Unsurprisingly, Salazar's quarters had rather more green and silver than one might otherwise expect, as well as a fair amount of black. Thick tapestries graced the walls, preventing the cold from the dungeon walls from overwhelming the heat of a fire, and plush rugs were underfoot, making the chambers cozy and welcoming. As Salazar seated himself in one of the armchairs in front of the empty fireplace, he languidly waved Harry over to the other. "We can worry about your chamber later. Now, I would like to hear what you were unwilling to mention in front of the others, and, if you would excuse the bluntness, why you feel I am trustworthy."
"Well, the very short answer is that my problems begin and end with you." Harry said.
Salazar just sat back and quirked a brow in response.
"In my time I am on the opposite side of a war from your heir, a Dark wizard who tried to kill me when I was a baby. Obviously it didn't work, and the result was him being ejected from the physical plane, and a strange mental connection between the two of us being formed." Harry said, touching his scar. "Of course, this wasn't realized until I began school at Hogwarts, and he began his annual attempts to regain physical form and attempting directly or indirectly, to kill me in the process. In my fourth year he finally succeeded, and with physical form, our mental connection was even stronger. I would have visions of what he was doing, especially those events during which he experienced strong emotions. I attempted to learn Occlumency, which only seemed to open the connection further, until he was able to feel it, and send me a false vision, which I took to be truth. Because of this, I ran off in all idiocy on a fool's mission which ended in my godfather's death."
Harry took a deep breath, shaken by the devastating emotion connected to that statement. Breathing in, he let the emotions drop, smoothing his face of all expression. "Returning from that disaster to school, the headmaster saw fit to inform me that this wizard's continued attempts on my life weren't based on anger at failing the first time around, but a prophecy of which he only heard the first part. Based upon the incomplete version, he killed my parents and attempted to kill me, marking me as his equal in the process. The other part, which he did not know until I fell asleep that night, instigated the rest of this disaster. Apparently I am the only one who can kill him, or he me. With this and my godfather's death, I was completely incapable of shielding my mind before sleeping, even if I had known how to. I believe that somehow I was sucked into his mind, past his shields, and this time we shared memories."
Harry paused, trying to order his thoughts. "I think that the week that I was unconscious was necessary, so that I could try to work through all of this. I have over fifty years of someone else's life and memories inside of my head, as well as my own. I know what he knows, and I must assume that the opposite is also true, including the full prophecy."
Once Harry came to a stop, Salazar stood up and walked over to a cabinet, taking out glasses and splashing a generous amount of amber liquid into both. Coming back, he handed one to Harry and sat back down, slouching a bit. He stared into his glass for a while, idly swirling the liquid within, until he finally took a sip and looked at Harry.
"I can see why you did not want to tell the others this. It certainly makes education planning more difficult. You may well know more than I do." he said a bit dryly.
Harry finally took some of the liquid in his glass, letting what felt like liquid sunshine warm and soothe him, as his brain supplied 'Cognac'. "I will need to practice it all, as I don't know how it all with react to my magic. I think that another wand might be of use as well, something better fitted to what I now am."
"Ours certainly won't be the normal master apprentice relationship." Salazar said, "Though that may be for the best. With your combined memories I think that you won't suffer prejudices in either direction and thus view magic as I do, as being inherently neutral, with intent dictating purpose."
"I can see that for a lot of what I know, but what of, say, the cutting curse, or Cruciatus?" Harry queried, leaning forward.
Salazar's eyes gleamed. "You have hit upon the fundamental issue," he said. "I also think that you can easily explain that to yourself. How often did you have episodes of accidental magic as a child?" he asked, seemingly irrelevantly.
"Well", Harry said slowly, trying to see where he was headed, "I appeared on the roof of my school once, when I was being chased by my cousin, and that terrifically hideous sweater shrank until it would have only fit a doll, and of course I vanished the glass in the snake exhibit….ah. I think I see where you are going."
"And I think that you have enough power to utilise that knowledge. To consistently use just the intent alone, without spell or wand movement, requires a greater power reservoir, though not more power." Salazar said, looking rather pleased.
"How do you mean?" Harry said, a bit confused.
"It does seem a bit strange, doesn't it? I haven't really understood the theory behind it, bit it is not the sheer amount of power poured in that makes a difference. Someone who can't just can't because of their base power levels, but someone who can isn't drained by doing so."
"Well then, you can hardly say that I know more than you. If it works, then you are only limited by your imagination." Harry said. "I guess that is how potion-making works. It doesn't require 'foolish wand waving', as my professor once said, but the potions are sustained by the maker's innate magic.", he continued pensively.
"I think we will get on quite well.", Salazar said, smirking. "The others may underestimate you, which may be for the best, as, with the exception of Rowena, they tend to have a rather straight-laced view of magic. You can certainly get physical training from Godric without much difficulty, though with little subtlety, and we can just muddle through the rest, aligning your body with your memories ourselves."
"I really would like some training in potions," Harry said a bit shyly. "I certainly was never very good with them, and sadly your heir was only proficient, though I suppose that doesn't really matter if one has one of the best potions masters in the world as a minion." He continued, a bit slyly.
"Well, at least there is something that I can truly teach you." Salazar said with some humour. "Now, let us go and sort out a room for you."
He stood up, and with Harry following, left the sitting room for an adjacent hallway, opening a door at the end into a large, plain room with a wardrobe and bed hung with plain cream linens.
"Now, see if you can change this with intent." Salazar commanded.
Harry looked about, thinking of what might look good. With the stone floors, there wasn't much to change. "Might as well stay with the theme", he thought, laughingly. The bed hangings changed to pewter velvet and the bedclothes to a forest green silk. The rugs scattered across the floor changed to a pattern of silver-edged ivy on a black background.
"That will work well enough.", Salazar said, with evident humour in his voice. As he turned to leave, Harry asked, "What should I call you? And what would you call me?"
Salazar turned back around. "You noticed that, did you? Well, in public, Master would work best, though I would prefer Salazar in private. And, for you. Hmm. Heolstor, Helios in public."
Harry laughed.