Tale of a Time Long Gone

A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to the new stage of this story. From now on there will be a lot of closing loose threads, and developing the story to its end... I hope you will like!

A great thank you to Naycit, who beta-d this chapter!

In this chapter: Now that the battle is over and Ambrosius dead, the Founding Four can have a little time for themselves. But what's this? Betrayal, intrigue, and Salazar letting his mouth run away with him, that's what!

Enjoy!

Chapter 22 - Brothers-in-Arms

"It is a well-known fact that in its early years of existence, Hogwarts did not host many students of Muggle lineage. While they certainly existed, they formed a very small percentage of the overall number of students attending over the first couple of centuries. It was only late into the twelfth century, or possibly early into the thirteenth, that the great 'Muggle Boom' as some cynical members of the historian community devoting their career to the research of Hogwarts have dubbed it had occurred.

"This massive wave of Muggle born students came into being with the decree that enabled the Headmaster of Hogwarts at the time, Herald Berwick, to actively search for those Muggle children blessed with magic.

"This entire reform, however, could not have taken place if it were not for the original idea made by at least one of the Founders, who had decided they should allow the aforementioned children to enter the school as well. Which one of the three (for Slytherin certainly is not the one) was the one to voice this idea, we may never know..."

-Hogwarts, A History; Author unknown

To say that Rowena was surprised at that dying man's last words would be an understatement. Surprise did not come near what she was feeling. Upon hearing her mother's name, she sat back on her heels and stared at the lifeless body, eyes wide, eyebrows climbing up on her forehead. As she did that in silence, allowing the others to fuss over the dead man, she contemplated the truth of what Godric had said only minutes before.

Amazing. You are human after all.

And in that single word, pronounced directly after the expected flaming denunciation, Ambrosius had proved he was just as human as anyone else. In his last moment, his thoughts had been trained on one person. The only person he had ever loved.

Anger, shock and pity all battled for dominance in her. How dare this monster of a man say her mother's name as though she had been his lover? If Ambrosius would have survived even a while longer, she would have killed him herself. This was only her first thought, though, for soon after she felt a curious wave of remorse. While she most certainly despised the man who would have killed her children in a blink of an eye, she could not help but wonder. He had been human. He had loved and he had cherished. He had wanted to be loved back like any other human being.

Disgusted at herself, and even more disgusted at the dead man in front of her, who had ruined with his own two hands any chance he had ever had for happiness, she got up and turned her back on him and her friends. Walking a short distance away from the group, she just stood and watched the now unfolding horrors of the battle.

The drafted men of Ambrosius, devoid of a leader and their cruel taskmasters, wandered off, confused expressions on their face. Everywhere there were people down - many bloodied and hacked off. She did not know how many of them were dead and how many were just stunned. She did not know how many of their men had gone down and how many of the enemy had. It did not matter at the moment. At the moment, she was numb and frozen, unable to believe that it was over, unable to grasp the fact that their greatest of enemies lay dead behind her.

She watched as the Knights and some of the members of the resistance groups started gathering the confused men of Ambrosius. Others started Ennervating the stunned ones, gently guiding them to where their comrades were being assembled. To one side several groups started lining the dead of Hogwarts in sombre rows, while the enemy's dead were collected to the other. All over the hills there were still pockets of fighters, Guards who had not been subdued as yet.

Feeling a shudder going up her spine, Rowena hugged herself, her whole body shivering. Such carnage she had never seen in her life. For the first time in her life, she felt the urge to retch, her heaving stomach rebelling against her tight control.

Warm arms wrapped themselves around her from behind, and soon Godric was putting his chin on her shoulder, whispering soothing words in her ear, holding her until she calmed sufficiently.

"There, there, dear," he muttered. "It's all over now. No more Ambrosius. We are free."

"I know... but..." She could not make the words leave her mouth. They were lodged in her throat, refusing to be said.

He tightened his hold on her as though not needing words to understand what she was thinking. Tears slid down her cheeks. During the battle she had been all but emotional. She had been cold and calculating, not allowing one Guard of the Chamber get past her guard. Now that it was all over...

She turned and buried her face in Godric's chest, needing the warm scent of his body and the comforting presence that was her husband. In her dazed state, it took her a little while to realize that, in addition to the smell of sweat, she also smelled blood. Her eyes wide, she drew back from him, her hands clutching his shoulders.

"Godric!" she cried, seeing his torso was drenched in blood. "Where were you hit?"

He tensed, frowning at her words, not comprehending the question, then, glancing down at himself, relaxed. "Little of this is mine, Rowena," he said with a faint smile, as though remembering something not entirely unpleasant. "I only have minor cuts and abrasions. Nothing to fuss about."

"But-but-but - all this blood!" she was too anxious to form a coherent sentence. How was he still standing with all this blood out of his body? Her hands flew to his armoured leather vest, attempting to find the straps and remove the garment from him before he bled to death in front of her.

"Rowena!" he called over her panic, his dirty, bloodied hands grasping her own non-too-clean ones. He leaned down until his face was level with hers. "'Wena, I swear to you, this is not my blood. Billius had skewered Sir Randolf when the man attempted taking me down. It's his blood - not mine. Please calm down."

Her breath coming in great gasps, she nodded. She needed to get out of that place. The smell of blood and the gruesome sights obscured her sense of reason. "Would you... would you mind if I... left for the village?" Now that Ambrosius was gone and his minions hunted down and taken as they spoke, and Godric was more or less fine, her thoughts made a drastic change of direction and honed on her children back at the village.

