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A Great Distance
Chapter 3
Dinner was a simple affair. The three founders and Hermione all sat at a round table in The Great Hall, a chair had been set aside for Slytherin but he hadn't arrived yet. They had plates and cups set in front of them, and two House Elves walked into the hall and set dishes in the middle of the table. She frowned at that. S.P.E.W, was still something she was passionate about. But now was not the time, she smiled and held her tongue.
A lot of the food were things Hermione was familiar with, but there were a few things that had obviously failed to live past the dark ages, judging from the look of them, she wasn't missing anything. She wrinkled her nose and chose something she knew the name of.
Sitting around the table, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were on either side of her, the space beside Rowena was empty, and Godric sat next to Helga. The door towards the kitchen opened and a House Elf hurried over. "Excuse me Sir, Madam's, but Professor Slytherin will not be joining us this evening," she said with a squeak.
"Did he say why?" Helga asked as Hermione frowned
The House Elf shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said before turning and heading back to the kitchen.
Godric sighed and turned to Hermione apologetically. "I'm sorry about this," he said.
"It hasn't been the best year." Rowena added.
"He acts like this sometimes, you can see him in the morning," Helga added quietly, reaching out and patting her arm.
Hermione frowned. "But what about the broken Time Turner, I have to get home."
"It will have to wait," said Godric. "Salazar does not like to be disturbed when he does not want company."
Hermione sighed angrily. This wasn't going the way she planned at all. This was taking much longer then she thought it would. She wondered if the others were worried about her. Poor Mrs Weasley must be beside herself, and it wasn't good for McGonagall to get this worked up at her age.
"Now," Godric said passing her the roasted potatoes. "It's time to eat. I'm famished."
(v)
Later that night Hermione lay awake in the bedroom Rowena had converted for her. It was on the First floor, near the kitchens. Rowena had transfigured a small, unused classroom into a bedroom. Complete with four poster bed, a vanity and a wardrobe filled with witches robes, and dresses. Hermione looked around and smiled. It had been almost a decade since she had slept in the castle, it was like coming home again.
She took a long bath enjoying the relaxing feeling the hot water and aromatherapy candles gave on her tired aching muscles. Bruises covered the back of her shoulder, and her hip where she had hit the ground. Taking her wand she tapped the tip against her bruised flesh and muttered the powerful, but simple spell (for those with the power) to heal her bruised flesh. They faded before her eyes. She smiled and put her wand back on the dresser beside the tub and leaned her head back against the bathtub, closing her eyes in contentment, slowly drifting off to sleep.
A loud shout from down the hall awoke her with a start. With a gasp she fell under the water, she struggled for a second before she managed to put her feet on the bottom of the tub and push herself up. She grabbed the side of the bathtub with her hands and lifted her head above the water. Coughing water out of her lungs she pushed her hair out of her face.
Another shout came from outside her suite and she turned her head towards the sound. It wasn't that far away, and almost sounder like it was coming from below her – in the dungeons. With a frown she got out of the tub, dried herself quickly and wrapped a towel around her wet hair. She dressed in underwear and the long, old fashioned nightgown Rowena had provided her, and then wrapped a long while fluffy robe around her. She put on a pair of slippers and then opened the door to her rooms. She looked down the hall, took a deep breath and stepped outside. "Lumos," she muttered as she closed the door behind her and holding her wand out in front of her she walked forward. She hadn't gone far when the hallway opened to the entrance way and she looked around again. The noise, as she suspected before was coming from the dungeons below her. She descended the stairs slowly, the wand still held out in front of her lighting the way.
Noises were coming from the second door on her right. A soft hiss reached her ears. She took another deep breath and put her hand on the doorknob. Before she could push it open, the handle twisted under her fingers and someone on the other side of the door pulled it open. She let out a gasp and jumped back.
A tall man stood in front of her, his wand pointed at her chest. It didn't escape her notice that this was the second time this had happened in a number of hours. As her eyes adjusted to the light coming from inside the open door she noticed a large, green snake had wound itself around his wand arm and draped itself over his shoulders. It hissed and turned its head towards her, fixing her with eyes of golden amber.
She turned her eyes away instantly. She would know that stare anywhere, the last time she had looked at eyes like that she had ended up petrified, and her best friends had almost died.
"I don't want it looking at me," she snapped, uncaring that she was being rude.
The man in front of her frowned, tilted his friend to the side. He lowered his wand and turned to the snake, taking it in his hands and talking to it in Parsletongue as he turned around and lowered it to the ground. Hermione watched it out of the corner of her eye as it slithered away.
Salazar straightened up and turned to look her in the eye. "You can open your eyes now," he said dryly.
Hermione took a deep breath and looked at him. "Sorry," she muttered.
"Not many can recognise a Basilisk as young as this."
"I've seen it before," she said dismissively, "Why didn't it kill me?" she asked, "I looked at it before I realised what it was."
