Author's thanks: Foremost to Seldes Katne, my SQ Professor. To Calis-chan, who I hope gets that teaching position in Japan.

Author's note: Chapter 35 is divided into several parts. I've decided to follow the file weight of not more than 30kb per update since a 200kb chapter would be too large.

Reminder: Godric's alias is Godfrey Gloucester. Salazar's is Sextus Scaevola. Rowena's is Rachel Regius. Helga's is Hannah Hawthorn. Rowena cast a spell so that everyone who hears them will hear them referring to each other by their aliases, but to their own ears, they hear each other's real names. It's a complicated spell.

Hearts and Hourglasses
Chapter 35 - Part Two
The Hogwarts Monster

Where not only man remembers what has passed.

Salazar finally found Godric in a clearing deep inside the Forbidden Forest. He was not surprised to find Godric there though he was startled that this same open space would still exist even after a thousand years. However, it was, after all, a special place where unicorns usually gathered to frolic.

Godric was seated in the very center, amidst dead yellow, orange and brown leaves, which rustled loudly and crackled as Salazar walked through them. The other wizard didn't stir at his approach, but he knew Godric knew he was there. If there was a location that Godric favored most in the world, it was this place. Salazar didn't know why, exactly, but he gathered it had something to do with unicorns.

"Godric," said Salazar when he was a mere three steps away. He couldn't see Godric's face, only his back. Not a single muscle moved or twitched at Salazar's call. After a long while had passed, he grew impatient with having to wait for Godric to acknowledge his presence. He had already made the opening move. It was Godric's turn at the board now.

He decided to wait a little while longer before turning to leave, but as he did so, he heard the sound of leaves being disturbed and turned back to see Godric standing up slowly, brushing the dirt, twigs and leaves from his robes.

Eyes, the color of chestnut, were calm and collected as he turned towards Salazar, who felt bothered as guilt surge again inside him and urged him to apologize, to say sorry, to ask forgiveness. With an inward growl at himself, he stubbornly pushed away the deprecating inclinations and simply gave a stiff short nod to Godric as a greeting.

Godric gave a slight tilt of his head as an answer, and Salazar relaxed a little. As always, he considered it strange how this Light wizard drew reluctant respect from him.

It was peculiar. Salazar eyed Godric carefully, seeing a wizard of ordinary height with flaming red hair and a properly trimmed beard hiding his youthful features. It was Helga who had suggested to Godric to grow a beard to make him seem as old as his age for the wizard had the misfortune (some would consider it fortuitous) to always appear more youthful than his years.

The beard did help somewhat though Salazar considered the extra facial hair cumbersome.

"What is it, Salazar?" said Godric, and much to Salazar's irritation, gladness made its presence known forcefully, nearly making him smile with relief that Godric was speaking to him. Salazar then realized he must have been worried that the other wizard would refuse to talk to him because of what had happened around a month ago when Godric had found out that Salazar's real self had broken his promise about Avada Kedavra.

Salazar opened his mouth to reply, and adding to his discomfort, he found that he had nothing to say to Godric. Rather than keeping his mouth open wordlessly, he shut it close, jaws snapping together. Salazar winced when he accidentally bit the flesh of his mouth. And there was an amused sound from the other wizard.

"Salazar Slytherin speechless," murmured Godric with a delighted chuckle.

He threw a mock glare at Godric. "Don't consider it a victory," he countered, ignoring the pain in his mouth and forcing himself not to stutter because of it.

"Not at all," returned Godric easily, "for clearly your lack of words was only unfortunately a temporary state of being."

Honestly, Salazar was taken aback by eloquence so rarely (in Salazar's case, never) heard from Godric, who frowned when Salazar expressed amazement.

"Salazar," a peeved Godric muttered, "just because I do not utter fanciful words, phrases and sentences all the time does not mean I cannot be a statesman when I wish to be. ... Oh, for the love of- don't give me that look!"

"They must have done something to you in Hierthent..." Salazar trailed off worriedly.

"Salazar..." growled Godric warningly.

"You're an imposter! I demand to know where the genuine Godric Gryffindor is- Oof!" Godric had tackled Salazar in midsection, and both wizards fell to the ground, laughing and pummeling each other in play. Autumn leaves scattered upwards and away from the wrestling duo. It was unclear who was winning as both were equal in strength and endurance though when the fraternal battle was through, Salazar looked worse off since Godric had managed to stuff more leaves into his robes.

