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batsutousaiTitle: Gelosaþ in Écnesse
Chapter: 14 of 18
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Harry/Salazar, Harry/OFC (Original Female Character)
Warnings: OCs, OoC, minor cliché-age, character death, homophobia, racist actions and slurs (from secondary character), time travel
Summary: Caught in the backlash of Voldemort's Killing Curse, Harry is thrown through time to a world so very different from his own.
A/N: Since I keep getting questions about this: There will be no mpreg. I find it abhorrent, so I will never write it.
As for the possibility of adopting? The story only covers to the defeat of Voldemort. You can certainly envision such occurring, but it won't happen in this story.
Night Falls In
-0-0-
Getting the licences didn't take long, and if people looked at the two men a bit oddly once they heard their last name, neither Harry nor Salazar gave it a second thought, enough used to receiving odd looks for their dress or accent while they'd been travelling. Once at Grimmauld Place, they were bullied into lunch by Mrs Weasley. Ron still seemed a little uncertain about Harry, but the others were easy-going enough.
After lunch, Harry settled in around the kitchen table with Sirius, Remus, and the students, while Mrs Weasley completed some kitchen chores and Salazar vanished to snoop through the library. Harry had all sorts of stories about the Founders and the first students to keep his audience entertained. By the time those with jobs started arriving, Ron was quite friendly again, laughing at something one of the Gryffindors had done during a weekend.
When Salazar came down for dinner, called by Mrs Weasley, Ron's smile froze, suddenly reminded that Harry was married to Salazar Slytherin. Harry sighed and smiled up at his husband as he settled into the open spot next to him. "Find anything interesting?"
"Interesting, yes," Salazar agreed, "useful, I can't say."
"I'm sure it'll be useful eventually," Harry replied neutrally.
"Most spells often are," Salazar agreed before switching to Pictish and saying, "Your ginger friend really doesn't care for me."
Harry shrugged. "He'll get over it."
"Whether he does it by choice or because you've forced him–"
"I'm not going to force him to like you, Sal," Harry interrupted, frowning.
"Force him by way of being difficult unless he accepts me," Salazar corrected smoothly. "Don't frown at me, Harry; I know how difficult you can be when people react poorly to me."
Harry sighed and muttered, "Whatever," in English, signalling his defeat. Given, Salazar, too, could be a force to be reckoned with when someone snubbed Harry, but Harry was always the more vocal about his displeasure.
"How many languages can you speak?" Hermione asked as the food went around and everyone served themselves.
Harry considered that for a moment, then shrugged. "Fifteen, give or take a few. Most of them are older forms of a modern language, though."
"Could you teach me one?" Hermione asked hopefully, before her expression drooped. "Just for the summer, I guess. It would be hard to continue during term..."
Harry raised an amused eyebrow at her. "There's a spell that transfers one's knowledge of a language to another person. I can teach you any language I know in about a minute, though it might take you a few days to fully assimilate it."
Hermione's eyes brightened. "Yes, please," she breathed.
"Just as long as you don't teach her every language," Salazar muttered in Englisc.
Harry rolled his eyes at his husband. "I'll teach you the ones you might get some use out of," he offered. "I can only teach you one every twenty-four hours, and I'd rather give you a few days to sort everything out with the one language before teaching you another, okay?"
Hermione nodded excitedly. "Okay! Thanks, Harry."
"Of course."
Dinner was cheerful enough, in spite of Ron's occasional distrustful looks towards Salazar, which the Founder ignored in favour of speaking with Lupin, who sat next to him. Harry took the chance to speak with Bill, who was in England for a while and had agreed to drop by Grimmauld for dinner, though he wasn't staying with them, much to his mother's sorrow.
As dinner came to a close, Mrs Weasley asked, "Harry, Salazar, are you planning to spend the night?"
Salazar shrugged. "Harry would like to, yes."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, we're both planning to stay the night. We can clean out one of the rooms ourselves, if we need to," he added with an easy smile.
"I'll show you a couple of empty rooms," Sirius offered, standing.
"Sounds good," Harry agreed, getting up himself. "Sal?"
"I'm coming," the Founder muttered and joined the other two men.
They found an empty room up on the second floor and, after a slew of cleaning charms and a couple vanishing spells, the room was more than acceptable as a temporary residence for Harry and Salazar. They then retired again to the kitchen to laugh with the others in the house until Mrs Weasley finally ordered all the students to bed. She seemed nearly ready to order Harry to bed as well, but Mr Weasley touched her arm and shook his head.
"It's been a long couple days," Harry commented, managing a yawn that wasn't as false as he'd intended it to be.
Salazar inclined his head and rose to his feet next to his husband. "It has," he agreed neutrally. "Perhaps we, too, shall turn in."
