Ouroboros

by Novus Ars

Salazar Slytherin woke up in the body of a three year old boy with the most ridiculous head of black hair & a runic scar craved into his forehead. The last thing he recalled was dying. Now it is over 900 years in the future. There are a million things to deal with between new inventions, lost knowledge, missing spirits, & parasitic dark lords. (multi-povs. Unreliable narrator. AU)

16. Chapter 16

Cheers to 2021 and everyone being healthy, safe, and less stressed. I hope you all had a decent holiday, even it if may have been quiet and small. And I hope this chapter brings a smile to you all. Chapter Sixteen

oooP1ooo

(Neville)

Something smelled delicious.

He shifted and the smell was overwhelmed by something far less appetizing. Hazel eyes cracked open in confusion. A blur of black and the smell of earth and fire, and something particularly unsavory filled his nose and mouth. There was hair in his mouth. His jaw throbbed as he spat the hair out.

Every muscle screamed as he struggled up. He blinked and blurring looked about. Burgundy curtains surrounded him. He was in his dormitory bed with blankets of red and gold and silver and green...Godric blinked a few more times, sat up properly, and stared down at the odd Slytherin themed throw.

A weight rolled up against him. It was Salazar, still out to the world. A wet cowlick of hair stuck out into the air. Godric made a face as he realized what had been in his mouth.

The boy rubbed his face and head with a groan. He felt like he had drank way too much. His eyes, lids heavy, slid shut and his head bobbed towards his chest while he tried to wake up properly and think. He forced his eyes open with a loud groan.—Sally was in his bed for a reason. His brother smelled (tasted) like something had died for a reason.

He just had to wake up enough to recall why.

Twin redheads peeked inside before they flung the curtains wide open. Vibrant light blinded Godric and sent him fumbling for a pillow to cover his face with. He shoved Salazar back over and attempted to burrow back into bed.

Someone poked him in the side. He twitched and smacked the hand away. It came back a moment later.

One of the twins whispered, "Uhh, Your Gryffindorness?...We..uh...we were ordered to tell you what happened—is happening. Her Ravenclawness said...she said to not let you ignore us 'cause you need to know whats up and up asap."

Godric groaned and peeked a glare out over the blankets, silently demanding they leave.

The other twin spoke up with a scoff at his brother, distracting the poking annoyance from Godric's fantastic (apparently useless) glare, "I don't get why it has to be asap. He obviously needs to sleep more."

"There's only so long we can hide the fact that neither has gotten up, like, at all." scoffed George (Godric arbitrarily deemed this twin George) back as he forgot his hesitance displayed a moment before.

"We've been doing pretty good," countered Fred. The boy smirked as he folded his arms across his chest and added, terribly pleased with himself, "and we've gotten seconds for all the meals too."

"Ronniekins would be so jealous." Agreed one twin to the other before grins faded and he countered back, "Percy isn't listening. The other prefects aren't going to keep him away much longer."

At that point Godric gave up on going back to sleep. He was awake. He remembered: defense professor dead, mountain troll dead, philosopher stone destroyed to cover up evidence and a parasitical spirit fled after attempting to possess Salazar. Another few days sleeping sounds fantastic. Maybe the repercussions of it all would be wrapped up by then.

Godric forced himself back up and tossed the pillow at Sally. His brother didn't twitch. He shook his head at the unconscious boy and pushed the blankets off, uncarrying that he pushed them off Sally also.

"Wow." breathed one twin.

The other clearly agreed as he voiced his brother's thoughts, "Those are some tattoos."

Godric stared at the two thirteen year olds and then glanced down at himself. He had a shirt on. The snoring sheep shirt was long sleeved so it wasn't him.

He looked back at Sally and saw his brother's back was on display. Tattoos curved across his muscles in a horde of languages and nonsensical markings. Each woven with other markings to create large geometric and swirling patterns.

Godric helpfully tucked the blanket back over him before he stated tiredly, "You can't get anything like those until you're adults."

"So...eleven year olds can get them but not us,–" scoffed one of the twins, his arms folding stubbornly across his chest.

The other twin continued the statement with a frown, "–just because the eleven year olds are ancient–"

"–super powered–" grumbled the first.

"–wizards–"

"–from a thousand years ago?"

"No," groused Godric as he glared around the room in search of whatever smelt so good, "we got them after our magical maturity also. They just decided to appear on our eleven year old bodies. They're not simple tattoos."

Eyes lit up. The two boys shared a look before the more grumpy one, supposedly Fred, remarked in excitement. "Like cousin Titus's Romanian Longhorn? It flies across his shoulders and comes down to his biceps when he flexes."

Godric stared. "As in...it's...charmed to emphasize his arm muscles?" He was so not awake enough for this.

"It's bril," grinned Fred before gaining a dreamly sort of look and said, "I'm going to get one with a Peruvian Vipertooth. They're way cooler looking.–" A sly expression crossed the thirteen year old's face. Blue eyes darted to Godric's as if in anticipation for the founder's reaction. "–Heard you can get your wand tattooed onto your wan–"

George clamped a hand over Fred's mouth and blurted out with a slightly horrified look, "They are part of the reason you didn't want to go to the hospital wing!" A pause filled the room as George visibly floundered for something more to say and Fred stood in unreplent glee at his brother's reaction.

"I've, uhmm…" Blue eyes darted about for something and George's ears flamed red. His gaze fell to the unconscious Salazar and blurted out, "been casting that diagnostic spell every few hours."

Godric straightened up. "Sal–"

George interrupted quickly, "He's getting better—you both are...umm...Master Evander taught me what to keep an eye out for and what I should do if I see certain colors...I think.. I mean, I could be wrong!...but...I think, his Slytheriness should wake up in a day...or two." He freed Fred before he worriedly added, "That might be too long. We can't keep everyone away for much longer."

A platter of food was revealed on an end table when Fred moved away from his brother, drawing Godric's attention. It looked amazing. Seeing Godric's attention on the plate, Fred moved it up onto the bed.

"Everyone knows he's here–" George continued to ramble. Godic looked up after claiming a spoonful of mashed potatoes. The poor kid looked nervous while he brother seemed to not give a damn. "–in Gryffindor tower."

Fred spoke up, voice sharp and demanding, and took over the explanation. "We saw you sneak him in, after all. He didn't want to be alone on Halloween. Told 'em what you said to use.–" Godric gave a short nod of understanding. Fred relaxed and offered a grin as he continued to explain. "–we thought it was a grand old prank. Everyone believed us. Even when we claimed that you were both too embarrassed at being caught."

"Which, umm, is why we've been bringing food up to you," added George before grimacing, "...and pranking your roommates into leaving you two be."

After a pause where Godric imagined the two boys, one almost cringing and the other stubbornly waiting, expected a scolding—and perhaps he should give them one but he just couldn't make himself care at the moment—George continued the explanation. "The only thing keeping people from wondering why he's still here is the fact that we've all been locked in our dorms. The school is swarming with ministry people trying to figure out what happened. None of us have been allowed out of the dormitory, classes have been canceled for the last two days, the Halloween celebration occurred in the common rooms…"

Godric stilled, spoon halfway to his mouth. He gave George a long look and repeated, "Two days?"

The redhead nodded, "Its Saturday evening...so it's more like three days."

"It's a huge mess," Fred announced with delight as he plopped down onto the carpeted floor, "Everyone up here is disappointed, though. There's apparently some type of enchantment on the tower to keep the sound of wind blowing around the tower from echoing into the place. It kept the sound of the explosion from reaching us. Everyone woke up to find the common room locked down. It actually took until lunch time for anyone to look outside and realize the loch had expanded."

Godric choked. George helpfully stepped forward and smacked his back as he cleared his airway. He demanded with a slight strangled note to his voice, "What?"

The twins looked at each other and then Fred silently pointed to one of the windows. Godric stumbled over and looked out. The setting sun reflected off the loch, highlighting the new, decidedly large cove. The center of it was dark, indicating it's depth. He was suddenly very glad he had decided against one of the twins levitating the rock into the bag. There was no way they would have been able to do so outside the detonation zone.

He turned back to the boys and asked, "Has an adult been by?"

Fred shrugged. "No. House elves come by with updates and food. We've been ordered to do homework and read ahead in books. And the prefects have been charged with scheduling study time." Here both of the twins made faces at the concept. "We're supposed to hear from Professor McGonagall soon but I think she's been dragged into everything."

"She is the deputy after all," agreed George before he pulled out a familiar, worn parchment folded up in multiple ways and offered it to Godric. "We've seen the other head of houses visit their dorms."

Godric took the apparent map and spied a flash of frustration across Fred's face before the boy hid his feelings on losing their map. The reincarnate ignored that for the moment and turned the old parchment about.

