Chapter 10: One of a kind

Over the course of the next months Harry had a full timetable once again. His theoretical lessons had been slowly replaced by his practical ones, with only a few theoretical things thrown in - like how to perform a spell correctly before attempting it - and he really liked them, making it not all that hard to learn what he was taught.

Then there were his language lessons, in which he had now started to learn French, although he was revising his knowledge of Gobbledegook and Mermish regularly. It was weird, having to remember so many words in different languages, but it turned out that Harry was surprisingly good with languages and he really liked learning about them and the different pronunciations of words in other languages.

Another new lesson in his timetable was one were Death explained to him the expected behaviour in pureblood circles. Around Death he didn't really need it, but Harry could see the value in knowing how to behave correctly if he'd ever meet another wizard who expected it. Especially since he by now he knew that he was rather famous in the British wizarding world and he really didn't want to make a bad first impression. So better start early. Also, Death had explained that these lessons would help him very much in his Parseltongue training since his teacher would probably expect proper behaviour from him, even though he still wouldn't tell who said teacher was. But it was motivating enough for Harry to make an effort in learning all of it. It wasn't that much anyway.

These lessons replaced Harry's Calligraphy course as Lily now deemed him accomplished enough to only need the regular practice of writing down things explained in other lessons for keeping his letters in shape. Once he had a grasp on his behaviour there would be more of the old wizarding traditions. It really was quite a lot to take in, but they had a lot of time on their hands still until Harry would go to Hogwarts and as far as Harry understood it Death wanted him to be as prepared as possible, even more so as he would start with the more... practical things of his apprenticeship before that.

But all of that was still pretty far away so Harry didn't think of it much. Instead he focused on the task he currently saw as the most important: Polishing his summoning skills. For that, Death had in fact thought of a quite interesting idea. Harry was supposed to summon first his grandparents - James' parents as they were both wizards and less likely to be shocked by this situation - and after he had managed that and had gotten comfortable with them he had to go another generation back. And then another. In fact, over the time he had met almost every Potter that was a direct ancestor of him. At first Harry was confused as to why he was told to go back every time, as if there were no other Potters except the fathers of the fathers of his father, but after a few weeks he understood that this mysterious teacher probably died a long time ago, so if Death made him summon family members - which always was easier than summoning someone he had no connection with at all as he knew by now - it was probably to prepare him for another, more complicated summoning. Also, who else could say that he knew his great-great-great-great-grandfather in person?

Still, he was now even happier than before that he now had a living companion to play with and over the course of these months he and Sinistra grew even closer as he tended for her and she in turn gave him much needed company of someone who was at least mentally about his age. And since the meadow in Death's lair was basically an endless loop if you took the right route you could play tag and other games that needed space really well, which helped a lot in resolving any kind of stress that had accumulated over the week. Of course, now that their zoo visits in Britain were over for now, Death sometimes brought him to various museums throughout Great Britain for a change, but that just wasn't the same, playing with Sinistra was much more fun.

And Harry just knew that he would learn how to ride her once she was big enough for that!

ooo

And then finally, on the 29th of March, exactly one year (on Earth) after he had summoned his mother for the first time - not that Harry himself remembered that little detail - Death deemed him ready for the summoning. About time, in Harry's opinion, as he was now able to successfully summon any ancestor of his he wanted without much effort, as well as random people that had died, although that was a lot more taxing, especially while having to simultaneously concentrate on something different. Fortunately, Death had had an... acquaintance of some sort that Harry could use to train with, since the man that was born almost eight-hundred years before Harry didn't mind being summoned a lot and vanishing again when Harry lost his concentration.

But Harry had broken through this obstacle too and now he faced his new task:

Summoning Salazar Slytherin.

"W-What?", Harry asked as he first heard the name.

"You heard me correctly. The teacher I was talking about was, in fact, Salazar Slytherin himself. He was certainly the human with the best control over Parseltongue that ever lived, and he taught Hogwarts students back when he lived. That means he should be an adequate teacher, as long as you can show him proper respect. Do you think you will be able to do that?"

Harry fidgeted, wondering if that could really work out, but after a moment of thought he nodded. After all, what was the worst that could happen? That he somehow offended Salazar Slytherin, at which point he simply wouldn't summon him again. It would be a setback considering that he still wanted to learn Parseltongue but he would manage, if necessary.