"Eyuch!" Salazar was still grousing as they neared the portkey point in the forest. All the way, Godric pointedly ignored the other wizard's complaints about the worms, bugs, leeches ("Salazar, stop whining.") that inhabited in abundance dead and decaying foliage.

As they were about to reach their destination, Salazar suddenly stopped. Godric continued on for a few steps, then stopped. Curious, he turned back to Salazar, who, in spite of the twigs in his hair and leaves still falling out of his robes, conveyed seriousness.

"About the Crysalis, Godric-"

"Salazar, I know you're not going to apologize about breaking your promise, and neither do I want to hear your apology. Let us leave it at that. It is done."

"You are still angry."

"Of course, I am still angry!" Salazar almost stepped back from the hurt fury in Godric's face. Why can't he just be angry?! Salazar thought, struggling with the difficult emotion himself. He didn't know whether he was angry at himself or at Godric or both. All Salazar knew was that he didn't want to see hurt in those brown eyes.

Hurt. Betrayed. Trust broken. If only Godric did not trust so unconditionally. It was ironic that though he knew he might be betrayed, he still trusted wholeheartedly. Such faith in other people, such belief, so pure that no matter how he prepared himself to be disappointed, he was still hurt deeply. He possessed such high hope in others.

He believed in me... Salazar almost turned away. The disappointment in those eyes was terrible, as sharp as one of their owner's treasured swords. Even keener than shiny polished blades, for Salazar felt as though his self-respect was a tangible thing, which was being sliced away from him.

Do not look at me that way, he almost whispered and felt fiercely glad when Godric finally turned away and continued walking. Salazar had been close to making excuses, almost attempting to turn away blame by explaining that it would be foolhardy to leave now with the Thirteen in this time and Hierthent.

However good the reasoning be, Godric knew Salazar had recharged the Source before they discovered the Thirteen still existed in Hierthent. Salazar had planned to use the Thirteen as a reason in persuading Godric to allow him to extend the Source's power. If it hadn't been for Fawkes, his breaking Godric's word would have remained secret. Why had that idiotic phoenix appeared the way it did? Now, Salazar found himself wishing he hadn't immediately taken the opportunity to remain longer in this time when Draco showed him the feathers Fawkes had given the boy. Salazar had immediately used them of course. How could he have known then that he would come to regret it?

... Fool, Salazar berated himself as Godric disappeared into the trees ahead. What had you thought to ask of him? His forgiveness for breaking a useless fatal promise to him? How low you have fallen, Dark wizard, to start punishing yourself for breaking a silly thing such as a promise.

~*~*~

Lucius Malfoy arrived the next day with what seemed to be an army of reporters. Classes were cancelled and the entire school gathered in the Great Hall turned auditorium for the third time this year. Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to find seats in the third row, and the noise in the hall was deafening as everyone wondered out loud to each other as to why the Head of Hierthent had paid Hogwarts a visit.

"He has to be here to award Headmaster Dumbledore a chair," said Colin excitedly. He kept standing up from his seat to take picture of the VIPs in the front row. Lucius Malfoy was talking with Cornelius Fudge, whose squad of Aurors was scattered across the hall, keeping watchful surveillance. Harry was thankful that the Minister hadn't brought along any Dementors.

Finally, after what seemed too long, the hall fell silent as Lucius Malfoy climbed onto the stage. By the time he turned to face his audience, it was so quiet that a dropped pin could have been heard. There was breathless anticipation in the air, and Harry sat up attentively and eyed Mr. Malfoy, who was beginning his speech, with extreme wariness.

"I believe it fitting to dispense with formal introductions as I am certain you all know who I am. ("Oh, geez. What a show off," muttered Ron.) And of course, we have with us today, His Excellency, Minister Cornelius Fudge." There was polite applause as Fudge stood up and bowed in every direction. When the pudgy wizard was seated once again, Malfoy raised his hand and made a come-hither gesture. Puzzled, Harry followed the direction of where he was looking at and turning towards the main doors, he saw procession of six white robed wizards entering the Great Hall and bearing what appeared to be a shrouded litter upon their shoulders.

There was a collective curious murmuring all around as these wizards walked through the middle aisle, up the stage, where they carefully deposited their load. Malfoy nodded his head at them, and each of them reached out and took hold of the white sheet covering the object they had brought. In unison, they lifted the coverlet and revealed a block of black glass underneath. The entire audience seemed to hold their breaths when they saw it. Everyone knew what it was. It was one of the thirteen chairs, and a cold sinking feeling weighed down in Harry's stomach as Lucius Malfoy turned back towards them. Pale gray eyes swept across the room, and for an instant, they rested on Harry Potter, who flinched when the lightning scar on his forehead ignited in pain.

