Tale of a Time Long Gone

A/N: Hellooooooooooooooo! Hope you all had a very nice week :) I got great responses to the last chapter, so I certainly hope this one will be up to par!

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

In this chapter: Rowena and Godric get back at the scheming pair, house-elves galore, a spy in the Council, and - oh, my! Who on earth is that? An old character comes by for a visit...

Enjoy!

Chapter 17 - Schemes

"The division of Hogwarts into four Houses was made quite early on. It was decided upon when it became apparent that each Founder favoured certain students and preferred working with them. It also became harder for all four to rule over a growing number of children.

"Therefore, before the fourth year of the school's existence, the four decided that each of them will pick part of the students and they will take care of them, make sure they do their homework and if not - be punished.

"They had also decided that if any student needed help or had a complaint to lodge, they will need to go to their personal tutor. This system shall be discussed in detail in the chapter dedicated to the school's management through the years.

"In that selfsame time, the Founders were faced by yet another obstacle, and this time, it was in an entirely different front. Once they managed to settle their alliance with the various groups opposing Lord Ambrosius and his minions and began the rudimentary stages of preparing for war, it became obvious that they needed inside information of the goings of the Council. This, naturally, was much harder a task than any other they had encountered up to that stage.

"The Founders ruled out bribery right at the onset, for they surmised that one who can be bought will not necessarily remain bought if better payment is offered.

"They could not count on patriotism, either, for in their eyes all members were now corrupt and completely devoted to their own enjoyments.

"What was left then? The members of the Council were out of the question, as were the Servants, for they, unlike Godric and Salazar, were not strong enough to throw the will of the Council.

"Only one option was therefore left for the Founders..."

- Hogwarts, A History; Author unknown

The fire crackled pleasantly in the hearth at Helga's room. The room was very comfortable and welcoming. The stone walls were covered by golden sheepskins in order to restrain the cold that they always radiated, but Helga swore to herself that one day it would have tapestries and not crude bits of animals - and if not, well, a few warming charms were always an option. Similar skins were on the floor. Heavy, dull-red, velvety curtains hung closed over the shuttered windows. The wind howled and banged against the shutters, causing Helga to snuggle closer to Salazar on the low divan in front of the fire.

"It's rather sinister, isn't it?" she murmured, shivering slightly.

He merely made a grunting sound and held her tightly to him.

Outside, the rain started pounding with force. It was a horrible day to be outside, rainy and dark, with random thunder and lightening at times. The wind was like knives against the skin and it was bitingly cold. Helga was glad she was inside by the fire.

All of a sudden, something occurred to her. "Err... Salazar? You don't suppose Godric hasn't found Raven as yet, do you?"

By her side, Salazar stretched. "No, I don't suppose that. Godric is a good tracker, and he shouldn't have any problem finding her. I'm sure he has her back in the Castle by now. Don't be so worried."

Somewhat reassured, she settled back down and closed her eyes. It was so nice and warm, and she felt safe in the arms of a man she knew loved her.

The evening wore on, and Helga dozed through it, quite content to stay there forever - a state of mind which survived not even a minute after the fire died down in the grate.

"We're out of firewood," Salazar grunted, stirring awake and glancing at the open box by the wall.

"Again?" she whined. "We just had them filled yesterday!"

Sitting up, no longer feeling in a mood to laze about, Helga folded her legs up and put her chin to her knees, her brow furrowed. In the past month they wasted a lot of time on chopping wood and hauling it up to the Castle. Even with magic it took time. They needed that time for other things, and there was simply nothing they could do about that. Or was there?

"Salazar?" she called softly, noticing that he was already dozing again.

"Hmm?"

"We need help."

His eyes opened and he frowned. "What are you talking about, Helga? Is there something wrong with us?"

She stared at him and then laughed. "I'm not talking about us us, Salazar. I'm talking about help around the Castle. We waste so much time on manual works, when we could use that time to do things for the students, the school and the rebellion. We need someone to do the cooking, to clean up, to chop wood - all these tasks that bother us daily."

"Then we hire a few people at the village, what's the problem?"

"It will not do. We need to think larger than that. This is a big Castle, and when we have it all good and proper, with dormitories for the children, and three meals a day, and classes, and privies and everything, few people will not be able to be all that much help."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

Helga shrugged helplessly. She had no idea what could be done. Of course, they could hire help at the village - but what could they offer their workers? They did not have anything to offer but their teaching skills, and not all the people in the village had children or were interested in their services. They would need a lot of workers - cooks, maids, laundresses, gardeners... there was too much work to dispense. Also, human beings demanded payment for their services - Merlin, she knew that all too well - so they needed to find those who would ask for the littlest amount as they did not have much to give.

Staring blankly at the wall for a while, examining the crevices between the stones they had piled up themselves, she tried to think it over. They needed someone with creative thinking. Then she almost laughed. The answer was in the question.

"I'll go tomorrow to the village and have a word with Ceridwen. I'm sure she can come up with a few ideas."

"Very well, but I suggest we all go - and Rowena and Godric should be told about it as well. Goodnight, Helga," he said with a smile and got up. "I had better go to my room. I'm sure Godric is already there, ready to shout at me for manipulating him."

She chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised to see Rowena at the door this minute, steaming at me. Ah, well. Goodnight."

He smiled again, kissed her softly and left.

Rowena never appeared at Helga's door that night. Neither did she show her face the next morning when Helga entered the kitchens for a spot of breakfast. In fact, it was well after the sun started rising above the still-dark clouds that hovered over the Castle when she had finally appeared, and by then Helga was mentally kicking herself, worrying endlessly about what might have happened to her friend out in the storm. She could not believe that she had been as stupid as that. For all she knew, Rowena could have fallen into the lake accidentally and drowned. Therefore, when the auburn haired woman finally walked into the entrance hall squelching water all over the polished flagstones out of her sodden shoes, her hair a complete mess and with bits of straw in it and all over her dress, Helga immediately threw herself at the other woman, mumbling apologies.

