Disclaimer: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me.


Summary: It has been thought that dreams hold great value in diving unknown knowledge. Some adhere to the belief that a dream is capable of foretelling events, be they tragic or wonderful. Others believe that a dream is strictly that – a dream. Helga has a dream that shakes her focus and one that could have unforeseen effects on a friendship and on a school. Will the Founders fall, or will Hogwarts truly become the school they have always envisioned? Written for the “New Year Challenge Two: Dreams� by megan_lupin of Gryffindor.


Author’s Note: Okay, what started out as an idea for a one-shot has now turned into a multi-chaptered story. A special “Thanks� goes out especially to the members of the forums for helping me on both title ideas and other aspects of this story. The title of the story is courtesy of kumydabookworm, who also lent some advice on the story’s summary. (Thanks, Kumy!) Now, I present for your enjoyment, Divided We Fall.


~**~


Divided We Fall


By megan_lupin


~**~


Chapter I: Dreams and Nightmares


~**~


Massive torrents of rain fell from the sky, pounding on the large windows of the castle as the night wore on and the occupants of the stone structure slumbered. The branches of trees were bent towards the ground as they fought with the harsh winds that howled and whistled their movements. And as the storm raged outside, a young woman slept fitfully in her bed, her tired mind plagued with a mixture of dreams and nightmares.


-----


The land was made of rolling hills, all covered in a deep, dark green grass of springtime. It was the time of year when the sun would shine and everything would normally have felt, well, good, for lack of a better word. But on this day, however, the bright sun was hidden behind heavy clouds, and a storm seemed imminent, though the rain never came.


No one, save two people, was outside at this time; everyone else was all surely dwelling within the safety of the stone castle’s walls. The two men who did choose to brave the weather and meet each other stood several metres apart, each facing directly at the other. One of them had long, wild auburn hair that whipped around his rugged face in the wind, while the other was the owner of dark hair and a pale complexion – a look that was vastly opposite of his opponent’s appearance. At first, neither man spoke to the other, instead seeming content just to glare at one another. Such silence, however, did not last for too long. The man with the wilder appearance was the first to speak.


“Is this what it must come to?� exclaimed Godric Gryffindor, a wand held loosely at his side as he surveyed his fellow wizard. Godric’s rough face held a strained emotion of dislike as his amber eyes met the dark pair of the man before him. “Must it end like this, Salazar?�


The second man, the one called Salazar, did not respond to Gryffindor with words. Rather, the dark-haired wizard removed his own wand from his flowing, dark blue robe, and wrapped his pale fingers around the cool wood, almost as if he was expecting a spell to come hurling his way at any moment. However, his thin face gave nothing away in its appearance, showing only a stoic expression upon it. Not even the dislike shown by Godric could be seen mirrored on the face of Slytherin.


“What have you become, Salazar?� said Godric once again, his voice loud enough to get over the increasing volume of the strong and howling wind. He did not raise his wand at his opponent, though the movement of his fingers showed his itch to do just that. Instead, he waited, even hoped, that his former friend would respond to him, give him a reason and explanation for everything. But he was disappointed; one would have thought Salazar made of stone, for he made no movement, nor did he open his mouth to speak an answer. “What have you done?�


It seemed that Gryffindor’s last question had the result that he had wanted . . . The dark-haired wizard spoke.


“You ask what I have done, Godric?� he said, his voice holding an edge of disbelief, almost as if he could not comprehend how the other man was incapable of understanding. “You ask what I have become? You want to know if this is how it must end?� A slight laugh had entered Salazar’s voice as he talked, though his pale face barely showed any sign of such emotions.


“I never said anything about it all ending today, Godric,� Slytherin muttered, his voice carrying over the wind’s howls regardless of its quiet tone. “And you already know what I have done, my friend. I have done what you would not do.� As the wind increased in its volume, so did Salazar’s voice, like he was trying to match the natural element in its strength and power. His voice grew forceful, taking on a border of disdain and disgust. “I have chosen to protect our world, while you would see it soiled with Muggles!� he spat. Salazar’s pale face contorted with barely-suppressed rage as the last word left his mouth, as if he felt he was dirtying his mouth just with the utterance of it. But the rage did not last on his face for long before it took on a characteristic look of calmness and stoicism, though Slytherin could not keep the slight smirk from his face as he continued. “I have done, oh brave Godric,� he said, his voice scathingly sarcastic as his dark eyes glared with fire at his former friend, “what you, with all of your courage and bravery, feared to do.�


The words had barely left Salazar’s mouth before Godric raised his wand, his lips already forming the beginnings of a spell. With a wave of his wand, he fired his spell at Slytherin, sending a jet of purple light right at his former friend. Not expecting a reply so quickly, Salazar barely had any warning of the spell’s arrival and, as such, was not able to completely miss it when he dodged. A deep gash appeared on his upper arm, blood dripping to the ground from the wound as he stumbled backwards in a mixture of pain and surprise. His dark eyes burned with fiery hatred, and Salazar did not waste much time before he had his own wand raised and returned Godric’s message.


