GODRIC GRYFFINDOR

It was a snowy day in the newly formed town of Hogsmeade when I, Godric Gryffindor, first visited it. I shivered—not because I was scared, but because of the cold—and buttoned up my scarlet coat all the way to my throat. Unfortunately, I had left my cloak at home; it seems I have dreadful luck in those matters. Very forgetful, I am. I stopped in front of the lone shop in the square. All the other shops had wizards surrounding them, casting spells to accelerate the building process.

"The Three Broomsticks," I whispered to myself. "May not be a good name, but I've heard their mead is incredible." I chuckled and opened the door. A gust of warm, sweet-smelling air greeted me. The shop was crowded with workwizards on their break and eager wizards who wanted to try their mead or new concoction, "butterbeer." I? Perhaps I would try their mead, or resort to my favorite, firewhiskey. It's remarkable for livening you up. I sat at a table right next to a majestic Christmas tree. Decorations seemed nice enough. I had just put my feet up on the chair across from me when a harassed waitress appeared at my side.

"Welcome to the Three Broomsticks, sir, I'm Rosmerta, my father is the owner of the Three Broomsticks, the shop with the best mead around. What may I get for you today?" she asked hurriedly. Rosmerta was pretty enough, with wide brown eyes and tousled chestnut hair.

"I guess I'll try the mead." I said. It was good to be brave, good to try something new, besides my old firewhiskey.

"One mead, coming right up. My daddy makes the best mead you'll have ever tasted. Accio mead!" She had whipped out her wand faster than I had ever seen before. I eyed her wand appreciatively.

"Nice wandwork, Rosmerta. But I'm sorry, I must say, you don't look a day older than fifteen."

"That's because I am fifteen. Here's your mead, sir."

"Fifteen?" I asked, taking the mead she handed me. "But how can that be? Do you attend a school for magic?"

"Ah, yes, I do. It's a rickety old school, but it serves its purpose well." Rosmerta replied, glancing back over to the bar where dozens of customers were waiting. "Er, sir, if I may—"

"I'm sorry, just one more question," I interrupted, "but how could your school let you perform underage magic? I'm quite sure that it's dangerous. After all, something may go wrong! Not that you're bad at wandwork, but really." I added hastily. Rosmerta looked at me for the first time.

"What's wrong with it? I only have to know Accio to be the owner of the Three Broomsticks. My daddy says I'll inherit the bar, and after I, my daughter. I'm the only child, because otherwise, my daddy would have given it to his son. But I'm going to pass it on to my daughter, even if I have a son. And so on, for generations to come." Rosmerta said proudly. "I know nothing will go wrong. And my school doesn't care; the Ministry of Magic doesn't care, so why should you care?" She turned around a bustled back to the bar. I stared after her.

Underage magic? Where I went to school—oh, right. It was allowed, as well. But my mother didn't allow it, after I nearly killed myself during an unfortunate accident when I was twelve. Taking a sip of my mead, I thought to myself, someone needs to change this system. We don't want kids to get hurt.

"And we'll put the second wall across from this table, if that's alright with you, sir." A woman with flowing, navy blue robes pointed straight at me, while a man bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning joyfully. "Sir. Will you please vacate the table? I need to talk with the owner about an extension." She said sternly to me.

"Excuse me? I was under the impression that I was a customer at this fine establishment." I said cheekily. The women narrowed her gray eyes and clenched her teeth.

"You are, sir, but I need you to please move." She said. The man next to her stopped bouncing and started looking worried.

"Rowena, maybe later—"

"No, Dmitri, now is the best time." Rowena held up her hand to Dmitri without taking her eyes off me.

"Well, I, personally, think that this customer does not want to leave this table. Peculiar. And I, personally, think that the customer is always right. That should be a saying: the customer is always right." I grinned and put my feet up on the table and my arms behind my head.

The next few moments, as you can possible perceive, were not very pleasant for me. Rowena completely lost her cool, if you ask me, and called me an arrogant…well, let's just say it was rude, shall we? I had leaped to my feet, defending myself and my honor, and yelled back a few choice words. Dmitri had tried to come between us, but well, it didn't exactly work. Before I knew it, we both had our wands drawn and pointed straight at each other's hearts. I hadn't known it would escalate so quickly. But my honor was at stake, and of course, it was certainly best to be courageous at all times. We were both panting heavily and circling each other. The entire shop was watching us in shocked silence.

"Wait!" someone yelled and thrust through the crowd, throwing themselves between us.

"What?" Rowena spat, still not taking her piercing gray eyes off me.

"You can't fight! We must be peaceful and try to be harmonious. Try and talk it out with words." Rowena and I looked at the speaker. It was a slightly pudgy young woman with curly wheat-colored hair and cornflower blue eyes. Her cheeks were ruddy and her robes were a pale yellow that nearly matched her hair.

"I don't think that will work, m'dear." Drawled a voice from the crowd. I was starting to become impatient. I just wanted to duel already, if that wasn't too much to ask. A skinny, dark haired man with cold, whitish eyes stepped forward, wearing emerald green robes. His face was still half hidden by darkness. "Helga, darling, these two obviously hate each other, Miss…and Mr…"

"Gryffindor, Godric Gryffindor." I said.

"Rowena Ravenclaw."

"Yes, Miss Ravenclaw and Mr. Gryffindor. I don't think this will work, Helga. Your peaceful methods can't work for everyone." I pondered for a moment.

"I know you!" I burst out. Everyone stared at me. "Salazar, I know it's you." I laughed. Salazar Slytherin was my best mate in the whole world. I should have known it was him; the green robes were a dead giveaway.

"You got me, Gryffindor." Salazar smiled slowly. "Now come on. This brawl is over. I must show you something in the apothecary in Diagon Alley. Much better than this place. What kind of name is that? And you, Gryffindor! I still don't understand why you value bravery and gallantry so much. Cunning and cleverness is much more important."

"I'd say wisdom." Rowena muttered.

"No, no, the best is concord! And you can't leave, Mr. Gryffindor! Your conflict is not resolved! You will hate forever and never learn to harmonize!" Her voice followed me through the door. "Forever, Mr. Gryffindor, forever!"

I put my arm around Salazar's shoulder and laughed. I really owed him one for getting me out of that little spiff.

I hope I never see those two again.