"Good night, Harry, Sal," Sirius offered, and the three eldest Weasleys and Lupin added their voices as the two left the room.
In the room they'd chosen, Harry and Salazar changed into the sleep bottoms they'd had Slinky send along, then slipped into the bed to sleep.
While Salazar slipped into sleep's embrace easily, Harry found it to be much more difficult; his back would twinge randomly, bringing him awake just as he was dosing off. Finally, after nearly two hours of this, Harry rose and slipped from the room and down the hall to the library; if nothing else, perhaps he could read himself to sleep.
There was a spell on the door to keep the students out, but Harry waved it away without a second thought. He waved his wand to light the candles left around the room and glanced over the shelves for something to read. Most of the books were of the darker magics – something neither Harry nor Salazar had much interest in, beyond knowing how to protect against it or healing its effects – but he did find a section of books on magical defence. He glanced through a couple of them, trying to find one that actually caught his attention, figuring he might as well learn something if he was going to be up.
He'd just found two interesting books on magical shields when he heard the door behind him creak open. He glanced over his shoulder to find a sleepy Ron standing there. He knew his friend had the room next to his and Salazar's, but he hadn't expected him to be up or to follow him into the library, door cracked open and spell inactive or not. "Ron," he offered neutrally.
Ron blinked sleepily at the man he still considered to be his best friend, no matter how uncertain he was of the man Harry had become. "Heard s'meone in the hall," he mumbled. "Thought it mighta been Fred or George."
"I'm sorry to have woken you," Harry said, slipping one of the books back on the shelf. "Just looking for something to read to help me sleep."
Ron was about to comment on that – it seemed strange for it to be Harry looking for something to read, rather than Hermione – when his sleepy mind finally registered the violent lines on his best friend's bare back. "Harry," he whispered, and Harry looked back at him, confused by the sick horror in his voice, "what happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked warily as he turned to face the boy. He wasn't sure either of them were awake enough to discuss the trials that had changed Harry from the boy he'd been into the man he'd become.
"Your back," Ron replied, shaking his head to rid himself of the image of Harry's scarred back, which had burned itself into his corneas.
"Ah." Harry sighed and stepped over to one of the chairs in the room, reminded that he hadn't bothered to put on a shirt when he'd left his room; two years with only Salazar and Slinky around had broken him of the habit. "Have a seat, Ron," he suggested, motioning one of the other chairs over to face him. As Ron dropped into the seat, pale with the unknown horror that had befallen his friend, Harry murmured, "Slinky."
The house-elf appeared at his side, blinking sleepily. "Master Harry calls?" she murmured.
"I'm sorry to have woken you, Slinky," Harry offered, but Slinky waved the apology away and made an effort to appear more awake. Harry smiled – it wasn't the first time he'd woken her for something – and requested, "Some tea and biscuits? Hold the caffeine."
Slinky inclined her head in understanding. "Slinky can brings Master Harry a sleeping potion," she offered.
Harry considered that for a moment, then nodded. "In the vial, please," he replied, knowing she might well slip it into his tea if he didn't specify. As she popped away, Harry glanced back at Ron, who had watched them curiously, though he'd remained pale. "A free house-elf who promised herself to Sal and me back when we left Hogwarts. She followed us to this time to continue looking after us."
"You never bound her to you?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged. "Hermione would never have forgiven me," he replied and they shared a knowing smile.
Slinky reappeared with the requested items and set the tea tray on a table that had appeared between the two humans. Ron made up his own tea the way he liked it while Harry thanked Slinky and glanced over the potions vial with a practised eye. Satisfied, he set it to one side and sipped at his pre-made tea.
"Harry," Ron said after a quiet moment, watching his friend, "what happened?"
"Voldemort happened," Harry replied evenly, ignoring Ron's flinch. "I wasn't entirely honest yesterday about what led up to my ending up in the Founders' era; it's true that Voldemort and I duelled, but our wands connected due to having a core of the same phoenix. The reaction backfired on me and my wand was flung one way while I was flung another, into a golden net that had grown up around us. It burned my back before it could send me to the past." He eyed Ron's pale visage for a long moment in silence before adding, "If Sal hadn't found me or had been any less a healer than he is, I would have died from those burns."
Ron stared down into his tea for a long, silent moment, then said, "He saved your life."
"He did," Harry agreed, keeping his voice neutral.
"So you owe him a life debt?" Ron asked, looking up at Harry with a frown.
Harry was still for a moment, debating how to handle that, then agreed, "After a fashion. But we've never really considered it as my owing him, and we spent two years watching each other's backs while we travelled, so I couldn't say which of us truly owes the other, at this point." He considered Ron's frown for a long moment as the younger wizard struggled with something, then said, "Just say it, Ron."
"I just... He's Salazar Slytherin, Harry," Ron managed.
