Masterlist of My Old 30_hath fics

[eldabe]

30_hath was a challenge-a-day community in the spirit of 31_days, but for Harry Potter fic only. I joined it forever and ever ago, and I really enjoyed it, but it was closed down. I'm reposting all of my fics below so that I have them saved somewhere for myself. The titles link to the original entries.

I HAVE EDITED THESE FICS LIGHTLY FOR GRAMMAR. BECAUSE CLEARLY I'M NOT VERY GOOD AT IT.

Title: Another Set of Eyes
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: October 5th-what their opinions have made of them
Character/Pairing: Death Eaters
Genre/Warnings (as applicable): Written in a hurry, so it may have some mistakes.
Rating: PG

They gathered behind their leader, a great and powerful man. He promised them a perfect future and they would fight and die for him, follow him blindly, and rely on his strength to guide them.

Their beliefs were few, and strict, their opinions harsh, and certain.

They were the few, the strong, a minority of a minority and they carried their titles with pride.

Now they huddle behind bars, no more than skin stretched over bones and eyes that glare. They cry out in their sleep and deny their pain upon awakening. They can show no weakness, for they are the most loyal to their master, and they would never deny their true beliefs.

They wait, hated by the world and outcasts of the community they tried to purify. They long for the freedom to cure that same world of its wrongs.

Look now. See what their opinions have made of them.

Title: Crown Jewels
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: October 7th-a gleam of courting each of her two royal eyes
Character/Pairing: James Potter and Lily Evans (Not yet a pair)
Genre/Warnings (as applicable): The last line is kinda...ergh. Suggestions for improvement are welcome.
Rating: G

Lily Evans was royalty.

James Potter wasn’t sure when he came to that conclusion, but it was probably around third year, when he discovered that there was more to girls then high-pitched shrieks after a good prank.

It was also around the time when he decided girls had to be made from precious gems. They were far to pretty to be made from anything else. James spent two days studying Lily during class before he came to the decision that her pale, perfect skin was made from diamonds and yellow sapphires. Her hair, which she wore long and loose, was made from rubies of all shades and cuts, fit together perfectly. And her eyes were two emeralds, chosen for their sparkling beauty.

By his fifth year he discovered that girls were too soft to be made from anything as hard as stone. They were made from marshmallows and clouds and they all smelt of springtime flowers.

And James was more convinced then ever that Lily had to be some sort of princess Why not? Lily was smart, pretty and Muggle-born. Who knows how that daft Muggle system worked, anyway? Lily was probably high in line for the throne and had to sneak away every year to attend Hogwarts. It made perfect sense.

During sixth year, James decided that other girls didn’t really matter anymore. He doubted whether she noticed that difference in his numerous requests for a date, or the seriousness with which he began to write her letters. But James was different after sixth year, and Lily seemed to notice it when they met up over the summer at Diagon Alley.

“Oh, hello James,” she said, looking surprised. And the way in which she said it, softer and kinder then any time in school, made him smile honestly, rather then mockingly, and look straight at her. He noticed her eyes then, sparkling emeralds like always, but they were eyes too, and they blinked at him.

“These are my parents,” she said, and James politely nodded to her mother, and shook her father’s hand. Neither of them could possibly be royalty, James saw. They were both kind and earthly and neither of them wore a crown. And Lily wasn’t really made of diamonds, and she didn’t taste of marshmallows, but to James it didn’t matter anymore, and he finally admitted to himself that it never did.

It was just a dream, a gleam of desire, to maybe have to chance to finally court her, her and her two, perfect, royal, eyes.

Title: Celebration of the Innocent
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: October 8th-hard times will come
Character/Pairing: Dumbledore, and Marauder-era characters.
Genre/Warnings (as applicable): Another rushed piece, not perfect.
Rating: G

“I declare this toast,” Sirius Black declared, climbing on the table, “to dear old Godric, without whom none of this would possible!”

A general cheer went up as Sirius downed the goblet. Dumbledore smiled as Sirius jumped down from the table, to make way for a Ravenclaw to sand up on his chair and deliver a slightly more serious toast. But not much more serious. Tonight was the graduation party for the seventh-years.

