No O.W.L.'s

Kay entered the central hall and spotted the slim blonde woman, obviously too old to be a student, but not old enough to be a parent. "Hi, I'm Kay Potter. My prefect said you wanted to talk to me?"

The woman nodded and extended a hand. "Roberta Skeeter. I work for the The Quibbler, and we'd love to do a story about you: the Hero of Hogwarts School!"

Kay blinked, and took a step backwards. "I'm not sure I want to do this...that's not who I am."

"Then tell me who you really are, and I'll write about that." The woman stopped, raised a hand, closed her eyes, took a breath, and then started again. "Okay, I'm sorry. Sometimes I get carried away. First of all, let me explain something before we go any further: I did a story about your Mum a few years back. Maybe she told you about it?"

"That was you?" Kay smiled. "Sure! She framed the interview and hung it on the wall of her dressing room. It was pretty good!"

"Anyway, I heard about what happened at Hogwarts, and after talking to both your parents and the Headmistress, it occurred to me that the best thing would be for the world to hear from you directly. You could tell everybody your side of the story, and put to rest all the rumors surrounding you. Also, whether you know it or not, you're attracting quite a bit of attention; a Squib in a magical school, but lucky enough to dodge the Killing Curse, and defeat a Dark wizard, twice!"

Kay blushed at that. "I'd hardly call Marcus Goyle a Dark wizard. As for my self-defense skills, I'm only an orange belt and that's not very high up. I've been lucky that no one at Hogwarts had any skills better than me, and that's not saying much."

"Well, our readers would like to know more about you, and if you'll talk with me, maybe we can set the record straight."

Kay thought about that, and found that she liked the logic of it. Already, at Hogwarts, she'd had to deny a rumor that her first kick on Goyle at the train station had split his chest in half, and a couple of hobgoblins had come out of his broken body like chickens from an egg! "Okay."

Roberta led the way towards the Great Hall, where Kay spotted her parents, sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor tables. "They said they wanted to be nearby," Roberta explained, "in case you needed them, but they won't interfere. This is your moment to speak."

Kay waved, and then sat down on the bench, facing the reporter. She nervously drew one leg up in front of her.

Roberta waved her wand and created a silver tea service. She poured filled two cups, and then got her Quick Quotes Quill ready.

"What do you want to know?" Kay asked.

"Well, how did you find out you were a Squib?"

Kay sighed. "I'm not exactly a Squib, that's a common mistake that people make. I'm a low-level witch."

"Can you explain that a bit more? Tell me what happened?"

"What happened was that I was doing very badly here at Hogwarts last year. My Transfiguration spells were weak, and I finished in the bottom of my Charms courses. I understood the lessons well enough, but my spells just never seemed to work properly. Sometimes nothing happened at all! By the end of my third year, Professor Merrythought wanted to hold me back, but I spoke to her. I showed her my essays, my test scores, and in the end she admitted that I was perfectly clear about the concepts of magic, but for some reason my performance in the practical exams was never any good. So, she recommended to me and to my parents that I have an Essence Test done."

The Quick Quotes Quill was flying over the page, but Roberta Skeeter ignored it and looked at her subject, nodding slightly. Her eyes were on Kay, and were very inquisitive. "What is exactly is an Essence Test? I've never heard of it before."

Kay made a face and nodded. "Not many people have. Basically, it's a test of your magical capabilities. The way the healers at St. Mungo's explained it to me, every witch or wizard has an affinity for magic. As we learn to use it, our ability or perception or whatever gets stronger, and we're able to channel more magic, which is how your power grows; in addition to learning more complicated spells. But some people's affinity never develops at all, or it gets stunted at an early age. The test sends currents of magic through the body, gradually getting more intense; it sort of feels like a jolt of static electricity, except it goes on and on. Those who don't have the affinity don't feel anything, no matter how intense the power gets. I felt it at the beginning, but after the first few pulses--nothing! So, I'm not really a true Squib. I can do some kinds of magic, even low-level charms, but nothing very strong. Basically, I'm stuck at second year magic, probably for the rest of my life."

Roberta Skeeter nodded, and looked sympathetic. "That must have been very hard on you. Especially given your parent's reputations."

Kay nodded, lowered her head, and looked sad. "I cried a lot. I felt as though I didn't belong anywhere. For a while there, I even wanted to die! But my Mum and Dad, and my brothers and sisters, they talked me out of it. My Mum pointed out to me that I didn't have be a spell-casting witch to do certain things in the wizarding world; like Potions or Herbology, for example. My Dad told me something else, I've got a perception that few other wizards do--I can live in both worlds with ease."

