Discliamer: I don't own anything you'll recognize

A/N: Thanks to all the reviewers and to my beta Knarm for the awesome work!

Chapter Nineteen

Harry was floating away. He felt nothing, thought nothing.

Calm

Peace

Blank

Nothing

No troubles

White was surrounding him, no colors, no disturbances. He was at peace at last.

Then the white started to lose its purity, some colors made their way through: Black: anger, hatred, red, anger, blood, pain… green…. Forest, friends, calm…. Blue…. Water, calm… Black, red, green, blue, black, red…. A swirl of color was now surrounding him.

Panic rose inside him as tried to escape the colors, escape the feelings, trying to find his way back to the white.

Suddenly the white was back, protecting him once again sheltering him from the turmoil of the colors.

"Harry, I didn't think I would see you again, at least, not so soon…"

Immediately, Harry knew to whom this voice belonged. There was no mistaking.

"Odyeus…"

Little by little the figure of his ancestors appeared in front of him. He had not changed a lot, a bit more tanned, a few wrinkles here and there but that was it.

"Indeed… now what have you landed yourself into again? But then again, I feared this would happen, I just hoped one of the Ten would be nearby to help you… but nothing goes easy for you, doesn't it?"

"You knew!!"

"Of course I did! Do you think I could have missed it when I was a Warrior myself?"

Harry starred at his ancestor, stunned.

"What?"

"This is irrelevant. We have more important things to deal with currently. You have to listen carefully to me."

Completely confused, Harry nodded dumbly.

"You were meant to be a Healer, a damn powerful one if I say so myself, but your little encounter with this Dark Warrior changed it… Trying to ground your magic through your staff was a good idea and it would have worked if the Warrior parts you had gained hadn't been so ingrained in your core."

"What do you mean?"

Odyeus looked at him gravely.

"When you're back to your time, look up the Killing curse and the theory behind this, you'll understand what I mean…"

"But how can you know it… I mean, this curse hasn't been invented yet…"

Odyeus smiled indulgently at him.

"Harry, here, time has little meaning for me… But that's beside the point, just know that the crafting of your staff awoke your Healer's nature but at the same time, it stimulated your Warrior's side. Those two are now battling each other for control, destroying your magic in doing so. You're self destructing…"

Dread filled Harry.

"You can't go on like this, you have to chose which part you'll keep, this duality is killing you and has been hindering you so far."

"Can you tell me what would happen depending on my choice."

Odyeus looked at him, pensively.

"The future is not carved in stone, it fluctuates continualy… Nobody can say what it will be made of."

"Odyeus, spare me the Divination crap. You and I know better."

With a sigh the older started to speak.

"If you chose to be a Warrior, your chances to defeat Voldemort would be increased and the outcome would probably be in your favour. But that wouldn't come without a price. You would have no Healer to anchor your thirst for battles, so as time passed you would be driven either to suicide, madness or to the Dark, in a try to release yourself from this thirst."

Odyeus paused.

"If you were to choose your true nature, and become a Healer, your chance at defeating Voldemort would be lower than they would, since your oath would get in the way, should you win, the backlash of killing someone would probably kill you or strip you of your power at least, unless you find a way to destroy him which doesn't involve killing him. But should you manage to survive this, you would be able to live half-normally, as long as you have trusted people who will take care of your best interest and well being."

Harry sighed heavily.

"So, even if I were to survive Voldemort, I will probably die or go mad… Great!"

Odyeus looked at him with something akin to pity, a fact that annoyed Harry greatly. He could deal with compassion, sympathy but not with pity.

"Is that it? It will end like this?"

"I'm afraid it will, Harry… But then there's your Potter luck to take into the equation…"

For a few moments, both of them were silent. Odyeus awaiting his heir's decision, Harry pondering over this new dilemma. What was he to do?

What should he chose?

Warrior? He would probably kill Voldemort but the risk was high he would do so to take his place soon after.

Healer? Then what about Voldemort? How was he supposed to destroy the man if he could even harm him?

Warrior

Healer

Arhox

Xohra

The thoughts started to mix in his head as he got pictures of the people he had dreamt about the past days. They were speaking to him, in this language he couldn't understand. Suddenly a picture struck.

