1

Her legs carried her, quietly and calmly through the woods toward the castle, the building looked dark and foreboding, but she needed to get somewhere there were people, somewhere there was shelter and nourishment. What she met was nothing like what she'd expected though. The castle wasn't what she'd been looking for, but when she saw it, she knew she could find people there. However, with a castle, she'd have expected more people than she met. Many, many more.

Oh but what did it matter? There was food and a roof and company, even if it was for just a short while. It had to be a short while, in case she ended up hurting someone else... No, she couldn't afford that.

The rain had been falling for some ten minutes when she approached the great door, and knocked loudly. After a few moments, a plump, blonde girl, probably no older than herself, answered the door and invited her hastily inside, running to grab a blanket to throw around the new comer's shoulders, saying things like "You come in, sit by the fire. You'll catch your death out there."

She was ushered into a large room with a bright, crackling fireplace and a few cushioned chairs around it, and was practically pushed into one by the blonde woman. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the change in light, but when they did, she saw the man sitting in the opposite chair, looking right at her, an open book resting in his lap. He was lean with a slight tan to his skin. His left ankle was placed on his right knee, in a relaxed manner. His long, untamed hair was black as ebony and his jaw sharp. There was an air about him that showed power of some sort, and content, but it was his eyes that caught her the most. They were piercing, and deep, like pools of endless hazel light, that casually sized her up. Those eyes looked her up from foot to face, eventually locking with hers.

Shivering, she swallowed and forced herself to look at the fire, hoping that he couldn't see what she hid inside every day. If he saw it, she'd have even less time to spend here.

The heat from the fire was nice, comforting, just the thing she needed for the moment. Of course, she couldn't get too comfortable; she would have to leave it all too soon, so she couldn't grow to love it just to tear it away from herself. She sighed heavily and let her head fall back, eyes closed.

"Here you go, dear, I've brought you a cup of tea to chase out the chill." It was the blonde woman's voice, "I didn't know whether you liked cream or honey in your tea, so I didn't put in either, I hope that's alright."

She nodded, lifting her head and looking for the cup of tea, "Yes, thank you." Her voice was soft and sincere as she took the teacup from the coffee table in front of her and sipped gratefully.

"Dear, you're still shivering, I'll bring another blanket." And the woman was off again.

When the clicking of the blonde woman's shoes could no longer be heard, the man across from her spoke, his voice was not throaty, or deep, but low and smooth, almost seductive, "Don't mind Helga, she gets like that – very motherly and over protective, even over a complete stranger." He uncrossed his legs and set down his book, "Didn't think to bring me a cup of tea though." A small chuckle came from him and he settled down into his chair, letting himself slouch a bit, "I'm Salazar, by the way. Please, spare me the cracks about it being a Spanish last name. I've heard it a hundred times over."

"Rowena." She said in response, taking another cautious sip of her tea. Silence. Rowena sat up a little bit to try to read the title of the book Salazar had been reading. 'The Encyclopaedia of One Thousand Magical Creatures' it read, 'What is he doing reading about magical creatures? Is he a wizard? And if he is what about the blonde girl... Helga, that's what he called her. Is she a witch then, too?'

"It's a very interesting book actually." Salazar broke the silence that was between them, he'd noticed her reading the cover. "Everything from basilisks to pixies. It's very informative. I could tell you where you might find a Norwegian Ridge Back dragon from reading this book." He smirked, making her break a smile as well.

"I'm just guessing, but... Norway? Perhaps?" They laughed quietly together and Salazar pulled out his wand from behind him.

"Accio teacup and pot." He said, flicking the wand, and not two minutes later there came a tea pot and teacup through the air, gracefully into the room to settle on the table. At that moment, Helga came back into the room with a blanket.

"Salazar! What are you doing? Put that thing away!"

"Relax Hel; she's not a crazy witch killer. She didn't jump up and stab me when I mentioned basilisks. See how I risked my life for us? Aren't you proud of me? Godders usually does that kind of thing." Helga sighed and shaking her head laid the second blanket on Rowena. "Don't mind him, he gets like that – sarcastic and all." Salazar smirked and rolled his eyes, then poured himself a cup of tea. "I'm Helga, Helga Hufflepuff. Godric should be down in a while, he was writing a letter, and he said he's going to finish it before he comes down – even though he can't owl it until the rain stops. What did you say your name was, dear?"

"I'm Rowena."