Godric looked down at her, and in his eyes she could see that he wanted nothing more than to come with her. Smiling, he nodded. "Go, Rowena. Merlin knows they are probably driving my mother insane. Take someone with you, though, all right?"

"I'll go with her," Helga's voice came behind them. She was limping slightly, but otherwise looked to be all right. Her blond hair was out of its binds, and her face very dirty, but she was smiling.

As the two friends, accompanied by two Knights Godric had pulled out of their work and drafted to the two women, made their way back in the direction of the Loch, Rowena decided that the first thing she would do after she made sure her children were all in one piece would be to write a long-due letter to her mother and tell her of the demise of the man she had despised more than anyone else.

As they entered the village, the men who had been dispatched to form the last line of defence in case the defenders of the Castle fell, hailed them and eagerly questioned them concerning the outcome of the battle. Rowena ignored them all, leaving the Knights to deal with them. With Helga at her side, she ploughed through the crowd of women and children who had heard the commotion and wanted to hear the story as well in a direct, unwavering line.

At the front door of Sir Rhys' house stood Dahlia, Lleulu, and Ceridwen, all anxiously awaiting the news. Ryan was standing by his grandmother, tightly clutching the hem of her dress. Little Ceri was in Ceridwen's arms, watching wide-eyed at the gathering in front of her. Typically, the baby was also the first to notice her mother, suddenly struggling in Ceridwen's arms, her chubby little arms stretching for Rowena. Her face contorted in an expression that forecasted tears.

Rowena knew that if her daughter started to cry she would break down as well. She only barely dammed the tears that tried to escape her. Losing all sense of dignity, she ran to the waiting women and plucked Ceri out of her grandmother's arms, burying her face in her short, soft, auburn hair, murmuring softly to calm the baby now clutching her hair almost painfully.

"Mama!" She felt someone clinging unto her legs. Ryan. Before even looking down, she bent, settling on the damp earth, holding tightly unto both her children, relief pulsing through her veins. It had almost been unbearable to leave them there the day before. Ceri had screamed for her mother, and Ryan had clung to her skirts, refusing to let go. It had taken the combined forces of all women to make the two children stay. The children did not care about dirt, nor did they care about the blood splotched on their mother's clothes. All they cared about that they were where they belonged.

In the background, Rowena could hear Helga reassuring the anxious women that everything was set to right, but at the moment she could not have cared less.

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After the battle was done and families reunited, there was still much to be done. The bodies of the men who had died on the field, surprisingly few as they were, needed to be collected, identified if possible, and prepared for burial. Some were sent to their homes, where they would go through the ceremonies of their people. Wounded needed to be taken care of and the people of the Loch and the Hogwarts Four offered their service to everyone - friend and foe alike.

"We can't just let them rot," Helga had persisted when a surly-looking Knight had asked for the reason behind their lenient policy. "They did not come here of their own desire. They don't deserve to be left to die."

It would be weeks before the school could resume its day-to-day activity and much longer than that to erase the fear of war from the minds of the children attending Hogwarts. Letters from worried parents who had heard of the conflict in the north arrived without fail almost before the fighting was over. They all had to be answered and sent back. And while Hogwarts began flourishing again, more people hearing of the exploits of its founders and liking what they had heard started sending their children there. The Council had all but crumbled.

Ten of the twenty-four lords of the Council had died during the battle outside the gates of Hogwarts. The others, those who had not wanted to work openly against Billius and Gaius but were too afraid to work against Ambrosius, were still tarred with the same brush as Ambrosius and there was almost no one who had heard of the battle who would again listen to any of their orders. The only trustworthy people left to lead the magic community were Billius and Gaius, and perhaps a few of the lords who had covertly helped them.

The four friends at the north, however, did not concern themselves with it. Small communities, as proved by the people of the Loch, could govern themselves adequately without the upper rule of the Council. The Council had turned into a burden rather than a necessity to the magic people of Britain, and they were all better off without them, so they felt. Now that everything was at peace - relatively - they were bent on working only for their school.

And so, for a few months, everything seemed to be peaceful and going according to plan. It is the nature of things, however, to always gravitate into chaos and discord, or perhaps it is just the nature of humans. The Castle of Hogwarts and its inhabitants could no more continue in peace than the world could stop turning.

It was early into the next school year that a letter had arrived by owl to change everything, and to turn the serene existence of the four friends into a chaotic whirlpool that would eventually bring unexpected results.

As they were sitting together in their private antechamber on the ground floor, relaxing after a long, tiring day, Helga entered the room, holding a roll of parchment tightly in her hand as though afraid it might run away if she loosened her grip.

"You wouldn't believe what we had just received!" she called, surprising them all. Salazar and Godric, who were in the middle of a game of chess, looked up from the board, Godric stopping bouncing Ryan on his knees. Rowena, who was playing with Ceri on the singed hearthrug, looked up at her friend questioningly.

"Listen to this," said Helga excitedly, brandishing the roll of parchment in her hand as though it was a weapon. She then unrolled it and, without waiting for response, read them the contents.

"To Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, greetings,

"As you must know, my two children, Nathan and John, have been attending your fine school for the past year. During that time I have heard nothing but good things about you and the Castle of Hogwarts, and I find myself having to congratulate you all on your way of conduct throughout the years. I hope that since you are widely known nowadays as great benefactors to the magic community, you will listen carefully to what I have to say and judge it accordingly.

"I have a neighbour, a girl of thirteen, who has always struck me as a good, hardworking, young woman with great patience and an insatiable craving to study. This morning I have seen her do magic. I have no doubt of what I have seen, but I do believe she was not aware of what she was doing.

