Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim ownership of anything that I write about which is previously claimed by J.K. Rowling. I am writing this piece of fiction solely for the purpose of writing and am gaining nothing from this in the way of compensation.

I know that in the last chapter, I said that I would update weekly. I apologize, but my proofreader didn't reply to my e-mails asking about my stories until last night. This chapter is late, but Chapter 6 will either be posted today, on time, or tomorrow. I have him working ahead of schedule with the next three chapters already, so they will be released on time, hopefully.

Here's Chapter 5, enjoy!

-Parseltongue-

Harry could only stare at the man, Salazar Slytherin. Even for a portrait, the man conveyed a sense of danger and an aura of power. The silence grew all the more tense as others heard the hissed language of their house. Wary looks were traded, but he didn't notice as focused as he was on his distant relative. He could feel Nagini stir before she moved from underneath his cloak, eliciting a palpable stench of fear and uneasiness from the other students.

Salazar trailed his gaze to the creature, interest sparking in cold viridian. Harry gathered himself as the weight of those eyes fell off of him, allowing him reprieve from their ancient scrutiny. The mental assault left him off kilter, but he easily pulled back his emotions once again in an effort to take in this situation with cool logic. It shook him, however, that his skills in the defensive mind art were rendered so ineffective.

With his faithful familiar beside him, he decided to make the ripples he had already formed crest that much higher.

Bowing slightly, which returned attention to him, he replied similarly -I thank you, Elder Sssalazar.-

Said man smirked as a few shuddering gasps left their audience. Nagini eyed the portrait before following suit, as this man was a famous speaker in his own right. Although he knew that this portrait had sat empty during her last stent in the serpent den. He barely held in a smirk as he imagined the fury and indignation felt by Voldemort when his ancestor failed to appear before him.

Salazar spoke again, -I wasss sssurprisssed when I felt the magicsss ssshift. Imagine my confusssion when I felt not jussst the Gaunt magic, but all of the magicsss of the cassstle ssswarm to one perssson.- The man raised an eyebrow at him, and he surprisingly felt a tad embarrassed.

A small noise to his left made him pause in his thoughts. A positively devious idea came to mind as he sent a significant look to Salazar, who chuckled ominously.

Nagini curled around his feet and rose her head proudly, which drew a small whimper from a certain blond. He set his face in a blank, if somewhat proud, look and turned his head as though observing the others. The many faces showed their age and maturity, as the elders showed none of the anxiety and fear that he could read from the younger.

Deciding he had all captured their attention thoroughly, he spoke in a carefully measured voice, "There have been startling revelations tonight, I know, but I would prefer if you would allow me my privacy for the time being. I assure you that all things will be revealed in time."

He could have told them everything then and there, but this way played into his image he would have to generate for himself in an attempt to draw the Slytherin house, and its influential parents, to his side. Salazar must have seen his ambition and goals for the house, as that was the only reason he could imagine the famously cunning man blatantly exposing one of his heirs.

-You will find my roomsss behind thisss portrait. Asss with the fresssco protecting thisss room, you only need ssstep through to enter.-

He snapped his attention towards the portrait once more, before nodding his gratitude towards the man. Said man's eyes narrowed thoughtfully before he walked out-of-frame.

Before Harry could think on why the man would leave so quickly, he noticed when someone entered the wards he had been recently tied too, them whispering the name of his head of house in his mind. He shot a quick, forceful stare around the room for the others to notice him as he mouthed Snape.

Even those in his year had the proper knowledge of decorum and tact, straightening themselves and donning blank faces. He himself quickly went towards an open wingback chair done in a bottle-green leather, Nagini slithering to curl in front of the roaring, now returned to normal, fire.

It was only a moment later that the dour man appeared from the wall, intriguing him by the fact that it looked like he had exited a curtain of water instead of solid stone. There was a subtle air around the man that was different than how he held himself like earlier, something just seemed off with him. There was also the fact that those eyes locked with his the second he had finished his initial sweep of the room.

Those eyes were contradictory in a way, showing multiple emotions in quick succession while holding a distinct hollow quality. Empty wasn't the proper word Harry had for them, more like lightly vacant. The man also held the most subtle sag to his previously straight shoulders. The thing that made him somewhat uncomfortable, but unendingly curious, was the longing he could pick up in the cocktail of emotions he saw swirling in inky depths.

