Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they belong only to the genius of Ms. Rowling.

Beta: WinterMoonglade

Previously:

With that, Harry was mollified and content to be ushered into bed with his girlfriend for an exceedingly rare second night of uninterrupted sleep.

Chapter 7: Friday Comes

"I don't know about this, Sirius. Just his presence in the castle puts me on edge. He said it, in front of everyone, smugly. He's a Dark Wizard. He actually earned a Mastery in the subject!" James continued pacing in his office, nervously threading his fingers through his messy locks.

Sirius sat in an armchair listening to his best friend rant. Now was not the time to remind James that he was Dark Wizard himself. He was the Head of the Blacks, one of the most notoriously Dark families in existence. Just because he fought for Dumbledore did not mean that he was Light. He just had a thing against homicidal maniacs in general. No, his reason for being suspicious of the young Salazar Slytherin was simply that; he was a Slytherin. They were devious, cunning, manipulative and generally untrustworthy. A loud crash jostled Sirius out of his musings.

James was panting in rage. Beside him were the remnants of one of Lily's favorite vases. Sirius shook his head, knowing that Lily would have James's head when she found out that he had destroyed it in a fit of irritation. "You know James, I agree that Slytherin is dangerous, but so is your wife. I would suggest you calm down and fix the vase before she finds it because I don't want to be anywhere near here when she discovers that it was broken. I remember the last time. I swear my ears are still ringing."

James's face paled as he looked at the ruin of the delicate vase resting by his feet. As if on cue, the door opened, revealing a petite redheaded woman. "James, I must say, sometimes you are the biggest idiot on the face of this planet …" she trailed off as she noticed the mess on the floor by her husband's feet.

Sirius casually stood up and edged toward the doorway to leave his friend in the more than capable hands of his wife. Just as the doorway closed, separating him from the couple, he heard, "James Edward Potter! What is this mess!" Sirius chuckled silently to himself and resolved to return later, preferably when Lily was done ranting at James. It was times like these that he was convinced he would never get married.

If there was one thing Harry hated more than Voldemort, it was shopping. Not only that, but shopping with two girls. He had already decorated the Chamber back in their own world; it should have made the whole expedition faster. But Ginny and Hermione were determined to get him to buy other fabrics and do his room in something other than emerald green and silver.

In the end, he agreed to let the girls help him pick out his clothes if they would just leave his room alone. He truly regretted that decision now. And people called him manipulative.

They were still in Hogsmeade. He had made it to a furniture store to order a new mattress, wardrobe, shelves and writing table. They were all to be done in the same wood that was originally in the room so that they would match the small end tables and bed frame already there. The bed curtains and sheets, however, had to be specially ordered and they would be shipped to the castle the next morning.

He decided to wait on ordering the furniture for the four guest bedrooms in the Chamber. There was no real rush to get those completed and he had every intention of letting Severus decorate one to his own tastes--that is, if he was still speaking with him after their meeting set for the next day.

So now, here he stood, in the middle of Gladrags Wizarding Wear with two insane witches, a seamstress, a tailor and the manager of the store all speaking at once trying to get his attention on whatever it was they were trying to sell him. He knew he had money, that was not the problem. The problem was that he just did not care. He did not see the necessity of buying all of these clothes when he had every intention of going back to his own dimension where he had already been through this.

Ron had already made his escape and was down the street examining Quidditch supplies or probably buying pranks from Zonko's. Apparently Salazar Slytherin had a higher image to uphold than Gryffindor. Ron got off easy, Gryffindor was known to be spartan and he was able to do without too many extra sets of clothes. But for some reason the public had the opinion that Slytherin must have been obsessed with fashion. In all reality, that was a modern pureblood trend, not one from an eon ago.

He swore to himself that he was never going shopping again. He did not like it, in either lifetime. After this trip, he was going to pick up his furniture, go down to the Chamber, arrange his bedroom and seal himself away until the meeting later that night. If Ginny helped bring down the furniture, he could use that time to key her into the wards too. Then, he could spend the rest of the afternoon hiding and repairing his wounded pride.

"Sal, I swear, if you don't come out hear right now and let me see that outfit, I'll come in after you. You still haven't gotten to the official dress robes for Ministry functions. Do I need to change you myself?" he heard Ginny's voice echo throughout the store as he hid behind the curtains.

