Hogwarts: A History

HOGWARTS: A HISTORY

(Winter)

They could have been friends, allies, lovers: they could have been anything and anyone to one to one another, or nothing. They were born in a certain time, a certain place, and they were born certain people and because of that they were enemies.

Once there was a young Muggleborn with a gift for prophecy and a gift of charisma and Salazar Slytherin rode out of the night and knelt at his feet and pledged him love and loyalty and service. And Godric Gryffindor spat in his face and sent him on his way.

And once there was a wizard so powerful he was capable of stopping time itself, and he served a king both wise and fair, until they both were betrayed and the wizard lost his head and the king lost his throne.

And once Salazar Slytherin was the greatest general of all the legions and he led his army into Britain and took Godric Gryffindor prisoner and made him his slave.

And once, and once, and once.

But this is not an epic, and this is not a fairy tale, this is the story of the Founders, as it was told to me by my father, and his father before him and back to my great-great grandmother Rowena Ravenclaw.

My father used to say that the story began with a kiss, and perhaps his father began it with blood, and his father's mother with a sword, and only Merlin remembers how old Rowena began it. But I am an historian, and objectivity is my very life's work. And so I say--let it begin with snow.

Snow, falling thick and fast on a forest at night, a forest that is not yet Forbidden. Snow, drifting slowly through the heavy branches of trees six centuries old, to land at last on earth so far below that the sun seldom reaches. Yes, let this story begin with snow, with something that is by nature cold and beautiful and unforgiving and pure and nurturing. Pure as the driven snow and blanketed by it.

So, this night of snow, a night when sensible men and beasts have found shelter and are safe. A night when only the reckless and the desperate are out of doors, when the most dangerous of hunters have come out to play.

"You're a fool, Salazar," said the most reckless of all, to the most desperate. He said it, though, with a laugh, and if the other man did not smile back at least there was no anger between them.

"Not a fool, Godric," Salazar replied. "Never that. Call me anything else--call me a madman, if you must--but, I bespell you, not a fool."

Godric Gryffindor grinned, aware that the shadows and the folds of his dark cloak concealed his expression. No one laughed at Salazar Slytherin. "Not mad, Cousin, no. Merely intemperate. It grows cold, and late, and I cannot imagine that what you hoped would come to pass could still come true. There will be other nights for this." Beneath him his horse stamped and tossed his head, as if it agreed, but the spell on its bit held and there was no sound.

"There will not be other nights like this one," Salazar said in answer. "You can read the stars as well as I--." His gray mare threw up her head and let out a piercing whinny in greeting. "You see?" and the voice was only the littlest bit malicious. "I think that sometimes you lack imagination--Cousin."

Both men watched as the beast came out of the shadowy forest. It was beautiful, though not in the story book way; it seemed as much a large cat as a small horse. It was a legendary creature, of almost unfathomable power, and it had come in answer to Salazar's call. Without hesitation he slid down from his horse and knelt before the unicorn, and after a moment Godric did the same.

"You called me, wizard-child?" and though the unicorn had stopped and stood motionless before them its voice rang in their heads like a bell.

"I called you," Salazar answered.

"And you know the price?"

"I know the price and am willing to pay it." Beside him the other man shifted as if to protest, but this was no more than they had agreed on and so Salazar ignored him.

"Then you must catch me." And before Godric and Salazar had risen from the cold wet snow the unicorn was gone.

All that night Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin hunted a quarry that did not tire through a wood that was itself their enemy while around them the snow fell and fell and fell. By dawn they were exhausted, and their horses close to foundering. "We can't go on," Salazar shouted, reining in his gray so abruptly that Godric overrode him.

"That's it?" Godric demanded. "All your brave bright words, and you give up the moment you tire?"

For once, though, Salazar refused to rise to his taunt. "What price common sense when you have courage to spare? By the wand, Godric, do you really think we have a chance? We've not seen any sign of the beast since moonrise, and maybe longer. We were fools to think we could hunt a unicorn with swords and a crossbow."

"Oh, and what weapon is suitable to use to catch a unicorn?"

"Perhaps humility?" asked the bell-voice thoughtfully. The unicorn stood beside them, just out of reach. It looked as fresh as it had at first sight, its white coat unmarred and perfectly dry. There was no melted snow in its mane, in its lion's tail, in the thick hair round its fetlocks. "Sometimes victory comes only through surrender, an idea you both might do well to consider."

"Very well." For the first time since their hunt had begun Salazar unsheathed his sword. "I surrender. Will you take my blade?"

"You know that I will," the unicorn answered, watching them out of proud ancient eyes. This was what they had wanted and yet Godric knew he would not have been able to go through with it, had it been him. He almost stopped it, even knowing how important their quest was, even knowing that Salazar would surely slay him where he stood. They had hunted together before, but where the chase drew Godric, it was the kill that his cousin loved. He would be proud of this, of killing an animal most men never even glimpsed except in dreams.

Salazar rode forward and thrust the sword into the unicorn's chest. The great wound began to bleed almost immediately and the blood was silver against the white of the snow.

"A mortal wound, wizard-child. Well done. What is it you would have of me besides my death?"

To Godric the unicorn's words seemed to diminish Salazar. It might have been fear, exhaustion, despair, but suddenly his cousin looked smaller and younger atop the big gray warhorse. "You know what I want," Salazar told it, and his voice cracked for the first time in a year. "Don't you? I want to keep the wizarding world safe. Forever."

"Very well," the unicorn responded. "This is how you will do it." Godric could not hear what it said next, but it didn't matter, it only mattered that they could be saved. He had been afraid, right up until the end, that Salazar would change his mind and ask for something mad: world domination, maybe, or the heart of a princess. The unicorn's blood pooled 'round their horses feet as it talked, and the snowfall slowed and then stopped all together.