Winter 1992

Ronald Weasley

The room seemed colder than usual, thick snows raging outside the castle and pelting the Scottish countryside in thick layers of snow. The enchanted hearth spewed heat into the cavernous room that lingered in the air but quickly dissipated. Ron stifled a yawn, and his shoulders sagged from the effort of standing straight. He stood in the middle of the room of requirement, a wooden table separating him and Salazar, with the three books he had stolen the night before laid out plainly. The scent of parchment and dust clung stubbornly to the air.

Salazar's sharp eyes moved from one book to the next, his expression almost unreadable except for the subtle way his lip quivered and curled as he read each title. It reminded Ron almost of Professor Snape, the way both men tried their best to mask emotion. Ron wondered if that was something that was common to Slytherins, after all, it wasn't just them. He got the same impression from Daphne and her mother, that they were hiding how they truly felt at almost every moment. He hadn't felt that way with anyone from any other house.

Ron once again struggled against a yawn. He hadn't gotten more than a couple of interrupted hours of sleep after last night, he had too much to think about. And in those hours he did sleep, his dreams were wicked and plagued with nightmares. He had seen the night the Potters died again and imagined the glow of Voldemort's eyes. He would hear James Potter's last moments before he woke up, soaking in his own sweat despite the chill in the air. It was almost better not to sleep, where he mulled over everything that he had heard from Snape and Quirrell. Everything he had already told to Sal before he presented the books.

Salazar thought Ron was right, it sounded as if Snape was protecting the object that Hogwarts contained. But he had also issued a stern warning that Ron shouldn't tell Harry, because if they were wrong, it was better if there was someone keeping an eye on the potions' professor. The thought sat a little uncomfortably in Ron's chest. The number of secrets he held was steadily piling up on him, and he wasn't sure if Harry deserved to know. After all, at best he was knowingly wasting his friend's time and at worst, he frowned, he could be letting him get into a dangerous situation almost completely alone.

Salazar looked up at Ron for a moment. "Something is amiss…" he said abruptly.

The words snapped Ron out of his gaze, his head jerking up a little straighter as he stared back at the founder and blinked heavily. Ron's heart sank into his chest, he was sure he found useful books and he desperately didn't want to have to do last night over again.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice carrying his thoughts.

Salazar's eyes narrowed and reached out and waved his hand over one of the books. It was the one that Ron had chosen second, the one that seemed to suck the warmth from his skin. "This one," Salazar said deliberately, "does not belong here. I do wonder how you found it."

Ron's stomach churned. "I know it's not what you asked for, but I thought it could be useful. It was in the restricted section."

"Yes, I do understand that much, boy." Salazar nodded. "It's not a question of location, what I mean to say is that this bookshouldnot have been found. So I wonder how you managed to break the enchantment, I think even I would struggle."

"The enchantment?" Ron asked, his eyes darted between the book and Salazar.

"Yes," Salazar nodded. "There is a compulsive enchantment woven into the pages and the spine, a strong one that's been bound with blood. The blood of the author I would imagine but it might be someone else's. It's not the type of enchantment that usually one can accidentally uncover, as this book desires to be hidden. Your mind would pass right over it and unless you were a fairly skilled legilimens you probably would not notice its existence."

Is that why Tracey didn't mention it?

"Even this room is having trouble with it," Salazar added. "Allow me to demonstrate." With a wave of his hand the two other books disappeared briefly before appearing in the same places once again. "The room doesn't know what to do with the enchantment, not without accidentally taking a part of it into itself. So it refuses to alter the book in the way that anything else in this room might be altered."

Ron frowned at Salazar. "What does that mean?"

"It means, you've found something quite special, something that was meant to be hidden. The only question that remains, is why?" Salazar reached up to his face and began to pace. "The other books will do us well, there are many spells in them to which I do not have familiarity. When you are less tired, when you can stand on your own feet without nearly toppling over, we shall look into them. But for now, we have another mystery to solve, one which I am afraid I already know the answer to."

"You know why I found the book?" Ron asked. His hands trembled slightly as he imagined yet another wizard from hundreds of years ago appearing and telling him about some horrible mission he was suddenly chosen for.

"Yes." Salazar stopped and looked at Ron, tilting his head slightly. "Has anyone besides myself ever attempted to read your mind?"

"Uh… the sorting hat."

"Anyone else?"

Ron shook his head.