"Ooh, Raven, are you all right? I was so worried!"

"Worried? You?" Rowena said scornfully. "You, who practically threw me out into the storm in order to look for someone who was safely up in the tower with Salazar, dry and entirely all right? You were worried?"

"Umm..." Helga did not know what to say. Something felt immensely wrong. Rowena was angry, and she admittedly had all the reasons in the world to be angry, but something was not quite right. Was it a twinkle of mirth in those hazel eyes? Were those lips quirking into a light, barely noticeable smirk? What was Rowena playing at? Anxious, Helga started feeling her face and hair, looking for something wrong. She just knew Rowena had done something for revenge. Did she charm her hair a different colour? Did she change the shape of her nose? Everything seemed to be in place, so why did Helga feel sure that something was terribly wrong?

It was only when Rowena started laughing, and then doubled over with the force of it that Helga realized that the joke was on her. Rowena was not angry at all. In fact, she was in very high spirits, and the moment she calmed down, she gave Helga a warm hug.

"Merlin knows, I should hex you into Hades and back for what you and that wretched Salazar did, but I find myself in a position where I must forgive, if not forget," Rowena said with a smile.

"Then... then it worked? Did you... resolve your differences?"

"You could say that," Rowena's smirk widened. "But I don't know what about Godric's and Salazar's differences."

"Pardon?"

Rowena nodded at something behind Helga's back. The younger girl turned and a scream froze in her throat. In the middle of the grand staircase stood Godric, his wand pointed upwards. He was twirling Salazar around like a rag doll in the air, making shapes of numbers and runes with the poor man.

"I'm afraid he was rather angered when he realized we've been fooled," behind her Rowena said calmly. "He would thank him later, of course, but right now he's quite happy to take his revenge." Then she turned, and with a cheery hum, she turned away from Helga in the general direction of her chambers.

Quite a few hours, one dizziness-countering potion, and one rather wobbly journey to the Loch later, the four friends were seated in Rhys' kitchen while Ceridwen was making some tea and Lleulu was cutting a freshly baked cake for them. Sir Rhys was busy laughing at a still dazed Salazar's predicament, and Ceridwen was not-too-secretly overjoyed with the fact that her son and the girl she held in such high esteem finally admitted to be fond of each other.

"So what is it that you needed this time?" Rhys asked pleasantly once he deemed to have laughed at Salazar's expense for long enough. "We would have told you if we had anything new. We still haven't managed contacting anyone with inside knowledge of the Council, so there's nothing more to do than follow the movements of the Chamber Guard and the Servants."

"Yes, we know that," Godric said rather sourly. "It's getting to be quite depressing, if you ask me."

"Think about it this way, dear," Ceridwen said, releasing Lleulu to spend time with her husband, "they are just as depressed as we are. They don't have much more information about you than we have about them - not since we got rid of Gregory, anyway. So if it isn't information, then what is it?"

Godric looked at Salazar and Helga. "Would one of you do the honours?"

Helga spoke before Salazar could so much as open his mouth. After all, it was her idea, and for once she wanted some of the acknowledgment. "Salazar and I noticed that we spend more time on manual works needed to maintain a reasonable level of quality in the Castle than on actually teaching or actively working on the rebellion - you have been doing most of the work for us in that aspect. We need help, but we cannot hire people or more than a few people anyway, we simply don't have the resources. We thought we would have a word with you - see if you can come up with something."

The two looked at one another, considering her words.

"Well..." Rhys finally said. "You could always use cleaning charms that last longer. I know that Rowena works on new charms at times, so maybe it could be your next project?"

Rowena shook her head dejectedly. "It would take a very long time, and besides, it still takes time, and we still have to cook noon meals for the children or bring in wood for the fires. It just would not do."

They all lapsed into silence again. Helga, however, kept her eyes on Ceridwen. The older woman always had strange and often logical solutions for their problems. There was no reason why she would not come up with something this time. For the time being, Ceridwen closed her eyes, deep lines etched in her forehead as she frowned over the problem. When she reached a conclusion, it was like watching the sun come out of a dark blanket of clouds. The lines of thought disappeared entirely, her eyes opened wide, and a bright smile appeared on her lips.

"It might be a little hard to actually do," she said cautiously, catching everyone's attention, "but it is possible. Have any of you heard of House Elves?"

There was a general shaking of heads and a collective frown as Ceridwen went on.

"They are a small group of magical beings. There are not many of them - couple hundred in the entire island - a few more in Ireland, but nothing major. They live in small communities all over the country and their sole enjoyment in life is to serve humans. We could procure a few of those and everything will be easier on you. They have their own particular magic which enables them to do a great amount of work with only a little bit of effort. They would be perfect."

"Where did you hear about them?" Rowena asked with interest shinning from her eyes. Helga almost laughed. Her friend looked like a child offered a sweet.

"I was a member of a very important family, my dear Rowena. House Elves can be afforded by only the richest of families. They are very valuable."

"Then how are we supposed to get hold of a few?" Godric grumbled.

"I have some contacts," she replied earnestly. "They might be willing to give them in return for free education for their children, but they would probably refuse if they do not receive board for the school year. They can hardly be expected to have their children traveling back and forth all the time. I'll make the arrangements, if you would like, but start thinking about sleeping quarters for children coming from afar - it would be a good idea either way. It will bring you more students for one."

