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Chapter Text

Chapter One: Prologue

The cemetery of Little Hangleton had been long abandoned back to nature, for all the good it did. Even the flora had long since succumbed to the call of death. Amongst the crumbling tombstones and clammy fog he walked as if through an infinite maze. An impression of towering hedges pressed in against either side of him, suffocating, but not there if he turned his head to look. "Murderer…" The word was breathed out over a stale wind. "You killed me, Harry… Murderer."

He sped up, but milky eyes suddenly loomed from the darkness before him along with a flash of ashen yellow. "Why, Harry? Gloryhound. How could you?" The rest of Cedric's rotting face came sharply into view. "If you hadn't insisted that we both grab the Cup, I wouldn't be dead. It's your fault that my parents had to bury their only son. It's your fault… all your fault, Harry…" Rotting hands, fingers like claws, reached out to him through the encompassing darkness...

The black haired teen woke with a scream that became choked in his throat and that threatened to erupt. Self preservation kept him quiet, but tears gathered in his eyes that the gangly fourteen, nearly fifteen, year old boy could not suppress. He immediately curled up into a tight ball and let out several sobs. His body was shaking as he tried to forget the images that were replaying over and over in his head with the accusations that were being thrown at him.

He knew that these weren't normal nightmares for a young teen boy. No one, let alone one barely more than a child, should have to witness a murder in front of their eyes. But it wasn't just that. They hadn't even given him any sort of counseling. Any sane person would make sure that he was still alright after something so traumatizing, right? But no. He was locked up back at his relatives. That was certainly abuse too, even if they hadn't physically touched him. Besides that, not even his friends had messaged him besides the one letter that stated that Dumbledore had said it wasn't safe for letters. But he would be picked up sometime in the near future to go somewhere undisclosed. Of course, that was all that he knew, that they deigned to tell him. And, somehow, he felt that there was something very wrong. But then again this was the life of Harry Potter so why should he be any surprised at all? He was allowed to be a little melodramatic, he thought.

As Harry was just about to resign himself to another sleepless night, a heavy sort of feeling descended like the fog from his dream. Feeling uneasy, Harry climbed out of his bed and made his way over to his window. With a sense of foreboding, he carefully looked out from where he was still hidden by the curtain and what he saw made his stomach drop. Deatheaters. He could recognize them even at this distance, their presence just as distinctive as it had been in the graveyard. How did they find out where he lived? A spy maybe? The how didn't matter if he never made it out alive, however, so he had to find a way to get out quick. With few options at hand, Harry scrambled over to his desk to scribble something onto a scrap of parchment. He attached it to Hedwig's leg and brought her over to the thankfully already open window. "I dunno if this'll do any good, but take this to Dumbledore," he pleaded with his owl before releasing her carefully out the window, trying not to be noticed. She was flashy, but maybe an owl would be overlooked. She was smart enough to be careful and he was out of most other options.

As he looked down at the gathered group then, Harry bit his lip anxiously and grabbed for his wand. He didn't know how or why they were there, but Professor Dumbledore had mentioned something about blood wards protecting him. They were the whole reason he even lived here during the summer. If anyone meant him harm, they couldn't enter, right? But. Voldemort had used his blood in that ritual hadn't he? The bastard had mentioned something about his mother's protection being in his blood or something. Wouldn't that void to Voldemort the wards around the house? He hadn't seen the man yet, but that didn't mean that he wasn't there or wouldn't appear soon. Why had Dumbledore not thought of this? Every racing thought rooted Harry to his spot and drained blood from his face.

Then, as if almost on cue, Harry's scar flared with blinding pain as a tall figure materialized from the sea of cloaked figures. The macabre parody of a man that was Voldemort stood out as a beacon amongst the masses of his followers, his flesh ashy and gaunt. The reaper's smile on the man's face was enough to break the binding of Harry's feet and the boy didn't even stop to think as he bolted from the window and made his way into the hallway. As he turned away from the window, he never saw Voldemort draw his wand and use it to call forth the wards that surrounded the house. Inside, Harry did what he could to block the bedroom doors as he levitated heavy furniture in front of them. As much as he hated his relatives, he didn't want their deaths on his conscience. That was if he survived this. Though, he privately had to admit he just didn't want them getting in the way. If they came barreling in, then chances of survival fell to complete zero.

As he finished with the room blockades, Harry could hear his uncle start to make some angry grumbling but ignored it in favour of creeping down the stairs. He avoided the windows as well as he could, though still snuck a peek out into the dark when he could. It wasn't hard to realize that the house was completely surrounded. He had no idea what his next step would be. How long would it even take for Professor Dumbledore to realize he was in trouble? Shouldn't he have had been protections just in case? The headmaster was supposed to be a great wizard after all!

"Come out, come out, wee little Potter!" The shrill voice was a lightning bolt through what had been an oppressive silence, the first flash of lightning that broke the calm before the storm. It broke through his frenzied thoughts and the very sound of it made a shiver go down his spine. Harry tightened his hand around his wand as his gaze darted about frantically for any inspiration. What could he do? Going out there would be certain death, but would anyone even come in time? If not Professor Dumbledor, then he had used underage magic, so perhaps the Ministry would come? But, as if summoned by the very thought, there was a ripple of laughter through the gathered Deatheaters. The same taunting voice of before then rose above the rest. "Little Boy Potter is such a naughty child! Lookie here! 'Dear Mr Potter,'" her voice took on a nasally tone. "'We have received intelligence that you performed the Levitation Charm at twenty-three minutes past one this morning in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the household of a muggle family. The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence to destroy your wand. Hoping you are well and yours sincerely, Mafalda Hopkirk.' Oh, how precious! They'll find his wand in as many pieces as he'll be!"

Well, that certainly answered his question on whether or not anyone would be coming, Harry thought wildly as he tried to block out the roaring laughter from the Deatheaters. Of course they wouldn't come when they could instead send useless mail! Instead, they'd be along far after they'd be of any use! But mental rants about the incompetence of the Ministry would not do him any good. Harry knew Voldemort was taunting him and that was only making him panic more. He had to do something – anything! There had to be something he could do; he'd survived a murderous Tournament for Merlin's sake.

The Tournament. Well, in for a knut, in for a galleon. With little thought, Harry summoned his Firebolt. Maybe he could fly out? He'd survived worse odds before and he wasn't the youngest seeker in a century for nothing. A small chance was better than no chance at all. And he'd take possibly dying over definitely dying any day. He was a Gryffindor anyhow, right? They were known for their idiotic bravery. Though, this couldn't really be called bravery, but rather desperation to save his own hide no matter how reckless he was. But then, he'd never really been accused of being smart before. That was all Hermione.

With a deep breath and a clench of his jaw, Harry steeled himself for this reckless notion he was about to attempt with nothing but a wand in his hand. He grimly mounted his broom and took another deep breath, counting the beats of his hammering heart. Steady now, he could do this.

"Diffindo!" The spell exploded from his outstretched wand and took the door with it. An explosive mixture of wood, plaster, and brick rained down on the unsuspecting Deatheaters. Harry did not waste even a moment as he shielded his face and flew out through the debris. Veering sharply upward, he spiraled like a rocket as he sought his bearings. But the Deatheaters had not been a powerful army because they were slow and stupid. Curses and hexes of varying acidic hues whizzed past him through sheer dumb luck, though their spellcasters recovering quickly.

The dream of escape fled in a moment as Harry impacted against the wards that he hadn't known Voldemort had manipulated. He became suspended in midair as numerous curses slammed into his suddenly prone back and fissures of light like shattering glass spread a web across the ward's dome from his point of contact. Pain that could drive a man to insanity arched and contorted Harry's back, a voiceless scream choked in his throat. The fizzling air around him seemed to almost physically expand, an unearthly whine building until there was a moment of complete stillness that lasted only half a heartbeat. In the next, the ward imploded sending Deatheaters disapparating to flee the shockwave.

The last Harry knew was a blinding pain, a relief to the previous agony, that flashed like lightning across his face originating from his scar.

((Page Break))

The first thing he perceived when he came back to awareness was the pain. Every last bit of him ached, though perhaps his head most of all. He didn't know how long he had been out, but all he knew was that he wanted to go back to the soothing darkness. It didn't hurt there. Still, he found himself instead opening his eyes to try to figure out where he was. And, of course, he didn't recognize the place at all. The boy slowly tried to rise up off of the ground and the pallet he'd been laid out on even as he attempted to push down the welling panic. But before he could get far, a voice interrupted him. "I would not do that if I were you."

It was the voice of a young adolescent, maybe around the same age as him. As he looked over quickly, the boy noticed that the stranger had bright red hair and amused light green eyes. Though they could have been of similar ages, he thought that perhaps the other was a little taller and had the beginnings of lean muscle. But all that he only gave a passing glance at. What really grabbed his attention was the language that the boy spoke as he didn't understand a word of it.

"You have been asleep for quite some time. You should not be getting up. That wound will be needing tending again, too." The other boy was smiling as he walked further into the round stone hut from the doorway he had entered from, a bundle of wood in his arms. He crouched down to add some of it to the center fire. "What happened to you? I found you in a field, the ground all ash around you."

With little other choice, and no strength otherwise, the dark haired boy settled back down onto the straw pallet. "I… I cannot understand you," he finally stuttered out, making the other boy look at him in surprise.

"What? I do not understand you." The boy looked puzzled, obviously having the same problem that he was. "You cannot speak my tongue? Are you not from around here, then?" He then suddenly rolled his eyes and lightly smacked his forehead as the black haired teen watched in bemusement. "Ah, that was not a smart thing to ask. Of course you do not speak my tongue. It is not hard to miss." The boy looked irritated for a moment, crossing his arms. Finally, he looked back over. "Can you tell me your name?" He then stopped and huffed softly, a flash of irritation in his eyes that was not directed at the dark haired stranger. "Of course not. What am I thinking?" The boy then pointed towards himself. "Godric Gryffindor. My name is Godric Gryffindor." He then looked at the other boy as he obviously waited for a response.

The boy on the bed looked a touch bit panicked while he decided that the other boy spoke too much for the language barrier between them. And now he was looking at him as if he expected a response. The other boy had rattled off so many things, so what on earth could he have said? But on a hunch, and feeling unsure, he pointed towards the other. "Godric… Gryffindor?" He repeated that part slowly and received a bright smile in reward.

The red haired boy pointed to himself again. "Godric." He then paused and pointed towards that other. "Who are you?" The boy looked entirely too proud of himself, but he concentrated on trying to figure out the question.

The answer was simple enough, but he pointed towards himself with a frown. If the boy was Godric then he was asking now for a name. His name was… A cold stone of panic dropped into his stomach as he tried to quell the panic that rose within him once more. He ignored the confused and worried look that was thrown at him from Godric as he desperately searched through the tattered remnants of his memory. For something that should have been simple, he found himself coming up empty.

He was just trying to figure out how to relay his problem to the other boy when a half formed memory flitted through his mind. It was like trying to catch water in one's cupped hands and was gone too quickly to be properly analyzed, but a name came attached to the fleeting memory. He was there with one – two? – others and they were talking about something. He couldn't remember what, but that name seemed important. Very important. Perhaps it was his? Still feeling uncertain, but with nothing else to go on, he pointed towards himself again. "Salazar… Salazar Slytherin." He received another bright smile in return and that was that.

But it was only a few days later that another problem finally came to a head.

"You know, this not knowing the same speech situation that we have gets rather irritating." The annoyed tone to the boy's voice made Salazar roll his eyes. He thought he knew the gist of what the other was talking about, but it was certainly rather frustrating to not be able to communicate properly. They could only get so far with over exaggerated gestures after all. In conclusion, he was going to have to learn the other's language. Which might take some time, but he understood a few things after the few days he had been spending with the other boy and the result would be well worth it. Godric always seemed to ramble on about things and Salazar could never make heads or tails of it all. Sometimes he wondered if Godric either liked to hear himself talk, or if he was hoping that Salazar would just one day suddenly figure out how to speak the language. It certainly hadn't worked so far and he was at his wit's end. Godric certainly seemed to be as well, if his tone was anything to go by. Not that he had made any attempts to rectify the situation.

But speaking of the other boy. Salazar didn't know much about Godric. All he knew was that the boy lived there in the abandoned little stone hut in a half burnt village near the sea. Godric had made himself a cozy little living space in a village that was devoid of all other people. Most of it looked to have been burned down and part of him wondered what had happened to the people. Slaughtered? But then, where were the bodies? Perhaps the survivors buried their dead and then moved on? And he didn't know why Godric was there on his own, or if he had been a survivor of whatever had happened here. He certainly had no way to ask anyways. Godric didn't seem to mind being out here, he thought. And since he didn't know anything about his own past, he also didn't know how he had come to be in this place or if he had any family in the world. For now, he could stick with the other boy. He did enjoy his company, besides. They just had to overcome the language barrier and they weren't getting anywhere fast like this.

With a sigh, Salazar picked up an apple and turned to Godric. He was tired of the ranting from Godric that he couldn't understand. Really, why hadn't the boy thought of this earlier instead of just obviously complaining about it? Why hadn't he tried this earlier? He'd done himself no good by moping about until now. He wouldn't do that again.

Giving Godric a stern look, Salazar pointed at the apple that he was holding in his hand. Once he had Godric's attention, he raised an eyebrow and gestured again. He was expecting to get a name for it, if the silly boy actually understood what he was trying to get at. Of course, all he got in response was a blank look from the redheaded boy. With an exasperated sigh, Salazar rolled his eyes. "What?" He had probably butchered the pronunciation, but it was one of the few words that he knew, given how many times it had come up in their rather one-sided conversations.

At the word from Salazar though, Godric suddenly seemed to brighten up and understand. "You want me to teach you!" He grinned, looking fully proud of the deduction. It made Salazar sigh again, but a fond smile teased the edge of his lips. No matter how hard it was for the two of them to communicate, he found that he enjoyed the other boy's presence. He was just too adorable to ignore really, but that wasn't something to ponder over now while he was finally getting his language lessons. He wasn't sure what Godric had said, but the boy seemed to understand finally so they could get this underway.

Proving him right, Godric grabbed the apple and pointed at it with a flourish. "Apple." In response, Salazar rolled his eyes but carefully repeated the word. Godric nodded approvingly and the lessons took off. Salazar forced Godric to give him the names of various things, pointing to one thing after another. He would go over them again and again until Godric would indicate that he had gotten them right. Godric got bored of the process quickly, but could not say no to Salazar who seemed to hunger for the knowledge to learn more. Necessity made him learn quickly. Besides, there wasn't much else he could do while he healed from whatever accident had robbed him of his memories and had scarred his face. Godric had said he was lucky he hadn't lost his eye.

Time passed quickly like that and, in the end, Salazar was very thankful that he was such a quick study. He still didn't have any memories of before he had woken up in Godric's hut, but he could remember other things. It seemed to be an instinctive thing, he was sure. He knew how to be a person, but everything that made him who he was… was gone. Who was to say that he was like he had been before? He really tried not to dwell on it because maybe now he had a chance of being a better person. At least one advantage of not having any memories, and being stuck in a place where no one spoke his original language, helped him learn how to speak Godric's tongue quickly. Of course, he was still learning and Godric took great enjoyment in correcting him, but he could finally have a decent conversation with the other boy. Said boy who he still didn't know much about. Though would it matter either way, he didn't know. Knowing where Godric came from might not make much sense to him with his memory the way it was.

Still, Salazar had the feeling that Godric was hiding something from him. But for that moment, he said nothing as there wasn't likely anything good that would come from it. Why should he change what they had now? It worked for both of them. So instead of trying to ask about Godric's own mysterious past, he had gotten the other boy to start teaching him about the land they lived in. He wanted to know everything. His lack of memories opened up a thirst for learning and knowledge, another positive side effect in Salazar's mind. Which did remind him of something he wanted to ask the other boy.

"Godric," Salazar called out as he pulled on a tunic. He had scavenged for wearable clothing in the crumbling stone huts of the abandoned village and had managed to find a few wearable tunics, a pair of trousers, shoes, and a cloak. Most things had been destroyed or were too ratty for use. One such ratty tunic he had used for wrappings on his feet and over his wrists to make his clothing more manageable. A length of rope finished off the outfit as a belt. Slipping on his well worn shoes then, he went to go find his friend. He was nowhere to be found in the nearby burnt out huts. Confused, Salazar continued to work his way outward as he looked through the ramshackle buildings. He hadn't thought that Godric had said he'd be wandering off anywhere.

As he searched, two strong arms wrapped around him suddenly from the shadows of a half collapsed dwelling. A filthy hand clamped over his mouth and foul smelling breath washed over his ear. "Be still, boy." The voice was rough and there was no trace of the rather fine way of speaking that Godric had. It suddenly made him suspicious of Godric's origins again in a small part of his mind. But there wasn't time to think of such things, so he quickly stopped moving. His body may have gone still, but there was a calculating look in his eyes that warred with the fear he felt. Who was the man? Where had he come from? What was it that he wanted? A bandit of some sort perhaps? Whoever the man was, Salazar wondered how he was to get out of the man's grasp. And was Godric okay? Was the bandit the reason why he couldn't find the other boy?

But speak of the devil and he shall appear. "Hey! You get away from him, you filthy thief!" Godric's voice rang out and interrupted Salazar's thoughts. It made Salazar want to groan in annoyance no matter how pleased he was to know that Godric was safe… for now. Stupid, brash Gryffindor. Grunting softly as the grip on him tightened, Salazar's eyes then went wide as cold metal pressed into his throat. He thought he knew what that was and he rather hoped that Godric wouldn't do anything stupid. But of course, his friend being who he was, took a step forward. "Hey! I said get away from him!" The knife only pressed harder against his throat and Salazar started to panic. This was not how he wanted to die! He would come back to haunt Godric the rest of his life if the boy caused his end!

But as his panic rose, a sort of heaviness grew in the air like the heat of a humid summer's day. When the knife at his throat suddenly drew a line of blood, the pressure exploded outwards in reaction. The man who held him captive was thrown backwards and through an already crumbling wall. The unstable house collapsed upon him and buried him in debris. Salazar could only look at the building in surprise, a hand going to his injured throat as he turned to look at the settling stones. What had that been? He looked down at his hand then, almost expecting it to look different.

He did not know what he expected as he turned back to Godric, though he feared that ridicule or suspicion were both likely. However, the boy was gaping at him in a small amount of awe. Salazar had just started to feel uncomfortable when the boy suddenly burst out, "You are a wizard, too! I thought you were just a mundane." He then smiled brightly and walked over to his friend. "That was a simply amazing piece of magic, Sal!"

"Do not call me that ridiculous nickname," Salazar huffed back automatically, his mind already abuzz with the new developments. Magic. He knew it as the truth as sure as he knew that the sky was blue. Whatever had stolen his mind had not stolen his magic. But to have forgotten such a piece of himself! Praise be to Godric's gods that the knowledge had been returned to him. And to find that Godric had magic as well! However, that brought up an interesting point. Salazar's eyes narrowed and he put his hands on his hips. "Explain. Now," he said sharply, making Godric scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. Salazar could not fault the other boy for hiding such knowledge, but he still wanted answers.

"If you want, Sal… but we should probably move on from here." The boy looked around a little sadly and just a tad nervously. "I mean… who knows how many more are out there." He motioned towards the caved in house where the bandit had been thrown into. Godric really did not want to hang around to find out if he had friends around. So, he quickly led the way back to their little hut once Salazar agreed that they shouldn't linger. There, both boys gathered up what food they could in some makeshift packs. They had little else to take with them so Godric quietly led his friend out of the hut and out of the small grouping of buildings. Running into the nearby forest, they were soon on their way in no particular direction. No one seemed to be following them so it was there that Salazar demanded once more for Godric to tell him his story. Finally, and grudgingly, Godric did.

He licked his lips nervously before he took a deep breath and then he spoke, "I come from a noble family of sorts, as I am sure you have figured out by now." Salazar nodded curtly in response as he carefully found his footing through the woods as they walked. Godric's speech and mannerisms were too proper for what he had had a feeling a poor lad would otherwise be like. He waited impatiently for Godric to continue but Godric nibbled on his lower lip for a few moments before continuing. He sighed out then. "My parents are both mundane. But I started showing signs of magic when I was very young. A local man in the village noticed and offered to teach me magic in secret," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, not explaining how the older wizard had found out. "A few weeks before I found you, I took a trip with my parents to visit my mother's family. However, while we were traveling we were set upon by bandits." A scowl passed over Godric's face. "I used magic to protect myself as I had no other way but, in the end, I was banished. My parents disowned me and threw me out." The boy didn't look pleased and perhaps a bit saddened. Salazar could imagine it was from the betrayal of his parents. Magic was a gift to be proud to have, but if there was one truth that he felt down to his bones it was that not everyone took kindly to the abnormal. Where he learned this lesson was something he might never know, but it was ingrained deep.

He was broken from his thoughts as Godric continued to speak. "If it was not for the magic I had been taught, I do not think that I would have survived this long. Nobles are not exactly known for being able to survive long in the wilderness," Godric snorted, making a joke at his own expense.

Salazar didn't respond, not knowing what to say. What could he say anyways? But finally, the black haired boy let out a breath. "If it is any consolation… if it had never happened, I doubt that you would have met me. We would have never become good friends. You would not have been there to save my life." In response, he got a small smile. They had each other. The past was past as far as Salazar was concerned. It was not like he could remember his own anyways, so they could put such things behind them. Instead they could look to the future and the many things that the world had to offer them. Salazar in particular was rather excited to learn what sorts of magic there was available for them to learn now that they had ventured out into the unknown world.

In that way, time continued to march onwards. It had been a couple of years now since the two had met. With no real home to return to for either of them, at least that Salazar could still not remember, they had spent the time travelling. Ever since they had left that ruined little village, they had never stopped moving for long. For it was during their travels that they often came across various wizard kind that would agree to teach them. They continued to travel together as they moved from village to village with no real destination in mind. They picked up knowledge in secret corners, but hit a stroke of luck when they ran across an eccentric Master of magic studies who agreed to teach them for as long as they headed in the same direction. Master Wolfhelm had immediately chastised them for their lack of magical tools, wands in particular. Salazar had been annoyed by that scolding as it was of no real fault of their own, but had conceded when Wolfhelm had helped them construct their wands.

While wandless magic was definitely useful, it was much easier to channel more powerful spells with a wand as a focus. A wand had the ability to channel more power with more accuracy. And, even though the same results could be done through wandless magic, one would need a great deal of concentration and double the time of a spell with a wand. Often times, they needed the use of rituals and other materials depending on the strength of the spell that was to be performed. Wandless magic was not practical for dueling unless one wanted to throw around mainly stunners and disarming spells. Wands were much more practical and handmade ones were more attuned to their wielder. They were lucky Wolfhelm had the knowledge to teach them.

So once they had their wands, the young men - now roughly sixteen by estimation on both boy's counts - had soaked up every bit of knowledge they could find. Even before this point, Salazar had begun to amass a sizeable library of scrolls and even a few precious books. He often kept these all hidden in a pouch that he had shrunk to fit on a cord around his neck. He had started his own journals as well, taking notes and making observations. They had been eager to put this knowledge to new use now that they had proper wands. However, one particular ailment became a glaring problem not long after the two young men began to cross wands.

As he was forced to dodge to the side, Salazar cursed as his vision suddenly became blurry. "Not again!" He raged, feeling irritable enough to yell.

Across from him, Godric grimaced before he lowered his new wand. "Sal," he complained, "this is the third time you have lost those." He was not about to take advantage of his friend's near blindness in a simple duel like this. They were both just getting used to their wands and new spells. Godric did not want to accidentally hurt his friend since they both were not the best duelers yet. He knew that in a real duel he would have to take advantage of anything that he could, but this was different. They could be more ruthless to each other once they really knew what they were doing, Godric decided. "You should really do something about those. Even with anti-summoning charms and some sticking charms, you still manage to lose them or somehow break them."

Salazar gave his friend an angry scowl. "Do you think that I do not know that?" He snapped back, his eyes unfocused and directed just over Godric's shoulder.

As much as it was to the red haired teen's amusement, he wisely chose not to comment on it as he walked over to where the man's strange vision correctors had dropped. Picking them up, Godric cleaned them and fixed the cracked glass quietly before he handed them over to Salazar. "I heard there was a potion that could fix your eyesight," he ventured with a light air. "Maybe we can ask Master Wolfhelm about it."

Taking the contraption with a grumble, Salazar pulled them on and breathed a sigh of relief when his vision cleared. He then turned his eyes towards Godric. "A potion you say?" He spoke thoughtfully as he glanced over to their mentor's tent. Most of the wizards they had come across really did not know their potions. Most seemed to just not have the patience for it, or the knowledge of herbs that were necessary. Salazar himself knew very little about potions as well. There was some sort of lingering resentment towards the subject that he did not understand, but it did not damper his curiosity. What sort of things could be done with potions? He knew that Master Wolfhelm had some knowledge of the subject as it had been instrumental in the construction of their wands. And if it really would cure his eyesight, how could he pass up such an opportunity? Decided, Salazar tucked his wand away. "Yes. I think I will look into that. It is a perfect opportunity to learn more.”

Godric gave him a look of amusement before he tucked his wand safely away in the holster at his wrist. They had both gotten one as a present from Wolfhelm when they had successfully completed their wands. "Well, let us head back to camp then. Master Wolfhelm was talking about moving on again." He was eager about getting his friend's eyes fixed. They could really concentrate on their dueling then and they would not have to worry about Salazar losing his vision.

They went to go find their mentor and, as soon as Salazar tried to vaguely go about asking how the potion was made without trying to sound too eager about it, Wolfhelm had exuberantly told him that he had been waiting ages for Salazar to come to him and ask. Salazar had been prepared to hex Godric as the man struggled to breathe through his laughter in the corner of the tent. Apparently he had to work on his subtlety. But their eccentric master had the knowledge that Salazar needed. So he sucked it up and let the man teach him. Wolfhelm really was all too eager to teach him too, including a lesson on why certain ingredients were used and why they had to be prepared the way they were. That had been immediately followed by his refusal to let Salazar brew potions unsupervised. The young man had started a few experiments that had not ended well, as he had wanted to see what happened when he had added certain ingredients together. He had been unable to control his curiosity, but it had been an important lesson. He was just lucky it had not ended in disaster.

In the end, Wolfhelm gave Salazar a scroll he had compiled on ingredients and techniques before he forbade him to experiment until he had better knowledge of the ingredients he was to work with. He did not want the teen to accidentally blow himself up. He had spent too much valuable time teaching them and he did not want it to go to waste. Or so he said. So with Salazar forbidden from his experiments for now, Wolfhelm was able to guide the teen through the makings of the potion.

It was after the week long brewing process that found them all gathered in the tent so Salazar could finally use the potion. Wolfhelm gave his student a searching look. "So you do understand what will happen once I place a drop of the potion in your eyes, yes?" Salazar was currently lying on his transfigured bed with Wolfhelm sitting in a rickety chair next to him. He had a small wood hewn bowl in his hands and a little spoon. Godric was standing nearby, a grim look on his face.

Salazar nodded his head stiffly as he stared at the cloth ceiling with his unfocused gaze. "Yes, sir. Once you put the potion in my eyes, you will need to seal my eyelids shut so the potion can work. They will be sealed for three days before you will unseal them," he repeated what had been told to him several times during the brewing process over the course of the week. Salazar was still determined to do this.

So Wolfhelm carefully dropped some of the potion into the young man's eyes before he quickly instructed him to close them. Once that was done, he tapped Salazar's eyelids with the tip of his wand. "Are you comfortable?" He asked as he watched for any signs of an unusual reaction. Salazar only grumbled as his hands twitched with refraining from the obvious urge to rub at his eyes. Wolfhelm chuckled as he stood up. "Well, I shall leave you two boys alone. I will go dispose of the leftover potion." And with that, he was gone.

Godric walked over to his friend and sat down on the chair that Wolfhelm had vacated. He then reached out and took his friend's hand. "How does it feel?" He asked curiously. He had been a little worried that it would not work, but Salazar had been so determined and he knew that Wolfhelm would not administer a potion he thought would hurt Salazar. Besides, he had been the one to suggest the potion in the first place to his friend.

Salazar quickly slapped Godric's hand away and sat up. "I feel fine," he told his friend stiffly as he stood up. "And you know I despise being coddled like that. I am neither sick nor dying. You do not have to act like I am." Taking a deep breath then, he walked towards the entrance of the tent. "I just have to survive three days of this. It will be fine. You worry too much."

Godric gave a long sigh and a roll of his eyes. "And you are too proud," he muttered as he stood up and grabbed the back of his friend's tunic before he could trip over the trunk that rested just to the side of the tent flap. He steered him in the right direction before he left after Salazar. It was going to be a long three days. But, at the end of it, Salazar should never have to use the strange vision correctors ever again. So he was not going to complain. Too much.

Not long after Salazar's eyes were corrected, they parted ways with Master Wolfhelm once more. The man had decided to take a more permanent residence in a village to hawk his remedies, but the two young men wanted to keep traveling. They had found themselves traveling northward and eventually came to the coasts. They followed the path further northward, the air heavy with the salt of the sea. Salazar found it somehow comforting, though they eventually decided to travel eastward again. They spent an afternoon of rest amidst of copse of trees and took the opportunity of privacy it provided to test their growing skills against each other.

"Expulse!"

Salazar cursed as he ducked under the maroon spell that streamed towards him with a faint whistle. He flicked his wand sharply while he hissed a spell beneath his breath. The pale blue spell crackled on its swift course towards Godric. Immediately, the other teen circled his wand quickly to bring up a shimmering shield. However, the strength behind Salazar's spell was too strong for Godric's shield. The blue spell barely slowed down as it passed through the shield, spiderweb cracks bursting from the impact point before shattering into nothing. The hex slammed into Godric's chest and sent the teen flying backwards, where he crashed into a nearby tree trunk. Only a swift cast of a cushioning charm kept him from severe injury. The red haired wizard grumbled to himself as he stood up and brushed off his tunic. Godric then raised both of his hands while he stated sourly, "I surrender." His sour look quickly turned into a scowl at the smirk that Salazar had on his lips as he twirled Godric’s wand in his fingers.

"Seems I win again, Godric," Salazar drawled, a smirk on his lips. His dark green eyes glinted in amusement as he looked over at his friend. He then threw the teen his wand before brushing off himself and picking up his pack. "There is a village not that much further along the road, if my calculations are correct. Instead of staying here, we should be there by nightfall and can find an inn. There we can stay the night instead of sleeping on the dirt road again. I would rather not listen to your complaining again about how the rocks are digging into your delicate back," he practically purred. He could never pass up the chance to tease Godric. And the man really could give back as good as he got, so it made things all the more entertaining.

"We can decide what to do from there, if it agrees with you." However, instead of a retort back, Salazar only received a curt nod in reply. Rolling his eyes in exasperation at Godric's brooding, he shot a quick cheering charm towards the other male. He hid another smirk as it hit the man in the back, but could not hold back a snort as Godric twitched as if he had been briefly tickled. "Oh, stop your moping, will you? You have bested me many times in a duel. It is only fair that I should best you for once."

Godric huffed and shouldered his own pack, making a big show of being disgruntled. "Yes, but I have been losing much more frequently as of late.” He paused then. “And that cheering charm was entirely unnecessary," he tried to grumble but it came out with a giggle at the end. He quickly clamped his mouth shut as Salazar only chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. As he pouted in response, Godric started off towards the road again. Salazar snorted and followed after him, waving their privacy ward away before tucking away his wand.

With Godric in a snit, they walked along in silence for awhile. That suited Salazar just fine, taking the time to look around them and just enjoy the countryside. But as they walked along the road, Salazar spied smoke in the distance. He frowned as he studied the curling ribbons and decided that it was much too dark for normal stove fire. Concerned, he motioned towards the area to get Godric's attention. He didn't have to say anything before Godric nodded grimly and apparated away without much thought.

Typical, Salazar thought with a roll of his eyes and followed after him. Reckless Gryffindor, going in without thinking. At least the man had enough sense to apparate on the edge of town rather than inside where Salazar joined him. Someone had to keep Godric out of trouble after all.

Not wanting to be seen and since Godric did not look like he was going to make any move to do anything, Salazar cast a swift spell to cloak them from view. It would make eyes slide right over them, dismissing them. Salazar looked around grimly then, making observations. "Bandits," he finally spoke, distaste evident in his tone. Ever since the run in with the man those several years ago, he had a disdain for dirty varmints. Perhaps too it could have been unrest between warring noblemen, this village caught in the crosshairs. "There is not much that we can do, Godric," he said at last with a frown as he looked out over the burning village. If there were any survivors, they were likely long gone. But before he could say anything more to persuade his friend into moving from the village, there was a sudden sharp scream. Godric was off in that direction before Salazar could stop him. Groaning in exasperation about how predictable Godric was, Salazar took off after his friend.

When Salazar rounded the corner, he found Godric defending a cowering young woman who had her back pressed against the crumbling wall behind her. She was covered in dirt and had tear tracks down her face while her blond hair had turned brown with mud. Her pale blue eyes, a pretty colour like the sky, stood out against her pale face and were glittering with tears. Godric had somehow managed to get in front of her and was facing off against two men. The men were large in stature and almost like giants to Salazar's still small form. They only looked amused that a young man barely out of boyhood was trying to get in their way. They both dived at Godric and Salazar felt a sense of hopelessness flood him. Godric couldn't defend himself against two mundane men. Not like that at least. And he was too far away for him to be able to help his only friend. Without stopping to think, and acting on a hopeless wish to do anything to save his friend, Salazar's wand was out and he had it pointed towards one of the men in padded armour. "Avada Kedavra!" He did not know what deep corner of his mind that the spell had come from, the very words making him feel dirty.

A dark, yet sickly, green light shot out of his wand and slammed into the nearest man. Immediately, the man stiffened and fell to the ground. He lay unmoving with the sort of stillness that only the dead could achieve. With the distraction, Godric was able to knock out the remaining man. But Salazar did not even notice, his wand clutched loosely in his trembling hand as he stared unseeing at the ground before him.

He hadn't thought… it just came to mind… he hadn't known what it would do… he had just killed a man! Salazar's eyes filled with horror as he realized what he had done. He knew that the times didn't allow for a soft mind, but he had never killed a man before. At least not like this. This was deliberate, not an accident. It was too much to take as his vision swam. Suddenly then, the young woman that they had protected was standing in front of him. She seemed to sense the turmoil he was in and reached up to place her hands against his cheeks. "Thank you. You have saved my life," she spoke gently, a small smile on her lips. She still looked frightened, but none of that terror was directed towards him. Salazar immediately felt his shoulders relax.

"I am Salazar." He whispered then, his voice cracking briefly. "Salazar Slytherin."

The young girl smiled at him and pulled her hands back. "Thank you, Salazar Slytherin." She said again before looking over to Godric. "And thank you. My name is Helga Hufflepuff."

With nowhere else to go, Helga came with them. Salazar had known the logic behind this, but it still irked him that there was now someone new when it had always been just him and Godric. "You know, I still do not see why you would want to come along with us," Salazar remarked dryly as he twisted in his seat to look over at the only female of their group. Helga gave the teen a placating smile and adjusted her skirt.

"I do not have anywhere else to go, Master Slytherin," she cooed softly making Salazar cringe and then look away with a scowl. "Besides… Would you leave a woman defenseless after an attack such as that?" She inquired with a gentle smile on her lips. But the look didn't fool Salazar, even though he wasn't looking in her direction. Helga was a strange woman. She was much different than the women of the time that Salazar had come to know. She also had a noble air about her, something she had apparently picked up after having been a servant in some lord's castle for a time. Or so she said. He wasn't quite sure he should believe her or not. Then there was the fact that she was a witch. Not a much trained one, but a witch nonetheless. Godric, of course, had taken it upon himself to teach the only female of their small group. Salazar had not participated in these lessons, not wanting to take away the time he had devoted to his own studying. Although, Salazar did have to admit that the girl was fairly talented when it came to herbs. Perhaps, he could allow her to take a look at the journal he was writing on magical herbs and plants. She just might have some useful input.

With a sigh though, the young man shook his head clear of his thoughts and looked back down along the path. After saving Helga, they had taken three abandoned horses from the village and had taken off. Salazar had thought that Helga's travelling with them would only last a few days, or until they had come across a village. But those days had passed and it found Helga still traveling with them. It didn't seem like the girl would be leaving anytime soon either.

After he spotted a clearing, Salazar reined in his horse and slid off the creature's back. He made his way towards the small stream that wound its way through the trees and crouched down to wet his hands. "We should rest here for a little while." He said as he glanced over to Godric. The other male merely shrugged and quickly swung off of his horse's back. Salazar had to scowl a little at his friend's grace in how he did it. It was obvious that Godric had ridden horses plenty of times before. Salazar didn't know if he had ever done it, and if he had… well all that knowledge was long gone. He had to learn how to ride a horse the hard way and his bottom was still sore from the experience, even with a cushioning charm. Still, he kept his complaints to himself. Horses were valuable and certainly made their traveling easier, even if it was at the expense of his bottom.

"You know, Salazar… if you were more accepting and less grumpy, I might be more inclined to share my scrolls with you," Helga's suddenly spoke as the the young man in question had scooped up some water from the stream to drink. He choked softly as he was startled out of his thoughts before he turned to look at the young girl with slightly reddened cheeks. He quickly cleared his throat and turned his head away.

"Scrolls? What do you mean, Helga?" He asked carefully, trying not to appear too eager. He could never pass up the chance to learn more. He glanced back at Helga secretly, gauging her expression.

The young girl had gained a triumphant look on her face much to his chagrin. The witch just couldn't hide her emotions at all, wearing them for all to see. "My family were just simple commoners." She passed off, but there was a smug tilt to her voice that had Salazar narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Helga quickly giggled and then continued to speak. "But I also come from a wizarding pureblood family. So, I have a few scrolls that have been passed down," she told him eagerly.

Oh, Salazar was definitely interested now. Scrolls on family magic? That was what Helga had hinted at, and oh how he wanted to get his hands on them. Helga was still speaking, however. "Most commoners do not know how to read or write these days, but my father taught me." She seemed proud of this. "Most purebloods know how to read, whether they are wealthy or not." She was babbling on, but Salazar wasn't really paying attention anymore. He supposed he could be nicer to her, but doing it just to get his hands on the scrolls was too obvious. He would have to ease into it and not just start being nice to her all at once. But first…

"I suspect you are the daughter of a northman," he said suddenly, his words cutting her off. "Or, at the least, you have some of their blood in your lineage. So, how do you have scrolls? It is, to my knowledge, that they do not own such things."

Helga puffed herself up with a huff . "Yes, alright. My father was a northman. But several generations ago, my family was one of the first to settle in this land. My mother is more native to this country and it is through her family that the scrolls were passed down."

Godric, at the side, was watching all of this in amusement. He knew Salazar better than anyone, so he knew that the young man was planning something. Snorting in amusement, he shook his head before going to wash his face in the stream as well. As he washed his face, he called out to Salazar and made a vague motion before wandering off to relieve himself. Helga looked curious but Salazar merely rolled his eyes and diverted her attention by bringing out some food that they had brought with them. But as he was portioning the bread for them, a startled yelp had him stiffening and pulling out his wand in preparation for an attack. What he wasn't prepared for was Godric's panicked retreat towards them. The young man was trying to stuff his genitals back into his untied pants as he ran while an irate snake slithered behind him, snapping at his heels.

Helga shrieked beside him, a mixture of fear at the snake and indignation at the eyeful she had gained because of Godric. Putting his wand away, Salazar rolled his eyes and stepped forward. "What has my friend done this time?" He called out in Parseltongue, getting the snake to stop in its tracks. Godric hid himself behind Salazar, a movement that amused the black haired wizard greatly. But instead of commenting on the sudden lack of bravado, he turned his attention back to the snake that had coiled itself in front of him. The large black creature was hissing something about Godric trampling his nest. Salazar sighed and looked over to his friend who was holding onto him and whispering for him to get rid of the snake. "Stop that." He said in irritation before looking back over to the magnificent serpent. "My friend is a bumbling oaf, but he did not mean to damage your nest," Salazar tried to calm the still irate snake.

Finally, the creature seemed to realize that Salazar was talking to him and actually understood him. Slithering closer, the snake raised its head up higher. "A speaker… I have never heard of such a thing before." It said, observing Salazar with a calculating eye. Finally, he moved closer to Salazar and started to wrap around the wizard's leg. Climbing up until he was resting over Salazar's shoulders, the snake proceeded to make itself comfortable. "I will come with you, Speaker," it decided . "In payment for your… oaf having destroyed my nest." Salazar supposed that there was going to be no changing the snake's mind. In truth, he didn't really mind. The snake was obviously magical otherwise it would not have been there in the country at all. He was curious about the creature.

"It is going to eat you, Sal! Let me… let me take care of it!" Godric had pulled out his wand and had filled himself up with bravado once more in the face of the snake. In response, Salazar threw him a sharp glare and then petted the creature's head. Godric couldn't help but gape as he got the implied message. "You cannot be seriously thinking about keeping it!" He cried out, looking indignant. "It tried to kill me!"

Salazar glared again and then headed over to his horse. He climbed up onto the creature's back and looked down at his friend with a superior look. "You trampled his nest." He spoke shortly. "He was not trying to kill you. He was merely irritated that you had destroyed it with your bumbling around. He is the one who decided that he will come with me. Besides, he can talk to me and I think that this intrigues him. He will be staying." He was not going to argue this with Godric and his friend knew that.

So Godric merely started to grumble and walked over to his own horse. Helga was left feeling extremely out of place. She felt like she was missing something. Not to mention the fact that Salazar could apparently speak with snakes. Godric seemed to have already been aware as he had done his freaking out over the actual snake rather than his friend speaking with said creature. It was rather intriguing, but this was new to her. She had never heard of such an ability before. Climbing onto her own horse's back again, she watched the black haired wizard with a small frown. She didn't hate him for it and she didn't fear him. it was just strange. She knew he wasn't a bad person anyways. Rubbing her chest lightly over her heart, she quickly nudged her horse to catch up with the other two. Godric continued to sulk as they rode while Salazar quietly hissed in conversation with his new pet.

It was a year after Helga had joined them that they had passed through a larger town near central Scotland. It was an area that was overseen by a local clan affiliated family, though Salazar could not even guess which one. He had hoped to pass through without incident, but things did not always work out as planned.

"Godric, what did you do?" Salazar's exasperated voice broke the relative silence. They were currently surrounded by armed villages, their weapons of choice pointed towards them. The one that worried him the most was the pitchfork, but Helga stood in safety between him and Godric as they faced away from each other.

"I did not do anything!" The man's indignant voice called out in response to his exasperation. Said man had a hand on his sword, something he had stolen a while back from a blacksmith that they had come across in some unimportant village. Salazar had a sword of his own, hidden against his side. Over the year they had been traveling with Helga, the two men had taken up adding in physical combat to their duels. Godric had been learning how to handle a sword, tips he picked up along the way that built up on the foundation that he had learned in his childhood. He had started to teach Salazar as well, though the black haired man was a bit slower to learn.

Salazar was about to grip his own sword when a new voice called out over the group. "What is going on here?" It was the voice of a young woman. When she appeared, Salazar had to guess that she was close to their age of seventeen. Well, Helga was roughly sixteen years old, but she figured she would be turning seventeen soon. But he couldn't let his thoughts run away from him as it was not the time or the place, so Salazar took in the image of the young woman who had appeared. She was dressed in a fine blue tunic over a simple dress, a sturdy leather band belted about her waist. Over her dark hair she wore a veil of fine material and she rode upon a black horse. Her cloak was lined with fur and it fluttered in the breeze as her dark grey eyes took each of them in. "Well?" She spoke impatiently.

Salazar looked over her with narrowed eyes and received a stern look in reply. Straightening, the black haired man tilted his head up. He would not cower beneath her gaze as he refused to think he was beneath her. "We were minding our own business when we were accosted in the road, my lady." His voice, having deepened over the years, was smooth in tone. A light brushing of hair adorned his chin now and his black hair had grown out, held back now by a braid. It was much easier to take care of than the rat's nest it used to be. The scar that stretched over the side of his face in a jagged lightning strike - received in whatever accident had stolen his memories - had healed over by now, though still sometimes became raw around the edges. It always seemed to happen after dreams that left him sweating and he could never recall upon awakening. Salazar stood tall now, though still shorter than Godric's rather impressive height. The red haired man's hair was longer as well, though he kept it loose and it was still just as bright. Helga had started turning heads in villages they passed through, ever a ray of sunshine but just as burning if provoked. It took quite a bit of provocation to spark her temper, but, oh, did it burn. Still, all of them retained the look of youth and one could tell that they were still young, so they stood out wherever they traveled.

On the horse, the lady looked over to the townsfolk who were surrounding the small group. "And what say you of this? What have they done to warrant such a response?" She asked coolly, making the men fidget slightly. Finally, one man seemed to draw up his courage and accused of seeing one of the travelers perform magic.

Still thoroughly exasperated, Salazar rolled his eyes. He could pick out exactly who had performed the magic as it had been Godric had used a spell to fill his canteen. They hadn't thought anyone was around, but they had obviously been mistaken. Still, to be accused of magic was a serious thing. Besides the lady and the gathered townsfolk, there was no one else around. So, Salazar discreetly slipped his wand from its holster and quickly fired off a few obliviates. He was not expecting the sizzling spell that suddenly flew in his direction, but his reflexes were honed enough that he managed to duck so the spell whizzed harmlessly over his head.

Frowning, he turned sharply to find that the lady had pulled out her own wand. Beside him, Godric had quickly knocked out the townsfolk before they both faced the woman on horseback. Helga was tittering worriedly next to him, but he ignored her examination for injuries. "I'm fine, Helga. My lady, you are…" He cut himself short, not about to name her a witch out loud. Instead, he gave a quick shake of his head. "We truly have not done anything to harm anyone. If you let us go, we will be on our way. I apologize for any misunderstandings." He spoke in a placating manner, spreading his hands slightly to show that they didn't mean any harm. Salazar had found that sometimes it was best to try to speak one's way out of things if one was uncertain of how other skills could help one along.

"Who are you all?" The lady demanded with a frown on her lips. Salazar didn't reply at first, his lips thinning slightly. But finally he relented and he introduced them. Surprisingly, Godric had remained relatively quiet for once and had followed his lead. Helga wasn't a surprise as she was a healer and not much of a fighter, though she continued to fret by his side.

The lady looked over the three of them before sliding out of her saddle in an elegant motion. "I am Rowena Ravenclaw."

It was Rowena's family that owned the surrounding land. They owned an estate just north of the mundane village, though also had in their possession a great deal of wild and untamed land. Intrigued by the curious travelers, Rowena had invited them to stay at her family's estate. They had gladly taken her up on her offer, with Helga the most relieved to have another woman to spend her time with. Rowena was prim and proper, but the four magicals quickly became as thick as thieves. Salazar in particular had found that Rowena was always up for a good debate on nearly any topic he could think of. She was eager to teach, to share her knowledge with them. With this, it should not have been a surprise when she came to them with a grand idea. Godric, in comparison, was very vocal about his reaction to Rowena's suggestion. "You want to do what?!"

Sighing in a manner that said that she was exercising great patience, Rowena straightened out the edge of her tunic. "I want to build a school, Godric," She repeated lightly as she closed the hand written book in front of her. She then held up her hand before Godric could interrupt her again. Salazar had to hide a smirk at Godric's indignant look. "Listen to me for once, will you? Take a look at how all of you grew up. I know, Salazar, that you do not remember, but think of the other two. Godric, you were disowned because you are a wizard and had to travel from place to place with Salazar to manage to build the knowledge of magic that you possess. Helga, you come from a pureblood family, but did not have many resources readily available to you. It was all luck that we were all able to come together and were able to amass the knowledge that we have. Others of our kind have not been so lucky, some not even knowing that they have magic at all. We need to build a school where we can bring in students of all backgrounds to teach them. I know we are all young, hardly masters in our own right, but if we can at least pass on the basics to children, then we have done what we can. We can still learn on our own anyhow."

In the end, it really didn't take much to convince the others that it would be a good idea. The biggest positive for Salazar was that they would be able to stop running. He had enjoyed traveling, but he wanted to settle down for awhile and work on his magic. He wanted to work on his potions. Helga had given him a look of amusement when he brought up these points. "And you used to say that you would be no good at it," she had teased him.

"I did use to be terrible with them," Salazar spoke tightly in response, more as a way to hide his embarassment than said with any real ire. "I have a feeling, and a few very vague memories, that suggests that I was very bad at them when I was younger. Perhaps because of a terrible teacher." It was Helga and her knowledge of herbs and magical plants that had really help make it click even after his lessons with Master Wolfhelm all that time ago. Helga had been a very patient teacher with him until he could finally understand the properties better, unlike Wolfhelm's disorganized approach. Once it had finally clicked, from there Salazar had soaked up any knowledge of potion making that he could find and experimented when he could. Though the opportunities had been few and far between given the lack of a proper brewing station for the delicacies of certain ingredients. A school would give him the chance to build a stable lab.

With them all in agreement, Rowena smiled briefly before she stood up. She then walked over to a little chest and pulled out a scroll that contained a map. "I had a dream," she told them. "There is an old broch a few days' ride from here. My mother's family owned the land for generations, though it has been in my father's hands since her passing. My father has had little use for it, saying his home is here. If I have your help, Salazar. And you, Godric. I should be able to request the rights to the land, so then that is where we can build our school. Wards and enchantments will need to be woven in, and there is plenty of room for expansion. The land includes parts of a forest and a loch, but the open grounds between are quite extensive on their own. The broch itself looks out over the loch."

There was silence as the three others thought over the idea, exchanging wordless looks like an unspoken language. Helga was the first to smile and nod her head, a beaming smile overtaking her face. "I think it sounds like a lovely place for a school," she agreed happily. "But if we are to discuss the details of such I plan, I would like to put forward the idea where we designate an area specifically for healing. After all, there are bound to be injuries. Especially with the two of you as teachers!" She teased the two males of their group, making Salazar scowl lightly. Still, the man did see the merit of the idea and nodded his head in acceptance. Accidents were likely to happen and it was not going to be for lack of proper teaching skills.

Godric was silent for a while longer before he suddenly smirked. "Fine. I shall agree as well. But only if we call the school Hogwarts." He looked smug, ignoring the incredulous look that Salazar shot him. "What? I think it would be funny!" He stated and crossed his arms.

"We are not going to call the school Hogwarts." Salazar hoped to whatever deity out there that the name would not stick. He knew he had had a bad feeling when Godric had asked him to translate various words into the language he had first spoken. No one was likely to understand the joke but him and the other three, but who would want to go to a school named 'Hogwarts'? It sounded disgusting, not for a name of a school for small children. No, definitely not. The school would never be called Hogwarts.

It was too bad that Rowena decided she liked it because it reminded her of her dream where she was led to the discovery of the school's location. Helga had not been hard to convince either, oddly charmed. "I cannot believe that you are actually going to let him call the school Hogwarts," Salazar grumbled as they gathered in the entryway of the large keep. After they had secured the rights to the land from Rowena's father, they had immediately traveled to the location and had begun renovations to bring their vision to life. Just a few days ago they had finished with the initial construction. They were going to start weaving the spells for the wards soon, but were taking a break to replenish their magic cores. It had taken nearly a year of magic enhanced construction to finish the school. At least for the moment.

The original building had been a singular old broch atop a hill. They had all agreed that it would not be enough. Rowena, being the farthest traveler, had described some large structures she had seen in the Duchy of Normandy and surrounding area. They had taken inspiration from this, making the land the broch sat on into a motte. The broch itself, an ancient tower with no windows and a singular door, had been rebuilt into a keep that housed their various classrooms as well as Rowena's library. The base of the keep housed an underground storeroom. Salazar had claimed this area instead for his potion making as it provided the perfect environment.

Down from the keep, along stone steps set into the motte, led into the bailey. It was surrounded by a palisade they had built from stone rather than timber, wanting it to endure. Several towers had been built into the palisade, one of which housed the kitchens. In the bailey, the enclosed courtyard at the base of the motte, several buildings had been constructed. Near the entrance had been built a great hall with a soaring ceiling, a grand marvel that stood supported by magic. It would make for an impressive reception area and meeting space. There was also an infirmary for Helga.

Where they had all gathered in the keep to meet, Salazar gently stroked the head of Eolas, the snake that he had encountered all of those years ago. Eolas was now his familiar and could be seen with Salazar a good portion of the time. "We have already decided who will teach what classes, but where are we going to have the students sleep? There will be times in between classes and I will imagine that we will have them stay here for a majority of the year as well." He had a small frown on his lips. "We will need to create dormitories."

Godric suddenly interrupted Salazar. "Why not build houses?" He said with a grin. "Or what I mean is, so we do not have to construct even more buildings, why not sort the students according to different attributes in their personalities? They will be with other students that are similar to them, so it will make it easier to adjust. I can take all the brave students." He grinned proudly. "I can watch over them. Salazar can take all of the cunning students and so on."

Salazar let out a sigh. "Your idea has merit, I agree." He frowned slightly before giving his friend a teasing look. "Time must be ending for Godric to actually have a good idea for once. Would you not agree, my brother?" He said before waving his hand slightly. "We would need to carefully create an object to sort the students, but we can each have our own group, or House, like Godric said. We would have responsibility over one group, which will save us the trouble of all four of us having to look over the entire body of students. It also helps to solve the dormitory problem. We can each pick a part of the school for our House to be in. There will be a common room and then the dormitory rooms themselves." He ran his fingers over Eolas' head again. "There is a tower near the base of the hill. I can easily construct a tunnel corridor from my potion rooms in the keep to the tower," he said thoughtfully after a moment. "My chambers will be nearby and easily accessible if needed then."

Helga looked positively enchanted. "I will take the kitchen tower," she giggled softly. "So then, it will be near my chambers as well." The young woman then brightened then, giving a clap of her hands. "Oh, why not have a bit of fun? I think the children would enjoy it, would you not agree? So, we should pick a champion for each of our Houses!" She tapped her lip thoughtfully before smiling happily once more. The others were curious enough to allow her time to think. "But before that, yellow is my favorite colour. So I will choose that, of course. Black would be a good compliment, I should think, so black and yellow will be the colours of my House's heraldry." She then looked thoughtful again, on a roll with her ideas. "So, we should each pick an animal to represent each House as their guardian and champion," she hummed softly, but her eyes quickly brightened with inspiration. "Oh, of course a badger! My House's animal will be the badger."

Smiling pleasantly at Helga's enthusiasm, Rowena nodded her head. "I shall have blue and bronze then, for my heraldry. The eagle will be my champion, of course." She paused then and spared Godric a glance when he went to open his mouth. "Not a raven. Do not be so obvious, Godric." She gave the man a sly look from the corner of her eye as he quickly closed his mouth again, a flush across his freckled cheeks. "I think I will have the West Tower for my House," Rowena continued before she turned her full attention to Godric. "And what of you? Though I think we can all take a guess." She said the words in amusement as she eyed the lion head brooch on Godric's dark red cloak.

Swept up in the excitement, Godric smirked and crossed his arms. "So I shall take the East Tower, as it is the tallest and so has one of the best views in the entire school!" He spoke exuberantly while he ignored the way it made Salazar sigh but smile fondly. "Next are colours for the heraldry. Well, is that even a question? Red and gold, of course, as they are bright and bold! And a lion will be my House's guardian, because they are brave and fierce!" His deep voice boomed, his excitement too much to contain.

Salazar decided he could only be amused by them all. He shook his head fondly before he chuckled lightly. Well, he could admit that this was all a bit of fun. And it gave life to their school as it slowly came together. "Well now, I suppose I shall take green and silver then while my House's guardian shall be a serpent." He paused to stroke Eolas' scales once more. "I do not suppose I have to explain why, do I?" He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he teased Godric. The red haired man rolled his eyes in response, but Salazar ignored him once more. "So then, we have the four Houses. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor." He paused then as inspiration took hold. "Why not have a competition? Doing well in class can earn points while getting in trouble can take points away. Whichever House has the most points at the end of the school term wins. It may give the students reason to want to do well and not get in trouble."

"Prepare to be beaten, Slytherin!" Godric yelled playfull, as he already seemed to be set on the whole idea of a competition. "There is no question who will come out the winner and you cannot complain as it was all your idea, brother!"

Salazar did not even miss a beat. "I will not even have to try to overtake you, Gryffindor."

Helga and Rowena shared a laugh between them, the atmosphere around the four friends warm and full of their joy. There was still much to do, but the school had started to take shape.

And so time continued to pass. They made new friends in their pursuit to build the school, to share their vision for the future of the wizarding community. Then, finally, they were able to open the doors of the school for the first time. They were young, but their passion drove them. And Salazar knew that they had a lifetime ahead of them to further grow, to continue to shape the school into something great.

"Five years," Salazar whispered. "It has been five years since I first met you, Godric." Salazar was standing with the man in Godric's office, adjacent to his classroom in the keep. "Only five years, but it seems like a lifetime." He smiled slightly before he smoothed out his tunic. "The first of the children will be arriving tonight, as you know. I believe Rowena said it should be around dinner, so I cannot wait for the feast to celebrate."

"Helga's contribution, of course." Godric interrupted, but Salazar only gave a small chuckle before nodding his head. "It was a splendid idea to be sure." Godric continued before he leaned back in his chair slightly. He gained a thoughtful look on his face. "We have all seen maybe nineteen years, but it amazes me to think that we are going to be teachers in a school of magic. We are by no means masters." He shook his head, staring thoughtfully out of the small window.

With another soft laugh, Salazar walked over to his friend and leaned against the desk. "Perhaps not," he said before he waved a hand dismissively. "But the children that we are going to teach are young. They will only need to know the basics, something that we all know very well. As they learn, so will we. We will each have a mastery before too long anyways, I suspect. Rowena's personal library is slowly expanding more and more. I, myself, have been studying and experimenting in my free time."

Godric nodded his head before standing up. "Yes, I do suppose that you are right. We should get down to the great hall for our midday meal." He smiled before leading his friend out of his office. The two then made their way down from the keep and through the courtyard to the hall. There, Godric took a pause to stare up at the ceiling. "Every time I see this, I cannot believe we managed such a feat. When we strove to bring a piece of enchantment to this place to awe visitors, I never would have thought that this would be the result."

Salazar laughed and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Thank Rowena and her books! It helped that there were the four of us weaving in the spells together. I do not think that we would have been able to succeed otherwise. The theory behind it is absolutely fascinating."

Snorting, Godric started his way back up to the front where Helga was already waiting. "Your thirst for knowledge is only surpassed by Rowena, my brother," he said dryly before he took his seat. As Godric lounged back in his seat, he looked out over the great hall. There were four long tables, each decorated in their different colours. Godric suspected that only the ends would be used for some time, but hopefully their school would expand in time. He greeted Rowena as he spotted her before he waited for her to be seated to start on his meal. For not knowing any of them more than a few years, he felt like he had a family with them. And though their first students were only few, their family slowly continued to grow. Godric had hopes for the future.

Though not every moment was blissfully perfect. "Could not sleep, brother?" Godric's voice broke through the silence of the late hour, though he luckily kept his tone low so the disruption was not shocking. Salazar barely flinched, hunched over the table. He did not respond to Godric as he massaged his temples and stared down at the parchments before him. "Ah… headaches again?" Godric's voice was sympathetic as he sat across from the black haired wizard. He reached forward then and took the parchments. "What are these?" His tone was curious.

Salazar continued to massage his temples and closed his eyes. "My dreams," he said quietly. "In them, I feel like I am staring out through a cloudy window. People are faceless and just out of reach. I catch snatches of these details there… I feel compelled to sketch them out."

Godric looked at them curiously. "Some look like Hogwarts. But so much… well, grander. So many different details." Salazar shrugged, and pinched his nose.

"Probably just an active imagination, dreams for the future of Hogwarts," Salazar murmured.

Godric nodded absently as he flipped through the pages. "Lots of sleepless nights, I see." He paused then, spying a drawing of a large chamber. It was decorated with large motifs of serpents and the statue of an ugly old man. "What is this supposed to be? Seems sort of dramatic," he said in amusement.

Salazar cracked open an eye and then scoffed. "I have no idea."

(Salazar would not know that in merely a century, his journal would be discovered by then Headmistress Ailith Agnes Threston. His sketches would be referenced in the following centuries as Hogwarts expanded and as the castle became a wonder of various architectural examples throughout history.

The journal itself would become lost after it fell into the hands of Fulke Gaunt, a descendant of the Slytherin line. The Headmaster used the journal as a guide to build the Chamber of Secrets, believing the statue in the drawing to be of Salazar himself. Fulke Gaunt was disgraced as Headmaster not long after its completion. In bitterness, he left behind a basilisk in the chamber to be used one day to cleanse Hogwarts and protect the Slytherin legacy as he saw it. His descendents would go on to spread rumors of the Chamber and pass its secret onto further generations of Gaunts.)

For the four friends, time moved on. Classes were an exhausting endeavor, but well worth it in the end. It was rewarding to watch the children, who were the future of their world, grow and learn. The school had grown enough in its short amount of time, become known enough to gain a few more professors who were willing to come pass on their knowledge to the next generation. Some masters came and went, teaching for awhile but unwilling to become part of the more permanent staff.

Still, Salazar had decided to take on teaching two subjects himself. It was hard to juggle sometimes, but he found himself not minding this one bit. Most of the time they did not assign work to be done outside class or take written tests anyhow because many of the children did not know how to read or write. Rowena had taken it upon herself to teach literacy skills to those who needed it, but Salazar had also been meaning to ask her about adding in a class that would help mundane born students better adjust to magic.

After he had stood from his desk after a potions' class, Salazar took his time to clean up. He had another class to get to, after all. It was in a separate classroom from his potions' class for reasons of safety. The young wizard made his way out of the classroom then and locked the door behind him. After a quick stop by his office, he grabbed a few things before he headed up further into the school's keep. His next class was Dark Arts and Defense of them. Dark Arts was his next passion besides Potions. Technically, he could be considered a dark wizard now though he still had more leanings towards Neutral. He had long since learned that with most magic it was the intent behind magic that made it either good or evil. Well, so to speak. He was lucky his friends felt the same as his hunger to learn had no bounds. And he felt that to best teach Defense against Dark Arts, it was to understand the Dark Arts.

So, he taught the Dark Arts along with defense against them and Godric was the one who took the lighter spells along with their defense. They all agreed that it was best to teach the children in a controlled environment and to keep them well rounded. They would keep the children safe and try to give them the tools they needed to grow.

"Professor Slytherin!"

A voice broke through his thoughts and Salazar looked up to see one of his students running towards him. With a frown twisting his lips, he stopped to let the boy catch up. "Master Everett?" He asked while taking in the boy's worried look. "What is it?" The young boy looked out of breath as he bent over slightly to take in great lungfuls of air.

"Professor, you have to come quick! Jameson… Jameson is on top of the tower…" He trailed off, but Salazar got the gist of it.

"Follow me," he spoke curtly before going over to one of the nearby walls. After he had placed a hand against the cool stone, he hissed softly beneath his breath. In a few seconds a door had slid open where there was once a seamless wall. Salazar quickly strode through; making sure that the Everett boy followed after him. The secret passage, available only to him because of the parsel magic involved, led them straight to the Slytherin Tower much like a portal would. Without a moment to lose, he strode quickly to the door and opened it to find one of his students standing on the edge while he prepared to jump.

As he weighed his options, Salazar crept closer and held out a hand. "Jameson? Come here, son." He spoke softly and kept his expression calm. However, the frightened boy only yelled at him to stay back. He did not want to push the boy over the edge, both literally and figuratively, so he stopped his advance but continued to hold out his hand. He could summon the boy, but he wanted Jameson to step back on his own. It would be better for the boy. He would use his magic only for a last resort. "Come here, Jameson. Tell me what had happened," he tried again as he kept a soothing tone to his voice. "Tell me what is wrong."

Jameson looked over his shoulder before looking back over the side of the tower. The boy then wiped at his eyes. "I am a freak." He finally said, "My parents said so… All the magic…" He wiped at his eyes again, sniffing. "They let me come here reluctantly when they found out I have magic. But… but they will not want me back… I just know it! I am a freak…"

Salazar frowned at the boy's jumbled rambling. He could only guess that the stress of learning must have gotten to the poor child. If he remembered correctly, and based on the way the boy was talking, Jameson was mundane born. "Jameson, you are not a freak. Magic is special." He soothed as he carefully edged forward while he tried to not spook the boy. "If your parents do not like it, then we can become your family. Professor Godric was disowned, but look at him, a professor and a founder of this school. You are safe here. You can protect yourself." He carefully reached out for the boy. "Come on down, Jameson. Let us go see the house elves and have them warm up some milk for you." He smiled encouragingly then as the boy turned around slightly, looking unsure. "That is right. Come on. I can help you."

Jameson reached out a hand to Salazar finally, but his foot slipped on the wet stone from the previous night's rainfall. The boy let out a piercing scream as he flailed and tumbled over the edge. A string of rushed parseltongue passed from Salazar's lips as he gave a startled curse and he threw himself to the edge. His wand was in his hand without thought and he cast a wordless levitating charm.

Immediately, Jameson's descent halted and he hovered briefly in the air before Salazar carefully dragged him back up with the spell. As soon as the boy's feet touched solid ground once more, Salazar gathered the sobbing child into his arms. He grit his teeth and made a promise to himself then and there. None of his students, the children in his House, would have to go through what Jameson had. He would be the support they needed if they could not get it anywhere else. His House would become a family, relying on themselves if they couldn't rely on anyone else.

It was not long after that his promise was tested. "I am sorry, Salazar. Truly. There is nothing that we can do." Rowena shook her head sadly, watching the man in front of them. Three years had passed since they had opened their school and many students had entered. There was even a thriving wizarding village which had set up not too far from the school grounds, named Hogsmeade. Currently, Salazar was trying to get the other founders to help him with one of his students. The young boy had been abandoned and now had no place to go. It had happened before to several other students, but they had been lucky enough to have other families willing to take them in, or have other families that were willing to adopt them. Thankfully, it did not happen often. However, this young boy had no one.

As his patience snapped, Salazar straightened up and sneered slightly. "Fine. If you are not willing to help me, then I will figure something out on my own." He turned abruptly, his emerald cloak flaring out behind him.

"Salazar! That was not…!" Godric's voice was cut off as the door slammed behind him. Sighing, Godric slumped back in his seat. "I do want to help." He murmured under his breath, raising a hand to rub the stubble on his cheek. "But there really is nothing. No one is available or willing to take the boy in."

Helga reached over and placed a hand on Godric's arm. "We know. But you know how Salazar is, Godric. He cannot help but feel for the boy. You know that." She then sighed and pulled her hand back. "Although, Salazar has changed as of late." She frowned slightly. "It is all of the recent unrest, I am afraid to say. We are all affected by it, but to suggest that we take away mundane born children from their families? We cannot do that. It is a difficult situation."

The others nodded in response, though none of them said anything. They did do what they could, but there was little else they could do. Godric suspected that it was because many of the mundane born students went to Slytherin that Salazar was so affected. The man saw more than anyone else what it did to the children to be told that they were evil. Salazar and his House took in those children and taught them how to survive. He was glad that the man had taken it upon himself, but he feared for his friend. What if Salazar saw one thing too far? One day… maybe he would begin to hate the mundane. The little bit of doubt took root in his mind against his will.

Unaware of the unease of his friends, Salazar stormed into his chambers. There was only one thing left he could do: adopt the boy himself. So he stalked into his library and locked himself in to research the ritual he would need. He had seen references before so he just needed to find it again. When he did find it, hours later, Salazar immediately gathered the needed ingredients before he summoned the boy to his work room. The twenty-two year old founder would not be swayed in his decision; he did not contact his friends first. Perhaps it was reckless foolishness that he so often playfully accused Godric of, but he was determined to save Cayden.

Cayden was maybe fifteen years old at the most. He had been one of the few special cases that the founders had accepted in the recent year. Before Hogwarts, Cayden hid all signs of his magic. However, his parents had eventually found out and Cayden almost died before Salazar had come upon him during one of his travels to find magical children. He knew Cayden looked up to him and he was fond of the eager young man who was so desperate to learn all he could of magic. In some ways, Cayden reminded him of the way he had been just a few short years ago. Seven, to be exact, since he had woken with no memories of before.

"Cayden." Salazar greeted the boy warmly when he appeared. Bringing the boy closer, he hugged him briefly before staring him firmly in the eyes. "I want to help you. But you are going to have to trust me." He told Cayden before explaining to him that he was going to adopt him into the Slytherin family. They were too close in age to get away with a father and son bond, but Salazar could adopt him as his brother. As a result, he wouldn't have to go back to his family and he would gain Salazar's Parsel abilities, along with the man's name.

In the end, Cayden agreed to the ritual and he became Cayden Slytherin, brother to Salazar Slytherin. It was the catalyst for what would come in just a few short years.

"Salazar Slytherin, you are hereby banished from Hogwarts." The words seemed to echo unnecessarily in the suddenly silent hall. They were words that Salazar never even dreamed he would hear, let alone from the mouth of his best friend and brother. Had ten years meant nothing to him? Their school was flourishing, but it was far from perfect. Why would he be banished?

"Godric, please…" He tried, but the man only hardened off his expression and clenched his jaw.

"No." The man stood from his spot at the staff table, cutting off any protests from the dark haired wizard. "We should have never let you teach the Dark Arts to the children. So, you are banished from Hogwarts for fostering the Dark Arts and hatred towards mundanes in these halls. You must leave before sundown tomorrow. That is the only allowance we give you." The man then sat back down while he ignored the hurt look that was so painfully stretched across Salazar's face. Rowena looked pained, but she hid it behind a stern mask and her inability to look Salazar in the eye. Helga looked the most affected, tears in her eyes. She was looking down at her lap and refused to meet Salazar's eyes as the man searched each of them beseechingly.

Finally, Salazar gathered himself up after feeling he had made a fool of himself in front of the whispering student body. "Fine. So be it," he whispered before he turned on his heel, while barely restrained hurt radiated from his body as he stalked away. His entire House stood up and hurried after their Head without his direction. He led them to their tower and, once they were in their common room, they crowded around him. They all seemed so lost to him, their expressions searching him for what to do now. As he kept his emotions tightly reined in, Salazar drew them in close. "You cannot trust anyone." He told them. "Look where it got me… You can only trust yourselves. You are a family. The other Houses do not understand and they may ridicule you for having a banished Head. Stand strong together, my Snakelings." He looked around at all of the young faces. "I am so proud of you all. Do not let anyone tell you anything different." He reached out to touch the cheek of one of the boys. "If you need anything, any of you, do not be afraid to seek out the help of your fellow students. Slytherins stick together. Remember that."

Salazar gave a final goodbye to his students before he disappeared to his rooms nearby. The tower was built into the side of the cliff and the common room descended down into the rock. He had constructed a window to see into the depths of the loch. The tower above the underground common room is what housed the bedrooms for his students. His chambers were on the same floor as the common room entrance, though did not drop down as far.

In his rooms, he did not bother to gather any of his things. He had a day, did he not? There was something else more important on his mind than material things. Instead, he gathered his cloak and left after sealing his room. The door disappeared into the stone as if it had never been there. He touched the stone briefly before he turned on his heel to stalk down the corridor. He exited the tower and strode across the courtyard with purpose. He exited the school through the imposing gates while he avoided the great hall. Down across the flying bridge he walked and to the grounds' gates. The trip did nothing to soothe the squeeze around his heart. With a final look back, he disapparated from his spot.

When he reappeared, he stood in the middle of a large field. The foundations of a homestead, familiar and unfinished, stood beside a bubbling brook. "Cayden!" He called out, knowing that his brother could hear him. His little brother, the one that he had taken in those two years ago, had betrayed him. It was something he had known in the very depths of his heart. Salazar had taught him just like he had taught all of his other students. But Cayden had been closest to him, the one he had taught parselmagic after he had gained his parsel abilities. But as soon as he had graduated a few months before, Cayden had disappeared. Rumors of mundanes being hunted by magic had arisen not long after. It had arisen tension in the school. Then Cayden had visited him, bright eyed and longing to share his grand scheme. Salazar rebuked him and Cayden had not taken kindly to it. Even so, the Slytherin founder had felt so betrayed. He had not taught Cayden and taken him in just so he could become a murderer. Salazar knew it had to been because of Cayden that he had been banished, just knew that the others blamed him for Cayden's madness. The burning mass of emotions in his chest drove him to confront his little brother.

"Big brother." The words cut through Salazar's thoughts and the twenty five year old man turned to face the younger Slytherin that had appeared. "Have you finally come to join me? You know as well as I do just how filthy mundanes are… they do not understand. They are afraid of us! But we, we are so much better than them. They do not deserve to live!" Cayden's eyes glowed with the loss of his reason and it twisted Salazar's heart to see it. Was his precious brother too far gone?

Salazar suspected that it was the teen's treatment as a young child that had fostered this belief about those without magic. He had tried to show Cayden the beauty of the world, been too naive as to believe that he could fix the deep-rooted scars within Cayden. He should have recognized the folly of it before now. How blind had he been? How many things had he missed or willfully ignored not wanting to believe it? It was true that he was not altogether too fond of mundanes, but they were human, too. They did not deserve to die just because they did not understand magic. He had thought he had made this distinction clear. "Give this up, Cayden," he said soothingly while he carefully slipped his wand into his hand.

Once more, the brief thought of how the other founders would blame him for Cayden flitted through his mind. Truthfully, he blamed himself as well. He should have noticed, should have done more. He should have stopped Cayden before he could start this war. So many should haves and could haves. It would just be another reason why they would feel justified in throwing him out. After all, how much of Cayden's work was because of a misuse of the Dark Arts? He half wondered if it was more than just blaming him for Cayden's misguided ideals and that they instead took it so far as to believe he had sent the boy out to kill on his orders.

But this was not the time for such thoughts, so he shook them off and raised his wand. "I did not come to join you, Cayden," he informed the young man firmly. "I came here to stop you. And if that means killing you, then so be it." The madness in Cayden would not be easily tamed and he might already be too far gone. Salazar knew that the others would not allow him to return to Hogwarts, but at the very least he could take care of the threat to the peace. His goal was to subdue Cayden, but he knew he could not stop at anything. He had to repent for the wrongs he had done and he had no home to return to anyways. Perhaps he would even die in the process. At that moment, he found he didn't really care. Whispering a spell, he initiated the duel.

Salazar did not want to fight the brother he had trained, brought under his wing. He had given Cayden Family Magic and had given him a home. But the madness Cayden had hidden, that Salazar had been blind to see, ran deep. As Cayden's elder brother, it was now his responsibility to correct what had happened. He had taught Cayden well, but the boy was still young and reckless. Even Slytherin's could be reckless after all, they just tended to hide it better. Salazar too had grown used to dueling with the other founders. He was a more well rounded dueler than Cayden. Still, it took a lucky shot to bring the young man down. And with it, Salazar fell to his knees beside his brother. He reached out to Cayden then in his grief. But, as his fingers neared the young man's cheek, a spark like that of electricity jumped between them. It spread a searing pain through him as the gathered magic sought an outlet.

Cayden had been gathering the magic necessary for a dark spell and had been interrupted in the middle of it. With the lingering energy in the air from residual spells, Salazar became the epicenter as it all mixed into a chaotic cocktail. As it surged through him, Salazar slipped into darkness.

((End Chapter One))

Chapter Text

Last time:

Cayden had been gathering the magic necessary for a dark spell and had been interrupted in the middle of it. With the lingering energy in the air from residual spells, Salazar became the epicenter as it all mixed into a chaotic cocktail. As it surged through him, Salazar slipped into darkness.

Chapter Two

His head pounded something fierce. It was a pain that he was far too familiar with after his last magical accident. It was something he had not wanted to experience again, yet here he was.

Salazar slowly opened his eyes and pushed himself into a more upright position. At least it was night out or, perhaps, very early morning. He would have rather not have the sun assaulting his currently sensitive eyes. Another stroke of luck was that he did not have the misfortune of a fresh wound over a good portion of his face like he had the last time. The edges of the scar did feel a bit raw, but there was no blood at the very least.

Besides the ache that filled his body, he did not seem to have any other injuries. So, he had to figure out what had happened. He could feel his core at a dangerous low, but not yet life threatening. With that in mind, Salazar pulled out his wand and then flicked it wordlessly so a pale light appeared. It detached from his wand tip and hovered in front of him with a small whistling sound. The small orb gave him some light to see by, so he pushed aside his cloak and opened up a small pouch against his hip. He retrieved a small vial and inspected it carefully. Satisfied that whatever had happened had not damaged the integrity of the potion, he downed it quickly. The headache reliever would go a long way on its own to make him feel more human again.

Now that his head was no longer in a fog, Salazar took the opportunity to look around. He thought he could say that he had appeared to be in the same meadow that he had fought Cayden in, but he distinctly remembered that there had definitely not been an old oak tree just a few feet off and the wide river had definitely been a little stream. Even the budding foundation of a home had changed, where it now appeared as a crumbling ruin. Anyone, even a fool, would realize that something was very wrong. Still, he was not quite sure where to go or where even to begin investigating what had happened. He was certainly not welcome at Hogwarts anymore, though he might still have time to collect his things. Though, he had to say that if he reappeared there he could not be certain of what sort of welcome he would receive. So, after a few moments of thought, he decided he would travel to Diagon Alley in Londinium. Ollivander's shop was there, if he remembered correctly. Salazar had, of course, crafted his own wand so he had no need for the actual shop but instead the small community that had started to grow around the little shop would be a good place to start in his quest to find a new home. So, Diagon Alley it was.

Summoning up his will and his magic, Salazar used a small burst to gather hold of the tethors of wild magic and silently apparated away. When he reappeared he found himself not in a muddy alleyway between wood and stone houses, nor on a cobbled street. Instead he stood in an alleyway that was filled with trash and had towering buildings on either side of him. Confusion did not even begin to describe what he felt at that moment. Had he veered off course somehow? He had not felt anything go wrong; he had not even splinched himself. Yet as he stepped out of the alleyway he had found himself in, Salazar found himself in a whole new world. People in strange clothing milled about on foot or in strange mechanical vehicles. The world almost seemed fueled by magic except for the distinct lack of such a feeling that would have. A tad overwhelmed by it all, Salazar immediately retreated back into the alleyway again. He flicked his wand then, the cool wood soothing in his palm. "Tempus Ipsum," he stated firmly for a detailed actuation of the date. There was a dawning realization about just what had felt wrong since he had woken, but he just needed proof. The smoky letters and numbers that appeared in the air in front of him gave him all the proof he needed. "August 13th in the year 2000 of the Gregorian Calendar," he growled out before he leaned against the wall for support. He swore his headache was coming back now, even with the aid of a potion. He did not even know what the Gregorian Calendar was, how it might be different from the calendar he was aware of in his time. Regardless, he was far out of his depth as he had somehow ended up over one thousand some years in the future! What was he supposed to do now?

Hogwarts. He could return to Hogwarts, he thought. He could go to his unplottable homestead in the fen, but Hogwarts was where he felt drawn. It was the one thing he thought he knew for certain in this strange new world. Still, how much had things changed in one thousand years? It was easy enough to see that the mundanes had thrived. But what of the magical community? Was his precious school still standing? Even so, the other founders would not be there to stop him from returning. If his school no longer existed as it was, then the structure itself should still be there at least. It would be a place to live until he could figure out what had gone wrong. And if Hogwarts was still a school, then he could see how things had changed over the course of the long years. Would it still be a place to be proud of? With that thought in mind, Salazar gathered his magic and apparated away once more to the Forbidden Forest to just outside the ward boundaries.

When he gathered his bearings and looked up, the sight of Hogwarts nearly took his breath away. In his time, the school was magnificent but it always left him disappointed in a way that he could not explain. He could see some elements of the original school, such as a few of the towers and the gate, but it had grown to be so much more than he could have ever hoped it could be. The next question, though, was whether or not it was still a school. The gate let him pass, so that was a good sign.

As he arrived at the gatehouse, Salazar gently brushed his fingers over the stones. He could feel their age like a tangible thing. The stories these stones could tell… Salazar took a deep breath and looked down the bridge that led to Hogwarts proper. The bridge itself was familiar to him as he walked it, each footstep seeming to resound inside of him. The bridge ended into a small walled courtyard that was only familiar as far as the cobbled stone beneath his feet.  But the gate before him was unchanged.

As he placed a hand against the door, it opened soundlessly and without hesitation. Beyond was once an open courtyard with its gathered buildings. Now it opened into a large entryway with a sweeping staircase, but was no less breathtaking. His heart thundered in anticipation.

"Hello, my dear," Salazar whispered as the warmth of joy and welcome wrapped around him. "Oh, how much you have grown!" With the erection of the wards, Hogwarts had gained a mind of her own. This had been partly by design in an effort to make the school safe from anything they could not conceive themselves. But to him, she had been like a child. He looked forward to getting to know her again.

But that would have to wait for now. The Great Hall was now joined into one large building rather than its own freestanding structure, though was still where he last remembered. It was as good a place to start as any, so he approached it. The doors opened for him without any prompt.

((Page Break))

Ever since Harry Potter had disappeared, the general assumption had been that he was that he was dead. It was not without evidence as all magical means of tracing the boy in the last five years had come up empty. And given that Voldemort had attacked the boy's house at that time, well, it wasn't a hard conclusion to come upon. Albus had tried to keep this news quiet so that it wouldn't get around. He was afraid of what might happen if the wizarding world knew that their precious savior was gone, though he held on to a small speck of hope that the boy still lived. It was a dying flame of hope, however, the longer the boy remained missing and through the years that had passed. Even still, the Headmaster had tried to convince the world that Harry had gotten out safely and that he had simply hidden away for training. It had gotten harder and harder to keep up this story though, as Harry had been gone for going on nearly five years now. The hope he had held out on was finally starting to die as he was slowly resigning himself to the fact that he didn't think that the boy would be coming back. Harry should have been almost twenty years old now.

With such melancholy thoughts, Albus gave a sigh from his spot at the head table. He picked up his goblet and took a sip of the pumpkin juice contained within while he quietly listened to the conversations around him. It was not enough to distract him from his own thoughts, however. Even as he lingered on thoughts of their lost saviour, what really plagued his mind was that Voldemort had been picking up steam as of late. The first few years after the monster's resurrection had been relatively mild, if one could call it such. According to Albus' spies, with Harry out of the picture, Voldemort had spent time looking for the boy but otherwise building up his army. It meant that Voldemort wasn't sure of the boy's death either. Still, there had been raids by the deatheaters and many resulting deaths but everything had been otherwise frighteningly quiet. To Albus, and many others of the Order, this was the calm before the storm. At the very least, it had given them time to prepare as well. Harry's friends had all since graduated and many of his class were now in the Order. Hermione was a teaching assistant now at Hogwarts while Ron was there to keep up security as he was now a trainee auror. That was one more thing that hadn't changed since Harry had disappeared. The school was still open, a place of sanctuary for the children. It kept a sense of normalcy while it made sure that the future of the wizarding world could be defended in case war broke out fully. And given the size of the castle, whole families could be housed just in case. No other place was safer than Hogwarts and Albus firmly believed that.

It was currently early August and the staff were preparing for the first day of school while the Order members were also juggling trying to stop Voldemort's raids. It was very early in the morning still as the sun was just rising. There had been a small raid in the earlier hours and Albus was waiting for the Order members to come back along with a few of the staff. It was the only reason he was awake so early in the morning, food prepared for the Order when they returned. Luckily, he did not have long to wait as the doors creaked open a few minutes later and a group of very weary mages trudged in. They looked tired and dirty, and a few were injured as well. But all of them had returned, so that much was a relief. Albus stood and went to greet them, see how things had gone and make sure they were okay. Thankfully, it looked like none of the injuries appear to be life threatening and Poppy was there to help tend to them. Severus had been waiting as well and started to handing out remedies to those who did not need Poppy's more attentive care.

As the leader of the group, Kingsley, approached Albus to give him his report. The voices around them were subdued and very few of them spoke unless it was necessary. However, in the somber air of the Great Hall, the castle around them suddenly seemed to quiver. The torches and candles burned brighter. Grime and dust magically disappeared. The tables suddenly looked like they had been freshly waxed and polished. The House banners fluttered and the faded colours were once again bright, as good as new. The suits of armour creaked as they straightened and stood fully to attention. Through the small group of wizards there were whispers of confusion. "Is the castle… well, preening itself?" Tonks commented, a tone of strained disbelief in her voice. The aged Headmaster vaguely recalled a time that this had happened before nearly a decade ago, but for the life of him could not think of what the significance might be.

There was little time to wonder as the doors to the Hall opened just moments later. Wands were drawn quickly, the Order on edge after such a bad raid the night before. They were prepared for anything, but it was only a young man that appeared in the doorway and walked into the Hall. He had a bemused expression on his face at the action of the doors and the castle. Upon seeing the assembled group, the man looked momentarily surprised and then pleased. "Are you teachers here?" The man asked, but the Order shifted in confusion at the unknown speech.

"My apologies, but we do not speak your language," Albus said as he stepped forward. He thought it might have been Scottish Gaelic, but Minerva was not around to verify and it was not one of the languages he was fluent in. Though he thought the young man might have asked about teachers. He had to wonder then if the stranger spoke English at all, but he watched then as a flicker of surprise shot through the man's jaded almost black green eyes.

"How curious," the man spoke again, but this time he did speak in English. His words were slow and spoken with a heavy accent, as if he had not spoken English in a long time and had nearly forgotten how. "Are you teachers here?" He repeated his earlier words, looking over the others and taking in their dirty states with an arched brow. It drew attention to the scar that stretched across the side of his face, its edges still looking half healed.

Albus brushed off his momentary surprise before he gave the young man a polite smile "I am Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster here," he said before he took a step forward. "May I ask who you are and how you entered here?"

While the old Headmaster offered a polite smile, Salazar could see the wary gleam in the elderly man's eyes. As Headmaster, Salazar knew he could assume that the man would have control over the wards. With this fact, and because he did not know yet about the way times had changed, he would have to be careful with his words. It seemed to him that something large was at stake here in this time and Hogwarts was not as open as it had been in the past. He might have even wondered if it was still a school, but it had to be if there was a Headmaster. He could not admit to his true name, so Salazar gave a polite nod. "My name is Herrick… Evans, Headmaster," he pulled the name quickly out of his muddled head, his pause barely noticed. "As for how I entered, I simply walked through the entrance gate." The wards would not bar a Founder from Hogwarts' grounds. Not even the other Founders could permanently bar him from his home. Yes, they had exiled him and they could have put forth measures to try to keep him out in their time, but it was their animosity that had turned him away. And he knew that Godric would have followed through on his threats. But here? They had no power. And, furthermore, he harboured no ill intent towards the school. The wards would not see him as a threat, he had helped to create them after all. It would not make the headmaster trust him, but it would at least show him in a more positive light.

The Headmaster's smile never dropped, but Salazar could almost see the thoughts going through the man's mind. And the way his eyes twinkled sent a spark of recognition through him. Suspicious, Salazar immediately tightened his mental shields. "I would kindly ask that you stay out of my head, Headmaster," Salazar spoke sternly. "I can understand the need to protect your school, but I do not take kindly to my privacy being violated. If you have a question for me, then simply ask it. I have no reason to hide."

The twinkle in the headmaster's eyes seemed to dim, the attempts at legilimency retracted. It did little to soothe Salazar's suspicions, but he held his tongue as the old man bowed his head serenely. "Ah, you have my apologies, Mister Evans, but one cannot be too careful these days. So if I may ask why you are here? We do not often have visitors here that have come unannounced." He paused then and offered a polite smile, a hidden suspicion behind it. "And if I may see your forearms, if you would."

Salazar hid his puzzlement at the request, but pushed up the sleeves of his tunic to show his arms to the Headmaster. It was not a hard ask to agree to and would do him no good to deny the request. All that was on his forearms was that they were scarred from day to day life and the twin bands of runic markings just beneath his elbows, but were otherwise clean. He rarely showed them off and the way they were exposed made him uncomfortable, but he presisted. "While I cannot fathom why, are you satisfied?" He asked evenly, and as soon as he had a nod of approval, he yanked his sleeves down. Better to follow along for now, but it did not mean he had to like it. "Very good. Now, if you would allow me, I am here to seek refuge at Hogwarts. I find myself without a home and no other place to go. It is my hope that I am not wrong in my understanding that Hogwarts is a safe haven for those who request it," Salazar said quietly.

"No. Absolutely not," a different voice interrupted then and cut off whatever it was that the Headmaster was about to say. "He may not have a Dark Mark, Albus, but I still do not trust him. I do not like the look of him." There was a strange gleam in the man's eyes that unsettled Salazar. There was a deep grief, but also resentment and a strange bitterness. For the life of him he could not figure out why it would be directed towards him as the man did not even know him and he had done nothing to draw his strange ire.

So, Salazar turned his attention towards the man and gave him a shrewd look. "You distrust me so easily," he observed evenly. "I would like to inquire the name of the one who shows me such loathing." As try as he might, he could not stop the way his words came out almost sweetly, his cold emerald eyes glimmering with challenge and maybe just a spark of mischief. He would not take insults lying down as it was one thing that was taken very seriously.

"Sirius Black," the man introduced himself shortly. "You would do well to remember it since it will be the last thing you fear if you try anything." Black words took on a menacing edge.

Black… where had he heard that name before? Oh yes, if had been the surname of one of Gryffindor's young mundane born students. "Sirius Black, you say? Is that not the name of a star?" Though how he even knew this he could not even guess. He had known the Sirius star as Lokabrenna, its name amongst the Norse. Though the name was Latin, taken from the Greek Seirios. Salazar gritted his teeth at the buzzing that seemed to fill his ears like a highpitched whine, an attempt to ignore it. "But I doubt I will be thinking of a Black dog when my time comes," Salazar replied sweetly. His words had Black whipping his wand out before anyone could react. Salazar had anticipated the move, however, and easily deflected the hex sent towards him with a slash of his wand. "You attack me just like a dog would," he taunted. "Do you not wish to challenge me to a proper duel?" He egged the man on even though something deep in his mind was trying to alert him to his folly. He could barely hear it over the static in his ears, but never once  actually cast his own spell. It seemed that the Headmaster had finally had enough though, so it never came down to it anyways.

"That is quite enough, Mr. Evans. And, Sirius, I expected better of you!" Dumbledore chastised them both, his voice stern.

Salazar tucked his wand away and gave Dumbledore a formal bow. "I deeply apologize for my actions, Headmaster," he said as he pushed a properly apologetic tone into his words. "I am a guest in your school so it was wrong of me to goad Master Black." He had been insulted first, but they were not likely to take that into account as they did not know him it all. He should have known better. He did know better.

"That is Lord Black to you, Mr. Evans," Black growled nastily as he shoved his wand into its holster and sat back into his seat.

Salazar barely spared him a glance, though he so wished to coolly reply back with a, "And I am a Founder of this very school, Black, so spare me your pompous airs." He managed to refrain from such dangerous pettiness and instead straightened. But his head hurt and his body trembled with magical exhaustion. It had felt good to anger the man, and gave him the adrenaline he needed to keep on his feet. Godric would have said he was dangerously close to acting like a Gryffindor, but Salazar ruthlessly destroyed that thought. He focused on the old Headmaster instead. "To my chagrin, I have certainly have not given you a decent first impression. However, if you would provide me with sanctuary, I would like to inquire if you have any teaching positions available so I may earn my keep here. I have recently earned a mastery in both Potions and herbalism, while also being somewhat knowledgeable in several other subjects," he stated calmly. "I could take on an assistant position even, if it would help."

He was quickly starting to lose his composure, though. The magical exhaustion was taking a toll on his body. He would like to continue the conversation, but he continued quickly to stop any replies. "I do not expect you shall come to a decision tonight, Headmaster, as you will likely need time to know me better. However, even if you decide to cast me from here, I implore that you at least give me a room for the night. I have travelled a long distance to be here. And, while I suspect you have a great many questions for me, all I ask is that you save the interrogation for later once I have had proper time to rest." He did not want to make a fool of himself more than he already had.

There were several protests at Salazar's words. Most of those gathered wanted to interrogate him further and right away, but the Headmaster raised a hand. He could see the exhaustion that the stranger had been otherwise hiding well so far. "Yes, very well. I will have a house elf prepare a room for you. I only ask that you conduct yourself with proper decorum within they decorated halls," he chastised gently. Salazar knew he had been in the wrong, so he agreed quietly. The old man smiled politely once he had agreed and then inclined his head. "I will hold you to that, Mister Evans. In the meantime, I have one final question for you before you retire."

Salazar did not look too pleased that he had been delayed once more, but acquiesced with a nod of consent. But when the Headmaster bluntly asked his opinion on the war, he could only shake his head in confusion. He could not even pretend to understand what was going on, though he had realized that something was off because of the ragtag group assembled in the Hall. "You will need to pardon my ignorance, but what war do you speak of? I have spent many years in seclusion while I earned my mastery so I am afraid that I am largely unaware of current affairs of our world." Perhaps he should have done his research beforehand. But then, hindsight really could not change the current moment. He was aware of the suspicious looks that were sent his way, but this was not something he could pretend to know. He was an expert liar but even he knew when the truth would serve him better.

It was only after a few moments of silence that a younger man with fiery red hair spoke up. Salazar rather wished he hadn't spoken at all as his first words proved him to be a young man with a rather brazen sense of foolish courage and bravado. It reminded him some of Godric, but only passingly and only because they shared the same bright hair. "You-Know-Who is a madman that is trying to kill all the muggles and anyone else who has supposedly dirty blood," the young man said with a scoff, his words bold. "He has many purebloods on his side because he's finishing the shit that Slytherin started years ago. Says he's Slytherin's bloody Heir or something." The redhead glanced quickly to the side, to a young woman with unruly curls that stood there, as if he was searching for approval. He did not get it as the woman shot the redhead a scathing glare, obviously unimpressed.

Salazar found himself appalled as well, and not just by the words spewed by the younger man and in the manner he had spoken. But that was not the point he needed to focus on. With resignation settled like a pit in his lower belly, Salazar pinched the bridge of his nose. "You mean to tell me that this war is over blood supremacy?" Would the magical community never learn?  He had travelled over one thousand long years into the future, yet was confronted by the very dispute that he had only just left behind! But what truly upset him was that he was also being haunted by his failures as a brother to Cayden. A brother long dead to these wizards, but whose blood had stained his hands a mere few hours ago by his reckoning.

"Dunno how you missed that one, mate. No offense, but you had to have lived beneath a rock to not know a war was going on. This sort of shit's been going down since Salazar bloody Slytherin," the redhead continued on with a scoff, ignoring the affronted expressions of the older magicals.

"Ronald Weasley! Language!" That had come from the young woman who had apparently had enough with her companion. Her cheeks were painted a light pink and lightly puffed with indignation.

The redhead, Weasley, did not seem bothered. "Well, it's true, ain't it?"

"No," Salazar spoke without thought as a headache pressed at his temples. "While what you say is true, that I have - as you say - lived under a rock, it was a consequence of my youth and the way I have lived in most recent years. However, I do want to set one record straight because it is within my knowledge to do so." Salazar turned his gaze fully on Weasley. "The estate I grew up on was an old one, located on an unplottable piece of land in a fen of northern Scotland. It was quite cloistered even. My estate boasted an old library with many very old tomes that have been carefully preserved from long ago. The greatest of these treasures was a series of journals written by one of Hogwarts' Founders, Salazar Slytherin. It took me some time to translate the old text, but I was able to make sense of most of it. While most of it mentions obscure spells, rituals, and a great number of potions, there was included a few personal notes." He would not have his name dragged through the mud. "Slytherin does not mention a wife, nor ever celebrates the birth of an Heir. He does, however, mention a brother." Salazar could practically feel the tension in the air. "If this man claims to be the Heir of Slytherin, he has gotten the wrong Slytherin."

There was stunned silence by the end of his little speech, but Salazar ignored it as he continued to weave lies and truth together. "If these purebloods have delusions of magical supremacy, then they are fools who need a proper lesson in magic. If my studies have taught me anything, then it is that there are certain magicks that can be passed down through families, but it is not the purity of blood that determines how much power one has. According to the journals, Cayden Slytherin himself was a mundane born." Salazar quickly cut himself short then and closed his eyes warily, grief a noose about his heart. "I apologize. I have just recently lost my own brother to the foolishness of blood worthiness and I am in much need of rest." It seemed the issue would forever haunt him with history none too kind to him. His only grief against mundanes had been that they feared what they did not understand. He had seen many children that had died at the hands of their parents because of this, parents believing their children to be devils or changelings. He only hated the mundane mindset, not the mundanes themselves! But maybe things had changed in this time; maybe the mundanes were more accepting. Even if they were not, it did not make wizards better than them. It also did not make mundane born magicals any less than those with long lineages.

Still, these facts alone did not change the fact that he had just stepped into the heart of a war. His many times great nephew, if it were true, was no Heir to the House of Slytherin. Perhaps he had the Family Magick, but that did not make him the Heir. Salazar would see to that as Head of the House of Slytherin. A simple little ritual and he could disown the man from the family line. With a disownment, he could strip the Family Magick away and remove that advantage. Though Salazar wasn't particularly fond of wars, he was no stranger to conflict and this was a little thing he could do. Easing some of his guilt would be just a bonus.

Dumbledore watched Salazar with a wary and calculating gleam in his eyes. "As young Ronald has attempted to say, we are battling against the one known as Lord Voldemort." He paused as several around them cringed. Salazar ignored them but for an unimpressed glance. What grave misdeeds had his great nephew done to make his very name one to be feared? He had a mite bit of research to do it seemed, but for now listened for information on what was the current war of the Wizarding world. "Voldemort's real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, but he has assumed the role of a Dark Lord. His followers are known as Deatheaters." Dumbledore paused, seemingly thinking about how he would continue.

He was interrupted though when a woman in a grey dress and white apron gave out a loud huff. She had been treating some of the injured group, but now she hurried over to Salazar with indignation apparent on her face. "Oh, no you don't, Albus! I've had quite enough now," she huffed out, looking much like an angry cat. "I've held my tongue until now, but I know symptoms of magical exhaustion when I see them! And those clothes may be pristine, but I can see the bruises just beneath that collar of yours, Mister Evans. It is not my business to know the circumstances of your situation, but what sort of Healer would I be if I stood by and did nothing?"

As much as he was amused by her bristling, Salazar was struck by just how much like Helga this woman was. The scolding as she tutted about exhaustion, the way she hovered and mother henned him. But that brought back memories of her rejection, the way she refused to look at him. How disappointed she looked. Salazar quickly yanked his arm out of the healer's hand as his heart squeezed in a vice, unable to temper his sharp movements. "I would ask that you do not touch me again without my express permission, madam. I do not need your coddling as I can deal with my injuries on my own," he said stiffly and turned his back on the healer. "The room, if you would Headmaster." He had had enough and was ready for a bit of privacy, overwhelmed and filled with a bone deep exhaustion. So when the Headmaster finally agreed to let him go and called for a House elf to escort him to his room, Salazar counted his blessings. "You have my thanks." He turned on his heel then, his cloak flaring out in a dramatic fashion that probably would have had Godric giggling as he failed to suppress his laughter.

As he stopped outside the doors, Salazar paused to gather his composure. "Give me a moment," he murmured to his guide. "Be silent." The House elf wrung his hands nervously, but obeyed. As Salazar stood there, the conversation inside was carried to him. It was perhaps on the whim of Hogwarts, but he could hear the staff inside start to argue with the Headmaster.

"We do not know where he comes from, Professor! And given this damn war, we bloody well can't just let him stay here! So what if the castle let him in? He could have tricked it somehow!" Salazar recognized the redhead's voice.

"I don't know, Headmaster. He obviously has many secrets, and he's a bit odd, but I think he's genuine. He has the look of a lonely man. I don't think he'll do any harm. Though it wouldn't hurt to keep him under close watch, wouldn't it? Besides, you had said you were having trouble finding a replacement Defense professor or Potions professor," a young male spoke up. "If he really can prove that he has a mastery, then this is a blessing in disguise. We've had far worse Defense professors during my years as a student."

"Yes, very excellent points, Mr. Zabini," Dumbledore's voice replied. "I shall need to contact the Potionmaker's Guild." With this spoken out loud, Salazar knew that he had work he needed to do before his entire story fell apart. So, having had enough, Salazar turned on his heel then and let the house elf lead the way. He never knew he had missed a large part of the conversation.

"He reminds me of Harry," Hermione admitted in a quiet voice.

"How can you say that, Hermione?" Ron immediately sputtered out in outrage. "That man, Evans, is a complete git! Besides, he's far too old to be Harry, isn't he? Doesn't look a thing like him! And Harry would never call Sirius a dog!"

"Ron is right, Hermione," Sirius' rough voice spoke up, an edge to it that was ragged and pained. "And as much as I love him, Harry was an awkward and tiny little teen. Scrawny. Evans, the bastard, is much taller and is closer to an arrogant Pureblood than Harry's very Gryffindor personality."

"He has the same eyes," Hermione spoke again, her voice weak as if she was grasping at straws.

Ron snorted and immediately shut her down. "Harry had glasses, remember? Besides, Evans' eyes aren't warm and vibrant like Harry's. They're not even the same colour eyes! Evans, well, his eyes are kinda scary actually. Like they don't fit in his young face."

There was a scraping sound as a chair slid across cobblestone. "I don't want to talk about my godson any longer. Especially if you're going to start comparing him to that bastard of a stranger." That was the end of that conversation as soft apologies could barely be heard. "Good. Then let's eat breakfast finally and we can get back to what happened on the raid, yeah?"

Unaware of the end of the conversation, Salazar stalked the somehow familiar halls after the House elf. He had never seen Hogwarts like this, yet the maze like corridors did not confuse him. As he walked, he took in the paintings and the tapestries. During his time there had been some tapestries and a few statues in the keep, but now the sheer number of paintings lining the corridors made his lips curl in his disgust. If this was one thing he did not like about the expansion of Hogwarts, it was this. What had they done to his poor school? The corridors were crowded with all of the paintings, and he could imagine that things did not stay secret in the school for long. He had seen how the paintings moved after all.

After some time he eventually ended up on the fifth floor where the house elf showed him to what was apparently a guest room behind the painting of a withered tree. The house elf quickly bowed and then disappeared, leaving Salazar to wonder how he was supposed to get into his room.

"Do you have the password, sir?" A soft voice suddenly spoke up, startling Salazar from his thoughts. A young girl had hopped out of the tree and was staring at Salazar from the frame. She was dressed in a gown and apron dress that was not unlike the ones that Helga had used to wear.

With a frown, Salazar tilted his head. "I was told that this was where my room was. Was I misled by the house elf?" He asked tiredly. He was in no mood to be run around in circles!

The girl smiled then and shook her head. "So you are the one who will be staying here for the time being. If you wish, please state the password that you would like to use. I will then let you into your rooms." She settled herself against the tree and waited for Salazar to respond. "I am Marilyn, by the way," she added before she fell silent once more.

Salazar was quiet for a time before he nodded his head, as he had decided on a password. "Out of place," he spoke clearly in Gaelic. The girl gave a nod of acceptance and the painting swung forward to reveal the room beyond. Salazar conceded that the paintings were useful for one thing at least. Still, it made him wonder what else had changed. The expansion aside, of course. He was going to have to go exploring at some point. If he could escape inquisitive eyes, he wanted to see if he could find what had become of Slytherin tower. His old chambers should still be sealed if the magic still held so his possessions would still be there. He just hoped the preservation charms still worked.

As he looked around the simple room, Salazar decided that it looked like it hadn't been used in years. Still, it was clean, free of dust, and private. Satisfied, he walked over to the window to take in the familiar view. This, at least, had not changed much so it was calming. Sleep was the larger priority however, so he pulled off his cloak and set it inside the empty wardrobe. After he had taken a seat on the bed, he removed his boots and set them aside. A good sleep was in order before he faced whatever they decided for his future at Hogwarts.

There was, however, one small thing to take care of first. It should not take too much energy, so he did not have to worry about his magical exhaustion, and he had long since learned that it was best to not put certain things off. The disownment of his great nephew was one of them and the Headmaster had given him the wretched man's name.

Salazar conjured up a small wooden bowl before pressing the tip of his wand against his wrist. He murmured a spell beneath his breath, transferring a small amount of his blood to the bowl. Once there was enough, he coated the tip of his wand with his lifeblood. He worked quickly to trace a few runes in the air. With a small push of his magic, the blood hung suspended in the air. When the rune seal was finished, Salazar focused his intent on them. "I, Salazar Slytherin, Head of the House of Slytherin, call upon Magick to hear me. Upon the grounds of perversion to the Family Magick, I name Tom Marvolo Riddle, as is his birth name, as unfit for the House of Slytherin. Let the Family Magick be stripped from him and all ties severed. Tom Marvolo Riddle is no kinsman of mine. As I will it, so shall it be."

The blood runes burned bright before him until suddenly they disappeared in wisps of smoke. There was no backlash to him so he was satisfied that it had worked. Now he could sleep. So he dispelled the bowl and placed his wand aside on the table next to the bed.

He had barely gone any further when a blinding pain struck like lightning across his face. It was akin to the pain he'd experienced before, though focused on his scar. Unable to do little more than cry out in pain, Salazar bent over and grabbed his forehead. Like sensing through a veil, he could feel a vague sort of furious anger that did not belong to him and that made the pain in his forehead spike to a level above what he had felt before. After a few moments, Salazar slumped into blessed darkness against the bed.

Hours later, awareness came back slowly while an ache in his head that made him wonder how he had been able to sleep at all. He really hoped that this was not going to become a recurring trend. The sunlight that streamed into his room was filled with the colours of late evening, though it took his sluggish mind a few moments to recognize this. The last he remembered was that he had performed a very basic disownment ritual. From there, he had felt great pain and a foreign anger. It reminded him of his nightmares, though this had been in a far greater intensity and clarity.

With a soft groan, Salazar sat up slowly and tried to take proper stock of himself. He felt disoriented so he stood up slowly and stumbled into the adjourning room in search of a basin of water to wash his face as it felt gritty and stiff. Surprised by the sink, it took him some time to figure it out. Some instinct drove him towards its purpose, but he fumbled over it for a moment. He was not familiar with the plumbing that must have been installed some time after he had originally disappeared from Hogwarts over a thousand years ago.

As he cleaned up, Salazar glanced up at the mirror then. It was then that he finally took notice of the blood that caked the side of his face. He grabbed a nearby towel with a frown and soaked it in the water before carefully dabbing away the dried blood. His scar felt inflamed as he touched its raw edges. Even after all these years, and attempts at treatment, the scar had never truly gone away. He had long since realized it had been the result of a magical injury, but had never discovered the source. It had never bled before, though.

With a displeased scowl stretched across his lips, Salazar finished cleaning up the blood before he retrieved his wand and potion pouch from the bedroom. From the pouch he grabbed a small jar and opened it. He inspected the herbal ointment before he delicately rubbed a little bit of the concoction into the scar. As the ointment faded into his skin, it helped to clear up some of the redness so it did not look so raw anymore. As he tucked the jar back away, Salazar gave a sigh. When had life gotten so complicated?

As he leaned against the edge of the sink, Salazar pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, eyes closed. He had such a horrible headache again. More headache reliever was in order and he was going to have to brew more when he had the chance at this rate. He downed the last of it before he tucked the pouch away. A simple charm took care of his hair in lieu of a proper brush, the dark strands neatly weaving themselves into a simple braid. He slid his wand back into its sheath before he retreated to the bedroom. Within the desk he found some parchment along with a stationary set. "My dear?" He called out to Hogwarts. "Would you send a school owl my way?" He requested as he sat down at the desk and uncapped the ink. As he felt the school's eager agreement, Salazar smiled fondly and carefully crafted a letter in Latin letters. The start was slow as he had to shake off the cobwebs over his half forgotten writing skills in what was his native tongue, but the knowledge came back quickly. Once the letter was completed, he dried the ink and then folded it. From a pouch, he removed a small precious stone and dropped it into the envelope along with the letter. He also dug out a small potion vial and included it as well. With that done, Salazar sealed it then and closed his eyes as he summoned up his magic. It was underhanded, but he placed a small compulsion charm upont the letter. All it would do was make the reader more open to agreeing to his request.

There was a tap on the window in the next moment, so Salazar stood and walked over. A owl was perched on the windowsill, so he opened it and held the letter out to the creature. "Take this to the Potionmakers' Guild with all due haste," he requested. The owl bobbed its head and took off with a snap of its wings. Salazar watched until it had disappeared off into the distance. The letter was requesting proof of his potionmaking mastery, the potion itself as proof. The gem was a small bribe to accept his request and date it retroactively. Hopefully it would be accepted before the Headmaster attempted to investigate his claims, but it was out of his hands now. With a sigh, he closed the window and turned away.

Then, as no one had yet summoned him, Salazar decided to go in search of the library. Somehow, though he had no memory of these halls, his feet knew the path and he found himself in front of a pair of very familiar doors. Salazar took a moment as he traced his fingers over the carved designs still carefully preserved in the heavy wood. It was more worn now, but he could still remember the day they had put them in. As he closed his eyes, Salazar let himself sink into happy memories of a time that seemed so far away.

((Flashback))

"It seems so plain." Godric had his hands on his hips as he surveyed the large set of wooden doors before them. The four of them had recently completed the special wards over the building that would serve as the school library. Rowena was inside to oversee the installation of the shelves by a craftsman she had commissioned. There were a great many of them in the hope that they would all one day be filled. The building itself was highly vaulted as Rowena would have nothing less than a library that was a work of art in itself.

Salazar let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Godric… You brought me all the way here to tell me that you think the doors to the library are too plain?" He spoke slowly, clearly irritated. He rubbed the bridge of his nose then as he shot his friend an annoyed look. "I had been tending to a potion, Godric. You told me it was urgent."

Godric only gave him an unrepentant grin. With a sigh, Salazar's shoulders sagged. He never really could stay mad at Godric for long. With a shake of his head, he turned to look at the two curved doors that had yet to be set on their hinges and leaned against the outer wall. " Alright, fine. They are plain. Most doors are, Godric," he admitted, though he gave a small quirk of his lips and shot the redhead a sly look at his teasing.

In response, Godric rolled his eyes and let out a huff. "So you say, brother," he said with a dramatic wave of his hands. "But it is the library. It will be a place where students can read books and scrolls on almost anything they can think of. It will be a quiet place where they can study or look up information they cannot remember from their classes. The library is going to be special. The doors have to be special as well. They have to say: Look at me, I guard something wonderful behind me!" Godric waved his arms and Salazar had to dodge an errant hand. "These doors need to stand out so the students will not ever mistake this building for anything else!" He then deflated slightly and gestured towards the doors. "But they are not. They are dull and… and boring."

Salazar did not reply. When Godric looked over to his friend, he took in the man's posture. The tall black haired man had one arm wrapped around his waist and his other hand over his mouth. The man's entire body was trembling visibly. At Godric's affronted look, an amused snigger escaped Salazar's lips before he could not hold back anymore and broke out into loud laughter. "You… You…" He started out haltingly before recovering just enough from his laughter to say, "I never knew you were so passionate about doors, my brother!"

After a good few minutes of laughter, Salazar finally calmed himself and was able to straighten only to find Godric pouting petulantly at him. A light blush decorated his cheeks at being the victim of Salazar's amusement. With one last chuckle, Salazar placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "For all that the door is dull and boring, things are never boring with you around, my brother," he teased with his face completely straight as he said it. With a smirk that broke free though, he dipped his head. "But I will concede your point. So what shall we carve into the doors?" He asked as he pulled out his wand and gave it a lazy twirl. He turned his thoughtful gaze on the doors and lifted his wand. Carefully visualizing what he wanted, Salazar cast a silent spell with a slow twist of his hand. Wood started to curl away from the door near the top of its vaulted planks. When he finished, Salazar lowered his wand to proudly inspect the Futhark runes he had carved into the wood. He had taken a great interest in the runes after they had used them in the school's wards.

Salazar looked to Godric as the other man stepped closer and craned his head slightly to read the runes that had been carved. He seemed to labour over them for a few minutes before he grinned and nodded his approval. "What a splendid idea! Extra protection against fire and other destruction, if I read this right. Rowena will certainly be pleased," the man said as he drew out his own wand. His tongue slipped past his lips and he furrowed his brow in concentration as he cast his own spell.

Again, wood chippings fell away from the door as Godric worked at it. When he finished, he lowered his wand as well with a small huff. "That takes a lot more concentration than I thought," the man grumbled before he smirked playfully in imitation of Salazar. "Well? Runes are both beautiful and functional, but not much of a statement."

Said wizard gracefully ignored Godric's ribbing and instead eyed the doors with an overexaggerated sneer. "Lions? How utterly predictable, Gryffindor. Just what is your obsession with those creatures?" He asked before casting the spell again himself as he was not to be outdone. He carved large serpents that curled around the mirrored rearing lions that Godric had created.

Godric snorted and rolled his eyes. "I could say the same thing for you, brother," he said as he eyed the carving in front of them. "We should probably add in eagles. You know, for Rowena. They are her favorite animal after all, and I am sure that she would want to be included." He cast the spell again so a pair of eagles in flight took shape to hover over the images of the lions. Godric looked pleased with himself as he lowered his wand.

It was Salazar's turn then to roll his eyes. "You cannot forget Helga," he reprimanded playfully before he cast the spell once more to carve the image of a crouching badger resting beneath the paws of each lion, stretched out and waiting. With it finished, Salazar panted softly at the effort it took to carve something so intricate. Still, he had to admit that the carving had turned out rather well for it not being planned out. There was also something of each of them that would be forever preserved, locked in place with a cast of the necessary charms.

He turned to Godric then, a satisfied smile playing about his lips. "We should get the doors hung into place before Rowena throws a fit," he said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Throw a fit, would I?" An amused voice said behind them, making the two young men spin around quickly at having been caught. Behind them in the empty doorway where the doors would be hung, Rowena had her hands on her hips and had an eyebrow raised as she gave the two of them a stern look. She turned her attention to the doors then and appraised them. After a time, she nodded her head with a spark of mischief in her eyes. "I suppose they will do," she spoke in a haughty tone of voice, though she did not try to hide the pleased gleam to her eyes. "Get them put into place, will you? The both of you can then help me get the study tables arranged before you decide to create any more havoc on the poor doors of the school."

The groans of the two men were drowned out by Rowena's laughter as she made her way back into the library. Helga appeared suddenly and brushed past, giggling softly as she had seen the whole thing. Going over to Rowena, she chatted happily with the other woman as the two of them waited for Godric and Salazar to join them. Outside, both of the males grumbled as they set the doors onto their hinges.

((End Flashback))

Heart heavy, Salazar sighed and pushed the doors open with a light touch. He rubbed at his chest absently as he looked around in surprise at just how many books there were. If only Rowena could see this, he thought as a hungry gleam entered his eyes. Salazar headed over to the nearest bookshelf and trailed his fingers over the spines as he thought on how he could spend lifetimes here just absorbing the vast amounts of knowledge. He pulled his hand away reluctantly though and gave a small frown. He needed to restrain himself for now as there were more pressing matters to attend. The first of which was that he needed to get himself up to date on current events and recent history. He had a lot of studying that he needed to do, so he better start. With that in mind, Salazar slipped out his wand and twirled it in a sharp oval above his head. "English history ranging from one hundred years to present," Salazar ordered as he visualized the spell. It was a literary summoning spell that Rowena had created once their library had started to expand. It would summon every book that contained information outlined by the specified boundaries set. It could be as general or as specific as needed.

Salazar lowered his wand and watched as the conjured fluctuating orb of sunset orange light flitted away along the stacks of books. It took a few minutes, but then several books came whizzing past him and piled themselves neatly on the nearby table. After he had gathered the stack in his arms, Salazar headed towards the back of the the library but frowned when he noticed that many of the private reading rooms had been sealed at some time between past and present. He would have missed them completely if he had not already known they were there. Whatever the reason that had seen them sealed, perhaps they had been forgotten about? With a shake of his head, he decided to leave them be and sat down at a nearby table instead. Better to not draw attention to himself by finding long thought lost parts of the school.

With a hefty stack of books to occupy him, Salazar did not know how long he spent reading before a house elf interrupted him. He had been in the middle of a dry piece on the Ministry and recent laws that it had made, so could not say that he was annoyed he his attention had been drawn away. "Master… Master Evans?" The poor creature squeaked, looking afraid to interrupt the man. After he had marked his spot, Salazar looked over to him and raised an eyebrow in question. The house elf's ears lowered and he wrung his hands nervously. "Ah… Pippy was asked to tell Master Evans that dinner is ready…"

Salazar nodded his head curtly and stood up, though he gave the creature a faint smile. Such timid creatures house elves were, but they were not unlike a Brownie. They were much happier when they were not being perceived, but still incredibly eager to help with the duties about a place of residence. "Thank you, Pippy. You may go now as I can find my own way," he dismissed sternly, but not unkindly. The creature gave him a look of relief before he was gone without a trace. Salazar shook his head as he drew his wand and gave it a wave. With it, he sent most of the books back to their proper shelves until only two remained. He gathered up the two that were left, shrunk them down, and then tucked them into his pocket to look over more later.

As he took to the maze of halls, Salazar did find his way without issue just as before. It seemed to be born from an instinct he did not understand as it was not through Hogwarts' bidding that he found the path, though he knew she would be more than happy to help. When he reached his destination, Salazar strode through the doors and took in the entirety of the hall before he made his way towards the staff table. There were a few individuals there, a few he recognized from earlier that very morning. One of the men, a greasy haired man with a sour disposition about him, was seated in Salazar's customary chair. He had to bite back a deep scowl for a brief moment as he sat down in a different seat instead as he had to remember that things were different here. It was still his Hogwarts, but it wasn't the same as the one he remembered from what was just a few mere days for him.

He came out of his thoughts then as Dumbledore greeted him and smiled at him from his seat in the center. "Good evening, Mister Evans," he said with a raise of his goblet. "Wonderful for you to join us. I noticed that you missed lunch. Did you find your room comfortable enough?" The elder wizard took note of the stranger's too stiff posture then. "Are you alright?" He asked curiously as he set down his goblet.

Salazar absently waved a dismissive hand, a self deprecating smile about his lips. "Apologies, Headmaster. My accommodations were fine, thank you," he stated evenly. "If you would excuse me, your Healer was quite correct in that I am recovering from magical exhaustion. I slept most of the morning and midday away before spending the rest of the time in the library once I had found it. No place quite has a library like Hogwarts. You will have to excuse my rudeness for missing the midday meal as I will admit that it had slipped my mind." He spoke the words in a carefully even tone before looked back over to his food. "However, I would ask if I could get directions to a proper brewing lab, if that can be arranged." His headache reliever had not done much for the pounding in his temples as the headache had started to creep back in. He would need a stronger dosage and some proper sleep for any chance to curb the pain. Whatever had happened with the disowning ritual, as it hadn't been magical backlash, had made the headaches worse. It would also give him a chance to show the Headmaster that he did know how to brew advanced potions. Dumbledore inclined his head in response, though the others seemed content to ignore him. As he started on his meal though, a few tried to strike up conversation. Salazar just was not in the mood to want to socialize though, so he politely declined.

Once he had finished his meal, Salazar was about to catch the Headmaster's attention again when the doors to the great hall flew open with a bang. Salazar jumped to his feet in reaction as a man he did not recognize from the night before stumbled into the hall. "Headmaster!" The man called out to the old man as he swayed and nearly fell over as he spoke. The headmaster had already rushed over to the man's side with some speed for a man his age. The greasy haired man was right on his heels, his wand already in his hand.

Though he was not sure if his help would be welcome, Salazar found that he could not sit still. Not when he recognized the symptoms that the young man was exhibiting. He gave the stranger an appraising look as he slid his wand back into its holster. "Cruciatus," he said with certainty as he eyed the way that the blonde man's hands shook. "He has been under the influence of the spell for quite some time, I might add." He pulled a vial from his ever present pouch and quickly joined the three men as the blonde was now on the floor after his legs had given out. Salazar presented the vial to the dark haired wizard beside the blonde. "Here. Have him take this. It will calm the nerves and the shocks from the curse." It was a cocoction of his own design that had multiple uses, particularly the anxiety that several of his snakelings had suffered through.

The dark haired wizard who he had just to learn of his name spared him a suspicious look, but took the vial and sniffed at it. A fellow potionmaker then, it would seem. The man gave a grudging nod and helped the blonde with the potion. Salazar remained close as he watched critically to make sure that the man's shakes subsided and some colour returned to his too pale cheeks. Salazar gave a polite smile then as silver blue eyes focused on him, sharp as mental clarity returned. "Who are you?" The man demanded with a frown then as he was helped back to his feet.

While he did not respond immediately, Salazar looked over the younger man with a critical eye and noted many clues about the blonde wizard. He had the posture of a wealthy upbringing, but now things had turned. He had the vestiges of aristocracy, but was dirty and wore tattered robes. But then, being in the employ of a madman would do that to one's position. "My name is Herrick," he replied shortly before he spared Dumbledore a look from the corner of his eye. "Deatheater? I recognize the robes from a picture in one of the books in the library. The mask too." He stepped back and turned more fully to Dumbledore for an explanation. The actions of the others told him that the blonde was likely a spy of some sort, but he needed to know that Hogwarts was safe. He was not particularly happy that he had been dropped in the middle of a war, but would do nearly anything to protect his precious school. "He is a spy for you and your organization," Salazar decided before he fought back a smile at the surprise barely hidden in Dumbledore's eyes. He waved a hand dismissively. "It mentioned your Order in one of the books, how it had fought against the Dark Lord in the first war. I assumed you would have reestablished it for the current affairs."

Dumbledore gave a nod of his head. "Yes, he is." He paused then before he continued, his voice deceptively light. "I trust that you can keep that to yourself?" Salazar figured that, in Dumbledore's mind, he knew that there was no helping it now. Dumbledore would need to make sure that he would not mention the blonde's status to anyone outside the castle. So then it would only cemented the need to allow Salazar to remain at the castle where Dumbledore could keep a better eye on him, and any sort of communication he may do to the outside.

In a roundabout way, this was an unexpected boon for Salazar. He hid the relief he felt as he silently studied Dumbledore for a time and appeared to debate his options. There was only one thing he could or would do though, so Salazar inclined his head then and slipped his wand from its holster. "Your name?" He inquired of the blonde. Once he had it, Salazar pressed the tip of his wand against his wrist. "I, Herrick, do swear to not speak of Draco Malfoy's allegiances with those who do not otherwise know." His wand tip glowed briefly and branded him with a mark that faded away. "Satisfied?"

As he dusted himself off, Malfoy frowned at the tall wizard that had given him the potion. The blonde gave a curt nod in response before he then turned to the headmaster. "Forgive the lack of privacy, but this cannot wait any longer, Headmaster," he said urgently. He had to take a moment to gather himself, but then Malfoy swallowed thickly. "The Dark Lord…" he trailed off briefly and shook his head. "He was extremely angry. Furious. I've never seen him so livid." He shook his head again before he allowed himself to be led to a seat at one of the empty House tables by the headmaster. He muttered his thanks before he continued. "He called us just after midday without any warning. The timing was strange as he rarely calls a full gathering so early in the day, as you know. He was already furious when we arrived. Who knows how long he had raged before then, but we seemed to be there expressly for outlets of his anger and nothing else. Every single one of us was tortured under his wand. Nothing else came of the gathering and he only finally just released us. He held a small number back, but he did not explain why. As I was not privy to it, I came straight here instead. Something happened and, whatever it was, it was important to him in some way." The young man quieted and reached out to grab a goblet that had appeared, provided by the sallow potionmaker.

As he remained nearby, Salazar narrowed his eyes in thought and turned the news over in his head. Did this have anything to do with the disownment ritual from the night before? It seemed too much of a coincodence, but it highlighted a decidedly disturbing fact. "This dark lord of yours, he has completely lost his reason," he said finally as distaste coated his words. "Certainly not worthy of being a House Heir." This sentence was snarled as if it was a curse, the Gaelic words concealing an undertone that hovered dangerously close to a slip into Parsel. He could not help his anger that this descendent of Cayden, this Voldemort, had been preaching in his name. He had been doing these despicable acts in his name, soiling his name further than it had already apparently fallen. Pride made his anger flame, fury over the fact that this war was more than just blood purity. He would have been angry enough without it, but now it was personal. Something had to be done, or all would fail. Perhaps that was why he was here. Magic worked in strange ways after all, had a will of its own. Or perhaps the Gods themselves had finally stepped in. Perhaps even he was meant to be here to put a stop to the madness. It was perilously close to arrogance, but there had to be something only he could provide to turn the tides of the war. But whatever was the case, he would not allow the name of Slytherin to be dragged through the mud anymore.

Decision made, Salazar turned fully on Dumbledore. He had not wanted to get into this war, but now it seemed he had no choice. Well, he had a choice but he knew which one was the better. The lives of magicals depended on it. His reputation was at stake as well, though perhaps harder to change. If he helped be rid of Voldemort, it may help his case if he ever decided to actually tell them who he truly was. It certainly influenced his decision, and he was not entirely selfless, but it was still the only correct answer. "Headmaster Dumbledore," he spoke grimly and caught the Headmaster's attention. "I would like to know if you would accept my more formal inquiry to become a professor in this establishment." As he waited, he gently brushed his mind against the ever present hum of Hogwarts in the back of his mind. She rose up eagerly, the vastness of her presence a welcome warmth as it wrapped around him. As a founder, he had a few privileges that no one else had and he had a House to return to its former glory. And though he had yet to fully see just how badly the years had treated his House, he knew that he was in for a long journey. And to do that, he needed to be the Head of House. If Dumbledore accepted, then the duties of House Head would be transferred to him. Hogwarts was eager to comply, practically vibrating in anticipation as she waited for the Headmaster.

Not aware of Salazar's silent communication with his school, Dumbledore gave the young man a polite smile. "I still need to verify your abilities as a Potions Master, but I believe it shall be a boon to welcome you onto the staff of Hogwarts. Our current Potions Master will be taking over the Defense against the Dark Arts class and we are in need of a Potions professor on short notice. I would like tentatively accept your employment here at Hogwarts and we shall make the agreement more formal once my inquries had returned without issue."

Though he was not fully out of the woods yet, a sense of relief washed through Salazar. He had been afraid that the headmaster would not agree. After all, the situation was unusual and they had little reason to trust him. Still, after everything that had happened in just a day, they would want to keep an eye on him. So he gave Dumbledore a smile and inclined his head. "I hope I will not disappoint you then, Headmaster. Your Potions Master is welcome to observe my abilities personally and I can provide proof from the Potionmaking Guild." At least, he really rather hoped that would be the case. It was the one thing that his plan currently hinged upon. Still, Salazar straightened fully then and clasped his hands behind his back. "I accept the position with gratitude." His words had Hogwarts surging up gleefully.

He watched then as the sallow faced man made a sudden and aborted motion to grab at his hand. At the movement, Salazar had shifted his gaze to him briefly but turned as if to walk away. He hid a small smirk as the former Head of Slytherin hissed Dumbledore's name and leaned into him. Salazar could take a guess at what was being said, but ignored it as he felt the sudden burn on the back of his wrist. He did not hold back his hiss of pain. There was some pain to have the awareness of the House wards snap into place too, though he had been prepared for it. Still, he cradled his head gingerly as he studied the small mark on the back of his wrist. It had not changed one bit and for that he was thankful, though the ward transfer had not helped his headache one bit. "An anchor point?" He observed out loud and shifted his gaze to the Headmaster. He donned an inquisitive expression then. "Does this happen to every professor?"

Dumbledore turned a calculating eye on the dark haired wizard. "It does not," he said evenly and without giving anything away. "I believe congratulations on becoming the House Head of Slytherin are in order. Unusual for one not a graduate of these hallowed halls to be sure, but not unheard of."

Salazar dropped his hand with a raised eyebrow. "Can Hogwarts actually do that?" He knew it could of course, having written the spell himself. If a more suitable Head could be found, then the transference would take place. As founder of Slytherin House, there was no one better than him. He was just glad that the school agreed, that nothing had been tampered with after his banishment.

His thoughts were broken by the headmaster. "It is not impossible," Dumbledore spoke slowly. "I have never seen such an occurrence before, but I have heard of such a thing happening in the past. If the school deems a professor to be a better fit for a Head position, it can do so." He still watched with a wary eye, but Salazar easily ignored it. Instead, the man nodded tightly with a thoughtful look on his face.

Salazar unclasped his hands then. "Well then, it is an honour to be chosen for such an important task," he said graciously. "I admit that this is rather forward of me, and your hospitality was much appreciated, but if you do not mind I would prefer a room closer to the Slytherin dormitories so I can better get to know my House. They are in the dungeons if the book I read was correct, yes?" He paused then and glanced at the scowling previous Head."If there are chambers normally reserved for the Head, let him keep them. Even if Hogwarts has seen fit to transfer the responsibility of Headship onto me for whatever her reason, I will not turn him out of his rooms." He turned his full attention to the man. "I would like to request the syllabus of your classes in the past and to show you my capabilities when you have the time." He would have to create tests for the students to see where their knowledge levels were currently at, but he wanted to go in with a basic idea so he could compare it with what he had used for his past students.

The potions master ignored him and instead turned to the headmaster. "Albus! You cannot let him go through with this," he burst out, his anger palpable. Salazar barely held back a sigh, as he felt drained and all too ready to escape the Hall. The greasy haired potions master ignored him and continued to rant to the headmaster. "I cannot believe that you will let him just waltz in here and let him become a Head of all things. I was going to tolerate him being a professor, but this is going too far! We have no idea who he is, if he is lying, or what he is capable of. We cannot take such risks and it would instead be better that he should be kicked out of Hogwarts, not allowed to burrow in so deeply!"

The dour man's words struck a chord in Salazar and the man stiffened, his betrayal and banishment from Hogwarts still far too clear in his mind. Salazar clenched his jaw as he turned his burning gaze on the man. "You want to know who I am? Then ask! Do not paint me ill before you have even had the chance to know me,” he said in a scarily calm tone, unable to keep his emotions completely in check. “What can I do about the school deciding to choose me for the Head over you? From what I gather from the Headmaster's words, it is from ancient magic that was set in place long ago. Do you think that I chose this? Again, I cannot say why the ancient magic sees me as a better Head." He easily entwined lies with truth, knowing the best lies were based on fact. "And if you want to know so badly what my abilities are, then why not challenge me to a duel or test me on my knowledge of potions? I have already sworn to share my knowledge, prove I am who I say I am," he sneered at the bat like man, but Snape only silently bared his teeth in anger.

"If you would excuse me. I will find my own way to the brewing labs," Salazar said icily and then turned on his heel before any could stop him. His anger simmered beneath his skin but he managed to gather his emotions back into a more reasonable level. It would be just his luck that he would have a bout of accidental magic if he was not careful, so he needed a way to blow off some steam. Why was it that everyone wanted to kick him out of his one true home? With his emotions burning just beneath the surface, he strode with purpose and the intention of locating an empty room he could either meditate or take his sword to conjured targets. The weapon had remained concealed at his side under a spell when he realized that other wizards did not openly carry such weapons. He would need to leave it in his chambers from now on, however. And once he had let off a bit of steam, he could find the brewing lab just as he had mentioned.

As he walked though, Salazar’s vision suddenly swam and he needed to lean against the nearby wall. His nap had done little for his magical exhaustion and the headache that had continued to build really was not helping either. He had tried to ignore it, the distraction in the Hall doing a part, but maybe he had finally pushed himself too far. With his back against the wall, Salazar took a moment to rub at his eyes and take a few deep breaths before he straightened. His usual dosages of headache reliever would do him no good at this point, especially as he had run out anyhow. Luckily enough he knew a recipe of his own design that would do the trick, and in a reasonably short amount of time. With this in mind, he steeled himself and pushed off from the wall. He had little idea where to go, but his feet seemed to know what his mind did not. He ended up in the sublevels of the school, something that had not truly existed to this extent in his time, and in front of a closed door. 

With a flat palm, Salazar pushed open the door and gave the room a cursory glance. He felt a whisper of magic pass over him, but it was harmless and likely a proximity ward of some sort. He ignored it in favour of the room he had entered. It looked like it served as a classroom with its rows of tables, small cauldrons set up neatly at each station. It would do as only a standard cauldron was needed in the creation of the potion anyways. Salazar silently walked through the rows of desks as he trailed his fingers along the old wood until he stopped at one of the stations on impulse and removed his wand. He swirled the tip of his wand inside the rim of the cauldron so that the air above it shimmered and then crystalline beads of water dripped like rain from an invisible raincloud into the cauldron. He canceled the spell once it had filled enough.

After he had lit a small blue flame beneath the cauldron, Salazar went over to the ingredients cupboard and opened it up. He skimmed through the school’s stock of ingredients and chose carefully the ones that he needed. Back at his station, he kept a close eye on the water as he worked to prepare the ingredients. Once the water was at a temperature just before it would boil, Salazar carefully sprinkled in the first powdered ingredient. He stirred it once counterclockwise and pulled the spoon back out to set it aside. It needed to remain like that for a time, so he returned to preparing the rest of the ingredients.

One by one he added the ingredients, instinctively knowing exactly when to go on to the next step. Godric had often teased him, saying that he could have made complex potions in his sleep. It had always irritated, and secretly pleased, Salazar. Breaking out of his thoughts then, Salazar added in the last ingredient before he stirred it carefully an exact number of times. As he removed the stirring rod, Salazar quickly cast an immediate cooling charm before he doused the flame beneath the cauldron to set it. It could be immediately bottled, so he prepared his vials and placed three of them into his pouch before he downed the fourth one. As the cool relief spread through him, Salazar leaned forward against the table and lowered his head with a sigh. He allowed himself to relax and closed his eyes, though he never once lost awareness of his surroundings. Once the pain finally blessedly faded away, he allowed himself another sigh, this time in relief.

"Was that to your approval?" He spoke out loud into the silence in the next moment. Lifting his head, Salazar turned his gaze over to the door where Snape had entered some time near the beginning. "I knew you would come as soon as I felt I had tripped the wards you put in place," Salazar commented lightly as he started to clean up his work space. Once done, he turned to look at the other man again. Leaning against the long counter, he was the image of poised grace. "It is a relatively simple potion, but did it meet your approval?" He knew better than to admit to creating it as he doubted that the other man would likely not believe him.

Snape sneered softly and brushed past before going over to his desk. "It was adequate," he stated making Salazar resist the urge to roll his eyes. It was like conversing with one of his younger years. But he always got through to them in the end. It only took a bit of patience, and stress relieving when safely away from his students.

With a snort at his thoughts, Salazar pushed away from the counter and moved closer to Snape. "I would like your notes, if you have them available. I will then leave you be and you will not have to deal with me the rest of the night," he offered as he stopped in front of the man’s desk. Snape tilted his head with a sneer before he dragged open a drawer of his desk and neared shoving several notebooks into Salazar's arms. Taking them, the founder raised an eyebrow. "Touchy," he said lightly, but held his tongue further as he turned and headed towards the door instead. He paused though and looked over his shoulder, a deceptive show of having his back to the man. Salazar was not as vulnerable as he pretended to be. "I am sure that you were a good House Head," he said without sarcasm. "And I know that it means your students will have trusted you. Especially since they have no one else to turn to. I would not mind it if they continue to go to you if they need it as I will not break that trust. However, I only ask that you defer to me if it threatens the well-being of any of our students. They are my responsibility after all." He spoke before he slipped out the door without waiting for a response. Snape said nothing else, however, and did not try to stop his departure.

With his head clear, Salazar wandered the halls until he arrived back at the room they had given him temporarily. He would see to new chambers in the morning. For now, he was much ready for some more sleep. He dropped off the journals first on the single small desk so he could go over them later. He had plenty of research ahead of him and much digging to do. The first of which was that he needed to see for himself the state of affairs in the wizarding world, beyond the research that he had already started on and was not from the mouth of the biased staff. He had learned some of the history after he had left, but now he needed to continue on to more current affairs. Also, on a separate topic, it would also help if he could obtain some new clothes. That part would be more difficult as he had no money. He might have something of value in his old rooms, but that was if he could get to them later. If they still stood. Though he doubted that Hogwarts would allow the destruction of his old chambers, it did not mean that they were in the same spot.

But that was a problem for the morn. So, with a sigh, Salazar pulled off his clothing until he was left only in the loose trousers he had been wearing. Making sure that everything else was neatly put away, he then headed into the adjourning room to wash his face in the sink. Inspecting his scar in the mirror, he frowned thoughtfully and decided he needed to put more ointment on it after he took care of rather pressing matter. He straightened up from the mirror and then tended to the rest of his nighttime routine.

Once he had finished in the bathroom, Salazar headed back into the bedroom and grabbed his wand. Hogwarts might be his home and the safest place he had ever remembered feeling, but he was still in an unknown world to his own so he cast a few enchantments and simple wards that would alert him to anything that might happen. He barely had enough magic left without falling to dangerously low levels, but Salazar felt that they were necessary. Once they were in place, Salazar gratefully sunk into the bed and pulled the covers over his body. Closing his eyes, it didn't take him long to drift off into dreams of stealing golden eggs from dragons and battling against large stone statues across a giant game board.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

Once he had finished in the bathroom, Salazar headed back into the bedroom and grabbed his wand. Hogwarts might be his home and the safest place he had ever remembered feeling, but he was still in an unknown world to his own so he cast a few enchantments and simple wards that would alert him to anything that might happen. He barely had enough magic left without falling to dangerously low levels, but Salazar felt that they were necessary. Once they were in place, Salazar gratefully sunk into the bed and pulled the covers over his body. Closing his eyes, it didn't take him long to drift off into dreams of stealing golden eggs from dragons and battling against large stone statues across a giant game board.

Chapter Three

When he woke the next morning, Salazar found a headache pounding away in his skull yet again. He sat up with a groan and gently rubbed at his eyes. After he had swung his feet over the side of the bed, Salazar sat there a few moments to gather his bearings. He gave a sigh then and rose to his feet before he made for the adjacent bathroom. He figured it would take some time to get used to the plumbing, but it did have its uses. It was certainly more sanitary than the chamber pots and privy holes he was accustomed to, at any rate. The shower had already proved to be far better than a cleaning charm as well.

The shower, blessedly, left him feeling refreshed and marginally better, which was just another positive. Still, he was going to need another headache reliever if he planned to function at all. The recurring headaches were likely from how depleted his magical reserves were at the moment. Still, he would need to be careful about how much potion he took for the headaches as too many in a short amount of time would cause his magic to build up an immunity against them. And with his headaches, he could deal with some magical exhaustion pain if it meant the potions would remain effective. Just one more dose to take the edge off, then he would not be able to take any more than that for at least another day. That being said, he needed to allow his magical core to recover. Even the use of the most basic of magic was out until his core replenished enough and he had been using magic without thought, even if it was simple spells and barely a drop on the surface of what was normally a lake. Though thankfully, as he was at a magically saturated site such as Hogwarts, it would help.

So, with these thoughts in mind, Salazar fetched one of the vials of potion and downed it with a grimace. The effect was immediate, so he stashed the empty vial away and headed over to where he had left the potion master’s journals. Salazar made himself comfortable in front of the desk and opened up one of the books. The name Severus Snape was scrawled inside the cover and he thought the name felt just as unyielding as the man it belonged to. With a shake of his head, he turned to the first page and began to decipher the neat handwriting even as he trailed his fingers over the spindly letters. He started to take down notes on the stationary provided within the desk, but needed to call a house elf to request some more writing materials. Engrossed in his work, Salazar spent a good two hours on the journals before the sun had even risen. He was used to the early mornings as he had often used them for research or to correct student work, so this was a rather normal start to his day.

By the time he decided that he was close to a good stopping point for the time, his stomach having made itself known, he had decided a number of things based purely on the work before him. For one, he could tell by the Potion Master’s work that he had definitely earned his title. Some of the shortcuts - done in red across the original recipe - that he had devised were nothing short of groundbreaking. However, one Professor Severus Snape was not a good teacher. Salazar knew well enough that a professor needed a firm hand when it came to teaching magic to young children. Potions especially were a subject best learned under supervision because of their volatile potential. Even the most innocent of concoctions could have disastrous results if not properly handled. It was fairly obvious, however, that Snape did not like children. Side notes in the margins of the journals were scathing remarks on the perceived competency of various students. He ignored these, not about to take them without a grain of salt and not wanting to step into classes with preconceived views.

Salazar had also noticed the apparent lack of instruction past the potions and their uses as these were outlined, but the particulars of ingredients were glossed over. He had found nothing about practical techniques outside a few planned work assignments about their importance, but this would not guarantee that the students would learn the material. From what he could see, he would need to devote an entire lesson on the importance of ingredient preparation alone. Even the older years were going to need to be brought back to some basics as they were not to the standards he would prefer. There were woefully few students in his upper year classes as it was, but he would do what he could to encourage interest in the art. But, as it were, there was much work ahead of him to completely rework the curriculum up to his standards. The logical thing to do was to start with the theory of potion components, and preparation techniques, before they moved on to the actual brewing processes. It would give them a better foundation at least and perhaps help prevent accidents. It was better too if they were to discuss the topics rather than being assigned work outside class in the hope they would learn something. Important information could be missed if the students were left on their own to find answers, and how would a child correct what they had gotten wrong in an assignment if it wasn't explained in a way that was eay to understand?

"You always lose yourself in your thoughts, Salazar," a sudden voice hissed in his ears, though Salazar only rolled his eyes as he tried to focus on the work in front of him. He opened a new journal and spread it out in front of him to make a few quick notes. He was just about finished for now, he supposed, but he needed to add a few more things before he forgot them. But, when he did not answer, the voice hissed in his ear again. "I am not your caretaker, you insufferable wizard." The tone was almost fond, if a bit exasperated. "But do not think that I cannot sense your core levels, Salazar Slytherin. I have held my silence long enough, I should think given the current situation. Have you forgotten me? I have had quite enough."

With an exasperated sigh of his own, and maybe also a touch of fondness he would not admit to, Salazar sat back in his chair and brushed his fingers along the cool metal of the silver torc that was wrapped around his throat. The torc was twisted delicately in the shape of a snake, while the head rested upon one collarbone with the tail coiling across the other. It pulsed with familiar magic, the only reason why he had not worried if his familiar had survived the travel between time. With a murmured release of magic, the rigid metal rippled and expanded to give way to the sleek form of his familiar Eolas. As the magic dissipated, the beautiful creature about his shoulders took a moment to gather himself before he lifted his head to level Salazar with a stare that the man could see from the corner of his eye. The magical snake was silent for only a moment more as his tongue flickered out to smell the air. "I suppose I will be unable to speak with you while you are here?" The snake spoke with a carefully disinterested air as it unwound itself from across Salazar's shoulders and moved down his arm to coil instead on the desk.

Salazar nodded as he stood up from his chair with a groan. After having remained in one spot for so long, his back did not thank him for it. "I know you understood the conversations before," he hissed softly as he switched to Parsel. The magical creature had the ability to understand each spoken language, and had occasionally served as a one-sided translator when it was needed. Salazar groaned again then as he stretched out his stiff muscles. "These people are in the middle of the war and are suspicious enough, as I am sure you can understand. I would rather not bring their attention further onto me. The current Headmaster is likely to keep a close eye on me as it is." He only felt relatively safe speaking in the room because Hogwarts reassured him that it was completely private. Nearly anywhere else and he would be unable to outright speak to Eolas in Parsel. The need to hide a Family Magick did not bode well for the state of affairs in the magical community, however.

Still, Parseltongue was a trait owned solely by the Slytherin line within the English Isles and it was well known that the current self proclaimed Dark Lord had familial ties. The disownment would have stripped the unworthy man of the Family Magick, but he was the only known Speaker in the Isles in quite a number of years if Salazar's research was to be believed. The only family with the Magick, the Gaunts, had died out sometime around 1943 and they had not had a good reputation. So unless he wanted to claim a tie to the Gaunts, he had no way to properly excuse his own ability if it came to light. He did not need to draw undue suspicion towards himself. Not when Hogwarts contained the best resources that might return him to his proper time. That is, if he decided to pursue such a thing. What was left for him there anyways? His friends had betrayed him against all reason, and had expelled him from his home. It was here, in this new time, that just maybe he could make a difference. Just maybe he could return his House to its former glory while searching for answers in what was now the past. But the search for answers was a project best left until after he had prepared for the arrival of the students in seventeen days' time.

Yet, before all else, breakfast was in order. So Salazar finished readying himself for the day and left for the Great Hall. He left the door open long enough for Eolas to slip out after him, the snake quick to disappear into the shadows. The creature was likely eager to familiarize himself with the new passages and hidden corridors of the school. Salazar left him to it and instead ventured down to the Great Hall where he took his spot quietly. As he served himself some food, he mused over his plans for the day. The largest issue as the moment was that he had little by way of possessions except for that which he currently had on his person. That problem was easily solved if he could find the entrance to his old chambers as they were likely to have moved. If they were even still there at all. If they were still intact, then it was a simple matter of shrinking everything he needed into a chest. After he recovered from his exhaustion, of course. If his things were not intact, then perhaps he could request an advance from the Headmaster. But he would tackle one problem at a time.

He was broken from his thoughts though when the Headmaster suddenly greeted him. "Did you sleep well, Professor Evans?" He inquired of the new professor, a deceptively warm smile curving his lips. The cool blue of his eyes seemed to sparkle, but Salazar could not feel any intrusion upon his mind. Still, he regarded the Headmaster with a sense of caution.

"I slept well enough, Headmaster. I wanted to thank you for your hospitality so far," he said lightly as he turned back to his food.

Dumbledore hardly seemed put off by the subtle dismissal and merely continued to smile as he picked up his goblet. "That is good to hear." He paused then as if he had to gather his thoughts. "But I do have to admit that there is something I am curious about," the old man said with careful nonchalance. "You will have to forgive my nosy inquiries, but I am sure you will understand my caution. Especially if we are to ensure your employment here. I simply, if I can be frank, find it rather odd that you truly have very little knowledge of the current war."

Salazar turned his eyes on Dumbledore in response to the question that was not a question. Everything was still and quiet, as if the very walls held their breath in anticipation for his answer. He had to be careful here as he had been lucky enough for the Headmaster to be so accommodating so far, but he knew he toed a very fine line. The circumstances were just enough in his favour that allowed him his new position here, but it was still a time that he knew very little about. There were still customs that had to be navigated and a wealth of changes that could trip him up. He also did not appreciate that the Headmaster would hold his tenious employment over his head in his quest for answers. He did understand, but he did not have to like it.

Still, he needed to answer. So, Salazar took a moment to gather his thoughts and relaxed back in his chair. "I truly was unaware,” he said finally. He paused another moment before he sighed and raised his eyes towards Dumbledore. “I was raised in a small household. My mother died when I was young and my father followed not long after. For a time, it was just my elder brother and me. We were young, innocent of the world,” he said while he easily spun truth and lies together. After all, Godric had been older and had been like his brother. It had been just the two of them for a time. “We were the only family each other had and no ties to the outside world but for what our books taught us. The family estate was large and provided a wealth of knowledge that we took advantage of. When I was old enough, I petitioned the Potionmaster’s Guild and worked to earn my Mastery in the privacy of the estates laboratory. We barely left the Estate but for the small community nearby, if only so that we might eat. We were rather insulated.”

Dumbledore looked pensive, but seemed to accept his explanation for now. "I am sorry to hear of your parents, Professor Evans," he said with pity. "You will have to excuse my further inquiry, but I must also ask about what led you here to Hogwarts. You had mentioned the passing of your brother?"

Salazar hesitated as his brow creased. He had turned his gaze away from Dumbledore and instead watched the small ripples across the surface of his drink. How much should he admit to? To stick to the truth as much as possible? Though it may not paint him in a good light, it would ring true and not give them reason to suspect him for something they could not guess. Better to be suspicious of what they knew than what misunderstandings they could come up on their own. “Perhaps the pressures of loneliness and seclusion harmed my brother’s mind,” he said finally in a soft voice as he now thought not of Godric but of Cayden. “A festering seed lodged deep and undetected…” Salazar trailed off then and raised his eyes to look at the Headmaster. “We fought because he was so sure of his delusions. Our home fell in the aftermath and he with it. I have always known that Hogwarts had been a place of asylum in the past and I could think of no other place to turn to for sanctuary. So I ran.”

As much as Salazar could hope that he would be released from any more questions, he could not say he was surprised when Dumbledore’s gaze turned colder. “You killed your brother?”

While it was not exactly something done without consequence even in his own time, Salazar had the feeling that death here was held in a different regard. “I fought my brother in defense, yes, but I am no kin killer, Headmaster,” Salazar stressed as he met the old man’s gaze without a flinch. “I lost my brother to his own delirium, long before I even realized he was gone.”

Salazar stood then, his appetite having fled him. "If you are done with your questions and dredging up my recent past, then I will take my leave." He kept his voice carefully even, though allowed emotions to tighten his throat. "I am sure you would understand that I cannot take anymore of your questions now in good humor as it is still much too painful. If you can allow me that, then you must excuse me. I have a few errands to take care of in preparation for my classes, anyhow." Dumbledore thankfully did not put up any protest, so Salazar did not hesitate to turn on his heel and make a quick exit. Before he stepped through doors though, he left one last parting comment. "I am surely not the only one who has lost someone to fanaticism, am I? It is the very core of the war, is it not? Even unaware, there is death in war." The headmaster's questions had hit far too close to home and he needed distractions to bring his emotions back under control. He could not truly fault the man for his inquiries, he continued to tell himself. However, he felt like he had been a boiling cauldron from the moment he had arrived in this time, where even the slightest inattention would mean the cauldron would boil over.

As he slipped through the doors, Eolas appeared from the shadows with a soft hiss. With no one around to see, Salazar picked up his familiar and let him wrap around his shoulders. A quick notice-me-not spell hid Eolas from view as Salazar left the castle and started off down the road towards Hogsmeade. As he walked, Eolas’s tongue flicked gently against his cheek before the serpent spoke. "Hogwarts has certainly grown, Salazar. She is a curious thing too, much more sentient than she used to be.” Salazar softly hummed in agreement, but let Eolas continue without saying anything himself. “It will take me days to explore all of the new passageways and hidden nooks.” Salazar could feel his familiar’s excitement for the challenge, however, so he only chuckled in amusement. The tightness in his shoulders had already started to unwind.

“I happened upon a group of the inhabitants,” the serpent said carefully then. “I heard them speak of you.” When he did not continue, Salazar raised an eyebrow and gently prodded at Eolas’ tail. The serpent hissed softly, but then continued finally. “No need to get so pushy, wizard. They did not have nice things to say about you, of course. One spoke of turning you out of Hogwarts, that you were obviously a spy for a man who must not be named. They used your appointment as Head of Slytherin House as proof, stating that the previous Head was an outed spy for the unnamed man. Said man was going to need another spy on Hogwarts’ grounds, so it must be you.” Eolas gave an irritated hiss. For all the grumpiness that the serpent tended to exude, he was fond of Salazar. “That wizard was the most vocal. A female told him off, but the others seemed to agree that you have some sort of ulterior motive even if you being a spy was rather unlikely." Salazar inclined his head as Eolas settled back down.

"Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, hm? That might be a particularly true adage," he mused out loud to himself in Gaelic, though he was still quiet. “I represent an unknown, and a potential ally. The Headmaster will want to keep me close. The wards let me into Hogwarts so it paints me in a favourable light, but he does not know exactly where I stand. I do not blame him. " A small smirk curled over his lips before he glanced down at Eolas. "Ah, pardon me… I was just speaking my thoughts out loud," he spoke, earning a small hiss of amusement for his troubles.

As he stepped through the gates into Hogsmeade, Salazar could not help but look about in wonder once more. When he had arrived at the gates origionally, his eyes had been on Hogwarts and not the village behind him. Now he was able to take in the way that the little village had changed very little over the years, though was perhaps a bit larger than before. There were shops in some of the old houses, but the buildings themselves were the same, if only a bit more worn by age. Magic raised dwellings in the blink of an eye, after all. He could not help but remember then the feisty young boy, one of Helga's little badgers, that proclaimed far and wide that he was the founder of the village since he had given it its name. In truth, the village had sprung up where it had because of the school as magical families wanted to be closer to where their children were being taught. Besides that, it took more than just students and teachers to run a boarding school. But Hengist's name for the village had stuck and Salazar was pleased to see that the village had stood the test of time. And though he was curious to see what had changed, Salazar knew he would need to explore it at a later time.

The green eyed wizard gathered a bit of his magic and apparated away, only to reappear again in the Black Forest that surrounded a good portion of the school. The small grove he had appeared in was protected by magic so it was also unchanged. It was a good thing too as the magic of the forest seemed to have warped and grown over the years like a wild thing left unchecked. The forest had been old even in his time, an ancient stone circle at its very center. Salazar wondered if this was the source of the wild magic. It left him with an uneasy feeling, but it was something that would require investigation later. For now, it was not at the top of his priorities. So, Salazar turned his back on the forest depths and approached the entrance to a small cave. Weathered runes glowed at his approach when they sensed his magic. He brushed his hand against the stone and they flickered to let him pass. Rough hewn steps appeared before him and he descended them with a small conjured blue flame in his hand to light the way.

At the bottom of the stairs was another archway that glowed with inscribed runes as he approached them. He ran his hand over the wall once more and they flickered to let him pass. From there he walked along a long carved out corridor. He could hear the flow of water in the distance and came upon an open chamber after a time. The tunnel had been carved out by magic, but this chamber was a natural one and had a large reservoir fed from the loch above. The waterfall had changed some since he had last seen it as the constant run of water had carved out the stone it flowed over. The reservoir too was much larger than he remembered it. 

The natural bridge that spanned over the chamber provided a perfect view into the depths of the underground lake. The water had risen enough that Salazar thought that he might have to enchant the bridge like he had done the common room windows so it would not flood. But, again, that was a problem for another time. He paused in the middle of the bridge though when he spotted movement in the water below. Two small forms appeared on the rocks and Salazar could not stop his smile when he recognized them. "How fares the water?" He called out in Scottish Gaelic to the small creatures. Asrai were water spirits that could not stand the sun. The underground lake was fed by the loch, so provided the perfect home for these spirits. They lived long enough that he thought he recognized a handful of them as more appeared, though even they had aged.

The Asrai tittered in excitement and a couple scurried up the large stones to reach the bridge. Their translucent skin shimmered in the light of his fire, their green hair dripping water onto the carved railing of the bridge. "Salazar! We thought you lost when you did not visit," one of the spirits said with a pout. Asrai were long lived, so time was a different concept to them. "Did you bring us any treats?" The other spirit asked eagerly, but gave a pout when Salazar gave an apologetic shake of his head. After nearly a thousand years, he had not even been sure if the Asrai would still be in the pool. He would need to visit again though and bring some sweets.

"I will bring some next time," he promised. "I must be on my way now. I will visit again soon!" They let him go, though both pouted and huffed even as they waved goodbye. Salazar chuckled in amusement, glad to see that some things had not changed.

The end of the corridor was a blank wall of stacked stone. When Salazar placed his hand on the wall, a runic array flared up and the wizard breathed a sigh of relief. The passageway was one he had originally constructed in the event that he needed to sneak his students out of the school. With the growing unrest between magicals and the mundane, he had felt it necessary in case there was an attack. He was the only one aware of the passage as it had originally emptied out near the Slytherin common room and his old chambers. With the expansion of the school and the relocation of his territory, he had been worried that the entrance would no longer work. The array worked though, so it meant that the entrance was still accessible. A few words of Parseltongue had the stones folding in on each other to create an archway. He closed it behind him with a hiss and a wave of his hand, the stones gliding together back into a seamless wall.

The nature of the magic meant that his old chambers were likely still close. The array on the door should react to his touch, just as the hidden doorway to the passageway had done. So, Salazar made his way through the corridors silently with his fingers lightly pressed against the stone walls. He had not gone far when he spotted an empty alcove ahead, which only gave him brief pause. When he placed his hand on the wall, the array shimmered into view. The entrance spot had been moved, but the runic array was still intact. With hope warm in his chest, Salazar summoned up some of his magic and guided it along his pathways to his hand where it pooled in his palm. In reaction, the illusion of the wall shimmered away to reveal the heavy wooden door beyond.

Eolas hissed a warning of someone’s approach along the corridor, so Salazar quickly entered the room beyond and erected the illusion once more. Safe for the moment, Salazar turned back around to investigate. It was strange to think that he had been in this room only a few days beforehand. Everything was placed where he remembered them, though it was clear that the preservation charms had started to fail. While everything looked to be in good condition from how he remembered it, there was a buildup of a good layer of dust. That was easily remedied, though would need to wait until his reserves had built back up again if he wanted to do the work himself. The flame in the tunnel had been earth magic channeled through his pathways, but he had needed to draw upon his own magic to open the doorways. Nothing in the magnitude of actual spellwork, or course, but he might pay for it later by way of yet another headache.

Safe in the knowledge that no one knew he was here, Salazar approached his desk and gently brushed his hand over the open cover of a journal. He coughed as the dust rose up and he waved a hand in front of his face in an attempt to clear the air. Perhaps there was an easier method? “Hogwarts? Would you be a dear? The dust is out of control,” he spoke in Gaelic, a more comfortable tongue. The school’s eager presence gently pushed against his mind in her version of a hug before the room seemed to shake around him. When the room settled, the dust had been cleared. “Thank you,” he said aloud before he turned back to the room. 

First things first would be clothing. Cleaning charms could only get him so far and he was eager to change into something different. Not that he owned a large wardrobe anyhow. Still, he was relieved to change into new pants and an embroidered green tunic. Salazar took a moment to gently run his fingers over the thread of the embroidered cuffs before he drew his wand. It was quick work to pack his few articles of clothing into a wooden chest along with his spare boots.

Once his clothing was packed away, Salazar looked around him. He had to decide what to take with him as he could not feasibly take everything with him. The books and scrolls he had contributed to the library would now be lost to time as he could not realistically take them back now if they even still existed after all this time available to students, but he could take with him the few that had been left in his room. There were a few other trinkets too that he would loathe to leave behind. Even shrunk there was only so much space in the chest and a few items held too many memories for him to want to deal with them anytime soon. So he sorted through what he wanted to bring with him and promised himself he would deal with everything else at a later time.

Once he was satisfied that he had everything that he needed, Salazar gathered up Eolas and draped him over his shoulders once more. He then picked up the chest and left the way he had entered. Once he was back in front of the castle gates, he tucked the chest more securely beneath his arm and let Eolas wander off on his own. His familiar was still eager to find new entrances to the castle and who was he to deny him? Being seen with a snake familiar would not show him in a good light anyways. So he let Eolas go on his way and made the trek back up to the school on his own.

Salazar slipped through the front doors only to encounter an older woman that he had seen only in passing as she tended to be at the Headmaster’s side during the few meals he had attended, though had been absent from his initial arrival. He had not yet been properly introduced to her, though she seemed to have an opinion on him already. Her expression was shrewd as she looked him over with an unimpressed hum. "Retrieved your things, then?" She asked him with a barely hidden note of curiosity that bordered on outright suspicion.

Salazar inclined his head in agreement rather than snipping back in defense. “Yes. I am sure you are aware that I had brought little with me when I arrived as I did, though I can imagine that I can be forgiven such an oversight given my circumstances," he said with only a thin film of chastisement to colour his words.

“Oh, my!” The older witch's eyes widened and her severe expression seemed to melt away, softening the lines of her face. She had the grace to look mildly sheepish about her actions. It was an expression he thought was strange on her, though this was the first time he had actually spoken to her. He had to give her credit then as the woman gathered herself back up quickly and replied with barely a hint of a blush. “Oh, yes, of course. You will have to forgive me, Mister Evans. After what you said you went through, you can be quite forgiven for your thoughts left in other places.” The witch cleared her throat then and seemed to finish gathering her wits. She drew herself up and offered a hint of a smile. "Oh, where are my manners? I have not yet had a chance to introduce myself, have I? I am Minerva McGonagall. Professor of Transfiguration, Deputy Headmistress, and Head of Gryffindor House. How do you do?” There was a twinkle in her eye that spoke more of hidden mischievousness rather than the legilmancy powers that the Headmaster possessed.

Salazar gave a sly smile and a slight tilt of his head. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said in a fluid switch to Gaelic. While her accent was coloured enough by those of the English wizards around her, Salazar had found a refreshing familiarity in her speech the longer they had spoken. The language would have evolved over time, but it was familiar enough that Minerva McGonagall's severe features completely softened in surprise.

A simple expression of joy lit up her eyes and she closed the distance between them as she finished her descent of the main staircase. "Well, I'll be. I thought I had recognized your accent!" She visibly contained herself then and cleared her throat. "I am on my way to a meeting with the Headmaster as I cannot escape my duties, I am afraid. But I must invite you to join me for tea some time. I can imagine there are a few things I can share with you that will make your interactions with the students that much easier. Especially as a fellow Head of House," she spoke in rapid Gaelic in a way that told of how glad she was to have another who spoke the language.

"I might just take you up on the offer, Professor," Salazar said honestly. If the Slytherin Head was on good terms with the Gryffindor Head, then perhaps it would help promote unity and act as a first step in improving his House's reputation.

"Oh, please. Call me Minerva," the witch responded and Salazar could only accept.

She retreated with a final eave and left behind a bemused Salazar. He huffed out a small laugh in the empty hall before he set out for the guest chambers he had been given. It stood to reason then that he would likely be finally transferred closer to the Slytherin Common room at some point, so he didn't bother to unpack completely once he had arrived in his room. He did, however, pull out his journals so he could compare them with the ones he had received from Snape. With a quill in hand, he hunched over the desk and ignored Eolas as he appeared. His familiar was content to coil into a warm patch of sunlight without a word.

Yet, as the hours passed with little change, Eolas unwound himself and instead made a nuisance of himself by draping over Salazar's parchments. The man blinked out of his focused state with a displeased tsk and he reached out to remove the snake. Eolas puffed himself up and gave a drawn out hiss before he snapped at his wizard in drawn out syllables. "You silly human… Do I have to monitor your every moment, telling you when to eat? If you do not hurry, you will surely miss the midday meal."

Salazar shot a glare at the snake, though it lacked much heat. With a smooth motion, he was on his feet and had his robes settled about his shoulders out of habit. "It would not be the first time I have taken a meal at my desk, you know," he said as he clasped his robes. "I will also say that I am quite used to only two meals a day, though I will concede that a meal now would benefit my recovery." In his own time, it was the habit to eat a morning meal and an evening one only. Wizards were unique in that they would offer a midday meal, but that was because the energy requirements for magical beings were greater than that of mundanes. Mundane born students often skipped this extra meal at first until they had realized it benefited them. He himself had sometimes skipped this meal in favor of his work. But Eolas was right in that this was one he should not miss.

So, the wizard turned on his heel and made the familiar trek through the corridors to the Great Hall. There he found himself an empty seat and started in on his meal. All the while he ignored the distrustful looks that many of the others shot his way. Such things would pass in time as long as he did not bring undue attention upon himself. Minerva though was already seated next to the Headmaster and she gave Salazar a nod, a small quirk of her lips lessening the severity of her expression. Salazar responded in kind with a feeling of fondness that he could not explain.

The conversations around him ebbed and flowed with barely any interest to him until the man in the adjacent seat glanced up at him. "It has been remiss of me, but I have yet to introduce myself. I am Blaise Zabini," he said. "I would also say former Slytherin student, but, well, I am sure you understand." For all that it was only a school House, a Slytherin was always a Slytherin.

Salazar gave the dark skinned man an appraising look. "Herrick Evans," he responded finally with a small inclination of his head. Zabini appeared to be a few years younger, though the exact number was difficult to gauge. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he finished formally.

Throughout the rest of the meal, Zabini kept him engaged in light conversation. He had a humor that Salazar could appreciate, though the jade eyed wizard was still reluctant to invest too much of himself. Luckily, Zabini seemed to understand the unspoken sentiment. So once the empty dishes had disappeared, Salazar stood up and turned to the younger man. "If you are not busy, Master Zabini, would you perhaps care to accompany me to the Slytherin Common room to continue this conversation?" He extended the invitation with a polite smile.

Zabini regarded him for a moment before he gave a decisive nod and climbed to his feet. "I don't have anything to do until later in the afternoon," he said as he rounded the table after Salazar. "Might as well take you up on the offer."

The two men left together, engaged in light conversation as Salazar let his feet carry him to the Slytherin Common room. The stretch of wall that he stopped in front of was bare and easily dismissed, but something in him decided that this was right. So he placed his hand against the wall and closed his eyes to reach out to the wards. Hogwarts eagerly met him halfway, the House wards vibrating happily as they waited with a sort of sentience that they had never had before in his time.

Salazar took a moment to let them wash over him before he requested that the door be opened to them. He would need to set a passcode for his students, but that was for another time. As the false wall melted away to reveal the passageway down into the Common room, Salazar let his hand fall back down to his side. “Shall we?” He led the way down into the room as the entrance closed behind them. “I have yet to actually set foot inside these walls,” Salazar said as he looked around in interest. How much had changed in the years since he had last set foot in here? It was not a sealed chamber that his personal rooms had been and so much of the school had already changed.

As he strode over to the gathered plush couches in front of the elaborate hearth, Salazar took in everything. The general layout of the room was still as he remembered. The very foundation had remained unchanged, as well as the hearth that he had taken great joy in creating. The seating was new, as well as the lighting. But there was still the view into the Lake that he had so loved. It cast a green aura on the rough hewn chamber that was comforting in its familiarity. Still, for all its grandeur, the room felt cold. Salazar figured he might have to make some changes.

"You decided to come with me. Might I ask why?" He asked bluntly as they settled on the cool leather of the couches. A flick of his wand fed the hearth flame and brought more warmth to the room. Salazar leveled his gaze on Zabini as he waited for a reply.

"I am curious," Zabini said just as bluntly. "I do not know you, so I trust you about as well as you can expect. But, knowing that it was Hogwarts that had chosen you for the position it has given you, it leads me to believe that the ancient magics had to have had a good reason. I want to know why," was Zabini's calm reply. "Besides, Slytherins are taught to show a united front no matter what goes on behind the veil of unity. We will need that now more than ever as we fight both against Pureblood supremacy and the suspicion of our own allies."

Salazar gave a small smile. "There is nothing wrong about being curious," he said then in reply to Zabini's initial admission. "It is how you sate your curiosity that proves your character." Salazar was quiet then before he rose to his feet again to wander about the common room. His mind was too restless not to give his body an outlet, so he masked it in the need to explore the changed atmosphere of the room. "You are right that we should stand together because who else shall stand with us?" Salazar said after a time, as his fingers glided over the polished wood of a high backed chair. "However, it is my goal to bring Slytherin House back to glory, to restore its luck and honour. The students it produces are known for their ambition, yes, but I do not care for the attitude that makes them scapegoats to a broken society.” He had done enough research to understand that he had barely scratched the surface of how deeply corruption and stagnation ran. For how complex a hidden world they were, Salazar had expected far more from it.

Zabini regarded him quietly for a moment, his gaze heavy as he weighed a question that was so visible in his eyes. Salazar waited patiently for the dark skinned man until Zabini finally leaned forward with a curious hum. "If we are to share the same goal, then let us not be strangers to each other. Tell me, then, about Salazar Slytherin’s journals and the man himself. A family heirloom, you said? Does that make you a descendent?”

Salazar decided he should have expected the question as he let himself chuckle. "A descendent? No," he said simply and with truth ringing in his words. "Who is to say how the journals ended up where they did, but they give an intriguing insight to their author. He writes of Hogwarts fondly, enough that I feel like I know some of her secrets already." The dark haired wizard paused then to mull over his response. Finally, he decided on: "He was a complicated man, Salazar Slytherin. As many are. From what I understand, he oft kept to himself. However, he always had a moment to spare for the few students that attended the early school. It was especially the Slytherins that he took beneath his wing, but that should not come as much of a surprise. I know little how the Slytherin students are seen now, as they have gained their own reputation in time, but in Salazar's time it was the home for those who had no other place. Of course he enjoyed other traits, such as the lauded ambition of Slytherin House, but his House contained many students who could turn to no one else. He taught them to fend for themselves, as who else would if not their fellow Slytherins?" Salazar smiled wistfully as he thought back on his little den of snakelings. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that he had left them behind with fair few to help them. He should count himself lucky the others had not completely disbanded his House.

Salazar leaned back against a table then and crossed his arms across his chest as he turned the brunt of his gaze against Zabini. "This brings me to several questions. I have the words of Salazar Slytherin and have seen the disdain upon Slytherins from those already graduated from these hallowed walls. But what of the current students? How are they treated by both the student body and by the adults who are responsible for their well being?" That was the immediate concern.

"It is the opinion of the wizarding world at large that Slytherins are all budding Dark Witches and Wizards," Zabini spoke softly. "That alone would not be of any importance, except that the wizarding world has long forgotten the importance of Balance. Dark is equatable to evil in the mind of the public.” Zabini’s gaze was intense and unyielding. “It is a reputation gained long ago in a history lost to mere stories and speculation, where it has led into a world where children inherit the sins of their parents.” The dark skinned wizard gave a quiet laugh, the sound too bitter. “The majority of Slytherins come from Pureblood families of varying pedigree. Those who are not from even the lesser families are often forgotten about, fade into the woodwork so to speak. Those who do come from Pureblooded families have had the prejudice of superior blood drilled into their heads for most of their lives. Coupled with the fact that they have no one to turn to and are expected to live up to the impossible expectations of their parents…" Zabini shook his head as he trailed off. “It is a cycle that bare few have been able to escape and those that have done so have very little to show for it.”

Salazar bowed his head and closed his eyes, his expression one of contemplation. He could feel the weight of Zabini’s gaze on him. It was hardly a subtle call for help, though pride likely kept the younger man from asking outright. "Salazar would be disappointed in his students if he knew," Salazar finally spoke in a quiet voice. His chest felt tight, but he could not really say that he was entirely surprised to hear the situation. He took a fortifying breath and then met Zabini’s gaze head on. "You say that the Slytherins have no one to turn to, but that hardly answered my question. Tell me, Blaise Zabini, of how my House is treated by other students and by the professors meant to guide them. What has Snape done to protect them?”

Zabini gave in with a nod and finally looked away. “Professor Snape showed favoritism towards his students. He would reward us with points while he would find even the littlest ways to take points from the other Houses, Gryffindor especially. He can certainly hold a grudge, that man. While he is a brilliant Potion Master, and I have the utmost respect for how long he survived as a spy amongst the Dark Lord’s ranks, he is not a shining role model for a teacher. I do not think there was a single student, Draco aside, that would have gone to Snape for help. We had to find help amongst ourselves, but even Slytherins don’t always trust other Slytherins. The older years tend to fall prey to fanaticism and blossoming addictions to the Dark Arts.” Zabini sighed and shook his head. “As for the other professors, they tended to be more subtle in their bias. While the other Houses were not safe from punishment according to their misdeeds, the blame was often quick to fall on Slytherins whether it was warranted or not.”

There was silence for a moment and then Zabini gave a wry smile. “As for the other students? Well, you heard Weasley.”

Salazar clenched his jaw and turned his gaze towards the green depths of the lake through the window. “Then there is a long path in front of me,” he stated seriously. “One that I shall need allies by my side, if you are willing.”

At the offering, Zabini climbed to his feet and stepped over to Salazar. The jade eyed wizard straightened to his feet and grasped Zabini’s forearm when the man extended his hand. “I would be honoured,” Zabini said with a sincerity that brought a smile to Salazar’s lips.

The two spent further time in conversation before both were called away by separate duties they needed to tend to. And it was in this sort of manner that the next few days passed. He and Zabini would find time to have conversations together, but much of Salazar's days was taken up by his visits to the library. It was there that he found himself again, new research spread about him.

"My name is Hermione Granger," a hand suddenly appeared in his line of vision and blocked his view of his book. As he followed the hand up to its owner, Salazar raised an eyebrow as he took in the young woman’s determined posture. A Gryffindor, if he had to guess. "I am the Defense against the Dark Arts professor," she told him next, still holding her hand out. “Well, one of them at least. I do not hold a mastery just yet, but I refuse to call myself an assistant.”

After he had decided to ignore the still outstretched hand, Salazar leaned back in his chair and closed his book. "You know who I am by now, I assume," he spoke mildly. "So, is there something you needed me for?" There was so much to learn and so much to prepare, so he had decided what took the most precedence was the most relevant potion discoveries in recent years. A number of books and journals were laid out before him on the library table, a great many of them having been penned by Severus Snape. Other more recent discoveries were still at least several decades old. While it made things easier for him, it was a disheartening example of the stagnancy of magic. But he digressed from the situation at hand, so he focused back on the near vibrating woman in front of him.

The woman, Granger, flushed a bit when he did not take her hand and she pulled it back a little awkwardly. Granger recovered quickly though, not easily defeated, as she surged forward again. "You are going to be a new professor, so I thought it would be best if we could be on good terms," she said. "Perhaps we could compare teaching styles? I was a student underneath Snape's tutelage when he was the Potion's professor. I was curious to how you would do things," she told him eagerly but Salazar only gave her a disinterested look.

"You are welcome to sit in on one of my classes if you are that curious, Professor Granger. However, there is still much preparation that I must attend to in regards to both my duties as Head of House, and the material in which I intend to go over with my students. I do not have the advantage of an assistant. That said, you can see that I do not have the time to debate trifles. If you would be so kind then, I would appreciate it if you would leave me to my work," Salazar spoke as calmly as he could, his words spoken lightly. He ignored the odd feeling that certain roles had been switched, though he could not place any relatable memories to the feeling. He had not met Granger durectly before now anyways, only seen her in passing at meals.

In a clear dismissal, Salazar turned his attention back down to the books laid out before him. Distantly, Salazar heard the young woman leave with a small sniff and something about being as unapproachable as Snape. It caused a small smile to pull at his lips, though not because he enjoyed being compared to the sour man. Luckily Salazar had very little interaction with him outside of their initial encounters. However, another interruption came just moments later and sent Salazar’s heart to racing. He had not heard the other man’s approach, but suddenly a voice was speaking to him from among the stacks of bookshelves. "If I may be so blunt, it seems to me that if you continue to act like that, you are never going to make any friends with the rest of the teachers," the soft voice spoke as the man rounded one of the bookshelves. As he calmed his heart, Salazar looked up again to spot an older man with amber eyes and scarred visage that belied the kind smile he offered. He knew better than to take things from face value, though. "I apologize for the interruption, but I'll be leaving for a short trip today and I wanted to take the chance to introduce myself to you. I am Remus Lupin, a former professor here.”

Salazar regarded the man before him and was struck by the vague recollection of a moon and a dark writhing forest. The sudden onslaught brought with it the echo of a headache and a feeling of frustration. He had been recently plagued by half formed memories of things he did not remember happening, and impressions of people he had never met. While he had his suspicions, the incidents fell low on his list of current priorities. So he brushed it all aside and gave Lupin a polite smile. "It is a pleasure. But if you would not mind, I would truly like to be left alone." He had never been known for really caring about another's feelings, though Godric had always liked to point out that he really was secretly soft at heart. But that thought brought with it memories that were still far too raw for him to revisit.

"Are you alright, Professor Evans? You look a bit pale." Lupin's voice cut through his thoughts and abruptly pulled him back to the present. The peace and quiet of his chamber called to him now, so Salazar gave a curt nod as he climbed to his feet. A wave of his wand had his things neatly stacked and then shrunk to easier carry. After several days of rest, his magic had replenished enough that small things like this were doable.

As he picked up his books, Salazar gave the other man a brief smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "I apologize for my abruptness, but you will have to excuse me. Have a good day," he said in dismissal before he left and entirely missed the puzzled look on the other man’s face as he scented the air.

As he quickly strode down the hallway, Salazar took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He took a sharp turn down a hallway then as he remembered at the last moment that he had been assigned new chambers. As he had been appointed as both the new Potion's professor and the Head of Slytherin House, the Headmaster had reasoned that he needed rooms that were closer to his students. The old man had made it sound as if he had come up with the idea rather than it being originally Salzar's request. Snape had also kept his old chambers - as Salazar was not about to kick him from them and cause new resentment on top of everything else - so the House elves had cleaned out an old set of rooms for him that had likely been at one time an old classroom. The entrance was a plain door, but Salazar preferred that over the portrait entrances anyways.

The front chamber, which would have been the original classroom, doubled as both his study and a sitting room. Shelves lined one side of the room with an ornate desk before them and hearth directly opposite. The shelves were already filled by all of his old scrolls and books. An old couch was salvaged from somewhere, worn but very comfortable. Opposite of the entrance was the door to his bedroom proper. It had been the office space at one time, but comfortably fit a bed and his wardrobe. A second door opened into a small ensuite. In the sitting room, Salazar set the books from the library down on his desk and reversed the enchantment on them to return them to their normal size. After a moment of quiet, he heaved a sigh and spun on his heel with the intention of leaving the castle. The stone walls around him were unyielding and seemed to press down upon him. It left him with too little air in his lungs and the need for fresh air, open spaces.

With too much rattling about in his mind, Salazar let his feet take him without thought until he eventually came upon the edge of the lake. The land had changed after nearly a thousand years, but there were still distant mountain peaks that he recognized and the gentle ripples of the lake was as soothing as it had always been. It was familiar enough that, if he closed his eyes, he felt as if he had never left. He could almost imagine Godric’s footsteps as he sought him out, always knowing when he needed him.

((Flashback))

"Is Helga giving you a hard time again?" A deep voice whispered in his ear while strong arms wrapped around his waist, but Salazar knew immediately who the other was and so relaxed back into the embrace. Godric was his brother and he welcomed the closeness that they could share. Especially when his mind was in turmoil and his headaches brought fuzzy edges to his vision. He could trust Godric to protect his back and support him. A cool hand brushed against his forehead and Salazar let the last of his tension seep out of him.

With his weight resting against the solid support of Godric’s body, Salazar breathed out slowly. "I can take some of the blame too, as I was the one who started the argument,” he said wryly. “She has become so vocal lately and I could not stand back any longer. I had to confront her on the issue and I merely wish for her to understand my stance on this.” He brought up a hand and rested it over his eyes as Godric’s hand dropped. “It is insulting to broadly hate mundanes for the actions of a few. And to look down upon them… mundanes are surprisingly inventive without magic to fall back upon in solutions to problems.” He huffed out a soft laugh. “But it is true that humans fear what they do not understand. Even magical folk fall prey to this truth. And when humans fear something, they become rash. It is then our mundane born children that feel the brunt of this.”

Salazar knew he was working himself up into a rant, but he knew he could talk to Godric about anything and it had been building up on his chest. “Of course, some families seem genuinely pleased for their children, but those are a rarity. I have seen much more who seek to use their children, for they think it will bring them riches, or will reject them because obviously their child has made deals with devils to gain their magic. Or, my favourite, they have been switched with a changeling so their child is not truly theirs!” Salazar leaned back into Godric, ignoring the man’s stillness. “ I know you understand, Godric. You have shared many stories with me from your time with the Knights. I have helped my fair share as well… and you know that these occurrences are increasing. And, in this future that is so uncertain, I am afraid. I do not want to be rash, like it is in our nature to be, but I know something must be done. Perhaps a new system could be established.”

Salazar paused then and heaved a great sigh. "I tire of cleaning up the aftermath of abuse my Slytherins go through. I can only do so much for them, but Hogwarts is their only home. I want to help them, but I do not know what else I can do. I am doing all I can for the moment, but I am only treating the aftereffects. It does nothing to solve the actual problem," Salazar mused before he trailed off with another great sigh.

It was then that Salazar finally realized that Godric was almost unnaturally still. He turned to see the taller man staring out at the lake with eyes that were far away from the present. He thought he should be irritated that Godric had seemingly not been listening to him, but he only felt concerned. Salazar pulled away from Godric’s lax grip and turned to face him. "What is it, Godric? What is on your mind?"

Directly questioned, Godric gave a slow blink and then focused on Salazar. "Nothing at all," he said before he gave a roll of his eyes. "Well, that is to say nothing that you need to worry about. And you should not stress either, my brother." Salazar might have agreed, but the skin around Godric's eyes was too tight. He knew Godric well enough to know something was not right.

He had no time to press though as he spotted Cayden's approach. The younger man was tucking his wand away as he walked, but Salazar dismissed it as he went to greet his brother. He gave Godric an absent goodbye as he wrapped an arm about Cayden's shoulders and led the way back to the school. "Tell me, how does it feel to be out in the world? Have you had enough of it yet?" He teased his brother, happy to see him again. It had been only a short time since Cayden had decided he needed more worldly experience, but Salazar had missed Cayden's company and their long debates over magic.

"I had wanted to speak to you, Salazar," Cayden said quietly as they passed through the gates of the school. "I could not help but overhear your conversation with Gryffindor and it only strengthens my resolve. I knew I could come to you for help in this endeavor." He came to a stop and faced Salazar, a strange light in his eyes. It was in that moment that Salazar observed his brother with growing concern. The young man was paler, had a gaunt draw to his face and a wildness in his eyes that Salazar had never seen before. Dread clawed at the pits of his stomach. "I have something in mind, and I want your help," Cayden whispered urgently as he stepped closer to Salazar. The strange madness was growing stronger now, coupled with the adoration for his brother that had always been in his gaze. It made Salazar uncomfortable now, but he found himself rooted to his spot with ever growing trepidation. "I have already begun…"

((End Flashback))

A splash from the lake startled Salazar from his memories. The man huffed out a wry laugh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had come out here to ease his mind, not fall into the murky depths of a painful memory. Logically, things had gone wrong far before then and that day had not been the start of the end, but it very much felt like it had been the pivotal point in where everything had gone wrong. That day was when Cayden had explained his plans and desire to eradicate the mundanes. The hatred that had spewed from his brother’s lips had sent Salazar reeling and grasping at straws. The deep depth of the young man’s vitriol was not a newly learned thing and Salazar had been left guessing at how he had missed it. He had vehemently denounced anything to do with Cayden’s plans, too shocked to be gentle. And Cayden had always hated being told ‘no’. Salazar still remembered the ugly twist of anger that had deformed Cayden’s handsome face before the younger man had disappeared. Salazar had still been in too much shock to stop his brother from leaving. From there, the attacks on mundanes had become more frequent and audacious. Cayden no longer hid what he was doing, brazen in his crusade to eradicate their non magical kin. It was then not long after that the others had banished him from the school.

The banishment rankled, an open festering wound because of all the unanswered questions. How could he have been so blind to the situation around him? It seemed obvious that the others blamed him for Cayden; and in that they were not wrong. He blamed himself. But to go so far as to banish him publicly, humiliate him in front of the entire school? It was not something he could have foreseen or even thought the others capable.

With a huff of disgust, Salazar turned his back on the loch to head back towards the school. Though the view was a familiar one, it only brought forth sullied memories. If he was to find some peace, it would need to be inside the walls of the school rather than outside them. While the corridors carried a sense of familiarity, they were unfamiliar enough still to not carry connotations best ignored for the time. The school was large enough that he could find a space to breathe. He deserved the chance to run from everything, if only just for a time. He would face it head on another time. Only once he was better prepared, of course.

It was a few days before the start of term that saw Salazar finally take a break from his preparations. He was comfortable with the syllabus he had created and had submitted it to the Headmaster for approval. With the elder wizard’s go ahead, Salazar had settled the smaller details. All the while he had kept an eye on the inner workings of the castle. He knew that the headmaster’s resistance group, the Order of the Phoenix, met regularly. He had yet to find out what went on in the frequent meetings, but there was a lot of traffic to and from the castle. A few, he noted, many came back looking worse for wear. It seemed to indicate a battle of some sort, but nothing ever seemed to appear in the flashy newspaper that showed up at the table every morning. It led Salazar to believe that the paper was controlled by the Dark Lord’s followers. It really did not give him an accurate scope of the war. While he might want to stay out of the war, he was not so stupid as to believe that it could not effect him.

But as the return of the students drew closer, Salazar focused on ensuring all the materials were in order. He even convinced the headmaster to loan him enough currency to purchase new textbooks for the students. He specially warded them against the shenanigans of students as they would be lent to the students during class rather than being given to them. He had not wanted to use Snape’s chosen textbook, but knew it was too close to the beginning of school to expect that all the students would be able to go out and purchase new course books. The new books had arrived the day before, so he felt as if he was as prepared as he could be and though it would be best to take the last bit of time left to him to relax as much as he could manage. As he made his way to the table for breakfast, Salazar decided he would spend the day roaming the castle. He had had, for now, little trouble in navigating the labyrinth of corridors, but wanted to see if he could find shortcuts and hidden passageways. Who knew what sort of treasures he could find. So with an eagerness to get started on his plans, Salazar sat down at the table and then gathered some food for himself.

"Professor Evans," Dumbledore's voice suddenly drew his attention. The dark haired wizard turned slightly to the Headmaster as he set his goblet aside. He inclined his head to show that he was listening. The elder wizard gave him a rather pleasant smile as he tucked his beard into his belt so it wouldn't get in the way. It all seemed carefully crafted in some way, every motion a plot to convey a certain image. Salazar gave the headmaster a wary eye, but patiently waited for the man to continue. Dumbledore did not disappoint.

"Even with the state the world is in, students will reach Hogwarts by train just as they have always done. We have done everything we can to ensure their safety, but I would like to ask you to accompany the train yourself as well. I feel as if your presence will be a valuable one,” the headmaster requested calmly. 

There was silence in the Hall for all of a few seconds as Salazar stared at the headmaster in bemusement. “I suppose I must accept your proposal then, Headmaster,” the dark haired wizard said finally after a few moments. He had a feeling that he really did not have the option to say no, though his acceptance was the catalyst for some rather exuberant inquiries about Dumbledore’s sanity from others at the table. His appetite suddenly soured, Salazar stood with a sigh and excused himself quietly. He could inquire after the details later and instead saw himself from the Hall. What a pity that he had been unable to eat much of his meal. As he left, he heard someone call out his name and turned his head to find Zabini approaching. “Good morning, Zabini. Was there something you needed from me?" He questioned in curiosity, only to have the other man chuckle and shake his head.

"Yes and no. I find the protests in the Hall have ruined my appetite, so will you walk with me?” He said with a shrug, to which Salazar agreed. As the two made their way down the corridor away from the Great Hall, Zabini glanced over to Salazar. "I'm going to be on the train as well," he offered. “So, you will not be alone. I am sure I can get Black, who is heading the security, to pair us together for rounds. Might make the trip a little less boring.”

To have Zabini there with him on the magical transport would make the trip more bearable, he could agree with that. So, Salazar gave a nod and offered a small smile. "So not that we have established that we both shall be escorting the students to Hogwarts, might I ask you a few questions about the details?” He continued once Zabini had given him a nod. “Let us see. Well, first off, the students will arrive on September 1st, yes? As I have never ridden it myself, where exactly is the train and when is it scheduled to leave?"

Zabini was very forthcoming, letting Salazar know the answers to his questions. Though the train would leave promptly at 11 o’clock, they would need to arrive much earlier in the day to give the train one last security check and then make sure all of the students boarded the train safely. During the trip itself, they were required to patrol between the cars to ensure the safety of the students as well as keep order. Though Zabini was unaware of the exact amount of wizards enlisted for it, a number would be flying alongside the train on broomsticks under illusion spells as first defense in the security detail.

They wandered together for a time after while they debated simple aspects of magic. Eventually though, Salazar realized the time and excused himself to a staff meeting that the headmaster had arranged to take place during their midday meal. As they all enjoyed their meal, Dumbledore went over a few last minute announcements. Most notably was the addition of some items to Filch’s banned items list. Salazar was not sure if he wanted to know the story behind such a list.

It was then, as Dumbledore was going over who had been appointed prefects, that there was a sudden burst of flame at the Headmaster’s side. While the other professors seemed to pass it off as an everyday occurrence, Salazar warily curled his fingers around the cool handle of his wand. His grip grew lax in astonishment though as the magical flame bloomed into vibrant gold and scarlet plumage that he would recognize anywhere. The creature barely spared him a glance, but Salazar was not likely to forget Godric’s familiar anytime soon. Fawkes would be hunting him down soon, if Salazar had to make a bet about it.

For now though, Fawkes ignored him as he handed Dumbledore a scroll that had been gripped in his talons. With a soft trill, the noble creature settled itself on the back of the man’s chair and ruffled its feathers. Salazar watched wordlessly and gave a weak smile as the woman next to him leaned over close to him. "He's Dumbledore's familiar," she whispered in what was supposed to be a helpful manner. Salazar could only nod, so the woman smiled knowingly in light of what she assumed was Salazar’s awe as she sat back.

With a heavy heart, Salazar watched the phoenix a moment before he forced himself to turn his gaze away. The headmaster had unrolled the scroll and read it with serious intensity. When the wizard came to the end of the unknown message, he stood up and cleared his throat. “You will have to excuse me as I have some urgent business to take care of. Have a good day,” he dismissed them. The rest of his Order was quick to follow him out the door, Fawkes perched on the headmaster’s shoulder.

The other professors let themselves out, though Salazar stopped abruptly when he spotted the ghost that was hovering mere centimeters from the seat of a chair. The echo of an old man seemed to be dozing as Salazar could hear light snores. With a niggling sort of feeling in the back of his mind that did not sit right, Salazar cleared his throat loud enough to startle the ghost awake.

“Yes?” The ghost asked as he squinted his eyes. “Can I help you?”

Salazar forced a polite smile. “I apologize for startling you. I am Professor Herrick Evans. I am the new potions professor, so I thought to introduce myself,” he said.

“Ah, yes, yes. Of course,” the ghost hummed as he nodded slowly.

When the ghost fell silent, Salazar fought not to sigh. “And you are?” He prodded in his gentlest voice.

“Oh, yes, apologies. I am Professor Cuthbert Binns. History of Magic,” the ghost said before he started to drift away through the nearby wall, dismissing Salazar entirely. The wizard could only watch without a word, the pit in his stomach growing in dawning horror. He had a terrible feeling that Binns was a current professor and not just the ghost of a previous professor, though ghost he may be. He had nothing against benevolent spirits, but something told him that History of Magic was a near useless class.

It was only the privacy of the room that let Salazar give out a despairing groan. He allowed himself a moment as he passed a hand over his face before he drew himself up and squared his shoulders. If it was what he suspected, then it was something he would need to bring up with the headmaster eventually. As if he did not have enough on his plate already.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last time:

It was only the privacy of the room that let Salazar give out a despairing groan. He allowed himself a moment as he passed a hand over his face before he drew himself up and squared his shoulders. If it was what he suspected, then it was something he would need to bring up with the headmaster eventually. As if he did not have enough on his plate already.

Chapter Four

‘Somehow, I knew I would find you here, Salazar Slytherin,’ a deep voice suddenly echoed in his head. Salazar barely blinked, but looked up to see Fawkes across from him while perched on the back of a chair. He had taken refuge in the library to go over some last minute lesson plans, his journals and notes spread about him on the table as they always seemed to be. He had seven different years he had to teach, after all, and each one needed a different approach. First years he already knew what he would do, taking much of it from his previous years of teaching back in his own time period. His second through fifth years would all need tests that he had to write out, questions based upon what he had expected of his students of previous years and the advancements of potionmaking in this time. Sixth and seventh year advanced students would need a specialised test as well, based upon the standardised exams that the Ministry conducted.

He had been working on a test that he would give out to both his sixth and seventh years when he was interrupted by a certain scarlet and gold phoenix. “Somehow, I knew that you would come and find me,” he shot back in Gaelic as he looked back down to the journal currently in his lap before he elegantly scrawled a few notes on the parchment on the table. He had known that Fawkes would come find him eventually, though Salazar wondered just how deep his loyalty to the Headmaster currently ran. Part of him did want to know what had become of his former friends and the phoenix would be the only one who knew. But another, larger, part of him was still reeling from the betrayal of the only people he had really trusted. Fawkes had been Godric’s familiar. It was this thought that made him almost wonder why the creature had not attacked him yet. “I thought that phoenixes did not like dark wizards,” Salazar spoke almost bitterly with a sneer twisting his lips, his eyes darkening to nearly black. Would he have to worry too about Fawkes spilling his secret to Dumbledore?

‘But you are not strictly a dark wizard are you, Salazar Slytherin?’ The phoenix responded as it preened its feathers, the dismissive tone one that made Salazar’s sneer transform instead into a scowl. ‘Besides, you know as well as I do that dark magic does not make a wizard evil. It is the intent in which the magic is used. Of course, there is a fine line if one does not take care to watch how they tread, but we both know that you have never stepped so much as a single toe over that line. You are a survivor, Salazar Slytherin, not a cold blooded murderer.’

Salazar turned his head away with an unreadable look on his face. Laid bare like this, he was just glad that he had taken time to set up privacy wards beforehand and had spoken in a language that bare few in the castle understood. The wards had kept others away so he could prepare in private, but both they and his speech kept anyone from knowing his conversation with Fawkes. Of course the bloody phoenix could get through them, but he did not have to worry too much about what was said. He did take care to keep his voice low and make sure no one approached, though. Just the presence of Dumbledore’s familiar would draw unwanted attention towards him. “And why did you not try to tell your master that?” He sneered out the words with the knowledge that Fawkes would know just who exactly he spoke about.

In response, the creature suddenly gave a mournful trill as he ruffled his feathers. ‘I had just gone through a burning phase, Salazar Slytherin. I had no capacity to know Godric’s mind. By the time that my mind had come back to me and I had grown enough to realize what had happened, you were already gone. Godric sent me after you to try to find you, but you had already disappeared.’

The knowledge of what Godric had done afterwards clashed with the actions of what the redhead had done to him that day, so Salazar could only give the phoenix a look of complete disbelief. “Sent you after me?” He echoed the words with his incredulity colouring his words. “Why would he do such a thing? They banished me!”  He said the words heatedly, the pain too great to hide from his now very much expressive eyes. “Did he want to drive the knife deeper into my soul? Is that why he wanted you to find me? He was too late then and perhaps it was not such a bad thing that I ended up here,” he scowled before he stood up and gathered his things with jerky movements.

‘Salazar Slytherin!’ Fawkes voice was sharp, a painful tone that make Salazar cringe as the voice echoed about in his head. ‘You will do well to listen to what I have to say! Instead of prattling on about what you do not know about, you will instead listen to me! Do you understand me, you foolish wizard?’ Fawkes had puffed himself up and he was shining brightly. It made Salazar’s head hurt once more to watch, so he quickly turned away. The condescending tone made his chest hurt. Arrogant bird. ‘Godric was…’ Unaware of the acidic thoughts that had bubbled up in Salazar’s mind, Fawkes started to speak only to be cut off when one of the professors entered the library. Though hidden amongst the shelves, the library was no longer private enough for this conversation. Both parties were too agitated to continue anyhow. So Fawkes huffed out, seemingly deflated. ‘I will speak with you later,’ the phoenix said finally after a moment of silence before he disappeared.

Too riled up to continue with his work, Salazar dropped the privacy spells with a growl and swept everything up into his arms. The wizard rounded the shelves with clipped steps and swept past the confused Arthimancy professor before he started the long trek back down to his room. He didn’t feel like working anymore and especially did not have the concentration for it. Instead his magic roiled beneath his skin almost like something alive. With his levels back to where they should be, he had to take care to keep himself in control. How embarrassing would it be for a fully grown wizard to have an incident of accidental magic. Rowena certainly would have lectured him. He did not need those thoughts in his head either though.

Salazar took a deep breath to bring his emotions back under his control, but spared a thought for the idea that maybe it was time he went to the Room of Requirement. It had been a special little room in one of the towers that he and Godric had dreamed up one day, though it had taken weeks of work and a little bit of help from Rowena. Of course, Rowena never really knew just what they were up to. Salazar smiled wryly as he pushed open the door to his chambers, his thoughts suddenly years away. Oh, how much he wanted to remember only the good memories.

((Begin Flashback))

Godric slumped into the seat next to Salazar. He had invited himself into Salazar’s room just a few minutes before and had made himself at home in one of the chairs, but had yet to say anything. At the redhead’s pout, the green eyed wizard raised a delicate eyebrow and breathed out a sigh as he closed the book in front of him. “Alright. I see we are not going to get anywhere unless I ask. What has got you into a mood this time, Godric?” He drawled out the words, prepared for some sort of nonsense that the man was in a snit over. He could only smirk then at the glare that was thrown his way. So petulant. Salazar’s amusement only grew as Godric’s glare slowly melted away into a sullen pout once more.

Godric did not seem like he was about to answer the question unless Salazar prodded him more, but then the wizard suddenly gave a growl. “That damn woman will not let me practice with my sword out on the grounds anymore! She is citing bad influence and…” He trailed off before he huffed irritably. “Can you believe that?”  He exploded at the end as he threw his hands into the air. His indignation came off of him nearly as visible waves.

Salazar could only look extremely amused as he leaned back in his chair, book thoroughly forgotten. “You know Rowena does not like you using the inner courtyards to practice. If I were to remember correctly, I believe she told me that it was a major distraction. I am inclined to agree with her, what with all of the girls that tend to gather around you when they could be doing more productive things,” Salazar teased. “Helga will back her up as well, so I am afraid that you do not have much choice, Godric.”

Godric did not seem like he could find any humour in the situation. Instead he looked at his friend with a scowl now and he crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Oh? Did you know that she has forbidden us to spar on the school grounds as well?” He informed Salazar bitterly, though a spark of amusement appeared in his eyes at the gobsmacked look that stole over his friend’s face.

Before he could stop himself, Salazar leaned forward in his chair and opened his mouth. “What? She cannot do that! We take every precaution so that…!” Salazar abruptly trailed off as he gave Godric an icy glare at the smug look that had stolen over the redhead’s expression. “You wipe that look off of your face, Gryffindor, or I am not going to help you with this predicament!” He threatened his friend, though his irritation was soothed when Godric quickly sobered up. If it was one thing Godric enjoyed, it was that he could swing his sword around. Salazar could understand the notion as physical activity was often a great outlet. “Bad influence indeed,” he muttered under his breath.

Salazar sighed then and set aside his book so it was out of his way. “So then, Godric, how do you suppose that we go about this?”  He asked the question as he turned his focus entirely on the other wizard. He took a quick breath, his mind already working overtime. “If Rowena were to catch us, she would have our hides. However, we cannot just very well go along with this can we?” Godric threw him a pleased grin in return, mischief dancing in his eyes as he also calmed. Salazar liked to think that his deviousness rubbed off on his friend. Either way, they were in this together to problem solve.

Godric breathed out as he settled back in his seat. “Well, I would not suggest using just an empty classroom. Remember the last time we tried that?” He asked the question with a grimace, thoughts far away for the moment as he remembered the incident. He did not think that Helga had forgiven them yet for that particular mess. He brushed the thoughts aside to focus on the problem at hand. “We need a room that is large enough to move freely in. Maybe something to absorb wayward spells?” Godric mused the thoughts aloud.

At Godric’s thoughts, Salazar looked thoughtfully over to his shelves as he mulled over ideas. He suddenly stood up then as something sparked. It would need some tweaking but it might just work, he thought as he hurried over to his bookshelf and grabbed down one of the scrolls to take over to Godric. “Look here! I was doing some light reading the other day and I came upon this. It describes the groundwork for a pocket dimension, which is the same type of idea that some wizards use for tents or bottomless bags. Remember that one man we ran into during our travels with Helga? The inside of his tent was almost like a small castle, though it was contained in this small tarp that looked like it would barely house one person.”

After he had pointed to the inscription on the scroll, Salazar set it down and hurried off to grab a book of bound parchment. “What if we used the same type of enchantment in one of the rooms here? It would create a space large enough for our sparring, something that we could create to our exacting specifications. If we build on it, we could probably add in the spell absorption that you mentioned.” It would mean weaving multiple enchantments together, but he thought it was doable.

As he returned to his bookshelf to search through more of his documents, Salazar missed the way that Godric watched him in fond amusement. “Perfect,” the redhead said as he interrupted his friend’s chatter. “It will be our little secret.”

((End Flashback))

And it had been. Godric and he had spent countless weeks researching everything they could to create the web of spells that eventually gave rise to the Room of Requirement. There were a few times that they had needed Rowena’s help with how a spell might interact with the runes they used to anchor it all but, as she was prone to conversations and debates, it was easy enough to slip it in without any suspicion. The room had been a remarkable feat, something shared between the two of them that continued to grow in ways that Salazar could have never anticipated. The Room took on a life of its own, a more visible extension of Hogwarts’ sentience.

Pushing the painful memories aside, Salazar came back to himself to find himself down a hallway that was rather refreshingly devoid of paintings. Could he ever say just how much he despised the things? He wouldn’t be surprised if they numbered in the thousands! Entire walls were covered with the damned things, each occupant gossiping and being a general nuisance. But his private thoughts were not going to do anything about them, so he let the irritation go from his mind. Instead, Salazar focused on the blank patch of wall before him. Even in a castle saturated by magic, the feel of the magic behind this innocuous wall was very familiar to him. It was not in the same place anymore, moving at the whim of the expanding castle, but he could never forget the feel of this place.

With the warmth of nostalgia bleeding through his chest, Salazar placed his hand against the cold stone and closed his eyes in concentration. He reached out to the magic within the stones to impress on it that he needed a room in which he could spar, get his frustrations out. Beneath his hand the magic surged up and then blossomed outward. As it flowed from that initial point of contact, the stones rippled and rolled away until a plain door appeared as if it had always been there. Salazar took a moment to catch his breath, not from exertion but from the anxiety that boiled up into his throat. With so much changed from his time, this was one of the few things that was familiar. And, when he finally pushed open the door, it was oh so achingly familiar to him.