Roberta Skeeter looked interested. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I can see magic, and I can see the Muggle world, too, and I know how to live in both of them. Sometimes my parents takes me to Muggle cinemas, or we go shopping, and we compare the fashions to what wizards think that Muggles wear, and they're hopelessly wrong! Wizards end up wearing Muggle women's clothes, or witches put on fashions that are decades out of date! Eventually, I'm hoping to go to work at the Ministry of Magic, and rework the manuals issued to wizards and witches about how to pass for Muggles."

Roberta Skeeter nodded, beginning to understand Kay's perspective. "An interesting career choice."

Kay smiled, but said nothing. It sounded good, she thought, even if it was a cover story.

"You say your family supported you through this period?" Kay nodded, and Roberta looked at her closely. "Everyone? Isn't it true that you have a sister in Slytherin?"

"Morgan? Yeah, so?"

"Well, I've always heard that Slytherins and Gryffindors despise each other on principle."

"We're rivals for the House Cup, sure, but that doesn't mean Morgan and I do not love each other. After Goyle was sent off to Azkaban, Morgan came back to check and see if I was okay, just like everybody else in the family! Two days later she was appointed a Slytherin Prefect, and she's working hard to make sure Slytherin House regains its lost glory, and I'll help her any way I can." Kay saw Roberta's eyebrows rise an inch, so she added, "She's a Prefect at the age of twelve, and she needs help. A girl's best friend is her sister, after all! "

Roberta nodded. "My apologies. I guess I was misinformed."

Kay shrugged. "I guess you were."

"Still, Marcus Goyle was a Slytherin, and the frictions between your two houses are the stuff of legends! Do you think that this motivated him in any way?"

Kay thought about how to answer that, without stepping on her sister's toes. Finally, she saw a way. "Probably, but only a moron would let that kind of hate destroy his reason; and only somebody like Goyle would do what he did. I mean, look at him now! He's going to spend the rest of his life in prison. He'll never finish school, never date a girl, never play Quidditch again--and he was the Slytherin Keeper!"

"But why did he attack you in the first place?"

Kay sighed. "Back during the skirmishes in the aftermath of the Second Voldemort war, about a year after I was born, our fathers got into a magical battle at the Giant's Causeway in Ireland. Goyle's father was part of a remaining group of Death Eaters trying to summon the Primordial Giants back to Earth. I guess they hoped the giants would run amok, and they could pick up the pieces afterward. During the fighting, Mr. Goyle got turned into a statue by my Dad. This was after Mr. Goyle had performed that Dark Magic curse on Colonel Seamus Finnigan; the thing that everybody always talks about?"

Roberta Skeeter nodded, shivering.

"Anyway, his son, Marcus Goyle, always felt that spell was a rotten trick on my Dad's part, and tried to get revenge on him through me. He even claimed that he could still hear his father talking to him in his sleep, feeding him all kinds of secret information and instructions. Personally, I think that's proof that Goyle was crazy! Considering he tried a Killing Curse on me in the middle of the school hallways, I'd say that's pretty good evidence that I'm right."

"Perhaps so," Roberta Skeeter said, absently brushing a of lock her dirty-blonde hair out of her eyes. "He must have thought you were going to be easy to push around, then?"

"Well, that's what he did for the first few years I was at school. The staff kept punishing him for picking on me, and my friends stuck by me. This year, though, I was able to take care of him on my own."

"You beat him off twice, from what's been said?"

Kay nodded. "Then he tried to kill me. Fortunately, his spell misfired."

"You say Marcus Goyle's Killing Curse misfired? According to several witnesses, nothing happened at all. Why, do you think?"

She'd been waiting for that question, and had an answer ready. "I haven't the slightest idea; I was just shocked that he'd try something on me in the middle of school. I was barely even aware he'd tried Avada Kedavra until Professor Slughorn told me."

Roberta Skeeter's eyes were intent. "So you were just lucky, then?"

"I guess so," Kay lied, spreading her hands, the picture of bewilderment. "I can't think of any other reason why I survived." She knew perfectly well why the Killing Curse hadn't worked; Goyle had been robbed of his magical powers thanks to her own secret one, but no one was to know that. As a Class-1 Resource to the Ministry of Magic, Kay was keeping her true nature a strict secret.

