Another chapter for you, my darlings! Thank you all so much for all of your reviews! I absolutely love reading them! (And thank you, of course, for putting up with my painfully slow updating. Life tends to get in the way… I may go months without updating, but rest assured that I will update eventually!)

Okay, so having trouble with translating some things correctly. I'll try to still use translated words occasionally, but I'll write everything in English while making note of what is actually being spoken in another language. Make sense? Oh… and so I was doing some more in depth research and found out that the Founders probably would have spoken Pictish rather than Scottish Gaelic, though they would have known Scottish Gaelic as it was the court language so to speak. Oh, my goodness it's all so confusing. Oh, and written language probably would have been Latin. So:

"Old Norse is in italics."

"Pictish is in italics and bolded."

'Scottish Gaelic is bold and is quoted with apostrophes.'

"Written Latin is underlined and in italics."

"Parseltongue is underlined."

'Fawkes speaking is in italics and is quoted with apostrophes.'

If any other languages pop up over the course of the story, I will make note of it as well. I will also post this key at the beginning of following chapters to make it easier to remember. (This list is getting quite long…)

Last time:

Taking a deep breath, Salazar patted Grani's neck. "We have a long journey still… let us get going, Grani." He straightened before snapping the reins. Grani reared before leaping forward and they were off down the path like a wind, ghostly hooves flashing alongside living ones.

Chapter Eleven

((Hogwarts – Past))

"Yes, yes! I am coming! Wait just a moment!" Rowena called out at the banging on her door. Little one year old Helena was playing on the floor with a doll, but did not seem to give the knocking any mind. More than just a little harried, Rowena opened up the door before her mouth dropped open in shock. "Godric? Oh, thank the gods… When you stopped sending letters, I was so worried!" She said in a rush even as she surveyed the haggard man standing at her door. "Will you come in?" She stepped aside with the intention to let him in, but stopped when Godric shook his head.

The weary faced man held out a small bundle he was holding in his hands. Rowena took it curiously before gasping softly when a soft mewling came from within the soft cloth. Godric gently pushed the blanket aside to reveal the face of a barely month old child. "Meet Salazar Gryffindor," he spoke softly. "This is my son. Please, Rowena, you must care for him in my stead. His mother was taken from him by childbirth, his very existence a result of one night of passion. I still have not found Salazar yet, Rowena. I cannot return until I have found my brother, but it is not a journey I can bring a small child on. You have a child yourself and I have no idea what to do. Please raise my son, Rowena."

"Godric," Rowena started warily, her eyes never leaving the face of the small boy that had a shock of bright red hair that was so like his father's. "A child should not grow up without their parents… if you say he has already lost his mother, then he cannot lose his father as well."

Godric adjusted his cloak with a puzzled frown. "You speak as if I will never return, Rowena. Please… it will just be for a little while. I feel as if I am so close! You will see! I will bring Salazar back to us, just you wait!" He gave a wide smile, just a hint of madness in his eyes. Rowena feared that Godric was driving himself to insanity over this fruitless search for their poor friend. Perhaps it was best that she did raise Godric's child. It was the least she could do if the man would not listen to reason and then, at the very least, she could ensure that little Salazar was raised in a safe home.

Giving a put upon sigh, Rowena gave a short nod. "Yes, of course, Godric. Please do remember to at least visit the boy, would you?" She fussed with the blanket wrapped around the sleeping boy before settling her gaze back on Godric. The man gave a dismissive nod and turned away, not even bothering to stay. But he had barely made it a short distance down the corridor when he paused in his step.

"Oh, Rowena… I found the reason for our heinous crime against Sal." He turned his head, but did not pivot to face her once more. "It was an enchantment placed upon our minds, insidious and manipulative. A filthy piece of magic of the darkest magics, magic even Salazar would turn his back on. It turned us against dear Salazar, placed upon us by his very brother who was jealous and wanted Salazar's attention for his own. When Salazar defeated Cayden… the enchantment broke. But it was far too late."

Godric was gone before Rowena could summon up a response.

((Present Day – Hogwarts))

Once he reached the Great Hall, Salazar drew in a great breath before pushing open the doors. The school would be assembled for the midday meal now, but it could not be helped. His news was urgent and needed to be brought to Dumbledore immediately. Voldemort may have lost his ability to speak with serpents, though it appeared he was trying to ignore this fact, but he was no less dangerous. Parsel magic would be beyond his grasp now, but the man had delved into some very heavy magic. If he found the sword… it might very well spell the end for all of them.

Stepping into the Hall, Salazar was met by a brief lull in conversation as the children turned to see who had entered. The din returned louder than before as they all seemed to whisper about him. Salazar caught snippets as he strode towards the front.

"…said he was on some sort of pilgrimage…"

"…in Merlin's name is he wearing?..."

"…weird that he would leave so soon into the new school year…"

Salazar stepped up in front of the staff table. He could see Luna sharing a grim smile so he nodded to her in recognition before leveling his gaze on the Headmaster. "Eolas, my dear boy, I'm glad to see you have returned," the man greeted him for he could speak.

Salazar grimaced. "Please call me Herrick, if you would Headmaster. Eolas was the name of my father's familiar. I do not know what possessed him to name me after the creature. Einar has reminded me of why I prefer his name for me rather than my father's, and that it is fine for me to use it over the other." A lie and somewhat of a truth. Just what had possessed him to use the name of his familiar for his own? He was normally so much more eloquent under pressure. But pondering this was neither the time, nor the place.

"Headmaster, I need to request a private conversation with you and your Order," he spoke in a grave tone, his voice hushed so it would not carry far. "I have learned some disturbing news while on my journey. I believe time to be of the utmost importance."

Dumbledore regarded Salazar before he stood. "Very well. If you would follow me to my office then, dear boy. Minerva, if you would see to it that the others are gathered."

When they arrived at the Headmaster's office, the man offered Salazar tea and small sandwiches brought by a house elf. Salazar accepted and made small talk with the headmaster until the others arrived, refusing to speak of his journey until all had gathered. He ignored Black's heavy glare. As more and more members of the Order arrived, Dumbledore opened a hidden panel in one of the bookcases. It opened a secret door that led into a meeting hall where they all settle comfortably. "Just why are we here, Albus?" This was Black, of course.

Salazar stood from his seat to draw attention. "I know many of you denounce the Old Ways," he started out. "I am not here to argue beliefs. I only want you all to understand that many myths and legends come from truth. It came to my awareness that there were disturbing rumors from the North. So I followed these rumors to Helheim, one of the Northmen's realms of the dead. It is not a journey I wish to repeat."

"So you believe in blood supremacy?" Black cut in harshly.

Salazar leveled a dark look at the man. "Are we still on about this, Black? I have said nothing of the sort. Please refrain from bringing this up again and again, especially in front of others. You may not like me, but I in no way support the Dark Lord Tom Riddle."

Black snarled much like a dog would. "Even so… Voldemort has taken the Ministry, most of the English Isles, and you found it prudent to gallivant off on a trip! How are we not to know that it was a trip taken for…"

Salazar cut him off by slamming his hand against the table. "You will be silent and hear me out, Sirius Black," he hissed out, barely keeping himself from slipping into parseltongue. He straightened then and cleared his throat. "Forgive me." He allowed his expression to relax then, turning his gaze to each of the assembled witches and wizards. "I was told of rumors that spoke of the Dark Lord being seen about in the Northern Lands. So, I traveled to the village of Fyrkat, a wizarding community in the North. I followed the Dark Lord's trail to Helheim. I never once saw him, but witnessed what he left in his wake."

He sat back down then, feeling suddenly weary. The path between realms had drained him and he felt as if it were sheer will that kept him conscious. "I met with Hel. She cares little for what lies beyond her borders. The trials of the living, in her own words. I was able to bargain with her."