“Serpensortia,� he hissed, waving his wand in front of him and sending a large snake at his friend. The reptile slithered towards the auburn-haired wizard who, unfortunately, had had his back turned at the time Slytherin had cast the spell; Godric was unaware of the serpent now making its way towards him. As Slytherin looked on, a slight sneer breaking the stoic expression on his pale face, the serpent was inches from sinking its fangs into the wizard when it was defeated in its quest. In a bright burst of fire that temporarily blinded both wizards, a large red and gold bird appeared behind Godric, and with a quick movement, had destroyed the slithering serpent.


That flash of fire provided just the sort of warning that Gryffindor needed in order to dodge Slytherin’s approaching spell for, barely a moment after summoning his serpent, Salazar had fired another spell at his opponent. Waving his wand, however, Godric was able to conjure a gleaming silver shield to deflect the oncoming jet of silver flame.


“Why do you wish to hide behind a shield, Godric?� taunted Salazar, his voice managing to betray an edge of frustration that was coursing through the dark-haired wizard. Pain was shooting through his wounded arm, and it was causing the cunning man to lose some of his concentration and calmness. “Why do you allow your creatures to save you?� He gasped as another wave of pain coursed down his arm, the wound on which was still bleeding quite freely, and his sight wanted to blur. Angrily, he blinked his vision back into a clear focus. “Those actions seem far more cowardly that you, Godric –�


A jet of bright green light flew out from behind Gryffindor’s shield and directly towards Salazar, who flung himself to the side and into the dark, shadowy covering of a few trees. For that brief moment right after the spell had been cast, all noises on the hills ceased. Even the wind seemed to have dimmed in its volume, though it did not stop completely.


Such silence of his surroundings made the pounding of Godric’s heart seem vastly increased; it sounded so loud to his ears that he at first thought a storm had indeed started and it was a bit of thunder that he heard. Looking towards the shadowed area where Slytherin had disappeared to, Gryffindor’s mind assaulted him with the horrible thought and fear that, for a brief moment, he had allowed his anger and rashness to make him do something unforgivable. Whatever the current differences were between he and his former friend, Godric knew that, deep down, he did not wish to kill the other Founder of Hogwarts.


“Salazar?� he said, his voice loud, though there was little other noise to try to speak over. A slight tremor of fear sought to lace onto his voice, but he stubbornly suppressed it. “Salazar Slytherin?�


A sigh of relief escaped Godric when movement came from the shadows and the tall, pale form of Salazar Slytherin entered back into sight. He had taken the brief moment out of sight to wrap up his arm in a very crude manner, but it was enough to slow the bleeding for the time. His face still showed a bit of the pain that he was feeling due to the stinging wound, but the darker wizard would not allow all of the pain he was feeling to be seen by Godric; his pride would not let him.


Slytherin’s dark eyes burned in cold hatred as he stared at Gryffindor, the latter’s face now betraying a bit of anger and hatred directed towards the former wizard and his former friend. “You seek to kill me?� said Salazar, his voice laced with the same hatred that showed like fire in his dark eyes. A hiss of pain escaped him, though he did not let such deter him from continuing. “Do you believe the world is better off without me? Is the great and noble Godric Gryffindor going to vanquish the evil Salazar Slytherin and save all of humanity? Is that it, Godric?� he shouted at the auburn-haired and rough-faced wizard standing several metres away.


Godric’s loud voice echoed across the land to Salazar. “I don’t want to kill you, Salazar,� he said, holding his wand loosely at his side as if trying to prove his point. “But I will stop what you’ve become; I will stop you if I must.� As he spoke the words, Godric was overcome with a feeling of sadness. It seemed to finally occur to him that one of them would have to die today, and as he thought of the two witches up in the castle – Rowena with her dark-haired beauty and studious nature, and Helga with her appreciation, love, and respect for all – he realised that they would never be able to be the same after this day. Four will become three, he thought. The Founders will become broken, and Hogwarts will divide.


“Well,� exclaimed Salazar, drawing Gryffindor’s attention from his thoughts and back onto his former friend. “What are you wanting, Godric? An invitation –� Salazar cut himself off abruptly and, slashing his wand through the air, hurled a beam of dark red light at Gryffindor, forcing the brave Founder to dive to the lush green grass to escape the spell’s fatal path. Rather than hitting the wizard, it struck a bush a couple feet behind him and set it ablaze.


