Tale of a Time Long Gone

A/N: Hello, everyone! Though I didn't get many responses about Chapter 15, I do hope you've all enjoyed it and that you'll like this one as well, since something a lot of you have been waiting for it going to happen.

And now, let us all thank my wonderful beta, Mina, for going through this one, too!

In this chapter: Rowena is not a particularly good patient, Godric is irresponsible. Rowena has a temper, Godric has finally lost it. Rowena is in tears, Godric doesn't think its right. And Helga and Salazar? They simply have had enough.

Enjoy!

Chapter 16 - Heart Aches

"Long before the school became a fact. The Founders realized that in order to have a united establishment, that could in time pull others in its wake, they had to create a symbol for themselves. A coat of arms.

"This, of course, was easier said than done, for the four had much more pressing business at hand, but as the first couple of years had passed, they understood that the need for the banner, for the symbol was much more urgent than they had first surmised

"Therefore, urged by others supporting their cause, they had created the crest that in years to come would appear on each and every official document leaving Hogwarts Castle..."

- Hogwarts, A History; Author unknown

Rowena opened her eyes. She dared not hope that she survived that spell without a scratch. It was obvious enough that it was not used in its full potency, for had it been the matter, she would have been gone.

She was on her back and there was something that felt like a tree root stuck in the small of her back.

All around her she could hear spells being shouted. Someone stumbled over her, making her shoot upright. The hasty movement resulted in a feeling of dizziness that soon subsided.

Taking a deep breath, she looked around her. Four of the five Knights who had accompanied them to Gregory's hideout were to one side, running after the apparently fleeing man, while the fifth remained behind to untie the others. She looked around, but failed to spot Godric.

"Rowena!" Helga cried the minute she was released and threw herself into Rowena's arms. "Don't ever do that again!"

"Do what?" she asked in bewilderment. "I didn't do anything."

"Scare me like that! You gave me such a fright!"

Rowena laughed weakly. She had given herself a fright. When the words had left Gregory's mouth she wished the world goodbye, and her last conscious thoughts revolved around Godric. She was quite mortified of what that might imply and resolved not to speak another word of it to anyone. Ever.

She tried to get up, but found herself gently restrained by Salazar's hand on her shoulder.

"You may cause yourself further damage, Rowena, and Godric will never forgive us that."

Ignoring what this may mean, she asked, "Speaking of Godric - where is that man?"

"The moment Deiniol set him loose he went after Gregory. The others will make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Define 'stupid'," she said dryly, masking her worry.

Shaking his head in suppressed mirth, he replied, "Anything that Godric did, does and will do. That's according to normal people's definition."

"Correct. Then, assuming that Godric went after Gregory, unarmed and after he spent almost a week in captivity, very likely without food, water or much sleep, what can this be defined as?"

He sighed. "Very stupid?"

"True. Then what are you going to do?"

"I'm... going to bring him back and make sure he's in one piece so that you can make his life a living hell for giving you such a cause for worry?"

"Yes."

With a shrug of resignation, Salazar drew his wand and left.

Helga stayed by Rowena's side, taking note of any bruises and abrasions that she may have suffered by the failed spell. "You had better not move," she said gently. "We have no way to know whether this has gone without internal injury. I'll have the Knights carry you to the Loch when they're done with Gregory. Is there a Healer in the village, Ceridwen?"

Godric's mother, who was speaking quietly with Deiniol and Rhys, knelt beside the two women. "Yes, though not a very talented one. He'll do, I think. You don't seem to have any external damage, my dear Rowena, but Helga is right. I don't want you moving as yet. We'll take you to Angus first thing in the morning."

Then she got up again and resumed her conversation with the two men.

"Are you going to tell him?" Helga asked softly, looking directly into her eyes.

"Tell who what?" Rowena answered evasively, knowing only too well what Helga meant.

"Tell Godric, of course," Helga replied with exaggerated calm.

"Tell him what?"

"Rowena!"

"Honestly, I don't know what you're talking about."

"The day I'd believe that is the day I see Ambrosius dancing in front of the entire magic community wearing only his undergarments. I'll ask this just once more. Are you going to tell Godric now how you feel towards him?"

