#*writing psots

There was Arcturus Black, standing at the front of the crowd with an overconfident smug. The child was irritating at best, but Salazar knew quite a lot of the Black family to be convinced that he would make a brilliant pureblood wizard. After all, their motto was toujours pur.

Then there were the Greengrass twins - Agatha and Solon. It was a wonderful rarity to see twins in his lifetime, and rarer still for them to be so starkly different as the twins before him. Agatha had olive skin and long midnight black hair, while Solon had short, white blonde hair that almost blended with his alabaster skin. They were the best dressed of the crowd, of course. Nothing but the best was to be expected from the Greengrass family.

Those of lesser note were Diodorus Nott, Annabella Burke, Merwyn Yates, and Richard Smithson. They came from known pureblood families, but they were working class families, and Salazar really only took them under his wing out of pity. Although, Salazar was mildly impressed with the cunning that fourteen year-old Richard exhibited - even if he was a bit dim for his age.

And, last but not least, there was Merlin. He was standing at the back of the group, his face void of expression. He was dressed in the same forest green robes that Salazar had provided to all eight of his new students, but he seemed uncomfortable in the garb. Salazar expected great things from him, as the only parselmouth in the group.

"There are benches and chairs scattered around," Salazar continued, gesturing around the common area of the dungeons that would house his students, "as well as tables, should you need to write anything. We will be teaching you how to read and write, of course. The fireplace is there, and please, do not bother the - "

"Is that a mermaid?"

Suddenly, all eight children rushed to one of the windows overlooking the depths of the Black Lake to try to get a look at the merperson peering into the dungeons with blatant disgust. Salazar could sympathize.

"Ahem."

The chatter stopped abruptly and all of the children turned to face Salazar, who now had a very displeased look on his face. "As I was saying, do not bother the creatures of the Black Lake."

"Why is it called the Black Lake, sir?" Arcturus asked with a smug smirk. Salazar did not doubt that the insolent child thought it was named for his family.

"Because it is believed to be bottomless," Salazar replied stoically.

Arcturus's smirk dropped. "Is - is that true?"

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "If you keep interrupting me, you will be able to find out," he answered. "Now, what was I saying? Ah, yes, do not bother the creatures of the Black Lake. The wizards' rooms are up those stairs, while the witches' rooms are up the opposite stairs. You will find two spare sets of forest green robes on your bed, supplied by the house elves, along with fresh parchment, quills, and ink. Please do not use the parchment unless you are asked to do so by a professor. Now, are there any questions?"

Annabella stuck up a shaking hand. Salazar nodded towards her. "How will we wash our robes?"

"There are baskets at the entrances of your rooms," Salazar explained. "Place your soiled clothing in there and the house elves will have them washed within the day. Anyone else?"

No more hands went up. Salazar gave them all a curt nod and exited the dungeons. The portrait did not even fully swing shut behind him when he heard the room erupt into chatter. With a roll of his eyes, Salazar strode down the halls and far away from the noise.

"Is it true?"

"Speaking to snakes - what a gift!"

"Can you show us?"

"There isn't a snake around, you insipid girl!"

"Maybe he has a pet snake!"

Merlin could felt his eyes widen as the room filled with more and more questions about his skill - or gift, as some called it. Questions that he could not really answer. Questions that he had asked himself. Each word was like a slap on his cheek or a hit on the head.

He wanted nothing more than to escape the rambunctious crowd and hide in his bed. A real bed. He still struggled to believe that. It was what Helga had promised him when she found him trying to break into the kitchens of a pub, and the soft-spoken Welsh woman did not seem like a liar to Merlin.

The boisterous chatter seemed to divert from questioning Merlin to the now bickering Greengrass twins. Merlin took the opportunity to run up to the wizards' rooms and escape the noise. He ran into the first room and shut the door behind him, leaned his back on it with a sigh of relief.

"Ah!"

Merlin shakily drew his wand and pointed at the silhouette in the room. The person slowly stepped forward, and the light revealed it to be Salazar. Merlin lowered his wand and gaped at the towering man.

From the moment Merlin had seen him, he knew that Salazar Slytherin was a powerful and ambitious man. His black hair was cut short in the Roman fashion that was often mocked, yet the nobleman wore it proudly. His beard was equally peculiar - almost like a sharpened point of obsidian. And yet, Salazar Slytherin had the most evident grace out of all of the Founders sitting at that floating table. Godric had been too boisterous for Merlin's taste, and Rowena attempted to exhibit a man's grace, which only clashed with her woman's grace in a very confusing way. Helga, meanwhile, emitted the aura of a loving mother, and that made it difficult for Merlin to look at her like some godly being.

