"I'm going to step into the fire with my failures and my shame,
And wave goodbye to yesterday as I dance among the flames..."
--Martina McBride, "From the Ashes"
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
He hadn't seen her come in. For a brief but deserved moment she wondered if he even remembered her, in the sense that he dared think of her at something akin to a normal pattern. She was his only daughter, after all, the beautiful little girl that looked so much like her dead mother and so talented a witch that all were stunned by her talents. During those times he had shown pride, the terribly selfish kind that lent itself to no thought whatsoever of the one who truly did the incredible. She was his child and therefore the vessel of his glory by interpretation of the most twisted variety. No matter where she learned it, no matter where it came from, no matter how he ignored her or beat her, it was his and his alone. She had never understood it, and for years now knew that she would never need to, not when there was nothing to understand.
She found him in the library, a tiny hovel of a corner filled with ceiling to floor with books and scrolls, histories and books of theories, spells, and studies. An admirable collection to be sure, and something that would prove a great benefit to Hogwarts' library. He wasn't so wonderful a wizard--respectable, but average--and he didn't need all these. Of course, the books would only be a perk, for she hadn't considered the possibilities until that moment. Strange the things that came to one's mind in times of realization. Still, he studied those books. He stood in the corner, book heavy with pages and dust open in his hands—he didn't read the volumes nearly enough. His back was toward her. He could neither see nor hear her as she entered.
She liked the way she felt. Free. Freer than anytime she had ever looked out that window in her room to the surrounding valley, when the wind was harsh and strong and headed for anywhere but there. She could feel that rush inside of her right then. It whirled through her stomach, heart, and lungs, and stung like the tastiest of salts on her lips. She wanted to run up a mountain and cry and scream and laugh all at once. Maybe she would do that once she was done here, before she went back. No one knew she was here. Not even him.
She tried to remember if she had ever loved him, like a good daughter should. She had never told before, not even the three people she cared for the most, of how he had hit her and screamed at her, the dread and fear that welled up inside of her almost every time he came near.
How could she have waited so long? She had spent nights dreaming of this, days planning it out between other thoughts. There had been so many moments when it had seemed so difficult, but now... Now there could be nothing easier. She stepped forward, making her slipper strike the floor.
He finally turned, startled.
She smiled her prettiest, whatever that meant. "Hello, Father."
He was still startled. He closed the book in his hand while words flustered themselves in his mouth. "Helga! I didn't... it's been sometime... a few years..."
Her smile grew. "The best years of my life."
And then she raised her wand.
It was almost beautiful, the way the glass cut.
After the blood began to soak into the wood floor, she left. She'd be by later for the books.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Helga awoke, every part of her body as tense as if she had just fallen; that seemed to be what had awakened her. She lay in a bed, an ample number of blankets piled over her that she could never be more comfortable. Dark, however. The middle of the night, though she honestly didn't remember getting ready for bed, ever. She took several deep breaths to steady her racing heart. Goodness, she thought. She hadn't had such a strange sleep since she was a child. She almost wanted to laugh. Which was odd considering that dream. Though she honestly couldn't remember falling in that dream.
Amazing how quickly memories came floating back. She even smiled. What would anyone say if they knew she smiled at that memory? Well, to be honest, they had never exactly been nightmares. Angel, they call called her. If they only knew. This time she went as far as to laugh. But it was an event that deserved a laugh. It was one of her favorite events ever. They all might call it wrong, a sin, an affront to nature, but she didn't care. Did that make her evil? It was a thought she sometimes considered, but so far she had failed to give any emotion or real deference. Oh, well. So she was heartless and cold, a terrible daughter. What had been his adjectives as a father? She didn't care. It was a pleasant secret, accompanied by a surprisingly sweet sense of power. Was that not the perfect secret?
Helga yawned. Enough thoughts about the dream, her father's murder. She was tired, it was evidently the middle of the night, and apparently she wasn't going to waste any time worrying about this. She spread out her arms and screamed. Like coils her arms sprung back into her sides. "Ouch."
