Some of the delegation has begun to disperse as they return to their quarters to freshen up before having dinner in the Great Hall. Seeing the crowd begin to wane, Reginald makes his way to a group made up of various delegates of the Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA). With her back turned to him, Cedella Reid is loudly discussing with Sagamore, Chepi, and Jack Steward on how to implement the use of artifacts, wizlink, and the magical brain.
Approaching the group with caution, "Please excuse the interruption," Reginald politely but firmly interjected himself into the conversation. "I would request a private word with Delegate Steward."
Cedella Reid raises an eyebrow at the request but does not speak up on behalf of Jack Steward. There was no reason to decline the request. That and well, it seemed to be a private affair.
Jack's earth-colored eyes flash with a mix of emotions, wariness, and annoyance at being called out. He glances at Sagemore and Chepi, who do not appear to be startled or alarmed by the request.
Sagemore, with his eyes, subtly motions for Jack to accept. Sagemore knew Reginald Prince to be a proud, pureblood wizard who would never harm Jack in a public setting.
Not having a good reason to decline the invitation, Jack feigns a pleasant smile that does not reach his eyes. "Certainly, I have a few minutes to spare."
Reginald coolly gazes at the younger and shorter young man. With a gesture of his hand, he motions for Jack Steward to follow him. Unwillingly, Jack Steward follows Reginald through the throng of delegates and out of the Great Hall. With open curiosity, Jack Steward finds himself being led through Hogwarts.
Jack Steward inquisitively gazes at the shining mental suits in the hall. There are various statutes and magical portraits to study as they reach a side room of the Entrance Hall. There is a magical portrait of a bearded monkish wizard with a long, white, thin beard that almost fell to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes. The magical portrait did not seem to be slumbering; instead, the painted wizard had deliberately closed his eyes in meditation.
In the side room of the entrance hall, Reginald let Jack Steward study the portrait. Many students and staff did not know the portrait existed. Those who did would not easily recognize the portrait as being that of Salzar Slytherin, one of only two portraits known in existence. The second hung in the headmaster's office, part of the gallery of the Headmaster's and Headmistresses of Hogwarts.
This particular portrait of Salzar Slytherin guarded a secret shortcut between the Dungeon's antechamber to that of this particular Entrance Hall side room, which could be opened by using the phrase, "Mortal Dread."
"Why have you brought me here, Prince?" Jack Steward edgily asked, tired of waiting for Reginald Prince to speak.
"Do you not recognize the portrait?"
"If I did, I wouldn't be asking," Jack irritably snapped, before remembering who he was speaking to. "I apologize for my curtness, but I truly do not recognize the painted wizard."
"Our ancestor."
Jack blinks in surprise as his eyes dart back to the portrait. "I thought there weren't any portraits of him at Hogwarts, or so I was told."
"A common mistake," Reginald patiently corrected. "There exist two portraits. The one before us and the other inside the headmaster's office. Though that portrait remains equally as silent."
"The portraits of Salazar Slytherin do not speak?"
"Not just our ancestors, but all of the portraits of the founders. The portraits of the founders are enchanted to move but lack the ability to speak. Some historians argue it was the lack of talent by the painter, who was not able to capture their magical essence. Others suggest that it was the founders themselves who made the request to ensure the lasting legacy of Hogwarts. Though I suspect there is a simpler reasoning."
"Oh, which is what exactly?"
"They were some of the most prevailing witches and wizards of their era, but they were not without equally powerful enemies. I suspect their likeness was not painted until after their demise. The painter would have only met them in passing and would have only been able to capture their physical likeness."
"Not an unreasonable presumption," Jack sagely acknowledged the theory. "Though I suspect the reasoning behind their actions was for the founders to maintain their secrets even after death."
"No doubt that was their intent."
With his gaze on the portrait, Jack thoughtfully murmured, "He looks much more peaceful than I originally thought. I always imagined him to be sly, cunning, and full of arrogance. Yet he looks almost wise and serene here."
"Our ancestor was all those things," Reginald quietly responded with his gaze on the portrait. "Salzar Slytherin was passionate and vain, proud and cunning, hopeful and bitter, loyal and ambitious. He was much more than he was portrayed, a complicated man."
"He was a blood purist!" Jack coldly retorted and turned to face Reginald with a fierce expression. "How can you possibly stand there and defend his actions?"
"And how can you judge him with your limited understanding?" Reginald flatly countered. "Yes, Salazar Slytherin was a purist, but recall his time. His students were purebloods and half-bloods. It was the dark ages, when witches and wizards were killed. That can never be denied."
Jack steps back at the fierce tone of Reginald and feels a twinge of shame and guilt.
An acrimonious expression appeared on Reginald's face. "Those killed were primarily defenseless half-bloods and muggleborn children and youths who could not wield wands in defense against the same muggles, who once they called friends, family, and townsmen."
Jack blinks in realization for the first time. Yes, Salazar Slytherin did all those things that he was accused of. Yet he was also much more than his accusations and portrayal.
"Salazar Slytherin loathed muggles for their vile brutality and chosen ignorance in the face of reasoning," Reginald coolly said. "However, he did not impose his view on the other founders, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw, who favored the muggleborn and even muggles. Despite their differences and beliefs, they still came together to create Hogwarts."
Raising his gaze to meet the eyes of Jack Steward, Reginald firmly says, "It is not my intent to influence or change your mind regarding our ancestor. Rather, to beseech and implore that he be seen for more than he has been portrayed. I for one am not ashamed of him and neither should ye."
Leaving Jack time to gather his thoughts, the corner of Reginald's lips rises upward as he turns back to peer at the meditating portrait. "I have two grandchildren, and one of them is a parselmouth. My granddaughter even hid her ability from me in fear and shame."
"I cannot change the past," Reginald reflectively turned back to gaze at his distant kin, Jack Steward. "I yearn for a world where my descendants or any descendant of our ancestor, Salzar Slytherin, along with any parselmouth, to confidently hold their heads high without shame of their gift, for they have nothing to be ashamed of."
Slowly, Jack nodded his head in understanding of what was being asked of him. He wasn't asked to pardon Salazar Slytherin of his sins. Rather see the man that Salzar Slytherin had been in his entirety, not just the bad, but also the good. There was always a choice, and, in that choice, they could hold their heads without shame.
"Thank you," Jack sincerely thanked Reginald Prince, his distant kin, for the profound lesson and bowed deeply to the elder wizard to show his sincerity and appreciation.
"You are most welcome," Reginald returned the gesture with a small bow of his own.
Rising to his full height, a cheeky smile appeared on the face of Jack. "If you're ever in the United States, I would be honored to be called upon. I will gladly arrange a tour and meeting with my family."
"Ever so unlikely," Reginald loudly sniffed, greatly resembling his sister, Georgine, in that moment. Why in Merlin's name would he ever be caught trekking across the New World?! Utterly absurd!
Seeing the affronted expression on Reginald Prince's face, Jack wisely withheld a chuckle. He politely excused himself and headed back to the Great Hall. Once out of sight, he allowed a wide smile to appear across his face. He had tweaked the tail of the Zouwu in good fun. It was definitely a memory he would cherish with a smile.