Dumbledore had a shrewd look in his eyes, his aged face otherwise carrying a gentle expression. "What did you bargain with her?" Salazar could only guess that Dumbledore, for all that he did not encourage the practice of the old religions, did understand some of the myths. So he chose his words carefully.

"What my bargain with the Goddess of Death is my own to bare. However, I did give her the knowledge that a man who fled from death had entered her realm, that not even the gods could See his plans. Little escapes her for those who have passed into her borders. She knew what he wished to seek, but little else. She accepted my bargain and pointed me on the path to a man by the name of Angantyr Heidreksson." Salazar closed his eyes briefly, his brow creasing. "Nastrond. The Corpse Shores… that is the translation, but hardly accurate. Nastrond is where Nidhoggr feasts upon the spiritual bodies of the dead. It is not a pleasing place to be."

Black snorted and leaned an elbow against the table before sneering at Salazar. "What a fantastical story. Just where are you going with this?"

Salazar shot the man a displeased look. "Would you care for more detail? Would you care to know how I found Angantyr? How the flesh had been ripped from his bones, that his skull bore a macabre half grin with its one missing eye? How he moved with the creaking of old bones? Would you care to watch the memory, Black?" The man in question gave him a dark look in response, the others around them looking a little green. Salazar turned his head away. "I thought not." He took a breath to steady himself then before giving Dumbledore a grim look. "The Dark Lord seeks the sword Tyrfing," he said gravely. The only reaction he received from the others were confused murmurings.

Giving an exasperated sigh, Salazar pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wizards of this age… I swear," he murmured under his breath. "It is lore that there was a king by the name of Svafrlami. He managed to capture two dwarves, Dvalinn and Durin. He forced them then to forge him a magnificent sword. But, in revenge, they cursed it. While the sword is said to gleam like fire and has a golden hilt that no other can match, it was cursed to kill a man each time that it was drawn and would be used in three evils. The curses on the sword have since been broken as the three evils have been passed, but it is still a magical sword of great power. The blade will never miss its mark. It will ever rust, as well as cut easily through stone and iron. While in the hands of a wizard, I have no doubt also that it can be used to channel greater magic."

He frowned then. "It is key that we find this sword before the Dark Lord does. Angantyr was the last known wielder. He likely gave the Dark Lord the same information, so we must work quickly. According to Angantyr, he placed the sword in a stone coffer in the forest of Murkwood. I have no doubt that the names have since changed, but it will give us a place to start."

One of the Order members, a witch, suddenly snorted. "Oh, you really must be joking now! Dvalinn? Durin? Murkwood? Those are all names from the Lord of the Rings!"

"I beg your pardon?" Salazar said slowly.

The witch rolled her eyes and waved one of her hands dismissively. "A muggle author wrote a series of books. I read them as a child. All fictional characters!" She scoffed then and stood up. "You are wasting our time when we could be devoting it to actually trying to figure out how to defeat You-Know-Who." She sniffed at him then and turned her head. "And I thought only Deatheaters called him the Dark Lord."

Salazar slowly stood back up. "It seems silly to call a mere man by something as asinine as you-know-who. But to use his name is to trigger the usage of the Taboo. He is a mad man, yes. But he is strong and not to be taken lightly." He looked down his nose at the short witch. "The use of his assumed title removes the use of his name. Perhaps in future generations it will be forgotten completely. And after all, not many know the man's birth name."

"If I may…" a voice cut in after a brief silence, the witch red in the face. She did not seem any happier when she realized that it was Malfoy who was speaking. The pale man looked as if he had seen better days, but he held his head up proudly. Long blond hair was pulled back properly without a hair out of place and his robes were immaculate. It was certainly a far cry from the state he had first met the wizard. But the young man had a thin face and deep bags beneath his eyes, his eyes themselves weary. Draco Malfoy. Salazar had not encountered the man often during his short time in the school, his only interaction was the incident where he swore an Oath to not speak of Malfoy's duties. But as a Deatheater spy, he did not suppose that the man would get along well with the other Order members.

"You speak of going to Helheim, Evans. How long was your journey?" Malfoy said then, his gaze turning to Salazar. Said man slid back into his seat.

Salazar took a moment to gather himself before responding. "The journey took nine nights into the realm and nine nights to return. In total, my journey has lasted twenty one days altogether." It was a long time to be away and he could only imagine just what his students thought of him for taking such a long absence.

Malfoy inclined his head. "In the days after he called upon us in his rage, the Dark Lord suddenly disappeared. There was unease as no one heard from him in the same number of days as Evans. Just a few days ago, he called for us again." His face looked pained as he turned his eyes towards the Headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore knows this. At the meeting, he seemed gleeful but would not tell us what. He is planning something, that much is for sure."

Black scoffed softly. "Much use you are." There were murmurs of agreement, some more scathing than others.

Salazar narrowed his eyes. "Only the Dark Lord knows his own mind. But what Malfoy tells us is that there is some truth to my words. The Dark Lord spent time away, no one knew where he had gone. He has found information that he was looking for and it is my belief that it is a lead on the whereabouts of a powerful magical weapon." He hardened his voice then, speaking grimly. "That is not the point, however. The point is thus: whether or not you believe me is up to your own minds. But if I speak the truth and he does seek out Tyrfing, then where will we be if he does find it because you all sat on your seats and did nothing?" He was nearly hissing by the end of his speech.

The man stood then, sweeping his cloak to the side. "Now. I have given you my report. My plan is to retire to my rooms and have a hot bath, a hot meal, and rest. On the morrow, I then plan to look into everything I can get my hands on about Tyrfing. Any one of you are welcome to join me. Good day." He turned on his heel sharply and stalked out the door. He hated being so volatile, but lack of adequate rest had seen to that. Still, he hoped his point had come across at the very least.

"Herrick!" Salazar glanced over his shoulder to see Malfoy striding after him. He paused long enough for the younger man to catch up with him before Malfoy gave a short bow. "I never had the chance to thank you," the pale haired wizard said as he straightened. "You have my thanks for both the potion and the Oath." A hint of a knowing smile played about the man's lips.

"I have no idea what you refer to," Salazar said lightly. The Oath was worded specifically. Dumbledore might be placated, but there were always loopholes. Malfoy seemed to understand this, but did not seem overly concerned. But then, the young man lived as a spy. Salazar looked Malfoy over then with a critical eye. "But why then continue upon this path? Why return to his side when your position is so precarious?"

Malfoy was quiet for a moment before he gave a grim smile. "Because I must. What else is there for me? My parents are dead because of my failures and because that mad man lost control of his temper. If nothing else, I will see that monster dead for what he has done to my family."

"You are a Slytherin, are you not? Even in war they are self-serving. There is a time for what is right… but humans are never perfect." Salazar paused then before turning away again. "I doubt you can show your face readily anywhere… so if you need a place of solitude for even a few moments, my room is open to you. Simply ask for a house elf and they'll lead you to my door." He could not speak about Malfoy's character yet and if he would be a valuable acquaintance… but the man was a spy in Riddle's fold. Malfoy might just have some value, might speak more readily with him than with Dumbledore who was a blatantly Light wizard.

He spared one last glance over his shoulder as he disappeared around the corner, smirking to himself when he saw the surprised look frozen on Malfoy's face. He allowed himself a chuckle, then focused on his path to a bath and his bed.

((Page Break))

A crash of thunder woke Salazar from his well-earned rest. "Thor…" he grumbled in a half awake state, throwing his arm over his eyes. He had started to drift back into sleep again, but another cascading clash of thunder jolted him back into wakefulness. Salazar hissed out a curse and rolled over, climbing out of bed. He threw a tunic on over his bare chest and quietly padded over to the magical window that looked out over the grounds even with his true position in the dungeons. It was currently enchanted to give him a view of the front gate. The rain and darkness of the night shielded his view, so he moved to turn away. A flash of lightning lit up the sky suddenly though, illuminating two figures before the gates with one leaning heavily against the other.

