Hahaha, well, I'm not dead, obviously. Nice to see you all again! scratches back of head This idea popped into my head a little while ago (and I promise to update more than once a year, heh), and has been nagging me ever since. I don't really know where I'm going with this, probably following the books mostly through third and fourth year, and then diverging more and more once we reach fifth and above (if I can even write that much ). Ah well, we'll see where this goes, eh? :D Enjoy.
May 29, 993AD, Undisclosed Location in Scotland
Bright emerald green eyes darted about under dirty blond fringe, examining his opponent with a calculating look. This part of the castle, his part of the castle, was the easiest place for him to maneuver about. He'd helped them build this castle, he'd been the one to lay the groundwork, and without him, the others would have nothing. Nothing! As the man he once called a friend, a comrade in arms, approached him, jeweled sword held high, Salazar spat at him.
"This is how you treat friends, eh, Godric?" he demanded, green eyes narrowed at the olive complected man, "By bigotry, ignorance, and deceit? I laid the foundations for Hogwarts! And now- now that my use to the three of you is no longer satisfactory, you would cast me aside like a wounded steed?" He was backed against a wall, and Godric hesitated, and that was all the time Salazar needed. He turned to the serpentine figure etched into the wall behind him. "Open!" he ordered with a hiss, the parseltongue slipping out of his mouth like a lovers caress. Godric started in surprise behind him.
"Get back here you bastard!" Salazar heard the warrior roar, but it was too late. The wall had opened up a hole barely big enough for the slim man to slip through, leaving the bulkier fighter unable to come through before the wall closed again. "Damn it!" Godric swore as he kicked the now closed off wall.
Salazar slumped against the wall opposite of his once friend. This feud was ridiculous, and was truly more of a misunderstanding than anything else. But it was getting out of hand and dangerous, and the young man cast a worried thought to his newborn son Sebastian, and lovely wife Elizabeth. This entire scenario had started out a few days ago, when Salazar had left to do recruitment for the new Hogwarts school he, Godric, Helga, and Rowena had built. They already had a few students enrolled, as the school had been open for three years already. With roughly fifty students ages eleven to seventeen, he and the three other founders left for the summer in order to gather new pupils. Classes ended at the beginning of May, leaving the students to return home to help with their estates or family business. Sometimes there were more important things than education, such as surviving, and they had actually lost a few students to family affairs already.
Having gotten three new students himself, it had been a routine job for him to approach many of the unapprenticed magical youngsters to join. He preferred going to an established wizarding family, because they were easier to convince than the superstitious nonmagical residents of the country. A few days ago while on his travels, he had felt a surge of magic, often associated with the accidental magic of a growing witch or wizard, and had investigated. Upon reaching the source of the magic, the young Salazar Slytherin found a little witch, probably thirteen or so with bruises covering her face, backed up
against a wall, cornered by a man probably four times her age and thrice as big. When the man raised his hand to strike her again
Enraged by the sight of a man so obviously injuring a girl of his kind, Salazar attacked the man, the small dagger in his belt easily puncturing the thin skin of the man's belly. There was a shriek from behind him, and Salazar didn't even have time to react as the girl's accidental magic assaulted him and knocked him down. Head hitting the brick cobbled street with a sickening thud, Salazar had slipped into unconsciousness.
When he'd awoken, it had been an entire day later, and it had been to the face of his sweet friend Helga. She'd healed him, although apparently under duress, which had confused him at the time, but he thanked her and left the healing wing of Hogwarts, headed down to the cellars. He'd been coming down a flight of stairs when Rowena first confronted him.
"Salazar," the intelligent witch greeted, and the blond young man gave her a grin. "Greetings, Madam Ravenclaw," he said airily. While Rowena was quite the smart girl, Salazar was cunning enough occasionally to talk circles around her, which oftimes made her irritated and flustered. It was quite fun, at least for Slytherin.
