Disclaimer: I really like to make Rowling fuck with the laws of time, don't I? Take the facts from that statement, and use it logically. What is it saying? That's right; this means that I don't own Harry Potter.
Background information from Slytherin Introductions, okay.
Warnings: SLASH! (AKA homosexual couples. Both MM and FF so either deal and get over with it, or hit the lovely green back button.) HBP! gag Lemon Drops. ...insanity?
Hits head. Can't think of title, so it'll probably change.
What do you mean, NOT HUMAN?
Such blind trust they both had, and it proved such a mistake, to both of them.
Dumbledore, the fool, trusted Snape, the traitor, more than anything, and look where it got him. Six feet under in a fancy crystal box.
Himself, the naïve Gryffindor he was supposed to be, trusted the old fool with his life; he would have died for him. And look where it got him. Back in this horrid hellhole he'd been stuck in since a year and a half, and nowhere to go. Back in this place, where all was dark, all was numb, and there was nothing. No one had even attempted to make contact with him for a month, something he would have been glad about after Sirius's death, but now – it was so much less. It seemed as if they didn't care! Preposterous! But he knew that it was the truth. All had been deception. Six years of it, and it had all been revealed in Sirius's will that had finally been revealed after fifth year. Yet, he pretended that he didn't know. It would be so suspicious.
That was when the trust had been broken.
The pensieve he had been given had the memories of his dear godfather, ones that had been originally erased completely from his own mind, regained as dreams, and deposited in the pensieve immediately.
Ron and Hermione – training with Moody, though they were failing completely, and him stepping in the room.
Obliviate.
Watching as Harry's vault keys were given away, and him and Moony in a boiling rage. Destroying political power.
Obliviate.
Him walking in on the meeting – a screen stuck up on the wall. Images of a boy in a cupboard, bruised and beaten, all playing. Smiles. "All for his own good…"
Obliviate.
Him hearing Dumbledore speaking to Snape, and Snape walking out with glazed eyes. The Imperious Curse.
Obliviate.
That was all it took for him to decide that he had been living a lie. There was nothing he could do for Snape. Yes, he had a powerful mind, but Dumbledore wasn't the strongest wizard of the time – a title Harry planned on claiming for his own after the inheritance - for nothing, was he?
After that, he had worn a constant mask, one that he had practiced and kept up since he was young. Even his friends didn't know him as well as he thought. No one did. He had told Sirius, he told the man, and even Moony, Remus, parts of his past, but no one knew everything. The strong glamours and charms he had up almost constantly made sure of that, yes, and he had long since perfected the art of Occlumency, though they all thought he was terrible at it. The knowledge had been gained, gleaned, really, from Voldemort's mind during the rebirth. Now, they were almost siblings, in that they regarded each other as such, and that they were physically brothers, by blood. Along with the blood bond, they had the mind bond.
Voldemort had been so sick of having visions of his pitiful past being showed to him, he gave him lessons. His mind was now an almost impenetrable fort. All of the things Snape, and in turn, Dumbledore, had seen – all been decoys. Tom had taught him enough to survive and win a duel with the lesser Death Eaters, and had promised to teach him more, teach him to be powerful, when he announced neutrality. He doubted he would ever be allowed to, but now, after the death of Dumbledore, he could.
He might not agree with Voldemort's deeds or morals, but he knew they were kindred souls. How he regretted destroying the diary now, but, really, he was still the naïve, foolish Golden Boy then, full of unwavering, almost sickening, trust.
They were not allies, no, they fought on different sides of the war, but they had a connection, and Harry relied on the support his surrogate … brother?...gave him.
Maybe, now that Dumbledore was gone, he could announce neutrality and live in peace. Finally. Move to a different country, maybe.
But, no, he knew that he would never get peace.
But maybe he could find happiness.
Harry figured that Snape had finally broken the Imperious curse the night he killed the old fool. Though he knew that the man was under an Unbreakable Vow too, in order to protect his godson, Draco, he was still glad he had done it. Really, the man didn't seem so bad, then.
And the rest of the Slytherins, really, he didn't hate them. They'd been his friends since second year. Real friends. Friends he met on his own, without meddling headmasters. Honestly, the only reason he was practically stalking his Slytherin best friend was because he had been hurt, and in pain, and he was so frustrated that he could do nothing to help. Phst, Weasley and Granger thought he wanted revenge, or something insane like that. Really, what petty creature did they think he was? Delusional Gryffindors.
(1)
The silence of the walls he was stuck in, held captive in, and yet the walls were so thin, so weak. And he hated himself for not being able to get out of this place. Welts and lashes on his back, and even a few broken ribs, newly delivered.
He gave a bitter chuckle that gave any invisible onlookers a vision of déjà vu. It was filled with cynicism and utter disdain for the world. Cold.
Empty.
This was all there was now.
A fact he was very much acute to.
His mind was near broken, and he could have sworn he felt a ghost-like touch lightly flutter across his temple.
Ten minutes gone by, and he felt it again.
Go away! Leave me alone! Please…
His silent pleas broke off to an equally silent sob.
That was how he laid for hours, before the clock struck midnight, and he blacked out. Then he was gone.
When he awoke finally, he was laying in a large bed with lush silk sheets. He had not yet opened his eyes. Normally, anyone would have been shocked at this knowledge, but Harry was not, nor did he care.
He sensed several non-threatening presences in the room he was in, and again, the knowledge left him curious of his newly acquired talent.
"Where am I?" The question must have surprised them. Their young charge had not even opened his eyes!
"Why, Hogwarts, of course!" The voice was cheerful and warm, if not immature.
"No… it feels different…"
"Huh. Might that have something to do with the fact that it's probably a large measure of time younger? Yes, I imagine it would."
