Chapter 7

Warding was exhausting business, but even Salazar had to admit that maybe this was a task for more than one Spellweaver, at least if he wanted to finish it quickly. It wasn't like he had unlimited time here, the two women were not all that overjoyed at his presence as it was… And speaking of the two female residents of the school, Lady Ravenclaw was watching him with hawk-like intensity as he carefully stretched out his magic, tapping into the wards of Hogwarts for the third time in as many days. As he did, he was careful to not disturb the offensive magic intertwined in the wards, and he slipped his consciousness into the weaves of power with a magical touch so light and precise that none of the wards were triggered the moment he took control.

Immediately, the sheer magnitude and power of the magic that had been poured into the wards rushed into him, threatening to overcome him as he flexed his not inconsiderable power to keep the magic of three other people, accumulated over the time of months, at bay. It was painful, and he could already feel the drain on his own magic as he started to unravel and reweave parts of the wards as they had agreed that morning. Ravenclaw was keeping tabs on his progress, checking if he wasn't making any changes she didn't want, and he was very careful not to give himself away as he included his own magical signature to the exceptions of the part of the ward that prevented unauthorized travel to and from the castle.

He was already breathing harder by the time he was done with that, but the exhaustion wasn't yet at the point where weaving would be dangerous, so he continued without pause as he added several reinforcements and guards against particular brands of Dark magic the three Light wizards probably hadn't even heard of. Light wizards were inclined to ignore parts of magic they didn't want to deal with or were afraid of, something he had never really understood. Not knowing something didn't make it any less real… another reason why Hogwarts sorely needed to add Dark magic to the curriculum…

Salazar lost himself to the weaving of the intricate wards for what had to be several hours, in which Ravenclaw never left him even for a second. Her presence lingered at the edges of his awareness as she observed him in silence. Which was somewhat amusing, as there was no way she would be able to see anything he was doing if he didn't want her to. But of course, she didn't need to know that…

By the time he drew away from the weaving, he found that sometime during those past hours, he had sat down with his back against the column containing the Warding Stone… Huh… He didn't remember sitting down, but judging from the stiffness in his limbs, he'd been seated for a reasonable span of time.

He blinked slowly, bracing himself for the pain that was about to break through the exhaustion as he uncurled from his cross legged position, and he couldn't keep a pained gasp from forcing itself past his lips as it did. He was used to this, but that didn't make it any easier or less painful, and he closed his eyes again as he felt Ravenclaw kneel at his side. Yes, it was undignified, but God help him, the agony was grueling… His back and shoulder were burning, and his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. This was what warding on this scale cost him, and he had known it beforehand, but Hell… Godric owed him for this.

He pushed himself to a sitting position under his own power, and looked up at the woman who was still watching him with quiet intent. And he was surprised to see a glint of worry in that flinty blue gaze, but it was quickly hidden and buried beneath the more familiar expression of cold disinterest. "Can you stand?" It took a moment for his mind to make sense of the words, but then he released a breathy chuckle as he shook his head, instantly regretting the motion as his vision went white at the stab of pain that shot through his skull at the small gesture. "Give me a moment." He cursed softly under his breath as he used the wall to get to his feet, and he had to take several minutes to steady himself before he trusted his legs to not give away were he to try moving. All the while, Ravenclaw watched him in silence, and he was glad for her indifference. He didn't feel like dealing with her nonsense right then.

Still holding onto the wall, he slowly followed her as she started to lead him back into the main part of the castle, and away from the Warding Stone which lay at the foundation of the school. It was a good place for such a crucial element, well hidden and very hard to reach if anyone was trying to stop you from reaching it. Unfortunately, it was also quite a ways away from the guest room he now occupied…

He sighed, halting for a moment as his shoulder seized up, and his hands shook even as he fought the sensation as another lance of fierce pain shot up his arm, and he closed his eyes as the world lurched beneath him. He swallowed, tasting bile, and tried to slow his breathing which was starting to sound more and more erratic and shallow, even to his own ears. There was no way he was going to make it back by himself. Damnit all straight to Hell… this was only magical exhaustion, combined with that damnable pain, nothing more than that… He just needed a moment to rest… He leaned into the wall, resting his cheek against the cool stone as he waited for that sick feeling to pass, and for the pain to fade if only slightly.

Somewhere, as if coming from a great distance, he could hear Lady Ravenclaw's voice. But he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and reply as he sucked air into his lungs in short gasps. He loathed this, loathed how weak and vulnerable it made him feel, but he had been pushing himself, and as a result, the wards were nearly done, at least as far as he was concerned. If it were up to him, he would be gone from here within another few days, when he'd had some time to regain his strength and recover from what had to have been his most difficult Warding to date.

No one had ever said Warding was an easy job, certainly not on this scale… but it was hard for him to accept the state it left him in, regardless of how it would have probably simply killed most wizards.

The edges of his vision were going grey by the time he realized someone else was calling his name now, a male voice, and the last thing he knew was the feeling of familiar calloused hands on his face as slipped into unconsciousness.