Roberta Skeeter nodded. "Now, will you tell me, how does your fighting style figure into this?"

"Well, if I can't defend myself against a wizard with my wand, I need to be able to do something!" She explained her classes, and how it had figured in defeating Marcus Goyle. "You should have seen the look on his face when I kicked him down after his first curse failed at the train station! I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head he was so surprised!"

"How are you able to continue your Karate lessons during school? Surely Hogwarts doesn't let a Muggle in here to teach you?"

Kay shook her head. "No, twice a week I use a Portkey to travel to my sensei's dojo, and take my lessons there. Then I come back to school the same way. It works wonderfully. This way I can continue to learn on both fronts."

"Could you demonstrate a bit for me?"

Kay showed a few of her moves, and talked about how her martial arts lessons worked. As she demonstrated a block, she noticed a crowd of students at the far side of the room. A few were openly amused, but most of them were just watching her talk to the reporter.

Despite the demonstrations, Roberta Skeeter, like most wizards, seemed a bit puzzled that something could work well without magic. So, she moved their conversation back toward things that would be more familiar to her readers.

"So, how do your classmates react to having you around? Do they still like you?"

"Well, after Goyle was removed, and after word got around that I'd beaten him twice this year, most people have stopped picking on me. I still get an occasional howler, but they're always anonymous, and I just throw them in the fire." She brushed back a lock of her reddish-blonde hair. "All of my friends are really supportive, and," she grinned, "nobody laughs at straight O's."

"So you're still studying hard, then?"

"Sure!" Kay exclaimed. "If I want to work at the Ministry of Magic someday, I have to get good grades."

"But your father is the Minister," said Roberta Skeeter, playing Devil's Advocate. "He could just hire you anyway."

Kay was indignant. "I'm not going to ask him for a handout! I have to earn my position, just like anybody else." Then she realized what the reporter had done, and nodded her thanks.

"What about your Mum? Do you think she wants you doing all this? Isn't it a bit dangerous?"

Kay nodded. "Well, my Mum was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and later, she worked on the front lines as a healer under combat conditions. So she can't say she never did anything dangerous herself. But she's glad I'm still a part of the wizarding world, and she's told me that as long as I do my best, she'll support me."

"What about this Special Award that the Headmistress is planning on presenting to you? What is it for?"

"The Headmistress says that I'm an inspiration to the rest of the school," Kay explained, shrugging. "Maybe I am, but I've never felt that way. It's hard enough being surrounded by witches and wizards who are getting stronger everyday while I'm still stuck doing low-level magic."

"So, how are you an inspiration, then?"

Kay shrugged again. "Well, I have to try harder, don't I? I mean I'm a 'special student', which means I have to work for all my own classes with more effort. I can't..." she stopped for a moment, and then started again. "I don't have the luxury of pulling out my wand for the really tough stuff. I have to work harder and put in more time to stay on the same level as everyone else. So...I guess that is kind of inspiring. I mean it wasn't so long ago that Squibs were thrown out of Hogwarts right away. People thought they didn't belong in the school at all. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, is a Squib. He spends his time mopping floors and cleaning up after magical folk, and I think he hates them all on sight because of it.

"Not me, though! I'm not going to settle for second best! If the wizarding world says I'm not good enough, I'll prove them wrong." Kay's hazel eyes flashed with determination.

Roberta Skeeter nodded. "That is inspiring."

There was a moment of silence, as Kay blushed to roots of her hair.

"Change of subject: How about the boys at Hogwarts? Do they resent you being here? After all, you don't have to do the more strenuous classes, no Charms homework, and no teacher marks you down for a poorly performed spell."

"A few, but nobody's totally popular!"

"And this--" she consulted her notes, "Corwin Creevey? The boy who was with you when you were ambushed outside of Hogsmeade? Do you still see much of him?"

Kay flushed again. "Yes, we're still close."

"How does he feel about your skill in Karate? I understand you disabled three Slytherins, and he only disarmed one."

"Actually, Corwin's started learning from me after the Hogsmeade ambush. And, when Corwin talked about it with his friends, people started asking if they could watch me practice Karate, and then a few people wanted to learn. I've actually started teaching what I've learned of martial arts so far. I've not even finished mastering the art myself, and I'm already teaching it to others!"

