Three days after their arrival on Gairsay Island, Rose Potter and the Greengrasses found the remains of Slytherin's home.

Astoria had jokingly suggested that they would find some sort of grand manor house, filled with portraits and books and notes, hidden knowledge lost to time, and treasures unimagined. Her mother noted that the manor houses popular today were not common in the 11th Century, and that anything Slytherin himself built would probably be much closer to a castle. Astoria remained unconvinced.

For her part, Daphne wasn't sure what they would find. Surely, there would be something worth protecting behind a fidelius charm, but what that might be was anyone's guess. Rose had managed to get her idea across when she suggested the trip, telling them that "Salazar Slytherin may have settled on Gairsay Island at one point." She couldn't come out and tell them the secret, of course, but comparing the situation to the difference between Greengrass Manor and the home of the Greengrass family did the job.

In some ways, it was a meaningless distinction - but for Rose Potter, who had barely known a home of her own, it meant everything. When the group walked up the grassy hill, toward the small structure they had found, it was only Rose who understood the significance of the find. To the others, this was a house of some sort. To Slytherin, it had been home.

At the top of the hill, the group found a small stone cabin, sitting inside a modest yard and surrounded by an iron fence. The gate that blocked the footpath had the Slytherin crest worked into the metal, though there was a narrow gap within the coiled body of the snake at the base of the crest.

Daniel Greengrass examined the crest closely, and then shrugged. "Normally, you would press a family ring to the crest, and the gate would open."

"We don't have a Slytherin family ring, though, Dad," said Astoria.

"No, we don't…" said Rose, her voice trailing off. Then she took another look at the crest, and the gap worked into the metal. "It couldn't be that simple, could it?" she asked herself.

"What couldn't?" asked Daniel.

Instead of answering, Rose stepped away from the gate and looked up. "Dobby?"

With a pop, Dobby appeared nearby, holding a long bundle wrapped in green cloth. Reaching down, Rose carefully unwrapped the bundle and drew out the Blade of Slytherin. The scimitar was held in a leather scabbard that Lord Hillyer had provided, as the one he had conjured in the Chamber would not have lasted forever.

"Thank you Dobby," Rose said, inclining her head to the elf. Dobby gave her a small bow, and then disappeared.

Daphne could not take her eyes off of the legendary sword, despite having seen it before. "I wondered why you didn't bring it with you, Rose."

Rose slowly pulled the steel blade from its scabbard, once again admiring the blade in her hand - and what it meant. "I wasn't sure what we'd find, and some might take offence to visitors armed with swords."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Even that sword?"

That got a shrug from Rose. "Maybe? It's not like I've done this before."

"It's not like anyone has done this before, dear," remarked Selena.

"There's that as well," agreed Rose. With both hands on the blade, Rose approached the gate. Gently, she brought the curved point of the scimitar up to the crest. Now that she had an opportunity to compare the two, she saw that the gap in the crest was the exact same size as the opening of the scabbard. Taking that as a good sign, Rose carefully slid the blade through the crest.

When the gate began to move, Rose withdrew the blade and returned it to its sheath. The grinding of metal was the only sound, as the gate opened to admit them. Daphne carefully extended a hand, and was surprised when she encountered no magic.

"It's as if there are no wards," she remarked. "Nothing."

"There has to be something," replied Daniel. The elder Greengrass had his wand out, casting detection spells. He frowned as the results came to him. "You're right, there's nothing. No wizards, no muggles, no wards. Nothing at all."

Selena Greengrass was not convinced. "There must be something here, some sort of ward scheme. Would Slytherin have left a house unprotected?"

Astoria gestured at the cabin before them. "There's not much to protect, mum."

Slinging the blade onto her back, Rose eyed the cabin suspiciously. "Whatever is here, someone wanted it found. Or they never would have left the secret where someone could see it."

"That doesn't mean there isn't danger, Rose," said Daniel.

Rose looked up at Daphne's father. "True." She turned her eyes back to the cabin. "But I do know this. Whatever trap exists, it's a Slytherin one."

"I know," Daniel replied. "Quite cunning, to invite your victims in, isn't it?"

"Maybe, but what would there be to gain?" Rose asked. "What would we have that interests the great Salazar Slytherin?"

"That sword, perhaps?" Daphne speculated. "It was Slytherin's, after all."

Rose reached up and tapped the handle over her shoulder. "If Salazar Slytherin is sitting in that… house, waiting for someone to bring his sword back, then he's welcome to it." She gestured at the gate. "Come to think of it, he could have just kept it when I put it in the gate. No, I don't think it's that."

Daniel Greengrass found himself nodding. "I still don't like it."

"I know," Rose answered. "But you know how Slytherins are with secrets, after all. Seems we come by it honestly."

