Yo,

I'm back with the Next 10 Chapters of Broken Shackles. Next chapter of the story is available you know where. Hope you share your feedback with me.

"Talking"

'Thinking'

"Familiar/ Ghosts /Goblins" talking.

'Familiar/ Ghosts/ Goblins' thinking.

'Parseltongue, will/memories'

"Spell" is being used.

Enjoy.

Broken Shackles

Chapter 24

Slytherin

Ron Weasley is not a happy person. Why you ask? Many things make him unhappy from Harry's House change, his decreasing fame in the den of lions, his abysmal grades to the inadequate food he is getting due to always being late. But his current situation didn't concern any of the above. It's his pet rat, Scabbers. It's been some time since the rodent went missing and Ron thought he will be back in a few days and that few days was many weeks ago.

The moment Ron realized Scabbers was missing, his heart dropped into his stomach. The usually ramshackle dormitory he slept in felt uncharacteristically still, the morning light filtering in through the windows to reveal the unmistakable empty space on Ron's bed. Where was Scabbers?

Scabbers is his only friend whom he trusted wholeheartedly after Harry left him alone in Gryffindor. The rat acted as his emotional support for his whole Hogwarts past with his squeaks and gnawing.

And then there is Percy. His older brother gave Scabbers to him when he joined Hogwarts as an Heirloom. To Weasleys, it's definitely an Heirloom and he doesn't want to disappoint Percy as he is the only one who respects Ron.

He felt a moment of panic swell through him. Frantically, he started rummaging through his bedsheets, hoping to find the rat burrowed in a corner. But there was no sign of him. He searched under his bed, behind his trunk, and even inside his shoes, but Scabbers was nowhere to be found.

His mind began to race, his thoughts spiralling into the worst-case scenarios. Had Scabbers somehow escaped out a window? Had he gotten lost somewhere in the vast castle? Or worst of all... had Crookshanks finally got him?

He had seen that smug cat loitering near his dorm room a few times, its eyes glittering with a predatory gleam. The suspicion gnawed at him as he recalled Hermione's dismissive assurances that Crookshanks would never harm Scabbers. But he had always had a gut feeling that the cat was a danger to his pet rat.

Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Ron stormed into the Great Hall, his eyes immediately seeking Hermione. He found her sitting at the Gryffindor table, a serene expression on her face as she poured over one of her textbooks, Crookshanks purring contentedly at her feet.

With Harry

Harry met his friends after his daily routine. They all excitedly walked to the Great Hall talking about their classes and how they to want to ace their upcoming assignments. Harry listened to them in amusement as Padma complained about Potions and Terry about Transfiguration.

They are not bad per se, on the contrary, they are the best one can find. But since Transfiguration has turned to a more hands-on approach and they are friends of Harry, they don't consider themselves as giving their best in Transfiguration as Harry was able to get the Transfiguration right in his first few tries.

As for Potions, it's Potions. That's all Harry needs to know to understand Padma's predicament. As Snape couldn't do anything to Harry, he turned to his friends to take his revenge. Wantedly making them do a mistake.

As they reached the Great Hall, a shouting match was in full swing and they silently walked to the Ravenclaw table and started filling their plate with food.

They saw Ron, with his face flushed redder than his hair, standing and gesturing wildly, his freckles standing out starkly against his flushed face and Hermione looking exasperated yet determined, stood opposite him, Crookshanks sitting placidly at her feet.

"My Scabbers is missing, Hermione!" Ron's voice cut through the noise, causing many heads to turn. "And your cat was the last one seen around him!"

His finger pointed accusingly towards Crookshanks, who just blinked back at him lazily. Hermione looked up from her book, her expression turning from surprise to annoyance as she understood Ron's accusation. The Great Hall was filled with tension as everyone held their breath, awaiting the impending confrontation.

"Crookshanks would never," Hermione shot back, folding her arms. "You're just blaming him because you're incapable of keeping track of your pet!"