And the battle between the two wizards – the two Founders and friends – began in earnest.


The two men duelled back and forth with each other, dodging and casting some of the most powerful magic ever to be seen. Godric dodged the cunningly cast curses of Salazar, while Salazar did the same to keep from being hit with any of his opponent’s spells. Neither of them, however, was able to dodge every single spell, and drops of blood started to fall to the ground from wounds created by some of the harsher curses, while gasps and hisses of pain escaped the mouths of the two proud, strong men. Numerous colours lit up the cloudy sky as spells ricocheted off of objects and shields and collided with each other in mid-air, the collision producing either sparks in mild cases or great balls of fire in more serious instances. Very few shouts, however, were heard coming from the two opponents, for both wizards had already greatly mastered the technique of nonverbal spell casting. The only words that could be heard from them were, for the most part, taunts or comments to each other – both Godric and Salazar seeking to distract the other long enough for a cleverly cast curse to get past the defences.


But as both wizards were starting to lose their strength, having cast such a large amount of powerful magic in such quick succession, something odd happened between them when they both chose to simultaneously cast their next attack. A jet of bright, green light issued forth from the tip of Salazar’s wand and sped forcefully towards Godric, whose own wand had fired forth a jet of red light. The two beams, as they headed towards their destinations, collided with one another directly between the two wizards, and at their impact, created a great ball of brilliant light that flashed, blinding everything else from view except for the pure, bright, white light.


When the light eventually cleared and the scene was visible once again, both the forms of Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor had vanished. Rather than the duelling Founders, two new people were standing in their places, each new wizard grasping a wand that was connected to the other by a beam of thick golden light. Their hands shook, as if they were fighting to maintain their grip on their wands and keep them steady, a task that did not appear easy judging by the looks on the wizards’ faces.


The figure that had taken the place of Salazar was tall and very thin, much like the spot’s previous occupant, and his complexion was deathly pale, far paler than Slytherin’s had been. He was clothed in black robes that whipped around his skeletal frame by a combination of the wind and the spells’ power, and his eyes burned with fury and hatred, both strong emotions of which were mostly directed at his opponent. His face seemed serpentine in appearance, giving him the impression of being more snake than human, in a way; it was almost as if one was expecting him to start slithering along the ground and strike with fangs at any moment.


His opponent, however, could not have been more different from him.


The wizard who had taken Godric’s place could not have been older than a teenage student, barely older than a child, really. Feelings of fear and confusion radiated off of the young boy as he fought to maintain his sweaty grip on his shaking wand. His black hair blowing in the wind, the boy’s emerald gaze held burning emotions similar to those held within the other wizard’s scarlet depths; it was clear that he hated and loathed the serpentine wizard, but though he hated the man before him, it was also just as clear that he feared him.


Both wizards struggled to break the strong connection that their individual wands seemed to have formed with the other, but no matter how hard they struggled, neither wizard succeeded in cutting and breaking the thick beam of light that connected the two wands. The golden thread remained completely unbroken, splintering for only a brief moment – though remaining steadfastly solid – and several thinner strands of a web-like silver light broke off from the golden beam and crisscrossed themselves through the air until they had succeeded in forming a sort of cage of light and magic around the two wizards – man and boy – as the two enemies fought with each other.


And then, without warning and moments after the cage was created, a strong, piercing sound tore through the scene, its eerie tone ghostly yet beautiful and hopeful yet chilling all at the same time. The boy’s face seemed to show a brief smile as he, apparently, heard the music, while his darker enemy’s hatred appeared to grow at the tune. As the song grew louder in volume, a bright and fiery image of a large, winged creature became visible in a great flash of light, remaining for a moment and causing both wizards to stare at it, though they still maintained a grip on their individual, struggling wands.


Soon, the scene started to slowly disappear, and the fiery bird faded away in a smoky haze, leaving behind only the two wizards as they continued to fight one another. Then, there was a great flash of the same white, blinding light of before, back when Salazar and Godric had vanished.


-----


With a start, Helga Hufflepuff jerked awake from her dream, her heart pounding, her breathing heavy, and her long, blond hair sticking to her cold, sweaty skin.


~**~


Author’s Note: Well, there you have it – the first chapter of Divided We Fall. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. This is my first time ever writing the Founders, so any thoughts would be greatly appreciated. The second chapter of this story should be coming along soon.

