Tale of a Time Long Gone

Chapter 1 - The Dictation of Fate

"During the tenth century, the witches and wizards of Britain lived under a shadow of fear. The non-magical community, more commonly known as the Muggle community, was very aware of the supernatural and abhorred its very existence.

"Many of the magical community were persecuted and often killed - by fire, by hanging or by drowning.

"The reader must remember that at that time, the Bubble-Head Charm and the Flame Freezing Charm were yet to be discovered, thus most of those executions were successful.

"To fight these persecutions, the magical community founded the Council of Warlocks - an establishment that would create a separate world for the magical community - hidden from the eyes of Muggles.

"The Council succeeded in creating the protected environments, but as soon as that goal was achieved, the Council's main aims turned to the well-being of the representative warlocks and their friends and families, as was the wont of many other political institutions. They stopped caring for the Wizarding World as a whole and the natural procedures of life stood still.

"Magic-capable children were left to fend for themselves, and those of Muggle heritage were not notified of their abilities. This situation often resulted in death..."

- Hogwarts, A History; Author unknown

Five years later...

"'Find Rosalind Ravenclaw and bring her to face the Council or face the consequences' - who does he think he is?!" a livid Godric Gryffindor mimicked Lord Ambrosius, Chief Warlock of the Council of Warlocks.

He and Salazar were going back to Caerwyn Valley for the first time in five years. They were commanded to bring a witch by the name of Rosalind Ravenclaw to the Council gathering at Stonehenge. For what reason, they were not sure.

"Who is this Rosalind?" Salazar asked, attempting to mollify his enraged friend.

"Supposedly she is a great Charmer and one of the only people to master travel by magic. I heard from Calanthe - remember that witch from the Loch? The one who tried to seduce you? Anyway, I heard from her that Rosalind Ravenclaw has been working in the past few years on a method to make travel by magic a lot simpler for less able wizards. I suppose-"

"Wait, wait, wait-" Salazar stopped the flow of Godric's speech. "Back up a moment - what were you doing with Calanthe?"

"Nothing," he replied innocently. "I keep in touch with her every time I pass by the Loch."

Salazar narrowed his eyes; he was not sure he entirely believed Godric. "So what do you think Ambrosius has to do with this Charmer?"

"I have no idea. I will tell you one thing, though. Whatever it is he wants - it's very bad for this Rosalind woman. He has been gathering talented wizards and witches lately and no one knows what for or what happens to them after the Council has them brought in front of him. Did Ambrosius tell you where she lives?"

"He only told me she was somewhere in Caerwyn Valley - nothing else. There are quite a few villages there, so I suppose we'll have to go from village to village and search for her. If you ask me she might not even be alive anymore with all the prejudice going on in Caerwyn these days and the Council not caring about the lives of 'common' members of the magic community."

"Quite possible, I'm afraid. Oh, Salazar? Please let's not get into Culhwch."

"Why?"

"Do you not remember, Salazar? The girl? The one they pressed us to marry? The thirteen year old one? We never did reject them."

"Oh! I forgot! It was five years ago, you know - she is probably happily married and has a dozen whelps by now."

"That is not a nice word. I think you took a fancy to her back then, eh?"

"Godric!" Salazar scolded. "I barely looked at the poor thing! I will have none of that from you! I am still your elder - whether you like it or not!"

Godric sniggered. "Yes, Salazar. I know you are older than me - you never let me forget - never have, never will. You have twenty eight years of experience in this world and I have only twenty five - I bow before you, greatest of the Fen People, He Who Wallows in Mud."

"Quiet, you," Salazar hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Hand me your map, will you?"

Godric pulled a rolled up map from one of his saddlebags and handed it to him. "What do you need the map for?"

"I don't really remember the way to Caerwyn. Were we supposed to go left in the second fork after that last town? Or was it right?"

"Left. Now let's get going. I'm freezing my-"

"Godric!" Salazar tried to sound exasperate. Godric, unlike many wizards of his station, tended to resort to the rougher, more common side of language. He had a very colourful vocabulary and Salazar - to his horror - had recently started picking up a lot of it.

"Sorry, sorry, I won't do it again. How far is it to the Valley?"

"It'll probably take us the better part of three days. I am really going to hex Ambrosius next time I see him - sending us out in the middle of winter."

