Foundation

Chapter Four

"Now, it is important that you understand that this class is not going to be a pushover. You are here to learn Transfiguration--or the art of transforming something into something else--and unless what you are talking about has to do with this, James, I suggest you put that away. Thank you, now, over the course of this year, your first year, you will be learning to do such things as change a beetle into a button, a needle into a stick, this sort of thing. You will find that it is easier to make something a natural element--such as wood--then it is to change it into something refined by human beings--a needle. Today we will begin your assignment. Please get out your wands and follow my lead." With a great shuffle of papers and bags all of the first year students pulled out their various wands and stared expectantly at Rowena.

"Good, now, today we will be changing this spoon"--Rowena hoisted a wooden spoon into the air--"Into a fork." Rowena pointed her wand at the spoon and said, "Furca." With a glowing green light the bowl of the spoon split into four parts and thinned itself into a fork. The students watched with wide-eyed expressions.

"Don't forget the movements, these are just as important as pronouncing the words correctly. Do you understand? I will come around and help as you work."

Rowena smiled encouragingly at her students as they stared at her with blank expressions. "Well? Get to work!"

With a great murmur of excitement the students turned to the spoons that had been laid out on their tables. The first thing Rowena noticed was that they were pronouncing all sorts of different words, she only saw one who was actually saying it correctly. Already that young boy had his spoon with two sharp edges at the end.

"Everyone, please turn your attention to young Oliver here. He seems to be well on his way to getting it right! I also want you to notice how he is pronouncing the word. This is correct, boys and girls, and as of yet he is the only one to pronounce it correctly. Fur-ca! Now, try again and try to get it this time."

Rowena noticed that Oliver was looking around with a proud expression and looking at his fork with a greater expression of joy. Rowena walked over to where he sat and looked down at him. "You don't have it yet, Oliver, please keep working."

He looked up at her, his eyes beginning to become teary. "But you said that I had said it right and everything!"

Rowena silently blessed the fact that she enjoyed small children and smiled kindly down at him. "I did, didn't I? Keep it up," she said, and then when she was satisfied that he was back to his normal level of energy she moved on to other students.

As the hour and a half lesson continued Rowena had little more progress than that of Oliver. He successfully changed his spoon into a fork during the last few moments of the class, while there was only one other girl who even came close. Just before the magically magnified bell peeled across the school grounds Salazar came into the room with a large grin on his face.

"Rowena!" But as soon as he stepped in and saw the students he stopped. "You have a class?"

Rowena gave a small laugh and smiled. "It would appear so."

"Ah, well, I'll just come back later then..." he said, and with an uncertain look at the students he started to back out of the room.

"Salazar the class is almost over, you mine as well help me give these students a few more pointers and stay."

All of the students seemed to like this idea quite a bit. Several of them cheered while most just wore large smiles. This was, in fact, their second class, and Salazar had done the same thing during the first one. All of them had at that time found it immensely humorous, something that immediately pitted Salazar against them. He didn't enjoy being laughed at, especially from little kids.

With a shaky sigh he put a smile on his face and came into the room. "Alright, well, since you asked so nicely." Of course he couldn't have said no to Rowena, but he did resent the fact that she used her feminine powers against him. Naturally this was something that she did without realizing it, but then Salazar wouldn't know that, as he wasn't female. And at this point he was still feeling slightly bitter that he had to spend more time with the brats that had laughed at him to heartily before.

But Salazar enjoyed making Rowena laugh and smile and so he entered the room anyway and set to work helping the brats for the remainder of the class.

And when the bell finally did ring he was awarded with a kiss from Rowena. "You handled that well, I know you don't like kids much," she said, smiling at him.

Salazar shrugged and grinned back. "Anything for you, Rowena."

Rowena rolled her eyes and backed away to begin clearing away all of the spoons--and the one fork. "We should probably sift through these and check to see if anyone did get anywhere close to Oliver."

Salazar nodded. "I can do that."

Rowena smiled and moved to the nearest desk, motioning for Salazar to get to work.

After a while Salazar said, "So tell me, is this Oliver child pureblood?"

He looked up briefly to see what Rowena's reaction would be, and she had paused in her work, a small frown creasing he forehead. "I don't see why that would matter, Salazar."

Salazar tried to reply nonchalantly, "Well, I was just wondering. I am trying to pick out which students I want in my house."

This time Rowena stood up and looked at him full in the face, her displeasure obvious. "And you're only going to take purebloods?" she hissed.

Salazar, at this point, started to regret having said anything. He certainly did not enjoy it when Rowena was angry with him and generally tried to avoid causing it to happen. "Well, each house to his own."

But Rowena was giving him such a look of loathing that he did have the sudden urge to apologize. "Look, I shouldn't have said anything, I was just--"

"You were just what? Being a git?! You know I don't approve of such things as pureblood segregation. How could you bring it up like this? I happen to think that Oliver is a brilliant student! Even if he isn't pureblood!"

