Chapter Three

Helga mutely looked at him, stunned. This, she had not expected.

"There is something about me which frightens you, Hel," Salazar

mumbled, stepping closer. "But I do not think it is me, personally. It is

rather a deed, something I have done in my past. Something connected

to lady Ravenclaw."

She backed away from the approaching man as far as she could, finding

herself trapped with her back against the wall in the end. And Salazar

was still approaching. What was he intending to do?

"I'm not afraid!" she shakily protested at the same time as her arms went

up to brace herself against the approaching man.

"Good," Salazar whispered, gently pushing her arms down and away.

Slowly, the wizard's intentions were coming evident, and Helga found

herself feeling more and more divided. One part of her wanted to step

closer and take what Salazar was offering her, another part wanted her

to run far away from him. She ended up not moving at all.

"Do you always to the things which come to your mind without asking

for permission?" she weakly hissed.

His eyes laughed silently at her, yet managing to smoulder at the same

time.

"I want to kiss you," he softly stated, just an inch from her body, from her

lips. "Do I need your permission for such a thing?"

Not quite managing to look defiant, Helga swallowed.

"Yes!"

"Then I will have to make you agree," he teased her, and with that,

Salazar pulled her flush to his hard body, sending tingles all over Helga's

body.

She felt separated from this world, like she was flying as his warm breath

tickled her neck when his hands found the slits ending at her waist and

followed them inside to touch her soft skin. He was winning ground

every minute now, and she could not muster anything to stop him.

When he withdrew his hands from her skin to cup the back of her head

and touch her lips with his fingers, she could do nothing but shiver. He

leaned in to stop just a fraction of an inch from her lips.

"Are you challenging me, Helga? Because I usually win my challenges."

The words broke the bubble she had been in, and suddenly, she was

able to move again. Staring into Salazar's entrancing blue eyes for a

heartbreaking second, she panicked and pushed him away, running as

fast as she could towards the stables. She needed to get away, she

couldn't stay at Hogwarts a minute longer!

Cursing the fact that she had drunken her daily cup of tea already,

making Apparating an impossibility, she grabbed the bridle to her horse

and put it on. Not bothering with a saddle, she then jumped onto the

back of her fox red mare, steering towards the gates in full gallop.

***

It felt like she had ridden for hours when Helga had finally calmed down

enough to examine the issue of Salazar Slytherin. She was attracted to

him, that much she could admit, and it was obvious that he was

attracted to her as well. But there were other things to take into

consideration than attraction. The horrible thing that he had done to

Rowena for one thing. Salazar was ruthless when he truly wanted

something, and he was well known for his dark moods sometimes. Yet,

he was well liked and popular among both wizards and muggles in

their realms. But he was also arrogant, proud and utterly annoying.

Then there was the fact of her own past… Helga shook her head,

steering her horse into the mass of trees that made the forest at one side

of Hogwarts. Far from what many thought, she had not lived the life as a

pampered lady all her life. Nor was she stupid enough to not realize that

her own past's connection with Salazar was the real reason she disliked

him. If he had not done what he'd done, if she had not gone through

what she had, she did not doubt she would have been somewhere

private with Salazar doing unmentionable things right now. But things

were as they were, and she was in no hurry to change them.

Suddenly, her horse reared, catching Helga off guard. Fighting frantically

to stay on the horse, she held on for her dear life as the mare bolted

through the woods. Something had clearly scared the equine, and it

didn't take long for Helga to realize what it was as two riders broke

through the bushes at each side of her. She quickly placed them as the

bandits who roamed the lands close to the sea these times.

"No," she whispered frantically for herself, wishing desperately that she

had not left her staff behind. "I cannot let them take me!"

Urging her horse to run faster, she plastered herself to the mare's back,

as if trying to become one with it. But it was of no use. One of the

strange riders grabbed her flailing reins, and soon, the mare had been

coached into a walk, just as Helga was roughly pushed off her horse,

into the waiting arms of the second bandit.

"En jänta!" one of the men gleefully said in a different yet so familiar

language to Helga. "Hon kommer att ge oss mycket nöje!"

Helga glared helplessly at the men who held her trapped. Vikings, it had

to be Vikings. And she had thought she was in trouble before. Anxiously

holding her robe together by the neck so it would not show her

shoulder, a wave of memories she thought she had been able to forget

swam to the surface.

Sitting in the mud with the other bondsmen, Helga scared looked at the

men who had brought her from the relative safety of jarl Arnvidh's lands,

from her parents and siblings to this strange, new land where the sun

never shone and the mist lay thick over barren moors. She did not know

what to expect, would she and the other bondsmen be sent to a new

jarl, or would she be herded onboard the ship again? She hoped not.

