Saturday morning dawned with an overcast sky, a lot of wind and a light drizzle. Normally on such a day, people would be lying in bed or staying indoors. However, had anybody in the castle looked out of the window, they would have seen the figures of Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot and Harry Potter running across the grounds and battling the wind.
'This is getting ridiculous,' said a windswept Neville. He was sure that had the wind been any stronger, he would have been blown off course into the lake.
'Yeah, I think I'll catch my death of cold there if we continue running outside,' said Susan to which Hannah agreed with a nod.
'It's just a bit of rain and wind,' Harry told his friends nonchalantly.
'What?' he asked his friends, upon noticing the looks the other three were giving him.
'"A bit of rain and wind"? A bit?' Susan looked at Harry as if he was crazy. 'Are you mad?'
'What are you talking about? It wasn't so bad,' said Harry defensively. As he was talking, a strong gust of wind rattled the window panes of the corridor they were in. 'I've had much worse at Quidditch practice. And that's when we're flying.'
'That explains it,' Hannah sighed while Susan muttered under her breath imprecations on Quidditch players and what she thought of their mental health. The girls looked at him sadly and for the remainder of the morning till they left for their dorms, Harry had to endure a lot of mock-pitying looks and good-natured ribbing about the state of his mental health.
Done with his classes for the morning (which was partly spent getting on Astoria's nerves, though the girl was quite good at holding her own), Harry headed out towards the Quidditch pitch.
Quite a few people had put their names down to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and it was Harry's job as captain to select those who were the most competent and form a team that would lead Gryffindor into a Quidditch victory, bringing home the cup for the third time in a row since Harry had come to play, and keeping Professor McGonagall happy for another year. The last bit was especially important to Harry as it meant that there was one less chance of the Scot taking out her family's claymore, which he had noticed on the wall behind her desk, and charging at him while raining spells down from her wand ... Or worse, turning him into a fluffy kitten.
Looking at the rather long list in his hand, Harry massaged his forehead with his fingers. At first when Professor McGonagall had given him the list, he had wondered why the Gryffindor team had become so popular. However a look at the names showed him how mistaken he was. Judging by the number of females there, it proved that it wasn't the team that was popular, it was Harry. It definitely explained the amused look on Professor McGonagall's face he thought he had seen as she handed the list to him.
Walking out into the pitch with his Firebolt in hand and a whistle hanging from his neck, Harry spotted the large crowd of hopefuls for the team. He let out a long suffering sigh; this is going to take some time he thought.
And he was right. A good chunk of those present turned out to be from the other houses. Rabid Fan Girls, Harry thought in disgust as they left the pitch, giggling all the way. Getting an idea, he blew the whistle around his neck putting on his most authoritative look as he told them to get a move on. He was rewarded with some entertainment as one half of the girls swooned at the image he was presenting while the other half were left pretty senseless with the amount of giggling they were doing.
The rest of the selection process didn't go that well. He had to find the most diplomatic way to tell the first-years that they weren't selected for the team without reducing them to tears, which was much harder than it looked mainly because of the amount of hope they had shining in their eyes. Though Harry had to give it to them, they had put on a good effort, even if most of them didn't have much experience flying. Some of them had the potential to be great with some training, as he took care to tell them. Harry really had to control himself though when he saw one of them crash into the goalposts, being so surprised at staying airborne for so long. Merlin that was funny!
He almost immediately ordered back the second group of people. They were the Gryffindor contingent of the Rabid Fan Girls. Harry watched with some annoyance as they went back up the stands as and started heckling the other hopefuls. Maybe he should have insisted that they leave altogether.
In the end, after two hours, Harry had for himself three Chasers, two Beaters and a headache. Katie was as usual in top form, Ginny was, as expected, quite a brilliant flier and Demelza Robins, a new find, had quite a bit of promise. Jimmy Peaks and Ritchie Coote, his new Beaters may not have the brilliance of Fred and George Weasley, but they were pretty good in their own way. They certainly had made an impression on Harry, partly being responsible for the headache he now had and fully responsible for the lump he was nursing.
Now all he had to do was find a Keeper. He looked at the stands that were now almost filled with students from other houses along with the rejected players and felt his head give another throb. The lump that he currently had on the back of his head did not help matters.
Eventually Ron ended up returning to the team. Harry was certainly grateful. It meant that Cormac McLaggen didn't get the spot, as Harry coolly told him with expertly concealed relish. Additionally it also meant that he now had some blackmail material on his bushy haired best friend. Harry had noticed the Confundus Charm that she had sent McLaggen's way even if everyone else hadn't. That was rather naughty of her, he thought. At least it would stop her from harping on and on about the Potions book he had.
Not that it really mattered. Harry had, in a sudden burst of inspiration, bought two new Potions books. He had given one back to Slughorn, claiming that it was a replacement for the old book which had been tragically destroyed in an accident. The other he had kept for appearance's sake in class while slowly and steadily filling that book in with the additional instructions and corrections from the Prince's copy. He was also looking into ways to make it seem that the annotations that he had made looked like the words printed by the author so that certain people didn't notice at first glance. Till then he was pretending to have made the annotations after having deeply studied the potion ahead of time.
Harry had also found a few spells of questionable origin on the margins of the book. Those he copied into a notebook to study and test out later. As soon as he squeezed out every last drop of information from the book, he planned to arrange for that "tragic accident" he had told Slughorn about.
Once the trials were over and the team selected, Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent another few hours first cajoling Hagrid and soothing his ruffled feathers as the half-giant was pretty miffed that not one of them had signed up for his N.E.W.T. class and then consoling him after he revealed that he was worried about Aragog's health, reassuring him that yes, they too would miss the elephant sized, blind, man-eating, arachnid and no, they did not hold it against the spider when he and his legions of children had tried to eat two of them. After all, what is a bit of attempted murder between a friend and a friend of a friend? Thankfully Hagrid didn't catch the insincerity in those remarks.
