The Founders Four: United

by S.T. Le

The story of the founding of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the 10th Century CE. Everyone knows that Hogwarts was founded by four of the most brilliant but disparate wizards. But what not everyone knows is the story of how they found each other, the depths of their relationship, and the joy and heartache that came from it. Part 1 of the 2-part Founders Four Series

4. The Eagle

Chapter 4: The Eagle

Helga stomped into the kitchen, face deep crimson and hair amess. Lettice didn't know the woman for that long, but she knew the rare occurrence of this otherwise patient woman losing her temper meant that she should stay away momentarily. Those that don't bark all the time end up having the worst bites.

"Salazar, how are the sauces coming along?" Helga curtly asked while checking on the few meats sizzling on the skillet.

"You know, when you said you had a job for me that wouldn't be too strenuous but would still help me with my potion-making for the Trials, this isn't what I had in mind." Salazar the saucier gruffed at Helga the Head Chef, as he checked on his never-ending number of pots with all sorts of sauces bubbling over or simmering.

Lettice couldn't help but let out a giggle despite telling herself to be quiet and let the grown ups deal with themselves.

"Oh pish posh, apple sauce, we ain't got time for one of your complaints right now, do we? We're about to start the dinner rush and there's four times the amount of people here than there were yesterday! I hope you keep up better than you did yesterday!"

Salazar muttered some obscenities Lettice wanted to add to her own vocabulary.

She at first was afraid of this stern-looking man with an perpetual pout and pointy beard when Helga told her yesterday morn' that he'd be helping out in the kitchens while he recovered from that poison. But the more she saw how funny he was, she liked having him around, especially since he clearly did not intend or was not aware of how funny he was. He was at his best when Miss Hufflepuff was around. They would just yap at each other like two old dogs who've been together for way too long.

Mrs. Mouffat's boisterous and obnoxious laugh suddenly filled up the kitchen as she burst through the doors. She has a way of ruining everything.

"And you," Mrs. Mouffat snickered, "were so excited to host that tea party today with THOSE women." Mouffat doubled over in her laughing fit, Lettuce was sure she must have been hit with a tickling hex.

"Alri, Alri, I get the picture!" Helga exclaimed, busying herself with the next ticket item.

Lettice looked on from the garnish station as she chopped the fennel and carrots the way she had now been taught. It was obvious that Helga was still upset as she was shaking at her station, but she was trying to calm herself through her breathing. Lettice recognized the technique because she had taught it to her yesterday night when they were deep in the weeds in orders. What could have been an off-the-path service turned out to be calm, eventually.

It was kind of funny, Lettice had to admit. It was obvious the new influx of women Helga was so excited about were a troupe of ladies of the night...ladies who were employed in the oldest profession. Her time at the pub hosting various festivals, fairs, and conventions taught her at her young age that whenever men gathered as a large group, a bunch of coin-minded single women followed.

If only I had warned her, Lettice thought. The truth was, she thought Helga had already known but for some reason was being incredibly welcoming and accommodating to this gaggle of heavily made up, scantily clad, and rouge-heavy loose women.

"Can't believe it, no wonder they made so many comments about choking a cock with two grips….and no wonder they laughed when I told them male birds don't taste as good as the hens," Helga muttered under her breath.

"They were nice," Lettice offered, remembering how sweet many of the women were to her when she served the tea and biscuits before Helga allowed her to join in and enjoy as well.

"Yeah, of course they were with all their inside jokes at my expense that I didn't get...I guess I'm no competition for that lot," Helga replied.

"Well, they were nicer to you before you panicked once you found out you were breaking bread with well...you know...," Lettice replied.

Helga slammed the heavily floured dough onto the counter. The thud from the dough shook the kitchen. Then she continued to knead it as if she could transfer all of her hurt and anger onto it. Well, whatever the reason, Lettice was glad to have the extra dough as the special chicken, pea, and potato pie Helga had served the ladies earlier that was now today's special became Lettice's favorite meal. She had five slices already. Slices eaten with utensils were apparently lady-like.

"Not true," Helga replied as she put all of her weight into it. Lettice feared she might be over kneading the dough. "They were pretending to be nice, but they were making the same kind of comments about me with their double meanings and dirty minds. Believe me, I know of these things."

"Then why did you offer Lovage a job in the kitchen afterwards?"

