CHAPTER 8: THE FOIBLES OF HUMANITY

As Harry traversed the ancient corridors of Hogwarts, he couldn't help but notice the weathered portraits adorning the walls, their once-vibrant colors now faded and cracked. These centuries-old tapestries, along with gleaming suits of armor, provided a majestic backdrop to his thoughts. With a nonchalant sweep of his hand, he brushed away the remnants of his lunch, which now commingled with the crumbs from his earlier breakfast.

His frustration was palpable, and he couldn't help but blame Hermione for it. He flung the last morsel of his sandwich at a nearby suit of armor, his irritation evident. Hermione's relentless pursuit of superiority and her deep-seated fear of insignificance grated on him.

Unobtrusively, Harry withdrew his wand from its concealed location within his robe sleeve and made the sandwich remnant vanish into thin air. He mused to himself, "If Hermione keeps up with this obsession, she'll find herself with fewer friends than I have." His wand returned to its covert sanctuary. "And I still need a secure place to practice my magic while I'm using the time-turner in the Chamber of Secrets."

A peculiar door materialized between two age-old tapestries, catching Harry's attention. He raised an eyebrow, warily eyeing the corridor in both directions before carefully turning the latch. "I hope there's nothing as dangerous as a three-headed hellhound behind this one," he murmured.

As the door creaked open, an entirely different world greeted him. Crisp, white walls gleamed with an otherworldly luster. Harry, undeterred, assessed the situation. "It's a bit too sterile for my liking, but it will suffice. I just need to conjure some practice targets."

The shadows congregated in the room's corners, taking on eerie, skeletal shapes draped in tattered, ethereal robes. A wry grin spread across Harry's face as he realized the truth. "The Room of Requirement," he whispered with a sense of wonder. "Salazar wasn't just telling tales. This is absolutely perfect."

Exiting the room, Harry gently closed the door, witnessing as it seamlessly blended back into the stonework. It was an impeccable concealment.

With a rush of excitement, Harry raced toward the Chamber of Secrets, sprinting down the stairs and nimbly leaping over the bridge as it materialized over the water's surface. Breathless and elated, he exclaimed, "I found the Room of Requirement!" His words dissipated into gasps as he bent over the desk, catching his breath. "I found the Room of Requirement."

Salazar arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Really?"

Harry, still panting, nodded vigorously. "Yes."

Salazar's curiosity grew, and he leaned in. "Where is it?"

"It's on the sixth floor corridor. I stumbled upon it by chance," Harry replied, gesturing toward the small, golden hourglass hanging around his neck. "And I can use the time-turner there."

Salazar's face darkened. "No, you can't. The hourglass can't leave the Chamber of Secrets. I'm quite sure I already told you that, you forgetful brat."

Harry, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, pretended to ponder. "You might have mentioned it. But then again, you're getting even more senile than you already are."

Salazar, clearly unimpressed, muttered a string of choice words in parseltongue. "You can go to the Room of Requirement, then return here and repeat the time in the Chamber. That way, you won't risk encountering yourself. Though, given that you're aware of your actions, it shouldn't pose a significant problem."

Harry, seeking further clarification, inquired, "So, no paradoxes?"

Salazar snorted. "Why would the entirety of existence collapse just because there are two of you for a brief moment? Even you can't cause that level of chaos. Time and space are malleable concepts, not rigid lines. The time-turner merely helps you bend them a bit more to your advantage."

Harry mulled over the complex information Salazar had shared, muttering to himself, "I feel like it takes a considerable amount of study to really understand what you just said."

Salazar chuckled knowingly. "I'd recommend taking my word for it; it'll save you time and effort."

Harry's brows furrowed as a memory resurfaced. "I've used a time-turner before, and I'm fairly certain I saw myself, but I didn't realize it was me until later. I inadvertently created a self-fulfilling loop."

Salazar, with his serpent companion coiled around his features, grumbled, "You'll have to contend with that every time you use it." He swatted at the snake to move it away. "Get off, you wretched creature." With a swift motion, he tied the serpent into a knot, but it continued to wriggle around Harry's neck, occasionally bumping his chin. "Now, why are you here?"

Harry recounted his reasons. "I've got a list of things I want to learn—Apparition, Mind Arts, and the Disillusionment Charm. Oh, and there's this random French girl who stole my glasses, attempted to interrogate me, and then vanished. I'm fairly certain she used the Disillusionment Charm, and it looked rather useful."

