The next day I was again in the chamber, the real one. Reading through the letter once again ground for Salazar to pick his descendants to pass on his legacy, but magic herself interfering in this, it was unheard of for something like this to happen. It was like Jesus of magic, a one time event, something so rare that it would not happen for thousands of year.
Well this unbelievable event aside I leafed through the books on the shelves, these were handwritten. By Salazar Slytherin himself, there were his notes about different topics in the field of magic, some were original works of different authors none of them I knew about, maybe popular authors of that time. There were also some lose parchment filled with runic schemes, they looked like some kind of wards, not that I would know as I am not some ward expert.
I checked out some other books confirming my speculations about all of them being written in parsel script. After going through all of them I came across a text talking about parsel magic, I read it out. Parselmagic, or the Magic of the Tongue of Serpents, is an obscure, often misunderstood branch of arcane study, known only to a rare few who possess the inherited ability to speak Parseltongue. To the average wizard, Parseltongue is merely the capacity to converse with serpents, often feared or reviled for its association with Dark wizards. But true Parselmagic is something deeper—an intimate, ancient, and ritualistic discipline of magical practice rooted not in wandwork, but in the resonance between intent, speech, and the primordial forces of serpent-kind. Unlike other magical traditions that use Latin-based incantations or structured rituals, Parselmagic draws its strength from the elemental tones of Parseltongue itself, where each hissed syllable is a conduit of will and meaning. It is not simply "speaking" to snakes, but commanding or harmonizing with aspects of the world that serpents symbolize: transformation, rebirth, poison, concealment, and time.
The origins of Parselmagic are shrouded in antiquity, but among Parselmouths, there are tales of the First Speaker—a nameless figure who listened to the breath of the earth and heard serpents whisper truths into the soil. This ancestral wizard, it is said, did not learn magic from books or teachers, but from the snakes themselves, mimicking their sounds and gestures until the boundaries between species blurred. Early Parselmagic was entirely oral, passed through bloodlines rather than parchment. It was a living tradition of spellcraft that relied on vocal resonance, breath control, and primal intent, designed to function even without a wand. The very act of speaking Parseltongue alters the magical field around the speaker, creating harmonic vibrations that coax or command magical effects. This is why some Parselmouths, when properly trained, can cast spells with their voice alone in the presence of serpents or serpent-related symbols.
One of the primary fields of Parselmagic is Serpent Binding—the control or summoning of snakes through vocal incantation. This is not mere communication, but a magical contract of will, in which the speaker may bend the snake's instincts to serve a purpose: guarding a treasure, attacking a target, delivering a message, or performing ritual tasks. Advanced practitioners can even summon spiritual serpent-forms, conjured from ambient magic and bound through sacred hissed words. Another related art is Scale Warding, where serpent-pattern runes, when etched into surfaces and activated with Parseltongue, become powerful protective sigils, resisting physical and magical intrusion. These wards are nearly invisible to those who do not speak the language, and only respond to the hissed commands of a Parselmouth. Many ancient tombs and ruins, particularly those aligned with Slytherin's lineage, contain such wards—some of which have remained dormant for centuries, their meanings forgotten by all but the serpents that still dwell within.
Perhaps the most dangerous branch of Parselmagic is Veneficium—the art of working with poison, venom, and transmutation. Parselmouths are said to be able to extract venom with their breath alone, manipulate its properties by vocal tone, or even imbue their magic with serpentine venom metaphysically—causing poison to manifest within a target without any physical touch. This power, however, is perilous and rare, often tied to blood rituals and trance-like states that test the sanity of the speaker. In contrast, a more subtle application of Parselmagic is found in Molting, a form of magical shedding where the practitioner temporarily discards a part of their magical aura—freeing themselves from enchantments, tracking spells, or curses. It is a deeply meditative act that mimics the physical molting of a snake and requires both breath control and a sacred chant repeated in a tongue known only to blooded Parselmouths.