Rowena lowered her eyes, refusing to look at her friend. Helga always knew how to read her most covert secrets.

"I don't feel anything towards him," she denied, and then, knowing that Helga would not let her be otherwise, she feigned a swoon and fell back, closing her eyes and stifling a grunt as she hit the ground again.

She could hear Ceridwen letting out a surprised cry and felt the earth around her shudder as the older woman, Rhys and Deiniol knelt again beside her next to Helga.

"She's not well," Helga said for the others to hear, but then her mouth was next to Rowena's ear, and Rowena could clearly hear her whisper, "You and I are not finished yet, Raven. I know that you're faking. I'll get this out of you at another time - don't you dare thinking I let you off the hook."

After a few minutes had passed, Rowena allowed herself to blink her eyes open and groan loudly. She did not think Helga believed any of that, but it was the best she could do on such a short notice.

"Are you feeling better, Mistress Ravenclaw?" Sir Deiniol asked as she raised herself slightly.

"Y...yes. I think I do. Are the others here?"

"No, not quite. But we heard them thrashing about in the trees ahead. From the sounds I'd say that they've got Gregory."

"Good," she said in a hard voice. "I'd like to have a few words with Master Gregory before they kill him."

"Ah!" she then heard Helga. "You're awake! I believe the men are coming back now."

Rowena did not miss the hard look the other woman sent her way.

A few moments later, the six men entered the enclosure, dragging behind them the limp body of Marcus Gregory, making sure his head would skim the ground and bump against every stone and tree root hidden in the damp earth.

Salazar was keeping a tight hold on Godric's arm. Godric himself looked a little unwell, but his eyes were angry. His expression, however, softened noticeably as he spotted her.

"Rowena! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" he said, nearly weeping in relief.

"Well, if I'm a sight for sore eyes, then you are what made them sore in the first place," she said snidely. She had no idea what caused her to say that, but it did not look as though he minded.

He knelt beside her and hugged her tightly. She stiffened. It was the first time he had touched her in something that was more than a restraining hand or a friendly clap on the shoulder.

It was not unpleasant.

She let out a squeak of pain as his arms squeezed her. He immediately let go.

"What's the matter?" he asked sharply.

"We still don't know, dear," Ceridwen said calmly. "We're taking her to the Loch and from there to Angus' first thing in the morning. She'll be fine, I warrant, but we had better make sure. Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes," he muttered, still searching Rowena's face for anything out of the ordinary.

She averted her eyes, only to meet the cunning expression of Salazar's eyes. He was up to something.

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As she was carried on an improvised stretcher made of a few cloaks and held between four men, Rowena did not stop talking. She felt sharp pains in her abdomen and in the region of her rib cage, and even though she had little background in Healing she knew that this was not a good sign. By talking she managed to keep her mind off the pain, and apart of that, she had to make sure that Godric would not do something foolish again.

"Salazar?" she called to her friend, whom she knew what holding one of the corners of the stretcher.

"Yes, Rowena?" he asked in a voice that mirrored his concern.

"Oh, don't worry yourself over nothing. I'm sure I'm all right - I hardly feel any pain," she lied. "What is Godric doing?"

"He's lurking near Gregory. I had Rhys keep an eye on him - he wouldn't do anything that will cause himself harm."

"How is he faring?"

"Well enough. I don't think he will collapse anytime soon, but Rhys is also keeping an eye on him in this aspect. If he sees him so much as blink the wrong way he will put him to sleep and they will carry him the rest of the way. We're not too far from the village, though, so he should make it in one piece."

"I'm sorry I'm such a bother. I can walk by myself, you know. You don't have to carry me."

"Rowena..." he said in what could at best be described as a hard tone, "I don't believe you, so stop it. You're in a lot of pain. I can see it in your face."

She grimaced. "I am not."

All she got in response was an indignant silence.

"When shall we begin the new tutoring year?" she asked, again attempting to ignore the pain.

"First of all you have to get well, Raven," Helga's voice said dryly from her left. "You cannot expect to teach in this state."

"Nonsense," she said airily. "I'll be back on my feet in hours."

