In-Éirinn 2
Harry and Hermione were, as usual, up first. They gathered together in a corner and Hermione put up a silencing ward so they could speak as they divided out the things Harry might need while they were separated into a second bag that Hermione had quickly spelled.
"Are you sure about this?" Hermione asked once she'd finished her spells on the new bag. "I mean, I've got nothing against Slytherin – he's nothing like in the stories – but going to meet and trick Bellatrix with someone we've only just met?"
"I know," Harry agreed, "but we need the horcruxes, and I think this is our best chance. If there was another way, I'd take it in a heartbeat, but this is it." He sighed and shook his head, brushing his fingers over his Cloak. "If you haven't heard from us by Wednesday, assume the worst and try to find another way to get the cup. Involve the Order if you absolutely have to, but make getting the horcruxes a priority over me."
"I know," Hermione whispered, tears in her eyes. "You'll be careful, though, right?"
"Aren't I always?" Harry flashed her a smile.
Hermione reached over and smacked him. "Don't think you can fool me, Harry Potter! I know you too well."
They shared smiles before returning to sorting out their things.
"You'll try to be careful, though," Hermione said, making it more an order than a question.
"Yeah, I'll try," Harry promised. "But I won't leave Slytherin behind in a bad spot. You know that."
"I know," Hermione agreed and smiled sadly. "Just remember that he's likely able to take care of himself, okay? That sword's not just for decoration, and he did help build Hogwarts."
"And if there's anyone the Death Eaters will pause to kill, it's him," Harry agreed. "I know."
They were just finishing their sorting and closing the two bags up when Hermione asked, "How do we destroy them? I mean, we got lucky with that spell; I don't know that it would have worked if Slytherin hadn't appeared."
Harry rubbed at his forehead, frowning. "Well, Nagini should be easy, just kill her, but the others..." He sighed. "I should have asked Professor Dumbledore how he destroyed the ring."
Slytherin stirred from the bed he and Harry had shared, making the two teens look over. "We could ask Slytherin," Hermione said. "He appears to know quite a bit about them."
"Don't point that out to Ron," Harry suggested tiredly. "He'll start in on how Slytherin is clearly a Dark wizard and he's planning to kill us all and join Voldemort..."
Hermione laughed and shook her head. "He's not that bad." Harry gave her a look. "He has his moments," she allowed.
Harry's lips twitched. "Harry can't possibly be a Slytherin!" he cried in a fair approximation of Ron's voice.
"Stop that!" Hermione reached over and smacked Harry's arm, making him laugh. "Oh, you're terrible," she said, covering a smile.
Slytherin stepped past the ward, eyebrow raised at the two. "I begin to see how you've both managed in Gryffindor," he commented neutrally.
"We're a fun-loving bunch," Harry replied as Hermione reached into her purse for some bread for the oldest wizard. "Morning, Slytherin."
"Little serpent. Eaglet."
The two Gryffindors rolled their eyes and Hermione held out the food she'd found. "Here you are, sir."
"I'm not a professor, and nor have I been for..." He considered that for a moment as he settled on his knees in front of the teens. "A very long time," he settled on. "Calling me 'sir' is unnecessary. You're also welcome to use my first name, lest we start to confuse me with my House."
"Feel free to use our first names," Harry retorted. "I can give you a refresher, if you need it."
Slytherin chuckled. "Fair point. Harry, then. And...Hermione, correct?"
"Yes, si–ah. Salazar," Hermione said, flushing. "Sorry."
Slytherin shook his head, then glanced at Harry. "When did you wish to leave?"
"When you're done, I suppose," Harry decided, scratching his head. "Also, I don't suppose you know how to destroy horcruxes?"
Slytherin paused in the process of chewing and gave the two teens a disbelieving look. After a moment, he hurriedly swallowed and asked, "You don't know how to destroy them? Why are you hunting them, then?"
"There wasn't anyone else," Harry said quietly, expression torn. "Professor Dumbledore told me all he could before Snape killed him last year, and I guess he forgot to tell me how to destroy them."
Slytherin sighed. "Of course it would be something like that," he muttered before shaking his head. "Horcruxes can only be destroyed by something that can destroy the soul, as well as the receptacle. You said there is a basilisk in Hogwarts?"
"Was," Harry replied. "I killed it."
Slytherin raised an eyebrow at him. "Indeed. Well, basilisk venom would suffice. So, too, would Fiendfyre, though the ability to control that spell is rare." He shook his head. "There are a couple of potions that could do it, though they would take time to brew. The Killing Curse would work, even on inanimate containers. You said one is his snake?" The teens nodded, watching wide-eyed. "Anything that kills the snake should also get rid of the soul piece, then."
"Basilisk venom," Hermione said, turning to Harry. "If we can get into the Chamber, Ron and I can destroy the diadem as soon as we find it."
"But neither of you speak Parseltongue," Harry replied, grimacing. "I doubt I do, any more, with my scar gone."
"You may be able to create an alternate entrance from the – what did you call it? Room of Requirement," Slytherin offered. "Assuming the magic was set right, you should be able to use that room to get anywhere, including out of the school."
"An alternate secret passage?" Hermione breathed, looking at Harry.
"Good thing Fred and George didn't know about it, then," Harry said with a grin.
Hermione shook her head. "If Ginny can open it from inside the school, we can sneak in that way, once we know where it comes out."
"Oh." Harry grimaced. "Good point. Put it in the owl, then. Maybe see about staying in Hogsmeade; it'll probably come out there somewhere, anyway."
"I'll see about the Shrieking Shack," Hermione decided. "They should only have the passage guarded, not the Shack itself."
"And you can protect the Shack against them," Harry agreed. "Not a bad plan. If you can make it secure enough, leave a note for us back here at the hotel and Sly– Salazar and I will join you there when we've collected the cup. It'll be nice to have a spot closer to the school, especially if it'll let us get in contact with everyone inside for updates."
"And once we're rid of the cup and diadem, it's only Nagini and Voldemort himself left," Hermione agreed. "At that point, we're almost best off if he comes to us."
"Maybe," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'd rather keep any fighting away from the school, but if it comes down to it, it's as good a place as any to make a stand, and enough of the Order works there that we should be able to hold our ground."
Slytherin stood, brushing his hands against his tunic. "If you can't get into the Chamber through the Room," he offered, "try saying Godric, Rowena, Helga, and my first names, in English, to the entrance. I'm not sure of the exact order or if it will even work, but it was supposed to be something of an override."
Hermione nodded as she and Harry stood. "Got it. Thanks, Salazar."
"Certainly." Slytherin picked up his sword and cloak, which had been left on his chair from the night before, and put them both on. "Harry, to where are we headed?"
"I'm not completely sure," Harry admitted, grimacing when Slytherin frowned. "I figure Bellatrix is probably still staying with the Malfoys, and their manor is in Wiltshire, from what Mr Weasley said."
Slytherin let out an irritated noise. "Is this how you three always do things? Hope you get lucky?"
Harry and Hermione traded helpless smiles. "Yes," Hermione admitted. "Strangely, it always seems to work out in our favour."
"For the most part," Harry corrected, eyes dark with the memories of Dumbledore, Cedric, and Sirius dying in front of him.
"For the most part," Hermione agreed sadly, gently touching Harry's arm.
