Her heart ached. Every part of her – physical, spiritual, and emotional – longed for an escape from the torrent of frustration that coursed through her, more destructive than a great storm; she longed for freedom from the shadows of her thoughts, more ominous than black clouds.

She was not sure that she could face him. She didn’t know if she could bear to look upon his face, or if the pain would be too much. And, she was not confident she could stand her ground, and not allow him to manipulate her thoughts and feelings. She feared that her willpower might not be enough when matched against her devotion to him. Her limbs trembled and her pulse pounded as the anxiety overwhelmed her; her stomach felt queasy at the prospect of looking into his dark eyes as the truth lay open between them.

She had hardly dared to believe it. It felt as if her entire body had been hit with something hard, cold and heavy. She’d felt paralyzed with the revelation. The revelation that – after all the times she had stood up for him, after all the times she had defended his name, and ignored the things she saw in the corner of her vision and ignored the whispered suspicions in the back of her mind – she had been wrong about him.

“Tell me it’s not true,� she had pleaded. “Tell me this is a mistake. I beg you. Let me understand, shed some light on this foul lie that rests before my very logic.�

“It is not mistake, Rowena,� he said bluntly, his eyes not on her face, but far off, seeing something she could not. “And I cannot make you understand what I know you never will. What I know you never wish to understand.�

She quivered at the memory. At the clarity with which his voice resounded in her thoughts and the pang as she could feel the desperation with which she had implored him. In and out of her ruminations she continued to weave as she sat inside the stone castle he called his home, waiting for him to return – waiting for what might be the end of their life together.

She had been there for hours. Turning over everything that had happened, and everything that would come to be if Salazar continued on his quest for vengeance and purity. She scolded herself for coming to his home and even attempting to reason with him, when she knew there was no saving him, no saving her, no saving those who would find themselves victims to his ideals.

But her heart could not allow her to give up just yet. She had loved him so fiercely, she had admired so many things in him, and fought to believe that he could become so much more if he would simply open his mind. If he would simply learn to listen. If he would only allow himself to change.

And, so, she found herself on the edge of a campaign she knew would likely be short-lived and unsuccessful. But, despite the pain, this was something she would not give up without a fight.

Her body tensed as she dared peer out the window and saw him approach. She backed away quickly, and found herself wringing her hands as she paced the stone floor, flicking her eyes to the door ever few moments, ignoring her hair as it flew about her frantic head and her frantic thoughts.

As he entered, he looked upon her, his face tired. He sighed forlornly. “Rowena. There is nothing you can say.�

She felt a surge of strife ripple through her at his attempt to stop her before she’d even started, and she did not delay launching into her battle.

“If you loved me, as you claim you do, you would not be doing this. You would put a stop to this insanity.�

“If I were to end this, Rowena, I would be betraying myself. And if I cannot be true to myself, how can I ever be true to you?�

“You are not being true to yourself, Salazar. You are acting out of malice. Out of beliefs you have mindlessly inherited and accepted. If you would take a moment to honestly be true to yourself, you would see how much of yourself you are sacrificing in order to attain this foolish and arrogant ambition.�

“Perhaps, Rowena, you give my integrity more credit than it is due.�

Her tear-filled eyes stared at him sorrowfully. “Salazar…� she breathed hoarsely. “Don’t…�

He moved away from her, pacing with frustration, looking to the stone ceiling and to the door and to the cracked walls, as though seeking an escape, or just an answer. He turned back to her with a passionate wave of his arm, as though gesturing to something she was simply refusing to see.

“You wish me to grant you mercy; you wish me to walk away from my goal for the sake of sparing you pain. But, you are asking me to give up something that I believe in. Something that is part of me. Something that I want with every part of my existence. Something I desire with the ferocity of burning fire, howling wind, shaking earth and turbulent waters.�

He stopped momentarily and looked upon her; his voice softened just slightly.

“If I could separate myself from this ambition for any cause, it would be for you, Rowena. But I am afraid that I cannot. And I am afraid that your perception of who I am is no more than an illusion. I am afraid what you ask of me is too much.�

“How can it be too much?� she beseeched him. “How can it be too much if you love me Salazar? How can it be too much to give up this treachery? This foul plot?�

“Do you love me, Rowena?�

“Yes, of course I love you,� she replied, tears streaming down her face. “You know that, Salazar.�

“And, for me, would you give up your beliefs?� he asked, his voice low. “Would you abandon our friends, and would you leave this school, and would you aid me in my goal?�

Rowena shook her head back and forth fervently. “It’s not the same. This – this is madness, Salazar. This is wrong. You cannot ask me to do something so vastly immoral.�

“Is it too much?� he asked, echoing her earlier sentiment. “Too much of yourself to give up? Even for love.�

“It’s different. It is love and compassion that prevents me from taking your view; you are asking me to give up one love for another.�

“You are asking me to give up one passion for another,� he said fiercely.

“Salazar. Please. Do not leave. Do not do this. What you are doing is wrong?�

“Is that a plea on my behalf? Or on the behalf of the non-magical?�

“It is a plea for all.�

“Then it is a sad day for all; for it is not a plea I can acquiesce.�

Rowena did not speak – she did not know that she could even if she had words, for the way her lip trembled; she knew she would break into sobs even she even tried find her voice.

Her dark robes swept across the cold ground as she made to take her leave and Salazar stopped her just for a moment, taking her hand tenderly and placing a gentle kiss on her tear-stained cheek. He, too, felt tremulous, though when he looked upon her, his body was posed, his posture strong. “Farewell, Rowena. I am sorry you could not save me.�

She said nothing in return, but tore her eyes away from him, afraid to tempt her tears or her lips or her heart with his fair face. She then departed with as much strength as she could gather, leaving him behind for what she knew to be forever.

“Farewell, Salazar Slytherin,� she sobbed quietly to the silent night. “My heart shall never love another as it loved you.