Spurred into action, Salazar dragged on his boots and grabbed his cloak. His wand holster was secured onto his forearm and he dashed from the room. As he ran, he slipped his wand into his hand and conjured up a small paper bird. He pointed his wand to his throat then and spoke, "Headmaster, there are two unknowns just outside the castle wards. I am on my way to intercept them now." He flicked his wand at the bird then to send his message off to Dumbledore.

As he ran, two men suddenly blocked his way and made him skid to a halt. Lupin looked vaguely apologetic and uncomfortable at least while Black appeared thunderous. The man even had his wand out, clenched in his hand. "I still do not trust you. Where are you going in such a hurry this late at night? Your master summon you?"

Salazar tsked in annoyance, his eyes flashing with silver light in his ire. "My room offers a view of the front gate. Two stand there before them, one perhaps injured if their stance if to be believed. Come see the truth for your own eyes if you must, but do not hinder me!" His harsh tone seemed to surprise Black enough for Salazar to slip past the two men. As he continued his dash through the halls, the wizard and werewolf fell into step on either side of him.

"Should we not notify Albus?" Lupin said he ran beside Salazar.

Barely sparring him a glance, Salazar gave a sharp nod. "I have already sent him a message." It was a spell that Rowena had crafted as a way to quickly send messages within the castle. Throwing open the doors to the entrance hell then, Salazar quickly cast a spell over his cloak to keep off the drenching rain. As they neared the gate minutes later, Salazar could make out the form of what looked like Zabini leaning heavily against a large grizzled man. Pale moonlit eyes glowed eerily as they watched their approach warily, nearly hidden beneath a matted nest of silver hair. A wolfish grin greeted Salazar as lightning streaked across the sky, lighting the area as if it was daytime.

"Oh… Is Ragnarok come, father? Are you released from your chains and come to release me from mine, Loki?" The man laughed roughly before coughing.

Salazar narrowed his eyes, but could not respond as the two wizards behind him were already responding to their visitors with rage. Even the gentle wolf Lupin was finally showing his metaphorical claws. His amber eyes were glowing in the dim light, his face awash with anger. "Greyback… what the hell are you doing here?" He snarled, sounding more animal than human.

Black tightened his hold on his wand, though he glanced at Salazar. "And what is your connection to him?"

"I do not know the man, Black… or are you a wolf and not a man, stranger?" Salazar responded as he turned his gaze to regard the grizzled man carefully. "You liken me to Loki… so that would make you Fenrir, the great wolf. But what do you know of Ragnarok?" He was wary of the madness in the eyes of the wolf. He did not look to poison himself with the wolfsbane that Lupin did, but there was a sheen of illness to Greyback's eyes. Was Greyback even in his right mind?

Greyback barked out a laugh, making Zabini groan and drop his head where he leaned against Greyback's side. "The Dark Lord seeks to bring about Ragnarok. Perhaps not to the gods, but certainly what we might liken to it. He has gone mad… far from the man I once knew. He promised my Kin equality and a place, but now all he seeks is death."

Salazar gave a sharp nod and drew his own wand. "You will be taken to the dungeon infirmary and interrogated," he declared. "Zabini will be taken to the infirmary for Madame Pomphrey to look over, if you would, Black. Lupin and I can take care of Greyback, can we not?"

"You will forgive me, my boy, but I have never heard of an infirmary being within the dungeons.. Though I will agree that Mr. Greyback must not be allowed to escape." It was Dumbledore's voice, though Salazar did not turn to greet the man. Black and Lupin remained unmoved.

"Black! See to it that Zabini is taken to the infirmary lest his death be on your hands!" He snapped, but Black still looked for Dumbledore's consent before he finally took Zabini from Greyback's grasp.

"He is Bitten," Greyback rumbled as Black drew Zabini away with stumbling steps from the bleeding man. "It was the only way to save his life." Lupin snarled at that, but remained where he was when Dumbledore laid a hand on his shoulder. Greyback gave a chuckle that ended in a cough. "Regardless of what you think of me, cub, he gave his permission." He turned his gaze towards Dumbledore then, his movements lethargic. "I request asylum, Headmaster. I'll tell you everything you want to know." The grizzled wolf collapsed then.

Salazar flicked his want to levitate Greyback before he hit the ground. "As Slytherin Head of House, Headmaster, it gives me domain over the dungeon halls. In my wanders, cells were revealed to me on the lowest level through a secret door. Greyback will be secure there as I tested the wards myself. I had elves clean the rooms and stock the small infirmary in the occasion it was ever necessary. I had not yet had the opportunity to bring it to your attention."

Dumbledore gave a serene smile, though Salazar could see the stern lines around the old man's eyes. "Very well. Lead the way then, Herrick, my boy."

With Lupin's help, Salazar managed to get Greyback down to the lower dungeons. "It is named the Nechtan Ward," Salazar said as he motioned towards a plaque above the door. "It was sealed off, but activated when I, by chance, pressed against a brick that I noticed a carving of the Hogwarts crest." The cells here had been leftover from Rowena's father's ownership of the castle. They had decided to make use of it, in the occurrence that it was ever needed. None of them had hoped it would ever come to that, but was there in case the need ever did arise. The Ward contained only five cells and a small room that they had set aside use for as an infirmary. It was useful now as he did not want to bring Greyback to the larger infirmary where is could put the students at risk.

In fact, Lupin's grip on his wand was so great that Salazar thought he might snap the wood. Just what history between the two had warranted such a reaction? He shook away the thoughts as he directed Greyback onto the infirmary bed. He flicked his wand then and swirled it in a tight clockwise circle, mumbling beneath his breath. Coloured lights rose from the wolf's prone form and Salazar frowned as he observed them. "Acute silver poisoning alongside high exposure to aconite. Sheer force of will kept him on his feet, I suspect," he informed Dumbledore who was watching quietly nearby. "I can heal him, but he will be unconscious for some time, Headmaster. Once healed, I will place him in one of the cells. He will not be able to leave unless purposefully released."

Dumbledore gave a pensive nod. "Very well. I will go check on our young Mr. Zabini then. Remus, if you would stay behind to keep watch… but we will likely need your help with our new werewolf." After a grunted agreement from Lupin, Dumbledore took his leave.

"With respect to you, Master Lupin… I do not believe you would be the right choice in guiding newly Bitten Zabini," Salazar said as he strode purposefully over to the potions cupboard. He opened one of the many drawers and pulled out a flushing potion. He inspected it carefully before striding back over to Greyback, uncorking the potion as he went.

Lupin gave him a harsh look, a darker sort of emotion than he had seen directed from the man. "What are you implying, Evans?" There was a faint growl to his words and his eyes still glowed with the power of the wolf buried inside. The man's anger was helping the wolf to fight through the poison keeping it caged. But Salazar barely spared Lupin a glance.

Vanishing Greyback's ratty shirt, Salazar pressed his wand against the man's chest and started to pour the potion. He whispered a spell as he did so, the potion seeping into Greyback's skin. Once the bottle was empty, Salazar set the bottle aside. "How old were you when you were Bitten, Lupin?"

"I was five years old when Greyback snuck into my room and bit me in revenge against my father Lyall," Lupin snarled, spitting out Greyback's name. "I spent years being sent to various healers who tried to cure my… my condition, but obviously they always failed."

Salazar glanced up at Lupin before swiftly gathering another potion. "I cannot speak for his actions… but have you ever met with other wolves? Have you ever spent time in a pack, or have you ever only been raised in the Wizard's views of wolves?"

"What would you know?" Lupin said harshly, his hand twitching in an aborted motion to raise his wand.

Spelling another potion into Greyback, Salazar did not respond right away. Monitoring the progress of the flushing potion, Salazar did not even look up at Lupin. "Do you know what Aconite does to wolves? It is fatal… especially in high doses, though low doses alone can cause illness. You have been dosing yourself with the Wolfsbane potion, have you not? It is a recent invention, according to my research, and its use is encouraged by the Ministry of Magic."

