Hiding at Hogwarts

~ by Healer Pomfrey ~

All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes.

3 – The Chamber

"Excuse me, sir, but what are we doing here?" Harry asked the portrait, causing Salazar to chuckle.

"Are you frightened?" he queried, raising an eyebrow in a way that reminded Harry of Professor Snape.

"No sir," Harry lied, anxiously glancing around.

"Since you seem to be my heir, I want to show you something. I don't think Tom Riddle ever found out, since he is only the heir of my younger brother and not mine, just like Severus Snape is the heir of my older sister." He guided Harry through a small opening in the wall that appeared after hissing "Open" once again.

Harry looked around in disbelief as he found himself in a living room. It was built around a fireplace and was equipped with several wooden chairs and an old wooden table as well as a bookshelf.

"Touch the snake's head on the bookshelf," Salazar instructed him, and Harry curiously obliged, making the bookshelf move sideward.

Harry let out a huge gasp as he stepped into the room, which the bookshelf revealed. It was full with bookshelves, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, and could rival the size of the Hogwarts library. 'A library,' he realised, 'and a huge one.' "Is this your personal library, sir?" he asked.

"Yes, my boy. The last three rows contain books in Parselscript; all the other books are written in old English. However, Rowena can teach you a spell, which you can use to change old English into modern English. Unfortunately or fortunately," he smirked, "this spell doesn't work on Parselscript."

Harry chuckled. "I can understand Parseltongue, but I don't know if I'll be able to read it," he admitted and stepped over to one of the rows Salazar had indicated for the books in Parselscript.

"Take the fifth book from the right," Salazar instructed him, and Harry curiously opened the relatively thin book. "It's my diary," the Founder added, causing Harry to gasp.

"Yes sir, I can read it," he confirmed.

"Very good. You can come back some time and translate a few of my Potions manuals into modern English. At that time I thought I was clever to write them in Parselscript, so that no one else could find out about my inventions. However, there are many recipes, which I would like Severus to know. As I told you, he is a relative of mine as well, and I'm very proud of him. He is the only acceptable Potions Master I've ever known."

"He is said to be the best Potions Master Britain has ever seen since your time, sir," Harry replied, feeling very uncomfortable at the thought of the Potions Master. "Unfortunately, he hates me with a passion, although I don't even know why."

The man in the portrait chuckled. "I can tell you the reason. You very much resemble your father, who was a complete bully, especially towards Severus. He doesn't know that the two of you are related though, and I'm sure that the translation of one or two selected potions recipes can make him a very valuable ally for you."

Harry threw the man a doubtful look, before he asked, "Which books would you suggest to take with me? During the holidays, I've lots of time to translate."

Salazar cleared his throat. "Turn me around, so that I can see the shelf," he sneered.

'Oh, of course; I'm stupid,' Harry thought and turned the small frame. "Bring me nearer to the shelf, more to the right," the Potions Master in the portrait growled, causing Harry to inwardly chuckle. 'I can see Snape in him,' he mused, 'although Salazar seems to be much nicer.'

In the meantime, Salazar seemed to have spotted what he had been searching for and instructed Harry, which books he wanted him to take with him. It was quite a pile, and Harry had to cast a shrinking charm on the books in order to fit them into his robe pocket. Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly, causing the Founder to smirk.

"Behind the bookshelf over there," he pointed to a shelf at the far end of the room, "is my private Potions lab, but we'll visit the lab the next time. I better lead you to the kitchens now, before my wife kills me for starving you," he smirked and led Harry back out of his secret chambers.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

To Harry's huge surprise, in the kitchen, several dozen house-elves surrounded him as soon as he took his invisibility cloak off and offered him any kind of food he might even be able to think of.

Suddenly, Dobby stood in front of Harry, bowing deeply. "What is the great Harry Potter doings here?" he asked, astonished, causing Harry to tell him about his stunt.

"Dobby wills always be grateful because Harry Potter freed me. Professor Dumbledore offered me to work at Hogwarts, and Dobby is being paid. Dobby is still a free elf." He proudly showed Harry his new outfit. "Dobby wills cares for Harry Potter as long as he lives in Professor Hufflepuff's quarters. Harry Potter cans calls Dobby at anytime."

"Thank you so much, Dobby. In fact I'd prefer to eat in Professor Hufflepuff's quarters, because I don't want to meet the Headmaster here."

"Dobby wills brings the meals to Harry Potter, no problem," Dobby reassured him firmly, and Harry felt very relieved when he was on his way back under his invisibility cloak.

'Who knows if Dumbledore doesn't go to the kitchens to have cocoa from time to time,' he mused as he headed back to Helga's quarters, when suddenly Salazar began to talk to him from the mini portrait, which he had slipped into his robe pocket.

"Before I forget... Don't tell Rowena and Godric where the entrance to my personal rooms is," he said sternly. "They have been trying to find it out for nearly one thousand years."

Harry grinned and promised to keep the secret. He entered Helga's quarters and carefully placed Salazar's portrait back into the drawer, thanking the Founder profusely for taking him to the kitchen, before he made himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room, piling Salazar's books as well as his school books on the table. 'Let's get a head start on my summer assignments, before I begin with the translations,' he thought.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

During the first week of the holidays, Harry worked on his homework in the mornings and on the translations in the afternoon, noticing soon that it was very convenient to have four full grown witches and wizards at his side, who were readily willing to help when he had questions. Dobby came and brought him something to eat and drink whenever Harry called him. Two days into the second week, Harry finished the last of his summer assignments.

"Thank you so much for your help," he told the Founders. "I'm so glad I could finish my homework, because I couldn't do anything at all last summer, because my relatives took all my books from me."

"Well, from now on we're going to teach you," Rowena informed him. "We will take turns teaching you in the mornings. You'll still be able to do some translations during the afternoons and in the evenings."

"No," Helga objected firmly. "The poor child has to get out sometimes. He needs some fresh air. Just look at him. He is already pale as a ghost." Turning to Harry, she explained, "Somewhere, Salazar is keeping a small portrait of mine. Ask him to lead you there and get it. Then I will take you to a small herb garden, which is situated on one of the roofs. Only Madam Pomfrey and Severus Snape have access to it."

"I can take the boy there," Salazar growled, causing his wife to chuckle.

"No problem, Sal. Go on then. I just thought you were tired of leading Harry here and there."

Harry grinned. The four friends in the painting spent much time teasing each other and carrying out small fights about nothing. 'I love the atmosphere here. It's so very relaxing,' he thought as he tried to concentrate on his translation of Salazar's diary.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" Helga suddenly asked, seeing that Harry was rubbing his forehead for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, I'm fine," Harry replied, thinking that his grandmother was very observing. Unfortunately, he didn't feel all too well. He had the impression as if he became more tired by the day, and a dull ache behind his temples had been pestering since the previous day. He decided to go to bed early, hoping that he would feel better in the morning. 'I should get up early, so that I can finish Salazar's diary before my morning classes with the Founders. I wonder what they're going to teach me,' he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

tbc...

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