A/N: The evil plotbunny strikes again.
Disclaimer: I don't own this. Duh.
A thousand years ago in the sunny fields of Scotland an allegiance was born.
It was at a time when wiches and wizards were being persecuted for practising their magic. You see, back then we magical folk revealed our self to muggles, showed them our magic, impressed them with our power. And then it changed. The became afraid. Afraid of what we would do to them, frightened we would torture or kill them if the did wrong. So, the began to plot against us, planned to burn every witch and wizard in the land at the stake. Being a magical being was very dangerous one thousand years ago, and we slowly began to hide our power, and didn't use it in the public eye. But we found out of their desire to purge us from the Earth, to cleanse the land of "that different breed of dirty freaks."
We were scared. Scared for our life, scared for our family, scared for ourselves. Muggles may be narrow-minded and ignorant, but they existed in great numbers, and could sneak up on us in the darkness. We wanted, needed, poweful wizards, not just powerful, legendary, who would create a place of solace to protect us from our enemies and educate the young whose parents had fought and lost.
First came Godric Gryffindor.
Little Godric was raised in Scotland.
He had fiery red hair and eyes as clear blue as the sky. He attended
a magic school that had long succumbed to history, it's name lost to
the world, but it must have been a good school, for he was famous all
over the country for his skills. But the one thing that set him apart
from his gifted peers was that he was braver than them all. When he
was thirteen year old, he captured a rattlesnake with is bare hands.
When he turned fifteen, he raced a bull down the countryside. But his
true test of bravery came at age nineteen when his niece was drowning
in The Lake. It may not seem like such a wonderful thing to do, swim
across a lake to get her, but this was not any lake. It was The Lake,
and every sea creature known to man in that day lived there, from
Grindylows to Kelpies. There was a myth that some other brave soul
had once swam across The Lake, but the myth went on to say he was
captured by a Kelpie and devoured by gulping plimpies. It may not
have been true, but it was enough to stop everyone from swimming
there.
But Godric's little niece was young and malnourished in
education, so she decided to dip her feet into the cool water one hot
July day. It is a fact that a grindylow grabbed her by the foot and
dragged her underwater, but she managed to break it's fingers off and
resurface, but could not swim, so her head almost fell below the
water forever. Godric was on the other side of the lake, an even
though he was brave he was not stupid; he knew that running around to
the other side of The Lake to retrieve her would prove useless- The
Lake was large and round. So, he did the only thing he could do, and
jumped into the water and began to swim. Several children were
outside playing when it happened, and when Godric dove into The Lake,
they stared, wide-eyed, and then ran to get their mothers and
fathers. And mothers in long skirts and fathers with open mouths
rushed behind their children and watched as a faraway form splashed
through shining blue water. To this day no one is sure what beasts
tried to attack him, but if any did, he fought them off. By the time
he had scooped up his niece and exited The Lake, a crowd had formed
on the other side of the lake. And not one person there that day had
any trouble answering when they were asked who was the bravest of
them all:
"Godric Gryffindor!"
Second came Salazar Slytherin.
Salazar was raised in Austria. He had
dark, inky black hair and eyes like polished emeralds. From a young
age he had a penchant for business and raising money. If you were to
stroll around his small neighborhood you would most likely find him
sitting behind a crude wooden box, selling anything of value he could
get his hands on. He sold flowers, mostly, and years later people
would say how ironic, a sulky, brooding child like that selling
flowers. But even though he was teased for it, he was bright enough
to know that women who lived near by loved to wear fancy hats adorned
with all sorts of things. So every day he made his way to the top of
the highest hills for miles around, where the most beautiful
wildflowers grew. He picked only the best, most colourful flowers
from the bunch. He would return home and weave the ends together over
and over, flowers upon flowers, until you couldn't see any stems at
all, just a string of lilac and gold and blood red petals. He would
display them on his rickety box, and the rich women would come and
pick their favourites and delicately lay them across their expensive
hats, and pay him one pound per string of flowers. Half the money
went to his parents, and he kept the rest for himself. He dreamed of
one day becoming a traveling merchant, selling and trading beautiful
things all over Austria. Then, one day, a real merchant came to town.
His name is lost in history, and all we know now is that he wore
brown leather sandals and held a mule by some reigns as he walked
into town. And Salazer wanted that mule for his father, who ran a
farm, and whose horses had not been breeding lately. Salazar
bargained with the merchant; offering him flowers, only the best. No,
was his answer. I'll give you wonderful foods, Salazer told him. No,
was the answer. On and on it went, for many an hour, and by that time
a crowd had formed to watch him, to see if he could bargain that
merchant out of his mule. You see, this merchant had a wife, and a
baby, and needed something to soothe his child when he was in agony
from his teeth coming through his soft, fleshy gums. And so Salazar,
knowing this, made the trade, and left the scene with a mule for his
father and the respect of everyone there.