From the Ravenclaw table, Harry chuckled, exchanging amused glances with Padma and Terry. It was an endearing, albeit loud, exchange - typical of the Gryffindor pair. The Hall was now abuzz with whispers, eyes darting towards the spectacle.

Though Harry felt sympathetic to Ron, he couldn't let the rat roam freely, not after what he had done. He was surprised that it took this long for Ron to notice but again it's Ron Weasley, he is thinking about. The gingerhead had always been slow to pick things.

"Harry!" Ron suddenly yelled, turning an accusing finger towards Harry who was far across at the Ravenclaw table. "You tell her! Crookshanks has been after Scabbers since he first saw him, right?!"

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't reply, laughter bubbling up in his chest but he clammed his shields tight, not releasing the laughter as his eyes met Hermione's, who looked on the verge of laughter herself, her arms still stubbornly folded. This is not first time Ron lost track of things and they knew this won't be the last as well.

Harry was surprised that Ron would drag him in the fight but didn't reply as he didn't bother hiding his amusement at the whole scene. It's too late for Ron to bring back Pettigrew now and he liked it that way. Maybe he should make up a story on how they found Pettigrew. Something to think about.

While this was going on, the sound of purring echoed. Crookshanks, ever the indifferent cat, groomed his ginger fur and closed his eyes, much to the continued annoyance of Ron. The Hall echoed with laughter, the seriousness of the 'Scabbers Case' losing ground to the amusement it provided.

Settling back into his chair, Harry's eyes twinkled with mirth. Oh, how he had missed these school-day dramas over the holidays! It was indeed good to be back. Ron never fails to amuse him.

Ron's flush deepened, his voice climbing another octave, making several first years jump. "Scabbers has been in my family for ages, Hermione! You can't just let your cat—"

But Hermione wasn't backing down, her bushy hair seemed to bristle along with her rising temper. "And how many times have I told you, Ron, that it's not just Crookshanks! Any cat would chase a rat! It's their instinct. Besides, you never had any proof that Crookshanks did anything!"

The rest of the Great Hall was growing quiet now, the usual breakfast chatter slowly dying down as more and more people were getting sucked into the drama at the Gryffindor table.

From his spot at the Ravenclaw table, Harry rolled his eyes at the continued arguing. Ron's stubbornness coupled with Hermione's dogged determination had caused their fair share of rows, but this one seemed particularly pointless.

"That's because you never listen to me!" Ron was almost shouting now, jabbing his finger in Hermione's direction, his other hand absentmindedly going to the empty spot in his pocket where Scabbers usually nestled.

"Well, maybe if you presented a logical argument for once, I would!" Hermione shot back, her brown eyes flashing defiantly.

The situation escalated further until the chatter in the Hall was reduced to low whispers and pointed looks. The spectacle was entertaining for sure, both of them oblivious to the amusement they were causing.

Percy Weasley had, up until this point, been attempting to ignore the commotion, engrossed in a thick book that was undoubtedly some sort of riveting Head Boy's favourite manual. He finally seemed to acknowledge the spectacle, his brows furrowing.

As the Head Boy, he must intervene when students cause disruptions, even if those students happened to be his younger brother and his friends.

Sliding his bookmark into place, Percy stood, straightening his Head Boy badge and clearing his throat as he strode over to the arguing duo.

"Ronald," Percy began, his voice stern and authoritative, yet still carrying that slightly pompous air that he never seemed to shake. "This is neither the time nor the place for such a quarrel. You're making a scene."

Ron scowled at him, "But Perce, Scabbers—"

Percy raised a hand to interrupt him, "I know about Scabbers, Ron. But there is a more dignified way to handle this situation."

Hermione, looking rather satisfied with this development, stood back a little, dusting off her robes, and cleaning off invisible dust.

Percy then turned to Hermione, his stern look softening slightly. "Miss Granger, perhaps you could ensure Crookshanks is kept in your dormitory for the time being, to avoid any further potential mishaps."

Hermione nodded, looking slightly chastised, but still triumphant as Percy turned to leave, his responsibility as Head Boy fulfilled. As he left, he cast a disappointed look over his shoulder at Ron, who was now sulking into his bowl of cereal.

