Hello, all. This is a little Founders fic, detailing the first time all four of them were together. I like how it turned out, although bits of it are... weird... Oh, well. Tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its characters. Those are the property of JK Rowling. However, the characters' personalities are (more or less) mine, as is the storyline.

Godric Gryffindor was breathing heavily, bracing himself against the side of the tower that he had found in the middle of the woods. Lying around him was the corpse of a dragon. The creature's pale sapphire eye stared lifelessly at him, reflecting the cloud-dotted sky above it. The dragon hadn't been a normal one. Godric had seen those before, and he knew how to deal with them. This one had been almost eerily intelligent, and its mannerisms had been strangely human.

Still gasping for breath, the red-haired warrior wiped the blood off of his sword on the grass below his feet and stuffed his wand into his belt in the same motion. A dry voice suddenly drifted over. "Well. She will not be very happy about this."

Godric whirled around, drawing his wand and pointing it at the figure balanced precariously on the dragon's shoulder. For a second, the red-haired warrior just stared at him, wondering when the figure had gotten there.

The figure stepped down almost delicately onto the grass. It was a man, with pitch black hair and pale grey eyes. The man examined the dead dragon disinterestedly and twirled his wand in his left hand. "She is not going to be happy about this at all," the man said calmly.

Godric narrowed his eyes and didn't lower his wand. For all that the man appeared to be relatively harmless, his attire was strongly reminiscent of that of a dark wizard. The man sneered. "She is going to kill you, you know."

The tip of Godric's wand began to glow, but he wasn't going to attack first. "Who are you talking about?"

The man stopped twirling his wand and instead gripped it loosely. "Huh. You really do not know where you are, do you?" Confusion blossomed in Godric's stomach, and he opened his mouth to ask another question.

But he was interrupted when the man gave a sharp flick of his wrist, sending an all too familiar burst of green light at the red-haired warrior. Godric let out a yell and dived out of the way, shooting a simple Stunning spell at the man. The dark-haired man blocked without even moving, merely turning his head lazily. He had immediately jumped to the Killing Curse, which spoke volumes about his character. When Godric stood, chest heaving, still tired from his fight with the dragon, he demanded, "What reason have you to fight with me?"

The man lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. Voice impassive, he asked, "What else is there to do?"

Horrified at the idea that this man had attacked him for amusement, Godric said immediately, "There are plenty of things!"

The man merely shrugged and shot another green beam of light at the red-haired warrior, who sidestepped and cast another hex. They fought this way for several more long minutes, Godric constantly running about and leaping over the dragon's massive corpse to avoid the man's spells. Godric was considered one of the most powerful wizards in the country, if not the continent. And it stunned him that this man barely even needed to move three steps to avoid his spells and counter with his own. The man yawned, abruptly putting a halt on their duel. Standing against the dragon's haunches, Godric poked his head warily over the giant corpse to see what had stopped the barrage of spells.

The man said, bored, "This is becoming dull." He began to flick his wand in a complicated pattern. "It is time to end this little game." Ropes — thick, heavy, convulsing — ropes shot from the tip of his wand and streamed over the ground towards Godric. The red-haired warrior shot alternating blasts of water and fire at the ropes, backing up slowly as his attacks did nothing.

With a start, he realized what they were. They weren't ropes. A hissing sound filled the air, and only later would he realize that it came from the dark-haired man's mouth. The ropes surged on ever faster, eyes gleaming and fangs shining. "Snakes," Godric whispered, feeling his heartbeat spike.

"Salazar!" a woman's voice shrieked.

The dark-haired man froze, grey eyes finally betraying an emotion. Those pale eyes flicked quickly from the snakes to the dragon's corpse. Swearing to himself, he flicked his wand. The snakes vanished and the man scrambled up the body of the dragon to see who had called. "I am busy!" he shouted.

Godric nearly collapsed. Sagging with relief, he took a deep breath. He would never admit it, but snakes terrified him. Dragons were one thing, but snakes. . . .

The woman's voice came again. "What happened?!"

Godric snuck around the tail of the dragon to see what was going on. What he saw made him stop short. A woman was standing before the dark wizard, her dark blue eyes huge and her pale hands pressed against her mouth. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back in a voluminous wave and she almost seemed to radiate regality. She so sharply contrasted the sallow man standing beside her that it was almost laughable.

