Author's Note: Thanks to my lovely new team. Love y'all, ladies.

Written for...

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Team/Position: Holyhead Harpies, Seeker. Task: Dynamic Timeline (every action in the past affects the future)

Hunger Games III. Prompts: Molly Weasley (II, approved by Sam), fear, "Are you going to kill me?"

Consequences

2,073 words

The first time she visited him was an accident. James had assured her that there was a shortcut on the fourth floor, behind one of the numerous statues, though at the time he couldn't recall which one. The shortcut would have saved Molly twenty minutes in the morning, but she never did find it.

Everything had seemed normal at first, she entered one darkly lit corridor and exited another. It was only once she reached the classroom that she realized things had changed. The students filling the seats wore plain black robes with a small green emblem on their chest to denote their house. They stared at her in shock as she hung in the doorway with her blue and bronze tie, and Molly quickly realized that she didn't recognize any of the students.

"What do you think you're doing?" the professor demanded, blocking her view of the room. He was several inches taller than Molly but she guessed he was only a couple of years older. Too young to be a professor, at least. She swore she'd never seen him before either.

"My timetable said that my class was-"

"This is my class. Ravenclaw's class is on the sixth floor."

Molly pursed her lips, angered by the snickers of the Slytherin students. Since when did the houses have private lessons?

She was about to demand to know who the professor was when he slammed the door in her face.

Worried about being late for her class, Molly decided to take up the professor's behavior with her head of house later in the evening and rushed back through the hidden passage for the stairs, only to find the sixth floor empty.

:-:

Molly quickly came to the conclusion that she had hallucinated the whole event. There was no other explanation for speaking to a professor that everyone assured her was not there, and walking into a classroom of people she'd never seen. Perhaps James had laced that passageway with a hallucinogenic powder as a prank.

The incident was forgotten until later in the month, when Molly used the passageway again, already late for a study session, and nearly walked right into the mysterious professor on the other side.

"You again," he snarled, taking a step back. "How did you get into the castle?"

"I should ask you the same thing." She crossed her arms, making sure that her Head Girl badge was on clear display. "Everyone thinks I imagined you. What are you doing here?"

The man scoffed. "I work here, girl. What is your name? I described you to Rowena but she has failed to recognize you."

Molly narrowed her eyes at the man, trying to figure out the game he was playing. He didn't honestly believe he could fool her with such foolish stories, did he? There was only one Rowena he could be referring to, acting like he owned the school.

"Don't tell me you're Salazar Slytherin," she said dubiously. He looked nothing like the portraits she'd seen of the founder, which depicted him when he was old.

"I am indeed. And as the one and only Salazar Slytherin, I demand to know your name and purpose for appearing to me twice in one day. Are you some sort of spirit?"

Molly paled, her blood running cold with fear. "No. I … My name is Molly. What do you mean, twice in one day? The last time I saw you was weeks ago."

"It was midday. I'll thank you not to doubt me again. I don't take kindly to being presumed mad and Rowena has suggested such a thing twice today already."

"Something is horribly wrong," Molly murmured, turning back to the passageway. "I'm not from this time. This corridor must connect our times somehow."

Salazar studied her silently for several long moments before nodding once. "Very well," he said, pulling his wand from the folds of his dark robes.

"You believe me?" She had expected to have to provide proof somehow.

"I trust you not to fool me, girl, or else you know punishment will be severe. And I am hard pressed to think of a better explanation for your appearance. Surely no lowly Muggle could penetrate the walls of Hogwarts." Molly frowned, forcing herself not to react to his comment. Salazar approached the passage cautiously, holding his wand out and muttering a few words under his breath. "An interesting occurrence. Very rare. Strange that it should happen here."

"Are you able to fix it? Close the hole?"

"Perhaps, though I imagine you would wish to be on the other end when I attempt it."

"Yes, of course." She hurried passed him, pausing just before she stepped through. "Thank you for not thinking I was crazy."

The corners of Salazar's mouth turned up in the ghost of a smile but he said nothing, and Molly turned and left his time.

:-:

It was two months before Molly tried the passage again. If three weeks in her time was one day in his, then she deduced that at least three days should have passed in Salazar's time by now. And surely someone as skilled as a founder would have found a way to close the wormhole by now, leave the passageway clear for her to go to her classes…

Molly sighed as she found herself in the past once more.

She could have returned to her time right away. Logically she knew it was the best thing to do. Hadn't she been warned time and time again the dangers of time travel? And yet she couldn't help herself now that she knew she was in the past. A little exploring couldn't hurt anything.

The castle was dark. Molly guessed that it was the middle of the night, perfect for looking around, but she didn't get far. A door at the end of the corridor was open, candlelight lighting her path, and there sat Salazar scribbling in a journal.

He looked up as she approached, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"I didn't expect you to return."