"Hey! I told you we should have hexed him before we left! But goody-goody Salazar had to be all noble about it and tell me that it's wrong."

"Well, I am your elder, and it is my responsibility-"

"Oh, stuff your responsibilities up your arse, will you? That man asks to be hexed - you know it as well as I do. And don't bother arguing! I know you too well and can read you like an open book - down to the most grubby and grimy corners of your impeccable soul."

Salazar made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat and went back to consulting the map.

"That's your answer to everything," Godric huffed indignantly.

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Godric and Salazar finally reached the first of the Caerwyn Valley villages, a small place called Bronwen Field. It was, in Godric's words, bloody freezing, and not even the many-layered Warming Charms they cast repeatedly could take the edge out of the bite of frost.

"You know," Godric began conversationally, "For the past three hours I've been contemplating the best way to turn a man into a donkey-eared radish."

"Indeed?" Salazar replied dryly. "And may I hazard a guess concerning the identity of that man?"

"You have one guess."

"Thought as much. Look, Godric, dwelling on it will do you no good. Let's... let's just concentrate on our mission, all right?"

"How can I just forget about it? Salazar - we both know that our credentials are far better than his. We both can trace our ancestors as far back as the second century. All he does is claim he's Merlin's descendent. Where is the proof? Where is the family tree? He has none - and yet he treats us like dirt. What right does he have to send us here like some snot-nosed apprentices?"

"He has the Council backing him up, Godric," Salazar said in the air of someone who has explained the same thing over and over again. "It was just our misfortune that both our fathers died when we were too young to assume their places in the Council. Now let it go, please."

Godric grumbled a bit, but complied. They had discussed this before. Both men were offspring to two of the most powerful Wizarding Families in the magic community. It was traditional for such families to have a representative in the Council of Warlocks. However, the number of seats in the Council was limited and when both Gawain Gryffindor and Searlas Slytherin were killed with only a short interval between them twenty years before, both Godric and Salazar were too young to replace their fathers. Two members of weaker and less noble families joined in their stead, barring Godric and Salazar from joining back and continuing the work of their fathers.

The two young men headed to the village centre and cornered a random villager. Upon hearing the name Ravenclaw, the man shied away from them and made signs to ward off the devil, giving no answer. So did the next three people they tried to question.

"Interesting reaction," Salazar said softly as they rode out of the village, empty-handed.

"Obviously this mission is not to be as simple as we had hoped," Godric frowned. "There's something fishy about this. Do you reckon the villagers know the Ravenclaws are not Muggles?"

"It's a possibility, but we can't take it as a fact till we have some proof of it."

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Two days later they were about to give up. They had combed Caerwyn Valley thoroughly and Rosalind Ravenclaw was nowhere to be found. In every village they had entered there had been one of two reactions: A frightened look and a sign against evil, or complete bewilderment. No one seemed to want to tell them anything.

"What wouldn't I give right now for an Anti-Cold Potion..." Salazar said on the morning it started to snow, blowing his nose on his handkerchief. "Only one more place to visit, Godric. After this - Madam Ravenclaw or not - I'm heading back to Stonehenge. I have had enough of this wretched climate."

"Is that one place named Culhwch?"

"I am afraid so."

Godric sighed. "Let's go. The sooner we get it done with the better."

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The pair rode into Culhwch late that evening. The snow fell heavily on the ground, and they were grateful for the prospect of a warm bed and meal.

They received neither.

Everything went as planned in the beginning. The owner of the Bear Spear had a room to spare, and a hot stew cooking in the kitchen. He also seemed to remember them from five years prior and was very friendly.

They had just finished haggling for the charged price and settled to wait for their dinner, when Godric caught sight of a man he recognized sitting by himself next to the closest table, drinking a pint of ale.

"Hello, there! You are Master Hufflepuff, are you not?"

Sigmund Hufflepuff raised his head. Both Godric and Salazar were astounded to see the redness of his eyes and his bloated face - the signs of intensive alcohol abuse. The five years that had passed had not been kind to this man.

"Do I know you?" he demanded.

"We met shortly, five years ago - when my companion and I first passed here. How is your daughter...Helga, I think her name was? Safely married I assume?"

Up until then Salazar had not been aware of the background noise in the inn - the sound of cheerful talk, laughter and clinking of cutlery. Only when it was cut off so abruptly did he miss it. Something there was not right.