Though he knew he still stood within the castle, he took a step down onto bladed grass that rippled in a quiet breeze. The meadow seemed to extend far in every direction, though a wall of impenetrable fog rose on the horizon. Wooden planks lay embedded in the ground and led along a short path to a wide stone circle. This landscape had been the very first guise for the Room, the stones encircling an arena and creating a safe area to duel. Runes carved in the standing stones created a barrier to ward against wayward spells because they had not known how any accidents might interact with the web of enchantments on the Room. Later enchantments guarded against such magic, but this circle was full of so many memories.

Salazar felt it nearly hard to breathe as he closed the door behind him and sealed it with a wave of his hand. The door disappeared until only an empty archway stood in its place. This would provide Salazar with the privacy he so desperately needed. His chest felt tight as he took measured steps towards the stone circle. As he moved past them, he brushed his fingers over the cool stone and then took his place in the center. 

His robes whipped about him suddenly and he let his head fall back. It was his magic that crackled over his skin, a wild magic that sparked with a silver light. What a fitting place to throw a tantrum. “Godric! You blind and utter fool!” Salazar screamed the words. “Cayden!” He choked on the name as a tremor shook through his hands. “Oh, dear Cayden… How I have failed you. That festering darkness.” Salazar swallowed thickly and closed his eyes to just breathe. His hair escaped from its braid, whirled about by the wind that still circled about him. The wild energy brought forth restlessness and brought Salazar to tear off his robes to leave only the tunic and trousers he wore beneath. “Come to me, golems of the Room. Fight me!”

As the golems of wood and clay rose from the ground of the circle, Salazar released the illusion over the sword at his side. It was a habit hard to break to just leave it behind, but now it would serve him well. The blade was dwarven made, forged in the northern lands, with runes that strengthened the iron blade and made it conductive to magic. These runes flared as Salazar fed his wild magic into the sword and lifted it. The golems waited for his signal. “Room, provide for me a shield.” As he spoke his need to the Room, a round shield with an iron boss materialized beside him. Salazar lifted it and weighed it in his hand before he turned his gaze to the golems that surrounded him. “Begin.”

He would never be as good as Godric but, against these golems, he was skilled enough. He could use the shield as it was intended, brought up and braced against the downward blow of one of the golems. Down on one knee, he twisted the blade in one hand and swept it sharply to cut into the golem’s muddy hide. The shield too doubled as a weapon itself, a heavy swing as he surged back to his feet to knock the golem onto its back after the sword’s bite had unbalanced it. Salazar brought the sword down into the wooden heart of the golem to disable it and left it to melt back into the ground. He moved on until he was battered and bruised but finally calm. As he stood there with heavy breath, the circle around him faded away into a bare room. He let the shield fall from his stiff fingers and it too faded away. He would not let his bitterness poison all of his memories, poison the pride he had in his school. Salazar focused on these thoughts as he slid his sword back into its sheath where the illusion once more took hold and obscured it from view. More settled, though tired, he left the Room behind to return to his chambers for a good hot soak and a few ointments to take care of the bruises.

It was this calm, and a few more sessions in the Room to keep his composure, that saw him through the last few days before the start of the school term. The day the students would return to the school, Salazar had woken in the early hours. He had been assigned to the train for the children’s safety, so he was on his way down to the entrance hall to meet with Zabini. They had visited King’s Cross station the day before so Salazar could familiarize himself with the train and its protections. There had been a team there laying further protections upon the train cars, but Salazar had let them be for the most part. Most of the students would not arrive at the station yet for a few more hours, but for the Prefects that had been summoned early under Salazar’s request. Grown wizards would see to the physical safety of the students, but Salazar wanted to be sure that they would be kept calm. He could only hope it would not come down to that, he thought with a soft sigh as he entered the hall.

“Ah, there you are. Ready to go babysit some obnoxious children not ready for the new school year, Evans?” Zabini drawled at him as soon as he laid eyes on him.

“I certainly hope that I will not have to babysit you as well, Zabini,” Salazar drawled as he met the younger man’s gaze coolly. A touch of amusement played about his lips though as he settled his emerald summer cloak about his shoulders. It was a light weave of linen that had enchantment matrixes for cooling charms carefully stitched into the lining. Though it had been a gift from Helga, Salazar focused more on the usefulness of the garment over the bitter lump that had settled in his throat. The cloak was something he would wear quite often when travelling outside, especially as the cooling charms were a godsend when the weather was warm. But Salazar tried not to dwell too much on his thoughts. He did not want them to distract them from his duties. So, he spared Zabini another quick glance before he brushed past the man to head down the castle steps. “No point in dawdling. Let us take our leave then, shall we?”

Salazar could not bring himself to say that he was friends with Zabini, but the man was a good companion. He was easy enough to get along with and he rather enjoyed their banter. Zabini had his own duties to attend to so they often only saw each other at meals or the occasional passings in the corridors. It suited Salazar enough, not too keen to make new friends just yet. Still, he wasn’t opposed to Zabini’s presence and the walk down to the gates was a companionable one even in its silence. As they stepped through the gates, Salazar came to a stop through the wards and then glanced over to Zabini with a sly smirk that played fleetingly about his lips. “Meet you there, Zabini. Do not take too long,” he drawled before he disappeared with a nearly silent crack. He never did like the loud and flashy pops that some wizards preferred when they apparated. It drew much too much attention to oneself.

Zabini seemed to take after his example as he quietly popped into the area next to him. “That wasn’t very nice, Evans,” he said with a playful glare. Salazar only smirked at him in response before he looked over to the Hogwarts’ Express with interest. It was still such a marvellous thing, scarlet and steaming. The spellwork that stretched over the engine in barely visible webs that Salazar could only barely work out if he focused were tantalizing. Rowena would have loved to inspect it.

Salazar and Zabini approached an assembled group once Salazar had torn his eyes away from the Express. He had met a few of the protection detail to go over a some of the particulars, but it looked like their illustrious leader was going over the plan again. The man, dark hair just greying at the temples, was a familiar one and Salazar had to hold back a sigh. The man stood at the forefront of the assembled group, though there was an empty look in the man’s eyes even as his gaze caught Salazar and he sneered at him. “I suppose we will be working together then, Slytherin. I had thought you would be too cowardly and would have backed out.”

Salazar sent him a sharp look, though he held his tongue and kept his head held high. He wore the name of Slytherin proudly, would not let his name become a slur on that man’s tongue. If only he knew what ire the man held towards him, or if it was merely a shallow hatred of all Slytherin House. At least he had not had to interact with the older man at all since their near duel in the Great Hall. If he remembered correctly, and he was positive that he had, Salazar knew that the man was part of the Order of the Phoenix. The members had been moving in and out of Hogwarts for some time, though Salazar had paid them little mind. But now that he stood there with his wits around him, there was something that nagged at him about Black. Something that felt out of place, like Black should not be out here in a place so public.

Something must have shown on his face because Black caught it and he gave a mocking smile. “Not caught up to times still have you? I was cleared a short time ago.” Salazar was just as confused now, but inclined his head in a show of understanding. “The rat Pettigrew was caught, so society at large doesn’t believe I’m working for Moldy-shorts anymore.” Black snorted while he ignored the incredulous look that Salazar shot him.

He hadn’t thought much of it before, but Salazar thought that he might have to look more into Black’s past. By his words of being cleared, Salazar could infer that it might have been a crime of some sort. And a well known one. He thought now that he could remember one of the old papers archived in the library had mentioned Black’s name, but he could not recall just what it was about. A hunt for another time then. Instead, he shook his head and gave the older man a steady look. “Of course. Instead, you are here to help us protect the students.” The man’s eyes suddenly sharpened as he shook off something haunted in his gaze and he barked out orders that the others scrambled to obey. Yet, as he turned back towards Zabini to await the arrival of the Prefects, Salazar could not stop the feeling of intense wrongness.

Before he could get very far, Black then turned to Salazar. “Zabini and you will be on the train along with me. We have four others that will be patrolling alongside the train on brooms. They will be relieved halfway through.” The man spoke in clipped tones before he gestured towards the platform entrance. “Your Prefects should be arriving soon. The other kids shouldn’t be far behind. So, I want everyone in position. Zabini and Evans, get on the train and wait for them in the Prefect’s car,” he snapped before he disappeared towards the entrance. “Oh, and don’t get in my way, Evans!” Salazar missed the flash of pain in the man’s eyes as the ex-convict remembered another Evans he had once known.

“Well, I suppose that went about as well as could be expected,” Zabini said with a touch of amusement in his voice as he swept his fingers through his dark curls. “That man seems to have it out for you in particular, though I can’t say that I’m very high on his list either.” He strode over to the train and hopped up into the car. Salazar followed behind him wordlessly.

Once inside, Salazar absently surveyed the compartments as they made their way down to the first car. Inside this car there was no compartments like the others. Instead it was open and there was a scattering of couches around the neutrally decorated car. On one side was a magical fireplace. Certainly a cozy place. Salazar took a place next to the fireplace while Zabini made himself comfortable on one of the couches, arms spread out along the back of it. They didn’t have to wait long before the prefects started to enter the carriage one by one, already dressed in their Hogwarts’ robes. There were twenty-four in total once they had all arrived.

Giving the students a polite smile, Salazar folded his hands together within the sleeves of his robes. “Welcome back, prefects,” he greeted them. “I will try to make this meeting short as the rest of the students should be arriving shortly.” He paused then to take a breath as he let his eyes roam over each of the assembled teenagers. Zabini had risen to stand at the other side of the mantle. “I will be introduced tonight at the welcoming feast to the rest of the student body, but I would like to introduce myself. I am the new Potions’ Professor. You may call me Professor Evans.” He paused to allow them to absorb this before he continued. “This war that rages in the magical realm I can imagine weighs heavily on even your young minds. I want to assure you that Master Zabini and I are here, along with a number of other fully trained wizards, to ensure your safety on the journey to the castle.”

He gave them all a reassuring smile as he spread his hands. “I promise you we will do what we can to protect you. However, I do need to ask for your help.” He paused to let it sink in, though he could see the anxiety and confusion on many of their young faces. “Each one of you were selected from your respective Houses to be Prefects. You have qualities that allow you to be leaders. And that doesn’t always mean fighting.” He gave them another reassuring smile. “Leave the fighting to us. Instead, I want your help in keeping the younger years calm.” Luckily, this seemed to relieve the gathered Prefects. “I know I can trust you all. Now. There are seven carriages, but that includes this carriage here. So, that means that there are six carriages for the students. With the twenty-four of you, I intend to assign four prefects to each carriage. However, there are nine compartments to each carriage. If anything were to happen, the plan will be to lock down the compartments.” He glanced over to Zabini. “We will make rounds to lock each compartment down.”

As he looked back over the nervous faces of the teenagers, Salazar tried to reassure them with a gentle but firm tone. “With four prefects to a carriage, if anything were to happen I want you to gather the students into fewer compartments so at least one prefect is with a compartment of younger students. Once gathered, the shades must be drawn and the door locked. Master Zabini and I will patrol the corridors to help. Any questions?” He could hear commotion out on the platform so he wanted to wrap up the meeting. The students had arrived.

Luckily, there were very few questions. Salazar broke the prefects up into the groups of four so there was one of each House in each carriage. He then sent them off to their assigned carriages to help get the students settled and help with the chaos he could hear. Once alone, he breathed out softly and turned towards Zabini. “I suppose that is our cue. Take one end of the train and I’ll take the other?” Zabini only gave a nod and a quick grin. Salazar followed him out the door to help keep an eye on the chaos.

It was as the children boarded that Salazar had to break up no less than three fights. It was quite easy to see that tensions ran high even amongst the children, though Salazar could not say that he was truly surprised. Still, by the time that the train left the station, Salazar was well and truly ready for the trip to be over. The corridors were loud and the children were rambunctious quite often, though it was easy to pick out who the Ravenclaws were even without the robes. Salazar amused himself with guesses about what Houses each student was a part of. It passed the time through the long trip as it did go rather well at first. He had needed to break up a few more fights as time passed, but he supposed it could have been worse. And none of the students had actually taken to spellcasting in their disagreements. Besides, it certainly gave him the chance to pinpoint a few students that he needed to keep an eye on for various reasons.

It was late in the evening, as he was gently calming down a first year boy, that a shockwave travelled through the carriages from the engine. It rattled the windows and startled a number of screams from the students in the carriage. Salazar cursed under his breath, thankfully not in parseltongue as he was wont to do in the most recent years, and ordered an older student to keep an eye on the young boy before he went to find out what had happened. As he walked briskly down the hallway, Salazar flicked his wrist and summoned his wand into his hand. The prefects in the carriage appeared and helped to herd the children into fewer compartments just as Salazar had ordered them. He helped how he could and had just locked a door when Zabini met up with him. “Deatheaters,” the man scowled. “They’re approaching the train, but they’ve already been intercepted by the guards on their brooms. From what I understand, it is a group of ten individuals and they’re all on brooms.”

As Zabini got him up to speed on what little they knew about the attack, Salazar led the way down the corridors of the compartments. He was glad to see that the prefects were doing as he had instructed them. They had needed to help in the beginning, but eventually they just needed to add extra locking spells to each of the occupied compartments. When they reached the prefect carriage, Zabini breathed out and turned his gaze to Salazar. “They’re all locked,” he reassured them both. “Black is with the conductor, but he should be back soon.”

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Black stepped into the carriage. When he spotted them, his eyes narrowed at them before he made a sharp motion towards the door to the outside as he pushed past them. “On the roof,” the man ordered roughly as he forced open the door and dragged himself up.

Salazar frowned in irritation and strode after Black. He could hear Zabini heave a deep sigh behind him, but heard his steps following after him. Salazar allowed himself a quick smile before he used the momentum of the train - and a little magic - to swing himself onto the roof of the train car. Through the quick use of a mild sticking charm, he was able to keep himself stable on the rocking carriage. Once he felt secure he quickly surveyed the area. At least from this vantage point, they could see the entire train and it would keep the children safer if the deatheaters made it past their first line of defense. “Keep the deatheaters away from the train!” Black barked before he ran off down the swaying cars. He seemed to have applied a sticking charm as well.

In the darkening light, Salazar quickly picked out the deatheaters. Their pale masks shone like beacons amongst their dark robes. A few of them had broken past the guards of the train and made their approach quickly. Salazar tightened his grip on his wand and then sharply raised it with a twist of his wrist. No dark spells. But he didn’t need dark spells.

The bludgeoning curse he had shot off towards his first opponent impacted against a hastily risen shield. It held against the first curse, but fissured into a spiderweb of fractures that exploded and disappeared. Beneath the wizard, his broom exploded and he fell solidly onto the moving train carriage. Salazar had followed up his initial spell with another one. As his opponent fell, he did not give him any time to recover. He slashed his wand downward and then flicked it up. The sparking energy slammed into the prone wizard’s chest and he let out a scream as the energy ran through him. Salazar flicked his wand and his opponent was flung from the train as if hooked by a wire.

As he spun on the balls of his feet, the dark haired wizard swirled the tip of his wand in a tight spiral. The acidic energy of a blood boiling hex slammed into the shield that Salazar had summoned. Still behind the shield, Salazar summoned a whip of flames and cracked it sharply. His new opponent was caught off guard as it wrapped about his waist and dragged him down with a sharp yell. Still, as he fell, the deatheater managed to call out a curse that summoned arrows of ice. Most of them went wide, but Salazar spun out of the way of a few more and brought down his wand like he would his sword to cut through the arrows that he could not dodge.

A venomous green suddenly lit up the world behind him as Salazar was attacked from behind. Every alarm bell in his head was blaring. With barely any time to react, Salazar used the hold he still had on his one attacker to draw him into the path of the oncoming spell. It was the only shield available to him and took out his one opponent in one fell swoop. He dropped the body carelessly off the edge of the carriage, his focus never wavering from his newest opponent.

There was a beat of silence between them before the man suddenly raised his wand with an audible snarl. Salazar had the incantation of a curse on his lips when his opponent suddenly crumpled. Behind him Zabini stood with a small smirk, hand and wand outstretched. “Can’t let you take them all out by yourself, you know. Gotta save at least one for me.”

Salazar breathed out with a quick laugh as he let his hand fall back down. Black approached them sedately, though there was a scowl firmly fixed into his face. It was over.

Without a word, Black moved past them and back into the train. Salazar could not hold back a snort before he made his way back into the carriage again, Zabini not far behind. As Zabini dropped down into the carriage, he closed the door behind him. Salazar stood there alone as Black gone already to other parts of the train.

“It was a test,” Salazar said after a moment as he turned his attention over to the other wizard. “The attacking party was small and the attackers themselves were mediocre at best.” He frowned then and turned for the door. “That, or it was a diversion from something else.” He supposed though, what truly mattered, was that they had survived it. “Help me release the students.” They should arrive soon at Hogsmeade station.

Time still stretched it seemed for the rest of the trip so, by the time they arrived at the station, Salazar was very much relieved to finally be allowed to head back to the castle. Others had arrived to relieve them from their duties, so the wizard disapparated from the station to the castle gates. There was still time before the students actually arrived at the castle, so Salazar took quick strides along the path up to the entrance hall. From there he swiftly made his way to his chambers to freshen up before the welcoming feast.

After a quick change, Salazar made his way towards the Great Hall at a more sedate pace. He took a side door into the hall itself when he heard the chatter of the students in the entrance hall. Salazar had just taken his seat when the doors to the Hall opened for the students to stream in and to their seats. As he settled into his seat, he watched the children curiously as they found their tables. He could pick out many faces that he could recognize now, though he had yet to learn many of their names.

It was curious how the children interacted with one another. Gryffindors were loud and boisterous even though many had pale faces. Actually brave or not, the little lions could put on a brave face. Hufflepuffs offered the palest of the young faces as they sat close to each other in their groups. But even though he could see their fear and their worry, Salazar could see how they comforted each other. Still too, he could see the worry that wove through the Ravenclaws like a prowling beast, but there was quiet strength in their gazes. Many of them were hunched together in packs, some already with books in their laps as they whispered furiously between each other. Perhaps discussions on appropriate spells for the situation they had been in? Salazar smiled to himself before he finally set his gaze on his Slytherins. Immediately, his chest tightened and his breath stilled in his throat. There were far fewer Slytherins than there were in other Houses. Many of them had pale faces and dark eyes. The littlest of them kept their eyes on the table, expressions reserved. The elders among them kept their eyes on their fellows, especially the youngers, but each one of them felt like a solitary presence. There was no comfort.

Salazar wretched his eyes away. He could feel the rise of his magic inside his chest and it nearly stole his breath away again. He forced himself to breathe out and focused as the doors to the Great Hall opened once more as Professor McGonagall entered with the first years behind her. Oh, how tiny they were. Such curious and wide eyed gazes. He let their innocence soothe him and felt his magic settle beneath his skin. He breathed out and watched as the Sorting Hat was brought out, put upon a simple little stool. The sight of it brought a smile to Salazar’s lips and a twinge of something he did not want to put a name to. Ah, that silly little thing that had started out all because of a joke. He couldn’t believe that it had survived all of these years. He could see it open its facsimile of a mouth, but already his thoughts had taken him once more years away from the present.

((Flashback))

“Oh, for the love of all that is good in the world, we are not using a cloak to sort the students!” Salazar burst out as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He stood stiffly at the table they had parchment spread across and levelled a glare at the wizard across from him. They tended to agree on things more often than not, but the idea of using a cloak to sort the students just did not sit right with Salazar for a reason he could not name.

Godric only pouted in response as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not, Sal? I rather like the idea. The cloak will turn the colour of the house the student is in.”

With a scowl that twisted his lips, Salazar looked over at his friend. “First off, do not call me by that damned name. Second off, I think it is a ridiculous idea! Even… even using your hat instead would be a better idea! And it could sing for all that I care! The cloak is a stupid idea,” he ground out as he crossed his own arms and squared off against Godric. He would not budge on this.

“Is that right? You are just jealous that I actually came up with an idea,” Godric shot back. As Salazar hissed some unintelligible response, neither man noticed as Rowena swiped Godric’s aforementioned hat off of a nearby table. They continued to shoot barbs back and forth at each other while Rowena whispered her plan to Helga. The other woman placed a hand over her mouth to smother her laughter as she pulled out her wand. Rowena gave her friend a quick wink before she set Godric’s hat down on a small side table.

Their two boys were well and truly distracted behind them, so Rowena took care in layering the enchantments they needed to bring the hat to life. They had already discussed a great many of the details, so it was merely a question of adjusting them to work on the intended object. Rowena knew the intrinsics of the spells, so Helga merely lent her power to the other woman. As the web of magic settled over the object, Rowena breathed out with a pleased smile. It might need some fine tuning as time went on, but for now it would work. With a delicate hand, she scooped up the hat and approached the still bickering wizards. 

“Well, there you are. That should put an end to that, hm? Problem solved,” Rowena called out as she set the hat down, the two wizards’ attentions finally on her. Behind Rowena, Helga had covered her mouth with her hand again and her face was bright with merriment.

As Godric and Salazar turned their confused gazes on Godric’s hat, the wonky little garment stirred slightly before it shook itself with a grumble. A few wrinkles and folds, which had taken on a suspiciously face-like appearance, seemed to observe them critically for a moment. Godric could only gape at what had once been his hat. After he had gotten over his confusion, Salazar looked rather amused but was trying to keep his face straight. He had not actually meant for them to use Godric’s hat, but he had to admit that it might actually work. With the added bonus of harmless fun at Godric’s expense.

“My hat,” Godric whined, only to jump as the Hat gave a disdainful sniff. It made Salazar smother a chuckle, though it quickly turned to a smirk when Godric glared at him. “It is not funny! I blame you for this! You now owe me another hat!” He accused Salazar with a huff, which only made the wizard smirk even wider.

((End Flashback))

“...do dwell.

But before we take part in the yearly ritual,

We must reflect on the changing times.

Old wounds will be healed,

A thousand year feud comes to a head.

Light grows in the darkness,

Secrets of ages past will come to light.

The Lion will roar…

Agus èiridh an nathair a rìs.”

Salazar paused and his brow furrowed as he turned his eyes towards the Hat. He had missed the customary song that the Hat liked to give about the qualities each House looked for, but it was the last few phrases that really caught his attention. The last line especially. It was spoken in Scottish Gaelic so most whispered in confusion. He could see a few students trying to wrap their mouths around the words. Agus èiridh an nathair a rìs. And the serpent rises again. Did the Hat speak of his House? Now that he was here, and the Hat would know of his presence, did the Hat think he would succeed in saving his precious snakelings? The Hat had never before been prophetic, but a thousand years was a long time to learn a little wisdom. It was hard to say, but it was true that things would certainly change now that he was here.

But then Professor McGonagall glanced over her shoulder at Dumbledore. The look in her eyes sent a shock of cold down Salazar’s spine. The woman would know exactly what the Hat had said at the end. What conclusions had she drawn? Nothing good, he thought. But Salazar tried to shake it off as Professor McGonagall turned back to the waiting students and cleared her throat. “Avery, Shannon,” she called out and the first student stepped forward to be sorted. As the young girl was sent off to Hufflepuff, Salazar clapped politely along with all the other staff. It warmed him to see how the children cheered as they welcomed new students into their Houses. The sour edge was the more subdued cheers from his own House as they gained new members, the splattering of awkward applause from other Houses. Salazar took a drink from his goblet as the last student was sent off to Ravenclaw. He had so much work ahead of him. But for his snakelings? Anything.

As Salazar set his goblet back down, the Sorting Hat was taken away and Dumbledore stood from his spot. The old man beamed as he spread out his arms. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!” There was a quick cheer from the students, but Salazar could see that they were eager for the feast to start. Dumbledore seemed to pick up on it as well as he gave a good-natured chuckle and dropped his hands. “All in good time. But, before we start, I have a few announcements to make, if you would indulge this old man,” he gave a mischievous smile to the students that Salazar could see that it did not quite meet his eyes.

The Headmaster continued on once the children had settled. “First of all, I am glad to announce that Hogwarts will be starting up a duelling class for the upper years. It is mandatory for the beginning of the year, but you will all have the option later to drop out of it if you wish.” Not every witch or wizard was skilled enough to be a duelist, but it would do all of the students good to know the basics. Salazar had agreed.

“Now, our very own Professor Snape will be taking over the class,” Dumbledore announced proudly to the students before he clapped his hands for Snape, quite obviously trying to drum up some applause for the dour man. The staff clapped their hands politely for their colleague, but Salazar could not help but be amused when most of the students just stared except for the Slytherins that clapped politely for their former Head of House. Dumbledore seemed to either not notice, or not care, at the lack of enthusiasm as he continued on to say, “As Professor Snape will be teaching this class, along with taking over as this year’s Defence against the Dark Arts professor, we have a new replacement for your Potions’ professor. Please welcome Professor Evans,” he motioned to Salazar before clapping his hands as well. “Please treat him as you would any of your other professors.”

Salazar gave them a polite smile and inclined his head. “I look forward to instructing you all.”

The Headmaster gave him a small smile before he looked over the students with his gaze coming to linger on Slytherin House in particular. “Now then, I have just one final announcement before we dig in,” Dumbledore said finally with a brief glance towards Snape. “Hogwarts, as many of you know, has a power all of her own. Though not a rule invoked commonly, she has taken it upon herself to anoint a new Head for Slytherin House.” There were surprised mutterings from the students, though Slytherin House was the most vocal. Salazar fought to keep his expression neutral, very much aware that Dumbledore had divorced himself entirely from the choice of House Head. The Headmaster still stood behind Snape, though Salazar still could not figure out why. He glanced at the Headmaster as the man announced, “Professor Evans has been appointed by Hogwarts herself as Slytherin’s new Head of House.”

There was silence following Dumbledore’s announcement, as Salazar expected there might be. Seemingly unperturbed, the Headmaster took the opportunity to summon the feast which distracted a good number of the students. As he served himself some of the available food, Salazar looked over his House carefully. He could tell that they were not happy, but he knew that he would be able to gain their trust in time if he did things right. So pulling his gaze away, he turned to his meal. The other professors still left him alone, but Salazar did not let it get to him as he focused on the laughter that echoed through the Hall from the feasting students. The war hung like a heavy cloud over them all, but here and now it did not seem so choking.

It carried him through the rest of the meal, though he knew his night was not over just yet. Once the children had been dismissed from the Hall, Salazar excused himself from the table and slipped away so he could head down to his dungeons. He thought the Headmaster might want to speak with him over the incident from the train, but the man had not stopped his departure so Salazar thought it would wait for later. So he put it out of his mind and took several side passageways that ended up near the entrance to the Commonroom. As he stepped up to the blank space of stone wall, Salazar placed his hand over the small rune etched into the stone and whispered the new password, “Toiseach ùr.” New beginnings. As the hidden door slid open, Salazar stepped inside and made his way over to one of the couches. There, he waited for his students to arrive as they would not be far behind. And as he waited, he turned his gaze on the pale green light that filtered in through the window into the loch. It was definitely his favourite feature. The movements of the marine life could be mesmerizing and it was soothing to watch with his thoughts drifting along with the currents. He did not even have to think of anything in particular.

The calm that it brought him carried him onward as the door finally slipped open. Salazar could hear the Prefects as they spoke to the younger years. It was good to hear that his snakelings could still band together, even if it was not in public. He held back a smile as they quickly went silent when they realized that Salazar was there. He let them filter in and watched them silently, but then the man raised a hand and gestured them closer. “Come in, come in. I know you all must be tired, but please indulge me. I wanted a word with you all before you went to bed.”

There was reluctance in their steps, but eventually they all gathered around their new Head of House. Salazar smiled briefly before he motioned for them all to make themselves comfortable. He did not want them all to stand around and feel like they were children in for a scolding. He wanted them to learn to be comfortable around him, even if they could never fully trust him.

Salazar leaned forward then as he carefully studied all of the young faces around him. So young and yet so many of them were closed off. “As Dumbledore has introduced me, I am Professor Evans. I am your new Head of House, as appointed by Hogwarts.” He paused then and gave him all a reassuring smile. “I know none of you trust me. I could never ask that of you. All I want is for you to know that any of you can come to me for anything no matter what time it is. I am here to help you, not judge you.”

Salazar paused then and stood up. He stood in front of the hearth and folded his hands behind his back. “I am new to Hogwarts. I still have things to learn of how things work here. But, there are things that are plain to see. No matter what happens beyond the walls of this room, I want you all to feel like you have a family here. Slytherins care for their own.” He adopted a stern gaze, but was careful not to let it linger on any particular student. He didn’t want any of them to feel singled out. “However, I could never ask you to always get along. Even families will fight. What I will ask is that you save your feuds for this room. Stand up for each other and be a united front against the rest of the school. Leave your disagreements to be sorted in private. Until others can see anything but the worst of you, stand strong together.”

Salazar let his expression soften. “Well, I do not want to overwhelm you. You all have had a long day and need your rest. Sleep well, my snakelings. I will have your schedules for you in the morning, so make sure you come on time to breakfast,” Salazar told them as he headed over to the entrance. “Prefects, make sure that the first years know where they are going. I do not want any of them getting lost like other students undoubtedly will. Make me proud,” he said before he paused a moment longer. “My office is close by, just further down the hallway. I will be awake for awhile yet tonight, so my door is always open.” After the attack on the train, he wondered how many needed someone to talk to about what had happened. He wondered how many would take him up on the open offer. He wasn’t a fool to think that they would start to come to him right away, but at the very least the seed had been planted. Eventually they would start coming to him and he would be waiting.

With that thought, Salazar made his way to his rooms. As he entered his quiet office, he ran his fingers through his hair with a soft sigh. He did want to get to bed after the excitement of the day, but it was too early to be able to turn his mind off to sleep. So he slipped off his robes and settled it over the back of his chair, much more comfortable in just his tunic and trousers. He settled back in his chair and looked over the parchments scattered over his desk.

Exhaustion was setting in now, though. He could feel it seeping into his bones, but he wanted to wait. He wanted to see if any of his Slytherins would come find him. He waited a long hour, but none of them appeared. He had not thought they would, but he had hoped. With a quiet grunt, Salazar decided it was enough and pulled himself from his chair. He entered into his bedroom to find Eolas already curled up in the warmed blankets of his bed. He softly greeted his familiar before he went to take care of business and get himself ready for bed.

As he slipped beneath the covers, Salazar dimmed the lights with a wave of his hand. He then closed his eyes and ran his fingers lightly over Eolas’s smooth scales. “How are things in the castle?” He hissed the question softly to Eolas. He smiled to himself as the magical snake coiled closer to him and settled his head against his chest. This was their usual routine and it soothed him to have something so familiar. Eolas too was a good spy, knowing to give him only the most pertinent information. Although, he was not a docile creature by any means and so enjoyed talking back to Salazar. He would not have it any other way.

“That Dumbledore man had a meeting with his little Order after you left,” Eolas started out with a tired hiss. “Nothing extraordinary. They were merely speaking about the attack that happened on the train. Nothing new, I am sure.” The snake paused for a moment as he shifted further on the bed and coiled tighter against Salazar’s warmth. “You were mentioned. What you did and how you fought was brought up. Dumbledore seemed the most interested. I would be wary of that man.”

“You have said that before, Eolas,” Salazar said tiredly, though his tone was serious. He didn’t know what was on Dumbledore’s mind. Perhaps the man was scouting out new allies for his war against this Dark Lord of theirs? Salazar knew better than to assume, but there was something about the older wizard that set him on edge. He didn’t think the old Headmaster was bad, just that he was someone to be wary of. He had time yet to figure it out.

Letting out a loud sigh, Salazar settled himself. It was late and he had a long day of classes tomorrow. The wards over the commonroom would alert him to any incidents, or if any student tried to sneak out, so he let himself drift off into dreams of crumbling graveyards and chilling laughter.

((Page Break))

((Hogwarts- Past))

Godric passed a hand over his face as he lay in bed. It was early morning and he was up as he always was at this hour. Salazar always seemed to be up earlier though, he thought with a rough chuckle. He groaned then and dug the heel of his palm into the spot between his brows. His thoughts felt sluggish and full of a thick fog. Pieces of thoughts floated around and never really seemed to piece themselves together. On top of the fog, it was as if his head was held in a vice. The pressure was unrelenting. He could do with a bit more sleep, but he did not know if it would actually help or not. The pressure alone might keep sleep at bay, so he sat up and glanced over as Fawkes crooned softly. The phoenix had recently gone through a burning and was in the last stages of recovery. His young feathers were falling away, replaced by the mature feathers of an adult phoenix. His mind would likely return soon, if it hadn’t already, so would no longer be taken by the instincts of a baby.

Fawkes gave another little soft cry, the sound one that actually helped to soothe the pressure in his skull. He smiled thankfully as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and then ran his fingers through his wild hair. But as the pressure lessened, full lucidity returned and the events of the night before sharpened with sickening clarity. Oh, by the ancient magic, what had they done? Godric’s head shot up and the wizard nearly flew out of bed, the suddenness startling Fawkes into a squawk. Godric threw on some clothes before he bolted out the door. In his haste he never even stopped to make himself look presentable. He was lucky enough that it was early and the students were still in bed.

Godric first ran across the inner yard and down to Salazar’s chambers where he pounded on where he knew where the entrance was. It had been sealed off so only a blank wall remained, but he was desperate. He slammed his palms against the unyielding stone and ignored the way it scraped at his palms. He was distantly thankful that it was so early and there were no students that milled about. He didn’t have to worry about any of them seeing the state he was in, not that he was likely to have noticed anyways. His focus had tunnelled in on the wall in front of him as desperation tore at his chest.

“Salazar! Let me in!” He said as he continued to slam his hand against the wall and prayed the man was still there, though doubt gnawed. He had given Salazar twenty-four hours, but Godric doubted that the man would have waited that long. He had likely disappeared well into the night. Vanished into the night, banished from Hogwarts. By the gods, what had they been thinking? Godric was nearly sick when he remembered the look of betrayal on his friend’s face. “Salazar, please!” He yelled as he tried again, hoping against hope that Salazar would miraculously still be there.

Though he could not say he was surprised, Salazar did not suddenly appear. Godric let out a mournful sound as his mind whirled with a million thoughts. He was quiet only a moment before he ran for Rowena’s rooms instead. He operated fully on instinct and desperately hoped she might know what to do. He didn’t even put thought to the possible consequences there might be for disturbing her this early. Luckily, the witch did open the door even though she levelled a dark look at Godric for how he had woken her so early in the morning of a day when they did not even have classes. She had stayed up late the night before after all.

With a sigh of annoyance, and not quite awake yet that morning, Rowena deepened her glare. “What is it, Godric?” She asked irritably before something seemed to click and she finally took in the man’s frenzied appearance. He didn’t seem to be too fazed by her attitude and it worried her. With it, a frown twisted her regal features. “Godric?” She lingered only a moment longer before she quickly ushered him inside and had him sit down on a chair. Rowena opened her mouth to ask again what was wrong, but Godric beat her to it.

“We… we kicked him out,” Godric said mournfully. “He is gone, Rowena. He is not in the school anymore. I checked.” His strong fingers moved to his vibrant hair and tugged on the strands. “Oh, Rowena… how could we have been so stupid?” He didn’t even look at the woman, though his tone pleaded with unspoken words. He needed to know that she felt just as guilty as he did, but he couldn’t bear to look up at her in case he was wrong.

Rowena had a strange look on her face that Godric missed because he wasn’t looking at her. There was confusion before it suddenly cleared and the woman looked a little horrified. The events of the night before finally came back to her, but uncertainty still clung to her thoughts. They would not kick Salazar out for no reason, right? They couldn’t have. So she tried to reason with Godric, though she still sounded as if she was trying to convince herself as well. “He was teaching the Dark Arts to the children, Godric. We couldn’t let him…”

She was cut off as Godric slammed his fist into the arm of the chair. “Damn it, Rowena! It is hardly any reason to banish him…” He trailed off and pulled on his hair again as his anger crumbled, replaced by guilt. “I should have spoken to him properly. What is the defense of Dark Arts if one doesn’t understand the Art itself? We trusted Salazar to teach them properly just as I taught the Natural Arts and their counters. By the gods, I have used Dark spells myself! I am no Dark wizard, but nor am I fully Light. We long ago made peace with him, Rowena! So why now? And to banish him!” Godric felt wracked with guilt. What was wrong with him? How could he have done that to Salazar? How could they have all betrayed him like that? He wasn’t the only one to blame, but he felt that the worst guilt was on him for having been the one to tell Salazar. “We had agreed before this all started that Salazar would teach the Dark Arts. We agreed to it and trusted him to do it.”

Rowena hesitated before she placed a dainty hand on Godric’s shoulder, the turmoil in the man obvious. “We have not touched the wards yet, Godric,” she started in a soothing tone. “He can still return. Send Fawkes to him. Your familiar should be well enough to travel now, should he not? Send a letter to Salazar, asking him to come back. Perhaps we were too hasty in our judgement.” She paused before she continued. Rowena hated to be wrong about anything. “Ask him to allow us a second chance to talk to him, though we do not deserve it.” She added on the last part softly.

There was barely a pause for Godric to finish processing Rowena’s words before he surged to his feet. He immediately started for the door, as he did not even pause to thank Rowena. The wizard seemed to have a resurgence of energy, brought on by what Rowena had suggested. “Of course! How could I have not thought of that?”

He took a quick stride out the door as he barely stopped himself from a full out run. It left Rowena alone to her own thoughts. And, while she wasn’t quite in the same state as Godric was in, she could not stop the deep guilt that she felt. She was supposed to be logical. She should have put more thought into the decision of banishing Salazar. It shouldn’t have come to this at all, like a nagging and invasive thought that left as suddenly as it had come, so she was deeply concerned. Something wasn’t right and there was this deep foreboding feeling that she had. It gnawed at her, worrying her. Helga only made it worse when she visited Rowena in tears, though she wouldn’t speak about what was upsetting her so badly. Rowena knew it just had to do with Salazar.

Back in his room, Godric immediately hurried over to his desk once he burst through the door. He fully intended to write out a quick note to Salazar that was full to the brim with apologies. Once he had finished, he gave it to Fawkes while he explained what had happened. The bird gave him a disapproving look, enough to make Godric beg his familiar to bring the note to Salazar. Godric knew that if there was anyone who could find the wizard, it was Fawkes.

Thankfully, the creature accepted the note and left with a burst of flame. It left Godric lost in his thoughts. The loudest of which was the observation of how readily the phoenix left to go find Salazar. It sent another slice of pain to cut through Godric’s heart. He knew Fawkes liked the dark haired wizard. He should have taken that into consideration. Salazar was not evil. He did not have evil machinations. Fawkes proved that. And yet, Godric had still done the unthinkable.

Now all he had was to wait. Godric slumped down on his bed and ran his fingers through his hair. He let his hands drop into his lap then and stared down at them. He might as well make some sort of attempt to set himself in order, right? He wanted to look at least halfway presentable when Salazar hopefully came back. The man would tease him mercilessly otherwise. Though Godric would definitely deserve it. But it was hard to think on an empty stomach. Yet still, Godric ended up remaining where he was as he worried over when Fawkes would come back and if the phoenix would bring Salazar back with him.

But when Fawkes reappeared several hours later, Godric’s note was still firmly clasped in the bird’s beak and Salazar was nowhere to be seen. With a sense of foreboding that clenched his heart and stole his breath, Godric took the note back from the bird. Part of him worried that Salazar was so deeply hurt that he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. But this did not prepare Godric for the truth of why Salazar hadn’t received his note.

‘I could not find him, Godric Gryffindor. He has vanished and I cannot sense him.’ Fawkes’ words were blunt, but they were somehow still spoken in a gentle manner.

But the gentle tone did nothing to keep Godric from taking the news badly. His mind twisted the words and he took the meaning to be that Salazar was dead. There couldn’t be any other reason why Fawkes hadn’t been able to sense him, right? Immediately, many different scenarios rushed through his head as he thought about his friend lying somewhere dead. Surely his friend had not taken his own life? Or, perhaps, he had been killed in an accident? Neither option made him feel any better. But it was the first thought that went through his head that killed Godric the most. No, he refused to believe that Salazar could have taken his own life. He refused to. But he could not get the image of Salazar’s betrayed expression out of his head. It looped over and over on an endless repeat.

With a strangled sound, Godric suddenly lurched from the bed before he emptied his stomach in the chamber pot. With a cough, he spit into the metal bowl before he used his wand to vanish the mess. With the mess gone, he sat back with a pained moan and pulled on his hair in agitation. He had failed his friend. Godric trembled violently then, his expression lined with grief. No, Salazar was more than just a friend. Salazar was his brother and he had betrayed him in the worst of ways. Godric would never be able to forgive himself for that. Never.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last time:

Letting out a loud sigh, Salazar settled himself. It was late and he had a long day of classes tomorrow. The wards over the commonroom would alert him to any incidents, or if any student tried to sneak out, so he let himself drift off into dreams of crumbling graveyards and chilling laughter.

Chapter Five

It was early morning that saw Salazar down in the Great Hall. He slipped into his seat just as platters of breakfast foods appeared on the table. As he gathered a plate together for himself he took the opportunity to see what students had made it to breakfast. All looked sleepy and most didn’t seem to be pleased to be up so early, but it was mostly older years. The majority of them too were Ravenclaws, much to his amusement. Some things just hadn't changed even in a thousand years. Salazar smiled to himself and settled back in his chair. As he picked up his knife to start in on his meal, he looked down the table. There were not many professors there either, but they started to filter in as he buttered his toast.

Once he had the chance to finish off his food, Salazar stood up from his spot and gathered the stack of parchments he had placed near his plate. A good portion of his House had finally trickled in so, as the children tucked in, Salazar approached them to pass out the schedules. For those who had still not made it down to the Hall, Salazar handed off their timetables to the prefects with instructions to hand them out. “Basic instructions on how to find each classroom are written on the back of the parchments for the first years. Please make sure they are aware,” he told them as he handed over the stack to one of them. Salazar didn’t want any of his little snakelings getting lost in the vast castle.

He left the teenagers to their meals and to their instructions then, so took the path down to his dungeons. He greeted various students as they passed, polite to all of them no matter their House. As he descended the steps into the dungeons, he made his first stop his office. The dungeon corridors were quiet with shadows that played on the walls from the torches that lined the hallways. In his office, he gathered up the stack of parchments he had prepared and headed down to the classroom.

Inside the classroom, Salazar set the parchment down on the desk and then turned to study the rest of the room. He had spent some time in this room already, but that had been mostly cataloging the ingredients that lined the walls of the classroom and in the student cupboard. Snape had kept a tidy classroom, but Salazar had wanted to familiarize himself with the set up. He had cleared away some of the ingredients if they were questionable in freshness or he felt as if they had no place in his classroom. Salazar had suspected that some of them were likely the result of earlier professors and not Snape himself. With the shelves cleared, it made the classroom less claustrophobic. He had also provided better lanterns for the gloomy classroom, a step away from the oppressive atmosphere that Snape had possibly fostered.

He had not taken the chance to rearrange the workstations yet, but he had some time before his first class started. So Salazar drew his wand and studied the layout. He flicked his wand then and used it like a conductor’s wand to move the stations into a better configuration. It made the classroom more open and, hopefully, more inviting. As he tucked his wand away and rounded his desk, the first of his students started to arrive. He greeted them all politely as they trickled into the room and found seats, though he gave little winks to the children that waved to him.

Once all of the students had arrived, Salazar stood up and picked up a piece of parchment. He then took roll, pleased when all of the children really were there. He lowered the parchment then and offered the first years a smile. “Welcome to your first potions’ class. And your first class at Hogwarts,” he said as he leaned back against his desk. “I hope that it exceeds your expectations. Now, I want you all to stand next to the wall,” he instructed them. It took them a moment as confused glances were exchanged, but eventually the students gathered themselves up and stood back as instructed. They kept themselves separated, the Gryffindors on one side of the room and the Slytherins on the other side. Just as expected.

While they stared at him in confusion, Salazar smiled and approached the first pair of desks. “Now then,” he said with a small chuckle. “Mister Cromwell and Miss Langley, take a seat here.” He waited patiently for the small pair to cautiously approach the seats. Cromwell was one of his Slytherins and Langley was a Gryffindor. He smiled down at them as they glanced at each other as they perched on their stools. “I know this is unconventional for what you would be expecting, but this will be your seat for the year,” he spoke to the two, but lifted his eyes to the rest of the students to address them as well. “I am aware of the rivalries between your two Houses. They have no part in this class.” He moved on toward the next worktables and called over two more students. “You will learn to get along for the sake of the class. If not, you risk detention or perhaps even failure of the class.” Salazar warned the class of first years gently, his gaze stern as he directed each student to their assigned seat. “The outside world is full of rivalries, often petty. When you leave Hogwarts, you will need to learn to work with all sorts of people in your careers whether or not you like them. Of course, you have a long time until you need worry about that, but let us build the foundation now.”

There were more Gryffindors than there were Slytherins, so Salazar made a few trios with at least one Slytherin in the group. He would keep a close eye on them so the Gryffindors would not gang up on their Slytherin counterpart, but that was true for most of the room. He vowed to treat them all fairly, even as Head of Slytherin House. Especially because he was Head of House. He didn’t want rumors of unfair treatment towards his Slytherins that would be more harmful than good for them.

But soon they were all seated. Salazar ignored their glares towards their partners as he returned to his desk to pick up a stack of parchment. They would hopefully learn to at least be civil with each other. “Now then. I am aware that most of you will know nothing about potions. However, I am not foolish enough to believe that all of you are entirely clueless. As such, our first class today will be this test I have put together for you. I want you all to work on it for the rest of the period. When you are finished, you may place the test on my desk before leaving.” He gave them a reassuring smile as he started to pass the parchments out by placing them face down on the workstations. “This test includes everything that I intend for you to learn this year. As such, it will not affect your grade in any way but instead will let me accurately gauge how much you all know. Once they are graded, they will be returned to you so you will know yourselves what you should focus on during your studies. Do not worry if you cannot confidently answer any of the questions.”

Salazar returned to the front of the room and faced them again. “Last thing. I have taket the liberty of procuring new books for the class that we will be using instead of the one originally assigned. You will find them stacked beside the door, so be sure to take one on your way out. These books are yours to keep for the year, but must be returned at the end of term. So please be careful to not lose them or damage them," he explained to them before he motioned to the blackboard behing him. "Your homework will be written on the board. You may begin,” he instructed, then watched as the children turned over the tests. As they all started, Salazar turned and went to the chalkboard to write out their homework. He wanted them to read the first two chapters of their book and prepare questions for discussion during their next class on the importance of how ingredients were handled. He did not want to overwhelm them with homework on the first day. After he set the chalk back down on the ledge, Salazar settled himself down at his desk again. “Mister Rainwood?” He called out suddenly, so his voice made a large portion of the class jump in surprise as it broke the silence. He ignored it as he pulled a blank piece of parchment towards himself. “I do not tolerate cheaters in my class. I will not take points this time, but this is your only warning. Do your own work,” the man said lightly as he uncapped a bottle of ink. He hadn’t even looked up. Thankfully, it was the only warning he did need to give out. They worked quietly for the rest of the period.

Once the last of the children left, Salazar sat back in his chair and let out a soft sigh. It had been rather tame, but he thought that the first class had gone well. He had fifteen minutes until his next class came, so he took the time to dry the ink on his parchment and close the paper into the book he had been making notes from. He ran his fingers through his hair, the dark wavy strands parted off to the side and left loose but for a small close braid over his left ear. A casual style that he only wore because he had not planned any brewing.

The next class was another group of Slytherin and Gryffindor students, but they were second years. He would have to break some habits that had not yet had a chance to settle into the first years, but he tried not to let it colour his expectations. They certainly would not be at the level he wanted them at if Snape’s syllabus was anything to be believed, however. He could work with it. Didn’t mean it wouldn’t be exhausting. Salazar heaved a sigh before he stood up and made a round of the empty workstations as he placed down the tests he had made up for his second years. He made his way back to his desk and sat down in time for the students to start wandering in. The tests were spelled mildly with sticking charms to keep the students from sneaking a peek, but he could see a number of them try. A few even tried a finite, though he gently asked them to leave the parchments where they were. Still, it made him proud to see them using their minds. He said nothing else though as he stood up to erase the chalkboard.

When he turned back to them, he rounded his desk to lean against it and survey them mildly. They all sat segregated, something that he had expected of them. They were quiet though a few whispered amongst themselves as they shot him little glances. Salazar said nothing for a long moment until he was sure that the last of the students had taken their seat. Salazar straightened then and offered a polite smile. “Welcome to second year potions,” he greeted them. “I hope that I can exceed the standards you have come to expect from your previous professor. So, to begin with, I ask that you all go stand against the wall,” he ordered as he repeated the process that he had gone through with the first years.

This time, as he directed them to their new seats, he received many more complaints. Looking at them all sternly once he had returned back to his desk, Salazar took his seat. “I will tell you what I told my previous class.” He looked at them all closely as he knew he had their attention. “I do not care for the rivalries between Houses while in my classroom. You will learn to get along with them for the sake of this class. I would hate to give you all detention or fail you because you could not set aside silly rivalries.”

He folded his hands on the top of his desk then and waited patiently for the young teens to calm down. Once they finally had, he cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. “Thank you. Now, your previous Professor left with me his syllabus. It gave me an idea where he would have left your studies at the end of the year, but does not give me any idea where you all actually stand. He and I are two very different teachers, put emphasis on different things. As I do not know you or know what you all are capable of, I have taken the liberty of drawing up a test for you.” He let his expression soften then. “I assure you that it shall not affect your grade at all, but I ask that you take this seriously. You will find there are hard questions and easy questions, but do what you can. I do not expect any of you to be able to answer them all correctly. When you are finished, place them on my desk and then you may leave.” Salazar next explained the new course books available to them before he stood and waved his wand to release the sticking charms. “You may all begin.” He then turned to grab a piece of chalk to write out their assignment, one similar to the first years. “Do not forget to check the board for your homework,” he warned as he wrote it out. As they started on the test, he graded the ones from the class before.

The rest of the day had followed in this pattern. When the lunch break came around, Salazar remained in his classroom to continue to grade the tests he had already given, though he requested a house elf bring him something simple to eat. The rest of the afternoon had continued in the same thread as the morning, but classes were finally over. He remained in his classroom for awhile longer, a few of the tests spread out in front of him. From what he had read already, he had begun to gain an idea of where to start. However, it was a very grim picture in his opinion. The students, first years aside, were not at the standard he would have liked them to be. He understood that things would change over the years, but most of the students were behind where they should be. Some seemed to be more natural brewers, but they were few and far between. He was going to lose precious time trying to reteach them facts they should already know. Even the seventh years were having problems and it exhausted him to think how he was going to correct some of the problems.

But he did have to look on the positive side though and there truly was a silver lining. In his own time he would not have been able to assign written work for quite some time as many children had entered Hogwarts not knowing how to read or write. They would have had to take special classes for that. But now the students came into school already knowing how to read and write at least the basics. And by basics, he did mean basics. He could only dread the lack of development of such skills, but he did plan to speak with the Headmaster about the problem he foresaw.

“Professor Evans?” A quiet voice spoke from the doorway and broke Salazar from his thoughts. He lifted his head to see that it was one of his little snakelings, so he let himself smile.

“Mister MacAlister, is it?” Salazar said gently as he leaned back in his chair to give the boy his full attention. “Is there something that I can help you with?” He asked curiously, but he did try not to push. Rory MacAlister shifted nervously in the doorway as he looked towards his feet. Salazar waited patiently, but he did softly invite the boy further into the classroom.

The small boy straightened slightly, but he remained where he was as he bit nervously as his lip. “You said… we could always come to you if we needed help, right?” He asked as he fidgeted with something in his hands.

Salazar wanted to immediately reassure the young boy, but he paused a moment to quietly assess Rory. He then stood up and ushered the boy further into the classroom. He closed the door behind them and pulled up a stool for Rory. Once the boy was seated, he settled against the corner of his desk. He did not want to seem imposing. So he gave Rory a reassuring smile and gave a nod. “Of course, snakeling,” he told the boy gently, but then did not say anything else. He waited for the boy to continue speaking as he had often found that children would try to fill the silence. If given enough time to let the silence stretch, Rory would tell him what was on his mind.

Salazar waited patiently, but Rory said nothing and instead held out a crumpled piece of parchment with downcast eyes. As the dark haired wizard took the offered parchment, the boy was finally prompted to speak. “It’s from my parents, sir. I wrote to them last night and I got that during lunch,” he spoke quietly as his eyes remained fixed on the worn stones of the floor.

Salazar frowned at how his Slytherin acted as he opened up the crumbled letter. He read it carefully, and without high hopes. It was not a short letter, but he was able to skim it to get the gist of the contents. Said contents made his eyes narrow in anger as he went through the written lines. He controlled himself and let the anger drain away from his expression. With a deep breath, Salazar set the letter down on the desk beside him before he sank to his knees next to Rory and took the boy’s hands into his own. “Mister MacAlister… Rory. Look at me, son,” he coaxed quietly. When the boy finally looked up at him, Salazar offered a small smile. He had always had a soft spot for the students, his Slytherins above all. He thought of them as his own children. Especially since so many of them had not had families of their own, or had been rejected by what families they did have.

“I know you barely know me, that you have very little reason to trust me just yet. But I want you to believe me when I say that you have done nothing wrong,” he spoke softly, but firmly. “Society tells us that we must bow to the pressures of our families. That same society tells us that Slytherins are evil.” He gently squeezed Rory’s hands when the young boy flinched. “But it is all a load of horse shit.” He could not hold back the smile that stole across his lips when Rory startled at his cuss. Salazar chuckled and stood up. “I do not want you to believe a word of it. Do not take my word for it, but do not take your mother’s words at value either. You should be proud to be a Slytherin.”

The wizard took a step back to give Rory some room, but the boy watched him aptly as he moved. Salazar tried not to smile too widely and kept his expression gentle, but firm. “If your parents cannot be happy for you, then that is their loss, Rory. Being a Slytherin does not make you a bad wizard, does not make you a future criminal. As a Slytherin it means that you have ambition, that you are intelligent but will not believe everything at face value. You know to look for the truth. You can see the truth of the world.” He paused after he stressed his last comment. His expression softened a little bit then as he leaned back against his desk again.

Rory curled his fingers in his robes and straightened his back. “You really think so, sir? I know, I mean, you’re not just saying that because you’re the Head of Slytherin?” The boy looked almost desperate to believe him.

He took a moment to think over the question to decide how best to answer it. Finally, he breathed out softly. “I know so. But. I do not want you to take my word for it. Instead, see it as if it is a step in the right direction. I want you to find the truth for yourself. It has not even been a week, after all. Ask the right questions and remember too what I said at the beginning of term. Slytherin needs to stand united.”

Rory gave a sharp nod of his head and relaxed his fingers from his robes. “Yes, sir. I will.”

Salazar relaxed his shoulders a bit and nodded his head as well. “I am glad to hear it. I want you to come to me again if you are sent any more letters like that one, though. I also want you to be proud of who you are.” Salazar gave a more playful grin then, one most often reserved for his Slytherins. “Now, then. Did you have any other questions for me, Mister MacAlister? Perhaps about any homework you may have gotten from the other professors? I might teach potions, but I know a thing or two about other subjects,” he winked as he tried to lighten the mood. It worked.

Rory giggled and then shook his head. “No, sir,” he said as he offered the professor a smile. “Thank you, sir. For listening. I should probably go to dinner now. I’m starving!”

Salazar chuckled as he led Rory over to the door. There was the boldness of youth he had been waiting for. Even his Slytherins and all of their masks could not hide what was human nature while at such a young age. “Good lad. Off you go then. And make sure you finish your homework on time!” He said sternly, though he had a faint smile that curled his lips. Rory only gave a quick wave before he ran off.

As the boy disappeared out the door, Salazar burned the letter that had been forgotten on his desk. The first years were often more quick to trust, but he was glad that Rory had come to him. He liked being able to help his students, and he was sure that there would be others that would need it. Still, he had to wait for them to come to him or he could not help them. The older years would be harder to convince. That would be a challenge for another time. Salazar glared at the pile of ash that was left behind before he banished it away. This was not the first time he had seen a letter like that. It was not going to be the last either, he was sure of that. What he was also sure of was that he would help his students just like he always did. However, it was time for dinner and he had other things on his mind as well. So he gathered up all the tests together and bound them together with a quick charm into a leather binder. With them secured, he carefully slid it into one of the drawers of his desk before he followed the familiar pathways to the Great Hall.

As he settled into his seat, Salazar was greeted by a smile from the Headmaster. The old man’s eyes twinkled as he saluted him with his goblet and gave a little nod. “Good evening, Herrick. How was your first day of classes? I did not see you at lunch,” the man’s questions were light but with a probing edge.

“I tested my students today. Just to gauge for myself what their knowledge levels are at,” he told Dumbledore as he gathered together a bowl of the hearty stew that was offered. “It went well enough, though perhaps not quite to my expectations. But then, perhaps I am too exacting. I will learn to temper my expectations as I settle in as a professor.” He scooped up a bit of his stew with a piece of bread. “It was only the first day. However, I did want to ask you about something that I noticed.” He glanced over to the Headmaster. “Of course, I do not want to spoil your dinner and I would like the opportunity to discuss it with you along with the other Heads.”

He was graced with an assessing gaze from the old Headmaster as Dumbledore considered him. He gave in then and lifted his goblet again to take a sip. “Of course, my boy. We can meet later after curfew, if you are agreeable.” Salazar gave a nod to say it was just fine with him. “Wonderful. I will let the others know to meet us in my office. The password changed this morning, so Peppermint Toads will let you in,” the old man told him with a wink. Salazar had to hold back a sigh, but he thanked the man for the password.

Salazar returned to his meal then. Once he finished, he excused himself and headed back down to his classroom to retrieve the leather bound book of student tests. He brought it back to his office and settled into his chair, but could not bring himself to return to grading them just yet. Instead he pulled over an open book from the corner of his desk and absently flipped through it. He could just not help himself, could he? He huffed out a soft laugh and leaned back in his chair. He just wanted what was best for the children. Both his Slytherins and the rest of Hogwarts.

The time passed quickly then when Salazar finally returned to marking the tests. When curfew neared though, he closed the book of tests and stashed it securely in his desk. He gathered up a few books and another bound book of parchments before he headed up to the Headmaster’s office. He ended up the last one to arrive, though he supposed he preferred it that way. Dumbledore had transfigured his desk into a table instead. He sat at the head of it, with Professor McGonagall seated at his right side. She offered him a smile that lightened her stern face for a moment. Salazar gave her a nod in greeting before he gave a greeting to the other two Heads as well. Professors Sprout and Flitwick sat beside each other, so left one spot open next to McGonagall. Though he would have preferred to stand, Salazar took the seat next to the Deputy Headmistress and settled his books on the table. He greeted Dumbledore politely then as the man leaned forward and steepled his fingers on his desk.

“Good evening, my boy. You mentioned you had some concerns?” Dumbledore asked him in a light tone that did not betray the thoughts behind his twinkling eyes. “I confess that I am curious what would concern you after only the first day of classes.”

Salazar offered the Headmaster a polite smile as he slid one of the books from his stack. As he did this, the wizard cleared his throat and began. “As I prepared for my new classes, I did some research into Hogwarts’ past,” he started out. “I went through the archives for anything I could find that might help me make the lessons engaging or even give an idea on how to conduct my classes.” He flipped through the book he had selected to a page that he had highlighted. “I found a number of useful things, but also some intriguing finds. However, I held my concerns until I had a chance to actually meet the students and interact with them as their professor.” He pointed out the areas in the text that he had highlighted with a temporary spell. “Here, in particular, I found a few references to a number of classes that had been dropped from the curriculum. Now, I understand that the term has just begun and so this is a poor time to bring this to attention. However, after the interactions I had with the students’ work, I wish to express my concern over the fact that these in particular have been dropped.”

The other professors all leaned forward over the book, though McGonagall glanced up at him in askance while the Headmaster only continued to watch him with an even stare. Salazar leaned back in his chair and took a slow breath before he continued. “My first concern is the lack of a literacy class. I have no wish to presume, but I can only imagine that you all have the same disquiet over the written work of the children. There are spelling errors, grammatical errors, and I wondered occasionally if some of them even know how to legibly handle a quill.” He shook his head then and breathed out a sigh, glad that none of them had moved to interrupt him yet. “My understanding is that every student arrives knowing at least the basics of reading and writing from either tutors or schooling in the mundane realm, but nothing is done to help them improve on such skills. So, I propose that a literacy class is established.”

Salazar paused to allow the other Heads to discuss the idea with the Headmaster. Professor McGonagall was the most vocal in her distaste of the new idea, though Salazar could see the worry that creased her eyes and fuelled her dismissal. “Albus, there is no time to add in such a class. I can understand the merits of helping students with their written skills, but surely the children have enough on their plates.”

Salazar cut in, though he kept his tone soothing so he would not rile up any more feathers. Time was certainly a valid issue. “I did take that into consideration. After all, you are right, Professor. Especially with the addition of the duelling course. However, I believe I can offer a solution. Before term started, I came across some workbooks in schooling catalogues. They were geared towards pureblood tutors that parents hire during the summer breaks. The workbooks include ones for literacy. Not all of the students have access to these books, or likely even know they exist. I would like if we could provide these resources for the students, especially those who come from poor families or have mundane parents. It is something they would be able to work on in their own time and at their own pace. If something more is needed, instructions on using a quill as an example, perhaps remedial lessons could be provided.”

The suggestion appeared to ease McGonagall’s worries and she settled back in her chair. “The idea does have merit,” she decided softly.

“If I may,” Flitwick spoke up then as he glanced over to Salazar before he settled his gaze on Dumbledore’s pensive face, the small professor’s hand’s folded in his lap. “I do believe that Professor Evans is correct. My Ravenclaws, the muggleborns especially, have oft times approached me on the very subject, Albus. If such a thing could be provided to all students, I believe it would benefit them beyond Hogwarts. Especially for the students who are unaware of such resources.” Sprout only nodded her agreement.

Well, that had certainly gone better than he thought it would. The headmaster seemed to be intrigued by the idea and open to such a suggestion. Unfortunately it was the easier of Salazar’s concerns. But he waited for the old man to respond in any manner, which appeared when Dumbledore gave a little nod. “I can understand where you are coming from, Herrick. I will have to look into such a thing and see if it would be feasible. Thank you for the suggestion.” He paused then and settled more into his chair. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss? I believe that you mentioned that you had multiple concerns you wished to bring to our attention?”

Salazar gathered what courage he had and sorted through his parchments. “I wanted to preface this with the knowledge that we all know that mundane born students bring new blood into the bloodlines and keep magic strong.” He took a deep breath, though kept his voice even. “It is not so much a class that has been dropped, but old traditions. In the early 19th century, the acting Headmaster of the time enacted an entire overhaul of the school. One of which was that he abolished the religious practices that were conducted at the school. I do not want to suggest that we force students into participating, but I believe that we are depriving them of our rich history and practices by not allowing for religious rituals to be held publicly on the school grounds.”

He had only gotten so far when someone smacked their palms on the table. It startled Salazar and he turned his head quickly to see McGonagall’s stern gaze. “No. Absolutely not,” she forced out. “I do not care what you practise in private, Professor Evans, as long as it in no way harms the well-being of the students. However, that is where I draw the line. Muggleborn students already struggle against the views of their pureblood counterparts. We cannot condone practices that might be seen as siding with either side. Especially with the political climate and war that looms over us!”

Salazar wanted to snarl back with the comment that they had already made their stance and often seemed to side with the mundane born students over the pureblooded ones. He wanted to say that all students were equal, but with their actions they risked alienating the purebloods further. Nothing would change and more of their history would be lost. But he held his tongue and curled his fingers around the book that he held in his hands. Instead, he drew in a breath and tried to force down his rising anxiety. “I see that I have misread the situation,” he said evenly. “My apologies if I have offended you in some manner.” He forced his hands to remain steady as he carefully gathered up his materials. In his mind’s eye, his traitorous brain had superimposed more familiar faces over those of the Heads in front of him. Godric’s thunderous visage flickered over that of McGonagall’s tight expression. Helga’s fraught but downcast and unhelpful face slipped over that of Sprout’s uncomfortable features. Salazar tore his eyes away before they could land on the Headmaster or upon Flitwick.

“I have nothing else to add, Headmaster. Please, if you would think on my suggestions over the literacy course, I will feel as if I have done right by the students. Now, if you would excuse me, I apologize for my abruptness. I really need to be on my way.” The young man stood quickly from his chair and gathered his documents to his chest. He gave a formal, if quick, bow and hurried from the office before any of the others could protest. Perhaps Dumbledore could have prevented him from leaving, but he was allowed to disappear out the door.

Salazar’s steps took him back to his chambers and he was quick to dump his books onto his desk and lock the door with an impatient wave of his hand. The wizard took an abrupt breath before he was forced to grab onto the back of the chair with curled hands.

“Salazar Slytherin, you are hereby banished from Hogwarts.”

The words echoed in his mind and taunted him. With thick swallows against the lump in his chest, Salazar fought to not be sick. He had not properly dealt with these emotions. He had gone straight to the meadow where Cayden’s land had been to confront the younger man and had been almost immediately transported to the future. Since then he had too many other things that he had dealt with, the shock of being in the future only one of many. But now, it had all come crashing down on him. Honestly, he'd been running from it. Avoiding it. And now he couldn't keep pushing it to the side anymore. He had been betrayed by all of them. Everyone that he held dear. His brother by blood had betrayed him and his beliefs by the dark path he had travelled. His friends… Helga, Rowena, Godric … They had all gone behind his back and cast him out of the very school that he had helped to build. They had not even stopped to hear him out, to explain their blindsiding decision.

‘You need to calm down, Salazar Slytherin. Hogwarts is reacting to her founder’s pain,’ Fawkes’ voice suddenly cut through Salazar’s tumbling thoughts.

Immediately, the man was brought back to awareness and he realized that the castle was trembling faintly. Salazar immediately clamped down on his emotions. He cleared his throat then and he straightened while he slowly dragged his fingers away from their death grip on the back of the chair. They throbbed with the return of proper blood flow, but Salazar ignored it. “They all abandoned me, Fawkes,” he whispered, his voice carefully void of emotion. It did not stop the pain that slipped into his eyes.

‘After you left…’ Fawkes started, but Salazar cut the bird off with a violent movement of his hand.

“No!" His voice broke as he cut Fawkes off. "I cannot. I am not ready. Please, Fawkes. I do not want to hear you make excuses for them. I do not want to hear about them. I do not wish to speak with you,” Salazar said in a quavering voice before he turned on his heel. “Be gone, Fawkes. I will not let my emotions get out of control again.” He spoke the words bitterly before he slammed the bedroom door shut behind him. He knew he was running again, but could not gather up the energy to deal with it.

Instead, as he slowly undressed, Salazar fought to keep his thoughts blank. In front of his mirror he stood as he read the roadmarks of his life upon his skin. The scars that roped around his body from the various battles he had fought. The runes inked into the tender flesh of his forearms in bands, the bands of runes around his thighs. The broad shoulders and muscled chest built from his use of sword with shield. The scar upon his face that started as a thunderbolt above his eye and cut down through his brow, over his cheek, then disappeared into the close kept beard on his jaw with thick relief. It was this scar that caught his attention now, reddened as it was. From the moment his memories began, he had had the scar. From that first day onward it had fluctuated in its stages of healing. Now, it stood out against his pale skin with inflamed edges as if newly formed. It was certainly a curse scar, though he long could not figure out from where. With a sigh of irritation, Salazar found more cream to treat the wound. He still had not been able to do much research on what was happening and he hadn’t bothered to ask anyone about it. The topic certainly had not been at the top of his list of things to do.

As he chased the thoughts away, Salazar put the ointment away on a shelf and then pulled his thick hair up into a quick bun piled on the top of his head. He very much wanted to sleep, but his thoughts still raced about his head. So he turned and went to draw himself a bath instead. As he settled into the heated water, Salazar closed his eyes and relaxed with a sigh. He was so tired. Everything here was still new, still so different from what he remembered. And yet… it felt like history was repeating itself again. Would they kick him out of Hogwarts? His only home?

With an effort to calm his thoughts, Salazar sat up in the tub and washed himself slowly. It was only once his thoughts had finally started to drift towards sleep that Salazar eased himself from the tub. He headed to bed shortly after and it was there that Eolas joined him. With his familiar by his side, Salazar fell into an uneasy sleep filled with spiders and grims.

The next morning, Salazar was reluctant to head to the Great Hall. He had not slept well the night before and it dragged him physically, urged him to return to his bed. But he had dragged his feet through the corridors and to the side chamber nestled against the Great Hall. It was there in that private space that Salazar gathered his courage. He told himself that he had not rambled long enough to alienate himself from the rest of the staff. He had not made a complete fool of himself, even if it had felt like it at the time. He only had to keep his head held high and act as if nothing was amiss.

With these thoughts in mind, Salazar pushed open the door before his courage failed him. From there he was able to slip relatively unnoticed to his seat and settle in the rigid chair. With few others around him and conversation quiet in the Hall, Salazar gathered his breakfast from the selections available. It did not take him long before he felt the weight if Dumbledore’s gaze on him, however. As he tried to ignore the gaze as best as he could, Salazar started on his breakfast for an easy distraction. However, Dumbledore cleared his throat then as he intended on getting Salazar’s attention. The dark haired wizard took barely a second to silently steel himself before he looked over to the Headmaster with impassive eyes. “Yes?” He spoke simply, his expression carefully blank and yet somehow guarded.

Dumbledore inclined his head. “I have thought over your proposal. I agree that there are merits to such a program, so I have reached out to Flourish and Blotts to procure the necessary materials. Once they have arrived, the program can be announced.” He watched Salazar closely, though he kept his expression carefully neutral. He gave no word about the rest of the Head staff meeting. 

With a stiff nod, Salazar took a drink from his goblet and then settled it back down onto the table. “I am glad that you approve of my proposal, Headmaster. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have bare little time before I need to go prepare for my morning classes.” He had a double period with the seventh year students. There were woefully few of them, but he had high hopes that it would go well.

Luckily, the Headmaster left him alone again so Salazar focused on his breakfast. He quietly excused himself and slipped back out the side door. He craved the quiet of his classroom before the tension of classes began. The quiet and chill of the dungeon was soothing. Especially after the anxiety of the morning. So he was in a better state of mind, and he had just begun to go through his papers, when the door opened. As he looked up he was vaguely surprised to see that Zabini was standing there. He had thought it would be one of his students. “Is there something you needed? I did not expect you to be in the castle today,” he said as he stood from his chair. He knew the other male had been preparing to go on a mission for the Order, though he had not been privy to any of the details. He only knew that the other male would be leaving soon. “Do not tell me that you are going to miss me,” he teased lightly.

Zabini closed the door and shrugged his shoulders, though he gave a soft snort of amusement. “Of course not,” he drawled as he turned back to Salazar. “But I know you will be so lonely here without me, so I could not just leave without saying goodbye.” He gave the older man a smirk before he leaned against the door. “I know that neither one of us would call the other a friend, but I would like to think that we are not strangers. I didn’t feel right leaving Hogwarts without saying goodbye.” He tilted his head and focused on Salazar, his expression sobered. “I just wanted to say that it will probably be awhile before I come back. If all goes as it should. Dumbledore has me on a mission that I cannot really explain, and I do not actually know how long I’ll be gone.” He pushed away from the door then and walked over to Salazar. “If Slytherins had friends, we would be good ones,” he winked with an amused smirk, his voice teasing.

Salazar was quiet as he watched Zabini approach him. “Slytherins can have friends,” he said after a moment. “But we are not so quick to name them.” He did like Zabini, though he approached the companionship with caution. Zabini had a quick wit that made conversation entertaining. He also knew when to respect his privacy. “Maybe in another life,” Salazar commented finally. “Or, perhaps, in time.” He added on the last bit quietly before he held his hand out to Zabini. He clasped the man’s forearm then and gave a sharp nod. “Take care of yourself, Zabini.”

Once they broke the handshake, Salazar went back to his work as Zabini quietly let himself out the door. The green eyed wizard tried to focus on the page in front of him, though he could not help as his mind wandered to the mission that Zabini had left on. Something about it bothered him for some reason that he could not pinpoint, though he understood why he would not be included in the details. Details or not, he did not understand where the anxiety came from as he had never been the seer. That was all Helga. Yet, he felt ominous tidings in the air.

He spent the rest of the day in a blur of classes as he focused on his students rather than the pit in his stomach. He skipped lunch but for some tea that he had a house elf bring, but made himself go to dinner. He needed the food, needed the energy. He did enjoy the treacle tarts that were served as dessert, however. The taste of it was somehow nostalgic and niggled in the back of his mind. He savoured the fleeting moment.

Later, once he had settled into his office to adjust his syllabus, Salazar stopped cold when the warding mark on his hand suddenly flared. He hissed softly and was on his feet before he could think about it. He did not even bother to grab his robes and instead Salazar strode down the corridors singlemindedly towards the Slytherin commonroom. Once he reached the bare stretch of wall, Salazar hissed the password to the door to the Slytherin dormitories while he nearly slipped into actual parseltongue. As the door slid open, Salazar took a deep breath to stamp down on his anger. He did not want to yell at them, did not want to give them any reason to fear him.

So as he strode down into the commonroom, Salazar sent off a flicker of sparks across the dimly lit room to gather the attention of the students. “What exactly is going on here?” He demanded, though he kept his tone even. Many of the students looked to him with barely hidden surprise.

One somewhat brave soul finally piped up from a corner of the room, near one of the staircases to the actual dorms. “I’m sorry, professor. I don’t think any of us understand what you’re asking,” she started out but was quickly cut off by Salazar as he raised his hand.

“I do not appreciate being lied to,” he told her with a quiet sort of anger simmering beneath the surface. “I know you are all aware that I had told you all to settle disputes in secret, but to stand united.” He took a deep breath as he carefully dragged his gaze over each assembled student. “However, that never should have been taken as permission to bully your housemates. I do not know what your previous Head of House did, but I will absolutely not tolerate bullying. And that is what the wards alerted me to.”

There was uneasy silence before a weak voice spoke up from near the fire, “Wards can do that?”

“Wards can do many things,” Salazar responded coolly as he turned his head towards the boy who had spoken. “Especially in a school with the ancient sentience that Hogwarts has. The wards of Slytherin House are merely an extension of the school’s wards. It is not an omnipotent system, but enough for me to know what emotions are boiling over within these walls. When both fear and satisfaction mingle in the same space, there is little else that it could mean. So, I give you all one more chance. What has happened in my commonroom?”

The silence was uncomfortable, but Salazar stood strong as he waited. It only took a few moments longer before it became too much and a boy lifted his head to sneer slightly. There was uncertainty in his eyes, but he stared up at Salazar defiantly. “The brat over there is a mudblood, professor. I was only trying to teach him his place,” the fifth year waved his hand absently to a corner of the room where a small first year was curled up in a corner.

Salazar barely held back his temper, though he was careful to keep his expression as neutral as it was before. “I would have thought better of my House,” he spoke in a deceptively soft voice as he approached the corner. As he bent down, Salazar gave the child a more genuine smile. “Do not fret, little one. I am going to pick you up, alright?” After he got a little nod for permission, Salazar swiftly hoisted the too small child into his arms. As he turned, he settled a disappointed stare on the surrounding students. “I know you all have a lot of things that are going on right now. Especially the older years have their standardized exams to worry over by the end of the year. However, this is a topic that I am passionate over and it is one that you all will benefit from. So, starting tomorrow night, there will be mandatory lessons following dinner each Wednesday. They will be short lessons, a study session if you will, but all of you will be required to attend. I will make a formal announcement to the entirety of the House in the morning, but I must press upon you the necessity that you must not breathe a word of this to any of the other professors.” Salazar paused. “Am I understood?”

As Salazar strode towards the door, he barely paused long enough for the gathered students to respond. At the door, however, he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, and Mister Fellwood? You shall be serving detention with me this coming Friday after dinner. Meet me in the Potions’ classroom and do not be late. Anyone else I catch bullying their fellow housemates will also be given detentions.” Salazar then quickly disappeared out the door with the trembling first year still in his arms.

Once he entered into his office with the first year, Salazar gently set him down on a small couch in front of the hearth. “Mister Wolfe, is it?” He smiled softly then as he crouched down in front of the boy. He reached out then, but let his fingers hover near the boy’s cheek without touching him. “Do you mind if I take a look? I have a cream that should help,” he offered, but waited until he got permission before he carefully brushed some blonde hair away from the boy’s face. The professor carefully examined the bruise that was forming on Ian Wolfe’s cheek. “It is alright. It does not look too bad. Did you want to talk to me about what happened?” He received a sharp shake of the head in response. “Alright. I will not push.”

After he had stood up, Salazar went to get a bottle of bruise salve. He opened the clay jar and rubbed some of the herbal smelling paste into the boy’s cheek. “There. It will help with the swelling and make the bruising heal faster,” he said as he went to put the salve away. He was quiet a moment as he turned back to Ian. The boy had his head ducked again. “You know, being a good wizard has nothing to do with the purity of one’s blood,” he offered gently. “I will explain it more in the lessons on Wednesdays.” Ian had a guarded, if slightly hopeful, look on his face as he lifted his head to peer at his professor through his pale hair. “Be proud that you are a wizard, that you are a Slytherin. I know you will make me proud.”

Salazar smiled slightly and leaned against the edge of a table. “You may stay here for a little while longer before you go to bed. I do not want to force you to go back to the dormitories until you are ready. However, I do need to go patrol the corridors tonight for a few hours. You are welcome to stay here, if you wish, and I can escort you back to the commonroom when I return.”  He called for a house elf then and requested a tea set along with a few mini sandwiches. He waited for the elf to return with it before he carried the tray over to the little table next to the couch. “Go ahead and help yourself, alright? If you are not here when I return, then I want you to have a good night, mister Wolfe.” Salazar nodded to the first year and then headed to the door, but Ian’s soft voice stopped him.

“Sir? I… thank you,” the boy tripped over his words before he finally straightened his back and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Salazar let himself smile and inclined his head. “You are very welcome, snakeling. You are always welcome here if you need anything,” he reassured the boy before he slipped out the door. His office would be a safe place for Ian to calm down without Salazar seeming like an overbearing presence. And he really did need to make rounds about the castle.

The corridors were quiet but for the light snores of various paintings. He was left to his thoughts as he roamed the hallway, but eventually he could hear soft voices down a hallway that had no paintings. As he continued down the corridor, Salazar doused the light of his wand.  As the voices became a bit louder, he came upon a little broom cupboard just beneath a set of stairs. He had to roll his eyes at the predictability of young students as he grabbed a hold of the handle and wrenched it open. He opened his mouth to speak in a stern voice, but the world suddenly felt like it had started to tilt. He had to grab hold of the edge of the door to brace himself as his vision felt like it flickered in and out. Unbidden images of a cupboard under the stairs came to his mind. It was small and dusty. There was a child’s drawing pinned to the wall.

“Ah… Professor?” A young girl’s voice broke through whatever it was that had taken hold over him. Salazar passed a hand over his face before he slowly opened his eyes. He had been having strange dreams lately, but this was the first time that such a thing had happened while he was awake. It concerned him that, whatever it was, it was getting stronger. He wondered if it was at all connected to his curse scar. But that was a concern for another time, not when he had another pressing issue to take care of first.

So once he was able to focus again, Salazar turned his attention to the two students he had caught. Both watched him with a mixture of nervousness and worry. One girl wore Hufflepuff robes, a fact that made Salazar hold back a wry smile. Leave it to good old Hufflepuff to be worried over their teacher when they had just been caught out after curfew. “Do you want us to help you to the infirmary, professor?” The same girl asked him softly as her voice broke through his rambling thoughts.

Salazar cleared his throat. “No need to worry about me, young lady. Just the symptoms of the onset of a headache,” he waved off absently. The professor then focused his stern gaze on the young couple. “However. You should be more worried about yourselves. Ten points each from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for being out after curfew. If I catch either of you again, be sure that you will both be given detention. Now straight off to bed,” he warned them and then sent them off in the directions of their common rooms.

Once he was sure that they were gone, Salazar looked back at the broom closet. He frowned down at the generic little storage room before he closed the door firmly. Luckily, nothing else happened so Salazar was able to head off to his bed finally. As he stepped through the door and rubbed his face tiredly, he could not help but smile some when he saw that Ian was nowhere to be seen. Good. It was late and the young boy needed his rest. Luckily for him too it was time for bed at last. As he got himself into bed, it was not long before the man was deeply asleep. Again his dreams were filled with strange images, of flying keys and trolls in the school bathroom.

When Salazar woke early the next morning, he rolled out of bed not much more rested than he had when he had fallen to sleep. With the dread of a long day, he readied himself and then headed into his office to find a piece of parchment. He carefully wrote out the letter to inform his House of the evening tutoring lesson that he required of them. It would take place on Wednesday evenings after dinner where it would not interfere with any astronomy lessons or the duelling classes.

Satisfied with it, Salazar multiplied the letter with a simple spell. He then called for a house elf to deliver the letters to the students’ beds once they had left for their day of classes. With that taken care of, Salazar prepared for the rest of the day. It went about how could be expected, though he had taken his lunch period to work on some journals for his Slytherins. The house elves had been able to provide him a stack that he had enchanted.

By the time dinner passed, Salazar was ready and patiently waited in the common room for the students. Many of them looked confused or uncomfortable, but Salazar waited without a word until he was sure that they were all there. “All will be explained shortly,” he promised as he turned on his heel and led the way over to a tapestry of his personal crest. A whisper of his magic against the tapestry revealed a door as he pulled the fabric aside. The door opened with barely a sound and Salazar ushered the students inside.

As soon as they stepped in, the touches on the outer walls flared into life. The students all started to whisper as they crowded around the outer wall. Salazar closed the door to the hidden room once they were all inside. “Go on, find a seat. We will begin in a moment,” he instructed them as he remained by the doorway. He let his gaze survey the room as the students found seats in the circular desks.

The study room had been set up like a lecture hall with a few sets of stairs that descended down towards the bottom. There were three levels wrapping around in a half circle each with its own continuous set of benches and desks, but the most fascinating part of the room was the ceiling. Since the study hall was completely under the Black Lake, he had built a glass dome for the secret classroom using the same enchantments he had used on the commonroom windows into the loch. The students would be able to see fish and various creatures of the loch as they swam by.

“It’s fascinating what secrets the castle holds,” Salazar commented once the students were in their seats. The man descended the stairs to the lowest level before he turned to survey the students scattered around in the seats. There were woefully few of them in comparison to the other Houses. He shook his head of such thoughts and then cleared his throat. “How many of you are purebloods?” He asked then as he raised his voice just enough to be heard by all the students. Most of them raised their hands. Salazar nodded before he asked who were halfbloods. A few students reluctantly raised their hands, but a few more than he had expected. But, when he asked who were muggleborns, only three students raised their hands.

Salazar nodded his head and pulled off his outer robe before he set it down on the small desk in the center of the half circle. “Very good. Now then, the reason why I am giving you this extra lesson. I want each and every one of you to understand that blood status means nothing.” He then raised his hand to silence the protests that followed, though some he noticed were half hearted at best. “I know it is not how many of you were raised to believe. However, even if you do not believe me, I want you all to at least listen to what I say,” he told them sternly. “Blood has little to do with magical power. If anything, mundane born children in fact bring new blood and fresh power into the bloodlines. The only thing that purebloods have over the mundane born is magical knowledge. But why do you think that this school was built, if not to teach every young witch or wizard that walks through these walls?” He paused then before he got into depth with his lesson. “But, before we really begin, I want to reiterate that I want you all to come here every Wednesday. Also, it is in our best interests to refrain from letting any of the other professors know what we are doing. To aid in this, there is a secrecy spell on this room which will help you to keep the secret. It will not stop you from telling, but it will make it harder to speak about it so you have a chance to think before you speak. I would hope my Slytherins will be able to keep a secret that will help you get ahead of all your classmates from the other Houses.” He hoped the last part would appeal to their secretive and ambitious natures. If, that is, his Slytherins still truly had that nature.

“Now then. I took the liberty of procuring for you all blank journals to keep your thoughts about these lessons. I have enchanted them to keep your words hidden from the eyes of others beside you. You need only to sign your name in the cover. Guard them well. I will not be giving you another one if you manage to get it confiscated or lose it.” As he explained about the journals, he passed them out. Once he had finished, he returned to the center of the room and offered a smile.

“There will be no textbooks for this class, no homework that needs to be collected. I do expect you all to pay close attention and to contribute to any discussions. I will try to make it all as clear as I can. In the desks should already be inkwells and quills provided. Once you are all ready, we will begin.” He waited patiently then as his students shuffled around to grab the provided writing instruments and then settle down. Once he had their attention, he began. “Tell me, how many of you know the origins of magic,” Salazar asked curiously but no one raised their hands. He looked about, but nodded in acceptance. “Yes, I thought so. So how many of you know the Christian tale of how the world was created? You need not to believe it, I only ask if you have heard the story.” Most, if not all, of his Slytherins raised their hands. Salazar nodded once more. “Oh, it is a pity to see how much of our history has been lost,” he said softly as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Very good. Now, how many of you know about the Old Ways?” It was the modern name for the practices, but the term worked well enough.

Salazar watched then as many lowered their hands until all of those who still raised their hands were purebloods. “How many of you still practice it with your families?” He asked them curiously, only to see that most of the remaining hands lowered. Salazar nodded as he kept the sadness from his expression. He had expected as much. “Many of you will have little to no idea what I will next tell you, then.” He paused a moment to gather his thoughts and then unclasped his hands so he could hop up onto one of the desks to face the students. He folded his hands in front of him before he began.

“Long ago, before mankind ever wrote down a written record, the Gods walked freely among us. Each culture and peoples had their own gods that loved them. Magic has universal rules that all must follow, but there are multitudes of ways that magic can be worked upon the physical plane. As our world has grown, cultures have blended and we have taught each other the different ways that magic can be manipulated.” He paused then as he looked upon the faces of his wide eyed students. “In the time of the Founders, the Northmen had settled much of northern Scotland where Hogwarts is located. Their ways and their religion were especially popular with the magical community around Hogwarts at the time. The Northmen’s Gods loved the magical community here as if they were their own children as well.” The Norse Gods loved them in the ways a God could love a mortal. “It is their stories of magic that I am most familiar with and which has most influenced our magic practices here.”

Salazar leaned back on the desk a bit with another pause to let the students soak in his words. “Long ago, the goddess Freyja taught first the Aesir the mysteries of magic. She then brought its mysteries to us mere mortals, engraved into our very bodies with the knowledge. But, in that time, it was known to us as Seidhr. In the early days, it was the magic of seersight and the shaping of the future. Even the smallest acts can change the course of the future. Then Odinn brought us the knowledge of the runes, which expanded our abilities and fueled our growth.” He paused once more and closed his eyes briefly as a smile came to his lips.

“Hung I was on that windy Tree

nine whole days and nights,

stabbed with a spear, offered to Odinn,

myself to mine own self given,

high on that Tree of which none hath heard

from whence its roots has run,” he recited the first stanza of a runesong.

He took a breath then and opened his eyes again. He was pleased to see that the children seemed to hang on his every word. “When Odinn brought to us the runes, it broadened our awareness of Seidhr. With Seidhr in our blood, granted to us by Freyja and strengthened by Odinn, we went out into the world.”

One of his students raised their hand suddenly, so Salazar nodded at them to speak. “But doesn’t that make us better than muggles then?” The boy asked it, though he seemed unsure of even his own question. “We were blessed by Gods.”

Salazar shook his head firmly. “No, it does not. All of us humans are blessed by the Gods whether we have magic in our veins or not," he said sternly. "We received a great gift that we have passed down through our children, but we are no better than the mundane humans. After all, we are all still humans and we are all prone to the same faults. Mundane humans have achieved great things in the absence of magic that would be wrong for us to not appreciate.” He looked around at the other children then. “We certainly do have this great gift and we should be thankful for it, but we tend to forget that it can be taken away just as easily as it is granted. Just because the Gods no longer walk amongst us as easily as they had in ages past as belief in them has waned, it does not mean that they are not there.” He took a breath and glanced to one of the mundane born students. “Do we not have kin who are born to mundane families, been granted the gift of magic?” His eyes shifted away. “And there are mundanes born to magic bearing families, known to us as squibs. In fact, there has been an increase of squibs and nearly squib children born in recent years. What does this tell us?” He posed the question as he looked over the concerned faces of his students.

The young professor nodded to one of the students who had hesitantly raised her hand. “Yes, Miss Whithall?”

The girl glanced sideways at the student sitting next to her and then straightened her back slightly. “The Gods… have decided to take away their gift?”

Giving a nod of approval, Salazar opened his hands. “Exactly, Miss Whithall. Five points to Slytherin. We can reason that we are taking our abilities for granted, so Freyja - along with other Gods of magic - has seen fit to start removing her gift. Many of the old traditions have been forgotten or are simply not practiced. What is worse is that we abuse the ones who have been newly blessed. The Gods are not easily angered as they have loved us for longer than we can even fathom, but we abuse the gift that has been given to us. Would that not anger you if you were in their shoes? Of course, the answer is not quite as simple as that.”

“So what about mudbloods, Professor Evans?” An older year spoke up before Salazar could continue. “Are they not polluting our blood and will only make the Gods take away more of our power?”

Salazar levelled a sharp stare towards the young man who had interrupted him. “Ten points from Slytherin,” he spoke sternly and then turned his gaze on each one of his students. “You will not utter that word again, all of you. Do you understand me?” Once he got mutters of reluctant acceptance, Salazar turned his attention back to the student who had spoken the word. “There is nothing dirty about their blood. In fact, as I have said, it brings fresh blood to our lines and strengthens us.” He had seen it in his own time, how mundane born children and their offspring tended to have stronger magic. “The problem with them entering our world is that they bring their practices with them, for good or worse. There is nothing wrong to have fresh ideas and new perspectives brought in, but not at the expense of our own culture.”

He cast a quick tempus and realized that it had been an hour. “Ah, it is 7:30. First years, you have astronomy practice in fifteen minutes, do you not?” He glanced over to the small group and nodded to them. “Off you go then. Put your journals away and grab what you need for your class. Prefect Piper, would you please escort them to their class so they will not be late?” When the prefect stood up, Salazar held up his hand. “Quickly, one last thing. I want you all to think about what I said at the closing. Next session we will have a debate on this topic. Gods are not prone to punishment in their anger as they are more likely to chide us as if we were children, yet we see the weakening of our gift. Think on what other reasons there might be for the loss of magic.” It was one thing to lecture them, but would drive in the lesson if they had the chance to discuss it. He dismissed them then.

((Page Break))

((Hogwarts - Past))

“Godric, you cannot keep doing this to yourself,” Rowena’s soft voice broke through Godric’s thoughts. “Have you slept at all?” The large man said nothing as he pushed away the bowl he was trying to scry with. He was pale and his face seemed thinner than before. His beard was unkempt and his hair lank with grease. “Goodness, Godric! I can smell you from here! When was the last you had a proper bath or even used a freshening charm?” Rowena covered her sensitive nose and placed a calming hand against her barely rounded stomach. “I am putting my foot down, Godric! You will clean yourself properly, have a full meal, and get some rest. In that order!” Perched on Godric’s chair, Fawkes gave a sad coo. Godric had not even listened to him!

Godric winced and shook his head. “I cannot, Rowena. Not until I have found Salazar. I need to apologize to him.” Even if he dreaded Salazar really was truly dead.

Rowena gave a sad sigh. “Godric… Salazar is…”

The man quickly cut her off. “No! Do not say it! He is not! He is alive! He is just somewhere I cannot reach.” His shaking hands curled into fists. “Salazar… he is my soulmate, Rowena. He is the better half of my soul. He is my brother. And I hurt him! He has disappeared far away from me because of my actions.”

“You were not alone, Godric,” Rowena spoke mournfully. She was cut off again.

Godric shook his head forcefully. “No! I was the one who spoke the damning words!” The redhead buried his face in his hands. “Salazar had a passion for the Dark Arts. We all knew that, all accepted it. Even I dabbled some in the Arts. My worry was that the children were not ready for the powerful Arts, but it was just the same as the more potent of the Natural Arts. The children are not ready for either or, but Salazar proved he was a firm teacher, that he could teach the Arts safely. And he taught the Defense of them! There was nothing wrong with his methods or his teaching!” Rowena remained silent as Godric ranted. “So why? Why would I suddenly decide to banish him? Hogwarts is his home! It is not me to punish so cruelly.”

Godric’s head suddenly snapped up. “Something is very wrong, Rowena.” The woman only raised an eyebrow in question. “With Cayden… There has been unrest about Dark magic as the fool boy uses it to kill mundanes.” He gritted his teeth at the thought of Salazar’s blood adopted brother, though conceded that he had not been heard from since the time Salazar disappeared. But that was beside the point. “There have been rumors swirling about, but we long ago made peace with Salazar’s passion! So why now? Why would we suddenly whisper uneasily behind our friend’s back? Why would we abruptly decide that banishment would be the only option? None of it makes any sense!”

With a heavy sigh, Rowena stroked her slightly rounded stomach and lowered her eyes. “Godric… They found Cayden’s body earlier today.” The woman made her way over to the man’s side, reaching out to slowly place her hand against the man’s shoulder. But before she could touch him, she hesitated and slowly pulled back her hand before she let it fall back down to her side. “Though it was more than that. We knew that Cayden had bought some land and had started to build his base there. The meadow was no longer full of life, Godric. There were obvious signs of a magical battle, with magical residue still heavy in the air.” She paused before sighing. “There was a magical explosion of some sort, the energies too tangled to be of much use. But, in that explosion, it dug out the earth enough for Cayden’s body to be laid as if in a tomb.”

Rowena shivered then and closed her eyes, though Godric did not watch her. “I spoke to the one who found him.” She still remembered the young boy that Salazar had taken under his wing, had loved. “He said that Cayden was hel-blár. Death-blue. And there was a great stench as if it had been a bloody rotting battlefield rather than a magical one. Within the daylight, he sat within his grave as if undisturbed but quite plainly dead.” Why did she tell Godric this? Perhaps in want for a reaction. But the redhead remained still.

“A draugr, Godric. A corporeal ghost who would have wrought destruction. Already the taint had started to creep from the makeshift grave that housed the creature.” Salazar would have hated to see what had become of his beloved brother. She paused before she could continue, but eventually Rowena spoke in a whisper. “The necessary actions were enacted, the draugr beheaded by iron and burned. His ashes were thrown to the sea.” The witch swallowed thickly before she was able to compose herself. “That is not all, Godric. Salazar’s magical signature was unmistakably there. He fought Cayden. And he managed to kill him.” She closed her eyes then. The next part of what she had to tell Godric was somehow the hardest. “But Salazar… Salazar’s body was not there.”

There was a long silence as Godric seemed to process Rowena’s words. The man suddenly stood and spun on his heel to storm towards the door. “Godric! Where are you going?” Rowena called after him, flustered by the sudden activity, as she picked up her skirts and hurried after the furious man. She could hear students as they whispered around them as she followed Godric out into the main courtyard.

Godric spun on one of the students and growled when he heard a whisper of Salazar’s name, Rowena too far away to interfere. “You shall not dare say his name!” The wizard snarled angrily before he stormed off once more. He could not bear the thought of anyone else speaking about his lost friend. It had been hard enough to speak about him and to hear Rowena speak about him. The children did not understand! They had no right to whisper about Salazar! Whispers influenced what he had said. He could feel his heart clench in guilt. Godric did not even stop to look at how it might look. The students had not been told anything about Salazar’s disappearance besides the rather public banishing, but all of them knew that their professor had completely vanished and did not seem to be coming back. Many still assumed that it had been some sort of gigantic fight between the founders that had led to his very public exiling, and Godric only fueled the suspicions by his refusal to speak about Salazar around the children. Rumors ran wild. Salazar's Slytherins hated Godric for turning away their Head of House.

“I am leaving,” Godric said bluntly once he was in his room. Rowena had continued to follow him and so stood in the doorway as she watched as her friend throw clothes and necessities into a bottomless bag. “I am going to find him. I know Fawkes could not find him, but I am not going to believe it until I have seen it for my own eyes. If he is… If he is dead, then I will bring his body back to Hogwarts so we can give him a proper burial,” the man said, his movements hurried and just a bit uncoordinated.

Rowena was worried about her friend and the state of his mind. Salazar’s disappearance, and the events that had led up to it, had hurt them all but Godric was taking it especially bad. She tried to protest, but Godric only kissed Rowena’s cheek. “Say goodbye to your husband for me, will you? And tell your child that I look forward to meeting her one day once I have found Salazar.” He glanced towards Rowena’s stomach and then away again. “And to Helga… tell her I am sorry.” Godric closed his bag and hurried away before Rowena could protest. As she raised a hand to press against her chest, Rowena had to sit down swiftly as dizziness overtook her. When it passed, she still could not get herself to stand up because she did not have the will. She hoped that Godric stayed safe. And part of her hoped that he would bring Salazar back with him.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

He cast a quick tempus and realized that it had been an hour. “Ah, it is 7:30. First years, you have astronomy practice in fifteen minutes, do you not?” He glanced over to the small group and nodded to them. “Off you go then. Put your journals away and grab what you need for your class. Prefect Piper, would you please escort them to their class so they will not be late?” When the prefect stood up, Salazar held up his hand. “Quickly, one last thing. I want you all to think about what I said at the closing. Next session we will have a debate on this topic.” It was one thing to lecture them, but would drive in the lesson if they had the chance to discuss it. He dismissed them then.

Chapter Six

Salazar rolled over in his bed with a groan. He grabbed at his wand to cast a tempus before he dropped his head into his pillow with a louder groan. It was not even dawn yet, though it was not far off yet. He wanted to return to sleep, but knew that it would be a futile effort. His dreams had been surprisingly clear for once in a long time, but the memories that he lived were bittersweet at most. They left a bitter taste in his mouth and drove him from bed. Clad only in a tunic and trousers, wand strapped to his forearm, Salazar followed his bare feet through the school corridors until he reached the library.

As he entered amongst the silent collection of books, he wondered what had brought him here in particular. Aimless, Salazar quietly padded down through the rows of books before he finally reached out to pull a book off of the shelf. “Tales of War: The Rise of a Dark Lord,” he read quietly before he turned on his heel. It was as good of a subject as any. Against whatever he might have wished, Salazar had landed in a time that was embroiled in a war. Whether he wanted to take part in it or not, he needed to learn what he could of the circumstances that revolved around the conflict. It had been a subject that he had procrastinated both willfully and because of his circumstances. Sleep would no longer come this early in the morning, so he instead set himself to collect whatever he could find in the archives of newspapers. There were other books too that caught his eye.

With a stack of material in his arms, Salazar selected a table near the back of the library. He settled the collection down on the table and then lit a lantern to provide him with light. Through the window he could see the lightening of the sky as he selected first to read “The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord.” He had started to read with good intentions, but soon found that he had to instead skim through the drivel printed within the pages. The author did not actually seem to know where this Voldemort had come from, only that he claimed to be the “Heir of Slytherin”. It seemed more a collection of lies and fear mongering than any real fact. Embellished tales of the monster in the dark, a demon sprung forth fully formed.

The only bit of worth in the whole book was a quick reference near the beginning of the book that he had nearly missed. It spoke of a Taboo placed upon the Dark Lord’s name. “Oh, clever,” Salazar said grudgingly. If the people were afraid to speak the man’s name in fear they would be found and attacked, they would associate that fear with the man himself. That fear would be passed down to their children, who would have no idea just why they feared what they did. Those who were brave enough to speak the man’s name were the ones brave enough to stand against him. It would allow the Dark Lord to find his enemies. And, though Voldemort had been defeated once, Salazar had no doubt that the Taboo was once more active. He would have to refrain from using the man’s chosen name for now. He refused to use ‘You-know-who’ or ‘He-who-must-not-be-named’ however, so ‘the Dark Lord’ or ‘Riddle’ would have to make do. Dumbledore had said his name was Tom Riddle, had he not? The Headmaster definitely knew more than the author of this particular book. “Tales of War” was not any better, many of the same stories but in different words. All full of lies, conjecture, or straight out purposeful misinformation.

With an aggrieved sigh, Salazar set the book aside and instead carefully selected a book from his stack that was entitled “The Fall of the Dark: A Biography of our Savior.” What a pretentious title. He held the book delicately as if it might suddenly come to life and bite him, but carefully cracked open the cover. He flipped to the first chapter and started to read, but Salazar quickly decided that the book itself was even worse than its title. It was filled with conjecture and bold faced propaganda. It seemed more of a tale of fiction than an attempt at historical fact. He hardly believed that a one year old child could really defeat a dark lord. Not even a young prodigy of magic would be able to do such a feat against a decades old wizard. It was more than likely that it was the boy’s parents that were the true heroes. If he had an opinion on it, he would say an old ritual of some sort. If powerful enough, or possibly even with the intervention of a deity, it could even stop the Killing Curse. Society at large had instead placed the young boy upon a pedestal. Salazar could not help but pity the child and wish he could have had him in his House. He could have helped this Harry Potter however he needed it. The boy would have been a man now, just five years younger than he. But it seemed no one knew where the poor lad had gone. Salazar could not blame him.

With a sigh, Salazar absently flipped through to the last page where a picture caught his eye. Wizarding photographs were strange, and yet such a fascinating invention from more recent times. The caption declared it was of Harry Potter and was taken during his fourth year, the year of the Triwizard Tournament. It would have been taken not long before he disappeared.

Salazar studied the picture of the uncomfortable looking boy, whose eyes would not quite meet the camera. The boy held a resemblance to the professor, in a way of a man who looked upon his reflection in a rippling pond as Salazar had done in his earlier years. The messy hair was Salazar’s same dark colour, the vibrant green eyes so similar though brighter than his own nearly black green. Perhaps the boy had been a descendant of his? He had not known of any children he might have sired, but he supposed that it could be possible. He'd had no lover or partner, but he hadn't been chaste either. He and Harry Potter could have passed as brothers. But whatever the case, it did not sit right. A twisting and heavy pit deep in his belly that was hard to ignore.

What struck him, however, was the unusual scar. Salazar had a scar as well, though his stretched over the entire half of his face. He had been lucky that it had not harmed his eye as it passed through his brow and down across his cheek to end just beneath his jaw. They shared also the fact that their scars were both curse scars, though the boy had apparently received his in the attack that had killed his parents and temporarily defeated Riddle. It was an intriguing idea that only lent itself to his theory that a ritual of protection had been involved. After all, the Killing Curse never left a mark behind. Potter’s curse scar had to have been from something else even if he had received it in the attack.

The sun had risen beyond the horizon now, though. It was something that Salazar noticed with a glance out the window. With a tired sigh, he closed the book and pulled his braid over his shoulder. What a waste of the early morning hours. There had been a few useful anecdotes, but was more of a lesson of the willful misdirection of the public view. His search for unbiased fact would be more labour intensive than he had originally thought. But that would be a problem for another day. He had a full day of classes to look forward to, then the thursday night duelling class he was required to help supervise. So, with a swish of his wand, Salazar sent the books back to their places on the library shelves.

Once he had left the library, Salazar quietly stole through the still empty corridors of the castle as he made his way to his chambers. It was down one such quiet hallway that Salazar suddenly came to an abrupt halt as one of the school ghosts drifted through a nearby doorway. It was not one of the phantoms that he had crossed paths with before, but her appearance was striking and achingly unforgettable. “Rowena?” He called out quietly, voice strangled and just loud enough for the spectre to pause in her trek and turn to him. The stern gaze that was levelled on Salazar painfully reminded him of the woman he had founded Hogwarts with, but it was not Rowena. “No, not Rowena. You are her daughter,” he realised softly, actually relieved that it was Rowena’s daughter and not Rowena herself.

Surprise flitted across the ghost’s face at hearing a language not spoken to her in a very long time and she studied the man who had called out to her. “You are correct,” she agreed slowly as she drifted closer to Salazar. “But that begs the question of how you might know that I am Ravenclaw’s daughter, how you know what my mother looks like.” Even as a pale wraith, the woman stood with a quiet nobility that only a daughter of Rowena could achieve. He had not even known that Rowena was pregnant, though perhaps it had been years after his departure.

Salazar shook off the thoughts and gave the woman a humourless smile. “I am afraid that I find myself out of my own time,” he told her. “I thought I knew your mother once. At one time she was a dear friend.”

A look of comprehension passed over the ghost’s unearthly face. “Uncle Sal…” She seemed to breath out the words, but Salazar quickly held up a hand to quiet her.

“I must ask that you not use that name here. I am Herrick Evans. I do not know what your mother has said of me, but I am sure you are aware of how my reputation has suffered in this time. I am not here to bring harm to Hogwarts or any of her students,” the wizard quietly implored her before his features softened into something more fond. This was a woman he should have seen raised from a little girl, but that opportunity had been stolen from him. “Tell me, my dear. What is your name?” How had a daughter of Rowena become trapped as a ghost within the castle’s walls? That was a question though that he was far too polite to ask. For now.

“Helena,” she responded softly and Salazar gave her a smile.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Helena,” he answered her as he returned to the use of English. As he stood there, he could feel the castle begin to wake. So he gave a short bow to Helena. “I apologize for my abruptness, but I really need to be on my way.” He paused then and gave her another smile. “I shall like to see you again,” he said by way of his farewell. Helena gave a little curtsy and then drifted off through the nearby wall.

Salazar allowed himself a sad smile before he finished his walk down to his chambers. He changed into full robes and tied his hair up into a messy bun. He’d have to trim his beard sometime soon, but it had not gotten too out of control just yet. He left it for now took care of his other morning routines before he made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He made sure to slip in from the side as usual so he would not have to walk through the hordes of students. As he took his spot at the table, Salazar served himself from the offered dishes. He decided on a porridge with some fresh fruit. It was the closest to what he was used to. Reminded him of home.

“Professor Evans?” A female voice called to him and Salazar turned his head to the young woman who had just seated herself next to him. “If you have a moment, I would like to ask you a question,” she inquired almost timidly, though there was an eager light in her eyes that made Salazar think of someone who always spoke their mind. Granger, he thought. She was the assistant professor for Snape’s Defense Against the Dark Arts, his main assistant for the dueling class. He had seen her at meals, though had not had much interaction with her besides the unfortunate incident in the library. Now, though, perhaps he could at least be civil. So Salazar gave her an amiable smile and inclined his head.

It seemed to throw Granger and she was flustered for a moment before she could regain her composure. “Oh, yes wonderful! You see, I was thinking about the song that the Sorting Hat sung during the Welcoming Feast,” she started out and quickly moved on with barely a breath between sentences. “The language the Hat used at the end sounded similar to the one I remember you spoke when you arrived here. Do you mind translating it for me? Ah, what was it again?” She was certainly a whirlwind.

Salazar snorted softly as he picked up his mug. “Agus èiridh an nathair a rìs,” he recited before he took a sip of his mulled cider. It had been a special request to the house elves as he was not much of a fan of the pumpkin juice that many mages seemed to favour. He might have preferred mead, but the honeyed drink was alcoholic and not well looked upon anymore during everyday meals around children. So non-alcoholic cider it was.

As he set his mug down, Salazar hummed thoughtfully. “It translates roughly to ‘and the serpent rises again.’ So the full line would be, in English, ‘the lion will roar and the serpent rises again.’” The Hat was just as bad at making up verses as he remembered. He chuckled softly and picked up his spoon. “If you want my opinion, the Hat sits in the Headmaster’s office all year until he has to sort the new students one day out of that year. His magic is still part of Hogwarts and he will have felt too when Hogwarts selected a new Head for Slytherin House.” He glanced at Granger out of the corner of his eye as he scooped up some of his porridge. “I would not put much thought into it. Maybe the Hat thinks that the feud between my House and the Gryffindors can change now that I am here. Or hopes, rather, that something will change.”

Granger looked thoughtful, and maybe a bit disappointed, at his response. She finally gave a sigh and picked up her goblet to take a sip. “Yes, nothing so exciting as I had hoped, I guess,” she muttered into her cup before she put it back onto the table in front of her. “I’m surprised, though, Professor Evans. You seem to be in a good mood this morning. I normally see you avoid conversations unless you’re drawn into them reluctantly.” Her voice was amused, though there was a probing edge she couldn't hide.

Salazar tried not to sigh as he ate a bite of his breakfast so he did not have to respond right away. Truthfully, he had been afraid to get close to any of the other professors. He wanted to remain civil with them, but distant. However, he was well aware that it would perhaps not be a good idea to make enemies either, which could happen if he remained too distant. Perhaps he really should now make better acquaintances with some of the professors, especially those of them who actually made the effort to be more than civil as well. So, he gave a soft sigh and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You will have to excuse my behaviour as of late. It is true that I have not been in the most joyful of moods, and I apologize if it has been off-putting. The stress of preparing for classes in such a short amount of time clearly made a mess of me,” he said with a touch of self-deprecation. “So then, shall we try again? It is a pleasure to meet you, Hermione Granger.” He gave her a disarming smile, something he had perfected once upon a time to use against the parents of his students from the time long ago.

Surprised by the abrupt change in the otherwise aloof potions’ professor, Hermione gave a dazed smile in return and nodded her head. “Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Herrick Evans,” she imitated him.

After a nod to her, Salazar finished off his breakfast and then stood up. “It was a pleasure. I need to head down to my classroom. I will see you at lunch, or at dinner. Have a good day,” he said as he placed his napkin on the table. He left for his classroom then. Later, he ended up not seeing Granger at lunch and only greeted her in passing at dinner. She seemed focused on the book in front of her so he left her alone.

After dinner, Salazar returned to his rooms so he could change into something more comfortable for dueling. So he left the robes behind and headed back to the Great Hall in a long sleeved tunic. He was there as an assistant, not to participate in any sort of intense dueling. If he had, he might have worn armour. Instead the tunic he wore had runes stitched into the embroidery on the hems. It would help protect against wayward spells. His hair was plaited in a tight single plait to keep it out of the way. 

By the time he made it back down to the Great Hall, dinner was over and the house elves were busy as they rearranged the large chamber. They had removed the House tables and had moved the staff table to use as a dueling stage. It seemed that there might be a demonstration. Snape had not shared his plans for the class. Salazar retreated to the great fireplace to wait until everyone arrived and remain out of the way of the house elves.

From his place in front of the hearth, he was able to watch as the students arrived in packs. For the most part the students remained segregated by House, though there was some socializing between some of the Houses. Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw socialized between themselves with only a few Ravenclaws migrating over to civilly speak with a handful of Slytherins. It was nice to see that his House had not been fully ostracised. It gave him hope. With a smile, he broke away from his spot and calmly approached his students. He engaged in conversation with a few of the seventh years about their expectations for the class. Especially with Snape for a professor.

Right on time, Snape made a grand entrance with his robes billowing about him as he walked up onto the stage. It brought about a strange sense of deja vu, but Salazar ignored it in favour of what the man had opened his mouth to say. “The Headmaster,” the dour man started with a sneer, “has seen fit to prepare each one of you for what lies beyond Hogwarts. This,” he spoke the word sharply, “is a required class, but do not think that I will let you slack off in your studies. You will take this class seriously or I shall personally see to it that you fail,” he said with a widening sneer towards the students. Salazar frowned in distaste.Threats were not a proper way to teach a class. Discipline and threats were two very different things after all.

“Now each one of you fall into line!” Snape barked and the students scrambled to follow his orders. Salazar drew back quietly so that he was not in the way as the students formed rows in the Great Hall. “Wands out and assume a dueling position,” was the next order from the professor. Salazar could not help but feel irritated that the man would assume that the children should know what a dueling stance should be. It was more than just pointing out your wand arm, he thought with a sigh as he saw many of the children do just that.

With another quiet sigh, Salazar began to make his way through the Slytherin students to correct their positions. He praised those who had good posture while he made adjustments here and there. For the students who had never dueled properly before, he took more time to guide them into beginner stances that would help them until they made it to new levels. He could see Hermione as she made her way through the Gryffindor students and then on to the Hufflepuff ones. Snape made his way through the ranks of Ravenclaw students, but he was not very hands on. Salazar ignored the man as he started to go through Hufflepuff students as they needed the most help. He whispered quiet words of encouragement and offered small smiles. Hufflepuffs were loyal and sweet, but it was important to remember not to anger a badger. It was true for Hufflepuff's Badgers as well. He wondered if people tended to forget that.

Salazar smirked to himself as Snape called for everyone’s attention. He gave the young Hufflepuff he had been helping a wink before he went to go stand back with his Slytherins. “That is only the first step,” the dour man scowled at the students as he took his place back on the dueling stage. Granger caught Salazar’s gaze then and gave a little wave. Salazar nodded to her, but turned his attention to Snape. “Before any of you even think of advancing to actual duels, you will all need to learn the proper etiquette for a duel.” He ordered the students to stay where they were before he launched into the proper formalities for a sanctioned duel. It was good to know, but Salazar thought it was not perhaps what was currently needed. A real battle would not care about duel propriety. But he held his tongue.

By the end of the class Salazar had a good feeling that, if the class continued in the same thread, there would be very few students left by the end of the year. Perhaps he would offer a few tricks to his Slytherins and mention them to Granger to pass along to other students. He went to bed that night with this on his mind.

((Page Break))

Early the next morning, Salazar was awake as per usual. Though he could not remember anything in particular from his dreams, he did remember the strong feelings that interacted almost like foreign entities. Anger and unbridled fury drowned out anything else, which left him nearly as exhausted as he had been when he went to bed the night before. He was getting very tired, no pun intended, of not being able to rest while he slept. He wondered if it had anything to do with his curse scar as he woke to it inflamed again. A salve took care of it to bring it back to its usual state of appearance like that of a new scar. With that taken care of, Salazar took care of his morning routines before he made his way down to the Great Hall. He knew that there would not be many students down for breakfast yet, but Granger would likely be there.  The young redhead that had been at her side when he had first met them would not be there luckily, though he had often seen him share meals with Granger before term started. He had not had a good first impression from the younger male when he had met him, but the Weasley male did not sit with the staff. He was part of the castle’s protection and not a professor, so he ate elsewhere, possibly the kitchens with the other castle guards. The two seemed to be close, but Granger was much more tolerable.

As he stepped into the Great Hall, Salazar saw that Granger was already there. He had to smirk to himself when he saw that she had a book in front of her as she ate with a rather mechanical motion. Salazar snorted softly as he seated himself next to her. “Is it not rather rude to read while at the table?” He asked her as he gathered some food for himself. She gave him a startled look and Salazar gave a vague smile in response. Really, it was much too easy. “But I am curious. What book interests you so much that you would even bring it to breakfast?”

Granger floundered for a moment before she cleared her throat and showed Salazar the title of the book. “Ah, it’s called Theoretical Magicke. It’s not a terribly original name, but the information contained is rather interesting,” she said as she shut the book. “I’m currently reading about curse scars.”

Salazar could not stop a snort. “Curse scars?” Oh, of all things.

Granger gave him an odd look. “Yes, curse scars. I was doing some research into Harry’s disappearance.” She looked away then as she fiddled with the cover of her book. “I don’t know. I think I’m just grasping at straws,” she said with a soft sigh. “And it really is an interesting subject. Harry had a curse scar and I was just trying to figure out if it had anything to do with his disappearance.”

Salazar frowned a little as he picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on the end of it. “Harry? Harry Potter? You were friends with him?” He glanced over to Granger and she only nodded. “I heard that he received his scar from his survival against the Killing Curse. The Killing Curse is not supposed to leave a mark.” It was an interesting riddle. The only clue was the lightning bolt shape, something that bothered him like a thought just out of reach.

“He did. It doesn’t leave a mark, but he’s the first to have survived the curse, right?” Granger said softly as she looked down at the book thoughtfully. “The book mentions magical backlash. Perhaps his scar is a result of that?”

Salazar narrowed his eyes in thought. Something about that struck a chord. “Do you have some parchment and a quill?” She seemed the sort to always have some with her. She nodded and pulled the things out for him from a bag draped over the back of her chair. “Thank you,” he said quickly as he carefully pulled the parchment closer to him. “I saw a photograph of him once. The mark is shaped like this, correct?” He quickly sketched out the shape and looked at it with a critical eye. Next to him, Granger gave a little nod. If he forgot everything about being told it looks like a thunderbolt, what else did it look like? Only one magical symbol was that shape.

Salazar quickly turned the parchment around to show Granger. “Here, look. This is the shape, as described, yes? Everyone calls it a lightning bolt.” The woman nodded in confusion as she looked over the simple drawing. Salazar smirked a bit and raised his eyes towards Granger. “Right. Now forget that you think of this as a lightning bolt. Let us pretend that I approached you in the halls and passed this to you for help with a project. What would be the first thing you would think of it as being?” He prodded, wanting her to come to the same conclusion on her own. “Do not think about it. What is the first thing that comes to mind that would be related to magic?” Salazar watched then as Granger’s confusion morphed into startled realization.

The woman gasped and her head shot up, a move that drew some attention in the otherwise quiet Hall. She did not seem to notice and Salazar ignored it. “Sowilo!” Granger exclaimed though she said it in almost a whisper at the same time. “The rune of guidance, hope, success.” She breathed out as her face shone. “Oh, why did I never notice it before? It makes so much sense! Harry, Ron, and I would always have all sorts of ridiculous adventures during the four years before Harry disappeared. You cannot believe the things we survived! Harry defeated a basilisk once down in the Chamber of Secrets when he was twelve.” Salazar could not stop himself from choking, but luckily Granger just ignored his surprise as she only carried on. “He managed things no other kid should be able to do. He summoned a patronus at thirteen against at least a hundred dementors!”

“You look up to him,” Salazar interrupted, still in some disbelief that a mere twelve year old had been able to kill a basilisk. He wanted the story behind that one. He could only imagine that if the boy had really pulled off such a thing, then he really must be a parselspeaker as Salazar predicted. Though why the basilisk would have needed to be killed as it should have listened to a parselspeaker was another matter. He shook his head and resolved to think about it later. He obviously did not know the entire story. And just what was the Chamber of Secrets? It gave him a bad feeling.

Salazar focused back on Granger then as she pulled up short and blushed, but she nodded firmly. “I miss him a lot,” she agreed before she shook her head, flyaway hair dancing around her face. “But the point I was trying to get at is runes are extremely powerful. Especially when branded into the skin or engraved in a permanent manner into whatever medium has been selected to hold them. Tattoos are the most popular means of skin branding, of course,” she rambled as Salazar only gave a nod as he thought of his own runic markings. Granger gave an excited smile. “It must be the same way with Harry’s scar. Even though he received it as the result of a curse counter, it’s still a rune and holds power! It also would explain why the Killing Curse left a mark as it was magical backlash, not something left by the curse itself.”

Salazar gave an indulgent smile as he inclined his head. “It also means that the true hero is one of his parents, possibly both of them. They found a ritual to protect their son and that is what saved your friend. Not many things will protect against the Killing Curse. It must have been a very old ritual.” It might have even been a ritual that evoked the Gods as it had to have been a powerful ritual. Nothing else would have stopped the Killing Curse.

“You’re right,” Granger whispered in agreement. “Unfortunately, it cannot help explain his disappearance as I had hoped.” She looked up at Salazar with a frown. “If he had such extraordinary good luck as a result of influence from the rune, then how did he manage to disappear? There was an attack on his home. The wards on them exploded. There was a great deal of magical residue in the air, but surely he would have been able to escape if the same pattern was followed. So where is he and why would he be gone for five years without a word?”

Salazar frowned in response, his expression pensive. “Either some powerful magic was at work… or he left willingly,” he said slowly.

“No. Definitely not,” Granger interjected, frustration laced through her voice. “I refuse to believe that Harry would have left willingly. He hated his fame as boy-who-lived, but he would have never abandoned his friends.”

He shook his head and rested his chin against his knuckles as he braced his elbow on the arm of his chair. “I can only take your word for it. You said there was an attack on his home. Are there any more details other than knowledge the wards exploded?” Granger only gave a frustrated huff and shook her head so her curls flew wildly about her face again. “Then anything we can think of will only be conjecture. If he did have sowilo upon his brow, he was blessed with guidance and success. It does not mean, however, that the protection was infallible. It is, I suppose, possible that the amount of magic in the air could have interacted with the rune upon his brow to bring him somewhere that he needed to be for the rune to fulfill its purpose. That is only a theory, however.” He glanced down at his abandoned breakfast. “I would suppose it might depend on what the alignment of magic the original ritual fell towards.” Salazar gave a little shrug and then stood. “I enjoyed the conversation, Professor Granger, but I must be going. Perhaps we can pick it up later.” He offered her a little smile and left the table, but he heard Granger scramble after him.

“Hold up, Evans! What do you mean by that?” She demanded as she caught up to him and Salazar had to hold back a sigh. He had a class of second years to prepare for and did she not have a class too? “What do you mean by alignment?”

Unable to hold back his sigh that time, Salazar stopped so he could turn to look at Granger. “I have a class to prepare for and I have classes all day. There will be no classes for the next two so why don’t you come down to my office after dinner tonight? I will be working on grading papers, but we can talk then if it is suitable to you.” This would give him time to figure out what exactly to say to Granger. He should have known she would not look past an offhand comment.

Granger interrupted Salazar’s thoughts with a huff. “Oh, alright. I do need to prepare for my class anyways. Professor Snape had me grading the most recent homework assignments and I was nearly finished. But I expect you to answer me when I see you tonight!”

Salazar gave a sharp now and turned away to hide his amusement. As he turned the corner, he spotted Weasley as the redhead jogged up to Granger. Even as he strode away from them, he did not miss Weasley’s voice as he spoke to Granger. “What were you doing talking to that slimy git, Hermione?” The young man demanded, but Salazar did not stay long enough to hear Granger’s response. He pushed it from his mind, instead focused on the class he had to prepare for. First it would be second year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. He had to finish grading the test that he had given them the day before during their class period then.

Once in his classroom, he sat down and opened up one of the drawers. For the time left before the students arrived, Salazar finished grading the last of the tests. Once the students were all there, Salazar stood up and took roll call. He then passed back the tests. “I must say that I am a bit disappointed in how little you were all taught last year,” he said lightly. Salazar fully blamed Snape. “I firmly believe that weight can be placed upon your previous professor, but I do expect you all to pay attention and work hard to get up to the level that I want you at,” he told them sternly as he returned to the front of the room. “Put away all of your kits, if you would. Instead, pull out your books and something to write with. We will not be doing any practical work for at least a few class periods.”

He waited until they had done as ordered before he walked over to the board. He picked up a piece of chalk and wrote down a page number. “Flip to page twenty-three and read paragraph two through four. It should be familiar to you, as it was part of the homework I assigned. Before we get into the questions I had you prepare for discussion, I want to review the contents in those paragraphs.” Across the top of the board then, he wrote down a few words. When he finished, he turned to the class and waited until they had finished their reading. “Now then. Who can tell me the difference between chopping and slicing ingredients? How does it affect the outcome of a potion?”

A hand slowly raised and Salazar nodded his head. “Yes, Miss Kelley?”

The young Ravenclaw girl bit her lip and glanced down at the open book in front of her. “Chopping and slicing ingredients affects the rate at which they, uh, dissolve into the potion.” Salazar gave an encouraging nod and urged her to keep going. “How fast an ingredient dissolves into a potion is important to the outcome.”

With a smile, Salazar went over to the board and wrote out the answer. “Very good, Miss Kelley. Ten points to Ravenclaw. However, that is only part. Can anyone else finish the answer?” He paused, but no one else raised their hands. He hummed softly and turned back to the board. “The type of ingredient also influences whether it will be chopped or sliced. Or even if the ingredient should be powdered or crushed,” he said as he wrote out the answer. Salazar then rounded his desk and pulled out his wand. He used a levitation spell to bring a worktable closer. “I want you all to gather around,” he told them. “I am going to give a demonstration on basic preparation techniques.” As they gathered around him, Salazar walked them through the techniques just as he said he would. As he worked, he let them ask questions and he tried to get them to guess how certain ingredients were prepared. When the class finally ended, Salazar was glad to see that the children chattered energetically between each other as they left the classroom.

Thankfully then the rest of his classes went by much like his first. The older classes were more advanced, but Salazar wanted to make sure that his students all had a strong foundation in potionmaking. Most of the upper years he had them doing practical work, but only on the preparation of ingredients. As they worked, he knew that some would do well at the class, others would be passable. As long as they all understood how each step was important, and understood how ingredients reacted to each other, then they would all at least be able to follow a recipe. The safety of his students was important above everything else.

Finally emerging from his classroom after the last class of the day was finished, Salazar groaned softly. It would be very nice to finally stretch out his long legs. He had even spent lunch in his classroom again to deal with all of the prepared potion ingredients, at least the ones that were salvageable. He did intend on going to dinner in the Great Hall though where he could make light conversation with the other professors. But when he got there, McGonagall gave him a little sniff and refused to talk to him. Salazar ignored the slight squeeze of his heart. He ignored her in response, though part of him marvelled at the way the woman could hold a grudge. Granger was there, but she kept her distance until Salazar finished his meal. 

When he left to head to his chambers, Granger stood up as well and quickly followed after him. Salazar had to feel amused at the young woman’s excitement, but said nothing to her as he led the way to his room. Once they arrived, he opened up the door and invited Granger into his office. “Make yourself comfortable,” he told her before he called a house elf to bring them some after dinner tea. Well, it seemed he would not be starting on his grading right away. Granger appeared to be rather eager and it gave him a feeling of fondness he could not explain. He barely knew the woman.

With a relieved sigh, Salazar sat down on a chair and picked up a cup of tea once the tray appeared on the table. “You wanted to continue our conversation from earlier, correct?” He glanced over to her. “What do you know about the origin of magic?” It might be better to start from the beginning before he got into alignment.

Granger looked at him with surprise over her own cup of tea. “The origin? I… well, I have never really put any thought into it. I am muggleborn, you see.” Her face was rather proud, though she also appeared a bit unsure. “I suppose I just took it for granted, never really thought about it. I have magic and that is the way it is.”

Salazar gave a nod of his head. “Mundane born mages such as you bring fresh strength into the bloodlines,” he told her. “A gift of both Gods and magic.” He gave a smile then. “You see, magic has universal rules. Long ago, the Gods of our world walked among humans and taught them how to use the power of the earth. This interaction with magic transformed our bodies to be able to handle it, gave us each our own little spark of magic. What we might call our core.” He took another sip of his tea, Granger quiet. “Every human has the potential for magic. It is everywhere around us, what some call Wild Magicke. Even mundanes can occasionally tap into it, though what they are able to manifest is extremely limited. What sets magicals apart from mundanes is the core we carry within ourselves.” He would further explain this to his Slytherins when they rejoined for their study discussions as this was a topic they had just breached and he had wanted them to think more on. He explained it more thoroughly to Granger.

“But how do muggleborns make wizarding bloodlines stronger?” Granger interrupted, her expression fierce concentration.

Salazar took a moment to consider the answer and put it into the right words. “I do not know if we will ever understand why mundane born children are suddenly born with magical cores, thought it could be counted as a blessing from the Gods, but I do know that cores are wild magic. Think of it as a vessel within yourself that you scoop water into. When you have children, you give a portion of that to your child to add into their own vessel. Over time, it dilutes and empties until you end up with children who carry a vessel but no magic to fill it. But mundane born children have a vessel full of wild magic. Of course, there are many complexities to it, but this is the simplest explanation.”

Granger’s eyes were wide with understanding. Salazar smiled and then continued. “Now, alignment.” This would be a harder subject to broach. He did not think it was something that was well taught any longer. “There are Dark Arts and Natural Arts, which is merely the classification for the types of spells used to use magic. Natural Arts is when the mage directs the use of wild magic from the earth through the pathways of their bodies to manifest a result. Take, for example, the Levitation Charm. When you use this charm, you channel the wild magic of air to make your intended object float. Of course, wild magic is chaotic in nature and does not always consent to being tamed. Especially given the more powerful spells. That is where a mage’s core comes into use. It acts as a tether and a guide for the wild magic. So to speak.”

Salazar took a moment to collect his thoughts, while Granger had started to look a little apprehensive. “Then what of the Dark Arts? What forces are those?” She asked quietly, hands tight around her own teacup.

“Dark Arts are sacrifice,” Salazar said quietly. “Often, for the little things, the sacrifice is small and merely a portion of the wizard’s core. Something that will replenish after a time. More powerful spells require greater sacrifices, ones that can kill a witch or wizard if they are underprepared. These spells often take payment from the victim instead.” It was why Dark rituals required sacrifices of lives or blood to pay the toll. Salazar took a deep breath. “Dark mages will often have larger cores to draw upon, whether naturally or artificially grown. Their pathways are structured differently, to draw heavier on their own cores. They can still draw upon the wild magic, but it can be harder to control when attempting more complex Natural Arts. If wizards who are not Dark aligned attempt the Dark Arts, the sacrifice can be too great. Possible to cast, but only minor spells. One of the greatest differences between the Dark Arts and the Natural Arts is that if your magical core depletes completely when you try powerful Natural Arts, the spell will simply fail. If your core depletes completely in a Dark Arts sacrifice, the spell will take your life in payment.”

Granger looked a touch horrified, but Salazar pressed onward. “Now, classifications of mages are a little different,” he began before he took another sip of his tea. “Dark wizards are those with an affinity towards the Dark Arts. They have the large cores required for heavier sacrifices and an immunity against the addictive nature of the heavier Arts. Dark witches and wizards can be born or made, but once your pathways have adapted towards the Dark Arts they cannot return to what they were before.” Salazar paused as he tried to let Granger absorb everything. “The vast majority of magicals are what most like to call Light and they have an affinity towards the Natural Arts. They will often have smaller cores, thought this is not always the case.” He drank down the last of his tea, though kept the cup in his hands. “There is a third classification as well. They are known as Grey mages. They do not have full immunity to the addictive Dark Arts, but do have a natural resistance. Their pathways are not so closed off as Dark wizards, which offers them a greater command over wild magic than their Dark counterparts. They are a balance between Dark and Light.”

“It's a lot to take in, but I never really thought about it in that way,” Granger said softly as she stared down at her cup. “I suppose it does make sense. And that’s what you meant by alignment. If it was a Dark ritual, it would have required a sacrifice.” She stopped and her shoulders dropped. “Which, it probably was. Professor Dumbledore said it was Lily’s love that saved Harry that night. She sacrificed her own life to save her son.”

Salazar nodded grimly. “Yes. And that sacrifice is likely why the protection is still so strong. When you sacrifice a life, you are also sacrificing the potential that the life had. Everything they might have done.”

Granger looked pale and perhaps a bit stricken. Salazar watched her quietly for a moment, but then gave a little smile. “Did you know that Merlin was a dark wizard? He was sorted into Slytherin when he was a student there, as well.” He tried to lighten the moment somehow, throw her off balance from her spiraling thoughts.

As she leaned forward with wide eyes, though still pale, Granger gasped. “Are you certain? The legend of Merlin goes all the way back to 500 CE! That was nearly some five hundred years before Hogwarts was founded!” She paused. “Though I do suppose that there are some records that say Merlin was born around 983.”

Salazar allowed himself a small laugh as he nodded, glad to have lightened her mood even a little. “Yes, I am certain.” He had taught the boy himself for a few short years. “The Merlin that was influential to the wizarding world was a young student at Hogwarts once upon a time. The discrepancies I believe arrive due to the fact that there seems that there was another wizard by the name of Myrddin. The two are separate people, but some legends have overlapped over the years.”

Granger shook her head, though she did look thoughtful. “You mentioned Gods,” Granger said quietly then, a weak attempt to continue the conversation.

Salazar placed down his cup of tea with a soft click and stood up. From its place in his desk, Salazar retrieved a book and held it out to Granger. “Be careful with it. It has preservation spells on it, but it is very old.” He sat back down again. “You are mundane born, so do you believe in Christianity?” He asked her quietly as she opened up the book curiously to look inside.

Granger gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “My mum would take us to Easter services every year, but I wouldn’t say we were particularly religious,” she responded with a quick glance back up at Salazar.

“I was raised in the old traditions,” he told her carefully. “It is not about blood supremacy, so hear me out before you make any judgement.” She closed up the book again and gave a nod, her lips pressed tightly together.

Salazar nodded his thanks and glanced at the book in her lap. “I believe in the old gods,” he told her quietly. “I can feel them.” He gave a little smile before he cleared his throat and allowed himself to have a more lecturing tone. “The path that I follow is a mixture of the old Celtic traditions and the old Norse traditions. There is definitely a heavier influence from the old Norse traditions and make up a bulk of my practice, though the old Celtic traditions definitely made their mark.” In his time, the northmen had settled a good portion of the land where Hogwarts was located. "In the early days, the scattered wizarding community had been understandably slow to accept the spreading Christian faith. By 990, when Hogwarts was founded, a rapid conversion of the northmen had begun. Especially amongst their leaders. But the northmen’s magical community had always been more organised than the English community and the northmen clung to their traditions. Though I do want to point out that the Northmen's religion was not a truly unified one. Not like Christianity where there are set beliefs and set traditions. Beliefs amongst individuals is a very personal thing and no two people will believe in the exact same thing even if they can celebrate together." He paused then to gather his thoughts again. "Now, amongst the English wizarding community the spread of Christianity had resulted in their faith being reduced to lingering folk traditions and superstitions. They welcomed the northmen much easier than their mundane counterparts. The wizarding community continued to practice their own unique traditions, though it started to decline sometime in the late eighteenth century. At Hogwarts in particular, during the early nineteenth century, the acting Headmaster at the time abolished the practice of rituals or other expressions of faith.”

“That’s terrible,” Granger said quietly, her face creased as she looked down at the book in her lap. “I can’t imagine… why abolish something so seemingly integral to the wizarding community?”

Salazar sighed softly as he poured himself more tea. “My opinion? In the early years of the Christian expansion, the mundane community still had their folk traditions that had roots in the old heathen faiths. The transition for mundane born magicals into the rich practices of wizard faiths was much easier. But as time went on, the Christian superstition made it hard to reconcile what they had been told all their lives before they entered into the magical community. So, I believe the movement away from the old practices was made in an effort to make mundane born witches and wizards more comfortable.”

“So fascinating,” Granger breathed out before she leaned forward again. “You say that, yet there is so much prejudice against muggleborn students nowadays. So many of them leave the wizarding world after graduating. So, if all these things had been done before, why is there so much hate towards them?” She nearly demanded to Salazar’s amusement, though he sobered as he thought about his answer.

Salazar leaned back in his own chair, teacup cradled in his hands. “I have a few theories about it,” he said softly. “Honestly, it could be a combination of any number of things. But one theory I have is that when the wizarding community made moves towards being more inclusive to mundane born magicals, it alienated the pureblood families. As time went on, more of the ancient culture was lost as the community evolved. This feeling of resentment festered while many stopped practicing their old traditions because there were less of those who remembered them. Some purebloods looked for a scapegoat, leaders used that to their advantage.”

“So, like a wizarding Hitler,” Granger responded, though Salazar did not recognize the reference. “I will read this book that you are lending me, but what sort of things have we… lost?”

He hummed softly in thought as he took a sip of his tea. “I do not believe that things have been completely lost. The knowledge is still there for those who wish to seek it out and there are some families that still practice what has been passed down to them. But, I’m curious. What feast is approaching soon at the end of next month?” He asked her before he took another sip of his tea while he waited for her response.

“Halloween,” Granger responded. “All I really remember is the costumes and the treats. I might have heard a reference to a day of the dead? I always had other things to think of on Halloween in the recent years.”

Salazar gave a little nod. Some things had carried over, it seemed. He set his teacup back down then and leaned back in his chair. “I would like to know then how Hogwarts celebrates it?” When she mentioned a feast, Salazar hummed thoughtfully. “Halloween's more proper names are Samhainn or Vetrnaetr. It was both a harvest festival and a feast of the dead that was celebrated with bonfires, feasting, and divination. We honour our ancestors and give thanks for a good harvest. It is also one of the nights of the year that the Wild Hunt rides, though they are more often seen nearer to Yule. They are only some of the beings from the otherworlds that tend to roam the night on this feast,” he said while Granger listened with rapt attention. “It is why we can commune with our dead.”

Salazar chuckled and motioned to the book that lay abandoned in Granger’s lap. He could go on and on. “Read that. It will give you more answers. I only ask that you please keep it to yourself. Others are not so welcoming or are as eager to learn. You are, of course, welcome to ask me any questions, I will try to do what I can to answer them or give you resources you can reference.” He had carefully enchanted it with a temporary translation charm as it had been one that he had written with Godric many years ago.

Granger hugged the book close to her chest as she stood up. “Thank you, Evans,” she said as she gave him a small smile. “You’ve given me a whole lot to think about. And I, uh, well… You seem familiar to me on some level,” she said. “Like I can trust you. I won’t break your trust,” she promised him. Salazar gave a nod in reply as he stood up as well. Ah, Gryffindors. They could be as loyal as Hufflepuffs. As he stood there, Granger suddenly darted in to hug him before she hurried out the door before Salazar could breathe a word. What a strange woman. Though she did have a certain charm.

Left to himself, Salazar breathed out a sigh and made his way over to his desk to look down at the books that were scattered over it. It still seemed too early for bed, but he did not want to do any work at the moment. He had all weekend for that. He did not have to do any rounds either, so perhaps a good long bath would do him some good. It would be a perfect way to wind down from the first hectic week of school, though it had been surprisingly successful. So he prepared a bath for himself with the addition of a floral and herbal bath soak that would help him to relax.

As the tub filled, Salazar undressed and twisted his hair carefully into a topknot to keep it out of the way. He then turned off the tap and carefully slid into the water. With the warmth that surrounded him as he sunk down into the water, Salazar gave a long sigh and closed his eyes. He had the best ideas.

As he relaxed, he heard a soft hiss before Eolas slipped into the water with him. The magical snake slipped about Salazar’s shoulders and ran his head against the wizard’s bearded jaw. The man smiled in return and ran a gentle finger along the snake’s smooth head. “Good evening, Eolas. How was the day for you?” He hissed the words softly to his familiar, his eyes still closed as the snake settled. He saw too little of his familiar. In his own time, the children had been used to Eolas’ presence being always nearby. Now the serpent often just roamed the hallways, a spy to make sure his Slytherins were both okay and to be sure they behaved themselves.

Eolas’ tongue flickered against Salazar’s collarbone as he held back a moment. The serpent hissed then, a wordless sound that doubled as a grumble. “The children are up to their usual mischief,” Eolas hissed in response after another moment. “Nothing that is too notable, to get your Slytherins in trouble. There were a few incidents with bullying in the hallways from other Houses. Gryffindors, of course. A couple of fifth years were taunting first years when they became lost in the halls near the Gryffindor commonroom. It did not end up with the use of magic at the very least.” At least his snakelings had taken it to heart when he told them to behave in the halls.

Still, Salazar breathed out a sigh and ran his fingers over Eolas’ scales. “What were the names of the Gryffindors?” While he did not want to put his Slytherins on the spot or seem like he favoured them unfairly, he wanted to confront the Gryffindor bullies publicly. Hopefully, it might give courage to any of his bullied students to come forward to him in the future. It would still be some time before the older students trusted him, but at the same time it was his first year students that were most vulnerable. He sighed and stroked Eolas’ head again. “What a delicate situation,” he breathed out.

Eolas hissed a nonsensical sound in agreement before butting his head against Salazar’s hand demandingly. “They called each other Liam and Jamison,” he responded to the question. The snake continued to fill in Salazar on several other incidents around the castle that had happened that day, but they were not important in the scheme of things. Satisfied, the snake settled his head against Salazar’s shoulder and lapsed into silence with the black haired wizard to enjoy the heat of the bath. And once the water had cooled, Salazar left the tub to dry off and slide beneath the covers of his bed. Eolas joined him beneath the warm blankets and curled up against his wizard for sleep.

((Page Break))

“Ah, Mister Holmes and Mister Brooke. Just the two boys I was looking for,” Salazar said as he strode up along the row between the House tables in the Great Hall. He had just entered the Great Hall for breakfast through the main doors so he could seek out the two fifth years. He had spotted the two with heads bent together as they conspired over something. Salazar kept his face close to serene so he did not smile too dangerously. “Fifteen points from Gryffindor each,” he said lightly. “And a detention with me tonight after dinner. You will meet with me in my classroom to carry out your punishment.” It might interrupt his weekend a little, but it disrupted their weekend more.

So he only looked down at the two teenagers when Jamison Holmes sputtered while Liam Brooke gaped at him. “W..what? Why??” Jamison demanded, about ready to jump to his feet and had even risen a bit with his hands pressed against the table. He was rewarded with a stern look from the professor that quickly had him slouched in his seat again with a properly chastised look. Liam swallowed thickly and avoided looking at the professor.

Satisfied that the two settled down, Salazar gave them a disappointed look. “Yesterday evening, did you both not stop three younger students from another House to ridicule them? I will not tolerate bullying, Mister Holmes.”

Whatever else he might have said was cut off as the doors to the Great Hall slammed open. Salazar had come to breakfast later than usual, so the hall was filled with children as they enjoyed the start to their weekend. But when the doors slammed open, it went very quiet in the room. A wizard that Salazar did not recognize ran down the center aisle and to the staff table where the Headmaster had stood up faster than his age implied he could. Salazar could not hear what was being said as the wizard whispered furiously to the Headmaster, but by the grave look that had overcome Dumbledore’s face it was not good.

Salazar shot a quick look back at the two Gryffindor boys. “Detention tonight. Do not forget,” he repeated sternly before he quickly strode towards the staff table. By the time he had arrived at the table, Dumbledore had already disappeared out to the side chamber along with a number of staff that Salazar were sure were Order members. Whatever had happened, he was sure that the Dark Lord was involved. As much as he wanted to go after Dumbledore and demand answers, he instead turned to one of the professors who had remained behind. “What happened?” He asked, his voice unapologetically clipped.

The woman had a scared look on her face as her eyes darted up to Salazar’s face. She swallowed thickly and her lips quivered as she opened her mouth. “You-know-who has attacked the Ministry of Magic!”

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

The woman had a scared look on her face as her eyes darted up to Salazar’s face. She swallowed thickly and her lips quivered as she opened her mouth. “You-know-who has attacked the Ministry of Magic!”

Chapter Seven

“Professor Evans?” A woman’s voice interrupted Salazar’s reading and, when he looked up, it was to see Granger in the doorway to his classroom. He greeted her softly, but waited for her to announce what she needed. “The Headmaster has returned and he’s calling for a staff meeting,” she told him, which answered his unspoken question. Salazar could see that she was worried, he himself had felt the current of worry throughout the day. The Headmaster had disappeared from the castle with most of his Order early on. He had heard nothing since, though Salazar had tried to occupy his day. He had spent most of it on his class preparations, though he had made potions for the infirmary on request. As for Granger, he had not seen her at all but Salazar was aware that her friend Weasley had gone with Dumbledore. He wondered if the man had returned safely, though he supposed he must have or else Granger would have likely been at his side or not as composed. But that aside, perhaps he would finally learn what had happened with the Ministry.

As he stood to his feet, Salazar gave a nod. “Give me just a moment,” he said as he banished his books back to his office and looked to the two students who looked up at him hopefully. They likely hoped that they were about to be freed from their detention. He would not let them off so easily. “Mister Holmes and Mister Brooke,” he nodded to them. “Finish your work. This is detention after all.” He tried not to smile at their deflated expressions. “I will be assigning a house elf to watch you. Once you finish with those cauldrons, the house elf will escort you back to your dormitory,” he told them sternly as he walked to the door. He immediately called a house elf and gave him orders to watch over the two students. They would likely be done before too much longer anyways.

With that out of mind now, Salazar closed the door behind him and then gave Granger a polite smile. “Shall we, then?” He made a motion for her to lead the way and then fell into step beside her. “Do you know anything?” Salazar asked after some time as the two of them walked through the hallways to the staff room. He could see Granger’s brow furrowed in worry, but she gave him a surprised look at his question as she was startled out of her thoughts. She only gave him a quick shake of her head in response, but Salazar found he couldn't be very much surprised. “I see,” Salazar said slowly before he came to a stop beside the staff door. “Well then, we shall find out together.” He offered her a smile that was meant to be reassuring, though he did not know how well it had come off that way.

Salazar reached for the handle then and let them inside, which he opened the staffroom door in time to hear Snape snap at one of the female professors, “By Salazar, woman, hold yourself together! Your blubbering is not helping matters!” Salazar could not help it really, could not stop his loud snort. It was strange to hear his name used as a declaration, but the dour DADA professor did not seem to find the same humour in it. Snape rounded on him immediately with, “You think this is funny, do you?” He demanded and Salazar held up a placating hand in response. He could see that tensions ran a little high. It had not been his intention to cause any more conflict, the timing as poor as it could be.

“Forgive me, but it is the use of Slytherin’s name that amuses me. Do Gryffindors use their founder’s name in such irreverent ways?” He asked this of Granger as he turned to her. The rest of the room seemed to watch them, but didn’t appear ready to jump in on the conversation.

When asked the question, Granger gave Salazar a confused shrug in response as she spoke a simple, “Some do.” She closed the door behind them as she spoke. “Some use the name of Merlin, as most others of the community.”

It was then that Weasley piped up from where he sat lounged in a chair with a smug, “My favourite is ‘by Godric’s sweaty left nut!’” Salazar was confused by the phrasing for only a beat before he felt himself go first pale and then a bit green. That was certainly not an image he wanted in his head. Through the inevitable of having lived with the man for so long on the road before they had established Hogwarts, he had certainly had the unfortunate luck of having actually seen Godric’s genitalia in all its rather nauseating glory. Given that Godric was decidedly his brother, it was absolutely not something he wanted to revisit. He knew Godric would have said the same of him.

“How horribly crude,” he deadpanned after a moment as he ignored the cackling of a pair of redheaded twins that could possibly be Weasley’s brothers. “I do not want that sort of image in my head of an illustrious founder.” As much as he hated Godric, he still loved his brother and felt he deserved respect.

Thankfully though, the conversation could not continue as the Headmaster cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “If you would all have a seat, we will begin. Miss Granger and Mister Evans are the last to arrive and now that they are here, we can start.” The room and staff table had been magically expanded as there were many more individuals than usual, Salazar noted. Most looked haggard and defeated. Was this the majority of the Headmaster’s Order? He had seen quite a number of them as they moved in and out of the castle, but there were quite a number more that he did not recognize either. But with them all here, and the expressions they bore, the news would not be good then. And it became obvious to him that it was not a large group when one considered the size of the magical community. Surely the Dark Lord's army surpassed the Order in their number? A pit of concern settled in his belly, made his chest tighten.

Still, Salazar kept his expression clear as he took his own seat and suddenly found himself with a twin on either side of him. He ignored them in face of the small pot in front of Dumbledore. A small head had poked itself out of what looked like ash. Salazar knew it to be Fawkes, but was concerned because the phoenix had not been anywhere near a burning day. “Took an AK for the old Headmaster,” the twins whispered in both his ears like an echo. Salazar ignored them, though he flexed his fingers in preparation if he needed to summon his wand. His focus though was on Dumbledore. He particularly noted that Dumbledore looked uncharacteristically grim from what he had come to expect from the old man. It was a stark contrast to his rather merry blue robes.

“The Ministry, it hurts me to say, has fallen into the hands of Voldemort,” the Headmaster spoke gravely into the uneasy silence. “As of today, the only safe place left in the British Isles is Hogwarts herself.” The room remained an almost unnatural quiet. “In light of these events, I have come to the decision that Hogwarts’ doors will be opened to refugees. It was both an easy decision, and one of the harder ones I have had to make. Hogwarts will always be, first and foremost, a school for the bright young minds of the wizarding youth. However, it would be remiss of us if we did not rise to help those in need if we have the ability to give them that help. In preparation though, we will need to ensure that this will not make us vulnerable to attack.”

With a frown, Salazar leaned against the table. “I suggest that there are adjustments to the wards,” he brought forward. “The wards should already be well constructed, but we could tighten restrictions on magical transportation to exclude all means of travel. It would come down to the use of the main gates for the only entrance through the wards by invitation. It is also possible to use a singular separately warded room for emergency transportation such as the floo.”

“It could be done if you wanted me to look at the wards, Professor,” another redhead spoke up. He was obviously another Weasley if that hair was any indication. He had never seen a colour that vibrant anywhere else here in this time. Just how many of them were there? “With as old as the wards likely are, it would be good to have them checked over anyways,” the Weasley continued with a wave of his hand.

The twins beside him whispered in his ears again. “That’s our dear old brother William, nickname Bill. He’s the eldest and a cursebreaker for Gringotts. Usually works in Egypt, he does, but home for the war.”

Salazar shot the twins a quick look from the corner of his eyes as he turned his attention back to the Headmaster. “I would be happy to help as well, sir. Potions may be what I have my mastery in, but I am well versed in several rune languages including Ogham and Futhark.” He had helped to create the wards for Hogwarts too after all, so he would know what should belong and what needed to be repaired. He was curious also about how the wards might have changed over the course of a thousand years.

The headmaster appeared to mull it over, but the youngest Weasley male piped up angrily with, “No! No way! He’ll probably destroy them instead and then we really will be bloody screwed! I don’t trust him, the slimy Slytherin!”

Salazar gave the younger man a smile that was too polite. “Is your only grievance with me solely the fact that I am the Head of Slytherin House? You do not know a single thing about me, Ronald Weasley, and yet you make these accusations against me. I have had enough. If Hogwarts is to be a refuge, then we must be able to work together and I cannot do that if you are fighting me at every turn.” He took his wand and placed it on the table in front of him. “In defense of my honour and the honour of my House, I challenge you.”

Ronald only sneered at him, seeming all too unconcerned. “Well, fine. Let’s duel then,” he said with a shrug.

Salazar held his tongue at the lack of etiquette but, before he could respond, two more wands were placed down on either side of him. It was much to his surprise that the twins gave identical grins as they proclaimed, “To ensure the challenged honour is not tarnished, we name ourselves Champions. As we will it, so shall it be.” Salazar echoed the last words, too surprised to do much else. No one named themselves as Ronald’s seconds, so the man was forced to ask Granger. The woman gave a long sigh and reluctantly agreed. In response, Hogwarts seemed to give a happy little quiver and the tips of their wands glowed brightly to seal the declaration.

Unable to intervene, Dumbledore hastily brought the meeting back to order. When he questioned Salazar on his ability to use runes, Salazar pushed up his sleeves once more to show off the bands around his forearms. He summoned a ball of flame within in palm and showed off the way that the runes glowed a faint red. "I did the work myself," he told the Headmaster and pushed his sincerity towards the man so he would pick it up. So, in the end, he agreed to let William and Salazar work together on the wards. Though Salazar was under the impression that it was also in part because William would be there to keep an eye on him and there was really no other option given the strop that they were in. The Study of Ancient Runes professor did not seem inclined to volunteer and had kept her mouth shut. Still, the wards needed to be done to ensure their safety after all. Then, with that settled, the rest of the meeting concluded with the Headmaster as he gave instructions to the various members of the Order to help prepare the empty corridors to house refugee families without any interference with classes.

When they were finally dismissed, Salazar stood up and called to get Ronald’s attention. “Ronald Weasley. I will see you tomorrow morning at seven sharp,” he instructed before he turned on his heel. “William, if you are willing, I will meet up with you after I have taken care of your brother.” He gave the man a polite smile, his expression more open than it had been with Ronald. “We could meet in the central ward room.”

William blinked at him, but gave a nod of his head and made his way closer to Salazar. “Sure, of course.” He smiled at the taller man and offered his hand. Salazar hesitated before he clasped forearms with the slightly older and shorter wizard. William smiled a little wider. “The central ward room is beneath the Great Hall, so I can meet you in the side chamber to show you down,” he offered as he let go of Salazar’s arm.

Salazar nodded his agreement. “That sounds like a good plan. I will see you shortly after seven, then,” he stated as he ignored Ronald’s huffing and blustering. Instead, the dark haired wizard started for the door. As he left the staffroom, the twins followed after him. He glanced over his shoulder at them curiously as he left for his quarters. They continued after him still, but Salazar did not protest. Instead, he invited them in as they reached his office door.

Once the door was shut behind them, the twins made themselves comfortable on his couch before they gave him identical grins. Salazar regarded them a moment before he breathed out a sigh. “I do not suppose I actually have to ask you my questions do I?” He said as he sunk down into his own chair. He had many questions for them, but he thought a good number of them were obvious. So, he remained quiet and waited for them to say their piece. Instead, he watched as the two exchanged looks before one pulled out a piece of old folded parchment. He glanced at it curiously, able to feel the bit of magic that was integrated into the harmless looking object. It did not feel obviously dangerous at any rate. He still said nothing.

“I’m Frederick and that’s George,” one of the twins piped up. “But do call him Fred, yeah?” The other twin continued. “Harry Potter was the friend of our brother Ron once upon a time before he went missing. He was attacked by Riddle and just seemed to poof into thin air. His relatives’ house was destroyed, though his trunk managed to survive with it being magical and all. This was among his belongings and we’re the ones who gave it to him, so we took it back for safe keeping. It’s called the Marauder’s Map and it’s quite useful.” Salazar didn’t like the look of that smile. It seemed pleasant enough on the surface, but there was an air of mischievous energy not quite hidden beneath.

Frederick opened up the parchment and tapped it with his wand while he spoke quietly, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” He said the words with a proud curl to his lips, but Salazar was more concerned about the ink that was slowly revealed on the parchment. Marauder’s Map certainly gave it away as it was a map of the school. What concerned him, as he continued to watch, was the names written beneath each of the markers for every individual currently residing in Hogwarts’ castle. There could be no question why they were showing this to him. Clearly stated in his room were three names. Frederick Fabian Weasley. George Gideon Weasley. Salazar Slytherin. The name flickered like a ripple in a stark contrast to the other names on the Map, but Salazar ignored it for the more obvious concern.

Salazar’s gaze immediately shot to the twins across from him as he waved his wand to lock the door. He kept the wand loose in his hand, settled across his lap. He would defend himself, but was no threat to them otherwise. “Have you shown this to anyone?” He asked them sharply, but they both only chuckled and shook their heads. Salazar gave them a rather flabbergasted look, unable to control his confusion though he managed to reel in most of his surprise after only a moment. Why were they so calm? They had to have known this too before they had promised to aid him in his duel. “I know how history portrays me. And yet you defend my honour,” he spoke slowly. “You know who I am. Your brother is in Gryffindor. So why?”

The two exchanged amused looks before they faced Salazar and sobered up. “We were supposed to be sorted into Slytherin,” they told him. “Our parents are strong Gryffindors and our three older brothers were in Gryffindor. So we convinced the Hat that our Gryffindor traits were stronger instead.” Salazar noted he was going to need to have a long talk with that stupid Hat. He motioned for the two to continue. “We made friends with some Slytherins behind the scenes, but ultimately had to act like brash Gryffindors. Mostly. Misleading.” The two exchanged looks again. “We’ve been in the castle since before you arrived, but we kept watch. We have the map, but Ron knew about it and we don’t want him to know we have it back. Good thing too.”

They looked back to him and gave him grins again. “When we saw your name, we knew we had to meet you. And let us just say that you are absolutely nothing and everything like we expected!”

Salazar let himself relax and looked amused as his eyes darted between the two of them. Still, he was not quite sure how to deal yet with this development. “I would like you to know that the greatest test for a Slytherin is to hide what they are, hide the softest parts of their being. My Slytherins are ambition and cunning, ones who knows how to survive. It is one who knows how to fight and when to step away from a fight.” He smiled, though it was bittersweet. “After all, it is how my Slytherins survive. And, more than that, it is how my Slytherins thrive.” He looked the two over. “I have taught my Slytherins that the only ones they can absolutely completely trust are themselves. We have to be a family because who else might support us? We have to be ambitious because how else will we get anywhere? You know how broken many of them are, but how they all attempt to hide it. It is that which has them grow to be driven to people like the Dark Lord because as children they were never given the right path. They will raise children who are like themselves and the cycle will continue. I am here now. And I have to stop the cycle.” A cycle that had had a thousand years to fester.

There was silence for several beats as the twins seemed to digest what he had said. Finally, they gave bobs of their heads. “You know, we had always wondered why you seemed to disappear from history. You’re never mentioned after you were exiled from Hogwarts. You were brought here,” Frederick observed. Salazar only gave a nod. “What happened? We want to hear your story, not the one passed down through history. It’s had hundreds of years to lose the truth.”

Salazar looked between the twins seriously for a long moment before he gave them a slow nod as he decided to go out on a limb. Take a chance. He needed allies in this timeline anyhow and they already knew who he was. “I am willing to answer your questions, but you must understand how precarious my position is here. I harbour no ill will, but I cannot allow myself to take you fully at face value. In order to satisfy my concerns, I would like to ask of you both to give me an Oath that you will not tell anyone who I really am,” he told them sternly. There was something about the two of them that called to him. They had a playful air, but at the same time he felt surprisingly comfortable. It had been like with Granger, yet different. “I also ask that you will oath that you have not misled me with your words.” An Oath was not as binding as a Vow, though it was something that was once taken very seriously. An Oath was tied to one's honour, one's luck, after all and was not to be taken lightly.

“Sir, yes sir!” The twins saluted him but Salazar only raised an eyebrow at the eccentric pair. The two cackled at him as they pulled out their wands. It was then that they sobered and held out their wands in the palms of their hands. “We, Frederick Weasley and George Weasley, swear on our honour that we have not misled Salazar Slytherin. And by our honour we oath to keep his secrets safe from those who are unaware, in so much that it does not harm those within our protection.” Sparks of magic swirled around the three of them and teased a laugh from Salazar’s lips. He gave them a wolfish grin, full of teeth, but amused nonetheless. It was a well spoken oath, one that tied him to his own secrets if he wanted them kept. It was flexible. He had not expected anything less.

Finally, Salazar allowed himself to more fully relax as he sheathed his wand against his forearm. He hissed softly then, a call to his familiar who appeared moments later. The snake draped himself across Salazar’s shoulders and hissed softly in the man’s ear. Salazar hummed thoughtfully before he began. “I had an adopted brother,” he told them softly as his heart tightened with his chest. “Cayden Slytherin. He was a mundane born child who had been hurt by his parents because of his abilities, though he never told even me the extent of his past. Many of my students were abused or abandoned children because their upbringings hardened them and stole their innocence. It was only the way they knew how to survive. I helped them where I could and a great many of them were mundane born. History paints me with a hatred for all mundanes and their blood, weaves a story that I petitioned the others to bar mundane born children from the hallowed halls of the school.”

Salazar’s brow was furrowed as he lifted his gaze to the twins across from him. “I confess that I felt anger towards the parents who abandoned their children. Hatred is an unyielding word, though sometimes my anger could get the best of me. But not all mundanes hated their children. There were some that attempted to understand them. I traveled amongst the mundanes and found friends among them. I feel strongly against those who harm their children, mundanes and magicals alike, but do not extend that hatred over general populations.” His voice quieted then and he spoke barely over a whisper. “Cayden took the hate a step further. I could not say where it had all started, if the madness had always been there yet well hidden even from me. He started to gather followers in like minded individuals, led raids against mundane villages. By the time we found out who was behind the attacks, it was too late.” The thought of his brother still hurt. Especially the knowledge that he had missed Cayden’s madness and it had resulted in the death of innocents. Salazar took a stablizing breath before he continued.

“When the other Founders ordered me from Hogwarts, it was because they decided that they no longer wanted the Dark Arts taught. I thought that I had known them, that they had known me. Whatever slight they had of me they let grow secretly out of control until there could be no reconciliation between us, for I had no knowledge of it.” He stroked Eolas’ head, the motion one that grounded him. “My mind betrayed me. The only thing I could focus on was Cayden. I had nothing else for me now.” Part of him must have expected to die. “I found him on his homestead, the base he had begun to build himself. It was there that we dueled and I defeated him.” Salazar’s eyes grew distant. “I cannot pretend to have all the answers. Magic hang heavy in the air and spellcasting was ceased abruptly amongst the wild magic that Cayden was gathering to himself. Perhaps it was the will of the gods, but it all came to a head and exploded. When I woke again, it was here over a thousand years into the future.” It was straight to the point.

Salazar gave the twins a sly smile then as he focused back on their expressions, the look of man as he shared a secret. “I never sired a child, to my knowledge. However, I believe that Cayden may have. He had his sweethearts. When not taken by madness, he was charming. Slytherin was not the only family to carry parseltongue in its bloodline, but it is my belief that it is from Cayden’s line that Riddle was likely born. I do not recognize that man as an Heir.” His smirk grew and he scratched underneath Eolas’ head. “I am recognized as Head of the family of Slytherin even now, so I have denounced Riddle. He is no blood of mine and is not worthy of the family magics.”

The twins stared for a moment before they cackled. “Oh, yes! That is perfect!” The two crowed as they doubled over each other in laughter. “We would have paid to see old Voldy’s face when he realized he couldn’t talk to his dear pet anymore!” Salazar watched them in amusement. There was just something about the two redheads. He would still closely guard his heart and his secrets, but he could see himself getting along with them in the very least. “It might have been why he upped his game though. He tends to be a bit rash when he gets angry. Nasty temper on that one,” the twins commented as they finally seemed to calm down a bit. Salazar refused to feel guilty for having provoked Riddle’s anger. It was something the man would have likely done regardless and there were other things to worry about. What was done was done.

“You know, this all does explain why you wear such odd clothes beneath your robes,” George piped up, a grin that spread his lips a touch too wide. “It might seem a bit old-fashioned to some, but it’s not the worst thing out there that we have seen mages wear. Enough to not be questionable.”

Salazar gave a soft snort and tilted his head. “It is comfortable and familiar,” he drawled before he curled his lips in a smile. “With the duel that comes next morn, I do not suppose I shall need your help against your brother,” he commented lightly as he changed the subject. “What happened cannot be changed, but this will not cause any grievance between your family, will it? You have pledged to defend the honour of Slytherin House after all. That is quite a large statement to make.”

The room was quiet for a moment before the twins exchanged looks and then turned their serious gazes on Salazar. “It might. But there is more at stake than just our family’s sensibilities. We felt it was time to take a stand and we know of no one better than you to lead the way.”

He could not stop the huff of a laugh. “One of the meanings of Herrick is war ruler,” he said quietly. “It was a name given to me, not one I chose for myself. I suppose I must accept this as my lot in life.” Sometimes it was funny how things came full circle. He trailed his fingers underneath Eolas’ head and gathered his thoughts. The time grew late, but he had a few things he wanted to ask the twins still. “What are your affinities?” He began first with this question before he explained himself. “If you are willing, I would like to make use of your knowledge and abilities. Magical twins such as you are extremely rare.”

The two hummed softly and gave Salazar mirroring grins. “You’re the first to ever make mention that we are magical twins, you know. Most think we’re just a bit crazy. More crazy than we really are, of course.” They gave echoing laughs as they leaned against each other. Salazar waited patiently before they finally answered his question. “We’re Grey,” they told him. “With a leaning towards Dark.”

Salazar let himself laugh. “Yes, I can see the chaos in you both. I did not want to assume, but it is a breath of fresh air after being surrounded by so many decidedly not Dark predisposed alignments. The children’s alignments still do not count because they are constantly fluctuating as they grow into their magic, though the fluctuations often veer away from both Dark and Grey.”

“Are you a Dark wizard? Or has history gotten that wrong?” The twins asked him eagerly as they actually leaned forward in their seats.

Salazar snorted softly as he gave a small shrug of his shoulder. “I am a Dark wizard,” he agreed. “Though it borders the threshold of a Grey alignment.” He took a moment then to gather his thoughts before he breathed out a soft sigh. “I want to task you with something. It concerns the complexities of the mind.” He levelled them with a serious look. “Ten years ago I was the victim of some sort of magical event that stole my memories from me and gave me this scar.” He lightly touched the engraved mark over his brow and cheek. “It was in the aftermath that Godric found me. We traveled together, made friends of Rowena and Helga. We had barely opened Hogwarts for a few years when I was banished. All through those ten years my memories have been lost to me, though I have had flashes.” Flashes that he believed now might have been entwined with visions of what was now both past and present. How else could it explain the castle in his visions in ways that had not yet come to pass? His dreams had always been confusing, too real to be mere dreams.

“I tell this to you in confidence,” Salazar told the twins seriously. “I built an entire life for myself after I had only my name as my own. I want back what was lost to me, however. There has been a thousand years of new innovations and further understanding of magic. I have no time to research on my own.” Not with the way things were suddenly all falling down into his lap and the depth of research into other things he still did most nights. “But, perhaps, you might be able to find an explanation for me. A way to return my memories to me.” It would keep the twins occupied as well, to see how well he really could trust them.

George and Frederick exchanged a look that contained an entire conversation. “We’ll do it,” they told Salazar seriously as they turned their eyes as one to the slightly older wizard.

Salazar offered a smile before he climbed to his feet. “I would appreciate it. Now, I believe that we have spoken long enough. I wanted to review some ward lore before I retired to bed for the night.” He would not let anticipation of his duel with Ronald stress him. So he bid good night to the twins and showed them from his office. Salazar perused his collection of books before he selected a few of them. Salazar, of course, had time run away from him and he studied the material long into the night before he finally retired to bed to sleep. It was much later than he had planned and he was up early the next morning just as usual.

His poor sleep fueled his ire. Woe to the Weasley brat, but he was not going to get off lightly. Salazar vowed this testily as he bathed and dressed. Part of him wanted to wear his full metal and dragon scale armour, go for full intimidation. But this was merely a duel and full armour would draw far too much attention. At the same time, most wizards seemed to prefer robes for everything but Salazar found them too cumbersome for things like duels especially. He instead opted for a dark green tunic with embroidered hems, runes stitched amongst the elaborate designs. Over it he wore a simple leather vest that would offer a basic level of protection. His ever present sword remained illusioned at his side as he buckled the belt about his waist.

Once dressed, and he carefully tied his hair back with multiple braids, Salazar summoned a house elf to bring him a light breakfast. As he waited, he took care of his other morning routines. Then, once he had finished his meal, he strode purposefully from his rooms and dungeons towards the entrance doors. He pushed them open and made his way down onto the lawn. The fresh air eased some of his irritability, but it quickly returned when a crowd gathered to watch the duel but Ronald Weasley did not appear.

When Salazar had first set foot on the lawn, the twins had joined him first. They had helped him construct a dueling circle with staves that Salazar had carved. Not long after, onlookers had joined to watch. Most of them were Order members, but there were members of the staff as well. Even a few students had joined, though it was mostly older years with groggy stares that wondered what was going on. It was ten minutes past seven by the time that Ronald finally sauntered through the doors and down to the ring. Granger followed behind him, though her lips were drawn tight with suppressed anger. Salazar spared her a glance and a nod of greeting before he turned the fullness of his attention on Ronald.

“You are late.” His voice was cool as the wizard was not happy that he had been forced to wait. His ire only increased when the Weasley brat shrugged his shoulders without care. Salazar thought that the young man had not taken this duel seriously. He wondered if it was arrogance, overestimation of his own abilities, or if he just did not understand the gravity of the duel.

“You shouldn’t have picked such a bloody horrible time to have a duel then,” Ronald grumbled with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Not my fault as it’s so bloody early. So let’s just get this over with then. I didn’t even have time for breakfast, you know! Bloody git.” He pulled his hands from his pockets finally and brandished his wand.

Salazar’s lips curled in a disgusted sneer. He took a few steps back and flicked his wrist so his wand slid into his hand. Outside the circle, one of the twins tapped on one of the staves to activate it. It lit up with a pale blue light before a chain reaction went around the circle of staves to create a protective circle. It would stop most wayward spells. It eased Salazar on some level and he breathed out a steadying breath. He kept his wand pointed towards the ground. “I have challenged you to defend the honour of my person and the honour of my House. Shall I win, tradition dictates that you, Ronald Weasley, apologize for every remark you have made against me and against my House. Should I lose, and my Champions fail, then I am dishonoured.” Much rode on this duel, more than Ronald likely realized. However, Salazar was not overly worried. In the unlikelihood that he lost, both twins were allowed to duel at once given their nature as magical twins. Even he would have difficulties against them and he had been renowned as one of the better duelers of their age, on par with Godric.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with,” Ronald said and then threw a stunner. Salazar frowned and flicked it away with a wordless spell. “Expelliarmus,” was the next spell Ronald cast, but Salazar flicked it away as well. There were basic spells and with not a lot of power behind them, but Salazar could concede that they were cast quickly. He wondered how good Ronald’s defense was, how fast he could move or shield.

Salazar brought his wand up sharply and made a quick slashing motion. Opposite of Ronald’s loud spellcasting, Salazar softly intoned, “Dì-armachadh.” Disarm. The spell whistled through the air, a spark of red light that trailed like a comet.

“Protego!” The hasty shield was thrown up by Ronald at the last moment so Salazar’s spell impacted against it. It held against the strength of Salazar’s jinx, but fractured like lightning. Salazar’s second spell, cast rapidly and silently after the first, slammed through the weakened shield and impacted into Ronald’s chest. It threw him back, but Ronald was able to roll with the direction of the impact and spring back to his feet. He retaliated with a growled bludgeoning curse, but Salazar easily danced out of the way.

Ronald was rather adequate at defense, Salazar decided. His shield spells were powerful enough to give him time to roll out of the way and he was somewhat agile. But once he had a feel for the man’s movements, Salazar jabbed his wand forward. “Dall.” Blind. The spell sizzled and spiraled with a magnesium light. Ronald shielded his eyes as he rolled, but Salazar anticipated where the man would dodge. “Bidh freumhaichean ag èirigh.” Roots rise. The spell rolled off his tongue with the speed of practice.

Roots sprang from the ground and coiled around Ronald’s ankles. They brought him fully to the ground and snaked their way up his legs. The redhead tried to use fire to get them off, but Salazar took the opportunity to disarm his opponent finally. With the man’s wand in hand, he looked over to Granger. “You are his second,” he said unconcernedly. She would be a bit more of a challenge, but he was not surprised when she held her wand out to him instead.

Granger offered a weak smile. “I forfeit and recognize that we were in the wrong.”

Salazar summoned the wand and then gave Granger a nod. “I will give you your wands back once he has apologized,” he accepted as he released Ronald from his restraints with a twirl of his wand.

Immediately, Ronald was on his feet and he wasted no time to round on Granger. “What the bloody hell, Hermione?” He looked ready to gear up into a meltdown or a tantrum. Granger beat him to it, much to Salazar’s amusement.

“Ronald Weasley!” The woman’s voice was rather shrill and had made quite a few onlookers cringe. “What has gotten into you?” Her flyaway hair seemed to stand more on end as she placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward. “Ever since Professor Evans got here, you have been nothing but spiteful and… and rude! I thought you were over such immature schoolboy behaviour!” She pointed a finger at him and jabbed it into his chest. “Professor Evans was a bit standoffish in the beginning, but what has he ever done to you, hm? You should know that not every Slytherin is evil… an evil git like most Death eaters! Maybe Slytherins are always ever alone because people like you who won’t even give them the benefit of the doubt! I will have you know that Professor Evans is a very intelligent man and can be rather enjoyable to converse with! I might even call him a friend!”

Well, let it not be said that Gryffindors were not trusting or made friends quickly. He could not say the same for himself, but it rather benefited him in the end to have a woman like Granger decide he was worthy of trust. And it was worth it if only to see the look that emerged in Ronald’s expression. He looked constipated, Salazar decided. “Now apologize, you daft imbecile!” Granger’s next words nearly made him crack a smile. It was always amusing to see a normally composed individual lose their temper. Granger was no exception.

“God, woman,” Ronald muttered and then turned to Salazar. “I’m sorry, alright? I, uh, take back everything I said about you or your House,” he tried to speak formally, but floundered a bit. If he considered how many children there seemed to be in the Weasley family, Salazar was not surprised that the man’s manners were a bit lacking. No offence to the parents, of course, but with that many children a few things were bound to be unintentionally passed over. Manners were usually the first to be missed, as he had seen first hand.

Salazar offered the two wands to their owners. “I accept your apology under the condition that you refrain from such comments in the future. Next time I shall not be so kind,” he told Ronald cordially, Once the two had their wands back, the twins dismantled the circle. Salazar gathered the staves and looked over his shoulder at Ronald, with the weak hope the man recognized the insult in Salazar showing his back to him. “I recommend you form your own opinion, Ronald Weasley, not follow the prejudiced views of others. Have you ever tried to get along with Slytherins, or do you pick on innocent children until they have no choice but to retaliate? Think about it.” He stepped out of the circle. “And think about what sort of life they must lead with the parents they have.”

Salazar did not stop to see or hear Ronald’s response. As he strode back towards the castle, the twins came to flank his sides. “He’s a good man, our little brother. He’s had to mature during a war after all. But he inherited our mother’s temper and pigheadedness. As the youngest boy, he tends to be forgotten. Charlie is a dragon tamer. Bill is a cursebreaker. Percy worked in the Ministry as soon as he graduated. All upstanding examples of success. It’s a lot to compete again. But he’ll come around. He has Hermione to bring him some rationality.” The twins said as they pulled open the doors to the castle.

Salazar immediately headed for the Great Hall, though he made sure to approach the side chamber rather than the main hall. Breakfast was still available after all and he wanted to avoid the students. “I have dealt with his type before. He will come to see sense eventually, but it will not be without a few confrontations first. He will only become tolerable at best, however. He does not like to be proved wrong.” There were a few others he knew that were the same.

Before the twins had time to agree or disagree, however, Salazar was forcefully knocked into Frederick by someone who had just stepped out from behind a tapestry shortcut. The redhead steadied Salazar as the man who crashed into Salazar snarled. “Watch where you are walking, Evans.”

“Sirius, wait! I’m so sorry, Evans. He’s in a foul mood. Sirius, wait up you ridiculous man!” Lupin barely stopped to apologize before he had run off after Black again.

Salazar straightened his clothes before they were in the corridor alone again. “Harry Potter was his godson,” the twins said quietly. “And you happen to look enough like him that we think it’s bringing back memories for him.” They both looked to Salazar. “After Harry disappeared, he became bitter. Hunted for him forever, but never found a trace of what happened to him.”

Salazar was silent for a beat as he reached out to wrap his hand around the handle to the adjoining chamber. “I am not who he is looking for,” he said quietly. “Though I will admit that the family resemblance runs strong. Strong enough for me to believe that he might be my distant grandson, or some such relation. I may have been careful to not sire a child, but I could never say with certainty that I had not. I suppose then it it is likely that I really did father a child. I cannot fully fault Black for seeing another in my face, but I am not who he longs for.”

He opened the door then and never saw the look that the twins shared. Inside the chamber, the door opened to reveal both William and the Headmaster. “Ah, excellent. Mr Weasley, Professor Evans. I shall leave you to it then,” Dumbledore said with a quick clap of his hands. “Have a house elf get me if you need anything. Mr. and Mr. Weasley, if you would come with me, we shall leave these two to their work.” Dumbledore spoke cheerfully as he herded the twins back towards the door.

The twins grinned and gave Salazar identical salutes before they followed after the Headmaster who closed the door behind them. “You can trust Bill,” they whispered to him before they left his side. Salazar smiled briefly to himself before he headed closer to William. The man gave him a polite nod.

“Well, after you,” Salazar said with a small gesture. He knew exactly where the central rune hall was, but he allowed William to take the lead. The man nodded at him before he drew his wand and approached the door to the Great Hall. Instead of opening the door right away, the redhead tapped a sequence of stones from what took up the frame of the door. Small etched ogham runes lit up before one flashed in the center of the door itself. When William opened it, it no longer opened into the Great Hall. Instead, it now opened to a dark stairwell. As William descended the stairs, torches on either side lit to light his path. Salazar closed the door behind them and followed after him.

When they came to the bottom of the stairs, it opened into a large room that ran the same size as the Great Hall above them. The room itself was plain, all grey stone and simple torches for light. The main feature of the room was the large chunk of crystal embedded in the center of the hall. It pulsed with silver light, almost like a heartbeat. Hogwarts’ heart. “Hello, my dear,”  he said softly. He smiled a bit when she wrapped around him almost like a hug. Her presence was stronger here at her heart. Salazar closed his eyes for a moment to savour the feeling, then focused on the silvery lines that were etched deep into the stone and branched off like spiderwebs. They pulsed with the crystal’s heartbeat. At a quick glance, all seemed well. But the longer he stood there, the more he saw the degradation in places. He could not be very surprised, though it was a concern.

Salazar breathed out softly at a moment and then turned to William. The man had crouched down to inspect one of the lines on the floor. “We shall have to check the cardinal stones as well out on the grounds,” he remarked. Salazar then walked over to the wardstone and bent down to take a closer look, but glanced at William out of the corner of his eye. “Your brothers, Frederick and George, say that I can trust you.” He smirked a little as he straightened up. “I do believe that I can trust you with the welfare of Hogwarts. However, I would like to ask an Oath of you.”

The redhead straightened from his crouch and he gave Salazar a frown. “I’m sorry, what?” He had his wand in his hand, but didn’t move to raise it. He didn’t look particularly tense, but there was a wary look in his eyes. “Why should I make a vow? And I assume it would have to do with the wards in some regard, but in what way that you would require an Oath? Why should I trust you?”

He did not mind the suspicion at all. ”I have reason to believe that I have an ability that will help us take a more in depth look at the wards. I want them strengthened just as much as you do as the lives of many families and children depend upon it,” he said seriously. “I will need your full cooperation to strengthen the wards. It is not something that one person could do alone.” He paused as he regarded William. “I know my ability would help us with the wards.”

“Why should I trust you?” William stressed with another frown. He still did not put away his wand, but it was also still at a resting position. “Will you give me your word that you do not wish to harm Hogwarts or anyone in her if I agree to your oath?” He asked in return, which pleased Salazar. He would agree because it was both true and it would hopefully work well for him to have another wizard on his side. And the twins did seem to trust the man, so perhaps it could work out in other ways as well.

“I can agree to those terms,” Salazar inclined his head as he pulled out his own wand. “I, Herrick, swear on my honour that my only goal is to protect the safety of Hogwarts and her students. I intend no ill will and I only wish to bring her back to her full glory,” he promised solemnly to which William relaxed somewhat and gave his own oath in return to keep Salazar’s ability secret. Satisfied, the founder carefully slipped his wand back into its holder for now. “I appreciate the show of trust, however small it may be. He turned back to look at the wardstone as he gathered his thoughts. “I am a parselmouth,” he said bluntly and raised his eyes to look at William. “I am not sure where exactly the ability came from, but there might have been some Greek blood somewhere down the line.” The first examples of the parseltongue ability were from Ancient Greece. It was the Greeks that had actually originally created the parselrunes that he had learned and incorporated with the Hogwarts’ wards. Perhaps it really was possible that was where he had gotten his ability from, some ancient Greek priest for an ancestor. He would never truly know.

“It is not something I exercise often, however I think it will be useful in this case,” Salazar continued as he turned his gaze back to William. “Salazar Slytherin was one of the founders, so I can assume that he worked on the original wards. With my own ability, I have studied parselrunes and I believe I will be able to strengthen the wards like no one has likely been able to do since Hogwarts’ creation.” There was silence when he finished, but William seemed to be at a loss for words more than anything.

Suddenly, the redhead let out an explosive rush of air. “That is absolutely, utterly fascinating! I would absolutely love to see how it works!” He said as he waved his wand. “I worked as a cursebreaker in Egypt. There are some magical tombs we have excavated from the Ptolemy era where we have found parselrunes that we were never able to translate,” he chattered excitedly as he created a projection of the rune map. As he worked the magic, the ward stone hummed and then a web of runes was projected into the air above the crystal. William continued on with the same excitement. “I ended up actually taking a peek at this last night before I went to bed because I wanted to get a head start. I noticed a degrading layer of runes, but they are parselrunes just as you said would likely be there. Many of the other runes seemed to have been updated since their original creation, but this level hasn’t been.” He used his wand to bring forth the level that he had been talking about. The runes in the web pulsed weakly and had a duller sort of hue than the other ones in the rest of the web.

Salazar stepped forward to get a closer look. He frowned a little as he drew his wand and coaxed a few of the strands forward. “The parsel strands are definitely the ones that are most degraded. They have not been touched in a very long time, if they ever were after Slytherin first created them.” He had not thought about that when he had added them to the wards. While he knew that they would strengthen the wards, that which gave them strength was also a weakness. He had not been at Hogwarts long enough in the end to really address the problem. Now, the results of that oversight were plain to see before him.

“We will have to repair the runes,” he murmured as he found the corresponding lines etched into the floor. They were scattered about, but worn down to nearly nothing. “Was it incompetence or just plain idiocy of past runesmiths?”

William looked over to him curiously. The redhead had conjured up a table and pulled rolls of blank parchments from a bag. “What do you mean?”

Salazar crouched down and ran his fingers over the worn marks. “The parselrunes are entwined with Ogham in particular. There is evidence of restoration on the Ogham runes, but it is sloppy and some of them border on destruction of the parselrunes.” He stood back up and strode over to the table that William had set up. “I suggest we ask the Headmaster if there is any material left by previous Headmasters that may detail what changes to the wards have happened over the years.” He looked over to William as he selected a self inking quill and a roll of parchment. “Some of the layers are newer than others and I do not want to make any changes until we know for sure where everything has been woven together.”

William nodded his head in agreement. “We’re also going to want to know everything that the wards are supposed to do. I don’t particularly want to set off anything by poking needlessly at it. I’ll ask Professor Dumbledore about it if you want to start copying down the layers, the parselrunes in particular. I’ll be back to help you copy them down in a bit.” He figured it would be easier than trying to get a house elf to relay the message since the documents, if they existed, would likely be in the Headmaster's office anyways. He had a feeling that the Headmaster would want to know his thoughts on the potions’ professor anyhow.

Once he was alone, Salazar opened the roll of parchment and started to painstakingly take down the rune web. He was sure that he and the other founders had taken a record of what would be written into the ward web when they created it, but the records were now likely lost to history if the Headmaster did not have them. He was not very optimistic of it. So he made sure to copy everything. He made notes of what appeared to be newer layers and which strands seemed to be deteriorating. It was painstaking work and William eventually returned to help him take down the runes. He had come back empty handed, but Salazar had not really expected much.

“You were gone for some time,” he observed after a while as he rotated the projection. “He asked about me, did he not?” He glanced up to see William’s face turn into a rather sheepish expression.

The man nodded and wrote down a few more runes before he replied. “I will be frank. He did ask about you. But it was mostly about how we got along and what I thought of you,” he said with a shrug of his shoulder. “I told him you seem the type to play things close to the chest, but I do not sense any ill will from you. I told him that I truly believe that you want to protect the school and its students. I think I will enjoy working with you, and I told him that.” William gave him a smile and then focused back on their work of copying the runes. Salazar was not quite sure how to respond, though he gave the man quiet thanks before they both silently kept on working.

They were interrupted around midday by a house elf that brought them lunch on Dumbledore’s orders. As they ate the light meal of soup and sandwiches, the two men discussed the rune patterns that they had already had a chance to work out. “I started on the oldest layer, the parselrunes aside,” Salazar said after he had swallowed a sip of his soup. “They had deteriorated the worst, but I do not think we will be able to reinforce them until I have translated the parselrunes that are entwined with the layer.” He had to be sure of what runes were there before he could attempt anything. He remembered a number of them from what the wards had been woven, but the sheer number of them meant he did not have them all memorized. Salazar waved his spoon a bit as he spoke. “Some of the newer layers we can reinforce with the way they were laid overtop of the existing web rather than being integrated with it. It should be enough to keep out any surprise attacks until we finish with the rest of the wards. At the very least.” As long as all went well.

William swallowed a large bite of his sandwich before he replied with a nod. “I agree on that. We’ll have to translate all of the older layers before we can do any work on them, but I think the newer ones are simple enough that they’ll be easy enough to work with. You’re right that they don’t interconnect with the older layers enough to cause any problems. We should be able to strengthen them tomorrow and then get to work on translating the rest of the layers to understand what we need to do with them next.”

With a chuckle, Salazar stood up. “Before we can commit to that, we need to take a look at the cardinal stones around the castle grounds. I suggest we make sure they are in complete working order and then we can come back to finish copying the rune web.” William gave a nod of agreement and stood up after he had stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. Salazar gave him an unimpressed look before he turned on his heel and led the way out. Once they had made it out onto the grounds, he motioned for William to lead the way. “I assume that the Headmaster gave you the locations for the cardinal stones?” He could not let William know he knew where they were after all.

The redhead gave Salazar a rather mischievous grin that reminded him of the twins. “You up for a bit of walking, Evans? The North stone is near the boundary wall on a mound. The East stone is at a point along the carriage track from the train station for the Express. The South stone is along the boundary wall near Hogsmeade and the West stone is nearby a paddock that Hagrid uses along the edge of the Forbidden Forest.” Oh, Salazar knew there would be a bit of walking, but he grimaced at William in response. The redheaded man only laughed.

As they headed first towards the North stone, William took it upon himself to regale Salazar with tales of his time in Egypt. The founder had to admit that it was rather interesting to hear about the tombs that William worked on, ancient even during the time he had helped to build Hogwarts. Some of the curses seemed rather interesting as well and it intrigued Salazar enough to make a note to look up more information on them later when he was not so consumed by more pressing problems. Perhaps William had a few scrolls or books that he was willing to part with for a time.

When they reached the mound that contained the North stone, Salazar could feel the pulse of energy that it gave off. He was sure that it worked the way it was meant to, but they would know for sure after a closer inspection. He climbed the mound to where a small scattering of trees grew. They were very old trees, but yet still very slender and ageless in appearance. He remembered these trees. Salazar assumed it was the power of the North stone that kept them suspended in time. He paused outside the ring of trees and waited for William. The man removed his wand and tapped it against one of the trees three times. An invisible barrier shimmered to allow them entrance.

Within the circle was a stone altar with a small crystal embedded in the center of the ancient stone. Like the ward hall, the altar was etched with hundreds of strands of runework. None of it seemed to have been meddled with at any rate, the runes and the crystal itself aglow with a green light that reminded Salazar of new growth and life.

As he came in closer, Salazar inspected the altar thoroughly. William stepped opposite of him to do the same, though he created a rune web with a tap of his wand. Salazar carefully rotated through the layers before he nodded in satisfaction. “Do you have a knife with you?” He asked William, who only nodded and dug it out of his bag. Salazar traced the rune web back to the etchings on the stone and pointed out a few of the runes. “Good. The runes here and here,” he said he pointed to them. “These need to be carved deeper into the stone. Time has worn these ones away, but the rest seem to be in excellent condition. We do not have to worry about the North stone.” William came forward to do his own observations, but then ended up in agreement so he carefully carved out the runes. There was a strong pulse from the crystal and it started to shine brighter.

Both pleased that something had gone well for them, the two wizards started the trek to the East stone. The East stone was just off of the carriage tracks in a small protected grove of trees on a similar altar as the North stone. This stone glowed with yellow energy and needed similar attention as the North stone. With little to do, they were soon able to move on to the South stone. This crystal was the better preserved of the three they had inspected, hidden in a small alcove along the boundary wall. This stone pulsed with red energy and only needed a single rune strengthened as a precaution. They moved on quickly to make the trek to the last crystal.

The sun had started to dip down by the time they made it to the West stone altar. Immediately as they passed through the circle of trees and gnarled roots, Salazar started to curse colourfully in parseltongue. The stone, which should have been aglow with blue energy, lay in pieces and the area felt dead. “This is deliberate spellwork!” He announced unnecessarily. “The wards themselves are powerful enough to withstand attack for a time, but without every single cardinal stone entirely functional they will fail given enough time! Too little time!” He turned to William. “He planned it. He had to have. The Dark Lord, whether he destroyed it or had one of his little minions do it, he caused this destruction!” The spellwork was recent, give or take a few years. Hogwarts was important in many ways, a stronghold. The Dark Lord would have known this. It agitated Salazar to know that the man had destroyed one of the things he had worked so hard to build and he would be damned if the man completely destroyed his school!

Salazar took a calming breath. “We will need to repair this,” he said grimly as he sheathed his wand. “Come. We need to discuss this with the headmaster.” He left the clearing with a quick stride that left William to hurry after him. He had not said a word, his brow creased with his own worry. The two wizards made their way quickly towards the castle, both quiet and in their own thoughts.

Once they arrived at the Great Hall, Salazar pushed open the doors and strode up to the staff table where Dumbledore was eating his evening meal. The students whispered at Salazar and William’s appearance, but both ignored them as Salazar requested an urgent audience with the Headmaster in his office. Dumbledore agreed, worried by the grim expressions that both men wore. It was only once they were in Dumbledore’s office that Salazar became more visibly agitated. The repair of the crystal was an absolute priority. After he had refused a seat, the wizard launched into an explanation and a description of the West stone. By the time he was finished Dumbledore looked extremely grim as well, though not entirely surprised. “Tom was always intelligent and always with a plan that was several steps ahead. What do you propose?”

Salazar frowned deeply and looked over to William. Whatever was said, it might be better to be spoken from William’s lips. The Headmaster might be more likely to take him face value and not push back against the necessity of a ritual. William glanced at the black haired wizard before he sighed and took over for the moment. “The crystal itself needs to be replaced,” he stressed carefully. “There is no way to salvage what is left. Even if there was a large enough chunk, it is still safer to use a completely new crystal. So since it is the West stone, we need to find a crystal associated with water. The best time to replace the stone would be to do it during the autumn at sunset on the day of a waning moon. It is the most ideal time and it would need to have the runic web transferred to it during a ritual.”

With a nod, Salazar tugged on the end of one of his braids. “We are lucky enough that the Equinox is upon us near the end of the month.” He was thoughtful for a moment before he looked quickly at William. “The Equinox takes place during the waning moon. It would be the strongest time to replace the West stone. We will need to find a proper crystal and prepare the ritual, but it should be possible. In this regard we are extremely lucky.” He turned back towards the Headmaster. “I would suggest using raw Selenite, unpolished. That may be the hardest to obtain as we will need a sizeable chunk. Everything else we should be able to obtain easily enough.”

Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of him, his expression somber. Finally, he gave a nod and leaned back in his chair. Baby Fawkes crooned pitifully from a little pot on the old man’s desk. “I will worry about finding the selenite,” he told them. “Have the rest of the ritual prepared quietly. Let us keep this amongst ourselves for the time being,” he told them. “Everyone is worried enough without this being put on their shoulders. You say the wards should hold for now at least?” He was given an affirmative, so Dumbledore dismissed them so he could compose a few letters.

With the dismissal, Salazar and William left the office to head back down to the ward stone. They needed to finish copying the rune web so they could fix the ward stone as well as correctly integrate the new West stone. Neither of them remembered dinner as they dove back into the copying, working well into the night to finish. They parted quietly with copies of each other's notes to their own chambers, but neither slept much that night.

Salazar worked to translate his parselrunes while William began to translate the other rune webs. The next morning, both low on sleep, they met up in the library to compare notes. Dumbledore had announced that morning at breakfast that Monday classes had been suspended in wake of what had happened at the Ministry over the weekend. So Salazar and William took the opportunity to find a quiet nook of the library. They had their notes spread out around them with numerous books by the time a small number of students trickled through to finish procrastinated homework. A house elf had brought them lunch at some point, to Madame Pince’s ire, but it was largely ignored. No one dared to interrupt them.

By the time that dinner rolled around, they had finally managed to map out the entirety of the rune web. That was only the first step. Now they knew where different layers were entwined and could be easily fixed. They would be able to add their own layers as well to combine everything together and make it more stable. Their problem was that the West stone needed to be replaced first before they could make any changes at all. Their earlier plan of updating the newer wards was put on hold as the missing cardinal stone would make the whole matrix too unstable to attempt any changes. It would survive in its current state for now, but any prolonged attack would destroy it. That said, it would be a nerve wracking waiting game. If they could not get the selenite in time, they would have to wait for the next waning moon and the ward update would need to be pushed back even further. Who knew when Riddle may decide to attack? The wards needed to be strengthened as soon as possible.

Salazar dropped his quill and sighed. “I have classes tomorrow that I need to prepare for,” he murmured tiredly. He really needed a good night of sleep as well. “I have class for each block period,” he told William. “As soon as my class lets out, I can meet you back here to help piece together the proper ritual we will need to do to replace the West stone.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. He stood up then and started to gather his copy of the notes they had made. He would likely go over them again at some point, but he really did need to prepare for his upcoming classes the next day. “I shall take my leave then, Mister Weasley.” He gave a polite nod to the man before exiting the library with his books in hand.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

Salazar dropped his quill and sighed. “I have classes tomorrow that I need to prepare for,” he murmured tiredly. He really needed a good night of sleep as well. “I have class for each block period,” he told William. “As soon as my class lets out, I can meet you back here to help piece together the proper ritual we will need to do to replace the West stone.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. He stood up then and started to gather his copy of the notes they had made. He would likely go over them again at some point, but he really did need to prepare for his upcoming classes the next day. “I shall take my leave then, Mister Weasley.” He gave a polite nod to the man before exiting the library with his books in hand.

Chapter Eight

Tuesday morning. If he were so inclined towards such nonsense, he would call it the bane of his current existence. But he was not, so Salazar merely rolled out of bed with a token grumble before he got ready for the day. Once ready, he travelled through the quiet halls until he thankfully made it to the Great Hall in peace. Once seated, he found a mug set in front of him by one of the twins who had appeared on either side of him. “Coffee. Couldn’t get through the day without it,” they declared exuberantly.

Salazar sniffed delicately at the beverage and found that he rather enjoyed the strong aroma. It was rich and complex. Even just the smell had started to soothe the leftover exhaustion from the little sleep he had had the night before. He had half expected the twins to add in some sort of extra surprise, but there were no bitter scents associated with certain potions so Salazar took a sip. Just as it smelled, the coffee was rich and dark. There was a depth to it that he had not expected and a bitterness. He found this was easy to overlook, he decided, and took another sip. Could have used some milk, but was well enough without. By the time he finished the beverage, Salazar felt like he could actually be ready for the day ahead. As he set the mug back onto the table, he finally turned his gaze on the gaping twins. “What is it?” His tone was irritated, but not as bad as it could have been. He was less likely to snap back at them for anything, though he did not appreciate the way he felt as if had missed some social cue.

“Black. You drank it black… and actually enjoyed it!” They exclaimed at him, but Salazar only raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Most add sugar or cream,” they added, but Salazar decided to ignore them and poured himself another mug. Perhaps another time he would add something to it to take off the bitter edge, but for now the coffee alone was satisfying. Besides, a small part of him enjoyed how he had thrown the twins for a loop. So he sipped at it before he gathered some breakfast food onto his plate to eat. “Why are you even at the staff table?” Salazar asked them as he picked up a piece of bacon. “Have you suddenly become professors?”

The twins recovered after a moment as both scoffed at his questions. “Professors? Nay! We perish the thought!” Both swooned in exaggerated movements as Salazar gave them a deep glare for the attention they attracted. Frederick leaned forward then as they snickered. “Nah, Professor Dumbledore might have words with us later, but we just wanted to bug you. So, ya know, mission accomplished. Sort of.” He eyed the mug of black coffee that Salazar occasionally took a sip from.

Salazar rolled his eyes, but was unable to comment as Dumbledore suddenly stood and made a motion to grab everyone’s attention. While there were likely to still be a few stragglers, most of the students were in the Hall to attend the morning meal. “Forgive me for spoiling your breakfasts, but I need all of you to bring your attention to me and spare me a moment of your time,” he dawdled, but continued with a barely heard sigh. “As you all by now are aware, Voldemort has attacked the Ministry of Magic.” There were gasps and shudders at the use of the Dark Lord’s name, with unease that rippled through the students. The Headmaster held up his hand so the children quieted. “Many of you may have family affected by this,” he continued sadly as he lowered his hand and ran it over his beard. “It is a difficult time, I understand. As such all students are excused from classes again today, as well as tomorrow.”

There were mutters that erupted throughout the Hall as the students reacted in surprise to the announcement so Dumbledore called for their attention again. “Though you will all have this time off of lessons, we ask that each of you meet with their Head of House. Posted in your commonrooms you will find the schedules for when to meet with them, so please be sure to not be late,” he said as he gave them all a kind smile. “One last thing. Starting today most of the sixth floor has been put off limits for repairs. For your own safety, I ask that you all avoid the floor. Spells have been put up to keep out everyone but those involved in the repairs for now.” He clapped his hands once then, his smile kind but his face still appeared as if he had aged over the course of the night. “Now then, enjoy your breakfast and use your days off wisely!”

The Headmaster took his seat then and Salazar immediately leaned in closer. “Why was I not informed of this decision?” He practically hissed, his accent more pronounced in his anger. He felt as if something very important had been kept from him. “I have heard nothing of this. What am I supposed to speak with my students about, Headmaster?” The time off from their lessons likely was to give the Heads enough time to meet with their students, but this was the first that Salazar had heard of it. He wanted answers.

In the face of Salazar’s anger, the Headmaster gave the professor a smile that was supposed to be placating. “Your concern was on the wards, my dear professor. I did not want to place more undo stress upon your shoulders. As the previous Head of House, Severus can speak with each Slytherin student.” His eyes twinkled just a bit, a grandfatherly smile on his lips.

But it did nothing to ease Salazar. “No.” His tone was sharp, though his expression was carefully neutral. “They are my students,” he argued lowly. “Nothing can be done for the wards yet. As such, I can take time from my research to attend to my duties.” His voice was cold and unimpressed.

“The children know Severus. Especially the older years,” the Headmaster said coaxingly as he was not yet willing to concede.

Salazar made a sharp motion with his hand. “You do not know my relationship with my students, Headmaster. And something like this will undermine my position as their Head of House. No, I will do this myself. Not have Professor Snape do it for me.” He had made sure to keep his voice low, but his tone was still just as sharp as the shine of silver in his emerald eyes. “I thank Professor Snape for everything he has done for Slytherin House in the past, but it now falls to me to protect my House. I ask that you do not force Head duties on someone else again, Headmaster.” Salazar kept his voice polite, but his expression was cold.

In the face of the adamant professor, Dumbledore finally inclined his head. “You have my apologies, dear boy. I will send you the packet of details down to your office.” The Headmaster reached into a pocket and produced a small tin. “Lemon drop?” He held out the open tin as if it was a peace offering.

“No, thank you,” Salazar said as he stood. “I must be on my way then. Have a good day, Headmaster.” He turned on his heel then and started for the door. Several students whispered as he passed, as they had noticed the unrest at the staff table, but Salazar paid them no mind. He had work to be done that he was more concerned about. There was the worry about the wards that crowded his mind along with various solutions that may work. Yet there was also worries about his students and how he would help them, help his House as a whole, that vied for their own place in his mind. Yet somehow, he thrived on it. There was some exhaustion, of course, but above all he had never felt more alive. Not in a very long time at least.

As soon as he slipped out of the doors of the Great Hall, the twins flanked either side of him again. “We heard from our dear brother William,” they said as they slipped their arms around Salazar’s waist. The dark haired man sighed in exasperation, but let them be for now. “Need help for the preparations?”

Salazar was silent before he gave a small nod. He could trust the twins enough for this if William had deemed them trustworthy enough to know about the destroyed cardinal stone. “Eight,” he told them quietly. “For the ritual, we will need eight of us. William and I will be there for sure. I will assume that you both will stand in as well. That leaves us with four, but we need four more. This is a delicate matter and cannot be discussed with just anyone. Is there any that you recommend we ask? We need to be able to trust them, but I doubt I need to remind you of that.” He thought about perhaps going to Granger, but it might be best to leave her for a last resort. He would have asked Zabini, but the man was off still on his unknown mission.

“Professor Bathsheba Babbling!” The twins whispered in unison into Salazar’s ears as their proximity made him stiffen. At the twin snickers, he shot them both with an icy glare. They continued on without much pause. “She'll probably be able to be convinced now to help. Our brother Charles, or Charlie, as he would prefer, will make his way here. Normally in Romania with his dragons, but he’s here for the war effort,” their words were thoughtful. “He and Billy boy were always very close. He’s certainly more Grey than dear Ronniekins at any rate.” The two snickered at their own words. Salazar only refrained from an exasperated eye roll.

Salazar glanced at the twins then. “I shall have you speak both with Professor Babbling as well as with your brother Charles.” He stopped outside the blank wall of the commonroom entrance. “That brings us to six possible individuals if they both agree. You know the people here better than I. If you come upon another idea on whomever else to nominate for the ritual, come tell me.” He gave them the orders easily before he frowned as he slipped from their grip. “For myself, I must now worry about whatever plot the Headmaster is scheming on about.” He touched his hand against the cool stone and flared his magic. It opened the entrance without giving away the password. He had to amend the announcement that the Headmaster had posted so his students would actually come to him and not to Snape. Salazar also amended the schedule to give himself another half an hour.

Finished, Salazar made his way to his office. He closed the door behind him and ran his fingers over his face. Now to see what game the Headmaster played at. He strode towards his desk to find the promised packet of parchments. Salazar ignored it for a moment, instead took the time to clear off the wooden surface of a few errant books and scraps of parchment that contained his notes. Once his desk was clear, Salazar finally removed one of the slips of parchment to reveal his copy of the list of appointments. He lightly brushed his fingers over the ink as he counted the names. Slytherin House contained thirty-six students currently with an average of five students per year. All other Houses had, at least, fifty students.

Salazar shook his head with a sigh before he set the parchment aside. His first appointment was a first year named Karigan Ramsey. He needed to go over what exactly they were expected to discuss with each of the students, so he selected another page of parchment. It was rather straightforward in all actuality, but Salazar felt the dull throb of a headache begin behind his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and just breathed for a time even as his mind raced for solutions. If he read between the lines of the document, all he could see was that Dumbledore appeared to operate under the same misguided impression that the families of his House were all Deatheaters or Dark Lord supporters.