Salazar, his serpent now draped along his shoulders, addressed the pesky reptile. "If you don't behave, you irritating piece of living upholstery, I'm going to transfigure you into a worm."

Ignoring the snake's antics, Harry continued, "I stumbled upon some muggle mind exercises that seem to help clear your thoughts and enhance focus. They appear similar to magical ones, but I can't easily access the restricted section to verify."

Salazar offered some insight. "Occlumency is the art of guarding your mind, though it's somewhat of a misnomer. What you're truly doing is emptying your thoughts, so an intruder can't discern anything."

Harry nodded, beginning to grasp the concept. "That makes sense."

Salazar nodded with a hint of pride. "I can imagine it would be fascinating. My daughter surpassed even my own abilities in that domain, and Tom—well, he was certainly no novice either."

Harry, eager to learn, inquired, "So, is that all there is to it?"

Salazar uncrossed his arms and leaned in, a serious expression on his face. "Not at all. Legilimency is often considered the counterpart to Occlumency, but that's a superficial understanding. Mind magic is intricate and subtle, and these labels don't truly capture their complexity." He thought for a moment. "Let's start with apparition. It's an incredibly useful skill, especially in dire situations."

Harry nodded attentively. "Alright, how do I go about it?"

Salazar provided concise instructions. "Focus on your destination. Concentrate your mind and your willpower on that place. Will yourself to be there. However, make sure your concentration and determination are unwavering. Otherwise, you might end up in multiple places at once, and that could be fatal. My heir shall not perish due to splinching. Godric would probably have a good laugh in the afterlife if that were the case."

Taking the painting off the wall, Harry proceeded to move it over the bridge. Curious, he inquired, "What about the wards? I've heard that you can't apparate within the school. Once, twice, maybe a hundred times."

Salazar clarified, "The Chamber of Secrets exists outside of Hogwarts' protective wards. There was no need to include it within the school's wards, given that it's already more heavily warded than the rest of the castle. Even if the headmaster were to activate anti-apparition wards for Hogwarts, they wouldn't affect you here."

With this knowledge in mind, Harry visualized the far side of the chamber and attempted to apparate.

His stomach churned, and his vision blurred. "Urgh." Harry stumbled and knelt down, fighting the nausea. "Bloody hell."

Salazar tsked in disappointment. "That was rather dreadful. What were you thinking? Haven't you ever seen someone apparate before?"

Breathing deeply to regain his composure, Harry admitted, "No, I haven't."

Harry's revelation that he'd never seen anyone apparate before left Salazar momentarily astounded. He retorted, "You've never seen anyone apparate? Have you been living under a rock for the past fourteen years?"

Harry sighed and explained, "I was raised by muggles and currently live with them."

Salazar's understanding expression replaced his surprise. He offered advice, "Oh, I see. In that case, envision it as though you're not moving, but rather some impossible force is twisting the world itself, placing you exactly where you've pictured."

Taking Salazar's guidance to heart, Harry concentrated and envisioned the tip of the forked, serpent-like bridge. He mentally willed the world to shift around him.

His magic responded, and a resounding crack filled the Chamber of Secrets. In an instant, he stood at the end of the bridge, a triumphant grin on his face. "Yes!"

However, a sudden wave of nausea and dizziness overcame him. His vision spun, and he tumbled into the icy water below. The cold liquid smacked his face and submerged him.

Gasping and shivering, Harry fought his way to the surface, sputtering and coughing. Salazar found this entire situation hilarious and laughed so hard that his serpent companion tumbled from his shoulders.

Annoyed, Harry snapped in parseltongue, "Shut up."

Recovering, Harry climbed out of the water and stood up. Still dizzy, he doubled over and vomited onto the chamber floor, the acrid taste lingering in his mouth.

Salazar, wiping tears from his eyes with his robe's sleeve, consoled, "You'll get used to the feeling. Godric was hopeless with any form of magical transportation for years. Every time we apparated, he'd topple over. So, if we needed to make a decent first impression, Helga would Apparate him and keep him upright. He loathed it."

"I can empathize," Harry grumbled, wiping his mouth and using magic to make himself steam and drive away the cold from his soaked robes. He repeated the warming charm several times until his attire was dry.

Salazar offered encouragement, saying, "You'll be fine. Keep practicing."

