A/N: Anything you recognize (characters, setting, etc.) belongs to J.K. Rowling. Everything else is mine.
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Chapter Nine
Rule #9 of the Timekeeper's Code: Never become involved with a person in the past.
The passion that struck was unlike anything she'd ever felt and it was Althea—not Salazar—who took the kiss to the next level. His hands dug into her hips as hers wrapped around his shoulders. One of his hands came up to brush away hair and touch her cheek. A part of her mind understood the absurdity and consequences of the moment, but she swiftly pushed it aside in favor of getting a fistful of his dark hair. He groaned and it was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard. They pulled away for a breath and he brought her back for more.
She wasn't sure how long it lasted: seconds, hours, eons. All she knew was the taste of his lips and the feel of his body against hers. The irony of it was that she was a Timekeeper having trouble keeping track of time because of this man. He drove her crazy, but she didn't care. It was all she wanted and more.
When they did finally break apart, Salazar smiled and stepped away. He kept a hand on her lower back. "What spell have you cast on me?"
For a moment she worried that he was serious, but the trickster's grin said otherwise. "I was wondering the same thing."
"From the moment you arrived my life has been turned upside down. What am I to do?"
"Run away," she said. It seemed like her emotions were a livewire as a few stray tears threatened to escape. It was cruel. How could she have this—have him—and return to the future? It wasn't possible. They weren't possible.
"I'm afraid that I can't."
"Why not?"
"Something about you speaks to me, mysterious Althea, and I want to know more."
She reached forward to kiss him again. It was the last weakness she'd give into, the last moment she would forget her duty. Then she turned away and closed the door. Slumping against the wood, she let the tears fall.
#
Breakfast was a miserable affair. Helga had shown up at her door at sunrise, insisting that she continue training and practice despite being 'finished' because "a day without is a day wasted." After more running, swordplay, and tree-climbing they'd gone into breakfast with the other founders and students. Althea avoided Salazar's eyes and sat down at the other end of the table. Gryffindor seemed to think that her game of ignoring meant that she was playing coy with him, because he immediately cast a small rain of flower petals to fall over her. It would've been somewhat sweet if it hadn't mixed in with her oats.
Rowena and Salazar went off to teach their respective classes after the meal, and she noticed that the dark-haired woman frowned at the unseen tension in the room. It had been a terrible idea to kiss Salazar and get further involved in the past. Helga went off into the Forbidden Forest to do Merlin knew what, and that meant Althea was stuck with Gryffindor.
"I feel as if I haven't seen you in days. What are you getting up to without me?" His tone was playful, but she could sense his need for the answer. He reached over to link his arm with hers as they walked down the corridor.
"Hardly anything," she said. "I've been chatting with your friends. Asking them all kinds of questions about you!"
Althea put on her biggest, fakest smile and expected that Gryffindor would be flattered by the attention like every time before. Instead he was staring at her intensely and seemed disturbed by something. "Oh, have you?"
"Y-yes, but they haven't said anything unbecoming."
"There's nothing to find," he said. "I'm a perfect gentleman."
"I knew you were, but I have to be sure of a man's character before I let him court me."
"Are you considering my offer?" The intense look vanished and was replaced by pure glee. She'd never seen a man look so happy to get a chance at dating her. Eli Goldstein had never stared at her this way—even when they'd been exchanging notes in Charms before they'd been official.
"I would be an idiot to not even consider it," she said. "After all, a man of your talents, stature, and nature is so hard to find and I am honored by your affections."
The arm entwined with hers pulled her around so they were chest to chest. It was an uncomfortable position, especially considering the events of the night before, and she tried to think of quick excuses to get out of it. "I wish you would stay," he said.
"I would like the same, but I have business in Romania to finish before that could happen."
"And how long would this business take?"
"A few months to a year perhaps, maybe more."
"That is an awfully long time to be apart."
"It is."
"And you would not stay?" He put a hand on her shoulder as if she were a comrade. The grip was too tight though.
"My work is important to me—surely you understand?"
"Rowena and Helga's work is so difficult because they have no one to provide and help them. Your life need not be the same."
"I love my job," she said as the conversation somehow became similar to the usual argument with her father. When she still came home for the summers she'd find pamphlets and information regarding muggle careers and universities all over the place. They'd even made her go to a girls' camp one year, but had stopped after she accidentally set a tree on fire during the sing-a-long.
"I'm sure that you do, but things are different in this land. Here a witch doesn't need to toil away and can spend more time with her children and husband."
