Shades of Grey

Chapter Four: Stone

By Gemini

Up the lurid passes of dreams that kill,
Through the twisting maze of the great Untrue,
The lion followeth the fainting will --
And the Lamb -- He followeth too.

An excerpt from “The Hunters”, by Ruth Temple Lindsay

~ * ~

956 A.D.

The last Founder has arrived bringing with him the beginning of a new age. He completed the set of the four strongest witches and wizards to ever live.

This one was not born in a glittering glen, a dark fen, or an icy valley. This one was born in the wild moors of England where the wolves roamed, where the Golden Snitch flew, and where the young mischief-makers played.

There was one in particular, and his name was Gavin. Gavin was about to become a brother. He listened to his mother, Madeleine, scream in the pain of labour.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about this birthing: no complications, no deaths involved, nothing. It was normal, and Madeleine gave birth to a healthy child.

Or so it seemed to the untrained eye. After the baby was born, Madeleine knew there was something significant about this birth. She had birthed other children before, but they all died at young ages from sickness and under nourishment. Gavin was the only one who survived, and he was now a seven-year-old boy who demanded constant attention and care.

He was a typical little boy. He played with slugs and snakes, pretended he was king's soldier, and jumped off little cliffs hoping that one day he would fly instead of falling on his face. Having another sibling meant that soon, Gavin would be able to pass on these traditions, and he desperately hoped it would be a boy. A girl wouldn't be any fun at all.

He was pleased beyond anything that he would become a brother. He couldn't wait to see the baby. He and his father would talk for hours about what they would do once the baby arrived, what they would do if it was a boy, and what they would do if it was a girl. They were planning to act pleased to Madeleine, but secretly fume behind her back.

During the birth, Gavin's father, Andrew, sat by Madeleine's side and offered his hand for her to squeeze. She did so, hard. Gavin looked on in bemusement. Why was his mother hurting so much? Giving birth shouldn't be that hard.

He was bored now. He needed something fun to happen. “Mum, what are you doing?” She ignored him, screaming with another gasp of pain.

“Gavin, your mother is a bit busy right now -- ahh!” Madeleine had clenched Andrew's hand in a deathly grip.

Gavin decided that his parents weren't being interesting enough, so he wandered off into the night to see what he could find to entertain himself. The frog spawn he had found yesterday hadn't quite been poked to his satisfaction. He had left a few hours ago, and now his father was calling him back.

“Gavin!” Andrew called. Gavin ignored him. His parents usually liked to make sure he was safe, but he was now, so what was the point of answering?

“Gavin, come see your new brother!” A brother?

So his wish came true after all. Gavin turned and ran home.

* * *

“...of the Ravenclaw.”

Eagles shimmered in a grey sky that he knew was supposed to be blue. Circling and crying out, they spiralled toward the ground in a clumsy dance, never to fly again. And with them, a body fell.

Grey eyes bore down on him in a feeling of regret and pain. “This wasn't supposed to happen, you know. I meant to stop it, but I couldn't.” They turned accusatory. “You were supposed to help me. You didn't.”

And then there was her, the woman who haunted all his dreams. Her black hair swirled in a silky darkness, without light to guide him. But he knew she was there. He shivered as she moved away, growing so cold he felt as if he would freeze to death.

It was never supposed to be like this.


* * *

964 A.D. (Eight Years Later...)

“Godric, that's pathetic. I can throw mine further than that, watch.” Gavin dug around in the rocky beach to look for a small flat stone that suited his need. He finally found one, hefted it up, and with clear skill that came from sheer practise, pitched it into the calm sea. It leapt in, light as a feather across the water.

“See? Eight times, and you could only get five,” Gavin smirked.

Godric frowned, and searched for another flat stone. He concentrated, then threw it into the water. “Six times,” he said proudly.

“You're getting better.” Gavin put a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes. “One day, you might even beat me. But not yet.” He picked up another stone and threw it, but it promptly sank as it hit the water.

Godric laughed at his older brother. Though there was a considerable age distance -- Godric was a small child while Gavin was growing into manhood -- they still got along well.

