Sorry for the lack of beta'ing the past few chapters – I've had some e-mail problems and couldn't get it sent out, and I keep changing these chapters!.

So farover 50have said they were Slytherin – no surprise there. I would imagine the Slytherin type personality would be the kind of person who would be reading a manipulative Dumbledore fanfic! Thanks to jabarber69 for sending me a link to a 'what house are you' quiz. It said I was a Ravenclaw – who knew?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 24

Hermione

Salazar inspected his student's parchment. She was obsessive when it came to facts, he decided. He simply asked for a paragraph or two on what she knew of sword fighting and wizards, and the next day she brought him a good 7 feet of everything she could glean from the library on the subject.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" he smirked at her.

With a yawn she nodded that she had, but as to how much sleep, Salazar probably didn't want to know.

"I think with you I'm going to start with the less academic subjects – see if we can loosen you up a bit." The wizard conjured a thin, flexible sword out of the air and placed it on the table in front of Hermione. "Let's start with this…"

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Salazar Slytherin had taught many heirs over the past thousand years. But Hermione was quickly growing into one of his favorites. At first he was afraid she would be too stuffy and bookish, but she had the hunger for knowledge his wife Rowena possessed tempered with his own thirst for justice and seeing a story through. Although she would pretend not to, she had a deep-seated love of working in the background to get a goal accomplished. OK – she loved manipulation, just like he did.

Hermione was a quick study with the sword and magical dueling. She had grace and balance, and was a natural with a blade. She had an intellect that gave her the ability to recall dozens of spells for any situation, and the cleverness to choose the right one every time.

Wandless magic was apparently a huge challenge to Hermione, although Salazar was suspicious that she spent quite a few late nights practicing when she should have been sleeping. Surprisingly, however, she had a real talent for soundless spell casting. He was training up one powerful witch, despite her lack of wandless talent.

He was delighted how Hermione took to two wand dueling. Not many witches seemed to have an aptitude for dueling in general, and to find one that could handle two wands at once was a joy. At first he was caught off guard by the strangeness of her second wand that could split a spell without command, but they quickly developed a style of fighting that used it to perfection. Salazar pitied the boy that tried to take advantage of a daughter of hers in the future.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o

Salazar was grilling Hermione one warm morning while they strolled the grounds near the lake.

"Your parents do not know of any magical people in your ancestry?" he asked in disbelief. "It's just very unusual for a witch of your power to be muggle born. Muggle born witches and wizards are common, but one of your talents, no.

"Salazar," Hermione spoke slowly and chose her words carefully, "is there any truth in the stories that you wanted to kill all muggle born magical folk?"

He stopped at the edge of the lake and gestured for her to sit with him. With a dark look in his eyes he finally spoke. "Hermione, I never wanted to kill off anyone. I did, however, strongly advocate training the muggle born in a different school for their first year. It was not prejudice – it was a matter of safety for both them and us. Until recent history muggles tended to persecute wizards – it was very difficult at times to keep the wizarding world and Hogwarts a secret. The muggle born, as you are well aware, have a lot of catching up to do when they discover our world. A year away would keep them from the Malfoys of your time, start their training and teach them the background and history they need to fit in better. Also, there are a large number of muggle born wizards and witches who decide they don't want to live in our world – I felt it would be better to have them in a different location until they make up their minds. Again, it was a security issue, for their safety and ours."

She nodded in agreement, recalling the difficulties people like Harry had when they discovered they were wizards mere weeks before school started. "How did you get used as the justification of racial cleansing then?"

"How does the teachings of Jesus line up with so many of the wars done in the 'name' of Christianity over the centuries?" Salazar challenged his student. "I don't see anywhere in the New Testament that promotes bloodshed – rather I see 'love your neighbor' in it. Kings and rulers have always found an excuse to give license to their greed – the more famous that excuse, the easier it is to sell it to the masses. It doesn't matter if they correctly quote or represent a celebrity – it only matters that they can twist and use it for their own purposes."