"Better Sal than Draco Malfoy," Harry replied drily and Ron let out a choked sound. Harry smiled at him and shook his head. "Ron, I don't look at Sal and see the evils of his students through time, any more than I look at you and hear the words of hatred that Godric spat at Sal and me before we left. When I arrived in the past, half dead and unable to understand a word he said, Sal took me in and took care of me, in spite of the duties he had to drop to do so. He was there to comfort me when a friend died, and he spent two years trying to find me a way home. And that's the man I see when I look at him."
Ron took a shaky breath, trying to fit these words around the image of the man his best friend had married. It was hard to fight back years of hatred, but for all that he was wary around the Founder, it had been hard to ignore the way he'd endeavoured to protect Harry during their first meeting, or how peaceful he'd been over the past two days; quiet as he was, he'd never shown any sign of dislike for anyone in the house, though Ron had given him more than enough reason to hate him for his rudeness.
'Maybe he's not the man of the stories,' Ron admitted to himself. 'But, does that mean Gryffindor...' He swallowed with some difficulty, then asked, "Harry, what did Gryffindor say to you?"
Harry had taken care to avoid that topic, not wanting to bring it up when everyone seemed okay with him having married a man, but he couldn't refuse to answer the question, not when asked flat out. "Godric," he said in an empty voice, "wanted to stone us for being gay, and we left to keep from tearing Hogwarts apart." He turned his attention to picking through the biscuits as he added, "I'd rather not repeat what, exactly, he said. If it's all the same?"
"Yeah," Ron whispered, heart aching for his best friend. As a general rule, pureblood families were accepting of homosexuals, so long as those people had at least one child with another magical person, to keep their numbers up and the bloodlines pure; any disgust of homosexuality in the magical world came from those who'd been muggle-raised. But Ron knew it hadn't always been that way; his father's grandfather had been gay and he'd faced plenty of prejudice for it when he'd been younger; he'd renounced his male lover, married a woman, and had children to keep from being killed by his peers.
Ron had always had trouble understanding the hatred aimed at homosexuals, having been raised in a family that was accepting of all lifestyles, but he knew it existed, and knew some of what it was like to be on the receiving end of prejudice, since his family had been labelled as blood traitors. He hated that Harry had faced that, and from someone Ron admired, no less! And, to Ron's surprise, he found himself sympathising with Salazar, who had almost certainly suffered at Harry's side.
"I'm sorry," Ron found himself saying. He looked up and met startled green eyes.
"For what?" Harry asked.
"For being a git."
Harry smiled tiredly. "Ron, you're often a git."
Ron grimaced, remembering how stupid he'd been this past year over Harry being in the Tournament. "I know," he allowed. "But I made myself a promise, after that dragon, that I would trust your word from now on, no matter any evidence to the contrary, because that's what best friends do. And, well, I didn't. I decided Slyth– Salazar was evil incarnate, just like Malfoy or You-Know-Who, even though you clearly thought otherwise. And then, well..."
"You were worried about me," Harry commented quietly. "I know that, and I know how you get when you're trying to hide that. Ron, I wasn't surprised by your reaction to my return, any more than I've been surprised at your reaction to Sal. To be honest, I'd have been worried if you'd just accepted everything without question." He snorted. "I've been surprised at how well everyone else has taken things, in fact."
Ron smiled at that. "I think they're all just too relieved that you're not dead."
Harry shrugged and nodded. "True. And I gave them all a night to work through any misgivings about Sal or my sexual preference."
"It's..." Ron sighed and shook his head. "The gay thing isn't so big a deal, though."
Harry blinked. "No?"
"No. You might find a couple people who want to know when you two are going to employ a surrogate and have kids, and some muggle-raised witches and wizards might be a little strange about it, but it shouldn't be a problem, otherwise."
"Huh. What do you know." Harry smiled. "I'll have to tell Sal that so he'll stop waiting for the stoning to start." He sighed and shook his head.
"Cursing," Ron corrected. At Harry's raised eyebrow, he explained, "Stoning people is too muggle."
Harry laughed. "The purebloods would think that, wouldn't they?"
They shared a grin and, for a moment, it was just like old times. But then Ron noticed again the lack of glasses and the age of sorrow and darkness in Harry's eyes, and the moment was gone.
Harry caught the change in the air. "Perhaps it's time we both returned to bed," he suggested gently, un-stoppering his potion.
"Oh, yeah," Ron agreed and set his empty cup back on the tea tray. He stood as Harry drank the potion and offered. "Well, good night?"
Harry smiled at him. "Good night, Ron. I'll see you at breakfast."
"Yeah. Okay."
Harry waited until Ron was gone and the sleeping potion was starting to kick in before he returned to his room, leaving the tea tray and its contents for Slinky or Sirius' house-elf – whom Harry had yet to meet – to clean up. His back still gave him trouble, but the sleeping potion kept it from keeping him up any longer, and he was dead to the world shortly after he'd curled up next to his husband.
