Live When There Is Time

Salazar Slytherin was striding as fast as dignifiedly possible along Hogwarts' corridors. In a short length of time he had gone through a whole scale of moods. It had initially begun with 'vaguely pleased about the state of things and life in general' but at the catalyst of an owl fluttering in through the window had rapidly dropped through 'mild displeasure', 'dismay' and 'fury' to 'nearing murderous rage'.

The morning had been spent in the pleasant managing of correspondence. Among all the scrolls had been a long-awaited missive informing him of his father's death. In a heartbeat, or lack of one, he had become the Head of Slytherins everywhere, far and wide, and the master of the Slytherin estates. Indeed, interesting times lay ahead. Slytherin had stretched with cat-like contentment. The tragic demise of his father also presented the perfect excuse for a dutiful son to take a long leave of the school and travel to the House. Underlings could run Hogwarts' House Slytherin well enough during his absence.

Adding to his pleasure had been a message from Godric Gryffindor, which let him know a Caledonian Quadricapital had been sighted in the area. Parts of dragons usually made good potions ingredients and were in general useful magical items. Quadricapitals were fierce and dangerous, having the nature of an irate hornet and the destructive power of a Juggernaut. Four fire-breathing heads instead of merely one only added to the challenge. They were amazing creatures and could be utilized almost entirely. Due to excessive hunting they were also difficult to come by. He and Gryffindor were determined to catch this one. It was one of their few common characteristics. Gryffindor was mad for any outdoors sport and Slytherin found dragon-hunting a worthy pastime. He quite looked forwards to it, after the tedious security measures were done with. Classes would be informed later.

And then a final owl had appeared, shattering the fragile sense of orderliness and control of the day. It had been an unexpected message from his recently-acquired ward. With amusingly decorous words the chit let him know she was going out for a walk. Slytherin's amusement dwindled to nothingness at this. Ungrammatical Latin aside, one of the most dangerous dragons in existence was loose in the area and that foolish young had decided to go for a stroll. He had probably treated her too kindly, his mind having been otherwise occupied. Being not used to bothering himself about the whims of womanfolk, there were times when he completely forgot her very existence.

And he could not have hoped for more. If the girl managed to make herself unnoticed she attracted attention neither of negative nor positive kind, excluding Gryffindor's marital schemes. In general she had been suitably obedient and seemed to have appropriate respect for him. She spoke little, avoided eye-contact and all in all appeared to have acquired an adequate grasp of proper behaviour. A talkative and bold woman was an abomination. All in all, he had been satisfied with his little ward. The information she had divulged had had many uses. Some of it was rot, of course. That it was advanced did not mean it was correct, he was certain. There were also other convenient aspects to the girl. She was his and his alone to rear. No one and nothing on earth could influence what he did with her. It was a pleasant state of affairs. Clay to be moulded according to his fancy. Even the promising young men training under him had families and ambitions standing in the way of appropriate control.

And now this! He had been out of the door before the dropped parchment reached the floor.

Slytherin arrived at a side door and stepped out. Where in Hades could the girl have gone? After a simple spell his wand pointed him downhill from the castle, where was a crag born from the castle-hill after aeons of harsh winds and rain. This was too much. For a lady it was nearly shocking to go out accompanied for a little walk near the castle. It simply would not even occur for a lady to do something like that. Women lead their lives mostly inside, except the barbarians of course. Mistress Hufflepuff, for example, had been raised in relative freedom in her youth, but had understood the importance of appearances and after her marriage lived according to the restraints of civilized society. What his ward was now doing was outrageous. Climbing rocks alone was far beyond shocking. He could only hope to manage to haul her inside before this became public knowledge.

Enraged, he started to march downhill, and left the castle far behind him. It took a while before he could see the small spot of colour that was the girl in the middle of grey stones.

There was at least a good thousand paces between him and the crag as he saw what he had feared in the distance. The Quadricapital was approaching, gleefully snorting fire, from the opposite side and clearly intended to make an invigorating snack of the girl. Dragons did like to feed on maidens.

Slytherin wasted no time before acting, weighing different options in the blink of an eye. He had not summoned Gryffindor as he left thinking it probable that the dragon would be elsewhere. He had wanted to spare himself the shame that now appeared to be inevitable. However, he had no choice. Running towards the scene Slytherin left out colourful lights from his wand, bright enough to be seen at a radius of three thousand paces. Unfortunately, the dragon did not sway but focused on the girl. At least the sparks would be seen at Hogwarts and help sent.