"Her parents, however, seem to be aware that there is something unusual and different about their daughter, but to my eyes they appear to be more curious than afraid. I believe that the questioning nature of her father, who dedicates his time to the research of the influence of herbs on the human body, makes him and his wife more open and accepting. He has a keen interest in everything that is usually explained by the superstitious as magic and tries to find a logical answer to why things happen.

"Cautiously, aware that I may have to do something drastic, I made inquiries with the parents, and they sound ecstatic that their daughter may be special in some way.

"My Lords and Ladies, may I be as bold as to ask that the girl be admitted in your school? Her mother is the maker of fine wools, and I do believe they will keep children warm at night.

"Hopefully waiting your reply,

"Master William Cutter."

Looking around at them all, her face flushed with delight and unsuppressed excitement, she waited for their response.

"It could be a great opportunity," Godric finally said, after digesting what the letter meant. "After all, one of the motives driving us this far was to give a chance to anyone and everyone with magic to come to their full potential. I don't see a problem with bringing this girl here, other than convincing her parents not to say a word of it to anyone. And mind you, this could pose a problem. As much as this man thinks they are open-minded, even open-minded men see the narrower view of the world whenever magic is mentioned."

Privately, Rowena thought that he had a point. Back in the days when the idea of a school was only a vague plan in their minds, their prime objective was to enable children of magic to protect themselves from the Council and its negative approach to anyone who was not of use to them. At the time they may have not put words to it, but they considered the children of Muggle blood amongst those who needed teaching. Indeed, they were the ones who needed the most protecting, to stop Muggles from turning them into firewood.

"I agree," she said, nodding at Helga. "There are definitely unexplored talents out there that can only be discovered by taking that step and gathering those of Muggle blood who can use these talents. We may be able to learn a lot from observing such a child as this one - maybe even learn something of our own origins. I say we allow this girl to come here."

All three turned to look at Salazar, who had been very quiet since Helga started reading. Rowena was a little surprised at the reluctant expression on her friend's face. Though being honest with herself, it was not all that unexpected. Salazar had always been more cautious when confronted with anything Muggle that the rest of them. His original objections to have Helga join them all those years ago were centred at her Muggle heritage. However, there was something in his face that she could not quite read, and that inability disturbed her.

"I don't know if it's such a good idea," the tall man finally said with some difficulty, his eyes shifting this way and that, not precisely meeting the others'.

"What do you mean?" Helga asked with a frown, her excitement diminishing a notch. She was now surveying Salazar with something between hurt and puzzlement, and Rowena could not blame her. She had expected Salazar's full support on the matter, and by all rights she should have had it.

Salazar, who started moving uncomfortably under the concentrated scrutinizing from all three of his friends, tried to explain. "Muggles are not like us. They think differently, they have different morals - or the lack of them-" Rowena had no doubt to what he was referring by that "They have their religion and their beliefs which set us even further apart. They don't think magic should be allowed and therefore they are bound to pass these beliefs to their children - be they magic or not. Those ideas, drilled into them from childhood, cannot be easily removed, maybe even impossible to do so. They will bring them here with them and they will pose a threat on our ideals and patterns of thought. Some might even persevere in their insistence that magic is evil. We cannot let that happen, now, can we?"

"What a foolhardy thing to say, Salazar!" Godric protested. "This doesn't befit you. 'Pose a threat on our ideals and patterns of thought?' This is a school. They're supposed to come here to learn new ideals and patterns of thoughts."

Helga did not say anything, but her reproachful eyes were fixed on Salazar, her hands on her hips in that all-too-familiar gesture of displeasure. To Rowena, who had often felt the power of that displeasure growing up, it seemed as though Salazar quite rightly shrank for a moment before straightening and looking slightly more determined. "I'm not keen on the influence of Muggle-bred children, is all I'm saying!" he defended, and Rowena wondered how her friend, who had always considered every word carefully before uttering it, could be so foolish.

"Salazar!" Helga cried, finally too appalled at his words to remain speechless.

"Oh, you don't count, Helga." The unfortunate man dug himself deeper into the mud. "You're practically wizard-raised!"

To Rowena, her mouth trying to open and say something to stop what would inevitably come, it seemed like the air in the chamber had grown considerably colder, and she could see Helga quietly steaming in her anger. Even Maureen, the snake, seemed to realize that her master and friend had said something incredibly wrong, for she made one of her rare appearances out of Salazar's sleeve and hissed something at her master, who seemed mortified at whatever she had said.

In the meanwhile, Helga seemed to reach a conclusion. "If you don't mind," she said, primly getting up from her chair, her face cold, "I would now retire to my quarters for the night. I seem to have become suddenly tired."

Ignoring Salazar, who half-rose from his chair with protest on his lips, and Godric, who started with an objecting, "Helga!", the golden-haired woman swept out of the room, her anger at Salazar apparent to everyone.

The man in question stared after her, with his mouth slightly open. He looked as though he had never seen anything more shocking in his life. Were it not for the situation being so grave, Rowena would have considered her friend's expression almost comical. She did not allow any of that show on her face. Her eyebrows knit, she looked pointedly at Salazar with her arms crossed in a show of impatience. She was not about to let him hurt Helga just like that and not apologize.

"What?" Salazar, who had stopped gaping at the closed door, demanded, finally noticing his irate friend.

"What do you mean what?" she growled. "Go after her, you fool! You have hurt her feelings with that flippant remark of yours. You are a smart man, Salazar - don't prove me wrong on that account. Go apologize, or I will fry your privates on a low fire and stop you from ever having children!"