"I don't have a daughter," Master Hufflepuff growled.

"Oh, but of course you do!" Godric continued in the same cheerful tone. Salazar wished he could cast a Silencing Charm on his friend. The man could be so thick at times. "You even wanted one of us to-"

"Listen, you great fool!" Hufflepuff burst, pulling Godric to face him by the front of his tunic, catching him by surprise. "I'm telling you I have no daughter!"

He then released him and strode off.

Godric and Salazar both stared at him in amazement. The silence was then broken by a feminine voice, bitter and cold.

"Good job, the pair of you. Reminding him of that - that witch."

"Witch?" The two asked in unison, exchanging glances and then turning to look at the young woman who had spoken. She was vaguely familiar to them both, but they could not quite place her.

"Oh, yes. A witch. I was a friend of hers - as much as I am ashamed to admit it. I should have noticed the signs! It was entirely that Raven girl's fault! That Rowena. She was always whispering in her ear - it was she who turned her from the path of righteousness! It was she who goaded her to worship the Evil One! Oh, we knew she was weird - but never in our lives did we imagine we had such wickedness in our midst!"

"Raven girl? Who is she?" Salazar asked slowly, understanding dawning on his face.

"I remember the two of you. You came here a few years back - you must have seen her - never away from her elbow. Always whispering and never giving her a moment's peace. She convinced her to push us all away. She told her she was her only friend - that all of us wanted to harm her."

"I don't recall-" he began, only to be interrupted.

"You mean that wild-looking girl, don't you?" Godric exclaimed. "The one resembling a haystack?"

"That's her, all right," the woman said disdainfully. "That Ravencrow girl. She once punched me-"

"Ravencrow? Surely you don't mean Ravenclaw, do you?" Salazar asked in alarm.

"You know them?" the woman asked suspiciously.

Before Salazar had the chance to stamp on Godric's foot or something after that fashion to stop him from talking, Godric said "Know them? We have been looking for them for days! Where can we find them?"

If the silence after Master Hufflepuff's departure was profound, it was nothing in comparison to the one that spread after that question.

"Get out," the owner of the inn hissed after the moment of shock had passed. "Get out and never come back! You are the servants of evil if you are looking for those people. Thank goodness we've managed to put our hands on the man-witch - he won't be consorting with the Evil One any more. Get out! GET OUT!"

They did not need any further prompting. It was quite obvious to them both what a nest of vipers they had walked into. Without another word they went out, mounted their horses and rode out of the village with angry shouts behind them.

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"You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?" Salazar said glumly that night as they huddled near as they could to their miserable fire under the shelter of a few trees.

"I'm sorry," Godric said sadly. "I suppose I was too alarmed to think rationally. They killed someone, you know. The man-witch. I suppose they meant that girl's father. Burned him or drowned him is my wager."

"Burned him, probably. It's becoming more popular these days - The Muggles decided it was better - leave the occasional wizard or witch they do catch no room for escape. It's getting ridiculous," Salazar said in a depressed tone. "We have to protect ourselves from the Muggles. They just can't let us live in pea- what is it?" He stopped, seeing Godric's raised hand.

His friend put a finger to his lips, then pointed to his ear and then to the direction the sounds came from. He also had his wand out and carefully aimed it in that same direction.

Alarmed, Salazar pulled out his own wand and tried to listen for any suspicious sounds and look for movements of someone hidden. Godric's hearing was superior to his, but Salazar's eyesight was better.

She tried her best to get there silently and unnoticed, but she had not taken into account there being people whose talents could put them in mortal danger and who were always on edge. She certainly did not expect Godric pouncing on her from the dark and pushing her to the ground, pointing his wand to her throat when he did.

"Very well, Godric," Salazar said dryly. "You have had your fun. Let's see who this person is. Lumos." His wand flared suddenly, making the girl on the ground close her eyes protectively. She looked about eighteen, and judging by the way her hair was done, as yet unmarried. She seemed familiar.

"Please don't hurt me!" she whimpered, covering her face with both arms.

"Oh, I won't hurt you," Salazar almost purred, "But I cannot speak for Godric here. See, he really doesn't like being sneaked up on, and he was really annoyed today. I'm sure you understand - we really dislike hearing about our people being burned to death because of a Muggle whim."

