Harry walked with purpose behind the professors - and matron - who came to him in the infirmary. After a few minutes of debating between him and Madam Pomfrey, she reluctantly gave him the pass to leave the infirmary.
Thus, he was here, just outside the doors of the Great Hall, dressed in his school robes.
"I hope you know, Harry, that you will cause quite the commotion when you enter the hall," Dumbledore commented jovially, followed by a scoff from the resident Potions Master.
"As if we needed Potter to get an even bigger head from his… admirers," Snape responded scathingly, yet Harry was amused to notice that it lacked the usual venom he had come to associate with his Potions professor.
"You need not antagonise a boy that just woke up from a week-long coma, Severus," McGonagall responded chidingly as the Headmaster chuckled. Pomfrey ignored the interaction, still quite irate as she was that Harry had refused to rest - no matter how much she understood the boy's feelings.
Dumbledore merely waved a placating hand, earning silence from his colleagues as he opened the door, revealing a student body observing with bated breath.
They all started moving and the moment Harry came into view, the hall erupted in cheers. He winced slightly against the onslaught of violent noise that violated his eardrums, noise strong enough to break the poise Daphne had meticulously taught him over the last seven or so months. Shouts of appreciation and awe were heard; some even going as far as calling him their 'Chosen One', if such a thing existed.
He briefly wondered what had happened that would make them call him such; a thought that quickly left his mind as he was certain he would know everything he had missed by lunch.
Instinctively, he turned his head to the left, towards the Slytherin table where his eyes immediately locked with a pair of what he thought were the prettiest sapphire eyes that he had ever seen, belonging to one Daphne Greengrass. His smile widened slightly as he saw what he recognised as concern and warmth in her gaze, accompanied by a gentle smile.
He knew he would draw attention to himself, yet he couldn't care less.
'I would be surprised if they haven't all figured out our friendship by now, from everything that happened thus far," Harry thought in regards to the student body.
His gaze broke when he finally reached the Gryffindor table, where a strong hand belonging to a certain red-headed wizard helped bring him to the table.
"Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed when she witnessed the prime example of manhandling before her, completely ignoring the fact that they were conjoined in a manly hug between the two, as Neville clapped his friend upon the back.
"Good to see you back, mate," Ron commented.
"It's good to be back," Harry responded with a smile as his eyes swivelled towards Hermione. "What did I miss?"
Hermione looked at him fondly. "Nothing much. Just some newspaper articles hailing you as the Chosen One, all because they speculate there is a prophecy about you."
To their surprise, Harry nodded, unable to speak as he chewed on a bit of sausage. After a few moments of shocked silence, he promptly swallowed.
"What?"
"What do you mean 'what'?" Hermione hissed as she hurriedly put up a few privacy charms. "There is a prophecy?"
"Well, yes. About me and Voldemort," Harry shrugged.
"Never thought I'd live to see the day that a truthful Prophet article was published," Ron whistled as he turned his focus towards his own food.
"Depends on what they actually wrote. I am certain that no one, except Harry knows all of the details," Neville commented.
"Actually, I will need to speak to you privately about it, Nev," Harry said with an oddly serious tone. "Before I share it with the others."
"Harry, I don't think that would be wise." Hermione said reluctantly.
"Oh? You don't actually want to know what it said?" Harry responded.
"Of course I do, but I don't think you should-"
"Let me guess. I should only share it between you, Ron and I because it could be dangerous otherwise?" Harry cut her off.
Hermione nodded sheepishly.
"Well, I won't do that. You, Ron, Susan and Daphne will all be offered the chance to know its contents in addition to Neville. I know the dangers, but I trust you. All of you. I couldn't simply do otherwise. After the events of the Ministry, after what you did, you deserve to know why everything happened the way it did." Harry said with an air of finality, and Hermione belatedly realised that the Harry she knew was all but gone.
She had borne witness to the changes going on inside of her best friend for the better part of the year, but never were they more apparent than now. Her friend had matured greatly, and that simple fact above all others made her happy.
"Alright. Well, you already know that I want to know," she responded kindly.
"You don' haf to as'," Ron said, his mouth full of eggs. The rest of their group grimaced in tandem.
"Please Ron," Neville spoke reluctantly. "Don't do that. Just… have some better tableside manners, will you?"
Ron raised his eyebrow inquisitively - a far cry from the perfected motion practised by several Slytherin students.
"I don't remember a witch ever being attracted by your table manners, Ron," Harry quipped with a chuckle.
Yet his words sparked a reaction in his friend, as Ron's eyes widened. He immediately straightened his back and grabbed his fork in an attempt to appear civilised.
The group's laughter at his antics quickly dispersed as the Headmaster stood once more to address his students.
"Now that we have all welcomed Harry back to our tables, I feel like it is the best opportunity to address something," Dumbledore said as all noise ceased within the hall. "Next year will be more hectic than ever. The forces that seek the ruination of our community are back upon the march, and at the forefront of our society. It is therefore imperative that we remain united. To better exemplify the need for unity, every single student come next year will be paired with another of a different house where possible in their classes."
Shocked silence reigned as a result of his announcement. Suddenly, Professor Snape rose from his seat, continuing the announcement.
"To put it simply, in each class you share with another House, on the first lesson in a subject next year, you will be given a partner from another House if possible to partner with for the rest of the year." Snape drawled out. "Let's say it's Potions, If I paired say Miss Lovegood and Mr. Creevey, or Mr. Longbottom and Miss Parkinson, those students will be expected to study together for the subject on joint projects throughout the year, as well as being partnered together in class."
Several students, mainly from Gryffindor and Slytherin scowled at the prospect of being paired up with a student of their rival house.
Snape sat back down as McGonagall rose.
"That will not be the case with students in Sixth and Seventh year, as most classes are shared amongst all Houses. There the students will be grouped into fours, with again where possible, one from each house, for the purpose of group projects. Regardless of the pairings and year, you are encouraged to study as groups of four."
McGonagall sat back down and Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, his eyes twinkling merrily at his students. "Thank you, Severus, Minerva. You have done a much better job explaining the changes than I would ever have."
