"Do This for Me" for vegetasbubble
Title: Do This for Me
Gift for: vegetasbubble
Author: midnight_birth
Pairing: Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin (pre-slash/friendship).
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: None really.
Genres: Slashy gen.
Summary: Out of differing opinions and polar opposite personalities, an unlikely friendship develops. But when dreams are put on the line and a compromise cannot be reached, how much can either one sacrifice for someone they love?
Author's Notes: I really hope I hit at least close to what you were thinking, dear reader, and that you like it! I loved writing it. Thank you so much to the mods for their patience and understanding. Enjoy! ♥
~*~
Salazar Slytherin spent a lot of time staring at the river. He found it calming, somehow, to follow the current, listen to the water and let the monotonous sound and sight carry him off into a deep reverie. The truth was, the sound of the river reminded him of slithering and hissing of snakes - a sound that had become intimate to his ear quite recently, and that he enjoyed and loathed at the same time.
He had left his family and friends, his home, everything behind to come a long way looking for something. He didn't know what it was, but getting away from marshlands where snakes were a dozen every foot seemed the number one goal. Sitting by the river every day, he began to realize that he hadn't really thought it through. He wasn't yet twenty, he wasn't good with people, and he was alone in a foreign region with no one to turn to and nowhere to go. And even there, the snakes found him. He found himself talking to them for lengthy periods of time just to have someone to talk to, but they didn't prove the best companions.
He quickly figured out that his main ability wasn't merely being able to talk to snakes, it was being able to control them. Whatever he said, they obeyed, and that bored him.
It was by the river, while deep in conversation with a large green snake, that he had met Godric for the first time. The snake had heard him first. She startled and turned, hissing, Sssstranger, to Salazar warningly as she slithered away soundlessly into the grass. Salazar could hear - sense - that she didn't go very far. She would pounce if he only said the word.
Salazar was staring at the stranger wearily. The man was young and handsome, with a stocky build and brown shoulder-length hair, and was approaching slowly, his mouth set in a tight line and his hands raised where Salazar could see them, as if he was approaching a lunatic or a rabid animal. The place that Salazar had made his temporary home by the river was out of most people's way, but Salazar had seen a couple of travelers and merchants pass by, and couldn't be sure how much they had seen or heard. The only thing he did know was that anyone who saw him backed away and ran, obviously thinking him a leper or insane. Salazar's sunken cheeks, thin body and torn, dirty clothing justified those kinds of thoughts, and the fact that he either appeared to be talking to himself of to a snake didn't help the impression people had of him if they ran across him. He laughed to himself dryly when he imagined what his mother would think of his son - the Pureblood son of aristocracy brought up by the highest standards of etiquette and education looking like a wild child and a simple vagabond.
"Do you speak?" The stranger's voice was clear, loud and friendly.
"If you are asking whether I can speak, I can," Salazar answered calmly, reaching into his robes and grasping his wand tightly. "If you are asking whether I wish to speak, you are asking a different question that has a different answer."
The young man looked surprised, it seemed, both at Salazar's civilized and perfect speech, and his calm and sane demeanour, which surely did not match the way he looked. "I mean you no harm."
"If you did, you wouldn't tell me, but if you do, I would turn away and not look back."
The stranger frowned. "Or what? You will set that snake on me? The one that's hiding in the bushes?"
The two men stared at each other pointedly for a few moments and then, to Salazar's surprise, the young man started laughing, his body relaxing completely. He put down his arms and walked towards Salazar purposefully, stopping beside him and sinking onto the grass, all fear and hesitation gone. Salazar couldn't help but loosen his grip on his wand and study the other man curiously. He couldn't deny his surprise at the other man's nonchalance when it came to him being able to talk to snakes and, just to check, he turned towards where the snake was waiting, and hissed, "Hhherress."
He watched the stranger’s face closely as the snake came back out and froze in place, staring at Salazar expectantly. The stranger's eyes lit up in obvious admiration and wonder, something Salazar immediately found he rather enjoyed.
"My name is Godric Gryffindor," the young man said and outstretched his arm. Salazar had to wonder at Godric's bravery; Godric's hand was inches away from the snake, and were it to turn its head just a little to the right it could bite him in a second. The venom would kill him in under two minutes.
"Salazar Slytherin." Salazar shook Godric's hand and then hissed at the snake, which immediately shrunk down to the ground and disappeared.
"You have magic in you, Salazar," Godric said matter-of-factly, not asking but stating. Salazar nodded. "Do you come from a family of wizards and witches?"
Salazar nodded even as his lip curled in consternation. Where else could he have come from?
"And your family knows how to harvest the magic?" Godric asked to another nod as Salazar produced a wand and waved it in the air, producing a few sparks. "And have you been always able to speak with snakes? It is a rare gift, I hear."
Salazar shook his head thoughtfully. He was told by his father that it was uncommon, but he had never before encountered another wizarding family. He considered that it couldn't be that rare, really, and the only reason his parents thought it was was because there wasn't anyone in their family with the same capabilities. Hearing it from Godric, who, from what Salazar could safely deduce, was a wizard himself, he suddenly wondered exactly how rare Parseltongue was, and why he was the only one with that particular ability.
