Hearts and Hourglasses

Reminder: Godric's alias is Godfrey Gloucester. Salazar's is Sextus Scaevola. Rowena's is Rachel Regius. Helga's is Hannah Hawthorn. Rowena cast a spell so that everyone who hears them will hear them referring to each other by their aliases, but to their own ears, they hear each other's real names. It's a complicated spell.

Hearts and Hourglasses
Chapter 32: Hierthent
Includes Interlude: Blue & Bronze

Early the next morning, Draco found himself standing in front of Lord Slytherin's door again. His eyes turned ceilingward, Draco almost sighed loudly. He was utterly exasperated with his father, who had absolutely refused to accept Draco's failure in persuading Lord Slytherin to break his word of debt to Wormtail.

I wish he'd deal with Lord Slytherin himself, thought an irritated Draco, but he soon composed his thoughts and did away with his objections. He would do as Lucius Malfoy wished, and this time, he would not fail. Draco took his father's wand from his pocket and cast Alohomora on the door. He heard the lock click open, and the handle turned easily when he tried it.

The door swung open silently, without a single creak. He saw Lord Slytherin still seated at the desk, slouched over it with a side of his face pressed amidst pieces of parchment on the table's surface. He was sleeping.

Draco hesitated momentarily before entering and stealthily heading over to the slumbering wizard. He stumbled when Lord Slytherin snored.

* * * * *

"Where are we going?" Salazar yawned, stretching, as he followed Draco out of the room. The boy didn't answer him, and Salazar crashed into him when he suddenly stopped.

Instinctively, his hands grabbed at Draco's shoulders for support, and he managed to steady himself despite having to blink away sleep from his blurry eyes. When they cleared, Salazar found himself looking at Wormtail, who was standing right in their way.

"Good morning, Peter," he greeted automatically in a somewhat listless tone of voice. Having been rudely awakened from a sound sleep just a short while ago, Salazar was still drowsy, else he would have noticed how tense Draco's muscles were underneath his fingers.

"Fair morning to you as well, Lord Slytherin," returned Peter in a voice that sounded small yet too high-pitched even to Salazar's drowsy-deadened ears. He frowned at Peter just as the other wizard said, "And where are you taking Lord Slytherin, Draco?"

"Diagon Alley," answered another person's voice. Peter whirled around, and Salazar looked over Peter's head to stare sleepily at Draco's father, who was heading their way.

... He looks just like Cassius- was Salazar's first thought, and he smiled wanly as he noted the Ilias features. Fair hair, pale eyes, aristocratic nose, square jaw. Then he frowned and glanced down to Draco, whose chin was more pointy than square.

A small chuckle escaped him, and Draco tilted his head up and looked at him. Worry and curiosity gleamed in his gray eyes at the same time. Then, those same eyes sharpened, Draco's mouth moved. Salazar didn't hear anything, but a word sounded in his mind.

Wake-up.

Suddenly, sleep cleared from his foggy mind, and Salazar straightened abruptly. His hands on Draco's shoulders tightened reflexively, and he felt the boy flinched.

"Diagon Alley?" repeated Peter in a dubious tone. "Why should Lord Slytherin go to Diagon Alley?"

"To buy a wand, of course," answered Draco's father smoothly.

* * * * *

A while later, Draco was pulling an immensely irritated Lord Slytherin from the dragon wall in Malfoy manor. The Dark wizard was frowning heavily and feeling his face, which now sported a very bushy white beard.

"How dare he give me this thing!" Lord Slytherin was ranting, and Draco jumped aside when the older wizard tried to get his wand out of his pocket.

"You have to keep the beard or you can't go to Diagon Alley without getting arrested." Draco struggled to keep his face serious. Lord Slytherin did look odd with the beard his father had given him.

"I don't care. I look ridiculous!"

"No, you don't," Draco lied. He was unable to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching, and Lord Slytherin glared at him warningly.

It was a while before Draco could convince Lord Slytherin to leave his beard alone so that they could proceed to Diagon Alley via the Floo Network. But before they could reach the nearest fireplace, they ran into Narcissa, Draco's mother, who insisted they have breakfast first. It was another hour before they could leave, and during that time, Draco alternated between feeling embarrassed, miserable, and just plain annoyed as his mother gushed to Lord Slytherin about how proud she was of her son.

* * * * *

"Sir, we have to go now!" Draco impatiently pulled Lord Slytherin away from the Quality Quidditch Supplies. They were here to get him a wand, not a broom.

That stupid Wormtail, Draco thought sourly as he led his much older charge towards Ollivanders. If he hadn't been there, Draco and his father would have gotten Lord Slytherin away from Voldemort. But since the rat had interfered, they would have to go along with the pretense that all they intended was to get Lord Slytherin a wand. Lucius had to remain behind with Wormtail. It would have been too suspicious for his father to go along with them.

Draco wanted to hurry and get this over with as soon as possible before Wormtail decided to inform Voldemort where they’d gone.

Strangely enough, creepy old Ollivander was waiting with a ready wand for Lord Slytherin when they arrived at his store.

His large moon eyes shining in the dim shop, Ollivander opened the box and took out the wand with a small smile. "You'll like this one," he murmured in a conspiratory tone of voice, handing the wand to Lord Slytherin who took it with a smile of his own, though it was hardly seen because of his hairy disguise.

Draco felt the hair on the back of his neck rise when Lord Slytherin received the wand. He imagined he saw the faintest green-tinged glow appear around the Dark wizard as he raised the wand. Then it vanished, and the nervous tension in his stomach eased as Lord Slytherin lowered the wand and said to Ollivander, "Basilisk's eyestalk."

Draco's jaw dropped as Ollivander nodded, saying, "The very last one. We haven't had a supplier for over a thousand years."

"Understandable," murmured Lord Slytherin as he pocketed his new wand, adding, "basilisks are very dangerous to breed."

"It's a shame they're so rare," commented Ollivander, actually sounding sad. "They have great magic, those Kings of Serpents."

They left the wand shop after Draco paid for the wand, but they didn't leave Diagon Alley immediately.

Draco stared up at the older wizard, who was standing in the middle of the street, head turning right to left and back, looking around eagerly. There was an excited gleam in Lord Slytherin's eyes, and Draco thought he looked like a kid whose parents were taking him to the toy store. A very tall kid with a full-grown beard.

"What's over there?" Lord Slytherin pointed up the street.

Draco protested, "We don't have time to sightsee, Sir."

"Nonsense," the other wizard declared. "We won't take up too much time." He marched further into Diagon Alley, his long strides quickly taking him away from Draco, who was stunned by this ridiculous situation of having to babysit Lord Slytherin. Moments later, the boy ran after the wizard before he lost sight of him.

Three hours later, they were sitting at a table with a bright blue umbrella in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. This was their last stop. Draco had somehow managed to strike a bargain with Lord Slytherin. He'd treat him to a sundae. ("Sundae?" the wizard inquired.) After which, they would leave Diagon Alley.

"What do you recommend?" Lord Slytherin asked Florean when the shopkeeper asked him which sundae he wanted.

"The House Specialty, of course!" Florean boomed. "New recipe. I guarantee it's the best one yet!" Then he scrutinized Lord Slytherin carefully, and Draco fervently hoped he wouldn't recognize him as Sextus Scaevola, whose picture had been published in all the newspapers and magazines with huge WANTED label printed underneath.

"I haven't seen you around here before, have I?" Florean commented to which Lord Slytherin automatically replied, "No, you haven't."

Draco's hand dug into his pocket and grabbed the dragon medallion Portkey, ready to take both of them back to Malfoy Manor if things got out of hand. Fortunately, Florean seemed more amused by Lord Slytherin than suspicious of him. He left to prepare their sundaes after Draco ordered two House Specialties, one for each of them. He needed some ice cream after the harrowing hours of keeping Lord Slytherin out of trouble.

