The Epitome of Humanity's Failings
The first time Harry appeared in class again, he was surrounded by eleven year olds, pestering him with questions about where he had been and if he was okay. It was… requiring to get used to. But he couldn’t help the familial sigh, when Hermione jumped at him and hugged him effusively, muttering that he was an idiot for disappearing and what he had been thinking, skipping classes like that.
It was McGonagall who saved him from the children, when she entered the classroom and didn’t spare Harry more than one glance.
“Good morning, class. Sit down. We’ll be reviewing the switching spells today.”
««»»
The rest of the week he spent in the library. His make-up work took more time than he had anticipated, additionally to his usual homework. Hermione, ever the saint, lent him a hand for the research he had to do for his make-up work.
Due to the sheer amount of time he spent in the library, it was inevitable though, that one day he crossed paths with Hagrid. - Particularly when the man just walked out of the section about dragons.
It was another wake-up call, similar to the one he had felt at Halloween about the troll, and foremost lead to him making the decision to start doing stuff.
Retrospectively he couldn’t believe he had spent several months here now, but what had he actually accomplished?
Nothing so far.
No destroyed Horcruxes, no defeated beasts and dangers, no Philosopher’s Stone saved. And, most important of all; no deaths prevented. Not that the latter had been necessary yet, but the only thing he had managed so far was to learn how to call on the dead. And even with that he still wasn’t sure what that particular power entailed and meant for him and others.
He felt like he had used his time here in mostly one way: Selfishly.
“Who says being selfish is bad.” Merlin was lounging on the couch, smirking lazily. Harry glared at him. “I mean, being selfish is great. No duties, no responsibilities…”
“Yes, I can see why you’re the most famous and celebrated wizard of all time”, Harry said sarcastically. “You’re a real joy to have around.”
Merlin grinned wolfishly, not caring in the slightest of what Harry thought about him. “How is it my fault that everyone decided to worship me? I’m not saying they’re wrong to do so, just… unexpected”, he shrugged and Harry rolled his eyes.
“Why the hell would Death want me to team up with you?”, he muttered. He didn’t think it had been loud enough for Merlin to hear, but apparently he was wrong. Contrary to Harry’s impression of Merlin so far though, he suddenly looked serious, sat up straighter and wore a small frown. “You really have no idea?”
Harry just shook his head. This time it was easier, because he didn’t think Merlin was just mocking him.
“You’re a Slytherin now. And you’ve lived through the war before. So I take it, you’re acutely aware of the situation with old pureblood families and their prejudices.” Harry didn’t even deign that with an answer. “Last time you were too absorbed in your own problems to make a difference, but this time you can actually change things. You think it bothers none of us that Slytherin is seen as the house of evil nowadays? The house Voldemort originated from?”
“Well, Slytherin did its best to earn its reputation”, Harry said irritated. “I don’t like it, now that I’m living it, but what am I supposed to do? How can I erase decades worth of pureblood supremacism and muggle hatred?”
Merlin’s frown deepened, then his lips curled into a smirk. “I think it’s time you met an old friend of mine.”
««»»
Harry was truly and utterly… speechless. His life had never been normal, even for that of a wizard, and had only gotten weirder since Death had sent him back in time, but this had to be the tip of the iceberg.
Opposite to him, in an armchair next to the great and all-powerful asshole Merlin, sat Salazar Slytherin, twirling his cane and looking around like a bored child, waiting to be entertained.
“This room could do with a little green.”
“I’ve told him that”, Merlin said eagerly. “But he clearly has no sense of style. Look at all these reds and yellows, it’s so bright it hurts my eyes.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised”, Slytherin sighed. “It’s Godric’s bad influence. Your brain probably melts when you see all these colours all day every day”, he turned towards Harry, directly addressing him for the first time: “Do you regularly experience spells of nausea?”
Harry contemplated running and leaving. This was simply too bizarre.
“Don’t bother with him, he isn’t much of a talker”, Merlin said casually. “And he’s in a mood all the time. I guess I can see why Death picked him, they fit perfectly well.”
Slytherin hummed, seemingly considering that. There was silence for a moment and Harry had the feeling he should say something – anything, really.
“Well, go on”, Slytherin said, his voice bored. Harry would have been tempted to believe his act, if not for the fact that Slytherin looked anywhere but at him, avoiding any eye contact. “I know what you’re about to ask. Go on.”
He was just about to ask what he meant by that – that he had about a thousand questions at the ready, but then he realized that it was only one that truly mattered. One he hadn’t even considered during his own school time, but with the revelations of Merlin (and his very high opinion of the deadly basilisk under the school) and Death and even the Sorting Hat telling him to change things in Slytherin, it was pretty obvious at this point.
“How did we get things so wrong?”
Slytherin looked surprised– pleasantly surprised even. He looked at Merlin who just grinned and shrugged, then back at Harry with a newfound curiosity in his expression.
“I don’t know for sure”, Slytherin said carefully. “I have guesses on how the mythos originated, but I can’t be sure, because it changed so much over the years.”
Harry was immediately reminded of the Hogwarts rumour mill, that was very entertaining at its best and borderline insanity at its worst.
“The most important fact may be that I hate Muggles with a passion.”
