A/N So this was a response to a challenge. My first Founders fic EVER, and I haven't ever read a founders fic so I was wingin' it.
I would LOVE feed back, if you liked it, if it didn't work at all, just something because I'm not quite sure where i stand on this. Still rather nervous.....
GIP
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It was accepted that they were friends. Though never voiced, never questioned, the delicate and complex relationships that weaved between them were simple to those caught up in the web. So precise was this friendship of four that with the faltering of one, comes the downfall of all.
Tucked away high in the dark and deserted hills of Scotland four figures picked their way through the sparse brush towards the edge of a calm black lake. These four young wizards had met not long before, but driven by their shared dissatisfaction of their own veiled world, had decided to leave their own mark on the magical world and bring the opportunity of endless knowledge to all of their kind.
Rowena Ravenclaw had met Salazar Slytherin at a formal ball in London only a few months earlier. Both had been forced there by family who wished to marry them off, both were completely uninterested. A chance meeting lead to hours spent in a back corner discussing every thought either of them had ever had. Since the Magical world was so small then, finding another witch or wizard of equal intellect was a rarity, something neither of them had experienced until now. Keeping in close contact over the following weeks, Salazar soon moved to London, where Rowena lived with her family, under the pretense of a possible marriage between the two, though nether had any intention of such a thing ever happening. Their discussions soon turned to the betterment of their magical world and the obvious solution had been a school. A place where every witch or wizard could learn magic, and be proud of it, for too often were magical abilities in children ignored or suppressed in an attempt to conform to Muggle life.
Both were powerful and intelligent but it was Rowena who convinced Salazar that they would need more than just their combined powers. It did not take long before Salazar contacted Helga Hufflepuff, a kindly warm and simple witch he had met through family connections and invited her to London to join in their venture. Rowena had found Godric Gryffindor, the quintessential strapping young wizard whose noble nature was unforgettable.
Together in a back room of the Raveclaw home they had all four met for the first time.
Two months later they left, telling no one where they were going or why. They knew that if they were to be successful, they had to be the only ones who knew of this school, the only ones who could influence what it was to become.
As they stood at the edge of the glassy black lake, Helga was the first to speak.
"This is it. This is where it should be built." Silently they agreed as they looked on across the valley towards and expanse of meadow and hill currently covered in the wild grass and flowers of spring. This is where they would build their school.
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One month later a tired and disheveled Salazer Slytherin sat at the kitchen table of their temporary home. A modest stone house of two stories and just enough rooms to house all four comfortably, it was their home until Hogwarts was finished, or at least nearly finished. It had taken quite a while to decide upon a name, Hogwarts had been Godrics idea and eventually they all agreed, Salazar begrudgingly.
Rubbing at his tired eyes he poured himself a third firewhisky. It was late, or it was early, all depending on how you looked at it. Salazar figured it was around 3 in the morning. The day had been long, spent as it was always spent, working on the castle. They had been slowly working from the bottom floors upwards. Once the general structure was finished they would be able to work on specifics, passage ways, bewitch walls and so on. It was getting to a point where Salazar wanted to scream.
Rowena had kept them all busy working with little time to rest or become distracted which they all appreciated, but it did wear on them. Helga he could stand, though a little wishy-washy at times she was a good woman. Godric, however, Salazar had grown very fond of this mans absence not three days after their project began. His noble and chivalrous nature was so irritating, Salazar could do nothing more than glower while around him.
What made everything worse was that he was a relentless snoop. Being an Occlumens meant that it took nothing more than to look someone in the eyes to find out what they were thinking, and though it would have saved his sanity to avoid their private thoughts and memories he just couldn't help it. To know just how noble of a person Godric was, right down to the bone, it was more than he could bare. In comparison Godric was an insufferable suckup, a rule follower, a good person and the truth of it was almost unbearable to Salazar.
He heard padded footsteps on hard wood and turned. A groggy looking Helga walked through the kitchen door way and joined Salazar at the table.
"Couldn't sleep?" He asked
"No actually, I was sleeping fine. But then you woke me up, thank you for asking." Her statement and small smile made Salazar snort.
"Sorry."
"You know, generally when a person is tired, sleep is the best way to remedy it." The kindness in her voice was going to kill him softly.
"Thank you for your concern Helga, but I am currently finding that my companionship with this bottle of firewhisky is far more advantageous than sleep." Leaning back in his chair heavily, he sighed "Currently you are the only one whose presence does not annoy me at this moment, there for Helga you are a very special woman" Rowena would scold him for drinking and Godric, well his presence was continually annoying. He raised his half empty shot glass in the air as if toasting her, and then downed it. She shook her head in amusement.
"You're going to feel awful tomorrow, and don't you dare try to blame it on me."
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The sun rose earlier than usual, it being summer, and by half past 6 in the morning it was nearly fully exposed over the surrounding hills. The dew was quickly evaporating from the grass, though the real summer heat wouldn't fully hit for another few hours. Salazar groaned and attempted to hide his eyes from the light. He had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, but was awoken by the light streaming in through the windows.
He hadn't finished the bottle, he wasn't that stupid, but there was a sizable dent in it. It wasn't quite late enough for the others to be up yet, so with a partially throbbing and a partially swimming head he attempted to make his way from the kitchen, up the stairs to his own room. He may be able to sleep for another hour or so before the others became tired of waiting for him.
He used the wall of the hallway to guide him from the kitchen to the stair case, and from there the handrail, all the while keeping his eyes closed so as to no aggravate his headache with more of the harsh morning light. Around the corner of the hallway, up the stairs to the second floor. It was darker upon the second floor so Salazar chanced opening his eyes to see to his room.
He severely regretted this habit that had carried on from adolescence into his adulthood. Though it seldom happened, every time ended the same, in a declaration to self that never again would he touch alcohol. Obviously he never stayed true to it.