Harry spent supper with Ron and Hermione silently letting the girl know that he knew what she had done. Once finished, he made his excuses and after making sure that he was alone, headed towards the Chamber.
His surprise promotion had set his plans for the Chamber back by a few days, and now that he was free, he planned to use it.
Reaching the Chamber proper, Harry checked on the elves' progress. Seeing that they would be done by the end of the day, he took the quotations handed to him by Randolph which sent by some repair companies for the materials which would be needed to repair the cave-in and the Chamber itself for review.
Looking through them, he chose a company and resolved to have the letter written as soon as possible.
When he was on his way out, Harry stopped at the antechamber. He thoughtfully looked at the two archways on either side of the outwards-leading tunnel. The way they were set, facing opposite each other and exactly at right angles to the entrance and exit tunnels, was interesting. If one looked at it, if the two archways were actual tunnels, the four exits would resemble the four points of a compass.
Remembering what the goblins had told him a long time back, Harry went to the archway to his left to examine it, placing his palm flat against the centre of the surface in order to feel for any carvings or irregularities his eyes might miss. However, as soon as his hand came into contact with the surface of the stone, it became stuck in place.
Harry had a moment of panic when his hand refused to budge. After some useless tugging he calmed down to think. OK, so pulling is not working, looks like I will have to find another way, he thought.
He didn't need to think much longer as at that moment, he felt a stinging sensation in his hand. The stonework then momentarily flashed white before reverting to its original colour, freeing Harry's hand.
Blinking back the spots and recovering his vision after a moment, Harry looked down at his palm. The stinging sensation he had felt a few moments back was gone, replaced by a phantom pain that shortly subsided. Frowning at his unmarked palm, he looked back at the archway.
The stone was no longer dusty looking. It seemed that the flash of light (or was it a pulse of magic) had erased away centuries of dirt, leaving a gleaming grey stone wall that looked as if it had been just built there yesterday.
However the most distinguishing feature of the wall was the large engraving of a snake that dominated it.
Sucking in a breath, Harry looked at the snake. Going on a hunch, he said 'open'. The snake was so lifelike and intricately made that it wasn't much of a strain to say the words in Parseltongue.
With a slight grinding noise the wall underneath the archway (which Harry now realised had a strange set of carvings on them) sunk slowly inwards and then slid to the right, leaving an empty dark entrance for Harry to step through.
Lighting his wand and looking around cautiously, Harry stepped through the entrance. As soon as he was through, the stone wall slid back into place with a thud leaving him in total darkness but for the light coming from his wand.
The darkness didn't last for long as with a hiss, ancient torches came to life, along with a long dormant lighting charm, bathing Harry's surroundings in white light.
Blinking at the sudden influx of light, Harry extinguished his wand, and still holding it aloft, looked around. What he saw nearly made him drop his wand.
The first thing he noticed in the cavernous room he now found himself in was the small piles of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. However, those piles were dwarfed by the pyramids of gold and silver ingots that were all just about as wide as they were tall, while being just about Harry's height. Looking closer, Harry found out that all the ingots were stamped with what he assumed was the Slytherin coat of arms; an ornate serpentine S just like in the locket he had seen in that memory.
The pyramids of precious metals weren't the only major feature of the vault (for it could be nothing else but the Slytherin vault). In small little niches carved into the wall, Harry could find small piles of glittering diamonds, glimmering emeralds, and glowing rubies. There were also a few pieces of jewellery there too. Mainly rings, necklaces and the like. Nothing too fancy unlike the locket Harry had seen in Bob Ogden's memory.
A closer look at the coins revealed that they were not the modern day Galleons, Sickles and Knuts Harry was so used to. This looked to be the ancient variant, the edges not the perfect circle of Harry's coins. However, Harry noticed that the profile on the face of the coin was the same. Shrugging, Harry looked around to the other side of the room, his back to the Slytherin Family Fortune.
On the opposite side was a treasure of another kind. Set in a bookcase were twelve volumes of thick hardbound books, still in pristine condition, even if the materials used to make them were of a different make. Harry noticed that the books were actually made of paper instead of parchment. True the paper was not the thin modern Muggle version, but it still was paper.
Harry eagerly opened one of the books. Who knows what ancient arcane knowledge was written there?
However, he was soon to be disappointed. The book he had opened was written in a language of which the only thing Harry could make out was that it wasn't a European language. It certainly wasn't even close to the runes he had been learning.
Putting the book back, Harry did a systematic check of the other books, starting from the bottom right up to the top left. Sure enough each and every one of the books was written in the same script.
It was with a sense of deep disappointment that Harry opened the last book on the top left. Sure enough, it was written in the same flowing script that the other books were written in. Sighing, Harry shut the book with a snap. However, just as he was about to close the book, he caught a glimpse of something written in the first page.
Recognising the script, Harry opened the book to that page again. Guessing that it was an incantation, Harry drew his wand and reading from the book, said, 'annuli apparere' hoping with all his might that it would present a solution to his problem.
Immediately a pedestal appeared bearing a cushion with a ring on top of it. Walking up to the ring, Harry picked it up to examine it. The emerald set into the ring had Slytherin's mark etched within. It reminded Harry of one of those glass cubes Dudley had bought for himself in an amusement park with his face etched inside that had lasted for a week before the fat twit destroyed it. Actually Harry had done the actual destruction. It was one of those few times that he had managed to get away with it and blame Dudley for it. Harry thought it as a mercy killing. The poor glass must have suffered a lot having something so ugly within it!