The next thing Harry knew, he was shoving and pushing his way through the row, bumping and crashing against knees and legs, landing awkwardly on other students' laps. He was desperate to reach the aisle. He barely heard his friends' worried questions. When he finally exited his row, he immediately rushed to the first row, heading for Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Harry, what is the matter?" Dumbledore's kindly bearded face was concerned and seemed to swim crazily in Harry's vision. He squeezed his eyes shut for several moments. When he opened them, Dumbledore's worried visage was steady.

"That's not Lucius Malfoy," Harry whispered urgently. "It's him." He thought his voice was low enough for only Dumbledore to hear, but in the corner of his eye, he saw Fudge shaking his head at him. Harry heard the Minister's mutterings clearly.

"Harry Potter again with his insane accusations. Really, has he not enough attention already? Fame has clearly turned his head."

I'm not trying to get attention! Harry wanted to shout, but only a hissed of pain emerged from his mouth as someone's bony fingers cut into his shoulders.

Before Harry could say anything more, insist that Lucius Malfoy, standing on the stage, was in fact, Voldemort, Professor Snape's harsh voice hissed into his ear, ordering him to be quiet. Harry then found himself being propelled away from Dumbledore by Snape. He resisted and stumbled often, the professor nearly always having to hold him up. He vaguely realized that hundreds of pairs of eyes were staring at him, and that there was a numbing roar in his ears. Snape was leading him to the door where he had entered once before as a candidate for the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year.

The door opened before him, and Snape shoved him into the room.

Harry's shoes skidded on the smooth stone floor, and he fell forward, landing heavily on his arms and elbows. Instinctively, he pushed himself back up, turning to see Snape close the door behind him. The next thing he did would have made Harry laugh had the situation not been as dire. Snape began removing the paintings from the walls, practically ripping them off. Harry heard the pictures frantic cries and protests, and Harry turned worried when Snape headed to the fireplace. Its cold hearth burst into flame at the teacher's approach.

He struggled to his feet to rescue the hapless paintings, but Snape marched passed the fireplace to a cabinet into which he piled the pictures. As he turned back to Harry, the boy felt embarrassed that he had thought the Potions Master would throw the paintings into the fire.

Seeing the expression on Harry's face, Snape deciphered what he had been thinking and scowled heavily at Harry, who suddenly remembered-

"That's not Lucius Malfoy out there," he told Snape urgently. "It's Voldemort."

The angry irritation drained from Snape's face. His black eyes were unreadable, and Harry grew more uncomfortable as seconds passed, and Snape continued regarding him.

Then, much to Harry's horror, his scar again flared in pain. Automatically, he reached up the cover the old wound, stumbling away from Snape with a panicked cry. He landed heavily against a wall, now bare of paintings, his other hand reaching into his pocket for his wand.

"So you think I am Lord Voldemort as well," asked Snape softly, sounding very weary.

Harry swallowed hard before answering in an unsteady tone, "My scar hurt just now."

Snape nodded. "That's because every Death Eater is an extension of Lord Voldemort." He lifted his left arm and tugged down its sleeve until Harry could see the Dark Mark on his forearm. It was glowing, turning from bloody red to dead black and back, pulsing with malevolence.

"He is growing stronger, Potter," whispered Snape. "He is regaining his former strength, and I'm certain you have felt the summonings."

He had indeed. His scar throbbed in pain often these days, so much so that he had gotten used to the headaches, which mercifully only lasted the times the scar burned.

"Where is he now?" Harry finally ventured to ask, taking a leap at the chance that Snape might know and perhaps they would be rid of Voldemort sooner.

His hope died when the other wizard snorted with derision. "Even if I know, Potter, it would be useless," he answered dryly. "None dare go after him."

"... Voldemort is that powerful?"

"He is immortal, Potter." Snape grew impatient at the uncertainty in Harry's eyes. "You must have heard him speak of his experiments." When Snape said that, it was as though a hidden chest was unlocked in Harry's mind. A cold high-pitched voice began rambling.

I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah... pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost... but, I was still alive. What I was, even I do not know... I, who have gone further than anyone along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked... for I had not been killed, though the curse would have done it.