"Sal?" Harry murmured drowsily as he registered the movement of the man getting up.
Salazar paused and glanced back at Harry. "Good morning," he offered. "Go back to sleep."
Harry sighed and dropped his head back on his pillow. "M' back's bothering me," he managed before the fading effects of the sleep potion drew him back to sleep.
Salazar frowned at that. "Your back?" he asked, but there was no response. Resigning himself to waiting, he got ready for the day, managing to grab their floor's only toilet before the youngest male Weasley. 'Then again, with what Harry said about the boy, I'm not surprised,' Salazar thought as he returned to his and Harry's room.
Before Salazar could retreat into his room, Mrs Weasley came down the stairs. She paused for a moment upon seeing him, then smiled. "Good morning, Sal," she offered, having joined most of the rest of the house in using Harry's nickname for the Founder. "You're up early."
"I often rise early," Salazar allowed. "If you'll forgive me?" He motioned towards the door of his and Harry's room.
"Of course. Breakfast should be ready within ten minutes," Mrs Weasley replied before continuing downstairs.
Once back in his room, Salazar slipped back onto the bed and brushed a hand through Harry's hair. The younger wizard let out a disgruntled sound and shifted, but didn't wake again. The shifting had put him in a better position for Salazar to look over the scars and Salazar smiled faintly at how his husband foresaw his requests even when asleep. 'And drugged,' Salazar realised, recognising the faint smell of a sleeping potion on Harry's breath.
Salazar waved a couple of spells over Harry's back, but everything seemed to be okay. A quick examination with his eyes and fingers told him nothing new, though it did draw Harry out of his potion-induced slumber and back to the world of the awake.
"Sal?" he mumbled as he rolled over to look up at his husband.
Salazar smiled at Harry and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. "Good morning. Again," he replied.
Harry's brow furrowed for a moment, then cleared. "Yeah. Morning." He went to sit up, then winced and fell back as his back stretched unpleasantly. "Ow."
Salazar quickly waved another diagnostic spell over Harry, but it returned only normal readings again. "Harry," he said, "I'm not finding anything wrong with your back."
Harry frowned and forced himself to sit up, ignoring the strange sensation. "Nothing? It was twinging all last night, keeping me up. And now it... Well, I don't know. It's...stretching, I suppose."
" 'Stretching'?" Salazar repeated even as he sorted through his spell knowledge for any explanations for this or a way to heal it.
Harry shrugged and winced as the motion caused his back to pull. "Yeah. Like it's newly healed skin. Feels just a little too tight."
Salazar raised an eyebrow at that. "Hm. Let me try something?"
"By all means." Harry shifted so his back was facing Salazar.
The Founder touched his wand to Harry's back and murmured, "Onliðaþ."
Harry let out a relieved sound as his back relaxed against his will and the almost-painful feeling vanished. He fell back against Salazar, smiling when the older wizard caught him against his chest. "Thank you."
Salazar brushed a kiss against Harry's jaw. "You're welcome," he murmured before meeting Harry's mouth for a kiss. He tapped his wand against the side of Harry's face after a moment, casting a silent breath freshening charm, and Harry pulled away to laugh.
"Trying to tell me something?" he teased.
"Your breath stinks," Salazar replied drily.
Harry laughed again and shoved himself to his feet. "You started the kiss," he pointed out.
"Hm. So I did," Salazar agreed absently, watching the familiar scars on Harry's back as the younger man moved. "I wish I knew what's wrong with your back this time," he said.
Harry shook his head. "Belated reaction to time travel?"
"I hope it's nothing more than that," Salazar agreed. "Let me know if it gives you any more trouble."
"I will," Harry promised.
"Even if I'm sleeping," Salazar insisted, knowing why Harry hadn't bothered him last night. When Harry didn't immediately agree, Salazar narrowed his eyes. "Harry."
"Yes, okay," Harry agreed. "Even if you're sleeping, I'll wake you and let you know." He sighed.
Salazar sniffed, not sure he believed Harry. "Molly says breakfast should be ready soon enough. I'm going to head on down."
"Okay. I'll join you shortly," Harry replied, slipping his knives into their places; he hardly needed them in Headquarters, but the act of putting them on each morning was ingrained in his routine after six years of Godric ordering them to always be armed and two years in areas of questionable safety.
Mr Weasley was downstairs by the time Harry made it down, explaining a function of the Ministry to a curious Salazar. Harry collected his own plate from Mrs Weasley and joined them. Lupin and Hermione joined them not long after, with Ginny and the twins stumbling in just in time to wish their father a good day. By the time Sirius made it down, Salazar had already retired to the library, and the twins volunteered themselves to wake Ron when their mother started wondering after him. Harry felt a little bit of pity for his friend.
