A Revised History of Hogwarts

A Revised History of Hogwarts
Chapter 3

"Did you hear what happened in the Hufflepuff common room?" an excited Prof. Fudge whispered to her friend, Rowena.

"No, what?" Prof. Ravenclaw queried, adjusting her glasses and glancing down the table past Godric to Helga Hufflepuff.

"Someone set off some exploding dung in the Hufflepuff common room fireplace yesterday before supper," Olivia Fudge explained, picking at her mincemeat pie. "And the only two students in the common room any time around then didn't see anyone there."

"But one of Salazar's students was found leaving the area," Godric added, malice showing through. "A student on academic probation who had just left Salazar's company."

Slytherin turned his attention to the opposite side of the table. "Do not place this on my students, Gryffindor," he hissed, putting his hand down sharply on the solid oak table.

"Now, Salazar, Godric is only saying the facts of the case," Helga told the fuming Slytherin, touching his arm lightly. Gryffindor's eyes glanced to this, but no one else noticed. "He doesn't mean any harm."

Turning away from the main body of conversation, Slytherin muttered, "Of course." He returned to his low conversation with Prof. Stout concerning the Christian's monastic practices, and Helga wasn't worried. She thought that this incident wouldn't turn into anything serious.

The next couple of weeks passed without incident. Salazar and Godric seemed to be at an impasse; neither would outright say it, but they were both waiting for the day that war would break out, possibly splitting the school in two.

Rumors were spreading around the castle about the potential break, although most seemed to believe that it was Slytherin threatening to defect. Almost as popular to discuss was the upcoming "Field Day" for all students above the first year. Many people had their theories; Marcus Vector, a second year in Bernhard's house believed that they would be sent into a Muggle village to test their abilities to conceal themselves. Most people thought that was idiocy, though, and believed that they would simply be gnome hunting in the eastern forest or something mundane like that.

Will spent his days pretending to do schoolwork while hitting on the Ravenclaw girls. He knew that if he just glanced at his books before lessons he could coast by on native intelligence, and he wasn't too worried about Slytherin putting him on "disciplinary action." It would satisfy the Headmaster too much to have a Slytherin student suffering, so he knew his professor would come through in the end.

One afternoon as he drifted along through the dungeon corridors on his way to a Charms lesson with the irrepressible Prof. Kharuma, a mild-mannered Arab man built like a bird who walked with a tremendous, nimble gait, he thought he saw a bit of green nip through the space under the door to the Potions classroom. That's interesting, thought Will. I have enough time to get to Charms… Will ventured to open the door and stepped inside, his eyes searching the floor for the snake. The creatures always fascinated him, so his natural desire was to capture it and keep it as a pet.

He was dismayed when the animal slipped under the door to Slytherin's office. He turned and started to leave when he heard a commotion from the little room, and he listened for a moment to the hurried voices of two people. The great oak door creaked open and out paced Prof. Slytherin, pulling on his heavy cloak with Prof. Hufflepuff at his heels.

His teachers saw Will right away. "Go to class, boy," he spat, a deep scowl on his face. William ran out the door, wanting to seem like he was going to do his teacher's bidding. No, Slytherin's too smart for that, he told himself after he thought to follow them. I would never get away with it.

A younger student rounded the corner, and a shameless smile spread on Will's face. But little brothers could.

"Zihk!" Will called, beckoning the child to him. "I want you to do something for me."

"Will I get in trouble?" the child asked, scratching his brown head of hair. "Mama told me not to do what you say if it'll get me in trouble."

"Don't worry, Zihk," Will said, glad that his brother wasn't very intelligent. "If you get in trouble, just start to cry and tell the teachers that you're lost. You remember, I taught you how to cry so not even Mama can tell you're faking it."

"Okay, Will," his brother agreed. "What do I have to do?"

"Follow those two teachers down there," Will said, pointing down the hall in the direction Hufflepuff and Slytherin had disappeared. "Profs. Hufflepuff and Slytherin." Will saw his little brother's face flush, the sign that he was scared. "Don't worry, Zihk, Slytherin isn't that bad. He would never do something to a student in his own house."

