Uberlot: Thanks  I do like your story, by the way.

Julia: Yay. As I always say, good comes out of spiked provisions.

This was originally going to be a one shot, but I decided I'm going to make "A series of Random Happenings". Like before, don't expect me to have any deep meaningful plotlines in this. The first story was written late at night having consumed a suspected spiked birthday cake at a party, this time I'm just bored, and when I get bored I get weird. Enjoy chapter two. It's (if you haven't guessed by the second line) based a thousand or so years ago with the four founders of Hogwarts. Basically this is poking fun at them because I'm jaded. Hey- (looks up)- my A/N is almost longer than my story! Yay! Now for a disclaimer!

Disclaimer: I can't say that I own this story, or the characters, because the Warner Bros. were upset with me when I pretended I did. This applies to chapter one because I forgot.

"Come on, Sal, tell me where it is."

Salazar stuck out his tongue childishly. "Not 'til you throw out the Muggles."

"They're not Muggles- they're born of Muggles, but they're just as good as everyone else."

"No no no no no!" Salazar replied, "Not listening! Lalalalala!" He stuck his hands over his ears.

"Maybe when your Immaturifyingness charm wears off tomorrow you'll come round," Godric sighed.

"I didn't mean to, Godric," Helga said touchily, "I was trying to cut his hair. Are you sure you won't let me try again?"

"We're sure," reproved Rowena, looking up for the first time in an hour from her thick book.

"Just because YOU'RE smart," snapped Helga, albeit fairly pleasantly, "We're not all geniuses."

"Back to the point," lisped Salazar like a toddler, "Sal no like Muggles. Sal say get stuffed!"

"Watch your language, sweetie," said Helga, "Anyway, it's two years tomorrow when I did that charm, you'll see sense in the morning."

Godric glanced at his watch, the only one in the country that he knew of. The Muggles were far too stupid to work out clocks yet.

"It's half past five in the evening, you need your sleep Sal. Are you completely sure you don't want to tell me where you put this secret passageway?"

"Sure as sure can be. Night night!" sang Salazar, "Stinky Godric."

"Don't call me stinky."

"I'LL CALL YOU WHAT I LIKE!" yelled Salazar, "You're not the boss of me."

Salazar stood up from the comfy armchair by the fire.

"I never want to see you again! I hate you!"

"Dear me, he's finally got to the teenage years. It's taken you a while," Helga smiled.

Salazer pouted and ran out the room.

"He'll be back for milk and cookies soon enough," Helga said with a mothering tone in her voice, "I must say, I hope he comes out of the "I-hate-non-purebloods" stage. It's terribly annoying, yet endearing. I wish I'd had children…" Helga trailed off wistfully, with the traditional female addition, "But it wasn't to be…"

"Oh, shoosh," Rowena scolded, "I'm at a good bit."

"You're at a good bit in 'How the Muggles believe they invented the wheel, by Frederic Dungbomb'? How?"

"Quiet, you. And anyway, it's Frederic Mungbomb. Dungbombs haven't been invented yet."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Well, not to you."

(Asterix asterix asterix)

The Next Day

"Where's Sal? He normally wants his Cheerios by now," asked Rowena.

"What are Cheerios?" asked Helga.

"I don't know, they haven't been invented yet."

"You're still not making sense."

"Like I said, not to you," Rowena replied, "Anyway, I think Sal's missing."

"Oh."

"He'll turn up."

"Yeah."

"Let's have some Weetabix."

"What's that?"

"Don't know. Not been invented."