Dark

Chapter 8: Professor Salazar

Harry was doing okay with Slytherin. No one was especially nice to him but that was his fault for being scary. No one was especially mean to him either.

There were rumours that there was meant to be a portrait of Salazar somewhere in the dungeons but so far, he had no luck. Who would want to help him, after all?

In this particular instance, he wished that Salazar would let him in. The password had not been posted when he went out that morning and he had no way of getting in. He had tried 'Pureblood', 'Honour', 'cunning' and a million other words but absolutely nothing worked and no one seemed to be around.

In a last attempt, he tried speaking in Parseltongue. It was a last resort but it was worth a try. He needed to use the lavatory.

": Let me in. I need to use the toilet," he hissed.

He had been standing here for the last half an hour, cursing this entrance and only now did people decide to show up. He would be dumb to assume they didn't hear him.

": You speak the Noble Tongue of the Snake," a voice spoke from the wall wheee the entrance was meant to be. Harry turned to face if and, true to his assumptions, there stood Salazar in all his glory. He looked somewhat surprised but... relieved?

": Yes, Professor. May I enter?"

He seemed to have ignored him and started going on about 'an heir' and how 'there were many things to be taught'.

Harry was not listening at all. Once he was finally done, Harry asked one more time.

": Can I please be let through?"

There were gasps from behind him and judging by the amount of whispering, he had an audience.

": Of course, My Heir."

Harry pushed past the entrance and rushed to use the toilet. Once he was done, however, he was faced with a congregation of teenagers in an arrangement similar to the Wizengamot.

Thanks to his research, he knew exactly what this was but he never thought he'd see it so early.

In the front was a Sixth-Year Slytherin he knew as Amelia Rowle. She was quite intimidating and was a prefect so it would make sense for her to be Slytherin Princess and the second was Marcus Flint. The guy had a huge ego and was completely idiotic but as the Quidditch Captain, he had power.

"Heir Potter. It has come to our attention that certain abilities have been shown to fellow peers. Do you deny having said abilities?"

Harry smirked, "You've assembled the entire court to ask me that?"

Flint stood from his seat, "How did you know?"

"I know everything, Heir Flint."

Ignoring the egotistical statement, he continued, "Do you deny said abilities?"

"Define 'abilities'."

He was annoyed which meant it worked. Harry found that the best way to let people know you have the upper hand was to get them annoyed.

"Are you a Parselmouth?"

"Yes, Heir Flint. I hereby swear on my Life and Magic that I am the Heir of Slytherin and I, Harry James Potter, wish to challenge you for the role of Prince of Slytherin."

Before he knew it, the walls of the common room were temporarily enlarged, the furniture pushed aside and surprisingly, Professor Snape was there to monitor the fight.

He couldn't really do anything until one person yielded. Snape glared at Potter and signaled for the others to come into the sides so they didn't get caught in a crossfire.

Harry bowed and Flint bowed back. Harry respected Flint, other than Quidditch, he was a relatively nice guy. Too bad.

Harry turned his back to Flint. It would have seemed arrogant but to Harry, it was for the kid's own safety. He hadn't tested this new Magic to its maximum and, frankly, he didn't want to see it at its fullest just yet.

"Bombarda!" Marcus yelled at full force. He didn't want the kid to suffer for too long. He wasn't a monster.

Harry, wanting to show off just a bit, formed a sphere of darker magic around him and absorbed the spell. Magic swirled like a cloud in the sphere.

Onlookers gasped at the phenomenon.

The barely formed Bombardia was absorbed the sphere and it had no effect whatsoever. It was soon clear that this challenge was no joke.

"Expelliarmus!" Marcus yelled again.

"Itty, Bitty Flint," Harry sniggered, "I expected more for a Prince."

Harry hadn't even moved a muscle and Marcus fell to his knees. He couldn't use his magic. It was like his magical core had been drained and he felt useless without it. He didn't have anything to protect him.

"I thought at least the Slytherin Prince would use curses not taught at Hogwarts."

"Again," he chuckled, "I guess I was mistaken."

The room was silent and they all looked at Harry. Snape looked like he wanted to run and he was even paler than usual.

Harry finally turned and walked towards Marcus.

"Do you yield?" Harry asked smiling, his Killer-Curse green eyes smiling brightly.

Marcus breathed, a harrowing breath, like one taken after one cried their hearts out.

"You shot him in the side. Yes, he yields," came the shrill of the Princess, who had taken it upon herself to come to his aid.

"I'm satisfied," he told, as he looked towards Snape.

With those words, Snape took Marcus to the Hospital Wing and Harry's face turned emotionless as the Common Room back to normal with a click of his fingers.

He grabbed the book he intended to read and went to his dorm to have a rest. It was an... eventful day.

At least Dumbledore could be pleased with his new set of 'friends'.

Sorry for the short duel. I wanted to emphasize how powerful he was and there you go. First-year Prince of Slytherin. What do you think he should do?