THE RETURN OF SLYTHERIN

-CHAPTER ONE-

BETA: Medusa

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any HP characters, they belong to JK Rowling.

WARNING: SLASH male, male. Slight AU, nothing much. OOC like all fan fiction and Swearing.

NOTE: My version of the Gothic themes isn't particularly like the "real" Gothic peoples views in the society today. It has nothing much to do with them or their culture. I know "real" gothic people, and since they don't take offence to this I hope no one else does either. This is seen from a humorous and pretentious point of view. Keep that in mind and give it a chance.

The crypt was dark and damp. It smelled of death and earth. The floor was dirty and the dust lay thick over the stone coffin in the middle of the airy room. The crypt surely hadn't been opened for centuries.

This is perfect! Harry Potter, 15, thought as he looked around in the dull room. Luckily for him he had created some sort of a night vision made by supposed accidental magic, he wasn't really certain of that at this point. He sure had needed it because he had been locked into the cupboard ever since he returned to the Dursley's regards of the threats the order had told them at the station. Strange magical things always seemed to happen to him, but this time he wasn't complaining about it. He thought it was rather cool and it came in handy most of the times.

It must have been his raw magic that kicked in to help him survive when he was locked in. He could think of nothing else. This time around Vernon had actually had the guts to make sure his usual light bulb was smashed, so he was constantly surrounded by darkness. The small cracks in the door didn't give him much light at all. Petunia must have ordered Vernon to fill the cracks with something.

"Fat muggle pig," he murmured and frowned as he thought back about it. Cursing didn't help the matter, but at least it made him feel better. He loved to vent his feelings by cursing out loud.

After three weeks locked into the cupboard (occasionally let out to write assuring letters to the order or to use the loo) he was actually allowed to stay in the second bedroom again. He had still no idea as to what had brought the sudden change on and he sure as hell didn't ask the muggles about it. Just when things had looked better Aunt Marge had come and he couldn't help but to blurt out some critical stuff about his life situation so the Dursley's threw him out of their house and refused to take him back no matter what.

The look on Aunt Marge's face when I told her 'I am a wizard' will forever be with me, he thought with glee and though it had been worth saying it in the long run. The Dusley's had never done anything for him, and he felt he was mature enough to manage on his own from now on.

After he had been thrown out he had mailed the order but he never got any letter in return. So he went to Mrs Figg's place but no one opened the door for him. Since, clearly, the order didn't want to have anything to do with him he decided, with a heavy mind, to find himself some place to live. It hadn't been easy to come up with ideas as to where he could possible live, when suddenly he remembered how he felt drawn to gothic people and dark places.

It might be extremely farfetched, but he got the splendid idea of living at graveyards and such. He had always loved Halloween, it didn't matter to him if his parents were killed in that time, and it could just as easily have been during Christmas or whatever.

He had finally found a cemetery to his liking. No one would look for him there, and it was for free. Since he didn't have any muggle money and didn't fancy selling himself on the street he thought this option was perfect. He had almost felt a magical pull towards the place he was standing in front of right now. He had been looking for a nice crypt and it finally looked like he had found 'the one'. He didn't truly believe in destiny, but if it really existed, this would be it.

The tricky part had been to get inside since they were all locked or the doors were stuck by age. That's when his wandless magic came to his rescue once again. He was very surprised over the fact that he could perform it. He had only read about it once, but his power was different from what he read about. He didn't have to say incantations, or even think them, he just pictured what he wanted and the rest was just happened. All through, if he said an incantation that worked just as well. He couldn't get everything to work, and it was quite hard at times, but he thought it was a fairly good start. Perhaps he could get better at wandless magic if he kept practicing.

So here he was, all alone, standing in a crypt that was now 'home sweet home'. It was a good place, the best he had seen so far. The place was intact and no one would ever imagine look for him there. People probably thought he was afraid of graveyards since his forth year. That was wrong. Maybe it was his Slytherin side that finally kicked in or maybe it was something else entirely, but he liked things bordering on the macabre. He didn't believe he had inherited his Slytherin genes from Voldemort like Dumbledore had claimed. It was his very own establishment. Dumbledore just said it had to do with Voldemort to scare him and control him, and look what it led to! Sirius was dead! He was his own person, and it was time for people to realize that.

Harry shook his head from all the wandering thoughts and began to clean the crypt with his wandless magic and while he was at it he made sure to set up some strong magical wards to hide his presence and make wizards, muggles and other creatures alike keep away from him and his home. By doing so he also 'vanished from the face of the earth' in other peoples eyes, which he sure goddamn well knew. He just didn't care if he upset anyone, making them think that their precious saviour was dead. He wouldn't do anything for them anymore, unless he got something out of it himself.