"Wait! What do you mean… time?" He finally decided to open his eyes and glare at the speaker, but was surprised to see four faces at the end of his bed.
The one on the middle and to the left, a kindly looking woman with curly blond hair and warm golden eyes, smiled and spoke. "Maybe I should introduce myself then we'll get into the story. My name is Helga Hufflepuff, and these are my colleagues, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin."
That was the last thing he heard before falling unconscious with a faint thud sound.
"D'you think he understood us?"
It was the face on the far right, who had his arm around Helga. He had vibrant red hair with dark blue eyes, and was named when Helga swatted the back of his head, and chided, "Godric!'
The one on the far left allowed an expression to slide on his face and smiled amusedly at his two fellow founders. His green eyes and black framed his happy face, though it could change into a vicious battle-hardened face within seconds. Meet Salazar Slytherin.
Rowena Ravenclaw was looking at the boy curiously with her light blue eyes. Her dark hair framed her face, and she absentmindedly tucked a lock behind her hair.
Salazar rolled his eyes at his distracted friends, and cast 'Enervate' on their charge, but frowned when he didn't do anything.
-POV change!-
Harry tensed slightly as he felt the spell wash over him. 'Enervate, right, that's what it was. Summon that wand; you know you can do it!' And so he did. Except for the smacking sound he heard in his palm. Much too strong for his likes.
"Why should I believe that you are the thousand-year dead founders of Hogwarts?"
-I really could be Voldemort… but I'm not.-
Harry jumped. It had been so long since he had talked with another Parselmouth.
-As if I'd care. The guy's practically my brother! So, if you're really Slytherin, what am I doing here?-
Salazar blinked. He wasn't expecting that, more of a blatant hate for his elder heir.
Godric nudged him in the side, as they had somehow shifted during the hissed conversation that irritated the others. Times like this, they really wished they had such a dark gift as Salazar. 'Course, Godric could have been just in a daze at the sound of the voice. Apparently, Parseltongue was one of his major turn-ons. Harry, somehow, picked up the stray thought and shuddered subconsciously. Huh. Another one of those weird things he was gaining.
"Oh. Oh, yeah, yeah. Well, I bet you're wondering why you're here?" Aloof words came out of Salazar Slytherin's mouth. Frankly, it made Harry want to hit him with something. Or throw a lemon drop at him. Come on, the man was acting in mannerisms much too similar to old Dumbles!
He was bemused when a bag of lemon drops appeared in his hand.
Shrugging, he opened the bag, took one out, and held it in front of his face, as if deciding whether to eat it, or to use it as arsenal. Figuring he could always eat the sugar filled goodnesses (though he much preferred chocolates…), he chose ammunition.
Imagine the shock of Salazar Slytherin when he got hit in the face by a sweet. In return, he glared at the boy in question, who merely took a hyper inducing sugary substance out of its wrapped, popped it into his mouth, and attempted to whistle around it. Needless to say, he came close to spitting the thing out. Shame, really.
Rowena took pit on them, and began explaining calmly.
"We placed an enchantment on our bloodlines, and should they all be combined into one person, said person would be brought here for special… training and such."
"Somehow, there's more to the explanation than you're telling me." He wasn't angry. Not one bit. Nor was he being rude. Nuh uh.
"Oh, be patient! No one said that my explanation was finished, idiot boy!"
Harry opened his mouth to protest in indignation, but forgot about the large sweet he was still sucking on. In response to the stimuli (I learned something from Science! Does a little dance.) the lemon drop fell onto the sheets.
"Now the sheets are sticky… and my lemon drop is fuzzy!" he pouted like a five year old boy. Well, in essence, he could have been. But he was carefully ignoring that.
Helga rolled her eyes. Insanity came with power, didn't it? She waved her hand and the lemon drop unattached itself from the sheet and the sheet cleaned. Harry smiled gleefully.
Rowena coughed. This wasn't the point!
"Where was I before I was interrupted? Oh, yes, I was telling you why you are here. You are here so we can make sure you are worthy of this gift, this honor, this… power. Now, you might think you are a little insane now, but, no, this is just a little touch of what's to come if you aren't mentally strong enough to do this. Got it?" Seeing Harry's nod, she continued. "On a much brighter note, I'd like to congratulate you on making it to your inheritance. You are the heir of the founders. Good job."
Helga took up there, right after kissing Rowena to shut her up. Harry thought the woman was oddly reminiscent of Her-no! Nonononono! He wouldn't think of her again! Well. The woman reminded him of what he thought his mother was like when she would lecture the Marauders.
"Rowena and I are your ancestors on your father's side, and Godric and Salazar are from your mother's. But there's more."
Glaring at the others, Salazar prodded his wand and said a firm 'silencio' that shut the others up. Maybe now they could get this conversation over with. Merlin, this was taking forever!
"As Helga said, there's more. We think that, somehow, the blood on your mother's side got a little… mixed up." At Harry's blank look, his left eyebrow started twitching. "What I mean is… you're not exactly… human."
"WHAT!"
Author's Notes in regards to the chapter:
1 - Right, I know that a lot of this contradicts with stuff from HBP, but, I'm still studiously ignoring those parts. The plot was horrible. There are just a lot of places that could have been possible slash. Sighs. Why can't she see? Well, other than the fact that she'd probably get sued out of her ass if she published a book about Harry and Draco making a spectacle of the school with all the foolish prejudice.
Okay, this is a new fic that coincides with other fic of mine, Slytherin Introductions, though it isn't necessary to read that one. It's just a fun little change of scenes given to us in the books in favor of the Slytherins.
I know that a lot of these ideas aren't mine. Probably horribly clichéd. But I took a lot of my favorite ideas and combined them into one.
Review and tell me how horrible/wonderful/boring/funny/...insert own adjective... it is!
Cher-nessssnesssss