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"Chapter One: The Beginning"
By: Shadowkat678
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By: Shadowkat678
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Summary: History speaks of four friends, a school they founded, and a division that still echoes through the halls of Hogwarts today. Yet, that great castle was never truly the beginning, and it most certainly wasn't the end... ( As this is the first chapter, it's of course the introduction. By the end of the second chapter, however...let's say it speeds up a bit. )
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Long ago, there lived four of the greatest witches and wizards of their age: the brave Godric Gryffindor from Wild Moor, the wise Rowena Ravenclaw from Glen, the kind Helga Hufflepuff from Valley Broad, and the cunning Salazar Slytherin from Fen.
Together, as you know, they founded one of the most prestigious magical schools in history: Hogwarts. Yet, that's only one part of a far larger story. Be warned, dear readers, for I cannot promise a happy tale, only a true one. With that knowledge in mind, feel free to continue...
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The day with which we begin was a pleasant one, the air blowing warm and gentle as the sun shone high in a blue summer sky. Birds chirped up in the trees as laughing children chased each other in games around the village square. Yet, there was one who would not be seen with the rest. So it happened that young Salazar could be found in his normal hideaway that fine evening, far from the laughter of others and sitting quite contentedly up in an oak, his head trapped firmly and predictably in a book. A peaceful scene...at least, for the moment.
"Salazar, Salazar Slytherin!"
The young man started, saving himself a split second before falling from the nook he'd wedged into. His book, however, wasn't nearly as lucky.
With a slight scowl, Salazar glanced down to see his mother, Amara, gently picking up the leather-bound tome. Little wisps of chestnut hair had escaped the bun she'd attempted to trap them into, and her grey eyes were tired, the heavy bags making her seem far older than her thirty-five years. Yet as she raised her face to look at him, he saw that she was smiling, and his scowl lessened.
"Reading out in the woods again, I see," she called, then shook her head and smiled. "It must be a good story. I shouted your name three times before you'd even look up from the dratted thing."
Salazar merely shrugged and muttered a quick "well you didn't have to yell" under his breath before beginning the short climb down, jumping the last few feet and bending his legs as he hit the grassy ground. Amara smiled knowingly as he took back his book, and Salazar frowned, cocking an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Nothing," she answered dismissively, though the grin was still there. "I was just thinking how much you're like your father, both of you always stuck in some dusty pages." Amara reached out to ruffle his hair and bit back a laugh as he hurriedly shook her off.
And he really was like him, she thought. The same dark, calculating eyes, the sharp face and inky hair, their dry wit and thin frame...and the identically infuriating habit of acting far more serious than they should. Another small smile tugged at her lips.
Just like he was, way back when...maybe they were too much alike. Then again, that was one of the traits that drew her in the first place.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, Amara inclined her head towards the general direction of their cottage.
"Come on, lad, there're things I'd still like help with before nightfall. You won't get out of chores that easy."
As she turned and started back, Salazar simply nodded, contenting himself to follow without reply with book held firmly under arm. It was just another day. Like yesterday, all the days before, and many other days to come. That's how it always was, and it wouldn't change anytime soon.
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Godric let his gaze wander around the crowded streets, fully aware that he likely seemed to anyone who was him as lost as he truly was.Though in his own defense, it wasn't as if he'd been there long enough to know where everything was, and he certainly wasn't seeing any signs.
After a hard two weeks ride, including about a dozen instances of backtracking and multiple moments contemplating how badly someone could mess up a map, it was a welcome relief when he finally spotted the town's dark clouds of chimney smoke rising over trees and hills in the distance. Approximately an hour thereafter he rode into the small village of Florin, leaving his horse with a weary looking stable boy and spending quite a bit more coin than he liked before their short conversation was done. So now he arrived, and with absolutely no clue where he was headed.
Godric looked around once more, hoping to spot someone he might ask for directions, but anyone else who might have known who he was looking for, or at the very least where he could start his search, were lost in their own business as they jostled each other about in the daily rush of the market place. Sighing, Godric picked a random direction and started his search.
It didn't matter much anyway, he supposed. Asking around wasn't what you'd a good idea for a stranger to do coming to a new town nowadays. Even with the guise of a common traveler, Godric already received more than his fair share of suspicious glances. Times were changing quickly, and it didn't take much to draw unwanted attention. He could only imagine the reaction if they caught him walking around with a wand instead of his sword...
Just in time, Godric snapped out of his thoughts and hurriedly sidestepped few children as they chased each other in some sort of game, smiling wistfully as they rushed off. When was the last time he spent a day so innocently? Nothing to worry about short of games and chores.
Smiling grimly to himself, he kept walking, at this point half convinced he'd ridden all those miles just to turn around and leave. After all, how did he know his old mentor was even in the same town? The man could have moved a dozen times over since his informant had last seen him. Would he even recognize the man if he was there? He'd been fifteen the last time he saw him, that was twelve years ago. Who knows how much the old man could have changed.
'Blast Corial and his vague instructions. Clear as water he said, can't go wrong he said. Master mapmaker my backside. When I get back...well, I'll think of something. Maybe he'll remember to give me a better map next time.'
Suddenly, Godric slowed to a stop. Swinging in the light breeze above him was a worn looking sign with a book chiseled into its surface. Godric chuckled to himself as he strode inside, a bell chiming softly as the door swung open. He should have known.
