Jessi Brooke's Note: The thing I hate most about muses, is that they come and go without even leaving a note. Also, I'm upping the rating for this chapter, for some mature words the kiddies shouldn't be reading.

FredandGeorgeWeasleyareMYKings: Thank you for both reviews! Well, I agree with the memory thing, & Helga doesn't remember Germany, although Helmfried tries to get her to remember. I can live with the number of review I'm getting, as long as people are enjoying it, I'm happy.

RavenEcho: Thank you also for both reviews! I like how you write Salazar in your story as well. I think it's kind of like all those Marauder fics out there, sometimes Lily is a hippie, other times she is a bookworm, depending on the story line.This reminds me, I haven't gotten a chance to read your latest chapter yet, I'll go do that.

Salazar's POV

My first job as a stable was to take the Hufflepuff's ugly youngest daughter into town to retrieve some package. I had to be on my best behavior, or else the Hufflepuff girl will surely tattle on me. It's quite obvious that she wishes her brother was here in my place. I wish he was in my place too. Why would I ever want to be a stable boy, driving smelly horses through narrow pathways in this godforsaken glen for two hours, then into town for the day with this ugly little wench?

Her hair was pretty though, if she took better care of it she could probably sell it for a nice price. But good pureblooded girls don't sell their hair. They don't even think about such lowlife things. No, only people like me, with diseased blood, non-magic blood, running through their veins would ever have a thought like that.

No, I am no child of non-magical parenting; I could never live with myself if that were true. My mother was solely and completely magic. I don't know about my father, I don't even know who he is. All I know is that I am the bastard child of a witch with enough money to send her son to be stable hand in England to pay for his magical education. Somehow it had gotten through to my mother that the Hufflepuff daughters had a special kind of tutor. And somehow she found out that this tutor taught them magic. Don't know how she found that out, though. She is a lowly servant, and servants have a tendency to gossip about their masters. Maybe that is how word got out. People always seemed to remember the things you rather they would forget.

The only thing that could be heard was the clip-clop of the horseshoes on the ground below. This was going to be a long day; I could just feel it in my bones. And it would most likely be a boring one, too. I didn't mind the silence, I was used to it. Besides, silence was good for thinking.

But I had to talk. If I wanted to get on the favorable side of the Hufflepuff family, it would do best to acquaint myself with one of their daughters, even if she wore little more than rags. But then, that would mean starting a conversation- never one of my strong points. I had never really liked being around people. People were stupid, gullible creatures that were not worth my time, unless something could be gained from them.

"Well," I started, and from the moment I opened my mouth, I knew that I was going to sound stupid, and this only confirmed it, "What's it like? Living here, I mean." My voice trailed off. I mentally bashed myself for sounding so unintelligent, like the lowlife I really was. If only I could make myself more presentable, once I had mastered magic I could leave this place and make a new name for myself. No one would ever have to know that Salazar Slytherin quite possibly had non-magic blood in him.

"It's alright," said the girl slowly, "Helmfried does not like it, tzough." I had met Helmfried; he was a nice man, in charge of the Hufflepuff horses. I wondered why the oldest child and only son of the Hufflepuff's would be working in the stable. Probably a strain of rebellion in him, his old master had a son like that. He was too brave, took too many chances.

"Oh? And why not?" I prompted. I found that trying to steer the horses (something I never had done before, but I didn't let on ) and talking at the same time was kind of hard to do.

"He says, he says," she managed to get out slowly, than stopped. It was obvious that she was hiding something from me. And that made me impatient.

"What does he say, Helga?" I asked, hoping that I had not shown my impatience with the daughter of my master and mistress. I had always tried not to show my emotions, they showed your weaknesses and then people took advantage of them. But when I was particularly annoyed, that was kind of hard to do. I was working on it, though. And once I had perfected not showing my emotions, I knew I would be much better off.

"Because, because," she struggled, "Because ve are adopted. Tzat's vaht Helmfried says. But I, I don't remember anyzhing before England."

Well, I had to say, I was not completely shocked. It did explain how she and Helmfried had fair hair and eyes, while the other children were darker. And of course, there was the tell-tale accent. Lord Edmund had probably brought them back from one of his adventures, like I was. Of course, they hadn't chosen to adopt me. And they treated the pair like mere servants. Perhaps Lord Edmund had an affair with another while on a journey. Still, they would have inherited his dark hair, like the others.

