Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't even own the whole plot (go see the disclaimer in the first chapter). And the whole Shadowalker stuff…I've seen it used in quite a few fics so I'm sorry if this is stealing…All I can really say is I know it wasn't originally mine.

:Mindspeech:

-Parseltongue-

Chapter One: Of Memories and Dementors

Harry Potter glared at his best former friend who was sitting at the other end of the Gryffindor table. How could he be so clueless, so immature? Ron ignored him (or didn't notice) taking another bite of chicken while talking to his girlfriend, Hermione Granger, who had taken his side in the argument as she always did. Harry watched Ron say something to Hermione and they began to leave the Great Hall together.

As they neared the doors, Ron collapsed suddenly. Hermione shrieked, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. She started yelling, shaking her boyfriend and was halfway through calling his name when she herself collapsed. There was instant pandemonium as students started panicking and the teachers were too occupied trying to help the two fallen Gryffindors to calm down the rest of the students. Ron and Hermione's friends ran across the hall to try and help; Harry included. He might not have been on very good terms with the two, but they were his friends.

"Don't come near them," Lavender shrieked, "I know you did this!"

"What?" Harry asked, shocked.

"You did this! I saw…"

"Miss Brown, that's quite enough," Professor McGonagall interrupted, "There's no need to go throwing pointless accusations around!"

"You don't understand, I saw him…"

"QUIET!" The shout from the teacher's table cut through the commotion and there was silence in the hall. Everybody turned towards the table to see Professor Dumbledore once again standing at the teacher's table, "Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have been taken to the Hospital Wing and are being taken care of. They are in no danger at the moment. Miss Brown, Mr. Potter, Professor McGonagall, please meet me in my office immediately."

"Well, come along you two," McGonagall said, leading the way to the Headmaster's office. Lavender followed, glaring at Harry who, utterly confused, followed. They had a seat and waited for the Headmaster to arrive. Half an hour later, Dumbledore returned to his office, looking older and wearier than ever.

"Headmaster, are you alright?" McGonagall asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, Minerva," Dumbledore said, with a reassuring smile, "I was just talking to the Aurors."

Professor McGonagall gasped,

"Is it that serious?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, "I'm afraid that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have been poisoned."

"Will they be okay?" McGonagall asked.

"Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will recover in time," Dumbledore said, "Poppy and Severus are looking at them now. Miss Patil and Mr. Finnigan however…"

"Parvati?" Lavender's face was white, "Or Padma? Oh, and poor Seamus! What's wrong with them?"

"Parvati Patil; her sister is quite distressed. I'm afraid that Miss Patil and Mr. Finnigan were the two sitting nearest Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger," Dumbledore said gravely, "They seem to have been given the poison too, by mistake no doubt, and were unnoticed in the commotion. By the time that any of the other students realized that they too had been poisoned it was too late for either of them."

Lavender burst into tears. Harry noticed after a minute that she was speaking, though he only caught a few phrases: '…all my fault…' …'I should have…' '…would have noticed…'

Suddenly her head snapped up and she glared at Harry,

"It was him!" she shouted through tears, "He killed them!" Harry was numb. He couldn't feel anything but a slight bewilderment. Seamus (his roommate for many years) and Padma (he had taken her to the Yule Ball, hadn't he?)…They weren't dead. They couldn't be dead. How could they be dead?

"Miss Brown," Professor McGonagall said, "I understand that you are having a hard time but what have I told you about spreading that ridiculous rumor!"

Dumbledore quieted her with a glance,

"Why do you say that, Miss Brown?"

"Harry had this really big fight with Ron and Hermione this morning," Lavender started, "When I was going to Charms, I heard voices in the trophy room and when I went to see who it was I saw him talking to a house elf. He was telling it to put something in Ron and Hermione's dinner!"

"I didn't!" Harry, who had been in a daze before this, shouted, "I'd never do anything like that!"

Dumbledore studied Lavender over his half-moon glasses, ignoring Harry,

"And why did you not then inform a teacher?"

"I didn't think it was that important," Lavender said, looking tearful, "I didn't know it was poison."

"This is ridiculous!" Harry shouted, "I never…I haven't…Ron and Hermione are my friends!"

"Were your friends!" Lavender snapped, "You told them this morning that they weren't your friends any more!"

The memory ended abruptly as the dementors were forced to leave their victims so that the house elves could bring the prisoners their dinner. Harry Potter lay curled on the floor, still trapped in his memories.