Harry offered her a pained smile in return, then looked to Slytherin. "I'll see how close I can get us," he offered, holding out an arm. "If it comes down to it, I can look around on my broom; figure Malfoy Manor's going to stick out a bit, knowing them."
"Good luck," Hermione offered as Slytherin took Harry's arm.
"Yeah, you too. Try to keep Ron from doing anything stupid?"
"I will," Hermione promised.
Harry nodded and apparated himself and Slytherin. The appeared in an empty field and Harry turned to hunt down his Cloak in his bag while Slytherin looked around. "We're in Wiltshire?" he asked.
Harry shrugged and pulled his Cloak out. "A bit south of it, I think, actually. I've flown over this area a couple of times, so I can't be completely sure where we are in regards to Malfoy Manor, but I know we're in the right area."
"So certain?" Slytherin replied, gazing across the field.
"Yeah. I read a map," Harry retorted before tossing his Cloak over his head. "You want me to try flying up and looking around?"
Slytherin shook his head and pulled out his wand. "Point me Malfoy Manor." His wand spun and pointed north-west of their position. "It appears we should go this way."
Harry groaned, but they both turned and started moving north-west. After a good ten minutes of silence, Harry said, "Tell me about the other Founders?"
"Hm." Slytherin rubbed at his chin. "I told you of Helga's interest in pretty things. I suppose you must know some of Rowena's love of the written word?"
"Yeah, that bit managed to remain through history."
Slytherin allowed a flash of a smile. "Rowena didn't care for pretty things, as Helga did, preferring to spend her time collecting and reading her books, or trading things for information. She liked to wear simpler clothing, as it was easier to slip in and out of, giving her more time for the gaining of knowledge. She was also quite the insomniac; I can't count how many times I would catch her up, reading, in some corner of the castle."
"But she had the diadem," Harry commented.
Slytherin nodded. "She created the diadem, actually, before I met her. She told us that she'd made it shortly after her home was burnt by witch hunters, taking all her books with it. She'd wanted a way to learn things faster, to retain more knowledge, so if her books were destroyed again, it wouldn't be such a loss. Her husband had a tiara that had been handed down in his family for generations, and it had managed to survive the fire, so she used it to house her spell." He sighed a bit sadly. "It was a beautiful piece; I'm saddened that it's become so tarnished, though I can't say if that's due to the passage of time, or Voldemort using–"
Slytherin's mouth snapped shut as cracks of apparation sounded around the two of them. Both Slytherin and Harry had pulled out their wands and pointed them at the circle of wizards surrounding them, though Harry took care to keep his Cloak covering him, even as he touched backs with the Founder.
"What 'ave we got 'ere, then? Another one o' them Order blokes."
"Order?" Slytherin snapped, glaring about the circle and holding himself in a way that Harry thought seemed very much like he would have expected of the Salazar Slytherin of history. "The only ordering going around here is me ordering you to refrain from pointing your wands at my person."
One of the men snorted and pulled out a bit of parchment. "Yeah, sure thing. What's your name, then?"
"Salazar Slytherin," Slytherin replied, voice like a whip.
The wizards surrounding them all froze for one long, silent moment, then the one who had asked his name let out a strained cough and snapped, "Your real name, boy!"
"That is my real name, you dirty cur," Slytherin spat. "And I'll thank you not to call me 'boy', unless you'd like to lose the rest of your fingers."
Harry peered around Slytherin and looked at the man who had the parchment. He was, indeed, missing two fingers on his left hand. "Parseltongue," he whispered before he turned back to watch the three men behind the Founder.
"Prove it!" one of the men Harry was facing demanded, waving his wand around erratically. "Prove you're Slytherin!"
Slytherin sniffed, then hissed, :Is this really necessary?:
Harry jerked in surprise when he understood what Slytherin had said.
"Little serpent?" Slytherin whispered.
Harry shook his head and touched the Founder's arm in a silent sign that he was fine. He had no explanation for his understanding of the serpent tongue, but this was hardly the time or place to debate it.
"I'd say that's pretty good proof, Sian," the man who'd told Slytherin to prove his claim was saying. "The Dark Lord and Potter are the only two Parselmouths, aren't they?"
"What says he's not Potter, then?" another man Harry was watching said.
The one with the parchment sniffed. "I don't much care who you are," he informed Slytherin. "The Dark Lord's name is Taboo; them that says it are up to no good."
"I couldn't care less what little tricks my Heir chooses to use against his opponents," Slytherin informed them coolly. "I need to reach Bellatrix Lestrange; I've been told she has access to something I require."
There was silence again at that, then the man who'd suggested Slytherin was Harry said, "If it is Potter, we're supposed to take him to Malfoy Manor anyway, aren't we?"
"Very well," the man with the parchment agreed. "But he's handing over his wand, first."
Slytherin looked for a moment like he might prefer cursing them all and continuing his walk, but he did eventually turn his wand in his hand and hold it out to the man with the parchment. Once the other man had it, Slytherin reached back and grabbed for Harry. The teen took his hand just before one of the wizards surrounding them took a hold of the Founder and apparated them outside a set of large, wrought-iron gates.
The iron contorted into a frightening face than demanded, "State your purpose!"
The man with the missing fingers stepped forward and announced, "Wizard here for Madam Lestrange. Says he's Salazar Slytherin."
There was a moment's silence, then the gates creaked open.
Harry stuck close to Slytherin's side as they started towards the large white manor, taking care to keep from touching any of the men surrounding them. They were met at the entrance by a tall woman with long blonde hair and a pinched face. "Narcissa Malfoy," Harry breathed to Slytherin as the woman demanded what they were there for.
"This man claims he's Salazar Slytherin," the man with the missing fingers explained, jerking his thumb at Slytherin. "And he says he's looking for Bellatrix."
"Slytherin?" Narcissa repeated, looking the Founder over and frowning at his unusual clothing. She looked back at the man with the missing fingers. "He could easily be lying."
:I'm getting tired of proving myself to these children,: Slytherin hissed, eyes narrowing when Narcissa looked around with a spark of fear in her eyes.
Narcissa took a careful breath. "Where is his wand?" she asked and the man with the missing fingers held it up. "Very well. Come in and I'll have Bella sent for." She turned and led the way inside, snapping her fingers for a house-elf as she went.
They met up with Bellatrix in a large drawing room. "You called me, Cissy?"
"Bellatrix," Harry whispered, though he doubted Slytherin needed it that time.
Bellatrix stepped forward, Narcissa having explained everything to her, and said, "Anyone can pretend to speak Parseltongue. Say my name: Bellatrix."
Slytherin cocked an eyebrow at her. :Bellatrix.: "I am not a sideshow for your amusement," he added, un-amused. "I had heard that you have access to Godric's sword; I require it."
Bellatrix cackled. "Require it, do you?"
Slytherin narrowed his eyes. Moving only the corner of his mouth, he whispered, "Little serpent, down." Harry had just reached the bottom of his crouch when Bellatrix pulled out her wand and pointed it at Slytherin. Before she could think to cast, Slytherin had drawn his sword in a smooth movement and spun on the spot, leaving violent red gashes across the chests of the men that had come to collect him and slicing Bellatrix's wand in half.
Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Harry stared at the Founder in disbelief as the five wizards crumpled to the ground, two of them grabbing for their chests, one of them gurgling.
"Yes," Slytherin said coolly, "I require it."
