A/N: This story will not be slash. The relationship that Harry and Draco concoct is only a cover for what they are really doing. The story is not supposed to be a romance at all; it is a power play story. I'm pushing it with the Ron/Hermione relationship. Draco will change very little from the cannon and he does not like Harry. A certain respect will form but in no way is it as love of any kind. For those who want to know: Salazar is bi and not looking for any kind of relationship.

As for Rowan she was only the catalyst for the story. She is not related to Harry or Salazar and will most likely not appear again. She was given orders from the Higher up to do what she did because it is her family that makes the sword work.

I am also going to start a Salazar Slytherin Godric Gryffindor hodgepodge of shorts called "The Drinking Chronicles" so anyone that liked the naming of the school is recommended to check it out when it goes up.

One more thing, I know now where this story is going: the complete and absolute vodka†destruction of Voldemort. So enjoy!

Serious Discussions

Harry and his friends made their way silently up to the Gryffindor common room after diner. Once there they set up residence in front of the fire place. Ron sat on the couch with Hermione next to him. Harry sat across from them on one of the plush chairs. Hermione pulled out the book she had had at dinner and began reading. Harry and Ron stared at her for a moment then shrugged at each other. Ron set up his old battered chess set and on the table between them, and they started to play.

Two hours later Ron sat back and scratched his head. Something was wrong with the game. He glanced up at Harry, who was surveying the still crowded room. Ron sighed and went back to studying the board; he made his move. "Your turn." Harry came out of his trance, glanced fleetingly at the board, and moved. Ron snorted wishing Harry would pay more attention to the game. He studied the board once more. His jaw dropped as he came to the realization that Harry was winning that was what was wrong with the game. Harry was winning, al bet not by much, but Harry could hardly hold his own in a chess match. Ron sat up straighter. It was time to pay more attention to the game. His eyes lit up. A challenge.

A few hours later Hermione looked up from her book. The common room was finally empty. She watched the boys bent close over the chess board eyes gleaming. Hermione waited patiently for them to realize that the room was empty and that it was time to talk.

Hermione was willing to admit that she had been hard on Harry since his return from the hospital wing, but she really worried about him. After Sirius' death he had withdrawn from all human contact. Seeing the wasted figure Harry had become on the train at the start of term had frightened her. Hermione's worst fear was that Harry would commit suicide if left alone. She promised herself she would be there to stop him if he tried.

Hermione watched the boys for upwards of ten minutes chewing on her bottom lip. The only notable occurrence was Ron placing his hand on a knight muttering to himself. Hermione couldn't take it anymore; she picked up her book and chunked it at the board. The innocent chess pieces flew in all directions with little screams of shock and surprise.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, "Why did you do that? Harry and I were in the middle of an intense game."

"And since when is any game of chess with Harry intense?" Hermione crossed her arms and watched as Ron opened and shut his mouth. She turned to Harry. "You have some explaining to do. If I didn't know better I would say that you were a different person."

Harry licked his suddenly dry lips. He knew, had known, that the common room was empty and had been for some time. The only came from the fire crackling cheerfully blissfully unaware of the tension in the room. Both Ron and Hermione sat across the table from him waiting expectantly for his answer.

Harry nervously scanned the room, looking for hidden intruders. Finding none, he took out his wand and cast a privacy ward around the room that would keep out unwanted visitors, and prevent physical and magical eaves dropping. "None of what I say here leaves here."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. This did not sound like their Harry at all. Their friend had been moody and withdrawn, but this was a whole different person, a dangerous person. Hermione had been reading up on depression, but hadn't come across anything like this. Harry's gaze held suspicion, something she would have once thought impossible.

Ron sat back with a frown and crossed his arms in front of him. His right hand plucked at the cuff of his robe, a habit he just couldn't break. "We won't say anything; you know you can trust us." Ron said leaning forward with an earnest expression on his face. "We're your best friends."

Harry's eyes softened at Ron's words. He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. He really wanted to trust them. Ron and Hermione had stuck by him through everything, butâ€. Harry also knew that what Ron had said was true. He took a deep breath. "I know. It's only that since Sirius' death I've been pretty messed up, and then this happened."

