The next thing Harry was aware of was the low murmur of voices. He was lying on his stomach, on something soft and warm, and the burning pain across his back was gone. Cautiously he opened his eyes a slit and saw Snape and another man sitting in chairs a short distance away, before an empty fireplace.

Harry recognized the other man at once. His slender lanky build, thick dark hair and neatly trimmed beard…he had seen this man before in a vision or a memory or whatever it had been.

Salazar Slytherin.

Harry cleared his throat and sat up, realizing that he had been lying on a bed in the corner of the small room. “Sir?”

His voice came out sounding unusually small and weak. Harry immediately flushed with shame and tried to speak more forcefully. “Where are we? What happened?”

Snape and Salazar both came over to him. Harry was surprised when the Slytherin Founder actually knelt beside him and asked in a surprisingly gentle tone, “How do you feel, lad? You had some ugly wounds.”

There were a few twinges in his back when he moved, but hardly enough to be noticeable. His white shirt had been repaired, too, Harry noticed. The bloodstains and tears were gone. Harry smiled at the man, subconsciously responding to the warmth he could sense in Salazar. “I feel fine, sir. Thank you.”

He glanced up at Snape. The professor was not kneeling, as Salazar was, but he was standing close by and actually looked concerned.

“We are at Salazar Slytherin’s hunting lodge,” Snape answered. “Ironically, he appeared just as you were attacked and helped me to defeat the remaining bicorns. We were able to heal you with a combination of spells and medicinal potions that I always keep on me and then Salazar suggested that we come here to talk and allow you to recuperate.”

Salazar conjured a third chair to sit with the two before the fireplace. “If you’re feeling well, lad, why don’t you come and join us? We’ll have a bite to eat and then Severus can finish explaining how the two of you came to be searching for me.”

So they all went to sit in the chairs and Salazar summoned a house elf who brought them thick meaty sandwiches, bowls of stew, and glasses of wine. Harry didn’t think he’d ever eaten anything so delicious…except maybe the food at the Opening Feast every year when he’d just returned to school from a summer of near-starvation at the Dursleys.

Snape told him the tale of how he and Harry had been called to the past to try and resolve the rift between Salazar and Godric Gryffindor and then a long silence fell. Salazar gazed into the dead fireplace for a long time before speaking.

“We met at the Palazzo de Magic in Rome when we were nine…the other Founders and myself. We were the only students from Britain in our class. We were friends from the first day we met. We soon became even more. We were a family, brothers and sisters. I’ve lived with them almost every day of my life since then. When we fought and I left, I left a huge piece of my heart behind as well. I would like nothing better than to return to them. But I feel very strongly about not admitting Muggle-borns to the school. Their feelings are equally as strong. I don’t know how we can reconcile that.”

Harry looked at him curiously. Salazar Slytherin really didn’t seem to be the type of man he had expected him to be. Based on everything he had heard about him, and on the way the Slytherins now acted, Harry had assumed that Salazar was cold and heartless, blinded by prejudice and hatred.

But Salazar seemed to be kind and gentle, not the kind of person who hated others for no reason.

“Why do you feel so strongly against the Muggle-borns?” He asked softly.

Salazar sighed. “Both of my parents’ families were persecuted and killed by Muggles who were fearful of magic. They were the sole survivors. I grew up fearing and disliking Muggles. But as I grew, my friends and I occasionally had adventures that brought us into contact with Muggles and I began to see that not all of them were like that, and even to have some sympathy for those that were so frightened.”

“Later on, when Hogwarts became a reality, Godric and Helga tried to persuade me that teaching the Muggle-borns would be a step towards enlightening them, reaching out to one person and one family at a time and showing them that wizards are not monsters to be feared, but just people like them, with different talents and skills. They said it was the right thing to do, to help those children learn to control their magic, to reach their potential and to give them a better life. I still had doubts, but I allowed myself to be convinced.”

“We opened the school last fall with twenty-three students, seven of them Muggle-born. Of course those seven were terribly behind the others, but we all worked hard to help them catch up, especially Helga and Godric. And they all made a great deal of progress.”

Salazar was quiet again for a few minutes. “There was one little girl, Moira Stuart, who was particularly gifted. She was one of the young ones, only eleven, and tiny…she looked even younger. A pretty child with golden hair and blue eyes. She had strong magic, even at her age and mostly untrained you could sense it. But more, she had intelligence and ambition. I’ve never seen a child who worked harder, who had such determination to succeed. She was kind and sweet, too. Everyone at the school loved her. Even I was completely won over.”

His face grew hard. “And then she went home for the summer and did a cleaning spell to help her sister finish the chores. Some Muggles saw it and they killed her. They killed that beautiful little girl.”

He looked at Harry with haunted, angry eyes. “That’s why I believe we should never admit Muggle-borns again. It’s dangerous to them, even more than to us. I could not bear it if another child died because of us.”

“But think of the children whose lives you might save, perhaps have already been saved, because you brought them to Hogwarts,” Snape said softly.

Salazar and Harry both looked at him.

“What do you mean?” The Founder asked roughly.