All of the Heads had been instructed to offer first council for their students. A great many of them would likely have parents or other family who worked for Ministry Departments. Even if they had not been directly involved with the invasion, it would have far reaching consequences. They were there to assure the students and offer any counselling the students needed. Grief counselling as the Headmaster had written it. This was something that Salazar could approve of, but the counselling was not what these appointments were entirely for. Salazar had been specifically instructed to tell a few certain students that their families would be offered refuge at Hogwarts if needed, but they could not discuss it with their fellow students. Salazar was quick to notice that these students were ones who had siblings in other Houses. The Headmaster did not want the news of refuge to reach the Dark Lord just yet.

In some ways, Salazar could understand the old man’s position. But to lump all of his students into one category just because they were Slytherin students? Just because they were Slytherins did not mean that they followed the Dark Lord. In fact, Salazar was willing to believe that there were some Slytherin families that needed refuge more than others. How many wanted to escape the madness of the Dark Lord but could not find allies just because of something that was outside of their control?

Perhaps it was against the Headmaster’s wishes, but Salazar intended to extend the chance of refuge to any who needed it. It would be difficult to work around the Headmaster, but he had an idea. He would need to weigh each conversation, but would not dismiss them all outright like the Headmaster had instructed him. With that promise made to himself, Salazar pulled out a clean sheet of parchment just as a knock sounded on his door and it opened.

“Come in, Miss Ramsey.” Salazar smiled at the small mousey girl that poked her head inside. “Have a seat.” He wrote her name down at the top of his parchment before he watched as she sat delicately on the edge of the chair. Her tiny fingers gripped the edge of her skirt, but her expression was carefully arranged in a blank mask. “How have you enjoyed your classes so far, Miss Ramsey? Any problems you have had?” He started lightly to hopefully put her at ease.

“No, sir. They are fine,” the girl replied. Her response was stiff and offered nothing.

“I am glad to hear that,” Salazar spoke gently before he leaned forward. Children were young, but sometimes it paid to speak with them as if they were adults. Children were more aware of the world than they were sometimes given credit for. The wizard studied the small first year and then gave a little nod. “Of course. Will you allow me to be blunt, Miss Ramsey? How are you dealing with the news of the Ministry?”

The girl, Karigan, stiffened and her fingers clutched tighter at the edge of her skirt. “It is fine, sir,” she responded quietly, but her eyes dropped down to stare at the floor.

Salazar placed his quill down and folded his hands on his desk. “I understand it may be difficult to speak about,” he started as he studied her posture. Finally, he breathed out and frowned a little. “You have a parent in the Ministry.” He made the observation quietly. Finally, Karigan gave a short nod in response. Salazar gave a little smile, though she did not see it. “Is it your mother or your father?”

“My father, sir. He’s an auror,” she told him finally, her voice quiet but full of pride. She still had not lifted her head. “Mother said that he made it home safe from the Ministry attack.” Salazar could hear a ‘but’ in her sentence, but kept silent. He hoped she would open up on her own, but Karigan kept quiet. Something was definitely on her mind, but Salazar did not want to force her to talk about it if she did not want to. Still, he felt like he needed to try.

“It is amazing that he was able to make it home after the attack,” he started out carefully. Especially since Karigan’s father had likely been on the front lines, so to speak. “It speaks to his skill as a wizard. Are you worried for him?”

The girl quickly paled, but shook her head wildly. Instead, she looked up at her professor fearfully and finally breathed out in a rush. “My mother is a muggleborn! What will happen to her, Professor Evans?”

Salazar slowly stood and rounded his desk. He crouched down then to be more on Karigan’s level. “Write to your parents,” he told her gently. “Invite them to Hogwarts. Your mother will find refuge here, as will your father.” Salazar gave her a smile of reassurance. “Your parents are safe. They will be safer here. So, go on, Miss Ramsey. Go send your parents an owl to offer them safety here. If they have questions, let them know that they can send me a letter. If you need anything more, my office is open to you as well.” He held out a hand and helped her to her feet. “Just do me a favour and do not speak about this to your classmates until I have had a chance to speak with everyone. We do not want to cause panic.”

Luckily, Karigan gave a nod. “I promise, sir. Thank you,” she whispered before she ran off. Salazar smiled and returned to his seat. That went well, though she had only been his first appointment. He had a bit of time before his next appointment, so he called for a house elf. When the creature appeared, he breathed out a soft sigh. “Gather a small group of elves and clean out the dungeon suites on the next floor down,” he instructed quietly. “I want them prepared as suitable living quarters for families.” He was quiet as he looked down at the tiny creature. “That is all. And see to it that the Headmaster is not told just yet.” He would cross that hurdle as he came to it, but for now the dungeons were his domain. The dungeon rooms themselves were old cells that had been repurposed at some point in the castle’s past, well after Salazar had disappeared. They would work well though to keep the families of Slytherins away from other families so there was no tension on either side.

Salazar thanked the house elf quietly as he gave him a wobbly nod. “Yes, sir, Professor Evans, sir,” the house elf squeaked and disappeared.

A knock on the door broke Salazar from his thoughts minutes later. “Come in, Mister MacAlister.” The child was another whose parents needed to be invited to the safety of Hogwarts. Rory was the first Slytherin in his family and, though he was a pureblood, Salazar could say with near certainty that the boy’s parents would have had nothing to do with the Dark Lord. He would verify, of course.

As the door opened to admit the first year, the boy gave a little smile and closed the door behind him. “Good morning, Professor Evans, sir,” he greeted as he made his way over to the professor’s desk. He then hopped up onto the chair in front of Salazar’s desk and folded his hands in his lap. He seemed to put on a good face. “Why am I here, Professor?” He asked as he kicked his feet back and forth. Little Rory was a bit more open than his other Slytherin students, and Salazar was sure the boy trusted him to some degree. It would certainly make this easier.

Salazar gave a faint smile, barely an upward twitch of his lips. “First of all, I wanted to know how you are settling in, Mister MacAlister. Have you heard from your parents again?” Rory had not come to him about it again at least.

He watched though as the boy’s face twisted slightly in a grimace and he shook his head. “No, sir. I sent them a letter saying I was proud to be in Slytherin and that doesn’t make me a bad person just as you said. I don’t think they’ve disinherited me, but they never responded,” he said clearly, though he had dropped his eyes to stare at his shoes. It seemed to be a habit of many children.

But Salazar wanted him to stand tall. “You are a good lad. I am proud to have you in my house,” Salazar responded firmly. It made Rory look up in surprise, but he gave a hesitant smile and then nodded his head. Salazar looked him in the eye and returned his smile. “You are not a bad person, Mister MacAlister, just as you said. Magic is all about intent. Just remember that.” Rory seemed to have relaxed again as he gave an eager nod. “Good. Now I want you to write to your parents. If they need protection, Hogwarts is open to your family.”

Rory was quiet for a long moment before he shook his head. “I can tell them, sir, but I don’t think they’ll take up the offer. My family home is one of those really old ones with lots of old wards. If they decided to close up the manor, then I don’t think You-Know-Who can get in that easily. They’d be able to escape before he got in, I think.” He seemed confident, though there was a hint of worry in the twist of his lips.

Salazar made a small note on his parchment before he gave Rory a reassuring smile. “Very good, Mister MacAlister. I am glad to hear that your family will remain safe. We can always dislike certain things that they do, but it often does not stop the love or worry we have for family." Even if ill advised. "I want you to still write to them. Let them know that the offer for refuge will remain open if they ever need it.” Rory nodded seriously, his fingers curled over the edge of the chair. “Now, I only ask that you not discuss this with the other students until I have had a chance to speak to each of them privately, but you can always come to me if you need anything.”

Rory hopped off the chair at the dismissal. “Yes, sir, Professor Evans. Thank you!” As he left, Salazar could only laugh quietly to himself. After the boy’s first couple of days, he was happy to see that Rory seemed to have bounced back from it. It was for children like Rory that Salazar wanted to restore his House’s honour. He smiled as he prepared for his next appointment.

By the end of the day, Salazar had the chance to speak with most of his House. There were a few whose parents Salazar was sure were Deatheaters, given away by the children’s reactions to certain questions. A few of the children had been uncomfortable with the fact, but there had been a few who had been arrogantly proud of it. Salazar made note of which children these were so he could keep an eye on them. Hopefully the Wednesday study sessions would benefit them the most. Though this week's had been cancelled. Salazar had elected to not inform these children to invite their families to the refuge of Hogwarts, but entertained the idea to open up correspondence with these families. If they elected to send their children into the safety of Hogwarts, overseen by a man that everyone always said was the only one the Dark Lord ever feared, Salazar had to wonder how many of them looked for a way out.

They were barely into the second week and already things were so off the course. With a sigh, Salazar rolled up the parchment he had taken notes on. Many of those who had been invited, the children said their ancestral homes would provide enough protections should Voldemort decide to actively move against them. Salazar had advised them to tell their parents to not go out unless absolutely necessary, to use house elves to fetch needed things. They were to offer a place at Hogwarts still, just in case their homes ever became compromised. In the end, only a small handful of students thought their families might accept the offer of asylum. Salazar was not surprised.

There were still some students he needed to speak with, but that would be tomorrow. For now, Salazar had research to be done so he instructed a house elf to bring him his evening meal to his quarters. He then cleared off his desk before he headed to the table where his requested meal waited. He had barely sat down with his notes and his meal when there was a commotion outside his door. He had been about to invite William to come join him, but he could already hear muffled voices outside his door. With one distinctly feminine in tone, Salazar knew it was not William to have sought him out. With an exasperated sigh, the black haired man called a house elf to send a message to William. He apologized, but something had come up and he might not be able to meet with him about the wards. He would send a message again as long as it was not too late once he had taken care of this distraction.

With that taken care of, Salazar stood and walked over to his door. He pulled it open only to have Granger suddenly fall backwards into his office. She had obviously leaned against the door. Twin cackles announced the presence of Frederick and George as Salazar reached down to help Granger to her feet. He levelled an unimpressed stare on the twins. “Harassing her, were you?” He drawled slowly as he reached almost absently for his wand. It was a threat without actually arming himself. The twins recognized it loud and clear.

“Sorry!” They echoed each other as they bowed rather exaggeratedly. Salazar gave them a strange look before he gave in and just rolled his eyes as he invited them in. He called for a house elf to bring some more food and cleared away the rest of his notes for now with a flick of his wand.

Once they were all settled around the table, which he had expanded to fit them all, Granger picked up her fork. “I wanted to talk about the book you lent me,” she stated as she speared one of her roasted potatoes. Salazar gave a nod. He had already expected it, though he wondered why the twins were there. But, when Granger glanced over at the twins with an unsure look, Salazar realized they had shown up on their own. He rolled his eyes at the twins’ antics, but gave Granger a reassuring nod. It was safe to speak of this in front of the twins.

At Salazar’s unspoken permission, Granger gave an excited grin. “The book was absolutely fascinating,” she gushed. “Of course, I did some research of my own but the literature you gave me was positively enlightening!” She appeared very passionate, much to Salazar’s amusement. “Slytherin and Gryffindor wrote it, didn’t they? There was a mention of it,” Granger continued, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth.

Salazar gave a nod. “They did, yes.”

“Where did you even get this?” Granger breathed out almost in reverence. Salazar ignored the looks that Frederick and George had not too secretly aimed his way.

As he picked up his drink, Salazar thought over his question. “You were here when I first arrived, yes? I mentioned that I grew up on an old estate in the fens. One of the prized possessions of the estate was a series of journals by Salazar Slytherin. It was rumoured that Slytherin was from the fens, so I believe my family’s estate had once been adjacent to Slytherin’s. They might have even been caretakers once upon a time.” It had been true. He had owned an unplottable piece of land in the fens and there had been a family nearby that he had tasked as overseers. He might have to visit the place sometime. He brushed the thoughts away. “The journals mostly contained Slytherin’s work on potions. It is where I learned my love of potions and learned most of what I know. However, he did add in little anecdotes about the other founders and other little pieces of his life. One of the journals, too, was the one I lent to you.”

Granger’s eyes were wide. “Tell me more,” she breathed out.

Salazar could not help but chuckle, a little charmed by Granger’s eagerness. He decided to indulge her somewhat. “Helga Hufflepuff was a pureblood witch. Her name is Norse in origin as her father’s line was Norse. She was the one to originally introduce the others to the Northman’s culture, though she had not been truly raised in it.” It hurt a little to speak about his old friends, but he felt a little disconnected from them as he spoke about them this way. It helped. “Both Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw are names that are Anglo-Saxon in origin. Ravenclaw came from a pureblooded family. It was her family that originally owned the land that Hogwarts was built on as her father’s family was Scottish. When they built Hogwarts, she petitioned her father for the deed to the land and it was given to all four of them. Traditionally, women would not have been able to own assets such as the land, but Ravenclaw’s father allowed it as it was also in Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s names.” They almost had not been able to get rights to the land because of it.

Quiet for a moment then, Salazar took a sip of his mead. “Gryffindor was born to a mundane family. He was raised with Celtic Christianity, a movement based on the teachings of Pelagius. His teachings were thought of as heretical to the Church at the time but, incredibly, it provided an easy transition into polytheism for Gryffindor as many of Pelagius’ teachings cleverly hid roots in the old religions. He had moved away from his family’s religion by the time he became friends with the others, but was curious by what the wizarding world had to offer once he was introduced to it.” He paused to eat a few bites of his dinner, but Granger thankfully did not seem to mind. She took the opportunity to quickly eat some of her food as well.

After a sip of his mead, Salazar cleared his throat. What else could he say? “Slytherin did not speak much of himself, just mentioned a brother he had adopted. However, he enjoyed his languages. It was especially needed with the wide range of students they pulled in for the school. Not all of the children spoke Scottish Gaelic, after all. From what I could gather, the founders might have also known Latin along with Old Norse and even Old English. After all, though Hogwarts is located here in Northern Scotland, they would have likely had students from wizarding communities from farther south where Old English would have been spoken.”

“Really?” Granger said with a surprised look on her face. “I mean I never really thought of that before now. But you would definitely be right! Never really seemed important to know, I suppose.”

Salazar chuckled in response. “I believe the founders might have spoken many languages, at the very least conversationally in order to converse with some of their students. Middle English, which is most recognizable to modern English, did not appear until around 1070. Hogwarts was built around 990, nearly eighty years before. Many other languages likely would have been spoken by the students.” He had done his research in preparation to add depth to what he already knew. Still, he privately could not understand why it did not answer how he came upon Godric already knowing a language not yet introduced. He tried not to ponder on it. At least not in that moment.

“So fascinating. Makes me curious though,” Granger suddenly said as she popped a piece of ham into her mouth. She swallowed before she continued. “I mean, the school is called Hogwarts. It’s a rather English name, so I just assumed…” She had the grace to flush before she cleared her throat. “But with that thought, it makes me wonder if Hogwarts is the original name or a translation gone wrong?” She seemed excited at the idea. “I mean, honestly, who names a school Hogwarts?”

The twins nearly choked on their pumpkin juice in their laughter. Salazar decided it was best not to say anything in response to them. No, it was not a bad translation and it was Godric who dared come up with the idea. He really did not know what had possessed the man to do such a thing. Or why the others went along with the name. Unfortunately, Salazar had contributed however unwillingly. Godric had asked for a translation for riosan-muc into the language Salazar had spoken when they first met. Without context for such a question, Salazar had gone along with it. Hog warts.

Salazar pressed his lips together briefly before he let out a sigh. “In one of the journals, Slytherin mentions that Ravenclaw had a dream where she dreamt of a warty hog that led her to a high cliff that overlooked a loch and where a broch stood. The broch was the original structure that became the foundation for the school. Gryffindor decided he liked the symbolism of the dream. Slytherin wrote how very much against the idea he was. But, the name stuck and everyone knows it as Hogwarts. And that is what it will likely stay for years to come.” He sighed then. “However, I believe that we have deviated from the original topic. You had wanted to discuss what you had read?” Salazar said with an amused quirk of his lips. “Did you have any specific questions, Professor Granger?”

Granger set down her goblet after having taken a sip while Salazar spoke. “Oh, none of that professor business,” she said first before she took a breath. “And yes, you’re right. I do have some questions.” She licked her lips and hesitated a little. Finally, she breathed out slowly and nodded. “Right. I guess, the first thing I want to ask is do these Gods the book mentions actually exist? I mean, it sounds horrible to state it like that and I know you said that the Gods had taught humans how to use magic, but well…” She trailed off, seemingly unsure of what she was trying to ask.

Salazar smiled as he pondered how to answer her question. “You remember what I said about how we were taught magic,” he commented first.

Granger nibbled on her lower lip. “Each culture and old religion had their own Gods or Goddesses who were said to teach the people magic. Circe, Hecate, Isis, Freyja, Ceridwen… just to name a few of the more well known ones. Do they each actually exist? Or are they simply the names for one unexplained entity? What I mean is… We logically know that magic exists as we experience it every day. However, are the Gods just names that we gave to explain magic?”

Salazar nodded. “It is a valid question.” He had not thought to address it in the journal since it had not been necessary at the time. It was simply understood that the Gods existed and that was not a question. But he had touched on some modern research when he had been curious about how the modern world viewed religion. The mundanes too had some surprisingly interesting ideas. “Well, let us approach this logically,” he said. They could spend hours debating this, but he wanted to keep it simple.

Salazar picked up his mead and took a sip. He then smiled at Granger. “We both agree that the world has magic and it has universal rules that must be followed,” he stated first. Granger nodded. “We can also both agree that each ancient culture had different ways in which they performed magic, yes? There can be similar aspects because of the universal nature of what magic is, but mostly the ancient cultures each had their own unique expressions of how they used that power.” Granger slowly nodded, though her brow was furrowed. “Can you tell me how the Greeks practiced their magic?”

Granger hesitated before she gave a slow nod. “They were especially known for their spells and curse prayers that were known as epoidai, curse tablets known as katadesmoi, their potions and poisons called pharmaka, amulets called periapta, and powerful love potions that had their own name. Which was philtra.”

Salazar had to admire just how bright her mind was. She reminded him of Rowena in some ways. “Very good. Do you know anything of Mesopotamian magic?” It was one he had only learned about recently from mundane sources. He appreciated their love for ancient cultures and the study of them.

“Mesopotamian magic?” Granger murmured and then gave a slow nod. “I don’t know a lot, but I’ve heard a little. Most of their magic was worked exclusively through rituals. They had what is known as liminal magic where the subject is transformed. One of the very first examples of Transfiguration, actually. They had defensive rituals too that removed and repelled evils against the person the ritual was for.” She paused, her expression said that she thought had over her answers. “There were rituals to give the subject things like strength, attractiveness, and superiority.” She paused briefly. “They had magic they outlawed but knew about that was used to curse.”

Salazar smiled in response. “Yes, good. Magic in the Northmen’s culture was known as seiðr and was first related to both the telling and the shaping of the future. Later, when Odinn taught them the runes, the power of these was incorporated into their magic. So, we can see that the ancient peoples all had their own ways they knew how to use magic. And they all have tales of how this magic was taught to them, they all have tales of the Gods and how they interacted with ancient people.” He paused and smiled a little wider. “Also, there are still modern tales of how the Gods interact with their followers. What does that tell us?” Granger opened her mouth, but Salazar spoke once more first. “What does it tell us if we use the logic of Occam’s Razor?”

It threw her for a loop. Granger’s mouth closed with a snap and she frowned a bit. “Occam’s Razor,” she murmured. “It’s the idea that when trying to understand something, it is best to use the simplest parameters to come to a conclusion. Has its own fallacies, but the logic is sound enough.”

“Hold up, what does that mean? Occam’s razor?” The twins interrupted. They had been following the conversation, but looked now like they had been left behind a little.

Salazar chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “Imagine this scenario. You are in the Forbidden Forest and you hear footbeats behind you. It is a centaur? Or is it a horse? Now, it could be that a spell has gotten out of the control of a practicing student and it is a horse. Or, as the forest is home to a herd of centaurs, it is a centaur. If we use Occam’s razor, the logical answer would be that it is a centaur because it is the simpler answer. Could be the horse, but probably not.”

“Right, so how does that have to do with whether or not the Gods exist?”

At the question, Salazar looked over to Granger. “Want to answer that?”

Granger gave a serious nod and she took a deep breath. “The two conclusions we can come to are that the Gods exist and that the Gods do not exist. Either the ancient cultures all had these unique ways they learned magic and they experienced the Gods - still experience the Gods - so the Gods exist. Or, the ancient cultures had all these unique ways they knew magic and had experiences of the Gods, but the Gods do not actually exist. It would be harder to explain how they had all these experiences but the Gods did not exist, so the simple explanation would be that the Gods do actually exist.”

“Makes sense,” the twins chirped. “Besides, ‘Mione, you never actually thought magical creatures existed before you realized you were a witch, right? Things can exist even if not everyone believes that they do.” They gave her wide grins. “We honour Loki in particular.”

Granger blushed. “I see your point,” she said quietly before she rolled her eyes then. “And of course Loki would be who you chose.” Frederick and George now gave her unrepentant grins.

It was with a shake of her head that Granger let it go. Instead, she bit her lower lip and looked back over to Salazar. “What does it feel like?” She asked quietly. “If we accept that the Gods exist, how does it feel to be in the presence of them?”

Salazar was quiet for a moment as he thought over the question. “The feeling is not one easily described,” he said quietly. “Often, it is different for everyone and must be experienced firsthand to really put a name to it. Some feel it in nature, feel them subtly. Others will have visits in their dreams. It can be the little things that you miss if you do not pay attention.” He gave Granger an encouraging smile. “I introduced the Gods to you because it is such an integral part of our history. I feel like they should be honoured, but I would never want to force anyone to believe anything. I can try to tell you what I feel, but if you feel this is something you want to pursue, then I encourage you to do your own research. There are written stories of various Gods in the Restricted Section of the library. Resources from mages long ago brought in from all over the world.” Put there, no doubt, by a past Headmaster who sympathized with the Christian raised mundane borns.

“Find the one that most speaks to you. When you have done this, come find me and I can try to answer whatever questions you might have. Until then, you are more than welcome to sit in and observe rituals or feasts.” He tore off a chunk of his bread. He had tried to eat his meal in the moments he could, though he had done more talking than he had eaten his dinner. “Though there was no standardized calendar of feasts in ancient times, the Founders attempted to create one for the school based upon the beliefs they had gathered. It is one I follow as well and the next feast actually comes upon us on September the 23rd, where day and night are of equal length. It marks the end of the harvest.”

The woman gave a nod before she stabbed at a piece of meat. “I’m not really sure of the politeness of it, but Fred and George mentioned that they honour Loki. Do you have a god that you honour like that?”

Salazar did not respond right away as he savoured some of his food first. Finally, he dabbed at his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Some honour more than one god. Some honour one above all. And there are some who honour all equally.” He laid down his napkin and then picked up his goblet. “While I do not ignore all others for one, I do have two that I feel closest too. Feasts I will often offer to the gods associated with the seasons and I will make offerings to other gods when appropriate, but I have developed a connection with both Odinn Alfather and Tyr. It took some time for me to answer their calls, but I created a cycle of reciprocity with both of them in time.” He called a house elf then to clean up from their meal.

“Cycle of reciprocity?” Granger repeated curiously.

“Do ut des,” Salazar said as he leaned back in his seat. “The translation from Latin would be something like ‘I give so that you might give’. Our relationships with the Gods should not be a demanding one. If we demand their gifts, then why should they give them or let us keep them? So, the cycle of reciprocity is the act of offering to the Gods, the building of a relationship. It is in the hopes that we can maintain a reciprocal relationship by offering gifts of our own so they may bless us in some way. Yet, at the same time, gifts are not based upon some sort of balance. In return for such gifts we continue our devotion and offerings. In some ways, it is like a friendship. We give what we can, but we do not give because we expect something in return.” He knew he was rambling as it was not always an easy concept to explain, but rather one that was more intuitively felt. Still, understanding seemed to light in her eyes as Granger gave a nod.

But her attention was stolen by the house elves that appeared to take away their dishes. Salazar noticed the odd look towards the little creature and gave a small quirk of his lips. “Did you know that house elves are believed to have been created by Vesta, a Roman Goddess? House elves were introduced to Briton by Roman wizards during the Roman conquest.” He paused to sip at his refilled goblet. “House elves were created to attend to the hearth and later evolved into caring for the home as well. They are not slaves and draw their power from the bonds they form with wizards.”

“But they are mistreated in many pureblood homes!” Granger looked incensed. It made Salazar frown in confusion now, his mood sobered.

“Elves are bound by loyalty to their wizard families,” he said carefully. “That same bond should not allow mistreatment, unless the magic has been tampered with over the years.” He hoped not, but after everything he had already experienced in this time he had a sudden pit of anxiety that developed in his stomach.

Granger opened her mouth to argue, but the twins butted in. “Most purebloods cannot physically harm their elves themselves. Elves will punish themselves if they think it’s necessary. It’s something that seems to be conditioned into many of them. Nothing stops a house elf from punishing themselves and their master don’t even have to touch them.”

Salazar did not look pleased. “So they found a loophole then.” He shook his head. “There is nothing to be done at the moment as there are more prominent evils that must be taken care of first.” Granger pressed her lips tightly together, but then let it go for now. He understood the feeling.

“Does every ritual have a purpose?” Granger suddenly blurted out in an attempt to change the subject to something else. She still had her questions anyways. “Some of them seem so simple. Some of them complex. Some don’t even make any sense to me.”

Salazar blinked, surprised by the change of subject, before he chuckled. “Everything has a purpose. Herbs, stones, colours, libation. Everything.” He was silent for a moment. “Let us put it this way. If magic is all about intent, why does the movements of the wand matter and the way we pronounce the words? Take, for example, the Levitation charm. It is Wingardium Levi-o-sa, not Levio-sa. One will produce the charm, the other will not. Why is that?”

Granger gave him a strange look from a moment before her expression turned thoughtful. “It’s Randlewood’s Second Law of Spellcrafting. Words and names have power. You have to say the correct words of the spell to gather the magic and direct in the way you want it. Wand movement is what allows the attachment of the magic so to speak, also causing stability and control. Of course, aiming is also important to get the spell where you want it. Wand movement used to be called spell-weaving.”

“Correct,” Salazar agreed with a nod, though he was amused by her propensity to go off into depth of every little thing. He was honestly the same so he couldn't tease her for it. “Rituals work under the same principles, just more complex. Especially since results are not always as concrete as levitating a feather. Still, the basics are the same.” He tilted his head slightly as a small smile curled his lips. “It is also what can make some rituals so dangerous. If every detail is not done correctly, the built up magic needs a place to go but it has no direction.”

The young woman brightened. “Fergal’s Law! Magic always needs an outlet,” she spoke with emphasis.

Salazar inclined his head. “Exactly.” It was why many wizards, at least in his era, tended to wear pendants or necklaces with various gemstones that were capable of absorbing at least some of the backlash of energy from a failed ritual. Some of the more complex stones could even protect against minor spells with the same principle. It gave the wizards a greater chance to survive the backlash depending upon what the original ritual had been designed to do. "Now, there is a caveat here, however. Everything has a purpose within a ritual. Magic rituals must be exact with the correct ingredients. As for a religious ritual, rules are not so straightforward. Often times, things will have meaning to them that only make sense to that individual. They can be similar between different people, but they are not always the exact same. But that is okay, because it is our intent that is most important. As well as what our personal experiences with the Gods have taught us."

“Will you explain one to me?” Granger’s asked next, her voice eager. “A ritual for the Gods, that is.”

Quiet for for a moment, Salazar regarded her question before he stood. “Instead, I shall show you,” he decided. “It is just a simple offering. It does not have to be anything over the top.” With a flick of his wrist, he had his wand in his hand. A circular movement and long incantation later, the far wall shimmered and disappeared to show further room behind. An altar table of rich wood stood against the wall, a simple linen cloth spread out over the surface.

Salazar invited Granger over to be closer, though the twins stayed where they were to watch from a distance. “This is my altar,” he told her. “Everyone’s altar is different. You can have figurines, or other pieces that remind you of who the altar is devoted to. There are no requirements. Use what speaks to you.” He gave her a small smile. “For the altar I have put together, I have placed a simple figurine of Odinn that was carved from the ash tree because it is sacred to him. I also have a figurine of Tyr here,” he pointed out the two statues. These pieces he had personally crafted not long ago.

He picked up a bowl then. “In here are the Nine Sacred Herbs because I am a potionmaker and it makes me feel connected to Odinn. ‘These nine attack against nine venoms. A wyrm came creeping and tore asunder man. Then took Odinn nine magic twigs and smote the serpent that he in nine pieces dispersed. Now these nine herbs have power against nine magical outcasts, against nine venoms, against nine flything things, against the loathed things that over land rove’,” he quoted. “Disease was believed to be spread by toxins in the wind. These were said to protect against these toxins along with songs, water, and salt. The herbs themselves are mugwart, plantian, watercress, betony, camomile, nettle, crab apple, chervil, and fennel.” He set the bowl back down. “From clay I crafted these runes. Ansuz, Wunjo, Gebo, and Othala as Odinn was the first to learn the runes. Ansuz is Odinn’s own rune.” He motioned then to a small crude wooden spear that rested next to a miniature shield. "Tiwaz is engraved upon the shaft, for Tyr."

Salazar turned then and walked over to a small cupboard. As he opened it up, he glanced over his shoulder to Granger. “Northmen would hold a sacrifice called a blόt. It was often a public ritual shared by all. When I make my daily offerings, I will often hold a private blόt in essence. The verb blόta means to worship with sacrifice. Quite often, animals would be sacrificed and a great meal would follow as the sacrificed animal was consumed. As this is a personal blót, I do not have to do anything too elaborate. This is an offering, not a magical ritual. For the simple offerings like this, I find that water or mead are good choices. Water especially, though any drink will really do. Grains and small cakes are also good. They are universally accepted offerings.”

Salazar conjured a wooden table to set down what he had selected. For this one, he had opted for mead and some small cakes made from a simple recipe he had baked himself. Turning to Granger then, Salazar offered a little smile. “I will start now. I just ask that you remain silent as you watch and do not interfere.” He did not think she would, but he wanted to be able to concentrate. When she nodded, Salazar turned back around. “Normally I say these in Norse, but I will say them in English for your benefit,” he told her before he began.

Salazar used his wand to light the candle that he had on the altar. He took a deep breath then and shut out everything else. “Odinn, All-Father, Master of the Tree. You who are brilliant in your battle-glory, yet gentle in your guiding. You who gave us the runes. You are known by many names and the paths to you are many. But I bring hail to them all, that may these words please you, oh Odinn, and may you bestow upon me the grace of your blessing. Tyr, Lord of Justice, World-weary Protector. You who are burdened by the balance of Justice within the world. The paths to you are many. But I bring hail to them all, that may these words please you, oh Tyr, and may you bestow upon me the grace of your blessing.” He picked up the pitcher of mead and one of the little cakes he had made. “Before thee I bring both mead and grain cake in hopes that they might be accepted by you for feasting.” He stepped forward and poured the mead into the goblet. He set the empty pitcher aside and then grabbed the grain cake. He set it down in the little offering bowl on the altar. “From the gods, to the earth, to us. From us, to the earth, to the gods. A gift has been given, so may it be well received.” He smiled and closed his eyes. “Hail to Odinn. Hail to Tyr.”

Salazar stepped back and breathed in deeply, a smile curling his lips and his expression peaceful. He opened his eyes to look down at his altar. Though there was no wind in the dungeon room, the flame flickered and then went out. His smile widened.

“That was so beautiful,” Granger managed to breathe out once the ritual had ended, startling Salazar out of his moment. He had forgotten that the others were there, but Granger didn’t seem to notice as she continued to prattle on. “Thank you so much for this, Herrick! You have given me so much to think about!” She surged forward and gave Salazar a hug before he could protest. And then, like a whirlwind, she was making her way out the door with an almost absentminded farewell.

In the sudden silence of the room, the twins burst out into laughter. “You have a soft spot for her, sharing something so personal!” They teased him, but Salazar only stared at the door in astonishment for a moment. He ignored the twins as he shook his head and used his wand to hide his altar from view again. He would take care of the offering later once he was alone again as it was not good to let it sit out until it rotted.

As he replaced his wand back into its holster, Salazar returned to his seat and sat down. “Have you put more thought into who else we can invite for the ritual?” He asked George and Frederick once they had calmed down from their laughter.

While they still both chuckled, the two nodded their heads. “We talked to Billy boy,” George started out. “He has told us that his friend Lugh Ceallaigh will be seeking refuge at Hogwarts. Lugh is a coworker and is to be trusted,” Frederick finished. “We only need one more!” They finished in unison.

Salazar picked up his goblet and gave a nod. “The name Ceallaigh. I have a student with that name. An Eleanora Ceallaigh.”

“Her older brother is Lugh! Was Slytherin too,” they shot back with a grin. Salazar repressed a smile. It was always an adventure with Frederick and George.

“Of course,” Salazar murmured instead as he took a sip of his mead. “We still, however, need one more.” There was still some time to figure it out, but they still had supplies they needed to get together. “For the West stone, the Headmaster is procuring us a Selenite crystal. However, there are herbs and other supplies that need to be found. I can take care of the herbs for the purification bath that all of us shall need to take before the ritual.” The herbs for the baths would need to include lavender, rosemary, peppermint, sage, and valerian root. All easily available.

Salazar looked at the twins. “I would like to task you to find the ritual knives we will need. Each one must contain different water associated stones. No two can be the same. Can you handle that?” As he got their affirmation, Salazar stood. “I appreciate your help. Now, if you do not mind, I wanted to get in some more work before it gets too late. So, I am going to kick you out of my office now.” He gave them a sweet smile that got them moving with salutes. Salazar smirked a bit, but they got him back with hugs as they left out the door. Salazar scowled after them as they left.

Once they were gone, he returned to his altar to carefully dispose of the offerings. They had already been given as offerings, so he poured the mead down the sink and set the cake near the door so he could dispose of it outside. It would be returned to the earth that way. With that taken care of, Salazar returned to go to his desk where he refilled his goblet and pulled out his notes on runework. The rune network needed to be fully mapped out so that it could easily be laid out during the ritual. A lot of it was copied from the other cardinal stone runes, but it had its own unique network as well. Before he got to work though, Salazar called for a house elf. Once the creature appeared, he asked it to seek out William for him and invite him down. He also requested a refill for his mead along with sugared pecans to snack on.

He pulled a sheet of parchment in front of him and pulled out his wand. “Soillseachadh,” he murmured as he traced out the rune Ansuz above the page. Using his wand then, Salazar started to erect a projection of a rune matrix. He started with the basic layer that would anchor the web to the selenite crystal. He carefully wove in parselrunes as well with the knowledge he would have to be the one to inscribe these during the ritual. Just as when he had done it the first time, it was a heavy burden to be placed upon his shoulders as the only one who knew the runes. But it would be easier the second time as he now knew what he was doing.

Just as he finished off the first layer, there was a knock on the door. Salazar stood and went over to open it where he found William with a stack of book in his arms. Salazar eyed the stack of books with amusement and invited the man inside. He motioned to the glowing blue projection that hovered over the parchment still as he approached his desk. “I was mapping out the first few layers,” he told the man. “If you like, you can check my work. I did already add some parselrunes, so I can explain them as you reach them.”

William dropped the books onto the table and looked over the projection with amazement. “This is extraordinary! What is the spell? I’ve seen rune mappings, but this one you can actually manipulate as if it were the real thing!” He reached out to touch, but hand went straight through it.

Salazar held back a smile at William’s enthusiasm. “Using your wand, you can manipulate it,” he instructed the other wizard. “Also, help yourself to the mead and the sugared nuts if you would like any.” He offered the refreshments to William as he glanced through the books that the redhead had brought “The incantation for the projection is Soillseachadh, one of my own creation. The wand movement is the rune Ansuz upon the surface you wish to use to anchor the spell,” he told William as he drew his wand again and showed the other wizard how to manipulate the rune web in the projection.

Once William understood, and he did grasp it quite quickly to Salazar’s relief, the man leaned forward and nudged apart two of the runes to bring a bundle of parselrunes into focus. “What’s the correlations between these? They’re parselrunes.”

Enlarging them, Salazar nodded his head. “They are.” He hissed the runes, though it would not have given William any understanding. “One is fortitude and the other is grounding, the last is a bridging rune to bind it all together and to the rest of the strand. It makes the connections between the Futhark runes stronger without the usual cracks that can happen in expansive wards.” He enlarged another set of runes. “See? The same bundle of runes is in each of the existing connections. I will do the same for the Ogham runes as well, but those I have yet to add to the first layer.”

“Got it. I’ll add in the Ogham then, so do you want to connect them with the parselrunes then?” William etched out one of the Ogham runes. “Iodhadh,” he murmured, nestling it against one of the Futhark clusters. “With… Nion?”

Salazar shook his head. “No, use Fearn first and connect it with Nion.” William etched them out before nodding in agreement. With that done, Salazar connected with bundles with the parselrunes and the pair moved on to quickly finish the first level. William went over it all and corrected a few mistakes, but nodded his head in approval.

Once the first level was done, William poured himself a goblet of the mead and took a sip while Salazar tossed a handful of the pecans into his mouth. “Well, first down,” William said as he set his goblet aside again. “At least we can be satisfied that it’ll bond well with the cardinal stone,” he said with a small snort and a shake of his head. “Think we can map out at least two more layers before we call it a night?” He asked as he also grabbed a handful of the pecans. Once he had tossed them into his mouth, he wiped off his hands and picked up his wand again to weave the base of the next layer. Salazar had only nodded in agreement. “Oh! I wanted you to meet my wife,” William mentioned after a few moments. “I am assuming that Fred and George mentioned Lugh to you. He’s with Fleur, my wife, right now to keep her safe. They’ll be travelling here tomorrow.” He gave a proud grin, though Salazar detected some sadness. “She’s pregnant. I would have recommended her for the ritual, but she can't in her condition. And she couldn’t make the trip with me a few days ago because she wasn’t feeling well. Lugh offered to bring her here when she was better.” He sighed. “What a time to bring a child into the world… I’m happy, I really am. But I’m worried too, you know? I would have preferred we waited, but these things happen.”

Though he was not quite sure why William spoke to him about this, Salazar was silent for a long moment before he sighed and looked over to William. “Wars never end. Mankind has never truly known peace. If we wait for peace, will we ever have children?” He looked away again as he inscribed a few more runes. “And if you think about it, are not children born into peace ill prepared for the violence that will inevitably follow after a time?” Salazar paused to gather his thoughts, but then glanced over to William. “Celebrate the birth of your child and do what you can to protect them. There will always be worry, but do not let it rule you.”

William gave a soft sigh before a warm hand landed on Salazar’s shoulder. The black haired wizard looked over to see the other as he offered a warm smile. “Thank you. I mean it.” He squeezed Salazar’s shoulder before he pulled it away to go back to the task at hand. “But really, I want you to meet Fleur. I think that you will like her.”

“I look forward to it,” Salazar said finally.

Satisfied, William returned to the task at hand. The two worked together until finally, there was an unspoken agreement that they should probably turn in for the night. It was well past midnight and Salazar found that he could barely keep his eyes open. The mead may have had a hand in that, though he was far from drunk. He would have to go over their work in the morning to correct any mistakes they might have made in their exhaustion. “Use the guest room just a door down the hall,” he told William as he cleared away their notes and work. “I doubt very much you are in any better condition than I am and I will not have you becoming lost in the halls of Hogwarts because of your exhaustion. I shall see you in the morn,” he bade William goodnight before he disappeared into his own bedroom.

He had barely laid his head down on his pillow before he was drifting off into sleep. He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his robes.

The next morning, Salazar had some time before breakfast would be available so he went over the work they had done the night before. There were a few mistakes that he spotted that he needed to fix, but it was easy enough. Once it was done, he met up with William and walked down to the Great Hall together for breakfast while they quietly discussed their work. They had not quite reached the Great Hall when they were interrupted by a whirlwind of blue. It only took a moment for Salazar to realize it was a beautiful blond woman that wore a pale blue robe.

“Oh, Bill! I ‘ave missed ‘ou!” The woman had her arms wrapped around William’s neck and appeared to be crying. Salazar quickly came to the conclusion that this was Fleur and her sobbing was quite likely the result of the pregnancy that William had mentioned. Said man looked distinctly uncomfortable, but had wrapped his arms around his wife to soothe her.

From the same direction that Fleur had come, a large man appeared shortly after. This one Salazar did not recognize, though he could hazard a guess that this was Lugh Ceallaigh. He shared the same eyes as his younger sister Eleanora. The stranger greeted him with a polite smile and clear grey eyes that held hidden mischief. “I am Lugh Ceallaigh,” the man offered as he held out his hand. Salazar eye the hand before he slowly reached out to grasp the man’s forearm.

“William has mentioned you,” Salazar greeted. “He tells me that you are a friend. I am Herrick Evans. It is my pleasure.” He let go of Ceallaigh’s hand and glanced over to William with his wife Fleur. His lips curled slightly with amusement before he turned his gaze back towards Ceallaigh. “I will leave you to your greetings. I have an appointment to get to with one of my students shortly, so I would like breakfast first.” He especially wanted the boost of energy that coffee gave him. He would have to thank the twins for introducing him to the beverage. Salazar gave a short bow before he slipped away into the Hall to have his breakfast.

Once he returned to his office he was able to work for a short time on the rune web before sixth year Malcolm Baddock arrived for his appointment. Thankfully, from then, the appointments went smoothly and he had a list of families to potentially prepare for. He had asked his students to let him know what responses they received back from their parents.

With his last appointment over, Salazar was left alone in his office. He had skipped lunch to wait for his last appointment and work on the runes once more, so Salazar ordered his midday meal to be brought to him. With time left in the day where he did not have to worry about classes just yet, Salazar wanted to meet with the others that had been chosen to help with the wards. So, as he ate, he sent out a house elf to invite the others to his office. He had just finished when there was a knock on the door. With a wave of wand, Salazar cleared his dishes and went to go see who was at the door. It was Professor Babbling, a woman he knew in passing from the time before term had started. He could not say he particularly knew her well.

“Professor Babbling. Thank you for coming,” he said as he invited her in. She was a severe looking woman with long dark hair and a pointed nose. Her dark eyes were narrowed in a nearly permanent look of calculation. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Hopefully the others will be here in a moment and I will explain why I have invited you here. I had wished to speak to you before about this, but I have not been able to find the time. I apologize.”

The woman said nothing as she made herself comfortable on a chair near the hearth. Salazar tried not to sigh at the frigid feelings he felt directed towards him. She had declined to work on the wards before now, so she could not be angry she had not been consulted, right? He was very thankful when there was another knock at the door. He opened it to find that everyone else had appeared at once. He commented on it flatly, but invited them all in. The twins marched through his door first, arm in arm, before they took the couch for themselves. Lugh gave an apologetic nod of his head and thanked Salazar for the invitation as he found another chair to take a seat in. William came after him, though he paused to turn to another redhead that had appeared behind him in the doorway. “Herrick, I want you to meet my brother Charlie,” he introduced.

The man gave a lopsided grin and held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you! I just got in, just as the house elf brought your invitation, which is why we’re so late.” Salazar shook the man’s hand briefly, feeling rather smothered by the gathering of redheads. He gave a sharp nod and then invited the men to find seats for themselves.

Once they had all settled, Salazar took his place in front of the hearth. With all of these individuals in his office, he felt boxed in and too uncomfortable to take a seat of his own as if it would prevent escape if he needed it. So he remained standing as he called for their attention. “I want to thank you all again for coming,” he started as he spread out his hands. “I know some of you are already aware of what will be said here, but I wanted to start from the beginning so everyone is on the same page.” He paused though in the next moment and shook his head. “Actually, first I would like an oath from all of you that what is discussed here may not be spoken to anyone else outside those gathered. It is of the utmost importance that this does not get back to the Dark Lord.”

The Weasleys were all quick to give an oath and Lugh regarded Salazar silently at first, but he nodded and gave his oath as well. Professor Babbling was the last to give her oath, a shrewd expression on her face as she weighed her options. But she gave in and swore not to speak about what was discussed. Satisfied, Salazar inclined his head and gave an oath as well. “Thank you. The oath is not binding in the way a Vow is, but I hope it eases all our fears that this will get back to the Dark Lord. After all, with what has happened at the Ministry, Hogwarts is one of the last true places of refuge in the British Isles. We are all aware that the Headmaster has decided that he will open the door to those who are in need of shelter. However, in order to ensure the safety of those in these walls, William and I have been strengthening the wards.”

The man sighed then and folded his hands behind his back to steady them. “What we found was that the West cardinal stone has been deliberately destroyed.” He paused here to let this information sink in with those who were not aware. Professor Babbling looked particularly angry with the way her eyes darkened. “I want to reassure you that while this is the bad news, we have luck on our side. The best time to replace the cardinal stone is coming upon us during the Autumn Equinox. For the ritual, we need eight individuals for each of the eight layers of runes that must be laid. Though we are still short one, all of you have been deemed trustworthy enough to take on this heavy responsibility.”

It was then that Professor Babbling interrupted. “I knew you men were looking at the wards, but I was not aware that there were any problems. Why was I not informed?” She practically hissed the question. “I am the Ancient Runes professor after all and have my Mastery in Runes. I should have been notified right away.”

Salazar turned his gaze towards the woman and met her eyes unflinchingly. He could have called her out on her refusal to work on the wards before, but instead said, “We did not want the problem to be made known until absolutely necessary. I am extremely well versed in Runes and wards while William is a cursebreaker. We are both well equipped to deal with the problem. You have been made aware as your knowledge is now necessary for the ritual.” He paused briefly. He nearly did not want to admit to what he said next, but knew that they would have to learn about it sooner or later.

“I am a parselmouth,” he spoke confidently as he knew that Babbling could not speak easily without consequences about this admission. “As Salazar Slytherin was a Speaker, he included parselrunes into the castle’s wards. My ability is not something I want made known, as you can imagine. I have no ties to the Dark Lord and I do not want it to be assumed that I do.”

Though Babbling gave him a dark look, Salazar continued. “On the Equinox, at sunset, the ritual will need to be performed. The supplies are already taken care of, but each of you will need to learn the rune sequence that William and I are constructing. We hope to have a basic map planned out soon, which will then be passed on to you to memorize. We will only have one chance at this, so I ask that you take this seriously.” He eyed Frederick and George while he said then, but then walked over to his desk. Salazar grabbed the paper that William and he had worked on the night before. He set it down on the table in front of everyone and activated it so the others could see. “As I mentioned, there will be eight layers. We each will be assigned a layer, though I will take on the extra responsibility of memorizing all layers so that I can add the parselrunes where they are needed. That being said, William or I shall work with each of you so that no mistakes are made later with the ritual.” He let them study the still incomplete network for a few moments before he deactivated it and returned it to his desk. “As the Equinox approaches, we will go over the ritual more in depth. For now, that is all that is needed to be said so you may go unless you have any questions.”

Babbling immediately left, but Salazar was not too surprised. The woman had seemed offended that she had not been consulted on the wards. It was not Salazar’s problem so he did not let it bother him. Instead, he ignored her retreat. William was the next to leave, saying he needed to spend some time with his wife and promising that he would properly introduce him to Fleur later. Charles left with Lugh, as the two needed to settle into the rooms that had been prepared for them. The corridors for refugee families were not completely finished, but some of the rooms were available for the few that had already trickled into the castle. Salazar had noticed it was mostly family of who he assumed to be Order members.

“Is there something that I can help you with?” He asked the twins as he pinched the bridge of his nose. They were the last to remain.

George leaned forward and tilted his head in an almost birdlike motion. “This evening, the first wave of refugees are entering Hogwarts just after dinner,” he informed Salazar. “He mentioned it at an Order meeting earlier.” He took a breath then and shared a look with his brother. “Dumbledore took your advice and is having them arrive at Hogsmeade before taking the trips up to the castle through the gates. Just thought you would want to be made aware. We’ll keep on the lookout for the eighth.”

The two stood up then and gave identical jaunty salutes. “Don’t work too hard, Sal!” They echoed each other before making a hasty retreat out the door before Salazar could comment on the butchering of his name.

“Menaces they are,” Salazar muttered to himself with a shake of his head. He gave a sigh then and looked over the empty office with a sigh. He had some time before dinner so he pulled out the parchments once more to go over the runes. He felt like his eyesight was going to cross, he thought as he settled into his chair and massaged the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should instead take a nap. He had the time for once and he had not been able to sleep well lately. He would not be able to work on the runes with the exhaustion he felt anyhow.

So Salazar huffed out a small laugh and stuffed the parchments once more back into his desk. The wizard heaved himself back out of his chair and made his way to his bedroom instead. In his bedroom, he pointed his wand at the enchanted window. It currently showed a vision of the Forbidden Forest. With a flick of his wand, it changed to show the shore of the loch at night. Another swish of his wand dimmed the lanterns and he laid his wand on his bedside table. As he removed his robes, he breathed a sigh of relief and then laid them over the back of a chair. Salazar padded over to his bed then and slipped eagerly beneath the covers. It was too quiet, so he grabbed his wand to point at the enchanted window and a quick spell had the sound of waves reach him. Salazar barely remembered to set an alarm before he allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep that was thankfully void of dreams.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

So Salazar huffed out a small laugh and stuffed the parchments once more back into his desk. The wizard heaved himself back out of his chair and made his way to his bedroom instead. In his bedroom, he pointed his wand at the enchanted window. It currently showed a vision of the Forbidden Forest. With a flick of his wand, it changed to show the shore of the loch at night. Another swish of his wand dimmed the lanterns and he laid his wand on his bedside table. As he removed his robes, he breathed a sigh of relief and then laid them over the back of a chair. Salazar padded over to his bed then and slipped eagerly beneath the covers. It was too quiet, so he grabbed his wand to point at the enchanted window and a quick spell had the sound of waves reach him. Salazar barely remembered to set an alarm before he allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep that was thankfully void of dreams.

Chapter Nine

With a groan, Salazar opened his eyes to a dark ceiling. The sound of waves that crashed distantly against a shore caught his attention. In the moment before full consciousness, it confused him and tried to pull him back under into sleep. But, as awareness came back to him, Salazar grabbed his wand off the nearby table and waved it at the charmed window. He quickly gauged the time then. If he hurried, Salazar figured he could catch the end of the evening meal before the first wave of refugees appeared that night. He definitely wanted to go meet them along with everyone else.

He needed to get on his way if he wanted to eat. Salazar climbed to his feet and stretched out. The nap had not been long, but it had definitely been needed even if he felt a little groggy still. Food would help though. So, with a wave of his wand, his clothes were straightened and he grabbed his robes from the back of the chair. Once he had slipped his boots back on, Salazar left his bedroom. When he reached the Great Hall towards the end of dinner, Salazar slid into his seat as he looked over what was left on the platters. Luckily, a full plate was slid over to him by one of the twins who were once again at the staff table. “Saved you more than the scraps left,” the man said with a wink. Salazar thanked him quickly, but made sure still it had not been tampered with. He would not put it past the twins to do something of that nature. Luckily, the food was fine so he dug in until all the dishes disappeared.

Once the tables were cleared, Dumbledore stood to address the students that remained in the Great Hall. He reminded them that their classes were to resume the next morning and sent them off to their commonrooms. Once the children were on their way, the headmaster gathered a small group of volunteers to head down to the village to escort the refugees. Most of the group was made up of Order members, the twins Salazar at least recognized. As Dumbledore led them from the Great Hall to where five large carriages waited for them outside the castle doors, Salazar allowed himself to feel a little relieved as the twins stepped up to either side of him. It was nice to have someone to talk to on the trip down as they all piled into the roomy first carriage.

The trip down to the village was quiet as conversations were kept to a hush. Salazar had taken a seat next to one of the windows and kept his gaze on the scenery even as he listened in on the twins’ conversation. He had his own input, but mostly kept quiet. His attention was taken by Hogsmeade as they approached. As always, he sought out the differences between what he remembered and what was new. The village retained its old world charm, though the streets were quiet and grim from the shadows of war. As the carriages came to halt, Salazar pushed open the door and dropped down to the ground. The air was quiet around them and the others appeared to notice it also as few spoke.

When Dumbledore appeared from the carriage last, the headmaster assigned a few of the guard to keep an eye over the carriages, just in case. He led the others the rest of the way to the village gates, where they waited in a tense quiet. As the hour turned, several groups arrived by various portkeys. From the relieved, and familiar, chatter Salazar surmised that many of them were the families of the Order members currently gathered at the school and had come to meet them. Though there had been other families that had started to trickle in, it made sense these people would be first to arrive as a group.

Even though there was relief that the group had arrived safely, conversation was kept towards a minimum as everyone seemed anxious to bring the refugees to the safety of the castle. Luggage was gathered up and Salazar helped guide the group towards the carriages. As the first of the luggage was levitated onto the carriages, a lone man suddenly appeared while accompanied by a soft light. Wands were immediately trained on the stranger, but he only lifted his empty hands in a universal sign of surrender. “I mean no harm,” he spoke lightly, his accent hard to place. “I merely seek the sanctuary that Hogwarts has to offer.”

Dumbledore was the first to step forward. “May we have your name, stranger? And I also have to ask that you show us your left forearm,” he insisted in that grandfatherly way of his that still somehow left no room for argument. The stranger pushed up his tunic sleeve to reveal pale flesh free of any blemish. The absence of the Dark Mark went far to relax the jittery Order members, though a good many of them did not fully relax their guard as the stranger had not been on the list of expected arrivals.

The unknown man fixed his sleeves as he introduced himself. “My name is Einar and I was an honoured friend here, once upon a time. Hogwarts herself should recognize me,” the man finished with a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry, but I do not recognize you,” Dumbledore replied in confusion. He had been at Hogwarts for a very long time and, yet, had never seen the man before.

Einar’s smile widened in response and he gave a somewhat tinkling laugh, somehow reminiscent of little bells or the voice of a stream. “I am a wuduælfen of the Ljósálfar. We have long lives.” He seemed privately amused by the confusion that rippled through the group at his announcement, mischief in his eyes.

Salazar could not contain a small smile, as a warmth and relief spread through his chest. “What he means is that he is a wood elf of the light elves. His people normally reside in Alfheim, one of the nine realms of Yggdrasil.” He stepped forward then so he could greet Einar. “Welcome to Hogwarts. It has been some time, my friend.”

As Einar caught sight of him, his eyes lit up and the elf quickly moved forward to embrace Salazar warmly with a grip that was strong for such a willowy figure. Salazar indulged Einar and returned the hug a little more loosely. “Herrick. It has been very long.” A small frown touched his pale lips as he switched to a language far more familiar for the both of them, a language that Einar had taught Salazar. “Too long for a human. You disappeared over one thousand years ago and yet here you are, untouched by time. A wizard you may be, but still mortal.”

“That is a story for another time, old friend,” Salazar spoke with a small smirk as he enjoyed the flow of Old Norse once more. “Perhaps after some questioning by the Headmaster first, I presume. I just want you to know that they do not know who I really am and I want it to remain that way for now.” Salazar stepped back then and looked to the others. “Headmaster, I have known Einar for some years now. If you think that you can trust me at all, I will vouch for him. I will vouch for him if you can even entertain the idea that a light elf might work for an evil wizard.” Which would be absurd as such a thing would never happen and he was not an evil wizard.

The proclamation seemed to ease the other wizard for now, but Dumbledore took the opportunity to invite them for a late tea in his office once they reached the castle again. Salazar knew better than to refuse, and had even expected it. But that aside, it was so good to see a familiar face that he knew he could still trust. Einar may be a light elf, but that did not mean he was against everything Dark. Being a light elf didn't even mean much past his colouring, just the fact that he was fair skinned and fair haired. Salazar agreed to meet the Headmaster in his office, then turned to help herd the new refugees towards the safety of Hogwarts.

But then Black was suddenly in his face, a sudden attack that even Salazar was not prepared for. The older man forced Salazar against the gate with a snarl and eyes that blazed with some sort of anger from a place that Salazar couldn't guess. Something had seemed to have finally snapped in the man and he looked to be filled with an irrational rage. “Herrick. Herrick. Herrick! Why?! Why do you continue to taunt me?!”

Though he coughed as the air was forced from his lungs, Salazar flicked his wrist and then pushed the tip of his wand into Black’s stomach. “I have no idea what you are on about, Black," he croaked out. He took a deep lungful of air, careful not to choke on it. "Have you finally gone insane? What does my name have to do with anything? You have known what my name is! Why attack me now?”

Black did not back off, even with the unspoken threat. He growled much like a dog before his own wand was suddenly against Salazar’s neck. “No! You have his face! Though it's not the exact same and your eyes are too cold, too dark, you look enough like him. To see my godson’s face on a filthy Slytherin, it pisses me off. Herrick is the last straw, you keep strutting around with that name. I can’t hold it back anymore." He pressed the tip of his wand further into Salazar's throat. "Did you know that James wanted to call him that after an ancestor, as according to tradition? But Lily thought it was a bit too old-fashioned, so they shortened it to Harry. So, how dare you! What gives you the right to steal his name and face?!”

Salazar sent a low powered and wordless bludgeoning curse at Black to push him back away from him. Sparks singed his throat, but he ignored it. “Do you even realize how unhinged you sound right now, Black? I have stolen no one’s face, nor their name. If you are going to hate me, hate me for something I have done and not for how I look.”

Undaunted, Black got back into his face and snarled again. “I hate you because I still think you are a Dark Wizard. And, you’re a no good Slytherin.”

Salazar wanted so badly to retaliate, but he held his tongue. A quick glance at Einar ensured his silence as well. Instead of snapping at Black, Salazar pushed him away once more and straightened his robes. “I am done squabbling with you, Black. We have a job to do. Let us do it.” He turned to see that the others had ushered in the refugees into the carriages and away from the fight so only Einar remained behind. The elf seemed on edge, but stayed rooted to his spot by Salazar’s wordless request.

The Alfa came closer to Salazar’s side then, his pale skin and radiant hair a stark contrast to the wizard’s own dark hair. Still, Einar gave Salazar a warm smile as Black finally stormed away. “He is blind,” was all Einar said before he let Salazar lead him over to one of the carriages. A flick of Einar’s wrist had his single bag loaded with the others. “See you at the castle, my friend,” Einar spoke and then entered the carriage. Salazar shut the door behind him as he was the last to board. He breathed out and gave a little shake of his head.

Once the carriages were secure, Salazar grabbed a lantern from the empty driver’s seat. He lit it with an unspoken spell and then gently patted the withers of the skeletal thestral that pulled the carriage. He took his spot next to the carriage and, in the next moment, they started to creep forward one by one. It was a long road through the castle gates and to the winding trek up to the castle doors. Salazar and the others walked as they surrounded the carriages to protect them. After all, there were some young children among the refugees. Thankfully, the trip was uneventful. They were, of course, already in the protected area of the wards. It did not stop the on edge feeling.

As they helped the newcomers disembark, Salazar spied Dumbledore as he spoke to Black. By the expressions of the two men, Salazar knew that it was a lecture rather than a calm conversation. Presumably it was over what had happened at the gates of Hogsmeade. Black looked none too pleased, but Salazar ignored the glare that was sent his way when he caught the man’s eye by accident. Instead, he turned to instruct a house elf to bring Einar’s things to his old rooms that were luckily situated near Salazar’s new ones.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Dumbledore called for attention. “I know all of you must be tired from your journey. The house elves have brought your belongings to your rooms.” He gave them all a smile. “As this is a school, I do ask that you do not wander the halls while classes are in session. Also, I ask that you respect the rules of the school while you are here.” He clapped his hands once then. “Now! I do not want you to feel as if you are all confined to your rooms. The library, and every other resource, is open to you as long as you gain permission from the appropriate professor. During the times when school is in session, there is a common area available to mingle. The school grounds are also available to wander as long as you all remain away from the boundaries and the Forbidden Forest. This is, of course, for your own safety.” The Headmaster smoothed out his beard as he spoke. “An extra table has been added for meal times, as well. If you have students here, you are very much welcome to visit with them as long as it does not interfere with their studies. The students have been forbidden from the floor that has been reserved for guest suites and cannot passed through the entrance unless invited in. I ask that, while your children are allowed to visit you, at night they still need to sleep in their House dormitories.”

The headmaster patted his beard then, a smile on his lips. “I think that is all for now. Kingsley will show you to your corridor. Name plaques have been added to the doors by the house elves to make finding your rooms easier. Have a good night!”

A dark skinned wizard with a stern expression stepped forward to lead the group up the staircase and out of sight. Dumbledore approached Salazar and Einar then, Black close on his heels along with the gentle mannered werewolf, Lupin. The werewolf sniffed at the air curiously as he approached, but shook his head and appeared to dismiss what it was that had caught his attention. Salazar spared him a curious look and then focused back on the headmaster.

“I had thought this would be a private tea,” Salazar said with a raised eyebrow. It was certainly a bold move to have a werewolf, a recognized Dark creature, in the same room as a light elf. Einar certainly would not actually mind, but it was the principle of the idea. That, and Salazar suspected the werewolf was so drugged up with wolfsbane that he could not make proper use of his senses. If he wasn’t so obviously close to Black, Salazar might have made an effort to help the werewolf in some way. Lupin would be more likely to rebuff his efforts instead and Salazar had more problems than a werewolf with self esteem issues.

Dumbledore spoke then and interrupted Salazar’s thoughts. “I trust them, and Sirius has promised to be on his best behaviour.” The old man had a rather placating smile as he led the way to his office. Salazar grit his teeth, but followed after the Headmaster. Einar walked beside him and spared him a glance, but held his tongue for now. The elf did wonder on his friend’s relationship with the three men, but knew he would get the story soon enough.

Once past the gargoyle and in the Headmaster’s office, Einar smiled as he looked around as he was momentarily distracted. Part of him wanted to lighten the mood as well, though he was not sure of Salazar's or how he might respond. Still, he let himself comment, “This used to be Godric’s office long ago.” He touched one of the shelves before he looked around again at all of the many portraits. Past headmasters he assumed as he recognized several of them. “These are the same, these shelves, but many things have changed over the years.” The many portraits being one of them.

“You knew Godric Gryffindor?” It was Black who spoke, a spark in his usually dead grey eyes.

“I was friends with all of the founders,” Einar replied. “In fact, I was one of the first professors they hired. They were very young when they founded Hogwarts, so they needed Masters to help teach.”

“Even with Slytherin?” There was a sneer now in Black’s tone and on his lips as he focused on the one thing.

Einar gave Black a withering look. “I know what you wizards think of him, but Salazar was my best friend. He was a Dark wizard, yes, but he was a good man. He cared for his students, who were the misfits. I regret that I was not there when the others took leave of their senses and banished Salazar.” Black looked ready to protest, but Einar cut him off. “I do not want to hear it. If we hated all Dark wizards or creatures just because of their magical orientation, then you should hate the werewolf who stands next to you. Dark and Light are merely two sides of the same coin. Dark is not evil and Light is not always good. What matters is intent and balance. Light is a misnomer anyways, chosen mostly for the connotation that it would be opposite of Dark.”

Black opened his mouth to speak again, but this time Dumbledore finally stepped in. The headmaster invited them all to sit as tea appeared. With a weary sigh, the old man sat behind his desk and picked up his own teacup after he had added a generous amount of sugar. “Grindelwald was a Light wizard so to speak, Sirius. He was hailed as the greatest Dark Lord of the time but, in truth, he was a Light oriented wizard. Look at what he did. What Einar says of Dark and Light is also true, though it is a topic that needs to be discussed carefully given current events.” The headmaster ignored Black’s mutterings that he still did not trust Slytherins as the old man turned to Einar instead. “You say you are from Alfheim? This is one of the nine realms that the Norse believed in, yes?”

Einar gave a rather sly smile. “Yes. There are a great many realms and this plane is only one of them. There are nine realms in particular that are connected by Yggdrasil where Midgard and Alfheim are just two of them. There are many, many more than that, but Midgard connects to Yggdrasil through sites on the Northmen’s land.” His sly smile widened. “How do you think the Northmen learned their language and met their gods?” He looked at Salazar then. “Speaking of which, I found Jormungandr. He wants to meet you. I had thought it would be impossible, but here you are.” Salazar did not get a chance to reply.

“How do you know Evans? And stop speaking in that other language as if you have something to hide!” Black burst out as he stressed Salazar’s assumed surname while he sent the man another dark glare. There was a hint of something in his eyes that Salazar could not place, but did not care to dig into.

Einar glanced at Salazar as well. “When Salazar was banished from Hogwarts, I was away to visit my adopted family in Fyrkat and I could not bear to return to Hogwarts when I had heard he had been exiled. Especially when I heard that Salazar had gone missing.” It was the truth. “Over the years I have returned to Hogwarts, but I have never stayed for long. I have done a great deal of traveling over the years and came upon Herrick during my travels. I ran afoul of some highwaymen on the magical roadways where Herrick stopped to help me. His presence was so commanding and it reminded me of the people I left behind in Fyrkat. He had a great mind, one of a leader. I thought he suited his name as it means war chief.” Einar had been the one to name Salazar in the way of the Northmen, though the others did not need to know this fact.

Salazar smiled in remembrance, though the memory was soured by Godric’s presence. Still, Salazar supposed that if Godric had not been there then they may not have met Einar. As Dumbledore asked Einar some about his more recent travels, Salazar let himself reminisce over how he had met the elf.

((Flashback))

“Just why are we stuck travelling the road when we could be using other, much faster, modes of transportation?” Godric complained with a quiet whine. “The cushioning charms seem to be doing nothing.”

Salazar sighed in aggravation. “I told you when we started that the magical herbs we are transporting are delicate. Helga would have our hides if we ruined them by exposing them to the magics of instant transportation.”

Godric gave a huff as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose you are correct. It is not like I have forgotten this fact, but it does not make the journey any less boring. Or slow. There has to be better ways. And we only have a thestral for company!”

“You should be lucky we have that!” Salazar finally snapped. “Without the new herd near Hogwarts’ ground, we would have been on this journey by foot. Especially after you lost our horses to that damn card game! So stop your grousing before I spell your mouth shut! Besides, you should be used to travelling by horse after all the journey we had done before we found Hogwarts.” His hands were clenched around the reins. It took a lot to set him off, but Godric had already spent quite a bit of time complaining.

Godric raised his hands and leaned away from Salazar some. “Forgive me, brother. I took my complaining too far.” He dropped his hands then. “And I am truly sorry about the horses, Sal. I had too much to drink that night in the Hog’s Head Inn. I have already promised to acquire a new horse for you, I swear.” The man’s gaze drifted away down the cobbled path of the wizard laid road. Though they were not currently lit, the road was lined by fairy lanterns at specific intervals. They would glow an enchanting blue when night descended. On both sides of the road also, back perhaps a couple or so meters, were standing stones. They rose from the ground along the roadway and around rest areas, engraved with ogham runewards. They cut the pathways away from mundane eyes and left them just out of phase with the mundane world. It hid the magical roads while they also created shortcuts between magical communities. Some things were just too large or delicate for instant transportation. These roads still took time to travel, but did cut that time down. 

Before Salazar had a chance to say anything else, Godric suddenly grabbed the reins and pulled the thestral to a halt. “Wait,”  he hissed to his companion when Salazar’s head whipped around with a thunderous expression. “Something is not right here. The air is too still and something about it feels wrong.”

Salazar took a breath to calm himself and focused on the world around them. Godric was right. The air was very still. It was like the calm before the storm. It was just down the road then that Salazar caught sight of a lone rider that slowly approached their direction. As he watched, coloured beams of spell light suddenly shot haphazardly towards the stranger. Godric gave a surprised yell and nearly bolted from his seat, but Salazar grabbed hold of the man’s arm. “Wait. Look,” he insisted sharply. The majority of the spells had bounced off of a shield that appeared around the traveler. The figure was blown back from his horse, but quickly regained his feet. The stranger exuded grace that could be seen even from the distance they were at. “We do not want to get caught up in something dangerous, Godric. Be patient and do not run into things blindly. I would think that you would have learned this lesson by now,” Salazar stated dryly as he guided the cart just off the road. As he worked quickly, he pulled out his bag from beneath the seat and removed four wooden stakes. Each one was engraved with ogham runes. Salazar climbed down from the cart and then drove the stakes into the ground around it at the four cardinal points to create a barrier. It would not interfere with their cargo, but the barrier would only let Godric and him through.

Salazar crept forward then, Godric close behind. “Why would they attack him?” Salazar wondered as they hid behind a cluster of boulders. “Look. He does not appear to have much on him. Why work so hard to attack?” He regarded the area with narrowed eyes. The answer still did not come to him, but Salazar noticed something else odd. “They are concentrating their attacks from one side,” he observed. “They are herding him.” The realization came suddenly. “A trap must be set up ahead.” The man was holding his own well, but if he was caught in a trap it would be the end for him.

“What do we do?” Godric asked. The man was impulsive and often ran in before he thought over his actions, but if Salazar could stop him from running in blind then the man would actually use his head.

Salazar reached into the pouch at his hip and pulled out two rune staves. “We need to imbed these in the ground. It will possibly put his back against a wall, but it will prevent him from falling into whatever trap the vagabonds have set.” He held one out to Godric. “Have this one and I shall do the other. Try to remain unnoticed as long as you are able. Once the stakes are in, we will flank the traveler’s attackers. There looks to be at least ten of them.”

Godric took the stave with a grim nod. “Understood.” The two parted then, taking opposite paths. Both employed magic to keep their movement unseen until they were close enough to the trap. Once the ward wall crackled into place a mere meter away from the traveler, they let their appearance become known.

As he grabbed the sword at his waist, Salazar adjusted his grip and then jumped into the fray. He heard Godric give a yell, much like a bull, and knew his brother had joined as well. The clash of metal grew to a cacophony as the advance came to a halt. Salazar fought his way through until he stood back to back with the pale haired stranger.

“Thanks,” the man spoke, his voice heavily accented.

Salazar gave a nod and guided a blasting hex through the length of his blade as he used it as a focus in lieu of his wand. “Up ahead they set a trap. Godric and I placed a ward wall in front so you would not fall to its clutches. But if we can back them up to the wall, we can turn it on them,” he suggested as he ducked beneath a wayward spell and slammed his elbow into the bandit’s gut. As the man started to double over, Salazar twisted his wrist and drove his sword up to the hilt through the soft underside of the man’s chin. He twisted the knife and then yanked it free, uncaring as the man crumpled to the ground.

As the bandit fell, the others’ advance suddenly faltered. Godric appeared by his side, his sword bloody and held by his side. The vagabonds bolted and Salazar held out a hand to stop Godric’s step to follow them. “No. That is enough bloodshed.” It was not their task to bring the bandits to justice, so why should they put their necks further on the chopping black? “There is no more need for my plan then. I can assume this brute was their leader,” he said distastefully as he nudged the body of the one he had just killed. He gave a sigh then and flicked his knives to clean off the blood. He sheathed them again and then pulled out his wand. He twirled it once to gather the few bodies together on the ground. “Whatever drove you to do what you have done, be at peace now,” he whispered before he flicked his wand and set the bodies on fire, not willing to leave the bodies to the elements and the scavenging of animals. He missed the stranger’s look of approval at his choice.

“Thank you,” the stranger said again and captured their attention. Salazar absently wiped some blood from his cheek and gave a nod of acceptance at the word of gratitude. “I am Einar,” the man introduced himself. “I am, how you say, in your debt.” The man gave a slight bow.

Salazar looked him over critically. How would he call in the debt? Finally, he gave a small smirk. “Do you have a place you travel to? If not, come join us. I can see that you are not from around here. I ask that you perhaps join us in our return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I call in your debt by asking that you teach us about your homeland, your customs, your gods. I would also like to learn your language and perhaps any magical knowledge you wish to part with.”

Einar said nothing, his expression searching. Finally, he inclined his head in acquiescence. “I will agree to the terms, as long as you are willing to teach me some of your own customs, as you say. I have not been in this land long.” He spoke well, though Salazar had to focus to listen past the accent. He agreed to the trade.

“Well, now we know why they attacked him,” Godric spoke up with a grim smile.

Salazar glanced over at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Oh? And what great insight have you seen, Godric?”

“He is an elf. They were racist. Or slavers,” Godric said with a touch of pride for the thought he had cracked the riddle. Salazar rolled his eyes, but privately had to agree. Einar only watched the two in amusement.

((End Flashback))

Einar had, true to his word, accompanied them to their destination and then back to Hogwarts. Over that time, the three had become good friends and the two wizards had fallen in love with the picture that the elf had painted. Einar had then invited them to see his home in Fyrkat. Godric and Salazar could not pass up the chance to see this world for themselves, so they had lived in Fyrkat for half of an entire season. It was roughly three months of the modern calendar as the Norse calendar only had two seasons. The people of Fyrkat had greeted them with suspicion at first, but Einar had vouched for them and the two wizards had used their magic to help keep the people warm through the cold winter. Fyrkat’s mundane people had been more open to magic than Salazar had ever seen in other mundane villages, though those who were magical had practiced their magic in ways that were different from what he had known. In time, a very short time, Fyrkat had become almost like a second home to Salazar. It was his only regret that he would never be able to see the people ever again.

As he shook off the memories, Salazar returned to the poorly disguised interrogation. It did not go on for much longer as Einar remained perfectly civil and Dumbledore could not find any reason not to let the elf stay. A few of the old portraits had spoken up as well, the old Headmasters acknowledged that they knew Einar and that Hogwarts had always welcomed him.

So once they were finally released from Dumbledore’s office, Salazar led the way down to his rooms and invited Einar inside. It was only after they had both settled in before the warmth of the hearth that Einar turned in his seat to look at Salazar more closely. “So tell me, friend, how you came to be in this time. While you are a wizard, it is well past your time and you have not aged but a year since I last saw you so very long ago.”

Salazar leaned back in his own seat and was quiet for a long moment as he thought on the answer, his eyes on the flame in the hearth. Finally, he breathed out. “I am here through either the will of the Gods or the will of magic, perhaps both,” Salazar responded quietly. He shook his head then and turned his gaze on Einar. “Were you told about Cayden? About his agenda against the mundane and their magical children?” As his friend’s nod, Salazar gave a heavy sigh. “After they banished me from the school, I went to confront Cayden. I had nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. I do not know what I planned for after. Perhaps I had hoped to die.” He shook his head, collecting himself as he ran his fingers over the rim of his goblet. “I defeated him, my little brother. It tore at my heart, but he could not be saved. His last spell went awry, I think. As near as I can tell, it mixed with the magical residue of the duel and resulted in an explosion. I became caught in the backlash. When I woke, I found myself in a new time. I did not deign to study the magic that caused this as I have no intention of returning to the past. I will make my place here.”

“You could have come to me,” Einar said quietly. “I had heard of Cayden’s death." There was silence then and it stretched long enough that Salazar felt an ill feeling fall over him. Einar noticed his unease and grimaced. "Herrick, I am sorry, but you must understand what became of your brother.” Something twisted in the elf’s expression and Salazar’s heart caught in his chest. He almost did not want to hear what Einar had to say. “Herrick. Your brother became a draugr. I had heard of Cayden’s madness. I was one of the ones who searched for you, who knew to look at Cayden’s homestead. I was there when he was found, knew what he had become.” Einar painfully kept his eyes on Salazar’s stricken expression. “I am so sorry to bring you this news, Herrick. If it is any consolation at all, all parts of your brother's soul is fully at rest.”

Salazar stood up abruptly and went to one of his cabinets. He unlocked it and pulled out a bottle of mulled wine. He poured himself a glass and knocked it back before he poured himself another drink and poured one for Einar. He brought it over to the elf before he sank back down in his seat. “Thank you, my friend," he finally forced himself to say. "Thank you for letting me know and thank you for putting him to rest.”

Einar took the glass and raised it up in a salute. He took a drink before he smiled down at the liquid inside. “Elfwine is better," he said with a lightness that Salazar knew was meant to change the heavy atmosphere that had descended around them. "I have not had any in a long while. Perhaps once things settle, we can travel together again and celebrate with elfwine. But I know you well, Salazar Slytherin. You have joined the wizards’ war whether or not you wanted to join.” He chuckled and offered a wry smile. “Oh, how I have missed you.”

Salazar smiled as well and shook his head. “I cannot begin to imagine what you feel. For me, it has been a short time since I have last seen you. Feels like barely any time at all. And yet, for you, many seasons have passed. Still, I must say that it is a relief to have a familiar face here. And one that I can actually trust.” It was hard to trust anyone after his friends had betrayed him, but he had known Einar well and Einar had not been one of his betrayers. Einar was someone he could trust with anything. Although, he still felt as if he must still keep his heart behind a fortified wall as he did not want to be hurt again. He was sure that Einar understood.

Before he could speak again, there was a knock on the door. Salazar frowned and stood up. “Excuse me a moment.” He walked over to the door and pushed it open to find the twins on the other side. He had no chance to ask what they wanted as they quickly bullied their way into his rooms. Smug grins graced their faces as they took a seat on the couch. “What do you want?” Salazar finally ground out.

“An introduction!” The twins chorused and left Salazar with the feeling of exasperation.

The man gave in and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took his seat back. “Einar, these are the Weasley twins Frederick and George. Twins, this is Einar, an old friend. He knows me.”

Einar leaned forward curiously. “Magical twins? How extraordinary. You share a single soul, yes? Perfect copies of each other in all its parts. I have known very few in all my years of living.”

“But two separate magical cores,” the twins echoed themselves. “And two separate minds.” They shared a look. “Not many treat us separately or know how to tell us apart.”

Salazar picked up his goblet again and he took a sip of his wine. He motioned absently towards the twin on the left. “You are Frederick. The other is George.” The two might be magical twins, but they were still different entities. He did not see how it was difficult and he had only known the younger men for a short time. He looked back up to see the two with stares that were identically flabbergasted. “What?” He drawled the word as he attempted to hide his discomfort. What had he done now?

“How? How can you tell? Our own mother cannot tell us apart so we frequently go by Gred and Forge because no one seems to care anyways,” Frederick said.

With a sigh, Salazar sat back in his chair. “Your faces are mirrored. Frederick has a dark freckle near the corner of his left eye and George has it on the right. You both give, as they say, crooked smiles and those are mirrored. Telling the difference was the easy part and it was only a matter of putting a name to a face, which was solved after you introduced yourselves to me,” he explained.

The twins shared a look and then turned to Salazar. “Thank you,” they said seriously. “You have no idea what it means to us.” Salazar could only nod, unsure of what else to say. Magical twins were unique and, he supposed, difficult to deal with if one did not understand. Twins shared the same soul, but that meant different halves of the same parts. As similar as they were, how different they were as well.

“It is getting late,” Einar spoke after a few moments of silence. He drained the rest of his wine and stood up. “Though we have not spoken together here long, perhaps it is time that we should all be off to bed.”

Eager to escape the suddenly heavily weight of the room, Salazar stood as well. “I agree. I have to return to my classes tomorrow anyhow. So, I will take you to your rooms first then, Einar. Frederick. George. Good night.”

The twins gave Salazar salutes as they climbed to their feet. “Aye, aye, capitan!”

Salazar gave them a strange look and opened the door for them all. He rolled his eyes once they had left and then motioned for Einar. “You may have your old rooms, of course. Hogwarts has kept them sealed for you and I have not attempted to enter them.”

“After you then, dear Herrick.”

Salazar rolled his eyes once more and led the way down the hallway to Einar’s rooms. When they arrived at the door, Salazar asked Hogwarts to unseal the rooms for the elf. The door materialized with a shimmer after barely a moment. Once the door appeared, Einar turned to Salazar and clasped his forearm. “It was truly so wonderful to see you again, Herrick. Sleep well tonight and I shall see you in the morn,” he said as he wished Salazar a farewell. Salazar returned the farewell and then returned to his own rooms once the door had shut behind his friend. He took the time to clean up before he retired to bed, Eolas already there and waiting for him to give a report. Mostly minor incidents thankfully. He wished he could carry Eolas with him frequently as he once had. He saw so little of his familiar nowadays. But, content for now, Salazar whispered a goodnight to his familiar and let sleep take him.

((Page Break))

The weeks before the ritual flew by in a hurry. More and more refugees sought out the safety of Hogwarts. There were even parents of his Slytherins that arrived. That had warranted a rather tense discussion with the headmaster. But, in the end, Dumbledore had grudgingly accepted Salazar’s reasoning. His only stipulation was that they remained apart from the others. The headmaster cited not wanting to cause unrest amongst the Light oriented families. Salazar agreed for the safety of those under his wing and for no other reason. He had prepared the dungeons already anyhow.

The brunt of his time was spent busy with his classes alongside the preparations for the ritual. Einar had stepped in to help, much to Salazar’s relief, and was instrumental for the preparations in gathering the needed materials. It took some pressure off of the twins, which they thanked him for. Einar was also well versed in runes, so spent long hours with William and Salazar going over the runic web for the suggested repairs and extensions. Many of the others Salazar could say he got along with and he liked them to an extent. It was Einar, however, that knew him the best and it eased him to know he had an ally of Einar’s calibre.

So when the day of the ritual dawned, Salazar did not feel too overly stressed. They had managed to obtain everything and they had fully written out the ritual. The others knew their parts. There was anxiety that lingered in the back of his mind but, as Salazar went out to the grove with Einar to cleanse the area around the altar, he did not feel like he might vibrate out of his body. As they walked along the grounds amid the cool morning air, Salazar remained silent.

“Hogwarts has stood proud for many years. There will always be a cycle of balance, but she will stand for years yet. Do not fret over her,” Einar spoke suddenly as he shifted the basket he held in his arms.

His companion gave a snort. “It is the anticipation that gives me nerves. We are so close, yet so much can still happen in that amount of time. I have faith, though.” Salazar set down his own basket next to the altar once they reached it. Once it was settled, Salazar reached into the basket and pulled out a copper knife. It was wrapped in a sterilized cloth to keep impurities away. After he had unwrapped it, Salazar used the knife to pry away the ruined selenite crystal away from its base. Einar came up then and donned kidskin gloves. He picked up the blackened crystal and wrapped it in a clean cloth before he tucked it away into Salazar’s basket. “Are there any web fragments left on the crystal?” Einar asked as he removed the gloves.

Salazar shook his head as he put the knife away. “No. It is safe to dispose of without having to break any strands.” He pulled out a copper bowl then along with several bundles of herbs. “Do you have the salt water?” Einar held it out to Salazar at his request, so the dark haired wizard took the clay jar and uncapped it. He poured the salt water into the bowl and handed the empty jar back to Einar before he grabbed the first bunch of herbs. Salazar plucked off the leaves and added them to the water, then grabbed the next bunch and discarded the leaves as he added torn pieces of stem to the bowl. As he worked, Einar remained next to him and bundled dried mugwort.

Once he finished adding all of the herbs, Salazar stirred the brew carefully and then slowly poured the potion over the altar stone. The black marks that marred the surface burned away into smoke with every drop of the potion. Salazar set the bowl aside once he was done and took one of the mugwort bundles from Einar. The elf lit both bundles and the two walked to opposite points of the altar circle.

As Einar mirrored his movements, Salazar held the burning mugwort aloft. “I call upon the Aesir, the Vanir. To Odinn. To Freyr,” he whispered in Old Norse as he wafted the smoke through the area he walked. Every inch of the space needed to be cleansed by the smoke. “I call upon the Aesir, the Vanir, to cleanse this place of every taint, of every blackened blemish of ill intent.” Salazar turned. “I call upon the Aesir, the Vanir. To Odinn. To Freyr.” He repeated the chant along with Einar until the smoke from the mugwort filled the altar circle and both stood on opposite sides of the altar.

The two reached into the base as one where the crystal would rest and left behind the bundles they had used. Quietly, they gathered their other supplies and left the mugwort to continue to burn until nothing was left. The taint from the ruined wardstone would be gone when they came back later for the rest of the ritual.

Once they passed the ring of trees, both could not help but take a sigh of relief. “Even with the smoke, the air was much clearer. The weight was lessening,” Einar observed in approval. Salazar only nodded in agreement. Things were looking up and soon they would all be able to breathe a little easier. They only need to get through the rest of the day.

As they entered the castle, they found that it had just begun to wake for the day. They ignored the waking portraits and walked to the seventh floor to head to the Room of Requirement where the others would join them shortly. As he opened the door to the Room, Salazar smiled at the form it had chosen to take. After they had met Einar for the first time, Salazar and Godric had been invited to spend a season at Einar’s home in Fyrkat. The elf had been welcomed there after his arrival in Midgard. Salazar and Godric had taken up his offer and had stayed half the winter there. When they had returned to Hogwarts, Einar had come with them though he often went on trips to visit Fyrkat. Salazar sometimes had gone with him, though it had only been a handful of times. It was something that Salazar would always cherish and the one thing he regretted leaving behind.

The Room seemed to have picked up on it as Einar and Salazar stepped into a carved wooden hall. What ran down the center was a fire pit perfect for gatherings. “Ah, this brings back so many wonderful memories,” Einar said as he set down his basket. He picked up the ruined crystal with the kidskin gloves once more then and dumped it into the crackling fire. “Return to the earth and be purified,” he whispered. There was a burst of strong flame and then it died back down.

Salazar set down his own basket and went to take a seat near the fire. Once the others arrived, he would request food to break their fast. For now, he warmed himself by the fire in Einar’s company.

Einar and Salazar were speaking quietly together when the door to the Room opened. William, Lugh, and Charles were the first to wander in, their eyes still blurry with sleep. The twins appeared shortly after, but both looked considerably more awake than their brothers. They immediately accosted Salazar after they barely paused to greet William and Charles. Salazar had to wonder at their obsession with touching him as he struggled to slip out of their hug. Einar only stood by to watch Salazar’s struggles with amusement.

Professor Babbling was the last to arrive. She sniffed as she took in the decor of the room and then seated herself in a corner, with a thought that conjured up lanterns and a desk. She set a messenger bag on the surface of the desk and pulled out what looked like essays she needed to grade.

Once he shrugged off the arms of the twins finally, Salazar stood to his feet. “Thank you all for gathering here today. This evening at sunset, as you all know, we will take upon ourselves a delicate ritual. Einar and I thought it best if we separated ourselves from the rest of the castle to prepare our minds and wills for our task. Spend the time until the ritual relaxing. How you spend that time is up to you, but all I ask is that you are mindful of others.” He gave the twins a pointed look. They only gave him innocent smiles in return.

Salazar managed to hold back a sigh as he called for a house elf. Once the little creature arrived, he asked for the requested breakfast foods to be brought. He then led the way over to the heavy wooden tables that had been set up. “Come. Let us eat. There is fruit, fish, fresh breads, nuts, and a few other things.”

“That’s not much of a breakfast,” Charles spoke up. “Where is the bacon, sausage links? How about eggs? Beans?” He grinned to show there were no hard feelings. “We’re used to big breakfasts, you know. A full English breakfast with all of the fixings. Even in Romania on the reserve we’d have a full breakfast to keep our energy up.”

Salazar was silent as he looked the man over. He was obviously used to hard labour. He was a dragon tamer, was he not? He could see why the man would ask for a hearty breakfast. However. “You would be surprised at how filling this all is.” Salazar motioned for the others to join him. “Besides, in preparation for the ritual, I wanted to keep our meals simple and basic in an effort to cleanse ourselves.”

“You are lucky," Einar interrupted. "Northern women would not make fresh bread every morning. While some breads and oatcakes were made every so often, normally they might only make a large batch a few times a year. Each were shaped like a donut so they were easily strung up in their homes to use as needed. It was never eaten plain, but to make porridge or dip in soups.” Einar explained before he gave a smirk as he tore off a chunk of bread. “I remember a time when Godric thought he had broken his teeth on a chunk of dry bread as he had not soaked it to soften it first.”

Salazar had to hide his own smirk at the memory. He chose some smoked fish and some fruit before he tore a chunk of fresh bread for himself. He grabbed a mug and filled it with milk before he also served himself a small bowl of porridge. The bread was soft but habits were hard to break. Besides, it was how porridge was eaten. The house elves had provided cutlery but Salazar decided against it for his own meal and instead used the bread to scoop up porridge to eat.

“Will you tell us a bit about yourself, Herrick?” Salazar took a moment to process the question from Charles. He blinked once and then turned his gaze to the redhead. The man shrugged a bit and pressed some. “Will you tell us more about you? No one seems to know much about you, just that you suddenly appeared one day and asked for asylum at Hogwarts. Now you are a professor, Head of House, and have been entrusted to work on the school wards. Yet no one still knows much about you.”

The twins threw their arms into the air. “We trust him and will vouch for him,” they declared. “Zabini also seemed to like him. And Hermione has hexed Ronnie’kins for badmouthing Herrick!”

Salazar could not contain a light blush. He had not known about Granger and must the twins be so exuberant? “I am a private person,” he said. “A Slytherin, though I never studied here as such. I do not trust many to hold my secrets.” He sighed then as he tore a piece off of his fish. “However, I do promise you all that I only have the best intentions for the school. I want to save the students, especially those of my House.” he returned to his meal then and tried to keep conversation light. Charles seemed a bit put out that Salazar had evaded the question, but the twins quickly distracted him.

Once breakfast was finished, the tables were cleared. Babbling returned to her desk to work on her grading once more. Salazar noticed she cast a spell to ensure privacy that dampened sounds around her. Charles went off to sit next to the fire pit as a book appeared next to him where he sat. William wandered off to sit next to him and the two looked like they had struck up a conversation. Lugh dragged himself over to a corner and conjured up a bed with a thought to the Room. Einar, Salazar, Frederick, and George were left alone at the table. Frederick pulled out his wand and created a privacy bubble around them so they could not be eavesdropped on. “We have been doing some research into memory as you asked,” George started out. “We even purchased a muggle book through a shop run by a muggleborn.” Frederick leaned on the table. “We have learned that humans have three types of memory. Sensory, short-term, and long-term. Long term memory can also be broken further into explicit and implicit memory, episodic and semantic memory, and retrospective and prospective memory.” Frederick grinned. “It’s all rather interesting actually. And complicated.”

He crossed his arms. “Explicit memory deals with events and facts that you can consciously remember. Implicit memory is also known as procedural. These are your skills that you remember doing. Muscle memory of a sort. So, why you might know how to do something even though you have no memory of having learned it.”

George watched Salazar as he tried to gauge his reaction, but moved on. “Episodic memory is the memories of events that have happened to each person. So, memories of your first wand, or something you witnessed. Episodic memory seems to be the one you are having trouble with up to when you had your magical accident. Semantic memory is general knowledge, like the knowledge of magic.” Salazar mused that there had been a few times when he had known a spell that even Rowena could not find the existence of, but they had passed it off as obscure knowledge from wherever he had come from.

Frederick picked at a splinter of wood on the table. “Retrospective memory is the recollection of the past. Prospective is giving yourself a cue to remember something in the future. Your retrospective memory could be messed up too, but we are not experts. The mind is complex and there is so much more to it!” George nodded in agreement. “There are three ways to mess with memory. Muggles say physical or mental trauma can do it. Wizards have the Obliviate spell. We think we can rule out a massive obliviation spell. It seems to deal with most parts of memory except for some procedural memory like speech. So, you likely went through physical or mental trauma. Maybe both. Sorry.”

Salazar gave a small nod. “It does not help much, but it does explain some things,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “There are still so many questions though and some of it makes me wonder if I was even Salazar Slytherin to begin with. But then who am I?”

The twins quickly stood up and then plopped down on either side of Salazar. They squeezed the man into a hug, all the while they ignored Salazar’s rigid posture. “No. You are Salazar Slytherin. You might be someone else too, but you’re definitely Salazar too. You’re just extra special,” they nuzzled him, much to Salazar’s shock and dismay.

“Get off of me, you oafs,” Salazar hissed and tried to shake them off. The younger men laughed and then skittered away to break the privacy spell.

Einar smiled at the miffed look on Salazar’s face. “You seem to need a distraction. Would you like to play skáktafl with me?” Salazar hesitated only a moment, but then he gave a nod of his head. It had been some time since he had been able to play as Godric had not been very skilled in the game. It had been a large source of amusement and teasing from the Northmen, who had viewed skills at games almost as highly as they did skills in battles. While he was no master of the game himself, Salazar did well enough to at least provide a challenge to those who were masters of the game.

With a thought, Einar requested a board from the Room. Salazar moved to sit across from Einar and helped his friend to set up the pieces. Salazar took his turn first, moving a peð forward. As time went on, Salazar quickly became engrossed in the game. So when Charles plopped down next to him on the bench, Salazar could barely contain a startled jump.

“Looks like chess,” Charles announced as he looked over the board. “Not quite though. Half the moves are different and the pieces are cruder. Not to mention the pieces are not enchanted.”

Salazar gave Charles a small glare. But the word chess he had heard before. It pressed against some invisible wall in his head. Giant chess pieces had been in a dream. They had been strange, and yet somehow familiar. He had passed it off as strange dreams and merely thought that his mind had warped the game of skáktafl. But what if it had been a memory? What could it mean?

“Herrick?” The use of his name broke him out of his thoughts.

“Ah, I apologize,” he waved his hands towards the board. “This is called skáktafl. Einar taught it to me.” It was true enough. He named each of the pieces for Charles. “This is the kόngr,” he pointed towards the ‘king’. “It may move one space in any direction. The next is drottning.” This was the ‘queen’. “It may move only one space in diagonal. These two are bishkup. ” He motioned to the two ‘bishops’. “They may move to a second space in diagonal. Then these are the riddari.” He pointed to the two ‘knights’. “They move two spaces obliquely in a curved shaped path.” He held up a hand to mimic, making an ‘L’ with his thumb and finger. He pointed to the two ‘rooks’ then. “These are the hrókr. They move to any empty space in a straight line. These last eight pieces are the peð. They may only move forward one, but can capture pieces either forward or diagonal one space,” he explained as he motioned towards the ‘pawns’.

Charles leaned forward. “It sounds similar to chess, but some of the piece movements are different. I think I understand. Perhaps I could try once you are finished with your current game?”

Before Salazar could respond, Einar interrupted. “Why not teach him Hnefatafl instead, Herrick?” At Charles’ look of confusion, the elf smiled. “It is a Northman’s game. It translates to ‘the king’s game’. I taught it to Herrick as well and perhaps we can pass it along to you? It might be more entertaining than the game so close in nature to chess.”

Charles grinned and gave a nod. “If you are both willing to teach me, then I am up for learning,” he suggested. “But after you finish your game of, ah, skáktafl was it?”

Salazar gave a nod. “Yes, very good.” He turned back to the game board to finish it quickly as they had almost been done anyhow, as he figured. He lost. “I blame your many centuries of practice,” he said with a sniff as he banished the board with a thought. The board that appeared was very similar to the skáktafl board, but the pieces were different. There were sixteen pieces in black shaped like the peð pieces and eight in white. There was a single white piece shaped like the kóngr.

“In the center of the board, we place the kóngr,” Salazar said as he placed the piece. “The white peð are placed on each side of the square, to surround the kóngr.” He set them up as he spoke. “These are the defenders. The object is to get the kóngr safely to one of the perimeter squares. The center square is the throne and only the kóngr can pass through or land on this,” he explained to Charles. On the perimeter of the board, he placed three black peð in the center of the side. He then placed another black peð in front of the center peð. He did this for all four sides of the board. “These are the attackers. The goal is to capture the king.”

Salazar sat back then and let Charles examine the board. “I have seen larger boards with more pieces or slightly different setups, but this is the one I learned the game with. Now, all pieces move horizontally or vertically over any number of empty squares,” he started out his explanation of movements. “The only exception is the kóngr, which can only move up to three squares. No piece can move diagonally, however.” He paused for a moment to let it sink in before he continued. “Captures are done by flanking the opposition piece with two of your own. The kóngr may not help in capture. Also, it is possible to safely move a piece between two enemy peð. Once captured, a piece is removed from the board.” He paused again before he continued as he did not want to overwhelm Charles with information. “The capture of the kóngr is just a bit different as he must be surrounded on all four sides by enemy peð, or when the only move left is to the throne square.”

Though he still studied the board, Charles gave a slow nod. “I think I understand,” he stated. He looked up at Salazar then and grinned. “Do you mind, Herrick, if I play as the attacker? I would like to try my hand at it.” Salazar nodded in agreement. “Alright then. Who goes first?”

With a snort, Salazar motioned for Charles to make the first movement. He decided to go easy on the man as it was his first game. He did not mean he would underestimate Charles, but he would let the man get a handle on the game first. This benefited him in two ways. The first was that it would make Charles a better opponent and would make the game more interesting to play. The second benefit was that he could observe Charles and learn his thought patterns.

As they played, the other Weasley men eventually made their way over. William had followed soon after he had realized that his brother would not return to the fireside. The twins appeared, apparently to get in on the action and just be general nuisances of themselves. Salazar ignored them as best as he could, as he surprisingly enjoyed the game with Charles. The man did surprisingly well and gave Salazar a good challenge. Salazar had just settled his king triumphantly against the edge of the board when Lugh appeared as well, awake from his nap. “Hey. Looks interesting. Could you teach all of us?” Lugh asked as he settled down at the table with all the other men. Only Babbling had not made her way over.

Salazar gave an exasperated sigh and then motioned with his hands. “I will only explain this once. You all have seen my play with Charles, so I should not have to explain too in depth.” He explained the rules again before he conjured up more boards. The twins grabbed one and sat down cloes by to play against each other. Salazar thought their match might be interesting to watch because of how similarly the two men thought. William and Charles grabbed a board while Lugh went over to watch, saying he was not quite ready to play the game yet. Einar motioned to Salazar to play with him, as he give the man a look of amusement. “We seemed to have started a new trend,” he said.

“It is good to share such things,” Salazar said in reply. He set up their board then and made the first move.

After a good few hours of the quiet games, a house elf appeared by Salazar’s side. “Sirs. Elveses have lunch ready for yous,” he stated as he wrung his hands. Salazar blinked down at the creature in some surprise with his mind slow to catch up. The Room’s projection from his memories was very active. He might have subconsciously convinced himself he was back in Fyrkat, his home outside of Hogwarts. And the Northmen only had two meals a day. They had dagvberthr in the morning and nattverthr in the evening. He had subconsciously expected the same, so the house elf’s announcement startled him at first. It only lasted a moment though and he gave a nod of his head. “Yes, of course. Give us a moment and you may bring the food up,” he stated and then stood up so he could get everyone’s attention.

Salazar cleared his throat, which startled a few of the others who still played. Salazar actually felt pleased that they had all played this long. It was easy to get lost in it, forget about time as you focused on strategies and then demanded another game whenever you lost. Now, however, they would likely realize that they wanted to eat. “The house elves will be bringing the meal soon,” he told them. “So either finish up your games or set them off to the side to be dealt with later.”

A few temporary sticking charms kept the game pieces in place to ensure the continuation of the games once their meal was over. Salazar helped Charles move his board in time for their meal to appear spread out over the heavy tables. The slightly older man thanked him with a clap on the back and then they took their seats.

Babbling had joined the table when they moved the game boards and she now leveled a stern look at Salazar as they all started to load up their plates with food. “I have been meaning to ask. You speak parseltongue, a Dark trait. How are you related to you-know-who?”

Salazar breathed a sigh at the topic for conversation as he tore off a piece of his boiled pork. “Perhaps distantly. Perhaps not. The Ancient Greeks had their parselmouths as well. They are the ones who actually first created the parselrunes.” Which was all true enough, he suspected. “Parseltongue is Family Magick, but it has been known to skip generations if the blood thins. I had not been aware that it ran in my bloodline until it manifested in me.” Somehow, Salazar felt that he spoke the truth. He did not know how he knew this, but it did not feel like a lie crafted on his tongue. 

Salazar quickly shook himself from his thoughts and then turned his gaze to Babbling. “I could possibly share some blood with that man in some distant relation, but I refuse to acknowledge any kinship with him,” he spoke firmly. In fact, he had disowned the monster as he wanted absolutely no ties with him. Not that that particular event would come to light anytime soon if he had any say in it.  “I do not know what that man’s original intentions were, but I could never stand behind him. I will admit that I hold a certain sort of wariness for mundanes because it is so easy for them to hate what they do not understand or could never have for their own, but I do not hate them so generally. I do not hate or look down on mundane born magicals. They bring strength to our bloodlines. They may not have Family Magick, but once they marry into Pureblood lines their children can carry the Magick and become stronger. They bring innovation, though I will also say that we must hold onto our roots and I do not look favourably on those who would say we must abolish old rites just because they do not understand them. Still it does not mean that I hate them, only that I think they need to be educated and have explained why we believe what we do.”

Salazar sipped at his drink. “I do not want them dead. Without new blood, our magic will die out.” He set his goblet back down. “These are my thoughts on it.” There were a million and one more reasons to his beliefs, but something he was not willing to share so easily. He had already shared enough as it was, but he needed Babbling to trust him to an extent for the ritual to work. She did not have to like him, but at least she would be reassured he was not a Deatheater in disguise and that would be enough.

The twins exchanged a look before she grinned at Einar. They quickly grabbed his attention before they smiled sweetly as they spoke. Before they even got out their request, Salazar felt a sense of dread. Luckily, no one else seemed to understand the significance of the exchange. “Einar! Talk has gotten a tad bit boring. Regale us with a tale of your long life! You used to know the Founders of dear old Hogwarts, so why not one of those stories? I’m sure we would all love to know more!” Salazar was sure that Frederick and George were going to be the death of him. And Einar as well since he perked up at the suggestion.

“Yes, of course!” The elf ignored Salazar next to him as he pondered what he should tell them. “Ah, I know a good story,” he said finally. “Godric and Salazar saved me from a rather perilous situation. To repay the life debt I owed, I agreed to return to Hogwarts with them.” He gave a chuckle then. “So, I was there the day they finally opened the doors of Hogwarts as a school.”

“How old were the Founders when they opened Hogwarts?” This question came from Lugh. He had been very quiet thus far and Salazar suspected he was observing everything. He had been a Ravenclaw, as he had stated himself, but could very well have been a Slytherin as well.

Einar hummed thoughtfully. “I want to say they were all in their twentieth year, give or take. Salazar only roughly spent five years there before he was banished.” He smiled at the incredulous looks he was given. “At the time, a master was not required to teach children. Private tutors were often journeymen studying for their masteries and not Masters themselves. There was no Ministry of Magic to regulate education or the creation of schools like there is now. Both Helga and Rowena did later gain their masteries, but all were gifted in their chosen fields. So while they may not have been masters, they did not let that stop them from creating a school. The first children they gained were young and first needed to learn the basics. By the time they reached higher levels of learning, it would give the Founders time to actually earn their masteries. Although, it was a subject of contention for some of the pureblood parents.” He shook his head and took a drink. “Now then. In those days the first day of school was a week to the day of the final harvest festival. This was because the children of farming families needed to be home for the harvest. And as the Hogwarts Express did not exist yet, parents brought their children personally. Magical parents could bring their children through magical transportation to Hogsmeade. Mundane born children received instructions to Hogsmeade and there were inns for rent until the first day of school for anyone who might need them.”

((Flashback))

“The children will be coming today. The parents were told to arrive not much earlier than sunset and they may stay for the feast,” Rowena said as she smoothed out her skirts. She gave Einar a smile as she picked up a piece of bread and dipped it into her porridge to scoop it up. “I know both Godric and Salazar have pestered you, but you really should stay and teach,” Rowena said with a smile. “We could use some help here with the children. Master Reed is a great help and Master Rolf does what he can when he is here to help build the children’s wands, but we could always use more teachers. Especially a teacher with your proficiency in Runes.”

Einar smiled and inclined his head. “I leave tomorrow to see my family in Fyrkat, but when I return, I will give you an answer. So I will think about it.”

“That is all I ask,” Rowena thanked the elf.

“Where is Helga?” Einar asked then.

Rowena chuckled and shook her head. “Out in the gardens, of course. There are many mouths to feed and so she worries over the gardens constantly. We do grow many of our own potions ingredients as well. There are ones that we sell, like the ones Salazar and Godric were carrying when they came upon you, to help keep an income for the school. My father was nice enough to provide the broch and her grounds, but that was the extent of his contribution.” Rowena sighed softly and a small smile came to her lips. “We wanted to be able to teach any student, regardless of their places in life. That means not making them pay large fees. But a school is expensive to run. We do what we can. Salazar, I believe, has been selling potions he makes.”

Rowena cleared her throat then and she scooped up more of her porridge. “But I am getting off track here. Helga spends a lot of time out in the gardens, as I’m sure you have noticed. She does have some men and women from nearby Hogsmeade to help her with the gardening. And now there is Isa, the new groundskeeper. He is currently with her and he will be in charge of the garden as Helga will be busy with her classes and her infirmary.”

Eating his own meal, Einar gave a short nod. “Yes. I had seen the gardens and had guessed at their use. But you are the first to explain fully their purpose,” he said in amusement.

At his comment, Rowena rolled her eyes. “Yes, I can imagine. Salazar and Godric tend to forget such things.” She smiled fondly then as she thought about her two boys. “Once they set their minds on something, it is hard for them to see the other details around them. Of course, Salazar is better about it and hides it better. However, it is something that the both of them have in common.”

“They are brothers,” Einar responded. Rowena could only nod in agreement before the two finished their meals in silence.

Rowena stood then. “It seems Godric and Salazar will not be making an appearance. Salazar is likely with his potions, but it is hard to say what Godric is doing. Last minute lesson plans, I assume. I will have a house elf bring them both a meal.” She gave a short bow to Einar then. “It was wonderful speaking with you, Master Einar. If you would excuse me, however, I have some things I need to attend to before the children arrive. You are, of course, welcome to join us later at the feast.”

As he stood as well, Einar took Rowena’s hand and kissed it. “I appreciate the offer, Lady Rowena. I will be there.”

As the day passed, Einar spent his time in the library. In the mundane world, he knew that books were incredibly rare as each one had to be hand written. This could take months, even years, at a time depending on the level of work that went into it. In the wizarding world, books were more prevalent. Books were still handwritten, but there were dictations spells to make copying easier. It made the books cheaper than they would have been in the mundane world. Books and scrolls were also easier to preserve. Wizards knew the benefits of preserving knowledge and the four friends knew the benefits of sharing that knowledge with everyone.

Einar walked over to one of the shelves and pulled down one of the scrolls. Currently much of the library was empty and there looked to be many more books than there really were. Rowena had painstakingly copied each of the books more than once with dictation and copying spells. When asked, she said that this way more than one child would be able to search for the knowledge they needed. Einar had to agree with the logic.

Some time later, EInar looked up when Salazar appeared at his table. “Rowena requested that I fetch you. The first of the students should be arriving soon and she wished to know if you wanted to be there,” he spoke in Old Norse rather than the usual Gaelic.

As Einar banished the scrolls back to their places with a flick of his hand, he stood up with a smile. “Very good. You are learning the language very well,” he praised Salazar. “Keep practicing, my friend.” He went around the table before he joined Salazar in the walk down to the Great Hall. The two continued to converse in Einar’s mother tongue, with the elf correcting Salazar every so often. Salazar seemed to have a knack for languages though and so learned quickly. Godric still stumbled over many of the words and spoke in fragmented sentences, but was learning.

Once they reached the Great Hall, Einar pushed open the doors and looked out over to the Head table to see the others sitting there in conversation as they waited. The Great Hall had five tables, four long tables for the Houses and one at the head of the Hall for the teachers. The Hall could fit a great many people, but there were only a few places set at every table. Einar knew that they only had eight students expected. Many families had not wanted their children to go to Hogwarts. The idea of it was the first of its kind and many parents believed it would fail so they continued to have their children tutored at home. The four friends also did not want to accept any children younger than eleven summers. It was well proven that children of this age were only then starting to get a grip of their own magic. Any earlier and their magic was still not developed enough to be handled. They could not take students much older either as their magic would be too developed to be taught. They still opened the library doors to any who wished to read the knowledge contained, but classes would be useless to these magicals.

Einar knew that the four friends were a tad disappointed in the number of students that they had managed to convince to come, but he knew that they all knew that the turn out was to be expected. If they could prove to the wizarding people that Hogwarts could survive, then eventually they would be able to gain more and more students. They would also be able to gain more teachers as well. Already, it seemed Rowena was corresponding with a few others to try to get them to come.

As he sat down next to Salazar, Einar smiled. “A good evening to you all.” He noticed then that Helga was not actually with them. “Ah, where is the lady Helga?”

Godric was the one to reply as he held out a goblet to Einar and then poured one for Salazar. “Helga wished to be the one to greet the students at the gate and she will lead them in once they all arrive. She requested to be the one to do the Sorting as well.”

Einar took the goblet with a word of thanks and then leaned in eagerly. “Yes, how did you figure out how to do the Sorting?” He asked them. “Last I heard, you were having trouble with the rune web needed on the object.”

As he leaned in as well to join in on the conversation, Salazar smiled. “The runes you were teaching me. I was studying them in depth and I realized that if I combined them with parselrunes, like you helped us do with the castle wards, I could manipulate the matrix to make it stable.”

“What object did you end up using? Your original idea was a cloak, wasn’t it?”

“Godric’s idea and a stupid one,” Salazar said before he and Godric shared a look.

“The initial problem was how does one sort students by their traits? Asking a child outright, they may not know or they can lie to be placed where they want, not where would be best for them to nurture their growth,” Godric started. “So, of course there needs to be a spell to find these traits and is then able to sort them into the correct House that we have created. So, the other problem is, how does one design a spell to pick out such abstract traits and then place them in the correct House?”

With a chuckle, Salazar made a motion with his hand. “What we realized was that we needed an object that had a mind of its own, in a way. It needed the ability to skim the thoughts and memories of the children and then ascertain from these what their attributes are. There is a degree of intelligence needed, as well as the ability to learn.”

Einar gave a nod. They could have just chosen which students they wanted in their Houses, but from first glance how would they choose which students they wanted? He noticed Salazar give Godric an exasperated look then. “His first suggestion, of course, was that we use statues of ourselves as they would be here long after we are gone. They would use a form of Legilimency to read the surface thoughts and memories of each student.”

“I thought it was absolutely ridiculous,” Rowena cut in from where she had listened to the conversation. “But it did give me an idea. If we placed a portion of our own magic into the object we wanted to enchant, we could give it a sentience. From there, it would be able to use the Legilimency that Godric had suggested. It would also be able to learn and think for itself in a way.”

Salazar nodded to Rowena. “And the rune web that I created would help keep it all stable.” He gave a little smirk then. “And Godric was useful outside of just helping to power the spell. We used his hat. Or rather, while Godric and I argued over the idiocracy of using a cloak, the two lovely ladies stole Godric’s hat and used it for the spells. They laid most of the basic spellwork that we had agreed on. Later, I added on the rune matrix to keep the magic stable.”

“They did not even ask me!” Godric complained with a huff. He crossed his arms then before speaking grudgingly. “I do admit that it was a good idea. And the spell worked better than we could all hope for. The Sorting Hat has our intelligence to give it life and the ability to think for itself. And with it being a hat, well, that sort of speaks towards its own point.” Rowena smiled fondly at her two boys and shook her head.

The doors to the Great Hall suddenly creaked open. The adults at the head table immediately straightened in their seats and looked expectantly to the front. Helga came in first, a large smile on her gentle face. Behind her walked the eight students that had been invited. Einar was glad to see that they were all there. Behind them trailed the families that had decided to stay for the feast. All of them gazed upon the Great Hall in wonder.

As Rowena stood then, Salazar and Godric followed her lead. She smiled out at the children and spread her hands. “Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are all very pleased to have you here and it is our honour to be able to guide you in your studies.” She gave a little bow then. “For those of you who have not met me, I am Rowena Ravenclaw. You have met our dear Helga Hufflepuff.” She turned then and held out a dainty hand towards Salazar and Godric. “Please meet Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor. The four of us welcome you to our school.”

Godric grinned at the students, with one hand that rested against the polished wood of the table in front of him. “Well met! As we have already explained to you when you were first invited here, you all will be sorted into one of the four Houses with each of us as your Head of House. While you are here, they will be your family and will help you as you learn.” He turned then and gestured with his hand. “Meet Master Reed and Master Rolf. Master Reed will be taking responsibility of your learning in Astronomy. Master Rolf Ollivander will be teaching wand lore as he helps each of you build your own wand.”

After he gave the students a short bow, Salazar looked over each of them. “Before we go any further, I suggest that we do your sorting so you may sit at the table that will become your family for the remainder of your time here at Hogwarts. The four Houses are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and my own Slytherin. In Ravenclaw are those whose passion is knowledge. In Gryffindor are the brave of heart. In Hufflepuff are the loyal and diligent souls. In Slytherin I take the ambitious and those who forge their own way.” He nodded to Helga then. “So, without further ado. Helga, if you would please?”

Helga beamed and drew her wand from the sleeve of her pale yellow underdress. She flicked it and conjured up a simple stool while she then swirled her wand so a pointed leather hat drifted over to her from where it had rested on a table near the side door. She tucked her wand back into her sleeve and then smoothed out her dark yellow dress.

“What an odd hat,” Einar whispered to Salazar.

The man chuckled in response. “It is, isn’t it? The newest fashion for men in the wizarding community and the noble families. You would not find anything quite like it among the mundanes. Godric found it rather fetching, but I thought it silly.” He gave Einar a sly smile. “But it looks well as a Sorting Hat, do you not agree?”

Einar only chuckled and turned his attention back to Helga as she pulled a scroll from out of a pouch at her belt. “Jameson,” she called. A shy little boy scurried forward after an encouraging smile from Helga. She coaxed him onto the stool and then gently set the Hat on his head. Einar spotted the boy’s flinch as the Hat obviously started to speak with him. After several minutes of deliberation, a rip near the seam opened up and the Hat called out, “Slytherin.”

Salazar stood back up and motioned with his hand. “Welcome to Slytherin, young master Jameson. Find a seat at the far table there. Your family is welcome to join you.” Sadly, no family joined Jameson.

“Alaric,” Helgo called out next. A tall boy with a sunburned nose approached the stool and sat down. The Hat did not take long to call out, “Gryffindor.” Godric was quick to greet the boy and send him to the correct table.

Theophano Innes was a young girl who quickly earned her place in Hufflepuff. Sigrid joined Ravenclaw. Salazar gained another student in his House with Everett. A boy named Athelred Sagar joined Gryffindor along with another boy named Eadric. The last student was called Leofric Notleigh and he joined Hufflepuff.

Once all of the students were seated at their new tables along with their families, Helga gently levitated the Hat back over to its spot and then banished the stool. She took her seat at the Head table as Rowena stood up. “It is wonderful to see you all here,” she started out. “Before we start the meal, I just want to remind the parents that tonight we are providing you all with rooms to spend the night. You are welcome to join us to break our fast just before dawn tomorrow morn.” She gave a gentle smile to the students that eased her stern face. “Tomorrow will be spent getting to know the school’s layout so you will know where all of your classes will be. There will also be a tour of the grounds.” She spread out her hands. “For now, please eat.”

As she sat down, the few house elves that they had in the kitchen used their special brand of magic to make the feast appear on the table. There were gasps as the tables became laden with more food than several of the students had likely ever seen. Helga had insisted on a grand feast to welcome the students and Godric had backed her up. He had even helped her in the gardens to prepare, when he had not been working on other things. Godric had also been the one to hunt the wild boars that were the main feature of the feast. The boar was cooked in a stew with the vegetables that Helga had grown in her gardens, or had harvested from the nearby forest. The tables also carried breads and cheese. Einar knew that there were honey cakes prepared for later as well.

Once the meal was over, Salazar stood up as the tables cleared. “Families of the students, please take the time to say goodnight to your children. Master Reed will then show you the way to your sleeping quarters for the night. Students, once you are finished with your goodnight, please follow your Head of House to your dormitory.”

Einar decided to tag along with Salazar. Little Jameson came up to Salazar first. He was a quiet boy and kept his head hung as the two waited for Everett to join them. Everett had a large family that had come to see him off to school. He had one elder brother that had been too old to teach, but several younger siblings that would join the school once they were old enough. His mother was a witch and his father was a mundane. It was an unusual match where Everett’s father had accepted his wife and children’s magic so easily.

Salazar had tried to engage Jameson in conversation while they waited for Everett, curious about what the boy looked forward to the most. Jameson answered the questions quietly, head still hung. It pained Salazar to see his timidness, but the Hat had placed him in Slytherin for a reason. Salazar would do everything he could to help the child blossom into a truly wonderful wizard. A few minutes later, Everett ran up to the two. Salazar nodded to the two boys and made a motion with his hand. “Follow me, then. The house elves will have already brought your things to your dormitory,” he explained to them as he led them through the Great Hall and through the doors. He glanced behind him to make sure that they could keep up and then headed towards the dungeons. “I will be teaching you potions,” he told the two boys as they walked. “Tomorrow you will be receiving a tour of the school, just as Rowena said, as well as a list of your classes.”

Once they were in front of the entrance to the common room, Salazar stopped and turned to his two students. He smiled at their looks of confusion. After all, it was a plain stone wall. Salazar motioned to one of the charmed torches on the wall. “See that wall sconce there? It has a snake etched along its length. It is the only one down this corridor. So, it will mark the span of wall that hides the commonroom. Remember, no other students are allowed inside. If you have friends from other Houses, you must visit with them elsewhere. This is to be your safe place if you need it.” He paused then as he glanced between the two boys. They thankfully both nodded that they understood. “Very good. Now, the password for the dormitories will change every fortnight. For now, it is ‘Slytherin’ to make it easier on you both as you settle in.”

He spoke the password to the wall and then ushered the two boys inside. Einar stepped through as well, much to Salazar’s amusement. He did not try to stop the elf as he figured that Einar could be an honorary Slytherin if he so chose. With a shake of his head, Salazar descended the steps down into the sunken commonroom. The windows that looked out into the loch caused a somewhat eerie glow, but the room was still cozy in a way. It was richly furnished and he hoped that the boys would feel at home while they were there.

Salazar motioned over to one of the arches. “To the left are the boys’ dorms.” He looked back over to them then. “I know this all must be so overwhelming to you both. So, for tonight, I only wish to welcome you to Hogwarts and to Slytherin House. Tomorrow we will go over the school rules along with everything else. For now, you may settle yourselves in. This will be your home while at Hogwarts. Go on and explore the Slytherin Dungeons. I only ask that you do not explore the rest of the school until tomorrow.” He pointed out one of the many snake motifs. “If you ever have need of me, just find one of the snake carvings. They will come find me.”

Salazar gave them a smile. “I am sure it has been a long day for the both of you. Go on and find your beds. And do try not to stay up too late talking,” he teased them lightly. “Call for me if you need anything, and you can always find Einar here as well. He is a good friend.” Salazar then took his leave after Einar gave the boys a short greeting. The elf left behind his friend.

“Is it alright to leave them like that?” Einar inquired as he followed Salazar down to his chambers.

Salazar looked to Einar and nodded. “They do not yet know me, nor trust me. I cannot push my presence upon them else they close themselves off from me completely. They need time to adjust. However, they do know that I am there for them if they have any troubles.” He paused before he gave Einar a flash of a smile. “I also do have wards up as well, just in case. They will be alright. And, if not, I can be there quickly to aid them.”

He stopped outside his door and did not invite Einar inside. “We should rest as well. I will see you in the morning then? I hope that you might join me during the tour of the castle. The students, I think, would enjoy your presence.”

As he gave in, Einar promised to be there and then said his goodnight to Salazar. He too then left to return to his chambers for the night.

((End Flashback))

Salazar gave Einar a small smile as he finished up with his story. The twins looked a bit put out that the story was not over the top and full of shenanigans, but he was sure they would try to wheedle one out of Einar eventually.

“I have a question,” William spoke up and broke Salazar from his musings. “Why did only a few of the students have surnames?”

Einar chuckled. “Surnames were not common during the 10th century. At least not for mundanes. In this way, the wizarding world was actually ahead of the game. From what I understand, the Romans fluctuated between the popularity of family names. When house elves were brought to Briton, so was the practice of using family names among the wizarding families. Theophano Innes, Athelred Sagar, and Leofric Notleigh were all from pureblood families. The others were not. However, as they became part of the wizarding world, mundane born children would often give themselves surnames to fit in with the other purebloods.”

“So the founders were all purebloods?” William inquired then.

After he shook his head, Einar sipped at his drink. “Both Helga and Rowena were from Pureblood families,” he said then. “Salazar was not aware of his family. It is possible that he might have been part of a wizarding family, but he never found out from what I know. As for Gryffindor, well, he was mundane born. I do not believe that Gryffindor was a family name. It was simply his name. However, like other mundane born wizards, it later did become a hereditary name. He passed it onto his son.”

“A son?” Salazar could not help but butt in, surprised to hear that Godric had had a son.

Einar gave him a glance out of the corner of his eye and gave a nod. “Yes. About a year after Salazar left, I heard news that Godric had had a son. I do not know much about it, but I do know that he named the boy after his friend. Salazar Gryffindor was the boy’s name.” Salazar nearly choked at that little revelation. What in the name of Hel was Godric playing at by naming a son after him?

Standing up abruptly, he shook his head. “Pardon me. I think I would like to take a quick nap,” he stated as he turned away. Salazar made himself comfortable on a carved wooden bed that popped up at a thought in a corner. Salazar used his wand to cast a bubble around the bed so that it would block out the sound, but would alert him if anyone approached. Once he laid down on the bed, another thought had a cloth unfurling from the ceiling to give him privacy from their gazes.

“What happened?” Lugh questioned in confusion.

Einar sighed and shook his head. “Best not to disturb him. Did you finish your game?” He asked then as he tried to draw the conversation away from Salazar. He should have known better than to say anything, but Salazar had asked about the boy. Einar never noticed the twins slip away from the table and into Salazar’s private nook. Salazar immediately had his wand pointed at them, but they ignored it as they kicked off their shoes and crawled into the bed.

“What are you doing?” He hissed at them, his dark jade eyes flashing with the silver the ocular correction potion had given him.

“Making you a sandwich,” they remarked humorously, but their voices were soft as they lay down on either side of Salazar and wrapped their arms around him. They ignored the man’s protests and shared a private smile when Salazar finally breathed out a huff before he settled down.

“Why?” He managed to ask as he enjoyed the warmth much against his will. He liked to believe that he was not a very tactile person. He did not enjoy hugs and he did not feel the need to constantly initiate innocent touches whenever he spoke to others. Yet, this was not the first time he had been forced into a situation like this. Godric had been tactile as well so he had a definite tendency to always touch in some manner. It was how he showed comfort, or just about every other emotion. Salazar had even found himself in Godric’s bed once after the man had found him wandering the grounds of the school aimlessly at night after a nightmare he had refused to admit to having dreamt. Godric had been his brother. A big brother that he loved even if they sometimes bickered and Salazar had never actually wanted. The warmth of the man’s embrace had been welcoming, if grudgingly at times. And then Godric had betrayed him.

Salazar’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when one of the twins, Frederick as he was the one in front of him, pressed a kiss against his nose. Frederick smirked at his absolutely flabbergasted expression. Salazar’s mouth flopped open and he wasn’t sure if he had ever been so speechless in his entire known life! He sputtered, unable to say anything.

Frederick’s expression softened then. “You’re thinking too loud, Sal,” he said softly. “I can see it in your expression. Whatever you’re thinking about… just let it go.”

George’s arms tightened around his waist and a soothing hum met his ears. Salazar couldn’t stop himself from relaxing back into the hold. He sighed then and closed his eyes, as he let himself give in just a little bit. Deep down inside of him, he knew that these two would not hurt him. Did not mean that he had to open his heart to them, but he could allow himself to relax a little bit at least. With that thought, and promises that he would hex them if they tried anything, Salazar let himself drift off into sleep.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

George’s arms tightened around his waist and a soothing hum met his ears. Salazar couldn’t stop himself from relaxing back into the hold. He sighed then and closed his eyes, as he let himself give in just a little bit. Deep down inside of him, he knew that these two would not hurt him. Did not mean that he had to open his heart to them, but he could allow himself to relax a little bit at least. With that thought, and promises that he would hex them if they tried anything, Salazar let himself drift off into sleep.

Chapter Ten

“Little brother… Wake up. Come on, Sal, we have to get going…” The voice cut through his dreams. It disturbed his sleep and roused Salazar quickly.

“Do not call me that ridiculous nickname,” he groaned as he opened his eyes that were still heavy from sleep. “And I am fairly certain that I am older than the both of you.” He received an unrepentant grin in response, a note of something in the redhead’s eyes before it disappeared just as quickly. Salazar had to wonder if he had imagined it. He shook it off to focus on more pressing matters as he slipped out of bed then and wished the bed away with a thought to the Room. A slight twitch of his lips was the only betrayal of his amusement as the twins dropped to the floor at the sudden disappearance of the bed and emitted some rather colourful curses. His smile widened a moment as he raised his hand to dispel the privacy ward.

“I still do not like it,” he heard Babbling grouse. It appeared that everyone had begun to gather from whatever they had been up to while he had napped. The others stood uncomfortably as Babbling ranted. “Parseltongue was likely used in the wards because of Slytherin, but it is still Dark no matter what he says about Family Magick! Just the thought of it makes me feel uneasy.” Salazar kept a scowl off his face, but he was not pleased that the professor spoke behind his back and still dwelled on his ability. She could not have spoken her reservations to his face? Well, now was the time.

“Tell me,” Salazar spoke before anyone else could. His voice made Babbling’s shoulders tense up as she had been caught and Salazar felt a vicious sense of victory. “Tell me, Professor Babbling, what is the difference between the magic that we label as Light and Dark?” It felt like a point that he had to make over and over to witches and wizards of the current age, something he wished that one day he would not have to explain anymore.

Babbling was forced to turn then to face him as Salazar had made no attempt to walk around the table where she sat. “They are opposites, of course. Light magic is inherently good and Dark can only be used for evil.” She spoke with such certainty that it made him want to sigh.

“Wrong,” Salazar spoke sternly. “Magic is magic. Wild magick is inherently neutral. Only the witch or wizard can be good or evil, not the magic. What we label as light spells can still be used for evil deeds.” He tilted his head back slightly, as he straightened his shoulders to a rather rigid stance. “The difference between Light and Dark spellwork is sacrifice. It is true that Dark magic can be addicting if one is not careful, that it can be more easily used for evil ends because of how powerful it is.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “When a witch or wizard uses Dark spells, it requires sacrifice. Blood magic is one notable example where the sacrifice is the obvious. Both types of spells draw on a wizards’s core and the earth’s wild magic. However, Dark spells will often draw more on the magic inside a wizard’s core, while Light spells are more of a conduit for the wild magic in the earth. And the orientation of a magical core is based upon how easily a certain magic will come to a magical. Dark cores need less of a physical sacrifice, but do not have all of the necessary conduits for earth magic so, as a result, Natural spells come harder.” That was what Light magic had used to be called. Natural magic.

Babbling opened her mouth to argue further, but Salazar cut her off. “You yourself fall more towards Neutral then to any extreme of what magicals like to call Light, as your chosen field falls on the balance of magic. Most mages fall closely on either side of Neutral if not right in the center. Very rarely does any witch or wizard actually fall into the extremes.” He shook his head. “Just remember, magic is bent by the will of the caster, not by magic itself. A skin flaying curse can just as easily be used by healers to remove ruined skin if properly controlled. Several studies of magic, and not just Dark Arts, are extremely dangerous, I will not deny that. However, that is just the nature of powerful magic. Trying to wield such powerful natural sources is dangerous. Schools of study, of thought, can be dangerous. But the magic itself is inherently neutral.” He narrowed his eyes at Babbling. “But, my final point is this. Would I be trying so hard to protect Hogwarts if I was in some way aligned with the Dark Lord?”

He straightened his shoulders and quickly gathered himself. “Professor Babbling, you do not have to like me. I merely ask that you trust me enough to do this,” he said before he made a motion with his hand. With a mental prod to the Room, the far wall shimmered before two wooden doors appeared. “Professor Babbling, you may take the door to the right. You will find a bathhouse with all of the materials you will need to cleanse yourself. You will also find a simple white hooded ritual dress along with a pair of sandals.” He looked over all of the gathered individuals. “Remember to refrain from any magic once you leave the bath.” He motioned towards a row of small lockers that had suddenly appeared. “You may leave your wands here,” he told them. He placed his own wand in a locker and closed it. It would not open again until he pressed his hand against the wood.

Salazar turned on his heel then and led the men the way to the baths. He pushed open the door and stepped inside where he was immediately met by steam from the bathwater. As the others followed him into the baths, Salazar moved to the side and removed his clothing. He folded it neatly on the provided shelving and then made his way over to the large steaming pool. The other men followed his lead, though the twins did not neatly fold their clothes as Salazar did. The dark haired man rolled his eyes, but then focused on the bath. He knelt down next to the bath where there was a large copper bowl filled with an assortment of herbs he had prepared the day before. Now, he whispered softly as he ran his fingers along the rim of the bowl to bless the herbs and draw out their cleansing properties. He stood with the bowl in his hand then and took a handful. He threw it out over the water and repeated the motion until the bowl was empty so the herbs dissolved into the water.

“Be sure to wash yourselves thoroughly,” he reminded them as he turned to the group. As they approached, the twins responded with playful affirmations. Salazar watched them warily, but he was still not prepared when they pushed him unceremoniously into the pool. Salazar emerged moments later as he sputtered with a promise of retaliation in his eyes. But he let it go for the moment and instead gave the twins a dark look before he retreated to a corner of the pool so the others could join him.

He could hear George and Frederick roughhousing in the water, but ignored them to focus on his own bathing. “What are the runes around your arms and thighs?” A voice asked suddenly though, to which Salazar turned his head. He found Charles as he stood nearby and washed a chest covered in burn scars. The man’s blue eyes were focused on the dark bands that surrounded both of Salazar’s forearms.

Salazar brushed his fingers through his wet hair and untangled the braids it had been in. “A short number of years ago, I partook in a ritual to give me some control over wandless magic,” he explained. “It uses my arms as a focus rather than a wand, but is incredibly draining. I use it as a last resort in the case I might ever lose my wand in a duel. The bands around my thighs are just for extra grounding.” It also gave him the advantage for various rituals, but he was not about to give away all of his secrets. He had far more control over wandless magic than he admitted to, but purposefully misled the men that listened. It was the truth that magic like that was draining though and so was not something he used willy-nilly. Especially on a large scale.

Salazar dipped beneath the water, then ran his fingers through his untangled hair. When he resurfaced again, he ran his hands over his beard to squeeze out the extra water. It needed a bit of a trim, he decided. But that would have to wait. Clean enough, Salazar climbed out of the water and picked up a linen towel to dry himself. He used a bone comb to brush out his hair and then pulled it back in a simple braid. His beard was neatly combed next before he dressed in the loose tunic and trousers that had been bleached of every impurity. The other men would dress in the same, Babbling in a gown of the same material.

When he turned around, the others were in various stages of dress. Salazar silently slipped on a pair of woven straw sandals and waited for the other men to finish. Once they were all dried and dressed, the group stepped out together into the main room again to find that Babbling waited for them. She sniffed and turned her head away, but Salazar ignored her. She might not like him, but she would understand him enough to be able to do the ritual. If barely, but it would have to be enough.

A gentle request to Hogwarts had a third door that popped up between the two doors that led to the bathhouses. It opened to the outside, which was a definite perk of being loved by the sentience of Hogwarts. He could hear grumbles from the twins, but ignored them. “Come. We must get moving,” Salazar said as he picked up a basket from a table and handed it off to Einar. He let the elf then lead the silent trek to the crystal clearing.

Once they reached the clearing, Einar came to a stop and held out a copper capped horn to Salazar. The black haired wizard took it with a nod and stepped up to the archway. He looked to the others and then he stepped through into the circle alone. He made his way to the altar then brought the horn to his lips where he drew a breath and blew a long blast. This was the beginning of the ritual, to call to the members of the gathering. The first four to enter - Einar, Charles, Lugh, and Frederick - carried burning mugwort. They strode to the four cardinal points and waited for the rest to fill in the circle. Once all had joined, Salazar gave another short blast of the horn before he slung its band across his chest. As the horn’s blast still rang in the air, Einar stuck his mugwort bundle in a bowl on the ground that had already been prepared the day before. “I call upon Odinn in the North,” he intoned as the smoke continued to waft upwards.

Charles copied Einar’s motion. “I call upon Thor in the East.”

Lugh followed next. “I call upon Tyr in the South.”

Frederick went last with, “I call upon Heimdallr in the West.”

Those who were not fluent in the language had obvious accents, but their words were clear from plenty of practice. The burning mugwort’s smoke seemed to swirl about their ankles and upwards, cleansing the circle of anything that lingered.

Salazar raised his hands then. “We call for Odinn.”

“Aldaföðr.”

“Fjölnir.”

“Forni.”

“Hávi.”

“Sanngetall.”

“Sviðurr.”

“Veratýr.”

“Váfuðr.”

Each called one of the kennings of Odinn. It was certainly not all of them, but each name had been carefully chosen for the purpose of the ritual. It was from Odinn that the knowledge of runes had first appeared to man, so his blessing would be beneficial. Einar then pulled out a sealed drinking horn from the basket and broke the wax seal. He took a drink and then passed the horn to his left. The horn passed around the circle until it reached the elf once more. He held it out to Salazar who drained the last bit of the specially brewed mead. The drinking of the mead tied them all together symbolically as friends and family, like a war party might drink together. It did not necessarily need to be mead, or even alcohol in general, but it was a drink that Salazar was familiar with.

The next part of the ritual was the hardest part and one they had practiced many times. If they failed, they would not get another chance so soon. So, with a deep breath, Salazar passed out a ritual knife to each of the group as he greeted each one familiarly to keep the ties close. He took his place back at the altar then and removed the selenite crystal from the soft bag it had been in while in the basket. He settled it down on the base upon the altar before he lifted up his own copper knife. “Fehu,” he intoned and traced the rune in the air where it burned with visible light and soared towards the crystal. With the first rune spoken, each person in the circle began to recite their string of the rune web and traced each one in the air with their knife. Salazar’s bound the web together, punctuated by the parselrunes that needed to be embedded throughout.

Their chants went on for hours through the night, the mead they had drunk crucial to keep their voices clear and unbroken. When the chants finally came to a close, they all ended on the same rune. The crystal glowed an almost blinding blue before it settled to a more manageable, but no less brilliant, blue shine. Einar brought forth another drinking horn and passed it around the circle as he had before. Once all had taken a drink, they buried their copper knives blade first into the soil. It was an extra step Salazar had added to the ritual to help bind the new ward stone to the rest of the ward web since it would give the crystal more focal anchors through the copper knives used to inscribe the runes.

As he spoke the next words of thanks to Odinn for his rune knowledge and his blessing, Salazar could feel the heavy weight of the wards start to settle upon his shoulders, yet somehow the air around them felt clearer to breathe. It felt lighter and made mirth bubble up in his chest, enough that he had to hold back a joyful laugh. He was not the only one if the smiles the others had were anything to go by. Salazar closed his eyes and smiled to himself as he heard Frederick speak. “I thank Heimdallr in the West.”

“I thank Tyr in the South,” spoke Lugh.

“I thank Thor in the East,” spoke Charles.

Einar finished with, “I thank Odinn in the North.” Salazar brought the horn from around his chest and brought it to his lips. He gave a long blast then and dismissed the circle completely. One by one they stepped from the circle of trees, Salazar at the forefront. And as he stepped from the circle of trees, it was as if a great weight had fallen from his shoulders. The ritual had been successful and so the weight of the wards had been far too noticeable. It was a relief to be free of that weight, as well as carry the solace that the ritual had worked.

“She is happy,” a musical voice spoke from a short distance above him. It was light and airy, almost whimsical. When Salazar looked up, his first impression was that of an elf. The woman that sat in the tree bough was small and willowy, though shapely. Her golden hair shined like the precious metal in the pale light of the sunrise. Her expression was soft upon a dainty face, almost elven in nature. But her eyes. The blue was as clear as the morning sky and sparkled with knowledge. Perhaps not elven at all, but a vision of…

“Lady Sif?” He had never seen such a beautiful hue of gold before and the young woman before him certainly bore a striking resemblance to the goddess.

But the woman gave a light giggle in response and jumped to the ground from her perch. “Flattered, but no,” she said as she practically skipped over to Salazar. She almost looked as if she floated with bare feet that barely touched the ground. “You do not know me, though I know you.” Her eyes glittered with mischief. She then looped her arm around his and smiled up at him. “I am Luna Lovegood. Escort me to breakfast? You must be famished.”

The strange woman led him off to the castle and did not even stop to wait for the others as they stepped from the circle. Salazar found himself bemused by the woman, but not threatened. Her eyes held something hidden, but no ill will towards him. “Who are you?” He asked finally while he indulged her and did not push her off of his arm.

“Völva,” she said simply, but her eyes once again glittered in that strange way. “But only the nargles know.”

The word nargle was foreign to him, but Salazar filed it away for later. “You are young for a völva,” he stated carefully, though teasingly. She only smiled knowingly at him. “But then seiðr was more of a woman’s practice if we were to follow the oldest traditions and there were much fewer seiðrmaðr than völva,” Salazar continued. “And this is what they would have called me. Seiðrmaðr.” The laugh she gave him warmed him, so brought a small smile to Salazar’s lips against his own bidding.

Though she had not put any thought to the others, Salazar paused and turned to the others who were not far behind. “Go eat and then rest,” he told them. “Take comfort that we succeeded and that the wards are stronger than ever. Hogwarts will continue to stand. You all have my deepest appreciation.” He gave a slight bow before he straightened again. To the völva woman, he gave a polite smile. “Would you care to break your fast with me in my quarters, Miss Lovegood? I am too exhausted to take a meal in the Great Hall.” He thought too that she would want to speak with him in private by the way she had come to him.

She gave him a knowing smile in return. “I would be honoured. And do call me Luna.”

“Luna, then,” Salazar agreed. “Please, call me Herrick.”

“Herrick. It suits you,” Luna said airily as they walked away from the group. “They remember your name, you know. The village does. Once the world knows you, the village will be happy to stand behind you.”

Salazar immediately frowned. “So they will know and my past will come to light. Will it be soon?” It worried him. His House still had such a sullied reputation, one that would take years of work before he even could think to put thought into revealing his true name. Yet if it was out of his hands, his identity could be made known before the world was ready to accept him. Still, if what Luna said was true, then Fyrkat could be a place of refuge. It also meant that Fyrkat was still there, had not disappeared to the flow of time. That, at least, brought him comfort.

“One day, yes. It will happen whether it be days, months, or years,” Luna said as she broke through Salazar’s thoughts. He gave a nod in response to her, while he thought to himself that he would need to be careful until such time he was ready to reveal himself. He would also need to work with the knowledge that it would one day come about whether or not he wanted it. “You have friends by your side, Herrick. You will not be abandoned,” Luna’s sweet voice broke through his thoughts once more. He could only give a polite smile in response.

Salazar pulled open the door to the Room of Requirement then. The door would automatically disappear once all had made it through so he did not bother to stay to make sure the rest all made it inside. He could see the twins as they whispered between themselves, but decided not to let it bother him. He could always wheedle it out of them later if he needed to, if he thought it had anything to do with him. Instead, Salazar paused just long enough to say a farewell to Einar and collect his wand from its place of safekeeping in the Room. He then led Luna through the still quiet halls to his chambers. After he had invited the young woman to make herself comfortable, Salazar excused himself to change into fresh clothing.

He called first for a house elf to request their morning meal and then went to wash his face in the bathroom. A quick spell trimmed his beard and tamed his wayward locks, plaiting it simply along his back. As he ran his fingers through his beard, Salazar looked himself over in the mirror. Sleep should take care of the dark circles beneath his eyes, but that could wait until he finished his conversations with Luna.

When he returned to the room, dressed in a simple tunic and pants, it was to find Luna had seated herself cross legged on the couch. She hummed an unknown tune and braided her hair as he entered. She gave him a sweet smile that he answered with a small smirk of his own. She had that ethereal quality that he knew of in Einar. Once more he had to wonder if she had elven blood. “My mother’s grandmother was half elven,” Luna said offhandedly. “It is written all over your face.” She offered up next in explanation as she glanced at him, once she saw the quirk of his eyebrow in an unspoken question.

“And just as straightforward when you want to be,” Salazar drawled back. His words pulled a giggle from the blonde haired woman.

She smiled just a bit wider then and gave him a wink. “One has to drive amusement somewhere and, besides, one can’t make it too easy.”

“Yes, völva are known for their riddles,” Salazar said in amusement as their breakfast appeared on the table before the couch. He took a seat on the nearby chair before he gathered up a bowl of porridge for himself. “So, völva, tell me now your riddles.”

The young woman gave another giggle. “You’ve caught me,” she said as she picked up a bowl of porridge for herself but did not elaborate right away. Luna stirred her porridge once before she scooped up some of it. She gave a little hum as she made sure to lick every last bit from the spoon before she finally spoke. “The curious thing about humans is that there is much around them that they cannot see. And because they cannot see, they do not believe. But then also they do not see because they do not want to see. The truth is right in front of them, but they ignore it.” She gave Salazar a significant look, but Salazar could not make sense of it. Did she speak of his true identity as one of Hogwarts’ founders? He doubted she would answer him. The bell-like laugh she gave only proved his suspicion. He could see her eyes glitter with mischief once more.

Abruptly, however, her expression sobered and she ran her spoon through her porridge once more. “The Dark Lord searches to turn the tides to him. For too long our world has rested in a stalemate,” Luna whispered. “What he seeks is beyond the river Gjöll from where it springs forth at Hvergelmir to the bridge Gjallarbrú, protected by Móðguðr. He has bypassed her toll. Yet sight to him is blurred and hard to predict. His mind and purpose is unknown, even to the Gods themselves. But his travel takes him on paths far North. He cares little for the old Gods of any people, so for him to seek out their realms is concerning,” Luna spoke gravely, her eyes distant. She blinked then and focused on Salazar. “The Dark Lord seeks out Helheim, but it cannot be Seen why.”

Salazar grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fantastic,” he drawled out. He turned his eyes to Luna then, his gaze full of calculation. “Why come to me? Why not tell the Headmaster?” He had the horrible feeling he would not enjoy the answer.

The smile that Luna gave was knowing. “You are marked in the favour of the Gods. Sowilo. The Gods have watched over you all your life. Great things are expected of you. You have experience of the glory of the old religions and you honour them. You have knowledge that very few retain in modern times.”

“Sowilo? No,” Salazar denied in an instant, not about to entertain the impossibilities that such a thing could herald. Luna stared at him steadily but did not reply, so Salazar focused on what was more immediately important, “You want me to travel to Helheim to search for what the Dark Lord has planned,” Salazar deadpanned.

“I want nothing of the sort,” Luna said sweetly. “But I have Seen it.”

“Who wants it is not of importance, merely the fact that I shall be making my way to Helheim.” Salazar sighed as he set his empty bowl aside. “Yes. Very well. I will make the arrangements then.”

((Page Break))

And make arrangements he did. Luna offered to substitute his classes from him as well as tend to his Head of House duties. Salazar reluctantly agreed only after he had tested her abilities in the lab and had received permission from the Headmaster. She did more than satisfactory, but he still felt hesitant to leave his students for any amount of time. The hardest task, however, was to ask for the Headmaster’s approval. Salazar felt reluctant to divulge his destination, convinced that Dumbledore might misunderstand his intention or try to send a companion along with him. The latter would be the more likely scenario and one he wished to avoid at all costs. He did not want to have to explain his reasoning. He might even be laughed off. For believers in magic, mages could be extraordinarily lacking in faith. That being that they didn’t believe in what they couldn’t see or have proof of being possible.

In the end, Salazar told Dumbledore that he needed the leave to go on an important pilgrimage. It was not technically a lie as the definition of a pilgrimage was ‘a religious journey or mission’. Helheim was a sacred realm as it existed apart from Midgard. It was one of the places of afterlife for those who believed in its existence. He had been sent on this journey by Luna, who acted as mouth to the gods for this instance. The journey could affect the war so he could not refuse it in good conscience. Luckily, though Dumbledore did not seem to have any practices of his own, the headmaster seemed to understand his reasons even if he appeared reserved over it. Salazar could explain his reasons once he returned and had answers for everyone.

So the evening after they had completed the ritual, Salazar found himself outside Hogwarts’ gates with a pack shrunk to the size of a coin purse and hung about his neck. Einar was by his side, his face creased with worry. He spoke in Old Norse then so that they would not be understood if overheard. “Móðguðr will want payment in blood once you reach the bridge Gjallarbrú, as the legends say. That is to say that only the dead may cross. Hermoðr refused the toll and made it across, but rode upon Sleipnir’s back. What do you intend on?”

Salazar fiddled with the ring around his fingers that was to be used as a portkey. “I will be taking a brief rest in Fyrkat. I do not intend on revealing myself to them yet, but I am in need of a horse.”

“A horse? Your journey will be long. Even Sleipnir himself took nine long nights,” Einar commented with a frown.

At this, Salazar gave a sly smile. “That is what magic is for, my friend. I know a rather crafty piece of spellwork and runework that will let my steed borrow the speed of Sleipnir. As for the toll of blood… well, I will find a way. I have no wish to join the dead and add my blood to the waters of Gjöll.”

Einar was quiet before he removed the cloak that was about his shoulders. “The nights of the North are long and cold even in autumn. The path to Helheim even more so. Take this, Herrick, and be safe. Come back to me, my friend. I do not wish to lose you a second time.”

Salazar reached out and took the offered fur lined cloak. He wrapped it around his own shoulders and pinned it in place. He dropped his hands then. “You confuse me with Godric, Einar. I will not be so reckless as to get myself killed.” Not yet at least. He had things to do before he could go to his death with honour.

“Ah, yes. Herrick of the Silver Tongue. Able to speak his way out of nearly anything. Unless, of course, he has had too much to drink.” Salazar could not stop the blush that stole across his pale cheeks. Einar chuckled and took a step back. “I will look after your snakelings, Herrick. Safety on your journey.” Salazar gave a nod before he felt a hook grasp his navel. A moment later he was whisked away.

The landing was abrupt and nearly saw him sprawled across the ground. It was only sheer force of will that kept him on his feet. Still, Salazar brushed off his clothing before he stepped from the circle where he had arrived. The surrounding land was forested, but an area had been cleared and marked for magical travel. The stones that lined the circle were engraved and painted with glowing images. They were guide stones for travelers, but also created a barrier that would keep certain pieces of darkness trapped within the circle. As Salazar stepped from the circle, he could feel the warmth of the magic wash over him. It felt like he had come home.

The world was quiet around him, though Salazar suspected it was the muffled timber of the forest that gave it its peace. The only sounds he could hear was the soft crunch of his footfalls against the earth beneath his leather boots and the soft swish of his cloak in the autumn breeze. There too were birds that whistled their tunes for anyone to listen. Around him, the leaves had started to turn hues of gold, scarlet, and orange within the lingering emerald green of summer foliage. They clung still to the branches, but already there were flashes of colour as brightly hued leaves drifted in dances to the forest floor. As he stepped from the forest though, Salazar had to stop as everything suddenly washed over him. If it was overwhelming to be at Hogwarts again after the centuries of magical buildup in the castle walls, it was nothing compared to Fyrkat. Perhaps he was just used to Hogwarts’ feeling of home.

Salazar stood at the crest of the hill and just took his time to survey everything. Around the city and a fair distance around the surrounding farms was a barrier, similar to what lined the wizarding roads and around other magical cities throughout the world. The wards hid the city from muggle eyes and protected the city from many other things. So, as soon as he stepped through the barrier, the life of Fyrkat seemed to wash over him. In his time, Fyrkat had not been a magical establishment but had still seemed to glow with life. It still had that feeling of life with the hustle and bustle, but was now coated in the feeling of ancient magics. Perhaps the difference between Hogwarts and Fyrkat was the heavy presence of the Gods. Hogwarts was a place of learning, but its faith was diverse or nonexistent. Here, the worship of the old Gods was well and truly strong.

Salazar shook away his thoughts and started for the path to the carved wooden gate of the village near the banks of the inlet. Another branch of the path led out to the farms that dotted the landscape. Groups of buildings were the homes of various families, kept close together for the harsh winters. Community was a strong theme amongst the people. The farmland of the families spread out in slices of a circle from the clusters of houses, with gardens and with livestock. He could see farmers as they brought in their livestock for the night like little specks in the distance. Salazar pulled his gaze away from the distant farmlands and turned for the village. As he stepped through the gate, he smiled to himself at all of the activity that was about.

Children ran about the streets as their laughter filled the air as both girls and boys carried wooden versions of the weapons their parents wielded. The children play fought with their wooden weapons and were splattered with mud as they ran around the feet of their elders. While each carried out their daily tasks for the evening, there were some who shopped at markets while many of them closed up for the night. As he walked further down the hill, he could see out into the harbour as well. He could see boats that came in along the fjord like ghosts as they appeared out of the evening mists, laden with the day’s fishing. The docks themselves were awash with activity from fishermen, shipwrights, and traders.

As Salazar walked along the main thoroughfare, he could see children stop to look at him. Others too gave him passing glances and greeted him as he walked through the wooden and thatched houses. He would need to find a place to spend the night, then see about a horse in the morning. So when a man stood from his work to greet him with, “Hail, stranger! From where do you roam?” Salazar turned to him in greeting.

The dark haired wizard responded with, “From far off lands I have travelled and have much before me to yet journey. I am in need of a place to rest my head for tonight if you could point me in such a direction.”

The man wiped off his hands and straightened fully while he gave him a grin. “Sit at my table tonight, stranger. We can share mead and stories.”

As he stepped forward, Salazar picked up one of the sacks of feed that the man had carried. “I would be honoured to accept your hospitality. My name is Herrick.”

His new host gave a pleased smile and hoisted the other sack over his shoulder, his build tall and strong for an older man. “I am grateful. Call me Eirik.” The man made a motion with his head then and started along the path. He clearly expected Salazar to follow. “What brings you to Fyrkat, Herrick? I do not believe I have seen your face before. Your clothing is that of our people, so do you hail from one of the other villages?”

 As he hoisted the sack a little higher, Salazar shook his head and followed away from the village to one of the farms. “I visited once long ago,” he spoke truthfully. “Fyrkat was like a home to me, but I have not been here in a long time. It is good to be here, but I can only stay for the night before I must be on my way first thing in the morning.” His host nodded, but didn’t press. Instead, he led Salazar to one of the thatched homes and knocked on the door with his boot. A young woman opened the door for them.

“Faðir!” The woman dragged the door open wider with a beaming smile on her face. Salazar had to smile at the smudge of mud on her cheek and the way her golden hair was in disarray. Eirik shook his head in exasperation, but led Salazar inside before he dropped the sack to the floor next to the door. Salazar followed suit.

Eirik gathered his daughter into his arms and kissed her cheek, much to the young woman’s embarrassment. “Hilde, this is Herrick. He will be dining at our table tonight, so why don’t you go let your móðir know, hm? Then go draw a bucket of water from the well.” He let the young woman go as she greeted Salazar quickly before she rushed off further into the longhouse. She reappeared moments later and ran off with an empty bucket. Eirik laughed and invited Salazar to sit at the table near the hearth. “She is rather excitable, but a rather formidable shieldmaiden that I do not have to worry over her safety at least. Much like her mother really.”

“Do I hear you telling stories, husband?” A woman appeared from an inner room of the house and walked over to the hearth to stir a pot of some sort of stew. Eirik rolled his eyes playfully and poured two cups of mead. He passed one over to Salazar and saluted him before he took a drink. “Well? Will you introduce me to our guest?” The woman spoke again, her hands on her full hips.

Salazar hid a smile behind his cup as Eirik gave a hearty laugh. “Herrick! Meet my wife Siv!”

As he placed his cup back against the table, Salazar nodded to Siv in greeting. “Thank you for inviting me into your home. I am Herrick.”

Hilde came back in shortly after with her arms carefully wrapped around the bucket of water she carried. She placed it down next to the hearth to keep it warm and then settled onto the bench next to Salazar. Siv shooed her off again though while she told her to wash up, so the young woman slid off the bench with a pout to go do what she was ordered.

“I have been around English wizards for far too long,” Salazar said suddenly in amusement as he ran a finger along the rim of the copper cup. “I have missed the bright spirit of the land and people here.”

Eirik snorted and took a draw from his own cup. “English wizards are far too proper. Full of lifeless stillness. They have their customs, but do they have any enjoyment besides the playing they had done as children? Or do they lose that sense when they become adults?” His mouth pressed into a grim line then. “Or does their evil wizard suck it from them?” He quickly shook his head and cleared his expression as Hilde came back. Her hair had been brushed down and the smudge of mud had been washed away.

As he let the young woman sit next to him, Salazar took a drink from his cup. “It is the wizard that steals it even from the children,” he whispered. He shook his head and gave Eirik a wane smile. “However, it is not talk for the table and not something I wish to bring with me on my journey.” The war was for English wizards and only concerned him as it had brought Hogwarts into its clutches. But perhaps he could call for allies. It could be a tipping point. The Dark Lord was afraid to die, something that observation and research had revealed to him. How would he fare against wizards who were not afraid to die upon the fields of battle? But, as much as Salazar might have enjoyed to battle with these people against his back, did he really want to drag even more people into a reckless war?

“Herrick?” Hilde’s voice caught his attention and Salazar turned his eyes down to the young woman. She brightened when she saw that she had gotten his attention. “You say you go on a journey. Where do you go?”

With a shake of his head, Salazar gave a little chuckle. “North. I head to the North. But why don’t I tell you of the time that I met a Jotunn?” He deflected her curiosity easily.

Hilde gave a gasp and turned to straddle the bench, her hands fisted into her skirt. “A jotunn? Was it giant and ugly?”

“Ugly? No. Giant? Yes. She was as tall as the trees and sat upon stones carved from the base of a mountain. Her hair was as black as coal and her skin was as pale as snow,” Salazar whispered as if afraid to be overheard. Hilde scooted in closer, her blue eyes wide with wonder. “As I approached her, she who was the very mountain of which she sat, was lounged in sleep with her head resting against her hand. Her clothes were made of grass and she wore flowers in her hair.” Salazar took a breath and turned more towards Hilde. “Now I was foolishly curious. Why was a jotunn woman sleeping at the base of a great mountain? Unaware, I moved in closer.” He leaned down further to Hilde and noted in amusement that the young woman practically held her breath.

Salazar then grabbed Hilde’s arms in a flash, which made the girl jump and give a startled gasp. “‘Who are you?’ she asked me! She was not asleep! ‘I am Herrick,’ said I. ‘What do you want?’ said she. ‘It is not nice to interrupt one’s sleeping.’” Salazar chuckled. “So what do you suppose I did, Hilde?” The young woman shook her head, eyes still wide.

“Nothing!” Salazar said with a shake of his own head. “She would not let me speak! Instead she gave a great huff, felling trees and blowing away great boulders like little pebbles in a stream. ‘I might forgive you, but you must do something for me. You see, I have lost an item of great importance to me. You must find it for me in a week’s time or else I shall cook you in a stew!’” Hilde gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Salazar tried not to smile. “‘What is it that you lost?’ said I and she told me of a gold torc bracelet.”

Hilde scooted forward again, practically about to climb into Salazar’s lap it seemed. One of her hands rested upon his woolen trousers. “Did you find it?” She asked the question in a hush, her words made Salazar chuckle.

“Now, I am here, am I not? Certainly not cooked into a Jotunn stew!” Hilde giggled and shook her head. “I thought not. So where was I? Oh, yes, I was to find a missing golden torc. How hard could it be? It must be giant in size, right?” He shook his head mournfully and gave a sigh. “For three whole days and nights I searched high and low, but to no avail. It was nowhere to be found! On the third night I decided to stop for a rest as it was getting far too dark to see. In the roots of a great tree, trunk as wide as a house, I laid down to sleep.”

He took a drink from his cup before he continued. “Now, the next morning I was woken by the sound of wings. A great wind rattled the trees and shook it down to its very roots. When I crawled from my sleeping spot, it was to a great bird settling into its nest in the tree. Its wings were so large it could black out the very sun!” He paused then and leaned down to speak in a whisper as if he was to tell Hilde a secret. “And about its neck was the golden torc! I told the great bird my story, how I had searched for three days and for three nights for the very thing that he carried around his neck. He told me then, ‘I have an eye for pretty things and I found this by the river. How would I know you tell me the truth and that you do not want this torc for yourself?’ So I offered a trade. If I could find a pretty piece to give in return, then the crow would return the torc to me. So for another three days and three nights, I searched for something to offer the crow in trade.”

“On the morning of the seventh day, I began to despair. If I did not return by the end of the night, then surely the jotunn would find me and have me for stew! But as I walked along, I came across a maiden in a field. Her hair was as golden as the finest metal and glimmered as real as gold in the sun. So I stopped and told her my story, asking for a bit of her hair to give in exchange for the torc that the crow wore. The maiden took pity on me and plucked three strands of her golden hair which she braided into a bracelet of which I have never seen finer! ‘Take this, stranger, and give to the crow. Take the Torc and return to the jotunn so you might not be stew. But in return I ask only a kiss,’ she spoke.”

Hilde interrupted the story with her giggling. “Did you? Did you kiss her, Herrick?”

Salazar smiled and gave a nod. He then kissed Hilde’s cheek, which earned him a blush upon her cheeks. “Just as that. So she gave me the bracelet of golden hair and I brought it to the crow. ‘Ah, the finest gift! You may have your torc!’ it cried and left the torc at my feet. I thanked the crow and took the torc, knowing I had little time. ‘You are late,’ the jotunn woman told me when I appeared on the morning of the eighth day. Fearing for my life, I presented her with the torc which she immediately plucked from my grip. ‘Too bad,’ said she. ‘But I will honour our agreement. Thank you for returning this to me.’ So off I went.”

As she laughed, Hilde gave her father a bright smile. Eirik chuckled and took a drink from his own cup while Siv placed down bowls of stew in front of them. Hilde gave a coy smile then before pointing towards the bowls. “Is it Herrick stew?” Salazar couldn’t stop his laugh. For all the evil and the tragedy in the world, all the uncertainty, moments like these were like a beacon and a warm shelter against the storm. Eirik’s deep laughter joined in as Hilde giggled more at her own joke.

“Come now, Hilde. Let our guest eat his dinner,” Siv chastised her daughter as she settled down on the bench next to her husband, though a smile played about the lips of the older woman. Hilde huffed, but moved further away from Salazar to gather her bowl close.

The young woman was quiet a moment before she looked to Salazar. “Will I see you again, Herrick?” Her voice was soft as she scraped her spoon against her bowl.

Salazar smiled as he picked up his own spoon. “Perhaps I will make my way through Fyrkat again one day. Would you welcome me?” Hilde nodded quickly before finally she dove into her dinner hungrily.

When they finished their meal, Hilde was sent off to bed. She gave a huff, but respected her mother’s wishes. As she rose from the bench, she gave Salazar a smile before she disappeared into the other room. Eirik poured them both another drink while Siv gathered up the dishes.

“My daughter has taken a shining to you. She is of marrying age,” Eirik said lightly, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. In olden days Hilde might have already been wed off, but things had certainly changed since then even if many other things still stayed the same. Either way, Salazar did not look for a wife and he told Eirik so. The man only chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. He studied Salazar a moment then. “Your accent. It is good, but the more I hear it I know you really are not from around here are you?” Eirik asked as he picked up his cup. “What truly brings you here?”

Salazar was quiet as he ran his fingers over the rim of his cup. Finally, he looked up at Eirik. “War. The entirety of the British Isles has been ensconced in war. The tides are changing so I seek answers to something that very well might mean the war’s end whether for good or bad.”

Eirik gave a grim smile and nodded in understanding. “You are seeking answers in another realm,” he observed. “There were rumours of a dark cloaked man who passed through villages like a wraith.”

Salazar could not hold back a grimace. “I know who it is and follow his trail to see what he is after. Not even a völva could see his doings and it is concerning. I have my suspicions, but would rather not give them voice just yet.”

His host gave another nod before he downed the rest of his drink. Eirik stood then. “You have had a long journey, and one equally as long ahead of you, so I can guess you would enjoy a warm bed. Wait here a moment and I will fetch some bedding.” As the man stood, Salazar sipped at his own drink.

“I would be more than happy to accept your good will,” he said after a moment. “I am grateful for how well you have hosted me in your home.” Eirik gave him a pleased smile before he disappeared into the other room. Salazar’s own smile immediately dropped off his face and he rubbed at his eyes. He already missed Eolas’ companionship, but this journey was not one for his coldblooded familiar no matter that the creature was magical.

Eirik came back then with the promised bedding which was quickly set up near the elevated hearth in the center of the room. The man dropped back down at the table across from Salazar then and poured himself another drink. The two men stayed up into the late hours of the night while they just talked and shared drink. Most of the talk was from Eirik who took great pride in getting Salazar up to date on things in the village. Eventually the two men retired to bed, both more than just a bit tipsy though Salazar hid it better.

The next morning, Salazar was woken by Hilde as she slipped into the room to stoke the fire. “Good morning, Herrick,” she said softly when she noticed that he was awake. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

Salazar rolled out of bed and used a murmured spell to fix his hair. He went over to the bucket of water near the hearth fo wash himself. Once he felt much more awake, he walked over to Hilde’s side to help her with the morning preparations. He could repay their generosity with the labour of his hands. So once Eirik emerged, he followed the man outside to help care for the few animals that the family had. “We will be moving them into the house soon enough. The nights are getting to be cold,” Eirik said as he dumped feed into the trough for the goats. Salazar nodded as he scattered feed for the chickens and remembered days spent in the long past.

He turned to look at Eirik then as he grabbed another handful of feed. “I am in need of a strong horse. Do you know where I might go to see about purchasing one?” The trip would be very long indeed if he was to try to make the journey on foot and it was not possible to use normal magical ways of transportation. Often there was a particular path that must be taken to travel into the different realms anyhow. Portals had to be accessed a certain way.

“Try Geir Bláskegg down by the port. He’s got a few horses I hear he was looking to sell. You’d best try your luck with him first,” Eirik suggested.

Salazar let himself give a huff of laughter. “My thanks. But Bláskegg? Might I make a guess that he sports a large black beard? That is what the name means, does it not?”

Eirik grinned as he dropped his bucket down. “You might just be right. Mighty proud of it he is too.”

Salazar put his bucket away as well. “And might you be called something?” He asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. Insults were taken very seriously amongst these people, but it did not stop jesting. It was a fine line that Salazar often enjoyed walking.

“Eirik Bjornson is I and nothing more. I have no other name,” Eirik responded as he led the way back into the house as the morning chores had been finished. “But perhaps one day when I’m very old and grey,” he said with a laugh as he pushed open the door into the long house. Inside, Hilde helped her mother set up the table with their morning meal. Eirik invited Salazar to sit so both men took their seats once they had washed up. Hilde seated herself next to Salazar and offered him a bowl of porridge.

After the meal was over, Salazar gathered his things and bid the family goodbye. He thanked them for their generosity and Eirik offered him his home again if Salazar passed by in the future. Salazar thanked him again while he admitted that he might one day take him up on the offer. He left the farmhouse then and made the trek back down to the village to search out Geir.

Though most of the people lived in the surrounding area in farms, the city itself was alive with activity just as the day before. Some did live in the city and there were those who made use of the port. And though Fyrkat itself was home to so few, it was still vital to the surrounding farms. The city was a place of gathering and a place of trade. So if this Geir did not have a horse to sell him, Salazar knew he could find another.

Eirik’s farm was located in one of the farming clusters that was nearest to the village. Salazar followed the path through Eirik’s farm as it would carry him back to Fyrkat. As he walked, he could see sheep and cattle roaming the field. Life here was so simplistic. It was almost soothing in a way. The people here had lives centered around magic and lore. He could feel the magic in the air. And yet, they knew the value of working with their hands. English noblewizards could certainly take a few lessons, Salazar thought. He himself could remind himself of it as he found himself reliant on magic far too frequently. Perhaps once the war was over, and Hogwarts closed for the summer months, he would spend his time here. It was something to look forward to for sure.

Once in town, Salazar found Geir exactly where Eirik had said. It was hard to miss the man who laughed so jovially while he enjoyed a game of Hnefatafl. The large black beard, streaked with grey now, also gave it away. “I heard you were the man to see about a horse,” Salazar said as he settled himself against a fence post of a nearby pen. Two horses stood inside the pen, one a dappled grey and the other a deep chestnut. Both grew out heavy coats and had shaggy manes.

“Depends on who sent you and who you are,” the man replied as he studied the game board.

“Eirik Bjornson sent me,” Salazar said evenly as he brought his attention away from the horses, though his lips gave a slight twitch of amusement. “And I am known as Herrick.”

The man hummed. “Then I am Geir. And you say you were looking for a horse? How do you intend to pay for it? I do not know you, Herrick.”

“I can trade in either bullion or wizarding coin, whichever you would prefer,” Salazar responded as he watched as Geir played the game with his opponent. “How much are you asking for?”

Geir looked up at Salazar and regarded him closely for a moment before he turned back to his game. “Three hundred and fifty grams of pure silver is a fair price,” he stated after he made a move on the game board.

“Two hundred and fifty,” Salazar countered smoothly.

The man looked up at Salazar with a grin. “Ah, and what do you take me for, Herrick? No, no… three hundred and twenty grams of silver.”

Salazar could not stop the sly smile that passed over his lips. Perhaps some would not find haggling enjoyable, but he rather liked to barter. Some people got impatient. And really, he could go at this for hours, but he was unfortunate enough to have a quest before him that he could not delay. “You and I both know that we will settle upon three hundred grams even. Let us skip the dance and just agree upon the price, yes? So, three hundred grams of pure silver and I will take the grey.”

Geir finished off his game before he replied to Salazar. He moved his last piece and then stood up. His opponent stared at the board in disbelief before the man scoffed and dropped a couple of coins onto the board. Once the man had slunk away back down to the port, Geir smirked at Salazar. “Three hundred grams and you will have the grey? Impatient man. But I see you have a trek before you if your clothes are anything to go by and you were sent my way by Eirik. So, yes, alright. Produce your silver and we shall weigh it.” He pulled out a scale and set it up on the game board after he had tucked away the silver coins from his opponent. He dropped some weights into one of the bowls after Salazar verified that it equaled to three hundred grams.

As he reached into the bag around his neck, Salazar gathered a bit of magic in his fingertips. It brought the needed items to his hand without having to enlarge the entire thing. He pulled out three bars of silver, each one hundred grams each. Geir took the time to inspect them to ensure they were pure silver as Salazar had told him. Once he was satisfied, he placed them into the opposite bowl as the weights. “Everything seems to be in order,” Geir said after a moment. He reached his hand out to Salazar and they clasped their forearms together. “We have a deal then, my friend. The grey is named Grani and he is now yours.”

Salazar could not stop the short chuckle that passed from his lips. “Grani, is it? Named for Sigurd’s own steed and a descendant of Odinn’s steed Sleipnir.” It was rather a funny thing actually as it had been Sleipnir that had been ridden into Hel’s realm in the stories. So it was fitting really that his new horse be named Grani, a descendent of Sleipnir. As Geir packed away his new silver and his scales, Salazar approached the grey stallion and reached out a hand. It huffed and then snuffled at his palm before he apparently decided that he was alright.

“Will you be wanting him out of the pen now?” Geir caught Salazar’s attention. When Salazar gave his agreement, Geir opened up the pen and grabbed hold of Grani’s lead. He offered the end to Salazar, who took it and then grabbed hold of Grani’s bridle. He led the horse out of the pen and gave Geir one last word of thanks before he led Grani away. He was rather thankful that the trade had not lasted long. Geir had obviously been in a hurry to sell the two horses. Grani looked strong and healthy at least. Salazar made a stop through the market to purchase a saddle for Grani and then rode the way out of town on the horse’s back.

Salazar reined in Grani when they were a good way along the path away from the village and the surrounding farms. He led the horse off the path and to a stream. “Go on then. Drink,” he said as he patted the horse’s neck and then slid out of the saddle. The journey was going to be right murder on his backside that was for sure. Salazar grumbled a bit as he searched through his bag for the proper tools he needed for the spell he was going to use on Grani. He transfigured a nearby fallen log into a table and set up his supplies. There were various jars of dried herbs along with a stone bowl.

As he measured out each herb carefully, Salazar murmured softly to himself with his brow creased in concentration. He set the last jar aside before picking up the stone pestle and mixed the herbs as he crushed them into a fine powder. A little bit of liquid from a bottle created an inky past that he could use to draw onto Grani’s hide. “Hush now. Hold still,” he crooned soothingly to Grani with magic gathered in his throat as he approached the horse. Grani stomped his feet and tossed his head, but stayed in one place. Salazar scooped up some of the paste before he used his own fingers to paint out the needed runes on Grani’s shoulders and quarters. He worked slowly so he wouldn’t spook the horse or smear the marks.

It took Salazar an hour to complete the marks. He washed his hands quickly in the stream before he pulled out his wand. Now was the time to see if his spell would work or not. He took a deep breath and then placed the tip of his wand against the first rune. “Best of horses amongst men and gods, steed of Odinn. Swift of feet and light of foot, son of Loki. Speed of Sleipnir to make short the way,” he whispered as he gathered his magic. He guided it down the focus of his wand and activated the first rune. Nothing happened for a moment before one by one the runes started to glow. Salazar took a step back and covered his eyes as the light became near unbearable.

When the light faded, Salazar quickly looked back and sagged in relief at the runes that still lightly glowed. Grani shifted restlessly as four natural hooves stamped along with the ghostly mirages of four more hooves. “Settle,” Salazar soothed as he made quick work of his clean up. He quickly mounted Grani’s saddle and patted his neck once he was done. “Let us be on our way. We have a journey of nine days ahead of us, Grani, even with the borrowed speed of Sleipnir.”

The road flew quickly by them, the path hidden from muggles. Fellow travelers on the road were quickly passed and left far behind, as Salazar’s own passage on Grani might have appeared like a phantom. Nights were spent curled up beneath blankets and furs as the nights grew colder and longer. And, as the days passed, they slipped from the road of the living into that of the dead. Salazar nearly missed the transition and it was only as they passed a lonely soul with arrows in his back on the way to Hel’s hall did Salazar realize the change.

But the journey of the dead was not meant to be travelled by the living. The weight of it sunk into his bones and dragged him near physically down. He thought even Grani could feel the weight of the journey though they finally would come to the end of the longest leg of their journey. They had finally come to Gjöll and followed it now to the cave of Gnipahellir. The mouth of the cave loomed before him and he knew the heavy obstacles of Helheim’s guardians now lied before him.

Salazar took a great breath and tightened his hands on the reins of Grani. “Pray that we leave this journey alive, dear friend. But then, perhaps we should take faith in that it was the Gods who set me on this journey.” Grani snorted and stomped his hooves, that were both tangible legs along with the shadows of four more. Salazar smiled and patted Grani’s neck. “Garmr lies before us first, but he will let us through. Do not let him frighten you.”

But he could hardly contain his own fear as the great beast stepped from the shadows of the cave mouth. Alike to Fenrir, it stood at a great height and carried every bit of fierceness of a mundane wolf but in greater numbers. Blood stained its fur and the howl it gave felt like it could freeze the blood in his own veins. Garmr was fierce, a great protector. “Go, Grani!” It was only the speed of Sleipnir that allowed them to weave through the pillars of Garmr’s legs and left the chained guardian behind. An offering of a Hel cake he fished from his pack and dropped behind them kept the wolf from snapping at their heels. He could only imagine how the Dark Lord had managed to pass by the great beast unharmed. Hel cakes could appease Gramr, but were said to only work for those who had given bread to someone in a time of need. It did not have to be as literal as that, but still the notion behind the act remained the same.

As he breathed hard, Salazar continued to weave Grani through the obstacles that the cave now provided. He could hear Gjöll rumbling beside him, his path’s guide. When they came to the great golden bridge of Gjallarbrú, Salazar reined in Grani. He could only hope that he could make it across. He guided Grani onto the golden roofed bridge held by a single strand of hair. The bridge dipped, but did not collapse. As they made their way a few steps onto the bridge, it was then that they met Móðguðr. The skeletal maiden appeared by his side, and it was the tip of her sword against his throat that froze Salazar in place.

“Eight legs yet they do not carry the pallet of the dead," The maiden growled. "Your weight is not light like those who pass this way and your pallor is too healthy for that of the departed.” She dug the sword further into the hollow of his throat. “Tell me who you are that passes this way! I will not be tricked again by the magics of a Seiðrmaðr!”

Salazar swallowed thickly. So that was how Riddle had passed. Rather than use legends and traditions, he had used magic to force his entry to Helheim. It must have been a great and powerful magic, something evil that had twisted the neutrality of magic into something vulgar and reprehensible. “I was sent here by the words of a Völva after the trail of a madman who gained his passage here wrongly.”

The sword only dug in deeper and Salazar worried it might break the skin if any more pressure was given. “I can smell seiðr upon you, Seiðrmaðr. I can smell the filth of the abomination upon you. So do not tell me lies!” The sword lifted from his neck only to tap against the scar that began on his forehead. “There is a connection here, the vileness of your master cannot be hidden!”

Salazar could not help but feel sick as pieces of a puzzle seemed to slip into place. “Horcrux,” he whispered. Somehow, in a memory he had long since forgotten, he had met Riddle once more. He had ignored the signs and had tried to explain them off, but now it felt more and more real that he had traveled twice through time. And now a fragment of a twisted soul lied inside of him and made him a living vessel for an attempt at immortality. A black magic even he had shied from. Salazar straightened in his saddle then as a plan formed rapidly. “Móðguðr. Hear my words! I have no part of the abomination that stole his way into Hel’s Halls! I have been sent by the Gods themselves to search for any evidence of the creature’s plans. I must be allowed to pass. In exchange, I offer my blood toll with the fragment of soul that man has placed unwillingly upon me. Though not Sleipnir himself, I ride upon Sleipnir’s hooves and you know he can make the bridge unharmed.”

The skeletal maiden seemed to regard him. Finally, she pressed the sword heavier against Salazar’s forehead. “Very well. I will accept your toll. However, you might find that Nágrindr is barred to you.” Salazar said nothing and only closed his eyes as the maiden drew her sword down along his scar. Removal of a horcrux would not be so simple, but Móðguðr had the power to accept the toll he had to offer. So she cut open his scar until the blood flowed freely down his face. The cold bones of her fingers pressed against his forehead and drew a scream from him as the unwilling spirit was drawn forth. The pain echoed deep within him, no easy task to detach a piece of soul from where it had festered against the parts of his own soul.

When Salazar slumped against the saddle, a ghostly image appeared beside Móðguðr’s side. It was the first time in his memory that he could say he looked upon Riddle’s face. The man was drawn and pale, a black look of rage upon his visage. There was a serpentine look to him that made his chest ache. “Oh, what have you done to yourself? My brother’s legacy. I cannot turn back time, but how I wish I could go back and see sooner the storm that built inside of Cayden.” He shook his head before he raised himself in the saddle. As Móðguðr stepped inside, Salazar did not spare time to see what became of the spirit as he snapped Grani’s reins. With flashing hooves, they rode across the bridge. It swayed from side to side, but held. He led Grani off into the Ironwood, riding to the final entrance of Helheim. The gate of Nágrindr.

When he came to the gate, he found it tightly shut just as he had been warned. Taking a breath, Salazar backed Grani up. “It seems we must take an example from Sleipnir.” With a snap at Grani’s reins, he guided the horse forward and then into a great leap. The air rushed over him as they took the gate in a single bound. It must be quite something to ride upon Sleipnir’s back as it was a rush enough to ride Grani with Sleipnir’s hooves! WIth a quick shake of himself, Salazar snapped Grani’s reins again and they took off for Hel’s hall Éljúðnir. He dismounted then as his legs shook, but patted Grani’s neck and ordered the horse to stay before he gathered his courage. He was about to come face to face with a Goddess. However, he did not have much time and he did not want to linger here any longer than he had to be here.

Once he had climbed the steps to the hall, Salazar pushed open the door. His eyes were immediately drawn to the great throne at the head of the table where Hel sat. She was dressed in opulence with gold and jewels while her head was turned from him so he could only see the side of her beautiful face. A veil of blue covered her head and sat about her shoulders, though did not hide the way that her skin was as creamy as milk and her hair was worn in braids of gold. But then she turned to him and he was able to look upon her full face. Where one half was young and beautiful, the other half was wrinkled and mummified like flesh that had shriveled with death. Her eye was a milky white in contrast to the blue of the other. Her hair above this side of her face lay limp, white, and dead. It was a paradoxical appearance, but as beautiful as it was strange. A bony hand raised then and crooked a finger at him. “Who are you to enter here, who still carries the hue of the living?” Her voice was a curious mix of tones as if two women spoke at once, one full of life like the gentle flowing of a stream and the other raspy with age. But, Salazar did not find himself afraid.

Salazar approached the table as his boots echoed in the silence that had fallen the hall. “I merely seek information from the dead on the trail of a living man who came here before me.”

“I do remember such a man," Hel spoke in her strange voice. "However, it is strange for a living man to seek me in my own Hall. So, tell me, why should I give you the answers that you seek?” Hel touched a flower crown before her. The flowers quickly wilted and died as she touched them to weave them together.

Salazar did not get the impression that Hel was suspicious of him. Rather, she seemed welcoming and willing to help. But she would not help him if he did not help himself. She would not help him for free as that was not the way of the world. So. “Bargain with me,” Salazar requested bravely. “Not even the other Gods know of that man’s plans, he who hides from the honour of death.” Hel’s eyes narrowed at him so Salazar pushed on. “The word is Horcrux, my lady. It is an evil magic in which he has split his spirit into pieces in which he uses to hide himself from the grasp of death. He placed one into me, though I had been unaware of its extent until now. Your guardian Móðguðr separated his spirit from mine as payment so this fragment now is trapped here within your realm.” He brushed his hair aside more to show off the scar on the side of his face. As he had not yet cleaned his face, the dried blood that coated his face and down along his neck stood out darkly against his pale skin. Hel leaned forward, but did not touch him. “Let me find out what Tom Riddle’s purpose here was and I will bring you more fragments of his soul.”

Hel regarded him silently for several long minutes, her gaze shrewd as she watched him. Salazar stood strong and refused to bend beneath the weight of her stare. He knew she would know of everything that happened within her realm, but she was the Caretaker of the Dead. She would not be able to gather the pieces of the Dark Lord's fractured soul from the world of the living on her own. Finally, a slow smile crept across Hel’s lips as warmth returned to her expression. “Very well. Tell me your name, mortal, and we will have a deal.”

He was sure she knew his name already, but he could not refuse her request. “I am Salazar Slytherin, also named Herrick, oh Death Mother.”

“We have a bargain, Salazar Slytherin. For the pieces of the spirit of the one named Tom Riddle, I shall give you in exchange the knowledge of his journey.” Hel made a motion with her hand before she smiled grimly. “Tom Riddle sought the cursed sword Tyrfing and so journeyed here to gain its knowledge from its last known wielder.”

“Tyrfing. That name is familiar to me,” Salazar spoke slowly as a frown pulled at his lips.

Hel laughed softly and leaned against her fair hand. “What he wants of it, I do not know. He searched out Angantyr Heidreksson, the last known wielder of Tyrfing and owner during the last of the Three Evil Deeds. It has reached my ears that the curse then ceased to exist, the sword passing out of knowledge. But Angantyr knows the truth.”

“And where do I find Angantyr?” Salazar responded as a sort of dread fell over him.

Hel gave him a smile as her chin rested on one fair hand while her other skeletal fingers idly traced the rim of her cup. “Look beyond the walls of my Hall for Angantyr,” she told him. “Go then, Salazar Slytherin, and honour our bargain.”

Salazar quickly took his leave as he did not want to push his luck any further. He slipped through the Hall’s doors before he took a deep breath. “Náströnd then,” he whispered gravely to himself. He quickly mounted Grani and took hold of the reins. “The Corpse Shores. Where Níðhöggr gnaws upon the bodies of the dead, and is a place reserved for the impure dead.” He patted Grani’s neck before he frowned at the horse’s trembling. “I know. I can only hope that our trip will not be too much longer. I too hope to leave this realm quickly.” The weight had not lessened an ounce and continued to drag him down each moment they lingered. So Salazar snapped Grani’s reins and sent the horse off in his search for Náströnd.

Whether it was minutes or hours, Salazar could not count the time here. He did not know how long they rode, but eventually they finally came upon the entrance to Náströnd. Though called the Corpse Shores, Náströnd was a cave-like hall that dripped with the venom of the numerous snakes that entwined the walls and ceiling in a writhing, living facade. Salazar counted himself both cursed and lucky that he could understand the language of snakes. It was a cacophony of voices around him, as all vied to be heard over the cries of the sullied souls of the dead. Salazar grit his teeth and hissed out in a desperate plea for directions. Perhaps the snakes could point him in the way of Angantyr? By some miracle it worked.

“Can no one show me the way to Angantyr Heidreksson? I have need of him!” Salazar hissed out while he tried not to bring his attention to the groaning masses around him. There was a moment of silence around him before a ripple of hissing as the serpents above writhed instead in excitement.

“Speaker! Speaker… but you are not dead,” many of the serpents spoke at once, a sibilant echo. “What does the living need for one of the dead that he should go seeking in these dark chambers? And a speaker no less! A speaker we have not heard in a very long time. Once long ago.”

Salazar closed his eyes and took a breath. “I look for Angantyr. Lead me to him for I have questions that need be answered,” he repeated himself. He did not want to waste time to try to answer the questions of the serpents.

“Another looked for him too. Hissing nonsense. Left not long again, left such screams in its wake. How do you know you will not do the same? Why should we let you pass? We care not for the screams of the impure, they scream enough,” Salazar got in return from the serpents. It was enough for him to sigh in exasperation.

“I follow the trail of the hissing man. I am in need to know what it is he came for,” he answered truthfully. The snakes were quiet for a moment, the hissing nonsensical just as a human might hum in thought.

Finally, one of the serpents further down the way spoke up. “This way, speaker.” Salazar could barely hold in his relief. He quickly wrapped his magic around them both to protect them against the venom of the Hall before he snapped Grani’s reins and led the horse around the bodies around them. He ignored the way they reached for him and instead followed the hissed directions of the snakes for an immeasurable amount of time. Until finally, he heard, “Angantyr is there!”

Salazar hissed his thanks before he approached the man curled up on the ground half submerged in one of the puddles of venom. “You are Angantyr?” The man did not respond to him. Salazar sighed and leaned against Grani’s saddle horn. “I know that a man came through before me, also on a search for you. He wished for the knowledge of the sword Tyrfing, of which you were the last known wielder.” His words brought a stir from the man’s form, though he still did not speak. “I am no friend of the man, but I need to know everything you have told him so that he might be stopped.”

The man groaned softly then, the first sound Salazar had heard from him. “The Three Evil Deeds of Tyrfing defeated the curse of the blade,” the man wheezed out as he pushed himself into a seated position. Salazar forced himself to look only upon the man’s face, to ignore the abused and gnawed body of the dead man. Even still, one of Angantyr’s eyes was missing and left a gaping hole in its absence. Much of the left side of the man’s face was ripped away and the white of his bone gleamed in the dim light of Náströnd. Salazar could only wonder what Riddle had done, and what was from Níðhöggr.

Angantyr’s voice brought Salazar from his thoughts. “The blade is no longer cursed to kill a man every time it is drawn and the Three Great Evils have passed. But the blade still will never miss a stroke, will never rust, and will cut through stone and iron as easily as through mere cloth. It still gleams as with fire and its golden hilt is a sight to behold.” The dead man trailed off, his single eye distant in memory. “I thought,” he said after a moment, “that Durin and Dvalinn might return for the sword they had forged. But, after the battle…” He shook his head slowly and his bones creaked. “I killed my half-brother Hlod on the battleground. The bodies… the bodies of the warriors choked the rivers as they were so numerous in number. Their number caused a flood which filled the valleys with dead men and horses. It was… sad. Perhaps a word so simple cannot describe such horror I felt. But Tyrfing had done its deed. And I… I kept the right to my throne. I lived my life.”

Salazar listened silently, but it still did not tell him what had happened to Tyrfing. “And the sword? You say the dwarves did not return for the sword, so what became of it?” He prompted, his voice low but firm. Angantyr turned his single eye upon Salazar before he turned his gaze away.

“I hid it away before I was doomed to my deathbed,” the man spoke slowly, as if he tried to recall a memory. Salazar tried not to be impatient. “There was a forest… and among the trees was a large oak, as broad as three men and as tall as a giant. Beneath its roots I placed the stone coffer with the sword inside.”

“And the name of the forest, Angantyr?” The land had likely since changed, but if he could at least get a starting point he could search from there. He could only assume that conventional magic would not work to find Tyrfing. The Dark Lord likely had already thought of that. This would have to be a search done through hard research and physical searching. Rowena would have enjoyed such a thing, but perhaps Granger would be just as helpful.

Angantyr hummed and did not respond to Salazar right away. He turned his gaze back to the wizard then and gave a dry laugh. “The great forest of Murkwood.”

Salazar gave a bow from where he sat in Grani’s saddle “You have my thanks, Angantyr Heidreksson. I will see to it that that man will not lay claim to Tyrfing.” He straightened then and tugged on Grani’s reins to lead the horse about. He snapped the reins then and spurred the horse into a gallop. Once they passed from Náströnd, he released his magic that surrounded them both.

The pair flew through the caves on Sleipnir’s speed and across Hel’s realm. Salazar let Grani lead the way through obstacles and only guided the horse in the right direction. He did not rein Grani in again until they had burst past Gramr once more and had passed out of Gnipahellir cave. Gjöll still flowed beside them, but they had passed from the worst so Salazar slid from the saddle and collapsed against the ground onto his knees. Beside him Grani shone with sweat and trembled with exertion. Salazar knew he needed to tend to his companion, but found he could not support his own weight at the moment. He gave a breathless laugh and covered his face with one of his hands.

“I finally feel as if I can breathe properly,” he whispered, his tone breathless. The heaviness of the path still lay upon him, but the heavy air of Helheim had since fallen away from him. As he dropped his hand, Salazar looked out over the river and the surrounding mountains before he slowly climbed to his feet. His knees shook, but he grabbed hold of Grani’s saddle to keep himself upright. “I would not drink from Gjöll, but I will get you water,” he promised his horse before he summoned a deep bowl from his pack. He set it on the ground and used a spell to fill it with clean water from the surrounding air. He kept it filled until Grani had his fill.

Salazar patted Grani’s neck and cleaned out the bowl with a spell before he tucked it away again. He summoned some dried meat and biscuits to eat while he lett Grani wander off the path to graze in the grass. They could not linger long however and Salazar mounted Grani after a time. “Our journey is not over yet. But when we get to Hogwarts, I will ensure that the stables are rebuilt properly so you will have a comfortable place to rest. You have deserved it many times over, my friend.” They would likely have to take the magical roadways as horses did not do well with most other means of travel. It would extend their travel by several days, but would still be a shortened time and would take them over the sea if Salazar left the spell active for a bit longer. He could not leave it on forever though, so they had to make good time. He could remove the spell shortly before they returned to Hogwarts.

With a deep breath, Salazar patted Grani’s neck. “We have a long journey still. Let us get going, Grani.” He straightened before he snapped the reins once more. Grani reared before he lept forwards and they were off down the path like a wind as ghostly hooves flashed alongside living ones.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

With a deep breath, Salazar patted Grani’s neck. “We have a long journey still. Let us get going, Grani.” He straightened before he snapped the reins once more. Grani reared before he lept forwards and they were off down the path like a wind as ghostly hooves flashed alongside living ones.

Chapter Eleven

((Hogwarts - Past))

“Yes, yes! I am coming! Wait just a moment!” Rowena called out to the bangs on her door. Little one year old Helena played on the floor with a doll, but did not seem to give the knocks any mind. More than just a little harried, Rowena opened up the door before her mouth dropped open in shock. “Godric? Oh, thank the gods… When you stopped sending letters, I was so worried!” She said in a rush even as she surveyed the haggard man that stood at her door. “Will you come in?” She stepped aside with the intention to let him in, but stopped when Godric shook his head instead.

The weary faced man held out a small bundle he held in his arms. Rowena took it curiously before she gasped softly when soft mewls came from within the soft cloth. Godric gently pushed the blanket aside to reveal the face of a barely month old child. “Meet Salazar Gryffindor,” he spoke softly. “This is my son.” The man paused and looked down at the boy softly, though sadness surrounded him. He raised his eyes to meet the woman’s shocked gaze. “Please, Rowena, you must care for him in my stead. His mother was taken from him by childbirth, his very existence a result of one night of passion. I still have not found Salazar yet, Rowena. I cannot return until I have found my brother, but it is not a journey I can bring a small child on. You have a child yourself and I have no idea what to do. Please raise my son until I return, Rowena.”

“Godric,” Rowena stated warily, though her eyes dropped to the small boy that had a shock of red hair that was so like his father’s. “A child should not grow up without their parents. If you say he had already lost his mother, then he cannot lose his father as well.”

Godric adjusted his cloak with a puzzled frown. “You speak as if I will never return, Rowena. Please. It will just be for a little while. I feel as if I am so close! You will see! I will bring Salazar back to us, just you wait!” He gave a wide smile, just a hint of madness in his eyes. Rowena feared that Godric drove himself to insanity over this fruitless search for their poor friend. Perhaps it was best that she did raise Godric’s child after all. It was the least she could do anyhow if the man would not listen to reason and then, at the very least, she could ensure that little Salazar was raised in a safe home.

Rowena gave a soft sigh and cradled the young babe close to her chest. “Yes, of course, Godric. Please do remember to at least visit the boy, would you?” She fussed with the blanket wrapped around the sleeping boy before she settled her gaze back on Godric. The man gave a dismissive nod and turned away, as he did not even bother to stay. But he had barely made it a short distance down the corridor before he paused in his step.

“Oh, Rowena. I found the reason for our heinous crime against Sal.” He turned his head, but did not pivot to face her. “It was an enchantment placed upon our minds, insidious and manipulative. A filthy piece of magic of the darkest magics, magic even Salazar would turn his back on. It turned us against dear Salazar, placed upon us by his very brother who was jealous and wanted Salazar’s attention for his own. When Salazar defeated Cayden, the enchantment broke. But it was far too late.”

Godric was gone before Rowena could summon up a response.

((Present Day - Hogwarts))

Salazar and Grani spent two days on the roadways. The roads themselves were quiet and they passed like phantoms by very few other travelers. While in the lands to the north, they flitted past caravans of merchants and groups of travelers. Once they passed over the sea into Scotland, there were very few travelers. When they stopped for the night in one of the magical alcoves, no one passed through them in the night. It was almost eerie, though Salazar could guess why it was so quiet. When they did pass by caravans, they always appeared to be on their way out of the English Isles. He would be glad to be back at Hogwarts.

It was the early afternoon of the second day that Salazar guided Grani into a rest area with an old weeping willow. He dismounted and then carefully guided Grani beneath the cascading boughs of the willow before he gently patted the creature’s withers. “You have traveled so far from home, my friend.” Salazar loosened the saddle then and dropped it on the ground next to the trunk of the old tree. He wanted to head to Hogwarts straight away, but Grani needed to rest and the spell was at its limit. He had already pushed it past what he might have in any other scenario in his haste to report his findings. So he would take an hour or two to rest Grani. With the saddle off, Salazar summoned an apple from the depths of his pack. He offered it on a flat hand to the dappled grey, a small smile on his lips as the creature eagerly crunched it. “I will get you all the apples, carrots, and oats that you can eat,” he promised as he summoned next a horse comb from his pack. He conjured up a simple table and set it down on the tabletop before he summoned a large bowl. He conjured water for his steed and let him drink what he needed.

Once the horse had his fill, Salazar left him to graze as he cleaned out the bowl and filled it with water once more. He warmed it and then summoned a rag from his pack. He wetted the rag before he then approached Grani once more with a soothing sound and magic gathered in his throat to keep the horse calm. With calm strokes, he started to wipe away the runes. As soon as he wiped one away, the rest all flickered and dimmed until they were nothing more than dried paste. The ghostly legs that had given Grani’s his borrowed speed now drifted away into mist. Salazar offered up thanks to Sleipnir and then worked to wipe off the rest of the marks. Once Grani’s coat was cleaned, Salazar brushed him and left him to rest as he cleared away his tools.

They still had a few more hours of journey before they reached the Hogsmeade Nexus where all of the roads to Hogsmeade converged. Now that they had stopped for a time, Grani needed to rest before they continued. And truthfully Salazar would not mind a short breather before he was swept back up into the life at Hogwarts. Even with everything that hung heavily above his head, this moment right here as the wind fluttered the golden boughs of the autumn willow, he felt at peace.

An hour later, Salazar reluctantly dragged his aching body off the ground and gathered Grani’s saddle. “I am sorry, Grani. It is only for a bit longer, I promise.” Grani was going to need at least a month of rest after this journey. Salazar sighed softly as he got the saddle back in place before he led the horse back onto the road. He lifted himself painfully back into the saddle once more and then snapped the reins. “The last stretch of the journey towards home is always the hardest,” he whispered to the horse. He had made a habit to talk to the horse as they rode otherwise it had been too eerily quiet. “We will be there soon, Grani.”

When Salazar finally saw the large stone archway of the Hogsmeade Nexus, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He wanted to urge Grani into a gallop, but the horse had gone through enough on their journey. He held himself back and remained patient as the archway grew larger as they approached. The archway was heavily carved with Ogham runes that glowed with a steady amethyst light. They had originally been constructed by the druids and adapted as the magical community grew.

As they passed beneath the archway, they passed through an intangible curtain of magic that appeared like a mirage. Salazar glanced behind him into the pale mists of the portal before he turned back forward to guide Grani through the streets of Hogsmeade. Horses were not as common in this time anymore, so there were a few witches and wizards that stopped to stare as he focused on the path ahead. His clothes likely did not help things either, kept clean by spells but not so usual in style for the British community. Salazar ignored them all. They passed soon through the village anyhow and took the winding path to the castle gates. There, Luna waited for him.

Salazar dismounted as the young woman stepped up to him with a grim smile. “I have Seen parts of your journey,” she told him quietly and reached up to gently touch the scar on his cheek. With the horcrux gone, it had finally started to heal. The edges were still somewhat raw, but it looked better than he had ever known it. “His taint is gone,” Luna breathed out before she pulled her hand back once more and then took Grani’s reins. “I will see to him down at the old paddock. The Headmaster is at dinner.” She then led the creature away without another word. Salazar breathed out and then faced the doors to the school. He pushed them open and made quick strides towards the Great Hall as he spared a quick thought for his bed.

Once he reached the Great Hall, Salazar drew in another great breath before he pushed open the doors. The school would be assembled for the evening meal now, just as Luna had said, but it could not be helped. His news was urgent and needed to be brought to Dumbledore immediately. Riddle may have lost his ability with serpents, though it appeared he tried to ignore this fact, but he was no less dangerous. Parselmagic would be beyond his grasp now, but the man had delved into other very heavy magic. If he found the sword, it might very well spell the end for all of them.

As he stepped into the Hall, Salazar was met by a brief lull in conversation as the children turned to see who had entered. The din returned louder than before as they all seemed to whisper about him. Salazar caught snippets as he strode towards the front, his eyes locked on the staff table.

“...said he was on some sort of pilgrimage…”

“...in Merlin’s name is he wearing?...”

“...weird that he would leave so soon into the new school year…”

Salazar stepped up in front of the staff table and leveled his gaze on the Headmaster, who greeted him before he could get a word out of his own. “Professor Evans, my dear boy, I’m glad to see you have returned.” The man’s eyes dragged curiously over his apparel. Perhaps he also looked for injuries as it would not be so unusual.

“I return in one piece,” Salazar assured before he ducked his head with a grimace. “Headmaster, if you would forgive my abruptness, I need to request a private conversation with you and your Order.” His tone was grave but he kept his voice hushed so it would not carry far. “I have learned some disturbing news while on my journey. I believe time is of the utmost importance.”

Dumbledore regarded Salazar before he stood. Whatever answers he sought, he seemed to find as he inclined his head and took Salazar seriously. “Very well. If you would follow me to my office then, dear boy. Minerva, if you would see to it that the others are gathered.”

When they arrived at the Headmaster’s office, the man offered Salazar tea and small sandwiches brought by a house elf. Salazar accepted gratefully and made small talk with the headmaster until the others arrived as he refused to speak of his journey until all had gathered. He ignored Black’s heavy glare as the man stepped into the Headmaster’s office. As more and more members of the Order arrived, Dumbledore opened a hidden panel in one of the bookcases. It opened a secret door that led into a meeting hall where they all settled comfortably. “Just why are we here, Albus?” This was Black, of course.

Salazar stood from his seat to draw attention. “You all have been gathered here at my request,” he said evenly. “I would like to first thank you for your time in being here.” He looked over the gathered faces, though he noted that Granger was absent. He would have to relay the story to her at another time, unfortunately. Salazar shook his head and continued with, “I know many of you denounce the old religions.” He paused and held his hands up in a placating gesture. “I am not here to argue beliefs. I only want you all to understand that many myths and legends come from truth. With that said, I was contacted by a völva, a seer from the Northern traditions.” He would not give Luna away. “She told me that the Dark Lord had traveled North and he had hidden himself from even the sight of the Gods. I was tasked to find out what his intentions were. So I followed his steps into Helheim, one of the Norse realms of the dead. It is not a journey I wish to repeat so soon and never again in living flesh.”

“So you believe in blood supremacy?” Black cut in harshly.

Though he was thrown by the sudden accusation, Salazar leveled a dark look at the man. “This is what you have taken from what I just said? You equated the worship of the Gods to blood supremacy? I grow ever weary of arguing this point with you, Black. I do not believe the same things the Dark Lord does. I do not believe in the superiority of mages.”

Black snarled much like a dog would. “Even so. Voldemort has taken the Ministry, most of the English Isles, and you found it prudent to gallivant off on a trip! How are we not to know that it was a trip taken for…”

Salazar cut him off as he slammed his hand against the table. “You will be silent and hear me out, Sirius Black,” he hissed out as he barely kept himself from a slip into parseltongue. He straightened then and cleared his throat. “Forgive me for my outburst, my journey has been long. I am wearied,” he said as he forced his emotions to settle and turned his gaze to each of the assembled witches and wizards. “I was told of the Dark Lord’s journey to Helheim, so I traveled first to the village of Fyrkat, a wizarding community in the North. It is a village that is known to me and I was able to procure a horse for my journey. I never once saw the Dark Lord, but witnessed what he left in his wake.”

With sudden bone deep exhaustion, Salazar lowered himself into his chair again. Helvegr, the path between realms, had drained him and he felt as if it were sheer will that kept him conscious. “I, a living man, stood before Hel, our Lady in Blue.” he breathed out just loud enough for the silent table to hear. “The Death Mother is the caretaker of the dead.” He gave a wane smile and lowered his head in exhaustion before he forced his head up again. “I bargained with her, the Lady of Death.”

Dumbledore had a shrewd look in his eyes, a sharp look in his aged face. “What did you bargain with her?” For all that Dumbledore had rejected his proposal to allow for the practice of old traditions at Hogwarts, Salazar had the suspicion that the man knew more than what he led on. So the dark haired wizard chose his words carefully.

“What my bargain with the Goddess of Death is my own to bear,” he said as he lifted his eyes to meet Dumbledore’s, his mental shields shut tight. “However, part of my deal is that I gave her knowledge that a man who fled from death had entered her realm, that not even the Gods could See his plans. Little escapes her for those who have passed into her borders, so she was aware of him. However, she knew what he wished to seek and little else. For these reasons, and what I offered, she accepted my bargain. Hel pointed me on the path to a man by the name of Angantyr Heidreksson.” Salazar closed his eyes briefly and his brow creased as he remembered this part of his journey. “Náströnd. The Corpse Shores. That is the translation but hardly accurate. Náströnd is where Níðhöggr feasts upon the spiritual bodies of the dead. A punishment afterlife, so to speak, though Christianity might have influenced the beliefs of such a thing as older sources do not speak of Náströnd. Records tell us it is a place for Oathbreakers and murderers as it is not a place for the living so few have traveled it to tell of its horrors. Regardless, it is not a pleasant place to be.”

Black snorted and leaned an elbow against the table before he sneered at Salazar. “Well, you are really selling such a fantastical story,” he said with a voice that practically dripped with sarcasm. “I’ll give you points for good acting, but just where are you going with this?”

Salazar shot the man with a displeased look, at the end of his rope with the older man. He almost wanted to declare an honour duel like he had done with Ronald Weasley, but he held his tongue. Instead, he smiled with too many teeth. “Would you care for more detail, then? Would you care to know how I found Angantyr? How the flesh had been ripped from his bones, that his skull bore a macabre half grin with its one missing eye? How he moved with the creak of old bones? Would you care to watch the memory, Black?” The man in question gave him a dark look in response while the others around them looked a little green. Salazar turned his head away. “I thought not.” He took a breath to steady himself again before he gave Dumbledore a grim look. “The Dark Lord seeks the sword Tyrfing,” he said gravely. The only reaction from the others were confused murmurings.

With an exasperated sigh, Salazar pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wizards of this age, I swear,” he murmured under his breath. “In the North, it is lore that there was a king by the name of Svafrlami. He captured two dwarves, Dvalinn and Durin, where he forced them to forge him a magnificent sword. But, in revenge, they cursed it. While the sword is said to gleam like fire and has a golden hilt that no other can match, it was cursed to kill a man each time that it was drawn and would be used in three evils,” he described to them. “The curse on the sword has since been broken as the three evils have been passed, but it is still a magical sword of great power. The blade will never miss its mark. It will never rust, as well as cut easily through stone and iron. While in the hands of a wizard, I have no doubt also that it can be used to channel greater magic.”

He frowned then. “It is key that we find this sword before the Dark Lord does. Angantyr was the last known owner. We can safely assume that he gave the Dark Lord the same information as he passed on to me, so we must work quickly.” So far, none had interrupted him again but he could see the skeptical faces around him. “According to Angantyr, he placed the sword in a stone coffer in the forest of Murkwood. I have no doubt that the names have since changed, but it will give us a place to start.”