His palm was sweaty as he took his hand out of his pocket. Muttering to himself, he cleaned his palm against the front of his robes. Engrossed with wiping, Draco didn't notice when Lord Slytherin's expression turned very serious.

"What spell did you use on me, Draco?"

The boy jumped, wide gray eyes snapping to the other wizard, who considered him intently. Draco didn't like the dangerous look in Lord Slytherin's eyes, and he opened his mouth to lie, to deny using a spell on him. The lie died unformed in his throat as green eyes narrowed, warning him not to be deceitful or to even consider it.

After many increasingly tensed moments, Draco gave in and confessed that he had used the Imperius Curse on him.

Green eyes widened slightly, taking on a curious glint instead. "The Imperius Curse," he murmured. "That is one of the Unforgivable Curses, correct?"

Draco nodded slowly, and Lord Slytherin mused thoughtfully, "Interesting spell, the Imperius Curse... I hadn't even realized I was under it until you commanded me to wake up." He stared intently at Draco and asked, "Why did you use Imperius on me, Draco?"

Draco hesitated for a long while before answering. "I had to get you out. You know why..." He had already told him about Lord Voldemort. Draco relaxed slightly when Lord Slytherin nodded.

"You were asleep," Draco explained quietly. "That's the best state for the castee to be in when the Imperius Curse is used."

Again, Lord Slytherin nodded slowly, brows furrowed as Draco continued, "Imperius uses hypnotic suggestions. It places the castee in a suggestive state similar to sleep or-"

"In dreams," finished Lord Slytherin somberly. "One is most susceptible in dreams," he stated with certainty as if knowing from experience that it was so. Then, he shook his head slightly. "Ingenious," he said in a rather reluctant tone of voice. When Draco gave him a questioning look, he said, "I suppose nothing less can be expected of a spell created by Regius Ravenclaw."

"... Who?" Draco stared at him, bewildered.

"Regius Ravenclaw," repeated Lord Slytherin, and he elucidated, "He's Rachel's father."

It took Draco a second to remember that Rachel was Rowena Ravenclaw's alias, and he became more puzzled.

"Ravenclaw created Imperius?" He queried in a rising disbelieving tone of voice. When Lord Slytherin nodded, Draco had to struggle with the realization that a Light wizard had created the Imperius Curse.

He was further startled when Lord Slytherin chuckled, commenting, "I'll never forget the look on Rachel's face when we found out about the Unforgivable Curses... or Godfrey's face for that matter."

Again puzzled, Draco was going to ask what he meant by that when Florean came back with their order. Thoughts of the Unforgivable Curses fled Draco's mind when he saw the new House Specialty Sundae.

The mound of ice cream was a foot high and a foot thick at the base. Scoops of ice cream of at least a dozen different flavors and colors filled a bowl the size of a Pensieve. Six kinds of syrup -- chocolate, strawberry, blueberry, vanilla, caramel, and one Draco didn’t recognize -- ran down in generous globby lines from the sundae’s tapered top to its impressive bottom.

Nuts of all kinds were sprinkled all around the sundae. There were large dollops of whipped cream, cookie crumbs, marshmallows, fruit slices and bits, and of course, the large shiny red cherry on the very top of the sundae.

Draco stared helplessly at the huge sundae he had to eat. He'd need Crabbe and Goyle to help him finish off this monster.

Suddenly, there was a curse from the other wizard, and Draco looked up from his sundae.

He froze when he saw Lord Slytherin's face.

* * * * *

Laughter distracted Lupin from his reading. He looked up from his book and glanced around to the source of hilarity. Lying beside his chair, Sirius lifted his head as well as his nap had been interrupted by the noise.

Lupin frowned when he saw a very familiar pale-haired boy seated at a table not far from Lupin's.

"Stop laughing," complained the bearded wizard accompanying the boy. He was also very familiar to Lupin, who couldn't help but smile when saw what the boy found so amusing. Ice cream was clinging to the wizard's impressive facial hair, particularly around his mouth.

Sirius suddenly whimpered, and Lupin glanced down to see the huge black dog, that was his friend, give him a hopeful look. He rolled his eyes. "No, Snuffles. You've had too much ice cream already." He didn't see his friend look towards the two huge sundaes on the other table though Lupin did hear him made a deep pitiful moan that was too loud for Lupin's comfort. People were beginning to stare at them.

"Bad dog," muttered Lupin as he put away his book into his briefcase. Tongue lolling in a doggish version of a cheeky grin, Sirius clambered to his four feet the same time Lupin stood up from his chair. He gave his canine friend a warning look to behave as they approached the wizard and boy.

"Draco?" He called out.

Immediately, the boy stopped laughing, his face whirling towards Lupin with a look of panic on it. "You!" he blurted at Lupin, then he suddenly plunged his hand into his pocket. Thinking he was going for his wand, Sirius reacted instinctively, breaking into a run and knocking Draco off his chair. Draco's head hit the ground with a solid thunk. He went limp, and his hand jerked out of his pocket. Something shiny flew out, and it hit the cobblestone pavement with a sharp clang. It wasn't a wand.

"Snuffles, get off him!" Lupin shouted, running forward to see if Draco was all right. He ran headlong into what felt like a solid wall and was thrown back violently. As he fell to the pavement, he heard Sirius yelp then fell silent.

* * * * *

"What happened?!" Harry was close to tears. On the hospital bed was the petrified canine body of his godfather.

"It will be all right, Harry," Lupin said softly, placing a reassuring hand on the boy's trembling shoulder. "He'll be fine. As soon as a potion made from Mandrakes is ready, he'll be back to his usual boisterous self again."

"Which will be very soon," said Madam Pomfrey smartly as she entered with the room with a smoking flask in her hand. "Stand aside, please," she said professionally as she held the flask over the prone dog.

Harry and Lupin stepped back, and Pomfrey poured the entire contents of the flask on Sirius.

* * * * *

"How is he?" Narcissa looked up from her son to see Salazar enter the room. The wizard looked worried, and his concern only abated slightly when she told him that Draco was fine. "He's just sleeping right now."

Salazar nodded silently at this and left.

* * * * *

"You are fortunate," Godric somberly told Sirius, who gawked at him.

"Fortunate?" complained Harry's godfather. "I got petrified, and you say I'm fortunate?"

"Calm down, Sirius."

Helga turned her eyes away from the raven-haired wizard lying on the bed to his fair-haired friend standing beside it.

"Remus, I'm not calming down. Slytherin petrified me!"

"I can't blame him. You attacked Draco first, and you're huge and scary in your Animagus form."

"I am not," protested Sirius and belatedly added, "I thought he was getting his wand out."

"You thought wrong," countered Remus with an irritated glare at Sirius. "I can only hope Draco isn't seriously injured. His head struck the ground quite hard."

It was a good thing Sirius had the grace to look flustered and guilty about it. Had he not cared that he had attacked someone without good reason, Helga would be very angry at him right now. Instead, she smiled, pleased with Remus, who was still annoyed with Sirius. Her impression of him was proven correct. He clearly possessed good sense, which his friend seemed to lack completely.

"What did Draco try to get out of his pocket?" asked Harry, interrupting Remus and his godfather. He was standing on Sirius' other side, opposite Remus, who looked startled by the question. But he quickly recovered and reached into his pocket. He pulled out what appeared to be a medallion.

Helga frowned when she saw it was a dragon medallion. Godric, with an intrigued expression, asked Remus if he could examine it. Rowena moved closer to him as did Albus and Minerva.

Godric slowly turned it around in his fingers. It was Rowena who identified what it was.

"It's a Portkey," she said with certainty, and they all looked at her curiously, wondering how she knew that.

Albus' eyes lit, and he took the medallion from Godric.