Her hand shot out and grabbed the dark-haired man's arm. "Salazar," she whispered, voice cracking, "Did you kill her?!"

Salazar glared at her. "Why would I kill your pet dragon?"

Godric gaped. The dragon had been this woman's pet?! Was she insane?

The dark-haired man continued, "You know she does not like it when strangers come here."

The woman's dark blue eyes blazed and she turned on the spot. "Strangers? Here?" Those cobalt eyes found Godric's vivid green ones. Anger sparked in the blue and she snarled, "You killed Myrikal!"

The red-haired warrior ran his hand through his wild hair and snapped, finally at his wit's end, "To be fair, it attacked me first."

The woman replied, voice cold, "Strangers are not welcome here."

Godric looked around. They were in a clearing deep in the forest. The only building was the freakishly tall tower, which the dragon's corpse was wrapped around. "I was sent to kill a dark wizard that was terrorizing the city at the edge of the forest," he explained.

Salazar sneered coldly. "That's a three days journey from here. The dark wizard you're looking for is Escract. He lives much closer to the forest edge."

The woman immediately stepped in between the two wizards as if by instinct and pulled a wand out of her belt. "You are not welcome here," she said in an almost lofty manner, "and Salazar is not a dark wizard."

The grey-eyed man let out a bitter laugh and flicked his wand violently. Snakes erupted briefly on the grass and Godric leaped backwards as if stung. The serpents vanished as quickly as they'd appeared, but the red-haired warrior was still shaken. Salazar muttered, "Rowena—"

She cut him off. "You are not!" Her flaming blue eyes turned to Godric and she added, "Leave, or else I will allow him to hex you."

"What am I, your pet dog?" Salazar inquired, but turned the point of his wand upon Godric, who was suddenly glad that he was several yards away from him.

Slowly, he took a step backwards. He understood now that he wasn't in the right place and that he was trespassing on their home — even if it was rather strange — but Godric was a proud man. He wasn't quick to admit that he had made a mistake. And so he said tartly, "He was the one who attacked me first."

Rowena looked behind herself and at Salazar, dark brows drawn together in a frown. "Is that true?"

Salazar met her gaze without flinching, a lie forming on his lips. But she noticed that, and her glare sharpened. The dark-haired man appeared terrifying and dangerous, but he flinched under her unrelenting gaze and sighed. "Yes," he said slowly and through gritted teeth.

The woman turned to look at Godric, who flinched away from her glare as well. "It does not matter," she decided finally, "Although I specifically told Salazar to not kill everyone who trespasses—"

"He killed your dragon!"

"—you still committed crimes against us. Nothing will change the fact that you are not welcome here."

Godric took a deep, calming breath. There was no way he could win in his this situation. And so he turned to go. If he had left in that moment and ridden to the edge of the forest and killed Escract, then he may very well have never seen those two again. But he didn't simply walk away. His exit was interrupted when a young woman with ginger hair popped out of the trees surrounding the clearing, leading a pure white mare. "Godric," she snapped, pale azure eyes reproachful, "You swore you would return in an hour. It has been two." Suddenly those eyes widened and she gasped, "Is that a dragon? Godric, you have been killing dragons without me?! Why is there a tower there? Oh! It is like a fairytale!" Abruptly, she realized that Godric wasn't alone and that one of the strangers had a wand pointed at him. Her eyes widened and she dropped the reigns of the horse and raced over to the red-haired warrior, her skirts flying about her heels.

"Helga!" he hissed, freezing, "Get back! This is not safe."

She gripped his shoulder surprisingly tightly, and replied evenly, "I have not traveled with you as a doll, Godric. You know perfectly well what I am capable of."

Heat spread across the warrior's face, and he said quickly, "Of course." After a second, he added, "I had forgotten."

Rowena glared at the two of them, clearly irritated now that it was clear they were not leaving. "Why do you insist upon staying here?" she demanded, "There is nothing that you need here."

Godric looked down at his companion. He had first met her in a small Muggle town when he had been thirteen and on the run. He had been injured, and she had snuck some medicines out of her home for him. Later that year, he returned to ask for medicines for a horse he had stolen — and injured, but that was besides the point — only to hear that she and her family was gone. A year after that, he had encountered her as an orphan in one of the Wizarding refugee camps. Ever since, they'd been traveling together, and she had become as dear as a sister to him. "Helga," he whispered, so that the others couldn't hear, "She is right. We should leave."

