He did not know what to say, did not know what to do.  He had never known what to do with a crying woman.  Were you supposed to envelop her in a warm embrace and whisper soothing words of comfort of how everything was going to be fine, even when it was not?  Were you supposed to stand idly by, pretending that you did not see her tears, and thus not embarrass her further?

Though, she was not actually crying, so perhaps he did not need to apply either of these actions.  She merely stood, chin against her collarbone, his cloak around her shoulders, a silent soldier who battles not enemies, but friends.

After standing motionless and mute beside her for quite some time, he could do nothing no longer.  Floundering wildly for something to do, he made the first move he could think of, and reached inside his robes, withdrawing a clear potions bottle half-full with a glowing blue liquid.  He lifted one of Helga’s hands in his own; with his other hand, he pressed the bottle against her palm, wrapping her fingers around its surface.

“Calming Draught,” he offered briefly as she lifted her head towards him.

She raised the bottle to eye-level.  “I am no Potions master, Salazar, but even I am aware of the fact that Calming Draughts are meant to be green when properly brewed, not blue.  Surely thou knows it too, being as skilled as thee is in this field.”

“I do indeed, but I’ve been experimenting.  This mixture of ingredients works better than the ones thou may have seen previously.  Trust me.”

Her eyes flickered with some emotion he couldn’t interpret at this last statement �“  he realized too late how wrong it was of him to ask such a thing of her �“ but she uncorked the bottle without further question and took a large swallow.

He somehow found himself giving a wry smile as she recorked the bottle and handed it back to him with a word of thanks.  “Godric would have immediately assumed what I offered to him was poison, and then would’ve thrown the brew in my eyes.”

She smiled too, but it was not wry, only sad.  “I know thou would never offer me a poison, Salazar.  We disagree over much, but we are still as bonded as any siblings who are related by blood.”

“Blood brothers and sisters kill each other,” he contradicted darkly, looking towards the front entrance of Hogwarts as he put the potion back inside his robe pocket.  “Even if not by a physical wound, they still stab one another in many other forms.  And they still leave scars.”

Eyes wet with tears she hadn’t yet cried, Helga reached out a hand and placed it on his forearm; still so unused to physical contact, he had to remind himself not to upset her further by pulling away.  “Salazar �“ ” she began, but stopped when, distracted, he took her hand and lifted it towards his face, lighting his wand to better see.

“What is it?” said Helga, after letting him scrutinize her fingers for a minute.

“There is blood on thy hand,” he intoned slowly.

“Dried blood, yes.  What of it?”

“There is blood on a flower in Rowena’s room.”  He released her hand, meeting her eyes.

She bit her lip, but did not break his steady gaze.  “I was . . . grieving.  I was mad with this grief, I was not thinking clearly at all.  I thought that perhaps I could employ ancient magic of rumors and myths, and bring her back . . . cut wounds in us both and mix our bloods by the pure white flower, as the ancients supposedly did . . . but after I made the cut upon myself, I realized how foolish I was being.  There is no way for the dead to return to us.”

“Thou was hurting,” Salazar comforted her. “Actions such as that are understandable �“ ”

She shook her head, ashamed.  “I still should have never �“ ” She broke off, her sight on something over his shoulder.  He stepped around to stand beside her and look at what had captured her attention.  Coming towards them was a short man with a slight potbelly, a trunk in his hands, his wand tucked behind his ear.

“Good evening!” he said as he neared them.

“Good evening,” Helga and Salazar chorused back, the former as cheerful and polite as ever, the latter with a good degree of wariness.

“You must be the good people called Godric and Helga who run this school,” the man said, stopping in front of them and putting his trunk on the ground.

“I am Helga, yes, but this is not Godric,” Helga amended hastily, “this is �“ ”

“A man who is merely passing through this magnificent school,” Salazar jumped into their dialogue smoothly, bowing his head at the man.  Gossip was high enough as it was.  He did not need word to get out that the infamous Salazar Slytherin had returned to Hogwarts, even if it was only for a night.

“It is magnificent, isn’t it?” said the stranger warmly.  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you.  I wrote earlier this week and delivered a message by owl that I would be coming,” he added to Helga.

“Oh, yes!” said Helga.  “Thou is Geoffrey?”