When Ron was mostly finished with his breakfast, Mrs Weasley said, "This building needs a good cleaning, and it seems we have a crew right here." She looked over her four and Hermione. She glanced at Harry, and her expression softened. "You don't have to help, of course, Harry dear..."
Harry shook his head. "Count me in. I'd like to see this place liveable, too, and I don't intend to sit around and leave you lot to do the work when I'm more than capable."
"More capable than some of us," Ginny commented wryly, tapping her wand against the top of the table to remind them that she, Ron, and Hermione couldn't use magic.
"I bet you know more cleaning spells than I do," Harry replied, amused. "Anyway, nothing wrong with physical exercise to put you in a proper state of mind for one of Mrs Weasley's fantastic lunches."
Mrs Weasley smiled brightly at Harry. "Why thank you, dear. Now, let's start on the drawing room."
"Charmer," one of the twins muttered to Harry as they all trooped up the stairs to the first floor.
"You bet," Harry replied, grinning.
Lupin joined them in their attack on the drawing room, which definitely needed the attention, but Sirius spent most of the time poking his head in, looking hopefully towards Lupin or Harry, then vanishing before Mrs Weasley could catch sight of him.
They were just finishing up for lunch when Slinky popped into the room. "Master Harry?" she called, unable to see Harry because he'd crawled behind one of the couches.
Harry popped his head over the couch and smiled at his house-elf. "Hey, Slinky."
"Harry Potter, do you have a house-elf?" Hermione demanded.
"She's a free elf," Harry said, cutting the rant off before she could get going properly. "Slinky, what's wrong?"
Slinky shook her head. "Nothings being wrong, Master Harry. Professor Albus is being requestings that Masters join him in his office for lunch."
"Hn. Sal's in the library, if you could pass the message on to him?"
"Slinky will," the house-elf agreed before popping away.
Harry pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and brushed his hands together to get rid of the dust. "Well, guess that means there's two less people for lunch, Mrs Weasley."
"Of course," Mrs Weasley agreed, smiling. "Best not to keep Albus waiting."
"Indeed," Salazar said, stopping in the doorway. "I believe we can use the...floo, is it?"
"Should be able to," Harry agreed. "If Uncle doesn't need us to stay past lunch, I'll be back to help you more then," he promised those he'd been working with.
"We appreciate the help," Mrs Weasley replied. "Have a lovely lunch."
The two wizards left, Salazar casting a quick cleaning charm on Harry as they made their way downstairs. They met Sirius in the kitchen, stacking cups in a pyramid. "Are you lot done, then?" he asked hopefully.
"I think they're about to call a halt," Harry replied. "Uncle Albus has requested that Sal and I join him for lunch, so we'll be gone for a bit, though."
Sirius sighed. "Yeah, okay." He slumped back into his seat.
"You could help with the cleaning, you know," Harry pointed out.
Sirius snorted. "No thanks."
"Your choice," Harry said before leading the way to the floo.
A quick trip later and Harry and Salazar were standing in Albus' office, trading greetings with the Headmaster. "Please, sit while I have lunch sent up," he requested, waving at the small table that had appeared in the centre of the room with three seats.
They enjoyed some quiet meal chatter, Harry mentioning Mrs Weasley's cleaning rampage and Albus sharing some gossip about a couple of the professors who remained in the castle over the summer.
As the last of the food was vanished, leaving them with tea, Albus asked, "Sal, did you find anything out about the curse?" Harry glanced curiously at his husband, having left it up to Salazar to tell him what he'd found; he trusted that if it was important, Salazar would have told him.
Salazar nodded. "I can remove the curse, but it will require tearing the wards down and putting them back up again from the bottom; I'm not sure I really want to do that while we're in the middle of a war, however."
"There's another solution?" Harry asked, aware that his husband wouldn't have let the matter drop unless they had an alternative to pulling the wards down.
Salazar nodded. "The curse is specifically aimed at the 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' position. Change the name – perhaps to 'Magical Defence' – and that should negate the curse long enough for us to finish this war so I can tear down the wards."
"So simple?" Albus wondered, intrigued.
Salazar shrugged. "These things often are. If you wish to give a reason for the change without citing the curse, tell people you've found records that say the position was called Magical Defence in the Founders' era."
"It's certainly more neutral," Albus agreed. "Well, Harry, if you have no complaints?"
"I don't."
"Then I'll officially change the position name." They all nodded, Harry and Albus smiling widely at having solved the problem while Salazar just looked smug.
"Was that all?" Salazar asked.