Percy paused mid-stride, a troubled expression crossing his face. He turned back to his younger brother, his disappointment clear.

"Scabbers was a part of our family, Ron," Percy said quietly, looking at his sibling with serious eyes. "You were entrusted with his care, and you lost him."

"I didn't lose him, Hermione's cat chased him away!" Ron protested, but his voice had lost its earlier heat. He was aware of the stares of other students and the disappointed look on his older brother's face sank his heart.

Percy shook his head, his tone even. "Regardless of how it happened, Ron, the responsibility was yours. You should have been more careful."

Percy's words seemed to echo in the silence that followed. Ron stared at his full plate, his face slowly turning a shade of red that matched his hair. Even Hermione had nothing to say.

After what felt like an eternity, Percy finally broke the silence. "I hope you'll make an effort to find him, Ron. For your sake and Scabbers's."

With that, Percy turned, his robes billowing behind him, and left his younger brother to contemplate his words. A quiet murmur of conversation picked up once more in the Great Hall, but the mood at the Gryffindor table remained sombre. Harry watched as Ron looked down at his untouched breakfast, his face full of regret and guilt.

Harry watched, his amusement growing as Percy strode away, back to his book and the quiet tranquillity he so enjoyed followed. Breakfast at Hogwarts was never boring.

He couldn't care less for the Weasley boy if not for his incompetence, Harry couldn't have caught the rat and he is satisfied with that. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw the Weasley twins, Fred and George, slide into the seats beside their younger brother. They had been observing the entire spectacle with a mix of amusement and surprise, but now their expressions turned to brotherly concern as they saw Ron's downcast face.

"Blimey, Ronniekins, didn't know you had it in you to raise such a ruckus before breakfast," George began, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Fred chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eye, "at least you're not boring anymore."

Ron scowled at them, not appreciating their humour at his expense, but it was clear their banter had diverted the attention from him.

Ignoring Ron's annoyed expression, Fred continued, "Though you have to admit, little brother, you could've been a bit more responsible with Scabbers. After all, we've had him since before you were born."

"Responsibility," George echoed with a mock serious nod, "It's a heavy burden, Ron. Almost as heavy as Percy's Head Boy badge."

The Great Hall erupted in laughter at that, students from all four houses chuckling at the Weasley twins' perfect timing. Even Ron cracked a small smile, and Harry noticed Hermione's shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle her giggles.

Despite the previous tension, the Weasley twins had expertly diffused the situation with their quick wit and humour, leaving the Great Hall buzzing with laughter and light-hearted chatter. They might have been tricksters, but they also knew exactly how to support their family when it mattered.

Harry looked at the clock and hurried to the Ancient Runes class. It's one of his most interesting electives just not because of the Runes, but because of his speciality in the field. He wants to reinstate Potter House as Ward experts again in the Wizarding world and Runes are very important for that.

Aside from that, Runes are very useful in many other cases as well and Harry wants to get as deep as he can in the field because of his interest in the arts. Though he already completed the 3rd, 4th and even his OWLs syllabus, he doesn't want to miss the class, unlike Binns.

Ancient Runes Class

As the class started, Professor Bathsheda Babbling, started discussing one of the more complex theories related to Rune Interpretation.

"Can anyone explain the significance of the Ehwaz rune when found in ancient magical texts?" She asked, pointing at the rune sketched on the blackboard.

Hermione Granger, eager as always, raised her hand. "The Ehwaz rune represents the concept of partnership and cooperation, professor. In ancient magical texts, it can signify the joining of powers or entities for a greater purpose."

"Very good, Miss Granger," Professor Babbling said approvingly. "It is indeed about partnership and cooperation. Now, what happens if we find Ehwaz combined with Mannaz, the rune representing 'human'? Any ideas?"

Anthony Goldstein from his House raised his hand this time. "It could represent the idea of human cooperation or collaboration, Professor. Perhaps it was used in spells or rituals that required more than one witch or wizard?"