“I mean the Muggle-borns who are in danger every time they cannot control a bout of accidental magic,” Snape answered. “They could just as easily become victims too. They need someone to teach them, to teach them control and to use their powers wisely. They need protection too. There may be a slight risk in bringing them to Hogwarts, but I believe they will be in even greater danger if you do not.”

Salazar stared at him for a long while before turning away. “I…I will consider what you’ve said.”

“Then that is all we can ask,” Snape turned to Harry. “I believe our work here is done. Shall we return to the castle and see about getting back to our own time?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir.”

They stood and shook hands.

“Thank you, sir, for helping to save me,” Harry told Salazar.

The great wizard smiled at him and said, “You are most welcome, young Harry. I was glad to be of assistance.”

He and Snape said farewell and Salazar advised them to walk to the edge of the forest surrounding his property to be out of range of his own anti-Apparition wards. They did so and as they reached the trees, Snape said to Harry, “You will need to take hold of my arm, Potter.”

Harry did so and just before Snape spun and took them back to the school, he looked back at the lodge and saw Salazar standing in the doorway, watching them. Harry waved and then everything was dark and he felt a terrible squeezing sensation. He couldn’t breathe and was beginning to panic…but then it was over and they were standing at the edge of Hogwart’s front lawn. Harry staggered, but Snape reached to steady him.

Harry looked at the Potions Master in surprise. “Thank you.”

Snape nodded curtly and led the way up to the castle.

Helga and Rowena met them in the entrance hall.

“Are you all right? Did it go well?” Helga asked eagerly.

Snape glowered. “Aside from your portkey malfunctioning and Potter almost succumbing to bicorn poisoning, I suppose you could say so.”

“Oh, we do apologise. Are you quite all right, dear?” Helga turned to Harry in concern.

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m fine now. Salazar helped Professor Snape to cure me.”

“You were able to meet with Salazar then?” Rowena asked.

“Yes, and while I do not know that he will return, I believe he is considering the possibility,” Snape told her. “And now Potter and I wish to go back to our own time, if you would be so good as to come to our aid.”

“Of course. We can never thank you enough for your help,” Helga said graciously.

“Yes, we are most sincerely grateful,” Rowena added.

“Then perhaps you would assist us in getting home?” Snape commented dryly, and Harry had to hide a grin at the professor’s snarkiness.

Rowena smiled and flourished her wand in a complicated series of twirls and swishes. Once again, everything swirled together and Harry felt as if he were falling from a tremendous height.

Then he and Snape landed together, in a pile on the cold floor of Snape’s office.

“It must be contagious,” the Potions Master grumbled as he climbed to his feet.

Harry gave him a curious look and Snape added, “The ‘landing like an ungainly elephant’ bit.”

This time Harry couldn’t hide his grin and though Snape snorted again, he didn’t seem angry. As he scrambled up from the floor, it occurred to him that he had never felt so comfortable around Snape before. He hoped it lasted.

The clock on the wall chimed and they both turned to see that they had returned at almost the exact moment they had left.

“Amazing,” Snape murmured to himself.

The damp chill in the air reminded Harry that it was wintertime again here and that he was shivering. Quickly he pulled his jumper from his pocket and enlarged it back to its normal size. As he tugged it over his head, he noticed that Snape was watching him with an odd expression…considering and cautious, but not hostile.

“Last night…or whenever it was that we were camping in that forest…I had some unusual dreams,” Snape said slowly. “They seemed to be scenes of your life.”

Harry felt himself turning red and he stared at the floor, waiting for Snape’s vitriolic jeers about how pathetically weak and spineless he was.

But it never came.

Instead Snape said quietly, “It would seem that I might have misjudged you, Potter.”

Harry raised his eyes, staring at him in shock.

Snape looked extremely uncomfortable, but he continued in the same neutral tone. “I also believe that I have seen some evidence that Umbridge is abusing you.”

“What?”

Snape reached for Harry’s right hand, turning it so the reddened scars were visible. His black eyes blazed. “Do you deny that she has used a Blood Quill on you?”

It seemed rather pointless, with the evidence staring them both in the face, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Snape sighed and released his hand. “Come, Potter. We are ending Occlumency early tonight and meeting with the headmaster. He has allowed that odious woman a great deal of power in an effort to avoid a confrontation with the Ministry, but he will never knowingly permit a student to be abused.”

“No! We can’t,” Harry protested desperately.

Snape arched an eyebrow and started to speak, but Harry rushed on.

“We can’t. If there’s a fight with the Ministry, Dumbledore might have to leave the school and we need him here. We can’t take a chance on…”

“Be silent, Potter,” Snape said firmly. “Even Fudge, as contemptuous as he is, cannot defend Umbridge using a dark object and physically abusing a minor child. Dumbledore will not be going anywhere. Umbridge’s days as a free woman are numbered, however.”

“I’m supposed to have detention with her tonight,” Harry murmured.

Snape’s lips tightened. “You will not be having any more detentions with that woman, Potter. Now come along.”

He swept towards the fireplace and took some Floo powder from a jar on the mantel. Harry followed him, feeling completely dazed and bewildered by this strange turn of events.