All of this happened in little time, seemingly a moment, and the man closed his expression once more before speaking, "Welcome to the House of Slytherin." Harry took notice of the mans lack of the word noble, meaning he must have been informed by one of the two professors.

"This house has an ancient history of raising and moulding the future leaders of our world, meaning you all have potential to become influential. For this reason, which most of you must realize at this point, you are expected to hold yourself to a different standard than all others." His voice had a hypnotic quality in its staccato tone, clipped and unmoving in its demand. The man certainly knew how to hold attention without raising the volume.

Those eyes narrowed now. "You shall not allow this house to have its reputation tarnished any more that what it has. All, and I mean all, issues shall be settled in these walls, never outside. You will be the best of your years as that is what you are. You were chosen because you had the drive and determination, the skill and knowledge, the strength to handle the cutthroat world many of you wish to throw yourselves into. You are the best, so I expect the best."

He added to his mental profile of the man, knowing that he was as sharp as his tongue if Nagini were to be believed. This was not a man he could underestimate in any way. He was much too dangerous. That longing from before put him on edge, as he wasn't sure where its roots latched.

The man gave one more narrowed glare around a visibly nervous room, before one last glance was thrown in his direction. Still holding his gaze, the man spoke one last time, "Be prepared for classes tomorrow, good evening." Then he turned on his heel, billowing out his jet robes, and left as he had come. In silence.

There was a tense moment, before he decided to make his exit as well. Standing, and making all eyes snap to him once again, he and Nagini walked, or slithered, straight through the empty portrait, leaving behind the numbed minds of his fellow classmates unsure of what the future held.

The room he entered was somewhat what he expected, yet not at all as well. It was spacious, nearly the same size as the common room he had exited. The floors were black marble, the ceiling and walls holding the same cave-like feel that the rest of the dungeons had held. A singular fireplace of the same marble the floor was made of sat at one end of the rectangular space, though it was much larger. Sconces trailed the walls, the same flames that had appeared earlier taking their places within them.

The room was divided into what seemed to be a small lounge, situated near the mantle, a section partitioned off with shelves to resemble a small library nearby. The other half of the room held a large, ornate cast iron bed with a canopy of darker-green silk. The duvet and sheets were a lighter, emerald color with silver pillow shams. A dresser stood on its left, next to an expansive wardrobe. Two other doors stood directly across from his on the opposite wall. An image formed in his mind of a luxurious bathroom and a small office.

Deciding that his connection to the wards was wonderful, he sank into a chair in the lounge area. Nagini decided to drape herself across him like only she could, seemingly ridiculous and dignified simultaneously. He snorted when she turned to look at him with a 'what are you waiting for?' expression, making him reach out a hand to stroke down her spine as she liked. She really was like a dog at some times, though he didn't think dogs could be such drama queens. Or nearly as scary as she was when pissed, he shivered.

He began one of his mental exercises as a way to calm himself and think about all that happened today. He expected that tomorrow would be hectic as people outside and inside of Hogwarts realised that yes, he was the Harry Potter, even if he decided to go by Harrison to those he wasn't close to. He could almost imagine the pandemonium that the next few days would bring as he was revealed to the world, as a Slytherin no less, all the while bonded to Voldemort's familiar.

He was pleased with himself though. His plans to gain the Slytherins' interest was only helped with the surprise of Salazar Slytherin himself holding a conversation with him in parseltongue. That had been startling to say the least, as Nagini had informed him that the portrait had remained empty for the totality of Voldemort's time at the school. That made him wonder at the wards he was now keyed into. Had Voldemort had the same amount of control that he does over them? Did he have any control at all?

It would explain how he was able to corral all of those pureblood heirs and students to him if he could use them. Even now he knew the name of every person in the house and where they were, including Snape in an office that was connected to the wards close by.

He had these advantages on top of other advantages he would have already had, but that also made him nervous.

When would the other shoe drop? He had been lucky that Dumbledore and McGonagall had been so supportive of his ideas so far, but what would happen now that he would have to deal with all the others that were top players in the world? He may be intelligent, he may know things that give him an advantage, he may be more powerful than your average eleven-year-old, but there were people he was going to be making enemies of that had all of those things in spades.

He sighed, realizing that Nagini wouldn't have let him come and reveal himself if she didn't believe he had a good chance, even great, of accomplishing the things that he set his mind to. Humans may be paranoid, but they had nothing on the self-preservation skills of a true snake.