There still was not something completely right about the entire situation. I however, had the tact not to push the subject forward. Otherwise, I may never get another word out of her, and how would that help me?

"Isn't that interesting," I nodded, "Would you happen to know how much longer it will be until we reach town?" I was already tired of guiding these horses. Which wasn't a very good thing at all, seeing as I would be doing this for a long time. Or at least, as long as I stayed with the Hufflepuffs. And who knew how long that would be? Not me, that's for sure.

"Ve are vewy near to zhe town," she observed, "Alzhough, it is not a vewy easy pahz, so it should not be too long."

Well, if that wasn't vague. How long was too long, in her perspective? I really would have preferred a more exact answer, if that wasn't asking too much. And I didn't think it was.

And just when I was about to get mad, I found that we had reached the outskirts of the village. I saw farmers harvesting crops, and muddy little children running about. I was always a hypochondriac, I resented getting myself dirty. I put a finger through my dark hair, now in a sleek ponytail. It felt nice and clean. It always made me happy to be clean; it was satisfying in a way I couldn't explain-

"SALAZAR!" the Helga girl shrieked. I came back to reality and found that we were going off the path, and onto some farmer's land. Quickly I pulled on the reins, and started to direct the horses back onto the dirt road. But it was too late; the farmer had spotted us and was running up to the carriage quickly.

"You, young man- just what do you think you're doing? Don't you know how to steer a team of horses, boy? What's wrong with you!" the man yelled. He was really getting at my temper. He was an older man with salt and pepper color hair, and a big bushy beard. He was a large man, with large gray eyes that were already scrutinizing me.

"I-I am terribly sorry, sir-" I began smoothly, but was cut off by Helga. I wanted to slap her, I didn't like top be interrupted.

"Mr. Longwood?" she asked from my other side, "Is zhat you?"

And then the man did something I didn't expect. He smiled.

"Helga, my girl, I didn't know that you were there! Who's your friend?" he inquired. So now I was the friend, interesting.

"Zis, is Salazar Slyzherin, he just came to ze mansion," she introduced, "He is working as a stable boy." It annoyed me how she could not pronounce my surname, we would have to work on that. My face reddened slightly as she mentioned my job. I must have looked like a pretty poor stable boy. Luckily, that was not the real reason I was at the Hufflepuff's, otherwise I would have surely been fired. From the look upon his face, that Mr. Longwood seemed to think so as well. But he didn't have to know the real reason. It made me feel kind of superior, having knowledge that he did not.

"Well, nice to meet you, young man. I best be off, you tell your brother I say hello, ya here, Helga?" he smiled, and walked off.

"Yes, sir," she nodded, "I vill."

We didn't speak for the rest of the ride into town. Slowly the land became more populated and more houses started to pop up from the land. The town was very busy, bustling with more dirty people. Helga directed me to a town stable, where we put up the horses. This stable boy seemed to know her brother as well, and she gave him a loaf of bread from her basket before we were off. She seemed to be friends with everybody, that girl. It made her friendship- no acquaintance all the more important.

"Where is this place?" I asked, unused to the hustle and bustle of the town, "I mean, where we're supposed to be going to pick up this package."

She giggled- why was she giggling? I didn't see how what I had just said was in any way, shape, or form, funny.

"It's right zhere," she pointed across the road and a little further down to the left. I didn't blame myself, though. How was I supposed to know what this tavern looked like? I for one, had never stepped foot into a tavern in my whole entire life.

We crossed the busy road to the other side. It took quite a lot of shoving to get through, and it was then that I learned "push others, or they might push you even harder." Great lesson, no?

While everyone seemed to be filing in and out of the many shops and taverns quickly, must people didn't even glance at the tavern. It was as if they didn't even know it was there. It was very strange. I was just about to enter the tavern when Helga stopped me by getting in my way, "What?" I asked, agitated.

"Ve do not go in tzrough ze front, ve go in tzrough ze side," she explained kindly. Taking my hand she led me around the tavern, and in through a side enterance.

It looked like we had entered some sort of a kitchen, if it could be called that. It was disgustingly dirty- how could people eat the food here? There was dirt and grime all over the place, and it didn't look like they cleaned the stone plates very often.