What had happened? The pain was definitely coming from her chest, an aching and throbbing burning. Gingerly she touched her chest. No mark she could find, but the tenderness was there. She took another breath and tried to think. Something had happened. What had happened? It was difficult to remember. One of the students had needed some extra help, though as soon as that was through she had found herself up on the astrology tower with Ranem and--
Ranem. The man she had thoughts she loved. Like a burst of lightening it all came back.
Helga had seen Latiya Weasley from the tower. She had always promised to protect that little girl. She had called Marigold and Ricky. Ranem took Latiya to the lake. She remembered the water, the look in Latiya's eyes... Then the look in Ranem as he had stabbed her. Nothing after that, of course. Nothing.
She almost felt like laughing again. Such a night.
And Latiya. Helga felt the strength drain from her. Latiya had always been such a funny, sweet little girl. Helga had loved her so much. The talent she had, her passion for everything... what had Ranem done? It was like a knife had been stuck once more in her heart, and the blood rushed up through her eyes as tears. She seemed to sink deeper into the pillow, scarcely able to breathe through the sobs. Latiya. Latiya.
"Helga?"
The sound was a whisper and Helga wasn't sure how she heard it. She forced her mouth clothes, shutting off the crying. Someone was near the bed, and slowly the figure came into focus. Was 'figure' the right word for it? A solid shadow, perhaps, and a small pointed face.
"Latiya," Helga whispered, though she couldn't be sure. She lifted her hand and reached. She knew those eyes. It had to be Latiya.
The shadow's eyes were the same, and so was the face, almost, though it faded and reappeared and faded again beneath a black mist. That same silly cloak the messenger had worn was draped around her girlish shoulders--only now it lifted as if the north wind itself pushed it back and afloat. Helga squinted. "Latiya?"
"Helga?" The air grew cold.
The door flung itself open, and Helga turned her head to the spark of candlelight. Rowena stood in the doorway, dressed in a blue night robe, black curls bound back.
Helga turned back to Latiya, but the girl was gone. For a moment she could only stare into the darkness. There was absolutely nothing but the faint outline of a table.
"Helga! Oh, thank heaven!" Rowena dropped to the bedside, the candlestick floating midair, and squeezed Helga's hand. "I'm so glad you were awake! I was fast asleep and I thought I heard you. I should have told myself I was only dreaming but you have had everyone so worried over the past few days that... Helga, you look wonderful! At least as wonderful as someone who was stabbed in the chest could possibly look, but Ricky healed you up just fine and..." The woman paused for breath and gave a small giggle. "I shouldn't talk so fast. You probably didn't understand a word I'm saying."
Helga's smile returned. She couldn't really help that, not with Rowena chattering next to her. "I guess it is good to be alive."
"Of course it is, silly!" Rowena leaned over the bed and gave her a hug. "Especially with all that happened that night..." Her voice trailed off with her enthusiasm.
Helga struggled to sit up. The candle hovered ever so slightly, making the shadows flow. "How long have I been asleep?"
Rowena put one hand on her stomach and settled herself on the bed's edge. "Four days, and as many nights."
Helga nodded. "That is quite awhile, isn't it?" She wanted to ask about Latiya, but she wasn't at all sure what to say. How did one ask such a question? Did a little girl just give up her soul?
Rowena nodded. Her smile was completely gone. "Everything is pretty much over. I don't know how much you remember. Helga, you just woke up and I really don't want to upset you."
Helga put her hand to her head and closed her eyes. What did it matter? "Rowe, I love you. You know that. Just... just tell me."
Rowena shook her head, but began to talk. It seemed easier for her to just let it all rush out as an avalanche. "Martin decided to stay, with the rest of the children. I don't know if they're going to be okay. I don't know if you remember, but Ranem put a spell on Heather and forced her to kill Marigold. Martin is horrified, of course, and utterly heartbroken. It's a terrible thing and I have never pitied anyone so much. Some of the children still don't understand. I don't know if Heather will ever be able to forgive herself, but it wasn't her fault. On top of that, she is a Muggle and wouldn't have had a way to protect herself anyway. So I don't know why she cares so much! No one blames her one bit! If only that horrible Ranem had never come--we all had bad feelings about him the moment he lay his broom down in this castle!" She paused again for breath, this time panting horribly.