She could see the man paling at the threat, and beside him, Godric's face was sporting the same painful contortion at the mere idea. It appeared to be efficient, however, because Salazar got up from his chair and got out of the room in a quickened pace.

Left alone with her husband and children, and certain that Salazar would make things right again with Helga, she turned back to her baby girl and started humming a happy tune she remembered Dahlia singing her little boy after he had been born, and tickled the child's stomach, making faces that she would not be caught dead with on any other occasion. From the corner of her eye, she could see Godric glancing at her. She knew he wanted to ask something, but did not make it apparent to him.

Finally, he gulped and asked "Would you have really done it, were he not to go after her?"

She looked up from their baby and rolled her eyes. "Of course not, Godric," she said, allowing him to expel a breath he probably did not realize he as holding. "I would have made his life a living hell for a while, however. Helga is my best friend. She is almost like a little sister to me, and I would hurt anyone who would dare harm her, even if it is Salazar, and - Ryan, get off that chair! - Godric, can't you help?"

As though realizing that his parents' attention was not on him, and having been released by Godric during the previous happenings, young Ryan attempted climbing one of the empty chairs in the room. As he was not tall enough, he had to pull at the rim of the seat and bring his chubby body up. This, however, caused the chair to dangerously slope in his direction. Unable to just drop Ceri and stop the boy, she pleaded for Godric's help.

"Oh, no, dear," he said with a grin directed at his firstborn. "I see you are handling them beautifully by yourself. I think I'll go outside for a bit of sword practice before the rain starts again."

He left the room, closing the door just as she let out an exasperated, "Godric!" And almost as soon as he did, there was shrill cry as their boy lost his footing and fell off the aforementioned chair. Fuming, Rowena put Ceri down and hurried to where her son was bawling his eyes out, more for show and pity from his mother than anything else.

Grumbling at the inconsideration of men, she calmed the boy down, morosely wondering if those children would be the death of her. Almost as if she had heard her thoughts, Ceri had chosen that moment to reach a fascinated hand at the flames in the fireplace.

"Nooooo!" Rowena almost shrieked, leaving Ryan and snatching the girl away. With a swish of her wand, she extinguished the fire, cursing their foolishness at not fencing the grate off in a way that would prevent the children from reaching it. Ceri, having her new toy taken away so abruptly, started crying as well, soon to be joined again by Ryan, who had decided to copy his little sister, although nothing had happened to him. Yet.

Sometime later, relieved that the two had tired, she had taken the exhausted children back to their quarters and gently tucked them in, making sure they were deeply asleep before casting the charm that would alert her if something was wrong, and then returning to the antechamber to wait for Godric to return.

As she waited, she plotted ways in which she could get back at him for leaving her alone with two overactive children, but as time passed, she became sleepier and more inclined to forgive him - if he grovelled enough, that is. It took him longer than she had expected to come back, and by the time he did, she was already on the verge of sleep.

She only vaguely heard the sound of the opening door and the footsteps that neared her. Only when he put a hand on her shoulder did Rowena smile sleepily as Godric leaned over her and kissed her gently.

"The children?" he asked softly.

"In bed. Over an hour ago," she mumbled, struggling to clear the sleepiness from her voice. "I came back here to wait for you. Didn't know you would be gone this long."

"Well, I'm here now, so how about we just proceed to bed? You look exhausted."

And she was exhausted. Ryan had worn her out entirely that evening, and she was dreading the day Ceri would learn how to run. As if keeping an eye on Ryan was not hard enough.

"Let's go, then," he said with a smile, helping her to her feet. "I don't fancy carrying you all the way to our quarters if you happen to fall asleep on me."

"And why is that, Godric Gryffindor?" she asked, entering a dangerous overtone to her words.

He seemed to notice that, thick as he was, for he grinned at her. "Why, because you need to lose some weight, dear," he said impishly.

"Godric!" she growled. He laughed, and in his laughter was the carefree note she had missed so sorely in the previous months. Without warning, he put his arms around her and whirled her to face him.

"Now, now, 'Wena," he whispered into her ear, his breath warm and even. "You wouldn't kill your beloved husband, now, would you?"

"I might consider that," she said, "if you don't learn not to be this flippant."

"Ah, but you love me so much as I already am. Not being flippant would make all the difference in the world, now, wouldn't it? It would take my innate charm away."

"Flattering yourself, are you?" she uttered with difficulty as he kissed her cheek once, twice...

"Always..." His lips touched hers. As soon as they did, however, the two sprang apart at the sound of two voices talking loudly and obviously in the middle of a confrontation. They exchanged glances, having no difficulty at placing those voices.

"-so you mean you never loved me," Helga's voice said flatly, making Rowena wince. "You allowed me to delude myself for so long just because you cared for me and didn't want to hurt my feelings. Great judgment, Salazar. Absolutely wonderful."

"Helga, please, it wasn't like that!" Salazar protested, and Rowena could just imagine the pained expression on his face, but Helga did not allow him to speak. The normally cheerful, happy woman was in a very foul mood.

"Nine years, Salazar! You allowed me to delude myself for nine years. That's longer than Rowena and Godric had been together, and they are married and have two children! Great Merlin, Salazar! I honestly thought you were going to ask me to marry you! I've waited this long for you - I would have waited more! But this goes beyond limits. If you don't love me, then there is no point in me waiting anymore, now, is there? You will never ask me to become your wife."