"An excellent interpretation, Mr Goldstein!" Professor Babbling said, visibly pleased. "You're correct. It is believed that when combined, these two runes represent collective human effort or collaboration."

Just then, Susan chimed in, "But professor, runes can be quite subjective, can't they? How can we be certain about these interpretations?"

"Ah, an important question, Miss Bones," Professor Babbling acknowledged. "Runes indeed have a level of subjectivity. Their interpretation depends largely on their context and the intuition of the reader. Understanding the subtleties and nuances of runes comes with practice and in-depth study. Runes are not just symbols; they're a language that communicates the wisdom of the ancients."

As the discussion deepened, more students started to join in, drawn in by the fascinating complexity of the ancient runes.

"Professor Babbling," Seamus Finnigan piped up, "If the Ehwaz rune is all about cooperation and unity, could it have been used in spells related to creating harmony or understanding between people?"

"That's a very insightful point, Mr Finnigan," replied Professor Babbling, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. "Indeed, in the olden times, Ehwaz could have been used in rituals intended to foster unity and reconciliation. This emphasizes the importance of understanding the context in which the rune is used."

Then, Padma, added, "Could these rune combinations be thought of as forming a sort of story or narrative? Like, the individual meanings coming together to create a greater, cohesive whole?"

The class went silent for a moment at Padma's question. Even Professor Babbling seemed momentarily taken aback before she beamed at Padma, "Miss Patil, that's a rather poetic way to see it, but it is also very accurate. Runes, like words, form narratives. They convey the thoughts, intentions, and wisdom of our ancestors. Each rune, each combination adds another layer to that narrative."

A murmur of understanding passed through the class and Harry was even more pleased for attending the class. It seemed like they were viewing Ancient Runes not just as a subject, but as a magical form of storytelling. Professor Babbling's class was no longer just a series of symbols to be memorised, but an intricate tapestry of narratives to be understood and appreciated.

Even though Harry made significant progress in the subject, these high-level talks always excited him. Though he is not actively participating, he enjoyed the conversation a lot. With a content smile, he left the class as Professor Babbling was impressed by their input and didn't give any homework. She even agreed to have deep discussions like this once in a while.

Harry loved the subject as they are very important for his rituals as Goldstein had pointed but he developed more interest in it because of the Professor's passion for it. It's rare to find passionate people like that after all. Almost all his Professor's have the passion except maybe Binns. Though the Ghost is very passionate about Goblin's and their rebellions.

Speaking of rituals, Harry had to calculate his adjusted birthday. As Magic itself acknowledges Time Turners, they add time to his age and so his birthday shifts with that. Poor Harry only observed that fact when he was more entranced by female anatomy in the past few weeks.

Harry generally had tight control of his emotions with his Occlumency at all times to not slip what he was thinking to Snape or Dumbledore and now Lupin. But lately, he had these, he won't call them deranged, but deep thoughts about what he can do with female bodies.

He thought it was just cause he saw Cho undress but these were consistent with him for the past few weeks as he also observed more than necessarily how Tonks's curves hugged her body and he can only think of one phase when Teenagers have these enthralling thoughts. When Teenage Hormones are high and when will they be high if you are not Harry Potter? At every birthday.

He had to exclude himself as the adventures he finds himself in always keeps the hormones high for him. Harry chuckled at his choice of words for his close calls with Death.

Back on topic. Finding his birthday is important as he had to perform his 2nd ritual which extracts some of the magic in the Slytherin Lord ring and transfers it to Harry. The Slytherin Lord Ring is very powerful than Harry expected and Salzaar is not kidding when he said he added the essence of many powerful magicks into it.

Harry must admit it was very bold of him. Unlike leaving what he learnt in books, the man did the most Slytherin thing again and hid it all in a Ring. A Ring which only his blood descendants can access after verification.

A ring that can control its Lord very well and calm him or power him up when need be. He felt it calming him down many times mostly when his magic was running wild. But he felt it powering him up when he fought with all those people when he was in Birmingham with Tonks.