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"Bed rest for three weeks," the scruffy man named Angus said with finality.

"Impossible," Rowena said angrily, trying to get up but finding herself being firmly kept down by the Healer. "I have things to do."

"Those things can either wait or be done from bed," he said in a voice that brook no argument. "If you do not rest then there will be irrevocable damage to your rib cage and various internal organs. I will have certain potions prepared for you. You must take precise amounts of them as I will prescribe. Now lean back and rest."

Grumbling, she did as ordered. She had attempted leaving the bed a few times that night, only to discover that there was someone nearby at all times to prevent her doing just that. They had woken her very early in the morning and loaded her on the improvised stretcher again. She felt like a cripple, and did not like that one bit.

Once Angus the Healer had brewed his potions, he handed them to Godric, who looked much better after a night of good sleep and two big meals, and instructed her friends in the amounts she must receive.

Then they moved her unto a borrowed cart and freighted her back to the house.

"You know," she said acidly to Godric who did not leave her side for a moment, "you were the one we were supposed to carry home in pieces - not I."

He smiled, though his smile was only half-hearted.

"What did you do with Gregory?" she pressed. She knew fully well that the Knights had taken the unconscious man somewhere right after they had placed her in Rhys' house under Lleulu's and Helga's care. She had no idea what they did with him, however.

His semi-smile turned into a full-fledged wolfish grin. "Don't worry about that, Rowena," he said, suddenly cheerful. "We took care of that mongrel. He will not be bothering us again."

He refused to say another thing, no matter how much she attempted coaxing him.

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Rowena made the best out of her three weeks of forced rest. From the room she shared with Helga, restricted to her bed, she issued a string of commands concerning the future of the school.

Sitting up in bed, she conducted whole discussions concerning the lesson plans for each subject they would teach, sat with Salazar over the plans of the Castle, of the things still needed to be built, played Wizard's Chess against Helga and screamed at Godric who was usually to be found on the other side of the house.

They had accomplished much in those days, even though she was reluctant to admit it. She hated every minute she was kept in bed, and started loathing the mere sight of the walls of her bedchamber.

When Helga finally proclaimed the three weeks over, Rowena shot out of bed like an arrow and ran outside, whirling round and round and laughing like a little girl, caring little of the impression she made.

Behind her she could hear her friends laughing. She stopped her mad twirl and glared at them haughtily. "I can make a fool of myself if I wish so," she said, sniffing.

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In what felt like no time at all, the summer season ended and all children were no longer employed in the various family businesses, giving them the time needed to study again.

On the first day of the second schooling year, the four friends could accompany their students all the way from and to the village without fearing detection. Now that they were a legitimate part of the Loch's society, everything seemed to be easier. They could get their supplies in broad daylight from the center of the village, and could be often found discussing all matters - from studies to reaping fields - in Calanthe's tavern or next to the smithy.

What did not grow easier, however, was the teaching itself. When Rowena came on that first day to escort the children to the house, she was greatly surprised to discover that she had over forty children on her hands. The chatter was unbelievably loud and she started fearing that they would not be able to handle so many students when only two of them taught every day.

It was hard, to say the least. They soon found out that when the two women were the ones teaching, then the boys would take it as a sign to make noise and stop the process of studying. Even Dahlia's sons and Rhys' sons joined the mayhem, though in the year before their behaviour was impeccable.

They also discovered that when it was Godric's and Salazar's turn, then the girls will hush up and pretend to be shy.

In an act of desperation, the four decided that they needed to change tactic, and so it was that Rowena found herself teaching alongside Godric one day when autumn was just showing its first colours.

It was a stifling hot day, and Rowena was in a bad mood. Helga and Salazar had insisted on drawing straws again in order to decide who was to teach with whom. It was only her bad luck, she felt, that had caused her to be stuck with Godric on a day she found it hard to put a lid on her temper.

The day started out rather well. They sorted the children into groups by their age, and set a task for each. The younger ones were given some simple Charms to practice, while the older ones gathered around Godric to study the rudimentary rules of Phoenix Lore. Those students who had studied with him during the previous year helped him demonstrate.