“Let's head back, Gavin,” said Godric. “Mam might be worried about us.”

“Who cares about Mam? We're having fun; don't you want to stay?”

Godric was torn between staying with Gavin or watching his mother berate them for straying too far. In one hand, you could throw rocks into the water, and in the other hand, you could face an angry woman. The image of an angry mother could bring fear to any man's heart.

“Let's stay.”

“Good choice.” They sat by the sea as long as they could, waiting idly for the sun to go down before returning home. Godric copied Gavin's position and laid down on his back, wincing as rocks jabbed his body.

“Gavin, do you really think people live in the clouds?”

“Who told you that?”

“Pa did. He said anyone who was good could go live in the clouds.”

“Why would he tell you a thing like that?”

“He said that that's what some non-magicals believe.”

“That's shite, Godric, especially if the non-magicals believe it.”

“I think it sounds fun.”

“Living in the clouds sounds like fun?”

“Why not?”

“What if it rains?”

There was a quiet that settled in as Godric searched for an answer, but he was interrupted before he could find one.

“Godric! Gavin! Come here!” One of the village boys stood at the top of the hill, waving to them.

“Go away, William,” yelled Gavin. “Or come over here, because we're not getting up!” Typical children.

“No, come here,” William cried again. “There's a man here, and he's hurt.”

Gavin's interest peaked, and he pulled himself to his feet. “Who is he?”

“How am I supposed to know? I think he's a wizard though.”

Godric stood as well, brushing dirt off his trousers, then jogged to catch up with Gavin.

William waited impatiently as they walked over to him. He was about the same age that Gavin was, perhaps a year or two younger. He was one of the quiet types, never really engaging in any of the other boys' games. He stood and watched from the side, enjoying the happiness of others. The words he chose for conversation were carefully thought over and recited, and he always seemed to be in deep thought.

“Where is he?” asked Gavin, taking the lead.

“Just down here,” answered William. “There were some regular boys and then this wizard came, so they stoned him. I don't know why he would dress so obviously as a wizard out here. It's dangerous.” William gestured to his own clothing, and that of Gavin and Godric. They were dressed similarly to what non-magicals wore.

They descended the hillside and Godric saw the blue-robed man laying on the ground, face-down. The three boys approached cautiously, with Godric trailing. What if he was dangerous? What if he was only pretending to be hurt? What if...

William knelt by the wizard, who didn't move or make a sound.

“Let's flip him over,” said Gavin. He and William pulled on the wizard's robes and turned him over, revealing a face streaked with dried blood, and a cut lip. His eyes were closed and his body was a dead weight. William put his hand by the wizard's nose.

”He's breathing,” he announced. “But just slightly.”

Gavin sighed loudly, then bent down the yell in the wizard's ear. “Helloooo?”

“Gavin, what are you doing?” asked William, horrified.

“Waking him up,” he replied crossly. Whatever he was doing, it worked, because the wizard moaned softly and moved his head.

“What...” He tried to open his eyes, but the dried blood that encrusted his lids prevented him from seeing into the world completely.

“Are you alright, sir?” asked William politely.

“Does he look like he's alright?”

“You were hit by stones, sir, and were knocked out. Do you know where you are?”

“Yes, yes, I'm fine.” The wizard tried to stand up, but could not without the help of the two boys. Godric stood to the side, silent and watching, but a little afraid.

After much pushing and prodding, Gavin and William managed to bring the wizard, who was half-unconsciously walking, back to their small village. They attracted many stares and comments whispered behind hands, but ignored them as they dragged the wizard into the small abode of Godric and Gavin.

“Who the bloody hell is that?” Andrew stood up from tending to the fire as an unconscious man was dragged into his home.

“We found him near the sea,” replied Gavin. Andrew quickly went to help the two older boys pull him onto the family's bed. It was small even for the four of them, but still provided at least some comfort.

Godric went to where his mother stood. Madeleine drew him close and put her arm around him as she questioned the boys. “Is he alright now? How was he hurt? What happened?”