"Well, that's quite daunting, considering you haven't finished learning yourself!" Roberta Skeeter smiled at Kay, and the younger girl blushed for the third time in less than five minutes.

"I guess. I'm actually a little embarrassed about it."

Roberta Skeeter started counting off on her fingers. "So, you're a 'low-level' witch, a martial arts student, a teacher of the same, a reputed inspiration to your fellow classmates, an Outstanding student in theoretical work, and a Hogwarts fourth year who's slated to receive an award for Special Services to the school! You've amassed quite a reputation, Miss Potter. Do you have any advice for other Squibs or low-level witches like yourself, or for others in the wizarding world?"

Kay thought for a moment, and said, "Never give up. Even when things look really bad, or you think you're not going to make it, try again. Even when you think you haven't got a chance, fight!"

Roberta Skeeter cleared her throat, "Now, before we take any pictures, do you think your sister Morgan would be willing to join us? A lot of our readers believe that the two of you are mortal enemies. A picture of the two of you standing together might dissuade them."

"Good idea," said Kay, and called a first year Slytherin boy over, and gave him a note to carry to Slytherin House.

A few minutes later, the boy was back, with news that Morgan was away from Hogwarts on a special assignment for her Head of House and wouldn't return until later that evening.

"Curious," said Roberta. "Do you know what that's about?"

Kay shook her head and grinned, "No idea. But, if she's on an assignment for Professor Slughorn, it's probably something to do with her Prefect work for Slytherin House. Obviously a Gryffindor like me wouldn't be told. Also, I don't share all the Gryffindor things I do, either."

Roberta Skeeter took several pictures, including several of Kay in her gi, posing in several offensive or defensive postures, and then one of her standing in front of her parents, Harry and Ginny Potter, and her youngest brother. The story was slated to run in the next issue of the The Quibbler under the headline, Magic is a Matter of Perspective.

As Roberta Skeeter and Ginny chatted, renewing their ties, Harry sat in the great hall with his daughter and son. "Take a good look around, Percy," Harry remarked, "this is where you'll be in about four years."

"Wow," Percy said, as the Bloody Baron passed through the room. "Can I see the rest of the school, Dad?"

Harry was about to answer when there was a cheerful "Hello", and Arthur Potter came into the room. "I heard about what was happening," he said, giving his father a friendly whack on the back.

"Arthur!" Percy shouted and wrapped his hands around his brother's legs. "Will you show me the school? All they want to do is talk, talk, talk!"

Harry sent his son a pleading look, and Arthur said, "Sure! C'mon!" The two boys ran out of the room. Harry watched them fondly, and then turned back to Kay, absently rubbing his back. "Arthur is getting very strong. He knocked the wind out of me without even trying."

Kay smiled and nodded, "He's starting to remind me of Uncle Charlie."

"Good comparison," Harry remarked, nodding. "The same stocky build, and definitely the same muscles."

Harry sipped at a cup of tea and smiled ruefully, "The family is growing up; my second-to-last daughter has just had her first interview with the press. It's too bad Morgan isn't here. She would have looked good standing beside you in that picture."

"Yeah," Kay agreed. "I wonder where she is?"

"Oh," said Harry, smiling slightly, "did I forget to tell you...?"

**

The house was a gray specter rising out of the Scottish fog; constructed of granite and whitewashed timber it was nearly invisible, even without the unplottable enchantments cast upon it by its owners. Morgan Potter had been able to find it only by virtue of invitation from the owner. She glanced around, and rang the bell.

After a moment, a thin, black-haired woman who could have passed for a vampire--she was so pale--opened the door. Her blood-red lips were so surprising that Morgan could barely contain her revulsion.

"Yes?" the woman inquired, looking at Morgan with surprise.

Morgan wordlessly handed her the parchment her father had given her. The dark-haired woman looked at it, and then silently waved her inside. "My husband is expecting you," she said in a silky whisper.

The room was still and silent; books covered up most of the walls, although here and there were a few pictures of landscapes. Unlike her own family home, there were no pictures of people; no friends waving from behind glass, no relatives offering advice or good wishes. Moreover, the window shades were almost all drawn, while old-fashioned oil lamps that were either hanging from the ceiling or sitting on end tables throughout the house throwing yellow light here and there like beacons on a dark moor. Morgan followed the tall woman at a respectful distance, glancing this way and that, trying to make the most of the limited audience she'd been granted.

"She's here," said the woman as she crossed an arched threshold.