Even breath, no sudden movements, steady gaze. Harry hoped to not let his uneasiness show, but judging from Slytherin’s and Merlin’s expressions, he failed miserably.
“Oh, put him out of his misery, you dramatic bastard”, Merlin said and Slytherin snorted.
“Fine. So, I hate Muggles with a passion. I suppose you’re familiar with the witch burnings?”, Harry nodded dumbly, “Well, it was a bit different than you probably learned in History of Magic. There were people like Wendelyn the Weird of course, and it may be true, that the burnings weren’t effective in decreasing the wizarding population – in the fourteenth century at least. In our time, that was different; Magical education was hard to come by, there were only a handful of knowledgeable witches and wizards to begin with and magic was largely disliked by the Muggles. So, when the Muggles finally decided to act on their fear and hatred, witches and wizards didn’t know how to defend themselves.”
“Oh”, Harry said very intelligently. Slytherin snorted again. “Yes. It was a massacre. Out of the few who knew at least a few useful spells, many lost their children, who were too young to defend themselves. I can’t count how many students we’ve lost to Muggles even after we started the school. They were creative as well, there weren’t just burnings, but drownings, beheadings, crucifixions even”, Slytherin paused again, taking a deep breath as if to gather himself again. Harry didn’t blame him after that massive dump of trauma he had just heard.
“Now, after hearing that, give me one reason we should have trusted Muggles at all, back then. To think of them as anything more than scum.”
Harry took a deep, but shallow breath so as to not raise attention to it. It was scary and worrying, how much sense this made. When one tiny word caught his attention… “We?”, he asked and Slytherin grinned sharply. “You didn’t think after everything I’ve told you I was the only one of us to despise Muggles, did you? Yes, even your precious Godric Gryffindor thought of them as the epitome of humanity’s failings.”
««»»
It was past dinner by now and Harry was still sitting in that comfortable armchair in front of the fire, mulling over everything he’d found out. He couldn’t even count how many world-changing revelations he’d at by this point, but it didn’t get any less exhausting.
The most unbelievable thing he’d heard today wasn’t even that Salazar Slytherin was surprisingly civil or that Godric Gryffindor had apparently hated Muggles, but that it was again all on him to right everyone’s perception of pretty much all wizarding Britain.
And he was just exhausted.
So it just came to him what to do about it and only a few minutes later he was standing in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait, who was arguing with him if to let him in or not.
“But I told you the password!”, Harry said frustratedly.
“It’s of no matter”, the Fat Lady said. “A Slytherin has no business in the Gryffindor common room.”
“I told you, I’m looking for my friends! I’m not gonna pick a fight or anything.”
“Of course you’re not, because you’re not getting in.”
Harry was gritting his teeth. He wouldn’t have done this otherwise, but everyone knew him as an unsuspecting first year, so he walked up to the portrait and hammered his fists against, it, yelling: “Let me in! Let me in!”
It took only a few moments for the portrait to be opened from the other side by a tiny Neville Longbottom, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Harry? What are you doing here?”
“That stupid portrait wouldn’t let me in, even though I knew the password”, Harry grumbled and the Fat Lady started to curse him. “Can I come in?”
“Uh… sure.” Harry walked in past Neville, but not without smirking at the Fat Lady one last time.
“Gryffindor common room is so small”, Harry said more to himself than anyone in particular. It was crazy how much your perception changed after a few months in another house.
Speaking of… The other Gryffindors didn’t seem too happy to see him.
“What is he doing here?”, Seamus asked outraged and in his peripheral vision Harry saw Neville shrink into himself. Other Gryffindors he knew well in his original time gathered and glared at him.
“I’m looking for Fred and George. Are they here?”, Harry asked, but got no response.
“Go away!”, Alicia said and Harry barely stopped himself from flinching at her hostility. “Did you let him in?”, McLaggen asked Neville threateningly and Harry stepped in front of him.
“He did, because your stupid portrait wouldn’t let me in. Now, are Fred and George here? I didn’t plan on staying.”
Everyone’s gaze collectively snapped at Lee Jordan, who sat on the couch with Alicia and Angelina. He smirked. “They’re upstairs. Can’t guarantee for nothing though when you walk in there, they were just planning something.”
Harry saluted and walked upstairs to the twin’s dormitory.
Maybe he should have knocked. But over the years he had learned that knocking was useless with the twins, as they would either not hear it or choose not to hear it. And so, when he opened the door, he was greeted by a deafening bang and quickly had his wand drawn.
The twins coughed through the thick blue smoke emitting from a cauldron on the floor. It was such a familiar sight, that Harry smiled and stuffed his wand away. He closed the door and the sound of the lock made Fred and George look up. Wide grins erupted on their faces when they saw him.
“Harry!”, they jumped up and laid an arm around him from each side, guiding him to their little potions lab in the middle of the room. The fumes were making him dizzy, but there was a familiar smell to it.
“Canary creams?”, he asked.
The twins immediately stopped what they were doing and stared at him. “… How did you know?” Fred asked dumbfounded and Harry smiled in remembrance of all the mayhem they had caused in school with their sweets.
“Doesn’t matter”, he said and when it seemed like they wanted to protest, he quickly changed to a subject he was sure they would be interested in: “How do you feel about becoming illegal animagi?”