Author's Note: I'm sorry about the massive stretch between this last update but I had Uni preparations, and also fell into the DBH fandom. I didn't want to force myself to push out chapters when I wasn't in the mood, and hopefully, I'll be uploading on a more regular basis. Things are still a bit hectic at the moment though, so I'll do my best.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4: into the Chamber

Ron and Hermione frantically raced up and down the platform of Hogsmeade station, trying to spot a mop of messy black hair amongst the other students.

"Where do you think he is?" Ron asked breathlessly, after spotting and joining Hermione amidst the other students.

"I don't know… he said he'd meet us here once he caught up to us… where on earth could he be?"

The two friends both heard the train's whistle blow, signifying its imminent departure from the platform.

Ron blanched. "You- you don't think he'll get left behind, do you?" He turned to Hermione, who was still desperately trying to spot their friend among the rapidly thinning crowd.

"Of course not! He…he must just already be on the train." But even as Ron watched Hermione say this, he could see that she wasn't completely sure about her answer. "We'll just have to get on and see if he's already found a compartment, and of we can't find him, then we'll tell one of the professors."

Ron nodded, before stepping onto the nearest carriage, Hermione following behind him.

Harry continued to watch in fascination as Dobby continued to levitate all the rubble into the correct places, before finally sealing the last of the cracks shut. It was like watching a highly complicated 3D puzzle being put back together.

"I's be done, Master Harry Potter sir." He said as Harry walked over to where Dobby was standing.

"Good, now we need to keep moving, so hopefully we'll be inside before it becomes night-time."

With that he continued down the passageway, eventually coming to a stop in front of the door that led to the main chamber.

~Open~

There was a loud grinding sound, where the hinges on the door slowly loosened to allow entrance for the two. As the door creaked open Harry felt a wave of magic pass over him, followed by the cool air of the chamber.

"Uh, Dobby, what was that magic that I just felt?" Harry asked as he turned to the small elf.

"That be the wards, sir, they be's the same as the ones used to prevent things from going bad."

They must be the same ones that are out there, but by the looks of it, they seem to be even stronger.

And it was true. As Harry walked through the door the torches flared, bathing the Chamber in warm orange light, in contrast to the green and grey of the chamber walls. Inside, he could see the large silhouette of the basilisk, still looking exactly the same as it had all those weeks ago. Tentatively walking up to it, he noticed that there was a pool of his blood by its head, which was still fresh.

"Eugh! My blood is still here, and it's still wet. The wards have preserved everything, gross."

Continuing to look around the chamber, Harry was able to take in more details than he was last time he was here. Although, at the time he had been suitably distracted, so that was honestly to be expected.

It seems like there are other areas of the Chamber, not just this one. There was the basilisk's nest in the mouth of the statue, but the chamber looks too large to just be one room, I wonder if there are others?

Walking over to the wall, he ran his hands over it at about elbow height, before he felt a small engraving that felt like a door handle.

There seem to be other small engravings on the walls as well. I wonder if these lead to different rooms?

Motioning Dobby over, Harry was standing at the first parseltongue engraving that was just to the left of the main statue. Upon further inspection, it seemed that there was a door handle just below, that was blended into the surrounding stone. Harry had to wait a moment before he could read the translated words.

Hmmm… It translates to… potions. Huh, this must be Slytherin's potion lab or something, I'll have to see if I can get it open.

Harry slowly stepped up and placed his hand over the engraving while holding the handle and pushed. Harry heard a slight grating sound and a deep red glow that seemed to emanate from the stone door. He also noticed that the enchantment concealing the door seemed to flicker, giving Harry a glimpse of a large hawthorn door, before reverting back to its disguised state. He tried again, but the door refused to budge.

"It's not working, there must be something else I have to do…what was that red glow? Is that what is keeping the door locked Dobby?"

"It be's blood magic that is protecting all of the rooms. That, and you's need to also say the password to get it to open, sir."

Password? How am I supposed to find out what the password is? It's been over a thousand years!

"I guess I'll have to leave it while I figure out what the password is, there must be something that could indicate what it is."

Harry moved on and found other doors leading to areas that were written as, library, reading room, office, and sleeping rooms, which Harry presumed mean bedroom. He stopped at the last one despite there being a few other rooms along the wall. He would look at those later. Again, placing his hand on the handle, Harry was not surprised when the door again refused to move.

I wonder if the password could be something really obvious, but Slytherin would have made sure that not just anyone could get in, maybe there is something in the library. The enchantments around that door seem to have broken down, as it is much easier to see.