Tradition dictated that tonight they commandeer the Great Hall until the younger students began arriving for breakfast the next day. Tomorrow would be for sleeping, hurried packing, and last good-byes.

But tonight was for celebration.

Dumbledore entered the Great Hall after a Slytherin gave a particularly spirited toast. It took a few moments for the students to notice the presence of the headmaster, and they began to settle down from their spirited celebrations. There was a moment of awkward silence until someone, probably Sirius Black, began chanting, “speech, speech!” The cheer was immediately adopted by the rest of the crowd, and soon Dumbledore found himself pulled in front of the table by the James Potter and Lily Evans, acting in their capacity as Head Boy and Head Girl.

Dumbledore looked down the table, seeing all of his seventh-years gathered around a single table, house loyalties abandoned in favor of the common bond of graduation. He smiled broadly at the students and began. “Tonight is your second-to-last night in this castle, under the watchful eye of myself and all of your extremely tired teachers.”

Many of the students laughed at that. Their eager eyes reflected at Dumbledore, and he paused afraid for the innocence he saw there. How could he possibly protect them? How could he warn them that even now a past student was gathering followers to dim the light and happiness they still saw in the world? How could he properly equip them for all the trouble that lay in the road for them?

“Hard times will come,” he began uncertainly, and he stopped. There was no way to warn them in a way then would understand. Not tonight. He stopped and turned helplessly to the closest figure, James Potter, who was grinning at him, drunk on happiness. Something in his eyes caused James’s eyes to widen in response, and sober up. James stepped forward, taking the platform from Dumbledore.

“And I’m sure we’re properly prepared for them, Professor,” James said, in a lightly mocking tone, “After all, you’ve taught us everything we know.”

Then James winked, and Dumbledore saw Sirius Black whip out his wand and point across the Hall. Fireworks began ricocheting across the floor, causing shrieks from some girls and laughter from everyone else.

“We thought we’d start with something harmless, more fun will come later,” James promised the crowd, and they cheered.

Dumbledore retreated then, seeing that the party was in good hands. He saw Lily begin to admonish James, and James respond with a kiss. No, tonight was not the night for warnings. Tomorrow night, when everyone would be solemn with the realization that Hogwarts would be over for them forever, then he would try to warn them

For tonight, at least, they would celebrate, heedless of the times to come.

Title: Cold Logic
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: October 9th-the anger of lovers
Character/Pairing: Implied Salazar/Rowena, Godric and Helga mentioned.
Rating: PG
Author's Note This didn't end up anything like I imagined, but it's my first Founders piece-I don't know if I've mentally figured out their characters yet. Oh, and I'm not sure if I ship Salazar/Rowena, but that's how it came to me from the prompt.

“Fascinating,” she whispered, the glare on her spectacles rendering her eyes invisible.

“Fascinating?” He nearly exploded with rage. Instead of siding with him as she was supposed to, she chose to stand on the sidelines, choosing neither him nor that insufferable fool! “Fascinating?” He repeated, his eyes narrowing in response to her blankness, “You cannot truly think that half-bloods could possible have the same capacity for magic as purebloods, can you?”

Rowena shifted slightly, and Salazar had a brief view of her eyes. They were speculative, as if she was truly considering Godric’s side of the argument.

“It would be difficult to test,” she mused, “as there may be as much variation among Muggle-born wizards as there is among the Magic-born…”

Salazar stared at her, aghast. “You…you cannot be serious!”

Rowena leaned forward. “Of course I am. You cannot make such a harsh judgment unless you can back it up, Salazar. And Helga has a point. Who are we to make such a judgment?”

Salazar brought his fist down on the table between them. “This is our school!”

Rowena lifted her goblet of wine. “Yes, Salazar. Our school, not yours. We have to agree on all decisions.”

Salazar turned his head to the side, angrily refusing to meet her eyes. So he had begun to think of ht school as “his”. He had contributed more then any of the others...his lips curled up briefly, remembering a secret cavern that only he could open…

Rowena stood up suddenly, slamming her goblet down on the table. “This is our school, we are equal in everything. I refuse to allow you to keep secrets from me!”

Salazar smirked at her. “Who said I’m keeping any secrets?”

