Why is Harry now "Salazar"; it's like Salazar just took over?
Harry's lives fused together so he's really not one or the other. Mostly I chose Salazar because I used Harry in my other fic - and that he had several different identities at one point and I couldn't decide which to use. I decided to try and prevent that from happening. But, while this is my primary reason, I do have others. So much of Harry's life has been manipulated by others, primarily Dumbledore but also the rest of the wizarding world. They forced them into the mask of their savior, never giving him a say in the matter, and used him as their scapegoat. Salazar's life was at least partially free of masks and so I think that his name would be the one that is connected more to himself; his opinions, his ideas, his skills...just as they are without other people's interference. He still has his memories of Harry and nobody killed him (in a way, it was the wizarding world that killed him - shattering the masks they forced upon him). I hope this was a satisfactory answer and I will try and show more of his Harry-like tendencies.
Who are the reincarnations of Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor?
For Godric I'll say that he's the same here as in Dark Angel but you find it out anyhow in the very beginning of this chapter. For Helga I'm only 98 positive so I won't answer that yet. Have to keep some mystery in here, after all. You should find out within the next couple chapters.
Is this going to be slash (male/male pairing)?
Three people have asked this: one for, one against, and one neutral. I myself am neutral so I'd like everybody's opinion - I do have one part of the story that can be either. Harry won't be paired with anybody and there won't be more than a brief mention of the pairing. So are you totally against it? Neutral? Totally for it?
Why was Lord Gryffindor so mean to Salazar?
The reasons behind the betrayal of Salazar's friends are explained in the beginning of this chapter. You shouldn't make assumptions on hearing just one side of the story.
Take all the annoying chat stuff out of your chapters...It's against the ffnet guidelines to put anything but story content in the chapters...thx...If you are a chatty bird I would suggest email or IRC...these are both common tools chatty ppl use.
Thank you for the warning. I needed to go look up the rules again anyhow. It says, "The chapter system is not to be used as placeholder for non-story content such as author notes. You can add short author notes to the beginning or at the end of stories but never as individual chapters." I try to keep my author notes short and I use them to explain to the reader what I think they should know. In some places (particularly at the end of chapters) I put more chatty stuff but often telling things like what I thought the quality of the chapter was or a just a little note. These at the top, the answers to questions, I think are important because I prefer that reviewers don't ask the same questions over and over and it's much simpler for everyone if people can see what questions have been answered. I consider them part of the story. I am, however, considering starting a Yahoo group for discussion – once I think up a name.
Other questions asked were too vague, gave away too much of the plot, or are things that I don't know myself yet.
Disclaimer: I own nothing at all; least of all Harry Potter or something awesome like that.
:Mindspeech:
-Parseltongue-
Chapter Three: Of Aftermaths and Werewolves
Someone was crying, sobbing hysterically. What was the matter? He tried to open his eyes but they seemed so heavy...Go back to sleep, a voice whispered in his mind, Just sleep through it. The weight of his eyelids suddenly seemed a thousand times heavier.
No, another part of his mind thought, why should I? Someone's upset; I should see what's the matter. I won't run...away...from...anything. Why did the words "run away" strike a particular chord inside him? What had happened? Why was his mind so fuzzy? Why couldn't he think strait? What was this odd, echoing voice in his head...was it...feminine? Why couldn't he open his eyes?
At his last question he could to something about. Open, he commanded mentally as he attempted to open his eyes. He frowned when nothing happened.
Sleep, the voice whispered once again, seeming annoyed at his persistence, Go to sleep...There's no need to worry...Just forget...and sleep...
No! And this time his own voice was stronger. I won't! He struggled to open his eyes, concentrated on how much he wanted to see what was going on, wanted to know who was crying. His magic built up, wrapping around him, subconsciously struggling against the intrusion.
The voice hissed, seemingly in pain and seemed to withdraw. He relaxed but his magic didn't, sensing what he could not - the tiniest thread of mindmagic left behind in his mind. Again the voice hissed, an odd, whimpering pain, and this time, it withdrew fully.
Godric opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was white; tons and tons of it. He knew where he must be - the only place with this excessive an amount of sheer whiteness was the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. What was he doing here?
He managed to turn his head a little and his vision blurred viciously. When it cleared he could see Rowena, sitting by his bed, eyes red and cheeks tear-stained.
"Re'na?" Godric croaked. Just beyond her he could see Helga, surprisingly calmer, though she had always been the one with a level head throughout any situation - her and Salazar.
"Godric, you're awake!" Rowena looked up, eyes still brimming with tears but a small smile of relief adorning her lips.
