Chapter 3: Revelations and Emotions

I do not own Harry Potter

Author's Notes

Chapter 3 is now fixed, thank you for pointing that out.
Previously the story was labelled as a multi, however I have now reconsidered that decision. My apologies to anyone who was looking forward to that. It is now only a Harry/Daphne story. This was how I had initially planned out the story, but had changed it at the last minute.
I have still not written much farther into the story, so if you have any suggestions, do drop a review and let me know!
Enjoy!

17:33| Chamber of Secrets| Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry| June 12th 1993

When Harry had confronted the basilisk last time, he had obviously known that the snake was GARGANTUAN, but he hadn't taken the time to truly scale its size, he had had other things on his mind, namely, "HOLY SHIT THAT GIANT SNAKE IS COMING TO KILL ME".

Now though, he could take his time and study the snake – its scaled body was deep green all over, except a lighter shade on the underbelly. It was around 50 feet in length, and about 4 feet wide, with sharp fangs lining the sides of its mouth and had a pair of bright yellow eyes on which Fawkes had left his mark.

After staring at the body for an entire minute, Harry finally managed to tear his gaze away from it, and started taking in the Chamber in its entirety. After looking at the carved, if plain, ceiling, and the smashed rock that had led to a rather large leakage last time he was here, his eyes came to the main reason of his visit – The bust of Salazar Slytherin. Making his way over the mouth, he hissed, "Speak to me Salazar Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!". Just like last time, the mouth opened up, though thankfully he was not greeted by Medusa-in-snake-form this time. The inside was barely visible, though that wasn't an obstacle.

"Lumos", he said, drawing his trusty holly wand from inside his robes. He was greeted by the sight of a rather steep ramp going upwards.

"Stairs." Harry smiled to himself as the ramp started to morph, turning into a staircase.

As Harry started to make his way up, he noticed that the statue was a LOT larger on the inside that it should have been. It took him a second before he realised what was going on – expansion charms. They had covered those earlier this year, expanding their book bags and pockets, but this was an expansion on a mind-boggling scale. "I love magic." he muttered to himself. Finally, he reached the summit of the stairs, and in front of him stood a door.

Oh Merlin. He REALLY did not want to play 'guess the password set by arrogant prat Slytherin'. He decided to start basic –

"Open."

…

Much to Harry's surprise (and relief), the door swung open, but this would not be the last, or even second last time he would experience that emotion today.

"Ah, so you are not him after all, I was alerted to your presence by the wards, but it was a new signature, so it possibly couldn't have been Riddle, and in any case – "

"INCENDIO!"

All of a sudden, the portrait was engulfed in red-hot flames, and its voice was muted by the roaring and cackling of the fire.

Harry's knuckles were white because of how tightly he was gripping his wand. He couldn't believe his eyes – Salazar Slytherin!... the man responsible for the petrifications, for Myrtle's death, for the discrimination against muggleborns…Harry wanted to, no he needed to destroy this portrait, he needed to end Salazar Slytherin's presence in this world, he needed to stop the man who would produce another Voldemort.…. Was this why Tom Riddle turned to the dark side? He HAD just admitted to having met him before….

Harry was more than a little surprised at how strong his spell was, though he was happy, there was no way the portrait was surviving this! He bent his arm backwards and jerked it forward, simultaneously channeling more energy into his spell. Predictably, the flames grew even more vicious, now turning white-blue and engulfing several square feet of wall around the portrait. The temperature in the room soared up, and Harry started to sweat from his proximity to the heat. Over the screech of the fires, he could hear the portrait screaming something, though it was undecipherable. He smiled to himself, getting a twisted sort of pleasure from imagining the portrait yelling in agony.

While Harry did manage to maintain the intensity of his attack for quite an admirable amount of time for someone his age, he eventually started to tire out, and the potency of the flames began to decrease; keeping the fire continuing at such intensity was taxing, and he was already fatigued from the day's quidditch practice. Besides, the portrait hadn't said anything in some time now, something he just realized. Satisfied he had put it down for good, he stopped the spell. The flame died out, and Harry was greeted by an unexpected sight – the walls around the portrait had been scorched and blackened, but the portrait itself remained unharmed.

Harry stared eyes wide open, sweat dripping down his forehead. This had to be the most vicious attack he had ever launched…. and it had done nothing.