A young man came in, roughly Helmfried's age, carrying in some empty tin mugs. He looked as dirty as the kitchen, with masses of unkempt black curls. He didn't seem to be surprised that Helga and I were waiting there in the kitchen. Quite the contrary, he looked as if he had been wondering where they had gone off to.

"You're making him mad," he muttered, as he put some meat on the grimy plates, "Sir Theodric is not pleased, he has other important business that he must attend to."

"Tell him ve are very sorry," explained Helga, "And zhat it vill never happen again."

"It better not," muttered the raven haired man, "He's been close to causing a ruckus soon, and you know why we especially can't have that." Helga nodded, but I was confused. What was this place really?

The boy turned to me, and pushed me forcefully out the kitchen door and into the main tavern dining area. I was confused- why me and not Helga? Helga knew much more about what was going on then I did. But as I looked around at who was in the tavern, I realized why. There was not one woman there. It seems a tavern was a place where men congregated to drink, eat, and talk. And Helga being of the female gender, it would probably not be appropriate for her to come in.

"Lord Theodric, the messenger from the Hufflepuffs has arrived for their order," announced the waiter, setting the plates on the table where five men sat. I watched in disgust as the men, some of them who looked like nobles, hastily spooned food into their mouth.

"That Hufflepuff never comes home," said one of the men, loud and boisterous and fat. From the smell of his breath, I could tell that he had been doing a lot of drinking, "Always off on business. Well what sort of business, says I?"

"Fraternizing with the womenfolk all over the world, perhaps?" laughed a tall one with light hair loudly. They all laughed, but I did not see what was so funny about that. I had personally met Lord Edmund Hufflepuff, and I thought that he was a hard worker, and a good men. He was always losing money though, because he was trying to help everyone else. I wanted to tell them that, but I didn't want to disagree with a group of drunken men who were all bigger and stronger and more powerful than me.

"No, no, Hufflepuff is too good for that. His wife though, doesn't seem to be the loyalist of women," said a third, bulky and short, and all the rest laughed heartily. The young waiter went over to another table, and I was left alone with these drunken men. Great, just dandy (can you hear the sarcasm?).

"Ah, me laddies, don't be insulting my best customer," said a small man with beady eyes and balding dark hair on his head. He was neat and clean-shaven, well, cleaner than anyone else in the tavern- even cleaner than I. And that was saying something.

"Boy, you want the package- here it is," he said, and he handed me a heavy satchel, and I stumbled under its weight.

"Ah, this package not a child this time?" asked the fat and boisterous one. They roared with laughter. I thought I heard a rattling coming from the kitchen, but I brushed it off. Why would the kitchen be shaking anyway? It made no sense.

"Maybe that is where the Hessian children came from- they have the same colored hair as her!" said the first. They all chuckled.

"It wouldn't surprise me if that Helmfried and Helga were bastards," nodded the third man, "And that Hufflepuff is such a pushover, he'd take them in." There were barks of agreement, but that wasn't the only thing that seemed to get louder. The shaking became more apparent, I couldn't be imagining it. But how could it be?

"Well, what are you waiting for boy?" said the tall man, "Don't you want to go back home to your whorish mistress, her ugly daughters, and the bastards? Must be great, working for them. Are the daughters whores too?" This got the must laughter. But this time, I didn't just stand there and take. This time I decided to do something different. I ducked. And just in time.

There was a crash, a large explosion. The entire kitchen had spontaneously exploded- plates were flying everywhere- there was a cloud of dirt and debris. After a moment of silence, people started coughing, and I looked up and back at the kitchen as the cloud subsided. There had been a small circle of untouched floor in the kitchen. In it stood a wide-eyed Helga, her hands over her mouth in pure shock.

She might not have known it, but Helga was the most powerful witch I had ever heard of! I waited to see what she had to say. Obviously she was an expert witch, and had a totally good explanation for why she let her temper loose like that.

"H-How," she said, shaking, "Vhat just happened?"

I was incredulous. How could someone be that powerful and not even know it? I knew that she just had to be joking.

"It's because you're a witch, Helga," I said, as if stating the obvious.

The drunken men, who had once been laughing with glee, exchanged shocked but knowing glances. They began to primp themselves as they got off of the ground. The raven-haired waiter began to upright chairs, and all stared at Helga.

"I think," said Lord Theodric quietly, "That what we have been looking for, has been under our noses all along."