Reciting the oath that he had said upon putting on the Potter and Black family rings, Harry slipped this ring onto his right ring finger, next to the Black family ring which he had taken to wearing on his right pointer finger with the Potter family ring now resting on his left ring finger.
Immediately upon placing the ring, Harry felt a small niggling in his mind. He had about half a second to think that maybe putting the ring on without having it examined might have been a bad idea when he was abruptly transported into a world of pain as his mind was suddenly and brutally assaulted by information. Sinking to his knees clutching his head, Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying to ride out the pain. Just when he thought he might pass out from the pain, the information flow stopped.
Shaking his head, Harry got to his feet, swaying a bit and silently resolving not to put on strange rings without knowing what they do.
He noticed a pile of documents behind the plinth when he gave it a glare as if blaming it for the pain the ring had caused him. Looking them over, he found that they detailed the location of two diamond mines and one gold mine. He might have to get these checked out, for he wasn't sure what state they would be in after centuries of disuse. For all he knew, they could be barren.
What was interesting however, were the documents detailing the castle plans and the layout of the wards. There were also instructions on how Harry could recharge and take control of said wards from the current headmaster should he so desire. It all but gave him full control of the castle. He would have to think about this. Right now he had no reason to do so, but it was an interesting proposition.
Harry smiled at this; finally he found some documents that belonged to Slytherin that he could read. Sure they were in Latin, and the handwriting wasn't great, but...
Wait a minute, since when did he know how to speak and read Latin?
Harry's thoughts ground to a halt at this. He was certain that he had no knowledge of the language beyond the few phrases and words he had used when casting spells. He looked with suspicion at the ring he had put on.
Going on a hunch, he went back to the bookshelf. Opening the first book which had contained the incantation to make the signet ring appear (he now knew what "Annuli Apparere" meant) he stared at the first page written in the foreign script;
Suddenly the letters in the script seemed to make sense to Harry where they had not done so before. Reading a few lines, he came to the conclusion that it was Salazar Slytherin's journal. Harry was excited. Here was basically the life of one of the four founders of Hogwarts written in his own words! Not only that, but Slytherin was one of the most talked about Parselmouths as well as the most mysterious. Slytherin certainly would have put in some spells written down in Parseltongue.
My name is Salazar and I am the eldest son of the Slytherin clan were the opening lines of the first page.
As I write this, I have completed a hundred and twenty years of my life. And what a life it has been. In the following pages, I have documented all that I have seen, learnt and done. In an effort to make sure that only my true heir can read this, I have translated all of my memoirs which were written in Anglo-Saxon, Gaelic and Latin into the language of the snakes of which the written form I had learnt in the far east.
I do not know, however, if these memoirs will ever be read. As I sit writing this, I think of my current family. I am the last of the true Slytherin line left. Almost all of my sons and family relations have killed each other off in a bid for power and the right to the title of head of Slytherin house and the access to the family fortune it will bring them. To think, that a man would be willing to kill his own brother just for material gain. Oh how far the noble line of Slytherin has fallen: Cousins killing cousins; uncles killing their nephews, and sons willing to end the lives of their own fathers with nary a thought.
In my disgust, I have taken each and every last sliver of gold, silver and bronze belonging to the family, and secreted it away in my chamber leaving the barest of amounts in the goblin vaults. I have also placed modified secrecy wards on all properties owned by me and placed their secrets here in the vault
The world thinks me dead, and I plan on keeping it that way. Godric may think that he has driven me away, but he forgets that the castle is mine. It was built on my land, by my own architects. He also forgets that I have woven the wards, that my blood fuels them. It is of no importance anyhow.
I have sealed away this chamber. Only a pure-blood descendant of mine with sufficient power and the Gift will be able to open this chamber. That should ensure that only those worthy of my title and power shall gain access to it.
I think this shall be a good way to test the worth of my youngest daughter's children. Morag Gaunt may be a cunning and intelligent man from a wealthy family, but I still have my reservations about him. I have watched his children grow up from the shadows. They do possess my gift. The problem is their father's theory on keeping the family magic strong. I am not comfortable with the idea of a person marrying a blood relation to keep the line pure. While His Majesty's family does it, I cannot help but feel that it may diminish the magical power of the offspring.
I refuse to have a magically weak individual be the next Lord Slytherin. Nor do I wish a person of dirty blood to be one either. To this end, I have created these wards. Only a person who is born of magical blood, bearing my magical gift and sufficient power shall enter.
My time is running out. The translation spell took its toll on me. This body is no longer as spry as it used to be. However I am not done yet. I still have to place the necessary spells on my ring to transfer the knowledge of how to read and write in the Language of the Snakes to the next heir. I fear it may be the last action of mine upon this earth.
I have instructed the house-elves to transport my remains to the secret burial chamber where the remains of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff shall also join me later on, transported secretly by the house-elves of the castle. They don't know it yet, and I hope that Godric can forgive me later on. However, this is for the greater good. Our bodies, so strong in magic, shall be able to fuel the wards and magic of the castle, reducing the amount of time it will take for the castle to become self sustaining according to Rowena's calculations. I have also prepared a separate crypt for the headmasters and headmistresses of the school who prove to be the most powerful and the most dedicated towards the school. I am sure they shall not refuse the honour. Their families shall forever think that they have been buried in the family graveyard. Never knowing that the bodies will rest within the school they helped to build and guide.
I have also tasked the small staff of elves to bond with the castle and the witch or wizard that has taken on the mantle of being headmaster of the school for the duration of his or her tenure. The elves have sworn an oath to me that they and their descendants shall obey whoever bears my ring. This is something that I had not expected ... suffice to say, I am touched.