Harry snickered as he saw Snape rolling his eyes.
"Now, with that settled, you are free to roam the halls and gather your belongings for your departure later today. The house elves will be available to help you with any missing items. Chop chop."
Everyone stood as one and prepared to exit the Great Hall, chatting enthusiastically with their peers in regards to the announcement.
"What do you think about it?" Daphne asked as she spawned next to them, much to the bewilderment of the Gryffindors.
"Bloody hell! How in the fu-"
"How are you, Daphne?" Harry quickly spoke, expertly muffling Ron's expletives.
Daphne's eyes sparkled with amusement at Ron's reaction. "I'm great. Are you well? Did you recover properly?"
"I did, yes. I feel better than ever," Harry responded with a warm smile.
"Only you could say that after being in a week-long coma from fighting Voldemort," Susan quipped as she too spawned behind Daphne, much to Ron's annoyance and confusion.
"Will you stop that?" He asked in bewilderment, earning a smack to the back of his head from Hermione. He turned his head towards her, his shocked expression still plastered on his face. "Honestly, how do you do that? I need to know!"
Neville suddenly joined. "Yes Hermione, 'you're a girl too'. Can't you teach him?" he asked in jest, quoting Ron's infamous blunder when he had asked Hermione to the Yule Ball.
Harry, Daphne and Susan looked on amusedly as Hermione started chasing both Gryffindors out of the Great Hall.
"What exactly did I miss?" Harry questioned lightly as he looked at his companions.
"We have kind of bonded in your absence," Susan commented airily, playing with a strand of her curly red hair. "Fighting for survival together tends to do that to people."
"I can tell you all about it, if you want," Daphne said, daintily raising her hand towards him.
Not missing a beat, Harry took it and lightly pressed his lips to her knuckles as practised, under the gaze of an extremely amused Susan. "I would love to, my lady, but I'm afraid I'm otherwise occupied."
"Oh look at you, acting every bit the Lord you are," Susan cooed before chuckling. "Pretty whipped, are you not?"
"Last time I checked, whipped cream tastes delicious," Harry quipped, causing both girls to blush and in Susan's case, splutter indignantly. He straightened his back and mock-bowed towards them. "Professor Dumbledore is expecting me. I will talk to you later."
And with that, he vanished towards the staircase.
"All those years, I never knew Harry was quite that witty," Susan said with a shake of her head as Daphne chuckled.
"Well, he was supposed to be a Slytherin. We have lots of wit in us, I'll have you know."
"He was?!" Susan exclaimed, linking her arm with Daphne's. "You have to tell me everything about that."
X
"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore's voice was heard beyond the wooden door which opened as Harry attempted to knock on it. The boy eyed it momentarily before striding into the office, still exactly the way that he remembered it.
Umbridge's vile clutches had never managed to reach this place, thankfully.
"I have to ask, how do you do that, Professor?" Harry asked as he stood in front of the wooden desk.
"Do what?" He replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"How do you always know who is at your door?"
"I believe you can find the answers for that within some advanced Ancient Runes textbooks," Dumbledore supplied rather unhelpfully. "Perhaps some self-study would do you good. Your friends, Miss Granger and Miss Greengrass could assist you."
"Perhaps in the future, sir," Harry considered as his eyes roamed around, searching for a chair on which he could sit. "Would you mind conjuring me a seat, Professor?"
"I actually wanted to see you conjure one yourself, my boy. I wanted to see how far you've come in my favourite subject," Dumbledore said kindly, yet the boy's expression caused him to frown. "Is everything alright?"
Letting out a deep and slightly frustrated breath, Harry turned his eyes to meet the sky-blue eyes of the elderly Headmaster. "I'm afraid I… I no longer have a wand, Professor."
"Truly?" Albus murmured, his features darkening considerably as he leaned forward at the news, steepling his hands upon the desk, his wand resting next to them. After a few seconds he grabbed his wand and conjured a comfortable seat with nary a flick of his wrist, a seat - it was more akin to a throne, really - upon which Harry immediately sat. "We had figured that we couldn't find your wand because it had retracted into your holster. It is enchanted to summon your wand if you lose consciousness, is it not?"
Harry simply nodded.
"What happened to your wand, Harry?"
"Corban Yaxley snapped it when I refused to give them the prophecy willingly."
"You heard it, then?" Dumbledore inquired.
"I did," Harry affirmed.
"I'm sorry I kept-"
"No. Don't be sorry, Professor. This, all of this, would have been for nought if I heard it earlier. Snape-"
"Professor Snape."
"Old habits die hard, sir," Harry immediately responded with a cheeky grin. "Professor Snape deemed me capable enough to hold secrets from most people, so I heard it at the perfect moment."
"I'm aware. Thank you for your understanding Harry," Dumbledore said with a sigh as he leaned back on his seat. "I'm aware you also know it was Severus who relayed the prophecy to Voldemort, ultimately condemning your parents."
Harry simply nodded once more.
"Your capacity for forgiveness is extraordinary, my boy."
"I am simply more understanding than most, Professor. I know that Professor Snape made an error and never wanted my parents to die. This doesn't mean I will run around forgiving everyone, for some are beyond forgiveness and redemption," Harry said with an air of finality in his words and Dumbledore smiled.
"I know, my boy. You are far stronger, and better equipped in that regard than I ever was," the Headmaster said and carried on the conversation before Harry had a chance to dispute his words. "As for your wand. It seems that it broke before your fight with Tom. How did you fight him, then?"
Harry went on to explain what had happened in the Hall of Prophecies, and how he had managed to steal Lucius' wand, destroying Yaxley's in the process. Dumbledore's expression shifted from amused to awe.
"To be able to fight against Tom with a wand that is not yours… You are an extraordinary wizard, Harry."
"I try my best Professor," Harry said, not bothering to deflect and deny the compliment - a habit that Daphne had spent almost every etiquette lesson they had shared attempting to drum out of him.
"It seems that getting you a new wand will be our first order of business then," Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully as he once again fell back into his seat. "While I respect Ollivander deeply, I doubt there is a wand in his store that will match you and I know that he has stopped issuing custom wands."