Bellatrix let out a screech and tossed her useless wand to one side, pulling a dagger out of her robes with her free hand. "Bella, no!" Narcissa cried, grabbing her sister's arm.
It was Slytherin that stopped Bellatrix, rather than Narcissa, by pressing the tip of his sword to her throat. "I wouldn't push me," he quietly commented, voice no less a warning for its volume. "If I didn't require you to get Godric's sword, you would already be dead. If I must, I will find another way into your Gringotts vault, but I still love my House enough to give you a chance. Put the dagger away."
"Bella, please," Narcissa whispered, tightening her grip on her sister's arm.
Bellatrix slowly slipped her dagger back into her robes, then held out her hands to show she was unarmed. "What do you want with that sword?"
Slytherin lowered his sword, but didn't sheath it. "There is a ritual I need it for, to curse those who have been sorted into Godric's House. It requires something of his, and the Sorting Hat has too much of Helga, Rowena, and myself to keep from affecting our Houses. That leaves the sword."
"It's my job to keep the sword safe," Bellatrix spat.
"I must assume that to be an order from my Heir?"
Bellatrix nodded, eyes narrowed.
"Indeed. Keep it safe for what, I wonder? A similar ritual later, or out of the hands of this 'Order' those fools–" he motioned to the dead and dying wizards behind him, "–mentioned?"
"...I don't know," Bellatrix admitted.
"The ritual will destroy the sword, so you will be following his will either way," Slytherin commented smoothly as he stepped away from Harry and plucked his wand from the fingers of the man who'd been missing fingers. The man twitched as Slytherin straightened and he stared down at the body for a moment before returning to his original position. There, he cast a silent cleaning charm at his blade, then slid it back into its scabbard at his waist.
Bellatrix and Narcissa watched his actions with sharp, wary eyes. Once the sword was properly away, Bellatrix said, "Very well, Lord Slytherin."
Slytherin raised an eyebrow, but didn't move to correct the title.
"We'll have to apparate to the Leaky, assuming you know it?" Bellatrix said with a barely concealed sneer.
"I am familiar with it," Slytherin agreed, reaching out behind him with the hand that didn't have his wand for Harry. Harry grabbed his hand and squeezed it, a silent promise that he could get them wherever they needed to go.
Bellatrix nodded and took the wand Narcissa held out to her with a sharp nod before apparating away. Before the sound of her crack had completely faded, Harry turned and apparated with Slytherin to the designated spot inside the Leaky Cauldron.
Bellatrix led the way from the inn to the white building at the far end of Diagon Alley. People scurried out of her way as she strode forward, glaring at everyone. Those that dared to look past her considered Slytherin's tunic and cloak oddly, and Harry made a mental note to get the Founder new clothing at their first opportunity.
For his part, Slytherin took in the Alley with sharp eyes. He looked over the dirty people hunched against walls with terror in their eyes and the boarded windows of the shops they passed. He saw, too, the posters with Harry's face on them, labelling him 'Undesirable Number One', and wondered what the boy at his back had done to earn Voldemort's wrath.
Getting down to Bellatrix's vault took little trouble, with her sharp insistence that they take her without asking questions. Fitting Harry in the cart without Bellatrix or the goblin noticing proved interesting, but they managed it without too much obvious fuss, Harry perching uncomfortably on Slytherin's lap and clutching the side of the cart with more force than he otherwise might have as they took the multitude of sharp turns.
At the vault, Bellatrix started to say, "I will retrieve–"
"Indeed?" Slytherin replied, expression cold and unyielding as Harry slipped past both humans and stood directly behind the goblin that was working on the door. As soon as it was open, Harry dashed inside and cast his eyes around for the cup. He finally spotted it on a high shelf as Slytherin and Bellatrix stepped into the vault, the witch looking quite cross. Slytherin's eyes flickered towards the cup, then towards a jewel encrusted staff resting under the shelf. He silently directed the staff to shift even as he turned his attention to Bellatrix, who was pulling the required sword from off another high shelf.
Harry grabbed the staff that had moved and, with some minor difficulty, snagged one of the handles of the cup. As he lowered the staff so he could collect the cup, Bellatrix knocked into something, startling him and almost causing him to drop the staff and jolting the cup off its precarious perch. It was only thanks to years of seeker training that he was able to catch the falling cup before it hit the ground and gave him away.
Once the cup was safely in his pouch, Harry carefully set the staff back against the wall, then brushed pointedly against Slytherin as he hurried out of the vault. The Founder finally stopped studying the sword and nodded. "Fine," he said. "It certainly appears to be the real thing."
"I told you it was," Bellatrix spat, leading the way out of her vault.
Slytherin sniffed, unimpressed, and they climbed back into the cart, Harry once again perched on Slytherin's lap.
Once they reached the surface, Slytherin inclined his head to the witch and said, "You have my thanks," before turning and striding towards the exit.
Bellatrix hurried to catch up, demanding, "I will watch this ritual!"
"Indeed?" Slytherin said, unimpressed. "Not with your head attached, I should think."
"I will!" Bellatrix insisted and grabbed for him as he stopped for Harry to apparate them.
As soon as they landed in the hotel room, Slytherin commented, "Little serpent, we appear to have brought a guest along." He touched Gryffindor's sword to Bellatrix's throat even as her dagger kissed his.
"Go ahead," Bellatrix hissed to him.
Harry pulled off his Cloak and smiled as Bellatrix's eyes widened, then cast a silent Body-Bind Curse before she could act. "Did you have to kill all those men?" he asked Slytherin as the Founder lowered Gryffindor's sword and stepped away from the dagger at his throat.
"No," Slytherin admitted, "but it made me feel better." He held out the sword to Harry as the teen frowned. "Here. This sword's a fake."
Harry took the sword and considered it. "That's what was wrong with it when you scryed it?"
"Yes. I figured it was something like that, but, as I said, I couldn't be sure until I saw it in person. It's an excellent replica, but it is made by magic, not goblins."
"Interesting." Harry set the sword against a nearby wall and looked at Bellatrix. "I'm a little torn about what to do with her," he admitted. "Letting her live is dangerous, since she could report us back to Vol– Him," he corrected, recalling what the group of wizards had said about the Taboo and having no interest in bringing more wizards down around them, even if it had never happened before while they were in Ireland. "On the other hand, killing her could warn him just the same, since Narcissa knows where she was going."
"Hermione did say it would be easier if he came to you," Slytherin pointed out and Harry shrugged and nodded. The Founder looked back at Bellatrix, who was watching them with wide eyes. "Well, I'm all for killing her–"
"Blood thirsty savage," Harry muttered and Slytherin flashed him a cruel little smile. "But?"
"But, I would like to see what information we can get from her, first. Like what my supposed Heir is up to."
"He's looking for something that was stolen from the wandmaker Gregorovitch," Harry replied promptly. At Slytherin's raised eyebrow, he tapped his clear forehead and explained, "I'd get visions of what he was up to. Good way to keep tabs on him, but a literal headache. No, I'd like to know more about this Taboo, and why it didn't affect us until we'd crossed back over to Britain. Also, anything she knows about the status of the Order, since that lot mentioned capturing some of them."
"What is this Order?" Slytherin asked.
"The Order of the Phoenix. It's a group put together by Professor Dumbledore to oppose Vo– him. Bollocks."
Slytherin snorted. "See if the eaglet left you a note about our next destination while I question Bellatrix. Unless you want to watch?"
