A/N: For a writing Contest on hpdotcom that I'm in. Don't worry, I haven't lost my muse for Enemy; yet a any rate.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his world.

Summery: How it happened. How the Founder's Four broke away from each other; how Salazar Slytherin walked away from everything that he had accomplished with Hogwarts and his old friends. A new word is formed, straight from the mouth of the snake.

Word Count: 1369

Snake Diction

"I refuse to allow the blood of a muggle pass onto this castle once more!" The words sounded more hissed than spoken, more like a snake than a man. But then again, Slytherin was more animalistic when angered. And like every animal, he would fight for what was his. Namely, student enrollments. He didn't like muggles; loathed them, actually. He didn't care for their ways of doing things, didn't care for their dubious and ever changing society. He would take magic any day.

With that said, he didn't like their forms of witches and wizards, either. Always gaping like turks in the rain; mouths wide as they practically raped magical objects with their eyes. Filthy muggles; filthy muggle-born's. Most of them came from peasantry homes, their best clothing's that of barely there, dirty tunic. It disgusted him. Even the House-Elves here dressed better than that. But their entire lack of wardrobe was not what he focused on when in abhorrence of muggle-born's, as they were called.

They took away what was left of the magical community. Took away the ancestry that came with the Blood of Pure, slaughtering traditions in the wake of the new generation of muggle-born's. They mocked and tarnished and tainted everything that Salazar held in a high respect, everything that he had been taught to uphold and live by. They tore it all down with their blood and their family and their own livelihood. Even though he had a vast and far expanding vocabulary, Slytherin still couldn't seem to find a word that fit those who were as such.

"It is not your decision to make, Salazar!" A mane of shaggy golden-brown hair swiped around the room as Godric shook his head furiously, temper piqued. The man could be absolutely egocentric, at times. Hogwarts wasn't his to make a sole-based decision on; it was for all four of them to determine what was best for their school! How dare him suggest otherwise? How dare he to say no, because he had a biased opinion of part of the school's population? Salazar was too far gone now though; one could see it in his eyes.

Like rubies, they were. Glowing with the light of a fire of passion; though, in this case, the cause for such was not one that Godric liked. His sable hair was a flurry upon his head, as if the wind from the window had upturned it in his upset state; shaken away because of his rage at being dis-opinioned by his comrades, his companions. For all time, they had once said, shall we be forever united as one under this castle's walls! Nothing shall separate us; we who have built them from the ground upwards; we who have drained ourselves for the knowledge of others. United we shall teach onto them, as we had been taught ourselves, not long ago.

But there was nothing united about the four now.

Helga sat, distressed, in the over-stuffed chair in the corner. Her eyes darted between the two of them as they argued to and fro. Never had she seen them so hateful towards the other, never had they been so odious. She wanted them to stop. Loyal for always, Helga was; she didn't want to be forced to choose a side to stick to. Godric or Salazar? Salazar or Godric? That was not a decision to be taken lightly, under no means.

Couldn't they ever get along? Yes, she told herself, yes, they had once been the best of friends; never arguing with the other, mayhap for the occasional teasings. Always in the others companion, always referring to the other for guidance or help. Never had they been like this. Why could things have stayed the same? Why did change have to be so hard on those so close? Helga nearly burst into tears as Salazar let loose another hiss of defiance at Godric, who in turn roared like a lion. No, they had never been like this before, never. She sat, watching hopelessly as her old comrades fought with one another.

"Those, those . . . Mudbloods have no place in this school!" That was the word. It rolled right off of Salazar's tongue like a natural dispersion of the lips. Godric stopped mid-rant at the word, eyes wide as he stared at Salazar, his old friend. When had their friendship turned to this? This hatred, these loathing, despising insults? He couldn't pin point it exactly, he didn't know when it had happened. HeII, he didn't even realize it was happening before it was too late. Too late. The words rung out in his head, sounding like the change bell in his skull. When had it become too late? Though he had stopped, Salazar had continued on in his rampage against the muggle-born's.

"They are muggles: filthy, undeserving, wretched muggles. So they have a bit of magic in their souls, does that make them greater than all the other impurity out there, in their world? Does that mean that we are better than them?" Yes, yes it did. Thoughts bombarded the dark man's mind as he thought on, words spilling easily from his mouth. "We are! We are greater than they, we have pure blood, whereas they do not! Our powers could wreak havoc upon them, and yet we live in hiding! We dwell in the darkness, as if we were savages in their place!"

His mind was racing; why had he not thought of this before? How could he have not put it together before? Those awful things were not deserving of any schooling. Let them live with their vile families on the farms that many a wizard ruled over; let them have the one world that they grew up in. That's all that they deserved.

He voiced his thoughts to the others in the room.

Conniption set in upon the other Founders. Rowena raged at the pure idiocy of it all. Why should they be denied entrance to hone their talents? Knowledge was power, and power made thine planet spin! Those without knowledge knew nothing. They let a leader take control of their world, and that leader may be the absolute worst for them! Rowena would not let muggle-born's - or mudbloods, as Salazar had called them, she hated this new term - go on helpless in their lives. Without knowledge that was all they were, helpless. Knowing nothing and doing nothing to prevent something that could be potentially disastrous for all. She could never let that happen. Not to wizards and not to muggle-born's.

"You will not say such things about our pupils! They are people, just as you and I, Salazar!" Godric growled out, embers dancing angrily in his own eyes. He had taken it too far, Salazar had. How dare he insult them that way, they were only children! To be based on blood alone? It was uttered about in private conversation before, true, but the golden haired man had never thought his friend to say such a thing. Never Salazar.

A great huff came from the man in the thoughts of the others. He turned on his boot and clacked out of the room, anger tangible in the absolute silence that followed his movements. Where was he going? It was not like Salazar to just up and leave during an argument, twas not his way. He would fight until the other collapsed, either out of weariness or simply exhaustion of the body, and he got his way. But not this time; so where was he going?

"S-Salazar?" Helga whispered as the door slammed, making her flinch involuntarily. The tears finally sprang from her eyes, leaping onto her pale face.

They all felt it; each one of them in a different way. He had left them, left them because he had not gotten his desire. Godric couldn't help but think that Salazar was being egocentric again, bitter at being defied. But there was something else there, something that none of them could quiet explain. Maybe it was the feeling that Salazar had so suddenly stopped that they felt was strange. Or maybe it was the fact that, subconsciously, their magic could not recognize he was anywhere in the castle anymore.