Snape nodded with approval when understanding came across Harry's face. "Haven't you ever wondered why he named his followers Death Eaters?"

Harry answered slowly, "Because he was searching for immortality."

"Exactly, Potter," said Snape, his voice taking on a lecturing tone. "About twenty-four years ago, Voldemort began recruiting members for an elite group, whose main objective was to conquer death."

"... Not to cause death?" Harry was very dubious.

"Let me finish, Potter," Snape snapped, aiming an irritated glare at Harry who retained his doubtful expression. "Long before he founded the Death Eaters, Voldemort has already began experimenting with potions and elixirs which he had hoped would grant him immortality."

"Did he try to create a Philosopher's Stone?"

"He attempted, but those things are near impossible to make."

"I bet he tried to steal Mr. Flamel's stone even then."

"No, actually, Mr. Flamel was quite happy to share the stone with his apprentice."

"... What?"

"Little hard of hearing, Potter? Really now, and at your age-"

"Voldemort was Nicholas Flamel's apprentice?!"

"When he was still known as Tom Riddle," Snape said informatively.

"..."

"You look a little unsteady on your feet, Potter. Do sit down."

~*~*~

"As I have said before, Lucius, I refuse."

"You are a fool, Albus!"

In the Great Hall far below, a low rumble of shock, curiosity and discontent underlined the statements uttered by the three wizards upon whom every eye was focused and whose words every ear strained to hear.

Rowena stepped forward to the mirror showing to them the occurrences below. Helga glanced towards her as she raised her hand and rested her palm on the mirror's shimmering rim. At once, the picture changed, the mirror's eye moved forwards through the main aisle, passing rows of restless students and focusing instead on Albus, Fudge and Lucius Malfoy.

Albus was standing. Short Fudge was on his feet as well and berating the taller wizard for refusing Lucius Malfoy's gift. Albus remained silent to Fudge disbelieving and insulting words while on the dais, Lucius stood silently, his hand upon the back of the obsidian chair and watching Albus intently. Helga had difficulty interpreting the hard expression on Lucius' face. She thought the light in his eyes was that of relief, but why would he be glad that his offer was refused?

"Lucius is being forced to do this," Rowena murmured softly.

"What do you mean, Rowena?" Helga asked, knowing that Rowena must have heard the uncertainty in her mind.

"Lucius does not wish Hogwarts to be in the Thirteen's control." Receiving one of the thirteen chairs had its great rewards, but there was a price to pay upon becoming one of the Thirteen. Every member's land and holdings, family and belongings also belonged to the coalition.

"The chair must be removed at once," Salazar declared quietly.

Godric glanced at him sharply. "Why, Salazar?"

"It is a living part of Hierthent. If it stays here too long, a permanent portkey link will be established between Hogwarts and Hierthent."

"Then it must go now," said Helga. But before she could leave, there was a ruckus in the mirror as Fudge complained loudly that Albus would rather heed the words of famous Harry Potter.

Albus' eyes glittered like blue ice, and Helga was reminded strongly of Rowena's father, Regius Ravenclaw. Though he remained silent, Fudge was frightened by the cold terrible expression on Albus' face, and he almost took a step backwards away from the Head of Hogwarts.

But fear further loosened Fudge's tongue instead of stilling it. "So, Albus, you think Lucius here is You Know Who?" Helga frowned at Fudge's paltry attempt to regain his brave front.

Albus said somberly, "Cornelius, please calm your-"

"I am calm, Albus. I am." Fudge's small eyes were wide with a manic gleam in them. "In fact, never has my thoughts been as clear and unaffected as they are now."

"I've always wondered why you never went after You Know Who yourself. After all, Albus, you are considered as the greatest wizard in our time, the most powerful magician. You did defeat Grindelwad."

"Cor-"

"Do not interrupt, Albus." Fudge straightened proudly, regaining a sembleance of nobility. "Tell me," he told Albus in a sly voice, "Why do you not rid us of our greatest enemy once and for all? Why don't you simply defeat You Know Who as you did Grindelwad?"

Everyone waited for Albus to answer, but many long moments passed, and he didn't. He remained silent, steadily regarding Fudge whose twitching and fidgeting worsened.

His next words drew a gasp of indignation from the entire room. "You're in league with You Know Who, aren't you?"