The moment his right foot crossed the threshold he was instantly assaulted by the scent of musty paper and dust, and a strange sense of comfort washed over him. Memories of long lights and lessons poured over him, and his lips twitched upwards as he walked fully in. Those certainly weren't memories he'd imagined himself thinking fondly of...
As the door shut behind him and he rounded a large shelf of books and merchandise, Godric's steps faltered. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but what he was seeing wasn't it. Two men stood in front of him, neither seeming to have noticed his entry, and one was exactly who he'd been looking for.
Ingvar Slytherin stood calmly with arms crossed and pale face expressionless as a man, at least a head taller (though shorter still than Godric by a good few inches) glowered down at him. He couldn't be much older than Godric himself, maybe thirty at the most, with a head of dark blond hair tied neatly back by a strip of leather. Judging by the clothes he wasn't a farmer, or any lower status of most in a small town like Florin. The narrowed grey eyes, aggressive stance, everything about him came together to form someone Godric couldn't say he liked, and he doubted the man simply came for an afternoon chat, even if it seemed he only came in at the tail end of the conversation.
"-said no, and I'd advise against throwing threats at my family, Marcus. Only a fool would bring themselves to so low a level, and there's only one fool I can find here,"Ingvar smiled coldly. "If you can't see him, I'd suggest getting yourself a mirror. Now, for the last time I'm asking you to leave..."
The man's face flushed, and Ingvar leaned back on the counter, an expression halfway between uncaring and cold plastered on his face. Godric knew that look, Marcus shot a furious look at the shopkeeper, and in that moment it seemed he was about to throttle the older man. When Marcus finally spoke, it was between gritted teeth.
"Have it your way," Marcus spat. "but don't think this entire town isn't aware that there's something wrong about you and your family. I have eyes here, and rumors spread quickly. Remember that, old man."
That said (or more accurately, snarled), the stranger spun on his heel, storming past Godric and out of the shop. Momentarily, the noise of the outside streets filtered in, then the door closed with a click and all was returned to a muffled silence once more. As the seconds dragged by, Godric finally turned from the door to see a set of dark eyes casually watching him.
"It's been awhile, lad." Ingvar stood calmly, hands clasped behind his back as dust swirled in the space between them. The old snake was still smiling, but this one wasn't cold, and there was a spark in his eye the younger man hadn't seen in years. "I see you've finally hit that growth spurt you'd been waiting for. Looks like your body finally caught up with your head..."
In that moment, it was almost as if those ten years apart had never passed at all, the wall of time melting away as a sudden feeling of nostalgia bubbled up within him. It was so rare to see such honest casualness in a man like him, and the young wizard almost hated to ruin it.
Almost.
"I guess it really has been a while...but whoever that stranger was, he was right about one thing." Godric shot him a boyish grin. "You really are looking quite old!"
The smile on Ingvar's face vanished instantly, but Godric's didn't. In fact, it only widened. Just in the nick of time he spotted the warning gleam spark up in Ingvar's eyes and he hastily dropped to the floor, grunting as he landed and his sword sheath dug painfully into his leg. Not even half a second later a thick book shoot like an arrow through the space his head had been, and a resounding thud echoed through the shop. Godric cringed, imagining how much that would have hurt. Likely, he realized, quite a bit.
Hearing footsteps, Godric turned awkwardly on his back, going slightly cross eyed as he stared down the length of a slender wand suddenly pointed at his face. Ash with a core of unicorn hair, twelve inches if he remembered correctly. Funny, he thought, what thoughts bubble to the surface at the strangest times.
Yet, despite his current position, he knew that even grouchy old Slytherin could only hold back a smile for so long. Experience held true.
"You always did say the most foolish things, boy. At least that hasn't seemed to have changed. Out of all your antics, that might have been the most annoying by far..."
Godric rolled his eyes in response as Ingvar lowered his wand and slipped it back into a concealed pocket within his sleeve, holding out a hand to help pull his former pupil to his feet.
"To you, maybe," he countered. "But there have been quite a few others that called it endearing. I myself tend to consider it a compliment."Ingvar scowled, but Godric saw the small twinkle in his eyes, and knew that it was an act. A good one, yes, and one that many wouldn't spot...but it was still an act.
Every time it was worth it, he could just never seem to help himself. There were times you couldn't resist poking at a coiled snake, especially after so long not having the chance. Even if said snake was known for his famous temper.
"Like I said more or less earlier, you talk too much. And I'm afraid that those young girls you always were so fond of showing off to don't count. They would have called anything you did enduring…no matter how idiotic."
At that, even Ingvar couldn't hold back a smile, and it really was as if he'd never left. After all that had happened it felt good to be back.
Yet inside, a cold hand tightened around his chest. If only he was just there for a casual reunion, but dark times brought even darker news. Godric couldn't delude himself of that. However, maybe he could imagine, until tomorrow night at the latest.
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A/N: Fourth wall? That's strange, I don't see a fourth wall. Unless, that is, you mean that piece of demolished rubble over in the corner there.
Since there is an astonishing lack of stories for these characters, I'm taking charge of uncovering their history myself. Not a single chapter will be put up without extensive editing. It might be a bit slow, but I'll try and do my best. There's a lot going on in life, you know?
~Kat
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Information:
Disclaimer: I'm obviously not J.K. Rowling.
Genre(s): General, Action/Adventure
Era: Founders
Pairings: Other Pairing
Warnings: Mild profanity, violence, maybe some upcoming sensitive topics/issues/themes.