"And it is the only way to control the wolf!" Lupin countered back with another snarl, his hand twitching again. Salazar sent him a disdainful look before turning his attention back to Greyback. The flushing potion was working slowly, but it still hindered the numerous lacerations on the man's body.

Opening a jar of salve, Salazar used a spell to disinfect his hands and then scooped up some of the creamy salve to spread over the worst of the lacerations. "Does it ease the pain of your transformation? Does it temper your inner wolf?" He glanced up at Lupin briefly again. "Or does it make the pain worse? Does it make you keep your own mind by caging the wolf, but dulls your senses?"

Lupin reached out and grabbed onto the front of Salazar's tunic, dragging him away from his task. "What the hell are you talking about?" He growled, a far cry from the mild mannered man that Salazar had originally met.

Brushing off Lupin's grip, Salazar turned back to Greyback and smeared on more salve before corking the bottle closed. "What I am saying is… the wolfsbane potion is slowly killing you. You may not want to hear it because of the way you were raised, but it would be of great benefit for you to accept your wolf." He grabbed some bandages from a cabinet and started to wrap the worst of Greyback's slowly healing wounds. "Being a werewolf does not make you a monster. It does not make you a killer." He gave Lupin a stern look. "I met a pack once. They could change shape at will, not at the whim of the moon. It will always have a call to your nature… but it would not have to govern you."

After tying off the last bandage, Salazar used his wand to levitate Greyback into one of the cells. He set a monitoring spell before locking the door behind him. It was then that he gave his full focus to Lupin. The man did not look much calmer. He strode towards the cabinet and plucked out a vial from one of the drawers. He held it out to Lupin. "A calming draught. Drink." He refused to budge until Lupin had grudgingly accepted the draught and had downed it. "Now then. I do not expect you to enjoy everything that I have to say… but I intend it only to be a seed. What you do with it is up to you."

He started to clean up then, feeling Lupin's eyes on him. "It is hard to say where the first wolves came from. There is conflicting lore. Some say a curse from man, some say a gift from the gods." He sank down onto the only other bed in the room and rubbed at his eyes. "I believe, too, that there are even different species of werewolves. But the one thing that is true for all… your inner wolf might be described as a separate entity, but it is not. In reality, your inner wolf can be more described as the manifestation of your instincts."

"All I can recommend is that you think about it," Salazar said "I would have suggested too if you spoke with a pack, but that perhaps would best wait until after the war is settled."

Lupin bared his teeth in a snarl. "Maybe Sirius is right not to trust you. Maybe you really are a Dark wizard."

Salazar gave him a sharp look. "What should it matter on how my Core draws on magic? Your own is Dark oriented because of your condition, as you said it. If I really were a Dark wizard, it would be highly hypocritical of you to condemn me." The calming draught had calmed much of Lupin's anger, but the man was still plenty furious. He stormed towards the doors. "Lupin! Do not think of the wolf as a separate entity. It is you! The manifestation of your soul!" The door slammed shut behind the wolf and Salazar released a sigh.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Salazar laid back on the bed. The monitoring spell would alert him if anything happened. And the children did not have class the next day so he could sleep if he wished. It seemed like a very decent idea.

He was woken sudden late he next morning by the soft chiming of the monitoring spell. Not used o sleeping so late, he stumbled to his feet in a confused daze. He was only finally able to shake away the last webs of sleep when he turned his gaze into Greyback's cell. The werewolf was slowly sitting up. His eyes appeared clearer and his movements were not so stiff.

Quickly conjuring up a paper bird, Salazar then pressed his wand against his throat. "Our guest is awake, Headmaster." He then sent off the bird.

"Loki," Fenrir spoke with a hint of a wry smile, his silver eyes finding Salazar's through the bars.

Salazar gave a bland smile in return that did not quite reach his eyes. "I see you were not so far out of your mind with fever that it made you forgetful. Even so, I would prefer the name Herrick over Loki. It is not the connotation I would like while surrounded by fools." He received a gravely chuckle in answer, but nothing more. "But then… now you are surrounded by the same fools, but at the least I am not the one in a cell."

"Has anyone ever called you Silvertongue?" Fenrir said as he slowly climbed to his feet and stubbornly crossed the distance to the door.

Salazar narrowed his eyes. "You cling to strange notions."

Greyback chuckled, wrapping his hands around the bars of the cell to support himself. "My family line is said to trace back all the way to the first Fenrir himself. We have stories that are passed down, father to son. Always sons. And you, Herrick, strike a fair resemblance to the father of my many times great grandfather." He tilted his head to the side. "But I will concede in the name of plausible alliances. To answer your prodding… The Dark Lord once made promises. The Wizarding World is losing its culture. Balance has been lost because of changing ideologies. Magical creatures have lost rights. The blame for all of this was placed upon the mundane born among us. Perhaps it does contain a grain of truth with the new ideas they have brought in, but it does not earn them the fate which he plans to dole out to them. Still, the Dark Lord once had a quicksilver tongue and charisma. He appealed to the unease amongst the Purebloods. Whether he once believed what he once promised, or he hid his true motives, I cannot say. What is true is that his mind is now gone to madness. His leverage over me… no matter its worth, I cannot hold my tongue against evil and hold truce any longer."

Salazar regarded Greyback carefully. "And his leverage against you?"

Greyback was silent, staring down at the shorter man though Salazar stood tall in his own right. Finally, he inclined his head. "My sons. Shortly before they were to be born, the Dark Lord showed his madness. When I tried to denounce him, they were stolen from me still in their birthing blood. My mate was killed when she was too weak from birthing to protect them. I have never held them, never seen them in person. I was given the ultimatum of my loyalty in exchange for their lives. Even now… once he learns of my betrayal, he will have them killed. It is a high price, but one I will carry with me in exchange for the chance to bring about the Dark Lord's defeat."

"What are their names?" Salazar asked after a moment.

A hint of a smile broke the grim expression of Greyback's face. "Hati and Skoll, of course. What better namesakes than that of the sons of Fenrir?" For all the seriousness of the situation, Salazar could not stop a brief eye roll. But then, in times of duress it was only natural that individuals turned to certain things for comfort. Perhaps, for Greyback, it was this. He would not call it faith, but if it was that Greyback's to be kept private.

"He who chases the Sun and he who chases the Moon," a third voice cut in and Salazar turned his head to see that it was Luna. She gave a starry smile. "Both live and plot. Both will stand to their named grandfather's aid." She gave Salazar a significant look. He scowled in reply.

"Again with that nonsense." He had brushed aside the rambling of fever, but now they fell from the lips of a seer. Just what had he been forced into now?

Luna tilted her head, a mysterious smile on her lips. "Cerrnunos Hunts in the forests. Cerridwen stirs her Cauldron and the Morrigan visits battle still. But it is the Aesir and those of their Realms that have their eye on us." She touched Salazar's shoulder. "Loki is neither good nor evil. He is Chaos and Mischief. You might speak to Odin and he listens, but it is Loki who smiles."

"It is Loki who brings Ragnarok," he said lowly. Greyback watched them with interest, but said nothing.

Luna gave Salazar a rather placating smile now. "Loki's destiny is always to bring Ragnarok upon the Realms, yes. Not even the other gods of Midgard can escape. But then the Universe is reborn, it rebuilds, and ends once more with Ragnarok. But Ragnarok is not upon us yet, and Loki knows its time. He will not bring it early." She kissed his cheek then. "And has it not fallen to Loki to right the wrongs often of his own creation?"

Salazar stiffened, the silver in his eyes glinting against the emerald. "You cannot be blaming this war on me," he hissed.

Smiling indulgently, Luna placed her hand against Salazar's cheek and ran a thumb over his bearded jaw. "This war would have happened with you or without you. Throughout the turning of the universe, there are points that always happen. And in the universes where magic exists… there is always this war. In some, you are not who you are. In others, you fall to darker paths." She patted his cheek then, ignoring his sneer. "In our Universe… your adoption of your brother allowed for him to gain the power he needed to pass it down to a mentally unstable boy who would use the family Magick for his own ends."

