Gone are my days of bliss and happiness, though they lasted longer than most could dream of. This school I helped build has been the greatest accomplishment of my life, has brought about my greatest happiness, and has seen my greatest misery. So should all the best companions, I suppose. Hogwarts has been like a dear friend to me, and I have done everything I can for it so it can survive long past myself.
I suppose we always knew the school would outlive us. In fact, we all vocally hoped for it, though deep in our hearts, we never believed it. Hogwarts had been our dream, our collective vision, and it seemed unfair that it should go on while we dropped away, one by one, like the petals on a flower.
My dreams have long lost their grandeur, and now I live only for this school and my Helena. My days of greatness have passed. Some may stay in history, but my time for glory has expired. Finally, I am wise enough to realise that I cannot always be noticed, praised, and adored, and I do not mind. Such concerns are for the young. I have believed that all my life, and I only now realise how right I was back then, even while I was so very foolish.
My dearest Salazar.... Did you know this would happen? Your eyes always seemed to hold secrets I could never fathom, no matter how long I knew you. In sooth, meeting you changed my life from the moment you appeared on my doorstep, and while now I lie in pain, I have not a single regret. Not for this school, for our daughter, or for us. I am in misery only because you made me so happy, and I never did anything in return.
Now, for I do not know how much time I have left, I shall write the story as I know it. History has a way of warping many things or losing precious, important details, and I hope to counter some of that.
Please, bear with me. I am taking artistic license with my history because some of these memories have been lost to time or argument. I cannot now look back to reference everything, nor do I wish to. For the first time in my life, accuracy is not a concern. This is my tale, our tale. The tale of the Hogwarts Four. A tale of history in the making.
A tale of a man and a woman.
******
Something about him intrigued me immediately.
I had heard some tales of Salazar Slytherin, both in gossip and in books, and all accounts held that he was a highly intelligent man. The impression I had now did nothing to trump the rumours. Indeed, if anything, it enhanced them. He was older than I by at least fifteen years, bearded and stoic, but with a gleam in his eye that spoke captivating things to me his mouth did not quite get to. He had shown up rather unexpectedly at my door not too long ago, just as the sun was setting over the lake, throwing rose-coloured light and shadows across the highlands around my home. Silhouetted by the sunset and wearing midnight black robes, mine immediate thought had been that he ‘twas a wizard not to be underestimated.
“I have heard things about you, Mistress Ravenclaw, all the way down in England,” he said, leaning back in the brown leather armchair and peering at me with those inscrutable, strangely intelligent grey eyes. “Some friends and I had a project in mind which I hoped might interest you.”
I smiled at him, running my fingers over the edge of mine ear, feeling the soft black strands against my skin. But my hair had been pulled back, leaving nothing to be tucked away. “I am flattered, truly, but I have little interest in going to England.”
“I think you might change your mind,” he said, “after you hear what I have to say.”
I inclined my head. “By all means.”
He paused a moment as the snapping of the fire attempted to fill the silence. I did nothing to help. Slytherin had come to me on some errand, and he should be able to broach the subject on his own. His eyes pierced me with all the effectiveness of magic, and I straightened, partially self-conscious but also a bit defiant. His commanding presence in my home offended me both as a woman and a Scot. As a man, and a foreigner at that, he should be more humble in a lady’s home.
“Forgive me for being so abrupt,” he said finally, “but am I right in assuming you are still quite young?”
I lifted an eyebrow coolly. “You are very bold to ask, Master Slytherin, but yes. I shall be one and twenty in a few months.”
He nodded almost thoughtfully, though for some reason I felt sure the information was not new to him. “Unusual for someone so young to have their discoveries spread even to other countries, no matter how close.”
“History is made by the young,” I responded, lifting my chin. Slytherin was far from the first to judge me by mine age. “The young are more willing to make new discoveries, while the old are content with tradition.”
“But only with age comes wisdom,” he responded easily. “Wisdom and rashness do not get along.”
Determined not to be outdone, I said, “Wisdom does not often come at all, with or without the help of age.”
“Truly, but only with the combination of intelligence and age can one become wise. Wisdom is built off a foundation of experience, and ‘tis just that, good Mistress,” he continued, his eyes narrowing intently, “that I come to offer you: experience.”