It was folded into multiple layers and even looked like more than one piece of parchment had been spelled together. The first unfolded layer revealed decorative black ink and a title.

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, & Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

Past the first fold were layers of parchment revealing the various levels of Hogwarts and its many unusual paths from one floor to another. The map showed the packed common rooms and dorms. Names of children over lapped, there were so many in each area. He spied the heads of houses in the Great Hall, along with a score of names belonging to strangers—Albert Abbott, Briar Clagg, Atticus Fortescue, Paul Clearwater, Griselda Marchbanks, amongst others. That some of the unknowns had House surnames sparked his interest but he turned to other parts of the map. He paused on the headmaster or, more specifically, the woman walking beside him. Laelia Smith had a title under her name. She was the Mater of Hufflepuff.

Godric imagined the woman's physical appearance for a moment before continuing to look over the unusual map.—Would she look like Helga at all? Or even Gareth? He hoped so.

The map also showed many of the hidden passages, not just the odd halls and side stairs that appeared on specific days or phases of the moon, or whatever. The most damning were the escape routes. Master Hardwin had been correct saying this could be dangerous in another's hands.

It was both a relief and a glaring failure that the map didn't include everything. Whoever had made it, had never found all the secrets of Hogwarts. At a glance over, he spied a short list of missed rooms and hidden passages. The ritual rooms were missing. Each of their personal suites were not present. The room they have been using as a temporary dueling hall was nowhere in sight. And, of course, the cove itself was not present but that could be excused away by its new existence.

Godric rubbed his brow as he looked over the details, at the edge of a headache the map's existence promised. Finally he looked at his dorm room. He was correct on which twin was which. And they hadn't been lying about the map switching how it displayed his and Salazar's names. Definitely something to fix, if they kept the thing.

"I'll be keeping this for now."

"We know," mumbled George. Both boys seemed despondent at the fact. Godric couldn't make himself care.

Godric folded the map up and rose.

"Ah..can we?" Fred reached out. Godric raised a brow but gave the map back. Fred pulled his wand out, unfolded it a layer to show off the title, and tapped it, pronouncing, "Mischief managed."

The intricate design faded away. Fred returned it as George said, "The password is 'I solemnly swear I'm up to no good'."

Godric nodded as he unfolded it and found it was now just a folded piece of blank parchment. "Interesting."

He shuffled over to his trunk to store the parchment. All his books and shoes were actually stacked beside it, instead of inside. Godric frowned for a moment before it hit him that he had all Salazar's things too. That Mipsy couldn't fit everything did not bode well.

Flipping the lid revealed multiple stacks of clothing. Half were his and half were Salazar's. He lifted a stack to reveal a carefully organized trunk. It looked like a massive three-dimensional puzzle set. Most of it was books and more books. Mipsy had added a netting across the inside of the lid. The netting held the delicate telescope and scales they each possessed.

The founder made a face at the impossibility of finding anything, slid the map in between a book and cauldron, and pulled out fresh clothing. He looked up at the twins. "Is there anything else? I'd like to freshen up while you keep an eye on Sally, if not."

A slight twitch appeared across the boys' mouths but they restrained themselves from whatever they found amusing. Fred shook his head. "No. It's just…"

George looked over at Salazar before he turned back to Godric. "They explained a little, the spirits."

"Explained what?"

"You're like us," Fred leaned forward and tugged at a loose string at the end of his robe. Gazing on that string, he said, "You did something to create the bond, you weren't born with it but you and Slytherin basically have a twin bond."

"Brothers from a different mother," muttered George as he sat besides his own brother, knocking their shoulders together.

"And fadar," whispered a new, hoarse voice.(1)

The three snapped their gaze back to Godric's bed. Salazar laid with his eyes narrowed into slits, staring bluringly at them all the while still looking like a limp noodle on his stomach with his limbs lax from slumber. He didn't look like he could move even if he had wanted to.

"Wha' dey say?" he slurred out all the same.

"You should be sleeping." Godric huffed before he pulled out some clothes for Salazar. His brother needed more sleep but he knew Salazar too well to think the Slytherin would actually do so. Salazar wouldn't let himself sleep now that he was awake.

To prove that fact, the dark headed boy finally moved. Salazar pushed himself up and, with a groan of complaint, failed to sit up. Instead he ended up rolling onto his back. This knocked the blankets and sheet off Salazar, revealing a network of bruises and scratches across his upper body, and more of his various ritual runic marks.

Godric frowned as the new angle also revealed his brother's short, sharp breaths. Salazar was having difficulty breathing which meant his throat had swelled. His neck was ghastly looking.

The twins glanced between the two. They looked extremely uncomfortable. Godric slammed his trunk closed and snapped, "Well?"

George finally answered, though he refused to look at either founder. "They explained how the story of your falling out probably came into existence."

Godric stilled. He didn't want to hear what the others had told the boys. But he couldn't get himself to leave. His eyes slid to stare at Salazar. His brother was frowning at George, any hint of sleep gone.

"Wha' dey say?" Salazar repeated in his croaking, hoarse voice. It came out a whisper but Godric could tell that wasn't on purpose. He would need to get a hold of some bruise cream and something to cut the swelling down.

George's expression broke as he stared at Salazar. Fred dropped his gaze to the floor. The twins leaned against each other and George turned his stare to Godric before he answered, as if Godric was easier to look at. Maybe Rowena or Helga had warned them that Salazar might not know.

"I understand," George whispered, though the voice seemed to ring through the room, "I'd react the same way if I l-lost Fred."

Godric's throat clenched and he looked away from them all. His mouth was dry. He didn't want to hear it. He knew what George would say.

"Godric couldn't say you died," George said, simplifying the extent of it. The boy probably didn't know the full extent of his reaction to Salazar's death.

Tears stung Godric's eyes at the reminder of his lost brother. He firmly reminded himself that Salazar was back. His eyes trailed back to the reincarnated druid. Emerald eyes were locked on the redhead speaking.

"He couldn't say it. He would say you had left them or...or had gone away. Or said nothing at all. After so many years...they...they think the Normandy's or-or...umm...somebody blew it up. Took the words to mean you literally left instead of died." George fell silent after his words.

No one else spoke for a long moment. Godric looked away again, hating himself for his reactions. Look what they had resulted in.

A loud clatter shattered that silence.

Godric startled at the sharp sound and turned about to find the platter of food spilled across the ground, the ceramic plate broken into pieces. Salazar was half out of bed, eyes wide and blinking toward the sound. The twins gawked down at it.

"C-could–" A sharp, creaky breath was sucked in. "–you ge' us more food?" Salazar finally said.

Both boys sprung up and fled with quick mutters of affirmative. Salazar tried to call out something, but it sounded like painful, garbled nonsense and caused the brunet to start hacking.

The door slammed closed and the room filled with the sound of Salazar hacking and coughing as he tried to recover from his attempt to speak normally. Godric knelt down and flipped the largest piece of plate over to pile everything else on top. The bed creaked. A hand grasped his shoulder.

He dropped his head down. It was his fault, in part, that everyone believed Sally was an evil man. How terrible did that make him? A rush of self-hate and the depressing knowledge that he was worthless hit him. This time he knew exactly why and he knew he deserved the feeling.

Salazar pulled Godric up and into a one armed hug. "Broþor."

Godric slumped, closed his eyes at the contact and the muttered word. Relief washed over him. He turned, completed the hug for a moment, and then stepped out of it.

"You smell of troll." Godric announced as he pushed a pile of clothes into Salazar's arms.

Sally quirked a brow behind his slightly askew glasses as he whispered hoarsely, "And you don' smell li'e a dec-composing body?"

He scoffed back, "You look like a trent used you as a walking stick."

"Well a love struc' hag did a number on you." Salazar countered with a smirk.

Godric turned red. "Dammit Sally, that was one time! And I was fifteen!—Nothing actually happened."

Salazar humphed, smirk still in place. He turned towards the bathroom clearly about to waltz out as if he had won, and nearly fell over. Godric caught his brother with a laugh. The two ended up using each other as crutches to stumble to their much needed showers instead.

oooP2ooo

(Harry)

"Goodness, you should get that looked over, dear. Best be off to the hospital wing," said the mirror in a matronly voice.

Salazar made a face at the thing, finding himself disliking enchanted mirrors more and more as he ran into them. He ignored it, of course, and leaned into the counter to have a proper look at his neck and the cut on his cheek. Both would have to be covered before someone not in the know saw them.

The cut was red and irritated, almost matching his runic scar which had scabbed over as well as could be expected. It didn't look like stitches were necessary at least. A cream or potion was probably all he needed.

An almost whistling sound escaped him as he inhaled and tilted his head back to squint at the mirror. Purple and deep blue bruises covered his throat. It had the vaguest hint of a hand print. The darkest bruises were where the fingers had been. Halfmoon cuts from nails were red against the dark purple.