He heard the slap before he felt it. Godric blinked, confused as to what force had pushed his face to the side until it dawned on him. Rowena, in a move so swift that he hadn't had time to register it in his confused state, had slapped him! Rowena, the aloof enchantress, seemingly above physical contact such as hits and hugs!
"You fool!" She shouted, "You idiot! Salazar has left the school and it's all your fault!" She sat there, hiccoughing, for a minute.
"Now, now, Rowena," Helga said gently, "Let's not act rashly. Let's see what Godric has to say for himself." Godric was confused. In fact, he was way beyond confused. He seemed to have trouble registering words properly. Salazar...left? What had happened?
Helga seemed to be looking at him intently, though her eyes were slightly unfocused,
"See, look here," She said, jabbing at a spot near his head, "Some sort of mindmagic has been worked on him. He probably hasn't a clue what he did or even what we're saying right now. Don't you remember the other kids from the orphanages? They hadn't a clue about most essential magics. It's a miracle that these two have survived this long...Long enough to be able to explore magics on their own and learn a fair amount. Godric probably never felt the need to cover mindmagics."
"I'm not sure it was luck," Rowena said, frowning, "Didn't you feel as if Salazar knew some whenever you were around him, perhaps even more than you?"
Helga thought for a minute, Rowena's thoughtful frown mirrored on her face,
"Not really...But you're mindmagic is more sensitive than mine...And now that you mention it..."
"Oh, he was subtle, alright. He must have learned it before the orphanage – those things they used to call magic schools - learned even enough to help protect Godric."
"But that's terribly advanced!" Helga exclaimed, "Not even I can...And he must have been..." She tried to do the math, frowned and shook her head. That couldn't be right. She tried again, but she kept coming back to the same numbers.
"He would have to have been ten, at the youngest," Rowena supplied grimly, "And that would be when he learned how to protect other people with his own magic. Normal people can spend their whole lifetimes and not come anywhere near."
"Oh come on," Helga said, "I know he's extremely strong magically - we all are - but to be able to do all that at that age...It's imposable."
"You didn't ever feel as if he was holding back? That he wasn't showing his full potential?"
"No..."
"Typical. Neither Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors are known for being able to read between the lines and sense things that are not shown."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What if I told you that Salazar wasn't completely devoted to your precious Light?"
"I'd tell you that's absurd. And since when has it been my Light. We all serve the Light; we've fought wars for it!" Helga was looking at Rowena warily.
"The last one of which he didn't want to...and didn't actually end up participating in. Did he ever have a choice?"
"There were a hundred opportunities to make us surrender. If he was Dark he would have taken one."
"Just because he isn't Light doesn't mean he serves them," and she put that same particular twist on the word that Salazar did, whenever he referred to the Dark, "And just because he's fighting our war for us doesn't mean he has to go all out. You've taught Slytherins as much as I have. Have you seen the way they act? It drives me mad; always hiding their potential, trying to gain the upper had, even though I'm there teacher. The only person who I've not seen them try to overthrow is Salazar. Maybe they see in him what you and Godric never have. But then again, you must have noticed it, even if you don't see it; too loyal for your own good. Why else would you have allowed Godric the power to overthrow Salazar if need be?"
"You're mistaken! That was a troubled time in the school; I was afraid it would crack under the pressure, all the houses turning against each other so badly, and Slytherin (the house, not Salazar) standing in the background, pulling all the strings just to see if they could, just to test out their new wings. It was a nightmare." Helga trailed off, ending in barely a whisper.
"You do see it then! Salazar was the only person able to keep them under control! They're impulsive and barely know right from wrong, don't know love except for a vague notion, unlike your Hufflepuffs, who have been raised and nourished by it their whole life! With him gone...But we were going to hear Godric's side of the story. We know he's under some type of influence, can you remove it?" Her tone made it clear that she expected no more conversation on the subject.
Helga tried anyway,
"But...How do you know all this?"
"Can you remove it?" Rowena repeated, ignoring Helga's question.
"Possibly..." Helga examined the magic again, this time more thoroughly, "Probably...Look, it's already broken here. It appears that Salazar's protective magic has helped again."
"Probably with a little help from Godric's own stubbornness and strength of will," Rowena said and they shared a smile.
"A good Argutiae charm should do it...Together on three?" Helga suggested. Rowena nodded and tried to find the spot that Helga had indicated earlier. "One...Two...Three!" Two bright flashes of silver-blue light, twin lights that didn't seem quite lights but an odd bending of the air around themselves, shot towards Godric.
Godric shot upright, the numb feeling fleeing his mind, leaving behind just a sort of tired feeling.