"You're so many kinds of disturbing," Harry informed him. "Yeah, okay. Want me to pick us up some lunch, too?"
"Certainly."
Harry shook his head and left the hotel room. Hermione had left a message at the front desk for them to come along to the Shrieking Shack once they could. Harry thanked the lady at the desk, then left for the café down the street.
Twenty-five minutes later, Harry returned to the hotel room with two sandwiches for Slytherin. He was sitting on one of the beds, examining the fake sword; there was no trace of Bellatrix. "Here," he offered, holding out the sandwiches.
"I vanished her," Slytherin said as he set the sword aside and accepted the sandwiches. When Harry sat next to him on the bed, he offered his findings between bites, telling the teen about the Taboo and the five Order members that had been caught, none of whom Harry knew personally.
Slytherin had also learned, though he didn't mention it, the history of the war, needing to know what he was fighting for. After he'd killed and vanished the witch, he'd sat and considered things for a while before deciding that fighting with the three students was more to his liking than Voldemort's side, for all that he felt the same about non-magicals as his supposed Heir. He couldn't agree with the idea that those born of non-magicals were somehow worth less than those whose grandparents were magical, and he didn't much care for the heavy hand Voldemort used on his troops and his enemies.
In the end, Slytherin had spent too much time protecting and nurturing those of magical blood, no matter their parentage, to throw his lot in with Voldemort.
As he finished his second sandwich, Slytherin recalled one of his curiosities which Bellatrix hadn't been able to answer. "With the Snatchers, you jumped."
Harry frowned in thought for a moment, then his expression cleared as he understood the question. "Yeah. When you spoke in Parseltongue, I could understand you, even though the horcrux is gone."
Slytherin blinked. :You understand me even now?:
"Yeah. I mean, I can actually tell you're speaking Parseltongue – the hisses are more obvious to me than they've been in the past – but I definitely know what you're saying."
"It's possible the horcrux was with you for so long that, despite its removal, you still retain some of the skills it granted you," Slytherin suggested. "Can you still speak Parseltongue?"
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment before asking, "Parseltongue?"
Slytherin shook his head. "No."
Harry sighed. "Oh well. At least I can still understand it; that's more than anyone else can say." He stood and stretched. "Hermione left a note saying the Shack should be safe. We'll have to go by the front desk and check out, but we can head over whenever you're ready." He paused to consider the fake sword at Slytherin's side. "What are we going to do with the sword, by the way?"
Slytherin glanced down at it and shrugged. "It's not a bad sword; the heft is acceptable and it's sharp enough to use in battle, for all that it lacks the strength of its goblin-made brother." He picked it up and stood, considering Harry. "I must assume, by the lack of openly worn swords, that they are not common in this time?"
Harry's lips twitched. "No," he allowed. "Muggle authorities tend to look poorly upon those wearing blades on their person, and most witches and wizards consider muggle weaponry to be barbarian and less than a wand."
Slytherin sniffed. "More the fool, them. Non-magical weapons are plenty dangerous, and most shield spells don't guard against them. In my day, everyone wore some sort of blade, even if it was just some sort of dagger. It was not uncommon to see a duel with both magic and weapons."
Harry considered the sword. "I admit that I know nothing of swordcraft, other than the few programmes I saw on the telly while cleaning the living room, but it might be interesting to learn some." He paused for a moment, then glanced up into Slytherin's pale green eyes, which were watching him. "If you'd be willing to teach me?"
Slytherin stared at him for a moment longer before coolly stating, "If you're going to learn the sword, you're going to kill someone. Can you do that, my little serpent in a lion's fur?"
Harry reached up and touched the unmarked skin where his scar used to lay and said, with quiet certainty, "I don't have a choice."
Slytherin sighed, remembering Bellatrix's tortured explanation that Harry was prophesied to defeat Voldemort, hence his status as the most hunted man in the United Kingdom. "Indeed. Very well, Harry. Let us move on to this shack of yours and meet up with Ron and Hermione. If there is an acceptable space, I will teach you the sword."
"Thank you, Salazar," Harry replied quietly before turning and leading the way out of the room.
When they got to the Shrieking Shack, Ron and Hermione weren't in, but there were wards up that Harry recognised from their time in the wilds of Britain, and some of Hermione's books were spread out on a table. The trapdoor to the Whomping Willow had an anvil holding it shut, which left Harry laughing for a good five minutes while Slytherin wondered if he was mad. There was also a door on the wall of the house that Harry didn't remember from his previous visits, which opened to a darkened passageway that led in the direction of Hogwarts, so it was assumed to lead to the Room of Requirement.
Slytherin added a few more wards to Hermione's set-up, ensuring they wouldn't be found by any of their enemies, then the two wizards hunted down a sufficient room for learning swordcraft, which they set to for about two hours before Harry, exhausted, called a halt.
They were at the table on the main floor – Slytherin flipping through one of Hermione's books while Harry snacked on some crisps Hermione had packed him that morning – when the passage door opened to admit Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. There was a long moment of stillness as the three newcomers stared at the two wands pointed at them, then everyone relaxed and Ginny ran forward to hug Harry.
"The diadem is destroyed," Hermione told Slytherin as Ron stormed over to separate Harry and Ginny. "We brought back the basilisk fang we used for the cup, if you got it."
Slytherin nodded, relaxing back in his chair and waving towards the confrontation taking place on the other side of the table. "Harry has it. Who's the girl?"
"The–? Oh, that's Ginny. She's Ron's sister, and she and Harry are kind of not dating."
" 'Not dating'?" Slytherin repeated drily.
Hermione grimaced and dropped into the open chair next to the Founder after shooting a quick spell at it to make sure it would hold her weight. "They would be dating, but when we decided to spend the year hunting the horcruxes instead of returning to school, Harry insisted that there wouldn't be any sort of formal relationship between them, because of the danger. Not that Ginny's not already in danger, considering her brother's on the run and her family are all members of the Order, but she's also not yet of age, so she can't cast magic outside of school."
Slytherin raised an eyebrow at that. "Why not?"
Hermione blinked, then sighed. "You probably didn't have laws about that, did you? Well, British magical law states that any wizard or witch under age – that's seventeen – cannot use magic outside of their school unless they have yet to attend said school. The first time a child breaks the law, they're sent a warning letter, the second time they face a hearing in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and might lose their spot at the school and their wand snapped if they're found to be purposefully breaking the law."
"What if you're defending yourself from someone trying to kill you?" Slytherin wondered, frowning. He supposed, once magical schooling was more common, that it would make sense to keep young wizards and witches from using their magic indiscriminately at home, but it still seems impossible to him, having grown up using magic whenever and wherever he so pleased.
"There's a self-defence clause," Hermione explained, "but things can get a little sticky if you or your family has enemies in the Ministry. Harry almost had his wand snapped the summer before fifth year because the Ministry was smearing his name through the mud, even though he'd been protecting himself and his cousin when he cast magic."
Slytherin looked over at where Harry was laughing at something Ginny was saying to her brother. He watched them in silence for a long moment before calling, "Harry, the cup?"
Harry and the two Weasleys looked over at him, surprised, then Harry's expression cleared and he reached for his pouch at his side. "Yeah, hold on..."
"Still here?" Ron snarked at Slytherin and received a kick to the shin from Harry and a smack from Ginny. "Ow!"