Albus' smile vanished. "I'm afraid not," he replied, tone sombre. "Our first Order meeting is tonight and there are some things you should be aware of before we get into it." Harry and Salazar both narrowed their eyes, but made no other response, so Albus sighed and shook his head. "First, there is the question of whether or not to let everyone know who you two truly are. I trust most of the Order to hold our secrets, but as Harry can attest, Rubeus has trouble holding his tongue, and another member, Mundungus, has a habit of selling whatever he thinks he can put a price on to the highest bidder."
"And you trust him?" Salazar asked, disgusted.
"He is useful in keeping us apprised of dealings in the magical underworld," Albus explained. "I do usually keep him away from delicate information, but he's also given his Oath that he won't share any of the Order's plans or names with people outside the Order."
"But that doesn't mean he can't let it slip that I'm not dead," Harry murmured, frowning in thought. "I admit, it may be better not letting anyone else know who we are; the fewer people that know, the better. And while I adore Hagrid, he does have a bit of a loose tongue. Which I've no doubt you've used for your own purposes in the past." He shot a glance at Albus, who allowed a faint smile in response. "I assume you have confidants in the Order? A second-in-command, of a sort?"
"Alastor was the closest to my second," Albus admitted. "As he is dead, I believe the next person I would most trust would be Minerva McGonagall."
"That makes sense," Harry agreed.
"Then may I suggest we tell Minerva and leave it a secret for the others?" Salazar said. "If someone catches on to Harry's true identity, feel free to tell them who he is, but otherwise, we shall continue with the fiction that he is your nephew. Harry and I can pass the message of silence on to the others when we return."
"That's acceptable," Albus agreed. "I can ask Minerva to return with me to Hogwarts and tell her over dinner. You two may join us, but I'll leave that as your choice."
Harry and Salazar nodded. "And the other thing? Or things," Harry asked.
Albus sighed and motioned his pensieve out of its cabinet. "I should have, perhaps, shared this with you years ago," he told Harry, who tensed again, "but I thought you were yet too young for this responsibility. It seems you are more than old enough, now." He pressed his wand to his temple and drew out a silvery strand, which he dropped in the bowl. After a moment of watching it dance in the liquid, he touched his wand to it and the form of Sybill Trelawney rose up to speak in the harsh tones Harry remembered from his third year:
"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES... AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT... AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES... THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES..."
Harry and Salazar were both still for a long moment, faces a blank mask, as the figure over the pensieve sank back into the swirling liquid. Finally, Harry spoke, voice as empty as his expression, "I will assume that refers to myself and Voldemort."
"It does," Albus agreed, watching the two wizards with some worry. "Harry, I'm sorry–"
Harry shook his head and smiled wryly. "I wouldn't have told myself, either," he admitted, then let out a loud breath. "No, this just gives me a reason for the certainty that I had to return to deal with Voldemort. It doesn't matter, in the long run: I'd fully intended to see him dead before you showed me that, and I know Sal agrees with me."
"Indeed," Salazar agreed grimly.
Albus sighed, relief in his eyes. "I believed you would say something of the like, and I'm grateful that you're not angry with me."
Harry shrugged. "I am, a little, but I understand your reasoning."
Albus smiled sadly. "There is a copy of this prophecy in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. I'm uncertain if Voldemort will be looking to get his hands on it, as he believes you dead, but I'm not taking any chances; Neville Longbottom also fits part of the prophecy – as much of it as Voldemort knows, at least – and he might look for it to see if Neville will turn into a problem for him."
Harry grimaced. "I'll see if I can't give Neville some extra tutoring this year, then; if Voldemort might consider him a target, he needs to be able to cast some spells."
Albus inclined his head. "I'll leave that for you and Mr Longbottom to work out. I've already sent an owl to his grandmother, letting her know that he might well become a target, but I've yet to hear back from her. It's possible she's taken him into hiding."
"Is she a member of the Order?" Salazar asked.
"She is not, though her son and daughter-in-law were. I did suggest she consider joining, but I don't believe she will." Albus sighed. "Augusta has always been rather headstrong."
"Perhaps she is simply uncertain how best to handle things," Harry commented. "Even if she won't join, you could send another owl and suggest Neville join us at Headquarters. There are a number of his classmates there, after all, and it's well protected. And I can always teach them the theory behind some spells, so they might have a better chance come the new term."
"I'll send her an owl with that suggestion," Albus agreed with a smile, which vanished as he spoke again, "There is one last thing I must tell you before you go, something that pertains to the defeat of Voldemort." The two younger wizards nodded for him to continue and he asked, "Do either of you know anything of horcruxes?"
Harry and Salazar traded frowns, then both shook their heads. "It's not even vaguely familiar," Harry said.
Albus nodded. "It is a container for a part of a person's soul."
"A part of their soul?" Harry demanded, disgusted. "Why would anyone want to split their soul?"
"Immortality," Salazar suggested.
