Musing of a Serpent
The small study was well furnished, well warmed, and well lit. The stone fireplace was filled with licking orange flames which crackled a warming counterpoint to the bitter wind howling outside. Tapestries of varying shades of green and glittering silver hung from the walls keeping the warmth in. There was a small bed near the writing desk, for times when work went well into the night. Several candles burned around the room; three on the desk, one on the end table next to the bed and two on the bookshelf.
The man who occupied the room sat at the writing desk, a small book open upon it. The book, of course, could be read only by him. Any others who should try would end up with a splitting headache at the least. The emerald clad man dipped his eagle feather quill in the ink pot and set his thoughts to paper.
I am leaving the school.
It looked so strange there in writing. So final, so committed, so… sad.
He wasn't normally in the habit of keeping a journal. It was too risky to leave a record of one's thoughts. Such a thing could too easily be turned against the one so foolish as to do so, even with magical protections. And yet he felt as though after all that had happened, after all he had done to prepare, he needed a way to organize his thoughts. The countless nights spent staring at the darkened ceiling of his bed chambers, agonizing over these events, had had no beneficial results.
Despite my warnings, despite my arguments, Godric insists on taking non pure students. I cannot understand this decision. The muggles are dangerous and untrusting of that which they do not understand. Ignorant fools. But even ignorant fools are dangerous in large numbers; and there are many more muggles than wizards. When Godric accepts muggle born, he will further expose our world and this school, to the muggle folk. They will descend upon us with torches and pitch forks, howling for our blood like mindless animals. And yet Godric cannot understand this. Rowena partially supports my position. She has a critical mind and sees that I am not wrong, though she does not believe that I am right.
But then, she didn't know. None of them did for he had never told. Of how as a child he had been able to make things happen. Could tell what others were thinking. Could talk to snakes. And it was this last, this gift of being able to converse with serpents that had sealed his fate with the people of the village in which he had been born. They had said he was possessed. Then they had said that he was himself a demon. The stake had been set and the fire started before he had been able to make his escape.
I have created a secret chamber within the castle. Within this chamber I have worked some of my greatest magics. I have nursed a basilisk. Some would call the King of Serpents a monster. I suppose that is one of my weaknesses. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for the more dangerous and persecuted of beasts. They are driven and tenacious despite adversity. Much like me.
He paused and ran a hand over his closely trimmed beard. Then he reached for the mug of cider and lifted it to his lips. It was cold. With a word he warmed the drink and sipped, allowing the fluid to warm his body.
The basilisk is young yet, but when it is ready, it will be the greatest protector of this school. The howling masses that Godric will bring down upon the school with his misguided open-mindedness will be unable to stand against my serpent. I have worked too hard to get where I am. I have worked too hard on this school to allow it to be tumbled to its foundations without a fight.
My talent with beasts and ability with Parseltongue has insured my complete control over the basilisk. The spells I have set will make certain that only one of my bloodline will have this same ability to control the basilisk, will have the power to defend the school when those who fear us rise up against this place. But I cannot stay at the school. I must entrust its safety to my heir.
He blinked back a tear. The first and only he had allowed himself since he was a ten year old boy and his village had decided to burn him for a devil. It was Godric who had found him. Tired and hungry and dirty. Who had taken him home to his family's house and who had discovered the wonders of magic with him. They had studied together and eventually, with assistance of the two other greatest wizards in the world, established this school.
And now he was leaving.
Helga, Rowena, Godric… They are my friends and I will miss them.
He set down the quill, waited a moment for the ink to dry and closed the book. A tap of his wand and the book sealed itself.
Tomorrow… he would leave tomorrow for he could no longer stay at the school. He simply could not.