He had been arrested shortly after that…His belongings had been searched and the Aurors had struck gold in his new trunk, in a room-compartment that he never even knew he had…A house elf had admitted to putting the poison in Ron and Hermione's food…They had found a Dark Potions book, still opened and bookmarked to a page that contained the recipe to the very potion that Ron and Hermione had been poisoned with along with a letter from Voldemort…There were even traces of the potion in a still-warm cauldron in the middle of the room…Ron told all that he knew of Harry's life story in the trial, but letting his jealousy and anger show through by twisting parts of it and inventing others…Telling how Harry had again and again sacrificed the lives of others around him for fame and glory…Hermione had supported her boyfriend…He had been given a life sentence in Azkaban for murder, as well as past actions…

The dementors returned, and Harry was once pulled into another memory…

Harry stared blankly at the wall of his cell. He would be transported to Azkaban the next day, giving his 'friends and family' some time to talk to him. They had all come to taunt, of course. There were a few missing from the crowd, but there were so many others that Harry didn't notice. He soon learned to block out their hateful words and had refused to cry, no matter what cruel words came his way.

"Ron, you're back!" called Dean Thomas eagerly, "Did you get the goods?" Ron smirked maliciously, holding up what he had brought and causing Dean to grin widely (and with a touch of insanity); he had taken the death of his best friend hard. Harry froze as he recognized his trunk. They wouldn't…

"It's too bad we're not allowed in there," Ron said, "I'd like to give that murderer a piece of my mind." Harry flinched slightly, trying to ignore them.

Ron frowned at him, "He's not looking this way."

"I can fix that," Hermione said spitefully, "Aspicio Spectum!" Harry's head turned towards his unwanted visitors against his will. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Ron rubbed his hands together gleefully,

"What should we start with?"

"How about his photo album," Hermione suggested, "He's rather attached to those stupid pictures."

Ron snatched the book out of the trunk and ripped out a handful of pages,

"Who wants some?" The pages were eagerly snatched up and Ron distributed them out to everybody. Harry was forced to watch as the students used every spell they could think of to destroy the pictures. Some ripped them up with their bare hands and tossed them in a pile on the floor, setting fire to the pile once it was big enough.

Ron then reached into the trunk and pulled out Hedwig. He had obviously crammed her cage into the trunk with the thought that she was just another thing important to Harry. Harry watched, horrified, as they tortured his beautiful owl to death and then mutilated her body beyond recognition, tossing it into his cell when they were finished with it.

The crowd proceeded to destroy all of his personal possessions except some money and his invisibility cloak, which Ron kept. Hermione then released the spell and they walked away laughing.

They were not the only visitors that Harry had that night. Remus Lupin spent a good hour yelling at him about how "Lily and James would be so disappointed in you! And Sirius…He thought of you as his own son and this is how you repay him?" Other people (teachers, news reporters, and people that he had never met) had come to yell at him as well.

Harry was still lost in memories. It was how he spent a majority of his time, not that he had any choice in the matter. Occasionally he would regain consciousness for a while, but his muscles had long atrophied past the state of usefulness. The house elves fed him just enough to keep him alive as they had been instructed.

One single thing happened this particular night; one everyday occurrence that changed Harry's life forever. The clock struck midnight. Of course, there wasn't a clock anywhere near Harry nor indeed was he in any condition to hear one but that wasn't important. What was important was the date, for it happened to be his eighteenth birthday. And that was what mattered.

His unhappy memories were quite suddenly interrupted as a tide of new memories pushed itself into his mind…

He was about six and being taught magic by his mother…

He was ten and his father, learning that his mother was a witch, killed her…He barely managed to escape with his life and was sent to a makeshift magic school; a war was starting…He met Godric Gryffindor there and, though they did not get along at first, they become great friends…

He was thirteen and they were sent into the battle against the Dark Lord once they had learned enough magic to survive…His skill for potions became well known and the two friends were separated so he could brew healing potions and poisons for the army…

He was fifteen and he finally met Godric again…His friend was injured and was being cared for by the healer, Helga Hufflepuff…The three of them along with Helga's friend, the enchantress Rowena Ravenclaw, became good friends…They wanted to build a school together but couldn't because of the war…They came up with a risky plan to destroy the Dark Lord…They managed, miraculously, to pull it off…

He was sixteen and the school was finally ready…He let's some of his stronger opinions on Dark Magic slip and he and Godric start to fight…Godric got injured when he accidentally released a burst of accidental magic…They apologized to each other after that…

He was seventeen and a new Dark Lady came into power …The other founders wanted to help fight against her, but had responsibilities in the school…He didn't want to be involved in another war…He and Godric started fighting again…The Dark Lady attacked a nearby town and all four Founders went to help…It was revealed that the Dark Lady is his cousin…He apparated away, horrified…Godric was badly wounded in the fight…He tried to help his friend, but Godric banished him from the school…He killed himself in a magical suicide on his eighteenth birthday…

As Harry's mind absorbed these memories, his body writhed and twisted on the ground as new, darker, magic poured into it, repairing his muscles and some of the malnutrition. His whole body glowed dark green; as green as his eyes or the killing curse. The dementors swarmed closer, savoring the fresh, painful memories but fled as a wave of pure magic of the darkest type was let free. Suddenly it all stopped and Harry lay panting on the floor, exhausted yet invigorated by his new magic.