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Over the next year, the four saw the truth in Ceridwen's words. Though many people from all over the isles heard about the new school founded up in the north, none of them agreed to send their children there until they could be certain that the children would have a place to live during the year. This left the school the same size as it had been for a couple of years already, and there was a definite lack of certain things such as furniture and cooking-ware and decorations. Also, they wanted to be connected to as many people as possible when the time would come, and through the children was their best option.

During the better part of that year there was not much change in their Rebellion Front as they had taken to call it. They were approached tentatively by a few groups resisting Ambrosius, but nothing concrete came out of it, since they were not willing to do much before they had reliable information about the goings of the Council.

They had attempted to contact people who were close to the members of the Council, but that was too risky, and some of their contacts almost lost their lives during those attempts, for many of those people whom they wanted to reach were too loyal, or sometimes too well bribed.

As for Godric and Rowena, it was hard at first for Helga to see a change in their behaviour. Though they obviously felt deeply for each other, they still argued - a lot. They would often be found shouting at each other and sometimes for days they ignored each other. One such case was when Godric visited Calanthe's tavern again without telling anyone where he was going. He had missed dinner, and a very worried Rowena turned into a very disgruntled Rowena, eventually giving Godric a silence treatment for over a week.

Then, however, were the times when they were so sweet to each other, such as when Godric pulled back a chair for Rowena at dinner, or when she had helped him with a tricky charm, and then Helga and Salazar would gleefully exchange glances and congratulate themselves for their brilliance.

It was only about halfway through spring of their third year in Hogwarts when they had had their first success. They were all in the middle of either classes or cooking when Rhys' son, Ilar, came running, his cheeks flushed, stuttering at Helga that his father wanted to see them immediately. The poor boy could hardly string two words together. Surprised and worried, they dismissed their students and went as fast as their mounts could carry them to the village.

"I want you to meet someone," Rhys said with a tired smile once Ceridwen let them in and shooed the rest of the family to their respective businesses. The only other person in the room was a weary-looking, lanky man, who sat, exhausted, with his feet propped up on the rough-hewn bench.

"Oh?" Godric asked curiously, sending a sidelong glance at the stranger. Helga had to admit that she herself was rather curious. They did not expect to be summoned in the middle of a school day to the Loch for a meeting. It must have been very important for Rhys to call for them. She, too, wondered who that man was, and why he was there to begin with.

"As you know, we've been trying to get someone into Stonehenge for quite a while, but failed each time," Rhys said, pouring each of them wine of the dark red variety Salazar was so fond of, making Helga want to raise an eyebrow. Were they celebrating something? "We tried getting to members of the Lower House, but they were suspicious of us and would not even listen. They dislike having to actually work, as Godric and Salazar most certainly know, and they are comfortable with their position. They will not help. However, Ceridwen thought of something, and I am ashamed to admit that I didn't think about it myself. I can only excuse myself by saying that she was at the Council Chamber for many more times than I." He coughed shortly to clear his throat and continued. "What Ceridwen said, was that during the Council's most sensitive of discussions there are still non-members attending."

"Non-members?" Helga frowned. "I don't remember seeing anyone who was not a member. Of course that could be because I was so frightened at the time for Rowena and Godric, but - what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the servants."

"No Servant would help us," Salazar said in disgust. "You should know that, Rhys. They cannot disobey Ambrosius and the rest. We're an exception, Godric and I."

"I know that, Salazar," Rhys said patiently. "However, I wasn't speaking of Servants of the Council. I was talking about a manservant. One of the butlers serving the Lords of the Council. They are always present. Unobtrusive, of course, but always there in case the Lords need something dispatched, or some food brought in."

They all sat quietly for a while, thinking this over. In her mind, Helga returned to that day four years before, when they walked through the Servants' Chamber doors into the Council Chamber. Were there menservants there? She pictured the immense hall, with its black and white marble slabs creating confusing designs on walls, floor and ceiling. She concentrated on her sketchy-at-best memories of her short time there. It was a frightening time - before she knew what would happen to them. A time before Hogwarts. She frowned. She couldn't remember any menservants.

But then... Wasn't there a man who came and led them out to Ambrosius' quarters?

Rhys saw her expression of apprehension and smiled. "Yes. There's a whole army of menservants in that chamber, and not many are aware of its existence. Luckily for us, Ceridwen and I are of those few.

"Two weeks ago the Council held its annual choosing of three new menservants. It is a respectable, profitable position and many a young man with great hopes for the future fight over it. There were more than a hundred youths trying for those three positions.

"This," Rhys gestured at the weary-looking man now sitting with his hands in his lap, politely listening, "-is Marlowe Cane - the newest member of the Menservants of the Council, the son of an old friend." He seemed to be drawing those last words almost as though he relished them.

"The son of an old friend, eh?" Godric said with a barely concealed grin, now observing the man with great interest, his eyes bright with excitement. "Not Old Oswald's son?"

The man nodded with a slight smile. "That is my father."

"Merlin, Rhys!" Godric burst out laughing, finally losing his grip on his mirth. "How did you get Oswald Cane's son to be a member of the Menservants? Ambrosius hates him!"

"Oh, he hates my father, certainly," Marlowe said with a slow smile warming his gaunt features. "I do believe that this very reason made him take me into service. You know - 'Old Oswald's boy bound in servitude' to him and all that. He couldn't resist it."

"Who is Old Oswald?" Rowena asked curiously, mirroring Helga's own curiosity.

To their surprise, Godric and Salazar exchanged glances and then started laughing, their faces crinkled in glee.

"Oh, this is too precious!" Godric laughed. "Someone who doesn't know Old Oswald!"

