Disclaimer: I don't own Salazar Slytherin… he can't be owned by anyone… he's a sly one... that sly ol' fox!

Employment

My first night at the castle under the lord Sir Elric Gryffindor was spent tossing and turning. I did not get a wink of sleep. In the corner however, I could hear Salome snoring lightly and see her chest rising and falling rhythmically.

I was surprised that Lord Gryffindor had a room (a fully furnished room) ready for us. It by no means was luxury, but it was better than I had ever known. It was even better than the headman's house from out quaint little village.

It was the first time I had ever slept on a real bed with real goose feather pillows and warm blankets of sheep's wool. I don't think I could ever sleep on a pallet ever again, although that might have something to do with my age.

I rose early, washed my face and raked my fingers through my coarse black hair. To my boyish fancy, there was a mirror above the basin.

Mirrors are ancient tools of magic. I was educated enough to know one when I saw one and I knew that they were rare even in the houses of the wealthy.

I yanked my fingers through my hair again grumbling, "I look terrible!"

"Too true, dear," a voice agreed with me, "too true."

I reeled backwards turning this way at that way in a desperate attempt to find the speaker.

I adopted the fighting position and turned quickly around on my heel. "Where are you?" There was no answer. "Show yourself!"

"Tut, tut, tut," said the voice, "no reason to me rude my friend."

"ARGH!" I reeled around and clumsily feel onto my bottom. Kicking wildly I wriggled my way from the bathroom. Once outside the small cramped little room, I slammed the door.

"Salazar, what is that devilish noise?"

I was panting like a mad dog glancing this way and that to make sure the bodiless voice had not followed me. "The mirror," I gasped, "it spoke to me!"

"I expect an apology, young man!" a muffle voice wafted through the closed door.

I clamped my hands over my mouth startled. Salome on the other hand merely looked bored.

"The mirror can speak," she started calmly looking at her dirty nails and looking very superior, in a manner only older sisters can muster, "because it is enchanted."

"I think it is rather a silly idea," I replied shaking my head in an attempt to regain any remnants of my dignity. "Who wants a reflection that speaks to you?"

"I heard that!" the mirror called.

I slapped the door in reply. My pride had been injured enough on my first morning at Hogwarts Castle.

"I'm going for breakfast," I called over my shoulder before swaggering, as proudly as I could, out of our shared chambers.

"Boys," Salome muttered under her breath, as she closed the door behind me.

Kitchens are the easiest place to find in the castle along with the mess hall of the lord's soldiers. They are busy places, full of heat, conversation and bodies bustling about under the scrutiny of the head cook (no matter the time of day). Kitchens can be found when you are half asleep. All you need do is to follow your nose.

That is what I did. I followed my nose and soon learned that the lesser people of the castle ate nearby in a rowdy hall, much like a guard's mess. Delighted by the smell of scrumptious fresh bread and meaty stew, I lined up eager to line my rumbling belly.

"Here you be the new 'un," a cook assistant said, shoving a wooden bowl into my hand.

Before I could even attempt to reply, a young girl a few years older than me piped up. "Healer they say."

I nodded and smiled. "I've done healing in my home village. I'm Salazar Slytherin…" I shifted my bowl around and extended my hand in an offer of friendship. "And you are?"

The girl screwed up her dainty little nose and looked me up and down with utmost distaste. "I know who you are," she returned dryly and ignored my extended hand in distaste. She turned haughtily to the assistant dishing out food holding her plate out. He dished out the food and as she was about to leave she added, "I think it was a terribly poor judgement of Sir Elric to offer such an employment to riff raff he found in his forest. Especially to a man!"

I watched the back of her skirts swaying as she left without a second glance. Mortified I forced my jaw to close and composed my face as my father had schooled me to and held out my bowl for the cook to fill with food.

"Odelle Throckmorton," the cook muttered through his teeth so that his lips barely moved, "You'll be working with her sister, the fair lass Briona Throckmorton…"

The cook rambled on my I turned my gaze towards Odelle who was talking to a girl my age with long blonde hair and fair eyes. The two girls glanced up. Odelle frowned and nodded with pursed lips in my direction. Obviously they were discussing me. The younger girl's glance lingered and for the barest of seconds the corner of her lips lifted in a greeting smile. But it faded as her companion smacked her arm and I saw Odelle's lips move in an irritated command, "Don't encourage him, Bree.."

I sighed heavily and for the first time, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

"Move, boy!" I stumbled forward as a man behind me started jabbing me in the back with his bowl.

I wandered down the aisle as I passed people took more space and glared at me. I was not wanted here.

I glumly found a section of table that was not occupied and stared into my bowl and pushed the food around and around with a spoon.

One would think I would have been grateful for such a wonderful meal compared to the dregs our family shared. But I was dreadfully homesick. I ate without tasting I felt, as if I died as my parents were taken away from me.

It seemed like an age before Salome turned up. She timidly opened the doors and almost skipped through. Unlike me, she did not receive such an icy welcome. Grinning at everybody she past she lined up for food and cheerily speaking with the cook she caught my eye and waved. I smiled thinly and nodded an acknowledgement and turned back to my stew and bread.