To my future heir, whoever you are. This page serves as my last will and testament. The fact that you have found my Chamber of Secrets and the Vault and can read this proves that you have what it takes to put on the Signet Ring of the House of Slytherin. Bearing the ring makes you Lord Slytherin, the Earl of Grantabrycge, no matter your age. It is my wish that you carry the Slytherin name with honour and pride and restore its reputation.
It is also this old man's hope that you continue and hopefully realise the goals that I had started. These will be clarified in the following pages of this book and the next eleven books detailing my life story.
Good luck, and may Merlin watch over you.
Harry stood there gobsmacked as he read what Slytherin had written. He was sorely tempted to turn the page and continue reading. However, a glance at his watch showed that he did not have the time to do so if he wanted to explore the other passageway, which, if his hunch was correct, was the same one mentioned in the book. So, it was with great regret that he shut the book and replaced it on the shelf. At least, he would have to tell the goblins about the change in his status. He would also have to debate on whether or not it is feasible to have the rather sizeable fortune transferred to Gringotts. He knew that the goblins would have an orgasm at the sight of all that gold. The fortune here was certainly making him feel close to having one! Though it could be because he hadn't shagged in a while ... Harry shrugged at that. He would have to look into that later. Till then he would have to rely on his hand to take care of things.
Stepping towards the vault entrance, Harry wondered how he was going to open the door when it automatically slid open, answering his question. Stepping outside with the sheaf of documents in his hand, he watched as it closed behind him.
Turning around, he headed towards the second closed archway. As he approached it, the signet ring that he had just worn gave a pulse causing the archway to slide open in the same manner. Not breaking his stride, Harry entered the passageway.
He walked through the tunnel, his path lit by torches showing the smooth stone that made the sides of the tubular tunnel and in a short while he found himself at the end of the tunnel.
What he saw took his breath away.
The tunnel opened out into a large balcony carved into a ledge at the other side of the mountain that Hogwarts was built upon. A design that Harry could not decipher was engraved upon the floor. While the balcony was left open to the elements, the detail in the design made Harry suspect the presence of a ward designed to repel the elements. Unfortunately the furniture hadn't survived, as was evidenced by the cracked pieces of stone that once might have been a bench.
However it wasn't the balcony that had Harry's attention. It was the view the balcony afforded. From the balcony, bathed in the dying light of the sun, he could see a green valley with a bed of daffodils at the bottom near a small brook with a few trees scattered here and there. Placed near the brook was a small stone structure.
Inching to the edge, Harry gingerly looked down. The drop was pretty steep. The boy carefully stepped back as the distance to the valley floor coupled with the lack of a railing or any other safety feature gave him vertigo. Turning around, he looked up and saw the back of the castle rising up above him. He had to strain a bit to see the towers, but he guessed that he was below the astronomy tower. He daren't lean back any further for fear of plunging to his death.
Resolving to take his broom with him the next time he came here, Harry hurried back up the tunnel and from there, to the castle. He had Slughorn's party to attend.
More than a month had passed and it was now midway through October. Neville and the girls had improved a lot over that time and contrary to Harry's initial expectations had stayed with the programme. Though, Harry wondered how enthusiastic they would be after the winter holidays.
Due to the worsening weather conditions, the girls had bullied Harry into using the Room of Requirement for their exercises, only using the grounds occasionally on days like today, when the weather permitted it, meaning, according to Neville and the girls, when it wasn't pouring down so much that they would have been better off swimming in the lake with their clothes on.
While the Room was limited in size, using it afforded them the advantage of allowing them to switch to practising their spell-work almost immediately, thus cutting down the amount of time they spent in the morning.
Done for the morning, Harry headed towards the dorms to get ready for the first trip of the term to Hogsmeade. He and Daphne had agreed to meet at The Three Broomsticks for their first official outing. Slughorn's little party didn't count as it sounded too much like a school function, even though they knew that it was a private affair organised by Slughorn and not by the school. There was also the added disadvantage of not being with each other for most of the party seeing as the host saw fit to drag Harry from pillar to post (or in this case, politician to celebrity) to showcase the fact that he, Horace Slughorn, was teaching the Boy-Who-Lived (who was also now known as "the Chosen One").
As he stepped into the bathroom, Harry ruminated over the past month and a half.
The elves had finally managed to render the basilisk down into useful ingredients. Harry was now the proud owner of a large amount of shed snake skin, which while lighter and thinner than the hide of the animal, was still tough enough. Harry planned on getting a pair of boots and perhaps a jacket or two made of the hide. It did give off a nice dark green colour when caught in the light while looking black otherwise. Though, a pair of gloves and a money bag sounded like a good idea too. He certainly had enough of hide and snakeskin to go around! Perhaps he could make small objects to give to his friends...
Along with the snake skin and hide, Harry also had two litres of basilisk venom. The ancient overgrown garden snake really could secret quite a large amount of the stuff. The venom was extremely corrosive as well as highly poisonous. It had worn through three pairs of the toughest dragon hide gloves before it was all extracted and stored in glass jars. For now, Harry had placed the venom in a secure vault in the basement of his Potter ancestral home. He might sell it in the future, in small doses of course, (he didn't want to flood the market and lower the price) but he was a bit leery of selling it. The venom could be deadly in the wrong hands.
Then there were the eyes, which may not be that useful seeing as they had been punctured with a phoenix's beak, the tongue, which may have some useful properties, and quite a lot of heartstrings. The snake did have a big heart ... the joke still cracked Harry up ever since he made it (though Randolph for some reason would have a pained look on his face when it was mentioned ... the elf had no humour whatsoever). And last but not the least were the teeth. Harry had one of the two large fully formed fangs in his trunk. He had no idea what he planned on doing with it yet. The other fang along with the unformed fangs found in the roof of the basilisk's mouth (there were four) were stashed together with the snake's normal teeth.
