Foundation

Helga sighed daintily as Rowena left, glancing at Godric. "She's worrying me."

Godric grimaced, and took Helga's hand. "Despite that, she seems to be taking it all rather well."

"Do you think she knows?" Helga's voice was small, quiet. Godric settled his eyes on the floor, thinking, not even seeing the jutting stones beneath his feet.

"Rowena is brilliant," he said finally, and a heavy silence pressed in on them. It was only a matter of time before Rowena had even a little inkling of what was going on. Before she found that Salazar...

No, it couldn't be thought. Godric himself still refused to believe it. There was that chance, yes, there was always a chance. Godric didn't know a single person who lacked the capacity for it. But Salazar, deliberately attacking a student?

Impossible.

Even Salazar was not that cold-hearted. He was prejudice, cynical...but Godric could never fully believe that Salazar Slytherin would do something so evil.

Would he?

***

Entering a Pensieve was not at all pleasant for her, and it was something Rowena had only ever done once before. Godric, perhaps, could handle the swirling gray, but it made her sick to her stomach. She couldn't stand not being oriented.

So it was with intense relief that she settled down into a room in the very castle she had helped build, one that she recognized instantly as Salazar's own quarters. There was no other place in the school so covered in his favorite colors, silver and green. She fancied she could even smell him there, which she deemed possible, as this was a memory. It took some time getting used to the fact that she was inside Godric's head now.

Sitting still on Salazar's bed, she waited.

And waited.

She sat for what seemed hours. Godric was hunched in a chair in the corner, his eyes covered. He'd never liked silver. It always amused her that Godric refused to come into this room except on special occasions.

This was apparently one of those rare occasions, as there Godric sat, presumably waiting for Salazar to make his appearance.

And appear he did, fashionably late. Rowena couldn't help the softening of her heart when he opened that door. Salazar's eyes were narrowed; he was so deep in thought he had walked halfway across the room before he even realized Godric was there.

His surprise was easily masked, something Rowena had long since noticed. Nothing seemed to rattle Salazar. A student had been attacked; he'd seemed more worried about Rowena than about the child himself.

The contrast between Godric and Salazar in this memory was startling. Godric's features were worried, taught. His emotions were there on his face for all to see. This had always been Godric's way: always smiling and charming young women. Salazar, on the other hand, was perfectly blank of expression. His dark eyes fixed on Godric, cool and assessing.

Godric looked up, and the wariness in his eyes startled Rowena so much that she stood from the bed and crossed the room to where Godric sat, watching his face. Never before had she seen such an expression on that face, directed at Salazar. It was almost as if he looked upon a stranger that he did not trust.

"What can I do for you, Godric?" Salazar asked, never one for meaningful looks and pointless silences.

A short pause followed these words, and as Rowena studied Godric's face she saw those wary eyes steeling themselves for something to come.

"I found the most curious thing today," Godric said, starting the story abruptly, a hint of his smile returning as he attempted to make the words light-hearted. "As I was walking past a ladies' restroom, I could not help but notice that there were several young girls muttering to themselves about a hole in the wall."

Salazar's expression remained exactly the same as he took a step back to lean against a doorframe, watching Godric, who now pointedly studied the ceiling.

"Of course once I neared they immediately asked me if there was a reason one of the sinks had disappeared and why the plumbing had taken up such a very large hole. So I, of course, investigated." He paused, his eyes shifting for just a moment to Salazar before flicking to a corner of the room, where they settled once again.

"I found myself at quite a loss for the reason of this strange hole. And mind you, this was quite early this morning, so I contacted the house elves immediately, though they knew nothing about this missing sink and gaping hole."

It struck Rowena that Salazar would have, at this point, interrupted any other story to demand that Godric get to the point. He had done this many times with her, as though it pained him to listen to a story that didn't reveal its purpose at the beginning. She abandoned her position by Godric, moving slowly towards Salazar, studying his face for discrepancies.

There. Just a slight wrinkle to his eye; the tiniest hint of unease. Only she would recognize this; Godric, though he was intelligent in his own way, had never taken to the art of studying people. Rowena retreated to a position near green-draped window, watching. There was meaning to this memory or she would never have ended up here.

Unconsciously fiddling with the golden edge of his jacket, Godric continued unhindered by interruption. "They promised to set about fixing the area immediately, so I set off for my class. But when I returned that afternoon they said that as they were gathering the proper supplies needed for patching the wall and replacing the sink they found that the sink had reappeared, and no hole was to be found."

He paused, watching Salazar, as Rowena did. He stared back placidly, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. Godric paused for so long that Salazar actually spoke. "Was there a point to this story?" he asked scathingly.

Godric watched him for a moment. "The faucet on the sink had a snake carved on it." He cocked his head at Salazar. "I know of no other Parselmouth."