"Morgan Potter," said a voice, as the young Slytherin walked into a chilly sitting area.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, sir," Morgan said, bowing her head and curtseying respectfully to the man who sat on a divan at the far end of the room.

"Frankly, I would have consented even if your father hadn't pleaded so eloquently. To think that the illustrious Harry Potter should have a daughter Sorted into Slytherin House; that alone makes you a figure of great interest to me."

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Morgan said.

Severus Snape hadn't changed much from her father's days in school, except there was more gray hair on his head. His eyes were still dark, fathomless pools, and he dressed like an undertaker. There was, however, a silent pain in his face, which his demeanor could not quite hide. Morgan thought he was a man who spent many nights pacing in his quarters and staring out at the empty moors where he chose to make his home. She wondered how his wife could stand it. There wasn't another occupied house or even a village for miles in any direction--the two of them were literally exiles.

"Well, come, sit here and tell me what brings you to the hinterlands of the wizarding world. Violet," he said to his silent, brooding wife, "would you be so kind as to have the house-elves bring up some tea and refreshments? Doubtless Miss Potter is hungry after such a long trip."

Morgan reached into her bag and pulled out some rolls of parchment. "As my father explained, I'm doing some research on the founding of Slytherin House; Professor Slughorn and I discovered a discrepancy between popular opinion and the actual intent of Salazar Slytherin."

Professor Snape took the papers, but set them down on a table beside him and looked intently at Morgan. "Tell me, how did your parents react when the Sorting Hat put you in Slytherin?"

"Not well," she said, returning his stare. "I talked with Professor Slughorn about what it meant to be in Slytherin, and he convinced me that it was reserved for those of great ambition. My Mum and Dad tried to overturn the Sorting, but the Headmistress asked me what I wanted. I decided to stay in Slytherin."

"Are you ambitious, Miss Potter?" Professor Snape's eyes were penetrating.

She stuck out her chin. "I'm a prefect in only my second year; the first one in Slytherin in two hundred years. I've also been given an award for Special Services to the School, the first since Tom Riddle, at such a young age."

Professor Snape flinched slightly at the name, but he nodded. "Congratulations. Still, it must have rankled your father to have one of his own children in Slytherin."

"At first, but my Mum and Dad respect my choice, and I'm getting top marks in all my subjects, including potions," she added the last, knowing that he had been the Potions Master at one time; she hoped it impressed him. From his slow nod, she decided she'd scored.

A house elf arrived with tea and crumpets, and Morgan accepted a cup of Earl Grey. It was very strong, but very good.

"So, you say you've come to consult me on a Slytherin matter?"

She nodded, indicating the parchment he'd set aside. "I discovered that the mission of intent in the founding of Slytherin was at odds with conventional wisdom among its members. I'm attempting to figure out exactly when the pure-blood credo was attached to Slytherin House. Most members of Slytherin were killed or exiled during the second war, yourself and Professor Slughorn being the most notable exceptions."

"Your father must have told you that I am not a pure-blood, however. I am a half-blood, like him."

Morgan nodded; trying not to hurry in her speech, for she'd been told that speed was not Professor Snape's style. "I know, sir. However, you are one of the few survivors of Slytherin from an early period, and a person who had contact with Voldemort, who espoused the pure-blood philosophy, even though he wasn't one himself."

Professor Snape sipped his tea, but looked at Morgan Potter with his piercing dark eyes. "What exactly is your question, Miss Potter?"

"Was the pure-blood credo stressed as being a requirement during your time in Slytherin, at Hogwarts? And if so, did anyone ever say how long it had been thus?"

Professor Snape nodded. "Yes, it was considered a requirement to be a Slytherin, but most of us knew then that it was a ludicrous thing. I surreptitiously investigated many of my fellow Slytherins, and found that more than half of them came from half-blood families." He reached over and pulled up Morgan's papers and read through them, stopping to focus on several paragraphs of Salazar Slytherin's declarations about the purpose of Slytherin House now and then. Eventually, he set them aside and sipped at his tea. "You've encountered the first coil of Slytherin's legacy, Miss Potter."

"First coil?"

Severus Snape smiled thinly, his aloof mask cracking ever so slightly. "Miss Potter, do you know why the totem animal representing Slytherin House is a snake?"

"I always thought it was because Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth."

Professor Snape shook his head. "Not entirely. It was also because Slytherin himself was a man of many secrets, and the snake is supposed to be privy to all secrets.