"Rowena! Helga! What happened? What was that?" This time he saw the movement but it was too fast and too late to do anything about. With another loud crack! Helga's hand, one that had healed more people that most people saw in a lifetime, shot out and struck him across his cheek.
"Helga!" Rowena exclaimed as Godric gently touched his stinging cheeks.
"He probably doesn't even remember your slap," Helga stated calmly, "You and I both know that he has the power and resources to fight off the spell had he not at all agreed with what he's done."
"We both know that Godric can't abide cowards, people who run from battle. Even a sliver of doubt would have negated Sal's protection." She suddenly gave in to a fit of giggles.
"What?" Helga asked, wondering what could possibly be funny about the situation.
"Can you imagine the looks on the student's faces when they find out 'Lord Gryffindor' was beat up by a pair of girls? He'll have those marks for weeks," And indeed, a red hand print was beginning to form on each cheek.
"Let them talk," Helga sniffed derisively, "It's the least he's deserved."
"What have I deserved?" Asked Godric, not appreciating being talked about as if he wasn't there.
They turned to look at him.
"You mean you don't remember?" Helga asked, "Odd..." Rowena, too, was frowning. This didn't go along the lines of normal, offensive mindmagics.
"Godric..." Rowena started. She paused, and switched to her more business-like, lecturing tone, "I'm not sure how much you remember. We recently left the school to defend Hogsmeade from an attack by the new Dark Lady. Salazar...He left. Just like that, apparated away back to the castle. We're not sure the reason...But...these people were on a whole new level. I suspect the only one of us that would be able to defeat even one of them would be Sal."
"Sal?" Godric tried to sort through the information given to him. Sal had run? But Sal wasn't afraid of anything! "Why do you think Sal would be better than any of us? He's as strong as any of us, sure...Probably stronger, but all of together should be better than us...Right?"
Helga and Rowena looked at each other.
"Sal knows probably more about these new Dark Magic users – I believe they call themselves Death's Children - than all of us put together...Why do you think he fled?" Rowena explained.
"Has Sal ever mentioned his childhood before the orphanage to you?" Helga asked.
Godric frowned,
"Not really...Why?"
"Rowena thinks Sal might not be exactly...Light." Helga explained.
Godric gave them an odd look,
"Well, of course. He never told you?" At the other two's puzzled looks he clarified, "Sal was raised by his mom...She wasn't exactly Light and she was the one who taught him magic. She was murdered by her muggle husband when he was just ten. What of it?"
"Godric..." Helga started; she seemed shocked about the calm way he had rattled of Sal's horrible past. But then again, he had probably seen worse at the orphanage, "Being Dark isn't exactly...Respected."
"Anyways, we're off topic." Rowena cut in. They could have discussions about the Light and the Dark later. "These "Death's Children" know types of magic that even the last Dark Lord didn't use. Forbidden magic, definitely Dark by definition. There were three spells in particular that I didn't recognize. The red one brought excruciating agony to whomever it hit - Helga and I being the most heavily targeted by it. There was also another, a mindmagic, barely visible but pale blue that forced our own people against each us. And then there was the third one..." Rowena shuddered, seemingly incapable of forming the words.
"The color of Sal's eyes," Godric whispered, "the one that reeked of death."
"You were hit with the mindmagic," Rowena explained, "After being under the pain one for a brutal length of time. You passed out; I think it's some sort of safety measure in your own mindmagics. You awoke later, under the influence of the spell, and banished Sal from the school."
Godric's eyes were wide, his head shaking in denial,
"I didn't! I promised I would never use that! I wouldn't have!"
"You were weak from the torture and perhaps a bit mad at Salazar for leaving us in that situation. You didn't have a chance against the mindmagic." Rowena explained patiently, "Whether you choose to believe it or not, Sal has left the school."
"Then I'll find him!" Godric exclaimed, "I'll find him and apologize to him and beg him to come back. Without him..." he shuddered, "I don't know how we'd cope. The Slytherins need looking after and...I don't know what I'd do without Sal." He fought to stand up, but he stumbled and Helga forced him back into bed.
"Don't be hasty," She told him, "Sal's already gone. You need rest and a couple more hours wouldn't make the situation any worse. Rowena and I will start searching, all right?" Rowena nodded in agreement behind her. "You'll only hinder us in your state."
Godric nodded reluctantly, knowing the truth behind her words. He lay back down, tired but unwilling to sleep. Within seconds, however, he was half asleep.
Rowena stood up,
"Well, there's nothing more to do here. I'm off to the library to gather some spell books...and then I shall try a few spells to find him. I don't expect any to work, though," Her eyes were sad.