"I've heard about you in town," Godric said, smiling a little and throwing Salazar an intent look. "At first I didn't pay any mind, but when I started to hear words like "strange" and what some of the people claimed they saw you do, I started to wonder if you were... you know. And I had to come and see whether you were one of those who didn't know."
"Didn't know?" Salazar frowned. "How can one not know when you are taught this from an early age. Of course, if you're an orphan, I suppose-"
"The Muggles," Godric said. "You know, people - the rest of them. That's what my family calls them jokingly, you know, after mugs." Godric chuckled. "And I suppose they are easily fooled, nothing insulting about that. We do have advantages." He shrugged almost apologetically. "So imagine one of them is born like us. They wouldn't know how to do anything with it, but it's there anyway, which can potentially turn dangerous. We've encountered a few people like that all over the place - we used to move a lot - and my family had to take them away from the Muggles and educate them at least in basic magic so they wouldn't be hunted down for being... different."
Salazar was shaking his head slowly, trying to wrap his mind around what Godric was saying. Obviously, Godric was much less isolated from the world than him, particularly from the world of people like them, so he seemed to know more than anyone had ever told Salazar.
"I don't understand," he finally said, frowning. "How is that possible? People - the weaker, the stupider, the powerless - could have a child who would have magic in them? Magic is ancestral. It is something pure, not accidental."
Godric was staring at Salazar in wonderment again. "Afraid not. I suppose it would be easier if it was like that. But I suppose if a wizard and a witch can have a baby with no magic in them, it would only make sense if the opposite was true as well."
Salazar felt overwhelmed and suddenly very angry. How much did he not know? His family could be traced many generations back, and they were all magical. His, from what he was told, was one of the oldest wizarding families. Yet nobody had ever told him anything. What Godric was saying Salazar was hearing for the first time, and he was reluctant to accept it as truth. He had been brought up to believe that regular people were so much lower than wizarding folk he never even spoke to them unless strictly necessary. They were weak and useless and his father always said they were to people with power like dogs were to men. And now this stranger who didn't blink an eyes at Salazar speaking to a snake in front of him was telling him that one of the dogs could birth a human, that non-magical people could birth a wizard of a witch. There were so many wrong and unnatural things with that Salazar couldn't even begin to imagine where to start with all the questions he had.
Godric was observing Salazar's expression very closely, and it seemed something in it bothered him. He was frowning and shaking his head. "Listen," he said finally, before Salazar could collect his thoughts enough to speak, "you seem like you've travelled a long way. It's not safe for you here. Why don't you come back with me and I'll give you something to eat and something clean to wear and then we can talk about it, ok?"
Salazar considered. He didn't want charity or help, but he didn't want to stay living outside forever, especially with the nights getting colder. And if he didn't go with Godric he would have to go home before winter's start. Even with his wand he knew he wouldn't survive without a shelter. Without a word he got up and followed Godric. Perhaps it would benefit him to meet another wizarding family, too, and ask all the questions he was dying to know the answers to. He wanted to confirm the abnormalities Godric had told about him were true before he could decide what he wanted to do about them. Then time would tell.
~*~
Godric knew Salazar too well to think he was silent for any other reason than discontent. The more Rowena talked, scribbling maps in the sand with one long, delicate nail, the stormier Salazar's face became. It seemed to Godric his friend was going to blow up any minute, and he didn't want Ravena and Helga to be there when he did, especially because he was almost certain why Salazar was so out of sorts.
"It is brilliant, Rowena, as always," he said, giving the witch a warm smile. "There is nothing you can't figure out, is there?"
Rowena gave him a proud, slightly haughty smile and shrugged her shoulders gracefully. Helga, meanwhile, was looking from Godric to Salazar and frowning. She could feel, Godric knew, everything that wasn't being said, everything that Salazar was bursting to say, how much both of them wanted to be left alone. She gave Godric a long, intent look that gave him an eerie feeling that she knew more than she ever let on about what was going on and things to come and then stood up.
"Rowena, the sunset, it is nearing, I would like to show you something."
Godric and Salazar both seemed to be listening to the witches' dying footsteps and then what seemed to Godric like the world's longest and most loaded silence descended.
"I hate silence," Godric said finally, walking over to where Salazar was sitting in the grass, and sinking down next to him.
"Then why all the silence?" Salazar snapped. He then shook his head and glanced at the indents in the sand that were already being filled in by the wind. "There are things you know need to be said, and yet you pretend like everything's great and continue with all the planning as if you believe it can be avoided forever."
Godric sighed. "Salazar, I know this is not what you want or the way we planned it, even," he said slowly, not looking up to meet his friend's eyes, "but... They're brilliant. We need Helga and Rowena, we do. We can't do this alone." He edged closer to Salazar to make sure he was half-leaning against his leg. He always found his friend easier to reach if he established some kind of physical contact.