A man tall, dark haired, scarred, with green eyes, dressed in the light grey robes those people seemed to favor, the light blue on the hem, neckline and hand cuff showed his belonging to the Healers' group. An amulet resting in the hollow of his throat. Harry couldn't make out the design, but something about this man grabbed his attention. They looked at each other then the older one nodded and turned to leave. Harry couldn' refrain himself from gasping as the bangs on his forehead moved as the man whirled on his heels. There was no mistaking, he had seen it often enough to be able to recognize it at first sight. This man had a lightning bolt scar on his head.

But then….

"As I said, time has little meaning here, Harry," said Odyeus. Harry turned towards his ancestor, had he seen it too? "But you need to chose soon, your body won't manage to bear the conflict of your magics for long."

Harry glanced at the man in front of him. He hadn't seen this… could he called it a vision? Or was it a trick to make him chose the side of him less likely to harm Voldemort.

Harry debated for a few more seconds.

"Harry, I need an answer!"

What to chose?... How could he be the one to make such a choice?"

"Harry, your answer!"

Healer or Warrior…

"Harry… answer…"

What was he saying? Everything seemed to move in slow motion, remarked a detached part of his mind.

"Harry!"

The young wizard noticed the distressed look on his ancestor's face.

What? What did he want? He was feeling more and more detached, nothing really mattered… He felt himself being shaken. What was his problem?! Couldn't he see he was alright?

What?

An answer?

What answer?

A slap brought him to reality for a few seconds.
He raised his hand to his stinging cheek looking disbelievingly at Odyeus who had his arm raised, ready to hit him again!

"Your answer, you're drifting already, you're dieing!"

As he felt him be swept away again into this numb state, Harry had just the time to whisper a word.

"Healer…"

He glanced at the older man with a blank look as colors exploded around them.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

He woke up as icy water was poured over him.

"Harold?"

He was shaken by the shoulder a few times.

"Harold?!"

Groaning, Harry rolled on one of his side. Did someone see the number of the broom that had run him over?

"How do you feel?"

With another groan, Harry turned his eyes and was met with blurry shapes that started to focus and he recognized the stony face of Salazar Slytherin.

"Like I was trampled by a herd of Erumpents," he mumbled, peeved to see the smirk his answer wrenched from the dark-haired founder. "Not funny," he grumbled, which only served to amuse the Slytherin further.

"Drink that, it should help."

Too tired to argue, the young wizard took the small vial and downed it. The pain in his body dulled immediately, allowing him to think more clearly.

"How did you find me? Where is Merlin? Thanks for the potion."

"I followed your prints and I know these dungeons and this bothersome spirit better than anyone here. Merlin is above you and you're welcome."

Nodding, Harry turned his gaze upward.

"So, Harold, you followed in my footsteps… very well…"

"It was my nature to do so."

Salazar listened, silently observing them.

"Only the Ten will be able to truly help you, but you'll have to wait to be back to your time before looking for them. I will teach you enough for you to be able to survive till then. You're aware of the problems it will cause you…"

"I am."

"Very well then, young Xohra, you might curse this day in the coming times, but remember it was your choice. Salazar?"

"Merlin?"

"I'd like you to teach him what you learn from me, to repay your debt."

Salazar bowed his head.

"I will do so."

Satisfied, Merlin turned towards Harry.

"Go rest now. Your magic will undergo several adjustments in the days to come and it'll take time for you to get used to them."

"But…"

"Not today, Harry," admonished Merlin.

Sulking at being ordered, Harry raised his hand, his staff secured in his other one and in a blur of fire he transported himself to his room and fell in his bed, the day's events catching up with him. Unconsciously he had taken Cereus with him, and as he fell asleep, the huge wolf once more curled at his side, guarding his dreams.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Salazar allowed himself a few seconds to gather his thoughts, then turned towards his former teacher.

"What did you do, Merlin?"

"He crafted his staff and finally grounded his magic."

"What?!"

"You heard me, but that's not the main cause of worry."

"Really?"

"He won't be able to harm someone, never again, unless you want him to be hit with a painful backlash each time he'll do it."

"Godric won't like it."

"To Hell with Godric! This boy would have died if I had not made him create his staff! And had he chosen the other side of his magic, Godric would have helped in creating one of the Darkest magic wielders ever seen. The boy would either have gone mad and blood thirsty or would have killed himself! Godric is narrow-minded and dismiss everything that doesn't fit his perfect picture of the world!"