It was then that the accident happened. Rowena was with her back turned to Godric, patiently helping a teary eleven year old in doing a simple levitation spell. She was so busy with that, that she missed hearing the dull thump and the scared intake of breath. She did hear the scream that followed, though.

Terrified of what might have happened, she whirled around with her wand drawn. When she realized what she was seeing, she rushed over to the almost petrified students who were gathered around their fallen friend.

"Move!" she said harshly, pushing through them and kneeling beside Goronwy, Sir Rhys' son, who was writhing on the ground, clutching at his bleeding arm, a practice sword stained red by his side. She never had much success with Healing Charms, but Helga was too far off, and she feared that by the time someone would get her, Goronwy would lose too much blood.

Godric was already at work, tying a bit of cloth he had torn off the edge of his tunic tightly around the boy's upper arm, to stop the bleeding.

Muttering things that she probably should not have said near such young, impressionable children, Rowena touched her wand to the gaping wound and applied the most basic Healing Charm she knew. Luckily enough, it worked, catching her much by surprise.

After the crisis was taken care of, she had waited until the children went home for the day, Goronwy with his arm in a sling, clutching a letter full to the brim with apologies and explanations for Sir Rhys, to have a little talk with Godric.

"What were you thinking?" she hissed, stopping him just outside the house. "How could you have been so irresponsible?"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, though his eyes shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm talking about letting them play with those bloody swords! Someone could have lost a limb - or worse! Killed!"

"You're exaggerating, Rowena. You do that a lot, you know that?"

"Exaggerating, am I?" she said scornfully. "Then how would you explain this little 'accident' we had today? You were in charge of that group! And you let Goronwy get hurt! He could have lost that arm, do you realize that?"

"He wouldn't have lost the arm. You're always making such a fuss over everything."

"Fuss? Fuss? Godric, we are responsible for the lives of these children when they are under our care! This could have been so much more serious!"

"But it wasn't, now was it?" he gritted. "Stop your self-righteousness, Rowena. You're not better than me in any way. I see you letting the children under your care experiment-"

"With simple Charms!" she burst, throwing all pretenses to the winds, no longer keeping her voice down. "I let them experiment with simple, not harmful Charms! Not swords, Godric! Never swords!"

"You're so full of yourself!" he shouted, also losing his temper. "You're so sure that you're the best thing that these children are ever going to have! You think that you're a better teacher than the rest of us and you're sure that you could have done better without us!

"Well, guess what, Mistress Ravenclaw - you are nothing without us! You are a petty woman who keeps grudges and delves into dislike long dissipated. You wrap old hurt around you like a man would wrap a mantel! Grow up, will you? People don't like self-righteous women like you who think they are Merlin's gift to the world!

"You are nothing but a woman. There are dozens others of your kind - and I could go anywhere to get someone else. Do you understand what I'm saying, Rowena? Do you?"

He was so close to her, his breath so warm against her face as he drew nearer and nearer until all she could see were his cold blue eyes. He seemed to search something in her face, but after a while in silence he drew back.

"No," he said in disgust. "I now see that you have no idea what I'm talking about. I have wasted my words. Grow up, Rowena. Grow up." And with those words he left in the direction of the Castle and Helga and Salazar who were still at work there.

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She would not cry. No matter how hurt she was, she would not cry.

But the tears did not stop flowing, leaking from her eyes even though she tried her best to dam them in.

She sat in her bedroom, on the bed, and stared determinedly at the open window.

It was stifling hot inside the house, worse than the outside, and she wanted nothing more that go up to the much cooler castle. But he was there now, putting the finishing touches to the last tower they had to complete, most likely. She did not wish to see him right now.

But then, why would she be the one to hide her face? He was the one who said all those awful things. He was the one in the wrong. He should have been more careful, more watchful.

And the tears went on flowing.

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"You need a symbol," Ceridwen told them one evening when she and the others arrived at the Castle for their weekly meeting.

"A symbol?" Godric asked, frowning at his mother's words.

Rowena wanted to know the same thing, but agreeing with Godric would mean having to talk to him, and she had successfully avoided doing that for over a month. She waited for Ceridwen to explain herself.