"We've been planning this for years," Salazar said, his voice harsh. "We haven't stopped talking about it ever since that day by the river five years ago."
"Yes." Godric smiled. "We found something in common that day, and from that we birthed a dream. And now our dream is very close to becoming a reality, but Helga and Rowena are an essential part of it."
"Don't take me for stupid," Salazar growled, and looked up to meet Godric's eyes. Godric felt his insides lurch with a mix of fear and excitement - something Godric always felt when Salazar directed those piercing eyes toward him. "It is not them I speak of. They're useful and needed and that means they stay. It is now a part of them as much as it is a part of us. But in the beginning, remember, it was the two of us that started along this road with barely an idea in mind. It was our dream - yours and mine - and you have let pride blind you so that you have forgotten my part of the bargain. What I want and, specifically, what I don't want. But the way you all talk, discussing the students we will admit and the way we find them - those with blood of mud - goes against everything I believe in, and I will not take part in this if I am to watch my dream shattered and so distorted in front of my very eyes."
Godric closed his eyes. When Salazar started to say those things, he wanted to shout and curse and hit things. It wasn't only the anger at what Salazar was saying but the sheer fact that it had to be that way. That Salazar had to be the only person Godric trusted in the last five years, one of his closest friends, someone he admired and was fascinated by more than he sometimes thought was appropriate and someone who shared his dream with him so readily, but have such a huge, crippling, startlingly frightening flaw in judgement. The only thing that ever drove a wedge between them if anything ever did, and made them fight when they almost never fought otherwise.
Taking a deep breath, he stood up on his knees and grasped Salazar's hands in his. Salazar lurched, trying to free himself, never comfortable with any open sign of any affection, but Godric held firm.
"Look how far we've come," he said, staring into Salazar's eyes. "Two strangers, so completely different, and one accidental conversation, and look where we are now. It's time. Time to build the first wall, to cast the very first protection spell. We have to focus on that right now. We can't just give up when we've come so close, or let our differing opinions hinder this in any way."
"I am not building this school if -"
"We have to take this one step at a time. We're at a complete stand-still regarding this issue, there are hours of talking and debating yet until someone gives in in any way, and do you really want to take that time and do nothing when we could build half the school? Please, let's build this, see our dream come true, put all our efforts towards that and then, when it is relevant, begin talk of students and admissions and guidelines. Not now." When Salazar hesitated, staring down at their entwined hands, Godric added, "Do this for me."
And there, only for a second, Godric saw Salazar's eyes and features soften and was taken aback by the fact that his. seemingly completely detached, unsentimental, emotionless friend actually did care. He knew how strong Salazar felt on the issue of educating those not of "pure blood", and while he knew deep inside that Salazar would never relent or give in, he let himself hope. He realized it was idiotic of him to bank on some kind of miracle that would make everything alright when he knew one of them would have to be disappointed in the end but, as he leaned his forehead against Salazar's chest tiredly with a murmured "Thank you", having won the argument and put off the inevitable yet again, he let the lie lull him in a false, delicate sense of comfort.
~*~
Salazar tracked Godric down in the Owlery. He had considered bringing snakes, venom, or simply point his wand at his life-long friend and do what he wanted to do, but he just stood and stared as Godric leaned over the railing, staring out toward the horizon. He knew from Godric's hunched shoulders but proud, straight stance that he was expected, and he was going to be met head on, too.
Slowly, Godric turned around, his eyes sad and tired. He held a rolled up piece of parchment in his hand.
"That's the letter, isn't it?" Salazar growled, advancing a couple of steps. "A letter you've composed to those... those Muggle-borns?"
"It is," Godric replied steadily. "It took Rowena a couple of failed samples. Certain spells needed to be put on them and owls had to be acquired to ensure that these letters will only land in the right hands. In the wrong hands, the consequences could be catastrophic."
"That's what would be catastrophic?" Salazar almost shouted. "You knew, Godric. You've known all along, and all along you've been planning to do this, haven't you? You tell me I am cunning, but you've been the cunning one. You have your school, you got your way -"
"You think this is my way?" Godric shook his head angrily. "There are four of us, Salazar, who put their sweat and blood and tears into every inch of every stone of this building. What you demanded upon its completion -"
"I didn't just demand it upon completion. I made myself quite clear that I wouldn't have anything to do with contruction if-"
"You asked for too much, Salazar. There are four of us and we took a vote, because that was the only fair thing to do. Your opinions are yours and we respect them, but we do not agree with them, not one of us, and we cannot with a clear conscience enforce the what you demand upon the school."
"You knew this would be the outcome," Salazar hissed, "when you asked me those years ago to just wait and talk about all this when the school was completed. You used me because you needed me to build it, but you were never intending on even considering it."
Godric's face formed an expression that showed a mix between pain and desperation as he took a step toward Salazar so they were face-to-face, inches from each other.