~**~


Divided We Fall


By megan_lupin


~**~


Chapter II: Nearly Brothers


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Golden rays of an early morning sun started to make their way through the windows of the great, stone castle, bringing the dawning of a new day to all who had slept within the castle’s walls the night before. Birds could be heard chirping from the surrounding forest, and if one had looked out onto the grounds, they would have been able to see a brief glimpse of the Giant Squid as it floated in the cool, autumn waters of the lake. Leaves rustled through the trees in the slight breeze that had begun, signalling the beginning of a chilly, early October day.


Inside the castle, wizards and witches of many ages were slowly rising from their beds, dawning clothing for the day before heading into the Great Hall. Sweet smells of food already wafted up through the corridors, urging even the most reluctant risers to slip from slumber and into wakefulness. Friends joined each other on the staircases, in the corridors, at the wooden tables in the Hall, and the sounds of voices and laughter soon drifted through the castle as well, the carefree quality of youth infectious.


“Ah, the start of a new day,� said a tall, auburn-haired man. He inhaled deeply, as if he could take the entirety of youth and new beginning into him with a single breath … Not that he needed a rejuvenation of his strength by any means. Rather, the opposite was probably true. Wild, windswept hair framed the rough and weathered face of Godric Gryffindor, but he seemed to pay the loosely falling strands little mind as he entered the food-adorned Great Hall, holding the door open for a trio of young girls hurrying into the hall.


“Thank you,� muttered the youngest – She could not have been older than twelve years of age – and Godric grinned.


“And what makes this day any different from the thousands of previous days that have already become a thing of the past?� said a quiet voice, causing Gryffindor to turn around. His grin grew even greater upon catching sight of the man walking towards him. “Do you have something special in mind for this day, my friend?� asked Salazar Slytherin, his normally stoic expression giving way for a brief moment to a small smile of his own.


Salazar Slytherin was as opposite in personal appearance from Godric Gryffindor as it was possible to be – or so it seemed that way. While Gryffindor’s rough and wild appearance made him look as though he had just entered from an exerting duel or battle, Salazar’s physical look was far more regal. Smooth, jet black hair framed his pale face, and the shoulder-length locks were often pulled back into a loose tie. His clothing, also, was chosen with more care than his companion’s, whose rugged and wild look shone through here as well. Elegant silver embroideries were made in robes of black, the dark colour making Salazar’s lightly coloured face appear even paler than it actually was. Hems were stitched just right, making the robes neither too long nor too short … and Slytherin looked every bit the role of nobility.


“Nothing more than yesterday,� replied Gryffindor, and his grin grew again, soon becoming a laugh as he embraced the other man like a brother. “You have returned already?� he asked. “Rowena told us you would not be back until the new year.�


“That was what I had planned,� said Salazar, returning his friend’s embrace just as heartily – though still with his usual dignity. Some habits were just too hard to break, after all. “But there was not much that remained to be accomplished, and I cannot say that I was not anxious to return.� He looked around as he spoke, his dark eyes taking in the sights of every stone of the castle, every crevice and crack, every door and staircase. The school was solid, impenetrable … immortal, even, for Salazar knew that destroying Hogwarts would never be possible. It was something that would exist, from now until the end of time, and spawn greatness through the ages – Greatness that he would be remembered for.


Hogwarts, the school, the castle, the legends it would spawn, it was all a part of him. Together, he and three others had shared this dream, had sweat, bled, fought, and strived for this goal – a result that, at times, had seemed futile. But in the end, the dream had been reached, the plan had succeeded. A world’s future depended on the school, where wizards and witches would learn what was needed, to understand the powers and secrets of magic, in order to maintain civilization’s ways.


It was his home, after all; for what else is a home but a place where one feels safe, protected, and in the company of all a man loves? And I will not see it destroyed, he thought to himself, as memories of his travels swirled through his mind’s eye. The outside world was changing; he had seen it with his own eyes. There was talk of shifting powers, altering alliances, changes in long-held and age-old beliefs. Time was changing too much, as more and more, there were newer families encroaching upon the power held by those with prestigious pasts, those who had given everything – blood, tears, and lives – in the pursuit and the maintaining of their world. And those beliefs, those doctrines that had been upheld and defended for centuries, were being forgotten, pushed out of sight and cast aside like they did not matter in the slightest as wizards tried to change too quickly, and attempt to embrace a more liberal outlook. But they do not see what they are destroying in place of it, Salazar thought. They are too ignorant to realise the damage that forgetting such history could do; they do not understand that the changes are unnecessary.


For what is to be gained by compromising ourselves? Why mend what is not broken?