Minerva McGonagall furiously stood up from her chair. "How dare you make such an accusation?!" But Fudge was not waylaid by the taller witch towering with rage over him. He raised his hand and pointed a trembling finger at Dumbledore. "You Know Who doesn't interfere with him, and he doesn't interfere with You Know Who! Why is this so?!"

"Your mumblings make no sense!" shouted Minerva.

"For nearly twenty years, You Know Who preyed on our community, caused unimaginable suffering, laid waste to our sense of security. No one was safe from him. No place a sanctuary from his evil, except for Hogwarts under the directorship of Albus Dumbledore."

"What exactly are you saying, Cornelius?" Albus' collected voice cut through the rising din and silenced it.

"I am saying that perhaps the reason why You Know Who never attacked Hogwarts was because you and he had a previous arrangement!"

"That's preposterous!" Filius Flitwick declared.

"Which is more ridiculous? An explanation for his inaction where You Know Who is concerned or his safeguarding a boy who is possibly the Heir of Slytherin?!"

"That old hat," Minerva snapped. "Harry Potter isn't Salazar Slytherin's Heir."

"But You Know Who is!" Fudge said with triumphant. The teachers defending Dumbledore were taken aback by this statement, and Fudge continued his attack on Albus. Helga could barely understand his ramblings.

"Yes, I know who You Know Who is. I've been informed only recently. Imagine my surprise when I was told that the greatest bane of our society once studied at Hogwarts, and that he was the one who opened the supposed nonexistent Chamber of Secrets over fifty years ago."

"Why are you bringing this up, Cornelius?" asked Dumbledore in a frozen tone of voice.

"Because I know the true reason why he doesn't dare attack Hogwarts!"

Fudge stomped to the door through which Severus Snape had taken Harry. He threw the door open and marched in, coming out a few moments later with the boy. Fudge dragged Harry out back into the hall and commanded him to show them where the Chamber of Secrets was.

~*~*~

"Do you know what the Philosopher's Stone can do, Potter?"

"Yes, Professor Snape. It can turn base metal into gold and can create the Elixir of Life."

"What else do you know about it?"

"That only one stone was known to have ever existed."

"Correct. Only Nicholas Flamel has ever succeeded in creating the first and only Philosopher's Stone."

"I know all this already."

"Be patient, Potter. The Philosopher's stone produces countless riches and immortality, and yet, there is little interest in it. Do you know why?"

"... I suppose if there is so much gold in the world, the metal would be worthless instead of valuable."

"Such insightfulness from you, I am stunned. What of the Elixir of Life? Surely, life will never lose its value."

"... I guess Mr. Flamel didn't want to share the Philosopher's stone."

"Wrong, Potter. He offered the Elixir of Life to many people, his family and friends, even strangers, much to their detriment."

"What do you mean?"

"The Elixir of Life grants the drinker immortality, but claims his ability to give life."

"... Huh?"

"In other words, Potter. Drink the Elixir of Life, and you cannot procreate."

"Oh."

"Centuries ago, Nicholas Flamel finally created the most sought after Philosopher's Stone. He was wise enough to realize that the stone's existence must be kept secret. However, he had a generous heart and secretly donated money to charities and to people he decided deserved giving to. He was always careful and produced gold only in small quantities as to not detrimentally affect the value of gold.

"At private gatherings in his home, he would slip little amounts of the Elixir of Life in the cups of his family and friends and even strangers he barely knew. However..."

"They couldn't have children after taking the elixir."

"Correct, Potter. When Mr. Flamel realized this unfortunate side effect, he had already given the elixir to all of his relations and his friends and countless strangers. Many families were doomed."

"That's terrible."

"Indeed. Guilty of his mistake, Mr. Flamel hid away the Philospher's stone and devoted his time to finding a cure."

"Did he find one?"

"Yes, in a matter of speaking, Muggles held the cure. He and his wife, the only other person who knew about the stone, played matchmaker and persuaded many wizards and witches to intermarry with Muggles. When the crisis had passed, he publicly revealed the Philospher's Stone and admitted the grave sin he had committed to our kind.

"Many forgave Nicholas Flamel, but many were incensed. The latter consisted of old wizarding families who didn't want their heritage sullied by Muggle blood."

"But they didn't have a choice."

"There is always another choice, Potter. A few chose extinction. Some chose to intermarry with Muggles. Some chose to breed with the giants, veela, merpeople, centaurs, vampires even with werewolves."

"... I never heard about this in history class."

"It is a time few wish to remember. There is no heroism as such would exist in times of war and strife. Only the indignities our kind suffered at the hands of a would-be god."