"We've been fair, Salazar. You are free to do with your house whatever you please. Take whoever you please. Rowena has certain qualifications too, you know, that she considers most valuable, and so do Helga and I. We will choose students for our houses that we consider worthy in whichever way it is we look at the concept of worthiness. That way we can all agree to disagree. Do this for me.”
It was Salazar’s turn to lean his head against Godric’s, his fists clenched around his robes. As if snapping out of a reverie he jumped back moment after contact, however, and looked up at Godric with clear, cold, empty eyes.
“Does this really matter to you this much?” Salazar asked.
“It’s everything to me. And you matter to me too because -“
“Does it not matter to you what matters to me?”
“Salazar, please don’t be like this. I told you-”
“Very well.” He stepped back and gave a small formal bow. The emptiness in his eyes terrified Godric to his very soul. “I will play by your rules. I must go now. Lots of things to attend do before the students start to assemble.”
Godric stared after his friend with a sinking feeling in his stomach. This time, no matter how hard he tried, there wasn’t a lie good enough to quell his intuition.
~*~
Salazar didn’t stop to think too much about it. He was wronged, he was cheated, and all he tried to do was to be reasonable and fair. He didn’t consider his views bigotry. It was only common sense. If the magic was real, it ran in the veins of every one of one’s ancestors. He didn’t want to teach the flukes, the accidents. They weren’t meant to have such power, thus they should not be empowered and taught how to use that power, effectively supplying them with something they should never have had in the first place.
Every time Godric’s hopeful voice or pain-filled eyes clouded his judgement, Salazar pushed it to the back of his mind as he poured over thick volumes of dark spells, architecture and mystical, dangerous beings. He always got what he wanted. That was what made him him.
He taught his classes and spoke to the students he loathed the same way he spoke the ones he considered “worthy”. He turned away when he felt Godric’s worried eyes on him. He knew he looked like hell - tired with frightful bags under his eyes and getting thinner every day. No one knew where he went when he disappeared for hours at a time, or where all his power and energy went. He was aging prematurely and shrivelling up, and he didn’t think what he was doing couldn’t easily claim his life, but he would finish it no matter what.
On the night he flicked his wand for the final, finishing spell, he found himself in the middle of the night standing at Godric’s door.
“Salazar, you don’t have to do this,” Godric was saying, his eyes still sleepy. “Please don’t do this. This is all wrong. It’s not the way we imagined it.”
“It was never the way we imagined it,” Salazar answered coldly.
“Can’t we meet in the middle? Compromise something? Deal with this somehow?”
Salazar looked down, avoiding Godric’s eyes. This was the first goodbye that he ever felt. What he wanted was to step forward and then... Well, he knew that if he could ever push his body forward to close the foot-long gap between them that night, all his work and his planning would be ruined. He wouldn’t have the strength to do what he was doing, what he knew he had to do, then. The gap between him and Godric was too big to close now. Perhaps wasn’t ever small enough for either one of them to brave. Someone had to be the one to admit that.
He let Godric’s words pass through him without hearing them. Godric spoke of compromise, of friendship, of compassion, of kindness. Perhaps it was true that Salazar was not the best person in the world. Perhaps there was something skewed about what he believed, but he believed it nonetheless. He didn’t look for glory or chivalry that Godric so readily always portrayed. He stood for something, and he would not give in now. It was too late for that.
“Don’t you care about me at all?” Godric asked harshly, obviously saying something so personal, so revealing, as a last desperate result.
Salazar wanted to tell him. He wanted to throw it into Godric’s face how even thought Salazar couldn’t change and be the noble person Godric was, he still cared. He was familiar with kindness and he was more than familiar with sacrifice. That even though he didn’t want to admit it or even think about it, what could he be feeling but care when he was doing what he was doing?
When Godric had finally fallen silent, seemingly accepting that there was nothing left to say to make him stay, he said, “This school is everything to you. It is the most important thing in your life. It was you who came up with the idea of wanting to educate young wizards and witches the first time we ever spoke, but merely noting how dangerous and unfortunate it was for someone with that kind of power to have no idea how to ever use it. To waste it. You will see this school thrive. You will see wizards and witches that you teach come and go and become successful and change the world in your name. I cannot change the way I am or what I believe, Godric, but that I’ll do for you.”
Without a word more, he turned around and walked away, ignoring Godric’s calls or his own emotions. Godric would hate him, perhaps. He would never know. He would never find out about the Chamber of Secrets, about what Salazar had done. He would never see his beloved school fall or change in a way that he didn’t want it to be. It was the biggest kindness he could find - to do this and never have anyone know he did it. Godric would never know how much Salazar cared, or if he did at all, and that was Salazar’s punishment.
He didn’t know whether he’d see Godric again. He doubted it, of course. He had to find a wife and ensure a continuation of his blood and his name. For that, he had to get as far away as he could. He stood on the edge of the forest and stared at the towers of Hogwarts. He remembered clearly when there was nothing, and now there were dozens of kids learning, eager, unknowing of the horrors that slept just beneath their feet, only slightly out of reach.
Taking a last look and blocking all thought of the past from his mind, Salazar turned around and walked. He didn’t look back again.
