its ability to create gold, could it somehow be made to transmute things to other materials?"
A spark of curiosity appeared in Nicolas' eyes making Perenelle groan.
"Now you've done it, he won't leave that workshop of his until he finds out."
"Sorry." I smiled apologetically.
Turns out it was entirely possible to create a philosopher's stone that could only turn things into gold. Several years of experimentation, trial and error, and no shortage of explosive reactions, led to Nicolas and I making a set of stones that could transmute rocks to several different earth metals. Unfortunately it was just that. It seemed the stones were only capable of transmitting metals and not much else. Still, it had its uses and after a decade with the eccentric couple I left France with life long friends. Along with five stones, one normal stone and four special stones that turned rocks into silver, platinum, steel, and a yet to be identified metal that was deep gray in color. The Flamels had an identical set as well. I also told Nicolas that if he ever ran into some guy named Albus that he would be cautious around him.
While I had no doubt that Dumbledore wasn't a bad guy, I also knew that the old coot was manipulative as hell. I also wasn't taking any chances of Tom getting his hands on an actual stone so I left a fake Stone I rigged to explode should it be held by someone being possessed by a wraith. Nicolas got clear instructions to use that Stone instead of a real one should anyone ask to borrow it.
Time flew by much faster than I had anticipated, over the years I explored every corner of the globe taking in the sights. I eventually relented and opened a vault at Gringotts. The goblins were suspicious of me until I revealed my titles and vast wealth. Which in reality was hardly a fraction of what I had accumulated over the centuries. Having a rock that turned other rocks into precious metals was pretty much cheating though.
With a single deposit I had become the most 'respected' client of the bank. I still didn't store anything but gold though. Despite everything I still didn't trust goblins.
Over the centuries I had discovered new things about myself. Mainly due to the notes Salazar left about the ritual he had performed to give me my human body.
In his notes he had jotted down that there was a potential for evolution. I didn't understand what it actually meant until I was attacked by a dragon during a camping trip in Scotland. The Hebridean Black, I later found out, had set upon my campsite looking for an easy meal only to find a nearly fifty foot basilisk that was just as thick as itself.
I fought the black dragon for what felt like hours. Its hide was tough and difficult for my fangs to stab through. Its magic resistance also seemed to be able to shrug off my killing gaze. Eventually I managed to coil myself around the big fuck off bastard and strangled it to death. Seeing no use for its corpse I had taken to eating it chunk by chunk.
That's where it happened, after the fifth mouthful of flame roasted dragon I felt my insides shift violently and I nearly threw up. Doubling over I gasped for air and roared in pain. Only the sound that came out of my mouth was definitely not human, or basilisk for that matter. What came out of me was a draconic roar that shook the ground around me.
Falling to my hands and knees I cursed myself for being stupid and prayed to the asshole that sent me to this world to alleviate the pain. As if it was mocking me, my pain suddenly vanished. I shifted to my first form instinctually and groaned at how unbalanced I felt. Thankfully I had not neglected practicing magic without a focus. I was able to conjure a mirror to take a look at myself. Seeing the massive beast that looked back at me through the mirror I mentally groaned.
My basilisk form had changed. I wasn't even sure if I could even be considered a basilisk anymore. I was twice the size of the dragon that had attacked me. My scales before had been the typical shiny black, now they were a matte color that made me blend in with the darkness. My eyes were still their venomous green but now they had flecks of royal purple. Horns the size of horses jutted from my head. Instead of being draconic my wings had feathers that matched my scales.
I had been shifting back and forth between forms for centuries. Changing back into my human form was easy. Retaking my human form I sat down on the smoldering remains of my camp with a sigh.
'Great, now I'm some sort of retarded looking chimera.'
The mirror vanished and I looked around my ruined camp. Drawing my wand I flicked it sharply and repaired everything with a burst of magic. Slipping back into my tent I slumped into my bed and closed my eyes. My new problems could wait for another day. I closed my eyes and let myself drift into the world of dreams.