Salazar, on the other hand, was a marble statue. Stoic and not a fibre of his being out of place. And, most certainly, not someone that would bend his knee for the comfort of others.

"I - I thought you left," Merlin stuttered out.

"I did," Salazar said in agreement. "This castle has many secrets."

Silence filled the room and made Merlin feel like his ears were ringing.

"I must discuss some matters with you, Merlin," Salazar started. "You must know that you are an extremely special boy."

"No."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"I'm jus' a boy, sir," Merlin replied meekly. "There isn' one special thing 'bout me."

"Well, we will have to work on that horrid accent of yours," Salazar agreed, "but you have more potential than any of the children in that crowd."

"I do?" Merlin asked cautiously.

"Yes, of course. Let me see that wand of yours," Salazar said.

Merlin handed him the wand and twirled it between his fingers. His eyes trailed across it as if he was attempting to memorize every groove. He gripped it with his left hand and wielded it, aiming at a wall. A bright light burst out of the tip and shattered a lantern. Then, Salazar swished the wand again and the lantern was repaired. With a small frown on his face, he handed the wand back to Merlin.

"Very interesting," he said. "Wood of oak, phoenix feather core. Very rare, and very powerful."

"Does it matter?" Merlin asked as he eyed the wand warily.

Salazar's stoic demeanour faltered for a split second before he coldly replied, "Of course it does. The wand makes the wizard."

Merlin looked from his wand and into Salazar's eyes. "M' father was killed by magic from a wandless wizard, though. He was more powerful, even without a wand."

Salazar was silent for a moment, his mind scrambling for a proper answer. "Wandless magic is archaic," he finally said. "While some wandless wizards are strong, they can only do so much without a wand. You are powerful without a wand, Merlin. Imagine what you can do with one."

The wizard makes the wand, not the other way around. Always remember that, son. That was the first lesson his father had given Merlin, but the young boy wasn't sure if he would win an argument with Salazar.

"What's so special 'bout me?" Merlin asked.

"As a parselmouth, you have the world at your fingertips," Salazar answered. "Once you improve that skill, sharpen it like a warrior's sword... anything will be possible for you, Merlin."

"Is tha' what I'm called?" Merlin questioned. "Parselmouth? Persons tha' can speak ta snakes?"

Salazar nodded. "I am one, as well, and it is an amazing gift. People will call it a skill, but only the best of wizards are gifted with this skill."

"So you can teach me?" Merlin asked eagerly.

"I will be teaching you a lot of things in these coming years, Merlin," Salazar confirmed. "That brings me to my most important point. In your time here at Hogwarts, people will attempt to steer you in the wrong direction. You should not let them, Merlin. You are a strong, powerful wizard, and you should not allow yourself to be brought down for the benefit of others."

"I should try ta be selfish, then?"

A faint smile graced Salazar's stony features. "No, Merlin. You must be selfish."

Merlin walked down the staircase with heavy steps and prayed to whichever deity happened to exist that they would not swing around for the third time that morning. His stomach grumbled in agreement.

He nearly let out a sigh of relief when he placed his foot on the main floor, but he was cut short by another body hurtling into his back. Merlin stumbled forward, then swiftly turned around to face his attacker. It was a tall, gangly boy with a crooked smile on his face. He was dressed in the royal blue robes of house Ravenclaw.

"Can you believe it?" the boy asked. "They's feeding us, too. I woulda taken to books long ago if I knew that! Mah name's Uric, by the way."

Merlin nodded faintly as the boy sped into the Great Hall. He followed after him, and was shocked to see four tables taking up the previously empty room. Each long table was covered in a cloth to resemble the house colours. Merlin made for the table with the forest green cloth.

He sat down next to one of the witches - Annabella, if he remembered correctly - and across from Arcturus. There was a bowl of cooked barley in front of him and... Merlin's eyes widened considerably as he took in the small burgundy slab resting on top of the gruel.

He could not remember the last time he ate meat, but he was quite sure that it was from a squirrel his father had caught, and the strip of meat in his bowl of barley looked a lot more fatty.

"Barley and pork," Arcturus said with a trace of disgust. "Is this what one must suffer through for a good education?"

Pork? Merlin continued to gape at his bowl. He had never before seen actual pork. His parents never had enough money for that, but if Arcturus was right...

Merlin did not waste another second. He grabbed his spoon and dug into his meal before it could disappear. He noticed Arcturus watching him with a grimace in the corner of his eye, but Merlin did not particularly care. They came from different worlds, and he was not about to stop eating the most amazing meal he ever had for the sake of justifying his animalistic behaviour.