"Helga... I really do care about you," Salazar sighed, "but I don't love you the way you deserve. You are such a sweet, loving person, and you give me more love than I can ever give you back."

Rowena, who knew that to be untrue, found herself glancing at her husband for reassurance. The look on his face told her that he was wishing he could just jump into the adjacent corridor and shake some sense into his friend. She herself felt much the same way, though if she was to do it, it would be angrily and in an outraged manner. How dare he do this to Helga - he was lying - and for what reason? Salazar did not know what he was saying. This had to be a mistake. Rowena knew how much he loved Helga.

"Don't give me that nonsense, Salazar Slytherin!" Helga practically screamed, losing all veneer of self-control, and Rowena could only imagine in how much pain the other woman was. "You should have said so a long time ago instead of allowing me to weave fantasies of our future life together! Why, Salazar? Why did you do this to me? You say you care, but really, you don't!"

"Helga - please! I gave this a long deliberation before I said it. Please... I just... I just think it would be better off if we remain friends and nothing more. It would be for the best."

Rowena could hear the defeated tone in her friend's voice, and a second glance at Godric told her he had heard it as well, but apparently neither Salazar nor Helga noticed it.

"Very well," Helga said coldly. "We shall remain friends. Thank you, Salazar, for breaking my heart now, before I would have approached you about marriage." With that, the two eavesdroppers heard her footsteps walk away, or rather storm away.

Now they could hear Salazar walking in the opposite direction - and that soon enough he would see them. Neither of them moved. The expressions on both their faces were shocked, and Rowena felt anger bubbling inside her. How could this have happened? Standing there, the pair waited for their friend to emerge into the corridor. When he finally did, he stopped as soon as he saw them, horror in his eyes.

"You are a foolish, foolish man, Salazar," Rowena said softly, and before the startled Salazar could utter a word, she hurried past him and after Helga. Something told her that, more than anything, her friend would now need a shoulder to cry on.

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After Salazar and Helga's relationship fell into pieces, Rowena was afraid for both her friends. The worst thing about it was that if she would comfort the one, the other would immediately feel betrayed. The reason behind their fallout was so complex and so obscure to her. Neither would divulge exactly what had happened before the point where she and Godric had heard them and, therefore she could not exactly help either one. She did not know what Salazar had said to Helga, so she could not address his points nor could she try and counter them. It was too hard and too confusing.

In the meanwhile, the school suffered. Helga and Salazar could not bear be in the same room at the same time. Meals were an awkward affair, with Godric and Rowena firmly wedged between the two so that they would not have to look into each other's eyes. Helga was constantly on the verge of tears whenever Salazar was not around and Salazar was incredibly moody when Helga was not there to see it. Their enthusiasm in teaching lessened to a level where the students repeatedly complained to Godric and Rowena that they were bored out of their wits in the other two's lessons.

Seeing the two wandering listlessly on the grounds tore Rowena apart, and she could see that Godric was feeling the same way. They could no longer sit in pleasant companionship in the evenings, idly comparing notes of the passing day. Instead, Rowena and Helga had to closet themselves in Rowena's drawing room, and Godric and Salazar stayed in Salazar's quarters.

Whenever the former couple had accidentally met in the corridors, they would murmur an embarrassed greeting and then hurry on their way.

Then, one day, without warning, more than a month later, Helga returned to her cheery self again. She laughed easily once more, sang in the corridors when she thought no one could hear her, and danced around the drawing room with Ceri as she had done before the fallout with Salazar. She smiled widely at everyone, and even initiated a conversation with the brooding Salazar without prompting from Rowena or from Godric.

Though she wanted to believe that Helga had gotten over the ordeal by herself, Rowena suspected that such was not the case. The silly expression on the younger woman's face was reminiscent of the one she had when Salazar and her had grown closer all those years before, and Rowena was afraid of what it might mean, though she could not quite form an idea on why she was afraid, or for whom.

Over the next few weeks, she closely watched her friend, noting how she started spending a lot more time at the Loch after schooldays and on free days, coming back late at night with flushed cheeks and wide grins. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, rivaled by a feeling of happiness, she concluded that her initial suspicion was true. All she had to do was find some proof.

So she continued watching the sunny woman and made discreet inquiries that confirmed her notion, and while she knew now for certain that this would break Salazar even further, she realized that this was Helga's choice, and her chance to be happy and start a family.

At first she was the only one who had noticed, but soon enough Godric approached her on the matter, proving to her once more that he was not as dim in those matters as he seemed.

Rowena was in her drawing room, her eyes affixed to the dusty tome in front of her, ears alert to any sounds of distress from Ceri, who was playing on the floor with a few rag dolls given to her by Dahlia, when a firm knock on the door made her look up and invite the one on the other side of the door in. She had no doubt who it was, for years of hearing him rap his knuckles on doors left an imprint in her memory.

Returning to her book, she said, "Good afternoon, Godric. Finished with your training so soon?"

"I wouldn't have been here if it was not for this," he told her, making her look up once more. At seeing what he was pointing at, she sighed.

"What is it with little children and the urge to get dirty the moment they are washed?" she asked the world in general, looking down at a not-at-all remorseful Ryan, who was grinning brightly at his parents, his new clothes covered with mud and a fresh bruise starting to form on his cheek. She then took firm hold of his hand and led him into the main chamber where she conjured a tub of hot water.

"No! Mama!" the young boy protested mightily as she extracted him out of his mud-stiffened clothes. "I don' wan' a bath!" he wailed, his small fists clinging to her skirt as she attempted picking him up and putting him in the tub. "Mama!"

