Chapter Nine
oooP1ooo
(Harry)
"What did you do?" demanded one of the twins.
Salazar ignored them as he knelt over Neville. The boy was unconscious and trembling. Salazar reached out and pressed a hand to the boy's chest. He pressed his other hand to Neville's forehead and concentrated. The little Gryffindor's magic was fluctuating. His thoughts were racing and splintering.
What was happening?
A hand yanked him back by the collar. Salazar fell onto his butt and found his legs entangled in blankets. He glared up through his askew glasses and found a redhead glaring down at him, wand pointed at his forehead. The other twin stepped between him and Neville. Fire seemed to glow in their eyes. They reminded him so much of Godric in that moment.
"What. Did. You. Do. To. Him?" demanded the more vocal of the two twins, the one Salazar was almost certain was Fred. He was also the one with his wand in Salazar face, holding the founder by the collar.
Salazar clenched his jaw in frustration and forced himself to take a deep breath to calm his nerves. The children didn't know what they were doing.
"Nothing," Salazar answered, "Now move."
The twins clearly didn't believe him. Their hard expressions didn't change and drawn wands stayed pointed steadily at his face. Neither of them twitched from their protective position.
"I didn't do anything," he insisted as frustration slipped into his voice, "I sswear it."
"Now wha' yeh doin'?" demanded a new voice, an adult's voice. A very large man appeared behind the Weasley twins and checked over Neville.
"He did something to Neville, Hagrid!" insisted, possibly, George.
Hagrid scooped Neville up with a firm, "Come on, ter the Hospital win'. The Headmaster'll hear 'bout this."
Salazar was yanked up to his feet by Fred. Both twins grasped under his arm and half carried, half dragged him after the lumbering, giant of a man. A feeling of concern and questioning filtered across his bond with Hogwarts before an image of Mipsy flashed through his mind. The House elf would clean up their mess. Which, honestly, wasn't exactly a priority at the moment.
Salazar wondered if Hogwarts's response to him being assaulted would always be to clean up the mess left behind. At least she'd stay clean, he guessed...Maybe it would extend to any bodies he needed removed. Not that he was planning on murdering anyone but it's just not something usually planned.
A few students startled at their procession. Salazar watched two children bolt ahead through the courtyard. Most just stood there whispering. He could imagine their mutters—The Daily Prophet was right, Harry Potter is a dark lord in the making!
"I can walk." Salazar finally snapped. A shudder rocked through the two redheads and Salazar was dropped. He tugged his robe straight with a glare at the Weasley twins before he allowed them to stalk on either of his sides as they followed Hagrid.
The walk cooled the two redheads' anger and George sent him uncertain glances while Fred avoided looking at him, clenching at his wand in a white knuckled grip the entire time. Salazar was too irritated and concerned for Neville to care to dissect the interplay and guess at what was going on in the two's heads but embarrassment didn't quite fit.
Professor McGonagall met them just outside the Great Hall. She stared judgingly over her glasses at them. (She did it very well. Salazar wondered if he could learn to do that with his own. He probably needed non-circular glasses first.—And height.) Her gaze swept over to the giant man. "Hagrid?"
"The Weasley boys were pointin' their wands at Harry and said he did somethin' ter this little guy." Hagrid explained as she fell into step with them. Students dodged out of the way as they headed to the stairwell. "Takin' him ter the hospital win' for a check up and them ter the headmaster."
Hogwarts helpfully moved one of her staircases to the ground for them. Startled students sprang down or up the staircase to get out of Hagrid's way. The giant of the man seemed too set on his destination to notice the much smaller children. No one appeared to notice or care that the staircase should not have moved when it had.
"No need to involve Albus. I'll take these three to my office. Have Poppy inform me of the results on Mr. Longbottom."
"O'course," Hagrid agreed before they separated at the foyer of the first level. The giant of a man stomped across the hall to double doors with a gold plaque pronouncing it the Hospital Wing.
The deputy headmistress led them to her office on the same floor, just past the small study area and her classroom. Salazar's gaze swept over bookshelves and paintings of transfigured objects changing back and forth, and a desk at the center of the room with a stack of parchment set in the middle. His gaze snapped back to the professor as she spoke.
"Explain. Mr. Weasleys first," she snapped in her rolling Scottish brogue. The door snapped shut, emphasising her sharp words.
Salazar clenched his jaw in annoyance. Was he supposed to just stand there as they spouted nonsense. Salazar glanced over at the boys and found them staring at him with uncertain expressions.
"Well?" Professor McGongall pressed as she sat behind her desk, leaving the three boys standing before her.
The one Salazar had dubbed Fred finally spoke, "We all had a nap outside. Or, we were supposed to be napping...George and I woke up to Neville and Potter talking..."
"It devolved into an argument." George took over as Fred's voice faded out. "Then...Neville collapsed."
"He did–"
George shuffled about and stepped onto his brother's foot.
Fred made a face before he continued, "something to make Neville collapse."
Salazar stared. His gaze shifted to the professor. Her expression was as incredulous as he felt. The child had really done that. He had bluntly interrupted his brother by stepping on him in front of an adult.
"What did Mr. Potter do?" asked McGonagall, voice turned sharp, "No mincing words."
Salazar watched as the two shared a long look. Fred frowned but finally shrugged. "They clasped arms. Then Neville collapsed."
McGonagall made a noise in the back of her throat before she asked with exasperation. "What was the argument about?"
The twins shifted and bumped their shoulders together. Another shared look passed between the two. This time George explained, "It's personal to Neville."
The woman raised a brow. "I see...Why were you taking a nap outside at this time of day?"
George nodded at Salazar. "He announced that he was going to and invited Neville. We butted in. Neville doesn't know much about protecting himself, you see. So we made sure to join."
"And for good reason." muttered Fred.
McGonagall turned to Salazar in exasperation and asked, "Anything to add? Why the nap?"
"Neville clearly needed the sleep. He didn't complain," Salazar explained before he paused and looked over at the twins. The redheads stared intently back, half expectant and half questioning. Salazar couldn't guess what they were expecting except nothing good. People didn't seem to care for his school house.
Salazar turned back to McGonagall and answered her first question, "And they are mostly correct except I didn't do anything to cause him to collapse. I...I am..." Salazar paused, cutting off his words as he considered the adult. Instead of going into more detail he simply said, "I don't know."
