It wasn't fair. Godric sat huddled on the carpet, knees pushed into his chest as if he were no older than Rowena herself. It just wasn't fair. In one swift moment Rowena was gone. And for what? She was just a little girl, sometimes a pest, but they all loved her.
He lifted his head, throwing himself into the dark aura of the usually happy classroom. Lord Clearwater had summoned them there, demanded their attendance. But he himself hadn't shown yet. That was unfair. Helga sat near him, still sniffling back tears and her blonde hair a mess. And then Salazar. . Godric felt a fresh surge of anger. It was Salazar's fault. If they had just went ahead and grabbed her, they wouldn't be in this mess now.
Look at me. He imagined the thought flying across the room and boring into Salazar's brain. Look at me. You coward, you yellow coward, look at me!
But Godric didn't know anything about sending thoughts. And he had to admit to himself that Salazar had been right. At least partially right, whatever good guiltless morals that was good for. Had they ran out, no doubt they would have been captured as well. Three captives for the Fighters instead of one. What a victory that would have been.
And Salazar didn't look up. He sat at the foot of Lord Clearwater's chair, like a servant or a dog. A dog…..
"Salazar."
For a moment Godric thought he himself had spoken, in a high, clear voice that certainly wasn't his. But Helga had stood up, and was now walking across the room to place a comforting hand on Salazar's shoulder. He flinched, jerking it away.
She'd move, of course. Helga was no fool.
But she didn't. She didn't touch Salazar again, but she sat next to him, and Salazar did nothing else.
She glanced at Godric, her blue eyes near glowing. He feels bad enough, her eyes said.
Godric swallowed back a lump. She was right. Damn it all to hell, she was right.
The door opened, and in stepped Jonas. He gravely walked across the room to his usual corner of the room.
"Where's Lord Clearwater?" Godric asked. Jonas hadn't done the summoning.
"Terminus. . . has other matters," Jonas replied, not meeting his nephew's eyes. "I've. . .I've something to tell all of you."
For the first time Salazar looked up.
"I'm afraid that I must admit that Terminus and I haven't been as honest with you as we should have been. The classes. . ."
"I knew it," Helga murmured.
"Clever young woman," Jonas said with a sad smile. "Though I trust you have not told your suspicions to your father—"
Helga jerked at the word.
"Yes, it is the classes. But it's more than that." He settled back in the chair, sighing. "I'm afraid. . . but you must know. We're putting you through something, something that perhaps we're not meant to do. I don't know where to start."
"The beginning," Godric said. Not true inspiration. Just a random fact he had learned from his Gryffindor kin; the Evans knew of no beginnings.
"As well as any. It was to do with. . . us. The magic world. Muggles have never liked us, you know. Never. Oh, there are exceptions, but in general we've never been particularly cared for. And now. . .it's just getting worse. You've heard of all the persecutions against us."
Frederick and his father, Godric thought listlessly.
"The Order of the Phoenix stands for protecting us and our world. But the Fighters, they call them, have different ideas. They stand against Muggles. To them, the only way to save us is to destroy the Muggles. They've a reason for this. The seers among the Fighters say that if it is not done now, it will happen in the future, and be much worse. Something is coming, they say."
"Don't you have seers?" Salazar asked.
"We do," Jonas replied with a nod. "But we take a different course. Which is why the Fighters hate Lord Clearwater and me."
Hate? "They have you specifically?" Godric asked. That couldn't be; the Fighters hated a lot of people.
"They hate us specifically. And I'll explain why. It is not just that we handle things differently than they do. We won't fight the Muggles—I'm sure all of us here just adore Heather Woodkeep. Instead, we're training you for another purpose. The three of you—and Rowena—have the most potential around. Terminus and I will not live forever, and we need you to keep the rest of the wizarding world united."
"What?" Salazar jumped to his feet, eyes blazing. "You can't give us that kind of responsibility!"
"We can't," Jonas admitted. "But we can ask you to take it. I'm not asking you now. If you wish. . . you can just take the training we give you and go on with your life in whatever way you choose."
"I don't understand what the Fighters would have against that," Helga said.
"Because of what will happen in the future."
"What will happen in the future?"
"We can't be sure," Jonas said. "No one can be sure. But something dark will come, and it will come because of what you four will do. The Fighters know this, and that's why they've taken Rowena. To stop it."
"But if something bad will happen, then why should we bring it about?" Salazar asked. It was almost a challenge.
Godric expected a scathing answer, but Jonas gave none. "Because. There is too much good that will also come from it."
"But Rowe."
"We can save her. Don't worry about that. We'll find a way."
Salazar was silent for a long time. Then he sighed, all hostility melting away . "My father is one of them. I can use him to rescue Rowe."
"Your father?" Jonas echoed. Silent words played off his lips. "Siyth Slytherin?"
Salazar nodded.
"Salazar, you mustn't try anything. You might—"
"I'll get her back."
Jonas seemed ready to speak again, but only silence and Helga's sniffling filled the room. And then the door opened, and a woman entered.
"Mother," Godric said instinctively, rising to his feet.
"Godric," she said softly. She looked terrible, her red hair in messy tangles about her tear-stained face. "Jonas, it's Caspian. He's gone after Heather. And she's so distressed about her cousin. He's…" She stopped.
Godric followed her eyes across the room. She was staring at Salazar.
"No," Jonas said, rising.
"My baby," Rose murmured, brushing the air before her with a single finger. "My little baby." Then her mouth twisted back in pain as she doubled over, screaming.
"Mother!" Godric shouted, jumping up and rushing to her side. He grabbed her arm and felt the muscles twitch and spasm. Helgas was suddenly at his side.
"She needs to be on the ground, Ricky." Her face was intensely calm.
"Helga's right." Jonas conjured a mat between Rose, and the children lowered her to it. Rose continued screaming, her voice slowly growing hoarse.
Godric whirled on Jonas. "What's wrong with her?"
"She's. . ." Jonas bit his lip, drawing blood. "Ricky, she's a seer."
"A seer?" Salazar echoed. He sat, still frozen except for his mouth. He couldn't take his eyes off Rose. "Is she one of ours? A good seer?"
"Seers can't be bad or good," Godric said.
"They actually can, Ricky," said Jonas. "Many tend to be biased in their interpretations. And Rose…."
He didn't finish. The screaming ended with cutting silence that was too sharp in its short life before Rose spoke again.
The child meets a crooked path
Doom shall greet thy seed
With final sin when centuries pass
'Tis punishment for thy deed.
The words rung throughout the room before dropping into oblivion.