Zihk sniffed. "It isn't Prof. Slytherin, it's Prof. Hufflepuff. She's always really nice to me. I don't want to make her mad."

"Now don't worry about that, kid," Will groaned, growing impatient. "Just do what I tell you and it'll be fine. Just follow them, remember what they say to each other and leave as soon as they see you or go somewhere you shouldn't. Now go!"

Will knew he could trust his brother to find the two teachers, even when they had such a huge head start. Zihk wasn't very smart, or cute, or competent, but if he had anything going for him in the business of deceit, it was his tracking abilities. Back home in Prussia, Will could always trust Zihk to find the goats when they wandered off the meadows. I'm like a freakin' Muggle goatboy, Will thought to himself, almost disgusted.

"Hush! Good… good evening, everyone!" Helga called in the Hufflepuff common room, standing on a low stool so that they could see her easily. "I have an announcement for you!"

Eventually the students calmed down and wandered into the circle of kids seated around her, whispering and chattering excitedly. Finally the last few children took their seat and Helga began to speak again, quieting them. "First, I would like to let everybody know about the upcoming Field Day. We will be randomly dividing all students above first year into inter-house teams--"

At this the chatter rose up again, but Helga continued, "and completing a mock-assignment somewhere in Britain. This will cover three days, so I'm not sure why it would be called a 'Field Day,' but it should be lots of fun. Tomorrow morning when you break your fast, you will receive a notice telling you which group you are in, and next week Friday, Saturday and Sunday will be spent on your projects. Good night, everyone!" she finished, stepping lightly off the stool. Students talked around her as she left, and some tried to find out what the projects would be ("Will we be practicing against Boggarts?"), but she just left giggling to the students that they would just have to wait to find out.

"What team are you in?" Caitlyn asked, leaning over to see Will's parchment. "I'm in, uhm… Dominus," the girl added, her brown hair falling into her eyes.

Will looked at his paper for the first time in while sitting in the back of Prof. Stout's history class. He leaned back over to Caitlyn when Stout had his back turned and whispered back, "Pilchre."

"You in Pilchre? Me too," Theresa Kellor whispered to Will, who was sitting behind her.

"Well, at least I know I won't get bored," Will whispered back, leaning quite close to the girl and breathing lightly on her neck. Most people when they first met him would think he was either in love or perverted, but Theresa and most of the other girls his age in the school had learned to take his advances lightly.

By the end of History of Magic, everyone knew who else in the third year would be with whom amongst the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Will paced out of the classroom with his hands tucked casually in his pockets and Caitlyn at his elbow. Caitlyn and Yvette, the two girls Will's age in Slytherin, were chatting on about something or other which didn't really interest Will.

They had a Potions lesson that afternoon, so Will and his cohorts returned to their dorms for their cauldrons, mortar and pestle and their notes. It was growing colder outside, and the dungeons were changing accordingly, so many of the students were donning their heavy cloaks just for the walk to the Potions classroom. The corners of the common room were being abandoned for the warmth of the fireplace, and when most of the space around the fire was taken many students were opting to do their homework in their dorm rooms with their small private fireplaces.

When Will reached his dorm, he grabbed his little cauldron, tossed his other things into his book bag and headed out. The fourth-year guys next door were asleep and had left their door half-open, their snores echoing down the hall into the common room. As Will passed by, he shouted into their room very loudly, "Shut it, Malfoy!"

His only response was Malcolm Malfoy's face poking out from behind his green curtains, sneering at him. Will smiled back and sauntered out into the common room, then out into the hallway.

The Potions classroom was buzzing with all of the third-year students, still figuring out who would be in a team with whom. Will wasn't at all interested in this, so he claimed his usual seat in the center row, two seats to the right, and waited for his usual partner to arrive. Caitlyn sat behind him, with Yvette to her left and Lawrence to her right, and in front of Will was a solid row of the four Gryffindors; Laura, Robert, James and Timothy. These were the only members of his class he'd never really been able to talk to; they treated him with as much disdain as he did his little brother's earthworm farm. Three of them were very pretentious, only associating with other Gryffindors; the fourth, Timothy, would probably be an all right sort if he stopped thinking about what the others would think of him.