He really hated shopping.

It was now late afternoon and Sirius had dragged Remus down the hallway to James and Lily's private quarters. He was sure that the dust had settled and it was safe to return, but he was going to have backup, just in case. He pressed his ear to the portrait door, trying to hear if anything was going on inside.

"Sometimes, Padfoot, I wonder how you got into Gryffindor," Remus said as he shoved Sirius aside and knocked on the door.

The door opened, revealing a pretty girl about fourteen years old with auburn hair and warm hazel eyes. Seeing the two men, she beamed and rushed at them, arms open.

"Hey kiddo! Is your Dad in?"

Violet laughed at Sirius's wary expression. "Yeah, he's in his office, sulking."

Remus shook his head at his friends' childish antics. If there was one reason he was glad James married Lily, it was because he finally was able to have a mature conversation with someone that lasted more than ten minutes.

Sirius followed Remus to the door of James's study. Remus swiveled his head about to look at Sirius. "Do you think you can handle knocking on the door? Or shall I?"

Sirius grunted at the werewolf in response and elbowed his way to the door before briskly rapping out a staccato.

"Come in," came the muffled and disgruntled response.

The two Marauders entered the study to find their friend glaring at a cold fireplace.

"You know Prongs, the fire won't start only from your glare. I believe that talent is reserved for Snivellus," Sirius called out, getting his attention.

"Hey mates," James replied, his pensive look returning.

"Alright, I know you can't be sulking about Lily chewing you out for breaking the vase. She's yelled at you so many times over the years I'm surprised your ear drums haven't ruptured," Remus said as he walked across the room, then took a seat in the leather arm chair by the cold fireplace.

Sirius hopped over the back of the couch, causing James to bounce on his cushion.

"No, it's not Lily. It's Violet."

Remus did a double take at that unexpected answer.

"I'm concerned about her. You know how naturally inquisitive she is." James glanced up from his staring contest with the inanimate fixture to see Sirius and Remus hesitantly nod, waiting to see where he was going with this line of thought.

"She's going to be fascinated by the Founders, which is all well and good, but with her ability to find trouble, I just can't help worrying about her associating with the wrong one."

Remus could see where this was going, but he was not too sure that he liked it. Violet would do whatever she felt like, regardless of the consequences; she was too much like her father not to. Telling her not to do something was almost a guarantee that she would do exactly the opposite.

James continued in his reasoning, "When Voldemort finds out that his ancestor is here, he will be determined to plead his side. Can you really see Salazar Slytherin siding against his descendent? And with all of the things Voldemort has pulled over the years, I am afraid of what might happen if she is left alone with that man. I can't lose my daughter too."

Sirius put his arm around James's shoulders and pulled him into a brotherly hug. "Then it's simple, Prongs, we make sure that she's never alone with him. Let her talk with the other Founders all she wants, but give her express directions to leave if Slytherin is in the area."

Remus leaned forward and put his hand comfortingly on James's knee. "We'll all three tell her. Maybe she'll see how important it is if we approach her together."

James gave a weak smile and nodded.

Violet sat opposite her father, arms crossed in defiance. Sometimes, having the equivalent of three fathers, even if they were the infamous Marauders, was extremely maddening for a girl. So far, they had only been this controlling on the subject of boys.

"Violet Spryte Potter, are you listening to me?"

She glanced up from her sulk enough to glare at her father and his two best friends that were imposing these ludicrous restrictions on her.

"I will not have you anywhere near that man. You can talk to the other Founders, but I don't care if all three of them are with him, you will make your excuses and leave. Are we clear young lady?"

She could not contain an eye roll. Slipping her left hand further into the crook of her right elbow, she crossed her fingers. "Yes Daddy," she said innocently.

She was not about to let her father dictate who she was allowed to talk to. There was a reason the hat had difficulty deciding between Gryffindor and Slytherin, not that she had told anyone else. She took full advantage of her innocent face. It would melt the heart of nearly anyone and she rarely had to ask for something if she wanted it. The unfortunate downside of this, however, was that it tended to make adults overprotective of her, not just her parents. She knew that there would be no way that her father or uncles would changes their minds about her speaking to Lord Slytherin, but that did not mean that she would obey them. She found him fascinating and drawn to the dark teen. Besides, rules were meant to be broken, it was after all the first rule of the Marauders.