"Well, after I panicked, I didn't want to be seen as prejudicial!" Helga barked. Seeming to understand she had no call to take such a tone with Lettice, Helga sighed and continued in a much softer tone, "Besides Lovage was so eager and young. She clearly knew a lot about food. Rosemary and Thyme told me that that she wasn't cut out for their kind of work. Said they kept her on because she prepared all the food for them while they traveled from hamlet to hamlet, village to village, bed to bed, or in this case, haystack to haystack."

"I'm just glad she'll be doing the grunt work with all the choppin' and preppin' while I get to work on the real stuff like the roasting and sauteing." Lettice couldn't help but beam. She finally had an underling. Well, two since she considered Salazar her junior in the kitchen.

"Well, she said she was good with the knife. She bragged about carving a hen into eight neat pieces that were easily manageable to eat."

"I'm sure hens aren't the only thing she knew how to use her knives on."

"Well, no matter. She's coming anyway."

"It's bizarre how quickly your attitude on them changed once you found out they worked for living."

"Never you mind about that! You ready with the garnish for the pigeon, trout, and beef steak?" Helga carefully plated the first entree of the night and few more tickets came conjuring in. "Four times the amount we saw at this time since yesterday. I guess we got double the visitors and they now have dates."

Grrrr.

"Evenin' all!"

Lovage burst right through the door and hopped up and down as she put on her apron and head piece. "Don't you just love the sound of a kitchen?"

Helga did her best to welcome the poor girl as she mumbled something vaguely positive her way.

"Harumph!" Salazar exclaimed as clearly something went wrong as his sauce began to smoke.

One half-hour into early dinner service, the sounds of heavy but rhythmic footsteps marching towards the kitchen came louder and louder until the doors flew wide open, revealing the greatest image of all - the vision of the muscled, broad-shoulder, striking, sculpted adonis known as Godric Gryffindor. Lettice wanted to hide behind a barrel and her stomach started to feel funny.

"Well, Fee-fi-fo-fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman!" Helga exclaimed as she ran towards Godric Gryffindor and embraced him in a tight bear hug. Godric embraced her back in-kind.

"Harrumph!" Both Salazar and Lettice crossed their arms at the sight.

"Oooh, who's this?" Lovage asked, eyes wide and her head spinning. Lettice could imagine what this professional was cooking up.

"Nevermind, where are the carrots and peas?" Lettice demanded, thankful for the distraction.

"Well, I never, duckie!" Lovage replied as she haughtily went back to her station, slowly while shaking her hips.

Lettice noticed Godric looking on.

What a scoundrel! And yet...so charming! Lettice wouldn't have Godric be any other way.

"Pal!" Godric exclaimed as he also bear-hugged Salazar, who clearly was unfamiliar with such warm embraces. Salazar played along and lightly tapped Godric on the back waiting for him to let go.

"You're looking well. I'm glad you're up and at 'em!" Godric excitedly exclaimed he finally let go and sized Salazar up. "Say, you up for another dueling tournament?"

"No!" Helga and Salazar answered in unison. Lettice giggled.

"I see Carannog is doing his part, making recreational tonics for the bar while Mrs. Mouffat serves the ale, beer, lager, and mead."

"Yes, now that Salazar is 'up and at 'em', I figured the old man should do something before we leave for the Trials on Monday," Helga replied.

"How are they?"

"Ain't no better elixir mixer. You see the lines for them. Whatever you want, he'll know how to make it."

"Ain't no better elixir mixer my behind…" Salazar muttered to himself.

"Don't be jealous!" Helga yelled out to Salazar. "You two are different kinds of potion masters. One makes people happy and heals them while the other…" Helga trailed off, voice turning uncertain.

"What? What do I do?" Salazar questioned eagerly.

"I haven't figured that out yet."

Salazar grumbled making his way back to the sauce station where he worked on the seven sauces Helga told him to keep on the ready. They certainly ran out fast.

"In that case, I need try them out for myself!" Godric roared. Lettice swore no matter who else was in the room, your eyes always only fixated on Godric the Great.

"Well, let me feed you first!"Helga said with a hint of swagger, ready to show off her cooking for him.

"Ain't no more loving words have ever been said!" Godric cheerfully exclaimed.