"This must be how Draco got out of Hogwarts," Albus murmured, adjusting his glasses before peering at it carefully.

"Can we use it?" queried Harry.

"I doubt anyone but Draco can use it," Remus answered. "Personal Portkeys are usually keyed to only one person."

"Or to people who are blood-related," added Albus. "In any case, it is useless to us. If we tamper with it, its magic will dispel itself. Or worse, take us to a place where we wouldn't want to be in."

As he handed the Portkey back to Godric, Minerva, with a thoughtful look on her face, said, "Lord Slytherin must have a wand now. A wand is needed to do Dark magic that advanced."

Helga was alarmed when she heard this as was Godric and Rowena. "A wand?" She repeated, drawing their attention.

Minerva nodded slowly, and Godric said, "Any wand will do now?" When their faces turned puzzled, he quickly explained, "In our time, only one kind of wand can petrify a person. Wands with basilisk eyestalk cores."

Stunned silence filled the room, and it was Sirius who broke the quiet. "This is the first time I've heard of wands with cores like that," he commented, sounding disquieted.

Godric sighed wearily, and Rowena said softly, "Time changes things." Helga agreed with a nod, saying, "Petrify used to be a fatal curse. There was no cure for it a thousand years ago."

"That's why I said you are fortunate," Godric said to Sirius, whose face slowly turned horrified with realization. Harry blurted, "You mean Lord Slytherin meant to kill him?"

The three of them nodded at the same time.

* * * * *

There was a single knock on his door, and Draco looked towards it curiously. "Come in," he called out, wincing at the same time when the big bump on the back of his head throbbed in pain. He was lying on his stomach on the bed. He preferred this position since the location of his head injury made it painful to lie on his back.

The handle turned, and the door slowly swung open. Draco smiled when he saw it was Lord Slytherin. He pushed himself up to a sitting position as the wizard entered his room.

"Hello, Draco," greeted Lord Slytherin with a smile (he was clean-shaven now). Draco stared at him curiously. The other wizard had his hands behind his back.

* * * * *

When Godric checked his parchment to see if Salazar had written him a message, he found a single sentence on it.

I know what to do, Godric.

* * * * *

Draco was staring at a castle, a miniature glistening white castle revolving slowly before him with its base in a Pensieve. He barely heard Lord Slytherin when he murmured, "Your father gave this bowl to me when I asked him for a thought vessel."

His eyes were beginning to feel tired and blurry, and Draco realized he hadn't blinked since Lord Slytherin showed him the castle. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before asking the other wizard, "What is this place?"

There was nostalgia in green eyes as their owner also gazed at the castle. "This is Hierthent, Draco."

Draco blinked and tore his eyes away from it to stare at Lord Slytherin instead. "Hierthent..." He repeated it softly as if tasting the name in his mouth. "... This is the Thirteen's stronghold!" He looked back at it, not seeing the warm pride in the other wizard's eyes as he glanced at Draco.

After many silent seconds, Draco murmured, "It's beautiful." There was an ache inside his heart, which he couldn't explain as he continued looking at Hierthent. His eyes marked its numerous towers and turrets. Like Hogwarts, it was perched atop a mountain.

"... Why are you showing this to me?"

He answered, "Because I am going to give Hierthent to you, Draco."

* * * * *

"Hierthent?" Avery stared at Malfoy with disbelief, the expression of skepticism on his face clearly telling the other wizard that he thought him mad.

Indeed, Avery had the right to question Malfoy's sanity. Hierthent was considered little more than a myth even amongst their kind who kept the story of the Thirteen alive. It was a fortress built over a thousand and five hundred years ago, created to serve as the headquarters of the most powerful Dark wizarding organization of that era.

Legends say that Hierthent was constructed by Muggles, who had been bewitched by the architect magicians commissioned to design and to build the castle. It is said that tens of thousands of Muggles had died during the construction of Hierthent.

The castle, itself, was rumored to be have been made completely out of marble, which came to no surprise. Marble was a building material which could be imbued with magic, and which held it the longest.

Hierthent was also said to hold treasure beyond imagination. It had been a seat of power for half a millennium and housed not only elite Dark wizards, but it was also the equivalent of Gringotts in that far time.

"You don't have to come, Avery," Lucius said dryly and turned his expression bland and innocent when Avery hesitated. Lucius knew full well that Avery would never miss this opportunity to find Hierthent if it truly existed.

He turned his eyes from the other wizard to check on the House Elves packing clothes and supplies into several bags, all of which seemed too small to hold the many items being placed in them. Narcissa was supervising the Elves. Their eyes met, and Narcissa smiled at him. Lucius' lips curved back automatically.

Avery sighed loudly. Lucius turned back to him just as the other wizard said, "You're taking your wife along on this expedition." He commented dubiously.

"And what is wrong with me coming along?" Both wizards turned to see Narcissa walking towards them with a questioning eyebrow arched up at Avery.

"Wives should stay at home," answered Avery firmly, and Lucius struggled to keep from looking too amused as Narcissa and Avery glared at each other.

"Perhaps we should ask others to join us," suggested Nott, who took a step away from Avery. Lucius did the same at the same time gesturing at Crabbe and Goyle to stand clear. The last time Narcissa and Avery had argued, Nott had gotten hexed in the ensuing crossfire.

"There isn't time," said Lucius, warily eyeing his wife and Avery still trying to strike the other dead by just using their eyes. Wands were going to be drawn out very soon.

Fortunately, an excited Draco dashed into the atrium in time to prevent a duel. Lucius smiled as his son began checking the bags himself, bothering the House Elves gathered around them.

Suddenly, loud footsteps were heard, and a tall broad-shouldered wizard stomped into the atrium through the entrance opposite the way Draco came in.

Everybody's face lit up when they saw him. Draco was the first to greet him. "Uncle Belsen!" He ran towards Macnair, who grabbed him in a bearhug. "Draco! How's my favorite nephew?" He boomed, embracing the boy so hard that both Lucius and Narcissa quickly went over to rescue their son from suffocation.

"Good you could come, Macnair.” Crabbe had finally said something. Goyle simply nodded, the action almost missed due to the pudginess of his jaw and the thickness of his neck. Macnair sighed loudly when he saw the two of them, and everyone else moved away when he started reprimanding the two hefty wizards that they had grown fatter since the last time he saw them.

"A hundred galleons on Macnair." Lucius heard Nott murmur to Avery, who accepted the wager. The cheery atmosphere of the gathering dissipated abruptly when Voldemort and Wormtail arrived.

* * * * *

It was a tense group that left Malfoy manor on broomsticks. On their way to the rendezvous with Lord Slytherin, everyone kept tossing glares and wary looks at Wormtail. Voldemort had deigned to accompany them, but they knew that he saw and heard everything that the rat witnessed and perceived.

Three broom lengths behind Wormtail, Draco stared at the very center of the rat's back, wishing he could hex him. If only Lord Slytherin had not requested that Wormtail join them.

Why does he have come along?

I owe him my life, Draco, and I'm certain he will want to see Hierthent. I doubt I can erase my debt to Peter before my time here is through. Understand that will not rest easy with me. I must pay my debt as much as I can. Besides, I am giving Hierthent to you, not to Peter.

That was fortunate for Wormtail. Draco knew that if Lord Slytherin had decided to give the Thirteen's castle to Wormtail instead, his father wouldn't let the rat live, despite the consequences of reprisal from Voldemort. Hierthent was far too important to be handed to Wormtail.

They landed when they were well outside the boundaries of the manor and Apparated to their destination. Having not yet learnt to Apparate and Disapparate, Draco had to stand between his parents, who kept their hands on his shoulders.

When they arrived, they found Lord Slytherin and the other Founders waiting for them atop winged horses.