A Ring which only transfers the ritual essences when particular critirea is met on the behest of the Ancient Magic entering into it. Harry was astonished by the amount of complex and introcate runes, charms, alchemy and enchnating that went into making the fine ring. He observed it in trance as it appeared on his right ring finger.

He also remembered how Salazaar mentioned the importance of Summer and Winter Solstice after his 14th birthday for rituals and the magical number his Ancestor gave him to extract everything from the Ring is 7. He already performed 1 and so 6 remain.

As the first 1 is related to his body, he had to let his body naturally mature to 13 years and so he let it. Though his Magical birthday was on July 7th, 24 days before his actual one. Harry isn't sure until Mira scared him to his death on the day that he is a year old.

He definitely felt some difference between then and now as he only used the Time Turner more often than usual in his 3rd year and didn't hold back after he saw Hermoine use it. He can only imagine how many months he would have aged. A soft smile passed his lips at the thought.

"Something funny, Potter?" The cool voice of Daphne Greengrass called him out and he turned to the Slytherin girl. He gave her a charming smile.

"Looking as beautiful as always, Miss Greengrass," Harry said and got a smirk from the blonde girl.

"Flattery can take you no where, Mr Potter. I'm sure it's time for our next class?" She asked and Harry raised an eyebrow. That's when he remembered its Potions next and rushed towards the Dungeons. He heard Daphne's amused laughter behind him and felt the girl follow him.

Though Harry can simply teleport to the Bat's nest, he decided to jog and have some fun. It's good exercise as well and gives him time to organise his thoughts straight and plan carefully.

Scene Break

It's been a few days since the Ancient Runes class and his encounter with Greengrass. Potions has become amusing with Snape after Harry jinxed his throat and they all can see the dark bags under their Potions Master's eyes from his lack of sleep and the Potions class was messier than before with various liquids.

Not wanting to tempt whatever dark creature that was playing with him, Snape wrote the instructions on the board and they all silently followed them and brewed the potion. Without much fanfare, the class ended with none losing any points surprising everyone.

Harry couldn't hold his laughter at the Bat-like professor's displeased expression as if he did something fundamentally wrong by not deducting any points and he stormed off to his office without any word after they were done with their potion.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened for the next few days until his next Arithmancy class at the weekend. Harry also deduced his birthday had moved more than 3 months this time with the amount of Time Turning he did and it is on May 5th as of now. Which is more than 3 months from today. But Harry knew with his regular use of it, the date will prepone.

Harry, much like his Ancient Runes class, loved Arithminchy. The prospect of creating his own spell did always excite the ambitious Slytherin Lord. But right now he is on his way to perform his 1st duty as Lord Slytherin. He decided it's been long enough he was silent.

And so after reaching his room after a tummy full of Friday dinner and his next 2 days free, Harry turned the Time Turner to 3 in the afternoon, changed his robes to Slytherin colours and with the map amd Cloak on him, vanished from his room to Slytherin common room.

Harry, with barely any sound appeared in the Slytherin Common room. He was amazed by the feeling of home it had.

"Salazar Slytherin is proud to have Lord Slytherin back in his house." Hogwarts chimed in, though without the gong of the bell which Harry requested to not make as it surprises people around him when he wants to be sneaky.

With an amused smile, Harry looked around and the room didn't disappoint. The Slytherin common room, much like the house it represented, exuded a certain mysterious charm and majesty.

Situated in the dungeons of Hogwarts Castle, the common room sat under the surface of the lake. This unique location gave it an atmospheric, ethereal feel, with dappled green light filtering through the windows from the water above, casting dancing patterns on the stone walls and the dark green and silver decor.

The room was a long, low underground space, with rough-hewn stone walls and a ceiling that was covered with a tapestry of the Slytherin family crest - a silver serpent on a field of green. The furniture was ornate, suited for the pureblood aristocracy that frequently graced Slytherin's house. There were high-backed chairs and couches upholstered in green and silver velvet, arranged in intimate clusters around small, dark wooden tables.