Gift for: vegetasbubble
Author: midnight_birth
Pairing: Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin (pre-slash/friendship).
Rating: PG-13.
Warnings: None really.
Genres: Slashy gen.
Summary: Out of differing opinions and polar opposite personalities, an unlikely friendship develops. But when dreams are put on the line and a compromise cannot be reached, how much can either one sacrifice for someone they love?
Author's Notes: I really hope I hit at least close to what you were thinking, dear reader, and that you like it! I loved writing it. Thank you so much to the mods for their patience and understanding. Enjoy! ♥
~*~
Salazar Slytherin spent a lot of time staring at the river. He found it calming, somehow, to follow the current, listen to the water and let the monotonous sound and sight carry him off into a deep reverie. The truth was, the sound of the river reminded him of slithering and hissing of snakes - a sound that had become intimate to his ear quite recently, and that he enjoyed and loathed at the same time.
He had left his family and friends, his home, everything behind to come a long way looking for something. He didn't know what it was, but getting away from marshlands where snakes were a dozen every foot seemed the number one goal. Sitting by the river every day, he began to realize that he hadn't really thought it through. He wasn't yet twenty, he wasn't good with people, and he was alone in a foreign region with no one to turn to and nowhere to go. And even there, the snakes found him. He found himself talking to them for lengthy periods of time just to have someone to talk to, but they didn't prove the best companions.
He quickly figured out that his main ability wasn't merely being able to talk to snakes, it was being able to control them. Whatever he said, they obeyed, and that bored him.
It was by the river, while deep in conversation with a large green snake, that he had met Godric for the first time. The snake had heard him first. She startled and turned, hissing, Sssstranger, to Salazar warningly as she slithered away soundlessly into the grass. Salazar could hear - sense - that she didn't go very far. She would pounce if he only said the word.
Salazar was staring at the stranger wearily. The man was young and handsome, with a stocky build and brown shoulder-length hair, and was approaching slowly, his mouth set in a tight line and his hands raised where Salazar could see them, as if he was approaching a lunatic or a rabid animal. The place that Salazar had made his temporary home by the river was out of most people's way, but Salazar had seen a couple of travelers and merchants pass by, and couldn't be sure how much they had seen or heard. The only thing he did know was that anyone who saw him backed away and ran, obviously thinking him a leper or insane. Salazar's sunken cheeks, thin body and torn, dirty clothing justified those kinds of thoughts, and the fact that he either appeared to be talking to himself of to a snake didn't help the impression people had of him if they ran across him. He laughed to himself dryly when he imagined what his mother would think of his son - the Pureblood son of aristocracy brought up by the highest standards of etiquette and education looking like a wild child and a simple vagabond.
"Do you speak?" The stranger's voice was clear, loud and friendly.
"If you are asking whether I can speak, I can," Salazar answered calmly, reaching into his robes and grasping his wand tightly. "If you are asking whether I wish to speak, you are asking a different question that has a different answer."
The young man looked surprised, it seemed, both at Salazar's civilized and perfect speech, and his calm and sane demeanour, which surely did not match the way he looked. "I mean you no harm."
"If you did, you wouldn't tell me, but if you do, I would turn away and not look back."
The stranger frowned. "Or what? You will set that snake on me? The one that's hiding in the bushes?"
The two men stared at each other pointedly for a few moments and then, to Salazar's surprise, the young man started laughing, his body relaxing completely. He put down his arms and walked towards Salazar purposefully, stopping beside him and sinking onto the grass, all fear and hesitation gone. Salazar couldn't help but loosen his grip on his wand and study the other man curiously. He couldn't deny his surprise at the other man's nonchalance when it came to him being able to talk to snakes and, just to check, he turned towards where the snake was waiting, and hissed, "Hhherress."
He watched the stranger’s face closely as the snake came back out and froze in place, staring at Salazar expectantly. The stranger's eyes lit up in obvious admiration and wonder, something Salazar immediately found he rather enjoyed.
"My name is Godric Gryffindor," the young man said and outstretched his arm. Salazar had to wonder at Godric's bravery; Godric's hand was inches away from the snake, and were it to turn its head just a little to the right it could bite him in a second. The venom would kill him in under two minutes.
"Salazar Slytherin." Salazar shook Godric's hand and then hissed at the snake, which immediately shrunk down to the ground and disappeared.
"You have magic in you, Salazar," Godric said matter-of-factly, not asking but stating. Salazar nodded. "Do you come from a family of wizards and witches?"
Salazar nodded even as his lip curled in consternation. Where else could he have come from?
"And your family knows how to harvest the magic?" Godric asked to another nod as Salazar produced a wand and waved it in the air, producing a few sparks. "And have you been always able to speak with snakes? It is a rare gift, I hear."
Salazar shook his head thoughtfully. He was told by his father that it was uncommon, but he had never before encountered another wizarding family. He considered that it couldn't be that rare, really, and the only reason his parents thought it was was because there wasn't anyone in their family with the same capabilities. Hearing it from Godric, who, from what Salazar could safely deduce, was a wizard himself, he suddenly wondered exactly how rare Parseltongue was, and why he was the only one with that particular ability.