He stepped back, feeling nauseous. He had never had anyone that close to killing him before—physically that close. There was something so much more intimate having hands around your neck than a spell squeezing your life away. His hand rose to his side where he had once been stabbed. This felt more intense than a knife in the chest, though that might be because of distance and the fog of memory.

Salazar stared back at himself and tried not to consider his physical age but couldn't help it. A child, tiny and thin if not well toned from physical exertion, stared back with shadows under large eyes. Water dripped from black hair hanging limp and long around an exhausted face. Purple and black were painted across his neck and chest and arms. Angry red, irritated and infected, cuts on brow and cheek and over the purple around his neck stood stark against pale and broken skin.

He looked like an abuse case, a war victim. Children shouldn't look like this.

Emerald eyes widened at that thought and a spike of emotions rushed over him. He was a child and he didn't feel good at all. A tremor broke across him.—Salazar yanked on the fresh shirt Godric had given him and tried to convince himself that he was just cold.

Godric stepped out of his own shower and met Salazar's eyes through the mirror. They both looked like they had gone through hell. Eleven year olds shouldn't look like that.

That thought kept echoing in his mind.

They were eleven. They needed to remember that, really remember it because Salazar, at least, kept forgetting. One day one of them was going to do something that pushed themselves too far.

"At least we're clean," said Godric as he took stock of his own bruises and cuts, "You've got a bit of catching up to do. I'll get into the details later but high level before the boys come back. The spirit might have been You-Know-Who. I and Helga collected the stone. We then destroyed it and all the evidence."

"Des'royed id?" Salazar asked, his voice cracked and throat throbbed through the entire two words. It still came out as a whisper.

His brother glanced back at him through the mirror. "We used your bag."

Salazar frowned, confused. "My bag?"

"Your heavily enchanted satchel," Godric reiterated, "We tossed the stone into the bag and it blew up. Which removed certain evidence of what happened that night...It may have also expanded the loch a little."

"You...blew up my bag?"

"Yes," the blond admitted, "I'll buy you a new one."

"My bag." whined Salazar.

Godric turned from the mirror and stared at Salazar. "Did you hit your head on top of everything else?"

"I li'ed my bag," Salazar whisper-grumbled, "You didn' blow up all my 'hings in dhe bag 'oo?"

"Of course not," huffed Godric before he tugged his shirt over his head. He added as he tugged arms through sleeves, "They're in my trunk. You need a trunk."

"I don' wan' a 'runk. I wan' my bag bac'."

"Well I blew it up. Deal with it."

Salazar scowled at his brother before another part of his explanation caught up with him. "You 'panded the loch? Wha' does dad even mean?!"

"Go take a look. It's pretty obvious," Godric said, waving through the door.

"Wonderful," the parselmouth snarked, "Anyding else you'd li'e 'o glaze over?"

"Ah, yes actually," Godric answered with a slight smirk and an outstretched hand, "The twins had a magical map. I've got it now. You'll either hate it or want to dissect it to then improve it."

Salazar tilted his head as they headed back to the main room, still using each other as crutches though Salazar was more in need than Godric. "Promising."

"I thought you'd like that." Godric dumped him onto the bed, now covered in clean sheets and blankets. The broken platter and spilled food were also gone.

"Do I ge' to see id?" he asked as he shifted so his back was against the headboard.

His fellow founder shot a grin over his shoulder as he dumped the dirty laundry. "Tomorrow, if you are very good and sleep like the healer ordered."

Salazar helpfully flashed a rude gesture in response. Godric's grin sharpened into a smirk.

The door flew open and the twins barreled in. One held two plates of food, the other had two mugs. The twin with the mugs slammed the door shut. Plates were dropped onto empty surfaces and the two red heads looked over Godric and Salazar. Their harried appearance had the founders on alert.

"Cover it!" hissed one twin, hands free of plates, as he waved his hand at his own throat, reminding Salazar of his bruises there.

Salazar stumbled up and pulled the Slytherin throw up over his shoulders and neck even as Godric stalked past to grab the yew wand from the nightstand. His brother returned to his side, angled so that the wand wasn't visible from the doorway.

The door flew open again, this time banging against the stone wall. Percy Weasley appeared, took in the room and pivoted towards Salazar.

"You!" the Weasley snapped, pointing a finger at him, "You shouldn't be here! As soon as we're allowed out, you are gone! You hear me!"

Godric scowled.

Salazar grimaced and fought the urge to rub his head. The shower had helped with his headache, the screeching of the teen had done the opposite.

"No!" The perfect pointed his finger at one of his brothers who had said something Salazar had not caught. "I'm done with your excuses for them! This was improper, against the rules, and no one has reprimanded them yet. It's terrible what happened to his parents but he shouldn't use their deaths as an excuse to go against school rules! If no one nips that in the butt, who knows what he'll start using as excuses. He'll finally become another Slytherin bullying and attacking people and claiming excuse after excuse. And getting away with it!"

Salazar stiffened at the claims and the insults. Godric shifted forward, in between him and the Weasley boy. Fred and George jumped between their brother and Godric. Percy didn't get the situation but his little brothers guessed. Admittedly, they seemed to have jumped to an extreme. Neither Godric nor he would truly harm Percy. (Rip him apart verbally was a different matter. If only he could talk properly.)

Tension filled the room as the prefect took in the shifting boys. Salazar could see the thoughts running across his face. Eventually the older boy would come to some conclusion, probably along the lines of Godric, at least, being ready to attack him. Godric was in a position to lunge at him, if the twins moved just a little.

He decided to act as the more mature person (as he was mentally) and pull the fight out from under them all. "I apologize," Salazar croaked out slowly, attempting and partly succeeding at speaking at a more normal volume. His throat ached sharply in warning.

Percy deflated in surprise. Godric's shoulder's stiffened, clearly of the opinion that Salazar wasn't the one who should be apologizing, but otherwise kept his attention on the supposed threat. The twins shot identical, bug eyed looks of disbelief back at Salazar.

Salazar chose to ignore the tweak of hurt their disbelief sparked in him. It shouldn't matter that Fred and George believed him to be the evil man from the stories but it did. They were the first people that knew who he was outside of family. He shouldn't be surprised that it mattered.

"What?" squawked Percy.

The Slytherin founder shifted out from behind Godric and nearly fell over. Godric caught him before the fall was more than an exaggerated tip of his body to the other boys. He ignored the issue and completed disrupting the heated situation. "I am really sorry." he croaked out, ignoring the scratchy pain growing in the back of his throat, "I wasn' dinking...we were. I jus–id won' happen again."

Percy was no longer outraged over the situation. The poor boy now looked uncomfortable and slightly worried. "Yes, well...Make sure you don't!" he snapped out before snapping at one of his brothers, "George get him some tea, too. That juice isn't going to do anything for him!" Then he stomped out of the room.

The door clicked closed and the founders relaxed. Godric helped Salazar back onto the bed and dropped the yew wand beside him on the nightstand. He then turned to glare at the Weasley twins.

Twin expressions of guilt met his glare and defeated it (to Salazar's amusement) as Godric scoffed and turned from the boys to claim part of his bed for himself. They were each handed over a plate full of food and a glass of water.

"Its not juice but I can get tea also," mumbled one twin.

Salazar sipped at the cold water and flinched at the sharp ache that accompanied it. "Is fine."

The twin shook his head, mumbled, "I'll get tea", and nearly flew out the door.

"Sorry," muttered the remaining twin, grudgingly, "We've been dodging everyone wondering about you two for the last few days. It finally stopped working on Perce."

Godric deflated. "Fair enough. We do appreciate the effort."

The door flew open once more and the twin returned with a steaming mug. "It's mint, hope that's alright. There aren't any caffeinated teas offered right now with it being dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Early dinner. Food will keep coming for the next couple of hours if you want anything else," the boy explained as he set the tea down at the closest end table.

Salazar pushed the food around on his plate after the first bite. It hurt to swallow spit, anything of real substance was excruciating. Godric seemed to realize there was a problem because he switched plates, having left a pile of mashed potatoes for Salazar. The mashed potatoes on Salazar's old plate was pushed onto the new one, making a large mound of the buttery fluff.

He nodded his thanks and tried to enjoy the mush. It tasted good and the heat was wonderfully uncomfortable on his throat (good and bad all at the same time) but it was no easier to swallow than spit.

One of the twins also seemed to realize the problem as he quietly offered, "I can go see if there's soup or get more smashed potatoes."

"There were smash yams, also." offered the other.

Salazar shook his head and repeated, "Is fine."

Godric took over the conversation. "Is there anything else the others explained while we were out?"

