Midsummer Blue

A Hearts and Hourglasses Ficlet
"Midsummer Blue"
Harry Potter Fanfiction written by Yen

"Damn it!" The young Light wizard was furious. His brown eyes were reddened by anger. The full Body-Bind spell he had cast at Salazar was easily blocked and dispelled by the older more experienced Dark wizard.

Salazar didn't bother to counterattack. He only needed to occupy the Light wizard so that Marius and the others could have the time they needed to take as much as they can from the library in Ravenclaw manor.

Raiding the estate of prestigious Ravenclaw had been modest challenge thus far. The only real problem the Dark wizards had to face was the powerful and intricate protection spells and barrier charms that Regius Ravenclaw had placed around the boundaries of his land. They had weakened since his death six months ago, but they were still extremely effective in guarding what had been Regius' property. That was until Salazar broke through them.

"We're done, Sir!" Salazar's eyes flicked to Marius who was coming towards him. The others were now heading to the open doors that led outside to the garden. He splayed his right hand, and Marius stopped where he was, not coming nearer. Salazar jerked his head every so slightly signaling Marius to go on ahead. He would follow them.

Salazar dispelled another stunning spell that the Light wizard threw at him. He could see the frustration reaching breaking point in the young man's face, but Salazar was not underestimating him. He knew the reason why his opponent had not cast spells and hexes more powerful than Petrificus, Stupefy, Expelliarmus and the like.

Light wizards were known to be softhearted and reluctant when it came down to using spells that can cause real actual damage to their opponents. Disarming spells were their preference, and Salazar was using this particular light wizarding quirk to his advantage. As long as he didn't counterattack with his own spells or return the Light wizard's attacks, the latter wouldn't resort to more powerful magic.

Confusion fought with anger and frustration in the young wizard's face. Salazar could see that he was bewildered. Salazar was just defending himself, not attacking in return. The Light wizard was ill equipped and uncomfortable with dealing with an opponent who wouldn't fight back. It wasn't a proper duel unless both sides attacked and defended in return. All the Light wizard had been doing since the start of their fight was attacking while Salazar defended. It wasn't even the classic arrangement. It was usually Dark wizards who were on the offensive.

Salazar's fingers tightened on his wand, and the Light wizard's eyes narrowed. Salazar watched as the other prepared himself to counter whatever spell Salazar would cast at him. It was what he was waiting for. He had been waiting for Salazar to finally fight back and to allow him an opportunity to break through the Dark wizard's defense.

A corner of Salazar's mouth twitched. He had no intention of attacking the other man. He was simply going to set this room ablaze before he left. He could already imagine the horror in the other wizard's eyes, but before he could cast Inferno, a witch rushed into the room and smashed her staff against his wand arm, causing Salazar to drop his wand.

His wand clattered on the floor and rolled across its polished surface, and Salazar instinctively threw himself after it. He felt a slight breeze against his back and knew he barely missed being hit a second time by the witch who had attacked him in an unexpected manner.

"Godric!" she shouted at the Light wizard, "stop gawking and do something!" Salazar retrieved his wand and rolled to his back before pushing himself up back on his feet. Godric looked embarrassed, and Salazar shared the emotion. The newcomer's attack style, though non-magical, was very effective. Salazar could count on one hand how many times he had lost his wand in a battle, and he had never been as surprised as when she made him drop his wand.

Salazar grew wary when the Light witch advanced towards him again. Black eyes stared at him with very unfriendly intent, and the staff she held across her chest looked quite formidable, and it was. Salazar's injured left arm twinged with pain, and much to his unease, he found himself backing away from her.

"Helga! Godric!" Another witch rushed into the library, and Salazar froze when he saw her. Worried blue eyes met his, and recognition flashed in them. Suddenly, they widened with warning, and she shouted, "Look out!"

Salazar ducked immediately, Air rushed over his head as the end of Helga's staff hurtled through the empty space where only an instant before his skull had occupied. That was serious. It was meant to kill or to maim him severely. Salazar lost no time in getting out of there. He threw himself forward and tumbled passed Helga who was angry for having missed breaking apart Salazar's skull.

Completing the tumble, he quickly regained his footing and ran out the doors and into the garden. He kept running until he cleared the boundaries of Ravenclaw estate. After which, he Disapparated.

***

"A toast to Wise Old Ravenclaw!" Cheers and shouts of approval echoed through the main hall of Hierthent. Salazar entered in time to see a young wizard lift a large goblet of wine to his mouth. The lad was standing on the single long wide table running through the hall. It was capable of sitting more than a hundred, but now only three wizards and three witches were present. They were gathered at the table's end nearer to the entrance.

The leader of the group, Marius, finished off the cup amidst applause from his companions. He raised the goblet high, and its gold and bejeweled surface glittered in the torchlight illuminating the hall. Salazar recognized the cup as one of the spoils they had seized from Ravenclaw manor. Suddenly, Marius noticed him, and the youth grinned widely and held the cup towards him.

