A/N: Hey, guys! Well, this story is almost over, sorry to disappoint all of you. Thing is, I guess I would have made it longer, but I would have had to use another notebook since the 150 page one I used for this was thisclose to being filled up by the time I finished longhand writing the story. That's right, 150 pages! Meaning this is 300 pages or so and counting with this fic. Amazing, right? Anyway, welcome to the shortest chapter of the whole story. But, then again, you can only write an introspective chapter for only so many pages before you start to bore the reader.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

Chapter 26: Shattered Dreams

Hogwarts stood across from this lake, he knew all too well. After months of aimless roaming through the hills and vales of England to search inside himself, he had stopped near this place, where his search ended. This was where everything started and concluded. However, as intelligent and insightful as he was, Salazar Slytherin dared not step toward the school where he could have possibly wrought its ruin. His urge to protect it as his home had distorted into avarice and selfishness to force his former friends to listen to him. Rowena listened, yet her heart was too kind for her to truly believe his point of view, for which he could not place blame. The other two he wouldn't excuse, so why was it her alone? His love must be greedy and possessive as well.

A stray breeze managed to ruffle his dark hair while he blankly, thoughtfully stared at that castle of stone that seemed to block him. He stood in the midst of this shady forest, yet the blasted castle probably suspected what he contemplated. Its walls told no lies and professed the truth as to what happened inside. From him building it with Godric, charming it, courting Rowena, and then to him constructing the secret chamber out of bitterness and that final declaration of rebellion...Any remote chance of redemption would not come to pass for him. He was no hero, and who was he to actually think for one second that he could be accepted by others?

Salazar had always contrasted from the other three founders...always. He was considered dark and mysterious, something to be feared and something to be detested. When he was a young boy, he used to question his humanity, if he even possessed an inkling of it or not. For the first six years of his life, he deemed himself a monster, for that was how his father and the servants treated him. Well, he had proven them right, hadn't he? Over the past ten years, his heart may have softened, and he may have gained caring, supporting friends. Yet, his true colors could not be changed. He still placed that basilisk in the school, and his best friend rejected him in the end. As much as he had denied the credibility of this trait existing, he really was monstrous, impossible to forgive, a complete and utter wretch. He would deny it no longer.

He was a true Slytherin in every sense that that surname implied: coldness, harshness, blood obsessed, bigoted, and power hungry. In spite of his attempt to begin his life anew with the founding of Hogwarts, he could escape neither his past nor his fate. Everything he thought he knew from being the potions master and the loyal friend twisted into something that he could hardly recognize. Meaning, if he was correct in guessing at this, trying to turn his life around brought him even worse pain. A Slytherin he was and would forever be, and for the first time in his life, Salazar did not take pride in his heritage. The heirloom locket clasped around his neck weighed down like a heavy burden, as though all of his sins were locked within that miniscule pendant on the chain.

Gingerly, hesitantly, he fingered it, feeling that cold, solid gold beneath the pads of his fingers. When he traced the "S" insignia, he recalled when he had placed emeralds on it to make the "S" encrusted. He had wished to add his special touch...

"Hello, Salazar," Rowena cheerfully greeted, sauntering into the chamber he normally utilized as his classroom. "Oh. I hope I am not interrupting you."

With a rather smug look on his face, he glanced up from his locket that he diligently worked on. "Not at all, Ro, not in the slightest. I am merely using alchemy to place these emeralds on this locket of mine."

Alchemy had been a branch of magic relatively foreign to Salazar until he read a book on the subject one languid Saturday afternoon. Although he initially struggled with grasping the complexity of it, he soon found it as simple as his potions brewing. He supposed there was no discernible reason for embedding these shining verdant jewels into the "S" of the locket, merely that he was bored.

"Alchemy?" Rowena shook her head in disbelief. "Why ever for?"

He shrugged. "A hobby, one might say. Honestly, darling, must you insist upon an answer for everything?"

She crossed her arms, her eyes playfully challenging him. "I am an inquisitive sort of person, Sal. I am going to need knowledge pertaining to everything."

Enjoying how she used sarcasm delicately like in this instance, Salazar chuckled fondly at her wit. No one in the castle, not even him, was impervious to her charm and her cleverness. She was so natural with both characteristics that she could be charming and clever with ease. And he thought it exceedingly attractive.

Carefully inserting another emerald, he replied, "I do not doubt your capability of that. But...hm...Perhaps I will craft you a necklace someday."

Rowena stood on tiptoe to peer over his shoulder in order to vex him. Instead of being vexed, he stared at her with gleaming eyes and a genuine smile. Forgetting what he was doing, he allowed her to wrap her arms behind his shoulders.

"You know jewelry does not mean a thing to me, even if it would be a gift from you. Your love is worth more than any diamond, sapphire, ruby...or emerald."

From anyone else, he would have considered this to be an uninspired, cliché statement. From his Rowena, it sounded quite sweet coming from her soft voice...

Reeling from the images in his mind, Salazar reluctantly blinked his eyes open, for he felt momentarily that he was back at Hogwarts and with her. Being with her was what partially made teaching at the school worthwhile. With a rueful sigh, he opened his locket then by whispering imperatively in Parseltongue.

His grip on it tightened once he glimpsed what the heirloom now contained that hadn't been there before. There, nestled in the hollow, were a few strands of dark, beautiful brown hair—Rowena's hair, to be precise. The hair he so wished to have for his twenty-fourth birthday, the peculiar gift that she teasingly remarked was odd. Surely, in her heart, she considered it to be a romantic request. For, that was how special their love was. They never asked too much out of each other, as long as they cared about each other. Their emotions mattered more than trifles such as Christmas and birthday gifts. If anything, these emotions translated to the actual gifts. But, now that this...what this was between them ended in this lifetime, he couldn't keep these strands.