* * * * *

"Finally, they're here." Salazar smiled warmly at them. They, on the other hand, were staring at him in horror.

The tall fair-haired wizard behind Draco was the first to recover from shock. "Are you out of your mind?!" He yelled, gesturing at the other wizard to get down from his horse.

"What's the matter with them?" Helga asked Rowena, who smiled and murmured to her that they were afraid of the horse Salazar was riding. Godric heard her and asked why.

"They think Thestrals are unlucky," answered Rowena with amusement.

Meanwhile, Salazar had gotten off his Thestral, which reared in panic when two of the newcomers rushed at it suddenly, yelling and waving their arms to scare it away. Salazar was very irked when his mount turned invisible and flew away.

Rowena quickly explained to Salazar, who looked tempted to pull out his wand. Helga watched as Draco suddenly ran towards the Dark wizard. She couldn't help but be amused at how quickly Salazar regained his temper when he saw Draco. The boy began making introductions, beginning by referring to the four of them by their aliases. There was recognition when they heard their names. As Dumbledore had warned them, they were infamous. Sextus Scaevola was considered an escaped convict while Godfrey Gloucester was wanted for immediate incarceration in Azkaban for casting the Cruciatus Curse on a fellow human being. Rachel Regius and Hannah Hawthorn were considered as their accomplices.

Helga knew she should have followed her instincts and refused to agree to the Dark Arts session. That was the very last time she would listen to Salazar. For now, she turned her attention to Draco who was introducing his companions to them. There were seven wizards and one witch.

The tall wizard who had shouted at Salazar was Draco's uncle Belsen Macnair. The ones who had scared the Thestral away were Tolon Avery and Oliver Nott. The two heavy-set wizards Draco simply referred to as Crabbe and Goyle. Helga wondered at this, but there wasn't any sign of disrespect from Draco, and Crabbe and Goyle didn't seemed to mind at all. They nodded slowly rather ponderously at them when they were introduced. The wizard who looked a great deal like Draco was his father, Lucius Malfoy, and the witch standing beside him was his wife, Narcissa. The last wizard, who was introduced, Draco clearly didn't like. In a reluctant tone of voice, he said he was Peter Pettigrew.

So he's the one who rescued Salazar from the Dementors, thought Helga as she considered Peter. He was a short pudgy wizard with thinning hair. He seemed nervous about something, his small mouse-like eyes darting all over the place. When they met Helga's eyes, Peter turned away quickly to stare for a much longer time at Rowena. He was reluctant to take her eyes off her. They skipped over Godric as if he didn't exist to finally settle on Salazar with an intent gaze.

Helga didn't trust him.

* * * * *

Godric somehow managed to recapture the Thestral. This was fortunate, because Salazar would never stop complaining if he had to ride on another breed. He was the only one riding a black winged horse. The witches were all riding winged chestnuts (Aethonans) while most of the other wizards rode fast Granians. The three largest of their group, Macnair, Crabbe and Goyle, went on giant palominos known as Abraxans.

"Why must we use winged horses?" Nott asked curiously about three hours into flight. Helga glanced back at him and noticed that the wizard was having trouble controlling his steed, which kept tossing back its head as if irritated by its rider's handling.

"Within sight of Hierthent, brooms are useless," answered Salazar, then he looked back with a small smile. "Actually, almost all magic will be useless."

"What?!" Avery urged his mount to fly faster and drew head with Salazar. "What do you mean it's useless?"

"You'll see," said Salazar cryptically.

"Will there be wild beasts?" Helga looked over to Macnair having a different conversation with Godric.

"Of course." She didn't like the look of anticipation on Godric's face. "The forest near Hierthent is one of the best hunting areas I know of."

Draco was talking to his father. "How long until we get there?"

"Draco, how am I suppose to know that?"

"Are you tired, Draco?" asked his mother with quiet concern.

"No, I'm all right." The boy shook his head rapidly, but Helga could see he was beginning to look exhausted. She looked to Rowena, who turned towards her. A moment later, Rowena suggested to Salazar that they have a respite. The Dark wizard was reluctant, but when he saw Draco's tired face, he agreed that they should land for a while.

* * * * *

Draco almost slid off his horse as it touched ground. His uncle quickly grabbed him, and he and Draco's father helped him down. Narcissa quickly conjured a bed for him to sleep on, and Draco nodded off the moment he lay down on it.

Lucius was apologetic, explaining that his son had been so excited about the trip that he hadn’t slept properly the night before. He turned apoplectic when Peter snidely commented that Draco shouldn't have come along in the first place.

Macnair, who seemed to be the peacekeeper of the bunch, quickly stepped in between the two wizards, said loudly that there was a river nearby and suggested that some of them take their horses to it for a drink of water.

Godric volunteered, which meant Macnair went along as well. The two wizards seem to have a lot in common. Macnair then prodded Peter to go along with them. Before the latter could protest, Macnair plucked the much shorter wizard from the ground and placed him atop one of the Granians. They went off before Peter could get down.

Meanwhile, looking bored, Avery and Nott had taken out cards and dice and challenged Crabbe and Goyle to a game. The wizards conjured up a table and four chairs, and Helga watched with amusement as they started playing.

"Why did you insist that Draco come along?" Helga turned to Lucius who was talking with Salazar. Both wizards were standing beside Draco's bed, and Helga noted the odd way Salazar considered Lucius.

"I believe Draco is the key," Salazar said solemnly, and he stopped at that, not explaining further. Lucius frowned at him and this answer and looked ready to demand that Salazar explain what he said.

But Avery interrupted them. "Sextus Scaevola," he called out, and they turned towards the card table as Avery stood up from his chair. His shrewd eyes coolly met Salazar's gaze.

"Tell us how you four know where Hierthent is located."

* * * * *

Avery... The other wizard's name took an exasperated route through Lucius' mind as he tried to silently warn him off with his eyes. But Avery was ignoring him. He moved away from the table, where Nott, Crabbe and Goyle were also beginning to stand up. Avery stopped three paces from Slytherin, who was considering Avery with amusement and a half-smile.

Lucius' skin crawled when he saw that smile. Though he didn't know why, it reminded him of Voldemort. There were similarities between the two wizards. Both had tall thin builds and facial features so sharp, they seemed to be have been chiseled into the flesh. Their eyes, though of different hues, had the same paralyzing effect on people staring into them.

Even now, Avery was starting to look uncomfortable as he struggled to keep his eyes locked on Slytherin's. Or maybe he was fighting to look away.

It is true then. Lucius stared at Slytherin, whose smile was now reminiscent of the cat who ate the bird. ... He really is Voldemort's ancestor.

Then Slytherin told Avery, "I am Lord Voldemort's son."

... Lucius forced himself to sit down on the edge of Draco's bed before his legs gave way in shock. He swallowed hard, trying to ease the choking sensation in his throat, which he knew would be rapidly be turning into laughter if he wasn't careful. He had to keep his face serious.

Avery was so stunned he looked like he would fall over on his back if someone poked him in the chest. Nott, Crabbe and Goyle slowly lowered themselves back in their chairs. Ravenclaw was looking at Slytherin with amusement while Hufflepuff looked disgusted. Narcissa, who had been sitting beside Draco, reached over and tugged at her husband's sleeve. Lucius jerkily turned towards her and almost burst out laughing when she winked at him in a conspiring manner. She was taking great enjoyment in witnessing an utterly confused and speechless Avery.

Narcissa knew about the Founders, of course. Lucius hadn't wanted her to know, but he had had very little success in keeping secrets from her. For one thing, she knew how to brew Veritaserum.