She pressed her lips together as she looked between the three. The professor knew they weren't explaining things properly. It was a question of what she thought two Gryffindors and a Slytherin were working together to hide.—He wasn't entirely certain he knew what all he was helping hide.
A ping interrupted any potential decision on her part. Salazar turned towards the sound and blinked. Partly hidden behind a bookshelf was a fireplace. It had a burning, green, fire-formed face floating just above the logs.
McGonagall swept past and knelt before the fireplace. "Poppy, how is Mr. Longbottom?" asked McGonagall.
The face shifted as if speaking and a voice came out of the fireplace, "Mr. Longbottom is stressed, exhausted, and on the verge…." Her voice faded so they couldn't hear before she spoke up again, "...I've given him some dreamless sleep and I expect I'll keep him for a few days."
"No spells or curses found?"
Poppy shook her fiery head. "None."
"Thank you Poppy," McGonagall said.
Poppy nodded back and then poofed away, leaving a normal fire burning in the fireplace.
The professor rose and flicked her wand out to dust off and straighten her robes. She turned to them and huffed out, "You heard that gentlemen. Mr. Potter didn't do anything to Mr. Longbottom." She gave the twins a sharp look. "Consider this a warning. Do not draw a wand on another student again. Mr. Potter's inter-house activities are supported by all of us faculty, particularly the headmaster. I don't want to see any more nonsense because he's a Slytherin befriending a Gryffindor. Understood?"
The twins shifted around, George once more stepped on his brother's foot to stop some impulsive response, and the two gave short nods as they parroted, "Yes Ma'am."
She nodded back. "You're all dismissed. Perhaps you have a class to make?" She gave a pointed look at Fred and George before she collected some paperwork and herded them out of her office.
The twins made twin expressions of disgust at the sharp recommendation but headed out with all the appearance of obeying. Salazar glanced at his watch but paused as a hand settled onto his shoulder.
"You've class with me, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall side as she looked down at him with a raised brow, "Do keep up."
Salazar flashed a smile back at her. "Might I help carry your things, then?"
Amusement cut through the lingering hard expression on the older woman's face. "Certainly."
oooP2ooo
Salazar had never been to the hospital wing. It was surprisingly nice with multiple tools he itched to investigate. But he wasn't here to investigate modern healing, at least not in a general sense.
"Can I help you?"
Salazar turned from his slow perusal of the row of beds and tools. He was only steps from the one curtained off area in the large room. Neville had to be within. "No, ma'am. Just here to check in on Neville."
The matron, a Poppy something or other, raised a white brow at him. Her face was familiar. He hadn't expected to recognize her through the flames. "Mr. Longbottom is sleeping at the moment. He'll be released in a few days."
"I'm glad to hear that. Thank you healer...eh…" Salazar flashed a sheepish smile as he didn't have a name to say. He doubted Poppy was her surname.
In this case the matron straightened in a pleased sort of manner. It wasn't what Salazar had been shooting for but he wasn't complaining. "I'm not a healer, dear. Sweet of you to think that though. I'm a mediwitch and you may call me Madame Pomfrey."
Salazar hummed in interest even as concern rose at the back of his mind. That gave him no confidence that she had taken care of Neville properly.
"What's the difference between a healer and mediwitch?" he asked.
"I'm a specialized nurse. I've more training than a nurse but only within a specialized area. In this case, I specialized in pediatrics and have a minor specialization in spell accidents. It's exactly what a school such as Hogwarts requires. Of course, if there is a true emergency, I've access to St. Mungo's with both a portkey and the floo in my office...Now, if you've nothing to have checked over, you best be off to your next class."
Salazar nodded and gave a short goodbye.
Hogwarts had a large number of students, even if was not quite the number they had originally imagined at this point in time. And it had one, partly trained, healer on staff?
He didn't care if it was his paranoia speaking. The school should have at least two. That way there was always one available, no matter the time of day. He'd prefer that one, at least, was a fully trained healer.
oooP3ooo
That very night found Salazar traversing up from the dungeon level to the first floor(1). He wore his pendant but Salazar hadn't tested its capabilities against other magicals so he hugged the shadows and moved slowly to avoid catching anyone's eyes. Hogwarts helped him avoid any prefects, teachers, or Filch haunting the darkened halls.
Once he reached the Hospital Wing, Salazar placed a rune matrix onto its double doors. The runic array would negate any 'sound' from being made, including any alert enchantment that informed Madame Pomfrey when someone entered her domain.
It was eerie within the wing. The curtains grouped at the ends of the beds stretched long shadows that could be menacing if one wasn't entirely awake. Salazar slowly passed between the two rows, gaze sweeping over the room as he took in all the details he hadn't earlier.
Sterile was the best description. Salazar imagined it was similar to muggle hospitals in that regard. It wasn't like Evander's space. Rowena's husband, the first healer of Hogwarts, had had a more earthy study. It had smelt of all kinds of herbs and had a single bed in the corner. There had rarely been a reason to hold a child over night away from their own beds.
Evander's domain had always reminded Salazar of Helga's kitchen and Master Hardwin's home. It had been an excellent place to relax and meditate in—which had led to Evander forcing Salazar to aid in diagnosing and caring for the more difficult children.
Salazar paused as he found himself before the curtained off bed. A heavy sigh escaped as he realized he had traversed most of the room without consciously seeing it. The eleven year old pushed the curtain back. Memories would come and go. Only time would help him move past them.
Neville laid perfectly still in the center of a large bed. Salazar climbed up onto the bed, not bothering to be all that careful. The bed was large for an eleven year old and Neville didn't stir. Attached to the end of the bed was a clipboard with notes. As he expected, the blond was drugged to the gills with some form of sleep potion.—Dreamless sleep; it's name implied that it affected the natural rhythms of the mind. It could hide symptoms from Salazar.
He was no healer, not in the conventional sense at least. His connection to magic through his Druidic training gave him an intermediate understanding of magical ailments. Certain rituals demanded some understanding of various "everyday" matters, like labor. Salazar's training of the mental arts meant he knew how the mind worked and its connection with a person's magic. He was decent at healing mental wounds but most of the damage done to the mind was complex and took years to heal. Salazar didn't have the practical experience to claim to be a healer of the mind, only, likely, outdated academic knowledge.