Harry couldn't resist a sarcastic comment. "You just want to watch me fall over."

Salazar's expression softened, and he admitted, "It reminds me of Godric."

Taking a deep breath, Harry visualized the far end of the chamber and apparated there. He stumbled and fell to his knees, while Salazar's laughter echoed from the opposite side of the chamber.

It took numerous attempts, but eventually, Harry managed to apparate without swaying or stumbling like a drunken sailor.

Salazar praised his progress, saying, "It's an essential skill to acquire. If you ever get disarmed and need to escape, apparition could be a lifesaver. The ability to apparate swiftly saved my life on more than one occasion. Is there anything else you wish to learn?"

Harry considered his options and suggested, "How about the Disillusionment Charm? My invisibility cloak is great, but it has its limitations."

Salazar responded, "It's not an easy spell to master, especially if you aim for perfection. It requires significant talent and control, with the latter being even more crucial, to use it flawlessly and become completely invisible."

Harry let his wand slide out of his robe sleeve and into his hand, ready to practice. "I've got time to work on it."

Salazar encouraged him with a nod. "Well, you know what to visualize. You should already be fairly proficient with this spell, despite the phoenix feather core of your wand."

Harry shot Salazar a narrowed-eyed look. "Lay off my phoenix feather core wand, you senile finger-painter."

Salazar snorted and demonstrated the wand movement with a flourish. "The wand motion is like this. I assume you're already familiar with the incantation?"

Harry nodded and cast the Disillusionment Charm. His body began to mimic the background behind him, blending its colors like a watercolor painting. When he moved his arm, the color rippled, lagging slightly behind the motion.

Salazar, with a hint of approval, commented, "Not a bad first attempt. You look like a very inexperienced, oversized chameleon."

Harry shot him a flat stare in response.

Salazar continued his guidance, "It will take a great deal of practice before you can cast it well enough to move normally while under its effects. That's as far as most wizards and witches can ever hope to achieve."

Harry clarified, "So it's camouflage, not true invisibility."

Salazar offered an encouraging perspective, saying, "You're not like most wizards and witches."

Harry sensed another reference to his status as Slytherin's heir approaching. He was well-acquainted with the prideful expression that Salazar Slytherin wore. "Great. If only Tom Riddle could see this, he'd probably die of laughter... or outrage."

But Salazar's words affirmed his faith in Harry. "You're my heir, not just some ordinary wizard. You're exceptionally talented, and you'll improve with time. I have no doubt."

And there it was, another reminder of his unique and fateful position.

Putting his wand away, Harry settled on the floor in front of the portrait. "I can practice this on my own, then. Do you happen to know anything else about the Room of Requirement?"

Salazar shrugged and threw his arms up. "Not much, really. Only that I knew I would win in the end! Take that, Godric and Rowena."

Harry, intrigued, asked, "How did you win?"

Salazar, mid-celebration, froze at the revelation. "You're my heir. You found their secret room before anyone of their descent found mine."

Harry chuckled and added, "You do realize that when I pulled Godric's sword out of the Sorting Hat, I became his heir of sorts?"

Salazar's expression soured. "Well, that rather ruins the competition. If you're the heir of both of us, even if Godric's claim on you is somewhat weaker than mine, then I suppose we both win, and it's all null and void."

In a moment of reflection, Salazar inquired, "What was it like in there? Were their portraits present? Godric's? Rowena's? Perhaps even Helga's?"

Harry answered, "I'm not sure. It seems like the room adapts completely based on your desires. I'll check if I can find their portraits the next time I visit."

Salazar gazed upward through the chamber's roof. "It sounds like an amazing room. I'd love to try it myself, but I doubt it works for a shadow of life like me. Rowena and Godric always had a knack for coming up with the most imaginative and spectacular things. Of course, most of their inventions ended up exploding in Godric's face, but the ones that worked were truly remarkable. I'll even concede that they were the finest creations any of us ever made, aside from Hogwarts, of course. A school and sanctuary represent a unique kind of magic."

Harry found himself drawn to Salazar's tales and the rich history of Hogwarts' founders, fascinated by their inventiveness and eccentricity.

Harry reflected, "I've only seen the Sorting Hat and the Room."

Salazar shared more about the founders and their creations. "There were several more. You might have heard of the diadem, which was Rowena's favorite. She practically claimed it as her own, though Godric was never one to complain. He had a rather selfless nature."