"Good," Death continued, before stepping back, standing next to the wall of the class room. "Do your best, I will watch from the background."

That had become the normal procedure for his summonings by now, so Harry just nodded again, before he began to concentrate. He didn't know much about Slytherin as a person, but Death had told him quite a bit about him as a historical figure and founder of Hogwarts, so he concentrated on that, knowing that he needed at least some basic knowledge of someone before he could attempt summoning them.

So after a few moments of silently staring at one point, the air around it finally began to shimmer and a person faded into existence.

He certainly wasn't what Harry had imagined.

At first glance he looked a little bit like Death. He seemed to be about the same age physically, was pale and also had black, long hair, but his didn't stop at his shoulders, flowing down to his chest instead. Besides, his eyes weren't violet but brown and he had high cheekbones and dark eyebrows that were currently pulled into a frown, as confusion was evident in his face right now.

And then he spotted Harry.

"So now they use children for these rituals...?", he asked quietly, seemingly talking to himself, before he raised his voice. "Tell me child, who are you and when am I?"

Taken aback by the odd phrasing of the second question Harry needed a second before bowing politely, the way purebloods liked to see it.

"My name is Harry Potter and I am sorry for disturbing your peace, Slytherin Silvertongue," Harry greeted, hoping he hadn't laid the praise on too thick, but he had noticed that the dead were slightly happier after being summoned when he flattered them first. "May I ask you to explain your second question, sir? Have you been summoned before?"

The man shook his head. "No, but I know that you certainly aren't the first person to try. You're just the first to succeed. I'm surprised that a child would manage it first, what kind of ritual did you use?"

"Well... it wasn't really a ritual... Have you ever heard of the Peverell brothers? They lived... about two hundred years after your time..."

Slytherin nodded. "Yes, I do know of them, Cadmus' daughter married one of my descendants. Why?"

Cadmus had had children? Harry hadn't known that... But that probably explained how the Stone of Resurrection had been passed down through the generations...

"So you know about the Deathly Hallows?", Harry asked after a moment, awaiting Slytherin's nod before continuing. "Well... Basically, it was the power of the Resurrection Stone that brought you back." He didn't want to reveal too much - after all, Death was still watching and he always disapproved of spilling your secrets too easily - but he could understand why Slytherin wanted an explanation.

"Not bad for a child, really," Salazar complimented after a moment of surprised silence. "But what is the reason for this? I doubt you went through the trouble just for looking if you can."

"That's true... In fact, I was wondering if you could share some of your surely immense knowledge with me?"

Slytherin smirked. "Trying to flatter me to get what you want? Sorry kid, that were too many people who tried that. What is it that you want to know? I'll decide depending on that."

Harry fidgeted. "Um... It's basically everything concerning Parseltongue."

That made Slytherins eyebrows rise. "Parseltongue? Are you in fact some long lost descendant? Although I'm not aware of any connection to the Potter family... Who is your mother?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think I'm a descendant of you... at least not directly. The Potters are descendants of Ignotus Peverell if the Invisibility Cloak really always was given from fathers to sons... But that doesn't count. And my mother... well, she is a muggleborn witch..."

The last part was added very reluctantly on Harry's part, because everything he had read about Salazar Slytherin so far had indicated how he was the Hogwarts founder with the strongest anti muggleborn views... And Harry didn't really want to slim his chances with his maybe-teacher.

"Ah, well, that probably rules her out," Slytherin said easily, making Harry stare at him slightly surprised, as he had at least expected some kind of negative reaction... But the dead wizard only harrumphed as he noticed his look. "Now, why are you that surprised? Don't tell me you believe these rumours about my supposed hatred of muggleborns..."

"It isn't the truth...?"

