The Burning
by Members of English Elite
Written by Tobias Glass
Betas: Alexia S. Luclwit, ArturoOrcino,
FlooCrookshanks and DearladyFae

London intrigued Rowena, interested Godric and Helga was soon as much as home as if she had lived there her whole life. Salazar hated it. They soon made contact with all of the wizarding families they each knew, and Godric managed to win several bets and arrange them a house in under two weeks of their arrival. "It's damp and mouldy," were the first words Salazar uttered on making his entrance into the house. Godric clapped him on the back. "Nonsense, we'll have this place fit for royalty in under a week!" That night Salazar took a quill and parchment and secluded himself in his 'room'. The bed didn't sit evenly on the floor, and the windows were so dirty that nothing could be seen of the outside. He proceeded to pen down the list of things that needed attention.

Grimy Windows
Pixies in the closets
Snails in the kitchen
Doxies – Everywhere
Nesting Flies upstairs
Spiders – poisonous
Mould on the curtains
Knarls – Must Die
Tub Leaks
Sink's Rusty
Attic Leaks
Stairs creak – Highly Annoying
Bathroom door fell off
Jobberknolls – Good for Potions
Woodlice – Clean Method???
Bundimuns – Floorboard Wrench
Must. Purchase. Darvy. Gnomes. Are. In. The. House!!!
Filthy Floors, I think they are stone or wood under all that.
Dust and more Dust

Salazar paused in his work to rub at his eyes; his vision was blurring from trying to write in the near-darkness. With a 'puff' the lantern went out, and the room was submerged in total darkness.

"Bloody Hell."

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Rowena was up before the sun; attacking the floors with vicious flicks of her wand. A cloud of dirt followed her from room to room and the grime was magically shorn from the woodwork. Behind her the wooden floor could be seen, bright as though freshly cut. Two hours later she banished the mess, now a foot deep, out the door with a hoarse yell. Then, wiping sweat- dampened strands of hair from her face; she entered the kitchen to pour a glass of mead from the keg Godric had managed to obtain. It was lukewarm. She left the glass on the counter with a frown.

This house definitely needed work. She glanced at the window, so indeed buried in slime that it shed not a light. Rowena murmured "Scourgify" and was amazed when the spell had almost no effect. Biting her lip, she yanked the catch and the window crashed open; making the wall shudder. Glass shards tinkled down around her.

"Bloody Hell."

"What happened?" Godric asked, stepping into the kitchen in his nightclothes and dressing gown.

"Look up," Rowena said, waving her hand at the window and dropping into a chair, leaning her head against the wall and jerking away just as quickly. Several tiny ants poured out of a knot in the wood.

"I see," he mused, and then drew his wand, pointing it at the glass- littered floor. "Reparo." The shards levitated, paused as if wondering what to do, and then snapped back into place. Once they were back in place the crack lines didn't vanish.

"That looks oh-so very inconspicuous, Godric," Salazar noted sarcastically from the doorway.

"You do better then," Godric grouched in reply. Salazar flicked out his wand and hissed a spell under his breath. A second later colour began to inch through the different cracks, forming a stained glass window. With a final 'pop' black lead filled the cracks and it looked a lovely window. Colours danced along the now clean floor, and Rowena smiled at him.

"I've always wanted a stained glass window."

"I am glad to oblige, then. Now, I have made a list. I didn't finish it, as the lantern went out and I didn't want to bother with wand light." He dropped a piece of parchment on the table and poured a glass of mead. Rowena had begun reading when he started coughing.

"Warm...mead...Godric, we need provisions and soon." While saying this he went to the front door and sloshed the beverage out on the cobble stones.

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Salazar posted the list—now growing whenever one of them found something amiss—in every room. They crossed out the floors once Godric had polished them with magic and they were the cleanest part of the house. Helga went into the market square to purchase various foods and other items. Salazar sealed up a cabinet and they used it to keep the drinks cold. All was going well until it came around to the cleaning of the doxies.

"So, target-practice, and their bite is poisonous." Godric said, as Helga inched towards the first set of slightly mouldered curtains.

"Exactly," Rowena said, with her wand at the ready. With a sharp jerk Helga shook the curtain and out flew the doxies. Red zaps shot from wands and doxies began to rain upon the floor. Ten minutes later the assault slowed and Godric's laughter filled the room.

"That's great sport; we should save some for future classes!"