Helga's earlier dour mood clearly dissipated as she skipped along to the various stations, preparing the best plates for Godric. Lettice even noticed Salazar tasting his sauces more carefully as he prepared them for his friend.

"Just so you know, just because you're feedin' me don't mean I'm going to sleep with ya!" Godric said jovially.

Salazar spit out the sauce he had been tasting and Lovage looked on open-mouthed. Lettice was excited to hear the grown ups talk more about these grown-up subjects and hoped they would continue.

"I don't want to sleep with you!" Helga replied in a surprised manner. Rather than admonishing him, she sounded as though she was carefully explaining a fact to a student. Her naivety and inexperience was written all over her face.

Godric for his part, started coughing and also turned red. "I was just joking, Helga."

"Oh... uh yeah... I was too." Helga wiped the sweat from her brow, pretending this conversation never happened while finishing the preparations for Godric's meal— this time with less vigor.

Lettice noticed a smile forming on the corners of Salazar's mouth and he tasted his sauces with gusto.

"I think this is my best batch yet!" he exclaimed in celebration.

"Then I can't wait to eat it all, but please make it double!" Godric commanded as he sat on the chair by the cauldron and put his feet up on the nearby sitting stool.

"What!?" Both Salazar and Helga exclaimed in unison.

"What a glutton! Are you that hungry?" Salazar asked.

"Or did you bring company?" Helga added.

"Oh just that you'll be feedin' another." Godric grew more excited as he was ready to show his visitor to his new found friends.

"Could have told us that sooner!" Salazar admonished, his good mood already gone. Helga silently began preparing a second set of courses, her vigor coming back, muttering to herself that she hoped his friend liked her food.

"Forgive me, but I wanted this to be a surprise. I need to introduce you to a lad." Suddenly, Godric's face turned towards the kitchen entrance and said "Come here boy!" followed by a loud whistle.

A shy sandy-haired boy who must have been just a little older than Lettice stepped into the kitchen.

"Gee, Mr. Gryffindor. You've been makin' me stand out there forever. I thought you forgot about me," the boy said. Lettice took note of his squeaky tone and sweet nature and laugh that followed revealed a boy who may have been even less worldly and experienced than other boys his age.

"What? No! Who can ever forget about a lad such as yerself, mah boy!" Godric said, putting his arm around the boy's shoulders full of pride and ruffled his hair. The boy leaned in closer as his grin grew wider.

If Lettice didn't know any better she would have mistaken them for kin with the way both of them were beaming standing next to one another.

"I forget myself all the time," the dim-witted but sweet boy replied. "Just the other day, I got lost in the…"

"Ok, ok, we understand, boy! But now is the time for introduction!" Godric interrupted.

The boy quickly shrugged his shoulders in response.

Lettice was unsure how she felt about this new boy. She eyed him up and though she usually was ready to make a judgment about anybody on sight, something told her to hold off on judging this boy and instead to get to know him.

"Hey now, what's he doin' here?" Helga asked with her signature warm smile. Lettice could tell she was chompin' at the bit to feed them.

"This lad's a talented wizard. Not really a thinker now, but a doer!"

"Huh? What does that mean?" the boy asked. He seemed to know enough that that wasn't necessarily a compliment.

"Never you mind. I just mean you're one of those 'leap before you look' type of lads."

"So no wonder you two got along swimmingly," Salazar said, stirring and breathing in his bechamel sauce.

"Give em a task and he will put his heart and soul into it! Ain't no mean bone in his body! I convinced his muggle parents to let him travel to the Trials and Festival. Maybe he can find a wizard to apprentice with and develop his talents. Every great wizard will be here by Monday."

"And what if none will take him?" Helga asked. Lettice observed the look of concern wash over her face. It was a look she was quite familiar with now.

"Then he'll just go back to his village doing what he did before?" Godric looked as if he had no idea why Helga was so concerned.

"You mean after you got all his hopes up for a better life?" Salazar added from the back. Lettice thought he must have some sort of super sense of hearing.

The boy just looked on, half-comprehending and half-confused. Lettice herself wasn't sure why there was such a fuss being made. I mean even if he doesn't get to be an apprentice, at least he got to see this much. It was better than nothing.

"I never said I was giving him a 'better' life, just a different life where he could hone his talent. You two act like living ordinary muggle lives is a punishment." Godric raised his palms in exasperation.