Harry froze.
"Perhaps, Alexander might have the means of procuring you a suitable wand. Wand crafting methods in Greece are most magnificent," the Headmaster continued wistfully. "Unless you have decided to remain in Britain for the summer?"
"No sir. I will go. I would be a fool to pass such an opportunity," Harry admitted.
'Snape would enjoy this admission, I'm sure.'
"Excellent!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "We will find a substitute wand for you until you find your match. I believe young Sirius has access to his family's legacy wands."
"I do as well, Professor."
Dumbledore stayed silent before a small smile blossomed on his face. "You are, of course, correct. Occasionally forgetting things is a perk of old age, I'm afraid. I will leave that discussion to you and your godfather."
Harry nodded graciously as he got the - unnecessary, in truth - confirmation that his godfather was well. He wasn't all that worried, his friends and faculty were far too chipper to be hiding a death of one of their own.
"On the subject of your godfather, my boy," Dumbledore spoke up again, taking him out of his musings. "I have finally gathered all the necessary documents to push for his trial. The final piece of that particular puzzle, was of course-"
"Voldemort. You waited for him to announce himself before you pushed for Sirius."
"Indeed," the Headmaster said with a proud smile. "Cornelius was far too inflexible to push around. Honestly, I was afraid he would try to let the Dementors kiss Sirius like he did to Barty. Now that Voldemort is back on the front page of everyone's Daily Prophet, Fudge has literally lost everything keeping him in power. His foolish attempt to ruin our combined reputation has backfired rather spectacularly," he continued, sliding Harry a recent copy of the Daily Prophet.
Lords Greengrass, Abbott, Macmillan
and Regent Longbottom condemn Fudge!
'The worst failure to ever plague Magical Britain,' said Augusta Longbottom!
Harry eyed the title with unveiled amusement. "He really hit rock bottom, didn't he?"
"He has. He also hasn't stopped begging me to help him salvage his position," Dumbledore said with almost equal mirth, causing Harry to snort.
"Right," the boy said with a shake of his head. "And the trial? When will it happen?"
"I expect sometime during summer. I'm sorry you'll miss it, but I doubt either you or Sirius would rather postpone it."
"No, it's perfect. Long overdue," Harry conceded. His eyes glistened slightly. "That means I will be able to live with him?"
"Ah. I'm delighted to know that I'm not the only one of us forgetting you are a Lord of the Wizengamot," the older wizard exclaimed jovially. "You can go wherever you want Harry and no one will stop you. Although I would implore you to exercise extreme caution," he added with a small smile. "But, even if you weren't an adult, I wouldn't let you suffer the Dursleys for another summer, failed blood wards notwithstanding."
Harry nodded and the pair remained in silence for some moments before Dumbledore tentatively spoke.
"Would you like to say goodbye to them at least?"
Somehow, Harry knew that question would come. Thus, he was able to have a definite answer the moment the question was made.
"Yes. I will visit them before I leave for Greece. I think I would like to get some answers from them."
Dumbledore smiled.
"I doubt I will ever forgive them," Harry quickly added, his back itching as long forgotten events tickled his senses. "But I will speak with them."
"I couldn't ask for more."
Headmaster and student remained silent after those words, both thinking of their own things in companionable silence.
A brief thought of equality between them passed through Dumbledore's head and his twinkling blue eyes turned towards the Sorting Hat, sitting on a shelf near his desk. He smiled.
"Professor," Harry started, pulling Dumbledore's gaze to him.
"Yes, my boy?"
"I was a Horcrux, after all."
Dumbledore's smile faded as he watched in shock. "You know."
"I do," the boy conceded with a nod of his head.
"You said you were. Are you not any longer?" Dumbledore inquired hungrily, his heart soaring.
"That's right. I am no longer a Horcrux."
The venerable Headmaster exhaled the breath he never realised he held and he sagged back in his throne like chair, his head hanging back as he stared at the ceiling.
"I am so, so happy, my boy. I truly am. You have no idea how long I have spent trying to find a way to rid you of that scar…"
Harry remained silent as he noticed a tear rolling down Albus' eye.
"Fourteen long years I have tried to rid you of it, exhausting every single possibility along the way. There was a way for it to be removed… To be struck down by Voldemort's own Killing Curse and even that would be a gamble. I refused to accept such a gamble…"
"I let it go myself," Harry interjected, causing Dumbledore to sit up sharply. "Well, kind of," he continued, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "The spell I used there. It backfired."
"What did you use, Harry?"
"It is a family spell. I can only vaguely speak around the subject, with but a few specifics," Harry said, trying to figure out how to best explain what he had used exactly. "It was soul magic, offensive soul magic. I cast it successfully, but it backfired. You see, it doesn't exactly miss. I used it on Voldemort, but it also registered the scar."
"You got hit by that spell. It damaged the Horcrux," Dumbledore breathed out as he rubbed his head.
"Yes. It weakened him enough to destroy him," Harry said with a sad smile.
"Him? The Horcrux had a consciousness?" The Headmaster inquired sharply but Harry simply stood straight.
"He did," the boy replied with that same smile as he straightened out his robes. "I assure you, he no longer exists. But that whole situation is something I would like to keep to myself. I feel I deserve a single event to call solely my own."
Dumbledore looked at Harry's eyes intently, trying to decipher what those words said but he quickly figured the boy was completely sincere. There was no trace of dark magic from the scar and it had already started fading somewhat.
That, and the fact that Harry claimed that the Horcrux had an identity led him to believe that something significant had happened during Harry's coma. A small smile came over him as he decided to let the matter rest.
He trusted his charge.
"Before you leave, I want to ask one more thing of you," Dumbledore said as he carefully grabbed his wand.
"Yes, Professor?"
"Please," he said as he tentatively extended his wand towards the young Potter, holding it by the tip as he did so. "Take this wand and tell me how it feels."
Harry's eyebrows shot up as he examined the worn wand closer. The wand was extremely long - if Harry were to guess, it was around fifteen inches long in length, but was otherwise largely devoid of features and decoration. Tentatively, he took a hold of the wand and his eyes bulged.