"Slytherin," she said, this time her words held more bite, and Salazar's green eyes narrowed in confusion. Why on earth was she angry? "Is it true that you have killed a man, Salazar? One of the nonmagical men that you despise so much?" she spat out bitterly, and the young man was visibly surprised. Had he been wrong to save that girl? Suddenly he didn't feel like playing with Rowena anymore. "Well, yes, Rowena. Why? Is something the matter?" he captured her own blue eyed gaze with his green one, utter curiousity emanating from his figure. Surely that vile man was not important? Rowena gave him a furious shriek before storming off up the stairs, leaving a bewildered man in her wake. "Okay?" the blond founder said, uncertainty plaguing his voice.
It wasn't until the next day that Salazar learned that he was in any sort of danger. It was still summer, so with no students to worry about, the young man was sitting lazily on his bed, his beautiful green python familiar curled up next to him for heat. His hands were in the air, eyes closed as he checked and updated the wards around the castle. They all looked good, but the protective ones were sagging a bit, so he added a bit of his own magic to strengthen them. Inspecting them once again, he smiled to himself in satisfaction as he opened his eyes. He loved Hogwarts. It was his utter pride and joy, second only to his new baby son, .
After a few moments of silence, a loud incessant knocking came from his door, and Salazar sighed in irritation. 'Ugh,' he thought, 'Godric again.' It wasn't that Salazar minded Gryffindor so much, it was just that the man was so arrogant, always bragging on his superior fighting and magical skills. Shame the man could actually back up his words, or else Slytherin would have probably beaten the man severely, with a stick, ages ago just because he irritated him so much.
Figured Godric was also his only real friend.
The knocking had yet to desist, so Salazar heaved another sigh and went dropped off his bed, truding toward his door. Blond fringe hanging over his eyes, he squinted up at the taller man. "What?" he asked irritably to the dark haired and tanned man. "Salazar, friend," Godric said, looking down at the young man with a serious expression. Slightly surprised for the second time in two days, Salazar tilted his head and opened his door, inviting the other inside.
"Not to be rude, Godric," but he lied, he did mean to be, "But what, may I ask, are you doing in my quarters?" He settled down on one of the chairs in his room, gesturing towards one of the others for Godric to sit. The large warrior sat, removing the ever present sword from his side to rest upon his lap. "I am here," Gryffindor began, "to verify a rumor I have heard recently." Salazar tilted his head to the side and heaved an irritated sigh, "My word. Is this honestly about that filthy man I killed a few days ago? Truly, the world is better off without that swine." Salazar gave a sniff, looking off to the side with his nose upturned.
He didn't notice the angry look Godric look sent him. "If that is the way you feel, Slytherin, then I would challenge you to a battle to the death for the restored honor of the man you murdered." Hold up. What? Salazar's mind reeled as Godric stood, hefting his sword in his hand. All he could do was gape at the man he had called friend this very morning strode towards him. "Get your daggers," Gryffindor ordered, for he was no longer Godric to Salazar. Friends didn't betray, and that was exactly what the warrior was doing. "I will not face an unarmed opponent. It is dishonorable."
Salazar wanted to laugh in his face.
"So? Turning on me? I guess I see the kind of friend you turned out to be, Gryffindor," the blond haired man grated through clenched teeth as he retrieved swiftly retrieved his daggers from his belt. Turning to his familiar, the green python Ouroboros that lay on his bed, watching the scene warily, he hissed out, "Hide yourself." Turning his attention had cost him though, as Gryffindor lunged as soon as he addressed Ouroboros. His instincts were the only thing that saved him, and Salazar tittered backwards, avoiding the strike of Gryffindor's sword. He fell, landing heavily on his backside, and on of his daggers clanged loudly as it spun across the floor, the other still held tightly in his hand. If only he could- yes. Salazar nearly hissed in surprise as he pushed himself backwards until his back hit the stone wall.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the snake imprint on the wall next to him. Turning back to Gryffindor, he spat at him. "This is how you treat friends, eh, Godric?" he demanded, green eyes narrowed at the olive complected man, "By bigotry, ignorance, and deceit? I laid the foundations for Hogwarts! And now- now that my use to the three of you is no longer satisfactory, you would cast me aside like a wounded steed?" He was backed against a wall, and Godric hesitated, and that was all the time Salazar needed. He turned to the serpentine figure etched into the wall behind him. "Open!" he ordered with a hiss, the parseltongue slipping out of his mouth like a lovers caress. Godric started in surprise behind him.