"Last year someone mentioned something in passing - I think it was Brendan - that the groups that will come, once we manage to have their cooperation, will need to be gathered under one banner. Your banner. And right now, well, you don't have a banner. We're more or less stuck on the matter of the groups - they need us to prove ourselves-"

"Oh, we've taken care of that little obstacle," Salazar said with a rather ugly expression on his face.

"Oh?"

Rowena noticed that the five Knights who had helped in the rescue a few months earlier were also grinning evilly.

"Well, let's just say that we made sure that when Ambrosius' underlings found Marcus Gregory, there were enough people around to get word to those who also resist the Council. I'd expect messages to arrive soon enough. They are sometimes slow, but it'll come to them. They will want our help, Ceridwen. Don't worry."

She smiled. "Good. Then as I was saying, as this is more or less of a stalemate, we can think about those lesser matters for the time being. So please, think it over."

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"Well, it's easy for Rowena," Godric said after the village people left, "but what about the rest of us?"

"Pray tell," she said angrily, speaking to him directly for the first time in a month, "why is it easier for me?"

"Because your family already has a symbol, Rowena dear. Do you forget you father's coat of arms?"

"The eagle?" she said skeptically.

"Yes, the eagle."

"A bronze eagle on a blue background?"

"Why not?" Salazar butted in." Blue is your favourite colour, isn't it?"

"I suppose so."

"Salazar's easy, too," Helga said.

"Oh?" Salazar asked mildly.

"Well, you're a Parselmouth, aren't you? Make it a snake."

Salazar closed his eyes, and Rowena thought it looked as though he was trying to picture his coat of arms. After a while of silent thinking, a smile spread on his face. "Why not?" he asked. "And I'll take the colours of my line. Silver and green. It should have a very nice effect."

"I have one for Godric," Rowena said with a grin. "I have a riddle for you my, friends. What is imprudently brave, outrageously boastful, and extremely protective?"

"Hey!" Godric exclaimed. "That's not fair! I didn't insult you, now did I?"

"It wasn't meant as an insult, Godric," she replied, placating him, deciding that the month of silence was good enough a punishment. "I was merely reliving your run after Gregory last summer without a wand and in a weakened state. I think it's quite appropriate."

"I don't follow your reasoning, Rowena," Salazar admitted. "What kind of beast is it?"

"Why, a lion, of course," she replied cheerfully. "They are very brave, boastful of their power and very protective of their territory. Oh," she then added almost as an afterthought. "They also let their females do the hunting for them, the lazy things. I think they'd have them cooking their food for them - if only they knew how to cook." She gave Godric a cheery grin.

He growled threateningly, but his eyes showed otherwise. He liked the idea.

"Scarlet and gold, I think," Salazar said finally, again with his eyes closed. "Your line's colours, and besides, lions are golden - it fits perfectly. And besides - you do own a few lion-marked trinkets. Rowena - I proclaim you a genius!"

They still had to find something for Helga, and that proved to be difficult. She was not of a noble line, so she had no coat of arms nor did she have hereditary colours. They all sat around the table, pondering that problem for a while.

"All right," Godric said. "We three have animals as our symbols, right? So most likely Helga's should be an animal as well. It's a bit simpler if we think about it this way. What can Helga be described as?"

"Err... friendly?" Salazar offered. Rowena caught a certain glance between the two and saw Helga blushing. She felt her lips curl into a smile.

"Sweet," she added.

"Good-natured."

"Loyal."

"Protective."

"Perceptive."

"Bloody stubborn."

"Are we finally admitting something about ourselves, Rowena?"

"Shut it, Godric."

"Why stubborn?" Salazar asked with a frown. "Helga is the most placating, quiet and self-effacing person I know. She never insists - much."

Rowena snorted. "You're blinded by your own heart, Salazar," she said. "May I remind you that you did not want Helga to accompany us to begin with? She managed to come all the same, did she not? When she wants something, our sweet little friend has a will of iron."

"That aside," Helga interrupted, her cheeks red, "that brings us no closer to finding me a symbol."

"Maybe we should offer you animals?" Godric asked. "How about a gazelle?"

"Too cowardly. Helga is no coward," Rowena countered. "A dove, perhaps?"