When he first touched his beloved holly wand, he had felt an indescribable warmth shooting up his body. His wand had felt great, warm, it had felt right.
Dumbledore's, however… The wand felt cold. Not in the way dead wands or incompatible wands felt. It felt like a deathly cold, like someone walking over his grave, its chill creeping up Harry's fingers, threatening to engulf him. What was even more baffling, however, was the simultaneous comfort he felt from it. If his holly wand had felt right, then this wand felt perfect.
"It's cold, sir."
"Cold?"
"Yes, but a comforting cold. I can feel the power from it, Headmaster."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he took back his wand.
'Soon.'
"Have a nice trip back home, Harry. We will stay in touch."
"Thank you, Professor. Have a nice summer."
With those final words, Harry exited the headmaster's office, shaking his head of the strange request and the feeling the wand had given him before he started walking without a particular purpose, moving down the floors of the ancient castle.
Everyone who saw him walk by, would be convinced that Harry had somewhere to be, urgently.
The truth of the matter was that Harry felt the strange impulse to visit a place he hadn't been to since the end of his second year. He did not know why, he simply decided to trust his instincts.
After a few minutes of manoeuvring through stairs and corridors, he barged inside the girls bathroom on the second floor. Much to his relief, Myrtle was nowhere to be seen.
$Open,$ Harry hissed absentmindedly and made to jump when the sinks slid apart, but something in the back of his mind held him back. He looked at the hole with a puzzled expression before hissing once more.
$Shorten.$
Something within the dark, bottomless pit that was the pipe seemed to shift before Harry jumped with a shrug, casting an Impervious Charm all over his body as he did.
An incredibly short amount of time later, he found himself landing in the middle of the pit of rodent bones, in the exact spot he found himself the first time around.
He started walking again, all the while trying to figure out why Slytherin had decided to give the pipe the option to become shorter. He imagined that the founder of the House of Snakes would give the pipe stairs, or even an elaborate, yet primitive elevator system based on magic.
$Open,$ he hissed again when he found himself faced with the circular door that guarded the main chamber. He had no idea how his legs carried him that far. He had started thinking about the Chamber again and suddenly he found himself within it.
Harry froze, never even noticing himself passing by pipes, the shed skin of Slytherin's beast or even by the caved-in section that Lockhart had caused. His eyes narrowed and he slowly tried to summon his wand, only to find nothing coming out of the holster.
"Bloody instincts…" Harry grumbled as he sourly started walking towards the massive statue, not even sparing a glance towards the still pristine corpse of the basilisk.
$Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!$
As Harry expected, the mouth of the statue opened…
And nothing happened.
$Stairs,$ he hissed by instinct and he - again - froze, trying to figure out what was happening. He figured he was under some form of compulsion charm, yet he felt nothing probing his mind.
The moment he hissed the command, a massive spiral staircase rose from the pool in front of the statue all the way to the open maw of the founder and Harry started climbing with a shrug.
'Can't fight what I don't know.'
Finally, he reached his destination, finding himself in a long hallway. At the far end he saw an old and plain wooden door, much like the doors of the Hogwarts classrooms. The hallway had a number of holes - perfectly sized for a grown basilisk to move through comfortably - along its walls and ceiling, ground smooth by the basilisk's scales.
His legs carried him further down the hallway, until he stopped in front of the wooden door.
It swung open before he could touch it and the first thing he saw was a massive, life-size portrait of an old man with emerald green robes.
"Finally. I started believing that my compulsions woven within the wards had finally failed after all this time," the portrait spoke in a regal voice, his emerald green eyes gazing straight into Harry's own.
"I… Who…" Harry tried to speak as his brain connected the dots. Even as he realised exactly who the portrait was, he found himself unable to form coherent speech. "What?!"
"Welcome!" The portrait boomed with an awfully heavy amount of grandiosity. "To my chamber!"
Harry Potter had lived through many things; too many for most wizards to handle. He had seen a dead man returning to life through a dark ritual using a hand, old bones, his blood and a disfigured baby. He had fought a swarm of dementors as a mere child while time travelling, attempting to save the life of what remained of his family. He had killed a basilisk as old as Hogwarts and bigger than what his worst nightmares could conjure, armed with only a sword that had looked like a toothpick in comparison. He had burnt a man to death with his own hands without even using his own magic, all in order to save a stone that gifted immortality and the ability to create true gold to its user. He was the focus of a prophecy and had been the vessel for part of a soul, something that happened because he was the only known wizard in history to ever survive the Killing Curse.
Yet he had never, ever in his life expected to experience Salazar Slytherin himself looking at him with such boundless mirth in his eyes.
'I guess this is my life, huh,' he thought in resignation as he slid down into a sitting position upon the floor.
X
"Any news on the Weasley twins?" Daphne lightly asked as she lounged in the confines of the Slytherin common room. Around the table they occupied, Tracey, Blaise and Astoria were sipping tea, biding their time until the bells of Hogwarts announced their collective departure.
"Oh yes," Astoria gushed with sparkling eyes. "It's pretty confidential still, but they will open a joke shop to rival Zonko's. It is located in the middle of Diagon Alley and its opening is scheduled sometime during mid July."
"Really? They managed to afford something like this?" Blaise asked with a raised eyebrow.
"They had funding from a trusted source," the younger Greengrass sibling said with a smirk, waving her hand as if it was nothing of consequence. At the same time, her hazel eyes locked with her older sister's and the smirk widened.
"Of course," Daphne drawled. "It's pretty safe to assume you will partner with them as soon as you finish Hogwarts."
"Yep," the girl replied, popping the p in a loud manner.
"As long as you don't copy their dramatic exit," Tracey commented lightly, her own smirk rivalling the younger Slytherin's.
Daphne daintily took a sip of her tea, savouring the taste of her favourite Earl Grey blend. "I believe there is nothing else to report, is there?"
"Your night time escapade made sure of that," Tracey said with a scoff. "Nothing except that was reported to our network. That, and Malfoy getting violently turned down by Parkinson after pushing himself on her."
