I have magic.
It is real. I have proof. I’ve known all along that there was something different about me. There was something that no one else would understand, even if I had dared to tell them. There was something that would haunt me deep in the night- a power, hidden in the dark recesses of my mind. It was a power long forgotten, and accessible to only those who believe and understand.
Someone else understands. Two someones, in fact.
Let me go back to the beginning:
They arrived at my home this morning, with a few other members of the royal family, who were hoping to speak to my father about the lands under his control.
We met the king and queen on the grounds in front of my home. Two boys rode in the escort behind the monarchs. One wore the tunic of the royal family, his dark hair swept messily away from high, arched brows and haughty gray eyes. The other was dressed more simply, and his pale brown hair spilled from under his hat in a jumble of curls. His broad, open face and bright blue eyes gave him a friendly appearance.
While my parents made the appropriate bowings and scrapings toward the king and queen, the two boys on horses scrutinized me closely. The first boy dismounted gracefully from his horse, and bowed low, the picture of a perfect gentleman.
“Prince Salazar, at your service,” he said, grinning slightly and emphasizing the word “prince”. I curtsied as neatly as possible, and introduced myself to the heir to the throne, while the other boy jumped down from his horse.
“Rowena Ravenclaw,” I said, giving Salazar a half smile.
“Godric Gryffindor, also at your service,” said the other boy, bowing just as deeply. I gave him a curtsy as well, my dark red gown just brushing the dirt of the road.
“I’m going to be the Prince’s squire someday,” Godric informed me. “I’m not actually part of the royal family. Which means you didn’t really have to curtsy.”
“Rowena, dear,” my mother interrupted, “do show these two young gentlemen around for me, won’t you? We’re going into the house, but I thought such charming young men might like to see the stables…”
She was immediately distracted by a question from the queen, leaving me no space to respond, but it didn’t really matter. I nodded to Godric and Salazar and turned on my heel, my gown swishing, to lead them across the lawn to the stables.
The day was bright and clear, a soft breeze playing gently in the trees and tossing my dark hair around my shoulders. When we reached the stables, I led the way inside, the sickly sweet smell of hay hitting my nose full force. A few horses whinnied softly at the intrusion of two boys they didn’t know. Salazar stood in the middle of the stalls, staring carefully at them, but Godric went right up to the nearest mare, a tawny chestnut one, and stroked her neck, blowing gently on her nose so she would learn his scent. Then, he turned to me, grinning.
“I like her,” he said. “What’s her name?”
“Adelaide,” I replied. “She seems to like you as well.”
Salazar stepped over to Godric, reaching out his slim fingers to touch her mane. He gave another half grin when Adelaide nudged him to get him to come closer, and he leaned towards her, burying his hand in her hair. I walked over to them, reaching into the pocket of my dress for a few crumbly oats, and held my hand out for Adelaide to help herself. I laughed when her whiskers tickled, and that got the boys chuckling slightly as well.
“I sometimes think Adelaide could talk to me, if only I could understand her,” I said, more to myself then to the boys. Salazar shot Godric a quick look, almost too fleeting for me to catch it, and Godric opened his mouth as if he was about to say something. However, he closed it again quickly, and I could have sworn I saw Salazar step on his foot. Deciding not to comment, I stroked Adelaide a little bit more. She whinnied softly, and sniffed my hand, clearly hoping for more oats.
“Do you two want to see something neat?” I asked, suddenly inspired. Godric nodded eagerly and Salazar shrugged. I led them to the dark place in the back of the stable, where all the tack was kept for the horses. Grabbing a rusty pail, I showed them where several nooks had been carved into the wall.
“Look,” I said, pointing up into the gloom. “There’s an old hayloft up there. This is where it’s good to climb up.” I stepped onto the pail and clambered up the wall like a monkey, ignoring the fact that a loose nail had scratched my dress.
“Whoa,” Godric said, and scrambled up after me. Salazar followed without speaking.
The hayloft had been my secret place since I was old enough to climb up. I was pretty sure some of the hostlers knew it was there, but they either didn’t bother climbing up, or weren’t clever enough to find a way. Godric peered around into the gloom when he reached the top, and I lit a small candle that I’d left in the corner, illuminating the rough wood floor covered in a small amount of hay, and my pile of old books I’d stashed in a corner.
“What are those?” Salazar asked, indicating the old tomes with a shrewd look on his face.
“Books,” I answered stiffly, watching him. He seemed dissatisfied with my answer, and opened his mouth to speak again, but Godric cut in. Unseen by either of us, he had grabbed the top books and was reading the titles.
“The Powers of the Gods, The Tale of Pyramus and Thisbe, The”“
“Stop!” I shouted, grabbing them out of his hands. “What I read is none of your business!”
“Those books have been named evil, Rowena. You could be burned as a heretic for that,” Salazar said evenly.
My face whitened and I felt suddenly breathless. I had hoped my new friends would not know the origins of the stories I loved so much, but Salazar was clever. His eyes met my blue ones and I could see his power in every inch of their dark gray depths. I stared at him refusing to let him see my fear.
“I know,” I said quietly, refusing to tear my eyes away from his. “But they were wrongly indicted.” Salazar tore his gaze away from mine as Godric spoke again. I started slightly; I had nearly forgotten he was in the loft.
“Why?” he said cautiously, a calculating expression on his friendly features.
“Because they are beautiful stories,” I said, my voice stronger. “Stories that tell of a time when everyone had power. When women could perform miracles. When true love survived.”
“You believe there is such a thing as miracles? There is such a thing as love?” Godric asked, his voice sounding strangely hopeful.
“Yes,” I said. If they were going to call me a heretic, I might as well go for the full disclosure. Godric looked at Salazar for a moment and an unspoken understanding seemed to pass between them.
“Rowena,” Salazar said, turning away from Godric to face me, “do you believe in magic?”
His eyes met mine again, and Godric was watching me too. Magic? Did I believe in magic?
“Yes,” I said. The boys sat down on the floor, and slightly nonplussed, I copied them.
“We have some things to tell you,” Godric whispered.
So that’s what brought me to where I am now, sitting in my bedroom, writing this down. I figure that someday, someone might want to learn about this magic that I have. I understand it now. Magic is real. But you have to believe in it for it to happen. You have to be in the right mindset. You have to know that it’s possible.
There was once a time when many people did magic. There was a time when magic was accepted and explored to the fullest. People used to research new spells, and teach them to others. I would love to do that. The crazy thing is, I might get a chance to.
Godric and Salazar have a book that tells you how to do magic spells. They found it in the catacombs of the royal castle. With magic, I’m sure I can do anything, but the idea is so great and terrible, I’m almost afraid to start. But we have to try. We’re the ones who can bring the magic back. It’s a scary thought- the thought that all the magic in the world is in the hands of three thirteen year olds.
But that’s the other thing. There might be a fourth person. Someone else might join us. Next week, we go to see her. Her name is Helga Hufflepuff, and in two weeks, she’s going to be burned at the stake, accused of heresy… and witchcraft.
Only Those Who Believe by smiley10792
Chapter Notes: This story has been great fun for me to write. It's different than what I usually do, but I had a lot of fun deciding how each of the four founders would behave, and how early magic spells worked. Please let me know what you think, and remember: everything you don't recognize belongs to the super cool JK Rowling!