A/N: Salazar Slytherin has always seen things differently compared to his colleagues. Founder's Era. I have a bit of a problem writing Founder's Era fics, so I hope I did a good job with this one.

Submission for:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Arithmancy Assignment #6 - Write a story either set in the future (Next-Gen) or in the past (Marauders, Founders era etc).

Hogwarts Fair 2014 Challenge/Competition: Laughing Hippogriffs - Founder's Era

Greek Mythology Mega Prompt Challenge: Hades – Write about Salazar Slytherin. Write about the Chamber of Secrets.

The "As Many As You Want" Competition: roses are red, burning your bridges, first day of school, "Shut up!"

Duelling Club Competition: Quote - "There's only power and those too weak to seek it!"

Fanfiction Terminology Challenge: Founder's Era

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"When we formed this school, it was for honour!" Godric said, slamming his fist down on the table and his eyes flashing in fury. He stood at the round table before his colleagues, Rowena, Helga and Salazar. They had been discussing the formation of their school, a dream shared by all, Hogwarts. It was being opened to help young wizards and witches to learn and practice their ability. They would become the new generation and they too would continue to teach others. There was so much that went into organizing something of this magnitude and right now, as frequently, Salazar had opposing views.

"Shut up! It was for more than that. It was for ability, natural magical ability, to hone a wizard's true power. There's only power and those too weak to seek it. No more of this righteousness and nobility. If they don't have what it takes, send them out," Salazar shouted back, pointing his cane at the door. "Let them find private mentorship."

"Salazar, be reasonable," Helga said, placing her hand softly on Salazar's arm to her right. "They need this guidance or their magic will continue be unstable. They be doing great and dangerous things with no idea how to control them. We can't risk the Muggles finding out about us again. There have already been many losses."

"Then they deserved it for not being able to keep themselves hidden," Salazar screamed again, shrugging off the woman's hand. "They lacked the ability. We can only take in those that are truly gifted."

"We will take on those who need a little more work so they do not lack the ability," Rowena said, a frown on her small mouth. "The first day of school is fast approaching. Everyone has a right to be taught and to learn if they want to."

"No, you can believe what you want but I will not live in your little world where the roses are red, the sky is always blue and everyone is at peace," Salazar said to them all. He turned and swept out of the room with a swish of his cloak as fast as his cane could carry him. The large doors closed with a bang behind him.

Didn't they understand? If it was up to him, only his family would be allowed to learn, but that wasn't the purpose of this union, of this school. He agreed with Godric about teaching the youth, others that were unable to control their magic, but only those who were truly deserving: the purest and the most talented, those whose magic ran back for generations, who had known magic and its beliefs their whole lives, who felt the torture and humiliation at the hands of those Muggles for possessing power even greater than themselves, power that could wipe them out in one go. But Godric always said to be righteous and just; not because we have the power, we should use it.

Salazar thought differently. Only those who were clever, with true ability, had what it took to get by in this world. Those Muggles, he spat onto the stone floor as he even thought of the word, they were vicious savages who feared true power. And muggleborns, he spat again, were just those who were somehow lucky to be given this gift. He was still trying to figure out how they came to be and they were knocking at the door everyday. Let Helga take in all those Muggles. Salazar would stay true to his own beliefs, mentally burning the bridges he had with those sympathizers.

He found himself in the dungeons, his home. He felt at peace here, among the dark, among the crevices. Even with the cold seeping through the walls, he felt a warmth which gave him a strength he couldn't really place. He walked through the many corridors until he came before a seemingly plain stone wall. What lay behind it would make the others' hair stand on end, and he could see Godric's face turning red in anger. But only someone like him could get in. It was the ability of his family, something of true power, something those Muggles would never understand: Parseltongue. He had his own plans for those mudbloods. He whispered and then descended into the Chamber to check on the basilisk eggs. One should be hatching soon and he didn't want it to eat the others.