"Did you see the way she scuttled off?" snickered Blaise. "How long is your detention sentence, Draco?"
"A month," he snarled with outrage. "A whole bloody month! Can you believe that rubbish?"
Pansy clasped his hand. "Draco, what were you thinking? Starting a row with the Mudblood before half of Slytherin House?"
Goyle chuckled cheekily. "Well…at least we've got a pretty Mudblood. Never seen fear that cute before."
"Button it, Goyle," Malfoy barked, having to tune out Goyle's following guffaws. "I assumed the other Slytherins would side with me. But they all took pity on Granger!"
"That's 'cause a lot of Slytherins these days are blood traitors," Crabbe savagely traduced. "Sympathizing with the Mudbloods and what not!"
Blaise sneered, the glint of mischief in his eyes proposing a wicked reprisal. "I say we teach Granger a lesson―show her what happens when her kind tracks mud through our House."
Sinister grins of accord spread through the group. Malfoy turned to Pansy, his silvery eyes exerting the flirtatious influence they'd established over her on the train ride to Hogwarts. "Pansy…?"
"What do you want me to do, Draco?" she loyally purred.
"Wait until after Granger and her dorm mates have fallen asleep," he instructed. "I know of a hex that can make a person's hair fall―"
The sharp clearing of her throat made the five Slytherins all turn in unison to Gemma's glower; she was scrutinizing them with malice.
"Gemma! I…We were just talking about making amends with Granger!"
Her glare remained unwavering and unconvinced.
"Really!" Malfoy insisted. "I was going to write a heartfelt letter of apology to her and have Pansy leave it under her―!"
"If any harm has befallen Hermione come sunrise," Gemma spoke threateningly, "you and your little girlfriend will be out of Hogwarts faster than you can spell pureblood."
She stormed away from the group of first years. Her mind didn't linger on them for long. For she, the other prefects, and Head Boy and Girl were all going to coalesce and discuss how they were going to put the victimized Hermione at ease…
Hermione couldn't recall when she'd left bed and changed into her Slytherin uniform, or why she was emerging from the dormitories when she could practically feel that nighttime hadn't faded. The common room radiated an aura of unfamiliarity that was, somehow, more eerie than it had been when she first entered it. A fire was crackling at the fireplace, and a lone figure was seated in the carved chair before it. An inexplicable pull drew her nearer to the person casually seated before the fireplace.
"Uh…Excuse me?" She didn't even know what to ask. She didn't know why she was approaching a complete stranger.
The person slowly stood and faced Hermione―and made her paler than a ghost. Gray, penetrating eyes smoldered into one with Hermione's gaze. The man was bald, had a white beard, and dressed in shadowy robes of the medieval era. His hands were intertwined, as though deep in contemplation.
"S-Salazar…Slytherin…?!" she apprehensively yelped.
At that moment, the windows of the common room shattered simultaneously, and the water from the lake came rushing in. The fire was doused from existence, the furniture rocked and tumbled in the brisk torrents, and water flushed past Hermione's ankles. So heavily that she slipped backwards into the rush of the flood. The roaring sounds of rushing water was so loud that Hermione could hardly hear her own screams.
She desperately sloshed through the furious water and past the natant furniture; however the effort was futile. Her body began to rise. Soon Hermione was tugged down into the water that filled the common room―and fighting to hold her breath. The common room now submerged entirely in the emerald-illuminated flood, Hermione stared helplessly down at the late founder: Salazar's feet were still on the floor, and he seemed unfazed by the fact that he and Hermione were in water, like he was cemented to that very spot. Like he was one with the water…
His robes swayed and rolled like inky seaweed.
He stared up at the flailing Hermione, and when he spoke, his voice was as clear as it would've been on dry land and surrounded by oxygen.
"I'll be watching you, Muggle-born."