It seemed that Helga already knew this; that didn't make it hurt any less. "What about Latiya?"
Rowena bit her lip and slid closer. "Helga, I am so sorry. I don't know if I should talk about that now, I knew how close the two of you were. I shouldn't have awoken you. Go back to sleep and we will talk more in the morning."
"But I'm awake now!" The words almost echoed. She hadn't meant to speak so harshly.
But Rowena only gave the faintest of smiles. "And so am I. Maybe you're right and I should just get this over with. As you heard, there is so much I don't know right now and I hate that feeling more than anything and--"
"Rowe, I saw her."
She stared, mouth open.
Helga tried again. "I saw her. Latiya. Just before she came in. She wasn't herself. She was like a shadow. She was--"
Rowena shook her head, and Helga grabbed her wrist. "Please tell me that you believe me!"
Gently Rowena took her wrist and lowered it back to the bed. "Of course I believe you. She's still here. She has sworn to protect this school."
"Then can we get her back?"
She hated it the look on Rowena's face.
"Helga, no. There is no way. I've learned about this. It's a new sort of Dark Magic. Latiya is still alive, and she has her soul, but the soul is all but dead. It gives her great power in return. But she can't come back to us. Not like she is now."
"Oh." It was an odd reply, but Rowena's words had deadened Helga. All she could see in her mind was Latiya.
"Helga, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you."
Helga shook her head. "It's not your fault."
It seemed they sat on the bed for hours, wax slowly melting from the calendar. The events of that night raced through Helga's head. Had she done anything? Anything at all to save Latiya?
Rowena seemed to read her thoughts. "Helga, Ricky was so proud of what you did that night. You did everything possible to save that little girl."
Slowly she nodded. "I promised her I would never let anything bad happen to her."
The bed creaked as Rowena slid closer. "It was her own choice, you know. It was her own choice."
"What if she didn't know what she was getting into?"
Rowena sighed. "She was a smart girl, always had been. Deep down, I think she knew. I think it's what she wanted. To protect Hogwarts."
Helga almost smiled.
"Just be glad you didn't die, yourself," Rowena said. "You had us so worried. Ricky rescued you."
The air grew almost as cold as when she had seen Latiya. Helga tensed. "That was good of him." She suddenly did not want to look at Rowena. Why had she brought up Godric? Helga had imagined that someone had rescued her. Of course someone had rescued her or how else would she be here, alive and resting? "You must tell him I said thank-you."
Rowena reached up her hand to the candlestick and delicately dipper her finger into the liquid wax. It congealed on her skin as she watched it. "Surely you'll be able to tell him yourself." There was something in her voice.
Helga reached for Rowena's hand. "Rowena, please. We have always been friends."
"We are still friends, aren't we?"
Helga nodded. "I hope so. You are my best friend."
Rowena pulled off the hardened wax. "I think he still cares for you."
Something in her heart fluttered against her will. "He does? Ricky?" She shouldn't have used that nickname. It meant something completely different then. But she didn't love him anymore. "Rowena, that was three years ago and before. He's your husband."
"I know that!" Rowena yelled, leaping from the bed. "Do you think I am so stupid as to not know that I am married? I am baring his second child! I think that definitely makes us husband and wife by now." She paced a few steps from the bed, then turned. "Helga, Salazar came that night."
"Salazar?"
She nodded, her face wildly pale in the candlelight, so much that Helga worried she would be sick. "Salazar came that night, and I did nothing! I... I completely rejected him and I know exactly why."
Helga already knew. "Rowena, please sit down."
Obediently she knelt back by the bed, but did not stop talking. Her fingers clutched at the blankets as tears leaked from her eyes. "I missed him so much. Even when I married Godric I wanted so much for Salazar to be right there. I can't say how much I loved him."
Loved him.