He had the upper hand now. It drove Rowena mad to think that there might be something she didn’t know. It was rare to see her passionate about anything, but knowledge was always her weakness .

Rowena glowered angrily for a moment, then tossed her hair and began buttoning up her robe. “Fine, Salazar,” she said, “if we cannot work together as equals, then I refuse to work with you at all.”

Salazar rocked back in his chair, shocked. Never had she been so decisive about anything in the real world. Normally she was non-committal about anything that wasn’t in the abstract logic, where she ruled.

Rowena picked up her books and began heading for the door. “And I must agree with Godric and Helga. Muggle-born children deserve the same education as any witch or wizard. And so my decision will remain, Slalazar, unless you can convince me otherwise.”

And with that, she left the room. A goblet exploded as Salazar’s anger spilled over. “Foolish woman!” He spat after her.

She had upset the balance. Not that it had ever been perfect. Helga, the fool, blindly followed Godric in all his decisions. Rowena, on the other hand, had always hovered in between Salazar and Godric, leaning toward Salazar’s cold logic in most situations, but when she was seized by a sudden conscious, she had been known to agree with Godric. Here seemed to be one of those times.

He sat back down on his chair, breathing heavily. Fine, then. He had lost an important argument about the running of the school. And almost worse, Rowena had abandoned him, perhaps forever.

Salazar cooled his anger until it was ice-cold, until it fueled his logical thoughts to the inevitable. He could not stay here. He could not stay in a school overrun with impure blood, controlled by the three people who had betrayed him at every turn.

As Salazar Slytherin prepared to leave the school, he did not stop to ponder the implications of his actions. He did not wonder that perhaps, in his anger, he was destroying the unity that might one day be the symbol of Hogwarts. To Slytherin, who craved power beyond anything else, there was no unity. There never had been.

Title: Abandon
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: October 10th-who cannot forgive himself
Character/Pairing: Regulus Black.
Rating: PG
Author's Note Written at the absolute last second, but I had to do this.I intended it to be a two-parter, with Sirius's response to Regulus's death, but I don't have time. Maybe I'll add a link to the second part later.

Regulus Black pushed open the door to his brother's room. It creaked, and he closed the door behind him quickly. The room was covered in a light layer of dust, left exactly the was it had been years before when Sirius stormed out. Regulus staggered over to the bed and fell over onto it. He lay there for a moment, then slid off the bed onto the floor, and he pulled his knees against his chest in the fetal position. He stared across the room as his brother's dresser.

"Sirius, I don't know what to do," he choked, and then he coughed at the small cloud of dust he had caused by sliding off the bed. He buried his face in his hands and began to sob.

"I've done horrible-horrible things, Sirius," he sobbed. "And I've seen-" He took a shaky breath. "Bellatrix killed someone yesterday, Sirius. Tortured them and killed them and laughed about it. He wasn't even a muggle, Sirius. He was a pure-blooded wizard and he was just trying to h-help."

Regulus rubbed his eyes and sniffed. He lowered his voice to even more of a whisper, keeping his eyes focused on one spot on the floor. "And Sirius, I've heard a few things. You're friend, James? The one you always hung out with in Hogwarts? Their after him, Sirius. I don't know why, but there are. I want to warn you, but I don't think you'll listen to me, not any more."

Regulus took a deep, calming breath. He had to say this, at least once, even if no one ever heard him.

"The Dark Lord-you were right, he isn't doing this for anyone's good but his own. Did you know he split his soul into pieces? He isn't human, Sirius, not anymore, and it's getting harder and harder to defeat him. I think...I think I might know a way to make him weaker, Sirius. But it's dangerous. I might not come back. And I just want you to know...I want you to know that I'm sorry, okay? I'm really, really sorry." And Regulus buried his head in his knees and began to sob.

Title: Warped Justice
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: October 16th-die unknown
Character/Pairing: Mrs. Crouch (Do we ever find out her first name?)
Rating: PG
Author's Note Credit for this idea goes to CindyVortex9, who let me use her idea graciously, although I'm not sure I did it justice. I would also like to state that I think they do mark the graves in Azkaban, in case they ever need to exhume the body. But unmarked graves are just so much cooler.

She was fragile before her death, but it was not this fragility that killed her. It was her love, which was her sole weapon, and her faith, which was ill-placed.