"Get back here you bastard!" Salazar heard the warrior roar, but it was too late. The wall had opened up a hole barely big enough for the slim man to slip through, leaving the bulkier fighter unable to come through before the wall closed again. "Damn it!" Godric swore as he kicked the now closed off wall. He'd
still wasn't quite sure what this whole problem was about, but he figured it definitely had something to do with the man he'd killed in London.
So, now that everything was back on track, Salazar was at a loss for what to do. Standing up, he brushed his robes off before lamenting the loss of his dagger. He wasn't going back to his room anytime soon, Godric would probably trap it just in case. The young Slytherin's gaze darkened. Gryffindor would never just attack him like that, and because he had, Salazar knew it hadn't been that brash man's original idea. It had probably been suggested to him, the warrior agreeing probably at the drop of a hat. After all, honor was incredibly important to him, more so than his own life. 'Fool,' Salazar thought. As if anything could be more important than one's own life. Turning down a dark passage, Salazar hissed out in Parseltongue, "Brighten." Torches flared to life alongside the walls as he walked, headed towards his own grand chamber. He had built it secretly, under the stream that flowed from the forest into a small pond on the grounds.
He strode into his chamber, ignoring the grand and ornate snakes lining the walls and forming elegant archways. The room was large and exquisite, furnished exclusively in green and silver (his own favorite colors) complete with furniture and heated stones for his familiar to lay. Walking over to one of his bookshelves, he browsed until he found the book he'd been searching for. Simply entitled Connaissances, the French word for Knowledge, Salazar plucked the book from the shelf and settled down in a comfortable chair before leafing through the book for the spell he was looking for. The book was written in French, but it didn't faze the young man as he had been raised a noble, and been properly educated in the formal courts. French was but one of the languages he'd been taught as a child, and he had no difficulties reading the language in front of him.
Finally finding the spell he had been searching for, he gave a small smirk. It was a stasis spell, designed to put the user in a coma-like state. Salazar knew he couldn't live down here for a week, especially as his wand was still in his room, leaving conjuration out of the picture. However, the stasis spell was rune magic, requiring no wand at all. The young man figured he could cast the spell, stay in stasis for a week or so, then return once Godric had cooled down and forgotten about this so-called fight to the death.
Humming to himself, Salazar strode over to one of the massive snake statues decorating his chamber. 'A good spot as any,' he thought to himself, bringing a small piece of coal from his pocket. Stripping himself of his garments, Salazar quickly drew on the precise ruins he needed. However, in his haste, he failed to notice an error, one single, small, significant error. Next to the rune Ingwaz, positioned Merkstave, to mean Movement Without Change, the main rune needed for powering the ritual, one single rune etching was wrong. Dagaz, the Dawn Rune, was not supposed to be there, and in placing it directly next to Ingwaz Merkstave, Dagaz activated.
And so Salazar Slytherin, one of the Founding Four, would not awaken for one thousand years, until he was at a balancing point, at a time and place where opposites would meet.
AN- I would like to point out, that this is just the prologue, which is why it's so short. Expect normal chapters to be two or three times this size.
Sneak Peak:
"Who… who are you!?" the twelve year old squawked indignantly as green eyes strikingly similar to his own stared down at him. The naked man tilted his head to the side as the younger boy flushed at the other's lack of modesty. "Why, my name is Salazar. Salazar Slytherin. Who on Earth are you, boy, and how did you get into my chamber?" was the demanding reply, and Harry's mouth dropped open in stark surprise.