"What happened Harry?" Hermione asked a worried frown on her face.

"Well†ya see" Harry launched into his explanation of the events of the night in question, trying hard not to rush through it, or even worse, stutter to a halt. He told them about Rowan and how she had 'fixed' his eyes, leaving out the fact that he could now see much better than any human. The sword and what exactly it did to him were harder to get out but he did manage. He wouldn't tell his friends the secrets he had learned about anyone else, but he did expand, in detail, on Ron and Hermione's escapades.

Harry told them of the time Ron had stolen his brother's wand as a child and the resulting catastrophe that became of the kitchen. He even pointed out that it had been an excellent idea to tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasely that the garden gnomes had snuck into the house. Ron blushed and told Harry not to let that get around. His parents still thought it was the gnomes.

The three of them laughed, Ron and Hermione a bit nervously as Harry went on to describe Natalie's, Hermione's cousin, spectacular not to mention original new hair cut. "'Mione Ron turned to look at the flustered girl, "Why did you cut your cousin's hair off?"

Hermione glared at Harry, who only smiled. I'm not telling." She brushed imaginary lint off her skirt ignoring Ron all together.

Ron turned to Harry expectantly. "I'm not telling either."

Ron sighed, "Okay, let me get this strait," He leaned forwards, "You touched a magic sword, and now you know everyone's dirty little secrets."

"That's not completely right but close enough to count."

"Sounds like a fairy tale." Hermione twirled a strand of hair on her index finger. "You sure you're remembering it right?"

"Yes, Quite sure."

Ron suddenly grinned from ear to ear. "So, anything good on Malfoy?"

"I'm not telling." At Harry's word Ron smacked his hands on his thighs.

"Why not?"

"I refuse to use this†gift that way." Harry's harsh tone clearly stated that he would not be rebuked.

"He's right Ron, we don't have the right to parade other's secrets around for the whole school to hear, even Malfoy." Hermione looked once more at Harry. "Is this knowledge why you have changed so much?"

Harry grimaced "No, it is not." He put his head in his hands and sat there for a moment. He had been hoping that they would overlook this, but there was no choice, Harry had to tell them that he was Salazar Slytherin; he needed them.

When Harry raised his head tears were in his eyes. "I don't want you guys to interrupt me. This is hard enough to say as it is." He swallowed hard rubbing sweaty palms on his school robe. His fingers reached up and touched the badge on his shoulder. "I shouldn't be wearing this; Gryffindor is not my house."

Both Ron and Hermione started to protest. "No," Harry silenced them. "It is true. At my sorting the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, saying that I could be great. In second year I learned that Voldemort had transferred some of his power to me. I have thought ever since then that that was the reason the Sorting Hat had wanted me to be a Slytherin.

"Three nights ago, when I touched that sword, it showed me everything about everyone I knew. Then people and places I had never seen before flashed before my eyes, yet they seemed so familiar." Harry stared at his friends noting the shock slowly creeping across their faces. They sill had no idea, or those would be looks of horror.

"The final truth I learned that night was that I have lived a past life. A thousand years ago I helped create this school. I was once called Salazar Slytherin."

"That's funny Harry," Ron laughed weakly.

"I'm not joking Ron. It is the reason I can do advanced spells."

Hermione frowned. "So you lied to us when you said that you had been studying."

"I didn't lie to you, Harry sighed. "I made the statement that I had been studying; I let you draw your own conclusions." He looked pleadingly at his still shocked friends. Ron seemed to not be able to process the information given him. Hermione had a worried frown on her face. "The truth is; I don't think I can lie. Every time I try I can't seem speak."

Hermione raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. "Can't lie? First you say that you are Salazar Slytherin, who is famous for lying, and then you say you can't lie. Isn't that a contradiction in terms?"

Harry saw that she had a point. "Of course Salazar could lie, he was one of the best liars of all time, but I can't." He let out a frustrated growl. "Besides I never said that I am Slytherin. I said I was, past tence, or more accurately a past life. The only difference is I remember it now."