Before Rowena could snap out something nasty, Salazar raised his hand to calm her. "He only means that if you know Ambrosius, you normally know Old Oswald. You see, Old Oswald isn't a nobleman. His family had never had a seat in the Council, nor did they have enough power to make their voice heard among the multitudes of sniveling, petty petitioners. Oh, no. Not the Canes. That was why Ambrosius never bothered himself with them when he was squabbling for position back before he was Chief Warlock.

"Then, about thirty or so years ago, when Ambrosius finally managed to get himself a place of favour with Lord Fenwick, he discovered the power of the Canes. Oh, yes, he did. I remember Ceridwen gloating about it years after. See, the thing with the Canes is, that they have a lot of money. They don't have rank or title, they don't have land - but they do have a lot of money. They have businesses all over the Isles and in the mainland. They trade in everything, and they loan money to people, never pressing them for return, biding their time. Anything you want - no matter how bizarre or exotic, they can get you, for the right price. Therefore, they can allow themselves be generous. Very generous. They assist anyone in trouble without expecting repayment. The people they help, however, feel grateful and if a Cane needs help, they would gladly help.

"So one day, Ambrosius does something to really annoy Old Oswald. He tries to put his hands on Old Oswald's much younger, widowed sister - that was after your mother told him no very flatly, Rowena - and Oswald wouldn't have that. He knew of Ambrosius' attempted coercion of Rosalind Fitzpatrick and had no intention whatsoever to allow his sister to be victim of such a depraved man. He said no. Quite forcibly, at that."

"Oh?" Rowena asked, her displeasure with Godric long since faded into enchanted fascination.

"He had about half the people of York drag Ambrosius out and throw him into one of the smelliest, filthiest alleyways of the city. It was the greatest embarrassment the man had taken ever since Raven Lord had quite promptly thrown him cleanly out of Lady Rosalind's front door and into a muddy puddle. Since then he kept a grudge to Old Oswald, but he dares not do anything to annoy him again. Not to the man who can call about half of northern England to heel at will."

Helga, who was imagining that horrible Lord Ambrosius being thrown out to the street by the tired man she remembered Rowena's father to be, found that image ludicrous. She let out a chuckle which drew everybody's attention to her. She recovered quickly and asked, "So, Master Cane, you do realize that what we are asking of you to do may cost you your life?"

Marlowe nodded politely. "Yes, Mistress. I do realize that. But my family has been opposing Ambrosius for many years now. I am not going to disappoint my father or my Aunt Cassandra. So when word got to my father that up here in the north there are people who attempt getting rid of Ambrosius, he had asked me to help and this is what you need, so this is what I will do."

"You're a good man, Marlowe," Godric said. "Know that you will always find friends in us. Whenever you need help - just call on us, and we will be there."

"Thank you, Lord Gryffindor. Now, if you would excuse me, I would like to go and rest. It had been a long journey."

"Of course," Godric said pleasantly.

Once the man was gone, the four exchanged excited looks. The thought dominating their minds was that finally they had some luck. Finally something turned out right.

For what was left of that school year, all four were much more energetic. Their students noticed the change as well, some even remarking about it. Not wishing to involve their students in the business of rebellion, they only smiled and shook their heads, but during late night meetings with Ceridwen and Rhys and the rest of their friends and helpers over the newest batch of information sent by Marlowe Cane, they could not help but feel that everything will be all right.

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"I can't do this anymore!" Rowena burst out one stormy evening after dinner. The summer was almost there, so Helga was surprised that the outburst was taking place at that particular time. There was less than a week until the children would be released for the summer, and she expected her friend to be in a much better mood. Rowena's long locks were out of their usual bun, giving her a disheveled appearance and she was pacing back and forth in their small, cosy drawing room, away from inquiring students. Helga noted to herself in hindsight that Rowena had been agitated all throughout dinner, but said nothing. Finally, with a desperate moan her friend let herself drop next to Godric and bury her face in his broad chest. He folded his arms around her, a bewildered expression on his face.

"What can't you do anymore, Raven?" Helga asked softly, deeming it safe enough now that Godric had a hold on the irritated woman, ready to restrain her if needed.

"What can't I do?" Rowena said in a shrill, panicky voice. "What can't I do? Isn't it obvious Helga? It's not working anymore, don't you see?"

"What isn't?"

"The school!"

"What do you mean it's not working, Rowena?" Salazar asked slowly, completely nonplussed at her reply.

For a moment there was silence. Ominous, breathtaking silence. The fire in the grate crackled loudly in Helga's ears, but no other sound was heard. In the dim light she could see the mix of emotions in Rowena's face growing more and more confusing, and it seemed as though even the woman herself could decided what she felt. At last, when the tension in the chamber was near exploding, Rowena let out a small whimper and whispered, barely heard through the fabric covering Godric's chest, "I don't know what to do anymore. Half of them wouldn't listen to me. They do not listen and they do not learn. They experiment with things that should not be experimented with without the proper cautions and they strife amongst themselves. Those who wish to study quietly are taunted and not allowed to do as they wish, and those who wish to experiment mess all my lessons. Am I that bad a teacher?"

All three others started talking together, attempting to assure her that she was a wonderful teacher and that the children adored her, but she continued to sniffle against Godric, refusing to listen, though it is doubtful that she even managed to make sense of what the three were saying. It was only when Salazar said that he had the same trouble in his own classes, Godric admitted that not all his students liked using the sword and Helga mumbled that not everyone had the patience for Ancient Runes that her sniffling died out.

The four sat brooding for a while. This was a problem, they all knew. They had about sixty students in the Castle now, in ages varying from eight to nineteen, and of different temperaments. Some were studious, some were loud and raucous. Some were diligent and hardworking, others were shrewd and sharp-witted. There were quiet ones and shy ones, bold and rakish. Not everyone liked all subjects, not everyone enjoyed learning that much and needed someone of specific temperament to help them.