Daphne's pretty face was immediately marred with a frown. A while ago she had asked the members of the Devil's Snare to gather any kind of information regarding Pansy Parkinson, in hopes of finding changes to her attitude and character. However, everything had remained more or less the same as before.
She hung out with Malfoy and his cronies, she was still unbearable and still a blood purist who believed that every man and every woman with less than the purest blood was beneath her.
A couple of members, however, commented that some instances of her supporting those ideals seemed oddly forced and awkward but it was an extremely rare occurrence. While it appeared insignificant on the surface, it was everything but when it came to Pansy Parkinson. Every day of her life since their fallout during second year, she had carried that attitude everywhere. It didn't sit well with Daphne that the facade had started cracking now.
"That's fine, I guess," Daphne said non-committedly. "Has anyone seen Harry yet?"
Blaise quietly chuckled when he saw the mischievous grins Astoria and Tracey said when Harry was mentioned.
"Sue Li reported seeing him walking down the second floor hallway, outside Myrtle's bathroom."
"Well then, I'd best head off," Daphne immediately responded and stood up.
"Can't wait to give him your gift, huh," Tracey quipped with a knowing expression.
She didn't expect Daphne to respond so confidently.
"Of course I can't. It's a gift for my boyfriend, after all," she replied with a great amount of pride and a glowing smile.
X
"Why am I here?" Harry questioned, still sitting on the floor with his back to the wall.
"Because I wanted you here. If I expected you to come of your own accord, I would spend my immortal life waiting," Slytherin answered lightly. "You are my Heir, yet you never visit. It's a sad thing, really, knowing that my own kin, my flesh and blood holds me in such low regard," the portrait lamented with the saddest performance Harry had ever seen.
"You're making no sense," Harry deadpanned, not even registering the implications of the founder's words.
"I do make sense, you're just too ignorant to see it," the portrait retorted, the fake tears suddenly vanishing from the paint. "You're the son of Lily Evans, a muggleborn witch that could trace her lineage to a squib Slytherin ancestor who was, coincidentally, my niece, Salvia Slytherin."
"No," Harry immediately responded.
"Let me finish, child," Slytherin chided before continuing his tirade. "Now, that whole ordeal is not enough to classify you as a Slytherin. You cannot be recognized, despite the fact that you are obviously a Parselmouth. Your ancestry might be able to get traced back to my brother and I, but you have no right to my House. You can only be accepted as a child of House Slytherin. Nothing more."
"Then… Why are you telling me all of this?" Harry asked with narrowed eyes.
"Because I want you to become the Lord of my House," Slytherin proudly announced, eliciting no reaction from the young boy.
"I'm already busy as the Lord of House Potter and the Heir of House Black. And as you said, I have no right to Lordship."
"You have no right by blood, but you can still earn the right by conquest."
Harry's eyes, if possible, narrowed further.
"You are a much more capable candidate than my legitimate heir. If you kill him, you will become the Lord by right of conquest."
"You want your heir to die?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Don't you? Tom Riddle is a foul human being with a silver tongue. When I first met him, I was overjoyed," Slytherin said with a sour expression. "He was a bright - brilliant, even - child. Full of kindness and virtue. He was a worthy lord. A child loved by anyone and everyone, and who himself loved strongly, albeit rarely."
"That is certainly not the Tom Riddle I know. He wasn't that even at sixteen years old," Harry said sceptically.
"I didn't finish, boy," Slytherin remarked with a raised eyebrow. "He had his flaws. His accidental magic, as he himself admitted, was of the violent kind. Control of the mind and pain were the first things he ever controlled. It was not out of pure malice, oh no. He was an abused child. He knew he was special, that he was better but as it seems, even in the modern days muggles remain muggles," Salazar spat hatefully with a contorted expression, which was almost immediately smoothed out. "Always wary of what they don't know, always fearful of power. It seems to be their instinct to subdue what is stronger than they but that, perhaps, is the nature of all human beings. As for Riddle, he wanted revenge, but he never went far enough to kill. A lesson in respect and fear was the only thing he coveted, if only to secure peaceful days for himself."
"That is not how he turned out," Harry, rather unhelpfully, pointed out.
"I know," the founder admitted with a heavy sigh. "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. For Tom, who was oppressed for the entirety of his childhood, power was as potent as the deadliest poisons and twice as addictive as the greatest medicines. What was originally a kind soul, turned into a being who coveted power above all else and used all means necessary to achieve it. But he still had his humanity. His only saving grace was his very own human nature…"
Harry noticed the countenance of the talkative founder shag, and for a moment he seemed that he aged fifty years further.
"Alas, even his humanity was sacrificed in order to achieve immortality."
"What?!" Harry hissed. "He sacrificed his humanity with his first Horcrux?"
"His first? Did he make more?" Salazar asked, his eyes wide from the shock.
"At least three," Harry nodded solemnly.
"Don't tell me he actually made seven of them! That fool! I warned him, he would destroy himself trying to make seven Horcruxes! With his method, even one would be suicide!" Slytherin roared in anger and sparks appeared around the portrait.
"You are a portrait, you can no longer do anything about it," Harry said, resigned. The mere thought of Riddle having seven Horcruxes hurt his head and he didn't want to think about it. Instead, he latched onto something else Slytherin had said. "What do you mean, his method? How many are there?"
"I will warn you that this is not a thing you should delve into but you cannot avoid it if you are to face him," Slytherin muttered as his rage subsided. "He intended to follow the method of Herpo, the original creator of the Horcrux ritual. And he did. He sacrificed a part of his being along with a human sacrifice. He wanted the ritual to be strong and potent. Thus, he committed an atrocity," he said with a grimace. "He strung a girl about, feeding her false promises and sweet words. He manipulated her into loving him," a mirthless chuckle followed his words. "Myrtle Warren indeed, loved him to the ends of the earth. She was willing to do anything, including sleeping with him. A poor, uneducated Muggleborn girl was the victim of his manipulations, manipulations which ended with him taking her purity before using my own familiar to murder her!"
Sparks once again showered the floor under the portrait.