One of the Order members, a witch, suddenly snorted. She sat back in her chair and tossed her head with a scoff, “Oh, you really must be joking now! Dvalinn? Durin? Murkwood? Those are all names from the Lord of the Rings!”

“I beg your pardon?” Salazar asked slowly, both confused and exasperated that no one seemed to take him seriously.

The witch rolled her eyes and waved one of her hands dismissively. “A muggle author wrote a series of fantasy books that are very popular and I read them as a child. All fictional characters!” She scoffed again then and stood up. “You are attention seeking at best and, at worst, wasting our time when we could be devoting it to actually trying to figure out how to defeat you-know-who.” She sniffed at him then and turned her head away. “And I thought only Deatheaters called him the Dark Lord.”

Salazar slowly stood back up as well. “It seems silly to call a mere man by something as asinine as you-know-who or he-who-must-not-be-named. But to use his name is to trigger the usage of the Taboo. He is a madman, yes, but he is also clever and not to be taken lightly. So, in the end, I will not allow myself to seem fearful of the man by calling him you-know-who, but I will also not get into the habit of using his preferred name where it might trigger the Taboo.” He looked down his nose at the short witch.

“If I may,” a voice cut in after a brief silence, the witch red in the face. She did not seem any happier when she realized that it was Malfoy who was speaking. The pale man looked as if he had seen better days, but he held his head up proudly. Long blond hair was pulled back properly into a simple plait without a hair out of place and his robes were immaculate. It was certainly a far cry from the state Salazar had first met the wizard. But the young man had a thin face and deep bags beneath his eyes, his eyes themselves weary. Draco Malfoy. Salazar had not encountered the man often during his short time in the school, his only interaction was the incident where he swore an Oath to not speak of Malfoy’s duties. But as a Deatheater spy, he did not suppose that the man would get along well with the other Order members.

“You speak of going to Helheim, Evans. How long was your journey?” Malfoy asked then as his gaze turned to Salazar. Said man slid back into his seat as he studied the blonde younger man. Malfoy’s eyes told Salazar that the other wizard believed him. If nothing else, he had at least one ally.

Salazar took a moment to gather his thoughts before he responded. “The journey took nine nights into the realm and nine nights in return. In total, my journey has lasted twenty one days altogether.” It was a long time to be away and he could only imagine just what his students thought of him for having taken such a long absence barely a month into term.

Malfoy inclined his head as he held Salazar’s gaze. “In the days after he called us in his rage on August the 14th, the Dark Lord suddenly disappeared. I would say he might have disappeared on the 16th after some quiet inquiries I had made. An acquaintance told me of rumors within the Northern Communities of a man that swept through various villages like a wraith.” He paused here.

While Malfoy paused, possibly to order his thoughts, Salazar looked over to Dumbledore. “The man who gave me a bed to rest in his own home, told me of the same rumors. That a dark-cloaked man was seen like a phantom through various villages.”

“There was unease as no one heard from him for a long time, but then one day he reappeared as if nothing had happened," Malfoy continued after a brief glance to Salazar. "He had left behind instructions for raids while he was gone, perhaps a ruse to hide his disappearance.” His face looked pained as he turned his eyes towards the Headmaster. “When he returned, the Dark Lord had a bright gleam in his eyes as if his madness burned brighter. He would not tell us why he had been gone or what he had done, but he is planning something. That much is for sure.” He gave Dumbledore a significant look.

Black snorted softly, the sound derisive and not full of humour. “Much use you are,” he sneered, and there were murmurs of agreement as some were more scathing than others.

Salazar narrowed his eyes. “Only the Dark Lord knows his own mind,” he said in a clipped voice. “But that does not matter. What we do know is that he is on the trail for a powerful magical weapon. In the hands of the mundane it is powerful enough. In the hands of a clever and powerful wizard? That thought alone should chill you down to your very bones.” He hardened his voice further as he spoke grimly. “Whether or not you believe me is up to your own minds. But if I speak the truth and he does seek out Tyrfing, then where will we be if he does find it because you all sat in your seats and did nothing?” He very nearly hissed by the end of his speech.

The man stood then and swept his cloak to the side. “Now, I have given you my report. Take from it what you like, I have done my duty in telling you. So, now, my plan is to retire to my rooms. To have a hot bath, a hot meal, and rest. In the morrow, I plan to look into everything I can get my hands on about Tyrfing and the location of what was once known at Murkwood. Any one of you is welcome to join me. Good day.” He turned on his heel sharply and stalked out the door. He could hear someone follow after him, but he did not turn to see who as he felt no magic directed at his back. He was too tired to care at this point.

Once they reached the corridor outside the Headmaster’s office, a voice called out to him. “Evans!” The man called out to him finally and Salazar glanced over his shoulder to see it was Malfoy that strode after him. He paused long enough for the younger man to catch up with him and then turned to fully face him. Malfoy offered a hand to him. “I never had the chance to thank you,” the pale haired wizard said as Salazar regarded his outstretched hand. “You have my thanks for both the potion and the Oath.” A hint of a knowing smile played about the man’s lips.

“I have no idea what you refer to,” Salazar said lightly. The Oath had been worded specifically to give him some wiggle room if he ever needed such a thing. Dumbledore might have been placated, but there were always loopholes. Malfoy seemed to understand this, but did not seem overly concerned. But then, the young man lived as a spy. Salazar looked Malfoy over then with a critical eye. “But why then continue upon this path? Why return to his side when your position is so precarious?”

Malfoy was quiet for a moment before he gave a grim smile and put his hand back down at his side once more. “Because I must,” he spoke simply at first, but then huffed out a quick laugh. “What else is there for me? My parents are dead because of my failures and because that madman lost control of his temper. If nothing else, I will see that monster dead for what he had done to my family.”

“There is life outside war,” Salazar responded quietly. He held out his own hand and smiled at the shocked look that passed over Malfoy’s sharp features. “We make our own paths.” Something felt momentous and somehow ironic as Malfoy reached out to grasp Salazar’s hand. The dark haired wizard ignored it as he dropped Malfoy’s hand and gave him a short bow of his head. He turned away again then. He really did want to go to bed. First, he called over his shoulder. “I do doubt that you can show your face anywhere and expect a kind word, so if you need a place of solitude for even a few moments you will find my office is open to you. Simply ask for a house elf and they’ll lead you to my door.” He could not speak about Malfoy’s character yet and if he would be a valuable acquaintance, but the man was a spy in Riddle’s fold. Malfoy might just have some value. But it was not entirely that which drove him to extend his hand to the younger wizard.

He spared one last glance over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner and smirked to himself when he saw the surprised look frozen on Malfoy’s face. He allowed himself a chuckle, then focused on his path to a bath and his bed.

It was much later that night that a storm rolled in. It might not have otherwise been apparent in his dungeon rooms, but his enchanted window was open once more. There had been a light drizzle when he had finally gone to bed, so he had allowed the patter of the raindrops to ease him off into sleep. Now, a loud crash of thunder rattled the window and woke Salazar from his well-earned rest. “Thor,” he grumbled in a half awake state as he threw his arm over his eyes. “Does something anger you?” It was silent for a few moments and he had started to drift back into sleep again, but another cascading clash of thunder jolted him back into wakefulness.

Salazar hissed out a curse and rolled over before he finally climbed out of bed. “Alright, alright. I am out of bed,” he said as he threw on a tunic over his bare chest and quietly padded over to the magical window that was currently enchanted to give him a view of the front gate. He reached out and latched the window shut while he wondered if he should change the view to somewhere better shielded from the storm. It was late and he quite wanted to get some more rest. The rain and darkness of the night shielded his view of the gate anyhow, so there was not much to see. He wondered what had compelled him from bed, thunder aside, but then a flash of lightning lit up the sky suddenly and illuminated two figures before the gate. Both huddled against the rain, but one obviously leaned heavily against the other.

Spurred into action, Salazar dragged on his boots and grabbed his cloak. His wand holster was secured into his forearm as he dashed from the room. As he ran, he slipped his wand into his hand and conjured up a small paper bird. He pointed his wand to his throat then and spoke, “Headmaster, there are two unknowns just outside the castle wards. I am on my way to intercept them now.” He flicked his wand at the bird then to send his message off to Dumbledore.

As he ran, two men suddenly blocked his way and made him skid to a halt. Lupin looked vaguely apologetic and uncomfortable at least while Black appeared thunderous. The man even had his wand out, clenched in his hand. “What a coincidence we would see you running off in the middle of the night to parts unknown,” he snarled softly. “I do not trust you, Evans. Just where are you going in such a hurry this late at night? Your master summon you?”

Salazar tsked in annoyance as his eyes flashed with silver light in his ire. “I installed a magical window in my room that offers a view of the front gate,” he explained sharply. “Two stand before the gates, with one perhaps injured if their stance is to be believed. Come see the truth for your own eyes if you must, but do not hinder me!” His harsh tone seemed to surprise Black enough for Salazar to slip past the two men. As he continued his dash through the halls, the wizard and the werewolf fell into step on either side of him. Salazar rolled his eyes, but at least Black no longer questioned him for the moment.

“Should we not notify Albus?” Lupin interrupted Salazar’s thoughts as he ran beside him.

Though he barely spared the werewolf a glance, Salazar gave a sharp nod. “I have already sent him a message,” he assured the man. It was a spell that Rowena had crafted as a way to quickly send messages within the school.

As he threw open the doors to the entrance hall then, Salazar quickly cast a spell over his cloak to keep off the drenching rain. He quickly took off down the pathway, barely out of breath as they neared the gates at time later. Salazar could make out the form of what looked like Zabini as he leaned heavily against a large grizzled man. Pale moonlit eyes glowed eerily as they watched their approach warily, nearly hidden beneath a matted nest of silver hair. A wolfish grin greeted Salazar as lightning streaked across the sky and lit the area as if it was daytime.

“Oh… Is Ragnarok come, father? Are you released from your chains and come to release me from mine, Loki?” The man laughed roughly before it was cut off by wet coughs.

Salazar narrowed his eyes, but could not respond as the two wizards behind him had already responded to the stranger with rage. Even the gentle wolf Lupin finally showed his metaphorical claws. His amber eyes glowed for once in the dim light, his face awash with anger. “Greyback, what the hell are you doing here?” He snarled, though he sounded more animal than human.

Black tightened his hold on his wand, though he glanced at Salazar. “And what is your connection to him?”

“I do not know the man, Black. Or are you a wolf and not a man, stranger?” Salazar responded as he turned his gaze to regard the grizzled man carefully. “You liken me to Loki. So that would make you Fenrir, the great wolf. But what do you know of Ragnarok?” He was wary of the madness in the eyes of the wolf. He did not look to poison himself with the wolfsbane that Lupin did, but there was a sheen of illness to Greyback’s eyes. Was Greyback even in his right mind?

Greyback barked out a laugh, which made Zabini groan and drop his head from where he had leaned against Greyback’s side. “The Dark Lord seeks to bring about Ragnarok. Perhaps not to the Gods, but certainly what we might liken to it. He has gone mad… far from the man I once knew long ago. He promised my Kin equality and a place, but now all he seeks is death.”

Salazar gave a sharp nod and drew his own wand. “You will be taken to the dungeon infirmary and interrogated,” he declared. “Zabini will be taken to the infirmary for Madame Pomfrey to look over, if you would, Black. Lupin and I can take care of Greyback, can we not?”

“You will forgive me, my boy, but I have never heard of an infirmary being within the dungeons. Though I will agree that Mr. Greyback must not be allowed to escape.” It was Dumbledore’s voice, though Salazar did not turn to greet the man. Black and Lupin remained unmoved.

“Black! See to it that Zabini is taken to the infirmary lest his death be on your hands!” He snapped back, but Black still looked for Dumbledore’s consent before he finally took Zabini from Greyback’s grasp.

“He is Bitten,” Greyback rumbled as Black drew Zabini away with stumbling steps from the bleeding man. “It was the only way to save his life.” Lupin snarled at that, but remained where he was when Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder. Greyback gave a chuckle that ended in a cough. “Regardless of what you think of me, cub, he gave his permission.” He turned his gaze towards Dumbledore then, his movements lethargic. “I request asylum, Headmaster. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” The grizzled wolf collapsed then.

Salazar flicked his wand to levitate Greyback before he hit the ground. “As Slytherin Head of House, Headmaster, it gives me domain over the dungeon halls and its individual wards. In my wanderings to explore every level of the dungeon, cells were revealed to me on the lowest level through a secret door. Greyback will be secure there as I tested the wards myself. I had elves clean the rooms and stock the small infirmary in the occasion it was ever necessary. I had not yet had the opportunity to bring it to your attention.”

Dumbledore gave a serene smile, though Salazar could see the stern lines around the old man’s eyes. “Very well. Lead the way then, Professor Evans, my boy.”

With Lupin’s help, Salazar managed to get Greyback down to the lower dungeons. “It is named the Nechtan Ward,” Salazar said as he motioned towards a plaque above the inside of the door. “It was sealed off, but activated when I pressed against a brick where I, by chance, noticed a carving of the Hogwarts crest.” When they had renovated the broch into a keep, Salazar’s potions lab and classroom had been in the old cellar beneath. He had created a corridor down to where he had created the dormitories and common room so that they might look into the loch. He had created the small infirmary himself in the corridor in the case that a student was hurt by an accident so it was faster than the journey to Helga’s Infirmary.

In the years between their creation of the school to the extensive castle it had become in the present, the dungeons had been expanded to a vast network. There had been cells added at some point for reasons that Salazar could not even begin to guess at, but then they had been renovated further into empty suites or purposeless rooms. These he had converted into suites for Slytherin families with help from the house elves, some of which were now occupied. The Nechtan Ward had been renovated also and relocated. The five small private rooms had been repurposed into cells at some point, and the Ward itself sealed off at a later time. With refugees at Hogwarts, Salazar had hunted down its new location and unsealed it. Though he had thought to reconvert the cells back into their original forms, it was useful now to keep Greyback secured. If he could heal him in the first place.

Salazar glanced up at Lupin as the man shifted just in the field of his vision. His gaze then dropped down to where the werewolf’s hand was curled harshly around his wand. In fact, Lupin’s grip was so great that Salazar thought he might snap the wood. Just what history between the two had warranted such a reaction? It could not be a good one. He shook away the thoughts as he directed his attention to Greyback on the infirmary bed. Salazar flicked his wand then and swirled it in a tight clockwise circle, as he mumbled beneath his breath. Coloured lights arose from the wolf’s prone form and Salazar frowned as he observed them. “Acute silver poisoning alongside high exposure to aconite. Sheer force of will kept him on his feet, I suspect,” he informed Dumbledore who watched quietly nearby. “I can heal him, but he will be unconscious for some time, Headmaster. Once he is healed, I will place him in one of the cells. He will not be able to leave unless purposefully released, I assure you.”

Dumbledore gave a pensive nod before he gave a curious look about the small infirmary room. “Yes, very well. I will go check on our young Mr. Zabini then. Remus, if you would stay behind to keep watch. However, we will likely need your help with our new werewolf,” the headmaster requested of the brown haired man. After a grunted agreement from Lupin, Dumbledore took his leave. Salazar spared them both a glance before he focused on Greyback.

“With respect to you, Master Lupin, I do not believe you would be the right choice in guiding newly Bitten Zabini,” Salazar said as he strode purposefully over to the potions cupboard. He opened one of the many drawers and pulled out a flushing potion. He inspected it carefully before he took quick strides back over to Greyback and uncorked the potion as he went.

Lupin gave him a harsh look, a darker sort of emotion than he had not seen directed from the man. “What are you implying, Evans?” There was a faint growl to the werewolf’s words and his amber eyes still glowed with the power of the wolf buried inside. The man’s anger helped the wolf to fight through the poison that kept it caged. But Salazar barely spared Lupin a glance.

After he had vanished Greyback’s ratty shirt, Salazar pressed his wand against the man’s chest and started to pour the potion. He whispered a spell as he poured the concoction so that the potion seeped into Greyback’s skin. It was more direct than an attempt to force it down the unconscious man’s throat. Once the bottle was empty, Salazar set it aside and glanced up at his angry companion. “How old were you when you were Bitten, Lupin?”

“I was five years old when Greyback snuck into my room and bit me in revenge against my father Lyall,” Lupin snarled while he spit out Greyback’s name. “I spent years being sent to various healers who tried to cure my… my condition, but quite obviously they always failed.”

Salazar gave Lupin a sharp look before he swiftly gathered yet another potion. “I cannot speak for his actions, but have you ever met with any other wolves? Have you ever spent time in a pack, or have you ever only been raised in the wizard’s views of wolves?”

“What would you know of werewolves?” Lupin asked harshly as his hand twitched in an aborted motion to raise his wand.

Preoccupied with how he spelled another potion into Greyback, Salazar did not respond right away. As he monitored the progress of the flushing potion, Salazar did not even look up at Lupin. “Do you know what aconite does to wolves?” He said finally as he sidestepped the question. “It is fatal, especially in high doses, though low doses alone can cause illness. Not unlike what has been done to Greyback here. You must know of the effects of aconite, of wolfsbane. It carries that name for a reason, yet you have been dosing yourself with the Wolfsbane potion, have you not?” It was a recent invention, though the prolonged exposure of aconite in small doses manifested in similar symptoms to that of the use of the Wolfsbane potion.

“It is the only way to control the wolf!” Lupin countered back with another snarl as his hand twitched again. Salazar sent him a disdainful look before he turned his attention back to Greyback. The flushing potion did work, but it cleansed the toxins slowly so they still hindered the numerous lacerations on the man’s body. Still, the silvery veins from the silver poisoning on Greyback’s body had started to recede. Abruptly, the wolf’s eyes flew open and he rolled to his side on the bed. Salazar was out of the way in time for Greyback to vomit a small pool of silver. The dark haired wizard raised a hand to stop Lupin from reacting. “His body is expelling the poison,” he informed the other man as he vanished the foul puddle on the floor. Greyback collapsed back into unconsciousness once more.

Once Greyback was settled back onto the bed, Salazar opened a jar of salve. He used a spell to cleanse his hands and then scooped up some of the creamy salve to spread over the worst of the lacerations on Greyback’s body to help encourage his body to heal them. As he worked, he continued the conversation with Lupin finally. “Does the Wolfsbane potion ease the pain of your transformation?” He asked suddenly without a look. “Does it temper your inner wolf?” He glanced up at Lupin briefly now. “Or does it make the pain worse? Does it make you keep your own mind by caging the wolf, but dulls your senses?”

Salazar was not prepared for Lupin to suddenly lash out and grab onto the front of his tunic, to drag him away from his task. “What the hell are you talking about?” The man growled, a far cry from the mild mannered man that Salazar had originally met.

As he managed to keep a calm head and a neutral face, Salazar brushed off Lupin’s grip. He rounded the bed and turned his attention back to Greyback as he smeared on more salve before he finally corked the bottle used. “What I am saying is,” he spoke lightly, “is that the wolfsbane potion is slowly killing you. You may not want to hear it because of the way you were raised, but it would be of great benefit for you to accept your wolf.” He grabbed some bandages from a cabinet and started to wrap the worst of Greyback’s wounds as they slowly healed. “Being a werewolf does not make you a monster, Remus Lupin. It does not make you a killer.” He gave Lupin a stern look, though it was barely a glance. “I met a pack once. They could change shape at will, not at the whim of the moon. It would always have a call to your nature, but it would not have to govern you.”

After he tied off the last bandage, Salazar used his wand to levitate Greyback into one of the cells. He set a monitoring charm before he locked the door securely behind him. It was then that he gave his full focus to Lupin. The man did not look much calmer, so Salazar strode towards the cabinet and plucked out a vial from one of the drawers. He held it out to Lupin. “A calming draught. Drink.” He refused to budge until Lupin had grudgingly accepted the draught and had downed it. “Now then. I do not expect you to enjoy everything that I have to say, but I think it is in your best interests that you hear it. What you do with it is up to you.”

He started to clean up then, though he could feel Lupin’s eyes on him. “It is hard to say where the first wolves came from,” Salazar commented lightly. “There is conflicting lore. Some say a curse from man, some say a gift from the Gods.” He sank down finally onto the only other bed in the room and rubbed at his eyes. “It is my belief, too, that there are even different species of werewolves. But the one thing that is true for all is that your inner wolf might be described as a separate entity, but it is not. In reality, your inner wolf can be more described as the manifestation of your instincts.” He paused as he looked to meet Lupin’s still angry gaze. Perhaps the calming draught had not been strong enough. “All I can recommend is that you think about it,” Salazar said finally with a weary sigh. “I would have suggested too that you speak with a pack, but that perhaps would best wait until after the war is settled.”

Lupin bared his teeth in a snarl. “Maybe Sirius is right not to trust you. Maybe you really are a Dark wizard.”

Salazar gave him a sharp look. “What is with the obsession of whether or not someone has Dark leanings to their magical core? What should it matter on how my core draws on magic? Your own is Dark oriented because of your condition, is it not? If I really were a Dark wizard, it would be highly hypocritical of you to condemn me.” Lupin seemed to have finally had enough though as he stormed towards the doors. “Lupin! If nothing else, do not think of the wolf as a separate entity. It is you! The manifestation of your soul!” The door slammed shut behind the wolf and Salazar released a sigh.

As he pinched the bridge of his nose, Salazar laid back on the bed. The monitoring spell would alert him if anything happened, and the children did not have class the next day, so he could sleep if he wished. It seemed like a very decent idea. He barely managed to dim the lanterns of the infirmary before he slipped off into sleep.

Late the next morning, Salazar was woken suddenly by the soft chimes of the monitoring spell. Not used to such a late start, he stumbled to his feet in a confused daze. He had only finally shaken away the last webs of sleep when he turned his gaze into Greyback’s cell. The werewolf had just begun to slowly sit up. His eyes thankfully appeared clearer and his movements were not so stiff.

With a quickly conjuration of a paper bird, Salazar then pressed his wand against his throat. “Our guest is awake, Headmaster.” He then sent off the paper construct so he could focus on the healing werewolf. He turned to find that Greyback faced him upon the bed.

“Loki,” Greyback spoke with a hint of a wry smile, as his moonsilver eyes found Salazar’s through the bars.

Salazar gave a bland smile in return that did not quite reach his eyes. “I see you were not so far out of your mind with fever that it made you forgetful. Even so, I would prefer the name Herrick over Loki. While he is not the harbinger of chaos like people like to paint him as, it is not a connection I would like while surrounded by fools.” He received a gravelly chuckle in answer, but nothing more. “But then, now you are surrounded by the same fools, but at least I am not the one in a cage.”

“Has anyone ever called you Silvertongue?” Fenrir said as he slowly climbed to his feet and stubbornly crossed the distance to the door.

Salazar narrowed his eyes. “You cling to strange notions.” Yet, he did not disagree.

Greyback chuckled and wrapped his arms around the bars of the cell to support himself. “My family line is said to trace back all the way to the first Fenrir himself,” he commented with a carefully indifferent shrug. “We have stories that are passed down, father to son. Always sons. And you, Herrick, strike a fair resemblance to the father of my many times great grandfather.” He tilted his head to the side. “But I will concede in the name of plausible alliances.”

The wolf's expression sobered then. “To answer your prodding, the Dark Lord once made us promises. The wizarding world is losing its culture. Practices have been lost because of changing ideologies. Magical creatures have lost rights. The blame for all of this was placed upon the muggleborn among us. Perhaps it does contain a grain of truth with the new ideas they have brought in, but it does not earn them the fate which he plans to dole out to them. Still, the Dark Lord once had a quicksilver tongue and charisma. He appealed to the unease amongst the purebloods. Whether he once believed what he once promised, or he hid his true motives, I cannot say. What is true is that his mind is now gone to madness. His leverage over me, no matter what it’s worth, I cannot hold my tongue against evil and hold truce any longer.”

Salazar regarded Greyback carefully. “And his leverage against you?”

Greyback was silent as he stared down at the shorter man, though Salazar stood just a few bare inches shorter. Finally, the wolf inclined his head as he responded to the dark haired wizard’s question. “My sons. It was in the year of 1970 that the Dark Lord showed his true madness and declared himself a Dark Lord to the public. When I tried to denounce him, I barely managed to escape from him for a year. When my sons were born in the winter months of 1971, they were stolen from me still in their birthing blood. My mate was killed when she was too weak from birthing to protect them. I have never held them, never seen them in person. I was given the ultimatum of my loyalty in exchange for their lives. Even now, once he learns of my betrayal, he will have them killed. It is a high price, but one I will carry with me in exchange for the chance to bring about the Dark Lord’s defeat.”

The men would be four years older than him then. “What are their names?” Salazar asked after a moment, his voice quiet out of respect.

A hint of a smile broke the grim expression of Greyback’s face. “Hati and Skoll, or course. What better namesakes than that of the sons of Fenrir?” For all the seriousness of the situation, Salazar could not stop a brief eye roll. Of course. He should have expected that.

“He who chases the Sun and he who chases the Moon,” a third voice cut in and Salazar turned his head to see that it was Luna. “One who Hates and One who Mocks.” She gave a starry smile. “Both survive and plot, live up to their names as they despise the man who robbed them of their proper childhoods. Both will stand to the aid of he who is loved by the Gods, shares their likeness.” She gave Salazar a significant look, but he could only scowl in reply.

“Again with that nonsense,” Salazar said in clipped tones. He had brushed aside the rambles of fever, but now they fell from the lips of a seer. Just what had he been forced into now?

Luna lifted her head, a mysterious smile on her lips. “Cernunnos Hunts in the forests. Cerridwen stirs her Cauldron and the Morrigan visits battle still. But it is the Aesir and those of their Realms that have their eye on us here.” She touched Salazar’s shoulder. “Loki is neither good nor evil. He is Chaos and Mischief, the revealer of new paths. You might speak to Odinn and he listens, but it is Loki who smiles.”

“It is Loki who brings Ragnarok,” he countered lowly, though he found that he was grasping at straws and not truly believing the words he spoke. He did not believe in Ragnarok, not truly. He had read the Völuspá, an Icelandic text, the only written record of earlier myths but it had been written with Christian influence. It was not something they had put much stock in, though it had become a more prevalent story in modern times and something assumed was a true belief of ancient practioners. But he was letting his thoughts run away from him and Greyback watched them with interest, but said nothing.

Luna gave Salazar a rather placating smile now. “It is Loki who brings about change and reveals new paths," she countered gently. "And even if we were to believe the stories, then yes Loki’s destiny is to bring Ragnarok upon the Realms. Where not even the other gods of Midgard can escape. But even if Ragnarok does come, then the Universe is reborn, it rebuilds, and will end once more with Ragnarok. An endless cycle of death and rebirth. But what we might call Ragnarok is not upon us for a long while yet, and Loki knows its time. If Ragnarok is to come upon us, he will not bring it early.” She kissed Salazar’s cheek then. “But that aside, has it not often fallen to Loki to right the problems often of his own creation?”

Salazar stiffened as the silver in his eyes gleamed against the emerald. “You cannot be blaming this war on me,” he hissed.

With an indulgent smile, Luna placed her hand against Salazar’s cheek and ran a thumb over his bearded jaw. “This war would have happened with you or without you. Throughout the turning of the universe, there are points that always happen. And in the universes where magic exists, there is always this war. Sometimes it is over quickly, sometimes it drags over generations. In some, you are not who you are. In others, you fall to darker paths.” She patted his cheek then and ignored his sneer. “In our universe, your adoption of your brother allowed for him to gain the power he needed to pass it down to a mentally unstable boy who would use the Family Magick for his own ends.”

She turned to Fenrir then. “He is akin to Loki. He is Salazar. He is Herrick. He is the Man displaced of Time. And you will do well to keep it to yourself for now.” She held up a hand to Salazar to stop his protest. “Fenrir Greyback has hands bathed in blood, but he is essential. So are his sons.” She tilted her head back then and looked over to Salazar with a cryptic smile. “He will not speak and you will free his sons.”

“My life was complicated enough without your presence,” Salazar responded stonily. His expression was just as rigid as it hid the tumultuous thoughts beneath. “With you I will end up spending more time outside of Hogwarts than I will actually be able to teach my students and protect them.” Luna only giggled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You will free Hati and Skoll, but the time is not right yet. Plans must be made and even I do not know their location. But the Headmaster approaches, so we will need speak of this at a later time,” Luna said airily before she walked away, though she looked as if her feet barely touched the ground. Salazar had to fight back the urge to bang his head against the bars of the cell, but knew better than to get within reach of Greyback’s grasp.

Greyback rasped out a chuckle then as his silvery eyes ran over Salazar’s rigid form. “Liesmith,” he whispered with a rumbling hum. “I know better than to speak out against the words of a seer. I will keep your secrets and instead share with you mine.” Salazar was unable to snap back a reply as the door opened once more and the Headmaster finally made his appearance.

The old man gave Greyback a smile that crinkled his eyes, but did not quite chip away the ice that his eyes had become. Salazar held back a shiver. He would reserve judgement, but it was wise to be wary as the Headmaster had earned his old age for a reason. “I see Professor Evans has worked his magic,” Dumbeldore’s voice broke through Salazar’s thoughts, the tone lightly joking.

As he leaned more heavily against the bars, Greyback gave a wolfish grin. “Aye,” he responded shortly and offered nothing else.

“I think we out to cut straight to the chase then, Mr. Greyback. Just why are you here?” Dumbledore said the words pleasantly, but there was an underlying edge that Salazar could just make out. Greyback seemed to sense the same as his expression sobered.

“The Dark Lord has completely fallen into madness. Not even his own Deatheaters are safe from his quicksilver wrath. He uses fear and manipulation to keep his Deatheaters in line, just as he always has, but it had become magnified and no longer can fall into any pattern to make sense out of. The Dark Mark is a leash, though I was fortunate to evade that tether.” Greyback frowned. “The Dark Lord has my sons, has used them to keep me in line for many years. Everything I have done under his hand was to keep my sons safe. But now, they will die anyways if that madman is not stopped. He rants about genocide, the complete annihilation of muggles and muggleborns. If he succeeds, the entire world will fall to ruin. I may not be a good man, but I am not an evil one. I do not want to see this world fall to ruin. So I am willing to swear an Oath to provide my knowledge and my strength. But only if you allow me to swear it to Herrick.”

Salazar tried not to visibly give in to his surprise, but he could not stop the way that his eyes widened. “Why your condition?” He spoke calmly instead, an eyebrow cocked.

As he gave a toothy grin, Greyback leaned more heavily against the bars. “I will not trade my leash from a self-proclaimed Dark Lord for one the masses call a Light Lord. But you, Herrick. I will place my trust in you.”

Dumbledore had that damn twinkle in his eyes again, but Salazar chose to ignore it. The Headmaster would not be able to get past his mind shields, though all the man really currently tried to do was skim surface emotions. A manufactured empathy in plainer terms. All Dumbledore would sense would be his surprise and not the hundreds of other thoughts that plagued him. He had no doubt that the old man could search deeper if he wanted to, but Dumbledore already toed the line of breach of privacy. Although it was a useful skill, and certainly not one Dumbledore seemed the type to use. Its one downfall was how adept the opponent’s mind shields might be so they could hide the emotions they did not want to project. Yet, in this day and age, it certainly did not seem to be a skill oft taught. Salazar decided to ignore it and let his exhaustion come forth. “I will accept if you are in agreement, Headmaster,” Salazar spoke resignedly after a moment. He might not fully trust Greyback, but he trusted that Luna knew something she was not telling. Greyback seemed to have some sort of part in it, minor or otherwise was yet to be determined.

Dumbledore only gave a polite smile as he glanced between Salazar and Greyback. “We shall see, Mr. Greyback. For now you will stay here and a house elf will bring you meals. Perhaps we shall have more questions for you later.” The man turned dismissively and disappeared down the short corridor without another word.

“Does the man always wear a vibrant tapestry?” Greyback’s grumble drew Salazar’s attention. “Does he truly enjoy such eccentricity or is it a plot to blind his opponents?” Greyback continued to grumble as he drew away from the cell door, then dropped his hulking frame on the bed.

Salazar tried to hide a smile as he turned away while he did not respond. One could only guess with the Headmaster. “Missy,” he called out then and one of the house elves popped up. She looked up at him with big eyes while she rung her hands in her little tea towel dress, but didn’t say anything. Salazar let his expression gentle a little and he bent down. “Missy, can you retrieve a meal for Greyback, if you would? I would recommend rare red meat if you can, as well as some vegetables. Please keep the oils to a minimum.” He gave the little creature a smile before he straightened. “I would like to task you with seeing to it that he receives filling steady meals.”

“Missy would be honoured, sir!” The house elf squealed before she disappeared quickly with a soft pop.

Without a word yet to Greyback, Salazar straightened and strode into the other room to grab a bottle. He then brought it to Greyback’s cell and placed it on the ledge of the window. “Here. Take it with your meal when Missy brings it. It will help with any of the residual effects of the silver and aconite.” Salazar turned on his heel and left then as Greyback said nothing, before he closed the hidden door to the infirmary behind him.

With only a brief pause, Salazar glanced to the side. Regardless of Luna's words, Salazar could not bring himself to fully trust Greyback. Not yet. “Eolas. Watch over him, please. Alert me if he tries anything,” he said softly as his familiar appeared from the shadows. Once Eolas had hissed his approval and had disappeared, Salazar strode purposefully down the hall. He had a man to see in the infirmary. He would not admit to himself that he was worried about Zabini. Well, he might admit to a slight worry. So he made that his next destination.

As Salazar entered the infirmary later, it was to see Madam Pomfrey as she stood at a cloth divider near one of the metal framed infirmary beds. No students were in the room that he could see, and it appeared that the bed she stood next to was the only one occupied. He was not aware of any private rooms in the infirmary, so he could only assume that the occupant was Zabini. As he approached, he was displeased to find that while it really was Zabini in the bed, Lupin also stood at the bedside.

“You do not have to worry at all, Mr. Zabini. Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey can provide you with the Wolfsbane potion,” Lupin was saying in a gentle voice as Salazar approached. Zabini’s face looked pinched though, his now golden eyes narrowed in distaste. Salazar quickly stepped in and cleared his throat to announce his presence. Lupin’s expression darkened after his momentary surprise and he looked like he fought back a snarl. Zabini actually looked relieved, though Salazar could only hazard a guess why.

“Lycanthropy is not a disease to be treated,” he said as he smoothly ignored the light growl that slipped from Lupin. Pomfrey huffed while she eyed Salazar with distaste. The wizard decided that she was still angry over his successful attempts to dodge her mother henning after the whole spectacle of his arrival with magical exhaustion. That woman sure could hold a grudge as he had not had any other interaction with her thus far. “If you would give us a moment alone, Madam, it would be much appreciated,” he requested lightly.

Pomfrey gave another little huff, but gathered up her skirt and swept away to go rummage about in a cupboard on the other side of the infirmary. Salazar stepped fully around the divider then and leveled his gaze on Lupin. “I know you mean well, but I would like to speak with him alone,” he said firmly. “He will need your support, yes, but let us give him some room to breathe. Yes?” It earned him another glare, but Lupin turned on his heel and stalked away. For such a normally mild mannered man, Salazar only felt a slight bit guilty that he had managed to get beneath the werewolf’s skin. Perhaps it would get Lupin to actually think eventually.

With a shake of his head, Salazar drew out his wand and swirled it carefully while he whispered an enchantment beneath his breath. He then tucked his wand back away before he fully faced Zabini. “We can speak freely now,” he said as he strode closer to the bed. The man certainly looked better than he had earlier. But then, that would be the work of the wolf magic.

Zabini rolled over onto his back and then sat up. He leaned back against the metal frame of the bed and sniffed at the air. “He smells… muddied,” he murmured finally. “Dulled and almost sickly.” Zabini raised his eyes to look at Salazar. His irises had changed to a deep gold and they caught the light whenever he moved his head. There was a life in them that Lupin’s dull amber did not have. “I do not want to take the potion they are pushing off on me,” Zabini continued suddenly with a rasp and drew Salazar’s attention again. The dark skinned man’s lips twisted in a sneer before he looked away towards the bland curtain. “I know how wizards view werewolves. My own father was rather vocal. But I would rather be this than be dead.” He breathed in slowly, a slight shake to his breath. “I can feel it. The wolf.”

After a moment of consideration, Salazar sat down on the edge of the bed and was quiet for a short while longer. Zabini seemed collected, if for his averted eyes. Somehow, Salazar knew that he was not as calm as he appeared. “Lycanthropy is called a curse,” he began lightly and did not miss the way that Zabini’s shoulders tensed. “I think that is misleading. Your body has changed and you are no longer human. But it doesn’t mean that you are cursed.” He gave Zabini a smile if the man cared to look. “You know, the Northmen believed in a concept known as the multi-part soul. Indeed, a few different ancient cultures believed in similar theories, if I remember correctly. Whatever the case, the entire concept would take too long to explain, but if I were to put it simply: there is a part of your soul that they called the Hama, or hamr. It basically amounts to the shroud of our appearance.”

Salazar paused a moment to gauge Zabini’s reaction before he continued. “Human transfigurations would be a temporary transformation of the hamr, for example. Now, there are Norse legends of berserkir and úlfhéðnar, who were warriors that were thought to assume the hamr of a bear or wolf through a battle-frenzy. For those in the wizarding communities of the North, berserkir are actually known to be werebears and úlfhéðnar are werewolves. An intriguing point to this is that these warriors had control over their transformations.” He thought such a thing might appeal to Zabini. He was right, as the younger man’s attention immediately snapped to him.

“The Headmaster and Lupin might press upon you the need to take the Wolfsbane potion in an effort to make the wolf docile during the nights of the full moon,” Salazar said distastefully. “However, I want you to understand that Wolfsbane is a poison and it only acts as a cage on your new instincts. This will make them more volatile once released. Lupin, as an example, has been dosed for so long that he would lose his mind in a transformation if he skipped a dose. He would be a mindless beast, angered at being caged and hurt.” He wanted to get this point across. Zabini would have enough hate from others who did not understand, he did not deserve to hate himself on top of that. “I will not disagree that your transformations at first will be dangerous. They will be incredibly so as you have to fight for control over yourself. We can take preventive measures for that.” He frowned then. “Though the others may not like it, and I do not trust the man fully yet, I would recommend you speak to Greyback. If he was able to pass on the Bite while it was not the full moon, then he has control over his transformation.”

Salazar took a breath. “I tell you all this because If you do not want to take the potion, then they cannot force you.”

“And if Dumbledore threatens to kick me out if I do not?” Zabini’s eyes held more calculation than they did any amount of worry..

Salazar gave a mischievous smile. “He will find he does not have the authority for such a thing,” he said practically in a purr, which startled a laugh out of Zabini. Salazar’s lips curled into a pleased smirk. “Yes. He will especially have no authority if you claim sanctuary or ask for asylum.” Like Greyback had, though he had been just outside of the castle wards. Luckily, Dumbledore had let him in without much hassle. “Ask for asylum from the castle. She will listen.” It would protect his identity and protect one of his Slytherins. That Zabini had already graduated was of no consequence. He had a thing against exiling people from Hogwarts, after all. Perhaps just a bit of bias?

Zabini smirked. “You know an awful lot about the castle. And I spent seven years of schooling here.” The statement was probing, searching.

Salazar smiled as he looked fondly towards the arched ceiling. “Few seem to understand that Hogwarts is sentient. And with the wards returned to full power, there is more she can do.” William had finished with the wards in his absence as all he had needed to do was alter them into their already decided upon changes. The ritual for the cardinal stone had been the largest project. “If you claim sanctuary, and she feels you are not a danger, then she can override whatever Dumbledore may try to inflict.” A little push of his own would not hurt either. But only Hogwarts and he needed to know of it.

“It seems a lot went on while I was gone. You said the wards have been returned to full power. Was there something wrong with them?” Zabini seemed more at ease now. Salazar could not call the man a friend, but he was as close to one as Salazar would allow. So to see that Zabini fared better was a relief.

Salazar inclined his head in response to the question. “Someone had destroyed one of the cardinal stones,” he explained. “It is hard to say how long the wards had been operating with such a weakness, but we were lucky enough to find it. I, along with a small group, performed the ritual to replace the stone.” He frowned then. “Then I, at the word of a seer, traveled to Helheim in pursuit of rumors. The journey was long and I only just returned myself the day before.”

“Helheim… the sword?” Zabini asked slowly as the conversation turned to more serious subjects.

Surprised and suspicious, Salazar narrowed his eyes. “Yes. You must have a story of your own to tell.”

Zabini chuckled, though there was little humour. “I cannot really speak about the details, but the mission that Dumbledore sent me on took me to scout wizarding settlements further north. At the last village, while there just last night, the Dark Lord showed and was asking questions. Well, not so much asking as torturing it from people. I overheard demands about Helheim, a sword, and a forest called Murkwood.”

When Zabini spoke of Northern villages, Salazar could not stop the stab of anxiety that pierced his chest. “Fyrkat?”

Zabini shook his head, but it eased Salazar’s worry only slightly. “No,” the werewolf said simply. There was a faraway look in Zabini’s eyes for a moment as he recalled memories. “I do not think he found what he was looking for. He tried to raze the settlement to the ground in his anger, but the people fought back. He was pushed back, along with the Deatheaters he had brought with him. I was mortally wounded in the fight, but Greyback found me. Thought I’d be dead for sure as Greyback was one of his more well known followers for a time. But he offered me a second chance.” A twisted smile raised the edges of his lips. “I’d rather be a werewolf than be dead, though I know some purebloods would rather be dead than have any creature blood. But seeing as I’m already considered a blood traitor, I do not care what they think.”

“I can understand the sentiment,” Salazar said after a moment. He frowned again then as he considered something from the night before. “How did Greyback come to be injured then? He was not very forthcoming when I questioned him earlier.”

Zabini frowned. “Greyback was already battling fever when he came upon me. He was lucid enough to attempt to tend to my wounds, but I was fading fast. He offered me a second chance and I took it. I took the bite.” Zabini glanced down at his bandaged arm and fiddled with the wrappings. Salazar held out a hand in invitation and started to unwind the bandages when Zabini put his arm in his palm. The removed bandages revealed new pink skin. Zabini started to speak again, his voice softer. “I could feel the magic burning through me. Greyback said I might still not survive. So he apparated us to the only safe haven left for us. Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey was able to keep me alive long enough for the change to complete and start healing my body. The wounds are healed, but she is insisting I remain for observation.”

Salazar snorted and banished the useless bandages. “That woman takes her healer vows too seriously to the point of overbearing.” Helga had been much the same, though she possessed also a rather witty tongue. Perhaps she was not known for it in this time, tales of her personality all but forgotten, but he had enjoyed conversation with her once upon a time. She often used her tongue to berate Godric and him for ill-advised adventures that would end with one of them in need of Helga’s attentions. Or rather, Godric would drag him unwillingly into adventures where Salazar would often find himself with the need to get them both out of trouble.

Salazar looked over the sealed scars before he gave a nod. “Well, if you want my opinion, you do not need stay here any longer. If you wish, I will even help you slip past the Madame.” He smiled a slow smile, which earned him a surprised laugh from Zabini. Salazar chuckled as well before he stood up off of the bed. “Come down to my office with me. I may have a book on werewolves that might interest you.” It was an old book, but would be easy enough to translate with a spell.

As he went over to the edge of the divider, Salazar glanced about. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen as she had likely wandered off to her office. “Come along then. Are you alright to get to your feet?” He asked as he glanced over his shoulder while he slide his wand out of its holster. Zabini only grunted softly as he forced himself to his feet. He looked unstable for a moment, but then straightened and gave Salazar a nod. Salazar dispelled the privacy ward and instead muffled their feet with a different charm. They were out the door shortly after, unnoticed and could barely hold back wild grins. To Salazar there was something that he found exhilarating about an escape from the infirmary and Zabini seemed to share his thoughts. The two shared a chuckle once they had rounded the corner and were out of sight.

As they walked, Zabini’s gaze could not seem to settle on one thing. He seemed distracted by every little thing, though Salazar thought it might have to do with the newly enhanced senses of the man. He hid a private smile. “So what are your plans now?” He asked after a few moments, his hands clasped behind his back as they walked at a sedate pace.

“I suppose I will take it a day at a time,” Zabini responded after a few moments. “I will need to get this new magic under control. The smells, the sights. I can hear a conversation clearly from a corridor down. It is rather distracting.” He did seem a little preoccupied, though Salazar thought he had coped well enough so far. “But once I have it back under control… I am not sure yet still,” Zabini admitted as his voice broke Salazar out of his thoughts. “I doubt Dumbledore will let me out of the castle anytime soon, though I’m sure he’ll try to push that stupid potion off on me in response.”

The two were quiet for a time, both lost to their own thoughts. But as they neared the entrance to the dungeons, Salazar looked to Zabini out of the corner of his eye. “I had an idea, If you are interested,” he started. Zabini’s attention snapped to him and Salazar had to smile as he continued. “I would like to offer you the position of being my teaching assistant. With everything that has happened, it will be easier on me to have someone else to help. I can make do without you, but the offer is there if you so wish.” Luna had been helpful in how she had volunteered to take over his classes while he had been gone, but he thought Zabini might be a better choice in case anything else that might come up. There were certainly going to be things. In hindsight, if he had known just what he had been about to get himself into, he might not have volunteered to become the potion’s professor. But, what was done was done.

As Salazar mused on future possibilities, Zabini was not given a chance to respond to the offer as Granger suddenly appeared from down a nearby corridor. Her hair was a mess of curls and her robes flapped behind her. Salazar’s first instinct was to press against the stone wall so that he would not get in her way, but she grabbed onto his wrist as she darted past to drag him along with her. He would forever deny the startled yelp that slipped through his lips. “Granger? What are you doing?” He barely kept his voice controlled and he could see Zabini trail after them in amusement.

Granger didn’t respond as she dragged him off through the countless stairs and many floors to the Room of Requirement. She gave Zabini a look once they were at the door, but then shrugged it off and invited him inside too. In the room, the space was decorated with a large round table that had numerous maps and old books that littered the surface. George and Frederick were draped over a pair of chairs and Luna was perched on the arm of another. Einar sat at the table, as he looked through some old charts with Draco Malfoy. Somehow, Malfoy’s presence was what surprised him the most. “Evans? Just what have you been up to?” Granger grumbled as she stalked over to the table to drop off the books she held in one arm.

After he shot Zabini a look, Salazar turned back to Granger. “Granger. I am not going to ask again,” he said shortly, annoyed. “What is going on? Why drag me off with hardly a word?”

Granger huffed and turned to face Salazar fully. She waved her hand absently. “I couldn’t make the meeting you had yesterday, as I’m sure you saw,” she said hurriedly as she pulled her unruly curls up into a messy bun. “But I got Malfoy to tell me about it since he seems to be the only one who seems to take you seriously. With Fred, George, and Einar… well, they’re all on your side so I figured they could be helpful. Lovegood just sort of invited herself.” She paused then and placed her hands on her hips. “But enough about that. I want to hear the full story of your journey, from start to finish. Especially about your trip to Helheim. I want details!”

Luna gave a dreamy smile and placed her elbows on the table, her head in her hands. “All of us here will play a part,” she said with a soft hum as her eyes followed something only she could apparently see. Salazar could only give an exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. Oh, Odinn lend him the patience and wisdom to deal with them all, he thought. He huffed out another sigh before he finally approached the table. Well, Luna had been almost straightforward, though what parts they each had to play still remained to be seen.

As he grudgingly sat himself at the table, Salazar called for a house elf and requested lunch be brought. Not even back a day and the hours had been caught in a whirlwind! “Sit. Have any of you eaten lunch yet?” Granger’s flush was answer enough for her and Zabini’s stomach also responded rather loudly. He could not blame Zabini though as he had been caught in the infirmary until now. Still, Salazar could barely hold back a roll of his eyes as he gestured at the table. “Join me then.”

As they ate, Salazar recounted to them the tale of his journey to and from Helheim. The ones gathered here with him would believe in his story rather than have the skepticism of the Order. And those around him now were more likely to be able to help him figure out the riddle of the sword’s location. Assured of these things at least, Salazar told them of Fyrkat and Grani. He described the path to Helheim and told of the weight of the path of the dead, Helvegr. He grudgingly informed them of the bridge’s guard and his payment of the horcrux when Luna asked innocently - yet pointedly - about his deal with Hel. He spoke about Hel’s hall and his journey to and through Náströnd. His story finished with Angantyr’s words and his trek back to Hogwarts.

When he finally finished, Salazar took a long drink from his goblet. Luna gave him a wispy smile. Both Zabini and Malfoy were hard to read while the twins appeared to be deep in a private conversation. Einar looked thoughtful, but Granger practically vibrated with energy as she no doubt tried to contain her questions and enthusiasm. “What is a horcrux?” Was her first question of what was likely many.

Salazar was silent for a moment as he regarded her question. Finally, he looked over to Granger. “It is a very black magic,” he started out, but was interrupted by Granger asking about black magic. Salazar held back his amusement. “Dark magic demands sacrifice, correct? Sacrifice comes from either the caster or the victim of the spell. With black magic, the sacrifice required is often that of a life. If not many lives.”

“So Horcruxes require a life to be destroyed so it may be created?” Granger asked in dawning horror as she looked like she had started to put some of the pieces together. A few of the others looked vaguely sick at the thought of horcruxes while Einar looked grim. “And Vol… Vol… Riddle, he made these?”

With a little nod, Salazar ran his fingers over the rim of his goblet. “The soul is mult-faceted,” he said with a brief glance to Zabini first before he looked to each of the others. Only Einar seemed to understand. “The fylgja is the core essence of our person, the part of our soul that most would solely label as the soul. To create a Horcrux, one must rip this portion of their soul into pieces and stick one of those pieces into an object through a sacrificial act that claims a life. Murder.” He frowned a bit then and gently touched his cheek. “It is rare for a living creature to be used as a vessel, but it is possible. What the question is now is how many of these horcruxes has the man made?”

Granger bit her lip then. “And you… you had a horcrux in you to have given it to uh, what was her name?”

“Móðguðr,” Salazar provided. “And yes.” He paused a moment then and leaned back in his chair. Finally, he gave a sigh. He did not particularly enjoy the need to speak about himself, especially his secrets. “The truth is that ten years ago I was in an incident. What exactly, I do not know. But the years before I turned fifteen, I cannot recall them as I have no memory. But given the time when the Dark Lord was defeated, I must have been anywhere between birth and five years old when he made me a vessel of one of his horcruxes.”

“A fractured soul easily chips,” Luna said airily, but Salazar ignored her. As did Granger.

“So Herrick Evans? Is that really your name?” Granger pushed while she nibbled on her lower lip again. “What of your story about how you grew up on a fen?”

Einar cleared his throat. “Herrick is his name, yes. One of them at least. I named him Herrick as he had no other name.”

A smile twisted Salazar’s lips. “Memory is a funny thing. We can take names as our own if we cannot recall whether or not they truly belong to us. I knew the name Evans as it swam fleeting through my memory. It must have been mine as far as I knew, so I took it as my own. Herrick was given to me by EInar so it is much more of mine than anything else.” It was a twist of the story, though held grains of truth. It was funny though… he had taken the name Salazar Slytherin because he had remembered it in a foggy memory. In a paradox of time, he had created himself. He had become Salazar to pass down the name to be in a memory from his original timeline. He was Salazar Slytherin, but who he was before was still not known to him. The clues were gathering and he had his suspicions, but time was a strange thing. He had barely even admitted to himself that this here had been his original timeline.

Salazar shook his head. “And just because I do not have the memories of things, does not make them true. I did live on the fen for a time.” A very short time and not in the capacity he had originally told them.

Granger pressed her lips into a fine line. “Yes, I suppose so, but who are you then? Who are you really that you would have come into contact with Riddle but come out of it alive? Protected even, we can assume. The man would want to keep his horcrux safe. Perhaps the son of a death eater? You would have been too young to be a deatheater yourself.”

Zabini snorted softly and shook his head. “As far as I know, none of the families under Riddle’s thumb ever had a son go mysteriously missing. Herrick does not have the traits of the families anyhow. Maybe the Blacks, but Sirius Black never had a son and Regulus Black never did either. Narcissa became a Malfoy and I know Draco here doesn’t have any siblings. Bellatrix married into the Lestrange family, but never had any sons.” Salazar glanced at the man who gave him a smirk in return. “Oh, and do call me Blaise, Herrick.”

“A half-blood self-named lord knows the power new blood brings to old lines. Only another half-blood would be able to match him,” Luna said suddenly and finally brought all attention to her. Salazar’s brow furrowed as he pondered the seer’s words. So he was a half-blood? There was nothing wrong with it, but it was certainly another piece of the puzzle. And it seemed that perhaps Luna knew who he was, though she would not tell him outright. She gave him a knowing smile then and he had to fight not to scowl.

They all looked to him then and Salazar was struck by the impulse to growl at them. “There has to be something important about you to the war,” Granger murmured. “Maybe if we could figure out who you are, it would give us answers. At least what we know is that you had to have been in the British Isles around Riddle’s first reign of terror. At least, towards the end of it. How old were you when Riddle was first defeated?” There was something in her eyes that spoke of an attempt to put together the pieces, but something did not quite add up to where she thought it should.

Salazar was quiet for a moment as he thought it over and did the maths in his head. “I was probably five or six years old, if my calculations are correct.” He missed the way that the twins glanced at each other.

“So you are about five years older than us,” Granger mused. “Or, Zabini, Dracon, and me that is. Only about three years older than the twins.”

She opened her mouth to continue, but George slipped from his spot and grabbed hold of one of Salazar’s arms. “Excuse us for a moment!” He said as Frederick came up on Salazar’s other side. A door appeared in the Room that led to a room barely large enough for a closet. George locked the door behind them and shot up a privacy ward.

Salazar rounded on the two of them as he yanked his arm out of Frederick’s grip. “Just what is the meaning of this?” He hissed, already exhausted and not in any sort of mood to deal with their shenanigans. The two younger wizards glanced between each other before they gave Salazar a more solemn look than he had ever seen on them before.

“We are sure we know who you are. Suspect at least,” they told him. Salazar found he could not even respond as his mouth dropped open. He had gone to speak, but had completely lost whatever it was he had been about to say. The two didn’t even comment. “We figure… something happened. There was a great surge of magic and it sent you far into the past. You became Salazar Slytherin. You are Salazar Slytherin. No disputing that. You spent what sounds like ten years there… gotta say you’re a remarkable wizard, you are. Legends don’t really live up to the reality!” They ignored Salazar’s derisive snort as they rambled. Salazar waited impatiently for them to get to the point. “Something else happened then. Another surge of magic. Magic has a mind of its own when it wants to, so there must be a reason for what happened. You were sent back to your original timeline. But… time doesn’t flow the way we think it does. Wibbly wobbly and all that. You spent ten years in the past, but only five years have passed here while you were gone.”

Salazar had the urge to cross his arms defensively across his chest. “What is your proof?” He demanded first. Everything they said did eerily line up with what he too suspected had happened. “And who do you think I am?”

“Proof is your scar. Shaped like a thunderbolt at its source, as everyone says. It’s a unique curse scar to you, Harry. Especially if there was a horcrux in it. You were born Harry Potter.” The words were said with certainty, if also gently. “There are also the little things. You have changed so much from the boy we all thought we knew. You were a scrawny, tiny little awkward teenager. But now you’ve really filled out and managed a serious growth spurt. Your scar lengthened and you no longer wear glasses. Even your accent and mannerisms are different.” Salazar narrowed his eyes. If he had not suspected it himself, he might have dismissed the twins.

Still, it was like he had been hit in the chest. All his breath was stolen from him. He wanted to deny it. But the truth was, he had spent the time here already in denial of the facts that lay before him. His memory loss. His dreams. The scar. Even his looks. All of it pointed to the truth. Somehow, he had once been Harry Potter. But he no longer knew Harry Potter. It was not him any longer. He was now Salazar Slytherin. And Harry Potter had once been important to the people here. How did he explain his absence? That he had been gone for ten years while they had only lived five more? How did he explain the lies? It would be far worse to explain too that he was Salazar Slytherin, because that was who he was now.

“Do not tell anyone else,” he said firmly while he pointedly ignored the slight crack in his voice. “I am no longer Harry Potter. I do not know who he is anymore.” He gave them a glare then. “You could have handled that better, rather than drag me off so suspiciously.” He dispelled the ward with a sharp flick of his wand and brushed past them to step out the door.

“Herrick? Is everything alright? What was that about?” Granger looked concerned as she rose to her feet when they finally reappeared again.

But Salazar shook his head and made a sharp motion with his hand while he shot the twins another glare. “It is nothing for you to worry about,” he told them. “Rather, just poor timing.” He returned to the table but did not sit down. “For now, I want us not to focus on what-ifs. I am Herrick and that will be enough for now until such time that it is not. We have other things to worry about as we will need to find out the horcruxes that Riddle has created so I may send them to Hel as per my agreement with her.” He turned his sharp gaze onto each of them. “I would like to stress that, for now, all of this remains among us. What we discuss here does not leave this room.”

Granger hit her hands on the table in surprise. “But Professor Dumbledore…!”

“No!” Salazar cut her off sharply, which startled her and a few of the others. He took a deep breath then and straightened his shoulder. “No,” he repeated. “Do not tell anyone. Something tells me that the Headmaster has already known about the Horcruxes, but has not shared the information. His reasoning is his own, but it does not change my choice,” Salazar said firmly. “But whether or not this is true is not the most important thing. Our knowledge of the horcruxes is a sensitive topic. We must keep the information close or else it might fall into the wrong hands. If Riddle knows that we search for his horcruxes, then he will guard them in a way we have no counter before it is too late. For now, we have the advantage of surprise.” He looked to Malfoy out of the corner of his eyes. The blonde gave a sharp nod, his expression both grim and determined.

Salazar paused then and looked back to Granger. “For now, my past is not a priority. Our priority is to research Riddle and his past. Horcruxes are often objects that hold great meaning to those that create them. What sort of objects would he use to create his horcruxes? Though it is uncommon for a wizard to create more than one horcrux, we can safely assume he might have many. One he placed in me. Yet he still had one available to bring himself back to a corporeal body. This tells me he was paranoid enough to have created more than one. Those may be the only ones, but my guess is he created more. So our task now is to search for Tyrfing and to research Riddle.”

“Now, if you would excuse me, I have some things that I need to tend to. Luna, if you would accompany me,” he said quietly before he turned on his heel. He was out the door before anyone could say differently. Luna followed him quickly, but she seemed to sense his mood thankfully as she kept quiet until they had reached his office. There, she kicked off her shoes and sat crosslegged on the chair. Salazar took his own seat and pulled his loose braid over his shoulder as he sat back. “You knew,” he said quietly, his eyes on the blonde woman. He did not need to explain what he meant.

Luna drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. “You have the mark of Sowilo on your brow, just as I said before. The gods have always been aware of you, Harry Potter. They know your past and your many possible lives. In every world and every timeline, you hold importance.”

Salazar could not pretend to understand what Luna spoke of. “Be as it may, why did you not tell me?” It was one thing to have suspicions that were convenient to ignore, and quite another to have proof and need to confront the truth.

“You were not ready yet,” Luna said simply. “It was not my place to interfere. I was to merely watch and send you in the right direction. The truth would come to you when it was time.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Your memories will return. They already have been, haven’t they? They will come in the pieces you need to deal with them. You are Harry Potter. But you are also Salazar Slytherin. You are Herrick. Who you are is just as important as who you were. Finding the truth does not mean you have to trade one for the other. Remember that.”

So she said. Salazar shook his head and turned his gaze to the pile of graded essays on the corner of his desk. “How were the students?” He said to change the subject as he was no longer willing to discuss this topic any longer until he had the chance to sort through what he could remember. There was much he needed to figure out and to understand how so he could approach the problem. In any regard, it would never be as simple as to just declare himself as the missing Potter boy. Besides, just as he had told the others, there were other things to think about.

One of which was that it was only a few short weeks until Winternight. Samhain and Vetrnaetr were observed on this night and he had promised his Slytherins a proper feast. Blaise he remembered he had invited as well, and the young man could do with a distraction such as that. They all could really.

The next day was Sunday. He would have all of today and all of the next day to prepare to return to his classes. He could also put some thought into how he would prepare for the Winternight festival. With the families of some of his Slytherins now in the castle, they too would want to be included. If he had his way, he would have done it outside and within the Great Hall like in ages now far past. But he did not think some of the others would look too kindly upon it. But perhaps he could make use of the Room of Requirement’s abilities, just as they had done for the ritual preparation. The castle too would be more than happy to help him hide the festivities from the Headmaster. So that was settled at least.

“And they say my head is the one in the clouds,” a lightly laughing voice broke Salazar from his thoughts and he realized he had been staring at the pile of essays for several minutes without hearing what Luna was telling him.

As he quickly cleared his throat, Salazar straightened in his seat. “Forgive me. Would you mind repeating yourself?” Luna only laughed before she told Salazar again what had gone on during his three weeks away from the school. At least the classes had progressed along where he had wanted them to be. He could only hope though that his absence would not affect his relationship with his little snakelings. Perhaps he should pay them a visit.

Once Luna had left, Salazar pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and carefully scribed a note for his Slytherins. After lunch on the morrow, he requested their presence in the Slytherin lecture hall. With a simple spell, he had the note duplicated into enough for every student. A request to a house elf had each short letter placed upon his students’ beds for them to find. With that done, he had only his thoughts to occupy him.

‘The scent of death still clings to you,’ a voice stirred him from his thoughts and Salazar looked up in time to see the flash of flame that heralded the arrival of Fawkes. The phoenix rustled his feathers as he made himself comfortable on the back of the chair that Luna had not long since vacated.

“And you are looking much better,” Salazar retorted dryly. “But what has brought the great Fawkes to seek me out?” Fawkes awarded him with an unimpressed stare, but did not respond. Salazar gave a heavy sigh and leaned back in his own chair. “You know, do you not? You have always known. Who I was originally.” It was the heaviest thing on his mind and he was tired of others knowing personal secrets of his that he did not know himself.

Fawkes trilled with a toss of his head. ‘When you arrived as a young boy, I knew.’ If phoenixes could appear sly, then that was the sort of expression that appeared on the bird’s face. ‘In the Chamber, it was not loyalty to Dumbledore that summoned me to bring you the Sorting Hat.’

A small memory sparked in Salazar’s mind and he frowned. “Godric’s sword. It gave me Godric’s sword. And the Headmaster had the gall to tell me that only a true Gryffindor could pull such a thing from that infernal hat!”

The trilling that came from Fawkes could only be a laugh. ‘You certainly did Godric’s House proud as a young boy,’ the creature warbled in amusement much to Salazar’s chagrin. The phoenix quieted then. ‘Godric searched for you, Salazar Slytherin. Being unable to find you… it drove him mad. He ordered me to watch over his son, but never returned himself. My bond to him severed several months after he left the boy with Rowena. The animosity between the two Houses began because his son hated you for stealing away his father no matter that I told him that it was not your fault. He hated you, but he hated his own father as well.’

If this was supposed to make him feel better somehow, it certainly was not the way to go about it. Salazar’s jaw clenched. “Is it your intention to make me feel guilt over Godric’s madness? He is the one who banished me,” the wizard said stiffly as he stood up from his desk and turned his back on the phoenix.

‘I merely speak to you the truth, Salazar Slytherin. It is to make you understand. The animosity between your two Houses was not because of any of Godric’s intentions. He loved you dearly.’

Salazar’s fists clenched. “Enough, Fawkes. I understand. Godric felt guilt for what he did to me. He searched for me, abandoned his own son to try to find me. But it does not lessen his betrayal. So get out. I have enough to think about without you pressing me. Whatever you came down here to do, I do not want to hear it. So get out.” He did not turn around until he had heard the rustle of feathers that marked Fawkes’ departure. What did it matter that Godric felt guilt over his actions? The man he had loved as his brother had betrayed him as deeply as Cayden had done, if not deeper. That was not a wound so easily healed.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

Salazar’s fists clenched. “Enough, Fawkes. I understand. Godric felt guilt for what he did to me. He searched for me, abandoned his own son to try to find me. But it does not lessen his betrayal. So get out. I have enough to think about without you pressing me. Whatever you came down here to do, I do not want to hear it. So get out.” He did not turn around until he had heard the rustle of feathers that marked Fawkes’ departure. What did it matter that Godric felt guilt over his actions? The man he had loved as his brother had betrayed him as deeply as Cayden had done, if not deeper. That was not a wound so easily healed.

Chapter Twelve

The course of the next few weeks were quiet in comparison to everything that had already happened. After the attack on the Ministry, there were raids but the Dark Lord had been otherwise quiet. He had not appeared in the Northern villages again, for which Salazar was thankful. But it left everyone on edge to have the madman so quiet. Salazar felt like they were on a knife point and things could change. And quickly. But much of Salazar’s time had been taken up by his Head duties, and his obligations as a professor. When he did not have these tasks to attend to, he spent time with research on Riddle or possible locations for Tyrfing. He spent little time to fret over the reveal of his identity, or what-ifs about Godric. He had more things to worry about as no one else seemed to have caught on and he was not sure what he would do about it anyways.

His memories had started to slowly trickle back, though they mostly took over his dreams. They seemed to center more on his early childhood for the moment, though he had received small flashes of memories of the time he had spent at Hogwarts as Harry Potter. It had been rather disconcerting to see Weasley and Granger as close companions in these memories. He did have to wonder on childhood circumstances that would lead him to the company of Ronald Weasley. Perhaps that would be revealed to him in time. In the meantime, he was thankful that he did not have to interact with the younger man very often. Being around Granger was awkward enough.

His returning memories aside, he focused most of his attention on the approach of Vetrnaetr and Samhain. Though there were so many things to worry over, Salazar knew that the children and their families were in need of a good break. While it was unfortunate that he could not spread it to the entirety of the school, he had decided to do what he could for those he had the ability. The twins especially were invaluable in the endeavor to quietly invite those who would enjoy the more traditional festivities, especially those outside of Slytherin. They had to be careful so Dumbledore would not find out.

With the help of the twins, and several of the others, they were able to plan for a festive night. Normally the festivities would last for several days in the Northern celebration of Vetrnaetr, but long ago Salazar and Godric had syncratized the festivities of Samhain and Vetraetr so that everyone in the castle would have a way to celebrate. They had done that with many holidays, in actuality. There was no set calendar of holidays amongst the Norse, so they had chosen those they had felt were most important. Vetrnaetr was typically based upon the full moon, whereas Samhain had been celebrated often at the end of harvest. The actual day could fluctuate based upon the year, but they had decided to choose a day to celebrate both. And, in times past, the little village of Hogsmeade would have been included as well. With their celebration in the present day, Granger had also been more than helpful in her research on more modern practices so they would be familiar to those who participated. She had also roped in Malfoy, Blaise, and Luna to gain their help. The Weasley sons, Ronald excluded, had not been able to help out, but they had also been invited along with Lugh and William’s wife Fleur.

While traditionally the festivities would have started in the Great Hall for the feast and then had made its way out to the grounds for the bonfires and other activities, they had decided to make use of the Room of Requirement. Hogwarts had been more than happy to provide for them, her magic feeding into the complexities of the Room. Because Samhain - or Halloween as most modern mages had taken to calling it - fell on a Tuesday of that year, Dumbledore had decided to let all of the children have the day off as he cited their eagerness for the Halloween Feast would steal their attention. Salazar was just glad because it allowed them to finish with the preparations for the festival. He had attended the Halloween Feast along with all the others, but had been disgusted to find that the majority of the food was sweets. The children would be so sick from an overload of sweets, he thought. He picked at a few things, but claimed he did not have much of a sweet tooth when pressed. The floating pumpkins were a fun touch though, he had to admit.

Once the children had all made their way back to their dorms, they had to wait until curfew before they could finally get started. The twins had been tasked with the safe escort of the families not from Slytherin as they had the Marauder’s Map. For his own students, a polite request to the castle had provided a shortcut from the dungeons to just outside the doors to the Room. Blaise was there to help guide the families and students through the shortcut while Granger kept a lookout at the end of the hallway. Once the twins showed up with their group as well, Granger finished with the escort to the Room. As the first of the families arrived, Salazar was there to greet them and invite them inside. He would be the last to enter so he could lock the door behind them. He did not want them to be bothered.

After he had closed the doors behind him, Salazar took a moment to marvel in the work that everyone had done. The doorway to the rest of the castle stood now as an empty archway in what appeared to be a very large grove in the middle of a dark forest. There were large standing stones that ringed the grove with glowing runes. It would prevent anyone from wandering off into the wizarding space. It only added to the sort of magical atmosphere of the grove. Faerie lights glittered in the nearby boughs of the trees, where a light breeze made the flame coloured leaves dance. Low tables were laden with earthy decorations that sat beneath large pergolas draped with multi-coloured cloths of earthy tones. Garlands of leaves and autumn berries hung from the beams with twinkling faerie lights. Pillows served as seating, though no one had taken a seat just yet. It was simple and homey, yet touched with a bit of otherworldliness. He could see the awe on many of their faces as he stepped up to and then passed the assembled group.

He took a spot at the center of the grove, three prepared bonfires behind him that were ready to be lit. Beyond them were small tents with low tables that had been set up. Some looked at them curiously, but Salazar spread his hands as he called out to get their attention. “Welcome and well met,” he said as the assembled gathering quieted. “Now, I know that all of us had an early meal in the Great Hall that was mostly comprised of sweets, of course, so I doubt any of us are extremely hungry.” He heard a few muffled giggles and hid a smile of his own. He had warned them not to eat too much at the Hogwarts’ feast, but what child could ignore the call of sweets? “I thought we might change things around a little instead.” He motioned towards the bonfires and tents that were behind him. “First, we shall begin with the lighting of the bonfires.”

Salazar stepped over to a table that had been set up with some supplies. He picked up a small basket and looked over the gathered crowd. With a smile then, he nodded towards a set of third year twins that stood near the front of the crowd with their parents. “Sigurd? Sigurn? Would you like to help me light them?”

At their over eager nods, he chuckled and motioned them closer. They hurried over and Salazar held out the basket to them. They both reached in and selected long bundles of herbs that had been tied together. Salazar gave them an encouraging smile before he grabbed the last bundle and then set the basket aside. He directed Sigurn to stand in front of the left bonfire and Sigurd to stand at the right one. He took his place in front of the middle one and then turned to face the group again. He held the bundle aloft so the others could see them. “These herbs are sage and rosemary,” he told them. “They were grown here at Hogwarts. Sage is a symbol of purification and wisdom. Rosemary honours our ancestors.”

Salazar lowered the bundle and then cupped his free hand around it. He gathered up a bit of wild magic from the earth beneath him and then breathed out to light the tip of the bundle with a spark. He let it catch before he sent out two more sparks to light the bundles the twins held. Once he was sure their bundles had lit, he turned to face the bonfire and took a deep breath. With the burning herbs held aloft, Salazar began to speak. “Tonight is the night when the gateway between our world and those of the next is thinnest. Tonight is the night to call out to those who came before. Tonight we honour our ancestors. Spirits of our fathers and mothers, we call to you, and welcome you to join us for this night. You watch over us always, protecting and guiding us, and we thank you. Your blood runs in our veins, your spirit is in our hearts, your memories are in our souls. With the gift of remembrance, we remember all of you. You are dead but never forgotten, and you live on within us, and within those who are yet to come.” He could hear others as they murmured the words behind him.

Salazar then tossed the burning herbs amongst the logs. Sigrun and Sigurd copied his movement before they hurried back to stand with their parents. It took a moment, but all three bonfires caught and went up in flames. Salazar took a careful step back before they caught and closed his eyes to enjoy the warmth as it washed over him. The others all stood silently as well until Salazar turned and motioned to the other basket that had been prepared on the table. “Please. Any of you who wish to part with anything, write it on the provided sheets of paper. You only need to grasp the charmed parchment and whisper what you wish to write. Then throw it to the flames. There are other stations in the tents beyond to enjoy once you are finished.”

The tents with their low tables were various booths that had been set up with different divination methods, some modern and some more ancient in root. Granger had been particularly against these until Blaise had explained it to her more in depth. This night it was recognized that the veil between their world and that of the various afterlifes was at its thinnest, so the divination tools were not meant to look to the future but to help with communication with the dead. And for those who wished it, the tools could also be used in a more meditative manner to instead focus on oneself and what one wanted to change for their future. They had provided runes, tarot cards, ogham staves, crystal balls, mirrors, candles, pendulums, and scrying bowls of water. Salazar had wanted to cover whatever he could think of for the people to use, to have whatever they felt most comfortable.

As the group broke up to explore the tents, Salazar instead wandered over to one of the standing stones so he could watch. Some had gone off as individuals to either meditate or to have private communications with those they had lost. He could see a great many families grouped together to reach out to their ancestors. The Weasleys he could see all grouped together. Lugh had gone off to be with his sister, the two of them at one of the stations that had a scrying bowl. Malfoy and Blaise were off in another corner on either side of a table with tarot cards. Luna he could see had dragged Granger over to the bonfires. While this feast was a solemn one, he could see smiles amongst the tears and he could hear laughter. It brought a smile to his own lips. This was what he would fight to protect.

“It is good to see you smile, Salazar. When Godric could not find you, I had feared that we had stolen your smile from you… and I dreaded what might have happened.”

Salazar found himself starting as a wispy voice breathed in his ear, a voice that sounded as if he heard it through a heavy curtain. He turned sharply on his heel to see Helga and Rowena there, as both watched him with sad smiles. At first, Salazar could not find the words to speak to Helga, though his spine was rigid. It was after a moment that he was able to hiss, “And why should you care that you… stole my smile, as you say? You banished me from my home!” Helga had been the one to speak and he hissed the words at her, but he glanced over to Rowena as well. She, at least, had the sense to turn her head away in shame and could not meet his eyes.

Helga clasped her hands over her chest and bowed her head. “Nothing I do could ever take back what we said, or what we refused to say,” she whispered and then raised her head once more to look Salazar in the eye. “But we still owe you an explanation even if it cannot fix the wrongs we have done. We want you to know that it was a spell, Salazar. I hate to say this, but your brother bewitched our minds and turned us against you.” Helga spoke hesitantly, though her tone was firm. The shimmery images of the women looked far older than Salazar remembered. Funny, since he had only just seen them a few short months ago. Time was a strange thing, he thought nearly hysterically. Helga did not seem to notice. “The parasitic magic sank into our minds like a poisonous cloud, infecting every nook and deep hole. It did it slowly so that we did not even realize what had happened. It felt like something had boiled over and we could not keep our logic, to think through our next course of action. And it had you banished.” She looked so guilty that it almost made Salazar feel like he should be the guilty one.

It was this near feeling of guilt that drew up anger inside his chest instead. “Yes, Fawkes told me that the guilt made Godric go mad and disappear,” he bit out with a twist of his lips. “Do you think I should feel sorry for him? You say Cayden’s treachery ran deep, but what does that give me to heal? I trusted you all! I built Hogwarts with you and taught many of those children that had no family but me!” He hit his open palm against his chest, appalled to feel that tears had gathered in his eyes. “Do I not feel the right to be angry, to be hurt? Do you think all should just be bygones and I shall forgive you? You were not the only victim to fall to Cayden’s curse!” A tear slid down his cheek before he could stop it. “I killed my brother, Helga! The brother I had loved and given my name! Just because I know…” Salazar’s voice broke. He quickly cleared his throat and looked away. “Just because I know how deep Cayden’s betrayal ran, it does not ease the pain of your betrayal. I need time.”

Helga was silent for a moment before her image started to fade away. Rowena had still said nothing, though tears gleamed like silver on her aged face. She too started to fade and finally spoke with an apology that was nearly lost to the wind. Helga reached out a hand as if she could touch Salazar. “For what it is worth, Salazar, I am sorry. Rowena is sorry. We should have realized that something was wrong, we should have fought harder against the compulsion. I am sorry, Salazar.” She gave a watery smile that held an age of pain. “It was good to see you again, my dear friend. Be well.” She disappeared along with Rowena a moment later and Salazar breathed out a sigh.

It took him several minutes to get himself back under control to the point that he felt comfortable enough to join the others. He could see other phantoms as they roamed about, called forth to be with family. They were different from the ghosts that occupied Hogwarts as Hogwarts’ ghosts had not yet gone beyond the pale. These phantoms were barely there, as if out of focus. They returned from beyond the veil to visit with loved ones but would be gone by morning. Before he could move though, another pair of phantoms moved from the shadows of a nearby tree. They were shielded from the view of others and smiled at him in a way that made him ache.  

The couple were very young. Perhaps early twenties, so appeared younger than he was now. The young man wore glasses beneath a rat’s nest of hair that was so painfully familiar. The woman had vibrant red hair, bright even through the faded greyness of their forms. Salazar hesitated before he stepped closer to them as if drawn. The woman reached out her hands and looked up into his eyes. Her hands hovered just over his cheeks, unable to touch but so very close. Tears dripped down her cheeks and she smiled so sadly that Salazar thought he might break down as well. He knew them. He knew them. They were a part of his soul. But why could he not remember their names?

“We are so proud of you, Harry,” the man whispered with a voice that disappeared into the wind. Salazar’s eyes snapped to him. He smiled just as sadly as the woman. “Whatever you have done, whatever life you have led. We are so very proud.”

The woman sobbed softly and pulled her hands back. “My baby boy. We are so sorry we left you alone, that you had to grow up the way you did.” She smiled again then, her eyes creasing with the width of her smile. “But you have grown to be better than anything I could have ever hoped.” She gave a watery laugh. “Perhaps we should have named you Herrick in the first place. It certainly suits you.”

The man chuckled a bit and looked down at his companion. “I told you we should have,” he stated with humour before he sobered and looked back to Salazar. “Harry, my son, we do not have long to linger. We will not put you in danger of being recognized. But we wanted to see you and to pass on a message. Even if Dumbledore ever finds out who you are, somehow I doubt he’ll pass this along. There is a prophecy that you are part of. It was why we went into hiding.” Not another damn prophecy, Salazar thought. He had enough of prophecies with Luna. But Salazar said nothing as the man, his father, continued. “Luckily, Dumbledore told us its contents when he said we must go into hiding. It states: ‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies....’”

Salazar could only stare at his father, barely able to hold back the outburst that felt at the tip of his tongue. The woman, his mother, smiled sadly. “Dumbledore seems to think that the power it mentions is love, but that is a load of hogwash. I loved you dearly, but I saved your life with a ritual with my life as a sacrifice.” Just as he had suspected, then. “But, whatever this power is, you are the one who is prophesied to defeat that bastard.” She reached her hands out to him again then and floated close to ghost a kiss over his forehead. “I hate that this burden has been placed upon your shoulders, but there is no one better. We are here by your side always, baby.” His father’s hand hovered over his shoulder and the two gave him smiles once more. “We love you, Harry.” With those words, they disappeared into mist.

Well, if he had not already been convinced that he had once been Harry Potter, that was certainly the final nail in the coffin. He cursed softly and dragged a hand over his face. “I hope to continue to make you proud,” he murmured before he finally left to join the others. He had barely gotten far when the redheaded menaces that were the Weasley twins grabbed hold of him.

“You look as if you have seen a ghost!” They chortled as they practically dragged him towards their siblings.

“I did see ghosts of my past,” Salazar muttered testily. “And learned of a prophecy that puts the weight of the world upon my shoulders.” That stopped them short and they shared a look behind his back. Before anything else could be said though, they reached the others.

William was the first to step forward and he clasped Salazar’s shoulder. “Herrick. I want to properly introduce my wife to you.” The last few weeks Salazar had seen Fleur in passing, but had never been actually introduced to the woman. “Herrick, this is Fleur. Fleur, this is Herrick Evans. He is the one that helped me the greatest with the wards.”

The woman by William’s side gave Salazar a polite smile as she regarded him curiously. Something seemed to spark in her eyes then and she threw her arms around him in a hug. Salazar made a startled sound and awkwardly wrapped his arms around her in return. Was this a usual thing for her? The surprise on William’s face told him that it certainly was not usual. “I know you,” the woman whispered in his ear suddenly, just loud enough for him to hear and her voice heavily accented. “I will keep your secrets.” She pulled back and gave him a little wink. “You saved my sister after all,” she told him just low enough for only Salazar to hear. He tried not to stare at her helplessly, unaware of when he had done such a thing. It was certainly when he had been at Hogwarts, but not all of his memories had returned. Fleur smiled with something that seemed like understanding and gently patted his cheek. “You are family, yes?” She said loudly enough for everyone and it brought cackles from the twins. Salazar could only sigh.

Luckily, it was not too much long after that a clear bell rang over the space. The gathered families and students quieted before they turned to see Luna as she stood by the pergolas with a welcoming smile. “Come,” she invited them sweetly as she held out her hands. “The house elves have outdone themselves.” Salazar followed the others over to the tables and he sat himself down near the end of one. He found himself with a redheaded twin on either side a moment later, but only shook his head in fond exasperation. And wasn’t that a notion? Fond exasperation. It was certainly incredible that he was fond of them at all, what with his history. He had promised himself to never grow close to anyone anymore, yet here he was. He thought the memories of Harry Potter that bled through might have something of an influence.

Salazar pulled himself from his thoughts and waited for the others to all be seated before he gave Granger a nod. She gave him a nervous smile, but stood and held up her hands to gain attention. Once everyone was quiet and looked at her, she took a deep breath and smiled. Granger then closed her eyes and relaxed. “Thank you all for joining us here at the table, all that live and all that come before us. We give thanks to beings both high and low, for blessings we have received and are on their way. May this food we share be blessed and may it fortify our spirits. May it sweeten our moods and support us on our paths. As we wish, so shall it be.” The thanks and blessing was spoken solemnly as many bowed their heads to whisper their own thanks.

After a moment of silence as most reflected on the blessing, Granger then smiled invitingly and clapped her hands once, an action that earned her a ripple of laughs along the table. She laughed along with them and spread her hands again. “Please, dig in!”

With a chuckle, Salazar started to fill his plate as everyone around him also eagerly dug into the platters of food. The man made sure that he grabbed a bit of everything. There were large pork roasts seasoned with rosemary along with roasted potatoes and corn. There were soft rolls and seeded bread along side Bram brack, a dark Irish bread made with dried fruit. These rested alongside pumpkin bread and bowls of assorted nuts mixed with pumpkin seeds. As for something sweet, treats made with apples or pumpkin were laid out on platters.

“You did well, Herrick,” the twins murmured into his ears as George poured him a goblet of mulled cider. Salazar took it with a word of thanks but decided not to comment. The mirrored men on either side of him gave grins before they dug into their own food. “These are the brightest smiles we’ve seen in a while. So, you did good.” Salazar only nodded, his face composed but for the light pink tint on the tips of his ears. “Where is Einar, by the way? We have not seen him tonight.”

After he set his goblet down after a sip, Salazar picked up a fork. “He celebrates in a solitary manner. After all, his people are long lived.” The elf had lost many close friends since he had come to Midgard, so he preferred to be alone during this time. He had his own customs. Salazar could not blame him for his want to be alone as this time of year had always brought him melancholy, though he had never really known why until he had returned to this time and had his memories slowly returned to him. His parents, as Harry Potter, had died on this night after all. He shook off the thoughts though and let himself be drawn into the laughter that was around him. The rest of the night passed rather uneventfully before he helped to guide his exhausted students to their dormitory. It was in the early hours before dawn that he finally collapsed into bed as well.

Though he had very much enjoyed Samhain, even with the surprise visits of ghosts from his past, Salazar found himself glad that the night was over. He was able to throw himself into research over the next few weeks. There had been little to find of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, the man who would become Voldemort, but he was determined to find out everything they could get their hands on. What they knew so far was that he had been an exceptional student with top marks throughout his years in Slytherin. There had been some educational awards, along with a special service to the school award that Granger mentioned she had found in the school’s trophy room. That was a room he had spent some time in, curious about it as it had not existed in his time as a founder. However, he had felt odd, as if it was familiar. He had no concrete memories of it yet though. And was that not a strange thought?

In the Room of Requirement, Salazar had set up a base of sorts with the others in his little ragtag group. It had been Granger’s idea to set up a giant board to write down everything that they knew about Riddle. She, in particular, had managed to find records from an orphanage that detailed some of Riddle’s childhood. The man had been the product of a love potion which a near squib woman had used on a muggle man, though that information had not been contained in the orphanage documents but rather puzzle pieces that Granger had managed to piece together.

It seemed strange almost to find that the bright young man that had graced Hogwarts’ halls would go on to become a man so feared that people would not even dare to speak his name. Though the Taboo would have had something to do with that too, fear for the man kept them from saying his name even during the period the world had thought him dead. Such a man just did not seem to have feasibly come from half-blood wizard Tom Riddle. He supposed that was the point, but then Granger had had a stroke of genius.

Muggle Psychology. The mind was something that would never be fully understood, but the mundane community had come a surprisingly long way in coming to an understanding. In fact, the mundanes had come a long way in their understanding of the world without the use of magic at their disposal. Some of the things they had created to compensate for a lack of magic, without even the knowledge of the magical, was truly remarkable. With research based upon what little they knew about Riddle’s time at the orphanage and Hogwarts, along with more widely known facts of his behaviour during the wars, Granger had been able to come up with what she called his psychological profile.

Granger called it the Dark Tetrad Personality. It combined labels such as psychopathy, narcissism, and Machiavellianism. Her explanation for the psychopathy was that Riddle had no moral compass and was completely incapable of empathy. From accounts he had gotten from Malfoy and Fenrir, the Dark Lord’s only emotions seemed to be rare moments of either gleeful joy or burning rage. The only other emotion, if one could call it that, was that Riddle seemed to project a continuous disinterest until the bursts of his anger or maniac joy.

Their other research was revealed from orphanage records and accounts from the children who had once known him. These reports read that Riddle had displayed extreme anti-social and criminal tendencies from an early age where he would bully the other children, steal from them, use torture to punish and intimidate them. There was no doubt that Riddle was willing to commit murder without a thought for the victim’s age or innocence.

Riddle was also a master of deceit and manipulative charm. The evidence of that was the following he had been able to gather while still at school. The boy at Hogwarts had shown the capability to project the persona of a smart, hardworking, brave, and pleasant young man. Even if he did come from the House of Slytherin and had to deal with the prejudices this entailed. Granger had also noted that his penchant for grandiosity was another psychopathic trait that combined his impulsive nature, poor assessment of risk, and the air of fearlessness he projected.

Granger’s next point was Riddle’s narcissism, though Salazar had been at first rather unconvinced as he considered the state of the man’s appearance. But then, Salazar did remember the tale he had heard in Helheim that Riddle pretended to still speak parseltongue. The man had an unhealthy obsession with serpents, with the fact that he was descended of the Slytherin line and their parselmouth abilities. To appear snakelike must be a point of great pride for the madman. Granger did say that she thought it was not so much Riddle’s appearance that showed narcissism, but that he had a concern with presenting an impressive image. So, the man’s notable arrogance and sense of entitlement as the apparent Heir of Slytherin were also narcissistic tendencies.

The next of Granger’s points for her Dark Tetrad theory was Riddle’s apparent Machiavellianism. The witch explained that Machiavellianism was a personality trait in which a person can be so focused on their own interest they will manipulate, deceive, and exploit others to achieve their end goals. That went along with his ability to project a charming young man. Salazar understood that Riddle would have had to be exceptionally well at manipulation if he had gotten to the point he had done. The way he treated his followers, his sadism, the way he did not care for them at all, it was not hard to see why Granger had come to the conclusion of Machiavellianism.

So, knowing all this, Salazar at first had wondered how it would help them figure out Riddle’s Horcruxes. But then he had realized that even though the most logical thing would have been to make any old object into a Horcrux to protect it with anonymity, Riddle’s narcissism and psychopathic traits would not allow it. They knew he had liked to steal from the children at the orphanage. That meant that he liked to collect trophies. What better use for his trophies than to make them his Horcruxes? His narcissism and inflated sense of self worth would ensure that his trophies would be grand to go along with the image that he was trying to project. And what grander artifacts in the wizarding world than those of Hogwarts’ Founders? He would be arrogant enough to go for artifacts if he could get his hands on them.

Of course, that narrowed down the search, but it really did not make it any more than marginally easier. Salazar knew the other Founders, had been one himself for however short a time it was. But, after a thousand years, it was hard to say what had survived the centuries. Yet, it was a start. So, they had started a list. The memory of the Chamber that Fawkes had sparked reminded him of the diary. Knowing what he did of Horcruxes, he knew that was one they would not have to take care of any longer. He had wondered how he would bring up such a thing without the need to give away his original identity, but luckily Granger had been a participant for much of that fiasco when they had been twelve.

All they needed to figure out now was how many horcruxes that Riddle had come up with. Salazar theorized that it was likely seven altogether because of Riddle’s need for power. Seven was a powerful magical number after all. So far, they knew he had been one and that the diary had been one. Blaise had speculated that the man’s snake, Nagini, was also another one as she never seemed to leave his side. If that was true, then it meant that there were four more horcruxes that were unaccounted for. Salazar thought he might have to, unfortunately, speak with Dumbledore sooner rather than later about the topic. The man would have been a professor at the time that Riddle was a student, so he would have known him. It was possible he could offer some clues they would need to track down the horcruxes. He should also speak to Helena, or even the other ghosts of Hogwarts to see what they remembered of Riddle. Perhaps they could approach them before they attempted to approach the Headmaster. At any rate, they would need to make a timeline of Riddle’s life before he went public as Voldemort. It might lead them to horcruxes and their locations.

With a soft sigh, Salazar shook off his thoughts and stacked some rolls of parchment. It was then that there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” he called out absently while he glanced at a small wooden clock on his desk to check the time. A gift from Luna who had said something about time. Apparently it was her idea of a joke, though he hadn’t quite followed. The woman was a strange one, though he felt grudgingly fond of her.

“Professor?” Salazar quickly looked up to see one of his seventh years. “I am sorry to bother you, but there is a situation down in the commonroom,” the young man said worriedly. Salazar stood immediately, concerned that the wards in the commonroom had not alerted him. As he rounded his desk, he asked for details. The seventh year frowned and shook his head. “One of the fourth years was bragging about spells that his grandfather taught him. He got into an argument with one of the other students and started threatening to use some of these spells.” They walked briskly down the corridor as Colton Corridge explained worriedly. “They haven’t come to blows yet, sir, but I’m more worried about Orien Mulciber. I think he’s going through withdrawal, sir. Some of the spells he mentioned I recognize as the Arts, sir. And I recognize the symptoms he’s starting to show. I had an uncle succumb to addiction.”

Salazar slipped his wand into his hand just as the wards finally pinged to alert him to a situation in the commonroom. “Thank you for coming to me so quickly,” he said as he uttered the password to the hidden door quickly. He hurried down the steps into the Room as soon as the door was open wide enough and flicked his wand sharply. Two wands soared into his hand a moment later. “That is quite enough,” he said acidly. “Both of you will serve detention with me tomorrow during lunch.” He next addressed the rest of the gathered students. “And tomorrow everyone will join me for a lesson after dinner, just as normal. We will discuss what has happened here. For now, Mister Mulciber, you will come with me. Mister O’Neil, you may see me in the morning to collect your wand.” He turned sharply on his heel and stalked back to his office once he was sure that the Mulciber boy had followed as order.

As he made his way into his office, Salazar pointed to the chair in front of his desk and ordered the boy to take a seat. “I apologize for my brusque demeanor, mister Mulciber,” the wizard said as he went over to a cabinet and rummaged around in it. He then set a vial down in front of the boy a moment later and gave him a stern, “Drink.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against his desk. The boy meekly drank down the potion, though he grimaced at the taste.

“What was the potion for, uh, sir?” The boy asked in a hushed voice. He seemed to understand that he was in trouble at least by the way he fidgeted and kept his eyes lowered.

Salazar plucked the vial up and placed it in a basket to be cleaned. “I want you to understand that I am not angry with you, mister Mulciber,” he said first as he leaned back against desk again. “The potion is for the effects of Dark Arts addiction. The potion will cleanse your pathways.” The boy opened his mouth, but Salazar cut him off with a raised hand. “I know the signs to look for and I will not have you fight me on this, son. I am your Head of House and that means that you are my responsibility. As such, I am requiring you adhere to a seven day regimen so that your pathways will be cleansed enough to my standards,” he instructed sternly. His expression softened somewhat next and he breathed out softly. “Now then. I would like for you to explain to me why you are suffering the effects of addiction withdrawal, mister Mulciber.” The boy was lucky in some regards that his withdrawal had only now become very pronounced as it meant that it was not a heavy addiction.

At Salazar’s request for information though. the boy immediately clammed up and clenched his fists. “I don’t see how any of that is your business… sir,” he gritted the words out as he looked down at his lap furiously. Salazar decided not to take it personally.

Instead, Salazar sighed and crouched down in front of the boy. “Mulciber,” he said the surname inquisitively. “That family name… the Dark Lord had a servant by the name of Mulciber.” He stated it softly as he searched the boy’s expression even as he kept his eyes lowered. Orien flinched at the statement as his eyes darted towards the closed door. “You are safe in these halls, child. The Mulciber who served the Dark Lord… he would be your grandfather?” Salazar had studied the names of known Deatheaters from the first war and the names of the current ones they knew.

Orien gave a shaky nod and swallowed thickly. “He… grandfather was imprisoned after the first war. Father was able to escape Azkaban because he was too young, hadn’t taken the Mark. But when… he reappeared, he broke his Deatheaters out of Azkaban. Grandfather has been living with us. He forced my father to pledge to… him and said that he’ll have me marked when I turn fifteen this summer. He’s been… teaching me over the summer. I didn’t want to, sir, I swear!” His eyes were suddenly wide and he had paled to a hue that concerned Salazar. It was hard not to place his hands over Orien’s.

His story was not unheard of, the poor boy. Often the true victims of war were the children. They were forced to take sides in a war they did not understand, to take on the mantle of their parents or grandparents though they were far too young to even make their own choices. His Slytherins took the worst of it, with the ridicule at the hands of the other Houses because of stupid misconceptions and childish feuds. “I don’t even know why I’m babbling about those spells to the others. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about… I wouldn’t ever use those spells on someone! Sir, you gotta believe me!”

Salazar focused back on Orien’s pleading. He decided to take a risk and took the boy’s hands into his own. He squeezed the small hands reassuringly, pleased when Orien did not pull away from him. “Did you know? The symptoms of withdrawal include recklessness and arrogance,” he explained softly. “It affects the mind if proper precautions are not taken, especially if your body does not have the necessary pathways to bear the weight of sacrifice magic. Children often have not had the chance to properly form all of their pathways yet. Your grandfather obviously did not take the necessary precautions and so you paid the price for it. Thankfully, I can treat the symptoms if they are taken care of before the addiction goes too far.” He paused then and gave Orien a stern look. “You will come to me every morning for a new dose of the potion, okay? You are not in trouble for that. However, I do not want to hear again of you threatening the other students.” He would have loved to be able to teach his students the Dark Arts in a controlled environment so they did not experiment on their own, but that was something he could not risk at this time. “No practicing any of what your grandfather taught you while you are at Hogwarts. If you are forced to return home at any point, I will give you a course of potions that will prevent this from happening again. Alright?” It would be the only thing he could provide the boy with from a distance, though he would do what he could so the boy would not be forced to return home. Orien nodded in understanding at any rate. “Good. Now back off to your dormitory. I will return your wand to you in the morning when you come for your next potion.”

As soon as the boy had bolted off, Salazar went around to his seat and dropped into it with a sigh. He carefully locked the two boys’ wands in the top drawer of his desk before he looked over his desk without actually seeing it. Well, it seemed like he would need to give a lesson on the dangers of the Dark Arts. The wards were calibrated to alert the headmaster if there was use of the Arts while in the school. As it was, the Dark Arts were a tricky subject. While not inherently evil, they did have a slippery slope if the proper precautions were not taken and could just as easily be used for evil in the wrong hands. He did not want his students to do anything foolish.

So, the next night, Salazar ushered his students into the lecture hall. He closed the door behind him once they were all seated. Striding down the steps, Salazar looked over each of the students and silently counted to make sure they were all present. “It has come to my attention that I have neglected a very important lesson.” He stopped near the desk in the center. “Mister Fawley, tell us again what the Dark Arts are,” he commanded. The fourth year jumped before he quickly schooled himself.

“Sir. The Dark Arts require sacrifice. Either from the caster or the victim.” he stated confidently. They had gone over this before after all. “Though the word victim is a bit of a stretch, since not all Arts are used against a living being.”

Salazar gave a nod. “Very good. This is correct. Now, who can tell me why the Dark Arts are dangerous if they are not inherently evil?”

After a moment, fifth year Alfred Caldwell raised his hand. Salazar nodded to him. “Sacrifice is always required. Natural magic will fail if a wizard’s core depletes and the magic is returned to its source. Dark magic must be completed. If the required sacrifice is too much for the caster, the magic will consume them.”

With a grim smile, Salazar gave a nod. “Correct. Now, just a reminder to you all is that witches and wizards fall on either side of Neutral, though there are a number who fall in the middle. They are known as Grey wizards. For Neutral magic, as an example, let us take the Fidelius charm. It hides a warded area from anyone who does not know the Secret. It cannot be found through any means. The Secret Keeper must cast the spell from their own Core because they will hold the Secret. However, the magnitude of holding such a Secret would quickly drain even the most powerful, so the Secret Keeper draws in Wild magic to feed the spell. Most wards operate under a similar principle so are a branch under Neutral magic. So, a sacrifice to cast the spell, but it can be fed with Wild magic to sustain the enchantment.”

His expression became stern then. “Now, as mister Caldwell said, the Dark Arts require a sacrifice paid by the living and the toll must always be paid, but can any of you tell me why the Dark Arts are so dangerous outside of this?” No one raised their hands. Salazar nodded his head and then folded his hands behind his back. “Those who have a Dark affinity have the pathways to support the circulation of magic from their core, as that is the magic used in a sacrifice. Those with a Natural affinity, have the pathways to support the conduction of Wild magic from the earth around them. Those with a Neutral affinity are somewhere in between. Now, with the use of the Dark Arts, magic is circulated through the magical pathways in the body. It stays within the body rather than just being conducted through like with the Natural Arts. If overused, the circulated magic stagnates. It happens faster in those who do not have a Dark alignment, which includes children whose alignment has not settled yet. The stagnation confuses the body and creates a compulsion to use the Dark Arts more. It results in an addiction that will create a deterioration of the mind,” he warned gravely.

There was silence before one of the sixth years slowly raised their hand. Salazar nodded to her. “Sir? What are the precautions then?”

Salazar regarded her silently a moment before he breathed out a sigh. “One must not overuse the Dark Arts. Most of those who have affinities towards the Dark Arts have pathways that are better formed to circulate the magic longer before it stagnates. Most of them also fall more closely to Neutral than they do to any extreme of Dark. They can still easily use the Natural Arts even if the more powerful spells may become more difficult. Wild magic acts almost as if a purifier to the body. If taught properly, every wizard who practices the Dark Arts safely knows that there needs to be a balance between the use of Dark and Natural spellwork.”

He looked out over his students then. “One must learn the Arts little by little. You must know the spell, know yourself, and know the extent of the sacrifice that is owed. It is not an Art that can be taken lightly.” He smiled a bit then. “I will admit to you all that I wish I could teach you the basics. I find that it is good to have a solid foundation so that you at least understand the dangers that come from the practice of such an Art. I would rather teach you the basics and decide it is not something you wish to pursue, than have you fall into studies that are over your head.” He gave a pause then, his expression sobered. “I want to warn you all that the wards over Hogwarts have been adjusted. Any Dark Arts that are performed on the grounds of Hogwarts are alerted to the Headmaster. All I ask is that none of you do anything thoughtlessly.”

He could see a few of his students exchange worried looks and held back a smile. Good. He did not want them to get into trouble, so that was why he warned them. Salazar cleared his throat then and spread out his hands some. “Now, then. I want you all to pair up or gather into groups of threes. If you all remember, last week we went over the classifications of magic between Dark, Neutral, or Natural. I want to explore this further.” He removed his wand from its holster and then tapped the chalkboard behind him. Immediately, various studies of magic appeared on the board. “In your groups, I want you all to discuss what classifications you would give each branch of study. I will give you fifteen minutes, then we will discuss each one as a group.”

Once the groups had been formed, Salazar drew the time in the air and then tapped it so the glowing numbers started to count down. “Please begin.”

((Page Break))

“This is useless!”

Salazar paused as he heard the snarl. It was past curfew and he had been assigned a patrol. It had taken him up to the seventh floor and he was now on his way back down to head back to his office. However, he had not expected the sudden broken silence in the quiet corridor. He thought he recognized the voice and he had just passed the cracked open door of the Room of Requirement. Curious, Salazar backtracked and pulled the door further open. The Room had taken on a very resolute appearance, all imposing stone and long shadows. He had to wonder how much of it was a reflection of the occupant’s state of mind. The walls too were lined with motionless practice dummies like silent guards. In the center of it all was Blaise, his wand clutched tightly in his hand.

“Blaise?” Salazar ventured quietly, not even sure if he should interrupt the new werewolf.

“I can feel the magic,” Blaise said with a scowl as he lifted his hands palm up. “I can feel it just under my skin. Lupin has been particularly useless, saying it will come easier if I would just take the Wolfsbane poison. Greyback says it just takes practice. Not helpful. He’s been a wolf all his life. And at this rate, I would be useless in the event of an attack.”

Salazar was silent for a moment before he came to a decision. At least Blaise had not turned him away. Maybe he could help in return for how the other had opened up to him. So, he closed the door behind him and started to unbutton his robes. He shrugged the robes off to reveal his usual loose tunic and fitted trousers beneath. Once he had hung his robes on a hook that had appeared, Salazar approached Blaise. The man watched him curiously, but did not say anything. “Attack me physically. Try to hit me,” Salazar invited him.

This brought a reaction from Blaise, who furrowed his brow and appeared unsure. “My strength…” he stated slowly, but stopped with a shake of Salazar’s head. Blaise sighed but raised hands. “Alright, I guess. I’ll play along,” he said before he threw a punch. It was sloppy, but it served the purpose that Salazar set for it. Moments later, he had slipped beneath Blaise’s guard as he grabbed him by the arm and had flipped him to the floor. He kept the man pinned to the ground in a choke hold before he broke away cleanly and slipped away easily. “H..How…” Blaise coughed out as he slowly picked himself up and sat up. Salazar stood a few steps away and didn’t look winded at all.

With an amused chuckle then, Salazar stepped back in and reached out a hand to help the other man to his feet. They were of similar height, but Salazar was just a touch shorter and Blaise was a bit stockier. A lot of that muscle was new and from his recent transformation, but Blaise’s shoulders were wider even though much of the rest of his build was leaner. It was a change from the previous willowy stature of the dark skinned wizard.

“I am no master of the art, but it is known as Glima,” Salazar explained. “I learned it from both Einar and in the Northern community of Fyrkat.” He regarded Blaise for a moment. “I will teach you. I have a firm grasp of the moves, but a partner would help my muscles better commit them to memory and give me better speed. Glima translates to ‘flash’ for a reason.” He might even be able to put on more muscle. He would never be as bulky as Godric was, but it would always be a far better cry than the scrawny boy he had once been. Already he was much taller than he had once been at the very least. Now, he wanted to better build his strength. A martial art against a werewolf? Perfect way to build strength and speed. He just had to get Blaise to agree.

Luckily, Blaise did not take long to take it over. He gave a firm now, his brow furrowed. “Yes, alright. If I cannot make use of my magic, I might as well have other tricks up my sleeve.” He seemed determined, but there was a resigned look that twisted his features.

Salazar raised an eyebrow. “Do not give up on your magic,” he said with a stern frown. “Even though it has been weeks, you are still adapting to the changes. It will come to you in time, especially if you stop forcing it. I would recommend you try meditating if you do not already.”

“Yes, sir,” Blaise said with a little quirk of his lips. Salazar only rolled his eyes in response.

As he turned then, Salazar gathered up his robes and pulled them back on. “If you learn quickly, then I might show you another aspect of Glima that includes weaponry,” he said lightly as he buttoned up his robes. He thought it might interest Blaise.

He was right. Blaise’s eyes seemed to light up and he took off after Salazar as the wizard left the Room. “Weaponry?” He echoed the words, which made Salazar smile.

As they strode down the corridor at a sedate pace, Salazar glanced over to Blaise with a smirk. “Weapons, yes. We would have to find a weapon that suited you, of course. I first learned how to fight outside of Glima with a knife that I picked up for self-defence. I will still keep one on me at all times, but I know my way around a few other weapons now. Perhaps not a master, but I could lay a good foundation for you at the very least.” He had the disadvantage that he had not learned from childhood, though he had many years ahead of him to continue to learn. Especially with Einar’s help, if he could convince him. “We shall meet on the grounds in the early mornings just after sun up and we can start tomorrow, if you like.” When Blaise acquiesced, Salazar gave  a little nod. “Perfect. I will see you then. For now, I have some essays I need to grade for my students as I have just finished my patrol. If you will excuse me.” Blaise seemed a little put out, but he said good bye to Salazar and they parted ways.

Once he made it back down to his office, Salazar pulled his robe back off and hung it over the back of his chair. He glanced at his robes then and wondered suddenly if he could just forgo it altogether. He always seemed to take them off with whatever chance he had anyways. With a shake of his head, Salazar summoned a house elf for some tea as he settled behind the desk. As he pulled the first essay forward then, he uncapped his red ink pot and picked up a quill. At least the language lessons the students did at their own pace had helped with their grammar and spelling.

It was around an hour later when there was a knock on the door. A little startled at the sudden knock, Salazar glanced at the clock as he settled down his quill. It was near midnight. “Come in,” he called out as he wondered who it could be.

Surprisingly, it was Granger that popped her head in a moment later. She gave him a weak smile. “Hey, Herrick. Professor Dumbeldore is calling an emergency Order meeting with all of the staff invited. He asked me to fetch you.”

Surprised by the summons, and concerned with the fact that the staff too had been requested, Salazar nodded. “Of course. Just give me a moment,” Salazar said, already in the process to dry the ink on the paper that he had marked. He put his supplies away quickly and, as he stood, decided to just forgo his robes as he left after Granger. Salazar locked his office with a wave of his wand and slipped it back into its holster as he made his way quickly after Granger. At the meeting room in the Headmaster’s office, the space with packed with Order members and the school staff. Salazar found an empty seat between Frederick and Blaise that one of them had likely saved for him. Only the newly turned wolf and the Weasley sons greeted him as he took his seat, though he suspected Ronald’s greeting was a result of the kick that Granger had graced him with beneath the table. The twins didn’t even try to contain their snickering.

Malfoy suddenly breezed into the room as well and gingerly took a seat next to Blaise. He greeted them softly, as his eyes flickered over to Salazar. The emerald eyed wizard responded with a polite nod, but it was then that the Headmaster appeared and took his seat at the head of the table. With his appearance, the room quieted down. Salazar turned his gaze on the old man, concerned by the grave expression that lined his face as he settled in his chair.

“I would like first to thank you all for coming on such short notice, and so late at night,” the headmaster began as he looked over the assembled group. “As you may all suspect, it is unfortunate that it is bad news that I have to relay.” The Headmaster steepled his fingers as he leaned forward in his chair, his aged face lined still with his grim countenance. “After weeks of silence, it seems that Riddle is finally making his move within the Ministry. Minister Fudge has gone missing, according to a contact, though the public story is that he stepped down and retired to somewhere warmer. In his place, the Wizengamot is said to have had an emergency election of a man named Digby Malchilde.” There were murmurs throughout the room, though none dared to interrupt the old wizard. “He was sworn into his office a week prior.”

The murmurs only grew louder as Salazar shared a glance with Blaise next to him. Riddle had started to move quickly now. That, or several of his plans had finally come to fruition. This was the first anyone had heard of this as it had not even been mentioned in the Prophet, though it made Salazar fully sure that the Dark Lord controlled the paper. It was something he had long suspected, but now he could say he was positive. “They are trying to keep the people calm,” Salazar observed. His words silenced the others. “The attack on the Ministry was barely a footnote in the newspaper, the attack itself swift. I doubt that there are many who know the true extent of what happened and most are here in Hogwarts’ walls. For all the public knows, the Dark Lord attacked and was fought back even with the casualties. It was downplayed.” Salazar was quiet for a moment before realization bloomed over his face. “Of course, they are keeping the Dark Lord’s association with the Ministry away from public view. He continues his reign of terror through raids, which covers his hunt for Tyrfing, while he silently digs his fingers into the public though the guise of the Ministry. He will have total control before any realize a thing.” Riddle might be a madman, but he was a clever one. And that made him all the more dangerous, even for all of his pride. “Anything the Ministry does, they can pass as a response to the Dark Lord’s attack rather than it being the machinations of the man behind the scenes.”

The Headmaster nodded grimly. “I believe you are correct, Professor Evans. As a case in point, the Wizangamot has already passed two laws of which will be announced to the public come morning. The first of the two laws is that Minister Malchilde will be assuming martial law in the wake of the attack on the Ministry and to combat the Deatheaters at large,” the man revealed. He took a deep breath then, as if he was steeling himself for what he would say next. “The Wizengamot is also instating a Registration Act. Every magical must register themselves under this new Act in the name of modernization. I believe it is meant to appeal to the muggleborns, based off the identifications that can be found in the muggle world. However, this Registration will include their blood status, along with any proof they can provide if they wish to register as a pureblood. Any refusing to register, or are proved to have falsified a claim, may be subject to prosecution.” The man sighed, looking every bit of his long years. “My contact believes magical affinity may be recorded as well.”

Granger looked like she had angry tears in her eyes, her fists clenched in her lap. “It’s like the Jewish Holocaust during WWII,” she ground out. “They’ll gather a bloody list of every witch and wizard, then the next thing we know they will feed us some bullshit reason why muggleborns are inferior. They’ll have that list to track down every unfortunate magical with muggle ancestry and… and…” She trailed off, choked up with anger.

Salazar bowed his head. “What of the school, Headmaster? Are they attempting to impose any changes?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “Not as far as we are aware yet. The school is protected by wards and they know I am Headmaster. They may also be holding back so they do not overwhelm the public with legislation changes. However, it is my suspicion that they may try to enforce the Registration Act on those who abide in these walls. When we inevitably decline, they may declare all of us criminals and we will not be able to step outside the wards without the risk of heavy prosecution brought upon us.”

That would not bode well. “The wards will hold, but we would be trapped until the Dark Lord is defeated.”

“And what of the muggleborns and any who have muggle blood in them? How are we supposed to protect them? We all know that Riddle controls the Ministry and he isn’t going to let things stand for long. The Registry seems tame enough, but as Granger said, they’ll come up with a reason to start a crusade against muggleborns. What are we supposed to do then? We can’t house everyone in wizarding Britain,” one of the wizards that Salazar did not know by name spoke up.

Granger seemed to perk up though. “Oh, but what if we can? The castle itself isn’t big enough to house everyone, and it probably wouldn’t be good to have so many people invading what is supposed to be a school anyhow. But the grounds… the grounds are very large, big enough to fit a small village. And what if we use wizard tents to make muggle like flats? They could fit, say, ten families each if we stretch the wizarding space enough. Ten tents, that is one hundred families right there!”

“And what about supplies? It is all well and good to offer sanctuary, but then how would we get enough supplies to host such a large number? And mages are going to want to do their shopping. As soon as they step foot out of the wards, they will be at risk.” That was Snape’s rather dry voice. It sounded almost condescending to Salazar.

He could not help but speak up in response as he leaned forward against the table. “Do you have a better idea, Professor?” He gave Granger a little smile, though he wondered if this was how Snape treated her as his assistant in class. He certainly kept that condescending tone against the students in the dueling class that Salazar still helped out at occasionally. “The idea does have merit, but magic can only stretch so far. The more persons gathered in a singular space, the more it puts pressure upon the wards. Housing may not be a problem with the use of wizarding space as you suggest, but the Professor does make a point. There are many logistical problems that would need to be taken into account before we can even try to offer sanctuary to such a large number of people as extensive as the muggleborn population of wizarding Britain.”

“But we cannot sit around and do nothing!” The outburst showed just how frustrated the young woman had become. “Riddle is no closer to being defeated and we cannot just sit back as he murders everyone even minorly associated with muggles!”

A woman with bright pink hair leaned forward then, as a grim smile twisted her lips. “We all feel the same, ‘Mione. And what we do is what we’ve been doing. We keep fighting. There will be casualties, yeah? Being with the Aurors taught me there is only so much you can do sometimes. But that doesn’t mean you give up and stop fighting. People will die. But we’ll make sure their deaths won’t be for nothing. It’s a harsh lesson to learn, a blunt one.”

Harsh, yes, but true. Salazar cleared his throat. “If I may offer an alternative for now, we could look over Hogsmeade’s wards. While not as extensive as the ones around Hogwarts, the village has been around since the time of the Founders. It is bound to have some powerful wards over it. At the very least we can ensure enough time for evacuation to the school grounds and their more powerful wards should an attack occur.”

“I do admire your dedication, miss Granger,” the Headmaster suddenly spoke. “But Professor Evans is correct in that the wards can only stretch so far. Hogwarts, too, can only stretch her resources so far.” Granger slumped back in her seat, defeated. “However, the thought that we should look over Hogsmeade’s wards is not a bad one. If tampering was done to Hogwarts’ wards, then it is not a stretch to think that Hogsmeade’s might have been altered as well. William, if you would be so kind. Though I should think that Professor Evans has enough on his plate for now, yes?”

Salazar wanted to protest being left out of the project, but he did know his limits. So, he nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, of course, Headmaster.” He glanced over to William then and inclined his head. “Though I am willing to help with any questions that you might have, if my expertise is needed.” There were no parselrunes in the Hogsmeade wards, but that did not mean that was all he knew for wards. Still, he knew that William was a talented cursebreaker and wardsmith. He’d likely be just fine.

The headmaster gave a small smile. “Excellent.” His expression sobered then and he turned his attention to the Hogwarts’ professors. “If parents decide that they want to register their children with the Act, there is little that we can do. However, I wanted everyone here to be aware of the Act so that you are not blindsided. The children may come to you with concerns and I wanted you to be prepared. Though it is late, I wanted to thank you again for these moments of your time.” He spread his hands a little. “I would like a word longer with the Order, but the rest of you are welcome to leave.”

Salazar was not the first to stand. He was curious what else the headmaster wanted his Order for, but he was not a member. He did not want to be a member. Good thing too since it was late and he would rather head to his bed. So, as he stepped outside the door he gave a tired sigh and decided that the rest of his marking could be left for later. After all, as a professor, he did not have a deadline to return essays to his students. It was not something he did often, but he could push it off a few days in this case. He much required some sleep instead. Especially if he would be up early to start Blaise’s Glima lessons. So, he made his way quickly to his chambers, not in the mood for conversation. Hogwarts was more than happy to provide him a quick route and a way to slip away without being caught by anyone. Salazar was able to slip into bed in record time. There, he dropped into dreams of mazes and stealing golden eggs from dragons.

When morning came, Salazar woke to the ghosts of screams and sickly green. He knew only one spell that colour and it left him queasy as he slipped into comfortable clothing. But luckily the castle was soothingly quiet as he made the trek outside, so he was able to push his confusing dreams aside for the moment. Once he arrived outside, Blaise joined him on the steps just a few minutes later. He was surprised to find that Malfoy had tagged along, though the blonde did not appear to be too happy to be there. He was especially unhappy when Salazar gave them a greeting and then nodded his head towards the lake. “A run and then some stretches are a good way to loosen up. Follow me.”

It was Blaise’s new stamina that got him around their lap on the shores of the lake, which Salazar had estimated to be around roughly five kilometers in the modern measurements. Malfoy lagged behind and grumbled most of the way before he panted too hard to form words. But Salazar kept him in view and he had to say he was impressed by how stubborn the blonde was to finish the run with them. And it was a damn long run. But Salazar found that he could not stop the grin that curled his lips as he led Blaise and Malfoy through some stretches. It had felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The run had been a good idea.

Once Salazar had deemed their muscles loosened enough, he demonstrated a few simple moves for the two younger men. He set them into doing the sets over and over again for nearly an hour while he alternated facing against each of them. He then set the two against each other. Malfoy was quicker, but Blaise was able to figure out how to use his strength to his advantage. They were good opponents for each other, but Salazar figured he would need to convince Einar to join them in the future so he had an opponent to go up against as well. Some more stretches, which he had admittedly stumbled upon from an overheard conversation between quidditch players, would keep them from becoming stiff and they all parted ways to get showers before breakfast.

Breakfast was already well underway when Salazar took his spot at the head table, so he poured himself some coffee and then filled his bowl with porridge. It was when he was halfway through his meal when the owl post came through. A moment he had anticipated, but yet dreaded in the same moment. He watched as tens of owls soared into Great Hall to find the recipients of the mail they carried. One of the owls broke away from the other to perch in front of him and ruffle its feathers. Salazar paid the couple of knuts it wanted as he placed them into the pouch tied to its leg. He then picked up the paper from where the owl had dropped it and unrolled it as the owl flew off.

Before he could read any of the articles though, a large raven suddenly landed before him. He looked at it curiously and took the scroll it offered. English wizards were not known to use ravens as they preferred owls. However, the Northern community did use the black feathered birds so perhaps it was from Eirik? He tucked the scroll into his pocket for later. “Thank you.” The bird stole a piece of bacon from a nearby platter before it hopped onto his shoulder. Clearly, the creature was there to wait for a reply.

With a shake of his head, Salazar ignored the curious looks he received for the raven and smoothed out the newspaper. The front page was the anticipated announcement of Minister Malchilde’s new position. The wizard’s photo showed a man of considerable girth that appeared to be balding with a closely trimmed beard and whiskers. Halfmoon spectacles perched on a rather large hooked nose. From appearance alone, Malchilde looked rather harmless as he gave the camera a smile and placed a top hat upon his head. The photo looped from there.

Salazar skimmed through the article then, though there was not much more to learn in it. It spoke of Fudge’s supposed retirement and how Malchilde had been voted in at an emergency Wizengamot gathering. Malchilde had worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, though he had not been an auror. He had been a solicitor associated with the Ministerial Wizarding Register Department for a time, though he had worked his way towards solicitor in Wizengamot matters. And now he was the Minister of Magic.

In the article, it also made mention that Minister Malchilde would assume martial law in response to the surge of attacks by the Dark Lord. They claimed it would increase the MInistry’s response time, to more quickly pass necessary laws for wartime. Salazar frowned at the line before he flipped to the next page in the paper. Tucked inside the pages and its sepia hues, was a full colour pamphlet that read in cheery letters ‘The Registration Act.’ It put Salazar off his food, but he forced himself to read the pamplet anyways.

He was glad he did, for all that it made him want to rage and fight. The pamphlet detailed that each mage of Hogswarts age and older would be issued an identification card once they were registered through the Ministry. The cards would be mandatory and necessary to enter Ministry sanctioned areas, places such as the Ministry itself, St. Mungos, or even Diagon Ally. They could not force it on Gringotts because of the treaty with the Goblin Nation, but Salazar had the feeling it would only be a matter of time before wizards would need the cards to purchase items at stores. It was an extremely unpleasant surprise.

“Headmaster,” he said as he lifted his head. The old man looked at him in askance, so Salazar held out the pamphlet. Dumbledore gave a grim nod, an open newspaper spread out in front of him. The Headmaster stood then as he excused himself. Salazar stood as well with the knowledge he had classes he needed to prepare for shortly and he needed to get his temper under control. He was hardly hungry anymore anyways. He almost wished he had enough time to go down to visit Grani at the paddock. He had visited the horse when he could and had even used the quiet of the horse’s paddock to work on research or grading. Perhaps he would try to visit the horse during lunch.

Once in his classroom, preparation took no time at all so Salazar settled behind his desk to open the letter that the raven had delivered. The raven itself had hopped up to sit on the back of his chair as it ruffled its feathers. After he had unfolded the letter, Salazar glanced towards the signature and was surprised to see that the letter was from Hilde, Eirik’s daughter. It was written in Latin letters, but the language was Old Norse.

“Herrick,

You are probably surprised to see my letter. I enjoyed your visit and wanted to get to know you more. At the advice of my mother, if you would believe it. And it is not just because you told the best story! I would not say that it is boring here, but your arrival was a wonderful change from the norm. And it, well, made me take a harder look at what was happening outside the borders of our little community. In all truth, it scares me. My parents have never shielded me. I do not fear death. Rather, I fear living if England’s evil wizard sets his eyes outward. I have already heard of his visits and what he left in his wake. I fear it. But are there not great verses about fear? My mother always said that we should not let our fear consume us, but let it become our strength. So, I am taking my fear and making use of it. If you have need of it, Herrick, I shall raise a war party of the likes we have not known in a long time and I will bring it to your aid. All you need is tell me.

Take care, Herrick.

Hilde Eiriksdottir”

“So, this is where you are! I have been looking for you everywhere this morning!” Salazar startled when the door pushed open and Granger appeared. She looked a bit harried, her flyaway hair a mess. Salazar wondered if she had even gotten any sleep the night before after the late meeting.

While he settled down the letter, Salazar raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Do you not have a class of your own that starts in…” He paused to look at his clock. “Well, in fifteen minutes.”

Granger waved him off and set a stack of parchment down on the desk. “I just wanted to drop this off for you to look over. I was doing a bit of thinking about what Murkwood could be. Einar gave me a bit of inspiration. Did you know that the Forbidden Forest used to be known as the Black Forest? Or, uh, Coille Dhubh, in Scottish Gaelic. Einar said that it also used to be known as Mirkwood once upon a time, though he doubts that it could be the location for the sword. It got me thinking about the words themselves.” She looked excited. “You see Murkwood is actually the anglicized version of ah, Myrkviðr.”

Salazar sat up straighter. He knew that word. He suddenly wondered if Angantyr was purposefully being misleading, how he even knew the anglicized version. “It means dark wood or dark forest.” He had heard it used for a number of forests as it was more of description than a name for any one forest. He was not sure how he had missed the connection. It made so much sense now that Granger said it. But then, he had focused more on Riddle recently than he had on Tyrfing even though it always seemed to be in the back of his mind.

Granger nodded quickly, unaware of Salazar’s thoughts. “Exactly. So, I have come up with the possibility of six places. It could be the Ore Mountains, though that is closer to Germany so I have my doubts it’s the real location. The second location in the Maeotian marshes, which is said to have separated the Goths from the Huns as written in the Hervarar saga. The third location is a forest I found mentioned that separated the Huns from the Burgundians. There is a forest too by the name of Kolmarden in Sweden that is mentioned in some legends.”

She took a deep breath as spread out her papers on Salazar’s desk. “Ah, there is also a remnant of a forest that is now known as Lunsen that is located south of Uppsala, also in Sweden. The last location… well, it’s more just vague mentions in sagas. I did find mention of it as a place being between Asgard and Muspelheim, but we can probably write off that one. I doubt our dead king made it to what is probably a parallel plane.” Granger rambled quickly now. “Now, I did a bit more research on Angantyr Heidreksson. What I could find that is. He was the king of what was known as Reidgotalandi. The land of the Goths. An Angantyr was mentioned in the Hervarar saga, though I’m not sure if they’re the same. With all that being said, I think our best bet though is the Maeotian marshes!”

Salazar opened his mouth to say something, but she bowled right over him. “Now, the Maeotian marshes is a rather antiquated name for the swamp at the mouth of the Tanais river, or Don river. The marshes fed into the Sea of Azov which is above the Black Sea. The marshes are in modern day Russia. It’s the very edges of where the king reigned, but it's a place to start!” She didn’t even look winded. “I thought maybe it would be in Sweden or something because in Uppsala in the first mentions of Tyrfing, but I never even thought about how far it might travel in the generations where it pops up through legends!”

Colour him impressed. And he was certain now she did not get a bit of sleep the night before, so Salazar stood up. “Granger. This is amazing work. We will look at it in more detail later, but for now we both have classes we need to see to.” At least Granger was an assistant professor and had a little more leeway. He pulled out a vial from his cupboard. “Here. Take some Pepperup,” he instructed sternly as he held it out to her. “And, from what I understand, you have an empty block before lunch. Take a nap and then meet me down here. We can meet in my office and we can go over your research together over the midday meal.”

Granger blinked at the vial before she took it after a moment. She downed the potion with a grimace and a huff as steam poured out of her ears. At least she looked more energized and not so manic any longer. The younger woman then gathered up her papers, a light blush on her cheeks. “Yes, of course. Sorry about this, Herrick. I will see you at lunch!” She hurried to the door before she glanced over her shoulder. “And, really, do call me Hermione! I think we’re friends enough for that aren’t we?” She left before he could respond.

Salazar dropped the vial with a shake of his head into a basket just as the door opened and Orien entered. The man looked over before he grabbed another vial. He held it out to the boy wordlessly. Once the boy had taken the dose, Salazar gave a nod of his head. “Good. Head off to class now then,” he said gently as he set the vial down. Blaise entered the classroom just as Orien left. He apologized for his tardiness, but Salazar waved him off. “It is fine. I have already set up for the first class. We are just going to discuss the Forgetfulness potion today first, so I would like you to get started on grading their essays once they turn them in.” Blaise had agreed to be his assistant. While no master, Blaise was learned enough in the Art to be a proper help in the classroom. It eased the burden on Salazar’s shoulders at any rate.

They only had a couple of minutes before the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors entered, their conversation halted as the first of the students arrived. Salazar greeted each of them as they placed their finished homework on Salazar’s desk and then took their assigned seats. Blaise immediately set to grading them as Salazar waited for the students to settle. Once he had taken roll, he gave them a polite smile. “Very good. Now then, let us get started.”

As he had mentioned to Blaise, they would work on the forgetfulness potion today. Since it was the next potion in their schedule, they would go step by step through the direction today as a discussion so there wouldn’t be any actual brewing. Salazar wanted his students to understand the reason why each step was why it was, why each ingredient was needed. It tended to cut down on accidents and there were fewer failures. He found it helped his students learn better.

So, he had them pull out their books and directed them to the page that contained the recipe. Once they were prepared, Salazar leaned back against his desk. He was careful not to disturb Blaise as he looked over the young students. “Now then. The Forgetfulness potion is a fairly simple potion. Can anyone tell me what it is used for?” Salazar asked. He nodded to one of the Gryffindors as she raised her hand. “Yes, miss Laney?”

The red haired girl lowered her hand with a bright grin. “Just as the name says, it makes the drinker lose their memory! I think it depends on how much is drunk, right?”

Salazar gave a nod and a soft chuckle. “Yes, very good. Five points to Gryffindor.” He motioned towards the board then. “As you can see here, and in your books, there are just four ingredients. Water from the river Lethe, Valerian sprigs, mistletoe berries, and the standard ingredient. The potion calls for first two drops of Lethe water. Can anyone tell me about the river Lethe and why we would use its water in our potion?” No one raised their hands, so Salazar gave a small nod. “In Greek myth, Lethe was one of the five rivers of Hades. Souls would drink from the water before being reincarnated so they would forget their past lives. The forgetfulness property of the water is thus useful for this potion.”

One of the boys raised his hand and Salazar nodded to him. “Sir? So why not just drink the water straight? Why the potion?”

“Ah, good question,” Salazar praised. “Five points to Slytherin. Lethe is a river for the dead. A full dose of Lethe water, even a small sip, would be fatal to humans,” Salazar explained. “Which is why the next ingredient is Valerian sprigs. Valerian was once known as All Heal in ages past. It was recognized for its sedative and antispasmodic properties, and so was used as a sleep and nerve remedy. In the Forgetfulness potion, it tempers the power of the Lethe water.”

Salazar paused then to let the students write their notes. He then continued on to the next ingredient. “Next up are Mistletoe berries. Can anyone tell me their magical properties?” He nodded to a small boy in the back. “Go ahead, Mister Arbourwight.”

The boy quickly lowered his hand and glanced down at his book before he tilted his head up proudly. “The magical properties include magical empowerment, love, fertility, vigour, healing, protection, and connection.”

Salazar nodded and awarded Slytherin another five points. “Very good. When paired with Valerian, what properties of the berry are amplified? Miss Leon?”

The Gryffindor girl bit her lip before she brightened. “Healing and protection, sir! Both the Valerian sprigs and the Mistletoe berries are necessary to counteract the potent properties of the Lethe water.” Salazar agreed with a smile and gave Gryffindor five points as well.

“Now, we have gone over the standard ingredient multiple times, so we should all know that this ingredient is a standardized measure of mixed herbs that is used in an assortment of potions, yes?” He chuckled as a few scribbled down his words, but he was not too worried. He knew that they all knew what the ingredient was.

Before they could go onto the brewing steps, the door to the classroom suddenly opened and Luna poked her head inside. “Herrick? Can I have a moment?” She asked with a smile. Her eyes did not have her usual twinkle, so Salazar excused himself after he told the students to read the chapter in their books. Blaise would keep an eye on them. Once he shut the door behind himself, Salazar turned to Luna. She fiddled with one of her radish earrings as she frowned and then told him, “Bill Weasley wanted you to come to the rune room as soon as you can. He says it's important.”

Salazar hated that he once more handed off his teaching to someone else, but whatever it was must be important if William was not going to wait until that evening. So, he gave Luna a nod. “I will head that way in a moment,” he promised as he slipped back into the classroom. He went over to Blaise first and leaned down a bit to speak softly, though he knew the man’s sensitive ears would pick up his words easily. “William needs to see me urgently for something. Their homework is written on the opposite side of the board, as per usual. If you could finish the discussion of the Forgetfulness potion, the notes for the next classes are in the top drawer. I am not sure what is going on, so I do not know when I will return.” Blaise gave him a nod, his expression serious.

After a murmured thanks, Salazar turned to his students and held out his hands. “I want to apologize for the suddenness, but something has happened that needs my attention,” he told them. “It is nothing to worry about, but Mister Zabini will be taking over your lesson. Remember to be respectful and I shall see you for your next class.” He gave Blaise a little nod then before he made his way out the door. As he exited, the raven from before flew over to him with a soft cry and landed on his shoulder. Luna offered to take the creature to his office for him, so Salazar allowed her to take the creature.

When he entered the room beneath the Great Hall, William stood in front of a projection of the rune matrix that powered the castle wards. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at them. Salazar approached quickly as his eyes already scanned the strands of runework. “Is there something wrong with them?” Salazar asked by way of greeting.

“I’m not sure,” was the response. There was a pause before William sighed loudly and ran a hand over his face. “Just a half hour ago, Riddle appeared at the barrier near the Forbidden Forest. They pinged his presence and he was not able to breach them because of our efforts, but Professor Dumbledore wanted me to go over them just to be sure. Riddle has some pretty black magic as his disposal and we can’t take any chances.” He rubbed at his face again with a soft groan. “Sorry about pulling you from your class, but you’re the only other one who knows the wards well enough. I wanted a second pair of eyes to make sure that I wasn’t going to miss anything.”

Salazar slid his wand out of his holster and pushed up the sleeves of his robe. “This is the first I have heard of this,” the wizard said grimly as he brought up the first line of code as he spared a glance at William. “Riddle was alone?”

The Weasley had his own wand out and gave a nod without turning his attention to Salazar. “Yeah. Dumbledore did not want to spark panic, I guess. And Riddle was only apparently at the ward barrier for a few short minutes. It seemed strange for him to be there in person and for him not to stay long, let alone be there by himself. Though I suppose he wouldn’t want to stay after realizing that he wouldn’t be able to get in. Still, it doesn’t mean that he couldn’t have done something.”

If one considered the man had used some pretty black magic to get through Helheim, Salazar felt their caution was entirely justified. So, he sent a note off to Granger to cancel their lunch meeting. Salazar settled in then to carefully go over each line of the matrix.

It took them until lunchtime to finish as they had gone over everything twice just to make sure that they had not missed anything. Nothing seemed to have changed, nothing was missing and nothing was added. It seemed they had been very lucky in that regard, to survive the first real test of the wards. But now it meant that Riddle knew that they had strengthened them. How the man would respond was anyone’s guess.

William thanked him for the help and Salazar hurried off to eat something before his class of fifth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They would brew the Invigoration Draught today as they had already discussed it the Friday before. He needed to get the classroom prepared. Luckily, Blaise was there and helped him to set up so Salazar had some time to relax. Blaise also took the time to tell him how the previous classes had gone while they worked to set the required ingredients for the potion at each station. Once they had finished, Salazar thanked the younger man and wandered over to a cabinet to grab a dose of Pepperup potion. Blaise pretended to not see. Salazar ignored him. He would need the potion to make it through the rest of the day.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

WIlliam thanked him for the help and Salazar hurried off to eat something before his class of fifth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They would brew the Invigoration Draught today as they had already discussed it the Friday before. He needed to get the classroom prepared. Luckily, Blaise was there and helped him to set up so Salazar had some time to relax. Blaise also took the time to tell him how the previous classes had gone while they worked to set the required ingredients for the potion at each station. Once they had finished, Salazar thanked the younger man and wandered over to a cabinet to grab a dose of Pepperup potion. Blaise pretended to not see. Salazar ignored him. He would need the potion to make it through the rest of the day.

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning, Salazar was awake before the sun. He made his offerings, then took a seat at his desk to pen a letter to Hilde before he went to meet Blaise and Malfoy down on the grounds. The raven appeared on the back of his chair with a flutter of wings as Salazar pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and his inkwell. As he dipped the quill into the ink, he thought over his words before he started to write.

“Your mother is a wise woman, Hilde Eiriksdottir. It is when we succumb to our fear that they rob us of any honour, that warriors make mistakes that cost them the lives of both themselves and their comrades. The moment we run and hide is the moment we have lost. I will keep her advice as my own and thank you for sharing it. On another note, I am glad that you had enjoyed my visit and my story. The bright face of a child always brightens even the darkest of hours. I fight to protect ones like you so that you shall not have to do so yourself. I do appreciate your offer of aide though and I shall keep it in mind. To fight alongside shield brothers and sisters once more would strengthen my hope for a resolution to this war. But tell me of Winternights. Here we only celebrated for a single night as we combined it with the Celtic observation of Samhain. It was a good feast, but I miss the revelry of Vetrnaetr.

Take care and may the blessings of the gods be upon you, Hilde Eiriksdottir.

Herrick”

Once he had signed the letter, Salazar rolled it with some ribbon. A quick spell protected it for the journey and he sealed it with a bit of green wax from a candle he lit with a thought. He pressed his signet ring into it, the wax impressed with an image of a snake. He allowed it to dry and then tied it securely to the raven’s foot. He held out his arm so that the creature jumped up and then hopped up to his shoulder. As he left his rooms, he carried the raven out of the dungeons and towards the entrance hall doors. The castle was quiet still as it slowly woke from its sleep. Salazar took a moment to just breathe before he opened the doors to outside. There, on the front steps, he saw the bird off and watched as the raven disappeared into the clouds.

Once the raven had disappeared into the skies, Salazar made his way down to join Blaise and Malfoy as they waited by the shoreline of the loch. From there the run loosened his tense body and brought a sense of peace to his mind. These stolen moments in the morning to train with Blaise and Malfoy would be ones he looked forward to. Blaise too seemed to be enjoying himself, though Malfoy still only finished the run through sheer stubbornness. Einar joined them as they came to the end of their run.

Once they had stretched out properly, Salazar had Blaise and Malfoy go through what they remembered from the previous day. Satisfied, Salazar then showed the two several more movements. Einar took Blaise to practice with since the elf could match the new wolf’s strength, while Salazar matched with Malfoy. Salazar was stronger and faster, but Malfoy was surprisingly slippery. Salazar might have more experience, but the younger man gave him a good workout. When they finally parted after the last bout, Salazar held his hand out to Malfoy and helped him to his feet. Both were sweaty, but Salazar felt light. Even Malfoy looked like a weight had fallen from his shoulders. The dark haired wizard clapped Malfoy on the shoulder before he turned to the other two. Blaise had a wide grin on his face with too many teeth. Salazar had shaken his head in amusement and prodded them into stretches.

Once they had finally finished for the day, Blaise dragged Malfoy off so they could get showers and go about their day. Salazar hung back with Einar as he wandered over towards Grani’s paddock. He had spent too little time with either. He did have things to attend to, classes to prepare for, but he had a little time still before he should return to the castle. So once they reached the paddock, Salazar hopped up onto one of the posts. Immediately, Grani whickered and came cantering down the slight hill. The creature barely came to a walk before he would crash into Salazar, but instead Grani butted his head against Salazar’s chest as he stopped. The wizard had to brace himself so he would not fall backwards.

Einar chuckled and leaned against the wooden fence as he watched. “He has bonded to you.”

“We went through a crazy journey together,” Salazar responded with a chuckle as he scratched between the horse’s ears. “It is only natural.” He took the apple that Einar offered him before he offered it to Grani. He glanced at the elf then from the corner of his eye even as he continued to stroke Grani’s nose. “I do not visit him as often as I would like.” He paused then and looked over to Einar more fully. “We do not spend time together as often as I would like.”

“Such is war,” Einar replied with an understanding smile. “But perhaps we can steal moments for a game of Hnefatafl or two, just like we used to.” He looked over at Grani again. “And I will continue to join you in the mornings with those two young men. Blaise gives me a good challenge.”

Salazar chuckled and hopped off of the fence post when Grani moved away from him. “I think he enjoys not having to worry about his new strength when he matches against you.” Einar laughed in agreement as Salazar climbed out of the paddock. The two started back for the castle then, their pace sedate. Salazar unsheathed his wand then and cast a quick charm to freshen up. He wanted breakfast first, then perhaps he could steal a quick shower before classes began. As they entered, Einar broke off to sit with the rest of the refugee families while Salazar continued to the staff table. The post owls had already arrived by the time he sat, so there was an irritated owl that waited in front of his plate. Salazar quickly paid the creature and took the paper that it was there to deliver.

As he piled his plate with food, he spread out the newspaper next to him so he could read while he ate. But the top headline nearly made him spit out the mouthful of scrambled eggs that were in his mouth. In bold letters declared that Albus Dumbledore’s ‘dark secrets’ were revealed. Beneath the article was a picture of a journalist named Rita Skeeter, whose very image left a bad taste in his mouth. She was apparently to release a book entitled, “The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.” He curled his lips in a sneer as he decided that it was a rather bold title in his opinion. And most likely both part of a diversion to bring notice away from the changes of the Ministry, along with an attempt to destroy the Headmaster’s reputation.

As he skimmed through the nauseatingly glowing review of the book, Salazar skipped down to the description instead. “‘Stripping away the popular image of serene, silver-bearded wisdom, Rita Skeeter reveals the disturbed childhood, the lawless youth, the lifelong feuds and the guilty secrets Dumbledore would have carried to his grave,’” he murmured out loud. “She’s certainly a sensationalist.”

There was an irritated huff next to him and Salazar glanced over to look at Hermione as she scowled down at the paper. “She certainly kept her quill to herself. A year I had told her and she followed it to the letter. Exactly as soon as a year was up, she went back to her old ways. I should have just handed her over to Professor Dumbledore when I had the chance,” the woman grumbled as she pulled on a curly lock of her hair.

“I get the feeling that it is best that I have no idea what you are talking about,” he responded wryly and held back a smile when it made a blush blossom across Hermione’s cheeks.

The assistant professor stood up then as she cleared her throat. “Yes, quite. I’ll see you at lunch, Herrick? So we might actually discuss my findings?” She threw him a smile before she gathered up the stack of books she always seemed to have. She disappeared down through a side door after she got a quick agreement from Salazar. He watched after her in amusement before he returned to his breakfast to quickly finish it. He was not about to let the likes of Skeeter spoil his meal. He doubted there would be much actual consumption at lunch anyhow. So, once he had finished, he gathered the paper and excused himself quietly. He knew Blaise would be down in the classroom to start the preparations for class, so he made a quick stop at his room to get a shower.

Then, as luck would have it, it was not until after dinner that the group was able to come together in the Room of Requirement. He had spent lunch in his office alone, only to be visited by a red faced Hermione just a short while before classes were meant to resume for the day. Salazar had to hold back his amusement as she explained that she had lost track of time. Instead, they made plans to meet up after dinner in the Room and invite the others. When the time came, as he walked towards the Room, the twins joined him in his trek as he exited the dungeons and headed up the main staircase. Salazar ignored them in favour of his own thoughts and the book he held in his hand. The two Weasleys seemed engrossed in their own conversation so Salazar left them alone. Yet, as they climbed one of the staircases, it suddenly decided to change direction.

Startled, Salazar let out a curse as he grabbed onto the stone railing. “I would like to know just who had the positively brilliant idea to create moving staircases in a castle,” he grumbled in irritation. “It is an absolute wonder that any of the children actually make it to their classes on time!” He shot the snickering twins a glare as he stalked up the rest of the stairs, already having recalculated his route.

“You mean this wasn’t your idea, Herrick?” He pointedly decided to not turn to see which twin had spoken and also ignored the new wave of laughter the question brought forth.

“Hardly. Godric was accident prone enough. He did not need moving staircases added to that mix,” Salazar huffed. “The castle was nothing like this when we created the school. The original building was a broch. We converted it into a keep, built a wall that surrounded independent buildings.” He stopped then and looked up at the ever constant movement of the stairs. “A lot has changed and been built upon in a thousand years. Though, honestly, I have to question half the changes that have happened in my school. Moving staircases. Honestly.” He knew that some of the eccentricities of the castle were partly in due to the personality of Hogwarts herself. She had been a fledgling sentience when they had first erected the wards, but Hogwarts was alive in a way and over the years had truly grown into her own personality.

Though the twins still snickered behind him, Salazar managed to soothe his irritation before he finally arrived at the Room. When he opened the door, it was to find that Hermione, Luna, Blaise, Malfoy, William, Charles, and Einar had all gathered already. He shook his head, amused by the curious mix of characters that they made. As he made his way over to the table, Frederick and George entered behind him. Once they were all seated, Hermione immediately spread out her research on the table at the center of the room. She immediately jumped into it with barely a greeting.

“Herrick? What exact word did the king use when he told you the location of the sword?” Hermione started.

“He called it Murkwood. That word exactly,” he responded as he pulled one of the sheets closer to him to look over Hermione’s notes. “It is my impression that he might have been purposefully misleading. To, perhaps, throw us off the trail.”

Charles pulled closer some parchment as well, as he glanced over it curiously. “How so? I remember reading the muggle books by Tolkien. Mirkwood is a forest in the story. How is it a real place here? The king wouldn’t have known about Tolkien’s works.”

Hermione gave a smug grin then as she opened up a large tome that sat in front of her. “I think that the king actually used the anglicized version of Myrkviðr. Translated more fully, it means dark forest. Or a variation thereof. Now Einar has said that the Forbidden Forest was once called the Black Forest once upon a time, both Myrkviðr in Old Norse and Coille Dhubh in Scottish Gaelic. I even found a reference to Mirkwood in one of the older copies of Hogwarts: A History before the forest was renamed the Forbidden Forest. The name Murkwood, I think, is more of a description than one true place. It’s what gave me the idea.”

Though she had barely settled in her chair, Hermione bounced back to her feet and pulled up a clean chalkboard with a thought to the Room. “I have narrowed it down to six places,” she said as she flicked her wand and hoisted the large tome into her arms. “The first is the Ore Mountains. As I told Herrick though, it’s a location closer to Germany so I have my doubts it’s the resting place for the sword.” She tapped the board and the name was scrawled across the top. “The second location I came up with is the Maeotian marshes. According to my research, it was said to have separated the Goths from the Huns. The source is the Hervarar saga.” She tapped the board again to write the name. “The third and fourth locations are rather unlikely too, but I found mention of both a forest that separated the Huns from the Burgundians as well as a forest by the name of Kolmarden. That one is in Sweden and is mentioned in some legends.”

Hermione flipped a page in the tome and scrawled across the top of the board before she continued. “Ah, there is a remnant of a forest that is located south of Uppsala, also in Sweden. It’s called Lunsen now. Uppsala was important to the Norse as far as could tell, so I thought it was worth looking into.” She paused a bit and nibbled on her lower lip as she read something in her book. “Now, the last possible location is more just vague mentions in various sagas. From what I understand, it is described as a place between Asgard and Muspelheim. We can probably write that one off too, like I told Herrick. I doubt our dead king made it to what I think is a parallel plane. Still, I have it on the list, just in case.”

“Well, I suppose it gives us a place to start,” William said with a groan as he rubbed his face.

The twins cackled then as they draped themselves over their brother. “We thought you were a cursebreaker in Egypt, oh brother of ours! Where is your sense of adventure?”

“I left it in Egypt,” the man replied dryly, though a small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. He shrugged his brothers off of him though. “Still, Hermione, were you able to narrow it down any further? Or at least give us a better place to start?”

The young woman gave a little nod and circled where she had written out Maeotian marshes. “I think we should start here,” she replied as she turned back to the group. “I decided to dig a bit more into Angantyr Heidreksson himself. It was a bit hard since there really isn’t much to go on, and he wasn’t a wizard even though he managed to possess a magic sword, but from what I could gather he was once the king of what was known as Reidgotalandi and it was considered the land of the Goths. I did also happen to find an Angantyr that was mentioned in the Hervarar Saga, though I’m not entirely positive if they’re the same or not.”

Blaise raised a hand partly in the air to silently draw attention. “Fascinating. However, how does this point us in the way of the marshes? A marsh is vastly different from a forest.”

Hermione flushed lightly as her cheeks puffed up just a bit in a pout. “I am getting to that! As I found out, the Maeotian marshes is a somewhat antiquated name for the swamp at the mouth of the Tanais, or Don, river. The marshes fed into the Sea of Azov which is above the Black Sea, so the marshes are in what is modern day Russia. It’s the very edge of where the king reigned once upon a time, but I think it’s the best place to start.” She placed one hand on her hip then, the other still curled around the large tome. “Also, just because it’s a marsh doesn’t mean that there aren’t trees! That aside, I believe that it is possible that the sword’s resting place has some sort of shielding around it to keep it away from muggles. Possibly from the sword itself.”

“Yes, alright. But why not somewhere in Scandinavia? That’s where the original legends came from, wasn’t it?” Blaise pressed curiously.

Salazar chuckled then and glanced at Hermione. “One would think so, would they not?” He responded in light of Hermione’s flustered expression. “Uppsala in Sweden has the first mentions of Tyrfing, so why not think that the sword made its way back home? But then it stands to reason that someone might have found it by now. However, we do know that Tyrfing passed through different hands before finally coming to Angantyr. We must consider the idea that It is possible that it also passed through many lands as well without it ever making its way back home. Why not check in the marshes first? Riddle may not think to try there.”

Charles grinned and Salazar glanced over to him. “That’s a good enough reason for me,” he decided with a careless shrug. Gryffindors, Salazar thought with an aborted eyeroll. “We have to start somewhere and it might as well be there, right? And if it’s not there, well, then we move on to the next one. I can go check it out since being cooped up in the castle makes me restless anyhow. It’s why I worked with dragons.”

His brother, William, gave a quick nod as he shot his brother an exasperated look. “I can agree with the logic, but as if I’d let you go alone, jerk.” His expression sobered then and he looked out over the rest of the group. “Because of my work as a cursebreaker in Egypt in cooperation with the Egyptian wizarding community, I have experience with magical objects that may or may not be surrounded by nasty protections. I have a few tricks that might help point us in the right direction and make the search quicker. There is a lot of ground to cover though and detection spells might not work.” He gave a sigh and ran his fingers through his long hair. “Fleur might not be too happy, but at least it’ll keep me away from an English battlefield.”

Salazar nodded in acceptance, but then Einar shifted next to him and leaned his elbows on the table. “If you would welcome me, I believe that I might be of some help. I have, in my possession, some old maps of the area that we might be able to cross reference with more modern maps to zero in on possible locations. I have been to the area in person, as well, though it was more of a travel through so I do not know the area very well. Still, I believe I might be of some use.”

“Then it is settled,” Salazar said as he stood up. “And as we are all here, I had a thought about our other task. As I have mentioned before, I think we look for seven horcruxes.” As he picked up a piece of chalk, Salazar made seven lines across the top of the board. Over two of them, he wrote down Herrick and diary. “These have already been destroyed or delivered to Hel. We can also reasonably assume that his familiar is another one as he guards her too closely for her to be anything else.” He wrote down Nagini on a third line. “So that leaves us four more artifacts that we must find.” He set the chalk back down. “I must admit that the number seven is just conjecture on my part, but we already have evidence that he puts great confidence in magic. He relies heavily on it to the point of being overly superstitious. It consumes him.”

Hermione nodded her head in agreement, though she tapped her finger against her lip as she gave the board a thoughtful look. “We should start looking more into the places that are important to Riddle’s past. His past consumes him, he cannot let it go. His very assumed name is an anagram of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Maybe we should recheck the old orphanage site, check Little Hangleton, see if there is anything we missed. He would have put protections on the horcruxes if he left them there.”

She would have continued on in this line of thought, but William frowned as he watched the board as well. “Hold on. I’ve been meaning to ask why we are using muggle psychology? What do muggles know that mind healers don’t? I’ve been wondering about this since you brought up your theory.”

The frizzy haired woman seemed to puff up. “First of all, there is nothing wrong with muggle psychology!”

“Never said there was,” the redhead said blandly.

Hermione ignored him. “Second of all, mind healers only focus on the healing of mind magic. Magic that can tap into memory specifically.”

“Explicit and declarative memory!”

“Thank you, George.”

“I’m Fred!”

“George, do not be an ass,” Salazar interjected with a soft sigh.

Hermione looked flustered for a moment before she charged onward. “Magic can look in the mind and warp memory. Mind healers deal with reversing or fixing the problems that mind magic creates. They don’t know how the mind works in the way that it shapes personalities. They don’t understand mental disorders the way that muggles have studied it. Have you ever once known a wizard to speak about depression or anxiety? Remember when Neville first arrived? How skittish and nervous he was? Think his Gran or any of the teachers ever thought to look into treatment for a rather obvious anxiety problem?” Hermione spoke sharply as she crossed her arms. The others were quiet. Even Salazar remained silent in the face of Hermione’s rant. “If the professors had known just a little more, Riddle might not have been such a problem. Of course, I doubt there was much that could have been done to stop him from being a psychopath, but he wouldn’t have grown to be such a public problem. For all that some wizards are for muggle rights, they certainly don’t want to integrate muggle advancements!” She huffed, her cheeks pink.

“Mind healers do understand the mind to a degree,” George interrupted softly, almost hesitantly. “They have to in order to fix spell damage. But it’s no secret that, in some way, the wizarding world falls behind the muggle one. Mages have no use for muggle medicine as we are physically different in some ways and magical medicine is so much more effective. And it has been this way for decades. Any advancements are just to improve the strength and effectiveness of any existing potion or spell. There is rarely anything new. At least in the medical field as no one thinks outside of what we already know. No one recognized that there is such a thing as mental disease. The research Fred and I did was really quite eye opening.”

Hermione beamed at them. “Exactly! And muggles have a whole field of science dedicated to the mind. There are mental disorders that are studied, but also the development of personality and behaviour. There is more correlation than you would think. And even the most seemingly unpredictable persons follow patterns in thought or action. Patterns are often rooted in the past as the way we are brought up often influences our behaviours, explains why we do things or believe things. So, once you find the pattern, you can predict what they’ll do.”

“Hence the trip to the orphanage,” Salazar mused. He was quiet for a long moment before he looked over to their list of known horcruxes. “We know he was abandoned to a mundane orphanage by a witch descended from the Slytherin line. Newspapers in the area around the time of his birth headlined a scandal where the heir to a local wealthy family fell in love with the daughter of the village outcast. Tom Riddle and Merope Gaunt. It is not hard to see that his mother had used a love potion to ensnare the affections of the mundane man. Tom Marvolo Riddle was born, but left in an orphanage at the death of his mother. Being that it was a mundane orphanage, they would not have understood the needs of a wizard child. And he would have been powerful with the new blood introduced to the magical line. His accidental magic would have been extraordinary.”

Salazar placed the chalk he still held in his fingers down and walked over to the other board they had placed together, covered with pinned papers. “We know, from accounts, that the young Tom was bullied at the orphanage. There is a record of even a Christian priest being brought in, though we can only guess at what that visit entailed. Given the time period, it was likely a blessing or just an attempt to scare a youngster back onto the path of normal.” He folded his hands behind his back, his brow furrowed. “I did some research. As mentioned before, his mother was Merope Gaunt. We know his father was Tom Riddle Senior, who was later murdered when the future Dark Lord was sixteen or seventeen. The manner of death for the victims could have only involved magic. I would not be surprised if there was another horcrux in Little Hangleton, created through the murder of his mundane family.” He paused then as he glanced over a moving Azkaban photograph of Merope’s brother Morfin Gaunt that had been pinned next to some old newspaper articles. “Either in the old Riddle Manor or even the Gaunt residence.”

Hermione hummed in agreement as she finally dropped down into a seat. “I agree that they are probable locations for a horcrux. Especially if he used the murders of his muggle relatives to create one.” She gave a long sigh then and leaned back in her chair. “Riddle would have already been unstable given the history of mental illness that the Gaunts definitely projected, but then Riddle entered the wizarding world. I can imagine that he probably saw this as a bright new opportunity. He was in a world with people who were magical just like him, but then he was sorted into Slytherin.” She crossed her arms on the table then and looked down at the table. “That’s not to say that all Slytherins are evil, of course not. But the damage done to a young boy who is constantly told he is inherently wicked, first in the muggle orphanage and then in the wizarding world? The wizards failed him. Sure, he might have had these tendencies, but there is evidence in the muggle world that people with similar tendencies can go on to live somewhat normal lives. Then in Slytherin he was probably told only evil witches and wizards go to that House. In the House itself, blood supremacy would have alienated his housemates from him until he proved himself to them. It’s no surprise he turned out the way that he did.” She shook her head then. “But all that said, what exactly is his end game?”

“To purge all muggles,” Blaise spoke up from where he lounged in his chair. “To eliminate the scourge on the earth. Or so I’ve been told.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose and gave a huff. “Well, yes, but why? Was this always his plan? He started gathering followers while still in school. He was called charming and we know that his original plans were to overhaul the Ministry. I found old reforms that had been submitted to the Wizengamot, some of them surprisingly well thought out and forward thinking. Like creature rights, which shouldn’t be so surprising since a lot of creatures joined him in the beginning.” She frowned deeper and shook her head. “So, why the sudden change? Suddenly he wasn’t a political power pushing for change anymore, but instead a… well, quite frankly, a murdering menace! Was this always his plan? Or was there a break in the pattern, so to speak?”

William frowned as he watched Hermione, his expression thoughtful. “It would have to be an event of some sort, right? Something big? Well, we know that he disappeared after graduating. We know now that he was still active on the political stage through his followers and was known to have worked at Borgin and Burkes for a time, but I agree. Why the sudden open war?”

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip before she shook her head. “It is possible that Riddle changed sometime during his school years. Maybe open war could have been his plan all along, or just a benefit he capitalized on with the delicate political atmosphere at the time. Perhaps he saw open war would be far more beneficial to him when his work on the political side was too slow for his liking. The major break in his pattern, when he changed from political lobbyist to terrorist, can be traced to just shy of two years before his attack against the Potters. Before then his movements were methodical and thought out, if barbaric. Then something happened and he became erratic. Why attack the Potters? Sure, they had been outspoken opponents, but Riddle went out of his way to hunt down and kill them himself. We are missing a piece of the puzzle.”

The prophecy. Salazar frowned as the thought passed his mind. His parents had known of the prophecy, though he did not know who had spoken it and who had heard it. It was not a stretch though to think that somehow the Dark Lord had heard of it which led to the attack on Samhain night. He kept his mouth shut though since he had no way to explain how he had come across such information. It was not important right now anyhow. “I think we need to focus on his school years first and his build up to open war,” Salazar said instead. “We are already looking at a large chunk of years. I would like to see what the first major turning point in his school career was, if possible, as it might at the very least give us a clue to the location of his horcruxes.”

As he tapped his fingers absently on the table, Blaise hummed thoughtfully. “I could take a look through the old school registries in the library’s archive, find classmates of Riddle that would have gone to school with him. We know the family names of those who have served them, but there may have been Slytherin families that did not follow him. We do not have to restrict ourselves to Slytherins anyhow. In fact, those students outside of Slytherin might be able to give us an unbiased view behind the facade he put up for the school.”

“It would not hurt,” Salazar mused and gave Blaise a nod. “See if you can reach out to any of those who still remain. Mages are long lived, but not all of them might have survived either war.” Blaise nodded in agreement.

Charles leaned forward a bit against the table. “If we are talking about Riddle’s school years, I think if I remember something Moody said correctly, the Deatheaters originally called themselves the Knights of Walpurgis. I don’t know how accurate the information is, but…”

“Wait. Hold on,” Salazar interrupted. “Knights of Walpurgis? I know that name. They were a group of magical knights that were founded around the time of the Founders.” He glanced over to Einar as the elf straightened in his seat. “Godric Gryffindor was said to have been one of the founding members of the Knights.”

Einar gave a slow nod. “Yes, you are right. There was no centralized government at the time in the wizarding communities, so the Knights were created to defend mundane born children. They would also rally to protect magical families that had been discovered. I can remember a number of incidents that they put a stop to before things got truly out of hand. The Knights handed down the titles through their family lines, but would also induct new members into their ranks. They worked as men-at-arms and mounted cavalry to blend into the mundane communities.”

The others were quiet, though Salazar could see the deep concentration on Hermione’s face in particular. Einar glanced at Salazar and continued. “As the centuries passed, there became no need for the Knights,” Einar said slowly. “The beginnings of the Ministry were established and the initial drafts of the Statute of Secrecy were put into place. The magicals were protected and so the Knights were abolished, though I believe that they were actually in part integrated into the fledgling Ministry. They would be the forerunners of the Aurors. However, I had heard rumours that some of the Knights had gone underground, as they were not happy with how the wizarding community needed to hide from the mundanes.”

“Do you think there is a connection at all?” Hermione asked, her brow creased. She looked ready to dart out of her seat and Salazar got the impression that she wanted to run off towards the library so she could go do some research.

With a sigh, Salazar checked the time. “It is possible that he merely chose a name from history to try to give his group some credence. If you want to look into it, Hermione, you are more than welcome. However, please allow yourself some time to sleep tonight though.” He smiled a bit at the bright blush that stole over her cheeks, though she did give a sheepish nod. “Good. Now, I think that needs to be all for tonight. We can meet back here tomorrow over lunch if you are all willing, but the hour grows late.” Salazar stood then and turned his gaze on William, Charles, and Einar. “As discussed, I wish to task you with finding what you need to prepare for your trip to the Maeotian Marshes. The sooner you are able to leave, the better.” The Dark Lord had a head start on them, though it was hard to gauge what the madman’s approach would be. Salazar turned to the twins next. “Frederick and George, I would like for you to prepare for a return trip to Wool’s Orphanage in London. If your search winds up being fruitless, then I would like you to also search Little Hangleton. Specifically for any traces of a Horcrux. They are likely to be heavily warded, so merely note their presence and then return.” He did not need the twins to fall to a curse or some other such thing.

“Was there anything else that anyone wanted to discuss?” He asked curiously.

Malfoy raised a hand partly to bring attention to himself. “I have my duties that bring me to the Dark Lord’s side,” he said with a twist of his lips that was not pleasant. “However, I have little else to do with my time when I am in Hogwarts. So, might I make a suggestion?” He waited for Salazar’s nod before he continued. “Riddle grew up in an orphanage that abused him and he bullied in turn. When he came to Hogwarts, it opened a whole new world to him, just as we discussed. If we are to go with the theory that his horcruxes have connections to his past, would it not stand to reason that he may have hidden a horcrux here in the school?”

Malfoy glanced over to Hermione as well. “Based on your experiences with the diary, the Dark Lord created that horcrux while he was still in Hogwarts with the death of Moaning Myrtle. However, he later entrusted it into my late father’s care. Hogwarts would have likely been the first place that Riddle thought of as home. I believe he had told my late grandfather that he wanted to become a Defense professor for a time, though that may have been a cover. He had a connection to Hogwarts. He may have used one of her artifacts and hidden it here. I would like to search for it, if you would allow me.”

Salazar mulled it over and gave a slow nod. “Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, I think you might be quite right.” A thought made a sudden connection then and he straightened a little further. “I would you suggest speaking with the Grey Lady, Ravenclaw House’s resident ghost.” At the confused look, a sly smile spread across his lips. “You may be surprised to find out that she is, in fact, Helena Ravenclaw. Rowena Ravenclaw’s daughter.” Stunned silence from the room followed his words, though Luna had a knowing smile on her lips.

Hermione’s eyes were quick to light up, but Malfoy cleared his throat. “I will not ask how you came to know that, but yes. She will likely be a wonderful resource.”

Salazar chuckled and nodded his head. “Let me know when you visit her. If I am available, I would like to join you.” When Malfoy gave his acceptance, Salazar gave a slight bow to everyone. “If anyone needs anything else, you may find him in my office or my laboratory. Have a good night.” There was an echo of farewells as Salazar left.

As he made his way down the hallway, Salazar noticed then that Luna had followed after him with light steps. He paused long enough so that she could catch up with him and she gave him a soft smile. “Fenrir has asked for you,” she told him as they turned down an empty corridor.

“Has he said why?” Salazar asked with a sigh then. He had a few potions he had wanted to check in on before bed, though he supposed that they would be alright under stasis for a few hours more if needed. “Yes, alright. But only if you promise to help me with the potions later.” She was a competent brewer, enough that he had trusted her with his students when needed. She would make a fair assistant.

Luna laughed softly and gave a shake of her head as Salazar broke out of his thoughts. “He did not say, though I do have a guess. And I would be more than happy to help, dear Herrick.”

Salazar allowed himself a small smile as he followed Luna down to the dungeon infirmary. As they walked, Luna was quite content to regale him with a story of nargles and heliopaths. He had absolutely no idea what she meant, but part of him thought it was part of her Sight. She could see things that normal beings could not, so perhaps these creatures of hers really did exist. It made her happy to talk about them anyhow, so he was content to listen. When they arrived at the infirmary, she whispered a word of thanks that he barely caught. When he looked at her, there was a part of her soul that was laid bare in her eyes. When he blinked, it was gone and she had her usual starry smile.

With a small smile of his own, Salazar gave her a quick nod and then turned towards the cells. Over the last few weeks, Greyback had remained there. He had passed on some information about the Dark Lord’s inner circle, but Dumbledore had not seemed to be in any hurry to release the wolf. Now, it seemed that Greyback had likely come to the end of his patience. As he walked towards the werewolf’s cell, Greyback already waited by the door as he had likely heard them come into the infirmary. The cell itself had been expanded through a nudge to Hogwarts so that it looked more like a room at an inn with a barred door than a cell block. The werewolf had been given a chance to clean up as well with a specially spelled grooming kit that wouldn’t allow him to hurt others or himself. The man had cleaned up well and bore little resemblance to the half-crazed creature that had shown up at the castle gates. He was still a large hulking figure of a man but he did not come off as feral or mad any longer.

Salazar looked over the man’s changed appearance. He had shaved closely, though there was some stubble that made him look rugged rather than feral. Even the scars over the man’s face looked rugged. He had cut his white hair as well, with it shaved close to his scalp on one side and left long on top. With a hum of approval, Salazar met the werewolf’s moonlit eyes. “You wanted to see me, Greyback?”

The wolf leaned against the bars of his cell and gave a slight nod, his expression serious. “I know you still do not trust me. Dumbledore certainly does not trust me. But I wanted to petition you to beseech the headmaster on my behalf to allow me to walk freely. I can swear an oath and you can fit me with whatever spells you deem necessary, but I am growing restless in this pretty cage. There is more that I can do freely than I can do while in here.”

Salazar was quiet as he regarded the man. He did seem to be truthful, but it was also true that he still did not trust the man. He spared Luna a glance and she gave him a sweet smile. Whether or not he trusted Greyback, he did trust Luna’s Sight and she had said that Greyback would play a part. He could not play that part when confined to a cage. So, he was willing to give the wolf a chance. “Ultimately, it is not my choice,” Salazar said finally as he turned his gaze back to Greyback. “However, I can bring your case to the Headmaster in the morning. I cannot make any promises, but I will try on your behalf.”

Greyback looked relieved as he pulled back from the cell bars. He gave a nod, so Salazar continued. “If the Headmaster agrees, then I will likely set the condition on some sort of Oath.”

“I understand,” Greyback said with a wry smile. He had no room to complain if he wanted to be free of the cell.

Salazar lingered a little while longer, just to make light conversation with Greyback. He wanted to understand the wolf a little better and Greyback seemed open to it. The conversation ended with a turn towards Greyback’s childhood. He had been born in the Scottish Highlands, but had been unable to attend Hogwarts because he was a werewolf. He had been homeschooled in magic within the pack he had been born. Greyback then admitted that he had strayed during his youth, angry against the wizarding world for their prejudice against creatures.

“I wanted to burn the world,” Greyback murmured. “So I turned children of those outspoken against werewolves. Not many, but enough. And then the Dark Lord reached out to me, offered equality in exchange for service. I agreed for a time. But then I took a mate and she told me she was pregnant.” Greyback smiled, his eyes far away. “It made me reevaluate my life, just what I was doing. So I tried to get out. The Dark Lord did not take it well,” he frowned deeply. “My mistakes took my sons and mate away from me.”

Salazar was quiet a moment before he stepped closer to the cell door. “What will you do when this is all over?”

“Create a new pack and leave the wizarding world,” Greyback said instantly. “I will gather all those werewolves out there that need a family and create that family for them. After that, I do not know.”

Salazar nodded in a acceptance before he spared Luna a quick glance. Her smile was as knowing as ever. She gave a little nod, so Salazar looked back to Greyback. “Go north,” he said. “To the Northern communities. The wilds are different from here in the British Isles, but the communities there will be more than welcoming.” He gave a little smile. “You know I am Salazar Slytherin,” he said quietly. “I had a home in Fyrkat once long ago. You visited one of the communities there where you found Blaise Zabini and saved his life. You can find home there as well.”

Surprise flickered across Greyback’s face, but then it melted into quiet contemplation. Salazar smiled a bit and then gave a slight bow. “I will leave you with that,” he said softly. “Have a good night, Greyback.” He got a nod in return, so Salazar turned and left with Luna close behind.

“He will go north,” Salazar stated as they took the short journey to his laboratory.

Luna laughed as they entered and she grabbed an apron from off a hook. “He will,” she agreed. “He will not be the only one.” She said nothing else about it as she went over to a station to see what potions Salazar had bubbling away.

He could think himself into circles if he dwelled on what Luna had said, so instead Salazar focused on the potions. Madam Pomfrey had asked him to replenish some of the potions for her infirmary. He had plenty of Pepperup currently brewing that were near the last stages. They just needed to be finished and then bottled. So once they were finished, he set Luna to getting the potions bottled.

They worked for several hours, far into the already late night. Still, Luna’s presence meant that he did not need to pull an all-nighter. He was able to get some sleep, though he was late to bed and early to rise like every morning. He had to cut his training with Blaise and Malfoy short so that he might catch Dumbledore before breakfast, but Einar was more than happy to continue the new wolf’s lessons on Glima while Malfoy looked on for pointers.

With little time to go take a shower, it left Salazar with a few spells to freshen up as he made his way to the Headmaster’s office. The password had changed once more, though it only took a short list through the usual wizarding sweets before the stone guardian leapt out of the way. As he ascended the staircase, he took the time to gather his thoughts. Though it had taken time to get to this point, Salazar had faith that Dumbledore would allow Greyback his freedom. It might take him time to convince the headmaster, but Salazar knew he would be able to do it. So it was with calm that he entered the Headmaster’s office.

“Good morning, Professor Evans, my boy. How might I help you?” Dumbledore asked as he retrieved a book from the many on his haphazard shelves.

As he ignored the soft trill of greeting that Fawkes sent him, Salazar absently looked over the many silver trinkets that whistled and whirled from their places on the shelves not filled with books. “I wanted to gain your permission in releasing Fenrir Greyback,” he stated bluntly.

Dumbledore paused in his actions and turned with a look of honest surprise. “Oh? And why is that? Surely you know what he’s done?” There wasn’t any heat or anger behind the request, just curious inquiry.

“I have heard the stories,” Salazar stated easily. “I have also spoken with Greyback himself, who allowed me a glimpse into his motives. What has been done and what is true of the man is yet to be fully known. We cannot trust him. Not yet. However, how will we ever know if we keep him locked away in a room? That all said, I do have faith that he is truly remorseful for the things he has done.” Salazar gave a grim smile then. “War sees atrocities and brings out the monsters in men. Can they be forgotten? No. It is how we learn and become better. Fenrir Greyback was just as much the victim of war. He is not fully innocent, but he has the opportunity now to repay for the crimes he truly has committed. He has the opportunity to help us if we only give him the chance. He has made mistakes, but I feel he has the potential to be a good man.”

The Headmaster had turned towards him, a serious expression on his face. It was a rather stark contrast to the vibrant purple robes that the elderly man wore. The dancing silver stars were actually rather distracting, but Salazar tore his eyes away. Salazar pressed on as Dumbledore had not spoken yet. “There are spells to keep him from harming any of the children and to keep him from contacting Riddle,” Salazar began. “In particular, I would like to use a vassal spell. It will allow him freedom to make his own choices, but nothing that would go against the limits we set. He told us he could be helpful, Headmaster, but he cannot do it from his cell.”

Dumbledore made his way over to his desk and took a seat, book set down in front of him. “If I were to agree to this, then you would take complete responsibility for him,” he stated calmly as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes on Salazar.

As he stepped up to stand in front of Dumbledore’s desk, Salazar gave a quick nod. “Of course, Headmaster. I imagine it would work just as well to test my own loyalties. If Greyback strays, it could only be under my compulsion.”

A quick smile curved Dumbledore’s lips, but he did not deny that subtle accusation. “Then you have my permission. But only so long as you tell Remus first.” The Headmaster’s eyes had a twinkle of mischief and Salazar had to fight back a groan. Of course. Lupin was not going to be a happy man. There was also the chance that the man would be in the company of Black, his godfather, who Salazar avoided at all costs. How did one explain that they were the long lost godson that everyone believed was likely dead? Godric would have called him a coward, though Salazar liked to think that he was merely exercising self preservation. Who knew how the older man would respond? Would he even believe him? How would he explain how much he had changed without giving away his more recent past? Would Black’s love for his godson even win over the man’s hatred for all things Slytherin? Too many questions.

“Professor Evans?”

Salazar blinked and focused back on the aged Headmaster. “Apologies, Headmaster. It seems I let my thoughts run away from me. I will speak with Lupin and let you know what will be decided,” he told the man, ready to get out of the office so he could head down to breakfast.

“Very good. But just a moment, my boy,” the Headmaster interrupted Salazar’s attempt to leave.

He had to wonder what the Headmaster wanted with him. Honestly, it was so hard to read the old man. He could have wanted anything. “Is there something I can help you with, Headmaster?”

“I merely wished to inquire about your search for Tyrfing,” the Headmaster asked with a pleasant smile. “You have brought together quite a mixed gathering of individuals.”

That was not what he had expected, though he did know how to answer the inquiry. “Miss Granger has been particularly insightful,” Salazar began. “She has narrowed down to a small number of locations that could be potential locations for the sword. William Weasley has finished with the Hogsmeade wards, so he and his brother Charles will be going to the first of the locations on Miss Granger’s list. Einar will be accompanying them as they travel to the Maeotian Marshes.”

“As a cursebreaker, Bill Weasley will be essential when it comes to a powerful magical artifact,” Dumbledore agreed. “I would assume that they will take the journey soon?”

Salazar inclined his head, his hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, sir,” he stated simply before he elaborated. “They need time to gather the needed supplies for their journey, but the intention is for them to leave within the next few days.”

“Very good,” the headmaster said as he opened up the book on his desk. “I look forward to hearing about the results of their trip.” The tone was dismissive, so Salazar gave a slight bow with his head and turned on his heel with his hands still clasped behind his back.

He wanted to talk to Lupin as soon as possible, but there was not much time before breakfast would be over. Blaise would be able to prepare the classroom for the first class of the morning, but Salazar wanted to get himself something to eat. Yet, as he neared the Great Hall, Salazar spotted Lupin exit the Hall. With a soft sigh, he decided that he could always request something be brought to his office instead. He really did want to talk to the ragged werewolf as soon as he could. So, he hurried his steps a little and called out to the man. “Lupin!” The man stopped immediately at the call of his name. Salazar strode quickly closer and offered a polite smile. “Do you think I could have a moment of your time?” He was just glad that at least he had caught the man away from Black as he would not have enjoyed the conversation with both men present. He might not have even been able to get that far as Black would have directed Lupin away most likely.

“Evans,” the werewolf greeted mildly. “I’m not busy. What can I help you with?” The man looked cautious, but it was better than suspicion that Black would have immediately put up.

“I would like to have a quick word with you, if you would be so kind. However, it is not a conversation that should be out in the open like this,” Salazar said lightly. “So, If you do not mind following me to my office.” He also wanted to have breakfast brought to him since he did not think that the conversation would carry on too long. At least he hoped not. Thankfully, Lupin followed him with little hesitation, though the silence that followed them along their walk down to the dungeons was awkward.

Once in his office, Salazar invited Lupin to have a seat as he rounded his desk. “We got off on the wrong foot, you and I. After I arrived so suddenly, you have been civil to me and I do want you to know that I appreciate it. With the world we live in, we cannot afford to have feuds between allies.” Salazar leaned back in his chair. “That being said, I want to be open to you and I would like it if you would give me the courtesy of listening fully.” He knew that his words made Lupin antsy, but he would privately admit that he simply delayed the inevitable. He had to get it over with.

Lupin gave a nod, but still did not otherwise say a word. His eyes were narrowed and it looked like he tried to get a read on the dark haired wizard by sight alone. Salazar tried not to let it get to him as he paused a moment and then took a breath. “I know you have a grievance with Greyback. He told me of how he had bitten you as a child,” he said carefully. He watched as Lupin stiffened, but luckily the man continued to hold his tongue. “You would need to speak to him on your own, but he seems genuinely apologetic for what he has done. He says he was a young man and angry with the world. He made mistakes in the name of equality and he regrets things he has done.” He paused to let it sink in, though Lupin had pressed his lips together into a white line. “I do believe there is truth in what he says and he is not as terrible as he has been made out to be. Perhaps not an innocent, but who among us is innocent in a war? I will put precautions in place, but I want to free Greyback from his cell. We could use his help.”

Lupin was very still, almost unnaturally so, which prompted Salazar to hold up a hand to forestall any objections. He quickly tried to put the worst of Lupin’s fears to rest. “I would like to reiterate that I do intend on taking precautions. Greyback will not be allowed to roam the castle itself without a chaperone for one. I also intend to use a vassal spell.”

That at least seemed to bring Lupin up short. The werewolf’s brow furrowed and he frowned. “A vassal spell?” He wrapped his mouth around the words as if he would try them out. “I understand that a vassal is a servant of a sort, but I am not aware of any spells that relate to such a station. So, how do you mean and what would such a spell entail?”

Salazar gave a slight smile. “It was a spell used by old wizarding Lords once upon a time,” he said in explanation. He had seen the precursors of the spell. “The Headmaster has agreed to it, so Greyback will vow to me his loyalty and it will prevent him from reaching out to those I see as my enemy. The spell is not infallible, but it will give me an awareness of Greyback so I will know his location at all times. The spell would also give me the ability to call upon Greyback to fight my enemies.” In return for the service that Greyback would provide him through his pledge, Salazar would in turn grant the werewolf his protection. “It has its origins in the Northmen’s homeland, though eventually the practice migrated to the English Isles.” Salazar could see the conflict in Lupin’s eyes. There was his nature as a scholar that wanted to research this new spellwork that warred against his hatred for Greyback.

In an attempt to help settle the internal conflict, Salazar leaned forward against this desk some. “You do not have to like him.” He gave a small smile, humourless. “I certainly do not like him.” Not yet. He had not had a chance to really know the wolf, after all. Salazar only knew him as yet another mission that Luna had set him upon. “It would be naive of me to think that he is innocent. However, it is unfortunate that we are in the middle of a war and we need all the help we can get. Greyback is an asset that we would be foolish to ignore, though that does not mean of course that we should not create safeguards. The vassal spell would be one such way.”

Lupin finally gave a short nod, his shoulders still tense and his jaw clenched. “Then you will not mind if I keep an eye on him as well and not just take your word for it,” he said before he stood up. “And I will be letting Sirius know.” He headed towards the doors. He paused then and looked back at the younger man, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Albus made you tell me yourself, didn’t he?” The man’s voice was gentler then, a resigned slump to his shoulders. It was a far cry closer to how Salazar remembered the man from before. “The meddling old man. I will want to be there when you place the spell on Greyback, but only once I’ve been able to do more research on the spell you intend to use. As you have a class to teach, I’ll use my own resources.” The quick departure was a telling sign that Lupin wanted to sort through his thoughts in private. Salazar did not blame the man.

And not all was well between them, but it was at least a start and perhaps they had at least made it back to civility between them. Salazar inclined his head in agreement, not surprised at all that Lupin would want to do his own research. So, he extended an offer of help in the correct direction. “I would expect nothing less. Just know that it is an old spell, more of a ceremony and a ritual than modern wand waving magic. If it has a name, I am unsure of it. All references I have seen just refer to it as an Oath of Fealty or a vassal spell.” Lupin nodded at the offered olive branch before he gave a soft goodbye. As he left Salazar’s office, his expression was troubled but also thoughtful. Salazar hoped it was a step in the right direction.

With the older man gone, Salazar called for a house elf to bring him a quick breakfast. He dug into it once it had arrived, just barely able to finish it in time to hurry off to his first class. He was lucky to have Blaise as an assistant as he had prepared everything needed. With the man’s help, the class went by without incident. The rest of the week went by too without much excitement and no word yet from Lupin. Salazar had been down to update Greyback on the progress of his release, but there was little more he could do for the wolf. He could tell Greyback grew increasingly restless.

It was not until the next Saturday that the group assembled once more in the Room of Requirement. They had gathered to eat breakfast together. Salazar had arrived first with Einar, Blaise, and Malfoy all in tow as they had finished their usual morning workout on the grounds together. Blaise in particular had really taken to the lessons on Glima. He advanced quickly and really gave Salazar a good work out when the new wolf did not match against Einar. Even Malfoy seemed to get some sort of enjoyment from it, stubbornness always lit in his eyes.

As Salazar spoke with a house elf to request breakfast be brought to them, the twins were the next to arrive. They had packs over their shoulders, ready to depart once they had all eaten and gone over last minute details. Salazar greeted them as they dumped themselves into chairs and unrolled a map between the two of them. He let them be as he turned back to the house elf, who disappeared after a moment.

Hermione was next to arrive, hair all disarrayed and books in her arms as usual. Amused, Salazar took some of the books from her and carried them over to the table for her. She gave him a flustered smile as she dropped down into a chair and grabbed a book off her stack. She quickly had a nose within its pages, so Salazar left her to it with another amused smile. As he took his own seat, the food arrived. William and Charles were not far behind. Salazar invited them over as they dropped down their own packs near the door.

Once everyone had served their plates, Salazar turned to the twins. “Frederick,” he picked out the twin in particular, but was interrupted.

“You know, you could just call me Fred. Frederick makes me sound old. I’m not old.” Salazar frowned at the interruption, a little taken aback. The redhead gave him an unrepentant grin. “Seriously. You can call us by our nicknames and we would all be absolutely fine with that. We’re all friends, right? Even Drakie and Blaisie are our friends now. Mind blown, huh?”

Malfoy’s head shot up and he gave Frederick - Fred - an acidic glare. “If you call me that again, Weasley, I will not hesitate to show you where you can shove that nickname,” the blonde said waspishly.

George grinned and batted his eyes at Malfoy. “See, now, you can call us by our names and nicknames too. Because we’re all friends now, just as Gred said.”

Salazar pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in deeply. “Yes, alright. Can we get back on track? Fred, then,” he tried to contain the sudden chaos at the table. “If it was really a concern, why has it taken so long to correct me anyhow?” He complained as he looked over at Einar who had leaned back, amusement stretched across his face as he did nothing but watch. Salazar shot him a look, but was not able to say anything more as Charles spoke up next.

The rugged Weasley grinned at Salazar, just as much mischief in his eyes as his younger brother. “And you can call me Charlie, you know. Since we’re on the topic.”

“And me as Bill,” the eldest Weasley son had to chip in, a little twist to his lips that broke his otherwise composed expression.

Salazar shot the older Weasley brothers an irritated stare. “Yes, quite. Might I continue?” He ignored the snickers from the group, the twins the loudest. “Fred,” he tried again. “As we have already discussed, the old matron of Wool’s Orphanage, a Missus Cole, has since passed away. However, I was able to find that she still does have living family in the form of an elderly daughter and her daughter’s daughter.” He held out a small roll of parchment. “This is her address here. The location of the old orphanage is there as well, though I do have my doubts that you will have much luck with it. The building itself has since been torn down, but if Riddle left anything then he would have put it under heavy protections. Even if you cannot work past the protections, you should be able to at least sense the residue.”

George took the scroll and opened it up. He glanced over it and showed it to his brother before they both shot Salazar a grin. “We figure that they can’t keep kids cooped up in a building all year round, so we hope that she’ll have knowledge of holidays they might have taken the kids on. Other places that might have some sort of significance for old Riddle.”

It was a good idea, Salazar thought. He gave a nod of agreement. “It would be a good place to start if the orphanage itself will be a bust.”

The twins nodded and gave matching salutes. “Aye, aye! We’ll get going then.” Theirs was probably the easiest assignment in terms of travel, but they looked eager to get to it, so Salazar waved them off as Hermione offered them good luck. The twins quickly downed the rest of their breakfasts and grabbed their packs on the way out. As the door closed behind them, Salazar shook his head and scooped up some of his eggs to eat.

William, or Bill he supposed, leaned forward then, some bacon in hand. “I’ve managed to secure a portkey through Gringotts. Since we can’t get Ministry sanctioned ones anymore for secure international travel, I used my contacts as work to get us one from the bank.” He chuckled then and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Fleur wasn’t too happy about our planned excursion, but I think it’s just her hormones talking.” He paled then and looked at his brother with wide eyes. “And don’t you go about repeating that to her! She’ll have my hide!”

Charles - Charlie - snickered but gave his brother a thumbs up. He turned towards Salazar then. “I borrowed our father’s tent and fully stocked it with a month’s worth of food. Perhaps we won’t be out there that long, but I figured it would be better to be prepared.” He gave a shrug. “I’m pretty used to roughing it because of the Reserve I worked on. We’ll be fine in that regard at least.”

Looking over to his friend as well, Einar chuckled as he tore off apart a piece of toast. “My contribution, of course, is that I have collected a number of maps. I have procured modern mundane ones as well as old ones I copied from the Hogwarts’ library. In addition to my knowledge from my extensive wandering of Midgard, I believe we will be able to at least narrow it down to the likeliest of places. From there we can affirm or reject the location.”

“We should probably talk about what we’ll do once we find it,” Bill interjected. “There is a chance that we may just find the sword. What then? There are bound to be some natural protections around it just from how long it has lain in one place as a powerful magical artifact. I saw many such objects in Egypt, so I know how to remove them safely at least.”

Hermione raised her hand out of seeming habit. “I have the answer to that one,” she said before she stood up. “Knowing that it is a Viking sword, I was able to guess at the dimensions. I had Professor Flitwick help me charm it.” She grabbed something from a back table and brought it over to the table where everyone was seated. The object was a large wooden box with two latches. “This is a magical containment box. It’ll keep it secure enough for transport to bring it back here. From there, we can decide what to do with it. With the wards fixed, Hogwarts is the safest place. At least for a time. Long enough.” She said the last part firmly.

Bill stuffed the rest of his bacon into his mouth, then stood up and walked around to get a better look at the box. “Oh, clever. We use these sometimes too, but you’ve done this custom, right? It should be easier for it to contain the magic the sword will probably be emitting. Removing magical objects can sometimes send out ripples. This will keep it in check.”

A knock came at the door then and interrupted the small group. Salazar cautiously went to answer it, curious too to see who was on the other side. Who would have known they were here and what would they want? He opened the door and was surprised to see just who stood on the other side.

“Lupin,” he greeted with some surprise as his eyes flickered to the other man who stood there. “And Black.” Salazar still was not sure what to make of the surly man. His godfather, as it were. A scarce few recovered memories recalled a far different man from the one he knew now. “Is there something that I can help you with?”

The werewolf glanced through the doorway. “Ah, we were not interrupting anything, were we? A house elf said we’d be able to find you here when you weren’t in your office.”

Salazar regarded them curiously before he gave a small nod. “We were just finishing up actually. If you would be so kind as to return to my office to wait, I can be there shortly. Unless there is somewhere else you would like me to meet you?”

“Your office is fine,” Lupin said, giving their odd group another curious look. He led Black away though while he ignored the Auror’s suspicious stare back at Salazar.

Salazar gave a sigh as he turned back to the group that was still around the table. “I best not keep them waiting too long. Particularly Black.” He was glad that the twins weren’t there to send more knowing looks his way. “I think that was all we really had to go over this morning,” he said before he turned his attention to Draco. “Once I deal with whatever Lupin and Black need, would you like to accompany me in meeting with Helena Ravenclaw?” He got a nod in reply, so Salazar smiled and turned to the three in charge of the search for Tyrfing. “If anything else happens, please keep me informed. Take one of the school owls with you,” he suggested.

Draco stood from his spot as he wiped at his mouth with a napkin. “I will search for Helena,” he told Salazar. “Once I find her, we can meet you in the Astronomy Tower as it will give us a measure of privacy.”

Salazar nodded in agreement. “I will meet you there,” he promised before he turned on his heel to leave. He spotted Luna’s wave as he turned, so he gave a sigh as he closed the door behind him.

In the office, Lupin had seated himself in the chair normally used by students in front of Salazar’s desk. Black stood by his collection of books as he studied the spines, though seemed to be unimpressed that he was unable to really read the titles. Most of the books were not written in English, so Salazar was not surprised. “They are not books on the Dark Arts, if that is what you were thinking,” he said as he made his way over to his desk to sit. “Most of them are on potions or herbal ingredients.”

He offered Lupin a small smile then. “Now then. There was something that you wished to speak to me about, yes?”

Lupin nodded as he pulled a worn leather journal from his robes. He opened it to a page then and offered it to Salazar. “I was able to find some information on the spell that you mentioned, so Sirius and I discussed it over. Those are the terms that we want included into the Oath. If you can agree to those terms, then you’ll have my blessing. I apologize that it took so long.”

Salazar accepted the journal and looked over the looping script. He looked up then after a few moments. “This is very tightly binding,” he observed evenly.

“Yes. But it kills two birds with one stone, doesn’t it?” Black spoke up. “If he goes berserk, then we know just who to blame, don’t we?”

Salazar did not even look at the man. He knew that Black had only tried to get a rise out of him, but he refused to be bothered. “Yes, I mentioned the same thing to the Headmaster,” he said absently as he read over the script again, as he already formed the Oath’s verses. “I shall bring it before Greyback then so he might be able to look it over himself.”

Lupin gave a short nod. “Of course. But he cannot alter any of the lines,” the werewolf said firmly.

After he had copied the text with a neat little spell, Salazar handed the worn journal back to its owner. “Of course.” Salazar had little doubt that Greyback would agree, as long as he could swear the Oath to him instead of being sworn to Dumbledore. “If he agrees then, and I have no doubt that he will, shall we set the time for him to take the Oath for tomorrow evening just past curfew? I assume that you shall want to be there.”

“Wouldn’t want you to try any funny business, Evans,” Black muttered, but Salazar ignored him in favour of Lupin.

At the man’s agreeable nod, Salazar rolled up the parchment he had spelled the Oath onto. “Very good. I shall then, presumably, see you both tomorrow. If he disagrees with the wording, I shall send you a missive to see if it might be anything that can be adjusted. If that is all though, I have other things that I have to attend to.”

Black rolled his eyes and then turned on his heel to leave, though Lupin gave him a farewell. After the two had left, Salazar sighed and unrolled the parchment again to look it over once more. He knew that Greyback was eager to leave his confinement, but would he be willing to be bound with magic like this? Really, there was only one way to find out. Draco waited for him, but the infirmary was not too far of a distance out of his way. He could leave the parchment with Greyback at the very least.

When Salazar approached the cell a short time later, the werewolf seemed to have been there to wait for him as soon as he had entered the dungeon infirmary. “So? What’s my verdict?” The man said by way of greeting and gave a toothy grin, the same greeting as always, but Salazar felt as if he could sense the anxiety behind the carefree facade.

He did not wait long to pass the rolled up parchment to Greyback through the bars. “As you know, Dumbledore has agreed to let you roam free. However, only if you are tethered by a vassal spell that you will swear to me,” he said. “That parchment is the terms that have been set. You are welcome to look it over and let me know if you are agreeable to them.”

“Aye,” Greyback agreed grimly as he took the parchment. “The Dark Lord’s Dark Marks are a variation on such magic. Hard to find loopholes with.” He was silent as he read over the terms. He was quiet for a long moment, enough that Salazar was ready to leave to allow him to think it over. However, Greyback looked up at Salazar and gave him a hard stare. “I’ll do it. I’ll swear it.”

Salazar was surprised by the easy acceptance, but gave a nod. “I will write the exact wording for the Oath,” he told the werewolf. “Lupin and Black want to act as witnesses. So, tomorrow night you will give the Oath as promised.” Greyback gave a nod and handed the parchment back over. With it stashed into a pocket, the dark haired wizard left Greyback alone with his thoughts. He instead went to meet up with Draco and Helena in the Astronomy Tower.

When Salazar arrived, Malfoy was already there with Helena. The ghost floated along the Tower wall, in an absent conversation with Draco. However, when she spotted Salazar, the apparition of the young woman brightened and she drifted closer to the dark haired wizard. "Herrick, it has been too long," she told him with a light scold, though she had a smile that played about her lips.

"I am sorry, my dear," he said as he gave her a small smile in return. "You are always welcome to join me in my office after hours. I would enjoy spending time with you." But now was not the time or the company to be able to reminisce. So, Salazar glanced over to Draco before he turned his attention fully on Helena once more. "Unfortunately, we do have something important we need to ask you. It would have been between fifty and sixty years ago, around the time that Myrtle joined the ranks of the Hogwarts' ghosts.”

Helena frowned and drifted away a little bit, a distant look on her face. “Myrtle? Yes, Myrtle. The little girl in the second floor lavatory,” she said as she floated back closer to the two men.

Salazar nodded. “Around the same time that Myrtle joined the Hogwarts’ ghosts, there was another student. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Do you remember him?” Ghosts did not always measure time the same way that humans did, but if he could give her a frame of reference then she might be able to remember. But as soon as he spoke Riddle’s name, Helena seemed to freeze completely. She faded just ever so slightly and floated up towards the ceiling. Salazar narrowed his eyes. “Helena,” he said sternly. He had not seen her grow up like he should have, but she was as close to a niece as he would likely ever get.

At the firm voice, Helena turned her head away and placed a hand over her chest where blood appeared to eternally glisten. Salazar once more wondered just how Rowena’s daughter had died. “There was a boy,” Helena suddenly whispered. “Charming. He was a Slytherin student, but he somehow seemed to know who I was, who my mother was. He asked me about my mother’s diadem.” Salazar frowned as he tried to picture the artifact that Helena spoke of, but he could not right away. Finally, he recalled one of Rowena’s side projects, a circlet that was supposed to help increase the wisdom of the wearer.

“The Crown of Wisdom,” Salazar stated, to which Helena gave a nod and a weak smile.

"I coveted it,” she whispered painfully, unable to meet Salazar’s gaze. “I was envious of her knowledge, of her fame. I was always Rowena’s daughter, never Helena. So, I stole the diadem and ran. I sought to make myself cleverer, to become more important than my mother somehow.” She closed her eyes. “Mother fell ill. Terribly ill. Yet, she still sought to forgive me and wanted to see me again before her death. So, she sent a man after me, one who had long loved me. Odalric.” Salazar tried not to startle at the name as he had recognized it. He had only known the boy for a year before he had been banished, but Salazar had known Odalric. He had taught him as part of his house. But that would make him twelve years older than Helena at least.

The phantom wrapped her arms around herself and Salazar suddenly saw a very young woman, barely more than a child. “Odalric had long loved me even with the difference in our ages, though I always spurned his advances. Still, mother knew that he would not rest until he had found me." She trembled and looked finally at Salazar. Draco stood silently behind them, his brow furrowed. “And he did. Odalric caught up to me in a forest in what is now Albania. When I turned his advances away again, he attacked me. I had already hidden the diadem. When I woke again, it was as this. With nothing else to do, I returned to Hogwarts. Odalric followed me in the same state.”

Salazar could revisit the diadem in a moment. Instead, he focused on Odalric. “Who?” He stated coldly, though fire flared in his eyes.

Helena hesitated at Salazar’s ire, but then floated down close to the floor again as if she could make herself look small. “After a few centuries, he lost his name and he took on the moniker of the Bloody Baron.”

With that knowledge, Salazar gave a sharp nod. He had seen the Baron in passing as the ghost was the pseudo mascot of Slytherin House. He would like a word with the phantom. But that was for a later time, so he got his mind back on track. “Even in this state, were you able to return to your mother in time?” He asked Helena gently, but the woman shook her head sadly.

“Unfortunately, no,” she said softly. “You know, they say that my mother never admitted to Aunt Helga that the diadem was gone, but she had instead pretended that she still had it. She concealed both her loss of the diadem and my terrible betrayal. She passed before I was able to make it back home to Hogwarts. I was too late and it has been that regret that keeps me here.”

He wanted to comfort Helena, but could do so later sometime in private. “You told Riddle of the diadem’s location,” he stated. It was not a question.

“Yes,” she said regretfully. “He promised me that he would destroy the diadem, but I felt its presence return to Hogwarts. I never saw it again.”

Salazar looked over his shoulder at Draco. “Ravenclaw’s Crown of Wisdom is one of Riddle’s horcruxes and is here at Hogwarts,” he said solemnly.

With a grim nod, Draco glanced over to Helena. “I have an idea of where it might be, now that I know what to look for,” he said quietly. “I will keep you informed.”

“Take caution should you find it,” Salazar said. “Though it is not likely to respond in the same manner as the diary reportedly acted, I would not put it past Riddle to have cursed it in some manner after he had used it as a vessel.”

Draco nodded in agreement. He gave Helena a quick word of thanks before he bowed slightly to Salazar in goodbye. He quickly turned on his heel, determination lined in his face. With him gone, Salazar turned his attention fully back to Helena. Her eyes were on the floor, no trace of the haughty demeanor she often wore.

“We all make mistakes,” he told her quietly in Gaelic. “We all wish to be more than the shadows we can find ourselves in.”

“Yet my mistake cost me my life and cost my mother her daughter,” Helena said bitterly.

Salazar was quiet a moment as he looked over Helena. “Samhain has just passed us. Did you not see your mother then? She visited me.”

Helena gave a sharp shake of her head. “I have been too afraid to face her.”

Salazar frowned at the response, but he could not be too surprised. After so long, it would have become harder and harder to face her mother. “Next Samhain, be with me. We shall greet your mother together. I have my own past I need to confront.” When Helena looked up at him, Salazar gave her a smile and a sweep of his hand. “How about you follow me down to my office? You can tell me how Hogwarts has grown over the years you have wandered its halls.”

With her in agreement, Salazar led the way down to the dungeons at a sedate pace. Helena chattered the entire time, eager to put her mind on other things. She pointed out things every so often as they made the trek down to Salazar’s office. Once there, he took a seat on the couch in front of the hearth while Helena settled herself into a chair. She hovered over the cushion some, but it was less awkward than if she had floated about the room.

Over the course of several hours, Salazar enjoyed the chance to get to know Helena. He even enchanted a set of game pieces so they could play together while they conversed about many things. Helena had many stories to tell and Salazar enjoyed them all.

It was the next night that found him back at the infirmary with both Black and Lupin there as witnesses for Greyback’s Oath. The two wizards had their wands trained on Greyback as Salazar released him from the cell, but Salazar ignored them to focus on the wolf. Though Greyback had not tried anything yet, it would be foolish of him to let his guard down. So, with Greyback released, Salazar returned his wand to him as he held his own ready in his hands.

After a roll of his eyes as both Lupin and Black tightened their grips on their wands, Greyback got down onto both of his knees and held both of his palms up with his wand laid across them in an act of offering.

After a moment of silence, Greyback looked up at Salazar and held his gaze firmly. “Tonight, I kneel before Gods and magick to swear on my life that I will in the future be faithful to he who is Herrick,” he began, his gravelly voice solemn. “I declare my promise to never cause him harm, to observe my homage to him completely in good faith and without deceit. I shall follow his decree in all things and that, from this hour in the future, I will be faithful to him with regard to both his life and to the members of his body in good faith and without deception. Nor will I ever with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to him. I will help him to hold, have, and defend against all men and women who might wish to seize or deprive him of all he stands to protect. As I swear it, so shall it be.” As he spoke, the tip of his wand began to glow a brilliant white that was almost eerily ringed with a black blaze.

When he finished his Oath, Salazar placed his hand on Greyback’s head and smiled. The next part the two behind him would not dare interrupt in case there was a backlash of magic, but Salazar was sure they would be none too pleased with him once he had finished. Instead of just accepting the Oath with simple words, Salazar took a deep breath. “It is right that those who offer to me unbroken fidelity should be protected by my aid. And since Fenrir Greyback has seen fit to swear trust and fidelity to me, Herrick, therefore I decree and command that he shall see the protection of my House. As I swear it, so shall it be.”

As he spoke the words, the spark at the tip of Greyback’s wand broke from the wood and separated into two parts. One flew to Greyback’s neck and etched itself into his skin as a brand, like a collar about his throat. It faded into his skin, though Salazar knew that it would flare up should the Oath be tested. The spark of magic that came towards him wrapped around his wrist with a mild burn and disappeared just as suddenly. Salazar sheathed his wand, the bond in place. 

“What the hell was that, Evans?” Black snarled as Salazar watched Greyback stand up. At the growl that came from Lupin, Salazar turned to look at the two of them evenly. He would not be intimidated. He felt comfortable now to turn his back on Greyback as he turned to face the older men just as Black growled, “We told you not to change the words of the Oath!”

Salazar shot Black a look filled with disdain, a touch of the wolven magic from Greyback nearly bade him to pull back his lips in wolfish snarl of his own. “I kept my promise to not change the terms of the Oath Greyback swore,” Salazar stated firmly. “However, I took the initiative to accept Greyback’s Oath with what protection I can offer. If he swore such a firm bond to me, then it is only right for me to offer something in return. He is my vassal, but I will not have him treated like a slave.” Salazar pulled something from his pocket then and turned enough to hand a leather band to Greyback who nodded before he wordlessly slipped it around his wrist. Salazar tapped it with his wand before he then turned his attention to Lupin. “To offer you a modicum of comfort, that band is a tracker. It will let you know the location of Greyback at any time you wish to check. He cannot remove it on his own, and the Oath confines him to the grounds,” the dark haired wizard stated as he offered a matching band to Lupin. “Now. If you would excuse us.”

Greyback gave the two a small smirk as he followed Salazar out of the infirmary, but luckily did not try to speak with either of them. Salazar did not think that would go over well, though the two men were quick to stride off in the direction of what Salazar assumed would be the Headmaster’s office. They brushed past Greyback and Salazar without a word, though Black shot him a dark look. Salazar held himself back from a quick roll of his eyes as Greyback cleared his throat to say, “I don’t suppose you would allow me a quick run around the grounds, would you?”

The shorter man stopped to face Greyback, to be sure he had his full attention. “All of Hogwarts is beneath my protection,” Salazar said firmly. “Your oath prevents you from harming anyone on the grounds unless they pose a threat.” His expression softened. “Cleaned up like this, I doubt there are many who would actually recognize you. As it is, you are free to come and go as you please. I only ask that you refrain from approaching the children.” He offered a small smile. “As I told Lupin and Black, you are not a slave. You have been strictly bound, but I do not intend to restrict your freedom as long as you keep to your Oath. So, you are free to roam the castle and grounds as you please, but for a house elf that will be assigned to tail you when you are not in your room or with me.”

The werewolf’s expression morphed to one of genuine gratitude. “I believe it would be best if you call me Fen then, Herrick. I am indebted to you.”

Salazar inclined his head as he accepted Fenrir’s gratitude. “Fen, it is then. If you would continue to follow me, I had a room set up for you. I cannot permit you to leave the grounds just yet, but I can have a house elf fetch any belongings of yours.”

“The Dark Lord will likely have my place watched. I don’t have anything that can’t be replaced,” Greyback said with a shrug. “Whatever is precious to me, I have on me at all times.” Salazar nodded in understanding as he remembered the necklace that the werewolf had worn all this time.

As he came to a stop in front of a door, Salazar held out an iron key to Greyback. “The door will not be unlocked by any simple unlocking charm,” he told the wolf. “The only way to open the door is with that key and its duplicate that I carry. It is part of my offer of protection. Those rooms can be your haven and no one should be able to break into them.” He paused then and studied the werewolf for a brief moment. “If anyone gives you a hard time, let me know. I know you are used to seeing to your own protection, but you are my vassal. I will not take that lightly as long as you keep to your end of the oath.”

Fenrir gave a deep bow. “Of course, father of my name,” he said seriously with a twist of mischief about his lips. Salazar really did roll his eyes then. That again.

“Most mornings, I meet with Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy, and Einar to stretch out our bodies and spar. Einar and I teach the two younger men Glima,” Salazar said as he turned on his heel. “You are welcome to join us. I know Blaise would enjoy what you might be able to teach him.” The young man had already spent one full moon forced to change, still unable to get his transformation under control. He had spent the full moon in the Room of Requirement, specially transformed so Blaise had a safe place to run free as the Room stretched to its limits. Salazar had warded the door so it could not be opened from either side until the sun had risen.