"But he left. He left and I didn't see him again until that night. I hurt so much. I went to the nursery and I cried and I cried. You were hurt, I couldn't talk to you. Everything had happened, I didn't know what to feel or think. But then I realized that it doesn't matter anymore." She looked up and locked her eyes with Helga's. It was almost like a spell, and Helga felt the tiniest twinge demanding that she pull away. "Helga, I am so sorry. It seems that when Godric and I married we all had some sort of silent oath. I know we talked about this, a little. You knew how much I loved Sal, right?"
Helga nodded.
Rowena seemed to take that as affirmation to continue. "I thought it would be all right, as long as we all knew whom we really loved. I know that you have loved Ricky for forever. And I loved Sal. But that's not true anymore."
"Rowe," Helga heard herself beg.
But it was too late. Rowena had started and nothing could stop her. "I don't know if you can ever forgive me. But he's my husband. He's the father of my babies."
Helga didn't want to hear it.
"Helga, I think I am in love with Godric."
The silence fell.
Helga grabbed the blankets, half wanting to tear them from Rowena, only she didn't have the strength. It was so strange to hear. Rowena couldn't possibly love Godric. Rowena loved Salazar. And Salazar had left. And she herself... she was over Godric, wasn't she? She had accepted the marriage, and she hadn't tried to do anything at all. It would be wrong, it would not be in her place. She had no right to butt into something like a marriage. Fate had done what it needed to do.
Then why did she want to run outside and scream?
The door opened again. Neither of them looked up.
"Helga! You're awake."
That time she did look up as Godric quickly crossed the floor to the bed. He knelt next to Rowena, his eyes on Helga the whole time.
He had rescued her. He still cared.
She couldn't see perfectly, but out of the corner of her eyes she could see Rowe, kneeling there, looking as sweet as humanly possible and just a little frightened. What was she afraid of? But Helga couldn't think on that long. Godric was right in front of her, smiling.
"We were so worried, Helga! Rowe has been jabbering about you for days, you mustn't frighten her that way. I healed you, but it was still terrifying to wait for you to wake up, Rowe thought maybe there had been a spell on Ranem's knife." He hugged her.
She couldn't stop herself. She couldn't even think as she did it. It was like the first time she had kissed him, when they had been children.
For the briefest moment he responded. Or perhaps it was her imagination. But much too quickly he pushed himself away. "Helga."
She sat frozen, just as horrified. She shouldn't have done that. Not after what Rowena had said. But she still felt the kiss.
Rowena was on her feet immediately. Helga stared at her, but Rowena barely seemed to see. Then she turned and ran.
Helga pushed the blankets away, as if she were fast enough she could erase it all. "Ricky, I am so sorry."
He didn't hear her. He was out the door, chasing after Rowena.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Rowena knew she shouldn't be running, not in her condition. Her legs ached more than they should have, and she felt as awkward as a dragon in a tiny maze. And she wasn't even that big yet. Her feet were bare, not ready for running on hard stone. She didn't see where she ran.
Why should she be angry? If anyone had made a mistake, it was her. She had no right to fall in love with Godric. Just because he was her husband and she was his wife. What were those? Anything but words?
But words could speak truth. And the truth was that she had fallen in love with Godric long ago. She couldn't say the exact date, but it had happened. No wonder she hadn't gone straight to Salazar. Damn it all, but she loved Godric. If she had really loved Salazar, she would have left the wedding and searched for him the whole world over until she had found him.
What had gone so horribly wrong?
"Rowena!" The words echoed. Godric. He was chasing her. Why was he chasing her? He had his precious Helga back... but she had always been his precious Helga. Right until she had wandered in to snatch it all away from the both of them.
She hated herself.
The library was close; she could see the doors of wood so fine they even glimmered in the dark. She had always liked libraries--useful for both reading and romantic trysts. Stealing men away. She had always been somewhat good at that, attracting the attention of every young wizard and a few old ones too disgusting to mention. But it was proof enough. She was the same little slut they had all always teased her of being, the sort that would dare to fall in love with her best friend's true love just because the man happened to be her husband.
She was horrible. She threw open the doors and, out of breath finally, sunk down.