Normally, weekends were something that every teenager celebrated. However, this particular weekend and these particular teenagers found more to be concerned and anxious about than to celebrate. Tragically, for them, Friday still came.

The four Heads of Houses filed into the office. An unusual set-up met them when the inner office door opened. In the center of the room, in front of the Headmaster's desk, was a bowl sitting on a pedestal containing a silvery fluid. To the right of this bowl, sat the four Founders in ornately carved and upholstered chairs. Finishing the semi-circle, were four chintz chairs that the Headmaster was so famous for conjuring on the left side of the pensieve.

The four young Founders appeared nervous, all except the teenaged Salazar Slytherin. Snape narrowed his eyes and examined the verdant-eyed wizard closer. His face was set in a blank mask of indifference and his posture screamed of confidence and control. But, his left hand was clenched tightly around Hufflepuff's right. His small snake familiar was entwined about his upper arm and appeared to be whispering into his ear. It was these tiny details that concerned Severus the most and showed him that Slytherin was perhaps the most nervous here.

"Ah, good, you're here," a pleased Dumbledore said as he approached his seat behind the desk.

The Heads made their way to the chairs that were clearly set out for them and sat down, facing the Founders over the pensieve.

"We have a lot to go over today. In front of you is the memory of the meeting we conducted on Tuesday, right after their arrival outside of Godric's Hollow. After you view this memory, I am sure that you will have plenty of questions. In fact, I still have several questions that I would like answered. Then, we must discuss their roles in this school and how disciplinary situations will be resolved and by whom.

"If you four would approach the pensieve, we can begin. I will ask you to keep an open mind and be respectful after you finish viewing the memory."

With that the four Heads touched the silvery liquid and disappeared into the memory.

Time passed achingly slowly for the four nervous teens. They did not know how their deception would be received, nor their identities. The truth was so far fetched that their lie made more sense than the stark reality. This would change their relationships with these people in ways they did not even want to contemplate. Up until now, they had been treated with respect and deference. However, once they realized that they were merely the alternates of the children they taught, the respect and treatment they had received thus far may be totally eradicated.

Dumbledore sat in his chair, regally surveying the teens. He was intrigued by them. They were walking contradictions. At one moment, they were proud and imposing; the next, they were nervous, anxious and desperate for acceptance. He supposed that it made sense to most people. However, he found that nearly everyone fell into that category for him and therefore, he treated everyone about the same. They were always his students, his children. It just happened that he was more disappointed in some than others.

The four teachers reappeared outside of the pensieve, stunned. McGonagall made her way, shakily, to a chair and sat down. Looking up, she stared at Harry as if seeing him for the first time. Professor Sprout was just as stunned, but for different reasons. She had always known that her House had the potential for bravery, but she had never seen it as clearly displayed as she saw in Ginny. Flitwick was sitting still, contemplating the charm that could have sent four essentially adult wizards across dimensions; he was stumped.

Snape, however, remained standing. A look of utter revulsion twisted his features into a snarl. The man he respected and had started to befriend was nothing more than Potter spawn.

Harry gazed levelly at the Head of Slytherin, only to be met with a sneer. He knew he would have the most work out of everyone to regain the trust he had started to earn from the Potions Master.

Dumbledore looked reprovingly at Snape. "Severus, please."

Snape scowled and sank into the last open arm chair, glaring at Harry the entire time.

Dumbledore looked over the still stunned professors to see if they were ready to begin. "Very well, I believe I shall start with the question that has been bothering me the most."

This captured the attention of the four teens. They quickly refocused on the real reason of the meeting.

"How did you kill Voldemort?"

The professors shuddered at the name, which caused Harry to smirk. Some things never changed.

He turned to Dumbledore, avoiding Severus's icy glare. "As you are aware, there was a prophecy made about me and a power the Dark Lord knew not. You had suggested that the power was love, but you were not quite right. We found a spell that would draw on not only my power, but the latent magic in Hogwarts' very foundation. Hermione could explain the intricacies better than I can. In effect, the power was true loyalty and trust. The four of us had to unite the school to make a steady base to drawn on. We then set ourselves facing the four directions, with me facing Tom. Incanting the spell, we focused the magic through me. I basically acted as the wand. With the amount of power we were able to tap into we obliterated him."

