Chapter 78
When Albert finally awoke from his deep sleep, fragments of the previous night flooded back into his mind. Then he suddenly remembered—
The letter.
He sat upright, panic fluttering in his chest. He had taken that mysterious letter from the hidden Chamber of Secrets. If it had slipped from his pocket during his escape…
Heart racing, Albert searched his robes and trousers until his fingers brushed the folded parchment in his pocket. He let out a sigh of relief and carefully retrieved it.
On the back of the letter, a line of text in elegant, silver script caught his eye:
"This letter will burn to ash upon the reader's completion."
Albert raised an eyebrow.
"Burn on its own? Hah… we'll see about that."
He had no patience for riddles. Whatever secrets Salazar Slytherin had left behind, Albert wanted them now. He broke the seal and began to read.
---
The letter opened with Slytherin's own words, a confession and an explanation for his departure from Hogwarts.
To Albert's surprise, Salazar did not present himself as the dark, twisted sorcerer history had painted. His first declaration was simple:
"I live by my own will. I harm none who do not threaten me. I pursue what I desire."
Albert frowned, reading carefully. Such a man had no reason to lie in a letter meant only for his chosen heir.
Then why do the generations call him a Dark Wizard? Albert wondered, and continued reading.
The next passages chronicled Slytherin's rift with the other three founders. From the school's very first year, they clashed on a single question:
How should magic be taught?
The Europe of that era had been steeped in shadow—plagued by endless wars, superstition, and the rise of true Dark Wizards. In such an age, forbidden magic that granted rapid personal power was alluring to many.
Hogwarts had been created as a beacon, a fortress where magical knowledge could be passed down to protect the next generation and slowly turn the tide against the darkness.
Salazar's proposal had been, in his own words, "cold but necessary":
Admit only the children of pure-blooded families.
Avoid those tied to Muggle relatives, who were vulnerable to coercion.
Focus the school's scarce resources on students who were most likely to survive and excel.
He argued that the Muggle-born were not evil—but in a brutal, unshielded world, they were liabilities.
Albert paused, his brow furrowing.
The logic was… unpleasant. Ruthless. But not without merit.
Slytherin went on to describe the stark reality of that age:
Many Muggle-born children could not even read or write upon arrival.
Rare magical herbs and resources required dangerous expeditions into cursed forests.
A single betrayal—intentional or not—could expose the school to Dark Wizards.
"In times of scarcity," the letter read, "resources must serve the strongest first, that the strong might shield the weak."
The other founders—Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff—rejected this reasoning.
"We seek a school of hope, not a fortress of survival," Gryffindor had said.
The letter darkened as it recounted what followed.
Slytherin had abided by the vote. He taught pure-bloods with rigor, but he did not expel those the others accepted.
Then came the tragedy.
Hogwarts in its earliest years lacked the enchanted protections it now boasted. A band of Dark Wizards discovered the school. Several Slytherin students were slaughtered in a raid. Salazar himself hunted down the attackers in rage and killed them without mercy.
The other founders did not protest the killings—these were dark times, and justice was swift. But from that day forward, Slytherin changed.
He began to teach the Dark Arts openly.
Not because he reveled in them… but because he believed that to defeat darkness, one must know its face. His lessons were dangerous, his methods strict. To the outside world, the image was clear:
Salazar Slytherin, Master of Dark Magic.
Over the years, fear and rumor twisted into legend. Even after he chose to leave Hogwarts—to prevent a permanent schism—the story warped further. To Muggles and young wizards alike, he became the villain of the tale.
Albert's grip tightened on the parchment.
Thousands of years had turned a man of vision into a monster of myth. Even his own descendants wore the title of "Dark Wizard" with pride, blind to the truth of his purpose.
Albert exhaled slowly, a single thought flickering in his mind:
If Salazar Slytherin could see the state of his legacy… he'd claw his way out of the grave to strangle the fools who tarnished it.
To be continued …