He was busy in his new 'home' and he cleaned out the worst mess such as insects, mud, dirt and everything else there could possible be after being left alone for such a long time. He began to set up some black candles around the room when the worst dirt was gone. He might as well go all the way when living in a grave, and black candles were the perfect pretentious thing. He had already brought the candles in a muggle store with some money he had found on the street just laying there. He couldn't believe the luck he had had so far, and he was determent not to let it turn on him. He didn't need any lights but even through he could see in dark it wasn't the same as the light he preferred.

When the coffin standing in the middle of the crypt suddenly opened slightly with a terrible scraping sound it scared the shit out of him. But to his credit he didn't scream nor run. Instead he stood at the far end of the room and watched tensely as it moved more and was ready to defend himself if needed. It could be a ghost with a solid body or a vampire; he wasn't totally stupid like people thought. He did know how to read a book, but he rarely did while being seen by people. It was his Slytherin side again that acted. He liked the element of surprise, but he disliked being surprised himself so he had acted stupid from the very beginning when he first came to Hogwarts to make people underestimate him.

Everyone thought he had gotten out of Voldemort's clutches with sheer dumb luck all the times they had faced each other, which wasn't true even if he had said so himself. Come on, who has that kind of luck four times in a row? Surprisingly no one ever questioned that so he must have done a hell of a good job acting! Even if he had had 'help' he would have been fine without it and in the end it had always come down to him. He had been the one to figure out how to use the help to get out alive.

Harry raised an eyebrow when he heard wildly cursing coming flying out from the coffin. This event was too bizarre even for him, to be in this kind of situation, so he laughed quietly. But now at least he knew it was a man he had to deal with. Since his eyesight had changed he didn't need his glasses, which was a huge relief for him since by now his round glasses were almost as famous as he was. He had also gone trough an impressive growth spurt, he was defiantly taller than the average guy now! He was certainly much more graceful than Ron; then again it didn't take much to beat Ron at that.

What more was that he had fitting black clothes, a present from someone called Rem Loov. He had no idea of who the person was but it must have been someone magical because the present arrived with owls, two owls that he had never seen before. He had been very suspicious first, he thought they were hexed or something but he did a few tests and decided that they were harmless, and besides, they looked nice so he thought 'why the hell not'

After a while Harry grew tired of waiting for the person in the coffin with an apparent attitude problem to get out of there, so he cleared his throat and the curses stopped abruptly.

"Excuse me but are you going to get out of there anytime soon? I'd like to get you the hell out of here so I can finish my decorations," he said dryly. He was completely fearless. He was confident he could beat whoever or whatever it was in the coffin. Yet that didn't mean he thought himself invincible. He would not make the same mistake others did to him, underestimate people

"What? Who the hell are you? And it would be easier to get out of here if I wasn't tied up!" the voice spat. Harry snorted and crept nearer. But not too close yet, it could be a trick.

"Well hello? Take your time, I like it here so much, it's no problem... Help me sometime in this century thanks!" the voice said again but sarcastic this time.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up or I'll leave you in there for good," he snarled. He did not like being bossed around, and that voice coming from the coffin was extremely rude. Harry demanded respect, he was worth it and he would get it no matter what. He would no longer allow being stepped on like a door mat.

The voice made an ignorant huff but stayed quiet. Harry walked closer and peered down in the coffin. He was shocked to see a rough and slightly older version of himself lying in there. The other person seemed just as surprised. Harry blinked when the man spoke to him.

"Harry Potter. Well I certainly didn't expect to see you here. Although I did come back just to meet you."

"Who are you?" he asked coldly, something odd was going on here and he didn't like it. He didn't like missing out on things. This person obviously knew who he was, and he himself had no clue who the man was. He wouldn't take any chances. It could be the last thing he'd do.

"Tsk, tsk, manners, where the hell were you brought up? No, stupid question, I already know the answer."

"Your name," Harry cut him off in an even colder voice than before. The man was indeed tied up, he could see the ropes clearly. They must be made of magic, or at least spelled to stay intact or else they would have crumbled to dust by now, he thought. His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out why this was happening. He had felt a magical pull towards this place, could some spell have been placed on him without him noticing? Did someone or something want him to enter this crypt? Who was the man, and why was he in the coffin? Or more importantly, why the fuck isn't he dead yet? he thought.