Helga narrowed her eyes. She was gifted in that she could literally see different types of magic, which made her particularly useful during duels or when searching for treasure in places that were undoubtably covered with spell-traps. "But . . . Godric, there is no way we can leave without them casting spells at our backs."

Rowena impatiently brushed her raven-colored hair out of her face. "We will not shoot you in the back," she said tiredly, "Leave, or else I will have Salazar shoot you in the front."

The dark-haired man grinned at the two trespassers. "Believe me, I have no qualms about doing that."

Helga opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him off. She could be incredibly fiery when she put her mind to it. But Godric put a hand on her shoulder, whispering, "We should go." Alone, and he probably would have argued more. But he couldn't risk her getting hurt. He had seen the way Salazar fought.

Helga turned to look at him, pale azure eyes startled. "Why?"

However, they had taken too long. The young woman's head snapped around to face the other two, her mouth opening in a warning shout, and snakes burst out of the air and fell to the ground, slithering towards them.

Godric swallowed hard, feeling bile rising in his throat. But he raised his wand and his sword, prepared to fight. Fear thrummed through his veins, making him feel faint. Why couldn't it have been lizards? Lizards were perfectly fine. Spiders, even. But snakes. . . . It just had to be snakes. . . .

Helga shouted, "He is conjuring one to the left!" Godric spun and slashed his sword through the air. The snake hadn't even been fully formed before it fell to the ground. The young woman's eyes flicked back and forth with lightning-speed. "Three in the grass in front of you!" The red-haired warrior swiped the ground with his wand, roasting the greenery. "Behind you, by the white tree!"

The two of them worked seamlessly, Helga Transfiguring the snakes that Godric wasn't fast enough to kill, and Godric slicing through those that she hadn't seen.

Abruptly, Helga cried, "Fog!" As soon as she said that, the air turned white as the snakes' bodies were Transfigured into a thick white mist. Godric immediately cast a Bubble-Head Charm around both himself and Helga to prevent themselves from inhaling any of the fog; when it Transfigured back into snake pieces, as it was bound to, he didn't want it in his lungs. He caught her wrist in his sword hand and pulled her behind him so that they were back to back.

"Can you dispel it?" he asked, voice low. Because of the charm, his voice came out disjointed and muffled, but it was still comprehensive. He was standing very still, listening for any more attacks. Slowly, he sheathed his sword, but he kept his wand raised.

She replied calmly and without a hint of panic, enunciating clearly and precisely. He loved her for that. "Of course. What do you take me for, a common magician?"

A smirk slipped across his face. "They are either about to attack or are waiting for us to attack."

She pinched his elbow, hissing, "I am not a child, Godric! I know this!"

Without pausing to allow for her interruption, he finished, "So I need you to look—"

She cut him off. "One Animagus transformation at 90 degrees." She turned her head from side to side. "I don't think that was snake-boy, though." Her pale azure eyes latched onto the spot where the Animagus transformation had occurred. "I wonder. . . ?" Her head abruptly snapped around, and he could see the whites of her eyes all the way around her azure irises. She had seen the only type of magic that could make her afraid. While Godric was terrified of snakes, she was fearful of dark magic.

The fog suddenly vanished, and Godric raised his sword instinctively, canceling the Bubble-Head Charm with a hurried whisper. Louder, he asked warily, "Did you do that?"

"No." It wasn't Helga who answered. It was Salazar, pale grey eyes glowing with delight and thin lip twisted with malice. The dark-haired man twirled his wand through his fingers, and he said drily, "I doubt she could do such a thing so quickly and efficiently."

Helga leaped forwards despite her trembling and snapped, "You sexist h—"

"Helga!" Godric grabbed her shoulder with his wand hand and jerked her back behind him. He narrowed his eyes, examining Salazar. The lanky man stood completely still, stance relaxed and completely at ease.

The dark-haired man's smirk widened. "Believe me, darling, Ro would not let me get away with being sexist." He flicked his wand, sending bright green blasts of magic at the two. He sighed when Godric simply dodged them. "Ah, well. I am glad that she allowed me to fight you two, however."