A feeling of anger coursed through the dark-haired wizard at the thoughts, making him want to do nothing more than lash out in frustration, and a small flash of red shone in Slytherin’s dark eyes for the briefest of moments before it passed, disappearing so quickly that Godric was not sure if he had imagined it or not. He did not notice the slightly tense way his friend stood, the tightness in his jaw that existed for but a second in time before Salazar relaxed into his normal attitude. And since his friend did not speak of it, did not seem to be at all different, Gryffindor, believing that imagination had more than likely been at work, put the event from his mind.


“Did you miss this place too much, my friend?� the auburn-haired wizard asked, striding into the Great Hall with Slytherin walking along next to him. “Only a few months having past? I believe you are becoming more sentimental as the years go by.� He laughed as the dark-haired wizard pierced him with a glare, though the slight smile tugging at his lips ruined the expression somewhat.


“Oh, and are you claiming that you do not feel the same, Godric?� Salazar replied as the two men sat down at the table, each reaching for a goblet of wine and savouring the sweet liquid as it coursed down their throats. The house-elves, brought to the school at its beginning by Helga Hufflepuff, never failed in the quality of Hogwarts’s sustenance and always provided the best of the Wizarding World. “Is the strong and noble Gryffindor going to deny his love for this school, when he should know that two lovely witches and I have already witnessed events that reveal his emotions as being quite different?�


Gryffindor opened his mouth to respond, though whether he was going to deny his friend’s words or not, he did not quite know. But as he looked around the Great Hall, his eyes falling on the numerous forms of children ranging from small young ones to witches and wizards that were nearly adults, he realised that he could not say that he did not feel the same. Taking in the sights of the stone walls, their powerful strength holding up the massive castle that was his school; the white clouds showing on the tall ceiling, foretelling another clear weather day in autumn’s beginning; the feeling of the magic as it swept through the room, the corridors, and the very stone itself; Godric knew that he loved Hogwarts … He loved it with every fibre of his being, and it had been a part of him since the beginning. There was simply no denying a truth as strong and clear as that.


“You know that I cannot disagree, Salazar,� he said, his face holding a serious expression for the first time that morning, having replaced the playful and surprised smile he had worn earlier upon the sight of his returned friend. “Not a single one of us can honestly deny a love for this castle, for joy at the success of such a long and trying dream. I mean, years passed as this achievement remained nothing more than an idea, an imagining, a far off and nearly impossible hope. How can anyone truly argue and say that they do not feel love for the conclusion of such a goal? Seeing the children become more and more successful with every passing day, boys and girls fulfilling their own dreams and overcoming their own obstacles, watching them as they grow to become the future of the magical world, that is what success is, my friend. Knowing that I am a part of something that will continue forever, long after my own body is gone … It is the greatest way to be remembered.


“But such is the reason you asked, isn’t it, my friend?� Godric wondered, piercing Salazar with his stare while raising an eyebrow in question. The smile was slowly returning to his bearded face. “You already knew the answer, Salazar; you just wanted to hear me admit to it.�


Slytherin laughed. “Of course I did,� he said, taking another sip of wine as he returned his friend’s gaze. “You are far too easy to read, Godric, I must say … Neither Rowena, Helga, nor I have ever given you the implication that you were not.


“And yes, I knew. I knew because we have all felt – still do feel – the very same. Hogwarts will never be able to fall, and will be the one immortal thing in the Wizarding World … You just expressed the sentiment with more spirit, Godric, though I’m sure Rowena would probably have had a greater amount of wisdom to add as well.�


The laughter grew louder as Gryffindor joined in, until both men had the heads of several students turning in their direction to wonder at why their teachers were acting in such a manner. But the two men’s merriment was, like the youthful and carefree qualities of earlier, quite infectious, and soon conversation in the Great Hall became overpowered by laughter and faces split into grins. Food was forgotten and texts and wands lay abandoned as the young wizards and witches – the future of the Wizarding World – acted like children.


But the laughter of both Gryffindor and Slytherin still carried the farthest and echoed the loudest. The noble Salazar and rugged Godric had abandoned their professional personas for a moment, though not doing so for the first time. Many mornings had passed in just such a manner for them both, and this early October day would just be another one to add to a store of memories from the past.


Such was the way their friendship worked; they were as different as it was possible for two men to be, and had proven such personalities time and time again, but something kept either Salazar or Godric from disliking the other. Rather, the opposite seemed to be truer, in that their differences added a power, a strength, to their friendship that was not seen in many other cases, no matter the relationship. They, whose clashing personalities should have made them bitter enemies, were not so. Rather, the personalities of both Slytherin and Gryffindor had instead worked the other way.


Differences had turned the two men into nearly brothers.


~**~


Author’s Note: All right, that’s the end of this chapter. The third chapter is still in the planning and outlining stages, but if the inspiration holds, I hope to have it written and posted without too long of a wait. In the next part, the focus will be on the other two Founders, with a bit more of Helga’s thoughts on her (prophetic?) dream and Rowena’s take on it.