Gavin explained the situation to his parents with William contributing a comment here and there when Gavin was stumped for information. “I woke him up for a bit,” said Gavin, “but he just fell back asleep.”

Wasting no time, Madeleine wet a cloth and began to wipe the blood off the wizard's face with a gentle mother's touch. With a swiftness upon which her sons and husband could barely keep up with, she cleaned his wounds and applied a salve to them. With the warm dampness of the cloth, it wasn't long before he woke up.

“Who are you...?” he mumbled softly.

“We are the Gryffindor family,” Madeleine whispered softly. Andrew and the rest of the boys stood to crowd around behind her as they watched the wizard open his eyes. William's hazel eyes lit up as the man he helped rescue awoke.

“Can you tell us who you are?” asked Madeleine.

The wizard moaned slightly, shifting in the bed as well as he could without hurting his aching joints.

“My name is Hugh,” he replied after a short pause. “Hugh of the Ravenclaw.”

Ravenclaw. Where had he heard that name before?

* * *

“Please,” she whispered. “Please help. I don't know what to do. I don't know where to go. Can't you help me?” She wore tattered blue robes, though they only seemed grey to him. There were no colours when he dreamed. Only grey.

“I... I can't,” he stuttered. “I've made plans already. Sorry.”

“No,” she cried. “Please, help me.” She threw herself upon him, beating at him with her fists.

“I can't.”

“Please,” she sobbed. “Please... It was never supposed to be like this.”

* * *

976 A.D. (Twelve Years Later...)

“Godric, get in here,” yelled Madeleine.

Godric had been playing in the dirt road with the small boys of the sleepy countryside village, entertaining them with tricks and games. He waved to the children who already began disperse, and jogged back to his home where Madeleine stood waiting at the door.

“You've just received a letter,” she told him, handing him a small, rolled up parchment. “An owl came in just now.”

She went back inside, probably to finished her cooking or sewing or whatever she did during the day.

Godric broke the seal, noting the messy reddish-brown wax, obviously not stamped with care. He began to read.

Godric,

Found out some interesting news today. One of the Nædrehus people came down to my home today; his name was Salazar. He told me about an upcoming raid on the village. I need to speak with you as soon as possible, but I will not say more here. Meet me tonight, after your family goes to sleep. You know where.

--William

Godric re-rolled the parchment, a frown marring his round face. He stuffed it into one of his pockets and pushed the door open to his home, revealing smells of freshly baked bread. It was late afternoon, and sundown would be approaching soon.

William had mentioned a raid. A wizarding raid? Those never ended well.

* * *

“William, is that you?” Godric stumbled in the murky darkness until he saw a shadowy shape that he assumed to be his friend.

“It's me.” William faced the sea, letting the cold breeze sift through his hair. Godric went to stand beside him, and breathed the salty air in deeply.

Nothing compared to seeing the ocean at night in the moonlight. Milky white light bounced off the waves as they crashed into each other, and the sea stretched endlessly into the starry horizon.

As much as Godric liked it here at night, he came alone as little as possible. He could easily be attacked by roaming non-magicals. Accidents could happen, especially in the night when your senses were clouded and the moon played tricks on your mind.

“You mentioned something about raid?” asked Godric, breaking the still silence. William nodded, the light of the moon making him seem mystical.

“A Viking family has decided to come for a 'visit',” informed William. “And they and the people of Nædrehus are going to do their plundering here in our village.”

Godric absorbed the news with a hint of fear. “And what are we to do about it?”

“Sit back and watch, I suppose,” William sighed. Then he looked harshly at Godric. “You won't be joining them, will you? That's the wrong thing to do; you know that.”

Godric shook his head. “You know I wouldn't join them. I can't.”

“You are able, if you actually wanted to.”

Godric kept silent, and prayed the matter wouldn't be spoken about any further.

“We'll have to relocate, you know,” stated William. “And I have a son and wife to take care of.”

“Where will you be going?”

“I'll make sure they're out of the village when the raid happens. Perhaps we'll go to the next town over. You should probably go to the next wizarding village; it will be safer there.”

“I think I will,” agreed Godric. But thoughts of wizarding wars danced about in his head.