Salazar nodded.

"You might be right Merlin, but that doesn't change the fact that the boy will have a hard time from now on… Between his parseltongue abilities, and now his inability to harm…. I wouldn't like to be in his shoes."

"You'll have to help him Salazar, Godric won't…."

"I will… he is interesting…"

Merlin frowned.

"Be careful Salazar, there are Powers around us Men shouldn't play with. Never forget this."

The Slytherin founder just nodded and left to find his colleagues and tell them the boy was back to his chambers as well as trying to find ways to convince Godric to leave Merlin teach young Harold.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

"No! No, no and no!"

Salazar sighed, rubbing his temples as he, Rowen and Helga watched Godric rage in front of them. They were gathered in the small study next to the boy's bedroom, and Salazar had just finished explaining the situation to the other founders.

"I won't let that spirit approach Harold! He nearly killed him!"

Rowena cut him off.

"Merlin should have warned us, but Harold is well again and will be ready to join the classes again in a few days from what Leanne told me. Moreover, none of us are as skilled as this meddlesome spirit when it comes to Runes and Staff Wielding!"

"But what of the consequences?! You heard Salazar! He won't be able to fight anymore! He will be a weakling, for the rest of his life! What will it be next? He will have to bear this shame, and taint the honor of his name because of this spirit's meddling."

They all turned as they heard a door slam, then a blast, telling them that their charge was no longer there.

Anger contorted Salazar's features.

"Are you happy Godric with what you've done Godric? Did you realize what you just said?"

"The truth, Sal! Better he learns it now than later. He has to realize what he was reduced to…"

"Would you prefer him to be dead?" spat Salazar.

"Maybe!"

Godric started to curse Merlin again, venting his anger, before the two women, forgetting the basic rules of decency as his epithets qualifying Merlin grew more and more graphic, to the point that Helga drew out her wand and cursed him silent.

"Silence!" Rowena's voice rang in the room at the same moment. "Godric, you're blowing this way out of proportion. Harold is not powerless, far from it! He just has to learn to use his magic differently and Merlin is the best one to do so. He was like Harry. He'll know what to teach him!"

Turning to her friend she asked her to lift the silencing jink. After a glare at the red-haired witch, Godric turned towards the Ravenclaw's founder.

"But it's not normal for a man to be like this!"

This didn't go well with Rowena.

"I didn't think you to share the view of the Non-Magical towards the women, Godric, do you want me to show what I can do?" Her voice had grown cold.

"Fine, Merlin will be able to teach him, but I wash my hands of him, let Salazar take care of boy, since he seems to like him that much!"

Salazar stared at Godric. Did he mean this?

Taking his cloak, he headed for the door.

"Where are you going now?"

Salazar turned towards Godric, eyes blazing with suppressed rage.

"Out, until you have recovered your mind, I won't stay here and listen to your non sense." With that he left, slamming the door behind him.

Godric looked angrily at the door, a sneer adorning his face.

"This boy can't be of my blood! No boy of mine would be an effeminate! Ready to submit to any man!"

"GODRIC!!" This time it had been Helga. The woman might have been patient, but she was loyal first and what Godric had said was going too far!

He was blasted in the wall and hit by a few curses as he slid down, the most visible one was the one that sealed his mouth.

Eyes blazing, Helga stood in front of him.

"Never, ever say something like that! This boy is your charge and you'll assume your responsibilities, by your will or mine, whether Salazar will teach him is up to him. If I hear one more word against your kin or Salazar, you'll wish you had never met me, Godric."

The Gryffindor founder looked at Rowena for support, but the raven-haired female was not sparing him a glance as she ushered Helga out of the room, leaving him to ponder over his actions.

Throwing his arms up in the air, he headed for his quarters, Leanne wouldn't be there, his sons were with their tutor, he would be alone, which was good as he needed a drink to get his mind off this whole mess.

Meanwhile, Salazar had been trying to find the young man. Damn Godric, damn the man's temper to the deepest hell hole! When would he start thinking before opening that mouth of his!

How could he even suggest such a thing! He was married, and such words were an insult not only to his wife and himself but also to his honor. He wasn't one of those mundane lords that favored the company of young boys!

This wouldn't go unpunished, but first he had to find the boy. They hadn't gone through the troubles they had finding him after he had disappeared in the forest to have him slip through their fingers again.