Part of Althea wanted to scream that women were just as powerful as men and that he'd had his ass kicked more than once by one, but she knew that wouldn't get her where she needed to be with Gryffindor. "If I could finish up my work in Romania then everything would be settled, and we could be together."
"It seems as if you care for your work more than me."
She shook her head and managed to pry her arm from his grasp. "Kind and gentle sir, please excuse me. I must be going."
It was lame as far as excuses went, but he seemed to be okay with it. "You are excused. Will I see you for dinner?"
"Yes."
He nodded and walked off in a sudden hurry toward the Headmaster's Office. She didn't know what he was going to do, but she had a bad feeling about it. The dungeons were quiet since Salazar didn't teach in them, but she knew the silence wouldn't last long. The lack of sound reached into her bones and sent chills all through them, but she stayed still. There was someone nearby.
When a person spends enough time invisible, they learned to sense the magic around them and within them instead of depending just on sight. It was about a year into her training with the Department that she'd been able to track her subjects without using spells, simply by following their magic and her intuition. She'd almost lost Newt Scamander in the Amazon, but had found him several hours later hanging upside down from a tree and sketching a new creature he'd found.
Althea drew out her wand and pointed it toward the dark corner nearest the entrance to the dormitory. "Homenum revlio."
The guise fell away instantly and Helena Ravenclaw came into sight. She looked more dressed up than usual; her gown was way too nice for class. Biting her lip she stepped forward and curtseyed. "Please, my Lady! Please don't tell anyone I was here."
"You're awfully far from your own common room," she said. "What are you doing down here?"
"I- I got lost," she said. She caught onto the lie and kept going as her voice became velvet. If Althea didn't have an idea of the truth she might have bought it. "I was looking for the lavatory and ended up here somehow."
"And you were invisible because…?"
"I thought you were Master Slytherin and I didn't want to get in trouble."
"Very sound reasoning," Althea said, "but I have another idea. Were you trying to visit someone in Slytherin's House?"
"No, that would be ridiculous."
"It's not that hard to believe. Shouldn't you be in class with your mother after all?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Then tell me what you're doing here before I inform her of your whereabouts."
"I was meeting Waldo, okay? He and I decided to miss class so we could be alone for once!" She crossed her arms and reminded Althea of a less-controlled, visibly-hostile Rowena.
"Isn't that what your free time is for?"
"Try having a woman who can transform into an eagle for a mother and tell me you have privacy," she said. The information about Rowena's animagus form wasn't a surprise to Althea, because she knew that the founder did in fact spy on her daughter. It was her form of mothering.
"I understand that it can be difficult to find time alone with someone you would like to see, but missing out on an education to do so isn't smart."
Helena nodded. "What should I do?"
"Talk to your mother—maybe she'll understand. Does she know about your relationship with Mister Pratt?"
"No."
"Then tell her. Maybe she'll like him."
"My mother doesn't like anyone."
"How do you know?" Althea said.
"She's been alone for my entire life. She doesn't even entertain suitors."
"What about your father?" It was one of the hundred mysteries she'd encountered. Maybe Rowena's daughter knew.
"He's dead. He defended our village from a dragon singlehandedly and died a hero!" Helena's fists clenched and Althea could feel that she believed what she was saying, but something didn't fit right. Rowena wouldn't seem ashamed or secretive about a man who had been killed by a dragon. It didn't make sense.
"Maybe the reason that your mother hasn't had suitors is because she loved your father more than she could love anyone else."
"I doubt that," Helena said. "My mother loves books, not people."
Althea shrugged. "I won't pretend to know your mother better than you, but I think you should give her more credit. I also think you should get to class."
Helena nodded once before going up to the main floors. Althea pondered over the brief interaction, picking and pulling it apart in her mind. It seemed that the Grey Lady she knew of was very different from the Helena Ravenclaw she had just talked to. Like Waldo Pratt, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin…things didn't add up. How did Waldo and Helena become the Bloody Baron and Grey Lady when they seemed to genuinely care for each other?
Nothing made sense anymore.
#
Althea went through her sword forms with practiced ease. Each one moved into the next with fluid grace, and she was almost amazed at her own progress. She never would've guessed that learning how to use a sword would become like meditation for her, but it had and she liked it. Her muscles were still unused to the extra effort, but the ache felt good instead of painful. If she kept up the practice after returning to her time maybe she'd develop some biceps and show them off to the other Timekeepers.
Sean Lewis was the fittest of the section, which was why most of the adventure type assignments went his way. He'd gone on some of Newt Scamander's more dangerous journeys, had front row seats to Grindelwald and Dumbledore's great battle, and done more than his share of war documentation. The man was a legend.