Salazar pressed a hand to Neville's chest and brow. Like with his aunt and Mrs. Figg, all those years ago, he entered Neville's core and took a second look around. Shoulders relaxed as he sensed nothing strange—stranger than what had already been there.—It was only a minor mental shift to go from core to Neville's mindscape. Salazar didn't delve in, he had no desire to harm the child's mind but a cursory brush against the outer range, where surface thoughts reigned, could give him an idea of any issues. There was no sign of the splintering and shifting he had sensed before the twins interrupted earlier.
He mentally returned to the physical plane and pulled out his wand. It took a moment to recall the motions of a diagnostics spell. The ancient spell detected nothing of import. There was a slight hint of stress but it was ebbing away, likely because of the sleep the boy was finally receiving.
The founder stared down at the boy with a thoughtful frown. Now that he had confirmed Neville's health, to the best of his limited ability, Salazar couldn't help but consider the boy's questions from earlier. Putting aside the extremely low sense of worth the child had, he had had a good set of questions.
Salazar hadn't thought anything of his befriending of the quiet boy. It had felt perfectly natural. But...but Salazar's interactions with the other first years—the Hufflepuffs mainly—were of a more academic nature. What made Neville different? Why did he go out of the way to find the child outside of class and meals?
He didn't have an answer.
There was just something that drew him to the boy. Salazar felt comfortable in his company, a contentment similar but not quite the same as visiting a grove.
The reincarnate stifled a yawn and shook his head. What did it matter?
None at all, Salazar decided; he would continue his friendship, no matter the answer.
The founder frowned as he considered the determination of that thought. He would fight to keep this friendship. He had even played his hand in front of children.
The Weasley twins knew there was something off about him. Who would they finally tell?
He snorted as he concluded, in a rather poor sense of foreplanning, that it didn't matter at all at the moment. It would likely bite him in the backside in the future but he couldn't care. Who could possibly figure out the truth of the matter anyway? Or believe anyone that somehow figured it out?
Reincarnation was only theoretically known. The stories of it happening had long been thought just that, stories. It would take more than the little Salazar had revealed to convenience anyone that he wasn't just the "reborn Merlin" everyone seemed to think The-Boy-Who-Lived was.
Surviving the killing curse had placed him in a category for being able to do the impossible but doing the impossible and being a reborn wizard from a thousand years ago were two very different things. It just wasn't a jump of logic Salazar could see anyone reaching at this point. So maybe he'd have to deal with explaining away some knowledge with hints of an academically packed childhood. Perhaps he'd have to explain that some of his teachers were from far flung parts of the world where some magical knowledge forgotten here was remembered there.
Salazar tapped the clipboard against the bed frame thoughtfully before another yawn forced its way out. Now, in the middle of the night, was not the time to wonder about it all. The reincarnate placed the clipboard back in its spot and vanished back into his dorm without a sound, without a trace. The runic matrix was removed and everything left in its place. No one would ever know he had been there.
oooP4ooo
The Weasley twins were avoiding him. Neville was still stuck in the hospital wing. Omorose had appeared to steal all the bacon she could at breakfast before vanishing again. Hedwig had dropped a dead mouse off as a present. All the Slytherins were acting like he didn't exist, but that was nothing new.
Classes weren't terrible, though herbology wasn't the same without Neville. The boy knew his plants and Salazar had enjoyed taking a step back to see the little Gryffindor shine. He didn't seem to do well in his other classes. Salazar wasn't about to take this opportunity away from Neville. (The founder watered and cared for the boy's basil after a short conversation with Professor Sprout.)
Salazar felt apathetic by the end of the short school day, Wednesdays being completed by noon had him head towards the forbidden forest once more. There were only so many meaningless classes he could take before he was just done. Reading ahead proved there were new discoveries for all the various subjects but it would be years before the classes reached any significant ones. He had so much to do and it felt like the classes were getting in the way.
It was days like this where he wondered at what he was doing here. What was the point of coming back to Hogwarts? There was a whole world to investigate and learn about. The earth had seemingly tripled in size since his day.
Salazar kicked a rock and heaved a sigh.
This world was exhausting. He rubbed his forehead and stared up through the trees. Just thinking of everything he had learned and needed to fix hinted at the future migraines. Some of the things were probably not worth fighting over or fixing at this point.
He needed to prioritize.
Aspen gatekeepers rose high into the sky, their leaves painted golden, as he stepped through the thicket of pine. Green eyes swept over the trees. Everything looked right. Salazar brushed a finger over a temple of his glasses. The world exploded with color and magic. He jerked back, eyes squeezed shut, and swiped his finger over the temple once more.—He had not expected the sheer amount of magic. Magic was flowing through everything.
He really should add an array to control the amount of magic he could see at once. Salazar paused at the thought. To be able to peel apart layers of the magic present would be fascinating. It would require some planning; he probably needed to pull the matrixes off his glasses and reset it all.
Salazar squinted out through his glasses and found the magic no longer visible. The founder slowly stepped through the entrance between gatekeepers and relaxed as he felt the heavy magic of an ancient grove settle onto his shoulders. He closed his eyes as he breathed in the heavy but fresh tasting air.
He knew his priority had to be Hogwarts. She had stood for nearly a thousand years. He would make certain she would stand another.
After that, Salazar didn't know.
He'd aid Neville, he thought as if answering the unasked question.
Salazar frowned slightly at the certainty of that thought. He mentally searched for why he'd help Neville specifically but it eluded him. Neville wasn't the only child with difficulties. Mrs. Figg had the residue too. She might even be among the group of magicals believing themselves non-magical, which was possibly a greater tragedy. (Each supposed squib had been a child who had gone through what Neville had gone through, if not worse situations.)
Gods, why wouldn't he help his cousin even? Dudley was worse off than anyone, excluding Aunt Petunia. There had to be thousands of children that could use the aid.
But he would help Neville first.
His brow furrowed as he tried to understand. Nothing explained it.
Pain stabbed across his shoulder.
He yelped; eyes snapped open in surprise.
A sharp pain in his ankle snapped through him.
Instinct had him push a circle of mental power out from around him. His wild hair sprang out and stood on ends as the magic rushed out. Squeals of shock and pain filled the grove as his telekinesis sent creatures flying.
Salazar flicked a wooden coin, prepared with a simple runic matrix beforehand. It lit on command: A net of magic ensnared the area.