“Godric...” William hesitated, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to say what came next. “I might need you to help me with moving the village wizards. A lot of them don't want to join, and they're all tired of moving from town to town. We can't afford to stay in one place, and wizarding villages aren't all they're cut up to be. We don't have the proper skills to be farmers like the non-magicals are.”

“And what do you need help with?”

Taking a deep breath, William answered. “There's a movement being organized and put together against the raiders as we speak. The leaders are grouping, and they want wizards and non-magicals to live in peace. It's possible.”

“A movement? Against the raiders? But... that's suicide!”

“It's not suicide,” replied William harshly. “Not if they don't know who the leaders are, and not if we keep our activities quiet. We're not a violent movement. We're just going to help the wizard villagers, and keep the non-magicals as safe as we can.” He stared at the sea sadly. “They don't deserve this treatment. No one does.”

Godric stood in a silent stupor. What was he supposed to do now? If he joined William, he knew he would get caught eventually. The rich wizards were smart; they would figure it out sooner or later. If he didn't join William, he would betray a friend...

“Don't think you have to come with me,” said William, interrupting Godric's thoughts. “It will be dangerous. And I can't tell you more unless you commit. We can't give away too much information, you know.”

You've given away too much already. I don't want to know any of this.

“It's alright,” lied Godric. “I... I'll think about.” He paused, then followed with, “If Gavin were here...”

“Gavin isn't here,” said William harshly. Then his face softened. “If Gavin were here, he'd know what to do.”

Gavin had gone away, to fight the wars he had always wanted to fight. He was a part of the wizards' forces now, fighting in not-so-civil wars. Godric recalled that Gavin had always dreamed of going off to do good, to fight evil, to be a hero... And Godric wanted to go with him, but he couldn't. He had always been too scared.

* * *

“You did promise. Didn't you tell them that you would help? And look where it's gotten the both of us.” The grey eyes glared at him, almost threateningly. “And you were supposed to help me too.”

As the man walked closer and closer, he spoke softly. “Just because you're the youngest doesn't mean you're any more special than you should be. I'm not going to pamper you, and I'm not going to give you any sort of special honour. You deserve it just as much as the rest of us, which is not at all.”

But the grey eyes grew sad, and cast themselves down to look at the grass about their feet. “It wasn't my fault. Why can't you realize that? Why won't you help me? It was never supposed to be like this.”

* * *

(One Week Later...)

So it came down to this after all.

Godric's parents had already packed up the little belongings they had and began their short move to the next wizarding village. William, of course, had stayed.

Godric stayed too, but for the wrong reasons. It wasn't to help William, or take part in the raid. It was because he didn't want to go anywhere. He was perfectly happy being rooted in his place of birth. He wanted to spend as much time here as possible before he was forced to leave. In a way, he found himself almost hating the other wizards for making him do this, but it couldn't be helped. This was one war that he could not interfere with. He didn't have the power to.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to find himself facing William.

“Are you ready?” he asked tersely. Godric nodded. “Let's go then.”

Taking one last look at the home he was leaving behind, Godric felt a nostalgic saddening as he stepped over the threshold.

“They've already started,” said William. “They're coming into the village now.”

If Godric concentrated, he could hear screams from the far end of the little town. They had just begun.

“Quick, this way!” He followed William into a little alleyway, where a small group of non-magicals and wizards were huddled close together.

They gathered in a little circle, and as Godric looked at the faces around him, he saw that most of them seemed frightened.

“You all know what to do,” began William. “Take as many non-magicals as you can, and don't risk yourselves. We can't have them finding out what we're doing.”

As Godric watched William direct the other non-magicals, he couldn't help but realize that he was almost reminded of Gavin. Ever since Gavin had gone away, William and Godric had grown closer, with William filling part of the void that Gavin had left behind.

In any case, Godric was glad for some friendship. Without William, he wasn't sure if he could have handled the dreams that haunted him so often. His mind would hurt after each one, and he found himself slowly retreating to his subconscious unless someone pulled him out.