"Says the man who can't settle down and sit still for a moment. Always off to the next adventure!" Mouffat said as she walked into the kitchen. She clearly had been eavesdropping.

"What's it to you?" Godric asked defensively.

"Children ain't toys for you to play with and who will always bend to your will, you know. Once you take one in, you got a responsibility to them!" Mouffat exclaimed. Then she turned to Lettice, "Girl, quit gawking about and go back to work before I wallop you!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Lettice quickly curtsied and went back to the dishes. She overheard Lovage snicker from behind the piles of onions, carrots, peas, and potatoes.

"Uh... what's your name?" Lettice asked the boy once she finally settled back to the garnish station up in front. Something about being back at the station she lorded over made her feel safe and secure enough to ask.

Mouffat gave Lettice a side-eye for being so bold, but the boy smiled widely and seemed to welcome the opportunity to finally be able to speak, especially with someone close to his age.

"Roderick, miss! Me folks call me Roddy!" he quickly ran up to Lettice and shook her hand enthusiastically. His grip was strong, stronger than Roddy probably realized as Lettice didn't expect such a hard squeeze. However, it actually felt nice to have at least her hand be held on so tightly.

Despite rocking from his eager handshake, Lettice locked eyes with Roddy. Just now, Lettice figured out how easy it was to get lost in Roddy's amber eyes. What an unusual and bright color. There was something about Roddy's expression as well. His child-like friendly smile suddenly changed into something a bit more serious. As if he himself was taken aback by something.

"Ok, that's enough!" Mouffat yelled, as she slapped Roddy's hands from Lettice's and pointed her finger right up to the same eyes Lettice had been lost in. Roddy fearfully paced back until his back hit the wall.

"You keep eyes out front, and yer smiles for ya mother!" Mouffat hounded the boy as she leaned in closer before continuing. "Listen up, you changeling! She's already betrothed to the farmer's son, and we need the onions!"

Before Lettice could protest, Mouffat turned and made her way towards her, giving Roddy a chance to escape.

"And you," Mouffat now pointing at Lettice, "be careful of boys with their eager seductive eyes. They'll have you moving faster than you're meant to, I tell you that! As my grandmother used to say, 'slow and steady wins the race, but ain't no good will come from an one-eyed sailor!'"

Lettice backed herself into a wall as she busied herself trying to figure out what that one meant, Mouffat continued.

"And I tell you, she was never wrong! I won't be throwin' away all the years I've invested in rooming you, boarding you, and teaching you! You better listen to me girl, and listen to me good. If you so much as think about being with that boy, so help me God I won't just wallop you, but give you the beatin' of a lifetime, you hear me!"

Lettice simply looked back at Mouffat. She had nothing to say to the woman because she had no idea what the woman was saying. All she knew was that she had never been so afraid of Mouffat in her entire life. What the hell was going on? What did she do? She looked on at Lovage who started to shake in fear herself. Something told her Lovage received this sort of talk before.

Then she looked around to the rest of the kitchen and saw Godric, Helga, and Salazar staring intently straight at Mouffat. Godric had his hand on his wand, Helga rolled up her sleeves, and Salazar was stirring his pot slowly and quite eerily. Something about their expressions seemed harsh this time, as if they were in battle and preparing to strike.

"Now, now! What's all this seriousness for, eh?" Mouffat asked, her breaths getting heavier. "Look at me back here talkin' to you lot like I ain't got a room of Charleys and Scarlet women out there that need tending!"

Mouffat offered an exaggerated guffaw, the sounds of which rang harshly into Lettice's ears. Lettice noticed that Helga, Godric, and Salazar slowly eased up and adopted Mouffat's put-upon lighthearted demeanor - the usually openly cranky Salazar was surprisingly good at doing so while Godric was surprisingly the worst, Lettice thought.

"Well, since you've made up yer mind about bringin' this boy 'round here, I bet you two need a room. Well, I've expanded the pub as far as magic can take it and every room and every floor space in the dinin' hall and every hay stack in the barn is filled up. But... I made sure to spare some room for you, since you're Godric the Great and all. And there's room for your lad too!"

Lettice felt Mouffat was trying too hard by being overly accommodating and jovial since everyone could tell Godric hadn't quite forgotten what had just happened.

As if he was just getting the hit that everyone now was being over performative, Godric as he bent down on one knee and kissed her knuckles. "Oh bless ye! Mrs. Mouffat!"

