Four

Summary: One school, Two deaths, Three comings of age, and the Four teachers that started it all. Return to Hogwarts at the turn of the eleventh century to discover what really happened to the four founders.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all of the characters that sound familiar, and quite a few of them that don't. I don't plan on using this story for money or anything else that might be of value, except for constructive criticism.

Prologue

December 25, 1020 A.D

I should have seen the signs earlier. I should have known, that day the older Slytherins were chasing that sorry-looking ferret, that the rodent was a terrified eleven-year-old Gryffindor. I should have guessed that although Godric loved Salazar as a brother, what Salazar felt for Godric was twisted in malice and discontent. I was stupid not to see-- Rowena the Clever, they called me-- but only after Salazar was revealed did I understand that our school, which was designed for all to learn without prejudice or magical background, was flawed because of the teachers that had poured their souls into it.

We were tied to the school, even before we called forth Hogwarts, the stones that were the vessel for our tutorial ways. Hogwarts was simply the joining, the realization, of the four of us in material and in kinetic magical energy. Our castle was an outpouring of magic that we were bound to-- that castle was a lord that we had fiefed our life energy to. When we die, our energy goes to the castle to sustain itself. No other object had been so legally binding, and I doubt another will come to pass. In essence, what we did was send our souls straight to hell or heaven in exchange for this castle to live on as our heritage, our legacy. No ghosts, no supernatural longevity, just straight on up, or down.

I know that Salazar is heading down.

And my soul will join his in the end.

But that is the end of the long journey we four have taken. I'd better start at the beginning, to reach the end with a better sense of the direction I came from, and the direction I am heading.

Where to begin, of course, is up for debate. Salazar would have it begin in his castle, which was the genesis of our school. It is a logical place to start, but Salazar is not writing this. We had many early successes there, in the dankest and the brightest of places, and not all successes were for the good of wizarding kind. These "happy" experiments included all sorts of spells, potions, and curses, but the most notable success was not one of Salazar's alone. For nearly a year, we worked in harmony with each other. Our first students prospered under the care of communicating, open teachers, flexible in the midst of chaos, amiable and joyful in attaining our common goals. To me, that is the only thing worth mentioning in the history books about that period-- "December to December, the years of our Lord, 1006-1007-- Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor worked together as teachers and as friends."

This is not how it begins, although it should be mentioned as part and parcel of the Founders legacy.

Godric would begin with a thoroughly rousing account of his accomplishments-- a catalogue means to impress the unwary into thinking, "What a swell guy he is! He vanquished X and rescued Y, all while Z was happening..." Godric is completely full of himself and prefers his students to be either astounded by his many deeds, or preparing ostentatious lists of their own. On top of this appalling self-absorption, his beginning would consist of adventures told in first person that should be told in third person. He especially loved stealing the fire and brimstone from Merlin and feeding it back to his students on his own style. That is Godric Gilderoy Gryffindor for you.

My story would begin with the establishment of Hogwarts. Such a monumental feat it was-- filled with ghouls and surprises and exorbitant towers that are not stable enough to house youngsters and all of their possessions, but do manage it. Hogwarts is an architectural nightmare and a masterpiece all in one... Take my Room of Requirement, which becomes whatever is needed by the seeker. Even Godric's damnable moving stairs and trick steps would boggle the minds of Muggle architects, who still have trouble making vaulted ceilings. The Ollivander twin who went into wizarding architecture, rather than wand-making, was amazed and more than slightly disturbed at the amount of life-force we had dedicated to our home and heritage.

As I said, my story would begin with Hogwarts, if I chose to begin it my way. In deference to Helga Hufflepuff, I must start it her way. I owe her so much, but I can't begin to pay it back.

Godric calls it my "strange path to redemption," and I fear that he's right. Redemption is always a strange path, no matter which way you walk it, and mine is no exception.

I will start with the kids, all of Helga's darlings, because they are first and foremost in everything she does. While Salazar, Godric and I were arguing over politics and diplomacy, Helga was helping the children, being a maternal and a disciplinary figure, but also giving them her love, while the rest of us were being adults.

I still can't believe we said those things to each other, at the end...

But I digress. Let us start at the beginning, the way Helga would have it.