She turned to Fenrir then. "He is Loki. He is Salazar. He is Herrick. He is the Man displaced of Time. And you will do well to keep it to yourself for now." She held up a hand to Salazar to stop his protest. "Fenrir Greyback has hands bathed in blood, but he is essential. So are his sons." She tilted her head back then and looked over to Salazar with a cryptic smile. "He will not speak and you will free his sons, Loki. Your grandsons by name."

"My life was complicated enough without your presence," Salazar responded stonily. His expression was just as rigid, hiding the tumultuous thoughts beneath. "With you I will end up spending more time outside of Hogwarts than I will actually be able to teach my students and protect them." Luna only giggled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"You will free Hati and Skoll, but the time is not right yet. Plans must be made and even I do not know their location. But the Headmaster approaches, so we will need speak of this at a later time," Luna said airily before walking away, looking as if her feet barely touched the ground. Salazar had to fight back the urge to bang his head against the bars of the cell, but knew better than to get in reaching distance of Greyback's grasp.

Greyback rasped out a chuckle then, his silvery eyes running over Salazar's rigid form. "Liesmith," he whispered with a rumbling hum. "I know better than to speak out against the words of a seer. I will keep your secrets and instead share with you mine." Salazar was unable to snap back a reply as the door opened and the Headmaster finally made his appearance.

The old man gave Greyback a smile that crinkled his eyes, but did not quite chip away the ice that his eyes seemed to have become. Salazar held back a shiver. He would reserve judgement, but it was wise to be wary. The Headmaster has earned his old age for a reason. "I see Herrick has worked his magic," Dumbledore's voice broke through Salazar's thoughts, the tone lightly joking. At least the man was using his preferred name.

Leaning more heavily against the bars, Greyback gave a wolfish grin. "Aye," he responded shortly, offering nothing else.

"I think we ought to cut straight to the chase then, Mr. Greyback. Just why are you here?" Dumbledore said the words pleasantly, but there was an underlying edge that Salazar could just make out. Greyback seemed to sense the same as his expression became grim.

"The Dark Lord has completely lost his mind. He uses fear and manipulation to keep his Death Eaters in line. The Dark Mark is a leash, though I was fortunate to evade that tether." Greyback frowned. "He has my sons, used them to keep me in line. Everything I have done under his hand was to keep my sons safe. But now… they will die anyways if that madman is not stopped. He rants about genocide, the complete annihilation of muggles and muggleborns. If he succeeds, the entire world will fall to ruin. I may not be a good man, but I am not an evil one. I do not want to see this world fall to ruin. So I am willing to swear an Oath to provide my knowledge and my strength. But only if you allow me to swear it to Herrick."

Salazar tried not to visibly give in to his surprise. "Why your condition?" He spoke calmly instead, an eyebrow cocked.

Giving a toothy smile, Greyback leaned more heavily against the bars. "I will not trade my leash from a self-proclaimed Dark Lord for one the masses call a Light Lord. But you. I will place my trust in you."

Dumbledore had that damn twinkle in his eye again, but Salazar chose to ignore it. The Headmaster would not be able to get past his mind shields, though all the man really was trying to do was skim surface emotions. A manufactured empathy in plainer terms. All Dumbledore would sense would be his surprise and not the hundreds of other calculating thoughts. He had no doubt that the old man could search deeper if he wanted to, but Dumbledore already toed the line of breech of privacy. Although it was a useful skill, and certainly not one Dumbledore seemed the type to use. Its one downfall was how adept one might be at mind shields as he could hide the emotions he did not want to project. Yet, in this day and age, it certainly did not seem to be a skill oft taught. He might have to bring it up to his students.

"I will accept if you are in agreement, Headmaster," Salazar spoke after a moment. He might not fully trust Greyback, but he trusted that Luna knew something she was not telling. Greyback seemed to be a part in it, minor or otherwise was yet to be determined.

But Dumbledore only gave a polite smile. "We shall see, Mr. Greyback. For now you shall stay here and a house elf will bring you meals. Perhaps we shall have more questions for you later." The man turned dismissively and disappeared down the short corridor.

"Does the man always wear a vibrant tapestry? Does he truly enjoy such eccentricity or is it a plot to blind his opponents?" Greyback grumbled as he drew away from the cell door, then dropped his hulking frame on the cot.

Salazar tried to hide a smile, turning away. "Missy," he called out then and one of the house elves popped up. She looked up at him with big eyes, ringing her hands in her little tea towel dress, but didn't say anything. Salazar let his expression gentle a little and he bent down. "Missy, can you retrieve a meal for Greyback, if you would? I recommend rare red meat if you can, as well as some vegetables. Please keep the oils to a minimum." He gave the little creature a smile before straightening. "See to it that he receives filling steady meals."

"Missy would be honoured!" The house elf squealed before disappearing with a pop.

Straightened, Salazar strode into the other room to grab a bottle. He then brought it to Greyback's cell and placed it on the ledge of the window. "Here. Take it with your meal when Missy brings it. It will help with flushing out the residual effects of the poisoning." He turned on his heel and left then, closing the hidden door behind him.

Pausing briefly, Salazar glanced to the side. "Eolas. Watch over him. Alert me if he tries anything," he said softly, his familiar appearing from the shadows. Once Eolas had hissed his approval and had disappeared, Salazar strode purposefully down the hall. He had a man to see in the infirmary. He would not admit to himself that he was worried about Zabini… well, maybe only slightly.

((Page Break))

Salazar entered the infirmary later to see Madam Pomfrey standing at a cloth divider near a metal framed bed. No students were in the room that he could see, and it appeared that the bed she stood next to was the only one occupied. He could assume it was Zabini, though could always ask Pomfrey about it if he ended up being incorrect. But as he approached, he was displeased to find that while it really was Zabini in the bed, Lupin stood at the bedside.

"You do not have to worry at all, Mr. Zabini. Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey can provide you with the Wolfsbane potion," Lupin was saying in a gentle voice. Zabini's face looked pinched though, his now amber eyes narrowed in distaste. Salazar quickly stepped in, clearing his throat to announce his presence. Lupin expression darkened after momentary surprise and he looked to be fighting back a snarl. Zabini actually looked relieved, though Salazar could only hazard a guess why.

"Lycanthropy is not a disease to be treated," he said, smoothly ignoring the light growl that slipped from Lupin. Pomfrey huffed, eyeing Salazar with distaste. The wizard decided that she was still irritated with his successful attempts at dodging her mother henning after the whole spectacle of his arrival with magical exhaustion. That woman sure could hold a grudge… "If you would give us a moment alone, Madam, it would be much appreciated."

Pomfrey gave another little huff, but gathered up her skirts and swept away to go rummage about in a cupboard. Salazar stepped fully around the divider then and leveled his gaze on Lupin. "I know you mean well, but I would like to speak with him alone," he said firmly. "He will need your support, yes, but let us give him some room to breathe. Hm?" It earned him another glare, but Lupin turned on his heel and stalked away. For such a normally mild mannered man, Salazar felt only a slight bit guilty at getting beneath the werewolf's skin. Perhaps it would get Lupin to actually think.

Shaking his head, Salazar drew out his wand and swirled it carefully while muttering beneath his breath. He then tucked his wand back away. "We can speak freely now," he said as he strode closer to Zabini's bed. The man certainly looked better than he had earlier. But then, that would be the work of the wolf magic.

Zabini rolled over onto his back and then sat up. He leaned back against the metal frame of the bed. "He smells… muddied," he murmured finally. "Dulled and almost sickly." Zabini raised his eyes to look at Salazar. His irises had changed to a deep gold, catching the light. There was life in them that Lupin's dull amber did not have. Another point against the damned wolfsbane potion.