Ignoring the boy's complaints, she deftly deposited him in the hot water, immediately starting to scrub him clean. At the end of the ordeal there was one sullen and cleanly pink boy in a fresh set of clothes. Rowena ignored Ryan's antics, and instead turned to Godric, who was standing at the door to the drawing room with a giggling Ceri in his arms.

"You can go back to training now," she said. "I'll keep the little scoundrel in here. Hopefully nothing will be broken this time."

"Thanks, 'Wena," he said with a smile, putting down Ceri and striding to the front door of their quarters. His hand was already on the handle when he stopped, his back to her. "Helga seems to be spending a lot of time at the village," he then said in a would-be indifferent tone that fooled no one. As he turned back to face her, his expression, too, nullified his tone. With his eyebrows raised in question, Rowena knew very well what her husband wanted to know.

Sighing, she turned her back to him, picking Ceri up, and pretended to check if the child had soiled herself. After a while, knowing that he was still behind her, waiting for an answer, she said "I spoke to your mother the other day. Helga spends a lot of time at Sir Rhys' house, and I can tell you one thing - it is not Ceridwen's or Lleulu's company that she looks for."

"One of the boys?" he asked without hesitation.

"Ilar. They've... been spending a lot of time together since Helga and Salazar fell apart. I do believe that he had feelings for her for a very long time and was afraid to admit it since it was so clear that Helga was with Salazar. Almost all his brothers are on the way to marriage, or at least found themselves their hoped-for wives, but he hasn't even been looking."

"I see." She could hear the troubled tone in his voice and knew that he was contemplating whether to tell this to Salazar or not.

"It was his decision to make, Godric," she said softly. "For better or for worse, he had made it. Helga owes him no allegiance and it's none of his business if she sought for happiness in the arms of another man. He had hurt her when he told her he did not love her. She would have given him everything and he threw it back in her face. While I am worried for Salazar, I am happy that Helga is on her way to joy, be it lacking as it may."

He sighed and nodded, knowing that she was right. As he left, however, Rowena threw herself on one of the chairs in the main chamber and buried her face in her hands. She did not know what to do. She could not approach Helga about it, because then the sunny woman would be angry with her and would say that she was trying to control her life. But she could not help but think about what it would do to Salazar, who was only just beginning to recuperate from the whole matter. Either way, someone was about to suffer from this.

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Helga notified Rowena of her new relationship a short while later. The two women were sitting in the isolated drawing room while the men sat at the main chamber, keeping the children with them. Rowena was keeping Ryan firmly attached to her, building a palace from roughly hewn wooden blocks made for the boy by one of the Knights. She was too tired to run after him as he made use of his energy.

Helga, who was holding Ceri, chattering to her in a childish voice, had not said much since they had entered the room. Then, however, she let out a peculiar giggle and said, "Do you want to know a secret, Raven?" The grin she was wearing was wide enough to reach her ears.

"Oh?" Rowena said, raising her eyebrows in question.

Then, in a low, giggling voice, the same one Helga used to use when they were little girls in Caerwyn Valley, she told Rowena all about her relationship with Ilar. She spoke of it as though it was something naughty, but was delighted in it. She talked in length about how much Ilar loved her and how he was not afraid to tell her that and show it to her. Rowena grimaced inwardly, knowing perfectly well at whom this finely-pointed dart had been aimed.

Soon after that conversation, the rumour passed through the village. Ilar, son of Rhys, and Helga Hufflepuff were seen together. They were expected to announce their marriage any day now; they were about to elope; Mistress Hufflepuff was about to leave the school in order to raise a family with Ilar; Ilar was about to move into the Castle in order to be closer to 'his girl'.

Rowena was talking with Salazar the day he first heard those rumours. They were arguing over what kind of change could still be done at the Castle, what kind of décor could be added and if they should teach one of the House Elves how to do a proper bit of gardening. They were standing outside, on the front steps leading to the Castle. It was break time for the children and they were going in and out the Castle, chattering loudly as they went.

A passing pair of giggling girls walked into the Entrance Hall, and as they did, a part of their conversation drifted into Salazar's range of hearing, cutting over his argument with Rowena.

"-so cute together, aren't they? I mean, Ilar is absolutely perfect for Mistress Hufflepuff. They're the perfect pair."

"I know! Have you seen them together? It looks like a fairytale..."

At hearing these words, Salazar froze in mid-sentence, his dark eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

Rowena tilted her head to one side, looking at her friend cautiously, not sure of how to read the passive expression spreading on his face.

At length, he spoke. "Is that... true? Is what... those girls said... true?"

She could tell that he had a hard time even pronouncing these words, let alone voice what he now knew. His face was still unreadable to her, but his eyes betrayed him. Hurt, disbelief, and anger floated in those dark depths, and she did not know how to calm him. Knowing he was waiting for an answer, she sadly looked straight into his eyes and said "It's true, Salazar. Every word of it."

"Every - how long have you known?" The words were uttered in the same expressionless voice, and she could now see betrayal in his eyes in addition to the other emotions.

"For a while. I only suspected it at first, but she told me a couple of weeks ago. It's been going for quite a while," she said, not trying to apologize. As much as she loved him, it was none of his business.

"I should have known," he said softly, his entire face now showing defeat, not just his eyes. This time, his eyes were dead, and it frightened Rowena more than his anger and his pain. "Is she happy?"

"She is."

Without another word, Salazar turned his back to her and walked back into the Castle, dragging his feet as he did. Behind him, Rowena was left shaking her head and feeling helpless. She felt that feeling so often lately, ever since the Fallout, and she did not like it at all.