To Will's left sat the Hufflepuffs, all four talking together with the Ravenclaws sitting in front of them more loudly than anyone else dared. The Slytherins had seen their head-of-house earlier that day, and he was in a particularly foul mood.

There were only two people missing from this class, besides their teacher; Evelyn MacMarrow, the only Ravenclaw Will had any liking for, and Theresa Kellor.

The door slid open and Evelyn strode into the busy classroom. A few eyes turned to her as she took her seat next to Will.

"So how's it going, Eve?" he asked her, smiling. "You looking forward to this three-day 'Field Day' thing?"

"I don't know," Eve replied. "You know there's nothing I like more than purposeless assignments that take me away from my studies," she said cynically, taking her supplies out of her satchel.

The door to Slytherin's office groaned open and Prof. Slytherin quickly treaded out to the front of the class. He was carrying a stack of papers and quickly handed out the graded essays from the last lesson.

"As I had anticipated," the boorish man began, "most of you have earned abysmal scores on your essays. I expect all of you who earned less than seventy percent on this essay to spend your free time this evening working on a new, twelve-inch makeup essay on the same subject, taking particular care in the areas of proper Saddleworm preparation which I have marked in red on your papers."

The class groaned. As usual, only a few of them would not be working late tonight. Will took out a piece of parchment and quietly scribbled a note on it, reading:

64. You?

He slid it to Eve, who grinned maliciously at Will and scribbled something back.

97. Do we need to start you on some quick-wit potion?

Will sighed. He should have expected this from Eve. The girl started out so well, a troublemaker to the bone. But that blasted thing called "initiative" got her into Ravenclaw, where the bookish students roam free started to take its effect on her. She was still good for random unruliness, but now that she was applying herself in class she always had something to lord over him.

The rest of the lesson was uneventful. He didn't feel like communicating with anyone too much, so after class Will just left the sample of his potion on Prof. Slytherin's desk and wandered back to his dorm room. After slightly embarrassing Malcolm earlier, he was fully prepared to find a barfing rat in his pillow, but nothing seemed wrong. The little ferret has something nasty in mind, he thought.

It was very late, and Helga was very tired, but she had papers to grade for the next morning and a lengthy outing to plan for her group. She would be leading ten of the students deep into the eastern woods, past Centaur country for a working lesson. She was greatly looking forward to it, but these long nights spent in preparation were exhausting… there had been a lot of advances made in the art of Repelling Charms, and she had to set so many in the area appointed to her so that no one, not even the Centaurs or any wandering unicorns, could find their way onto the land. And because of the anti-apparition charms placed on all the Hogwarts ground, she had to hike almost down to the smattering of huts down the road just to Apparate to the place assigned to her team… it was tiresome business.

The door to the staff room opened and Godric stepped through, heaving a sigh and removing his cloak wearily. He looked to Helga and stumbled over to her, taking a seat on the opposite side of her long bench. "Good evening, Helga," he began. "Long night?"

"Of course," she replied, starting to gather her essays. She thought that she'd just finish the next morning; the students wouldn't notice. "They're all long nights from here until the end of this project of yours."

Gryffindor laughed. "Now, don't leave this whole thing on me," he said, leaning his arm on the back of the bench. Helga noticed this and moved slightly away from him, just to be safe. Salazar could have been anywhere, and he was a very jealous man.

"Well, you did suggest it, plan it, and do everything but these wretched charms for us." Helga continued, "Not that I'm upset or anything. It should be fun to be out in the field with the students, roughing it so to speak." She stood, picking up her papers. "Now please excuse me, it has been a long day."