"Muggle doctors wear a figure on their lapel called a caduceus: it's a stick with a serpent, sometimes two, wound around it. According to legend, the serpent was able to pass through many layers of earth, and learn all the secrets buried there. The ancient healer Aesculpius spoke to the serpents to learn healing techniques. In a like fashion, as a Parselmouth, Salazar Slytherin was able to commune with snakes and learn everything they knew. Even Voldemort himself spoke of talking to snakes at a young age and learning much from them."

Morgan was fascinated. "But how did such a legend end up in the laps of Muggles? I thought they knew nothing about the wizarding world."

"An ancient Greek legend tells of how the god Hermes came upon two serpents engaged in mortal combat. When he placed his magical winged wand between them, they wrapped themselves around it, and were restored to harmony. These snakes and the staff portray the triple creative force that the philosophy of India calls Kundalini Shakti, or, universal life principle. These are Muggle terms, although the wizarding world has co-opted them for their own use." He smiled, still speaking in his husky whisper, "This is a fact which a pure-blood wizard or witch will never admit to: our two worlds are interconnected at a level deeper than most can conceive of; neither world can live without the other. Your father realized this when he started borrowing from the non-magical world for ideas and direction during the war. Voldemort had no such resource, which is another reason why he lost."

Morgan took a breath. "So you're saying that Salazar Slytherin chose the serpent as his symbol, because he had access to secrets that the other Hogwarts founders didn't? And that maybe those secrets were Muggle ones?"

"Possibly," Professor Snape said, refusing to commit himself. "Salazar Slytherin was a devious man, who had resources and powers which neither Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff nor Gryffindor ever had. Lord Voldemort himself believed that Slytherin was more powerful than the other three founders combined, although Slytherin never fought them directly."

"He could have, though. He could have established a school for pure-bloods and cut the other founders out of the equation."

Professor Snape shook his head. "Now you're falling into the trap like so many Slytherins do. If Salazar Slytherin was as clever as we believe, he must have known that the others would not limit themselves to pure-blood students. In which case, if purity were his goal, he would never have agreed to cooperate with the others at all. It is for this reason that I believe the pure-blood story to be a legend; a lie created by bigots to support their own hatred."

"Yes," Morgan said, tapping her papers, "that's what these papers indicate." Then she pulled another sheaf of parchment from her bag and handed it over. "That's my theory as well."

Professor Snape read her theory and nodded. "Yes, this tallies with my own findings. As I said, you have approached the first coil."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Consider a picture of a snake sitting in a pile of coils of its own body. You are an ant traveling on the snake, starting at the tail and trying to reach the head. You will pass over many coils and double back many times before you reach the head. But, if you are true to your task, you will eventually reach your destination."

Morgan pictured the scene, slowly nodding, "And you think there is an ending to my journey of understanding Slytherin?"

Snape helped himself to a crumpet. "Certainly, Miss Potter. It will end when you discover the final resting place of Salazar Slytherin. To date, no one has ever reported finding Slytherin's tomb. Presumably, that is where all his records and private papers are, as well as his fortune. You know, of course, that Slytherin was the wealthiest of the four founders, don't you?"

"No, I didn't," Morgan said, her eyes widening.

Professor Snape nodded. "Oh, yes. Slytherin was the one who purchased the land for Hogwarts School."

"Blimey," she muttered. She was silent for a while, and then asked, "Professor, why do you think Slytherin really left Hogwarts School?"

Professor Snape was silent for several moments, considering his answer. "I believe it was an act designed to provoke a sense of outrage for those students who would follow in his footsteps. By portraying himself as the underdog, Slytherin became a figure of sympathy to many, a man who would not compromise on his principles. It also ensured that his students would inherit a measure of pride, which would set them apart from others, and ensure that they would work harder in order to be worthy of that mantle."

"Professor Slughorn and my Dad were right," she said in awe, "you are the man to talk to about Slytherin's history."

Professor Snape straightened a bit in his seat and assumed a look of lordly pride. "One does one's best."

The conversation continued for several hours, but at last Morgan realized she had to go. She had a long trip back waiting for her. As she said her goodbyes, Severus Snape offered one piece of advice. "The path you're taking to the head will be dangerous, Miss Potter. Just because your father escaped death many times does not guarantee you will do the same. Salazar Slytherin will have laid many traps and barriers in his wake. Your wisest course would be to choose a companion; someone strong and capable, skilled in areas that neither you nor Slytherin would think of."

