Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1623: The Aura of Slytherin

The magma churned and rolled, and waves of scorching heat surged toward them. Controlling the dragon, Evan continued to descend, steering it as close as possible to the island where Vault One was located.

The massive Slytherin crest atop the vault grew increasingly distinct. A capital S, made entirely of countless emeralds, emanated a hazy green light. It seemed almost alive, coiled there like a real serpent, exuding a unique, commanding presence that watched the intruders as if it could spring to life at any moment.

It was the tallest of all the vaults surrounded by molten rock. The serpent occupied the central position, overlooking its domain from on high.

Everywhere it gazed was its domain.

This was a world of fire, and it also belonged to the House of Slytherin.

Staring at the two largest emeralds atop the vault evoked a sensation, like staring into the eyes of a king cobra. A chilling sense of danger rose from the depths of one’s heart, as if a powerful wizard were watching one’s every move. It instilled an urge to submit, to stand perfectly still.

For at the slightest sign of disrespect or reckless movement, that “serpent” would surely spring forward without hesitation to deliver a fatal strike.

Everyone who came before the crest would instinctively hold their breath and tread carefully, afraid to awaken the slumbering beast.

As they drew closer, Evan keenly sensed that the oppressive danger came not from any enchantment but from the aura of the place itself — a faint trace of magic, not strong enough to form a spell, but unmistakably the lingering imprint of a single wizard’s power.

Evan knew that aura well. He had encountered it within other powerful spells before, and it was something he would never forget for as long as he lived.

It was the aura of Salazar Slytherin himself.

As one of the oldest Wizarding families, the Slytherins’ prestige had truly reached its peak during Salazar’s lifetime.

Salazar Slytherin had been the most powerful wizard of his time, and his legends were still told around the world today.

He possessed both strength and credentials to command the submission of all wizards.

Even the faintest trace of his magic was enough to command submission.

It was much like how wizards felt standing before the temples and pyramids of Egypt — an instinctive awe, even knowing that the mighty pharaohs and their dynasties had long turned to dust. The lingering aura of those who once stood nearest to divine power — the gods, the pharaohs, the high priests — was enough to make later generations tread softly.

“Salazar Slytherin!” Evan muttered.

Though he did not share Slytherin’s ideals, he could not help feeling profound respect and awe for such a powerful wizard.

In fact, powerful magical creatures like dragons were far more sensitive to such kind of aura than humans.

When they drew close enough, the dragon refused to descend any farther, no matter how much Evan urged it on.

He could sense the dragon’s spirit trembling violently.

Its very soul was shuddering; it was afraid, succumbing to Salazar Slytherin’s magical aura.

“That Slytherin crest makes me uncomfortable,” said Harry suddenly, feeling the sting of his scar.

“That’s the magical aura left by Salazar Slytherin. It’s meant to scare intruders. Don’t stare at it,” Evan explained, turning his head to look at Harry’s pained expression. “Wait, your scar hurts again, Harry? If you’re not feeling well, we don’t have to go any farther.”

“It hurts, but it’s not because of him. I can’t describe what this feeling is. It’s like something inside is calling me,” said Harry, covering his scar tightly, and then, as if sensing something, pointed to Vault One below.

“What?”   

“Inside that vault, I can feel a voice speaking to me. I need to go down!” Harry repeated. “I need to go down!”

Evan and Hermione exchanged glances, unsure if this was a good omen.

They themselves hadn’t heard anything, but Harry wasn’t the type to hallucinate.

Hearing someone speaking to him … it sounded disturbingly similar to the influence of the evil god.

Harry’s scar, after all, was actually Voldemort’s Horcrux, containing a fragment of Voldemort’s soul.

Could it be that Salazar Slytherin had left something within the vault that would exert a powerful pull on the souls of his descendants? Such a phenomenon had never happened before, and it wasn’t their first time exploring Salazar Slytherin’s relic sites, and nothing like this had ever occurred.

It seemed the vault contained something truly remarkable.

It might not be the key to the secret treasure, because Dumbledore had said before his departure that the key to Salazar Slytherin’s treasure and clues to the evil god were all located where Herpo the Foul’s soul resided, his lair, which had become another dimension after his ascension into a godlike being.

Slytherin’s vault couldn’t possibly be connected to that otherworldly space, nor could it be Herpo’s lair.

In fact, Evan didn’t sense even the faintest trace of the evil god’s aura here.

“Harry, the last time we were here, when we went to the Black family vault to find the title deed, you didn’t feel anything strange then, did you?” Hermione asked.

“No,” said Harry after a moment’s thought. “It felt a little uncomfortable, but nobody would feel comfortable here, right? We were far away last time, and I didn’t look at the Slytherin family crest, so that doesn’t prove anything.”

Indeed, the Black family vault was deep in the lava, far from Vault One.

“Elaine, how are you feeling?” Evan asked, turning to Elaine, who was also pale.

“It’s so hot… I feel awful,” said Elaine. “Vampires hate the heat, but Elaine’s fine!”

That seemed like a normal reaction. After all, Elaine wasn’t a true descendant of Salazar Slytherin, so it made sense she wasn’t affected the same way Harry was.

In fact, Voldemort was the only person alive with a blood relationship to Slytherin to date.

If Gaunt’s ring was still there, they could have asked the Riddle within it to confirm, but the ring had vanished along with Dumbledore.

Harry repeated, “I’m going down there!”

“Okay, let’s go, but be careful. If anything happens, we leave immediately,” Evan said.

He waved his wand and cast a Levitation Charm, then jumped off the dragon’s back, slowly descending onto the small island below.

Harry, Hermione, Elaine, and the old goblin followed suit, landing beside Evan.

In front of them, beneath the Slytherin family crest, stood an inky gate with intricate patterns.

Made of an unknown metal, it bore a striking resemblance to the gates of Hogwarts Castle.

The overall outline was similar, sharing the same architectural style.

What caught the eye most were the elaborate carvings that decorated the vault door. When Evan had come here before, he had been too far away to see clearly, but now, up close, he could tell with certainty that these designs were identical to the strange markings engraved on Slytherin’s locket: they were written in Parseltongue.

As they approached the vault door, they could see two grooves in its center.

The upper one was a polygon, and the lower one was a long, narrow groove.

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