The Heir of Slytherin

Helga was sitting by the great lake. She watched as her young charges ran up and down the slopes towards the water. They clamoured and yelped, spraying each other with water. A group of sixth year boys was teasing a young girl of their acquaintance, taking a bowl of water and positioning it behind the girl. Helga smiled as they saw her, and they winked at her, trusting in her secrecy. The bowl of water came down upon the girl's head, and she screamed and learched up berating the boys as they ran from her. Helga sighed and lay down on the soft verges of grass. Summer had been long in coming to Hogwarts this year; suddenly the ghostly apparition of spring had melted into balmy warmth. Helga looked up at the sky, and watched the clouds as they tumbled and formed into differing shapes.

A grass stalk tickled her nose. It itched and she craned round to see who it was that was torturing her so.

"Caspar!" she scolded. The four-year-old giggled with glee; his tunic was messy and crumpled, and he had chocolate round his mouth. He tittered again. She spun up and around to grab the boy.

"Gottcha!" she laughed, whilst she tickled him back.

"Auntie Helga!" he screamed with delight, as he squirmed ineffectually to get away.

"Now, Caspar Slytherin what am I going to do with you?" Helga demanded teasingly. "Am I going to tell your father? Or your mother?"

"Neither!" he chirruped. "Did nothing wrong!" he pouted in a pose very reminiscent of his mother, Rowena. His curly brown locks were lightened by what Helga only assumed to be the sun, because both his parents were dark haired.

"Hmm, torturing innocent young aunties is a crime that could get you put in prison."

Caspar's face crumpled for a minute whilst he concentrated on deciphering Helga's sarcasm.

"Won't put me in prison, I'm a Slytherin!" he exclaimed. "Anyway you're ancient!" Helga's eyebrows went up dangerously, as she stared at Caspar. "Well...old....!" Caspar tried to amend. Helga smiled at the child, who breathed a rather audible sigh of relief.

A couple of the young girls came up from the lake, saw Caspar, and diverted their course from heading to the school to heading to Helga. They sat next to Helga and started to play with Caspar. Ever since he had been born, he had become a favourite of the students within the school, and he was a bit of a legend (and excuse) for all the trouble that occurred in the school.

Cresting the hill that led from the wild animal paddocks came a class that was led by Godric and had obviously, judging by the injuries some of the students had obtained, come from a Care of Magical Creatures class. Dismissing the class, Godric slumped down in the grass next to Helga.

"Never. Ever. Ever. Ever let the children play with Firebreathing Dingoes. It only leads to..."

"Burns?" Helga raised an eyebrow at Godric.

"Yes, I thought we would be able to do this project efficiently. But no..."

"They're in fifth year Godric, what do you expect?"

"S'pose," Godric said sulkily, as he played with a bit of the long grass, and flicked a bit of blond hair out of his face.

Helga shook her head, and said, "Stop sulking Godric, you're as bad as Caspar." Godric, to solidify the point, stuck his tongue out at her. "Very grown up," she murmured sardonically.

Caspar, surrounded by a plethora of teenage girls going googoo at him, looked as if he had just been admitted into his own private harem of pleasure.

"Look at Caspar," Godric changed the subject, "he's a lady's man at four!"

"Yes," Helga said quietly observing the scene. Godric got up to join the child with the female students and started to tease the girls lightly for loving a four year old so much. One of them tartly commented back that four year olds were easier to love than fifteen year olds because they were less demanding.

"Caspar!" a shrill call reached the party by the lake's ears. "Caspar! Where are you?" Rowena appeared looking frantic. "Caspar!" Her eyes lighted on Helga. "Oh Helga, have you seen Caspar?" Helga pointed to the gaggle of girls with Caspar and Godric in the middle. "Oh thank Merlin, he escaped whilst I was teaching a class! I was absolutely frantic. Imagine what Salazar would say if his heir went missing?"

"I take it he wouldn't be very happy?"

"No, not at all, Caspar's the light of his life." Rowena sat down. "He looks very happy, what's he done?"

"Nothing really. Just torturing ancient innocent Aunties."

Rowena smiled apologetically at Helga, and grimaced. "Sorry."

"No, don't be, I love him to bits." Rowena beamed as most mothers do when their child is either praised or loved.

"Oh, you've found him." Salazar's usual sardonic voice was filled with relief. The women looked behind them.

"Yes. He was with me," Helga said standing.

"Good, good. Try not to lose him again, Ro?" He pierced Rowena with a death glance. Rowena hung her head in shame.

"Not in front of the students," Helga cautioned quietly.

Her eyes flicked to the students and saw in that instant that Caspar's father was not the man by his mother, but the man playing beside Caspar himself, the sun illuminated their hair and made it look like a spun brandy-snap basket. Helga understood. Completely.

"I have to do some marking." Making her excuse, she left.