"Now, don't you start!" Mouffat giggled as she savored the touch of Godric's wet lips on her skin. "People will think me of one of dem scarlet women out there if they caught the sight of us!"

Suddenly, Lettice and Godric's eyes locked. His look seemed full of sympathy and concern, making Lettice feel safer. Helga placed a hand on Lettice's shoulder while Salazar asked if Lettice could come by his pot and taste his sauce to see if it was serviceable. That was the first time Salazar asked her to taste anything as his highness was always sure his sauce tasted fine.

Godric continued to thank Mouffat profusely while causing her to giggle even more with his caresses and flirtatious banter. From the corner of her eye, Lettice noticed Salazar seemed to be taking mental notes of Godric's behavior. Then she heard an exaggerated gag from from Helga's way.

"Now, you stop that for real!" Mouffat shooed Godric away as she continued. "You won't be sleepin' here for free, and I don't need your coin right now."

As Lettice prepared the next garnish, she listened closer to what Mouffat was saying. She caught Lovage also leaning closer with her gaze keen on Godric, like a wild cat ready to pounce on her prey.

"You see how busy we are. Hundreds of people lookin' to be served their food and drink," Mouffat continued.

She then turned and faced Roddy with an exaggeratedly large grin. "Now, I need Roddy to keep filling up the barrels with drink and help keep the kitchen supplied." Now facing Godric again, "You need to help me and Carannog tend bar while I serve. Go see Carannog and he'll teach you how to make a few of the popular tonics he's been servin' our guests."

"Seems a good time for business," Godric replied, arms crossing as he raised an eyebrow to Mouffat.

"I don't know what he and dem scarlet women have been doin' but people are spilling their coins here like we're the fountain of youth." Mouffat again guffawed, this time at her last statement as if she said the funniest thing in the world. Her boisterous laugh ringing louder and louder as she kept going.

Please stop! Lettice pleaded to whomever existed up in the skies.

Unbeknownst to her, someone from the skies would be landing towards the entrance of the Hobgoblin Tavern for Magical Folk in just a few hours.

---

A few hours into the night, and Godric didn't find his new bartending job too hard. Sure people spat at times when ordering their ale and got increasingly boisterous and rude, but as a whole they all behaved themselves. Mouffat said the sight of Godric the Great made them all behave themselves. If Godric told them to wait, they waited. Mouffat told him she had never seen this place so well-behaved with it being more impressive that this is the busiest she had ever seen the tavern.

The best part was learning how to make the various tonics and elixirs from Carannog. Godric had many teachers, mentors, and professors in his life, all teaching him everything he learned to synthesize into his own skillset, but Carannog must have been the most pleasant and calmest teacher he had ever met. Even doing a little thing like crunching up mandrake mint in a mortar and pestle was met with the highest of praises from Carannog. Even he would mess up, Carannog would simply chuckle and tell him to revel at this opportunity to learn from 'our mistakes' before carefully and kindly correcting him by example.

While Carannog was teaching him the proper way to mix Gwyllion Gin with Tylwyth Teg Tonic - the perfect example of a concoction made with two extreme elements working in tandem to provide the drinker the right amount of kick before its cool soothing exit - the Gwyllion with its malevolent intentions and the Tylwyth Teg with its love of purity, Godric caught the eye of a lost looking dark-haired lad with a broom on his back. He seemed to be a few years younger than he and despite this tavern being full of wizards and even witches of all sorts of colors and languages and tribes, this fellow seemed to stick out even further. Something about the way he carried himself and his clothing seemed off, and he seen some funny looking muggles who thought they were dressing up as wizards or their idea of wizards.

A young tall dark-haired man snapped his fingers at Mouffat who told him 'to talk a walk to the bar' since all the tables were full. Godric observed the man as he strode towards his bar, which was nearly at full capacity itself. Something about his movement was enticing. Godric then just considered what he had just thought.

A man - enticing?

The man with his chin up looked snootily at the other patrons sitting at the bar and carefully laid out his space, as if that would stop others from entering into his invisible no-go zone.

"So, my boy, what'll it be?"

"Um…" the man was carefully considering what to say next. Godric wondered if he was contemplating how to say it as well. "I'm not sure yet."