"I've heard about you in town," Godric said, smiling a little and throwing Salazar an intent look. "At first I didn't pay any mind, but when I started to hear words like "strange" and what some of the people claimed they saw you do, I started to wonder if you were... you know. And I had to come and see whether you were one of those who didn't know."
"Didn't know?" Salazar frowned. "How can one not know when you are taught this from an early age. Of course, if you're an orphan, I suppose-"
"The Muggles," Godric said. "You know, people - the rest of them. That's what my family calls them jokingly, you know, after mugs." Godric chuckled. "And I suppose they are easily fooled, nothing insulting about that. We do have advantages." He shrugged almost apologetically. "So imagine one of them is born like us. They wouldn't know how to do anything with it, but it's there anyway, which can potentially turn dangerous. We've encountered a few people like that all over the place - we used to move a lot - and my family had to take them away from the Muggles and educate them at least in basic magic so they wouldn't be hunted down for being... different."
Salazar was shaking his head slowly, trying to wrap his mind around what Godric was saying. Obviously, Godric was much less isolated from the world than him, particularly from the world of people like them, so he seemed to know more than anyone had ever told Salazar.
"I don't understand," he finally said, frowning. "How is that possible? People - the weaker, the stupider, the powerless - could have a child who would have magic in them? Magic is ancestral. It is something pure, not accidental."
Godric was staring at Salazar in wonderment again. "Afraid not. I suppose it would be easier if it was like that. But I suppose if a wizard and a witch can have a baby with no magic in them, it would only make sense if the opposite was true as well."
Salazar felt overwhelmed and suddenly very angry. How much did he not know? His family could be traced many generations back, and they were all magical. His, from what he was told, was one of the oldest wizarding families. Yet nobody had ever told him anything. What Godric was saying Salazar was hearing for the first time, and he was reluctant to accept it as truth. He had been brought up to believe that regular people were so much lower than wizarding folk he never even spoke to them unless strictly necessary. They were weak and useless and his father always said they were to people with power like dogs were to men. And now this stranger who didn't blink an eyes at Salazar speaking to a snake in front of him was telling him that one of the dogs could birth a human, that non-magical people could birth a wizard of a witch. There were so many wrong and unnatural things with that Salazar couldn't even begin to imagine where to start with all the questions he had.
Godric was observing Salazar's expression very closely, and it seemed something in it bothered him. He was frowning and shaking his head. "Listen," he said finally, before Salazar could collect his thoughts enough to speak, "you seem like you've travelled a long way. It's not safe for you here. Why don't you come back with me and I'll give you something to eat and something clean to wear and then we can talk about it, ok?"
Salazar considered. He didn't want charity or help, but he didn't want to stay living outside forever, especially with the nights getting colder. And if he didn't go with Godric he would have to go home before winter's start. Even with his wand he knew he wouldn't survive without a shelter. Without a word he got up and followed Godric. Perhaps it would benefit him to meet another wizarding family, too, and ask all the questions he was dying to know the answers to. He wanted to confirm the abnormalities Godric had told about him were true before he could decide what he wanted to do about them. Then time would tell.
~*~
Godric knew Salazar too well to think he was silent for any other reason than discontent. The more Rowena talked, scribbling maps in the sand with one long, delicate nail, the stormier Salazar's face became. It seemed to Godric his friend was going to blow up any minute, and he didn't want Ravena and Helga to be there when he did, especially because he was almost certain why Salazar was so out of sorts.
"It is brilliant, Rowena, as always," he said, giving the witch a warm smile. "There is nothing you can't figure out, is there?"
Rowena gave him a proud, slightly haughty smile and shrugged her shoulders gracefully. Helga, meanwhile, was looking from Godric to Salazar and frowning. She could feel, Godric knew, everything that wasn't being said, everything that Salazar was bursting to say, how much both of them wanted to be left alone. She gave Godric a long, intent look that gave him an eerie feeling that she knew more than she ever let on about what was going on and things to come and then stood up.
"Rowena, the sunset, it is nearing, I would like to show you something."
Godric and Salazar both seemed to be listening to the witches' dying footsteps and then what seemed to Godric like the world's longest and most loaded silence descended.
"I hate silence," Godric said finally, walking over to where Salazar was sitting in the grass, and sinking down next to him.
"Then why all the silence?" Salazar snapped. He then shook his head and glanced at the indents in the sand that were already being filled in by the wind. "There are things you know need to be said, and yet you pretend like everything's great and continue with all the planning as if you believe it can be avoided forever."
Godric sighed. "Salazar, I know this is not what you want or the way we planned it, even," he said slowly, not looking up to meet his friend's eyes, "but... They're brilliant. We need Helga and Rowena, we do. We can't do this alone." He edged closer to Salazar to make sure he was half-leaning against his leg. He always found his friend easier to reach if he established some kind of physical contact.