"And a toast to Lord Slytherin of the Thirteen!" declared Marius with great exuberance. The other wizards followed Marius' hand and saw Salazar, and the succeeding ruckus that followed was so loud that Salazar had to try to quiet the youngsters down by pretending to be stern and disapproving of the noise they were making. It wasn't working.

"Sir, this was the best mission we've ever done!" yelled Septimus, his black eyes flashing with enthusiasm. Suddenly, he got hit in the back of his head by Feyra. "What do you mean the best ever?" she said, frowning at Septimus who was glowering back at her, "We barely did anything. Lord Slytherin did all the work."

"Now. Now, Feyra," said Marius in a peaceable tone, "Let us not seem ungrateful to Lord Slytherin for the help he has given us."

"I agree with Feyra," Cassius interjected quietly. The silver-haired youth ignored Marius' dark look and paid no attention to the smile Feyra was giving to him. Salazar kept his expression impassive as Cassius addressed him. "You didn't have to come with us, Lord Slytherin," he said softly, his pale eyes marking Salazar carefully, "We could have handled this excursion on our own."

"Hah!" Septimus snorted with derision. "Cassius, you know very well that none of us could have broken any one of those protection spells old Regius Ravenclaw placed around his estate."

"You don't know that, Septimus," Feyra said in Cassius' defense, "We could have at least tried to break them on our own first."

"Feyra," said Lilith, who was her closest friend, "You shouldn't be so serious about this. We should all be glad that Lord Slytherin accompanied us."

"Lilith," Feyra snapped, "I just don't like the idea of someone baby-sitting us." She glared defiantly at Salazar. "We've never failed any task the Thirteen has given us," she said bluntly at him, "and I do not consider you as one of them."

"Feyra!" Septimus said with outrage, but before he could say anything else, she stalked off away from them and exited the hall. A few moments later, Lilith and the other witch, Tres, followed after her. Septimus began to apologize profusely to Salazar on Feyra's behalf, saying that she didn't mean those words she said. Salazar waved away the young wizard's concern and asked Septimus to make a list of the items taken from Ravenclaw manor instead. He immediately went off to do as Salazar wished, eager to please the older wizard.

Only Marius and Cassius were left, and Salazar was bemused since Cassius was staring intently at him while Marius was watching Cassius like a hawk.

***

"Tell me what you think of them, Salazar," Lady Ilias wheezed, and he quickly and gently helped her to sit more comfortably against the mountain of pillows on her bed. Lady Ilias, or Julia, as he preferred to think of her, was a very old and frail witch, who spent most of her time sleeping and dreaming. She was a True Seer, a magical rarity even in the Wizarding world.

Salazar sat down on the stool he had positioned beside the bed and watched as almost translucent web-like eyelids fluttered weakly over glazed iridescent green orbs. He looked into her eyes intently, seeing his reflection in them. People who knew Lady Ilias had often told him how much his eyes were like hers.

Age lines around thin wrinkled lips stretched as Lady Ilias murmured, repeating her request, "What do you think of them, Salazar?"

He tilted his head slightly and finally allowed uncertainty to show on his face. He answered slowly, choosing his words carefully, "I think they are still young and inexperienced, but they show a great deal of potential to me." Then, he stopped.

Lady Ilias laughed weakly. The sound was a dry scratchy wheeze. "Salazar," she said softly after catching her breath, "is that all you see in them?"

Salazar hesitated in answering, and she sighed, sounding regretful. "A waste," she whispered, "a waste. You have such a way with young ones, Salazar. Surely you must have noticed how easily they open up to you, how quickly they show their true selves, how quickly the masks they normally wear are shed in your presence. They do not hide how they feel from you. You have a talent, Salazar, a truly great gift, and yet you do not see it."

He leaned towards her and asked in an urgent tone, "What is it, Julia? What is it that I do not see?"

But she had fallen asleep, and Salazar couldn't make himself wake her. Even if he would dare, there wouldn't be time. He stood up even as the door opened and Cassius walked in. Salazar backed away as the younger man went to his grandmother's side and looked her over.

Cassius' face was set, and his eyes were dark with barely contained anger. Salazar left them and shut the door quietly behind him. There wasn't anyone in the hallway outside, and he allowed himself to lean against the door and rest for awhile.

What did she mean by it...? Salazar pressed his left hand against his temple and rubbed it wearily. What is it I do not see? He wished that Lady Ilias would tell him straight what it was. Ever since he had joined the Thirteen a month ago, he had been summoned at all odd hours to her bedside.

She would then speak to him in long sentences and riddles, and each time he asked for the answers, it was too late, for she had returned to her slumber. Each time she wakened, she would send for Salazar and would only talk to him alone. This was the reason why Cassius displayed such animosity towards Salazar. Lady Ilias was his only family left, and she preferred to spend what little time she had left with a stranger instead of with her grandson.

***

It was nearly dawn when he arrived at his home. With barely a thought of what he was doing, he went into the commode and turned on the tap. Hot water gushed into the sunken ceramic pool large enough to accommodate a man fully. Absent-mindedly, he stared at himself at the mirror as he waited for the pool to fill. A tall thin man with disheveled silver hair stared back at him with blank green eyes.