"I do not want to take the potion they are pushing off on me," Zabini said with a rasp, drawing Salazar's attention. The man's lips twisted in a sneer before he looked away. "I know how wizards view werewolves. My own father was rather vocal. But I would rather this than be dead." He breathed in slowly, a slight shake to his breath. "I can feel it. The wolf."

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Salazar was quiet for a moment. Zabini seemed collected, if for his averted eyes. He was not as calm as he appeared. "Lycanthropy is called a curse," he said lightly, not missing the stiffening of Zabini's shoulders. "I think that is misleading. Your body has changed and you are no longer human… but it doesn't mean that you are cursed. Your body is enhanced with a new magic to call to your aid, a magic that normal wizards have never been able to grasp. There is a danger, yes, but the transformation on its own it not. Wolfsbane is a poison and acts as a cage on your new instincts. This will make them more volatile once released. Lupin, as an example, has been dosed for so long that he would lose his mind in a transformation if he skipped a dose. He would be a mindless beast, angered at being caged and hurt."

He took a breath, glad that Zabini had turned his attention solely back to him. "If you do not want to take the potion, then they cannot force you."

"And if Dumbledore threatens to kick me out if I do not?" Zabini's eyes were more calculating than worried.

Salazar gave a grim smile. "He will find he does not have the authority for such a thing. Especially if you claim sanctuary. Ask of it from the castle. She will listen." It would protect his identity and protect one of his Slytherins. That Zabini had already graduated was of no consequence. He had a thing against exiling people from Hogwarts. Perhaps just a bit of bias?

Zabini smirked. "You know an awful lot about the castle. And I spent seven years of schooling here." The statement was probing, searching.

Salazar smiled, looking towards the arched ceiling. "Few seem to understand that Hogwarts is sentient. And with the wards returned to full power, there is more she can do. If you claim sanctuary, and she feels you are not a danger, then she can override whatever Dumbledore may try to inflict." A little push of his own would not hurt either. But only Hogwarts and he need know of it.

"It seems a lot went on while I was gone. There was something wrong with the wards?" Zabini seemed more at ease now. He would not call the man a friend, but he was as close to one as Salazar would allow. So to see that Zabini was faring better was a relief.

Salazar inclined his head then. "Someone had destroyed one of the cardinal stones. It is hard to say just how long the wards had been operating with such a weakness. We were lucky enough to find it and I, along with a small group, performed the ritual to replace the stone." He frowned then. "And I, at the word of a seer, traveled to Helheim in pursuit of rumors. The journey was long and I only just returned the day before."

"Helheim… the sword?" Zabini asked slowly.

Salazar narrowed his eyes. "Yes. You must have a story of your own to tell."

Zabini chuckled, though there was little humour. "My mission took me to a wizarding settlement further north. While there, the Dark Lord showed, asking questions. Well… not so much asking as torturing it from people. I overheard demands about Helheim, a sword, and a forest called Murkwood."

A stab of anxiety pierced Salazar's chest. "Fyrkat?"

Zabini shook his head, easing Salazar's worry only slightly. "No," the man said simply. There was a faraway look in Zabini's eyes for a moment. "I do not think he found what he was looking for. He tried to raze the settlement to the ground, but the people fought back. He was pushed back, along with the Death Eaters he had brought with him. I was mortally wounded, but Greyback found me. Thought I'd be dead for sure… Greyback was one of his more well known followers for a time after all. But he offered me a second chance." A twisted smile raised the edges of his lips. "I am a Slytherin. I'd rather be a werewolf than be dead, though I know some purebloods would rather be dead than have any creature blood. But seeing as I'm already considered a blood traitor… I do not care what they think."

"I can understand the sentiment," Salazar said after a moment. He frowned again then. "How did Greyback come to be injured then? He was not very forthcoming when I questioned him earlier."

Zabini frowned. "Greyback was already battling fever when he came upon me. He was lucid enough to attempt to tend to my wounds, but I was fading fast. He offered me a second chance and I took it. I took the bite…" Zabini glanced down at his bandaged arm and fiddled with the wrappings. Salazar held out a hand in invitation and started to unwind the bandages when Zabini put his arm in his palm, revealing new pink skin. Zabini started speaking again, his voice softer. "I could feel the magic burning through me. Greyback said I might still not survive… so he apparated us to the only safe haven left for us. Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey was able to keep me alive long enough for the change to complete and start healing my body. The wounds are healed but she is insisting I remain for observation."

Salazar snorted and banished the useless bandages. "That woman takes her healer vows too seriously to the point of overbearing." Helga had been much the same, though she possessed also a rather witty tongue. Perhaps she was not known for it in this time, all but forgotten, but he had enjoyed conversation with her once upon a time. She used her tongue to berate Gryffindor and him for ill-advised adventures that often ended with one of them in need of Helga's attentions. Or rather, Gryffindor would drag him unwillingly into adventures that Salazar often found himself having to get them out of trouble.

Salazar looked over the sealed scars before he gave a nod. "Well, if you want my opinion… you do not need stay here any longer. If you wish, I will even help you slip past the Madame." He smiled a slow smile, earning himself a surprised laugh from Zabini. Salazar chuckled as well before he stood up off of the bed. "Come down to my office with me. I may have a book on werewolves that might interest you." It was an old book, but would be easy enough to translate with a spell.

Going over to the edge of the divider, Salazar glanced about. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. "Come along then. You alright to get to your feet?" He asked as he glanced over his shoulder, sliding his wand out of its holster. Zabini only grunted softly as he forced himself to his feet. He looked unstable for a moment, but then straightened and gave Salazar a nod. Salazar dispelled the privacy ward and instead muffled their feet with a different spell. They were out the door shortly after, unnoticed and barely holding back wild grins. To Salazar there was something exhilarating about escaping the infirmary and Zabini seemed to share his thoughts. The two shared a chuckle once they had rounded the corner out of sight.

Zabini's gaze did not seem to be able to be kept still. Salazar thought it might have to do with the newly enhanced senses of the man, so he hid a private smile. "So what are your plans now?" He asked after a few moments, his hands clasped behind his back as they walked at a sedate pace.

"I suppose I will take a day at a time," Zabini responded after a few moments. "I will need to get this new magic under control. The smells, the sights… I can hear a conversation clearly from a corridor down. It is rather distracting." He did seem a little preoccupied, though Salazar thought he was coping well enough so far. But perhaps Greyback would have a fair good bit of help he could offer. He would have to bring it up with the older wolf. "But once I have it back under control… I am not sure yet still," Zabini admitted, breaking Salazar out of his thoughts. "I doubt Dumbledore will let me out of the castle anytime soon, though I'm sure he'll try to push that stupid potion off on me in response…"

The two were quiet for a time, both lost to their own thoughts. But then Salazar gave a little nod and looked to Zabini out of the corner of his eye. "If you are interested, I would like to offer you the position of being my teaching assistant. With everything that has happened, it will be easier on me to have someone else to help. I can make do without you, but the offer is there if you so wish."

Zabini was not given a chance to respond as Granger suddenly came billowing down the corridor. Her hair was a mess of curls and her robes were flapping behind her. Salazar's first instinct was to press against the stone wall so that he would not get in her way, but she grabbed onto his wrist as she darted past to drag him along with her. He would forever deny the startled yelp that slipped through his lips. "Granger? What are you doing?" He kept his voice controlled. He could see Zabini tailing after them in amusement.

Granger didn't respond as she dragged him off to the Room of Requirement. She gave Zabini a look once they were at the door, but then shrugged it off and invited him inside too. In the room, it was decorated with a large round table. There were numerous maps and old books littering the surface. George and Frederick were draped over a pair of chairs and Luna was perched on the arm of another. Einar was at the table, looking through some old charts. "Evans? Just what have you been up to?"

After he shot Zabini a look, Salazar turned back to Granger. "I am not going to ask again. What is going on, Granger?"