Harry wondered aloud, "I wonder if any of these objects are in the Room of Requirement?"

Salazar provided some unfortunate history. "The diadem was lost, sadly. Rowena's daughter stole it and lost it before she died. Silly girl. Rowena wasn't as remarkable a mother as she was a mage."

A shadow of sadness crossed Salazar's face. Harry inquired, "And what about Helga? What did she create?"

Salazar described Helga's endeavors. "Helga dabbled in combining enchantment with herbology. Plants were her passion. She enjoyed taking care of plants, creatures, and people. She's responsible for that ridiculously named species of magical tree."

Intrigued, Harry asked, "Magical tree?"

Salazar elaborated, "She transformed an innocent and graceful willow tree into something far less charming. Her intention was to create a whole forest of them to safeguard the school. We intervened before she could cause a catastrophe. I suspect that species still exists, as she grew and sold quite a few before people realized how large they would become. I'm guessing they swiftly regretted planting them near their houses, or near anything else, for that matter. Dreadful plants."

Harry chuckled, commenting, "The founders are nothing like I imagined."

As Harry delved deeper into the history and quirks of Hogwarts' founders, he realized that their legacies were far more complex and multifaceted than the simple stories he'd heard before.

Harry listened with a wry smile as Salazar provided a more realistic picture of the founders. "Of course, we're not. We founded a school. I'm sure all the headmasters tell you how perfect and well-behaved we were. The truth is that even at the age of sixty, Godric was more of a child than anyone who ever walked these halls after him." Salazar's eyes grew misty. "Rowena might have loved logic, but she broke any rules she deemed beneath her, and Helga had a real vicious streak if you upset her."

Harry glanced at the time and murmured, "Tempus."

Salazar understood it was time to part ways. "You're leaving now?"

Harry confirmed, "Yeah, I'll be back tomorrow."

Salazar, not keen on spending more time alone with the serpent, urged, "You're not leaving before you've rehung my portrait above the door in the study. I refuse to spend any more time in the company of that snake, whether she's alive or not. You should also consider milking her corpse. The venom is valuable and useful."

Harry agreed begrudgingly, saying, "Fine."

Salazar, despite his earlier grumbling, admitted, "At least those rituals have helped me gain some strength." He let Harry pick up his portrait and carry it back across the bridge. "Carrying me is an honor. I'm one of the greatest wizards to have ever lived."

Harry couldn't resist a playful jab. "That's probably why this painting is so heavy. It's your ego." Ignoring Salazar's glare, he inquired, "Do you know what can be used to store the venom from your former snake?"

Salazar provided guidance. "Anything inert. It only dissolves organic tissue or matter. You might find some crystal vials in one of the drawers or lying around on the shelves opposite the ladder."

Harry nodded, gathering the necessary items to collect the venom. As he left the Chamber of Secrets, he couldn't help but marvel at the secrets and knowledge he was gaining from the past, hidden beneath Hogwarts for centuries.

Harry retrieved some crystal vials from the top drawer, blowing the dust off them. He then made his way back to the basilisk's carcass, knowing it would be a less formidable adversary this time. Kneeling in front of its mouth, he mused, "It could've swallowed me in one bite back then. It still could if it was alive."

Harry reached past the serpent's teeth toward its venom sacs. With his wand, he carefully cut a small hole in one of the glands, allowing the venom to trickle into the crystal vial he held beneath it. He filled all four vials with the thick, viscous, clear venom. It was a tense process, as he couldn't help but wonder if he might accidentally impale himself on one of the basilisk's fangs.

Returning to the study with the vials in hand, he asked Salazar, "Did you get any? You're still alive, so I didn't impale myself on a fang."

Harry proudly displayed the vials, and Salazar offered a piece of advice. "That's a significant amount of galleons you're waving around. Leave the venom here. It's quite rare."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Of course I'm leaving it here. I wasn't about to leave it lying around in the dormitory for some idiot to drink by mistake." He couldn't help but think about what Neville Longbottom might do. "That would not be a pleasant way to die."

Salazar confirmed Harry's fears. "Horrible way to go. Makes some of the more morally questionable curses I've seen look kind. You'd sort of melt from within, I'd imagine."