So…He, Harry Potter was Salazar Slytherin. He knew it should shock him, amaze him, horrify him, or something, but it didn't. It occurred to Harry, or rather Salazar, that this might just be one of those things that hits you full force later, but that didn't seem quite right either. He wasn't shocked, amazed, or horrified but rather calmly amused at his own thoughts. Weird.

Salazar stared blankly at the stone wall. Wasn't the pattern of stones ever so interesting? And the way that rock was cracked just so; just fascinating. And…Oh look, was that a spider? Salazar sighed; he was incredibly bored, as he had finished marveling on the ironies of life an hour or so ago; the dementors couldn't penetrate his strong Occlumency walls. Not that he was complaining exactly, but it was boring. Of course, if he let his mind wander too far he'd always find himself back on the subject of his banishment or betrayal.

He wandlessly conjured a ball of glowing green light and started tossing it around. Wandless magic was thought impossible even by Dumbledore and Voldemort, though it had been extraordinarily common in Salazar's time (though most couldn't do more than a summoning charm because they lacked the power). People nowadays probably lacked the belief, rather than power, necessary to do so. It was a pity that the wandless arts had been forgotten, though a big advantage.

Actually…A prison like Azkaban should have had magic suppressing charms all over it, though maybe the Ministry felt confident that the dementors would suffice. Salazar snorted. The ministry may have been full of idiots, but they weren't that stupid. If there were magic suppressing charms than either they were really weak or his magic was really strong. There really was no way to tell until he got out.

Which led to his next question: would he break out? He could easily break out, of course, and it would be rather dull to stay…But then they'd go printing junk about how he'd joined Voldemort and he really wanted to clear his name (not because he wanted to go on using it but because he wanted his friends to know how they deserted them). It really didn't make any sense to stay…But there was nobody looking for him, even hunting him as they would when news of his escape reached the press. He might be able to create an illusion of himself, but he doubted his ability to sustain such a thing at long distance, especially if someone tried to touch him for whatever reason. On the other hand, he could live quite comfortably in his cell with a few adjustments, all of which could be hidden to other's eyes by a few simple illusion charms.

His scar burned and he hissed angrily, all thoughts of escape forgotten. Voldemort had taken to gleefully sending Harry images of Death Eater raids and meetings, enjoying Harry's frustration of knowing so much information and not being able to tell anyone about it. Though he was not doing so tonight (Salazar's Occlumency walls no doubt kept him out) he could not block the pain in his scar (it hurt whenever Voldemort used to dark mark, something about the two marks interfering with each other) any more than Snape could block his dark mark. Though the pain was on his head, there was no mind magic being used so he couldn't block against it.

Salazar hated being helpless; hated knowing important information that he could do nothing with. But he could do something about it, couldn't he? Now that the dementors no longer affected him, now that he had his memories back. Salazar smirked; there was an attack planned on Diagon Alley in a couple hours, a birthday present from Voldemort, and he knew for sure that he wasn't going to miss it.

He started to prepare almost absent mindedly. He had the help of both dark and light magic, though a wand would be useful and some type of weapon. And he needed to get himself something to wear; something a little more intimidating than a regular black battle robe (which could be pretty intimidating when need be). Those things could take a while to get so he'd just have to transfigure them today.

Salazar had one hidden gift, however, that would be extremely useful. He had the tiniest bit of Shadowalker blood in him, so little that it had taken three immensely powerful rituals to enable him to use it to its full potential. Even so, his full potential was barely anything to what a full blooded Shadowalker could do. Shadowalkers were an ancient race, very closely related to vampires. It was said that they died out long before Salazar's time, though it really was impossible to be sure. Their abilities to hide in shadows (called Lurking), travel directly from shadow to shadow despite wards and any other obstacles (called Sliding), and sometimes even control shadows gave them their name, though they're also very good with mind magic and were also shape-shifters.

Salazar could both Lurk and Slide quite well, which would cover transportation easily. His mind magic was also fairly good, though was not much better than very good human's. He was hardly a shape-shifter, though he could make a few changes to his body but it was very limited as was his ability to control shadows.