"He completely butchered his humanity, sacrificing the purity of love and his humanity, along with the girl that loved him. All in order to become immortal. Despite my protestations, I was powerless to stop him, for the sacrifice I made for my eternal life denies me that chance."
Harry processed every bit of information eagerly but his thought process came to a halt.
"Wait. Eternal life?"
"Didn't you figure it out already?" Slytherin asked with a raised eyebrow. "If so, I shall educate you. I, too, am a Horcrux."
Harry went completely still and silent.
"Not only me. Rowena, Helga and Godric are also Horcruxes. Anchored to four portraits in Hogwarts for all eternity."
"How?" Harry whispered, his mind reeling.
"Our method was not inhumane, unlike the usual Horcrux ritual. Our purpose in mind was to defend the Keep of Hogwarts, and only we were able to truly do so. Thus, when death came to each of our doorsteps, we sacrificed what remained of our lives and our freedom in order to conduct the ritual."
"That makes no sense. You sacrificed your lives for immortality?" Harry asked incredulously.
"We gave up our physical lives. Unlike normal Horcruxes, there is no possibility of returning to our physical body. That is the life we gave up. As for the freedom aspect, we gave up the right to involve ourselves with anything regarding the students of Hogwarts, except our descendants.
"Godric has no descendants as he died childless. The Bones are clueless of their Hufflepuff ancestry and have long since been denounced. The Smiths know of their Hufflepuff ancestry but they are so far away from Helga's line that they are not even considered. Rowena's ancestry died with Helena and you know about me. Our only other reason to exist is to defend Hogwarts in her time of need, which is still yet to come after so many aeons."
"Then… How did you involve yourself with me? Am I not too far off the main Slytherin line?"
"You are Godric's heir, by right of his sword," Slytherin calmly said and immediately raised his hand to stop Harry's response. "Don't ask me how or why, for that you must ask the clown in red."
Harry's eye twitched.
"And thus, we have arrived to the reason I have called you here," Slytherin continued. "You are to find the other three founders, hidden within Hogwarts. When you do so, you will achieve what no one else has achieved before you."
"Why? Can't I just, I don't know, be normal for a bit?" Harry snarked. "I have prophecies about me, a crazy Dark Lord trying to kill me, a family legacy that cannot be carried and now even the fucking founders of Hogwarts have plans for me? Can I not catch a single break?"
"No. You cannot," Slytherin bluntly stated, ignoring Harry as he groaned into his hands. "You are destined for greatness and you cannot avoid it. We only wish to help you with your purpose."
"Is that all? May I escape this interlude on my last day at Hogwarts?" Harry said, utterly defeated and completely unwilling to think about it further.
"You may," Slytherin conceded. "If you seek counsel in the future, feel free to join me here, in the Chamber. Also, please don't forget to make use of the basilisk of mine that you slew."
Harry's eye twitched again. He was not a fool; he would, of course, make use of the resources within the chamber. "It was nice meeting you, Lord Slytherin."
Salazar laughed. "I am no longer a Lord, dear boy. You may call me Salazar."
"Thank you, Salazar," Harry said with a nod before turning to leave. He immediately decided that calling the founder Salazar was extremely uncomfortable.
Before he reached the door, a sudden question popped into his mind. "I need to ask. Why did you decide to just… shorten the jump to the chamber? Couldn't you just make it have stairs on command?"
Much to Harry's amusement, Salazar's eyes took a murderous glint and a vein throbbed on his forehead.
"Ask the hairy mudblood when you see him! And never ask me again!"
The impossibly loud shout of Slytherin reverberated around the walls of the cavernous chamber and caused Harry to wince.
X
Harry eventually found his way back up to Myrtle's bathroom. Without the influence of Salazar's compulsions, he had to really try in order to find out how to exit the chamber without the aid of Fawkes.
In the end, the simple command of 'exit' proved to be enough as he was suddenly sucked back up the pipe he had entered through. That same pipe spat him out from the centre of the sink formation and he landed unceremoniously upon the damp floor.
"Bloody piece of-" Harry muttered as he tried to dry himself with wandless magic.
Of course, he failed.
As he finally stood up and cracked the knots of his neck, his eyes landed upon his favourite Slytherin who was frozen outside of the bathroom, looking at him with wide eyes.
"Daphne?" He asked tentatively as he felt his embarrassment intensifying.
"Why did you get spat out of the sinks? More importantly, how?!" The female Slytherin blurted out as she turned her body fully to face him.
"I, uhh…" Harry tried, rubbing his head sheepishly. "I mean, I haven't told you about it yet."
"Told me about what, exactly?" she asked, delicately raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
"Well… Come," Harry eventually said after a few moments of consideration. Daphne simply followed his words and walked up to him, standing directly next to him. More than that, she ended up extremely close to him, their shoulders barely touching each other. While it was not exactly proper, Harry smiled slightly.
"And this is…?" Daphne inquired, motioning towards the sinks. Harry cleared his throat with a cough next to her.
$Open.$
Goosebumps broke out on Daphne's skin as he spoke in the serpentine tongue, and she couldn't help but shiver. Almost immediately, the sinks started separating once more until a huge, dark pipe was visible between them.
"This…"
"Is the Chamber of Secrets, yes," Harry confirmed with a nod. "Its entrance, at least. I was down there, what you saw was me getting ejected."
"Surely Salazar Slytherin wouldn't be so… uncultured," Daphne tentatively said, as if she was afraid Salazar himself was listening. "There's surely some sort of proper exit with stairs."
"According to him, no, there isn't," Harry said absentmindedly, as if he thought nothing about having confirmation from Salazar Slytherin himself. Daphne stared at him incredulously and tried to speak but she was interrupted by Harry's musings. "Apparently, Godric Gryffindor is to blame and I am to ask him myself when I find him. Or that's who I think the term 'hairy mudblood' refers to," the boy continued, nodding to himself as if he had solved some eternal mystery.
Not giving Daphne a chance to speak, he hissed once more.
$Close.$
Her skin broke out into goosebumps once more and her shiver was even more pronounced as the primitive, wild magic incurred by the use of Parseltongue invaded her body. The sinks retracted to their original position and Harry turned around to exit the bathroom.