"Impossible!" Avery finally managed to find his voice. "You can't be Lord Voldemort's son!" he protested. He took a step back from Slytherin, his face frightened and trying to hide his fear. The very idea of challenging Voldemort's son was a fatal thought, and even though Avery still had doubts that Sextus Scaevola was who he say he was, he didn't dare question his authority now. Avery was that terrified of Voldemort, and Lucius lost his amusement with a sickening start. He too was afraid of Voldemort. Fear was a very powerful emotion, and that was the only thing now binding many of the Death Eaters to Voldemort.

Lucius knew that once Azkaban was taken, and the followers who had remained faithful, like the Lestranges, were released, Voldemort would do away with the ones who had betrayed him, who had denounced him, who had proven themselves less than worthy of his trust. He would then fill the empty ranks of his Circle with their children. He had already begun courting the Slytherins newly graduated from Hogwarts and even began contacting those, who were still at school. He had begun training them to replace their traitorous parents.

Immersed in his own thoughts, Lucius missed the meaningful glance Slytherin gave to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

* * * * *

Salazar is right, thought Rowena. They are so fearful of this Voldemort. She had to shield her mind when abject terror screamed silently from the Avery. The emotion was much lesser in intensity from Nott, Crabbe and Goyle, but Rowena still sensed a strong underlying fear from them. Lucius, at first, had radiated amusement at Salazar's lie. However, anger and fear had replaced it, and Rowena felt the same from his wife.

Rowena looked towards Narcissa, who was staring at her husband. Rowena had immediately liked the other witch when they first met. She reminded her of Helga. Narcissa was worried for husband and son and fearful for their safety.

"Why?" Someone suddenly asked, and all turned towards Nott, who tensed when Salazar's eyes rested on him. After a few moments, he continued, "Why is it we never heard about you until now?" When Salazar's brow quirked upwards, Nott said sagely, "Surely, Lord Voldemort would have spoken of you... If indeed, you are his son."

Salazar's face turned slightly crestfallen as he answered, "Because he doesn't know I am his son."

Except for utterly exasperated Helga, they all relaxed when they heard this. Avery blinked and looked at Salazar in a new light. There was sympathy in his expression. "Illegitimate," he said softly, and Salazar being an excellent actor, even flinched while putting up a brave front at the same time.

Rowena covered her mouth to hide her smile as Helga rolled her eyes skyward.

* * * * *

Draco woke up shortly afterwards, and after a light meal, they continued on their way. Lucius didn't know whether to think of Slytherin as very clever or downright insane. He had completely fooled the other four wizards into thinking he was Voldemort's illegitimate son. Macnair, when he came back with Gryffindor & Wormtail, was also taken in by the sob story Slytherin had told to the others.

According to the tale, Voldemort had met his mother forty years ago. They had had a short affair, after which Voldemort had left, not knowing she was pregnant. When his mother had given birth to him, she had decided to raise him on her own. He had been accepted into Hogwarts and sorted into Slytherin (of course). After graduation, he had wanted to locate his fater, who he knew to be the Dark Lord Voldemort, but his mother had begged him not to confront his father. She had grown fearful of Voldemort. (Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle and Macnair understood this perfectly.) So instead he had turned his attention to reseraching Hierthent and finding the lost castle of the Thirteen. This was his mother’s life-long passion and dream. Unfortunately, she had died before her work was finished, and her son had vowed to contine her search for Heirthent.

Slytherin continued the story by saying that when he and his companions were finally certain of Hierthent's location, they had approached the Ministry to request for funding for an expedition to the site of the Thirteen's stronghold. Their proposal was rejected outright, and they had decided instead to request support from Headmaster Dumbledore of Hogwarts. Dumbledore needed time for his staff to examine their research and findings so he asked them to stay at the school in the meanwhile. Slytherin then said that he had been aghast by how little the students were learning about the Dark Arts, and he persuaded Dumbledore to let him and his friends hold a session on it. What happened next was common knowledge.

Ever a stickler for detail, Nott had asked why Voldemort had rescued him from Azkaban when he didn't even know he was his son. Slytherin blithely answered that somehow his father had found out about his research on Hierthent. Here, he glanced at Wormtail, who squeaked that he had found out about it while spying at Hogwarts. "As a rat," Lucius had added, and how the rat quavered when many a pair of eyes settled on him with feline gleams. Unfortunately, Slytherin seemed protective of Wormtail. There was genuine gratitude in his voice when he mentioned that it was Wormtail who rescued him from the Dementors.

This then produced another question, this time from Avery, who demanded to know how Wormtail rescued Scaevola from Azkaban. He was surprised and infuriated when Wormtail explained in a very irritating, superior manner that it had been easy to infiltrate Azkaban in his Animagus form. All he had to do was bring along a Portkey and find Scaevola's cell.

"Why don't you rescue the others from Azkaban then?!" Avery snarled at him. He turned deathly pale when Wormtail softly answered, "What makes you think they haven't been rescued already?"

During the second leg of their journey to Hierthent, Lucius kept thinking that Slytherin was bald-faced liar, and he hoped dearly that Wormtail was the same.

* * * * *

"You are a bald-faced liar, Salazar."

"I know, Godric. Don't you just love me?"

Godric snorted at his friend's quip and shaking his head, poured water from the pail he was carrying into a kettle set on a tripod over a magical blue fire.

Rowena smiled. They had set up camp near a beautiful lake in a valley that apparently had never been discovered by humans. She looked all around her. The spot they had chosen was a few minutes' walk away from a rocky ledge that overlooked the serene surface of the lake. She was tempted to go for a walk there after dinner.

She looked back to their fire just as Helga stood up to place tealeaves in the kettle. There were four tents in their camp. Draco's family had a fancy embroidered silver tent. Avery, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle were sharing a plainer-looking tent. Macnair, the only one who didn't seem to mind Peter, had offered to share a tent with the smaller wizard. The four Founders were sharing a tent that Dumbledore had loaned them. Actually, they had been given two tents, but the four of them were far too comfortable with each other's presence to bother with putting up two tents. Besides, there were two bedrooms in one tent complete with a bathroom, a kitchen and a lounging area.

The other wizards were already inside their tents, which were glowing brightly, lit from the inside. Rowena could hear guffaws and complaints from the one of the tents. It seemed a game was in progress.

"Crabbe, why did you show our cards?!" It was Avery's voice.

The deep slow voice, that followed, mumbled, "Nott said he wanted to see our cards."

Avery sounded very tired. "Crabbe, we're playing against them. You don't show our cards to Nott again, do you understand?"

And it became quiet again. The only sounds Rowena heard were the ubiquitous sounds of nature, the tea kettle silently boiling and the faintest flicking of cards being shuffled and divided. A few moments later, there was another uproar.

"Crabbe! I told you not to show our cards!"

"... Nott told me to show them to Goyle."

"... Oh, for the love of- I quit!"

"Good," Nott said dryly. "You can prepare dinner then."

"Shut up!"

Godric laughed, and Helga shook her head with amusement. Salazar sat up, smiling. He had been lying on the ground in a full stretch. Rowena quietly commented, "Crabbe is pretending." Three sets of eyes looked at her curiously, and she continued, "They tease Avery to distract him."

"What do you mean, Rowena?" asked Godric. Helga frowned thoughtfully while Salazar continued to regard her silently.

She closed her eyes for a few moments before answering in a soft tone, "He had been broken recently." Rowena could sense the pain from the other wizard. He had been tortured not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. His ego had been battered and bruised so badly, Rowena was surprised that he still retained a sense of stubborn dignity. She was impressed by how tightly Avery was holding onto it. However, his grip on it was very fragile. Once broken, he would be lost, reduced to nothing more than a shadow of his former self.

"Tortured, you mean," said Salazar. Rowena looked towards him just as he turned away. Helga demanded in a low tone, "Did Voldemort had anything to do with it?"

Rowena nodded, and fury filled Helga's face.

"Where is he, Salazar?" she snapped at him, but he didn't answer her. Rowena's heart sank when she couldn't hear a single thought from him.