“Professor Evans, sir. Yous has a letter, sir,” a squeaky voice interrupted Salazar as he made his way to his office. He looked down to see one of the castle’s elves there with Hilde's raven neatly settled on its head. Salazar suppressed a smile of amusement and held out his arm for the raven to perch instead. Once on his arm, Salazar gently stroked the silky feathers of the proud creature.

“Thank you. Could you bring him some water and something to eat? Have it sent to my office.” He gently rubbed beneath the raven’s beak. “I am sure it has been a long journey,” he said as the raven ruffled its feathers. Salazar untied the envelope from the raven’s leg as the house elf disappeared with a soft pop. With the letter safely in Salazar’s hand, the raven hopped up onto the wizard’s shoulder instead. With the bird settled, Salazar finished the route to his office. A perch was ready on his desk, water and food prepared for the raven. Immediately, the creature soared from his shoulder to land neatly on the perch.

As he settled into his chair, Salazar opened up the envelope and pulled out the folded letter inside. The envelope still had weight to it, so he gently tipped it over and dropped a wooden amulet onto his desk. He looked it over curiously before he turned to the letter.

“Herrick,

When I next see you, I shall lay you out on your back to prove myself with sword and shield. It is then that I shall forgive you for calling me a child. I know you did not truly mean insult or else I might have demanded far more for forgiveness. Is not beautiful Freyja the goddess of love, beauty, and war? And you said yourself that it is when we give into our fear and hide that we have lost. I may be youthful, but I am still a woman. I am a shieldmaiden!

As for your question, Winternights was wonderful. The days of feasting and revelry were a welcome distraction from everyday life and from the oncoming cold. I wish you could have shared the celebration with us. I hope you don’t mind that I told your tale of the giantess to some of the children. I do not think I have your knack for storytelling, the way you capture attention, but they all had a good laugh! All was told around a fire of course. We had a good harvest and so we slaughtered an extra pig this year for the feast. Sven could not hold his mead either and asked for my hand! There was much laughter and so much more to tell. A list might be better organized than whatever I have already said! Perhaps next year you might celebrate with us and I will not have to remember everything.

Be well, Herrick.

Hilde Eiriksdottir

Oh! As I am sure you have already found, I included a little amulet of Mjolnir. Small as it may be, I hope it might offer you some protection in your battles. May Thor protect you.

Also, the magnificent beast that delivered this letter is Troels. I do believe I forgot to tell you his name. Perhaps that for all his cleverness, it is good that Troels cannot read.”

The last few lines after her signature were hastily scrawled in and Salazar had to give a little smile as he picked up the carved amulet. He ran his fingers over the smooth curves as he mapped out each dip. It was thoughtful of Hilde. Salazar did not hesitate to slip the leather cord around his neck before he tucked the hammer beneath his tunic. The feel of the cool wood against his bare chest offered a sense of protection enough on its own.

Salazar reached out then and ran his fingers lightly over Troels’ head. “Your mistress is really quite something, my friend. Certainly a breath of fresh air.” And with it came the feeling of home. Whatever might happen, he had a place there in Fyrkat. He also had no doubt that he would see Hilde again. He hoped it would not be here on a battlefield, but instead on a return trip to Fyrkat. Whatever the circumstance, he could see her seeing her promise through. He remembered a sweet face and eyes filled with laughter, but they could have very well made her appear deceptively young. There was no proper way to ask her age either. Her father had been older than him, so it was possible that Hilde was not that much younger than he was at twenty-five years of age. Twenty-five… how little he had spent here as a Founder, but he had at least the privilege to see how their dream had blossomed.

Salazar set those thoughts aside and pulled out a length of parchment. As he readied his quill, he thought over what he might write. Finally, he dipped the quill into the ink and then set it to paper.

“Hilde,

You have my apologies for the insult. I had no intention of such a thing, but I do offer my regrets in that I have slighted you. Be as it may, I look forward to testing my skills against yours. And perhaps regaling you with another story as you seemed to have enjoyed my last one. In return, I hope you might offer a trade and tell me a story of your own. Rushed though it may be, I enjoyed hearing of your Winternights. Perhaps you might give better detail next time? Though, I would rather enjoy it myself just as you suggest.

And thank you for your gift, Hilde. Though the gesture was a small one, as you say, it means much to me. I wear it about my neck even now.

Take care, Hilde Eiriksdottir.

Herrick

Troels is certainly a magnificent creature, just as you say. Very proud. I wonder if you might be able to find a raven just as noble as he that you could send to me. The wizards here use owls for their post, but I would rather a raven. Better reminds me of home.”

Salazar sealed the letter into an envelope after he had dropped a bit of silver bullion into the envelope to pay for the raven. If it was a bit more than what a messenger raven was worth, well Hilde could keep what was left. He set the letter down on his desk and then reached out to pet Troels once more. “Rest well tonight, my friend. I will send you back to your mistress in the morning,” he promised.

As he settled back in his chair, Salazar had to wonder what had happened to the white owl that he could remember in flashes through memory. She had been a friend in his life before, but he had not seen her again. Perhaps he could ask the twins about her, see what had happened to her.

It was then that there was a knock at the door. Salazar glanced at his clock to gauge the time and frowned at how late it had become. But he could not say he was surprised when it was Luna that let herself inside. He could only imagine what sort of adventure she was about to send him on.

A knowing smile graced her lips as she floated over to stand in front of Salazar’s desk. Luna hopped to perch on the edge while she reached out to run dainty fingers over Troels’ head. “One who Hates. One who Mocks,” she whispered airily as if she imparted some great secret. Salazar felt his breath still in his chest as anticipation drummed through his veins. She spoke of the sons of Fenrir. “Bound once in Raithneach in muir unseen, they who chase the sun and moon now are free. But blood darkens brackish creek, as snow cloaked sentinels stand wordless far.”

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

A knowing smile graced her lips as she floated over to stand in front of Salazar’s desk. Luna hopped to perch on the edge while she reached out to run dainty fingers over Troels’ head. “One who Hates. One who Mocks,” she whispered airily as if she imparted some great secret. Salazar felt his breath still in his chest as anticipation drummed through his veins. She spoke of the sons of Fenrir. “Bound once in Raithneach in muir unseen, they who chase the sun and moon now are free. But blood darkens brackish creek, as snow cloaked sentinels stand wordless far.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Odalric,” Salazar spoke coldly when he spotted the ghost in the corridor. Salazar had a cloak wrapped around his shoulders, robes left behind. He was on his way to the Headmaster’s office when Salazar had spotted the ghost. Odalric froze as he fully donned the unnatural stillness of the dead. Salazar was nearly surprised that Odalric did not run like a coward, merely hovered close to the floor like a scared rabbit.

As Salazar approached the apparition, Odalric finally turned and stared at the wizard with wide eyes. “You know,” his ghostly whisper creaked like winter boughs. “Master Slytherin, I…”

Salazar cut off the ghost with a sharp motion of his hand. “I would have expected better of one of my House,” he said waspishly. “Helena told me what you had done to her. But, then, you had looked up to Cayden once. It should not surprise me of the level of your infatuation and cowardice. Did he poison your mind as well? Have you whispered poison in the ears of impressionable children? Say that those of mundane blood had no place here?” Salazar’s lip curled as he looked over the ghost of the man. “Or have you wallowed in your own inflicted guilt all these years so you have not even lifted a hand to say a kind word to those who might need it?”

Odalric said nothing, curled in on himself. Salazar’s lips turned down in a frown, disappointed in his once student. “Helena spoke to me, described the manner of both of your deaths. You have let your guilt shackle you, Odalric. Cast off those chains of yours and be the man I once taught you to become. I may not have been able to teach you long, but I gave you the foundations. Use those lessons to be the Slytherin I meant you to be. My snakelings are bullied simply because of their House and the mistakes of the past. You will speak up for them and protect them to your ability. If you do not, then you know as well as I do that I have the means to banish you from Hogwarts. And I do not take such a thing lightly.” Salazar turned on his heel. “I have a situation that I must attend to, so I will be speaking to you further on this later. Do not disappoint me, Odalric.”

The phantom never moved as Salazar disappeared down the corridor. Once out of sight, Salazar breathed out a sigh and shook his head. He hurried his steps then, as he had sent a paper messenger bird ahead of him. So when he entered the Headmaster’s office the man was already there in wait for him. The headmaster wore a lime green dressing gown and a grim frown where he sat behind his desk. “Professor Evans,” the old man greeted and stood up. “You mentioned an emergency?”

Salazar stopped and clasped his hands behind his back. “When Fenrir Greyback Oathed his fealty, I accepted with the promise of protection,” he started out. “Greyback already told us that the Dark Lord had forced his service with the captivity of his sons. The Seer who sent me upon the path to Helheim, has spoken to me once more. Greyback’s sons have escaped their custody and are now in danger. It is highly likely that they are injured as well. I would like to request that you have Madam Pomfrey prepare for our arrival. If you are not comfortable to have them in the school infirmary, she may have the run of the dungeon infirmary.” He had his potions at his disposal, but he had the feeling that they might need the help of a trained healer.

Dumbledore’s brow was furrowed as he sat back down at his desk. He grabbed a sheet of parchment then and picked up a quill. “Miss Lovegood’s words are certain?”

He should not be so surprised that Dumbledore knew the identity of the Seer, but it gave him a long pause before he gave a slight bow of his head. “Yes. I do not have an exact location, but I know they are in Rannoch Moor. If I take Greyback with me, then his bond with his sons will lead us to them.”

As Salazar spoke, Dumbledore raised his piercing gaze to meet Salazar’s eyes. “I will agree to it,” he said after a beat. “However, I will insist that you take both Remus and Sirius with you. I want someone I trust fully with you, but with the prospect of two injured werewolves it would be safest to have another werewolf there. Sirius’ own unique abilities will protect him.” As he spoke, he wrote out something on the parchment and then rolled it up. He offered it to Fawkes with an order to bring it to the two men. The bird disappeared in a flare of fire.

“Have them meet me down at the castle gates,” Salazar said tightly. He did not look forward to this rescue mission with the two men in tow, but he had to play by the Headmaster’s rules. “I want to leave as soon as possible. Every second counts.” When Dumbledore said nothing more, Salazar quickly turned and left the office.

Outside the castle doors, Fenrir waited for him as Salazar had sent him a paper bird as well. The werewolf’s lips were pressed into a white line and there was tension in his bearded jaw. “Dumbledore gave his permission?”

Salazar sighed and gave a quick nod. “Yes. However, he has ordered Black and Lupin to come along with us.”

“He does not trust either of us,” Fenrir said with a derisive snort, agitated.

He could understand Fenrir’s agitation. “No, he does not,” he said softly. “However, Luna has said that your sons will stand by my side. That means that they will survive. We will get to them in time.”

“Where are they?” Fenrir asked as he focused on his sons.

At the question, Salazar was quiet for a moment. “Luna said they had been held in Raithneach Muir. The English name would be Rannoch Moor. Somehow, they have freed themselves, but unfortunately Luna was not very forthcoming about the details.” He was reluctant to tell Fenrir that one or both of his sons were injured. Luckily he was saved from the choice as both Black and Lupin appeared.

“We were about to go off to bed, Evans,” Black grumbled in annoyance as he shot the pair a dirty look. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Salazar’s lips thinned as he clenched his jaw. “It was not my choice to summon you, but Dumbledore sought to send more than just Fenrir and I on such a mission.”

Lupin’s frown was equal parts confusion and anger, though his anger seemed to be directed mainly towards Fenrir. “And what mission is that? That you and Greyback would be summoned for it?”

Greyback gave a snarl and stepped forward, but Salazar immediately raised a hand and gave the wolf a look. “Be civil,” he reprimanded quietly. Greyback immediately stilled and took a step back again, his shoulders tight. Salazar looked at him from the corner of his eye as the brand around the wolf’s neck flared briefly before it disappeared once more. “It is one that I brought to the Headmaster’s attention. If we can get a move on, then I will tell you the details as we head down to the gates.”

It looked like Black was ready to dig his heels in and not move until he had the answers that they wanted, but Lupin sighed and placed a hand against the man’s arm. Black let out a rough sigh, but then nodded. “Fine. Let’s get a move on then,” he said. “But do not hold back any of the details.” Salazar had to hold back a roll of his eyes as he started off down the path at a brisk pace.

“Just before the beginning of the first war in 1970, Fenrir tried to defect from the Dark Lord,” Salazar began. He glanced at Lupin when the greying werewolf shot Fenrir a startled look.

“You tried to defect?” Lupin interrupted. “You bit me as a child, barely five years earlier!”

Fenrir turned his silver eyes on Lupin, his face lined. “I was young, barely a man myself,” he stated quietly. Salazar could barely hear his response. “Your father decried all werewolves as soulless, evil, and deserving of nothing but death. I found that I could not control my temper and wanted to punish him. I will admit that the Dark Lord’s poisonous voice was in my ear and he goaded me on. It was as he exposed himself as a terrorist that I finally came to my senses. He had promised us equality but I finally saw through his lies.”

Lupin looked like he could not decide if Fenrir told the truth or not. “What made you go back, then? If you really tried to defect, why did you spend some thirty years under his thumb? Even while the man had been thought to be defeated?”

“He had my sons,” Fenrir responded. With the bewildered silence that followed, Salazar realized that the Headmaster had never passed on that knowledge to the rest of his Order. “He stole them away still in their birthing blood and killed my mate to get to them. I would do anything for my boys. Surely you can understand what we would do for our children? I hunted for them endlessly, but they had been hidden too well. I had no choice but to dance to the Dark Lord’s tune. Even after he had been defeated the first time, I could not drop my guard. My sons were still hidden from me and could still be killed on standing orders.”

A look of realization passed over Lupin’s face, Black’s stony as he processed the new information. “That is what we are doing now. We’re rescuing your sons.”

Fenrir gave a stiff nod, his eyes now on the gate’s rapid approach. “They have escaped on their own, but I finally know where they are. I must go to them.”

“How? How do you know where they are and it’s not just one of Riddle’s tricks?” Black pressed now, his expression tense. They were a small party and would be quickly overwhelmed if ambushed.

Salazar spoke up then as Fenrir glanced at him. “There is a Seer. Of whom the Headmaster is aware, so he can verify my words if you were to press him later,” he paused then as they passed through the gates. “They have escaped into Raithneach Muir, or Rannoch Moor in the Scottish Highlands.”

Black turned on his heel to face Salazar, his brow furrowed. “A moor is a large area to search. Especially at this time of night.”

A feral grin swept across Fenrir’s face, the light of the waxing moon splashed across his face. “Once near to them, and no longer behind the magics that blocked them from my senses, I can follow them.” He held out his hand then. “Do either of you know where the muir is? I can apparate one of you otherwise.” Black’s lips parted in a snarl, but he was caught. With a growl that was surprisingly more beast than human, he gripped Fenrir’s forearm and they disappeared with a crack.

Salazar sighed and held out his hand to Lupin. “I can take you there, if the aid is needed.” Lupin only shook his head, so both disappeared with cracks of displaced air.

When they both appeared near by a bubbling stream of water, Fenrir barely spared them a glance before he smoothly transitioned from a man into a great beast of a wolf. Beside Salazar, Lupin startled back. “How? The moon…!”

Salazar smiled as he watched Fenrir sniff at the air, as the light breeze of a coming winter rippled through the white fur of the werewolf’s coat. As large as a direwolf, Fenrir’s head came level to Salazar’s chest even while lowered. It would surely reach the height of his shoulder if the werewolf was to lift his head. If nothing else, his stature was truly magnificent. “Listen to your instincts, the part of your soul that is your wolf,” is all that Salazar could say before Fenrir suddenly took off.

With a soft curse beneath his breath, Salazar darted after him. Black and Lupin were both quickly on his heels, though Black was suddenly shifting into a large shaggy dog. Snuffles, Salazar wanted to whisper but was mindful of the man who ran next to him. “He is an animagus,” he observed instead to Lupin as they ran. The werewolf gave a nod to Salazar in return, but said nothing.

As they ran after the two canines, Salazar watched Black for a time. “I trained under the animagus process,” he said to Lupin. “Even so far as to reach the final stage and gain my form. I could still do it, if required, but I am not practiced in it. Not so far as Black is, at any rate. It would not benefit me to take my form in a hurry and I still require my wand to make it through the transformation.”

“What form do you take?” Lupin asked curiously as they followed the creek. Snow capped mountains in the distance stood like silent sentinels.

Salazar smiled a bit as he watched forward along the path. “One might think a snake,” he stated slyly. Godric had certainly claimed that was what he would become. Salazar had never shared the truth with the man, though had taken great pleasure in letting Godric know he had been wrong.

A loud howl suddenly pierced the cold stillness of the moor. Salazar immediately drew his wand and spun on his heel to disapparate. He appeared with a soft crack a small distance from Fenrir. Lupin followed his lead and was close behind. Just a short distance away, Salazar could make out the prone figures of two men sprawled out in the snow dusted heather. A group of dark cloaked figures descended upon them, though two had turned at Fenrir’s howl. The white furred wolf had already lunged forward.

Fenrir ducked beneath the screaming electric blue spell that fizzled hotly towards him, maw open and latched onto the throat of one of the attackers moments later. The nameless man went down with a strangled scream. Salazar used the confusion to bring down another of the attackers with a sharp twist of his wand.

Black had turned back to a man, wand in hand as he dueled two robed wizards at once. Lupin had crouched down to check on the prone twins near the creak. With them safe for now, Salazar turned his attention to the rest of the cloaked wizards. He raised his wand sharply and engaged two wizards at once as well. Fenrir had regained his form as a man as well, though he had a hand physically around the throat of one of the opposing wizards.

A sickly green curse shot towards Fenrir’s back, a flash out of the corner of his eye. Salazar turned on his heel and flicked his wand up as he hissed, “Àrdachadh Talmhainn!” A wall of dark earth rose up with a thunderous boom as the curse exploded against the hardened dirt. Particles of dirt rained down over them, little pebbles impacted against the shield Salazar had raised around him.

“Confringo!” The flame red hex flew towards him with a crackle, though Salazar flicked it down towards the ground. The fiery explosion wrapped around him as flames licked at the silvery shield that protected him. He did not allow the dirt to settle as he shot his hand forward.

“Dorcha Dall,” Salazar intoned. The hex that shot forward seemed to be absorbed into the night, dark and unseen. It hit his opponent as the wizard gave a surprised cry and actually dropped his wand as he clawed at his eyes, his sight suddenly stolen. While the man fumbled around, Salazar quickly followed up with a spell to knock him out completely and bind him.

“Bastard! Exentero !” The sickly yellow disembowelment curse whined like a flare, but Salazar knocked it away and returned it back towards its sender. The man had to dive out of the way with a curse, straight into the path of a lightning hex. The unfortunate victim screamed as his body contorted beyond his control. Salazar did not let the curse continue unnecessarily as he quickly ended it and binded the wizard with another flash thrown spell.

That was all of the men. Fenrir had gone to the side of his sons, so Salazar went as well. He sent off Lupin to gather up the cloaked wizards as he removed the potion pouch from his belt. He looked over the two unconscious men with a critical eye and then pressed a bottle into Fenrir’s hand. “Give this to Skoll,” he instructed. “It will replenish lost blood enough to get him back to Hogwarts and Pomfrey’s care.” He assumed that the man with black hair was the one named Skoll while the one with white hair like his father was named Hati. They were definitely aptly named. He was right in his assumptions.

As Fenrir got his son to drink the potion, Salazar focused on the other man. Hati was not as injured as his brother, but he was still injured and unconscious. He was able to get a potion down the man’s throat and then he looked up to the other two that had tagged along with them. “We need to get them to Pomfrey. Can you take care of the rest?” As soon as he got acknowledgement from Black and Lupin, Salazar used a spell to conjure a stretcher to stabilize Hati. He conjured one for Skoll so Fenrir could stabilize his other son. Once Salazar was sure that Hati was secure, he shared a look with Fenrir before they both apparated away.

When they arrived at the gates, Salazar levitated the stretcher that Hati was on and sent off a paper messenger bird to the Headmaster to let him know they had returned. With Fenrir behind him with Skoll’s stretcher, the two strode quickly towards the castle. When they reached the doors, Dumbledore was there to meet them and let him know that Pomfrey waited in the dungeon infirmary for them. At least she was there to help.

“Fen,” Salazar said sternly as they took quick strides towards the dungeons. “Once we get there, you need to stand back and let Madam Pomfrey work. You need to stay back. Trust her to help them and trust Luna’s prophecies. Your sons will be fine. They will survive.” Fenrir did not respond, but he gave a sharp nod to show that he had heard.

Once they arrived at the infirmary, Salazar levitated the stretcher onto one of the exam tables. Fenrir levitated the other stretcher onto the other. He then took a step away and folded his arms across his chest to keep himself held back. Pomfrey was a flurry of activity, though Salazar stood back to let her do her magic. He held out potions to her when requested, but the room was small enough that Salazar did not want to get in her way. She seemed to be in her element anyhow.

Once the two men were stabilized, Pomfrey moved them into a cell together. Fenrir had not been happy about this, but Salazar managed to calm the irate werewolf down. It had been under Dumbledore’s orders, so there was not much that could be done. He told Fenrir to keep his sons company, practically made it into an order. Pomfrey had already disappeared.

“I need to update the Headmaster with the situation,” Salazar told Fenrir. “Skoll and Hati will likely sleep awhile longer. I will come check in on you later, bring food.” He did not even try to tell Fenrir to try to get some sleep as the man’s silver eyes had never once been dragged away from either of the two unconscious men. “If anything changes before then, just call for a house elf and have them fetch me.” Fenrir barely gave a nod, so Salazar lingered a moment before he left. He paused long enough to clear the blood from his person before he left for Dumbledore’s office. Black and Lupin were already there.

“Our two newest residents have been attended to?” Dumbledore asked lightly from where he sat behind his desk. The elderly man had changed out of his dressing gown and was in a set of his normal robes with comets that shot over the dark amethyst fabric.

Salazar dropped himself into a seat after he had removed his cloak. He gave a soft sigh and nodded in agreement. “Madam Pomfrey did a wonderful job in patching them up and have been settled into their cell per your orders.” He could understand the order, though he was not entirely happy about it. “They are both resting more naturally now and their wounds are healing quickly.”

“What do we do now?” Black said harshly, bags beneath his eyes. Salazar could understand his exhaustion. He, too, was exhausted from the night. It was already into the very late hours, nearly early morning. Unfortunately, an early monday morning. He figured he might get Blaise to fully cover his classes at least for the morning so he could get some sleep. He would have to remember to send off a message to him anyways that he would not be able to make their morning workout session.

He breathed out before he shook the thoughts away. “I would suggest the same Oath that Fenrir swore,” he suggested. “They should have the opportunity to know their father. Fenrir deserves the opportunity to know his sons.” He glanced at both Lupin and Black, but then turned his attention on Dumbledore. “However, I do recognize that they are unknown entities. Complete unknowns. The Oath will allow the same securities that you have with Fenrir’s Oath to me.” And, in return, he could offer them protection.

“Starting to build up your follower base? Planning to become a Dark Lord as well?” Black interrupted snidely. Salazar pressed his lips tightly together as he looked over to the man.

“Black. Why are we still on this?” Some deep part of him that was still Harry Potter, that remembered his godfather even if he had only known him a year, ached. “What have I done to make you hate me?” Part of him wanted to come clean, to tell Black who he had used to be. But it scared him, how Black might respond. He certainly would not say it in front of Dumbledore at any rate. “Have I not done enough to at least have you trust that I do not have some nefarious agenda? You do not have to like me.” He wanted Black to like him. 

Before Black had a chance to answer, there was a knock on the door. Salazar glanced at Dumbledore, but the man looked honestly puzzled. When the door opened to reveal Luna, Salazar breathed out a soft sigh. What was he about to get into now? One never knew how a conversation with Luna was going to go. It would either be helpful or he was about to have one of his secrets exposed. He knew which one he preferred.

“Miss Lovegood?” Lupin’s voice was confused as they all watched the young woman lightly step over to Salazar’s chair. She then settled down on the arm and smiled one of her starry smiles.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers as he leaned forward against his desk. “What can I help you with, Miss Lovegood?”

Luna leaned against Salazar and rested her head against his while she remained silent. “Headmaster,” Black started, but Dumbledore held up his hand to quiet him.

“Miss Lovegood is a True Seer. Unlike Sybill Trelawney, she is always aware of the threads of possibilities around her,” the Headmaster said as he kept his eyes on Luna.

“The Web of the Wyrd,” Luna whispered with a tinkling laugh that reminded Salazar of bells. She was putting on more airs than usual, he noted. When she shifted, he looked up to see her knowing smile. Web of the Wyrd indeed. It was more than just the Sight of what had been, was, and could be. Luna laughed again into his ear, as if she knew what his thoughts were.

“Answers are closer than you think, Sirius Black,” she said airily as she brushed her fingers against Salazar’s hair. “They will come in time.”

“Answers about what?” The man snapped back, but Luna did not answer him.

Instead, the blonde woman focused back on the Headmaster. “Hati and Skoll will be freed by Herrick’s hand and stand by his side. In the coming battles, they are indispensable.”

Salazar frowned a bit. “I did not free them. They freed themselves from their captivity.”

There was a soft laugh from Luna and she tilted her head. “Are they free now or are they in another cage?” Salazar let out a heavy sigh that earned him another bubbling laugh. Luna patted his shoulder and looked back up at Dumbledore. “Fenrir’s sons will swear an Oath to Herrick.” She gently squeezed Salazar’s shoulder then. “Blaise Zabini and I will take over the bulk of Herrick’s classes.” Salazar did not stop his groan.

“What ventures are you about to send me on now, woman?” He tried to keep the complaint out of his voice, but he must not have been entirely successful as he heard Lupin snort next to him and Dumbledore’s lips curved up into a small smile.

“The fiery twins will soon bring you the fruits of their search, of which will occupy the most of your time,” Luna said cryptically before she gave a soft laugh. “Even you need sleep, dear Herrick, of which you would have none if you kept the way you have. You are here if we need your guidance, but your syllabus will lead the way for us.”

Salazar tried not to sigh as he turned his eyes on Dumbledore. “The Seer has spoken,” he said wryly. “Yet, she is right. I always wanted to protect my students, to raise my House to what it should have been before wizards like Riddle ruined it. I never wanted to join the war but for what I could do to protect them,” he told Dumbledore honestly. “However, that choice has been taken away from me.” The Prophecy. He had yet to really mull on its meaning. He wanted to debate it, but that would mean he would need to go to someone who knew who he had been or to tell that secret. “When I took an active position in this war, it took me away from my students. I can not give them the focus that they deserve. I will continue to act as their Head of House, but I need to take a step back from classes.” He would continue his Wednesday study sessions with his Slytherins as he thought they had really seemed to make a difference.

The Headmaster gave a soft sigh as he leaned back in his chair. He looked every bit of his years at that moment. “It is certainly unconventional,” he stated as he looked from Salazar to Luna. “However, so is the opening of Hogwarts to refugees. As long as the students do not fall behind in their studies, then I can allow it.” Not that he had much choice if Luna had made the choice for them. “We do what we must to bring an end to this war.”

Salazar could only give a nod. He looked over to Lupin and Black then. “What has been done with the wizards we apprehended? They were Deatheaters, were they not?” Azkaban was the only large scale wizard prison in the British Isles that he was aware of, however it was under the Dark Lord’s control. If there was a prison within the Ministry, the Ministry too was controlled by the Dark Lord.

Black was the one to answer, something that surprised him. “We have a temporary prison in Wales. One of the Order owns a run down estate that has long been held in their family. Early on, after Riddle broke out his followers from Azkaban the first time, they offered it to be converted into a prison to hold deatheater prisoners. It is supposed to be temporary until the war is over and we have control back over the Ministry,” he explained in a flat voice, though there was something challenging in his eyes. What did Black expect him to say? That their prisoners should be killed instead? As long as the Dark Lord did not know where prisoners of war were kept, and they could not escape on their own, it was fine. He did not want to kill unnecessarily.

“They are secure?” He asked instead as he looked over to Dumbledore. The elderly headmaster nodded in agreement.

“Then that is that,” Salazar said easily. He breathed out a soft sigh then. “I will have Fenrir’s sons swear the same Oath as their father. They will likely sleep for a time yet, but I will keep you updated with their condition and when they wake. If that is agreeable to you, Headmaster.”

Dumbldore’s eyes flickered to Luna briefly, who met his gaze with a smile of her own. The old wizard chuckled softly under his breath before he shook his head. “I do not have to tell you, Professor Evans, but I expect you to keep them under control. They are not allowed the run of the school and must not cause any problems. Especially with the children.”

Salazar wanted to give the man a deadpan look, but only nodded instead. “Of course, Headmaster.” Who did Dumbledore take him for?

Luna stood then and took Salazar’s hand. “Go get some sleep, dear Herrick. I will speak with Blaise and we shall cover your classes from now on.” She pulled him from the chair he had been seated in. Salazar did not have the energy to fight her as she led him off towards the door. He gave the Headmaster a quick goodbye and did not miss the amused smile that ghosted the Headmaster’s lips.

Once they were alone in the corridor, Luna twirled on her toes as her hair fanned about her like a blonde veil. “You shall rest soon,” she told him as she clasped her hands behind her back and took a step back. She walked like this and Salazar chose to follow, curious about what game the woman played. Once in the quiet and safety of his office, she regarded him with a playful smile and serious eyes. “Loki,” she greeted him and Salazar reared back a step.

“Why do you continue this?” He finally demanded. “You have likened me to Loki before and used it to build a bond from Fenrir to me. No more games! Why liken me to Loki? He is chaos, a trickster.” He was not evil, not a demon like entity. Salazar knew this and even venerated Loki himself. The magical community in particular had been far more open to such a complicated deity, though mundane worshippers had treated him with caution in the past. Some even with scorn. And that sat uncomfortably close to home for Salazar.

Luna was quiet, her expression not surprised. She stepped up to him then and reached out to place her hands against his cheeks. She was silent for a long moment and looked into his eyes. “Just like any other man, Loki is built of contradictions and shades of grey. Loki is not good. Loki is not evil. He helps and he causes trouble. He is fire. He is shapeshifter. As are you, my dear Herrick. Salazar Slytherin. Harry Potter. Loki.” She gave him a small smile as sadness trickled into her eyes. “You bring fire, violent change. You shift between persons.” Her delicate fingers brushed against his cheeks and his bearded jaw. “The people are fickle. You are loved. You are hated. You must be worshipped. You must be punished.” She gently pulled his head down and leaned up to press a kiss against his forehead. “My lord of chaos, of dark and magick. You are not alone. You are never alone, Salazar Slytherin.”

She released him then and Salazar gave a weary sigh. “So you say,” he murmured as he passed a hand over his face. “What did you need, völva?”

A laugh passed from her lips then and she picked up the letter he had written for Hilde the night before. “Nothing at all, Salazar,” she said sweetly as she offered her arm to Troels. “Sleep well.” She left like a whirlwind, letter in hand and raven on her shoulder.

Without the mental energy to try to untangle what had just happened, Salazar barely had the presence of mind to strip down to his trousers and then he collapsed into bed. In those early hours, he dreamed of Hippogriffs and hedge mazes.

In the day's break that was lunch, Luna came to wake him. She settled a tray of food against the end of the bed and ran her fingers through his dark hair as he opened sleep blurred eyes to watch her. He had woken when she had opened the doors. “Draco is wanting to speak with you,” she told him gently. “Eat something and dress. I will tell him that you will be with him in a moment.” She ignored his sleepy glare and exited the room once more.

With a sigh, Salazar sat up and grabbed the sandwich that Luna had brought him. He studied the curious food before he took a bite of it. Adequate, he supposed. After he had finished it, he swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his wand. A quick spell freshened his body, though it left his skin with the feeling of dryness. It would have to do for now. He did not want to make Draco wait too long for him.

Once he had dressed and braided back his long hair in a simple plait, Salazar exited his bedroom to find Luna perched on his desk as she regaled Draco with a story of Dabberblimps. Salazar fought back his amusement as he shut his bedroom door behind him and reset the wards that protected it. “I do hate to interrupt such a fascinating story, but you had wished to see me, Draco?”

The look that the Malfoy shot him was pure relief. Salazar allowed himself a smile as he shooed Luna off of his desk. “I had an idea where we might find the Ravenclaw Diadem,” he told Salazar, which immediately piqued the dark haired wizard’s interest. “If you would follow me, though, I think it would be better to show you.” Salazar agreed as Luna disappeared off on her own.

As they walked, Salazar kept the conversation light. He had started to remember Draco in childhood. It was almost startling how different the young man was now to the arrogant and snobby child that had gone to school with Harry Potter. A lot could happen in the five years that had passed for Draco. Now, there was a quiet sort of elegance to the young man and steel in his blue grey eyes. War had forced him to grow up, but he had grown up well.

When they had come to stand in front of the Room of Requirement, a mere empty space of wall as no one was inside, Salazar looked over to Draco with a question in his eyes. The pale haired man only smiled and then started to pace in front of the wall. One could usually just convey their wish silently to the Room in one of the mechanisms for its appearance, but this time Draco spoke his wish out loud. “I need the Room of Hidden Things,” the man repeated until the door finally appeared.

When the door opened with barely a sound, Salazar almost let his mouth drop open in surprise. “What is this?” He breathed out. It was a large hall with great sweeping arches, stretched to the limits of the Rooms magic. It seemed endless and it was completely packed with teetering piles of absolute junk. He could see broken furniture, see ancient potions well past their expiration and yet still glowed ominously. There were books that were stained and had fallen apart. Enchanted objects with failing charms brought some life to the stillness of the room, but it all seemed to loom perilously over him.

“I found it in my fifth year,” Draco said solemnly from next to him as he shut the door quietly. “I had been tasked by the Dark Lord to kill Dumbledore. When I failed, my parents were killed.” There was not an ounce of emotion in his voice, though Salazar could almost sense the pain behind the cold eyes of the young man. He blinked and it was gone as Draco slowly approached a vaulted cabinet with iron filigree. “I was to repair this Vanishing Cabinet, the twin to one that had been once housed in a shop in Knockturn Alley. The magic is gone from this object now, but all for the best as it would have been able to bypass the failing wards before they were fixed.”

Salazar was quiet as Draco heaved out a sigh and touched the cabinet. His hand curled into a fist before he let it fall back down at his side and turned to face Salazar. “But this is not what I wished to show you. The Room of Requirement appears to those who have a strong wish or know its secrets. However the Room of Hidden Things, as some like to call it, has long been a dumping ground for things that students or staff wished to hide. Or just plain throw away.” He eyed the articulated skeleton of a dragon that hung from the ceiling. “Nearly a thousand years of junk. It would be the perfect place to hide a horcrux.”

He could almost despair as he looked over the mountains of piles. There were a great many objects that gave off suspicious auras. “I think you are right,” Salazar could only breathe out as he slowly turned on his heel. “I will try to help you search when I have the time, but I am afraid that you may be left to this task on your own for now. Once Fred and George return, I will see if they might assist you as well.”

Draco frowned, but gave a nod in acceptance. “I have the feeling that it may be somewhat in the open. At the very least not at the bottom of one of the piles. The Dark Lord would be arrogant enough to believe that no one would find it here, but I believe that he might not have intended to keep the Diadem here permanently. Helena mentioned she felt that the Diadem return to Hogwarts, but that it never left again. The Dark Lord as well has not been on the grounds since. He would have left the Diadem somewhere he would be able to find again.”

Salazar nodded his agreement as he approached one of the piles where a small harp hung from the handle of a broken broomstick. The harp’s strings vibrated as if it played a song, but there was no sound. He shook his head and moved on. “Did your parents force you to join the Dark Lord?” He asked as he carefully searched one of the piles of clutter.

Draco was quiet and did not respond for a long time. Salazar glanced over to the man to see his stillness as he stood before another pile. “My parents raised me to believe that muggles were below us, that muggleborns should not be allowed at Hogwarts. They were very cold to me when I was growing up, my father especially. I knew my mother loved me, but she had to live up to pureblood expectations.” He sighed then as he finally moved. “But I spent my childhood trying to live up to my father’s expectations. I idolized him, tried to model myself after him. The good and the bad.” He used his wand to prod at a ballerina doll that danced in jerky movements.

“I do not know if I ever really believed that wizards are better than muggles or muggleborns,” he said next, his words quiet. “Or if I just parroted what I had been told all my life.” He sighed as his hand tightened around his wand. “When the Dark Lord returned at the end of my fourth year, no one seemed to believe it. Potter too had disappeared during the summer after. My parents hosted the Dark Lord at our manor and it was… terrifying. I was met with the man from the stories my father had told me while a child. He had built the Dark Lord up into this scion for the good of the wizarding world, to return it to glory. But I saw my proud, proud father reduced to a shell of a man as he bent over backwards to play to the whims of a mercurial madman.”

Draco was quiet for another moment as he opened up the broken doors of a cabinet, filled with crumbling books. Finally, he breathed out softly. “I was brought before the Dark Lord. He decided not to mark me at first, but told me he wanted to make a grand re-entrance to the wizarding world. What better way to do that than to overtake Hogwarts? To kill the Headmaster? So I was tasked with finding a way past the wards and into the school that would give the deatheaters an element of surprise.”

Salazar made his way closer to the younger man. Draco did not seem to notice as he continued. “I could not do it. Part of me did not want to do it. So, I went to the Headmaster at the end of the year. I knew that the Dark Lord would not be happy that I failed.” His expression darkened. “But Dumbledore said that he could not allow me to stay in the school. I would need to go back home, that it would be safer for me to return home than to run from the fury of the Dark Lord. He gave me a portkey in the event of an emergency, but I was returned home and straight into the arms of a livid Dark Lord.”

While he listened to Draco talk, Salazar had to wonder if the young man had been able to tell this to anyone before. “I had to watch my parents be killed because I had failed in my task. Just barely sixteen and I became an orphan. The Dark Lord marked me and ordered me not to fail again, though he graciously allowed me to finish my education before I was forced to participate in raids. I was expected to donate my entire fortune to the Dark Lord’s cause.”

Draco finally looked up as surprise flitted through his eyes to see Salazar so close. He took a deep breath. “I wanted out,” he told Salazar. “Potter was gone. The Dark Lord’s raids had started to leak into the muggle world while the Ministry scrambled for damage control. It seemed hopeless. I wanted a way out.” He looked away then. “Then Professor Snape was exposed as a spy. He barely survived Nagini’s bite. Without a spy in the Dark Lord’s ranks, I knew that there really would be no hope of his defeat. So I went to Dumbledore and offered my services.”

Finally, the blonde gave a wry smile. “So, to answer your question, yes. My parents forced me into service of the Dark Lord. Now, I remain in my position so I might have revenge for them. They are just as much victims as I am, raised by their own parents who were the first followers of the Dark Lord. I want to see the Dark Lord dead once and for all.”

Salazar reached out quietly and took Draco’s left arm. The blonde flinched, but allowed him to turn his arm over and expose his forearm. Salazar studied the Dark Mark closely for a moment before he raised his eyes to Draco. “Survive the war,” he ordered. “If you survive the war, then I will offer my protection.” He released Draco’s arm.

There was silence between them before Draco finally cracked a smile, a fragile thing. “You sure you are not building an army of your own? You would make a fine leader that I would be proud to follow.”

With a snort, Salazar stepped away and went back to the piles of rubbish. “I never wanted to be a leader,” he told Draco. “But circumstances are what they are. If I need to lead an army against the Dark Lord, then I will do it on my own terms.”

Draco only chuckled in amusement as he turned back to the piles as well. They kept conversation light after that as Draco told him some of the good times of his childhood. They searched far into the afternoon before they decided to call it quits. Draco was still optimistic about the location, but they had not yet found the Diadem.

They parted ways from there as Draco wanted to get some rest. He expected to be called on that night and wanted some sleep before he had to put on an act. Salazar wondered if there was something that he could do to help. It was something he pondered on as he walked down to his office. The children were still in classes, so the corridors were quiet even at this time of the day. When he reached his office, he absently pulled on the cord around his neck. As he felt the weight of the amulet, he touched its smooth planes before he paused. As he held the amulet in his palm, he breathed in sharply. “That’s it.” He wrapped his hand around the hammer and then made his way over to his desk.

As he dropped down into the chair, Salazar opened up a drawer to pull out a box where he kept his rune kit. It had an assortment of knives and wood samples as he often used it to make staves, but it would work well now to create an amulet. So he selected a piece of oak and one of his knives. They had been specially crafted and enchanted to have sharp blades to allow him to carve the wood easily, but he took his time while he kept it a simple design with lots of straight lines. 

Once he was pleased with the result, he selected another smaller blade to carefully carve runic protections into the wood. It would offer a bare level of protection, but it was better than nothing. Hopefully it would give Draco some sense of safety, at the very least. He would need to thank Hilde for the idea in his next letter.

As he set the blade aside, Salazar held the amulet delicately in his hand and gathered up a bit of magic. Once he had drawn enough magic, he breathed out over the amulet in his palm. The runes he had carved glowed red like fire before they faded away to appear now like they had been burned into the wood. Pleased with the result, Salazar pulled out his wand. He could use a portkey spell, but those were easily traced. So instead, he reached down into the magic inside of his core. It would anchor the spell to him, but would remain dormant until it was needed.

As he placed the tip of his wand against the amulet, he focused on the magic. “If mortal harm be near, a place of safety be required. If the magic is needed, then safety be found here,” he commanded. It would remain dormant until Draco’s life was threatened, then the magic would bring Draco straight to him where he would hopefully be able to help the younger man.

As he set the amulet aside to put his kit away, there was a knock on his door then. It opened to reveal Luna along with Blaise. He invited them in as he put the kit back into its drawer. He could find a cord for the amulet later and then deliver it to Draco. “Classes are over for the day?” He said as he looked up at the two. Luna had perched herself on a stool as Blaise dropped down into a chair.

“Of course. Now, I heard from a certain little blonde bird that she volunteered us to take over your classes?” Blaise responded once he was settled in his chair.

Salazar smiled in amusement when Luna blinked her eyes innocently. “According to a certain völva, I do not have the time to focus on classes alongside everything else that I have to do. As much as it pains me, I do realize that I have not been able to put my students first. So, here we are. I will still be around to help how I can, but I do appreciate your assistance.”

“I appreciate that you are willing to give me a job, being a werewolf and all,” Blaise said with an innocent look. Salazar frowned a bit, but Blaise gave a shrug. “I am lucky that none of the students realize yet that I am a werewolf anyways. But, I suppose, it helps that I have not poisoned myself with wolfsbane. And I do not have a bitter rival to reveal my secrets.” Salazar furrowed his brow in confusion at how specific the comment was, but his memory had not returned enough yet to make sense of it.

Blaise smirked at him before he breathed out a soft sigh and relaxed. “I do not mind taking over the lessons, especially with Luna’s help. But how did last night go? What are Greyback’s sons like? Luna mentioned where you had gone.”

As he settled back in his own seat, Salazar shook his head. “They were badly injured and already unconscious by the time that we found them. We had to fight off a crew of Deatheaters, but they were successfully taken out of commission,” he told the dark skinned wizard simply. “Hati and Skoll have yet to wake, but I imagine that they will soon.”

“I look forward to meeting them,” Blaise said softly. “Even if I do not form a pack with them, it would be nice to have more wolves around me. I want to truly understand what it means to be a werewolf.”

Salazar nodded in agreement. He thought it would be good for Blaise. “How are you doing with your magic?” He asked then, curious to what progress Blaise had managed.

The younger man shook his head with a frown. “Large scale spells are still out of reach, but I have had some success with simpler ones. It often feels like trying to catch water in my hands. I can draw up the magic, but it drains quickly away before I can direct it where I want. The cycle of the moon especially messes with my control.”

“It will come to you in time,” Salazar promised. “Do not force it. But if it is any consolation, Einar thinks you are ready to move on to weapons.”

Blaise’s eyes immediately brightened and he leaned forward. “Truly? I look forward to it,” he said with a grin that showed off his sharpened canines. Salazar smiled at Blaise’s reaction as he looked forward to it as well. While Glima on its own provided a good workout, the additional weight of a sword and a shield would help to build better muscle and build better stamina.

There was a soft pop then as a house elf appeared. “Sir, Professor Evans, sir? Mister Greyback sir is wanting yous to know that his boys are awake, sir,” the house elf stuttered, its luminous eyes on the wizard.

Salazar gave the creature a soft smile and nodded. “Thank you for bringing the message to me,” he said as he stood. “You are free to go back to your duties as I will go to him at once.” The tiny creature bowed low and disappeared. Salazar picked up the amulet he had created and held it out to Blaise. “Will you do me a favour? Will you take this to Draco? Tell him that it is a protective amulet and he should wear it at all times. Especially when he is called to the Dark Lord’s side.” Blaise looked at it curiously, but nodded and stood up as well. He left after a quick goodbye.

When he turned to Luna, she gave him a smile and hopped off of her stool. “I shall go with you,” she told him without prompt and turned on her heel for the door. Salazar could only follow.

Near the infirmary cell, Greyback waited for them with dark circles beneath his eyes. Salazar immediately tucked a Pepperup into the wolf’s hand with a stern order to drink it. The wizard then turned his attention to the two men inside of the cell. They had seated themselves on their beds and mercury eyes watched his every move. In the silence, Salazar took the moment to study the twins as they did the same to him in turn.

One of the twins was a near splitting image of his father, long white hair left loose and white beard closely shaved. He had the same moonlit eyes as his father, though the shape of them had been inherited from his mother. “I am Hati,” he suddenly greeted in a rasp as he pulled himself to his feet to approach the doors. “You are Loki.”

Salazar fought hard to not roll his eyes in response. “That is one of the names that has been bestowed upon me,” he said with just a touch of exasperation. “Well met, Hati.”

He turned his attention then to Hati’s twin. The two men were nearly identical in form, though Skoll had hair as dark as midnight. Salazar assumed he had inherited his colouring from his mother. “You must be Skoll. Well met,” he greeted the other as he stood as well and went to stand next to his brother. Both had inherited their father’s build. They stood tall, even above Salazar’s own height. Broad in shoulder, they made for impressive figures.

“Grandfather of spirit,” Skoll rumbled in greeting, a mischievous lilt to his smile. Salazar could not hold back a sigh that sent the twin wolves into a fit of barking laughter. They would get on well with another set of twins Salazar knew far too well.

“Please, just call me Herrick,” Salazar said once the two had contained their mirth. He shook his head then and then conjured himself a seat. “If you do not mind answering a few questions, I can then fill you in on anything that your father may not have mentioned yet.” When he got agreement from the two, Salazar leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “How did you escape?”

The twins exchanged a look before it was Hati that replied. “Werewolf children do not have their first transformation until they reach at least five years. They retain all of the wolf instincts, but an actual transformation does not happen until the wolf’s body is stable enough to handle it. Our upbringing was… unconventional. Even at a young age, we knew to hide what we could from our captors. It was the first lesson we learned. These were not parents or anyone who loved us. So when the draw of the moon insisted we change, and our captors locked us in silver cages on those nights, it was not hard to realize that they thought we could only change on full moons. We did not disavow them of such notions.”

Hati went silent and Skoll took over the tale as he leaned against the door. Though they were quick to heal, both men looked as exhausted as their father. “We laid in wait. We had our minders as we grew, but after we reached a certain age they became jailers and there was a rotation of them. Last night, they slipped up. We were always prepared, so when they left the wards open too long we sprung upon the chance and fled.” He frowned then and shared a look with his brother. “Unfortunately, they caught up with us. We thought we were done for, but then we woke up here.”

Luna stepped forward to the bars and reached through to place her hands against their broad chests. Perplexed, they allowed her. “One who mocks as he who chases the moon,” she whispered to Skoll. To Hati, she whispered, “One who hates as he who chases the sun.” She gave them both a smile that was as mysterious as the threads she Saw. “Sons of Fenrir. Family in spirit to our Loki. You shall be his Generals, the extensions of his hand. To Herrick you shall vow and shall hold his council.” She pulled her hands back to place against their cheeks instead. “Shackled like Fenrir, now you are free.” She gave them bright smiles before her expression sobered. “The time is not right for Ragnarok, yet it looms close at hand. Loki and his shall know the time, know that it is not now. So to Loki it falls the task of hampering the end, yet he cannot do it alone.” She pulled back and looked over her shoulder at the elder wolf. “Fenrir and his sons roam free. By Loki’s side you will be and shall prevent the advent of Ragnarok.”

Luna spun lightly on her heel and leaned towards Salazar with her hands clasped behind her back. “The pieces fall into place,” she told him. “Yet not all the players are yet on the board.”

Of course there would still be others. Luna seemed intent to build him an actual army. “Who else do we still need?” He asked wearily.

The blonde seer gave a laugh and straightened. “My husband of course!” She tilted her head when Salazar could only blink at her, as her own eyes twinkled with mirth. What she meant by her husband could mean literally a man who would be her husband, or it could be symbolic in some way.

“Your husband?” He tried to press, but she only spun on her heel to face the twins.

They watched her with unreadable expressions. When her attention turned to them, they straightened up and exchanged a look. “We do not know what sort of help we can provide, but we’ll swear it,” Skoll said seriously. “We’ve been locked away all our lives.”

“Locked away in an old manor house,” Luna said sweetly. “An old wizarding one. It might have been a pretty cage, but you long ago learned how to hide away in its library. Your captors were not smart enough to keep you away.”

Hati stared down at her and his gaze flickered over to his father. “Nothing gets past her, huh?” He deadpanned. Salazar could not hold back a wry snort.

As he stepped up to the bars of the cell, Salazar unsheathed his wand. “Headmaster Dumbledore has already agreed that you both will be allowed to be free of the cells as long as you swear the same Oath as your father.” He glanced over to Luna. “Or, more accurately, Luna told him that he would agree to such terms.” He smirked a bit before he turned his attention back to the twins. “It is known as a Vassal Oath.” He conjured up a piece of parchment and used his magic to scrawl out the Oath. He passed it over to them so that they could look it over.

“I do want to add that if you swear the Oath, I will also swear to take you under my protection. The Oath will bind you as a servant to me, but I will not take advantage of it. It will be as much of a protection for you as it will be for the school,” Salazar told them as they looked over the Oath. He watched them quietly discuss it before they gave nods with solemn expressions.

With their agreement, Salazar instructed them in how to make the Oath. Hati was the first to swear it as his magic branded his throat just as had happened to Fenrir. Another band appeared next to the first on Salazar’s wrist, yet slightly different in appearance. Each of his vassals would have their own mark. And, as Skoll swore his own Oath, a third mark burned into his wrist to join the other two. As the marks settled, Salazar released them from the cell.

He was not sure who had moved first, but he was suddenly sandwiched from either side as the twins hugged him. Startled, Salazar could not move for a long moment and just stood there awkwardly as he waited for them to remove themselves. “Thank you, Herrick,” Hati spoke softly before the two large men finally pulled back.

Salazar could only incline his head to accept the thanks. He sighed then and motioned with his hand. “You, along with Fenrir, have all of the dungeons to explore as you will. I only ask that you leave the students alone unless they approach you first. Even then, I ask you to take care in your interactions. There are a few families of my Slytherins that are here in the dungeons as well, so be mindful. You will, as well, have the freedom to roam on the grounds as you wish. For now, the Forest is off limits but the grounds are plenty large to stretch your legs.” He gave them a smile as he held the door open for them. “The rest of the school you are allowed to explore to a degree, but do be mindful of the students and other refugees. I would recommend you leave your exploration of the castle to after hours when the castle is quiet.”

As he led them through the corridors, Salazar paused near a set of doors that were near to Fenrir’s rooms. The dark haired wizard held out two iron keys to the twins. “These are the keys to your rooms. I am the only other one with a key to that door and it is warded not to open with magic, for your safety.” Once they had taken the keys, Salazar took a step back. “I will have a meal sent here to your rooms so that you might settle here in peace.” He looked between Fenrir and the wolf’s sons then. “Within your rooms, there is a door that separates each set of your rooms.” He figured that Fenrir would want to know his sons, but the door could be locked so he or the twins might have privacy.

Fenrir shot him a grateful look, his expression remarkably open and his eyes wide with something that might be wonder. “Know your sons, Fen,” he said softly so only the wolves would be able to hear his words. “If you need anything, just reach along the vassal bond. You are all welcome to join me and a few others each morning just past sunrise as we train our bodies for battle. There is another wolf here at Hogwarts who is newly Bitten. Fen is aware of him, and he will approach you if he is comfortable, but I think you might appreciate the feeling of pack.”

As he spoke to the werewolves, Luna came up to him and threaded her arm with his. She said nothing as the twins agreed to everything and said their goodbyes. As they disappeared into their room, Fen gave Salazar a deep bow. “Thank you for bringing my sons back to me,” he said roughly before he disappeared into his own room. Salazar thought he might go to the door that separated his rooms from theirs, so when he called on a house elf he asked the tiny creature to bring enough food for all three of the men. As the elf disappeared with a pop, Salazar looked down at Luna. “We might catch the end of dinner in the Hall, if we hurry.”

Luna hummed and then shook her head. “Come to the kitchens with me,” she suggested instead. “There will be food and privacy.” Salazar could only give in.

Once they had been seated at a table in the corner of the kitchens, Salazar gathered a plate of food for himself. He watched the tiny elves as they flitted about while they used their magic guided by their hands. “You wanted to speak to me in privacy?” He asked finally then as he turned his gaze to Luna. She had torn apart a dinner roll and gave him now an innocent smile.

“I often wish to speak to you,” she said with a soft laugh. “There are many things we could speak of, especially away from nosy ears.” She dipped a bit of bread into the soup she had gathered for herself and then popped it into her mouth. Once she had swallowed, she finally replied. “Next Friday will be the first of December. The winter cold has already long started to settle in, but we shall see the first snow at Hogwarts soon.”

Salazar scooped up a bit of his stew and blinked a little in surprise. “You are right,” he said after a moment. “I had not realized such time had flown so quickly since Samhainn and Vetrnaetr. That means that we are only a few short weeks away from Yule.” He knew the students would have a two week winter break, though he was curious about how Dumbledore planned to handle it with the refugees that year. They could not keep the children hostage, if their families wanted them home.

“The term ends on the 15th,” Luna said softly. “On the following Sunday, the 17th, any child that returns home for the holidays will board the Hogwarts Express to return to London. They will return on January 2nd.”

It was just before Yule then that they would depart. He knew Hogwarts would have a feast on the Christian holiday of Christmas, but he doubted that there would be anything done to celebrate Yule. After the success of Samhainn, he wanted to plan something for Yule as well. He had no doubt that a great many more people would remain behind this year, afraid to return home. “Yule begins on the 21st this year,” he mused softly. “Traditionally, in the Northern ways, there would be a blót. A sacrifice. It was often a goat. However, I suspect that a sacrifice like in the old ways would not be well accepted. We can have a feast and make offerings. A more modern blót.”

Luna was quiet as she watched Salazar. The wizard didn’t seem to notice. “Odinn rides in the Wild Hunt on the night of Yule as the veil between worlds thins once more. We will want to remain indoors, though I had planned to make use of the Room again. Perhaps we could use the facade of the Northmen’s longhouse? It will provide plenty of room for feasting and the hearth in the center will be large enough to burn a yule log.”

When he paused to think, Salazar took another bite of his food. Luna smiled and reached out to place her hand against Salazar’s arm. “Let me take care of the decorations and the planning,” she told him. “I will have Hermione help me. She’ll enjoy it.”

Salazar blinked a bit before he had to laugh. “She certainly will. And it might give her a bit of a break from all the research she has been doing. Her research has been incredible, but she needs to relax some. If you can distract her with plans for Yule, she will be all the better for it.” He would also need to create or purchase Yule gifts for a number of people, now that he thought about it. He gave a soft sigh and then shook his head. “You have certainly made my life more interesting,” he told Luna then. “And, as much as I want to complain, I am grateful for the help if nothing else.”

The blonde witch gave him a smile and a little shrug. “I merely pointed you in the right direction. You have done well on your own.”

“If you say so,” Salazar said softly, though he did smile. He discussed Yule for awhile longer with Luna then as they finished off their meals. Once they parted, he decided to make his way down to the paddock to visit with Grani. He stopped by his quarters to fetch his fur lined cloak as Luna had not joked when she said that the winter chill had settled into the land.

As he stepped outside the castle, Salazar was not surprised to see that the night had descended. The sun had set in the early hours and darkness had fully cloaked the land. Even the moon and stars did not shine as they were covered by snow heavy clouds. Salazar pulled up his fur lined hood and made his way down to the stable. As he approached the structure with its stone foundation, the first snowflakes began to fall. A loud whicker greeted him then as Grani stepped from his warm lit stall out into the cold of the late November night.

“Hello, my friend,” Salazar greeted as he hopped the fence. When Grani butted his nose against the wizard’s chest, Salazar laughed and scratched between his ears. He reached into a pouch at his side then and pulled out an apple. “I brought a treat for you.” Grani was overeager in his acceptance of the treat, but Salazar only smiled and continued to scratch at his nose. “Let us go for a ride, Grani. It has been some time, has it not?” He led the stallion over to the stable where his tack was put up. Salazar first gathered Grani’s brushes and carefully groomed the creature’s thick winter coat.

Once he was satisfied, Salazar gathered a thick furred blanket and draped it over Grani’s back to keep him warm. He next lifted the saddle onto Grani’s back and made sure that all of the straps were properly secured. Once Grani was ready, Salazar took hold of his reins and led the horse from the stable and to the corral gate. He opened it and led Grani through before he mounted him. It had been weeks since he had last been in the saddle. Honestly, he had missed it.

“We must keep to the grounds and cannot venture outside Hogwarts’ borders,” Salazar said as he guided Grani around. “Yet, it still gives us plenty of room to stretch your legs.” He clicked his tongue and snapped the reins to encourage Grani into a trot. He eventually worked him up into a canter. It was while they passed the Black Forest towards the loch that two wolves suddenly peeled away from the shadows and fell into step on either side of him. Immediately, without reservation, Salazar knew that they were Hati and Skoll. With a wild grin, he coaxed Grani into a gallop. Though horses were naturally just a touch faster than a normal wolf, the twins were not normal wolves. They easily kept pace as they barked playfully. Salazar was impressed when Grani remained calm and did not startle at the predators that flanked him.

As the snow fell around them, Salazar led the wild race around the loch and back towards the castle. Eventually though, he reined in Grani and walked him to cool him off before they reached his paddock. As he dismounted, the twins suddenly transformed midstep and leaned against the fence as Salazar removed Grani’s tack. The dark haired wizard brushed Grani down once more before he made sure that he had his feed along with clean water. With a gentle pat against Grani’s withers, Salazar left the warmth of the stable. Hati and Skoll still waited for him.

“Good evening,” he greeted them as he left the paddock and locked the gate behind him. They greeted him as well, but did not move from their spots. Salazar looked up towards the castle through the small patch of trees. The night was dark, but the lights from the castle provided an unearthly glow upon the grounds. It was quiet as the snowflakes drifted in a dance around them. Salazar almost did not want to break the silence.

“The Seer says that we shall be your generals.” Hati was the one who broke the silence as he watched Salazar. “But we do not know you. She calls you Loki and we know that you have ensured our freedom, but we know little else of you.” He straightened from where he leaned against the fence, his white hair left wild about his head.

Salazar pulled his gaze away from the drifting snow and settled his eyes on the sons of Fenrir. “In truth, I have no idea why she has decided you will be my generals,” he told them honestly. “I never wanted to be part of this war in the first place, but I find myself at its forefront.” He looked back up at the castle and wordlessly settled a privacy ward around them with a bit of gathered magic so the banded runes on his forearms burned lightly at the use of wandless magic. The two men next to him watched him with sharp eyes, so similar to those of their wolven forms.

“Your father is aware, but I am also known as Salazar Slytherin.” He gave a small smile at the sharp intake of breath that it earned him. “I see you have heard of me. In this world, I barely spent any time as a founder of Hogwarts. However, my reputation has preceded me and has blown widely out of proportion.” He slid his eyes over to them then. “There are very few who know the truth of who I am. I would like to keep it that way as long as possible.” He said it firmly with the knowledge that they would not be able to speak against him because of their Oath.

“I never hated mundanes or the mundane born children that came to Hogwarts,” he continued. “However, I had blood adopted one of my students that had been abandoned by their family. As a founder, I had no family but for the other founders. Recklessly, I made a family for my own even though my brother hid a deep hatred for mundanes. It is through his line that the Dark Lord rose.” Salazar frowned and looked down at his hands as he raised them. He watched as snowflakes melted against his palms. “It was through my folly that the Dark Lord came of the Slytherin line. I will right my wrongs. Just as Loki is often called upon to fix problems of his own making,” he said the last bit with a mocking lilt to his voice. “Or so Luna tells me.” It still felt wrong to be likened to a God. He did not deserve such an honour.

In the next moment, Salazar cleared his expression. He turned his gaze back to the twins. “As a völva has named you my generals, I will introduce you to the others and have you join our meetings. We have discovered the Dark Lord’s secret and a way to defeat him. For good.” He dropped his hands then. “We are in the midst of a war. But a battle is coming.”

“She really does want you to raise an army,” Skoll spoke now. “The Seer must know that we are prepared to do what we must.”

Salazar’s lips twisted in a frown, his eyes chips of ice. “Our enemy will not take the care to preserve our lives,” he said softly. “Why should we not show the same regard?” His expression softened somewhat then and he lifted his gaze towards the castle once more. “Their hearts are in the right place, but I do not believe that many of them have the fortitude to do what needs to be done. Though Luna may have her own reasons, this is why I believe you both must be commanders at my side, and not any of the others I have gathered around me as comrades.”

There was a long pause before Salazar gave a deep breath. “There is still time. Luna seems to think that there will be at least one more grand player that has yet to arrive and I am inclined to believe her words.”

The twins exchanged a look before Hati spoke again. “Even if you say there is time, if you intend to actually raise an army that is not afraid to fight the deatheaters on the proper terms, you need to start soon. They will need time to prepare.”

“You are right,” Salazar gave a soft laugh before he took a deep breath and let the chill settle in his lungs before he let out a white breath. He watched it swirl and dissipate before he responded further. “Yule approaches us in less than a month. There are many things that must be done, but I intend to let us enjoy the festivities first. Of which you will be invited, of course.” They seemed excited at the idea, but said nothing as they waited for him to explain. Salazar smiled and shook his head. “I do have an idea, but I am not sure of the specifics of it yet. Let me hold my counsel for now, but I will let you in on it soon.”

The two frowned, but then agreed. As they straightened, the twins stepped away from the paddock fence and started back towards the path to the school. “We intend on finding the library,” Skoll told him. “We will probably spend the most of the night there since we do not need much sleep.” He paused and the two spared each other a look. Finally, Skoll looked back to Salazar. “Join us for breakfast in the morning,” he invited. “In our rooms.”

Salazar considered them before he gave a nod. “As I mentioned before, I train with a small group in the mornings just after sunrise. You are welcome to join us then. Afterwards, I will join you for breakfast.”

“We will take it into consideration,” Hati told him before the twin men disappeared along the path up towards the castle. Salazar spent a few more long minutes to just watch the falling snow, then he returned to the castle as well. He found Luna and Blaise in his office as they marked homework, so Salazar joined them. If the two had taken over his classes, this was the least that he could do to thank them.

It was late when Salazar leaned back in his chair and stared down at his desk. Blaise had started to pack up, but Salazar could feel Luna’s gaze on him. He wondered if she could guess at his thoughts. “Blaise,” he said suddenly. “When I first arrived here, I never thought I would have friends again. I told myself that I had been too betrayed and, for my own safety, I could not trust anyone. Not anymore.” He looked up at the dark skinned wizard and gave him a small smile. Blaise watched him with wide eyes, but with an otherwise blank expression. “Somehow, I can find it within myself to call you my friend.”

He glanced over to Luna then before he focused back on Blaise. “Someone, the little blond bird that volunteered you, has let me know that my secrets will one day be out in the open for all to see. The thought of such exposure…” Salazar trailed off and shook his head. “I want to reveal my own secrets on my own terms, but that choice may be taken from me. In preparation for that, I want to gather my allies to myself. My friends. I want to tell them my secrets so that they will not be blindsided later by the revealed truths. So, I want to reveal myself to you, however I want your word that you will not tell anyone. Not until the truth comes out or I am ready.”

Blaise was quiet a long moment before he stood up and approached the desk rather than the little table he had used to grade papers. He stood in front of Salazar’s desk and leaned down to give the wizard his full attention. “I am… blown away that you would trust me with what must be a deep secret. I have trusted you to hold my secret as a werewolf and you have done so much for me. I can swear an oath that I will not tell your secret.”

With a shake of his head, Salazar kept his gaze on Blaise. “No, I will not require an oath from you.” He paused then as he looked up at Blaise. His friend. “One of my names really is Herrick. However, another of my names is Salazar Slytherin." He was blunt, but sometimes it was better to be straightforward.

Blaise froze before he quickly reared back. “Forgive me, my lord…” he started, his eyes wide. Salazar could almost see the thoughts that zipped through the other wizard’s mind. He held up his hand to cut Blaise off. Out of the corner of his eye, Salazar could see Luna place a hand over her mouth to cover her smile.

“First of all, do not call me that again,” Salazar said sternly as he turned his focus solely on Blaise, though a smile curled his lips. “I was never a lord and, even if I was, I would never require you to call me by such titles. I am a man and only a man. I might have been a founder long ago, but that only means that I started this school with three others. It does not elevate me to godhood like some wizards seemed to have made us. It has been over one thousand years since Hogwarts was founded. Do not believe everything you have heard.”

There was a moment of silence as Blaise tried to process. “Even so, I am truly honoured that you would tell me such a secret,” he said before his thoughts seemed to catch up to him and he narrowed his eyes. “However, how is that possible? You had a horcrux in you,” he pressed. “How could you have been a founder, and yet have one of the dark lord’s horcruxes in you?”

He had wondered if Blaise would catch that. Salazar gave a faint smile and leaned back in his chair. “There are several that can attest to the truth. Einar knew me as Salazar long ago. Luna knows the truth as well. You can even ask the Weasley twins. All of them know the truth of my identity and would support my claim. As for how I am a horcrux,” he said before he paused to gather his thoughts.

“You were there when I introduced our circle to horcruxes and to the knowledge of the one I had in me.” He paused then and gave a soft sigh. “What I said is true as I really was involved in an incident ten years ago that stole my memory from me,” he spoke as he gazed at Blaise. “That incident ten years ago brought me to the past with nothing but fractured memories. I am Salazar Slytherin and Herrick. But, before, I was someone else.”

“But who? None of the Dark Lord’s followers had children go missing,” Blaise pressed. “I can think of no one with the right connections and in the right age range.”

Salazar sighed softly and turned his head away a moment as he looked at Luna. She gave him a little nod. It gave him courage to turn back to Blaise. “I think you know on some level. You see, it has been ten years that I have been Salazar Slytherin. However, time is a funny thing. While I have been gone and aged ten years, only five have passed here.” He paused as he watched Blaise’s brow furrow. “Think, my friend. What happened just over five years ago? It would have involved a high concentration of magic. Who disappeared in that time that would have had a connection to the Dark Lord?”

As he thought, Blaise’s gaze had dropped to the floor. But it was barely a moment later that his golden eyes snapped up to meet Salazar’s gaze. “Harry Potter,” he breathed out and dropped down into his seat abruptly. “You are Harry Potter. By the gods, it was staring me right in the face.” He shook his head almost as if he could still not quite believe it. “Fuck, Potter, you have changed. You are nothing like the boy I knew in school.”

Salazar grimaced at the name and made an aborted shake of his head. “Please. Do not call me that. Harry Potter might have as well died that day. My memories are still fragmented and disordered. I have not been Harry Potter for a very long time. I do not even know who he is anymore.”

Blaise gave a solemn nod before he suddenly barked out a laugh. It startled Salazar,  but he only gave a blink. “Gryffindor’s Golden Boy is actually Salazar Slytherin! The very antithesis of who Dumbledore’s protégé had been!”

“Yes, yes. Let it all out,” Salazar grumbled as Blaise bent over in his laughter.

When the dark skinned wizard finally was able to contain his mirth, he cleared his throat and gave Salazar a smirk. “I needed a good laugh like that. But I want to know… why tell me this? I can see the truth in your face. Harry Potter was never a good liar or good actor. He could not have come up with such an outlandish story. Yet, I see him in your face. Unless Potter had a twin no one ever knew about, you could not be anyone else.” He tilted his head a little. “We never interacted in school. You were a Gryffindor and the only Slytherin you ever had time for was your little spats with Draco.” He blinked then before he started to snicker again. “I plead with you to allow me to be there when you tell Draco the truth.”

Salazar let Blaise have his laughter again before he let out a sigh. “There are a number of individuals that I do not look forward to telling my secrets,” he said before he gave a small smile. “When I first returned to Hogwarts in this time, it was shortly after I had been banished by the other founders. Their minds had been poisoned and turned against me, so I was banished. By the will of Gods and magic, I found myself back here again over one thousand years in the future. My original time, it turns out. However, when I arrived here I was still reeling from the betrayal. I told myself that I could not have friends anymore. I had to protect myself. But, despite that, you became my first friend here.” He was also encouraged by Luna’s responses. She had not indicated that he could not trust Blaise with the secrets and he really did need to start to tell his companions. It would give him better allies once everything was revealed to the rest of the world.

“I am honoured,” Blaise said as he stood up. “I truly am, Salazar.” He reached out then to place his hands against Salazar’s desk then and gave him a smirk. “And it has nothing to do with my childhood dream to be able to meet my hero.”

With his tone, Salazar was only partly sure that Blaise joked. “I do not think I want to know what sort of stories have been concocted about me and the other founders,” Salazar said blandly.

Blaise smirked as he straightened. “No, probably not,” he agreed. “I suppose then that it is false that you saved Gryffindor from a dragon and that is why the school motto is Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus .” His voice was playful, though Salazar could detect a note of true inquiry.

“Never tickle a sleeping dragon,” Salazar said with a sigh. “It was actually the nest of a young wyvern that Godric bumbled into as we surveyed the Black Forest. And it was not as exciting as I am sure the story made it out to be. Draconids understand parseltongue, so I apologized that we had disturbed it and we went on our way. Godric thought the motto was funny,” he said wryly.

Unable to hold back a snort, Blaise gathered up the papers on his conjured desk. “Yes, of course.” He gave a little chuckle before he glanced at the clock on Salazar’s desk. “It is very late. I should really head off to bed because even nocturnal creatures like me need sleep. Especially if I am to enjoy my lesson tomorrow morning.” The smile he gave showed teeth sharper than a normal human’s.

“I did promise weapons,” Salazas said mildly as well. “Also, Fenrir and his sons might join us tomorrow.” He wanted to warn Blaise so that their presence would not be unexpected. The werewolf thanked Salazar before he said a good night. As soon as the man was gone, Luna wrapped her arms around Salazar and pulled herself in for a hug. Salazar hesitated, but returned it after a moment. “Go get your own sleep,” he told her. “And thank you once more for taking over my classes.”

“It was the least I could do,” Luna said with a soft laugh. She leaned up then to press a kiss against Salazar’s cheek. “Sleep well, dear Salazar.” She was gone moments later. Salazar decided to follow her example and headed off to bed as well.

When he stepped out of the castle doors early the next morning, the sun had not even broken the horizon yet. The sky had lightened with the coming dawn, but it felt like the world still slept. The unbroken snow blanketed the grounds and washed everything in an almost otherworldly glow. Salazar adjusted the pack over his shoulder and pulled up his hood as his breath left him in puffs of cloud. With the sleepy quiet of the world around him, Salazar made his way down to a clearing near the loch. Others would likely appear soon, so Salazar removed his wand and cleared away the snow. He used another spell to rope off the clearing and establish warming spells. He carefully dropped his pack to the ground then and stretched himself out slowly.

Fenrir was the first to arrive. He wore nothing but trousers and a long tunic. Even his feet were bare. Salazar greeted him with a nod as he removed his own cloak. It was warm enough in the cleared circle to go without it. For their run, the exercise would keep him warm. “I am glad you would join us,” Salazar greeted. “Have you fought with a sword before? Or relied merely on the strength of your claws?” He asked as he conjured up a rack and then set out the weapons he had brought with him. He lined up shields as well, pulled from the enchanted bag.

At the question, Fenrir pulled an axe from off of the rack. “As a boy, I would spend summers in the Northern communities,” he admitted. “To them, my kind are Ulfheðnar. Wolf-warriors. My father’s line descend from the North, from the Great Fenrir himself. Though it has been generations since my family has come to the Isles, my father never wanted me to forget my roots.” He twirled the axe in his hand as he tested its balance and weight. He gave a savage grin then and lunged at Salazar. The collar around Fenrir’s neck did not flair, so Fenrir had no intent to actually harm him.

Even so, Salazar gave a soft curse and grabbed a sword from the rack. He blocked Fenrir’s strike, though he had to raise an arm to hold the sword with the leather bracer he had worn to bind the loose sleeves of his tunic. “Been a long time since I had a good fight,” Fenrir said with a wolfish grin.

“I hope I will not disappoint you then,” Salazar responded as he surged up and knocked the axe aside. He guided it safely away from him, then twisted the blade and brought it back towards Fenrir’s chest in a sweep. The wolf immediately jumped back out of the way.

“Decided to start without us?” A voice called out from the edge of the ring. Salazar startled a little, but did not dare to look over. He recognized Blaise’s voice, but he kept Fenrir in his sight. The wolf grunted softly though and stood down. Salazar finally turned to look, to see that Blaise had arrived alone. However, he also spotted Hati and Skoll as they approached down the lawn.

As he looked them all over, Salazar returned the sword to the rack. “Draco will not join us this morning?” He inquired as he turned to face Blaise.

With a shake of his head, Blaise stepped into the circle as well. “He was called in the late hours of the night, just as he predicted. He has not returned yet.”

Salazar could only hope that Draco would be well, that he wore the amulet that he had given him. “Let us hope for his safe return then,” Salazar said as he waited for Hati and Skoll to catch up. Once the twins had joined them, Salazar studied each of them before he gave a small smirk. “Four werewolves and I am the only human among you. Bit of an unfair advantage, if you ask me.” He sent them all off on a run and decided on a shorter one for his own so they would all return to the clearing at the same time.

Salazar and Fenrir were the only ones who knew how to fight with the weapons. Even though he started Blaise on a sword, Salazar and Fenrir both agreed that the twins needed to learn other basics first. They did have good instincts and they were quick on their feet so it gave Salazar a workout just to keep up with the twins when he helped Fenrir with demonstrations. They picked things up quickly though and Fenrir promised to teach them longer when the others broke for the morning. Blaise had to clean up and then find Luna to prepare for the morning classes.

Salazar might have stayed longer, but two ravens suddenly swooped from the sky and landed on his shoulders. One of the ravens Salazar recognized as Hilde’s Troels. The other must have been the raven he had asked her to find for him. “Fenrir. I will leave the weapons with you for your use with their training. Once you are done for the day, please return them to my office.” He reached up to first pet Troels and then pet the new raven. “Come, my friends. You have had a long journey.”

The three werewolves gave him their goodbyes and the twins promised to have breakfast with him another time. As Salazar started the trek back up to the castle, Blaise fell into step beside him. “You are getting better,” Blaise observed quietly after a time. The snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked and had been the only sounds around them but for the distant sound of animals in the Forest. “Needing to keep up with werewolves has taught you to think faster on your feet, I think. I’m actually really impressed that you can keep up with us.”

Salazar snorted softly as he stepped up onto the cobbled path to the castle doors. “I have the bruises to show for it,” he retorted. “But, yes. I might have had the knowledge before now, but now I have had the opportunity to really ingrain it into my muscles so it is instinct. I am not fully there yet, but I know I have improved.” He reached up to pet Troels again. “If you have the time before you have to run off to classes, will you join me in the kitchens for breakfast?” It would be the easiest way to get food for themselves and for the ravens. With Blaise’s agreement, Salazar led the way to the kitchens. There, the wizard requested breakfast from the elves and water for the ravens.

Seated at a back table, Salazar picked out a few berries from his porridge and offered it to the ravens that had hopped down onto the table. Salazar untied the letter that was secured to Troels’ leg and then tucked it into his tunic to read once he made it back to his office. Instead, he enjoyed the time with Blaise as they discussed the potions’ classes. Salazar was glad that Blaise did not seem to treat him any differently.

Eventually though, Salazar stood up. By then, Blaise had already left for a quick shower and then the rest of his day. Salazar himself wanted to get back to his office and read Hilde’s letter. He allowed the two ravens to hop up onto his shoulders again and then made the trek down to his office. Troels was the first to settle on the perch on a table that Salazar had found for the raven’s visits. The unnamed raven settled on the back of his chair. Satisfied, Salazar opened the letter from Hilde.

“Herrick,

I am glad that you liked my gift! And I am glad that you have apologized. I will accept your apology once we have had a chance to spar. Which might be closer than you think.

Herrick, I have spoken with my father. It has been something that has been discussed too at the Thing. All of the communities have decided that the English’s Dark Lord must be stopped. It will take time, but my father has taken charge in assembling a warband. We will work as quickly as we can, but it will still be some time before we will be ready to mobilize. Still, if you have need of us sooner, just send a message with your raven. We will come.

But let us talk of happier things, Herrick. Our spirits will be worn down to nothing if we only think of war.

I do not know what it is like there, but here winter has truly come to us. The nights grow long and cold. But that does not have to mean anything. After the first snow, some of the other young adults in the village and I all had a snowball fight. We broke up into three groups because why keep it simple? Why make it easy? It was so much fun! I think you might have enjoyed it. Afterwards, we all went to have some drinks to chase away the chill. Honey mead and spiced wine. Goes down awfully easily so I might have forgotten a portion of the night.

Well, apart from that, days have been as usual. The usual chores. The usual meals. It’s comforting in a way. I almost miss my days at Uppsala Academy. Do you know of it, Herrick? It’s a magical school for the Northern communities that was built upon the old temple. Well, it still operates as a temple and grand ceremonies are held there. The rest of the buildings are a school. I went there for my studies on magic, but I have since graduated. It is a boarding school, not unlike your Hogwarts in the British Isles. Though some of the children do commute and our school year is different. We must go home to help with harvest and other things after all.

Perhaps I would be able to show you some time? If not the school itself, then the temple. For one of the grand gatherings.

However, I should wrap this up. I could write and write, but my mother is calling me to help with some chores. I look forward to your next letter!

Take care, Herrick!

Hilde Eiriksdottir

Oh, the raven that came with my Troels is unnamed. I thought you might like to name him yourself.”

Salazar chuckled as he set the letter down. “I did not even have to ask them if they would ally with us and send a warband. It is certainly a relief in that regard,” he said out loud to the two ravens. “Thank you, Troels, for the message from your mistress.” He stood up then and turned to face the raven that had perched on the back of his chair. “Greetings to you, new friend,” he said as he reached out a hand to the creature. “Hilde tells me that you are unnamed. What do you think of Magni?” He asked, but the raven squawked and turned his head away. Salazar laughed in response. “No? What of Sindri?” The bird continued to ignore him. “Yngvi?” Still nothing. Salazar could not help his small snort. “Then how about Heimir?”

The raven finally looked back at him and preened in response. “Heimir it is then. Well met, Heimir.” He stroked the creature’s head and then returned to his seat. “I will introduce you to Eolas later once he has returned.” He always spent the night with his familiar, but he could not carry the serpent around like he would have liked. Eolas had certainly been rather ornery as of late because of it. If he might have more time because Luna and Blaise took over his classes, he would have to spend more time with the serpent.

He had just pulled out a piece of parchment to respond to Hilde’s letter, but there was a knock on the door. Hermione stuck her head in a moment later. Salazar frowned and stood up. “Hermione? Should you not be in class right now?” Had something happened?

“I excused myself,” she told him as she waved her hand. “Just this once. Professor Snape had a test planned for today anyways so my help will not be missed too much.” She gave a little smile. “Fred and George are back. They are headed up to the Room.”

Salazar rounded the table then and made his way to the door. Luna and Blaise would not be able to make the meeting. Draco he was not even sure was back in the castle, but even if he was Salazar did not want to disturb him. So Salazar left only with Hermione as they made their way up to the Room. The Weasley twins already waited for them.

“Welcome back,” Salazar said as he slid into a chair. Both Fred and George looked exhausted as they lounged over their chairs. “Have you had anything to eat recently?” He was curious about what they had managed to find since Luna had deemed it would be enough to keep him too busy for his ability to teach, but he wanted to make sure the twins were taken care of first. “Any injuries you need to have tended?”

George waved his hand absently as he leaned forward and flopped over the table. “No injuries. If you don’t count exhaustion.” Salazar reached into a pouch and pulled out two vials of Pepperup. He slid them over to the twins. “Oh, Herrick, you are a godsend. A lifesaver,” George gushed as he popped the lid off and downed the potion. “Oh, that’ll wake ya right up!”

“Food too, if you’re offerin’,” Fred butted in before he knocked back his own potion. “Oh, geez, that’s definitely what the healer ordered!”

As he rolled his eyes at their antics, Salazar summoned a house elf and requested some food be brought. Once the twins had dung in, Salazar leaned against the table and folded his hands in front of him. “Did you have any luck with the orphanage?”

“Nah,” George said with a shake of his head before he stuffed a piece of roasted potato into his mouth. “Nothing there, just as you suspected. No magical residue. Absolutely nothing.” He mumbled the words around the food in his mouth as he purposefully ignored Salazar’s unimpressed stare. “But we did have more luck with Mrs. Cole’s daughter.”

Fred stabbed a piece of his scrambled eggs with his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. “She remembered a few holidays that the orphanage took the children on. Though, some of the holidays seemed to be more of an attempt to get the kids out of London during the Blitz since the timeline matches up.”

The twins exchanged a look then before George looked at Salazar grimly. “During one of the holidays over the summers he was on break from Hogwarts, Riddle disappeared with an Amy Benson and a Dennis Bishop. Neither ever said what had happened, but we were told that they were never the same afterwards. We can only guess at what Riddle did to them.” He ripped off a piece of his bread, but just fiddled with it.

“One of them mentioned a cave, so George and I went to go check it out,” Fred took over and looked up at Salazar. “Bill taught us some of the detection spells he knows from his work in Egypt. There is definitely something there, Herrick. We could not get into it, and we did not do anything extensive to really try. But there is definitely something in that cave that is behind heavy wards. We don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Salazar frowned as he leaned back in his chair. “No, I do not think it is a coincidence either,” he said quietly. He absently ran his fingers along his bearded jaw as he thought. It might have been best to wait for Bill’s help as cursebreaking was his speciality, but Salazar had a few tricks of his own. “You will have to show me the place,” he said finally as he lifted his eyes to look at the twins again. “Not right away, but soon.” He gave a small smirk then. “Luna seemed to know that you would bring a project back for me,” he told the twins. “She and Blaise have taken over my classes for the time being.”

“Well, we do have more than just the coastal cave to bring you,” George said with a grin before he glanced over to Fred. “Since there wasn’t much we could do about the cave, we made our way to Little Hangleton. Tiny little run down village. We snuck into the old Riddle Manor first, but there wasn’t much to find. Place smelled like death and decay, but there wasn’t much by the way of magical residue. Some, but nothing recent and nothing that was active.”

Fred stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewed on it before he swallowed. As he wiped at his mouth, he sat back in his chair. “We tried to ask around town some, but no one had any useful information. We almost wrote it off, but then we stumbled upon the old Gaunt homestead.” He grimaced a little as he pushed a piece of potato around on his plate. “Reeked of old magic that had been left to decay. Barely stood even in one piece as the forest around it seemed like it had absorbed the shack back into it.”

As he pushed his plate away, George shuddered. “Depressing little place, if you ask me. Definitely not haunted by ghosts, but rather felt like it was haunted by the ghosts of memories. All just out of reach.” He cleared his throat then. “We found a golden box beneath some floorboards after a bit of searching. Seemed to have some compulsion charms on it, but we managed to leave it there without giving into the urge to touch it. We’ve no doubt that there are other nasty curses on it.”

“A gold box?” Salazar repeated. “In a shabby house barely held up by old magic. Seems to be out of place, does it not? Perhaps we should head there first. A cursed box will be easier to inspect than a potentially cursed cave.”

Hermione let out a soft sigh and set down her quill. She had taken notes as the twins described the locations of potential horcruxes. “Well, that is two. If we end up correct, then that leaves only two more horcruxes we need to find.”

“If the Dark Lord succeeded in the creation of a horcrux using Ravenclaw’s Diadem, then we do have a third location,” Salazar said. “Hogwarts herself. Draco has been helpful in that regard as he searches for it.” He focused back on the twins then. “While you are at Hogwarts, and when you have the opportunities, I would like it if you would help Draco with his search.”

The twins exchanged looks again, but when they turned back to Salazar they gave wide grins. “We would be more than happy to help Draco,” they echoed each other. Salazar hoped they would not give the man too hard a time.

“I will let Draco tell you the particulars since it was his idea,” Salazar said with a small smile. “And I want to thank you for what you have done. The more horcruxes we find, the more the Dark Lord becomes mortal once more.” If the Prophecy was to be believed, it might need to be him who faced the Dark Lord in a final battle. He really needed to discuss it with someone. He might have asked Luna, but he might come up with more riddles than answers. He had told Blaise who he was, so perhaps he would discuss it with him. Hati and Skoll were to be his generals, according to Luna. Perhaps he could trust them with this as well.

Salazar took a breath then and looked over to Hermione. “We should discuss preparations to go to both the coastal cave and Little Hangleton. Would you want to accompany me to the Little Hangleton to fetch the gold box? I suspect it will be the easiest of the two locations, as a cursed box is easier contained than a cave filled with the unknown.”

At the question, Hermione’s eyes widened. “Yes! Of course!” She gasped out. “Oh, I would love to!” She stood up abruptly and gathered her notes. “Right, a cursed box. We’ll probably need another containment box for it. I should get right on that.” She was out the door moments later like the whirlwind she always seemed to be. Salazar had to smile to himself.

Once the door had shut behind her, Salazar looked back at Fred and George. “I wanted to ask you something,” Salazar said as he leaned back in his chair. “You have the Marauder’s Map, took it from Harry Potter’s trunk.” He knew the truth of his past, but still did not really associate himself with who he had been. “What came of everything else? What became of the white owl?”

Both Fred and George frowned and glanced at each other. “You mean Hedwig?” George asked as they both looked back towards the dark haired founder. “We’re sorry, Sal, but she was killed in the attack on your relatives’ house. As for your trunk, Sirius has it.” A pang tightened Salazar’s chest at the thought of Hedwig. His memories were still hazy, but he knew deep down that Hedwig had been important to him. He gave a nod, but could not bring himself to say anything.

Instead, Salazar stood up and then pushed in his chair. “I wanted to thank you again,” he said softly. “Both of you deserve a good rest. Hermione in particular might interrogate you for more detail later, so I recommend you go get some sleep now while you can.” The twins did not stop him, so Salazar left to return to his office. He was met at the doorway to the dungeons by Hati and Skoll, so he invited them down with him.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

Instead, Salazar stood up and then pushed in his chair. “I wanted to thank you again,” he said softly. “Both of you deserve a good rest. Hermione in particular might interrogate you for more detail later, so I recommend you go get some sleep now while you can.” The twins did not stop him, so Salazar left to return to his office. He was met at the doorway to the dungeons by Hati and Skoll, so he invited them down with him.

Chapter Fifteen

“This isn’t Little Hangleton,” Hermione said as she looked around in confusion.

Salazar smiled and looked down at the woman next to him. “No, it is not,” he agreed. “However, the Hogwarts wards only have one doorway. The front gates. I would not put it past the Dark Lord to keep track of who comes and goes. Especially after the victories we have had recently.”

“So we are taking a long route to throw off anyone who might trail us,” Hermione said in realization.

Salazar nodded in agreement as he held out his arm again. “Ready for the next stop?” Once she gripped his arm, he disapparated with the witch. They made several quick stops before they appeared in a fen. Hermione looked around curiously as Salazar walked away and stepped onto an old loose stone pathway. It might have become overgrown if it wasn’t for the larger stones that lined the pathway that were inscribed with runes to prevent such a thing.

Though she was confused, Hermione quickly caught up to Salazar. “This is definitely not Little Hangleton either. Why are we stopping here?” She asked curiously. There was an archway up ahead, not unlike the one in the Hogsmeade Nexus. It shimmered into view as they approached it. Hermione paused to look at it, her eyes wide in wonder. “It’s enchanted,” she breathed out.

“Yes,” Salazar agreed as he placed his hand on the archway. “It’s enchanted to be unplottable. There is also a variation of a repelling charm on it, to keep it from view unless one knows that it is there or is with someone who knows the secret. It leads into a sort of pocket dimension, a plane that is just out of phase with the rest of the world. It is not unlike the magical roadworks that cross all over the world. The only way to access this dimension is this archway.” He stepped through the archway and disappeared.

Hermione gasped softly and made a quick lap around the arch before she passed through it as well. Salazar immediately shimmered back into view. “That is incredible,” the witch whispered as she stared up at the arch. “It’s pretty close in construction to the Nexus arches, but it’s more crude in design. And definitely much smaller.”

“It is based on the druidic designs that are the mark of arches in the English Isles,” Salazar said as he continued down the path. Hermione turned quickly on her heel and gasped softly at the old cottage that came into view. It was close, but she had not noticed it before as she was too focused on the arch.

“What is this place?” Hermione asked as she caught up to Salazar as she inspected the hut. It did not stand very tall, with just enough head room for even the dark haired wizard at her side. Its foundations were of large irregular sized stones and its roof was thatched. A creek burbled nearby, though it had begun to freeze over. Snow lightly dusted the marshy land around them, though the path itself remained clear. Beyond the small cottage and its rough hewn doorways laid what appeared to be a large ruin. The foundation was of stone and it appeared to have either crumbled mostly away or perhaps not even been completed to begin with.

Salazar smiled slightly and ducked underneath the mantle of the door to enter the cottage. “This was home once for a short time,” he told her. And it was true. Though he had not been physically here in over one thousand years, he had not visited it very often. Hogwarts had been his first home and he had loved the school. But he had wanted a place of his own that he could work on more dangerous potions. So he had found this place in the fens and claimed it as his own. Everything that made up this place, he had constructed with his own two hands. He had shared the secret with a nearby family so they might guard over it in his absence, but he had never been able to return.

“There is nothing here,” Hermione observed as she looked around at the crumbling remains of what had once been Salazar’s cottage. “So, why bring us here?”

Unable to speak for a moment, Salazar crouched down to pick up the fragments of a scroll. It completely disintegrated within his hand. The preservation charms had nearly failed completely, so it was a wonder that the roof still remained intact. He had been lucky that the archway and the paths were still operational, but there was nothing else left here. “The land is unplottable. It may not be as well protected as Hogwarts, but it will throw any pursuers off of our trail.” And he had wanted to see what had become of his land. “We will be able to disapparate from here to Little Hangleton.” The only way to enter was through the portal archway, but one could exit by other means without trouble.

With a sigh, Salazar stood up and then turned back to Hermione. “All the charms on the cottage have failed. There is nothing left here now.” He held his hand out to the young woman. “Shall we make the last jump?”

Hermione looked around them with a small frown, but then she nodded and reached out to take Salazar’s hand. In the blink of an eye, they were suddenly on the outskirts of a run down village. Even with the sun out, the world seemed dim. Something old seemed to hang over the village like smoke. There was barely any movement as people seemed to hide in their homes or keep their heads down. “Lovely place,” Hermione muttered as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder.

Salazar did not respond as he glanced around the quiet street. “Fred and George were certainly accurate in their descriptions,” he said finally. “Come on.” He slipped his wand into his hand and carefully cast a charm on them both so that the eyes of the mundanes would slide right over them. He tucked his wand back away again before he started off down the street. Hermione quickly caught up to him as they passed by the decrepit gate of a centuries old cemetery. Salazar slowly came to a stop as the gate creaked ominously in the wind. The graveyard was surprisingly large for such a small village and there were old gravestones that dotted the grounds, overgrown and some even sunken into the ground.

Along an untended path Salazar could see a blackened old chapel. Beyond it, up the slope of a hill, was an old house. It might have been beautiful and opulent once, but had been left to decay. Salazar reached out and wrapped his hand around the cold iron of the gate. “It’s like the set of a cliche horror movie,” Hermione said softly as she stopped next to him and looked into the cemetery as well.

He had no idea what a movie was, but he thought he could understand the sentiment. His eyes caught onto a large mausoleum that sparked a memory. With a frown, he pulled open the gate and stepped into the cemetery. “Herrick?” Hermione called after him, but Salazar did not hear as he instead trailed along the path and let his feet lead him into the old graveyard. Hermione worriedly followed after him.

When he came to a stop, Salazar stood in front of a large tombstone. He reached out then and touched the cold stone. “Thomas Riddle. Mary Riddle. Tom Riddle,” he read off softly. “So this is the resting place of the Dark Lord’s grandparents and his father.” He turned then as images of rope and bubbling cauldrons haunted the edges of his vision, only to blink in surprise when he saw Hermione there.

“Herrick? Are you okay?” Hermione asked softly as she stepped up to him. “Um, how did you know this was here?” She glanced over to the headstone before she looked up at Salazar again.

There was a long silence before Salazar turned away from the headstone and started back down the path again. “I am fine,” he responded before he gave a soft sigh. “And I cannot answer that. Not yet.” He knew why he had found himself here because he had been here before. The memory was still fuzzy, but it was clear enough to recognize where he was. “We should head to the Gaunt hut. I apologize for the detour.”

As she hurried up to catch up with Salazar, Hermione hesitated before she took the wizard’s hand. He looked down at her in surprise, but she gave him a small smile. “I trust you,” she said softly. “You can tell me anything, you know? But come to me when you’re ready.” She squeezed his hand and then let go.

“Thank you,” Salazar said softly as they exited the graveyard. They did not speak again until they had reached the Gaunt home. “Charming.” Salazar spoke the word blandly as he looked up at the mummified body of a snake nailed to the rotting wood of the front door. The lock on the door appeared to be broken, so he placed his palm against the wood and pushed to open it. While it creaked on rusted hinges, the door opened without problem. Salazar stepped up into the small shack before he looked around with a small frown. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. It was easy to see that no one else besides the twins had been in there in a long time as their footprints littered the floor with everything else otherwise untouched.

Salazar looked around with a small frown before he made his way over to where the footsteps in the dust were most concentrated. He got down onto his knees then and slipped his fingers between the loose slats to pry open the floorboards. He set the board aside as Hermione crouched down next to him and she opened up her bag. As she pulled out the containment box, Salazar unsheathed his wand. The glittering gold of the small chest seemed almost unnaturally bright in the dim light of the subfloor. It called out to him to pick it up and inspect it further. He could almost hear audible whispers to urge him on.

As he drew on his magic, Salazar slammed down on his Occlumency shields. The pull was still there, but it was easier to focus on what he needed to do. He swirled his wand and then pulled carefully so that the chest slowly lifted out of the hole. As it was exposed, the pull became stronger. It was enough that Salazar could see Hermione’s eyes glaze over, so he quickly guided the golden box into their containment case. He reached out then to close the lid with a sharp snap, to break Hermione’s concentration on the chest. She flushed slightly when she realized what had happened, but offered Salazar a relieved smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

As he replaced the floorboards, Salazar gave a small smile. “I apologize. I had not realized that the compulsion would be so strong. It is contained now and we can focus on how to reverse the compulsions.” And whatever other curses were on the chest.

As he stood up, Salazar secured the containment box and then handed it off to Hermione so the woman could place it back into her bag. He then helped her to her feet and led the way to the door. The trip had gone rather well so far, but he was eager to make it back to Hogwarts. As they reached the door then, he gave the footstep laden dusty floorboards a look of consideration. As he came to a decision, he unsheathed his wand once more and gave it a swish. A light breeze swirled through the room to sweep away their footprints and settled the dust once more. When Hermione gave him a questioning look, Salazar smiled at her. “Just a minor misdirection. If the Dark Lord comes to check on his horcrux, then it will make it harder to guess when it was taken.”

Hermione nodded her head as she gripped her bag tightly. “There were no wards over the house itself. He is arrogant enough to think that no one will find them,” she said softly as she watched Salazar close the door. “Or he feels secure enough in the number of horcruxes he has made to believe that he does not have to worry about all of them being destroyed. That he’ll always have at least one.”

As he stepped down the overgrown path, Salazar snorted softly. “The production of horcruxes has been known to fracture the mind,” he said. “Especially with the number the Dark Lord has created for himself. He was always a little not right in the head but the more he fractured his soul, the more he fractured his mind as well. He might have started the war with a personality that was cunning if impulsive, but he has since lost that. It only brings out the worst parts of his personality.”

“He is clever, but too arrogant. He’ll mess up,” Hermione responded softly. Salazar could only nod his head in agreement. “Meet you back at the gates?” When Salazar agreed, Hermione gave a smile and then disappeared with a soft crack. Salazar was not far behind. When they reappeared in front of the castle gates, Salazar stepped through after Hermione. She had been smart enough to not wait for him and already had passed into the wards. Salazar did not think there was too much to worry about, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He quickly caught up to her and she offered up a smile to him. “Thought we might take the box up to the Room. Should be time for lunch, so we could eat something,” she suggested to him. Salazar agreed, so they made their way up to the Room. As they walked, Hati and Skoll appeared. Hermione looked at them with uneasy consideration, but Salazar greeted them without hesitation.

Once they reached the Room, Salazar turned to Hermione. “I want to properly introduce you to Hati and Skoll Greyback,” he told her. Over the few days that it had taken them to get the containment box ready, Hermione still had not properly met the twin wolves. "Hati. Skoll. This is Hermione Granger, assistant professor of the Defense against the Dark Arts class. She is also the most avid researcher of our little group.”

“We really should come up with a name for ourselves, don’t you think, Herrick?” Hermione muttered before she took a deep breath and stuck her hand out with a toss of her flyaway hair. “As Herrick said, I am Hermione Granger. It is a pleasure to meet you, so feel free to call me Hermione like everyone else.” She shook each of their hands before she carefully settled her bag on the table. As she pulled the containment box from her bag, Salazar called a house elf to bring them lunch.

“What’s in the box?” Hati asked as they settled around the table and served themselves food from the platters.

Hermione was the one to respond. If Salazar trusted the two men, then she would trust them. “It is a cursed chest that, presumably, contains a horcrux.” Salazar had already explained to both men what the Dark Lord had done to his soul, so they only adopted grim expressions and turned their eyes onto the misleadingly innocent looking crate. Hati frowned and shoved a bit of roasted potato into his mouth.

It was Skoll though that leaned forward eagerly and tightened his hand around his fork to fight the urge to open the lid. “A cursed chest? What sort of curses are on it?” He inquired eagerly, food momentarily forgotten. “I do not have the practical knowledge, but I read Ewart Crowe’s ‘Treatise of Cursebreaking: A Compendium,’” he stated. Hermione’s eyes widened, food forgotten as well. “He mentions a standardized method of curse deduction and curse unweaving.”

“Yes! I have read the book as well,” Hermione said eagerly. She waved her fork around absently as if she had forgotten that it was in her hand. “I actually prefer his ‘Mythical Referendum’ where he mentions his standardized method, but amends a few of his points while expanding on Fergand’s Third Law.”

With Skoll and Hermione entirely immersed in their conversation, Hati tore a strip of meat off of his chicken breast and glanced at Salazar from the corner of his eye. “We have completely lost them,” he said with a grin and then bit into his chicken. “Not that it bothers me. Skoll is better with magical theory than I am. If we had been given the chance to attend Hogwarts, he would have been a strong contender for Ravenclaw. He’s the scholar and the tactician.”

Salazar watched Hermione and Skoll for a moment before he looked over at Hati. “We all have our strengths. If he is the thinker, what does that make you?”

“The brawn?” Hati said it with a smirk and a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m a faster dueler and fighter. If Skoll can go in with a plan he’s a force to be reckoned with, but I’m better on the fly.”

Salazar hummed in consideration. “And that is why you come as a pair, not separately,” he mused. He stood up then, but he was amused to see that it did not catch Hermione’s attention. Skoll spared him an absent glance, but quickly dismissed them. Salazar chuckled and shook his head. “Hermione,” he called to get the witch’s attention. Once she finally faced him, he smirked lightly. “I think I will leave this to you and Skoll for the time being. Remember to keep the chest in the containment box for now, but you should still be able to study it through the constraints. Once you are finished for the day, bring it down to my office and I shall keep it secured.”

“Yes, of course. I will keep you updated,” Hermione said in a dismissive tone that surprised laughter from Hati. The wolf stood as well to follow Salazar out the door.

“I might know a thing or two, but they move through theories at a quicker pace and have more book smarts,” Salazar said once he had closed the door. “So, it would probably be best to leave them to it for now.”

Hati smirked and tossed his head a bit. “You got that right,” he muttered. “If you are not busy, do you mind if I tag along?”

After a brief moment of consideration, Salazar inclined his head. “I would not mind the company,” he decided. “Would you like to follow me down to my office?” He wanted to pen a letter to Hilde before the day was out because he had not yet had the chance to reply to her latest letter, but he would not mind the chance to understand Hati a little more. “How are you settling into Hogwarts?” He asked as they started the trek down to the dungeons.

“It is strange,” Hati replied in a soft voice. “Skoll and I grew up in an old manor house. Barren and left to rot. Even the library was years out of date, though it is where we learned the majority of our knowledge. We only remained alive for as long as the Dark Lord’s orders stood to keep us so, though for the fourteen or so years that he was a shade we were largely forgotten about. Still, we grew up in a crumbling manor with very little by the way of socialization. You’re lucky we’re housebroken,” he gave a quicksilver grin with too sharp teeth before he sobered once more. “It is strange to be in a castle that is so large, so alive. It is a cage, just like the manor in the moor was, but it does not feel like one.”

Hati was quiet for a long moment, but Salazar remained quiet as well. Finally, the man continued. “People do not fear us here. Not in the way that we grew up with. Though if they knew what we are, that might change. Still, it is nice to not have the stink of fear follow our every interaction.”

With a delicate snort, Salazar started down a set of stairs. “Witches and wizards can be extraordinarily blind to what is in front of them,” he commented. It drew a bark of laughter from Hati and startled a pair of students on a nearby staircase. Salazar gave them an apologetic smile but turned a mischievous one on Hati. “Far too little logic amongst the lot of them.”

“Can’t disagree to that,” Hati snickered. He shook his head then. “We are settling well here. As well as can be while in the midst of a war, at any rate.”

“I am glad to hear of that,” Salazar said. They were quiet then for the rest of the trip down to his office. Salazar invited Hati to take a seat and then took a seat of his own. There they chatted over whatever came to mind, though Salazar mainly told stories of his time at Hogwarts at its founding. It was at the end of one such story that Fenrir came in search of his son.

“Pardon my intrusion,” the wolf said mildly. “Skoll seems to be busy, but would you like to join me for a run on the grounds, Hati? If you are busy, I can come back later.”

Salazar found himself intrigued at how shy the alpha wolf had become around his sons. There was still plenty of strength that hung around Fenrir, but he seemed almost afraid that he might push his sons away somehow. Their relationship was still somewhat new, but Salazar believed that Fenrir’s tension would ease with time. The twins shared their exasperation with Salazar, so it did not surprise Salazar when Hati rose with a roll of his eyes. “I would be more than happy to join you, father,” the younger wolf said, his tone almost flat. Salazar knew it was only to disguise his exasperation and vague amusement.

Salazar stood from his seat as well. “It is no trouble at all. I have a letter to write anyhow.” He gave Hati a mischievous wink then. “Enjoy your run.” Hati flipped him off and left to Salazar’s laughter.

Once the two wolves were gone, Salazar shook his head and pulled out a sheet of parchment. Heimir croaked and fluttered his wings from his perch. Eolas appeared as well and wound himself up the leg of the chair before he coiled in Salazar’s lap. “Hello, my friend,” Salazar said softly and gently rubbed the serpent’s head between his eyes. Eolan gave a pleased hiss and then rose up to see what Salazar was up to. He hissed out an inquiry that made Salazar smile. “I am about to write to Hilde.”

“You still write to this human? Are you interested in her as a mate?” The serpent questioned as he turned his head to look up at Salazar. Eolas might have raised an eyebrow if he had been capable of such a thing, but he still seemed to otherwise express the underlying emotion that such an action possessed.

At the interrogation from his familiar, Salazar gave the creature an unimpressed look. “Yes, I still write to her. I enjoy her conversation. But, no, I am not interested in her as a mate. She is just a friend.” Eolas did not look convinced, but Salazar did not back down. He spoke the truth after all.

The serpent hissed out something nonsensical, an equivalent to a human click of the tongue. Salazar rolled his eyes and lifted Eolas from his lap to drape the creature over his shoulders. He ignored the irritated hiss it earned him and leaned over his desk to grab his quill. He uncapped his ink and dipped the quill in before he started on his letter.

“Hilde,

I apologize that it has taken me so much time to respond to your letter. As you might imagine, the war here does not make things easy. While we might not frequently fight on battlefields yet, or at least I have not, there is much more that goes into this war. Several things have kept me busy, but it will hopefully give us an advantage. You will forgive me if I do not explain in my letter. But perhaps I might have the chance to explain it in person before too long, if your message is to be believed.

I will admit that I had already entertained the idea of reaching out to the Northern communities. I had not wanted to drag more innocents into the chaos that is the battlefields of the English Isles, but the Dark Lord has already involved your communities. It pleases me that you all would stand up to fight back. I could think of no other response from the North. I look forward to fighting side by side with you, by our shield brothers and sisters.

But enough talk of that for the time being. We got our first snow just a short time ago as well, though I have not had the pleasure of a snowball fight. Though, I do have good memories of too much mead with friends. One of my friends, let us call him Ric, was once convinced into a dress after too much drink. We never let him live it down, of course. Thankfully, however, he took it with grace. And he might have gotten them back for it later in a way that I definitely did not have a hand in.

Now, it is funny that you might mention Uppsala Academy. A few of my friends were just there not long ago to visit. I, myself, have never been to the Academy, though I have heard good things and it does intrigue me. So, I will take that promise that you will show me the Academy. I would love to visit a blót or other large festival hosted in the temple. But speaking of festivals, what have you planned for Jöl? Hogwarts, non-religious as it is, allows for the students to return to their families for the latent Christian holiday of Christmas. Things may be different this year with everything considered, but the school will likely host a feast for those who stay behind.

With the success we had for Samhainn and Vetrnaetr, my friends and I have decided to host a Jöl celebration for those who are open to it. I have been kicked out of the planning, but I have faith that it will be spectacular.

I have come to the end of my parchment now, so I suppose I should wrap up my letter. Thank you once more for the raven. He has been named Heimir, through his own choosing from those I offered. Though he is rather partial to meats of various kinds, I have found that he has a particular fondness for cloudberries of all things. The house elves in the kitchens had found some and he hoarded each one.

If you give Heimir a cloudberry, you might just have a forever friend.

Stay well, Hilde Eiriksdottir.

Herrick”

Salazar gathered a bit of magic and then blew over the parchment to dry the ink. He set aside his quill then and capped his ink once more before he folded up the parchment and tied it off with some ribbon. He sealed it with wax and then held out his arm to Heimir. “Shall we go get you something from the kitchens for I send you off with a letter for Hilde?” He had found the raven could be bribed with food, but only from people he liked. So as soon as he mentioned the kitchens, Heimir was on his arm with a squawk to get Salazar to move.

With a laugh, Salazar stood and had Heimir hop up onto his shoulder. With the letter in hand, he headed for the kitchens. Eolas had, at some point while he had written the letter, slithered off his shoulders and disappeared off into the castle. He had promised to see his familiar later, but for now he focused on the raven on his shoulder. “It is funny how so much has changed since I first came here in this time,” he said softly as he walked at a sedate pace through the halls. “I came here bitter and closed off. Now l have friends again, ones that know all sides of me. I know more about myself, feel whole once more.” Not all wounds had been healed, but he felt like he had started down along that path. At the very least his wounds had not been left to fester.

In the kitchen, Salazar requested some tea for himself and a bowl of mixed raw meat and berries for Heimir to enjoy. He seated himself at one of the House tables and let Heimir hop down onto the surface. He gently stroked the top of the bird’s head as an elf brought over a small bowl of food for Heimir along with a small dish of water. Immediately, the raven abandoned him for his food.

Salazar chuckled even as another house elf brought over his tea for him. “Thank you,” he said, but paused when a plate of scottish shortbread was settled next to his tea cup. He gave the small creature another whispered thanks before he broke off a piece of the buttery biscuit. It was still warm as if right out of the oven. Perfect.

Once he had finished his tea and shortbread, Salazar waited for Heimir to finish his own food. He then took the raven outside and secured the letter to the creature’s leg. “Take this to Hilde. You do not have to wait for a reply, but do not push yourself to return to me.” Heimir fluttered his wings in response and croaked quietly. The bird then spread his wings and took off from Salazar’s forearm into the air. The wizard watched until Heimir disappeared into the dark, then returned to the castle to see how much Hermione and Skoll had progressed.

Unfortunately, they had not progressed much as the compulsion charm that shrouded the entire box shielded the curses layered beneath it. So they had turned their attention to the compulsion charm itself as it made work on the box dangerous if they allowed it to remain. They did not need any accidents.

Hermione had a couple of ideas on how to separate the compulsion charm from the rest of the layers without the risk that they might trigger any others, but Salazar called a halt to their research for the rest of the night. It had gotten late and he knew that neither one had likely had dinner. So he had taken the box and had ordered them off to get some food along with rest. He then took the box down to his office to store under wards so it would be safe from curious hands. He would take it back to the Room in the morning where they could work on it all day. Once winter break was upon them, they would have more time to work on this project. Though he did need to work out the riddle of the cave. That would be his project for the winter break.

He worried over the search for Tyrfing, but there was nothing that could be done until Einar returned along with Bill and Charlie. He focused on the cursed box while he waited for their return, though it was nearly a week before they finally reappeared. In the late evening, Hermione appeared at his door to tell him that the three had appeared at the castle gates. She and Skoll had taken a break from the cursed box that day since Hermione had spent most of the day in her actual job as teaching assistant.

Salazar was hours deep in his help with some of the grading for the potions classes, but it was quickly forgotten as he was immediately on his feet. “Summon the others and have them meet us in the Room,” he instructed. “Ask the house elves for a meal.” Hermione gave a sharp nod and disappeared back out the door. Salazar was not far behind as he took quick strides. By the time he had arrived at the entrance hall, the three had entered the castle. They looked a little worse for wear, but Einar greeted him warmly as the elf’s gaze fell on him.

“Welcome back,” he told them, relieved to see them well. “I know you have only just returned, but come with me to the Room. A warm meal waits for you.” He knew they would likely want their rest, but he needed them to report success or failure first. So he requested a shortcut through the castle to the seventh floor, one that the castle happily provided. As he opened the door, he could see that all the others waited for them.

Einar was the first to enter. He dropped his pack down next to the door, his sharp eyes quick to notice a change. “I see there are new faces,” he commented lightly as he glanced over his shoulder at Salazar. When the dark haired wizard smiled and gave a small nod, Einar let it be and settled himself into a chair at the table next to the Weasley twins. Bill and Charlie followed his lead and took seats at the table. They barely greeted anyone as they gathered plates of food for themselves.

As he took his own seat, Salazar breathed out softly. The tension in his shoulders eased. “Bill, Charlie, Einar,” he called for their attention. “Before we begin, I want to introduce you to Hati and Skoll. They are the sons of Fenrir.” The twin sons of Fenrir each nodded as their names were called. Salazar then introduced the recent travelers to the twin wolves.

With that taken care of, Salazar breathed out a sigh. “Did you have any luck?” He finally asked. While he waited patiently, he watched as Bill and Charlie exchanged looks. Einar’s elegant and timeless face creased into a grimace. “What happened?” He asked, suddenly concerned.

Bill was the one to let out a rough sigh as he tore a chunk off of his dinner roll. “We did not find any sign of the sword when we went to the Maeotian marshes,” he said grimly. “We spent three days as we scoured the land by magic and by manual labour, but there was little there by way of magic. Even the wild magic seemed to have been undisturbed for a very long time.” He tore a small piece off of his bread. “We decided to stop then in Uppsala. The temple and academy there do not have Tyrfing, though they do have some other incredible artifacts. Einar was helpful in that regard.”

The elf laughed softly as he delicately speared a slice of carrot. “I have been a patron of the academy for many years. When I told them of our quest, edited of course, they were more than happy to allow us into their archives. The Academy is located in the forests of Lunden, so they know their surroundings. Tyrfing is not at the Academy and it is not in the forests of Lunden.”

“It was probably the most enjoyable part of our journey,” Charlie muttered as he cut off a piece of his pork roast. “Nice warm beds, a hot meal. Much better than even a wizarding tent.” He shoved the meat into his mouth before he looked at Salazar. “We decided then to go to Kolmarden forest since we were already in Sweden and part of the wizarding roadways run through the forest. We had made really good ground so far, so we decided that it would be better to do as much as we could.”

All three were quiet for a long moment. It sent Salazar’s teeth on edge, forced him to bite his tongue to be patient. “We stumbled upon evidence of Deatheater activity in the forest of Kolmarden.”

Salazar cursed under his breath, barely able to keep himself from a slip into parseltongue. “Did you encounter resistance?” They had arrived back at Hogwarts whole and uninjured, but it did worry him. Especially if the Dark Lord were to learn that they sought the magical artifact as well. “Was the sword there?” Had the Dark Lord beat them to the weapon?

When Bill gave a shake of his head, Salazar thought he might have passed out. He felt weightless as relief washed over him. “The evidence of camps we found were roughly a week old,” the cursebreaker said. “We searched their abandoned camps and through the rest of the forest, but found no indicators that the sword was there or had ever been entombed in the land.”

“Oh, thank the gods who watch over us,” Hermione breathed out from her spot next to Salazar. The wizard thought she looked about how he felt, but he managed a nod in agreement. “But that leaves us with three more locations to check and a narrowing corridor of time to do it. And if the sword is not at any of those three places, then we will have to start from the beginning.” The Maeotian marshes had been their likeliest location.

“Angantyr Heidreksson speaks in riddles, speaking of dark forests and Murkwood,” Luna said softly as she daintily picked up a roll from a platter. “Where the truth lies is not in the most obvious of places.”

Salazar blinked and turned to the blonde woman. “You make it sound like we should not even bother with our last three locations.” He only received an innocent smile in response. “Why could you have not mentioned this earlier?” It would have saved them a lot of effort if they had known this in the first place.

“Not all the answers are there for me to see,” Luna said gently. “They come to me when it is time for them to be known. Little is left to coincidence. They were where they were meant to be.”

That was not really what he wanted to hear, but he could not fault Luna. She was not all-knowing, all-seeing. He gave a small shake of his head and then looked over to Hermione. She met his look with a wry smile. “I suppose we must return to the beginning.” What had they missed?

Hermione had a quill in her hand as she studied a parchment in front of her. She nibbled on the tip of the quill in a nervous fashion, but then she looked up at Salazar. “Angantyr was a muggle. However, he had a magical sword. He knew the existence of magic. Perhaps he had mages that were close to him. It would broaden our range of where the sword would have been left,” she mused out loud. “If he was smart, if he had wanted to protect the sword from falling into the wrong hands, he would have placed it in a spot that no one would think to look. He would have had protections placed upon it.” She huffed softly as her eyes fell back to her notes. “It could be absolutely anywhere. I suppose I will start with creating a list of every known forest that once carried the name Myrkviðr, then see if we can’t narrow the list down from there.”

“I will help with such an endeavor,” Einar spoke up as he settled back in his seat. “Perhaps my collection of maps can be of use once more.”

“I would appreciate it,” Hermione replied in relief, but then stopped herself and took a deep breath. “Tomorrow. You should take tonight to rest well after your journey.”

Salazar stood then. “I agree. I apologize to everyone here that I requested your presence so late at night, but I believe you might all see it in your hearts to forgive me. After all, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that I am relieved that our fellows have returned safely to us. It was a trip that was not in vain, for all that you did not bring Tyrfing to us.” He paused then as he looked over their weary faces. “You have been gone on a long journey and I cannot express how grateful I am for your help. Sleep well tonight, safe in Hogwarts’ walls and warm in your beds. We still have much work to do, but do not let your worries haunt you tonight.”

Hermione was the first to leave as she gathered up the few materials that she had spread out before her on the table. Salazar knew she would be off to the library, so he called after her to make sure that she promised to actually get sleep that night. The redheaded twins tossed him winks and promised they would see to her, that she did not research too far into the night.

Bill was next to leave, though Salazar briefly stopped him to ask for his help on a project. He told the eldest Weasley son that he would give him the details later, but let him know that he required his expertise as a cursebreaker. Bill studied him a moment, but gave a nod. “I think I have an idea what for, but you’re right. I want to get some sleep tonight. See Fleur.” He clapped a hand against Salazar’s shoulder and then left.

Einar and Charlie left the Room together, though Einar stopped briefly to say goodnight to Salazar. The dark haired wizard watched curiously as the elf and the dragon tamer left together, though he had to say he was glad that Einar had made friends amongst their current group. Their ties were what made them strong after all.

Draco excused himself, too thin and with sleepless eyes. Salazar managed to press a vial of Dreamless Sleep into his palm before the blonde was out the door. Blaise watched after his former housemate with concern barely hidden in his eyes, but ultimately left with Fenrir. The older werewolf had taken Blaise beneath his wing and the two could often be seen together when Blaise’s schedule allowed for it. The mocha skinned wizard had flourished as a wolf.

Luna left after she had pressed a kiss against Salazar’s cheek. “Do not forget to take your own advice, dear Herrick,” she told him before she disappeared out the door. It left Hati and Skoll with him. The two had become ever present shadows, though Salazar had not minded their company. The two men, only a bare few years older than him, were inquisitive and curious. They learned quickly and had sharp tongues, though Hati in particular had a quick wit.

“I think she means for you to get some rest tonight,” Skoll said in amusement as he stood up from the table and rounded it to stand by Salazar’s side. “The last few nights we have spent into the too late hours. And not always on productive things.”

Salazar could only snort in agreement. He looked to Skoll then. “Tomorrow, I am going to recruit Bill to help us with the cursed box.” They had made some progress with the damn thing, but a lot of the curses had been tightly woven. The combined force of Skoll and Hermione had resulted in the removal of the compulsion charm so that it was easier to study the gold box, but they would need Bill’s experience as a cursebreaker to safely lift the rest of the curses.

As he listened, Skoll crossed his arms over his chest and hummed softly. “It will be interesting to work along with him. He is the cursebreaker from Gringotts, right?”

“Yeah, he works in Egypt normally, right?” Hati butted in as he draped an arm over his twin’s shoulders and hung off of him. “I know cooling charms are a thing but, damn, you’d have to pay me double to work in conditions like a desert. No thank you to the scorpions, to the sand.”

Skoll snorted at his brother’s antics and poked at his side. “Working conditions aside, I would like to see the tombs and temples. The curses that the priests put on tombs must be something incredible. Especially to make the Egyptian government partner with cursebreakers from all over the world.” He gave Salazar a lopsided grin. “Did you know that Ancient Egypt had the first recorded examples of magic and wizards? The Sumerians had the other earliest examples of wizardry, but Ancient Egypt was the first. Magic has always been there, and there have been practitioners from long before 3000 BCE, but Egypt was the first to have organized wizardry.” He paused and gave a little shrug as he shoved Hati off of him. “So to speak.”

Amused, Salazar could see how Skoll and Hermione got along so well. Hati gave his brother a look, his nose scrunched up as he straightened from where he had been pushed off of Skoll. “Nerd,” he scoffed, his tone light.

“Brute,” Skoll shot back without pause.

Hati snorted and waved a hand. “You match me for strength, so you must be as much of a brute as I am.”

With a sigh, Salazar started for the door. He did not want to get in the middle of whatever squabble the two might be about to get into. They would start with little snips that might have been teasing, but would inevitably end in a tussle upon the floor if left alone for too long. But when they noticed that he had left the Room, the wolf twins quickly halted their argument to catch up to the younger man. Salazar only smiled to himself as he led them away.

((Page Break))

On Saturday the 16th of December, Hogwarts hosted a feast to celebrate the end of term. The whole of the castle had gathered into the Hall and students sat with their families rather than as Houses for the most part. The atmosphere was loud and warm, food abundant and the anxiety of exams evaporated. An underlying tension ran the course of the Hall, but it was well hidden in good food and bright laughter.

Salazar took a drink from his goblet as he looked out over the lively hall. Luna and Blaise had joined Hermione and him at the staff table, but he could see the rest of their ragtag group at one of the tables. The Weasley twins got along too well with the Greyback twins. Salazar despaired at what pranks they might pull, but was glad that there was no alcohol involved in the feast. Things might have really gotten out of hand then.

Out of the corner of his eye, Salazar saw the headmaster stand and spread his hands out. The Hall quickly quieted as they noticed the old man wanted their attention. Dumbledore gave a wide smile then and his eyes closed briefly with the smile. “You will need to forgive me for my interruption of your meal,” he said first as he let his hands fall back down to his sides. “I would like to congratulate all of the students on finishing the first term of the year.” A cheer rose up, started by a group of Ravenclaw families, that interrupted Dumbledore’s speech. The man gave a patient smile as he waited for the cheers to quiet down.

“Yes, you should all be very proud of what you have done,” the Headmaster continued. “I can imagine most of you must be looking forward to your break from studies.” He chuckled before he let out a soft sigh, only heard by the staff seated beside him. “This year will be unusual for us. The castle is often quiet during winter break as students return home for the holidays. However, this year not one student has elected to return home.” Most students had families that were already at Hogwarts, or their families had told them to stay at Hogwarts because they had felt the school was safer. Salazar knew that there had been anxiety over a possible attack on the train, but now they would not need to worry.

“Christmas Day we will host a Christmas dinner unlike Hogwarts has had for a very long time,” Dumbledore told the gathered students and refugees. “I hope you all enjoy your break from your studies, but I would like to remind you all that a break from classes does not include a break from the rules. However, we have extended curfew to eleven o’clock each night. I still ask that you sleep in your dormitories each night, though I will make an exception for Christmas eve so that those of you who have families here might be able to spend Christmas morning with them.

Salazar took a quick sip to hide the frown that pulled at his lips. What of the children that were stuck at Hogwarts and did not have family here? It was a good number of his students within Slytherin. Hermione had already warned him that it was tradition for students to open presents on Christmas morning, regardless if they actually celebrated it the way it was meant to be celebrated. No matter how Christmas had started, it had largely become a holiday for family and gift-giving. Parents might send presents through the post or students had been able to buy gifts in Hogsmeade, but there were a number of students who would be unable to be with family for Yule or Christmas. Perhaps he could do something. Salazar glanced over to Blaise and caught his eye. From the man’s expression, he had similar thoughts.

“Enjoy the feast and enjoy your break from schoolwork!” Dumbledore said and broke Salazar’s concentration. He looked away from Blaise and looked out over the students instead. Yes, there had to be something that they could do. If he could get Blaise’s help, perhaps even Draco, he thought he knew just the thing. But first, they would enjoy Yule. Until then, he had other things to attend. One of which was a meeting with the Headmaster after dinner. The thought of it was enough to make him queasy, but he kept his anxiety under control.

Once the feast had started to wind down, the Headmaster had left the Hall. Though he meant to follow him, Salazar stood up and glanced over to Blaise. The man approached him and offered a small smile, though it was barely a lift of his lips before he placed a strong hand on Salazar’s shoulder. “I believe in you, Salazar,” he breathed out as his lips barely moved. Salazar caught it all the same. “No matter what happens, Dumbledore cannot force you from the school and you have many friends here who will stand behind you. We will finish what we have started.”

Salazar closed his eyes for a moment and allowed himself a smile. “You sound as if I walk towards my executioner,” he said mildly. “I do not expect the conversation to go so badly, but I do appreciate the support.” He pulled away from Blaise then and made his way around the staff table where he was met by the Weasley twins and their elder brother Bill. Hermione and Skoll had made great leaps forward with their analysis of the cursed box once Bill had had a chance to give his input. They knew the box better than anyone else, so Salazar had requested Bill’s presence in help with another potential horcrux. He would have left the twins behind for this one, but they had been the ones to find the cave and so knew its location. Could not take one without the other either.

They followed him up to the Headmaster’s office where Dumbledore waited for them. “What can I do for you boys?” The old man asked them from his spot behind his desk. He had his hands folded in front of him, but then he suddenly leaned back and motioned towards a dish on his desk. “A lemon drop before we start?”

Salazar declined it as he approached the desk and took a seat in one of the chairs. Bill took the other chair as the twins flanked Salazar. He appreciated the show of support as he took a deep breath. “What do you know about horcruxes, Headmaster?” He asked finally, his voice steady.

There was a moment of absolute silence amongst the men, the only background noise the soft whirring of silver trinkets on the shelves. Dumbledore suddenly leaned forward again, his hands folded on his desk once more. His eyes were sharp as he studied each one of them, Salazar in particular. “What do you know of horcruxes, Professor Evans?” He returned the question back. “And why would you ask such a thing?”

Though he had expected such a reaction, Salazar sighed and licked his lips. “Soul fragments,” he stated simply as he kept his eyes on the headmaster. “We know that the Dark Lord created several of them. Seven in particular, if our theories are correct. Miss Granger remembers Tom Riddle’s diary from her second year, which was destroyed by Harry Potter. We believe that Nagini is one for how closely he guards her, though we have not yet planned on how we might get our hands on her.” She would likely be the last horcrux they hunted since it would put the Dark Lord on their trail. “We have reason to believe that Ravenclaw’s Diadem is another, which is hidden here within Hogwarts’ very walls. We have gotten our hands on one from the Gaunt home. We believe we have located the fifth in a cave that is heavily warded.”

The old headmaster was quiet. “That leaves you with two more, if what you say is correct,” he said lightly.

“Yes,” Salazar agreed. “But I know you must know of at least one of them.” His gaze was steady and sure.

Dumbledore finally gave a sigh and leaned back in his chair once more, his aged face lined deeper. “Yes. I believe that Harry Potter was an unintentional horcrux.” From next to him, Bill suddenly choked as he made the connection. He waved Dumbledore off sheepishly without a word, but Salazar knew that he would need to speak with Bill. Dumbledore nodded to Bill and then turned his eyes back on Salazar. “Tom advanced on the Potters for many reasons that night, but one was that I believe he intended on making a seventh horcrux. He was always obsessed with strong magical associations. After splitting his soul six times already, it was unstable. When he tried to kill little Harry Potter that night, a small fragment broke off and embedded itself into the boy’s scar.”

He had wondered if Dumbledore had known. It seemed that he had, but somehow Salazar could not bring himself to be too surprised. The old man played many things close to his chest. He had not wanted to read Skeeter’s book of slander against Dumbledore, but perhaps it might give him some insight. Likely not. He had more important things to worry about though. “We need to find the young man,” Salazar said then as he broke himself from his thoughts. “We need to verify if he is alive or dead. If dead, then so is the horcrux.”

“He is alive.”

Salazar knew that, the twins knew it. He suspected that Bill now knew it. But how did Dumbledore know about it? “You sound certain. So why is he still missing?” Salazar asked curiously as his face gave nothing away.

“I had always watched over the boy,” Dumbledore said quietly. “I cannot track where he is, but I know that he is alive and that he is well.” The headmaster paused and then lifted a hand to stroke his beard. “Why are you hunting Tom’s horcruxes?” He asked suddenly.

Salazar decided to tell the truth, or at least a variation of it. “It is my deal with Hel,” he told the old man. “In exchange for allowing me to be in her realm and her help in finding Angantyr, I am collecting the pieces of Riddle’s soul to send them to her care.” There was much more to his reasons for why he would hunt the horcruxes, but he still told the truth. Let Dumbledore assume that Hel had been aware of the Dark Lord’s split soul and had demanded the payment of him, rather than that he had offered the bargain. “I never wanted to be part of this war, Headmaster. When I appeared on Hogwarts doorstep all those months ago, I never imagined I would be thrust upon this position.”

The headmaster’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Yes, seers have a tendency to throw our lives into a spin,” he said with a warm chuckle. His expression sobered some then and he regarded Salazar seriously. “Herrick Evans. When you appeared in the Great Hall before term, I could have never known how things would have turned out. You were an unknown player in this war that has dragged on for far too long. But, since you have appeared, the tides have turned for us. You have made Hogwarts a truly safe haven and have given us a chance against Tom. I appreciate everything you have done for us.”

He had never expected to be thanked. “It would be wrong of me to stand by when I have the power to do something. Anything.” He took a breath then. “Headmaster. You knew the Dark Lord when you were younger, did you not? You were the Transfiguration professor in his first years of Hogwarts. We believe we have found most of his horcruxes, or at least have an idea of where they are located. However, there is still one left, if we discount the Potter boy for now. That is why we are here, to see what we have missed.” They had to approach Dumbeldore about it eventually anyways.

Dumbledore was quiet for a long moment before he gave a nod. “I might have an idea,” he said finally. “Tom Riddle graduated Hogwarts in 1945. The year after, he went to work at Borgin and Burkes located in Knockturn Alley. It is my theory that he searched for artifacts that he wished to use in his creation of horcruxes.” Salazar nodded. They had already known this. “I had the stroke of luck of being able to retrieve the memory of Hokey, a house elf under the employ of Hepzibah Smith. Her memory had been modified, but I was able to recover the true memory it covered of Tom Riddle’s visit to Madam Smith.”

If Tom Riddle had visited Madam Smith with a purpose, Salazar could only guess that it had not ended well for the woman. “Madam Smith was one of the last descendants of Helga Hufflepuff and had had in her possession both Helga Hufflepuff’s cup and Salazar Slytherin’s locket,” Dumbledore continued, but paused when Salazar startled at the mention of the artifacts.

“Forgive me,” Salazar said after he had collected himself. “After Riddle’s pursuit of Ravenclaw’s Diadem, it should not surprise me that the man would be so intent on gathering other artifacts associated with Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore gave him a wane smile and inclined his head. “Tom always did have an obsession with Hogwarts. He saw it as his first home, I believe. As the Heir of Slytherin, he saw himself entitled to the school.” He shook his head then. “As for Madam Smith, she was found dead two days after Tom’s visit to her and the two artifacts had gone missing. Her house elf, Hokey, then confessed to an accidental poisoning. That was how I was able to see Hokey’s memory, though it was a long time before I came to realize what Tom had stolen the artifacts for.”

With a grim nod, Salazar glanced over to Bill. He then turned his attention back to the Headmaster. “We have a potential horcrux in our possession now. Perhaps it is either the locket or the cup, but that remains to be seen as Hermione and Skoll progress to remove the curses that surround the box it is contained within,” he told Dumbledore. “Bill and the twins here will travel with me to the cave for the next potential horcrux. Perhaps it too will contain either the locket or the cup. Though I will admit that I hope that one of them contains a horcrux we are not yet aware of just yet. If both the cup and the locket are accounted for, then it leaves us with still one last horcrux we cannot even begin to imagine.” He paused and absently rubbed at his bearded jaw. “Did Riddle ever come upon any artifacts of Gryffindor that we are aware of?”

The headmaster stood at the question and went over to where there was a glass case on one of the bookshelves. He removed a very familiar sword. Salazar was on his feet before he even realized he had moved. “Godric Gryffindor’s sword,” he breathed out. He was surprised it was here with the school. Had not Rowena said that Godric had gone missing? He would have thought that the man would take the sword with him because he had prized it so greatly. No, that was wrong. He vaguely remembered the Chamber as Harry Potter.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said as he offered it to Salazar. “Be mindful of the blade as it is now imbued with Basilisk poison.” Salazar winced at the reminder as hazy memories clouded the edges of his vision, but he wrapped his hand around the leather wrapped hilt. “It is in the style of what we would call an early Norman sword,” Dumbledore lectured. Salazar wondered if the man had been a Ravenclaw for all he seemed to favour Gryffindors. Though, honestly, the man often seemed like a Slytherin too. “It is similar in style to what we might call a Viking Ulfberht sword, though the blade is slimmer. This particular sword was forged by Ragnuk the First, a goblin weaponsmith.”

Salazar remembered. He had been there when Godric had received the blade. Though he had heard some people describe it as pure silver, the truth was that the blade was forged from mithril. It was lighter than a normal sword, though much more durable. It was likely still sharp even now, though he was not about to test that theory. The wooden hilt had been wrapped in leather made from a kelpie hide. The pommel, a flat disk mounted to the hilt, was embedded with a ruby and allowed the use of the sword as a magical focus. Etched into the metal along the blade, in Latin letters, was Godric’s name. Salazar had thought it arrogant and completely ridiculous, but it had already been done. Godric had enjoyed the way the letters sizzled brightly like fire when magic was channeled into the blade.

“This is the only known artifact of Godric Gryffindor to survive,” Dumbledore said as he unknowingly interrupted Salazar’s thoughts. “Tom came to me just after his graduation and inquired about the Defence against the Dark Arts position. I turned him away. I believe now that he had wished to get his hands on that sword. Or perhaps even the Sorting Hat because of its importance to Hogwarts. Both have remained in this office since, though for an incident a number of years ago when the sword was used to kill a basilisk.”

Salazar grimaced once more and set the sword back into its case. “I am not even going to ask,” the dark haired wizard said as he turned away from the sword, his chest felt tight with some unnamed emotion he did not care to analyze. Instead, he returned to his seat while he ignored the gazes of the twins that were on either side of him once more. “Let us hope that we shall have some idea of what to look for, if not where to look for it.”

As he returned to his desk, Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. “If I might make a suggestion. Lucius Malfoy was, at one time, one of Tom’s most trusted. He had entrusted with him the diary that housed one of his horcruxes.” Salazar blinked and sat back as he raised a hand to absently tug on the edge of his braid. He had not known that. He remembered the Chamber and the basilisk, but had not remembered yet all of the details around the incident. No, wait. He remembered now that Draco had made mention of the diary. Had Lucius Malfoy known of its significance? But that wasn't what was important.

“Lucius Malfoy might not be the only one entrusted with one of the horcruxes,” the founder mused. “If that is the case, it raises its own concerns and problems. However, it could be a place to start. Thank you for the insight, Headmaster.” Dumbledore gave a small nod. “Before we head out, I also wanted to give you an update on our hunt for Tyrfing. You are aware that Bill here has returned along with his brother and with Einar.”

Bill gave Salazar a quick grin before he took over. “The three of us went to three of the locations that Hermione had narrowed in on. However, we came up with nothing in our search.” He elaborated then as he gave Dumbledore the same details that they had given Salazar and their group upon their return.

Dumbledore looked grim as he smoothed a wrinkled hand over his long beard. “So Tom has the same thoughts about the location,” he said quietly.

“Yes, but Luna says that it is not actually in the most obvious spot. In her own words,” the twins piped up with eyerolls. “So we might have an edge over dear Tommy boy.” Salazar fought off his own eyeroll, though a small smile played at his lips. The twins were always so irreverent in just the right situations that it helped to lighten the mood. It certainly made the headmaster chuckle.

The old man gave them a smile. “That is good to hear then. We can use an edge.” He let out a soft sigh then and turned his gaze on Salazar. “When do you plan to leave for the cave you believe houses a horcrux?”

Salazar glanced over to Bill and then returned his steady gaze to the headmaster. “In the morning,” he informed Dumbledore. “We want to move as quickly as we can before the Dark Lord realizes that we hunt his horcruxes.” Dumbledore nodded his agreement, so he wished them luck and told them to get some rest.

The next morning, Salazar dressed warmly in a long tunic and furlined cloak. He had long given up on wearing proper wizarding robes and preferred the garb of the Northern communities. The rest of Hogwarts had given him strange looks at first, but they no longer gave him second glances now. Salazar found the tunics much more comfortable than the stiff robes that most pureblooded mages preferred. He did not care so much about the need to fit in anymore. He had those who would stand behind him regardless.

Fred and George already waited outside the entrance hall doors. “Did you eat?” They asked him before they shoved something into his hands. Salazar blinked down at the warm object in his hands and then looked up at the twins with a raised eyebrow. They cackled at him and then took bites out of their own wraps. “Breakfast wrap! Easy breakfast on the go,” George told him. “Wrap stuffed with scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, cheese, and a slightly spicy sauce. Can do anything you want really, but that’s what’s in that one,” Fred finished.

A breakfast wrap, huh? Must be some modern culinary invention. He gave in and took a bite as the twins watched him eagerly. “It is adequate,” he told them blandly. They deflated and pouted, but Salazar took another bite. Might as well finish it while they waited for Bill. He had eaten breakfast, but it had been a quick and small meal. He had to admit that the wrap was warm and filling. Just as he had finished the last of it, Bill appeared.

“Sorry, sorry,” the man said as he practically jumped down the steps, a bag slung over his chest. “Fleur is not too happy that I’m leaving Hogwarts again for another dangerous adventure.” He grimaced a bit and fixed his cloak. “Shall we head out then? Before she hunts me down and forces me to stay back like she threatened me last night?” He winced at his younger brothers’ cackling laughter.

Salazar hid his own amusement. He really should go visit Fleur again as he had some faint memories of her from what he thought was a competition at Hogwarts. “Breathe easy, Bill,” he said in amusement. “Let us be on our way.”

“You cannot leave without saying goodbye,” a soft voice said behind them from the entrance hall doorway before they could get too far. Salazar turned to see Luna there. She was dressed in a long wool dress today and had a fur lined white cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Already her cheeks were pink from the cold, but she gave a warm smile as she caught Salazar’s gaze. She descended the steps then and wrapped her arms around Salazar in a hug. “Take care, my dear Herrick,” she whispered into his ear.

As she took a step back, she folded her delicate hands into her sleeves and gave them all a smile. “Stay safe.”

Fred and George gave jaunty little salutes and then started off down the path with laughter in their wake. Bill gave Luna a little bow and turned on his heel. Salazar lingered just a little longer as he watched Luna. She turned her clear blue eyes up to meet his own emerald ones. She did not appear to be worried, so Salazar did not believe things would go too far off the path. He gave her a bow as well and whispered a goodbye before he turned to follow after the Weasley brothers.

“Do not disturb the water.”

Luna’s words stopped Salazar in his tracks. He turned then to look back at her, to take in the grim lines of her face. A frosty breeze swirled around them and Luna pulled up the furred hood of her cloak as her dress fluttered in the wind. Salazar wanted to press her about what she meant, but he doubted she would give him anything more than riddles. He would understand what she meant when he came to it. “I will keep your council close,” he reassured her and finally left as she wordlessly watched him catch up with the other men.

As their boots crunched in the newly fallen snow along the path, Bill waited until they were far enough away from the castle before he glanced over at Salazar out of the corner of his eye. His voice was quiet as he spoke into the silence. “You are Harry Potter, aren’t you? Professor Dumbledore and you both agreed that Harry was a horcrux. I know that a horcrux was removed from you in Helheim. If that is true, then you could only be Harry Potter.”

The twins looked over their shoulders as they walked ahead of their brother and Salazar. The dark haired wizard himself was silent for a long moment before he nodded. “I was Harry Potter, yes,” he finally said. “When my relatives’ home was attacked over the summer after my fourth year, there was a magical explosion. That has been well documented, yes? The raw wild magic flung me through time and buried my memories.” He looked over to Bill instead of keeping his gaze on the path ahead. “The way time flows… I spent ten years in the past while it continued only five years here. Perhaps there was some purpose to it.” He shook his head and looked back down the path again.

“I was once Harry Potter. However, it has been ten years since I knew Harry Potter and many of my memories are still hidden from me.” He gave a bittersweet smile as the twins saluted him and then faced down along the path again as they continued the trek to the gates. Salazar breathed out softly and watched the lazily drifting snow. “I am Herrick.” He was also Salazar Slytherin, but he did not know if he would ever be Harry Potter again. Somehow he doubted it.

“I don’t envy you,” Bill responded quietly. “And I don’t blame you.” He gave Salazar a smile. “I don’t know if you remember, but I met you the summer before your fourth year. The summer before your disappearance. You were a tiny and gawky kid.” He grinned wider and adjusted the strap of his bag. “A savior and a pariah depending on the whims of the public. You have changed since I last knew you, and I cannot blame you for wanting to hide who you were. Yet, somehow, you have made it back on the frontlines of this war.”

Salazar huffed softly as a wry smile played about his lips. “Though they can be difficult to interpret, the words of prophecy are not easily avoided.”

“The reason why you were targeted as a baby? Why the Dark Lord always seems to be out for your blood?” Bill said with a note of realization. “It was a prophecy.”

“The very same,” Salazar replied wearily. “Perhaps you, and the others who know the secrets of my identity, can help me understand the words of prophecy. But, for now, we should focus on the task we have set out for ourselves today.” Bill nodded his agreement and they remained silent as they finished the trek down to the gates.

Once they were outside the wards, Salazar placed his hand on George’s shoulder while Bill did the same with Fred. George wrapped his arm around Salazar’s waist with a wink before he disapparated them both away with a sharp crack. When they reappeared, Salazar found himself at the edge of a cliff that stared out over the angry waves of the ocean below. There was the crack of appartion behind them as Fred appeared along with Bill. The cavern they stood in was barely large enough to fit all four of them, the dark stones jagged and slick with salty sea water. “Take care of your footing,” Salazar warned as he pulled away from George and unsheathed his wand. Bill already had his own wand out.

“Occulta revelare,” Bill intoned as he wove his wand in a grid-like pattern. From the inky and jagged stones of the cavern wall rose the glow of runes in a scarlet hue not dissimilar to a shade of blood. The sight alone of these runes as they burned just beneath the surface of the stone made Salazar realize that whatever trigger opened the door, it would require blood. He stepped closer to make sense of the runework as scarlet light pulsed like lightning to connect the runes like a network of veins. It was eerily beautiful in a way.

After a few moments, Salazar frowned. “How disgustingly simple,” he muttered before he exchanged a look with Bill. The man looked grim, but somehow disappointed as well. The Dark Lord always thought himself so clever. Salazar sighed then and pressed his wand to his arm, but Bill stopped him with a hand.

“What’s going on?” The twins demanded as George even crossed his arms petulantly across his chest. Salazar ignored him for the moment as he raised an eyebrow at Bill. They both knew that the cost of entrance was blood, but not even that much of it. Certainly not enough to drain a person, like he might have expected.

Bill shook his head and glanced back at his younger brothers. “The key to opening the door is a toll of blood,” he explained, but quickly turned his attention back to Salazar. “It might not mean anything, but perhaps we should not use your blood to pay that toll. The enchantments were probably set up long before you were even born, but you were still connected to the Dark Lord for a time. Probably best not to take any risks.”

There was logic in that statement, Salazar supposed. So, he gave a sigh and then nodded his head. “Go ahead. But remain vigilant once the door opens. The defense feels too simple.” He directed his warning to the twins as well. The identical men nodded grimly with wands already in hand as they waited for Bill to open the door. As the craggy and broken stones fell away and melted into the floor, it revealed a monstrous cavern awash with a faint greenish glow.

With caution, Salazar stepped through the doorway and flicked his wand to light it. He flicked it again so the ball of light detached from the tip and hovered in the air beside him. He realized quickly that the light did not penetrate the darkness as much as the spell should have done. He frowned and looked over the deathly stillness of the lake that took up the majority of the cavern. “‘Do not disturb the water,’ Luna warned,” Salazar breathed out as he carefully stepped down to the shore of the lake. His light did not penetrate the depths of the lake, but he could only imagine what dangers lurked beneath.

“There. Across the lake,” George suddenly pointed out as he appeared by Salazar’s side. “There is a green glow. Do you suppose that is where the horcrux is located? How do you think we can get to it? Apparition would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”

Salazar examined the shoreline. “I have no doubt that Apparition has either been warded against, or it would trigger a trap that lies in wait. No, we will not risk it. Instead, I would wager that there is a boat that lies somewhere along the shore. The Dark Lord would have needed a way to cross the lake undisturbed.” Luna had said not to disturb the water, but there would need to be a way across. The Dark Lord would have left in some sort of transportation so that he might be able to visit or remove his horcrux. So, he sent off his ball of light along the edge of the water and low to the ground to search for the boat he thought would be there.

He was right. The ball suddenly stopped in front of an invisible object, so Salazar made his way over to inspect it as loose gravel crunched beneath his boots. Bill followed him over as his own ball of light floated near his head. The twins waited anxiously where they were, though George carefully crouched down to look at the water. Salazar sharply reminded them not to do anything to disturb the water.

When both Salazar and Bill arrived at the little rowboat with no oars, Bill drew his wand in a grid-like pattern once more. “ Occulta revelare.” This time, instead of runes, a series of woven strands of spell thread became illuminated. They draped over the lines of the boat like a multi-coloured blanket. Salazar studied it along with the redheaded cursebreaker, but Bill was able to come to a conclusion far faster than he was. “It has some propellant charms on it that will bring us across the water, but unfortunately it has a variation of an age line on it. Only one full grown wizard will be able to ride across at a time. Any attempt to tamper with the spellwork will trip the trap that has been woven through.”

Salazar frowned and looked over to the small island just barely visible across the vast cavern lake. “Is it possible to send the boat back by itself?” He asked Bill as he tried to think of a plan. As he stood up from his crouch, Bill opened his mouth to answer. As he stood, his foot slipped on some loose shale and he started to fall towards the lake. Salazar reached out quickly out of instinct and snagged the man by the wrist before he could fall. “Slowly,” he hissed and carefully dragged Bill back up as the cursebreaker found his footing once more. Once back on firm ground, both men breathed a sigh of relief.

“Uh, thanks,” Bill muttered with a shaken look on his face. He cleared his throat then before he ran his fingers through his long hair. “Right. Yes, I think it’s possible. If you pluck the right strand, it should send the boat back across the water even without anyone in it and it won’t disturb the tripwires in other parts of the spellweave.”

Though he did think he could trust himself to pick the correct strand, there was an easier answer. “You will go across first, then,” Salazar decided. “Once you are safely across, you can send the boat back over and I will then follow you over.”

“What about Fred and George?” Bill asked as he glanced over to his brothers.

It would take time to get them all across the lake if they all decided to go. The twins had been helpful in their endeavor to get them to the cave, but Salazar thought they would be more in danger than they would be helpful if they stayed. They were powerful wizards in their own right, but Salazar did not want to put them into danger. “They will remain near the entrance,” Salazar decided. “Far enough away to keep them in relative safety. Go ahead and make the journey over while I speak with them. Stay vigilant.”

Bill nodded in agreement and then settled himself into the boat once he had canceled his charm. As the boat started to slowly drift out over the mirrored surface of the lake, Salazar kept his eye on him as he returned to the twins. They greeted him softly at his approach. “What’s going on? Why is he going alone?” They asked him in unison, but quieted as Salazar raised his hands in a placating manner.

“The boat is enchanted to only carry one full grown wizard at a time,” he explained to them. “Bill is going over first so he can send the boat back for me.” He turned his attention back to Bill as the boat steadily floated over to the island. “Just the two of us will go over to the island. I want you to return to the entrance of the cavern.” When they tried to protest, he gave them a sharp look. “If anything were to happen, then I want you both to leave and fetch help. At the very least, if something does happen, then not all of us will be caught up in the danger. So go. Keep watch, but have your escape nearby.” They looked ready to protest more, but then went off when Salazar stared them down.

As Fred and George trudged back up towards the cavern entrance, Salazar focused his gaze on Bill. Time seemed to stretch forever as he watched the boat still steadily make its way over to the island. When Bill made it safely across, Salazar waited with bated breath as the cursebreaker brought up the spellweave again and sent the rowboat back over. When nothing else happened, he let out a controlled breath and settled in to wait once more.

As the boat settled in on the shore, Salazar stepped over to it and then stepped into it. As it pulled away from the shore, he glanced over the edge of the boat and into the murky depths of the water. Or, he tried. His ball of spell light still trailed along near his head, but the surface of the water was like a mirror as the rowboat glided along with barely a ripple. It still concerned him about what dangers might lurk in the depths of the lake. Was it a water creature of some sort? Something far more sinister? The silence and darkness of the cavern were eerie, which might have spooked a lesser man.

Thankful once he could get his feet back onto firm ground, Salazar made his way over to a stone basin that Bill stood over. The cursebreaker had his ever present wand in hand and had called forth the spellweave over the basin to study it. “There is nothing too complex,” Bill informed him with a frown. “Just that any tampering will set off the traps attached to it. Summoning will set off traps, vanishing spells will set off traps. Any sort of magical manipulation of the liquid will set off traps.” He appeared frustrated. “However, what we want seems to be at the bottom of the basin. You-Know-Who would have left a way to retrieve it as long as one figures out the riddle. He’d need to retrieve it himself.”

Salazar examined the basin a moment before he reached into a pouch at his side. “It cannot be magically manipulated, but that means that we might be able to physically interact with it.” He pulled out a small copper cup from his pouch and then held it out to Bill. “Try to scoop some out and spill it on the ground.”

“Why do you even carry that?” Bill enquired even as he still took the cup and managed to scoop up some of the liquid. He poured it on the ground carefully and breathed a sigh of relief when nothing around them happened. But the answer was not so easy for the riddle of the basin. “It refilled itself, so simply pouring it out is not going to work.”

With a sigh, Salazar pulled out a small leather pouch from the larger one. “The cup is part of my standard kit for when I leave on journeys, no matter what length,” he explained before he stepped up closer to the basin again. “So, it can be emptied, but it cannot just be dumped out. I would guess that the potion is meant to be drunk.” He opened up the little pouch and pulled out a pair of leather gloves. “However, it would be stupid to drink the potion without knowing what it is.”

“Yeah, regardless, I don’t want to drink that,” Bill said uneasily as he studied the eerily glowing sickly green potion. Salazar could only hum his agreement as he emptied the small pouch.

As he picked up a small vial, Salazar uncorked it and then filled it with a little bit of the unknown potion. He selected another small vial and added a drop to the potion. He corked it again and then gave it a quick shake. “It needs to be drunk, but it does not necessarily need to be drunk by one of us,” he stated grimly. “Magic is limited within the boundaries of the cavern, but what of transfiguration? Say, the transfiguration of a stone into an animal? The transfiguration does not have to be permanent, but just until we have emptied the basin enough to grab the object at the bottom.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Salazar could see Bill shift uneasily. “I’m not sure about the ethics of that,” he said quietly. “Especially with whatever properties that potion might have.”

Salazar watched as the potion turned a murky green and then separated. “It is a hallucinogen,” he offered as he examined the separated layers of the potion. “One to simulate pain is my guess given one of the ingredients in it. Possibly to induce visions of a sort as well.” He gave the vial another little shake. “As for animal transfiguration, one cannot create life from something that has no life. It is a temporary animation at best and the animal itself contains no soul. It is an illusion, nothing more. However, it might be enough to trick the enchantments on the basin.”

“I suppose we could try it,” Bill said reluctantly, though his wand remained loose in his hand.

As he packed up his kit, Salazar glanced over to the cursebreaker. “What is the saying? Between a rock and a hard place? However, if we do not get rid of this horcrux then we cannot get rid of the Dark Lord for good.” He tucked away the kit into his pouch and then unsheathed his wand once more. “Keep watch.” If Bill had trouble with this, then he would step forward to get it done. He told himself the same thing he had told Bill, that this would be a transfigured animal. A complex illusion and nothing more.

As he leaned down, Salazar grabbed a suitable stone and then carefully visualized the form he wanted. “Transformatio formae,” he intoned and swirled his wand in a tight circle. As he focused on the transformation, he carefully guided the magic until a wild boar stood in front of him. Perhaps it was adorable in its own way, but Salazar had always seen the destruction and danger of a wild boar.

Bill blinked at him, but Salazar froze the boar in place before it could run off. “A boar?” The redhead inquired slowly.

“Have you ever seen a man gored by the sharp tusks of a wild boar? It is hard to feel sorry for a creature that so embodies destruction,” Salazar replied flatly as he used another spell to open the boar’s mouth.

“You did mention that you spent time in the past,” Bill said slowly as he stepped up to the basin and scooped up some of the potion. He held it out to Salazar. “You did not mention when, but if you have seen men attacked by boars, then it must have been long ago.”

Salazar took the cup from Bill and gave a wry smile. “Over one thousand years,” he agreed. He could not help the chuckle that escaped him when Bill blinked owlishly at him. He sobered then as he faced the boar and carefully poured the cup of potion down the transfigured animal’s throat. He waited a moment and watched as the animal’s eyes rolled, but luckily could not do more. “Did it refill?” He asked Bill as he glanced over to the basin.

At the question, Bill quickly looked down at the basin and sucked in a sharp breath. “No. It worked!” He glanced over to the boar with a grimace, but then held out his hand to take the cup back from Salazar. Methodically, they passed the cup back and forth as Bill filled the cup so Salazar could feed it to the transfigured boar.

Once they reached the bottom, Salazar swiped the locket out of the bottom of the basin and dropped it into a prepared containment box. Something about the locket felt wrong, but he did not have time to ponder on it. Now that they had gotten what they needed, it was better if they got out of there quickly. So he canceled the enchantment on the boar and it immediately dropped down to the stone floor with a clatter. Beside them, the basin rumbled and then suddenly it had refilled. Bill let out a breath and headed for the boat. “Same deal? I’ll go across first and then send the boat back for you.”

It seemed almost anticlimactic as Bill made it safely to the other side. It was then though that everything seemed to go wrong. As the boat made its way back over to the island, the eerie silence of the cavern was suddenly broken as an unearthly screech echoed off the craggy walls. Salazar whipped around and raised his wand as ghastly forms suddenly started to rise up from the water along the shore. “Go!” He cried out to the others. “Get out of here!” He was not sure if they would listen, foolhardy Gryffindors that they were, but he did not have the time to worry. Skeletal creatures had risen up from the waters of the lake as many of them screeched, their fleshless hands outreached to grasp at him. Inferi.

It was more instinct than conscious thought that brought forth the magic needed to keep the inferi at bay. “Uisge teine!” Called down like rain, fire started to fall around Salazar while he could feel the heat of the fire lick at his exposed skin. If there was one thing he could remember about inferi, it was that they were vulnerable to fire. The chilling cries that had echoed through the chamber suddenly reached a crescendo and impacted harshly against his eardrums. The screams were painful but, as he whipped the fire around him into a frenzy, it drove back the inferi. They dove back into the water to escape as Salazar continued to push the fire outward. It was only once he was sure that the animated dead had slunk back beneath the water that he let the fire dissipate.

Winded, Salazar warily let his arms fall from where he had raised both of them to direct the wild fire. Without the roar of the flames and the deathly echo of the dead, the cavern was almost too quiet. Salazar could only hear his own heavy breaths. It was broken by a shout. Salazar’s head whipped around and he froze when he sat the Weasley men at the shoreline. He snarled softly to see them there, that they had not run like he had ordered them to do. Idiots the lot of them.

It was then that he realized that the boat had been a casualty of the inferi and fire. Alone on the island, he snarled again and cursed angrily. It had gone so well so far, now he was stuck on a blasted island in the middle of thrice damned inferi infested lake. He tried to apparate, but nothing happened just as he had suspected. He could try to dismantle the wards through sheer magical force, but they were likely interlaced with triggers with other traps or even the inferi once more. The anchor was likely not even close to the island anyways.

Salazar stopped and took a deep breath. He had to think about this logically. He had to get over the lake, but he had to wonder what triggered the inferi as they were the largest obstacle. The water could not be disturbed, yet they had made it safely across the lake in a boat. And, now that he knew that they were there, he could be prepared for them. So, he gauged the distance before he stepped up to the shore. With a deep breath, he steadied himself and then pointed his wand at the rippling water. It had not fully settled yet and lapped at the rocky shore. “Reothadh domhainn,” he commanded and kept a steady pull on his magic to freeze himself a bridge of ice across the water. He did not want to pull from the wild magic of the cavern, afraid that it would be tainted by the army of inferi in the watery depths.

He was lucky when the inferi were not disturbed again, perhaps scared off by the threat of fire for now. Still, it was a great drain on his magic to reach the otherside. His legs shook as he finally cut off the flow of magic, but the twins were there to catch him. “We need to get out of here,” they said urgently. Salazar could only nod his head in agreement as they led the way out of the cavern. Once out of the cave, Salazar felt like he could finally breathe. It was then that George wrapped his arm around his waist while Fred pulled away. The dark haired wizard did not protest as the redhead disapparated them away to Hogwarts.

When they appeared before the gates, Salazar tried to pull away from George but stumbled on weak legs. He scowled as George caught him around the waist again and gave the redhead a glare as if he dared him to say anything. Smartly, George remained quiet and started to lead him up the path. Fred and Bill followed behind as they were just as quiet. Salazar was grateful for that.

When they arrived at the entrance hall doors, Luna waited for them once more. She was dressed the same and Salazar had the passing thought that she had remained where she was, unmoved, the entire time they were gone. Maybe he was more tired than he thought.

Luna approached them and her warm hands cupped his face. “Oh, my dear Herrick. Come with me to the infirmary.” He wanted to protest, but she did not budge. Her expression was serious and she kept his face in her hands until he finally murmured an agreement. Luckily, the infirmary she led him to was his own in the dungeons. There, she fed him a number of potions that helped chase away some of his exhaustion. She also spread salve over some burns that he had not noticed before now. She wrapped them gently before she stepped back and gave the wizard a smile. “There you are. You need sleep, but you want to see the horcrux, don’t you?”

“You know me too well,” Salazar said as the twins jumped up onto the bed on either side of him. Bill was nearby, but he leaned forward a bit. Salazar reached into his bag and pulled out the containment box. He carefully opened it up, but frowned when nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The locket within the box seemed ordinary and unmagical. Still, he glanced over to Bill. “Something is not right here. Can you take a look for curses?”

Nothing happened. Bill used several different spells to try to find anything, but eventually he handed the box back over to Salazar. He shook his head. “There’s nothing,” he said in confusion. “There is the normal amount of magical residue that is normal for a wizarding heirloom, but the item itself is not enchanted.”

Just as confused, Salazar lifted it out of the box and inspected it. Why would the Dark Lord put so many protections into a locket like this? He turned it around in his hand before he noticed the latch. Curious, he popped it open and stared as a folded piece of parchment fell out. He set the locket aside and then opened the enclosed parchment to find a note.

“To the Dark Lord,” Salazar read out loud. “‘I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.’” He frowned down at the signature. “It is signed simply as R.A.B."

With an aggravated sigh, Salazar looked up at the others. “Now we have to find whoever this R.A.B. is, see if they truly were able to destroy the horcrux.” He did not have high hopes that the individual was still alive as it was likely that they had ended up a victim of the inferi. Still, they had managed to switch the horcruxes so there might have been an accomplice who would have known whether the horcrux had been destroyed. If not, they would know where it was so it could be destroyed.

“I think we should take it to Professor Dumbledore,” Bill said after a moment as he took the parchment from Salazar and looked it over. “He has been headmaster for decades. He might recognize the handwriting or the initials. Or something.”

Salazar took the parchment back and then stood up. “It would be our only lead, I suppose.” He took a breath and nodded to Bill. “Go get some rest. Go be with your Fleur.”

“We are going with you,” the twins piped in before Salazar had a chance to try to dismiss them.

He gave them a look, but did not have the energy to fight it. He gave in with a sigh and picked up the locket. “Yes, alright,” he said with a sigh. “Come on then. We can visit him and then go have lunch in the kitchens.”

“After that, you should go to bed, dear Herrick,” Luna interrupted, her cloak folded over her arms. “We can handle the rest of the day without you. Hermione and your other twins already work on the golden box.” She gave him a smile. “I will meet you down in the kitchens.” Bill had already left, so she left as well to leave Salazar alone with Fred and George.

“Strange one that one is,” Fred said as he pulled off his own cloak. “But a riot.” George snickered next to him, his own cloak already bundled up in his arms.

With a roll of his eyes, Salazar picked up his cloak from off of the infirmary bed where he had laid it so Luna could tend to him. “We can leave our cloaks and things in my office, if you like,” he said then as he led the way out of the infirmary. Whether or not the twins wanted to leave their things, Salazar wanted to leave his. His office was along the way anyways.

Once he had dropped off his cloak and his bag, Salazar led the way to the Headmaster’s office. When they found that the password had been changed again, Fred and George enjoyed the riddle it took to find the new one. By that, he meant that they spouted out every candy name they could think of until one of them was right. As the gargoyle leapt out of the way, they gave a cheer and then started for the stairs. Salazar beat them to it and led the way up to the headmaster’s office.

When he opened the door, he stopped just beside it after he had stepped through. Dumbledore was not alone. Black gave him a glare when he spotted him, but Salazar ignored him. “Ah, my apologies, Headmaster. I was not aware that you had company. We can come back later.”

Before he could turn around to leave, Dumbledore raised a hand. “No, it is alright. How did it go?”

Salazar glanced over to Black but then approached the desk. Fred and George filed in after him, but stayed back. As he approached the desk, Salazar pulled out the locket and then held it out to Dumbledore. “We made it into the cavern and made it over the lake that it contained. We figured out its riddles.” When Dumbledore looked at him searchingly and then looked at the locket, Salazar gave a grim smile. “However, someone else got to it first. That is just a normal locket. Old family heirloom, but not what we were hoping to find.” He held out the folded parchment then. “This was contained inside, but we were curious if you might recognize the initials R.A.B.”

“What did you just say?” Black croaked suddenly and cut off anything else Salazar might have said. He turned then to look questioningly at the older wizard. “The initials,” Black demanded. “What were they?”

Confused by the sudden turn, Salazar frowned. “R.A.B.,” he repeated slowly. “Do you recognize it, Black?”

The man did not answer him though and instead abruptly stood from his chair. He approached the headmaster’s desk and reached for the locket that Dumbledore had set down. “This was Reggie’s,” Black breathed out, a stricken look on his face. “Mother gave it to him the Yule before I went to Hogwarts, said it was some family heirloom.” He dropped down into the chair again as if he had suddenly lost the ability to stand. “He was my younger brother. Regulus Arcturus Black. I called him Reggie.” He shook his head then. “In 1979, from what I understand, he was murdered by Riddle.”

Black suddenly snorted and looked up at Dumbledore as he seemed to ignore Salazar. “He was murdered, more likely on the madman’s orders as I doubt Reggie was ever really important enough to be killed by Riddle personally. Unless he made him angry enough, I suppose. From what I understand, Reggie got in where he wanted but then panicked when he realized what Riddle really was all about. Reggie tried to back out but, well, you don't just leave. You don’t just turn your back on the Dark Lord. Never actually knew what happened to him, though."

Something tugged in his chest, something that was still Harry Potter. “He died a hero,” he said quietly. “He died with the hope that the Dark Lord would become mortal.” When Black turned on him with sharp eyes, Salazar met him calmly. “Your brother was caught up by Tom Riddle’s honeyed words. A lot of the Dark Lord’s earliest political stance actually makes sense from a distance. He was a charismatic man and knew what nerves to prod to earn the response he wanted. But your brother finally saw him for what he really was. Instead of just standing by, he risked his life to give others a fighting chance. For that, he is a hero.”

Black’s eyes dropped down to the locket in his hand. He clasped his fist around it before he stood up. “Thanks,” he muttered gruffly.

Before the man could make an attempt at an escape, Salazar clasped his hands behind his back and gave a slight bow. “I only speak the truth, Black.” He paused then as the older wizard’s eyes found him again. “I know the memories brought up must be painful, but I need to ask. Regulus did not make it out of the cave alive, however he did manage to switch the locket as a decoy. He had to have had an accomplice, but I do not think it would have been a human. Possibly a house elf.”

“Why do you say that?” Dumbledore interjected as he placed Regulus’ note on his desk.

As he turned his attention to the old headmaster, Salazar gathered his thoughts. “There were anti-apparition spells within the cavern,” he explained. “I tried myself to breach them, but they are strong. House elves have a magic different from wizards, so one would have been able to slip through the wards on the cave. That is my first theory.”

“Kreacher,” Black said flatly.

Salazar blinked and turned some so he could look at Black once more. “Pardon?”

Black pulled his gaze from far away and turned his dark eyes on Salazar. “Kreacher. He was the family house elf. A bit mad after being subjected to my mother at the end of her life.” His lips curled and he could not quite hide the pain in his eyes. Salazar decided not to pry. “He always had a soft spot for Reggie in particular. Reggie trusted him, too. He would have given the object to Kreacher to destroy or hide.”

Oh, how lucky they had been. “Are you able to call Kreacher?” As a Black, it was logical to think that he might.

But the older wizard shook his head with bared teeth. “Hardly. The little cretin doesn’t listen to the black sheep of the family.” His lips twisted in a parody of a grin, perhaps in reaction to his own joke. “However, I am the sole survivor of the main bloodline so I’ve inherited everything. That means I have access to the old Black townhouse where Kreacher still lives.”

Salazar tried not to sigh. Of course. “If you would put up with me for a little longer, then I would like to request invitation to your ancestral home so that I might speak with Kreacher.”

Black did not seem terribly thrilled with the idea, but he gave a grudging nod. Before Salazar could make any plans though, the twins finally stepped forward and wrapped their arms around his waist. Salazar nearly hexed them, but refrained even with how much it tempted him. “Is there something I can help you with?” He bit out, irritable.

The two did not respond to him, but instead they gave both Black and Dumbledore mirroring grins. “Everything is of the utmost importance, of course,” they echoed each other. “But what dear Herrick fails to mention is how he fought off a hoard of inferi with fire and walked a bridge of ice over the lake to reach safety. Luna has ordered him to rest.” Salazar could feel the tips of his ears pink at the incredulous stare that Black tossed his way.

“Yes, quite,” Salazar said stiffly before he fought off Fred and George’s grip. “A few days of rest would do me good. Perhaps we could make plans for the twenty-second or the twenty-third, Black?” He really did need a few days to rest, but then he wanted to wait until after Yule. Not too long after, but he could enjoy the celebrations and worry about other details later.

Black was silent for a long moment and Salazar took a moment to muse on the thought that this was the longest that Black had been somewhat civil to him. He had even thanked him! He tried not to smirk as it would only set Black off again. Salazar didn’t want to break the tenuous peace. “The twenty-second is fine,” Black said finally as he broke Salazar from his thoughts. “Just you, Evans.”

Salazar was careful not to roll his eyes. “Just me,” he agreed. “I do not expect it to be a long visit, but I thank you for the cooperation in this, Black. It will bring us one step closer to the defeat of the Dark Lord.”

“I’m doing this for Reggie, not you,” Black shot back sharply, but Salazar tried not to take offense from it.

“Of course. You still have my thanks.” Salazar turned to Dumbledore and carefully did not scowl at the amused look on the aged face. “I have nothing else to report, Headmaster, so if you will excuse me, I will no longer intrude upon your visit with Mister Black. I have standing orders to rest, after all.” He took back the parchment with Regulus’ note so he could show it to the others, then he let the twins herd him out the door. He had an appointment with lunch and then his bed.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

“Of course. You still have my thanks.” Salazar turned to Dumbledore and carefully did not scowl at the amused look on the aged face. “I have nothing else to report, Headmaster, so if you will excuse me, I will no longer intrude upon your visit with Mister Black. I have standing orders to rest, after all.” He took back the parchment with Regulus’ note so he could show it to the others, then he let the twins herd him out the door. He had an appointment with lunch and then his bed.

Chapter Sixteen

On the morning of Yule, Hermione invaded their early morning training to drag Skoll away towards the castle. As she led the man away, Salazar watched in amusement at the constant stream of chatter she kept up. Blaise stepped up to his shoulder then and smirked a bit. “You know, it’s the happiest I’ve seen Hermione in a long time.” He paused then before his smirk grew just a bit wider. “I never even imagined I’d be calling her by her first name either.” Blaise trailed off then before he snorted softly and glanced over his shoulder at Draco. “I especially never pictured Draco and her getting along.”

“I have a vague memory of Hermione punching Draco,” Salazar said quietly, his brow furrowed as he tried to recall the foggy memory. He was startled out of his attempts at recollection by Blaise’s bark of laughter. It drew the attention of the others as well, but Salazar waved them off.

Blaise smirked a bit and hoisted up the sword he held. “Oh, yes. Draco bitched about it for weeks.”

“Bitched about what exactly?” Draco suddenly interrupted, his tone icy as he appeared on Salazar’s other side. He adjusted his grip around his own sword, a weapon he had recently started to pick up. He had confessed to Salazar that he had taken some rapier lessons as a child, but had not been much interested in it. Many of the instincts were the same, but he had to adjust the form he used. Salazar thought he did well, all things considered.

With a sigh, Salazar took several steps away as the two men squared off. “You bitched about Hermione punching you when we were in Third year,” Blaise replied easily, his tone taunting. Draco’s face flared red in an embarrassed blush before he lunged at Blaise. Salazar kept a close eye on them as they clashed and watched as they both threw barbs that eventually devolved into petty name-calling.

Salazar rolled his eyes. “Draco! Shift your feet! Blaise! Stop overextending!” He barked out quick orders. The two younger wizards ignored him, but he could see Draco readjust his footing and Blaise’s next swing was kept in closer.

“They both are progressing well,” Einar said from beside Salazar after a few moments. The wizard barked out another sharp order to the two younger men before he glanced quickly to see that Fenrir had taken over Hati’s lessons as Skoll had left. “You progress as well. Your blade has greater strength behind it,” the elf continued.

Though his eyes never left the two sparring wizards, Salazar allowed himself an amused smile. “Do you remember the skinny little twig I was?” He asked softly before he raised his voice once more to correct Draco’s stance.

“You had just had a growth spurt shortly before you met me,” Einar agreed. “You had not yet grown into your limbs and were rather gangly. While you have some innate command over your limbs, you were somewhat awkward. Finally now, you have finally grown into your body. You have grown into your name.”

Salazar’s lips twisted some and his jaw clenched. “I am bound by prophecy, so I have had no choice but to live up to the expectations.”

There was a stretch of silence between the two of them as Blaise finally disarmed Draco and pinned him to the ground. When they parted, Blaise helped Draco stand up and then the two put their equipment away. Salazar let them be as they had not stopped their jabs at each other even as they headed for the castle. “You speak of a prophecy greater than even the words that Luna has spoken,” Einar said finally as he broke the silence between the two of them.

“Yes,” Salazar replied quietly. “But let us enjoy Jöl tonight. Tomorrow I meet with Sirius Black to see about the locket. If all goes well, I will have another soul shard to present to Hel. The day after, perhaps you would join me with a few others to discuss the Prophecy. I have had so much on my mind that I have not put much thought to it. Perhaps it is time that I should. It is simple in lyric, but I do not want to have missed anything crucial.”

Einar watched him quietly for a moment before he inclined his head. “You can count on me to be there,” he agreed before he walked away with a quiet farewell. Salazar watched him leave for only a moment, but then moved to collect the equipment. Hati and Fenrir had disappeared, likely off on a run to stretch their wolven legs. Salazar wanted to check on how Hermione and Skoll had progressed with the golden chest, but wanted a chance to have breakfast and clean up first.

Once he had eaten and had a chance to shower, Salazar made his way up to the Room. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see that the cursed box lay open on the table. “You managed to open it,” he observed as he shut the door behind him.

Hermione jumped a bit as Skoll only looked over his shoulder at Salazar. “We did,” he agreed and nodded over to the shut containment box. “We were able to unweave the various curses once we were able to pinpoint the threads that were the weakest. Not unlike the unraveling of a knitted sweater.” He frowned a bit then and leaned forward to grab the containment box. “The object inside is a ring. Gold band, black stone. However, it seems to be cursed as well. Looks to be a flesh-rotting hex or a petrifying curse, possibly some frankensteined combination of the two. It’s woven in with yet another compulsion charm. Of course.”

As he approached the table, Salazar reached out to take the box. He touched the lid in a sequence to uncloud the lid so he could see the horcrux inside. “So, a compulsion to wear the ring, which activates the final curse.”

“Yes,” Hermione said wearily. “If we weren’t so cautious, it might have caught us off guard.” She gave Salazar a bright smile then. “Still, we finally got the chest open and free of curses. Now that we already dismantled the other curses, the final one should not be a problem at all. It only really would have been a problem if we had let our guard down. We were just about to dismantle the final curses.”

Salazar held the box back out to Skoll, who took it and set it back down on the table. “I will leave you to it then,” he told them softly. “I am going to fetch Hati and then I shall return.” Skoll gave him a grim nod.

Perhaps it was lucky that they had managed to break the curses on Yule. The veil between the material plane and those of the dead was at its thinnest once more. They had already long prepared a ritual for this moment, but the timing of it meant that they would hopefully reach Hel more easily. Hati and Skoll were to assist him with the ritual, so Salazar went to go find Hati so they could gather their prepared materials.

When he found Hati, it was in the twins’ room. The man gave Salazar a curious look as he answered the knock at the door. “Hermione and Skoll have broken the enchantments,” Salazar said as soon as the door opened. “They have a few final loose ends to finish, but then we will be able to go ahead with the ritual.”

Hati immediately stepped from his room and closed the door behind him. “You want to do the ritual now?”

“As soon as possible,” Salazar agreed as he turned on his heel. He knew that Hati would follow him to his office. There, the wizard unlocked a cabinet and removed a basket that was inside. “Take this out to the location we prepared. Skoll and I will meet you down there.” Hati nodded in agreement as he accepted the basket from Salazar.

Once the man had gone, Salazar made his way back up to the Room. Skoll stood up from his spot and picked up the containment box. “We removed the rest of the curses, but there is still the danger of the horcrux itself,” he said. “But we’re ready.”

Salazar nodded and then turned to Hermione. He gave her a small bow. “Hermione. Thank you for all of your hard work.” He straightened then and offered a smile. “The Yule celebration is tonight. Rest until then. You deserve a day off.”

He took the box from Skoll then and motioned with his head. “Hati is waiting for us.” He wanted to get the ritual over with so they did not have to worry about it later. He would potentially have another horcrux in a couple of days, so he did not want to have two horcruxes in too close proximity to each other. Also, why wait? The sooner another soul shard was in Hel’s hands, the better. So Skoll said goodbye to Hermione and followed Salazar from the castle.

The loch that Hogwarts overlooked was fed by a handful of streams, a couple of them to the north of the castle. One of the streams flowed towards the lock through a path through the gardens and by the greenhouses. It originated somewhere in the depths of the Forbidden Forest. Skoll and Salazar exited the castle onto the grounds before they stepped from the path and headed north. They passed the old garden wall and continued on past the Whomping Willow, though they were sure to give it a wide berth. When they reached the still flowing stream and its frozen overhangs, they crossed over the bridge and then followed its course into the Forest a short ways until they came to a clearing amongst the copse of trees.

Hati already waited for them. He had set up an altar and had set out their tools on a nearby table. Salazar took a deep breath and then conjured up a small table to keep the horcrux separate from their tools. He nodded over to the twins then and walked over to the table that Hati had set up. “Ready?” He called out to them.

“Ready,” they echoed and followed him over to the table. There a basin had been set up with some water. Salazar added some fresh herbs and then washed his hands. He splashed some onto his face as well before he moved to the side so Skoll could take his place. Once they had all cleaned themselves, Salazar grabbed the bundle of runestaves he had created for the purpose of hallowing the circle for their ritual. The twins remained silent as Salazar drove each stave into the ground to create the circle. As he drove the last one in, Skoll stepped over to the table and picked up an oak branch with dried leaves that had been prepared for a torch. He held it out to Salazar, who took it.

Carefully, Salazar gathered up his magic and then cupped a bundle of the dried leaves on the end of the branch. He breathed out then and carefully lit the end of the makeshift torch. He waited for the fire to catch before he stepped close to the edge of the circle. Fire was cleansing, so it would cleanse their circle. “May the Gods protect us,” he called out and lifted the burning oak branch. He moved on to the next point and raised the branch once more. “May our ancestors inspire us,” he intoned next. “May our deeds define us,” was the next. “May our prayers be always heard,” he said at the final point.

Salazar approached the altar then and used the torch to light the black candles that littered the front of the altar. As he lit them, he spoke the last of the hallowing. “May the spirits who are watching be kind and understanding.” He stood in front of the altar again and raised the branch once more so it was held aloft in front of him. “May these words define the next moments to come. As I will it, so let it be.” He settled the branch into a holder amongst the candles.

Hati held out a goblet of wine to Salazar silently. The wizard nodded to him, but said nothing to him as he accepted it. Cupping it in his hands, Salazar raised it up. “Hel Lokadóttir. Queen of Helheim. Caretaker of the Dead. Our Lady in Blue, Mother of Death. Before you we come to you with an offering of wine.” He set it on the altar and accepted a plate of apples from Hati. “We come to you with an offering from the earth.” He set it down next to the wine. Normally they might have asked for blessings or guidance, but that was not the goal that morning.

Now was the hard part. Salazar drew in a deep breath and took a set back from the altar. “We come before you with the greatest sincerity, to honour a bargain that I have made.” The ritual did not have to be long for this part. They just had to attract Hel’s attention. “I traveled to your realm in search of answers, in which we struck a bargain. Today, we bring before you my side of the pact. Our greatest offering is the soul shard of Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

They waited then with bated breath for nearly a minute before suddenly the apples on the altar started to wither and rot at an unnatural rate. Salazar could feel Hati and Skoll shift from behind him, but he carefully did not look back at them. He wondered, with their sensitive noses, what they could smell in that moment. He did not have time to wonder long though as suddenly Hel stood before him, almost too close for comfort.

“Salazar Slytherin,” she whispered with the duality of her voice. “You honour our bargain.” She tilted her head curiously as she eyed the twins that stood behind him. A smile then tugged on the side of her face that was beautiful and full of youth. “Sons of Fenrir,” she greeted them before her eyes slid once more to Salazar. “The grandsons of Loki. To stand before the daughter of Loki.”

Salazar wondered if he ever wanted to meet Loki face to face, what he might say about the comparisons others always seemed to make of him to the deity. He did not want to be compared to a God. And it unsettled him to be called a grandfather in name to Hati and Skoll. That didn't sit right, he did not think of them as family in that manner. But Salazar pushed the thoughts away and lowered his eyes. “Raise your head, Salazar Slytherin. It is not many who have the courage to bargain with me like this,” Hel told the wizard, who startled and quickly straightened. “You brought me a soul shard as promised.”

Without a word, Salazar held out his hand. Luckily, Hati seemed to know what he wanted. The two had started to learn the language, but they were far from fluent in it yet. Still, he picked up the containment box and then placed it on Salazar’s outstretched palm. Salazar would thank him for the help later. Instead, he opened up the box and offered it to Hel.

The deity stared down at the box curiously before she reached down to pluck the ring from the box. “How curious,” she said quietly. “When you came to my realm, Salazar Slytherin, you offered to Móðguðr a soul shard. It was one of many you told me.” She looked up at Salazar then. “There is little that escapes my notice when it comes to my realm and its vast green hills. It's grand hall. However.” She paused then as she held up the ring. “In the corners of my realm, I found another soul shard.”

Salazar breathed in sharply. “When I was twelve, I defeated a horcrux without knowing what it truly was. I honestly did not know what would happen to the shard, had not thought about it. I admit that I am surprised that his soul would find your realm, honoured Lady of Helheim.” It meant that Riddle had believed that the realm existed, that he might end up there when he passed. If he thought about it, he could not be so surprised. The Dark Lord had sought out Helheim for the whereabouts of Tyrfing after all.

He looked up to see Hel’s eyes on him. “I will reunite Tom Marvolo Riddle’s soul,” she told him. “Bring all of the shards to me and I will heal the cracks he has created, so that he might have a second chance one day.” She lowered her eyes then and suddenly broke the stone on the ring from its band. She closed her delicate hand around the golden band before she reached out with her skeletal one. “Hold out your hand, Salazar Slytherin.”

Though he was hesitant to do so, Salazar held out his hand. Hel did not touch him, but she dropped the stone from the ring into the wizard’s hand. He blinked in confusion, but did not say a word. He hoped Hel would explain and he was not disappointed. “I will take this shard with me, Salazar Slytherin. However, that stone is a powerful artifact and so I shall leave it to you. I do not think Arawn would appreciate it if I took one of his Hallows. He was far too fond of those brothers.”

He had absolutely no idea what Hel meant about that and wondered if it was yet another thing to be worried about. He dearly hoped not as he had enough to worry about. “I will keep it safe,” Salazar said instead and carefully tucked it away into a pouch so he could study it later. “We have a lead on two more soul shards.” Salazar said then as he turned his eyes back up to Hel, though he was careful not to meet her intense gaze. “I hope to have another horcrux for you in another day or so.”

When he told her that he would have another horcrux for her soon, Hel tilted her head slightly and then held out her hand. “I had not known if you would keep your end of the bargain,” she began. “In the future, you do not have to go to such lengths for me. Simply call for me with an offering. I will come, dear child.” She then suddenly disappeared as the candle flames all went out in a single instant.

“I don’t think I have ever been so terrified,” Skoll breathed out with wide eyes. Hati grunted his agreement from next to him. Salazar could only stare at the altar quietly while he brought himself back under control. Hel’s presence carried such a heaviness that it bore down on him and cemented him in place. With its sudden absence, it made him unbalanced.

When he finally felt like he could breathe deeply once more, Salazar finally turned. “We should get cleaned up,” he told the twins. “Thank you for your help.”

“Not like we did much,” Hati said as he flashed a grin. Skoll rolled his eyes and elbowed him in the gut. The two men broke away from each other though and started to clear up their supplies. Salazar walked the edge of the circle and carefully opened the circle back up as he removed the staves while he whispered beneath his breath.

Once all the items had been gathered back up, Salazar took the basket and tucked it beneath his arm. “Thank you,” he told them again. “Let us head back to the castle then.” He could use a good bath and to relax after the ritual with Hel. He wanted to take a look at the stone too. There was still plenty of time until tonight when they would celebrate the first night of Yule. It would be a late night as they would have to do the same thing as they did with Samhainn, but he would not have it any other way given the circumstances. If they could not celebrate publicly, they would do what they could with what they had available.

“Actually, we wanted to go for a run together,” Hati piped up. “We all went on a run as a group this morning before training, right? But Skoll and I wanted to run on four feet rather than two. We’ll see you at lunch or dinner! If not, then tonight.” They both clapped him on the shoulder as they passed by him before they disappeared off into the trees.

Salazar shook his head and then let out a soft sigh. The rest of the trip back down to his quarters was spent in silence. Once there, he put the basket of supplies away and then dropped down into the chair behind his desk. Before he could bring out the stone that Hel had broken from the ring and given to him sans horcrux, a squawk distracted him. He looked up and smiled when he saw Troels. “Good morning, my friend. I apologize that I did not see you when I came in. Did you have a good flight?”

The raven hopped down from the perch he had made on the top of one of the cabinets. Salazar gently stroked the top of his head before he untied the small pouch from the raven’s leg. “Thank you for your help,” Salazar said and stroked Troels’ head again. “Go find Heimir. He is in the bedroom and can summon some food for you.” The door to his bedroom was cracked open so Troels would be able to get into the other room easily enough. Salazar had enchanted a bell attached to Heimir’s perch that, when rung, would alert the house elves to bring him food and water.

As the raven took off, Salazar opened up the pouch that had been on the creature’s legs. As he loosened the ties, magic that had been over the pouch dissipated so that the pouch expanded to its original size and weight. He paused and then smiled as he pulled out a letter along with a wrapped package. He opened the letter from Hilde first.

“Herrick,

I hope that Troels does not get waylaid and he comes to you on time. Whether or not he does, I want to wish you a blessed Jöl. May Sól’s light burn brightly for you in the darkness of winter, and may she light the way as the sun slowly returns to our lives.

Now, that being said, I hope you enjoy the gift that I included for you. I worried over what I could give you as I had already given you the amulet. I hope it has served you well! For Jöl, we plan to have a grand gathering here at Fyrkat. We had more snow recently and most of us do not want to travel too far from home even with the marvels of magical travel. There will be an offering, of course, but then there will be drinking and feasting. There will probably be gift giving as well, though I only have gifts planned for a few friends and my parents. You will have to tell me how your celebration goes!

We are making progress in gathering warriors for our warband, but I do not want to give too much away. It will not be until the new year that we will meet again, but I do hope that I will see you soon.

Take care, Herrick, and have a blessed Jöl.

Hilde Eiriksdottir”

It was a short letter, but it sounded like Hilde was likely very busy as of late with preparations. He was eager to see her again, see the army that she brought with her. He would also need to finally tell Dumbledore about it. The Headmaster would likely be torn about it, in all honestly. He would welcome more help against the Dark Lord’s army, but the Northern communities were much different culturally. The community in the British Isles had not been so different long ago, though still had their differences. But those differences had grown, so Salazar expected there would be tensions that would arise.

“Luckily, the grounds are large enough to house a camp,” he muttered out loud as he set the letter aside and then picked up the wrapped package that Hilde had sent him. He carefully opened it to find a mix of candied nuts. Nestled amongst the nuts was a single perfect orange, likely traded from some other wizarding community. Salazar plucked it out of the box and inspected it with a smile. “Thank you, Hilde,” he said out loud.

He could have set the orange aside to eat it later, but why wait? He took his time, so that he might savour his gift from Hilde. He could tell her just how good it tasted. He smirked a bit as he popped the last slice into his mouth and then vanished the pieces of the peel scattered on his desk. As he slowly chewed the last of the citrus fruit, he reached into his pouch and pulled out the stone that had been attached to the ring. He held it in his palm, not afraid to handle it as Hel had not seemed too concerned when she had dropped it into his bare palm. It had not hurt him yet either.

The stone was small and could be easily misplaced, though it was large for a setting stone. It was maybe the size of a thumbprint. The stone itself appeared to be a rainbow obsidian, polished down to a perfect oval and no imperfections. When held up against a light, Salazar noticed a deeply embedded symbol within the depths of the stone that glowed with the light even through the dense stone. It was not one that he recognized, a triangle that enclosed both a circle and a line. It was not a runic symbol, but must have some sort of meaning for it to be etched into the obsidian.

As he dropped it back into his palm, Salazar hummed thoughtfully. He absently rolled it in his palm as he considered the few clues he had. Hel had mentioned Arawn. Even though faith in this deity had originated in the realms that had united to form Wales, belief in Arawn and the rest of his pantheon had spread through the wizarding community of the rest of the British Isles until the Northern communities had brought their own faith. Of all the various realms of the dead, Arawn was lord over Annwn. Tales spoke of him as a just and fair leader of those in his realm, both virtuous and Guardian of Lost Souls. Both the Northern communities and the British communities had tales of the Wild Hunt that rode around both Samhainn and Yule. Arawn rode in the Wild Hunt along with his Hounds, so he would ride tonight.

“Hir yw'r dydd a hir yw'r nos, a hir yw aros Arawn,” he murmured absently, his Welsh a little rusty. Long is the day and long is the night, and long is the waiting of Arawn.

“Rwy'n gweld eich bod wedi dod o hyd i un o fy Hallows,” a voice broke Salazar from his thoughts and he instinctively closed his hand around the stone in his hand. His head shot up and he stopped short when he spotted the figure that now stood in front of his desk. The figure was obscured by a dark cloak that draped over them with many folds and hid everything beneath. The hems of the cloak seemed to fade away into an unearthly smoke. Salazar could not see the figure’s face, but he was crowned by a circlet of golden antlers.

Once the figure’s presence finally seemed to sink in, Salazar quickly stood to his feet. “Arglwydd Arawn,” he greeted as he gave a small bow. “What have I done to deserve this honour?” He asked slowly as he tried to recall his lessons on Welsh. It was not a language he was fully fluent in as it was the least used of the languages he knew.

“You called me here,” Arawn told him, the deity’s voice a deep one with an eerie rasp. “The stone you carry in your hand there. It carries a portion of my power, gifted to one Cadmus Peverell.”

Salazar opened his hand and looked down at the too innocent stone in his hand. “A portion of your power,” he repeated slowly as he mulled over the words. “Something that has to do with the dead.”

Arawn was silent a moment and Salazar had no way to know the deity’s thoughts. It made him hold his breath in anticipation. Arawn had the same heavy and powerful aura that Hel had, though the feel of it was not identical. “Cadmus Peverell sought to reunite with a lost love that had already entered Annwn,” the deity suddenly spoke. “He petitioned me to return her to him.”

When Arawn said nothing more, Salazar looked down at the stone in his hand. “There is nothing that can return the dead to life. Not even the gods have that power,” he said quietly. “Souls can be reborn, but cannot be returned to life as they once were. There is always a price.”

“Yes,” Arawn agreed. “I gave to him that stone and broke off a piece of my power, to give him the closest I could to what he had petitioned me for. He could recall her spirit to him as long as her soul had not yet been reborn.”

Salazar frowned a bit. “Souls who have moved on to the otherworlds are not meant to be called back. To be forced back against their will must be painful.”

“Is that not the mark of men? To think selfishly,” Arawn responded.

The deity’s words surprised a snort out of Salazar. Arawn was not wrong. “I can see the artifact’s worth, though it is something to be used sparingly,” Salazar said finally. He then gave a wry smile. “I am not above other men.”

Arawn tilted his head a little. “It belongs in no other hand, Salazar Slytherin. Harry Potter. You were mine in another life, another world.” The deity was suddenly gone and Salazar felt like he could breathe again. That had certainly been unexpected. He also didn’t want to think about the deity’s parting words too much either.

As he slowly relaxed again, Salazar dropped back down into his chair. He stared down at the stone in his hand before he closed his fingers around it. He was tempted to use it, to try to speak with Godric or even Cayden. To get some answers. However, he could only imagine that the conversations would be difficult and he did not want to ruin his day. So he opened his desk and found a small linen pouch. Once the stone was safely tucked away, he was on his feet once more and he took the pouch into his bedroom. He then hid it in a chest that was filled with other trinkets important to him. Best to let it be for now.

As he turned away, Salazar took a breath. It was midday now, but so much had already happened. He wanted to rest until it was time for the Yule feast in the Room. However, it was probably the better plan to let the Headmaster know that they had taken care of another horcrux. It was likely though that Dumbledore was at lunch however, so Salazar debated whether or not he wanted to head to the Great Hall to find the old man. Eventually, he decided that it was likely the best place to find Dumbledore.

But first a bath was in order. Eolas joined him in the water as he lazily rested across Salazar’s shoulders. His tail absently trailed through the water as Salazar gently stroked his head every so often. They spent the bath in mostly companionable silence, though Eolas made his usual quips about being forgotten and abandoned. Once Salazar finished his bath, he gifted Eolas a charmed pillow that would keep him warm in the chilly castle. The serpent had happily curled up on it near the charmed window. It had started to snow, Salazar noted as he left for the Great Hall.

“You have the feel of death upon you,” Luna’s voice broke the silence as Salazar stepped out into the entrance hall from the dungeon stairs. Luckily there was no one else about and her voice had been quiet. Salazar offered his arm to her, which she took with a smile. “Hel has visited you, left her mark upon you. But she is not the only one I sense.”

Salazar nodded as he slowly led Luna off towards the Great Hall. “The soul shard was delivered to Hel without incident. She has allowed me to call upon her without the need of a ritual setting, so I suppose I must have a mark on me even if it is not seen.” He hesitated then before he breathed out a soft sigh. “The shard was encased in an artifact that Hel returned to me. The artifact in question was one crafted by the god Arawn.”

“That would explain it then,” Luna said knowingly, but did not elaborate on her thoughts. Salazar decided not to ask. Instead, he steered the conversation to more mundane matters. Before the students came back, he did want to take a couple of days to just experiment a little with his potions. He had invited Luna to join him, to which she had agreed. If he did indeed find another horcrux once he went with Black to his home, Salazar wanted just a couple of days to do something he enjoyed afterwards. A break from horcruxes and the search for a magical weapon, though that night would be a good break as well.

Salazar found himself a seat at the staff table and Luna took the chair next to him. After she gently patted his hand, she turned to the professor next to her and struck up a conversation. Salazar gave a quick smile and then turned to the old man in the seat next to him. He had been lucky enough that there had been an empty seat beside Dumbledore. “Headmaster,” he greeted as he served himself some of the Cottage Pie and a slice of the still warm bread.

As he turned to him, Dumbledore settled his goblet on the table before him and then leaned back in his seat. “Herrick, my boy. How are you enjoying your winter holidays?” The man asked with a twinkle in his eyes, though Salazar barely spared him a glance.

“They have been simultaneously both quiet and eventful,” Salazar responded as he poured himself a goblet of fruit juice from a pitcher that appeared before him. He had spoken to the house elves about alternative drinks as he did not enjoy the pumpkin juice that most magicals seemed to prefer. They had started a rotation of various fruit juices for him, whatever they might have on hand. Salazar had not wanted them to go out of their way to find him anything in particular. Today seemed to be a tart pomegranate juice. “I did want to inform you that Miss Granger and Skoll were able to solve the riddle of the chest,” he said cryptically, aware that the Headmaster would understand.

There was a beat of silence between them before Dumbledore gave Salazar a more serious look. “And the contents?”

With a wry smile, Salazar took a sip of his juice before he set his goblet down. He tore off a chunk of his bread and then dipped it into his gravy. “Delivered at once in accordance to my agreement.”

“Fitting then, given that it is Yule,” the Headmaster concluded before he ran his fingers over the length of his beard. “I appreciate that you have kept me informed. Any other news?”

After he had swallowed the bite he had taken, Salazar wiped his mouth with his napkin and shook his head. “Unfortunately not, Headmaster. I still have my plans with Mister Black, but we have no new leads just yet.”

The old wizard nodded, but then left Salazar to his meal. Dumbledore excused himself shortly after and Salazar found himself once more in conversation with Luna as she drew him back. Once they had both finished their lunches, Salazar excused himself. That night was bound to be a long one so he wanted the chance to get some rest and just spend some more time with Eolas.

The rest of the afternoon seemed to fly by as Salazar spent time in his office with Eolas curled up in his lap. He conversed some with his familiar, but spent a large portion of the time with a large tome in his hands. When dinner rolled around, he decided to not appear in the Great Hall. It was not unusual for him, so Salazar took a small meal in his office and then went for a short nap. Once he woke, he spent the rest of the time before their Yule celebration wandering the halls of the castle.

When curfew arrived, everyone gathered at the Room. The Weasley twins had helped to invite those families not associated with Slytherin House, and now helped to guide them unseen to the Room. The Greyback twins had jumped at the chance to help decorate and they attended to last minute details. Luna had managed to have Hermione help with preparations in any spare time the witch could offer, though for the most part Luna had done most of the arrangements. Blaise and Draco too had done what they could. Salazar had been kept from the preparations, but he found he did not mind. He looked forward to what they had prepared.

So, once everyone had gathered, Salazar was the last one to step through the door to the Room. He sealed the door behind him temporarily so they would have no surprises, then he focused on the transformation the Room had gone through. What he found nearly took his breath away. “I asked Einar to visualize it for me,” Luna said suddenly from beside him, but Salazar barely paid her any heed.

The Room resembled the gathering hall at Fyrkat. Its tall vaulted ceiling was supported by heavy beams carved with braided and endless knots. In an homage to Hogwarts, the House colours hung in banners from the ceiling and the House crests adorned shields that decorated the walls. The beams of the hall were decorated predominately with boughs of pine and threaded with mistletoe. There were pine trees that stood proudly in the corners of the hall, adorned proudly with ornaments created from dried fruit, pinecones, and fairy lights. A touch of magic saw snow fall lightly from the ceiling and disappear before it hit the wooden floor.

Along the center of the hall ran a large hearth. It was unlit currently, but a single log rested in the middle of the hearth. The log itself was decorated with pine boughs and pinecones. He spied too some dried fruit like those that decorated the pine trees in the corners. The air itself smelled of pine and citrus. It made something in his chest ache desperately, but he pushed it aside. “You all have done wonderfully,” he told Luna finally as he glanced over the tables that ran along either side of the hall. They were decorated with golden cloths, a hint of modern with that of the past. Centerpieces were lanterns that glittered with fairy lights and were adorned with the recurring theme of pine boughs and mistletoe. Every seat had a small wrapped gift.

“We wait for you, Herrick, to lead us through ritual,” Luna told him before she gave a soft laugh and danced away on light feet. Salazar noticed that she had chosen an apron dress for her garment of choice, a far cry from her usual choices. He thought it both suited her and seemed out of place at the same time. With a shake of his head, Salazar focused on everyone who had gathered around the hearth. He stepped up to a small table where a few items had been laid out.

“Welcome and blessed Yule to you all,” Salazar started as it grabbed the attention of those gathered. “We have gathered here tonight to feast and celebrate the return of the sun. I know many of you plan to postpone the tradition of exchanging gifts but, once we have seated for our feast, you will find a small gift from me.” It had been a late night project that he had worked on when he could not sleep, but needed something to occupy his hands. He smiled at the whispers that spread through the group, but then spread his arms. “There is a small note in each box that explains the gift. Now, let us all prepare for our ritual. I promise that I do not plan to drag it out too long.”

A splattering of laughter rippled through the assembled group, but it quickly quieted as the Weasley twins each gathered a basin and a pitcher full of water. Salazar could see runes that glimmered along the handle of the pitchers and the rims of the basins. The pitchers would refill with purified water and the basins would banish the dirtied water. They started on opposite sides and moved along the circle of gathered as they gave each person the opportunity to wash their hands in the cool water. A few splashed their faces as well.

George reached Salazar first and gave him a little wink. Salazar smiled and then carefully washed his hands in the cool water. He splashed his face and then dried his hands on the towel that was draped over George’s arm. After he had patted his face dry, he draped the towel back over the redhead’s arm. “Thank you,” he whispered before he waited for everyone to have their chance. Once the twins had rejoined the circle, Salazar picked up a horn that sat on the small table. He gave four short blasts that were to announce the call to ritual.

The twins next to him then picked up a basket that was each filled with small white candles. They passed the baskets down either side of the hearth through the circle so that each person had a candle. Once everyone did, Salazar gathered a bit of magic and lit his candle. He held it aloft before he spoke so everyone could hear him. “May the Gods protect us,” he began before he turned to either side to light the candles of the twins on either side of him. In a large group, Salazar preferred rituals that included others as much as was possible. So as the twins turned to light candles of the ones next to them, Salazar spoke aloud the next line. “May the Ancestors inspire us.” After each line he paused to allow others to echo him. “May our deeds define us.” As he spoke, he watched the candles light down along the rows. It was a solemn sight, but there was warmth there as well. “May our prayers be heard always.” They were almost to the end. "May the spirits who are watching be kind and understanding." He took a deep breath then before he said the last line of the Hallowing. “May these words define the next moments to come. As we will it, so let it be.”

As the last of the Hallowing was spoken, Salazar led the way to light their central fire. As the others all added their candles, the Yule log started to burn and the scent of pine grew stronger. Salazar could see parents lean over to guide their children as the little ones watched on with something akin to awe. Salazar waited until everyone had laid their candles into the raised hearth before he spread out his arms once more. “My friends,” he greeted them warmly. “Gather near to the fire and warm yourselves against the chill of this land. Six months have passed us since it was Midsummer and we have gathered this day in darker times.” Though they shared the warmth of their gathering, Salazar could feel the darkness almost as a physical weight. Though the days were shorter and literally at their darkest, there was also a figurative darkness that hung over them because of the war. They welcomed the return of the sun and it seemed symbolic as well.

So, when Salazar spoke the next lines they nearly caught in his throat. His chest felt tight with emotion and he was not the only one who seemed overcome. “The sun rose on this day, on the shortest day of the year. As the night has fallen around us, Sól has ridden her chariot to face the darkness at its deepest and the night at its longest. Tonight begins Yule, and we celebrate the Sun's victory, for tomorrow Sól will begin to longer show her face each day.” Salazar paused and took a breath. Others seemed to breathe along with him.

“But tonight, she makes her most dangerous ride through the long night,” Salazar continued, his voice quiet and only just heard through the stillness of the gathered. The log popped with fire and more than a few startled, but no one said a word. Salazar continued, “Tonight, we shall see her pace hasten as her light fights back the darkness of winter. Her fight against the shadows has just begun and daybreak will show true. Our Ancestors fought against the darkness and struggled against the cold it brought. But just as Sól was there to guide them with her bright light, so to shall she guide us into the warmth.” He allowed a smile to break his solemn features and he tilted his head back some. “Tonight, we shall make merry and light this fire to spread our own joy out against the dark and cold.”

The gathered adults seemed to hold their breath as the children watched with wide eyes. Salazar could not hold back a nearly breathless laugh as he raised his spread out arms. “We call to you and welcome you, Sól,” Salazar had to breathe out, though his voice managed to be heard by all. “To thee, Sól, day rider, hail!” His voice was stronger now and the group echoed his hail.

“To thee, brightener, shiner, awakener, hail!” They echoed his hail once more.

“To thee, goddess of sunny summer so bright, hail!” The echoed hail seemed to grow stronger.

“To thee, sister to the shadowy moonlight, hail!” The last echoed hail reverberated through the hall.

Salazar closed his eyes, his hands still outstretched. “Sól, we welcome your ride this Yule night,” he continued after a few moments of silence. “We wait with patience for you to warm the earth, and thaw the chill with your bright light. Today, on the shortest of days, we give thanks to you for your warmth and the joy that your light brings to us.” He paused a breath and then continued. “Yule renews our pledge that your gifts to man shall never be forgotten, though long our nights span. Never will we take your guidance for granted, though cold our days may be. Let none of us here forget today the gift that Sól bestows upon us, that the cycle of reciprocity ever be open between us.” Salazar lowered his hands then.