The dreams were sometimes the same and sometimes vastly different, but they always involved the same people. A flaxen-haired woman, a grey-eyed man, and a dark-haired girl who captured his entire attention each time were the focus of his dreams, but sometimes there were others. They were always dark and misty; Godric never really felt safe in them. Something always nagged at the back of his mind.

“Are you all ready?” Godric nodded along with the rest. “Let's move out then.”

They split up, going in different directions. Godric tagged along with William, who pulled a wand out of his robe pocket.

“Where did you get that?” ask Godric dubiously.

“I've always had it,” came the taut reply.

“Well I've never seen it before.”

“I thought I'd need it for today,” said William. “So I got it a little while ago when I was preparing.”

“Where did you get it from? Ollivanders is so far away, and so expensive.”

William did not answer.

They walked out of the alleyway in silence, looking this way and that to make sure there were no wizard followers.

This was something new to Godric. He had never done anything quite this stealthy, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He began to find himself wishing he had gone with his family instead of staying with William.

Godric glanced back into the alleyway, but the others had already gone. He was actually surprised that they would work so well with wizards like he and William, and the others who were just present. These were the ones who wanted to live in peace, something Godric admired greatly but could never hope to achieve.

The screams grew louder, and were coming closer to the centre of the village. Already, some of the non-magicals in the village were running toward them, uncaring of who William and Godric were. They just wanted to run away.

“This way,” said William softly, gesturing to a little cottage house. When they pushed open the door, the few who were inside cowered against the back wall, clearly expecting the raiding wizards.

“It's alright, we won't hurt you,” said William. Godric stood in the background, waiting. “We're here to help. There are a group of non-magicals and wizards gathering all the villagers we can to keep them safe.”

There was just something about him, Godric noted as the non-magicals came forward slowly. William attracted the trust and loyalty of all.

The small company left the home and stole away to the edge of the village to where some of the non-magicals from the earlier group were waiting.

This went on for awhile as the raiding wizards were busy in another part of town. Back and forth they went, taking the few non-magicals they could.

Ashes and smoke rose in the air, coming closer and closer as Godric and William saved all they could, which wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

Finally, they were all gathered at the edge of the village as the raiders were in the centre, burning all they could and capturing those who were left.

“Alright, get them to the next village over,” ordered William. “Expect me there in a few days, otherwise I'll send an owl with a message.”

The little group of wizards and non-magicals made their way quickly down the valley, heading for the village that lay a few miles toward the south.

Godric and William stood to watch them go, taking care to leave as little tracks as they could. If anyone found out what they had done... They would be in trouble.

“Hey, you two! What are you doing?”

The two of them froze and didn't turn around. The raiding wizards had finally found them.

“Who are you?”

“Run!” cried William, and sprinted off. Godric rushed to keep up. They descended into the valley as the other wizard took off after them, and he was joined by one or two others judging from the sound of their footsteps.

The two of them ran fast, making a break for the forests that covered the eastern plain. “Don't let them catch us!”

They ran through the woods, dodging low branches and underbrush. Godric could only hear his heavy breath mingled with William's, and the scratchy sounds of the trees and leaves and they rushed past. He heart pounded in his ears as he ran faster and faster, never daring to look back.

How did I get dragged into this?

Godric's thoughts mingled together to concentrate on getting away as he followed William, who weaved lithely through the forest.

They ran until they were exhausted, and then they ran some more. William finally slowed down and came to a stop, putting a hand on a tree and leaned over, panting tiredly. Godric did the same, and finally was able to look behind them and watch for any followers. His eyes searched the spaces in the trees, but nothing looked out of place.

“I think we're alright,” said William, gasping for breath.

They collapsed to the ground, backs against trees, and stared into the wilderness. A smoky stench from the burning village permeated the air, and dark wisps of smoke could be seen through the trees. They were on the edge of the forest and could see across the little valley on the outside across which the raiders trekked.

The leaves rustled.

“What was that?” Godric sat up in a panicked state, ready for any attackers.

“Shh, quiet!” William held out a hand to still Godric, and listened with his head tilted.

Someone was running toward them on the edge of the woods.

