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Her mouth was dry, barren of saliva to moisten her lips with. They were cracked and bleeding, and she let the red droplets spread over her swollen mouth just to feel something other than how chapped they were. Swallow? What was that? It was like cotton in her mouth. She wished for a drink of water, yet each time her stomach would refuse it. Her body ached, depleted of energy, muscles tired from fever-induced shakes.
“Rowena, love.”
Turning her head to the voice, her puffy eyes separated enough to take in the appearance of a guest. She shivered; it was him . His impassive face haunted her nightmares, and as her eyes focused on him, he spoke again. The words were lost upon her, but the sound of his voice possessed her soul and she was instantly brought back to the days of not long ago . . . when he had taken her underground.
“Don’t worry yourself, Salazar. It’s an easy thing to remedy. A simple charm will do it.”
Rowena’s lips thinned at the scowl on the wizard’s face. He was always so bloody stubborn. She turned her body to him, stance proud, willing him with her eyes to defy her words. His expression remained stoic, and when his gaze shifted from her glare, she knew she had won this battle.
Dealing with Salazar Slytherin was a continuous war, yet she found the banter enjoyable. He was cunning and resourceful, which meant he could keep up with her intellect and wit, but his bull-headed nature made discussions heavy at times. Walking past him, she hid her smile as she tapped her wand on the wooden trapdoor to reveal a sliding tunnel below.
“Why on earth are you creating a secret passage anyway?”
“Well, it’s not a secret now that you’ve stuck your nose into my business, is it?” he responded hotly. Lips taut and eyes narrowed, he turned toward her to continue his rant, unaware of her growing amusement. “You question one single passage? Quite rich coming from the witch who created the school's layout to rearrange itself of its own accord.” She rolled her eyes as his nostrils flared, knowing what was coming. “There is no need to move the Hall from its intended location, Rowena. You should never complicate matters between a man and his food.”
Salazar frequently complained about Rowena’s disappearing rooms and moving corridors. After one instance when he’d been led to the library instead of the Hall, she had tried to explain to him that he must have needed to read over eat, but he refused to listen.
“Ah, yes, but I know you’re happy I interfered. And I don’t know why you insist on bringing up the floor plan once again. You enjoy watching the students get lost.”
If she hadn’t known to look for it, she would have missed the small twinkle in his eyes. His bristling ceased, and he looked her in the face. “I will not admit to such games. However, yes, I am pleased to have your assistance.”
Salazar appreciated a bit of rule-breaking as long as it was in his favour, Rowena knew. As he moved toward the trapdoor, she noted the way his eyes darkened in curiosity as he leaned forward to take in the tunnel beyond.
If anything delighted her more than discovery, it was the reaction she was always able to pull from Salazar Slytherin. With a sly smirk, she pointed her wand at the tunnel and it returned to simple wooden planks in the floorboards, hardly noticeable unless you were aware of magical imprints.
She watched as his posture stiffened and he turned to her, jaw flexing as he frustratedly ground his molars. Holding her palms up, she placated him, “Now, now, Sal, I’ll show you how. But first, you need something to guard the entrance. I wonder . . .” Rowena paused, her mind working quickly through the possibilities. She tapped her chin with the tip of her wand. “Yes, I think the charm shall work. Let’s use your Parseltongue as the key to open the passage.”
He turned to her, his normally beady eyes wide in surprise. A moment later, his lips turned up into a mischievous smile. “That, my dear, Rowena, is beyond clever. Come, let’s finish up and I’ll show you the rest.”
Rowena and Salazar worked together effortlessly, their wand movements floating through the air like a well-practised dance. She was surprised but pleased that he’d allowed her to see the rest of his secret. A part of her wondered why he had always been so clandestine, but her curious mind was beyond interested in what her colleague had created.
As they made their way down the tunnels, Rowena took in the gleaming, dark tiles that lined the walls. It was ominous, yet intriguing at the same time. Her fingers brushed the cold stone as she went, fascinated but mystified; she couldn’t figure out the purpose of it. Magic lingered through the place, its dizzying effects making her feel lost. Maybe that was what Salazar had intended. Yet, she felt she was missing something. He was far too great a wizard to create a labyrinth of tunnels with no resolve at its end.
They came to an apex, each tunnel leading to this centre place. A large stone blocked their path, appearing to be a dead-end. Rowena knew better. Salazar had something up his sleeve; he liked theatrics.
He smirked as he glanced at her, but it was not reassuring. In fact, the look that lingered behind his eyes was alarming. As they’d descended the passage, Salazar had become more distant, a foreboding feeling growing densely between them. Now, it was as if she was standing next to a different man.
