A Founder's Regret

It has been twenty years since Salazar made his one return visit, before he truly left us forever. Rowena and Helga have since died and I now stand alone.

Godric Gryffindor sat in the Headmaster's office, christened as such upon the death of Helga when there remained only one Founder left. It was too painful to call it the Founders' Office any longer after that, and so Godric had renamed it and taken on the position of Headmaster.

He had appointed new teachers and had stepped back from the role of instructor. He was a distant Headmaster, rarely leaving his office to interact with others. He made one speech at the beginning of the year and another at the end, never remaining in the Great Hall more than thirty minutes, the typical length of the Sorting, which was now handled by his old hat.

The man, appearing far older than was natural for his age, still had that bright gleam in his eye as he took a few steps to fetch his hat. Without hesitation, Godric placed it on his head and waited.

"I see that you seek advice, or at the least, counselling," Godric heard the voice plainly within his head.

"Yes. I think – No. I know that I could have handled the disagreement with Salazar far better than I did."

"You could have. Indeed, you did have the ability to do far more than make threats of death against him. You truly could have had words with him; though you were each far too obstinate to really listen to each other when you disagreed," the little voice grew stronger, as if Godric should have consulted his hat twenty years prior, or more.

"But that time is long past, and what is done is done. I cannot change the past any more than you can, dear friend. Every time I try and remember them, Helga and Rowena, I can do nothing to stop myself from thinking of Salazar as I saw him on that last occasion, near the forest. I told him his life had been made forfeit the moment he stepped on the grounds, and I truly meant to kill him. But then he spoke, and he left. He, in his own way, made an apology. He would never come out and do so unless he truly meant it, and he made one final plea for my understanding of his position. I should have accepted him back. I should not have allowed a petty disagreement to destroy our friendship."

"I do not think you need me any longer, Godric," the hat said, voicing its pleasure that Godric had worked out his problem for himself.

The Headmaster removed his hat and set it back in the corner, and as he reached for his wand to mix himself a drink, he brushed the hilt of his sword. He always wore that sword, and he had always been so unwilling to listen to the others about it.

Helga had simply called it off-putting. She had told him that he was a great man as it was, and that carrying a sword only made him look foolish.

Rowena had had similar sentiments. She refused to sit next to him during feasts because of it, and consequently sat next to Salazar and later his empty chair, which she had kept in good condition with the hope that he would return one day. The hope was empty, as it was merely a year after his visit that she had died. She had sent the Baron to find Helena, and they returned the day of her death. Or, at least, their ghosts had done so.

Salazar had never liked the sword. He called it an empty symbol, a pathetic and hypocritical holding of Godric's. "Why," he had said, "Why do you keep a goblin-made sword, and intend to keep it from its makers after your own death, but you refuse to acknowledge the threat of the Mudbloods? You do the same to the goblins, deny those traitorous beings what they believe is theirs by right, that you refuse to do to the treacherous spawn of Muggles who believe that an education in the ancient and beautiful arts of magic is theirs by right!"

Not once had Godric considered the others' thoughts on his sword. "They did not understand," he had reasoned. "I had the sword crafted specifically for the brave and valorous, and goblins are anything but that," he had said.

But now, now the old Founder was nearing the end of his natural life and had no need for such things. He reached back for the hat and unsheathed the sword, and said "Take this sword into you and it shall return to you whenever a brave person in need calls for help from within you. This sword is forever bound to you, made to return to you from wherever it may be if the call is made." With a flick of his wand, the sword was gone and the hat opened its brim.

"It is as you have intended, within me until its assistance is called for."

"Thank you, hat," Godric said before setting his wand down on the desk. He opened a cabinet, finding within it the liquor he was searching for, and poured it into a glass goblet.

Reclining in his chair, he took long sips from his drink, grimacing slightly as it went down. After he finished, he refilled the goblet and drained it again. Resting comfortably in his chair, he looked toward the wall and said "Starting with the next Headmaster, you will create a portrait for those that have completed their jobs with the best interests of the school at heart, just as we all intended."

Godric smiled briefly and looked up toward the ceiling. "I am sorry to have been so late in rejoining you all, but I hope that my lateness can be forgiven. Helga, I cannot express how I regret what happened between us.

"Rowena, I know how deeply you cared for Salazar and I also know how deeply you were affected when he left again. I know that the following year was difficult, and I wish you had not had to see Helena's ghost just before you died. I failed you as a friend that day, and for that I offer my apologies.

"Sal, I should not have driven you away. I should have taken your words into consideration, and we may have been able to work out our differences. But I was young and rash and I allowed the argument to get the better of me. I should never have threatened your life. I love you, my friend, and hope that you have found happiness since your departure.

"My time is short, now, as I am an old man. I hope to find you on the other side, Rowena and Helga, and you, too, Salazar, should your demise have come since I saw you last. I only hope that you can all forgive me for my failings."

The sole remaining Founder set down his glass, placed his wand in his robe pocket, and rested his head against the soft back of his chair. Closing his eyes for the last time, he whispered softly "I regret it all and wish I could have done better by each of you."