Another problem was that each one of the four friends had a different view of things.

Rowena, clearly, was the studious one. She liked quiet, concentrated learning. She was strict and was not lenient. She expected her students to excel and would always push them towards that goal. Those who were not of her kind would find it hard to go through her lessons actually understanding something. She demanded a lot, and not all would be able to reach the expected level.

Godric, so different, was relaxed and easy-going with his students. He would more often than not share a lighthearted joke with the children; fascinate them with stories of his past as Servant of the Council and his grand escape from Stonehenge only a few years prior to that. Half his lessons would go to waste because of his tale-weaving. He liked the brash, loud students - those who would go into the forest on a dare, or would go into the Lake in the middle of winter just to see if they could do it. He would laugh at those jokes played on him by certain children, and gave them a lot of leeway.

Then there was Salazar, who favoured those who would approach a problem only after thinking devious, different ways to solve it. He liked them to think originally, unconventionally. In his eyes, those with that shrewdness of thought would be the great wizards and witches of future. He encouraged his students to use unusual means when facing his lessons, and would work for longer hours with those who used the normal ways. He wanted them all cunning and able to survive in the wide world by being unexpected.

And then there was she, Helga the Muggle born. Unlike her friends, she knew that not all people possessed the characteristics they favoured. She did not badger her students into doing things above their abilities. All she expected from them was to work hard - to do their best, and that was everything in her eyes. Just as long as they did not lazy about, she was willing to give them her all. Simple as that.

She opened her mouth. "I think we need to separate the children."

Three pairs of eyes turned to meet hers, frowns on all foreheads. Now what had made her say that?

"Well, it's obvious if you think about it, isn't it?" she asked lamely, still processing the idea in her mind.

"What are you talking about, Helga?" Godric asked. "We already separated them into two classes of the younger and older ones. If we divide them further we're not going to be able to rest. The four of us would go crazy within a week."

"I... I didn't think about that specific obstacle," she admitted," but hear me out, Godric, before you press judgment."

"Go ahead," he said with a wry smile. "Sorry."

"No offense taken. Now," she frowned, "the way I see it, we each have favourites among the students as it is, don't we?"

The other three moved uncomfortably. They all did not like to admit that they favoured one child over another, but that was the truth of the matter, and the sooner they would acknowledge it, the better.

"That's true enough, I suppose," Salazar finally said, closely followed by reluctant nods of the other two.

"Well," she continued, "we favour them for a reason, don't we? We like them because they represent the ideals we like the most. Then what I suggest is that we simply divide them into four different groups. One group for each of us. Our favourite students."

"And then what?"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked with surprise at Godric's question.

"Then what, Helga? I told you. The four of us would go insane with overload in a week's time. Not to mention the fact that I, for one, cannot teach Ancient Runes or Charms. These are not my specialties. And another thing, you could have an eight year old studying in the same group as an eighteen year old. The studies fitting one would be extremely unfitting for the other. How do we get past that?"

"I didn't really think about that," she grimaced. "You have a point."

"Yes, he does have a point for a change," Rowena said, sending a somewhat impish grin at Godric and then laughing, admitting to only teasing him. Then she sobered. "But you have a point also, Helga. It's a good idea, all in all, but we can't make it work the way you suggested. What we can do, however, is quite simple. For the time being, I think we should leave the study groups as they are, though in a while I suggest we divide them into four age groups rather than two, for the age differences are still too great.

"Taking Helga's idea into account, I think that we should sort the students so that each of us would have our favourites under our care, and we would try to even out the numbers as best we can with the children resembling the most our ideal student.

"Now, along the day we leave out an hour or two in which we sit with our own group, go through everything they did today and helping each one as best we can. I think it would be the best way we can do it right now."

They mulled it over and then Salazar shrugged. "Why not? We might as well try. Let's go over the student list now and divide them between us. By next year we can start this. But then... what about newcomers?"

"What about them?"

"These students we know through months and sometimes years, so it's not a problem to sort through them, but what about those who would come next year?"

"We could..." Godric muttered. "Maybe we can confer with them or something like that? Determine what they like to do and then decide among ourselves who would take the newcomer under his or her wing?"

With that agreed, they started dividing the children into the four groups.

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The fourth year of the existence of Hogwarts School marked a great difference in the school's policy and general appearance. For one thing, the dozen or so House Elves that had been procured at the end of the third year were now fully adapted at running the cleaning and cooking in the Castle. They would do everything from lighting fires in the grates to cooking three course feasts for special days. They were all very quiet, very shy and extremely submissive. This left the four friends a lot of spare time for classes and private affairs.

Another profound change was that now they could take in children from afar, for now they had living space which enabled them to offer their students food and board. In preparation for that, and in subsequence to their dividing of the school into four, each of them chose a location in the school where their children would have their own chamber where they could become a more united group, and adjacent sleeping chambers. They had a lot of fun helping each other decorate the chambers.

Godric had chosen one of the big towers - a rounded, tall thing that had two spiral staircases climbing up to the top. His group chamber was at the very bottom of the tower, and due to an offhand remark made by their resident artist, Salazar, they gave it a scarlet theme, accented by golden tassels for the curtains and more golden touches on various padded chairs and walls. This, of course, led to a joint decision to decorate each chamber in the colours of its teacher's crest.

Thus Rowena's slender tower's base turned into a magnificent blue and bronze chamber with heavy tables for numerous books and a bronze railing to either side of the zigzagging staircase leading to the various sleeping chambers, and Salazar's chosen huge dungeon received a somewhat eerie tone of green, added to by torches of greenish flame and decorated by various silver things such as candlesticks and the linings of the dark furniture.