"We've been planning this for years," Salazar said, his voice harsh. "We haven't stopped talking about it ever since that day by the river five years ago."
"Yes." Godric smiled. "We found something in common that day, and from that we birthed a dream. And now our dream is very close to becoming a reality, but Helga and Rowena are an essential part of it."
"Don't take me for stupid," Salazar growled, and looked up to meet Godric's eyes. Godric felt his insides lurch with a mix of fear and excitement - something Godric always felt when Salazar directed those piercing eyes toward him. "It is not them I speak of. They're useful and needed and that means they stay. It is now a part of them as much as it is a part of us. But in the beginning, remember, it was the two of us that started along this road with barely an idea in mind. It was our dream - yours and mine - and you have let pride blind you so that you have forgotten my part of the bargain. What I want and, specifically, what I don't want. But the way you all talk, discussing the students we will admit and the way we find them - those with blood of mud - goes against everything I believe in, and I will not take part in this if I am to watch my dream shattered and so distorted in front of my very eyes."
Godric closed his eyes. When Salazar started to say those things, he wanted to shout and curse and hit things. It wasn't only the anger at what Salazar was saying but the sheer fact that it had to be that way. That Salazar had to be the only person Godric trusted in the last five years, one of his closest friends, someone he admired and was fascinated by more than he sometimes thought was appropriate and someone who shared his dream with him so readily, but have such a huge, crippling, startlingly frightening flaw in judgement. The only thing that ever drove a wedge between them if anything ever did, and made them fight when they almost never fought otherwise.
Taking a deep breath, he stood up on his knees and grasped Salazar's hands in his. Salazar lurched, trying to free himself, never comfortable with any open sign of any affection, but Godric held firm.
"Look how far we've come," he said, staring into Salazar's eyes. "Two strangers, so completely different, and one accidental conversation, and look where we are now. It's time. Time to build the first wall, to cast the very first protection spell. We have to focus on that right now. We can't just give up when we've come so close, or let our differing opinions hinder this in any way."
"I am not building this school if -"
"We have to take this one step at a time. We're at a complete stand-still regarding this issue, there are hours of talking and debating yet until someone gives in in any way, and do you really want to take that time and do nothing when we could build half the school? Please, let's build this, see our dream come true, put all our efforts towards that and then, when it is relevant, begin talk of students and admissions and guidelines. Not now." When Salazar hesitated, staring down at their entwined hands, Godric added, "Do this for me."
And there, only for a second, Godric saw Salazar's eyes and features soften and was taken aback by the fact that his. seemingly completely detached, unsentimental, emotionless friend actually did care. He knew how strong Salazar felt on the issue of educating those not of "pure blood", and while he knew deep inside that Salazar would never relent or give in, he let himself hope. He realized it was idiotic of him to bank on some kind of miracle that would make everything alright when he knew one of them would have to be disappointed in the end but, as he leaned his forehead against Salazar's chest tiredly with a murmured "Thank you", having won the argument and put off the inevitable yet again, he let the lie lull him in a false, delicate sense of comfort.
~*~
Salazar tracked Godric down in the Owlery. He had considered bringing snakes, venom, or simply point his wand at his life-long friend and do what he wanted to do, but he just stood and stared as Godric leaned over the railing, staring out toward the horizon. He knew from Godric's hunched shoulders but proud, straight stance that he was expected, and he was going to be met head on, too.
Slowly, Godric turned around, his eyes sad and tired. He held a rolled up piece of parchment in his hand.
"That's the letter, isn't it?" Salazar growled, advancing a couple of steps. "A letter you've composed to those... those Muggle-borns?"
"It is," Godric replied steadily. "It took Rowena a couple of failed samples. Certain spells needed to be put on them and owls had to be acquired to ensure that these letters will only land in the right hands. In the wrong hands, the consequences could be catastrophic."
"That's what would be catastrophic?" Salazar almost shouted. "You knew, Godric. You've known all along, and all along you've been planning to do this, haven't you? You tell me I am cunning, but you've been the cunning one. You have your school, you got your way -"
"You think this is my way?" Godric shook his head angrily. "There are four of us, Salazar, who put their sweat and blood and tears into every inch of every stone of this building. What you demanded upon its completion -"
"I didn't just demand it upon completion. I made myself quite clear that I wouldn't have anything to do with contruction if-"
"You asked for too much, Salazar. There are four of us and we took a vote, because that was the only fair thing to do. Your opinions are yours and we respect them, but we do not agree with them, not one of us, and we cannot with a clear conscience enforce the what you demand upon the school."
"You knew this would be the outcome," Salazar hissed, "when you asked me those years ago to just wait and talk about all this when the school was completed. You used me because you needed me to build it, but you were never intending on even considering it."
Godric's face formed an expression that showed a mix between pain and desperation as he took a step toward Salazar so they were face-to-face, inches from each other.
"We've been fair, Salazar. You are free to do with your house whatever you please. Take whoever you please. Rowena has certain qualifications too, you know, that she considers most valuable, and so do Helga and I. We will choose students for our houses that we consider worthy in whichever way it is we look at the concept of worthiness. That way we can all agree to disagree. Do this for me.”