"No, of course not!" Harry stared at him, disbelieving. Slytherin sighed. "Look: You know of Godric, Helga and Rowena, right?" Harry nodded, connecting the names to the other three founders, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. "Good. The short version of the story is that Godric had a rather... loud friend of his who was infatuated with Helga. It was a very one-sided infatuation, but he couldn't see it. And after I once noticed him making advances on her without her consent... well, let's say after that he found himself unable to procreate. I was rather good friends with Helga and Rowena, you know? But Godric was not amused after his friend told him his version of the story and confronted me a few days later about it. He and I were never close, so of course he did not believe the truth coming from me." He sighed. "In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have cursed him after growing frustrated with his inability to have a calm discussion and telling him where his muggleborn friend could shove his upbringing might also not have been my smartest move, but to my defence, I could not believe how he could even think that I was lying to him about that!" He huffed, shaking his head and collecting his thoughts for a moment, before continuing. "Well, after our confrontation he retaliated by telling everyone how I hated muggleborns and even though I had never said so myself I was not very popular amongst many, because I preferred teaching talented students. And because of their upbringing, more often than not these talented students knew of magic before they went to Hogwarts and thus were at least Halfbloods. So of course, most other people believed Godric and in the end I left. I do not need nor do I want to teach unwilling people!"

"But... didn't Helga Hufflepuff say something to help you?", Harry asked disbelieving, completely immersed in Slytherin's story.

"Oh, but she did," Slytherin responded, smiling a little as if remembering something amusing. "In fact, she gave Godric quite a lecture - I think he hadn't thought she had it in her up to that point - but the damage was already done. Still, I stayed in contact with Rowena and Helga and even met beautiful Helena and charming Belinda, their lovely daughters to continue their heritage. Although I have heard that Helena met a most unfortunate death, despite never seeing her in the afterlife..."

"That she did, but she wanted to stay as a ghost," Death confirmed, making Harry jump in surprise. It was so easy forgetting his presence when one was so immersed in another story...

But Slytherin saw him for the first time too, judging from his raised eyebrows.

"Well... that explains how a mere child was able to summon me."

"It does. But do not mind me, I am just watching your exchange as a bystander. Harry is the one that is interested in your knowledge, so simply talk to him."

Slytherin raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't comment, instead turning back to Harry.

"Well, fine. I guess I will teach you the subtle art of speaking Parseltongue and what to do with it. I don't even want anything in return, not that I could take a lot. Of course, if possible you could certainly try to dissipate these ugly rumours about me being a hateful person, but we will see about that. Let's start tomorrow."

Harry nodded hurriedly, just barely suppressing the huge grin that threatened to show on his face.

He would be learning Parseltongue, and from none other then Salazar Slytherin himself! That was crazy, but what other kid could ever say something like that about themselves? Sweet!

ooo

April passed quickly and in the first week of June Harry found himself in a small hut in Newport, Wales. Harry's studies had progressed nicely and because of that Death had announced this morning that he deemed the boy now ready for his first practical lesson concerning his 'job' as an apprentice. It was surprising, really, as after two years (at least for Harry) the most he had learned was working on the skills he already had - meaning turning invisible as well as summoning the dead. Still, Harry was nervous and horribly curious as he followed Death through the house of the just deceased human. It was a non-magical man, as Death had informed him, and he had passed away peacefully, because of old age, but while most old people went into the afterlife without many troubles, being escorted by Thestrals or Grims, this man obviously had a stronger will left to live, so Death went here in person.

Both of them were completely invisible as they walked though the house, searching the bedroom of the man, and once they had found him, Harry noticed several things at once.

First of all, it was the first corpse he ever saw and it didn't really look like one... In fact, it almost seemed as if the man were asleep. But the second thing he noticed easily proved otherwise, as much as it surprised Harry.

Directly above the dead man a silvery figure floated in the air, connected to the corpse through a thin, misty line that ended at the blanket, just at the spot where the heart of the body should be.

"The white figure you are probably seeing right now is the soul of the deceased," Death explained, easily guessing Harry's thoughts. "Although he probably doesn't know that he died yet. Just watch."

With that, Death's form shimmered for a moment. Not noticing anything different, Harry frowned for a moment until he heard the misty figure, that had only seemed confused until now, utter a gasp.