"Everte Statum!", "Flipendo Maxima!", "Bombarda!". Three jets of light shot out, the last one creating an explosion upon coming in contact with its target, momentarily making Harry flinch.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE CHILD, WILL YOU JUST LISTEN!"

That made Harry freeze. The deep and hoarse voice, the volume and the expression on the face of its source made McGonagall's ire look like Quirrell's stuttering. Harry kept his wand pointed up, though.

"GOOD, Now listen, I DID HELP THAT RIDDLE BOY, BUT I DID NOT APPROVE OF WHAT HE DID, in fact, I banished him from this study when I heard what he did!".

"You…. don't want to kill muggleborn students?" Harry spoke out on impulse.

"I am a teacher, boy, how could I ever want to murder my students!". Salazar, ever perceptive, noted the child in front of him almost snarl at being called 'boy'. "Magic is magic, being 'pureblood' or 'halfblood' does not matter.". Harry simply stared at him dumbfoundedly, it seems history was not what it was thought to be.

"Why don't we start over, child? What is your name, my descendant?" Salazar said, softly.

Harry lowered his wand and began to speak, "My name is Harry Potter, I'm a second-year student here, and I'm sorry, but we're not related."

"What? You said Potter, I recognize that name, it's an English family, is it not?". At Harry's nod, Salazar continued

"Well, I'm not aware of any other British house that had the same gift as mine, and I know you spoke parseltongue to open the door. It is possible that your ancestors married into a foreign household that carried the ability, or perhaps our lines had crossed sometime over the generations, it had already been 950 years when Riddle first found me… What year is it now?"

"1993." Harry replied.

"And what of my familiar, Serena, I felt her leave the wards, but it does not take her so long to hunt for food."

Harry internally scoffed when he heard the name, Serena was hardly an apt name for a giant snake with deadly venom, and whose gaze could quite literally kill. He also got the feeling he was headed in for an extremely awkward conversation.

"Oh – Uh, she's…she's dead."

Salazar let out a sigh," I suppose I knew it was going to be this way, Riddle had twisted her mind and corrupted her…... Terrible shame, terrible…." Finished Salazar, looking a little sad, as well as contemplative. Before Salazar could ask the cause of her death, Harry began again.

"Uh Mr – Professor Slytherin-"

The portrait let out a chuckle, "You may call me Salazar, child"

Harry nodded," Right, S-Salazar, I have so many questions..."

"Ask away."

"First of all, why can you understand me, or Riddle for that matter, wasn't English…. different when you were alive?"

Salazar chuckled again, "A good question, though not one I was expecting you would ask first… I can understand you because of an extraordinary rune stone, gifted to me by a Pharoah in Egypt during my travels. It proved to be quite useful as I ventured across the world with Godric, yes Gryffindor", he said as he heard Harry's unasked question. "As I listen to another, I begin to pick up their language, and the more I interact with them, speaking or listening, the more… attuned I become to that language. A truly wonderful, and exceptionally rare piece of magic, in fact it remains the only stone of its kind I ever came across. While having this portrait built, I decided to fuse this stone with it. As you may have guessed, having already interacted with Riddle makes me able to communicate with you just fine."

"Right, about him, you said you banished him? And where does your snake fit into all this? Why was it even here?!"

"Ha -ha, now those are the questions I thought you'd ask….. Very well, back in the 10th century, if a wizard or witch were to be discovered by muggles, it was highly likely that they would be killed. There were exceptions, yes, sometimes the magical would end up being accepted for he was, and the community would be better off with the presence of a wizard to aid them. But such exceptions were just that, exceptions. We, as founders of a school for magical children, were naturally concerned for our charges' safety. In those days, the enchantments were not as intricate and advanced as they are today, and there were recognizable fallibilities in our secrecy plan. Thankfully, a combination of the naturally secluded location and our magical protections were enough to ensure the castle was never found or breached. The basilisk was a last resort defence in case that ever happened."

At Harry's widened eyes, he replied, "Yes, it was here to protect the students, not harm them. It was an incredible risk, but worth it. Contrary to popular belief, a basilisk can actually choose if it wishes to kill with its gaze or not, and only me or my descendants could command it , or else it would simply lay in its chambers. You can imagine my disgust when Riddle used the basilisk to target those she was there to protect, as well as what he did after the murder….."

