The Lion and the Snake

If Harry slept peacefully through the night, his awakening was brutal. He sat on his bed with a frantic breath, wide eyes, and a brain working at full speed.

Why had Voldemort tried to kill him when he was a baby? His parents had died defending him, meaning he had been the real target. How come he had never asked himself this question before?!

He pushed his blanket away and breathed deeply. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together. According to what Helga had told him, he possessed a power that Voldemort didn't. A power that could defeat him. Could it be that Voldemort had been aware of this before his birth and had tried to kill him because of this?

'Come on, love a power great enough to defeat the darkest mage ever?' Said the voice in his head. 'Your parents loved you, it didn't stop them from getting killed…'

Ok, maybe it wasn't love and Helga had gotten it wrong. But still, there was something about him that threatened Voldemort's power.

He stood up and got dressed. It was so early in the morning that it was still dark outside, but Harry didn't care. He needed to think and wouldn't be able to do so surrounded by his snoring classmates. His steps led him to the seventh floor like an automatism and he stood in front of the wall on which the door leading to the Room of Requirements would normally appear. But this time, he didn't want to go to the Founders. He wanted a place to think alone. A place where he wouldn't be found. When he pushed the door that had materialized in front of him, he stepped into the most gigantic room he had ever seen in his life.

It was the size of a cathedral with high windows that were letting a strange soft gleam which was lighting up towers of objects. Harry was mesmerized by the variety of things which were hidden here. There was a pile of old notebooks in front of him near which stood an antique model representing the solar system. A dust-covered display case contained indistinguishable artefacts. He wandered in the room until he found an old wooden chair on which was laying a discoloured old tiara. He picked it up delicately and sat on the chair.

While turned the jewel in his hands he tried to order his thoughts.

Voldemort had tried to kill him to prevent his power to be threatened. That meant he had been aware of what he represented before his birth. Could he have predicted it? How? The Founders method could only give a general knowledge of the future. It wasn't precise enough to say that a specific person would constitute a menace to someone else. Maybe a Seer had made a prediction about Voldemort and had warned him.

Harry scoffed lightly but a memory came back to him. He had already witnessed a true prediction from a Seer who was none other than Sybil Trelawney. It had happened in his third year when she had foreseen the escape of Peter Pettigrew.

He sighed. He had a hard time believing it, but it was all adding up and he felt dumb for, at least, not having questioned the security system that had been deployed around him since Voldemort's return.

The Order of the Phoenix…

Harry straightened up. He had been protected like never before during the past few months. Also, his parents had been hidden. Voldemort hadn't been the only one to know. The realisation felt like he had received a Bludger with full force. Dumbledore knew!

He felt indignation and rage overcome him. He stood up, throwing the old tiara on the pile of notebooks on the way and stormed out of the Room of Requirements. Dumbledore had told him in his first year that he feared Voldemort would find a way, one day, to come back. He had been kept safe all his life for the sole purpose of defeating him in case of this eventuality. He was furious and almost ran through the corridors in the direction of the Gargoyle leading to the Headmaster's office.

But as he was climbing down the stairs, he heard Ron calling him. Since when Ron was an early riser?

'Oi Harry!'

He watched his best firend run towards him and noticed his tense grin.

'You couldn't sleep either?' He said as he arrived near Harry.

'Huh… Yeah,' replied Harry still surprised.

Ron looked him up and down and his face took on a surprised look.

'What… You forgot?' Asked Ron bewildered.

That's when Harry noticed that Ron was wearing the red and gold Gryffindor robe as well as his Quidditch gear. They were facing Slytherin today! And, indeed, Harry had completely forgotten about it.

'Huh… No I didn't…' He muttered. 'It's just that… Ok give me a minute.'

Ron nodded and watched his best friend disappear behind the Fat Lady portrait. Hermione had been right, something was definitely wrong with Harry. But now wasn't the time to think about it.

Harry felt the Snitch flutter madly in his hand and he watched, in disbelief, Umbridge ban him from his Quidditch team along with Fred and Georges. They had just won against Slytherin, and Malfoy had ruined their victory by violently insulting their mothers, among other things. When he had come to his senses, Malfoy was in a pitiful state and McGonagall had taken them in her office to punish them.

It was already hard to have made one of his favorite and most respected Professor at Hogwarts ashamed of him, but Umbridge's intervention had been worse than anything. When the sentence fell, he felt his soul leave his body for a few seconds. What?!

He couldn't be banned from playing Quidditch! And she was taking his Firebolt in her office too!?

He had made huge progress with the Founders and, for a moment, he thought about using his new powers to crush this giant toad of a woman. He imagined her silky smile being turned into a grimace of pain as he would have made her suffer a thousand torments. Pure hate was flowing through his veins.

When Umbridge left the office in a horrified silence, Harry thought he had become blind and deaf. This was too much. Quidditch was the last fun thing he had. Flying on his broom was the only way he could forget his problems. Up there no one could beat him. Up there he was free. If McGonagall told him something, he didn't hear it. He walked out the office without waiting for the twins. His feeling of injustice was unbearable.

He ignored everyone in Gryffindor's common room and headed towards the bathroom. He didn't want anyone to bother him. The cold water helped him to calm down and he decided to go see Salazar and skip lunch.

Salazar hadn't expected to see the young Mr. Potter so early. But when he saw his face, he knew something was wrong. And that annoyed him. Not that he cared about Harry's life, but a troubled apprentice couldn't be efficient in his training.

'Good afternoon, Mr. Potter,' he said out of pure politeness. 'You're a bit early today.'

'Did you know that Voldemort was your Heir?' Asked Harry bluntly without greeting the Founder.

Salazar smiled and considered Harry in silence. It was about time!

'Yes, I did,' he replied. 'Although I would ask you to keep this between us, please.'

'You never told them!' Exclaimed Harry. 'But how come they didn't predict it and you did?'

'I have my own method,' Salazar said calmly. He paused, pondering if he should tell everything to the boy.

'Were you proud to discover that you created a monster that almost destroyed the school you vowed to protect?' Asked Harry with an acid tone. Salazar looked at him, puzzled. 'Oh, come on, I know about the Chamber of Secret. I know about the Basilisk for I killed it myself.'

'I know you did,' replied casually Salazar. 'With nothing less than the Sword of Godric, congratulations.'

Harry was about to reply when a detail alerted him.

'Wait… How come you still went on with the idea of the Chamber of Secret if you had predicted its failure?'

'Not bad for a Gryffindor,' smiled Salazar. 'I never said I had predicted anything though. There are other ways than spirit guardians to walk among the living after death. I chose to leave a memory behind me.'

The words weren't foreign to Harry who was transported in his second year for a brief instant.

'Are you the same kind of memory as the one Tom Riddle left?'

'The principle is the same,' nodded Salazar. 'The details, however, differ.'

'To be honest, I am starting to be sick of riddles,' said Harry aggressively. 'You are training me to defend Hogwarts against a threat that I've come to realise you barely know. So, whether you have something useful to tell me or I'll consider that we're done. It might be a game for you, but for me it's my life!'

The cub was showing his fangs. Salazar Slytherin wasn't one to give away clues easily, but it wasn't like Harry hadn't deserved them anyway. Between the fight he had put up in the Chamber and the progress he had made over the past week, the boy had earned the right to know.

'Very well,' said the Founder, 'I'll offer you a bargain. I'll tell you what you want to know, but in exchange don't give up on the school.'

Harry looked at him suspiciously. Was it a trap? Could he really trust a Slytherin? It's not like he had a choice anyway since no one else was willing to give him any clue about what was going on.

'All right,' he said while sitting on the desk. 'We have a deal.'