The man stopped with his feeble attempt to get rid of the ropes. "Set me free first," the man said cleverly and Harry snorted incredulously. The hell I will! he thought. Harry smirked at the man as he said:

"No."

The man glared at him annoyed but Harry glared back and showed no sign of backing down. Finally the man appeared to give up. "Fine! I'm Salazar Slytherin. Happy now?" The man said sourly. He was acting childishly and Harry just continued to smirk at him. As odd as this seemed, he was also slightly amused by it.

"Oh my! You think I'll actually buy that?" he asked.

The man nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yes. I took a potion right before I died, another version of the draught of living death, and a very, very strong and complex one at that. I'm sure you've heard I died young. I had a vision about you and Voldemort and I realised that my heir and you shouldn't be fighting each other for reasons I will get to later, so I came back here to set things straight between you. Seen as Voldemort has gotten my teachings terribly wrong I have to do something about it. I'm not a muggle hater!" he said fiercely.

Well that explains the looks, Harry thought. Even the one and only Tom Riddle had looked similar to him before he had changed... He had also seen paintings of Slytherin and they looked the same. Still he couldn't figure out if this was a joke or something. Reluctantly he spoke.

"Alright, Let's say I accept this. That I believe you. What will you do?" he crossed his arms defiantly and looked down in the coffin. "Slytherin" almost looked insulted over the question.

"Isn't it obvious? Clear my name, set both you and Tom on the right track again, stop the war... an awful long and heavy process!" Slytherin said annoyed.

"You forgot to say 'impossible'" Harry said mockingly. Salazars's glare was more sever than Snape's worst but he wasn't intimidated.

"It's not impossible!" he said and spat out the word. "All you need is brains!" Salazar shouted and once again tried to wriggle out of the magical bounds that kept him in the coffin. Harry watched him with an expressionless face.

"And I suppose you have got the brains?" he asked snidely.

"Of course!" Salazar said as if it was the stupidest thing ever to ask that.

"Well I think I know where I got my terrible temper from, and Voldemort too no doubt if what you say is true. Funny, I had always imagined you as Snape," he said.

Slyhterin snorted in distain. "Snape is an idiot!"

"You know Snape?" he asked surprised. How could Slyhterin know of Snape?

"I saw him in a vision, didn't I? A vision of mine seems like weeks to me even if it's only really a matter of a couple of minutes."

"So you know everyone in this time?" Harry asked curiously. Things just didn't seem to add up. He had visions too, coming from Voldemort but they took place at the normal time.

"Only the most important one's," Salazar admitted sourly.

Harry shook his head. "Fine then. Let's get you out of there no matter how much it amuses me to watch you squirm like a worm without actually getting anywhere," he said teasingly but without a smile. Instead he wore a smirk.

He bought what this person said only because it made sense to him and he had seen paintings of Salazar Slytherin and they really looked the same. He wasn't sure if he was making the stupidest mistake ever in history, but he decided to take a chance, be at risk, live dangerous and all that, wasn't that what muggles used to joke about? Besides, this couldn't be a joke because no one knew he'd be here.

Harry waved his hand and the magical ropes disappeared. Salazar sat up and stretched. Thankfully there were no popping sounds. Harry hated those. Harry watched the man intensely as Salazar ignored him and dusted of his black robe. Salazar must have charmed the robes not to fall apart by age. He was surprised the man could move at all after all this time, but perhaps it had something to do with the potion he had drank. It might have stimulated the body during all these years. That made him think, why had the man woken up at this exact time, how could he have known? The answer came to him immediately, he didn't even have to ask. Slyhterin must have viewed the date of their meeting in his vision, if such a things could actually occur.

"How come you had those powerful bindings on you? I mean, those who buried you must have thought you were dead for obvious reasons. What did they expect? That suddenly a leg or arm would brake loose from your body to come back to haunt them like the hand in the Adam's family?" he asked amused.

"No, no! Not far off, through. They knew I was good at dark arts, still are mind you, and they weren't too sure that I wouldn't come back and therefore this precaution," Salazar explained with a superior look when he obviously thought back at the stupid people that buried him.

"You're lucky I was here. You wouldn't have gotten out by yourself," Harry saw it fit to point out. Salazar didn't respond to that. He probably didn't want to admit that there were times when even he needed some help. But Harry didn't care whether he got an admittance or not, what matters were that he knew the truth himself.

Salazar looked around.