What deeply concerned Salazar about ridding himself of these locks was that they were what he had of Rowena. The only thing he had, so he was troubled over the fact that he must let them go. She would no longer be his, that much was certain. As soft-hearted as he had been (foolishly or rightfully so), he had ensured to tell her that he had set her free. She could not remain unmarried just because she felt obligated toward his thoughts and feelings. Rowena was one of the wisest women he had ever come across. Following his advice, she would belong to another man in a matter of months, maybe as of the present time. Nonetheless, Salazar sensed a sorrowful pang pierce his chest, right into his heart that he kept guarded.

The worst part of this was that he could imagine it clearly, perfectly in his head. He could see Rowena touching another man, talk to him in her low, soft tones, kiss him...Out of anguish, he unclenched the hand that gently held the strands of hair, allowing the wind to carry them away. A shudder passed through him as he knelt on the ground, seized by his pain. Would he ever doubt that she would love him until death and beyond? How could she...when she had never taken his side? When he had talked of blood purity, she automatically changed the subject. Perhaps she saw him as a monster, too.

Then again, he must have been too manic regarding wizards and how their blood should be pure in order for them to be truly magical. However, Salazar was determined to never place trust in Muggles again. His childhood had destroyed all hopes for such a peace between him and them to occur. Their children had abused him, kicking him and pummeling him until he started bleeding. He could hardly give them the smug satisfaction of his friendship to them. As he declared to them all, he would keep his belief that Muggles waited for the opportunity to use wizard powers against them. If he hadn't attained such questionable philosophy, would Rowena have loved him more? Maybe his theories were not as great as he once made them out to be, if they were to drive people away.

Gazing longingly out over the lake that glittered once the rays of sunlight hit it just right, he wondered what Rowena was currently up to. He pictured her teaching a class of bright-eyed pupils, guiding them with reassuring words when they would try out a recently taught charm. For, he had observed how she behaved toward students before, before and after school was in session. She seemingly memorized each and every name, politely asked after their families, and listened to their silly, juvenile stories. Always there was a patient smile settled on her lips, and its presence would seemingly encourage the children to speak in a relaxed manner toward her. Her sparkling charisma could draw anyone in.

Salazar shook his head back and forth in order to rid himself of torturous thoughts concerning what would have happened if he lived his life with his most beloved Rowena, shared it with her. Children would have very much been a reality, especially with the equal passion they had along with gentle loving.

And that brought him to think of their child.

Had she known that she bore a child? Did she honestly think that he would loathe the idea? Or, what angered him a great deal, did she come to the conclusion that he would be an ill-fitting father?

He would have loved that child as much as he adored her, and that was the truth! In spite of his father's less than desirable parenting, there was his mother to consider. His mother was the kindest, most affectionate woman whom he had never met, but at least she was prepared to care for him. And because Salazar foolishly gave Rowena up (but it had been the only way), she would raise the child with another man. It was indeed inevitable that this would be so. She needed to avoid horrific, reputation destroying scandal, did she not? So, there would be that replacement love, another bloody man who was not him!

"That child will be brought up by lies!" he abruptly shouted, not caring who or what overheard him. This revelation devastated him beyond anything.

Salazar drew out another piece of jewelry, this time from his trouser pocket. It was the most meaningful, the most precious item he owned. And yet, he surprised himself with how long he bothered to keep it. This dream of his that he coddled since he first began to fall in love with Rowena was shattered. It would forever be immortalized in fantasy but not reality. His temporary rage subsiding, it was replaced by a calm sorrow that hardly seemed to abate. Staying thoroughly angry at Rowena was not how he wished for this to be. He treasured her, no matter who she would marry or what she did. Her heart would be open to anything, and for that, he deeply admired her. She shined like the brightest star.

Who wouldn't love her? Though Godric and Helga (particularly the former) could avoid saying his name in conversation now, they would not direct this toward Rowena. Salazar hoped they hadn't, for it would be most unfair if they vented it on her simply because she had her romance with him. As for him, he would half-heartedly search for a pureblooded woman to marry, only so he could have his heir. Nothing else mattered to him, for everything that composed life quietly faded into the background. Everything dulled, for he had tasted the finest part of life (the part she had chosen to share with him) that was offered to him.

It simply wouldn't be the same without her, not the same. So, it all came down to this one moment, the ultimate sacrifice that he would make, the one that would wound most. Rowena Ravenclaw, cherished by every person she met, would have to be let go. It was genuine this time; he could not see her or visit her again.

He didn't deserve such a pleasure as that, not any more.

His hand shaking slightly, he threw what he planned to cast out of his sight and into the lake. The object in question was a ring, one that he had planned to use in proposing to Rowena. A diamond and amethyst piece, it was what he himself had crafted with his knowledge of alchemy. As Salazar Slytherin turned away, whispering unheard wishes for the woman he loved, the ring sank to the bottom.

It was never discovered.

A/N: A bit chilling there, I personally think. Yeah, the alchemy thing...That was me winging it and being unsure what the magical equivelent of jeweling would be. I mean, in jeweling, you do work with some precious metals like gold and silver and stuff like that. Winging it, I guess, isn't always so bad a thing.

Now, the ring...Oooh, when I wrote that, goosebumps went up and down my back. Cuz, the thing is, I originally didn't plan it so that it would be revealed that Salazar was going to ask Rowena to marry him. But, at the very last minute, I decided to add it. It kind of makes this all the more tragic, does it not? XD I mean, it's really just straight-up painful.