Together

Sal stepped into the Room of Requirement, the familiar hum of ancient magic surrounding him. He pulled out his communication rune and activated it.

"Sarah, can we talk?"

A soft glow pulsed through the room as Sarah's voice resonated, warm yet tinged with curiosity.

"Of course, Sal. How can I help?"

He took a breath, glancing over at the enchanted map she had created for him. "Now that the Chamber of Secrets is open, can you connect with it?"

A pause. Then, Sarah's voice carried a hint of amusement.

"Easily. With the wards that once kept it sealed now inactive, it's fully integrated into me—just like the rest of Hogwarts."

Sal nodded to himself, relief settling in.

"Good. I want to search it over the summer, but I need it restricted to me. No one else should be able to access it—not even by accident."

There was a moment of silence before Sarah responded, her tone firm and reassuring.

"Consider it done. The Chamber will recognize only your magic, Sal."

Sal exhaled slowly, tension easing from his shoulders. This was another step toward understanding Salazar's legacy—and his own.

"Thanks, Sarah. This is just the beginning."

"I look forward to seeing what you discover."

As the connection faded, Sal glanced toward the entrance to the hidden depths of Hogwarts, a thrill of anticipation sparking in his chest.

This summer was going to change everything.

With classes over for the year, Sal spent his remaining time at Hogwarts exploring the Chamber of Secrets. What had once been an enigma, spoken of only in whispers, now belonged to him.

The outer chamber, where he had fought Tom Riddle and found Ginny, had been only the entrance. As he delved deeper, Sal discovered the true heart of the Chamber of Secrets.

A vast underground library stretched before him, dust thick on the centuries-old tomes, their bindings barely holding together under the weight of time. Alongside it, a study, simple but efficient, occupied the far side of the chamber. A large desk sat at its center, papers and books scattered across its surface, as if Salazar Slytherin himself had just left the room.

Sal's gaze fell upon a single open journal, its pages untouched by dust, as though it had been waiting for him.

His pulse quickened as he stepped forward, fingers brushing over the elegant but firm script of his ancestor.

To My Heir,

If you are reading this, then you have either claimed the guardian of the school or it has fallen in battle. It does not matter now—the basilisk was only a precaution, a measure I took when I resolved to confront Merlin.

My true legacy to you is a secret that has long been buried. The first Slytherin—the one from whom our family descends—made a pact with the Lady of Death herself. Like all powerful bloodlines, our magic has an origin, and ours was forged in a deal that granted us the privilege, and the burden, of becoming her champion.

To aid him, the First Slytherin was gifted three artifacts, later whispered of as myths—the Deathly Hallows.

After his passing, the artifacts vanished from history, never to be found. But know this, my heir: they are bound to our blood. Anyone outside our line who dares to wield them will suffer the weight of death itself. For magic is balance, and to use what is not yours comes with a cost.

Sal swallowed hard, his mind racing. The Deathly Hallows? They had always been spoken of as legend, yet here was proof that they were more than mere myth.

His hands tightened on the parchment as a cold realization settled in his bones.

They're bound to my blood.

For centuries, wizards had searched for the Hallows, believing them to be lost relics of immeasurable power. Some sought them for knowledge, others for conquest. But what if the Hallows had never truly been lost?

What if they had simply been waiting for their true master?

His heart pounded, the weight of history pressing down on him. He wasn't just the heir to Hogwarts. He wasn't just the prodigy duelist or the youngest prefect in history. He was something far more ancient, tied to a power beyond mortal understanding.

He turned back to the journal, his vision blurring slightly.

The Final Words of Salazar Slytherin

Know this, my heir:

We are the Guardians of Hogwarts. It was never meant to be merely a school—it was built as a haven, a sanctuary for those hunted and persecuted. This journal contains the true history of Hogwarts, its hidden defenses, and the knowledge of Sarah, the spirit who watches over it. Protect it, as I have.

But understand this as well—to be the Champion of Death grants power beyond imagination. Yet, it is not without cost. The price is one only she will decide, and when that time comes, you must be prepared to pay it.

I now go to meet Merlin in battle. If I do not return, then let this be my final gift to you.

-Salazar Slytherin

A Champion of Death?

Sal let out a shaky breath and backed away from the desk, his head spinning.

This changed everything.

Sarah had once told him that Hogwarts would always protect its heir. But who would protect him from what was coming?

The Deathly Hallows, the title of Champion of Death, a pact made with a deity itself—this was far beyond what he had expected to find.

Sal had always prided himself on preparation. He had spent years sharpening his skills, mastering magic in ways that few wizards his age ever had. He had dueled against captains of the Magic Knights, studied ancient magic, and pushed himself to the limits of his abilities.

But nothing could have prepared him for this.

He turned to Sarah, her presence a calming weight in the air around him.

"Did you know?" His voice was quieter than he expected.

