I'm not really sure where this came from… but I've always wondered who Helena Ravenclaw (aka the Grey Lady)'s father was, so this was born. I hope that it doesn't seem too far-fetched…
Also, I'm sorry that I haven't updated some of my multi-chaptered fanfictions in a while. I will not abandon them, I promise! They're just taking awhile to write, especially since my life had been really busy recently. I'm writing this while I should be practicing my clarinet for orchestra practice tomorrow, so…
In case you're wondering, this is just a quick one-shot, and I will probably not add anything else to it.
Favorite and review, please! Hearing from my readers really warms my heart.
Disclaimer- All characters and settings belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm just fritzing around in her wonderful world.
Helga Hufflepuff smooths her friend's damp dark hair, whispering soothingly. "Hush, it will be alright… hush, now…"
It is a rare moment, Helga thinks; the moments in which the normally intimidating witch laying in front of her was weak were few. But Rowena deserves a moment of rest. Despite never having children of her own, Helga knows better than anyone that childbirth is not easy; she had delivered a countless number of children for the women in the village. After all, her extremely expansive knowledge of healing potions and herbs meant that the childbirths she oversaw rarely resulted in fatalities.
The lovely auburn-haired witch gazes sadly at her now lightly slumbering friend, then back at Rowena's newborn child in her arms. This was quite a mess that they had landed themselves in, she muses. He had always been a sort of fanatic, but back then, Helga had merely passed it by as inconsequential- everyone had weaknesses, after all- and brushed it aside. If all those years ago, Helga had known that this is what would have resulted from his so-called inconsequential fanaticism…
But nearly a year ago, in the vast library of Hogwarts, just several levels under Helga's feet now…
She can still remember it clearly- the shouting from all four parties involved, Godric drawing his sword, Rowena screaming, the slam of the door that had never sounded as loud as it did then as he stormed out…
That day had been one of the most horrible of her life. They had all come out with cuts and scrapes, bent and broken trust, and worst of all- bruised hearts.
That night had been the first time she had heard Rowena cry.
Helga had been surprised to hear the gentle sobbing of her friend. She had thought that Rowena would be more angry than sad, considering her temperament. But she had gotten the answer several weeks later- the answer that both Godric and her had been surprised to hear, despite their proximity to Rowena- when the intelligent witch had fainted in one of her classes, then had been too sick that night to come to dinner, and then, after persistent inquisition about her health, had revealed that she was not really sick at all. It had been-
"It was you, wasn't it?" Helga croons at the infant in her arms, smiling wistfully. "We were so worried about your mother- but it was all you."
Helga doesn't know how long she sits there, buried in memories, until her friend finally wakes up.
"H- Helga?" Rowena croaks, eyes blearily half-opened.
Helga smiles lovingly at her friend. "Congratulations, my dear." She holds out the small bundle to Rowena. "A healthy baby girl."
Rowena genuinely smiles for the first time in a long time- the type of smile that reaches one's eyes; the type of smile that makes one's whole face look brighter- and Helga's heart jumps when she sees it. For several moments, both women sit there, soaking in the moment, before Helga asks- "What is her name, Rowena?"
Rowena doesn't hesitate for a moment, just like the old Rowena would have, before answering. "Helena. Helena Ravenclaw."
Helga beams. "Beautiful."
Rowena looks at her earnestly. "After you."
Her friend gasps. "Thank you! It- it means a lot to me, really-"
"I could never have gotten past the last year without you, Helga; you deserve it."
The head of Hufflepuff reaches towards the baby- no- Helena- tenderly and smoothes back the blanket, smiling.
Suddenly, as if responding to the touch, Helena opens her eyes for the first time, and Helga gasps. Helena's eyes. They're his.
Rowena sees the shining green orbs too, and both women look at each other, the moment taking a noticeably dark turn. Rowena's eyes are sad again, like they've been for the past year since he left.
Helga swallows. "Do- Do you want to write him?"
Rowena's face closes. "No. When he left here, he broke our relationship. I am not his lover anymore. Helena is not his daughter. She will carry my surname, not his."
Helga can't see the logic in this decision; severing all contact is only going to hurt both mother and child, and the worst thing that could happen if they did write is that the owl could come back empty-clawed. But Helga has always been the forgiving sort, she thinks. Merlin knows that despite their love for each other, forgiveness between her best friend and him would be miraculous.
She takes a deep breath, then kisses Rowena's cheek, before pulling back to look at the head of Ravenclaw's cold face sadly. "Alright."
For several moments there, Helga had thought that she had gotten the old Rowena Ravenclaw back; the Rowena Helga had known before he had stormed out of Hogwarts in a fury and left her broken. But now Helga can see that no matter what happens, the scars that he had left on Rowena's heart and soul would never really fade.
Curse you. Curse you, Salazar Slytherin, for breaking her heart.