"That is correct," Albus agreed. "While a part of one's soul remains attached to a physical object, that person cannot die, even if their body is gone; though I doubt life as a partial soul is much of a life."
Harry had a sudden memory of his brief stay in the graveyard, of Voldemort's words when he explained how he had survived the rebounded Killing Curse: "...I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost...but still, I was alive..."
"Voldemort has a horcrux," he murmured, glancing at Albus.
"I believe he has more than one," Albus replied and they all grimaced in disgust. "You have already destroyed one, in fact, Harry."
"I have?" Harry murmured, thinking back to his days as a student in this time. 'A container with a soul... Oh.' "The diary."
Albus inclined his head. "Exactly. I believe there are others because he survived past that one."
Harry nodded. "It makes sense. Do you have any ideas what the other – or others – are?"
Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "I know that, as a boy, Tom had a magpie-like tendency to collect trophies to mark his conquests over his opponents, and that he also had an attachment to Hogwarts; he is quite proud of his ancestry."
"So, items that passed down from the Slytherin line?" Harry suggested, glancing at Salazar. "Nothing from either of us, but there could be something of Angus'."
"He was quite fond of that sword his father gave him," Salazar pointed out. "And there was that ugly locket of his."
Harry smiled at the memory of the locket, which Angus had been so proud of, claiming it had been his grandfather's and was given to him special as the only true grandson of Silvanus Slytherin. Salazar had taken great pleasure in commenting on how ugly and unwieldy it was every time he caught Angus polishing it.
"A gold locket with a green 'S' made of gems?" Albus asked and the two younger wizards shot him a sharp look.
"That's it," Salazar agreed. "It survived, then?"
"It did. There was also a ring, but I believe that was from the Peverell line, rather than the Slytherin line."
Harry and Salazar shrugged, not having any memories of a ring or knowing anything of the Peverell line.
"I know nothing of a sword, but I know that when Tom found the locket, he also came across a gold cup with a badger engraved on the side that was said to belong to Helga Hufflepuff."
Salazar looked towards Harry, not knowing of any cups that belonged to Helga. Harry frowned it thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Helga never used any cups beyond the ones we all used, so far as I know. I'll ask Ramona if she knows anything about it, though."
"She would certainly know more than we would," Salazar agreed. "If Voldemort used something of Helga's, it stands to reason that he might have used something of Godric or Rowena's."
"All that survived of Gryffindor – his sword and the Hat – have remained in this office," Albus offered. "As for Ravenclaw, I know of nothing that survived her."
"I do," Harry said, sitting up. "The diadem. Helena said she took it to Romania, and if she didn't have the chance to bring it back..."
"It might well have survived," Salazar agreed.
"Romania?" Albus asked, brow furrowed. "Tom did spend some time there before he began tormenting our world as Lord Voldemort."
"Slinky!" Harry called and the house-elf appeared at his side. "Could you ask Helena to come up here, please?"
"Slinky will," the house-elf agreed before popping away again.
"You think Helena might have told him where it was?" Salazar asked his husband, frowning.
"I think a thousand years is a long time to get lonely and regret leaving her mother's diadem to rot," Harry replied, voice tight. "I also think Tom Riddle was quite charming, when he wanted to be."
"So he was," Albus agreed.
Helena floated up through the floor and offered a faint smile. "Harry, Salazar, Headmaster. Slinky said you wished to speak with me?"
Harry nodded. "Helena, did you ever tell anyone else where you left the diadem?"
Helena considered that for a moment, then nodded. "A few people, shortly after we returned to the castle, but no one ever found it." She frowned briefly, then said, "And a boy, some decades ago, who heard about it from Alexander, I believe, and wanted to return it to its rightful home. If he found it, he never returned with it."
"This boy, his name was Tom?" Albus asked.
"That's right," Helena agreed. "Tom Puzzle? No..."
"Tom Riddle," Harry murmured and Helena nodded. He sighed and offered her a smile. "Thank you, Helena."
"Helena," Salazar said as she started to sink back through the floor and she stopped. "Could you take a trip to where you left the diadem and see if it's still there? Take Slinky, so you can bring it back."
"Certainly, Salazar," Helena agreed and left.
"It's very likely Tom did find it, then, and turned it into a horcrux," Albus decided, regretful.
"Perhaps he left it where it was and it will be simple to deal with," Salazar decided. "Finding the others, assuming they are, in fact, horcruxes, will be far more interesting."
Albus nodded. "I have some places I think they might be, but I can't be sure about any of them, and I'm far too obvious to be seen snooping around."
"We can handle it over the next few weeks," Harry offered. He glanced at Salazar. "After lunch, perhaps?"
Salazar nodded. "That's fine."
"I'll put together a list of places and give it to you at the meeting," Albus promised. "You can work on it as you please."