Together, the two wizards slowly stood and walked stealthily toward the forest's edge and peeked out. The sun was setting and it was hard to see, but a faint shape was running toward them, fast.

“Get ready,” whispered William.

Godric tensed, wishing he were anywhere but here.

The figure came closer, closer...

...

“I told you not to follow me,” she hissed. They stood in the woods, bathed in the silvery moonlight. “It's dangerous out here. Don't get over your cowardly ways by getting yourself killed.”

Cries of battle sounded out around them as they stood in an ethereal silence.

“I must go,” she said, swiftly turning.

“No wait!” he cried, taking a step forward. “Let me come too.”

She paused, not turning back. “You wouldn't understand how to fix it. You would never understand how it even works. It was never supposed to be like this.”

And she walked on as he watched her.

...

Godric froze. “Now!” roared William, and jumped onto the running silhouette.

There was a short struggle, but a cry echoed in the dusk a moment later.

“Avrakedavra!” A jet of brilliant green light, and William had fallen. Godric's eyes widened in the darkness, and he quickly moved behind a tree, not daring to breathe. He peeked out cautiously, and saw a hat on the figure. It was a wizard's hat. But how could...?

“No!” It was a feminine voice, anguished and tortured. “No, no, no...” Whoever it was knelt down over William, almost collapsing over his body. Godric was torn between hiding still and protecting his friend. However, whatever he would come to decide was not known, because the woman pulled out a wand and recited a spell before he could move.

If she had a wand, she must not have come from the village. No one had wands there; they had not the money to pay for it.

“Spirivo!” A white ball of light came out the end of her wand and hovered over William, glowing lightly. He was still alive.

Godric heard a heavy sigh of relief, and then a ragged cry. He came out from behind the tree to approach her, though what he would do or say, he didn't know. But the woman pushed herself away from the ground and began to run, tearing the hat off her head and throwing it behind her. It hit Godric in the face as he backed into a tree with a thump.

He pulled it away, sputtering, but the woman was too far gone now. He looked at the hat, and stuck it on his own head. Might as well.

Kneeling over William, he shook the limp man gently. He shouldn't have been too hurt. The Avrakedavra spell simply knocked out the victims for a short time.

William moaned softly, moving his head to the side. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes.

“Godric?” he whispered. “What happened?”

“She attacked you,” Godric replied wryly, relieved in knowing that his friend was safe now. “You jumped on her, and she attacked you.”

“She?”

“Yes, it was a woman. I couldn't see her though. She ran away too fast.”

William furrowed his eyebrows. “What's that?” Godric looked to where William pointed.

“Oh. It's a hat.”

“Where'd you get it?”

“The woman... threw it at me.”

William nodded, though Godric doubted he understood. His eyes were still slightly glazed, and he needed Godric's help to stand.

“I'm fine,” he protested. Godric let go of his friend's arm gently as William teetered on the brink of falling. Then he kept still. “See? I'm fine.”

“What are we going to do now?” asked Godric. The sun had already sunk below the horizon and it was dark in the forest, silent save for the occasional rustle and hoot of owls.

“Let's split up,” said William, massaging his temples. “I'm going to go back to the village and markets and find my wife and son. You go to Nædrehus.”

“Nædrehus? You want me to go there? Why?” Godric obviously wanted to go anywhere but Nædrehus.”

“Well we can't just go back to the village together. We need someone to go see what the other wizards are up to. They can't just be left alone.”

“Aren't there any others you recruited for this so-called mission?”

“Well, of course there are, but you're the only one here, aren't you? Now, head toward Nædrehus, and I'll go back to the village. I'll come up there myself later, don't worry.”

William turned and began walking toward the village where smoke rose from the little valley. Godric watched as he went, then finally turned around and headed in the direction where the woman had gone.

Godric had never been to Nædrehus, and to be honest with himself, he didn't want to go. The wizards there were different, wealthy and pretentious. Then again, it wasn't that Godric did not like them. He just felt that he never really fitted in. His life was on the moors, walking from place to place, not in castles among the rich.

