Recruitment
Salazar Slytherin describes Slytherin House values to the first batch of Hogwarts students.
Salazar stood in front of the new students, a charismatic force of nature. He made a grand flourish and then stood stock still, arms outstretched, his resonant voice filling the space of the Great Hall. "Who will tell me their favorite taste?"
The students were transfixed. And silent.
"Come now...is it roast venison perhaps, that first succulent taste of hot meat in your mouth? Or perhaps candied pears, the delicate sweetness cascading across your tongue? Or perhaps the spicy bite of ginger root, its heat building against your teeth?"
"Apples just picked," called a tentative voice.
"Fresh bread hot from the oven."
"Peppermint tea made just for me."
"A bite of meat pie I stole from a cook trying to brain me with a frying pan." This last voice was defiant, daring anyone to judge her.
Salazar's smile illuminated the hall, falling like a beam of rippling sunlight on the girl. "It seems we may share similar tastes, my young friend." His gaze turned out to capture the rest of the students. "Do you all want to know my favorites?"
Young heads bobbed in unison, mesmerized.
"I love the taste of victory after a battle thought lost, the taste of conquering those who would hurt me and mine. I love the taste of my will carving events into the shapes I would make them. I love the taste of power, the power to live as I am without fear of what I am. The power to save who I can from fates they don't deserve. The power to change the world for the better." He paused, letting the rolling chords of his voice echo. "I'm looking for those who would have similar tastes to be members of my house."
Possibility curled around the hall amidst a wave of churning imaginations and utter adulation.
Salazar bowed to the students. They inclined their heads back, as one.
Godric whistled low. "Damned hard to top that pitch," he muttered. "Sal always was the consummate performer."
Rowena's lips flicked up. "Well, you best try. You're up next."