Beyond its applications in combat or stealth, Parselmagic also has profound spiritual and alchemical dimensions. In certain bloodlines, speaking Parseltongue is believed to grant access to hidden magical knowledge stored in serpent-kin—ancestral memories, some say, woven into the DNA of magical serpents across the globe. A skilled Parselmage may, through a binding ritual, gain visions of the past or glimpses of truth by linking their mind with a serpent's. Others have used Parseltongue in alchemy to stabilize volatile potions, particularly those involving serpentine ingredients such as basilisk venom, ashwinders, or boomslang skin. The rhythmic patterns of the language are said to resonate at just the right magical frequency to guide transformations in bubbling cauldrons. Some potion masters of Slytherin descent have even whispered ingredients to their brews, rather than adding them, altering their properties by voice alone.
An Intriguing subset of Parselmagic includes Envenomed Speech—words laced with emotional and magical toxins. A Parselmouth skilled in this art can project terror, madness, or pain into a target simply through whispered syllables. It is not a spell in the traditional sense but a manipulation of magical resonance and intent through voice, similar to the way a banshee's scream is innately magical. Such techniques are rare and often forbidden, even among Parselmages, for the psychological damage they inflict can be permanent. Conversely, there are tales of Parsel-healers who use soft hisses and melodic serpent tones to soothe wounds, extract poisons, or even lull cursed minds into peace. These disciplines suggest that Parselmagic, like serpents themselves, embodies both destruction and healing in equal measure.
Parselmagic is also deeply bound to lineage. Unlike most other magical disciplines, which can be taught freely to anyone with aptitude, Parselmagic demands not just fluency in the tongue but *belonging*—a soul attuned to the deeper harmonic pulses of serpents and the bloodline of Speakers. Those who attempt to mimic the language magically, such as through spell-enhanced translation, find it lifeless and inert. The magic lies not just in the words, but in the *will* behind them, in the way the speaker's magic coils through the syllables like a serpent through sand. It is why the ability cannot be easily faked, and why the art remains so secret. Even among Parselmouths, true Parselmages are exceedingly rare, as mastering the craft requires not just talent, but a deep understanding of serpent-lore, breathwork, spiritual focus, and hours of silent communion with snakes.
In the end, Parselmagic is not merely a skill—it is a worldview. It is magic shaped through the eyes of the serpent: precise, coiled, waiting, and ancient. It teaches patience and lethality in equal measure. To walk the path of the Parselmage is to embrace silence and sound, to know when to strike and when to shed one's past. It is the magic of those who listen to the earth's whisper and reply in hisses that echo beyond language. And though few in number, the Parselmages of the world carry within them a power unlike any other—not the flash and thunder of wandwork, but the slow, inevitable force of fangs beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to bare.
After this introduction there was a index about different aspects of parsel magic, I read it out and searched for the pages explaining serpent binding, I found it and went to those pages which read, Serpent Binding is one of the oldest and most foundational branches of Parselmagic, practiced exclusively by Parselmouths—those rare wizards and witches who possess the innate ability to speak Parseltongue, the language of serpents. It is far more than summoning or controlling snakes; it is the ancient art of creating a magical bond between speaker and serpent, wherein the will of the Parselmouth fuses with the essence of the snake through ritual, command, and resonance. The act of Serpent Binding is neither mere domination nor simple partnership. It is a sacred contract of power and purpose, built upon the laws of magical empathy, harmonic invocation, and the primal respect between speaker and beast.
At its core, Serpent Binding involves attuning oneself to the magical frequency of a serpent's mind. All magical creatures possess an aura—a signature of their consciousness and will—but serpents, due to their ancient magical lineage and symbolic connection to time, death, and transformation, possess unusually focused magical minds. A Parselmouth, using specific chants and breaths in Parseltongue, can slowly weave a tether of intent between their aura and that of a snake. This begins subtly, with the snake recognizing the speaker's voice and submitting to basic guidance. But true Serpent Binding goes far deeper, requiring the wizard to match the rhythms of their breath to the serpent's movements, to speak not merely in words, but in *resonance*—a magical hum carried within the voice, laced with intent, emotion, and magical force.
There are several stages to a complete Serpent Binding ritual. The first is Initiation, during which the Parselmouth establishes a connection by identifying the serpent's true name—not its species or physical label, but its soul-name, the symbolic identifier tied to its magical being. This name is not spoken; it is felt, revealed only when the wizard has entered the serpent's mental field through extended hissing dialogue and magical empathy. Discovering a serpent's true name is an act of deep listening, often involving meditative states, trancework, or the use of runic circles infused with serpent-based ingredients like shed skin or fangdust to heighten sensitivity.