Hermione frowned, thinking about what he was saying. "What about the Chamber of Secrets – what was that about?"

Salazar snorted in derision as he leaned back on his elbows, watching a hawk flying over the lake. "Why do you think I built the Chamber of Secrets? How many bathrooms do you see in Hogwarts currently?"

Hermione gaped at him. "Oh my – why didn't I figure that out? Without plumbing, how would you have made the entrance? But who built it then?"

The founder sat up, cross-legged and looked at her with a sad smile. "Whom do you think?"

"Riddle?" she gasped. "Could he have been that powerful as a student?"

"Yes and no" Salazar smirked with an air of melancholy. "The chamber was there all ready, but with another entrance. He discovered the room while exploring – he was always skulking around for secrets. It was just a large empty room under the castle, and nothing more. Riddle added the décor and the basilisk, which he had obtained as an egg and raised down there. Being an heir to a founder, which sadly is true, he discovered quickly he could communicate with Hogwarts and had her create the unique entrance from the bathroom, and seal up the old one. Hogwarts soon after realized he wasn't a nice person and stopped communicating with him. Lady Hogwarts told us what she had created with Riddle, and we decided to leave it as-is – the basilisk could not escape and we didn't have the means to kill it. We were not aware of the journal he had created."

He stood up and brushed some grass off his robes. "All right, my student, today we are going to start working on your metamorphmagus form. As an animagus form is rare, metamorphmagus forms are even rarer."

"How do you know I am one?" Hermione asked, standing beside him. "I thought a metamorphmagus was someone who could change their appearance without spells."

"Hrumph" the wizard snorted. "Your wand was the first hint. Yes, changing one's look is one kind; another kind is a witch or wizard who can change back and forth between certain magical beings. In your case, a mermaid."

They had reached the edge of the lake. Hermione had to fight a sudden impulse to throw herself in to escape the madness. A mermaid? Her? She had seen them during the forth year Tri-Wizard Tournament. They were not exactly the pretty creatures of muggle fairy tales. But that would explain the strange wand that fit her so perfectly.

"All right then – the first couple of times you will probably need your wand. After a few transformations it will feel 'natural' and you will need to only 'think it'." Salazar drew his wand and demonstrated the spell on him self and Hermione was surprised to see him transform into a merman and change back. "You will want to do it right by the water's edge – merfolk do not breath out of water. Once you transform, swim over that direction" and he gestured due east, "and through a stone arch. You must swim through that arch. Spend long enough with the people of the lake to learn their language, ways, and skills." He watched her transform, gave the briefest look of longing in his eyes at the still lake, and headed back to the castle alone.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Hermione spent the next few months with the Merpeople, only visiting Hogwarts on occasion when homesickness for Harry and her friends got too much. She had no idea where the mermaid in her blood came from, but it was surprising to learn how powerfully she had denied her attraction to the water all her life. It was most likely that she wasn't related to the waterfolk in any sense – just spiritually as she was with Salazar.

Merfolk or Merpeople were deep, and not just in the water. They were deep thinkers, but extremely trusting – almost childlike. Their magic was the magic of element, and besides a natural communication with water creatures, they could command the very water itself to be a powerful weapon. They had a culture that spanned centuries beyond that of man or wizard, and were proud, powerful, and talented.

The pride of the merfolk, however, wasn't arrogant like the centaur. They loved their lake, loved the art they created with their hands, and loved their people. War or aggression with other beings had occurred very few times in their history – Wizard, goblin and elf alike seemed to ignore the people of the lake, and they were more than happy to return the favor.

The merfolk did not talk or make any sounds at all. They communicated telepathically, which took a little getting use to. To speak with the Merpeople, you had to learn to first shield your private thoughts from everyone, then how to direct your speech to individuals or more. Many 'words' were actually pictures sent through the mind – names in particular. For example, a mermaid would not name her baby 'John', but think of the pretty quartz bolder that sits in the silt bed at the northern mouth of the lake – that image would be her son's name.