Deciding that he was too worked up over things that would come to pass with or without his influence, he focused on the faint spark of his active magic, willing it to come to the surface of his skin and through his extremities. The rush of electrifying power came to him as it had for quite some time, his control over manipulating it having been one of the first things had did when he had turned five and his first internal limiter had dissolved.

He would have to do his exercises more though, as he felt a small portion of his magic attempt to rebel against his restraint. Well, his second limiter had dissolved on his last birthday, so he wasn't too surprised or annoyed.

The rhythmic pulsing of his internal magic, combined with the hum of the wards in his mind lulled him into a relaxed, numb state before he drifted off to sleep.

He slept peacefully under the watchful eyes of his familiar and the hidden eyes of the ancient founder.

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, eyes unfocused as thoughts ran unbidden through his mind. Opposite him sat his two most trusted staff, Minerva and Severus.

Even in his distracted state he noticed the blank stare of the dour potions master, no doubt pondering the same boy as he and Minerva. He could only imagine the total upheaval that the man must be going through with tonight's revelations. Lily Evans, before the incident during their schooling, had been the man's only companion in a place where he was besieged by not only the three other houses, but his own as well. Seeing the presumably deceased child of his, to his knowledge, only source of affection must be affecting him in ways the even he couldn't understand.

Minerva was slightly disappointed with the young man's placement, based on her current disposition. From the day they had returned from their enlightening, and exhausting he admitted, meeting with the boy, she had been hoping for the child she had known as an infant to enter the house of two of her favorite cubs as she liked to think of Gryffindor students.

Deciding there had been enough silence, he spoke, catching their attention immediately. "There have been some startling revelations tonight."

Minerva snorted, dashing any attempts at decorum, before looking at him in annoyance. "Startling revelations, Albus? I've never seen the students, or teachers for that matter, so out of sorts." Here she sent a side-eyed glance at Severus, who didn't seem to notice or gave no indication otherwise.

"Yes I must agree with you, and I don't believe tomorrow shall be calm, if the number of owls that were sent out of the owelry are any indication." He grimaced slightly at that thought, blonde hair and green quill flashing through his mind momentarily. He wasn't the only one to have thoughts of that nature if the pinched look and scowl he received were any indication.

He continued on. "We shall just continue on as normal, and prepare for any situation that may arise when the news spreads."

After that, a heavy silence enveloped the room's occupants. Finally, Minerva brought up the pink elephant in the room.

"Severus, what are you thoughts on tonight's events?"

He looked at her for a moment before speaking in a soft tone. "He is truly Harry Potter?"

Knowing the conversation would be difficult from this point on, Dumbledore spoke up,"Yes, my boy. He is truly Harry Potter, found again after many years."

The younger took his time to word the question properly. "And you both knew of him for some time?" his eyes became piercing here "What do you know?"

The two elder professors looked their age at that moment.

Dumbledore spoke to the man, giving him a thorough explanation of the events some weeks ago. The man sat quietly, barely showing a minimal reaction to some of the information he was presented with.

The boy was completely different than Severus had ever imagined him. He had, at first through bitterness, imagined a young imitation of James Potter, the scourge. But, as time went by, he could begin to think that maybe the boy would have held more of Lily's, the name bringing pain to him even in thought, features and gorgeous, entrancing eyes.

But no, the boy held features of both his parents and some foreign to either. If he was honest with himself in the privacy of his mind, then he would admit that the boy was striking, the only word that fit the atypical child. The boy actually reminded him of a younger Black with his aristocratic bone structure and wavy, black hair.

The eyes were mystifying and haunting at the same time. Green, unlike his mother's precious emerald, were bright and pale. They were innocent, yet held knowledge and strength that belied the young age. A contradiction at its finest.

Deciding he had been quiet for long enough, he brought up the one more alarming piece of information, his familiar.

"The boy's familiar...is Nagini? There will be consequences of the highest order if any of the old sycophants were to gain wind of this. Though, that ship will have sailed at this point if my Slytherin's have seen the creature." His voice ended as dry as aged paper.

And wasn't that just perfect? The recently resurrected saviour will be, he grimaced, in the company of those who would most likely be the first marked when the Dark Lord returned from his current exile.

Oh yes, he, just as the others in the office, knew quite a bit about Tom Riddle's quest for the unobtainable.

What had the psychopath been thinking when delving into Black Magick? Had he been so arrogant to think that the demons he consorted with would not be able to defy his orders? Foolish. His skin crawled at the pure insanity that was required to perform the rituals needed.