The man confirmed that he was.

“And thou was interested in the positions of Transfiguration and Potions, was thou not?”

“I was indeed.”

“Well, thou has come a long way today, so thou is welcome to stay for the night.  Tomorrow we shall conduct an interview for the teaching positions to determine whether thee will be a match for our school.”

“I can demonstrate how adapt I am for the Transfiguration position now,” responded Geoffrey eagerly, “we need not wait for tomorrow.”

“That is truly not necessary, sir �“ ” Helga started to say, but her words went unheeded.

“There is no one better to teach Transfiguration, I assure you,” he stated with confidence, and within seconds, the man had become a cat, which looked up at them with yellow eyes and meowed loudly.

Salazar did not think he had ever seen a worse Animagus transfiguration.  The man had indeed become a cat, it was true �“ the entire anatomical structure was there, from the small body to the padded paws to the swishing tail �“ but he still possessed traces of his human self.  His human eyebrows were still there, positioned above his cat eyes.  Upon revealing the interior of his mouth in a yawn, rows of human teeth were shown, not the pointed ones of a normal cat.  Worst of all were the ears.  The ears of a typical cat sat on his head, but the man had not quite managed to get rid of his own ears either, and they stuck out in a very ridiculous fashion from the top of the skull, covered with fur but still retaining their human shape.

“This is a lovely demonstration of thy talent, sir,” said Helga, recovering herself faster than Salazar, “but I’m afraid that I am simply too tired to adequately interview thee tonight.  Please, go on inside and find Godric.  He shall be happy to escort thee to an available room.”

The cat’s form molded and grew back into the man, who picked up his trunk with a smile.  “My sincerest thanks.  Good night to you.”

“Farewell,” said Helga, and watched the man as he retreated towards the castle.  Salazar watched him too, his initial amusement over the man’s pathetic transfiguration fading as he comprehended what his arrival meant.

“Thou is hiring new teachers?” he questioned softly.

“Godric and I cannot run the school alone,” said Helga steadily, meeting his narrowed gaze.

“And whose chambers is that man to receive?  Mine, or Rowena’s?”

She seemed to try not to wince at his blunt, unfeeling tone.  “There is plenty of space at Hogwarts.  Thou will remember that Rowena was well-prepared for adding new teachers, and while constructing the school created many rooms that have yet to be used.”

“He is completely incompetent,” Salazar declared forthrightly in disgust.  “He cannot possibly be expected to pass on his knowledge to the young when he has no knowledge himself.”

Helga stared at him without flinching this time, her tone as flat and cold as a road frozen over as she returned, “There is no one better for the job.” 

He scowled over her head at a Hogwarts’ window.  “He is a pompous, witless imbecile whose greatest magical achievement is most likely being able to balance his wand upon his index finger, and if that is the sort of wizard thou believes capable enough to become a teacher �“ ”

“If thou is jealous that we have at last found someone to replace thee, why does thou not just say so?” Helga snapped.

“That is not what this is about,” Salazar retorted, beginning to seethe.

“Then what is it about, Salazar?”

“It is about my concern for how thou is going to have students leave this school knowing just as much as they did upon entering �“ nothing �“ and that will be thanks to the incompetence of thy teachers thee has hired �“ ”

“Thou has no right to �“ ”

But he never found out what precisely he had no right to, for it was then that someone within the castle began to shout, and Helga fell silent, her forehead creasing, as she turned around to face the school.  Another person began to yell too, and then there was a loud smack �“ Helga screamed as the source of the noise became evident �“ for an arm had just hit one of the castle windows from the inside.  The limb slid down slowly, silhouetted against the yellow light coming from within, the outline of the fingers splayed and dragging against the glass.

“Oh, God,” Helga murmured, and started running for the front doors, Salazar following after her.

They slammed through the front doors of Hogwarts and bolted into the Great Hall. 

Geoffrey’s was the hand that had been against the window, and his fingers were still sliding down the glass, making an awful screeching noise.  He was red in the face and breathing hard.  Godric stood some distance away, scowling heavily.

“What is going on?” Helga demanded; Salazar had to admire her ability to sound so commanding and firm when speaking to them, as he could hear her the pulse in her throat beating rapidly.