"Too timid," Salazar said, shaking his head. "A bear?"

"No. That's horrible. A fish?"

"That's disgusting, Godric. A fox?"

"It's simply not-"

"Enough!" Helga cried. "That's quite enough, thank you. Frankly, I don't care if my symbol is a rabbit, or an earthworm or a... or a... or a badger, for all I care! I don't care. I just want us to have a school coat of arms already so that we can unite our allies under one banner. Can we please get on with it?"

The other three exchanged glances.

"Fierce when angered," Godric said.

"I told you she was stubborn," Rowena said with a grin.

"But what of the colours?" Salazar asked.

"Well," Godric frowned, gazing at the confused Helga, "the animal's black, isn't it?"

"Black and white," Rowena corrected. "It's striped, but I suppose that in the banner it can be just black. True physical appearances do not matter much in heraldry, as far as I can see. What about the background?"

"Yellow," Salazar said with finality. "Like the colour of her hair."

"What are you all talking about?" Helga demanded.

Rowena almost laughed at her friend's discomfort. "Why, about your coat of arms, of course. Didn't you just say that you wanted a badger? I think we're done for tonight then. Come along, Helga. Let us go to sleep."

And with that she swept her confused friend with her to their rooms.

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By the time the snows set in that year, Salazar had finally planned and drawn the final version of Hogwarts' coat of arms. It had taken him a long time, longer than she had first estimated. He was often found at the hall up at the Castle, scribbling furiously and then crumpling the parchments he had been working on and throwing them as far as he could.

The Castle itself was mostly completed by that time. There were no longer open roofs through which snow could come in. Not everything inside was prepared, though. There were still dungeons to repair, flights of stairs to complete and many rooms to furnish. However, as the winter snows became deeper and the little house made them all feel cramped and closed off, they made a decision.

And so, while Salazar was still firmly attached to one of the benches in the council chamber, drawing and redrawing, the other three furnished a few rooms for their own use and moved all their personal effects to the Castle. They had abandoned the house and planned on making the Castle a habitable place during those weeks when the heavy snow did not allow their students to come.

When Salazar came to them with the complete drawing, Rowena, Godric and Helga were busily converting the huge space beneath the council chamber into kitchens. They assumed that they would have many students in the future, and that was the deciding matter in choosing the cavernous room for that use.

"I've completed our coat of arms!" Salazar came bounding through the door, waving his parchment aloft. He halted when he saw the big brick fireplace they were constructing. "What in Merlin's name is that?"

"This, my dear Salazar," Helga said with a smile, "is the kitchen. You were going to feed all those children that will come to study in Hogwarts, weren't you?"

He grimaced, but did not have the opportunity to say anything, for Rowena took advantage of his preoccupation to snatch his newest work of art from his hands.

Her eyes grew wide when she saw the results of so many weeks of work.

Around a large, elaborate H, were four animals, each in its own boundary within the shape of a shield: A golden Lion on a scarlet background, a silver Serpent on a green background, a bronze Eagle on a blue background, and finally a black Badger on a yellow background.

Beneath the shield there was a legend written in Latin.

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus.

She looked up from the parchment with a raised eyebrow. "Never tickle a sleeping dragon?"

He shrugged with a bright smile on his face. "It never hurt to enter a piece of wisdom into coats of arms, now did it? Would you tickle a sleeping dragon?"

"You would not find me getting near a dragon, Salazar - ever."

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Rowena and Godric's relationship suffered a great drop as the year went on. No matter what they did, they always ended up fighting. Even the most casual remark often ended in an uproarious fight.

Rowena did not understand why she was doing that. She would tease Godric, or insult him, and he in return would flirt outrageously with Calanthe when they entered her tavern. After he did that, she could not stop herself from making snide remarks, that made his face cloud over and then verbal fights would ensue. Then they would not talk to each other for a long while. Then it would all start over again, and she did not know how to stop it. She simply did not.

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"-You stupid, arrogant pig!" Rowena screeched.

"It's not like you are any better!" Godric shouted, his face growing red.