Hermione was taking an art lesson with a couple of mermaids one day. The water was cool, and a school of fresh water eels were gently wrapping themselves around her upper arms and waist while she attached bits of glass and shell to a wall mosaic with her teachers. Hermione had developed an affinity with the eels – it seems once she had been 'officially' declared Slytherin's heir, she had been gifted instantly with parseltoungue. Eels were close enough to the land snakes that she was able to communicate telepathically with them in the snake language. And although Hermione did not care for snakes, for some reason she liked the eels.

The three were working on a mural of Hogwarts in the King's throne room. Mosaics for the merfolk were not the flat art form of the human, typically made with geometric squares of glass. The merfolk delighted in finding refuse from the land peoples, interesting stones, shells, bones, or anything that caught their eyes, and would create art that had more dimension than its land-based equivalent. The components of the pictures were attached with magic, and magically preserved. Stucco, cement or glue tends not to work well under water.

She was humming to herself while working. Hermione couldn't make sound anymore – the merfolk only communicated in the mind – but she was happily recalling a soft rock song and really getting into the piano part.

"What is that!" her teacher gasped in her head with amazement.

Hermione looked at her teacher surprised at the reaction. Without vocal cords or spoken language, music was evidently unknown in the water realms. Her art teacher, an elderly mermaid with a 'pictorial name' that showed the graceful water plants that grow at the western edge of the lake (Hermione called her Kelpie), was trembling. "It is merely a song, my teacher. Have I offended you?" she sent to Kelpie's mind.

"Please! Do it some more! What are the sounds that go with that voice?" Kelpie swam next to Hermione, and grasped her hand, gazing into the witch's brown eyes. The other mermaid, (pictorial name showing the smooth river rocks from the distant river – Hermione called her Stoney), came close too and asked to share.

With a smile, Hermione recalled the song again. Kelpie and Stoney 'called' for their friends, and more joined. She started to recall all kinds of songs for the Merfolk – classical, rock, folk, muggle and wizard alike. The only song she avoided at all costs was the Hogwarts anthem (everyone would sing it to whatever tune they chose – all at the same time). She concentrated on the many instruments she could recall, individual voices, varied styles. Hermione didn't know it then, but she was changing the creative essence of the Merpeople for all time.

O0o0o0o0o0o

Hermione could sense that her time with the Merfolk was coming to an end. The months had flown by, and she had fallen in love with every one of the kind, gentle people of the water.

With hugs good-bye and sad, sweet words of parting, she slowly swam through the stone arch. The arch, she had learned, was actually a portal into the real past at the time of the founders – which explained the longing look Salazar had given the lake. She had been forbidden to even poke her head out of the water without swimming through the arch first, to enter the dimension of the founder's painting. The painting did not have the power to sustain a school of Merpeople, so the arch allowed her to travel through time and space and stay in the real lake with the real merfolk at the time of the founders.

Hermione knew that Dumbledore spoke the merfolk tongue, but she had no idea what kind of relationship he had with the present day Merpeople of Hogwarts. She could imagine it was a rather one-sided one, and that he had not been totally honest with them. She had worked hard on her language skills so she could forge a strong relationship with the Merpeople when she returned.

O0o0o0o0o0o

Back at the castle Hermione pondered the grass snake curled up in the patch of sunlight on the classroom floor. "How long will she stay?" she asked her teacher.

Salazar walked over to the olive colored snake, gently picked it up and allowed it to wrap around his neck for the warmth. "The serpentsoria spell creates a snake of the caster's choosing – its duration depends upon the strength of the witch or wizard and their concentration during casting. Naturally it can be canceled with a 'nox' spell. Now – can you guess why you created a grass snake? Why not, say, a basilisk?"

Hermione shuddered. "I was thinking that grass snakes look sort of friendly, and was hoping for something like that when I cast the spell. So I can cast any snake I choose?"

He nodded and waved his hand over the snake, which disappeared. "Create an African bush viper for me."

