Chapter 2

He was bored. There were no quidditch practices today, and the next tournament was still next month. On days like these, he would often go to the library. He had to admit, he hadn't done that for the last few centuries. Not being able to open a book or flip through pages tends to put a damper on one's enjoyment.

This time was different, however. No, it's not that he suddenly regained his ability to grab things and flip through books.

He simply found someone who could.

The Granger girl.

He no longer cared that she was muggleborn. She was useful, not to mention brilliant. She was a lot like Rowena, actually. He wondered why this Granger girl had been sorted into Godric's house instead. Although, considering some of the trouble she and her two boys had gotten themselves into, he was starting to see why.

Nevertheless, he had to admit, he hadn't seen a girl like her in centuries.

Which was why he was taking full advantage of her time here.

He had never seen a girl with such a thirst for knowledge. She was a voracious reader, that one. He had lost count of the number of books she'd read. And some of those books weren't even necessarily related to her classes.

And he had read every single one of them along with her. He hated the fact that he couldn't choose what to read, but at least he could read now, and finish what he read, too. Not many students in Hogwarts even bothered to read a book from cover to cover. This was why he decided to read along with Granger, instead.

Of course, tailing after a girl also meant that he would be privy to all of her teenage angst. Fortunately for him, the girl didn't have much of those. She wasn't one of those regular, simpering, make-up and fashion loving girls. Her problems hadn't been the normal ones that most girls her age have.

Not by a long shot.

He was there when she and her friends were running from the giant-three headed dog. He was there when she brewed the polyjuice in her second year (though admittedly, after her unfortunate accident, he had to leave her and follow the two boys instead, lest he miss some good tidbits of information). He was there when she faced her werewolf teacher. He had lost trail of her sometime the dementor attacks, although he heard something about Sirius Black escaping. He had no doubt that she and the Potter boy were involved in that one as well.

And then there was the fourth year. Now that was an eventful year. He hadn't had that much entertainment in centuries. Admittedly, his time had been somewhat divided between her and the Potter boy. Naturally, the boy intrigued him as well. No one got into more trouble than that boy. And the boy didn't even have to try. Trouble seemed to find him, no matter where he went. He almost felt sorry for the boy. Almost.

And then came fifth year. And that's when the teenage angst finally began. He usually left whenever she and the Weasley boy started their usual arguments. He had no interest in those things, anyway. But he knew Hermione well enough that she would eventually return to her books.

Especially her Hogwarts, a History book.

He smiled. If only she knew that the very person whose life she was reading about had been standing next to her this whole time.

She must have read the book so many times, even he started to memorize some of its paragraphs.

Then came the sixth year. It had started more calmly than the previous years. But, knowing what had happened the past five years, he knew that something was bound to turn up sooner or later. It had been that way since the Potter boy came to school, and Salazar had gotten used to it. He even started to look forward to it. He hadn't had this much entertainment in centuries (not that he was particularly overjoyed when he learned of Cedric's death). Admittedly, it was a rather sordid way to pass the time. Then again, what else was he supposed to do around here?

But he never expected murder to occur on his castle. And by a trusted teacher, no less! It was worse than when the Chamber had first been opened more than fifty years ago. Because this time, it was the Headmaster who was murdered, and not some inexperienced student of questionable defense skills.

Salazar sighed. That had been months ago. He heard rumors that the school would be closed, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed. This was the castle that he, Godric, Rowena, and Helga had built together. This was their legacy.

This was also his only remaining link to the three friends whom he would never see again.

Thankfully, the school remained open, though he wasn't exactly sure what happened during summer that caused the Ministry to let the school continue to run. Nevertheless, he was grateful.

He looked around for signs of Hermione. Sure enough, there she was in the corner, reading. He strode towards her and peered over her shoulder to read what she was reading. It was her Advanced Transfiguration book. Somewhere in the back of his non-corporeal memory, Salazar recalled McGonagall giving her seventh years an assignment, in preparation for becoming an animagi.

He had to admit, she had grown up nicely over the years. Her bushy mane had tamed into wide brown curls. And her body, well... he'd rather not think about it, lest he find himself harboring inappropriate thoughts about her.

Suddenly, she frowned, and looked over her shoulder.

Salazar stepped back. She had seen him? Impossible! No one could see him!

Hermione was looking around, as though she had felt something and was trying to find out who had interrupted her. She frowned in confusion, then shook her head and resumed her reading.

Salazar sighed in relief. She hadn't seen him!

Still, it was the first time anyone had even had such a reaction. Even Peeves never noticed his presence, and that particular poltergeist had a penchant for noticing people... although usually for less-than-chivalrous reasons.

Would it be so bad if she did?

It had been so long since he had human company.

True, he had spent a lot of time with Hermione. But watching was not the same as conversing with someone. And oh, how he longed to be able to hold a conversation again. Any conversation would do.

Suddenly, he found himself wanting to test her reaction. He stood close to her again and peered over her shoulder.

Nothing happened.

Salazar sighed in disappointment. He should have known.

Perhaps she hadn't noticed him after all. Maybe she had heard something (though he was sure that the library had been quiet). Salazar stepped away. He couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Part of him wished she would notice him.

Suddenly, she looked up again and looked around in suspicion.

Salazar's eyes widened. So she had noticed! He leapt up. He couldn't help but feel somewhat elated. Could she see him? If he spoke, would she be able to hear him?

"Who's there?" She whispered as she looked around. "Harry? Is that you?" She swiveled around and started searching the air with her hand.

Her hand passed right through him.

Salazar frowned. She definitely noticed him, but she still couldn't see him, nor could she touch him. Would she be able to hear him if he spoke? He had to try.

He took a deep breath. He hadn't spoken in centuries. Hadn't needed to. He couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. How would she react if she heard him? Would she scream and run away?

He certainly hoped not.

"H..Hermione?" Salazar said in a whisper, as if he was testing his voice. It felt odd to speak after being silent for such a long time.

She did not react. She was still frowning and looking around.

Salazar tried again. Louder, this time. "Hermione!"

Hermione shrugged, then went back to her reading.

Salazar sighed in disappointment. He watched her for a minute. Somehow, he had lost interest in reading. Salazar hung his head low and leaned against a nearby wall. This was hopeless.

Still, she had felt something.

But it was not enough. He wanted her to be able to see him and hear him. He had gone without a proper company for so long, that the mere possibility of having another human being to speak to made his chest hurt with longing.

He stared at Hermione. She was the first, and only person who had ever showed even the slightest reaction to his presence. Perhaps there was hope yet, though he did not know what good it will do if all she could do was feel his presence from time to time. Still, this was progress.

He decided to follow her. Not just when she's in the library or when she's sneaking around trying to rescue someone, either. No, from this point on, Salazar Slytherin decided he wasn't going to let Hermione Granger out of his sight... well, except when she goes to the bathroom, that is. He may be in the 21st century, but that didn't mean he had to act like a 21st century, hormone-induced teenager.