It was Salazar’s turn to lean his head against Godric’s, his fists clenched around his robes. As if snapping out of a reverie he jumped back moment after contact, however, and looked up at Godric with clear, cold, empty eyes.
“Does this really matter to you this much?” Salazar asked.
“It’s everything to me. And you matter to me too because -“
“Does it not matter to you what matters to me?”
“Salazar, please don’t be like this. I told you-”
“Very well.” He stepped back and gave a small formal bow. The emptiness in his eyes terrified Godric to his very soul. “I will play by your rules. I must go now. Lots of things to attend do before the students start to assemble.”
Godric stared after his friend with a sinking feeling in his stomach. This time, no matter how hard he tried, there wasn’t a lie good enough to quell his intuition.
~*~
Salazar didn’t stop to think too much about it. He was wronged, he was cheated, and all he tried to do was to be reasonable and fair. He didn’t consider his views bigotry. It was only common sense. If the magic was real, it ran in the veins of every one of one’s ancestors. He didn’t want to teach the flukes, the accidents. They weren’t meant to have such power, thus they should not be empowered and taught how to use that power, effectively supplying them with something they should never have had in the first place.
Every time Godric’s hopeful voice or pain-filled eyes clouded his judgement, Salazar pushed it to the back of his mind as he poured over thick volumes of dark spells, architecture and mystical, dangerous beings. He always got what he wanted. That was what made him him.
He taught his classes and spoke to the students he loathed the same way he spoke the ones he considered “worthy”. He turned away when he felt Godric’s worried eyes on him. He knew he looked like hell - tired with frightful bags under his eyes and getting thinner every day. No one knew where he went when he disappeared for hours at a time, or where all his power and energy went. He was aging prematurely and shrivelling up, and he didn’t think what he was doing couldn’t easily claim his life, but he would finish it no matter what.
On the night he flicked his wand for the final, finishing spell, he found himself in the middle of the night standing at Godric’s door.
“Salazar, you don’t have to do this,” Godric was saying, his eyes still sleepy. “Please don’t do this. This is all wrong. It’s not the way we imagined it.”
“It was never the way we imagined it,” Salazar answered coldly.
“Can’t we meet in the middle? Compromise something? Deal with this somehow?”
Salazar looked down, avoiding Godric’s eyes. This was the first goodbye that he ever felt. What he wanted was to step forward and then... Well, he knew that if he could ever push his body forward to close the foot-long gap between them that night, all his work and his planning would be ruined. He wouldn’t have the strength to do what he was doing, what he knew he had to do, then. The gap between him and Godric was too big to close now. Perhaps wasn’t ever small enough for either one of them to brave. Someone had to be the one to admit that.
He let Godric’s words pass through him without hearing them. Godric spoke of compromise, of friendship, of compassion, of kindness. Perhaps it was true that Salazar was not the best person in the world. Perhaps there was something skewed about what he believed, but he believed it nonetheless. He didn’t look for glory or chivalry that Godric so readily always portrayed. He stood for something, and he would not give in now. It was too late for that.
“Don’t you care about me at all?” Godric asked harshly, obviously saying something so personal, so revealing, as a last desperate result.
Salazar wanted to tell him. He wanted to throw it into Godric’s face how even thought Salazar couldn’t change and be the noble person Godric was, he still cared. He was familiar with kindness and he was more than familiar with sacrifice. That even though he didn’t want to admit it or even think about it, what could he be feeling but care when he was doing what he was doing?
When Godric had finally fallen silent, seemingly accepting that there was nothing left to say to make him stay, he said, “This school is everything to you. It is the most important thing in your life. It was you who came up with the idea of wanting to educate young wizards and witches the first time we ever spoke, but merely noting how dangerous and unfortunate it was for someone with that kind of power to have no idea how to ever use it. To waste it. You will see this school thrive. You will see wizards and witches that you teach come and go and become successful and change the world in your name. I cannot change the way I am or what I believe, Godric, but that I’ll do for you.”
Without a word more, he turned around and walked away, ignoring Godric’s calls or his own emotions. Godric would hate him, perhaps. He would never know. He would never find out about the Chamber of Secrets, about what Salazar had done. He would never see his beloved school fall or change in a way that he didn’t want it to be. It was the biggest kindness he could find - to do this and never have anyone know he did it. Godric would never know how much Salazar cared, or if he did at all, and that was Salazar’s punishment.
He didn’t know whether he’d see Godric again. He doubted it, of course. He had to find a wife and ensure a continuation of his blood and his name. For that, he had to get as far away as he could. He stood on the edge of the forest and stared at the towers of Hogwarts. He remembered clearly when there was nothing, and now there were dozens of kids learning, eager, unknowing of the horrors that slept just beneath their feet, only slightly out of reach.
Taking a last look and blocking all thought of the past from his mind, Salazar turned around and walked. He didn’t look back again.