Thanks so much for reading; I hope you enjoyed it, and please, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think.


~Megan

~**~


Divided We Fall


By megan_lupin


~**~


Chapter III: Do You Believe in Dreams?


~**~


The same warm, autumn sun that shone its rays through the glass windows of the elegant and massive castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry also fell on the single figure that was currently strolling along the blue lake’s shore. Her small feet shuffled along in the dirt, occasionally kicking a little rock or pebble into the water and causing ripples to show on the lake’s surface. She had no set destination in mind when she had left her rooms in the castle to go outdoors. Rather, she allowed her mind to wander just as much as her body while she walked.


There was just something to be said about the simplicity of nature. So simple on the surface, so peaceful and relaxing, yet it had so much complexity underneath, so many things that depended on another. Nature was the perfect example of a team; if just one part failed in its purpose, the entire operation could easily fall apart. Yet at the same time, when one part fell behind, others increased in a desperate effort to keep the balance.


She could never see nature as failing.


At least, never ultimately failing.


And for the past several years, she had always thought the same of the friendship that she shared with the three other adults that usually dwelled with her just beyond the oak doors.


But after last night, Helga Hufflepuff was having doubts about that single – and previously so solid – belief.


Hence, her main reason for taking a simple, destination-less stroll through the school’s grounds.


Flashes of her dream concerning the two men she loved and treated like her brothers kept showing in her mind. She could see a spell fired from Salazar’s wand, and a curse shot from Godric’s. She would hear the taunts and angry words that issued from them both, and she could feel the hatred and disappointment that radiated off of them. Both had been in pain, and not just in the physical sense, either.


Helga had watched the ultimate destruction of a friendship, of a brotherhood, that she never thought would have failed.


And yet, neither Godric nor Salazar had ever shown any of these emotions towards each other.


The last time the kind witch had seen the two men together – several months ago, before Salazar had left on his latest journey – they were acting like the closest of brothers, compatriots in everything that occurred. Salazar’s nobility and stature would loosen up under the influence of the loud and wild Godric Gryffindor, while that same passionate man succeeded in many things with the help and guidance of his dark-haired friend. A better politician than Salazar Slytherin one would be hard-pressed to find in the Wizarding World, and his skill in the technicality of words and hidden clauses of governing laws had helped make Hogwarts the powerful and successful establishment that it had become.


As she walked, Helga surveyed the school’s grounds, her eyes taking in the sights of the rippling water in the lake, the swaying blades of darkening grass. Trees had their already colouring leaves starting to fall to the ground, the branches bending slightly in the wind. The stones that made up the elegant and strong castle altered in their shades of grey, from that of being as light as silver to that of being so dark, one could have almost mistaken it for black. Clear, sparkling glass covered the numerous windows, the sun’s rays gleaming off the surface, and large, oaken doors blocked the entrances of the structure.


And her mind wandered even more, remembering how such a beautiful castle had come to be what it was.


It had been a hope for the four of them, something that had been little more than a simple wish or dream – a basic, yet believed unreachable, longing – in the beginning. Never had the Wizarding World had such a central location for so many young members of their kind to learn to harness their gifts. Parents, families – and in many cases, complete strangers – had previously been responsible for teaching young magical children the ways of a wand.


Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had truly been a novel concept for its time. Surely, the critics claimed, it would not be possible to teach so many children at one time – and at so many ages and learning levels, too. Impossible, they stated. The idea would surely fail.


But neither Rowena and Helga, nor Godric and Salazar, had listened. Brilliant, their own teachers had called them while each had harnessed his or her own power. Yet, when it came to forming such a large Wizarding school, no one had believed they could do it. And had each tried to do it alone – or with just one of the others – those critics may have ended up being correct. Helga knew that.


She knew, as well as she knew anything, that Hogwarts only existed like it did because the four of them had worked and accomplished their goal together.


Rowena Ravenclaw’s intelligence was something that could never have been matched. Her ability to research and know the most unknown of facts – or where to find a particular fact, if she could not recite it immediately – was definitely one of the strongest reasons Hogwarts stood. The most ancient and nearly-forgotten of spells had been required to make the school what it would become, and only Rowena could have succeeded so well in discovering that knowledge and knowing how to put it to use.


Godric Gryffindor’s passion was an emotion also unrivalled by any other person – wizard, witch, or Muggle – ever to live (or so Helga felt). He was a powerful wizard, and intelligent in his own ways, of course, but it was his passion, his drive, his strength in beliefs and his desire to attempt the new and un-attempted that had been his strongest contribution to the creation of the school. Rowena would find the spells and regardless of however untested they may be, Godric would try them.