The second stage Is Consent, which distinguishes Parselmagic from many other coercive magical arts. A serpent cannot be bound without a sliver of willing submission. This does not always mean the snake likes or even respects the wizard—it may be fear, curiosity, or an instinctual recognition of magical strength. But the thread of consent must be present, however faint. During this stage, the Parselmouth performs a series of hissing incantations known as the "Hymn of Slumbering Coils", a chant that calms and focuses the serpent's mind while opening a receptive channel between them. The language used here is not standard Parseltongue—it is an older, more primal dialect, passed down only in the bloodlines of ancient Speakers, often accompanied by mudras (ritual hand gestures) that trace the symbolic form of the serpent.
The third stage, Binding Proper, is a magical alignment of wills. The Parselmouth must project a clear magical intent—what they ask of the serpent—and infuse that intent into a sustained series of hisses, each one laced with controlled magical energy. This is where most novice Parselmouths fail. A weak or muddled intent results in a broken bond or, worse, an enraged serpent that interprets the attempt as an attack. A skilled practitioner will maintain unwavering focus, allowing the tether to wrap around both minds like a coiling vine of magic. Once the bond is established, the Parselmouth can feel the serpent's presence in the back of their mind—its emotional state, its hunger, its irritation, its satisfaction. This link can be temporary or long-term, depending on the strength of the ritual and the magical compatibility between the two.
Once bound, a serpent can be given complex commands in Parseltongue—guard this chamber, retrieve this object, follow this person, deliver this message—and it will obey with uncanny intelligence. The bond also allows for silent direction, wherein the Parselmouth can guide the serpent without audible words, projecting feelings and impressions instead. Advanced Parselmages have been known to bind multiple snakes to themselves, creating networks of mobile familiars that act as spies, assassins, or magical scouts. Some legendary practitioners—like Altair Black, whose work on beastcraft includes a section on controlled basilisk spirits—could bind phantom serpents of raw magic, constructs that mimicked real snakes but existed only through the will and voice of their master.
There are risks, however. An improperly bound serpent may turn on its binder, breaking the link violently and causing magical backlash. More dangerous still is the act of Sympathetic Binding, where the Parselmouth ties part of their own life force into the bond to create a deeper connection—this grants enhanced control and perception but also allows the serpent to feed on or influence the wizard's emotions and magic. Some Parselmages who attempted such deep bonds with magical serpents like Ashwinders or Runespoors went mad from the psychic strain. Basilisks, in particular, are considered incredibly dangerous to bind, as their consciousness is ancient, alien, and filled with the echoes of time and death. Only the most powerful Parselmouths dare attempt such a bond, and even then, it is rarely permanent.
There are variations of Serpent Binding as well. The Glyph Bind, for instance, uses enchanted runes—usually of Parseltongue origin—inscribed onto snake-skin or obsidian surfaces to serve as magical beacons. When activated with a hissed command, these glyphs summon the bound serpent to that location instantly. The Mirror Bind is a unique technique where a snake and its master are psychically mirrored; if one is harmed, the other feels pain, but they can also draw strength from one another. Some magical duellists in the 7th century trained with Mirror-Bound serpents, using the creatures to amplify their own magical energy in battle. The Dream Bind is rarer still—used to send the bound serpent into the dream world to spy on or influence the dreams of others, especially those with a magical affinity to serpents or fear thereof.
Serpent Binding is not a tool to be wielded lightly. It is an ancient, almost sacred practice—woven from the instincts of predator and prey, shaped by respect, danger, and shared silence. A Parselmouth who treats it like a mere spell or summoning ritual risks disaster, for serpents, both magical and mundane, do not forget betrayal or arrogance. They are ancient beings, closer to elemental spirits than to animals, and in binding them, one treads on a path as coiled and deadly as the creatures themselves. But to a true Parselmage—one who listens, speaks, and understands—Serpent Binding is not only a tool of power but a philosophy of connection, a reminder that the deepest magic comes not from force, but from resonance.
I rubbed my eyes and cast a mumbled tempus, the time was almost midnight, which said something about the interesting topics I have read today. But this was it for this week, I would have to return next week here to continue my studies in Parselmagic, at least this gave me something else to focus on for now. Placing all the text back to there places on the shelf, I went back to my dorm after a unnecessarily long walk through the silent castle.