"What in the name of Merlin?" Harry cried, rubbing his back, having landed hard, after the memory threw him out. Memories never throw out viewers?

"Yeah, because they are free public toilets," remarked a voice sarcastically, as Harry looked up to see Tom smirking at him, leaning at the doorframe.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He had told the boy of the world he belonged to, and a bit of his heritage, but never had got round to actually teaching him anything magical. How in the world did the boy come to know the dynamics of memories?

A laugh pointed to right where the boy must've got it from.

Salazar Slytherin sat at the only portrait in the room, looking way too amused.

"By the way, Harold, your son over here," he pointed to Tom, as Harry and Tom both shouted, "I'm not his father!" and "I'm not his son!" respectively. Slytherin plodded on, "Whatever you boys might style yourselves, you'll always be that to me. Now shut up and listen, Harold. Your son had taken to annoying me a lot lately with his incessant questions, so I've taken to plough some knowledge into him, that might come in handy, like you messing up over there. Now, son, explain." He finished, staring at Tom.

Tom smirked, and said, "Thanks Granddad Slytherin. Harry, grandfather told me that memories of that sort always carry a guarding ward. And before you freak out, yes we do know what you went to do. Grandfather knew as soon as he came to know you had gone to visit Lestrange, and he just taught me to put two and two together. So, he says that that memory is open to only a Lestrange, or the bloodline of Slytherins. So when you were viewing it, you were the only Slytherin doing so, so it answered to you. Now, just as soon as Granddad says he stepped into the memory, did you notice some anomaly?"

Now Harry rememebered. "Why, yes! I remember sensing the tension of the magic in the memory, and the flickering of the shades as soon as Salazar entered….I'm not supposed to feel anything in the memory!" he ended, finally understanding.

Salazar addressed him. "So Harold, due to a certain situation" he winked at Harry, "you have access to a very rare type of magic." Harry understood the reference to the Hallows, "And they started interfering with your magical signature as soon as I entered. The memory saw my blood as truer than yours, as I was the one Slytherin who did not have that magic ingrained into my blood. You don't make the list, and clear as sunshine, the memory chucks you out. Shall I add the mistake of not unlocking your magical signature when you apparated in and dived into the memory? By Merlin, lad, you can erase your trace from the Lestrange's by locking down your signature, but is that really needed in your home?"

Harry sighed. It was that same darn impatience, as well. Well, he had to rectify that. And fast, too.

"Okay. What do I do to make it recognize me as a true Slytherin?"

Salazar raised his eyebrows. "Do I have to tell you that, lad?"

"Nope."

Harry grimaced, and hissed to the pensieve, feeling rather stupid.

"Show me your secret."

The memory, which had turned black, slowly whirled in the pensieve, turning lighter, till it glowed silver like it had normally.

As Harry entered the memory, he saw the former-seen Riomer Lestrange and Salazar Slytherin sitting at a table, discussing over something.

"They are getting restless day by day, My Lord, and I do not think we ought to leave them off for even more. Who knows what they'll destroy again?"

Lestrange seemed positively agitated as he said this, as Slytherin sat absent-mindedly twirling his wand between his fingers, till he spoke at last.

"I think…we should leave off them. The carnage at your village had attracted a rather unwanted attention. Granted, they might do something wrong. But there's isn't anything to worry. I have alerted all wizarding families within ten miles and more. They can stay hidden. Just bloodshed basing on paranoia is despicable, Lestrange." The last words seemed rebuking, as Lestrange bowed his head.

Slytherin raised a hand and gripped Lestrange's shoulder.

"Lestrange, I know what makes you say this. But even if you do thirst for revenge, you can do nothing more. Let go of the violence. Raise your son. You have been a shadow for years. Be a father to your son now."

Lestrange broke down in tears.

"Lestrange?! Riomer?! What in the name of Merlin?" Salazar spoke agitatedly.

"S-sorry My Lord," Lestrange stammered, "But the thought of Mary…poor Mary…they….they threw her in the….I-I couldn't do anything…"

Slytherin told nothing; his grip on the man's shoulder became only harder.

"I know may would condone what you did, My Lord. Many would say you're but a monster, a killing machine. Many would bestow dishonor upon you."

Slytherin smiled wearily. "And when has that ever stopped me from doing what is right?"

"My Lord," Lestrange spoke softly now, "No one would do what you did for me and my son. No one would've helped us. No one would've kept us up with them. No one would've given sanctuary to us. No one would've trust us."

"Hence I swear upon the blood of Lestrange and the honor of my soul, that till even one Lestrange is standing, he or she shall have undisputed allegiance to the Line. We would cast by, for, and of the Line. This is a pledge on the honor of House Lestrange!"

A swirling green and silver surrounded the two men, as Harry watched Slytherin stare at Lestrange with an unfathomable expression, and the memory slowly darkened and Harry rose from it, having now fully being able to complete the memory.

Slytherin stared at him with an unfathomable expression.

"Now, Harold, you will have to decide about yourself and Lestrange."