"Indeed yes, it's wonderful fun," Helga agreed, polishing her wand with her skirt. Rowena had a wide grin and turned to see Salazar's opinion on the matter but found him with a hand against the wall.

"Salazar, are you well?"

"Yes, but I think I'll step outside for a moment." He gave them a weak smile and left the room.

"What was that all about?" Helga asked; once the door squeaked shut.

"Perhaps he's been bitten!" Godric exclaimed, tearing open the door. They could hear his loud footfalls down the hall and Rowena followed him. They stepped out under a cloudy day and found Salazar much improved from moments before.

"You didn't get bitten, did you?" Rowena asked worriedly, and he shook his head, although he looked puzzled.

"No, they didn't even get near enough to try. It was something else, but I'm alright now. Lunch, anyone?"

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The cleaning, to contradict what Godric had said earlier, made itself difficult on purpose in more forms than just the doxies. Two months into the summer they were still finding things to repair or some magical or non- magical creature to clear out. Towards the end of the summer Godric decided the building wasn't big enough to house as many people as would be attending classes. Into the many spellbooks the four delved, searching for a way to remedy this. Finally; Rowena found it. It bent the laws of nature, and would expand the inside of the house to hold a bigger volume than it would under normal circumstances. So, with such a spell in hand they began to make rooms for the students. They had one side of the house dedicated to the boys, and the other to the girls.

They finished up the rest of the draperies after the second go of Salazar's strange illness. Helga secretly thought him shirking duty, but she didn't mention it. Nothing like it ever happened when he worked on anything else. So the matter was left to rest, and they focused their minds on more important matters. Rowena drew up the lesson plans, setting them at an easy pace. Salazar spent hours in the magical library, finally deciding on a student booklist. Rowena owled the list off after they duplicated it and then they began the countdown.

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It was finally cold enough to start up a fire in the restored fireplace. So once they had a merry blaze going; the four each sat around it in their own armchairs. They sipped hot cocoa and talked of the classes they would begin teaching in two days time. Rowena figured she had to be just about as nervous as the students who would begin arriving tomorrow.

Godric broke the silence, "you know; we haven't named our school. All of the owls we have sent off to parents have no mention of a name."

"Carpe Incantatem Diem," Rowena said softly.

"Seize the Day of Magic & Spells," Salazar echoed, and Helga and Godric leaned forward to gaze at the two of them.

"Perfect, that shall be what we call it then," Helga said and took a sip of her cocoa. The words of the prophecy swirled in Rowena's mind, and she closed her eyes. This would be their greatness; this would be how they made their mark. Teaching the young to use what they were born with, that was their calling.

"You know, we never did get all those spores out from under the rugs in the attic." Salazar muttered. A collective groan followed this statement.

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Rowena was once again up before the sun, but this time it was not of her own will. Knocking sounded on the door and with a barely concealed grin she snatched a robe, tugged it around her nightdress and tore off down the hall, skidding into the parlour to yank open the door.

"Is this the magical school?" asked an older lady. Two children were standing nervously behind her carrying weighty suitcases.

"Yes indeed it is. Welcome, welcome to Carpe Incantatem Diem!" Rowena said, feeling a power and elation from just saying the name of their school.

All day the students arrived. Salazar was up second and proceeded to greet the students in the living room and lay down the rules.

"This is indeed a magical school, we will be doing magic but you may not use what you learn here on outings in London. The muggles fear the unnatural, and will grow suspicious of devilry within these walls. You may use all kinds of spells within these walls, and only within the walls. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Professor Slytherin." Was the chorus, and once outside the room he paused, glancing back unnoticed.

"Professor...Slytherin?" He whispered to himself, and shook his head. This would indeed take some getting used to.

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Godric enjoyed teaching his class from the front of the room, actively participating in his lessons and he loved to make his pupils laugh. His class was by far the loudest, and not a student had negative feelings for the boisterous man. He memorized his lesson plan, gave honest grades and sought to help his students improve the best way he knew how, and that was to make the learning experience fun. In his first week of Transfiguration he had students working on their aim as much as the actual spell. It became a game for his class to do the spell quickest and of the best quality. He awarded sweets to the winner, to push towards perfection.

Rowena's approach was a little different. Just as the other three she saw to her students before anything else, but she would also give hours of her time into helping those perfect new spells. By the end of the week they were racing match boxes in the hall and clacking them down the stairs. She didn't move on until every person had learned the spell selected, and could name its uses and apply it to every day life.

