He came like an oncoming storm (Book 1 of the Stigma of the Wind series)

Chapter 7: "Special Delivery for the King"

Harry woke up in his new dorm room. A smile formed on his face. The room was circular, had a high ceiling (as in cathedral-high ceiling) and the walls were completely covered in bookshelves. It seemed that the house elves had been so kind as to unload Harry's library from his trunk.

The ceiling was a victorian window that gave a great view of the lake. Looking closely he could even see an entry to the lake, which of course was secured with anti-water and warming charms so that he could enter the lake but the water and the inhabitants of the lake could not enter his room. In the middle of the room was of course the bed he was laying on right now. It wasn't one of the typical canopy beds of Hogwarts but a more modern king sized bed that did not even had a head board. So more like a very soft, very comfortable, big cuboid.

Looking around, Harry could see that the bookshelves actually started three metres above the ground, where a narrow wooden gallery ran around the walls, allowing access to the books. On the walls below the gallery was a mirror, a wardrobe, an empty portrait frame and a small separate room that Harry guessed was the bath room.

He let himself fall back into the comfortable mattress. The room was perfect. And it was his alone. Ah, the perks of being sorted into Slytherin House...Not that he did not have his own space before, but it still had been connected to the rest of the cathedral, compromising his privacy.

A cough from the wall made him jump. Salazar had entered his portrait and was now looking at him disapprovingly.

"What?" asked Harry "It's only six am. Classes won't start until 9 and Professor Snape's speech will be at 7:30, probably even later than that."

"That is by no means an excuse to lay around in bed. Get dressed, go through you daily exercises and wake up Blaise. I want you to be more than on time, I want you to be early!"

Harry groaned.

Salazar raised an unbelieving eyebrow. "Did you honestly expect me to stop your training just because you are not in my direct vicinity anymore?"

"How are you even awake? You normally hex anyone daring to go near you before 10 am."

"Godric dragged me into training since you aren't here anymore."

"And how is this my fault? Why don't you use the situation to your own advantage? Like I don't know, waiting until he is sweaty enough to shed certain pieces of clothing, i.e. his shirt, like he is prone to do?"

"Is that what you would do?" asked Salazar in a suddenly suspicious voice.

"No, this is my advice to you. Because I have spent enough time with Dad to know his morning routine and habits, father. If I however, come into the delight of finding my other half as well, I would probably try to get them to shed their clothes. Which is why I provided you with simple advice on how to get to your goal."

Salazar looked stumped. Then groaned. "Sorry. I am still kind of tired, so my brain is not exactly working right now."

"Trust me, I know. I have seen you getting jealous of your own reflection when you saw it cheching out Dad's backside."

Salazar groaned again. With a last reminder for Harry to get dressed, he vanished from the portrait.

Humming Harry continued his morning ritual. He did his morning exercises – both physical and magical – showered, brushed his teeth, fixed his robes and lastly packed his school books into his bag. Then he settled in the common room, on the couch before the fire place, right beneath Salazar's empty portrait.

Opening a book about the basics of Dark Runes – Salazar had forbidden him to start learning Runes before Hogwarts – Harry began to read, letting his quill take notes he dictated mentally.