Harry nodded, looking at the window absent-mindedly. He could feel the anger simmering inside him as the full consequences of what the muggles had done so many centuries ago caught up to him. Granted, no one did anything today. But it was the same level of intolerance that he had seen from Voldemort and his pure-blood fanatics. Somehow, Harry knew, that the tides had turned. The muggles had become the hunted now, though they didn't know that. But the question was, was it all the same here like it had been in his era? The Purebloods seemed...saner here. Granted, they hadn't yet shown their true nature. No, no….he needed to think this through…..

Tom touched his arm. As Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, Tom said, "Walk for some while, Harry. Cool off the anger. Granddad did tell me what it was about. A walk would do you good. I suggest the Alley. People might not approach you so much as they would in the muggle world, Granddad told."

Harry turned to Salazar's portrait, which said, "Go, son. Do not make any hasty decisions. Go and think a while."

Harry nodded, and turned on the spot, slipping through his own-set wards, and disappeared with a crack.

And, had it not been the battle-born instinct of knowing a spell heading his way, Harry wouldn't have been able to put up a shield in time to stop the cutting curse aimed straight at him as he appeared in Diagon Alley.

Extinguishing the golden, shimmering mist of shield, Harry stared at his surroundings. Diagon Alley resembled the battle in Hogwarts, only much worse. Everywhere he could see, people were battling furiously. The people in blue official-looking robes-the Aurors, he identified, were being rapidly outnumbered by grey-clad wizards, who all seemed intent on only one thing: decimate the Auror ranks. The Alley's walls were blood-spattered as Harry saw the litter of bodies on the street, mostly blue-clad. But who were the grey ones…..they couldn't be….oh Merlin. He had forgot who he would be facing, or rather Dumbledore would be facing in this era.

Gellert Grindelwald.

He saw a couple of wizards standing over a woman, who was half-sat on the ground, clutching onto a bundle of cloth-her baby. The wizards cackled mercilessly, and then something happened-an echo-of the past-that made Harry forget everything around himself.

One of the wizards pulled at the bundle of cloth, as the other cackled mercilessly, "Get up, girl! Move aside! This might be your last chance!" and then yelled, "Crucio!" and the woman thrashed around on the ground, screams of pain tearing apart the air it seemed. Harry's mind went into overdrive: another woman standing in front of her babie's cot, hands outstretched, a voice.."Move aside, girl!" and then…."Avada Kedavra!"

Not wasting any more second, Harry ran into the Alley, as the anger inside him simmered violently, crying to be let out. He felt the white-hot flare of anger he had felt in the memory; the anger of Slytherin. Harry closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Then he let the anger reach out, consume his every fibre.

Suddenly, both the blue-clad ad grey-clad groups seemed to check the ferocity of their dueling, as out of nowhere, a miniature emerald storm seemed to pass through the battle with alarming speed, and seemed to stop in front of a pair of wizards torturing a witch holding onto their son. The wizards, sensed the creeping danger too late.

Scarlet slashes burst on one wizard's chest as blood spewed from his mouth in streams as he fell. The other wizard seemed to crumple into himself, sickening crunches sounding as it seemed every single bone in his body was being systematically broken. The horror in his eyes never lost their intensity as he fell on the ground, blood shooting out in torrents from his mouth.

The thunderstruck battling wizards identified the emerald blur as a figure in green robes, whirling through the ranks with fierce speed. The figure ran straight at the grey wizards, and almost fifty spells flew straight at him. Both groups watched, aghast, as he didn't break stride and created a shimmering golden mist which didn't block, but absorbed the volley of spells. Then, in an instant, he was upon the wizards. Spells flew thick and fast from him. Sometimes the red of stupefy, sometimes the sickening yellow of a bone-breaker, sometimes the white of an expulso, sometimes the glaring orange of a blood-boiling curse. Blood spewed, burst forth as cracks of bones breaking and crunches of bodies smashing against each other filled the air. Too stunned, the screams even started a while later, and it curdled the blood of the Aurors watching stunned.

Bodies were thrown apart rapidly against the walls with a sickening crunch; spells flew thick and fast at the emerald intruder, but he seemed to dodge and flick a shield or steer the curses flying at him to other directions; the Aurors seemed hesitated to step into the fray as it was clear that the intruder didn't care for stray curses hitting anyone. Worse still, he hadn't used any Unforgivable. But he didn't need to; the blood-spattered walls seemed to prove that. Even as the Aurors watched, he dodged a hex, jumped over a body and pulled the arm of a wizard over his head as the wizard tried to fire a hex at him, resulting in the mis-directed hex hitting another wizard in grey, bloodstains immediately appearing on his chest as he fell without a sound. The caster was thrown into the wall by a seemingly overpowered stupefy. The emerald stranger reached the very centre of the ranks, a burly wizard throwing hexes with frightening speed and dodging all counter-hexes another set of Aurors, who had appeared behind the group now, was throwing at him. Even as they watched, the emerald wizard ran straight at the burly wizard, emitting a faintly emerald glow. The wizard paused, and then case three Unforgivables in quick succession: an Imperio, followed by a Cruciatus, and a short while after, the Avada Kedavra. The emerald wizard took the Imperio right on his chest, yet broke it without a stride, still running towards the wizard, and just swerved his head, the Crucio sailing past his ear. Just as it seemed the killing curse would hit him, he slowed and bent his knees, in the while stretching down his face so that his upper body was almost parallel to the ground, and just at the moment the green light had passed over him, he reached the wizard, flung two quick diffindos at his legs, each of which seized up and crumpled as it seemed he severed their nerve centres with quick precision.

