She couldn't remember how many times she'd seen him like this, silently brooding with his back to her, to the world, staring into the bruised, pre-dark sky. But now they were under no stars, no pinpricks of light shining merrily above them, no crescent moon hanging limply in the heavens.
Now a vaulted ceiling rose ominously, claustrophobically above them, the stale air almost impossible to breathe comfortably.
A vast magnitude of questions rose and frantically beat at her weary mind like caged butterflies, though she quelled them all, allowing only one to surface.
"Why?" Ravenclaw asked, choking out the hateful word forlornly.
Slytherin turned around slowly, tearing his gaze away from the giant wall of stone looming before him. His face was an impassive mask, his dark eyes hiding all emotions.
He was too cold and aloof, seemingly no more alive or real than those of the serpentine statues surrounding them.
"Because they'll be our downfall. The muggle-borns will have, already have told their families about us, who in turn will relay the knowledge to their communities. Can you imagine, Rowena? The filthy scum practically raping our castle, tearing down everything we've striven to build and protect!" His voice rose, his eyes alighting like a madman.
"Salazar, but to go so far as to kill a student? That goes against all our ideals, everything. How can you be so proud of such a heinous act?" she breathed, standing with her head held high proudly, like a frosty and righteous valkyrie queen.
"To kill a student?" he echoed disbelievingly, "That was a mistake. You know the reason I created this Chamber of the Guardian. It will uphold its name; to protect this school!" Salazar denied flatly, conviction rolling off him in waves.
"Then why unleash the Basilisk? Hogwarts was under attack by no one but you! All the children fear you. I do not know you. We do not know you. When did you change?"
"I never changed! Perhaps you blocked what you did not want to see! Or," he narrowed his eyes, gazing at her scathingly, "you were drawn to the 'darker' side of life." Slytherin gave a hollow laugh, filled with malevolence and sounding completely alien.
Rowena's heartstrings wrenched painfully, and she angrily wiped the salty tears trailing down her once rosy cheeks. Slytherin's countenance softened, and he outstretched a hand as if to wipe away her troubles, but he was at the other end of the Chamber, too far gone to help.
"If that is true, then I have seen the light." Rowena clasped her hands together, her nimble, frozen fingers grazing stiffly against one another.
A silence engulfed them, -the faint sound of dripping water, the loud beating of her heart, the clack of Slytherin's polished leather boots as he rushed to her- and she felt her emotions float gently out of her body, leaving her staring at him numbly like an empty husk.
When Salazar reached her, -one arm wrapped around her tightly, the other reaching to tenderly, gingerly brush away the sticky remnants of her tears- Rowena's feelings came rushing back.
Sorrow, betrayal, bitterness, anger.
Bitterness.
Anger.
Wrenching her body away from him, she fixed Slytherin with a spiteful glare.
"You are a traitor to all our values, all our efforts, everything! We've poured our souls into this castle. I'm afraid you've let too much of yours flow in; you have nothing left."
Slytherin's jaw clenched, and his hands curled into white knuckled fists, twitching to draw his wand. His handsome face contorted into an unrecognizable mix of rage and remorse, knowing all too well it was too late to go back.
He'd tainted them all.
"I'm disheartened to know you think that. And yes, I still have a heart." He laughed resentfully. "But it appears to have been frozen over. Not even you can thaw it."
Rowena reeled, as if struck by a forceful blow.
He did not love her.
Salazar did not love her.
And she did not love Salazar.
Did she ever?
Once, she did, during those sweet nights when the air breathed exotic incense and the intoxicating and lustful scent of musk permeating the lacy chiffon curtains, or when in the cold winters he would hold her, his warm body shielding her from the harsh, icy winds.
Or even at the simplest times when he gazed at her adoringly, when Godric raised a toast to the giddy lovers, when Helga giggled with her about the all-important details…
She loved him once.
"I have no wish to thaw it." Rowena said disdainfully, drawing herself up regally.
"You are too kind." Salazar swept into an elegant mock bow, emphasizing the action to artfully distort it into a ridiculing attempt at chivalry, reminding Rowena with a pang of Godric.
Godric, noble Godric.
His eyes glazed since his argument with Slytherin. A ruthless battle was a better way to describe it.
Helga herself, always the mediator, attempted to resolve the situation, but to no avail. She tended to Gryffindor's wounds as Salazar slunk off to the Chamber.
More than a month had passed since that eventful encounter, and all contact between the two men had completely evaporated.
"So this is goodbye." Rowena remarked wistfully.
"What else could it be?" This was said with no sarcasm, no thick coating of hate. Slytherin inclined his head thoughtfully, before turning back the massive bearded statue of his father, the very man who brought Salazar up with these prejudicial views.
"When will you leave?" She asked quietly, pleased that he turned away, so she could be left to peacefully allow fresh tears to stream down the drying trails on her angular face.
"Soon." He said cryptically. "I would like one last look at this hallowed place. Or rather, what it used to mean to me." He added.
"Farewell, Salazar." Rowena said, turning away.
"Farewell, Rowena, my heart."
He was too far gone.