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Chapter 23 - Ch.23

Harry stared at the portrait in shock, while the latter stared back curiously. For a moment, neither spoke.

It was the portrait that finally broke the silence.

"You aren't Riddle."

Harry shook his head, "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"A Potter . . . I don't suppose you've made any horcruxes, or anything of equal stupidity?"

Harry's expression morphed into one of confusion, giving Slytherin the answer he needed.

The portrait's eyes narrowed slightly as it stared down at Harry's robes.

"Why are you in Gryffindor robes?" the portrait hissed at him.

"It's my house, I have to wear my house colours."

The portrait hissed out a stream of curses in Parseltongue, many of which Harry had never heard before. After a minute or so Slytherin had calmed down enough to continue talking.

"I suppose you can't have it all." sighed Slytherin in distaste, "Let us forget that for now, and move on to the important things. Only an heir of mine can enter the chamber. Only direct descendants, or heirs of mine can speak Parseltongue. You're an heir of mine, aren't you?"

Harry nodded at the portrait, still not having said a word.

"You must be from a different side of the family than Riddle was. You have my wife's eyes, after all."

"They were my mother's eyes." said Harry quietly.

Slytherin nodded slowly, "Yes, she must have been a descendant of mine as well. You're only the second person I've ever seen in here, you know. She must have not known."

"I went to the wizarding bank, Gringotts, to get a heirship test." said Harry, "The goblin I talked to seemed to think that my mother, who was supposedly muggleborn, was a direct descendant of the squib line of Slytherin, making her a descendant of some people named Isolt Sayre and Martha Steward."

"Clever goblin. I was the first Parselmouth in all of known time, the ability is a hereditary one in my family. It is fairly common in the family from what I know; your mother must have been rather unlucky to have not received it."

The portrait paused in thought, rubbing his goatee slightly.

"Isolt Sayre . . . yes, it is possible, if your mother was indeed 'muggleborn', then perhaps that is the case."

"How do you know who Isolt Sayre is?" asked Harry curiously, getting over his slight fear of the situation, "Wasn't she born a long time after you lived?"

"She was." said Slytherin, "However, when Tom found this place in his fourth year, he tried to figure out how he was connected to me. He went looking through all known Parselmouths and descendants of mine, before he eventually discovered he was from the Gaunt line."

Harry nodded slightly, feeling more than slightly uncomfortable about discussing Voldemort as though he were a normal child.

"It's a shame your mother never found this place, although most of my descendants haven't either." said Slytherin quietly, "How is she?"

"Dead."

Slytherin's face fell, before asking "And your father?"

"Also dead. Never met either of them."

Slytherin's portrait nodded defeatedly.

"Riddle was the same, he never knew them, he was raised in an orphanage. Were you?"

Harry shook his head sadly.

"My mothers sister and her family raised me. They were probably as good as an orphanage, though."

"If you're comfortable with me asking, how did your parents pass?"

"Riddle killed them."

The study went eerily silent.

"Tell me everything."

Harry did. He told the portrait about how his parents died when he was a year old, how he was world famous for being the only survivor of the killing curse, and for stopping Voldemort. Of how he was horribly raised, and each of his three end-of-year adventures. He told the portrait about the world cup, the trip to gringotts, and him being a Mage.

In fact, the only thing he kept to himself was the dreams he had been having of Voldemort. He was not fully trusting of the portrait just yet, and these dreams seemed to be quite an advantage. He was fairly certain they could save him someday, and was not prepared to risk that for a painting he had just met.

As he spoke, Salazar would make a few comments here and there. As it turned out, Salazar Slytherin did not hate muggle borns, nor was he a dark wizard (although Harry wasn't certain about the last part just yet). When Harry had finished, Salazar sat in silence, seemingly gathering his thoughts. He eventually looked back at Harry, speaking quietly.

"You have been blessed with a gift many would kill to have, and have managed to find my chamber. As horrible as your life has been, it has forced you to grow up, to get stronger."

Harry nodded in silence, eyes not leaving the portrait.

"I must ask why you came here."

Harry gave the portrait a confused look, not understanding the question.

"When Tom Riddle came here, he was a lonely boy looking for a way to become great, someone whom people would never ignore again, to become powerful. Why are you here?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, not entirely sure. He reached his conclusion a few minutes later, and voiced his thoughts to the portrait.

"I also want to become powerful. But I want it for a different reason, I want to be powerful enough that nobody can manipulate me, so that nobody can control my life. My entire life has been in the hands of other people. I don't want to ever be used as a pawn again."

Salazar smiled, looking somewhere behind Harry. The Potter heir turned around, quickly finding what had caught Salazar's eye.

.....

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