“Sól, your ride to take back the day begins tonight. Ride hard, goddess of sunny summer so bright. Ride fast, Sól, shining day rider. Ride true, brightener, awakener.” He picked up a drinking horn from its stand and held it aloft. His gaze had turned to the circle of gathered magicals. “My friends,” he spoke to them, his voice gentle. “Take this horn of golden mead and think on the return of the radiant sun. Remember the blessings of the Sun, on darkest days.” He took a small drink from the horn then before he passed it to his left where Fred stood beside him. The twin took a sip of the honeyed drink and then passed it to the next. The mead was a non alcoholic one so that the children could enjoy it as well.

As the drinking horn made its way around the circle, Salazar spoke the words of their offering. “From the gods, to the earth, to us.” He spoke the words slowly to give the drinking horn time to return back to him and let the others repeat each line. “From us, to the earth, to the gods.” He paused then and took the horn back with a small nod to George. He carefully poured the rest of the mead into the hearth as he spoke the last of the offering words. “A gift has been given, share in this drink with us and may it be well received.”

Salazar drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “As we will it, so shall it be.”

When he could gather himself again, Salazar opened his eyes and offered a smile to the circle of those gathered. “Go now and feast. The house elves have provided food and drink aplenty. Now that we have praised the return of the sun, Yule is for friends and family. Enjoy it!”

As the group broke to find places to sit at the long tables, Skoll and Hati suddenly appeared to drag him off to the head of one of the tables. He could see the Weasley family as they settled nearby, though he was a touch surprised to see that they had gathered both Draco and Blaise into their midst. Not all of the Weasley family was there as one notable absence was Ronald. From what Salazar understood, Hermione’s relationship with him was currently a rocky one. Salazar himself had not seen his once friend in awhile, though Hermione mentioned him in passing a handful of times. Hermione herself was seated next to Blaise while Draco had been sandwiched between the twins.

“Oh, Herrick,” Luna suddenly spoke and drew Salazar’s attention. Skoll and Hati had seated themselves on the ends of the row on either side of the table. Luna had seated herself next to Skoll and had already opened the present that had been at each seat. She pulled out the pendant and then looked up at the dark haired wizard. “It is an amulet for protection,” she stated.

Salazar glanced over the rest of the table to see that many others had begun to open their own gifts. They were all the same, though each one was handcrafted. “Yes,” Salazar agreed as he turned his eyes back to Luna. “I do not know how much it may help, but every little bit is needed when in times like these.” He smiled as she immediately looped it over her head and settled the pendant between her collarbones. It immediately disappeared. “They all have disillusionment charms on them so that no one else can see them.” He thought it might raise suspicions if so many of them suddenly started to wear the same amulet.

“Thank you, Herrick,” Luna interrupted Salazar’s thoughts. He did not reply as food suddenly appeared on the tables, courtesy of the house elves. Salazar gave her a nod and then stood up. He picked up his goblet, filled with a mulled cider, and lifted it in a salute. “Feast well and enjoy the warmth of family!” He elegantly dropped back down into his seat then and ignored the knowing look that Einar sent him. The elf had joined them this time and had seated himself beside Hati. Fenrir was on Einar’s other side.

Around them, the warm sounds of laughter and dining rose up after Salazar’s invitation. Salazar himself started to gather food from the platters that had appeared. Conversation was kept light, though the Greyback twins threw barbs back and forth between the two of them. It was all light-hearted, so Salazar let himself enjoy the atmosphere. As the feast started to wrap up, many of the gathered mages stood to socialize. Children ran about with laughter as they played games of tag. As the tables were abandoned, they disappeared to be replaced by benches to allow for better movement about the hall. A long table of treats provided by the house elves also appeared for anyone to choose from the selection.

At some point, Salazar found himself seated on a bench with an entire gaggle of children seated around him. Some were students, but there were a number of younger children there as well. Fred and George had rounded them up before they had declared that Salazar was the best storyteller. “Herrick knows how to spin the best tales!” They had boasted, their eyes alight with mischief. Salazar had thought they were trying to play games, but he was not about to let them get one up on him.

So, Salazar set his goblet of mulled cider aside and then rolled up the sleeves of his tunic. He leaned forward then and spread out his fingers with his palms up. “When I was an even younger man, I walked the ancient forests of the Northern communities,” he started. “The age old trees that rise like sentinels and stand guard over the narrow fjords of sparkling water.” As he spoke, he drew up his magic and used it to paint a picture for the children. Trees sprouted as he described them and water flowed in like a tide among the rising cliffs.

“Amongst the trees I found the opening of a cave that stood like an archway into another world.” The image of the trees and fjord ebbed away before they flowed together to create a crude archway. “Down into the earth I traveled until the way opened up to me into a cavern that glittered as if the stars had come down to earth to light the waters of a lake of crystal waters.” The children around him gasped as the magic exploded like fireworks and glimmered like the setting he had described. “The lake itself glowed with an inner light as wisps floated above its surface like fireflies.”

Salazar paused then before he smiled. “As I stepped into this world, I suddenly became aware of a woman that sat by the cavern’s lakeshore upon a crystal boulder. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes upon, her skin as pale as untouched snow and her hair like that of spun gold.” He painted the image of the woman on the shore before he looked out over the children and their rapt attention. “‘Who are you, mortal, to trespass upon me?’ she suddenly spoke. ‘I am Herrick, my lady, and I have stumbled upon you by chance,’ I replied. Suddenly she stood before me! In the blink of an eye she moved, with barely a sound!” Quite a number of the children gasped.

“‘By chance or not, I have not given you permission to gaze upon me,’ she warned me sternly, her voice as sweet as the berries of winter but as cool as its frost. ‘Do something for me and I will allow you to leave,’ she told me then with her eyes of winter sky blue. She ordered me then, ‘Deep within this cave is a sword of great worth and importance, but I have lost it. Retrieve this sword for me and I shall keep my promise.’” Salazar waved his hands and the magic swirled to show another arch open in the crystal cavern. “No choice but to follow the path, I ventured deep into the dark of the earth with only the pale ribbon river that flowed from the lake as a guide and a feeble flame to light the way.” He raised a hand and curled his fingers to summon a small flame into his palm. The children gasped in awe, but Salazar only smiled.

“The way twisted and entwined until I had lost all sense of time, of direction. Perhaps hours or perhaps days had passed, though I felt no thirst and I felt no hunger,” Salazar continued then. “It was when I had begun to despair that suddenly the path opened up before me.” The magic that had flowed along like the river he mentioned suddenly burst into a sparkling cavern with a pool and a waterfall that flowed upwards. “Within the heart of the pool was a crystal that pulsed with a golden light,” Salazar said then. “As I stepped up to the pool, a great and ancient magic allowed me to step upon the water with only ripples to mark the path I had taken. But as I reached down to touch the crystal, there was a voice that called to me. ‘Answer me a riddle, mortal,’ it told me. ‘Prove your worth.’ I could only agree to its challenge.”

Salazar chuckled then and looked over the faces that watched him with their full attention. “Can any of you guess the riddle?

‘From home I went,

from home I made my way,

I saw a road of roads,

and a road under them,

and a road over them,

and a road on all sides.

Mortal,

guess my riddle.’”

Salazar allowed the magic to hover above them still, but many of the children had now adopted looks of intense concentration. He waited patiently until one of the older children suddenly gasped and her head shot up. “A river! It’s a river!” Salazar nodded with an approving grin.

“‘You are a river,’ I told the voice after a moment of thought. As I spoke the answer, there was a great light from the crystal beneath the surface of the water. So great it was that I had to shield my eyes but, when I could see once more, there hovered before me a wondrous sword,” Salazar said before he swept his hand to change the illusion. The magic gathered to show the blade. “I reached out my hand to wrap my fingers about the hilt. As soon as I had it in my grip…” Salazar trailed off and flicked his fingers so the illusion suddenly plunged down and exploded with a spray like water. Quite a few of the children jumped in surprise. “I plunged into the icy waters of the pool!” It earned him a ripple of giggles from his listeners, so Salazar winked at them.

Salazar dismissed the magic then and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I clambered out of the pool and dragged myself back up the winding passages until I came back to the crystal cavern. There I offered the sword to the woman, but she held up her hands. ‘It is yours now, mortal,’ she told me without much explanation. In the next moment she disappeared and the exit revealed itself to me.”

As he went silent, there was a small cry of outrage from one of the children. “But what happened to the sword?” The little boy demanded, his cheeks pink as he puffed them out.

With a soft laugh, Salazar gave him a wink. “I still have the sword in my possession, of course,” he said lowly, almost conspiratorially.

“I want to see it!” The boy said with a loud gasp as he climbed up onto his knees, much to Salazar’s amusement.

The sword was ever present by his side, hidden in its sheath. With a chuckle though, Salazar shook his head. “Perhaps in the future,” he said as he waved them away. “Go on now.” More than one of them gave him a pout, but they eventually disbanded and Salazar was left with the Weasley twins as they plopped down next to him.

“Is that a true story?” Fred said as he leaned his back against Salazar’s shoulder. “Pretty mystical, isn’t it?”

Salazar was quiet a moment before he stood up and forced Fred to nearly fall over, though George caught his twin. “Mostly,” he said with a sly smile. “Godric was there as well.” And there had been more riddles. He gave the two a small smirk before he disappeared into a nearby group to socialize.

The rest of the night went well as Salazar mingled with various groups between glasses of mulled cider and sweet treats. He got dragged off again to tell another story at some point, though many of the children seemed like they were half asleep by now as they were full of good food and sweets. Shortly after the conclusion of his simple story, parents started to herd their children from the Room. Once nearly everyone was gone, Salazar excused himself as well. It was plenty late and he had plans with Black in the morning so he wanted to be able to get some sleep before then. He made sure to set an alarm for himself, then all but collapsed into bed. He was asleep not long after his head landed on his pillow.

When his alarm went off the next morning, Salazar awoke feeling that the morning had come far too soon even though the night was long and dawn came late even as days were about to grow longer. He had to meet with Black soon, but he needed both a shower and a hot breakfast. Coffee would not be remiss either.

So, with a reluctant grumble, Salazar rolled out of bed and trudged over to the bathroom. His shower did help him to wake up, though he could still definitely use that coffee. So he quickly dressed in his usual garb of woolen trousers and long tunic. The tunic was a dark blue today, with silver embroidery on the hems. He had the thought that a blatant show of Slytherin colours might put Black in a mood and he wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

After he had secured his belt around his waist with his usual pouches and disillusioned sword, Salazar grabbed leather bracers to buckle onto his forearms. His wand slipped into the cleverly designed notches on the right one so it was always on hand. He next slipped his feet into his boots and then he grabbed his fur lined cloak to drape it over his arm. Prepared for his trip with Black, he made to exit his bedroom to head to the Great Hall for a quick breakfast.

Something stopped him though and he found himself before the chest of his most precious belongings. On a whim, he retrieved the pouch that contained the artifact connected to Arawn. He did not know what compelled him to take it along, but he tucked it away into a pouch before he finally made his way to breakfast.

Black was already there, seated beside the headmaster. Salazar ignored him as he slipped into a seat at the end of the table and gathered some oatmeal from a bowl. There was a selection of fruit and nuts available, so he added it to the oatmeal. After a drizzle of honey, he started in on his meal. It was warm and it would fill him. After a few bites, he prepared a cup of coffee for himself with just a touch of cream. He wanted the bitter and pungent drink to be strong enough to wake him.

He had barely finished his meal when suddenly Black stood across from him. “Let’s get this over with,” the man said roughly.

With a sigh, Salazar drained the last of his coffee and then stood up. As he strode down the center aisle of the Hall, he settled his cloak around his shoulders and then clasped it with nimble fingers. Black had taken off ahead of him, but Salazar was able to catch up quickly. The man ignored him, so the long walk down to the gates was quiet with an awkward silence. However, Black stopped him before they could pass past the edge of the wards.

“Grimmauld Place was my home before I came to Hogwarts,” Black said as he faced him with a carefully blank face. Salazar said nothing, not about to interrupt the man and somehow set him off. “Black Manor, the ancestral home of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, was destroyed sometime during the war with Grindelwald. Grimmauld Place is the last property of the main House, of which I am the last of my name.” Black did not seem to be too torn up about this fact. “My cousin, Bellatrix, is a fanatic of Riddle. She is aware of the property, so we will need to be careful. There are protections, however.”

Black handed out a slip of parchment to Salazar. The younger wizard took it warily and opened it to find an address. He brow furrowed a moment before it finally clicked. He willed his magic to set the parchment aflame after he had carefully memorized the address. “Fidelius,” he said as he dropped his hand again. Black only nodded and finally stepped across the boundary of the castle wards. Salazar followed after him and took Black’s arm when the older wizard reluctantly offered it to him for Side-Along Apparition.

When they reappeared, Salazar found himself in the shade of a manicured tree that stood in the garden of an obviously mundane neighborhood. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he let go of Black’s arm, only to watch as a much more rundown townhouse pushed its way into position from between the carefully maintained homes on either side of it. He decided not to comment, though part of him had not expected the location. Instead, Salazar followed Black quickly up to the door and into the eerily shadowed foyer.

“We should take this into the kitchen before we wake up my mother,” Black said lowly as he pointed sharply with his thumb at a curtained section of the wall. Salazar desperately wanted to ask, but he only nodded and followed after Black. They had barely managed to make it a few steps when the aforementioned curtains suddenly sprang apart to reveal the magical portrait of a woman that might have once been poised and elegant. Salazar could spy the traces in her face that Black must have inherited, but all of it was ruined by the madness in her eyes and the way her expression contorted with a hysterical fury.

“Blood traitor! By-products of dirt and vileness!” She screeched as her skeletal hands pulled at her peppered hair, tangled on her head in uncared for curls. “Rotten fruit of my loins, shame of my flesh! How dare you bring more filth into my home! Abominations! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers!”

Black ran to the canvas curtains and tried to force them back over the portrait, but he had to struggle against them as the portrait continued to screech at him. Salazar approached in quick strides when he finally had enough after only a few heartbeats of time. “Wait,” he said coldly. Black stopped his struggles and even the portrait quieted her wails in surprise.

When he stood in front of the portrait, Salazar glanced at the nameplate that adorned the elaborate frame. He then raised his eyes to meet those of the woman. “Who are you to order me in my own home?” The woman spoke shrilly as she reached both hands out in front of her as if she could reach out from beyond the frame to wrap her spindly fingers around his neck.

“I am a guest of the House of Black,” Salazar responded as he slid his wand into his hand. He then touched the tip of it against the frame. “Nochd.” The frame flared with light, a jumbled mess of runes and spellweave. “How curious,” he said. “Black, did you know? While a magical portrait does not contain a soul shard, it does contain strands of memory that are woven through the paint. However, if it is improperly done, the memories can degrade.”

Black’s own wand was in his hand, but it remained pointed towards the ground. “My mother was always mad. Spoke about blood supremacy and other nonsense. I do not see how it is any different to memory degradation.”

“It rots the magic around it,” Salazar responded softly and prodded at one of the strands that appeared withered and strained.

The portrait gave out an ear piercing wail. “What are you doing, you cretin?! Stop! Stop!”

Salazar ignored her and then smirked over to Black. “If one is not careful, one wrong move will make the entire thing crumble.” He then suddenly twisted his wand around the strand and yanked. The entire spellweave collapsed into a rainbow of lights before it sputtered out like a dying ember. The portrait turned to ash with one last final scream, which left an empty frame in its wake. The silence that fell around them was almost deafening in the sudden absence of sound.

Part of Salazar worried that he had overstepped his boundaries, but there was another part of him that thought he did not have to worry. So, he was not entirely surprised when Black suddenly dragged him into a hug. It was over before he could entirely process the action, but Salazar could only stare at Black’s back as the man stalked off down the dim hallway. He gathered himself a moment later and followed after the older wizard to find him in a dim kitchen.

“I suppose you aren’t so bad, Evans,” Black said roughly. Salazar was not even sure how to respond to that.

After a beat though, Salazar sighed and looked away. “I am just a man, Black. We do not have to get along. I do not expect everyone to like me. However, I do not want to fight with you if we fight for the same thing.” He gave a small quirk of his lips then and held out a hand to the other man. “Enemy of my enemy is my friend, is it not?”

Black gave a surprised bark of laughter, but then he reached out and clasped Salazar’s hand. “I still got my eye on you, Evans, but I’ll let it pass for now.”

Salazar snorted softly, but accepted the truce for what it was. He let go of Black’s hand then and looked around at the poorly maintained kitchen. “I suppose I could hazard a guess and say that this Kreacher is as mad as the portrait in the entrance hall?”

“Not a surprise at all,” Black muttered under his breath before he sharply called out the house elf’s name.

The creature that appeared was hunched and gnarled with a mean sort of face. Immediately, the house elf glanced at Sirius from the corner of his bulbous eyes. “Kreacher did not know that filthy traitor Master was home. Unnatural little beast he is.”

“What was that, Kreacher?” Black said almost sweetly, a glint in his dark eyes.

Kreacher seemed to sneer at Sirius and still did not turn his full attention to him. "No, no, Kreacher said nothing,” he muttered under his breath and his eyes darted to spot Salazar. “And there's a Mudblood most like, standing there unnatural and bold, but oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry. The company that false master keeps, yes Kreacher knows. What they is doing here, Kreacher doesn’t know."

Black opened his mouth with a snarl to respond, but Salazar held up his hand to stop him. Instead, he then quietly requested the locket. Once it was in his hands, Salazar crouched down to be more at level with the tiny creature. “Kreacher,” he said evenly and then held out the locket so that it dropped and dangled between them. “Do you recognize this?”

“Master Regulus’ locket!” Kreacher screeched and made a swipe for the locket. Salazar quickly yanked it out of reach and curled his hand around it to guard it. “How dare you put your filthy hands on Master Regulus’ locket. How did you get that? How dare you defile it?” The creature rambled in a high pitched voice, though Salazar tried not to wince.

“Kreacher! Shut up!” Black practically roared before he tsked and dropped down onto a rickety chair as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Merlin, he’s useless.”

Salazar tried not to shoot Black a sharp look, but mercifully Kreacher had quieted. He might not have a good relationship with Black, but the house elf was still bound to the wizard. Salazar sighed and turned his attention back to the angry mumbles of Kreacher. “You recognize the locket. You were there with Regulus Black when he switched out the lockets.”

“Master Regulus’ business is not any of nasty mudblood’s concern,” Kreacher grumbled mutinously.

“Just answer him already, Kreacher,” Black suddenly cut in, his angry expression having melted away to one of weariness. Salazar eyed him a moment, but then focused on Kreacher. The elderly house elf did not look impressed and seemed to struggle against the order like it was a physical binding.

Finally, Kreacher let out a hiss. “Kreacher was there, yes. Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to return, to leave him.” Gnarled hands pulled at warty and wrinkled ears that were too large for the creature’s head. “Master Regulus told Kreacher not to tell anyone what he did, to destroy Dark Lord’s locket. Kreacher did as ordered, kept Kreacher’s silence and left Master Regulus there to die. Master Regulus was strange that night he came, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell.” The house elf had started to babble. “Master Regulus asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord."

Salazar let out a breath and frowned just a bit. “Kreacher,” he interrupted gently. “Regulus was a hero. He gave his life to right a wrong, used the last of his life to save you. He was a great man.” He watched as the pitiful creature wrung his hands and looked up at him with eyes that were unnaturally wide. A part of him wanted to recoil, but he felt pity for the creature and little else. “He would have been proud of you, for keeping your silence for so long. Were you able to destroy the locket, Kreacher?”

Floppy ears whipped from side to side as Kreacher shook his head and curled his fingers in agitation. “Kreacher failed Master Regulus’ final order,” the house elf said quietly.

“Give the locket to me, Kreacher,” Salazar said soothingly. “You can fulfill his final order in that way. I can destroy the locket and his order will be done. In return, you can have this locket.” He dangled the heirloom in front of him again. Black made some sort of strangled noise, but thankfully did not protest. “I will give it to you in exchange for the locket Regulus told you to destroy.”

Without another word, Kreacher suddenly popped away. “He listens better to you than he does to me,” Black grumbled as soon as the house elf was gone. Salazar straightened and looked over to take in Black’s defiant pose.

“I cannot imagine what sort of propaganda and lies have been fed to him all of his life,” Salazar said mildly. “He is a pitiful creature. And his condition is so far deteriorated from the creatures that first came here from the Roman Empire. He is a victim, Black, so pity him instead of reviling him. You might be surprised.”

Black was unable to respond as Kreacher suddenly appeared again, a locket clasped tightly in his hands. Salazar could practically feel the soul shard contained inside of the innocuous locket, sensitive to the feel of Riddle’s soul. He held out the heirloom in his hands and Kreacher quickly snatched it from him as Salazar took the horcrux delicately. “Thank you, Kreacher,” Salazar said as he inspected the locket. “What a gaudy thing.”

“It’s supposed to be Slytherin’s locket, isn’t it?” Black said as his boots thumped against the floorboard as he stood. “You’re dismissed, Kreacher.” He paused and frowned. “Thank you.”

As Black approached him, Salazar pulled out his wand. The locket did not appear to be cursed as it was being handled just fine. However, he could feel the insidious energy that it gave off. It would be best to deliver it into Hel’s hands as soon as possible. “Well, it was certainly a Slytherin’s trinket,” Salazar said as he examined the gaudy emerald studded letter on the front of the golden locket. It certainly was not his, though perhaps had belonged to a descendant of Cayden’s.

Salazar lifted his head then as he held the locket by its chain, as he was not willing to hold the pendent itself. “I appreciate your help with this, Black, but might I ask of you one more favour? I would like the quick use of your back garden, if possible. I want to be rid of this horcrux as quickly as possibly.”

“Only if I get to stay and watch,” Black replied stubbornly. Salazar decided it was not worth it to fight, so he gave in. Black led the way out to the overgrown garden outback. It was just as gloomy and grim as the rest of the property.

“Stay back and do not say anything,” Salazar told Black sternly. “I am about to call for Hel’s attention and it is not something that you want on you. She is the guardian of the dead and carries the warmth of a mother, but her presence can be difficult to bear if you are not used to the feeling.” He had his contract with Hel to protect him to a degree, but it would do Black well to keep quiet. The man looked skeptical, but luckily he nodded shortly and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood back.

With a deep breath, Salazar closed his eyes and centered himself. He reached down into his core then and sought out the mark he had felt placed upon him. “Lady of Helheim, this humble mortal asks for your presence. I offer you another gift in accordance to our bargain.”

His words had barely drifted away on the wind when the heavy presence of Hel suddenly descended upon his shoulders, it was not an unwanted feeling but still one that carried a lot of weight. She appeared uncomfortably close to him, both strikingly beautiful and endlessly ancient. She reached out with her death grey hand so her skeletal fingers barely hovered above his cheek. Salazar tried not to tremble as his heart beat wildly in his chest. It was not an unpleasant feeling, just an overwhelming one.

“You are an honourable man, Salazar Slytherin.” Salazar could hear Black shift behind him but he, blessedly, remained silent. “Two gifts in as many days. It will be an honour to have you dine at my table one day.”

“It is I who am honoured,” Salazar breathed out as he did not even dare to move. The tension in his chest eased as Hel dropped her hand back down at her side. “There are three more soul shards, Hidden Lady. I do not know when I can offer them to you, but we have made progress.” He lifted the locket and let it dangle between them. He had to grit his teeth against the wave of corrosive magic that washed over him. The locket was sentient enough to understand that it was in danger.

When Hel extended her hand again, Salazar dropped the locket into her palm. As her fingers curled around it, Salazar felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Hel was gone without another word and then he could really breathe. Even so, he found himself missing her presence.

When he turned though, Salazar found Black had drawn his wand and had it pointed towards his chest. “Why did she say the name Salazar Slytherin?” Suspicion laced Black’s voice.

Salazar met his gaze evenly. “The locket once belonged to one of Salazar Slytherin’s family,” he lied smoothly with a bit of misplaced fact.

“How would she even know his name?” Black did not seem to fully believe him. “She said his name, not you.”

With a soft sigh, Salazar shook his head. “How can mortals know the mind of a Goddess? She is the caretaker of the dead, Black. There are a great many who pass through her realm, knows all their names. Who is to say whether or not Salazar Slytherin met the great Goddess herself?”

Black hesitated a moment longer before he finally sheathed his wand again. “As you say,” the man muttered as he turned slightly, his gaze far away suddenly as he looked upon the rundown carcass that was the Black residence. “I like to believe that not all of my family were rotten to the core,” the man muttered. “I spent a long time believing that I was the only good Black. I abandoned Reggie because I was too narrow-sighted to see that he was a victim just as I was. But it killed him in the end.”

Salazar thought he knew that he needed to do in that moment. There was a beat of silence then before Salazar reached into the pouch at his side. He glanced down at the stone he had retrieved and then held it tightly in his palm. He closed his eyes and asked forgiveness that he was about to pull a spirit from its well-earned rest, then concentrated to activate the timeless magic contained with the Hallow.

“Siri?” The word was spoken in a muffled tone, as if filtered through a thick veil. It still startled Black into a sharp turn. Salazar thought his expression was heartbreakingly broken as the older wizard only had eyes for the shade that had appeared between the two of them.

With an aborted motion, Black jerked and his hands fluttered at his sides. “Reggie? What? How?”

Regulus Black glanced over his shoulder at Salazar. “It is painful to be pulled back to the land of the living. The dead do not belong here and it is an agony that the living could never understand.” A small smile quirked his elegant lips. “But I thank you for the chance to speak to my brother.” Salazar gave a deep bow, another apology on his lips. Regulus waved him off and turned back to Sirius. “I hated you for a long time, Siri. But I never stopped loving you.”

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I should have…” Sirius croaked out, but stopped when Regulus raised a delicate hand.

The shade was quiet for a moment and then he gave a sad smile. “You were a child, Siri. Perhaps you made mistakes, but it does us no use to dwell on what could have happened. What is done is done.” He tilted his head back and closed his eyes with another sad smile. “Death manages to put things into a different perspective. For both the living and the dead. I forgave you a long time ago, Siri. Now you need to forgive yourself.”

Unable to respond, Black approached Regulus and reached out to the shade of the too young man. His hands passed through him though and Salazar turned his head away so he could not watch the way Black’s expression crumbled.

Regulus reached up a hand and hovered it over his brother’s cheek. “Let me go, Siri. Live a long life to spite that madman. Only once you are very old and hunched are you allowed to die. Promise me that. Once you do die, I shall be waiting for you past the veil. Remember the stories that our grandmother used to tell us? About Annwn? I will wait for you there and I do not mind waiting long.”

“I promise,” Black choked out as he hovered his own hand over Regulus’. “I promise I won’t get myself killed, so you better be waiting for me.”

A sad, yet relieved, smile stretched across Regulus’ lips. “James and Lily will be waiting for you, too. James says he does not blame you for what Peter has done, that you were all too young in a war that you should have never been pulled into.” He paused then and his expression became stern. “Lily says you are not to blame Harry, that he will approach you in his own time. His choices are not for you to judge.”

Black gave a small cry and he looked like he wanted to grab onto Regulus’ shoulders. “Harry? He is alive?” He nearly yelled the words, his eyes wild. Salazar tried not to react to how the conversation had turned. “That’s all that matters! I don’t care about anything else!”

“He is alive,” Regulus reassured gently. “He is well and he is safe. He has many people to look over him, to stand by his side. That is what James and Lily both tell me.” Regulus paused then and gave his brother one last smile. “I need to return now, Siri. Do not have him call for me again. The dead are not meant to be in the land of the living. Do not cling to my memory and remember your promise. Goodbye, Siri. I love you, my brother.”

“I love you, too, Reggie,” Black whispered just before the shade faded away. The overgrown garden was quiet, almost eerily so.

Salazar carefully tucked the stone away again, but did not dare to otherwise move. He felt like he had been an unwanted spectator of an intimate conversation. He was not sure how Black might react. Still, he kept on edge as the older wizard suddenly approached him with an unreadable expression on his face and the wrinkles around his eyes creased deeply.

“You are a Slytherin,” Black said suddenly.

Unsure what was on the man’s mind, Salazar nodded slowly. “I am. For all that Houses matter in the real world.” Black reared back a step as his eyes widened. With what courage he had, Salazar pressed forward. “The Houses were meant to be separated by traits that the children possessed as they entered Hogwarts. It would give them a place to belong, give them camaraderie with other children who had similar traits as them. But children grow and our experiences change us.” As Harry Potter, he had been Sorted into Gryffindor. Now, he was Salazar Slytherin.

Salazar took a deep breath, but held Black’s gaze. “Each one of us can have courage, loyalty, a thirst for knowledge, and ambition to be more than what others try to impose on us. That is the ambition that Slytherin House should have been known for. The ambition to be who we were meant to be, not what others want us to be. The ambition to break free of the shackles that our families or circumstances create for us. That takes its own courage, can be achieved through loyalty to the right people and through the search for the proper knowledge. The House traits are meant to work in harmony. Hogwarts is meant to work in harmony.”

“How do you know all this?” Black asked finally, his brow furrowed.

It took a moment to gather his thoughts, but Salazar finally answered. “Hogwarts remembers her Founders and they have left impressions of themselves within her if one knows where to look.” He could not stop the fond smile that curled his lips. “Hogwarts loved each one of them. Even Salazar Slytherin, who has been reviled by history. They were just men and women who wanted to bring together the new generations of mages to teach them magic as it was truly meant to be practiced. They left that mark on the school.”

Black clenched his jaw and turned his head away. “But the tales of Gryffindor and Slytherin’s fight,” he started out, but trailed off.

“Just tales,” Salazar responded easily. “Or, rather, blown out of proportion. Hogwarts will tell anyone who listens that Godric and Salazar were brothers. Do not all brothers fight? Salazar was beloved by Godric.” He fought down the tightness in his chest, the way his heart seemed to throb and bleed. “Over the years, tales have been spun into myths and legends. The Founders were mere mortals, not deities. They would not want to be worshipped. But as the way of spoken word, the stories have evolved over time.” Salazar paused then and studied the side of Black’s face. “Even if the stories were true and Salazar Slytherin was an evil wizard, why should his sins be placed upon the shoulders of his House? They are children.”

Black gave a sharp shake of his head. “Even children can be cruel,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes to counter the harsh words.

“Though I have simplified it, there is a theory that states that our personalities are built upon the perception that others have of us. If you have been told all your life that you were worthless, that you are evil, there would eventually come a time that you would start to believe the lies imposed upon you. Little by little, stone by stone, you would mold yourself into their expectations. Even if only at a subconscious level,” Salazar spoke calmly. “Children do not usually realize that they have been molded to the expectations of their parents or other adults. It takes the harsh realities of life to realize what has been done. Oftentimes, these lessons come too late. Sometimes, they are not learned at all.”

As Salazar fell silent, he could see how conflicted Black seemed to be. “How do I talk to Hogwarts? To see the same as you?” Black asked him suddenly.

With a sigh, Salazar looked away. “She does not communicate in words, but instead uses images and impressions of emotion. You really just have to open yourself up to her, though it may be more difficult if you do not have an attachment to her wards. As Head of House, it provides a more direct connection with her. However, I believe you might have some luck if you reach out to her through meditation.”

Black merely nodded and then started to walk away. Salazar followed after him, eager to return to the school. He felt utterly drained and wanted nothing more than to have a good cup of mead while he sat beside the hearth in his office. He was lucky that he had not invited Einar to speak of the Prophecy that day. He did not have the energy or will for it even though it was barely even midday.

So, once they had returned to the school, Salazar went to make a quick report to the Headmaster before he returned to his quarters. He took a long bath, then took his lunch at his desk. Once he was sated, he took a cup of mead and sat in front of the hearth with a good book just like he wanted to do. Salazar spent the rest of the afternoon like that until Luna came to him with dinner. They ate together before they spent time long into the night in Salazar’s potions lab.

Late the next morning, Salazar invited Blaise, Einar, the Weasley twins, the Greyback twins, and Luna all down to his office. They were all those who knew that he had been Harry Potter, that he was Salazar Slytherin. He had thought he might invite Hermione as well, but he still hesitated to tell her.

Salazar offered them all drinks before he took his own seat. “Thank you all for coming,” he stated softly as he leaned back. “I hope you all enjoyed Yule. I feel as if it went well.” He received agreement from the others as he took a sip of his juice. Seemed to be grape today. Once his companions had quieted, Salazar sighed softly and looked down into the ripples of his drink. “All of you here know that I was once Harry Potter, know who I am now. During Samhainn months ago, I was visited by my parents.” He gave a small smile as he recalled the shades of the young couple. He had Arawn’s Hollow, so he could speak to them again… but that would not be fair to them.

With a small shake of his head, Salazar pushed the impulse away and then glanced over to Luna. She was the one who had the greatest grasp of prophecy, though Salazar had a feeling that this one came from a Seer who was not as attuned to the threads of Wyrd. Or, perhaps, attuned in a different manner. Still, Luna might be of great help to break down the words of the prophecy passed down to him. Or she would speak in more riddles.

“Lily and James Potter passed to me the words of a Prophecy that bind my fate to that of the Dark Lord. I want to ask of you all to help me muse over the words, make sense of it as much as a prophecy can be understood,” he told them before he paused. “I do not require you to stay, do not order you all to help me. However, I would appreciate the assistance as it would help me put my mind at ease.”

Fred and George were the first to lean forward, their faces devoid of their usual humour. “You know that you can always rely on us, Salazar,” they echoed each other. “We will follow you to the ends of the earth if you required it of us.”

Salazar could not smile, though his expression was soft as he faced the two who had first known the secrets of his identity. “I have said it many times, but I never wanted to be a leader. Especially not in this war. If you continue to preach such words, there will be others who will get the wrong idea.”

“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them,” Einar said suddenly and drew Salazar’s attention. “Perhaps it is a cliche statement, but they ring true nevertheless. You are all three and that is not something you can escape from.” He placed a slender hand over his heart. “You are our commander whether you want it or not. This world has fallen into a stalemate of a war, but as soon as you appeared once more… well, this is the closest the Dark Lord has been to defeat since his first brush with death. We need you, but we will not let you carry this burden alone.”

“I definitely would never follow the Dark Lord,” Blaise suddenly piped up as he smirked at Salazar. “I did not enjoy following Dumbledore, the old goat. He means well, but he sometimes forgets about more than just the big picture. He’s an old man anyways so there’s only so much that he can do now.” His smirk widened into a grin. “Besides, I like the idea of the big hero being a Slytherin so we can finally show the rest of the world that we are not as evil as everyone tries to make us out to be.”

Salazar let out a breath and gave a small shake of his head. “You know where we stand already, Herrick,” Hati inserted into the conversation. Beside him, Skoll gave a serious nod and held Salazar’s gaze as the man’s eyes slid to him.

“I am a lucky man to have such companions as all of you,” Salazar said finally. He huffed out a small laugh before he gave a nod. “Thank you. All of you.”

“Tell us the prophecy,” Blaise said after a beat of silence. Salazar could see the others as they practically leaned forward in interest. Only Luna seemed to be indifferent, her gaze on something that none of the rest of them could see. She had a smile on her lips though, some sort of knowing expression.

With a deep breath, Salazar took a moment to recall the words of the Prophecy. “‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies....’”

A heavy silence swept through the room as Salazar’s voice quickly faded away. Fred and George had leaned close together and watched each other out of the corner of their eyes. Salazar thought they might be deep in a private conversation. Blaise had crossed his arms over his chest as a deep frown adorned his brow.

“Much of the prophecy has already come to pass,” Einar said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It provides the requirements for the one who might be able to defeat the Dark Lord one day. When he tried to kill you as a child, he set the prophecy into motion.”

Salazar tried not to grit his teeth as he found Luna’s sad gaze upon him. “A vague prophecy and it stole the course of my entire life from me,” he said darkly. He hated prophecies as they always seemed to have a million and one different solutions. What was the power that the Dark Lord knew not? What did it mean that neither of them could live while the other survived?

“The power to defeat the Dark Lord is not the physical manifestation of magical power,” Luna interrupted quietly as her blue eyes watched the flames in the hearth with a distant gaze. “The headmaster would like to believe that it is the power of love.”

Both Skoll and Hati snorted in response. “How does one fight with the power of love?”

“Loyalty and love can come hand in hand,” Luna said as her eyes slid away from the hearth. “The fight to protect what one loves is more powerful than any selfish reason.” Her clear gaze fell on Salazar. “But love is not the whole of the answer. And, unless either of you fall in battle, you are cursed to meet him time and time again until the prophecy has been fulfilled in its entirety. Even if you run, you will find yourself on a battlefield once more.”

“So, Herrick is the only one who can defeat the Dark Lord in the end,” Einar interrupted quietly. “The man will be mortal once more before long, but only Herrick will be able to ensure he will be gone for good.”

The atmosphere in the room was a heavy one and it only seemed to drag further down on Salazar’s shoulders. “More and more refugees keep appearing at the gates of Hogwarts,” Fred broke the silence, his voice almost too loud in how it broke through the quiet. George took over, his voice just as jarring. “Hogsmeade is nearly at capacity and Hogwarts herself is in a precarious position as Professor Dumbledore is reluctant to accept refugees without them being properly vetted first. We cannot afford to lose Hogwarts to Riddle.”

“We cannot afford to let this war drag on any further,” Salazar said heavily. As he had suspected, the Prophecy had been too vague to be of much help. It basically boiled down to one last fight between the Dark Lord and him to decide the fate of the Wizarding world. No pressure. “We have to double our efforts to find both Tyrfing and the remaining horcruxes.”

Blaise made a soft noise as he nodded in agreement. “I have been helping Draco with the one we’re sure is in the Room of Hidden Things. We have made quite a bit of progress, but I will make sure to spend more time there searching.” He paused then before he sighed softly. “If we need to work faster, then Draco might volunteer to kill Nagini. He might be the only one who can get in close enough to the serpent to kill it.”

“That would be suicide,” Salazar said quietly.

“He’ll think it’s atonement for everything he did before he got his act together, figured out the truth for himself,” Blaise said grimly as he ran his fingers through his dark curls.

Fred and George both made identical noises that Salazar could not even begin to analyze. “He has atoned enough,” George said grimly. “If he wants to kill Nagini, we could use the help to get close enough to kill her. But, he needs a way to get out of there so he doesn’t forfeit his life.”

Salazar breathed out a sigh. “Unless an opportunity presents itself, we can leave Nagini for last. Let us focus on the Diadem and Cup for now. We know where the Diadem generally is, however we have not had any solid leads on the location of Hufflepuff’s Cup. The Diary was originally entrusted to Lucius Malfoy, so the Headmaster believes that the Cup might have been entrusted to one of his other most loyal followers. It is not much of a lead, but perhaps it will lead us in the right direction.”

“The Dark Lord’s most zealous follower is Bellatrix Lestrange,” Blaise mused. “She was imprisoned after the end of the first war, but was broken out of Azkaban soon after the Dark Lord’s return. If Riddle gave a horcrux to any of his followers for safekeeping like he had done with Lucius Malfoy, then he would have definitely given one to her.” He gave a soft sigh then. “Bellatrix Lestrange is one of the three Black sisters, so she is Sirius Black’s cousin. As much as it pains me to say, he might be able to provide some insight into the woman.”

Salazar gave a weary sigh. “Yes, most likely.” That would not make for a pleasant conversation, but it was currently the only possible lead that they had. He had heard a little about the witch and it did seem logical that, if the Dark Lord had given a horcrux to Lucius Malfoy for safekeeping, he would have given one to Bellatrix Lestrange. If she was a Black, then Sirius Black was going to be their only source of information. “I will approach him,” he said finally, but decided he would wait a few days to approach him again. Salazar really did not want to push his luck.

With another soft sigh, Salazar gave them all a small smile. He then turned his attention to Einar. “I know much of Hermione’s attention has been on breaking the curse that was on the chest but, now that it has been taken care of, she will want to focus her attention on Tyrfing’s location. How goes the hunt?”

Einar ran his delicate fingers through his pale hair. “I have studied a great many maps over the last few days,” he said. “So much so, that I feel as though my eyes might fall out of my head.” He smiled slyly before he shook his head. “I have created a list of forests that have all, at one point, carried the name of Myrkviðr. From there, we should be able to reference modern maps to find which forests still exist as they did years ago.” He paused then before he looked at Salazar seriously. “We must also seriously consider that the sword might have been laid in Hogwart’s own Myrkviðr.”

Salazar startled and ignored the mutters around him from the others. “But how?” He pressed. “Angantyr reigned some two hundred years before the vikings ever landed upon Scotland’s coasts. He would not have been aware of Hogwart’s forest. He reigned before Hogwarts was even an idea.”

With a nod, Einar clasped his hands together. “This is true. At the time, Hogwart’s forests would not have even carried the name of Myrkviðr. However, we have to take into account that Angantyr had magical companions. The communities here and the communities in the North were aware of each other long before the mundane raiders arrived on the shores of the isles, though it was only after the raids began here that both communities started to mingle. Hogwart’s Myrkviðr is far from where anyone might have thought to think Tyrfing was laid to rest.”

Blaise watched Einar, but then turned his attention to Salazar. “It’s a bit off the wall, but he is right. No one would think to search for Tyrfing in the Forbidden Forest of all places. It wouldn’t hurt to attempt it on the off chance that the sword really is there. Although, it’s not even fully mapped out so it would be a dangerous expedition.”

Salazar sighed softly and gave a slow nod. “Yes, we might as well try.” They did not have the luxury of dismissing any leads they might have, no matter how slim they might seem. “Hati and Skoll, I want you to be part of the expedition, to provide protection in the forest. I will speak with Charlie and Bill about the plan so that, once we have organized the team, we can focus on the details.”

“We want to help too,” the twins piped up, their voices eager. Salazar looked over to them to see that George had looped his arm over his twin’s shoulders. The two flashed him mirroring grins when his attention turned to them.

Salazar gave them a shake of his head. “I want you to help me with the search for the Cup,” he told them instead. “I wish to speak with Black, see if he has any ideas where his cousin might have stashed it. I want you both to help me follow any lead that he might give us.” They gave him a bit of pout, but agreed after a moment. Salazar did not think they would give him too much trouble since they knew the importance of their task.

As the serious conversation came to an end, talk turned instead to Yule. For another hour, the group socialized together as they kept the conversation light and over a range of topics. Eventually, they started to filter out bit by bit, though Luna remained behind and the two retreated to Salazar’s lab for more work on the potions they had already started to brew. After everything that had happened over the last few days, it was a nice way to relax and just work on something that he enjoyed. Luna made for good company as well.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

As the serious conversation came to an end, talk turned instead to Yule. For another hour, the group socialized together as they kept the conversation light and over a range of topics. Eventually, they started to filter out bit by bit, though Luna remained behind and the two retreated to Salazar’s lab for more work on the potions they had already started to brew. After everything that had happened over the last few days, it was a nice way to relax and just work on something that he enjoyed. Luna made for good company as well.

Chapter Seventeen

On the morning of December 24th, Salazar entered the Slytherin commonroom to see that all of the students were there as they waited for him. In the afternoon before, he had asked the prefects to spread his message that he wanted to speak with them all the next morning. He greeted them as he made his way down the steps and took his spot before the hearth so he could see all of the gathered faces. He could see the confusion in their expressions as they wondered why he had gathered them, but he had to appreciate how much more welcoming they were of him than they were at the beginning of the school year.

“I hope that your break from classes has been enjoyable,” Salazar started out as he spread his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “Everyone has worked hard this year and I am so proud of you all. Especially with all of the upheaval the school has gone through, and with Slytherin House in particular.” He gave them a small smile then and winked at one of the first years that had gone to the Yule celebration. She covered her mouth with her hands to hide her smile. Salazar chuckled in response and gave a slight bow. “As your Head of House, I am so proud of you. Even the other Heads have good things to say about you all.”

He was quiet a moment then before he sighed and placed one hand on one of his hips. “Though I wanted to express my pride in all of you, that is not what I wanted to gather you all here for. Instead, I was curious to see how many of you have family that resides as refugees within the school? If you could raise your hands for me.” He watched as a good number of students raised their hands. Salazar was glad to see that it was more than a handful, but there were still woefully few of them. He gave them a small nod. “Thank you, you can put your hands down for now.” He looked over all of them again. “I know most of you do not celebrate the holiday of Christmas. I, myself, do not.” He suppressed a smile at the quick grins it earned him from a few of the students. “Though the holiday has lost most of its religious connotations, it is still a time for family and gift giving. There is nothing wrong with enjoying the atmosphere.”

After a quick pause, Salazar gave another small sigh. “Now, you are all aware that our illustrious headmaster has agreed to allow students with family here to sleep overnight with them on the refugee floor. Those of you with family here, how many of you plan to take advantage of the headmaster’s generosity tonight?” He waited as a number of them raised their hands. He gave them a nod. “Splendid. I hope you all enjoy the time spent with them.” He looked out over the rest of his students, not surprised to see that some of them appeared bitter or wistful. He was quiet for a long moment before he spread out his hands. “Are we not all family? Here, in this House, when we have no others, do we not have each other’s back?”

Salazar chuckled then. “Tonight, why not think of me as your older brother? As your elder, it is my duty to watch over you all. Just for tonight, feel free to call me Herrick.” He was not much older than them really. He certainly was not old enough to be a father to any of them. “It has all been prepared already, so let us who have no other family with us tonight sleep down in the commonroom here together. It is not a requirement, but this is something that I hoped you all might enjoy. I have a few things planned, but then tomorrow morning we will also have breakfast served here in the commonroom. I have already approved it with the headmaster.”

Once he had made his announcement, Salazar fell silent to allow the students to respond. There was silence for a long moment, but then loud chatter immediately erupted amongst the students. He had never seen them so animated, so it warmed his heart to be witness to it. “I, along with Professor Zabini, will be down here just after curfew tonight,” he spoke up then so the students quieted once more. “Professor Zabini is also allowing you all to call him by his first name for tonight.” Anyone older than third year remembered Zabini as a fellow student anyways.

Salazar looked over their bright faces and allowed himself a smile. “I would recommend that you all prepare for bed before I arrive tonight so that you will be comfortable. Do not worry about anything else, unless you have any pillows or blankets that you prefer to sleep with. I have taken care of everything else. So, I will see you all tonight.” He excused himself then, a smile on his lips as he listened to the excited chatter that sprang up behind him as he left.

As he left the dungeons, Salazar was rather lost in his own thoughts so nearly stepped into another adult. He quickly pulled up short and focused himself. “Ah, forgive me,” he started out, but went silent when he realized that it was Professor McGonagall. After his rather abrupt departure after his meeting with the Headmaster and other Heads of House at the beginning of the year, the budding friendship he had started with the Gryffindor Head of House had quickly died. They had remained civil, but it had been no more than that.

Salazar cleared his throat. “I was lost to my thoughts so I was not paying attention to where I was going. Excuse my rudeness,” he said evenly before he made to take a step around the older woman.

“Ah, actually, Professor Evans,” McGonagall’s hesitant voice called out, her normally stern voice unusually soft. “Do you think I could have a moment of your time?”

At the quiet question, Salazar stopped and turned to face the woman again. He could barely hold back his surprise, unable to speak for a long moment. Finally, he gave a small nod of his head. “Yes, of course.” It would not hurt to see what she wanted, though he was surprised by the switch in language. Did she not want to be overheard?

Relief flashed over McGonagall’s face and she made a small gesture with her hand. “Wonderful. Would you follow me up to my office, then?” Salazar only nodded, so the Transfiguration professor led the way up to her classroom and then to her office. Once there, she took her seat behind her desk and offered Salazar some tea. When he agreed, she called for a house elf to bring them the offered tea.

While they waited, McGonagall initiated general conversation as she asked about his break. As he followed along, he told her about the potions that he experimented with along with Luna. It was after they had both gotten their tea that McGonagall heaved a heavy sigh. “Professor Evans, I wanted to apologize to you.”

Thrown by the sudden statement, Salazar paused with his teacup in hand and was silent for a long moment. “Apologize, Professor McGonagall?”

The witch gave a sharp nod, her posture rigid. “I wanted to apologize for how I have treated you until now.”

“You have done nothing to offend me, to harm me,” Salazar argued softly.

But McGonagall shook her head. “No, Professor Evans. We had such good rapport just before term, but I threw it all away just because of a difference of opinions.”

She was not wrong, though Salazar thought they had remained civil afterwards. They had interacted only as distant colleagues and he had remained indifferent before the older professor. So, what had changed? “Why wait so long to come forward? We have remained colleagues and I have had no feud with you,” he asked evenly, curious.

McGonagall cleared her throat and took a sip of her tea. “Things have been quiet this past month,” she began. “At least, nothing more so than what has gone on for some time. With winter break giving us the much needed breath of air we have needed, I have taken time to reflect.” She was quiet for a moment, her lips pressed in a firm line. “I have done everything in my power to take my duties seriously. As both deputy headmistress and as Gryffindor’s Head of House. However, I have let myself wear blinders.”

As she took another sip of her tea, Salazar idly ran his fingers over the lip of his own teacup. “Many people have because it has gone on for so long,” he said softly. “It is something that has gone on for a very long time, before even you came to be at Hogwarts.”

“It does not excuse me,” McGonagall said shortly. Her shoulders slumped a fraction then and her rigid spine seemed to loosen. “I was born as a half-blood,” she told Salazar suddenly. “My father was a muggle Presbyterian minister.” And that would explain so much on its own, Salazar thought but said nothing. When he remained silent, McGonagall continued. “I, as a young woman, fell in love with a muggle man, but had to let him go because I could not give up my life as a witch. After my doomed love, I worked for a time in London in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I saw first hand the injustice of our society, how purebloods treat any they feel are lesser than them. I gave up on that life because I missed Scotland. I missed Hogwarts.” A small smile played about the severe woman’s thin lips. “I was granted a position here under Albus, who was Head of the Transfiguration department at the time.”

Salazar frowned slightly and quickly took a sip of his tea to hide it. For a long time, Hogwarts had served as the heart of academic research. There had been entire departments for subjects research and masters would take on apprentices, with offices and classrooms within the castle. There was more than enough room. However, the practice had ended sometime during the first war against Riddle. There were various guilds still for the different fields of magic, but they were scattered across the wizarding world and there was no localized headquarters anymore. Not unless one wanted to count the Ministry of Magic, but it was probably best to discount them for now. The Ministry had been little more than record holders for guilds anyhow.

“I remember the prejudice from my time here as a student,” McGonagall said suddenly. “I saw it firsthand and I let it colour my actions as a professor. I told myself that I would treat all students equally. I have done that to an extent, however I have come to realize that I have allowed myself to put Gryffindor on a pedestal. In an effort to help muggleborn or halfblood students, I blinded myself to everything else that happened in these halls. I have also realized that my memories of my schooling have become blurred. Perhaps I only remembered what I wanted to remember.”

When the professor went quiet, Salazar waited patiently for her to continue. However, she only stared down at her teacup and said nothing. Finally, Salazar cleared his throat softly. “Professor McGonagall?” He prompted gently.

Though he had tried to not startle her, the Transfiguration professor still jumped. “Oh, dear me. Pardon me,” she said quickly before she set her cup down. “For the longest time, I only remembered the jeers and other nonsense that the Slytherin students pulled during my time as a student. However, I have reexamined my memories and I have realized that such behaviour was not exclusive to Slytherin House. Rather, it was expected of them and they hardly went to any lengths to hide the behaviour. But even then, it was only a few of the loudest voices amongst the students that acted in this manner.” Her lips thinned further as she folded her hands in her lap. “Bullying against anyone that was not pureblood happened in all of the Houses by members of their own House. It was little things, actions or comments that were subtle and easily overlooked. Professors turned a blind eye. Then I became part of the problem.”

Salazar sighed softly and set his own teacup down on the table. “Noone is entirely at fault. Noone is entirely innocent,” he said softly in response. “What matters now is that we take steps to correct the wrongs of the past.” He gave her a small smile then as he settled back in his chair. “To be honest with you, I had been looking forward to tea with you at the beginning of the year.”

McGonagall looked like she could not hold back a small wince. Salazar quickly shook his head. “I do not place blame on you for what happened. There has been a lot that has gone on over the last few months and I know we both have been busy with our many duties.” He hesitated a moment before he leaned over to pick up one of the biscuits on the tray centered on McGonagall’s desk. He needed to do something with his hands. “I will also be honest with you and admit that I was not in the best mental state when I first arrived here at Hogwarts. I was still reeling from a betrayal from my closest friends and the loss of my brother.” He broke off a piece of the biscuit. “Over the course of these months, I have begun to heal.”

With a small smile, Salazar met McGonagall’s eyes. “If I am right in my assumptions of your intentions for your invitation here, I would like to extend my hand in friendship.”

Softness eased the harsh lines of the professor’s face and she gave a relieved smile. “I would very much like that, Professor Evans. Please, really do call me Minerva.”

“Only if you call me Herrick,” Salazar responded.

Minerva gave Salazar a nod as she picked her teacup back up. “I would be honoured to do so,” she said with a lighter tone, the spark of mischief back in her eyes. “I am curious, though. Where did you grow up? Your accent is most definitely Scottish, though there are tones here and there that are unfamiliar to me.”

Salazar was quiet a moment as he debated how to answer the question. Part of him did not want to outright lie to the woman now that they had started to finally build a friendship, but he could not yet come out with the truth. “My family estate is an unplottable piece of fen in Katanes,” he stated before he paused. “Ah, that is Caithness. Katanes was the Old Norse name for the area.” The Slytherin estate, what was left of it and what he had shown Hermione, was truly located in Caithness. He did not actually answer the question as it had been asked, but let Minerva make assumptions from it as she willed. “I learned Old Norse from Einar and spent time among the Northern communities, so I likely picked up a bit of their accent.”

At his answer, Minerva nodded in acceptance but her expression was perhaps a bit brighter than before. “Oh, my, really? I, too, was born in the county of Caithness,” she explained. “I spent a good portion of my early childhood exploring the crumbling castles along the coast.”

Salazar chuckled softly and picked up his own teacup again. “Somehow, I cannot picture it,” he said. He had lived as Salazar in a time before castles that modern times understood them to be as the earliest castle in Scotland had been built around 1100 CE. With how wizards aged, he could have lived to see the construction of such a structure if he had not returned to the current time. He did remember the broch, however. They were the stone towers like the one that was the original heart of Hogwarts.

“Yes, I was quite the mischievous child,” Minerva said a little bashfully, though Salazar spotted the quick smile that flashed over her thin lips. He thought she was still just as mischievous, she just hid it better now. He kept that to himself though and only chuckled in response. Minerva gave another little smile and then she refilled her teacup. “I spent a lot of time near Dunnet actually,” she continued then.

With a small nod, Salazar hummed softly. “There is a small magical community near Dunnet,” he mused. “It was originally the homestead of a settler from the North, but eventually grew to a small village. There is mundane Dunnet, but nearby is the magical village of Dunnet.”

“Hm, yes,” Minerva said before she took a sip of her tea. “Although, I did not visit the magical side of Dunnet until after I had entered Hogwarts. There is a little magical library there that I would use to work on my summer assignments. There used to be a lovely little bakery there. I would stop by after my studies in the library, buy myself a cauldron cake and pumpkin juice.” As he listened to Minerva reminiscence, Salazar made a note to visit Dunnet sometime after the war was over. If he survived the war.

The thought quickly sobered him and he lowered his teacup. He had never really stopped to think about it before. He had worked tirelessly to stay one step ahead of the Dark Lord, but in the end he was going to have to face the man himself. Even with all of his preparations and backing, it did not guarantee he would win against a man decades older than him. Salazar had access to a wide range of magics, but the Dark Lord was a very dark wizard with intentions that contained no good in them anymore. It was very powerful, but incredibly dangerous magic. Even if Riddle did not have access to such magics, he still had many more years of experience and he was a madman without limits. Salazar was only prophesied to be the one who could defeat Riddle, but it did not guarantee it. He might not survive.

“Herrick?” Minerva’s voice broke through his thoughts.

Salazar startled and quickly raised his eyes to find that Minerva watched him with a concerned gaze. He quickly set his cup back down on the desk to hide the way that his hands shook. “Forgive me, Minerva,” he said softly before he stood up. “I just thought of something important that I had not thought of before, so I need to take my leave. I appreciate the invitation for tea and hope that we might be able to do this again soon. If you would excuse me.”

Minerva seemed worried still, but she gave him a nod and stood up to see him off. “Of course, Herrick. I look forward to when we both have time again to have tea together. I shall see you at dinner, then I hope.”

With goodbyes said, Salazar made his escape quickly. Part of him wanted to make his way to the Room of Requirement, but he was not sure if it would be occupied currently or not. It was possible that it was empty, so he took the chance and let his feet lead him towards the Room. He was fortunate enough to find the Room unoccupied as the door was not there. And, as he stepped up to the wall, he could feel Hogwarts as she practically vibrated in anticipation for what he might request. Salazar could not hold back a small smile as he placed his palm against the cool stone.

As he bowed his head, the dark haired man closed his eyes and called out to the magic within the stones. There were other ways to open the doorway, but this was the most intimate. It grounded him in a way. He could feel the way that the magic within the stones rose up to meet him and eagerly licked at his palms, so he let it know what he wanted. He needed a place to safely spar and to meditate, to clear his mind.

As soon as he focused on this need, he could feel the way that the energy contained within the walls suddenly blossomed out like a bolt of lightning. The blocks of stone that made up the wall started to ripple and fold into themselves until a door appeared. Salazar wasted no time as he opened the door to a familiar space. The meadow with its stone circle was still so achingly familiar, though the pain of memories had lessened. He wondered if it was the return of Harry’s memories that helped ease the pain, or if it was because of the relationships he had gained in this time. Whatever the case, Salazar followed the pathway up to the henge with little more than the feeling of nostalgia. He remembered the grief he had experienced the last time he had been in this guise of the Room, but it felt like a distant memory now.

As he passed between the standing stones of the henge, Salazar lightly brushed his fingers over the cool surface of the stones. He made his way towards the center of the henge and then lowered himself down onto his knees. As he rested back against his heels, the man placed his palms against his thighs and then closed his eyes. He wanted to work out the frustrations that had suddenly sunk into his limbs, but he knew that he would only hurt himself if he let himself go unchecked. He could feel even now the way his hands shook upon his thighs. With the prophecy that loomed over him… Salazar did not want to die.

‘You give yourself too little credit, Salazar Slytherin.’

Salazar’s head shot up to find that Fawkes had perched himself on one of the henge stones as the mythical bird had masked his presence from him until that moment. The creature had also invaded his thoughts, it seemed. “Stay out of my thoughts, firebird,” Salazar said testily as he carefully rose to his feet.

Fawkes made a soft trill and fluttered his scarlet wings. ‘When you were young, the scar fresh upon your brow, Albus Dumbledore realized what you bore in that mark. He did not have all of the pieces to the puzzle, but he knew that it meant Tom Riddle would return one day. For the greater good of the wizarding world, he had to think ahead and prepare for the inevitable.’

“He placed me with those relatives, to make me pliable,” Salazar cut in. “I have realized a few things as my memories return to me. I do not blame the Headmaster, though it is easy to forget about the consequences when one focuses too broadly.”

There was silence for a long moment before Fawkes cocked his head to the side. ‘Albus Dumbledore hoped that the soul shard in your scar would safeguard your life when you faced Tom Riddle.’

Salazar scowled at the proclamation and nearly turned on his heel to escape the phoenix. “So you tell me that I have forfeited my life because such a safeguard is gone?”

‘No,’ Fawkes said simply as he ruffled his feathers again. ‘You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, Salazar Slytherin. The future might not be an absolute, but you do not need to fear a certain death. Either by your own strength, or the strength of the allies you have gathered to your side, it is my belief that you will survive.’

“You have such faith in me,” Salazar muttered, his tone sarcastic.

Fawkes tilted his head as he watched Salazar and then spread his wings. ‘I do, Salazar Slytherin.’ With those parting words, the creature was gone.

Salazar dragged a hand across his face before he stared down at his calloused hands. His right hand in particular was more calloused than the other as it told the tale of his swordsmanship skills and use of a wand.

“I don’t know what ya talked about with the fiery bird, but you don’t look too pleased with the conversation.” The words came from a voice that stood just outside of the henge. Salazar looked up to find Skoll and Hati there, both with arms crossed over their chests. It looked like Hati had been the one to speak as Skoll’s attention was on his surroundings.

Salazar dropped his hands and regarded the two men. “Not many realize that Fawkes talks back,” Salazar replied finally, though he evaded the underlying question of Hati’s words.

“I’m sure there are a lot about phoenixes that most are unaware of,” Hati shot back. “But that doesn’t answer my question. What’s on your mind?”

For a moment, Salazar debated whether or not he would answer. Finally, he gave in. Whatever else might happen, he could trust this pair. “The Prophecy only has power because the Dark Lord gave it such. However, it also only declares the requirements for the one who has the potential to defeat the man. It never proclaims his defeat, never says that I might survive such an encounter.” He had the full attention of both twins now. “I fear I am not strong enough to defeat a wizard many times my senior.”

Hati suddenly bent down to scoop up two sheathed swords that rested against the nearest stone as if they had always been there. He tossed one at Salazar and unsheathed the one that remained in his hand. As soon as the blade was free of its sheath, Hati leapt at Salazar. The dark haired wizard had to quickly raise the sword and use the scabbard to block the strike, but directed it harmlessly to the side. As he jumped back to put distance between him and Hati, he swiftly freed the sword and threw the empty scabbard to the side. His eyes never left his opponent in front of him as the werewolf had recovered quickly and had his sword up once more.

“Don’t tell me that you have lost your edge,” Hati grit out as he leapt at Salazar once more. He brought his sword down as Salazar used two hands to bring his own blade up to block the strike. “If you lose your determination now, then you will fail. I don’t want to hear it.” The two blades slid against each other as Salazar guided Hati’s sword away from him. As Hati recovered, sparks suddenly flared down along the length of his blade and he thrust it forward into the distance between them. What looked like orange flames licked the metal of Hati’s sword as it traveled the length of the blade. It gathered in a ball at the very tip before it exploded out towards Salazar. It all happened in the span of a mere second.

As soon as the sparks of gathering magic had appeared around Hati’s blade, Salazar had recognized the intention. The swords they used had been specially made to conduct magic, though they were limited in their capacity as they were not much more than practice swords. Still, while the results would not be lethal, it would not be enjoyable to endure the consequences that would result if he took the brunt of the attack. So as soon as he realized Hati’s plan, Salazar gave a curse and quickly made a circle with his arm to rotate the sword and pointed the tip downward as he gathered magic through the focus. He was barely quick enough, though Hati’s jinx impacted soundly with the shield that Salazar managed to hastily raise.

The shield shattered, but it had dispersed the jinx harmlessly. Salazar was already on the move as he dashed through the last flickering shards of magic, his sword raised. To win a battle, one must seize the initiative to take control of the fight. To seize control was to understand what was necessary to get the job done, to use whatever tools were available, and know when it was necessary to use them. Yet, at the same time, one was to fight with honour. If one taunted or went for cheap shots, it was more than just the loss of honour. It was to become cocky and invited failure. Failure could mean injury or death. So Salazar said nothing as his sword met with Hati’s and he drew upon his own magic. Yellow sparks like lightening crackled along the fuller until they reached where their blades made contact. Hati broke off with a curse and reeled back. Salazar continued to press Hati.

They traded blow after blow, but eventually Hati dropped down onto one knee and buried the tip of his sword into the compact earth beneath their feet. As he panted softly, he leaned against the sword as he raised his other hand to brush his sweaty hair from his eyes. Across from him, Salazar remained on his feet though he too breathed heavily. Hati watched as a bead of sweat lazily rolled down the wizard’s jaw before he raised his eyes to meet Salazar’s. “Have I drilled in my point?” He said once he had caught his breath. With a grunt, he dragged himself back fully to his feet. “Maybe you don’t have the years of experience that the Dark Lord has, but you have more than just magic at your disposal. You have your blade and you have ours. You have an entire army at your back. You will live. You will be victorious.”

Salazar wordlessly bent down and retrieved the scabbard that lay abandoned. Once he had slid the blade back into its sheath, he turned once more to face Hati. “You drive your lesson in with the power of your hands,” he said lightly before a small smirk played at his lips. “However, I shall concede. You have made your point.” He did not think he could completely banish the dark thoughts of whether or not he would survive the end of the war, but he had to admit that Hati was right. He was not alone and he had many people by his side. A great number of them were decent warriors as well.

After a moment, Salazar tossed the sword back at Hati. The werewolf managed to catch it, though he fumbled some in surprise at the sudden action. Salazar smirked a bit as he regarded the two men. “What brought you here originally?” He asked curiously.

It was Skoll that stepped forward now as he joined his brother’s side. “We actually were looking for you,” he said. “Hogwarts let us know that you were headed here. We had some thoughts about where to place the Northmen’s camp.”

“According to my correspondence with Hilde, there does not seem to be a set timeline yet for them to set sail,” Salazar said thoughtfully before he concentrated on the room for a moment. The image around them seemed to quiver before it bled away to reveal a room not unlike the house he had visited in Fyrkat. Salazar led the way over to a table and then called for a house elf to bring them their midday meal. It was close enough to lunchtime that they might as well eat during their discussion. “In regards to her latest message, preparations seem to be going well and they hope to set sail sometime in the new year. Depending upon conditions of the sea, fair seas will allow them to arrive within three to six days of when they set sail. However, even with magic and wizarding shipping routes at their aid, it is still winter. So, it will likely exceed a week. If they leave at the earliest date past the new year, it will give us two weeks at the latest to be prepared for them.” He still needed to let the Headmaster know, as well.

Skoll and Hati both took seats across from Salazar as several platters of food appeared before them at the table. Given the dietary requirements of the two wolves across from him, the food favoured heavily towards meat. There was a shepherd’s pie that seemed to be more meat than vegetable, if one disregarded the mashed potatoes that adorned it. Another platter looked to contain thick slices of roasted chicken, though there were some root vegetables to accompany it. Another tray held fresh baked bread rolls, of which Salazar made sure to snag one.

Once he had a bit of the shepherd’s pie, Salazar mainly served himself from the roasted chicken and the vegetables provided with it. He then left the twins to the rest of the food with the knowledge they would likely devour the rest of it. “You mentioned you have a location for the camp?” Salazar asked as he tore off a piece of his roll and scooped it through the gravy of the shepherd’s pie.

Hati stuffed a piece of chicken into his mouth and gave a quick nod. Once he had swallowed, after a few quick chews, he chased the bite down with a bit of his juice. Looked to be white grape today, Salazar concluded with a small sniff and a sip as he waited for Hati’s full reply. “There is a clearing that Hermione says was used by Beauxbaton’s during her fourth year. It’s just past the empty groundskeeper’s hut. It’s not too far of a trek from the lake where they’ll dock and not too far from the entrance doors to the castle either, but it’ll provide some privacy for the camp.”

As he took a bite of his own chicken, Salazar took a moment to visualize the grounds and remember the area that Hati mentioned. “It is not too far from where we meet in the mornings,” he observed thoughtfully. “Yes, that would likely be the best place for a camp that does not take them too far away from the castle.” Their presence would not be able to be hidden, but at least it would be harder for nosy students to snoop about.

“The warband will likely bring most of their own supplies,” Salazar said as he picked up a piece of roasted potato. “We will just need to be able to provide enough space for the camp. The clearing that houses Grani’s paddock is larger than the first clearing, but is a little farther away. I believe it is the old paddock that was used to house the dragons during Harry’s fourth year, though those memories are still a little hazy.” He shook his head and looked between the two men across from him. “Hilde never mentioned how large the warband will be, so we will prepare the first clearing but keep the second clearing in reserve if needed.”

Skoll grabbed his goblet and took a drink before he spoke. “They will probably have their own wards for their camp, but we can survey the clearings to clear out any obstacles.”

Salazar gave a nod, but he did not think that there would be too much that needed to be done. He just needed to speak with the Headmaster about their arrival. This was good since he had another task for the twins. “Tomorrow I will be sitting down with Charlie and Bill about the expedition into the Forest. I would like for you both to join us for the discussion. If they are agreeable, I want you all to head out as soon as possible. It will enable you to hopefully return in time to help me greet the Northern warband.”

Hati gave Salazar a grin before he stuffed some chicken into his mouth. Once he swallowed, he leaned against the table. “We’re both looking forward to exploring the Forest. We have done some exploring on the outskirts of the Forest and it has been rather exciting. The centaur herd leaves us be, but the acromantula colony might become a problem at some point.”

Before he could take a bite of one of his carrot slices, Salazar stopped with a blink. “Excuse me? Acromantula colony? Why is there an acromantula colony in the Forest?” He suddenly had a vague recollection of spiders from what he thought might have been Harry’s second year, but the memory was still fuzzy.

Skoll tilted his head a little bit in confusion. “Yeah. Didn’t you know? It’s a fairly large colony.”

Salazar frowned deeply as he leaned back a little in his seat. Long ago, the forest had likely started as a small patch of woodland that became home to a herd of centaurs. Centaurs themselves originated in Greece, but had eventually migrated along with Roman magicals. When Rome invaded the British Isles around 55 BCE, they had introduced new magical creatures to the Isles. By the time he and the other three founders had chosen the land that would become home to the school, the forest had already been well established. The herd of centaurs had been the guardians of the forest, but there had been other creatures as well. However, there had never been a colony of acromantula. For one, they were not native to the Isles and were a more recently discovered species. Salazar only knew of them because of vague memories and recent research into modern potions ingredients.

“Myrkviðr has always been an old forest, even when I first laid eyes on it. It has secrets and dangers in its dark depths, but the centaur herd guards it well,” Salazar said before he paused a moment. “We will have to gain their permission to head into the depths of Myrkviðr, but I will help with that discussion.” Centaurs were not particularly fond of humans, but Salazar had been a liaison during their original negotiations with the herd at the time of the school’s construction. The wizard picked up his goblet then and took a quick sip before he carefully set it back down. “Acromantula are a new species, discovered only in 1794 by wizards in Borneo. The colony is a newer addition to Myrkviðr. I think, perhaps, established new in the last fifty some years.”

There was silence for a long moment before Salazar suddenly scowled lightly and stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. “I do not like that acromantula inhabit the forest so near to a school full of children. It is not likely that the Dark Lord could strike some sort of deal with the oversized spiders, but they are just as likely as to be a danger to the school if left unchecked.” Perhaps it was something else he would need to discuss with the centaurs. Yet another thing to worry about, Salazar thought with a sigh.

“You need to relax more, but you just keep piling more stuff onto your plate. Too bad you can’t go for a proper run with us,” Hati said suddenly as he disrupted Salazar’s thoughts. Salazar blinked a little at the man, seeing that Hati’s expression echoed on his twin beside him. “You need to really just let loose,” Hati pressed on before he quickly stuffed the last of his chicken into his mouth to stop his speech.

Salazar raised his eyebrow at the two, but said nothing for a long moment. It was enough to make the two wolves fidget beneath his gaze. After a moment longer, Salazar finally gave a smirk and decided to put them out of their misery. “The sword fight earlier is not enough to let loose? As you say.” He asked, though his voice was laced with amusement.

“It’s a start,” Skoll muttered as he poked at his mashed potatoes.

It was true that he had some time that afternoon and evening as he did not have anything planned until after dinner. He might have worked on his potions, which would have been enough to allow him to relax, but a part of him wanted to do something that would include the twins. For that, he might have an idea. “Finish your meals,” he told them before he finished off the last of his own food.

Hati and Skoll were quick to gobble down the rest of their food, fast enough that Salazar had to question if they had really chewed at all. He gave a roll of his eyes before he stood up from his seat. The twins quickly followed after him as they traded confused looks. “Going to tell us what your plan is?” Hati tried to press him, but Salazar only threw a sly grin over his shoulder and said nothing.

As Salazar led the way down out of the castle, the twins continued to try to pester him so he would reveal his plans. They were unsuccessful, so had been reduced to pouts as they finally arrived in a clearing at the edge of the Forest. Once there, Salazar removed his wand from its sheath and then gave the two wolves another sly grin. “You said we should go for a run, did you not?” He said before he concentrated on his magic. He had done this a few times, but had never progressed enough to fully master it.

The change, as it took over him, was slow and uncomfortable. He had to focus to ensure that his clothes were transformed along with him, though the feeling of his clothes as they melded into his skin was an odd one. As he fell forward, he kept hold of his wand until the last possible moment before it too seemed to meld to the skin of his forearm as it changed. Shortly after, a large wolf remained where a man once stood. Salazar took a seat and then stared at the twins across from him as he waited for their response, his expression as regal as an animal could portray.

Both Hati and Skoll stared at him for a long moment before they both let out a whoop and started to strip down quickly. Unlike the animagus magic that allowed him to transfigure his clothes along with the change, the werewolf transformation was fundamentally different. If they transformed with their clothes on, they ran the risk that they would destroy the garments. They unceremoniously stuffed their clothes into a hollow of a tree, then transformed nearly as one. Before Salazar knew it, he found himself at the bottom of a pile. He would forever deny the yelp that escaped him as the two piled on.

There were many differences between his animagus form of a wolf and that of a werewolf. The largest, most noticeable, difference was that of size. Both Hati and Skoll were the size of direwolves, or perhaps even larger, but Salazar only had the size of a normal Eurasian wolf. Underneath two wolves of the twins’ size, Salazar felt more like a trapped rabbit than a large wolf. Still, a few well placed kicks forced both Skoll and Hati to scatter. As they plopped down away from him, Salazar bared his teeth some. Mind your manners, is what his snarl said. Hati and Skoll gave him wolfish grins as their tongue rolled out of their mouths. Salazar thought they looked more like overgrown puppies.

With a roll of his dark green eyes, Salazar stood up and then turned with a flick of his tail to disappear into the trees of the Forest. He could hear Skoll and Hati follow close behind. It was lucky that he had already had the chance, though it had been a long while since then, to run on four paws. It allowed him to not be as ungainly as a pup. Still, it took a moment to let instinct take over and to adjust to four paws. Once he had his feet firmly beneath him, Salazar took off to lead a chase around the borders of the school. Hati and Skoll had a longer stride than he, but Salazar’s smaller size allowed him to be more agile.

As he ran, Salazar jumped over fallen logs and under low branches in an effort to shake the pursuit of the other two. It was all in good fun and Salazar could hear their happy barks behind him every so often. It really was nice to be able to stretch his legs like this, so perhaps he would work to master the animagus transformation. It might have its uses otherwise as well.

Still, his stamina was not as good as the two werewolves. By the time they made it back to the clearing, Salazar was left to pant. He plopped down inelegantly onto his bottom and stared at the other two balefully. They still looked too perky and full of too much energy. He closed his eyes then and concentrated carefully on the transformation magic. He thought it came more easily than before, but the transformation was still slow and uncomfortable.

“Your fur is as dark as your hair,” a voice said and Salazar turned to find that the twins had already turned back. They had already started to redress again as well. Hati was the one who spoke. “You also have a scar over your eye and down your muzzle in the same pattern as the scar on your face, did you know?”

Salazar hummed softly as he straightened his clothes and slipped his wand back into its holster. “Notable features often translate over onto the animal form,” he said as he lightly touched his scarred cheek. “So, it is no surprise that I would have this scar as well.”

Skoll shot him a wide grin. “So, you’re a wolf animagus. Funny thing, huh?”

With a snort, Salazar carefully stretched out his limbs. “Godric always liked to joke that I would be a snake,” he said after a moment. “I speak the language of the serpents and it is the symbol of my house.”

“Ah, but it fits, don’t it?” Hati said suddenly. “Wolves are bravery, loyalty, protection, and wisdom. Wolves can also be chaos and destruction. Fierce protectors.”

Skoll nodded seriously, though there was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “The son of Loki was a wolf and it had to have been inherited somehow, right?” Salazar could only breathe a heavy sigh and said nothing as Skoll came up and draped an arm about his shoulders. Hati and Skoll were family to him, but not in the bond like a father and sons. Or grandfather and grandsons. Nothing similar as that, so he still hated to hear any references to it. He held back his comments, though. “But why take so long to reveal this secret? It’s like you don’t trust us,” Skoll whined.

With a roll of his eyes, Salazar brushed his arm off. “I achieved that form while still in the past,” he said. “The requirements for the ritual are rather ridiculous and Godric bet me that I could not make it to the end. Before I could reveal to him that I had won our bet, he had his reason stolen from him by my brother’s manipulations.” He fought past the twist of his heart in his chest. “For a long time after, I had much more important things to worry about than an animagus form I had yet to truly master. Unlike the benefits that your lycanthropy awards you, my unmastered form has been of little use. It does not give me heightened senses or inhuman strength. I had no drive to master the transformation.”

There was silence for a long moment in the clearing before Salazar suddenly smiled. “But, it has been remiss of me. I would like to thank you for the inspiration to master my form. Our run was more freeing than I had expected.”

“You should come run with us in the mornings before everyone else joins. I think Blaise would enjoy the chance to run with you, too. And I know that dad would,” Hati butted in.

Salazar chuckled and shook his head. “I do not get enough sleep as it is some nights. I will not fully turn down your offer, but I will not be able to join you every morning.”

“Eh, we wouldn’t expect you to,” Skoll said with a dismissive flap of his hand. “But maybe join us tomorrow morning?”

“We shall see,” Salazar responded as he adjusted his cloak. He gave the two a small smile, thankful that he had them on his side.

There was a sudden commotion from the treeline in the direction of the school. “Saaaal!” The hated nickname was dragged out in an echo of overlapping voices. As the Weasley twins suddenly burst out of the trees, Salazar easily danced out of the way of their grabbing hands. He followed it up with quick stinging hexes that resulted in twin yelps as they landed in a pile in a clear patch of dirt. “Herrick,” one of them whined. Salazar turned to see that it was George, just glad that he had used his preferred name.

“If you need help with something, the shortening of my name will not put you in my good graces,” he said curtly. “I have said it before, Frederick. George.”

The two shared a grimace as they untangled themselves from each other. “Yes, quite. We wanted to find you because Sirius is back in the castle again and we wanted to question him about his cousin.”

Salazar straightened and then motioned with his hand. “Well, lead the way.” Black had been away from the castle for the last few days as he had not seen the man since their visit to Grimmauld Place. Salazar had assumed it was likely some sort of Order mission, but he still was not a true member of Dumbledore’s Order. He was trusted enough for some knowledge to be shared with him, but there were still some that were distrustful of him. Salazar thought that the headmaster and he shared a mutual wariness of each other. They were not enemies, but they circled each other in a metaphorical dance.

As Fred and George hopped to their feet, Salazar turned his attention to the Greyback twins. “You will have to excuse me,” he said with a slight bow. “Thank you for the run.”

As he turned on his heel, Fred and George gave the other twins little salutes before they flanked Salazar’s sides. “Sirius came back this morning,” Fred piped up then as they made their way through the copse of trees. “We wanted to go see him right away, of course, but then we figured that it would be better if we let him settle in a little bit.” The twins continued to echo each other as they spoke.

As they stepped out onto the snow covered grounds, Salazar followed a previously cleared path as the twins trailed behind. As they approached the doors to the castle, Salazar paused a moment and looked back towards Fred and George. “I want you to find Black and bring him up to the Room. I will go ahead of you,” he instructed. He figured the two men would have a better chance to convince Black to accept their invitation. He wanted a more neutral place to meet as well, so that was why he selected the Room. “Tell him that we have something important that we need to discuss with him, that it relates to the locket he helped retrieve.”

The twins gave him twin jaunty salutes, broad grins stretched across their mischievous faces. “Aye, aye, mon capitaine!” Salazar could only roll his eyes as he turned back around to head into the castle. In the Entrance Hall, he parted ways with Fred and George as they headed off up one staircase while he took another.

As he approached the Room, he debated how he wanted it to appear. He needed something comfortable, but neutral. Yet, at the same time he wanted to be able to put Black at ease. He thought he had an idea on how to do that. So, he guarded his heart and placed his hand against the cool stone of the castle’s wall. He closed his eyes and then took a deep breath as he concentrated on what he wanted. He wanted Godric’s retreat.

As the door materialized, Salazar hesitated for a long moment. Could he do this? A tangible reminder of what he had lost laid just behind that door. He had to do this. With a shaky breath, Salazar wrapped his hand around the handle and then pushed the door open soundlessly. What Salazar stepped into was styled after a tent that they had stayed in once before they had met Rowena and Helga. As a wizard’s tent, it had been spacious. This retreat of Godric’s was similar in style, though not exact. The man’s favoured scarlet and gold was found throughout the area, but surprisingly tasteful. The fabric of the tent was undyed linen, though there was a tapestry of Godric’s House crest.

A crudely carved table took the center of the tent, surrounded by rough stools. A centerpiece made by Godric himself, a project that Salazar had teased him about goodnaturedly. The table itself was littered still with parchments and a few scrolls. As he brushed one of them away, he found a book with its failing preservations charms. He carefully strengthened them before he cracked open the cover. Godric’s scrawl was the first thing to greet his eyes, so Salazar snapped the book shut and set it back down. As he did, a folded parchment caught his eye as his name was scrawled across the front. Curious against his better will, he picked it up.

However, before he could open it, the door opened again. Salazar carefully slid the parchment into the pouch on his belt before he turned to greet the three men that had entered. Black had a suspicious frown, though the twins looked around with open wonder. Their eager eyes caught on the tapestry, but quickly moved on to glide over the various shelves and chairs that were cluttered with Godric’s things. “What is this place?” Black asked suspiciously even as he approached the table. Salazar gathered up the parchments and scrolls to get them out of the way.

As he deposited the precious documents onto a mostly clear shelf, he responded to Black’s inquiry. “This is Godric’s retreat,” he told Black softly. He ignored the sharp looks that Fred and George sent his way as he focused on the older wizard. “You were in Gryffindor House, so I thought you might appreciate the connection to your Founder.”

“How did you know it was here?” Black pressed, but his expression had softened somewhat.

Salazar delicately took a seat on one of the stools as he brushed his fingers over the polished surface of the roughly hewn table. “It is one of the pieces left behind by the Founders,” he told the man. “The Room of Requirement hides many things, including things that have been forgotten for centuries.” As he spoke, his eyes fell upon a stand that supported a round shield and a sword. He quickly tore his gaze away and turned his attention fully to Black.

“You’re Head of Slytherin House. Did Slytherin have a retreat?” Salazar’s eyes snapped to George, the one who had spoken.

Not even sure how to respond to that, Salazar took a long moment to hold back the glare he wanted to level on the smirking redhead. “I suppose he might. I have heard that he enjoyed his potions, so I would think his laboratory would be a retreat. So to speak.”

“Could he have hidden a room, too?” That was Black’s voice and Salazar’s mouth nearly dropped open in surprise. He would not think that the man would be interested in such a thing, as Salazar thought they had veered into some dangerous territory.

After just another moment of hesitation, Salazar gave a slow nod. “I suppose it is possible.”

The twins took it as an invitation. “Room! Show us Salazar Slytherin’s retreat!” They called out before they dissolved into cackles. Salazar wanted to throttle them.

As the Room shimmered around them, Salazar hurriedly climbed to his feet so he would not end up flat on his back as the stool dissolved away with the rest of Godric’s room. The Room around them started to bleed into another, one that was painfully familiar. It could not truly be called his haven, but rather a space that he had often spent time in with Cayden before he had left the school. It contained many memories that he was not ready to face. Not yet.

His will would override that of the twin’s. So, with his heart a rabid drum in his chest, Salazar immediately reached out with his mind to Hogwarts. The ancient warmth of her sentience seemed to wrap around him almost curiously. Not this one, he nearly pleaded. Show us the stone circle instead! Around them, the Room seemed to shudder before the facade rapidly fell away before it had fully completed. Within moments, the familiar meadow and standing stones materialized around them. This, too, was full of memories, but it was memories of his time in this era and his time with Godric. His time with Godric left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, but they were memories he could bear.

“Booooring,” the twins suddenly drawled from behind him. Salazar nearly drew his wand, but was mindful of Black’s presence. Instead, he turned to them and gave them a sharp glare only.

He was lucky that Black did not seem to pay attention, his gaze on the standing stones around them. “What is so special about this place?” The man frowned. “Not something I would associate with Slytherin at all.”

“It is special because he and Godric spent many hours here together,” a voice said from the doorway. Salazar turned to find Einar there. The light elf gave him a smile before he turned back to Black as he entered the room on light feet.

Black looked the elf over with a small frown, though he luckily did not seem to be on edge. “How would you know that?” He pressed.

With a laugh, Einar passed through the standing stones to enter the henge. “I am sure that I have mentioned something of the sort before, but it is because I spent time with them here as well. The two of them would get into all sorts of mischief together,” the elf said as he glanced over to Salazar and then the twins. “Rowena had banned them from enjoying their spars while in the school courtyard as she said they both had a bad influence on the students. For a highborn man, Godric could have a rather vulgar mouth. Especially in the midst of battle.”

“What were they like?” Black asked in a tone that was almost quiet. “Both of them. Not just Godric.” Salazar turned his head away so he could not meet Einar’s eyes as he felt the elf’s gaze slide over to him and then to the twins again, as if to assess all of their reactions.

Einar hummed softly and lightly tapped his fingers against his chin. “Godric was a large man. Broad in shoulder and well built. He had to be to swing that sword of his around,” Einar remarked with a small laugh. “He had a large mane of hair, often untamed. It was such that Salazar would tease him that his mascot was a lion not for the bravery he boasted, but for his wild mane like that of a lion. His voice too was like a roar, if I recall. Deep and carrying. It was something that oft got him into trouble with one of the ladies. He liked to play the brute to downplay his intelligence, but he had a good heart. Many called him noble because of it as he was part of a knightage that would protect magicals who had been discovered in mundane communities. The first true witch-hunts did not appear until sometime during the 16th and 17th centuries, but mundanes even in earlier times could not always handle their magical children. Jealousy and fear would have them turn on their neighbors. Salazar, too, would sometimes join the knights on their rides.”

It was the last sentence that caused Black to startle. “What? But everyone has always said that Slytherin hated muggles and muggleborns, that he did not want to accept them into Hogwarts.”

Salazar tried not to sigh. He had tried to change the stories where he could, but there was only so much he could get away with without also exposing himself. His excuse of a Slytherin journal had been a weak excuse at best and he had been unsure how well it had been believed anyhow. He had resigned himself to the idea that he would be unable to change the evolved tales of the past. Salazar had not known how much Einar had spoken of his past with him and the rest of the Founders to others as he had not wanted to press.

“At that time, all magicals were wary of mundanes,” Einar suddenly spoke. “The land was in an era of turmoil and transition. Christianity had only come to the Isles within four hundred some years. The last of the pagan kings on the Isles died three hundred years before the founding of Hogwarts. It may seem like a long time, but the small pockets of magical communities still clung to their ancient beliefs. In many cases, there was little difference between magic and religion. Witches were often the healers of their mundane communities. If the true extent of their abilities was discovered, it may not mean execution but exile was just as much of a death sentence.” Einar shook his head then. “Salazar never hated mundanes or the magical children born of mundane parents. Rather, he was as wary of mundanes as everyone else. As for their magical children, it is my belief that his heart broke for them.”

There was silence as Black seemed to ponder this, but he shook his head. “But what about the stories then? Where did they come from? They had to have some sort of grain of truth.” Einar’s words were something that Black could put weight on. He had spoken of Godric without bias and it was entirely possible that he had known the Founders. But everything that Black had thought he had believed was now turned on its head. He did not know what to think anymore.

Einar shook his head. “I was not there for what happened. I arrived too late and Salazar had already disappeared. As had Godric, in search of him.” His eyes were sad as he looked over to one of the standing stones. “Salazar had an adopted brother named Cayden. The young man had been a special case in the newly opened school, accepted in as a fifteen year old. Just barely young enough to be able to teach control. Cayden had been born to mundane parents who had not taken well to learning of their son’s magic.” Einar met Black’s eyes again. “In that time, Hogwarts did what they could for students who did not have good home lives, but there had not been any available options for Cayden right away. So, Salazar had adopted him through a ritual to give him the blood of Slytherin.”

Salazar turned away then. He did not want to hear this next part. “None of us had known that Cayden’s mind was not well,” Einar spoke in barely more than a whisper. Salazar flinched, but luckily Black did not seem to notice. “Cayden was a young man, but he still managed to gather a handful of like minded wizards under his wing. He wanted to raise an army of mages to wipe out mundanes or put them under magical control.” Einar glanced over to Salazar, but quickly focused back on Black. “He had an obsession with his brother, wanted him to fight on his side. But he knew that the other Founders would only get in the way of his plans. So he poisoned the minds of the Founders against Salazar. He placed seeds of doubt in them, made these seeds blossom into wrong conclusions with subtle prods. Rowena said that the magic had broken by the next morning, but Salazar had already disappeared. Godric chased after him as soon as he realized what had happened.”

“What happened to Cayden? His brother’s actions were attributed to Slytherin, ah, Salazar, because he was the more well-known brother, right?” Black’s brow was heavily furrowed, a deep frown on his face.

As he flinched at the question, Salazar thought for a moment that he could not breathe. He stood there with a stony expression, but there was little blood left in his face. “Salazar stopped his brother’s plans, though by that time Cayden had already sired a son with a witch I never knew. The Slytherin line continued through Cayden, though they hid for several generations after Cayden’s son left Hogwarts and was never heard from again. However, Cayden’s madness seemed to have been passed down through his line even to the current Dark Lord.”

Black snorted then even though his brow was still furrowed. “Riddle likes to proclaim that he’s the Heir of Slytherin and descended from Salazar Slytherin himself. But that’s not even true.”

“What was Cayden’s son’s name? You said he went to Hogwarts as a child?” Salazar suddenly interrupted. He had known that Cayden had likely sired a child. Though he had his madness, he had also been charismatic in other ways. He had particularly enjoyed the company of women, so it was no surprise that Cayden had left behind a child. But this was the first he had heard of any sort of proof of it. That child, that he had never known, had been his nephew.

Einar was quiet for a long moment before he bowed his head a little. “Ten years after Salazar’s disappearance, Rowena and Helga welcomed Beorhtsige Slytherin into the school. He entered Slytherin house and quietly spent the entirety of his schooling there before he disappeared into the world after he graduated. He inherited the language of serpents, proof of his lineage.”

Salazar hated this. He had been a blind fool to Cayden. He had felt for the child he had first seen himself in, but had blinded himself to the warning signs Cayden had exhibited in the few years he had known him. He had fallen for Cayden’s lies and charisma. Yet, he still loved Cayden. He had still killed his brother by his own hand.

“Einar, I think that is enough for today,” Salazar said suddenly. “Black, you are more than welcome to continue to discuss the Founders with Einar, if he is willing. However, I had asked for your audience for another matter and it seems that we have fallen off track.”

Black blinked silently for half a moment before he grunted softly and gave a sharp nod. “Yes. The twins mentioned it was related to the locket.” He glanced over to Einar, but Salazar only gave a small smile.

“I can come find you in your office later, Herrick,” Einar said graciously. “I wanted to discuss our expedition with you, but I can wait.”

It was probably something best discussed later, so it was not in front of Black. Salazar trusted the man enough to know he would not betray them to the Dark Lord, but he wanted as little people as possible to know that they were about to scout the nearby forest for Tyrfing. The less people who knew, the less likely something would reach the wrong ears. “Yes, thank you, Einar. Perhaps we could share dinner together tonight and discuss it over our meal.” Hogwart’s christmas feast would be held the next night, not that Salazar cared either way about his attendance. Still, as part of the staff, he was expected to attend.

Einar gave Salazar a small bow. “Of course. I will meet you down there later.” He disappeared out the door then.

Salazar breathed out and ran a hand over his face before he looked over to Black. “I apologize that we have gotten off track.” He looked around them then. “Hogwarts, my dear, if you could provide us with something a little more suitable?” The room quivered around them again and Salazar could feel the warmth of happiness wash over them. He worried a moment that Hogwarts might become a little overzealous, but the room that solidified them was familiar and relatively neutral. It looked like the hall that they had waited in before the ritual to fix the wardstone. It felt like a lifetime ago, back before everything had very nearly spiraled out of his control. Somehow, it helped soothe him.

“What is this place?” Black suddenly asked, which broke Salazar from his thoughts. Salazar invited the man over to sit at the table.

As he settled on the bench, the twins took seats on either side of him. “A place I remember from Fyrkat,” Salazar explained. “It is a settlement in the Northern communities.”

Black nodded in acceptance before he finally took a seat across from Salazar. The wizard leaned his arms against the table then, his expression somber. “Alright. What did you need from me then?"

After he took a moment to shake off the last tendrils of melancholy, and put his emotions into a tight box, Salazar breathed out a soft sigh. “You understand what a horcrux is, correct?”

“Yes. Albus gave us some information on it,” Black agreed tonelessly. “The locket that Reggie died for is one.”

Salazar gave a nod as he asked the Room for some parchment and a quill with ink. “Correct. I am not sure how much the Headmaster has explained to you, but we believe that there are seven of these soul shards in total.” He started to write down the information so Black would have a visual. “So far we have destroyed three of them for sure. There was Tom Riddle’s diary, the Slytherin locket, and the ring with Arawn’s hallow. We are aware of the general locations of two more. One we believe to be Nagini, who remains by Riddle’s side. Another we believe to be Ravenclaw’s diadem, which is located somewhere here in the castle.”

The expression that was on Black’s face was one of revulsion as he placed his hand over the lower portion of his face. “What a sick man,” he muttered. “Knew he was fucked up in the head, but… Seven bleedin’ horcruxes.” He raised his eyes from the parchment and lowered his hand. “You’ve only named five. What are the other two?”

At the question, Salazar hesitated. He did not have a good record with Black over mentions of the man’s godson. It was painful enough to have hazy memories of a man with Black’s face and knowing that he could not yet come clean to him. He still had no idea how Black would react and part of him feared rejection. It was with his hesitation that Salazar answered the question. “The first one the Headmaster believes to be Hufflepuff’s Cup. I am inclined to agree based upon the evidence that the Headmaster has given me. As for the other…” He trailed off before he took a quick breath to gather his courage. “The last one we believe to be Harry Potter’s scar.”

Black was immediately on his feet as his palms slammed down onto the tabletop. “No! Absolutely not! You’re wrong!” He shouted across the table, an action that almost made Salazar reel back with his wand drawn in defence.

“Sit down, Black,” Salazar said with a frigid tone that coloured the edges of his voice. Black sat as ordered, startled into compliance. Before the man could open his mouth again, Salazar raised up his hand. “Headmaster Dumbledore agrees with me that the scar is the Dark Lord’s last horcrux, unknowingly splintered off when the madman attacked the Potters that night.” He softened his voice then and set his hand back down upon the table once more. “Just because the scar contains a horcrux, it does not mean that Harry Potter needs to die to extract it.” He was very much alive, thank you very much. However, it did mean that he did not have much time before he needed to come clean.

With a small growl that caught Salazar’s attention, Black curled his hands into fists. “Why tell me this, then, huh? If I knew where Harry was, then wouldn’t I have gone to save him already?”

“This is not about Harry Potter,” Salazar said firmly, which seemed to bring Black up short. The man could barely stammer out a question, so Salazar quickly took pity upon him. “The first horcrux that was destroyed was Tom Riddle’s diary. It had been previously in the care of Lucius Malfoy,” he explained to the older man. “It is not a stretch to believe that the Dark Lord entrusted another of his soul shards to one of his loyal followers, someone who would follow without question. If Lucius Malfoy had already been entrusted with one of the horcruxes, there is one other person who comes to mind as a candidate for another.”

Luckily, it seemed the Black had caught on quickly. “Bella,” he said gravely as he sat back in his seat. “She was always strange as a child. The Black madness they called it.” Black frowned deeply as he dragged a hand through his hair. “She loves Riddle in her own twisted way. Yes, I can see him giving her a horcrux to protect.” He raised his grey eyes to meet Salazar’s own dark green orbs. “You want to know where she might have squirreled it away.”

Salazar inclined his head. “Yes. You would know her best out of anyone else we can trust with this information.” Black crossed his arms over his chest in thought as he stared down at the tabletop. Salazar took the time to reminisce over how things had changed since he had first met Black as Salazar Slytherin. It had certainly been a rocky start and Salazar could only place part of the blame on himself. He had arrived at the castle with defences made of stone as thick as Hogwarts’ own walls. There were now gates through some of those walls, he decided as he glanced at the twins who quietly sat on either side of him. They had remained as silent sentinels beside him through the entire conversation, unusual for them. Salazar wondered if it was guilt that kept them quiet.

“Bella might have originally hidden the artifact at Lestrange manor,” Black said suddenly. Salazar pulled his attention away from the twins to focus back on the man that sat across from him. “However, it was raided in the early days after she was sent to Azkaban along with her husband and brother-in-law. Something like a horcrux would have stood out even against other dark artifacts. So, I doubt that it is there.”

With a small shake of his head, Salazar leaned against the table. “Not necessarily. If the horcrux was moved at any point after the rekindling of the war, it could have ended up there.”

Black rubbed at his mouth before he gave a little nod. “It is possible. We do suspect that the manor has been used as one of the bases that Riddle rotates through.” If the horcrux was there, then it would not be an ideal location to try to infiltrate. “However, I believe it might be possible that it would be stored in her vault,” Black continued. “The protections of a vault far outpace the protections of a manor that has already been raided once.”

“Gringotts,” Salazar murmured. “A goblin run bank with goblin protected vaults.” That offered up its own host of difficulties. He crossed his arms across his chest with a deep frown. “Would you, as a blood relative, have access to her vault?”

After he considered it, Black gave a shake of his head. “I doubt it. She would have gained access to the Lestrange vault after her marriage to Rodolphus and she wouldn’t have put anything of value into the Black vaults that I could have possibly gotten my hands on. Especially after the Ministry pardoned me. She would have to petition to enter the Black vaults anyways.”

Well, this could be a problem. Salazar frowned deeply as he mused over the problem. The bank, in accordance to his research, had been founded in 1474. However, he had once had dealings with goblins long ago. They were notoriously difficult to bargain with, as both he and Godric had found out when Godric had commissioned his famous sword. Goblins also had long memories, which could be unfortunate if he tried to request an audience.

“Herrick, if you’re going to break into Gringotts, we want to join you,” the twins suddenly piped up eagerly. Salazar blinked in confusion for a moment before he glanced over to the two men. They looked entirely too eager at the prospect.

“Who says I plan to break into a goblin run bank?” Salazar asked haughtily. He ignored the twins as they started to cackle. One could not say that to break into a goblin run bank was a particularly bright idea, however it was exactly something that he might have done with Godric by his side. They always seemed to bring out the worst in each other. He could not stop the wistful smile that caught the edges of his lips.

Though he sat across from the older wizard, Salazar did not see the look of appraisal that Black shot him. “Do you like playing pranks? You have that look in your eyes that I remember in James,” the man said curiously before his eyes widened and he averted his gaze.

Salazar did not want to press, but it would be just as odd if he did not question Black. “Pranks?” He asked first before he followed with, “Who is James?” He kept his tone carefully controlled, though he was indeed confused about the turn the conversation had taken.

“I suppose you wouldn’t know,” Black mumbled. Salazar held back a weak smile. “James Potter. He was my best friend during and after our schooling years. Reggie mentioned him, yeah?” Salazar made a noise of agreement. The small part of him that was still Harry Potter was glad to see that his godfather had a weight that was lifted from his shoulders, that he spoke of his lost loved ones more easily. “We used to pull pranks. Especially on Slytherins,” Black explained as he avoided Salazar’s deadpan stare. “He used to get this mischievous look in his eyes when he had an idea for a new trick. Your expression reminded me of it.”

It took everything in him to not breath a heavy sigh. His circumstances had changed his face, the unmatched flow of time had aged it beyond what others would expect. Still, he would have the traits of his parents. Salazar knew that more and more people would begin to put the clues together. With Black’s comment, he wondered how long it would take the man to figure it out. Especially now that he had commented about being reminded of James Potter.

George suddenly draped his arm over Salazar’s shoulders and gave a sly grin. “Ya know, Herrick, you mentioned once that you and your friend Ric would get into all sorts of trouble together. It reminds of us stories we have heard about the Marauders!”

“Our idols!” Fred crowed as he threw his arms around Salazar as well.

“Get off me, you menaces,” Salazar groused, but froze when he heard a bark of laughter from Black. The man had curled over onto the table, his arms wrapped around his stomach. For a moment, Salazar wondered if the man had lost his mind as he continued to laugh and laugh. Even the redheaded twins watched Black owlishly.

When Black finally brought himself back under control, his pale cheeks were pink with his mirth. “Idols, huh? Never realized you idolized us. I’ll have to tell Moony. He’ll be mortified and terrified that Molly might learn of it.” He gave a crooked grin then as he seemed to forget that he was supposed to only have a tenuous truce with Salazar. His expression made his face look younger and it made Salazar’s heart squeeze in his chest. “Well, let’s hear it then,” Black said with bright eyes. “What sort of mischief did Herrick Evans get into? You don’t exactly seem the type.”

It was then that Salazar finally breathed a heavy sigh and pushed the twins off of him. “Do not think that I do not know what you intend on doing,” he hissed to the two men beside him before he frowned and leaned back some. “Ah, what would be a good story? I cannot believe how off course we have come,” he grumbled. He ignored the twins’ cackles once more.

“Ric and I had a friend named Raven,” Salazar said after another moment of thought as a bittersweet smile came to his lips. “She was a beautiful woman married to a man named Dubhghall. Though she loved her books as much as she loved her husband, Dubhghall and Raven had a strong marriage.” After all the two had met through their love of knowledge as Dubhghall had come to Hogwarts as a researcher before the school had even opened. “Yet, because of Raven’s beauty, there were some who coveted her. There was one man in particular named Máel Coluim who was a rat of a man.” Rowena had shown the man a passing piece of kindness on the streets of Hogsmeade, but he had latched onto her like a leech. “He would not leave Raven alone as he tried to convince her to leave her husband and join with him instead.”

Salazar paused as his smile turned sly. He spread his hands out with a curl of his fingers and with his palms out, a slight shrug to his shoulders. “Ric and I decided that we might have a bit of fun. Dissuade him and show him the error of his ways.”

“The best kind of prank if it’s not harmless fun,” Black said in the brief pause.

With a chuckle, Salazar relaxed his shoulders again. “Of course. It makes for a better story too rather than the time I dyed all of Ric’s clothes a vibrant shade of orange. Clashed horribly with his bright hair.”

Fred and George broke down into peals of laughter. “Oh, oh! Like thinking of little Ronnie-kins in his favoured Chudley Cannons jersey!” Even Black gave a little chuckle. The twins recovered somewhat and waved their hands. “Continue! Continue on, Herrick!”

Salazar rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth once more to continue. “Yes. Now, Máel Coluim lived in the nearby village and worked as a peddler. He hawked his wares in the streets, often just enchanted trinkets that were especially popular with the children,” he explained. “He was rather proud of his little cart. Haughty.” He gave another sly smirk as he leaned forward a bit. “In the nearby forest, there lived a great number of magical creatures. It was an ancient wood that magic had seeped into the trees long ago. Of all the creatures that thrived amongst the wood, Ric and I sought out the Sith folk. We prepared a bountiful gift of fresh milk, honey cakes, and mead. Pleased by the offering, they promised us one favour in return.”

“Faeries? No way,” Black interrupted, his eyes wide and eager. He suddenly remembered himself after a moment and cleared his throat as he looked away with an awkward frown. “It’s dangerous dealing with faeries, isn’t it?”

With a quiet laugh, Salazar gave a little shrug. “It can be, I would imagine. Faeries are neither good nor evil, though they have a different view of what is good or just. It can be tricky to deal with them, but it is not impossible. They can be appeased with gifts, after all. Ric and I had good dealings with many of the creatures of the forest, which included the fae. When they gifted us a favour, we were very clear that Máel Coluim was not to be permanently harmed. Instead, they had a bit of fun. Just little things. The fae would hide his shoes or rearrange his wares. He would be drenched by sudden downpours only centered on his location or he would trip over nothing into mud puddles even though it had not properly rained in days. We let it go on for a week before we told him how to appease them. But only in exchange for giving up on his harassment of Raven. He never approached her again.”

The twins started to cackle beside him and Fred leaned into him as he clutched at his stomach. “I’m surprised that Raven didn’t hex him herself!”

“Ah, she did,” Salazar said with a quirk of his lips. “But it was a minor hex and only put him off for a short while. He said she was just putting on airs and playing hard to get.”

George wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, what a parasite.”

“Those were the sort of pranks we wanted to play at first,” Black suddenly said quietly. “As little first years, we started with little things for just a bit of fun. The sort of things you can expect from little kids just learning how to use magic. But, as Gryffindors, we clashed with the Slytherins. Especially with the first war going on. We, admittedly, got caught up in black and white sides to the war. We wanted to use pranks to punish those who hurt others. James even wanted to make offerings to Loki, a trickster deity.”

From either side of him, Fred and George snorted loudly. Salazar flexed his fingers and summoned up a bit of magic to give the two redheads each a small shock. Black raised an eyebrow at their affronted yelps, but Salazar only gave him a bland smile. “They are thinking of a joke at my expense,” he said flatly. “Do not pay them any mind.”

“Right,” Black said with a raised eyebrow. He leaned back a bit then and crossed his arms across his chest. “You know, Evans, you have become easier to speak with over the last few weeks,” he commented then as he studied Salazar’s face. “There is something about you that I cannot quite put my finger on. It irritates me in some ways, rubs me the wrong way.”

Salazar gave Black a thin smile. The man did deserve to know what he had once been Harry Potter, but he could not seem to gather his courage to come clean. The child he had once been might have charged forward with reckless courage, but he had long ago learned to temper it. That was not to say he could not be occasionally impulsive, but he liked to think he had moved on from the worst of his childhood faults.

After a deep breath, Salazar leaned against the table then and stared at Black seriously. “I would like to duel you,” he declared. “Not to prove a point or to defend my honour, but rather to test my strength against yours. To have a bit of fun.” He paused a moment as he regarded Black. “I know we are both busy men, both with our own duties. However, why not take the chance to have a bit of harmless fun? We can use the Room here to have our duel so we will not have any unwanted spectators.”

“Only if I can bring Remus along with me,” Black replied.

Salazar nodded in acceptance. “I am open to that as long as you understand I have a few comrades that may also want to spectate.”

Black gave a nod after a long moment. “Sure, as long as you can keep them under control.”

“That is not necessary, but I can promise that they will be on their best behaviour as long as you behave on your own,” Salazar said evenly as he stood up from the table. “I believe our conversation has come to an end. If you can think of anyplace else that Bellatrix Lestrange might keep an artifact for safekeeping, please let me know. We can decide on a time for our duel at a later date.” He stopped before he gave Black a small smile. “I appreciate your help in this endeavor. With your help, we will be able to finally take down the Dark Lord once and for all.”

As he stood up as well, Black gave Salazar a small smirk. “Enemy of my enemy is my friend, huh?” He said nothing else, so Salazar gave him a nod and then left as the twins trailed behind him.

In an empty corridor, Salazar stopped and then turned so he half faced the twins. They came to an immediate halt as well. “Be mindful of your mischief,” he told them coldly. “Many things cannot be associated between me and my past by first glance, but it does not mean that the barbs of old memories will not dig into the wounded parts of me. This castle is full of memories for all that things have changed. Remember that.” With that said, he did not wait for any apologies as he turned sharply on his heel once more to continue his journey back down to his chambers. Einar waited in his office while Fred and George luckily did not follow.

“You look as if the conversation did not go well. You looked like this when you stood within the henge,” EInar’s voice greeted Salazar as he closed the door behind him.

As he turned around, Salazar breathed out a heavy sigh. “Fred and George sometimes become overzealous in their curiosity. I suppose it is why the Hat allowed them into Gryffindor while Slytherin might have suited them better.” He made his way over to the table where Einar had spread out a map across the surface. “The conversation with Black went better than expected, though it perhaps did not help much in our quest for another horcrux. He gave two potential locations that both offer up difficulties in infiltrating them.”

Einar hummed softly as he leaned against the table as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose for now, we should concentrate on our search for the Diadem and for Tyrfing,” he said as he looked over his shoulder at the map he had spread out over the table. “The Dark Lord will not be able to get his hands on the Diadem again as it is safe here in the castle even if we have not found it yet. We are left with Nagini and the Cup.”

“We can finally see the end,” Salazar said quietly as he looked over the old map curiously. “It no longer seems like an insurmountable task. But what is this?”

Einar turned around and placed his palms on the table as he gave Salazar a smile. “I discovered something rather interesting,” the elf said before he straightened again and walked around the table. He then pointed out a portion of the map. “This is a map of Scotland that I procured near Inverness from a wizard peddler. It was around the establishment of the country, so I believe it was the year 845. I had just arrived that year in the Isles along with some magical settlers from the Northern communities as I wished to travel to Midgard for a time before I returned to the North.” Einar paused then and waved a hand dismissively. “But that is not what is important. Look here.”

As he rounded the table as well, Salazar turned his attention to the area that Einar had pointed out. “This is the nearby loch,” he said in realization. “With the forest next to it.”

Einar nodded in agreement before he tapped his finger against a strange symbol in the center of the Forest. As he pulled his hand away, Salazar leaned in with a small frown. The forest had never been properly mapped or explored before. The ancient magics had made it all but impossible to explore to an extensive degree. It was guarded by centaurs and was the home of other magical creatures as well, so it had been largely left alone. This map was also from nearly one hundred and fifty years before Hogwarts’ founding when the forest was smaller and somewhat young.

“What is this?” Salazar breathed out as he studied the symbol. It was not one that he recognized and Einar shook his head. “Whether or not Tyrfing is there, it seems to be something of significance.” He brushed his own fingers over the symbol. “Hilde will be here in the new year, so I want to investigate this before then.” He looked up to Einar. “I have had Hati and Skoll join the expedition along with you. However, I now want to join the expedition myself. If so, we may not need the services of Bill or Charlie, however we can still invite them along.” A sly smile curled Salazar’s lips then. “I have noticed that you have taken to Charlie.”

A light flush painted Einar’s cheeks as he stepped away from the table and elegantly took a seat on the couch. “I know nothing of what you could mean,” he said loftily. “You promised dinner?”

Salazar snorted, but called for a house elf to request food for the two of them. Then, while they waited, Salazar took a seat across from his friend. “Today is Sunday the 24th,” he mused. “Next Monday will be the 1st of the new year. The students will return to classes the next day on the 2nd.” He paused before he looked up at Einar as he leaned back in his seat. “No, let us not wait until then. Instead, let us plan for later in the week. Perhaps on Friday or Saturday.”

“I will speak to Charlie and Bill about it,” Einar agreed. “Just let me know.”

Salazar inclined his head. “I will. However, I have made plans for tomorrow to speak with both Charlie and Bill about the expedition. I invited Hati and Skoll to join in as well, so why not just join us tomorrow so that we may all discuss our plans.”

“Then I shall do so,” Einar agreed.

When the food came, conversation turned to lighter things as Einar recollected some stories of his wandering over the years. He had made good on his promise to himself and had wandered more of Midgard once Salazar had disappeared. So, he had many stories from over the years and the chance to talk about something else than the current war put Salazar at ease.

With good food and warm drink, their conversation stretched until just before curfew. It was then that Blaise showed up at the door already dressed in silk pajamas. Salazar stood up to greet the younger man and then turned to Einar. “It has become late and I have a prior engagement that I had planned for tonight. You will have to excuse me, but I enjoyed our conversation, my friend.” He turned back to Blaise then and gave him a small smile. “Give me a moment.”

Salazar disappeared into his bedroom so that he could take a quick shower and dress into more comfortable clothes for sleep. He dressed in loose black trousers and a long tunic dyed an emerald green. He left his feet bare, though had used a temporary spell to keep them warm against the cold stones of the dungeon floors. His long hair had been brushed out and kept out of the way with a simple plait. As he left his room, he found that EInar had already gathered up his map and had disappeared. Salazar gave Blaise a slight bow. “I apologize for the wait. Shall we, Blaise?”

“After you, Herrick,” Blaise said in amusement.

When they reached the Slytherin commonroom, they found that a good number of students had gathered. The house elves had already removed all of the normal furniture in the room to be replaced by cots for the children. Some of the children now milled about curiously or had chosen the cots that they wanted for the night. Several others huddled together in groups to talk, but all of them went quiet when the door opened.

“Good evening,” Salazar greeted them all as he stepped down the staircase with Blaise behind him. He made his way over to one of the larger cots near the hearth and then took a seat. Blaise followed after him and took the other cot without a word. The atmosphere in the room was rather awkward, so Salazar leaned back on his cot and gave a soft hum. “Have you all been enjoying your break from your schooling?” He asked them curiously.

“Yes, sir,” one of the littler ones spoke up.

Salazar waved his hand a little bit. “Oh, none of that. You remember what I said this morning, do you not?” He offered a reassuring grin.

The first year blushed and hugged her pillow against her chest. “Yes, Herrick.” Her voice was soft, but Salazar heard her well enough.

“Yes, good. Did you do anything fun in particular? I heard there was a snowball fight out near the gardens a few days ago. Did you participate in it?” Salazar questioned gently before he looked out over the group as the young girl shook her head. “How about any of you?”

One of the older years held up their hand. “My favourite was Yule, ah, Herrick. It was really nice.” The teenager wrapped his hand around something which Salazar presumed was the rune pendant that he had gifted to everyone who had participated in the Yule activities.

“I am glad that you enjoyed it,” Salazar responded. He then clapped his hands once. “Now, I have something special prepared for you all.” He stood up again before he called for a house elf to bring the refreshments that he had asked to be prepared in advance. A few moments later, a long table appeared near one of the walls of the room. It was laden with mugs of either hot cocoa or non-alcoholic wassail, a drink made from spiced apple cider and orange juice. Next to the mugs were platters of muffins and other sweet breads of various flavourings. Salazar could see many of the children eye the set up in curiosity.

With a chuckle, Salazar waved them over. “Come on and grab whatever you want,” he told them. “There is plenty for everyone.” He selected a mug of wassail before he grabbed a small plate so he could collect a cinnamon roll for himself. With his prize, he went to sit on his cot as a few of the younger kids hurried over to ooh and aah over the selection of baked goods. Blaise joined him before too long and the two conversed quietly as the children picked out their treats.

Once all of the children had picked out their goodies, Salazar looked over the room. “Lights out will be in an hour,” he told them. “You are welcome to do as you wish, but I would recommend winding down and preparing for sleep. So, choose quiet activities. Blaise and I are here if there is anything you need.”

Over the course of the hour, some of the children decided to read quietly. Some just quietly gossiped in groups or played card games. There were a large handful that came to him, led by a few children that had attended the Yule festivities, to ask if he would tell them a story. “You really are the best storyteller,” a little boy piped up, his arms wrapped around his pillow.

How could he deny them? So, he recounted the story he had told Hilde, though he might have embellished it a bit more. As he told the story, more of the children migrated over to listen to him as they huddled onto beds together. Even Blaise seemed to have half an ear to listen, though a couple of the older students had gathered around the man to debate potions. Salazar might have joined in on that conversation if it was not his storytelling. Still, he did not regret his choice as he watched the eager faces of his students.

As his story finally ended, Salazar briefly checked the time. He gave a small smile before he stood up from his cot. “Alright now, it is time for bed. The time has gotten late,” he told them. “If you have not done so already, please place your empty mugs and plates beneath your cots. They will be retrieved by the house elves later.” He waited for the students to follow orders before he started to make his way around the room to help make sure the younger children had made it into bed.

Once everyone was in bed, Salazar made his way back over to his cot and then removed his wand from its holster. “Sleep well tonight, my snakelings,” he told them. “May you dream well.” With a sweep of his wand then, he snuffed out each lantern one by one so that only the warmth of the fire in the hearth remained as a gentle light. He raised his wand then and gave it a twirl so that a pale light gathered at the tip before it burst out in a shower of sparkles. The pale lights glittered like starlight and hovered near the ceiling to give the illusion of a night sky. There were gasps of delight from around the room, but the children soon quieted down.

Salazar stepped over to Blaise’s cot then and flicked his wand to erect a shield around them. They would be able to hear the students, but their conversation would be unheard. Neither one of them was about to go to sleep yet, but Salazar did not want to disturb the children. As he tucked his wand away, he leaned back against the wall that Blaise’s cot was tucked up against. “I think that went well,” he decided. “Just a simple night.”

With a hum of agreement, Blaise leaned back against the wall beside Salazar. “It didn’t have to be elaborate. I think they enjoyed just being able to have the camaraderie,” he commented as he pulled his knees up towards his chest and folded his arms across his legs. He looked over to Salazar then and raised his eyebrow. “Did you really meet a jotunn?”

Unable to stop his chuckle, Salazar drew one knee up towards his chest and rested an arm against it. “In modern times, I have often seen the word incorrectly translated to mean ‘giant’ or ‘giantess’. Frost giant is another translation I have heard. Instead, the name actually translates something akin to ‘devourer’.” He paused then and looked out over the room as he watched several students shift beneath their blankets as they tried to sleep. “I have met several jotunn, creatures said to have power on par with the gods. Jotunn can be giant, they can be the size of a human. They can be the friends of the gods or they can be in opposition. That particular story? Yes, I did meet her, though the details of the story have been embellished or exaggerated somewhat.”

“You are the craziest, most ridiculous, most interesting man I have ever known,” Blaise grumbled as he let his head fall back against the wall. Salazar only laughed as he gave a little shrug.

After a moment, Salazar looked over to Blaise. “You knew me as Harry Potter, if not very well. You know me now as Salazar Slytherin. Who else can you say you have known as two separate identities? I do not think you will ever find a stranger friend.”

“Friend.. Ha, that is something I never could have imagined even just five years ago. And I cannot wait to see the reactions of others, so I most definitely need to be the fly on that wall. Especially once Draco finds out.” Blaise snorted softly as his mind apparently drifted to thoughts on how such encounters might go. Salazar could only smile wryly before he turned the conversation to other things.

It was a couple of hours later that a couple of house elves silently appeared in the room to clean up the dirty dishes and distribute presents for each student. Salazar had made preparations to make sure that each student at least had one present, but luckily they all had at least a small pile from friends and family. Very few of his Slytherins might actually celebrate Christmas as a holiday, but it had long become a tradition in Hogwarts for presents to be distributed on this day rather than on Yule. Salazar did not want any of his students to be left out as gifts were gifts.

Once the little elves had left, Salazar quietly took down the ward around Blaise’s bed and the two quietly said their goodnights. He then slipped into his own cot and settled in for the night. He allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the crackling of the fire as the pale lights sparkled far above him. Though he would be up early the next morning to watch the students open their presents, he thought it was one of the best nights of sleep he had been able to get in a long time. The feeling lingered as he sat with Blaise and sipped at coffee while he listened to their laughter.

Once wrapping paper had been flung every which way and there were no more presents left to be opened, Salazar quietly called for a house elf to bring breakfast. Tables against the walls were suddenly laden with breakfast foods, much to the further delight of the students. Salazar smiled to himself and remained where he was seated next to Blaise. “Well? Go on then!” He told them with a little wave of his hand. He would wait until the line had thinned before he went to get his own food.

The rest of the morning was spent in the commonroom, kept warm by the fire and the enjoyment of the children. The older teenagers remained more reserved than their youngers, but it was the happiest that Salazar had seen many of them. They enjoyed breakfast and then spent time together as they compared presents. Games were opened and played, new books or trinkets were shown off. By the time that it neared midday, Salazar was nearly reluctant to leave. However, he had a prior engagement that he needed to attend. So, with Blaise beside him, Salazar said goodbye to his students with reminders that the house elves would be in to put the commonroom back into order during lunch. Once outside the commonroom doors, the two wizards parted ways.

End Chapter

Chapter Text

Last Time:

The rest of the morning was spent in the commonroom, kept warm by the fire and the enjoyment of the children. The older teenagers remained more reserved than their youngers, but it was the happiest that Salazar had seen many of them. They enjoyed breakfast and then spent time together as they compared presents. Games were opened and played, new books or trinkets were shown off. By the time that it neared midday, Salazar was nearly reluctant to leave. However, he had a prior engagement that he needed to attend. So, with Blaise beside him, Salazar said goodbye to his students with reminders that the house elves would be in to put the commonroom back into order during lunch. Once outside the commonroom doors, the two wizards parted ways.

Chapter Eighteen

Before an uneventful Christmas feast Salazar had met with the Greyback twins, Charlie, Bill, and Einar to discuss their expedition into Myrkviðr. If they wanted to enter the depths of the forest, they needed to get permission from the centaur tribe who guarded the dark trees. To do that, Salazar needed to be with them as he had dealings with the tribe before. He could only hope that it would be enough to gain their favour. Both Charlie and Bill had plenty of stories that revealed how little the centaurs thought of humans, though they would not bring harm to children. Not that this little fact would help them much in their endeavor. For that, Salazar had decided to prepare a gift for them.

On the morning that they decided to take their expedition, Salazar gathered the supplies he had prepared for the expedition. They had decided to go on the Friday before the end of the year, plenty of time before the school returned to its normal schedule. None of them truly had to worry about it as they had no classes to teach, though Salazar wanted to have time for Hermione to be able to study Tyrfing if they were truly able to find the mystical sword. Even if they did not find the sword, Salazar thought they were about to find something very interesting at the center of the forest.

The forest itself had been calculated to be something close to around four square miles, or roughly 2,560 acres. At a decent pace across normal terrain, it might have taken them maybe forty-five minutes to walk the same distance they would need to take from the edges of the forest to its center. However, it was likely to take double that time or even longer as they were unlikely to be able to take a direct path. They could have taken brooms, but the ancient magic of the forest did not mix well with the enchantments used to create said items. They were also likely to miss important clues of the forest even if they were able to fly over it. But as they would walk the distance, they had prepared for an entire day for the expedition as well as an overnight stay just to be safe.

So with everything collected, Salazar met the others down in the entrance hall. Bill was in conversation with the overeager Greyback twins. This was their first true excursion out of the castle grounds since they had first been brought to Hogwarts, visits to Hogsmeade aside. This was their first real journey out into the wilds of the world, as they had mentioned to Salazar the night before. He could practically see them vibrate with barely contained energy. It put a small smile on his lips as he strode closer to the assembled group.

Einar was with Charlie, but he looked up first as he likely heard Salazar’s steps well before anyone else as he approached them. “Good morning,” he said as he offered something wrapped in waxed paper. “Bill and Charlie brought these for breakfast. They called it a breakfast wrap.”

As he took the offered item, Salazar gave a quiet chuckle. “Ah, I know what it is. Fred and George offered one to me once. They are surprisingly delicious. Thank you, Charlie. Bill.” He nodded to them before he hoisted the bag on his shoulder higher. “Shall we head out then?” He wanted to move out before the castle inhabitants really started to wake up and wander the halls. Luckily, the others also seemed to be eager to get started as well so they followed him easily out the door.

As he made his way down the path from the entrance doors, Salazar unwrapped the food that had been given to him. Skoll and Hati quickly appeared on either side of him as well, half eaten wraps of their own clutched in their hands. Hati gave him a close mouth grin, his cheeks bulged out slightly with his bite of food. Salazar sent him an unimpressed stare and then rolled his eyes. “Good morning,” he said flatly.

Skoll snorted and gave a slight shrug. “Good morning,” he greeted back before he took another bite of his own food. Once he swallowed, he gave a little grin of his own. “We couldn’t sleep last night,” he admitted to Salazar. “We actually spent a bit of time with Hermione. She’s really disappointed that she isn’t coming on the expedition.”

“She had made sure to mention it to me as well,” Salazar said with amusement before he took  a bite of his own wrap. He needed to finish it off before they got to the forest, so he did manage to down it fairly quickly. He crumpled up the wax paper and then banished it away. As they approached the forest, Salazar spotted a couple of centaurs nearly hidden amongst the dark of the trees. He had no doubt that they were meant to see the centaurs, not surprised that the creatures were apparently there to greet them. Though greet might be too gentle of a word.

“Watch what you say,” Salazar reminded the twins on either side of them. “Let me lead the discussion. Centaurs are not fond of wizards.” Which was honestly not a surprise. While he might have used the term creature to describe both humans and non-humans, the Ministry liked to use the term in a more derogatory way. Centaurs were not human, but they were intelligent on par with humans. Sometimes more intelligent than some humans. So it was not a surprise that Centaurs hated humans as humans were creatures that often had over inflated senses of self worth.

As they approached, Salazar stopped a respectful distance from the pair of centaurs. He then gave a bow. “Saluto te,” he greeted before he straightened. “Veniam petimus obviam principi vestro.” He asked for permission to meet with their leader while he tried to remain respectful. The gaze of the two warriors were heavy upon him, their eyes both sharp and searching.

Finally, they turned. “ Sequere propinqua,” they ordered.

Salazar glanced back at the others and jerked his head. “Come on. I asked for permission to meet with their chief and they have agreed to lead us,” he informed the other wizards. He found it quite ridiculous that very few witches or wizards knew how to speak Latin as it was a basis for most of their incantations. With Latin no longer a readily spoken language, it stood to reason that it should have been one of the courses available to the children. Still, this was not the time to worry over such things. Salazar shook off the thoughts as the centaurs led them into Myrkviðr and passed the edges of the forest.

“Salve, magus,” a deep voice greeted them as they broke the line of trees into a clearing. It was the furthest Salazar had come into Myrkviðr in a very long time.

As the others filed in behind him, Salazar spotted the centaur that had spoken. He gave a deep bow in return. “Honoratus sum,” he said as he told the chief that he was honoured to be greeted by him. The centaur looked very much like the other warriors around him, though there were little things that marked him apart from the other. The largest of which was the golden torc that rested around his neck.

The chief took a few steps forward and looked down at Salazar with an almost haughty stare. “While the stars have foretold of your arrival in our forests, I find myself surprised that you would greet us with our own language, wizard.”

Salazar straightened and offered a polite smile. “I have a great respect for you and all of your people.”

“The stars tell of your presence here, but not what your intentions are. So speak, wizard, while I am still in a courteous mood,” the chief rumbled as he shifted his grip on the spear at his side.

Salazar got down onto one knee and opened up his pack as he could retrieve a box. “We are in search of an ancient artifact that may possibly be contained within the heart of Myrkviðr. To do this, we wished to approach you first for permission as you are guardians of this ancient wood. I have a gift for you, in thanks for upholding the agreement your people made with mine long ago.”

A heavy frown deepened the already dark look on the chieftain’s face. “It has been a long time since I have heard that name. Myrkviðr.”

“Yes,” Salazar said quietly, a sad smile on his lips as he straightened. “Helga named the forest.”

The chieftain eyed the box that Salazar held. “It has been a long time since any wizard has spoken of the agreement, has offered an exchange of gifts.” Centaurs had a strong oral history, carefully passed down from parent to child. It did not surprise him how well they still remembered things as a people.

“The only gift in return I would request would be that you allow us to travel to the heart of Myrkviðr,” Salazar replied. “Your people have upheld your end of the agreement, but wizards long ago forgot their own promises. The gift we must offer is far grander than anything you might have owed us.”

“You are different from most wizards,” the chieftain posed it as a question.

Salazar took a deep breath and inclined his head. “I was lucky enough to call Chieftain Chiron a friend, he who was the great warrior who struck the agreement between our peoples. I helped to reach such an agreement, so it is only right that I come to continue the agreement where my people have failed.”

“Who are you?” It was a harsh question as the centaurs around them shifted in agitation. Salazar did not dare look at the other wizards and prayed they would keep quiet.

“I am the one who gifted Chieftain Chiron the torc that would be passed down through the greatest warriors,” Salazar said first. “I, through the will of Gods and magic, have traveled through time to be able to stand here before you. My name is Salazar Slytherin.” He opened up the box he held and offered it to the chief, though he was careful not to approach. “This is my gift to you.”

When the chief gave a sharp nod, Salazar reached into the box and pulled out a Roman lance. As it was removed from the box, it enlarged back into its original size. He carefully let the butt of the lance rest against the snowy ground. “It has been enchanted to last so that it will not blunt and will pierce even stone.”

A warrior came forward when the chief nodded to him. Salazar rotated the lance so that it was held parallel to the ground and held it out so that it rested upon his upheld palms. The centaur that approached him had a quiver belted across his chest and was dark haired with a thick beard. Salazar thought he vaguely recognized from when he had been Harry Potter and thought that Bane might be the warrior’s name. Bane approached him and reached out to grasp the lance, so Salazar dropped his hands once the centaur had hold of it. Bane brought the lance over to the chieftain so that the warrior could inspect the beautifully crafted weapon. The chieftain passed off his original spear to one of the warriors next to him.

It was after several tense moments that the chieftain finally settled the lance next to him and turned his gaze back on Salazar. “I am called Magorian,” he finally introduced himself. “I will allow your invasion of our forest as long as you take one of my warriors along with you.”

“I would like to volunteer for the journey,” a centaur suddenly interrupted. Salazar turned his head to find another centaur that he thought he recognized. The warrior’s hair was blonde and watched well with the palomino colouring of his lower body. He was pale in his colouring compared to many of the others and was elegant in his litheness. There was something about him that put Salazar at ease. He thought the centaur was named Firenze, that he had met him before as Harry Potter.

With a small bow, Salazar placed his hand over his heart. “I am honoured to have such a noble warrior be our companion upon this journey.”

Firenze gave a bow as well. “The honour is mine, son of prophecy.”

Son of prophecy? Salazar tried not to grimace at the title. He never wanted to have a prophecy loom over his head. He shook off the heaviness that wanted to settle upon his shoulders and turned back to Magorian. “I thank you for the approval you have extended to us. We hope to be no more than a few hours, though it may take us into the next morn if our fortune turns against us.”

Magorian stamped one of his hooves, but gave a sharp nod of acceptance. “Go now then, Salazar Slytherin. Perhaps we might come to more agreements in the future.” His gaze turned then to the clear sky through the old canopy. There were no stars out, but it did not stop the chieftain’s gaze and the way it seemed to extend into far distant places. “Your fate is hidden to me.” With how well centaurs could read the stars and the rest of the celestial bodies of the night sky, it did not bode well that they could not read his fate. And that was by any definition of the term that was fate.

Salazar tried not to give a heavy sigh as he took a deep bow. “I am honoured and appreciate how much you have done for us, Chieftain Magorian.”

Firenze stepped closer to Salazar then and smiled down at him. “I will switch to English now for the benefit of the rest of your party. Not all seem to understand the usage of Latin,” he said gently, though his clear blue eyes sparkled with some mischief. He turned towards his leader then and gave a bow as well. Magorian stared down at him before he clicked his tongue and reared around. The rest of the warriors disappeared along with him into the depths of the dark forest.

Once they were alone again, Salazar let his shoulders slump in relief that all had gone well. Einar approached him first and clasped his hand on Salazar’s shoulder. “Well done,” he said softly. “We should get moving if we want to make good time.” He turned to Firenze then and gave a slight bow. “I wish to thank you for your cooperation and that you would volunteer to aid us.”

The golden haired centaur gave a slight bow of his own. “There is no need to thank me.” He looked up towards the sky then. “Centaurs can read many things amongst the stars and the movement of the planets. We can read the pathways and their stories, their fluctuations. All of us can read the major events. However, my eyes have always been sharper than the rest of my brethren.” Firenze gave a smile that reminded Salazar of Luna as it was directed towards him. “Centaurs have long kept out of human affairs and have instead kept their gaze on the heavens. We keep track of the movements of the celestial bodies but rarely pass on our observations. We are watchers and often nothing more, though we have the strength to defend our lands.” Firenze was quiet for a long moment as the wizards seemed to hold their breaths. Salazar certainly felt like the world around them had stilled.

“Do you remember what I told you that night I first met you, Harry Potter?” Salazar swore there was laughter in the centaur’s eyes. “In face of ridicule from my own kind, I made a promise that I will fight evil, even alongside humans if I must. At that time, it was the evil that had preyed in the borders of the forest. However, that promise still stands and there are others who would stand with me if it came down to it.”

From behind him, Salazar heard both Hati and Skoll try to muffle snorts. He tossed a sharp glare over his shoulder but they only flashed grins at him before Skoll muttered something about growing his army. Salazar rolled his eyes and turned away from them to face Firenze and his knowing smile. He could say nothing else though as Charlie made a noise from behind him. With a heavy sigh, Salazar turned away from Firenze’s gaze to meet Charlie’s eyes.

“Harry Potter. How can you be Harry Potter? Why have you not said anything?” The man croaked out, his blue eyes wide with confusion.

With yet another heavy sigh, Salazar touched the scar on his cheek. “The attack on my relatives’ house after fourth year flung me far from home and robbed me of my memories. I am still only now just recovering them. It has only been within the past few months that I have realized that I was Harry Potter.”

“You’ve changed,” Charlie murmured, though his tone was curious and not resentful in any way.

Salazar gave a small nod. “Because of the peculiarities of what has happened to me, I have gained twice as many years than everyone else. For you it has been five years since my disappearance, but for me it was ten. And with how my life has gone in those ten years, it is no surprise that I have changed from what you both have known and what you might have expected.”

There was a snort as Charlie finally grinned. “That is true. Ever since Ron befriended Harry Potter, there has never been an end to the repeating stories of reckless bravado. You, Herrick, are far from that Gryffindor hothead.”

Beside Charlie, Einar coughed to hide his laugh. Salazar tossed a glare his way as he knew exactly what was on the elf’s mind. Godric would have very much enjoyed stories of how Salazar was as Harry Potter. He would never hear the end of it, if that was the case. “We should get a move on,” he said finally in an effort to get them back on schedule. “Keep your lips sealed, Charles Weasley. I will reveal myself in my own time.” More and more had finally started to put the pieces together, but he did not need others to spread rumors before he was fully ready to face whatever backlash might come.

It only took a few more minutes for the group to reassemble themselves. Firenze volunteered to take lead, though both Charlie and Einar soon joined the centaur. Einar had out a hand drawn map that he had copied from the larger one he had shown Salazar so that he could show it to Firenze and compare it to the centaur’s knowledge. It seemed too these days that wherever Einar was, Charlie was not long to follow. Behind them followed Bill, though Skoll soon joined his side as the two struck up a conversation about the more detailed points of cursebreaking. Hati fell back to walk beside Salazar, though the two mostly walked in companionable silence until Hati asked for clarification on one of the moves that Salazar had used against him in their most recent spar.

Though it might have seemed that they could have made good time with one of the forest’s inhabitants as a guide, Salazar was right when it took them more than the projected hour to make it to their destination. The first obstacle had been a wide river that snaked through the thick trunks of the forest. It rushed with rapids and had been completely unexpected. Salazar thought it might have been one of the rivers that fed the loch, that it either emptied into one of the other rivers or it flowed down to feed the loch from an underground source. Either way, it was not a river that had appeared on any known maps of Myrkviðr. Salazar spared Firenze a curious glance.

“The story is that long ago, it was named Barghest Brook for the creatures that had a den at its source,” Firenze said as he looked over the river. “Like a ravenous beast itself, it has devoured its banks and grown wide.”

Charlie pulled out his wand, but Bill reached up a hand to stop him. “The forest magic has run wild,” he told his brother. “We won’t be able to use magic to get over the river. We’ll have to take the long way around.”

With a sigh, Salazar nodded in agreement. “He is right,” he murmured before he turned a little to look over at the rest of the group. “The magic of Myrkviðr has always been strange, but it has only grown more out of control over the long years. The further we travel to the heart of the forest, the worse it gets.”

“So that’s why spells still work near the edges of the forest,” Charlie commented as he tucked his wand away again. “It’s further from the source. Whatever is at the heart of the forest has to do with the imbalances, right?”

Firenze stamped one of his feet as he looked down the river. “The influence creeps further out every year,” he commented and then jumped down from the embankment away from the river with a click of his hooves. “If we continue to follow the path, it shall take us along the river towards the west. The pathway shall lead us to a place more easily crossed. Follow me, wizards.”

As Charlie and Bill followed after the centaur, Skoll and Hati appeared on either side of Salazar. “Now that we’ve mentioned it, the very air is making our skin itch suddenly,” Hati spoke quietly as he passed a hand along the back of his forearm. Skoll nodded in agreement.

As werewolves, it was possible that they were more sensitive to the ancient magics. Salazar hopped down off of the embankment as well before he looked over his shoulder up at the twins. “If the sensation gets worse, or changes, let me know,” he ordered them gently. “I do not want you to be too uncomfortable.” Though he did not know what he would do about it if things did change. Still, it might give them some warning to any potential dangers.

“We can handle it,” Skoll said as he jumped down off the embankment first. Hati was close behind. They both flashed Salazar quick grins before they jogged off to catch up with both Charlie and Bill.

“There are times when I can think of them as little more than children,” Einar said quietly beside him in a whisper, loud enough for Salazar to hear but too low for the twins to pick up with their sensitive hearing. “I do not think I can call them naive, but it is a near thing.”

Salazar smirked a bit as he watched after their ragtag group for a brief moment and then made to follow. “Most creatures are children in comparison to you, my friend. And that includes myself.”

There was a snort as Einar quickly caught up to him. “True enough, though I could never describe you as naive.” Salazar only smiled.

Once they reached the crossing that Firenze had spoken of, Salazar climbed up onto the embankment to find that the river had dug a small canyon so that the banks on either side could reach out towards each other. There was a natural bridge of twisted roots from the trees that lined the banks, but it was still treacherous. Salazar inspected it with a critical eye before he pulled his rucksack off of his shoulder and got down onto one knee. “Who wishes to attempt to cross first?” He asked as he grabbed out a long coil of rope.

“I’ll do it,” Charlie spoke up with a grin. “My feet might be firmly planted on the ground, but it’s not much different from some of the risks I’ve had to take because of the dragons I’ve worked with.” He took off his own bag and then held it out to Einar. “You want me to cross and then throw the rope over to me, right?”

Salazar approached Charlie and held out one end of the rope. “Close,” he answered. “Tie this about your waist.” That way, if he fell, they would be able to drag him back to safety.

As he took the rope, Charlie gave Salazar another grin. “Smart. You want me to tie it to a tree on the other side, right? To use as a guide across the river.” Once Salazar had given the man his affirmation, Charlie carefully tied the rope around his waist. Salazar checked his knots before he tossed the other end of the rope to both Hati and Skoll as they were the strongest amongst them all in case Charlie really did fall.

“Wish me luck,” Charlie said with a cocky grin before he hopped up onto the root bridge. He might have had an attitude, but his steps were cautious as he carefully placed one foot in front of the other. He kept his arms out on either side of him so that he could keep his balance better and took each step slowly. Once he finally reached the other side, he crouched down a bit and his shoulders slumped. Salazar could only imagine the relief it was to safely reach the other side. He allowed Charlie the moment before he called over to him to secure the rope to a tree trunk.

Once both sides of the rope were secure, Firenze went across next. He kept his hand on the rope, but his hooves practically danced across the uneven roots. It gave Salazar the impression that the centaur had traveled this path many times before. The bridge dipped and bounced, but held firm even under the weight of each of them. Einar went next, his steps light upon the bridge as it barely moved beneath his feet. Charlie was there to take his hand and help him jump down from the embankment once he reached the other side.

Salazar shook his head and focused on Bill as he made his way across, his freckled face creased in concentration. They went across one by one, too afraid to put too much weight upon the natural bridge for fear it might collapse. So once Bill made it safely across the other side, Skoll took the trek next. He was hesitant in his steps as the entwined roots creaked beneath the weight of his passage, his hand clenched so tightly around the rope that Salazar worried the wolf would end up with rope burn as he moved along. Even still, he made it safely across the river.

“Just the two of us left. Did you want to go next?” Hati inquired as he glanced over at Salazar. He did not appear to be as nervous as his brother, but Salazar could still see how hesitant Hati was to make the trek.

“Go on ahead of me,” Salazar said softly. “Your brother made the journey safely and now waits for you on the other side.” He held out his pack to the man so he would carry it across for him. He would need to cross the same way Charlie had with the rope, so it would be easier for him to be unburdened.

“That almost sounds like a morbid joke,” Hati muttered beneath his breath as he took the pack, but he still stepped up to take hold of the rope and make his own way across the river. Salazar smirked a little to himself even as he was left alone on that side of the river. Once Hati was safely across, Salazar untied the side of the rope that was there on that side and then proceeded to tie it securely about his waist.

On the other side of the bank, Hati and Skoll seemed to have recovered. They both cupped their hands around their mouths and yelled at him. “Come on, Herrick! You’re holding us up!” They broke down into cackles which made Salazar throw them an unimpressed stare. He nearly regretted that he had introduced the Greyback twins to the Weasley twins, which was something he seemed to do more often as of late.

With a small huff, Salazar climbed back up onto the embankment and headed over to the bridge. He took a moment to survey it before he carefully placed one foot down against the creaking wood. He carefully inched his way along the root before he took another step. As he looked down beneath him to the raging river below, Salazar took a deep breath and forced himself to focus more on the crude bridge. He did not want to lose his footing.

However, when he was nearly halfway across the bridge, Salazar heard the loud snap of a branch behind him before he heard the rustle of a large body that moved through the dry grasses near the bank. As he raised his eyes, he could see both Hati and Skoll look beyond him with drawn faces. “Keep moving, Herrick. Don’t look back,” Hati urged him stiffly. Salazar said nothing, though he could see Firenze slowly draw his bow.

Not about to look back anyways, Salazar took another step forward. He tried to hurry his steps, but he did not want to take the risk that he would fall into the river below with a hasty misstep. The crude bridge suddenly groaned threateningly as added weight put it under further stress. Salazar kept his eyes resolutely forward and took another step forward.

What happened next occurred only in moments. One moment Salazar was about to take another step forward, the next there was an ominous groan and a sharp snap. Before he even knew what had happened, Salazar found himself submerged in icy water. The biting cold stole the breath from his lungs like a punch to the gut and he took in water with an instinctive sharp gasp as the fierce currents dragged him under. When he suddenly surfaced once more, Salazar could only hear the roar of the river in his ears and could barely cough out the water from his lungs before he was dragged under once more. He barely noticed the bite of the rope into his belly as it suddenly went taut.

Buffeted against the angry river currents, Salazar could not even struggle to get above the surface for the air he so desperately needed. His vision swam worse than the swirling river and narrowed to pinpricks. He thought he could hear voices above the roar of the water, but it could have just been his imagination as the river was so loud. Time seemed to lose all meaning as he was consumed by the river, unable to fight it.

When his senses finally came back to him, it took Salazar another long moment to realize that he was laid upon his back and he could see the canopy of the forest above him. The forest below was an unnatural dark with a low fog that seemed to always swirl over what life was able to grow. Even snow had barely reached the ground below. But the trees above, through cracks in the far above canopy, Salazar could see the way that the winter sunlight danced upon the twisted branches of the trees in their winter sleep. Though the air itself seemed heavy with the ancient magics that permeated the forest, Salazar thought that air had never been sweeter.

“Herrick!” Einar’s voice was distant in a way, but it was still enough to startle Salazar. He drew in a sharp inhale of breath, but it aggravated his abused lungs. The air that had been so sweet suddenly seemed to turn foul and Salazar choked on it as he jerked to the side. His nails scraped at the frozen ground as his body shook. He was barely aware of the hand that came to rest against his back, the soothing words of his friend still distant in his ears. His coughs had barely started to ease when a cool vial was placed against his lips. “Drink,” he was ordered sternly as Einar’s firm hands guided him. He managed to choke down the bitter liquid only for another vial to replace it.

He could feel the warmth of the potions spread from his core and down to the tips of his extremities. With it, he found that his strength returned to him so he was able to sit himself up. He found Einar knelt beside him while the Weasley brothers stood anxiously behind him. Both Skoll and Hati still clutched at the rope that was knotted about his waist. “I am okay,” Salazar breathed out as he reached over to place his hand over Skoll’s as he was the closest to him. “Thank you for bringing me to safety. What creature hunted me?”

Firenze still had his bow in his hands, but slung it across his chest as Salazar’s gaze fell on him as he had caught the movement from the corner of his eye. “A cù-sìth,” the centaur said. “Though they more often make their home in the highlands, there have been known to be a few who have made the forest their home.”

“Was as large as a young bull,” Einar said as he tucked away the empty vials into his pack. “It is no surprise that the root bridge collapsed beneath your feet. The creature was swept away by the waters, but that rope about your waist saved your life.” He turned his sharp eyes back on Salazar. “Are you okay to move on? We can return to the castle instead.”

Salazar gave a shake of his head and carefully climbed to his feet as he untied the rope about his waist. “No. We will move on.” He carefully tested each of his limbs before he gave a little nod. “I was lucky that I was uninjured. Just let me change my clothes out of these wet ones so I do not catch my death in the cold.” He took his pack back from Hati, then made his way around one of the trees so he could change into dry clothes in some privacy. Once he rejoined the rest of the group, he wrung out his clothes as best as he could before he wrapped them in an oiled canvas so he could properly dry them out later.

As he placed the canvas roll back into his pack, Einar approached him with the rope coiled back up. He held it out wordlessly, so Salazar took it with a quiet word of thanks and then placed it into his pack as well. With his pack secured, Salazar straightened once more and slung the strap over his shoulder. “Let us move on,” he said firmly, though he quieted again when Einar held something out to him. After he took it, Salazar let out a soft laugh. “A flatbread, huh? Thank you, Einar.”

Hati and Skoll were suddenly on either side of him as they sniffed out the bread that he held. “What is it? I smell bacon and… onion?”

With a small smirk, Salazar took a bite. It was a bit dry and hard as it was meant to be, but he needed something in his suddenly empty stomach. The flatbread had been buttered to help soften it anyhow. “A bread made with barley flour and wheat meal that does contain smoked pork and onion. I have seen it made for long voyages, often eaten with salted fish or other smoked meats for a meal. Sometimes even with cheese, when available.” Honestly, the flatbread had likely come from whatever meal Einar had packed for himself.

As they started off down the path again, Einar stayed close by Salazar for a time until the elf was sure that the wizard was fine. He then caught up to Firenze to continue their conversation from before. Skoll and Hati trailed near Salazar, so Bill and Charlie had decided to walk together.

The passage was quiet for a time as the members of the party conversed quietly together in their small groups. The path wound far from a straight line, but Firenze seemed certain of each step he led them and it was uneventful but for the normal sounds of a forest. If one counted the distance howls of creatures best left to the imagination. Salazar hid a smirk, though he still spied the curious glances that both Hati and Skoll shot him.

Their next obstacle was the acromantula colony they came across. Even Firenze seemed somewhat surprised when there were suddenly spiders in their way. Salazar had heard their skittering in the distance for a time before the activity seemed to increase. It was not long after that they were suddenly surrounded by the large arachnids of various sizes. The smallest of which could have passed for large tarantulas, but the largest would have nearly dwarfed a horse. Their agitated clicking made Salazar rest a hand against the hidden hilt of his sword as he worried they might attack.

“Centaur,” one clicked. “Why roam so far from your herd? And with men?”

“Do you bring us food?” Another clicked, a sound that sent shivers down Salazar’s spine. He felt on edge as the spiders inched closer as they continued the clicking sounds.

Firenze stamped his hooves, a dark expression on his face. “Why have you moved from your den?” He countered. “This is the first I have seen your kind near this path.”

“We need to feed,” were the words that rippled through the assembled spiders. It made a sense of dread go through Salazar as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword. These spiders never should have been in this forest. They were an invasive species that had grown out of control. The forest was dangerous, yes, but it should have been a protected refuge for a number of magical species. How many of them had been potentially forced from the forest by the spiders? Something had to be done, but not now.

Salazar carefully fished some thin torches out of his pack. He kept a close eye on the spiders around them as they had started to become restless. Firenze too seemed to be on edge. With this in mind, Salazar carefully passed out the torches. They had been engraved with runes so would light with a bit of magic, but would not have interference from the magic of the forest. “Just pour a bit of magic into the rune,” Salazar murmured as he passed out the torches.

Once each of the other males had a torch, Salazar gathered up a bit of his magic and pushed it into the wood that rested in his hand. The runes that had been carved along the wood suddenly flared with light almost like an internal flame. The end of it sparked in the next moment before it flared into a steady flame. His companions followed his actions until they each held a lit torch that bathed the pathway with the warmth of the flickering fire. Immediately the acromantula around them scattered with angry clicks.

Firenze had refused a torch and now had his bow in hand. He adjusted his grip and loosened an arrow in the quiver tied about his waist. The path before them cleared, so the group took the chance to advance onward. However, the fire did not fully deter the spiders as a few of the younger ones skittered forward. Salazar quickly drew his sword and brought it up in a defensive position. Not a moment later, one of the reckless acromantula young jumped at him with an angry click. Salazar quickly rotated his hand and brought the sword down to slice the spider in half.

As a number of the spiders suddenly swarmed towards them, Einar was quick to join Salazar’s side to help defend their companions. As he moved to meet the hoard of arachnids, Salazar could see the others use their torches to defend themselves as they kept close together to help guard each others’ back. Firenze’s hooves flashed as he used them as an effective weapon, his arrows saved for the larger of the acromantula.

The number of spiders could have overwhelmed them, yet they managed to fight off the creatures long enough for them to finally retreat. Unable to get what they wanted, the acromantula finally decided to pull back. As they finally escaped from the spiders, Salazar gave an angry huff. “Something needs to be done to cull those spiders,” he said with a soft growl to his tone. When he lifted his eyes to meet Firenze’s gaze, he was met with the same grim look in the centaur’s eyes that Salazar felt himself. “Once this is all over, I would like to request that I may speak with your herd so that we might come up with a solution to this problem.”

Firenze inclined his head. “It is time that something must be done. I will aid you.”

“I appreciate it,” Salazar said before he sighed and put out the fire of his torch. The others were quick to follow, so Salazar retrieved them and put them away. He was eager to continue on their journey as they still had aways to go with the winding path they needed to take to get to the heart of the forest.

As they continued once more along the path, it was a cliff that next stopped them in their tracks. Firenze had held his hand out to stop them from any more steps, though Salazar edged forward to look over the edge. It was a sheer drop that opened up suddenly to a craggy bottom. “It is a long way down,” Salazar observed as he carefully backed up again. “I assume you know a way around?” It was regretful that they could not use magic to get them safely down, but that was why they had Firenze for a guide through the obstacles of the forest.

The trail took them out of the way of their destination, but it was the safest path. Even so, it took them a good half hour to pick their way down along the edge of the cliff and around the rocky uneven ground to get back to their path through the forest. As they stepped around the base of an old tree, Firenze came to a stop. “We should rest here,” he informed them. “The next stretch of the way is up a cliff.”

At the thought of a climb up a cliff there were a few groans that echoed throughout their group, though Salazar would deny that he was one of them. Instead, he took a seat down on a thick root and pulled out a waterskin to take a drink. He also dug around his pack for his small pouch of potions to ease the ache in his bones from his unfortunate swim in the river. As he knocked back the bitter liquid, he could hear as the twins grumbled. “We just came down a cliff. How can we be going up a cliff now?”

Firenze settled himself down as he folded his legs beneath him. “We are in an old dried up ravine,” the centaur said. “We could have made our way around, but it would have taken us well out of our way and through the territory of some of the more dangerous of the forest’s inhabitants.”

“I do not look forward to the trip back,” Hati grumbled as he made his way over to Salazar and then dropped down next to him to dig through his own pack. Skoll thanked Firenze quietly, but quickly joined his brother.

“You smell like an apothecary,” Skoll said suddenly as he glanced over to Salazar. “Are you well?”

As he avoided the gazes of the two wolves, Salazar pulled out a bundle of waxed paper. He opened it to reveal smoked meat and flatbread. “How do you even know what an apothecary smells like?” He said evenly as he laid some strips of meat on the bread and then took a bite out of it.

Hati snorted softly and uncapped his waterskin. “There is one in Hogsmeade that we visited when the Headmaster let us explore the village. But that doesn’t answer the question, Herrick.”

With a small smile, Salazar swallowed the bite of his food. The small meal helped to fill his belly and to chase away the bitterness of the potion that lingered on his tongue. “I will sleep well once we have returned to the castle, but I truly am fine. Just an ache that the potion took care of easily. I would not endanger myself with a lie so do not worry.” He offered a strip of meat to Hati and then Skoll. “Trust me.”

“With our lives,” Skoll replied as he took the meat from Salazar. Hati nodded his agreement as he took the other strip of meat as well.

Salazar gave them both a smile, but said nothing more as he finished off his food. His stomach felt more settled now finally as the food had definitely helped. He spent the rest of their little rest with the twins until Einar called that they should continue on their journey. There were more than a few grumbles from most of them, but they quickly packed up what little they had brought out before they were on their way again.

The path took them through the winding ravine for a time, but eventually they needed to scale the cliff face. If Salazar had thought it was difficult to pick their way down the steep slope of the opposite ravine, the trek upwards was more tedious. The terrain was somehow more difficult and they often ran the risk that they might slide back down the slope. Still, they made it finally to the top in relatively one piece.

As they stopped to catch their breath, Salazar also took the time to apply salve to any scraped palms or other open cuts. The rocks of the cliff face had provided handholds, but were unyielding and poor buffers against falls. He had managed to come out relatively unscathed himself, the scrapes on his own palms already taken care of. Charlie looked to have suffered the worst of them all, though still only minor injuries that were quickly taken care of under Einar’s hand as Salazar tended to the others who needed it.

After Salazar had finished with the scrapes on Bill’s hands, he put away his supplies and retrieved the supplies from Einar that the elf had borrowed to treat Charlie. He gave his friend a small knowing smirk, but Einar resolutely ignored him and quickly turned away once he had returned the supplies. Salazar could not hold back a small chuckle as he shouldered his bag. They were soon on their way again.

The last of their journey to the heart of Myrkviðr was an easy one. It winded just as much as it had been, but the land was flat now and they did not encounter anymore obstacles. The sun was past its highest point in the sky now when they came to a clearing.

As it was the middle of winter still, the forest was barren of leaves. The ancient wood was tall and the trunks were wide. The gnarled branches twisted around each other high into the sky to create a screen that blocked out most of the light even without their leaves. However, the clearing they came to was awash with sunlight. The sleeping trees did not reach out their branches to create a roof like they had with every other clearing they had passed.

The golden sunlight was nearly blinding after how long they had traveled in the dim light of Myrkviðr. It made the single tree that stood in the center of the clearing even more spectacular. While winter had sent the forest to sleep, the single oak was dressed in vibrant green leaves that crowned its ethereal dark branches. It nearly stole Salazar’s breath away as a light breeze made the leaves dance. “‘And among the trees was a large oak, as broad as three men and as tall as a giant. Beneath its roots I placed the stone coffer with the sword inside,’” Salazar quoted softly as he recalled Angantyr’s words.

Einar glanced over at him before his gaze returned to the tree as well. None of the others spoke a single word as they remained frozen in awe at the vision that stood before them. It truly matched the description that had been given to Salazar in Helheim. More than that as well, the tree was surrounded by standing stones that looked like they might have engravings in them. It was hard to tell from a distance though with how heavily eroded they had become. The clearing nearest the treeline also contained winter dead grass, though a gradient of green appeared the closer one traveled towards the oak. Around the standing stones was a raised bank that dipped down into a ditch before it rose once more to the flat diameter surface of which contained the stones and the oak. There was a singular break in the bank that created an entrance that was perhaps two meters wide.

After many long moments that seemed removed from the flow of time, Salazar finally moved. He found a suitable area near the treeline and removed his pack. Bill joined him soon after, though Skoll was quick to follow. Charlie got Einar and Hati to help him set up a pavilion tent. It was not the usual wizarding space like normal wizarding tents, but instead had no magic upon it. There were a few magical objects that worked within Myrkviðr because of their internal magic, but Salazar had wanted to limit the number of magical items that they brought with them. Especially the magic of a wizarding space.

As the three worked on the construction of the tent, Salazar turned to Bill. Skoll was intrigued by cursebreaking and had gathered a lot of theoretical knowledge, so he was eager to get some first hand knowledge. “If Einar’s map is to believed, this spot has been here since at least the year 845,” Salazar mentioned. “Whatever magic is at work here, it has had over one thousand some years to permeate into the earth.”

“And without proper containment spells,” Bill added as he set his own pack down and then crossed his arms over his chest, his ponytail pulled over his shoulder. He had a deep frown on his lips as he regarded the tree. “Based on Angantyr’s description, I think it’s highly probable that we have just found Tyrfing. If we could find it, then Riddle could be not far behind.” He would have a harder time to retrieve the sword, but not entirely impossible.

“We cannot leave it here if it is truly Tyrfing,” Salazar said with a sigh. “However, the sword has had over one thousand years to influence the ancient magics of the forest. It will not be an easy feat to untangle it.” They could not just remove the sword as it would not be unlike the removal of a blade from a wound. The magic that ran through the veins of the forest would suddenly pour out of the puncture and it would bleed out. A great number of magical creatures relied on Myrkviðr that would be put in jeopardy if the forest suddenly became barren.

Skoll frowned as well as he rubbed at his chin absently. “We need a replacement for the sword,” he said suddenly. “We can’t just leave the sword here for the dark lord, but we can’t just rip it from the forest either.”

Bill nodded his agreement. “Once the war is over, we can return the sword to its resting place and I can add in some proper containment wards so that its influence on the forest will stabilize. Until then, we can leave a temporary replacement that will keep the forest in a sort of limbo for at least a year or two.”

“But first we need to ascertain if the sword truly is here,” Salazar said softly. “The curses of Tyrfing have been satisfied so there should be no immediate danger, but we still must be careful.”

With a pulled face, Skoll gave a sharp nod. “My skin itches and I feel restless,” he agreed with a mutter.

Bill held out an amulet to Skoll with a small smile. “Here. This should help. Want to go pass out the other ones to the crew over at the tent? Everyone here but Firenze has one of Herrick’s amulets which has actually helped with many of the effects. Now that we are so close now though, these amulets will add another layer of protection. You can see if Firenze wants one too, actually.” The centaur lived in the forest, but it would not hurt to offer the protection if he wanted it.

After he had looped one of the leather cords over his head and around his neck, Skoll grabbed the other offered amulets and then made his way over to the group that still worked to set up the tent. Firenze had settled on the ground near the treeline and just watched as the party worked. Salazar glanced at him, but quickly turned his attention back to Bill as the cursebreaker offered him an amulet. Salazar quickly settled it over his head and immediately it became a little easier to breathe. The sensation had creeped up so slowly that only now that it was gone had Salazar noticed that it had felt like a weight on his chest.

Once Skoll had returned to them, Bill removed something from his pack and offered it to the wolf with a grin. “Remember when I said that the magic of the forest had run wild? As a cursebreaker, we sometimes run into tombs or temples where the magic has run wild so to speak. Nothing quite on this level, but it is the same basic concept. There are various factors or scenarios where magic might become corrupted or deviate from its original purpose. But whatever the reason, or however the magic might have changed, the end result is still that wand magic does not always react the way it is intended.”

The object in Skoll’s hand was a large crystal. As he listened to Bill’s explanation, he turned the crystal over in his hand. “A deviation of the wild magic in the earth is not necessarily a bad thing,” he said as he glanced up briefly.

“No, not necessarily,” Bill agreed as he made a vague motion towards the oak in the heart of the clearing. “A deviation just means that the wild magic has changed its natural flow. On its own, magic will not prolong the life of a tree and remove it from the touch of the seasons like it has to the oak here. However, we need to be able to see the wild magic and where it has been corrupted from its natural state. Yet, we do not have the reliable use of wand magic. So, to compensate, cursebreakers have come up with a solution. Magic can be stored in crystals, right?”

Skoll glanced up but then quickly looked back down at the crystal with new appreciation. “It has spells stored in it,” he breathed out.

“Correct,” Bill said with a grin. “Because the magic has been stored in the crystal itself, we can activate it just fine without the wild magic here interfering. Because of the nature of the magic itself, it should work as intended. Just like Herrick’s torches from earlier worked, but why they’re setting up a regular tent over there and not a wizarding tent.” He paused then as Skoll nodded his understanding, but continued to examine the faint glow of the crystal in his hand. Bill gave a soft hum before asked, “Want to give it a try?”

At Skoll’s lack of hesitation, Bill gave a wide grin before he stepped in closer to show the wolf how to operate the crystal. He then stood back so Skoll could activate it. The wolf wasted no time as he spoke aloud the activation phrase, careful to enunciate it correctly. As the glow of the crystal became brighter, Skoll settled it down on the ground and took a step back. There was a flash that seemed to ripple out of the crystal. As the shockwave moved through the clearing, it revealed a multitude of magical strands that ran through the earth like shimmering veins. There was an entire kaleidoscope of colour that entwined amongst each other.

As they watched, the oak seemed to pulse with a light that fed down into the veins of wild magic that branched from the tree. That pulse traveled through the multitude of branches and disappeared off into the forest. “Incredible,” Salazar breathed out softly as he adjusted the cloak around his shoulders. The oak might appear like it was the height of summer, but the chill of the long winter still hung in the air. Even with good warming charms, the wind could cut through like icy knives.

Bill made an absent sound from next to Salazar and covered the lower half of his face with his hand. He made another sound then before he removed his hand and turned his attention towards the tree. When he took steps towards it, Salazar was quick to follow him. “The disturbance in the natural magic definitely comes from the tree,” he said then as he finally glanced over to Salazar. “I have seen magical tombs in Egypt that have eroded over the thousands of years since they were first constructed, but nothing on this level.”

Though he was not as quick of a reader for what the magical veins of magic represented, Salazar thought he understood what Bill meant. He approached one of the standing stones to investigate the carvings on the weathered surface. He could just barely make out a flickering glow along the curved lines, though some stood out more than others. “This might be originally an old Druid site,” Salazar said finally as he turned away from the stones. Bill was at another stone to examine it.

“Might even be older than that,” the redhead said. “I don’t know the ancient history in the Isles as well as I do Egyptian history, but I would wager that the stones could be late neolithic or not long after. If that’s true, then this is a remarkable archeological find from a wizarding standpoint.” Skoll seemed incredibly invested as he listened intently to the deliberation between the two wizards.

Salazar turned to face the oak then. “That would make this one of the earliest known magical sites in the Isles.”

The redhead gave a nod as he turned away from the stone to face the oak as well. “Yeah, definitely. It’s from a time before the world saw organized magic practitioners. At least in this part of the world at any rate. Magic was there and could be tapped into, but there was no true organization yet like in the way that we view magic nowadays.” He paused then before he looked over his shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest again. “The placement of the stones taps into the natural veins of wild magic, though whether it was intentional or accidental could be put up to debate. Regardless, they have lost most of whatever power they had.”

“They are not the reason for why Myrkviðr or the oak tree are the way they are,” Skoll interjected as he crouched down to look at the colourful trails that glowed beneath his feet.

“No,” Bill agreed. “I would reckon it has to do with whatever is buried beneath the roots there.” He nodded towards the tree. Skoll’s head snapped up and even Salazar found that he himself suddenly held his breath as his eyes caught on what Bill had pointed out.

Careful not to disturb anything, Salazar picked his way through the grass to approach the tree more closely. Bill was not far behind him. “It is a stone coffer,” Salazar said softly, nearly in awe. “The lid is cracked, but I can make out some runes carved upon the surface.”

“Bloody hell,” Bill breathed out as he examined it closely. The two then carefully moved away before Bill gave a loud laugh. “Bloody hell,” he repeated. “I think we found it. I think we actually found it.”

Salazar shook his head and ran his fingers through his loose hair before he huffed out a laugh of his own. “Let us tell the others then,” he suggested. “We can then figure out how we will retrieve the sword.” With Bill and Skoll’s agreement, he led the way over to where the tent had been set up. A fire had been built up in front of the tent and a few logs had been put around it for seating.

Charlie and Einar were inside the tent and stood around a table that was nestled up against the center pole. The table had been installed with an expansion charm to change the dimensions of the piece of furniture as needed. The table, along with the tent and a few other items, had the same charms cast over them so they could be transported and then returned to their original sizes. It was the only way to bring such things into the forest, but now operated as their base of operations until they could figure out how to retrieve the sword.

As they approached the tent, Hati hopped up from where he had been crouched in front of a fire. There was a tripod over the fire and a cauldron that hung suspended over it. It looked like there was only water in it so far and probably had not been set up for long. “All done already?” The man asked as he set up a small table near the firepit. He had enlarged it from its tiny size and grabbed out other wrapped items from his pack. Both he and Skoll had been elected to carry most of their food with them in their packs while Charlie had carried shrunk items for their camp.

As Skoll joined his brother, the two started to unwrap the paper wrapped items to reveal things like carrots, potatoes, onions, and a thick chunk of beef. Bill and Salazar left the two of them to the food preparation as they entered the tent. Charlie stopped whatever he had been saying and looked up from the table. “Oh, hey. Welcome back. We were just discussing the path here and updating Einar’s map,” he said with a motion towards the map that was stretched out on the table.

Einar handed over a mug of what smelled like tea to both Bill and Salazar. “What is the verdict?” He asked curiously as he glanced out the door of the pavilion to the oak. He grabbed his own mug of tea and leaned against the table.

“Thank you,” Salazar said as he took the warm mug. Before he answered the question, he took a sip of the herbal tea to warm himself. He let out a soft sigh before he made a small motion with his head. “Let us all gather about the fire so we can include Skoll and Hati in on the conversation,” he offered. With agreement from the others, he led the way out to the fire and then took a seat on one of the logs. The lingering chill in his bones from his unfortunate dip in the river was finally chased away in front of the flames and a hot mug in his hands.

Once Bill, Charlie, and Einar were all seated, Salazar took a drink of his tea and then settled the mug against his knee. “Based on the veins of magic that are coming off the tree, there is an ancient magical object that is beneath the roots of the oak tree. We have seen the coffer that the magic originates from, the runes that are etched on the broken lid. We believe that we have finally found Tyrfing.”

Charlie shook his head in disbelief, though a wide grin had spread across his lips. Relief was echoed on each of their faces, that they had discovered the mythical sword before the Dark Lord could get his hands on it. “That’s great. But how? We all just assumed there would be a slim chance that the sword would actually be here, that we were just eliminating the location just to be safe.”

At the question, Bill and Salazar exchanged a look before Salazar faced Charlie again. “The site appears to be a very old magical site. The original site is from what Bill estimates to be near the end of the late neolithic era, but my guess is that it was also used by the druids. The druid built Nexus is nearby, so it makes sense to have a sacred site nearby.” He turned his head to absently examine the old standing stones. A large handful of them had fallen even. “It is my guess that Angantyr had wizards amongst his men and they had known some druids. What better place to hide Tyrfing than in a land that was only known by a few? And in a place that was ancient by even their standards so that it would offer the ultimate protection?”

“That is true,” Charlie mused as he looked over to the stones as well. “It is pretty clever. He would have wanted the sword safe and far away from him. Even with the curse finally lifted, Tyrfing only brought Angantyr despair.” Salazar hummed his agreement as his eyes slid over to the oak. “But how do we retrieve the sword? I don’t suppose that we can just remove it from the coffer it's been laid in for so long.”

Bill frowned as he swirled his tea around in its mug. “No. We would create a vacuum in a magical field and it will collapse. Pretty quickly too, would be my guess. All magic would completely drain out of the area and it’ll become a dead zone for magic. With how many magical creatures rely on the forest…” He shook his head before he breathed a heavy sigh. “However, if we leave the sword, it will happen anyways after Riddle retrieves it because he won’t care at all. He just wants the sword.”

There was silence through the group for a long few moments before Bill cleared his throat and spoke again. “I think we should repair the henge,” he suggested. “In the long run, it will help tame the out of control wild magic so it will stop messing with the magic of the forest. It will also help us untangle the magic of the sword from the rest of the magic without there being backlash on us. However, we will need a temporary replacement for the sword until we can return it to its resting place after the war.”

Skoll dumped rough chunks of meat into their boiling water over the fire before he made his way back over to the table to clean off the knife he had used. “What if we use a crystal with magic stored?” He made the suggestion as he wiped off the knife and then grabbed a carrot to chop into chunks.

At the suggestion, Salazar shook his head. “No, the crystal would not be a powerful enough substitution. We would need something to almost trick the magic into believing that the sword is still there.”

Bill straightened quickly then and turned more towards Salazar. “That’s it, though. We could create something akin to a votive offering. With the right runes, it will be enough to trick the magic into believing that the votive is the real sword. Especially if we pair it with the stabilization of the henge stones.”

Before Salazar had a chance to reply, Charlie leaned forward. “You both are incredible, you know that? But how are we supposed to restore a henge that is thousands of years old? I have no doubt Herrick has the skills to create a votive, but what are the rest of us supposed to do about the stones?”

Before he answered, Salazar looked over to the stones as he thought about his answer. There were a total of eighteen stones that had been placed upright around the oak. Of those eighteen stones, ten of them had fallen sometime over the centuries. “If we raise the stones back up, it might be enough.” It would be a good place to start at any rate.

Bill gave a nod before he took a sip of his tea. Once he lowered his mug again, he leaned his arms against his knees from where he was seated. “We have had to raise obelisks and other heavy stones while on digs in Egypt, so I have some experience in manually raising stones like those in the henge. I can head that if you want to create the votive for our sword substitution.”

“Well, food isn’t ready yet, so we could get started on raising one of the stones at least,” Skoll said as he wiped off his hands. “I’ll help with that, cuz Hati’s got the stew under control. He’ll let us know when food is done.” Hati nodded his agreement.

“Well, that’s a good plan as long as everyone else agrees,” Bill responded as he looked at the others. Salazar gave a little shrug. His task was easier in some regards as it was not as labour intensive as what the others were about to begin. Charlie and Einar exchanged looks, but then quickly agreed that they could get started. There were a lot of stones to raise so it was going to take quite a bit of time.

With plans in place, Salazar finished off the last of tea before he stood up and went to retrieve his pack. He then ventured into the edge of the treeline to select an appropriate branch that he could whittle down into the needed shape. If he had more time, he might have found a metal substitute. However, he was confident that he could use a wooden votive as an adequate replacement. As he searched, the others had also gone into the woods under Firenze’s watchful eye. Even with his distance, Salazar could hear Bill instruct others to find already fallen trees as they did not want to cut down any living ones.

After some search, Salazar found an oak that had recently fallen. It was sometimes known as the king of trees as it was known for its strength. It would make a good medium for the votive. Especially as the tree in the clearing was also an oak, so Salazar hoped that it would help create a resonance to make the substitute more powerful. So, he removed a knife from his pack and used it to remove a good sized branch.

As he made his way back to the camp, he noticed that the others had also found some fallen birch trees that made perfect poles for a pulley system that Bill had started to construct. He looked like he had begun to use some length of rope to lash together the birch poles. While he did this, Charlie and Skoll had shovels and had started to carefully dig around one of the fallen stones to free it from the earth it had fallen into. Once they were done, they would likely move on to dig behind the stone so it would have a hole to slide into once raised. Salazar left them so it and instead went to sit at the fire to keep Hati company as he carved the votive.

“Food is ready,” Hati’s voice suddenly rang out and drew Salazar’s attention. He blinked and looked up before he turned his gaze back on the crude object in his hands. He had managed to whittle it down into a rough sword shape, though he wanted to refine it a bit more before he finally carved in the necessary runes for it. The votive did not have to be perfect, but he did want it to be less clunky and rough than it was currently. But that was work for after they had eaten.

So, as Hati went to collect the others, Salazar stood and took his work into the tent. He set it down onto the table along with his pack before he made his way back out to the fire. The rest of the group had begun to wash up in a bowl of water that had been provided by Hati. Once they were washed up, they each went to retrieve a bowl of stew from Hati and then find a seat by the fire. Firenze had turned down a bowl, but joined them in their meal. Once he had washed up as well, Salazar joined the others at the fire with a warm bowl of stew.

“How goes your crafting?” Bill asked as he stood up and then dropped down next to Salazar instead. He scooped up a bit of his stew and then stuffed it into his mouth. The meal could not be considered overly flavourful because the ingredients were somewhat limited, but it was still hearty and filling. Not to mention that it was also warm. So, even though it could not be described as the finest meal in the world, they all would be able to agree that nothing else would taste better right that moment.

Salazar savoured his own bite before he finally responded to the question. “I managed to find a suitable piece of wood and have cut it down to the dimensions that I was aiming for,” he said first as he scooped up a chunk of potato. “It is still very crude in design, but it has started to really take shape in what I planned for it.” He ate the bite of his meal before he looked over his shoulder at the henge. “How are things over there?”

The man beside him hummed as he stirred his stew. “We have one stone up,” he told Salazar as he glanced over his shoulder as well. “We had to leverage the stone up so that we could get the rope wrapped around it, but then it slid easily into the hole we prepared for it. We had just finished with packing in the earth around it when Hati called us for lunch. So that’s one down and nine more to go.”

“Once I finish with the votive figure, I can help with the stones,” Salazar promised. “It will still take a few hours at least, however.” He wanted to take his time to make sure that he did it right the first time.

“No rush, of course. We’ll have Hati’s help too once the clean up is done from lunch,” Bill said with a little shrug before he shoveled another bite of stew into his mouth.

After he agreed, Salazar turned back to his own food and finished off his stew. He then joined Hati in the cleanup from their meal before they parted ways. Hati joined the rest of the group to help them raise the stones while Salazar entered the tent so he could fetch his materials and the unfinished proxy sword.

By the time that he finally finished, it was late into the afternoon. Salazar packed his supplies back up and then went to see how the others were getting on with the stones. He left his pack and the proxy sword inside of the tent to be retrieved later. As he approached, he counted the standing stones once more. In the time that it had taken him to finish his carving, they had managed to raise three more stones. That left six more, though it looked like they were about to raise the fourth one. Salazar made his way over then and grabbed hold of the rope alongside Charlie and Einar.

Bill looked up then and gave him a quick grin. “Oh, good! Just in time then.” He leaned down and grabbed a pair of thick leather gloves before he tossed them at Salazar. “These will protect your hands from the rope,” he explained as he waited for Salazar to pull them on. “All ready? On the count of three!”

As Bill counted down, Salazar braced himself and planted his feet. “Pull!” Charlie called out once Bill had counted down. Salazar immediately dragged on the rope and watched as the stone top rose a bare few centimeters into the air. “Pull!” Charlie called again.

Under Bill’s direction the group had built what amounted to a large sawhorse that stood taller than the roughly two meter tall standing stones. The rope had been thrown over the top of the structure with one end attached to the standing stone and the other in the hands of Salazar, Charlie, and Einar. Hati and Skoll remained on the side of the stone to ensure that it was guided into the hole that had been prepared for it. Once the stone started to rise, Bill grabbed the end of the rope to help them pull.

Slowly but surely the stone rose from its long rest on the earth until it slid into place in the hole that had been dug to hold it. As it stood proudly, Hati and Skoll darted in to fill in the space around the stone to keep it upright. Only then did they slacken the rope around the stone and then release it. With yet another stone finally upright, they moved on to the next. The twins immediately moved to dig around the slab so they could help Bill leverage it up and wrap the rope securely around it. While they worked on this, the others moved the scaffolding over and tossed the rope over top.

Their work continued in this fashion for several long hours. They rested occasionally to give their tired muscles a break, but otherwise worked diligently to raise the slabs of stone back into place. It was nearing sundown when the end was finally in sight as they worked to raise the last fallen stone.

With one last great heave, the final stone slid into place. Immediately, both Skoll and Hati rushed in to fill the hole with dirt and pack it in tightly. Once it was stable, the rest of the group was able to release the rope and relax. As Skoll climbed back to his feet, he brushed off his hands and then reached up to loosen the knots of the rope around the stone. He paused as the rope fell away and frowned as he took a step back. “I think that stone is vibrating,” he remarked slowly, somewhat unsure. “The marks in the stone. They were glowing before, right? I think they’re getting brighter.”

Salazar looked up from where he had started to remove his gloves. “Everyone on the outside of the henge!” He ordered sharply. Bill immediately stopped in his tracks and the twins moved without question as they scrambled to exit the henge. They had barely cleared the circle when there was a snap like a crack of thunder that reverberated throughout the clearing. The largest of the stones suddenly sparked with a blue shade of energy before the sparks lept from stone to stone around the henge. As it reached the original stone once more, the ground around them started to shake. It was not a large tremor, but enough that several of them exchanged looks of concern.

As the tremors ended, the eighteen stones of the henge started to rise in the air. Salazar knew he was not the only one to watch the heavy stones rise into the air with a measure of awe, however he was distantly aware of both Skoll and Hati complaining that their digging had been pointless. Salazar tried not to smile, but he was more focused as the clearing finally became still as the magic settled. As things calmed, Salazar became aware of a low hum that seemed to be just out of the realm of awareness. It was a vague sort of feeling, though he could not physically hear anything.

Bill stepped over to Salazar’s side then and looked up at the stones. “This is incredible,” he said softly, as if afraid to break the silence if he spoke too loudly. “I have never seen anything like it.”

“I have,” Salazar responded just as quietly. “It was in a forest hidden away from mundane view near the eastern coast of Scotland. There was an old wizarding family that still tended to the henge as they had ancestors that had been druids. The rituals had been passed down through the father’s line.” He gave a small smile. “I have seen many henges over the years, some of which were active ritual sites away from mundane eyes. However, a henge like this one is rare as most have already fallen as well.”

“Then how did this one fall to begin with if we were able to fix it just by setting the stones back up again? And how do we prevent it from falling again?” Charlie was the one to ask this as he stepped closer to one of the stones. They hovered a good couple of meters from the ground and bobbed a little to a rhythm that was not audible.

In response to the questions, Salazar breathed out a sigh. “There are a number of reasons why the stones could have fallen,” he said. “The henge was built upon magical veins, so it is possible that there was a disruption in the natural flow of the magic. If I had to guess, I believe it could have been when the lid of the coffer beneath the oak roots cracked. The coffer had been designed to contain the power of Tyrfing, however the work was flawed. At some point over the years, the stone cracked and it was unable to stop the power from leaking out. With how powerful the magic of the sword is, it would not surprise me that it created a disruption through the power flow. After all, it changed the magic of the forest.”

The answer seemed logical enough, though they might never know for certain. “Sure, but how do we prevent it from happening again? Especially once we replace Tyrfing with our proxy,” Charlie pressed.

“We keep the magic steady,” Salazar replied simply before he gave a little smile. “The simplest way would be to create a spellsong.”

From beside him, Bill choked a little. “Simple, he says,” the redhead muttered as he rubbed a hand over his face. “A bloody spellsong. How is that in any way simple?”

Salazar blinked a bit in surprise at the reaction before he breathed a heavy sigh. “It has become somewhat of a lost art, I take it?” He spoke the words blandly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s very easy to blend magic with the voice and keep it regulated for the entirety of a spellsong,” Bill shot back just as blandly. “But if you can do it, then by all means.”

It begged the question if whether spellsingers still existed or not, Salazar had to muse as he cleared his throat. Words and names had power. With magic that was focused through a wand, one had to say the correct words of the spell and use the correct wand movements to create stable spells. Simple spells could reduce the use of verbal commands through repetition and practice, though more powerful spells required the continued use of a verbal incantation. But spellsongs were different. Rather than a forced manipulation of magic, spellsongs were more subtle and wove together more complex magics. Spellsingers often sung verses to create their spells, as the name suggested. However, it was not entirely necessary. Which was a good thing as Salazar was not entirely sold on his singing voice.

Quick to shake off the thoughts, Salazar took a few measured breaths and then closed his eyes. He had to do this part carefully, but he reached down with his awareness and sought out the flow of magic within the earth beneath them. He used his body as a conduit then and gathered the feeling of the magic in his throat. As he did this, he could feel the way that the banded runes on his limbs started to burn. He had to be careful not to overload them.

“Listen,” he breathed out in a coaxing tone as he reached out to the stones that floated just above their heads. He could feel the magic vibrate almost in anticipation. “From earthen stone to time worn stone, I weave my will in endless verse. I speak my will to strengthen and bind, the steadfast circle and unbroken bastion.” As he steadily spoke, Salazar could almost hear the rhythmic beat of tools against stone as if he had been offered a glimpse into the henge’s long ago past. “Unbroken you are the fortitude of aeon, you who have stood sentry through countless day and night. Through each storm and bright sun, through both the winter freeze and spring’s thaw, I weave you this verse to stand in united harmony for you are one. Listen, for you are one.”

Salazar breathed out slowly and let the magic settle back down. His throat felt raw and the bands around his forearms still burned. Delicately, Salazar rolled up his sleeves and hissed softly at the raw edges of the inked symbols. Einar was suddenly at his side as he took Salazar’s arm carefully in his hand. The elf made a tsking sound and pulled a salve out of a pouch at his waist. He popped out the cork cap and then dipped in two fingers. Quietly, he spread the cooling salve over the inflamed tattoos. Though he said nothing, Salazar could sense that Einar was not exactly pleased with him. However, the elf could not disprove the necessity so he said nothing.

Once he rolled his sleeves back down, Salazar was practically cornered by both Hati and Skoll. “We have never heard something like that before! What did you do?” They asked curiously, eyes opened wide with wonder.

With a small huff of a laugh, Salazar looked up at the stones. “Like I said, it is called a spellsong. I do not know if there are any who still exist, but there used to be spellsingers. Rather than use a wand, they entwine magic with their voices by using their bodies as a conduit. It is not a quick way to cast magic and not everyone is suited towards it.” His body was certainly not suited towards it. He was a dark wizard even if his nature hovered somewhat close to neutral. It meant that he did not have all of the natural conduits to use his body to channel the wild magic beneath his feet. The rune bands helped to negate some of his disadvantages, but they had their limits.

“Spellsingers weave magic that is more abstract than a spell with a finite incantation,” Salazar continued. “It is a more subtle magic overall. As for what I did just now, I stabilized the magic in the floating henge. Even if there are disruptions in the magic veins in the earth, the magic already contained in the stones will compensate for the discrepancies long enough for the natural magic to stabilize.”

Hati had his head cocked to the side. “I can hear the rhythm you used,” he said. “The stones right before were emitting a really low hum, but now it has the same rhythm as your spellsong. Will it last forever?”

Salazar hesitated before he shook his head. “The song will last for a long while, but it needs to be renewed periodically.”

“If you teach me the words, then I and my herd can take on such a burden,” Firenze suddenly spoke up. He had remained on the outskirts of the henge near the treeline, though now he had moved in closer. “As guardians of Myrkviðr, it is only right that we take over such a duty. Centaurs, too, also already carry on a tradition of spellsinging.” Salazar nodded his agreement, relieved that it would be taken care of and he would not have to worry about yet another thing.

Bill suddenly clapped Salazar on the shoulder and gave him a smile. “The day has become late,” he said as he looked up towards the cloudless winter sky that was awash with deep golds and vibrant violets. “We should have a meal and then discuss what our next course of action is.” He patted Salazar’s shoulder and then stepped away to walk closer to his brother.

“We can get started on food,” Skoll reassured before he threw his arm over his brother’s shoulders and led him away back to where their bonfire had dwindled with inattention. It left Einar alone with Salazar as both Weasley brothers had followed after the twins.

The elf took Salazar’s arm again to inspect the bands once more. A few of the runes had faded at the edges. “You were reckless,” Einar said lowly. “I could have taken on at least half of the burden.”

Though he allowed his friend to inspect his bands, Salazar gave a shake of his head. “We are running out of time,” he said just as quietly. “You and I know very little of the Dark Lord’s movements. Perhaps even Dumbledore does not know. The longer Tyrfing remains where it is, the longer it is vulnerable. We still do not understand what plans Riddle has for the sword, just that it will likely prove catastrophic if it falls into his hands. Yet, if we take the sword with no regard to the forest, then we destroy the home of countless magical creatures.”

Salazar took his arm back from Einar’s grasp and breathed a sigh. “I know it is folly to traverse the depths of Myrkviðr once darkness falls, but we do not have the luxury of time to debate the contents of a spellsong that must be woven with unison. I will admit that I strained myself, but I do know that it was within my limits.”

It was not a pleased expression that Einar leveled on Salazar, but the elf gave in and accepted the wizard’s words. “Very well. But do not use wandless magic again until I have had a chance to darken those runes once more for you,” he ordered sternly before he turned on his heel, the motion elegant in the way only the fae-like elf could hope to obtain. Salazar hid a smile as he followed his friend back to their camp.

As they joined the others, Salazar took a seat on a log next to Bill as Einar went to sit with Charlie. Skoll was busy with the fire as he built it back up again while Hati pulled out ingredients for whatever they planned to make for dinner. Firenze had disappeared off into the forest, though Bill told him that the centaur had stated he would be back in a short while. “He said he would not go too far, but my guess is that he has gone off in search of something to eat,” Bill mentioned with a shrug. “So, what do you suppose we should do now? You finished the proxy sword, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Salazar agreed as he rested his forearms gingerly on his knees. He watched the hungry flames of their campfire for a moment to gather his thoughts before he turned his head towards Bill again. “Once dinner is finished, I believe we should attempt to retrieve Tyrfing. We will need to camp here tonight, but then we can leave tomorrow morning after first light.”

Bill nodded in acceptance as he leaned forward as well. “Yeah, nothing good will come of trying to travel through the forest at night. If we thought the day trip was bad, it has nothing on the forest at night.” He paused and frowned a bit. “Which, we should actually discuss a watch rotation then. The clearing will offer some protection, I would think, but it doesn’t hurt to be overly cautious.”

“I would agree,” Einar called over to them from across the campfire. “My kin and I require very little sleep, so I would not be adverse to taking first watch tonight as I can keep watch for a good portion of the time.”

“We’ll take second watch,” Skoll volunteered for his brother and him as he straightened up. “We don’t need much sleep either.” He flashed Salazar a grin before he went over to the preparation table to help Hati with the meal.

As he gave a laugh, Bill straightened up some. “And I can take the watch after that while Charlie follows after, if necessary.” If Einar and the twins took up the brunt of the night watches, that would leave only a few hours that would require an active guard from the others. “There will be no need for you to take any of the shifts, Herrick. You’ve had a plenty eventful day as it were, so you focus on getting sleep tonight. We can take care of the rest.”

Salazar breathed out a soft sigh and lifted a hand to rub at his face. “You are not wrong,” he stated quietly. There was an ache in his bones again that would only be chased away after a long hot soak in a bath along with a deep night’s sleep. That was only something he would get once they had returned to the castle, but he was not about to argue over what sleep he could get that night.

Bill gently clapped his hand on Salazar’s shoulder and gave him a smile. “We are here to help shoulder the burden. You know that, right?” He squeezed the dark haired wizard’s shoulder gently before he pulled his hand back again. “You know, Fleur has been asking about you,” he said as he abruptly changed the subject. “She’s been bugging me to invite you to our room for tea or lunch sometime.”

Amused more than anything, Salazar turned his gaze back to the campfire as it merrily danced in its pit. “I will take you up on that offer soon,” he decided. “Especially before things become more hectic.” Once Hilde arrived with her warband, he could only imagine how busy he might become. He shook his head at the thought before he gave Bill a small smile. “How far along is she now?”

A proud smile spread over Bill’s mouth as he thought about his wife and her pregnancy. There were still lines of worry about his eyes, but he did seem to be truly excited at the prospect of being a father. “Just over four months now,” he said with a hint of wonder in his voice. “She has been seeing Madam Pomfrey for her checkups the last few times and we just recently found out that it’s going to be a little girl.” Bill suddenly reached out to clasp Salazar’s hands. “We are still discussing names, but you will be one of her uncles. Won’t you, Herrick?”

Salazar could practically feel his heart stop and his mind come to a halt. An uncle? The part of him that was still Harry Potter was elated. Once upon a time, the Weasleys had been the first to really feel like family to the poor neglected child that he had been. To Salazar, as he was now, it seemed almost inconceivable that Bill would view him as close as family that he would actually want him to be part of his child’s life so closely. Still, the only thing that felt right was for him to take in a sharp breath before he opened his mouth to say, “Of course. I would be honoured.” The grin that Bill gave him could have blinded him it was so bright. Salazar could only manage a weak smile.

“Welcome back to the craziness that is the Weasley family!” Charlie called from across the campfire with a roguish grin. Salazar shot him a poisonous look before he spotted the way that Einar had attempted to hide his laughter.

“Do not think that I do not know how close you have become with the man next to you, Einar Fairwanderer. Am I right to assume that you, too, shall become part of the family?” The colour of Einar’s blush was such that it clashed with his fair skin and he refused to meet Charlie’s searching gaze. From behind the pair, Salazar could see how both Hati and Skoll tried to stifle their snickering as their language lessons had progressed to the point that they had understood the majority of what Salazar had said.

When Bill gave him a confused look of his own, Salazar waved him off with a faint smirk. “Pay it no mind,” he brushed off before he stood up. “If you will excuse me, I am going to go lay down until dinner has been finished.” Bill gave him a nod and a promise to fetch him once the food was ready, so Salazar made his way into the tent and retrieved his pack. He removed his bedroll and found a good spot on the side of the tent to set up. After he had removed his cloak and his boots, Salazar climbed into the blanket and settled down. Warming enchantments had been stitched into the lining of the bedroll, so Salazar breathed out a relieved sigh as it chased away some of his chill. It did not take him long to doze off.

Salazar did not know how much time had passed when someone came to wake him for dinner. He had been dimly aware of the quiet conversation outside of the tent, but suddenly Einar was there at his side. As he slowly blinked open his eyes, Salazar sleepily looked up at his friend. “Einar?” He murmured softly and closed his eyes again. Now that he had finally allowed his body to really rest, he felt like there was a heavy weight that held him down.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead a moment later before a vial was pressed into his palm. “Time to get up, Herrick. There is warm food that waits for you and then you will be able to rest again soon,” Einar coaxed gently. It was enough to get Salazar to fight off the sleepiness and then sit up.

After he had uncorked the potion vial, Salazar took a small sniff. “I smell willow bark… a pain reducer?” When Einar nodded, Salazar knocked back the concoction quickly before he returned the vial to the elf. He then carefully eased himself to his feet as his friend straightened from his crouch. “I appreciate it, thank you,” Salazar said before he led the way back to the campfire. As he neared it, Skoll held up a bowl as he offered it to Salazar.

“Feel better?” The man asked with a wolfish grin. “We brought along chicken, so we roasted it over the fire along with onion, potatoes, and carrots.” There were a lot of similar ingredients to the meal they had made before, but it was prepared differently. Salazar thought he would prefer the roasted potatoes and carrots along with the chicken over the stew.

“I will feel better once we have returned safely to the castle,” Salazar said with some amusement. “But, yes, thank you.” After he thanked Skoll, Salazar made his way over to sit down on one of the logs. Tearing a piece off of the chicken with his fingers, he popped it into his mouth. Yes, he definitely preferred this over the stew they had eaten even if the stew had been very good for what they had available. Salazar smirked a little to himself as he slipped a piece of potato into his mouth as well.

The meal passed in companionable conversation. Once all had eaten their fill, they all pitched in to help with the cleanup. Once finished, Salazar returned to the tent to fetch the proxy sword while the others set up to retrieve Tyrfing. As he stood next to the table, Salazar picked up the roughly carved sword and brushed his fingers over the multitude of runes that covered the length of it. He took a deep breath before he turned away from the table and exited the tent.

As the sun had set not long ago, the sky was a deep violet lit only by a few stars that had started to wink into existence in the winter sky. With it so dark, the others had set up Salazar’s torches around the inside of the henge. It cast an eerie sort of light against the vibrant colours of the oak. Even the bright blue carved lines of the stones seemed to glow even brighter in the flickering light of the fire. It gave the entire area a sort of mystical aura one might have otherwise expected from a fairy tale. It seemed fitting.

As he stepped through the break in the raised bank of the henge, Salazar spotted the others all gathered off to the side. There was no ceremony for this, no ritual. All they had to do was charge the proxy sword and then replace Tyrfing with it. With how powerful the sword was, they all had to contribute to charge the sword. So, he approached the group and instructed them that they needed to draw from their internal core to direct into the wooden sword. Salazar drew up a portion of his magic and directed it through the carved hilt until the runes started to glow. He then passed it on to Bill.

One by one they passed the wooden sword through each of their members until it returned to Salazar. By now the runes glowed brilliantly as Salazar took it back into his hands. Beside him, Bill retrieved a pair of thick leather gloves and the containment box that Hermione had provided with them at the beginning. Both of them prepared, Salazar let Bill approach the stone coffer first. The cursebreaker carefully removed the broken stones of the lid and set them aside. Inside the dark depths of the chest, Salazar could just barely make out an object wrapped in linen. The linen had been preserved just as the tree had been.

Bill reached into the chest then and removed the object. Salazar felt a little tremor move through the ground beneath his feet, but luckily it was only a small disturbance. The crystal was still active, so he could see the flow of natural magic through their feet. There had been a ripple as the object was removed, but it was not enough to create any large amount of concern. Not yet. So, without any hesitation, he knelt down next to Bill and laid their proxy sword into the coffer and immediately the small tremor disappeared. Relieved that there had not been any hiccups, Salazar sat back and turned his attention over to the redhead next to him. They exchanged a look before Bill carefully started to unwrap the object in his arms.

The sword that was unwrapped was dazzling. Salazar had heard descriptions of the mythical sword before, but none of them paid any sort of justice to the true Tyrfing. The sword’s hilt was made of what appeared to be gold and the blade was such a pure silver that it could only be mithril. It shone like fire with a radiance all of its own. The gold hilt was wrapped with a white leather that Salazar could not even begin to identify. Runes were etched down the blade itself, though Salazar did not take the time to identify them as he glanced back up at Bill. “This is most definitely Tyrfing,” he said with a breathy sort of laugh as elation stole his breath.

Behind them, he could hear both Hati and Skoll’s cheers. The others chattered in excitement as well, but the twins were definitely the loudest. Bill flashed him a grin before he wrapped the sword back up and then lowered it into their containment box. He latched it before he removed his gloves and sat back. “We’re not back at the castle yet, but we should definitely have a celebration once we return,” Bill said before he snorted. “Hermione is going to have a field day over the sword.”

Salazar climbed to his feet and held his hand out to help Bill back up as well. He chuckled as well as he looked over to the box. “She was already disappointed that she could not come on the expedition. She is never going to let me live this down.” He shook his head in amusement and leaned down to grab one of the handles while Bill grabbed the other. They carried the box back to the tent to stash it there and then exited to join the others around the campfire, though Bill made sure to set up an alarm around the box with another of his artifacts.

Einar had remained behind at the henge to collect the torches, but soon joined them as well. As he sat down next to Charlie, the man handed him a bottle from a small pack next to his feet. “What is this?” The elf asked curiously as he rotated the bottle. “Butterbeer?”

“Yeah, I figure we can celebrate at least a little bit,” Charlie said with a little shrug. “I prepared it just in case, but it looks like it’ll come in handy.” He passed out bottles to everyone else as well. “I’d have preferred to celebrate with some firewhiskey, but I know we need clear heads while we’re here. Drink up.” He hoisted his bottle in a salute before he popped off the cap and took a swig of the frothy drink.

Salazar looked over the bottle curiously before he uncapped his own bottle and then took a sip. It was frothy and had a sort of buttery caramel-like taste to it. It brought back vague memories of sitting in the Three Broomsticks with a warm frothy mug. He took another drink before he licked his lips. “It is a tad sweet, is it not?” He commented lightly.

His comment sent Charlie into bright laughter. “You have not even tried the super sweet version they made!”

A very sweet version? Salazar wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I doubt I would find such a thing appetizing. This is sweet enough.”

Both Bill and Charlie snorted at that before they shared a look that sent them into peals of laughter. “Says the one who apparently adored treacle tarts! Ron mentioned it in one of his letters to mum,” Bill explained with a wide grin.

“Then my tastes have changed,” Salazar said with a touch of annoyance. His sour mood could not last though. The butterbeer was warming and the fireside was just as warm. The company was good and they were able to trade stories into the night. Eventually though, Salazar found himself too tired to keep his eyes open much longer. He was the first to retire, though Bill was not far behind him. Not long after, Hati and Skoll set up their bedrolls on either side of Salazar like guards. The wizard was too tired to protest and was fast asleep before they had even finished climbing into their beds. Charlie remained with Einar for time on his watch, but eventually the dragonkeeper retired to bed as well.

Early the next morning, Salazar was woken by the sound of movement around the camp. The smell of food was what coaxed him out of his warm bedroll. As he settled his cloak around his shoulders, he stepped from the tent and over to where Hati and Skoll had started on breakfast for their crew. Bill was already awake and he looked a bit tired from his early morning watch, but he had a warm mug of what smelled like strong coffee nestled in his hands.

“Morning,” Bill greeted softly. He poured another mug of coffee from the kettle and then held it out to Salazar. “There is a bit of cream and sugar if you want it, but I’ve known you long enough now to know you like it black, don’t you?” He grinned a bit as Salazar took the mug with a soft word of thanks and then took a seat without any sweeteners to his coffee.

“What is for breakfast?” Salazar asked then before he took a sip of his coffee. He hummed softly at the bitter richness of the drink. Hopefully it would help to chase away the lingering drowsiness that still tugged at his limbs.

Bill glanced over to the cauldron that was suspended over the fire. “Porridge, I think. Though I think Hati mentioned that there would also be bacon and eggs for those who wanted it. And maybe some flatbread?” He gave a little shrug and then took a long sip of his own drink. “Looking forward to the trip back through the forest?”

Salazar scoffed softly as he settled his mug against his knee. “Not at all. I especially do not look forward to our river crossing. After the incident when we crossed the first time, I think the bridge collapsed. We will have to come up with something new to get us across safely.”

There was silence as Bill stared down into his mug. Finally, he sighed quietly and took a sip of his coffee. “You’re right. The bridge did collapse, so we will need to construct a bridge to get us across.” He paused then and turned his head to look at the wooden construct that had used to raise the stones. “It is a bit of a trek back to where we need to cross, but I thought we could attempt to carry the logs with us. They should be long enough to slide across to create a bridge just wide enough to cross if we lace them together. The birch logs are strong, but they shouldn’t be extraordinarily heavy to carry. Hati and Skoll are strong enough to carry two logs between the two of them, while the rest of us can easily pair off to carry the other two.”

“It is worth a shot since we already have the logs here,” Salazar mused as he looked over to the construct as well. “Though I can only hope that we will not run into those spiders again.”

“That is certainly a risk,” Bill muttered as he absently swirled his coffee around. “Hopefully they will be smart enough to stay away.”

Luckily, they were. Once everyone had joined the campfire for breakfast and had eaten, the group had packed up the camp. Firenze had returned sometime during the night, though he never gave away if he had watched them at all from a distance or not. He declared to them that he had found another path through the forest that would lead them around the territory of the acromantulas. It would also provide them with a safe passage over the river so there was no need to take the logs with them. It was just as well as it provided them an easier time in the transport of the containment box with the sword.

Their path still took them down into the old ravine, but they made it down and then up the cliffs safely even if the journey was a bit slow. They never once ran into the spiders, though Hati confided to Salazar that he could hear the faint clicking that they made in the distance as the spiders watched their progress.

When they reached the river crossing, it was a part of the river that was not so treacherous. The water was not deep here and there were many flat rocks that provided safe islands as stepping stones. Firenze volunteered to venture over first as he was able to cross through the swiftly moving water, though he had to fight against some of the currents. He carried a rope with him just as they had done before, to provide a safety line for each man as they crossed over the river.

None of them allowed Salazar to cross last and he was unburdened as he was sent over the river. He waded through the shallowest places, though often used the exposed boulders to cross above the water. He kept one hand always firmly wrapped about the rope until he reached the other side. Luckily, the others all managed to cross over without any incident. The twins, strongest amongst them, were tasked to carry the containment chest between them. They made it safely, though neither seemed pleased about the crossing.

The rest of the trek winded just as much as it had the first time around, though they managed it without any major incident. When they finally reached the edge of the forest, it was there that they parted ways with Firenze. Salazar thanked him for his guidance with the knowledge they would have never managed to get to the heart of Myrkviðr so easily if it was not for the centaur’s help. He also promised to meet with the centaur again in the future to discuss further plans for the forest.

It was just past midday when they finally made it to the wooden doors of the castle. Hati and Skoll offered to help carry the chest down to Salazar’s rooms while the rest all scattered off to their respective quarters. Once the twins dropped off the chest in Salazar’s bedroom for temporary safekeeping, they said their goodbyes to Salazar and then disappeared off towards their own rooms.

The first thing that Salazar did after he was alone was to strip down and take a long bath. Eolas joined him in the water, so Salazar recounted the journey to his familiar. In return, Eolas provided anything noteworthy that had happened within the castle walls during the wizard’s absence. There was not much to mention.

When Salazar finally stepped out of the tub, he went to dress and found a meal that was waiting for him courtesy of Einar. The elf had sent it along with a house elf while he also provided a couple of potions for the wizard. Salazar felt fond exasperation as he downed the potions and then enjoyed the warm meal. Exhausted, he called for a house elf to take the empty tray away and then slipped into bed for a much needed rest. With the recovery of Tyrfing, it felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Though it was still early in the afternoon, Salazar slipped off into a rest that was better than he had taken in a long time.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

When Salazar finally stepped out of the tub, he went to dress and found a meal that was waiting for him courtesy of Einar. The elf had sent it along with a house elf while he also provided a couple of potions for the wizard. Salazar felt fond exasperation as he downed the potions and then enjoyed the warm meal. Exhausted, he called for a house elf to take the empty tray away and then slipped into bed for a much needed rest. With the recovery of Tyrfing, it felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Though it was still early in the afternoon, Salazar slipped off into a rest that was better than he had taken in a long time.

Chapter Nineteen

Once they had returned from the forest, Salazar had spent the rest of the day in his bed to recover. He had taken a few more potions to help with the aches, but mostly just let sleep ease whatever pains remained. He woke once for dinner, but otherwise kept to bed. However, the end result was that he was awake the next morning well before dawn had even broken upon the horizon. Salazar sighed softly as he stared up at the ceiling, but then finally rolled out of bed. He was awake now and there was no way he would be able to go back to sleep. So he took a shower and then settled in front of his hearth with a book on modern potions. Eolas joined him, the serpent’s head settled against his thigh.