A second later, Salazar yawned at himself and stretched to pull and to ease every weary muscle in his body. The water had risen to the appropriate level by the time he had finished stretching, and he turned the tap off before disrobing and stepping into the water. He yelped an instant later as the water was a trifle bit too hot. Grumbling softly under his breath, he summoned his wand from his robes on the floor and cast a slight cooling spell on the hot water.

Thirty seconds later, he was lying in the water, every part of him save for his head submerged in water. Salazar breathed in deeply and sighed loudly, feeling utterly relaxed and contented just to be in hot water. He ducked his head down and rose back up quickly, flinging his wet hair back and resting against the curved side of the pool. His eyes fell on the scrub and soap nearby then looked away. He felt too lazy and wanted only to be lulled to sleep by the warmth seeping into his body. But he didn't allow himself to do that.

Instead, fifteen minutes later, he got out of the pool and drained it. He cast a drying spell on himself, put on a spare robe and went to his study. There was cot in his study, where he slept often instead of in the proper bed in the master suite. As he pulled back the furs on the cot, he heard a slight muffled sound coming through the stone walls of his study. It was the crow of a rooster. Salazar shrugged slightly when he recognized it and climbed into the cot. A moment later, he waved his wand and all the torches in the room died. The only light that remained came from the flickering blue flames in the fireplace.

Barely had his head touched the pillow when exhaustion overcame him, and he finally allowed himself to fall asleep. Salazar dreamt of what happened in the last six hours in reverse order. He dwelled on the words Lady Ilias had told him, wondering what she meant by the It he wasn't seeing. He had always known he had a talent of making youngsters accept him quickly within their groups, like with Marius, Cassius, Septimus, Freya, Lilith and Tres. Cassius and Freya clearly didn't like him, but they weren't at all afraid of showing their dislike of him clearly even in his presence.

Somehow, they knew he would never reprimand or scold them. They knew they had nothing to fear from him, and Salazar knew they were right. He had no particular interest in telling them what they should or should not do except in what they should do during missions, and they followed his orders to the letter, even Cassius and Freya. It was only after the mission was done that the two young wizards showed their discontentment to Salazar, who paid keen attention to their every word. However, he never told them if they were wrong and he was right or they were right and he was wrong. All he did was listen to them, and that seemed enough for them. For Salazar, it was all he would do.

Perhaps that was what Lady Ilias mean by it. The It being that he made no or very little effort in influencing what young people should think or do. Indeed the only time he tried to make a child to do something for him was when he kidnapped Rowena Ravenclaw six years ago in order to learn Mindread from her. That attempt earned him nothing but a month of having to deal with a twelve year old little girl.

Salazar frowned in his sleep and rolled over, throwing his arm over his eyes as if to stave off a headache, but already his mind was bringing up much older memories and replaying them in his dreams.

"I promise you will go home after you teach me how to read minds," Salazar said in a kind but firm tone of voice to the little brown-haired girl who was sitting across the table from him. She was glaring at him with a rebellious expression. Both of them were ignoring and not eating their breakfast of plain gummy oatmeal.

"I am not teaching you anything," she answered back in a crossed tone, "I want to go home!"

"You will go home after you teach me Mindreading," he countered lightly, "I went through a great deal of trouble to kidnap you." He didn't bother to mention the turmoil in the Wizarding world caused by the disappearance of the Ravenclaw heir. Old Regius, Salazar had heard, had launched a massive search for his daughter, and the reward of a hundred and twenty galleons he had offered for her safe return had both Light and Dark wizards scouring the cities and countryside in search of Rowena Ravenclaw.

Salazar jumped when Rowena said, "One hundred and twenty galleons is a lot of money. Why don't you just return me to my father right away?" He glared at Rowena, who was smiling smugly at him. The little brat read my mind again!

"I am not a little brat!" Rowena shrieked at him, and she threw her bowl of oatmeal at Salazar before jumping down from her chair and running out of the kitchen.

Salazar jabbed an elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm. Oatmeal was running down his face and dripping down on his hand, his robes and on the table. He licked a little of the oatmeal around his mouth, shaking his head slightly. He waited for anger to come, but only amusement showed itself. Youthful spirit never failed to amused him

"Spunky little brat," he muttered softly under his breath as he pulled his wand out to clean the mess. He would still wash his face shortly after this. Magic didn't leave a clean feeling behind the way water and soap did.

The dream shifted, and Salazar was standing in front of the door of the guestroom. Rowena had locked it. He was beginning to feel exasperated when after he cast Alohomora on it, it still wouldn't open. The door handle would now turn, but something was against the door on the other side, keeping it close.

Salazar raised his wand again, intending to force open the door. A moment later, he decided not to. It was what she expected him to do, to go after her, but he was never one to do what other people (especially little girls) expected him to do. He went to his study instead. He had some work to do there. Rowena would have to come out sooner or later.

