When We Were Young

C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N

September 2nd, 1943

"Salazar. . ." Tom breathed out, paling as he realized exactly who he challenged.

"Me," Salazar deadpanned, petting Khoine's head to calm him down.

"I meant no disrespect-"

"You did," Salazar cut in, his right hand fingering the head of his cane, "but I'll excuse it. Although, a word of advise would be to always know the players on the board."

Tom nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line at the patronizing tone. "Is there any way for Harry to get in the dorm without being labeled as my consort?"

Salazar gave his heir an unimpressed look. "No."

"You're not asking the right questions, Tom," Harry cut in, his patience gone. After all, it was him that they were talking about, he should be able to put his two cents in. "Do the Slytherins have to know that Tom has a consort?"

Salazar's eyes shot over to look at Harry, an approving air around him. "Yes."

"Do the Slytherins have to know who Tom's consort is?" Harry pressed, leaning forward slightly in anticipation.

"No."

Harry threw Tom a smug glance, knowing that the older boy was put off with Salazar's attitude towards him.

It was nice to know that Tom's ego was being kept in check.

"But," Salazar continued, drawing the boy's attention to him once more, "once the Monarch and Consort enter the dorm, they will be marked, physically and magically. While you can hide the physical mark on your body with cloth, there is no way to hide the magical side of the mark. Even if you do choose to not tell the Slytherins who your consort is, Tom, they will know as soon as they see him."

The boy's hope deflated and they gave each other grim looks.

"So there's no way around it?" Tom asked, his brows furrowing.

"Of course there isn't. I am the one that made the rules of monarchy, after all," Salazar snorted, not feeling the least bit sorry.

Tom clenched his fists at Salazar's flippant behavior. "Why-?!"

"Because I want my heirs to have some sort of dignity!" Salazar snapped. "I don't want my line's reputation to diminish because some monarchs decided to use their dorm as a brothel!"

Both boys have to hold back from flinching at the harsh tone. A tense silence filled the hall before Salazar continued.

"If you want Harry to be able to enter these dorms, he must become your consort."

The boys dwelled on that in silence.

"What if-"

"No, Tom," Harry interrupted, twiddling with his collar. Tom let out a dismayed huff, not liking how everyone seemed to be interrupting him. "It's not a big deal to grumble over. You just go in and explore your dorm. I'll wait out here for you, okay?"

Tom was about to protest, but he didn't bother after he saw the determined look on Harry's face. He knew that there would be no convincing Harry after he set his mind on what he believed was right.

Tom nodded and turned to face the painting, throwing Harry one last glance as Salazar's portrait swung open and shut behind him.

Salazar and Harry studied each other, their similar green eyes and dark hair making them look like they were related.

"You're not a descendant of mine, are you?" Salazar asked, not liking the idea of two of his last descendants committing incest.

"No, I share no blood with you," Harry said, stuffing his hands into his tone pockets just to have some movement. "I'm actually one of Godric Gryffindor's descendants."