“Thy new teacher is quite theatrical,” Godric growled, talking to Helga but keeping his eyes fastened to Geoffrey.  “Perhaps he would be better suited to the stage than to teaching.”

“Perhaps thou would be better suited to wandering the streets, gathering alms with thy petty jokes,” Geoffrey threw right back.

Helga’s gaze flashed to Geoffrey, to Godric, then back to Geoffrey.  “I do not follow �“ ”

“Just get him out of here,” said Godric in the same dry, snarling tone.

Helga stared at him for a moment, then shook her head, perplexed.  “Well, there’s something the pair of you have in common,” she muttered, with a sideways flick of her eyes at Salazar.  “You cannot stand that man.”

Godric spared Salazar a brief glance, having just noticed him.  Salazar stiffened �“ last time he had seen Godric this evening, the man had told him quite specifically to leave the castle, which Salazar had not.  But to Salazar’s surprise, Godric’s attention was instantly back on Geoffrey.  He must have really loathed the new arrival. 

“He is not who he claims to be, Helga,” said Godric lowly.

“Who else would I be?” Geoffrey questioned angrily, taking his hand away from the window and gesturing to himself with it.

“Oh, do not waste thy breath on falsehoods,” Godric snapped, “thy Polyjuice Potion is wearing down.”

Sure enough, Geoffrey’s skin was beginning to bubble and remold; his bones shrank and his spine bent over; his hair turned wispy and white; his face went from plump to sunken and wrinkled, with an overbearing nose and small, watery eyes.

Helga made a noise of disgust.  It took a moment longer for Salazar to put an identity to the man.  This was Ethelred, known on the streets as Ethelred the Ever-Ready, well-recognized for being easily offended and cursing people for absolutely no reason.  That certainly accounted for Godric’s response to him; ever the just and righteous fellow, of course he would hate such a man. 

Ethelred gave them a pinguid smile.  “There’s no need for such reactions.  I have only come to see Rowena Ravenclaw, and then I shall be on my way again.”

“What does thou want to see her for?” Godric replied tersely.

“Unfinished business,” said Ethelred apathetically.

“Such as?” said Godric.

“Where is she at present?” Ethelred returned, delaying the answer to this inquiry.  “In the library, I presume?”

Godric and Helga shared a glance; it was clear that their visitor was not aware of Rowena’s death.

“She is not well,” said Helga in a careful, guarded manner, “but what did thou desire to meet with her for?”

“I simply had a few matters that I intended to discuss �“ matters that, pardon me, do not concern any of you.”

“She is dead,” said Salazar flatly.  Helga and Godric both looked at him, the former with caution, the latter with irritation.  Salazar did not know why they looked at him thus �“ really, what was to come of hiding the fact?

Ethelred’s eyes darkened for a second, then he bowed his head and moved for the doors.  “Well, then, I’ll just be on my way �“ ”

“Just a moment, please,” said Helga, “thou has still not answered our inquiries.  Thou says it is none of our business, but �“ do forgive me �“ the ties our Rowena has to thee is our business.  I always remain watchful of my family.”

“Very admirable of thee,” Ethelred sneered, not stopping his stride, “but I am still not obligated to detail my affairs to any of your creed �“ ”

“It’s a pity thy magical skill is not even a fraction as excellent as thy ability to divert subjects,” Godric said loudly, “otherwise you might be able to have a profession with it.”

Wasting not a moment to prove that he lived up to his nickname of ‘the Ever-Ready’, Ethelred wheeled around and drew his wand all in one fluid motion.  Godric, though, was faster �“ before the spell had even left Ethelred’s mouth, his wand was thrown from his grasp, and his back hit the ground, his wrists and ankles bound together with thick ropes.

“I have done nothing to you!” he cried out furiously as Helga, Godric, and Salazar moved in closer to hover above his form.

“No, nothing but attack our friend,” Godric struck back.

“I said nothing of attacking her �“ ”

“Why else would thou be here?” Helga wanted to know, tone cold.  “We know who you are, everyone in Scotland does �“ thou would come for no other reasons than ones with malicious intent.”