Salazar traded a bag of
ice for that mule.
And later, when people who watched that day
were asked who was the most ambitious of them all, not one person had
any trouble answering:
"Salazar Slytherin!"
Third came Helga Hufflepuff.
Helga was raised in
Ireland. She had hair the colour of freshly squeezed orange juice,
and eyes the the lightest brown, like cinnamon. She was very
distantly descended from a Veela. Fact: Helga's mother and father
died when she was very young. Fact: Helga was taught magic by her
mother's mother. Fact: Helga was the most beautiful maid in the land.
Before she was even sixteen, men had been knocking on the door of her
grandmother's house, asking for Helga's hand in marriage. You see,
not only was Helga Hufflepuff beautiful, but her parents had defied
tradition and left all of their land not to her father's parents, who
were still alive and well, but to their daughter. Since she was four
years old she had legally owned fifteen acres of land, a successful
farm. All the residents of her small Irish village knew Helga could
leave at any time with all the money she inherited, just up and leave
her tight knit community for the fine clothing and precious gems of
the monarchy.
That she did, but against her will.
The
seventeen year old beauty was kidnapped, kidnapped in her sleep by a
man whose name has been lost to history. She was thrown roughly into
a burlap bag and carried all the way to London to be presented to the
King and Queen. These Muggles, who could not understand the nature of
her soft beauty, who rejected the idea of gorgeous Veela who had
children and grandchildren and great grandchildren (of which Helga
was one), promised her marriage to an Indian prince from far away.
She stayed in the fine castle, eating only the freshest meat,
drinking only the sweetest wines, donning only the richest silks, and
Helga was miserable. She longed for the loving embrace of her
grandmother, the tinkling laughter of the children playing outside,
the warm sun on her face.
She decided to run away.
Doing this
required a bit of smarts, some skill, and a lot of luck. She planned
it all out very carefully. Helga had lived at the palace now for one
year, her eighteenth birthday several weeks behind her. She had
memorized schedules, and the one most crucial to the success of her
escape involved the changing of the guards. Every day at exactly
10:00 AM, the palace guards changed places in an elaborate ritual.
Helga and her ladies in waiting took strolls about the garden in the
early morning, and Helga realized that with the guards distracted by
their moving, she could slip away quite unnoticed. A simple lie to
her ladies that she had dropped a coin and to go one ahead of her was
all it took, and she was free.
That is how the story goes, Helga
Hufflepuff abandoning her high lifestyle in favor of the close Irish
community, and when all those there at her homecoming witnessed her
tears of joy, they had no trouble answering when asked who was the
most loyal of them all:
"Helga Hufflepuff!"
Fourth came Rowena Ravenclaw.
Rowena was born in
Wales. Her golden hair and mint green eyes gave the appearance of a
silly school girl, when she was anything but. Since a very young age
her greatest joy in life was solving puzzles and riddles, a feat she
marveled her family with. Not a question passed before her that she
could not answer.
Rowena's father was disliked by the people of
their village. He had been widowed when Rowena and her brother were
but tiny infants, and had married again not six months after his
wife's tragic death, and to a community devoted to the church it was
not a proper mourning period. They searched endlessly for evidence of
his incompetence as a father and husband. Ministers and townspeople
discovered that, when actual evidence is not found, resorting to lies
works best of all. The real reason that Rowena's father was wanted
dead was because his son was sickly, and soon to die. He held a large
amount of land that, though Rowena would be his only rightful heir if
his son died, would be passed onto the church as she was a girl.
The
summer of her sixteenth year her father was put to trial with charges
of the very worst, adultery. He vehemently denied all accusations,
but greedy men do not listen to an honest man's pleas. He was
condemned to death by hanging.
Her father, hoping to spare his
children the horror of his death, had sent Rowena and her brother to
the house of his elderly mother to live out their days. Sickly Rowan
was confined to bed, but gave his sister his blessing in helping to
save their father. She set out towards the church and arrived with
but moments to spare. Her father was walking towards the noose when
she burst into the building. She had no idea how to handle to angry,
jeering crowd. She remembered her mother's voice speaking to her from
a long, long time ago- "All problems have a solution. It's
just a question of whether you can find it amidst all the chaos."
Rowena began to speak to the crowd, using a technique later
dubbed reverse psychology. With words coming switly to her head she
convinced the priest and minister her father would suffer more, so
much more, if "forced" to live at home with his "mistress."
With her clear eyes and vacant face her lie was believed with ease.
After a sufficient trial, Rowena's father was sent home.
And when all those living in her home village were asked who was the cleverest of the all, none had any difficulty answering:
"Rowena Ravenclaw!"
And this is how the Founders of Hogwarts were chosen. Though they lived in very different places and had very different personalities their destinies intertwined.
They are the Founders, and God bless the Founders of Hogwarts School.
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