Mistakes of Past

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To the Heir of Slytherin,

By the time you read this, the world has changed much since I walked its paths. Yet, some things remain the same—those who wield magic will always face threats from both within and outside our kind. You, who carry my bloodline, must understand the burden and the power that comes with it. Hogwarts, as it stands, is not just a place of learning. It is the fortress we built to ensure our survival.

In the days of its creation, wizards and witches were not as they are now. We lived in fear, hunted like beasts. The Muggles, driven by ignorance and superstition, gathered in mobs, seeking out those of magical blood. But it was not just their fear that we faced. Some among our own—wizards and witches—swore their loyalty to Muggle kings and rulers. They turned against their own kind, using magic to hunt us, guiding the Muggle armies to our doors, ensuring the destruction of our people. These traitors were the greatest threat. Magic, in the hands of those who wished for power over loyalty, nearly tore our world apart.

Godric, Rowena, Helga, and I knew that something had to be done. We could no longer hide scattered and vulnerable. So, we created Hogwarts, a stronghold of learning and defense, where the young and the skilled could grow in safety. But this was never meant to be a sanctuary alone—it was a bastion. A place from which we could safeguard the future of magic itself. And it was always meant to serve as a defense against those who would see our kind destroyed.

At the time, there were many among us who believed that Muggle-borns could never be trusted. After all, it was their ancestors who had led the witch hunters to our kind. I, too, was wary. I proposed a system—a way of ensuring that only those who truly understood the weight of our power could enter our world. A reference system, based on trust and loyalty, where magic could be passed down only to those who respected it. But my intention was twisted by those who came after me. They turned my idea into something far more sinister—into the obsession with pure blood.

Blood was never the issue. Loyalty was. There were Muggle-borns who would have died to protect us, just as there were pure-bloods who sold us out to the highest bidder. What mattered, and what still matters, is how one wields their magic and where their loyalty lies.

I hid the basilisk not to purge the school of Muggle-borns, but to defend Hogwarts and all witches and wizards loyal to magic. Those who twisted my words into a doctrine of pure-blood superiority never understood my true intention. Even my closest friends—Godric, Rowena, and Helga—misinterpreted my actions. They believed I had turned against the very principles we built this school on. It was easier to leave than to stay and fight a battle of ideals.

And so, I became a symbol, a cautionary tale for those who would come after. I was cast out, and my name was tarnished. But I did not mind, for in the end, Hogwarts remained. It became the safe haven we intended, even if my legacy was overshadowed by the misinterpretations of those who followed. I chose to disappear from the pages of history, but my creations—the Chamber, the basilisk—remained as silent guardians, waiting for an heir who could see the truth.

Even centuries before my time, I read and heard of those who lusted for more power. It was an endless cycle—wizards and witches seeking ways to extend their influence, to hold dominion over others. The greed of humanity knows no bounds, and the fear of death drives even the strongest to madness. They pursue power not to protect but to conquer, and that is their undoing.

In my time, I witnessed this same hunger growing among our own people. Many believed that mastery over magic meant mastery over life itself. Some sought immortality, while others desired control over forces beyond their understanding. The further they reached, the closer they came to tearing the fabric of our world apart. My dear student Merlin and I worked together to uncover the depths of magic's potential, not to exploit it, but to safeguard it. We sought to understand the very essence of magic, to wield it with responsibility, knowing that it could just as easily destroy us as it could save us.

We learned much, yet the most important lesson was this: magic is not a tool to conquer death or to control others. It is a gift, and one that must be handled with caution. The pursuit of power, when driven by fear or greed, leads only to ruin. Those who seek to escape death will go to any lengths to achieve it, forsaking all loyalty, all bonds, for a fleeting grasp at eternity. Although we disagreed with Merlin on this, as he sought to use it as a tool to protect ourselves and all witches and wizards. To preserve our race. He believed that magic, if wielded with enough skill and foresight, could shield us from the inevitable march of time and death. His intentions were noble, but I feared that even the best of intentions would lead us down a dangerous path. For in seeking to conquer death, we would risk losing what makes us truly human—our ability to live, love, and let go.

I do not know in which era this letter will find its way to you. Time is a fickle thing, and the world changes. But I hope it is not too late. I hope that you, my heir, will remember the lessons of the past and choose a different path. The power of Hogwarts is vast, and the secrets I have left behind may tempt you. But know this: the choices you make will define your legacy. Will you be remembered for wisdom and loyalty to magic, or for the same greed that has consumed so many before?

You, Heir of Slytherin, stand at a crossroads. The castle is yours to protect, its secrets yours to uncover. Whether you will continue what I started or forge your own path is up to you. Just remember: power must be tempered with wisdom, and loyalty to magic is what will ultimately safeguard our world. Beware those who seek to control it for their own ends.

The fate of Hogwarts, and perhaps the future of our world, rests in your hands now. Choose wisely.

Salazar Slytherin

Harry lowered the letter, taking in a sharp breath. He hadn't expected all this. He'd already guessed Slytherin wasn't the villain everyone preached about, but reading it here—Salazar's own words, no less—made things click. The man had plans for Hogwarts, real ideas, not some twisted obsession with blood purity. If anyone was honest, Slytherin's aims had been more about loyalty and trust. But those came after him had warped it into something else, something cheap.

The whole setup—the basilisk, the Chamber, even the idea of Hogwarts itself as a fortress against outsiders—it all made sense in this light. Salazar had wanted Hogwarts to protect its own, magic over blood. And now Harry had somehow fallen into the role of safeguarding what Slytherin had started.

He set the letter down, his eyes trailing over the rows of artifacts. Half of them were just strange, mystical objects. A few of them looked like they could pack a punch in the right hands, but he needed to figure out what was actually worth keeping and what was more historical baggage.

Walking to a stack of old books, he grabbed one and flipped through the pages, skimming lines of Parselrunes. There were spells, strange symbols, and a lot of information that would take weeks to decode. He shook his head, slipping the book into his bag anyway. He'd sort it out later.

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