"Why didn't you stop her this year? You were obviously aware of when she left the statue, and wouldn't you have talked to it after banishing Riddle? What happened? Did you lose your ability to speak parseltongue?" Harry asked, feeling like Hermione at asking so many questions.

"Conjure a snake, you are aware how to do it, aren't you?". Harry nodded, and recalled Malfoy's wand movement that day at the duelling club, it was thankfully, uncomplicated. Taking in a deep breath, Harry stepped back, hoping this was one of those intent-based spells like the disarming-charm, which did not need much studying, just intent on the part of the caster, and yelled out -

"Serpensortia!"

A metre-long black snake shot out of his wand, much to his relief.

"Serpent, coil." Surprisingly for Harry, the snake refused Salazar's command. In fact, it looked offended at being spoken to like that, and let out a threatening hiss. Salazar looked over at Harry, his expression conveying, "you try it". Interestingly, at Harry giving the same command, the snake obeyed without hesitation, and coiled up. Salazar, now almost sure of his theory, tried again, "Serpent, can you understand me?". The snake nodded, though still looked a little miffed at Slytherin.

"It is as is suspected, then.". Salazar thought to himself. Harry looked at him questioningly, and he replied, "Once Riddle was gone, I tried to summon Serena, however, she ignored my voice. As a portrait, I may have retained my ability to speak parseltounge, but I have lost the authority a parselmouth carries. I have a theory for this, you see, when a person has a magical portrait made, which is a long and tedious task, not to mention expensive, they do not leave their astral projection or even a part of it in the portrait, if one were to try that, the portrait would explode or incinerate due to magical overdose. What they do is leave an imprint of it on the canvas. So, you see I only have the imprint of parseltongue, not the language itself, I am only the imprint of a specimen able to command the serpents, not the genuine product.…... I am Salazar Slytherin, yet I am not…. It may not fully make sense, such is the nature of magic at times, but you can understand what I am implying, can you not?"

"Y-Yeah, I think I do.". While Harry normally wasn't what you call a curious student, he was utterly fascinated by what he was hearing today – THIS was magical history, not the rubbish Binns went on about. THIS was magical theory, something wrapped in mystery and self-interpretation, not the fixed, rigid and technical theory taught in Transfiguration, or even Charms to a lesser extent. He had not felt this enthralled by magic since the beginning of the first year, when they were first taught to 'feel' and 'channel' their magic.

"So, even if Serena did hear my call, it is entirely possible my voice did not even reach her, she had no reason to obey, did she? On one side was the one who carried the blood of her bonded wizard, and on the other, just an empty voice…. In the end, it was hardly a choice for her, and I also believe while leaving Riddle told her that since he was the last living descendant of Slytherin, she was to ignore any other commands…... a crafty move."

"So far, I have answered your questions honestly and with detail, and now, I would like for you to extend the same courtesy to me. First of all, you mentioned Serena died, do you know how?"

Oh boy. He had escaped this conversation last time, but there was no way out now.

"I know how she died, because… well because I'm the one who killed her.". At this, Salazar's eyebrows shot up and Harry saw two expressions on his face – surprise, and…. Respect? Appreciation? Something along those lines.

"Indeed? A magnificent feat, especially for one so young…. Tell me how."

And so, Harry began recounting the events of the chamber, how he was confronted by Riddle, up until his flight with Fawkes.

"Wonderful, it just had to be that goblin-made atrocity Godric the man-child would weave around, hadn't it?", Salazar spoke out dryly.

At Harry's amused expression, he replied, "This is no exaggeration, Godric, for all his talents was an insufferable man who never matured beyond the age of 17! Just my luck I had to be stuck with him!" Salazar said, grumbling the last part.

Harry let out a laugh at that- who knew the two founders had this type of comedic brotherly relationship. "That reminds me, it's rumoured you and Gryffindor had a fight over admitting muggleborns in the school, and you left when you were overruled. But I'm guessing that's not what happened, right?"