"Oh, stuff," said one twin as he waved his hands around, "They explained how possession works. Warned us to keep an eye on you two—healer's orders—and made us answer a whole bunch of random questions."

"Great," said Godric, "We'll connect with you two sometime tomorrow, then."

Both boys frowned slightly. One spoke up in complaint, "But what about You-Know-Who? And the cove?"

"He is li'ely gone," Salazar offered quietly, answering the part he understood. The face on the back of Quirrell's head could be Voldemort. The speech about returning to power, etc.,etc., fit what he knew of the dark lord.—But what cove? Expanding the loch slightly didn't equal creating a cove.

"The whole reason it was here was for the stone." agreed Godric, "It needs to find a way back to power, that's not going to be found here at Hogwarts. Not anymore."

"So, we're going to do nothing?" grumbled a twin.

"We are going to recover," Godric countered, "and go from there. You're welcome to join us in our various training sessions, though."

"And cleansing bads," added Salazar, his voice cracking with each syllable.

Godric huffed as if annoyed at himself before he added to Salazar, "They could probably use a fair few rounds of purification rituals, too."

"Rituals are illegal, dark magic," one twin snapped. The other straightened in his seat and nodded with a stubborn look at them—at Salazar.

Salazar stared at them and couldn't help but wonder what they'd say about the tattoos Godric and he had if they knew what they really were.—He had caught some of the ridiculous conversation about tattoos. They hadn't been speaking particularly quietly at the time.

The way the boy had said dark... He had known rituals were now illegal. But he hadn't considered children being taught they were evil. Salazar didn't know how he could fix that. Did everyone think rituals were evil?

"You think," Godric said slowly, with honest disbelief, "that purification rituals are evil? Do you have any idea what a purification ritual even is?"

The two shared a look before the more talkative one stated, "Pureblood nonsense."

"Your purebloods," Salazar croaked out slowly.

Both boys shifted into defensive positions, arms crossed their chest and scowls crossed their faces. "We're not pricks!"

"We like muggleborns!"

"That has nothing to do with this." Godric answered, hands flicking about as if encompassing the area, before he glancd at Salazar in bewilderment. "Right?"

Salazar sighed and nodded. "No id doesn'–" He paused and made a face. There was no way he could explain now. Salazar pressed a hand to his throat before he sighed again and looked at the two boys. "Is fine. Don' have do."

Godric frowned even as the older boys relaxed. "Consider letting us explain it later...it's good for your magic. Important...but Sal's the one that would help you with it. I'd rather he'd explain it."

"Maybe," muttered one boy while the other looked defiant. The more talkative twin tugged at his brother's arm as he rose and added, "Let's go. Lee was looking up that–" he glanced at the founders before carefully stating, "–color charm for us."

A spark of mischief appeared in the more stubborn boy and the two vanished.

Before Godric or Salazar could say or do anything else, Seamus and Dean appeared. The two boys offered them uncertain greetings after checking the door entry for pranks. Then the two skirted Godric's area and all but ignored the two founders.

Salazar shared a look with his brother, very certain he didn't want to know what the twins had done. Godric would have to deal with it. Whatever it was, he doubted his presence would help fix it either.

With the two first years present, the founders had no choice but to finish up their food and act like eleven year olds.—Godric did one thing unelevenish, he pulled out a small bandage and stuck it across the cut on Salazar's face.—Eventually they gave up and just called it a night. Neither of them could truly complain though. Relaxation and sleep would do them a world of good.

oooP3ooo

The next morning found prefects rounding all the students up, including the founders. The deputy headmistress stood at the entrance to the common room. No one noticed how the Weasley twins claimed the best seats by the fire and then gave said seats up to Salazar and Godric. Everyone was too busy guessing at what McGonagall had to tell them.

A perfect waved from each balcony on either staircase and Professor McGonagall fired a spell off, causing a sharp bang. Silence fell over the crowded common room.

"Good morning students," she said, her voice amplified by a sonorus charm, "I have a few announcements before we start our day. As many of you may have noticed or heard, there was an explosion of unknown origins at the lochside Halloween morning. The explosion awoke most of the school and the vast majority of Hogsmeade. I'm sure you will hear and read a great many rumors over the next few days."

She adjusted her square spectacles, "The ministry was informed of the disturbance by concerned Hogsmeade residents. A response team was sent here immediately after and met with us professors and the headmaster. We have worked closely together for the last few days but discerning the specifics is difficult. What we do know is the following:

"The explosion was not a result of a specific spell. There are stray elements of complex magical residue in the area and we will continue to analyze what these are. It is hypothesized that two very different artifacts were entangled and their magics had a volatile reaction. All of you investigating the possibilities of enchantments should take this as an example of what can happen when you don't know what you are doing."

She paused and looked over the various students with narrowed eyes. "No students are missing or hurt. At this time Professor Quirrell is missing and Defense Against the Dark Arts class will be supplemented by various guest speakers from the Ministry and abroad.

"Please utilize my office hours if you have any questions or insights into the situation. Classes will restart this Monday, tomorrow. You are free to wander the school and unsectioned-off grounds but please respect the visiting ministry employees, board members, and various masters here continuing the investigation. Meals will be in the Great Hall starting at lunch today." The professor looked over at them all once more but paused when she caught sight of the turtleneck covered Salazar. "Mr. Potter I expect you in my office at two today."

Salazar nodded, not wanting to raise any alarm by the sound of his voice.

"Very good." She nodded back to him before sweeping her gaze over the house once more and said, "Everyone enjoy your breakfast." She then swept out of the common room.

The children of Gryffindor house all gave him various looks but chose to fight over the breakfast buffet instead of bothering him. Only the twins seemed to notice the bowl of soup and cup of tea that appeared in front of Salazar. The twins rolled their eyes in sync at the founders when a platter of bacon and oatmeal appeared before Godric also.

"So unfair." one of them grumbled good naturedly before the two vanished into the crowd to fight their way to the food themselves.

The children chose to eat and run, so to speak. Not even their fellow first years paused to bother the founders with demands or questions. Everyone wanted out of the dormitories too much to investigate and probe for details behind the odd Slytherin camping out in the Gryffindor dorms. The changes to the loch and the ongoing investigation was much more interesting.

Salazar enjoyed the present response since he doubted he'd get the same from his own house. He followed Godric back up to the dorm once the roommates had left. They still had things to go over, to discuss and plan.

The twins tried to follow but were commandeered by the quidditch captain. Though they both looked frustrated, it was a convenient distraction for the children. He nor Godric needed them present. It would only complicate matters at the moment.

Godric called out, as they settled comfortably within the dormroom, "Mipsy."

She pop-clicked into existence between them. "Master Rie called!" She bounced around to look at them both before she gave a happy nod. "Hogsie will be so happy you both are healing! You needing anything to heal better?"

"Yes," Godric said warmly, "Thank you. We could use some of that bruise cream and anything for the swelling in Salazar's throat, if possible–" She nodded happily at that but Godric's next words caught her before she vanished. "And...I'm glad you were able to safely dispose of the stone for us. Thank you for that."

She beamed and pop-clicked away.

Salazar shot his head up at that statement. He pulled himself up and went to a window. Then he stared. The explosion had not caused a slight change. It was definitely a cove-like body. He couldn't see the details from this height but the simple fact that he could see the change from here, was enough.

"It would have killed us if we had levitated the stone into the bag," Godric said quietly from behind him. "I hadn't realized that, of course. I had asked Mipsy if she could do it so we could be as far from the scene as possible, to keep our involvement hidden. Particularly in case they found evidence of the bodies."

A pop-click announced Mipsy's return.

Salazar turned back to his brother with a short nod and looked over to the silent House elf. She had a little basket filled with potions, just like she had brought them after his trip into the lake.

"Dank you Mipsy, for every'hing...bu'," Salazar croaked out, "When we ask you 'o do some'hing dad could harm you, you are nod being ordered 'o do id. Id is your choice. Yes?"

"Of course Master Sally," Mipsy answered with a smile and a little hop, "I knew that before Master Rie asked!"

The two boys relaxed. "Good." Salazar muttered.

Godric stepped over to Mipsy and took the basket. "Could you tell us what's going on?" Godric asked as he dug through it and found the bruise cream. He twisted it open and turned to Salazar.

Salazar pulled his shirt off and lifted his head up. A shiver went down his spine as the cold cream was lathered over his neck.

"Ohhh, it be messy, messy," crowed Mipsy, her tone was one of pure joy. It pulled a grin to Salazar's lips. "Heads master be in misery with all the board and ministry here."

Godric paused to look over to Mipsy in question. He asked, "The headmaster isn't pleased with the help?"

"Nope," she said with an emphasized pop to the p. The founders shared bemused looks. They hadn't known that the headmaster was unliked by the elves.