Hermione sighed and rubbed at her forehead. "Ron..."
Slytherin considered the boy for a moment before asking, "Did you expect me to throw my lot in with my supposed Heir and his servants?"
Ron shuffled out of range of his sister and best friend before admitting, "Well, yeah."
"Why?" Slytherin wondered.
Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Harry snapped, "It doesn't matter," and glared at Ron.
"I should like to hear his response anyway," Slytherin replied calmly.
Harry frowned, but didn't move to stop Ron again when the redhead opened his mouth, so Ron said, "Well, just..." He floundered for a moment, then snapped, "All Slytherins are bad! And they're all hung up on that purity of blood nonsense and killing muggles!"
Slytherin considered Ron's flushed face in silence for a moment, ensuring he'd said his part, then commented, "I am not a pureblood."
"Well... Neither is You-Know-Who," Ron muttered, scowling.
Slytherin raised an eyebrow at that and looked towards Harry for verification.
"His father was a muggle," Harry agreed, "and his mum was a near squib. He was raised in a muggle orphanage, though, 'cause his mum died giving birth to him and his father wanted nothing to do with him."
Slytherin nodded and looked back at Ron. "My mother was non-magical. She raised me, and was killed for it. Do I like non-magicals? No, not particularly. Do I believe in murdering them indiscriminately? No." He nodded as Ron looked away, mouth tight. "Do you wish to know the blood status of the first Slytherin year?"
"All purebloods, I'd bet," Ron muttered, but there was no feeling to his words.
Slytherin's lips twisted with a smile. "About half what you would call 'muggleborns'. Of the other half, most of them were halfbloods. There were only two purebloods." He snorted at the four surprised looks he got. "Most of the purebloods ended up with Rowena or Helga."
"What I don't get," Ginny said, shaking her head, "is why, if you're so okay with muggleborns, those rumours about you would be so widespread. I mean, shouldn't it be a matter of public record that you allowed muggleborns in your House?"
"Records from the Founding are scarce," Hermione offered. "There wasn't really any form of magical government until the formation of the Wizards' Council in 947 – over one hundred years after Hogwarts' first opened – so there wasn't anyone to keep up with historical records. There are some records saved from the first century, written by students and professors, but they conflict with each other a lot, and they don't really say what the makeup of each House was, beyond the occasional number of students."
Slytherin shook his head. "Should have been in Rowena's House." Hermione flushed and slouched in her chair while the other three teens laughed. "As for why I am attributed with all of this blood purity nonsense? It could have been Godric being difficult, or it could have been the doing of one of my siblings, who took up their cause under my name; it's not like I was around to refute any claims as to my preference."
"That's true," Harry chimed in, looking towards Ginny and Ron. "Imagine what the world might think of the Weasley family a thousand years from now if Percy was the only one left to speak for you."
The two Weasleys grimaced. "Okay, yeah," Ron agreed before turning to Slytherin. "Okay, so maybe you're not onboard with You-Know-Who's view of the world. You're planning to stick around, then?"
Slytherin shrugged. "Where else would I go?" he asked, leaving Ron to blink dumbly while he turned to Harry and said, "Let's see about destroying that cup."
Harry took the cup from his pouch and Hermione slid a basilisk fang across the table. Not giving the soul in the cup time to fight back, Harry stabbed the fang into the engraved badger and they all winced as a wail came up from it before the cup cracked in half and fell silent.
They were all still for a moment before Harry cleared his throat and said, "So. Nagini and You-Know-Who left."
Ron let out a strangled laugh. "You did hear about the Taboo. Good."
"We meant to mention it," Hermione offered.
"We were caught by the Taboo," Harry admitted, "when Salazar and I were walking towards Malfoy Manor. It did make the trip a bit quicker, but, yeah, we've heard."
"Useful, that luck of yours," Slytherin added drily and Harry and Hermione both laughed while the two Weasleys grinned.
Hermione shook her head and her expression darkened. "How are we supposed to go about finding Nagini, anyway?"
Harry bit his lower lip, then looked at Slytherin. "If you could show me how to, I can scry for her. Could probably do that to keep an eye on You-Know-Who, too, now I'm without my scar."
"It is gone," Ginny realised, reaching out to touch Harry's unmarked forehead. "But, how?"
"You don't want to know," Ron insisted, shaking his head.
"And you should probably get back," Hermione agreed. "It's bad enough that you've missed classes today; best not to miss dinner."
"Yeah, okay," Ginny agreed. She and Harry shared a quick kiss, ignoring Ron's shout of, "Oiy!" She stopped next to the open door and asked, "Should I see about having food sent to you?"
"Yes please," Ron replied, eyes hopeful.
"Only if you can do it without arousing suspicion," Hermione insisted, shooting Ron an irritated look.
"You could use one of the house-elves," Slytherin pointed out drily. "I very much doubt they'd deny any student food, whether they're taking classes or not."
"But they might tell Snape," Ron muttered.
"There's one that won't," Harry realised, straightening in his seat. "Dobby!"
"Harry Potter has called Dobby!" the house-elf exclaimed as soon as he'd appeared next to Harry.
"Hey, Dobby," Harry said, grinning at the elf. "It's good to see you again."
Dobby's eyes went quite wide and looked suspiciously wet. "Harry Potter does Dobby great honour," he said, bowing his head.
"Stop that," Harry ordered, slipping from his chair so he could kneel in front of the house-elf. "We were wondering if you could get us some of whatever they're serving in the Great Hall."
Dobby looked up at Harry with wide eyes, then looked around the table – Ginny had left once Dobby appeared, shaking her head. His eyes paused at Slytherin and seemed to go even wider before he said, "Master Slytherin?"
Slytherin straightened in his seat, frowning. "You know me?"
"All Hogwarts house-elves know the Founders," Dobby replied, using Harry's abandoned chair to climb onto the table and get a better look at the wizard. He stood there for a moment, staring at Slytherin, then bowed deeply. "Dobby is honoured," he said solemnly.
Slytherin rested back in his chair. "The honour is mine, Dobby," he murmured.
Dobby squeaked and peeked up at the Founder. "Master Slytherin is a great wizard," he breathed before turning to look at where Harry was standing behind him, "just like Harry Potter."
"Dobby–" Harry started.
"Dobby brings food!" he declared and popped away.
"That was unexpected," Slytherin commented.
"He was being weirdly serious," Ron agreed, looking towards Harry. "He's never done that before, has he?"
"No," Harry agreed, re-taking his seat. "I'm usually lucky if I can stop him from bouncing in place for two seconds."
Dobby returned with a small feast and the humans hurried to clear the books, basilisk fang, and halves of the cup from the table, then settled in to eat. Dobby stayed with them, making sure they enjoyed the food and sharing Hogwarts gossip with the three teenagers, all of whom were interested in knowing how life was going, beyond what little Hermione and Ron had seen or what little Ginny had been willing to tell them.
In all, the picture painted was grim; students were tortured in classes and detentions by the Carrows. The original professors did what they could, but even they had to bow to the demands of the Death Eaters. Surprisingly, Snape had stopped a few punishments, from what Dobby said, though Harry and Ron had trouble believing that.
When they were finished, before Dobby could pop away, Slytherin finally spoke up to ask, "How are the house-elves being treated?"
The students all blinked in surprise, but Dobby offered, "Dobby has no complaints. Some of the other elves have had trouble with the Carrows, but Dobby was told to stay out of their way."