He conjured up a set of black battle robes and changed into them, not much worried about his privacy, as the nearest sane person was a couple floors above him. Salazar pulled the hood on, enlarged it slightly so it shadowed his face, put a charm on it so it couldn't fall back and unshadow his face, and then called up some shadows to completely cover his face. The end effect was that nobody would see his face, which was spooky and helped keep it anonymous. As an afterthought he changed his eye color to silver (enabling himself to see with ought glasses as he did so, Ron had taken them after the trial) and parted the shadows around them so they glowed eerily. As a second afterthought he once again summoned the shadows and attached them to his robes so they seemed to melt into darkness.

Salazar conjured a mirror and stepped back to take a look at himself. He liked the effect but there was still a few things missing. For one a wand, but there was no time to fix that. He conjured a pair of black gloves and boots and put them on before shifting his attention to the weapon he would need (more for effect than usage). A silver short sword decorated with emeralds was quickly conjured and attached to his belt and a pair of matching daggers were hidden in a sleeve and boot. There, that was perfect (except for the fact that he needed a wand and it would be nice if his daggers were coated with poison, but that could be dealt with later).

The last thing he did before leaving was create an illusion of himself to sit in the cell while he was gone. It wasn't like he was expecting any visitors but better safe than sorry. Salazar was about to Shift when an idea popped into his head. He changed his target, smirking. He had time for a little bit of fun.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Albus Dumbledore watched the Order members bickering amongst themselves, too deeply in thought to quiet them. Harry had been their last hope, their last chance to get rid of Voldemort forever. Dumbledore had never dreamed that Harry would think himself as special because of it, consider himself worthy of special treatment. But that was what happened, wasn't it? Harry couldn't possibly have thought he could get away with it in normal circumstances.

This was the part that troubled Dumbledore the most, not that Harry had been their last hope (for indeed he wasn't, not after a new prophesy had been made) but that Harry had deemed himself special. That should not have happened and Dumbledore wondered what could have possibly gone wrong. Harry had been raised in an environment where that sort of attitude should never have been allowed to establish itself, yet somehow he had turned dark despite all of Dumbledore's planning. Just like Tom.

Tom Riddle had been a smart child whose future had looked anything but dim. He'd become the Minister of Magic, some teacher's declared, while others believed that he'd do something good for the world; create a cure for an incurable disease or some other benevolent task. Nobody had been more surprised than Dumbledore when he turned dark but at least he had managed to do his duty beforehand and defeated Grindelwald.

The Order members were loosing hope, as was evident in their constant bickering. They were no longer confident in their ability to win the war, even after Dumbledore had told them about a prophesy that assured their victory. At first they had been determined to find their new hero but, as the years dragged by, even the most cheerful lost their optimism.

Dumbledore was jerked rather rudely from his musings when a particularly noisy fight erupted between Mad-Eye Moody and Ron Weasley, one of the younger members.

"Why can't we join the fights?" Ron shouted, is face red with rage and his fists clenched, "I bet I could take out half the Death Eaters by myself. I mean, look what I did to Potter!" Ron considered himself something of a war hero after Harry was arrested and seemed to think that he had something to do with the actual arrest.

"It's an attitude like that that's going to get you killed," growled Moody, one of the few who openly believed in Harry's innocence, "You're young, inexperienced, and overconfident. You might have been lucky with a few minor death eaters in the past but your no match against the better ones, especially a full raid."

"I'm eighteen!" Ron scoffed, "I've had plenty of experience. You're just paranoid, Moody."

"There's a Muggle saying, you know," said a voice from the back of the hall, "It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you." Heads snapped towards the unfamiliar voice and three stunners were shot out before he was finished with his sentence. They fizzled away into nothing halfway towards their target and a hushed silence fell over the Order.

Dumbledore surveyed the newcomer. Because so many Order members were away in other countries there were many empty seats and the remaining members had moved closer to Dumbledore. The whole back half of the table was completely empty and, since they had stopped lighting the torches in that part of the room, it was heavily shadowed.

The stranger was sitting quite comfortably in one of the farthest chairs and was covered in shadows. Indeed, it was hard to tell where his black battle robes ended and the shadows began. He was completely covered in the robes except for his eyes, which shone bright silver. The man shifted slightly and Dumbledore caught a glimpse of a sword with a silver hilt that was decorated with emeralds.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore asked the shadowy figure, not allowing his voice to show his nervousness.

"Tut tut, Dumbledore," The man said in a mocking voice, "So rude. And I was only trying to help. Well, I suppose if you don't want the information that I was going to give you…" He gave a dramatic sigh.