Raising his wand, he repeated the same charm as they had on the trapdoor, enabling a secret password for it. After he spoke the hissing phrase, the door swung open to reveal a wide atrium. At the far end was a large sculpture of the wizard himself, his mouth open and wide to reveal what appeared to be another set of tunnels.
There was dark magic here that lifted the hairs on Rowena’s arms; she could almost feel the echo of a heartbeat in the air. Her eyes widened at the expanse of the room. Having never fully immersed herself in the darkness of certain rituals, she wondered if she should feel afraid, as trepidation lingered over her skin.
Aloud, she wondered, “What is the purpose of this place?”
When Salazar didn’t answer, she turned to him. Though tall and prideful as ever, his face was glowing eerily in a way that she’d never seen. He was gratified with what he had created. Gooseflesh rippled across her skin with uncertainty.
“This, my dear, is a place for my heir. It is my legacy to the school.”
He took her hand, something he had only done sparsely. Rowena felt her stomach roll with an unsettling feeling while her skin flushed with nerves despite the coolness of the chamber. As he took a step toward her, removing any space between them, she felt the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his trembling body. The excitement in his eyes was terrifying.
“I had no intention of showing anyone this place. I have half a mind to wipe it clear from your head right now.” His words were spoken like poisoned honey, silky and sweet. She gulped and he smiled, baring his yellowing teeth as he ran his rough-skinned thumb over the back of her hand. “If there was one person I could put even an ounce of faith in, it might be you.”
Her heart beat roughly in her chest, but she nodded, all the same, feeling as if he had her under a spell.
As his eyes locked into her own, he continued, “I was curious, you see, of the effects, this place might have on another soul. When you stumbled upon my mishap with the door, it seemed prudent to run a test. It is a pity it was you, but alas, I took the opportunity when it arose.”
Salazar’s intensity was unnerving, and while she felt a need to comply, Rowena’s own power of persuasion began to bubble up from within. Retrieving her own barings, her guard was soon up against his charm – magic or not. He must have seen it in her eyes as well because before she could utter a word, his manner shifted abruptly. His lip curled as he moved his fingers from her hand to wrap them firmly around her upper arm.
“I know your secret,” he hissed, anger washing over his face to mirror the iron grip on her arm.
For a moment, her blood ran cold in fear. Shame crawled up her spine and lodged its way under her heart, making it beat in a way that taunted her. She barely managed to whisper, “What do you speak of?”
His face glowed triumphantly in the sickly green light. This was not the man she knew; there was a change in him in this place. His low voice smote her like a slicing hex. “I know you’ve lost your diadem, and I know your daughter — though why you still claim her, I don't understand — stole it from you.”
For a moment, her body betrayed her as her knees weakened, threatening to pull her down to the stone floor. She hadn’t told a soul of her lost diadem.
“I pity you, Rowena. I am not surprised you have nothing left. You may value intellect, but without your precious diadem, you know nothing.”
Her heart shattered under his words, hitting a sore spot she was still nursing. Deep down, she questioned if he was right. The blood rushed in her ears, and the beating of a heart — whether her own or the very soul of this place — beat a rapid cadence against her bones. Salazar had her at her weakest, and while she desperately wanted to fight back, the magic of this place seemed to deplete her will. She could almost feel her own soul being leached from her body to feed the darkness within the walls.
“The Unbreakable Vow,” he snarled, digging his dirty nails into the ivory flesh of her arm. “It is either that or death down here. I would rather hate to have to explain your disappearance to an already dubious Gryffindor.”
His eyes burned into hers, and she could feel his mind working with her own to persuade her. She hated when he played his mind-magic on her. From somewhere deep inside of her, a surge of defiance came flooding forward, and she forcefully shoved him from her mind. He stumbled backwards, and she decided she wouldn’t fight him, but she wouldn’t be a damsel in distress, awaiting the torture he thought to put her under to comply.
Deep down, she could feel this place was greater than simply a legacy. The shift in his demeanour was all she needed to acknowledge that this chamber was a living and breathing portion of his soul; a dark part of him she didn’t want to see.
“Tell me everything and I’ll make the Vow.”
“No, you make the Vow, or stay down here for eternity,” he snarled. Holding his stance, he seemed to dare her next move.