With that, she began walking toward the cabin, the Greengrasses following close behind.

oOoOoOoOo

The cabin was empty.

Bare stone walls, bare wooden floors, and a hole in the roof near one corner of the room, as if the structure had been unfinished. On the far wall, there was a single wooden door.

Rose stepped to the middle of the room, looking around for any hint of disillusionment charms or other hidden items, but there was no sign of anything at all.

"Not what I expected," said Rose quietly, as she regarded the bare room.

"That's the idea, Miss Potter," said a new voice.

Rose whirled around to face the closed door, and saw a white-haired man pass through. He wore white robes with green trim, and had a long white beard to match his unkempt hair. His eyes were a brilliant green, and his expression was a mixture of kindness and curiosity.

It took only a moment to realize that the newcomer was a ghost, and likely harmless as a result. That thought did little to put Rose at ease, however.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The man gave her an exaggerated bow. "I am all that remains of Salazar Slytherin's legacy."

Rose shook her head, annoyed at the non-answer. "That may be what you are, but it tells me nothing about who you are."

The ghost's eyes grew wide at that, and a look of amusement crossed his face. "Well spoken, Miss Potter." He placed a hand on his heart as he spoke. "My name is Salazar Slytherin. I was named after my grandfather, who was the founder of our clan, and one of the founders of Hogwarts."

Rose nodded in appreciation. "I see." She turned to introduce the Greengrasses, only to find that they were not in the cabin.

Slytherin's face grew serious. "Your companions are outside, Miss Potter. For this discussion, it really should be kept in the family."

"They are the nearest to family that I have in this world, sir." If Slytherin had not been a ghost, he would have sworn that the temperature in the room dropped several degrees, such was the ice in her tone.

"Perhaps," the ghost replied, looking at her with an appraising eye.

"Perhaps nothing." Rose answered. She had to fight the impulse to draw her wand. How dare a ghost disparage the Greengrasses like that?

Slytherin simply nodded at her words. "Let us say that you did not find the entire secret in my grandfather's chamber, Miss Potter. Tell me," He gestured at the cabin. "What do you see here?"

Rose kept her eyes on the ghost. "The cabin appears empty."

A slight frown crossed the ghost's features - that had not been the answer he expected. "You stand in the center of Slytherin's Legacy. Knowing what you know of our honorable house, what does that tell you?"

She glanced around, considering that. "I would say that, apart from you, this cabin contains only what I brought to it."

Slytherin grinned. "Just so, Miss Potter."

"And like our House," Rose continued, "It stands in the shadow of ghosts."

The frown returned. "Go on," prompted the ghost.

Rose took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Slytherin is the house for those who expect the world to be handed to them due to their blood, their name, their wealth. They think that your grandfather fought against the muggleborn, even going so far as to leave a basilisk in the school to slaughter them." She shook her head as she recalled the previous halloween. "Slytherin house is filled with children who have been taught that they can threaten their fellow students with death, and get away with it, just because they are pure of blood."

"My grandfather would never have tolerated any such behavior," spat the ghost, visibly angered by her account.

"That, I can believe," agreed Rose. "No one who hates muggleborn would spend years of his life teaching them western magic."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow at that. "My grandfather's time in Shustar is not well known."

"No, but it should be," said Rose. "The shadow of Salazar Slytherin looms large over the house that bears his name, but it's just a ghost - nothing like his true legacy."

"So," the ghost replied, quietly. "What would my grandfather's true legacy be?"

Rose drew the blade from its scabbard, holding it up to the light. "Let their cunning guide their ambition, lest the cost grow too dear." The ghost continued to gaze at her, as if inviting her to continue, and so she did. "Consider Hogwarts. Hufflepuff is the house of loyalty. Gryffindor, the house of bravery. Ravenclaw, the house of wisdom. But in Slytherin, we have both cunning and ambition. And we need both, because each one governs the other."

"Does it, though?" asked the ghost, intrigued.

"I think that was the idea," Rose said. "What good is cunning without a goal, without something to gain or protect or defend? You have to have the drive to work for something in order to even begin to conceive of a plan to accomplish your goal."

The ghost nodded. "What of ambition, then? The drive for power? Where does that fit into your philosophy, Miss Potter?"

"Pure ambition is self defeating," she replied. Then a conversation with Seeker came to mind, and she smiled. "Voldemort once told me that good and evil were just words, and that all that mattered was power. 'There is only power,' he said, 'and those too weak to seek it.'"

Slytherin frowned at that, but said nothing.

"It was the coward's path," Rose continued, recalling the phrase Marigold had used against her version of the diary. "The man was so afraid that he could do nothing but grasp for all the power he could. But that sort of ambition, that greed, it consumes you. No matter how much power you end up with, it's never enough."