Meanwhile, Maia had acutely lost her ability to think. Admittedly, she had been pursuing that state of mind in this infernal life she had found herself leading, but thought was of use when faced with a dragon. Not just any dragon, at that. As the monster approached she could painfully clearly see it had four heads, fire erupting from each of them occasionally. And, it was most certainly heading in her direction. Amazing, how it knew where to go, despite the multitude of heads.

She was doomed. She recognised the dragon in question. Not from Care of Magical Creatures class, but from History of Magic. Caledonian Quadricapitals had died out in the 13th century, hunted down for potions ingredients and because they were a general menace. Another point in favour of her native time: all dragons were under control and only ate a few Muggles, every now and then.

The boulders which had been so pleasant to climb leisurely were suddenly accursed obstacles as she clambered over them, instinctively trying to run away. It was, of course, useless, as the Quadricapital was quite near now, swooping triumphantly in circles above her. Its screeching made her feet feel leaden and she fought against succumbing to the petrifying horror. The dragon was like a cat, preferring to play with its prey for a while. Its idea of playfulness was apparently breath fire, five feet from her on both sides. And that was only the beginning...

Maia didn't now how she could still keep going and why. Why was she even trying to escape? It was not as if she was pleased with her life. Suicide had crossed her mind often enough, but she was always too much of a coward to actually go through with it. Now would be the ideal opportunity to get the recently overwhelming burden of life lifted from her shoulders. Just a moment of intense heat - surely she would not survive that long enough to suffer too much. Or hurt more than at the moment. She was sore all over, having been thrown here and there by the sheer force of the dragon's scorching breath.

In her right hand, the wand hand naturally, the bone was very likely fractured. The pain was intense, even though she tried to shelter the hand by pressing it against her side. She hoped fervently that the next time she would hit her head hard enough to lose consciousness. Then it all would be over and done with. No more stress; no more reading heavy codices with cold sweat trickling down to her eyes; no more solitary meals in the great hall, weighing every word she dared utter with her awkward Latin; no more the familiar and at the same time unfamiliar Hogwarts.

When another gust of air lifted her feet from the ground and threw her forward she managed to grasp a hold of one of the stunted threes. Maia clung with all her might, though she couldn't even try to defend herself, laughable as the thought was against a dragon the size of a house, with one hand hurt and the other gripping the three. There were blisters forming in her face and hands from the hot and incredibly foul breath of the beast. It was once again doing a dive towards her and Maia screamed from the burning agony. Why the sodding beast would not breath proper fire and finish her off. To think that Draco Malfoy had had the audacity to brag that his Patronus was a dragon. She would very much have liked to throttle him.

Swoosh!

The wind banged her up and down against the rock she was lying on. Why hadn't she fainted yet? Hearing both of her own shinbones crunch and snap to splinters was decidedly the worst experience in her entire life, never mind even Salazar Slytherin. At the force of another blast of air her shoulder popped out of its socket and crying in agony she lost her grip of the three and was hurled in the air, bouncing with sickening cracks of a few boulders before smashing against a bigger one. Slowly, like a clump of thick dough, she glided down into a wedge between stones.

Stuck there, she reflected that consciousness apparently was finally starting to fade away. Though, Maia noticed with bitter disappointment, not the pain. This she concluded, because the world, a moment ago a consisting only of fire and pain and wind and the hungry roars of the dragon, had suddenly become eerily silent and still.

Strange, thought Maia. She could not be dead because that implicated that there would be no her to think this. I think therefore I am... There would be no her to be in agony on par with the Cruciatus. No her to see a bit of light if she opened her eyes carefully, blinking off crusted blood. She heard distant voices approaching and then shadow fell over her as someone scrambled over the rock on her right side.

Two faces floated in the air, mingling and circling one another. At least there was dark patch indicating hair in both, a number of lesser dark patches in a circle, which hovered above her. Eventually, it all merged together and Maia was able to recognize Godric Gryffindor of all people. She heaved a desperate sob. What compulsion the Gryffindors had to always play the hero? Slytherin would never forgive her this.

Gryffindor disappeared from view for a moment and she heard him shout something, from which 'Slytherin' was all she could fearfully comprehend. Slytherin had not allowed her to learn the Anglo-Saxon language, vulgar peasant tongue according to him.

Gryffindor was back and speaking to her, in Latin now. "Lady, Lady, can you hear me?"

Maia was suddenly consumed by a desire to communicate somehow, to ask him make the pain go away - to use Avada Kedavra on her on the spot if necessary. She would do anything to get rid of the agony and absolutely anything to never experience it again. Admittedly a few months of intensive swotting in Latin under the supervision of Slytherin had done marvels to her grasp of the language but that was of no use now. That she realized when after a tearful splutter could be heard a frustrated sigh and Gryffindor once again turned to shout at the distance.