He glared around himself and flushed in embarrassment. Gnomes and doxies were trapped in his runic net. He had made those nets with giant spiders and other horrid, dangerous creatures in mind. Not pests.
The grove was infested with the creatures. It was obvious when he looked more closely at the area. There were hundreds of burrows and nests in the trees. Even the giant oak at the heart of the grove was covered in their nests. There were hundreds of the creatures.
Salazar sighed as he tugged his fingers through his hair. He paused as he realized its state and proceeded to pull and tug in an attempt to have it cease standing on end. It didn't work.
The boy grimaced but decided to look over the grove's magic instead of continuing the losing fight. In the end—besides the gnomes and doxies, and the minor deterioration of the grove's barrier protections which had allowed the creatures' entry—everything looked about how it should. It would take ages to clean the grove up from all these pests but they weren't doing any actual harm to the place.
What didn't look right was his shoulder and ankle. The first had a doxy bite which was already turning purple as it burned and itched in equal measure. His ankle had a gnome's bite that was less poisonous and wasn't turning a vibrant purple but was itching and turning red in irritation all the same. The founder flashed a glare at the entrapped creatures.
There went his afternoon.
Salazar trudged back to the school. His ankle and shoulder were visibly swollen by the time he reached the hospital wing. Madam Pompfrey waved him distractedly to a bed as she looked over another student's wrist.
Emerald eyes slid lazily over the long room. He paused on Neville's bed. The curtains had been pushed back, the blond gone. Hogwarts sent a feeling of warm embrace and an image of Neville puttering around Greenhouse One. Salazar straightened, intrigued.
"Now what has brought you this time," Madam Prompfrey asked with a hint of exasperation.
Salazar flashed a charming smile up at her. "I've gotten a few bites."
"Midge bites?" she guessed as she flicked her wand. A cart filled with vials floated over to her.
"Err...noo…" Salazar slowly answered. He hadn't come about that but his forearms probably did have midge bites, thinking about it. The tiny bugs were the most likely cause for the bug bites.
The graying lady raised a brow. "Lets see them."
Salazar lifted his ankle and unbuttoned his robe. "My ankle and shoulder, ma'am."
She caught his ankle and pulled the shoe and sock off. A noise of disbelief escaped. "This is a gnome bite. Where did you find a gnome!?"
"Around." He smiled innocently at her as the mediwitch stared disbelievingly back.
After a moment, Madam Promphrey shook her head and dabbled some potion onto his ankle. The distinct mutter of 'children' reached Salazar's ears. She pulled his robe away from his shoulder, intending to clean the bite with the same concoction but paused.
"And what bit you here?"
Salazar ignored his burning cheeks as he answered, "Doxy."
She made a disgruntled sound and dug through her vials. "Where did you find a doxy and gnome?"
"Hogwarts." The grove was within Hogwart's grounds.
Lips pursed together. Madam Pomfrey looked done with the conversation already. "Mr. Potter, you're not in trouble but both creatures are poisonous. They should not be near children. Now, where in Hogwarts, did you find them?"
He shrugged one shoulder.
'Hogwarts?' Salazar silently called out sending a mental image of a doxy and gnome to the castle, 'Do you have either of these around?"
Green eyes locked onto a long needle she pulled out from her cart as he waited to hear from Hogwarts.
Madam Promphrey waved the needle towards the opposite direction from her and his shoulder. "Look that way and breath. I have to let the puss out."
Salazar obeyed, eyebrows raised high. He guessed that some things just never really changed. It was a waste of magic to deal with puss any other way but he had somehow thought the magical community would have developed beyond even the simple fixes. There was something about the community that left that impression—buildings were enchanted together, cheap clothing was charmed into shape, and so on.
His gaze focused on the far wall where the double doors stood. On one side was a large painting of a healer or mediwitch in a similarly outfited hospital room. It might have been Hogwarts's hospital wing from an earlier era. The woman offered a courteous nod when she saw him staring.
A sharp, short lived pain stabbed through his shoulder. Then the pressing ache began to fade. Something warm and damp was pressed against his shoulder.
Hogwarts sent him back an impression of doxies hiding in an empty room then an image of her marble staircase filled his sight. The vision followed the path of a staircase from the ground floor up until it stopped at the sixth floor. She gave nothing for gnomes but Salazar figured this was good enough.
Salazar turned his gaze back to the mediwitch and found her mixing two vials together in a small cup.
At noticing his attention, she explained as she measured, "Some potions do not have a long shelf life. A couple of those have been developed into separate stable potions we then combine as needed. This is one of them."
"What does it do?" Salazar asked. He leaned forward to watch as the first potion met the second. A puff of smoke fizzled up into the air at first contact before the two liquids combined into a deep purple substance. His eyebrows shot upward as the potions visibly thickened into a gel.
Madam Pompfrey pulled the compress off his shoulder and took a look at the bite. It was less swollen, less puffy, but still vibrant purple. She pressed the compress back on and tapped her wand to it. The compress regained its heat. "It'll combat the poison injected by the doxy tee–"
The double doors swung open and a group of girls stampeded in with cries of outrage. Salazar and Pompfrey snapped their gaze over to them. Each had their hair charmed into strange styles and colors.
"We can't get it off!" wailed a girl. Her wail sent the rest of the girls to cry out their own grievance.
"Weasl–"
"They're going to get–"
"–e're missing class!"
"Professor Flit–"
A bang from Madam Pompfrey's wand silenced the group. "All of you take a bed over there–" She waved her wand to the opposite side of Salazar's bed. "–I will be with you shortly."
The group pouted and whined as they went to their designated corner. Salazar watched them curiously. It looked like a charm chain connecting hair styling with color altering charms all skewed towards the obnoxious.
"Get comfortable, Mr. Potter." Madam Pompfrey turned back to him and pulled the compress off. She used a small spatula to scoop and spread the gel over his shoulder. "You're aren't going anywhere until I know all the poison is out and the swelling is down."
Salazar frowned. "Very well."
She huffed a short laugh out. "It wasn't a request, dear."
A couple hours passed before Salazar was freed. With a fine glance to Neville's empty bed, he went to the floor's emergency exit hidden behind a statue of a one-eyed witch. The exit went towards Hogsmeade, and might even exit out into the village now.