He is getting better at hiding his thoughts, Rowena thought, feeling helpless. Not only was he protecting himself from her, he was also distancing himself from Godric and Helga. A shard of fear suddenly pierced her heart.

"You're planning to stay," she whispered, and at this Godric grew alarmed and angry.

"Is this true, Salazar?" He demanded, and the three of them were startled when Salazar stood up abruptly and walked away. They quickly rose to their feet as well and went after him. They didn't see a figure darting from one of the tents and following them.

* * * * *

"Salazar!" A hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly yanked him around. Godric was furious, but Salazar wasn't afraid. He didn't resist when the other wizard pushed him backwards. His back hit hard against a tree trunk. His eyes closed at the sudden bruising pain, and he barely felt the hands that grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him forward again.

"Godric, leave him alone," Rowena pleaded. Helga pulled Godric away from Salazar, who slumped back against the tree.

"You promised, Salazar!" When he opened his eyes, he saw Godric staring at him, still angry, but there was another emotion in his brown eyes. It was hurt, and not understanding why, Salazar suddenly felt worthless. It was the worse feeling he had ever experienced.

Leave me alone... "Leave me alone," he told them hoarsely, and before they could stop him, he ran away from them, further into the woods.

* * * * *

"Salazar!" Rowena tried to go after him, but Helga held her back, telling her to leave him be for a while. She also prevented Godric from following Salazar by stepping directly in his path.

"You don't understand, Helga." Rowena's eyes pleaded with Helga's. "We're losing him."

Helga sighed. "I can't read minds, Rowena. I believe Salazar just need some time to himself. You're overreacting."

"No, she isn't," Godric suddenly said. Helga looked at him curiously. He was staring over her head at the direction Salazar had taken.

"There's something wrong with Salazar," he said softly. Rowena glanced at him with surprise, and she whispered, "You see it as well, Godric?"

He nodded, and Helga looked at them, puzzled. Their words were so cryptic it seemed like they were speaking in a foreign language.

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

Godric hesitated in answering so it was Rowena who explained first. "I can't hear anything from him just now," she said softly, and Helga frowned at her.

"Rowena, Salazar has been controlling his thoughts and hiding them from you for years. I'm certain sooner or later, he will have perfected the technique."

Blue eyes met hers sharply. "No," Rowena declared with quiet certainty, "Salazar can never hide his thoughts from me fully. It is impossible for him."

"Why is that?" asked Godric.

"Because I know him." There was a sudden emotion that flashed through Rowena's face, and Helga was startled when she recognized it though its appearance was fleeting. It was guilt. "... Please explain, Rowena," Helga said.

A small tired smile curved Rowena's lips, but the look in her eyes were hard. Helga was caught off-guard. She had never seen Rowena look this way before.

* * * * *

When I was a child, Salazar kidnapped me to learn MindRead from me.

The twelve year old girl was furious. She stared at the door, which she had braced closed with a chair. How dare he call me a brat! Rowena tensed when she heard footsteps approaching. She eyed the door handle narrowly as it turned but only slightly. She had locked it. There was moment's pause before she heard the faint unmistakable sound of a spell being cast. After which, the handle turned again, this time, fully. The door was pushed inwards, and chair legs made scraping noises against the floor as it held the door shut. A second later, the Dark wizard stopped trying to force the door open.

Rowena backed away then, anticipating he would use another spell, this time to destroy the door or more likely, to Apparate himself into the room. How surprised she was when she heard him walking away.

He was very strange. He never got angry with me no matter what I did to irritate him.

Rowena looked at him challengingly as he surveyed the mess she had made in his kitchen. She was confused when the fury she expected failed to appear on his face. Instead, he smiled at her before taking out his wand and starting to clean his kitchen. "You know where the bath is, little brat. I suggest you go there and tidy yourself up. You caused as much damage to your own person as you did to my kitchen."

I agreed to teach him MindRead, but he couldn't learn it. No one can. In the month I was imprisoned in his house, he never heard a single thought from me. Finally, he decided to return me to my father.

"You're going to return me tomorrow?" Rowena blinked when he patted her on the head.

"That's right, little bird," he said with a smile, teasingly adding that he was finally going to have some much needed peace and quiet.

She didn't find it funny, but he didn't notice the hurt look on her face as he had turned his attention back to his work.

I like him, Rowena realized, finding that she had to blink back tears as she stared at him. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he leaned over the table in the library to examine what looked like a ball.

"Will I ever see you again?"

He didn't even glance at her as he answered in an absent-minded fashion. "I doubt it, little bird. You and I belong to opposite sides."

It is best we never see each other again.

* * * * *

"What did you do then?" Godric was staring at Rowena as if she was a stranger to him. Helga couldn't blame him. She thought she knew every important event that had happened in Rowena's life. She could have at least told them that it had been Salazar who kidnapped her when she was only twelve years old. That incident had caused a huge uproar. Helga remembered the chaos in the villages, towns, even in the countryside as wizards and witches searched everywhere for the missing Ravenclaw heir. Though Rowena had been returned safely, it was never discovered who had taken her. The reward for her return and the bounty on her kidnapper was considerable.

What Rowena said next made them jump. "I cast a spell on Salazar."

* * * * *

It was a simple binding spell. So simple that a wand wasn't needed. So simple that it would be broken as easily as a single strand of hair could be pulled into two. If Salazar didn't care the slightest bit for me, the spell would be completely useless. But if he did care for me, even only a little, a connection would form between us, which would grow stronger each time the spell was repeated.

All I needed was a personal possession of his or something he had given to me.

"What do you think of it, little bird?" Rowena stared at the object he had placed in her hands. It was the round thing he had been working on yesterday. It looked like an ordinary crystal ball, but then he asked her to shake it. When she did so, the image of a sparrow appeared inside it. Rowena didn't see the smile on Salazar's face when he saw how delighted she was with the curiosity he had given to her.

Every time you shake it, little Ravenclaw, it will show a different kind of bird.

* * * * *

Rowena treasured the gift Salazar had given her. As he had said, every time she shook it, a different bird species appeared in it. Sometimes, it showed birds flying, other times, nesting. She saw eagles hunting in it, watched swans gliding across the surface of a lake. She even saw peculiar black and white birds that waddled through an icy landscape.

Every time she looked at it, she was reminded of the Dark wizard who had given it to her. Rowena doubted he gave her the Avige (as she had come to think of it) to remind her of him. It was simply a gift or perhaps compensation for the month she had been kept imprisoned in his house. Whatever the reason why Salazar gave it to her, it was what finally made Rowena decide to bind him to her.

* * * * *

Years later, on the night of her sixteenth birthday, she held the Avige in her hands and smiled at what she saw in it, a pair of white turtledoves.

How symbolic, Rowena thought with amusement as she looked up from it to stare out the window at the crescent moon hanging in the night sky. The light from it dimly illuminated Rowena's bedroom where not a single torch or candle had been lit. Even the fireplace was cold.

After saying the single word that activated the binding spell, Rowena carefully placed away the Avige in her hope chest. She had performed the same ritual each and every night ever since Salazar had returned her to her family.

Just as she was about to go to bed, Rowena was distracted by her reflection in the full-length mirror standing beside the door. She found herself staring at a slender young witch with perfectly groomed waist length brown hair, wide blue eyes and charming dimples when she smiled at herself.

Lovely, pretty, beautiful... how often she had heard other people murmur and think those words when they saw her. Rowena shook her head slightly as she remembered that flattering praises of her appearance were not the only things she heard. She was well aware of what came to men's minds when they thought of her, and she wondered if Salazar would think similarly when he saw her again.

Salazar... There was a warm ache that bloomed inside her heart when she thought of him. Rowena had often heard news of him, but they were always about his work for the Thirteen. Word on Salazar Slytherin's personal life was as rare as a day going by when Rowena didn't think of him. Which had never happened.