"I couldn't make the meeting you had yesterday, as I'm sure you saw," she said hurriedly, pulling her unruly curls up into a messy bun. "But I was told about it. I want to hear the full story. About your trip to Helheim. I want details! The others… they just sort of invited themselves."

Luna gave a dreamy smile and placed her elbows on the table, her head in her hands. "All of us here will play a part," she said with a soft hum, her eyes following something only she could apparently see. Salazar could only give an exasperated sigh before he finally approached the table. Well, that was almost straightforward, though a part of what exactly they all were remained to be seen.

Seating himself at the table, Salazar called for a house elf and requested breakfast be brought. Not even back a day and the hours had been caught in a whirlwind! "Sit. Have any of you even eaten yet today?" Granger's flush was answer enough for her and Zabini's stomach also responded rather loudly. He could not blame Zabini though as he had been caught in the infirmary until now. Still, Salazar could barely hold back a roll of his eyes as he gestured to the table. "Join me than."

As they ate, Salazar gave them the tale of his journey to Helheim. The ones gathered here with him would believe in his story rather than the skepticism of the Order. And those around him now were more likely to help him figure out the riddle of the sword's location. So he told them of Fyrkat and Grani. He described his journey and telling of the weight of the path of the dead, Helvegr. He grudgingly informed them of the bridge's guard and his payment of the horcrux when Luna asked innocently about his deal with Hel. He spoke about Hel's hall and his journey to and through Nastrond. His story finished with Angantyr Heidreksson's words and his trek back to Hogwarts.

When he finally finished, Salazar took a long drink from his goblet. Luna gave him a wispy smile. Zabini was hard to read and the twins appeared to be deep in a private conversation. Einar looked thoughtful, but Granger was practically vibrating with energy. Trying to contain her questions and enthusiasm no doubt. "What is a horcrux?" Was her first question of what was likely many.

Salazar was silent for a moment as he regarded her question. Finally, he looked over to Granger. "It is a very black magic," he started out, but was interrupted by Granger asking about black magic. Salazar held back his amusement. "Light and Dark magic are based upon sacrifice and how the body conducts the magic, correct? Light magic is pulled through the earth using the body as a conduit. Lighter oriented wizards have better magical pathways to conduct this magic. Dark magic uses earth magic as well, but the body needs give something of itself to feed the magic rather than just conduct it. It is often why Dark magic can seem more powerful, but is also very reliant on the power of the magical. Black magic is also a form of Dark magic in that it requires sacrifice to be used. However. The sacrifice is taken from other lives, often requiring all the life that the soul has to give," he explained gravely. "Blood magic is one that rides the fine line of Dark and Black. A few droplets of blood in a ritual is Dark magic, but a sacrificed life is Black magic."

"So Horcruxes require a life to be destroyed so it may be created?" Granger asked in dawning horror, looking like she was starting to put some of the pieces together. A few of the others looked vaguely sick at the thought while Einar looked grim. "And Vol…Vol… Riddle, he made these?"

Giving a little nod, Salazar ran his fingers over the rim of his goblet. "To create a Horcrux… one must rip their soul into pieces and stick a portion of their soul into an object through a sacrificial act. It is rare for a living creature to be used as a vessel, but it is possible. What the question is now… how many of these horcruxes has the man made?"

Granger bit her lip then. "And you… you had a horcrux in you to have given it to uh, what was her name?"

"Modgudr," Salazar supplied. "And yes." He paused a moment then, leaning back in his chair. Finally, he gave a sigh. He did not particularly enjoy speaking about himself, especially secrets. "The truth is… ten years ago, I was in an incident. What exactly, I do not know. But the years before I turned fifteen, I cannot recall them. I have no memory. But given the time when the Dark Lord, Riddle as you call him, was defeated… I must have been anywhere between birth and five years old when he made me a vessel of one of his horcruxes."

"So Eolas Evans? Is that really your name?" Granger pushed, nibbling on her lower lip as she processed Salazar's words.

Einar cleared his throat. "Herrick. I named him Herrick as he had no other name. Eolas was the name of a familiar, we know now as certain memories gradually return."

A smile twisted Salazar's lips. "Memory is a funny thing. We can take names as our own if we cannot recall whether or not they truly belong to us. I knew the name Eolas as it swam fleeting through my memory. It must have been mine as far as I knew, so I took it as my own. But Herrick… that was the name given to me by Einar so it is much more of mine than Eolas." It was a twist of the story, though held grains of truth. It was funny though… he had taken the name Salazar Slytherin because he had remembered it in a foggy memory. In a paradox of time, he had created himself. He had become Salazar to pass down the name to be in a memory from his original timeline. He was Salazar Slytherin… but who he was before was still not known to him. The clues were gathering and he had his suspicions… but time was a strange thing.

Granger pressed her lips into a fine line. "So who are you then? Who are you really that you would have come into contact with Riddle but come out of it alive? Protected even, we can assume. The man would want to keep his horcrux safe. Perhaps the son of a death eater? You would have been too young to be a death eater yourself."

Zabini snorted softly and shook his head. "As far as I know, none of the families under Riddle's thumb ever had a son go mysteriously missing. Herrick does not have the traits of the families anyhow. Maybe the Blacks, but Sirius Black never had a son and Regulus Black never did either. Narcissa became a Malfoy and I know Draco doesn't have any siblings. Bellatrix married into the LeStrange family, but never had any sons." Salazar glanced at the man who gave him a smirk in return. "Do call me Blaise, Herrick."

"A half-blood self-named lord knows the power new blood brings to old lines. Only another half-blood would be able to match him," Luna said suddenly, bringing all attention to her. Salazar's brow furrowed. So he was a half-blood? There was nothing wrong with it, but it was certainly another piece of the puzzle. And it seemed that perhaps Luna knew who he was, but she was not telling him outright. She gave him a knowing smile then and he had to fight not to scowl.

They all looked to him then and Salazar was struck by the impulse to growl at them. "There is something important about you to the war," Granger murmured. "Maybe if we could figure out who you are, it would give us answers. At least what we know is that you had to have been in the British Isles around Riddle's first reign of terror. At least, towards the end of it. How old were you when Riddle was first defeated?"

Salazar was quiet for a moment as he thought it over. "I was probably five or six years old, if my calculations are correct." He missed the way that the twins glanced at each other.

"So you are about five years older than us," Granger mused. "Or, me and Zabini that is. Only about three years older than the twins."

She opened her mouth to continue, but George slipped from his spot and grabbed hold of one of Salazar's arms. "Excuse us for a moment!" He said as Frederick came up on Salazar's other side. A door appeared in the Room that ended up leading to an area barely large enough for a closet. George locked the door behind them and shot up a privacy ward.

Salazar rounded on the two of them as he yanked his arm out of Frederick's grip. "Just what is the meaning of this?" He hissed, already exhausted and not in any sort of mood to deal with their shenanigans. The two younger wizards glanced between each other before giving Salazar a more solemn look than he had ever thought he had seen on them before now.

"We know who you are. Suspect at least," they told him. Salazar found he could not even respond, his mouth even dropping open when he had gone to speak, but had completely lost whatever it what he was going to say. The two didn't even comment. "We figure… something happened. There was a great surge of magic and it sent you far into the past. You became Salazar Slytherin. You are Salazar Slytherin. No disputing that. You spent what sounds like ten years there…. gotta say you're a remarkable wizard, you are. Legends really don't live up the reality!" They ignored Salazar's derisive snort. "Something else happened then. Another surge of magic. Magic has a mind of her own when she wants to, so there must be a reason for what happened. You were sent back to your original timeline. But… time doesn't flow the way we think it does. Wibbly Wobbly and all that. You spent ten years in the past, but only five years have passed here while you were gone."

Salazar had the urge to cross his arms defensively across his chest. "What is your proof? And who do you think I am?"

"Proof is your scar. Shaped like a thunderbolt, as everyone says. It's a unique curse scar to you, Harry. Especially if there was a horcrux in it. You were born Harry Potter." The words were said with certainty, if also gently.