He tapped the hump of the statue and muttered, "Dissendium."
Notice-me-not magic wrapped around him as the hidden passage opened. Salazar climbed down into it. The passage was dark and damp. None of the charmed torches lit as they should have. Salazar glared about the walls but decided against investigating now. Light was simple to create. He flicked his wand up and the tip glowed gold.
After a few minutes of walking through the tunnel, he turned to the right wall and hissed in parseltongue, "ss:_Open_:ss."
The wall slid open, revealing another passage that sloped upward. It released him out into the courtyard filled with greenhouses. The wall closed behind without prompting and the Slytherin founder strolled over to Greenhouse One.
Salazar poked his head into the building. He smiled. A certain blond was still present. The Slytherin founder called out, "Neville, what are you doing here? How are you feeling?"
Neville startled before he lit up, warmth radiating from the boy. "Harry! How are you?" Something seemed to cross the blond's mind as his beaming smile faded slight into something more thoughtful as the boy regarded Salazar.
The reincarnate took the opportunity to pull out his basil sprout to water it as he answered, acting as natural as he could while watching for any hint of oddity, "Good, good. You?" Salazar looked up and gave Neville a long look over. "You feeling well?"
He said with a grin, "Yea. Professor Sprout's letting me help since I told Madam Pomfrey how it's soothing. She just stepped out for a moment."
"Gardening is relaxing," Salazar agreed as he continued to care for his plant and decided to let Neville direct the conversation.
Neville didn't appear hurt. The boy no longer had large bags under his eyes, though that was expected with his recent stay at the hospital wing. Nothing stuck out to Salazar as odd or concerning. Maybe it had been stress and exhaustion like the mediwitch claimed.
"Professor Sprout was telling me I could come help in Greenhouse One whenever I need to, I'd just have to let her know. And she said I have talent so I should think about joining the Herbology Alliance next year!" rambled Neville. His vibrant enthusiasm settled any lingering worry Salazar felt.
"You do have the talent," Salazar agreed, "It sounds like a wonderful club. Maybe I should join some."
"Oh that would be bril!" Neville cried out with a grin before he turned red and his expression dropped. A stutter entered his voice as he rushed out, "U-uh, I m-mean, if-if you want to."
Salazar frowned as he realized Neville had misheard him. He fixed the issue by stating, "The Herbology Alliance would be one of my top picks, I think. Do you know what other clubs there are?"
"Really?" The blond lit up again before he became thoughtful. "You'd join more than one? I guess…there were a few different sports clubs, the Spellmanship club...There was an astronomy club and a charms club. Oh and...eh, hehe…"
"What?"
Neville suddenly smirked, startling Salazar at the unusual expression from the boy. "There's a Harry Potter Appreciation Club. I'm sure they'd love having you."
Horror rushed through Salazar. Neville chuckled at the horrified expression Salazar hadn't been able to keep back.
"I wouldn't recommend that one, Mr. Potter."
The two boys looked over to find Professor Sprout pushing a cart full of plants into the greenhouse. Salazar sprang over to help hold the door open for her. "Professor."
"Thank you," she said, "Now, the Alliance doesn't accept first years but you should consider it for next year. You've experience, though you're not quite a natural like Mr. Longbottom, I think."
"It shows?" asked Salazar both amused and resigned to the fact. Most of his experience was from his aunt's garden. That would not remain true once they reached the more magical plants, particularly trees, but it was true now and the perfect explanation if one asked.
"Oh yes."
"Well, I am interested."
She smiled at that answer. "Excellent, I look forward to it. Now off you both go. Go enjoy the warm weather while it lasts!"
The blond hesitated in the courtyard as they left the greenhouse. Hazel eyes stared off at nothing in particular as the boy bit his lip in thought.
"Neville?" Salazar prompted, "We could go to the library, do homework...I can show you a few things you've missed."
Lips turned down and Neville grabbed Salazar's arm, pulling him away from the castle. Neville walked hurriedly and with a purpose as they reached the loch and began to walk around it.
Salazar watched the boy. The further from the school, the more relaxed Neville became. Shoulders lowered and loosened. The frown softened into a more neutral expression. His hazel gaze stared off at the sceneria, taking in the fall colors slowly painting the trees and brush.
He did seem better, but Salazar couldn't help feeling like it was only temporary. Something had changed too, though he couldn't point a finger on what exactly. Maybe it was simply the result of the boy speaking up about all his concerns with his magic and being a squib. The weight of such thoughts must have been difficult to bear as the school year progressed. Or maybe it was the hints admitted of the abuse he had experienced. Salazar wondered and worried over what more might have been done to the boy. Was it acceptable practice to harm children in the pursuit of magical offspring?
"Harry," Neville finally spoke up as he paused at the furthest point of the loch from Hogwarts. "What does it take to fix my magic?"
The founder considered the question for a long moment. It wasn't so much the question of how but what he should say to Neville. Instinct wanted him to be honest but eleven year olds shouldn't know what he knew.
Salazar turned his gaze across the loch to Hogwarts. The castle glowed in the dusk. Thousands of lights gleaned from windows and off stone walls. It's towers rose high into the evening sky. It's reflection only added to the magnificent view.
The feeling of Hogwarts mentally cuddling against him pulled a smile to the founder's serious expression. It enforced his desire to be honest. The child deserved honesty, or as much as Salazar could give him at least.
"There are likely multiple options. I know of one," Salazar said slowly as he tried to dig through his emotions to understand why he would explain but, as always seemed to be the case with Neville, he found no answers.
Neville turned from the loch and looked at him. Determination set the boy's jaw out into a stubborn line. The stance he held and the way he held it was familiar. It nagged at the back of Salazar's mind even as it relaxed him.
The blond asked, "What can you do?"
"You wouldn't believe me," Salazar answered with a sigh, "You'll fear I'm insane."
"You showed me my magic and the taint wrapped around it," Neville countered sharply before he hesitated, looked out at the loch, but added after a second thought, "I...I don't remember what happened at the end there." His brow furrowed as he struggled to recall. "Silver...and-and a girl?–" Neville shook his head before he looked back at Salazar. "–I think I can expend disbelief."
