Author's rant: The light in which I view the "noble" Godric Hryffindor differs a little from how the majority of the fandom views him. I could make any number of excuses for his behavior in the following one shot but the main reason for him doing what he did was plain and simple - greed.
And seeing as this original one shot was expanded into what I now proudly call my "Founder's Four" series, it's just as well we don't give Godric the benefit of the doubt from the start as his behavior will only worsen from here onwards. I apologize if my view of the founder's dynamics upsets anyone and welcome all questions as to how I started seeing Godric (and the others) the way that I do. Who knows, I might even have canon evidence to back up some of the events happening here.
Another thing worth mentioning, I do not own any recognizable characters (for they belong to the illustrious Mrs. Rowling) but am a little proud to be among the first to introduce this side of the Founders to the general public (this was first written in 208).
HISTORY'S BEST KEPT SECRET.
By MissyQuill
The room was dark and musty. Shadows covered its entire contents, thickly; much like a spider's web covers places uncared for. At first glance the room might appear empty, but to the keen observer, a glint of red moving among the utter darkness would not go unnoticed.
The flicker of light came from a candle stub, a tiny symbol of defiance to the surrounding darkness. What it gave off couldn't be justly called light, but it did manage to glint upon the man's red mane.
Had the conditions and settings been lighter, the man would have appeared a handsome youth with finely chiseled features and a determined pair of eyes. As it was, his face was now sunken into shadows, almost as if the darkness was trying to cloak his sins.
All was quiet as the man continued pacing, wondering about what was to come, what was expected but could never be accepted.
And then, disturbance pierced the air sharply in the form of a knock on the room's only wooden door. The sound, though soft, seemed much louder to the wizard, who hurried to answer it.
He opened the door only a crack and whispered almost inaudibly, "Who goes there?"
The answer came, just as he knew it would, yet he felt relief wash over him when he heard it nonetheless.
"I am Ormus Selwyn. You, Godric Gryffindor, bade me be here at this time today. Also upon your request, I escort with me Ragnuk the Great Goblin."
The wizard moved to open the door wider and let the visitor and the goblin in.
Once his guests were inside, the host hurriedly shut the door, and his eyes flew to the goblin. They searched him as best they could under the circumstances and, not surprisingly, did not find what they sought.
The goblin on his part was observing the wizard too, but its eyes did not mirror the anxiety and impatience like the wizard's. They just seemed to be enjoying the man's frustration. After a while, the goblin spoke.
"You need not worry, Gryffindor, I have it with me. But surely your arrogance does not think me stupid enough to carry it around on my belt to display to friend and foe alike?" it said in a coarse, inhuman voice.
The wizard was shocked into speech by the goblin's tone and gave an equally smarting reply. "What are you waiting for then, Ragnuk? I trust Selwyn has settled the matter of your payment. Doesn't that make the sword justly mine?"
The goblin was deeply offended by this and said, "The sword will never truly be yours. I consider it but borrowed, and as you yourself have promised, you will return it when you no longer have need of it, will you not?" The goblin voice grew softer and more threatening as it continued. "Even the bold and fearless, Godric Gryffindor, will not seek a misunderstanding with our kind."
"Of course not," replied the wizard, only a slight tremor in his voice betraying his true intentions. However, the Goblin must have taken it as intimidation, for it untied a small pouch from around its waist and proceeded to pull a long silver, ruby-hilted sword out of it. Then, taking an unnecessary long amount of time, he presented the sword to the wizard.
The wizard's eyes roamed all over the treasure handed to him. He took in the fine craftsmanship, the strength of the blade and the valuable gems on the hilt, daubed not unlike the colour of his hair. His face slowly relaxed into a smile.
But the next moment, the smile was gone to be replaced with what the optimistic would argue was confusion while the practical would swear it was rage. The wizard's eyes had found a blemish on his prized possession.
"What is this?" he asked, his jaws clenched, pointing towards the hilt where "Ragnuk the First" was carved in neat and curly script.
"Just a reminder of who the sword's real master is," replied the goblin. It obviously gave him deep satisfaction to anger the wizard.
The wizard indeed seemed as though he'd have liked nothing better at the moment than to pummel the goblin to the ground, but he restrained himself, albeit with great difficulty. Instead he only said, "You may leave now."
The goblin reluctantly made its way back to the door from which it had entered and, just before exiting the door, whispered menacingly, "You dare not betray me, wizard, for if you do, may the curse of the goblins be upon you. May someone you trust more than yourself betray you as cruelly as you would me." And with that he was gone.
Once the door was shut, the redhead addressed his other visitor for the first time.
"You know what to do, Selwyn. The goblin must never see the light of day again," he commanded.
Selwyn bowed in understanding and thereafter hurried from the room to carry out his orders.
The door closed, the room once again plunged into darkness as the little candle stub now settled to glint upon the rubies, watching the wizard taking out his wand and getting to work in the near darkness. No one saw the wizard changing the name on the sword, all his sins once again cloaked by darkness.