Moving over to the library, he placed his hand on the door and started in surprise when it glowed a brighter red before opening. However, the door was still quite stiff, and Harry had to throw most of his weight against it to get the hinges to move. Once inside, he stood in awe at the magnificence of the room he had just walked into.

It had obviously been magically enlarged with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and a balcony that was around the height of the second floor. Compared to the cold, damp stone of the main area of the chamber, the floors were covered with large rugs, and tapestries covered the walls where books were absent. The bookshelves were made of a dark wood and made the entire library feel quite homey. Harry was in awe.

These books must be ancient, it looks as if most of them haven't been touched since the founder's time.

This struck Harry as odd, as Riddle would have come into the chamber to free the Basilisk, so unless he didn't see it while he was here?

There large carved tables scattered around the space, and one corner had a couple of wingback chairs arranged in it, next to a grand old fireplace. The room seemed to have strangely little paintings, except for the one that was currently empty hanging above the hearth.

That's strange, I wonder where the occupant is. They must have another painting up in the halls of Hogwarts if they aren't here.

Continuing to explore the room, Harry almost had a heart attack when he heard a voice calling to him from the other side of the room.

"And who are you?"

He spun around so fast he almost fell over. Glancing around the room, he checked that no one else was in the room with Dobby still being out in the main chamber. Harry then looked up at what had been a blank canvas, which now held the painting of a middle-aged man with greying hair and silver eyes. The portrait was wearing an emerald green medieval-style robe and had a snake wound around his forearm. Noticing the nameplate, he wasn't even surprised that it read: SALAZAR SLYTHERIN.

"You're Salazar Slytherin!" Harry choked out, even though he knew the entire chamber was made by the founder, he didn't expect the man to actually be there. Nobody really knew whether or not the founders had been painted, and if they had, the paintings had since been lost in time. It had been rumoured that there was only painting of each founder in existence, and Harry seemed to have found the one for Slytherin.

"That is correct. Now, no-one has been down here for years, so who might you be?" Slytherin kept studying him intently, and Harry ignored his staring in favour of answering the question.

"I'm Harry Potter sir. Am…am I allowed to be in here?" he questioned, and Slytherin continued to watch him intently.

"I don't see why not, you made it in here successfully, so you may continue to use anything that you wish. Although, how did you even manage to get down here? Only a parseltongue is able to get into the chamber, and you seem to be… well not of my house." Slytherin eyed Harry's Gryffindor robes as he said this.

"Well, I didn't really want to go back to my Aunt and Uncle this year, because they don't really like magic all that much, so… I decided to come down here and stay instead."

I wonder if he will help me, even as a painting, there must be lots of knowledge that he would still retain from his life.

Slytherin seemed to deliberate for a moment, before replying. "Even in my time there were many students who had less than stellar home lives, and we were able to do something about it. Has the same been done for you?"

Harry was surprised by Slytherin's geniality, as he thought that he would be colder and more hostile towards someone who was quite obviously wearing the Gryffindor insignia. If this was how the real Slytherin had behaved, then it seemed that somewhere along the line, history had become severely skewed. He was entirely different compared to the Slytherin recorded in history books.

"Don't you hate Gryffindors though? As well as believe that only purebloods can learn magic?"

Slytherin's glare seemed to pin him in place.

"No, I do not hate Gryffindors as you say, nor do I believe that only pure-blooded witches and wizards should receive a magical education. It is muggle-borns and their families pose a threat to magical society."

Harry was still a little uneasy about that line of thought. Obviously, Slytherin believed that muggle-borns were not good enough to learn, or something like that.

"What is wrong with muggle-born students? My best friend is a muggle-born and she's brilliant, the top of our class." Harry was proud of Hermione's abilities; she was one of the smartest witches he had ever met.

"It is not the students that I have an issue with, but it is more them and their family's attitude towards magic that is the reason that they need to be separated."

Harry frowned at this. If Slytherin believed that they should have a magical education, then why attempt to remove them from the school in the first place? Just as he was about to ask another question, Slytherin cut in with his own explanation.

"Tell me this Harry Potter, do you believe that during our time, magic was as widely accepted by muggles who have magical children as it is now?"

Harry thought for a moment but wasn't really sure about ancient magical history going back that far. All that Binns droned on about were the same couple of goblin wars. "Uhhh… no?" Harry said hesitantly, unsure of whether that was the correct answer or not.