At the heart of the room was a grand fireplace, the hearth always flickering with an emerald flame, casting a soft, warm glow that contrasted with the otherwise cool tones of the room. The hearth served as a gathering point.

The walls were adorned with portraits of notable Slytherin alumni though not magical, their stern faces surveying the room with an air of timeless wisdom and expectation. Harry noticed the lack of Tom's portrait and chuckled at the irony. The cabinets filled with crystal phials, ancient scrolls, and silver instruments reflected the house's affinity for knowledge and power.

Tall bookcases were strategically placed, housing volumes of advanced potions, histories of famous Slytherins, treatises on the Dark Arts, and various magical theory texts. These books, though seemingly intimidating, were frequently used by the students, eager to outdo their peers and uphold the reputation of their house.

Despite its somewhat intimidating appearance, the Slytherin common room had an undeniable charm. It was a place that exemplified ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness, mirroring the traits of the house it belonged to. It was a sanctuary for the snakes of Hogwarts, a place where they could truly be themselves.

Harry positioned himself at one of the corners of the room and started observing. Due to his right of conquest and eating the Basilisk meat, he got enhanced vision, hearing and immunity to all poisons. Maybe he got even more, but he only knows of these right now. He wished he would get the thick hide of the basilisk and imagined the spells bouncing off his skin. Before he can go deep into his thoughts, his ears perked up at the whispers.

At the other end of the room, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis were talking to themselves. Interested, Harry silently walked closer.

As Lord Greengrass asked his daughter to get a good grasp on Potter, Daphne started observing him.

"Do you reckon he's genuinely as brilliant as the stories say?" Tracey queried, her eyes flicking to the Greengrass Heiress. Daphne understood whom Tracey is talking about, pausing her Transfiguration homework to take a thoughtful sip of her pumpkin juice, and responded, "Being sorted into Ravenclaw certainly lends credibility to that theory. And he's not your average hero type, constantly seeking the spotlight."

Tracey nodded in agreement. "He seems rather uncomfortable with the fame. It's a change of pace, to be honest."

"Yet, there's a unique quality about him," Daphne added, her gaze distant. "He possesses an innate ability to effect change. A subtle but profound influence."

"That's intriguing," Tracey admitted, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. "He does stand apart. After all, he's Harry Potter - The Boy Who Lived." She said with a grandiose pose, her hands wide as if embracing something.

"But there's more to him," Daphne continued, her voice filled with conviction. "He has a boldness, a determination that could reshape our perceptions. Not just as the Boy-Who-Lived, but as someone who can redefine the future."

"Definitely full of surprises," Tracey agreed, looking at Daphne with renewed interest. "Perhaps, in time, he might even redefine what it means to be a 'Slytherin' or a 'Ravenclaw'." She said and Harry was surprised at their astute observation.

That's what Harry is trying to do right now. Observe how far Slytherin fell and rebuild the house to its former glory as Salazar wanted. That's the reason he is here observing all the snakes invisible to them. He wants to assess who is a threat and who is a potential ally.

Daphne and Tracey left after an hour more of talking and Harry returned to observing others in the common room. He didn't want to intrude and so he didn't go any further than Common room.

Late in the evening, the flickering torches along the stone walls threw shadows that danced around the Slytherin common room. A cluster of Slytherins huddled around the imposing fireplace, shivering slightly from the winter chill.

After Daphne and Tracey left, nothing was interesting if you consider the snogging session a 6th year girl and 7th year boy had and Harry had to suppress his urge to banish them into Snape's office. At that, the entrance burst open and in came a bunch of snakes.

"I don't see why the castle can't be warmer," grumbled Marcus Flint, his hands extended toward the crackling fire.

"Well, your griping won't make it any cosier, Flint," Daphne quipped, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she shot him a sidelong glance from her place in the corner, a Potions textbook laid open in front of her.

"Perhaps a charm on the fire to increase the heat would do the trick?" suggested Theodore Nott, his practical mind always seeking solutions.

"Great idea, Nott. And then we can all enjoy the common room as a smouldering pile of ashes," Pansy Parkinson retorted sarcastically from her perch on a rich green velvet sofa, her attention half on the fashion magazine open in her lap.