"Ah yes, the 'fight'. History has not been kind to me, and I hope that in the afterlife, whatever punishment I gave those who have ruined my reputation made a basilisk bite look tame by comparison… It is true, me and the other founders did have a fight, and I did leave the school, but those events are unconnected. While muggleborn students were the subject of our disagreement, it isn't what people believe today. Like I said before, it was not unheard-of in those days for a muggle community to kill anyone they found out to be magical. They did not understand our magic, hence they feared it, and our power. I argued that it was unsafe for these children to go back to the muggle world, and that they should stay at the castle. The others disagreed, not wanting to separate children from their families. Though in their defence, I suppose they did have a workable system - discrete compulsion charms were placed on accessories like bracelets or pendants to make people not ask questions about the school this muggleborn child attended, and their books and wands were kept at the school."

"I argued that not only did this system hinder their education, but that there still remained danger to their secrecy, and by extension to their lives…... And in the end, I was right, every now and then we would discover how a student had been lynched while at home…" Salazar let out a bitter laugh. "They were the ones who would kill a defenceless child, yet we were the monsters apparently…..."

There was a silence after that, broken by Salazar,

"Moving back to our main discussion, tell me what became of Riddle?"

Harry let out a laugh, "He started calling himself Lord Voldemort, became one of the most feared dark-lords of all time, brought war to Britain, came to kill me specifically for some reason, killed my parents, then tried killing me, but I got saved by a protection given to me by my mother, and his killing curse rebounded on him. He died, but managed to live on as a wraith. This was my second meeting with him in as many years."

Salazar let out another sigh," So it is as I feared, he went to take a dark and twisted path. Before we go on to how he survived, you said your mother's protection saved you?"

Harry went to explain how his mother's sacrifice gave him a protection that made Voldemort unable to touch him.

"Aah, she performed an ancient ritual, whether she meant to do it or did it accidentally, I do not know. However, she has my respect, she was truly a wonderful parent, she may not have been there to raise you, but never forget she gave her own life for yours."

"I won't." Harry replied solemnly, his eyes getting a little watery.

"What happened to you after your parents' death?"

"There isn't much to be honest, I grew up with my last living relatives, the Dursleys - my mother's sister's family. They're muggles, so I didn't even know I was a wizard until Hagrid – the gamekeeper, brought me my Hogwarts letter."

"They hate magic, don't they?"

"What makes you say that?" Said Harry a little defensively.

"You said you didn't know you were a wizard because you lived with muggle relatives, that does not make sense. Your aunt was always aware of your heritage, yet she CHOSE not to tell you. I also noticed you scoff at when I mentioned muggles accepting one of their own as a wizard… You did not have a pleasant childhood, did you?"

"I don't want to talk about it, ask me something else." Harry said bitterly.

"Have you ever shared the full story of your childhood with anyone?"

"No, I have not, and no I am not going to, I don't need anyone's sympathy! Now drop it!" Harry screamed out the last part.

"I understan-"

"No, you don't! You don't understand at all! I don't need your empty words and….just DROP IT WILL YOU!" Harry was starting to tear up a little, as memories from his miserable time at the Dursleys flooded his mind.

"Very well, I will drop the matter, though you will find my words are not empty, they are far from it. You forget the era I belong to – there were plenty of muggleborn students who had been shunned by their own in my time…. One of them being myself."

Harry was left gobsmacked by the bombshell dropped by Slytherin. He stared at the portrait, eyes wide and mouth hung open. He did NOT expect that. He had assumed Salazar Slytherin to be a pureblood, after all, wasn't it his house that spouted all that nonsense blood purity? Wasn't it under his name that Voldemort tried to 'cleanse' the school of 'mudbloods'?

The whole Slytherin theory of blood supremacy was a lie - one big, white, lie.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, if anyone should be ashamed, it is your 'relatives'", the older man said, spitting out the last word. "I was a teacher for many decades, child, and have taught and lived amongst hundreds of children, so trust me when I say you should talk about it. If you do not wish to tell me, that is fine, but do tell SOMEONE, suppressing what is clearly a very strong and unresolved experience will only hinder you."

