Draco covered his ears, but the screaming went on inside his head, and worse than the screaming was the terror, pure terror washing over him like a thick black fog. Icy fingers of cold gripped him, prying his hands from the handle of his broomstick, pushing him over backwards. He saw the world turn upside down, the sky at his feet, and then, as he fell, everything went black.
'Harry? Harry! Everything all right?'
Harry glanced up to see Ron looking at him with concern.
'I think so,' said Harry, aware that he probably looked pale and unhappy. 'If I didn't know better, I'd swear there were Dementors around.' He slowed his broom to a halt, put his hands up to his face, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.
Ron paused beside him, and a moment later, so did Ginny. Harry shuddered. 'I feel so — cold,' he said.
Ron shook his head. 'I don't feel anything.'
'Neither do I,' chipped in Ginny. Harry put his glasses back on. 'It's probably — ' He broke off, looking surprised. 'Malfoy!' he called.
'You all right?'
Both Ron and Ginny turned to follow Harry's gaze, just in time to see Draco, who was bent double over his Firebolt as if he were about to be sick, let go of his broomstick and topple sideways. As they watched in horror, he tumbled downwards, vanishing into the treetops, his broom hurtling after him. Ginny gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, and spun to look at Harry — but Harry was already gone. Pointing his broomstick directly at the ground as if he were diving into the Wronski Feint, he shot downwards through the trees, vanishing from sight.
Without another thought, Ginny made as if to dive after him, but Ron clamped a hand on her wrist. 'Ginny, no-'
'Ron, we've got to go after them-'
'Yes,' he said patiently, 'but neither of us is Harry, we can't fly like Harry. You'll get yourself killed.'
With his hand still gripping her arm, he tilted his broom downward, and she followed. She soon saw what he meant. The trees were so thickly interwoven here that it necessitated some tricky flying to keep from crashing or getting tangled in the branches. She remembered the speed at which Harry had dived down, and shuddered. Please let him be all right, she prayed.
And Draco. Let him be all right, too.
'Let me tell you a story,' Salazar Slytherin said.
Hermione looked at his face as he stared fixedly at the tapestry of the Hogwarts Four hanging on the wall. She couldn't tell if he was looking at Rowena or Godric, or even at the depiction of himself. His jaw was set.
'Rowena,' he said.
Not knowing if he was talking to her, Hermione didn't move.
'We were children together,' he said. 'I knew her from the moment she was born. I saw her in her cradle. I was five years old. I knew her and loved her every moment of her life. I watched her as she grew in power and in wisdom. I had little magical skill myself, to speak of.
Until I was fifteen years old, I was the shame of my family. It was then that I told Rowena that I loved her. And she told me she loved me as well.'
Slytherin began to pace.
'It unlocked something inside me. I discovered that not only was I capable of magic, I was in fact a Magid, of unmatched power and skill. I could speak the language of beasts and animals, I could control the weather, I could perform spells without a wand. But only as long as I was with Rowena.'
He glanced at Hermione, his eyes fierce and sad, and she felt again the same flicker of pity for him that she had felt earlier. They were children together; they loved each other as children. Like Harry and me.
But he's nothing like Harry.
'She was my Source,' he said. 'You might not know what that is. It is magic at its most mysterious. Without Rowena, I was more powerless than an infant. With Rowena by my side, I could have mastered the world.'
'But she didn't want you to master the world,' said Hermione slowly. 'Did she?'
'I did everything she asked me to do,' said Slytherin hoarsely. 'I agreed to start the school she wanted me to start with her. I let her bring in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff as founders, although they were both fools. I did what I could to make myself stronger…' He made a noise like a hiss. 'I recruited young wizards of strength and ambition, and among them I looked for one who might be a Source for me, as Rowena was. But there was never anyone, never anyone but her. And the more I needed her, the more she drew away from me. I began to see how she looked at Godric.' He stopped pacing and stared at her with furious eyes. 'She looked at him as, when we were children, she had looked at me. Filthy Muggle-born fool that he was, I knew why she had turned to him. It was because I was weak, because without her, I could not perform the simplest Summoning charm.'
Hermione very much doubted that this was why Rowena had stopped loving Slytherin, if indeed she had, but she kept her mouth shut.
'As she withdrew her love from me, so did my strength ebb, and with it, my desperation grew. I could not bear to be weak; that she should see me as weak was intolerable to me. I did everything —
everything I could — to make myself stronger — '
'You did Dark magic,' said Hermione slowly.
'I called upon the powers of hell,' said Slytherin. 'I resolved that I would no longer rely upon her, that I would strengthen my power, so that I might face Godric without her by my side and she might know that I was powerful in my own right. I called upon the powers of hell and they gave me back what she had taken away from me when she left me for Godric.'
'She stopped loving you because you were doing Dark magic, not because of Godric!' snapped Hermione.
