Salazar the Shrewd, of Fen

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There was a small informal tournament in Fen that year, open to all regardless of age and status. Godric entered, confident that he could effortlessly take his first opponent. He had been watching the sullen boy practice on the hay dummies in the practice ring, and knew that while he had a few years and almost a head in height on Godric, he bandied his sword as though it were a salmon.

The match was over in a matter of minutes. The boy, who he later learned was named Salazar, had waved is sword about, and Godric had stepped forward without difficulty. His own sword was in position to miss the amateur's move and put the boy at his mercy, but at the last moment Godric's weapon glanced off Salazar in a way that mystified him. He tried again and then once more to find an impenetrable barrier that seemed to follow his dastardly opponent. The taller boy claimed the victory with one more fumbled swipe at Godric.

Within minutes after the match was called, Godric found the boy and cornered him behind the loud clanking of the Blacksmith's forge. This boy had not only used magic to claim prizes that he had not skillfully won, but he was a wizard, and this fact along was enough to take him before the Lord of Fen, and have him hung by his neck before all until dead.

Salazar did not take well to the accusation or the threat posed unless he returned his winnings. He did not wish to die at fifteen. Salazar Slytherin had lived his entire life under the heel of muggles-nearly all of his remaining family had gone the way of the hangman when the harvest hadn't gone as planned or someone's bloody cow got tipped. But he was smarter, superior. Salazar had plans. He was going to be the first Slytherin in the past hundred years to travel past the border of Fen. He was going to make himself known. Just as soon as he had enough gold put by to sustain his family over his absence.

Punches were thrown by both the boys, until Slytherin pulled a gnarled twig from his back pocket and shot a hex at Gryffindor. Enraged, Godric's untamed magic caused the hex to rebound, hitting a small sapling that accordingly grew feathers. It is impossible to say which of the two was more appalled at the understanding that they were both wizards. Godric's pride was sorely bruised. He had cheated using magic, and had been found a hypocrite, putting himself in the same position to be tried for witchcraft as the boy he had just accused.

Salazar had never considered the existence of magic outside of Fen. It was a small, isolated collection of farmers, and the Slytherins were not the only family firmly rooted and unused to travel. The town was one intersection of roads with a few shops, a church and other necessities. It had always been a great point of worth to Salazar that not only did the 'magic' that these peasants fears so much existed, but that it existed in his bloodline.

Once the two realized they met on equal terms, the fighting ceased. There was a strange bond of fascination between the two, and after a burst of laughter all thought of denouncing the other for witchcraft was forgotten. In a week the knights left for the North with the promise to return for the annual tournament, and Godric carried his first wand. It had been made by the oldest member of the Slytherin clan, from the wood of the feathered sapling with a core of dragon heartstring.