Once all the useful (or potentially useful) parts had been removed, what remained was the flesh of the snake, the rest of its internal organs and a partly digested Acromantula. As all of these were quite resistant to vanishing spells, it was decided to have the remains transported to the nearest volcano to be incinerated.
With traces of the snake now removed, the renovation of the chamber could begin. While the house-elves could restore the cave in, they did not have the skills necessary to restore the chamber proper to its former glory. That required a different skill set. It was one thing to patch up a piece of wall and make a rough but serviceable tunnel. It was another thing entirely to repair a chamber that was created to be visually impressive.
After that was taken care of, Harry would then try to renew the charms. He hoped he could find what those charms were in the books that Slytherin had written so long ago so that he could fully renew them on his own.
However, that was proving to be a bit difficult. Salazar Slytherin, in his infinite wisdom, had interspersed all the spells he had learnt and invented with the story of his life. While the founder had fully detailed what he had learnt and the process involved in the invention of spells, that was routinely interrupted by details of what he had done for the day after he had finished his work.
Needless to say, it was rather vexing. Harry grumbled to himself as he thought of those books. Couldn't the man have written a separate book listing all the spells? No, he just had to write about his life and put in the spells in the middle so that anybody reading them also ends up finding out what he ate, drank and wore on the twelfth of November Nine Eighty Five. Salazar Slytherin, Harry concluded, was pretty full of himself. Harry was sure that Salazar Slytherin himself was the one who had erected that statue and set the password to open the aforementioned statue's mouth.
Harry sighed as the water from the shower hit his body. After running outside in the cold October morning, the warm water was extremely relaxing. It also let him see the positive side of those books. The books gave him a good idea about the full life of Salazar Slytherin, from the age of nine in Eight Eighty Five A.D., when he could first read and write, all the way to Nine Ninety Six A.D. where, at the extraordinarily long lived age of a hundred and twenty, he had written his last entry and had translated all his memoirs to Parseltongue.
So far from what Harry had read in the first book, Salazar Slytherin was the oldest son of a noble family that could trace its roots to the times of the Roman Empire. In fact, the Slytherins were the members of the original Wizards Council which had been formed by Merlin himself.
Though one thing that he hadn't been able to find out was just how he, a half-blood managed to pass the test and be let into the vault. Sure he had been adopted by a pure-blood and had another pure-blood as his biological father. But it did not change the fact that his mother was Muggleborn. By all rights, he shouldn't have been able to access the vault.
Harry had so far read till Slytherin's life at the age of twelve. At that time, pure-blood children were educated in the ways of magic by their family members. The spells Salazar had learnt and written down (which were easily spotted as they were Latin words amidst a sea of Parseltongue) so far were basically the ancient and somewhat more primitive variant of the modern spells that Harry had learnt so far.
They weren't as polished and refined as the modern versions and they were wordier. For example, the variant of the levitation charm that Slytherin knew had four words as opposed to the two that Harry knew. Of course the upside to that was that there was little wand movement involved in casting, and the spell had a wider area of effect, enabling the caster to lift more than one object at a time with lesser concentration and wand movements, unlike the modern version, where one had to concentrate a bit more as well as include a wider swish. This had both an advantage and a disadvantage. It was useful if you wanted to lift and move several objects at once, but fairly useless when you only wanted to move just one object. To do that, another spell was required and it had even more words. Basically in those days, it was better to just lift a single object instead of going through the trouble of levitating it.
On the other hand, the ancient Latin precursor of the stunning spell (exturbo) seemed to be more powerful, if the crater the jet of vermillion light left behind as it exited out of Harry's wand as he cast the spell was of any indication. And if Harry was right, it was more resistant to the rennervate counter charm, as opposed to the counter listed in the book (eruere ex ignaro).
The method of education was also different than that of Harry's time. Back then they learnt things the practical way. The noble families also kept up the traditions that were there in the erstwhile Roman Empire and this was seen in the small schools that they had established where they sent their children to learn along with other children of the same status. However, the "schools" in reality were travelling scholars who came to the home of one of the rich pure-bloods where all the children from the other families would congregate. The less rich and privileged would generally be allied to a noble family and the nobility would see to the basic education of those children.
As soon as Salazar turned sixteen, he was to be shipped off to one of the oldest universities in the western world that was located in Greece, where he would study about the theories surrounding magic as well as rhetoric. Salazar however, wasn't too sure about it though.
Harry brought himself back to the present as he saw Daphne waiting for him by the front doors near the queue of students heading off to Hogsmeade. The Arithmancy and Ancient Runes classes had been cancelled for the day, meaning that Harry could go to Hogsmeade in the morning as opposed to later in the day.
'Daphne,' Harry said politely, slightly inclining his head 'You look lovely today.'
'Thank you Harry,' replied Daphne with equal politeness. 'You too, look well.'
Harry smiled and offered her a few of the daffodils from the valley. He had taken his broom and had gone down to the dale on a clear and surprisingly sunny Sunday. From up close, the small stone structure that he had observed at a distance proved to be a moderately large cottage. At least Harry guessed it used to be a cottage. There was nothing left of the place but loose slabs of stone which were barely recognisable and a wall weathered by a thousand summers and winters. The untouched beauty of the place was very overwhelming, and the silence peaceful.
'An interesting gift, Harry, I like the symbolism,' said Daphne, sounding faintly amused and a trifle surprised as they joined the queue behind the other students being checked for dark objects by Filch. Harry thought he heard Ron grumble loudly about Filch being stupid enough to want to check for objects being smuggled out of the school as opposed to into the school.
