Chapter by: AJFreas

- - - - Founders - - - -

Life at Hogwarts had been rather uneventful, so far, for which Salazar was quite grateful. He knew the quiet times wouldn't last so he prepared to enjoy the peace while it lasted. Unfortunately, that also meant there was the threat of boredom setting in. The tedium of routine was simply mind numbing. There were classes, homework, meals, and children. So. Many. Children.

Salazar had been pleasantly surprised at the sheer size of the school itself. The building had grown more than double the size since he had last seen it. Hogwarts was quite grand, yet the heart of the safe haven - the magic that he personally had weaved into the warding stone, his love for the school, his friends, his family, his students, the acceptance he was given, and sheer feeling of belonging, that he worked so hard to interweave into the wards - continued to be as warm and welcoming as always, though perhaps a bit faded.

Yet the children…

In the past thousand years, the school had needed to grow, yet in the last sixty-some years, the number of magical children had diminished rather drastically. While the number of students was more than it had been in their original time, the fact that more than half of the classrooms remained empty and unused was quite telling. And what that bit of information told Salazar was that the wizarding wars had depleted their people more than what was rumored. Worse, was that all of the founders were back which meant something ominous was approaching.

It was dinner time once again. Their second week at Hogwarts was coming to an end and there was soon to be a meeting of the minds between the reincarnated founders. Salazar wondered if the others were having better luck finding any clues as to what was happening. Something dire was on the third floor, but was that the only reason they were back? Salazar had little hope of answers, but it didn't diminish the yearning within him. He was clueless, and he hated that feeling. Salazar loathed fearing the unknown.

While partaking in the pudding, Salazar reflected on his thoughts of their school thus far. Salazar's first impression of Hogwarts itself was overwhelmingly positive. The building was even more beautiful than when it was built. Unfortunately the same could not be said about the way the school was run.

Salazar's own house began their year with History of Magic, followed by Transfiguration, and double Herbology. That wasn't counting the late evening class of Astronomy that began at ten. All of that on their very first day of classes. It was no wonder that nearly half of the first years were yawning through Astronomy and the early classes the next morning. Apparently, the other house prefects hadn't warned their first years to nap beforehand as his had suggested.

To calm his frazzling nerves Salazar smoothed his school tie. A bad habit he continually - mentally - reprimanded himself for doing. Salazar didn't like to appear distracted or weak, and a noticeable tick - such as smoothing his tie - could be misread as such. He looked to the high table and skimmed his gaze across the professors seated there. Salazar had always had a high regard for those who took on the mantle of professor or mentor. He himself had little patience to do such a thing for long. Salazar taught for five years before he had enough, but what truly stumped Salazar was Cuthbert Binns, professor of History of Magic. Salazar simply could not fathom why Cuthbert was still teaching. Salazar hadn't liked the young man when Godric had hired him and finding the man was still teaching astounded Salazar to no end. Cuthbert was a bore when he was alive and even more so as a ghost.

Thankfully Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology were taught by competent professors. McGonagall's no-nonsense style of teaching suited Salazar perfectly, especially since the entire subject was one he did not recognize. Flitwick was abundantly enthusiastic about Charms as he enraptured his students in the skill of creativity. Sprout managed to keep the children interested in her plants and their care. And then there was Potions with his Head of House.

At the start of class Snape had been petty and childish with his blatant attempts to embarrass the Potter boy much to the amusement of some of his classmates. The lesson did not improve as the hour ticked by. After the lecture was over, the brewing started and the mayhem began.

Snape simply wrote directions out in a nearly illegible scrawl and bellowed 'begin' at his students. Salazar had taught the subject eons ago and managed to do a better job of keeping his students safe. While the man's passion for potions was clear in his lecture - which Salazar could admit was informative and compelling - Snape's teaching style was confusing. It was their first class and several students had never been near a cauldron before. Which was blatantly obvious when a cauldron began melting and the potion within exploded.

Salazar was far from amused by Snape's antics and noted that Godric, sitting next to him, was just as annoyed with the man as he was. At least Godric managed to hold his tongue during class. Still he couldn't say why he felt this way, but Salazar knew there was something more to the man than what Snape showed on the surface.

Information - be it truth or rumor - was pure gold to any 'Slytherin' worth their salt and Salazar, being as true a Slytherin as humanly possible, would listen to everything said around him to figure out what Snape was hiding. After all, there simply had to be a reason why the man had so openly favored his house over the Gryffindors. None of the other Heads were that blatant with their favoritism and yet Snape was the Head of the students known for their cunning... Salazar found the man's behavior quite odd.

He pushed around the treacle tart on his plate and looked once more around the Great Hall at the students still gathered there. Salazar found the boredom he worried about was seeping its way into him. Classes were not keeping his attention, even if there were some new theories and spells, potions and plants to learn about, and these classmates of his were simply boorish. The entire Great Hall was buzzing with various conversations that were broken occasionally with bouts of laughter from either the Gryffindor or Hufflepuff table. Even Godric would have had to admit that his house was the most boisterous of the lot; all one had to do was observe the redheaded twins.