Godric cast a hex, sending it flying towards the other man. Helga tugged on his sleeve, but he ignored her, focusing his entire attention on the dark wizard. He knew his skill and knew that if he was distracted, they would both die. "No good man enjoys a fight," he snarled, one of his jinxes bouncing off of the dragon's corpse and at the tower, leaving a slimy green mess on the wall.

"Liar," Salazar said, tone becoming slightly more vicious, "You are enjoying this."

Godric's attacks faltered and his eyes widened. Was he? A slow grin spread across his face, and he conceded, "True." He did enjoy a good fight and loved the thrill of battle, but. . . . "I do not enjoy killing."

Salazar grinned. "True," he agreed.

Helga gave a particularly vicious tug on Godric's sleeve, and he snapped his head around. "What?!"

And then an eagle dived out of the sky. Godric and Helga flew apart just in time, avoiding the bird's razor claws. The red-haired warrior instinctively kept both the bird and Salazar in his field of vision, shoving Helga underneath the dragon's wing so that she was out of the way. The young woman exclaimed loudly at that, but he ignored her, shooting a Stunning spell at the eagle, which swerved to avoid it. It was intelligent, then, and not simply enchanted. The eagle swung around behind him, and he turned, shooting another spell. Helga hissed, "The dark wizard!" and Godric whirled around again. Salazar was gone. A blast of light momentarily blinded him and Godric swore; they were outmatched. "Godric."

He turned around to see Helga standing behind him with her wand raised, shielding them both from a particularly strong blast of magic. Rowena! He had forgotten her.

"Godric!"

Something in the grass moved, and Godric shot at it. He felt sick when he realized that it was yet another snake.

"Godric!" Helga insisted, "I am trying to speak with you!"

"I am busy!"

"They are Animagi!"

Godric sucked in his breath, feeling foolish. "I apologize for not listening earlier."

Helga, who was fighting Rowena behind him, muttered, "Yes, precisely. I do not know the spell. . . ?"

"I do." Concentrating, he muttered a spell. His aim was true and it hit the snake sliding through the grass. With a flash, Salazar was lying there. Immediately, Godric Stunned him.

"Salazar!" Rowena's cry was raw, and the witch abruptly stopped fighting, dark blue eyes blazing.

Helga didn't lower her wand, and she shouted, "Drop your wand!"

Godric rushed over to the Stunned wizard, rolling him over and searching his face. Hate glimmered out of pale grey irises, but he wasn't moving. He looked up just as Rowena dropped her wand in the grass, her dark eyes rebellious. But when Helga darted forwards to snatch her wand, she didn't fight back.

A new, grudging respect found its way into Godric's heart. It was obvious that she cared for Salazar, however violent he may be. Helga turned to look at him, a question in her eyes. Ignoring her, Godric asked, expression thoughtful, "Why are you living here, so deep in the woods?"

Rowena let out a low, bitter laugh. "Where else can we live safely, I ask you?"

"If you are talking about the Muggles—" Helga began, gritting her teeth.

The dark-haired witch shook her head, expression resigned. "No. Well, yes . . . and no. We cannot live in the Muggle world safely. We are wizards, for better or for worse."

"Why can you not live among wizardkind?" Godric asked, fearing the answer.

"Why should I tell you?"

The look in her eyes was strangely familiar, but Godric brushed that off, instead looking pointedly at his captive, who was obviously hearing every word and hating it. With a shudder, Rowena jerked the neck of her robes downwards, the dark blue cloth rippling and folding with her movements. Against the pale skin of her shoulder was the symbol of a raptor with its wings raised. Godric sucked in a sharp breath, green eyes widening. He took a physical step away from her, shocked. "Merlin. . . ." he whispered, staring, open-mouthed, at the image. She let go of the cloth, hiding the crest. Because it was a crest. Still shocked, Godric breathed, "Yo–you are a Ravenclaw."

Rowena stared at him, chin raised and defiant. But her eyes were suddenly strangely bright. "Yes," she said coldly, "I am."

She was more than that, however. She was the Ravenclaw.

Helga skipped back a step so that she was next to Godric. "What is a Ravenclaw?" she asked softly.

Godric looked down at his companion. He keat forgetting that she'd been raised among Muggles. "The Ravenclaw Family," he said slowly, "is known as one of the most powerful pureblood families within Europe."