"A juvenile such as this does not have the power to kill," he paused, "or petrify, until it has reached maturity, at about 50 years."
"Why the questions?" he asked.
"Can you…can you train it?" she asked quietly, ignoring him.
He raised an eyebrow, but continued. "If you had the patience for it," he said. He tilted his head to the side, indicating she should come inside.
He walked ahead of her, heading towards the bench in the centre to the room that was filled with jars, and trinkets. A candle burned at each end, and in the centre of the bench was a small reptilian creature with a pair of bat like wings. Hermione frowned for a moment, before she shrugged and followed him. Closing the door behind her. "Who are you?" she asked, thought she already had a fair idea, she wanted to hear it confirmed.
"Who are you?" he asked, not bothering to turn around from the bench.
"I asked you first," she said. As she moved forward the creature turned its head and hissed. "Is that a dragon?"
The man raised an eyebrow, amused. "What question do you want me to answer first?"
Hermione glared, but all he did was laugh. "I am Salazar Slytherin, and yes that is indeed a dragon. My own if you must know. It's mother abandoned it, as mother dragons are common to do, and I am taking care of the creature until it can be safely released back into the wilderness."
Hermione stared in shock. Salazar Slytherin was a tall man, with close cropped dark hair and a black goatee and mustache. His clothes were dark, in a mix of different shades of green, with a white tunic. The torches in the dungeon flickered over his face, and she noticed his eyes were the colour of emeralds.
She frowned, he wasn't at all what she expected.
"Are you going to answer my question?" he asked, dryly.
"Oh. I'm Hermione." She said, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."
He raised an eyebrow again. Studying her. Rowena had told him there was a young woman in the castle who had come here from another time. That she needed help.
"What are you doing wandering the castle at night?" he asked.
"I heard you yelling," She said, and pointed to the dragon, "It sounds like he has been giving you some trouble."
"She," he corrected. "The females are always more violent than the males – can't imagine why." He said dryly.
"Charming." She muttered.
Salazar actually laughed. "You're interesting, I admit. Now, why don't you tell me what's wrong. Ravenclaw mentioned you had some strange device to show me."
"Why weren't you at dinner?" she asked quickly.
"I have more important things to do," he said dismissively. "I ate in my chambers."
Hermione frowned again, but she reached out from under her nightdress and pulled the Time Turner over her head, handing it to him. He took it from her hand and turned it over a few times, studying it.
"This is a Time Turner," she explained.
"It's broken," he murmured.
"Yes. I know," she said, "It smashed when I hit the ground." She paused to judge his reaction. "I was hoping you could fix it, I heard you were good at this kind of thing."
"I'm very good." He said, without a hint of humour, turning his attention back to the device in his hand. "This is astonishing, I haven't seen anything like this before. When were these first made?"
"I…I do not know."
Salazar frowned in response. "Do you mind if I keep this tonight, to study?"
She swallowed the lump in her throat. She wasn't sure if she trusted him. What if something went wrong? What if she couldn't get back?
"Will you try to fix it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
He frowned again. "Of course," he said in confusion.
Hermione didn't say anything more, she just nodded, letting the subject drop. After that Salazar and asked her for details about what exactly happened to make her come here. Hermione answered carefully, trying not to reveal too much about the future, but also making sure he knew everything of relevance.
"How much do you know about time?" she asked.
"Its wibbly wobbily, timey wimey?!" she offered, unable to help herself.
He gave her a strange look and Hermione sighed, she didn't know why she had bothered. "Not much," she amended quickly.
"Time is constant, it neither slows nor speeds up. Our concept of time is inherent of how we perceive our surroundings. Can we change it? Yes, if we have the right tools for it."
"It's change," Hermione said quietly.
"Yes, but it is also the same. There is so little, yet so much of it."
He looked down at the Time Turner for a few minutes, contemplating his next question. Under the candlelight the silver metal shined brightly.
"Does it just moves time? Not space?" Salazar asked. A roll of parchment and a quill appearing at his elbow with a wave of his wand and he started to write down notes. Hermione nodded.
"I think this might require more study then I first though." He mused.
"I'd like to help" she offered.
Salazar was silent for a few minutes as he studied her. She struggled not to look away. He might be one of the most powerful wizards in history, and co-founder of the best magical school in the world, but at the moment he was only a few years older than herself, and her equal.
"I'm more than capable." She said, matter of fact.
He raised an eyebrow. "Did you go to this school, in your time?"
"Yes."
"Did you graduate?" he asked dryly.
She glared. "Highest in my class," she said with a hint of pride.
His eyebrows raised again. "Interesting," he muttered to himself. "Yes, I think you can help."
He turned around and put his hand on the baby dragon's back, comforting it as it growled softly.
Hermione smiled and took out her wand. "I was wondering if maybe a simple repair spell could work, how about we try that first, and work our way to the more complicated charms."
"Logical way to look at it," he agreed, smiling back at her.
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