Salazar paused at the boy's phrasing and regarded the child. That hadn't sounded like an eleven year old. He discarded that thought a second later. Neville was around Hermione often enough that her vocabulary could be rubbing off him. (He chose to ignore the little Neville revealed about his collapse. It made no sense and Salazar had no idea where to begin with such details. It was something to tackle later, when Neville was willing to give more detail and was, perhaps, a little older.)
"We would visit a druid's grove near here...it is in the forbidden forest." Salazar paused at that but Neville continued to stare at him with clear resolve. "We'd visit during a dark moon and complete a purification ritual. This will help clean the taint but it will take multiple rituals with the amount on you."
"Alright." Neville offered with a short nod.
Slytherin stared. "Alright?"
"Yes," Neville said before he tilted his head with a thoughtful look. "Is there more?"
"Well…" Salazar slowly answered, flummoxed at Neville's response to everything, "besides the monthly purification, there is a more complex one during the start of Spring. And...there are cleansing pools that might also help. Such pools can remove a layer of the taint if used often enough but for old taint it usually...lossens it, I suppose is the proper description."
Neville finally frowned but his next words weren't questioning Salazar knowledge. "How does one get old taint? You said..." His frown deepened, wrinkles spread across his brow. "You said some comes from our parents or grandparents?"
"When we use magic, we twist it to our will and desire. Some will remain on our person as this taint. When magic is used on us it can also leave a taint...or residue." Salazar explained, "Now when we progenate, some of our internal magic is taken by the baby...fetus. It's most obvious for the mother as the child's core is interconnected to the mother's until labor when the separation happens. During the separation, a section of the mother's magic is claimed by the child. Residue is pulled with that magic into the child. The mother's core recovers of course, but she may appear to grow stronger if enough residue is pulled off..."
Salazar paused and flicked his gaze over to Neville. The boy looked thoughtful as he stared out at the loch as he listened. The founder considered the other side of the explanation and realized he would never be able to avoid it. (There had been a time where he had hoped he could but clearly the gods would never allow that.) Salazar turned his gaze up to the sky as he said, "The male's side is less obvious as it occurs in two forms. One involves the act of ejaculation–"
Neville started to choke and stumbled back from Salazar. The parselmouth firmly avoided looking at the boy. Hogwarts really was lovely today.
"–and the other involves the physical presence of the father during pregnancy. The secondary is encouraged by many Families and Houses as the more magic the baby intakes from the father, the stronger the child will be in his patricatical magic. Magic can recognize whose family the child is a part of, though particularly powerful women can make things a little interesting...But that is just a sign of the mother's skill and the child deserves to follow after their more powerful parent…"
"It is also encouraged because the magic released during ejaculation is both dependent on the man's age, physical fitness, emotional connection to their partner and the frequency in which they complete ejaculation. If they are masterbating or having sex often, they often have less magic to release for any potential child. Of course, the more active they are–"
"Right!" squeaked out Neville, "I got it!"
Silence fell over them. Salazar helpfully left Neville to his blushing and horror filled thoughts as he considered how this talk usually involved actually discussing sex. He hoped he didn't have to revisit the conversation with Neville.—The boy had family that could give him that discussion. (Salazar should not have had to explain those things to children as often has he had.)
The blond spoke up without looking at Salazar. "So, even after the taint is gone I'll have to keep doing this ritual with you?"
"Yes," Salazar confirmed as he finally looked over at the Gryffindor, "but I may be able to teach you how to complete it yourself. Some have the skillset for it."
Neville nodded. The last of his embracement faded as he turned thoughtful. "Alright."
The founder raised a brow at that simple decision. He stared at the calm boy. Neville stared back. Finally Salazar gave a nod and looked down at his watch. "Monday is the next Dark Moon."
"Where and when should I meet you?"
"Ah," Salazar offered as he considered the various routes they could go.
The normal route through the front door and out the inner walls would likely attract attention. The tracking enchantment on the inner wall would tag Neville as the boy still had the Trace. It would be better to use one of the emergency exits. The one in the dungeon led to the Eastern grove, or had back in his day. He hadn't visited that one yet but the Northeastern grove was the safest one so far. The exit would still work, if it was not compromised.
While he had to make sure that was still true, Neville needed to make it down to the dungeon unseen. Salazar frowned. Where were the Gryffindor dorms now? He sent the question to Hogwarts and she responded by showing him an image of the seventh floor and one of the towers.
"Do you know the portrait of the Fat Friar? On seventh." At Neville's nod, Salazar continued, "Meet there at 9pm Monday."
Neville nodded once more with another "Alright".
Salazar watched his little, chubby friend with concern. The blond seemed oddly content to follow Salazar's directions. He also appeared distracted, lost in some unknown set of thoughts.
oooP5ooo
That night, Salazar wandered through the maze of hallways in the dungeons and found a familiar plaque of carved serpents on a wall. After a quick check on its protective enchantments and the general area, he tapped each head in a specific pattern. At the final tap, the wall faded to reveal a hidden passage. Salazar lit his wand, as it was in hand, and vanished into the unlit, dusty path.
The founder gave a short pause at the sight of a large snake statue to the side of the hidden passage before he continued. There would be time later to investigate why such was present. Right now he needed to know if this passage was still intact.
It didn't take long to determine that Rowena's time-space enchantments had broken. If they had been working, he'd have reached the end already. Salazar frowned as he tried to recall how long the passage was.
"Twenty minutes?" he muttered to himself as he guessed. He couldn't recall it's length but it was one of the longest paths from Hogwarts. It was one of the seven main escape routes in case of a successful invasion. Distance was sometimes the best form of safety so this route was made as long as they thought necessary. That they aimed it towards one of the groves so the children could hide within it had been the second step to the escape plan for this particular route.
Fifteen minutes into the walk found the passage filled with rubble and long strands of roots. The passage abruptly ended with a tree growing out of it. Salazar rubbed his jaw as he considered the blocked path for a few minutes. Some investigation of the tree and a little magic allowed for easy climbing.
Salazar stared around the forest. There was no indicator on where he was. The tree was visibly shorter than others of the same species. That was it. But that could be enough for someone to sneak into Hogwarts. Someone or something dangerous.
"Well I know what I'm going to fix next," muttered Salazar before he took the obvious route and continued in the direction the passage should have gone. Not five minutes later and the protective aspens of the Eastern grove came into view.