Morgan nodded. "I know just the person!" she exclaimed.

**

Kay spotted Morgan sitting under a tree by the lake, her school bag lying next to her. There were no other students nearby, so she walked over and sat down beside her sister. "So, what's this 'secret business' you wanted to talk about?"

Morgan looked around to make sure they were alone, and then explained about her meeting with Professor Snape, and what she'd deduced so far about Salazar Slytherin. "I'm convinced that there are more clues around the school, and probably elsewhere, which explain what he was doing. It's like a treasure hunt, Kay. If I'm right, Slytherin never had a hang-up about pure-bloods at all! But, he had some other reason for leaving the school. I'm convinced of that!"

"Maybe," said Kay nodding, "but what's this got to do with me?"

"Everything! Marcus Goyle attacked you because he thought he was following in the footsteps of Salazar Slytherin. Voldemort tried to take power because he thought that being the heir to Slytherin entitled him to rule. But what if they were all wrong, right from the beginning? What if the whole thing's a...misinterpretation of Slytherin's legacy? If we could prove that, it might stop any future attacks from happening. Not just on you, but on all half-bloods and Muggle-borns. It would be the first step towards establishing peace between pure-bloods and half-bloods everywhere!"

"That's a tall order," Kay said, whistling appreciatively. "It sounds possible, I guess, but where are you going to look for evidence?"

"I thought about that, and then it hit me. Where's the one place where Slytherin kept something hidden, where no one else would look?"

"The Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yes! If we could get in there, we might find something else of his...some lost records or writings that he might have stowed there."

"Why do you think they're there?"

"It's the name, Kay! The Chamber of Secrets! Plural! If the basilisk was one of them, where are the others?"

Kay nodded slowly. "That sounds logical. But, don't you think Voldemort would have found the other secrets first?"

"Maybe, but I think he was so caught up in the idea of finding the monster that he never looked around the place properly." She saw her sister cock an eyebrow at her, and she nodded sadly. "Maybe not, but it's the best I can come up with, right now anyway."

"Which brings up another point, how do you plan to get in there? Dad was able to open it up because he's a Parselmouth. But you're not one, and neither am I."

Morgan licked her lips and then looked her sister in the eyes. "Yes, I am."

"WHAT?" Kay exclaimed.

"Please, don't yell!" She raised her hands in a placating gesture. Then her words came out in a rush, "I only found out last year, near the beginning of spring. I was sitting over there," she pointed toward a white boulder, "when a snake came out of a hole in the ground next to my left foot, and said he'd had a long sleep and he was glad it was warm again." Morgan looked around again to make sure they were alone. "I didn't tell Mum and Dad because I was afraid of what they might think. I figured they were still mad at me because I wanted to stay in Slytherin, and I thought they didn't trust me." She looked scared, and reached out and took her sister's hands. "Please, Kay! Don't tell anybody!"

"You're serious?" Kay asked, and then said, "I hate to say this, Morgan, but can you prove it? Nothing against you, but...Parselmouths are so rare, it's hard to believe you could be one when our Dad is one, too."

Morgan loosened one hand; reached into her school bag and pulled out a common grass snake. From her lips came a sibilant hissing sound, and the snake responded, bowing its head slightly. Girl and serpent chatted for a moment and then Morgan said, "Her name is Sythyllys, do you want to hold her?"

Kay didn't, but she knew, instinctively, that this was important to Morgan, so she nodded, and accepted the serpent.

The snake's skin was cool, and Kay had to resist the temptation to throw the snake away from her. She'd never liked reptiles, but she held on anyway. After a few minutes, she handed it back to Morgan, who continued to hiss at the serpent. Kay looked at the emblem on her sister's robes, and then watched as Morgan dropped the snake into the grass. It slithered away and was soon lost in the brush.

Morgan took Kay's hands again and looked at her. "This is really important to me, Kay. I had to tell somebody, and I just felt I could trust you to keep this secret for me. You've always been my best friend, my favorite sister!"

Kay held her sister's hands and slowly nodded. She bit her lip, and then decided to exchange a confidence. Dad would be angry, but this was a time when Morgan needed something to hang onto. "I'll keep your secret, Morgan. But in return, you have to keep one of mine."

"What secret?"

"Something so big, so terrible, that if Goyle had known, I'd be dead right now."

