Chapter 3
Story time
Last time: "I'm Salazar. Salazar Slytherin."
Now:
All stared in shock when they heard that statement. Why the heck would Harry Potter say something like that? Madame Pomphrey began muttering about the poor boy being delusional due to concussion.
Dumbledore says, "You don't know what you are saying my boy. Now I know you have had a very traumatic experience, so I understand that you are a bit confused at the moment, but making up something like that is a bit much."
Salazar glares at the old man and says, "I hardly see the reason of why my name concerns you so sir. Perhaps you would be so kind as to inform me?"
"Your name is Harry. So please cease calling yourself by that dreaded name," Dumbledore replies heatedly.
"My name is Salazar. When will you get that through your thick head?" Salazar replied incredulously. "Now, I do not know who this Harry Potter is, but I think it is safe to assume that you have mistaken my identity for his. So if you would please inform me of my situation, so that I may know why I am lying in a hospital bed surrounded by strange people whom I have never met?"
Silence met this statement, which made Salazar glare angrily. He used this moment to quickly take in his surroundings. He was obviously in some sort of infirmary, but why? Chucking that thought aside for a moment, he decided to take stock of the people around him. Besides the crazy old man with the long white beard and bright purple robes, there was a plump woman wearing a nurse's outfit. Obviously the healer. Then there was a man sitting next to him staring at him with concern. He looks nice enough. Awfully shabby clothing though. Casting his senses out, Salazar noticed with surprise that the man was a werewolf. Moving on he noticed a stern looking woman wearing her hair in a tight bun. Beside her stood a pale man with shoulder length black hair and a crooked nose. He had a smirk on his face, but his eyes betrayed his concern and interest.
Salazar turned with a slight start as he felt a hand reach out to touch his shoulder. It was the werewolf. "Yes?" Salazar asked politely. The werewolf's eyes stared into Salazar's eyes, before widening slightly,
"Y-You really aren't Harry are you?" he asked.
"No. I'm not," Salazar said gently. For some reason he felt bad about disappointing this man. Whoever this Harry Potter is, this man obviously cares about him greatly.
The pale man with dark hair in the corner cleared his throat suddenly and said, "If that is the case, then it seems we have a problem." He summoned a mirror and held it out to Salazar. Confused, Salazar just looks at it, so the pale man just shoves it in front of his face. Not a moment later the boy sitting on the bed yelped in shock. "Hey! That's not my face!" The boy promptly fainted.