Gaining control of his derailed thoughts, he took a deep breath and spoke. "Before you ask me anything Albus, know that I shall do what I must to protect the child." His eyes bored into the Headmaster's, giving weight to the declaration as they were the only ones in-the-know of his circumstances of leniency. The older man caught his intention, if the almost nonexistent nod that was shown was any indication.

The three sat again in the quiet that had plagued them many times that night, knowing that times ahead of them would be troubling. But as they began to discuss other things both about the school and outside, all knew that the future was infinitely brighter than it had been.

All because of one enigma of a boy.

It had been one month from the time classes began, and Harry was pleased with himself that both his school work and, erm, extracurricular activities had been going smoothly, especially with the aid of his unexpected tutor.

Meeting the old founder had been a double-edged sword if he were to be asked. The man knew the intricacies of the family magic more than any other minor source he had found in the scarce tomes on the subject back home. Parseltongue was so much more diverse than he had realised, it having aspects that encompassed all three areas of the Grey Magick. The light magic abilities allowing a form of healing that was used in conjecture to a serpent conjured using the parselmouth's magic.

The neutral magic gave the spoken language itself, though that was all it did, and the dark magic giving the ability to hold dominion over all snakes and serpentine reptiles.

There were, sadly, no spells per se, as the magic was truly about intent. So, only a word spoken in the language with true intent allowed the magic to be used at all.

However, as much as he enjoyed learning from the man, he was acerbic and cruel. He truly did despise muggleborns, because in his time they were nothing more, usually, than 'uneducated fools' in his words. When he had found about about Harry's mother's lineage, he had been incensed that the holder of his legacy was not pure.

Cruel indeed.

It mattered little to Harry, who had long since learned a spell to block his ears from sounds. The man's vitriol amused him more than anything, as he couldn't retaliate properly with the portrait holding dominion over the wards and a substantial amount of magic too.

Still, other than that he had been focusing on learning more about Hermione and his other current targets, Professor Snape and Theodore Nott.

The Slytherins typically had classes with the Ravenclaws, meaning he had been able to learn that both of his current interests, student-wise, were incredibly intelligent, much like himself. Apparently Nott held none of his father's views, making him come to he and Hermione during a study session in the library, asking to join. Though he wasn't going to trust the boy totally, he was in the house of cunning after all.

The boy was tall, lanky, and brunett. His eyes were cornflower blue and continually bored. His bored mask didn't, however, take away from the dry wit and snarky comments that had both he and Hermione in stitches.

Hermione had the typical genius attitude, meaning she was extremely competitive with others who threatened her place as number one in the class standings. His own backstory and life was more than interesting as he could infer from the scholastic, and lightly mad-scientist, expressions whenever he spoke about his life growing up or the Sanctuary.

Professor Snape was a puzzle within a riddle for all he could learn from the man, his expression blanked so thoroughly that he appeared to be a mannequin. If the rumors of the other students was to be believed, then the man was acting completely different this year, his previous behavior being snarky and somewhat hateful, but he had seen none of that in any of his observations during class or not.

These thoughts ran through his mind as he prepared to leave D.A.D.A. and prepare for potions, hoping to find something new today about the mysterious man.

"Mr. Potter, a word if you would?" He looked up from his bookbag at the person who had spoken.

However, there was one problem that was bothering him.

The current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor worried him immensely. Her eyes were sharp, a dark yellow that put him and his two -dare he say- friends on guard the whole time they were around her. Dirty-blonde hair fell pin-straight down to the small of her back, her skin so pale that her veins could be seen if one looked hard enough.

Professor Smith was someone he had decided to avoid at all costs, as there were times when she would stare at him and Hermione with this uncharacteristic glint of possessiveness and hunger. He shivered just imagining what ran through the military-strict woman's mind during those times. He had an inkling as to why the mother of one of his classmates laid her attention with the two of them, and it would confirm some of the theories he had at the time. He just didn't want to risk it until he had more information.

It seemed he wasn't going to be given the choice of avoiding her anymore.

He donned his pack, before shooting Theo and Hermione a quick smile to alleviate their worried expressions. He stepped up to the waiting woman as the door closed behind him, desperately wishing Nagini was with him for support as the woman's usually stern mouth quirked into a knowing smirk that set him on edge

"There are things we must discuss, my fellow heir."

His stomach dropped.