"Do you think we'll ever be able to find Sal?" Helga asked in a small voice and Rowena looked back at her friend. Despite all they had been through, Helga was still as innocent as a small child and sometimes twice as naïve.
"I hope so," She answered, and walked across the room. At the door she paused and, without turning back, said, "My ravens...sometimes I get one that even I can't help...Salazar always gets to them in the end...Without him the suicide rates would have tripled."
"Suicide rates?" Helga asked, appalled, "there have been no suicides!"
"David Corbin, threw himself off of the astronomy tower – thus causing it to be banned outside of classes; Phoebe Arden hung herself by the banister of the third staircase on the fifth floor – later safety limits and animation spells were put on the staircase to prevent anyone from falling off, a good thing to, as Salazar proved three weeks later; Felna Harding drank poison – there are no ways to prevent this, as potions class is important and many of the ingredients needed are poisonous. Two Ravenclaws and a Gryffindor, all three could have been prevented if Sal spotted it or someone informed him. I believe he has a group if his Slytherins on the lookout for such things nowadays," She rattled the list off calmly, but Helga could hear the pain in her voice, could practically see the sadness radiating from her friend's eyes, though she couldn't see them. Helga could understand; she couldn't imagine loosing one of her own Hufflepuffs.
"But if Sal could have helped them, why weren't they put in Slytherin?" Helga asked. She knew the spells on the Sorting Hat as well as the other founders.
"The Sorting Hat usually puts the ones in need of help in Slytherin, but situations change. Sal did his best...And now he's gone." And she left the hospital wing, leaving Helga behind her, mouth agape and mind filled with information that could shatter her perfect, orderly world. And Godric, half asleep but absorbing enough of the conversation that he could replay it in his mind later.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master of Hogwarts glanced over at his godson and apprentice, Draco Malfoy, an expression remarkably like worry on his normally expressionless face. He was doing it again. His godson had been acting exceptionally strange, ever since his eighteenth birthday, when the boy had barged into his private chambers, stating quite loudly that he needed to speak to Harry Potter at once. He seemed disoriented and it had taken several minutes for Severus to remind his godson that Potter had been sent to Azkaban for life, and even with his remarkable connections it would be near impossible to visit him even with a good excuse. The boy had probably lost whatever questionable sanity that he possessed, having been locked up in the place for nearly three years. Even Black had been borderline sanity by this point, according to the records.
Snape sneered at the reminder of two of the most hated (by him at least) people that he had ever met - three actually, as thoughts of the Boy-Who-Lived always brought to mind his greatest humiliations at the hands of James Potter. He sneered again at the title, and even in his thoughts everything about the boy was mocking. Boy-Who-Lived! Pah! What was so special about living? The only people who cherished life were the dead!
But Potter and Black were dead now and the other Potter in Azkaban. Pettigrew had joined the Dark side and Lupin could barely do anything through his grief. They were all gone, the group that had called themselves the Marauders. Life should be peaceful without them to torment him...then why did he feel so restless?
Draco started awake and looked around the room, bleary-eyed. Again, he seemed disoriented and looked around the room as if he couldn't seem to find anything he recognized. Snape hated to admit it but at that moment he was scared for his godson. What had happened to make him this way? Finally his eyes alighted on Snape and his eyes brightened a little with recognition and relief.
"You make a good Slytherin Head," Draco mumbled. He blinked blearily and shook himself awake. At last he seemed to know where he was, "Sorry, did I miss anything?"
"Are you feeling all right, Draco? Maybe you should have Madame Pomfrey take a look at you."
"No, no, I'm perfectly fine." Draco insisted.
"Then maybe you should go to bed. It's getting late and you look exhausted."
"I'm not tired!" He sounded slightly petulant, like a small kid being put to bed. Snape noticed that his godson was barely able to bite back a yawn, a sure sign for a Slytherin to do something so revealing of his state of mind. "Well, maybe just a little." At Snape's raised eyebrow he gave in, "Fine, I'm going to bed, already!"
He got up to leave but at the door he stopped and looked back, unconsciously mirroring Rowena's movement,
"The world's ruled by irony, isn't it, Sev?"
"What's brought this on?" Snape asked, taken aback. Draco was always cheerful for a Slytherin, so much so that he had often doubted whether Slytherin really was the right house for his godson.
"Just a dream," Draco said vaguely, and drifted out of the room, back towards his own chambers.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Terra Lyall ran through the forest near her pack's small camp-like village. Any bigger and the ministry could forcibly kick them out of their home, as had happened before too many times to count. Werewolves had no rights, after all. No lawyer was willing to take a werewolf's case and, in their impoverished state, books on law were a futile hope, even in dreams.
