Secrets and Storms

Within the constellation of Orion, one might observe that the stars are—

Rowena closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had read the same sentence several times now, yet could not recall exactly what it was trying to tell her. Her mind had wandered elsewhere, the wind outside the tower blowing away her thoughts on astronomy and to the whispered secrets of the castle's occupants.

Minutes before, she had chastised Helena for sneaking around the castle after dark. Her daughter had been ducking through the shadows, hiding from the flickering light of torches that lined the stone walls. Helena's eyes had been slightly unfocused, the sheer nightgown she wore illuminating her fair skin. When Rowena had called her name, the girl had jumped and turned around with a glower. Though Helena had profusely denied that she wasn't doing anything but looking for a drink of water, Rowena had the firm suspicion that the girl was seeking the company of a certain former student of Slytherin house.

Taking a deep breath, Rowena reopened her eyes and tried to focus on the leather-bound book sitting upon her lap. Her blue eyes skimmed the page, the letters seeming to blur together as she read. Within the constellation of Orion, one might observe that the stars are of diff— Helena wasn't the only one with a secret, either. Rowena knew Salazar was working on some project of his—a secret room of sorts, if she had guessed correctly. She would often watch him leaving meals abruptly and head off, mumbling to himself about chambers and passwords. Godric would often follow him after gulping down his meal, running off towards the school grounds, a mischievous smile on his face. Yes, everybody seemed to have a secret.

Shaking her head and tapping her foot, Rowena glared at the words on the page. Within the constellation of Orion, one might observe— Rowena slammed the book shut and placed it at her feet. Outside, the wind began howling—the first sign that a storm was brewing. Why couldn't she concentrate? Reading was second nature to her, and focusing on knowledge was her pride; so why was tonight different? Why was she so obsessed with trivial matters?

Standing, she smoothed down her robes and stretched out her arms. Perhaps a walk was in order, if not to clear her mind then to calm her beating heart. Clutching her cloak around her, despite the unseasonably warm air, she exited her sanctuary and headed further into the depths of the castle. Dancing candlelight lit her path, giving her something to centre her attention on, rather than listening to the way the wind began to howl and batter against the windows as she walked past. As she made her way along the fourth floor, the sky opened up, and rain lashed at the windows. It rattled the fragile glass in the windows, like the hands of a ghoul, trying to claw their way inside.

Rowena shook her head again. She was being silly; though ghosts and creatures of their kind were known to exist, Godric had assured her that they could not enter the castle walls, lest they be forced to pass on to the afterlife for good. She had been curious about ghosts at one stage, wanting to know more about their past and the secrets they knew. The horrific tales Godric and his men told, however, soon made them seem only ghastly, and she had changed her mind. At least then she had known not to worry about someone else's secret and wasn't this antsy.

The sky chose that moment to light up, giving only a moment's notice before a deep rumble shook the castle. Rowena's heart pounded against her chest, and she wrapped her cloak as tight around her as it would go. Quickening her pace, she ascended the nearest staircase, allowing it to take her up another level. Ordinarily, she would have preferred to retreat to the lower levels, confident in her knowledge that ground provided more safety during a storm. With the crashing sounds and howling winds echoing around her, however, she was content to simply find a room where she could wait it out, whether in solitude or with company.

At these very thoughts, the wall to Rowena's right began to shimmer and shake. Stopping in her tracks, she watched as the stones began to shift, toppling back on each side to reveal a large, wooden door. All thoughts of secrets and ghosts disappeared from her mind as she eyed it, trying to come up with a logical explanation as to why it was there. Was there a room behind it? Rowena had been deeply invested in the castle's design, and certainly did not approve of a door appearing out of nowhere. She had never seen it before; what was the point of having a room that no one could see? The idea of moving staircases, dungeons under a Black Lake and Salazar's need for passwords on the common room entries was ludicrous, and definitely more than enough of a feature to make the castle special. She didn't recall any of her friends mentioning anything about secret rooms either, for that matter. Unless…

Peering at the door, Rowena's eyes sparkled with curiosity. Could this be the room Salazar had been so hush-hush about? It would make sense, hidden away in a corridor far from his beloved dungeons. What was within? Magical objects from far away? Mounds of gold he wasn't able to keep in his room? Books he didn't want his students to read?