"Well we're aloud to have varying opinions aren't we? I happen to think--"

But Rowena interrupted him in a terrible, deadly voice. "If you say one more word, Salazar Slytherin, I will personally see to it that you never have children of your own!"

"Ah, yes well I'm fairly certain I heard Godric calling me anyway. I will see you at dinner, Ms. Ravenclaw."

She stared at him with cold indifference and watched with pursed lips as he left the room.

* * *

Rowena sat cross-legged on her bed, a thin nightgown over her normal underclothes and a thick stack of papers to one side. A smaller stack sat to her right, and every once in a while, as she scanned a quill over the pages, she would make a small mark and then carefully put the paper on top of the smaller stack, carefully squaring the edges before she grabbed another from the larger stack.

It had been three days since Salazar had said that he preferred purebloods to those who did not come from wizarding families. The two had been extremely formal since then, something that both saddened and gladdened Rowena. She missed his company--he was quite humorous and enjoyed making her laugh and smile--but...something about the things that he had said told her to steer clear for the time being. Rowena herself was not a pureblood witch--her mother came from an extremely long lineage of wizards while her father had just one generation--and it made her uneasy that Salazar held some vehemence towards those who weren't pureblood. But then...he hadn't actually said anything against them; he had just mentioned that he wanted those that were pureblood in his own house.

But Rowena missed his company. She had grown used to his constant presence. He had become her sort of rock on shaky ground...as much as she hated to admit it. Rowena had always prided herself in her independence; to rely on someone as she had come to do with Salazar....

* * *

Salazar was not happy. He was angry with himself for talking with Rowena the way that he had. The past few days had been torture for him. He had grown used to making her laugh. But then...he didn't necessarily regret saying what he had. He had always firmly believed that if the truth weren't involved in a relationship it would never work. He had hoped that she would feel the same way about purebloods--it had only been until later that night that he had remembered she wasn't pureblood--and had hoped that she would pick the same for her own house.

He had gone straight to Godric after that incident and talked to him about it.

"Well, Salazar, I definitely think you could have handled it better."

Salazar glared at him. "How so?" he asked shortly.

Godric waved his wand at a small green creature that had been slowly crawling away during their conversation. It flew back into a cage with a loud squeak. "To put it simply, Salazar, women don't like it when you don't agree with them: especially Rowena. She's smart, she knows what she's talking about. I think she probably felt like you were intruding on her own sense of what's right and what's wrong.

"Now, when I'm with Helga I'm always sure to carefully plan what I'm going to say before I say it. I don't know--"

"Yes, but you're with Helga, Godric. She has mood swings all the time! And she forgets about things like this...Rowena doesn't."

Godric shot his friend a skeptical look. "You're supposed to know how to handle her, not get me to talk to her for you. The best advice I can give you, Salazar"--Godric poked Salazar in the chest, giving him a stern glance--"Is to talk to her yourself. She's your woman, you should be able to work it out."

Godric closed the door to the cage with the green creature and locked it. He placed the key back on its hook and with one last look at Salazar left the room. With a great sigh of frustration Salazar slumped back into a chair. What was he to do? He had thought for sure that Godric would be able to give him advice. If anything he had made it worse! Salazar had also been harboring a certain hope that Godric would agree with him as well on the pure-blood situation, but Godric had very carefully avoided directly stating whether he agreed or not: Salazar always knew when he was trying to worm his way out of saying something, and he had most definitely been avoiding talking about the pure-bloods.

Perhaps he should go to Helga? She was the only way he could get advice now...he just had to hope that she didn't have a class.

Salazar sneered at the green creature--which had been laughing and pointing at him while he thought--and gave the cage a slap. It wobbled dangerously and looked as if it would tip over, but didn't. The creature sneered right back, its little hands gripping the bars as if it knew exactly what to do to make Salazar more annoyed.

Salazar, who was greatly aggravated at this point, scowled heavily at the thing and left the room with huff. He would have to search out Helga--he had made a point of always knowing where Rowena was, but hadn't bothered to keep up with Helga's schedule--and talk to her before he could take action. He was a little worried that she wouldn't know how to help him either, but as Rowena's best friend he was almost positive she would have some sort of answer.

It took him nearly an hour to find Helga in the vast expanse of the Hogwarts hallways. It turned out that she had retired to her rooms after dinner to grade papers.

"Salazar! Have you come to help me grade papers?" she said, grinning and wagging a thick stack of papers in front of him.

Salazar backed up, his hands in front of him: but he also wore a grin. "I fear not, dear Helga. Instead I have to come to ask for you advice."

Helga's grin widened to a smile and she set the papers down. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Now, let me guess. You and Rowena had a fight about...the school?" She waved her hand around to indicate financial matters or something of that sort.

Salazar grimaced. "That's about it, yes. We had a disagreement about purebloods and the others."