"That is correct. When a magical child born to muggle parents was discovered, often the rest of the village believed that they were possessed by the devil. When another witch or wizard comes along to bring them to Hogwarts, what do you think happened? That they just let the child go quietly? You said that you do not wish to go back to your Aunt and Uncle because they do not like magic, but it was much worse for those of muggle-born descent in my time. Some children even agreed to come to Hogwarts with the intent to learn about the castle and its inhabitants, in order to take that information back and use it to kill their peers in an attempt to eradicate witchcraft. Many strong witches and wizards were killed defending magical families from mobs of fearful muggles, some even attacked one another on the principle that they might have a magical child."

Harry was shocked. This is the real reason that Salazar Slytherin wished to have a separate school for muggle-born students? To preserve the rest of the magical community and prevent discovery?

Why doesn't history remember him like this? Why is he only remembered as a magical supremacist who wanted to kill anyone who wasn't of pureblood descent?

As Harry continued to talk to Slytherin about the origin of the obviously false rumours of the present, he was unaware of the growing fuss that his sudden disappearance was causing.

Ron and Hermione had not found Harry on the train, and after several hours it was now nearing King's Cross. Their anxiousness had reached an all-time high, with Hermione looking like she was about to pass out in fear, and Ron not looking much better. They both agreed that once off the train, they would owl one of the Professors about the whereabouts of their friend.

"Hermione, is there any chance he might not have made it onto the train?" Ron asked again, still hoping that Harry might have just missed them, instead of being left behind.

"He should have," she replied, "no-one can stay over at the castle during the holidays, the teachers make sure that everyone goes home. If one of the teachers noticed that he wasn't on the train, they wouldn't have let it leave."

Ron frowned.

But that just doesn't add up, if all the teachers checked that all the students had left the castle, then why was Harry still missing?

They both heard the whistle that signified that the train had pulled into the station, and suddenly the noise outside their compartment doubled as students hurried to get off of the train.

"We'd better go and send that letter," Ron said, hastily standing and grabbing his trunk out from underneath the seat, watching as Hermione followed suit. After dragging their trunks off of the train, they quickly scanned the crowd of parents. Ron for the familiar red of the Weasleys, and Hermione for the brown and blonde of the Grangers. Spotting Ron's parents first, the duo made their way over, before Hermione excused herself to go and search for her parents further down the platform. She cast a significant look at Ron before departing.

Mr and Mrs Weasley had watched the exchange with worry, they had also noticed that Harry had not appeared when the other two had gotten off of the train. Just as they were about to ask what was wrong, the twins arrived, further delaying their inquiries into Harry's whereabouts.

Ron was still scanning the platform, waiting for Hermione's return, when he heard his mother's voice asking what was wrong. Looking back over, he saw the worried faces of his parents and the twins. Clearing his throat, he was about to launch into an account of what had happened, when he spotted Hermione and her parents and waved them over. Once Hermione was next to him, he started his explanation.

"We…we don't know where Harry is-" Ron started glancing around at all who were present. "-We met with him at the Entrance Hall after coming down from Gryffindor tower, but got separated on the way out and he didn't meet us on the train. We looked in all of the compartments and he wasn't there, so Hermione and were worried that he might not have made it back onto the express or something, otherwise, he would have met us there."

"We were going to send a note to one of the Professors," Hermione continued. "To see if they knew anything about where he had gone, but we were going to wait until now to send it, that way we could tell you."

Hermione had watched as Mrs Weasley had gone steadily paler, and Hermione know she was worried for the welfare of her honorary son.

"We must get home as quickly as possible then dear," she said, quickly ushering the rest of the family towards the nearest floo connection, which would then take them quickly to the Burrow. Offering a brief goodbye to Hermione and the Grangers, the parted ways and floo'd into Burrow. Ron didn't even bother going upstairs before he grabbed his trunk, threw it open, and snatched. Quill and some parchment from inside. He hastily penned a note to the professors, hoping it would reach someone in the castle by the evening.

Dear Professors,

We were just writing to let you know that we don't think that Harry made it home, as we got separated in the Entrance Hall and were unable to find him on the train. Could you please check that he makes it home safely if he didn't get on the train? We are both worried about him.

From,

Ron & Hermione.

Quickly signing Hermione's name as well, he waited for the ink to dry before rolling it up and giving it to Errol, who sluggishly flew out of the window. Ron watched the owl until he couldn't see it anymore, hoping that wherever Harry was, that he was okay.

Mate, how do you always get yourself into these messes?

TBC…

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Thanks for reading!

- Cay ;)