Salazar let out a deep breath. "Then I can't be certain, but I think we've done something… unexpected to you, Ronald. Something that once again I am forced to apologize for."

Ron stared at Salazar blankly, his mind racing in the quietness of the room. His thoughts tangled together and his heart pounded against his chest. He could almost feel the thought on the tip of his tongue, the answer that the founder was looking for. Yet, despite Ron's best efforts he couldn't reach the conclusion...

"Something unexpected?" Ron repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. His stomach twisted in knots.

Salazar was silent for a moment, his face thoughtful. "Yes," Salazar finally spoke, his voice calm, "You were… altered. Inadvertently, of course. In more ways than one. The ritual we performed was the first of its kind, never to be repeated, never to be written down, never to be studied. It was meant to ensure that what we did remained a secret no matter how many years passed and no matter how many of us left this world with nothing to show for it."

Ron swallowed, he couldn't understand what Salazar meant. His mind raced to the book, to the mention of the enchantment, to the pages being bound in the founders use blood magic in the ritual?

Salazar continued, "The magic infused within you, in a way that Rowana foresaw but we dismissed. It perforated your mind, Ronald. In the way that I can read your mind, that you were compelled to seek out this room, we created a doorway and in doing so we inadvertently built walls. It didn't just cloak your thoughts, it made them… shielded. You've unwittingly developed a sort of proto-occlumency."

Ron frowned, trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

"A form of mental defence, though it's raw and unfinished. But raw strength is sometimes overpowering like the gusts of a strong storm. It may have consequences that we couldn't even begin to imagine. But of those that I can, I would imagine you will never be a legilimens. The magic in your mind doesn't belong to you, it would block your thoughts just as well as anyone else's."

A cold shiver ran down Ron's spine as he remembered his conversation with Astoria over the break. "The hat…" he said quietly. "It's hidden by a fidelius charm."

Salazar tilted his head slightly before a small wry smile appeared on the founder's lips. "Yes, it is hidden. I was there when the spell was cast. And I imagine you don't bring this up for no reason, you bring it up because you broke the charm?"

Ron nodded.

"Then we should see your circumstances not as a loss of what could have done, we shouldn't mourn the legilimens you might have never been. Rather, we should commend that you have been given something powerful even if unintentionally. Ancient magic is unpredictable and it's better to have it on your side than to have it work against you."

"You mean it's a good thing?" Ron asked. The knots in his stomach slowly faded as he came to terms with what Sal was saying. Nobody else could read his mind. Nobody. 's not something I'll have to worry about…

"Yes, it could be. If you can break the fidelius charm then you are quite valuable to many wizards. It could be valuable in our work to defend Hogwarts. You would need to learn the secret first, but once you do you would essentially be another secret keeper and you could share the knowledge with whomever you desired. That… is a very powerful position to be in." Salazar let out a shallow breath. "You must be careful, don't tell anyone about this. They would rather experiment on you to extract the secrets of our ritual than they would utilize you in the way you could be used."

Ron nodded, it was just another secret to add to his ever-growing pile. A secret which he wasn't sure about, a part of him liked the idea of never having to worry about occlumency and another part of him wanted to curse Salazar and the founders for continuing to mess up his life. After all, what if he ever needed to be a legilimens? What if he needed it to save Charlie's life? He swallowed.

The more Salazar's words sunk into him the more questions popped into his mind and the more their tendrils threatened to wrap around his throat and choke him. He hardly noticed when something else shifted, when a small draft touched his skin and the air warmed for just a second. Before Ron could process anything else, a sudden jarring sound pierced through his mind and his heart stopped beating. The door to the room of requirement opened.

Ron stood still, frozen in space as Salazar's eyes drifted upwards to look over him. He felt as if icy fingers were holding him in place, anchoring him to the floor, daring him to turn and look into the face of death. Ron flung his wand out of its holster and gripped it tightly, the warmth spreading up his arm and thawing his heart which nearly exploded in a rapid pounding sensation. His veins filled with fire and adrenaline, his knuckles turned white, and his mind raced through all of the spells he knew and which ones would kill the interloper fastest. His breath came in short, sharp bursts.I'm going to die. This is it.

Ron's heart thudded in his chest, the sound deafening in his ears. He twisted his body around, muscles tensed, every instinct telling him to defend himself. His eyes landed on the figure in the doorway, and the breath he had been holding caught in his throat. He wasn't facing death, it was something far worse.

Daphne.