It didn't take long for Godric to catch up. He collapsed next to her and pulled her into his chest. "Don't run away from me! Think of the baby!"
She twisted her head away and tried as well to get rid of his arms. "You have Helga. She loves you. She has always loved you and I know that you have always loved her."
He paused. Somewhere she could hear a mouse. Damn mouses, gnawing at everything. "Rowena, listen to me. Helga kissed me."
"I know. I saw her. I was right there!"
"I know you were!" He pulled her closer, so that her head rested right under his chin. He smelt so wonderful, she thought she would faint. "And I don't care. You don't have to leave her just so you won't hurt me, I'm fine. I don't care what kind of scandal it will create. You two have always wanted each other and you know that I never wanted to marry you in the first place. We weren't supposed to get married, it was supposed to be you and Helga at the wedding."
"I know."
Good. He was intelligent enough to agree.
She turned so that her head was in his shoulder. The tears would come soon. "Ricky, I'm sorry."
He nodded--she could feel that--and kissed her forehead. "Rowe, can I tell you something?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"The other night, when everything happened and Salazar came... I was so scared."
"You jumped into a river that was attacking you. Of course you were afraid."
"It wasn't that."
She didn't want to ask what he meant.
"Rowena, when Sal and I were walking, and you came out, I was so scared that you would go to him. We all knew you were in love with him when you were hardly a baby driving us all mad."
"I wanted to," she replied. "I almost did. I didn't know what to do. I do care for him and I think that I will always love him, somehow."
"I understand."
"Do you remember when we went down beneath the castle, to make our own little tribute to Salazar?"
She smiled. "Yes, of course. And we made that stupid face and neither of us had the slightest idea why or who it even looked like."
"I've been thinking about it and I think it looks like my great-uncle on my father's side."
"So you're telling me that we now have a giant sculpture of a Muggle under a school of wizardry?"
Godric laughed. "Those who hate Muggles, what will they think?"
"There is still the theory that everyone will assume it's related to Salazar. He would laugh so much if he saw it."
"Or kill us. Remember, I know him. He is my brother."
"Your own brother would kill us. Oh, dear."
They both laughed. Rowena thought of how horrible it was that they could laugh after what had happened to Marigold and Latiya, but it felt good. "We did have so much fun making that room," she said. "And that little lizard."
"Every good castle needs a monster."
"Ricky, don't you think it's a little dangerous to have in a school full of children?"
He shrugged. She liked that the way his muscles felt as he did so. "I don't care. For some reason, I don't care. A little danger can be refreshing. Besides, I seem to remember that it was your idea and we did seal the passage way."
"We should have shown it to him when he was here." She let her body go limp and slid her hand over his arm. "I didn't think I could ever talk about him like this to you."
"That's because we have an understanding, Rowena."
She lifted her head so that she could look up at him. "And what, pray tell, is our understanding?"
"You said that you will always love Salazar. I have to tell you that I will always, deep down, care for Helga."
It hurt to hear him say that.
"But love changes over lives and lifetimes. Rowena, these past three years have meant everything to me."
"Ricky, why the hell do you love me?" She wondered if he would say that he didn't love her.
"Because I do. I really do love you."
She practically pounced up on him. They rolled back against a book shelf, knocking one or two to the floor.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
It was afternoon, two weeks later. Save for a few pieces of wood, holders of a spell, drifting on the lake, there seemed to be no sign that anything had happened. The Weasleys had left, for a short time Martin had said, but Godric trusted them to return. Martin was a good man, and the children were brilliant. Godric hoped they would return soon, because he rather missed the children running around, all with hair as red as their mother's. Evans red. All classes had resumed, though every so often someone complained of a strange feeling of ice stirring through the air. Godric tried to ignore it, but in an odd way it was rather comforting.
He and Rowena went about their duties, which consisted of he teaching and Rowena taking care of Mary--though she had insisted on teaching a class every now and then. Sometimes they crossed in the halls with reactions toward each other that ranged everything from a simple glance exchange to a full blown kiss sure to send everyone near running. He didn't care. He loved her so much more, each day, he couldn't comprehend it.
