"In a few hours, try again." said the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, his frame resting upon the stone wall of the Chamber of Secrets.
"That'll be the third time today!" complained Harry.
"Well, unless the magical beast selected for you gives you a break because you're tired, do it again!"
Harry moaned in agony, before pulling himself off the floor.
A week and a half had passed since the Selection of Champions ceremony, and what a horrible ten days it had been.
Nearly everybody staying within the confines of Hogwarts believed Harry to be a liar and a cheat. Not one of his fellow Gryffindors defended him, as they too were rather upset (and the few who were not either didn't know him well enough to care, or did not wish to become subject to the wrath of their peers). As a means to avoid the ire of his fellow students, Harry had stopped showing up to the majority of his classes. Not that it mattered - he had Salazar, as well as a number of ancient tomes and texts stored away within the Chamber of Secrets.
Professor McGonagall had informed him the morning after the selection that Triwizard Champions were exempt from all their classes for the year, which Harry immediately took advantage of. He had finished the practical portion of the fourth year course work by now, thanks to the help of Salazar; he would not be missing anything.
Besides, it was not too difficult of a decision; there was not a single Professor that did not look upon him with some sort of negative emotion, not even his own Head of House (who had quite clearly expressed her disappointment).
The same could be said for most of the students. Harry could count the number of students who had treated him just as they had before on a single hand. Neville, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot had all treated him kindly (although Harry could tell the latter most likely did so because her friend did).
In other words, it was only Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones who treated him well. Not even the three Gryffindor chasers had treated him the same, instead taking what appeared to be a relatively neutral stance (although thankfully they appeared to be leaning more in his favour than against).
As if to scorn Harry further, the Auror Guards had been changed as well. It had turned out that Tonks and Hestia, as well as most of the other Aurors in their batch, had all been relatively new. After Harry's name had come out of the goblet, the ministry had instantly switched them out for the more experienced Aurors. It was at least somewhat comforting to know that the Ministry of Magic was at least taking it seriously (or more seriously than usual). Not that it was of much comfort to Harry.
Harry had not had a particularly good time saying his farewells to Tonks and Hestia, though he was relieved to find that they believed him when he said he hadn't entered his name. The two of them had assured him that they would meet again, before departing with the rest of the Aurors. Harry had spent the remainder of that day in the chamber, unleashing curse after curse until he could cast no more. He had forgotten what it was like to be alone - the last time he felt such a thing was the summer before his second year. Now, however, the feeling of being unloved and uncared for returned in full force.
Harry had forgotten ho much he hated it.
But there was nothing he could do about it. He could tell that Dumbledore at least suspected that he used his cloak to pass through the age line. Harry couldn't blame him - it was the only solution he himself could think of (although he conceded that he was nowhere near as knowledgable about magic as Dumbledore). He suspected that Snape and McGonagall at least had some sort of suspicion as well. They both knew about the existence of his cloak, although Harry was not sure how much more they knew.
With nothing better to do, Harry had spent almost all of his time since the selection in the Chamber of Secrets, training. Salazar had told him where the kitchens were located, meaning that Harry no longer needed to show up at the Great Hall for meals. Harry had been rather surprised to find Dobby working in the Hogwarts kitchen, though it was certainly nice to see the eccentric house elf again.
Harry had also been sleeping in the chamber as well, having transfigured a few stones into a bed. He had been fairly tired after that, but it had certainly been worth it.
The moment Harry had told Salazar about being entered into the Triwizard Tournament, the portrait had become incredibly dedicated in assuring that Harry would not only survive, but take first place. It would be a testament to his power, as well as his progress as a wizard, or at least that was what Salazar had claimed. Harry liked the sentiment, although he knew that surviving would certainly be a priority of his - Harry couldn't help but feel the portrait had a harder time understanding how dearly Harry wished to avoid being pummeled by some magical creature; he was a painting, after all.
"Can't I use a spell that's less power draining?" asked Harry.
"This is a perfect spell for your situation, even if it is far too Gryffindor for my liking." declared Salazar, "And you only have to hold the chains for a minute at most. The outcome of the first task will not be nearly as favourable towards you if you were to use any other spell."
"How is creating giant chains going to create a favourable outcome for me?" asked Harry sarcastically, "I've passed out more times than I can count!"
"Because these chains are created by a spell based upon wandless magic" Salazar informed him, "Although it is not actually wandless magic, but rather a replication of its theory. Regardless, the chains will be as strong as you intend for them to be, as it is based on your intent. As you are capable of wandless magic, producing such chains will be much, much easier for you."
"But I thought you said it wasn't wandless magic?"
"It isn't, but the principles are the same. That, along with several other reasons make the spell is perfect for your situation. The spell was obscure when I lived, nobody in your time will have heard of it. It is incredibly impressive, yet incredibly simple. People will think that you have simply discovered a rare spell, rather than you being particularly powerful. It will make people feel less threatened, as it could simply be that you know one random yet powerful spell. It is similar to Fiendfyre: easy to use, but hard to control, or in this case, hard to maintain. Besides, it will only last for a short period of time; just long enough for you to do whatever it is you will be asked to do."
"Why does it matter if people feel threatened?" ask Harry casually.
"Use your brains, Potter. How would you feel if you saw a teenage wizard far powerful than yourself?"
"Not very good about myself, I suppose." Harry supplied.
"Exactly, which will not lead to anything good for you." said Salazar, "But by using a single spell, the entire wizarding world will be able to observe your skill, but will think you just happened to stumble across it in the restricted section or something similar."
"People would really think that?" asked Harry skeptically.
"Of course they would, most witches and wizards are fools." said Salazar, dismissively waving his hand, "Either way, they will not feel particularly threatened, as all they will see is a boy that is fairly powerful, and knows a single powerful spell. That is much less threatening than a boy who is much more powerful than he should be for his age."
"That still sounds pretty threatening to me."
"Would Riddle seem particularly threatening to you if he was average in terms of power, but knew one very powerful spell?"
"Very much so, actually." replied Harry, "That sounds like teaching Malfoy the Killing Curse - we'd all be dead by nightfall, probably Malfoy as well; he's stupid like that, it's not hard to imagine."
"You understood the point." said Salazar.
"Right, but I have a few questions." said Harry, "Won't people be curious as to how I'm slightly more powerful than I should be? Because even if they think it's some random, powerful spell, they'll at least realize I have to be somewhat powerful to use it."
Salazar shrugged.
.....
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