Harry left the venom in the study and headed back to Gryffindor Tower's common room, where the air was heavy with tension and the soft crackling of the fire. He noticed Ron, Seamus, and a few others who had distanced themselves from him, sitting in various chairs and sofas. Without much of a second glance, he headed for the stairs, leaving the common room behind.

Harry was halfway down the stairs when he heard Ron's voice calling his name, causing him to pause with one foot on the bottom step. The Gryffindors had spread around the common room and stood at the base of the stairs.

He turned to face them, letting his wand slide down his sleeve to rest in his hand, a defensive reflex developed through his experiences. "What?"

Ron's face twisted in discomfort, and he seemed to be struggling to find his words. "Look," he began, glancing around at the others behind him. "I'm not great at talking things out, so I'll just be blunt. I know this hasn't been easy for you, and I'm not entirely sure you put your name in the Goblet of Fire. I'm angry with you, we're all a bit upset, but we understand it's not entirely your fault. You always get dragged into this stuff and come out looking like a hero. I know you hate it, but it's difficult for us to always be in your shadow. We want a bit of recognition too, and—"

Hermione interjected, offering her own perspective. "He's trying to say he's sorry. He's done a terrible job expressing it, as he still needs some time to come to terms with things, but he genuinely means it. We all do. We just want things to be like they were last year."

A chilling voice crept into Harry's thoughts, taunting him with bitter thoughts. Back when you were better than everyone at everything. He felt a cold shard of ice form deep within him, somewhere beneath his ribs. Back when you were certain you were needed and didn't have to worry about actually being a good friend to stay one.

Taking a deep breath, Harry inquired, "So, this is an apology?"

His heart remained heavy, and he found himself torn. I don't care. The frigid ball of cold in his chest tightened. It's too late.

"I'm not sure I care anymore," Harry replied, a profound weariness in his voice.

Hermione gasped in disbelief. "How can you say that?!"

Harry's frustration boiled over as he retorted, "I opened my mouth, I remembered how I felt about having my entire house turn their backs on me, and I spoke. The only conversations I've had with any of you have been to listen to your explanations of why you're avoiding me."

Ron tried to make amends, saying, "We made a mistake. You must realize what it looks like and how much pressure Angelina is putting on everyone with her grudge against you. Forget about all this. Water under the bridge. You forgive us. We forgive you. Friends again, right, mate?"

But Harry couldn't let go of the pain. The bitter voice of Riddle echoed in his mind. They left me all alone. To be nothing. Like all those empty years in Privet Drive. He struggled to push these thoughts away, but the ice in his veins remained unabated.

Harry's response was firm. "Wrong, Ron. I don't trust you lot anymore. You didn't have my back when I needed you, and I can't rely on you to have my back next time, so I'll make sure I won't need you."

Hermione flinched at the harsh truth, and Ron's anger flared. "Fine!" Ron shouted. "You selfish, pretentious git. Go and bask in your glory! I hope it was worth the deaths of your parents and the loss of your only friends!"

Harry's rage surged, and he thrust his wand into Ron's face. In Parseltongue, he whispered a threat. Ron, unable to understand the language, turned red and threw a punch at Harry's head. Harry stumbled back onto the stairs, and his wand clattered to the floor.

Without thinking, Ron lunged at him, fists flying like an angry chimpanzee. Harry fought back, shoving Ron away and landing a punch on Ron's stomach. Someone tried to intervene, grabbing the back of Harry's robes and his left arm, but he wrenched himself free, desperate to reach his fallen wand.

A blinding burst of white light seared Harry's eyes, and his wand was wrenched from his hand, flying across the room and crashing into the mantelpiece, sending splinters raining down onto the floor.

Hermione, her fingers pressed against her mouth, looked at the shattered remnants of Harry's wand and gasped, "Oh no, I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to. I've been practicing the banishing spell, and it was just the first one I thought of. I— I just wanted to stop the fight."

Harry's thoughts raced, fueled by his growing anger. You were practicing it because you needed to be better than me. His inner voice hissed in a quick, smooth, high whisper, almost like a mocking chant. Ice crept through his veins.

Without a word, Harry strode across the room and gathered all the fragments of his wand into his hand.

Hermione whispered, her voice laced with regret, "I didn't mean to do it, Harry."

His heart was heavy as he replied, "I don't care." He clenched the handful of wand shards against his chest, feeling the icy grip around his heart. "We're done."

Struggling to find the right words, he continued, "I don't need you anymore, Hermione. And I certainly don't want you."

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