Salazar decided that the most difficult part about being reincarnated was that he was surrounded by the whines and petty problems of children. He kept having to remind himself that he should not expect others to act according to his high expectations of them. Salazar listened to those around him speaking in soft tones; the subject matter varied from the mundane to the ridiculous. Honestly, these simpletons were representatives of HIS house and should understand subtlety, cunning, ambition and self-reliance. Half of the students sporting green and silver were bullies, others were buffoons. Thankfully there were a few truly cunning students befit to honor his name, but if Salazar had to hear that child spout 'wait until my father hears about this' one more time…

It was as if thinking of that insolent buffoon somehow summoned him to the forefront. Salazar watched Draco Malfoy stroll away from the Gryffindor table - with a rather smug grin on his pointed face - on his way out of the Great Hall followed by his two sidekicks. Salazar's gaze narrowed as he searched the Gryffindor table for his friend. The bubbly man practically bounced in his seat while he ate his pudding. His short brunette hair bobbed around his face. Salazar barely resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation at the oblivious Godric Gryffindor.

Assuming Godric wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, Salazar pushed away from the table and went to his common room. Malfoy was obviously up to something and Salazar was determined to find out what it was. When he got to the common room, the boys were nowhere to be found and the entire room appeared to be empty.

Salazar pulled his wand from his sleeve and did a quick spell to ensure he was truly alone in the room. When the spell confirmed his suspicions, Salazar tucked his wand back into his sleeve and summoned the Slytherin house elf with a curt call, "Culley."

The soft pop announced her arrival before the diminutive creature bowed with a greeting, "Mistress-sir has called. How can Culley serve?"

"Is the Malfoy child in his dorm room?"

Culley cocked her head to the side as if listening through the stone walls and ceiling before turning her attention back to Salazar, "Nones in first year boy roomses."

"Interesting," Salazar said as he took his favored seat. Salazar had laid claim to the chair his first time in the room. It was an unspoken declaration that the other students hadn't even realized had been done, but the seat was always vacant upon his arrival. Salazar was perfectly positioned where he could see the entire common room with its rich deep green carpet that appeared nearly black, stylish sofas and armchairs positioned for comfort and camaraderie. There were several tables with chairs for studying, and a large fireplace to add warmth to the room. It was also conveniently located so Malfoy would have to pass him to get to the dorm room. Salazar looked to the elf and motioned vaguely with a hand, "Fetch my school bag. I want to be here when he returns."

"Yes, Mistress-sir," Culley bowed out with a pop and Salazar's bag appeared on the table before him.

Having already done each assignment as they were given to him, Salazar didn't have any homework to do so he placed a book, parchment, quill and ink neatly in front of him. He picked up the quill and dabbed the tip into the ink and was poised to write out the questions that plagued him.

1. Why were they reincarnated?

2. What evil has awakened at Hogwarts?

3. What game is Snape playing with Potter?

4. What caused Potter's head to hurt?

5. How did I arrive back in the common room before the simpletons when they left first?

6. What mischief is Malfoy brewing?

7. When did the Slytherin rooms get moved to the dungeons and why?

Salazar underlined 'why' three times before he huffed softly. That last question would have to wait. While it vexed him more than he'd admit aloud, the reasons weren't nearly as time sensitive as the others.

While Salazar didn't know what Malfoy was planning, he had a theory on who his intended target was. The Potter boy had spurned Malfoy's poorly performed offer of an alliance before the school year had started; therefore, it stood to reason that it was young Harry Potter that Malfoy was taunting. It was also obvious - by the look on Malfoy's face as he left the Great Hall - that he was up to some form of mischief. Perhaps the trio went to the library, but, as far as Salazar knew, Malfoy's two goons didn't go there if they could avoid it.

His quill paused as the entry opened and the volume of noise rose significantly. Salazar opened the book he had previously set on the table as students trickled into the room by pairs or small groups. Yet there was still no sign of Malfoy. Salazar rolled his parchment of notes and carefully placed them back in his bookbag. He slowly flipped pages from his book as he waited. It was another few minutes before the pointed-faced boy entered, followed once more by his two shadows. Malfoy no longer looked simply smug. No, the boy looked truly triumphant and ready to crow in his self-perceived accomplishment.

Salazar set all pretense of homework aside and peered at Malfoy as he walked across the room in his direction. Sitting back in his chair, Salazar was nearly forced to intervene and stop Malfoy from disappearing up the stairs but was saved by one of their first-year mates. Salazar watched with mild interest as Blaise Zabini gave Malfoy a cool look and observed, "You look rather pleased with yourself."

Malfoy stopped in his tracks and was momentarily riddled with confusion. Sitting in a small group were most of the first-year students. If one took a moment to evaluate where groups gathered, each group mostly consisted of year-mates with few exceptions. Malfoy visibly shook his head and straightened. "Of course I'm pleased. I have every right to be," Malfoy puffed with self-importance. If his nose could rise any higher, it did so when he continued to speak. After all, the Malfoy simpleton could not resist bragging, "I just single-handedly guaranteed Potter's expulsion."

"Doubtful," Zabini sniffed with disdain. "It's more likely that you made a spectacle of yourself."