"Well, that's fine. Just take yer time. Name's Godric. Say, what's your name?" Godric offered his hand to shake. The man refused to look in Godric's direction and instead seemed preoccupied as he looked around the tavern.

Godric was losing his patience. He wasn't often this accommodating to strangers. Didn't this boy know he was 'Godric the Great?'"

"My apologies, what did you ask?" The man finally looked straight at Godric who by now had already lowered his hand.

"Yer name," Godric said curtly. Maybe he's just lost and confused to have manners right now.

"My name's Dagger and I have the moves like Jagger."

"Huh?" Godric responded.

"I mean…" Suddenly, the man's cheeks grew flush. It was truly cute. Godric had no idea what was going on but there was denying it, this lad was cute! "My name's Jagger and I have moves with this dagger! So don't try any funny business, see!"

What on Earth? Godric thought. First off, his name was clearly not 'Jagger'. Secondly, Godric saw the boy pulling that knife from a mile away. No way would he be able to stab him. Third, nobody was threatening him here. He wondered what happened to this poor lad before he came here. Imagining all sorts of scenarios the young man had been through, Godric decided to appease the poor man.

"Oh, I see…" Godric answered, giving the lad an exaggeratedly obliging wink and bow. "So, now that we have a name, you want something to drink or eat? The tables are full and the food may take a while due to the volume, but it's worth it once you get it." Godric turned to and pointed at the menu on the wall.

Jagger however didn't bother to look and started listing his order, "Yes, I'll take a nice early century wine from Bordeaux please."

"Uh... wouldn't you prefer to have mead or ale or beer with your meal instead of wine? You can always get one of our special made tonics afterwards as well. It helps the medicine go down, if yer know what I mean?"

"None of that please. Instead, I would like my first cup of wine followed by a nice cup of hot water with any sort of relaxation herbs you have in the kitchen. I prefer tranquillitas' tarragon leaves mixed with harpie honey with a splash of sorcerer's smoke, if you have it. If not, I'll go ahead and take a Pasithea parsley water with limerick lemon as that seems more common with the magic Angles."

"Uh huh…"

"As for food, I'll start with pyre roasted pheasant. I usually don't eat sauce, but let's be bad shall we? I'll take it with light gravy please!" Jagger's eyes lit at the thought of doing something very naughty.

"Oh yes, we're being bad tonight, aren't we?" Godric laughed on.

"Yes we are!" Jagger exclaimed, nearly jumping out from his stool. "Anyway, back to my order…"

"Oh there's more?" Godric replied.

"Uh, of course." The man looked to Godric as if he asked the stupidest question in the world. "I don't think you have the breast of a peacock or swan because none of these places do, so I'm told. Pheasant should be easy enough. That'll do." Jagger became more at ease as he relaxed in his seat before he continued his order. "Then I'll have some of your cane sugar almonds with the dried fruit, heavy on the figs, dates, and raisins. I'll take a jelly as the cooling in-between meal. I usually request Rocksteady charmed Rosewater mixed with lavender petals, but I'll take any kind of jelly you have here. I mean, beggars can't be choosers, right?"

"Right…" Godric answered while quietly serving a bunch of men their ale.

"Then for my second entree I'll take a nice venison, shot today preferably. But again, beggars can't be choosers." The man heartedly laughed while lightly tapping Godric's hand.

"Right…" Godric repeated, noticing how light Jagger's touch was and how smooth and precious white his skin seemed to be. Godric licked his lips involuntarily.

What the hell am I thinking?

Jagger's jovial laissez-faire attitude disappeared when he continued his order, "However, I do expect fish that was fished out today to be my third entree. I won't take any salted preserved fish, simply disgusting. And I don't trust just anyone serving me magicked preserved fish. It takes a special kind of wizard or witch to do that right."

"Yes, one needs special skill to magically preserve food correctly," Godric answered, hoping Jagger would continue so he could keep observing him. Godric knew something was off with this man, but didn't understand what.

Jagger seemed too busy waxing poetic about his favorite dishes to notice Godric's gaze. "Oh, I could go for a seal or lamprey, but alas, I'm in merry ol' England now, aren't I? And I'll guess I finish up with some game soup to help everything go down."

Godric simply stared at Jagger who finally completed his order.

"Well…?" Jagger asked expectantly. "Aren't you going to put my order in?"

"We don't have any of that," Godric answered in disbelief of this kid's audacity.