Harry was initially confused with Daphne's words. However a casual Legilimency probe across the surface of her thoughts, barely grazing her developing mental shields told him what she was talking about, saving him from having to admit his ignorance.
'Well, I felt it appropriate for our first date, considering that we barely know each other.' He said smoothly. 'Besides, it is the best I could find that was fresh. I don't think you'd appreciate flowers under preservation charms. I think those are too impersonal.' They barely noticed Ron's yelps as Filch took care to prod him a bit harder than normal.
'I didn't know there was a place where one could find winter daffodils here,' Daphne sounded slightly suspicious.
'Oh, I know of a place,' said Harry offhandedly.
'Really,' her tone rapidly changed to that of carefully controlled intrigue.
'Yes ... it's in a truly beautiful place. A place I can tell you with certainty that no one in the entire school, and that includes the headmaster I daresay, knows about,' said Harry mysteriously. Any further conversation was halted as they both were scanned by Filch for dark objects. Harry wondered why anybody would want to be smuggling objects out of the school, but felt that Filch or the teachers may have had a good reason for checking. Though, Harry did have a suspicion that Filch liked to prod students with his sensor as it gave him sadistic pleasure.
'I would very much like to see this place,' remarked Daphne casually as they set off through the grounds and towards the front gates out into Hogsmeade.
'It's a date then,' replied Harry with a smirk. 'Weather and time permitting of course,' he added indicating the overcast sky. The weather had gotten worse by now.
Daphne hummed in response, 'I think before the summer holidays, and just after the last of our exams would be a good idea.'
'June it is then,' said Harry winningly as they entered the village.
By the time they had reached the front gates, the wind had picked up speed, bringing sleet with it. The young couple had to struggle their way to Honeydukes. Once they entered the shop, Daphne cast a charm on her head which immediately rearranged her windblown hair back to the way she had styled it, thanking Harry as he cast a warming charm over her first, doing the same for himself immediately afterwards.
Harry knew from Daphne's sister that both girls had quite a sweet tooth. Astoria had mentioned once that she used to sneak some chocolates from Daphne's private stash, and had done so regularly till her older sister had caught her in the act and hexed her to next week and back.
Harry thought of the difference between the sisters as he watched Daphne pick out a few bars of her favourite dark chocolates with orange flavouring. While both sisters were initially cold and aloof, with heavy doses of sarcasm in their speech, Daphne was the silent and introverted one, taking a long time to get to know a person while Astoria was a bit more extroverted and warmed up to a person quite well after they got to know her. Despite the rather frosty front the younger girl had put in the first few classes, Astoria had warmed up to Harry quite considerably by the third class. Not that she had stopped on the acerbic comments. Then again, Harry wasn't incapable of returning fire. Besides, irritating her was a lot of fun! She looked rather pretty when she gave him those annoyed looks or when she scrunched up her face in disapproval.
Daphne on the other hand had her own charm. While she was rarely one to speak, and she did not like to socialise much, when she did say something it was well thought out. She also had quite a twisted sense of humour which was rather dark at times.
In fact, Harry had only gone to one of Slughorn's parties with his future wife. Something that Slughorn had commented on when they met him in Honeydukes. The other subsequent parties were with some other girls he had decided to take a fancy to for the evening. Out of them the most memorable one was with Astoria. He might consider taking her again.
Their shopping done, and with three bags between the two of them, Harry and Daphne headed for the Three Broomsticks. Once outside, Harry swished his wand and thought scutum contra ventum in his head. Immediately a transparent shield sprung up in front of the couple lowering the stinging of the strong wind and sleet, reducing it to a mild, albeit cold and wet breeze.
'Impressive,' said Daphne as she saw the shield come into effect. Harry just shrugged and said that it was something he had read a while back. That spell was found in Slytherin's journal and protected the caster from the weather to a degree. Harry wasn't sure if there was a modern version to the spell, but he was rather happy with the current version that he knew, even if it was rather wordy.
While the shield did help with the visibility a bit, their view of the front was distorted as the wind kept blowing against the shield Harry had put up. So it was only when they were within a few feet of the men that Harry recognised Mundungus and the barman of the Hogs Head standing just outside the Three Broomsticks.
'Mundungus!' Harry called out as soon as he was within hearing distance. He noticed the tall thin barman had gone back to the direction of his pub.
The squat, bandy-legged man with long, straggly, ginger hair jumped and dropped an ancient suitcase, which burst open, releas ing what looked like the entire contents of a junk shop window.
'Oh, 'ello, 'Arry,' said Mundungus Fletcher, with a most unconvincing stab at airiness. 'Well, don't let me keep ya.'
And he began scrabbling on the ground to retrieve the contents of his suitcase with every appearance of a man eager to be gone.
'Are you selling this stuff?' asked Harry watching Mundungus grab an assortment of grubby-looking objects from the ground.
'Oh, well, gotta scrape a living,' said Mundungus. 'Gimme that!'
He reached out to snatch a goblet from Daphne who had by that time picked up a goblet with a rather familiar crest on it that had come flying out of Mundungus's case and was lying on the street.
Mundungus never had a chance to get his hands on the goblet as he almost immediately found himself pinned against the wall of the pub, his eyes looking into the twin emerald flames that were Harry's eyes and his throat being held in the steely grip of Harry's hand.
'You took that from Sirius's house,' said Harry, in a dangerous voice, almost nose to nose with Mundungus. He ignored the unpleasant smell of old tobacco and spirits that he got from the petty thief. 'That had the Black family crest on it.'
'I — no — what —?' spluttered Mundungus, who was slowly turning purple. He could barely speak as Harry's grip was too tight. In a dim corner of his mind, Mundungus vaguely wondered how such a skinny lad could be so strong.