Salazar remained like that for several hours before he suddenly became aware of how hungry he was. After he closed his book, he checked the time and found that it was just past seven. The winter sun had still not risen, but breakfast had already started in the Great Hall. It was a good time to get something to eat before he had his meeting with Dumbledore. He had sent the man a message at his dinnertime the night before as he knew that the headmaster would want an update on what had happened in the forest. He was scheduled to go see the old man after breakfast had ended. He was going to need food to keep his energy up enough to deal with Dumbledore, so now was as good a time as any to go eat.

After he had decided that he would go to the Great Hall for breakfast, Salazar pulled on his boots and then said goodbye to Eolas. After his trip through the dungeons to the Great Hall, Salazar took a seat next to Blaise and first reached forward to pour himself a mug of coffee. He was also quick to note that the Headmaster was not in attendance, though Salazar waved it off and concentrated on his coffee.

“You look far too awake for this time of the morning,” Blaise grumbled from beside him as he nursed a mug of coffee of his own.

With a quick glance to his companion, Salazar hid a smirk in his coffee. “This is not even the earliest that we have been awake, my friend,” he teased lightly. “Have you become spoiled for sleep these past few days where we have not gathered for early morning sparring?”

“I have decided that I am not going to dignify that with a response,” Blaise shot back before he quickly took another sip of his drink.

“Ah, that is because you know that I am right,” Salazar drawled before he chuckled at the poisonous glare it earned him in response. He sobered then as he gathered some food on his plate. “I have a meeting with the Headmaster after breakfast. So, let us all plan to gather at the Room at lunch. We can all have a meal together and discuss what had happened in Myrkviðr.”

Blaise gave a quick nod, appeased. “Perfect. I can let the others know,” he promised before he turned back to his meal again.

They remained in companionable silence until Salazar finished up his breakfast and then stood. He said goodbye to Blaise and then left to go meet up with Dumbledore. Once he was at the guarded entrance, he had to run through a list of sweets to gain himself entry. Salazar was just thankful for the Weasley twins and the list they had put together for him awhile back. It was a pretty lengthy list of both modern mundane and magical treats. Entrance to the headmaster’s office would have been much more difficult without the list, especially if he wanted to hide just how much power he could have over Hogwarts’ wards.

Salazar shook his head and ascended the stairs before he rapped sharply on the wooden door to the office. “Come in, come in,” the Headmaster coaxed Salazar in while he sounded almost jovial. Salazar wondered what on earth had happened to put the old man in such a good mood, but he found he did not dare ask. But if the old wizard was in a good mood, then it would make parts of this conversation easier.

After he shut the door behind him, Salazar approached the desk. “Good morning, Headmaster,” he greeted.

“Oh, please, call me Albus, my boy,” the man interrupted. Salazar could only blink in surprise and some suspicion. Dumbledore chuckled and offered the younger wizard a cup of tea. “Most of my professors call me by my name, so I think it is about time that you also. Don’t you think so?”

Salazar breathed out a quiet sigh and accepted the cup of tea. “Though I currently am not a professor with any classes, I must thank you for the honour… Albus,” he said softly and then took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the headmaster’s desk. It felt strange to call the wizard by name, especially as his memories returned to him. As a young student, he had looked up to the man who had seemingly saved him from the neglect of the Dursley family with his grandfatherly charm. Now, he understood just how fallible the old man really was.

Dumbledore took a sip of his own tea before he leaned back in his seat. “You are still the Head of Slytherin House and a professor,” he stated calmly. “But now, then. How did your expedition into the Forbidden Forest go? You did not return anytime Friday,” the man probed curiously.

As he took a sip of his own tea to give himself a chance to gather his thoughts, Salazar finally lowered his cup and glanced over to Fawkes’ perch. The phoenix seemed to ignore him as he preened himself. Salazar resisted the urge to roll his eyes and then turned his eyes back on the headmaster. “We met first with the centaur herd and Chieftain Magorian, where we received permission to enter further into the forest. We also received a guide into the depths, which I am entirely grateful for,” Salazar started. “I fear we would not have ever managed our objective if we did not have a guide.”

After he had taken another sip of his tea, Salazar continued on with the tale of how their journey through the forest had gone. Dumbledore listened attentively and barely spoke, his only interruptions to get clarification over a few things. Once Salazar had finished, Dumbledore steepled his hands in front of him on his desk. “Incredible. I will have to see the circle for myself some time,” he mused softly before he focused back on Salazar. “What is your intention for the sword?”

Salazar was quiet for a moment before he breathed out a sigh. “Once this war is over, it will be returned to the grove in which we found it. If not, the substitute we made will eventually break and the magic within the forest will collapse. Until it can be returned to its resting place, I will keep it hidden here. In the forest, it was left unchecked for hundreds of years. It is a powerful artifact, but we do not have to worry about it affecting the wards of the school. The safest place to keep it will be here at the school.” If Hogwarts were to fall, and they failed, only then would Riddle get his hands on the weapon. The repercussions would be great, but they would likely not be around to deal with the consequences of their failure. If Riddle got his hands on Tyrfing, they would have already been doomed. For now, Hogwarts was the safest place for the sword.

“Will you use it yourself?” Dumbledore suddenly asked as he interrupted Salazar’s thoughts.

With a blink, the dark haired wizard lowered his drink. “Pardon?”

The old wizard leaned back in his chair once more as he studied Salazar. “You and I are both well aware that one day there will be a final battle to determine the fate of the wizarding world,” he said solemnly. “Whether it takes place here or another battlefield has yet to be determined, but it will happen. When that day happens, we both know that you have worked too hard in opposition of Tom Riddle to stay away from that battlefield.” He was silent a moment before he stroked a hand over his long beard. “You are an enigma, my boy. If I am to be frank with you, there are fractured pieces of your puzzle that do not always fit where I think they might fall. You remind me strongly of a number of fallen or lost wizards, yet there are things that I cannot quite put my finger on.”

Salazar let himself give a wane smile. “We all have our secrets. Do we not, Albus?” He kept a tight hold of his occlumency shields and met Dumbledore’s eyes.

“Quite right, my boy,” Dumbledore said innocently. “Though a few of my dark secrets have seen the light under Rita Skeeter’s quill.”

At that, Salazar did not hold back his grimace. “I will admit that I have read portions of that book, though I found it rather sensationalized and I highly doubt that every piece of it held the whole truth.” He placed his empty teacup down on the edge of the desk and then leaned back in his chair. “To be fully honest with you, Albus, I do not believe that you are as good of a man as many of your followers like to believe of you. You have made mistakes and there are decisions that you have made that I cannot get behind. However, that is the hazard that comes with power.” He himself had made decisions that he would likely regret for a long time. “You have done what you could with what was available to you and I cannot fault you for that.” He did not have to like every decision, but he could understand the intentions behind them.

As Salazar watched him, Dumbledor breathed out a heavy sigh and smoothed a hand over his long beard. “That is true enough.” His gaze sharpened though. “Just as I know that you hide your identity.”

Salazar could honestly say that he did not expect Dumbledore to be so blunt. WIth a sigh, he turned his head away. “Look. My name really is Herrick because it was a name bestowed upon me. It is also true that I have woven both truths and partial truths together along with a few lies. However, I have never lied where it counted. This school is precious to me and I would lay down my life for her protection. I have felt that way from the start. Over the months, I have gained companions I would die to protect as well.” And as much as many of them tried to reassure him, Salazar knew it was a strong possibility that he might still lose his life against the Dark Lord.

Neither of them could make another comment as Fawkes suddenly spread his wings with a soft coo and then launched himself to land upon Salazar’s knee. The wizard stiffened at the sudden proximity of the creature, but he did not shy away from Fawkes. With a sigh then, he reached up to scratch just beneath the bird’s beak. Fawkes gave a happy purr and ruffled his feathers. ‘He is a very dear friend, Albus Dumbledore,’ the bird suddenly spoke to both of them.

“I am surprised you would call me a friend, you fiery chicken,” Salazar grumbled and got a cuff from Fawkes’ wing for his troubles.

The expression on Dumbledore’s face was one of amusement that hid the calculation underneath. “I am surprised that you are on such good terms with him, Herrick,” the old man stated lightly. “Enough that he would consider you a friend. He is rather selective in who he bestows such honour.”

Salazar was tempted to say that he had known Fawkes before even the old headmaster, but that would be too petty. Normally he might not be above such things, but he restrained himself. Still perched on his knee, Fawkes trilled in amusement as if he knew Salazar’s thoughts. It was very likely he did, the toasty old bird that he was who did not understand personal boundaries on the best of days.

That thought earned him a haughty huff from the scarlet bird before he hopped up to perch on the chair back instead. He then busied himself in grooming Salazar’s hair, almost in retaliation. Though grooming might be too nice of a word for the way the bird pulled strands of hair from his braids. “You are an absolute menace,” Salazar grumbled, though the bird rather primly ignored him and continued with his innocent act. With a groan, Salazar let him be.

Instead, the dark haired wizard rubbed at his scarred cheek with a heavy sigh before he dropped his hands to clasp them between his knees. “Albus, there is one more thing that I had intended to speak to you about.”

When he took a long pause, Dumbledore gave him an encouraging nod. “Yes, go ahead, my boy.”

After a moment of hesitation, the dark haired wizard wetted his lips and then began to speak again. “You remember my account of when I had taken the journey to Helheim, yes? I mentioned the family that gave me hospitality before I left on the long trek. Eirik and Siv along with their daughter Hilde.” Dumbledore nodded, but said nothing. “I have been in correspondence with Hilde, who is not much younger than I am. Recently, she has written to me to say that she has set sail from Fyrkat with a warband that she has risen with the help of her father. If all goes well, they should be here within a couple of weeks at the latest.”

There was silence that stretched for what felt like an eternity. A small spark of panic flared in Salazar’s chest, but he kept his expression calm as he waited for Dumbledore to respond. When the man only stared at him with a furrowed brow, Salazar continued. “The Dark Lord has ravished their lands as well in his quest for Tyrfing. They have every right to defend their homeland even if it is not within their borders. We can use their support as well, to give a decisive turn in our favour to this war.”

“And where do you plan to house this warband? Their culture is very different from ours,” Dumbledore said finally.

Though Salazar felt like there was a hidden meaning behind Dumbledore’s words, he tried to reassure himself that he was just paranoid. So, he gave a thin smile. “During the Triwizard Tournament a number of years ago, the Beauxbaton carriage was housed in a clearing on the edge of the forest. The area should be large enough to house their camp.” He paused before he met Dumbledore’s eyes once more, his expression firm. “I will take the responsibility of honouring hospitality.” He would do everything in his power to welcome Hilde and the rest of her people. Even if it meant that he had to give up a few of his secrets to Dumbledore.

However, it was then that Fawkes gave a soft trill and an almost stern glare as he leveled the look on the old wizard. He did not even have to say anything, though Salazar could almost feel the disapproval that rose off of the phoenix. If it had been any other situation, Salazar might have laughed. It was a look that he was not at all unfamiliar with as it had been often leveled on Godric. At the thought of his friend he felt a twist in his chest, but quickly forced it away.

“It seems you know something that I do not,” the headmaster said wryly as he looked over at the phoenix from the corner of his eyes. He then turned his full attention back on Salazar. “Very well. We cannot very well in good conscience turn away such aid,” he said diplomatically. “However, I would like to meet them once they arrive at Hogwarts and they will not be allowed into the castle until then.”

It seemed reasonable enough, though it did not quite sit right with Salazar. Still, he gave a quick nod. “Of course, Albus. I would have expected nothing else.”

Fawkes suddenly leaned his head down and rubbed his beak gently against Salazar’s ear. ‘Do not fret, he cannot hear me,’ the bird reassured Salazar with a croon to his voice. ‘If Albus tries anything, I will have a great many words with him. Hogwarts will not go against your will, even if she has to stand against the Headmaster’s power. Hilde and her people will find safe haven here in thanks for their promise of support.’

Salazar reached up and gently stroked the crown of Fawkes’ head as he focused on his thanks. He hoped that all would go well and it would not come down to that, but he did not know what the future held. And he certainly did not dare ask Luna.

“I leave them entirely in your care then,” Dumbledore said suddenly as he watched Salazar with the phoenix. The old man then pulled out a pocketwatch before he made a soft sound. “Forgive me, Herrick, but I will have to end our meeting here. I have another meeting shortly with Severus about the progress of the dueling class.”

Not about to fight the dismissal, Salazar carefully stood up so he did not knock Fawkes from the back of the chair. “Of course, Albus. Thank you for your time and I will let you know if there are any updates about anything,” he promised before he turned away from the old wizard. He gently stroked Fawkes’ feathers with a soft goodbye before he left out the door and made the trek down to his office.

With a quiet sigh, Salazar settled in his chair and stared down at his desk before he rubbed his hands over his face. Heimir gave a soft click of his beak then from where he was perched on the back of one of the chairs before the hearth. With a strong beat of his wings, he took to the air and then landed on the desk in front of Salazar. Heimir folded his wings back in and then hopped to the edge of the desk. The raven made a clicking sort of sound and tilted his head in a familiar avian way. Salazar thought he might have been curious.

With a soft chuckle, Salazar dropped his hands and then reached out to gently stroke the raven’s sleek feathers. “I am just fine, my friend,” he reassured Heimir before he leaned back in his chair again. “You will be able to see your friend soon,” he promised. “Hilde has promised to send Troels ahead once they are close to shore.” He opened up a drawer of his desk and reached in to grab a treat for Heimir, though he paused when he saw the letter from Godric, the one he had discovered in the Room. He had shoved it into his desk and had nearly forgotten about it. Part of him wanted to burn it, but that was an impulse he easily quelled. If it had been months ago, he might have gone through with the impulse. Now, the greater part of him was curious about Godric’s words to him. When was it written? In the earliest days of Hogwarts? In the days after his banishment and return to his current time? Or, was it written just before Godric had disappeared? Even Fawkes had not seemed to know where the man had gone, though it was likely that it was death that had severed the familiar bond.

Whatever the case may be, there was only one way to find out what was contained within the letter. Salazar gathered whatever strength he could summon and then carefully unfolded the brittle parchment. With a deep breath, he began to decipher the faded Latin letters that spelled out Godric’s final words to him.

“My dearest brother,

The words I write here are with the heaviest of hearts. No words are powerful enough in any language to describe just how much I am sorry for what I have done to you. You were my closest friend, my closest confidante, and the brother of my heart. Whatever part Cayden had in this turmoil, it was still by my hand that saw you banished from the only real home that you have ever known. I could never ask you to forgive me just as I can never forgive myself for the part that I have paid. Rowena tries to tell me that it is not my fault, but I still blame myself for not being strong enough to fight off that insidious magic. I should have realized that something was wrong, but it is you that has paid for my weakness.

In the time that you have been gone, so much has changed. They told me what became of your brother. No matter what had become of him, I knew just how much you loved him. He was precious to me as well even if we did not often get along. To hear that he had become a draugr, it haunted me. He was put to rest, but I took no part in it. Instead, I shall erect a memorial for him within the bounds of the forest that is across from the lake. If you ever find your way back to Hogwarts, which you must have to read these words, stand upon the cliff that overlooks the loch. When you stare out over the loch, you shall see the young trees that stand on the other side. Within these pines, you shall find a cairn in Cayden’s memory. I have already selected the perfect spot. It is the least that I can do.

Salazar, my dear Salazar, I am so very tired. The moment I realized that you were gone, I have done everything within my power to search for you. There are many masters that have come to lend their aid in classes, so I have given over my duties and yours to them. Instead, it is my duty to find you. Whether you are alive or dead, I must bring you home to Hogwarts. Only then will the hole in my heart be filled. But I am so very tired and feel if I have exhausted every last thin grasp of hope that I could have grabbed. There is one last option for me, though I do not know what sort of toll it might bring to me. Ever the foolish Gryffindor I am.”

The letter was unsigned and much of the lettering was unsteady, some of the ink smudged. Salazar felt his heart squeeze and he felt like he could not breathe. With shaking hands, he shoved the letter back into his desk and stood so abruptly that Heimir took flight with a startled croak. Salazar grabbed his cloak from off of a hook and he was out the door with a single minded focus. Everything around him seemed to fall away as he nearly fled the castle. He could not even recount how he managed to find himself in the grove of pine trees that Godric had described in his letter.

Salazar’s breath came in short pants as he nearly ran through the trees as he searched for Cayden’s memorial. Even though he was on the lookout for it, Salazar still came upon it abruptly. His breath stolen from him completely, Salazar fell to his knees in front of the large stacked stone structure. It was made up of many stones, each stacked with care until it created a sort of tower that stood taller than a man.

As his cloak settled around him, Salazar became aware of a weighted object in his hand. When he looked down at it in muted surprise, it was to see that it was Arawn’s Hallow. He could not even begin to recall when he had grabbed it, but that hardly mattered now in this moment of reckless compulsion that had suddenly overtaken him.

“Cayden,” he breathed out in Gaelic. “Cayden, please come to me!”

The ethereal shade that appeared before him was muted and seemed just out of phase with the tangible world. But that was not what Salazar noticed. All he could see was the young man that he had faced just months ago when he had cut him down with magic. It was the same windswept chestnut hair and splattering of sun touched freckles across a pale nose. Even the vibrant blue of his eyes were the same as Salazar remembered them even through the muted veil. “Cayden,” Salazar croaked out as he reached out a hand.

Cayden approached him then and crouched down before his elder brother. Though he was not corporeal, he still placed his hands against Salazar’s so that the black haired wizard could feel the coolness of his presence. The spectre leaned forward then and placed his forehead against Salazar’s. It felt like barely a whisper, the coolness a relief against his flushed face. “Sal,” the spectre whispered.

As he heard his name, Salazar closed his eyes and breathed out shakily. “I did not think that you would respond to the call,” he said quietly. “The Hallow would compel you to answer the summons, but I had thought you might have returned to a new life on the mortal plane.”

“I waited for you,” Cayden responded gently as he sat back and folded his hands on his lap. “For a time, I was in Hel’s realm. Death… brings perspective. I lamented my choices in life, everything I had done to hurt you. So, I waited. Waited so long that memories have faded at the edges. But I never forgot you. And I will continue to wait for you until you have passed from this world over to mine.”

It hurt that he could not embrace his little brother, but it was enough just to see him again. “I am sorry, Cayden. I am sorry that I was not the older brother you needed, that I could not see that you needed help. I should have been there for you.”

Cayden shook his head in response. “You do not need to apologize, Sal. I was the one who hurt you. I was the one who was so damaged and so far gone that you needed to kill me. Do not apologize to me because there is no need for it. Instead, I want you to live. I want you to heal.” He gave a smile, a smile that was calm and one that Salazar had not seen in a very long time. “Tell me about your life here, what friends you have made. I can tell that you are in a different time. Though time has no meaning to the dead, I know I have waited for a very long time to see you again, yet you have barely aged a day.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Salazar sat back on his heels and rubbed a hand over his face. He breathed out then before he tilted his head back and looked up towards the sky as he attempted to gather his thoughts. The stone was still clutched tightly in one hand. “Truthfully, I have only been here for a few months. Nearly six months to be exact.” It was crazy to think just how much had happened in that half of a year.

As Salazar recounted what had happened over the long months since the meadow, Cayden listened quietly and attentively. Just the same as Salazar had always remembered him. When he finally finished, his throat felt raw but he barely noticed it. “After I finished Godric’s letter, I needed to get out of there,” he admitted softly. “I have always prided myself on my composure, but the only thing I could think of was getting myself far away from the letter. He had mentioned the cairn he had built in your honour, so this was the only place I could think of to go.” There was a beat of silence before Salazar hung his head. “I do not even know when I grabbed Arawn’s Hallow. I apologize that I called you from your rest. I know that the land of the living is no place for the dead, so it must be painful for you here.”

“I have already said you do not need to apologize, Salazar,” the shade said firmly. “I will always come to your side. Always.” Cayden gave a small smile then, an expression that was almost serene. “I was always jealous of Godric, you know? But death has given me a long time to think over the mistakes I have made and to come to peace with what sort of reparations I might make. But to hear that Godric raised a cairn for me just because he cared what you thought of me, it makes me sad for my young self who only felt possessive of your attention. If I see Godric again one day, I want to apologize to him.”

“We will all be together again one day,” Salazar said quietly as he gave his brother a soft smile. He then breathed out a quiet sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair. He had loosened it from its braids that had already been ruined by Fawkes’ attentions, but had neglected to put it back up yet. “I should let you return,” he said after another beat of silence. “Before you go though, I just want to tell you one thing, Cayden. It will take me a long time still to reconcile your actions and how they have changed my life. However, I forgive you because you were a victim in your own way. Your choices were very wrong and you do have to pay for the crimes you committed, but I think you have done just that. So, I forgive you and I will always love you.” Not all was well and good yet, but he thought he might have finally found the strength to heal. There was still guilt, but he would deal with it in time.

Cayden floated in closer again and hovered his hand over Salazar’s. “I thank you for even giving me this chance even if things will never go back to the way they were,” the spectre said solemnly. “Stay safe, Salazar. And do not call me again with the Hallow, as you are right that it is painful to be pulled to the mortal realm by its magicks. However, whenever the veil between worlds is thinnest, I will be there to answer your call should you reach out to me. Be well, big brother, and let me not embrace you for a long time yet.”

With that final goodbye, Salazar nodded and loosened his grip around the stone. He nearly let it fall to the earth, but thought better of it and instead carefully stowed it in the pouch by his side. He was so tired…

“Who was he?”

The voice behind him startled Salazar badly as he had not been aware of any other presence. Before he had even registered what had been said, Salazar spun with his wand out and a spell on his lips. The pale yellow spell meant for incapacitation flew harmlessly over the head of Sirius Black as the older wizard quickly dodged out of the way. “Bloody hell, those reflexes,” the man muttered before he held his hand up in surrender. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He dropped his hands then as Salazar slowly relaxed. “I also didn’t really mean to intrude. Saw you practically run here from the school, caught the end of the conversation though I have no idea what he said.”

Black grimaced a bit then and turned his gaze towards the cairn. “Part of me was concerned if you were okay because you looked pretty pale, but I was also curious admittedly.” He moved in a little closer to the stone structure. “Didn’t know you knew this place was here. James, Remus, and I found it in our sixth year on one of our full moon runs. No one ever comes here from what I’m aware.”

Salazar frowned and carefully tucked his wand away again. “As a cairn, it can only be a memorial,” he told Black. “A friend let me know it was here.” He looked to the spot where Cayden had stood. “The man was my younger brother. I do not know what came over me, but I needed to see him.”

“The brother that you killed,” Black said flatly, his expression void of any emotion.

With a sharp look towards the man, Salazar grit his teeth and then forced himself to look away again so he would not be tempted to jinx the man in some perceived notion of self defense. “I dueled Cayden and killed him, yes. He was not in his right mind anymore and I had set out to stop him from enacting the plans he had concocted.” Salazar’s shoulders slumped. “He is in a better place now in Helheim. His mind has returned to him and he says he will wait for me. There are many friends who wait for me.” He whispered the last bit before he turned to face Black again.

The man watched him for a moment before he ran a rough hand through his hair. “I really can’t give you any shit over it. Honestly, with this damn war we can’t afford to be high and mighty about stuff like that. You would not be the first brother to stand on the opposite side of family in this war.”

Salazar could not stop the loud snort that was surprised out of him. When Black blinked at him owlishly, Salazar broke down into near hysterical laughter as he doubled over. Unknowingly, the other wizard had hit the nail on the head. He and Cayden truly had been the first brothers on opposite sides of this war. It was basically their fight that had started it all, not that he could say that to Black. Though, he might mention it to Einar.

Once he had finally recovered, Salazar straightened up and cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Black. I momentarily took leave of my senses.” He really did not want to have to explain himself.

Luckily, Black waved him off with a rough sigh. “Honestly, after the years I spent in Azkaban, you could say I’m used to it,” he said with a shrug. He looked the man over and then made a sharp motion with his thumb over his shoulder. “Hey, I know we’ve had a bit of a rough start and such, but why don’t you come back to my room for a drink? I have some firewhiskey on hand.”

“It is not even midday,” Salazar commented with amusement as he recalled the sensibilities of the current time. “And it is still a school.”

Black gave a somewhat roguish smirk. “That has never stopped me before. Besides, you look like you could use a stiff drink.”

Salazar could not help but give in to Black. He glanced over to the cairn once more before he gave a nod. “Yes, alright. I will take you up on that offer,” he decided. He followed after Black then and quickly caught up to him as they made the long trek back around the lake and towards the castle. As they walked, Salazar glanced over to the man next to him. “Why the sudden change of heart?” He took a risk to ask.

The older man looked over to him briefly before he turned his gaze back to their path. “I sat myself down and had a long debate,” he said a bit gruffly. “Besides your rather irritable introduction to me, you haven’t been the one with a problem. I’ve always been the one to start stuff. Then, some of what you’ve said to me has gotten me to think about my place in this war. War has been my whole life and I’ll admit that my mind isn’t always the most stable after prolonged exposure to dementors. I was projecting my problems onto you. And other Slytherins as well, honestly.” He trailed off before he gave a quick shrug, the motion jerky. “I’ve been a right bastard and I know it. I probably won’t be able to make up for some of the accusations I’ve thrown at you, but I’ve realized that you really aren’t my enemy and I should stop fighting you.” There was a beat of silence before Black looked over to him. “And, honestly, my gut tells me that I’ll regret it if I keep on like I have.”

There was silence between them as Salazar processed the answer. Finally, he gave a small smile. “I appreciate the honesty. I apologize for anything hurtful I have said as well.” Sirius deserved the truth. But he also needed to tell Hermione as well. She had been one of his closest friends as Harry Potter, but she still did not know the truth. She might have her suspicions, but Salazar suspected that she was too focused on other things to really figure out the puzzle of his identity. He should tell her soon and then, perhaps after that, he could tell Black as well. But, for now, he needed to make it through this meeting with his heart in one piece.

Once they made it to Black’s rooms in the castle, the man invited Salazar to sit on a plush couch near the fireplace. He then unlocked a chest and rooted around it before he pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey and a couple of glasses. He took it over to where Salazar had sat down and then poured the younger wizard a drink. He handed over the glass and then dropped down into a plush chair across from Salazar. He then poured himself a drink as well and set the bottle on the table between them. “So…,” Black started before he took a quick drink from his cup. Once he had swallowed the fiery liquor, he cleared his throat and then swirled his cup around. “You don’t dress much like a wizard, you know. Not that long after your trip north, you abandoned robes altogether.”

“Robes are not comfortable,” Salazar said before he took a sip of his drink. It burned all the way down as the cinnamon flavour of it was nearly overwhelming. He did think he caught a hint of cherry as well though. With a small cough, he lowered his drink. “Interesting flavour.”

Black gave a laugh and raised his glass in a little salute. “First time drinking firewhiskey?”

Salazar rolled his eyes before he took another drink. It was not entirely to his liking, but it was not the worst thing he had ever drunk. “I am more used to honeyed meads or even beers,” he replied as he swirled his glass as well. It looked almost like liquid fire and he supposed it was another reason for its name.

“Ah, but there is nothing like being firewhiskey drunk,” Black said with a snort as he draped one arm over the back of his chair.

With a laugh of his own, Salazar leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “And you have never had too many drinks with Northmen,” he said with a smirk. “It is the sort of thing that can get you into trouble, if you are not careful.”

Black gave a barking laugh and then knocked back the last of his drink. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“Actually,” Salazar started before he paused. “The Headmaster is already aware, but there is a warband coming from the Northern communities to help with the war effort. They will likely be here sometime in the next two weeks. There will definitely be at least one night where we will spend it into the early morning hours drinking and feasting. You should join us.”

At first, Salazar could not read Black’s face. The man blinked at him sort of blankly before he suddenly snorted and leaned forward to pour himself another drink. “You know, I think I might take you up on that. I’ve been to some rowdy parties in my youth, especially after a quidditch match. Especially the World Cup. A party with a Viking warband? Yeah, that sounds like it’d be a heck of a party.”

Salazar smirked a bit and took another drink of his firewhiskey. “I do not know how it would compare to a sports victory party, but you will have experienced nothing else quite like it. I can promise you that.”

“Can’t wait,” Black quipped playfully before he leaned back in his chair. “Speaking of quidditch though, do you play? Or follow any teams?”

The question seemed to be a sort of neutral conversationalist piece, but it actually made Salazar think. “I used to play,” he said finally. “I was a seeker.” The memories were faint and sometimes seemed to skip, but he did remember. “It seems like a lifetime ago that I was last on a broom. I cannot say that I was a fan of any teams, however. I never really put much thought into it.” He thought of the Chudley Cannons, but wondered if that was the vague memories of Ronald Weasley that were an influence.

“It’s a pity that Albus canceled the games for the year,” Black said ruefully. “I know the teams still will practice together occasionally, but it’s not the same. Might have given the kids something to look forward to, but I can understand why he had to cancel them.” He took a drink from his glass and then licked his lips. “Harry was a seeker, too,” he said suddenly, his voice low. “Played for Gryffindor House, of course. He was a lot like James in that regard as James was also an amazing quidditch player. He played chaser, though could have been just as good at playing seeker.”

As Black spoke of James, Salazar suddenly thought of the young man he had seen as a spectre on Samhainn night. He remembered the bespeckled man that had said he was so proud of him, then told him of the prophecy that hung over his head. As his chest tightened, Salazar knocked back the rest of his drink and then set the glass down on the table. He remembered the redhaired woman whose hair was as bright as a flame even with how faded the spirits were, how she had looked up at him with such heartbreaking love.

“You have that look in your eyes again,” Black said suddenly as he leaned over to pour Salazar some more of the firewhiskey.

Salazar stared down at the glass before he reached out and picked it up. “And what look is that exactly?” He asked a bit testily, though he did not meet Black’s eyes and muttered a small thanks for the whiskey.

“The same haunted look I see reflected back at me in mirrors,” Black responded as he leaned back once more. “Life shattering loss.”

Salazar could not stop the bitter laugh as he swirled his whiskey and then took a drink. After a grimace, he roughly ran his fingers through his loose strands of hair. “The honest truth is that ten years ago, I lost everything. Absolutely everything. I ended up in a place that was completely foreign to me, but I used my very blood and sweat to rebuild my life. And then, not even half a year ago, everything was stolen from me once more. I have clawed my way back to where I am now, but it seems I cannot outrun the ghosts of my past. Sometimes quite literally.”

As he listened, Black kept a grim expression though he snorted at Salazar’s final comment. “You are a damn secretive man, Herrick Evans,” he muttered before he let out a sigh and stared down at his cup. “But you’re strong. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope that I will see Harry again. Remus helps too, but he has his own demons to battle. From what I remember of you when I first met you, you’ve changed. Because of that, you are a much stronger man than I am. And I think I’m jealous of that sometimes.”

“You will see him again,” Salazar said quietly. “Harry Potter, I mean. And I think he would be happy to know that his godfather cares for him so much.” And hopefully he would be able to say that one day as Harry Potter. At least, with Black’s awareness that he used to be Harry Potter.

Black pressed a hand over his mouth and averted his eyes. He remained like that for a long moment before he suddenly knocked back the rest of his drink and then abandoned the glass on the table. “Come on. I need to let out my feelings in a constructive manner,” he spoke as if he parroted words often spoken to him. “Know a good place? Actually, the Room of Requirement will work fine.”

As he held back a sigh, Salazar abandoned his glass on the table and stood up. “You sober enough for it?” He felt warm from the firewhiskey that sat in his belly, but his head was still plenty clear. However, Salazar had no idea what sort of tolerance Black had with liquor. He did have a variety of potions that would help if Black wanted them.

“Two drinks are nothing,” Black shot back as he stood up and led the way out the door. Salazar ran a hand over his face. And there was the impulsiveness that always seemed to run through the veins of Godric’s students. Hopefully nobody would be in the Room.

However, when they arrived in the corridor, Salazar was quick to spot the door already there. He had to wonder who was there as it was still a few hours before he planned to have lunch with the group. Black did not seem to notice, or even care, that the Room was already occupied. He was the first to reach the door and open it up. Salazar quickly entered behind him.

Black had stopped not too far in and Salazar immediately knew why. For a brief moment, part of him felt like he had suddenly been transported to Fyrkat. They appeared to stand upon one of the cliffs that overlooked the fjord. It never ceased to take his breath away even if he knew it was all an illusion. For one, this illusion was of Fyrkat in summer and it was definitely winter in the real world. “Where the hell are we?” Black muttered, though Salazar caught it.

“Fyrkat,” Salazar said as he passed Black. “And if we are seeing this place, then it can only mean that it is Einar that is here.” He led the way down the short path from the cliff and into the edge of the forest that stood there. A cool breeze blew through the vibrant greens of the illusionary trees and Salazar though he could hear the squawk of a raven in the distance. The magical space could only stretch so far, so they would not have to travel far through the forest to find Einar.

As they stepped into a sudden clearing, Salazar smiled when he spotted Einar in the middle of it. The elf had a sword in his hand and he only wore a pair of loose pants. Though he was as slender as any elf, Einar was well built and those muscles now glistened with sweat. Silently, Salazar stepped off to the side to wait until Einar finished his stances. He was well aware that Einar already knew they were there, though he had not acknowledged them.

As Black stopped by his side, Salazar glanced at the older man. “Do you know how to handle a sword, Black?” He asked curiously. Draco had learned the basics of how to fence because of pureblood etiquette or some such tripe, but he wondered if Black had experienced the same.

“Not really,” Black muttered as he watched Einar. “I always skipped out on the lessons my mother tried to force on me. James was pretty decent at it, though. We preferred to duel each other with magic instead.” He briefly looked over to Salazar then. “I’ve seen your group practicing in the early mornings before the sun has even risen.”

Salazar pulled a face as he crossed his arms over his chest. “The winter sun rises late. We have to set up torches to provide us with light,” he grumbled. Black snorted softly in response.

“You’re not so bad, you know. I’m glad I followed my gut,” Black said then, out of the blue. Salazar did not say anything, but he was glad as well. Hopefully it would make it easier for him to one day gather the courage to tell Black the truth. Which he really should do before the man found out another way.

“Herrick,” Einar’s voice suddenly interrupted them. Salazar turned his head to see that Einar had sheathed his sword and now made his way towards them. “Black,” the elf greeted as well. “What brings the two of you here?”

“Wanted somewhere to blow off steam,” Black said, his arms still crossed over his chest. “Didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Einar looked him over before he nodded and turned to Salazar with a raised eyebrow. There were so many questions contained in that single look. “We decided to actually act like adults,” Salazar said simply. “We are both on the same side of this war and our energy would be better spent on other things.”

“Like fighting Deatheaters,” Black interjected. He looked over to Salazar then. “Want to duel me? Just an informal duel. I’ve been curious awhile to see how you stack up against me because I’m a decent dueler.” He gave a cocky little smirk, but Salazar had the feeling that he could actually back up his boasting.

It did not take him long to come to a decision. “I shall take you up on that, though I thought you would want Lupin with you,” he said curiously. He had made known his intention some time earlier about the want to duel Black, though they had not yet made concrete plans.

Black gave a little grunt as he shrugged off his robes. “Yeah, I know I said that before, but this is a bit more impulsive and unplanned,” he said with the beginnings of a grin. “If we enjoy this duel, we can always duel again.”

He could not really argue with that sort of logic and he had wanted the chance to duel the man. So, Salazar untied his cloak and hung it on the branch of a tree. He stretched his arms over his head then and gave a soft groan. “I look forward to it, then,” he said as he turned back around and headed towards the center of the clearing.

From off to the side, Einar picked up his tunic from where it had been neatly folded on a table along with a jug of what was likely water. “If I see you attempt any wandless magic, Herrick, I will put an abrupt stop to the duel,” the elf threatened as he poured some of the water into a copper cup. Salazar shivered a little bit at the tone, well aware that Einar would keep to his word.

“You can do wandless magic?” Black interrupted.

With a soft sigh, Salazar rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and held out his arms. “You saw these before, remember? The runes give me some command over wandless magic,” he explained. “However, I recently put stress on the bindings and they need to be reapplied before I can use them or else I run the risk of burning them out. Painfully.”

“Which will do damage to your magical pathways and render you nearly incapable of natural magic more powerful than the simplest of tasks,” Einar said before he drained the rest of his water from his cup. “And you forgot to mention it was reckless stress that you put on those bindings.”

“Yes, quite,” Salazar muttered as he pulled up his hair and secured it into a loose bun high up on the back of his head. Einar was not about to forgive him anytime soon it seemed. With hindsight being what it was, Salazar could not say that he disagreed with the sentiment.

Black joined Salazar in the center of the clearing as he shook his head, his shaggy hair loose about his head. “Never thought that you’d be called reckless,” he quipped as he drew his wand.

Salazar drew his own wand as well as he faced Black. “No man is infallible,” he shot back as he took his stance. “Now, I think we can agree to not use anything that has no counter or is permanently maiming.”

“Agreed. And no dark magic,” Black said as he took his own pose.

That went without saying, of course, but Salazar nodded his agreement. “Einar? Count us down?”

As soon as Einar called the beginning of the match, Salazar brought his wand down sharply. His eyes tracked Black’s wand movements, so he was reasonably sure what the man was about to cast. In response, he jabbed his wand towards the ground and then flicked it upward. “Àrdachadh talmhainn,” he commanded firmly. A wall of hard packed dirt immediately shot up and absorbed the electric blue magic that impacted against it before it dissolved back into the ground. Salazar had already moved on.

“Ignis flagellum!”

Well, shit. Salazar quickly ducked with a knee to the dirt, beneath the stream of fire that snaked over the clearing. “Aqua explosio!” He responded with a jab of his wand. Water burst forth and quenched the flames, though the explosion of water droplets impacted harmlessly against a hastily risen shield.

“Gaoth bhuain,” Salazar hissed out as he slashed his wand upward and then down. The leaves on the trees around them danced in the sudden burst of wind as two blades of air raced towards Black.

The wizard quickly dropped to the ground in reaction so that the wind blades flew harmlessly over his head. He barely paused as he rolled out of the way of a hex that fizzled out as it impacted against the ground. He called out another spell before he was even on his feet again so Salazar had to dance out of the way of it and then bring up a shield to block the violet jinx that followed behind it.

Back and forth they traded spellfire as they used physical shields along with magical ones to protect themselves. Neither stopped moving as they circled around each other. Salazar found that he enjoyed himself and it was almost like he dueled Godric again. Black was a good match for him and kept him on his toes. The other wizard also seemed to enjoy himself as well as he had a wild grin on his face. Salazar could tell that Black had started to tire though. He himself panted heavily as he sucked in air to keep himself moving, most spells nonverbal by now. He knew he was close to his limit, but he could also see the cracks that had started in Black’s guard. He pressed them, watched them start to crumble.

Yet, instincts long ingrained in him had Salazar shoving his wand back into its holster and wrapping his hand around the hilt of his ever present sword. He drew it in a single fluid motion to meet the downward strike from Einar. The swords slid together before Salazar broke away as he panted heavily all the while. When he finally came back to himself, he frowned at Einar. “What was that? Is it your intention to kill me now?”

“You forget yourself, Herrick,” the elf said gravely. “You do not spar with your Gryffindor, who knows you and how to counter you. I am merely putting a stop to this spar before you both take it too far. At least you know how to counter my blade.” The elf had switched to English for his last comment, for Black’s benefit. “I think that is quite enough from the both of you as at least one of you was about to end up in the infirmary.”

“You should fight both of us at once next time, Herrick!” The call from the treeline startled Salazar as he turned to find that the rest of the group had assembled at some point or another. He had not realized they had all arrived. It was Fred and George who were the ones who had called out to him.

Salazar let out a soft groan and sheathed his sword. Black appeared by his side then, the older wizard’s breath ragged. “We’re two stubborn bastards,” the man grunted as he sheathed his wand and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “But you gave me a good run. And your friend’s right about one of us about to end up in the infirmary. Probably would be me in all honestly.” He smirked a bit as he looked up at Salazar, who stood at roughly the same height as him. “Why are they all here?” He was mostly civil with a majority of the group lately, though his gaze had daggers as he spotted Fenrir amongst the gathered wizards.

“We made prior arrangements to have lunch together,” Salazar said as he picked up his cloak. As he did, the Room shimmered around them before it settled on their customary meeting place with its central hearth and long wooden table.

Black hummed as he looked over the group as they found seats and he ignored the looks they sent him. “You have quite the unusual group,” he commented as he picked up his robes from off a hook.

“Picked each one up like strays,” Salazar deadpanned, though he let himself smirk a little when the Weasley twins protested loudly.

The comment did pull a snort from Black though before he held a hand out to Salazar. “I… enjoyed our duel,” he said as he switched subjects. “You’re looking better as well, which I’m glad to see. I’ll get out of your hair though as I’m not sure I’m really wanted here by all of your crew.”

As he took Black’s hand, Salazar shook it firmly. “They would allow you to stay if I wanted it, but we might bore you with our conversation,” he said. “I enjoyed our duel as well, though perhaps we can leave the firewhiskey far removed from dueling next time.” Black snickered in response before he turned and left.

With Black gone, Salazar approached the table and greeted each person. He called for a house elf then and requested their lunch be sent to the Room before he took a seat at the table. Hermione was immediately at his side. “How did it go?” She demanded instantly.

Amused, Salazar leaned against the table. “It went well. I will tell you the details over our meal,” he promised. “But have some patience, my friend.” Hermione rolled her eyes, but relented. Instead, she praised him over the portion of the duel she had watched. She had questions for some of his spells in particular as she wanted to know about them more in detail. Salazar was all too happy to indulge her. And not just because he would never hear the end of it otherwise.

When the food finally arrived a short time later, Salazar gathered a plate for himself and then looked over the group. His friends. They were his friends, as scary of a word as it was. “I know everyone who was not on the expedition is on the edge of their seats,” he said in amusement as he tore off a piece of roasted chicken. “We will tell the tale of our journey from start to finish, but before that I will give away the ending to say that we have truly found Tyrfing. It is currently in a safe place for temporary safekeeping for now, though I will move it soon to a better place to keep it hidden.” It was currently still in his chambers under a number of wards while Eolas stood guard from the shadows.

At his announcement, more than one of his friends cheered. The Weasley twins were the loudest of all, but their excitement was echoed throughout the room. Both Draco and Blaise looked more relieved than they did excited, but Salazar could understand completely. Especially Draco, who knew the Dark Lord’s whims better than the rest of them.

As they started in on their meal, Bill was the one to start the story while the rest of the expedition members took turns to tell the story. Hermione had looked eager at the mention of Salazar’s spellsinging, but Einar had shut that down very quickly. Salazar cleared his throat and distracted Hermione with safer topics.

Once the meal was over, the dishes were cleared away and they all remained at the table as they sipped at drinks. The entirety of the story had been told, so they had now broken into a few smaller groups to discuss what had happened.

“That is such a load off,” a voice eventually rang over the rest. Most broke off their conversations to look at Charlie, who had been the one to speak. “We do not have to worry about Tyrfing any longer. How are we on the horcruxes then?”

Hermione was the one to take over as she stood up and requested the chalkboard from the Room. “Okay. So, we are fairly certain that there are seven horcruxes,” she reminded everyone. Salazar hid his smile behind his goblet at the witch’s lecturing tone. She made a fine teacher, though he thought her talents were a bit wasted in a classroom. With her stubbornness, she would do well as a politician. She certainly had the brains and drive for it, though something like that could only come about if they could defeat the Dark Lord for good.

“The ones we are aware of are Slytherin’s locket, the piece in Herrick, Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s diadem, Nagini, the Gaunt ring, and Riddle’s diary. Of those seven, four of them have been successfully destroyed or handed off to Hel so are no longer a concern. Nagini we know never leaves the Dark Lord’s side because he suddenly can’t seem to communicate with her like he used to for some reason, so can’t use her for missions. The Cup is likely in Bellatrix LeStrange’s possession, though we have not managed to pinpoint the exact location just yet,” she laid out, though very little of the information was new to any of the group.

With a turn, Hermione sought out Draco. She gave him a small smile. “You’ve been hunting the Diadem. How does it go?”

As all eyes turned to him, Draco set his goblet down and leaned back some. “I have not found the artifact yet,” he admitted. “I have not had the chance to search lately, though I intend on putting in some time for the search after the rest of you depart from the Room today.”

“We’ll stay behind to help!” The Weasley twins called out with wide grins. At their declaration, a light blush coloured Draco’s pale cheeks. Salazar watched the exchange with interest, but soon turned his gaze away from them to the assembled group in general.

“I do have an idea on how to possibly procure the Cup,” he said. “However, I am not ready to speak of the details just yet.” He had wondered on the possibility of capturing Bellatrix LeStrange as a prisoner, but needed to iron out a number of the details before he could present it as a viable idea.

Draco leaned his arms on the table and looked down at his cup. “I still volunteer to kill Nagini,” he said quietly, but his voice carried enough in the silent group. “We all know that there will be one final battle eventually, whether or not we find Potter alive. Since the Dark Lord no longer seems able to communicate to his serpent, he is not likely to bring her with him to the battle. I would have expected him to bring her to keep up appearances, but if she is a horcrux then he will not bring her since she’ll only be in more danger.”

The Weasley twins looked ready to protest, but Salazar held up his hand to stop them. “As risky as the notion is, it might be our only opportunity. However, we will come up with a plan and set up contingencies,” he said firmly. He thought he had an idea for that too, but that was only going to give him more work. He had to think about the problem, but for now he wanted Draco to focus on his search for the diadem. “Until then, Draco, continue with your search for the diadem. I know you must be close.”

Both Fred and George did not seem happy with Salazar’s agreement, but thankfully they did not say anything. Instead, the conversation seemed to wind down now and Bill stood up. “I need to get back to Fleur,” he said as he excused himself first. After he had left, the others started to trickle out as well as they left in groups or by themselves. It was as Hermione stood up that Salazar moved.

“Hermione,” Salazar said as he stood up as he stopped the woman before she could leave. “Would you come down to my office with me?” He requested with a little smile.

The witch gave him a surprised look for a fraction of a second before she gave him a broad smile and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “Of course, Herrick! Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to discuss something with you,” Salazar responded as he made a motion with his hand. “Just something personal.” She nodded and followed after him, a curious smile on her face. As they made their way down to the dungeons, Hermione restarted their conversation about the spells that Salazar had used in their duel. She did also ask about the spellsinging again as well, though Salazar kept his answers somewhat vague.

When they reached his office, Salazar offered Hermione a seat and then sat across from her in a chair. Nervousness bubbled in his belly, but he had to draw on what courage he could. “What did you want to talk about, Herrick?” Hermione interrupted Salazar’s thoughts, which made him flinch a little in surprise. Hermione noticed, of course. “Is everything okay?”

A little embarrassed, Salazar cleared his throat. This was not like him. “Forgive me. I will admit that I am a little worried,” he said softly.

“Worried? What for?” Hermione looked concerned now as she moved to the edge of her seat. Her dark eyes were bright with worry as she reached out and placed a hand over Salazar’s. “Herrick? What’s going on?”

Salazar took a breath to ground himself before he started to speak. “I am worried how you might react, though I hope you will hear me out.” He paused a moment and then lowered his eyes to fix his gaze on Hermione’s hand atop of his. He was not sure he could watch Hermione’s expression. “Do you remember Little Hangleton? When you said I could come to you when I was ready, to answer your questions? I am ready now.” Hermione did not say anything, so Salazar continued.

“Remember our first discussion of horcruxes? When I recounted my time in Helheim?” Hermione whispered acknowledgment, but otherwise waited for Salazar to continue. “I mentioned that I had been in a magical accident some ten years ago and I do not remember anything before my fifteenth year. All of this was true. However, memories have begun to come back to me and I do know who I used to be,” he began.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Herrick!” Hermione said as she squeezed Salazar’s hand.

She seemed to be genuinely happy with the news, enough that it made him smile. “Yes, I would suppose. Though it does come with its own complications.” He raised his eyes to meet Hermione’s then. “You need to promise me that you will keep all of this quiet. I cannot have this get out until I am ready.” The witch sobered and nodded her head seriously as she squeezed Salazar’s hand again. “Thank you,” he whispered.

After another moment of brief silence, Salazar continued. “Truthfully, the magical accident sent me far into the past. With no recollection of my past at the time, I took on a new name and built a new life. I spent ten years of my life there until it all fell apart again.” He dropped his eyes again as he thought about those events. “After another magical incident, I was sent back to my original timeline even though five years have only passed here since I first disappeared.”

“You’re Harry, aren’t you?” Hermione’s voice was a whisper. “You’re Harry.”

Unable to help himself, Salazar gave a small laugh. “I always thought you were the cleverest of all of us,” he said softly. “Yes. I was Harry Potter.”

The next moment, he suddenly found himself with a faceful of flyaway hair and an armful of Hermione’s trembling form. “I… I knew it. I think I knew it for awhile. Oh, Harry.”

Salazar had stiffened at the hug at first, but then he wrapped his arms around Hermione and held her close as he tried to comfort her. “I am sorry that it took me so long to say anything,” he told her quietly. “I am still piercing my memories together and I am not the same Harry that you remember.”

“I don’t care,” Hermione muttered as she pulled back and rubbed at her eyes. “I don’t care if you’re different. You are still Harry. You are still my friend even as you are now.” She gave a watery laugh then. “Oh, but look at you. I can see where we were fooled.” She touched the scar on his cheek gently. “This covers that famous lightning bolt scar and you do look so much different without those ridiculous glasses. And you’ve grown from that awkward, gangly teenager I remember. We always seem to remember people how we last saw them, don’t we?”

After a huffed laugh of agreement, Salazar pulled away from Hermione. She returned to her seat on the couch and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes. “You have grown into a wonderful young woman as well, Hermione,” he told her gently. “My memories of your friendship are faded at best, but I do know that you were very dear to me.”

“Oh, posh,” Hermione said with a blush, but she still gave him a smile. “Even though you have changed so much, you are still a dear friend to me. Though it is quite strange to see you as a Slytherin! How far back did you go, Harry?”

Salazar gave a shake of his head. “Please, call me Herrick.” He wondered if he should tell her his other secret. It barely took him half a moment to decide that the idea was ridiculous. Hermione had been one of his most trusted friends while at Hogwarts as Harry Potter and she had remained by his side the entire time, even through petty squabbles. Of course he could tell her. “I was sent back just over one thousand years into the past.”

At that proclamation, Hermione’s eyes grew wide and she leaned forward eagerly. “Did you attend Hogwarts? Did you meet the Founders?”

He could only laugh at her enthusiasm as he leaned back in his chair. “No, I did not attend Hogwarts. Instead, I was in my early twenties when I saw Hogwarts built. Rowena, Helga, and Godric were very dear friends.”

“But not Slytherin?” Hermione looked confused for a long moment, though something seemed to spark in her eyes when Salazar said nothing and only a small smirk played about his lips. “No way,” she breathed out. “You were Salazar Slytherin?” She broke down into near hysterical giggles, bent over her knees. “Oh, the irony!” She managed to gasp out through her laughter. “Five years ago, I would have said there was no possible way!”

Salazar chuckled as he watched Hermione. “When one is thrown into the 980s with no memory and no knowledge of the local language, one tends to learn how to play things close to the chest. Among other things.”

“Incredible,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “Do the others know?”

What a complex question to answer. “Fred and George were the first to find out,” he told her. “With the Marauder’s Map, of course.”

“Figures they would have it back in their possession,” Hermione muttered before she waved her hand. “Sorry, do go on.”

“Fred and George knew I am Salazar because of the Map, though they were also the firsts to realize I was once Harry,” he continued with a soft laugh. “Of the others, most of them know that I was once Harry Potter, though many of them are also now aware that I am Salazar. Most of them have either figured it out on their own, or have been told out of necessity for some reason or another. Draco is the only one who is still completely unaware as far as I know.”

The last comment pulled a large snort from Hermione. “Oh, yes, he probably is unaware. If he knew, I do not think he would act quite the same towards you. Will you let him know?”

“Eventually,” Salazar responded with a soft sigh. “Luna has said that the truth will come out. Though I have tried to reveal the secrets of my identity tactfully, it is hard to say when it all will be revealed.”

Hermione nodded her understanding before she reached out to place a hand on Salazar’s knee. “Will you tell Ron?”

That was an easy question to answer. “I have no plans to,” Salazar said. “Though I recognize that he was my first friend, our paths have far diverged. I do not know if there is any way we can really reconcile. My only hope is that we can remain civil once everything is said and done.”

Luckily, Hermione did not seem to judge him for his response. Instead, she gave a nod in understanding before she gently squeezed his knee. “You should tell Sirius,” she whispered gently. “Before he finds out another way, you should be the one to tell him. I know that things have been rough with him since you returned, but it looks like you are both getting along better now.”

“I know,” Salazar said and then trailed off. He placed his hand over Hermione’s before he breathed out a heavy sigh. “I know. However, I cannot seem to gather my courage to do so and I wanted to tell you first.”

“Would it help if I was there?”

Salazar shook his head in response. “I do not know. Yes, maybe. But, perhaps, this is something I need to do on my own.” He paused before he gently squeezed her hand. “I will tell him soon.”

With that statement, Hermione gave a nod before she straightened in her seat. “Good. Now, tell me about the other Founders! Tell me everything!” Salazar laughed in response and started in on his tale of the past ten years he was gone. He could not actually tell her everything, but he did confide in her many things. He also promised to introduce her to his friends on the next Samhainn as their spirits were likely to visit again.

After their conversation, Hermione found every moment she could to visit with Salazar and catch up with him. She had to return to classes as Professor Snape’s assistant as the students returned to their lessons, but she would often come find him at breaks or after classes were done for the day. Salazar could not blame Hermione for her eagerness, though she had started to nag him on the occasion. She strongly believed he should tell Black, but he was just not ready. Luckily, she could be easily distracted. Especially by Tyrfing, though he had plans to move it soon.

Then, a few days later, Salazar also slipped out by himself in the dead of night. The castle was quiet as he held the containment box in his arms and slipped further into the deepest corners of the dungeon. When he came to a blank wall, Salazar placed one hand on the cold stone and closed his eyes. “Hogwarts, my dear,”  he whispered to her. “I need for you to construct a vault for me. Just an empty room that needs to be no bigger than a broom closet.”

Eager to help, Hogwarts rose up to answer so there was a soft rumble before the stones of the wall started to shift and turn away to create an archway with a small room beyond. Salazar carefully set the containment crate down in the center of the room and then slipped his wand into his hand. He carefully wove some proximity wards around the crate, to alert him in case anyone found the sword. With that completely, he stepped from the room. The stones shifted and turned to seal the room off once more.

With a blank span of wall before him, Salazar removed a small knife from his pouch and painstakingly etched a small symbol into the stone. It would mark where the sword was kept safe, though hopefully no one would be able to get through to it. Satisfied, Salazar thanked Hogwarts and then turned away to retreat back to his rooms.

Then, days later on Saturday morning of the 13th, Salazar had just sat down to breakfast with Luna and Blaise when Troels suddenly dropped down onto the table in front of him with a squawk. The raven had come in with the post owls and he did have a small scroll of his own tied to his leg. As Salazar removed the scroll, Luna cooed over the bird and offered him some blueberries off of her plate. He spared them an amused look before he unrolled the small scroll.

"Hope you are prepared for us, dear Herrick. We have arrived at the last shipping Nexus that will take us to the Hogwarts’ lake. See you soon!"

The note was short and unsigned, but it got the message across perfectly. Salazar tucked the note away and turned back to his breakfast. “Taking Troels’ flight into account, I would say that Hilde will be here within the next couple of hours.”

“Well, shit,” Blaise muttered as he set down his goblet. “Very little notice for the morning.” He shook his head as he looked down at the raven that still proudly stood in front of Luna as he primly accepted blueberries from the blonde seer. He smirked a bit and picked his fork up. “Well, you will want to alert the Headmaster, won’t you? I can help let the others know so we can gather up a welcoming party." Salazar nodded his head thanks, but focused on his breakfast.

A couple of hours later, Salazar stood on the shore of the loch with Troels on his shoulder. Dumbledore had been alerted and stood close by, but Salazar was surrounded by his friends. Hati and Skoll in particular stood on either side of him. In the distance, he could see the colourful sails of three Snekkja as they suddenly rose from the waters of the loch like avenging sea serpents. The Snekkja was a ship that was built so light and sleek that it had no need of ports as it could simply be beached upon the shore. It was the Drakkar ships that had the heads of dragons or sea serpents carved at their bow, but the three Snekkja that sailed towards them had painted roaring dragons that practically leaped from their sails. Even without the carved monster at their bow, they still seemed to part the waves and rise from the depths like ferocious beasts.

“Bloody hell,” Salazar heard someone exclaim behind him. He smiled to himself, but did not look back to check who it was. He thought it might have been either Fred or George.

From beside him, Hati shifted some as he watched the ship. “There are only three ships,” he observed.

“Three ships are enough,” Salazar replied with a smile. “Those are Snekkja and are each capable of carrying a crew of up to forty-one. If the ships are at capacity, then that will be more than enough.”

“That is over one hundred warriors!” Hermione exclaimed with awe, her eyes wide and eager.

Salazar laughed softly and gave a nod. “Yes,” he agreed simply. He was glad that they had decided to prepare the larger clearing for the Northmen to set up their tents. Hilde had not kidded when she said she would gather a warband. This was a proper force to be reckoned with and he was eager to fight alongside them.

The ships sailed quickly for shore and Salazar could eventually hear the commands that were shouted above the sound of the waves. As they slid proudly onto the beach, Hilde was the first to vault off of the ship with a shield in hand. The warriors who had sailed with her were not far behind as their heavy footfalls landed with loud splashes in the shallow water.

As they walked towards their small group, Salazar spread out his hands in a welcoming gesture. “Hail and welcome my brothers and sisters!” He greeted them, amused to see that they had decided to really dress up. They were fully suited for battle in their leather armour and painted faces. Even sweet Hilde looked fierce with the dark kohl about her eyes and runes painted on her cheek. But as she stepped in close, her eyes sparkled within her otherwise stony expression.

“Brother!” A man called to him from over Hilde’s shoulder and Salazar was quick to recognize Eirik.

Salazar stepped up and greeted Hilde first as she stood at the forefront. He grasped her forearm and gave her a little smile. “I am so glad to see you, sister,” he told her quietly. “Your arrival brings me strength for the battles ahead.” Troels hopped from his shoulder and landed happily on the young woman’s instead.

Hilde gave Salazar a little smile in return and squeezed his forearm. “The first time I saw you, I knew there was no other place I would rather be than fighting by your side. You need our help, so we came to offer our aid.” She released his arm then so Eirik could step forward and greet Salazar as well.

As Eirik stepped back, Dumbledore suddenly appeared next to them and cleared his throat. “Introductions if you would, Herrick?”

“Ah, forgive me for my oversight, Headmaster. This is Hilde and her father Eirik,” he introduced before he turned to the father daughter pair. “My friends, this is the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He is Professor Albus Dumbledore.” He paused then before he gave a small frown. “Forgive me, but do either of you know how to speak English?”

Luckily, both nodded. “We have had dealings with English wizards before,” Eirik said. His accent was heavy, but at least there would be no barrier in language for most of the English mages.

“That is wonderful to hear,” Dumbledore spoke up. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Eirik. Miss Hilde.”

Salazar had to hold back a snort at the way that Hilde’s nose scrunched up in displeasure. “Please, just Eirik will be enough, Headmaster,” Eirik said with just a hint of exasperation that was nearly hidden in his tone. Salazar fought harder not to laugh.

“Yes, very well, Eirik,” the headmaster relented. “Welcome to Hogwarts and thank you for your aid against Riddle.”

“The Dark Lord,” Salazar explained quickly at the confusion that passed over the faces of the Northmen. “His name was once Tom Riddle.”

The Headmaster nodded in agreement. “Yes, of course. My apologies for the confusion. Again, welcome to Hogwarts. Herrick and his companions have prepared a place for you to set up camp. I am appreciative of your support, but I would like to instill the importance of the fact that this is a school and there are many children here. I have come to the decision that the castle itself is off limits for now so that there will not be disruptions to their classes.” He gave them a smile that Salazar thought was far too innocent in its appearance. The old man was laying the grandfatherly act on thick, a stark contrast to his actual words.

“With that said,” the old wizard continued, “I will leave you to the care of Herrick so you can settle in on the grounds. A good day to you all.” Dumbledore gave them another smile that was much too bright before he retreated to the castle. Salazar was honestly glad to see him go, his presence rather awkward.

After a small sigh, Salazar turned back to the assembled warriors and looked over their barely hidden curiosity. “You all have traveled such a long way, so let me extend to you the hospitality that you deserve,” he called out as he caught their attention. “Let me show you what we have prepared for you, then we can help to unload the ships and set up your camp.”

Those amongst his friends that did not speak Old Norse had been outfitted with bracelets that Salazar had created with help from Hermione. They contained temporary translation charms to help breach the language barrier when necessary. His friends had been happy to introduce themselves as they mingled with warriors. Skoll and Hati had been particularly excited to find a small band of úlfhéðnar warriors where they had immediately dragged both their father and Blaise into the fray. Fenrir had even seemed to know a few of the wolf warriors while Blaise had appeared a little overwhelmed to be suddenly surrounded by wolves like him.

As the camp was set up, it was loud and there was a lot of laughter. Salazar would occasionally see Luna as she seemed to flit amongst the chaos like a fae. Hermione had ended up with a small band of shieldmaidens, utterly curious about them. She had promised to keep her questions to a minimum, but the women around her seemed to be more than happy to answer whatever she asked.

Einar knew most of the warriors as Fyrkat had been his home once and he had often returned there over the years to visit. Charlie was with him once more to help set up tents and greet warriors that Einar introduced to him. As far as Salazar was aware, Bill was down by the ships as he helped to unload the crates and other supplies that the warriors had brought with them. Fred and George had volunteered to help ferry items from the ships to the camp after Salazar made them promise not to pull any pranks.

Draco had been unable to come as he had been pulled away in the early morning to attend a meeting with a certain madman. Salazar had not heard anything about it, so he assumed that no news was better than bad news. Draco’s amulet also had not activated, so the man was alive at the very least. He tried to not let his worry distract him, which was a funny notion in some ways. Who would have thought that he, formerly Harry Potter, would worry over Draco Malfoy?

“I do not know about that Dumbledore,” Hilde suddenly grumbled from beside him. Salazar blinked out of his thoughts and looked down at the young woman. She, like many of the others, had cleaned her face of most of the battle paint that she had worn. When asked about it, she had confessed to Salazar that they had worn the paint to leave a big first impression on the English wizards. Salazar thought it had been very successful, though he was glad that the úlfhéðnar had not set foot on land in their wolven forms as that might have been a shock too much. It had been a long time since English wizards had seen a true Viking warband after all.

After he had chuckled softly, Salazar crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever is on your mind, I would agree with you,” he told her. With them all here on Hogwarts’ grounds, he finally felt complete in a way. Hogwarts had been his first true home as both Harry and as Salazar. Salazar had resonated with the Northern community, so to have the people here on the site of his home he felt like both parts of himself had come together. There were still pieces that were missing, but it was complete enough that he felt settled in a way that he had not in a long time.

Hilde looked up at Salazar then and gave him a smile. “I suppose he likes to think that he is protecting the children of the school, but somehow I doubt that it is really all of it. Not that it matters,” she said as she looked away again and out at the chaos of activity. “We are lucky enough we have been allowed on the grounds, after all. Our two peoples have a long history of tension, though no real conflicts have arisen in a very long time from what I understand. Maybe we can finally put it all to rest as we fight against a common enemy.” She shook her head and then gave Salazar a bright grin, one he recognized from when he had first met her. Her blonde hair, too, gleamed in the winter sun. “But I do not want to discuss that. It is good to see you again, Herrick, and I do not want to sully our reunion. Though I will remind you that you owe me a fight.”

At her announcement, Salazar laughed and looked out over the rising camp. “Yes, I suppose that I do. But before then, we have a camp to build first.” He gave Hilde a quick grin before he stepped into the flow of the camp. There was magic all around him as it helped with their labour, but many of them used the power of their own hands. Salazar was more than happy to join in as he helped to raise tents or dig firepits.

Eventually, the last of the construction was done. Salazar had lost Hilde to the chaos at some point as he helped to raise the central tent. Unlike most of the tents that made up the camp, this one was to be used as a gathering hall so it was a wizarding space. Salazar entered it alone once they had finished with its construction. He smiled as he stepped into a wooden hall, not unlike the facade they used occasionally in the Room. There were carved wooden beams and decorated round shields on the walls. The central hearth was unlit for the moment.

As he stepped over to the raised pit, Salazar called for a house elf. When the creature popped up, he turned to him and then crouched down. “The camp is finished being set up, so can you and your fellows bring the food you prepared for us? You can set everything up here.” The little elf gave a nod that made his ears flop back and forth before he disappeared with a small pop. It did not take long for several house elves to pop back in with platters laden with food. Salazar left them to it as he exited the tent. It had taken some effort to negotiate the supplies needed for the feast, but Salazar had been able to pull it together with some help from the others.

Salazar had been able to convince the Headmaster to let him take the Greybacks off of the school grounds so they could go hunt just after breakfast. Though he did not have near the stamina as the werewolves, he enjoyed the hunt in his animagus form. The transformation had started to come easier, though he still took time and concentration to complete it. He used it to hunt, to run with the other wolves. They had managed to take down a couple of red deer and a couple of wild boar. The boar were different from the boar that Salazar had once hunted, but meat was meat.

Einar had helped source the seasonal vegetables from local farmers in the area so they would not have to take from the stores at Hogwarts. Everything was given to the Hogwarts house elves who had prepared the food for them, which they had been more than happy to do. It was the Weasley twins then that had managed to get their hands on barrels of alcohol through the owner of the Hog’s Head Inn in Hogsmeade. Food and drink, along with good company. It was all that was needed to equal a feast they would remember for a long time.

To feast, however, Salazar needed to call everyone to the tent hall. So, he unsheathed his wand and concentrated on what he wanted. “Teachdaire,” he whispered. An unearthly blue raven materialized before him as it trailed what appeared like smoke from its outstretched wingtips. If he concentrated, Salazar could see through the magical construct. “Come, my brothers and sisters. We have prepared a welcome for you in the hall,” he said before he sent the raven off. It soared through the rows of tents as it relayed his message.

When it returned to him, Salazar dismissed it. It was not long after that the warriors started to gather. Salazar greeted each one of them as he stood near the door. He invited each man and woman inside, bade them to find a seat. His friends, too, trickled in alongside the Northmen and Salazar was glad to see that they all seemed to get along well.

Once the last of the warriors had entered the hall, Salazar entered in behind them and found an empty seat at the head of one of the tables. Luna had saved him a seat, the rest of his friends all intermingled with other groups. The seer gave him a wink and picked up her copper cup, though she did not take a sip. Instead, she waited for the impromptu speech that Salazar had decided. He picked up his own cup as he looked over the hoard of witches and wizards.

“Welcome, my brothers and sisters,” Salazar greeted as he projected his voice to be heard over the low roar of the central hearth and the scattered conversation. The hall quickly quieted as their attention turned to Salazar. “Though this is technically not my hall,” he started and earned a ripple of laughter from throughout the hall. “Yes, semantics. This is not my hall and it is not my table at which I have invited you to dine. However Hogwarts and her grounds are my home, so I welcome you here and wish to share in our bounty with you all.” He raised up his cup then. “Eat well! Drink well! Today we indulge in the company of our fellows! Skål!”

“Skål!” The cheer echoed about the hall before Salazar took his seat. Immediately, conversation resumed and it was next the sound of laughter that erupted throughout the hall. It was raucous as warriors fought to be heard over each other, but Salazar would not have it any other way. The Hogwarts feasts had been loud in their own ways and even their secret rituals had a certain level of energy that hovered above calm. But none of these came close to the chaos that was a Viking feast. Mead and beer flowed easily, while good food was plentiful.

The feasts at Hogwarts in this time had been awash with dark colours as the students wore their black robes. Even the refugees who dined in the Hall seemed to prefer darker colours in black, deep reds, deep blues, deep greens. In this hall, there was a stark difference as tunics were brightly coloured in rich hues and colourful embroidery as they had long removed their armour after their arrival on the shore. Even their hair was bright in their elaborate braids as it ranged from bright reds and shining blondes, to gleaming chestnuts and midnight blacks. Somehow, the Weasley men had disappeared into the sea of colour where else they had often stood out.

“You did well,” Luna suddenly said from next to him as she selected a piece of venison from her plate. “You have your army and they will serve you well in more than just the Dark Lord’s final battle.” She shared with him a smile that was full of secrets that Salazar could barely begin to decipher. “Our cast of characters is nearly complete.”

Salazar breathed out a sigh of exasperation and shook his head. “No, absolutely not,” he told her. “I will not be pulled into anything more right now. I do not want to even think about what the future might bring. For now, I want to enjoy the good company.” Luckily, Luna only gave him a knowing smile before she turned to the man beside her and beguiled him with fanciful stories of creatures that Salazar had never heard of before that moment.

As the last of the food was eaten, the tables were moved to the sides and instruments were brought out. It was a rough sort of music of popular ditties, but that did not seem to matter. Beer and mead still flowed plentiful as some started to dance and others enthralled those around them with tales. As Salazar stood off to the side to watch, Fred and George suddenly appeared with mischief in their eyes. He could not fend them off as they dragged him into a dance.

The celebration lasted long into the night even though they had first sat down together around midday. More food had been brought at some point to feed them all, though Salazar honestly could not pinpoint when that had occurred. He had indulged in more than enough drink himself, so his memory could not be considered entirely reliable. Eventually, he had found himself a bed on the top of a cleared table along with a blanket offered by a man that he could not name. Many of the others had trickled out to their tents or had found spots in the hall to sleep. Warm and content, Salazar drifted off into sleep.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

The celebration lasted long into the night even though they had first sat down together around midday. More food had been brought at some point to feed them all, though Salazar honestly could not pinpoint when that had occurred. He had indulged in more than enough drink himself, so his memory could not be considered entirely reliable. Eventually, he had found himself a bed on the top of a cleared table along with a blanket offered by a man that he could not name. Many of the others had trickled out to their tents or had found spots in the hall to sleep. Warm and content, Salazar drifted off into sleep.

Chapter Twenty

The next morning came far too early in Salazar’s opinion, but it was the quiet movement of others around him that first roused him. The thundering beat of a drum contained within his head was what kept him from the return to sweet release of sleep. He felt as if death had come for him and that he laid on a storm ensnared ship instead of the solid wood table beneath him. His stomach rolled much like that imaginary storm, though his body ached as if he had come out on the losing end of a match against a jotunn.

“I do not think I have ever seen you look so terrible, Herrick. Just how much did you drink last night?” A voice that was much too loud to his sensitive ears startled Salazar.

The wizard jolted in his surprise before he groaned and pressed both of his hands against his face. “Shut up, you bothersome wolf.” The voice was either Hati or Skoll, but Salazar did not care to check. “You and your immunity to the effects of mead. I swear you both had twice as much as I and you sound far too cheerful.”

A cool vial was suddenly pressed against his arm, which made Salazar jump again as he had not sensed the Greyback move. “Insult me too much and I won’t give you the hangover potion,” the wolf said lightly.

Though he would have liked to snatch the vial away before it could be hidden from him, Salazar did not dare move too suddenly. “A hangover potion. Is that what they call it now?” He muttered before he slowly pulled his hands away from his face. He squinted in the dim firelight to recognize Skoll’s face. “Fine, I surrender. Oh, wonderful and gracious…” He trailed off when Skoll snorted and shoved the vial in his face.

“Oh, shove it and just drink the potion. Might want to clean up a bit too. Black was looking for ya,” Skoll said as he turned and started to walk away. “Some of the others have already gotten up, so you can probably follow your nose to find food.”

Salazar only gave a soft groan and pressed the cool vial against his forehead. He laid there for a long moment before he carefully eased himself up, though it was nearly a mistake as he struggled against his body’s response to the movement. The moment he felt safe enough to move again, he uncorked the vial that Skoll had given him and gave a tentative sniff. To which, he immediately recognized a faint whiff of ginger. There were other scents there as well, but his brain was far too muddled to puzzle them out. He recognized the scent of the potion regardless and he did trust Skoll, so he knocked back the potion with only a faint grimace.

Almost immediately, his symptoms started to fade away. It was still several minutes though before Salazar felt well enough to slide off the table. He slipped his wand from its holster then and cast a couple of spells that would help to freshen him up long enough to survive until he could get to his shower. He went then in search of some food to appease his empty stomach and the hollowness it felt like was there.

As he exited the tent hall, Salazar was greeted by the barely risen winter sun. That meant it was past eight o’clock and still far too early in the morning to be awake after the night he had enjoyed. It seemed many of his fellows agreed with the few glares he caught that were aimed towards the sky. The camp itself seemed muted in a way as it slowly roused from its alcohol induced slumber. Some looked more awake than others, fires built up with tripods set up over them to support bubbling cauldrons or suspended grills filled with sizzling meats.

Salazar was invited over to a number of fires, but he declined them gently with the promise that he would take them up on their offers in the future. Eventually, he came upon Hilde and Eirik as they sat around a fire with a couple of others. Eirik was bent over the fire as he poked at whatever he had on the flat grill. “Herrick! Come join us, my friend!” Eirik was the first to spot him as he straightened from his crouch next to the fire.

As he decided to take them up on their offer, Salazar approached and took a seat next to the pair that he had not been introduced to yet. One of the men gave him a grin and offered a rough hewn bowl that was filled with an assortment of foods. “Good morning. You are Herrick, right? I am Gunnarr.”

Salazar gave the man a nod as he accepted the bowl. “Good morning to you, Gunnarr.”

“And I am Orvar,” the man seated on Gunnarr’s other side introduced himself as he gave a little wave. Salazar greeted him in return before he started on the food that had been given to him.

As Eirik joined them again, Orvar grinned and plucked a piece of meat out of his own bowl. “Ah, what a welcoming feast it was, Herrick! I think it will be told to our children’s children for years to come!” There was laughter from the group around the fire, though it was somewhat subdued as no one seemed to want to be too loud.

“You do certainly know how to throw a celebration,” Hilde said with her own bright smile. “If it was not for the úlfhéðnar and their distribution of remedies, I think we might all still be in our blankets as we moan at the sun! I think I have lost a portion of the night, I drank so much.” She moaned out the last part, though her smile had turned playful.

Salazar nodded his head in agreement as he slipped a piece of meat into his mouth. Once he had swallowed, he gave a small smirk. “My last distinct memory is…” He trailed off and shook his head . “Well, honestly, I am not quite sure. I think there might have been someone who bet he could drink more than me, though. After that, absolutely nothing.”

Gunnarr snorted and leaned forward a bit. “My last, quite fuzzy, memory of sometime last night was being dared to down an entire mug of mead in one go. Seemed a good idea at the time.”

“I have no idea what you’re all saying, but I can tell that there was a hell of a party last night,” a voice from behind Salazar said. When the wizard turned around to see who it was, he found Black had appeared. The man looked a little uncomfortable, but relatively relaxed. “Thought I’d come look for you, Evans, since I figured you might be awhile,” the man offered up an explanation. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Eirik was quiet only a moment before he was the first to speak up. “Yes, come join us,” he offered before he stood up and grabbed a bowl. He filled it with food and offered it to Black. “Come sit at our fire and enjoy a meal with us.” At the offer of food, Black looked at the bowl with surprise and he hesitated. Eirik noticed and smiled a little. “To us, hospitality is important. It is honourful to open one’s home to a guest, to offer them both food and drink. This might not be my home, but it is my campfire and I can offer my food. Eat.”

It took a moment longer, but then Black took the bowl and then took a seat next to Orvar. “Thanks,” he said as he looked down at the bowl and then glanced at the others around the fire. “Ah, I’m Sirius Black. I’m… an acquaintance of Evans. Herrick Evans.” He seemed to stumble a bit over what to call Salazar in front of the others.

Salazar decided to put him out of his misery. “You may call me Herrick here,” he invited. “That is how they know me.” Black gave him a nod.

Next to Black then, Orvar gave a grin. “Call me Orvar. This is Gunnarr. He speaks little English, though he understands more. Welcome.” Black nodded to him and nodded to Gunnarr. “So, Sirius Black. Why look for Herrick?”

“Ah, just call me Sirius. You guys do names differently, right? Black is my family name,” Black explained first before he gave a little shrug. “And I’m looking for Herrick for a private matter. Might involve you all too eventually, but I need to discuss something with him first.” He stuffed some food into his mouth before he looked over to Salazar. “I’m not in any hurry to talk to you, though I wanted to do it sooner rather than later. Tonight is the deadline, so to speak.”

Curious about what was so important that Black would search him out, Salazar gave a quick hum of agreement first. “If you want to have a discussion, you are welcome to join me in my office after we finish our meals,” he offered next.

Black nodded his agreement before he turned back to conversation with Orvar and Gunnarr. Orvar spoke enough for the two Northmen, though he did help to translate for Gunnarr when the man needed the aid. Neither Gunnarr nor Black seemed to mind and did not let the language get in the way. As he watched them occasionally, Salazar had to say that he was glad that Black seemed to have found some connection with the Northmen. The more English mages who got along with the Northmen, the easier it would be to fight alongside them.

“I do not think you mentioned Sirius in any of your letters,” Hilde said softly as she offered a wooden cup to Salazar.

Salazar thanked Hilde as he took the cup and gave it a sniff. Some sort of fruity wine, though the alcohol content of it would not be very high. He took a drink before he glanced at Black from the corner of his eye. “We had a rough start,” he admitted. “I still would not count him among one of my friends, but we have come to an understanding.” Salazar paused to take another drink before he set the cup down beside him. “He has been dealt a great deal of loss in this war, yet he keeps fighting.” It did not matter what Black’s reasons were, he still got up and fought no matter how hard it was some days. If nothing else, Salazar respected Black for that.

Next to him, Hilde took a drink from her own cup and then set it aside. “Well, I hope he makes some friends here and he makes it through the war.”

Salazar hummed his agreement before he returned to his meal. Once he had finished it off, he stood to help clean up. Eirik had tried to shoo him off, but Salazar had insisted that he help. “I do not want to be an ungrateful guest at your fire,” he had said, so Eirik grudgingly gave in.

Once it was all cleaned up, Salazar wiped off his hands. “Black, I wanted to check in with a few of the others. You are welcome to join me, or I can meet you on the outskirts of the camp in a few minutes.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Black said before he turned back to his two new friends. Salazar smirked a little to himself, amused. He then said his goodbyes to Hilde and Eirik after he promised to check in on the camp periodically.

Salazar made one last round around the camp, to check in on his friends and their newest companions. Most were up and about now, though there were still varying degrees to that wakefulness. Some looked far too merry for the night that they had all had, while some looked like they had yet to get one of the remedies that were distributed about the camp. Luna was one of the annoyingly cheery ones.

When he found her, Luna was perched on the trunk of a large fallen tree. He did not know where she had gotten them, but she woven a wreath of winter flowers in her golden hair. Her cloak was a pale blue that suited her, though she looked just as fae-like as always. “Dear Herrick,” she called to him with a soft smile. She hopped off the trunk then and did a little twirl on dainty feet. “Take Hati and take Skoll with you. Not now but later, as they will have importance to the outcome. Four of our new fellows shall round out your crew.”

“What sort of thing have you wrapped me up in this time?” Salazar wanted to groan. Whatever time of the morning it truly was, it was too early for Luna and her riddles. Though this one was more transparent than some of the others she had come up with in the past. Whatever mission this was he needed to take the Greyback twins along with him, as well as four of the Northern warriors. “And I see you are less cryptic than normal,” he deadpanned, with nothing else in his mind to say.

With a twinkling laugh, Luna pulled her cloak tighter around her. “I believe that I too have had too much to drink last night,” she said lightly before she darted in and kissed Salazar’s cheek. “Best not to keep your godfather waiting, dear Herrick.”

“Could have fooled me,” he muttered with a shake of his head. Salazar bid her a farewell then and then turned to leave. He spoke with a few more warriors on his way out of the camp, but eventually spotted Black at the cleared snow path back to the castle. The man gave him a nod and then silently followed him back towards the castle, then down to his office. When they arrived, Salazar offered Black a seat before he called for a house elf to bring them some coffee.

“After the night I had, I need a good strong mug of coffee,” Salazar explained as he took his own seat opposite of Black. “You are welcome to have a mug as well, if it is to your liking.” Once the coffee arrived, he poured himself a mug and then sat back to take a sip. He waited for Black to prepare a cup of his own before he asked, “What is it that you wished to speak to me about?”

Black took a quick sip of his coffee before he lowered the mug. “Yes, right. Last night, there was an Order meeting,” he started. “One of our spies passed along that Riddle plans on multiple raids in a few days. So, Albus has tasked me with gathering a few fighters together to defend one of the places that they plan to hit. To build my own team.”

Salazar sipped at his coffee while Black talked, but then breathed a small sigh and lowered his mug when the man went silent for a brief moment. In that silence, Salazar turned his gaze on the hearth. “This is what Luna spoke of,” he muttered before he turned his eyes back on Black. “You want me to aid you.”

“Yes,” Black agreed. “And, I want you to gather up a few fighters from our newest friends. I think it might be a good time to prove themselves.”

It would be a good opportunity, even if Luna had not already given him a minor heads up. “I already have two in mind,” Salazar said as he swirled his coffee around. “Both Hati and Skoll will benefit from a smaller scale battle before they are thrust into a larger one. Skoll, too, is a skilled strategist according to his brother.” He had to choose four others as well. After a moment of thought, he gave a nod. “I think I shall choose Orvar, Gunnarr, Eirik, and Hilde.”

“All of the ones we had breakfast with?” Black said in some surprise before his expression turned thoughtful. “Yes, that will work, I think. I already know all of them at least in passing. Though are you sure about Greyback’s sons?” There was a frown on Black’s face as he thought about the twins.

Hati and Skoll aside, the others were probably the ones most likely to get along with Black right away, which was part of the reason why Salazar had chosen them. “I trust Hati and Skoll with my life,” he told Black seriously. “They are strong fighters and will prove beneficial, if you give them the chance.” He paused then as he absently swirled his coffee about in his mug. “Besides, if you remember, they have sworn an Oath of Fealty. Even if you cannot trust them, you can trust the magic.” He paused then to take a sip of his coffee before he continued. “Now, I would like to ask where the Dark Lord intends to raid. What are our objectives?”

Black set his mug down on the table and then threw one arm over the back of the couch. “I suppose this is an opportunity for them to prove themselves as well. Alright, fine. I’ll trust you on this just this once. As for where we’ll be going, we’ll be defending Bewaldeth in Cumbria. It’s a little wizarding village near the border of England and Scotland.”

Bewaldeth? Salazar thought he knew the place as it had been one of the quick stops that he had taken Hermione through when they had been on their hunt for the Horcrux, if he remembered correctly. At any rate, the name sounded familiar. From what he understood, even before the Statute of Secrecy was enacted in 1692, there were villages across the Isles where they used magic to hide themselves from mundanes. They would effectively erase themselves from off the map so that mundanes would think that the villages had been abandoned or destroyed. There were dozens that stretched across the land, disguised as inhabitable places. There were even a number that had been submerged beneath man made reservoirs where they remained with magic to keep the waters at bay. He absently wondered what sort of magic hid Bewaldeth. “Is there anything in particular about Bewaldeth that the Dark Lord is interested in?” Salazar asked as he focused his thoughts.

“Does Riddle need any reason for what he does?” Black muttered before he gave a little shrug. “Honestly, we don’t have much information. It’s just one of about four places that he is going to target for reasons unknown. Whatever he wants, he’s playing it close to the chest.”

Something still did not quite sit right with him, but Luna had not seemed too worried about the mission. “Is this likely to put any spies in jeopardy?” He asked as he thought about Draco. It sounded like there might be more than one spy in the Dark Lord’s ranks, but Draco was likely the highest ranking one.

Black shook his head. “Not very likely. I guess the bastard made an announcement at a general meeting rather than at a meeting with just his inner circle. Deatheaters aren’t the most intelligent of wizards, so it was bound to have leaked one way or another. Riddle probably already suspects that he’s got more than one mole in his ranks.” He paused before he gave a little wave of his hand. “If you want my opinion, I don’t think he cares that there will be a clash between the two sides. There are still bound to be casualties and that’s probably his endgame for these raids. To sow fear in the general populace and to thin our ranks hopefully as a bonus.”

It did sound plausible. “Be as it may, they are about to have a rude awakening,” Salazar decided with a small smirk. “Whether they know that the Northmen are here or not, they will not be prepared to fight against them.” It did bring a question to mind, however. “Black, what is your stance on prisoners of war and the slaying of enemies?”

The look that passed over Black’s face was one of consideration that was tainted by dark thoughts. “It is difficult to answer,” he finally replied. “On one hand, if we only take prisoners, there is the possibility that they will be released and they will then rejoin Riddle’s ranks to continue to be a problem. Riddle and his Deatheaters have no problem killing those who oppose them. Also, Albus is of the mind that they could be rehabilitated if we could only give them a second chance.” Black frowned deeply and shook his head. “This is war, however. There are going to be casualties.”

The wizard then ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “But, we also have to take into consideration that Riddle has a multitude of Imperio’d wizards in his ranks. These are men and women that are under Riddle’s control and might not have wanted to fight for the madman.”

“Yes, that has been brought to my attention,” Salazar said with a frown as he swirled about the last of his coffee. He downed it before he set his mug aside. “We actually think we could devise a solution for that. A theory at any rate.”

At that proclamation, Black pulled his arm from the back of the chair and leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

Salazar lightly rubbed his fingers against his bearded jaw as he mused over how to answer. “The original idea was actually Hermione’s,” he said first. “She mentioned something in the mundane world that is known as an electromagnetic pulse. It is essentially a burst of electromagnetic energy, whether naturally or artificially created. According to Hermione, this energy can manifest itself in four different types of energy. It can cause disruptions of mundane communications, but also cause physical damage. Like a lightning strike.”

“Okay,” Black said slowly. “But what does that have to do with wizards under the control of the Imperius Curse?”

“We both know that there is no actual known cure to the Imperius Curse, so to speak,” Salazar responded first. “The only way the victim might be saved is if the victim is somehow able to throw off the curse themself. The only other possibility is if the wielder either lifts it willingly or it ends with the forfeit of their life. There have been some cases where severe head trauma can shake the tethers of the curse, but that has its obvious drawbacks.” Salazar paused then to gather his thoughts before he continued. “Hermione theorizes that a burst of raw magic, like the magical version of an EMP, could disrupt the spell tethers in the mind.”

That made Black sit up further and slide to the edge of his seat. “If there are any under the curse, then they will either give up easily or they will run the moment control is broken.”

Salazar nodded. “Exactly.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic,” Black breathed out. “Do you think it could be ready to go in the next few days?”

At the inquiry, Salazar gave a little grimace and a small shrug. “I do not know, though I think it is doubtful. I can bring it up to Hermione, but a few days is not a lot of time to build a magical artifact that will work without issue. Especially one with a concept that has never been successfully attempted in modern times.”

“That is true enough, though why bring it up?” Black asked as he sat back in his seat with a small huff.

It was a good question and not one that Salazar was sure that he could adequately answer. “It was an impulse, I suppose,” he said finally. “It is merely a theory right now but, perhaps if we actually put work into it, we could make it into a reality. More minds might bring more ideas.”

Black gave a sigh and a nod. “I know a few people who might be able to add their own theories. Remus, in particular, would probably like to discuss the theory with Hermione.” He gave a little wave of his hand. “But to bring it back to your original question, I think our aim should be to incapacitate first. However, sometimes you have to fight fire with fire.” His expression had darkened, but then it suddenly lightened once more and there was a light of mischief that sparked in Black’s grey eyes that was familiar. “War is war, but I don’t really wanna talk about those details. Instead, after meeting them, I can see that your style of dress is nearly identical to that of the Northern communities. So, are you going to go to battle in their armour as well?”

Though the man’s tone was that of jest, Salazar answered it seriously. “I own my own set,” he admitted. “Would you like to join in? I am sure we can find you a set that can be fitted to you somewhere.”

“Oh, definitely,” Black responded without a beat. “Can we paint our faces too?” He sounded entirely too eager, but Salazar could only smirk in response before he nodded in agreement. From what he remembered of Black, the man saw this as a game. A high stakes game with very real consequences, but a game of a sort. Salazar thought it might have been a way to distance himself from the violence, or a result of the incarceration during such a large portion of his adult life. However, Black was very good at what he did so Salazar was more than happy to play along for now.

As he stood suddenly, Black set his mug on the table and then fully straightened. “Oh, brilliant. I’ll leave that up to you, then.” He gave a little shrug. “Let me know if you find something and I’ll be more than willing to sit for a fitting. In the meantime, I need to go let Albus know what we’ve decided on. See if you can’t talk to Hermione about that device you mentioned. If there is anything else we learn before the battles, I’ll let you know. What I do know, before I forget to tell you, is that Riddle likes to send out his raids in the middle of the night. Probably thinks it’s easier to catch witches and wizards off guard while they think they are safe in their beds.”

“The night has a way of putting us both on our guard, yet make us far too comfortable in our beds,” Salazar agreed softly as he stood as well. “Alright, very well. I can speak with Hermione later today and I will see about some armour for you as well.” He might try the Room first to see if anything had been abandoned there. If not, the warriors might have extra pieces that they could cobble together a set from for Black.

Black was soon out the door, so Salazar took a moment to clean up and then headed off into his bedroom for a good long soak in the tub. Eolas joined him there to scold Salazar over how much he had drunk the night before once Salazar regaled him with what he could remember from the feast.

Once he felt marginally better, Salazar dressed and then left for the Room of Requirement. He was surprised then to find Draco there. “You missed a great feast,” he greeted the blonde as he shut the door behind him.

Draco glanced over his shoulder and scoffed. “I just might have preferred a feast with a horde of barbarians over the… party that the Dark Lord put together,” he said dryly, but he gave Salazar a small smile to show that his words were mostly in jest. “I am used to the high society balls that purebloods like to say they enjoy, but I truly think I would have preferred your feast even if I would have been well out of my depth.”

“There might have been teasing that would have occurred, but for the most part you would have been welcomed with open arms. I can imagine a number of individuals who would have tried to coax you into drinking games,” Salazar said in amusement as he looked out over the mountains of junk that filled the Room of Hidden Things. “For all the jests, they would have done what they could to make you feel accepted.”

As he paused in his search, Draco turned his full attention to Salazar. He was silent, but the dark haired wizard said nothing as well. He could see how the younger man struggled to put whatever thoughts were on his mind in the correct order, so he did not press. Finally, the pale haired wizard gave a bitter smile. “I have spent so much of my life trying to be accepted. Whether it was by my father, or by my peers. I liked to put up a strong facade, but this war has shown me where I am truly lacking.”

Salazar approached Draco further before he stood within arm’s length of the younger wizard. “Your Occlumency is impeccable. You have survived this long because you have good instincts and you have mind shields that surpass even the Dark Lord’s Legilimency. If nothing else, you should be proud of that.” A spot of colour painted Draco’s pale cheeks, but he held his chin high. It was a well practiced motion, though a far cry from the arrogance that Salazar could remember from the boy that Draco had been. They both had grown, had matured into men. If a bit jaded in the deepest parts of their beings.

“You flatter me,” Draco muttered before he turned away from Salazar.

As he approached another of the piles to give Draco his space, Salazar gave a soft hum. “Mm, perhaps,” he agreed lightly. “But I speak the truth. And there are others that have your back as well. Fred and George in particular seemed to have taken a liking to you.”

There was a soft cough from behind him that pulled a smirk to Salazar’s lips. He could not see it with their backs to each other, but Salazar could imagine that Draco’s face had turned a bright red. “Weasleys,” Draco muttered, just barely loud enough for Salazar to catch the words. “My father must be spinning in his grave.” It took everything in him for Salazar to hold back a snort.

Since he did not want to push Draco too far, Salazar made the easy decision to refrain from teasing Draco further. Instead, he engaged the man in conversation about potions. He had a few vague memories of Draco that seemed to imply that the other wizard had once been very good at potionmaking. Draco was more than happy to enter into a debate over the finer points of obscure potions. Blaise and Luna both did well enough to take over his classes as they stuck to his syllabus, but Draco was knowledgeable enough to pursue a mastery if he so wished.

It was sometime around midday that Blaise appeared in search of Draco. “You need to eat,” the dark skinned werewolf had insisted before he dragged Draco off before he could protest. Salazar gave a cheeky little wave to Draco as he was pulled out the door. With a soft snort then, Salazar looked towards the ceiling. “Hogwarts, my dear. Could you present to me something in regards to an armoury? Whatever pieces of armour that have been abandoned here throughout the years. Preferably dated closer to your birth.”

The Room quivered around him then before the piles of broken and abandoned things disappeared. As he watched, he lamented briefly that they could not just use this same principle to summon the diadem to them. Arrogance might have made the Dark Lord leave the horcrux in the Room, but the man was not stupid. The first thing they had tried was to summon the diadem, but Riddle had taken precautions to prevent such a thing. Still, with how long Draco had taken the time to search through the piles of junk along with the occasional help, they all felt that they were close with finally finding the horcrux. It was only a matter of time.

Broken out of his thoughts as armour stands started to appear around him, Salazar thanked the Room softly as he made his way over to the end of the line. There were perhaps twenty sets that appeared, each in their own state of disrepair or incompletion. Some were not quite the right style, or were too far off in size to be usable. Through careful examination however, Salazar was eventually able to piece together a complete set that only had minor damage. The magic of the castle helped to preserve the items, but time had still taken its toll. Still, Salazar was confident that the armourer in the camp would be able to work her magic. Quite literally in some regards.

The resizing of certain magical objects sometimes eroded the spellwork attached to said objects. It was why the magical highways and sea routes existed, why the Northerners had arrived by boat rather than by any other means of magical transportation. It was also why Salazar requested a chest for the armour pieces and used it to transport the set down to the camp where he sought out the armourer. He handed over the chest to her with promises that he would send Black to her for a proper fitting before the end of the day.

Once he had dropped off the chest to her along with his request to repair the pieces, Salazar sought out Black. He found the man with Lupin, who had just returned from some unspecified task for Dumbledore most likely. Lupin gave him a lightly guarded look, but did not protest as Salazar greeted them. “Black, I found you a set of armour for your use.”

“Bleedin’ hell, already?” Black interrupted. He ignored Lupin’s disapproving look as he grinned wildly. “Well? Where is it?”

Unimpressed with the demand, Salazar remained silent for a long moment until Black muttered some semblance of an apology. Salazar carefully did not roll his eyes as he accepted the apology with a small nod. “I left it with the camp armourer,” he finally explained to Black. “There are repairs that need to be done to it, so I brought it to the best witch for the job. She will need you to fit it properly, and preferably as soon as possible.”

“Well, then, now’s a good ‘nuff time as any!” Black quipped. “Come on, Moony, you’re coming with.” He grabbed onto Lupin’s arm and tried to drag him off, but the werewolf planted his feet. Even as sickly as he was for a werewolf, he was still inhumanly strong. Black pouted as he dropped Lupin’s arm. “Oh, come on, Moony. It’ll be fun!”

Salazar really did roll his eyes now. “Unlike a certain someone, I will not force you to come along if you do not wish to do so, Lupin. However, if you do join us, I can introduce you to the úlfhéðnar.”

Lupin turned his attention to Salazar then. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the word,” he said as he shot Black a sharp look as his friend prodded at him again, as he still tried to get him to come along.

With a nod, unsurprised, Salazar took a small breath. He was not entirely sure how Lupin might react. “The word úlfhéðnar translates roughly to wolf-coat or wolf-skin. It is their word for werewolf.” As he half suspected, Lupin froze up and a dark look passed over his face. Salazar quickly held up a hand. “The úlfhéðnar are different from the werewolves here,” he explained. “You have your rogue wolves and those who have been suppressed under the thumb of the Ministry by the use of Wolfsbane. In the Northern communities, úlfhéðnar are nearly all warriors and are not outcasts from society. There are warriors who will become úlfhéðnar, but most are born as one or both parents are a úlfheðinn.”

“Like Greyback’s sons,” Lupin said tightly. “Though Greyback I would call a rogue wolf.” He muttered the last part. Fenrir and Lupin still avoided each other, though it was mainly Lupin that hid from his sire. Fenrir had granted him his space, though Salazar had spied the way that Fenrir sometimes watched Lupin.

Salazar wanted to sigh, but he only gave a small shake of his head. “Fenrir has made more than his fair share of mistakes, yes. He has paid for those mistakes in the loss of his mate and separation from his sons for most of their lives,” he said softly. “As he tells me, Fenrir had been ready to escape north until the Dark Lord finally caught up with him. Skoll and Hati would have been raised to be úlfhéðnar, but they were not raised in the culture. The úlfhéðnar in the camp have taken them under their instruction, however, where I believe they will finally be able to really come into their own.” He paused before he continued gently. “If you speak with them, you might be able to find answers. They may be of a different culture than what you are used to, but they have the same magic.”

It took Lupin a long moment to respond, but he finally caved beneath the pleading eyes of Black. “Fine. I will come along,” he said with a long suffering sigh. Black gave him a solid whack against his back as a large grin adorned his face, but Lupin did not even bow beneath the sudden weight of his friend.

“Well then, Evans, lead the way! Or are you alright if I call ya by your first name even though we’re not in the camp right now?” Black asked as he pulled away from Lupin. “You… are welcome to call me Sirius.”

The ache in his chest was back. He wondered if Lupin could smell the longing in his scent, though the man did not even spare him a glance. Lupin’s nose was stronger than most, other wolves aside, but still muted from what it should have been. He wondered if there was still time to reverse the damage as werewolves were amazingly resilient. “You may call me by my name, Sirius,” he said finally before he motioned with his hand, his heart locked away tightly in his chest. “Follow me and I will lead you down to the armourer.”

As the two men followed behind him, Salazar could hear Black regale Lupin with what had happened that morning when he had joined the camp for breakfast. “I think you might like Gunnarr and Orvar,” the man said as they passed through the castle doors.

Salazar smiled to himself as the camp came into view as they passed through the trees. The warriors seemed to have fully recovered from their revelry the night before, the camp alive with sound and movement. It was a stark contrast to the low rumble of chatter from that morning. Salazar could hear Black and Lupin both quiet from behind him. He looked back and made a small motion with his head. “The armourer has set up on the edge of camp because of her furnace. However, it is on the other side of camp.” They could have walked around the perimeter, but where was the fun in that?

As they strode down through the temporary roads of the camp, they were stopped multiple times by warriors who greeted Salazar and were curious about his companions. Black had seemed hesitant at first, but was quickly won over as the warriors were just as welcoming as Gunnar and Orvar had been. Many of the men and women had a tentative mastery of the English language, but they did not let any barriers get in the way. Black was more than happy to chat with them and make promises to come back. Salazar was glad to see that the man was finally starting to open up to others around him. He might never fully be alright, but there was a spark back in those grey eyes of his.

“He is a úlfhéðinn?” A voice spoke from behind him and startled him as he watched Black along with Lupin. Black was animated, but Lupin hung back a little as he seemed well out of his element.

Salazar turned to see a well built tall man behind him, his eyes a liquid silver. The colour of the moon, not an uncommon colour in werewolves. Especially with those with ties to the Northern communities. The man’s chestnut hair was long, but braided back and shaved on the sides to reveal the tattoo of a stylized wolf. “He is, but not in the way that you are used to,” he responded to the question. “I do not know his full story, but I know he was bitten as a child by a young werewolf angry at the treatment of English wizards. His father was particularly outspoken against your kin.”

The werewolf rumbled softly as he looked Lupin over. “He sees it as a disease and he poisons himself further,” he observed. Salazar could only give a small nod with a sigh. That seemed to be a frequent observation of Lupin, but they were not wrong. The werewolf headed towards the small group, so Salazar quickly followed. “Wolf,” the wolven warrior greeted as he stepped up to Lupin’s side. The older werewolf startled and Salazar could see him grimace in an aborted snarl.

“Bleedin’... what do you eat up there?” Black exclaimed as he looked up at the large warrior before he gave Lupin a quick glance out of the corner of his eye as he gauged his friend’s reaction.

“He’s a werewolf, Sirius,” Lupin said tightly, his body coiled tight in preparation if he needed to defend himself.

The Northman made a soft noise in the back of his throat. “I am Agnarr, alpha of the Fyrkat úlfhéðnar,” he introduced himself. “Come. Come meet the others of the pack.”

Lupin bristled and started to bear his teeth. “You are not my alpha,” he stated, a growl to his voice. “You have no right to order me around.”

At the tension between the two, Black looked ready to step in. Luckily, Salazar was close enough by now that he was able to grab the man’s upper arm. “Hold back,” he said quietly. “Agnarr is a good man and an even better alpha.” He had met Agnarr at some point last night, though he could not really pinpoint the exact meeting. Fenrir had mentioned Agnarr in the past, however. “Your friend is fighting against his instincts, but Agnarr will be able to handle things. If you try to interfere, you will only get in the way.” Black did not seem entirely convinced, but at least he no longer fought against Salazar’s grip. “The full moon was only a few days ago. Even with how he suppresses his nature, the instincts of the wolf are still very close to the surface. Even if his temper snaps, Agnarr will be able to calm him down.”

It seemed to be a silent battle of wills as Lupin snarled at Agnarr. The alpha stood quietly, unimpressed by Lupin’s posturing. Slowly, Lupin’s metaphorical hackles started to lower. When the tension in the man’s shoulders finally gave way to resignation, Lupin breathed out a heavy sigh and grumbled underneath his breath. “Fine. I’ll follow you,” he muttered in a nearly petulant tone.

“Good. Follow me. We can share food and mead,” Agnarr said and made a motion with his hand. He turned then and led Lupin away. The greying werewolf hesitated a moment longer as he shot Black a quick look, but Black shooed him off.

Once they were gone, Black shook his head. “Albus sent him to talk to some of the packs in Britain to try to get them on our side. But there aren’t many and the largest ones follow Riddle,” he said. “Those who don’t follow Riddle… well, if they had been bitten as kids then they’ve never been trained in magic. The rest want no part in the war because they want to stay hidden away from public view. Not that the werewolf population is that large.” Black turned his gaze on Salazar then. “Your Greybacks and Zabini are outliers compared to most of the werewolves we know. Agnarr and his crew are more like your wolves, right?”

With a soft snort, Salazar made a motion with his head to lead Black towards the armourer again. “If you mean that they can transform at will, then yes. I also believe Fenrir has trained in some of the úlfhéðnar customs, but the others have not as they have not had the chance. There is more to being a úlfhéðinn than just being able to transform into a werewolf.”

“Oh?”

Salazar smirked a bit when he spotted the armourer’s tent. “You will just have to see, Black,” he drawled before he chuckled as Black scowled at him. “Lupin might tell you, might not. But you will see for yourself eventually and why spoil the surprise? It is much more fun that way.”

“For you maybe,” Black muttered, but there was no real heat behind his words.

Salazar only chuckled in response and then went to introduce Black to Inga, the armourer. Though she was short in stature, Inga was curvaceous and packed a lot of strength into her short frame. And the one thing Salazar had learned in the very short time he had known her, Inga was not the type to take any trouble from anyone. As they entered the tent, she sized Black up before she gave a curt nod. “You must be Sirius Black. Good. We have a lot of work to do.”

Unable to put up even a word of protest, Inga had Black strip down to his undergarments. She was nice enough to put up some curtains for the wizard where he could undress and then try on the armour that Salazar had found for him. Still, Salazar could not help but give the man a small smirk as he finally emerged in the armour. They had needed to lead Black through the steps on how to don the armour and the man had struggled with some of the straps. Not all of the straps were intact anyways. Still, Black had insisted he dress on his own.

“It suits you,” Salazar said as he stood from the stool that Inga had provided him with and appraised Black in the armour. “Even with that aristocratic face of yours.”

The man picked at some of the loose ties and looked up at the younger wizard. “Aristocratic? I’ve been known to be called shaggy. Though the Black blood always did shine through strongly,” Salazar said before Inga started to pull him every which way to get a good look at the fit of the armour. “Jesus, woman.”

When he saw the look that Inga shot Black, Salazar snorted. “Best not to antagonize her.” Black grumbled, but let it go and let Inga do what she needed. Eventually, she shooed Black off again to remove the armour once more so she could get to work.

Once Black had returned, redressed in his robes, he handed the bundle off to Inga. “I will repair the damage and adjust the fit so it is comfortable, but there is only so much I can do in just a few days. But do not worry, I will have it ready for you.”

“Ah, thanks,” Black said as they were shooed off by the diminutive woman. As they walked away, Salazar could not help but be amused by the vaguely glossy eyed look that the older man sported. “What just happened?” Black finally asked, which surprised a laugh from Salazar. The man shot him a sharp look as his brow creased briefly, but he quickly shook off whatever thought had come to him.

Salazar spared him a curious look before he turned his attention to the path in front of them again. “That was Inga, the best armourer in all of Fyrkat. Or so I have been told. She has a lot of… spirit, I suppose you could say.”

“I’ll say,” Black muttered and then he shook his head. “We should go find Remus. I probably need to save him from his social awkwardness. Though he can be quite the Marauder when he wants to be. Puts on a good front, you know. Was a teacher’s pet in our school days, but he was just as guilty of mischief as the rest of us.”

“I can imagine,” Salazar responded dryly and then shook his head. “We should leave him be. If he is as you say he is, then he can escape on his own if he needs it. We should not interfere in wolven business.”

There was silence between them for a long moment, Black’s expression furrowed. Finally, he relented. “Alright. If you think it will do him any good, then I’ll let it go for now. He’s a big boy, but I worry, you know? Hasn’t had an easy life.” Salazar could relate. “I guess I’ll go find Gunnarr and Orvar.” He gave Salazar a little salute and then disappeared off down another path.

With Black gone, Salazar decided to hunt down Hermione to ask her about the possibility of her magical pulse device. He ended up in her chambers nearly an hour later once he had finally tracked her down with help from the castle. She was curled up on a patched chair with a quilt about her shoulders, an orange mangy cat settled on her lap as she sipped at her tea. Salazar had been almost reluctant to disturb her as she set a large tome aside, but she had eagerly invited him in.

Once he had settled in the only other chair in the room, Salazar declined the offer of tea. “What brings you here?” Hermione finally asked as she absently carded her fingers through the orange fur of the cat. Crookshanks purred contentedly as the tip of his tail flicked occasionally.

Salazar pulled his eyes away from the cat and gave his friend a small smirk. “I came by to make sure you had recovered from last night,” he said first before he chuckled at the unimpressed look she sent him. “Do I need a reason to come visit?”

“No, of course not,” Hermione said with a roll of her eyes before she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. She went back to the absent pets of Crookshanks’ fur. “However, you do seem to have a reason to be here. So, out with it.”

“I cannot get anything past you it seems,” Salazar said before he leaned forward some. “Do you remember our conversation about electromagnetic pulses and their comparisons to raw magical outbursts?”

There was a pause of silence between them before Hermione hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, I do. I mentioned how most magical pulses are uncontrolled,” she mused. “There are some crystals, notably used by cursebreakers, to simulate a magical pulse. However, these only contain specified spells that blanket an immediate area. Raw magical pulses are uncontrolled, often the result of magical backlash. There has never been a need for a pulse of raw magical power. At least not in any recent years that I know of.”

Salazar gave a nod. “You theorized that a pulse could disrupt the hold of the Imperius curse on a magical mind, yes?”

“Yes, I believe so. It takes a great deal of willpower to overthrow an Imperius on oneself, but also magical power. With how powerful Riddle is, there are very few who have the power or the will to withstand his magic. However, if the magic is disrupted for even a moment, I believe that it is possible that the natural defences of the mind will be able to throw off the rest of the lingering curse,” she rambled. “However, we do have to take in account that such a pulse might also have an effect on other magic in close proximity. It would be different from a Finite Incantatem where it simply cuts off the flow of magic to end a spell. A pulse of wild magic has the capacity to mutate spells rather than end them. It could very well do such a thing to an Imperius.”

While he listened to her, Salazar mused over the points she had made as well. He had not fully considered what other side effects there might be, though he agreed with her. “So, I cannot imagine that you would be able to build me a device within a couple of days that would be safely operational. And mages cannot safely send out a burst of raw magic either.”

Hermione blinked and then scowled lightly. “Most definitely not. I might be smart, but I am not a miracle worker,” she huffed.”And a burst of raw magic is more likely to burn out all of your magical pathways, so do not even think about it, Salazar Slytherin.”

Oh, full name. With a laugh, Salazar leaned back in his chair again. “You are one of the most brilliant witches I have ever known,” he told her. “But, not to worry, I never expected miracles from you and I do not plan to do anything stupid.”

“Good,” Hermione sniffed, but then she gave a little smile. “Now, what do you want such a device for? Riddle has a number of wizards under his control, but why mention wanting such a thing in a few days?”

Salazar sighed softly as he turned his gaze to Crookshanks, who stared at him unblinkingly. He had to suppress a chuckle before he looked back up at Hermione. “You missed it because you were with the rest of us, but there was apparently an Order meeting last night.”

A frown took over Hermione’s face as she started to pet Crookshanks again, an action that seemed to please the scruffy ginger tabby. Hermione paid him no notice, her actions almost mechanical. “It must have been last minute because I hadn’t heard of anything like that, though it must have been after Draco returned from his own meeting. Who told you?”

“Black came to me and mentioned it,” Salazar said. “He wanted me to put together a crew because the Dark Lord has made his intentions clear to send out his followers on raids. Dumbledore tasked Black with protecting Bewaldeth, so Black approached me for help. I am not sure if this is entirely what Dumbledore meant when he gave the order to Black, but he had to have known it was a possibility.” He chuckled then. “Black decided he wanted a Northern warband.”

Hermione laughed as she looked down at Crookshanks and gently scratched next to the tabby’s ear. “Well, I am glad to hear that Sirius is open to our new allies. I know we were all worried that they wouldn’t be accepted. You remember Sirius was particularly hostile when you first arrived.” She gave her friend a soft smile and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “I am so happy that he’s warming up to you. But you haven’t told him yet.”

“Not yet,” Salazar said shortly. “Soon.”

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione adjusted Crookshanks’ collar. “You say that every time. You know it will be better to be upfront with him before he has the chance to find out elsewhere. He’ll be hurt if he doesn’t hear from you first. You don’t even have to tell him that you’re Salazar. Just Harry.”

“Just Harry,” Salazar echoed softly. The words seemed important somehow, but he shook them off. “I will tell him soon, Hermione. But not before the raid.” Black could not afford to be distracted, after all.

Though she pressed together her lips into a thin line, Hermione luckily did not protest. “Yes, fine. So, you’ll be going with him? Who else?”

Thankful for the change in subject, Salazar ran his fingers over his jaw and the coarse hair there. “Hati and Skoll, along with both Hilde and Eirik. I am not sure if you met them last night, but our crew is completed by two wizards named Orvar and Gunnarr. Black met them this morning and seemed to really get along with them.”

“Sirius actually agreed to let you take Hati and Skoll? I would have thought he would protest. Not that I think he is prejudiced against werewolves, especially given he is friends with Remus. However, given his friendship with Remus, he hasn’t been on the best terms with the Greybacks.” They were lucky that there had not been any altercations.

Salazar nodded with a small smile. “I reminded him that they had taken Oaths of Fealty and convinced him to give them a chance. I believe he grudgingly agreed, but that is all that they need.”

Hermione gave a soft laugh. “They have been on their best behaviour lately, even if a bit too close to another set of twins we both know.” Her smile became coloured with mischief. Salazar had to laugh as well, though he stood up.

“If you do not mind, I am going to head down to my office,” he said. “After the excitement of last night and everything that has happened this morning, I want a bit of quiet before dinner.”

As he made his excuses, Hermione hummed and regarded Salazar with a critical eye. “Yes, I have hidden myself away here to recover from last night, so I entirely understand. However, you never did have lunch, did you?”

She knew him far too well, it seemed. “Yes, you guessed correctly.”

“Thought as much,” Hermione said primly, but then she gave a smile. “Sit back down, Herrick. Have some tea and snacks with me. I could use a bit to eat myself and I would be happy to have some company.”

It did not take much to convince Salazar to stay. He gave an exaggerated sigh, but took a seat again and called for a house elf. He watched Hermione from the corner of his eye as he ordered some food for the two of them. Once the little creature had popped away, Salazar turned his gaze fully on his friend. “S.P.E.W. on the back burner?” He teased lightly.

Hermione scoffed and tossed a bit of her hair over her shoulder. “You can make fun of it, but I still want to do what I can about house elf rights once this mess with the Dark Lord and the Ministry is all finally put to rest.” She trailed off then and flushed some, her cheeks puffed out a little as she fought back embarrassment. “However, I did do more research on the history of house elves and the nature of their magic. They are treated well here, at the very least.”

Salazar’s expression softened as a tray with a tea pot and sandwiches appeared on the table between the two of them. “Creature rights are important. And not just for house elves.” As she hummed her agreement, Hermione leaned forward to prepare herself a new cup of tea and she then snagged a sandwich for herself. Salazar grabbed a sandwich first before he poured himself a cup of tea as well. “How are the duelling classes going?” Salazar asked then once he had swallowed his first bite. Though he had been required to help with the first few lessons, he had luckily been able to drop those responsibilities.

After she had swallowed her mouthful of tea, Hermione made a little face. “Quite a number of the students have dropped the class,” she said. “There were a few students that were doing really well with the lessons, but duelling is not for everyone. And I hate to say a bad word about other professors, but Professor Snape is a very strict taskmaster. He means well… to a degree, I suppose. But that man does not have the patience to teach,” she grumbled.

Yes, Salazar could quite imagine. He had a few memories of Snape that had returned and they did not paint the professor in a favourable light. Pity, since he would have otherwise quite enjoyed debates over potionmaking with the older wizard. Snape was also the one wizard he actually looked forward to finding out he was both Salazar Slytherin and used to be Harry Potter. “Think Snape will faint when he finds out the secret to my identity?” He had to ask.

Hermione nearly snorted out a sip of tea. She quickly recovered and wiped her mouth with a napkin she grabbed from off of the tray. “Honestly? Quite possibly,” she admitted with a suppressed laugh. “I would quite like to be there when he finds out, however improper it would be for me to laugh as I know will happen.”

“Do not worry over whether it would be proper,” Salazar said with a wave of his hand, mischief in his smile. “Want to make a bet instead?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t,” Hermione said hesitantly, but Salazar said nothing and simply waited. He knew Hermione would cave soon enough. And, finally, she gave a huff and a small whine. “Yes, alright. A full galleon says that he won’t actually faint, but he’ll be rendered completely speechless and will likely go all red in the face. Probably a mix of disbelief and anger.”

With a laugh, Salazar reached out a hand. “And I will bet a galleon that he will pale to a near unnatural hue before he passes out cold.” Hermione nodded and clasped his hand solemnly. A moment later though, she joined Salazar in laughter. Once he sat back again, Salazar finished off his sandwich and then took a sip of his tea. After a bit of silence, Salazar looked down at the last of his tea in the bottom of his cup. “How is Ron?” He asked softly as he thought about his first friend.

At the question, Hermione froze and then slowly lowered her cup. “I haven’t really seen much of him around lately,” she said quietly. “He’s spending a lot of his time in Hogsmeade lately, whether it is helping to keep the Nexus under watch or just spending time in the village. I see him at Order meetings, but he’s been avoiding me lately because I have been hanging out with former Slytherins.”

“What happened after I disappeared?” Salazar asked. They had never really discussed it before, not really. Especially about Ron in particular.

Hermione was quiet for a long time as she swirled her tea absently. She let out a sigh finally and took a sip. “We focused on our studies,” she said. “Well, I did at least. Ron had his moments where he was motivated to study, but he always seemed preoccupied with trying to fill the empty space you left behind. The newspaper ran a smear campaign against you and Dumbledore during the summer months. Once you disappeared, there were all sorts of conspiracy theories they published and passed off as fact. Ron tried to stand up for you, though honestly I think he enjoyed the attention.”

Silent again for a moment, Hermione gave a wry smile. “Our last three years were relatively quiet, all things considered. Riddle stayed low for awhile as he rebuilt his fighting strength, though eventually started to up his attacks. We were able to have relatively normal school lives, though the threat of open war was always in the back of our minds. Then, when we graduated, I attended a couple of years at Lufkin University. Ron joined the Auror program in the Ministry. Then, this summer before you returned, I took a leave from University to become a teaching assistant at Professor Dumbledore’s request. Ron also dropped out of the Auror program at the Headmaster’s invitation to help with the Order and the security of the school.”

She gave him a smile then, warmer than before. “When you returned, even though I did not yet know you were you, Ron and I started to drift apart. Honestly, we had already started to drift apart the year after you first disappeared. It only got worse once we returned to Hogwarts.” Hermione shook her head then and set her cup down. “Ron is not a bad man. He has strong opinions shaped by having to grow up in the middle of a war, but he’s not a bad man. We just have two strong personalities that often clash. It’s only natural that we drift apart.”

It seemed to Salazar that she felt guilty over the loss of her friend. He stood up then and went over to crouch next to Hermione’s chair. When she looked at him in confusion, Salazar reached out and placed his hand over hers. “A friendship goes two ways,” he told her. “If Ron does not want to put in the work to keep you as a friend, then there is nothing wrong with letting the relationship go. You can be civil still with each other, but sometimes friends come and go.”

“Yes, I suppose,” she said softly. “Thank you, Herrick.” She gently squeezed his hand then, so Salazar squeezed back before he let go and returned to his seat.

“So,” Salazar drawled as he shifted the topic away from Ron. “What were you studying in University? Lufkin, you said?”

Hermione nodded and smiled more brightly at the change in subject. “Lufkin University was established in 1801 by the first female Minister for Magic, Artemisia Lufkin,” she said. “It was originally named The Institute of Higher Magicke, but the name was changed years later to honour the witch who had founded it. A lot of the magical guilds run programs through the University and, next to Hogwarts, has one of the largest research libraries in all of Great Britain.” She paused to take a breath, her cheeks bright with her pride. “I was taking a number of different magical theory courses, though I plan to earn a degree in Wizarding Law once I return to University.”

That was quite impressive. “Very admirable,” Salazar said. “Once this war is over, I know you will return to your schooling. Then, one day, you will take the Ministry of Magic by storm.”

“You flatter me,” Hermione said with a blush, though she also looked quite proud at the compliment. “What do you intend to do after the war?” She turned the question on him, likely in an attempt to get the conversation off of her. Still, Salazar was slightly stumped by the question.

With a shake of his head, Salazar pulled his braid over his shoulder. “Honestly, I do not know.” He did not even know if he would survive the war, though they all continued to insist that he would survive. “Part of me wants to stay here. I founded Hogwarts, after all. I feel like I have an obligation to my House, to bring them back to their full glory.”

“But you don’t want to stay,” Hermione observed softly.

Salazar closed his eyes and gave a little shrug. “For all of the good memories… Hogwarts has changed since I founded her with the help of Rowena, Helga, and Godric. I have my memories, foggy as they are, from when I was Harry Potter. Sometimes, it is hard to keep my two very different lives straight. It makes me want to go far away.”

“You don’t have to stay away forever, you know. If you do decide to go elsewhere,” she told him in a gentle tone.

She was right, of course. “Yes, perhaps. But I want to focus on getting through this war first,” he told her before he stood up then. “Thank you for the meal, Hermione. I will see you later at dinner.” He wanted the privacy of his chambers to straighten out his thoughts or just let himself think of nothing. Either way, he told himself that he was not about to run away. He merely needed the quiet and solitude. Luckily, Hermione did not protest at his abrupt excuses to depart and only bid him a farewell.

Once he was in his chambers, Salazar took a seat in front of the hearth and breathed out a heavy sigh. He rubbed his hands over his face and ignored Eolas’ well meant scolding. He knew he was tired, he felt it down to the very core of his being. As Eolas draped himself over Salazar’s lap, the wizard sighed again and leaned back in his chair. He ran his fingers over the serpent’s smooth scales and let the creature’s gentle hissing lure him off into a light doze. He remained like that for quite some time, though eventually roused himself enough to settle in with a book. He did meet Hermione for dinner later in the Great Hall, but then was in bed at an early hour that night.

A few days later, on the evening of the Dark Lord’s raids, Salazar had eaten early before he had sought out Black. He had taken his armour down to the camp the day before where it was being safeguarded in the hall tent along with Black’s armour that the armourer had finished ahead of schedule. Hati and Skoll had gone off to the úlfhéðnar so that the pack could help them prepare for the battle ahead. Hilde and the others would meet them at the tent hall once they were ready.

He found Black in his chambers with Lupin, where the older wizard practically vibrated with energy. “Hope you can handle him,” Lupin muttered before he practically shoved Black at Salazar. Amused, Salazar only gave Lupin a small nod in greeting. “Be careful, Sirius,” Lupin said softly as his eyes landed back on Black. “Come back in one piece.”

“Don’t I always? Come on, Herrick! We have a battle to prepare for,” Black said with a short cackle. Salazar turned to lead Black away, though he did not miss the soft and reassuring look the man sent his friend. Salazar held back a comment as Black caught up with him. They said nothing to each other then until they had left the castle. Finally, Black looked over to Salazar. “Is it true that Northmen are not afraid to die and so that makes them better warriors?”

Salazar adjusted his cloak as he mused on how to answer the sudden question. Finally, he looked in the direction of the camp where he could see the furls of campfire smoke even in the fading winter light. “It is perfectly human to be afraid of death,” Salazar said. “Even some of the best warriors can be afraid to die. However, they do not fear what comes after death. There are many afterlifes that they believe in. To some, to die in battle is to die with honour. So, they will find themselves in Odinn’s Hall to feast with him and other fallen ancestors. Whether that makes them better warriors? Well, perhaps for some.”

“Makes sense, I suppose. You want to go to Valhalla when you die?” Black asked curiously.

At the question, Salazar had to laugh. “Valhalla is not for me,” he said. “Even if I were to fall in some sort of battle, either physical or mental, there is a place for me in Helheim. Valhalla is Odinn's Hall and where he gathers warriors to prepare for Ragnarok. If one were to believe in Ragnarok, which I do not.” Salazar shook his head. "Each day the warriors fight and kill each other before they are resurrected to drink and feast until the cycle continues again. For some, this might be an afterlife that they would look forward to, but I do not include myself in that number. I fight because I must, not because I enjoy it. But I am rambling now."

Black was quiet for a long time as they walked the path down to the camp. Finally, he spoke quietly, “For a long time, I gave up on the gods that I was raised with. Our parents would do rituals out of tradition, but it was our grandmother that shared the old stories of Welsh and Celtic gods. Reggie says he’ll wait for me in Annwn.”

“He also said that he does not want to see you for a long time yet,” Salazar said sternly. His voice softened then as he turned his gaze from Black. “Both of my parents wait for me in Annwn. Though I shall find myself in Helheim when I one day die, I still believe that I shall see them again.” Their spirits had visited him, but it was not the same. When he died, he would be able to embrace them like he had never been able to in this life. “No matter where my ancestors rest, I will meet with them one day. After all, I do not see why we cannot move between afterlives to visit friends or ancestors who have gone to other places. The Gods are not so cruel.”

“Wonder if I knew your parents in some way,” Black muttered. “You seem not that much older than Harry and I was subjected to a lot of pureblood families. Your features are vaguely aristocratic, too.” He mused aloud, though the question was not posed towards Salazar directly. Still, the younger wizard nearly choked at the idle curiosity that his godfather had uttered. Black certainly had known his parents, but he did not dare comment with lies nor truth.

Luckily, they had reached the camp by now. There was a heaviness that had descended upon the camp and there were eerie shadows that the fires cast upon the tents. The warriors were solemn and steadfast as they stood lined up in the makeshift paths through the camp. They parted as Black and Salazar strode past them, though would reach out to pat them on the shoulders or the back as a way to show their support and lend their strength. Salazar nodded his thanks to many of them as he accepted their blessings. Then, as they entered the central tent hall, they found it empty. The others would meet with them soon, but it would give them time to change into their armour.

Salazar removed his cloak and folded it before he placed it on one of the tables. He then approached Black so that he could help him with his armour. Gunnar had provided a set of a tunic and leggings that would be comfortable beneath the armour for Black since the two men were close to the same size. Black had worn the clothes down to the camp and now took the time to mention that he understood why Salazar wore what he did instead of normal wizarding robes. Salazar only rolled his eyes in response.

Once Black was dressed in his armour, Salazar left him to fiddle with it and adjust to the weight of it. He first unbuckled his sword belt and laid it out on a table for now. He ignored the way that Black eyed the weapon with a curious gaze. “You know, I didn’t say anything before, but you always have your sword on you,” Black said as he leaned against the table, his arms crossed over his chest. “I noticed it first during our duel when you blocked Einar’s swing at you, but there have been other little clues that I noticed since then now that I know where to look. Even in the safety of Hogwarts, you always seem to have it on you.”

Salazar glanced at Black out of the corner of his eye as he settled his chainmail byrnie over his thick tunic. He was grateful that Black had not mentioned it to Dumbledore, who was not as likely to be as understanding. As he adjusted straps, Salazar turned his eyes away from Black. “Do you know what the Hávamál is,” he asked.

When Black shook his head, Salazar picked up a leather bracer and started to strap it to his arm. Hermione has stumbled across a translation of the text in her quest for knowledge before she had shared it with Salazar out of curiosity. Sure that he recognized it, Salazar had done his own research into the text. “It is a collection of aphorisms, words of wisdom, and counsels that are often ascribed to Odinn. They are generally thought to have been first composed sometime in the 9th or 10th century, though it is far more likely that they are far older than that given the nature of oral tradition. The only remaining textual source is the 13th century Codex Regius of Iceland, but… that is not really what is important.”

“You really are a professor, aren’t you? You like to lecture.” Black interrupted with a small smirk, amused.

As he finished with the buckles of one bracer, Salazar then grabbed the other. “Yes, I have been known to ramble about certain subjects as I try to relay as much information as I feel is relevant to answer the question,” he responded. “Now, the Hávamál is a collection of proverbs, so to speak. One of them reads, in a rough translation,

“Leaving in the field his arms,

let no man go a foot’s length forward;

for it is hard to know when on the way

a man may need his weapon.”

Black thought over the words and then pushed away from the table. “Always be prepared,” he decided was the most obvious takeaway.

With a nod, Salazar finished with the buckles and then turned to face Black. “Though Hogwarts has been said to be the safest place in all of the Isles, we are still in the middle of a war. One never knows when we might be called to battle, so it is better for me to be prepared at a moment’s notice than worry about going into a fight with only one weapon.”

“You have more than one weapon on you at all times,” Black shot back in a deadpan.

With a laugh, Salazar gave a shrug. “As you can imagine, Einar has helped me to mend my rune bands. I can use them to wield limited magic if my wand is unavailable to me, with my wand a weapon in of itself. Then, I have my sword.” He might also often carry a few knives on his person at times, though they were small. He had one in his boot right now, and one went into a little holster hidden in one of his bracers.

Black fidgeted with his own chainmail again as he adjusted to the weight of it. “You know, I find it hard to believe that you didn’t grow up in the Northern communities,” he said as he grabbed his cloak and swung it around his shoulders before he fastened it with a pin.

“What makes you say that?” Salazar asked as he grabbed his own fur lined cloak.

“You seem so comfortable with them, but your accent gives you away,” Black responded. “The way you form some words aren’t always consistent between a singular accent, but the majority of it is similar to Minerva’s. You have a very Scottish accent.”

Salazar smirked a bit and picked up a shield from the floor and offered it to Black. “Observant. And you would be right. I was not raised in the Northern communities, though I would call Fyrkat my second home after Hogwarts.” He paused as he let go of the shield as Black took it and tested its weight. “Sometimes, I have the wish to move there if I can survive this war. Now, you will notice that the shield is very light. It has been charmed to be featherlight to ease the exhaustion of carrying it, but still packs a punch if used as a battering ram.”

As he listened, Black gave a nod. “How does it hold up against spells?”

At the question, Salazar took a step back. “Hold it up and channel your magic into it like you would a wand,” he instructed. Once Black did so, the runes that were engraved in the sturdy wood started to glow. “There is a latent enchantment embedded into the wood that will stand up against most basic spellwork by absorbing the magic. When you channel your magic into the shield, it will hold up against even the Killing Curse. Do keep in mind, however, that it will only survive three direct hits from the Death Curse before it shatters.”

Black straightened up as he looked down at the shield with renewed interest. “That’s useful,” he muttered before the door to the tent suddenly opened. As Hilde first entered, she was then followed by her father. Gunnar and Orvar were not far behind. They immediately went to greet Black while Hilde approached Salazar.

As she neared him, Salazar picked up his sword belt once more and fastened it about his waist. “If I did not know you, I might think that you were a vision of a valkyrja come to tell me of my fate in battle,” he said as he looked up and faced her fully.

Hilde gave him a pleased smirk and held up a small pot. “And I decree that I have not come for your life, brave warrior,” she gave a little laugh then. “Close your eyes, Herrick, and I will apply the paint.”

“Charcoal?”

“Among other things, yes,” she said as he finally closed his eyes and held still as she used her fingers to apply the dark paint around his eyes and over the bridge of his nose. She then used three fingers to drag marks down his cheek opposite of his scarred one. Once she finished, she allowed Salazar to open his eyes and then conjured up a mirror for him. “Perhaps we will scare those cowards back into whatever hole they crawled out of,” she commented. Salazar snorted as he observed her handiwork. If only it would be that easy.

Hilde laughed softly and dispelled the mirror. “We only wait for your Hati and Skoll. Agnarr is nearly done with them, from what I understand.”

That was good. They needed to get to the village before the raid started, so they could make sure that the people were safely inside the village boundaries. Dumbledore had sent a warning ahead, but there were likely to be stragglers or just those who had decided to ignore the warnings. Before Salazar could say anything though, the door opened and the Greyback twins stepped in as if on cue. They were bare chested, but wore what appeared to be wolf hides on their shoulders which gave the illusion they were larger than they actually were. Their faces were painted fiercely and they carried not a shield nor a weapon.

Black whistled from where Gunnar had finished with the paint on Black’s face. “Got to admit, I wouldn’t want to face either of you on a battlefield,” he said before he looked into the mirror that Orvar had conjured for him. “Damn, wouldn’t want to face me either!” It seemed the Black had finally donned the translation charm that Hermione had provided him with the day before. Communication would become easier between them all now and the deatheaters were unlikely to know the language either, so it would hopefully increase their intimidation.

Eirik looked over their group and gave a firm nod. “Good. We are all ready and the others wait for us.” He reached down then to pick up a shield as they had all been stored in the Hall. Once he had selected his shield, the others all gathered their own as both Hati and Skoll remained by the door. With his own shield in hand, Salazar took the lead with Hilde by his side and Black close behind them. Orvar and Gunnarr came along behind him while Eirik trailed closely behind. Hati and Skoll took up the rear.

As they exited the tent and walked a short distance, they were met by an empty circle lit by torches attached to long poles. The warriors of the camp waited silently around the edge of the clearing, their faces solemn. They parted for them so that Salazar and the rest of his small warband could enter the clearing before they resumed their positions to complete the circle. All other fires in the camp seemed to have been extinguished, so the only light was that of the torches and the rise of the waning moon. A singular bonfire was assembled in the center of the circle as it waited to be lit. Silently, the warband took their places around the bonfire and faced the rest of the assembled camp.

Just on the edge of the clearing, Luna waited for them. Salazar had to say that he was not surprised to see her, though he did pause as he took in how she was dressed. She had donned an apron dress that was bleached white and about her shoulders was a smoky grey fur. Her blond hair was threaded with beads and braided in a crown about her head while her face was painted with the same black paint as the rest of them. The only difference was that the lines on her face had been drawn more delicately. A translation bracelet was wrapped about one delicate wrist and it glistened in the firelight as she held aloft a burning bundle of herbs wrapped around a small branch.

The smile on Luna’s face was serene and it settled something inside of Salazar. Come what may, but they would survive this. He had not been too worried, but it was still nice to have validation. “Come,” she bid them, her voice like bells on the wind. Beside her, a warrior brought a horn to his lips and blew a short blast. The very world around them seemed to still and hold its breath. Luna stepped forward then and made a close circle around them with the burning herbs. As she passed by him, it seemed to Salazar as if the flame leapt and reached for him. Luna gave him a smile and then stepped past him. Once she had completed her circle around them, she tossed her torch into the bonfire logs. They crackled and caught quickly as Luna took a step back.

Wordlessly, Luna made her way to the edge of the circle where a bowl waited for her. She bent down and lifted the bowl carefully before she returned to the circle of warriors around the bonfire. Salazar could feel the warmth of the flame against his back, but he did not fear that he would be burned. Instead, he looked down at Luna as she stopped before him. When she smiled at him, Salazar relaxed and closed his eyes.

“A stag we offered to Tyr, Lord of Justice and mighty warrior. Tis a creature of wind, so may you be blessed with the same swiftness in your sword and wand,” she said before she dipped her fingers into the bowl she held. She flicked her fingers at Salazar then so the blood speckled his face. “May this offering also bring Tyr’s strength and blessings upon you as you fight in his name, to bring balance and justice back to the land.”

“Hail to Tyr, mightiest warrior and fair ruler,” Salazar said clearly and opened his eyes as Luna moved on to Hilde. She repeated the blessing to the shieldmaiden before she moved on to Black. Salazar heard the man make a small sound when the blood was flicked upon his face, but he luckily did not make any protests. Salazar had tried to prepare the man for the ritual as best as he could, but it was very different to actually participate.

As Luna came to Hati, the last of their circle, she repeated the blessing before she turned away and held up the bowl of blood. “From the gods, to the earth, to us. From us, to the earth, to the gods.” She walked around their circle once more as she poured out the blood to return it to the earth. “A gift for a gift.”

Once the bowl was empty, Luna turned on light feet to face them once more. “Go forth,” she told them. “May the gods watch over you until you have returned to us.” As she spoke, the gathered camp parted before them to reveal a path out of camp. Salazar led the way to the edge of the forest. There, Black fished out a portkey that had been provided to him by Dumbledore. They all gathered around and placed a finger on the cracked teacup. “Creampuffs,” was the activation word that swept them away toward Bewaldeth.

Night had nearly fully descended upon them as they arrived on the outskirts of the quaint little wizarding village. Though there were lights in many of the stone cottages, there was a stillness to the air that was nearly unsettling. Salazar felt almost afraid to break the silence. Still, he took a breath and then dropped his shield against the ground so that it leaned against his leg. “Let us begin, then. Skoll, what do you have for us?”

Skoll grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Bewaldeth has extensive wards domed over it like most English magical settlements. The core function of the wards prevent the village from being noticed by muggles. However, they have since been altered to prevent apparition and portkeys from being of use within the village limits. The main mode of transportation directly in and out of the village is by the Floo network. Because of this, the deatheaters will be forced to appear in the outskirts just like we have. Our best course of action will be to bunker down here and spring a trap. This road is the only way in and out of the village on foot, so they will attempt to slip in under the cover of darkness.”

“We probably have until midnight before they arrive,” Black interjected. “Riddle always preferred to send out raids in the dead of night, as it was easier to catch witches and wizards unawares. We have some time to prepare.”

Salazar nodded his agreement and reached into one of the pouches on his belt. He pulled out a handful of small runic staves and then passed them out. “This is an extra layer of defense for the wards,” he explained to them. “They only last for roughly half a day, but it will be more than enough to get us through the night. The staves need to be driven into the ground on the perimeter of the village and will prevent passage through the ward line. Either by air or by foot. They will be forced through a single entry point if they do not decide to retreat.”

As he looked over their small group, Black frowned a bit. “When possible, aim to incapacitate and capture. However, they will not give you the same courtesy, so you can use equal force if necessary.”

Skoll nodded in agreement, his mouth set in a grim line. “They will be bottlenecked and forced through this single entry point. We will be set up on either side and laying low. With this vantage, we should be able to pick off a few of their numbers before they realize what is going on. At that point, they will either draw back to retreat or to regroup. If they regroup, we will create a shield wall. It will offer us protection as they advance.”

Black nodded, his expression thoughtful. “As a reminder, their force is likely to be somewhere between twenty and thirty strong. They are also not likely to be well organized. Riddle cares more about overwhelming force than intelligent minions.” A few of them snorted at that comment. Black gave a lopsided grin and then held up the staves that Salazar had passed to them. “Let’s get started.”

As the group dispersed, Salazar remained by the village gates. He looked back at the sleepy little village with its flickering streetlights and warmly lit windows. Smoke curled lazily from many of the chimneys, though not all of the smoke was grey. Some chimneys blew smoke coloured blue or green. Some were red and some were violet. He smiled and started to turn away, though he spotted a few dark storefronts along the cobbled main as their hanging placards swayed lightly in the breeze.

The path away from Bewaldeth was cobbled, just like the main thoroughfare, though it eventually gave way to a dirt path that was hidden beneath a packed layer of snow. On either side of the path, low walls of stacked stones from the surrounding fields were guides for the path as it eventually turned and disappeared into the rolling hills of the English countryside. Trees in their winter sleep, their boughs laden with snow, bent over in a canopy above the road. It was quiet, and cold, but so very peaceful. What a shame they would break the silence.

“Hey! Who are you!” A call broke the quiet almost like the crack of a whip. It came from behind Salazar and startled him. He turned then to find an old man in one of the cottages on the edge of the village. He stood upon his front stoop with his wand in hand, his door open behind him.

Salazar approached the man’s garden gate after he had moved his shield to rest against the village gate. “We were sent by Dumbledore,” he said as loud as he dared, though he used a bit of power in his throat to carry his voice without the need to shout. He did not want to rouse the entire village and cause a panic.

“You’re not his Order! You’re certainly not a no good Auror!” The man called back almost roughly as his hand tightened around his wand again. “I know that look! What are you Northerners doing down here in our village?” The tone of his voice was nearly hysterical and Salazar was afraid that the man was not about to listen to anything he had to say. Luckily, it was then that Black jogged up to join him at the gate.

“Hey, Mr. Redsmith! We did get sent by Dumbledore,” he said as he gave a little wave. “But, I’m surprised you’re up so late! Ollie always said that you were in bed by nine, you know!”

There was silence before the old man squinted harder to see them both more clearly in the faint light of the nearby lamppost. “Well, I’ll be. Is that Sirius Black? Why are you dressed like that, boy?”

Black looked down at himself and then flashed the old man a roguish grin. “Just blending in with my allies, Mr. Redsmith. They’re here to help us with our pesky Dark Lord problem. We’ll be protecting Bewaldeth tonight, so make sure you lock up tight and don’t leave until morning!”

“Oh, right, right,” the old man muttered and then gave Black a wave. “Yes, quite right. I’ll leave you to it then, boy.” He then wandered back inside and shut his door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Black rolled his eyes and turned away to head back out the village gate. “Went to school with his son Ollie,” he explained as Salazar followed after him. “He’s a good chap, but a little touched in the mind after a magical accident of some sort. Haven’t seen him in years, not since after graduation at least.”

“Well, I appreciate the help,” Salazar said as they came to a stop and waited for the others to return. “I think it would have taken me much longer to convince him to go back inside otherwise.”

“Yeah, probably,” Black snorted as he leaned back against the gatepost.

With a shake of his head, Salazar grabbed another couple of staves out of his pouch and then climbed up onto the stone wall so he could better reach the top of the gate’s arch. He attached one of the staves and then hopped down so he could do the same to the other side. It would create the break in their wards where the deatheaters would be forced to filter through. There was a bit of a risk in allowing the deatheaters to set even one foot in through to the village, but Salazar was confident that the benefits would outweigh the risks. Skoll had agreed with him.

“Hey,” Black interrupted. “What are they going to do with the stag?” The man had folded his arms over his chest and looked like he was resisting the urge to scratch at his face. “They didn’t kill it just for the blood, right?”

Salazar shook his head as he glanced down at Black. “The rest of camp is going to keep vigil through the night as they wait for us to return,” he explained. “The stag will be prepared and then we will all feast on its meat once we have safely returned from battle.” He adjusted the stave before he prepared to hop back down to the ground. “There were all sorts of various rituals that the Northmen had before they went on their raids or went into battle. The one we just experienced is one that has evolved in Fyrkat over the years. Blood is not typically given in offerings anymore, and definitely not ever human blood, but if an animal is sacrificed, not one part is wasted.”

“Do they fight each other often?” Black asked with a small frown.

As he dropped down off of the wall, Salazar spotted the others as they started to return towards the gate. While he waited, Salazar faced Black again. “Nowadays, all disputes are settled when they attend the þing. However, I have heard that mock battles have occasionally been held as a way to settle disputes out on the field rather than in a meeting hall.” He gave a small smile. “We can carry on the traditions of our ancestors, but we can also learn from their mistakes. Just because it is tradition, does not mean we are obligated to carry out harmful practices.”

Black looked thoughtful, but said nothing as Hilde was the first to reach them and she gave Salazar a grin. He greeted her before they waited for the rest of the others to join. Once they were all gathered again, Salazar removed one last stave from his pouch and looked each of them over. “All of the staves are in place?” Once he had confirmation, Salazar jumped over the wall and crouched to drive the stave into place through the thin layer of snow into the frozen ground. As he let go, the runes that had been etched into the wood started to glow a faint blue. 

As he vaulted back over the wall, Orvar crouched down to pick up a small stone. He then gave it a toss towards the village over the wooden fence. It impacted against the wards as they flared up around the impact point and rippled out like a drop in a pond. The stone dropped harmlessly to the ground. “Useful,” he commented before he hoisted his shield higher.

Skoll looked over them all before he nodded to Salazar. “If we have to do a shield wall, I want you along with Sirius and Hilde to be on top. So, Gunnarr, Orvar, and Eirik will go in place first.” Salazar nodded his agreement before he turned to Black to explain to him how the shield wall would work in how Skoll had described.

No one had any questions about the simple plan, so they took their places behind the wards and hid in places that allowed them cover but a good view of the road. Salazar looked over to Hilde and gave her a nod as she was closest to him. She gave him a little salute and then looked out over the road. Salazar smiled to himself and set his shield within easy reach, his sword loose in its sheath. Now, all they had to do was wait.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

No one had any questions about the simple plan, so they took their places behind the wards and hid in places that allowed them cover but a good view of the road. Salazar looked over to Hilde and gave her a nod as she was closest to him. She gave him a little salute and then looked out over the road. Salazar smiled to himself and set his shield within easy reach, his sword loose in its sheath. Now, all they had to do was wait.

Chapter Twenty-One

It was just past midnight when Salazar heard the soft cracks of distant apparition. He straightened and looked over to Hilde, where she gave him a nod to let him know that she had heard as well. He looked behind him then and made a motion to Black, who straightened and furrowed his brow as he listened. He gave a nod as well before he slowly pulled out his wand. Salazar could hear the others stirring as well as they waited for the Deatheaters to approach.

It wasn’t long before Salazar spotted the large band flitting through the shadows of the trees that were cast from the light of the waning moon. He had to say he was somewhat impressed that there was an attempt by the approaching horde to be somewhat stealthy. Their dark cloaks hid them well in the shadows, but they were given away by the moonlight that glinted off of the white of their masks. He did have to hand it to them though as it made for an unearthly scene, like spectres as they moved through the dark trees.

They would have known that they would not be able to transport directly into the village, so the Deatheaters approached on foot. Still, Salazar thought it was quite bold that they would walk through the front gate rather than make an attempt from any other angle. Perhaps it was arrogance that drove them, though Salazar would not pretend to understand. Whatever the motivation, it made it easier that their opponents were still blissfully unaware of just what awaited them. Black had mentioned how Aurors or the Order would either appear many minutes after the start of a raid, or else they would wait for them out in the open. The Deatheaters right now would operate on the belief that they were currently unopposed.

As the first of the Deatheaters stepped through the gates, there were several beats of silence. Salazar carefully removed his wand as he slowly counted to ten. He raised his wand then and made a sharp jab towards the ground at the feet of one of the five wizards that had made it past the gate. “Lateat lapis,” he intoned under his breath. The ground beneath the man’s feet surged and then dragged him down until he was encased in a tomb of stone. The man would be fine for now as long as he was released within a few hours, as that was how much air was available to him. His companions would be unable to release him quickly without the possibility of harming him in the process, so he was out of the fight.

The others went down just as quickly to spells from the others. Salazar recognized the spell that Black used to take one down as an Endless Sleep curse that would keep the wizard in a coma like sleep until he was administered an antidote. He would not be revived in the middle of a fight, at any rate. The origin of the spell had been in the medical field, but was now classified by the Ministry as steps away from a Dark Art even though it was not actually one of the Arts. Black’s roots were showing, though Salazar thought it meant that the wizard was coming to terms with his past. But now was not the time for him to muse over such things.

There were shouts of confusion from the Deatheaters as they immediately stopped in their tracks and backpedaled in a panic. There were a few cracks of apparition as maybe four of the wizards fled. Salazar did a quick headcount and thought he spied around twenty remaining. As the deatheaters scrambled back, Salazar flicked his wand to send the incapacitated wizards safely out of the way to be dealt with later. He then straightened fully from the position he had been in.

“Shield wall!” That was Skoll’s voice. Salazar reacted without much thought as he moved with the others. Black was the last to fall into place, but he quickly figured out where to go. “Hold!” There was a beat before Skoll snapped out another word. “Brace!” At the command, Salazar immediately channeled his magic into his shield just in time for it to absorb the magical retaliation that a few of the Deatheaters were smart enough to attempt.

A sudden howl broke the air and sent a shiver down Salazar’s spine. That had been neither Hati nor Skoll. It could only mean that the Dark Lord had sent at least one of his feral wolves on the raid and Luna had sent the twins on this mission for that very reason. Riddle’s feral wolves were similar to Fenrir in that they had given in to their wolven spirits. Fenrir had admitted that he had tried to coach several of them, but there were a few that had gone too deep. They had lost control over their instincts, so they were still at the whim of the moon and fell into bloodlusts when the moon was full. They had gained the capability of a partial transformation on nights where the pull of the moon was growing stronger, though outside of the forced transformations of a full moon. They would not be fully transformed wolves of a hulking size, but they were still incredibly dangerous. Fenrir had said they would not even listen to him, but they were the Dark Lord’s prized pets.

Salazar glanced over his shoulder and watched as the Greybacks transformed in response. The transformation was flawless and one could never guess that it was a new achievement learned from Agnarr and his pack. This was one of the few other things that separated werewolves, and those of the Northern communities in particular, from those like him who had a wolf animagus form. Hati and Skoll had taken on a form very different from their normal transformation. It was not unlike the partial transformation of the feral werewolves, but it was the complete form of this. The twins had taken on much of their wolfish features, but they still stood tall on two legs. In English, they might have been described as wolfmen. Even in their transformations, their clothing had remained. Likely provided by Angarr and the pack, it was enchanted to adapt to the changing form of the wolf that wore it. It would provide them with some protection, but also added to their fearsome image. It was this that had inspired many of the tales of the úlfhéðnar and it was easy to see why.

Beside him, Salazar felt Black shift restlessly. “What even is that?”

“I will explain later,” Salazar promised softly.

Behind them, Salazar heard movement before one of the twins barked out in a guttural voice, “Part ways!” At the command, the group immediately split and moved to the sides of the gate so that the twins had room to run through. As soon as Hati and Skoll darted past them, they reformed their shield wall.

Hati and Skoll would not be able to take out the entire twenty strong force, but they would be plenty strong against the three werewolves that had been sent to the village. “Hold!” Salazar called out to the others over the panicked yells of the Deatheaters. There were a couple more cracks of apparition, but the threat of going against the Dark Lord’s orders kept most of them where they were. “Brace!” Salazar called out the command when he felt the magic shift in the air. Their shields absorbed the few spells that a handful of Deatheaters were able to fire off. Over the sounds of the impact, Salazar caught the sound of a yelp. At least one of the werewolves had been dealt with.

The Deatheaters finally regrouped and advanced on them. Spells that went wild were absorbed by the ward dome, but then Salazar felt his shield warm in his hand to warn him that a Death Curse had been used. “Forward! May Tyr look upon us with favour!” He called out and was the first to break the shield wall. As they separated, Orvar remained back to guard the village gate. If the Deatheaters had started to resort to Death Curses, then it was safer for them to be on the move before their defences were destroyed.

Salazar kept his shield held before him as he moved forward at a steady pace. As he approached the group of Deatheaters, the others spread out beside him and back a few paces so they could advance like an arrowhead. The low walls on either side of them were easily passable, but their opponents were more likely to meet them head on rather than try to go around them. Hati and Skoll had forced their opponents into the open field, so they were not in danger of being on the wrong end of a werewolf’s claws.

“Kala!” Salazar drew on wild magic that was as icy as the winter cold around them. He could feel like a flash the echo of ice through his veins before a pale blue spell burst from the tip of his wand. One of the Deatheaters screamed as his legs were suddenly encased in ice and he fell prone to the ground. Salazar ducked out of the way of another Death Curse as he pushed through into the haphazard group of enemy wizards.

Bright bursts of spell light flew about him, more deadly than fireworks but just as mesmerizing. It was easy to fall into the rhythm of the battle. He might not have brought out his sword for this one, but he did not need it. And, just as he had told Black, his shield made for a good battering ram. He had certainly knocked out at least one Deatheater with it.

Salazar whirled about then and brought his wand up nearly into the face of another opponent. As a spell came to his lips, Salazar was close enough to watch as the blue eyes of his opponent widen almost impossibly. “Støkkva útan,” he intoned as he gave a quick jab with the intention to push his opponent back.

“Minuo!” The voice was that of a young man and the spell was nearly screamed, hastily thrown. There was desperation in the spellwork and Salazar suddenly thought that this was the young wizard’s first battlefield. He was likely not much older than Salazar himself, but Salazar realized in that moment that the young wizard would not grow to be any older. The curse collided and splintered under the force of Salazar’s own spell. Even as Salazar attempted to raise his shield, the fragments became arrows of light that rebounded upon the young Deatheater. Mutated from its original intention, the splintered arrows became explosive shrapnel that moved as fast as light. The spray of blood was warm against Salazar’s chilled face, but he did not have time to fully process what had occurred as he felt the shift of magic aimed towards his back.

“Hlíf,” Salazar said as he forced his magic into his shield. The runes began to glow and immediately a silver shield wrapped around him in time to intercept the curse that had been aimed at his back. The shield absorbed the magic before it shattered as Salazar released his hold on it “Ut gravibus,” he intoned next as he slashed his wand down. “Ligaturae.” He was on to his next opponent before the man who had attempted to curse him had even fully fallen to the ground, his arms and legs bound tightly.

“Retreat!” The word was screamed out over the chaotic battlefield. “Retreat!” The yell momentarily distracted Salazar, along with the crack of disapparition so close to him. The slip was only a fraction of a moment, but it was enough for Salazar’s reaction to the shift of magic to be a fraction behind. A spell the colour of gunmetal that sparked crimson slammed into Salazar’s back and stole his breath.

Even through the thick leather of his armour, from the point of impact, it felt like liquid fire had erupted. Salazar nearly dropped his wand, but he quickly gathered up a sizeable portion of his magic and tightened his grip on his wand until his knuckles turned white. “Cuir a-mach an rud nach buin,” he chanted beneath his breath as he barely spared the cracks of disapparition around him any notice. As he chanted the purifying spell, he forced his magic through his pathways from where they converged around his heart. It was a risky thing to be so distracted in the middle of a battlefield, but he had to dispel the corrosive magic of the curse. He was lucky that the Deatheaters were in retreat and Black had appeared at his side, was lucky that his armour had diffused the worst of the initial impact.

“You have a lot of blood on your face,” Black said as he looked Salazar over with a furrowed brow, a suspicious gleam in his eyes. “Actually, you have blood on more than just your face.”

As the cracks of displaced air finally faded and they were left on a suddenly too quiet battlefield, Salazar dropped his shield and nearly dropped his wand as a tremor went through his hands. “Blood has seeped into many places,” he said quietly with not enough air in his lungs. “One of my opponents panicked and attempted a Blood-letting Curse that rebounded upon him. It was rather messy.”

At Salazar’s explanation, Black’s nose scrunched up. “Yeah, I bet.” He gave Salazar another once over before he shook his head and finally decided that the younger wizard did not appear to have any life threatening injuries. “At least the blood isn’t yours, then. I was a bit worried for a second there.” Black clapped his hand on Salazar’s shoulder then moved away from him. Salazar took another moment to get his breathing back under control, then picked his shield back up and moved it over to lean against the wall instead. With wand still in hand, he went over to where Eirik had dropped down to sit on the wall and his shield abandoned next to him.

Immediately, Salazar could smell the sickly scent of burnt flesh. He frowned as he finally noticed the blackened skin of Eirik’s shoulder and upper arm. It was a serious wound, but his armour had likely saved him from something far more grievous. Though the air around them was chill, there was sweat upon Eirik’s furrowed brow. With clumsy fingers, Salazar sheathed his wand and pulled a vial from the pouch at his hip before he held it out to the older wizard. “Drink,” he ordered. “It will numb the pain.” As Eirik did as ordered, Hilde approached at a quick pace. Her hair was in disarray, but she appeared to be uninjured.

“I can take over,” she said quickly as she dropped her shield next to her father’s. “Are you injured, Herrick? That is a lot of blood.”

“It is not my blood,” he reassured her and collected the empty vial back from Eirik. “I want to check in with the others, but then I will return.”

Hilde nodded, but her attention was on her father. With Eirik in his daughter’s care, Salazar went over to Orvar and Gunnar. The two wizards had set their own shields aside and had started to gather the Deatheaters that still breathed. A number of them were injured, but nothing that would require immediate attention. Orvar had confiscated the wands of both living and dead, the magical tools stored in a box they had prepared for such a purpose. It was tucked away into a bottomless pouch then as Salazar approached.

Gunnarr glanced up at Salazar’s approach, but he quickly turned his attention back to the Deatheater before him. Their prisoners were each shackled, most of them still unconscious. A few had started to regain their wits, but they were all safely restrained. One wizard was wordlessly snarling, though it was obvious that either Gunnarr or Orvar had silenced him. Salazar ignored him as well. “You are both uninjured?”

“Should that not be a question that we ask you, Herrick?” Orvar said with some amusement as he looked over the still drying blood that covered a good portion of Salazar’s person. “Though, if you are on your feet with that amount of blood on you, I think I can safely guess that a majority is not your own.”

With a soft snort, Salazar looked down at his hands. “You would guess correctly,” he agreed. Black approached then, an unconscious wizard levitated before him. He dropped the Deatheater unceremoniously with the others before he looked over the rest of their prisoners, huddled together, wands confiscated and under guard. “There were some thirty odd Deatheaters that originally showed up. I didn’t get an exact count. Quite a number of them escaped, but Bewaldeth stands for another day.” He gave a tired grin and rubbed his hand over his chin. “We have eleven Deatheaters captured, which is more than we normally get. So there’s that.” His attention turned then to the few bodies that had been laid out. “All three of the werewolves are dead, along with eight others dead.”

When Black mentioned the dead, Salazar solemnly turned his attention to them. Eirik had been injured in the fight, but they had been lucky to otherwise avoid any other casualties on their own side. However, there had been inevitable death. “Are your wolf friends going to be okay?” Black suddenly asked. Salazar knew that Black was worried more if the blood would make Hati or Skoll lose control. It was a fair question, though Salazar did not believe there was any cause for worry.

“It is their first battle. Sleep will not come easy later, but their minds are strong. Agnarr and the other wolves, including their father, wait for them. They will see to it that Hati and Skoll are taken care of,” he said strongly. “Now, what are your customs for enemy dead?”

There was silence for a long moment, long enough that Salazar turned to look at Black. The man had a complicated look on his face. “We are not often faced with this,” the older wizard muttered finally. “We should put names to the dead, I suppose.”

Black seemed unsure, so Salazar placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Might I make a suggestion? We take down the names of the dead, as you said. Then, let us transport the bodies to a new location where we can set them on a pyre. Even our enemies deserve respect in death.”

“Why not send them back to their families?”

Salazar shook his head. “We will take the names of the fallen so that they will not be forgotten. However, if we were to send their bodies back, then the Dark Lord will only perceive it as a taunt. I do not think they will be returned to their families. Instead, if we burn the bodies, then at least they have had that last bit of respect. Even with differences in opinion, they are still humans just as we are. Once this war is over, we can give their families some closure.”

Black was quiet a long moment, but then he gave a grave nod as he fiddled with the charm wrapped around his wrist still. “Riddle likes to send us our dead back, though it is rarely ever in one piece.”

“It is better to not stoop to the tactics of our enemies,” Salazar responded. “Atrocities will happen in war and there is nothing we can do about the actions of the other side. We do things that we must to preserve our way of life, our view of the world. The most we can do is keep our humanity, respect our enemies as human even if we do not respect their agenda. Because, after all of this is over, if we have treated their loved ones with respect, the families of those who are dead are less likely to foster resentment towards us. At least not the resentment that cannot one day be healed.”

From beside him, Black gave a soft snort. “That is certainly true enough. I know I put some real thought about my position in the war when I was thrown into Azkaban without even a trial by people I thought had been friends. Luckily, where I ended up was that it was the Ministry that were idiots. Even considered Riddle at one point, but luckily he was a bodiless wraith by that point and he’d already exposed himself for the psycho that he is. So that thought was all of three seconds. Luckily I haven’t sunk into that dark pit of thought again.”

Salazar squeezed Black’s shoulder and then let go. “You made it out of that hellhole, Sirius Black. From what I have learned of Azkaban, that takes some real strength.” He stepped away from his godfather then and approached Eirik again. “Have Hilde take you back to Hogwarts and get that arm checked out,” he suggested. “We will all follow after we take care of things here.”

At the suggestion, Eirik looked like he wanted to protest. He eventually relented and gave a nod before he climbed to his feet and grabbed his shield with his good arm. “Entry through the gates, right?” Salazar gave a nod. Like Bewaldeth, Hogsmeade had been protected against direct transportation. The only points of entry into the village were by Floo, by the Nexus, or the gates of Hogwarts as they were between the castle grounds and the village. The gates were also the only reliable entrance to the school grounds, so they would need to use the entrance to come and go. Their portkey from earlier had been specially prepared by the Headmaster, keeper of the wards, to allow them out without being seen. It would not work to allow them back in, though Salazar suspected that Dumbledore might have hoped he could have swung that.

A few moments later, Eirik was gone with Hilde. Salazar then approached Orvarr and Gunnarr, though Black was not far behind. “Sirius, I am going to need you to help transport the prisoners. You said there is an estate in Wales that has been converted into a prisoner of war camp, correct? You are the only one of us who knows the coordinates. Orvarr and Gunnarr can help you keep the prisoners under control, but you will need to create portkeys to transport everyone.”

Luckily, Black nodded his understanding. As the wizard started in on his appointed task, Salazar moved away from the group and over to the twins. They stood together, quiet as they looked over the pile of dead. They had returned to their human forms, though they were easily the ones most covered in blood out of all of them. “Are you both alright?” Salazar asked softly as he approached them. He could not tell their thoughts by their expressions.

Hati was the first to react as he tore his gaze away from the bodies that were laid out. “What will happen to them?”

“Their spirits will hopefully move on to be with their ancestors,” Salazar responded first as he came to a stop. “As for their bodies, we will burn them on a funeral pyre. Will you help me? Hilde took Eirik back to the camp for treatment of the burn he received. Black is helping Orvar and Gunnarr with the prisoners.”

“Will we build a pyre here?” That was Skoll who had spoken up, though he did not drag his eyes away from the bodies.

Salazar was quiet as he regarded Skoll. Finally, he shook his head even though Skoll could not see the motion. “No,” he started. “We will take them to my property in Katanes. The land is unplottable and we will have privacy.” He did not want to build the pyre so close to Bewaldeth, something he was sure that the villagers would appreciate.

“How do you plan on transporting the bodies?” Hati had taken control of the conversation from his brother. Salazar wordlessly reached into his pouch and pulled out a scroll. He handed it over to the wolf and motioned for him to open it. “What is this? There are… runes in here? Ogham, right?”

With a nod, Salazar stepped closer to the laid out bodies. “Ogham, yes. It is a transportation scroll. It has a limit of perhaps twenty objects that can only be added one at a time. The size limit for each object is little larger than that of a human body. So, it has its limitations, but it is perfect for the task we currently need for it. Bring the scroll over here and spread it out over the ground to its limit.”

With the instruction given, Hati did as Salazar had said. He stepped back then until the dark haired wizard had him help move one of the bodies onto the parchment of the stretched out scroll. “Why not use magic to levitate the body?”

Salazar crouched down on one end of the scroll and removed his wand. “Because I must conserve what strength I have,” he explained. “Even though it only requires guiding the natural magic through my pathways, it takes my internal magic to help guide it. And, after that battle, my core has become severely depleted. Not dangerously so, but there is still much that needs to be done so I must be careful to ration my magic carefully. Besides, not everything needs to be done by magic.” Something in him wanted to do this by hand, to use the manual labour.

Once he had finished his explanation, Salazar turned his attention to the scroll and gathered a tiny bit of magic required to activate the scroll. In the next moment, the body on the scroll seemed to dissolve into light before it sunk into the parchment. Of the twenty rune markings, one started to glow with a soft light. That was one down, they had ten more to seal into the scroll.

As Salazar straightened from his crouch, Skoll finally moved from his position. He approached Salazar and stopped him from going to the next body. “Hold up. Why are your magical reserves so low? You are one of the more powerful wizards that I know. I am positive that you have an unnaturally large core.”

“I do not suppose I want to know how you could even guess that?” Salazar said as he evaded the question.

“Herrick. Do not use your silver tongue on me,” Skoll’s voice was harsh, a hint of a growl to it.

With a sigh, Salazar turned his head away. “I was hit by a curse,” he admitted. “One of the deatheaters managed to get in a lucky shot.”

It was barely more than a blink before he suddenly had both Hati and Skoll on either side of him. Skoll wrapped a large hand about his upper arm while Hati grabbed his shoulder. “What curse?” Skoll demanded. Both looked ready to drag him off for treatment.

Salazar hesitated to tell them, but finally relented. “The Stone Heart Curse,” he admitted to them. “But I am fine!” He hurried to reassure them when he felt tremors run through both of their hands. “I was able to neutralize the foreign magic and rebound the curse. It depleted a good portion of my magical reserves to do so, but I succeeded.”

“As soon as we return to camp, you will have Auðr take a look at you,” Skoll said harshly as another tremor ran through his hand. “That curse could have killed you!”

Without a word, Salazar pulled from their grip and turned to face the both of them. He was quiet another long moment as he scrutinized them. Finally, he gave a small nod. “I really am fine, but if it will ease your worries then I will let Auðr take a look at me.” Auðr was one of the camp’s medics, but also they were the partner to one of the úlfhéðnar. It was where Hati and Skoll likely had met them.

“I am fine,” Salazar repeated once more, but the twins only budged a fraction. They stepped around Salazar and let him be, but they would not let him help take care of the dead. They carried each body to the scroll and stored them until they had gotten each one. Hati then rolled the scroll back up and tucked it into his belt.

With the job finished, they approached him once more. “You have brought us to your homestead once before and I remember the destination,” Skoll told him firmly. “You will side-along with me.” Salazar scowled, but decided it was not worth it to protest. So he let Skoll rest a hand on his shoulder and disapparate them away.

When they reappeared, Salazar recognized the archway that led into his land. Without a glance to Skoll and Hati, he pulled away from them and stepped through the archway. As the structures that stood on the land shimmered into view, Salazar started down along the path before he made his way over to a hill that overlooked the stream which emptied into the small loch on the very edge of his property. He could hear the twins as they followed along behind him.

As soon as he tried to draw his wand, however, Hati reached out to stop him. “No,” he said. “Tell us what to do and we’ll follow it.”

Salazar was not happy, but he still did not have the energy to fight back. Instead, he breathed out an aggravated sigh and gave a sharp nod. “Very well. We need to construct a pyre here. Use a spell to construct a platform where we can layer down fuel, but large enough we can lay out each of the bodies.”

At the order, Skoll gave a nod and unsheathed his wand from a special holster on his belt. The wolf frowned in concentration before he brandished his wand. “Attollere terram,” he cast. Beneath their feet, the ground rumbled and then started to rise until it had created a large platform. “Constringo,” hardened the earth to something close to stone.

“Now, we need wood,” Hati said as he looked over his brother’s handiwork. Salazar nodded his agreement. “We could use a duplication spell if we can find at least one tree.”

Salazar turned and made a small motion. “You can find some pine or spruce over there,” he explained. “There are plenty of trees that you do not have to worry about duplication as burning would make a duplication unstable if not absolutely perfect. There is also sedge down closer to the loch and along the stream that can be dried out and used as fuel.”

Skoll gently clapped Salazar on the shoulder. “Sit tight and relax, Herrick. Let Hati and I take care of this.”

“Yes, of course,” Salazar said with a sigh. As the twins left to go gather the needed wood, Salazar sat down on the edge of the earthen dais to face the old stone hut and the crumbling foundation of the keep that never was. He had intended to build it slowly over the years with skills he had developed as they had built Hogwarts. He had barely managed to lay the foundation before everything happened. After this war was over, would he return here? Finish what he started? He was not sure.

The world around him was quiet as he looked down at his hands. The blood had all dried by now and it had flaked off of his hands. His hands were steady as he stared down at them, but then they gave a little tremor. He was more exhausted than he thought. With a groan, he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. At least he had a good meal to look forward to after they were done with all of this. A good meal, a hot bath, and his soft bed were in his future. Though he had promised to see Auðr once they returned.

Dawn was not far off by the time Hati and Skoll had prepared the pyre. The bodies were removed from the scroll and laid out next to each other. Though they were unhappy about it, Hati and Skoll stayed back as Salazar drew his wand. With a wordless spell to set the dry wood alight, it caught quickly and soon the flames leapt towards the sky so high that Salazar thought they might touch the stars. He shook off the silly thought and sheathed his wand once more. “May you all go on to your next lives and find the peace you never had in this life,” he said softly. It was not happy lives that brought these men to the choices they had made.

Hati and Skoll approached Salazar again as they came to stand on either side of him. Both were silent as they watched the bodies disappear amidst the flames. With magic as a fuel, the bodies would be consumed quickly. So, they stayed until everything had been consumed and only faintly glowing embers remained. “Let’s go home,” Hati said softly and wrapped his arm around Salazar’s shoulders. With blink, the three of them were gone.

When they appeared near the gates, it took everything in Salazar not to stumble as exhaustion suddenly bore down on his shoulders. Hati and Skoll exchanged a look over his head before Skoll pushed open the gates. He nodded to the Order member on guard duty as he ignored the look they were being sent. Skoll recognized that fiery hair, though he personally did not know the Weasley male. Luckily, they were let through without any hassle.

Salazar was sure that he would never have made it back to the camp without the guidance of the twins. He would have to apologize to them later, once he was not so focused on his steps one after another. The trip back to the camp seemed to take forever and no time at all. In one blink and the next, the camp was in sight and then suddenly he was seated before Auðr in their tent.

Though he felt sluggish, Salazar looked up at Auðr steadily. The healer looked back at him with a raised eyebrow and raised their wand. The tip of the wand glowed a faint light as they suddenly shone it into Salazar’s eyes. It was like the light was a physical entity and it stabbed straight through his eyeballs where it then pierced his brain. Salazar breathed in sharply and turned his head away quickly. The action made him sway, where he found that Hati and Skoll were still beside him when they caught him before he could fall.

Auðr tsked under their breath and flicked their wand to dispel the light before they set it aside. They reached out their hand then, palm up. “Arm,” they ordered quietly. Salazar hesitated, but then placed his arm in Auðr’s grasp. The healer removed the bracer around Salazar’s forearm and handed it off to Hati. Once the wolf had taken the leather bracer, Auðr focused back on Salazar and pushed up his sleeve. They picked up their wand once more and trailed it down Salazar’s forearm while they muttered an incantation beneath their breath.

Though he felt nothing for a moment, it did not take long before it felt like there was fire in his veins. Salazar jerked and tried to pull his arm from Auðr’s hand, but they tightened their grip and continued their incantation. “Hold on, Herrick,” Hati said to him as he switched back to English. Though both twins had become fairly fluent, English was still easier and they were likely too tired to continue translating themselves. Salazar could understand.

Another blink and suddenly the pain had passed. Salazar slumped back against Skoll, who stood behind him. Auðr pulled back and tucked their wand away before they stood up. “The Stone Heart Curse. It is about what it sounds like. The curse burns through the magical pathways in the body until it centers at the core, the heart. It poisons the core and hardens the heart, hardens the pathways. Without a core, without magic, a wizard dies a painful death.” Auðr made their way over to a chest and opened it up before they took out various vials. “You flushed out your body with your magic, correct? Yes, it was the proper thing to do. But, it wasn’t enough. You should have come sooner for treatment, Herrick.”

“We told you,” Skoll murmured as he helped Salazar straighten in his seat. The green eyed wizard did not have the strength to snark back. Instead, his eyes followed the familiar motions that Auðr made as they prepared a proper antidote and whatever else they deemed necessary. The healer brought them over then and fed each one to Salazar, who trusted the healer to know what they were doing. As he downed the last one, the heaviness that had settled on his shoulders seemed to have been lifted. He was still exhausted, but it was not such an unnatural feeling any longer.

As Auðr began to put away their tools, they glanced over to the three men. “You are the last to return. Eirik has already been treated and everyone now waits for you at the hall. I will not be long behind. Go feast and fill your belly.” They gave a smile then that softened their face. “Eat well and celebrate your victory. But I want you to be in your bed by midday. You need to sleep off the last of your exhaustion and to let your core replenish. No magic for the rest of the day. That is an order.”

With Hati’s help, Salazar was able to make it to his feet. He gave a small bow of his head and thanked the healer before he let the twins lead him away from the healer’s tent. When they entered the hall, there was a beat of silence before a great cheer rose up. They were soon surrounded by warriors who congratulated them on their victory. The other úlfhéðnar stole the twins away at some point, but Salazar figured he would see them again eventually.

The warriors herded him over to a table and Salazar soon found himself seated next to Black. The man had cleaned up somewhat and now only wore the borrowed tunic he had worn beneath his armour. “I heard you were taken to their healer,” the man said, the translation charm still wrapped around his wrist. “You seem to be in one piece.”

Salazar accepted a wooden cup of weak wine from one of the shieldmaidens and thanked her before he took a drink. With a sigh then, he set the cup down though he kept his hand around it still. There was a flurry of activity around them as platters of food were brought in and the warriors found seats. “I was treated for a residual curse,” he said simply as he looked down into his cup. With this action, he missed the flash of worry that sparked in Black’s eyes before the man shook it away and took a drink from his own cup. “I have been prescribed good food and a warm bed, though I will be sure to sneak in a good bath between the two.”

Besides him, Black snorted and took another drink as he leaned on the table. “Yeah, I might follow through with that as well. At least the blood is gone.” Salazar wordlessly nodded his agreement. Black must have used a freshening spell, similar to what Skoll had used on him before they had entered the hall tent. He had felt marginally better at any rate, though it would have to do until he could get a proper bath. “I saw Albus already when I came back with Orvar and Gunnarr,” Black continued suddenly and broke Salazar from his thoughts. “He’ll probably want a more detailed rundown of what happened, but I was able to give him the basics. He looked ready to drag me off to the castle again, but I managed to wiggle out of it. Gotta attend this feast, right? Celebrate our victory.”

“Probably a good thing he did not see how much blood I had been drenched in,” Salazar muttered as a platter was set down in front of him. Black snorted and nearly choked on the drink he had taken. Salazar hid a smile in his own cup.

A sudden silence caught his attention and he set his cup down to find the source. Luna had appeared in front of the hearth and spread out her hands to get their attention. By now, most had found their seats. As the hall became silent but for the crackling of the fire, Luna gave them a smile. “Our warriors have returned to us,” she said in a quiet voice that still filled the space around them. “They have returned to us victorious by Tyr’s blessing. So eat. Drink. Share together this meal as we partake in this feast in honour of the blessings we have received. Hail to Tyr, Lord of Justice! Skål!”

“Skål!” Was echoed about the hall as the warriors raised their horns and their cups. Laughter and speech around the hall resumed then as Luna approached Salazar and took a seat across from him.

As Salazar gathered food, Luna gave him a faint smile. “Not everything is laid out before me, the tapestry of the universe is never forthright,” she said softly. “The threads of the world are ever changing as they endlessly weave together and unravel, as new threads are born and others burn away to ash. The future is never certain, though there are times that I can see the threads that are strongest and will weave a tapestry of the likeliest outcome. Your threads quivered and I felt fear ripple out as a drop in a pond. Yet, you have come back to us whole.”

At her words, Salazar stopped and raised his eyes to meet hers. There were lines about Luna’s eyes, a clearness there that she did not always have when she watched things only she could see. “I survived,” he told her as he ripped a small loaf of bread in half and offered her a portion. “You should know by now that I am very hard to kill.” He gave a little smirk, which surprised a little laugh out of her as she accepted the bread.

With that settled, Salazar relaxed back in his seat and started in on his meal. There were various cuts of venison along with roasted vegetables and bread, along with a stew made of many of the same ingredients. Salazar had chosen some of the tenderloin along with an assortment of vegetables. He placed a slice of meat upon a section of bread he had torn off before he placed it into his mouth. With how hungry he was, anything might have tasted good. As it were, this meal seemed like the best thing he had eaten in a very long time.

Black stuffed something into his mouth as he watched Salazar. Once he had swallowed, he chased his bite down with a bit of his fruity wine. Once he had set his cup down, he picked up a slice of venison and rested his elbows on the table. “You have a lot of friends who would follow you anywhere,” Black observed . “You could be a third power in this war, couldn’t you?”

The question threw him for a loop, but Salazar responded quickly. “I suppose I could be,” he agreed as he shifted in his seat and settled his own elbows on the table. He tore off a chunk of bread and ran it through some drippings to soak it up. “I never wanted to be a leader, yet many of them look to me for direction. I am willing to work with the Headmaster, to be allies with you and those of the Order. However, I will put the safety of my friends and companions first if I think that the Headmaster’s choices will put them into danger.”

“Probably a good choice,” Black muttered before he stuffed another bite into his mouth. “Albus does what he can, but he’s still an old man. I wouldn’t put blind faith in him myself.”

Salazar gave a little smile before he was pulled into conversation by the shieldmaiden that had slipped into the empty spot on his other side. She was curious about details from the conflict, the runes especially once he mentioned how they had bolstered the wards. The witch ended up rather knowledgeable about wards and runes, enough so that Salazar was more than happy to debate with her over the intricacies of certain runes.

Though, that lasted only for so long. Other witches and wizards were not content to let him fade into the background. Salazar was approached by others that wanted to hear him tell his version of the story. By the time that the food was gone, Salazar felt utterly exhausted. It had been a long morning, but an even longer night. All he wanted now was a bath and his bed. So, Salazar excused himself. However, it was still at least another half an hour before he finally managed to escape and walk out the tent door.

With his trek to the castle and down through the dungeons, Salazar was careful to avoid anyone who might roam the corridors. He locked his door behind him and finally started to painfully strip out of his armour. “You have a new scar,” Eolas’ spoke from the bed, the serpent’s voice unimpressed. “What have you done this time, Salazar Slytherin?”

Salazar paused and turned to look over to where his familiar was coiled on his charmed cushion. Eolas had raised his head though and had leveled Salazar with his unblinking stare. “I will answer you once I have had the chance to get into the bath. I assume you will join me?” His familiar gave a nonsensical hiss that Salazar took as an agreement.

As Eolas uncoiled himself, Salazar finished undressing and made his way into the bathroom. There, he prepared his bath and then sank down into the hot water with relief. “Make sure I stay awake, will you? I do not want to drown in my own tub,” he said with a small smile as Eolas made his way up the tub and then draped himself over Salazar’s shoulders. The wizard gave a sigh then and closed his eyes as he breathed in the herbal scent that he had added to the bathwater. “It was a curse, I made a mistake,” Salazar finally said as he reached up to gently scratch under Eolas’ head. “I purged the magic long enough for me to see a healer. The scar is from where the magic made contact with my back.” The skin would be deadened, but luckily the scar was likely not very big. It was stiff, but small enough that it did not affect his range of motion.

“A mistake? I have not known you to make mistakes, Salazar Slytherin,” Eolas hissed in agitation. “That is a mistake that could have killed you!”

Salazar sighed and dropped his hand as Eolas continued to scold him. “Eolas, please. I know I made a mistake, but I am fine. However, I am exhausted. So, please, let me enjoy my bath.”

The serpent gave another wordless hiss, but settled down with his version of grumbles. Salazar smiled a little and leaned his head back. He remained like that, nearly lulled to sleep by Eolas’ soft hisses in his ear. Eventually, he roused himself enough to wash up and then climb out of the tub.

He might have cut it a bit close by the time he finally slipped into his bed and beneath the covers, but he doubted that it really mattered. He still made it into his bed just barely before midday, though his charmed window had been changed to show a night sky to make it easier for him to drift off into sleep. Eolas soon joined him in bed, though thankfully did not scold him further and instead coiled himself tightly atop his warming pillow. Salazar stroked his head gently a moment before he hugged his pillow and closed his eyes. It was barely moments later before he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

The course of the next month seemed to fall into a new, and steady, pattern. There were more of the Dark Lord’s raids that Northern warriors helped to fight back, though Salazar had only been on a couple more himself. The news of their allies’ presence had spread and the Dark Lord had thrown a spectacular fit, according to Draco. Especially once the madman had also realized that úlfhéðnar counted amongst that number, that they were stronger than his own feral wolves. Agnarr and his pack had been greatly amused by the news. They had also been greatly beneficial in their help with Hati and Skoll. After their first battle, the twins had needed the support that Agnarr had been able to give them. Fenrir had practically moved into the camp as well, and found a place among them. Even Black seemed to spend more and more time in the camp.

The school went on as normal with classes while Salazar started to occasionally help out with his classes again. He had missed the opportunity to teach so it was nice to be able to do something so mundane. He had kept up his duties as a Head of House, but his students had been fairly well behaved. He had needed to oversee a small number of detentions, but most seemed to want to keep their heads down. Nearly all of them had questions about the Northern warriors on the grounds, however. Dumbledore had wanted to keep the students separate, but Salazar had been more than happy to answer any questions. Dísablót was soon as well, the feast of new beginnings and honouring of female spirits. Dumbledore could not stop the warriors from celebrating their festivals and would be a simple task to sneak out anyone who wished to celebrate with them. Salazar looked forward to it.

They had made no more progress on the hunt for Hufflepuff’s Cup, but Draco came to find him a few days before Dísablót. The younger man looked haggard, but there was a bright look in his eyes as he slammed his hands down on Salazar’s desk. “I found it,” he said. “I finally found it!”

There could only be one thing that the blonde meant. Salazar was immediately on his feet. “The Diadem?” He had to be sure, but he need not have worried as Draco gave a sharp nod.

“Yes,” Draco reassured verbally as he straightened again. “Fred and George are guarding it for now, but I thought you would want to know about it immediately.”

“You would be right about that,” Salazar agreed as he grabbed his cloak. He wanted to get rid of the horcrux as soon as possible, but it would not be a good idea to call upon Hel while they were still inside the castle. So, he would take the circlet to the forest and hand it over to the death goddess there.

Draco followed close by Salazar’s heels as they hurried through the halls up to the seventh floor. When Salazar pushed open the door to the Room, he found it empty but for a singular table that contained a chest. Fred and George stood on either side of the table, their positions mirrored as they leaned against the table with their arms folded across their chests. They flashed him mirroring grins as they pushed away from the table.

“Hermione taught us a few little tricks. After we pestered Billie-boy, too,” the twins echoed each other with little snickers. “We’ve checked the tiara over and there doesn’t seem to be any extra surprises layered on. Just one rather agitated horcrux.” Salazar spared them a look and a raised eyebrow, but had long learned not to ask. Instead, he turned to the chest and cautiously opened the lid. “We put it in there, of course. A founder’s treasure requires a treasure chest, doesn’t it?” They cackled again, but Salazar ignored them. A little put out, the twins went to Draco and wrapped their arms around him. Fred’s arm was around the blonde wizard’s shoulders while George’s was about his waist. Draco himself lit up a bright red that plunged down beneath the collar of his robes. Salazar ignored them even as he hid his amusement.

When he laid eyes upon the Diadem, Salazar’s breath was taken away. Just like Godric’s sword, this was a little piece of Rowena. He hoped the enchantments that were upon it had survived the intrusion of the horcrux, but he was not so sure. Even if they had not survived, he hoped that the circlet did not crumble away into dust once the soul shard was removed.

Salazar quickly closed the lid again and turned to face the three wizards. He paused at the blush that had overtaken Draco’s face still, but decided to not address it. “Thank you, Draco. Thank you, Fred. George. I know you all put a lot of hours into the search for this artifact.” He would have to find Blaise as well to thank him for the time he had put in when he could to help. If not in the classroom, Blaise could be found here to help with the search or with the úlfhéðnar.

“Are you taking it to Hel now?” George asked as he rested his chin against Draco’s shoulder.

As he picked up the small chest and tucked it beneath his arm, Salazar gave a nod. “It is better to get rid of the horcrux as soon as possible,” he explained. “It will not take me long, but I have to make the trek down to the forest.” He paused then and gave a little smile. “Take some rest, Draco. You have done more than enough lately.” He gave a little smirk then as he looked over the twins. “Let your Weasleys pamper you.”

Draco’s face went red again while cheshire grins spread over the twins’ faces. “Oh, excellent idea, Herrick. Shoo! Off with you then!” Fred said as he tightened his grip on the Malfoy. Salazar was not about to stay to find out what they had in mind. Though he knew for all they liked to put on a mischievous act, they could be sweet as well. Draco could use a bit of sweetness.

With a shake of his head, Salazar turned and left the three young men alone. He silently made his way through the corridors of the school, his mind lost to aimless thoughts. He passed a few nameless witches and wizards as they roamed the halls, but they only gave him small nods of greeting as they passed. Salazar gave them polite nods in exchange before he moved on quietly. He adjusted his grip on the chest and continued on.

As he walked, Salazar thought about the upcoming Dísablót. It would be upon them in the next few days, though he had not had to worry about preparations for it. Hilde and the rest of the camp had assured him that they would take care of everything. They had also agreed to hold the festivities later at night so that it would be easier to sneak people out of the school. Dumbledore likely knew about the Northerners festivities and that those of Salazar’s immediate group would likely join them, but he would not approve of any of the students attending said feast.

Many of the witches and wizards who had attended rituals in the past had already expressed their interest in attending the Dísablót, however. Salazar was more than happy to help sneak them and their children out of the school. They would still be on the grounds, so they would be protected, but it was a good opportunity for the English and Northern magical communities to mingle. To get the attendees safely out of the castle under Dumbledore’s nose, Salazar planned to use the secret tunnels that led through the underground reservoir that he had used earlier on in the year. It may be a good idea, however, to make sure that the path was still passable. And he had promised to visit the Asrai again, which he still had not done. He had promised himself to bring them treats as well.

With the plan to visit the Asrai in place, Salazar focused on the trek down to the forest. Once he was in a little clearing, he breathed in slowly and prepared himself. He closed his eyes then and reached down into his core to search out the mark she had left upon him. “Lady of Helheim, I call upon you once more for I offer you another gift in accordance to our bargain.”

As the words faded away into silence, Salazar suddenly felt the heavy presence of Hel descend upon him. Even after having felt it a few times, he did not think he would ever get used to it. Like too much of a good thing.

“You finally called out to me again,” Hel said. “I had begun to worry.” There was no inflection in her voice, though Salazar could see the smile upon her face.

When she did not say anything else, Salazar bowed his head. “I ask that you forgive me, Lady of Death. This piece of soul was well hidden amongst many artifacts so it took time to find it. The two pieces that are left will be the most difficult, so it will take me more time.”

Even with his eyes lowered, Salazar could feel the weight of the goddess’ gaze on him. “I do not mind,” she told him lightly and stepped closer to him. She reached out then with her beautiful hand and hovered it above his cheek as if she had cupped it lovingly. “You will sit at my table one day, Salazar Slytherin. I look forward to that day, though it is long off. In the meantime, I enjoy the connection that we share. The longer it takes you to bring me the soul shards, the longer I may leave my mark upon you.” She pulled her hand back then and held it out instead. "Well, even then I will not abandon you."

At the wordless command, Salazar removed the Diadem from the chest and carefully placed it upon Hel’s outstretched hand. She took it quietly and looked over it before she plucked off one of the small blue gems embedded on the outside of the simple silver band. There was an unearthly screech, but Hel paid it no mind. She closed her hand around the gem and then held the circlet back out to Salazar. He hesitated only half a moment before he took the circlet back from her.

“I enjoy that I have stolen you from Arawn, who would have had you before,” she said suddenly. “After all, you are the rightful owner of two of his three Hallows. Even if you collect all of them, you will still be mine.” As the words seemed to echo in his head, Hel was suddenly gone.

Salazar let out the breath he had not known that he was holding as he dropped down onto one knee, his strength suddenly gone. Rightful owner of two of Arawn’s Hallows? He only knew of one! It looked like he would need to do some research into Arawn’s Hallows, though it was not a priority. One of the Hallows might be in the trunk that was still in Black’s possession, though Salazar was not about to request it back yet. He still had not told his godfather the truth after all.

With a heavy sigh, Salazar placed the Diadem back into the chest and then carefully climbed to his feet once more. It was always one thing after another. He turned then, but stopped abruptly when he saw Luna. She was wrapped in a blue cloak lined with white fur that fluttered lightly in the slight breeze. She carefully lowered her hood then and gave him a smile that spoke of the secrets of the universe. “She is right. You were once Arawn’s Master of Death.” Luna looked up towards the cloudless sky, her expression serene. “There are worlds where it means little but the acceptance of Death. There are worlds where it transcends and connects multiple realms. There are worlds where it gave you power over Death. In our world, it would mean the acceptance of Death and more. But you are not Arawn’s to take any longer. He watches you, but he will not interfere in Hel’s claim.”

“How reassuring,” Salazar muttered as he approached Luna. She only gave a soft laugh in response before she reached out to take his hand in her own dainty ones. “Why have you come to find me? And how do you even know what Hel said to me?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with mischief and she gave him a playful wink. “Communication doesn’t always have to be verbal, you know. Especially when it comes to the Gods.” She lifted his hand then and turned his palm up to look over the various scars he sported from years of potionmaking as well as sword training. “Dísablót is upon us,” she told him quietly then, her voice almost breathy. “It is where we celebrate the Goddesses and the Disir, our female ancestors who continue to watch over us.” Luna looked up to Salazar then as she wrapped her slender fingers about his wrist. “However. It is also the time of new beginnings.”

“I know this already,” Salazar said lowly, almost afraid to speak too loudly and break the silence around them.

The silence settled around them for a time as Salazar did not know what else to say and Luna only watched him for a long moment. Finally, she removed one of her hands from Salazar’s and raised it to place it against the same cheek that Hel had nearly touched. “New beginnings are a second chance, my dear Herrick. You must take it, no matter how painful it might be. There will be a chance for healing.” She took her hand from his cheek and placed it against his chest instead. “You know you do not have to follow my threads like an absolute order. It is not the end all, be all. The future is never set. But, dear Salazar, you know I love you. I only ever want what is best for you. I try to give you those tools in order to survive. To live and prosper.”

Salazar wondered just what was in his future for Luna to tell him such things. “I know, little sister,” he said quietly then and pulled his hand from Luna’s grip to wrap his arm around her instead in a hug. “I know.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head then and pulled away. “Will you come with me? I want to take this to my room and then head down to the kitchens. After that, I wish to show you something that you might enjoy.”

At his invitation, Luna looked up at him with doe-like eyes. Finally, she gave him a soft smile and took his hand. “Let us not waste any time then, dear Herrick.” Though she was petite and fae-like, she had a hidden strength that nearly pulled Salazar over as she suddenly tugged on his hand to get him to walk. It startled a laugh at him at the unexpectedness of it. Still, he managed to quickly recover. His longer strides allowed him to catch up and walk alongside her so she no longer pulled him along.

As they made the journey back to the castle and down to his chambers, Luna was more than happy to tell him stories about her fantastical creatures. Salazar took them with a grain of salt, though he was sure that a lot of her stories had hidden meanings within them. He was not about to dig into them though, content to just let Luna babble on.

When they reached his rooms, Salazar left Luna to wait by the hearth while he went into his bedroom to stow the chest that contained the circlet. He wanted to examine it, but that would be later. He was not quite ready to face Rowena’s magic again just yet. So he put the chest in a safe place and placed a few charms over it to keep it secure. Once he finished, Salazar returned to Luna. She gave him a bright smile over her shoulder before she twirled on light feet. “Down to the kitchens we shall go, but what do you expect to find?”

“Bannocks,” Salazar replied as he made his way over to the door and opened it up. He waited for Luna to walk out before he closed the door behind him and locked it. “With fresh butter.”

“Oh! My mother used to make fresh bannocks all the time,” Luna said happily as she threaded her arm through with Salazar’s. “When she wasn’t experimenting with her potions, she liked to be in the kitchen. We used to leave out bannocks for the faeries and their friends.” Salazar wondered if her mother had been a seer as well. Luna only gave him a smile as they started the trek to the kitchens.

It was Luna that was the one to open the door for them by tickling the pear in the painting. She stepped through the portal first, though Salazar quickly followed behind and shut the door behind him. He turned then as a house elf hurried up to them and worried its hands while it looked up with its large eyes. “Is something Dink can do’s for yous?”

Luna bent down and held out her hand. “Hello, Dink! Can you make some bannocks for us? We would like some nice soft butter to go with it, if you don’t mind.” She smiled then. “We are happy to wait over at the table.”

“Oh, yes, miss Loony!” The little house elf squeaked and ran off.

As she straightened, Luna gave a little laugh and then took Salazar’s hand to lead him over to the table. There, she let go of his hand to take her seat while Salazar sat down as well. As soon as they were both seated, a little house elf ran over with a tray suspended over his head. With a snap of his fingers, it settled down between them on the table. There was an assortment of treats and little sandwiches along with tea. “Thank you,” Luna said happily as she prepared a cup of tea. She then slid it over to Salazar before she prepared a cup for herself.

Since they had a bit of time while the bannocks were prepared for them, Salazar selected a little tart and took a bite out of it. Once he had swallowed it, he chased it down with a sip of his tea. “You can ask me, you know. Whatever it is that is on your mind. I know there is something,” Luna broke the silence before she took a sip of her own tea. When Salazar turned his gaze on her, she gave him a knowing smile.

With a sigh, Salazar leaned back in his chair and settled his teacup in its saucer. “Do you know anything about Arawn’s Hallows?” He asked finally. She knew about his apparent connection with Arawn, so she might know the answer about his Hallows.

Luna blinked in surprise before she settled her own cup down with a little clink. “Arawn’s Hallows?” Her brow furrowed a bit and she reached out to pick up one of the teacakes. She was quiet for a long moment as she slowly tore little pieces off of the teacake. “All little witches and wizards who grow up in the wizarding world know of the Tales of Beedle the Bard,” she said finally. “They are fairy tales and daddy used to narrate the stories to me with great theatrics.” She smiled one of her starry smiles, her eyes lost to the past for a long moment. “One of the stories spoke of three brothers who had encountered death and each earned an artifact of great power from him. Daddy always used to say that this story was the real deal, though many of the truths had been lost to myth.”

After she fell silent, Luna suddenly reached out and stole Salazar’s hand. She placed a finger against his palm and then drew out a symbol. It might have been his imagination, but Salazar thought that the strange symbol tingled faintly as she traced. He immediately recognized it for the symbol that was inside of the strange stone that allowed the wielder to speak to the dead. Luna released his hand then and sat back once more. “What is wholly truth and what is myth is known only to Arawn. However, what is known is that the three artifacts gifted by Death, by Arawn, are known as the Deathly Hallows. There are three of them, one each to the three brothers.”

As she picked up her teacake again to pull it apart once more, Luna continued in a soft voice. “Daddy is known to be… eccentric.” She gave a little laugh as if she had reacted to some private joke. “He taught me all about the little creatures that no one else knows exists. Of course, it took me a long time to separate his fantastical stories and those creatures that truly do live outside the view of most. However, this was one story he had always been most adamant about. He wears that symbol about his neck, says that there are others who believe the same that he does and that the Deathly Hallows will be reunited.” Luna raised her eyes from the torn apart teacake and gave a smile.

“What are the artifacts?” Salazar asked then as he picked up his teacup again. “I know about the stone, but there are two others and Hel said that one of those two rightfully belongs to me.” He trusted her enough to tell her this.

Luna smiled and gave a soft hum as she tilted her head. “In the story, the eldest brother asked from death for a wand more powerful than any other. He wanted a wand that always won and, so, was worthy of a wizard who had bested Death. For the eldest brother, Arawn gave a wand made of elder.” Harry Potter’s wand had been made of holly and Salazar had constructed his own wand. Luna gave him another smile, then she continued. “The second brother asked for the power to recall others from the confines of death. However, the stone given to him by Arawn could only recall their spirits for a time and it was not a true rebirth from death.” Salazar gave a small nod. He had the stone, he knew about that one.

“It’s said that the youngest brother was the wisest of the three brothers,” Luna continued as she dipped her finger in her cooling tea and swirled it around. “The story says that he did not trust Death’s gifts. So, he asked for something that would enable him to leave and not be under Death’s gaze. Arawn, who would always keep his word, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.”

Salazar paused then and furrowed his brow as he tried to recall Harry Potter’s memories. “James Potter had a Cloak that he passed down to his son,” Salazar said after a moment. “Normal Cloaks of Invisibility are woven from the hair of a Demiguise. However, the magic will fade over time until it is rendered useless. Harry Potter’s Cloak used to be his father’s and so that would make it, at a minimum, at least twenty-five years old. It would likely be older than that. If it was a normal Invisibility Cloak, the magic would have long degraded.” The only logical conclusion was that he was the owner of Arawn’s Invisibility Cloak though it was not currently in his possession.

In their silence, Luna suddenly broke it with laughter as she watched him. “There are many of the Gods who have their eyes on you. Through so many of your lives, many of them have reached out to you. You are always special no matter what life you have lived.”

“I doubt I ever wanted to be special in any of them,” Salazar muttered.

Luna laughed softly and shook her head. “In most of them, you would be right.” Salazar did not have the chance to reply as a house elf hurried over to them then with a covered basket. When Luna lifted the towel, she exposed multiple little bannocks along with a little pot of warm butter. Satisfied, she covered them back up and then stood. “Thank you for this,” she told the little creature and then turned to Salazar. “Well? What do you want to show me?”

Amused by it all, Salazar stood up and motioned with his head. “Come follow me and I will show you,” he told her. When she eagerly followed after him, Salazar opened the painting door and stood off to the side so she could exit. Once the door was shut behind them, he led Luna away from the kitchens.

Eventually, Salazar stopped in front of a blank span of wall. Luna gave him a curious look before she turned back to the wall and placed her hand upon it. Salazar remained quiet as he wondered if Luna was able to tell any difference with the wall. He was not disappointed as she trailed her fingers along the cold stone. “There is something here,” she said quietly. “Something secret.”

“You would be correct,” Salazar said as he placed his own hand against the wall and pushed a bit of his magic into the stone. Immediately, an array bloomed outward and glowed lightly around his hand. With the hissed incantation, the stones folded away to create an archway. The corridor beyond was crude and dark, only barely lit by the light from the torches in the dungeon corridor behind them. Luna’s eyes practically sparkled with curiosity as she stepped down into the hidden corridor. Salazar followed behind her and closed the archway behind them as he summoned a ball of flame into his hand.

Luna looked about the corridor curiously as they walked, but there was not much to see. “What is this place? Has it always been here?”

The woman’s cheerful and near innocent curiosity always seemed to be able to put a smile on his face. “I will show you where it leads, and it is certainly something that I created a long time ago. For the physical castle, at least.” He trailed his fingers along the stone wall for a moment before he dropped his hand. “Our destination is somewhere around the middle of the path, but the exit is in the forest. I created it as a safe passage out of the school if it was ever needed. However, I never had the chance to pass on the knowledge of it to any others.”

Luna gave a soft gasp then and looked over to Salazar with wide eyes. “You and I are the only ones who know of this place?”

“Yes,” Salazar said with a nod. “The incantation to activate the array is in parseltongue, but I am going to change it so that others will be able to open it as well.” If Hogwarts ever fell, he wanted the children and the refugees to have a possibility to escape. It was something that he should have done before, but it had honestly slipped his mind after everything that had happened. They were here now, so why let the chance pass him by?

The witch beside him reached out with one hand to weave her fingers through his, the basket still cradled close by her other arm. “You are a very kind man, Salazar,” she said softly and then focused on the walk down to the underground reservoir. When they came to the end of the carved out corridor, it opened to the large cavern. Crystals embedded in the walls were the only source of light they had beyond the flame in his hand, a soft blue light that seemed more like starlight or moonlight. They had soaked up the magic over the years that Hogwarts gave off, their light making the blue green waters of the reservoir glow in an almost ethereal way. Luna let go of his hand to dash out further onto the crude bridge, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, Salazar,” Luna breathed out as she gave a little twirl. “How absolutely magical!”

With everything she must see, must know but keep hidden, it was a wonder to see her appear so innocent. He supposed it was her way to cope. Salazar gave her a nod and watched her a moment before he moved over to the edge of the bridge. The water was so very close to the edge, he truly was going to need to put in some auxiliary measures just to be safe. Especially before the spring melted the winter snows into the loch, which would overflow into this reservoir deep below. He knew the magic, could do it while they were here as they was no better time than the present. Still, he wanted to introduce Luna to the Asrai first.

As he shook off his thoughts, Salazar looked out over the water. “Come out, my friends. I wish to introduce you to someone and we have brought some treats.” There was laughter around them before finally the Asrai started to peek out their little faces from the water. Salazar had the ball of flame in his hand move to hover above their heads so he had both hands free. Leaning against the railing, he watched as several of the Asrai clambered up from the water in search of the treats he had mentioned. A few looked at Luna curiously as she stared back at them.

“Oh, hello,” Luna whispered before she reached into her cloak and removed her bracelet with its translation charm. She slipped it on before she approached the railing and hopped up onto it, the basket settled in her lap. “I am Luna,” she told them gently and gave a cheerful little wave. “You are Salazar’s friends?”

Salazar watched as they started to gather around Luna, though they were still careful to keep a distance even as they tittered softly. Their voices blended with the distant drops of water that echoes in the cavern. Something about the scene around him seemed to ease the tension that had knotted up his chest. He was content to sit back and watch as Luna opened up the basket to pass out the bannocks to the Asrai. She would take out one of the little bannocks and spread a little butter over the top of it before she would pass it to one of the Asrai. The little creatures were cautious at first, but Luna had a bright smile and a gentle coax for each of them until they happily gathered around to get their own treat.

One of the Asrai made her way over to Salazar after she had gotten her own bannock. She settled down next to Salazar then and looked up at him with her luminous eyes. “You were gone so long, Salazar. So long it was nearly a lifetime.”

“It was far longer than a lifetime for a mortal,” Salazar responded with some amusement. “I never meant to leave for so long, but magic and the gods had other plans in mind for me.”

The Asrai made a little sound before she took a big bite out of her little bannock. She looked up at Salazar then with her little cheeks all puffed out, but Salazar was careful not to laugh at her. “You are not allowed to leave for so long ever again,” she ordered him as she waved her bannock around.

He could not make the promise in good faith because he did not know what would happen in the future, but he could not say no to the little Arai. “I will do my very best,” he promised her before he looked over at Luna again. “If anything, she will be sure to visit you again.” Luna seemed entirely enchanted by the Asrai. When he gave her the instructions on how to open the passage, he had no doubt that the witch would come visit the Asrai again.

“She is pretty,” the Asrai said as she looked up at Salazar. The wizard looked down at the little creature again and gave a soft laugh and a nod. Luna was certainly pretty, with an ethereal nature of her own. The Asrai likely picked up on Luna’s diluted elven blood and it was possibly what attracted them to her. “She can come visit again.” It was said with a haughty tone for such an earthy voice. Salazar tried not to laugh.

“I am glad she can. I thought you would like her and I knew she would like you,” Salazar said as he straightened up from the railing. He turned then to sit on it instead, crossing his arms over his chest. “There was something else I wanted to let you know. Luna is the only one who will know that you all are in here, but I need to open up the passage to others. They will not know you are here, so they will not disturb you.” The Asrai huffed as she stuffed the last of her bannock into her mouth. “I promise you will not be disturbed. I will put boundaries up on the bridge to keep it safe from the rising water, but also keep them from damaging your waters. Just as a precaution.”

The Asrai gave him a suspicious stare, but then gave a nod in agreement. “We will trust you, Salazar Slytherin, just as we always have,” she said softly before she jumped into the waters and disappeared. When she returned, she held out a little crystal to him. Salazar carefully took it so that he did not touch the creature’s bare skin. An Asrai’s touch was cold enough to burn a human’s flesh. “Remember your promise.”

“Thank you,” Salazar said as he held up the crystal to examine it. There was nothing too special about it, though it did faintly hum with absorbed magic. It had no special abilities, though it seemed like a piece of Hogwarts that he could always carry with him and feel her magic even if he was very far away. It glowed with a faint light, a pretty bauble and little more. He carefully tucked the crystal away into his pouch as the Asrai darted away once more.

Luna appeared to have the Asrai enthralled with her stories, so Salazar took the opportunity to slip away. He summoned a new flame in the palm of his hand and continued down along the corridor until he reached the rough stairs that led to the surface. He climbed them slowly, lost in his thoughts, until he reached the little cavern that served as the entrance. The runes etched into the walls and floor of the cave glowed as he passed them and stepped into the clearing of the forest.

