Jules: Ack! Thank you dear! I've corrected the minor mistakes. Mwah! IVE UPDATED BBY!

Tsukiyo69: Haha! I have yet to read a childish/stupid Godric! But don't worry; I will try to write him beautifully! XD

Secret Little Reader: YAY, -high five- please do stick around *W*

Ashmo21: Thank you dear!

HopeInHell: I know right! I adore this couple. I'm also addicted to Hermione x Tom Riddle. HAHA. I guess I like her with Slytherin boys ;3

Trinna: Thank you dear! I hope you'll enjoy this chappie.

xSiriuslyPadfoot: I know right! Someone should definitely try a SlytherinXOC! Maybe I will give it a try… someday. X3

A/N: Thank you all for the amazing feedback! I hope this chapter is also to your liking, please lend me your thoughts!

Rebirth

Chapter II

"Death and Rebirth is one of the most crucial parts of life, without one the other simply cannot exist!"

The rivers ran red. The stench of death and decay was everywhere. There was fear plastered all over the watching crowd faces. They watched on, stared at the lifeless eyes that stretched on for miles. Bodies lay festering in the heat with hungry birds now feasting upon them. His heart raced with thrill at all the spilled blood, at all the fighting, at all the suffering. He told himself that all of this had been necessary. Yes, this had been a worthy, noble cause to eradicate all those that dared wield a wand when they had no right to; - mudbloods.

Salazar Slytherin woke up.

For a moment, he just laid there in bed, letting the light drizzle pattering against the window calm down his still racing heart. This dream had been occurring for a while now. He knew that his obsession with the muggle-borns was increasing at an alarming rate. He could no longer hide the anger he felt. Those filthy children had no right to wander in his hallways.

The bed creaked softly as he suddenly rose up into a sitting position, the handmade bedspread slipping away from his muscular chest and down to his waist. With a slight groan, he ran a trembling hand through his dark hair. He proceeded to take a few deep breaths, trying desperately to get his heart to stop pounding so damn loud. After a few moments, he rose to his feet, made sure to grab his long dark green cloak and left the darkness of his room behind.

He let his feet carry him away to the one place he always went to when nightmares plagued his sleep. He slowed down his trek and stopped by the door. It seemed that someone else was having trouble with sleeping. Salazar leaned his shoulder against the door flame, crossed his arms and watched as his friend muttered quietly to himself. He was sitting by himself at one of the tables, poking at the glass before he downed its contents in one gulp.

Salazar frowned when Godric refilled the glass. His friend was never one to drink. Something must have really set him off to bring him down to this.

Godric suddenly swept the shot glass aside with one violent brush of his strong arm, not bothering to see if it had shattered on the floor or not. Salazar inhaled deeply and loomed out of the darkness, watching as Godric's mouth dropped open.

"Godric?" Salazar asked, breaking awkward silence, "Is everything alright?"

Godric snorted, "Salazar, my friend," he said, voice slightly slurred, "Coming from anyone else, that question could be called innocent, but since it's coming from you…"

"Then it's either malicious or senseless in nature," Salazar finished.

"Anyway," Godric continued hastily, "The woman has woken up."

Woman. The moment Godric mentioned that woman; Salazar's mind seemed to freeze. She had woken up and no one had bothered to tell him? His expression hardened and his lips stretched into a stern thin line. He said nothing, waiting for Godric to carry on.

Godric gave Salazar a strange look as if trying to figure out what his friend thoughts were, "She's not well, my friend," he said quietly and he could see the impatience on Salazar's face.

Salazar's brows drew together and he folded his arms across his chest, "Could you please elaborate?"

"The curse she has been hit with…" he paused briefly, "Helga cannot heal it. It's slowly killing her."

Salazar's eyes locked onto his and his voice suddenly become cold, "What do you mean Helga cannot heal it?" he snapped. The little wench just couldn't die. He had questions for her, questions that only she held the answers for.

"I am sorry Salazar." His friend said and it sounded completely genuine, "Your father, he would be able to help her. He has studied the dark arts his entire life… but we would never get there in time." Godric resumed his walk back to the stairs, disappearing up them and leaving Salazar alone in the darkness.

Your father, he would be able to help her.

But we would never get there in time.

He quickly whirled around and hurried towards the hospital wing. The thought of going home did not scare him but it was a very unpleasant one. His father had not been an avid supporter of his choice of leaving to build a school for young wizard and witches. And now that word spread about muggle-borns being allowed in, he was sure that his father no longer considered him to be his son.

With a slight push, he opened the door.

He saw her then, her skin was incredibly pale and her lips had the unnatural colour of blue. Her eyes were bloodshot red and she was looking straight at him but it was obvious by the relief expression that took over her young features that it was not him that she was really seeing.

"Harry?" she asked, her lips stretched into a smile.

I must be really out of my mind, he thought as he offered her a small smile, "Yes. It's me." He lied as he carefully moved her into his arms. He could feel her body shiver against him as she attempted to wrap her weak arms around him, "Let's go home." He whispered and was surprised when she let out a sob against his shoulder.

"T-thank God…" she whispered, "T-thank God."

He readjusted her in his arms and looked down at her. Just what had happened to her? Who was this Harry? He thought that perhaps it was her lover, that somehow the two of them got separated as they ran away from only Merlin knows what. What or who could be possibly want from such a weak young woman? He took a deep breath and walked away, carrying her all the way to the dungeons. She weighted nothing and he noted that she was incredibly thin. How long had she been on the run? Perhaps the curse she had been hit with was also contributing to this weak, miserably state of hers.

Kicking the door to his room open, Salazar carefully placed her down. She called for Harry's name again but he ignored her.

Where is it?