"Mr. Flamel only meant to help."

"Our kind almost died out because of his help."

"... What about Voldemort?"

"Ah. Such was his desire for immortality that he sought out Nicholas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone. Mr. Flamel was still offering the Elixir of Life to whoever desired and asked for it even though very few individuals were made content by the elixir."

"Why is that so, Professor?"

"Someday, Mr. Potter, perhaps you will understand that it is not having a long life span or riches, which makes people truly happy. Now, let us go back to the story of Nicholas Flamel and Tom Riddle.

"Mr. Riddle partook of the Elixir of Life, but as expected, he was not satisfied. The elixir only extended life; it doesn't make the drinker invisible or invulnerable to death. Even having drank the elixir, Mr. Riddle was still susceptible to mortal wounding. So. He conducted experiments with himself as the guinea pig. And one or some of them were successful. He is as close to being a god as a human being can possibly be, but not close enough. Because of your mother's sacrifice, his own spell rebounded upon him and nearly killed him. Possessing Quirrel, he tried to contact his old mentor, Mr. Flamel, but the latter had hidden himself and his wife away with Albus Dumbledore as their secret keeper and safeguarding the Philosopher's Stone.

"The stone was bait, Potter. It was meant to draw Voldemort out into the open."

And what else Snape would have told Harry was left unsaid as all of a sudden Fudge burst into the room.

~*~*~

For the third time, Harry was in the Chamber of Secrets, and he would rather have been with the basilisk than having to deal with Cornelius Fudge, who was gripping Harry's elbow so tightly, his forearm had gone numb.

"All right, boy, summon it."

Summon what?! Harry almost yelled as he tried to free himself.

"This is madness, Cornelius," said Dumbledore who had accompanied them as well as McGonagall and Flitwick. The other professors had stayed above to keep other peoplpe from jumping down the secret pipeway in the third floor girls' bathroom.

Fudge pointedly ignored Dumbledore and again ordered Harry to summon it.

"Summon what?!"

"Don't play dumb, boy! Summon Slytherin's monster!"

... The basilisk? "It's dead," he told Fudge, who went purple.

"Do you think I'm stupid?!"

"But it's true!" Harry pointed the huge snake skull lying on the chamber floor a few feet away from them. "That's all that's left of it."

Fudge still didn't believe him and began shaking Harry so hard that he lost his balance and fell down hard on his backside.

"Enough!" shouted McGonagall, helping Harry stand up. As soon as she was convinced Harry was uninjured, she confronted Fudge, threatening to transfigure him into a toad if he ever manhandled a Hogwarts student again.

"Be silent, woman!" Wands were drawn out, but Dumbledore and Flitwick intervened, keeping an imminent duel at bay.

"Do calm down, Minister," an unfamiliar voice echoed sonorously in the chamber. Harry turned about frantically, trying to find the voice's owner. He stilled when a shrouded figure emerged from behind one of the serpent-ornamented pillars, and his scar began to burn when cool hazel eyes met his. ... A Death Eater?

Harry stumbled backward as Fudge rushed towards the stranger, shouting, "Tom," in a glad voice. But as the roundtound wizard neared the newcomer, Tom raised his hand, and Fudge suddenly slowed, stopped and tumbled forward, falling flat on his face.

"He is too noisy," commented Tom in a bored tone, and as an afterthought added that they shouldn't worry. "The Minister is only sleeping," he said.

"You." Dumbledore took a step forward. Harry felt as though he was trying to shield them. "Imperius?" the Headmaster queried softly.

Tom smiled slyly and shrugged. "What else? And not much of a challenge. He is ridiculously easy to manipulate."

"... Why have you brought us here?"

"I am not interested in you, Minerva or Filius."

Harry suddenly found himself flanked by McGonagall and Flitwick with Dumbledore in front of him. Tom chuckled. "Yes, I must admit I do have unfinished business with Harry Potter, but-" His eyes flicked past them. "He isn't why you are all here."

Harry turned to see what Tom was looking at, and almost choked in panic when the Founders entered into the chamber. Draco was with them.

McGonagall breathed in sharply and grabbed Harry's wrist. She pulled Harry towards the door. Flitwick ran ahead and took hold of Draco's arm as well. Both professors herded the two boys to wait by the chamber entrance before joining the others.

Salazar stepped in line with Dumbledore and addressed Tom, "Tell them it will not work, Voldemort."