~*~

It was her lover who allowed her to die, and it was the one act that he regretted beyond all others, that cold, powerful man.

~*~

She died wallowing in her pain, and she was buried in an unmarked grave, surrounded by the lost and the lonely.

~*~

It was a potion mixed with feelings and brewed in uncertainty. The guards were blind, but there was no guarantee of success.

~*~

She died unknown, but years later someone came to lay flowers and pay tribute to the love of a mother for her son.

Title: Word Association
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: October 17th-your hair in the moonlight
Character/Pairing: Ron/Hermione, dammit! Some other Gryffindor people, like Lavender Brown...
Genre/Warnings (as applicable): Um...fluff?
Rating: G
Note: I've been waiting for this challenge for ages, but I still don't think I managed to pin down what I was looking for. Oh well, this is the first bit of Ron/Hermione I've ever written, so be nice!


“Won-Won,” Lavendar said, sliding her arms over Ron’s shoulder’s, “I think you should write me a poem.”

Ron spat half his pumpkin juice across the table. “What?”

“A poem,” Lavendar repeated, sliding into the seat next to him. Harry raised an eyebrow, then got up from the table. Ron was on his own.

“What d’you need a poem for?” Ron asked suspiciously.

“To symbolize our undying love, of course,” Lavender said impatiently. “And I think you should go write one right now.”

Ron’s jaw dropped in astonishment. Then he noticed that amount of students in the Gryffindor common room watching this exchange. He blushed.

“Fine,” he mumbled, gathering up his books. “I’ll go write you a poem.”

Lavender grinned as Ron gathered his stuff, then rushed up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory. He dumped his books next to the bed before collapsing on it.

“Bloody poem,” he muttered, grabbing some parchment and a quill. He stared at the parchment for a few seconds, his mind completely blank. He started twirling the quill between his fingers nervously.

Just then Seamus walked in, whistling, his bag slung over his shoulders.

“Hey, Seamus,” Ron called desperately from his bed. “How’d you write a love poem?”

Seamus blinked, surprised, then he shrugged. “I dunno. Write about her hair in the moonlight, or how her eyes glow like jewels, or something like that.” Seamus dropped his bag by his bed, and started to head downt to the common room again.

Ron blinked. Hair in the moonlight? He could do that! “Thanks, Seamus!” he called, then got down to work.

“Your hair in the moonlight,” he wrote on the top of the page, then paused. What did Lavender’s hair look like in the moonlight? Had he ever seen her hair at night? What color was Lavender’s hair? Brown. It must be brown. What did brown hair look like in the moonlight? Ron frowned as he thought.

Hermione had brown hair. And when she stood in the moonlight, her hair had this silvery glow around it. In fact, Ron probably would have failed Astronomy entirely if Harry hadn’t kept poking him in the ribs. Hermione’s hair had this tendancy to glitter when she moved her telescope…

Ron shook his head. Ok, so he couldn’t write about Lavender’s hair. He scribbled out his first sentence. What about her eyes? Ron chewed his lip anxiously. What color were Lavender’s eyes?

Hermione’s eyes were brown, Ron was sure of it. A soft kind of brown, and they crinkled up when she laughed and they narrowed dangerously when she was angry. They also got really wide when she tried not to cry, and Ron remembered…

No, Lavender. He was supposed to be writing about Lavender. Ron looked down at his piece of parchment, and sighed. If he were on good terms with Hermione right now, he might have asked her to recommend a good love poem to copy. But maybe not. The thought of asking Hermione for a love poem for someone else seemed wrong.

Ron chewed on the end of his quill, then spat, trying to get the taste of feather out of his mouth. What was romantic? Nature, nature was romantic. So he should write something about nature.

“Morning dewdrops is the garden,” he wrote, trying to figure out how to connect that to love. But when he reread the line, all he could think about was one morning before fourth year, when Hermione was running barefoot in his garden, trying to catch Crookshanks.

Ron angrily scribbled out his last line. He decided to go for short and simple and obvious.

“I love you, Lavender Brown!” he scribbled, his handwriting sloppy and large, trying to compensate for the fact that he had no clue what to do. Then he stared at the sentence in horror.