Salazar scoffed. "And the simple reason that it had a snake on it leads you to believe that I have something to do with it?"

Godric shook his head slowly, frowning at the floor. "I've spoken with Helga, and she has no memory of any chambers being built in the school."

Only Rowena noticed the flash of Salazar's eyes.

No, she thought frantically. There is no way he could have built a secret chamber...

"What makes you think there's a chamber?" Salazar smirked at Godric. "Jumping to ridiculous conclusions, as always."

"Is it ridiculous?" Godric stood, one hand on the hilt of his sword, as was his habit when he was deep in thought. "How do we know you didn't build something there?"

"You seem to forget that you conveniently left me in charge of building the dungeons. If I had built something you and Rowena would have known."

Godric's head turned sharply, piercing Salazar with a solid stare. "And does Rowena know anything of this?"

Salazar made a face. "I am not her keeper. Ask her yourself."

Rowena's heart sank at the look on his face. Disdain. Dislike.

Surely these were not his thoughts when he thought of her?

She knew they had not always been that way. For a time the two had been inseparable. She had no doubt that at least during that period of bliss, he had cared for her. Whether or not he did now...

They had not spoken seriously in weeks. He greeted her, and she went to his rooms on occasion, but nothing else of consequence passed between them. None of the lengthy, heart-felt conversations they had once shared passed between them. His eyes were distant when he spoke to her.

This only confirmed her suspicions.

Salazar Slytherin really was up to something, and it was not good.

Of that she was sure.

The memory faded.

Rowena next found herself amid the bright yellows of Helga's quarters, a sharp contrast to the comparatively cold greens and silvers that Salazar preferred. Helga and Godric were reclined on her bed, cuddled together. For a moment Rowena thought she had stumbled upon a memory she did not want to experience but then realized the two were discussing Salazar in muted terms. She stepped closer, grasping the carved wooden bedpost tightly, straining to hear their whispered conversation.

"I know it was him, Helga. Who else would have built it there?"

"And you actually went down the tunnel? You know that there was something there?"

Godric nodded, tracing circles absentmindedly on the back of her hand with his long fingers. "Nothing but skeletons. But some of them were undoubtedly fresh."

Helga shivered. "What could be down there?"

He frowned. "Can you think of nothing that Salazar would keep?"

There was a long silence. "He would not."

"We never suspected he had built a secret chamber either."

Helga buried her face against his chest. Rowena marveled at their comfortable intimacy. She and Salazar had never been this content with each other. The thought chilled her.

"There's no proof. I won't believe it."

Godric sighed and kissed Helga's bright curls. "Of course he didn't," he said over her head, and she nodded, seemingly content for the time being. But his eyes were haunted. Rowena stared and stared and found herself believing it with him--Salazar had brought something terrible into the school, something only he could control.

A basilisk.

She turned, suddenly overcome with grief. Not now. Not when things were just starting to go right. She could not believe it, and yet, she knew it to be true. Salazar had always despised those who were not pureblood. None of them had thought his hate ran so deep as to kill them, but they had all been deceived. So horribly deceived.

Rowena rested her head against the wall and took a deep breath, steadying herself. Now that she knew it would be easy to rid him from her thoughts. There was little she had that would remind her of him in the long run, and those few things she did were easily disposed of.

It would be purging the beast himself that would be difficult.

How to rid the school of one of its four founders? There would have to be explanations, excuses for his sudden absence...

Godric appeared beside her, face for once a clean mask. She glanced, thinking it to be the memory before she realized there were two Godric's in the room. Rowena stood up and watched his expressions change from indignation to fear to pity. "I wasn't going to tell you until it was necessary," he said gently.

She scowled at him. "Don't."

He paused just as the words were on his lips, looking at her uncertainly. "But...Rowena--"

She held up a hand to stop him from speaking any more. "Life is full of many twists and turns, Godric, and if everyone stopped to dwell on the bad then they would have no joy, and the world would turn to darkness."

With a rush of blue and silver they appeared again in Godric's office. Rowena lost her dinner all over his desk, her stomach churning rapidly at the sudden swirling motion of coming out of the memory. He flicked his wand and cleaned the mess, holding her hair away from her face. It was something Salazar would never have done. A brief pang of sadness wormed its way into her heart, but she closed it off and trapped it there.

She had loved and lost, and never again would she give herself so willingly.

A lesson learned.

Godric stood hesitantly, watching her for more signs of sickness. She turned brusquely towards him. "There is nothing to be done but get him out of here. If there is truly a...a basilisk, then we cannot let it run about the school preying on children. I suggest we confront Salazar immediately."

For a moment Godric could only gape, and then he straightened, pulling on the bottom of his golden coat, eyes flashing. "I'll get Helga."