"Well, Rowena, I hope you're feeling warmer, and dryer. What brings you out this way? Are you lost or something? Because there's a village close by –"

"Hey, Helga, why don't you try not to smother her with your chatter, and let her answer your questions?"

Helga huffed and sneered at Salazar, but it made Rowena feel a little more comfortable. "I just happened upon this place. I'm not lost; really, just don't have anywhere to go." Her voice was no louder than it had been before, and she kept shifting her eyes from the floor, to her tea, to the fire, to her tea... She sipped again, slightly leery of talking about herself, in case they asked further questions. Lucky for her they didn't. It seemed that Salazar had stolen Helga's thunder. But it was alright, as someone else arrived to pick up the conversation.

"Oh Godric, did you finish that letter to your mother already?" Helga piped. Salazar snickered at this Godric, for writing to his mother probably. Helga shot him a glance, and then turned back to Godric, who nodded. "Oh good, this is Miss Rowena, Godric. Godric Gryffindor, Miss Rowena."

"How nice to meet you all." She said, truthfully.

Godric and Helga sat in two chairs side by side, she could feel the fondness they had for one another, and clearly saw the body language that suggested she was right in her feeling. She leaned toward him in her chair, and he had his hand on hers, it was quite a sight to behold, such affection in their eyes.

"A-hem, anyway, Miss Rowena, you are quite welcome to stay here as long as you like, as far as I'm concerned. That shouldn't be a problem, right Godric? Your uncle isn't coming to reclaim the place anytime soon, is he?" Helga turned her head to look at Godric for the last questions.

"Certainly not." He said in a strong, deep, confident voice, smiling at her. Rowena looked away from them, it hurt too much to see that... that love.

The fire crackled and popped as she stared at the logs burning bright red on the inside, with yellow and orange flames that cast a homey glow on everything around. She sighed. This would be another hard move when the time came.

"Miss Rowena – have you a last name that I may address you by? I hardly know you, and feel that respect is demanded of me for a woman." Salazar coughed, choking on his tea in a suppressed laugh.

She ignored the snort, and replied to Godric's question, "Ravenclaw."

"Alright, Miss Ravenclaw, how long would you like to be staying?"

"Oh, not long, don't want to be a nuissance, underfoot all the time."

"Nonsense!" Helga tut-tutted, "You won't be a nuissance at all, and, I don't know if you've noticed, but," She raised her arms, guesturing around the room, "this is a castle. It's rather difficult to be 'under-foot' here."

"Well, technically speaking..." Salazar said, reaching for his book.

Helga rolled her eyes, "Yes, technically you're always under-foot." She turned and addressed Rowena, "Salazar basically lives in the dungeons. Occassionally, he'll crawl out and provide us with some extra company."

"Hey! I come up on an almost daily basis, just because you're always upstairs in the towers and don't see me doesn't mean I never come up." He laughed and opened his book again, sipping his tea.

"Fine. But, Miss Rowena, do you need anything in particular? It doesn't seem you have much. Oh, I'm not trying to be rude." She added quickly. "I simply noticed you didn't have a bag or, well, anything really – just the clothes on your back. I would be absolutely tickled to take you into town tomorrow once the rain stops. Shopping is something I usually have to do alone – being the only woman in this castle. But now, with you –"

"I'm sorry, did you say only woman? I don't mean to be rude, but... you are the only woman in this entire castle? You must be pulling my chain. How could one woman live in a castle full of men?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Salazar asked lightly. "Got something against men have you?"

"Miss Ravenclaw," Godric said, a tad hesitantly, "Master Slytherin and I are the only men in this castle."

"You don't have to call me, Master. Even if I am your superior."

Now Godric joined Helga in rolling their eyes, "It's just the three of us living here, dear." Helga said.

"Oh..." Rowena sipped her tea some more and quieted down.

"Well dear, I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay here, but I'm thinking we should get off to bed, it is late. I'll show you to a room. We can talk about shopping tomorrow. You obviously need some sleep." Helga got up, took Rowena's teacup and saucer, and led her out of the room.

"So what do you think of her?" Salazar asked Godric without raising his eyes from his book.

"Well, she seems kind. A bit shy. Helga will be happy to have another woman around."

"Hmm."

"What about you?"

"I think she's hiding something, but she means well. And she's very pretty."

Godric laughed and got up, patted his friend on the shoulder, and walked out of the room, leaving Salazar alone with his book in the firelight.