No, there was no way he could give that to Lavender Brown. He didn’t love her, and he wasn’t going to lie outright just so she would keep snogging him, it wasn’t worth it.

“Incendio,” Ron whispered, and the parchment burst into flame. He stated at the empty space in his hand, imagining another name beside Lavender Brown next to the words, “I love you.”

Then he grabbed his bookbag and swung it onto his shoulders. He would go to the library, he decided, and find some stupid love poem there. Something boring, about snogging and food, if at all possible. And nothing to do with Hermione Granger!

Title: Judge Not a Book by it's Cover (Nor a Maiden by Her Giggle)
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: 27th – (Poor silly maiden) at his mercy was
Character/Pairing: Voldie, in all his splendor, and an original character, who irritates him a bit.
Genre/Warnings (as applicable): Um, spoilers for HBP? Do those even apply anymore? Anyway, here's why Voldemort really spent all those years perfecting his eeeevil look.
Rating: PG for murder attempts.

Lord Voldemort sat alone in the darkness, gathering his thoughts and plotting his future. He planned to rise as the most powerful wizard of his time. Muggles and Wizards alike would bow before his might, for he would be immortal and all-powerful! He would-

“Tom! Tom! Can you help Miss. Kernwenst for a moment? She specifically requested you!”

Voldemort ground his teeth in disgust, and came out from the storage room, where he had been plotting - or rather daydreaming - to pass the time. He did not enjoy working in Borgin & Burkes, but it did allow him access to many different magical items.

He forced a pleasant smile on his face as he emerged to see the back of a slim woman, a good foot shorter than him, who was leaning over a display of enchanted jewels.

“How may I help you, Miss…?” Voldemort realize he hadn’t caught her name and he cursed silently. It wasn’t good to be caught off guard.

“Sylvia Kernwenst,” the woman said, turning around. Voldemort blinked in surprise. She was much younger then he had thought, just a girl really, probably not even 17. Her voice was high, and sweet, and he wondered what exactly she was doing in Borgin & Burkes.

“Well, Miss Kernwenst,” Voldemort said smoothly, “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

She smiled innocently at him, and then blinked uncertainly. “Well, I’m not really sure,” she said, scanning the tapestry hanging on the wall. “I was looking for something of value, but…”she trailed off, drifting over to a glass display of false shadows.

“It would be easier for me to help you, if you had some idea of what you were looking for,” Voldemort said, trying not to let irritation creep into his voice. It wasn’t good to alienate customers, but he really couldn’t see what he could gain from her.

“Oh, no,” she said, waving a hand, “I’m sure if we look together, we’ll find something.” She poked a dead ferret lying on a table and spun around. “It’s Tom, right? Tom Riddle?”

Voldemort stiffened. No, his name was not Tom Riddle. He had abandoned that name months ago, though he bid his time before making that public. It wouldn’t do to have them know, not now. He ground his teeth. “Yes, Tom Riddle.”

“Well, you can call me Sylvia, then, Tom,” she said, and pulled an invisibility cloak off a hanger and wrapped it around herself, admiring the view of her floating head in the mirror.

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He had not given her permission to treat him as an equal! Here was this little slip of a thing, this girl who dared give him orders! His eyes glowed red as he glared at her slim little neck hovering before him. He could have her on the ground begging for mercy in moments! It was through his good graces she was still alive! His hands clenched into fists, and he could feel his magic spilling out in anger, the way he could still make it do, even without a wand.

BANG!

Sylvia jumped in surprise as a crystal ball hit the mirror inches away from her head. It had just rolled off the shelf and somehow flew two feet to nearly hit her. She started fanning herself and blinking rapidly, a little short of breath.

“Oh, Tom,” she gasped, putting away the cloak, still eyeing the ball on the ground. “Now that wasn’t very nice.”

Voldemort’s jaw dropped. Never had someone identified him doing magic without a wand before. Not since Dumbedore, and he doubted that Sylvia Kernwenst could hold a candle to Dumbledore.

“And here I was, all set to help you,” Sylvia said, shaking her head. “I’ll tell you this, at least. It’s still there, but you’re going to have dig a bit harder, that’s all. I think I’ll buy that.” And Sylvia picked up a brass padlock, lined with small amethysts. “Oh, and Tom, you mustn’t judge people by their looks. I must admit, even I did a double-take when I first saw the great Lord Voldemort.”