"What?" Jagger asked in disbelief, now looking like a child who was told his favorite candy was no longer available.

Soooo cute! What the hell? Godric, get a hold of yourself!

"Then why did you allow me to go on like that?"

"Because it was funny."

"Well, I'm hardly laughing." The man's expression grew dark as he pouted. Suddenly the sound of his stomach grumbling echoed in both their ears. The man looked embarrassed. Clearly, it had been a while since this man had something to eat.

"How about this, I know what's good here and I know the cook well, she's the greatest. I'll just order you some of the best she has to offer," Godric said.

"Well that does sound…"

"I'll just order a dish and an appetizer with maybe an 'in-between' meal, since I think that's what you can handle," Godric said as he eyed the man's tall wiry frame.

Suddenly Godric felt Jagger's hand tightly grab hold of his wrist. Godric was surprised that the man's wrists seemed positively dainty.

"What makes you think you know what I can handle?" The man smirked.

Ah! He was one of those... dainty fellas! No wonder I was confused. I guess dem fellas can be as charmin' as women afterall. Gotta tell him sorry but no dice I like the hole not the pole!

Godric was about ready to tell him he could sheathe his sword elsewhere when he suddenly locked eyes with the man's brilliant blue sapphire orbs. He noticed his chin was nice and small and he had some strong cheekbones. Something about the way this man was arching his eyebrow right now made Godric's heart aflutter.

"Uh... I'll just order," Godric muttered as he retreated towards the back.

What was that about? Was Godric actually attracted to a man? Well, some of his fellow soldiers did tell him it can sometimes happen, and sometimes a man's touch is just what another man needs to fulfill some desires, but Godric had never been attracted to a man before. Why now? Why him? Oh he was so delicate looking despite his height, wasn't he? So naive of the world, thinking he was foolin' people with that tough guy act.

---

Jagger patiently awaited his order, when he looked at his coin purse and realized how little was left.

My my, how easy it is to spend coin. I had no idea. I wonder if they'll take credit.

Jagger looked around the room to see if he could spot the man he had been looking for.

Oh where is he? I know he'll be here!

Suddenly, the familiar silhouette of the man Jagger had been looking for appeared. There was no mistaking the wide curve of his forehead to his brow, the broad nose with a nub instead of a point, and his wide chin. Jagger had been staring at this man nearly his whole life.

"Grospatrick!" Jagger shouted across the hall.

Despite the tight congestion of what seemed to be hundreds of bodies about, most eyes near the bar area in front were suddenly on him.

"Um... uh, carry on!" Jagger told the crowd, in the deepest voice he could muster before quickly running towards the man he'd been after.

Grospatrick looked at him as if he had no idea who was right in front of him.

"Um, I'm sorry, do I know who you are?"

"Grospatrick, it's me!" Jagger whispered.

"Who?"

"Rowena!"

"What? Rowena... what…" Grospatrick looked flabbergasted, just what Rowena wanted. She knew her disguise was brilliant and she was glad to have all the work she put into it validated.

However, then Grospatrick started to look flushed and then panicked. "Uh...what are you...I mean why are you…"

Before Rowena knew it, Grospatrick dragged her outside of the tavern to a quiet patch in the nearby wood. Even in the darkness, Rowena could make out Grospatricks dreamy bushy eyebrows, his muscular jaw, and his broad shoulders. Yes, Grospatrick was masculinity incarnate. And what made him even better was his wit and intellect was unmatched by any other man she had met.

"I finally did it! I finally got away from Grannie, the old witch!" Rowena exclaimed, wanting to jump up and kiss the man she loved.

"I can't believe it! You actually did it! You finally escaped from her evil clutches!" Grospatrick exclaimed, clutching her shoulders.

"Aye! That's right!"

"Rowena, that's wonderful!" Just then Grospatrick and Rowena embraced. "I never thought you would ever have the courage to do so!" He and Rowena clung on tightly to one another for a good long period, both of them knowing the gravity of her action and how much courage it took for her to take this step. Suddenly, Grospatrick broke the embrace, his face full of worry and unease.

"Wait, what about your teaching position?"

"What about it?" A sudden darkness had overtaken her as she tried not to remember the school she had just resigned from.

"But you love teaching the children."

"Yeah, well…after being passed over all these years by that wretched and mad Alesonne Moorehead, why should I stay?"

