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"They continue their lives," Dumbledore said sadly. "Wondering why they're different in ways they do not know themselves. But unfortunately, in my experience, it's often been for the best. Those children grew up to be people that I'm glad do not know how to control their magic. If they're lucky, it fizzles out over time if left unnurtured."
"But them coming to Hogwarts could've changed them!" Blake countered. "Just because they might've had negative influences at home, doesn't mean they - especially children - can't change! Look at Harry - he lives with pigs, but he's one of the bravest people I know!"
Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Perhaps you are right, Blake. But I think we can both agree that Harry is quite an exception."
As Blake opened his mouth to say that he agreed, but Dumbledore was still wrong, the latter continued.
"But to answer your second question, I'm afraid the answer is quite complicated."
The boy faltered now, as the words he had prepared to say died in his mouth. Dumbledore smiled slightly, and continued.
"Firstly, from observing you, I had a sneaking suspicion that you would be sorted into Slytherin. The unspoken protocol is that if a muggleborn is suspected to be sorted into Slytherin, they will not be invited into Hogwarts, for obvious reasons."
Stupid logic. But wait a second - why was he -
"I know what you are thinking - why was I observing you in the first place? The short answer, Blake, is because I recognised your name."
Dumbledore's smile disappeared off his face.
"Not much is known to the public about the early life of Salazar Slytherin - but there is some knowledge in the early records left behind by the Founders - including him. Do you know what gave Salazar Slytherin such a distrust - a hatred - of muggleborns, Blake?"
Blake shook his head again.
"Sytherin had a younger brother. The boy had been cursed at a young age, however. Slytherin says that a vengeful wizard cursed him - a powerful, ancient curse that rendered his brother into a Squib - but, shockingly, Slytherin didn't care. He cherished the boy as any older brother would cherish their younger siblings - just as you cherish Connor, Blake, despite his lack of magic - something that the purebloods of today would be left agape at, no doubt," Dumbledore said, chuckling slightly.
"However, as you can probably guess, tragedy struck. Those times were times where witch-hunts were a regular occurrence. Someone must have heard that the Slytherin family were magical, while Slytherin himself was away at Hogwarts. Slytherin's parents had passed on by now too - magic was unrefined back then. But do you know who was at home?"
"The younger brother," Blake said solemnly.
Dumbledore nodded.
"The boy was dragged away, humiliated, stripped of his clothes, spat on, beaten, imprisoned for days and tortured until he 'confessed', and finally burned at the stake. Slytherin heard the news and rushed back, but he was too late - he arrived just as the townspeople began their celebrations. The younger brother had started screaming, and they - and Slytherin - believed him to be a dead man. I'm sure you can imagine what happened next."
"He killed them all?"
"Every single one of them," Dumbledore confirmed. "Of course, no wizard or witch dared to stop him, or even confront him after the fact. In fact, it's likely that no one knew - there are no other accounts, magical or Muggle, of Slytherin's revenge - and even if they had known, wizards and witches probably didn't mind. Those townspeople had tortured and killed his younger brother for the simple crime of being born with magic - and, worst of all, the poor young man wasn't even magical! They celebrated his death - anyone that knew must've silently thought it was justified, and no one spoke of it ever again."
"You said that Slytherin and the townspeople believed the younger brother to be dead?" Blake noted. "Does that mean…"
Dumbledore finally smiled for the first time since he began the story.
"Yes. The younger brother, somehow, someway, survived the whole ordeal. Luckily, Slytherin's first spell of choice had been 'Aguamenti', or that era's version of it, and the fire had been put out. Although the brother, by that point, had likely gone into a coma or at the very least comatose, with the help of the other Founders, he was able to revive the younger brother, and restore him back to full health, mostly. But Slytherin had taken enough chances - he blamed himself for the pain his younger brother had gone through, and vowed to never trust a Muggle again. But at the same time, he knew his brother couldn't live in a magical society either. In fact, the entire reason the younger brother had been living amongst Muggles was because of the discrimination he had faced from wizards for being a Squib. So Slytherin told his brother to leave. The brothers had no choice but to separate, and never see each other again, for each other's sake. Slytherin would be politically free from any judgement from those that would question his relationship to Squibs, and the younger brother would be safe and away from Muggles and wizards alike. But Slytherin had one last gift and instruction for his younger brother. He healed his scars, and cast a permanent appearance modifying spell, and told him to leave behind his last name, freeing him from any ties that binded him to the wizarding world. Do you know what Salazar Slytherin's brother's first name was?"
Blake's mouth went dry.
"Surely it's a coincidence," he said.
"That's what I believed too," Dumbledore responded. "But I did some digging - it was impossible, after all. But I managed to trace your entire paternal bloodline, Blake. Blake Renshaw, your father, James Renshaw, your paternal grandfather, Averus, Josh, Dean, George, Harrison, Phineas, Nigel… the list went on and on, but I traced it, and it runs true. Salazar Slytherin's younger brother - Renshaw Slytherin is - your ancestor…"
Blake swallowed.
"I also found that I could not enter your home," Dumbledore said with a wry smile.
"I tried in all sorts of ways, but I simply couldn't - Salazar Slytherin must've placed protection on your bloodline - wizards could not come near you. That was, until you let Hagrid in. I'm not sure what conditions were satisfied so that Hagrid could enter - actually, once, while you and your brother were at school, I attempted to come in to speak to your mother, several times, actually. She probably doesn't know, but I was unable to even step into your porch, no matter what I tried. Undoubtedly very strong blood magic - but it's been broken now. Indeed, now I am able to enter your home."
"You entered my home?" Blake asked, slightly creeped out.
"Ah," Dumbledore said hastily, a light blush on his cheeks (which was an odd sight to see)>
"Not to worry, dear boy, I didn't actually do anything - just, while your mother was at work last year, I simply used the Unlocking Charm to enter, just to see if I could. I left immediately after that, I can assure you."
Weirdo.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Regardless, I'm sure you understand the significance of what I'm telling you, Blake."
"I'm a descendant of Salazar Slytherin," the boy said dryly. "How poetic."
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