As for Helga, she always liked comfy places where she could lounge about in peace. Her chambers of choice were a connected set of rooms somewhere in the middle of the Castle. There were no steps in those rooms. No one would need to go up or down in her group chamber. There was just a long, snaking hallway, with rooms that opened to either side. The theme, naturally, had to be yellow and black, but Helga, though she loved her part of the crest Salazar had created for Hogwarts, thought that a theme such as that would be tad noxious. So she opted to decorate her chamber with the softest shades of yellow she could find, and used the black only to accent certain features of the rooms, such as the fireplace, which her friends helped her install with a dark wood carved mantelpiece. She had so much fun decorating that she was extremely disappointed when she discovered that there was nothing more to do after a week of work.

When the students arrived for their first day when summer ended, they were surprised to find the new alignment of their dinning hall which had changed drastically since they had last seen it. Instead of the long, single table they were used to congregate around during their noon meal, there were now four different tables. The small table their teachers had always used was still there, but now it was raised over a platform so all students could see them. The children of the village were also surprised to see quite a few new students that they did not recognize. Strangers that they had never seen before.

On the raised platform, Salazar suddenly rose and raised his hand for silence.

"Dear children," he greeted, "welcome to another year of studying under our guidance. As you can all see there is a small change in the sitting arrangements. I would now call your names. All those who are named now, will please quietly go and sit on the leftmost table." After a moment of silent staring, he added, "Your left."

There was a nervous tittering of laughter, but as he started reading out their names, the children obediently walked over to whatever table they were directed to.

Once he was finished with the list, Salazar said, "These are your sitting arrangements for the rest of your stay in Hogwarts. These are your tables. Each of us four will have one of those groups under our direct charge. Every complaint you may have, you will address to your personal guide." He then proceeded to tell them the details of their agreement, and ended it by explaining the presence of the strangers. "As you have all seen, there are many among you which you do not recognize. This is because they come from afar and do not live in the village. They will be living in Hogwarts, and sleeping in the newly constructed sleeping quarters which are adjacent to the group chambers - which you will all become familiar with this year, as you would spend a few hours a week there under the tutoring of you personal teacher. I trust you all to make them feel welcome.

"And again, welcome to your new year here. You may now go with your teacher, and all else shall be explained in your designated group. Good day."

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It was late autumn, and their fourth year of schooling had just began when it Helga's turn once more to go into the village to gather both the information collected for them by various denizens of the place, and the gifts of food many beady women would give them, often accompanied by the phrase, "You are so scrawny! You should eat more". Godric, and to a certain degree, Salazar, took full advantage of those mothering women. They did thank them profusely each time, however. Mostly because the Helga gave them a reproachful look whenever they did not.

"I'm leaving for the Loch!" she cried to whomever was near, which happened to be Rowena who was on her way to the vegetable patch to do a bit of weeding.

"Good. It's been a while since any of us bothered going there," her friend replied distractedly. Rowena had been absent minded all that morning. Something was on her mind, and Helga resolved to pry into it just as soon as she was back from the village.

"Do you need anything? I remember you said something about cloth for a new dress."

"No, thank you," Rowena said politely, shaking her head. "I decided against it. I'm not in sore need of something new. But don't neglect to visit Dahlia - she was very disappointed last time when we did not stop by. Oh! And don't forget to see Ceridwen about those last reports from Stonehenge! We need to go through them before the meeting the evening after tomorrow - and invite her to dinner! Tell her it's important! And don't forget to bring that keg of milk Moira has for us! Or the cheese from Donella! And the dispatches from Fearghas! And the-"

"Yes, yes, Rowena," Helga laughed. She should have known better than to ask Rowena whether there was something she needed. "I will not forget any of it, rest assured." With that she picked up her basket and took leave, intending to enjoy the long, pleasant walk to the Loch.

"-And don't forget to be back by sunset!"

She winced. She forgot that Rowena's special dinner was to begin at sunset. If she would be late, Rowena would kill her. Her friend had been talking of absolutely nothing for the past three days apart of the special dinner she had planned. Helga supposed that her preoccupation stemmed from that.

"I'll be back long before that and help you in the garden!" she shouted in the direction of her friend.

She would have to take a horse. Merlin, how she hated those animals.

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Helga watched silently as the man edged closer to get a better listening point. He had to do it unobtrusively, and by his inconspicuous movements, she could see that he was an adept at this.

"We'll hear it in a second," Ceridwen said to her, not bothering to whisper. "Rhys and I already went through this."

Not speaking, Helga nodded. She gathered her skirts and followed Ceridwen into the open, which now was clear to the man's point of view.

"-time to finalize our plans to crush the rebels in the north!" Ambrosius' voice reverberated from the massive marble walls, angling from every direction as the sound hit off pillars and walls.

"Be reasonable, my lord!" a stocky man in his seventies sitting on the upper step ("Lord Gaius," elaborated Ceridwen. "The most conservative of the First House. He can be either Ambrosius' biggest supporter, or worst enemy, so Ambrosius has to step carefully around him."), and then, when he saw he had Ambrosius' attention, he continued. "My lord Ambrosius, we know to this day very much the same as we knew two or even three years ago. We know where they are and that they are planning to work against you, but nothing other than that. What are their plans? Who supports their cause? What is the extent of their connections? Their schedule? Their resources? For all we know, all they plan to do is to sit holed up in that ruin they call a castle and wait out for our next move. Can you answer this, my lord, or are you simply going to dismiss it as irrelevant? I realize your over-confidence had been hurt when Servants Gryffindor and Slytherin escaped with those wenches, but you must realize how important it is not to work just out of a sense of vengeance!"