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"Raven, I'm getting married!"

Helga's excited squeal made Rowena look up from her children to see a bright Helga practically jumping with the joy of finally having Ilar ask her hand in marriage.

A treacherous part of Rowena's mind said in a small voice something along the lines of That didn't take long, now did it? And the less treacherous part, which was exceedingly happy for her friend, was still rational and continued that errant thought logically, wondering whether Helga's acting so quickly was not a rash action meant to cover for a still broken heart and a pain that would never really go away.

"That's wonderful, Helga," was what she said, however, smiling. "When is the wedding planned to be? Or have you not discussed that yet?"

"In half a year's time!" Helga almost sang, picking up Ceri and dancing with the giggling girl all about the room as was her wont. "Ceridwen said it was the best time, because then you will all have time to plan the best wedding for me. I wouldn't mind marrying him next week, if it was up to me," she laughed, "but when I told that to her, she almost had a fit. She said it would give people the wrong idea. I told her I didn't care, and she practically threw me out of the house and told me to tell you!"

Rowena knew precisely what 'wrong ideas' people could get. Ceridwen had made sure she and Godric knew that when they had timidly mentioned getting married as soon as possible. Privately, she entirely approved of Ceridwen rationalism, thinking that maybe it would give Helga time to think if this was really what she wanted.

As months rushed by, though, Helga's mind was still set. She wanted to marry Ilar, and she thought that it was the right thing, seeing nothing wrong with the idea. She was so excited that she counted down the days to the wedding on a piece of parchment she hung on one of the walls of her quarters, which Rowena was helping her redecorate and prepare for the second occupant that would arrive soon.

It was decided early on that Helga would not leave the Castle, and that Ilar would have to move into the Castle and into Helga's quarters after the wedding. The quarters were spacious and therefore it posed no problem. All there was to be done was to freshen the appearance of the room, because it would soon have a very changed purpose.

Helga's wedding gown was made of a fine, pale purple cloth, painstakingly embroidered with gold threads. The women who made it laboured for weeks before they thought it worthy of her. When it was finally ready, Helga twirled girlishly around the ground floor antechamber showing off the garment to the three of them.

Once she was done admiring the masterpiece, Rowena shifted her attention to Salazar. She and Godric had both watched him carefully since the announcement of the wedding, and as they had spoken alone late at night, they had both noted the deadened look often seen in his eyes. While around Helga he smiled and tried to seem happy for her, in an older brother sort of way, whenever her back was turned, lines of pain would appear on his face. When Ilar came visiting every so often, sitting with the four of them on their evening relaxation, Salazar would be cold to him whenever Helga's attention was away, his tone of voice bordering on the vehement.

Helga, to all appearances, noticed none of it.

And now, as she was dancing for their benefit around the room, excited at the upcoming wedding more than ever now that she had a solid affirmation that this was not but a dream, Salazar looked as though he was on the brink of tears. Rowena could see his handsome features contort as he tried keeping his emotions in check. She could see that no matter what he had said, he still loved Helga very much and was regretting his rash decision greatly. She also knew that his suffering was far from over: it was just two weeks from the day the wedding was scheduled to take place in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, to be attended by all the village people and the students.

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Rowena could see the light dying in Salazar's eyes when a smiling Helga said the final words of bonding, all the love in her small body projected not at him, but at a deliriously happy Ilar. Her heart ached for her friend, but she knew that this was his choice, as mistaken as it was. She shook the tears away. This was Helga's big day. Rowena refused to show any trace of sadness for her friend's sake.

Standing there with Godric and her children, watching her childhood friend marrying the man of her choice, she could not help but smile. Though tinged with sadness, there was no reason denying that this day proved beyond anything else the great change in their lives since the day two strangers had stumbled into their home's front room in the middle of a blizzard.

How innocent they were then, how certain they were that things would forever stay as they were. They were so naïve, thinking that the world was divided into rights and wrongs. They had been proven wrong on so many accounts since that day, over a decade before. They had learned about wrong truths and true wrongs. They had made mistakes, and they had done right. They had made friends, and they had made deadly foes. The world was not black and white. There were many shades of grey in the middle, and at that moment, standing by a family of her own and watching her friend about to start one herself, Rowena could see them all.

She was sad for Salazar, she truly was, but as she stood there, all she could think of was that it would all end well. It had to, because with all the pain and the tears, they were still one, big family, and family ties were stronger that anything else. Of that she was sure, and that was what had won the battle in favour of happiness.

As the Conductor of the Ceremony pronounced the couple married and the Bonding complete, Rowena ran to her friend and engulfed in a crushing hug.

Yes, she thought, tears of joy falling from her eyes. Everything is going to be fine.

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Less than two months after the wedding, a deeply flushed Helga entered Rowena and Godric's quarters without even knocking, immediately throwing her arms around Rowena's neck, hugging her tightly.

The shocked Rowena drew back and looked at her ecstatic friend critically. "You're with child," she said after a moment, not asking, surprised at the calm tone of her voice.

Helga nodded excitedly. Then she let go of Rowena and twirled about the room, picking up a giggling Ceri and dancing with her across the room, the girl's enjoyment clear to everyone in the room. It was one of her favourite pastimes, and she did not object it when he aunt flung her up into the air. Helga laughed with the girl and hummed happily and she danced, making Rowena smile in spite of herself.

"Does Ilar know?" she asked.