Grasping the corner of the stairway railing he steadied himself and turned toward his door, but before he could get farther than a step he saw a door at the end of the hallway open and out emerge a shadowed figure. Godric quietly shut his door before turning toward where Salazar stood. Salazar nearly crossed his eyes in annoyance at having to see him at this moment in time, he was sure that his good nature would force Godric to take pity on him, to desire to help him, or something equally as annoying. He scowled and held his tongue, hoping he could escape the tight confines of the hallway into his room where he would be safe inside of his own head. Though apparently he wasn't quick enough.
"You are up early this morning Salazar."
"Or up rather late. Though I believe you have hardly ever stayed awake past your bedtime so I don't expect you to jump to such a conclusion first." he spat back. Apparently the firewhisky hadn't worn off nearly at all and he was having a difficult time disguising his dislike of Godric.
"You have been up all night? What have you been doing?" He came much closer, just now noticing how Salazar was using the far wall to hold himself upright. Concern began to spread to his face, softening his eyes and making him look that much more pathetic.
"Merlin, I'm fine. Just let me alone will you."
"Salazar, are you drunk?" What really got to Salazar was that it was a genuine question. He was not trying to mock or disrespect him, but rather he was concerned about him. Never had anyone been so concerned as Godric was at this moment, or had been ever. That is what Salazar was so uncomfortable with, the genuine kindness and compassion that Godric had for everyone around him, even himself. Courage, nobility, honor, loyalty, all of these he could deal with, but not with caring, not with unconditional love.
As Godric moved closer, Salazar found himself growing more confused about it all, more curious. It only took a few steps but when Godric came to stand in front of him, he looked him in the eyes. Though he was hunched against the wall he was still a few inches taller than Godric, staring down into his eyes he tried to see, but Godric moved too quickly. So preoccupied by curiosity he did not realize that he had continued around to his side until he felt the warmth of his arm against his back and he was helped off the wall. Anger and embarrassment took over.
"I can walk just fine!" He snapped, forcefully pushing himself off of the wall and attempting to stalk toward his room. He quickly closed the distance between the hall way and his closed door, but lost balance at the last moment and came to lean on the door jam as his head began to swim again. And again there was Godric, right behind him making sure that he didn't stumble or fall.
"What the hell is your problem?!" He hissed at Godric, who stared at him in a mixture of fear and confusion. Unknowingly he had switched to parseltongue, hissing his frustration at Godric, which only provoked his anger further.
Everything built up from the past month here came flooding to him in his frustration. The unnecessary kindness, the concern, the unbreakable loyalty and the never dying honor, the selfless acts. It seemed as if everything Godric did annoyed him in some way, made him angry, frustrated. In reality it made it him less, made him feel inadequate, for how could someone be so honest and true towards people he had only known a short while, to people who didn't necessarily deserve his kindness, in situation in which selfishness would have been easier, more advantageous.
In the end, Salazar hated Godric because he was a better person than he was. He was everything Salazar wasn't, and couldn't ever be. Though he never aspired to be a person such as Godric, he admired him, admired him because he was the polar opposite of what he was and what he valued. He hated Godric, because he made him question himself.
They stood in the hallway looking at each other. Godric in confusion, and Salazar in frustration and defeat.
"Why are you so bloody....perfect" Salazar spat silently. It could have been either the whiskey talking or himself, but at the moment he couldn't tell between the two of them. Godric's look of confusion only grew more apparent.
"What--Salazar-" Taking a step closer he looked up to the taller man. In this moment, Salazar took the opportunity to learn what was going on beneath Godrics calm surface. It only took a moment to pick through his thoughts and memories quickly, but what he found made no real sense to him. He lifted both hands from the door frame behind him and rubbed at his face as if it would clean the slate so he could start a new. Without realizing it he began to loose his balance, but again was caught.
Admitting to himself that no, the firewhisky had not worn off yet, he allowed Godric to keep him upright with strong arms as he tried to reposition himself against his closed door. Still puzzled and overwhelmed by not understanding what he had seen he looked back to Godric, who had grown silent in demeanor.
"I don't understand you" He stated simply. Again there was no real reaction from him other than a small nod.
"Really, I'm not sure that I understand myself either." He replied, he continued to look up at Salazar, but not at his eyes. He was staring a point a bit lower than that. In a moment Godric closed the small gap between the two men and tilted his head upwards to press his lips against Salazars.
He found himself paralyzed by surprise as Godric softly kissed him. It wasn't heated or demanding, just simple. Just a kiss. It lasted only a moment before they slowly parted. Salazars eyes were still open and he searched for Godrics. He couldn't speak, for if he hadn't understood Godric before, there was no real way he could understand him now. Why had he done that? They were so different, so contrasting. But maybe that was why? It wasn't as if he had the ability to think through Godrics reasonings at the moment.
What he did wonder about was himself. Why hadn't he stepped away, turned his head. It took only a second for him to realize that, for the first time, he wasn't annoyed, or angry, frustrated or irritated by something Godric had done. He opened his mouth to speak, but he could not think of anything to stay, so he stood there gaping like a fish still nearly flush against him. In the next moment Godrics lips were again on his again, only this time with more passion. Snaking a hand to the back of his neck, Godric pulled him closer as he kissed him. Salazar could feel more than just lips, but tongue and teeth, and strangely enough he did not mind.
He began to kiss him back. Grasping the front of Godrics shirt in a fist he pressed back against his lips, allowing their tongues to meet, breath to mix, arms to entwine.
He didn't know what was happening really, or why. What it would mean later, or what it meant at the moment even. But in those moments when they stopped talking and let themselves explore each other, Salazar realized that he didn't find Godric irritating, but in fact quite the opposite. He wanted him.