"W-What... What kind of trick is that?", the soul asked in a reverberating voice, making Harry realize that Death had probably just lowered the strength of his invisibility. As he knew by now, there were three stages of invisibility: The first was the normal one, that the Thestrals and Grims always used, where one could only be seen by people who had died or had seen someone dying - which meant they had unknowingly seen the soul leaving for the afterlife even though souls itself were invisible for humans. Some magical items could be used to reveal things going on in that first stage too. The second one was where one could only be seen by the dead, which meant souls and ghosts, which was what Death was normally using, as were the Grims when working. The third though was a whole lot different. Only Death and his creatures - and Harry, because of that ritual thing - could see into it at all (or hear anything that was said while being in this stage) and it was tough to slip into it. But once inside, one could even walk through solid matter! It was an easy way to get into basically any room - a necessity if someone died in a locked room or something alike that couldn't be accessed through the Shadow Portals of Death - but while the strong invisibility was easily maintained once it was changed into it was a lot harder to walk through solid matter, even more so with magical matter. It required a lot of concentration, so it was usually faster to rely on other means to get into a room, only using this kind of ability when any other way was unavailable or if time wasn't of the essence but stealth was.

But back to the soul of the man that was now able to see Death, while Harry stayed in his complete invisibility.

"You know who I am," Death said in his typical velvety voice without any emotions. Well, maybe it held a slight touch of annoyance, but Harry could have imagined that.

"No... That cannot be, I'm hallucinating!"

"You are not. In fact, you are dead."

Although it was all pretty serious, Harry was having difficulties to suppress a chuckle as the dry words of Death held a certain humour to a bystander. The humour vanished quickly though as the soul spoke again.

"Please, I cannot be dead! It's my son's birthday tomorrow, I promised him I would be there! Please, only one more day! Just for his birthday..."

"There is no 'one day longer'. You are already dead. I cannot make you come back to life, I can just ensure that you will be led to the afterlife."

"But, you are Death, are you not? Surely you must have a possibility-"

"I am Death, as you have so nicely put it. Why should I be able to bring people back to life? And you. Are. Dead!"

With that, the old man began to cry, much to Harry's horror. He hadn't expected the soul to argue like that, much less with such a good reason! How sad the son must be to discover his father's death on his birthday...!

But at the same time, Harry knew that Death's words were the truth. Not only because he simply wouldn't lie, but because it was obvious that the man really had died. That tiny silvery line was probably the only thing that prevented the soul from going to the afterlife, so even if Death had wanted to help, it didn't seem possible.

It took the man a few minutes to regain his composure, but seemingly this emotional outburst had helped, because he seemed a whole lot calmer now.

"I guess it really cannot be helped, can it?", he asked in a small voice.

Death shook his head. "I cannot do anything more for you than helping you passing onwards."

The man sighed. "Alright... Then do what you must..."

"I would suggest closing your eyes. It it less frightening that way," Death suggested and after the soul had followed his suggestion he pulled out his scythe.

Really, the first time Death had pulled that thing out of thin air, Harry had jumped back so fast that he fell over his own feet, successfully making contact with the floor. This scythe was bloody huge! A little bit larger than Death himself, with a dark brown shaft and a metal blade that was completely black. It looked horribly dangerous, but Death had soon explained to him that the scythe didn't cut through normal matter at all. In fact, it just cut one thing: souls. Not that this helped Harry much, considering that he very much wanted to keep his soul, thank you very much, so the scythe would certainly still be dangerous for him, but at least it wouldn't cut off any limbs or something. To cut the soul you would have to get a full swing through the torso of a living person - although Death normally wasn't permitted to kill people anyway.

But right now the person was already dead anyway, so Death carefully raised his scythe, before slowly moving the blade through the silver mist that connected soul and body. It dissolved immediately and the soul shimmered for a moment, before slowly dissolving, leaving Death and Harry alone in the house after a few seconds.

Harry blinked and stared at the now empty spot. That had been... anticlimactic. Sure, the whole scene had been very interesting and horribly sad, but also not even half as exciting as he had initially thought.

But oh well, he wouldn't be needed if this job would've always been cool, right? And there still was a lot of room for exciting things to happen, so... he would see what else was there to come...

I know it's been a while, but I've finally finished a new chapter for you! :)

And of course, the Parseltongue teacher was Salazar Slytherin, hope you liked his appearance! Also we finally got to see some of Death's work, more of that is to follow in the next chapter... And we will meet someone new, too, so stay tuned!

Thanks to everyone who is still reading and following/favouriting or reviewing this story despite it's pace having slowed down so much... You are all awesome!

Regards, Violet-san