"By?" Harry asked, frowning.
"Headmaster Snape," Dobby answered. "Dobby attracts trouble, he told Dobby, and Dobby must not attract trouble from the Carrows. So Dobby doesn't."
"What sort of trouble are the other house-elves having with these Carrows?" Slytherin asked, eyes sharp with a quiet darkness.
Dobby hesitated to answer, but eventually admitted, "Theys getting kicked or hit. Manny was put under the Cruciatus for cleaning the sister's room wrong."
Slytherin nodded and pushed back from the table. "I see," he said before walking over to the door to the passage between the Shack and Hogwarts.
"Salazar, what are you up to?" Harry asked quietly, his voice tight with anger for his fellow students and the others at Hogwarts.
Slytherin stopped, hand on the edge of the half-opened door, and said, "I'm kicking those monsters out of my school," he said, voice like ice.
"They'll go back and tell You-Know-Who we're here!" Hermione shouted, standing.
"Then I'll take care of them before they can leave the school," Slytherin replied before stepping into the passage.
"What's he going to do, kill them?" Ron asked dumbly as Harry shoved back from the table.
"Yeah, I think he will," Harry replied before vanishing down the passage after the Founder. "Salazar!" he shouted at the retreating back as he ran to catch up. Once he reached him, he grabbed the man's arm and pulled him to a stop. "Look, none of us like what's been going on at Hogwarts, but anything we do is going to alert him that we're here."
Slytherin turned icy green eyes on the teen at his side. "I am not going to sit there while my students are tortured by their professors," he spat.
"But they're not your students," Hermione said as she and Ron caught up.
"They're in my school – they're my students," Slytherin replied. "You're not stopping me," he added as Harry opened his mouth to speak. "I understand the delicacy of the situation with my supposed Heir, but I will not sit back while those who seek safety within the walls I helped build suffer; I cannot. If he learns you are at Hogwarts, then we will make our stand here, where the wards can hold him back."
"Let's go, then," Ron said, face a mask of determination.
"Wait," Hermione ordered, then turned to the side and called, "Dobby?"
"Missy Hermy?" Dobby replied, appearing at her feet and looking up at her with wide eyes.
"Could you and the other house-elves make sure no one leaves the grounds?"
"Dobby will!" the house-elf declared before popping away.
"An excellent idea," Slytherin allowed before shaking Harry's hand off his arm. "Let's go."
The three teenagers made no further complaints, falling into step with the Founder like it was only natural. They met no opposition in the halls, though the portraits were sent into a tizzy when they caught sight of the four, and whispers of their names followed them from the seventh floor to the entrance hall.
Outside the closed doors of the Great Hall, Slytherin stopped and looked over the students. They all looked determined, though there was a light of fear in Hermione's eyes, while anger burned within Ron's. Slytherin nodded to himself and ordered, "Ron and Harry, stay outside these doors and keep an eye out for any students thinking to run away. Hermione, around that corner, at the end of the hall, is the alternate door; guard that for me."
"Of course," Hermione agreed, relief in her eyes.
"Only stunning," Harry added, giving Ron a look. "No matter their House or our personal feelings towards them."
Ron grunted, but some of the anger in his eyes cooled under Harry's knowing gaze. "Yeah, I know," he agreed at last.
"You'll be okay on your own?" Harry asked Slytherin as Hermione ducked around the corner.
Slytherin touched his sword and smirked when the teen grimaced. "I'm more than capable of handling these Death Eaters. And if I do, for some reason, require assistance, I trust yourself or Ron will rush to my aid like any fool lion would."
"No Gryffindor would rescue a Slytherin," Ron declared.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Even when that Slytherin's putting himself on the line for other Gryffindors?"
"Oh. Well, yeah, maybe then. I guess."
Slytherin snorted, then waved his wand at the double doors. They slammed open and he strode in, leaving Ron and Harry to peer around the doorway at his back, watching for anyone who thought it smart to try attacking the Founder when he wasn't looking.
Snape got to his feet first and waved the Carrows back as they pointed their wands at the intruder with curses on their lips. "State your name and purpose," the Headmaster ordered.
Before Slytherin could respond, a ghost soared in through the wall behind the Slytherin table and came to a stop over the Ravenclaw table, staring at the man in the centre of the Great Hall. "Salazar?" she breathed.
Slytherin blinked. "Helena." He shook his head. "We'll speak later," he ordered and she nodded. "My name," he said for the whole Hall, looking back at Snape, "is Salazar Slytherin, and I'm here to remove my Heir's servants from my school."
There was a moment's stillness, then the two Carrows both stood, roaring, "Liar!"
:Sit down!: Slytherin hissed, figuring that if it worked on the Snatchers, Narcissa, and Bellatrix, it would quite likely work on these two.
The two Death Eaters froze and many of the students leaned away from Slytherin, looking far more wary of him than when he'd first given his name. Snape appeared momentarily taken aback before recovering to ask, "What's to say you're not Potter, playing some ridi–"
"I'm right here, Snape," Harry called from the doorway of the Hall, arms crossed over his chest.
"The idea was to keep you out of sight while his people were still in the school," Slytherin told the teen.
Harry shrugged. "Because he wouldn't come running the moment he heard you were here."
"He doesn't want me dead."
"Yet."
"Slytherin!" Ginny shouted from the Gryffindor table and the Founder spun back to the Head table, where the male Carrow was snapping a Dark curse at him.
Slytherin drew his sword and held it up, letting the curse dissipate against it. As soon as the spell had faded, Slytherin turned his wand on the Death Eater and hissed, "Avada Kedavra."
The male Carrow took the curse in the arm and fell, dead.
The female Carrow let out a roar and jumped over the Head table, ducking Snape's reaching hand, and ran at Slytherin. He met her with the tip of his sword and watched grimly as the light left her eyes before kicking the corpse off the blade. To his left, he sensed movement, but twin flashes of spellfire from the door told him that Harry and Ron had things under control.
Slytherin met the black eyes of the Headmaster, who was surrounded by the wands of other professors. "You do not intend to fight?"
"He's too much a coward," Harry spat, coming to stand next to Slytherin.
Snape's eyes flared with anger and his hand twitched, as if towards a wand, but he made no further reaction to Harry's words, choosing, instead, to say, "I know when a battle is lost."
"Co–"
"Harry," Slytherin interrupted. When the teen glared up at him, he hissed, :Only the dishonourable continue to insult one who has surrendered.:
Harry looked away, frowning, but didn't say anything further to antagonise the Headmaster.
Slytherin looked back up at the Head table, where an older woman in green was taking Snape's wand. "Heads of Houses?" he asked and the woman with Snape's wand, a large man in a fine green robes, a plump woman with dirt and leaves in her hair, and a small man with white hair all looked at him, nodding. "Please see to it that the students make it to their dormitories, then join me in the Head office?"
"What about those students working with You-Know-Who?" the large man in the green robes asked, eyes flickering towards the Slytherin table.
"It's taken care of," Slytherin assured them before looking at Harry. "Collect Hermione and Ron and meet me outside the Head office?"
"Yeah. Want me to make sure Dobby and them know to stop any owls, too?"
"I'm sure he already knows, but it pays to be certain," Slytherin agreed.