“I tell you again, I �“ ”

“If I might be so bold as to offer advice,” Salazar murmured, “thou would be better off if thou were to confess than to have the information extracted by force.  I have no preference. I can very easily employ Legilimency or brew a vial of Veritaserum �“ but my guess is that the former option would be much simpler for thee.”

Ethelred glared up at them all.  “When I get away from here . . .”

“‘When’ is a rather optimistic statement at this point,” Godric felt the need to point out.  “We shall see what thee have to say first.”

Ethelred waddled saliva in his mouth for a moment, as though contemplating spitting at them, but then he seemed to reconsider this notion, and swallowed.  “All right, all right!  I came here today to place a curse upon her.  Yesterday I heard that this Geoffrey man was appointed to come here today, so I put him unconscious, took some of his hair, and impersonated him.  Satisfied now?”

“No,” said Godric bluntly.  “Why did thou want to curse her?  What had she ever done to you?”

Ethelred snorted.  “Thou sounds so indignant!  How dare anyone suggest Rowena Ravenclaw ever inflicted anything bad upon others!  This might come as a surprise, Gryffindor, but your Rowena was no saint.”  He smirked at them, gloating, trying to bait them, but the remaining of the Hogwarts Four did not bite, and remained stoic.  When they gave him no reaction, he continued.

“It was just over a week ago when our paths crossed,” he said.  “I was sitting outside my home, watching over my animals, when she came running up the road to my little town.  She was breathless from racing so fast, but regardless, she wasted no time in asking me if I had seen a young woman who looked something like her within the past few months.”

Oh, Helena, thought Helga; Salazar did not normally like to use his Legilimency on his fellow Founders, but this thought rang so loud in her head that he could not help picking up upon it.

“I replied I had seen many young women in the past months, none of whom I remembered distinctly enough to answer her question adequately.  Still, she beseeched me to ransack my mind for if I had seen a woman fitting this description recently, and when I replied that I did not think so, her expression turned very shadowed. 

“I then inquired to know more about her search for this woman.  She became very cautious and sparse with her chatter.  All she told me was that she had been looking for months for this other female, visiting village after village to query peasants on if they had seen her. 

“I suggested that, well, if she had been searching for that long, it was obvious the other woman did not want to be found, and perhaps she should give up her investigation.  She flared up at once, snarling at me that she would not stop her search just because it was what a half-witted pig such as myself would have done.”

Salazar found himself hiding a smile as he imagined Rowena saying this, then felt ashamed: surely it was disrespectful to her, since she was now dead, to be mirthful about such a thing.

“Well, I was certainly not going to take that lying down, and was about to hex her, but she wasn’t finished, and went on to call me and my family every foul-mouthed name under the sun she could think of.”

“And thou simply let her do this?” Salazar could not help but interject.  “Thou could not stop a woman from stepping all over thee?”

“It wasn’t a one-sided exchange,” Ethelred muttered. “I put in as many insults as I could, but that woman just kept ranting at me.  Normally I would have hexed her, but I had figured out she was Rowena Ravenclaw by that point, and I was not at all eager to make her angrier �“ I had heard stories of the extent of her power, and I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.

“But at last I could bear it no more �“ my anger was past my control.  When she had finished ranting at me and turned to go, I cast upon her a long-lasting Stinging Hex, which would sting at her innards and slowly deteriorate them over an extended period of time.”

“I have never heard of such a hex,” Helga exhaled, looking stricken.

“Thou would not have, it was only perfected recently by a man in my village,” said Ethelred.  “But, there you have it.  After that, we parted, and I came here today because I wanted to see how the hex was working, as I have never seen its effects on a human, and it’s an intriguing spell, to have a consistent stinging pain that you cannot even reach �“ ”

“You bastard.” 

Salazar glanced to Godric, a bit surprised to see him wild-eyed and nearly spitting with rage at the trapped Ethelred �“ and then Godric lunged at the old man with his hands outstretched as though to physically attack him.

“Godric!” Helga exclaimed, and pressed her hands to his chest to stop him.  “This wizard might be a fool, but there is no reason to �“ ”

Godric’s eyes shifted from Ethelred to Helga, but they were still unfocused and crazed, darting back and forth between each of her pupils.  “He killed her, Helga!”