The journey here had been terrible. The food had been sparse, and the

water supply had gone over board at an early stage of the trip. And

when the ship was full with warrior and bondsmen, it was the

bondsmen who had to thirst and hunger. Where she before only had

been able to feel healthy flesh, she could now count her ribs. It had not

been a pleasant trip, especially not for a young girl like her. If she had

been a virgin at the beginning of the trip, she would not have been one

now, but thankfully enough, that problem had been taken care of long

before that. Others had not been that happy though.

Pulling her fingers through the dirty tresses of her light blonde hair, she

looked at the swollen, red mark on her left shoulder where they had

burned the mark of jarl Arnvidh in when she was only a few years old.

Would she get a matching scar now? She did not have the time to

ponder as one of the warrior came over to haul her to the jarl himself.

"Here's the girl," he said in a language unknown to her. "Bring the gold."

A small pouch was handed over to the beard clad man, and the warrior

holding Helga roughly shoved her over into the hands of a woman

dressed in the finest cloths Helga had ever seen. Then the woman spoke

to her in the language of her homeland.

"Come here, child," she beckoned with a thick but understandable

accent. "You are safe now. I'm Brigit Hufflepuff. What is your name?"

Helga looked down.

"Helga," she softly whispered.

Once again, Helga had been sold.

Trembling from the terrible memories, Helga found herself getting more

and more scared. What was she to do I she was taken as a

bondswoman again? She could not go back to living as a pig again, she

could not!

The men hustled her to her feet and started pawing at her despite her

attempts to fight her. While she was a good fighter with her staff, there

was not much she could do off balance and unarmed against two 7 feet

Vikings with swords. And so, it was unavoidable for them to notice the

white scarring on her shoulder she had never healed.

"She's a bondswoman!" one of them exclaimed. "One of jarl Arnvidh's

brats it seems. He will reward us greatly if we bring her to him. They

must have…"

He did not get any further as a sword suddenly protruded from his

chest. Then he fell forwards to reveal Salazar's furious form behind him.

Helga sank to the ground again, too emotionally exhausted to do

anything but stare as Salazar beheaded the second Viking. When he

came over to her, kneeling at her side, she simply looked at him, her eyes

empty. She couldn't feel, couldn't speak. Then she broke down.

She had no memory of the coming hour but soft words, gentle hands

and safe arms holding her close to a beating heart as she cried, sobbed

herself to sleep.

***

When she came to, the first thing Helga realized was that she was in her

own bed, covered by soft covers, a soft hand petting her hair.

Remembering what had happened, she tried to move, letting out a

moan as she found herself bruised from the fall from the horse. The

moan alerted her companion to her consciousness, and the hand

stopped moving.

"Hel?" the pearly, soft voice belonging to Rowena softly asked. "You are

awake?"

Helga opened her eyes and carefully shifted her body so she could look

at Rowena.

"Aye, I am awake," she softly answered. "What has happened, how

come I am here at Hogwarts?"

Rowena looked at her, compassion in her eyes and touch. The woman

conjured a cup with water for her and handed it to Helga, who

thankfully drank it.

"Salazar brought you here," she explained, a slight touch of reproach in

her voice. "He told Godric and me of the villains. Why did you do such a

foolish thing as ride into the woods without your staff after drinking your

tea, Helga?"

Helga looked down, not sure how to answer the question. Not sure if

she wanted to answer the question. Rowena seemed to realize this and

sighed, touching Helga's hand with hers.

"I will go now," she gently told her friend. "Salazar requested to meet you

as soon as you were awake."

Alarmed, Helga looked up, but Rowena was already out of her quarters.

And in her stead, Salazar slipped in, a grave expression on his face as he

looked at her. He looked none too pleased, and Helga could certainly

understand that. First she had fled his questions in the garden, then she

had risked her life in the forest in a move so stupid that she had to admit

herself ashamed.

"Helga," he tonelessly stated. "Rowena said to me you had awaken from

your sleep."

Helga did not reply, just looked at the wall behind him. She did not want

to meet his eyes, she knew that they would be full of disappointment,

anger, blame. Not to mention questions. And he was fully justified.

"You forgot this in the gardens," he continued, flinging the staff at her,

Helga catching it deftly without looking.

The silence was heavy for the next couple of seconds until Salazar

heaved a deep sigh, walking over to sit at her bedside. There, he looked

at her, his eyes serious on her face.

"You could have died, Helga," he quietly said. "I may have sealed a treaty

of peace with the chiefs of the Vikings, but there are always deserters.

Those woods are dangerous enough with a wand, and you went there

without both magic and staff. Do I frighten and repel you so much that

you do not care for your own safety when running away? Am I that

horrible?"

She did not answer, just turned on her side and continued looking away

from him. Those were questions she could not answer, just as she could

not stand to look at him after her stupidity. Salazar sighed again and

rose, hand stroking her cheek fleetingly before disappearing. Hearing

steps disappear over the floor, Helga relaxed only to tense up again

when he spoke before leaving her room.

"Just ask yourself this," he softly asked her. "Is it me or yourself you are

afraid of?"