Harry nodded and waved towards Ron, then pointed towards where Hermione was. The ginger nodded before disappearing out the doors and Harry made his way to the door, ducking a professor and grinning at those students who called his name.
Slytherin absently vanished the dead Carrow at his feet and cleaned his blade before sheathing it and stepping past the rising students to the Head table. A few teachers had moved to help the Heads of House in directing their students to their dorms, leaving two stern witches on either side of Snape, who had retaken his seat and was watching the movements of the members of his school with calm eyes.
Slytherin vanished the other Carrow once he reached the Head table, then looked at the two witches. "Forgive me, but I'm afraid I don't know anyone's name."
"I am Irma Pince, librarian," the thinner woman offered in a cool voice.
"Poppy Pomfrey," the other woman offered, smoothing a hand over her apron. "I'm the school mediwitch. And this is Severus Snape, as I doubt Mr Potter and his friends gave you a proper introduction."
"No. Harry and Ron are more interested in smearing his name whilst Hermione avoids all mention of him, if possible," Slytherin allowed, looking down at the calm Headmaster. Or ex-Headmaster, considering. He shook his head and looked up at the two witches. "Poppy, I believe Harry and Ron may have stunned a few Slytherins, and I'm not sure that anyone will think to check them. Could you...?"
"Certainly," the mediwitch agreed before gathering her skirt and hurrying off towards the Slytherin table.
"Irma, I'm not sure if you intend to join us in the Head office?"
The librarian shook her head. "Thank you, but no. If you have Severus in hand, I'll return to my rooms."
Slytherin inclined his head. "I believe we will manage. Thank you."
The witch nodded and walked away, taking care to step around the space where the male Carrow had been laying, though he was gone.
Slytherin considered Snape for a long moment before commenting, "If you would? I've some questions for you that I'd rather not ask in front of the students."
Snape gave a sharp nod of his head and joined Slytherin in walking to the alternate exit. Hermione and Harry were both gone, likely making for the Head office on the seventh floor, so Snape and Slytherin were left to walk alone, the sounds of hundreds of students making their ways towards their dorms echoing down the corridors. Slytherin took them a back way to their destination, avoiding the students, but not making it to the gargoyle before Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who lounged against the wall across from it.
"Move," Slytherin ordered the gargoyle and it slid to one side, allowing access to the spiral staircase beyond.
"Couldn't you have done him like you did the Carrows?" Ron complained as Slytherin motioned Snape to precede him.
"I don't kill in cold-blood," Slytherin replied. "Also, I have questions for him that I doubt any of the other professors could have answered. Come along."
As soon as Slytherin stepped into the office, a voice called, "Well, I'll be. Salazar, we'd wondered where you'd gone to."
Slytherin turned to glare at the object that had spoken to him, ignoring the whispering portraits above his head and Snape's brief startled look. "Indeed? Was Godric looking to curse me some more, then? Perhaps cure me properly of my unnaturalness?"
"Salazar," Harry whispered while Hermione let out a quiet whimper.
The hat sighed. "I believe he wanted to apologise, but he may well have been lying about that to see if someone knew where you'd disappeared to," it admitted. "He was...difficult after you left."
"Godric was always difficult," Slytherin snapped, then waved a hand. "Never mind that. You and I need to have a talk about sorting students." He pinned the hat with a chilled look.
The hat laughed. "You would complain. Admit it, you just want Harry in your House!"
"I want the students in the Houses they belong in, not in the ones they think are more to their liking," the Founder spat. "You weren't told to give them choices, but to sort them, you useless piece of headwear!"
"But then they whine," the hat complained. "Have you ever had an eleven-year-old whine at you because they didn't end up in the House they wanted?"
"Incidentally," Slytherin snarked, "yes. Multiple times."
Hermione cleared her throat. "Salazar, perhaps you can have this argument later?" she suggested while Ron and Harry lost the fight against their laughter and cracked up.
Slytherin cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Of course." He glanced towards the hat. "We'll speak later," he told it and it laughed. "Harry, Ron, shut up."
"Sorry, Salazar," Harry breathed, straightening. "It's just, you're arguing with a hat."
Slytherin decided ignoring the teenager was the safer bet and turned to Snape, who was watching everything with cautious eyes. "Severus, I was wondering if you could tell me where Godric's sword is. The real one," he added as Snape's mouth opened, "not the fake one that Bellatrix had in her vault."
"What makes you think Snape knows?" Ron demanded, dropping into a plush chair that Hermione had conjured for each of the teens.
"Bellatrix told Salazar it was Snape who put the sword in her vault," Harry explained.
"What makes you think that one was a fake?" Snape asked smoothly.
"I know Godric's sword, and that wasn't it. Not a bad fake, admittedly, but not good enough it could fool me. The real one?"
"Perhaps I don't know where it is."
"You try my patience, boy," Slytherin warned, motioning towards the teenagers as Ron opened his mouth to comment. Hermione smacked the boy and shook her head when he gave her a hurt look.
Snape's expression darkened at being called boy, but he nodded towards one of the portraits. "Dumbledore has it."
The three students all craned around to look, eyes wide, and the elderly man in the frame smiled at them. "So I do."
Slytherin glanced back at the teens, taking it the pained glimmers in their eyes at the sight of the elderly man. "Harry," he called and the boy looked at him. "It's yours to wield."
"Thanks, Salazar," the teen replied and got up to walk over to the portrait. "Sir," he said to the man inside.
"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore replied. "How goes your search?"
Harry smiled sadly. "Only Nagini and him left, now."
Dumbledore blinked in surprise. "Truly? You've found all the others?"
Harry nodded. "The cup was in Bellatrix's vault, with the fake sword, and Ravenclaw's diadem with in the Room of Requirement. Salazar scryed them for us." He paused for a moment, then carefully pulled his hair to one side, baring his forehead. "And me."
Snape let out a sharp breath, bringing the other four living humans to look at him suspiciously.
"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted, "how did you find out? And how did you remove it without facing Tom?"
"I know a horcrux when I see one, no matter its container," Slytherin offered the portrait, still watching Snape with narrowed eyes; the man's eyes had widened at the word horcrux, and some quick connections were forming behind the black eyes. "Who is 'Tom'?" Slytherin added, glancing towards Harry before returning his attention to Snape.
"Tom Riddle," Harry explained. "That's You-Know-Who's birth name. He hates it, thinks it's common and muggle, 'cause he shares it with his father."
Slytherin snorted. "Indeed." He turned his attention to Dumbledore, since Snape seemed to have once again mastered his expression. "My supposed Heir didn't have to be the one to remove the horcrux; any Killing Curse would do." Seeing the connections the deceased Headmaster was making before he could even get there himself, Slytherin added, "I focussed the spell on the physical representation of the horcrux, the scar; the spell never touched Harry."
Harry shook his head. "A slight headache, but otherwise I was unaffected."
"I see..."
Slytherin shook his head. "Dumbledore, perhaps you can help me with a riddle?" he asked as the professors started appearing at the top of the stairs into the office.
Dumbledore blinked and nodded to Slytherin. "Certainly."
"Why is it, that a man who is loyal to my supposed Heir would place a copy of Godric's sword in the vault of one of his fellows?" Slytherin wondered, smiling at Snape, who tensed. "More importantly, why would that same man go to lengths to protect the students, staff, and house-elves of my school when his master could care less about their health or happiness?"