Three hours later, when he left his study, he found Rowena napping on the hallway floor. Clearly, she had been waiting for him to come out and had fallen asleep in the meantime. Salazar lifted her carefully and carried her back to the guestroom. When he entered the room, he noticed that a high-back armchair was beside the door. Rowena must have used it to brace the door against the floor.

Salazar was amused to see that the bed was made. He looked down to the little girl sleeping in his arms. She twitched suddenly as if she felt his eyes on her and pressed closer to him, rubbing the side of her face against his robes. Rowena Ravenclaw may be a hostage, but she still makes the bed she sleeps in.

He balanced her gingerly on one arm and bend slightly to pull back the bed covers before placing her on the bed. As he pulled the covers up and over her, Rowena opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"You're a very strange man," she told him with a very serious face.

Salazar inclined his head slightly and said, "Thank you." He sat down on the edge of the bed as Rowena sat up, looking at him intently.

"You're not going to let me go until you learn how to read minds from me, aren't you?" she said.

He nodded, and her eyebrows knitted into a frown.

"But I don't even understand how I do it," she told Salazar. "How am I suppose to teach you something I don't even understand?"

"We'll take it one step at a time," answered Salazar with a smile. He was pleased that she was finally seeing things his way.

What Salazar dreamed next he barely remembered when he woke up a few hours later. They were merely flashes and instances of the days that followed as Rowena tried to teach him Mindread. Halfway through the month, she had decided that it was impossible for her to teach Mindread and declared it equally impossible for Salazar to learn the skill.

"I'm telling you this won't work!" Rowena scowled at Salazar. They were both sitting on the floor of her room. The curtains were drawn, and bright sunlight shined through the windows and made a warm patch of light on the floor. Rowena was sitting right in the middle of the bright spot with Salazar squatting just outside of it.

Salazar's eyes were closed, and he was frowning and concentrating. He was trying to read what Rowena was thinking. He got nothing, and when he opened his eyes, he found that she was gone. An instant after, something soft and fluffy hit him.

There was a childish giggle, and Salazar glanced over to the bed where Rowena was sitting on. There was an expectant look in her blue eyes, and Salazar knew she expected him to be irritated or perhaps be angry and at least to retaliate. When he just smiled, puzzlement filled her expression.

"I don't understand you," she said as he stood up and walked over to her. She blinked when he dropped the pillow on her head.

"What do you mean, little brat?" said Salazar. Instantly, he was rewarded by a glare and received a pillow pummeling.

"I am not a little brat! Stop calling me that!"

Salazar backed away and stopped when he was out of range of Rowena's blows. He smirked at her infuriated expression, then quickly schooled his expression when she looked ready to go after him with her pillow.

"All right," he said in a diplomatic tone of voice, "what do you prefer me to address you as?"

Rowena's chin lifted higher. Her eyes met Salazar in an imperious manner. "You may address me as Lady Ravenclaw," she stated regally.

Salazar kept his face serious, nodded and said submissively, "Very well, Lady Ravenclaw." But his mind said, What a little brat.

The pillow hit him dead center on his face as Rowena screamed, "I am not a little brat!"

I really must learn to read minds, thought Salazar as he picked up the pillow that had fallen to the floor.

"I keep telling you it's impossible to learn," said Rowena, frowning darkly at him, "I wish you would give up and let me go home."

Salazar frowned back at her. "I wish you would stop reading my mind," he countered.

Rowena crossed her arms and rebutted, "I wish you would stop calling me little brat."

But you are a little- Salazar managed to cancel the thought before it was completed, but Rowena had read the unfinished thought, and she gave him a murderous look.

I must stop thinking of that B word, Salazar thought to himself.

"You would be wise to do that, Salazar," said Rowena in a very adult tone of voice. He glared at her, and she smiled innocently at him.

"You are far too young to be addressing me by my first name," he reprimanded her.

A fair brow lifted, and Rowena asked, "Then, how should I address you?"

He paused momentarily then answered, "Slytherin."

She considered him silently for a few seconds then said, "No, you are Salazar to me, Salazar."

"... Impudent little br- bird."

Rowena smiled at him brilliantly, and her behavior was exemplary for the rest of her stay at his home.

***

At noon, Salazar was shown into Lord Rathal's private study. The manservant told him to wait for a while and said that his master would be joining him shortly. Their midday repast was already prepared and ready on a table before the fireplace.

Salazar looked around curiously as he waited for the other man to arrive. He had never been at Rathal manor before. Lord Jiswell Rathal was one of the Thirteen, and he was Freya's grandfather. Salazar had never spoken to Jiswell though both men were always present when the coalition gathered.

Then his interest in architecture of Jiswell's study vanished when the most tantalizing odor wafted across his face. Automatically, he headed towards the table where he and Jiswell would be eating.

Salazar's mouth dropped open. On trenchers of coarse bread were venison ribs in wine, a roasted joint of lamb, pork quiche and stuffed game hens. For soup, there was tredure, a thick broth with breadcrumbs folded into it. Small cakes liberally covered with a wine sauce and sprinkled with fruits and nuts served as dessert.