“...Very well,” I said, a smile pulling on the corner of my mouth despite my wishes. “You have mine attention.”
Slytherin smiled back, a tight smirk. “Excellent. You see, I happen to agree with you: the young are the ones often inciting change and succeeding at it. Your reputation of intelligence precedes you, Mistress, and for these reasons, I come with a proposal.
“In these dark times, I am sure you can agree the most important thing is education. Bringing up the next generation so they will be better able to bring up their children.” His smirk widened. “For, after all, if we do not change the young, we will change nothing.” I bowed my head in acknowledgment. “My friends and I, back in England, have decided to start a school. If you choose to join us, it would make four: you, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and myself.”
Something fluttered deep in my chest, but I schooled mine expression. I did not wish him to see how flattered and, indeed, intimidated I was by the idea. “I haven’t much thought about teaching,” I said instead.
“Whyever not?” he asked, frowning in what seemed to be genuine puzzlement. “If you appreciate knowledge and intelligence, surely you appreciate the idea of passing it on. If for no other reason than that if no one else was intelligent, who then could you talk to?”
I could not help it”I laughed out loud. “You have an interesting view of the world, Master Slytherin.”
“We will be building it from the ground up,” he continued, catching mine eye. “Just the four of us, teaching the way we think magic ought to be taught. If you decide to join us, that is.”
I had already made up my mind, but I had no intention of telling him that just yet. “Has any work been done?”
“No. I was actually on my way to London to meet up with them but detoured out here to speak with you.” The firelight playing over the contours of his face made it hard to gauge his expression. “Tonight is supposed to be the meeting, so we do not have much more time to dawdle. If you choose to join me, we must be on our way. If not, I would request the use of your fireplace.” I met his eyes for a moment, such a pale shade of grey that they donned the flickering orange colour to eerie effect. His eyes seemed to have a fire of their own which drew me in, warmed me with grandiose dreams. His voice came from far away, echoing between mine ears. “And so, Mistress Ravenclaw? A school that encompasses the entire island, from the highest peak of Scotland to the lowest moor in Wales. All the magical blood in our countries, trained by us four alone.”
I hesitated a moment longer, reluctant to withdraw from the pleasant visions glowing in his eyes, but the possibility of turning those visions into reality with mine own hands drew me out. “Trained by us alone? Surely you do not expect for our school to immediately teach all of the children in Scotland, England, and Wales?”
His eyes sparked. “Our school,” he repeated under his breath. “Indeed not, Mistress. That would naturally take time. However, it appears you have already adopted the idea as your own.”
“Perhaps.” I suppose the slip did not matter since I had every intention of joining him, but even so, it rankled.
“All things take time,” Slytherin added. “Just bringing Hogwarts up to””
“Hogwarts?”
“The, ah, working name.” He did not appear entirely satisfied with it, either. “Godric suggested it.”
Hogwarts. Unorthodox though it may be, I rather liked it. My grey robes whispered as I stood. “Well then, where to, Master Slytherin?”
He smiled politely”though I detected an underlying layer of triumph”and stood with a swish of his black robes.
I glanced about the house I had called home for these past few years. Small but comfortable, and with every room lined in books. I had disobeyed my parents and flouted tradition in order to come here, to my little cottage by the lake. My dreams had never been of creature comforts, after all. I desired an entirely different scale of “grand.”
For now, my books would have to remain behind, but I promised myself to return. In fact, I decided, my collection would be the beginning of the school’s library. Books must never go to waste. One last, deep breath of the musty scent of old pages, the subtle undertone of leather, the sharp prick of ink. Mine own little farewell to this house for now because I did not know when I would see it next.
I paused briefly, then crossed over to my desk to retrieve a couple rolls of parchment, a bottle of my favoured ink the deep colour of blue lilies, and my old reliable eagle-feather quill. Just in case. All of these I stowed away with my wand.
Finally, I turned to Slytherin, and together we stepped towards the fireplace.
Hogwarts: A Beginning by Faile
Story Notes:
The first four lines of the summary are taken from page 176 of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
Chapter Endnotes: Thanks to my beta, Rhi for HP. ^_^