Mipsy expanded her statement with glee, "Heads master has never liked anybody nosing about Hogwarts. He thinks Hogwarts business is his business and so no one else is to know but he's been sticking his nose in Master Sally's business! Hogsie be mad now that she knows about it. So Heads master being in misery makes Hogsie happy."

Godric and Salazar shared another look.

"Do you have...any de'ails?" Salazar hesitantly asked, "abou' now, I mean."

"Up," Godric ordered softly, having finished with the cream on Salazar's chest and arms. Salazar rose from the bed and turned around.

"Mipsy doesn't have much. Only knows that the bodies haven't been found and that Heads master hasn't looked into the third floor's right corridor beyond making sure the first door be locked," she said, "The governors be arguing over the replacement defense professor. Mater Laelia and Pater Malfoy have both raised concerns over Heads master being heads master but he's convinced Mater Laelia to trust him."

"Done." Godric said.

Salazar turned around and took the jar of cream as Godric frowned thoughtfully at Mipsy. He ordered Godric, "Your turn, shir' off."

His brother pulled his pajamas shirt off as he asked, "Do you know how he convinced Mater Laelia?"

Mipsy shook her head quickly, her foot scuffed across the floor and hands went behind her back as she rushed out, "Mipsy doesn't know! We don't listen in on Heads master's conversations. We only enter Heads master's office when called."

"Doesn't Hogwar's know?" Salazar croaked out, looking back at her as he smeared cream across Godric's shoulder.

"Hogsie be hard of hearing in places," she said with a shrug.

"Hard of hearing?" Godric repeated, voice tinted with the same bewilderment Salazar felt.

Mipsy gave another shrug as she said, "Heads master's office be covered in layers and layers of magic and-and not Hogwarts stuff."

Salazar stopped and stared at her. "No' Hogwar's wha?"

"Rooms be redecorated with plasters and things...Heads master's room is changed lots."

The two founders shared a look. Salazar felt a little better that Godric looked as confused as he felt.

"Right...we'll look into that." Godric said finally, "Is there anything else?"

She bounced in place as she answered, "No Master Rie, that be all! Call me if more be needed." The House elf pop-clicked away.

"Right," breathed Godric before he changed topics, "So answers."

"Ques'ions?" Salazar croaked back as he finished covering Godric in the cream and closed the jar.

Godric rolled his eyes and turned to the basket of potions. "I meant, we need to go find more answers." His brother pulled out a vial and held it out. "For the swelling."

"Where do?" Salazar asked as he took it and snorted at the label. Mipsy had stuck a piece of paper on top saying it was for swelling and noting how much he should actually take. He flipped the note up, curious of the actual label. EXPEL-EDEMA. Unlike the others he had seen, this one also had a warning symbol of some type.

"I need a half a 'easpoon."

"Hmmm…" Godric took the vial back and pushed a cloth into his hand instead. "Here, the cleanser for your cuts."

"Thanks." Salazar muttered. The nail marks and cut on his cheek burned and sizzled as he pressed the cloth to them. His scar had already scabbed over so he barely felt anything there. He found the ESNC-DIT in the basket and dabbed some of the dittany extract onto another sanitized cloth while Godric carefully dug through his trunk. The dittany helped close the little cuts. It was unlikely any would leave a scar.

"I know I have a teaspoon...but a half of one?" groused Godric.

Salazar looked back out the window, feeling more drained than ever. A swarm of children were hanging around, just outside the sectioned off area. Most of the school was out there.

"Here."

He turned and found a tiny spoon held out to him. It was about half full of the potion. Salazar took it with a raised brow.

Godric huffed. "Don't got a half a teaspoon."

The tiny amount of potions tasted sour and rotten. Salazar couldn't help the expression he made. Something kept him from even attempting to throw it up though.

"I'm going to keep all these things. At the rate you're going, we're going to need it all. No reason to have Mipsy constantly sneaking potions out of the hospital wing for us," Gryffindor stated as he looked over the vials and jars once more. "Pepperup. Need any?"

"No," Salazar said. He blinked and Godric looked up with a raised brow. His voice was already noticeably less hoarse. It even hurt slightly less to speak. "So what now?"

His brother grinned and dug back into his trunk, the basket vanishing into its depths. "I was thinking the Headmaster's office. We might find some answers there, if we can get in without anyone aware," he called out before rising and holding out an old folded up parchment to Salazar. "Push some magic onto it and say 'I solemnly swear I'm up to no good'."

Laughter echoed through him as his fingers pressed into the parchment. Honey sweetness with a surprise burst of the tang of citrus filled his mouth. Salazar tightened his hold as he pushed a tiny amount of magic into the parchment. The words Godric told him to say died on his tongue as voices rang out in his head, whispering of pranks and jokes long done, long past. Mischievous grins on young faces strangely familiar filtered through his vision.

Salazar forced himself to focus and say the words to activate the magic. It only crossed his mind that it might not be the best idea as the last word fell from his lips. After all, the magic of the object was already consuming his senses. What would it do when active?

Intensify.

A dog's bark joined the laughter. A wolf howled. Four creatures ran through the dark hallways of Hogwarts—a stag, a wolf, a dog, and a rat.—Magic danced across the Great Hall, staining children's skin various school colors to horror and joy and laughter abound. Prank after prank, done all over Hogwarts, filtered through his mind's inner eye.

Hogwarts hugged him. He felt it twice over as the magic of the map was entwined with her. It pulled him from the depth of the map's magic but, at the same time, yanked him deeper. Hogwarts was tied to the map and the map was tied to Hogwarts. That intertwining of sentient magic made the map hold onto things, to memories, a little more tightly than other magic.

It took Hogwarts wrapping him in multiple magical hugs to pull him from the sensory overload. He was pulled far enough away from it to be able to feel the actual enchantments done to create the map.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked over the physical map that appeared. It had a great deal of potential. He could feel the various charms embedded into the ink used to create the map. A few were embedded into the parchment for preservation but those were likely pre-existing before the map was created. Some were childish things, insults geared towards specific magical auroras and revealing spells cast onto the object. Others were almost geniusly crafted and twisted to the will of it's originator—or originators as he could almost taste four distinct magics woven within the object. (Sharp grins flashed through his mind once more.)

Surprisingly, the map did show Godric and himself even though they both had gone through rituals to protect against such tracking. It was a weakness of their ritual. Something he would have to investigate and craft a supplementary ritual to fix the issue. The caster had taken the Homenum Revelio charm, a homing signal charm, and–

Godric pulled the map from his hands. Salazar startled as he looked up. His brother stared back with distinct annoyance.

"What?" he demanded.

"Have you heard anything I've said?"

Salazar opened and closed his mouth a few times but no retourt came to mind. He couldn't recall anything Godric might have said after he had taken the map.

The Gryffindor shifted the parchment so Salazar could see what he was pointing at. "The headmaster is out by the cove. I say we visit his office."

"Ah, well we should–"

"No, you don't get a say in the plan. I planned it all over the last ten minutes," Godric snapped, "If you wanted a say, you should have paid attention." With that, Godric yanked Salazar up and dragged him out the door. "I'll keep the map. You can have it tomorrow, when I don't need to talk to you."

oooP4ooo

The map helpfully revealed the present password for the Headmaster's office by creating a little thought bubble when they stopped before the statue. (Or at least Salazar knew it was a thought bubble like in a muggle comic, Godric called it a cloud when he pointed it out.) The password was a wizarding sweet.

And, of course, it worked. Why would the headmaster use a more secure password? No one would think to break into his office—the very thought.

Various portraits that surrounded the griffin statue, guarding said office, gave rather strange looks at the two but Salazar knew the paintings would soon forget about the entire event. Five minutes from now none would be able to tell any details about the students that entered. Ten minutes and they wouldn't be able to say anything beyond two people had entered. Fifteen minutes and the entire event would be gone.

At the password given, the griffin statue twisted about, revealing stairs that lead up into what had once been the founders meeting room. They paused at the top of the stairs. It was unlikely the headmaster would leave a simple password as the only security measure.

Salazar frowned thoughtfully as he considered the worn, wooden door. He could place another disruption runic array, similar to what he had placed on the hospital doors all those nights ago. He didn't exactly feel up to doing any magic in general but another headache would be a minor side effect compared to the answers they would likely find within.

Before he could offer, Godric called out, "Hogwarts, would you be a dear?"

Salazar raised a brow at his brother. "Be a dear about what?" The wall shifted and a secondary door materialized by the existing one, answering his question. "That...I'll have to remember that option. How did you think of it?"

A warm, slight feeling, like he was being tapped on the nose, was followed by the feel of a hug. He frowned; Hogwarts found him cute...endearing? Salazar pushed the feeling back and projected a scowl. He did not need his castle thinking him cute. A bubble of laughter filtered through the bond in response.

