Foundation

Chapter Six

Godric's room was completely scarlet. Rowena, having never before been in his room, was rather taken aback as she stepped inside. The vibrant color practically thrummed before her eyes; it gave her a headache. She concentrated on the gold tapestry hanging on the wall to her immediate right. It was easier on the eyes.

Helga was very pointedly ignoring both Rowena and Godric's eyes. She kept her nose in the air, her eyes haughtily pointed forward. Rowena couldn't really blame her for being angry. In fact, she didn't blame her at all. She hoped, for Godric's sake, that he wasn't lying when he said that he really wasn't married.

Godric pulled a brilliant crimson chair from the corner and offered it to Helga, who ignored him completely and sat on a stiff wooden one instead. Rowena sighed and retreated into a corner, her hand on her wand. If anything got nasty, she'd be able to intervene. She felt like an intruder, however, standing in the midst of this obviously personal dilemma.

And, she missed Salazar.

No, she did not. Whether or not he had just apologized to her, whether or not they were now, perhaps, on speaking terms, Rowena refused to think those words. She focused her sight and thoughts on a particularly interesting stone in the wall, wondering if there were other stones in the castle that perfect shade of silver...

* * *

Helga was furious.

In fact, furious didn't even define the anger that was coursing through her veins. Like fire, it burned her, consumed her. Powered her.

She was ready to take anything Godric said. If he was married...who cared? If he wasn't, then they would get past this, and everything would be fine.

Sitting with her back perfectly straight, she settled her yellow bathrobe around herself and did her best to look fierce and menacing. She was good at fierce and menacing. Godric now perched very warily on the crimson chair she'd turned down. She turned her gaze to him.

"Explain."

Godric flinched; Helga could just see Rowena out of the corner of her eye, studying a stone in the wall. It was comforting to have her there, even if she did appear to be thinking about something else entirely.

"Rowena, where is Salazar?" Godric asked, clearly ignoring Helga's demand. Her eyes narrowed.

Rowena turned, shaken out of her thoughts. "I'm not entirely sure. Shall I go fetch him?"

Godric sat still for a moment, then: "Yes, but please ask him to entertain my...Sylvia...until I am able to get away."

Helga stiffened. She was not as smart and studious as Rowena, or as clever as Salazar, but it didn't take an idiot to realize that he had almost said "my wife." He would pay very, very dearly for doing this to her.

Rowena looked between the two of them, as if assessing whether or not it was safe to go, before nodding once and leaving the room, shutting the door very softly behind her.

"Tell me, Godric, your wife...how long have you been married? Any children that I should know about?"

Godric took a very deep breath, and despite herself Helga was impressed that he was still able to breathe. She knew that when she was angry it was not a pleasant thing. At all. At any time.

She liked it that way.

"Helga, please forgive me," he said slowly, keeping himself very still and meeting her eyes. "I am not, you see, the most terribly moral person to ever live. I have a weakness for...for beautiful women."

Helga folded her hands very carefully in her lap, pressing her lips together. She concentrated on the scarlet rug beneath her chair, its intricate swirls and loops keeping her from reaching out and killing Godric.

* * *

The moment Helga had stormed into the room, Salazar had known it was definitely time to make himself invisible. Not literally, of course. He merely stood, gave Rowena what he hoped was an encouraging look, and left as swiftly as he could without actually running. Now he wandered the cold dungeons, comforted by the flickering shadows and musty air. He had spoken to Rowena. She had forgiven him. All was well...he hoped. Their conversation hadn't actually lasted all that long.

But it was a start, and a good one at that.

He smiled smugly as he walked, thinking. Rowena was important to him. She wasn't pureblood, but he couldn't hold that against her. If she continued to refuse to even speak about the obvious superiority of purebloods, however, his opinion might change.

He'd had a lot of time to think during their silence. A lot of time to think about what his priorities were; about the school. The chamber that he had built, stocked, and sealed, would surely do its duty in years to come.

If need be, he could always open it sooner.

He had no desire to kill Rowena. He had no desire to kill Helga and Godric, either, although both were purebloods. But the students at his school who were not pureblood did not deserve an education. Godric and Helga had tried to tell him that witches and wizards who were not pureblood had just as much talent as those who were, but he did not agree.

If a child had Muggle parents, how could their magic possibly be as strong as a pureblood child? It simply was not possible.

He was aware, of course, that his thoughts had taken a much more...drastic turn during the past few days. Rowena's absence had given him the excuse of wandering alone, musing, in the damp dungeons of Hogwarts. Mostly, he had thought about her. But when he wasn't thinking about her...Salazar was thinking about the Basilisk.

* * *

Rowena found Salazar, as she knew she would, walking the silent halls of the dungeon. She smiled tentatively, aware that she had just brought him back from some very deep thoughts. His eyes focused on her slowly, the answering smile just as timid as hers. He offered her his arm, and they walked slowly toward the stairs to the upper level.

