Summary: Slytherin speaks of his life after Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: JK Rowlings creation is her own, the only profit I am making is the enjoyment of creating a story based on her works.

Dreams

The years steadily pass me by. I never did return to Hogwarts to teach. I think apart of Godric expected me to return after the threat of the Half-bloods had been destroyed. But he understood my need to continue on with my own life.

I left for France a week after my apprentice disappear amid all the rumours that I had murdered him. I was restless but I could not return to the castle. Not after all that had befallen me inside her walls. It was time to move on. Time to find a new dream.

I never found that dream in France. It was my fate to return to Wales and teach the unteachable witches and wizards. Unlike the other three, I only taught one at a time and only when I had finished their education and I could teach them no more I found another apprentice no one would teach. The first of which I remember clearly… Helena, the bastard daughter of my good friend Helga; the child I had convinced her to keep.

I have lead a full life. Full of ups and downs. Tragedies and great joy. I have accomplished much for a little insufficient fen rat. I have changed the world in my own way. Where there was darkness I brought light. I hope this is how I shall be remembered but the likelihood of that is uncertain.

My time to leave behind my mortal body approaches. I am old. Nay, my friends, I am ancient. I feel every single day of my one hundred and ninety years. Soon I will be following Godric into the adventure after death.

My story, who I was and what I stand for will be lost in the dregs of history. Of who I truly am will be discounted and my name will be used loftily. But in this I take my comfort: I have helped build a world that will forever offer hope and dignity to magical kind. This is my accomplishment. I can think of no better.

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I dip my quill back into the well of ink on my oak desk and sigh contently. My weary eyes study the pages of parchment that litter the floor. It is finished. My story is over. I glance back to my decrepit little owl and smile despite the great pain in my joints.

With slow deliberate movements of an old man whose body is falling apart I move to my low lying bed. I rolled onto my back and run my hands down my emerald and silver robes wistfully.

The sun filters through the windows which need cleaning, indicating that I had been up most of the night writing my story. Again.

"Magister." The red head apprentice called. I try to wave him away but a part of my mind is wandering and so I didn't hear him. "Magister are you alright?"

I don't answer. I don't have the strength anymore. I realise I am dying. But I'm not afraid.

Hearing the soft shuffling of feet as my apprentice leaves my chamber I find that I am smiling, my eyes moist with unshed tears. Raising my hand I wipe them away and find that I am chuckling. The chuckling turns into a deep cough…

Never in my life have I ever felt so weak… never so joyful to know that the end for me is nigh and I can lay down my head for all eternity and rest.

Footsteps return. "Father?"

Earven is at my door. But I can't acknowledge him. His footsteps quicken to my side and finally I turn my head to regard him. I smile and take his hand in mine even though it takes almost all my strength to do so.

"Look after your boys," I croak.

Earven looks sad and he nods. Knowing that I was asking him to look after the

Slytherin apprentices at Hogwarts as well as his own children.

"Father. Don't go."

I'm smiling again. I feel myself slipping away…

"Don't go…"

From the corner of the room I see an apparition. Joyful emerald eyes sparkle at me from under a mass of black untidy hair. "Harry…" The spirit smiles at me and reaches out to take my hand. His touch was full of warmth. "Harry you came back."

I know Earven is worried but I can't stop the words from spilling from my mouth.

A thought leaps into my mind. "The basilisk." I turn panic stricken to Earven. "I left the basilisk… I never killed it… Chamber of Secrets…" Earven takes my hand and squeezes, his expression tells me he thinks I have lost his mind. I never did tell him the story of his mother and the basilisk. "I left the bas…"

I loose my breath. My heart falters bravely trying to keep beating and it stops. My eyes flutter and close and my chest rises and falls with my last breath.

"I know," the spirit says to me as I fall into darkness and blinding light at the same time. "I know."