"This is good," Ceridwen said as she and Helga walked closer and seated themselves on the edge of the Lower House step, preparing to listen more comfortably. "This might mean that once we actually start doing things, then Gaius may support our cause. We would need to work on his sense of loyalty, of course, but he is a good man at heart."

"If he's such a good man, then why do we resort to using Marlow and not simply go to him?" Helga wondered, watching as Ambrosius' brow creased and he weighed Lord Gaius' words.

"Because then his sense of duty would make him tell Ambrosius, and then what? No. Marlow was our best choice. Now, hush. He's about to continue."

And indeed, that moment Ambrosius rose to his feet and cleared his throat. "My lord Gaius, it is true that we did not find out their plans as expected."

"As expected?" a tall, lanky man on the second step raised his voice ("Lord Billius of Cheshire," Ceridwen explained. "He's a weak link as well, since he'd go with Gaius if Gaius decides to side us"). "My lord Ambrosius, as far as I and my fellow Second House members know, there was not a single try to flush out the rebels or discover what their plans are!"

"Now we get to the interesting part," Ceridwen said gleefully. "Watch as Ambrosius squirm. He did not want to let that particular piece of information slip."

Ambrosius, as Ceridwen noted, did squirm on his feet, looking mightily uncomfortable. Then he sighed. "Last year a man was sent to bring me at least one of the four miscreants - preferably all four. He had failed. What they had done to him... does not bear repeating."

"You honestly thought one man is good enough to bring down Gryffindor or Slytherin?" Lord Billius demanded derisively. "You must be losing your grip on reality, my lord."

"The man who had been sent," Ambrosius seethed, "was Marcus Gregory. I trust you are all familiar with the man and his attributes?"

There was uproar in the Council Chamber. Helga covered her ears to protect them from the rising cacophony. At her side, Ceridwen laughed in glee. "See how he dug himself nicely in?" she sniggered. "Now he wouldn't know where to bury himself. Gregory was despised by many of them - even though Ambrosius himself signed the order to spare him when Raven Lord and Gawain wanted him dead. There were many doubts concerning it. No matter how much we hate them, the Council members are still human and Gregory... well, Gregory can't even be described as a beast."

After the Council members calmed down, they got back down to business and the part Helga and Ceridwen came to watch.

"Lord Gaius, I'm afraid, is speaking the truth," Ambrosius said heavily, settling down in place. "We do not know much more today than we had known straight after they had dubbed that ruin in the north their base of operations. However, what we do know, is that they are there and that they are indeed holed up in there. They will not move. And what is better, is that now in addition to themselves, they have a castle full of children, and the village that supports them - the Loch. They would not do anything to risk the lives of those people needlessly. Oh, no, they are too noble for it." There was a definite tone of contempt in Ambrosius' voice, and Helga noticed that some men in the Lower House shifted uncomfortably at his words, having noticed the derisive note as well.

"So what we need to do is to use that certain nobleness of theirs," Ambrosius continued, his handsome face creasing into a mask of madness. "To use it - and crush them with it. We, my friends, are going to center our efforts on hurting the soft belly of those so-called rebels of the north."

"And pray tell, Lord Ambrosius," Gaius said through gritted teeth, "-what do you suggest we do? Start slaughtering innocent children?"

"If needs be."

This statement caused a ripple of alarm throughout the men of the Council. Outraged cries of protest punctured the silence that spread after Ambrosius had made his reply. As much as Helga and the other three were bent on seeing the members of the Council as bloodthirsty monsters, not even they could ignore the blatant horror of what their Chief Warlock suggested.

Entirely in control, and calm, Ambrosius raised his hand to capture their attention. "Let me finish, my lords. If needs be, yes, I will authorize the killing of children. This is not, however, the purpose of my plan. No. We shall threaten to do so. If we do it just right, the fools will fall for it and drop into our palms like ripe fruits.

"Now, I drafted an order for the assembling of a mighty force to go against the fools of the north. I would like you to authorize it and sign it. Every able bodied man will be drafted and sent to train in special camps that will be headed by our own Chamber Guard. In a couple of years' time, it will all be over. Cane! Bring me parchment, quill and pen! I want this over and done with by the end of this meeting!"

Helga, still spellbound by what she had heard, was startled by the touch of Ceridwen's hand on her shoulder.

"That's it, Helga. After that there was just the signing of the formal order and the Council dispersed. Come, we should go out."

Helga nodded and felt herself being drawn out...

"Well, I have to say it was interesting," she admitted once they were back in Rhys' kitchen and Ceridwen stored the Basin of Memories back in its place. "Not quite satisfying, but at least it gave us somewhat of an idea of what's going on."

Ceridwen nodded, taking back her seat. "That was what Marlowe said as well, but he thought it would be better for us to know this little since he had no idea how long it would take him to accumulate more information. We need to discuss this thing in whole, double-check every detail."

"Yes, I know. I assume you and Rhys took notes of what was being said? I do not believe that taking the Basin into Hogwarts would be such a good idea. It's a long journey on horseback, and I don't wish it to be spilled."

"Naturally we did, my girl. Everything documented and noted. Now, would it be all right if I come by tomorrow evening so we can go through the thing with the others as well?"

"Oh!" Helga exclaimed, suddenly remembering. "Rowena asked me to bring you along to dinner tonight. We're not dining in the Council Hall with the children tonight for some reason. She is planning some sort of a private meal. I think she may have discovered something vital and wants to share it with us all."

"Of course I will come!" Ceridwen said with a smile. "Then we could use this evening for sifting through all the information. Rhys, however, will not be able to come since he stayed outside during the rainstorm yesterday and is now chilled. If you will just wait a moment or two, I will exchange my clothes for more appropriate ones and notify Lleulu that there will be one less at dinnertime." And without another word she swept out of the room, leaving Helga to pick up the parcels Rowena had reminded her to take about every other minute or so.

