Assignment 7: Ghost Hunting: Task Two: Write about someone depleting their energy.

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AN: You know, there may or may not be any canonical statement that Salazar Slytherin was a pureblood, but I started writing this and decided, screw it. things geet distorted over time. So what if he was a Muggleborn? and here we are.

…

Salazar swore to himself that he would never come back to Hogwarts, when he left.

That time of his life was over. Their disagreement had been too fundamental to ignore. Salazar only wanted to keep them safe from the prying eyes of Muggles who didn't understand, who wanted them exterminated.

And yet he was called intolerant, full of bigotry. Godric, the man he loved more than his own life, looked at him with fury in his eyes and asked how he could do this to what they had built.

And Salazar could handle a lot. Was used to handling a lot.

After all, he was seven years old when he levitated the family cat and knew, deep in his bones, that he had magic. He'd heard his father's rants about witches often enough to know that he was better off saying nothing.

He tried to keep it a secret, but it kept spilling out of him, and the longer he kept it down, the more explosively it revealed itself, until one day his mother saw him turn his sister blue in his anger.

She grabbed him by the ear and dragged him into their house, her face cast in stony silence.

And then there was his father's cane and an exorcism and then another, Salazar's head being dunked under holy water and held there until he had to inhale, sucking water into his lungs and burning his trachea.

There were attempts to drown the devil inside him, and attempts to burn it out, his father and mother and their priest standing over him, holding a flaming torch to his left hand. They cut his arms and tried to bleed the devil out, leaving him pale and shaky and tear-stricken.

They kept him padlocked in the bedroom, gave him only holy water to drink, chanted and prayed and cried.

And still the magic burst out of him, in color and heat and movement of things he never meant to move. It left him drained, exhausted, breathless, and still they tried.

Salazar still doesn't know how long they kept him there.

Until one day his magic split the lock, and his mother, watching the door, was sleeping, and Salazar saw his chance to escape. He crept out, and he ran and he ran and he ran.

Three years later, he met Godric, and they helped each other, and no matter how many times Godric asked, Salazar never explained the charred flesh on his left hand. It was over. It didn't matter.

And they met Helga and Rowena, and they knew that a place to train young wizards and witches was necessary — Salazar and Godric had taught themselves, slaving over the work and piecing together what they could do with Godric's father's wand. Godric was an orphan, after all, and Salazar had told him that he was as well. He might as well have been. They knew that not everyone could learn from their parents.

So they set up Hogwarts, and they invited children from all over the land, and they taught, and all was good.

Until Helga suggested inviting the children of Muggles, and Salazar could only remember his mother's face, the searing feeling of flames licking up his left arm, the way it felt to draw water into his lungs.

And Helga had looked at him softly, at first, and said, "Sal, I know Muggles hurt you, but you know not all Muggles are like that."

Salazar has never told her, but Helga is clever, especially when it comes to the people she cares about. It's not hard to guess that his burns come from Muggles — they like to burn.

But things are different, when it's your own child. Things are different, when it's your own parents.

Salazar cannot invite those people into his home. He cannot risk the sanctuary they've built.

And so he leaves.

And he tells himself he'll never come back.

But then Helga sends him a letter that says Godric is dying, and Salazar remembers the fury in his eyes but Salazar has never stopped loving him, and Salazar cannot let him die alone.

So here he is.

…

Godric is in his bed. He looks weak, and exhausted, but when Salazar says hello, Godric turns to him and his eyes are as bright as they always were. He has a beard now, as though to mark the time that has passed.

"Salazar," he says softly. He smiles, and Salazar feels it wash over him like a benediction.

"Godric."

Salazar will not apologize. He does not believe he was wrong. But Godric doesn't need him to.

Godric sits up, although it is clear that the mere effort exhausts him, and Salazar moves forward, ready to catch him if he falls or protest and ease him back, but Godric catches the movement and waves him off, stubborn as always.

"I'm dying, not dead."

"You're a fool, is what you are," Salazar mumbles, but he steps closer anyway, drawn into Godric's orbit as always.

Godric is the one who reaches out, takes his hand. "That may be. I've always been stupid over you."

Salazar can't help but smile at him softly. "Likewise," he says.

"Won't you kiss me?" Godric asks, and Salazar hadn't known if he was allowed, hadn't wanted to press, but he will not refuse what is offered to him.

He leans down, presses his lips to Godric's. Godric kisses him with all the strength he's ever had, pouring his heart and soul into it, and Salazar loves him as fiercely as he ever had.

When Godric breaks away, he is gasping for breath and sagging against him, and Salazar eases him back into the pillows. He looks exhausted, but he still reaches out, takes Salazar's hand.

"Stay," he says, and it's not a question.

"Of course. I'm right here. I'm never letting you go again," Salazar replies, and slips in beside him. He holds Godric close as the man drops off to sleep.

Less than five minutes later, he stops breathing.

Salazar closes his eyes, but it does not stop the tears from falling.

…

Word Count (Dragons, writing month, auction): 1018

Auction: "I'm right here" 1.4

Zoo: Snake - Write about a Slytherin

365: slave

insane house: 864: angst

Seasonal

Days: 23rd April: Lover's Day - Write about lovers having a 'moment.'

Flowers: Peony - (theme) Reunion

Earth:

Amanda's: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Write a story about an orphan. Alt. Write about adopting a child.

Hufflepuff: (Character) Helga Hufflepuff

Star: March 27th - Conjunction of the moon and Jupiter: (dialogue) "I'm never letting you go."

WC:

Appreciation: 4. Good Friday - Write about a death.

Book Club: Mulch Diggums: (feature) beard, (plot point) nothing going according to plan, (word) escape

Em's Emporium: Characters: (situation) Write about polar opposites. Alt — (trope) found family.

Liza's: 10. Write about someone overcoming an obstacle.

Bex's Basement: Bruce (Fear)

Constellation: Pisces 1. Kullat Nunu: (character) Salazar Slytherin

Funfair: Guess the Name: Imogen - Sadness