Dumbledore seemed impressed. "You mentioned loyalty and trust as the true power …"

Harry smiled, "Yes. In order for the spell to work, I had to have complete trust in my friends. They had complete access to my magical core. If they were not truly loyal to me or if I did not have complete trust in them, the results would have been entirely different. It was possible that I could have exploded or have been drained of my life and magic."

Everyone looked stunned at that announcement. The mere thought of four teenagers willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for the good of the Wizarding World was humbling.

Professor McGonagall shook herself out of her stupor enough to ask, "Are you sure he's dead? He's carried out so many rituals to ensure his immortality that I wouldn't be surprised if his spirit lived beyond his body's destruction."

Harry's face darkened at this, drawn into the scant memory he had of the night he lost his parents.

Ron decided it was time to take the foreground and give Harry time to come out of his morbid thoughts. "Most definitely. Before we were hit with whatever curse it was that sent us here, I saw his soul destroyed. It was bloody brilliant. His body literally disintegrated and this black shadow escaped and tried to leave the grounds. The next thing we knew there was this awful shrieking and the soul imploded."

Flitwick and Sprout looked mildly scandalized by this less than tactful description of the Dark Lord' demise. McGonagall was trapped in between her role as Deputy Headmistress and a Gryffindor. She kept fluctuating between being clearly impressed and being disgruntled at the less than professional report on his destruction. Snape kept his face neutral; he was not prepared to get his hopes up that just because these four could get rid of the Voldemort in their world, they could get rid of the Voldemort in this. However, he could not help but lightly finger his left forearm, wishing for the day he would no longer bear his disgusting mark.

Pomona Sprout looked thoughtfully at Harry. "If you've already fought and defeated You-Know-Who, why did you say that you wouldn't help us?"

The four shifted uncomfortably in their seats. There was no easy way to explain their histories, and definitely not Harry's. That was something they hoped to put off, at least until their meeting with the Order the next day.

Harry felt it was best if he took control again since most of their reservations came from him. "We are from a completely different world. There is no way to know what carries over between the two or if your Voldemort could even be vanquished in the same manner. Most importantly, however, is that we just killed him barely minutes before we arrived here. I can't speak for everyone else, but I am not excited about the idea of having to do it again."

Snape could see the logic in these words. They were not the ramblings of some reckless Gryffindor. If he had just survived a war, he would not be so anxious to jump into another one. He strongly suspected that the only reason he was here was on the urgings of his girlfriend and best friend. Of course, it appeared as if he was the only one in the room that truly understood, though.

As if confirming his inner thoughts, McGonagall asked, "You are going to help though, right?"

Harry sighed. This world was completely different in some respects, yet horribly the same in others. It seemed that no matter what dimension he was in, no one really listened to him. "We'll see. That's what we will be talking about tomorrow."

McGonagall sat back, dissatisfied with that answer.

It was clear to everyone that the subject was closed for the evening.

Just then, tiny Professor Flitwick spoke up, "I'm confused by all of this. You have so much knowledge of the castle and heir system, however you play the Founders too well to just be their heirs. Who exactly are you?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, pleased. This was one of the questions he had been most anxious to hear the answer to. However, he knew if it came from him, it would be met with suspicion.

Hermione sat forward, eager to discuss the intricacies of their genealogies and Hogwarts' growing sentience. Harry looked relieved that he escaped anymore explanations that evening.

"Well, you see, that's a very intriguing problem. We didn't really know a lot about all of this until the castle unlocked our memories. Theoretically, when an heir is claimed, Hogwarts passes on the knowledge of our secret chambers and the secrets of the castle. That is not exactly what happened to us, though. Instead, she released the memories that were dormant in us. We are the Founders, just their reincarnations."

There was stunned silence in the office following this proclamation. But she did not stop there. "That, however, is not the most interesting part of the whole thing. Not only are we the reincarnations of the Founders, but we also happen to be their direct descendents. That was a huge surprise for both Harry and I.

"I thought I was a muggleborn. However, apparently my mother is from a long line of squibs that descend from Rowena Ravenclaw. My father, however, is purely muggle. I didn't even bother researching my full family history though until we realized that all of us were actual descendents of, well, ourselves." Hermione paused, momentarily confused by the cyclical pattern.