"Not all of it," she admitted. "I knew the Chamber held more than just the basilisk. But this… this is beyond what I imagined."

Sal ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. Champion of Death. The words felt heavy on his tongue.

"I don't want this," he muttered, barely above a whisper. "I didn't ask for any of it."

"Power rarely comes to those who seek it," Sarah said gently. "But you, Sal… you've always been different. You fight for something greater than yourself. Perhaps that is why you were chosen."

Sal clenched his fists, frustration and fear warring within him.

"So what do I do now?"

"You do what you've always done," Sarah replied. "You keep moving forward.

Sal was in the middle of packing his trunk when a knock at the door interrupted him. Looking up, he saw a younger student standing there, slightly out of breath.

"The Headmaster wants to see you, Sal."

Sal nodded, quickly closing his trunk before making his way to Dumbledore's office. He had a feeling this wasn't just a casual conversation.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Sal asked as he stepped inside.

Dumbledore looked up from a parchment he had been studying, a warm smile forming behind his half-moon glasses. "Ah, yes, Sal. Please, come in. Have a seat."

Sal took a seat, curiosity growing as the Headmaster folded his hands in front of him.

"Sal, you have been a tremendous help to the faculty this year," Dumbledore began. "Even Professor Snape—though he may not admit it—has benefited from your assistance."

Sal chuckled. "That's high praise, coming from him."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Indeed. But I did not ask you here simply to commend your efforts. With the additional funding Hogwarts is receiving, we will be updating equipment, expanding our curriculum, and hiring more staff."

"That's great news," Sal said, genuinely pleased. "But… what does this have to do with me?"

The Headmaster leaned forward slightly. "I have spoken to Hamish McFarlan, the former Gryffindor Quidditch captain and now a prominent figure in the British and Irish Quidditch League. We have discussed integrating dueling into the school's competitive scene alongside Quidditch. He was more than eager to support the idea."

Sal's eyes widened. "You mean… dueling as an official competition?"

"Precisely," Dumbledore confirmed. "And just as Madam Hooch oversees Quidditch, I would like you to take charge of dueling at Hogwarts."

Sal blinked, taking a moment to absorb the weight of the offer. "You—you want me to run it?"

"Who better?" Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. "Your experience in the dueling circuit makes you uniquely suited for the role. Apart from that, I would like you to assist with Defense Against the Dark Arts and—should you choose—offer tutoring sessions for students who may be struggling in various subjects."

Sal sat back, exhaling. "Wow… that's—" He ran a hand through his hair, processing the sheer scope of responsibility. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.

"I'd love to," he said, conviction in his voice. "Thank you, Professor. I won't let you down."

Dumbledore's smile widened. "Of that, I have no doubt, Sal."

As soon as Sal returned to his dorm, he pulled out his communication rune and activated it, reaching out to Tonks and Tulip.

"So let me get this straight," Tulip said, her voice coming through the rune. "You've officially been put in charge of dueling at Hogwarts?"

"Pretty much," Sal confirmed.

"Nice! So, does that make you Professor Cross now?" Tulip teased.

Sal rolled his eyes. "It's just an extracurricular activity, not an official teaching position."

"I don't know, sounds pretty official to me," Tonks chimed in. "And besides, I'm just glad you'll be there to help Remus. I think having you around will really help him see himself the way we do."

Sal smiled at that. "That's not possible. You two are too important to me."

Had Sal been paying attention, he might have noticed Tonks' hair subtly shift in color and the light blush spreading across Tulip's face.

Changing the subject, he continued, "Anyway, have you both decided about moving into the tower like we discussed?"

"Yeah," Tonks said. "I managed to find a cheap flat for appearances, but the tower is definitely home now."

Sal nodded. "Good. And Tulip, I know you wanted to live above the shop, but that doesn't mean you can't use your key to the tower whenever you want."

"I was actually planning on moving in," Tulip admitted.

Sal grinned. "That's good to hear. We leave early tomorrow, so I should get some rest. See you both soon."

It wasn't until after he ended the call that Tonks and Tulip exchanged glances, the realization settling in.

They were going to be living with him.

As the enchanted portal hummed with magic, Sal stepped into the Mage's Tower—only to be greeted by the sound of voices echoing through the halls.

"Oi, Sal! About time you got here!" Tonks' voice rang out as she leaned over the balcony above the main hall, grinning mischievously.

Tulip appeared beside her, arms crossed, but smiling. "You took your sweet time. We were beginning to think you got lost."

Sal sighed, dropping his trunk by the staircase. "I was literally just at the Hogwarts Express five minutes ago."

"Exactly, five whole minutes," Tonks teased, flipping over the railing with effortless grace and landing beside him. Tulip simply took the stairs down like a normal person.

Despite their different careers, all three of them had agreed to live together in the tower, using it as their personal headquarters.

