It was the beginning once. Before any of this happened, before we found that castle, before everything went wrong there was a beginning, a time when anything can happen.
I've always loved that fresh sheet
Salazar was never much for beginnings; I'm smiling now as I did then when I told him about it for the first time. I still do at the memories.
"What's the point of liking starting something?" he had asked frustrated.
"What's the point of liking anything?" I retorted lazily, eyes intent on the first page of my book.
He ignored me as he always did whenever one of us said something he didn't agree with. "But you have so much still to do. At the end you've finished."
"Extraordinary observation," I drawled, hoping he'd go away.
He laughed; obviously surprised I had made a joke… of sorts anyway. "When you travel somewhere its because you want to get somewhere, not because you enjoy packing."
I put the book down on the table. He was not going to just give up and go away, this time or indeed ever. "Can't you just enjoy the journey?" An eyebrow arched. "Some people walk for fun, you know?"
He looked genuinely surprised, and slightly confused as if the argument he was so enjoying standing upon had been yanked rudely from under his feet, leaving him uncertain and trembling, like a table cloth pulled from the top of a table by an amateur slight of hand artist. "Muggles right?" he tried still looking wary. I decided not to tell him I used to walk five miles every morning before he was awake. "Yes."
He tried not to look triumphant but he has never been very good at it and you could see him relaxing, a smile forming over his handsome features. "Well that settles it," he declared proudly. "Muggles don't know how to apparate."
I rolled my eyes. "Two in one conversation, Salazar. I am amazed with your brilliance."
"If they knew how to apparate," he insisted, "they wouldn't like walking."
"Whatever you say, dear."
"I'm glad we finally understand each other."
"Yes I am too." I picked up the book again, fingers revelling in the soft leather and tried to concentrate. It was only after I'd managed to read the first sentence five times without noticing that I slammed it back on the tabletop. "I thought you said you were going."
"I didn't. You must be imagining things." His chin resting on his arms he continued staring at me glaring at him, piercing blue eyes sparkling with what might have been amusement. "Wishful thinking perhaps."
"Well will you go away?"
"If you come with me."
I glared at him: that's not the point. "I'm trying to read."
"I could tell you the ending if you like. It's not very good. You see what happens is…"
My wand lay by the discarded book. "Silencio." A slight grin sparked across my face as he fell speechless. "Please don't."
I stared pointedly at the page in front of me but somehow the bursts of fireworks behind my ears proved to be more distracting than I had anticipated. He couldn't remove the spell, which requires a voice but there were plenty of others that could and did fizzle round the room. A large number of bookcases suddenly ceased being shelves and several flamingos swarmed around me. I whirled, trying to keep up with the brightly coloured birds, turning them back into bookcases as fast as possible but for each that reappeared [yards from its proper place] Salazar had transfigured another twelve. An invisible orchestra struck up a tango. He had disappeared.
Sometimes I forget Salazar Slytherin is one of the most powerful wizards in the world. Or rather, sometimes I used to forget. Perhaps that's why I prefer beginnings when you've got nothing but hope than at the end when you've nothing but regrets.
There is so much that I regret about what happened to the man who's eyes used to laugh, who argued for hours after he'd lost, who used to breathe next to me in the night.
"Come out and fight me you cowardly snake!" I shouted, turning three elephants back into tables, book forgotten on the floor.
Golden words unfurled in the air. Not until you give me my voice back.
"Missing the sound of it already?"
Yes.
"I would have thought it was a relief."
One of the remaining elephants charged through the library door, it turned back into a table and a man who hadn't considered all the consequences of the transfiguration clambered over it. I didn't notice for a while, still dancing in the fireworks.
"What's going on in here?" Godric demanded in a tone that was supposed to be serious but that laughed quietly along with us and I stopped dancing and tried to look repentant.
In the beginning the female students used to sigh in anguish when Salazar stopped outside my classroom, just to say hello. People used to tell me how lucky I was to be with him. After he left they asked why I hadn't chosen Godric instead. Nobody ever asked if I loved him.
I'm glad they didn't.
The tango stopped. The golden letters reappeared. She stole my voice.
"So you turned the furniture into animals?" Gryffindor asked, his voice amused.
It seemed the logical thing to do at the time.
He laughed the loud booming laugh that made you want to grin along with him and the flamingos turned sulkily back into bookcases.
"Put them back where they were."
My voice.
I flicked my wand.
I'm not smiling any more. It always fades along with the memory. The quill in my hand is shaking, the other hand tenses black stained fingertips closing in my curls, ink running, blue tear trails across the page as I reread what I've written.
I've started in the middle though, its too late to change it now, the words will not be unwritten. I could screw the paper into a ball and throw it across the room but now its done it feels right.
I think its time for the opening scene at last though.
In the beginning…