The small clearing was on the very boundary of the wards. He stepped up to the wards then and lightly pressed his hand against them. On their expedition through the forest, they had been able to pass through the wards because of the strange properties of the woods. They could be seen as weak points in the wards, but they were specific locations that were ever on the move and could not be found by accident. Firenze had led them through one such portal, one of the reasons why they had been lucky to have a centaur guide. Salazar himself could have found the waypoint, but it was far easier to have their guide do it.

In the past, he would have been able to pass through the wards at any point because of his level of resonance with the school. However, since they had strengthened the wards, he too had been restricted. He had once used this clearing to simply walk through the ward boundary, but that was no longer possible. If they had to use this exit in an emergency, the centaurs would be quick to find them and would lead them through the portals so that they could apparate away. Even though grown mages would be with the refugees, centuars did not harm children. The centaur would hold up their long held agreement with Hogwarts anyhow.

Salazar removed his hand from the ward barrier and watched as the ripples faded away. He turned then and returned to the cave to inspect the runes that were engraved into the stone. He had to refresh a few of them, but they still worked as intended. If they did not recognize the magical signature of the entity that attempted to gain access, they would not activate. If they did not activate, then the cavern was simply a small alcove in the stone. Salazar had ensured that the secret passageway into the school was heavily protected.

With this end taken care of, Salazar returned back to Luna. She was still surrounded by the Asrai, but the mood seemed to have quieted. When Luna greeted him, several of the Asrai started to return to the water and disappear. They slowly filtered back into the reservoir until Luna and Salazar were alone on the bridge. “Did you enjoy my surprise?” He asked her softly as she stood up and dusted off her cloak.

“You know I did, Herrick,” Luna said with a soft laugh as she looked out over the water. “Thank you. I would very much like to visit them again.”

He had known that she would like it and had known she would want to come back again. “Of course. I will change the entrance so you will be able to come see them again. Before that though, I need to protect the bridge,” he said as he looked over the entirety of the structure. Luna nodded her understanding and stood back as Salazar pulled out his wand. With a deep breath, Salazar reached down into himself and gathered up a portion of his magic. He pointed his wand towards the ground and directed his magic into the stone beneath his feet. Immediately, he could feel the wild magic start to entwine with his power. Salazar braced himself then and started to pull it up from the ground. He used his wand to weave the magic through the air and anchor it to the railings of the bridge.

“Clypeum tollo contra aestus. Contra aquas frigidas stabo in aeternum. Ego teneo et consisto, quoniam aquae non obstabunt,” Salazar chanted slowly as he guided the deep magic that flowed beneath the castle. 

From not too far away, Salazar could faintly hear as Luna whispered the incantation in English just after his use of Latin. “I raise a shield against the rising tide. Against the cold waters I shall stand for eternity. I hold fast and stand strong, for the waters shall not stand in my way.” Any language could be used to build a spell, but some occasionally worked better than others. Hermione probably understood the theory behind it.

As Salazar lowered his wand, a green shield like spiderweb shimmered into existence before it faded away. He could still feel the anchored magic on the very edges of his awareness, but it was invisible to the naked eye. The magic had exhausted him but he had anchored it into the same magic that cycled within and below Hogwarts, so it would stand as long as Hogwarts remained.

Luna came up to Salazar then and wrapped an arm around his waist. “You silly man,” she said softly. “The magic is stronger here from what you remember. You keep forgetting that, don’t you? Next time, let someone help you. Well, a good nap and you will be good as new, so at least you will not have anyone else scold you.” Salazar snorted softly and wrapped his arm around Luna’s shoulders.

“It is not as bad as that,” he responded. “And I do not need you to support me.” Still, he did not mind her being so close. So, he held onto her as he led the way back up the corridor as the ball of light floated above their heads. When they reached the wall that separated them from the dungeons, Salazar placed his hand upon the stone and gathered up a bit of magic. He murmured beneath his breath then for a long moment before he dropped his hand away. The light of the runes faded away, but the door did not open.

When Luna looked up at him in curiosity, Salazar smiled and nodded at the blank wall. “Place your hand against the stone and gather a bit of magic in your palm. When the runic array flares around your hand, say the words ‘Tha sàbhailteachd air thoiseach’,” he told her.

“What does it mean?” Luna asked quietly as she placed her palm against the cold stone. She carefully sounded out the words and repeated them several times.

“A rough translation would be, ‘Safety lies ahead,’” Salazar explained. “I thought it was fitting as this can be used as an emergency escape from Hogwarts, if it is needed. It exits into a clearing in the forest not far from the boundary line.” Luna gave a nod and then closed her eyes. She focused for a moment and then whispered the passcode to open the archway. The stones of the wall trembled in reaction before they started to fold away to create the archway. “Well done,” Salazar praised her and led her through. “To close it again, just channel your magic into the archway once more and will it to close.” The wall became solid once more after only a short time.

Luna gently patted the wall and then turned back to Salazar. “Thank you, dear Herrick. You showed me something absolutely wonderful.”

“And you gave me answers to questions that I did not think that I would have right away,” Salazar responded.

With a smile, Luna gave a playful little curtsy before she blew Salazar a kiss. “Go get some rest,” she told him with a soft laugh. “Dísablót is soon upon us and things will no longer be so quiet.”

As she disappeared off down the corridor, Salazar gave a soft sigh and ran his fingers through his loose hair. He knew that the quiet had to end eventually, but it had been nice enough while it had lasted. If it had not been for the occasional raids, the last month had almost felt normal. It was not something that he was very accustomed to, though his life as Salazar Slytherin was probably the closest he had ever felt to being normal.

Something small suddenly barrelled into his legs and nearly knocked him off balance from the surprise. He looked down quickly only to find a small child had plopped down onto her bottom. She looked up at him with wide brown eyes, a soft colour like that of a doe.

“Maiwenn!” A young witch ran up from behind him, her face bright with worry. “Oh, Professor Evans! I am so sorry!” She quickly scooped the little girl up into her arms. “I turned my back for only a moment and she got away from me.” She looked down at Maiwenn and scolded her softly as relief coloured her tone.

“It is alright,” Salazar interrupted softly and then held out his hand. The little girl could not be older than two or three. Children of that age were surprisingly slippery and ever curious. Salazar summoned some lights in his hand like little fireflies. He directed them to lazily fly about Maiwenn’s head. The little girl gasped in delight and quickly grabbed for the lights only for them to dance out of her reach. “I do not suppose that she has started to show signs of accidental magic?”

The young mother huffed softly and settled Maiwenn on her hip, the little girl fully distracted. “Oh, yes. Definitely. She’s started to summon toys and the like.”

Amused, Salazar chuckled and gave a nod. “I can ask the house elves to help keep an eye on her,” he offered. “If she does get away from you again, they will be able to bring her back to you before she can get herself into trouble.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” the witch breathed out in relief. “Thank you so much, Professor Evans.”

Salazar gave a little wave of his hand. “It is no bother at all. And, please, call me Herrick. Are you new to the castle?” She looked too young of a mother to have a child old enough to attend Hogwarts, likely not long out of Hogwarts herself. So, she would not have likely arrived with the first of the refugees. He did not recognize her anyhow.

The witch blinked in surprise before she flushed. “Oh, um, yes. My name is Katarin Morvan,” she introduced herself. “My younger brother still attends Hogwarts, but I was only just able to request asylum. I arrived with Maiwenn just last week. We have a room here in the dungeons.”

“I am glad you were able to find refuge here,” Salazar said then and gave her a small smile. Her brother must be in Slytherin. “Are you going to be celebrating Dísablót?” He asked her curiously, though careful not to give anything away. They still had to be careful about who they shared the knowledge of their rituals with.

However, Katarin brightened and gave a quick nod. “Oh, yes! My father has been here since the beginning and has attended. He invited me along and I am very much looking forward to the festivities. It will be Maiwenn’s first large gathering.”

Salazar was glad to see that Katarin’s worry had vanished. “I must know your father then. You mentioned your surname is Morvan, so Erwan Morvan would be your father?” He knew the man in passing, and had met him at the previous rituals. The man was a stoic type, quiet and intelligent. He could see now that Katarin looked very much like her father, so he was not surprised when she nodded. “He is a good man, from the little I know of him.”

The young woman smiled and gave another nod. “He also says that you are a good man, Herrick,” she said quietly. “You were the first one to look past the fact that we are Slytherins and understand that not all of us support the Dark Lord. You let us come here to safety rather than hide from both sides in the war for fear of being mistaken for traitors. So… thank you. I owe you my life and I owe you my daughter’s life. I can build a better life for her now.” Katarin gave a little bow and then hugged her daughter close. “Thank you,” she said again before she quickly said a goodbye and left the way she had come, embarrassment lightly coloured on her cheeks.

Though he felt amused by her abrupt departure, Salazar could also say that he felt touched by her thanks. Small differences could eventually lead to large changes. It may take a long time, but he liked to think that he had thrown the small pebbles that would eventually cascade into large boulders. Even if he did not survive this war, he hoped he had still made a difference that would benefit future generations. With a smile unable to be wiped from his face, Salazar turned and made his way towards his chambers. He could actually use a good nap after the eventful morning and it was nice to have the luxury of being able to do so.

The next few days went by without incident until the morning of Dísablót had arrived. Salazar had woken up on edge, though he could not put a finger on why that might be. He wanted to assume he was somewhat anxious over what might happen that night during their festivities, especially with Luna’s vague prophecies, but that did not seem like a complete answer. Whatever the case, it would not do to sit in his room and agonize over such things. So, Salazar dressed and made his way up to the Great Hall for breakfast. They had not gathered that morning for sparring as they had known they would have a late night, so Salazar had not seen any of the others yet.

Breakfast had already started that morning and Salazar was somewhat surprised to see that Dumbledore was in attendance along with Black. Though Black was not part of the school staff, he could often be found at the Head table for meals. However, both he and the headmaster had often not attended breakfast in the mornings lately as they would either be in early morning meetings about a previous night’s raid, or they would be recovering from a late night emergency regarding the Order. Though Salazar was not a part of the Order, nor did he have any desire to be, the Weasley twins were fairly quick to keep him updated on the frequency of meetings. They could not readily discuss what happened during such meetings, but it was easy enough to track some of the Dark Lord’s movements by the frequency or timing of Order gatherings. If both Black and Dumbledore were in attendance at breakfast, then it must have been a quiet night.

Salazar took a seat between Luna and Blaise. The witch gave him a smile that made something squirm in the pit of his belly, but she said nothing and instead offered him a bowl of oatmeal. Salazar thanked her and dished himself up a filling bowl of the oatmeal along with some cooked fruit. As he drizzled some honey over his concoction, Blaise slid over a mug of coffee for him. “I’ve known you long enough now to know that you need your cup of coffee in the morning,” the werewolf said with a grin.

“Never used to be that way,” Salazar said with a roll of his eyes, but accepted the mug with a soft word of thanks.

With a snort, Blaise picked up his own mug and took a sip. “Oh, I certainly remember. I seem to recall that you always ate as if you had never seen food before,” he said quietly, barely a murmur around the rim of his cup.

“I thought only Draco watched me,” Salazar retorted just as quietly.

Blaise rolled his eyes now. “Oh, please. You must know by now that the entire student body watched you.” He said it playfully, but Salazar only hummed his agreement. He certainly did understand the way things worked now even if there were still plenty of memories that were still hazy. However, there were plenty of memories that had finally returned and it was large enough that he had resorted to occlumency meditation to help him sort through it all so it was not a jumbled mess. He might have gone mad from the overload otherwise.

“Professor Dumbledore!” The call rang through the Hall and it went silent but for a few whispers. Salazar quickly turned from his conversation with Blaise as the Headmaster stood, watching as one of his Order members hurried towards the table. When the wizard did not say anything more right away, whispers started to fly about the Hall at a louder level. Salazar thought he recognized the wizard as one who had been on guard duty at the gates, so he wondered what sort of situation had started to unfold. The Dark Lord had not started a siege, had he?

The wizard slapped his hands on the head table as he struggled to catch his breath. “Professor…” the man wheezed. Salazar thought he had probably run all the way there from his position at the gate. “There’s a man. A man at the gate. He doesn’t speak a bit of English, but he keeps trying to force his way onto the grounds. He’s ranting and raving about who knows what, but I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to hold him back.”

Dumbledore wordlessly started to round the table while Minerva had stood from her own seat. She had started to call out for the prefects to help guide the other students back to their commonrooms. She also suggested that the refugees made their way back to their suites as well, to wait for any further instructions. Salazar stood as well to help direct his students back down to the dungeons, but Luna stopped him when she placed her dainty hand on his arm.

“We have this here,” she told him. “Go. Follow the Headmaster.” So he did.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

Dumbledore wordlessly started to round the table while Minerva had stood from her own seat. She had started to call out for the prefects to help guide the other students back to their commonrooms. She also suggested that the refugees made their way back to their suites as well, to wait for any further instructions. Salazar stood as well to help direct his students back down to the dungeons, but Luna stopped him when she placed her dainty hand on his arm.

“We have this here,” she told him. “Go. Follow the Headmaster.” So he did.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Salazar could hear the yells before he could even see the gates, the voice distantly familiar. As he abandoned all sense of decorum, his quick footsteps turned into a run. Dumbledore had kept back most onlookers, so it was only a handful of Order members that had reached the gate. Black was among that number as he had followed on the headmaster’s heels. They stood opposite of a man, disheveled and shabby. The man’s mane of hair was matted and tangled, his beard unkempt. But no matter how much the wizard resembled more of a bear than a man, Salazar would always recognize that red hair and those light green eyes.

“Godric! Cease your raving!” He called out even as he pulled out his wand, unsure of how the redhead would respond. This was not an ideal situation and he knew he was about to out himself in front of Dumbledore and a portion of his Order. Luna seemed to know the situation, so hopefully she would send some of their friends after him. It would be good to have some people fully on his side. Salazar pushed past through the last of the few wizards that stood outside the gates. “Godric!”

Everything seemed to come to a standstill as Godric immediately went silent. The Order members shifted restlessly and Black had looked to him sharply, but Dumbledore still cautiously watched Godric. Salazar ignored them all, his gaze on his once friend. He had heard the story by now, of course, of how his brother had poisoned their minds against him. But he had also heard of Godric’s madness, so he had no idea what to expect of the wizard. It was one thing to hear of Godric’s delirium, another to actually see how unkind time had been to the man. Though it did not even begin to explain how Godric was here.

When Godric caught sight of him, the man’s face first slackened in shock. It was then that relief and disbelief appeared at war in his expression. “Salazar,” he breathed out and shoved his wand into a beaten leather holster at his side. He stepped forward as he reached out to Salazar, face pale and eyes wide. “Is it truly you?”

“Herrick? You know this man?” Dumbledore spared him a look from the corner of his eye as he interrupted the conversation.

Salazar grimaced and took a steadying breath. “Headmaster, though he may not look like much right now, I would like to introduce you to Godric Gryffindor, founder to Hogwarts.” There was dead silence around them as Salazar’s words were processed. Even Dumbledore looked speechless. In the next moment though, Salazar had to stare down Black’s wand.

“You lied to me,” the man said tightly. “He called you Salazar. If he’s really Godric Gryffindor, then that makes you Salazar Slytherin. Are you actually on Riddle’s side? Are you a spy and this was all a ruse? I was starting to trust you!” Black’s hand was steady, but he snarled the words and he looked furious. Salazar wanted to close his eyes and breath out a slow sigh, but he did not dare take his eyes off of Black.

Before Salazar could reply in any manner, he caught movement from the corner of his eye. Godric was practically growling as he advanced on Black. “How dare you threaten him! You will not harm my brother!” Salazar quickly threw his arm out and gave the redhead a sharp glare.

“Contain yourself, Gryffindor. There are things here that you do not understand,” Salazar snapped. If they were not careful, things were going to go very wrong. Luckily, he spotted a few welcome faces as they hurried down the path. Salazar quickly looked back at Black as he was the largest threat at the moment. Dumbledore’s face was locked down and serious, but he had not yet drawn his wand. Salazar sheathed his own. “Look, I will explain,” Salazar told Black as he held up his own palms. “I will tell you the entire story. But not here, not out in the open.”

“Godric? Herrick, what is going on?” That was Einar’s voice. Salazar wanted to breathe a sigh in relief.

With a quick glance over to the elf, Salazar made a small motion with his head. “Can you handle Godric? You are the only other one right now that he recognizes and can communicate with,” Salazar asked in English so the other wizards would understand his intentions. Einar gave him a nod before he turned to Godric and started to whisper furiously with him as he attempted to calm him down.

With that taken care of for now, Salazar turned his entire focus on Black and Dumbledore. “I know you have so many questions, but I want you to know that I do not mean you or the school any harm. Just give me a chance to explain myself.” He took a breath and glanced back at Godric briefly. “Please, let me take care of him first. He is not well. If I have any idea what has happened, it would be that he has traveled a long way and has pushed himself well past his limits.”

“Sir? I can vouch for him,” Hermione spoke up as she stepped up to Salazar’s side and placed a hand against his arm. She gave him a reassuring smile and then planted her feet as she looked back to the others around them. “I already know the answers to a lot of your questions and I can tell you that he is absolutely not a threat. Just give Salazar a chance to explain, please.”

Salazar placed his hand over Hermione’s but did not look at her. “If you need to, we can set up a tent on the grounds. A neutral gathering place until I have had a chance to explain and, in the meantime, I can tend to Godric well enough in the Northern camp.” He gently squeezed Hermione’s hand, his heart a rapid drumbeat in his chest. “I have been here for half a year, Headmaster Dumbledore. In that time, have I ever given you any reason to distrust me?”

Finally, Dumbledore gave a small nod. “We will do as you say, then. But only if Sirius accompanies you.” He gave Black a look before he leveled his stern gaze on Salazar once more. “We will also provide the neutral space where we can meet, so I will give you no more than an hour to take care of him. Until we have sorted things out, Hogwarts is barred to you.”

“Of course, Headmaster,” Salazar said evenly as he gave a small bow to hide the flash of fire in his eyes. If it came down to it, he would like to see Dumbledore keep him out of his own school. As he straightened, he spotted Black as the wizard angrily sheathed his wand once more.

When Black spotted his gaze, the man all but bared his teeth at him. “I trusted you,” he snarled and then made a sharp motion. “Lead the way, then. I won’t let you out of my sight.”

It hurt. It honestly hurt even though Salazar knew just what his godfather was feeling, knew that he deserved the man’s anger. He should have told him the truth sooner, but now he paid the price for his cowardice. “I am truly sorry,” Salazar whispered, then turned to Godric and looked him over. “What a fool you are, Godric Gryffindor. Come on. There is a healer that can look you over and you look like you are in desperate need of a good bath.” He could feel the heavy gazes of those around him as he helped lead Godric through the gates and towards the camp. He thought it was shock and confusion that kept them back, but it would not last long. Rumours were going to start flying soon too.

Godric watched Salazar with wounded and foggy eyes, but luckily he was pliable and it was easy to lead him off towards the camp. “What is going on, Sal? Where are we? That is Hogwarts, but that is not Hogwarts. The world is so strange. Salazar…” Unable and unwilling to respond, Salazar grit his teeth and continued to lead Godric along. He could feel Black’s glare against his back still and he was lucky enough that he did not have a curse to replace it.

As they entered the camp, Salazar ignored the curious looks of the warriors as they sat in front of their fires or stood in the doors of their tents. He could not deal with the scrutiny right now, but he was lucky that none of the warriors approached them. When they arrived at Auðr’s tent, the healer stood up and looked Godric over with an experienced eye. “Come in and sit down,” they instructed sternly. They did not take no for an answer and even went so far as to grab Godric’s arm to lead him to a cot. “Sit still,” they instructed firmly, then removed their wand.

As Auðr took over, Salazar moved back to the entrance to the tent. Hermione immediately wrapped him up in a hug. “Oh, Herrick.” She squeezed him tightly. “Are you okay? I can’t believe this is happening! You must be in shock,” she rambled as she loosened her hold and looked up at him sadly. “Whatever happens, we’re here. Luna was letting everyone know and they’ll support you. No matter what happens, you know we got your back, right?”

Salazar did not have a chance to respond as there was an audible growl from behind them. “You knew who he is, Hermione? Why do you still insist on calling him Herrick?” Black snarled the words, still absolutely filled with barely contained anger.

“Because that truly is one of my names,” Salazar responded as he gave Hermione a reassuring squeeze and then stepped back from her so he could face his godfather. “I will admit that I should have come clean to you about all of this before now, but I was a coward. Just give me a chance to explain, to make everything make sense.” Salazar dragged his hand through his hair then, his fingers catching in the braids. “I will answer everything, I promise. Just… history is far different from what you’ve been taught all of your life.”

Hermione reached out and took Salazar’s hand. “Fred and George are bringing the Marauder’s Map, if you think it will help at all,” she told him gently. “Is there anything else we can grab for you?” She gave Black a quick look before she turned her attention back to her friend.

Though he was about to shake his head, Salazar stopped. There was something that he could use to prove his words, far better than the Marauder’s Map. “Arawn’s Hallow,” he said softly. He did not enjoy calling on spirits of the dead, disturbing their rest. However, those he would call on would not mind it. “Ask Luna to bring me Arawn’s Hallow. She will understand and know how to grab it for me.” Hermione hesitated, but she nodded and gave Salazar another quick hug.

Before she left though, she turned to Black and gave him a glare with her hair as flyaway as ever. “Don’t do anything you’ll later regret, Sirius Black. You’re hurting right now and I understand, but you don’t have all the facts. You’ll give him a chance to explain everything first.” She wagged her finger at him before she turned on her heel and hurried off. Salazar tried not to snort at her overprotective antics, but did not think it would be too well received by Black.

Salazar spared Black a quick glance before he went to see how things were going with Godric. Auðr looked to be in the process of shoving several potions down Godric’s throat. It was a scene so familiar that his heart ached. It had been months since the last he had seen Godric and things had not ended well between the two of them. Yet, even with all of that, he still thought that he would never see Godric again. Actually having Godric here was something he never thought would actually happen, not even in his wildest dreams. It honestly felt like he was in a dream.

“How is he doing?” Salazar asked Einar softly, the elf off to the side as he watched over Godric and made sure he did not try to escape. He knew of Godric’s record with healers, after all.

After he spared Salazar a glance, Einar gave a sigh. “Not well. Auðr says that he nearly depleted his entire core, that he has other injuries as well such as malnourishment and severe sleep deprivation. He has some broken ribs along with severe bruising over a majority of his torso,” Einar listed off before he trailed off with a sigh. “Auðr is giving him an assortment of potions at the moment. I do not think you will get Godric’s story just yet as he will need rest before you can interrogate him. I will remain here and keep an eye on him.”

Unsurprised by the extent of Godric’s injuries, Salazar gave a sigh. “Yes, I suspected so. I had known that he had descended into madness, had stopped taking care of himself. Thank you, Einar.” He squeezed the elf’s shoulder and then turned back to Black. “We will need to leave him here for now while he recovers. I cannot even begin to understand what brought him to this time, but whatever it was nearly depleted his magic. He will be safe in Auðr’s care, so we should leave him be for now. I am willing to answer all of your questions now, if we return to the others.”

“I still don’t even know if I believe you or if that man is in the middle of some delusion. All I know is that you are tied up in this somehow and you lied to me,” Black snapped back as he bared his teeth in a soft snarl.

Salazar tried not to sigh. “I have woven truths with half-truths together, and have omitted truths. When I first arrived, I may have told a few lies grounded in truths, but would you have believed me or given me a chance if I had told you outright that I am Salazar Slytherin? I had to protect myself in a world that was foreign to me.” Black did not seem like he could listen to reason right now. Salazar knew he should have spoken to his godfather sooner.

“Herrick? What is going on?” Salazar turned to find Hilde had jogged up as she fastened a cloak about her shoulders. She looked concerned as she peered past him into the tend. “Who is that man?”

Though he knew that he would have Hilde and the rest of her camp on his side, Salazar gave her a shake of his head. “He is an old friend, one I never thought I would see again. He is badly injured, but in the care of Auðr. His mind is not well because he has been under strain. Have Auðr keep him sedated for the time being and I will explain everything as soon as I am able.” He gave her a weak smile then. “Trust me?”

“With my life,” Hilde shot back without hesitation. “We have your back, Herrick. Let me take care of things here.” She spared Black a curious and concerned look, but then ducked into the tent to check in on things there.

With her gone, Black made a sharp motion. “Go on. Get moving. If you’re done, then they likely have the tent up by now.” Salazar nodded and turned to walk out of camp. He did not like that he kept needing to turn his back on Black, but he had little choice and had to believe in his own abilities in case Black impulsively lashed out. So, he kept his mouth shut and quietly made his way from the camp.

Once they reached the open grounds, Salazar spotted a small tent that had been set up. It was a dark blue in colour with gold stripes, as a small little flag waved merrily in the winter wind. A few wizards milled about it, though Salazar could not recognize any of them from a distance. Even so, he thought he could count fourteen of them. As he and Black approached, the mages seemed to spot them and then made their way into the tent to wait for them. Salazar wanted to drag his feet, to put off the moments that he knew he was coming. As they came to the tent, Salazar paused before the door and closed his eyes for a brief moment. He had dreaded this moment for a very long time.

With Black’s noticeable impatience behind him, Salazar took a breath and stepped into the wizarding tent. What he stepped into was like a meeting hall in a castle. The floor was stone and the walls appeared like stone with enchanted windows of stained glass that showed moving celestial bodies. A chandelier hung from the beams of the vaulted ceiling, with candles that flickered with a pale yellow light. It was warm in the space, heated by the large hearth at the far end of the hall. In the center of the hall, beneath the chandelier, was a long unburdened table surrounded by high backed chairs. Dumbledore was already seated at the head of the table, the lit hearth behind him.

Black pushed past him and shot him a quick glare, then he went to take a seat next to the headmaster. Salazar took note of the others that were already seated around the table, some of which he recognized and some of which he did not. At least a few of the faces he recognized were friendly ones, such as Hermione and Bill. Fred and George sat on the end of the table, on either side of the last open seat.

As he approached the table, Salazar pulled out the chair and then rounded it but did not take a seat. “I am willing to take an oath,” he said clearly as he focused on Dumbledore. “I swear upon my magic that everything I speak of my story is the truth as I know it.” When the headmaster nodded, Salazar took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I will answer any questions that you have for me, but I only ask that you hold them until I have had a chance to say my piece.” He had taken the walk to get his thoughts in order, but he still felt uncertain of just where to start.

Before he could say another word, the door opened once more and Luna stepped in. She gave a smile to the assembled magicals and then approached Salazar on light feet. She reached out then and placed a small pouch in Salazar’s hand. “Whether you are prepared or not, the truth must come out,” she told him softly. “All of it.” She gently patted his cheek then and turned away. “I will check in on your brother,” she said and then she was gone.

Salazar closed his hand around the little pouch and gave a little smile. Well, that certainly answered that. With the stone clutched in his hand, Salazar turned back to Dumbledore. “I have many names,” he said. “I am Salazar Slytherin. I am Herrick. I am also… Harry Potter.”

The silence that fell around them was deafening. For a time, Salazar wondered if they had become broken. Many had their mouths fallen open and Black had paled to nearly a deathly pallor. “No,” Black croaked out. “That is impossible.” Black’s words broke the silence and suddenly the tent was filled with voices as they shouted to be heard over the other. Salazar stood silently and looked over to his companions who were also silent. Each gave him a little nod, though Hermione smiled thinly.

“You’re crazy!”

“...Spy sent to confuse us!”

“...you really think we’d fall for such…”

All sorts of accusations were thrown at Salazar before suddenly a large crack startled them into silence. Dumbledore lowered his wand and then tucked it away again into his sleeve. “That is certainly quite enough,” the old man said evenly, though his blue eyes never left Salazar. “Those are some bold claims. What proof do you have for any of it?”

Thankful that Dumbledore had brought his Order back under control, Salazar opened up the small pouch that Luna had given him and then carefully tipped the Stone into his palm. “I have been made aware that most witches and wizards know the story of the three brothers, correct? That they were each gifted an artifact from Death which have come to be known as the Deathly Hallows. This stone here is one of those Hallows, though I know it as Arawn’s Hallow because it is the deity Arawn who gifted this to one of the brothers. It has the power to recall the spirits of the dead for a time.”

“Show me,” Dumbledore requested, but it was not a suggestion. Salazar rounded the table and held it out to the old wizard. The headmaster lifted it up to the light then as he inspected the otherwise normal looking stone. “It has the mark of the Hallows,” he observed finally before he handed it back over to Salazar. “Very well. Show us, then.”

Salazar inclined his head before he returned to the other end of the table. He closed his hand around the stone and focused. After a few moments, there were several gasps from along the table and Salazar knew that the stone had worked once more. He turned a little and gave the two spirits behind him a faint smile. “Helga. Rowena,” he stated softly. He had not seen them since Samhainn. Helga floated in closer and reached up with her weathered hands to hover them over his cheeks.

“You called for us, Salazar?” She asked softly, her eyes sad. Salazar knew her well enough to know that she wanted to hug him, but the limitations of the stone and death prevented it. “You look better than you had at Samhainn,” she decided as she let her hands drop down next to her sides.

“I have had some time to heal,” Salazar said softly before he half turned again. “My friends, I have summoned you here as witnesses to my character and validation to my words.” He was lucky that Minerva sat beside Dumbledore as she would be able to easiest understand Helga and Rowena. “Most of them do not speak the same tongue as you and I, but the lovely witch in the dark green robes will be able to translate.” He looked down towards where the woman sat. “If you are willing, Minerva? They cannot protest if such a trustworthy witch as you translates instead of me.”

A faint blush came to Minerva’s cheeks, but she quickly cleared her throat and gave a prim nod. Salazar could detect a faint wariness deep in her eyes, but he was lucky enough that she seemed to be willing to give him a chance. Salazar thanked her softly and then turned his attention towards the rest of those gathered. He did not need help to translate this part. “May I introduce to you all Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw.”

“Are they really? It’s not just some ploy?” The loud voice was not one that Salazar recognized. He gave the woman a quick glance before he turned to translate the questions to the spirits of his friends.

Helga immediately seemed to puff up in indignation and waved her hand at Salazar. “We have learned well enough from the dead to understand English words, though we cannot speak it well enough on our own. But that’s not important,” she huffed and gave the questioner a small glare. “It is your choice to not believe us, but we would not lie to you. We most certainly are Helga and Rowena!” She paused then before she drew herself up. “How impertinent,” she huffed out. Salazar had to hide a smile. Though Helga looked like an old woman now, she was still as feisty as ever. Perhaps even more so. “Whatever you thought you all knew about us, you can abandon such stories! Oh, the things I have heard from the newly dead.” There was hesitation from Minerva, but then she started to translate.

Before Helga could continue with her diatribe, Rowena placed her hand upon the witch’s shoulder. She then glanced at Minerva before she leveled her stern stare on the other assembled mages. “Even after the thousands of years that humanity has practiced magic, we still do not understand all of its mysteries. Salazar Slytherin is a good man and we are the ones who failed him.” Minerva gave her a sharp look, but still translated Rowena’s words. It brought startled murmurs from various Order members. “What I mean is that he is truly Salazar Slytherin and he is a more honourable man than anyone of this time has given him credit for.”

Once Minerva had translated the words for the rest of the assembled group, there were a few protests that were raised. “Okay, say we accept that he’s Slytherin. How can you say he is honourable? It’s his fault that this war is even happening!” Salazar grit his teeth and took a breath, but did not respond. Helga practically puffed up again and Salazar thought she might have held her breath if she still had the ability. She might have actually cursed the wizard if she had been able, but it was lucky for him that she could not. Rowena squeezed Helga’s shoulder again before she gave the wizard a very icy glare.

“Salazar is a good man, no matter what you think of him. He never hated mundane born children and he never hated mundanes themselves. It was a product of our time that we all were understandably wary of those without magic. It was well after our time that the witch hunts occurred in Britain and Scotland, but it did not mean that we were safe either. It did not mean that mundanes were more understanding towards their magic bearing children,” she lectured coldly. Salazar could only begin to imagine what sort of things they had heard from the dead of these hunts. Rowena looked over to Salazar then and her expression softened. “I know Salazar saw it more than the rest of us. Most of the first Slytherin students were mundane born. Their plight tore at his heart.”

His story was about to come out and it was a wound he did not like aired. He wanted to speak of it on his own terms. So, he held up his hand. “Thank you, Rowena. Let me tell them of Cayden myself.” He turned his eyes on Dumbledore then and met his gaze. “Headmaster Dumbledore, if you remember, when I first arrived at Hogwarts, I told you that I had grown up on an old estate in a fen and that I had the journals of Salazar Slytherin. I mentioned that he had never had an heir himself, but had a brother named Cayden. I do not believe many of those there at the time believed me.” He took a breath then, though his gaze never wavered. “I later told you how my parents had died when I was young and that I lived with my brother until madness overtook his mind.”

Dumbledore inclined his head slowly, his expression controlled. “I do recall such stories, yes. You killed your brother.”

Salazar tried not to flinch, though he flexed his hand as he sensed the restlessness of the two shades behind him. “I twisted truth together with some lies, yes. The full truth is this…” He paused and glanced over to Hermione, who gave him a faint smile. Salazar gave her a little nod and turned his gaze back on Dumbledore. “In my own timeline, it was over ten years ago now that I woke up without my memories. I encountered a boy my age who told me his name was Godric. When he asked for my name, I could not recall it until a name came to me. I took it as my own and became Salazar Slytherin. He taught me the language and we traveled together for a time. We met Helga first when we saved her from bandits. Later we encountered Rowena and became good friends. Together, we decided we wanted to establish a school. Rowena’s family owned land that we took control over and established Hogwarts.”

When he paused a moment to gather himself, Salazar felt Rowena and Helga both drift closer to him. “There was a boy by the name of Cayden. He was mundane born and came from a troubled household. I was… reckless. I wanted to help him and there was not much that we could do. So, I blood adopted him as my brother.” Salazar closed his eyes briefly and then looked back at Dumbledore once more. He continued his story then as he described Cayden and the memories he had of his brother. Helga and Rowena gave their input every so often as they backed up his words. Salazar struggled, but he described his brother’s hidden madness and the duel where he was forced to kill Cayden. He trailed off then, unable to speak any longer about it.

There was a heavy silence around them, but Salazar could not meet their eyes as he placed his hands on the table before him. “When I returned to Hogwarts, I was fortunate enough that you did not turn me away. Not that you would have been truly able to banish me, Headmaster Dumbledore,” he said with a quick smile at the elder wizard, though it did not quite reach his eyes. His smile disappeared then and breathed out a sigh. “It was then that I learned about Tom Riddle, that he liked to think he was a descendant of mine. I learned that Cayden, my brother, could have only sired a child and his line had produced one of the most powerful Dark Lords of history. I learned that it was my fault that the magical world still suffered over the ridiculousness of blood supremacy.”

“It was not your fault, Herrick!” Hermione interrupted as the words burst out of her. Salazar’s eyes darted to his friend and he gave her a fond smile. She scowled at him in response. “Don’t you take that look with me, Salazar Slytherin! You did everything you could for your students and your brother! You can’t control the idiocy of others, so none of this is your fault!”

Salazar held up his hands in a placating manner, but he did not say anything as Helga floated around the table towards Hermione. “Oh, I like this young lass,” she said. “Minerva, would you be a dear and tell her that I am thankful that she has been watching over our dear Salazar?” Salazar tried not to blush as Minerva cleared her throat and relayed the message. Helga really had not changed much, though old age had only made it worse. The Hufflepuff founder gave Salazar an innocent smile as she mimed gentle pets of Hermione’s head.

With a suppressed sigh, Salazar tore his gaze from them and turned back to Dumbledore. “Whether or not it is my fault, Tom Riddle was still of the Slytherin line even if it was not through myself. I am still the Head of the Slytherin family and that gives me some power. So, I disowned Tom Riddle.”

The twins on either side of him started to cackle, seemingly unable to help themselves. “Oh, you didn’t tell us that tidbit, Sal!” They wheezed out through their laughter. George wrapped his arms around himself while Fred dropped his head onto the table. “Oh, we should have guessed!”

As he rolled his eyes, Salazar did sigh. “Yes, I took away the Dark Lord’s ability to speak Parseltongue and thus no longer allowed him access to Parsel magic.” He went quiet and there was not a word from any of the others gathered, though Salazar spied Helga’s smug face. She would be proud over something like this.

“We had speculated that Riddle had somehow lost the ability, that the madman was putting on some sort of act to fool his followers. Malfoy said as much,” a grizzled old man grumbled from next to Dumbledore, Minerva’s vacant seat between them. Salazar had seen him around and had vague memories of the same man from the last school year he had still been Harry Potter. Alastor Moody. Honestly, the man had some incredible luck by the look of things. And that was both in the Northern and English definition of luck.

Black leveled a glare at him and crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright, fine. Say we do accept that you are actually Salazar Slytherin, raised from the dead or whatever some sort of shit. How the hell does that have any connection to my godson?” He demanded as he slammed his fists down on the table.

“I believe that is our cue,” Rowena interrupted primly. She stared down at Black and then lifted her chin a little. “I will have you remember that Salazar gave an oath that everything he said about his circumstances are true. That alone should be enough to believe his words. There was no need for us to have been called here, yet we are happy to be here to offer our support to our friend. That being said, there should not be any doubt that he is Salazar Slytherin. And Salazar Slytherin is a good man.”

Rowena gave them her stern glare before she turned her attention towards Salazar. Her expression softened and she reached out to gently touch his cheek, though Salazar felt only maybe a small cold brush. “Being on this plane, forced through the veil, it is not a pleasant experience. However, it has been too long. Call for me again sometime, Salazar?” Salazar could only nod his head in agreement as Helga bustled over as much as a spirit could.

“And you better not forget about me, Salazar Slytherin!” Helga said with a huff, though her eyes were sad once more. “We hope to see you again soon, but I better not be able to actually hug you for a long time yet.”

Somewhat uncomfortable, Salazar gave her a little smile. “I understand. Farewell,” he told them softly and then let them go. He took a deep breath and then gave Minerva a little nod. “Thank you. I appreciate your help in this.” She gave him a stiff nod in return and then returned to her seat. Salazar held back a sigh as he turned his gaze back on Black. “I apologize, but they were not needed for this part of the story.” He paused a moment as Black’s snarl seemed to widen. He had not seen the man this angry in a long while. Salazar wondered if part of it was denial. “I told you already. I am Harry Potter. Or, at least, that was once my name even though I am not the boy you remember any longer.”

“No, absolutely not!” It was definitely denial, Salazar decided as Black continued to rage. “You said you lost your memories over ten years ago, but my godson has only been missing for nearly six!”

Salazar tightened his grip around the stone again. “Time does not flow in a linear way, though I doubt we will ever really understand all of its complexities,” Salazar said softly, just loud enough to be heard. “I was gone ten years in the past while you all only lived five.” Ten years that passed in a blink of an eye, where they accomplished so much in a short amount of time. Salazar only wished he could have been there to see Hogwarts really start to thrive as a school. “When the Dark Lord attacked my aunt and uncle’s house after my fourth year, the magical explosion sent me to the past through the will of the Gods and magic. It robbed me of my memories, so I rebuilt my life. When I returned here, my memories have slowly returned to me. There is still much of my life that I do not remember, and what has returned I do not remember in a successive flow.”

As he continued to speak, Salazar noticed that Black had started to look very pale again. A number of the other witches and wizards looked pale as well as they started to fidget in their seats. Dumbledore himself had started to look all of his years, while Minerva looked as if she had tears in her eyes. Salazar looked back to Black then as he summoned his parents. There were several gasps and various outcries from the table as many of these mages had personally known the couple. Salazar ignored them all as he turned to face them and relaxed when he saw the looks of pride that were on their faces. He had worried in some deep part of his mind that they would not like that he had summoned them forcefully.

Lily floated closer to him as she ignored the others for now. “Oh, my grown up baby boy,” she said softly, just for Salazar’s ears. “You have made us so proud.” She gave a smile then, tears like crystals in her eyes. “We met your brother, you know. Cayden is such a sweet, but damaged boy. Death has changed him, just as it has done to all of us. If you call him brother, then I am happy to love him as my son.” She leaned up to give him the cool whisper of a kiss against his cheek. Salazar watched then as his mother’s expression hardened as she moved around him and then phased right through the table to approach Black.

“Your mother was always known for her temper,” James said in amusement as he hovered his hand above Salazar’s shoulder as more of a show of support than anything else. “Besides the horrors of war, her temper was the only other thing that I was truly afraid of. Just watch the show and let her take care of things.”

Salazar gave a nod and thought that it was a wonder that Black was even still conscious as Lily loomed over him. “Sirius Black. Did I or did I not have Reggie pass a message on to you when my Harry used the Stone for you? I specifically said that you are not to blame Harry, that he will approach you in his own time. His choices are not for you to judge. Those exact words.” Even as an intangible being, she held a terrifying presence. If not for the situation, Salazar might have been amused.

As he seemed to shrink under the redhead’s glare, Black’s eyes darted over to where James stood beside Salazar. “Lily, I…” But Lily had already turned on Dumbledore.

“And you, Albus Dumbledore!” Salazar really had to hold back a snort by the shellshocked look that flickered over the old man’s face. Especially when his father actually started to laugh next to him. Lily ignored her husband as she attempted to poke a finger into the headmaster’s chest, only for it to phase through him without resistance. “I told you. I told you that if anything were to happen to us, he should be raised by anyone but my sister! We both regretted the way we had parted ways, but Tuney was always too proud. She would never be able to care for my son in that household, not with her husband and her pride in the way. I specifically told you, Albus Dumbledore!”

More than one of the gathered mages shifted in discomfort as Lily berated the headmaster. Only Salazar’s friends seemed more amused by it, even justified. “I only did what I thought was best, Lily,” Dumbledore tried. “Harry was safest with a muggle family, one outside of the wizarding world where no one would think to look for him. Deatheaters hunted for him in revenge for their master. There were blood wards for his protection-”

“Protection!” Lily cried out. “What was best? My baby boy was raised in a loveless home! And those very same wards, Albus Dumbledore, were the reason my son was sent to the past! They did not stop Voldemort from finding him!” She looked like she wanted to slap him, but then she drew herself up and quickly turned to float back over to Salazar’s side. “Of course, I am very proud of you. My son, the founder of Hogwarts,” she told Salazar softly with a radiant smile on her face. “I just wish I could have saved you from the pain.”

Salazar shook his head and gave his mother a little smile in return. “My life has shaped who I am,” he told her softly, just for her to hear. “The pain is what has tempered me into something stronger, cliche as that line may be.”

At his statement, both his parents laughed. James gave his son a wink before he lifted his head to face his old friends and companions. “We have told Herrick about the Prophecy,” he said without a care for how Dumbledore might respond. “The full extent of it.” His gaze drifted over to Black then as his expression changed. “I am disappointed in you, Sirius. You were always the most reckless of us all, but that doesn’t change the fact that we trusted you to take care of Herrick when we asked you to be his godfather. You’re still our friend and we will wait for you here in Annwn, but you have a lot to make up for.”

Black flinched and collapsed beneath the heavy weight of his friend’s words. He dropped his head onto the table and buried his hands in his hair. James gave him a sad look and shook his head before he focused back on Dumbledore. “My son is one of the most incredible wizards ever to have graced our world. Legends will be told about him.” Salazar tried not to grimace at that proclamation, a light blush upon his cheeks. He never wanted the fame. Sure, he wanted to be remembered after his death, but that did not mean he wanted to be a figure of legend. That kind of thought energy and power? It was how Gods were sometimes made. No thank you.

“Lily and I should go now. It does no good for us to be pulled through the veil into the living world,” James continued then. “It was not much, but we have said our piece. This man is both Harry Potter and Salazar Slytherin, for which I am proud of what sort of man he has become.” He narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore. “We still hear and see things from the other side. If you continue to harass our son, then you will be sure there will be hell to pay for it.” The spirit paused a moment and swept his gaze over the rest of the gathered magicals. “He is still the same man as the one you have come to know, so there is no reason to continue this interrogation.”

The spirit of his mother smiled up at him before she looked over the assembled mages as well. “Has he not fought for you these past few months? Has he not put himself on the line for your safety? Even brought back into a war he hadn’t had the memory of, he fought harder than most to see Voldemort’s defeat. Because of him, that madman is closer to defeat than he has ever been. You should be thanking Herrick, not trying to vilify him!” She ranted as her voice rose, but quieted once her husband placed his hand against her shoulder. “I could berate you all more, but James is right,” she said testily before all fight went out of her and she turned to Salazar with a gentle smile. “We’ll still be close, Herrick. Stay safe.” She ghosted a kiss against his cheek before she and her husband were gone when Salazar released his grip on the stone once more. He appreciated his parents had started to use his preferred name.

As Lily and James faded away, Salazar’s father gave him a little salute while an uncomfortable silence fell about them. Once the spirits were gone, Salazar turned his attention back to the others. He spared Hermione a small smile when he spotted her concerned look, but then he gave a soft sigh and lifted his eyes to meet Dumbledore’s. Salazar sighed softly. “Headmaster, I would like to request that this remains a secret for now. I, in particular, do not want the Dark Lord to catch wind of my return. Whether that is as Salazar Slytherin or Harry Potter.” He had the sense that he was in the madman’s sights in some capacity, but on the edges of his periphery. If Riddle learned that he was either Salazar or Harry, then the man would set his full sights on him. Salazar did not want that, not yet. He had to meet the man on the battlefield eventually, but they were not prepared for that eventuality. And, even though they had plans on how to get the last two horcruxes, they did not need the Dark Lord to hide them again before they could even get close.

Dumbledore cleared his throat then and sat back in his chair. Salazar thought he looked like he had aged considerably in a short amount of time, that he looked more like a feeble old man than a powerful and wizened wizard. “They are right about one thing,” the old man said quietly. “You are the same man that we have come to know since your return nearly half a year ago. At the same time, however, it changes everything.” He stood up then and stroked his beard in a self soothing motion. “Everyone here will be bound to silence,” he agreed. “We cannot have Tom learning about this development. Not until we can prepare for the eventuality.”

There was some reluctant agreement from around the table, but they were not about to speak out against the Headmaster. Dumbledore nodded his thanks for their acceptance, but then he frowned in Salazar direction. “There is one last thing we must speak about. The man at the gate was truly Godric Gryffindor?”

Salazar inclined his head. “Yes. I told you of how Cayden had used a curse on the other Founders, to turn their minds against me,” he reminded them. “I was recalled to this time at the end of my battle against my brother, but I left behind three friends to deal with the broken curse and no answers. It drove Godric to great lengths to put to right wrongs that had been done. I do not know what magic he has called on that has brought him here, but I would recognize my brother regardless. However the circumstances, that is Godric Gryffindor.” The whispers that broke out were excited and Salazar had to hold back a scowl.

“Whatever thoughts are in your head, you must abandon them now,” Salazar sharply. “Just as the stories you like to pass down of me are nothing but elaborated misconceptions, the same can be said of Godric. He is not a godlike wizard, but just a man. A man with flaws just as the rest of us.” Salazar lifted his chin as he stared down Dumbledore. “I do not know how much time has passed for Godric, but he has not looked after himself in that time. The camp’s healer Auðr counted a number of injuries that they have started to mend. However, his mind has been strained beneath the pressure of his hunt for me. I cannot know how he will respond once he wakes. Let me keep him under my care and I will keep him under control. His presence I want complete silence on as well. He will be just another refugee, named Ric, that has taken sanctuary in Hogwarts’ hallowed halls. It will be some time before he is ready to be amongst the rest of the population anyhow.”

The Headmaster gave a slow nod. “I shall leave him in your care,” he agreed after a moment. “However, I would like it if you keep me updated about his condition. I would like to meet him once he is well enough.”

“I will let him know,” Salazar said with a slight bow of his head. “Now, if you are satisfied, I would like to return to his side.” He paused before he gave a small smirk. “I am sure there is much you would like to discuss about me while I am not here.” He ignored the twins as they snickered loudly and did not even bother to hide their amusement.

“As you say,” Dumbledore said evenly. “At dinner, I will make an announcement that there is nothing to worry about and that we have a new guest who is being treated for his injuries. It should satisfy the curiosities of the school. You are free to roam the school as you have been before, so you are excused.”

That would have to do for now, though it would not hold back the questions forever. Godric made quite the ruckus when he had first arrived and they would want to know more about him, why he had been allowed to stay. “I appreciate your help in the matter, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Salazar said with a slight bow. “Have a good day.” He wanted to get out underneath the suffocating gazes of mages he did not know well. He knew their faces well enough, but he had little memory of them, if at all, from the time he had been Harry Potter. Yet their gazes had changed, as if they had started to measure him against what they thought they knew of him. Both as Harry Potter and now as Salazar Slytherin. It was not just Salazar Slytherin that had wild rumors attached to his name.

Before he left, Salazar spared his godfather a quick look. The man’s face was drawn and a rather sickly pale. He had threaded his fingers through his hair again and leaned forward so his elbows rested upon the table. The wizard’s grey eyes looked lost as he watched Salazar without really seeing him. Salazar held back a sigh as he gave the group a small nod and then turned away, eager to leave. As he turned, he saw Hermione start to rise from her chair. He gave her a quick shake of his head as he did not want her to follow him. He would much rather her stay for the discussion Dumbledore wanted to have with the gathered wizards. Hermione could fill him in with the relevant details at a later time. Luckily, she seemed to understand and settled back in her seat with a faint pout. Salazar hid a smile as he finally walked away.

The walk back down to the camp was a quiet one as Salazar walked alone. He stepped slowly along the path as he just wanted to focus on his thoughts as he walked. He could hear the distant call of birds from the forest, along with the calls of other creatures that called the forest home. From the school he heard nothing, a silent sentinel that loomed over the snow covered grounds. She had grown so much in the time he had been gone, and she would continue to grow until long after he had passed from the world. He would make sure of it.

The conversation with Dumbledore and the others had gone better than he had hoped, though he would admit that he had run before they could fully process his entire story. It had been a small group, with those he barely knew, but he had been most worried about the Headmaster and Black. He had gotten through the conversation in one piece and had not had to resort to any sort of magic to defend himself. Small mercies, he supposed. Though, while they had quietly accepted his tale for now, Salazar was not sure how long that peace would last. As he had left, there had been an underlying tension that was likely to explode eventually. For all that he was the same man and he was no different from before, they saw him with new eyes now. They would have to fight to push past the prejudices they had conceived against anything Slytherin, while also reconcile that with their image of their “golden saviour.” Once they had done that, they would have to accept that their preconceived notions of him were far different from the man he actually was. It could be a long process, but Salazar only hoped that it would not interfere with his actions in the war.

With it all so heavy on his mind and upon his shoulders, Salazar tried not to drag his feet as he approached the healer’s tent. He paused a moment outside the door before he gathered his courage and stepped inside. Auðr was currently nowhere to be found and Luna was absent as well. Only Einar remained as he watched over Godric’s slumbering form laid out on one of the few cots.

“Finally released from their clutches?” Einar said as he looked up from his vigil.

With a silent nod, the dark haired wizard made his way over to the cot where Godric was laid out. “We have come to an agreement. Dumbledore and his followers will keep silent,” Salazar explained softly as he sat down next to the cot on a stool that was there. “However, I do doubt it will be the end of it and there are relationships that I need to fix.”

Einar hummed softly under his breath as he looked over Godric. “It is better than what you had dreaded. And, you have more allies now,” he said as he moved over to stand at the foot of Godric’s cot.

“I do not know about that, but we shall see,” Salazar said softly. They knew that he was Salazar now, but also that he had been Harry. Their hopes of a saviour would likely war with the ingrained stories that they had though they knew about Salazar Slytherin. “How is he?” He asked then as he changed the subject.

Einar glanced at him before he turned his gaze back at Godric. “Healing,” he replied shortly before he gave a soft sigh. “Auðr put him into a healing sleep. The bones have been mended and the bruises are fading. He will need time to replenish his core and to strengthen his body once more. The sleep will help speed up his recovery and give his mind time to rest.”

“How long will he sleep?”

“Until the next morn,” was the reply, but it was not from Einar. Salazar turned to see that it was Auðr that had appeared, a basket of herbs in their arms. “He will heal in body, but I am not so sure of his mind. I am no mind healer, but I know enough to see that it is clouded and there is damage there that has not fully healed.”

Cayden’s mind curse. Salazar ran his hands over his face. “He was put under a curse to turn against me. The curse broke upon the caster’s death, but I had already been gone by then. Godric imposed a quest upon himself to find me and I dread to think of the things he has done in the last few months. I do not even know how he brought himself here as my circumstances were unique.” The wizard paused and then gave a sigh. “Now that he has found me, perhaps his mind can heal as well.” Perhaps even Fawkes could help, though he was surprised that the phoenix was not here. Even if their bond had broken, the creature still must have known that Godric was here. Actually, he wondered why the creature had not joined his interrogation. Dumbledore must have sent him off on some task for him to be absent through all of this. Salazar shook the thoughts of as he decided it was unimportant for now. Fawkes would likely show up at some point.

Unaware of Salazar’s distracted thoughts, Auðr frowned a bit but gave a nod. “Only time will tell,” they said quietly.

Salazar could only agree. He gave yet another sigh then and rubbed a hand over his face. “The Headmaster cannot bar me from Hogwarts and cannot bar Godric.” He was sure that Dumbledore had thought about it, though now likely wanted to keep him close. Close enough to keep an eye on. “Can Godric be moved? It would be safer for everyone if he woke up while in Hogwarts’ walls.”

“He is deeply asleep, so he is safe to be moved,” Auðr agreed with a nod. They then picked up a small pouch and pressed it into Salazar’s hand. “Once he wakes, give him these. They are nutrient potions that he will appreciate in the long run. It will heal the damage to his stomach and will help to give him his appetite back. However, I do recommend that he keep his meals light for at least the next day or so.”

With a nod, Salazar tucked the potion pouch into the pouch on his belt. “Thank you for all of your help. I will keep you apprized of the situation and bring him back if anything happens.”

Auðr gave a small bow as they folded their hands behind their back. “I want to see him back here in a couple of days, regardless,” they said sternly before their expression softened. “You are a good friend, Herrick. We all stand behind you, no matter what happens.”

“I appreciate it more than you could ever know,” Salazar said softly. He drew his wand then and turned towards Godric. With a small sweep of his wand, he called upon the magic that naturally gathered in the air. “Gluais an corp,” he commanded softly. The air around Godric seemed to sparkle a little as his body gently started to rise into the air. With Einar there to lead the way and hold the tent open for him, Salazar guided Godric’s slumbering form out into the open.

The trek up to the castle was a long one, done in silence for most of the way. “Where do you intend to take him?” Einar asked after a time as he fell into step alongside Salazar.

After he had thought over the question a moment, Salazar gave a thoughtful hum. “His quarters might still be contained within the castle somewhere, though likely to have moved. However, I will house him in my own chambers for now where I can look over him. Especially given his record with healers and being confined to beds.”

“I happen to recall that your record is not much better, Herrick,” Einar said with amusement, though he nodded in agreement to Salazar’s plan. The wizard gave his friend a small glare, but decided to not reply. Instead, he turned his attention back to the road ahead. He had until the next morning to figure out what he would say to Godric, so it was on the forefront of his mind. “Do you want me to stay with you?” Einar suddenly spoke again, his voice sober now as he interrupted Salazar’s thoughts.

Salazar blinked once and then focused on the elf. “Stay with me? No, it is alright. Godric is easy company while he sleeps, so I will take the quiet as a chance to sort out my thoughts.” There was a lot he needed to mull over and he needed the quiet to do that. “Though, if you could find me a change of clothes in Godric’s size, that would be much appreciated.” Though the two men were rather equal in height, tall for most men of Godric’s time, the redhead was much more broad in shoulder. Einar nodded his acceptance to the request.

As they reached the doors to the castle, Luna was there to greet them. As Einar moved to open the doors, Luna stepped up to where Godric hovered asleep and unaware. She reached out and tenderly brushed a bit of dirty hair from his face. While someone had cleaned Godric up a bit, it was still easy to see that it had been a long time since Godric had taken care of his appearance. “Welcome home, Godric Gryffindor,” she said softly and leaned down to press a kiss against his forehead. “He will heal in your care, dear Herrick. Both of you will, given time and effort. But only if you allow it.” She stepped aside again then as Einar got the doors open. Salazar said nothing as he guided Godric’s prone form through the doors.

Einar went ahead of him to guide any students and other roaming individuals out of the way. The corridors were quiet as the students were currently in the midst of classes, but there were a few various refugees that needed to be intercepted. Salazar did not want Godric’s face to be seen just yet. Luckily, they were able to make it to Salazar chamber’s without incident.

Salazar gently settled Godric down on the bed after Luna had pulled back the covers for him. Once Godric was laid out, she covered him gently. She gently brushed some hair from his face and then leaned down to press a kiss against his forehead once more. She whispered something to him, something that was too quiet for Salazar to hear. As she pulled away, she spared him one last little smile before she turned to Salazar instead. “I doubt you have eaten anything since your interrupted breakfast,” she said lightly as she stepped up to him. “I will ask for something to be brought to you, but would you like me to stay?”

The offer was tempting, but Salazar gave a small shake of his head. “I would rather be alone, but thank you. I appreciate the sentiment,” he said softly and looked over to Einar. “Thank you as well.” Einar regarded him with a sharp eye, but gave a nod. He said a quiet farewell before he turned his gaze on Godric for a moment. He gave a small shake of his head before he turned and was soon gone.

Luna reached up and cupped Salazar’s face in her delicate hands. Once his focus was on her, she gave him a stern look. “You do not have to shoulder this burden alone,” she told him firmly. “Remember, we are all here for you. Whatever happens from now on, we are here and we support you.” She leaned up then on her toes and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Just remember that, dear Herrick.” She smiled at him then before she left as well.

Finally alone with Godric’s sleeping form, Salazar ran his hands over his face. Eolas was off somewhere in the school, though he was bound to turn up at some point once he heard of their newest guest. Heimir was likely off to hunt or just to fly about the forest since he was not around. Because both creatures were not present, it was quiet in the bedroom with only Godric’s soft breathing to break the silence.

With Luna’s promise to send him food at the forefront of his mind, Salazar transfigured a couple of small wooden beads into a sturdy table and an elegantly carved chair. He padded it with a transfigured pillow from his bed and then settled in it just as a house elf popped in with a tray of various foods. Luna certainly had not wasted any time, had likely called for a house elf as soon as she had stepped out of his office. With a small shake of his head, Salazar thanked the little creature and requested that he leave the tray on the table.

Once the house elf had left, Salazar started in on his meal as he suddenly realized he was rather hungry. There was cheese, bread, apple slices, slices of some sort of sausage, and a jug of apple cider. It was a simple lunch, but something more akin to what he had been used to in the past. It was certainly not as rich as the meals that Hogwarts tended to serve in the Great Hall. The house elves certainly cooked delicious meals, but sometimes it was nice to have something simpler. He tried not to watch Godric as he ate, but the sound of the wizard’s breathing was always on the edge of his awareness. It remained soft and even as Godric slept deeply.

After he had finished his meal, he called for a house else to clear away the empty dishes. He left Godric alone for a moment as he went to collect a few scrolls and some writing materials. He settled in at the table then to spend the afternoon on his ongoing inquiry into modern potionmaking. It was a quiet afternoon, though he occasionally had those of his friends who had been at the meeting drop in to check on him and see how Godric was doing. Most of them also made sure to remind him that they were on his side. He appreciated the sentiment, though he was a little tired of the visits by the time dinner came around. He took dinner alone, then returned to his research until the hour was late in an attempt to occupy his mind. Eventually, however, he decided he needed to try to get some sleep.

Salazar spent the night in a cot beside his bed, though he spent very little of it asleep. Rest did not come easy to him as he tossed and turned, the hours of the night stretched long. It was in the early morning hours, even before the light of the winter dawn had broken, that Salazar gave up on sleep. He rose from the cot and dismissed the enchantment with a wave of his wand. Godric still slept, so Salazar stumbled into the bathroom to take care of his morning routine and shower. Once he was dressed, he stepped back out into his bedroom to find that Godric was finally awake.

“I thought it was a dream. Are you truly here, Sal?” The man’s normally strong voice was barely louder than a whisper. It made something deep inside of him ache, though it was swallowed by bitterness that he could not fight back. He knew Godric was not at fault for the magic that Cayden had placed upon his mind, but it did not stop the part of him that was angry at Godric for not fighting back. It was an illogical anger and he knew it, but it did not stop what emotions he felt. He was also angry at Godric in that he had not taken care of himself, that he had put himself at great risk to bring himself forward through time.

Unable to hold back his tongue, Salazar sneered and crossed his arms over his chest. “It is no dream, you foolish lion. Do you understand what you have done? What risks you must have taken?” He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he approached the bed. Even through his mane of hair, Godric’s eyes were wide like a startled deer. He appeared meek and cowed beneath Salazar’s angry gaze. Everything that Salazar had tried to put behind walls suddenly crumbled them and came forth. “You have done many stupid things in the past, but this has to be the worst of your decisions yet! Do you know what damage your impulsive actions have wrought upon our world?”

“I do not… do not understand,” Godric stammered some as he pushed the blankets aside and sat up with a faint wince. Auðr’s potions had gone a long way to mend Godric’s abused body, but only time would provide a complete cure. Salazar held back an acidic comment as he tried to reign back in his emotions.

To prevent Godric from any attempts to get out of the bed, Salazar sat down at the foot of the bed. “You will stay where you are, Godric Gryffindor,” he snapped before he took a deep breath and steadied himself. “We are not in our original time, Godric.” Salazar looked away, towards the enchanted window that looked out over the lake. “Or, it is more accurate to say, you are not in your original time. I have returned to the era in which I was born. When you found me all those years ago, I had been sent to the past with no memory. That was why I could never find any existing family, why my mannerisms could sometimes be strange.” Godric remained quiet, though he looked thoughtful when Salazar turned back to him. The redhead still looked much too pale, but something seemed to have started to settle in him. “The year is 2001, over one thousand years from the time you knew.”

“That is why I did not recognize Hogwarts. She has grown so much!” Godric breathed out in awe. His brow furrowed then and he looked up to meet Salazar’s eyes again. “I do not regret it. There is nothing for me there anymore.”

Those words made his anger surge once more. “Nothing? What about your son, hm? Yes, I was told about him, how you abandoned him in Helga and Rowena’s arms. What about your students? What about Helga? And Rowena?” Salazar tried to rein in his anger again when Godric’s shoulders hunched. “You were not the only one who was hurting, Godric Gryffindor,” he hissed with tightly controlled emotion. “When Cayden’s curse broke, did you stop to think about Helga and Rowena? They were victims to his curse as well, but you abandoned them as well. They lost two friends.”

Godric shook his head as he threaded his fingers into his knotted mane. “No, no… I searched for you for nearly a whole year! I promised that I would find you within a year and bring you back home! I promised it to Helga and Rowena! I had to do everything in my power…!” He cut himself off suddenly as he ran out of breath and started to cough.

Salazar clicked his tongue and moved closer to Godric’s side to place a hand against his back. “Easy there. Calm down and focus on your breath,”  he said soothingly. When Godric finally got his breathing under control, Salazar sighed and dropped his hand away. The redhead immediately grabbed his hand into his own and clutched onto him like a lifeline. “Godric,” Salazar said quietly, sadly. “Some things are out of your control. I do appreciate that you would go looking for me, but do you think I like seeing you in this condition? You could have killed yourself. You abandoned your only child.”

“I named him after you,” Godric interrupted quietly as he leaned into Salazar, with exhaustion seeped deep into his bones. “I lost myself in a bottle on a number of occasions. He was the result of that. I knew I could not look after him while I searched for you, so I left him in good hands.”

Salazar allowed Godric to leave on him, but he clenched his jaw. “They did what they could for your son, from what I hear,” he said tightly. “But your son grew up hating you for abandoning him, hating me for stealing you from him. His hatred, and your abandonment of Hogwarts, acted like a poison. One thousand years later and my House is ostracized from the rest of the school. Do you know what that does to a young impressionable mind? I will not claim that all of my students have been innocent, but it is a cycle of hate that has grown wildly out of control.” When Godric flinched and curled in on himself, Salazar sighed as the anger flowed out of him again. “I apologize, Godric. You are not in any condition for me to berate you like this.”

“You have every right to be angry with me. All I have done is cause you more pain. I have only made more mistakes, just have you said,” Godric interrupted with a shake of his head.

Salazar turned then and wrapped his arms around Godric. He pulled his friend in and just held him for a moment. “Your mind has not been allowed to heal from Cayden’s curse. You have not taken care of yourself. That is what I am most angry about. I have had time to process the answers that I have found, but there is still hurt. There is still bitterness over what was robbed from me, what was robbed from all of us. I am still hurt, but you are still my brother, Godric. I still love you dearly.”

There was hesitation still from Godric, but then he wrapped his arms around Salazar’s waist and held onto him tightly. “I am sorry, Salazar. I am so sorry for my part in all of those,” the man whispered hoarsely as his body shook with suppressed emotion. Salazar let him be, let him get it out.

Eventually, Salazar pulled back and gently patted Godric’s shoulder. “We have a long way to go before we will be okay, but this is a start,” he decided. “No more apologies. Instead, let us use our actions to mend our wrongs. Let us let it proceed naturally as forcing it will only make things worse. Still, we need to both think on our actions before we act on them.” He raised his eyebrow at Godric with a pointed look.

“Yes, of course,” Godric muttered, a light blush on his cheeks that was nearly hidden by his out of control whiskers.

Salazar eyed his face critically before he stood up from the bed. “Auðr sent some potions for you to take when you woke,” he said as he went over to the bedside table and picked up the pouch that the healer had given to him. He fished out one of the vials and held it out to the redhead. “Drink, then I have another. No protests,” he ordered sternly. “Then I can run a bath for you so you can finally clean the stink of the road off of you.” Godric looked like he wanted to protest, but he took the potions with little complaint. Salazar tucked the empty vials away in the couch before he set it aside so he could return it to Auðr later.

“Stay there,” he ordered as he turned away. “I will return in a moment.”

“Just hurry. Your familiar is giving me an uncomfortable look,” Godric said flatly.

The statement made Salazar hide a smile as he made his way over to the bathroom door. A glimmer of Godric’s true self shown through in those words. “You still fear he will eat you even now? He says you are a foolish man, but even a fear of his bite is silly enough even for you.” As Salazar ducked into the bathroom, he heard Godric sputter behind him. It did not fully lessen the ache of his heart, but it warmed a small part of him to fall back into the easy teasing they so liked to toss back and forth.

Once the bath was prepared, Salazar helped Godric out of bed and then left him to his privacy as he went off to take his bath. He handed over the clothes that Einar had found for the man and then lightly pushed him in the direction of the bathroom. “Try not to drown yourself. Ignore your pride and just call for me if you need any help,” he called out to the redhead once Godric had started to close the door. “And no magic! Auðr will have both our hides if you break that order.” Godric muttered some response and then sharply closed the door. With a snort, Salazar turned back to the bed and then requested a house elf to change out the linen for him. He then seated himself in his transfigured chair to wait for Godric to return.

It was over an hour later when Godric finally appeared, dressed in the dark blue tunic that Einar had brought for him. He had braided his hair back, though a few loose curls fell loosely about his face. “I found a shaving kit,” Godric said then as he reached up to rub at his chin.

“Yes, I can see that. It makes you look more civilized,” Salazar said in amusement as he set his book aside. Godric had not fully shaved off his beard, but had trimmed it close like he normally kept it. With the wizard finally fully cleaned and groomed, it was easy to see how much weight Godric had lost. “We will wait until you have been cleared by Auðr, but then I will insist that you join me each morning. There is a group of us that gather most mornings to run and to spar, build up our strength with swords and with fists. It is something that is sorely lacking with most mages in this age.”

At the invitation, Godric’s eyes lit up with a fire that had slowly been rekindled. “It would be an honour to meet the new friends you have made here, Sal,” Godric said eagerly as he sat down on the edge of the remade bed. Salazar sighed and ran a hand through his loose locks of hair, which drew Godric’s confusion and concern. “Is there something else I have missed?”

“There is quite a lot you have missed, old friend,” Salazar muttered and then he stood up. “Follow me out to my office where we can sit before the hearth. I will request us something to eat and I will tell you the whole story as we eat.” When Godric nodded, Salazar called a house elf to request a light breakfast for the both of them as he kept Auðr’s orders in mind. Once the little creature popped away, Salazar guided Godric out of the bedroom.

When they were settled around the table before the warmth hearth, Salazar picked up a slice of buttered toast. “Go on and eat. It might not be what you are used to, but it is delicious all the same.” He spread some jam over the sourdough slice and then took a bite of it.

“Oh, what is this?” Godric asked curiously as he dumped some scrambled eggs onto his plate and then motioned towards circular slices of a creamy coloured fruit. He gathered a slice of toast as well, though he decided against the jam.

Salazar looked over to the fruit that Godric had pointed out. “Ah, that? It is called a banana. It has been sliced so it is easier to eat, but I will have to show you how they usually come. Try it, it is sweet. I think it is quite good, especially when added to porridge.”

Godric curiously picked up a slice with his fingers and gave it a little sniff. “Strong smell,”  he observed before he popped the slice into his mouth. He chewed a few times before he finally swallowed, a look of consideration on his face. Salazar snorted and took another bite of his toast. It was actually quite intriguing to watch Godric as he tried foods that were foreign to him. Salazar wondered if it was what he had looked like when he had been met with the strange new foods of Hogwarts. He shook off the thoughts and settled back in his chair with his plate.

Once Godric had prepared his plate, Salazar started to reveal his story to Godric. Though they had their differences and they needed to rebuild parts of their relationship, Salazar still trusted Godric. He knew this deep down into his very core that he could trust this with Godric and he would not judge him for anything. So, he told Godric everything. He told him of his past that he had begun to remember, told him of how he had first traveled through time. He told him of his most recent venture through time once more and everything that had happened since he had arrived there. He told Godric of the war that he had landed in the middle of, told of the prophecy that Riddle had imposed upon him against his will. Salazar told him of the horcruxes and his journey into Helheim. He told him of the Northern communities and their efforts for the war, how they had joined them at Hogwarts and the battles they had already fought. He told Godric of the Hallows and the spirits he had spoken with, of his connections to the various Gods. Salazar told Godric everything, their plates long empty by the time that he finished. All the while, Godric had sat patiently and silently until Salazar had finished.

“I will fight by your side,” Godric said seriously as he turned and reached out to clasp Salazar’s hands in his own. “You are my brother in everything but blood and I shall see you through the war. That is my purpose. That is why I am here. I am here to help right the wrongs of the past, so that the wizarding world might finally see some peace. Once it is all over, then you will find your peace as well. I swear it.” They did not take oaths lightly.

Salazar looked down at their clasped hands before he sighed and squeezed Godric’s hands. “I still do not have any guarantee that I will survive a battle against a wizard several decades older than me. However, I have so many strong allies and I have my life experiences as Salazar Slytherin. With you here now, I have a better chance than before. Still, I admit that I am scared. I am not scared to die, I know where I will end up when I do. I am scared that I will fail, that the Dark Lord will win.”

“You do not have to shoulder this alone, Salazar. You must know that. Even if you do fall, which I refuse to believe, everyone else will not allow your death to be pointless. Regardless of what happens, the Dark Lord will be defeated,” Godric said solemnly. He gave a little smile then and let go of Salazar’s hands. “Now, then. Am I allowed to wander about Hogwarts under your supervision? I want to see how she has grown.”

Though his immediate instinct was to say no, Salazar held his tongue and thought over the question. “You have only just been healed by Auðr, Godric,” he said slowly before he huffed softly. “You should take it easy, but I know better than to try and keep you confined to a bed. So, as long as we take it slow, I am not adverse to showing you about the halls.” He stood up then and made his way over to the cabinets against one wall. He retrieved one of the translation charms that he stored there and brought it over to Godric. “Here. This will allow you to converse with the others who do not speak our language. However, you must promise to keep your identity a secret for now and not mention that you are here from the past. You will be Ric, an old friend of mine that needed sanctuary from the war.”

As he took the bracelet, Godric gave a nod. “I promise.”

“And remember to call me Herrick, not Sal,” Salazar reminded blandly as he stepped back and started to gather his hair up into a messy bun. He tied it off with a slim strip of leather cord before he glanced back at Godric. “Does the charm work properly?” He asked the question as he switched from Gaelic to English once Godric had fastened it about his wrist.

“What a strange sensation,” Godric murmured. “You need not worry, though. Your charms are always of the finest quality.” He gave Salazar a bright grin as he dropped his hands back down onto his sides. Salazar only nodded, unable to return Godric’s smile. He felt awkward around the other man, as if everything was just slightly out of place. It all looked the same, but still felt off somehow. Godric’s smile dropped and he lowered his gaze as well. “Yes, right. Shall we go?" Salazar gave a nod in agreement, though he said nothing as he led Godric out the door.

As they stepped out into the corridor, Salazar closed his office door behind them. “The children will all likely be in classes right now,” he informed Godric. “There are refugees in the school, as I mentioned before, but they have been asked to refrain from wandering the hallways when classes are in session. The sixth floor has been entirely renovated as housing for the numerous families that have taken sanctuary in Hogwarts.”

“You converted the dungeons as well, yes?” Godric interrupted as they started a slow walk down the hallways.

Salazar nodded in response. “Yes, to house the families with affiliations to Slytherin House,” he said. “There has been a steady stream of refugees since the Headmaster opened up the school. Enough so that it has been hard to keep up with creating space for the families. The sixth floor was the first to be converted, but eventually the seventh and fifth floors needed to be converted as well. They had a few classrooms that needed to be moved from those floors, but there are plenty of empty and unused classrooms on the lower floors.” He did not think that Hogwarts had ever supported so many witches and wizards at one time. Not even when it had operated as home to magical research departments. The Room was on the seventh floor, but Salazar had requested a secret passage from Hogwarts so that their group could access the Room without the need to interact with any of the refugees. The seventh floor housed the least number so far anyways.

“I am glad that Hogwarts can provide safety for so many,” Godric said as he broke Salazar from his thoughts. “But how does the school support so many?”

At the question, Salazar frowned a bit. “Many of the refugees are running from the Ministry’s Registration Act,” he explained first. “The Headmaster has needed to fend off a number of supposedly official Ministry visits. The Ministry has been quiet on that front for a time now as they have focused their efforts on those who have not yet taken refuge here, though Hermione has said that the Headmaster thinks they might make a public move soon on Hogwarts.” From what he understood, many mundane born magicals had started to flee from the British Isles. If they had not come here, then they had left the English wizarding community altogether. “Hogwarts is very close to being unable to take anymore refugees. Many have taken to living in or around Hogsmeade within the reach of its wards. Quite a number of wizard tents have popped up in the open area outside of the castle wards, but still within the reach of the Hogsmeade wards.”

Salazar paused a moment and then took a small breath. “As for how we provide for all of the refugees? Hogsmeade sits on a Nexus. There have been a number of merchants that have put their lives on the line to smuggle goods from the mainland of Europe into Hogsmeade. From there, the refugees in Hogsmeade and Hogwarts can shop in the temporary stalls that have popped up in what they have started to call Market Alley. Some of the goods are also funneled into Hogwarts. Anything above the normal operating costs of the school has been donated in good will.”

Godric nodded as he followed along. “What about Helga’s gardens?”

“Many have long been converted into greenhouses that produce magical plants,” Salazar said. “However, there was an effort to reorganize some of the greenhouses and to build a few more. Produce has been cultivated in these new spaces, with accelerated growth aided by magic. It has helped to supplement the amount of food that is consumed on a daily basis. Some of the families have even offered the help of their house elves to help carry the load placed upon Hogwarts’ elves. Several of the wizards themselves have taken it upon themselves to help out in the greenhouses where they can as well.” It was actually quite amazing to see how the community had banded together to face some of the problems they had faced. Tension still occasionally ran high, but things had gone well with all things considered. It had surpassed even the Headmaster’s expectations, from what Salazar understood.

From beside Salazar, Godric gave a low laugh like a rumble of thunder. It was so familiar, but still startled Salazar. His chest felt tight as he pressed the heel of his palm over the middle of his chest and rubbed absently. Godric did not seem to have noticed as he continued to look down the corridor as they walked. “It is stories such as this that makes me feel hope for the community once the Dark Lord is defeated,” he said. “There are deep wounds, but the community will recover. It might take time, but I am hopeful.”

“I am as well,” Salazar said softly as he dropped his hand back down to his side. Godric flashed him a smile, but said nothing more about it. As the two wizards slowly wandered through the school, Godric seemed to be in awe over the changes to the ancient school. He was incredibly tickled over the moving staircases in particular, just as Salazar thought he would have been, but shared Salazar’s thoughts on the portraits. Though, there were a handful that he seemed interested in further conversation with.

They were on their way up to the Room when they met Draco. The blonde had not been at the meeting with Dumbledore and some of his followers, so he gave Godric a curious look. Salazar sighed and made a small motion with his hand. “Do you want to follow us to the Room? I can do introductions there,” he suggested. Though he had asked Dumbledore to keep quiet about Godric’s presence at Hogwarts, he wanted to tell the rest of his companions about the man. However, that meant that he had to tell Draco the full truth about his identity. Draco was the only one who still did not know, but now was the time to come clean.

As they continued on the path to the Room, Salazar called for a house elf and requested a light meal be brought to the Room. When they reached their destination, Salazar asked Hogwarts for a cozy room for them to talk. Something neutral. So, when he opened the door, he stepped into a small room with dark wood paneling and dark blue walls. A roaring fire burned in the hearth and there was a ring of plushchairs around a circular table where there was food that waited for them.

Once they were seated, Salazar motioned towards the table. “Please, you are welcome to have some as well,” he told Draco. “Auðr has prescribed light meals as Ric recovers, so I apologize if the meal does not feel filling.” He waited until everyone had gathered food for themselves before he gave Draco a little smile. “The rest of Hogwarts will be introduced to my companion as Ric, an old friend who has come seeking refuge as Hogwarts,” he started. “However, I want to let you and our other friends in on the truth.”

Before he could continue, the door to the Room opened and Blaise poked his head into the room. Salazar blinked and invited him over. “I am surprised to see you, Blaise. Why are you not in class?” He asked curiously.

Blaise gave a shrug and dropped down into a chair before he helped himself to the food. “Class was about to end for lunch anyways and Luna said that you needed me for something.” He glanced over to Godric curiously.

Somehow, Salazar could not be surprised that Luna had sent Blaise here. Blaise had wanted to be around when Draco learned the truth of Salazar’s identity and the werewolf’s presence would be a welcome one to give Draco support. “What a meddling witch,” Salazar said with a small laugh. “Yes, alright.” He turned back to Draco then and breathed out quietly. “I want you to know that you are the last of our friends to learn this, but it was not out of any willingness to exclude you. Rather, with your duties as a spy in the Dark Lord’s ranks, I did not want to put any more stress upon your shoulders. However, I think it is time now to come clean.”

Draco gave him a sharp look and set his goblet back down. “I see. Even Blaise knew this?” He gave his friend a look from the corner of his eye. Blaise appeared eager and only gave Draco a wide grin, wolfish but not mean-spirited. Draco frowned in response before he leveled his mercury gaze back on Salazar. “Very well. What is it that you need to tell me?”

This could go either very well, or decidedly not well. Salazar reminded himself that he had faced down scarier opponents than Draco Malfoy. “First, I would like to introduce the both of you to Godric Gryffindor.” Godric nodded at his name and gave the two younger men a bright smile. Silence fell around them at the introduction, both wizards rendered speechless. Draco’s expression was a more incredulous one, as if he could not even begin to believe that what Salazar said was true.

“How?” Draco finally breathed out. “Impossible.”

Salazar gave a small nod. “It does seem impossible, does it not? Though, I too would like to know how you got here,” he gave the redhead a quick glare, still unimpressed with him. “We have not discussed what you have done to bring yourself to this time.”

At the sudden scrutiny, Godric swallowed and shifted in his seat. “I, well, I…” He trailed off and cleared his throat before he took a deep breath. Salazar’s expression darkened at his friend’s hesitation. He opened his mouth to snarl out a question, but Godric raised his hands. “There is a theory about henges, right? That they were placed by our ancestors to tap into the wild magic of the earth. We were not yet organized practitioners, but there were still ways that we could tap into the ancient magics. Henges are conduits of great power as natural veins of potent power converge beneath the standing stones.”

Salazar sucked in a sharp breath. “Godric, what on earth did you do?”

Godric swallowed and avoided Salazar’s gaze. “I took traces of your magic, little things that you left behind at Hogwarts and used them as a tether. It was a last ditch effort that would take me to wherever it was that you were, even if it would take me into death.”

“Wait, hold on,” Draco interrupted. “The way you speak of each other… but that would make you…”

He drew the words out slowly and Salazar could see the dawning comprehension on the wizard’s face. “Yes, you would be correct. I am Salazar Slytherin, though my reputation precedes me and very little is actually anchored in any sort of fact.”

“Impossible,” Draco breathed out, his eyes wide with wonder. “Salazar Slytherin. But how?”

Salazar winced at the awe in Draco’s tone. “I am here because this was originally my time, the era in which I was born.”

“What? How?” Draco’s voice had quieted, confusion colouring his tone. His eyes told Salazar that the younger man did not know what to believe.

“I was born here, in this era, and attended Hogwarts as a student until the end of my fourth year. There was a magical explosion during the summer and I was sent into the far past with my memories stolen from me. I took on the name of Salazar Slytherin and rebuilt my life,” Salazar explained. “In this time, I was Harry Potter.”

With that announcement, all blood in Draco’s face seemed to drain away. “No, impossible,” he whispered, his eyes wild as he looked to Salazar and then to Blaise. When Blaise nodded with an amused smirk, Draco’s eyes shot back to Salazar. “No, it can’t be,” he croaked out as he swayed in his seat. Suddenly concerned, Salazar rose up from his seat. He could do nothing else when Draco’s eyes suddenly rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.

As he tipped forward, Salazar threw out a hand to pillow Draco’s fall. Blaise cackled, but reached out to catch his friend and then settled him back in his seat so he would not end up face down on the table or slumped to the floor. Once Draco was settled, Blaise settled back in his seat and started to laugh. “Oh, that was as good as I thought it would be! I’m never going to let him live that down,” he said between his laughs.

“Did I miss something?” Godric asked quietly as he ripped apart some pieces of chicken. His eyes darted between the three other men.

Salazar gave a tired huff of laughter. “As schoolmates, Draco and I were not exactly on the best of terms. We were rivals, just silly boyhood feuds as we tried to figure out the ways of the world. We have both grown much since then, though I suppose I am the most changed of the two of us.” Blaise snorted his agreement, but Salazar decided to ignore him as he stepped away from his chair to go check on Draco.

The blonde wizard was not out for long and he had already started to groan as he fought back to consciousness. “Blaise, I had the strangest dream,” the man groaned before he had even opened his eyes. “I dreamed that Herrick said he was Salazar Slytherin. And Harry Potter,” he murmured. “Remind me not to drink Firewhiskey with you anymore.”

Amused, Salazar snorted softly and leaned down to touch Draco’s arm. “As much as I would like to tell you it was all a bad dream, I am sorry to say that it is very much real,” he said with a soft laugh. He stepped back then as Draco jolted and his eyes flew open. “Hey, steady now. I did not mean to startle you.” He did not want Draco to faint again. “I know it is a lot to take in and I apologize for it.”

Draco’s brow furrowed and he glanced over to Blaise who still cackled every so often as he fought to get his laughter back under contol. He turned instead to Salazar then and made to stand up. Salazar waved his hand and told him to stay seated before he returned to his own chair. Draco settled back and groaned as he abandoned all sense of decorum when he rubbed at his face. “By Merlin, Herrick. Potter.”

“Just call me Herrick, Draco. I have not been Harry Potter for many years now. Not in name, nor deed. I have yet to fully reclaim it as I slowly recover my memories, anyhow. Still, I do not think I will ever be truly Harry Potter ever again,” he interrupted. “While we are at it, I wanted to apologize for our past feuds. I was decidedly not an innocent party in all of it, as I certainly carried with me a boyish arrogance. I knew I made mistakes, or did not have all of the answers, but what I did know I thought I knew what was right.”

There was silence for a moment before Draco removed his hands from his face and he gave Salazar a serious look. “You are not alone in that. I was blinded by arrogance and a need to please my father. There were many things you were right about, however. I just could not see them until it was nearly too late. So I must thank you for that, at the very least.” He breathed a heavy sigh and placed his hands against the armrests of his chair. “This will take me some time to process, I think,” he said finally. “Seriously, I don’t think I ever would have guessed. But, now that you say it, I can definitely see it. It’s the shape of your eyes, I think. They’re no longer the verdant green that I remember, but the shape of them are familiar.”

“Spent a long time looking at his eyes, Draco?” Blaise teased. It seemed to break the tension as Godric snorted and glanced over to Salazar. Draco himself went a bright red and quickly tried to deny it. “Always knew that you watched Potter too closely for your own good, Draco. Have to say though, your thing with the Weasley duo is much more entertaining,” the werewolf continued.

As Draco started to sputter out denials and half formed sentences, Salazar rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “If it makes you feel any better, Draco,” he interrupted. “I spent far too much time with my eyes on you as well. Sorry, though, you are not really my type. I will leave you for Fred and George.”

“I hate you all,” Draco ground out as he stood from his chair stiffly. “Good day to you.” He rounded the chair and stalked towards the door, though he paused to look back at Salazar. “No hard feelings. I like the friendship we have built now,” he said softly before he disappeared out the door.

Salazar snorted softly and picked up a piece of chicken as he returned to his almost forgotten food. “That was Draco Malfoy,” he told Godric then. “As stated before, a school rival. Though we seemed to have moved past that, thankfully.” He was glad for it. The Draco Malfoy he had once known might not have been so rational about the situation, but they had both matured and had learned hard life lessons.

“Oh, don’t you worry. He probably went off to his room to pace the floor and pull at his hair in peace while he processes everything,” Blaise said lightly as he stabbed at a piece of carrot with his fork. “I’m Blaise Zabini, by the way,” he introduced himself to Godric as he glanced at him with a sharp eye. “I was Salazar’s first friend upon his return.” He said it with just enough inflection that it could be nothing less than a dig at Godric. It did not go over the man’s head.

Godric flinched and set his hands down on the edge of the table. “It is an honour to meet you, Blaise Zabini,” he said lowly, in a chastised voice. “Thank you for being a friend to Salazar. I promise that I will make up for all of my mistakes.”

At that pledge, Blaise gave a sharp nod. “See that you do. I will hold you to it,” he said gravely before he settled again. “Now, tell me. What sort of trouble did the two of you cause? You can’t lie to me, Herrick. I know you and Gryffindor got up to all sorts of shenanigans, didn’t you?” Salazar only glared at Blaise without any heat, not about to rise to the bait. He could not do anything to stop Godric, however.

“Please, you are welcome to call me Godric in private,” the redhead said as he returned to his food once more. “Salazar and I certainly got an earful from Rowena or Helga on quite a number of occasions,” he mused as he tore off a piece of chicken. He placed it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully before he brightened somewhat. “Oh, how about when we managed to offend the brùnaidh?” He offered up with a grin. Salazar sighed, but decided that it was a relatively tame story.

“A brùnaidh?” Blaise asked curiously. “I don’t think I’ve heard of them before. What are they?”

Salazar frowned a little as he tried to think of how to respond. “You likely know of a different name for them,” he said. “They are little creatures, distantly related to the house elves that were brought over to England from Rome. Though house elves are thought to have been first brought into being by the hand of the Roman goddess Vesta, they did intermingle with brùnaidh when they were first brought to the Isles because of their similarities. Like house elves, Brùnaidh are quite small in stature and usually only come out at night as they are considered shy. When given little gifts, often of milk, they will do little tasks in the household in which they decide to make their home. To have a brùnaidh is said to have ensured the household’s prosperity and good fortune.”

Blaise’s brow furrowed before he blinked and his face cleared in recognition. “Ah, you are talking about a brownie. If you fail to leave out offerings for the brownie, then they can cause mischief.”

“Yes, the very same,” Salazar said with a nod. He paused a moment and glanced over to Godric. “When we first came to the land that would one day house the school, it was owned by Rowena’s family. There was a very old broch that stood upon the cliff that overlooked the lake. She was able to convince her father to sign over the rights to the land to us so that we might use it to build a school for magic. During construction, we lived within the broch. The uppermost layers of it had long started to crumble, but it provided shelter for us while we built the rest of the fortifications and buildings for the school.”

Godric picked up his goblet and took a drink before he flashed Salazar a quick grin. “Not long into construction, we noticed little things amiss. Things that were misplaced, though we were sure that they had been left in certain places the night before. Weeds in Helga’s garden had been plucked, a tear in Rowena’s dress was mended. Things like that.” He set his goblet down then. “Helga was, of course, the first to realize what was going on. So, she started to leave out a single little cake or a small bowl of cream on our hearth before we would settle for bed that night. It went on like that for a long time, nearly a whole season.”

“Then, we came to a lull in construction,” Salazar took up the story to give Godric time to eat more. He gave the redhead a pointed look even as he continued. “Brùnaidh are known to cause mischief if they think that the occupants are being lazy. When we took a break from construction after so long, the brùnaidh must have thought that we had suddenly started to neglect our duties. At night, we would find ourselves being pinched awake at odd hours. Our belongings would suddenly be moved or completely missing. Rowena took it in stride and Helga seemed to find it somewhat amusing when she realized what was going on.”

Godric snorted after he swallowed the last bit of his food. “Salazar and I did not take it quite as well, though Salazar might try to tell you otherwise,” he said with a teasing grin.

With a huff, Salazar flicked a bit of bread at Godric. “I was irritable from disrupted sleep so I can hardly be blamed for my actions,” he sniffed. “Besides, it is not my fault that brùnaidh are such fickle creatures and quick to insult.”

“Aye, sure. You called it a ‘pesky imp’, not that we knew what an imp was,” Godric responded in amusement. “And I agreed, calling it a blind imp as I borrowed your word. Helga about had a fit and berated us, telling us that she would have our heads if we chased off the brùnaidh. It is said that if a brùnaidh takes insult, it will leave a home permanently and it will take the household’s prosperity with it. She was worried what that might mean for Hogwarts. So, she made us immediately apologize profusely to the brùnaidh and offer it all sorts of little gifts until she was sure that the little creature was still about. We continued to lay gifts every night for it for a long time after.”

Blaise shook his head in amusement as he picked up his goblet. “What a blunder,” he commented. “Is there still a Brownie that hangs around Hogwarts?” He asked curiously then. “Presumably the house elves take care of all the tasks now and Hogwarts is much larger than a simple household.”

The two founders shared a look before Salazar gave a little shrug. “It is possible, I suppose. It has been over a thousand years since that time. If one is still around, then it likely mingles with the house elves. They are even shyer than house elves so you are not likely to ever see it, so who knows?”

Blaise chuckled and shrugged as well. “I guess we’ll never know.” He stood then. “I can imagine you have all sorts of other stories, but I suppose I should head back to the classroom to help Luna prepare for our after lunch class. I wouldn’t want to leave her on her own with the hoards too long.” He smirked before he gave Godric a little bow of his head. “Though you’re the original Gryffindor, I have to admit that it was an honour to meet the actual person behind the legends. I’ll see you both another time then.”

Salazar said his goodbyes to Blaise in return and the younger man then left. Once they were alone, Salazar let out a breath and then returned to the last of his meal. Godric had started to pick at his food though, so once he was finished Salazar stood and called a house elf to clean up their dishes. “Let us get you back down to my rooms so you can rest.” He said it sternly, not about to take no for an answer. As Godric rested, he could have a set of rooms prepared for the redhead.

With no protests from the other wizard, Salazar guided him away from the Room and back down through the maze of corridors. As soon as Godric was settled in bed, the man was out like a light into a deep sleep. Salazar quietly left him alone to sleep as he retreated into his office and sat down at his desk to grade some of the homework that Luna must have dropped off at some point. He spent some time with this task before he left to prepare rooms for Godric, just as he had promised himself. They were just down the hallway from his own, close to the Greybacks and Einar. Hogwarts was more than happy to provide the space for him and house elves were quick to bring furnishings. It would have to do for now, but Salazar doubted Godric would mind.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Warning: This chapter delves into darker topics than my usual writing that could be triggering to some. I don’t think it’s anything too crazy (compared to some things that are out there), but wanted to put this warning out there just in case. Take care of your mental health, dear readers!

Last Time:

With no protests from the other wizard, Salazar guided him away from the Room and back down through the maze of corridors. As soon as Godric was settled in bed, the man was out like a light into a deep sleep. Salazar quietly left him alone to sleep as he retreated into his office and sat down at his desk to grade some of the homework that Luna must have dropped off at some point. He spent some time with this task before he left to prepare rooms for Godric, just as he had promised himself. They were just down the hallway from his own, close to the Greybacks and Einar. Hogwarts was more than happy to provide the space for him and house elves were quick to bring furnishings. It would have to do for now, but Salazar doubted Godric would mind.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The forest stretched on for as far as the eye could see as the charcoal dark trees stood like silent sentinels all around him, blackened and dead. The forest itself was full of shadows cast by the light of faraway stars, and the edges of it pressed in upon him slowly like encroaching hands that were death chilled and iron strong. The silence was deafening as there was not even a bird, an insect, or any other creature that roamed the night to make a sound while there was a fog that hung low to the ground as it swirled in creeping tendrils.

Salazar turned slowly, unsure of where he was and how he had arrived there. He wanted to call out, to see if anyone was near, and yet something in him told him that it would be a very bad idea to draw attention to himself. Then, just in the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of movement. When he turned to see, nothing had seemingly changed. But then he saw it again, and again once more, always on the very edge of his vision and gone when he turned to look.

It was with sudden realization that the answer came to him, that the trees on the very edges of his vision were not trees at all. As they slowly moved in unsettling and unnatural ways, like marionettes in untrained hands, they seemed to appear out of the darkness as the fog swirled about their feet. They could only be corpses. For all that they had become animated, there was no true life in them. And, as they loomed out of the darkness, Salazar became aware of whispers that rode upon the stale wind of the grove. In the distance there was the roll of what sounded like thunder, or the steady beat of a drum.

The rumble grew louder along with the jarring movements of the dead, their movements quickened. It did not take Salazar long to realize that none of the trees around him were trees at all. The black bark of dead trees was the charred skin of burned bodies. The fragile and spindly branches were creaking fingers that began to reach for him, though Salazar felt rooted in place as the sky became alight with an eerie green glow that grew brighter along with the beating of the distant drum. As the unrecognizable bodies started to press in upon him, the thunder in his ears grew to a crescendo.

Then, in between one blink and the next, Salazar was suddenly awake as the drum continued to thunder in the distance. With a gasp, and adrenaline in his veins, Salazar sat bolt upright on his couch and covered his wildly beating heart with his hand. He did not remember falling asleep on his couch after he had returned from his preparation of a room for Godric, but it was the most logical of explanations. The enchanted window near his desk showed that the winter sun had risen, though only just barely. Breakfast was still likely to have already started, though Salazar did not think he could bring himself to take himself there. The last tendrils of his nightmare still hovered in his peripherals, just out of sight.

However, as he finally shook off the last of his sleep, Salazar finally recognized the drum from his dream was rather someone at his door. As he took measured breaths, they knocked once more. It was a persistent knock, but not a panicked one, so he honestly debated whether or not he wanted to go answer it. Still, his responsibility towards his students won out. So he stood and grabbed his wand to cast a quick spell to straighten his wrinkled clothes before he finally answered the door. However, it was not one of his Slytherin students on the other side. Instead, he found his godfather.

The man had deep bags beneath his eyes and his appearance was rather unkempt. It looked like the man had not slept at all, his appearance not far off from how Salazar felt at the moment. After a beat of silence, Salazar recovered from his surprise and shifted slightly. “Is there something I can help you with?” He asked the question carefully, unsure of how the man would respond after everything.

Sirius flinched and looked from side to side quickly before he turned his eyes back on Salazar. “Harry,” he started out hesitantly, but trailed off quickly.

With a sigh, Salazar took a step back. “Just call me Herrick, please,” he said and then made a motion with his hand. “Come in.”

The grey eyed man hesitated, but then reached down to grab something from next to the door that Salazar had not seen. It turned out to be a very familiar trunk that Sirius dragged into Salazar’s office. “I, uh, thought you might like this back, Harry. Herrick.” The man gave a weak groan then and slid his hands roughly into his hair. “Merlin, I’ve made a total mess of everything,” he said with another moan.

Salazar frowned and glanced over to the bedroom door. Godric was still asleep and would likely be for some time, usual for how the man slept when he recovered from injuries. With his mind made up, Salazar closed his office door behind them and motioned towards the seating area before the hearth. “Go have a seat,” he ordered softly. He glanced at his old trunk for a long moment before he focused on his godfather. The man had hesitated before he went to sit in one of the chairs.

With a deep breath, Salazar ran his fingers through his long hair before he absently braided it as he walked over to a chair as well. “Sirius,” he said gently. “I want to set some things straight since you are here. You have to understand that I lost my memories when I was attacked at my relatives’ home. I have only just started to regain them since returning here to my correct era. Many of my memories are still foggy or have little context.” He trailed off for a moment as he leaned forward in his seat. “Sirius, as Harry, I only knew about you for two years and for most of one of those years I thought you were the one who had betrayed my parents. I thought that you had escaped Azkaban to kill me. I am sorry, but I remember very little of our interactions as most of it was through letters, was it not?”

Sirius hung his head and gave a little nod. “We exchanged a few letters over your fourth year, though you did visit me once in a cave out near Hogsmeade.” At the mention of the cave, Salazar thought he could vaguely remember it. He gave a small nod, but did not comment. “You were supposed to come to my home, where we had the headquarters for the Order at the time, in the summer sometime before you returned to school,” Sirius continued. “But Riddle got to you first before we could move you to safety.”

When the man trailed off, Salazar looked down at his hands for a brief moment and then looked back up at the other man. “Sirius, you were practically a stranger to me,” he told him gently. The other wizard still flinched, but at least he did not protest. “I have interacted with you more as Herrick than I have as Harry. As Harry, I think I was taken by the idea of an adult that actually cared for me as me. I had never had that before as a child. My relatives hated me and most other adults only seemed to want something from me.” He paused as Sirius seemed to shrink further into himself. “I think both of us loved an image of each other that we had built up in our minds. You saw me as a mini James, did you not? A replacement for the friend you had lost.”

At those words, Sirius’ head shot up and he opened his mouth to protest. Salazar calmly held up a hand and shook his head. “I do not doubt that you really did love me, Sirius. However, you cannot deny that we did not really know each other.” He paused a moment before he gave a small smile. “However, that being said, I do believe that this does not stop us from getting to know each other now.”

At Salazar’s proclamation, Sirius’ head shot up and he looked up at the younger man with wide eyes. There was disbelief and just a hint of hope contained within his gaze. “I… I would like that,” he stuttered out before he suddenly bowed his head again. “I want to apologize for my actions when you first arrived back at Hogwarts.”

With a grimace, Salazar shook his head. “I do appreciate the apology, but I was not exactly on my best behaviour myself,” he responded. “Honestly, I am extremely fortunate that the Headmaster even allowed me to stay. We are in the middle of a war and I was a complete unknown. Still, Dumbledore allowed me to stay here and even allowed me a teaching position.” Even if circumstances had not allowed him to continue as a full-time professor. “It was quite fortuitous as I made quite the fool of myself as far as first impressions go.”

“For a man that prides himself over his composure, I still find it hard to believe,” a voice from behind them said.

Salazar did not even look over his shoulder as he rolled his eyes. “Eavesdropping, Gryffindor?” He drawled the words. It was so easy to fall back into familiar habits. He noticed Sirius’ wide eyes then and snorted softly. “Come join us then, Godric, rather than hover in the background.” The redhead joined them quickly and there was not even an ounce of shame in his expression. Salazar had to hold back another roll of his eyes, though he allowed a small smile to play about his lips. “Godric, I want to introduce you to my godfather. This is Sirius Black. Sirius, I would like to introduce you to Godric Gryffindor.”

As they were introduced to each other, Sirius had slid to the edge of his seat. Godric had instead leaned back in his seat and regarded the grey eyed wizard with a critical eye. “You are one of the wizards from the gates. You pointed a wand in Salazar’s direction,” he said slowly. Godric was a very larger than life type of man, Salazar had always thought. He had the deep and booming voice that was fitting for the command of an army, though there had always been a life to him that was bright and jovial. When nothing remained but an intense seriousness, Salazar would readily admit that he was glad that such a look had never been directed at him. Godric and he had had their arguments in the past, but they could never truly remain angry with each other.

Sirius swallowed thickly and quickly scooted back in his seat again as he straightened. He looked almost like a child who was about to be chastised, a sight that made Salazar cover a smile. “It was a misunderstanding on my part,” Sirius rushed out. “Did Herrick, uh, tell you of the war we’re in the middle of?” When Godric only nodded, Sirius hurried to continue. “I wasn’t thinking straight and jumped to conclusions. It’s why I’m here now! I’m just trying to apologize for my foolishness.”

There was silence for several long moments before Godric gave a sharp nod and then bared his teeth in a smile that held no humor. “Good. You might be his godfather, but I know Salazar better than anyone.”

Salazar really did roll his eyes now and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Menace,” he muttered, though loud with the intention for Godric to hear. The man’s serious expression fractured and he gave a snort as his eyes sparkled with mischief. Sirius could only look between the two of them with confusion.

“Quite,” Godric rumbled in amusement. He looked over to Sirius then and looked the man over. “Well, actions speak louder than any words will say, so we shall see.” He gave a small smirk as he leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on his knees. “I shall hold you to it, you can be sure of that.”

The older man gave a quick nod. “Yes, of course! I won’t disappoint, I promise. I promise to do better!”

“Perhaps you should promise Salazar that, not me,” Godric drawled as he tilted his chin up a little. Salazar tried not to roll his eyes yet again, but did raise an eyebrow. Godric ignored him, though Salazar knew the man well enough to see the hidden smile in the corner of his lips. The redhead was enjoying the response he had gotten from Sirius.

“Perhaps you should make that promise as well, Godric Gryffindor,” Salazar cut in as he imitated Godric’s words. The redheaded wizard immediately cleared his throat and straightened once more as he placed his palms against his knees instead. “Yes, that is what I thought,” Salazar drawled and then shook his head. “That is enough from the both of you. I would rather have an enjoyable conversation rather than an endless cycle of apologies.” He stood up as he spoke and went over to the trunk that Sirius had brought. He opened it up and took a moment to just soak in the familiarity of it.

When he returned to the others, he carried the album that contained pictures of his parents. He remembered that it had been a precious possession and it was as good of a time as any to ask Sirius about them. So, he took a seat next to the man and held it out to him. Sirius gave him a curious look, but took the book and flipped it open. Immediately, the man’s breath caught and he stared down at the wizarding photo that took up most of the page. “Oh. I remember when this was taken,” he said as he brushed his fingers over the photo of baby Harry with his parents.

Sirius gave a little smile. “It was taken at your first birthday party,” he said. “Well, as much of a party that it could have been. Your parents had already gone into hiding with you a few months before. Lily wasn’t much of a cook, but she put everything into the cake she made for you. I couldn’t make it to the party myself, but she sent me a piece of the cake along with a copy of this photo. Lily was thoughtful like that. Could have a temper every bit as fiery as her hair, but she was amazing. She might have been a Gryffindor student, but she had friends in all of the houses. Even Slytherin. Though Snape called her a mudblood in fifth year and that ended that. She might have been friends with other Slytherins, but I’m not positive. We weren’t exactly close during our school years, though James always seemed to follow her like a lost puppy. It’s a marvel she eventually fell for him as she spent most of our school years pretty much hating him.”

“Hold on,” Salazar interrupted as he untangled Sirius’ ramblings. “My mother was friends with Professor Snape?” His recovered memories, and even just his more recent interactions with the dour man, were not exactly the most pleasant. He was well aware of how people could change over the years, but it seemed impossible to think that his mother and that man had been friends once.

As he looked up owlishly, Sirius cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah. No one ever told you that? They had a falling out though, I suppose. Snape’s always been a bit of a brat. Not that we were any better in school, admittedly. We all made choices that we regret. Some more than others,” he muttered and then shook his head. “I told you that we used to play pranks on the Slytherins. A lot of them were directed at Snape. He learned some nasty hexes in retaliation, so things kinda devolved as we all grew older. We were idiot schoolboys thinking more with our impulses than any actual brain.” He stopped then and blinked before he turned his eyes on Godric. The redhead gave him a curious look. “Did Herrick actually dye all your clothes orange?”

Salazar snorted loudly as Godric grimaced and rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh, definitely. A horribly unnatural and vibrant shade that stuck for a week no matter what I wore. It is more accurate to say that he anchored the spell on me rather than my actual clothes. When he finally removed the curse, all of my clothes returned to normal. Eventually.”

“And then he tried to get me back for it,” Salazar said slyly. “And what lesson did we learn from this?”

Godric frowned and looked away. “Do not, under any circumstances, mess with Salazar Slytherin’s food,” he finally muttered. When Sirius watched him with curiosity, Godric ignored him and looked pointedly at the album that lay forgotten in the older wizard’s lap. “What are some of the other images in there?”

Though he still gave Godric another curious stare for a long moment, Sirius turned his attention back to the album and flipped the page. For the next hour or so, the three men flipped through the album while Sirius told the stories behind each photo. Some he did not know, but most of them he did. Salazar could not recall anyone ever telling him so much about his parents when he had still been a young teen. He almost felt like a child again as he listened to his godfather speak about Lily and James. It was nice after everything. Especially the nightmare he tried not to think about. It was not the first time he had dreamed such a thing, though it was just as terrifying while in the midst of it.

A moment of peace like that helped to ease some of the stress of the war. There were too few of those moments sometimes. And, as the week slowly passed, the war seemed to press further down upon them. Voldemort had increased the raids he sent out and the Ministry had established what they called the Muggle-born Registration Commission, exactly as Hermione had predicted. The Daily Prophet, still undoubtedly under the Dark Lord’s control, had run an article to announce the new department and explain their motivations. There had been an uproar at the announcement, as the Ministry had declared that they had decided to undertake what they called a “survey of so-called Muggle-borns”.

The Ministry had announced that their Department of Mysteries had recently undertaken research that had apparently proved that magic could only be passed though family lines. Therefore, if there was no proven wizardry in a witch or wizard’s ancestral line, then the mundane born magicals could have only obtained their magic through theft. Every mage outside of Hogwarts had been registered through their Registration Act, but their Muggle-born Registration Commission took it a step further. Those with mundane ancestry who had registered originally were called forward to clear their names of any supposed wrongdoing. Already registered under their original Act, any mundane born magicals who failed to respond could be heavily prosecuted.

The night that the article had come out, Salazar had rounded up his Slytherins and gave them a refresher on his lecture about the true origin of magic. Whatever research the so-called Department of Mysteries had undertaken was a crock full of shit. Salazar made sure that his students understood this. It was up to them if they wanted to believe him, but at least they would have the facts and not propaganda from the controlled Ministry.

With the sudden increase of activity on the warfront, Salazar spent much of the next few days in the Northmen’s camp as the others came and went to discuss the next steps they must take. Hati and Skoll stayed by him the entire time while Hilde was often a common fixture in the discussions as well. Most of the Northmen still were unaware of the horcruxes because they wanted to contain the flow of information, but Hilde had been told of the particulars. She had been suitably horrified by the notion, but it had only strengthened her resolve to see the Dark Lord defeated. Even with her fresh perspective, however, there was not much progress to be made. Salazar felt like he was a step behind Riddle even if they had deprived him of Tyrfing and had already destroyed most of his horcruxes. And, through it all, Luna was nowhere to be seen. Salazar tried to not let her absence worry him and focused instead on their other problems.

It was a week later that they had held a discussion in the Room of Requirement after dinner. It was late and most had left to head to their beds, but Salazar had remained along with Godric. Exhausted, but not willing to head down to his bed just yet, Salazar sighed softly and rubbed his hands over his face. “I can see that you have not been sleeping well, Salazar,” Godric’s voice broke the silence and startled Salazar from his thoughts. “Are the nightmares back?” Godric asked from his position across from Salazar as he fiddled with the translation charm still wrapped about his wrist. Salazar had started to teach him English whenever they had time, but Godric still relied on the charm. But he had digressed and avoided the question.

“It is the burned forest again,” Salazar admitted as he dropped his hands and turned his head to watch the fire that burned in the Room’s hearth. “I have had it nearly every night. Sometimes I will dream of recovered memories, but then I will suddenly find myself within the blackened forest once more.” He sighed then and stood up. “I just hope that I will get through this war with my sanity intact.”

Godric stood as well and clapped his hand on Salazar’s shoulder. “If you can knock some sense into me, then you will survive just fine,” Godric said as he headed for the door. Salazar followed after him with only a mutter that might have been him questioning the validity of Godric’s statement. The redhead said nothing as he pretended not to hear, but he hid a small smile as he opened the door for the both of them.

“Perhaps I will take a dreamless sleep potion,” Salazar said tiredly as he dragged a hand through his hair. It was a habit he could not seem to shake lately, though his hair had long been dragged out of its braids that he had put them in that morning. “Too much can be addictive and humans are meant to dream, but sleepless nights are just as unhealthy I would imagine.”

The wizard beside him gave a roll of his eyes. “You might be on to something,” he teased as they walked through the quiet halls. Some of the portraits whispered from within their frames, but most feigned sleep as they passed them. Firelight burned in their sconces high on the walls and threw shadows upon the vaulted ceiling. In contrast, it made the many small diamond panes of glass glitter like starlight in the arched windows. There was something ethereal about Hogwarts at night.

However, as they passed down into the darker corridors of the dungeons, a voice called out to him. “Herrick!” The voice was Sirius and it carried down the corridor, startling in the quiet that night brought. Salazar turned in confusion as he halted his steps so that his godfather could catch up. Godric had stopped not even a few steps away as he crossed his arms over his chest. Before Salazar could ask what Sirius needed, the man skidded to a stop and quickly gulped down a breath. “Bloody hell, I am glad you haven’t gone to bed yet,” he said as he ignored Godric’s twitch.

“Did something happen?”

Sirius gave a sharp nod at the question and straightened from the slight hunch he had fallen into as he came to a stop before the younger men. “We just received reports that there has been a raid by a group of Deatheaters in the coastal village of Forvie, north of Aberdeen. Bellatrix was spotted.”

At the announcement, there was stunned silence for only a moment before Salazar gave a curse. “If you were to appear, she would be compelled to face you, correct?” He said as he spun on his heel and drew his wand. His sword was ever present on his hip, under the enchantment as it always was, but he summoned his cloak. They did not have any time to lose, so he started back the way they had just come.

“I believe so, yeah,” Sirius agreed as he jogged forward to stride quickly by Salazar’s side. Godric took his place next to him, as he always did.

Salazar gave a sharp nod as he caught his cloak and settled it about his shoulders. Godric had copied him, though he had not said a word since Sirius’ appearance. “Good,” Salazar started out. “I will need your assistance to keep her from escaping.” He pinned his cloak in place the next moment, his mind already working overtime. “We do not have time for this. Hogwarts, be a dear and give us a shortcut?” The only response was a sudden rumbling before an archway opened up before the next turn of the dungeon corridor.

As they stepped into the new passage, they hurried up a few steps before they were suddenly in the Entrance Hall. Sirius gave a low whistle as they hurried on towards the castle doors and then beyond. “That’s useful.”

“Founder’s privilege,” was Salazar’s short response, though he flashed a quick smile. None of them said anything else as they ran down the path towards the gate. Once they passed through, Salazar turned to Sirius quickly. “Take Godric there. I will follow close behind,” he ordered.

“You know where you’re going?” Sirius asked even as he placed a hand on Godric’s shoulder.

Salazar gave a quick nod as Godric gave him a glance, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. The sword in the Headmaster’s office had yet to be returned to the man, but it was probably for the best with how dangerous the weapon had become. “I will find my way there,” Salazar reassured. “Now go! We cannot afford to miss this opportunity!” Sirius gave Salazar a look, but thankfully did not protest. As soon as the two were gone, Salazar unsheathed his wand and twirled it quickly. He knew Godric’s magical signature as well as he knew his own, enough that he easily picked it out of the rest of the magic that hung in the air. Within the next moment, Salazar was gone as he followed the trail that Godric’s magic had left behind.

Salazar emerged into chaos where he immediately needed to duck out of the way of a sizzling spell that sped past his head with a high pitched whistle. The Scottish wizarding village might have originally been a sleepy little village with quaint little cottages, the scent of saltwater heavy in the air, but the night was broken by screams and laughter. The very air felt overcharged by magic and the gaping Dark Mark hung high in the sky as it cast an eerie green glow on the village below. Flashing white masks were illuminated by the flickering of spells as they whisked through the air, set in shapeless dark robes, as Deatheaters spread out through the streets.

Against the horde, Salazar recognized several Order members and spotted some Northerners among them as well. There was always a crew of warriors that remained prepared for the call to arms, to respond to any instances of deatheater activity. Salazar was sure that it was Wulfwynn’s crew that had been on the current rotation. The shieldmaiden was probably somewhere in the throng, but Salazar did not have the time nor need to search her out. He knew she and the rest of her group would be fine, while he had other things to worry about.

Godric and Sirius had already moved on from their initial arrival point, so Salazar searched for Godric’s magic through the mess. Once he latched onto it once more, Salazar took off after them. It would be hard to miss Godric’s flamelike hair, a beacon in the near darkness of the night. Salazar ducked beneath another spell as he surged forward and jabbed his wand towards the Deatheater who had tried to curse him. The man went down with a scream, but Salazar had already moved onward. Just another blackened tree in the forest.

As he spotted Godric through an alleyway between two cottages, loud laughter suddenly pierced through the air. The sound of it made a chill shoot down Salazar’s spine as it was a familiar sound, one that he recognized from years ago and from before he had taken on the name of Salazar Slytherin. This must be Bellatrix Lestrange, and she had been present at the attack on his relatives. With his destination in sight, Salazar hurried his steps and tightened his hand around his wand. As he stepped into the village square, Salazar was quick to find Bellatrix among the chaos.

The woman’s hair was a mess of curls about her head, just as tumultuous as the rest of her. Her eyes were wide with madness and her hand was curled like a claw around her wand. Without even a glance at his arrival, she jerked her wand up then and a flash of green erupted from the tip with something akin to a roar. Salazar immediately called up a wall of stone to block the death curse. As it crumbled away, she gave him a wild grin as she faced him finally. “Oh, another toy for me to play with! Dearie me, I’m so popular!” She cackled and spun to send three rapid spells in Sirius’ direction instead. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Siri! It’s been so long since you’ve played with me, dear cousin!”

Sirius ducked beneath two of the spells while Godric blocked the last with a conjured shield. Salazar flicked his wand as he moved to a position that would block her between them, but she danced away and jabbed at the ground near his feet. He wheeled back quickly and drew up a shield as the ground exploded where he had stood just moments before. They had to work quickly even if they had the advantage of three against one. It might seem underhanded, but they were handicapped by their use of non-deadly spellwork while she was not likely to have such qualms. They wanted her alive, but she would not care if she killed them. And, he had to hand it to her, she was quite quick on her feet. She noticed her advantage and pressed it mercilessly.

However, Salazar found that they were lucky enough to fall into a rhythm quickly. Godric and he had fought together for long enough that they could anticipate each move that the other made. At the same time, Sirius revealed himself to be a rather adaptive dueler and quite inventive in his use of spellwork. So, while they had to fight off a few interlopers who attempted to bring them down from behind, the three wizards finally managed to bring Bellatrix to her knees with a well placed temporary paralysis spell from Godric. Sirius knocked her unconscious in the next moment to ensure she would not go anywhere. Then, as Sirius remained over her to stand guard, Salazar and Godric moved through the village to help bring the incursion to an end.

As things quieted finally, Salazar left the clean up in Wulfwynn’s capable hands. She would partner with whatever Order member had assumed a leadership role and they would round up every prisoner or dead. He had his own prisoner that needed to be taken care of, so he returned to where Sirius waited for them. Godric remained only a few steps behind, a grim set to his jaw as he kept his wand in his hand.

As they approached, Sirius breathed out softly as he gazed down at his unconscious cousin with a complicated look on his face. He shook himself in the next moment before he looked up at Salazar. “What was your plan? We cannot take her to Hogwarts,” he said finally, a tightness to his voice and his grey eyes dull. He knew as well as Salazar what needed to come next, but it was not something that came easy even in the face of all the atrocities that Bellatrix Lestrange had taken part in. Salazar had locked away his own feelings on the matter, pressed forward to do what needed to be done.

“I will take her to the fen,” Salazar said in response as he crouched down next to Bellatrix. “Return to Hogwarts, Sirius. Report back to Dumbledore and fill him in on our accomplishment. Ric and I will get the information we need from her.”

There was silence for a long moment as Sirius did not move. “Are you going to kill her?” His question was quiet as his hand wrapped around his upper arm where he still bled from a close call with a wayward cutting curse.

Salazar glanced up at the man’s movement before he turned his face away once more. “You do not need to see it,” he responded finally, just as quiet. “Go get that wound looked at, Sirius. You were lucky that it did not sever your arm completely. Let Ric and I take care of this. It is not a burden you should shoulder.”

“It should not be a burden you should carry either,” Sirius whispered tightly as his hand clenched into a fist. He closed his eyes then and breathed out a weary groan. “I wished things had been different, Trixie,” Sirius murmured and then he was finally gone.

Godric said nothing as he looked at the spot the older man had been a moment ago before he turned to look at Salazar. As Salazar met his gaze, Godric inclined his head before he disappeared with no words needed between them. WIth a steadying breath, Salazar wrapped his hand around Bellatrix’s arm and then disappeared after his friend with a soft pop.

When they reappeared in front of a familiar archway, Salazar released the witch in his grasp and then straightened. He unsheathed his wand instead and used a wordless spell to levitate Bellatrix’s still unconscious form through the druidic archway. As he stepped through, he saw Godric a short distance away as he made his way up to the top of the hill that was the best vantage point to see Salazar’s land. It was at the pinnacle that he waited for Salazar to join him.

 “Are you ready?” Godric asked Salazar as he manipulated Bellatrix’s body so that she was on her knees, invisible shackles about her wrists so that her arms were suspended in the air above her head. It kept her upright, though her head was bowed. She made for a pitiful image in that span of a moment, enough that Godric had to remind himself just what the woman had done. He had done his own research into known members of the Dark Lord’s followers. He wondered if Salazar needed to brace himself in the same way.

But Salazar did not even spare the other wizard a glance as he sheathed his wand once more. His response was only, “Should I not be the one asking you that question?” Godric gave an noncommittal hum back as he walked closer to stand beside his friend, his expression grim. They both knew what parts they had to play. So Salazar focused his attention on the restrained witch as he placed one hand on his hip in an arrogant pose. “Shall we get started? I know you are awake, Bellatrix Lestrange.”

A little giggle escaped the woman, though she did not raise her head. “Oh? You know me, but isn’t it rude not to introduce yourself?” She raised her head finally and bared her bloodied teeth at them. In an absent observance, Salazar thought she might have been beautiful once. Though that beauty had long decayed as her face was gaunt and her eyes wild.

“I go by many names,” Salazar drawled after a moment of consideration. “However, you may call me Salazar.” They had already agreed that Bellatrix would not survive the war. She was one of the Dark Lord’s most fanatical followers and far past the point where she might have been able to be saved. Salazar hoped too that they might be able to use the misconceptions about him to their advantage, though he would admit that part of him wanted to watch as everything the fanatics thought they knew crumbled before their eyes.

Indeed, at the admittance of his name, Bellatrix’s eyes grew wider still until Salazar thought they might fall out of her head. “Impossible,” she breathed out as she pulled on her invisible shackles. “Salazar? Salazar Slytherin?” There was reverence in her voice that made Salazar feel sick. Bellatrix’s reverence disappeared in the next moment, however, and she screeched as she leaned forward. “No! Impossible! Prove it!”

“I really wish I did not have to prove myself to the likes of you,” Salazar hissed in the language of the serpents with a sneer, his voice laced with disdain. Bellatrix was likely to recognize the speech even if she could not discern its meaning. He would have to play to her misconceptions, even if it made the sickness in his stomach linger. “And surely you do not think that even death could stop me?”

Before him, Bellatrix had gone very still. “No,” she breathed out. “Impossible.” She kept repeating herself and Salazar wanted to feel irritated, but could not gather up the emotion. He faked it instead as he twisted his lips in a deeper sneer. He said nothing as it seemed to shock the witch into movement. He wondered if she would wrench her arms from their sockets with how much she flailed. “But why work with my cousin?” She demanded the answers to her questions in a screech. “You must know what he thinks of Slytherins! The filthy muggle-lover that he is!”

Salazar gave a chuckle that felt like poisoned honey as it passed over his lips. “Because, my dear, I cannot leave Hogwarts with the likes of Albus Dumbledore,” he purred. “Where better than at his side to bring him down? They will all be led to slaughter before they even realize what snake they have allowed amongst their ranks.” A gleam had sparked once more upon Bellatrix’s face and it was as if she had looked into the face of her god.

“What do you want from me, my lord?” She breathed out as she leaned as far as forward as her arms allowed. It must have been painful, but the witch did not seem to notice or even care. She watched Salazar avidly and seemed to hold her breath in anticipation. Salazar wanted to cut her tongue from her mouth for the words she spewed, but immediately felt disgusted with himself.

“I need information from you,” the dark haired wizard said as he tilted his head back a little. “The man who claims to be my descendant, he has in his possession some artifacts that were precious to me. I want them back.”

Bellatrix tilted her head in a birdlike manner as she flexed her spindly fingers above her head. “Why not ask him yourself, my lord?” She asked before her eyes grew wide once more and she threw herself forward as if she could prostrate herself before him. “I do not presume to order you around, my lord! Forgive me!”

It was almost sad to watch Bellatrix, to see how far she had fallen. What could she have made of herself if she had been given a better chance? Salazar gave a small shake of his head. “Pick yourself up, woman,” he said with words that dripped acid, furious with himself. With Godric. With Cayden. He felt like he watched the results of their mistakes. “I do not wish to reveal myself to the Dark Lord just yet and that should be reason enough. So tell me, Bellatrix Lestrange. Did he give you any of these artifacts for safekeeping?”

Her eyes narrowed somewhat, a spark of defiance in her eyes as her mood took another violent shift. She kept her mouth shut, so Salazar leaned forward. “Come now, my dear. Why stay silent? It is a simple question.” It was clear she had worshipped Voldemort too long to just give up information to anyone, even to Salazar Slytherin. “Do you think that my heir would be happy to hear you had not helped me? We have the same goals, do we not?” She grit her teeth and bowed her head, so Salazar gave an exaggerated sigh. He ignored the quick glance that Godric sent him. “Well, it was worth an attempt.”

Salazar unsheathed his wand then and crouched down in front of Bellatrix. “You know, there are no good men in war. Not the ones of the battlefield. Each side feels justified in their actions, commit atrocities against their enemies. Each side has decimated families.” He flicked his wand and forced the witch’s chin up. As he locked eyes with her, he gave her a humourless smirk. “What sets each faction apart, is how they treat their prisoners. How they treat their allies.”

“You preaching at me?” Bellatrix hissed out as she strained uselessly against her magical restraints.

“Never said I was a good man, or even that I am on the right side,” Salazar whispered. With a soft hum then, Salazar straightened. “You know, the Dark Lord could have brought change to the wizarding world once. He had the charisma to lead. Too bad everything he thought he knew was based on a lie. Or perhaps he knew parts of the truth and just did not care.” She glared at him and did not respond. “I know he gave you an ornate golden cup, small and engraved with a badger. Where do you safeguard it?” Without warning then, Salazar plunged down into Bellatrix’s mind with Legilimency. He pierced through the feeble barriers she hastily tried to raise and twisted like a serpent through her thoughts.

When he asked her about the cup, she would be unable to help her thoughts about it. Her memories of the cup came to the forefront of her mind and Salazar grabbed onto them firmly. They were disjointed, but he got what he had been looking for. He also got his first look at what Voldemort had looked like before his resurrection. The man’s face was gaunt and skeletal, his eyes a bloody scarlet. He might have been a handsome man once, but there was a wraith like quality to the wizard’s appearance. His resurrection had given him a more skeletal - serpent like - image, but Salazar could see the similarities.

Having found what he needed, Salazar immediately pulled from Bellatrix’s mind and had to force down the sudden need to vomit. “The cup is in your vault in Gringotts’,” Salazar said icily instead.

Bellatrix had collapsed in her binds, but gave a piercing scream in response. “You’ll never get in there without me! I’ll never let you in there!” She screamed at him as her fingers curled into claws above her head.

“Gringotts is run by goblins,” Salazar said in a mockingly gentle voice. “It is not the first time I have dealt with their kind, so I have no need of your help.” He pointed his wand at Bellatrix and leveled it with her face. “May you find peace in your next life. Làimh a' bhàis. ” The spell’s incantation felt heavy upon his tongue as a familiar weight fell upon his shoulders. The magic itself was colourless and appeared almost like a shift in the air. Death was not instantaneous, but there was nothing Bellatrix could do now. Avada Kedavra was a curse that could only be used upon specific requirements, though he could force his magic to respond with a strong enough will. Instead, the Hand of Death spell was easier to cast, though could be warded against if one knew how. Salazar doubted Bellatrix had such knowledge.

True to his assumptions, a band of black appeared around Bellatrix’s throat. It looked eerie in a way, though Salazar understood that it was painless. It was merely the mark left behind by the magic. As he watched, unable to turn his head away, Bellatrix’s head fell back and her eyes rolled. In the next moment, she collapsed lifelessly and was still. As soon as her body settled, it was like something snapped inside of him. Salazar immediately turned away and vomited, unable to shake the feeling of her mind and the part he had played.

Godric was suddenly there with a steadying hand, no longer a silent observer from behind the witch. “You are a good man, Salazar Slytherin,” he said firmly in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring. “If death ever comes easily to you, then it is then that I would be worried for you. It is because you feel this guilt that you are a good man still. Even in this war.”

“It is just another tree in the burned forest,” Salazar murmured, the only reply he deemed appropriate as a response. He spit onto the ground then before he moved away from the stinking bile. He ignored Godric as the man banished it and instead focused on the erection of a pyre. It was the least Bellatrix deserved after everything. Godric watched him quietly for only a moment before he joined him. Salazar did not want his attempts at comfort, so was glad that Godric said nothing more. They worked quietly together to construct the pyre and Salazar avoided Godric’s gaze all the while.

Once Bellatrix’s body was laid out upon the pyre, Salazar drew his wand once more. He had used the labour of his hands to build the pyre and the two wizards had laid out the witch’s body once it was finished. Now, with his wand outstretched, Salazar drew in a breath. “May you, Bellatrix Lestrange, go on to your next life where I send you with the hope that you mind find the peace you never had in this life,” he prayed softly. A pulse of his magic had the pyre catch alight as flames leapt for the dark sky. It felt like a lifetime, but it had only been a few short hours since Sirius had intercepted them.

As he stared at the burning pyre, Salazar crossed his arms across his chest. “We have to move quickly now,” he said quietly. He could feel Godric shift from next to him, but the man thankfully did not say a word. “The Dark Lord will know that Bellatrix has been compromised. Bellatrix Lestrange was married, so he may have her husband check her vault. If we get to it first and the Dark Lord discovers that the Cup is missing, he will know that we have been hunting his horcruxes. He will hide Nagini and we will never find her.”

Salazar turned away from the pyre then, his brow furrowed and his lips set in a firm line. “We need to return to Hogwarts and collect everyone together.” The sun had not even risen yet, dawn likely far off still, but Salazar did not pay it any mind. None of the others would care either once they learned the reason for it.

“At your side,” Godric said before both men disappeared with the pop of disapparition. When they appeared at the gates, Sirius was there as he had waited for them. He immediately straightened from where he had leaned against the post, his face anxious as he looked Salazar over. Godric nodded at the man, then brushed past Salazar with a pat to his friend’s shoulder. “I will gather everyone,” he told Salazar quietly.

As Godric made his way up towards the castle, Sirius hesitated in front of Salazar. “You alright there, Herrick?” He asked after a moment, his voice quiet. “Did you… get what you need?” Salazar had the impression that his godfather handled him like he would glass. It was not a feeling that he enjoyed.

“We have the location of the artifact,” he said after a moment. He huffed out then and moved past Sirius. “You forget, Sirius, that things are very different where I am from.” As he started up towards the castle, Sirius hurried to catch up with him. Salazar glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “You are welcome to join us.”

“You’re meeting now? It’s only three in the morning. Or, well, close enough,” Sirius said with some surprise.

With a nod, Salazar looked up to the castle. Much of it was dark, but there were windows that were lit. Hogwarts was never completely dark. “We have to move quickly so we do not lose our chance. Once the Dark Lord realizes that Bellatrix is gone, there is no telling what he might do. We do not know how he will respond. And, we do not have the luxury of waiting to find out.”

There was silence from Sirius, but then the man breathed a heavy sigh. “You’re not wrong,” he said finally. “I’ll join you then. Though, you know, Albus is none too happy with you.”

“I am not the pawn that he wanted in Harry Potter,” Salazar responded softly before he gave a quiet chuckle. “He is an intelligent man with a lot of sway given his position of Headmaster. I have heard the rumors that he is the only one that the Dark Lord has ever feared. I do believe that the Headmaster tries his best, but I am also aware that he is still just a man. He makes mistakes, forgets the little details for the larger picture. He has to make hard choices for the plans he has made.” Salazar paused then and shook his head. “I read the book that Skeeter printed as part of Ministry propaganda. I do not know how much of it is plain truth, or events spun to fit the narrative that Skeeter wanted to portray. If even a little of it is a grain of truth, then I suspect that Dumbledore clings to a belief of second chances.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose as he adjusted his cloak. “Why would you even spend good money on drivel like that?”

With an answering snort, Salazar opened up the door to the castle and motioned for Sirius to step through first. “If you can believe it, Hermione was the one to purchase the book originally. She lent it to me. I believe we are both of the opinion that sometimes it is better to understand your opponent's mindset rather than be blindsided by their rhetoric.”

“I guess I can get behind that,” Sirius muttered as he stepped into the Entrance Hall.

Salazar smiled some and inclined his head. “I would also admit that I was curious, but that is neither here nor there. But, it definitely made me believe that the Headmaster has a near obsession with second chances. When my parents were killed, with the Prophecy over my head, he would have known that it had placed a target upon my back. I can understand his logic in placing me with my mundane family. However, he must have known about the relationship between Petunia and Lily. He must have suspected how they would treat me, though he perhaps had hoped that Aunt Petunia would look past her feud with my mother because I was a child. And, even if those hopes were dashed, then I would come to Hogwarts as a pliable child because of the wonders of magic that had opened up to me.”

“What I know of your childhood, what I know of Petunia, we are lucky that you have grown to be such a good man,” Sirius grumbled as they made their way through the silent corridors. “You weren’t shown any affection as a child, were you? We’re lucky you didn’t grow up hating muggles as you would have been more likely to join Riddle rather than stand against him.”

With a soft hum, Salazar trailed his fingers over the cool stone of the staircase railing. “Dumbledore took a great risk, yes. Yet, it has not gone the way he planned. I will stand across from the Dark Lord, but it is not to the beat of Dumbledore’s drum. We do not share the same ideals, many of which he likely tried to impart on me during my time as a student. I do not rely on him as he had likely hoped Harry Potter would.” Salazar chuckled softly again, though his smile did not quite reach his eyes. “Yes, I can see how he is not happy with me.”

Sirius was quiet for a long time as they continued through the floors of the castle and along the long corridors. “I have had many of my long held beliefs challenged lately,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet, but still quite loud in the silence of the night hallway. “But I am thankful for it. It gives me hope that if even I can change, then there might be hope for the rest of the wizarding world as well.”

“Change starts with small ripples that will eventually grow into large waves given enough time,” Salazar murmured in response. “We cannot be afraid to take those first steps even if we do not see the results in our lifetime.” Sirius only hummed quietly in agreement, lost to his thoughts suddenly. Salazar let him be as they continued upwards towards the Room of Requirement.

When they reached the Room, it was empty as Godric was likely still gathering the others. Salazar placed his hand against the wall and requested a comfortable gathering space for them. As he opened the door, the Room provided a warmly lit room with multiple plush chairs and couches. Sirius took a seat near the fire and warmed his hands, but Salazar could not stay still as his thoughts started to stumble over each other. He removed his cloak and absently threw it over the back of a chair. As he started to pace in front of the hearth, Salazar ran his fingers through his hair. It had long since fallen out of the simple plait he had put it in before they had left for Forvie.

“Everyone used to say that you looked just like your father,” Sirius’ voice interrupted Salazar’s thoughts.

As he came to an abrupt halt, Salazar looked over to his godfather. “What?”

The older man gave a little shrug as he leaned back in his seat. “Just that. I know I’ve done it, too. Everyone used to say that you look like your father, though you have your mother’s eyes.” He shook his head then and looked over to the dancing flames in the hearth instead. “They’re wrong, though. With your hair grown out and your glasses gone, you don’t look much like James. Maybe a little bit. You look more like Fleamont actually, your grandfather. I only ever saw him as an old man because James was born late in his parents’ lives, but I have seen a painting of young Fleamont and Euphemia. Euphemia being your grandmother, of course. Knowing that you’re Harry… I’ve realized that you look a lot like your grandfather. Not an exact copy, but close enough. James always did take after his mother, even though he couldn’t escape that Potter hair,” he rambled on as Salazar stared speechlessly.

Before Salazar had a chance to reply, the door to the Room suddenly opened and Hermione was the first to stumble in. “You better be providing coffee, Herrick,” she grumbled as she trudged over to a couch and folded herself into the corner. She grabbed a blanket that appeared on the back of the couch a moment later and spread it over her lap. Her hair was messier than usual and she only wore an oversized sweater with leggings. Salazar had to wonder just how much sleep she had gotten so far, though had to assume that she had likely gone to bed well after midnight like usual.

As the dark haired wizard called for a house elf and requested drinks, several more individuals started to trickle into the Room. Luna was the next to appear, dressed in a white nightgown that flowed about her slender legs with every movement she made. She curled into a chair near the hearth and closed her eyes, her normal smile gone. Salazar tried not to take it as a bad sign. He quickly turned away and greeted the Greybacks as they arrived together. Fenrir took a position near a window as he gave Sirius a passing glance. Skoll and Hati immediately approached Salazar.

“What is going on?” Skoll demanded quietly.

Salazar sighed softly and shook his head. “Things are about to move very quickly. There is a lot to go over, so you’ll have to hear it along with everyone else.” He didn’t want to have to repeat himself. “Just know that none of tonight started out as anything planned.” He gave a little smile, though it felt strained.

Hati regarded him closely, but then gave a sharp nod. He took Skoll’s arm and led his twin away. As he did, the other set of twins arrived with a harrowed and pale Draco between them. Fred and George selected a couch and pressed into either corner as they pulled Draco down between them. Salazar hid a small smile at how the redheaded twins doted on the blonde, while his gaze turned towards the door again as Einar arrived with Charlie. Once the war was over, he wondered if the Alfa would follow the dragon tamer to Romania.

As a house elf arrived to set up coffee and tea, Blaise arrived with Godric close behind. “Please, help yourselves to the drinks,” he invited them all as he motioned with his hand. When Godric approached him then, Salazar glanced over to the door once more. “Did you speak with Bill?” They would need his help in particular to speak with the goblins of Gringotts.

“He said he would be along shortly,” Godric responded as he folded his arms across his chest. Salazar gave a nod and then turned away to look into the fire as he tried to formulate his thoughts.

When the door opened a short time later, Salazar lifted his head and turned to see Bill had arrived. “Good. We are all here,” he said before he motioned to an empty seat. “Please, help yourself to a drink and then take a seat.” He waited for Bill to be settled before he drew a measured breath. “I want to apologize for stealing you from your beds,” he started out. “However, this was a matter that could not wait.” He paused and glanced over to Sirius. “Just after midnight, Sirius came to Godric and I. You all may or may not be aware, but the wizarding village of Forvie was targeted by the Dark Lord tonight. Bellatrix Lestrange herself was also spotted.”

There were several shocked murmurs from around the semi-circle, along with the restless rustling of their movements. “I can assume that you went to Forvie?” Hermione asked as she clutched at the edges of the blanket in her lap. Her eyes were on the ripped and bloodied state of his tunic. The dark fabric hid the blood well, but she must have noticed it at some point. He had not taken the chance to change yet and it honestly had not even passed his mind until that moment. He forced it out of his thoughts and gave a nod before he recounted what had happened in Forvie. Once he had finished that tale, he gave them also a vague explanation of their interrogation of Bellatrix Lestrange. There was silence in the Room as Salazar fell quiet himself. Only the crackling of the fire behind him kept the silence from being overbearing.

“What now?” The quiet voice was Hermione’s once more. She had slid her hands into her tight curls and pulled on them nervously. Salazar was sure her thoughts raced faster than even his, the genius that she was. “We’re all thinking the same thing, aren’t we? Riddle certainly doesn’t care for his followers, but Bellatrix was always the most fanatic of all of them. He is going to notice her absence soon, if he hasn’t already. Even if he doesn’t think of the horcrux he gave to her to safeguard, he is likely going to want to retaliate.”

In the chair beside Hermione’s couch, Sirius suddenly cleared his throat. “Albus is going to call an emergency Order meeting. I’ll probably be summoned along with the rest of the Order here soon. When I spoke to him earlier, he was still receiving reports but he mentioned making preparations. I think he’s convinced that there might be a final battle soon.”

“In another time, the final battle is either barely a whisper in the night or it resonates so loudly that it brings Hogwarts to her knees,” Luna spoke up from her chair, her arms wrapped about her knees with her legs drawn up to her chest. “The time has passed for this to be quietly resolved, but we still have a choice before us. However, time moves swiftly like the river and soon it may be out of our hands. If we lose our purchase, Hogwarts will fall regardless if the Dark Lord returns to dust or battles on to victory.”

Salazar grit his teeth. “In other words, we cannot afford to clash upon Hogwarts’ grounds.” They would need to lure Voldemort to another battlefield. It was one he had ideas on where they could stand their ground, but he could think of only one way to lure the madman to a location. The Taboo would get his attention, but if Salazar announced that Harry Potter had returned… well, there was no way that the Dark Lord would ignore it. However, they had to get the last two horcruxes before then.

With the situation heavy upon his mind, Salazar turned to face Bill. “The Cup is in Gringotts’, within the Lestrange vault,” he repeated the revelation. “I need you to organize a meeting with the goblins as soon as possible.”

Godric moved from beside Salazar suddenly as he unfolded his arms. “Tell them we are willing to return Gryffindor’s sword to them if they will negotiate with us in good faith,” he ordered Bill before he gave Salazar a small smile. “That sword is rightfully mine, but I am willing to bet that they still covet it and retain their own notions of proper ownership.” Salazar could not help the small snort as he gave a little nod. The sword would be a good bargaining chip to get the Cup in return, though they would have to see just how effective it might be. Goblins were very proud, after all.

With the orders in place, Bill climbed to his feet. “Gringotts is open all through the night to accommodate nocturnal clients, so I’ll go now,” he said grimly. “Once I have an answer, I’ll come find you right away. Catch me up on anything else I miss.” He gave a quick nod to them before he hurried for the door.

Salazar let him go with a soft word of thanks before he turned to Draco with a solemn set to his face. “Now, what I am about to ask of you I only do so because I trust you,” he said lowly. “It is with a heavy heart that I ask it and I only want you to go through with it if you understand the risks.” He could see Fred and George already bristling, but luckily they held back their thoughts.

“You want me to go through with the plan to kill Nagini,” Draco said softly, though his expression was set with determination. “I was the one to approach you with the suggestion in the first place, Herrick. You do not have to tell me the risks that are involved. I know them very well.”

With a frown, Salazar gave a little nod. “You will be exposed as a spy.”

Draco gave a humourless laugh as he wrapped his hand around his left arm, a motion he seemed to do without thought. “It will be a great relief to not have to pretend in front of that man anymore,” he said and gave a little shake of his head. “If I lose my life, it will be a good cause. It will give my life worth.”

“Your life is already worthy!” Fred hissed softly.

After a quick glance at the man, Draco placed a hand against his knee. “Perhaps. But I still have a lot to make up for,” he said in a soothing tone.

Salazar held up a hand then to stop anymore indignant outbursts. “As much as you seem to want to become a martyr, let us perhaps plan a way to prevent such a thing,” he said flatly. “You continue to wear the amulet I gave you, yes? Once you have killed Nagini, you will need to escape. If you are in danger, it will immediately bring you to my side. So, we will be prepared for your return.” When Draco gave a grim nod, Salazar watched him quietly for a long moment. “Killing Nagini should kill the horcrux. However, to be absolutely certain, you will need to sever her head from her body. Are you going to be able to do this?” He said the last part gently.

There was a weary look in Draco’s eyes that had never been there before from what Salazar remembered of him as a boy. Instead of the spoiled boy he had once known, Draco had the look of a man who had seen horrors and had done things that haunted his dreams. Salazar knew the look intimately. “I have to do it,” Draco replied tiredly, though his tone was firm. “I will do it.”

“I entrust it to you,” Salazar said with a small bow. “However, I do ask that you wait until after we have had the chance to retrieve the Cup. I need to consult with the Headmaster, but I may need you to leave a message with the Dark Lord. With the death of Nagini, it will be the last of the horcruxes. It will set the stage for the final battle against him, but we will need to give ourselves an advantage. We can do that by luring him to a place of our choosing.”

From her spot on her couch, Hermione sighed and fixed her blanket. Her eyes looked shadowed as she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. “I assume you had an idea? I assume that we all agree that it can’t be Hogwarts.”

Salazar gave a nod. “My estate in Katanes,” he said before he paused. “Ah, that is to say Caithness. You’ve been there, Hermione.” She nodded thoughtfully. “In the estate itself we can set up a camp to bring wounded fighters while the archway is easily guarded. The land before the estate is untouched and wide open, perfect for a battlefield. It is not a flatland as there are boulders and water flowing through it, but that should only help provide us cover and the use of our environment. If we are there first, then we can lay traps.”

Before they could continue with the conversation, there was a knock on the door. When it opened, Lupin popped his head inside. He looked around in surprise at how many of them were gathered together in the room, but then he spotted Sirius. “Ah, Albus asked me to fetch you, Sirius. And since so many of you are here as well, I’ll let you know that the Headmaster has summoned us for a meeting.”

Salazar gave a nod and turned his attention to Sirius. “Can you bring my suggestion to the Headmaster?” He requested. “I am more than happy to go over it in more detail with him, but suggest my estate in Caithness to him. It will give him time to think over the idea.”

“I don’t see why he can’t just let you into the Order,” Sirius grumbled as he got to his feet. “Yeah, I’ll pass on the message. You try to get some sleep.”

The answer to that question was easy, but Salazar decided it best not to reply. As Harry, he remembered that Dumbledore was not always very forthcoming. He liked to talk in riddles or make speeches with hidden meanings. There were still things that the headmaster still likely attempted to hide from him. It was easier to keep him in the dark when he was not in the Order himself, though the man must know that his friends passed on much of the information relayed during the meetings. As thinly veiled as it was, it was an attempt to restrict him as the Headmaster was on damage control. Too bad that Salazar was still going to do what he wanted.

As most of those who had been gathered started to filter out, Fenrir moved from his spot next to the window and approached Salazar. “Fen,” Salazar greeted softly as he turned his attention to the older man. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Fenrir inclined his head as he glanced at his two sons. “I wanted to request that you would send me ahead to Caithness,” he stated after a moment. “We might as well take every moment that we have available to us. I can start preparing for the battle that is ahead of us.”

“I have not even spoken to Dumbledore about it yet,” Salazar said with a raised eyebrow, somewhat amused. “Do you have that much trust in me that I will convince him that my plan is best?”

“Yes,” Fenrir said simply.

Salazar gave a blink before he snorted softly. “Well, you are certainly not wrong. For the most part, at least. I do plan to make sure that he goes along with my plan for the battlefield. We all heard Luna,” he said the last part as he looked over to the blonde witch who was still curled up in her chair. “We cannot afford to fight a battle in the shadow of this castle.” He turned back to Fenrir then. “Very well. Once I have had the chance to talk with Bill when he returns, you and I shall go down to the camp so that we may speak with Hilde. I want you to take a crew with you to set up a camp at the estate.”

At the order, Fenrir smirked and gave a little salute. “Of course. I will see you down at the camp later then,” he said before he turned and headed for the door. Skoll and Hati quickly said goodbye and then followed after their father. Salazar had no doubt that they wanted to discuss their ideas for the camp with the other wolf as they had both been there once before, so had an idea of the layout of the land.

With them gone, it left him alone with Godric and Luna as even Einar had disappeared at some point. Suddenly quiet but for the crackling of the fire in the hearth, Salazar made his way over to the couch next to Luna’s chair and took a seat. “You do not appear to be well,” Salazar said softly as he followed her gaze. She seemed to stare into the fire, but at the same time she appeared to look beyond it. He turned back to her and reached over to place his own calloused hand over her pale one. “Luna?”

“I have visions that haunt me,” she said quietly. “In both my dreams and my waking moments, there is an ever present fog of what-ifs. We stand before a crossroads that branches into innumerable possibilities. The paths we have tread until now have led us to this point, but there are still so many uncertainties. I can see what might be and not all of them are favourable.” Luna gave a smile, but it stretched across her face as a pale imitation. “The worst of the ones that plague my dreams, dear Herrick, are the ones where I watch you fall. It becomes difficult to separate visions from nightmares.”

Salazar reached out as he tried not to frown. With a gentle hand, he guided Luna’s head so that her eyes met his. “You forget, Luna Lovegood, that it is extraordinarily hard to kill me. I have had many attempts on my life, many of them supposedly unescapable, yet here I sit. Well and unharmed. I worry too that I may not survive this war, but you will have my promise that I will try my damnedest to come out the victor on the other side.” He squeezed her hand gently and then sat back. “Let us put such talk behind us. Instead, I have wanted to properly introduce you to my brother. You seemed like you had looked forward to his arrival, but I have not seen you since.” He gave a little smirk and then turned some in his seat to look over to where Godric stood.

“Salazar has mentioned you, fair lady,” Godric said as he was invited into the conversation. “Though he never mentioned how beautiful you are.” He had donned a charming smile as he stepped up to Luna’s chair and then got down onto one knee. “The skáld’s could spin enduring songs of your golden hair and the moon touched pools of your eyes.”

A rosy blush lit Luna’s pale cheeks, but there was a pleased smile on her lips as she reached out to place a hand against Godric’s bearded cheek. “Loki speaks with a silver tongue, but you have a honeyed one, dear Thor.”

Though he felt like he had witnessed something private between the two of them, Salazar could not help his groan. “Of course. I understand now,” he muttered. He might feel exasperated, but he was also pleased by the sparkle of mischief that had lit in Luna’s eyes once more. At Godric’s confusion though, Salazar gave a sigh. “I told you that she has called me Loki. When I first met her, I called her Lady Sif. Then, before you arrived, she told me that her husband was soon to appear. If we are to follow in the same pattern, you could only be Thor because of your red hair.”

“It is not just because of his red hair that he is Thor,” Luna said softly as she ran her thumb over Godric’s freckled cheek and his short cropped beard. “Thor and Loki could often have a tumultuous relationship. But on the other side of that same coin, they could be partners in great mischief.” She smiled then and leaned forward to press a kiss against Godric’s forehead. “The great thunderer looks fondly down upon you, Godric Gryffindor. Just as he, you are a mighty warrior.”

Salazar snorted softly as he leaned back in his seat. “She means to say that you are just as bull headed as mighty Thor, apt to face any problems with the strength of your hand rather than any careful plot,” he said slyly. He held great reverence for Thor, but he could not pass up the opportunity to tease Godric. Though, it was true that Thor was more than just a great warrior and so Godric was more than just a great warrior as well.

At his words, and unaware of Salazar's thoughts, Godric rolled his eyes. “And you are definitely Loki, not one to jump straight into danger but has several plans laid out in case the first one fails. I would say we work well together then, do we not?”

In response, Salazar’s sly smile slipped away into true mirth as he laughed. “I suppose you are not wrong,” he agreed. He sobered then and looked down at the ripped state of his tunic. There was blood on it, much of it his own. “I will retire, if you do not mind. Bill is not likely to return anytime soon and the others are also likely to be in the Headmaster’s meeting for some time.” He needed a bath, to tend to his wounds. He might even sneak in a nap.

“Take a dreamless sleep potion,” Godric said firmly.

Salazar could not even bring himself to argue. So, he gave a nod and said a soft goodbye to Luna. She gave him a little wave, but then her starry smile was on Godric once more. Honestly, Salazar had not thought much of it when Luna had mentioned a husband. He had thought it simply was some connection that only made sense in her mind to keep the identity of Godric hidden from him. However, Godric had turned his full attention on Luna and she looked up at him with a gentle smile that Salazar had never seen before. It was certainly not love that wrapped around the two, but perhaps it could be one day. Not willing to interfere, Salazar quietly left and shut the door behind him. “Hogwarts, my dear, can you make sure that they are not disturbed? Not unless there is an emergency of course,” he asked softly.

As soon as he requested it, the door seemed to fade into the wall and the handle disappeared. Salazar chuckled and gave a little bow. “Thank you,” he said softly before he turned and headed off down the hallway. His bed called for him, his body run down and exhausted. Now that they were in this limbo of time before they could enact any of their plans, his body was quick to remind him that he had not slept for nearly twenty-four hours.

The trek down to his chambers felt like it took hours, each step heavier than the next. As he pushed open the door, he drew in a deep breath. The next thing he knew, he was in his bath and could not for the life of him remember how he had gotten there. Eolas watched him in concern from next to the tub as his tail trailed through the water. There was a vial in the serpent’s mouth, so Salazar reached out to take it from the creature. He uncapped it and gave it a sniff. “A nutrient potion?” He must have seen the need for it when he grabbed it for Eolas to hold, so he gave a little shrug and then downed it.

Salazar focused on his bath then, though he hissed as the soapy water hit the cuts that littered his chest. Most of it was from the shrapnel that resulted from explosive spells, though he had been clipped by at least one cutting curse. None of them required any sort of trip to the infirmary, but he did make sure to properly clean them. By the time he finished, the water around him was pink with the washed away blood. He drained it away and then refilled the tub to properly rinse off.

By the time he made it into his bed, he wasn’t even sure he would need the dreamless sleep potion. But the threat of nightmares ensured he knocked back a half dose of the potion. He wanted sleep, but he did not want to be knocked out for too long in case someone came to look for him. With the potion taken, Salazar was asleep nearly before he could set the vial aside.

True to the name of the potion, Salazar slept without dreams. When he woke again, a number of unknown hours later, it was to Eolas’ presence to let him know there was someone at the door for him. Still groggy from sleep, Salazar slid out of bed with a quiet hiss of thanks to his familiar and then dressed quickly. He tied his hair up in a messy bun as he went to go answer the door, not surprised to see Bill on the other side. He quickly invited the man into his office.

“Sorry, did I wake you from a nap?” Bill said as he removed his cloak and folded it over his arm. He declined a seat, but closed the door shut behind him.

Salazar stepped over to his desk and leaned against the edge of it after he waved his hand in a dismissive motion. “No, it is fine. I was asleep, but what news you carry is far more important. You spoke with the goblins?”

With a quick nod, Bill gave a grimace and ran his free hand through his redhair. “I wouldn’t call it bad news, but it’s not exactly good news either,” he admitted with a soft sigh. “They said they are willing to hear us out, but we must hand over the sword first. They won’t take no for an answer.”

“It is no surprise that they operate a bank,” Salazar muttered with a small scowl. “Very well. However, I will have to discuss this with Godric as the sword is rightfully his no matter what the goblins say. Did you arrange a specific date and time for the meeting?” If Godric was unwilling to hand over the sword, then they would have to come up with another plan. He might be able to talk his way into a negotiation without the need to hand over the weapon, but that was no guarantee.

As Salazar pondered over the newest dilemma, Bill gave a slow nod. “They insisted that we have until sundown tonight to hand over the sword, or else we will have to wait until another unknown time in the future. He said something about prior commitments, but I would not put too much trust behind such words. Just another tactic to try to get the upper hand.”

“Yes,” Salazar agreed blandly before he gave a rough sigh. “I appreciate your help in this endeavour, Bill. I know it is a lot to ask of you as you are an employee of Gringotts’ yourself, but would you be willing to come along? It will likely otherwise be just Godric and myself.”

Bill gave a little chuckle as he shifted on his feet. “You do not need to ask me twice. I’m happy to tag along, be any help that I can be.”

“Thank you,” Salazar said quietly and then massaged the bridge of his nose with his hand. “Go get some rest. I will reach out once we have come to a decision.” He needed to talk to Godric first. Then, if Godric agreed to the terms, they would need to speak with the Headmaster to retrieve the sword that was still in the man’s office. And all before sundown.

As Bill said a quick goodbye and left, Salazar groaned softly and rubbed his hand over his face. It was still late morning, but he had to get a move on. He had to get himself something to eat as well, so he might as well invite Godric to eat with him while they discussed how to deal with the goblins. With a small smirk, he made his way around his desk and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. He wrote out a quick note and then rolled it up. With his note prepared, he stepped into his bedroom to find Eolas. He sent the serpent off with the note in his mouth to deliver it to Godric as it was the fastest method to hunt the wizard down. And a bit of fun at Godric’s expense was sure to lift his mood just a little.

Salazar then returned to his desk to write another note to the Greybacks. He sent this off with a little spell so the parchment folded itself into a paper bird before it flew off. He let them know he put his faith into the twins to come up with a viable plan, that they could cooperate with Hilde on his behalf to enact their proposal. He would get in touch with them later to go over what they had come up with, but needed to focus his attention on the Cup for now. Then, as he waited for his friend, Salazar called for a house elf and requested a breakfast spread large enough for the two wizards. Godric in particular could eat as if he had been starved. With that taken care of, he seated himself in front of the hearth and opened a book upon his lap to read while he waited.

It was not a long wait before his door slammed open with some force. Salazar looked up calmly, though his wand was in his hand before the door even hit the wall. Godric stood on the other side, which Salazar had half suspected to be the case. He sheathed his wand once more and closed his book with a quiet snap. “Do try not to break the door, Godric,” he drawled as he set the book onto the nearby side table. “Come sit and have something to eat. Did you get any sleep after we parted ways?” He wondered how long the man had spent with Luna, but decided not to pry.

“Funny you should ask,” Godric grumbled as he closed the door with a loud click. At least he had not slammed it, Salazar decided. He raised an eyebrow at Godric, though he knew exactly what the man grumbled about. “Oh, do not give me that innocent look. I had barely gone to bed for some rest when I was roused by your familiar.”

Salazar tried not to smile as he grabbed a plate and prepared a selection of food for himself. “Yes, I sent him to you with the invitation to dine with me here,” he said lightly.

As the redheaded wizard strode over to the seats, he gave a low growl. “Yes, I am sure you did. I woke to him barely a small breadth away from me, his head all I could see. Where he then proceeded to drop your message directly onto my face.”

At that announcement, Salazar really did snort when he was unable to hold in his laughter. “And surely that is not my fault?” He said lightly as he hurriedly reined in control of his emotions again.

“You knew exactly what he would do the moment you sent him to play messenger for you,” Godric groused as he dropped heavily down into a chair and then started to gather a plate for himself.

Salazar only smiled as he leaned back in his seat once more. After their rather awkward first meeting, Godric and Eolas had never got along well. Godric was often unnerved by his inability to understand the intelligent magical creature, while Eolas would take full advantage of that fact. Eolas could be quite the prankster himself when it came to Godric, and entirely capable of holding onto a grudge.

There was a heavy sigh from the other man before Godric leaned back in his seat with his food. “But rude awakenings aside, I know you invited me here for more than just a late breakfast.”

All playful thoughts banished, Salazar quickly sobered up. “You know me well,” he said softly. “Bill came to visit me to give me the goblins’ answer. They are willing to negotiate, but we must turn over your sword first beforehand.”

“Figures the greedy bastards would make such a stipulation. I always regretted the deal I made with Ragnuk to create the sword. Should have known he would covet such a fine blade,” Godric groaned as he picked up a sausage patty from his plate. “As much as that sword has great value to me and it pains me to hand it over to the goblins, I am willing to exchange it for the horcrux.”

Salazar was quiet a long moment before he gave a small smile. “Well, you can be glad that at least it was not cursed like Tyrfing was by the dwarves that forged it,” he said before he took a bite out of his toast. There was silence from Godric, long enough that Salazar looked over at the man in confusion. There was contemplation on his friend’s face that often was a prelude to mischief of some sort. “Godric?”

Snapped from his thoughts, Godric’s eyes shot up. “What if we curse it ourselves? They might break the curse eventually, but it seems like a fair payment in exchange for their schemes.”

As long as they carefully hid the curse, it might work. And it amused him that no one in this age would expect such pettiness from Godric. “What exactly did you have in mind? And, I meant to ask you why you even left the blade behind in the first place.”

“I was not sure I would return,” Godric responded quietly. “So, I left it in the care of the Hat to give to my son one day. Though, you said the Hat gave it to you when you were in your Second Year as Harry Potter. It makes me wonder if he ever passed it on to the boy.” The redhead shook his head then and scooped up some of his eggs. “Not that it matters now. As for my plan, what about the Thief’s Penance?”

Salazar hummed softly as he weighed the option. “Any ill-gotten wealth is lost through great misfortune, correct?” At Godric’s nod, Salazar smirked a little. “Yes, I quite like it. Poetic almost since they like to claim that you stole that blade from them, yet their demands now are as good as theft or extortion to get their hands on the weapon. You want to use a sigil? If we carve it into the gem on the pommel, they would need to destroy it to lift the curse.” They were also less likely to notice the curse right away. The curse itself was an understated one so, by the time they realized their ill fortune was the result of a curse, it would be too late.

When Godric gave another little nod and said nothing, Salazar paused and examined his friend closely. “I know it was important to you,” he said softly then as he set down his fork. “If it would make you feel any better, I will get you a new sword. A better one.”

“No goblins this time,” Godric said after a long moment.

Salazar gave a startled laugh in response as Godric finally smiled. “No goblins,” Salazar agreed. Perhaps he would attempt to contact the dwarves. They lived primarily in the Northern Communities from what he had seen of the English wizarding community, but he looked forward to such a visit. Though his memories of his time as Harry Potter continued to return to him, Fyrkat in the modern times gave him a feeling of home. Hogwarts held a big piece of his heart, his first true home in both ages, but there was a mess of conflicting emotions from both his memories of Harry Potter and his memories of Salazar Slytherin. Fyrkat was simpler, more familiar.

With a little mental shake of his head to clear his thoughts of their wanderings, Salazar returned to his meal. “Once we finish our food, we should seek out the Headmaster to retrieve the sword from his office.”

After he had swallowed a bite, Godric leaned forward a little and picked up another slice of toast. “You make it sound so simple. I have not seen the Headmaster since a brief moment after my arrival. Will he really hand over the sword so easily?”

“Regardless of what he may want, you are still the rightful owner,” Salazar replied as he set his plate aside. “He will hand it over whether he wants to or not, but I do not expect the conversation to go easily. Of those now aware of my identities, he is one of the many who do not know what to think of me any longer. However, I will say that he hides it better than most.” There were a number of Order members he had to now avoid so that their strange behaviour did not make those who were still unaware suspicious of him.

Godric smirked a little bit as he chewed on a bite of the toast he had grabbed. Once he had swallowed once more, he set his own plate aside. “Well, it should be interesting to see how he responds to me, then,” he said as he stood up and then shoved the rest of his toast into his mouth. Though he had fully recovered physically, Godric still kept out of the public view for the most part. Most of his meals were taken with Salazar in his office, or he would go down to the kitchens to dine alone. When he would walk the corridors of the castle, he would keep to the quieter ones. Salazar did not blame him. For how well Godric remained composed at times like this, he knew that the redhead still needed time to adjust to the new era. He did not have the benefit of returning memories after all.

Since they had both finished their meals, Salazar called for a house elf to request the little creature to clear away the dirty dishes. The spread was cleared away with a snap and then the house elf was gone. Salazar had already turned to Godric and motioned with his hand. “Shall we?”

The trek up to the Headmaster’s office was a long one, but the two men spent it in idle chatter. When they reached the gargoyle that guarded the entrance, Salazar did not even bother to run through a list of sweets as there was no one around. Instead, he simply requested that Hogwarts open the door for them. She was happy to comply, so the gargoyle leapt out of the way so the two wizards could ascend the stairs. When they reached the top, they knocked once and then Salazar opened the door.

The headmaster was not currently in his office, but Godric did not seem to notice. Instead, he had focused on the singular creature that did occupy the office. “Fawkes?”

Salazar would readily admit that he had forgotten about Fawkes. He had told Godric about his old familiar, of course, but Fawkes had still been recovering from his Rebirth so this was the first time that the two had been reunited since Godric’s arrival. Salazar had not known what stage of Fawkes’ Rebirth he had been in, but it was reasonable in hindsight to believe that Fawkes had grown fully to adulthood once more. However, while Godric had been there for only a little over a week now, Fawkes had not once visited. He had to have known that Godric had returned though, so Salazar wondered what had kept the immortal creature away.

As Salazar watched the two wordlessly, Fawkes spread his wings and took to the air. He glided elegantly over to the redheaded wizard and then settled lightly on his shoulder. There were no verbal words between the mystical bird and his friend, but Fawkes pressed his head against Godric’s cheek. Phoenix tears were precious, but Salazar was almost startled to see one glisten in Fawkes’ eye. It dropped down against Godric’s jaw and disappeared into his beard. The entire scene was achingly intimate, enough that Salazar turned away to give them their privacy. Their bond had been broken once before, but Fawkes must have held onto a small hope that Godric would return one day.

While the wizard and the phoenix reconnected, Salazar turned his attention to the exploration of Dumbledore’s office. He remained respectful and did not poke too deeply into anything, but he absently examined the silver instruments that whirred and spun upon their shelves. There were a great many books as well, some of which Salazar itched to get his hands on because they were not available in the school’s library. He wondered about the age of some of them, but he kept his hands to himself.

But, even as he absently explored the shelves, he was aware of the portraits scattered about the upper walls of the high vaulted office. Most of them pretended to sleep as his eyes slid over them, but he could feel their gazes on the back of his neck when he turned away from them. There were some twenty-odd portraits in the office, all of which were previous Headmasters and Headmistresses of the school. He did not recognize any of them, of course. As portraits associated closely with the school, Salazar wondered if any of the oldest portraits recognized him from stories passed down before they had spun off into legends. It was not the first time he had thought such a thing, though none of them had ever come forth with suspicions they might have had before then.

The door opened in the next moment then and Salazar spied a portrait slide back into his portrait frame. Salazar could only assume that the portrait had warned Dumbledore about the intruders in his office. He turned to greet the man, though was nearly lost for words at the vibrant violet robes the old man wore. It was embroidered with golden constellations that appeared to actually twinkle as if they were real stars set in the night sky. It was a rather stark contrast to the man’s somber expression.

“Mr. Potter. Mr. Gryffindor. To what do I owe this pleasure?” The headmaster asked as he stepped past them and over to sit at his desk. Salazar saw how the man’s eyes lingered a touch too long on Fawkes, who had remained on Godric’s shoulder. “After the events of last night, I did not expect to see you so soon. I have only just finished a number of meetings myself.”

Salazar approached the large wooden desk as well and then seated himself in one of the chairs. Godric joined him and sat himself in the other, while Fawkes hopped down to perch on Godric’s knee. The creature gave a little trill that soothed the edges of Salazar’s nerves, rather than set a deep ache in his chest like it usually did since he had returned to this time. He wondered if Godric’s presence had impacted him that greatly, but pushed the thoughts away. “Please, just call me Herrick, Headmaster.”

The old man sat down in his seat and then steepled his hands as he leaned back in his chair. “And I do believe that I told you that you could call me Albus, my boy.” There was a gentle smile on the wizard’s lips that did not quite reach his eyes.

“My apologies, Albus. After everything, I wanted to be respectful,” Salazar said evenly.

“I do appreciate the thought,” Dumbledore responded before he looked between the two men across from him once more. “Now, what can I do for you?” The Headmaster did seem able to hide his thoughts very well, something Salazar appreciated and hated in equal measure.

Salazar took a moment to gather his thoughts and then met Dumbledore’s eyes. He kept his emotions carefully contained and made sure only his purest intentions floated along the surface of his thoughts. He had already made the Headmaster aware that he could sense the use Legilimency against him, but he wanted to be prepared in case the old wizard could not help a brief skim of the surface. Once he had prepared himself, Salazar took a measured breath. “I am unaware of the full extent of what Sirius has told you, but I will assume that he told you that we captured Bellatrix Lestrange.”

The headmaster was quiet for only a moment before he inclined his head in agreement. “He told me, yes. However, you returned to Hogwarts empty handed. Before I met with my Order, you had a meeting of your own.” The man’s tone gave almost nothing away, though Salazar thought he could sense a hint of something that might be disappointment. It was unapproving disappointment.

“We have the location of another horcrux,” Salazar said bluntly as he leaned backwards in his chair, his hand curled loosely about the ends of the armrests. “It is within a vault in Gringotts’ Bank. I do not want to celebrate our victory until we have managed to get our hands on it, but we have a plan on how to retrieve it. However, to do so, we are going to need to hand Godric’s sword over to the goblins.” Sometimes it was better to rip the bandage off quickly, to get it over and done. Dumbledore certainly appeared speechless for a few beats to Salazar’s blunt admission.

Finally, Dumbledore cleared his throat and leaned forward to place his elbows on his desk. “I understand that the sword was originally the possession of Mr. Gryffindor, but it has since become a relic of the school. To place it in the hands of the goblins seems like it would be a great injustice to the history contained within the weapon.”

Though Salazar opened his mouth in rebuttal, it was Godric who beat him to it. “You speak of relics, but is it not little more than a trophy, Headmaster Dumbledore? If you wanted to preach about its history, you would have placed it upon display. Instead, it sits within your office and out of sight. Regardless, that sword is mine. I gave it to the Hat for safekeeping in the chance that I would return one day. I have returned, so it is rightfully mine to do as I please. Though I am also reluctant to hand it over to the goblins that unjustly covet it, I will do so if it means an end to this ridiculous war. Or do you wish to see it drag on even longer than it already has?”

History remembered Godric as some golden icon, but Salazar knew the truth. Wizards so often seemed to forget that the Gryffindor symbol was a lion. Lions may not have been known to the majority of the mundane population of England until sometime in the 1200s CE, but information spread faster amongst the magical population. Godric and he had seen a traveling merchant from the Holy Roman Empire in one of the magical settlements that had taken a lion for a familiar. Godric had been immediately taken by the massive feline, had made it a symbol for his House once the school had been established. There was something regal about the creatures, but they were also fierce with sharp claws and strong jaws. It perfectly embodied Godric as far as Salazar was concerned, so it was a pleasure to watch the Headmaster’s jaw tighten with no reply.

“I will take the sword,” Godric pressed on. Fawkes leapt from Godric’s knee and returned to his ornate perch off to the side of the office so Godric could stand to his feet. The redhead conjured up a sheath for the weapon as he transfigured a small object of some sort from the pouch on his belt. Dumbledore could not stop the wizard as he made his way over to the case that Salazar had told him about, then opened it to retrieve the weapon. He examined it wistfully for a drawn out moment, but then carefully sheathed it. “That was all we needed, Headmaster Dumbledore. Salazar and I will be taking a trip to the bank, but we will be sure to tell you of our progress once we return.”

Salazar had to hold back his laughter, but was lucky that Godric immediately started for the door. He followed quickly after his friend after a sharp goodbye to the headmaster, fortunate that the old man did not try to stop them. He held in his mirth until they had descended the staircase and passed the guardian gargoyle. Only once they had slipped into a quiet corridor hidden behind a tapestry did Salazar finally brace one arm against the stone wall and break down into laughter. He did not dare look at Godric’s smug grin.

When he finally gained control over himself again, Salazar straightened some and leaned back against the wall instead. He breathed in slowly and then carefully let it out, though he snorted again when he spotted the sword still in Godric’s hand. “I do not think that man is used to being shut down like that,” he said in amusement and then finally pushed away from the wall completely. “We should take the sword down to my office where I have my tools. We can tamper with the sword, then go find Bill.” They had until the end of the day, but it would be better to get it over with as soon as possible. One never knew with goblins and how they might twist a deal after all.

((End Chapter))

Chapter Text

Last Time:

When he finally gained control over himself again, Salazar straightened some and leaned back against the wall instead. He breathed in slowly and then carefully let it out, though he snorted again when he spotted the sword still in Godric’s hand. “I do not think that man is used to being shut down like that,” he said in amusement and then finally pushed away from the wall completely. “We should take the sword down to my office where I have my tools. We can tamper with the sword, then go find Bill.” They had until the end of the day, but it would be better to get it over with as soon as possible. One never knew with goblins and how they might twist a deal after all.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Carefully, Godric laid his sword down on the table that Salazar had conjured. He gently brushed his fingers over the hilt while Salazar went over to one of the cabinets. “I remember when I first commissioned the sword,” the redhead said quietly. “Æthelred gave me the idea when we first established the Knights. Even got me into contact with the goblins. But, perhaps, I dreamed too large.”

“I did try to tell you that it was rather gaudy,” Salazar responded as he returned to the table with a simple box in his hands. He set it down and then retrieved a book from one of the shelves. “But, I will admit that it is a fine blade. Especially with its mithril blade.” Salazar spared Godric a faint smile as he flipped open the book and carefully thumbed through its pages. He gave a soft hum then and returned the book to the shelf before he pulled down another one. He spent a moment to search through its pages, though he did not have to flip far to find what he had needed to locate. As he approached the table once more, Salazar skimmed through the page.

Once he reached Godric’s side, Salazar flipped the book around and held it out to his friend. “The Thief’s Penance,” he announced softly. Once Godric had accepted the book, Salazar unlatched the box and opened it. “Ruby is incredibly hard to etch, but I luckily have a number of enchanted tools that will work just fine. The difficult task would be to hide the sigil from the goblins.”

Godric looked up from the book and then set it down on the table so it remained open. “The ruby can be removed,” he admitted. “It was a failsafe in case the ruby was damaged from an overload of magic. If we remove the ruby, we can etch the sigil on the underside of it and then return it. I doubt the goblins will be so thorough in their inspection of the sword, though it would already be too late.”

At Godric’s admission, Salazar looked up at him with a deadpan stare that stretched for a long few beats until the redhead finally shifted uncomfortably. Salazar rolled his eyes and then straightened. “Of course. Would you remove it then?”

“You only needed ask,” Godric shot back sweetly as he picked his sword up. “There’s a trick to it anyways, and I doubt that the goblins even remember even with their long memories.” The pommel was shaped like a disk that surrounded the large ruby, the entire thing perhaps only a finger width’s thick. The mithril was delicately shaped to resemble knotwork, though Salazar had never really examined it closely. Now, Godric used his nails to twist some small segment on the side and then pulled free what appeared to be a pin. The wizard watched then as Godric adjusted his grip and pressed down on what was likely some hidden mechanism. As he did so, the redhead pressed the pin against the top of the pommel and then slid the pin into a miniscule hole that had opened up. As the pin was pushed into place, there was a click. Godric turned the sword over and the ruby fell into his hand, which he then offered to Salazar.

With the gemstone in hand, Salazar settled himself on a conjured stool and pulled his tools closer to him. Over the next several minutes, Salazar carefully engraved the needed sigil into the back of the ruby. Godric left him to it as he carefully set the sword back down on the table. It was delicate work that Salazar had taken on, so Godric did not want to distract him. However, he needed to do something with his hands so he retreated over to one of the couches and pulled out a whetstone from one of the pouches at his side. He unsheathed the sword that had been hidden at his side and then took a seat. This sword was not as beautiful as the one that had been laid upon the table, but it had yet to fail him.

The sound of the whetstone against the blade was a comforting sound, steady and familiar. It would not distract Salazar at all and Godric could lose himself in the repetitive motions. So, like that, time passed quickly. Once he finally wiped down the sharpened blade and then resheathed the sword, Godric noticed that Salazar had settled back on his stool. Godric slipped the cloth and whetstone back into his pouch and then climbed to his feet. He resettled his sword as he made his way over to his friend’s side. “Finished?”

“Nearly,” was Salazar’s answer as he picked up the ruby. “The sigil has to be empowered.” He examined his work and then turned his gaze up at Godric. “I would recommend that you activate the sigil since your magic already lingers within the weapon. Once it is empowered, you will be immune to the curse’s power as you are the caster. To ensure no one besides our intended targets becomes accidentally cursed, it would be best if only you handle the sword.”

Godric gave a nod as he reached out to carefully pluck the ruby from Salazar’s palm. “I understand,” he responded quietly.

With Godric in possession of the ruby, Salazar stood up from the stool. “Last chance to back out of the plan,” Salazar said as he started to pack his tools away.

“From what I know of goblins,” Godric responded after a moment before he paused. After a breath, he continued. “From what I have come to understand of goblins, though wizards themselves are not innocents either, this little prank of ours is rather justified. I just hope we do not start another war.”

Salazar paused and turned his full attention to his friend. “If they do realize it is a curse, they are likely to be angry with the two of us. They might be petty enough to take their anger out on the entirety of the magical world, but there seems to be a magical pact set in place that is meant to prevent such things. Regardless, if they wanted to pitch a fit for the curse, they would need to explain exactly what the curse entailed. That is not something I believe they would want to have exposed.”

“True enough,” Godric agreed after a moment before he drew a breath and wrapped his fingers around the gemstone in his hand. Salazar watched as the sigil flared a moment later as Godric fed a portion of his magic into it. “Hand to hand, they have taken what was never theirs to own,” the redhead breathed out. “For those who take of which they did not earn, so now they are marked to pay most dearly in return. Hands that are binded, reciprocity wills that which they have stolen must now be rebounded.”

There was a flash of magic before the glow faded until the sigil burned with a barely noticeable light. Godric solemnly turned it over and inserted it into the pommel once more. Once the gemstone was secure again, the redhead breathed out a sigh and set it back down upon the table. Salazar said nothing to him as he finished putting away his tools, then returned the box to its shelf. With it safely tucked away, he also cleared away the book and then finally turned to Godric. “We should find Bill.”

Godric’s eyes did not pull away from the weapon upon the table. “Send a house elf to request that he meet us down by the gates,” he said as he wordlessly summoned a cloak.

It was a good idea, but Salazar did not move right away. Instead, he reached out and placed his hand upon his friend’s shoulder. “Godric,” he called the man’s name evenly.

“This is my own penance,” Godric responded to the unasked question. “I must right the wrongs that I have done.” He gave a humorless chuckle then as he picked up the sword from the table. “We are the only ones throughout the world’s long life who have had the unique experience of being able to see the far reaching consequences of our actions. Sometimes I feel like my mind is still not my own, that madness still creeps unseen at the very edges of what sanity I have regained.”

Salazar removed his hand from Godric’s shoulder and fetched his own cloak from a peg beside the door. “It was not long ago that I would not have forgiven you, even knowing that Cayden had had a hand in the events of that day,” he said as he settled the garment around his shoulders. “Perhaps we are all a little mad, Godric. There is still much healing to be done, but we can do it side by side with the new friends we have gained along the way. And your new golden haired lass.” Salazar pushed open the door and glanced over his shoulder to see Godric’s face flame. His laughter followed him out the door as Godric hurried after him, unable to do more than sputter.

As they made their way through the corridors, Salazar gave in to Godric’s suggestion and summoned a house elf to request the creature ask Bill to meet them down by the school gates. Once the elf popped away, Salazar allowed Godric to pull him into casual conversation about whatever came to the man’s mind. As they approached the gates, however, Godric suddenly fell silent when he spotted a figure in the middle of the cleared pathway.

“Luna,” Godric breathed out and hurried his steps just a touch. Salazar hid a smirk behind his friend’s back, though he too was curious why Luna waited for them. She was dressed in her long pale blue cloak lined with white fur, the hood up to cover her golden hair. She gave them a gentle smile as they approached, though her eyes lingered a moment on the sword that Godric clutched in his hand. Her gaze grew distant before they rose to meet Salazar’s, her smile curling to match the smugness of a house cat.

The smile softened as her eye’s turned to meet Godric’s as he quickly tied the sword to his belt to free his hands. “The road branches before us with many destinations that lie at their ends, some which come to ruin. But there are others that do not. I have faith that you both will choose the correct path.” She stepped up to Godric then and reached up to cup his cheeks with her hands. “When you have returned, come find me, my dear Gryffindor.” She leaned up to kiss Godric’s cheek, his face red with more than just the icy wind. When Salazar snorted, Luna looked over to him and gave him a wink.

“I just wanted to see you off,” she declared loftily, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. Salazar chuckled and gave a nod before he stepped past her. “Dear Herrick,” she called to him before he could get too far. “For all their faults and their greed, goblins are bound to silence with anything that concerns their business. They take the bonds with their clients very seriously and there is more than one way to enter a vault. Especially one that you own.”

Salazar paused in his steps and turned to look over his shoulder. He had not even thought about that. He, as Harry Potter, owned at least one vault within Gringotts. He had no real need for gold at the moment, though perhaps he could see what else was in his vault since they would be there anyways. “Thank you, Luna,” he said before he continued on towards the gates once more. Godric stayed behind to speak quietly with Luna, absolutely taken by her. It was no surprise to Salazar as he had already known his friend to make strong bonds quickly. He rather looked forward to how their relationship might develop.

“Where are you going?” A rough voice suddenly asked Salazar.

Somewhat surprised, Salazar turned his head to see that it was Ronald Weasley of all people who was on shift to guard the gates. The other was a rather timid young man that Salazar was startled to realize that he recognized. “Neville,” he said before his brain could catch up with his mouth. He had seen glimpses of the young man in various places about the castle, but had never really interacted with him before now. Salazar had only just recognized him for Harry Potter’s dorm mate. He had the same timid hunch to his shoulders, but he had certainly outgrown the baby fat that Salazar remembered. Perhaps he should introduce him to some of the Northerners, see if they could teach him some confidence.

“Ah, yes? You’re Professor Evans, right?” Neville said slowly in confusion, seemingly surprised that Salazar knew his name.

Salazar ignored Ron’s sputterings as he held a hand out to Neville. “Just Herrick, if you will. Forgive me for not properly introducing myself before now.”

Still a little wide eyed, Neville managed a small smile. “I imagine there are a lot of people you haven’t greeted. Little hard with how many people are in the castle right now, yeah?” He hesitated, but then reached out to shake Salazar’s hand. “Herrick, then. It’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Salazar responded as he finally glanced over to Ron and nearly rolled his eyes at how red the wizard’s face had become. It was a tragic thing that his old boyhood friend had not had the opportunity to overcome his adolescent problems. Salazar tried not to feel guilty and dwell on what sort of man Ron might have become if Salazar had remained Harry Potter. Would anything have changed anyhow?

Godric suddenly stepped up beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. “Who are they, Herrick?”

With a quick glance at his friend out of the corner of his eye, Salazar gave a small smirk. Ron had red hair just as Godric did, though it came across as more of an orange. Godric’s was a deeper shade, rich in colour. It amused him to think that two members of Godric’s own House stood across from its founder and they were none the wiser. “Ric, let me introduce you to Neville Longbottom.” The young man gave a flustered little wave. “The other is Ronald Weasley, youngest brother.”

“A pleasure, Mister Longbottom,” Godric said first with a little nod. When he turned his eyes on Ron then, he gave a snort. “Yet another Weasley, huh? Fred and George mentioned that they even have a sister, though they say she’s currently off touring in Europe as a quidditch player. I do not blame her.”

Ron gave Godric a little glare and crossed his arms over his chest as well, though the action came across as petulant. “Mum insisted on it when the opportunity came up,” he grumbled. “Wanted to keep Ginny away from the war that all the rest of us got caught up in. And you never said what you were doing here, Evans.”

Godric spared Salazar a small look, though Salazar ignored it. He knew that Godric had recognized the name, though he was just thankful that his friend could hide his thoughts when it really counted. Though Salazar knew Godric too well for either of them to be able to hide things from each other. “We are waiting for your brother Bill, not that it is any business of yours.”

“Ron,” Neville said quietly, almost chastising. He then gave Salazar an apologetic smile. “I’ve heard of some of the things you have done. You have more bravery than some Gryffindors I know, so thank you.” The smile Neville sported turned to one of self deprecation, though Salazar could hear Godric try to hide a snort. Neville did not seem to notice luckily, though Salazar still sent his friend a quick glare. “I’m not a proper member of the Order myself, but I do what I can to help,” Neville continued suddenly. “Not that there is much that I can do anyways.”

Before Salazar could respond, he heard his name called from behind them and turned his head to see Bill as he hurried up the pathway towards them. He gave the man a greeting and then stepped through the gate so they could be on their way. As he passed Neville, however, he placed his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Courage is more than just fighting battles,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you go meet some of the Northerners? They might appear to be a rough bunch, but they are welcoming.” He flashed Neville a quick smile and then continued on his way. He could hear Godric’s heavy footsteps behind him, followed by Bill’s.

Once they were far enough away, Salazar stopped and turned to his two companions. “Is there anything else we need to know before we leave, Bill?” He asked the man evenly, though he could feel the twists of anxiety deep in his belly.

Bill sighed and tugged on the end of his long ponytail. “Not that I can really think of. You both probably already know what goblins are like, right? So I don’t have to tell you to be on your guard around them.” He frowned a bit then. “We’ll have to go through Diagon Alley. I would have liked to bring you straight into the employee atrium, but my request was denied. I would recommend keeping your hood up as we make our way through the Alley, just so we won’t be bothered.”

“Petty creatures,” Salazar muttered and gave a nod of his head. He grasped his hood then and pulled it over his head so that his face was obscured in shadows. Godric did the same, though Bill hesitated before he asked if they knew where to apparate. Salazas nodded at the question. “We both are aware,” he responded. “See you there.” He wrapped his magic around him, his destination clear in his mind. With a near silent pop, he disappeared.

When he arrived, both Godric and Bill were not far behind. “If you would lead the way, Bill,” Salazar said lowly as he made a small motion with his hand. The cursebreaker gave a silent nod and then confidently stepped out into the street, Salazar and Godric close behind. As they walked, Salazar frowned as he looked around the street. His jumbled memories of Diagon Alley were of a lively place, filled with little explosions and bursts of harmless spell light. There had been laughter and boisterous conversations. But that all had seemingly disappeared. Instead, the bright and glittering window displays of most shops were hidden behind large Ministry of Magic decrees or were boarded over. Some shops seemed to have been closed entirely, though there were a number of shabby stalls that had sprung up in places where Salazar had never seen them before. It appeared as if Knockturn Alley had spilled forth into Diagon Alley.

The street was quiet as well, with very few that roamed the cobbled Alley. Those that were there kept their heads down and their shoulders hunched in on themselves. The only bright spots of colour were from the wizards that were stationed along the streets in vibrant scarlet robes. Aurors. Salazar did not trust them, but could only hope that they would be ignored.

As they turned a bend in the Alley, Salazar’s gaze was immediately drawn towards the snow white building that could only be Gringotts Bank. The white marble of the building towered over the rest of the crowded buildings of the wizarding street. And, even from a distance, the burnished bronze of the building’s doors caught the day’s light that peaked in through the rooftops. “How ostentatious,” Salazar muttered beneath his breath as they approached the gleaming steps of the bank. He heard Godric chuckle from beside him, but neither said anything else.

Two guards stood on either side of the doors, spears in their hands. As Bill pushed open the doors to the bank, Salazar could feel the heavy gaze of the goblins upon them. The guards said nothing to them, so they passed into the entrance hall where they were met by another set of doors. These ones were silver and were engraved with a message. “‘Enter, stranger, but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed,’” Salazar read out loud before he chuckled mirthlessly. “How ironic.” Bill lowered his hood and glanced back at Salazar with a curious look, but did not press. Instead, he turned back to the final doors and pushed them open to expose a grand hall that stretched farther than what the outside dimensions might have suggested. There were seats around the edges of the hall that might have seated a hundred or so goblins, but only a few of them were filled to help the handful of mages that roamed the floor.

“Follow me,” Bill said quietly as Salazar lowered his hood as well. He could see a couple of curious glances sent their way, but most kept their gazes down and minded their own business with the bank. None of them stood out to Salazar, so he turned on his heel and followed after Bill. Godric was close behind, his hood lowered once more as well. The two men followed Bill over to one of the side doors that was guarded by a pair of armoured goblins. They were ugly creatures, both gnarled and sharp featured. They held perpetually sour expressions and barely stood to his waist. Still, Salazar knew better than to underestimate them just because of their size. Goblins had not changed one bit.

After a quiet word between Bill and the guards, they were allowed through the vaulted silver door. The cursebreaker led the way down the hallway before he came to stop before another guarded door. “Will you let Head Goblin Kornak Strongstone know that I have returned?” As Bill made the request in a neutral tone, he received a sneer in return. The guards did not appear to want to cooperate, but one finally rapped on the door with a gauntleted hand before he slipped inside.

When the creature returned, he held the door open. “Lord Strongstone will see you,” he said haughtily.

As they entered the grand office, Salazar was hard pressed not to show just what he thought of the guard’s rudeness. He kept himself in check and instead followed Bill into the office. Three goblins waited for them around a table made of rich wood, already seated. Everything in the office screamed of wealth and opulence, even to the point of tastelessness.

“I see you brought the sword. Have a seat,” the raspy voice of Strongstone broke the silence of the room, his voice impatient. As Salazar removed his cloak, the hunched goblin spoke again. “Northerners? It has been a long time since we dealt with your folk.” It was dismissive in tone.

“We are not Northerners by blood,” Salazar said as he elegantly dropped down into the seat directly across from the Head Goblin. “Not that it is any of your business.” He nodded to Godric then, who stood before the table but had not taken a seat yet. Bill had sat down, so Godric was the only one still on his feet. When Salazar acknowledged him, Godric untied his sword from his side and lifted it to give it one last look. He grit his teeth before he slid the sword across the table so it came to rest before the Head Goblin. Salazar wished he could comfort his friend as he knew how much it had taken for Godric to willingly hand over the sword. Instead, he kept his eyes on the goblins across from them. “Take it, but be mindful of the blade,” Salazar said with feigned helpfulness. “The mithril has since become coated by the venom of a basilisk.”

The goblin actually paused before he picked up the sword, but otherwise seemed to ignore Salazar. The wizard could see the greed that radiated off of the creature like a near tangible thing. The goblin examined the sword, but luckily did not seem to find anything wrong with it. He then passed it off to one of the goblins at his side. It was quickly taken away, as if they feared that the sword would be taken from them. “I would thank you for returning a stolen relic but, well, I know it is little more than a bargaining chip to you. You would have never returned it otherwise, wizard. Am I wrong?”

Salazar leaned back in his chair and met the goblin’s critical gaze. “I am well aware of the differences between our views of ownership, goblin,” he replied as he mirrored the tone that Strongstone had taken with him. “However, we have brought the sword as a show of our good faith.”

The goblin tsked and threaded his spindly fingers together on the table before him. “Yes, of course. What is it that you wanted, wizard? What is so urgent that you would use the sword stolen by Gryffindor as a bargaining chip?”

“Do you know what a horcrux is?” Salazar asked the question bluntly. When the horror flashed through the goblin’s eyes, he could not help but feel pleased at the reaction. It was rather promising. “It seems like you do, good. I will not have to explain it then.” He paused a moment then as his expression turned grim. “I am aware that you take pride in your business, that you take the privacy of your clients very seriously. However, I must inform you that your halls possess such a soul shard. I have been tasked with collecting each one and that includes the one contained here.”

There was silence as the goblins processed the information, though Salazar could see the conflict in their beady eyes. “You are right that we take privacy very seriously,” Strongstone said finally, though he spoke slowly.

“I do not need to see the vault myself,” Salazar interrupted. “Perhaps check to see if I am telling the truth. If the object is there, then bring it here so we might discuss what to do with it next. Besides, you would not be breaking the trust of a client if I am already aware of the item in question and which vault it is held.”

Strongstone snarled softly as he tilted his head back to look down upon Salazar. “And which vault would it be that you speak of, wizard?”

Salazar raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the Head Goblin’s posturing. “The vault of the Lestrange family. The item is described as a cup, the vessel for one of the Dark Lord’s horcruxes. Even you must know of Bellatrix Lestrange’s fanaticism.”

The goblin did not respond right away. Finally, Strongstone tapped one long finger against the table. “You never told me your names, wizards.”

And they had not discussed what they would say. However, it was better not to lie. Not really. “I am Herrick Jameson,” he said after barely a pause while he borrowed the Northerners’ way of naming.

“And I am Godric Leofstanson,” Godric said as he instantly picked up on Salazar’s intention.

The goblins eyed the redhead with suspicion, but then seemed to accept it. Witches and wizards always did have strange naming practices anyhow, especially by goblin standards. “Fitting that you would share the same name as the thief, yet you are the one to return the sword,” Strongstone said finally and then snapped his fingers. From the corner of his eye, Salazar could see Godric’s jaw clench briefly before his expression evened out as if there had been nothing there to begin with.

When the Head Goblin snapped his fingers, it rang out in a sharp sound that had been likely amplified by the magic that was unique to the creatures. A guard appeared in the next moment through the same door that the sword had been carried out through. There was a hushed order that Salazar could not hear, so he turned his head to look over to Godric. From his position, he could see the redhead’s hands curled just out of sight beneath the table. His expression was impassive, but Salazar knew his friend well enough to see the anger confined within his body. “Peace, Godric,” he murmured, just loud enough for the other wizard to hear him. He did not dare say anything else, but it was all he needed. After a moment, Godric’s shoulders relaxed and he gave a tiny nod.

With Godric’s emotions back under control, Salazar spared Bill a glance. The cursebreaker had not had a chance to say anything and he looked terribly out of place, though he gave Salazar a reassuring smile when he noticed the wizard’s gaze on him. Once the horcrux had been procured, then it would likely require more of Bill’s input as he understood goblins better than most wizards. Though, Salazar hoped that the talks would go smoothly now.

Goblins had once been tricksters so it was quite a miracle that wizards trusted the creatures with their gold. Salazar did not have the knowledge to truly comment on the relations between goblins and wizards however, so he would reserve his judgment. Still, before they had even known for sure and had suspected a horcrux was contained within Gringotts’, Salazar had done what research he could into the bank itself. As already stated, goblins cared for the privacy of their clients first and foremost. They coveted gold, but they could not remain as bankers if their clients did not trust them to guard their wealth. So they had passed several laws to ensure this, but there were some lines that could not be crossed. The corrupted magic of horcruxes would be one such line.

So then it was with no surprise that Salazar watched as a goblin guard set a cup down in the middle of the table. The creature wore thick leather gloves with runes stitched along the seams, each of which glowed with power. A quick glance told Salazar that they were used to nullify curses, but he dismissed it to focus on the cup itself. It was one that he recognized, surprisingly enough. Though it was certainly a drinking vessel, it was not one that resembled the current goblets that were preferred by wizards. This cup was known as a mazer and it had been carved from a piece of lacquered maple wood. It looked like a wide cup, or even a shallow bowl, with a broad flat foot and a boss at the bottom of the bowl made of the same thinly hammered gold that capped the rim in a thick band. The circular boss in the bottom of the cup was decorated by a badger, the band around the rim etched with Latin letters though Salazar could not recall their message. It had been a princely gift from Rowena to Helga and now it had been corrupted by Voldemort’s touch.

“It carries more than just a horcrux. Were you aware of this, Jameson?” The Head Goblin said as the guard retreated.

Salazar lifted his eyes from the cup and absently rubbed at his scarred cheek. He thought he felt an echo of a twinge, but knew it was little more than his mind playing tricks on him. The horcrux in his curse scar was gone. “I should have considered the possibility, but I was not aware of any curses that had been placed upon the artifact,” he responded evenly to the question. “I would have alerted you if I had known, Head Goblin.”

Strongstone tsked softly as he leaned back in his raised chair. “That aside, you were correct in that a horcrux had been stored in our hallowed halls.”

“It is regrettable that such vile magics was brought in to defile your magnificent establishment,” Salazar said smoothly, his tone carefully sympathetic. “While it is not in the norm of your usual operations here, I have the means in which to destroy the horcrux. I would like to request that you hand over the item to me.”

The Head Goblin’s expression remained unimpressed. “You are correct that such a thing is far outside the realm of our carefully crafted laws here. You are not the only one who knows how to destroy a horcrux. We had no part in whatever task you have been given, that is your own problem. I would thank you for bringing the artifact to my attention, however.” An almost arrogant smile twisted the creature’s lips. “As it stands, the artifact is property of Gringotts’.”

Salazar did not really want to give away his deal with the Mistress of Helheim unless it was necessary, but he wondered if it would even faze Strongstone anyways. That said, goblins were neutral by law. They had their deals with the magical government, but they did business with wizards and intelligent creatures regardless of alignment. The only thing goblins cared for was gold. He would not put it past them to use the horcrux as a bargaining chip to strike some sort of deal with Voldemort. If the self proclaimed Dark Lord won, the goblins would want to ensure their place in the new world order. “I am afraid that I cannot accept that,” Salazar said as he leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. “I need to see to it that the horcrux is destroyed, that there is no question.”

“Ah, excuse my interruption, but Herrick I have a question.” When Salazar nodded to him, Bill continued. “Can you release the horcrux without damaging the artifact?”

After a moment, Salazar nodded again. “I can,” he agreed.

Bill turned to his employers then. “Might I put forward that you lend the artifact to Herrick? He can remove the horcrux and the artifact will be returned to you unharmed. I will not let it out of my sight, that I promise as a cursebreaker employed by Gringotts’ Bank,” he tried to offer.

“And how are we to be reassured that the artifact will, in fact, be returned? As well as being returned unharmed. What proof do you have?” Strongstone said dismissively.

Godric looked like he tried hard not to frown at the goblins. Strongstone did all of the speaking, while the other two just watched them with sneers on their gnarled faces. Whatever the Head Goblin decided, they would back him up in any way they deemed necessary. Godric’s hands were clamped tight around the arms of his chair as he fought to keep his expression neutral and not react to the arrogant creatures. “What sort of proof do you require?” The redhead said finally. “We can swear an oath, if you wish it.”

At the wizard’s question and offer, Strongstone turned his full attention to him. A distasteful frown pulled at his thin lips before he addressed Godric. “You must take us for fools. We are all aware that there are ways around an Oath, if one desires it enough.” He snorted elegantly then as Godric nearly growled beneath his breath.

As he stared at the artifact that sat so innocently in the center of the table, Salazar quickly came to the realization that their talks were not about to go anywhere very quickly. They had little time to waste as it was so, after another moment of thought, Salazar bowed his head with a sigh. The goblins were bound to hold a grudge against him, but he was tired and his patience short. “Lady of Helheim, I request your gaze upon me once more. I offer to you another gift in accordance with our bargain,” he said beneath his breath as he reached down into his core to grasp the mark that still blazed coldly within him.

As he finished his words, a heavy silence suddenly fell upon the room. The head goblin was suddenly on his feet. “What have you done?!” He said harshly before all colour seemed to leave his wrinkled face. Strongstone’s eyes had gone over his shoulder, but Salazar knew exactly what it was that he saw. He could feel Hel’s imposing presence as it descended upon the room. Godric had immediately risen from his chair and turned to face the Goddess, though he quickly dropped down onto one knee with his head bowed.

“Rise, dear Godric,” Hel said sweetly as her soundless footsteps brought her close to the table. “You are another that I look forward to the day that you sit at my table. You are dear to my Salazar, so you are dear to me.” Her eyes glanced over Bill and the three horrified goblins before they fell upon the cup. She reached out then with her delicate hand and picked up the artifact to inspect it. “One of two left, Salazar Slytherin. You have nearly completed your bargain.”

Salazar carefully rose from the table to stand as Godric returned to his seat. Bill was frozen in his own seat, his breathing laboured. Salazar did not dare turn his gaze away from the Goddess. “The last of the soul shards is contained alongside the living soul of a serpent,” he informed her. “The original piece of his soul is contained with a living body. Unlike the first shard that found its way to Helheim, it is my belief that the final piece will rejoin with the original because of the circumstances.”

Hel gave an elegant tilt of her head as a smile curled the lovely side of her face. “To complete our bargain, you must kill the man’s living body.” She paused then before she looked over to Salazar fully. “Once you have taken the life from him, summon me one last time and our contract shall be complete.” As she turned her attention back to the cup nestled in the palm of her hand, Hel ran one skeletal finger along the rim. She then made a motion and pulled the horcrux from its vessel. With the glowing sphere in her deadened hand, she placed the cup down where she had picked it up from originally. “I shall see you soon, Salazar Slytherin,” she said and then she was gone.

Suddenly, Salazar felt like he could breathe freely again. He did not dare close his eyes though as he quickly turned his attention to the goblins opposite of him. “What have you done?” Strongstone demanded again as his eyes blazed with anger.

Salazar took a measured breath and then stood up. He could feel the eyes of every single one of them on him, but he did not look away from the Head Goblin. “We were getting nowhere with our negotiation and the horcrux was right there in front of me. I have no need for the cup itself, so now it can be returned to its vault and there is no longer any need for us to continue this.” He could practically hear the goblin’s teeth grind as he clenched his jaw.

“Get out of my bank,” the goblin growled angrily. “I should have you seized, but you can count yourself lucky. Get out and I never want to see your face again.”

Salazar gave a little bow as he tried not to smirk. “It would be my pleasure. However, just one last thing. I have the right to visit my vault here.”

“You have no vault here, wizard,” Strongstone snapped back.

Now Salazar could not help the small smirk that curled his lips. “Actually, I do. I do not have my key as it has disappeared, but I know that you have ways of getting around such things. You can prove my identity, can you not?” Salazar paused a moment. “And, I would allow that you are correct on one account. Herrick Jameson does not have a vault here. However, Harry Potter does.”

Strongstone slammed his hands against the table. “Impossible!” He snarled. “The Potter boy disappeared and has not been heard of in several years!”

“True enough, but not the entire answer,” Salazar responded almost sweetly. “I stand here before you and you have no right to keep me from my vault. Use any method you would prefer to test me for deception and allow me access without any delay.” He had barely spoken the words when Kornak snapped his fingers once more. When a guard arrived, the Head Goblin spoke in the harsh language of their people. It had its roots in dwarven, a language close in relation to Old Norse. It made sense that the language would be so similar to dwarven as goblins were a distant relative to dwarves. Salazar thought he could pick out a few words, but it was spoken quickly.

It did not take long for a long scroll to be placed on the table with a single quill that was black, long, thin, and extremely sharp. “Sign your name upon the parchment,” the Head Goblin ordered with a sneer. “It will tell us if your blood is that of the Potter lineage.” He did not offer anymore explanation than that so Salazar assumed the quill, with its ominous appearance, was a blood quill. It would use his blood for ink, so the parchment itself was likely enchanted. Without fear, he picked the quill up and carefully wrote out Harry Potter’s name. The signature felt strange in that his hand seemed to both remember it and have forgotten it. What mattered was his blood, however. Without a flinch, he felt the signature carve into the back of his hand before it healed once more into a mark that would quickly disappear.

Salazar set the quill back down and straightened from his position. The signature of blood glimmered on the parchment before it shimmered and turned gold. It could only be a positive sign, so Salazar pushed the parchment over to the Head Goblin. “Now you can see that I speak the truth. A truth that shall remain within these four walls, as is my right as a client of this establishment. Now, I would request access to my vault.”

Strongstone looked like he wished to refuse Salazar’s request, but he could only grind his teeth in frustration before he finally called for another goblin. When the creature appeared, Strongstone barely spared him a glance as he kept his narrowed eyes on Salazar. “Take this man down to Vault 687,” he snapped. “He will need a key override.”

Salazar felt vaguely impressed that the Head Goblin would remember the Potter vault number, but felt it better not to comment. Instead, he turned to the other two. “Hopefully I will not be long. Wait for me out in the lobby,” he instructed as he started towards the goblin that waited impatiently beside the door.

The ride down to the vault was as exhilarating as Salazar remembered it to be, though it made him long to get on a broom again. He cast the thoughts aside as he watched the unnamed goblin unlock the vault for him. The creature stepped aside then and made a grand gesture that seemed over the top. “All yours, master wizard,” he said in a carefully polite voice.

“Thank you, master goblin,” Salazar echoed as he stepped into the vault. It was filled with gold, just as he remembered from faded memories. He did not know what he would ever do with so much wealth, but he did not want to think about it just left there to rot. So, he drew his wand and removed a pouch from his belt. The pouch had an extension charm on it, but was currently largely empty. The dimensions of the extension charm should fit the majority of the currency held within the vault, so he opened up the pouch and then twirled his wand to cast a quick charm. Immediately, the gold flew towards the pouch from the numerous stacks around the vault.

By the time that he ended the spell, every last galleon, sickle, and knut had flown towards his pouch. He had not been sure if it would all fit, but was glad that nothing had been left behind. The vault around him, a naturally formed cavern lit by magical torches, held nothing at all now. After the debacle that surrounded the horcrux, he was not sure he would ever be back to the bank. The goblins were not likely to willingly do business with him in the future, so he might as well bring his wealth with him.