The Legacy of Salazar

Legacy of Salazar

It didn't make sense.

Draco Malfoy rolled over in his four-poster, eyes shut tight, willing himself to sleep and yet—it didn't make sense. In all the commotion there'd been no opportunity for a private word with Merlin. Everyone had trudged back to the dormitories at an absurd hour for a bunch of school children. But though his eyes ached with tiredness and he felt exhaustion cling to his skin like a wet coat, his mind was alive.

Merlin had hung behind in the entrance hall to say goodbye to Silas and Florean Fortescue. Draco hadn't heard him come back yet, but then again Merlin did say something about needing a bath. But Merlin's absence wasn't what plagued his thoughts.

Dumbledore's explanation left much to be desired. It held implications and clever innuendos. His father always said the man had a silver tongue as cunning as any Slytherin. There was a reason Dumbledore was a political titan, Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock for the Wizengamot. So, Draco tossed and turned.

I have heard the full account of what happened down there – in other words, Dumbledore knew they had questions and he intentionally neglected to explain the finer details because you're children.

The large reward of house points was both a bribed apology and a distraction. As if he were truly sorry he couldn't be more specific, but Draco knew. By controlling the information, he controlled the conclusions the situation would create. His father did it all the time through the Daily Prophet.

In a somewhat unrelated matter, I must also inform everyone Lockhart will no longer be teaching—the subject change, the carless notice, the somewhat—the somewhat—how did Lockhart tie into this story? He wasn't the Heir of Slytherin, they would have announced that but how did he get sacked? And who was the Heir of Slytherin?

Draco rolled over again and realizing the futility shoved away his covers and drew back the hangings of his four-poster. The dormitory was dark. Someone snored away in their corner—Draco suspected either Crabbe or Goyle or both—but then a figure standing by the window made him realize he hadn't heard Merlin return.

The window faced into the bottom of the lake. It wasn't real glass, of course, an enchantment on the stone made the surface clear and smooth. He could just see a twinge of green shining through the darkened waters. Merlin stood there, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out into the watery depths. It looked like it was going to would take more than one bath to remove the black stain from Merlin's arm.

Draco shifted and as his bed gave a creak, Merlin cast a soft glance back.

"Sounds like you have questions," Merlin whispered, no doubt having heard him tossing and turning.

Draco got out of bed and joined him next to the window. He hesitated, staring at the shadow of a reed just visible in the water. "It just doesn't make sense. What happened down there?"

He turned to look at Merlin and found his friend gazing intently at him. Draco could see him considering his response, weighing what information to share and what to withhold. Then, he waved his hand toward the others and Draco felt a soft ripple of magic as gold glinted in Merlin's eyes.

"Even the Headmaster doesn't know what really happened," Merlin said. And he told Draco how the Dark Lord had controlled Ginny through the diary. Draco felt his insides clench and unwind, thick and hot. A diary belonging to one Tom Riddle—he could recall seeing the name before in his father's study. After all, his father would own an object like that. The Malfoy's had a secret passage beneath the drawing-room floor for items not meant for public display.

Draco chewed on his tongue, but the words were already forming in his mouth. "I think my father somehow slipped her that diary." Merlin didn't look surprised; rather, a look of resigned confirmation crossed his features.

"I don't know how or why." Draco took a slow breath, steeling himself. "But I can guess." He could see where this conversation was taking him, see himself going to Professor Snape—to the Headmaster and sending the Auror's after his parents. He recoiled against the very image of it behind his eyes, felt it like a suffocating weight on his chest. The sensation settled and with it the grim reality.

"I cannot betray my own family," said Draco, clenching his hands at his sides. "Anymore than I could betray you. I don't know why it's turning into either the Dark Lord or you, but I know I trust you. Perhaps it's because you already beat the guy twice. But, I cannot abandon my family. Even for you."

Still, Merlin didn't say anything. Draco felt a burst of anxiety and lost the careful calm he'd been desperately holding onto. "So what am I supposed to do? Because I'm floundering here, Merlin. I've never had to choose between what was right and loyalty to my family because they've always been one and the same. How do I help you and protect them, when I can't even figure out a way to talk to my father these days? What's the correct answer here?"

What was going on behind Merlin's eyes? They were equal parts present and far away as if the question that Draco posed somehow held greater implications. He didn't know what he expected, perhaps some long complicated answer or a stupid riddle that left him wrestling with his morals. He'd take anything. Merlin opened his mouth and then, paused.

"I think—you should come with me."

Without waiting for an answer, Merlin began to walk toward the door. He glanced once back at Draco to see that he was following, before continuing out the dormitory. Nonplussed, Draco grabbed his shoes and followed him.

Merlin didn't speak as they left the dungeons and scaled two floors. In the girl's lavatory, he uttered a soft hiss near the basin of sinks, and Draco knew exactly where they were going. He could hardly breathe. After all, he'd dreamed of entering the Chamber of Secrets ever since he'd first heard the story from his father.

He followed Merlin through the caverns until they reached an enormous hall, lined with columns until he saw the ancient statue standing the height of the space, but that's not where Merlin stopped. Instead, he went to an expanse of the wall on the left and hissed again.

Draco stared as a door emerged from the stone and slid open. Merlin gestured for him to go first, and though somewhat confused now, Draco stepped into the room. He saw the mosaic of fettered gold and crushed porcelain, and his breath caught in his throat as he recognized the face. He stared, heart thudding as Merlin entered the space and began a brief conversation in Parseltongue with the mosaic of Salazar Slytherin. Then, he turned to Draco and smiled.

"This is the true history of your house, the tradition, the honour. This is the why and the how." He put his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Take all the time you need."

And then Merlin strode out of the room. Draco watched for a moment as his friend crossed to the giant statue and leaned against one of the massive legs. Draco jerked his bead back to the Founder Salazar Slytherin.

"Listen here my young snake, for this is the legacy of which you are born."

And as Draco sunk to the stone to listen, Merlin began to hiss softly through the stone statue to the Basilisk that resided there.