His stomach growled, and Salazar remembered that he had only a bowl of oatmeal to break his fast this day. After a four-hour sleep, he had woken up, gone about his morning ritual and left his home. When he arrived at Hierthent, the coalition's stronghold, a page gave him a message from Rathal, inviting Salazar for a meal over at his estate.

This isn't a meal, thought Salazar. This is feast. He lifted a tankard of wine. The beverage inside was mulled with honey and spices.

There was a scratching sound at the door, and Salazar had just replaced the tankard when the door flew open, and two huge dogs burst into the study. Salazar backed away in alarm and yelled when both dogs jumped him simultaneously.

Huge heavy paws pounded on his chest, pushing him back and making him lose his balance. Thinking quickly, Salazar fell away from the table and landed on the floor heavily. The hounds immediately began sniffing him all over and licking his face eagerly.

"Apollo, Artemis, heel!"

The two wolfhounds were reluctant to leave Salazar, but fortunately for them, they did just as Salazar's fingers closed over his wand. He pushed himself up with one hand, his left hand still clenched around his wand in his pocket. Salazar glared at Apollo and Artemis who had retreated to sit on their haunches beside their master.

Salazar heard a chuckle and looked up to see Jiswell grinning at him. Lord Jiswell Rathal was tall well-built wizard who was into his seventies. He was raven-haired just like his granddaughter though the hair at his temples have began to whiten, adding much needed distinguishment to his otherwise youthful features. A beard would even do more, but Jiswell preferred to be clean-shaven. It was a preference that stemmed from his family's Roman ancestry.

Blue eyes twinkled with amusement as Jiswell helped Salazar from the floor. Salazar almost growled at Apollo when the hound bumped heavily against Salazar's leg.

"I must say I am pleased that they approve of you, Salazar," Jiswell said conversationally after they were both seated at the table. Salazar nodded shortly at the other wizard and jerked his foot away from Artemis, who seemed to think that Salazar's foot made a good pillow. Both of Jiswell's pets were lying down on the floor and pinning Salazar's chair between their large bodies.

A white ceramic bowl suddenly appeared in front of Salazar, who was all too happy to wash his hands and wrists in the soapy water. As soon as he finished, the bowl disappeared and a small cloth replaced it. Salazar dried his hands while wishing he could had washed his face as well, but it would have been disrespectful to do so in front of Jiswell.

Though considering how amused Jiswell was with the way his dogs treated his guest, Salazar doubted Jiswell would be insulted if he had washed his face. But concerns of personal hygiene went out of the window when Jiswell carved the roasted lamb joint, cutting the succulent red meat into manageable mouth-size pieces. Under the table, Apollo and Artemis whimpered. They weren't seeing the delectable sight the humans were seeing, but their very sensitive noses were driving their canine imaginations wild.

Apollo began drooling on Salazar's foot.

***

Jiswell watched as his guest downed his sixth cup of wine. Salazar hiccuped as he placed down his goblet. On both sides of him, both Apollo and Artemis was sitting up and watching the young man expectantly. Several moments, they were each rewarded with a broken half of the trencher that had held the soup course.

Salazar was drunk. His right hand was absent-mindedly scratching Artemis behind her ears, while his left hand picked at the remains of the roasted hen he had eaten. He blinked when the wash basin made its appearance again and looked over with bleary eyes at Jiswell, who smiled at him and began washing his hands. Understanding lit up Salazar's green eyes, and he mimicked Jiswell, washing his hands as well. He sloshed quite a bit of water around, and Apollo backed away when Salazar spilled a fair amount of water on him.

Jiswell's wash basin vanished after he finished using it, but Salazar's hadn't since Salazar was now happily playing with it. Jiswell was bemused at how engrossed the younger wizard was. He was running his fingertips around the basin's rim. Jiswell was surprised when Salazar produced a clear tone from the basin and was more than impressed when water began to spray up in tiny fountains.

Salazar looked satisfied, and he rubbed his hands quicker against the basin's rim. Water began to shot up a few inches higher and splashed outside the container, raining on the table and on the floor. Apollo and Artemis went over to Jiswell's dry side of the table. Soon, however, Salazar had to stop because there was no more water in the basin. The younger man looked disappointed at this, and he shrugged, yawned widely and stretched hard, extending his arms high over his head. After which, he collapsed against his chair and fell asleep.

Jiswell rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyeing Salazar intently. His right hand lowered and scratched Apollo's head. After a month of observing Salazar Slytherin, Jiswell was finally certain of how the other wizard had managed to be admitted into the Thirteen at the young age of thirty.

In the six hundred years of the coalition's history, no Dark wizard or witch had even been considered for admittance until they were at least sixty years old, and that was only for consideration. The competition was fierce and relentless for the thirteen most powerful seats in the Dark wizarding society. Countless have failed, many had died. The price was usually high, but the reward was always immeasurable.