"I didn't mean to. I thought you would have had the passage sealed or fixed." She sat across from his desk and glanced around the room, quickly realizing that it was his office. "Why aren't you in the dungeons?"

"Do you mean to imply that I belong below the earth like a worm, girl? Is this how you speak to your professors?"

Molly smirked. "In my day, the Head of Slytherin stays in the dungeons with their students."

"Odd," Salazar murmured, marking something in his journal. "Currently our dungeons are empty. My students' quarters are on the third floor. Tell me about your time, Molly."

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir. I should probably go back home."

"At least tell me your name. Please."

"I already did…"

"But not your surname. I am a curious man, Molly. You remind me of Rowena in many ways, though considerably less infuriating. Tell me, are you her descendant?"

"No. I'm a Weasley."

Salazar leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "I don't recall having heard that name before."

Molly nodded. "There's a chance—I mean, there are family stories, that the name was a Muggle one." Salazar straightened quickly, and Molly averted her eyes. "My father is more or less a pureblood, if you're about to ask."

"And your mother?"

"Muggle-born."

Salazar pursed is lips and Molly waited for the comments to come. She was familiar with many of them, often catching glimpses of the hateful letters sent to her mother.

"You don't like me, do you?"

Molly shrugged. "You have your opinions and I have mine."

"Are my views so well known in your time?"

She scoffed. Did she dare to explain to him the affects his views had on Britain? On Hogwarts? She'd sat through enough History lessons to understand the impact Salazar Slytherin had on her family alone.

"They changed everything, and caused so much pain," she said honestly, meeting his eyes again. "The people who follow your way of thinking have done horrible things, and so many people have been caught in the crossfire. My mother was blinded and will never get to be the healer she dreamt of becoming. My uncle, a pureblood, was killed when he was twenty-years-old for standing up against them. This is what your hatred has done, Professor."

Salazar nodded slowly. "Are you going to kill me? Is that why you've come back?"

"No," she said forcefully, horrified at the thought. "I could never. But I just… I don't understand. And I wanted you to know, I suppose. Your actions have consequences, and they're not good for anyone."

Salazar closed the journal in front of him and ran a hand through his dark hair. "You've given me much to think on, Miss Weasley. Will you return again?"

"I don't know. Will you allow me to return, knowing my lineage?"

"I don't believe I could stop you, Miss. But I think I shall retire now and bid you a good evening." He stood, collecting his journal, and bowed his head as he passed her chair. He paused in the doorway and turned back for a brief moment. "I am sorry, Miss, for your family's hardships." And then he was lost to the darkness of the corridor.

Molly lingered for a moment longer, not eager to share a hall with him. When she guessed enough time had passed for the path to clear, she blew out the candles and returned to the passageway, to her time.

It was late in her time as well, and she hurried to her own bed, exhausted by the conversation and frustrated that there was nothing more she could do, and no one she could talk to about what she'd experienced.

It was in the morning that she saw the changes.

The Great Hall, though still sporting four long tables for students, seemed completely different than how she had left it at dinner the previous night, as students gathered at whichever table they pleased, no longer ruled by the color of their robes.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," James said, coming up beside her.

"This is madness," she murmured. She looked up at the head table to see her previously reserved Herbology professor chatting animatedly with the Head of Slytherin.

"It's always a little chaotic in the morning," James said with a shrug. "Come on, I think Georgia's looking for you. Something about a Transfiguration paper you were helping her with."

Molly remained by the wall, in a daze as she watched James trot off to sit next to a tall red-haired girl who looked so much like the pictures Molly had seen of her aunt Ginny as a teen that she did a double-take. Suddenly hazy memories came to her mind of a small girl with red hair and freckles coming over to play dolls with her, and the memories kept flooding her mind. Uncle Fred and Aunt Verity inserted into every family gathering, and their Georgia of course.

In the flood, she managed to latch onto the image of her mother, no longer with her enchanted walking stick or the glassy look in her eyes, wearing Healer robes.

"Morning, Mol."

Molly was startled from her memories by a Slytherin boy, Gavin King, nudging her shoulder. She recognized him from before—one of the few who still shouted slurs in the hallways. Now he was smiling and wrapping his arm around her shoulders to lead her to a table. A Head Boy badge was pinned to his robes where it definitely hadn't been before.

"Sorry I missed our study session last night," Gavin said, filling both of their plates with waffles. "I fell asleep. Did you manage to find out Slytherin's motivation?"

"What?" she asked dumbly, still too confused with the changes to pay attention.

"For your History essay on Salazar Slytherin? You said you wanted to figure out his motivation for changing his beliefs on Muggle-born students. Did you find anything in the library?"

"Uh, maybe."

Gavin dug into his breakfast, but Molly wasn't hungry. She stared in amazement out over the hall, a smile spreading on her face as she took in the changes she had accidentally brought upon the world.

She wondered about Salazar Slytherin, and the passageway, and whether it was still open. She would check it later that night if she got the chance. She needed to thank him.