"So this is where they stuffed me. I expected them to do at least a bit better. I know they weren't overly found of me but this is ridiculous! I was a great wizard, I deserve better!" Salazar said offended. Harry shrugged as the man threw a fit. At least the man has no problem of thinking to low of himself, he thought with humor. Then he charmed the coffin to stand up against the wall in the right corner as he tired to ignore Slytherins whining about his burial.

"At least it was stone they put me in. I don't even want to imagine what it would be like to wake up in a rotting tree box," Salazar continued. Harry couldn't help but crack a smile. Slytherin was the perfect entertainer; he suited his tastes for dark and ironic humor.

"Yes, you're right, and this stone coffin goes well with my decorations."

Salazar looked at him funny.

"Yeah, what about that? You go on and on about your bloody decorations. What are you? A grave decorator?" Slytherin asked him.

"No!" Harry said and glared.

"Then what the hell are you doing?" Salazar said with true curiosity.

"This is my new home," he said heatedly and looked at him as to dare him to say something mean about it. Salazar stared at him.

"What, you didn't know that already?" Harry said mockingly when Salazar just looked at him.

"Yes I did know, but I never thought this was the one." Slytherin looked around him again with a frown.

"Surprise, surprise, this is it," he said humorlessly. "I wonder how people will take it when they hear about your rise from the dead. Besides, don't you know how things will turn out? Can you tell me about the future?" Harry asked and changed the subject. He had to admit he was curious and would try to get every bit of information he could out of the man.

"I was only shown information about people's history and I am also aware of my task a hand but I do not know how to accomplish it or what will happen in the future," Salazar told him. "And no one is to know of my return yet," Salazar added darkly.

Harry sighed and began to transfigure small rocks into furniture. His magic was so advanced that the transfigured stuff wouldn't change back on their own accord after a while. The two of them soon stood in a clean and practical crypt but he had still managed to maintain the spookiness and the style of the place. Slytherin hadn't lifted a finger to help him. He had simply sat down in a chair and watched him do all the hard work.

"Impressive," said Salazar appraisingly.

"You like it?" Harry asked with a grin. He was very pleased himself. He really digged the black silk bed. It was a real masterpiece with a dark silver headboard in a gothic pattern.

"Of course I do. You've inherited your style from me. Tom, the poor fuck, does actually have sense of style but he can't establish it on his own no matter what."

"So he can appreciate it but not make it." Harry summoned in his own version.

"Indeed," said Salazar.

Harry threw himself down on the bed. He might seem relaxed but he wasn't. He didn't trust Slytherin yet.

"So where will I be crashing?" Salazar asked and looked around expectantly.

"You? Crashing in here? I don't bloody well think so!" Harry said aghast and sat up quickly. For all he knew Slytherin might kill him in his sleep.

Slytherin crossed his arms and looked at him defiantly. "Why? I was here first you know."

"And he just wouldn't listen!" Harry exclaimed out in the room with his arms up in the air. "You don't get it do you? I do not know you and therefore you will be sleeping elsewhere. I don't give a damn where!" Harry said to him and in his eyes there were a fire burning. Salazar's eyes matched his. He whirled around dramatically.

"You don't trust me," he stated.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"What did you expect?" he cried.

He didn't like it when Salazar suddenly turned around and was closing in on him.

"We're family," Salazar said and emphasized the word.

"That hasn't been a problem for people to betray, kill and backstab throughout the ages," Harry snapped. Salazar shook his head.

"That's the thing with Slytherins through. We've always stayed together as a family. Ever wondered about Hogwarts? Why every Slytherin is supporting each other like they do? They never sell each other out."

"Oh but they do!" Harry protested. "They spy on each other and blackmail each other for the sake of Voldemort!"

Slytherin's whole body language spoke of a heated argument when he agreed. "Yes! And what did I tell you? There has risen a conflict between the Slytherins that root in my heir Voldemort. You're in it too but you didn't cause it. That's why I'm here."

"To sort it all out?" Harry asked.

"Yes!" Salazar said. Harry could tell by the look in his eyes that he was dead serious. He also understood what Salazar wanted him to do, but he refused to do that. He decided it was time to end this little get together.

"Oh well, I wish you good luck, you have a hell of a job in front of you and now I really gotta go," he said quickly and ran to the door. The door was locked.

"Not so fast my friend. First we need to discuss your part."

Harry groaned. Here he had hoped for a nice, lonely, peaceful summer and look what happened!

Why does faith insist on fucking me over all the time? he thought sourly as he was forced to sit down once again and wait for Slytherin to tell him what he was supposed to do.