"Again, very well stated, Miss Potter," said the ghost. It was clear that he had not expected the answers he was getting, and was honestly impressed. "Lessons learned in the streets of Little Whinging, I suspect?"

Rose's eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"Let me tell you what I see, Miss Potter, when I look at you." The ghost gestured at Rose, who fought the impulse to step away. "I see a young witch who knew nothing about the House of Slytherin when she was sorted into it, and yet flourishes in the silver and green. A witch who wields her words almost as well as she wielded that sword, when the time for words was past." The ghost's eyes softened, a sad expression on his face as he continued. "A witch who knew, long ago, that the only safety to be had was what she could make for herself."

Rose's thoughts went to the knife in her boot, and to the day she had begun carrying it. The day she gave Piers Polkiss a black eye after he grabbed her, and then later broke the knee of his brother Niall when he threatened her for beating up his brother. The day Vernon - the old Vernon - had shown her exactly what he thought of her defending herself.

Spellforged had been surprised at her anger the previous February, when she had been ambushed by Ginny and the Diary's compulsions. Rose had never explained why she took it as such a personal failure.

"Power," the ghost continued, "is meaningless without purpose." Again his eyes met Rose's. "And there is no higher purpose than defending one's family."

Rose smiled sadly at that, ignoring the echo of her own words to Draco in the hospital wing, after the attack on Astoria. "As you said, I have no true family. It's just me."

"So you say," replied the ghost. Then he gestured at the blade in her hand. "And yet, here you are."

oOoOoOoOo

Rose tilted her head at the ghost of Slytherin's grandson. "Here I am," she repeated, not sure where he was going. The probing questions had made sense to her, for this ghost surely cared about the legacy of his house. How had he known about her, though? Her history was not something she ever talked about, even with the link - so where did this ghost learn of it?

"You came here for a reason, Rose Potter," intoned the ghost. He gestured at the empty stone cabin, as if to indicate the riches that were not there. "What did you seek when you travelled to this lonely island?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she found herself unsure how to answer.

Slytherin did not give her a chance to collect her thoughts. "You wonder why you weren't a lion."

Rose stilled, almost glaring at the ghost. If the knowledge of her past had shocked her, the suggestion that this ghost knew about that chilled her to the core.

"You wonder what made you different, don't you?" Slytherin continued. "Why do you have to be singled out as a snake, when you had enough troubles as the girl-who-lived?" He looked at her intently, and she felt as if he was peering directly into her soul. "You wonder why you have to go it alone."

She shook her head, anger starting to creep into her voice. "I'm never alone. But you seem to know that."

"I suspected," answered Slytherin, with a nod. Off her look of horror, Slytherin's ghost raised a hand placatingly. "Your secrets are your own, of course. It will stay within the family."

This again? "I have no family," she repeated.

"So you said," he agreed. "Until today."

Rose sighed in exasperation. "Is it a trait of our house to never speak plainly about anything? Say what you mean!"

The frustration in her voice was plain, but all it did was cause the ghost to chuckle. "As you wish, young one. You found my grandfather's chamber, you learned his secret, and Hogwarts herself gifted you with the Blade of Slytherin. Then you come here seeking no wealth, no power, only knowledge and answers. And when I question you, you give a better explanation of what it means to be Slytherin than even my grandfather could have given."

His voice was kind as he spoke, and Rose felt the tension draining away - anxiety she had not even known she had lifted from her like a weight.

"Rose Potter," he continued, "You have a family, if you wish it." He smiled at her. "My own."

oOoOoOoOo

The offer shocked her. But she was wary - she knew how awful Seeker's year had been, with accusations of being the Heir of Slytherin keeping tensions high, even after the basilisk had been exposed and dealt with. Now, to be offered a place in that House, officially? She worried that something similar would happen, even as she knew that her place in the den of snakes would make things easier.

Before she could really consider the proposition, she found herself asking the question foremost on her mind. "Why me?"

Slytherin's ghost seemed to straighten at that, as if he had expected the question.

"Simply put, Miss Potter," he said, "You are the keystone."

She blinked at him. "I'm the what?"

The ghost waved his hand, and seven wedges of stone appeared. As the ghost gestured, the stones arranged themselves into two stacks of three stones each. Rose saw that they were parts of an archway.

"Always, there are groups of witches and wizards, in every era. They work for good, they work for evil, they work to simply live their lives as they wish. But occasionally, there is one among them who changes everything." As he spoke, the two stacks of stone shimmered, and the magic that held them disappeared. Immediately, the stacks collapsed in on each other, before falling to the floor. "Everything rests on that one witch, and her choices can change the fate of the world."

Rose considered the seventh stone, larger than the others. She saw where this was going, and found herself losing patience for the show. "That one can't do anything alone, though."