One of the gatekeepers was dead which opened the gate and the grove to invaders. Salazar stepped into the entrance and the grove became visible, stretching out before him. It's old magic settled over him, welcoming and warning him in turn. Giant trees rose high into the night sky. The grove was even more magical in the moonlight.
Emerald eyes widened, any thoughts on planting a new aspen or connecting one of the aspens already grown to the protective barrier faded to the back of his mind. Though the invading creatures could be devastatingly dangerous when provoked, Salazar couldn't find it in himself to actually complain over their presence.
One did not complain of a herd of unicorns.
Salazar would have to come back to look over the warding magic and cornerstone when they were out. Or he would need to find a way to temporarily send them off. If the herd had claimed the grove as theirs, it was well protected from most immediate threats. (How to protect the grove but allow the herd to continue utilizing its protections ran through his mind.)
He leaned back against the living aspen and watched as a few foals played around their slumbering mothers. It was a rare sight. The emerald eyed boy met one of the hardstaring stallions. He had three powerful males standing guard between him and the rest of their herd. They had rose or awakened at his entrance.
Seeing their irritation grow, Salazar bowed and left.
Salazar forced himself back on track and took a few minutes to hunt down the proper exit of the escape passage. It was destroyed. Had been for a very long time. Salazar couldn't be sure if it had been a natural destruction or if it had been done on purpose. The rumble of rocks were covered in moss and plants. A couple of trees had claimed the area too.
It didn't likely matter now but the Slytherin founder couldn't help but wonder. Someone out there could know of this and could use it to their advantage. It was unlikely but it was still possible.
Salazar didn't like that. There were plenty of things he didn't like, though. The boy shook his head of such thoughts and headed back to the school. There was no point grumbling over it all.
Right now, all that mattered was that the escape route would take them to the forest. He would be able to guide Neville to the Northeastern grove. That one, being fully intact, would be the safest to use.
oooP6ooo
(Neville)
Firelight flickered playfully, illuminating the common room. Neville pressed his cheek against one of the wings of the wingback chair as he stared into the flame. It was welcoming and playful and safe—everything a fire shouldn't be.
"Sally," muttered Neville. His brow furrowed as he willed himself to remember. It was so close, whoever Sally was teased at the edge of memory. That feeling grew around Harry for some reason, even though he rarely wore Slytherin silver.
Silver was his only clue. It haunted his dreams, and had done so ever since he came here. What was he not remembering?
Eyes fluttered closed. Silver and blood red—Eyes snapped back open, the faint sense of danger flickered across his subconscious.—The red didn't belong with the silver. It shouldn't be there.
Hazel reflected firelight as he stared wide eyed. He felt haunted by forgotten things. It wasn't just the silver and Sally. There were other things that nudged at him teasingly. When he was in the Great Hall and when he was in charms it was the worst. The only time it faded was when he was in the Greenhouse or by the lake.
There was something he had forgotten. He had known that for a while now. But the feeling of having forgotten something terribly important had only gotten worse the longer he stayed at Hogwarts. Maybe it was because he didn't have to worry about being a squib that his mind had decided, without his conscious agreement, to worry more about other things.
The feeling had become worse since seeing his core.
"You'd think I'd worry about cleaning my magic more," muttered Neville.
He didn't, though. Harry would help him. Somehow he just knew that Harry could do the impossible and clean the gunk out. Harry had proven Neville had magic after all. His friend was The-Boy-Who-Lived; he could do nearly anything.
That was probably why he found himself focused on things he couldn't recall. Harry was The-Boy-Who-Lived but the mind was tricky business. The state of his parents was a clear indication of how little magic could help there. Neville had to deal with what haunted his dreams and who Sally was on his own.—Even if something insisted that Harry could probably help with his memory too.
His lips pressed together. Eyes narrowed in determination. Harry would help with his magic but he would have to figure out what he had forgotten. Maybe he'd be able to sleep through the night without staying in the hospital wing then.
oooP7ooo
(Harry)
Neville gave no comment when Salazar opened the hidden passage behind the portrait of the Fat Friar. He made only a slight sound of surprise as the passage deposited them in the dungeon a few moments later. The blond gave Salazar a hard look, the faintest hint of nervousness finally peeking through in his hazel eyes, as the reincarnate revealed the hidden passage out to the forest. But the Gryffindor said nothing. He didn't even visibly hesitate in following Salazar.
The Slytherin didn't know what to feel about that. A few weeks ago he wouldn't have expected any child willing to do this without calling him insane, without demanding answers. With the articles implying his possible dark nature, he expected most of the children to run off to adults and spill all the impossibilities Salazar had claimed and showed. Neville had not run to an adult or claimed him crazy. (Neither had the Weasley twins for that matter.)
Maybe Neville was that desperate. Salazar frowned as he considered that.
By the Mother, what Salazar wished to do to the adults in the blond's life. They had failed Neville in every possible way, as far as Salazar was concerned. He hoped that their failures didn't leave permanent scarring.
He glanced at the blond as they traversed the old escape route. His frown deepened. Shadows were returning under Neville's eyes. The eleven year old was weighed down by so many things children shouldn't have to worry about. Salazar didn't know if he could help the child as much as he needed.
Once in the forest, Neville kept in step with Salazar. Hints of fear flickered to life in the way he huddled a little closer, in the widened eyes, and in the hardened expression as if he was fighting himself. When the boy noticed Salazar scrutiny, his back straightened and his hazel gaze met Salazar's as if daring the founder to back out now, as if insisting Neville, himself, wouldn't.
The Slytherin said nothing. One day, Neville would be able to look back at this and be proud of his resolve. One day, if the truth of Salazar was ever revealed, he hoped Neville would not regret trusting him. He feared the world would think it a foolish thing to do—a death sentence. Salazar Slytherin was evil, after all. No one would trust him with their children. (He wasn't bitter about that at all.)
When they reached the grove, Neville finally spoke, his voice soft with wonder. "Oh…This is a druid's grove?" The blond stared in awe at the ancient trees and the feel of old, blanketed magic in the air.
"An old grove." answered Salazar as he joined the blond in appreciating the view and feel of it all. It really was tranquil. Autumn golds and reds filled the sacred place, transforming the tranquility with the last breath of life before the trees and world slumbered the winter away.
The eleven year old reincarnate turned back to the blond and said, "I need you to strip. I've some runes to write across your chest, arms, legs, and forehead."