"Not better, am I?" she growled. Deep inside she knew that what she was about to do next would be real trouble, but she was simply too angry, too insulted to stop herself. "I'll tell you what makes me a better person than you are, Godric Gryffindor!

"For one, I am not a notorious drunkard who can't hold her ale. For another, I am not the one often seen in the tavern groping that - that slut of a tavern wench - any given time.

"I'm not the one making a fool of myself on constant occasion! I'm not the one who has the image of a buffoon in the Loch! I'm not the one who is content wallowing in the mud with the pigs at the end of an evening! I'm not the one who comes home late every night, reeking of ale and spoilt foods, singing loudly for the entire world to hear!

"You are a slimy idiot with the brains of a bird, who thinks he is all high and mighty because he is the heir of Gawain Gryffindor!

"So let me tell you something. You are nothing but a stain on your family tree. You shame your father's name and you are not worthy to carry the surname of Gryffindor! You are-"

She did not get to finish the sentence, for at that moment, Godric said in a low, deadly voice, "All you are about to tell me now, Rowena, you say about yourself. Spare me your need of self-bashing. Grow up." And with that he turned on his heel and left, his shoulders shaking in some suppressed emotion.

Rowena stared after him for a while and then ran away, whimpering.

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There was a knock on the door. It was more than a sharp rap than anything else, and it conveyed the meaning of the one behind the door. This person meant business.

Rowena mumbled a quiet, "Come in."

The one to enter was Helga, whose face was like a thundercloud, dark and menacing.

"I hope you're pleased with what you have done, Rowena," she said, turning on Rowena the moment she entered the comfortable room they had built on the ground floor for them all to sit and simply enjoy evenings there, where Rowena had taken refuge after her fight with Godric.

"What are you talking about?" Rowena muttered bitterly, hugging one of the frilly pillows Helga liked so much to her chest.

"I'm talking about the things you said to Godric," Helga snapped. "That's what I'm talking about! What else could it be, Rowena? You made the poor man so depressed - I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to simply die after the things you said!"

"Godric would never do that," Rowena scoffed. "He's sensible."

"Sensible, my arse!" Helga cried. It was this more than anything else that made Rowena sit up straight and stare at her friend. Helga never cursed. "He's in love with you, you foolish girl! He's loved you for so long that I can't even pinpoint the moment I first noticed it! And you! You feel the same and you never allow him to see that! You've both been miserable for ages, snapping at each other and snapping at us, hurting each other more and more, and not once did you admit your real feelings to each other!

"Well, I have had it!" Helga's voice rose to a near screech. "Godric has just stormed off now and if he does something idiotic just because of the things you said, then I will never, ever forgive you! Do you understand? Never!"

Rowena was appalled. She had never seen her friend act like this, Helga was angry with her many times before, but never like this. And what was worse, she knew that the other woman was right. She knew that she should have spoken with Godric before, but her pride did not let her say anything.

"Where is he?" she finally asked, fearing the answer.

"Outside," Helga replied coldly. "Probably catching his death in this rain."

Letting out a muffled cry of alarm, Rowena jumped out of her seat and dashed out of the room in the direction of the entrance hall and the grounds. Behind her she could hear Helga desperately shouting, "Wait! Take your cloak!" but ignored her. The corridor leading from the room to the entrance hall never seemed longer. As she ran down it, she felt as though it had lasted for hours.

Finally she broke into the hall, nearly slipped on the cold stones as she whirled right sharply and bolted out of the open doors. She skidded into a halt on the slippery, wet cobblestones of the grand entrance and looked around, squinting to keep the rain out of her eyes. It was hard to keep her eyes open, because the wind that howled around her made her want to squeeze them shut. But she had to find him before something would happen.

She saw nothing. The lake, a sheet of steely-grey, was the only clear thing she could recognize. The forest was a hazy, dark mass against the cast sky, and the falling rain obscured everything else.

"Godric!" she screamed. "Godric!"

When she received no answer, Rowena half ran, half slipped down towards the lake, screaming his name against the howling gale every few steps.