"Godric asked that you would find his wife some food and comfort until he was finished talking to Helga," she said, looking up at him. He continued to gaze straight ahead.

"Ah."

She was silent for a moment. "But I wanted to see you, too."

A smile hovered over his lips. They mounted the stairs, arms still linked, silent. Rowena tried not to focus her attention on the flickering flames in the torches, concentrating instead on how perfectly her arm fit into his.

* * *

"Sylvia...she was my wife. I won't deny that. But she is not any longer."

"And yet, earlier you started to call her just that, your wife."

Godric sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes as he shook his head. "Habit only."

"She introduced herself as your wife," Helga said coldly, looking up now. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously.

Godric managed a grin. "Perhaps she's a little hurt that I left her?" He shrugged. "She is not my wife any longer."

The suspicious look on Helga's face didn't lift. She eyed him speculatively, her arms now crossed over her chest. Godric tried to meet her gaze directly, knowing that if he didn't it would mean very bad things for him.

He smiled, hesitating. "You are definitely the only woman in my life...in that way. Right now."

Helga studied him for a moment before lowering her eyes and tucking a stray blonde curl behind her ear, staring at the floor. Godric would have thought that she had turned suddenly shy on him, but then she looked back up and her eyes were as steely as ever.

"Prove it," she said, her voice low.

"Very well." He rose from his seat and cordially offered his hand. "Madam, if you would come with me." He gave a very small bow, fighting the grin that threatened to take over. Helga very distrustfully took his hand, eyeing it as if she expected him to pull away or do something of the sort at any moment.

He drew her out of his bedroom into the hallway, keeping his eyes on her the whole time so that she couldn't look away. They walked slowly down the stone passageway, ignoring students clearly up past curfew.

* * *

Rowena was quite content. In fact, she was more content then she had been in quite some time. For one, she was seated next to Salazar, and they were on speaking terms. That, in itself, was cause enough for celebration.

But her night had gotten quite a bit better when Godric and Helga had walked in, their hands twined together, staring into the other's eyes as if there wasn't a single other person in the world, Helga still wearing her brilliant yellow bathrobe. Naturally, Godric's self-titled wife didn't enjoy that scene too terribly much, but Rowena had a sneaking suspicion that she'd get over that.

This woman was something none of them had expected. Salazar and Rowena had gone to welcome her, doing their best to be cordial, and found that she wasn't, in fact, the sort of lady that they expected Godric to even look twice at. They all knew of his love for beautiful women, of course, and his ex-wife was...anything but, to put the phrase nicely.

Rowena watched her over the heavy oak table between them, assessing. Despite the heaps and heaps of food set before Sylvia, she ate nothing, merely stared about in awe at the awesome castle. The sky that night projected a perfectly crystal clear sky, millions of stars twinkling gaily down at the three adults seated at the table. Sylvia, after staring at the stars for a few moments, had then proceeded to gaze around at the house banners, strips of crimson, yellow, blue, and green, and then around at the hundreds of candles that lit the hall.

It was hard to tell, but it was almost as if she could perform no magic of her own. Rowena had yet to see any traces of wand on Sylvia's person.

* * *

Salazar excused himself with the arrival of Godric and Helga. He kissed Rowena gently, squeezed her hand, admired the view of her slim figure in that wonderfully cut gray gown, and then slipped off through the doors that led to the entrance hall. He stopped, once out of sight, and took a deep breath, looking around. There was no sign of any students, but looks could be deceiving.

Treading as quietly as possible through the dimly lit corridors, he made his way stealthily towards the entrance.

This would be the first time he'd entered since its creation. He found his palms clamming up as he neared the bathroom, but whether that was out of nervousness or anticipation he wasn't sure. It was hard to tell, what with both emotions flitting through him greedily, eating him up.

He must see the chamber. He must know that none of the others had discovered it...there would not be any way that they could, but nevertheless...

The bathroom was uninhabited. Salazar shut the wooden door behind him and threw the latch, testing his weight against it to make sure it would hold. He stopped for a moment as he turned, looking around him. Naturally, he wasn't able to come into this particular bathroom all that often, considering it was a girl's bathroom, but he had always been impressed by Rowena and Godric's ability to make even a bathroom a grand room. This one in particular, it seemed, was equipped with thick, bubbly glass and finely crafted porcelain chamber pots, each with varying floral designs skittering across their scintillating surfaces.

But even the bathroom couldn't hold his interest for long. Salazar advanced upon the sink, remembering exactly which faucet would grant him access. There was a brief moment when he scared himself by thinking that perhaps this chamber should never be opened again; perhaps what lay inside should stay there until some foolish student thinking to mess with the snake language somehow managed to find their way inside. This moment of hesitation, of guile, passed so quickly he wasn't even sure afterward that it had entered into his mind at all.

A sort of smiling grimace spread itself across his thin mouth. Reaching out, he touched a hand to the snake inscribed carefully on the faucet and hissed. Speaking Parseltongue brought to him a sensation unlike any other. The feel of the words on his tongue, the way they seemed to slither out, slipping through the gaps in his teeth; it brought about a pleasant humming.