Helga shook her head.  “That doesn’t seem likely; thou knows as well as I do she was hurt because of Helena �“ ”

“Helena left months ago,” Godric snarled, “and this scalawag claims it was a little more than week ago he saw her �“ just before she fell ill.”

Helga continued to shake her head, but more out of an unwillingness to believe him, for her eyes were now flecked with doubt. 

Salazar, too, felt suspicion over Godric’s conclusions as he looked down at Ethelred �“ this man did, after all, have very low magical powers, and thus it seemed unlikely that he could have utilized such a slow-acting, powerful curse properly.  Then again . . . perhaps his poor magic talents had all been an act, just like his Polyjuice disguise.  Perhaps he did have the power to do such a thing.  And the timeline of it all did make sense . . . besides, hadn’t he been questioning how Rowena had died ever since he arrived here?  Hadn’t he been going over the facts over and over again in his mind, feeling as though he were missing an important piece of the situation the entire time?  This piece would certainly fit . . . would certainly add a bit more sense to her untimely death . . .

And a rage of blinding, all-consuming fury like he had never known, overtook him.  Not even during the worst of his fights with Godric had he felt such a madness �“ at the time, he had thought he could feel no more anger than that, but he had been wrong.  He had a sudden primal need, like that of a fox who has been starving for days and has just seen a piece of meat, to lurch, to attack, to strike out at his victim.  It was only Helga’s hand on his shoulder that stopped him from tearing at Ethelred right then and there (her physical strength did not match up to his, it was true, but she seemed to be gaining assistance from her magic).

“Oh, please,” said Ethelred, “you do not actually believe that I caused her death?  That woman was sick from the start �“ ”

“And thou did nothing to help that!” Godric yelled.

“We have nothing to �“ there is no way that we can �“ confirm any of this �“ ” Helga stammered.  Her eyes were full with tears of ire and grief, passion and hurt.  She wanted to convict this man of the crime just as much as the two wizards she was holding back, but as usual, could not put aside her notions of fairness and equality.

Though Salazar was still possessed by flames of the hottest wrath, he forced himself to speak in level tones.

“Helga,” he said quietly, “it does make sense.”

“For the final time,” said Ethelred loudly, “I did not commit murder with a Stinging Hex �“ ”

“Thou cast a spell that would ‘sting at her innards and slowly deteriorate them over time,’” Salazar hissed, echoing Ethelred’s previous words.  “What else would ‘deteriorate’ imply other than eventual murder?”

Ethelred glared up into his face.  “I can’t make you three happy, can I?  Very well, yes, I suppose I cast the hex with murderous intents.”

Godric whipped out his sword before Helga could stop him.  “Can I kill him now?”

“The grounds of Hogwarts should not be soiled like this, Rowena would not have wanted such bloodshed �“ ” Helga tried to reason, though her composure was slipping with every second, dissolving into despair rather than anger like Godric and Salazar.

“Then let there be no bloodshed,” said Salazar, struck with a sudden thought.  “Give him to me.  He’ll die without blood.  I shall imprison him in the castle and his remains will rot here.”

Ethelred began to thrash around on the floor, his ankles and wrists still tied together.  “Now just a moment, I’ve done nothing to warrant such �“ ”

“She isn’t the first person thou has killed,” said Helga softly to Ethelred.  “I know there have been others.”  She seemed to have finally come to agree with Salazar and Godric on the matter.

“Where would thou imprison him?” Godric questioned.  He met Salazar’s eyes, and, for the first time that Salazar could recall in a very long while, the anger in Godric’s gaze was not directed at him.

Salazar faltered fleetingly; they did not know about the Chamber of Secrets.  “That is to be my secret, I’m afraid.”  Godric’s eyes narrowed at this, but Salazar quickly said, “We all have them, Godric, thou cannot fault me.” 

Godric hesitated, then nodded, recognizing the truth to his words.  It had been secrets on both sides that had ended their relationship, and they both knew it.

“Do I have your approval as well, Helga?”

There was no hesitation in her gaze, no pause to her response.  “Yes.”

And so, the three Founders temporarily united, Salazar knocked Ethelred unconscious to stop his yammerings and protests, levitated him into the air, and walked away.  It was time to revisit his Chamber . . . and make a request of his basilisk.