Harry contemplated telling Slytherin, eventually deciding there was no harm in telling him. And so, it began. Harry explained that is was Dumbledore – the headmaster who asked his relatives to take him in, leaving him on their doorstep with nothing but a letter. Then, he let out everything about his life before Hogwarts –how he didn't know his own name until he started school, how he lived in a cupboard under the stairs for 10 years, how he was made to cook breakfast and occasionally other meals for them since was 7 but only got meagre portions to eat himself, how scared his uncle's yelling made him, how his cousin and his gang isolated and picked on him at school, how he didn't know what his parents looked like till he saw them in the 'mirror of erised'….. Each incident he narrated brought another into his mind, and eventually he started to cry as he bitterly recounted his time at the Dursleys. Turns out the founder was right, while it was painful to go through memories locked away for so long, it was strangely comforting, telling someone did make it better. He spoke continuously for over half an hour, finishing at how Hagrid brought him his acceptance letter. When he finally stopped, his voice had grown hoarse, and he was emotionally exhausted.

"Did your aunt and uncle ever hurt you physically?" Salazar asked Harry, who was sat on the floor and staring downwards.

"No, but I don't think it's because it was beyond them to hit a child – they've done much worse. No, I think it was because I didn't give them a reason to. I was the perfect servant, I cooked, I cleaned, I did the lawn and the laundry…... every chore they gave to me was done perfectly; I didn't give them a reason to complain…" Harry spoke, still staring at the floor.

"Harry, look at me", Salazar said with a softness Harry didn't think was possible. He was a little surprised by the gentleness of the voice, and by the founder using his first name. He looked up to meet the eyes of the ancient wizard.

"You have endured a lot of pain and misery in your young life, and for no fault of your own. Your relatives are the scum of the earth, they cannot be considered human – they are filth. But their treatment of you goes beyond their inability to understand, and hence fear magic. There is also jealousy.". Salazar let the words sink in. "To me, it seems that your uncle is simply a terrible excuse of a human being and a fool who believed treating you like garbage would "Stamp it out" of you. He is much like the muggles that existed during my time. Your aunt, however, is different. She is jealous of your mother and of you. Don't believe me? Go back to the words she used when you first found out you were magical."

"Knew! Of course, we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

"You also mentioned how pretty your mother was, while you called the filthy muggle a 'horse-faced bitch' if I remember correctly."

"So Petunia is jealous of 'freaks'?!" Harry said disbelievingly

"Yes, I do believe I have read the situation perfectly. So here we have two sisters, Lily - extremely pretty and 'magical', and Petunia, who is rather plain and 'ordinary'. Lily receives more attention from her parents and this leaves Petunia extremely jealous. She starts hating her sister for overshadowing her and puts it all down to magic. Slowly, she starts to hate magic, and consoled herself that magic is a disease, and that she is the blessed one of the sisters. This is of course, just that, a consolation, and Petunia still knows deep down that her sister is the 'special' one. Later on, she is forced to take custody of her sister's only son. Petunia not only sees the child as a burden, but also a representation of her sister. She hates this child instantly, and immensely. She neglects and belittles him; it is her way of getting back at her sister for overshadowing her all those years. It is also her way of getting rid of some of the inferiority complex she developed – she, a muggle has a wizard as her servant, in her mind she is superior to a magical now. She does not see she is punishing a child for no fault of his own, or how cruel her behaviour is, she is too consumed by jealously by now. In fact, I conjecture she had a hand to play in her husband's view of magic"

"Oh my god…it….it all makes sense now….. she…. she did all this…. For revenge…. Revenge! How…. What was my fault in all this!?" Harry said bitterly.

"It is not your fault at all, like I said before, the blame for your childhood lies solely at the feet of your relatives…... and Dumbledore I suppose."

"I hate them so much." Harry said in a voice full of venom and bitterness that should not be possible for a twelve-year old.

"Take your time, I will wait while you gather yourself. If you wish to leave, you may do so as well, you can come back again later."

"Tempus." Red numbers shot out of Harry's wand.

'19:21'

"I need to go. It's not that I don't want to stay and talk more, it's just that I've been gone for a long time, and my friends will be looking for me. Besides, Dumbledore will get suspicious if I don't show up for dinner."

"Yes, it would be prudent for you to leave. I presume you will be coming back?"

"Yeah, I'll be back, I have an invisibility cloak, so I can sneak out at night "

"No, it is too risky, you may get caught by a patrol. Come back early in the morning, when everyone is asleep."

Harry groaned at having to wake up early, but he conceded the point.

"Sure, I'll be back….. Salazar?"

"Yes child?"

"Thank you."