There was a long silence as the teens and group of staff that had stopped in the entrance to the office digested that. Snape stood stiffly through the silence, giving nothing away.
Finally, Harry said, "I saw him kill Dumbledore, Salazar."
Snape glanced towards the portrait Harry still stood in front of and Dumbledore sighed. "Something he did on my orders, my boy," the elderly man admitted. "I was already dying from the curse in my hand; better Severus kill me than Bellatrix or Fenrir Greyback."
"Albus," the woman in the green robes breathed, stepping further into the room so she could better see the portrait. "This is true? He's not a traitor?"
Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "He is not, Minerva," he agreed.
"He cut off George's ear!" Ron shouted, standing and glaring at Snape. "And don't tell me lies about how you set that up with him before!"
"That was an accident," Snape allowed stiffly. "I was not aiming at Mr Weasley."
"Oh, an accident, was it?" Ron spat. "How about I acciden–"
"Ron, no!" Hermione shouted, grabbing for his arm as he pulled his wand from a pocket.
"Expelliarmus," Harry intoned, catching Ron's wand as it flew across the room.
"Harry!" Ron shouted.
"Ron," Slytherin cut in coolly, "you will cease with these theatrics and sit down, or I will banish you to your tower."
"He cut off my brother's ear!" Ron insisted, turning to the Founder with fury in his eyes.
"And what do you intend to do to him in return? Cut off his ear? Perhaps you will be the one to miss this time and take off his whole head, instead?" Slytherin wondered. Ron blanched and the older wizard nodded. "Sit." As Ron dropped back into his chair, pale, Slytherin looked at the professors clustered at the top of the stairs. "Please, take seats. I'm sure you'll have your fair share of questions, as I have mine, and we need to decide how to handle the students, considering the current situation. Severus, you as well. And perhaps someone could return his wand?"
As the professors filed in and found or conjured seats, Slytherin joined Harry by Dumbledore's portrait, where the deceased Headmaster was warning, "It's been infused with basilisk venom from when you killed the one in the Chamber, so use it with care."
"Yes, sir," Harry agreed before opening the portrait and taking the sword out of the hidden cavity behind it.
"May I?" Slytherin asked once the portrait was closed, and Harry handed the sword over without complaint. Slytherin considered the sword with sharp eyes for a long moment before turning to the hat. "Who cast the Curse of Recall on this?"
"Helga," the hat replied. "After Godric's death, the goblins demanded it back, insisting it had been stolen or some such."
"Of course they did," Slytherin replied. "Rowena warned him that would happen, no matter what Ragnuk said when he gifted it to Godric." He shook his head and conjured a sheath for the sword before handing it back to Harry. "It's spelled to return to the hat unless owned by a magical human that Godric would have found worthy of wielding it; the sword never would have stayed in Bellatrix's vault, had the real one been placed there."
"It'll stay with me, then?" Harry asked quietly.
"For so long as you fight to protect the magical world, it should," Slytherin agreed. "Take care, however, that you only wield it against that which you wish to kill, as a single cut with this blade will inject basilisk venom into your opponent."
Harry looked at the sword uncertainly. "Maybe I should stick with the fake one."
Slytherin snorted. "This is the better blade, by far. I would offer you my sword in trade, but I don't know that that sword would accept me."
"Why wouldn't– Oh." Harry grimaced. "Gryffindor was a real jerk, wasn't he?"
Slytherin chuckled. "He had his moments. Now, come, let's sort this mess out so we can all get some sleep."
Harry returned to his conjured chair and they all settled in for three hours' worth of discussion, starting with a quick round of introduction and assurances from Slytherin, Harry, Hermione, and Ron that the Founder wanted nothing to do with Voldemort and his people beyond seeing the end of them. This was followed by trying to figure out what to do when Voldemort finally cottoned on and came down on Hogwarts. Slytherin was certain he could power the wards to keep the school free of Death Eaters, and he promised to change the password on the Chamber to act as a hiding place for the fifth years and below when it came to it. The teens also let everyone know about the secret passage from the Shrieking Shack and McGonagall agreed to send out the call to the rest of the Order, telling them to gather at Hogwarts, so they'd have a fighting force on hand.
As for anyone trying to warn the Death Eaters about the change in the school's ownership, Dobby was called and he agreed that the house-elves would continue to watch for students attempting to leave or send owls to anyone connected to the Death Eaters. Snape would continue to send reports to his compatriots on the outside, hopefully keeping them from warning Voldemort. Harry was the one to suggest they allow the Death Eaters to know that Slytherin was in residence, but make it seem as though he was onboard with Voldemort's way of doing things, so there would be less questions about the change in contact with those outside Hogwarts.
Once that was sorted, they turned to talking about classes. It was agreed, after a great deal of back-and-forth, that classes would resume the next day, with Snape returning to the Defence position and Muggle Studies discontinued for the year. Slytherin would take over the Headmaster's duties, while McGonagall returned to her position as deputy. Harry, Ron, and Hermione would return to classes – much to Ron's horror, Harry's sadness, and Hermione's glee. Things would be explained to the students at breakfast the next morning.
Slytherin finally dismissed them when he felt everything important had been covered and remained in his seat while everyone slowly dispersed. Snape retreated to the bedroom attached to the office – Slytherin had offered to let him keep it, having no preference for one bed or another, but Snape insisted he would be more comfortable in his old quarters – and McGonagall stopped by the teens to tell them the Gryffindor common password before leaving.
Harry waved his friends on before stepping over to Slytherin, grimacing when the sword at his side caught on a chair someone had forgotten to vanish. "Salazar?"
Slytherin glanced up and smiled at the teen. "What is it, Harry?"
"I'd like to try scrying Vol– sorry, You-Know-Who before I head up to the dorm. Maybe Nagini, as well."
Slytherin nodded and shifted in his chair so he could pull out his mirror, saying, "I'd like you to stay in the school tonight and tomorrow, however. The students might well appreciate seeing your face around."
"You mean they'll trust you more if I show I trust you," Harry replied, motioning for a chair to move next to the older wizard and sitting in it. "Yeah, okay, I can do that. Probably easier if I wait until Saturday to go Nagini-hunting, anyway."
"You won't miss any classes that way," Slytherin agreed, handing over his mirror.
"Sometimes, I forget you're a teacher," Harry commented with a grimace and the Founder chuckled. "Okay, how do I scry in the present?"
"It's not hard," Slytherin promised, resting back in his chair. "Focus all your thoughts on the thing you wish to scry. Try not to expect it to be in a particular place or with a particular person, just focus on the object – or person – itself."
Harry nodded and turned his thoughts to Voldemort as he knew the man: cold, uncaring, afraid of death, and searching for something. Although, Harry amended, he might well have found the thing already. He looked down at the mirror and let out a quiet, "Oh," as an image formed. It took him a moment to figure out what was happening, then he shook his head. "He's flying again. Without a direct connection to his thoughts, I can't say if he's still looking for that blond thief or headed here."
"Blond thief?" Dumbledore interrupted.
Harry turned and blinked at Dumbledore, thoughts jumbled for a long moment before he recognised the question and said, "Yeah. He went to Gregorovitch, looking for something, but Gregorovitch said it had been stolen a long time ago. By a blond boy. I saw a memory of him." Harry shook his head. "He seemed familiar."
"Curly blond hair?" Dumbledore asked, something very like suspicion lurking in his blue eyes.