Rowena nodded. "You do that."

***

Salazar Slytherin was brooding.

"Curse it," he murmured, pushing his way through a crowded hallway. There had been a time when the students scattered at the very sight of him. Now they milled about without a care, wide eyes staring at him as he shoved his way past. Where was the respect? The fervent awe?

"Curse it," he said again, scowling fiercely at a first year who didn't move fast enough. If that child was a part-blood he'd have it dead within the week.

That brought a smile to his face.

Who were they, to tell him that what he was doing was wrong? All Salazar wanted was to rid the school of those unworthy to study with purebloods. And there were quite a few of them. He sneered at the thought. That idiot girl Helga had no qualms about letting in every child with the slightest bit of magical potential.

He turned swiftly at his office, closing the door firmly behind him. Flicking his wrist, the lanterns around the room burst alight, shivering at his cold stare. There was no doubt--he would have to move swiftly if he expected to get anything done before Rowena figured out what he was up to.

He paused. Rowena. For a moment her face filled his mind, surrounded by unruly brown hair.

The thought lasted no longer than that one moment.

He had a job to do, and the second Rowena had the slightest inkling she'd be on him like a basilisk on a mudblood. Smiling at his own irony, Salazar shuffled through the parchments on his desk, wasting time. It would be several hours before he could get to the lavatory and open the chamber.

He timed it perfectly. The trip to the chamber was swift; open, give instructions, close it again. A few well-placed spells ensured no students would wander in while he was working and discover the hole again--that had been an unfortunate mistake that he most certainly learned from. If it hadn't been for that the others would never have found out about it. Salazar did not doubt that they would have suspected him, but that damning piece of evidence had ruined his perfectly laid plans.

No matter. As long as he was careful and revealed nothing else they could not do anything about it.

Unless, of course, they got Rowena on their side, and then that brilliant mind would lead his friends to the inevitable conclusion: a basilisk lurked inside the plumbing of the school, controlled by none other than Salazar Slytherin.

If that happened he had not the slightest idea as to what he would do. With Rowena against him there was little he could do.

And besides, the beast reveled in its roll. Each time Salazar went down to the chamber it was waiting for him, just as it did this time, averting its eyes so as not to harm its master. This, above all else, Salazar enjoyed. He alone controlled this powerful beast! It feared him! What man could ask for more? What woman would stand in his way?

Though it was a pity he could do nothing about the foul smell of its lair. No amount of spells could diminish or mask or even block the rancid scent that emanated from the very walls, clogging Salazar's nostrils.

He stood next to a huge snakeskin, rubbing the clear layer as he watched the thing that shed it creep nearer, its eyes focused on the ceiling. But despite its careful efforts to keep its gaze away, Salazar was no fool. He, too, kept his gaze diverted.

"It is time once again," he said, using the language that only he could speak.

The snake hissed in reply, forked tongue flicking into the air, tasting.

"You know your instructions; they have not changed. Do not fail me."

"No. Blood. I sssmell blood."

Salazar smiled. "It is yours."

Its tongue appeared again, this time a more frenzied motion than before.

"Go."

It made to slither past him, but Salazar stood in the way. The basilisk hissed impatiently at him.

"Kill this time," Salazar whispered. For a moment the snakes eyes wavered, and he thought of its loyalty.

He had hatched this one himself. Salazar stumbled across the knowledge of how to create the monster several years prior, during the period when the castle was still under construction. Acquiring the chicken egg and toad had been nothing--such things were easily bought at local shops. It was hiding it from the others that had created the difficulty, but even that he had managed.

And now, his plan was finally set in motion. Salazar stood before his creation and smiled.

The basilisk smiled back.

***

Godric and Helga swept into the library together, a clash of gold, scarlet, yellow, and black. A lingering student spooked at the sight of them, shrieking that she hadn't meant to steal. But so intent on their goal were the two that they did not even notice the young girl, and she slipped away in the shadows.

"What exactly should we look for?" Helga asked sharply, running her fingers along the bindings of several books, searching for something relevant.

Godric frowned, doing the same on the opposite shelf. "The best thing would be to kill it and seal the chamber as well, though if it's invincible just closing off the space will have to be enough."

There was a pause while they both continued glancing swiftly at random titles, frantically trying to find anything that would help. After a moment of this Helga muttered something to herself about "beasts" and swept off to another section of the library.

Godric stared after her, wishing she'd taken his sword. He'd taken to carrying the weapon with him ever since the first attack. The jeweled pommel was cool to the touch as he traced his fingers over it absentmindedly. He wondered idly if he'd have to use it in the near future and hoped fervently he did not.

What scared him most was that if it came to that, if it came to a fight...Would he use it on the beast itself, or the monster that created it?