"Ah, yes she is rather particular about that topic. Did you not know?" Helga looked at him as if he had missed something that had been blatantly obvious.

Salazar stared at her, shocked. Thinking back on it, she did seem to have become rather irritable whenever he mentioned his pureblood background...why hadn't he noticed it before?

"It's because you're male. Your sex never notice the things that are staring them in the face." She pursed her lips and looked at him. She was sitting on her bed--which was completely covered in pink silk-like cloth--in an equally pink nightgown. Her hair was loose and gathered around her shoulders. He couldn't help but think that Godric had landed a beauty...

"Salazar, if you want my advice it would probably be better if you didn't gawk at me so. Honestly, you went from concerned to drooling in a second!"

Salazar ignored her. "How did you know that I hadn't realized that she was sensitive to pure-blood topics?"

Helga tapped her nose, her blue eyes twinkling. "I'm a girl, Salazar, we know these things."

Salazar shot her a look and she shook her head. "Oh, Salazar, you just don't pay attention! Had you actually listened to Rowena and what she said instead of just looking at her all the time you'd have figured it out on your own and not have had it come to this. Now, I want you to leave this room and don't come pack unless you have made up with her. She needs a man right now, Salazar, not a boy." She stared at him as if daring him to contradict what she was saying, but he said not a word. He gave her an extremely icy look and crossed to the door.

"I'll just be going then," he said, opening the door. Helga smiled at him.

It took all of Salazar's resolve to not slam the door on his way out; instead he pounded his fists against the rough stonewall. "Dammit!" he hissed, completely frustrated with Helga's unhelpful advice. "I'm just going to have to figure this out myself!" With another pound on the wall he stomped down the hallway, cursing as he went.

And just his usual luck, Rowena rounded the corner just as he was muttering a particularly vile curse. He stopped dead in his tracks and just looked at her.

She seemed equally surprised. She was wearing her usual blue, though she wore her hair a bit differently: swept back in a loose bun, strands of hair hanging loose from it. Salazar thought the look very becoming.

She regained her composure much more quickly than he, however. "Hello," she said coldly, looking down at the stack of papers she was holding as if they were much more interesting than the man standing before her.

"Rowena..."

Her head snapped up, her blue eyes flashing. "Don't you dare," she hissed, and she swept past him, taking particular care to not touch him as she went.

With an exasperated sigh Salazar called to her, but she didn't answer. If anything could have made his mood worse, it was being ignored by Rowena. He did care for her, even if she wasn't pureblood...Didn't he? He shook his head hard and thought about chasing after her, but decided against it when he heard Helga's voice drifting down the hall.

"Rowena, what's the matter?"

As curious as he was, Salazar would never resort to eavesdropping for a solution, so he continued on his way. He hoped to at least get some sleep that night, as for the past few he hadn't been able to. His classes had suffered because of it and he knew he was snapping at his students. But what could he do? He hated it when people were angry with him--even if he did enjoy pushing their buttons at times--and had never before experienced the long-holding grudge of a woman. At least, he had heard that they held grudges for a long time, and had taken this theory for truth ever since Rowena had ceased even looking at him if she could.

So he headed to his rooms, hoping that for once he could wake up refreshed instead of worried.

* * *

"Rowena, what's the matter?" Helga asked, looking at her friend, and while she knew exactly what the matter was she had always believed that stating the problem was the first step towards forgiving the wrongdoer...even if Helga herself had never used this method to solve her problems.

Rowena sniffed--something she rarely did--and looked over at her friend. "It's Salazar...I just can't believe he said that to me! And he won't take it back either...do you think I'm overreacting, Helga?" Rowena sat came and lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I think you should answer that yourself. Has he tried apologizing? Has he shown signs of wanting you to forgive him?"

Rowena sighed. "Yes, I think just a moment ago he was trying to apologize. But I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive him...not yet." Rowena gave a small shudder and grabbed the nearest pink pillow, hugging it tight.

"If you're waiting for a miracle you'll be waiting for a long time. If you stay mad at him like this there's no way he'll even think about apologizing: he'll be too scared to come near you." Helga gave her a friend a small smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rowena asked.

"You're scary when you're mad, Rowena. I don't know if you knew that or not, but you really are."

"I like to test people..." Rowena whispered, and Helga stared at her.

"What do you mean by that? What are you testing them for?" Helga frowned slightly.

"To see how loyal they are to me. You know I like to keep only loyal friends around me...It's no fun if I can't trust the people I see every day."

"I suppose, but I'd still reconsider that when you're in a relationship. Men work in strange ways, Rowena, at least Salazar does."

"I could have figured that much out by myself, but what I want to know is how loyal he is to me...The one of us who isn't pureblood. What do you think, does he seem loyal?"

Helga looked away so that her friend couldn't see her face. "I think there's more to Salazar than we've seen yet," she whispered.