Tears streamed from her eyes, warm and salty, mingling with the cold drops of rain that fell on her face and drenched her dress and hair. The wind released her hair from its careful binds, slapping it against her face with force. It snagged the hem of her skirt on rocks and thorns and torn it into tatters. Her dress was muddy and wet as it clung to her flesh, but she did not care. She had to find Godric, and she had to find him immediately.

"Godric!" she cried again, her voice cracked and choked with tears.

Without warning, someone grabbed her arm. A big hand clapped around her wrist.

"Rowena!" Godric roared over the scream of the wind. "What are you doing? Out here in the rain with no cloak? Come on!"

Numbly, she let him drag her along. She had no idea where they were. She knew they were not that far from the Castle, but he was not taking her uphill.

Then they were in front of their old house. Godric wrestled the door open and pushed her inside, and then firmly set her on a stack of hay and scurried off. Only then, when she was out of the rain and wind, did she realize just how wet and cold she was. She started shivering.

In the back she could hear Godric muttering profanities as he did something in what used to be their kitchen. When he came back, he again unceremoniously took hold of her arm and pulled her up, dragging her into the other room.

"Sit," he ordered gruffly, and as she obeyed, she saw that he had lit a fire in the grate. He settled himself beside her and stared at the flames. For a while she shivered uncontrollably. Once the shivers subsided, however, he took his gaze away from the fire and started scolding her.

"What were you thinking, Rowena?" he asked in the same gruff tone. "Out in the rain, with no coat or cloak? Without your wand? Just in what can be at best called your nightshift? You could have frozen to death if I had not found you! You could have died, Rowena, did you even realize that? If Helga hadn't come and told me you ran off-"

Rowena, suddenly in control again, flared. "Helga? Helga told me that you stormed off after our-" her voice died out.

"That's preposterous!" he exclaimed. "Helga knew perfectly well that Salazar and I were in the tower. She-"

"They tricked us," Rowena said angrily. "They wanted us to talk again after our... our... our..." She could not bring herself to say it.

"Our what, Rowena?" he asked softly. "Can't you even say it? Our fight."

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. For a few minutes she was certain that she had lost him forever. She was sure that he had been swept into the lake or froze to death, or any number of unpleasant ends. For a few minutes she thought she had lost everything because of a foolish fight. She looked at him, his face still wet, his eyes gleaming in the firelight.

"I don't want to believe that you'd be foolish enough as to run off into a storm like that over nothing," he said softly, his voice barely over a whisper. He slowly raised his hand and touched it to her cheek. His thumb caressed her skin, rough and callused against it. She did not want him to let go.

"Rowena..." he began, his hand slowly withdrawing, sadness in his eyes.

"Godric," she said firmly, all former anger, worry and tears gone, "do I have to do everything around here by myself?"

Smiling softly at his obvious confusion, she held his face between her palms, and closed the distance between them.

For a moment Godric sat frozen as her lips met his own, but before she could start wondering whether she had misinterpreted his meaning, his lips softened over hers and returned the gesture.

She felt his arms leaving his sides and wrapping themselves around her.

For the first time in a very long while, Rowena Ravenclaw was happy.

No cliffies, no drama. Just a little bit of fluff :) Hope you liked it.

Thank you to all of you who read this story, and to those who reviewed:

CootiePatootie: Glad you liked them! But you've missed the entire point of a cliifhanger! ;) Oh, well, at least you had a smooth reading... Yep. Raven Lord's sure is one of my favourite characters. He's really fun, I'll have you know - 'specially as a boy. I certainly hope this chapter answered that last question of yours! :)

Kitt: Oh, yes, little Marcus certainly is a scum. He doesn't die, but I promise he suffered - greatly - and will suffer for the rest of his life - even if the Knights didn't get to kill him :) And, as you can see, little 'Wena is more than all right now!

Tbmsand: okay, so it was a tad obvious that Rowena didn't die, but she did get a nasty wound from that curse. She was supposed to die, but Gregory is too damn incompetent. You'll find out exactly what had happened to him in about... four chapters, I think. The founders just broke through his wards. He's a very weak person. Raven Lord, I'm sorry to say, though a great warrior, was years out of practice, not to mention that he was outnumbered - he alone against an entire village... I hope you liked him though!

And that is it for this time! Thank you all and wait until next week's update!