Helga began to leave, but Godric stood and caught her arm. "Now, dear, it has been a long day, so why don't you relax and, say, join me for a-"

"Gryffindor," Salazar hissed from before his chamber door. "The lady, I believe, has tired of you, so let her be."

"This is nothing," Godric replied casually, "and even if it weren't it would be none of your concern. Helga, why don't-"

Turning to face him, Helga said hesitating, "Godric, seriously. I do not want to be in the middle of one of your unreasonable arguments." She rent her arm from his light grasp and strode back to her apartment. "Good evening, gentlemen." With that, she opened her door and disappeared through it daintily.

Salazar returned to his apartment also, raising the lamplight with a flick of his wand. He moved to one of the cupboards above his long, padded bench and searched through it, taking out a few small vials of pills. Three doses of various mixtures of pain-killers and a mistaken dose of hairball reducer later, Slytherin was starting to feel himself. He thought to venture into his wife's chambers-he thought that Gryffindor had probably left the staff lounge, and Helga was a rather "cuddly" sort. (That was her own name for the condition, not Salazar's, and he really tried not to think about it.)

He thought on it for a moment and decided to go to visit her, even if just to speak with her. No one in his past had ever had the ability to calm him as much as she did, and at this point he needed all the peace she could afford him. After being forced to take part in an idiotic field trip that would teach the students nothing but to be afraid of the outside world, Salazar was feeling particularly malicious toward his former friend.

He eased out of his robes and changed into more loose-fitting clothes (she always called them his Black Pajamas of Death, but Salazar never understood that) and slipped back out the door. Helga always left her front door unlocked in case of emergency, but it was a bit ajar and firelight was flickering out into the staff room. Salazar paused; he thought he could hear voices coming from inside.

Salazar slipped through the door quietly. There, with his back to Salazar was Godric Gryffindor. A wave of anger filled his throat, but he still cautiously moved into the room. Morbid curiosity had him captive.

"Please, Godric, just leave. I am not interested in spending an evening staying up talking, or whatever else you had in mind," Helga insisted, standing before Godric who was leaning against one of her long tables on the left side of the room. Helga was keeping her distance, standing in front of her bench before the fire.

Gryffindor spoke her name, smiling. He advanced toward her, extending his hand, and he said, "I am growing tired of this game."

"Godric-"

Gryffindor moved toward her very quickly, catching her off-guard and wrapping his arm around her waist. Helga tried to pull away from him, but his grip was surprisingly tight. "Please don't take my advances lightly, Helga. I see so much potential between us, if you will just give me a chance…"

This was too much for Slytherin. He paced across the floor, and showing more composure than he felt, he wrest his wife from Gryffindor's grasp. "If you please, Gryffindor," Salazar said again, "the lady has tired of your idiocy. Leave now."

"And who are you to command me? What I do is none of your concern, Slytherin," Godric replied coolly. "But I am sick of conducting my business with Miss Hufflepuff where you can interrupt, so I will take my leave. Good night, Helga," Gryffindor took his leave from the place, his red cape trailing overdramatically behind him.

Helga's eyes began to fill with tears as she looked to her husband, who was fuming. "I... gods, Salazar, that man is insufferable," she said, sniffing. Slytherin took her into his arms. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders, so he leaned over to kiss her forehead gently. He glanced at the door to be sure that maggot had closed the door behind him, and tipped her head back, kissing her gently. His lank hair was falling into her face, and as he pulled her tighter into his arms she slid her fingers through his hair.

He broke his hold and leaned over her closer, stifling her sobs against his shoulder. "I am sorry, Helga," Salazar whispered into her ear. He moved his arms to her waist and still held her close, waiting for some sign to move back. "I am so sorry. That man is... I should have been here."

"No, it isn't your fault, it's just..." Helga rested her cheek against his chest, her arms sliding down the rest on his forearms. "I just don't want to live this way."

"I don't even know any more. If he's going to take it this far, it doesn't seem worth it to-"

She sobbed into his shirt and he gently slid his hand up and down her back. He kissed her cheek and gently lead her into the chambers.