With a gulp she concentrated, picturing firmly in her mind the bright green poisonous snake he requested. With a wave of her wand, she conjured the requested reptile soundlessly. It was beautiful, as snakes go, but Hermione definitely had a bit of a problem with the creatures. She remained on the other side of the room from it, and didn't engage it in conversation.

"Couldn't we just study more logic, or defense?" she asked her teacher hopefully.

"I think this could come in very handy in battle" Salazar smirked. "Buck up and get over your squeamishness – imagine what Riddle would do if faced with a basilisk under your command?"

She took a deep calming breath. "OK – let's perfect this."

O0o0o0o0o0o

"We are going to start your animagus training today, Miss Granger" Salazar informed the bushy-haired witch as she entered the classroom in the dungeon. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, with an air of expectant amusement playing around his lips and eyes.

"Where do I start?" Hermione already had quill and parchment at the ready.

"Well, thanks to my wife's star pupil, we already know what your form will be. It seems that those with fairy ancestry can see that. Shall we play a guessing game like Helga forced poor Mr. Longbottom into?" Salazar had the most marvelous smirk when he chose to.

"Um, how about a hint or two" Hermione asked, feeling suddenly afraid of what form she might take. She didn't like the amusement radiating off of her teacher.

"Right – how about the two basic rules of animagus. First, they will be a creature from your native land, England for you, and second, no magical creatures. That only happens in novels. Bad ones at that." Salazar's eyes sparkled with challenge. He loved to see just how far he could push his student. She never disappointed him in growing girlishly frustrated, and then coming through with flying colors.

"I hope it's nothing that flies" she practically whispered.

"You are safe there" her teacher answered, examining his cuticles and trying not to laugh.

"Is it something cute?" she looked at him hopefully.

"I think so" Salazar smiled most dangerously.

"Oh, I am so dead. I'm not going to like this, am I?" Hermione's face lost all color as he shook his head in agreement.

O0o0o0o0o0o

Harry was a man very in tune with his wife-to-be. The link between their minds was very firm and communication with the woman he loved happened with only the lightest of thoughts. The past several months had been difficult with her away with the Merpeople of the lake – he had missed her deeply. So when an hour into the morning classes he felt her scream, he felt down to his very toes. Without a word to Godric, he leapt to his feet and ran out the door down to the dungeons where Salazar held his teachings.

"Hermione! What is it? Are you ok? I'm coming!" Harry sent out words of comfort and love and he raced down the stairs. He thought he heard Godric snicker behind him, but didn't give it any mind, consumed with worry for his lady.

"Yes, no, oh ICK!" Hermione was wailing, and Harry was comforted to sense she wasn't in danger at least.

He burst through the door to see Salazar rolling with glee on a tabletop, crying and pounding the wooden surface with hilarity. On the floor of the dank room was a three-foot long poisonous adder snake – the only native poisonous snake of Britain. He looked over at Salazar and turned to Godric, who was laughing too.

"Hermione?" He asked the snake in parseltoungue.

The snake curled up and hid its face in its own coils, obviously embarrassed. "Don't look at me" she wailed telepathically "I'm horrid! I'm afraid of myself!"

Harry gently scooped up his reptilian fiancé and examined her closely. She had sleek gray/brown scales with a deep brown pattern on her back, and glittering yellow eyes. Hermione, you are beautiful!" he crooned. "Your animagus is so cool!" He hissed soothingly to her in parseltoungue, stroking her cool, sleek body and admiring her from every angle.

"Please put me down, Harry. I can't have a proper cry as a-a-a SNAKE!"

He complied and set her gently down, and Hermione instantly transformed back to human, and threw herself into his arms, bawling loudly. Trying not to laugh, which was very difficult when the two founders in the room were howling and thumping each other on their backs, he held her comfortingly.

"You have my permission to bite them if you like." He whispered in her ear. "We've covered snake anti-venoms in potions class already."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks to Sissyspacedout for her ideas for this chapter!