Rowena wavered on the spot, wanting to open the door and peep inside. Her hands shook in anticipation, heart beating abnormally fast. No, she couldn't. Salazar was a very private man, and she respected that. Though he would never lay a finger on her, she couldn't see him easily forgiving her for stealing away into his room. Outside, however, lightning crackled through the sky, raising the dark hair on the back of Rowena's neck. Without a second thought on the matter of crossing boundaries, she opened the door and stepped through.

She was right in the fact that there was a room behind the door. Every other articulated guess, however, was off. Her eyes scanned the bare stone walls, noting that no paintings hung on them, nor were any brackets fastened to them to hold candles.

A gasp escaped her full lips as, just as she thought this, the room lit up without the aid of the storm outside. Adjusting to the sudden brightness, she saw that a million candles had appeared, floating around the high ceiling like stars in the night sky. It made her wish that the ceilings in other parts of the castle would appear that way; straight away, the air shimmered, and Rowena found herself standing in the Great Hall. Four wooden tables were lined up in front of a longer table, candles floating above shiny plates and goblets. Freshly sewn banners hung from the walls, and the wooden beams of the ceiling had been opened up to reveal the sky. No, this wasn't the Great Hall; this was only a mirage.

Backing away, Rowena felt her legs and arms begin to tremble. She was torn between wanting to discover why the room appeared this way, and running from it, the unnaturalness of it all looming down on her and making it hard to breathe.

Why had Salazar created this? Did he not have all he needed? Did he create it to trick people, to have their minds spin and become distracted beyond the point of leaving? No, he wasn't that evil. Why was she so prone to jumping to these conclusions? She needed to sit down.

Yet again, she jumped as the room seemed to read her mind. A comfortable, navy chair appeared in midair, gently falling to the ground before her. When she didn't immediately sit in it, the chair moved forward on its legs, nudging her behind the knees.

Rowena stepped away from it, unsettled by the way it followed her around. The door appeared to be further away now than she remembered it being, its distance from her increasing as she took each hastened step towards it. With her mind whirring and the air getting thinner, she had little choice but to give up and sink into the persistent chair. At once, the chair stiffened, rooting itself to the spot when she complied with its wishes.

Rowena placed her head into her hands, unable to help the slouching of her shoulders. She was a witch, for Godric's sake, why was acting like a frightened student? Why could she not be excited to discover which branches Salazar had used? He was a master at Transfiguration, should she not study how he had made the chair come to life like it had? What had happened to the trusting, calm Rowena, who was like a welcoming, gentle breeze in the summer?

Sighing, she wished she could settle her shakes and steady her rapidly beating heart. Better yet, she wished she had remembered to pick up the book she had been reading, and get back to studying the most common winter constellation, Orion. Oddly enough, the room seemed to provide more silence from the thrashing storm outside than her tower would.

This time, it wasn't as surprising when a 'pop' sounded over the rumbling outside, and a copy of the Constellations of the North fell into her lap. Lifting her head out of her hands to look at it, she marvelled at how much better shape this book was in, her finger trailing over the edge of the crisp parchment carefully bound in red leather. Of course Salazar would include the finer details in the workings of his room.

Carefully opening it, she was happy to find that the contents were in Latin, rather than the French of her own worn copy. Flipping through the pages, she noted that, although the chapters were in order of constellation closeness to earth, they were also conveniently sorted by season. It was thus easy for her to locate the chapter she was on, and immersed herself in the reading of it once more. Within the constellation of Orion, one might observe that the stars are of different colour. It has taken many a scholar to marvel at why these differences occur, wondering if another race of Witches and Wizards—

"Mother? What are you doing in here?"

Rowena's heart had finally settled when a voice interrupted her, spurring it on once more. Turning to the source, she saw her daughter standing at the door, eyes stormy.