The emerald wizard stood up and stared at the wizard standing in front of him, on his knees. The wizard stared up with the utmost surprise and growing terror at his emerald enemy. Without hesitation, the emerald wizard flicked his wand, as the wizard slammed into the wall. The emerald wizard marched over to the wizard and held him up by the front of his robes, and spoke in a deadly voice.

"Who sent you?"

"G-Gellert Grindelwald." The man answered, his voice choked by the amount of blood rushing out through his mouth.

"Where is Grindelwald?"the wizard asked.

"D-don't know….got orders of attack from the his generals…."the man choked out.

The wizard stared at him for a moment, then released his hold, letting the man fall to the ground.

"Th-Thank y-you…."the man choked. The wizard whirled back, and again held the man up by his robes.

"You attack and torture a mother and a baby and countless helpless people who cannot even cast a shield charm properly, and you thank me for letting you survive? Rather, thank me that you will not suffer the same fate that those two monsters had to in my hands. You disgust me. Diffindo." The cutting curse slashed across the man's neck, and his body dropped to the ground. The emerald wizard turned to find thirty wands pointed straight at him, not only of the Aurors, but also among them, the wand of Albus Dumbledore, which wasn't an Elder Wand, but a normal yew wand.

The wizard took a step forward, and the wands at him raised further, spells on every lips, ready to be uttered.

"You just saw someone finish those monsters that dared lay a hand on a baby and a mother, and I see you again exercise the folly of pointing a wand at someone who had done your work for you, as ineffectual as you are."

The Aurors said nothing, but the skin around their eyes tightened at the not-so-subtle insult. Just when it seemed that the recent events of a few minutes ago might repeat themselves, Dumbledore spoke.

"Is it ineffectual, to raise thirty wands at a wizard who just took out all of the opposition in his own, and seems to have no mercy to leave any of them alive?"

The wizard spoke, his voice carrying a tone of deadly quiet, "Albus Dumbledore. How very reasonable of you. But I'm afraid my choices do not align with you. If it had been a fight with human beings I would certainly have Stupedfied and bound them." The underlying sarcasm in his voice could be easily detected, "As yet, I had been fighting bastards, cowards and monsters, none of which fit into category of a human being. So, I thought it would be much better if I kept none of them alive."

True to his worth, Dumbledore, only flinched a bit, but didn't take a step back as the Aurors did.

"You are a young man, you forget that we need to interrogate to know who sent them-"

"Grindelwald." The wizard interrupted smoothly." And his whereabouts are still unknown. A pensieve memory would suffice for the evidence. I trust a memory to be more worthy than the life of that groveling coward. I do not see for any more questions on this."

As he turned to go, one of the Aurors shouted, "Wait! You know, you can be arrested for this! You would need to come and testify with us of the battle."

The wizard turned and looked at the Auror.

"How many dead for you?"

"20." The Auror answered.

"And after I came?"

"None."

"Before I came, how many deaths had they?"

"I suppose-five or six?"

"And after I came?"

"Everyone." The Auror shivered.

"Then you see, that wasn't a battle. That was what people call massacre. That is what should go to the records as a truth. And….arrest? Well, I am a Pureblood Lord, I welcome you to come and arrest me, on grounds of never casting an Unforgivable on a battlefield, taking out threats to my life, and doing the world some good."

The Aurors fell silent. Dumbledore cleared his throat. He thought, the stranger was clad in scarlet robes, he must be of Gryffindor-sided Lords then? Has one of the Houses returned? Could he be light? Best to ask him…

"Pardon," Dumbledore called, as the wizard turned to him, "You say you're a Lord. May we know which House are you of?"

The wizard smiled a strange smile. Then he looked and his robes and tutted to himself. "You must forgive me," he said, "My robes…..are too bloody for me, and my House. Granddad would be amused at the color, though." Then he moved his wand over his robes and said, "Scourgify."

Immediately, the scarlet cleared off, and left the robes a gleaming, emerald green, as emerald as the wizard's eyes that were suddenly gleaming. Proud designs of a Serpent could be seen stretched on the robes over his arms. Behind Dumbledore, the entire Auror corps gasped. They had heard rumors, but had not suspected….while Dumbledore himself seemed to have lost the maddening twinkle in his eyes, as he gaped at the stranger.

"I suppose you don't know me," the wizard said, "Oh well, the wizengamot meeting's on Saturday. How will you know me? Silly of me! They call me Harold." He turned to Dumbledore, "Harold Slytherin, the Lord of the House of Slytherin."

And as whisperings broke out over the Alley, Harry turned on the spot, and vanished with a crack.