"The reflecting surface must…'
'Interesting.', muttered Rowena Ravenclaw, glancing at a heavy parchment. 'I wonder whether…Helga!'
Helga got closer with her almost permanent wide smile. Then, two strongly manly voices and a door being banged were heard.
'Yes, Rowena?'
'Do you believe it is possible to…?'
Rowena raised her eyebrow when she realized she was being interrupted by an argument between Godric and Salazar. The tone kept raising and she tried to remember what they had promised her. Oh, yes. 'Young minds to be molded', 'fertile intellectual ground', 'a wizardry community to be nourished by all kinds of ideas', 'a chance to enrich Europe as a whole'…
They had neglected to mention the bad food, the castle coldness, the arrogant students, the insecure ones and, most importantly, they had forgotten to say that the relationship between the two men was a wreck. She had always wondered how they had managed to agree enough in order to convince Helga and her to join them.
Helga, a peaceful and quiet oasis. The one that spent hours persuading brownies to get better care for the students, improving Heating Charms, consoling home-sick students, fixing problems between students… she smiled.
Her life in Hogwarts… Hogwarts? According to Godric, the name came from an adventure-filled night that he and Salazar had shared. Again, the mystery struck her: those two together, plus pigs and warts?
She caught some words of the arguement: 'mudbloods', 'purity', 'last night', 'her'. Something made her think that Salazar meant 'her'. When it came down to it, her parents were two poor peasants that had died before they could see her become who she had become.
Maybe she had the solution in her hands. Yes, but before she had to ask several things to several experts. That Arab crazy old man people had told her about and the witch that lived in a cave in France… or that wizard of the Byzantine court. She also had to get the materials. But where? It was rather obvious that only the best quality ones would work.
She rubbed her hands together and laughed ominously. 'Godric and Salazar shall know my vengeance', she thought to herself. Of course, in that instant, they were too entranced yelling vulgarities at each other and thus didn't even notice the cloud that Destiny had placed above their respective stubborn beings.
Rowena stopped visiting the 'Founder's Room' – as Salazar (and, during his worst grandeur crisis, Godric) called it - for months. Her nights were devoted to research and to correspondence with wise men around the world (from places she didn't even know existed), to reading and rereading ancient parchments, to the decipherment of hieroglyphs and cabalistic symbols. In short, she put all her efforts into the legacy that, unbeknownst to her, would leave a mark in hundreds of Hogwarts alumni.
Rowena came back to the little tapestry-covered room one moonless night. The wind outside raged and the other three were covered in several layers of cloth, sitting near the fire. Rowena's cheeks burned with excitement and she carried a strange bundle in her hands. Only Helga saw her coming, Godric and Salazar too entertained with another round of the 'Yes! No!' game.
She sat by the others, leaving her bundle in front of the fireplace. She silently waited, focusing in the changing shape of the flames. Finally, Godric pointed at the mysterious package with his usual enthusiasm.
'What's that?'
'A simple gift. A simple trinket. It could enhance the bedroom or this Room.'
Godric's eyes were lighted up with innocence and expectation; Salazar's, with greed and curiosity. Rowena waited a few more minutes to get a better effect and then finally showed the trinket: a mirror.
Everyone admired the finesse of the filigrees and arabesques that decorated the frame. The mirror was 'presided' by an almost demonic female figure, surrounded by a sea of silver. The fire made her look almost alive. The silence was broken by Godric. He took it and put it above the chimney.
'It really makes the room look distinguished.' he said.
Helga looked herself and started to arrange her golden curls, flirtatious and amused by the new toy.
'Did you get the idea from that treaty on magical artefacts?', she asked.
Rowena went pale, but she was sheltered by the darkness.
'Yes, but I couldn't manage to turn it into one. It's just a mirror.'
Salazar glanced sideways at her. Rowena knew he was trying to make her nervous, but those snaky eyes would not defeat her. She had to remember to burn the parchment or, at least, turn it into a treaty about abscess healing potions.
'That's strange. I thought Rowena Ravenclaw never admitted defeat.' said Helga, turning around in order to smile at her. 'I shall withdraw to my chambers'.
Rowena seized the chance and joined her, trying to not look suspicious.
She entered her room and sat in her bed, her heart pounding in her chest. Behind curtains that only she could open, the other half of the mirror pair waited. Maybe she should tell her… she shook her head. Helga wouldn't understand.
She drew the curtains and took a deep breath. Her wand touched the mirror and the surface trembled like it was a pond. Godric's face, apparently admiring his own reflection, appeared clear and precise.
'It works', she mumbled.
She hoped to get lucky and find out something more about the puzzle that lay behind Slytherin and Gryffindor. She had never expected to get so lucky.
She could see Salazar's silhouette in the blurry background, getting dangerously close to Godric. A typical discussion followed and Rowena cursed herself. She should've had add sound to her toy.
Nevertheless, the discussion got less and less typical as it went on. Godric was losing control little by little and Salazar spoke less and less. Finally, Salazar tried to leave the room, but Godric went after him and grabbed him by the arm. They continued to argue or so Rowena assumed, who couldn't see too much due to the distance. The further away they got, the less she understood whether that was an arm or… was that Salazar kissing Godric? And that hand was doing what it seemed to be doing?
Her eyes grew wider and wider. Now she understood. Everything was so clear now… but she couldn't be sure. Maybe… maybe the mirror was lying, maybe that never happened, maybe that would never happen again, maybe it had never happened before.
She had to close those curtains but what if she never made sure that she was right? Maybe they knew she was watching. Maybe everything was a joke or a ruse.
Less and less clothing was involved and Rowena's nose was against the cold crystal. 'Cold' only in a figurate sense, of course.
She had, she had to close those curt… invite Helga next time.