Suddenly, Blaize walked into the common room, breaking the conversation. As Blaize moved to sit across from Pansy, everyone turned to him curiously.

Blaize raising an eyebrow at the ongoing debate, nonchalantly suggested, "Why not simply alter the colour of the flames? Blue, I think, burns hotter."

With that, he flicked his wand at the fire, which instantly changed to a brilliant azure. The heat in the room noticeably increased, bringing a collective sigh of comfort from the students around the hearth.

"Leave it to Zabini to find a solution," Pansy remarked, a teasing note in her voice.

The common room slowly resumed its usual hum of chatter, a little warmer and more comfortable than before. And though the students were not as quick to voice it, they felt a small sense of appreciation for Blaize's action – a demonstration of leadership that was simple, practical, and undeniably Slytherin.

Harry knew very little of his classmate except for the fact he is a Slytherin. He remembered reading the name Zabini in Noble Houses of Magical World but where they were from and what they do, Harry didn't pay much attention.

Just then, the atmosphere within the Slytherin common room had become decidedly more comfortable with the increase in heat, when the entrance door swung open. In strode Draco Malfoy, his faithful companions Crabbe and Goyle lumbering behind him.

Pansy Parkinson, noticing Draco's entrance, quickly adjusted her posture, discarding the glossy magazine onto the table in front of her. Draco's eyes, scanning the room, fell on the blue flames dancing in the fireplace.

"Who meddled with the fire?" Draco inquired, his tone light but curiosity unmistakable. His gaze swept over the Slytherins present, trying to discern who was responsible.

"It was a collective decision," Flint offered, his tone bold and challenging. Draco's cool gaze met Flint's defiant one.

"I see," Draco drawled, keeping his gaze steady on the fire. "They are warmer, I must admit," he conceded with a hint of reluctance.

Quick to grasp the chance to engage Draco, Pansy interjected, "It's quite a clever idea, isn't it? Much more comfortable now."

"I suppose it is," Draco replied, positioning himself on a seat across from Pansy. His ever-present shadows, Crabbe and Goyle, took up their customary spots standing protectively behind him.

As the conversation resumed, the topic had now veered towards the shared discomfort of the impending History of Magic essay. Draco, ever so vocal about his disdain for Professor Binns' monotonous lectures, led the discussion.

Harry watched as everyone turned as a teenager and talked excitedly the words fit their age. Harry didn't lose the irony. He is their age and yet he doesn't feel or act as one while he is satisfied to see him act their age. With an amused smile, Harry exited the common room and walked aimlessly in the empty corridors of Hogwarts.

He got a good grasp on the present students. Not their hidden intents but a good grasp of their character. To get their hidden intent, he should observe them when something drastic happened in the Castle. Something that concerns him. He knew that will make them show their true colours.

On his aimless walks, without his cloak as he can always teleport to his dorm if someone is around, Harry walked around and reached the 5th-floor corridors and as he was about to move to Ravenclaw Tower a voice interrupted him.

"Oh ho, it's Potty Potter again, Lord Slytherin, is it?" Peeves cackled as he appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, in the corridors of Hogwarts. He had been keeping a close eye on Harry ever since he'd become the self-proclaimed Lord Slytherin.

Though he knew it was not self-proclaimed as being connected to Hogwarts, he knew Harry is indeed Lord Slytherin. But where did it mean he had to respect the Potter or now Slytherin kid? Nowhere. He is Peeves the Poltergeist. He always had his way.

The poltergeist floated a few metres above Harry's head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Peeves loved nothing more than creating chaos and Harry, with his newfound status, was the perfect target.

Yet, despite his bluster, Peeves couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease. There was something different about Harry, something that made even the fearless poltergeist think twice.

"Oi, Potty!" Peeves shrieked, pulling faces and tossing Filch's confiscated goods around, hoping to elicit a reaction. Harry merely looked up, a cool, calm expression on his face. He didn't react, didn't get flustered, and simply continued on his way.