"Harry Potter, stop moving at once!" Daphne growled as she marched up to him. "Do you mean to tell me that you spoke with Salazar Slytherin? And he told you to find Godric fucking Gryffindor!?"
Harry was taken aback by her near-hysterical state so he spoke to her with the most eloquent of words he could think of.
"Yeah?"
That response earned him a cuff to the back of his head by Daphne's hand.
"Can your life be at least a little bit normal?" the girl lamented with an exaggerated groan.
What took Harry by surprise, however, was the amount of trust she put into his words. He was no fool, he knew that he had said the most outlandish things in quick succession, things no normal wizard studying in the hallowed grounds of Hogwarts would ever consciously say. Daphne simply trusted him enough to take his words as gospel.
His heart fluttered and he acted on impulse, grabbing her by the waist, eliciting a yelp of surprise.
His lips locked with hers before she had a chance to respond.
He immediately felt the taste of cinnamon on his tongue once more and his nose was assaulted by the soft vanilla scent that never seemed to leave his beloved. It was a combination that he had not once forgotten, ever since she kissed him in front of the Veil of Death and it was something he had desperately wanted to feel again.
In hindsight, the second kiss was no less strange than the first. From kissing in front of the Veil of Death, deep within the Department of Mysteries, to kissing in front of the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets situated within the girls bathroom - it wasn't much of an improvement.
Despite the circumstances, their kiss felt as perfect as the first time, if not better - and they didn't have an impending fight hanging above their heads this time. They could properly savour the feeling of each other, a chance they both intended to exploit.
Daphne immediately surrendered to his initiative, fireworks exploding in her chest with the same intensity as him. Her hands snaked around his neck as he firmly held her from her waist and they deepened their kiss.
Lost in their emotional dance, they both failed to notice a ghost with large, round glasses hovering inches away from their interlocked faces.
"You shouldn't do this here," the ghost loudly said, frightening the two teenagers to their core, causing them to jump as far away from each other as possible.
Both of them sported scarlet faces, a testament to the exertion and passion they had displayed.
"Myrtle!" Harry yelled as he finally realised what was happening. "What are you doing?"
"What am I doing? You are the one making me jealous in my own home," the ghost said sulkily. "You forgot all about me for your little blondie here."
"Excuse me?" Daphne responded indignantly.
Her red face greatly diminished the effect of her words.
"You heard me. If you want Harry, at least claim him away from me," Myrtle said with a broken voice as tears ran on her ethereal face. Before either of them could answer, she let out a loud wail and disappeared inside a cubicle, splashing water everywhere around her.
Daphne shook her head and looked at Harry with amusement dancing in her eyes.
"Harry bloody Potter. Fighting Dark Lords, mythical creatures, talking to dead Founders and the love interest of ghosts and witches alike," she said jokingly. "Maybe the love interest of a couple wizards, too," she added with a wink, causing Harry to groan.
"Please no, I can barely handle you," the boy said as they both exited the bathroom. His words caused Daphne to erupt into laughter.
'What a melodic laugh she has. I could listen to that every day,' an errant thought reappeared in his head - a thought that had been a constant interruption for the last six months.
"Of course, it's hard to handle me. I'm the best, after all. A queen made of ice," she retorted proudly with an upturned nose.
Harry chuckled and chose to say nothing more in order to simply enjoy her company as they walked side by side.
"I came to find you in order to give you something," Daphne suddenly said as they were climbing the stairs towards the Fat Lady together.
"Oh? What is it?" Harry asked curiously.
Instead of giving a verbal response, Daphne simply pulled a notebook from the inner pockets of her robe.
It had roughly the same size as a common diary, but its cover was golden with multiple lion engravings. The front side of the cover also featured a large phoenix carrying a shield split into four parts upon its back and a banner held within its talons, also in gold. The words 'Ex Cineribus Exoriemur' could be seen on the banner. It was the Potter family symbol.
"What… What is this?" Harry asked as he took the diary in his hands. The moment he turned his eyes to his friend - girlfriend? Were they a couple now? - he saw her holding a diary of equal size as his.
Her diary was ice-blue in colour with serpentine engravings upon it. In place of his own coat of arms, a large diamond shape could be seen. Within the circle, a tree that Harry recognized as the Tree of Life was depicted with a banner spread out below the diamond, with the words 'Fidelitas est vera virtus' engraved across it.
"They are diaries I made for us," Daphne said with a bright smile. "These two are connected by some charms I know."
Harry's eyebrow rose in response to her very vague explanation.
"The bottom line is that we can communicate with them," she said with a roll of her eyes at his response and she gestured between the gold and ice-blue diaries. "Whatever you write in your copy will appear on mine and vice-versa."
"Seems like you cannot afford to wait for Hedwig to deliver you my mail," the boy said with amusement colouring his voice.
For his troubles, he got the back of his head cuffed once more.
"Shut up. You don't have to tease me about it," she snarked in response and boldly hooked her arm around his. "If either of us send a message and the diary is closed, a chime will echo from it instead."
"You're not just impatient, you also want to break my important moments of silent contemplation!" Harry said in mock outrage and she pinched his arm.
"Prat. We're here," she said as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady who looked at them with a raised eyebrow.
"Should I ask how you know where the Gryffindor common room is?" Harry lightly said, not worried in the slightest.
"Contrary to popular belief, the locations of the common rooms are not secret. Only their interiors are - and that barely."
"Should I be scared?" Harry asked lightly.
"Maybe, maybe not. Who knows?" Daphne said airily as she started walking away. She turned her head toward him and winked. "See you at the Express, alright?"
"Alright," Harry said softly with a smile. When her retreating figure disappeared around a corner, he finally turned towards the portrait guarding the Gryffindor common room.
"Just come in, Mr. Potter," the Fat Lady said candidly and opened.
"Alright, Harry?" Neville asked when he saw the raven-haired wizard.
"Alright. How about you, Nev?"
"All is good. The others have all left for the courtyard," the round faced boy said as he stood up, answering Harry's unasked question about the whereabouts of their Gryffindor classmates.