Yet, as he neared the stone castle, he felt himself wondering what it would be like to live there. Would be grand and important? Or would he miss the wildness of nature? Not that he loved the wildness of nature. Storms were never that fun if you lived in a dank cottage with only a small fire to help.

Approaching the castle, he found himself wishing for a wand. He had never had one and he had never really needed one, but all the same it would have made him feel safer.

Godric went up through the archways and found his path inside blocked by two guards. They moved aside, letting him pass. His new hat was a giveaway for magical bloodline. But when he really thought about, anyone could just pick up a hat and waltz in. Then again, the non-magicals probably wouldn't dare go too near anything made by wizarding hands.

There were various wizards milling about the great hall, dimly lit in the eerie candlelight. Many of them seemed to be moving in a general direction, so Godric followed. He walked slowly, taking in the high ceilings and dark décor. Splashes of colours would decorate the hall here and there, but everything had been dulled by the night. It was warm inside, thanks to magic, but Godric wasn't so sure he would want to live here. There was much room, yet he felt so closed in.

He began to become distracted by all the riches that lay out before him in the hall, and he soon found himself wandering away from the crowd. He noticed the hall had become quiet, empty of people except for him. Almost empty.

“Are you lost?”

Godric turned quickly to face a woman slightly older than him, wearing robes of white. She was accompanied by a tall wizard who looked very much like he was in a hurry.

“It's a large castle,” she continued on breezily, “too large to care for.”

“That it is,” agreed Godric. “I was just following the rest of them, and I seem to have lost my way.”

“Go back that way,” said the tall wizard, “and turn left. You should be able to find your way from there.”

“Now, David, that's not the proper way to treat guests,” scolded the witch. David rolled his eyes.

“I am Aline,” she introduced herself. She held out a hand, which Godric bent to kiss. “This is David. We are cousins of the Slytherin household. And you are?”

“Godric,” he replied clumsily. For good measure, he decided to add, “Of the Gryffindor family.”

Aline began to walk to where David had pointed. “We'll show you the way back; we're headed in that direction ourselves.”

“You're going to the feast then?” asked Godric, as he and David followed.

“Later.” She hesitated. “We have other matters to attend to first.”

Aline led them back to the main hall. Godric watched her straight brown hair swayed from side to side while he walked behind her. She was polite, yet so cold. Her voice was different than the ones held by the village girls. It dripped with disdain, yet care. She was a strange one.

“Perhaps we'll see you later at the feast,” said Aline.

Godric nodded.

“Goodbye then,” said David, and began to quickly walk in the opposite direction, grabbing Aline's arm and taking her with him. Godric watched as she shook his hand off her arm and frowned at him, regaining her composure and leading the way once more.

The witches and wizards headed toward a large set of doors where sounds of music and merrymaking drifted into the hall. Trying to look discreet, Godric passed the doors and entered the party.

Wizards and witches, dressed in all sorts of colours, danced and mingled amongst themselves. Godric overheard snatches of conversations as he slowly and hesitantly walked through the crowd.

“...Was simply horrid. I couldn't see a thing through all the smoke...”

“Fantastic. Non-magicals running everywhere, and --“

“Enchanted to finally meet your acquaintance...”

“...Leave the young ones to talk...”

He casually picked an apple off one of the long tables and bit into it as he watched the others talk with one another. Feeling a little bit out of the loop, he tried to make himself as little noticed as possible.

“Hello?”

Godric whirled around to find himself being faced by two young women.

“You don't seem familiar,” said the first one, walking behind him as the other moved closer. “Are you from around here?”

“I'm from down in the village, actually,” he began, turning slowly as the girls circled him like vultures. This was the last thing he need now.

“The village? The one we raided?” The girls laughed, and Godric couldn't help but think it was directed at him. It might have been.

“Yes, that one,” he replied coldly, wishing they would go away. They giggled as Godric searched for a way out.

That was when he saw her.

She stood in the opposite corner of the room, as dancers passed back and forth so she disappeared from his sight in flashes.

“Excuse me,” Godric mumbled to the girls as they frowned at him. Losing interest quickly, they went to find a new victim. Godric set the unfinished apple on the table and stepped forward slowly.