Dark blue eyes narrowed, and she supposed he thought the way he held his chin was intimidating. She smiled then; Salazar must have momentarily forgotten his opponent, but a quick backstep wasn’t going to get him out of this. She stepped the two steps forward that he had taken backwards, and as he was only a few inches taller than herself, she met his eyes. “I could get myself out of here before you could make it back to the trapdoor. Don’t flatter yourself.”
Rowena was not entirely sure what came over her. Anger surged and rolled along with fear and grief. The onslaught of emotions she felt was ranging from one to the next, and all she could do was roll with them like a ship on a harrowing sea.
Godric always said that Hogwarts would be there for anyone that truly needed it, and right now she felt herself inflating with a courage she wasn’t used to having. Magic bristled over her skin, making her dark hair frizz and flair out. Standing tall, she let the words slip from her tongue, ready to wound, “You are nothing without Hogwarts. No one will speak your name in reverence.”
“Quiet, you insolent fool!” Salazar roared. “You know nothing of which you speak. I will forever be known as the founding father of this school. I am the only person who saw it for what it should have been. You,” he spat, spittle thrown into her face along with his words, “have a soft spot for those that are not worthy of what we do here. You are brainless and one day, Rowena, you will see that I am right. I will rid this school of all those not worthy of magic.” His breathing was heavy, but she could tell he wasn’t done with his rant. “Their blemish on the school will be your doing, and when they perish, the cleansing will be mine!”
Paralyzed from the power of his words in this place, Rowena’s newfound courage proved itself short-lived. Salazar’s anger only seemed to fuel whatever this chamber lived off of.
“You, Rowena Ravenclaw, will make the Vow to me. You will promise me that you will not utter a word to anyone about this place, for it is the Chamber of Secrets, and you are not privy to what I will do with it. Now,” he screamed, flourishing his wand in the air, “kneel before me, and take the Vow.”
She felt her body comply with his words. Her mind reeled as she attempted to fight the order, but there was nothing she could do. The power of this place was far too encompassing, and it had a hold of her in a way she had never felt before.
Light shone from Salazar’s wand as he held it out and directed it at her. Her body dropped to the ground, her kneecaps hitting the stone with a sharp pain. Before she could register what was happening, he brought her arm up and entwined his fingers with her own. From within her own head, he commanded her words. She tried to fight him, but the steady heartbeat of the chamber grew louder, and she couldn’t drown it out. It echoed in her mind, demanding she do as she was told.
"I, Rowena Ravenclaw, Vow never to speak of this chamber you have created.”
As the spell’s flaming hot wire surrounded her arm, a vile liquid threatened to erupt from her throat, but she shoved it down. It was too late; her promise was wrapped around the snarling man opposite her forever.
Rowena was brought back to the present by the feeling of her bed shifting under the weight of the man now perched on the side. His body was too close, and she flinched away.
Even delirious from fever, she still needed to know. On that day, she had ended up back in her tower alone without any true idea of what had really happened down in the chamber with Salazar Slytherin. What had he done, and what was its purpose? The possibilities had haunted her private thoughts for years. “Salazar, tell me what you did?”
His eyes were dark – darker than ever before, and it scared her. What magic had he procured to change his soul? They had both aged greatly in a short time. Rowena’s once-dark hair, now lined with grey, lay thinly on her pillow. Salazar’s trials, too, showed on his body, his white hair frazzled and unkempt from his travels. His hands were as rough as ever, and the dirt caking his robes would normally have him in a fit.
“You haven’t forgotten the Vow, Rowena?” His words were heavy with anticipation.
It didn’t matter anymore though. She was sick. This was it. She knew this was her only chance.
“Tell me?”
He returned her question with a blank stare. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, and he shifted in his seat.
“Tell me,” she repeated. “I am on my deathbed. I will die whether I tell your secret or not. Convince me to not go ahead and tell Godric.”
After a moment, Salazar broke the quiet with a sly wink. “Oh, Rowena, my love. I know you won’t tell a soul. You are far too afraid of Death to call him too early. I will tell you though, and you can decide your own fate.” Salazar licked his lips, a disgusting movement that left her shivering. “In the chamber is something to rid the school of impurities – a basilisk.”
Her breath caught in her chest and with as much effort as she could, she gripped his arm. She tried to speak, but once again her body betrayed her efforts.
“You need not worry, my dear. It will happen well after your time. Rest easy, Rowena Ravenclaw.”
His words caught her by surprise. Fear for her school, her own legacy at risk of peril, was all due to this man. The shock was too much for her weakened and broken heart. As her final breath rattled through her, she stared into the narrowed, evil eyes of a man that cared too much of his own greed, and nothing of his own people.