•Sal had his own quarters, complete with a research lab, training area, and study linked to both the library and the Chamber of Secrets.

•Tonks had claimed a wing of the tower for her Auror training, where she set up a stealth and dueling course to hone her skills.

•Tulip had converted a section of the tower into a potion and enchantment lab, perfect for her experimental magic and research.

The tower itself adjusted to their needs, expanding and reshaping rooms at will.

The next morning, Sal woke up to the smell of burnt toast and the sound of a minor explosion.

He groaned, sitting up. "I swear, if that's another one of Tonks' attempts at cooking—"

BOOM.

"It wasn't me this time!" Tonks' voice called out from the hallway.

Sal sighed, throwing on his robe and heading toward Tulip's potion lab, where a small trail of smoke was seeping under the door.

When he pushed it open, he found Tulip coughing, her hair singed, standing over a cauldron of bubbling purple liquid.

Tonks, who had just arrived, leaned against the doorframe and smirked. "What's the damage?"

Tulip waved a hand, coughing. "Nothing permanent. I was testing a new enchantment formula, and it—well—detonated."

Sal rubbed his temples. "You're going to burn the tower down at this rate."

Sarah's voice echoed through the chamber. "Correction. The tower is fireproof. But I will be sealing this room if she continues making unstable potions."

Tulip huffed. "Rude."

Sal rolled his eyes. "Just be careful. This place is supposed to be our safe haven, not a test site for magical explosives."

Tulip grinned. "Then what's the point of having it?"

Tonks burst out laughing and clapped Sal on the back. "Welcome to living with us, Professor."

Sal shook his head, but he couldn't help but smile. Life in the tower was going to be chaotic, unpredictable—but also exactly what he needed.

The Mage's Tower had settled into a peaceful silence for the evening, the soft glow of enchanted lanterns casting long shadows across the sitting room. Tulip sat cross-legged on one of the couches, a steaming cup of tea in her hands, while Tonks sprawled out beside her, absentmindedly changing her hair colors as she stared at the ceiling.

Sal had long since gone to bed after a long day of training and planning for the upcoming dueling season at Hogwarts, leaving the two witches alone with their thoughts. The weight of their shared secret—one they hadn't spoken aloud yet—was suffocating in the quiet.

Tulip broke the silence first. "Tonks… can I ask you something?"

Tonks turned her head to look at her, her hair flickering from violet to blue before settling into a soft pink. "Of course. What's up?"

Tulip hesitated, swirling her tea in her cup before exhaling sharply. "It's about Sal."

Tonks' expression shifted, the casual air about her suddenly gone. She pushed herself up onto her elbows. "Go on."

Tulip licked her lips, as if weighing her next words carefully. "I think I'm in love with him."

Tonks' breath hitched, but she didn't look surprised. Instead, she let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "Well, that makes two of us."

Tulip's eyes widened. "You too?"

Tonks let out a deep sigh and leaned back, crossing her arms behind her head. "Yeah. I've known for a while now. I just didn't say anything because, well… I figured it was obvious. And I didn't know if I had the right to feel this way, not when you—" She paused, chewing her lip. "Not when you might feel the same."

Tulip blinked rapidly, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "So we've both been sitting on this, thinking we had to keep it to ourselves?"

Tonks nodded, a small grin tugging at her lips. "Pretty much."

There was another pause before Tulip spoke again, this time more hesitant. "What do we do about it?"

Tonks exhaled through her nose. "That's the million-Galleon question, isn't it? We could try pretending it's not there, but let's be honest, that's not going to work. Not with us living with him."

Tulip sighed. "He's always been there for us. I don't think he even realizes how much he means to me—to both of us."

Tonks nodded in agreement. "He's a bloody prodigy, but when it comes to emotions, he's thick as a brick."

Tulip chuckled, shaking her head. "Yeah, he really is."

For a long moment, they sat there, both of them lost in thought. Then, Tulip spoke softly. "I don't want to lose either of you. If it were anyone else, I'd probably be jealous, but it's you. And it's Sal. And… I don't think I could ever bring myself to hate you for loving him."

Tonks smiled, reaching out and squeezing Tulip's hand. "Same here, Tulip. We've been through too much together for something like this to break us apart."

A comfortable silence fell between them, the tension of unspoken words finally lifting. Eventually, Tulip smirked. "So, how do we tell Sal?"

Tonks groaned, running a hand down her face. "Merlin's beard, I don't know. Maybe we hit him over the head with it?"

Tulip laughed, nudging her playfully. "You're the one who can change her hair at will. Maybe turn it into a message. 'Sal, we love you, don't be an idiot.'"

Tonks snorted. "Might be the only way to get it through his thick skull."

Tulip sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Whatever happens, we figure it out together?"

Tonks squeezed her hand again. "Together."

And for the first time in a long time, they both felt a little lighter.