She was dancing now, with another man. With a start of realization, Godric saw that it was the grey-eyed man. The sandy hair, the splash of freckles -- Godric had always seen them as grey, but no matter what colour, he would have known it was the man anywhere. There they were: two of his dreams come to living flesh. And where was the third?

The man grinned cheekily at the woman, who blushed lightly and ducked her head. He led her near the middle of the room, lightly put a hand on the small of her back and drew her into the dancing fray.

She wore robes of pale yellow over a white dress, and looked like an unearthly being. Her dark hair flowed as she stepped in time with the man, switching partners and going back and forth, but always, always keeping her eye on the same person.

The man himself was dressed in a green cloak, and Godric could tell they were of rich descent. He felt more out of place than ever now, feeling the weight of his poor clothing and the random hat that he was thrown.

Godric didn't want to watch them anymore. His dreams weren't supposed to collide with life. His visions had never become real. And the woman was supposed to love him, not this other man who so often became a nightmare.

Steeped in depression, Godric made his way to a table and sat down heavily on the wooden bench. There, he found spare mugs set on the tabletop, and thankfully filled one of them with ale from a barrel set on the ground. He gulped it down almost as fast as the dancers were laughing and twirling around him.

He sat with his back facing the crowd, not wanting to catch another glimpse of the couple.

...

“I can't find you,” he called. His voice bounced off the eerie darkness and echoed in the silence.

“It's alright,” she whispered. “I'm here. I'm waiting. I'll see you soon.”

“The others are here,” he told her.

“Just wait a little longer. I'm coming soon.”

...

“Taking a break from the feast, are we?”

Godric lifted his head from the table, where he found he had dropped into his dreams again. His blinked as his eyes readjusted to the light created by candles and fires. Looking up, he found himself staring into a pair of grey eyes.

“Mind if we join you?” The man grinned and swung a leg over one of the benches to sit down. “I think Helga's getting a bit tired out.”

So the angel did have a name after all.

“Helga,” said Godric, trying out the name as he nodded slightly to her.

The woman dipped her head lightly and looked at him, searching his face.

“I'm Salazar,” said the man, introducing himself. “I live here, actually. I'm from the Slytherin family. Helga's from the North, the Hufflepuff Clan. And you are?”

Still reeling from the sheer impossibility of sitting with his living dreams, he replied in a faint voice. “Godric. I'm from the Gryffindor family.”

“Gryffindor?” Salazar frowned. “I've never heard of them. Whereabouts are you from?”

“Oh... Just around here.”

Salazar shrugged. “Helga, sit down. Wouldn't you like some rest?”

“Maybe just a little bit.” Her soft voice spoke in an articulate manner, and she seemed so stiff. She sat by Salazar, pulling her yellow robes around her tighter.

“Most of the people aren't young like we are,” continued Salazar, taking the head of the conversation easily. “And some of those who are just want to have a good time.”

Godric thought about the two giggling girls he had come across, and found himself nodding at Salazar's comment.

“You looked to be a decent man,” sighed Salazar. “And we were in need of some young blood. Who wants to dance and chat idly among those of our parents' friends?”

Neither Helga nor Godric answered. Salazar shrugged and grabbed two mugs off the table. Filling them with ale, he handed one to Helga and kept one for himself.

Godric found himself sneaking glances over to Helga, who sat on the other side of Salazar. The two of them didn't seem too close, but he still felt something between them.

Helga turned her head, and caught Godric as he stared at her. She smiled faintly, then turned back toward the crowd. Salazar bent his head closer to hers and pointed to some people in the fray, whispering little comments to her.

Following Salazar's line of sight, Godric found himself looking at two older wizards, much older than he was. Looking closely, he could see traces and semblances of Helga and Salazar in the two men. They must have been their fathers.

Looking back to the man and woman by his side, he realized they were laughing and joking quietly together, excluding him from whatever it was that they found so funny. He tried to look like he fit in, but felt so out of place.

Godric sat quietly, resting his back against the hard wooden table, keeping his thoughts to himself.

It was never supposed to be like this.