This is a drabble written for the Facebook group: Slytherin Cabal's Drabble prompt.
Legal: I own nothing but the plot. I play in JK Rowling's sandbox.
In the library (Salazar/Rowena)
Surrounded by dim lamplight, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw sat huddled amongst ancient dusty tapestries and long-forgotten furniture, deep in the bowels of the Hogwarts library.
"Do you really think..."
"Helga, dear, we've been over this." Rowena was losing patience. "I don't just think, I know! He told me his concerns himself, not even two evenings ago."
"But what's his reasoning? How can he be so... so... COLDHEARTED!"
Helga's voice had raised significantly, and she was whipping her arms around in dismay and alarm. Her right hand connected with something solid, sending a pile of books tumbling to the floor with a racket and plume of dust where they fell.
"Shhhhh... Helga! Circe almighty. Why'd we even come back here if you're going to throw discretion to the wind?"
Helga reddened, Rowena's frustrated chastisement stinging like a leather strap upon her wrist.
"Darling, what are you doing amongst the dust and dreary offerings of forgotten tapestries and furnishings? Surely that book I asked you to retrieve for Godric isn't to be found in here."
The two women spun around as the owner of the silky baritone voice stepped out of the shadows, flanked by another.
"Good evening Helga. My darling." He nodded to the women in turn.
"Salazar, good evening." Rowena nodded, her cheek raising to accept the light brush of his lips as he bestowed a kiss upon it. "As it happens, it was."
She placed the offending book in his waiting hand, glad to be rid of its vibrating repugnance. Turning to the other man, she took in his aura of sophistication, his austere exterior.
"Godric, you've returned. How was your... trip?" She asked with pointed politeness.
The second man shrewdly appraised her, and, not for the first time, Rowena was left feeling slightly diminished, inferior under Gryffindor's gaze.
"I think a proper meeting of the Founders is in order." He said with an air of haughty authority.
"Come, let us assemble in the great hall's antechamber. There is much to discuss."
He plucked the book from Salazar's grasp and turned, striding out of the dingy library alcove without a second glance.
Helga, shooting disturbed looks between his retreating figure and Rowena, said a quick "Sorry'" before spinning round and scurrying after him.
"Did he find what he was searching for?" Rowena asked softly once alone, her hand cupping Salazar's chiseled jaw.
Only her touch had the ability to soften that which was carved out of marble.
His onyx eyes melted slightly to glittering charcoal as he glanced down at his beloved.
"Thank Merlin no. He wasn't successful... this time. I'm... I'm tying to protect us, my darling, but I don't know how long I'll be able to obscure his path."
She sighed, and burrowed her face into his chest. His arms trapped her against him, their steel warmth enveloping her.
"Helga will be a problem."
He gave a sigh, his arms tightening infinitesimally around her.
"Let's go see what Godric wishes to discuss... what he wants with that blasted tome -brilliant thinking on your part by the way, stashing it back here - and we'll plan our next course of action accordingly. She may prove to be useful yet."