Morgan's face went white, and she gripped her sister's hands hard. "I promise never to tell anyone, Kay."

"Good, because this is really, really important." She took a deep breath, and then explained her exsanguinator nature.

Morgan cried out, one hand flew to her mouth and she stared at her sister. "So that's why Goyle couldn't kill you?" She looked around again, and then leaned in close, whispering, "You took all his magic away?"

"Uh-huh. If he'd known, he would have just poisoned me. That's also why Mum and Dad fixed it so I could keep coming here, instead of being expelled, or forced to go to a Muggle school. I do have magic, it's just...specialized."

"Well, this is great!" Morgan exclaimed, smiling. "I can get us into the Chamber of Secrets, and if there's some really bad magic still there, you can stop it."

"If there's another basilisk there, though, he'll just petrify us. I can't stop that," Kay said, shrugging.

"I don't think there is. Professor Snape said that after Dad killed it, Professor Dumbledore had a couple of professional dragon slayers go in and check out the chamber for any other creatures. He said they didn't find anything else."

"Well, that's something," Kay said. "But what about getting out again? Dad had Fawkes the phoenix."

"Brooms," Morgan said simply, "When we're finished we just fly out, and I'll seal the place back up again."

"You've thought of everything, it seems," Kay remarked, squeezing her sister's hands, and Morgan grinned at her. The two girls felt close, having exchanged confidences; the bond between them was that much stronger. Much like it had been when they'd teamed up to thwart their brother Arthur's itch-bombs at their slumber party the year before.

"So, when did you want to try to get into the Chamber of Secrets?" Kay asked.

"I was thinking maybe during the next Hogsmeade day? Most of the students will be gone, and we shouldn't have much of a problem being alone."

"I'll borrow the Marauder's Map from Arthur, so we can be sure to avoid people."

"Thanks. I don't think he'd give it to me," Morgan said.

"He doesn't actually dislike you, you know? It's the house rivalry thing. He's just competitive that way."

"Well, it didn't help when our Quidditch team got shuffled around after Goyle went to prison, and they named me Slytherin Seeker!"

"Speaking of which, don't you have practice today? Corwin was saying something about Gryffindor not getting the pitch because Slytherin had reserved it."

Morgan gave a squeak of surprise, glanced at her watch, and jumped up. "You're right, I have to run." She stopped and kissed her sister on the cheek. "Thanks, Kay. I knew I could count on you!"

"And I'm counting on you, too!"

Morgan nodded. "I promise," she said, smiling, and then ran off.

Kay watched her go, and then shuddered. "Parselmouth! Dad's going to freak when he hears that. But," she added under her breath, "he won't hear it from me."

**

When Kay got back the Gryffindor common room, it was deserted except for an envelope she found sitting on one of the tables. It was addressed to her. Inside was a letter written in an elegant hand:

Dear Kay,

Mum and Dad told me about the results of your Essence Test, and how you're restricted to low-level sorcery.

First, let me say how sorry I am for you. I know what it's like not to be fully appreciated for your own talents. Believe it or not, however, I think we can help each other.

I've been working secretly on formulating my own spells for some time, but hardly anyone has ever taken me seriously. I've tested them at every opportunity, and they seem to work quite well. I don't know what my own magical potential is, so I'm uncertain as to how good they really are. You, however, might be the perfect solution.

If you'll agree to help me, I will provide you with a multitude of first and second level spells for your own use, provided you tell no one where you got them. You may say you made them up yourself, if you wish, just don't mention me! Enclosed is a random sampling of some of my work. Use them at your discretion. When you're ready for more, just send me an owl.

I'm really excited about this. I think we'll work together splendidly.

Love, your brother,

Percival Cedric Potter.

Kay looked at the enclosed sheet. It was littered with carefully written spells with small notes about the meanings of each and every one. One attracted her attention immediately, as it was surrounded by stars and hearts and had a scrawl beside it, "For friends or parties!"

She frowned, pulled out her wand and gestured with it, "Xocoatl pyxos!" There was an incandescent flash, and a small red box appeared. She opened the box and found it was filled with broken chunks of chocolate. She took a tentative bite, and found it to be as good as something from Honeydukes.

"Blimey," she said, sitting on one of the sofas, relishing the heavenly taste in her mouth. "To think that my seven-year-old brother did this," she muttered. "Percy, you're right. We're going to get along splendidly!"