Chapter 1
Salazar was furious. His friends, his supposed friends, had locked him inside the dungeon. Salazar's own dungeon; his self-entitled 'Chamber of Secrets'. And why had they done such a thing? Over an argument!
Muggles had stormed the castle, intending to destroy all the witches and wizards they found. Of course, they had easily been repelled by casting a couple of charms, but the damage remained.
Godric had argued that nothing had to change: they could slip a potion into the muggles water supply to make them more open minded to the idea of magic. Rowena had argued against this idea, claiming that the muggles did not deserve to be brainwashed. Godric had argued that there was no other way they could continue to live peacefully with the muggles and Helena had agreed. Helena always agreed with Godric, no matter the issue.
It was then Salazar had spoken up. He had suggested that they cast a memory charm on the muggles, removing their memories of magic, and retreated into secrecy. Rowena had agreed with him, as was usually the case: the two were oddly alike. But Godric had refused to entertain the idea. Sometimes Salazar wondered if Godric really was brave, or just as arrogant as people assumed Salazar to be.
Godric's trump card in the argument had been the muggle born witches: if wizards were hidden how could they continue to teach muggle borns. Salazar had said that they would consider the options, that nothing could be decided this early. Godric had twisted this to imply Salazar was ostracizing the muggle borns. This was the argument he'd used to win over Rowena's alliance.
Then they had locked him up here, with only his basilisk for company.
And now Salazar was working on a spell to free him from the chamber, to break through the spell Godric had placed on the entrance.
Finally, after considering for almost three months, Salazar had a spell he was certain would work.
"Sisto liberatas!" He chanted turning on the spot, as he would to disapperate. He repeated the spell seven times- a magical number- to obtain the maximum strength. He'd need it to counter Godric's magic.
He opened his eyes and everything had changed. He was standing by a basilisk skin easily ten times the size of his basilisk facing a large pipe headed into the ceiling. Where were the stone steps that he'd built between the chamber entrance and here? Why was there a pipe in its place?
He expanded his consciousness around him; Godric's magic and all traces of it were gone. Slowly, he walked towards the pip entrance and slid himself inside. He used a quick anti-slip spell and headed up the smooth surface of the pipe. As he ascended his was baffled by the large pipes leading off from the main one. Something very strange was going on; evidently his spell hadn't worked as he'd intended yet he couldn't refute that Godric's magic had gone.
After what felt like an age, his stairs were definitely more direct, he finally reached the top.
"Open" he hissed in parseltongue, then exited the chamber.
He was bet not by Godric or Helena but by a woman who bore a strange resemblance to Rowena. She was pointing a thin wooden stick at him and wore an astonished look on her face.
"Slytherin." She gasped, it wasn't a question. She knew him then?
"Rowena?" He asked, though he knew it to be untrue. Rowena would never have called him Slytherin and, while her face was the same, Rowena's eyes were blue and this young woman's were brown. He looked around him and discovered more had changed: this room, once his lounge of his own personal living quarters was now a bathroom.
"No, I'm not Rowena." The young witch explained shakily. "I'm Hermione Granger, Headmaster of Hogwarts. And you are Salazar Slytherin."
Headmaster of Hogwarts? Salazar thought to himself, wasn't that Godric's self-imposed title? Was this young witch some relation to that treacherous bastard?
"Where is Godric? I must speak with him, immediately. And, for the love of God woman, why are you pointing a stick at me?" He demanded, attempting to sweep past her to no avail. She mirrored his every move.
He saw her expression turn from scared to confused. Her stick lowered slightly and her stance relaxed.
"You didn't mean to come here, did you?" She asked in realization. "Which probably means you have no idea where you areā¦" She trailed off and her expression flitted to nervousness.
Ignoring the fact that her face was the most expressive he'd ever seen, he interrupted her as she opened her mouth to speak again.
"Of course I know where I am, this is bloody Hogwarts. What I want to know is where Godric is? And what the bloody hell has happened to my living quarters?" He demanded, looking around at the foreign items that he had no idea how he was able to decipher. Come to think about it, what was this language he was speaking, so similar yet so different to his own, and why was his mind making sense of it?
"Mr Slytherin, I think you had better come with me so that I can explain the situation." The witch whose name he couldn't remember turned and led him out of the room. He instinctively took her arm as she walked and allowed her to guide him. She sent him a stricken look, but allowed the contact as she led him throughout the castle.
They stopped outside of an alcove containing a statue of a griffon. Throughout the walk, Salazar had recognised the layout but the design had changed completely. What had Godric done?
"The Elder Wand" The woman spoke unexpectedly and, at first, Salazar thought she was addressing him, but when a moving staircase appeared behind the griffon he realised it had been a password. They stepped onto the stairs which took them up to a large wooden door, which the woman opened and ushered him inside.
Take a seat Mr Slytherin." She offered as she sat behind a large wooden desk. He looked around the circular room filled with instruments he didn't understand, and more books than he'd ever seen before.
"Call me, Salazar, please." He implored as he sat opposite her and waited for her explanation. He studied her as he watched her fumble for the words. Her face was framed by those beautiful large brown eyes and matching brown curls were piled on top of her head. Her skin was a light brown and her full red lips stood out in contrast. What struck him the most was the intelligence he saw hidden in her eyes; this woman was very like Rowena indeed.
"Salazar, you appear to have travelled forward in time. This is the same Hogwarts that you knew, just quite a few hundred years later." The witch explained, clearly expecting him not to believe her. But Salazar was an accomplished wizard; he had done things more obscure than time travel before.
But just to be sure that this was the truth, Salazar took a look inside the witches mind. Careful not to pry, he only looked for her name and the current date. Both took only a moment to locate and then he left her mind before she could feel the touch of his. He discovered her name was Hermione Jean Granger and it was the year 2012. Yes, he was quite a distance in the future.
"I see. Well, it would appear that the spell I was trying to create went slightly awry then, wouldn't it?" He asked her, a dry smile on his face as her face went from anxious to relieved, that he'd believed her? "Would it be possible for me to stay here until I find my way back?"
Hermione didn't look surprised, but nodded almost immediately. If Salazar wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw a spark of excitement in those beautiful eyes. "Of course you may stay here, if you would let me help you discover where you spell went wrong." Her requirement didn't surprise him, it was exactly what Rowena would have said and he's started to think of this witch as Rowena. It was not a wise move, he knew, but he couldn't help it: the two women could have been one and the same but for their eyes.
"Of course you may, Hermione. I would expect no less from a Headmaster of Hogwarts." He agreed.
"Fantastic!" Her enthusiasm was yet another display of emotion that let him read her as easy as a book. "In that case, would you like to accompany me to the Great Hall for some dinner?"