Still, it was like he had been hit in the chest. All his breath was stolen from him. He wanted to deny it. But the truth was… he had spent the time here already denying the facts that lay before him. His memory loss. His dreams. The scar. Even his looks. All of it pointed to the truth. Somehow… he had once been Harry Potter. But he no longer knew Harry Potter. It was not him any longer. He was now Salazar Slytherin. And Harry Potter had once been important to the people here. How did he explain his absence? That he had been gone for ten years while they had only lived five more? How did he explain the lies? It would be far worse to explain too that he was Salazar Slytherin, because that was who he was now.

"Do not tell anyone else," he said firmly, ignoring the slight crack in his voice. "We will discuss this later." He dispelled the ward then and stepped out the door.

"Herrick? Is everything alright? What was that about?" Granger looked concerned as she rose to her feet.

But Salazar shook his head and made a sharp motion with his hand. "It is nothing for you to worry about." He returned to the table but did not sit down. "For now… I want us not to focus on what-ifs. I am Herrick and that will be enough for now. Until such time that it is not… well, we have other things to worry about. We will find out the horcruxes that Riddle has created and I will send them to Hel as per my agreement with her." He turned his sharp gaze onto each of them. "And for now… all of this remains among us. What we discuss here does not leave this room."

Granger hit her hands on the table in surprise. "But Professor Dumbledore…!"

"No!" Salazar cut her off sharply, startling her and a few of the others. He took a deep breath then and straightened his shoulders. "No," he repeated. "Do not tell anyone. Something tells me that the Headmaster has already known about the Horcruxes, but has not shared the information. His reasoning is his own, but it does not change my choice," Salazar said firmly. "But whether or not this is true is not the most important thing. Our knowledge of the Horcruxes is a delicate thing. We must keep the information close or else it might fall into the wrong hands. If Riddle knows that we are searching for his Horcruxes, then he will guard them in a way we have no counter before it is too late. For now, we have the advantage of surprise."

Salazar paused then. "For now, my past is not the priority. Our priority is to research Riddle and his past. Horcruxes are often objects that hold great meaning. What sort of objects would he use to create his horcruxes? Though it is uncommon for a wizard to create more than one horcrux, we can safely assume he might have many. One he placed in me. Yet he still had one available to bring himself back to a corporeal body. This tells me he created more than one. Those may be the only ones, but my guess is he created more. So our task now is to search for Tyrfing and to research Riddle."

"Now if you would excuse me, I have some students to check in on. Luna, with me," he said curtly before he turned on his heel. He was out the door before anyone could say differently. Luna followed him quickly. She seemed to sense his mood thankfully as she kept quiet until they had reached his office just off the potions' classroom. There, she kicked off her shoes and sat cross legged in the chair. Salazar took his own seat and pulled his loose braid over his shoulder as he sat back. "You knew." He did not need to explain what he meant.

Luna drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. "You have the mark of Sowilo on your brow. The gods have always been aware of you. They know your past and your many possible lives. In every world and every timeline, you hold importance."

Salazar could not pretend to understand what Luna was speaking. "Be as it may, why did you not tell me?" It was one thing to have suspicions that were convenient to ignore, and quite another to have proof and need to confront the truth.

"You were not ready yet," Luna said simply. "It is not my place to interfere, merely watch and send you in the right direction. The truth would come to you when it was time." She gave him a sweet smile, "Your memories will return. They already have been, haven't they? They will come in the pieces you need to deal with them. You are Harry Potter. But you are also Salazar Slytherin. Who you are is just as important as who you were. Finding the truth does not mean you have to trade one for the other. Remember that."

So she said. Salazar shook his head and turned his gaze to the pile of graded essays on the corner of his desk. "How were the students?" He was not willing to discuss this topic any longer until he had the chance to sort through what he could remember. There was much he needed to figure out and to understand how to approach the problem. It would never be as simple as declaring himself as the missing Potter boy. For now, there were other things to think about.

One of which was that it was only a few short weeks until Winternight. Samhain and Vetrnaetr were observed on this night and he had promised his Slytherins a feast. Blaise too he had remembered inviting, and the young man could do with a distraction such as that. They all could really.

The next day was Sunday. He would have all of today and all of the next day to prepare to return to his classes. He could also put some thought into how he would prepare for the Winternight festival. With the families of some of his Slytherins now in the castle, they too would want to be included. If he had his way, he would have done it outside and within the Great Hall like in ages now far past. But he did not think some of the others would look too kindly upon it. But perhaps he could make use of the Room of Requirement's abilities. The castle too would be more than happy to help him hide the festivities from the Headmaster. So that was settled at least.

"And they say my head is the one in the clouds," a lightly laughing voice broke Salazar from his thoughts and he realized he had been staring at the pile of essays for several minutes without hearing what Luna was telling him.

Clearing his throat, Salazar straightened in his seat. "Forgive me. Would you mind repeating yourself?" Luna only laughed before telling Salazar again what had went on during his three weeks away from the school. At least the classes had progressed along where he had wanted them to be. He could only hope though his absence would not affect his relationship with his little snakelings. Perhaps he should pay them a visit...

Once Luna had left, Salazar pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and carefully scribed a note for his Slytherins. After lunch on the morrow, he requested their presence in the Slytherin lecture hall. With a simple spell, he had the note duplicated into enough for every student. A request to a house elf had each short letter placed upon his students' beds for them to find. With that done, he had only his thoughts to occupy him.

'The scent of death still clings to you,' a voice stirred him from his thoughts and Salazar looked up in time to see the flash of flame that heralded the arrival of Fawkes. The phoenix rustled his feathers as he made himself comfortable on the back of the chair that Luna had not long since vacated.

"And you are looking much better," Salazar retorted dryly. "But what has brought the great Fawkes to seek me out?" Fawkes awarded him with an unimpressed stare, but did not respond. Salazar gave a heavy sigh and leaned back in his own chair. "You know, do you not? You have always known." It was the heaviest thing on his mind and he was tired of others knowing personal secrets of his that he did not know himself.

Fawkes trilled with a toss of his head. 'When you arrived as a young boy, I knew.' If phoenixes could appear sly, then that was the sort of expression that appeared on the bird's face. 'In the Chamber, it was not loyalty to Dumbledore that summoned me to bring you the Sorting Hat.'

A small memory sparked in Salazar's mind and he frowned. "Godric's sword. It gave me Godric's sword… and the Headmaster had the gull to tell me that only a true Gryffindor could pull such a thing from that infernal hat!"

The trilling that came from Fawkes could only be a laugh. 'You certainly did Godric's House proud as a young boy,' the creature warbled in amusement much to Salazar's chagrin. The phoenix quieted then. 'Godric searched for you, Salazar Slytherin. Being unable to find you… it drove him mad. He ordered me to watch over his son, but never returned himself. The animosity between the two Houses began because his son hated you for stealing away his father no matter what I told him that it was not your fault. He hated you, but he hated his own father as well.'

If this was supposed to make him feel better somehow, it certainly was not the way to go about it. Salazar's jaw clenched. "Is it your intention to make me feel guilt over Godric's madness? He is the one who banished me," the wizard said stiffly as he stood up from his desk and turned his back on the phoenix.

'I merely speak to you the truth, Salazar Slytherin. It is to make you understand. The animosity between your two Houses was not because of any of Godric's intentions. He loved you dearly.'

Salazar's fists clenched. "Enough, Fawkes. I understand. Godric felt guilt for what he did to me. He searched for me, abandoned his own son to try to find me. But it does not lessen his betrayal. So get out. I have enough to think about without you pressing me." He did not turn around until he had heard the rustle of feathers that marked Fawkes' departure. What did it matter that Godric felt guilt over his actions? The man he had loved as his brother had betrayed him as deeply as Cayden had done, if not deeper. That was not a wound so easily healed.

((End Chapter Eleven))

And I almost ended the chapter at "We know who you are." But I didn't.