'You dare, you dare steal from the house of Black? From MY house? From ME' snarled Harry, his features contorted in cold fury, looking every inch the aristocrat as his grip on Mundungus' neck tightened. His wand, held in his left hand and jammed into the thief's face began to slowly burn his jaw. While the mad glint in Harry's eyes wasn't as intense, it was pretty close to the one Bellatrix had in her eyes.
'I — no —'
'Give it to me!'
'Harry, you mustn't!' shrieked Hermione, appearing out of nowhere, as Mundungus started to turn blue.
The sudden intrusion broke Harry's concentration for just a millisecond. It was enough for Mundungus.
There was a bang, and Harry felt his hands fly off Mundungus's throat. Gasping and spluttering, Mundungus seized his fallen case, then — CRACK — he Disapparated.
Harry swore at the top of his voice, spinning on the spot to see where Mundungus had gone while cursing himself for losing concentration.
'It's no point shouting in the middle of the street Harry. He'll be in London by now,' said a woman with mousy brown hair and inconspicuous clothes who had practically appeared out of nowhere.
Harry slowly regained control of his emotions as he noticed that he had people watching him. His eyes still burning with a cold fury, he addressed the woman in a neutral tone while making sure not to mask his curiosity in order to offset the anger which would otherwise have coloured his voice, 'What are you doing here Tonks?' while her disguise was good, Harry could still tell that it was his cousin of sorts. He still had to get his head around the whole relations thing.
'I've been stationed around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts as a part of protective duty,' said Tonks brightly.
'Is that so?' said Harry calculatingly. 'In that case, Auror Tonks, I would like to make a formal complaint against one Mundungus Fletcher for thievery from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.' Harry used the formal tones as had been described to him in the family books he had read over the summer. He did not know of all his duties or all the societal niceties a man of his stature was expected to know, so he relied on what he had observed of Lucius Malfoy, relying on his Occlumency to help with the image he was presenting.
Tonks immediately straightened up and in formal tones replied, 'Very well, Lord Black. I shall file a report immediately. An Auror will be by shortly to question you on the details of the case at your earliest convenience regarding the items stolen.'
'That is acceptable,' said Harry imperiously. Tonks nodded to the head of her maternal family once and Disapparated.
'Harry, why did she call you "Lord Black"?' Hermione decided to remind Harry of her presence at that point.
Daphne was the only person who saw the small twitch in Harry's right eye before he got himself in control as he rounded on the mudblood who had distracted her future husband with her self-righteous moaning. She was pretty impressed with the control he displayed. It seemed that the stories perpetuated around Slytherin house over the past few years were quite unfounded. This was no brash Gryffindor.
Unmindful of Daphne's thoughts, Harry gave Hermione a look a few degrees colder than the weather as he said in clipped tones, 'That is none of your business, Hermione.' he sort of blamed the girl for her intrusion. If she hadn't shouted so shrilly, he would have all his stuff back and it wouldn't be with that filthy thief. He was also furious with Dumbledore for not being able to control the members of his organisation.
Not giving the spluttering girl a chance to regain her senses, Harry gave a short nod to a very confused Ron who was standing next to Hermione in greeting, which Ron in his confusion, returned automatically, before sweeping around and with a complete change in expression, politely held out his arm towards Daphne Greengrass and upon her taking it, walked towards the Three Broomsticks, getting out of the cold.
By the time he had entered the pub, Harry's stormy expression was completely transformed into one of a person having a good day in the village. 'Not bad, Harry, you handled yourself quite well,' said Daphne into his ear softly, clearly impressed with the way Harry had handled himself. 'Father will be impressed.'
Harry just gave her a crooked smile and with a flourish, guided her through the warm and crowded pub. Escorting Daphne to a miraculously free table set in a corner, he went to the bar to get food and drinks for the both of them.
Sidling up to the bar, Harry expertly got around a couple of third year girls by flashing them a smile and a wink making them blush. Getting to the front, he gave Madame Rosmerta, the barkeep of the pub, a winning smile as she turned to take his order.
'Well, look what the kneazle dragged in,' exclaimed Rosmerta theatrically as she recognised Harry. 'Little Harry Potter. My you've grown up!' she looked at what she could see of him up and down. Unknown to Harry, Rosmerta's sharp eyes, honed from years of being able to spot trouble from rowdy customers even before they did anything, had caught sight of the ring on his left ring finger. The formal exchange Harry had earlier with Tonks had removed the concealment charms on the rings. Immediately recognising the Potter family crest, Rosmerta decided to show him a bit more attention than the other customers. He was a hormonal teenage male after all, and rich to boot. The fact that he was positively scrumptious only served to add to the fun. Sure the other boys were cute in that innocent schoolboy way, but they didn't look as lovely as the specimen in front of her.
Harry blushed slightly. Many a Hogwarts boy (including him) nursed a secret crush on the rather busty barmaid. However, she rarely initiated a conversation with them, electing to passively flirt with the lads, feeding on their egos so that she could get extra sales. Harry was sure that he was one of few exceptions. The looks he was getting from the boys crowded around him proved that.
Quickly taking it in stride, Harry cleared his throat and ordered in his most mature voice, 'I'll have a plate of the house special and a medium rare steak for my date. And a Butterbeer for her as well...' Gulping heavily at the view that she had progressively presented him with as he spoke to her, he finished with a slightly high pitched 'that's it,' before heading towards Daphne sharpish. In his haste, he forgot to order a drink for himself. Something that Rosmerta had noticed.
On his way back, Harry greeted his friends and acquaintances. He also took care to greet those whom he didn't know personally, but had hailed him nonetheless, by name, lifting that bit of information directly from their unsuspecting minds.