Helga, on the other hand, he rarely saw. He hated that. Part of him thought it was best that he didn't see her, but for the most part he wanted to sit down and talk with her and explain everything. As if that would prevent her a broken heart. Could she possibly understand? He didn't think she could. The rare times he saw her she didn't so much as glance at him. She had dared to kiss him and now he was no longer worth a look.
And yet it didn't matter at all. He just wanted her to understand. If only they could pause, three moments, in the same room.
That day he was teaching a group of older students everything they needed to perfect their spells. It was a wide range of magic types--they were talented students and only needed some practice. Terminus would be proud, Godric realized. The magic was truly strengthened. The school had been a wonderful idea.
Of course, every young wizard still made his mistakes. Godric was just cleaning up blood spilled from hell-knew-what charm when a knock sounded at the door. Before he could even invite whomever it was in the door opened.
Godric stared. For a long time he couldn't even imagine who had just barged in. A man, tall, with black hair and skin browned from wind and sun. The eyes were dark and wild, and the clothes hung from his frame as rags. It was Salazar.
A short time could certainly change things.
The students whispered among themselves as Godric ran to the door. "You're back."
Salazar nodded stiffly. "Yes, I am back. Happy to see me?"
The tone wasn't what Godric had expected. "Well, yes, I'm always happy to see you. You didn't exactly stay around long last time."
"There was no point then. I was an absolute fool! Godric, we must talk!"
Something was wrong. Godric felt stupid for not noticing earlier. He looked back at the class and gave a signal of dismissal, only to have ten young wizards and witches dash past him. Salazar took his arm and led him to the side. "It's really important. I've done something terrible."
Not a good thing to hear. Godric shook his head and forced a smile. "When have you not done something terrible?"
Salazar's face remained fixed. "Where are the women? Helga and Rowena? I need them as well."
Something was very wrong. Godric shook his head. "Tell me first."
"I can't."
"You've always been able to tell me anything. What are you talking about?"
Salazar shook his head and stared down the hall. "Empty." He just have meant the hall. "Godric, I need to find someone. If I can't find her, I'll have to destroy the school and you will not stop me."
Godric ran back into the room, grabbed a quill and parchment, and sent messages flying to Helga and Rowena.
They appeared almost at once, Rowena cuddling Mary and Helga looking as pale and withdrawn as ever. "What's happening?" she asked.
Salazar leaned against the fall as if he might faint any moment. From the way he looked, Godric would not be surprised. He himself hung back, forcing himself to keep his eyes only on Salazar. He didn't even worry about Rowena.
"Do you remember Tanith?" Salazar asked. His eyes stared past them. "Do you remember her at all? A small girl with blonde hair?"
Tanith? An image jolted itself into Godric's head. He hadn't thought of her in so long. "The strange one? Yes."
A grim smile stretched over Salazar's face. "Glad you remember her. I need to find her. I need to find her and kill her."
Helga gasped. Rowena hugged the baby closer.
Godric waited, expecting more of the story.
By then Salazar seemed unaware he had an audience of his best friends. "There was a prophecy. Several, in fact. The always speak of a great evil to the wizarding world that will come in centuries."
"But not for centuries," Rowena said. "Logically we have time to prepare."
"They said that it will be my descendant. We may have centuries, but something bad will happen. Call me mad, but I fear it."
Godric shook his head. Somehow he wasn't surprised. But even so there was a small glimmer of fear inside of him. "Where did you hear these prophecies?"
"Rose. Scrolls. There have been other Seers that have spoken."
"You're not evil, Salazar!" Godric said. He brought his arms to his side. "Why are you so afraid? You didn't do anything."
"But you?" Rowena asked, interrupting Godric. "I don't understand. The line comes from you and you mention Tanith..." A look of absolute horror came into her eyes.
It was almost funny. Indeed, Godric had the strangest urge to laugh. He remembered the girl. "So this is where you have been for the past three years. With Tanith."
