Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and subsequent awesomeness are property of the amazing J.K. Rowling.
Chapter One: Founders
Helga Hufflepuff knocked on the wooden door. She had lines on her face which had not been there this time last year, and her coppery hair was streaked with grey. Rowena had offered countless times to charm her into a younger-looking woman, as she did for herself often. Helga was not vain, however; weary and dejected perhaps, but never vain.
"Oh, do come in. You need never knock, my dear," Rowena's high, musical voice called.
The dark-haired witch sat in relative darkness, surrounded by faded manuscripts. The candles flickered feebly, barely casting any light. Rowena seemed not to notice however, remaining bent over the vellum pages.
"Rowena?"
"Hmm? Oh, of course. Helga. I am so sorry, as of late I seem to be so . . ." Her voice trailed off into nothing. She glanced up, her dark eyes ringed with uncharacteristic lines. "I grow so weary, my dear Helga. Each day it seems, our hopes slip ever further from us. . . . I do believe Salazar shall truly depart this time."
"Godric failed to persuade him then?"
"As always. He never was able to hold his own against him. They are too close for their own good. For Godric's own good, I should say. Salazar on the other hand . . . he has outgrown us, outgrown this. He means to outlive us as well, I should think."
Helga placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. "And how fare you with this? I know that you and Salazar were—"
"So long ago, my dear. He is not the same man as he once was. Nor is Godric. They have grown so . . . big. Their names and legends precede them, wherever they go, and so many realms where they never have gone. All over Britain, and indeed, Ireland as well, they speak of them: Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, the greatest wizards since the days of Merlin." Her voice was hard and bitter.
"Surely they say the same of us . . ."
"One would imagine so. And yet . . . I spoke with a wizard, in an inn, who knew not that Hogwarts held more than Salazar and Godric. He wondered how the school would fare, with only Godric to keep it in order, should Salazar depart." She gazed wistfully out the window, at the land she had enchanted, the students laughing in the sunshine.
"He is but one man, one very foolish man," Helga asserted, as much for her own sake as Rowena's.
"Is he though? Will there come a day when the legend of Hogwarts is one of friendship and betrayal, between the two greatest wizards of the age? Shall there come a time when Godric and Salazar's feud is legendary, with our names but a whisper in the wind? Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw, the great, forgotten witches," she laughed hollowly, the sound ringing in the silence.
"That is quite enough. My friend, my dear, dear friend you are weary. You have not slept, I can see. Go lie down and speak this madness not. All shall be well when you wake,"
Rowena looked about to reply, but the words would not come to her tongue. And all the better for it. Helga thought, as Rowena wandered off to her bedchamber.
The warm smile she had worn slipped away and a sigh escaped her lips.
Rowena shall be remembered, I doubt that not. Myself, however . . . But Helga sighed, and smiled, and bustled down to the kitchens all the same. What should I care for remembrance? What is remembrance, when there is supper to cook and children to teach?
"If Rowena only thought the same," She whispered under her breath, knowing it would never be so.