"Well, the Slytherin family is more interesting than mine, but not nearly as complex as the Gryffindor or Hufflepuff lines. You see, Slytherin had two sons. Unfortunately, the first son's line eventually disappeared and no one kept any real records. The Gaunts were known descendents of Salazar, however, they were from the second son. As long as the eldest's line remained, they would never truly be the rightful heirs. The easiest way to tell if a person is Slytherin is through their eye color. It's rather distinctive and usually the first feature anyone will notice on them. Three generations ago, however, the last descendent from that eldest son of Salazar's was born a squib and they could have no more children. It was this reason that made Harry's grandparents so ecstatic that their youngest was a witch. She had been the first since her great grandparents to be magical. With that magical inheritance, she gained the distinctive emerald green eyes of a true Slytherin. I doubt even she realizes her ancestry. It took quite a long time to work it out, nearly as long as it took me to find my magical history."

Harry interrupted briefly, "You have no idea how happy I was to find out that my Parseltongue gift was my own and not something I received from Voldemort the night he tried to kill me."

Hermione smiled gently at him. "I believe I'll let Ginny tell her family history. It's rather complex and took a lot of work from her to find it all out. Of course, it probably wouldn't have if Ron had helped out some," she said, shooting a playful glare at her fiancé. Ron ducked his head slightly in embarrassment from being scolded in front of the people they were trying to impress.

Ginny loosened her grip on Harry's hand slightly before beginning her portion of the conversation. "As you know, Ron is my older brother. I got my name, Ginevra," she paused with a slightly disgusted looked on her face, "because I was the first girl born into the Weasley family in generations. Godric was Helga's older brother, however, the Hufflepuff line was matrilineal causing them to have different last names. As long as there was a female born to the line, she would take the last name Hufflepuff. After a time though, only boys were born into the family and they always took their fathers' names. The Hufflepuff line was lost and matrilineal lines eventually faded into the history books. The Weasley line is directly descended from Helga Hufflepuff.

"That, however, is not the only thing that complicates matters because the Prewetts were directly descended from Godric Gryffindor. Normally, you would expect the eldest son to take the inheritance and title, but that didn't really work out in this case. Ron was the actual reincarnation of Godric, which pretty much nullified any claims that the other boys could have on it." She stopped, looking at the even more perplexed faces of the teachers.

Flitwick spoke up enough to squeak out his follow up question. "So, what you are saying is that you are all descendents of the Founders. Not only that, but you are also their reincarnations."

Hermione nodded vigorously. "It's really odd. Theoretically, there should have been heirs throughout the generations, but like we said in the Hall, Hogwarts herself is left to select those that should be deemed heirs. From what we were able to gather in our own world, the magic that has been used in her for so long has given her a kind of sentience. She already had some minor form of it when she was built, but it has grown over the last one thousand years. Needless to say, she decided that there was no real substitute for the real thing and never chose heirs. So, when we came here she recognized us as, well, as her parents of a sort. After several years, we essentially proved ourselves and she showed us the secrets of the castle as heirs should be shown. However, it unlocked the residual memories we had of our past lives. We woke up the next day with more knowledge than we knew existed and masteries in subjects that we would not have been able to pursue due to the educational system's structure."

The stunned silence in the office was palpable. It was clear that none of the professors knew exactly what to make of these proclamations. They were merely teenagers, and teenagers with counterparts that were their students. However, they were also the Founders with all of their memories. Dumbledore cleared his throat before reaching for a lemon drop.

"I think it would be best if we remembered that outside appearances must be kept. To the rest of the school and the Wizarding World in general, they will still be known as the Founders. To treat them any differently than such would risk suspicion and we cannot afford that at this point in time. So, my question to you is how will we resolve your roles in the school. Clearly we cannot expect you to act as students or be treated as inferiors to the staff. But we also cannot allow your presence to undermine the faculty's authority."

Snape forced himself to withhold a sneer at this inane turn in the conversation. He was already aware of the fact that Lord Slytherin, no Potter, did not want that type of responsibility. But this did not fit with the image he had of all things related to that arrogant twat who tormented his every move. Perhaps it would be best to merely think of the boy as Salazar instead of the dead son of his enemy. After all, that was exactly who he was, in a way.