Salazar Slytherin’s cunning and ambition had been his strongest characteristics in the founding of such an establishment. The dark-haired, noble wizard would rarely jump into a situation unchecked, his depth of examination an exact opposite of Godric’s own ‘act-first-think-later’ personality. An understanding of their world’s laws and government, Salazar had in abundance. Rowena could research any law that she wished, and Salazar could discover its loopholes and unravel the fancy rambles to know exactly what was allowed and what was not within the law’s wording. Having been raised in the type of ancient, noble environment that he had, the knowledge seemed almost inherent in Salazar’s blood, it came so natural to the Parselmouth.


And Helga Hufflepuff … Well, if one had asked her, the blonde-haired, soft-spoken witch would have simply smiled, her kindness as clear as day to even a complete stranger, and say that the other three had been her friends, and that she could have done nothing else but help them.


The others, however, would say a little more. They would tell tales of her way with the children and their parents, once the school had progressed to such a length and it was time for searching out its future students. A natural ease, Helga gave to the people that she talked with; she was a person that one could not help but trust – the parents knew that she would care for their children, and the children knew that her presence would ease any homesickness they may have.


Her gifts with the natural plant life was nearly as unrivalled as Salazar’s in the Potions chambers, a fact that had been made clear so very long ago, when Helga Hufflepuff had been merely a small child. Whether it was a nearly dangerous magical plant or something as harmless as a simple wildflower, Helga’s magical touch was put to use, and it was with her help that the grounds of Hogwarts continued to maintain their magnificence.


Alone, none of them would have succeeded. Not even had there been only two or three of them attempting to achieve the goal would Hogwarts have grown to be the grand place that it currently was. No, Helga knew with certainty that Hogwarts had needed the entire quartet; it had needed Godric, Salazar, Rowena, and herself – not one, not two, not three, but four.


And surely, four it must remain, she thought, pausing in her walk along the lake’s shores and taking a seat against the cool bark of a nearby tree. She wiggled her feet from her shoes, freeing her body from its temporary constraints to feel the blades of grass between her toes. The images from her dream had slowly started to be pushed aside while Helga had allowed her mind to wander about the school’s past, but now they came back in full force, flashing in her mind’s eye as clear as if she was watching the fight play out in front of her once again.


She was so lost in her thoughts of the dream that Helga did not hear the large, heavy oak doors open. She did not hear the steps of the approaching figure, though the visitor made no effort to quiet their steps. She did not even notice that another stood next to her, the figure’s shadow falling over the pensive Helga, until her name was spoken and a hand was laid upon her shoulder, jerking her from her thoughts.


“Helga?�


Helga gave a slight jump, turning her head enough to see Rowena Ravenclaw standing over her. The other witch’s long, dark locks of hair fell down her back, the strands slightly curled in their loose and natural state. Blue eyes surveyed the sitting woman, a slight look of concern radiating from their depths as she stared at her friend. “Is everything alright?� she asked, not removing her pale hand from Helga’s shoulder.


A bit of silence fell over the two witches for a brief moment, Helga only giving a small nod as an answer to Rowena’s inquiry. Helga’s gaze soon returned to the lake’s shoreline, and the fair-skinned woman knew that the witch she viewed almost as a sister had not been fooled by her simple action. The shuffling sounds that came from footsteps and the swishing of clothing told Helga that Rowena was taking her own seat against the tree’s solid trunk.


“What is on your mind?�


Her gaze not leaving the water, Helga sighed before answering. “Rowena,� she started before pausing again, allowing silence to fall over the two witches for the second time that morning. It did not last long, however, before Helga continued. This time, though, she moved her eyes’ stare from the lake to meet the sapphire orbs of the woman next to her.


“Do you believe in dreams?� she whispered. “Do you believe that they have the power to foretell the future – and if so, is it such a future that is irreversible, a future that will occur no matter the actions of anyone? Do you believe, Rowena, that the most unlikely thing, if it was dreamed about in such a way, would happen – regardless of how impossible it seems?�


A simple smile graced the thick lips of the dark-haired beauty that had also been gifted enough to hold such immense intelligence. Helga watched the expression grow, and she knew, before Rowena had even opened her mouth to answer, that the other witch was about to dismiss her concerns.