His brother, unaware of the by-play between Salazar and Hogwarts, answered with a huff. "Well when you can't access your magic easily and are dangerously close to exhaustion anyway, you think creatively."

"Ah," Salazar nodded in understanding, and very firmly ignored the fact that he had been planning to just grit his teeth through the discomfort of over exerting himself.

Godric took the lead as they entered through the secondary door. Their old meeting room was indiscernible within the room they entered. Only the general shape of the place felt familiar, though it was almost half the size of the original room. The walls were painted, not just stone, and were absolutely covered in portraits of sleeping elders and bookshelves. Tables with more books and odd implements that spurted colored smoke, soft whistles, and bubbles surrounded a large ornate, oaken desk. An empty metal bird stand with a lower platform to catch it's droppings sat in a corner by one of the windows. Oriental rugs covered the stone floor, filling the room with a predominately red and gold color scheme, though blue and bronze was also apparent. Someone had installed a second story that housed a ridiculously large telescope and orrery. A wrought iron spiral staircase led up to the small second story.

"Fucking thing ruins the view," Godric grumbled as he stepped further into the room.

Salazar followed as he tried to spy anything else interesting. There was a little alcove to one side and a door that likely led to the headmaster's bedroom and the other half of their old meeting room.

"What is the meaning of this!" cried out one of the portraits. Other portraits woke and joined in the outcry. The two founders ignored them as they wandered around the room.

The alcove had even more books and a set of wingback chairs before a fireplace. A life sized portrait above the mantel was what caught his attention, though. "Godric, look. It's you!" Salazar announced with a laugh, deciding now was the time to point out the ridiculous thing. The other portrait in the Gryffindor commons would have worked just as well, if he had thought they would ever be alone for him to bring it up.

Silence filled the room, not that the founders noticed as Godric appeared by his side and made a face at the sight. "Not funny Sally."

"But Godric, they got your hair and blue eyes—I'm sure you gained a bit of weight after I died–"

"Yes, yes," snarked Godric, "It's just missing my freckles and my height, actual clothing of our time period, and, oh, an accurate depiction of me, at all."

"It's obviously you. There's a plaque that says so." Salazar pointed out with a smirk. "And I've got a chocolate frog card to back up its claim!"

Godric huffed and folded his arms across his chest. "I hate you."

"Yes," Salazar agreed with a pat on his brother's back, "You remind me all the time."

Sniggers filtered through the room from a bookshelf. The two returned to the main area to investigate.

Godric lit up at the sight of his much loved hat. "Alfie!"

Salazar slowed to give Godric a bemused look. "You named it?"

Godric pulled the hat off the shelf and proceeded to look it over with care. "Of course we named it, we gave it an intelligence."

"Helga helped then?"

"Yes, Master Salazar," the hat stated cheerfully, "Master Godric and Mistress Helga discussed at great length before they concluded Alfred would be the best option."

"It's an excellent name." agreed Godric before he plopped the hat over his head.

Salazar snorted and picked up one of the puffing trinkets as he waited out the silent conversation suddenly happening between hat and creator. He tilted his head at the influx of knowledge. There was an alert enchantment entwined to the trinket and to another enchantment covering some unknown area which was to inform the headmaster of any spirits that enter said area.

How very interesting.

He picked up another trinket and listened to its secrets before he moved on to another and another. So many secrets, so many places of interest to the headmaster. Salazar couldn't help but wonder how many alerts were legally placed and what made these unknown plots of land so interesting to the man.

One of the larger trinkets gave him pause when he pressed fingers against its base. Old magic, with too many flavors for one spellcaster, rolled over his tongue. It was not an alert enchantment nor one Dumbledore had created himself. Salazar's brow furrowed as he tried to understand what the enchantment did but he couldn't tell.

He slowly traced invisible threads about the little, though immovable statue. It felt like thousands of spiderwebs wrapped about the object. Whoever had created the enchantment had layered it onto the thing instead of working the magic into the metal as it was crafted.

The parselmouth pressed his lips together thin as he felt another enchantment. Slowly he traced the invisible threads of magic away from the statue and to another little trinket. As he did, the feeling of one old enchantment gave way to the feeling of an even older enchantment. The two had been crossed, and entangled, though he couldn't tell if that was on purpose or not. They might have been too similar and so their magics had slowly woven together and canceled each other out over the years. But no one had noticed because they were both still there and, at least, this second one had been renewed recently.

"Stop touching things!" squealed one of the portraits as Salazar pressed a hand to the second trinket.

Salazar ignored the demand as he traced the base to see if he could find some other answers. He stilled, eyes widened before narrowing in outrage. The primary enchantments were sitting on top of his wards. These little statues were just the enchantments cornerstones, so to speak.

"You aren't allowed to touch that!" insisted another portrait, "Only we headmasters are allowed!"

There was nothing the enchantments appeared to be doing. They were just some useless magic helping weigh down the wards. He would be a blithering idiot to leave them there.

The Slytherin founder reached out mentally with a thin hook like strand of his magic, ignoring the ache the spread across his chest, and hooked onto a piece of the entwined enchantments. He slowly pulled back and began to unwind the useless layers of magic.

As he did so, the enchantments vague structure glowed into a visible knotted mess of magic about the two little statues. There were places with the enchantments weave was still visible but most of it was just a mess.

"How are you doing that?" gasped one portrait. Others made similar sounds of awed confusion.

Another huffed out, "That is a simple curse breaker trick! Nothing shocking–"

"–He's eleven at most!" countered another, "He shouldn't be able to do that at all! And without a wand–"

"It's a trick of the light. He's got his wand tucked up his sleeve, obviously."

"I don't think–"

"You never think!"

"Will the lot of you shut it?!" snapped Salazar, green eyes flashing up at them all in annoyance.

"Well I never!" gasped one of the ladies, "You need to learn how to talk to your betters young man!"

Salazar made an aggrieved sound and tugged a little too hard on the enchantments. The strands of magic pulled taut and more layers and magic was pulled by it from other objects. All of it was entangled in places he hadn't noticed on his short investigation. Salazar stared at the hundred or so little trinkets lit up with an absolute nightmare of entwined enchantments. All of these enchantments, interconnected as they were, had to be sitting on top of his wards. They were the weight and mess of color he had seen.

There was no way he could safely remove all of them without unraveling the knotted mess first. This was too much magic to just yank apart and release into the world. His wards might not be able to handle the strain of that release.

He unhooked the magic and looked about the mess of objects. The glowing mess faded from sight. "What the bleeding hell is all this?"

"That is none of your concern, boy." scoffed one of the older portraits.

"I think I have a right to know what all you've done to my wards." He hissed out as he looked up at the various portraits. "Ruining the protection of Hogwarts is counter of any oath of offi–"

"Your wards?!" scoffed a woman from her seat in a tall, severe chair, "The wards were causing children's trunks to burst into flames! Something had to be done–"

"Some of the children weren't able to enter through them at all!" squawked another portrait.

Salazar scowled. "You've all but destroyed my wards that you clearly have no understanding of–"

A portrait smacked his hand loudly against a table painted at his side. "All children are allowed to learn!"

"And you've no idea the number of heirlooms that were being destroyed," snapped the woman in the severe chair, "The amount of money we had to give for reparations of damage was astronomical!"

"I," sniffed another painted person, the one that had recognized what Salazar had been doing to make the enchantments visible, "did not destroy any wards. I spent years researching curse breaking—clearly there was a dangerous curse hidden within the wards. Expected since Salazar Slytherin was the one to build them. My enchantment burrows into the wards to capture the curse–"

"Burrows." Salazar repeated, both horrified and intrigued.

"The only thing I ever did was recreate what protection I could," insisted a dumpy little wizard in a painting style older than most. He leaned forward in his rush to explain. "After the war and how the giants took out the inner wall–"

"Oh shut up Marvin!" screeched a young, for the group present, woman, "you're always blaming the poor creatures! It was the Dark Lord Uffer and his alliance with the goblins that made it possible to destroy part of the wards."

Salazar felt his eyebrow twitch as more and more portraits spouted off on their own experience with his wards and the decision to alter it without an ounce of understanding of ward creation. Many of the complaints stemmed from ignorance (as far as he could tell). Some, though, seemed to actually complain of another headmaster's "fix". Most of their fixes were enchantments and charms and even curses they decided to layer over the wards. Some of them were on the broken inner wall instead. A number sounded like their magic was literally intertwining into his wards to mangle some aspect of his wards abilities.

He pressed a palm to his forehead and looked at the mess of trinkets. How many enchantments did it take to cause the pressure he had felt bearing down on his wards?