Jiswell, himself, only gained acceptance into the Thirteen three years ago. He took over Lady Julia Ilias' chair when she became too old and too feeble to participate actively in the organization. Jiswell, Salazar and four others were considered as juniors in the coalition. The senior members were always at least a hundred years old and above. Age and experience counted highly in the Thirteen, which was why Salazar Slytherin's admission came as such a tremendous surprise.

In an unprecedented motion, the seven senior members in the Thirteen had unanimously voted in Salazar Slytherin. Jiswell only earned his place by a narrow margin of four votes out of seven, chosen from over a dozen candidates. And he had spent decades of his life courting for the favors of the senior wizards and witches in the coalition.

How had Salazar Slytherin achieved this feat? Was it pity? Jiswell had surmised, as did many wizards and witches. Everyone knew about the cruel fate that befell the Slytherin family. Eighteen years ago, the muggles who served the Slytherins had rebelled against their wizard and witch masters. They set fire to the manor in the dead of night. Everyone inside died in their sleep except for one twelve year old boy.

It was suspected that other wizards were involved in the massacre, rival families and enemies of the Slytherins. How else could mere muggles pull off such a terrible deed against a powerful Dark wizarding family? But the conspirators were never found nor any clues discovered of who the masterminds were. Instead, noble wizarding families began to conceal the magical world from their muggle serfs.

Salazar, Jiswell heard, disappeared for several years after the tragedy. He returned twelve years ago and served as an apprentice to Lord Trenzel, who was the current Head Wizard of the Thirteen. Twelve years later, Salazar achieved one of the highest positions in the Dark wizarding world.

But Jiswell knew that pity wouldn't and couldn't move the Thirteen. What mattered was how useful the potential could be.

Jiswell knew that Salazar had made himself indispensable to the senior wizards and witches of the Thirteen. In the past few years, there were few notable events that didn't mention Salazar Slytherin's name. He had not become only Lord Trenzel's right hand, but also proved useful and beneficial to the other members of the Thirteen. Jiswell, himself, had gained from Salazar's presence. The young wizard could be counted upon to do whatever task was needed to be done, and it was done expediently.

Salazar was clearly ambitious, and that in its self should have gained him enemies and obstacles in the coalition and outside of the organization, but he was very careful and made certain that others benefited from his quick rise through the ranks. Jiswell also saw that the young wizard was guileless. Salazar's expressive green eyes were usually clear and unaffected. When one looked into them, there was an impulse to trust the young wizard. Even Jiswell felt it when he looked into Salazar's eyes though he was very suspicious of the younger wizard. It was an attractive and a charming quality.

Lady Ilias saw it the quickest and took personal interest in Salazar Slytherin. Before Lord Trenzel, she had been the Head of the Thirteen before she became too infirm to guide the coalition properly. When she was of sound mind and body, she and Trenzel didn't get along splendidly. The coalition had been once often divided on various issues; its members choosing sides between Lady Ilias and Lord Trenzel. When Salazar was introduced as the latter's apprentice, there was much amusement as Lady Ilias had made it clear she intended to steal Salazar from Lord Trenzel.

Another thing that was in Salazar's favor was his physical appearance. He was neither handsome nor repulsive. Except for his brilliant green eyes, there was little remarkable about him physically. In height, he was an inch shorter than Jiswell. His premature silver gray hair made him seem older than his age. His face was sharply defined, but instead of looking severe like Lord Trenzel, Salazar usually went around with thoughtful half-sleepy demeanor. There was a palpable air of sadness around him, but it was easily dispelled when the young wizard smiled.

People were drawn to Salazar, especially people younger than him. Freya often complained to her parents and Jiswell about Salazar, who had been placed in charge of their group of six. Freya disliked Salazar not because he had done something to anger her personally, rather she was envious of the attention young Cassius Ilias was giving Salazar. Freya had a crush on Cassius ever since they were children and had been trying to make him notice her. Instead Cassius was paying more mind to Salazar though the latter had only been with their group for the past month.

It was certain that Salazar Slytherin was headed for great things. Most Dark wizards thought that he would be Head of the Thirteen someday, perhaps even the youngest ever. And he was dangerous. The senior members of the coalition, especially Trenzel, thought they controlled Salazar, and through him, thought to influence the junior members as well. Jiswell knew Salazar was the key to controlling the other members of the Thirteen.

Jiswell stood up from his chair and walked over to Salazar, who was dozing in his chair with his head tilted in what looked like an uncomfortable angle. Artemis whined softly, and Jiswell patted her head in an absent-minded fashion as he considered his young guest. He hoped Salazar would agree to the proposal he had in mind.

***

Salazar dreamt he was a boy again. He was standing in the shade of a massive oak tree and watching with a grin as his uncles Krys and Mendrel climbed the tree, competing with each other on who could climb the fastest. Their father and Salazar's grandfather, Lord Salwell Slytherin, bellowed at them to get back down on the ground before they break their necks.

"Your mother and I didn't go through all those sleepless nights just so that you two could go climbing trees and breaking your- Salazar, get back down here!"