Salazar looked around the room trying to figure out where he had hidden that blasted thing. Then feeling slightly idiotic, he withdrew his wand and called for the object he was fervently looking for. The bottom drawer of his wardrobe abruptly opened and the shining object flew right into his free hand. He closed his hand around it and took a deep breath. Slowly, he unclenched his fingers and looked down at his heirloom and then at the young witch lying in his bed.

The memory of her reaction upon hearing his name was enough to make him decide that he was doing the right thing. He approached her and found her unsettling dark-brown eyes looking straight back at his. The world seemed to stop for a moment as her arm shot upwards and her hand closed around the familiar locket.

"Impossible…" she whispered before her arm fell limp and she lost consciousness.

If the moment when he first met her at the forest made him curious about her now his interest only intensified tenfold. Drawing his eyebrows together he held her limp body against hers. Then, as he opened his mouth to speak, a hissing sound came out and the locket flashed a bright green light surrounding them both.

"You come back home with this?"

"She is important father."

"She certainly is not important to me." Salazar's father spat as he took another look at the young witch lying on the bed. He could feel the dark magic within her and he found it compelling; as a scholar he would love to learn more about whatever was afflicting her but he didn't want to attend to his son request. He had heard of the filth that he let in that school of his and he wanted nothing to do with it or with him.

Salazar frowned and took the locket out; shoving it in his father's wrinkled hands.

"She recognized it." Salazar started, not being one to give in so easily. He spotted the sudden interest in his father's stubborn features and continued. "She recognized my name as well though I have never met her in my entire life. She knows our family."

Nicholas Salazar glared at his own son, "Who hasn't heard of our family?" he asked, eyeing Salazar with palpable disappointment written all over his face, "especially now…" he said, gritting his teeth, "now that everyone is aware of how my son allows mudbloods in his school."

Salazar clenched his jaw and he looked away, his eyes settling down on the woman who was now looking back at him – completely awake. Had she been conscious the entire time? He drew his brows together and half glared at her.

Hermione winced as she slowly sat up and looked up at both men who were completely paralyzed simply looking back at her. She took several deep breaths, feeling extremely weak and as though she was about to faint again anytime soon. She shook her head and tried to makes sense of what was happening. She was muttering, murmuring to herself and shaking her head while stealing glances at Salazar. She closed her eyes and then looked at the older man, clearly unable to process what she was seeing and what she had just heard.

"Ah, Lady Granger." Salazar spoke at last breaking her from her denial state. He remembered her name.

"Salazar Slytherin?" she asked, wincing as it hurt to speak. Her entire body seemed to be on fire and every muscle ached whenever she attempted to move. No. This was not a hallucination. She could not get a grip on this. Her mind was whirling as the logic part of her brain refused to accept what every other part of it was screaming at it.

"Yes, milady." He spoke, "This is my father. He can heal whatever is afflicting you."

Hermione nodded numbly, a tear now tracing a line down her face. She was barely maintaining a grip on her sanity.

Nicholas Salazar scowled but he nodded at the young woman, "Yes. I may be able to heal you," then he turned to look at his son, "on one condition."

Salazar's gaze met his father's and he knew that there was no way he could get away without giving him whatever he wanted.

"Well? What is it?"

"We will discuss it when the right time comes."

Hermione didn't remember much about the time she was ill with the dark curse she had been hit with. In fact, she didn't even realize that she had been hit with a curse as she ran from the snatchers. She never thought them to able to cast such a powerful curse in the first place. Three whole weeks had passed since she last saw Salazar. The last time, it was when she had witnessed the exchange between him and his father.

At first it had been hard. She not only had to fight against the dark curse but she had to accept her situation. She didn't know how or why but she was several hundred years in the past. The first days had been the hardest. She had been in shock. She thought that she had to be crazy. But this place and these people were very much real. When questioned by Lord Slytherin, she had lied. She told Nicholas Salazar that she didn't remember much of her past. She couldn't just blurt out that she was from the future, now could she? Even though the old man had ceased his questioning, she knew that he was aware that she was not being honest.

She was told that she was a guest but that did not sit well with her. She just couldn't sit in her room all day doing absolutely nothing. Miriam, one of the many servants had informed her that Salazar Slytherin would be returning soon and that gave Hermione hope that somehow she would be able to return to Hogwarts with him. She didn't know much about the current Salazar, but certainly he was not all evil like the stories she had heard before. He had come home begging to have her healed. She knew that he probably had an ulterior motive but she was grateful nevertheless. If he wished to use her, she could use him right back. She needed to go back home.

"We never use the front door. That is only for the Lords and their guests. Come round the side, right through the garden," Miriam explained as Hermione followed closely.

"Do you work here?" Hermione inquired.

Miriam shook her head and offered her a kind smile, "No but I have worked with Ingrid before. She can be tough sometimes, but she is a fair woman, she'll treat you well, you'll see."

Inside the back door was the kitchen. Hermione's eyes widened at how busy it was. She spotted two women cooking and another two peeling off potatoes near a kitchen fire.

Hermione adjusted fairly quickly to the job. She had been given a wand; at first she had been horrified to find that its previous owner had passed away but then again, having a wand it was better than not having any. She would have to ask for her wand back when Salazar returned. If he ever returns, she thought bitterly. Her main duties were making beds, collecting laundry and helping out in the kitchen. For the next two weeks she worked in peace. She befriended her fellow servants, including the other three maids she shared her room with.

One day, Hermione sat with Eowa; both ate in silence, taking comfort in the loud busy kitchen. Suddenly, the noise seemed to slowly subdue until the room was in completely silence.

"My Lord… Salazar, uh… please welcome."

Everyone froze. Hermione looked over her shoulder and looked at the tall man whose back was turned on her. She could see the obvious shock on Ingrid's face as no nobleman ever set foot in the servants area.

"I am looking for someone. A young woman by the name of Hermione Granger."