"No, no," Dumbledore said hurriedly, "You can stay." The man remained silent. Dumbledore waited, becoming more nervous every minute and sweating slightly under the man's calm stare.

"I apologize for my earlier rudeness," Dumbledore continued, "This place is supposed to be secret, so you can imagine my concern when a complete stranger appears in the middle of a meeting."

"Well then," the man said, "There's going to be a Death Eater raid in Diagon Alley in about…Five minutes." The hall erupted in murmurs.

"And why should we believe you?" Moody growled suspiciously.

"Who do you think you are? You can't just waltz in here and expect us to believe you!" Ron said rudely. The clamor of protests became louder and louder until Dumbledore intervened.

"ENOUGH!" he shouted, "We thank you for your information but we really have no way of telling if it is a trap or not. How did you get this information?"

"A trap in the middle of Diagon Alley?" the man asked disbelievingly, "Merlin, your stupider than I thought. I got this information my own way and I couldn't care less if you believe me or not. I just wanted to give you an opportunity to save lives." Dumbledore looked questioningly at one of the Order members.

"I have heard nothing of this attack," said the Order member, "But the Dark Lord has become more and more closed around me so I cannot be sure."

"That's because he knows you're a spy, Snape," the man said cheerfully, "And he's planning to have you killed, just so you know. He's already angry because you ignored his call just half an hour ago." Dumbledore, who had stopped Snape from going to that meeting, was becoming worried. Who was this man who seemed to know so much about Tom?

"Still," Dumbledore said, "there's no…" He was interrupted as emerald flames roared to life in the fireplace and somebody fell into the room.

"Dumbledore," wheezed the little old wizard who fell out of the fireplace, "Diagon Alley…There's been an attack…You-Know-Who…He's there…Was minding the shop…Death Eaters everywhere…" The Order members exchanged glances.

"Thank you, Alfred," Dumbledore said, springing to action, "Madame Pomfrey, please take him to the hospital wing. I'm afraid you'll have many more patents before long." He turned to look at the man who had informed them of the attack but he was gone. Dumbledore had no time to worry about him; he'd spend time on that later. They had to protect Diagon Alley!

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Okay, I know the way I did it was awfully cliché, but I sort of like it this way…And I added some new stuff…I think? Ah, whatever.

Trunks2598: Well, Salazar's reborn in this chapter and the other two get their memories back towards the end of Harry's imprisonment. Thanks for the review!

As: Oh, and why not? I pretty much hate Ron and Hermione, but Ginny isn't bad…

DebzThePadFootmoonyPron: Well yes, I like Severus and yes, he will be on Harry's side. Sort of. Salazar is already booked as Harry, sorry 'bout that. And Godric…Well go read Dark Angle (one of my other fics); he's not Neville, though Neville is nice and it's a good guess. For Hufflepuff…Well yeah, Susan Bones was one of my two guesses, though I wanted to put her in Rowena/Luna's year. Her current identity is pretty much undecided, though I have a pretty good idea. Sadly, Sev and Harry did not get along before his arrest…But they shall get along later.

UnSerious Sirius: Thank you! Yes, Luna's oddness is an act, though oddness is awesome…

HermioneGreen: Thanks! But uh…Worms on your tongue? Ah whatever…

Spinnerofdark: Yup, same theme with a different plot. Yeah, Harry is still the one destined to defeat Voldie, though Dumbledore doesn't consider it might be him. Dunno, it makes perfect sense to my muses…

Valkyrie Nienna Helyanwe: The original plan for that prophesy was to make it seem a little less like Harry…But whatever. Dumbledore didn't consider that Harry could be the one in that prophesy, maybe because he doesn't know that Harry was 'reborn as the seventh month dies'.

Yashaness: I've been very lazy recently…But I will update both stories eventually. Thankees!

…: Dark Angle will be updated, but not for a while. In the meantime, I'm going to have fun with my new fic. Thank you!

Tcalo: Thank you! 0.o Spanish? Didn't mean to do that…It's fixed now.

Ra's image: Thankees! I don't particularly have anything against Dumbledore but Manipulative!Dumbledore stories are fun.

Jensindenial3516, Hazel Maraa, Concrete13rose, OniLion, HecateDeMort, Pazed, Sealunis, Quillian, and Elvengoddess696: Thank you!

lmill123: Thanks! It took a while to put together the prophesy but I like the end result. I said in the summary that Harry is Salazar (I'm completely obsessed with that, it's in all my other fics too). Neville isn't a founder in my story, but it is a good idea.

Gah, what is with these advertisements on the bottom?

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