As he strode outside, remembering that the boy owned a horse, he started to form a plan. Riding had always helped him calm down; maybe it would do the trick for the boy. He could also help him in creating a small bond between them. The boy's temperament already made it easy, but this clash with his ancestor would ease the possibility of him getting closer to other adults. Salazar didn't want to badmouth his colleague, but sometimes, Godric's impulsiveness and thickness got on his nerve. Maybe he would be able to drill some common sense into the boy. The fact that Harold was different from their previous charges had escaped nobody. Even Godric had noticed it. The boy was more closed, less trusting and bragging than his predecessors. Gryffondor blood might flow through his veins, but he wasn't pure Golden. No, he had been tainted, and that made him all the more intriguing.

Salazar halted his musing as he reached the stables.

Sure enough the boy was there, the wolf at his side, always shadowing him, unnoticed guardian. He was currently patting his stallion's neck, head burrowed in the great beast's mane.

The Slytherin was by no mean an expert in horse-breeding but he knew enough to recognize a prized creature and this stallion was one of the greatest creatures he had seen. The lines of the body were nearing perfection, the muscles visible under the dark shining coat. The head was well proportioned, no fault could be seen in the horse's stance or balance.

"Sir?"

Salazar smirked, time to play.

"Would you like to go on a ride?"

The boy's head shot up, surprised etched on his features, whatever reaction he had expected, this one had not been one of those. He seemed to think about it for a few moments, then shrugged and nodded.

"With pleasure, Sir Slytherin."

"Then let's get our horses ready."

Fifteen minutes later, they were leaving the stables for a paddock where they mounted their respected beasts. Sheitan was pawing the grounds, itching to go out. Salazar rode a solid bay stallion. The horse was a bit massive for Harry's taste, but he could see the strength and intelligence the mount possessed.

They warmed their horses for a few minutes, then Salazar led them out, urging his horse to trot. The pace was mild and Harry was feeling his stallion getting restless. Sheitan had not had a proper workout in days and was making it known.

"Sir Slytherin, do you know a place were I could work my horse out?"

A sharp nod was his only answer as the man kicked his own mount, pushing it to adopt a small comfortable canter.

Sheitan was not pleased with it and started to shake his head. He needed to go faster than this snail-like pace. He tried to get the reins a bit more loose by tugging on them, but Harry wasn't fooled.

Finally, they reached a vast plain. Harry recognized it. Sometimes in the future, Hogsmead would stand here, but for now, the only inhabitants were rodents, birds and insects, as well as the occasionnal predator or deer.

Harry was grateful to let Sheitan free, his stallion was always a pain when he couldn't get his way.

The black horse immediately lengthened his strides with a happy neigh, reaching soon a break-neck speed. Harry just leaned forwards, clinging to the mane like a bur. He made him turn and galloped back to the other end of the plain. They did this three more times before Harry straightened up a bit as Sheitan settled for a slower pace. Sensing that his horse had gotten his restlessness out of his system. Harry started to work him. For an hour he went through the exercises Exer liked to put them through.

He was unaware of the watching gaze trained on him for the whole time. Not once did Salazar lose him. The man had worked his bay for some times, but then had walked him calmly as he surveyed the young wizard's actions.

Finally Harry slowed down his horse to a small trot, then to a pleasurable walk. Sheitan's breath was even, something Harry was happy for. He showed that not all the training had been lost by his lack of time to train his horse.

"We should head back, Harold." Salazar's voice was neutral.

Harry just nodded, leaving his reins loose, so Sheitan could relax his neck and back as they walked back to the castle.

"Things will get better, Harold, Godric will see reason soon."

Harry shook is head at the other man, his lips twisted in a derisive smile.

"I'm not a little gullible child you have to coddle, Sir Salazar. He will never be at ease with me, never again. I'm not a perfect little Gryffindor, I've always known it; and Godric knows I'm not and he won't forget it, no matter what you say."

There was a small silence.

"Insightful… if not a little pessimistic, but the truth nonetheless. I have a few warnings for you though. Don't speak Parseltongue without notifying me before; some people have a strong negative reaction to the reptiles… The Bible is to be blamed for this."

"Are you a Christian?"