Helga held most of her classes outdoors in the fenced off garden. Students emerged from Botany with filthy hands and smiling faces. They covered all the basic plants, how they grew and all the facts of photosynthesis. Then they went deeper, learning the properties of magical plants and how all of them could be put to use in Salazar's potions class.

Salazar taught a mix of magic, never really settling on just one thing. One week they would do wand-work, next they would be brewing various potions. He was the only Professor they grew to fear, despite the tattered edges of his coats. He didn't fling his hard-earned galleons about on such amenities as nice every-day clothes for the mere logic that in teaching potions they were likely to be ruined before the week was out.

In his second week of teaching, he set in on the banishing spell, Reducto. His best student, Gabriel, was the first to succeed in moving an object with the spell. Salazar, however, was far from satisfied.

"This spell is designed to move an object, any object, from your path. It wasn't created to move a desk, it was created to blow the desk at least ten feet and smash it!"

Gabriel stared at the desk fearfully. "Professor, would that not take a lot of energy?"

"All magic requires energy, but no, not enough so that you would notice it. Watch, he said, and then aimed his wand at the desk. "Reducto!" With a bang the desk slammed down, crashing across the polished wooden floor to end up as smithereens against the wall. Several of the students straightened, having cringed at the noise.

"That is how to do the spell properly." Salazar said; his voice soft once more. His students were wide-eyed, and a few were gazing at their wands. A moment later, Amelia stretched her hand into the air.

"Yes?" Salazar addressed her, and she rose.

"So, just as we can do good with these, we can also do evil? We could really hurt someone with that."

"Indeed yes, and very good observation," noted Salazar, moving to sit on his desk. "We Wizards and Witches are gifted, but in these times of strife with the church we are not seen as such. Magic is outlawed--persecuted even. Never underestimate the world in which you live, where we are hated for what we are. It must remain a secret at all costs. You are here to learn how to use your gift to your benefit...and protect yourselves against those who do not understand.

"I will teach you how to defend yourselves, how to repel the fire of the stake should you be revealed. I never wish to see one of our kind killed for something they were born with. I never again want to see one of our kind bound and dragged from their homes, burned for a gift that others hate for the mere words written in a holy book of a vengeful god."

Salazar looked into the eyes of his students, and there he found resolution, acceptance even, of what they were.

"May I try again, Professor?" Gabriel asked, and Salazar waved him up, repaired the desk and set it before him.

"For all those who hate us!" The boy said, and shouted the spell. The desk didn't only crash to the floor and into the wall, it went halfway through the wall and Salazar gave him a rare smile.

"Excellent work, all of you. Class dismissed, we will continue this tomorrow."

They did indeed continue the lesson the following day and with it being such a potentially dangerous spell, Salazar was soon berating himself when the wall was blown outwards into the street. Rowena and Godric burst into the room, Godric soon cursing. Salazar looked out over the edge as the people standing in the streets halted in their daily activity.

"My apologies! We didn't know quite how unstable this wall was!" He backed away from the edge and the stunned expressions of the passers-by. "Godric, this will have to be repaired by hand!" He hissed, pointing at the gigantic hole, light streaming into the classroom.

"I say we make it a window." Rowena said, and the two turned glares at her.

"What?" She demanded, and Salazar let out a sigh.

"Rowena, if we do so every person who walks by will see what we're really doing!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I grew up in the mountains, far from a Muggle settlement and my whole family was made up of magic-users."

"It matters not, done is done, we'll have to call in a Muggle building mason, I am no good with non-magic repairs," Godric said, running his hand down the side of his auburn beard.

They ended classes early and Godric went out to hunt down their repairman. Rowena explained to the children that not a word of what had really happened or anything out of the ordinary had taken place. She and Salazar donned regular clothing, folding their breeches and robes into a chest and stowing it in a closet to prevent discovery. Helga hadn't bothered with her robes, she didn't favour getting them dirty working in the gardens.

It took a week to repair the wall, and Rowena and Salazar preferred to shut themselves away in their rooms for fear of slipping up on answering the vast amount of questions the Muggles had. Once they were finished with the repairs classes resumed, and London saw its first snowfall of the year. Trips to the market continued, until a younger student brought her wand and hexed a shopkeeper for trifling with her money.

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Rowena awoke to the smell of smoke. When she sat up the smell got stronger, and then she heard the screams.

With her alarm mounting Rowena tore from the bed, not even bothering with a robe to cover her nightdress. She burst into the hall to find thick smoke billowing overhead. The crackling of the flames got louder and Salazar burst out of his room.