Yes, she had taken everything. She had the milk and the cheese in their containers, and the dispatches from their contacts were safely tucked within her waist pouch. She had not had the time yet to go through them, and besides, she was sure that the others would like to see them as soon as possible. From the look on Fearghas' face, it was something important.

She just wrapped her cloak around her shoulders when Ceridwen came in with Lleulu in tow, her heavy cloak in her arms.

"-and I trust you to force Rhys into bed if needed. The man is beginning to be troublesome about it. Tell him I'll feed him that foul concoction if he does not rest, understood?"

The young girl nodded at Ceridwen's instructions and smiled at Helga. "It will be done. Have a nice evening."

"Thank you, my dear," Ceridwen said and with a sweeping motion of her arm, pushed Helga ahead of her and into the street.

It was rather cold outside, and Helga feared that rain would come soon as well. She could only imagine what the return journey to Hogwarts would be like if she had been delayed further in her expedition within Marlowe's memory together with Ceridwen. Taking hold of her horse' reins, she waited Ceridwen to saddle her own horse. Once ready, the two women mounted and started making their way down the main street and in the general direction of Hogwarts. They were not halfway across the street when they were brought into a halt.

"Mistress Hufflepuff!" a young woman Helga vaguely recognized as the sister of one of her students called. "Wait one moment please!"

Rather impatiently, Helga stopped, too eager to get home to be gracious. Her meeting with Ceridwen had, after all, taken longer than she had expected, and atop of the weather growing foul, she had promised Rowena to help in the garden.

The young woman, her dirty apron covering a rather well-made gown, ran after her from the direction of the village center.

"What can I do for you-" she had to dig deep to recall the girl's name, not having Rowena's knack for names. "-Ishbel?"

The girl beamed at her, glad to have been remembered by such an important persona. "I'm sorry to delay you, Mistress Hufflepuff, but there's someone here for Mistress Ravenclaw. She arrived here early this morning and demanded to be taken to her. We tried to explain that you can't simply go there without invitation, so she demanded that one of you be summoned. Calanthe distracted her all day so that she will not leave to try going to the Castle by herself, but she is a very stubborn woman."

"Very well," Helga sighed with growing annoyance. She hoped it was not yet another poor girl wanting work they just could not give. "Take me to her. You don't mind, do you, Ceridwen?"

The older woman shook her head.

Ishbel nodded enthusiastically and half walking, half running, led Helga to Calanthe's tavern. They barely reached the door when she heard a muffled voice saying, "You have delayed me long enough! I will now go and find this dratted Castle you are speaking of, with or without your help!"

Mustering all that was left of her patience, Helga pushed the door open and with a voice brimming with ill-suppressed irritation said, "I understand you want to see Mistress Ravenclaw. Well, I'm afraid that it is not possible for you to go into Hogwarts without our invitation or autho-" her sure voice died in her throat as the woman in the shadows by the counter stepped into the light. She felt herself blush.

The last time she had seen that woman she was a shy girl of eighteen in a modest dress of simple fabric, and a child's hairstyle. Now she was five years older, and all modesty she had, at least in what she assumed the woman thought, had long since evaporated.

The gown she was wearing was more than a little revealing, made of the finest pale yellow silk, given to her by Salazar, and decorated with the elaborate lace Rowena bought her for her last birthday at the front and at the sleeves. Her hair was held high and made into what she now felt were rather vain curls. She even had a jewel at her neck. She felt overly-painted and under-dressed under the woman's scrutinizing gaze.

"Why, Helga," Rosalind Ravenclaw said archly. "My, have you grown up."

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:

Selenium234: Why, thank you ;)

ariesfire: I hope this answers your musings about Salazar and Helga. Quietly, and quite behind our back, they got together :) Thank you!

Argyle: All will be answered in good time, I promise! I can't answer these questions about Hogwarts, because the answers will appear in the coming chapters. Glad you liked it!

Lunafan: Helga is indeed much of badger when she wants to be - especially when people *coughRowenacough* annoy her. As for Gregory? Still a couple more chapters to go before you find out... I haven't forgotten about him... *cackles evilly*

12345: Well, you mostly hit it spot on - it was in order to introduce the symbols that they had to argue about it - and to find Helga a symbol and explain why it had to be an animal. Thank you very much!

Tbmsand: Yes they have! Isn't it just wonderful? :) I liked making Godric the one who realized it first and came to terms with it. It makes such a change of his usual characteristics. Hope that answered some of your questions about Helga and Salazar. There will be more, but mostly, they're just too sneaky the two of those - getting together behind all our backs...

Siriusisnotgay267: I definitely agree. It had taken them far too long. But then, what can you do when you have two, damn stubborn characters refusing to cooperate? ;) Glad you like my Helga. She's such a sweetie...

R&G: Like most people, I like adding a bit of fluff here and there - and Godric and Rowena practically demanded it :D Don't worry! No intention of abandoning this story!

Kitt: Isn't she? I absolutely adore her. I do have the occasional pang of pity for my readers, you know ;) Nah, U just really like cliffies, but you're right - it is nice not to end a chapter with one from time to time. Thank you very much!

Katalyst159: It wasn't, but it did storm, didn't it? :D And yes, Helga's a wonderful little schemer. Hope this chapter cleared a few things about Helga and Salazar's relationship! Thanks!

MischievousMarauder: Thank you very much! I'm very happy that the plot doesn't bore you... Hope this chapter answered your Helga/Salazar questions! And as for updates, I can only let you know on Thursdays, and usually it's up a short while before - but I can still do it - glad you take so much interest in the story!

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