Peeves watched as Harry walked away, a frown forming on his usually gleeful face. "Not so much fun, this one," he muttered to himself. Peeves wasn't used to being ignored. He thrived on chaos and reactions, and Harry was giving him none.

The poltergeist, in his spectral form, followed Harry from a distance, observing him closely. Harry moved with a confidence that was uncharacteristic for his age. And there was a certain power to him, an aura that marked him as different.

"I better keep my tricks up my sleeve, eh?" Peeves mumbled to himself. His usual bravado had been replaced with grudging respect and a tinge of fear. Harry Potter was no ordinary student, and Peeves had to be careful not to push him too far.

Yet, he is Peeves, the notorious poltergeist of Hogwarts, and he couldn't resist a final jibe. "Watch your back, Potty!" He yelled, disappearing with a loud, echoing cackle. But even as he vanished, Peeves couldn't shake off the feeling that Harry Potter was not someone to be trifled with, not even by the likes of him.

Harry didn't mind Peeves. After all, he is needed to keep the school cheerful and chaotic after all. That's when Harry bumped into his 2nd unexpected individual. He knew where he walked. The Astronomy Tower.

To the far corner of the tower, a spectral figure loomed, the silvery form of the Bloody Baron, Hogwarts' most chilling spectre. He was draped in heavy chains, a stark reminder of his earth-bound penance. His sunken eyes observed Harry, a mixture of curiosity and unease apparent in them.

"Lord Slytherin," the Baron greeted with a sardonic tone, his voice echoing across the stone walls. "An odd sight, indeed." Harry wasn't surprised the Ghost knew who he is as one of the House Ghosts he understood Hogwarts let them in on their little secret.

"Baron," Harry replied with a nod, maintaining eye contact with the spectral figure. He was curious about the Baron and his story but using the presented opportunity, Harry decided to talk to the Baron.

"I've been told that you've been the overseer of Slytherin for centuries," Harry began, "I need your counsel."

The Bloody Baron's translucent figure shifted in apparent surprise. "Indeed?" He tilted his spectral head. "And what, may I ask, would you seek from a ghost such as myself?"

Harry took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he met the ghost's gaze. "Guidance. Understanding. You knew Salazar Slytherin, you've seen the centuries unfold in his house. I want to know what it truly means to be a Slytherin, not the twisted vision that it's become. I want to know how to help the house embody ambition, cunning and resourcefulness without falling into the traps of bigotry and elitism."

The Bloody Baron was silent for a long moment, his spectral eyes analyzing Harry, seeming to look straight through him. "You are peculiar Lord Slytherin, Harry Potter," the Baron finally said, his tone less mocking and more thoughtful.

"Your intentions are honourable. However, change is not easy, especially in a house as set in its ways as Slytherin. There will be resistance, and there will be strife."

Harry nodded solemnly, "I'm prepared for that. I'm not seeking an easy path, Baron. Just the right one."

The ghost seemed to appreciate his answer. His chains rattled as he inclined his head in a gesture of respect. "Very well, Lord Slytherin. Let us delve into the history of this great house. I will offer you the wisdom you seek, in hopes that you may steer Slytherin towards a future befitting Salazar's original intentions." The Baron started…

An Hour Later

"The final piece of advice," the Baron said, rising from his chair, his chains clinking softly, "Is to remind your house that Slytherin was one of the four founders. They are a part of Hogwarts just as much as any other house. Encourage unity among the houses, and break down the walls of division. Show them that there is more strength in unity than in division."

With that, the Bloody Baron drifted away, leaving Harry to contemplate his words. Harry knew he had a long and difficult road ahead, but he also knew it was a journey worth taking. As Lord Slytherin, he was determined to redefine the legacy of Slytherin House, to make it a place that embodied the virtues of ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness without the stain of prejudice and malice.

And Cut.

That's it for this Chapter, folks. Hope you all liked it. Tell me, what you think of the chapter and story in general.

Any suggestions are welcomed.

See y'all in the next chapter.

Black Infinity 1289,

Ja Ne.