"GODRIC! HELGA! FIRE! THE HOUSE IS BURNING!"

Rowena didn't stop to shout the alarm with him; she dashed down the stairs and through the parlour, skidding into the childrens' rooms. Before her all the girls slept, blissfully unaware of the looming danger. Behind her the door slammed open once more, Godric flying in. At the noise of the door hitting the wall several of the girls stirred, waking up.

"The school is burning, hurry; we must get out before the fire overtakes the building!" Godric lifted several of the slower girls from their bed and in a flurry of small feet along with his own thundering footsteps they burst, coughing, out into the street. Rowena stumbled on a burnt-out torch, falling to the cobblestones. She looked over her shoulder and watched as the flames soared skyward. A wordless scream escaped her and she was up, running back into the house. Helga and Salazar emerged with the boys, one boy being carried. Outside the screams got louder, and Rowena heard a joint calling of "burn the witches, burn the witches!"

"Rowena, we have them all, come, let us escape while there is still time!" Salazar coughed and Helga pushed her from behind, and they burst once more into the street. Godric had his wand drawn, glaring at a crowd of people rushing at him, screaming for the stake. Rowena drew her wand from a pocket in her nightgown and screamed out a spell, blasting the people back.

"We must escape, Godric, can you Apparate with the children?"

"I can, but can you three?"

"Yes! We must go, an inn, somewhere far away!" Without fully solidifying a plan, escape the first objective, they gathered their students to them, and disappeared from the square with a loud "BANG".

They didn't make it outside the city, having to extend their magic over their students. They all appeared in a large room at an inn, and their students clung to them, many having lost their wands in the fire. Their wands, the most important possession they could own for being what they were.

Salazar slid aside the draperies, staring out over London. The others joined him, watching the flames climb. Not a word was uttered from them or the students as they watched their dreams fade to ash. Finally when nothing but smoke and a tiny flicker of flame could be seen they backed away from the window, and Salazar let the shade slid closed.

"The prophecy lied, we didn't succeed. Our school burns through ignorant hatred!" he said bitterly, and then swore. Godric rested a hand on his shoulder, and Helga gave one last glance at the closed shade. There was nothing they could do, and so they resigned themselves to a sleep haunted by faceless students burning at the stake.

Dawn broke cold and rainy; quenching whatever there was left of the previous night's blaze. Rowena could still smell the smoke within her nightdress. In the back of her mind the fired reigned supreme, blocking out everything else. She could imagine her books going up in smoke, all her translations nothing more than ashes to blow away on the wind. Everyone had escaped, but none of their things except what they wore had survived.

Now the small band of student and professor alike huddled together in silence. Godric sat in an armchair and mulled over the previous events and Helga comforted their students while the occasional tear trickled down her kind face. Salazar sat by the window, staring out into the darkness where the fires had faded hours ago.

Rowena, chest drawn tight with unshed tears, wrapped herself in blankets and stuffed her face in her pillow. Everything had to come to and end; and they should have known, should have foreseen that such as their dreams were, they could never be reality.

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Dawn found them already shipping their students back to their homes. Rowena wrote the letters explaining the occurrences and a sincere apology to the parents. Salazar stood in silence over her shoulder as she penned each one.

Dear Parents of our Students,

Our first year of teaching a magical school has come to a bitter end. We were somehow discovered by the Muggles, and as you know Witchcraft is an art highly frowned upon. On January 11 the citizens of London sought to burn us out, to kill the witches. We all escaped the fires unscathed, and realized our error.

There could be no way to teaching a magical school in Muggle London. My apologies are deep, for we too have lost much in these fires of ignorance. Perhaps someday Witchcraft and Wizardry will not be frowned upon, perhaps even accepted. Now is not that time, and so I send you back your children. Please explain the importance that they utter naught of what they are or what they learned here to anyone. I cannot urge you to do so enough, for you may not be as lucky to escape the fires of hatred.

Rowena Ravenclaw

Godric purchased a horse from the locale and bid them farewell, expressing his need to check in on his land and errantry. They all knew he left for the grief of a dream scattered, probably never to be pieced back together. Helga left them for her own home the following day, and they bid her a kind farewell.

Then it was just Rowena who did not wish to return to her home and Salazar who had no home. Only a title; and one that held little weight now. Without a word the two once more donned travellers cloaks and staffs, heading off together tied by their love for knowledge, something they could never forsake, although it seemed to have forsaken them.