The common room was oddly silent and deserted.
"That's good. It gives me a chance to talk with you," Harry said with a nod. "Just, give me a moment to gather some things."
"Alright, I'll wait," the boy said softly as he sat back on the couch.
Harry rushed to his dorm, not willing to waste any more time. The other beds were deserted. His bed was also tidy. He remembered Dumbledore telling him that Ron had gathered his things and packed them in his trunk while he was in the coma. He could only guess that the trunk was currently on the Express thanks to the intervention of the elves. The only things that remained were his still open family grimoire, his cloak and his map.
A small smile adorned his face as he saw his priceless possessions in front of him. He reverently folded the Cloak of Invisibility with the Marauder's Map within its folds. He quickly pocketed the bundle in the same pocket that housed Daphne's diary.
Thus, the only thing left was his grimoire. He knew that no one could touch it or even see it, so he wasn't worried about leaving it open upon his bed. He gingerly picked it up and caressed the open pages, which were both blank.
Under his gaze, words slowly formed in front of him.
'The loss of one's wand is a sad calamity to befall a wizard. The Potter family offers its condolences for your loss, young Peverell.'
Harry frowned. Peverell? Why did his family grimoire recognize a random name instead of his given? More importantly, if the grimoire no longer recognised him as a Potter, how could he even touch it, let alone use it?
'We are certain that you will not remain wandless for long. Until then, this grimoire can act as a minor spellcasting focus until you find a suitable substitute to accompany your endeavours. The spine of this tome is imbued with the essence of a griffon by utilising a heartstring. The pages are made of processed acacia wood and wandmaker Leonard Potter worked diligently to turn the tome into a minor focus. Use this gift wisely. Until next time, young Peverell.'
Harry's frown persisted as he mulled over the words of the grimoire. He decided that he would crack the identity mishap at a later date. With that thought, he turned towards the door of the dorm with his tome in hand.
The pages started flipping on their own as Harry gathered his intent.
"Aberto."
Much to his delight, the door swung open. He walked out of the room and raised his tome once more. The pages fluttered again.
"Colloportus."
The door was instantly locked shut and Harry walked down to the common room with a smile.
"Well, we need to hurry a bit," Harry said as he sat down opposite his friend. "First, I wanted to tell you about your wand for quite some time but never had the chance to do so."
"I know about my wand," Neville said with a tired shy. "Susan told me she noticed that it's not a match. It's my father's."
"Good, that's good," Harry said with a nod. "You need to get your own wand, Nev. You are really strong, the incompatible wand only serves to hold you back."
"I will do so during summer," the round-faced teen admitted.
"The other thing is the prophecy," Harry said abruptly, causing Neville to sit up straight. "I won't mince words. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him. Born as the seventh month dies."
"What…?" Neville asked as realisation dawned upon him.
"You were a potential candidate. Susan too," Harry said with a serious voice. "But… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal." Harry continued and pointed to his scar. "That's all Nev. This is probably why your family was targeted. I ended up being the one to bear the brunt of the prophecy, but you are entitled to know it. You deserved to know why."
Neville rose in silence, his eyes observing the void behind Harry. As Harry followed the movement, Neville's hand shot out. His eyes widened at the gesture and he returned the handshake. Much to his surprise, the handshake was extremely firm and spoke of Neville's resolve.
"Thank you for telling me. I will stand beside you. This is our fight," the formerly shy and timid boy said with the conviction of a man.
"I'm glad," Harry said honestly. "You ready to go?"
"Yeah."
X
"Well, this is comfortable," Daphne drawled as she found herself in a very full compartment inside the Hogwarts Express. She had settled between Harry and Susan, while Susan had Luna next to her. On the opposite side she saw Neville, Ron, Ginny and Hermione. The latter was busy trying to utilise spatial expansion charms with little success.
"We will be leaving in a bit to join the prefects, so don't worry," Ron tried to placate everyone. "Might as well do my final patrol, right?"
"Final?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah. I resigned," Ron said with a shrug. "It's not for me."
"Wow, what a shocker," Neville said with a snort, followed by low chuckles.
"You just shrink away from responsibility," Hermione said with a huff.
"No, I merely avoid it. 'Sides, you can't expect someone like me to be a leader to the students. I can't really apply strategy when dealing with ickle first years," Ron said with remarkable indifference. Their fifth year was an eye-opener to Ron who had started carving his own path and potential.
Suddenly, the compartment shrunk, causing them to yelp collectively and they ended up in compromising positions. Especially Daphne, who had ended up on Harry's lap to avoid being squished between bodies.
Remarkably, not only didn't she flush - she smirked when Hermione's scandalised gaze landed on her.
Soon after, Hermione rectified her mishap, returning the compartment to normalcy.
Daphne refused to return to her seat.
"Alright, we're off," Ron announced and pulled Hermione along despite her protests, the compartment door sliding shut behind them.
"Ron just pulled Hermione to do their duties and she was against it. What has the world come to," Ginny said with a chuckle.
"They just wanted to avoid the embarrassment," Luna said with her usual dreamy tone, eliciting more laughter from the group.
The train ride continued on as normal, with people leaving and returning. Plenty of conversations - mainly about the events of the Ministry - took place and Harry clarified many concerns and questions.
Slowly, the train reached London and everyone was restless to meet their relatives.
"Promise me you'll write," Daphne whispered to his ear as they got ready to exit the train.
"I will," Harry responded softly as he pecked her lips, causing her to smile brightly. Together they stepped on Platform 9 ¾. Daphne gave her hasty goodbyes as she rushed towards her family.
Harry's eyes locked with Cyrus and the elder wizard gave him a respectful nod.
"Boy!" a gruff voice was heard and Moody appeared next to him, followed by a shaggy - and massive - black dog. "You ready? You got a long summer ahead of you."
Harry nodded. "Might as well make the best of it."
"Do as you please, but don't forget-"
"Constant Vigilance!" Harry chorused the famed line of Alastor Moody.
The veteran auror scowled.
The dog barked loudly. It sounded oddly like laughter.
Harry simply smirked as he was whisked away by Moody's apparition.