And then Sylvia giggled again, as she rushed to the front of the room, the padlock whistling softly.

Title: Student and Teacher
Author: eldarwannabe
House: Hufflepuff
Date/Challenge: August 20 – no sensible woman would ever refuse chocolate
Characters: Remus and Minerva
Rating: G
Word Count: 452
Genre/Warnings (if applicable): Completely Un-betaed. I thought of something about 20 minutes ago and typed as fast as I could. So, some mistakes in grammar.

“Really, Remus, I must ask what you’re doing with my star Seeker,” Professor McGonagall exclaimed, seating herself across from Remus in the teachers' room.

Remus looked up from grading a student essay to see his former Transfiguration teacher summon herself a cup of tea. “Well, he asked for help in fighting dementors,” Remus began carefully, putting down the essay, “and I thought as his Defense against the Dark Arts teacher I should-“

McGonagall looked up sharply from adding sugar to her tea. “You’re teaching him to summon a patronus? That’s hardly third-year material.”

“He’s hardly your average third-year,” Remus replied, leaning forward a little in his chair.

McGonagall hesitated, then nodded. “That’s true,” she replied softly.

There was silence in the room for a few moments, interrupted by the shuffling of papers and the tink of a spoon against a tea cup.

“He looks so much like James,” McGonagall said suddenly.

Remus froze, then smiled. “He does.”

“Have…have you said anything to him yet?”

“No. And I’m not sure I plan to.”

There was silence for another few moments, once again interrupted by McGonagall.

“How are you getting a dementor for him to practice on?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

Remus laughed. “His boggart is a dementor,” he explained.

She widened her eyes. “That’s astonishing,” she murmered.

Remus leaned back in his chair, still smiling. “I would never disobey Professor Dumbledore’s orders,” he said in a slightly mocking tone.

McGonagall laughed. “Albus," she said. "Really Remus, you can call us by our first names now, no one will object.”

He laughed again. “No fears on that, Professor. We always did call you “Menacing Minerva” after third year.”

They laughed together for a few moments, then a slight chime rang, a reminder for any teachers in the room that afternoon classes were about to begin. Remus began gathering up his papers.

“Do you have a class now?” he asked Minerva, betting on her casual pose that he already knew the answer.

“No,” she said, and leaned back stretching out a bit, basking in the warmth from the firelight. “My third years are having a longer herbology class today, because it’s dangerous to leave the greenhouse while in the middle of working on Exploding Walnuts, or something of that sort.”

Remus headed for the door, then hesitated and turned back. “Chocolate?” he offered, holding out a bar of Honeyduke’s best to Minerva. “I had some left over from my last session with Harry, and most experts agree that it works best when fresh.”

Minerva blinked for a moment, then accepted it with thanks. Remus left the room and she leaned back again, savoring the taste. After all, no sensible woman would ever refuse chocolate.


I wrote this fic based off a 30_hath challenge, but too late to post it on the community.

Title: Anger of the Betrayed
Author:eldarwannabe
Date/Challenge: October 16 - talk the language of the visionary and the idealist
Characters: Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, and some Rowena and Godric
Rating: PG

It was Rowena’s idea at the beginning, but nothing would have come of it had Helga not gathered them together again, giving Rowena’s idle suggestion a new sense of purpose.

Godric found them an ideal location in the Scottish highlands, far from prying Muggle eyes. And it was Salazar who suggested sperating the students into Houses, to better nurture and train each student's individual talents.

It wasn’t until later, as Salazar stormed from the castle, that Helga finally asked, chasing after him with tears in her eyes. “Was that always your intent, Salazar? To splinter and shatter the unity of this school? Our school, Salazar!”

Salazar had turned, a hint of malice in his cold green eyes, and then he spat at Helga’s feet. “Stop talking as a visionary and idealist, Helga. This school will never be unified.”

And in the end it was Helga Hufflepuff, tears still glittering in her eyes, who drew her wand and said in a voice harsh and certain. “Go now, Salazar Slytherin, go and never come back. We don’t need you anymore.”