The living headmaster must be renewing the mess of magic every few years. Salazar glared narrow eyed at the offending trinkets as he considered all that.

To fix the wards he needed to take them down. To take them down he needed to remove all these enchantments and spells. If he didn't, it all was more than likely to collapse on itself and Hogwarts and Hogesmeade were under it all. That mess of magic failing could cause massive damage.

He would have to remove the enchantments and then the wards. At least he knew where to find these enchantments. He just had to hunt through the trinkets to find all of it and go from there...after he figured out a way to toss Dumbledore from the castle for an extended period of time.

Maybe Hogwarts could just lock him out of this room?

He flicked his gaze back to Godric. His brother had clearly been half listening to them since his head was tilted in their portraits direction. The hat was still firmly in place though, so whatever conversation they were having wasn't done.

Salazar turned back to the trinkets and moved toward a different section to investigate. He hissed when he picked up another trinket at random. It was an alert tied to startling familiar magic. This was the alert entangled with the enchantment protections around Privet Drive. This was the final proof that Dumbledore was involved with the mess surrounding his family.

"Sally?" Godric asked, "Is that one particularly bad for the wards?"

He looked up with a scowl. Said scowl faded at the sight of the sorting hat flopped onto Godric's head, held up by his ears. It was much too large. Salazar shook his head and set the trinket back into place.

"No...This is tied to the supposed protection enchantments surrounding my relative's house."

"Supposed?" Godric asked, his good cheer faded at Salazar's tone.

The parselmouth snapped his emerald gaze back to his brother. "I've never told you?"

"Not that I recall."

"I wouldn't have told you before I knew you were you," Salazar said as he waved off the possibility that he had said anything to Godric when he had been simply little Neville. Though kind and a joy to be around, he had been but a child in the scheme of things. (And still very much part of Godric, Salazar reminded himself.) "Someone, most probably the headmaster, decided to place protection enchantments based upon blood of the mother—my mother—over the house I claimed as a hom–"

"Didn't you live with muggles?" Godric interrupted.

"Yes."

"What idiot uses an enchantment based on blood relations when there's no adult magical relative around?" Scowled Godric, reminding Salazar that his brother had been stuck in as many Rowena lectures as himself. "Your magic?"

"There doesn't appear to be any permanent harm, though the damage isn't entirely gone." Salazar waved his hand as if to discard Godric's concerns. His core wasn't nearly as bad off as Godric's. "But the same cannot be said of my relatives."

He heaved a sigh and leaned back against the headmaster's desk. "My aunt should have been considered a witch but her core…I have never seen such damage before. It's not from the enchantment though, it's older than the protections the headmaster placed. My cousin, on the other hand, would have been a wizard, should have been a wizard...His core isn't as damaged as his mother's but it is irreparable."

Salazar's expression hardened. "If someone with an actual understanding of enchantments had been involved, or if he had done the intelligent thing and placed me with other magical relatives, this would not have happened."

"Albus Dumbledore is a great man, " squeaked a portrait, reminding the founders of their audience.

Salazar snapped his gaze over to the elderly wizard. "Albus Dumbledore possesses a Mastery in Transfiguration. Pray tell, how does that translate into being capable of enchanting?"

The Slytherin founder waved his hand over the various instruments he had been snooping through as he continued to explain sharpily, "Most of these he created are weak little things. The worst part of many are the inevitability that the external enchantment they're tied to would have to break to untangle the alert enchantment. That would likely trigger the alert enchantment before it could be untangled. I'm sure he thinks it an ingenious setup but its all done from a poor understanding of interconnecting separate magical structures together into a coexisting balance of power–"

"Your point has been made." Godrc stated cheerfully as he clapped Salazar's shoulder, interrupting his rant. "We've gotten some answers. Now we need to collect the answers we actually came for." The blond glanced over the Marauders map. "Luckily, he's still at the cove."

Alfred chipped in, "Well, I can give some of those answers."

"You can't!" cried a portrait of a rotund old man with a ridiculously tall hat, higher up the wall than the last one, "None of us can reveal the Headmaster's secrets."

"Oh shut up, you blithering idiot," snapped yet another portrait. This one was of a tall, broad set man with salt and peppered hair and an European, aristocratic shape to his features.

More portraits explode with noisy outrage at the insult to their fellow.

The aristocratic one sneered as he shouted out, "Have none of you paid any mind? Have none of you kept your senses? I, for one, will not get in the way of the two here. If none of you realize why, that's your problem. I hope Hogwarts wipes your damn canvases clean for insubordination."

"Insubordination!" scoffed out a rather bird-like woman. Her square, feathered hat did not help. "Why Phineas, I never thought you'd believe a bunch of rule breaking children."

"Dexter has the right of it. It's entirely impossible for them to be who they claim to be," agreed another portrait.

"On your heads. I look forward to a less cluttered mess to stare out to." Sneered Phineas before he leaned back in his chair and, for all appearance, fell asleep.

Neither founder believed for a second the painting was actually asleep, though. The other portraits seemed to agree if their continued shouts and complaints about Phineas indicated anything.

Godric raised a brow at Salazar and made a slight hand motion implying that the past heads of their school were a tad crazy. Salazar gave a short nod of agreement and then pulled the sorting hat off the blond's head.

He asked the hat as he set him onto the headmaster's desk, "You were saying, Alfred?"

The hat's folds shifted into a weird sort of grin. "Indeed, indeed.. I was saying…" It cleared its voice. The complaints and shouts grew even louder.

Godric finally snapped, "Shut it!"

Silence reigned. The vast majority of the portraits stared in open, dawning horror. Phineas looked terribly pleased with himself, having immediately stopped pretending to sleep at the sudden silence. Some were attempting to continue their outcry but no sound escaped their painted mouths.

"You are full of useful tricks today, Godric," Salazar announced, impressed but mostly amused. He had done nearly the same thing but he had phrased it as a request instead of the order Godric had given. Salazar would remember that.

Godric flicked a flat sort of look at Salazar before he turned to his hat. "They're tied to Hogwarts somehow?"

"Yes sir," Alfred explained, "All the portraits and paintings are tied to Hogwarts. It was done to give an added boost to their preservation and animation enchantments. The headmaster paintings here needed that boost most since they've all been specially crafted to carry some of the memories and knowledge of the person they represent. The side effect of them obeying the Headmaster was a pleasant surprise. Only a few looked into it enough to realize that the headmaster had the ability because he or she was given a lesser form of your power over the magic that makes up this castle. None realized it gave Hogwarts herself ultimate power of the things either.

"In essence, they are yours to command. Though someone might notice if they start acting too oddly. I, myself fall under some of the same magics but my own enchantments give me some level of independence–"

"Unless someone decides to mess with your enchantments themselves, such as adding a few tweaks to force you to sort students a certain way," drawled Salazar as he recalled the details of magic on the sorting hat, "Do you believe anyone would notice if I removed those alterations?"

Alfred slumped, curves of its folds turned down into an impression of a frown. "The newest was done by Albus," Alfred said quietly, "He is also aware of the rest."

"So that's a yes?" sighed Salazar, annoyed at the fact.

"Yes."

"What are the alterations?" demanded Godric.

Salazar flicked his hands out in irritation as he explained, "Some emphasize a child's qualities, like their self esteem or blood relations, to determine which house to place them in...The newest forces the hat to look for any hint of relations to Death Eaters–"

"If I find any, I must place the child within Slytherin. Albus forced the enchantment onto me not long after your parents' deaths, Master Salazar. Apparently he didn't care for the traitor being a Gryffindor. He wanted to mitigate both the dispersal of children influenced by such evil people—his words. They're children, they aren't evil!—and decrease the chance of their children interacting with you on a personal level," said the hat.

It smirked suddenly, its hat point perked back upright as Alfred remarked with clear amusement, "Sent him panicking when you were sorted into Slytherin. He was scrambling for weeks to find a way to shift his plans to direct you through his challenges without anyone the wiser. He started to also consider the possibility of some prophecy being about Neville, Master Godric, instead.

"But you pulled through for him." The hat's tone turned sarcastic. "All it took was Severus Snape following his orders to segregate you. Then you declined to even attempt to interact and work with Slytherins and ran off to the other houses, settling for some only 'slightly troublesome' Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Of course, you took a step further to the 'light' by accepting Gryffindors into your life, particularly various Weasleys. He wasn't nearly as thrilled about your growing bond with Mr. Longbottom since that apparently placed all his options in one spot, whatever that means."

Salazar gritted his teeth. Hands curled into fists. He was furious—furious at the headmaster but more furious at himself.

Had the headmaster manipulated him? He had always planned to interact with all the houses. Perhaps it wasn't so much manipulation directly at Salazar. He would have noticed, wouldn't he have?