She came to here destination, a beautiful lake that gave a good view of castle looming above the treetops, made small by distance. They had checked the castle for signs of inhabitance and found none before settling in, but Terra had seen a young man, perhaps in his late teens, several times while visiting the lake to fish and sketch the lake and distant castle. She had even managed to talk to him a few times, though briefly. This time Terra had brought food in hopes of luring him out. She had only been bitten recently, and she was treated as a child by most of the other members of her pack and resented this – she was twenty-six and proud of it. Brief though they were, she savored her conversations with the elusive boy.
"Come out!" Terra called, once she had her lunch spread out, "I've brought food enough to share."
"Trying to bribe me?" an amused voice asked from behind her. She shrieked and jumped to her feet, whirling around to come face to face with the mysterious boy. She put her hand over her heart; could feel it pounding. How had he done it? Novice though she was, nobody could sneak up on a werewolf undetected but another werewolf. And they could sense their own; this boy wasn't a werewolf. But she had never seen him up close before and took the opportunity to study him carefully.
Slightly long black hair and blue eyes and wearing black from head to toes; the boy looked nothing out of the ordinary, apart from the fact that he could probably use a little brighter clothing. Here werewolf instincts stirred, causing her to look a little closer. She frowned; though they were in the middle of a forest she saw not a speck of dirt on him, or even a scratch from a stray branch. He couldn't have come from far but the nearest buildings were the little huts in the village and the castle.
"Is that your house?" She asked, waving her arm in the direction of the castle, while sinking back down to the ground.
"No…this whole forest is open to anyone in need of a place to stay. Your pack is just one group out of many of the numerous creatures shunned from society."
Terra was instantly on her guard. Not many could calmly have a conversation with werewolves, Hunters among them. The Elders were constantly warning the little ones about them, those who hunted "Dark Creatures" for money. Some people were willing to pay a lot for various parts of werewolves, vampires, or even veela.
"No need to get touchy, miss, I'm an outcast of society just like you and your pack. Now…you said something about food? I haven't eaten since yesterday." Terra tried not to let down her guard but there was something about this strange boy that made her want to trust him, to help him. The wolf inside of her howled out a warning but this new feeling seemed to drown it out.
"I…Yes, I've got some. We don't get much food down in the village, mind, so I couldn't bring much. I've brought half a chicken and some fruit." Terra said, feeling strangely self-conscious.
"That'll be great," he suddenly cocked his head as if listening to something that even she couldn't her, "On second thought, I've got to go. I'll probably be able to find something to eat later."
"At least take some chicken with you!" Terra said scrambling to her feet.
"Oh, no, I couldn't…"
"Please? I must insist!"
Finally he accepted the scraps of chicken she was trying to force into his hands. He had turned as if to leave when she called,
"Wait!" He paused and looked back, "At least let me know your name?"
"I'm Sali. Sali Azar Slythurn." With a smile, he turned around and vanished.
Terra blinked. How had he done that? There were anti-apparation wards all around the forest, as several elders had figured out, nearly splinching themselves in the process. Who was he, really? She knew his name, but that barely scratched the surface. What had come over her to make her behave that way around him? The wolf inside her scolded her as if she was a pup, in a series of growls she could not understand.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Salazar Slid back to the castle, extremely pleased in how everything was going. He did feel a little guilty about taking the food, though. Werewolves had certain scents that marked others as their mates or part of their pack. He had been able to duplicate that scent, though more subtly. He hadn't expected it to work so well, maybe too well, but he needed to test it.
Of all the people that had turned on Harry, he had been the most hurt by Remus Lupin. He had never really believed in Ron, quick to anger and quick to judge others, or Hermione, who considered the facts, even if she had only part of the information. Remus, however, he had respected; as a friend, as a professor, and as one of his father's friends. Who better to hear the reason from than the man himself?
He was also eager to discover who had not betrayed him. Though publicly there were none, he was sure there were at least a couple people unsure about whether they had done the right thing. And if not…There was no reason to save them from Voldemort, it was as simple as that.
xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
How did I do keeping Severus in character? I really am trying in this story…
How did you like the memory? Good? Bad? Okay?
Terra's an OC (original character) but not a Mary-Sue in any way, shape, or form (I hope).
Note: Sali Azar Slythurn is pronounced Sa (as in Saw)-lee A–za-r Sly (as in Sly rather than Slytherin)–th-run.
Reviewers are awesome. They make me happy…And a happy author updates quicker. So…Review?