Helga paused in mid-step, then putting down the girl, sat down by Rowena. "Not yet. I thought I'd surprise him tonight. You know - a special dinner just for the two of us in our quarters, something romantic and magical... I just wanted you to be the first to know, because you are going to be the child's guardian and everything."

"I am?"

"Of course you are! Really, Raven! What kind of thing to ask! Who else could be?"

Rowena just smiled.

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The next three months were a hectic collection of days. The students of the Castle were once again ecstatic to hear of one of their teachers' pregnancy, replaying their behaviour during Rowena's two pregnancies. Ilar could often be spotted walking around the Castle or in the village with a ridiculously silly expression on his face, mirroring his pure delight at being a father soon enough. His brothers all congratulated him repeatedly, often taking him to Calanthe's to celebrate. Helga did not seem to mind, so Rowena grudgingly allowed Godric to join in the festivities. He had often dragged Salazar along with him, but both he and Rowena knew that their friend's heart was simply not in it. He had of course congratulated the expecting parents profusely, but as soon as he turned from then, Rowena could clearly see the tears and anger burning in his eyes.

The women of the village, many now related to the couple via Ilar's many brothers, entered a frenzy of preparing for the baby, gifts from them once again piling in the chambers of Hogwarts.

Sir Rhys, who had often complained that he would get no grandchildren from this son of his, was possibly the happiest of them all, stopping by at the Castle much more often that he had previously.

And in the midst of it all, late into the fourth month of Helga's pregnancy, a guest had arrived at the doors of Hogwarts, covered in a dark cloak, all her belongings in life on the back of a packhorse.

"Rosalind!" Salazar exclaimed as Rowena's mother entered the Entrance Hall, making Rowena whirl around from her place where she was discussing a subject from her lesson with a curious student. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd surprise you all. I'm here for good, children. I left the Glen for the last time," the older woman said with a sad smile. "I couldn't stay there anymore. I wanted to spend a little more time with my family - now that I have a good man that has married my daughter and two wonderful grandchildren. The Glen is just too far off."

Rowena could barely contain the happiness coursing through her at hearing this. She loved her mother dearly, and the long years apart had hurt them both more than either woman was prepared to admit. This was all in the past now, however. Now, Rosalind was here and everything could return to being happy and peaceful. Asking the young girl she was speaking with to postpone their discussion to a different time, she walked toward her mother with a bright smile.

"I brought a letter," Rosalind continued in an off-hand manner as she undid the brooch holding her cloak closed, clasping Godric's hand as he approached her. "She was only waiting for her husband to pass away to send it. I don't know how she located me - and she was lucky to find me before I left - but she begged me to give it to her daughter if I ever saw her again. She was not so sure whether it would be welcome or not, but I think she did not so much care about that as much as she cared that it would at least reach her."

Rowena stared at her mother in confusion, not really understanding what the older woman was trying to say. Whose daughter? Who wanted to send a letter to them?

Rosalind, who was now holding a crumpled piece of parchment in her hand, tapped her foot impatiently. "Come now! I'm not going to allow you to ignore it after I have gone to all that trouble to take down what she was dictating! Are you going to read your letter or not, Helga? I want to see my grandchildren!"

Ho-hum. Rosalind is back, and this time its for good! I like her so much, I've decided to bring her back to Hogwarts :) I know that this chapter has been a bit packed, but it's all for a good cause, remember that! I hope you have all enjoyed it, despite the tear between Helga and Salazar and everything in-between...

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

Magicalkairi: Congrats for getting your wish! And so soon after New Year's as well! :) I hope you didn't lose too much sleep though - as a person who absolutely adores sleeping. Anyhoo, thank you very much for your review! I'm glad you liked the relationship between Godric and his mother - he absolutely loves getting under her skin. Well, it is the tenth century - I figured people'd be a little sexist. Very glad you liked it! I hope you'd gotten your sleep back! :D

Siriusisnotgay267: They have won - Ambrosius was the glue that kept everyone together. Or rather, the insane whip-holder who urged them on... but then, of course, this story is still far from over... Eep. Yes, I can see where that bothers you. Sorry 'bout that, then - I wasn't apparently paying attention to what my mind was bringing up. Thanks for letting me know! I want snow, too! No fair!

Mischievous Marauder: Thank you very much! Did you think I'd leave them out? ;) 'sides - I don't think anyone could stop them from coming. Can't answer that second question, though - it would give too much away! Anyhoo, sure, I'd be happy to send you an alert whenever a chapter's up :)

Kitt: cliffies abound, indeed. But I love those, as you know :D I hope those questions about Rosalind have been answered! Thank you very much!

Graceedagger: Thank you!

Doxycide: Yep - deader than a plank o' wood, not coming back ever! Heh, Rowena did at some level of her mind that Ambrosius had the hots for her mother, but you're quite right, as you can see in this chapter - she was kind of creeped out herself. I actually never thought about that - but you're right, it does have some resemblance to that scene! Thank you!

AmethystPhoenix: Thank you so much! It made me very happy to hear that :) When I started writing this, oh, some three years ago, I think it was, I never thought to leave anything out - I just liked the concept of "from the beginning to the end", so I went with it - I'm very glad you liked it that way. And yes, this story updates every week, so I hope that you will continue reading and enjoying it!

Katalyst159: And it's very good that it made sense to you! I was afraid people will be all "What the-?" about it... Don't stop reviewing! I don't mind a little craziness! Truly I don't! :D Well, about foreshadowing... that will be left for you to decide... Glad you liked the part with Godric and Billius. One of my favourites in that chapter, in fact. I was very happy with it, myself. Thank you, and keep loving the story!

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