Harry again took the reins of the discussion and supplied the solution he had come up with several days before. "We are the same age as your oldest students and we do not want to take over the school from you. However, I think it would be a bad decision to act as if nothing has changed in the way Hogwarts is run. In order to reduce the amount of influence the students feel we have over them, perhaps we should eat breakfast and lunch at our respective House tables and then dinner at the Head Table. The staff would still have the same responsibilities to the students and we would be seen as merely visitors, people capable of blending with either group. We would hold their respect and be able to lecture students or send them to a teacher for punishment, but wouldn't issue detentions or point losses ourselves. That way, we are still seen as authority figures, but we would still distance ourselves from the immediate situation."

Dumbledore thought this suggestion over thoroughly. Soon, all of the staff would know that they were not actually from the past and it would be best if they were treated as a neutral group, one with respect, but no real power in governing the school other than what their presence would ensure.

"Very well. I believe that is the best solution for now. I think we have all had a long and tiring meeting. Please come prepared for tomorrow's Order meeting. It starts at one, please try to be early so that we may start on time. The members will be viewing this meeting through the pensieve to cut down on irrational outbursts and to start everyone on even footing. Have a good evening."

With that dismissal, the eight stood up and left the office.

Harry was jerked to the side by a rough hand on his elbow. A silky baritone hissed into his ear, "I believe we have some things to discuss."

Snape and Harry turned and walked in the opposite direction from the group heading towards the Great Hall. The silence stretched on until they reached the isolation of the dungeon classrooms and sealed themselves into Snape's private office.

"So, a Potter." Snape reclined against his desk with his arms folded across his chest.

Harry had to restrain himself from wincing at the frigid tone. He knew this would not be easy, but he refused to give up his first friend in this world. "Yes."

"I cannot imagine why you would go through such great lengths to get on my good side. I realize that your father died; but you did not mention anything about Black or Lupin. I doubt they would approve of you giving me access to your personal chambers."

Harry heard the underlying question. The problem was that he did not know how to answer it. The man made his life a living nightmare until the age of sixteen. They were still barely on speaking terms in his home dimension. He was not even sure if the man survived the final battle. But he had learned that Severus Snape was one man that no one should ever cross.

"The first reason was because I was aware that no one else would talk to me as Salazar Slytherin. But I've always respected you, even if you were an evil git to me."

"And why would I have cause to be harsher on you than anyone else?"

"You know, I was never too sure about that. The Headmaster said it was because my father saved your life, which I never really understood. I always thought that it was because my father died before you could get your revenge and took it out on me in his place."

Severus scowled and nodded at the possibility. "I cannot imagine that the mutts merely sat back and let me take my vengeance."

Harry shook his head. "They were in no position to do anything about it. Sirius was in Azkaban until third year when he escaped and was on the run until the end of my fifth year when Bellatrix LeStrange killed him. I only met Remus my third year when he became our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Snape was confused. The illustrious Marauders were completely destroyed and had no influence over the young man in front of him, that much was clear. There had to be more reason than just past grudges. Of course, he had the real people to focus on, not a shade.

"I think the main difference was that in my world, I had gotten rid of Voldemort and you had to keep up appearances as a disgruntled Death Eater, which made me the obvious target for your attacks."

"That would make sense, but I doubt that I treated you much better in private."

"No, you didn't."

"So why did you approach me and offer me your help against your father and his friends?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Although I want nothing more than their acceptance, from what you know of them, do you really think they would accept the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin as their long lost son?"

Snape stood up from the desk he was leaning on and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, I do not."

Harry nodded, slightly disheartened, but expecting the answer nonetheless. Looking up at one of the only two people that accepted him in this new dimension he said, "I think it would be easiest if you just thought of me as Salazar Slytherin: Potions Master and Master of the Dark Arts and their Defense."

Snape nodded in agreement. This man had very few similarities to his arrogant, Gryffindor father and it would be easier to think of him as Slytherin rather than a Potter.

"I will see you tomorrow Professor Snape. I still have to finish my bedroom. The hangings came in this morning and I want to get that done. If I have the energy after the meeting tomorrow, I'll start cleaning out the guest bedroom."

Snape undid the silencing charms on the room and unlocked the door.

As Harry left the abandoned dungeon classroom, he head a distinctive baritone voice say, "Have a good evening, Salazar."

A/N: Wow, finally done. Okay that was by far the longest chapter yet. I shudder to think of chapter eight and how long it will be. I hope you enjoyed it. This should be the end of the long-winded explanations, so get ready for lots of angst, politics and prejudice.