"But you have changed Harry."

"I'm still me." Harry's voice held a deadly intensity.

"Who did you try to lie to, Harry?" The arguing pair turned at the sound of Ron's voice.

"â€." Harry mumbled staring at his feet.

"Who?"

"Dumbledore," Harry admitted.

"Harry," Hermione admonished. "You should have told Dumbledore about this. We need to go speak to him now."

"No," She jumped a Harry's snarl. "I will not tell the Headmaster about this and neither will you." His voice softened. "Hermione there are things I have to do. Important things that Dumbledore conceders trivial to the war against Voldemort. I'm going to need your help and Ron's."

"Harry," Hermione tried again.

"No Hermione. There are things I can't tell Dumbledore. I will talk to him and tell him what he needs to know."

"Isn't that how he treated you, and look what happened. Sirius died." Hermione had gone too far. Harry's green eyes darkened to black and he hid his emotions behind an uncaring mask.

Harry's voice was a cold as the grave and far more frightening. "This is different. I am a dark wizard now and Dumbledore is a light wizard to the core. We can't have any more dissention in ranks if we are going to defeat Voldemort. When Dumbledore finds out that I am a dark wizard more knowledgeable and more powerful than Voldemort he will be obliged to kill me because I can do dark spells now, and I'm not talking about such trivial spells as the Killing Curse."

Hermione fled.

Harry bit his lip until it bled. Tears began to run down his face. "I didn't mean to scare her." Ron looked up from the table he had been staring at the whole time Hermione and Harry had argued. This new Harry did scare him. Hell he had almost pissed himself during that little speech. But seeing the tears on Harry's face and the tragic look in his eyes Ron knew without a doubt that this was still his best friend.

"I know mate. Even I think she went too far with the whole Sirius thing." The silence after those words stretched and knotted itself around the two boys. Finally Ron caught some air in his lungs and broke it. "I believe you Harry. And I meant what I said before I'm your friend; you can count on me."

Harry only nodded his head. With a sigh he deactivated the wards and made his way up the stairs to the dorm. He slipped quietly under the covers. Sometime later he heard Ron come in. After some shuffling noises he heard Ron's voice, "Good night, Harry."

Green shaded lamps shined down on the Slytherin sixth and Seventh years. They were crowded in a semi-circle around the stone fire place. Blaise Zabini stood in front of the fire place presenting a faintly sinister silhouette to the gathered group. Draco sat to one side of the semi-circle, giving him a clear view of the other boy's profile. From what he say Draco suspected that his friend/stalker enjoyed every moment he spent in the spotlight.

He scanned the students as everyone settled in and waited for Blaise to begin. Pansy and her cliché, Tracy and Millicent, sat as close as they could get to Draco. Not by accident both Crabbe and Goyle were seated between the girls and their pray. Pansy tended to hang off Draco like a monkey in a tree if she got too close. Theodore Nott sat next to his girlfriend, a copper headed seventh year named Tanya. On the other side of her the other seventh year were putting on a show of looking annoyed at having to listen to a sixth year speak.

After everyone had settled in Blaise continued to stand quietly with his hands behind his back. Draco gave an exasperated sigh, "Anytime now Zabini. Some of us have better things to do than sit here and stare at you."

"Others may have things to do, my dear Draco, but we all know that you love to stare at my well toned bod." Blaise winked in Draco's direction. Draco blushed a deep red and tried not to gag.

"Fellow Slytherins," Blaise began without pause, "As you all know there is to be a Halloween ball this year." He waited for the assorted "Duhs" and snorts to subside before continuing. But, instead of going to said ball where teachers and such will be to ruin our fun I propose that we throw a little party of our own."

The other Slytherins quickly showed a growing interest in the impromptu meeting. None of them had ever thought of throwing a party. The truth was Slytherins thought of parties as formal get togethers where their parents asserted their wealth, and power to their peers. Informal parties for the most part were and unidentified, foreign object until they came to Hogwarts.