But he was now staring as the sink sank away, revealing a hole just big enough for him to fit. Smiling openly now, he lowered himself inside and let go.

The wind whipped his dark hair back across his skull, something that would have been pleasant if it weren't for the fact that a terrible stench now rose from the depths of the pipe, overcoming any pleasing feeling Salazar might have experienced.

The long, gray expanse of the tube was much shorter than he remembered. He was propelled out into a dank hallway, and before he even had time to think had to shut his eyes against the green serpent before him.

"Look away," he said, hissing. The air seemed to shift around Salazar, as though the gigantic serpent moved slowly through the small space, and then it spoke in return.

"I think not, fragile masssster...tell me why you are here, and perhapsssss I will lissssten to what you have to ssssay..."

Salazar ground his teeth together, and spoke...

* * *

It was a wondrous, thing, love, and so hard to miss when watching Godric and Helga together that Rowena almost had to look away. Perhaps that way she'd be saved some of her sanity...did she and Salazar look that way...?

Sylvia, she noticed, looked about to lose her meal at any moment. The homely woman's thin, stretched mouth was pressed together so hard the pink skin was white with tension; her bony hands were balled into fists, resting on the edge of the wooden table. Her wide face was unusually flushed, the hint of red rushing down her neck and disappearing into the stoically cut neckline of her dress, which was a most unbecoming prune color.

In a way, Rowena almost felt sorry for Sylvia. She clearly had not come here expecting to find Godric so happy with another woman. Perhaps she had thought that he would not have moved on as they had both thought...perhaps she had intended to rekindle what had formerly been.

One thing was clear, Godric paid very little attention to the fuming woman. The few short seconds his attention could be diverted away from Helga was usually only to briefly answer a query or get something off of a platter and transfer it to his plate.

Helga, on the other hand, was positively glowing by the time the evening began to come to a close. Rowena could almost see the happy bubble that surrounded her friend, and for a while Rowena thought that perhaps their world was finally falling into place.

* * *

Sylvia left two days later. All four of them turned out to see her off, not wanting to be rude, but it was obvious that not one of them was sad to see her go.

Especially Helga. Salazar almost said something to her about how blatantly rude she was being towards Godric's ex-wife, but he feared her wrath perhaps more than he let on to the others. He did his own part, bidding her farewell courteously and then melting efficiently into the background where no one but Rowena would notice him.

But no matter. He knew as well as anyone that this was not the time to be thinking about cordial farewells and petty jealously matters among women. Salazar didn't wait to see Sylvia walk off down to the front gates where her carriage awaited. Instead, he headed to the girl's bathroom.

* * *

Rowena knew the moment Salazar left the room. She was much too polite to leave in the same manner that he did, merely slipping off so that no one would realize the moment she'd left. Instead she waited until Sylvia had driven off before excusing herself and heading swiftly towards Salazar's quarters.

He wasn't there.

She headed for the next best place: the dungeons. But even as she descended the steps to the damp halls below the school she knew she wouldn't find him there. She searched anyway. In fact, she searched so frantically that several students stopped her and asked if she was alright. A few of them even went so far as to try and direct her.

For hours, Rowena searched, running from room to room, asking anyone she came across if they had seen him. When she had no energy left she crawled. Something was pressing her on, telling her that for some reason...she must find Salazar...

Rowena had nothing left. When she reached his private quarters for the third time she collapsed in front of the door and curled her knees up to her chest, close to sobbing. She told herself firmly that she was being irrational and emotional, something she wasn't particularly prone to and she knew it, but no matter what she told herself the feeling of panic would not subside. It flew swifter than the newest model of broomstick through her veins, sizzling its way into her being.

The door behind her was a solid presence. Rowena leaned her head against it and closed her eyes, letting her dark hair fall away from her face. There was no reason to panic. Salazar would return any moment, and they would spend a wonderful night together, just like old times...

* * *

Godric was perfect. There were no other words for it. Sure there was the occasional mistake...but those didn't count, if you really thought about it. Helga was quite positive that there was no man on earth that could rival Godric for sheer perfectness.

They had contented themselves with talking for the night, although this time, instead of the short wooden chair she'd chosen before, Helga chose to perch on the end of the bed, just out of Godric's reach.

The conversation wasn't particularly important, but they were together, and for Helga that was enough. Just seeing him there, sitting across from her, that smug grin on his face, could not have made Helga happier. She loved him, right down to the silly scarlet socks that he wore.

Nothing could make this day any worse. Nothing could make her life, at that moment, become less than what she felt for Godric.

But of course, something did.

Mainly, it was the blood-curdling scream that shook the castle itself that made both Helga and Godric jump to their feet.

"Damn." Godric sprinted towards the door and threw it open. "You go right, I'll go left," he told her, and with a grim nod ran like mad to the left.