Althea, on the other hand, had a feeling that she was about to earn a reputation as Timekeeper-who-broke-the-most-rules-and-fucked-shit-up. Croaker always liked to say that he'd hired her on a whim, but she knew that it was something else. Most departments didn't hire eighteen year olds to go on dangerous missions, and most Unspeakable trainees weren't picked up in a section until they'd been with the department for three years. She was an exception.
After going through her forms, Althea sat on the bed and sharpened her sword. It made a soft hum and she started singing along with it. She lost track of time in the action and only broke from the stupor when someone knocked on the door. Her voice cut off and she gripped the hilt in her hand before answering. Salazar stood, hand raised as if to knock again, and backed up when he saw the blade.
"I, ah, was wondering what you were up to?"
"I was sharpening my sword."
"Isn't that Helga's old one? Did she give it to you?"
"Yes." Althea hid the sword under the pillow before turning back to him.
"You must be special. Those swords are her children," he said. His smile would've melted ice, but she didn't let it touch her heart.
"May I help you with something?"
"You have a lovely voice. Why do you keep it quiet?"
The real answer was that her mum had wanted her to sing for church choir every Sunday and she'd learned that it was better not to. Magic and messiah songs didn't mix well in life. "I'd rather keep it to myself."
"You continue to be a mystery," he said. "Would you care to join me?"
"Not particularly."
"Are you otherwise preoccupied?"
"Not really."
"Then I see no issue why you shouldn't join me."
"I see many."
"Such as?"
"Gryffindor will be displeased."
"And why do I care what Godric thinks?"
"He seems to be very possessive of me."
Salazar frowned before shaking his head. "I don't care."
"I can't—"
"Just come with me," he said. Salazar grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the room. She set up a few quick wards as they left and wondered what he was up to. He looked around every corner, stopped for every sound, and moved at a much slower pace than she was used to. They made their way up to the main floor and then the first before she figured out a possible destination. But there was no way he was taking her to the Chamber of Secrets. That was the whole point of the room—it was secret.
She was proven wrong as they walked through the door of the girls' lavatory and stopped in front of the sinks. He checked that the bathroom was empty before looking over at her. "Do you trust me?"
Did she? Less than Helga perhaps, but definitely more than Gryffindor. She nodded. "Yes, I do."
"Good. There's something I want to show you."
He spoke Parseltongue and the sinks moved away to show a subtle passageway down. She had to at least pretend to be surprised that he a) could speak to snakes and b) that a room had suddenly appeared in the bathroom. "What is this?"
"My greatest secret," he said.
He held out his hand and she took it while ignoring the sparks of sensation that ran up and door her body. They walked down in the Chamber and watched as he navigated the dark tunnels with total familiarity. Hogwarts was his school, but this was his home. She held onto his hand as they crept down slippery steps and stopped in front of the giant door. He spoke again and it unlocked without hesitation.
It was only then that Althea realized a hitch in this moment. He was taking her into the Chamber of Secrets…the place that housed a juvenile basilisk… Was he going to kill her? What had she done to deserve being killed by a snake? Sure, she'd snogged him and ran away, but that didn't seem like it deserved death.
They walked into the Chamber, footsteps echoing on the stones, and she waited with baited breath for the beast to arrive. It would slither in at any moment, look her in the eyes, and that would be it. She'd never return to the future, share her findings, or solve the mysteries of Hogwarts. It would all be over soon.
"You seem nervous," he said. "What's wrong?"
"It's not every day a person discovers a hidden chamber."
He smiled. "Do you like it?"
"It's beautiful, Salazar."
They walked down the middle and she found that it was even better when she wasn't invisible and trying to be quiet. The light played off of the lake water and flashed beautiful patterns onto the walls. She realized that she'd never let go of his hand. It was cool in the chamber, easily five degrees colder than in the school, and she shivered. A quick Warming Charm later and she felt normal again.
He was staring at her and, before she could comprehend what was happening, he'd pulled her closer. Salazar leaned in until she could feel his breath against her face and then—slowly, as if asking permission—leaned in to kiss her. It was different this time too. Instead of the hurried, passionate kiss they'd shared this was one was quiet and slow. His thumb brushed against her cheek and she shivered again, but not because of the cold.
They broke apart and he smiled. "I figured it would be harder for you to hide in here."
"I'm not hiding."
"I can see that." He gave her a little space but held tight to her hand. "Do you trust me still?"