"Now I know that you are all thinking that it will be very difficult to plan a decent party in three weeks on the hush hush, but hey we're Slytherins. "Blaise glanced over at two seventh years across from Draco. "Bole, Warrington, I know each of you have a substantial liquor stash so conceder them confiscated for party purposes. We can get food from the kitchens easily enough. And to create the right atmosphere†we can just steal from the unused rooms of the castle." Draco raised one delicate brow; Blaise had not been idle sense last they talked. "So, do we have a party?" the hyperactive sixth year asked bringing Draco's thoughts back to the matter at hand.

"I say yes," Draco spoke up knowing that his decision would influence the sixth years at least. Ever since his father had been caught he had lost his almost royal status in the house, but his own year stuck by him, mostly, Merlin knew why, and the younger years still feared him.

Pansy immediately jumped up and added her assent fluttering her eyelashes at him. The posse followed. Nott being wrapped around his girlfriend's finger waited for Tanya to nod her head before agreeing. The other seventh years were nodding their heads.

"Who is going to be invited?" one girl Draco didn't know asked.

"No one under sixth year. Let's be responsible or at least restrictive." Blaise answered. "People from other houses can be invited to on the conditions that they can keep their mouth shut, and are not party poopers, I hate those." The girl nodded thoughtfully. Draco suspected she had a boyfriend from another house.

"Who's going to be in charge of what?" Nott spoke up.

"Who wants to do what?" Blaise countered. "Though I believe that Draco should be in charge of decoration since he has such excellent taste."

The rest of the group nodded at this. All but Tanya that is. She glared at Draco and Blaise. "What about me. I want to decorate for the party."

Blaise opened his mouth but Draco got there first before he could say anything stupid. "I think you are out voted on that," Tanya's gaze hardened, "But I would be glad to take any ideas you may have into consideration." He put on his most charming smile.

Tanya gazed at him for a while longer before nodding her head. Everyone else sighed in relief. Tanya was known to be very shrill when she didn't get her way. Ten minutes of her screeching made a person feel as though they had crawled off the battle field after a resounding loss.

Draco went on, "The final decisions will be mine though."

"Well," Blaise interrupted before Tanya could open her mouth. "Everyone that wishes to help Draco with decorating for the party can meet with him tomorrow." He turned to Draco and fluttered his eyelashes. In Draco's opinion he looked a lot like Pansy when he did that and about as attractive. "I know I'll be there." The small boy finished.

"I'll do food." Veronica Kingston, a seventh year announced. "What I want to know is where will this party take place?"

Everyone stared at Veronica blankly. "Knew I forgot something." Blaise muttered.

"I know," Warrington grinned. "There is a large unused dungeon under the potions class rooms."

Blaise nodded. "I know the place." He laughed, "It's perfect."

They talked some more not really getting anywhere. Draco was tired of it. Nothing else would get done tonight, rather this morning he corrected looking at his watch. Draco stood up and stretched. Everyone stopped talking and turned toward him. Nice to see I'm loved, he thought. With all eyes on him Draco gave a delicate yawn. "I believe that I will turn in now." He announced. "Anyone who wants to help decorate can meet me tomorrow after dinner." He turned and strode to the sixth year boy's dorm.

Draco couldn't believe it. Blaise actually thought he could attract Draco's attention by acting like Pansy. Not only did he think it was disgusting that anyone would mimic Pansy he wasn't even gay. As for love, it was a weakness. Draco couldn't afford weaknesses, not with his father. No he already had fear, he did not need love too.

Luscious Malfoy wanted his son to be a Deatheater. Expected it, even from a prison cell. Draco was still trying to find the guts to tell his father that Voldemort was a crazy bastard and to take the Dark Mark and shove it.

Draco sighed and sat on the foot of his bed. Perhaps I should run away. Draco grimaced. There was no way he was going to become a rogue wizard. He finished getting ready for bed. Maybe if I had some protection, but no one would ever believe that Draco Malfoy would not want to be a Deatheater. Draco punched his pillow. He then remembered Blaise's slur on his sexual orientation. Now there's something I can use to my advantage.