Perhaps it was a slyer type. Salazar frowned as he considered it all. Dumbledore, if he did have such power over Snape, had manipulated the entire Slytherin house into avoiding and ignoring Salazar. Salazar had chosen not to deal with that hurdle immediately. It would have been near impossible to deal with as a first year, after all. At least, that's what he had decided back when he reached the conclusion that the war had never ended.

And it hadn't, had it? Draco's reaction implied as much. Voldemort was still somehow around, even.

Still, it rankled him that he had allowed it to occur, hadn't even questioned the matter. The potion master's actions had been strange. The fact that every single Slytherin followed his lead had been disgusting. But he hadn't looked into it. He should have, if only to understand the present dynamics of his house.

Instead, he had assumed things. There had been other issues to worry about but that should have never been an excuse, no matter how true. Children were at stake here.

A hand clapped his back. "It's only just turned to November, Sally," Godric said quietly, "We've been here for barely two months. You've plenty of time to handle this."

Salazar stared at his brother as he tried to reign in his rage. Godric was right. He forced his thoughts on a different part of the hat's exposition, "There's a prophecy?"

"And, he'd definitely notice some of the older spells being removed from you?" Added Godric, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Yes," Alfred answered, "to both your questions. I've never heard the prophecy but it has come up in various conversations with Severus Snape and during Albus's various rambling brainstorm sessions he has. As for the alterations, he's a trinket or two tied to them as alerts. I don't know which they are."

Salazar hummed as he turned back to the room and picked up another random trinket. He frowned as he realized this particular one was tied to the alert enchantments on Hogwarts' inner walls. He looked up from the table and glanced over the room. "This will take too long."

Godric made an annoyed sound before he demanded, "What challenges did the man set up and why?"

The hat sort of shrugged. "He had it all planned out. Harry Potter was supposed to be sorted into Gryffindor. He would connect to Hagrid because of something before the school term began. Then Albus was going to feed rumors of various facts to Harry Potter and any of his friends. These rumors would lead the boy to eventually attempt the obstacles in the forbidden corridor on the third floor. They were all built for a first year with a good head on his shoulders and, perhaps a few good friends. He doesn't expect Harry Potter to succeed entirely. Not at first, at least. But it would be a good gauge for the boy's capabilities."(2)

"He also," explained Phineas from his portrait, "thought it a grand idea to let slip what was being protected amongst various disreputable friends of his. I believe he had the idea that the whispers might unearth the weakened dark lord; bring him to Hogwarts eventually–"

The hat jumped in and added even as Phineas continued to speak, "Second or third year, I think is the estimate."

"–where Albus could mastermind a confrontation between Harry Potter and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It would be a confrontation to help cement the concept of conflict and adversity to the boy and a–"

"stepping stone towards The-Boy-Who-Lived understanding that he must die to allow the world to survive," finished the hat, clearly quoting the man.

"Forbidden corridor?" asked Salazar. It sounded vaguely familiar. He couldn't recall why though.

"Over my dead body," snarled Godric at the same time.

Salazar snapped his head towards his brother at hearing such a tone. "Godric–"

The room grew warm and Godric's eyes seemed lighter in color.

"I watched you die on me once. Once is one too many times, Salazar. If one of us has to fucking die on the other, it's me on you this time around," Godric snapped out.

Salazar's expression darkened at the claim. "Like hell I'd let you just die in my place!"

The two stared, silently fighting each other with equally sharp glares. Air grew hot and stifling until a sharp breeze ruffled through the room in an almost circular motion. A few parchments on the desk curled under the growing heat and shifted across the desk.

Finally, Godric relaxed and offered Salazar a minor consolation. "I don't plan on dying before wrinkled and old; certainly not until after you've found a lass to knock up and continue your damn House proper this time around."

"Maybe I'll take agess to find that woman, then," hissed Salazar, still annoyed and not entirely considering the implications that he had just agreed to impregnate a random woman until after he said it. Salazar valiantly continued to glare at Godric all the while ignoring his reddening face.

"You do that." Godric snarked back, a smirk growing as the edge of his outrage faded.

Silence fell after that confrontation, the hat and portraits all looking slightly awkward at witnessing such an argument, short as it was. It was as close and yet as far from any imagined argument they could have considered between these two Hogwart founders. It left so many questions for the headmasters and mistresses. None of them seemed brave enough to ask any, though. (Only a couple of them could talk anyhow.)

"The headmaster," said Alfred, breaking the awkward moment. Both founders turned towards him and the desk, both having forgotten where they were. Godric stepped up to the desk and picked up the scattered parchment as Alfred continued, "warned the entire student body about the forbidden corridor during the opening feast. He told them to enter was to lead to a painful death, if I recall properly."

Salazar grimaced at the explanation and stuffed his hands into his robe pockets to keep from fidgeting. He could remember now, vaguely.

"Why didn't you take care of it earlier?" Godric asked, hazel eyes flicked up to look at Salazar as he reorganized the papers.

He shifted (not squirmed!) at the look. "I haven't taken care of it at all," he muttered, looking away from Godric.

Godric huffed. "I went through it to get the stone. There's one entrance, simple enough to ward."

"Ah." Salazar muttered. He met the scowling glare of a headmistress portrait of what looked like a sweet little grandma. Green eyes snapped back to his brother, feeling even more uncomfortable. Even little dead grandmas hated him.

His brother raised his brows in question, attention fully on Salazar but clearly not able to mind read his thoughts. Salazar sighed and reluctantly admitted under the stare of nosey portraits, "I...that night is somewhat blurred together. The wards and Hogwarts forcefully anchored bonds into my core. I'm still amazed I stayed awake at all."

Godric grimaced. "Fun. I guess I get to look forward to a headache when Hogwarts bonds with me?"

"Yes, once you've recalled your memories as Neville."

Godric frowned at the reminder, turned to glare around the room before he pulled out the enchanted map, and cursed. "The headmaster is headed this way."

Alfred was placed back on his shelf. Trinkets were double checked for any obvious handling. Papers were shifted just slightly out of their orderly stack at Alfred's recommendation. Hogwarts made another door appear for them, though it had taken them almost shouting right by the real entrance for her to apparently hear Godric.

Salazar paused with a hiss. "Weren't we here to ask about how Dumbledore convinced that Mater that he had this all in hand?"

Godric glanced back at him at his hiss. He already had the door open."Oh..uh, Alfie said the conversation didn't happen here." His eyes caught onto the various portraits, Salazar turned to look at them also and found rows of bewilderment and glares directed at them. Godric ordered, "No dispensing of any information through any means, to anyone or thing about us being here, and being alive, and even what you learned and heard and saw when we were present within this room today. You may speak and act normally otherwise."

Reluctant nods from the portraits were the last they saw of the room. They slipped out and vanished back into the Gryffindor dormitory soon after.

oooPooo

1. Broþor & fadar are old english...or old saxon for brother and father. I failed to note down which language it was and a quick search hints that I might have used old english for brother and old saxon for father...

2. So please keep in mind the limited povs and cannon before jumping up and down saying I'm bashing Dumbledore. Rowling literally has this near the end of the first book:

"D'you think [Dumbledore] meant you to do it?" said Ron. "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"
"Well," Hermione exploded, "if he did — I mean to say — that's terrible — you could have been killed."
"No it isn't," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could…."(SS302)

While we can argue all we want about how much eleven year olds had figured out Dumbledore's intentions, we also have to admit that Rowling was writing to children and this was her first published book. We can almost guarantee that this was put in the book to establish Dumbledore's mechanisms and ability to predict Voldie's actions. Does that make Dumbledore evil…well it makes his moral compass questionable but as I noted to someone in a comment, Dumbledore grew up in the 1800s, not the 1900s. That needs to be considered also. It doesn't excuse it, but it could explain it.

Anyway, point is, I'm not planning to make Dumbledore anything but cannon like at this point. Rowling does a wonderful job turning the wise sage that Dumbledore starts out as into a real human, with flaws and all. I have every plan to make Dumbledore that human.

Salazar hasn't done anything that would cause Dumbledore to act differently, by the way. Nothing Salazar has done has reached Dumbledore's attention beyond being sorted "wrong" but hanging out with the "right" kids. So Dumbledore is still the faint figurehead we see in book one here.

I have to warn you that I do think Rowling shows Dumbledore is both manipulative and incapable of spreading important facts amongst people he supposedly trusts. So that is likely going to show up. Still doesn't make him evil but some of his decisions or lack of decisions make for interesting conflict, I think. So yes, Sal and Godric aren't fans of Dumbledore but they aren't fans of any of the headmasters and mistresses of Hogwarts so far and they don't actually know anything about Dumbledore as a person. They are absolutely biased about it all and it shows.

It's going to be so entertaining writing all three of them together eventually. :)