“Helga, what is it that has you so concerned?� she wondered, slowly shaking her head. “A dream is just that – a dream. It is not real, Helga –�


But Helga was shaking her own head, the action sending her unrestrained blonde hair flying with the movement. “No, Rowena, I do not think such was the case this time,� she said. Upon seeing Rowena readying for a reply, Helga raised her hand, pleading silence from her friend. “You did not see what I did last night,� she whispered. “The dream was unlike any other; it was so very real, so vivid, that it could be nothing else but a foretelling of something to come –�


“What did you see, Helga?� interrupted Rowena. “What is it that you believe is being foretold?�


“That is just it, my friend,� the younger woman answered. “What I saw, it could not have been happening. There is surely no way that either of them will come to such odds, to come to a point where each is prepared and ready to kill the other …�


For the third time that morning, silence fell. Helga spent the quiet minutes taking her gaze around the grounds once again, their bright orbs staring upon the lake, the castle, the forest, the mountains – every bit of the nature that surrounded her. She could feel the intense curiosity coming off of Rowena as the other woman remained next to her; she knew that, while her gaze wandered, Rowena’s blue eyes remained locked on herself.


“You are referring to Salazar and Godric, are you not?�


Helga was not surprised by Rowena’s words; the intelligent witch was bound to have figured out the answer and implications soon. And as she nodded, confirming her friend’s statement, Helga continued.


“It was during the summer, I believe, or perhaps the spring,� she began, her voice low in volume, though the words were clearly heard. “The weather should have been peaceful and bright, but it was dark – storm clouds covered the sky, the light of the sun hidden behind their grey blankets. I do not know where they were – a field or valley or some-such place.


“But it was just the two of them; only Godric and Salazar were present. And the hatred that could be felt between them … Rowena, I have never felt or seen such dark emotions come from anyone as what I saw in them. Pure despise shone on their faces, my friend; both Salazar and Godric looked as if they had the desire to destroy and kill the other – and no remorse would have been felt had either been slain.


“They fought … and Rowena, I saw them both hurl such dark curses at each other and such insults flew from their lips! You, as I have, have seen both Godric and Salazar in battle; we have seen them fight against some of the darkest enemies of this world. But what I saw in that dream was unlike anything I had seen before. And then …�


Here, Helga paused in her story once again. A slight frown appeared on her youthful-looking face, her teeth biting her lip in their brief hesitancy. She knew Rowena’s interest was still on her words, her friend’s mind trying to dissect and understand every single piece of the story – seeking meaning and divining knowledge – while her gaze remained locked on the fair-haired witch. The fact that she had hesitated would be obvious to Rowena, but Helga did not know precisely how to relate the rest of the dream to Rowena.


For not even Helga quite understood what had happened in the rest of the dream.


“What happened?� The words barely registered in Helga’s mind, and though she still did not quite know how to finish the story, she continued to speak.


“Both of them fired a spell at the same time,� she whispered, her words coming slow, almost as if Helga was trying to figure out what she was saying as she spoke. “The light connected, but then, they disappeared. There was a flash of light, and Godric and Salazar were no longer there.


“There were two others in their place, though I did not recognise either of them, Rowena. I could only tell that one of them held a very slight resemblance to Salazar, but now that I think over it again, I suppose that could easily have been for no other reason than the fact that he was now standing in Salazar’s former position … I do not know.


“But they became surrounded by a – a cage of light, I suppose. And there was a beautiful sound that started – Oh, Rowena, the music was unlike anything you could have ever heard. Lovely and piercing, it felt as if it had the ability to warm the soul. Such power, such strength in the simple thing of music, I have never experienced. And it grew louder and louder, until it suddenly stopped –


“And I woke up.�


Once Helga had finished her tale, she returned her complete attention to Rowena’s face, awaiting the other witch’s response. She watched as Rowena’s face showed the visual signs of her thinking, working so many pieces of a puzzle around in her mind until – most of the time – she arrived at the perfect answer. There was the slight frown of her lips and the way that her eyes seemed to glaze over as if she entered a trance, both signs that Helga had seen many times throughout the years that she had known the witch.


“What do you believe, Rowena?� she asked. “Do you believe in dreams?�


~**~


Author’s Note: Well, there you have it! I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and getting a look at Helga and Rowena, what with Salazar and Godric being such a major focus in the previous chapter. Once again, apologies for the delay, and the fourth chapter will be coming in the future. If everything works out like I think it will, the chapter should be focussing on all four of the Founders.


Oh, and by the way, in this chapter, Helga does not know that Salazar has already returned. She left the castle before he entered, and was in a position on the grounds that she did not notice his arrival when he did come back from his journey. So, as far as Helga is aware of at this point, Salazar is still away from the school.


Anyway, thank you so very much for reading, and to everyone who has left a review/favourited this story/etc., I give you an extra “Thanks�: spiderwort and Heiress_of_Insanity_. Please, don’t hesitate to share your thoughts, everyone!


~Megan