Neville flushed red. His voice came out squeaky. "All of it?"
"Yes." Salazar said, distracted as he pulled out his prepared mixture of ash and soil.
The blond was a tomato as he stripped naked and allowed Salazar to draw the symbols over his body. Understanding the child's discomfort, he worked quickly. "Stay perfectly still. We need that to dry before we begin."
"Right," mumbled Neville as he avoided eye contact.
Salazar turned away from him, giving Neville the privacy he wanted, and prepared the ritual area. Since there was no tent, he was able to set it up at the very center of the grove. The position was not particularly important.—It could be for other rituals but not this one.—It didn't take long, it was really just placing rune covered candles into a circle. In the grove near the Dursleys, he had pulled Mother's magic close to the surface for easy access also but her magic sang through the very air here.
"Neville come stand in the middle." The founder directed the boy to the proper spot before he gave a firm warning, "This is going to be uncomfortable. It should never be painful. If it becomes painful, feel free to exit the circle. That will break the ritual. You usually don't want to do that but this is an exception to that rule. Got that?"
"Yes," Neville answered as he straightened and temporarily forgot his nakedness.
Salazar stared hard at the boy for a moment before he nodded. "Other than that, there isn't much you need to worry about this time around. Eventually I'll lead you through the steps so you might be able to do this on your own."
"What are you going to do?" Neville asked, finally demanding some form of answers. Salazar had expected it earlier. He would have preferred it earlier.
He pressed his lips together and took a moment to keep any sarcasm from escaping. Salazar gave a short, overly simplified explanation but it would do. "I will be directing the earth's magic to the residue in your core. The runes on your person, this grove's natural magics, and the magic of the moon all help direct the earth magic towards an act of purification and cleansing. Because of the amount of residue you possess, I will mentally follow the flow of the purifying magic to make certain everything runs smoothly."
He paused before giving an apologetic glance at the boy. "I'll likely end up brushing my magic up against yours. I apologize for the feeling."
"Is it painful?" asked Neville quietly.
"No," Salazar explained with a wave of a hand as if brushing the concern away, "but I may learn more about your magic than you know presently...You might learn a bit about my magic also... and the core is inherently connected to our minds and thoughts. It is possible I'll see a memory or two, and you may see a memory or two of mine...Ask me questions if you're confused or worried about anything you end up learning. Please."
Neville frowned at him, his hands rung together as his nerves surfaced even more. "How...common is it for memories to be shared?"
"It's extremely rare but possible," Salazar answered as he knelt before one of the candles. If it was common he would not be connecting with people's cores and helping with this ritual with so many people. In this day and age, it would have been even less likely, he didn't really need everyone finding out who he was.
"Are you ready?" asked Salazar as he refocused, "Listen to your instincts, the magic of the ritual will guide you. And don't panic but remember you can leave the circle at any time. All you should need to do is stand there and breath."
At Neville's nod, the founder focused on the earth magic. The grove's magic swirled alongside the leylines. Both eagerly responded to his call. He lit the first candle and soon the magic filled smoke of the candles swirled around Neville.
Neville breathed in the smoke, prompted by the magic to breath deep and calmly. With each deep breath, the runes flared to life across his form. The ritual sang with power. Its magic seeped into Neville.
Salazar entwined a strand of his own core magic with the ritual magic and mentally projected himself alongside the natural magic moving into Neville. His senses shifted to the internal workings of the ritual on the child. His vision shifted from the dark grove to the sunset colored core covered in residue.
A swirl of golden, sparkling, streams of magic flowed out in a rush, rubbing against the sickly red and blues and purples of taint wrapped and circling lazily around Neville's core. The ritual scrubbed away all hint of the Trace before it drew closer to the older taint. He could already tell that the oldest of the taint was centuries older than Neville. Some of this was the results of fools discarding knowledge they considered obsolete. Others were the results of fools delving into magic they should have never interacted with. Neville had some evil ancestors. But then, Salazar did also.
The difference between the amount of magical residue on Salazar compared to Neville likely came down to their mothers. His mother was muggleborn, or from a long line of squibs. Either way, she likely had less or no residue on her person. In turn, Neville's mother had been pureblood. (This could have as easily been down to their fathers but both had been purebloods.)
As Salazar expected, most of the taint barely reacted to the purification ritual. Strands faded away and unfurled the deeper layers. Whole sections of those layers grew lax and released it's tight hold on the magical core but would not allow itself to be fully removed. The edges of residue around the spikes of fiery core magic was chipped away, allowing more of the core free.
Green eyes snapped to odd movement as jagged pieces of the residue broke off from the rest. Salazar reached out to the ritual and forcefully redirected some of the flowing magic to catch the broken taint before it traveled into the core itself or, worse, into the boy's mind. Magical residue could do terrible things to people. The worst, Salazar had found, was when the taint contaminated a person's mind.
He would not allow such to happen on his watch.
Ropes of fiery magic snapped out of the new openings in the residue. He saw the ritual magic catch the freed pieces of residue at the same moment he saw the coiling ropes shoot towards him. Salazar had just a second to count three before the ropes slammed into his chest, buried through his veins and into his own magical core. His vision exploded and the world went dark.
oooPooo
1. It has crossed my mind that a decent number of you might confuse the first floor with the ground floor. Buildings in Britain are usually set up with a ground floor and then the next story up is the first floor. Hogwarts is structured in this story with:
- a dungeon level (potions & Slytherin house)
- kitchen level (kitchens & Hufflepuff house)
- ground level (Great Hall & greenhouses & Filch's office)
- first floor (McGonagall's office & classroom, Healing Hall, history class)
- second floor (DADA office & classroom)
- third floor (trophy room, Armour Gallery, Charms classroom)
- fourth floor (library)
- fifth floor (second story of library with no entrance to it, path to the Divination classroom)
- sixth floor (path to astronomy tower, studies and club rooms, entry to owlery)
- seventh floor (Gryffindor dorms, Ravenclaw dorms, Flitwick's office, Room of requirements, entry to Dumbledore's room)
- eighth" floor is Dumbledore's domain and various tower sections.
I realize that the end of this chapter feels fairly similar to the end of the last chapter. That wasn't intentional...I didn't notice it until I published the last chapter. So I guess, sorry for two cliffhangers in a row. XD
I hope all of you are staying safe and healthy! And thank you for reading.