As Salazar led his students out of the Great Hall to begin lessons, Merlin could not help but admire the structure of the castle. It was enormous and very sturdily built. It felt as if every stone held some magic in it, and most of the walls were covered in talking portraits. The portraits were mostly of Ravenclaws, according to the plaques, which Merlin found curious. He resolved to ask Salazar about it, if the opportunity presented itself.

The group entered a room in the dungeons of the castle. Salazar wordlessly waved to the tables and chairs around the room and the students took this as an order to take their seats while he took his place at the front of the room. Each table had a clay jar with a lid in the centre.

Salazar did not even pause before starting his lesson. "Today, we will be studying a particular jinx. Can anyone tell me what a jinx is?"

His question was followed by silence.

"Of course you cannot," Salazar continued with an unpleased edge to his voice. "It is a form of Dark Magic. Jinxes are minor Dark Magic. Hexes, which we will touch on soon, are moderate. Curses, which we will learn about a little later, are the most severe form of Dark Magic. Does that make sense?"

The students nodded collectively.

"First, the Stinging Jinx," Salazar started. "The incantation is mordeo, with an emphasis on the first 'o.' The key to jinxes is to keep your movements decisive and firm. Now - "

Salazar pulled out his wand and swished it. As soon as he did that, all of the lids on the clay pots rose to the ceiling, and the objects inside floated out. The objects were rats - very large and likely dead, but seemingly preserved - and they each came to land in front of a student.

"Practice your stinging jinx on these rat corpses," Salazar ordered. "Remember: mordeo. Decisive and firm."

Merlin looked around at the students at his table. Merwyn had a peculiarly pleased expression on his face, Annabella was turning an interesting shade of green, and Diodorus had inched away from the table. Merlin returned his gaze to his rat.

The thing was grotesque, but he had seen plenty of rats in his short life. Dealing with them was necessary when stealing from pubs was the only way he could get food.

Merlin stood up from his seat and backed away a few feet. He firmly wielded his wand toward the rat and shouted, "Mordeo!"

A white light shot from the tip of his wand and hit the rat, causing it to jump slightly, as if the magic jolted some reflex. Only a few seconds later, its skin began to bubble and swell around a red scorch mark.

"Very good, Merlin," Salazar praised from behind the boy. He looked towards the rest of the class. "What are you all waiting for? The spell will not come out of your wands without your magic."

Merlin sat back down at the table as Salazar moved away from him and milled around the room. There was a strange tingling sensation running through his fingers. He itched to pull out his wand and try again. Another rat, another spell, another target.

There was something about magic that made it simultaneously frightening and addicting for Merlin.

Once every student had successfully performed the spell, Salazar dismissed them and allowed them to go to the Great Hall for lunch. Merlin was pushing his chair in when Rowena Ravenclaw strode into the room. He hung his head and started to walk out of the room, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I am here for you, child," Rowena declared as she removed her hand from his shoulder. She looked up and her gaze met Salazar's. "Surely, Salazar, you do not mind if I steal Merlin away for a mere moment. Only to give him some advice on his practice."

Merlin looked back at his mentor, who was standing in the middle of the room now, cold and stony gaze fixed on Rowena. The young boy could not help but notice how Salazar did not move to greet Rowena like men were expected to greet noblewomen - a small curtsy and a kiss on the hand. He wondered if this was because of Rowena's attempt to exert leadership befitting of a man, or if it was for another reason entirely.

"No, of course not," Salazar replied cooly. His eyes moved to meet Merlin's. "Remember our discussion, Merlin."

Merlin nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."

"Come boy," Rowena said to Merlin as her hand rested on his back and guided him out of the room. After they turned a corner, she asked, ""What have you been learning under the supervision of Slytherin?"

"We did a simple jinx today, but he says we're ta learn some hexes and curses, too," Merlin answered.

"Did you enjoy the lesson?" she asked kindly. When Merlin looked up at her, though, her gaze held a mischievous glint.

"That depends," Merlin replied vaguely.

"Oh? On what?"

"On what the professors want me ta be speakin' of their classes."

Rowena laughed airily. "You are a very smart boy," she decided. "I want you to speak the truth. There is nothing that I value more than the truth."

Merlin paused, thinking of a proper answer. "Truthfully, Lady Rowena, there's not much exciting 'bout the jinx," he said. "There's no one we can be throwin' 'em at, and I wouldn' want to, really. Even if I had to, there mus' be easier ways to win a duel."

"Well, Merlin, there are easier ways," Rowena said in agreement as she stopped in front of a room. "I wish to teach you, if that is appropriate."

"As long as it wouldn' be against Professor Slytherin's wishes, then I s'pose I'll learn,"