"Please!" she begged. "I - I came here to tell you something important - Mother comes to check up on me every night - I don't have time to waste! Please!"

"What do you think, Godric?"

Godric glared at the girl, but release her. "Well?" he demanded.

"I... I am Alis. I was - I am - a friend of Helga's."

"Helga Hufflepuff?"

"Ye- yes."

"She's a witch." It was not a question.

"That's what everybody thinks. Two years ago, when she turned sixteen, Gwyneth - that's the woman that talked to you at the inn today - just for a lark, pushed her off one of the stones not far from the village where we used to play as children - and she - she just floated down - wasn't even the least bit hurt! And some of the girls - well, we were all taught from birth that anything unnatural is the work of the devil - and that was unnatural! No one could have done such a thing without the help of the Evil One!" she sniffed and looked at them fearfully. "You are man-witches, are you not?"

"If we are, it has nothing to do with your story," Salazar said sharply before Godric could say anything. "Get on with it. For all we know you are a decoy sent to distract us while the rest of the villagers surround our camp and attempt to kill us as well."

With a cry, she continued. "No! I'm not! I am still very much a friend of Helga's! I won't do anything to hurt her! The adults immediately had her confined and planned her execution for the next day. They had everything ready - the stake and all. It would have happened had Rowena not been there. She seemed very shocked - just like the rest of us - and ran away. She came back, though - with her parents - and they managed to free Helga - at a dreadful cost. Rowena's father was taken - they burned him instead of Helga."

"What happened next? Where are the women these days?" Godric asked in a soft voice. Salazar was not deceived. Inside, Godric was furious. While Salazar's own father had died due to foolishness of his own - trying to invent a new potion - Muggles had killed Godric's father - something his friend was not likely to forget.

Alis seemed to sense his anger as well, so she hurried to continue her story. "No one knows for sure... but every time Helga went to visit Rowena she went in the general direction of the Glen. That's up north - that way," she pointed. "People from the village went inside to search for them, but they never found anything - in fact, they all came back confused at what they were doing there in the first place."

"Muggle repelling charms," Salazar muttered. "Someone there is immensely strong - to repel so many."

"Have you anything else to tell us, girl?" Godric asked.

Alis shook her head, intimidated.

"Then run along."

She did so, not even attempting to hide her relief.

"Why didn't you modify her memory?" Salazar asked as they watched her depart.

"It wasn't necessary. She's loyal enough to her friend. Besides, I will not be surprised if everybody in Culhwch is already aware of our... peculiarities. Put the light out, will you - you're lighting a beacon for anyone to see."

"Nox," Salazar whispered and followed Godric back to the fire.

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If they thought it was hard going through the snow in the Valley, it was nigh impossible in the Glen. They had to dismount and walk their steeds. An only half-frozen stream also proved a test for them.

"Did you catch any whiff of magic?" Godric asked quietly as he cast another warming charm on his horse's wet legs.

"Nothing but those spells we use. The Ravenclaws are very careful, I believe," Salazar replied, drawing his cloak close around him.

"Considering everything, I am not surprised. It would have been easier had we had a Muggle with us - then we could have seen when the Muggle repelling charms start their work."

As they ventured deeper and deeper into the Glen, the weather got steadily worse. By the time night had fallen, a storm had started blowing around them.

"We must find shelter!" Godric roared above the howl of the wind.

"I can't see a thing! How will we find shelter? We can't see our own noses!"

"I see a light! To your left - can you see it?"

Far to his left, Salazar managed to glimpse that light - a dim, faraway light - but real nonetheless.

"Yes! Come on!"

They turned their horses in the direction of the blurry light. It took them well over a quarter of an hour to reach it, fighting the howling wind and battling through deep snow, pulling their horses by their bridles. They were not even aware of reaching the light until Salazar was slammed bodily into the wall of a sturdy stone house.

Blindly, desperately, they groped for a door.

"I found it!" Salazar shouted to Godric. He wrapped his hand around the frozen doorknob and pushed it open with all his might, catching them both off balance. Still holding onto their horses' bridles, the wind threw the two men into a well-lit room, crashing face-first into a well-worn, clean floor.

"Ow!" Godric whined. "I think I broke something."

"Me, too," Salazar groaned next to him, feeling a burning sensation flowing from the general area of his ribcage.

"Who on earth are you?!"