Salazar didn't smile. "She's not what she seemed. She only came to me because she wanted a child to be born. I thought Rowena had something to do with, so that's why I left you." For one second he locked his gaze with hers. Yet she did nothing. "But that prophecy was a lie, a trick, and so was Tanith. She wants evil to come into the world, and she made herself a part of it. Now I have to find her and kill her before the baby is born."
"And if the baby is born?" It was a fair question, Godric thought. It wasn't as if he wanted to know the answer.
A deep shudder slid through Salazar. "Then I shall kill the baby as well."
A scream exploded inside of Godric--at least it didn't come out his mouth. He thought of Mary and the soon-to-come baby. "You would kill your child?"
Salazar brought up a fist and slammed it into the wall, hard. His face tightened with pain. "I don't know, Godric. I really don't know what I would do if I found the child."
"The baby wouldn't be wicked."
"You don't know her. She is the mother, and she isn't even human. She is a serpent, maybe. I don't know. I don't know what she is."
"Salazar, don't," Rowena begged, stepping closer to him. "Please, sit down. You're tired. You're not well."
Godric dared a look at Helga. She hadn't said a word. She just stared fixedly at Salazar.
"I'm well enough." He shook her hand away. "I have spent weeks looking for her. I can't find her. I need help to find her."
He was mad, Godric realized, though he understood why. "You want our help?"
"That's why I came here! You're my brother, you should help me."
"To kill a girl?"
"She isn't a girl!"
He realized his own fist was clenched tight. "I can't do that. And it's fate. What makes you think you can stop it?"
Salazar laughed, hard and mirthless. "I didn't think you put so much faith in destiny, Godric."
"I'm not leaving the school to an attack just so I can go on this mindless quest with you."
The laugh stopped. Salazar glared hard at him. "Maybe they were all right. Maybe it is best that we destroy the school."
"You wouldn't do that!" Helga screamed. The first words she had spoken since the meeting had begun. "You wouldn't dare!"
Salazar took a deep breath, and trembled. "I don't care if I wouldn't. But I have to do something. I have to find her and I have to kill her. I will not be held responsible for this."
"Why would you be?" Rowena asked softly. "You didn't do anything."
"I made a child." Salazar looked down at Mary, who was busying herself by pulling her mother's hair. "That should be a good thing, shouldn't it? A child should mean happiness."
Godric's heart pounded. Of course a child was good.
"But it won't be your child!" She was begging now. "It won't be for centuries."
"Will she even love the baby?" Salazar screamed. "Will she?"
"It's hers as well. Why wouldn't she?"
Salazar shook his head and turned away. Godric hated watching this. Absolutely hated it.
"Salazar, you've done nothing but good," he said.
"I was born," came the reply. "This all happened because I was born. Rose said so. She made the prophecy when I was born. Because she fell in love with someone besides her Muggle husband."
Godric felt a flash of fury. "That Muggle was my father. He was a good man."
"I never said he wasn't. At least you have something good to be connected to."
Salazar threw another punch at the wall. "I'm leaving," he said. He turned to Rowena. "Come with me."
She wouldn't go, Godric thought.
She didn't. Rowena shook her head. "I can't go with you. I don't want to."
Salazar nodded. That surprised Godric. "I still love you. I'm sorry."
"I know."
Salazar began running down the hall.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Godric saw Helga turn. She seemed as still as a statue as she, too, watched Salazar. Then she spoke again.
"Wait!" she shouted. "Salazar!"
He stopped.
She picked up the edge of her long robe and ran toward him. "I'm coming with you!"
A smile, actually happy, broke over his face, and he held out his hand for Helga. She grabbed it, and soon the two had vanished around a corner.
Godric and Rowena just stood there. The only sound came from Mary.
"They're gone," he finally said.
Rowena nodded, and Godric put his arm around her shoulder. "I can't believe it."
She nodded again. "We're down to two. When did this happen? Did we do something wrong?" She looked up at him, eyes wet. "You don't think--?"
"Think what?"
She shook her head and brushed a finger through Mary's hair. "I don't know. I don't know what I think. I just thought this school would last forever."
"It will." He sighed. He hadn't thought of his father in so long. A Muggle who defended the magical world. He was supposed to have been so brave. What would he have done?