"Helena? What are you doing up at this hour?" she asked, standing up.

"I was coming to see who had entered my room."

"Don't talk to me in that tone," Rowena immediately reprimanded, before clearing her throat. Her voice was much too harsh lately, especially when she spoke to Helena. "What do you mean, 'your room'? You created this place?"

Helena strolled forward, looking around the room as though checking nothing had been disturbed. Behind her, lightning illuminated the hall, the rain pelting against the outside windows. The girl eyed the chair Rowena had been sitting on, then turned her eyes towards the stars. For a moment, her face softened and she appeared like a child of no more than five, lost in the wonder of the stars. Then, just as quickly, the look disappeared, and her eyes flashed.

"Don't be so shocked. How did you get in here? No one was supposed to know this existed," Helena demanded.

Rowena bit her tongue; she would not argue with Helena, not twice in one night. She didn't exactly approve of her disobedience, yet she couldn't help but admire her daughter's creativity. Carefully thinking, she decided she would simply address the question with honesty, rather than chastise Helena for being rude or praising her for her illicit work.

"I happened upon the room when I went for a stroll."

"Ha! I doubt that very much! You were spying on me again, weren't you? Merlin, can I not have any secrets of my own? Can I not have a place to think, without you following me around? Now I'm going to have to rework the entry to this place, lest another person 'happen upon the room'."

Helena's chest rose and fell, hands clenched in balls by her side. In any other situation, Rowena would have had cause to blame the Baron for his hand in this, knowing the ex-student had just as fiery a temper as his mentor, Salazar. However, if what Helena said was true, then she had been wrong, and her secret late-night wanderings had nothing to do with the man.

Fixing her daughter with a level stare, her limbs shaking once more, she said, "I do not appreciate what you are saying, Helena. You know very well that I only intend to do what's best for you—"

"Oh, do not lie, Mother. For months you have been stalking the halls, trying to prey information from everyone. Do you not wonder why Uncle Godric runs off to the forest? It isn't to go hunting."

"Helena—"

"Forget it! I will only return when you respect my privacy." Spinning on her heel, face red, Helena stormed out of the room.

The storm only served to add to the drama, lightning and rain crashing down with a deafening capacity. Rowena sighed, slumping back into the chair behind her. Why was Helena always so quick to fight? She had never been that way with her own parents, though of course they had never given her cause to be. Helena was right, of course. She had been too preoccupied with the affairs of others. In the morning, she would apologise to Godric, and see to calming Helena down.

Picking up the book once more, she tried again to steady her breathing and indulge in its miraculous content. The wind howled, the lightning struck, and the wind continued to pelt against the windows outside the room. Her heart matched its fierceness, a nagging feeling made her mind whir and her limbs shook like the trees outside, but Rowena ignored it all.

A/N: Inspired by Cara's headcanon for Rowena Ravenclaw as an astronomer (seen in 'Have You Ever Danced with the Devil in the Pale Moonlight?', Round 3). A huge thank you to Ari for beta'ing :)

This fic was written during the Falcon's BYE round (R4) on the QLFC as a practice round. This round was slightly similar to one from round 3, in which we were assigned an emotion and had to incorporate a season/ weather into it without actually using the emotion's word. As Beater 1, I was assigned the emotion 'anxiety' and picked the weather theme 'storm.' Although I do not what anxiety feels like, I struggle as a writer to explore emotions, so hopefully this is an improvement from last season's 'anger' display. I also suck at writing during the Medieval times; though I've tried to study it, I cannot simply put the words into context, so apologies for that. Perhaps one day I might be able to.

My additional prompts for this round were:

(word) within

(word) solitude

(object) book

This fic was also written for several challenges on the Diagon Alley II forum. These include:

The Fairy Tales Challenge: Goldilocks and the Three Bears - Write about curiosity.

Writing Game: Bingo!: Prompt 4: Rowena Ravenclaw

Challenge Your Versatility: Era prompt 3: Founders

Word count: 2374 words