"No," agreed the ghost. Again the stones arranged themselves, with the seventh slotting itself between the two stacks of stone. Once released, the makeshift structure stood solidly. "The wizarding world will rely on you, Rose Potter. Far too much, perhaps, but it is what it is. Both sides will look to you, and to your wisdom. In the end," The ghost gestured at the arch. "You will have to be the keystone that holds everything together."

She shook her head and sighed. "No pressure, then," she muttered.

The ghost, for the first time, laughed. "For one without the proper cunning, it would be an insurmountable task. But then, we're talking about you, Miss Potter." He kept smiling as he watched for her reaction. "I can think of no one better to one day serve as the Regent Slytherin."

"Oh, hell," she spat, not realizing that she spoke out loud.

The ghost laughed again. "That was my reaction, when my grandfather named me his regent."

Rose eyed the ghost curiously. "There's a story there, I think."

A nod. "One for another day. I will say just that my grandfather grew so disgusted with the wizards of his day that he withdrew from the world, choosing to simply retire. Some took exception to that, and sought him out. He rebuffed them. And when they made noises about forcing him to do as they wished, he named me Regent of his house and disappeared."

"He went home," Rose whispered. "Salazar Slytherin's home is on Gairsay Island."

"Yes," the ghost agreed. "A secret only a true Slytherin could find." He gestured at the blade in her hand. "I had no children, and nor did my sister. We were the only grandchildren. So Slytherin's blood died with us. But not the House, never the House."

"Merlin," she gasped. "You weren't kidding. Slytherin's Legacy, it really is only what I brought to it."

Another nod. "Yes. If anyone is to return Slytherin to its proper place, it would be you."

Rose stood there, looking at the ghost for a moment, and Slytherin was content to allow her the time to absorb the news he had given her. It was a big ask, he knew that. But if it had not been vital, he never would have made the offer.

Too much rested on this witch.

As if she read his mind, Rose sighed. "I'd like time to think about it."

"Of course," the ghost agreed. "I will be here when you wish to speak." He indicated the door through which she had entered. "For now, I believe you have several very worried friends to reassure."

Nodding, Rose sheathed the sword. Turning to the entrance, she paused. "Thank you, Regent Slytherin, for your candor."

The ghost smiled. "No, Rose, thank you."

With that, Rose walked out of the cabin.

oOoOoOoOo

Slytherin's ghost watched the young witch leave. Then he spoke once more.

"You can come out now."

A second ghost materialized in the corner of the empty cabin. He wore the fashion of a 17th century nobleman - far different from the simple robe of his host. The cutlass at his waist completed the look of a once dashing fighter, if you ignored the blood that still dripped from its ethereal steel.

"Masterfully done, Sal," said the second ghost.

"Did you expect anything less, old friend?" replied Slytherin. He inclined his head toward the door that Rose Potter had taken to leave. "She was much like your description. If anything, you understated your case."

The Bloody Baron nodded, accepting the compliment. "It has to be her, Salazar."

"Oh, aye, that it does. I've got no question about that now."

"She has to be the Blade," the Baron continued. "There can be no other. It fits too neatly."

"Aye," Slytherin agreed. "Of all of them, she was the most obvious. But I have no idea where to find the others."

The Baron nodded. "Find them we must. And if we can't, she will have to."

"Yes," whispered Slytherin. "I fear for the world if she fails."

"They will visit death upon ye sevenfold," the Baron said solemnly, speaking the words of the prophecy. "She won't fail us. She can't."

Slytherin nodded absently, saying nothing, his eyes still on the last great hope for the House of Slytherin - and, perhaps, the wizarding world.


A/N: A shorter chapter to kick things loose, and get us moving toward Year Three. I'll spare you the apologies for the long absence if you all just pretend that it's business as usual 'round here.

Yes, the Bloody Baron listens in on his snakes - and noticed when Rose dropped hints about more than she would have liked. Some of their knowledge is speculation, some is pure guesswork, but the result is that they know Rose quite well, which of course unnerved her.

This easily could have been 10 thousand words about the life and times of Slytherin the elder, but I like the perspective of outsiders on his legacy - like the historical accounts from previous chapters, to the perspective of a grandson. We'll learn more about the man himself as we go - as will Rose.

Meanwhile, for a girl who wanted nothing to do with being the High Priestess of All Things Slytherin, being offered the Regency - and not knowing what comes with it - is a bit of a shock. But by nightfall, you can be assured that Rose is already thinking through all of the angles - and with Daphne advising her, she could really do little but accept. How that impacts events, we'll see.

Stay safe out there, kids. A nursing home near me is on complete lockdown, after COVID-19 cases cropped up suddenly. It only takes one sneeze, y'all.

Feedback, as always, is welcome.