"Too late, father!" shouted Mendrel gleefully as he leaned down and grabbed Salazar's arm, helping the boy up to sit on the limb beside him. On another branch, Krys laughingly said, "Salazar is one of us now!"

Salwell brandished his staff at them and looked ready to pull out his wand when Salazar's parents arrived. His mother, Lyta, quickly calmed Salwell down while his father, Scythe, looked up to his younger siblings and his first-born.

In a serious and deadly tone, he outlined exactly what he would do to Krys and Mendrel should anything happen to Salazar. Mendrel latched on to his nephew protectively when Scythe began detailing the scalping process.

Krys looked over to his twin with unease. "Maybe we should return Salazar, Mendrel."

Mendrel nodded fervently, and both whipped out their wands and levitated a reluctant scowling Salazar down to Scythe who laughed as he received his son.

His father's green eyes were warm with pride, and Salazar quickly lost his scowl. He was smiling by the time Scythe lowered him back to the ground. Salazar felt hands circle his neck and looked back up at his fair silver-haired mother.

Salazar felt drunk with happiness. He leaned back against his mother as his father took out his wand and conjured a large white blanket. Still up in the tree, Krys and Mendrel summoned heavy rocks to hold down the blanket's edges.

"It's a lovely day for a picnic," Salazar heard his mother say, and he nodded in agreement though he doubted if anyone noticed. Salazar looked to the horizon, seeing a sky that was an endless midsummer blue. The fields were golden with heavy ripe heads of wheat. They were ready to be harvested.

He felt a rough hand tousle his hair, and Salazar knew, without looking, that it was his grandfather's.

***

Salazar woke up from the dream of his family with a splitting headache. He groaned, cursing under his breath as he sat up with his hand nursing his aching head.

He suddenly stiffened, realizing that he didn't know where he was. Salazar was in a large four-poster bed. The room he was in was dim as all the curtains were drawn close over the windows. Salazar got out of the bed and barefooted, patted over to the nearest window and drew its curtain aside. Dusk light blinded him, and he squinted. From the surroundings outside, he was still in Rathal manor.

His headache flared, worsened by the glaring light, and Salazar whirled away, his mind battling with the pain and trying to remember what had happened to him. The last thing he could remember was eating with Lord Jiswell Rathal.

He froze again when there was a knock on the door, and it opened.

***

Freya, as Jiswell expected, was furious when his manservant showed Salazar into the dining hall. His granddaughter stood up immediately and demanded to know why he was here.

From the way Salazar was staring at Jiswell, it was obvious the younger wizard also wanted to know why he was here. They hadn't talked properly earlier that day.

Jiswell gave Freya a reprimanding look and miraculously she sat back down in her chair. Jiswell sighed inwardly with relief but he knew it would be much worse later.

He stood up, gesturing at Salazar to sit at the table. The dining table was long and able to seat more than a dozen diners, but since there were only three eating this evening, they only occupied one end of the table.

Jiswell waited until Salazar sat down in front of Freya before sitting himself down at the head of the table. Three servants immediately appeared bearing the first course of the meal, which was a light onion soup.

***

By the sixth course, which was grilled sturgeon smothered in a delicate ginger sauce, Salazar was beginning to suspect that Jiswell was trying to fatten him up. He was also wondering how Freya kept herself trim and slender with extravagant meals like these served daily.

Dinner conversation since the start of the meal was almost nonexistent. Jiswell placed most of his attention on his plate as did Freya who still looked angry that Salazar was having dinner with them. Salazar couldn't consume entirely the portions served on his plate and found himself discretely passing leftovers to Apollo sitting under his chair.

It was only when dessert was served (sweet rice and egg pudding) that there was actual conversation at the table.

"How were things at Hierthent today, Freya?" asked Jiswell.

"There was a little trouble when Godric Gryffindor came by," answered Freya.

Salazar listened intently, remembering. Godric Gryffindor was the Light wizard he had dueled with at Ravenclaw manor.

Jiswell looked surprised. "He actually came to Hierthent?" The Thirteen's stronghold was akin to a lion's den to Light wizards.

Freya nodded, smiling slightly. "We were all quite surprised. He's the first one who dared to come to Hierthent." Her blue eyes flicked to Salazar. "He demanded to see you."

Somehow, Salazar wasn't surprised.

"Let me guess," said Jiswell, "he demanded that we return what was taken from the Ravenclaws."

Freya nodded, and Jiswell snorted. Salazar smiled, amused. Everyone knew, including Light wizards, that Dark wizards never return what they take. Unless there was equal compensation."

Rowena Ravenclaw's face suddenly flashed through his mind, and Salazar stilled, startled that he was thinking of her.

"Salazar," said Jiswell, and he shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts before looking towards the older wizard.

Jiswell's eyes were shrewd, and the next words he said barely registered in Salazar's mind.

"I would like you to consider taking Freya as your wife."

The room fell into dead silence.

"GRANDFATHER!" Freya stood up and stared at Jiswell with shock, horror and fury.