Sitting down at the table, he just then noticed Hermione searching for someone or something with a glint of determination in her eyes. Having a good idea what this was about, Harry quickly ducked down and looked into Daphne's eyes, engaging her in conversation and acting natural. The table he had taken was well out of view and would require careful searching on Hermione's part to find.
Madame Rosmerta then came up to their table with their order levitating behind her. 'One plate of our special for the day, and a cut of our finest beef, medium rare,' she floated the plates over to their respective places.
Harry just realised that he hadn't ordered a drink when Rosmerta placed a Butterbeer in front of Daphne. Just as he was about to open his mouth, he noticed the empty glass and bottle of mead next to Rosmerta.
Madame Rosmerta turned to Harry and said, 'I had just opened a bottle of our finest house mead, and was wondering, milord, if you wanted to have a glass of it?' she indicated the mead floating next to her.
'Sure,'
Madame Rosmerta smiled and poured a glass for Harry. It was fortunate that the young lord had forgotten to order a drink for himself. It allowed her to suggest something of a higher quality. Besides, what sixteen-year old would refuse alcohol when offered it? The best bit was she wasn't doing anything illegal since being the head of an Ancient and Noble house gave the boy the privilege of being able to drink something a bit stronger. Not that she planned on giving him anything stronger. She wasn't that bad. Unlike a certain barman who ran a certain shady pub down the road.
As the barmaid left swinging her hips provocatively, something she said finally registered with Harry. Looking down on his hands, he noticed that the concealment charms on all three of his rings had lifted making the stones glitter in the light of the well lit pub. Hastily concealing them again, he wondered aloud, 'Why did the rings show up all of a sudden?'
'That would be because you talked to that Auror, Tonks was it? In a formal tone ... you should have known that,' said Daphne. Harry cursed softly, 'Damn ... it's a good thing that only Tonks and Rosmerta saw that then. I don't know what would have happened if Hermione and Ron had seen them.' he breathed.
Daphne shook her head pityingly, 'and to think that I was getting pretty impressed with you and the way you handled yourself so far ... You still have a long way to go.' The humour in her eyes gave away the fact that she was teasing him.
'Wench,' replied Harry good naturedly. He took a sip of the mead; it was nothing like he had tasted before. It was rather smooth, with a hint of spice. Not like the bitter taste of vodka and rum that he had experience with. 'At least I'm getting there.' he said good-naturedly.
'True, but why do you want to hide your status?' asked Daphne curiously.
'I don't want certain people to know. Like Dumbledore for example, until I am seventeen at least.' replied Harry. 'I don't exactly trust him.' He said cautiously.
'Now I am even more impressed,' said Daphne. 'I twigged you as the Dumbledore supporter type. Father always said that you shouldn't trust a person who has been in politics for so long. Especially when that person keeps telling people he's not interested in running for Minister. And Dumbledore has been at the game for quite a while now, almost a century I think.'
'Mr. Greengrass makes a fair point.' Harry took another sip of his mead, enjoying the taste again, before attacking his food.
They were halfway through their meal, Harry trading a few bites of his stovies for some of Daphne's steak when Hermione finally found them.
'Harry! There you are! I've been looking all over for you ... do you mind if we join you?' asked Hermione in one breath as she and Ron came up to the table. Harry sighed in resignation. He supposed that it was inevitable that Hermione would have found him, even if it was in a crowded pub. He braced himself for the potential scene this would make when he started the unenviable task of telling his best friend to bugger off as politely as possible when Daphne asserted her presence.
'If you don't mind, Granger, the two of us are on a date. Surely you can understand that and appreciate our need for privacy?' she cut in icily. 'Or is that a foreign concept to you?' she sneered. Despite being seated, she still managed to look down her nose at Hermione. Daphne was quite incensed at being so casually dismissed by that arrogant little strumpet. Who did she think she was?
As the two girls gave each other death glares, with Ron's ears starting to turn red at the insult to Hermione as he geared himself up to defend her honour, loudly, Harry frantically thought of a way to diffuse the situation before he was told to take a side, or before Ron decided to explode, creating a scene so big that it would silence the entire pub very shortly. Spotting Katie among the crowd of patrons, he got an idea. Getting her attention he called out clearly, 'Hey, Katie, how's tricks?'
The Gryffindor Chaser, who looked to be on her way to the loo gave Harry a smile and replied with an 'I'm great Harry, and you?' as she approached the table, allowing the girl behind her to overtake her.
Harry stood up and spoke to her for a minute before Katie excused herself. Sitting down, Harry smirked at the success of the plan. His greeting had served to remind Hermione that she was in a public place, making her leave shortly, probably tugging Ron along the way, preventing a potential scene and getting them all thrown out of the pub.
Daphne then spent the next five minutes calling Hermione Granger many creative names and making her opinion on Harry's best friends' manners known very clearly. While Daphne did not rant, and she certainly spoke softly, the vitriol in her words wasn't in the least bit diluted. Harry, not having seen this side of her was completely thrown off balance for a moment. Eventually after some cajoling by Harry and a dessert of chocolate mousse supplied by a rather attentive Madame Rosmerta, she calmed down.
Paying the bill and leaving a hefty tip as gratitude, Harry left with Daphne for Hogwarts. The date had gone so-so in Harry's opinion as he watched Daphne head off towards the Slytherin dorms. He clutched the goblet with the Black family crest that she had picked up which Mundungus had not been able to snatch and handed to him. It certainly wasn't a stellar romantic date of all dates. But on the bright side, it wasn't dismal either. Happily twirling the goblet in his hands, Harry left for the dorms, idly wondering why he hadn't found a single teacher on his way there.