A corner of Voldemort's mouth twitched. "I am assuming you are referring to the chair, Salazar."

Salazar nodded, and Helga moved forward, but Rowena held her back.

"Rachel, let me go."

"It's too dangerous, Hannah. He might attack them." Her blue eyes flicked to Harry and Draco. Helga's eyes followed, and she frowned, reluctantly heeding Rowena.

"I have told Lucius to remove the chair from Hogwarts," Salazar told Voldemort, who sneered, saying, "And I am certain he was most eager to comply with your request." His eyes settled on Draco, who remained still. "Your father was quite unenthusiastic in presenting the chair to your Headmaster."

"What about the chair?" Dumbledore asked Godric, who answered that if it stayed in Hogwarts longer, a portkey link would be set between the school and Hierthent.

Dumbledore frowned at this, turning his attention back to Voldemort. "You made Cornelius cause a scene so that we would be distracted, and so that the chair would have stayed a longer time in the school?"

"Sounds desperate, doesn't it?" Voldemort said lazily, and Dumbledore shook his head. "No," the headmaster muttered, "you are far cleverer than that."

"How flattering," said Voldemort. Dumbledore ignored him. "You are after something else."

"What else could I want other than this school?"

Salazar was also frowning. "You know any attempt to annex Hogwarts to Hierthent will fail as long as I am here," he said to Voldemort, whose eyes suddenly turned crafty.

"Very true, Salazar Slytherin," said Voldemort softly.

Rowena suddenly gasped, drawing all their attention. Her eyes were wide with shock. "He's after Sextus' students."

"What?!" Helga stepped past Salazar, and Voldemort, his expression now wary, backed away, raising both his hands peaceably. His eyes, narrowing, were locked on Rowena.

"... A mindreader," he muttered. "I hadn't expected this." He reached into his robes. Everyone did the same, thinking he was taking his wand out. However, he only drew out a large silver medallion.

"Here." He tossed it to Salazar, who caught the object easily. The metal had been fashioned into the coiled shape of a serpent, which was biting its own tail.

"What is this?" asked Salazar, puzzled. He fingered the piece of jewelry.

Voldemort answered, "It is yours. I found it here many years ago."

In Salazar's hand, the silver serpent twitched. Its thumb-sized jaws moved and let go of its tail. The slender foot long silver snake twined itself around Salazar's wrist like a bracelet and began to glow.

As did the entire Chamber of Secrets.

Long wisps of smoke blew from corners and cracks and the edges where wall met wall, floor and ceiling. They swirled about, going around and round, becoming more numerous with every passing moment until it felt as though they were standing in the calm eye of a short and slow moving tornado.

"They're snakes," Draco suddenly whispered, and Harry's eyes widened. The other boy was right. They were serpents, each long silvery wisp a sinuous reptile. There were hundreds of them. As Harry watched, they began to meld with each other. Two serpents formed a larger longer single serpent. The latter joining with another and another until finally there was only one huge ghostly serpent winding gracefully around the chamber. Once its formation was finished, it stopped in front of them, drawing its coils around it. Its enormous head lifted from the floor gracefully; its large shiny iridescent green eyes blinked at them. They seemed curious, not dangerous.

Thrice as large as the basilisk Harry had defeated in his second year and far more beautiful. It hissed softly, and Harry understood what it was saying.

What is your bidding, Masters?

To be continued.

Writers eat reviews. So. Feeeeeed me. Thank you.

Many thanks to the lovely people who left reviews for Chapter 35: Part One on my HnH story board, FF.net and by email.
If you want email updates for HnH, please include your email address in your review and say that you want fic updates.

FF reviewers: Silverfox (It would be childish if they had blamed Salazar just like that, but ::grins:: Godric & Helga would have raised a fuss about it being all Salazar's doing which is why only Rowena met the Trio.), Saerry Snape aka InsaneVampireWriter (I'm glad you told me. ^^), Taracollowen (Thank you very much. I hope you got the update.), Cailian13 aka Lauren (No chair for Dumbledore, and Lucius (Voldemort actually) gets to decide who gets them.), Annakas (Voldemort has a stool. Fudge is sitting on it for him.), ::glomps:: GAKED (Thank you! ^__^), Demeter (I'm pleased as punch that you like how Helga and the Malfoys are presented in HnH.), Urania (Triples are lucky, I think. Wvelte will be around.) & Miss Sera (I know... x.o;; It just kept getting longer and longer.)