"Yes."
"Close your eyes."
"Salazar?"
"Trust me," he said and she did.
He spoke Parseltongue and she knew what was coming. Even so her body locked up at the sound of thick scales hitting the ground and dragging across it. They hissed at each other for a moment before Salazar took the hand he was holding and lifted it up. A second later, she touched something smooth, slightly wet. Her hand was dragged up and down for a second before she started petting the basilisk on her own.
The situation was surreal. Was she really touching one of the most dangerous magical creatures in the world or was he just putting her hand in a bowl of unripe artichokes? He reached down to kiss the top of her head.
"Do you know what you're doing?"
"I'm petting something."
"Althea, meet Buttercup. Buttercup, meet Althea."
There was a slight hum from the serpent's throat and she froze for a moment in disbelief. Never, in all of her research and observation, would she have guessed that Salazar Slytherin, professor of Dark Arts and general badass, would name a fucking basilisk Buttercup. Still, she had to play along.
"And what, exactly, is Buttercup?"
"She's a basilisk."
She pulled her hand away for a moment before putting it back. "Aren't basilisks supposed to be incredibly dangerous creatures?"
"They're just misunderstood."
"Like some other snakes I know."
"Hmm?"
"Nothing."
She pulled her hand away as she heard the great serpent slide across the Chamber. A moment later, Salazar tilted her head back toward him, lifted up her chin, and pressed another gentle kiss on her lips. "You can open your eyes now."
She did and found herself almost lost in his. Stepping away, she took a deep breath and looked around the chamber. Buttercup had slid back into the pipes and out of sight. She looked back to Salazar before walking up to the dais and looking over his desk. He followed with his hands behind his back, watching in amusement as she flipped through some parchments and books.
"Why create such a grand place instead of a simple study?"
"For now this place is my study, but I hope to one day open it to my House as a refuge where they may practice and study in privacy."
"Isn't that what common rooms are for?"
"Common rooms are not for practicing duels," he said, "or brewing potions, or doing other things without supervision that students may need to do from time to time. I have no doubt that in time our Hogwarts will house many students and have a great number of professors, but there are only so many private lessons and tutoring sessions one person can do. Students could teach other students, practice together, and learn beyond what curriculum dictates. This is my hope for this school."
It was amazing to listen to the most-hated founder make such a speech of such nature. Before Harry Potter had arrived at Hogwarts none of what Salazar spoke of really came to pass. The Houses were divided and stayed that way, students stuck to the lessons and didn't divulge, and people did as they were told. The Golden Trio had changed all that. Now the Houses were united and spent much time together, there were clubs and groups throughout the school with different causes and purposes, and some students worked harder than others to learn beyond the assigned texts.
"I think it will be…one day."
"I want this school to set examples for the rest of our society."
"Unity?"
"We are far apart and few between. We have villages here and there, but no brotherhood or comradeship to keep us together. Magic separates us from the muggles, but it should unite us. Instead we are further divided by blood and status."
"And you dislike this?"
"I can admit that my status as a pureblood has granted me boons beyond that I would either receive. I only wish that others could have the same."
"Even muggleborns?" Part of her still couldn't believe that the man in front of her would later hate them so much he would bar them from this school of unity.
He paused for a moment. "Muggleborns are a delicate issue—that is true—but I think it may change in time. Godric thinks that they may be persuaded by the hatred of their kind to turn against us, but I think otherwise. Magic is a gift and would not be bestowed to those who are unworthy."
Salazar couldn't know that magic was genetic, a trait inherited and passed through the generations regardless of whether it was dominant or recessive. It was why squibs would later have magic great-great grandchildren or how purebloods were never fully promised that all of their children would have the power. Salazar's sister was proof of that.
"And you," he said, "What do you think of status?"
"I have seen many sides," she said. "My father was a muggleborn, but he didn't embrace magic. He found better…things in the muggle world. I am a half-blood, but have been blessed with good fortune."
He smiled and twisted a lock of hair between his fingers. "Selena would like you."
"Selena?"
"My sister," he said. "She appreciates people who understand."
"Have your friends met her?"
"Just Rowena," he said. "Selena was ill for a brief period of time and I needed potions that are beyond even my level of expertise."
"Where is Selena? If you are here…"
"She lives in Gwynedd with her husband and my nephews. I visit during the holidays, but try to stay away. Any magic at all can be a threat these days."
She nodded as he leaned his head on her shoulder. "You're a good brother."
"I hope to be a good man."
"You are."
But one day he might not be.