"Lady Porfyra is trying to say something, but it is all in Greek again, I suppose. I cannot understand a word she says. Why won't you hurry up a bit?!"

"I'm right here, Gryffindor. The Hippogriff you brought me was of the worst kind to ride against a dragon." A tense voice replied. "I do hope it was not purposeful. That would have been dishonourable indeed. Do you realize that half of the time I was distracted because the blasted creature was difficult to manage? How could you be so foolish? You know we both were needed to fight that beast and we will discuss this later. Now let me see my ward."

Maia heard Gryffindor take a deep, indignant breath. "Just because I don't choose beat my animals to submission there is no reason..." The voice faded in the background, to become a disgruntled mutter.

Maia could not have felt more miserable. Slytherin was furious. She had been stupid and grown careless, thinking she would dare defy him and bear the consequences. This was what she had got, even without his fury. Silent tears started squeezing from her swollen eyes. She heard some shuffling and then Slytherin's voice spoke silently at her ear. Slight puffs of air caressed the blistered skin of her neck as he talked, almost hissed.

"Now the snivelling this instant and listen carefully. I expect you realize I'm not very pleased with you. At least I hope you have learnt to not disobey me. Now I'm going to take you to my rooms for healing. It would be beneath me to leave you to anyone else's ministrations." He straightened and stepped back. "I believe a lack of any pain-relieving spells should also assist you in contemplating your behaviour. Mobilicorpus!"

As Maia's body rose from the ground the movement caused her ravaged body to convulse in pain and she could not help screaming. Bright colours danced in her eyes as Slytherin first cursed silently and then used the Imperius on the Hippogriff before mounting with another string of expletives.

With last orders to someone, who apparently was to not touch the dead dragon before his return, he and Maia were off.

Maia's view of the world consisted mostly of sky, not a blue one, but full of grey clouds. And heavenly cool and fresh wind, very unlike the dragon's hot and Dementor-like breath. The clouds looked soft and lovely and she wanted to dive into them, into the sweet oblivion they would surely offer.

After a while it was Slytherin's annoyed snapping which revealed to her that they had arrived and that apparently every single person living in Hogwarts was outside, enjoying the show. Maia was all too aware that this did little to improve Slytherin's mood. She caught glimpses of faces as Slytherin stalked through the crowd which divided to let him pass, Maia gliding in tow in all her burnt glory. Maia knew enough to understand that Slytherin detested the thought of anyone knowing about his private matters and that he considered her very much a private matter.

Suddenly familiar stone walls and tapestries were swirling past. Some of the people in the tapestries followed them whispering and pointing, looking sympathetic. She would have grinned at them but it was too much of an effort.

Corridor, corridor, unbearable pain, corridor... Insanely, Maia counted random stones, which glided past. It was far from exact or sensible counting. 72... 73... 74... 47... 48... She swam from deliriousness to consciousness and back but did not pass out.

At last Slytherin stopped at a door, opened all the wards and floated Maia in the familiar blue room, where she had fainted and then presumably been questioned. In a corner was a second door, which opened to a room where Slytherin levitated her over a large bed. With few quick words the spell ended and Maia's stomach contracted as she fell half a foot, bumping on the blue coverlet. She screamed again and utterly humiliated begged relief.

Slytherin remained distinctly unsympathetic. "Give me a reason to heal you."

Gathering the breath to support the words was difficult enough and playing mind games was absolutely out of the question. Maia said as much, through gritted teeth.

"I rather think you should reconsider that." Slytherin now stood somewhere left from the bed. Only his disembodied, falsely indifferent voice reached her ears. "I had plans for you, but this insubordination is very aggravating.

You leave "for a walk", as you put it, alone and without awaiting my permission. What exactly were you thinking?" With each word Slytherin's voice grew colder and colder until Maia screwed her eyes shut, trying to block it.

"Yes, I anticipated you would not have much to say in your defence. Do you have any idea how this affects the image people have of me. The whole of Hogwarts was able to see that you truly had been stupid enough to venture outside when a dragon was loose. " At this point Slytherin whirled around and shot a spell at her, making Maia convulse and shriek at the magnified agony.

"Please, stop, stop, stop!! I'll do anything you ask. I'll never leave the castle or speak to anybody you don't approve! Anything, just stop!" The convulsing ended and the pain receded to now almost tolerable level. She drew a shuddering, relieved breath. "Anything."

"Do you have the audacity to think you are in a position to bargain? What you listed should be obvious. It goes without saying you obey me and act the way your position requires. If you are unable come up with anything more useful I fear I must leave you to consider matters until tomorrow morning."

Maia's heart sunk with horror. He couldn't... he wouldn't...

He did.