Jiswell straightened, leaning back in his chair. He looked calmly at Freya. "Sit down, Fre-"

"NO! I will not! How could you even-" She broke off when Jiswell's eyes remained steady and serious. She breathed in sharply, glanced at Salazar with wide disbelieving eyes then dashed away from the table and out from the dining hall.

"Well," murmured Jiswell after a minute of uncomfortable silence, "that went much better than I expected."

Salazar stared at him. "Is this the reason why you invited me here?" he asked in a voice that sounded hoarse to his ears.

"Yes," answered Jiswell simply. "Don't be so surprised, Salazar," he said when Salazar continued to stare at him, "You are after all the most sought after wizard in our society."

Salazar's mouth dried. "I am?"

It was Jiswell's turn to look surprised, and he chuckled when he realized that Salazar was serious. "Goodness, Salazar! You're the only member of our group who doesn't have children."

His stomach turned to lead as Jiswell continued, "I should warn you that I'm not the only one who has thought of making you family. You'll be hearing from Bresnell very soon, and he has a daughter, two granddaughters, six nieces and nine grandnieces he's been wanting to introduce to you."

Salazar grabbed his wine cup and emptied it.

"Then there's Nerinval who's been boasting of his great great granddaughter, Jessica."

Salazar choked. "She's only a child!" he protested, and Jiswell looked at him suspiciously.

"You've met Jessica?" he inquired.

Salazar's face was burning. "Three days ago. Nerinval invited me to sup with him, but I didn't know that was his intention when he introduced Jessica to me."

Jiswell frowned darkly. "That scoundrel," he muttered, "his turn doesn't come until next week."

"... What?!"

The older wizard looked a trifle bit embarrassed. "We all know your schedule is quite full with your duties, Salazar, so we agreed to take turns."

Salazar stood up abruptly. "Lord Rathal," he said tonelessly, "your hospitality had been most gracious, but I must take my leave now."

Jiswell raised his hand suddenly, and Salazar's chair jerked, crashing against his legs and knocking him back down to sit in it. Apollo suddenly appeared in front of him and pinned Salazar to his seat by rearing up and placing his front paws on his chest.

Salazar was speechless. Jiswell wasn't.

"Listen Salazar," Jiswell said lightly, "you've been manipulating things and events to go your way. Never think that we haven't noticed."

Salazar's eyes narrowed, and he tried to push Apollo off him. It was useless, and he stopped when Apollo's warm dark eyes turned dangerous.

"Freya is in love with Cassius," said Salazar softly.

Jiswell shrugged. "She will learn to accept her place."

But I will not accept the place you and the others have chosen for me, thought Salazar, keeping his eyes locked on Jiswell's eyes, which had turned cold and calculating. You underestimate me, Jiswell.

They think to control me by wedlock... It isn't enough for them that I what I am working for has increased their powers and their holdings and will further them even farther. ... It isn't enough for them. They want to control my bloodline as well.

I must not let them... I am the last of my family. Their legacy lies with me alone. I will not let them control me. I mustn't let them. I am not their lackey.

Salazar bowed his head slightly, in a submissive gesture. "I will consider your proposal, Lord Rathal," he said softly.

"Excellent, Salazar," said Jiswell. "Excellent."

***

It was difficult not to run. Difficult. The forest path he was taking was dark, and the trail was hard to see. Salazar could hear them following him, tracking him. Jiswell had sent Apollo and Artemis to follow him.

He could hear the faint sounds of their heavy panting, the rustling of leaves being disturbed and twigs snapping under heavy paws. They were no mere ordinary wolfhounds. They were extensions of Lord Jiswell Rathal himself.

But they couldn't follow Salazar for long.

He whistled softly, and a faint whinny answered him. From up ahead came the steady sound of hooves pounding the forest floor. A heavy rush of wind passed and stopped beside Salazar. He reached up and grabbed hold of an invisible mane and swung himself upward and on the back of his Thestral.

Salazar saw Apollo and Artemis burst from the thick woods and onto the forest path, but they couldn't see him since a rider on a back of the black winged horse also gained the power of invisibility that the Thestral possessed. The hounds knew he was there though, and they lifted their muzzles to bay long deep howls before loping forward in search of Salazar.

He was tempted to harm the two hounds, turn them into toads perhaps as a warning to Jiswell, but it would be foolhardy. It wasn't wise to make Jiswell Rathal an enemy. He was too powerful for now.

You're afraid of me, Jiswell. Salazar's eyes filled with quiet contempt as Apollo and Artemis neared them. You and the others are afraid of me. You don't understand what I am working for. It is not for power or for wealth. Those things are finite. I want a legacy that will last forever.

Salazar turned his horse back in the other direction away from the dogs before letting the Thestral have its head. The horse galloped quickly through the forest, and upon reaching a clearing, it unfurled its wings and took to the sky.

Nobody can control me. Nobody, not unless I allow it. If I have to, I will start all over again from the beginning. If I must, I will go over to the other side to get what I want.

Fin.