In the corner of my eye I caught Odelle Throckmorton's scowl. She stood strode across the room and confronted my sister. The little blonde girl beside her also stood. "Odelle…" she murmured following the elder almost pleadingly.

"Oh - uh," I muttered placing my bread down and followed Odelle Throckmorton's steps.

For a few long moments Odelle stood, sneering at Salome. Salome stepped back and looked over Odelle's shoulder to see my worried face frowning.

"I'm… I'm Salome," my sister like myself introduced herself - but with a warm beaming smile.

"I know who you are," Odelle snapped.

"Odelle, please…" the blonde haired girl pleaded, "let them be."

"Shut up Briona!" Odelle snarled and looked back to my stunned sister. "You're his sister…"

Good gentle Salome nodded her head, "My brother Salazar."

Odelle shook her head then suddenly deliberately knocked the bowl out of my sister's hands. The hot stew burned her hands and was ruined on the floor.

Shocked poor Salome looked to her burning hands, to the floor then to Odelle who was smirking.

If this was not bad enough, Odelle grabbed handfuls of Salome's long raven hair and pulled my sister towards her mouth. I heard nothing what was said, but they must have been nasty as tear sprang into Salome's eyes.

With one last gleeful look, the terrible Odelle calmly strode to the door and left.

"Oh," the little blonde haired girl cried, "I'm sorry; so sorry." The blonde girl bent down gathering the bits and pieces of the bowl Salome had dropped.

"Never mind the mess; the cooks will sort that out…" The girl took Salome's hands and steered her towards the door.

"Salazar right?" the girl looked over her shoulder at me, "come, I'll introduce you to Cassia the head healer. She's expecting us."

I followed like a lost lamb in the wake of the two girls. Salome was shaking. But I knew it wasn't from fear; it took a lot to scare my sister - it was rage.

The blonde girl murmured apologies the whole way down the corridor and down into the basement. I knew from what my mother had taught me that many healers in the magical world prefer basements away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

The blonde pushed open a door and ushered my sister inside.

"My dear Briona what have you there?" a small old lady asked with a voice that crackled like fire.

"This is Salome."

"Hello my dear," the old lady muttered as she took my sister's hands in her own wrinkly ones. Salome looked over her shoulder at me clearly communicating, 'help me'. I shrugged my shoulders in reply.

"Come my dear, my wrinkles are not contagious," the little old lady's eyes shone in amusement but sensing my presence she looked up at me. "Boy," she said dryly and nodded her head.

Everything within my body seemed to freeze and I found that I could not for the life of me construct a meaningful reply.

"Salazar Slytherin…Imogene's son." she hissed. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I could not remember telling Sir Elric my mother's name. A seer, I decided almost at once; definitely a seer.

My thoughts were disturbed my the old lady's cackle. 'Not quite boy.'

For the second time that morning I heard a bodiless voice. However after a frantic search around the healer's quarters I saw there was no mirror. I looked to Salome and Briona both whom looked politely surprised by my strange behaviour. The old lady… ('My name is Cassia.' ) looked like a cat who had got all the cream. Very pleased with herself indeed…

Everything clicked into place at once. "Did you… madam…?"

"You may call me Miss Cassia." Dark eyes glittered in the dark and she laughed again. "Only if I may call you Salazar," she amended.

Despite myself I grinned shyly and nodded my head.

"I had forgotten what fun I can have with a new underling." Miss Cassia looked at Briona ruefully and they both smiled.

The smiles however soon disappeared when she looked towards my sister. "Now Salazar," she indicated to a small cupboard with a long bony finger, "bring me what potions and ointments you think are needed."

I stepped forward and inspected the cupboard with a growing dread. 'If only I could read,' I thought frantically looking at the hundreds of colour bottles.

I heard Miss Cassia sigh heavily, "Very well tell Briona what you want from the cupboard and she'll pick them out for you, if you can't read. Really I thought Imogene had much more sense!"

I reddened and mumbled instructions to Briona which bottles and solutions I wanted and brought them over to Miss Cassia who look at my collection with a straight face.

"Unorthodox," she mumbled, "just like you mother."

I raised my eyebrows and looked to Salome, who still was looking worried in the healer's grip.

"Excuse me madam," Salome whispered nervously.

"Hmmm…" Miss Cassia never looked up.

"You've mentioned our mother thrice," Salome pointed out, "Did you know her?"

Miss Cassia poured out some potion from a bottle and dabbed it onto Salome's burns. Salome winced with pain and I saw tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. "The evidence points to that, my dear," Miss Cassia sighed cryptically, "now you better go I believe there is a young sir waiting for you in the library…"

'Definitely a seer,' I thought to myself.

'I can tell working with you, Salazar, is going to be fun.'

I yelped and jumped back, nearly falling over a low pallet. To my embarrassment, I heard Cassia's laugh, joined by Briona's.

Some may be wondering about Salazar's reaction to the mirror. Mirror's were expensive and rare in ancient times and had the power to inspire awe and surprise. Some legends say mirrors are the devil's tool for capturing souls and medieval wizards them for scrying - (a branch of divination.)