Salazar was impressed that Zabini managed to refrain from rolling his eyes when he said this. He watched the students within earshot of their conversation for their reactions and found them quite interesting: Theodore Nott, Millicent Bulstrode, Lily Moon, Blaise Zabini, and - most surprisingly - Gregory Goyle were not fooled by Malfoy's posturing. Unfortunately for Vincent Crabbe, while he didn't appear impressed, he didn't appear to understand what was happening either. Then there was Pansy Parkinson who hung on every word that Malfoy uttered. Salazar was disappointed in the girl and wrote her off as a silly empty-headed twit. Daphne Greengrass and Scarlett Lympsham, the last two first years, had missed the conversation entirely as they were across the room in their own tête-à-tête.

The blonde canted his head momentarily and nearly gawked in bemusement. It wasn't a new expression on the pointed face. Salazar looked away before he laughed aloud and then felt his lips betray him with a twitch of amusement when he made eye contact with Nott. Unlike Salazar, Nott hadn't bothered to hide his delight.

Parkinson stood at the slight aimed at Malfoy. The twit stomped her foot like a spoiled toddler and placed her hands on her narrow hips. Parkinson scowled at Zabini as she screeched like a banshee, "You're wrong!"

"Am I?" Zabini challenged.

"And how, exactly, could you possibly know that, Parkinson?" Nott chimed in, his pleasure still evident on his face. "Malfoy hasn't even said how he managed this presumed feat."

"It was easy," Malfoy crossed his arms and huffed, "I challenged Potter to a duel at midnight and when he shows up out of bounds past curfew Filch will catch him."

"A duel which you, no doubt, will not be attending," Zabini scoffed. "The best you managed is possibly getting him a verbal reprimand, points lost, and detention; and that's only if he's caught."

Salazar relaxed at Malfoy's news. Zabini was right. With that crisis averted, Salazar closed his book with a snap and proceeded to put away his 'homework'. That managed to gain their attention and Salazar ignored the fact that all eyes were on him until asked by Nott, "You don't agree, Davis?"

Momentarily stilling his actions, Salazar met Nott's gaze, "On the contrary, I do agree." Salazar's lips quirked again, tugging into a small grin before he could lower his head and get back to putting his belongings away.

As Salazar walked away Nott asked, "Yes, but who do you agree with?"

- - - - Founders - - - -

The next morning on the way to breakfast Salazar was joined by housemates. He eyed Nott speculatively, "Why is my opinion so important to you?"

"It's not," Nott said in a faux bored tone. Zabini chuckled from behind them. Salazar didn't turn at the sound of his voice, but Nott did. "Hey now, who's side are you on?"

"He's a Slytherin," Salazar said, "He's on his own side." Zabini grinned in appreciation and gestured to Salazar as if the answer should have been obvious and asking it was a complete waste of breath. "As for my opinion, it is mine to share or not to share as I see fit."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin," Zabini stated in agreement. "I also believe the actions - or rather the inaction - of Malfoy not showing last night will reflect poorly on his illusory honor when this ill-conceived plan falls apart."

"How so?" Piped up yet another voice joining them. Bulstrode appeared to Salazar's right as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast. "If he's not there, then there's no proof he was involved."

"You're forgetting that the duel challenge was given here in the Great Hall during pudding last night at the Gryffindor table. There were witnesses, numerous witnesses," Salazar said as he took a seat at the table, ensuring he was facing the room. Zabini sat on his left, Nott was on his right. "And since we all know Malfoy's lack of character, he most likely played to the audience of Gryffindors, who are notoriously as subtle as a hippogryph in an alchemy shop."

"I…" Bulstrode, on the other hand, landed rather hard on the bench across from them and peered at Salazar, "Okay, you have a point." She then looked from one boy to the other with a raised eyebrow, "Cozy?"

"Quite," stated Zabini as he passed the platter of rashers to Salazar.

"You don't want to watch the coming show?" Asked Nott and accepted that same platter from Salazar before offering it to Bulstrode.

Bulstrode ignored the offered food to look behind her towards Malfoy who was at that very moment strutting into the Great Hall. She grinned hugely at Nott and skirted around the table to have a better view. By the time Bulstrode was resettled, her demeanor was back to stoic and she accepted the rashers with a proper thanks.

Malfoy took a seat with his book ends and Parkinson hanging on his every word. Those words came to a complete stop as Potter and the youngest Weasley boy came rushing in for breakfast. The four Slytherins watched as the Weasley boy grinned widely at a gaping Malfoy. Salazar searched the Gryffindor table for his friend and met Godric's gaze. Godric gave a lopsided grin and Salazar returned a small nod.

Zabini sipped his tea before reiterating, "Verbal reprimand, points lost, and detention. Although if I were a betting man, I'd wager Potter and Weasley managed to not get caught last night."

"What?" Snapped Malfoy as his head swiveled in Zabini's direction. "How could you know that?"

"The hour glass still has points in it," Zabini noted with a nod towards the Entry Hall. "We both know if Filch or Snape had caught Potter out of bounds, there wouldn't be a single one left."

Salazar smiled into his own tea as Nott once again laughed aloud and was joined by Bulstrode's soft - surprisingly girly - giggle.