For the Psychology class at Hogwarts. Task #1: Write about a character who does not act their age, even when they have to. Alternatively, write about a character who had to grow up too early.

Word Count: 659


something that I can't confess


Salazar Slytherin always knew he was different from his brothers and sisters. He might only be five years old, but wasn't dumb. He had weirdly good luck that bordered on the impossible more than occasionally.

He knew he was different and he knew that it would not end well for him if anyone ever found out. He had seen it happen to other people.

They would be burned at a stake. Accused of selling their soul to the devil.

Salazar had not done anything like that. He had had—dare he even think it—magic for as long as he could remember. No one else he knew could do similar things or if they could, they kept it secret.

Just like he did it himself. He had gotten quite good at using it only when he was alone—it was too useful not to use it at all—and pretending that anything else but magic was responsible. Any of his siblings or a kind stranger helping him with a task he had done too quickly, for example, was a common excuse he used.

Salazar planned to do the same thing today, but something crossed his plans.

It was a small garden snake.

Now, he had seen his parents and older siblings kill these small beasts many times before, but somehow he could never summon the courage to do the same. He always heard a scream or a plea for mercy when he tried to do.

At first he had thought that it was just his imagination, but the repeated occurrence of it hinted at another thing and it was time to test the theory.

Salazar quickly looked around to check if there was anything within hearing range.

"Uh, hello," he whispered once he was sure he and the snake were alone.

"Hello small human," the snake replied.

They had a nice conversation and from that day onward the two of them would meet as often as they could. They actually became friends.

Until the day when everything changed.

It was roughly a year later. Salazar had not paid enough attention and his father had followed him.

Once the man had realised that his son was talking to a snake, he snapped.

Yelling about the devil's work, he swiftly beheaded the snake with a rusty knife before dragging Salazar to the nearby river.

"It must be done," he said. "Magic is the devil's work and I cannot let you infect any of my children with these demonic rituals!"

"Father, no, please," Salazar begged and pleaded, but it did nothing to change his father's mind.

"You are not my son. You never were," his father replied. No emotion was traceable on his face as he held his son's head underwater until he stopped struggling.

He left without a glance back.

Maybe he should have done so, because Salazar survived. Maybe it was a good thing the man didn't.

The young boy climbed out of the river, coughing and wheezing, but relatively unharmed.

Not knowing what else to do, he moved back towards his village only to discover his mother being burned at a stake.

Salazar was a smart boy. He realised that his mother had been burned because of him.

Horrified, he turned around and ran as far away as he could.

After surviving alone in the woods for the better part of a year, he was discovered by a group of bandits.

Once they realised he could do magic, because he had defended himself when they had threatened his life, they almost beat him to death.

With a last effort, Salazar fled. He did not know how he had done it, but from one moment to the next he was lying in front of a horse carrying a man clad in red and gold.

"Help...please," Salazar begged, not really believing he would really get anything even remotely like his request.

He had not seen kindness in over a year, so why should he now?