Rowena thought of him constantly, too often actually. She wondered about how he looked like now. She daydreamed of him while studying her lessons. As she grew older, her obsession only became worse. It reached the point where she would wake up in the middle of night, flustered and embarrassed by a dream.

It didn't help as well that her father was now encouraging marriage proposals.

* * * * *

"Daughter." Regius' voice was exasperated. "Surely, there must be someone whom you are interested in." He held gestured at the considerable pile of parchment on his desk. "Do not any of them appeal to you?"

Rowena, standing on the other side of his table, turned away abruptly, and Regius felt more than a little alarmed. This was the first time his daughter seemed afraid to face him.

"... Rowena," he said gently, standing up from his chair. When she refused to look back at him, he went over to her. He felt her tensed when he placed his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes, that remind him so much of his late wife and her mother, were upset and wary when she turned to face him. She looked guilty as though she was trying very hard to hide something from him.

"... Very well, Rowena. Who is he?"

Her face was startled, her mouth opened to protest, and Regius waved away her denial even before she could say anything.

"I might not be able to read minds, my dear daughter," he said in a dry tone of voice, "but I can see that you are besotted with someone." Rowena blushed at his words, and Regius chuckled.

"I thought I was helping," he confessed, gesturing at his parchment-laden table, "I had assumed that one of these names belongs to the one you are interested in, but clearly I am wrong."

His clear blue eyes settled on his daughter's flush face, and they carefully watched every nuance of her expression as he queried, "Are you in love with a married wizard?"

Similar blue eyes widened. "No, of course I am not!" Rowena declared immediately, sounding miffed at the very idea. Regius relaxed slightly.

"Someone who is spoken for then?"

Rowena froze, but the guilt on her face didn't heightened rather her eyes had turned thoughtful. After a few moments, she slowly said, "I don't know if he is promised to another."

Finally! She admits she does have someone in mind. Now, all Regius had to do was find out who the very lucky wizard was.

"Well now. Tell me his name," he told his daughter commandingly, promising, "I'll find out if he is engaged or betrothed. Though it will not matter." Pride lit his face as he smiled with great satisfaction. "Once he knows you are interested in him, he will make himself available." If not, Imperius will make certain he does.

Occupied by his own thoughts, Regius forgot about his daughter's talent and didn't see her eyes narrow at him warningly. He also didn't see the mischievous smile that appeared for a bare instant before her face turned carefully blank, and she said, "His name is Salazar Slytherin."

"... WHAT?!"

* * * * *

However, Regius wasn't detered, despite his initial upset when he found out his daughter was in love with a Dark wizard, Salazar Slytherin no less. He was determined to find a worthy husband for his princess, and upon closer inspection and long consideration, Lord Regius Ravenclaw realized that Slytherin was an excellent choice. He had heard of the other wizard. How could any wizard or witch not know of him? He was the youngest ever to be granted membership into the Thirteen, an organization which, though feared and abhorred by Light wizards, was also highly respected and reluctantly admired.

Slytherin was also well off. Like Rowena, he was an only heir. His family, though decimated, had a long and honorable history. Not as grand nor as prestigious as Ravenclaw, but impressive still.

True, he was a Dark wizard, but it wasn't as if Regius had not interests in the Dark wizarding community. In addition, he possessed more than a healthy fascination for the Dark Arts. To Regius Ravenclaw, magic was neither Light nor Dark, simply magic, a force to be reckoned with, a tool to be used. To an intellectual such as he, Regius found it foolish to deny himself Black Magic when learning it proved to be worthwhile and extremely beneficial.

Regius was also intrigued by the idea of one of the Thirteen marrying into his family. Oh, the chaos it would cause in the Dark Society! (As well as among his kind.) For too long a time, Regius had found himself bored and weary of life. His only bright spot was his daughter, Rowena, who had met and surpassed his every expectation and whom he fully trusted to properly manage the estate when he was gone, dead and buried.

The prospect of grandchildren also excited him. Rowena, even as an infant, had been an absolute angel. Regius expected her children, his grandchildren, to be just as beautiful as their mother. This, in turn, guided Regius' thoughts to center on Slytherin's physical character. Surely, his daughter had chosen to fall in love with a wizard as handsome as she was beautiful. None of the wizards who had asked for Rowena's hand had impressed Regius, who had thought it a pity that young Godric Gryffindor was too close a blood relation to be considered as a proper match for Rowena. A pity indeed. What fine offspring they would have had.

Regius could only hope that Slytherin was as fair, but even if he wasn't, Ravenclaw blood would more than make up for the lack. ... Though for now, how would he convince Slytherin to marry Rowena... Or for that matter, persuade the Thirteen to allow one of their members to take one of the Light as a spouse.

Difficult... difficult, mused Regius as he relaxed against his chair. Rowena had left his study with a smile after he promised her he would consider carefully the choice she had made. Regius glanced up at the ceiling, his eyes absent-mindedly tracing the eagle pattern carved into it.

The Thirteen were possessive of their own, Regius knew. They wouldn't think kindly of any attempt to lure one of their members away, especially this Salazar Slytherin. Regius had even heard rumors that Trenzel and Ilias had squabbled over him. That, by itself, showed how important Slytherin was to the coalition.

... I will have to woo them then, decided Regius with a crafty smile. Perhaps show my interest in the Dark Arts... The Thirteen were always keeping close watch on him, specifically for any new spells he would create. A sudden idea made him chortle.

Maybe I can buy Slytherin from them with Imperius.

* * * * *

Both Godric's and Helga's eyes were wide, and Rowena couldn't help but smile at their flabbergasted faces.

Helga was the first of the two to recover. "Did your father actually buy Salazar?" she asked in a voice that lowered so quickly that Salazar's name was whispered instead. Godric was still staring at Rowena speechlessly.

Rowena's smile remained, but her eyes were sad as she shook her head slowly.

"Father died soon after. A wild boar gored him to death while he was hunting."

* * * * *

"Thank you, Lady Ravenclaw." The old Muggle bowed clumsily to her. His grandson, a strapping young man, followed suit hesitantly, his eyes were wide and locked on her. Rowena smiled at him, and he blushed.

She only allowed herself to relax after they had left. As soon as the door closed shut behind them, she let a tired sigh escape from her. Rowena only had a few moments to herself before the door opened again to admit another tenant.

Rowena had become head of Ravenclaw when she was eighteen years of age. Her father, Lord Regius Ravenclaw, had passed away a month before, and her mother had died so early, Rowena barely had any memories of her.

Duties and responsibilities. Her father had trained her for them. She was his only child and heir. Rowena had much more than an inkling of what to expect when she inherited Ravenclaw manor. But for all her preparation, she had felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work to be done and the management required to effectively run and to maintain her family's vast estate.

There were farms, mills and mines within the boundaries of what was considered as Ravenclaw land. There were tenants to deal with and to keep happy. They were not only wizards, but also Muggle workers and their families, who must be kept ignorant of the magic around them. There was a village of respectable size within the estate grounds. Ravenclaw owned and directed all the workshops in it. There was the smithy, the weaving shop, the distillery, the carpenter's shop... the necessary bookkeeping obligated the employment of at least a dozen scribes.

Burdened by the running the magical school as well, it wasn't long before she asked Godric to help her. He was the one relative her age to whom she felt closest. Rowena knew she could trust him. The Gryffindor family had always been vassal to the Ravenclaws, and Godric considered it a privilege to assist Rowena.

"I wouldn't be surprised if your hair begins to turn white... or if mine starts to for that matter." Godric was looking through the numerous ledgers in her father's study. Rowena smiled at the sight of Godric, sitting at the massive oak desk with thick tomes piled on it, one atop each other to a height that concealed the wizard from her sight.