"That question, Harold, is not one you should ask aloud, but I will answer you. Christianism is slowly winning over most of the land. Only the deepest most retired lands and some other regions are still free to celebrate our Gods. Even in Hogwarts, it's starting to be dangerous to be truthful about your beliefs. Beltane's fires are still celebrated, but I fear their time is coming to an end. The One god is overcoming the old religions and his followers can be fanatical. Beware of them."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I believe in our Gods and goddesses, in the Power of the elements surrounding us. But this is not something I wish to be publicly known. More than half of the staff is Christian… This is why you have to be careful with your gifts."

Harry nodded, understanding the reasons for this.

"I have a proposition for you, young Lion," whispered Salazar. "I can teach you a few things that Godric wouldn't deem fit for one of heirs to learn, but I think you could see the beauty in this form of Magic…"

"What kind of Magic?"

Salazar gave him a sharp glance then a small smirk.

"The Shadow Arts."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The following days were tensed at the castle. Harry wasn't allowed to go back to his classes for as long as he needed to adjust to the changes in his magic. The fact that he could no longer harm his opponent while dueling was a damper on his abilities, but with Rowena, he was finding more and more way to deal with an opponent. Animated Transfiguration was slowly becoming his trademark form of duel. Sure, he still practiced offensive curses against a dummy, after all he may once find himself in a situation where the backlash would be worth the use of such curses.

He had kept all the abilities he had gained before making his choice. He difference now was that it was extremely hard for him to learn fighting tricks while before it had come naturally to him.

A plus side to this whole mess was that his power had grown a lot. He could still not access most of it, but he could feel it, laying dormant in him, sometimes humming lightly through his body.

It scared him a bit as he knew how much strength he could wield through his spells… He could easily hurt someone with a simple banishing spell, should he put his whole power behind it.

That fear was restricting his progress for now but wasn't an issue as long as they didn't start to work on harder aspect of magic, but it wouldn't last.

Godric had not warmed up to Harry. The man was avoiding him as much a possible and when teaching him, was only speaking when needed, and always with a disappointed tone in his voice.

Rowena and Helga were very helping. The Ravenclaw was drilling him in Transfiguration and animating charms, she was also researching all that could be found about the Healers and their abilities. Helga was taking him to the Greenhouses and the Forest as often as possible to teach him the way of plants, which one could be used for remedies, which one would kill a grown man in a matter of minutes, those which would poison, disable, put to sleep, disinfect, heal, sooth, numb…

Now that he had realized his true nature, Herbology fascinated him, but most of it helped calm him. Potions were also getting easier for him. But that might have been because of Sir Slytherin.

The man was confusing. Harry couldn't really understand him. He would help him in his adjustment, but he was always so distant. Never asking questions, but always there when Harry was facing an issue. He would sometimes help, or say a few words which at first would make no sense, but after some thinking would hold the answer Harry had been looking for.

Every night they would meet and Salazar would teach him something. It didn't matter what: a charm, a way to move, a stance, a curse, a potion. But Harry noticed that most of the time the founder would get him to talk. Their conversation would cover random topics, but quite often, they would debate the Dark-Light issues.

Then two weeks after the incident, as they headed for the dungeons as usual, instead of going to the Labs, Salazar took another path, leading Harry, Cereus on his heels, deeper into Slytherin territory. They stopped before a painting of a Runespoor.

"Open," said Salazar in Parseltongue.

The painting moved aside, revealing the entrance to a room.

"Those are my private rooms," explained Slytherin as he entered, expecting Harry to follow as he didn't even turn to check if the young wizard was behind him.

Harry eyed the entrance before looking at Cereus. Their bond had only strengthened as they spent most of their time together: they would go run together in the mornings around the lake and Harry had come to trust the wolf's instincts.

§I sense nothing wrong, Harry-cub.§

With a nod, Harry passed through the archway marking the entrance and into Slytherin's rooms. The decoration was minimalist but tasteful: a few tapestries and prints, a few paintings on the walls and above the fireplace's mantel. A couch and two armchairs faced the blaring fire. A small table was placed in front of them. A library filled with books, manuscripts, parchments was placed on a wall. A cupboard was next to it and through the glass panels, Harry saw bottles of liquors and wine ordered on the shelves.

Two doors led out of this room, not counting the one he had come through.

Without a word, Salazar took off his cloak and outer robes, watching as Harry did the same. Then the young man sat in an armchair as Salazar fetched them both something to drink.