"Is that bad?"

"Helga," he whispered, "They were all supposedly burned to death by unknown factions eighteen years ago. Nobody knows if the murderers were Muggles . . . or wizards." Her pale azure eyes widened and her mouth opened into a tiny o of understanding.

Rowena shouted, "Rennervate!"

A hand abruptly grasped Godric's ankle, and he looked down, shocked. He should have expected her, as a Ravenclaw, to be able to cast a wandless spell, but it was such a rare ability that he'd never taken it into account. Helga let out a scream and Godric grabbed her, leaping away and kicking away the hand that gripped his ankle. Salazar surged to his feet, glaring furiously. Helga was whimpering and, panicked, Godric asked, "What happened?"

"My ankle. . . ."

Salazar advanced mercilessly, eyes blazing, "We cannot let you leave now. Now that you know. We cannot run the risk of you contacting her would-be assassins, now can you?"

Godric stepped in front of Helga and said slowly, vividly green eyes blazing with intensity, "I was there."

Salazar faltered, and Rowena breathed, "Impossible."

Godric shook his mane of red hair, and repeated, "I was there." Everything in the clearing stopped as if it had been frozen. Nobody made a sound. Time itself seemed to stand still. The red-haired warrior looked calmly at the two. "I was there the night they burned the house down." It still gave him nightmares sometimes, and he could still remember every detail of those stunningly bright orange flames outlined against the pitch black sky. He could still remember the overwhelming heat that engulfed the large house, could still remember the terrified screams and the bursts of light. "I saw you. . . ." He could remember a young girl, her figure outlined on the roof. Could remember her running, leaping off of the edge and vanishing into the darkness.

Rowena narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"

A wry smile twisted his lips, and he lowered his head in a mock-bow. "Godric Gryffindor, at your service."

Rowena let out a cry, racing towards him. Her hands travelled across his shoulders, lingering briefly on his cheeks. Dark blue eyes met vivid green and her lips curled into a smile. "Godric?" she breathed, stepping back, "I had forgotten. . . ."

The red-haired warrior engulfed her in a hug. He could still remember the smiling young girl he had played with in the afternoons, still remember her startling spell work and her bright eyes. "Rowena. . . ." He could still remember all those years he'd spent, tracking down anyone with any variations of the name Rowena, and could still remember bitter disappointment after bitter disappointment. Could remember how he had seen so many false Rowenas that he had forgotten the way that Rowena — his Rowena — had once meant the smiling girl with raven hair.

She pulled away, dark blue eyes scrutinizing him. "God," she said wonderingly, "I could not even remember your name. All I knew was Gryffindor. Where did you go after that night? Why were you there? I told you—"

Salazar cleared his throat roughly, and the two looked sheepishly at him. The dark-haired man raised his eyebrows. "Pardon my interruption," he said drily, "but I am still here."

Rowena smiled and went over to him, taking his hands. "My apologies, Salazar." She turned to look at the red-haired warrior. "This is Godric, my childhood friend." She turned back to the grey-eyed wizard. "This is Salazar, the one who found me after that night and saved my life."

They all stared at each other, each with varying degrees of shock, joy, and disgruntlement. It was obvious Salazar didn't like the way this was going and would have preferred to kill them both and get it over with. To Godric's minor annoyance —which he knew was unreasonable —, it wasn't him Rowena was looking at for approval. Her dark eyes searched Salazar's face.

In the end, it was Helga — dear, blessed Helga — who broke the silence. "This is great," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "But can we please stop standing now? I want to heal my ankle."

"Oh! Yes. You have my apologies." Rowena shook her head. "I will go fetch some medicines."

"You have my thanks," Helga said, smiling.

The dark-haired witch turned into a bird and flew up into the open window of the tower above them. Salazar glared darkly at them. "This does not mean I like you," he insisted.

Godric grinned. "Believe me. The feeling is mutual." He turned to attend to Helga.

When Rowena returned, they hadn't killed each other yet. That was a start. But even then, none of them could have possibly foreseen their futures. None of them could have even imagined that their futures would be so impossibly entwined, and that they would withstand all of the trials of life together. None of them would have believed that they would save each other's lives, live each other's dreams, and found a school together. But it all started there, in that clearing, with that battle.

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