"It is intimidating, isn't it?" Rowena lifted her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn that reminded her of how long it had been since she had had a decent night's sleep.

"We need more help, Rowena," said Godric from behind the stacks of books.

"Who do you recommend?" She asked.

There was a pause, and in the next moment, Godric stood up. His eyes were thoughtful as he suggested that she sent out notices to all the other families that Ravenclaw manor was in need of a steward.

* * * * *

"I am Helga Hufflepuff." Rowena regarded with interest the witch standing on the other side of her father's desk. She was a little short and a bit on the plump side. Shiny black eyes stared back at Rowena with equal attention. Helga's flaxen-colored hair was trimmed short and she had the curliest locks Rowena had ever seen.

A Hufflepuff... Rowena glanced at Godric standing beside her chair. That had been his dubious thought she had heard. Though he was keeping his face perfectly polite, Rowena knew he was unimpressed by Helga. Amusement made her smile as she looked back to her

"I've seen you before," Rowena told Helga, whose face brightened with pleasure at the recognition.

"I have been here before," Helga said wryly.

"Explain," Godric requested.

Helga stoutly replied, "My father sent me here to study magic, but Lord Ravenclaw sent me back home in six days."

Godric was stunned. "... You sound as if you are proud of that."

She turned from Rowena to stare at Godric shrewdly. "I am proud of it," she stated simply. "I was sent home. Lord Ravenclaw couldn't stand me. Many of his students ran away. They were scared of him."

When Helga said that, Rowena knew they didn't have to see the rest of the candidates. But for courtesy's sake, they waited until after the others had presented themselves before Rowena announced their decision.

Honesty. That was Helga's greatest asset though it caused her more trouble than what was deemed acceptable for a virtue.

In any case, with Godric and Helga, Rowena's work had eased, and only then, when she had time to think of things not related to the handling of her family's holdings, did she realized that she had forgotten Salazar.

* * * * *

The Avige glowed in the faint moonlight streaming through the open windows. Lying on her bed, stomach down with her chin balanced on the backs of her hands, Rowena stared at the luminous globe. It was empty. Devoid... like her heart.

... I forgot about him... Is it because I lost my father?

... No, Rowena decided. When she had learned that her father was dead, she remembered crying and running to her room. The first thing she looked for was the gift Salazar had given to her.

Rowena pressed her lips against her hand as she recalled holding it fervently, rubbing its smooth cold surface as if it were a magical lamp that held a genie inside it. She had wished for her Dark wizard to come and comfort her.

But he didn't come, and Rowena had fallen asleep, still weeping and clutching it in her hands. During her restless and grief-stricken slumber, she must have knocked it off the bed. When she woke up, she found it on the floor, seemingly undamaged, but when she shook it, it showed her nothing. She had lost more than her father, she had lost her wings as well.

She smiled a small humorless smile as tears troubled her eyes. ... I grew up that night, Rowena thought sadly. Not only was she bereft of the one parent she had left, she also learned that no matter how much one would hope and pray, wishes and dreams didn't always come true.

And that spells didn't always work.

* * * * *

"There is a link between us," Rowena told them. "Salazar can try to hide what he thinks from me, but he can never completely conceal his mind from me-" Her voice caught and softened, "- until now. I couldn't hear anything from him."

Godric suggested hesitantly, "Perhaps the spell you cast on him has worn off."

Rowena shook her head somberly. "Salazar countered that spell a long time ago."

"He knew about it?" asked Helga.

"I told him," replied Rowena. A smile lightened her face. "He was very relieved when I told him I had cast a binding charm on him."

Godric became even more confused. "I don't understand," he said. "If he had known all along, why did he stay with us?"

"Because he likes being with us, Godric," explained Rowena, and his face turned dubious at that. Helga quickly turned back the topic conversation.

"If the spell didn't make this connection between you two, what did then, Rowena?"

"Our MindReading lessons."

Both of them jumped, and Godric frowned at her. "I thought you said they were unsuccessful."

Rowena nodded. "They were, to Salazar. It is impossible for him to learn how to read minds, but during the lessons, he had kept his mind completely open to me. He didn't learn anything from me, but I learned exactly the way he thinks."

"... That's why you always seem to understand him so well," realized Helga.

After a moment, Godric chuckled. "You even amaze him. Salazar often told me that he had never met anyone who seemed to know him as well as you do, Rowena."

Helga shook her head, looking exasperated. "This is why you always defend him," she declared.

"No," corrected Rowena gently. "I defend him because there are two of you and only one of him. It's always best to even the odds in any conflict."

They both smiled at that observation, but Rowena quickly became worried again, remembering that she was no longer able to hear Salazar's thoughts.

"... I think someone has cast a spell on Salazar," Rowena murmured, her brows knitting in thought while Godric and Helga's amusement turned into dismay.

"Do you have any idea who?" demanded Helga. Her black eyes turned darker with fury. "It must be Voldemort," she muttered.

Godric was livid and asked Rowena what sort of spell she thought Salazar was under. "No matter what it is, we will dispel it," he said bluntly. He turned towards the direction Salazar had gone off to and began walking away from them. He halted when Rowena said, "I think it is Draco."

"... What?" Helga's anger died abruptly at Rowena's words. Bewilderment replaced it. "... Why do you think it's him, Rowena?"

"... But that boy cares a great deal for Salazar," Godric protested. "I've seen the way he follows Salazar around. He can't be the one."

Rowena's eyes were expressionless as she told them that she had never been able to read Draco's mind.

* * * * *

What is wrong with me? Salazar's knees gave way, and he would have collapsed to the ground had he not guided his listless body to lean against the trunk of a tree.

Why am I afraid of hurting them? Is it because of Rowena's spell... ... No, that was dispelled a long time ago.

... I care for them... Salazar chuckled weakly, and laughter-induced-shaking helped to warm his body. He felt so cold.

You have a wand now, reminded a little voice inside his head. Use it.

Yes, of course. Salazar took out the wand Draco had bought for him, and he cursed when he saw that his hand was shaking. He could barely keep himself from dropping his wand.

Fool, he told himself silently. Why did you allow yourself to care so much? Hadn't he learnt his lesson with Rowena? Of course, he had no choice then with that binding charm she had cast on him.

This time, it was a hundred times worse. In despair, Salazar allowed himself to slide down against the tree to sit on one of its large roots.

It's real this time, not induced or conjured. It is real. He cared for them, and that was the reason why he had felt so horrible when he saw the hurt in Godric's eyes.

... I want so much to stay in this time... yet I can't because I don't want to hurt them, any of them. ... I do not want to lose them.

How in the world did I become this way?

Salazar was distracted when he heard the unmistakable rustling sound of something going through the foliage. Automatically, he braced his back against the tree, his fingers tightening around his wand. The leaves of the shrubbery directly in front of him were moving. Something bright glinted in the dim light.

When Draco pushed through the bushes, Salazar almost cursed him.

* * * * *

"Don't you ever do that again!" Lord Slytherin yelled at him furiously. Draco blinked at him, startled but unafraid as the wizard ranted at him.

"Do you have any idea how closed you were to being petrified?!" Lord Slytherin began pushing himself up to stand, and Draco quickly moved forward to help him. The older wizard jerked away from his hands and clambered up to his feet on his own power. Draco could see he was trembling, and when he went nearer for the second time, Lord Slytherin didn't move away.

Long sleeved arms reached around him and pulled him close in an embrace. The wizard's hands were cold where they touched Draco's skin.

"I almost killed you, Draco," he rasped, sounding very weary.

Draco tilted his head up and saw that the other wizard was extremely pale. His face looked like it was bloodless, and he saw fear and relief in tired green eyes before they closed.

"I had never felt so scared in my entire life," Lord Slytherin whispered.

To be continued.