Harry had been introduced to alcohol by Godric who couldn't believe that he had never drunk something stronger than Butterbeer, with the exception of a few sips of Firewhiskey one time.

The hangover to which Harry woke the next morning made him wary of any kind of alcoholic drinks, which, at least for Rowena, wasn't a bad thing.

Raising his eyebrow, he looked at Salazar as the man handed him a glass filled with an amber liquid. The smell was nice, a bit spiced, but nothing bad.

"It's cider."

A bit reassured, Harry took a sip. Salazar hadn't lied, it was indeed cider, but whoever made it had spiced it a bit, though the young raven-haired man couldn't put his finger on what had been added.

"Though I never was able to find what the old man adds to it…" said Salazar. "But this is not the matter at hand. As you can gather, I didn't bring you here to have you drink some cider. I'd like to start to teach you the Shadow Arts, but for that I need your agreement that whatever will take place during these lessons will be kept between us. Whatever might happen, you won't speak a word to anyone spare Merlin, your familiars and, me. I need your Oath on your powers and magic before we go further."

Harry had troubles wrench his eyes from Salazar Slytherin's gaze. Those blue eyes had a nearly hypnotic power to them, like snake's eyes as they lull their prey in a false sense of security before going for the kill.

"Will my learning need me to bring harm to living beings? Because I won't be able to do so then."

"These arts will not require harming, but can be used to bring harm."

"Are they Dark Magic?"

Harry awaited the man's answer, he didn't want to have anything to do with Dark Arts. Salazar locked their eyes together.

"But what is Dark Magic, young man?"

Harry furrowed his brows, a bit confused by the answer.

"Magic which wounds, kills, harms…"

Salazar smirked.

"The answer of a Gryffindor. But you're describing a vast part of what is Magic there. Should we limit ourselves to the use of Light spells following your definition we would only use cleaning charms and healing ones. Take the polishing charm… what would happen if you were to polish the floor at the top of a staircase to the point that it made it slippery, what would happen if someone in a hurry happened to climb up those stairs and slip on it, falling down the stairs, killing himself in the process? Would it be Dark Magic? Or take this flesh eating charm. Now you're in a battle and one of your fellow soldiers is hit with a rotting charm in the arm. If you're powerful enough to control the power of the flesh eating curse, will you use it to remove the cursed bit of flesh then use a flesh growing potion, or would you let your comrade die for fear of using a Dark curse?"

Harry looked down, the man had a point. But,… using Dark Arts…

"What I want you to see Harold is that there are curses that are inanely dark, nothing can be said about them, but that most curses, spells, jinxes and hexes are not either Dark or Light, but both and that it will be you that will determined if the Magic is Dark or Light."

Salazar took a sip from his glass.

"Of course, this is my point of view, should you ask Godric, he will say that Dark is Dark and Light is Light, there is no in between for him. But the truth, young man, is that magic is essentially neutral."

"Neutral…," whispered Harry, twirling what remained of his cider in his glass.

Cereus gave him a little push.

"You think so too?"

§That I do. I would be considered a Dark creature by your Light wizards since I can potentially harm you… but that does not make me Evil. Dark I am, yes, but not Evil.§

Harry nodded and turned to Salazar.

"Let me reformulate my question then, Sir. Are these Arts Evil?"

A small smirk grace Salazar's lips.

"You're starting to understand, then let me answer that they could be used for Evil as well as for Light."

"What would they entail?"

"A complete dedication, a lot of work: they cover the fields of Charms, Transfiguration, Duelling, Potions, Herbology, Healing, Divination and a few more obscure branches of Magic you don't need to worry about."

Harry looked back at his drink.

"So what do you decide, young Lion?"

Salazar's tone was deceptively amused, but Harry could sense the steely undertone. Whatever his decision might be, he wouldn't be offered this a second time.

He locked his green eyes to the blue ones of the founder and spoke in their shared language.

"I'll be honoured to be your pupil in learning of thosssse Artsssss"

"You ssshould be little lion, now, your Oath!"

"I, Harry James Potter, hereby sssswear to remain ssssilent asss to what will happen during my learning of the Ssssshadow Artssss under Ssssir Sssslytherin'sssss tuition."

"Very well, lion-cub," nodded Salazar as the magic invoked during the oath settled down. He looked at Harry. "Let's begin"

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Thanks again to all the reviewers!