"Is that everything?" Harry asked, ready to rise from his chair and go to speak with Ramona and Merlin.
"I believe so," Albus agreed.
"We'll see you tonight, then," Salazar offered and the two left to return to their rooms.
Merlin and Ramona were joking with Alexander when Harry and Salazar entered the room. They all turned to smile at the two living humans, but the smiles faded when they recognised the grim tone to their bearing. "What is it?" Ramona asked.
"A gold cup, said to belong to the Hufflepuff line," Harry said without preamble. "Passed down through the years?"
Ramona blinked, then frowned and considered the question for a moment. "For my wedding, Conrad gifted me a gold cup with a badger engraved on one side, which I passed on to Lily for her wedding," she offered. "I believe he made it himself."
Harry sighed and nodded. "That's probably it, then." To their curious looks, he explained, "We believe Voldemort split his soul and placed pieces in various objects. Uncle Albus thinks the cup might be one, as well as Angus' locket and Rowena's diadem."
"I'm liking this man less and less by the second," Ramona muttered.
"Good riddance to that locket, though," Alexander offered and the five of them shared a nasty grin.
"Angus would have liked that Voldemort used his locket to allow him to kill more non-magicals," Salazar pointed out.
"Yes, he rather would have," Alexander admitted.
"Is there any way for you to claim the items?" Merlin asked and they all turned to him with frowns.
"Claim them?" Harry asked.
Merlin nodded. "I believe Ramona put in her will that she wanted the cup to eventually go to you, assuming it lasted through the centuries, as I put in my will that I wanted this portrait to go to you, just in case it found its way out of Hogwarts before you got back."
"I did," Ramona agreed. "Something along the lines of, 'anything that once was mine should go to Harry Slytherin if it should survive to his birth'."
"That's an interesting question," Harry allowed, "and one I might well take up with the goblins next time I go by. Although, I wouldn't want to deprive your descendants."
"Those items would mean far more to you than they would to them," Alexander insisted. "As far as the magicals of this era are concerned, they're priceless relics to be placed on display."
"And they wouldn't be for me?" Harry asked drily.
"I don't know, would they?" Alexander retorted.
Harry smiled, shaking his head. "No," he admitted. Those things that once belonged to his friends were memories of their friendship and love, to be kept close and used as they were made to be, not placed on display for passing witches and wizards to stare at. Especially since those wizards and witches knew nothing of their owners.
"You may have a claim on the cup, and perhaps Helena can make a claim on the diadem, but none of us can claim the locket," Salazar pointed out.
"Maybe, maybe not," Harry murmured, shaking his head. "It's from your family line, and if the goblins buy into the belief that it once belonged to you, you may well be able to claim it. The only object I think might be problematic is this ring that Uncle mentioned, since it's from some other family line."
Salazar shrugged. "Finding only one object is easier than finding four," he pointed out and Harry inclined his head in agreement. He shook his head. "There's nothing more we can do about this today, at any rate, and we need to make sure those at Headquarters know not to mention our true identities."
Harry nodded. "We should go, then."
"Are you coming back here tonight?" Ramona asked.
Harry and Salazar traded looks and Harry shrugged. "Perhaps," Salazar agreed. "I take it you feel the need to gossip like a couple of old women with my husband?"
"How could we ever have forgotten what an arse you can be?" Ramona retorted.
Harry rolled his eyes. "We'll probably stay in London tonight, since it's closer to Gringotts, but we'll come back to spend time with you tomorrow night," he promised.
"Sounds good," Merlin said before Salazar or Ramona could say different. He and Harry rolled their eyes when Ramona and Salazar sniffed, Alexander laughing at the lot of them.
"Come along, Sal," Harry ordered, taking Salazar's arm and pulling him towards the door. "Good night, everyone! See you tomorrow!"
"Good night!" the other three called back before returning to whatever discussion Harry and Salazar had interrupted.
-0-
A/N: Once again, I've not quite reached Sev. And he's not going to be told who Harry and Sal really are, though he'll probably figure it out on his own in time. XD
Next chapter.
~Bats ^.^x
Spells:
Onliðaþ -- meaning 'to loosen' in Old English.
A spell used primarily by healers to loosen tense muscles, but can also be used to loosen other body parts. Fell out of use when the muscle relaxation potion was created in the eleventh century.
01 - Impossible Distance || 02 - Layers of Harmony || 03 - Breaking Inside
04 - Let It Flow || 05 - White Horses || 06 - Disturbs Your Slumber
07 - Heart Worth Breaking || 08 - Keep It Inside || 09 - Like the Stars
10 - I'll Breathe Again || 11 - Set Fire to the Rain || 12 - Generation Built on a Lie
13 - In Defence of Our Dreams ||
16 - I'm Not Drowning || 17 - Beating of the Storm || 18 - Let Me See Your Fire
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