"All these years?" Grospatrick playfully mocked, mimicking her exaggerated Scottish trill. "You're only twenty-one."

"An old maid as Grannie says." Rowena bitterly laughed.

"Nevermind that hag, you know what I mean. You have plenty of years ahead to move up and…"

"It's not a matter of should I stay but could I stay. With what happened to Thebe, I don't have the heart." Rowena suddenly wanted to sit and put her head down as the aching in her heart that she had so suppressed these past few months came back.

Grospatrick's face softened but a sudden flash of concern flashed over him.

"But what are you going to do for money now that you've escaped your clan? You won't have the Ravenclaw coin anymore."

"Well, I took the pay I've been saving up over the years, and Nanny McPhee was good and gave me whatever she could spare."

"Nanny McPhee? How can she afford to do that?"

"I don't know, I just told her to give me whatever she could and she did. She helped me escape, you know."

"Where are you going to sleep? What are you going to do?" Grospatrick seemed full of concerns. The answer was so obvious to Rowena and she was disappointed Grospatrick didn't come to the same conclusion she did. All of this had one easy answer.

"Well, I thought we could figure that out together," Rowena winked and nudged Grospatrick with her elbow.

"Um, what do you mean?" Grospatrick asked, holding back a cough.

"I'm sure one of these inebriated lovable lurches is a vicar of some sort. I bet we can convince someone to marry us! That's why I rushed all the way here on my broom!"

"What? You rode that old thing from Glenmore to here? That's over five hundred miles! It took me weeks to get here by carriage and secret wizarding apparition tunnels."

"Yes, you see, Professor Foirbeis and I have been working on making a broom not only fit for the short-track broom racing or rock catching for ye cauldron-headed idiots in Creaothceann, such a barbaric game, but have the speed, power, and endurance to travel long distances as well. There are also charms we formed and tweaked to give stability and comfort to the broom rider, even if one has to ride side-saddle the way I do..."

"Ok ok, before we continue talking about one of your new inventions, that works, of course…" Grospatrick exaggeratedly sighed as if that was the story of his life, "But what makes you think we should be married?"

"What? I thought it was understood!" Rowena said indignantly as she stomped her foot on the ground.

"I thought you weren't the marrying kind…" Grospatrick contemplated, rubbing his chin, eyes down to the ground looking as if he made a miscalculation.

"Who said?" Rowena questioned never breaking her gaze from Grospatrick.

"If you were, you'd be married five years ago." Grospatrick's eyes were still on the ground, still thinking.

"I've been wantin' to marry you!" Rowena exclaimed forcefully as she clutched onto Grospatrick's robe.

"Uhh…" Grospatrick responded uneasily as his voice shook and he instinctively backed way. "I don't think that's a good—"

"Why not? You told me we were destined to be together. You said our brains together could take over the entire world. Sitting at our desks under the watchful gazes of Professor McHadden, MacDougal, Builds, Cailbhin, Gerumach, Guarire -."

"Yes yes, I know." Grospatrick calmed Rowena down before she could go on into another tangent. "And yes I meant it. Rowena, you can take over the world! But I think you misunderstood me when I said 'together'."

"How could I? A month ago, before you left, you looked onto me and said 'come with me and we will set forth new paths for us to afoot, so long as you be with me and I be with you, there will be new pleasures to prove.' How could that be anything other than a proposal?" Rowena implored desperately as she clutched onto his robes tighter.

"I was just saying I wish we could travel and compete at the Trials together. There's nothing about love in that poem!"

"You...you led me on!" Rowena

"How?"

"What does 'new pleasures prove' mean?"

"I can tell ya that one, duckie!"

Suddenly, a woman rose up from the ground behind a nearby tree, and raised her drawers from her ankles, and fiddled with her skirt before making her way back to the tavern. An embarrassed man followed her moments later while adjusting the fly of his pants.

"Oh I get it…lust! You're just a rascal, a scoundrel, a vagabond, a rogue, a…." Rowena started pounding against Grospatrick's chest, not actually wanting to hurt him.

"Rowena, stop the hysterics!" Grospatrick grabbed ahold of her trying to calm her down, but something in his gaze told Rowena he was looking past her and around for someone.

Hysterics? If I hear a man use that word against a woman that again! I mean, I'm entitled! We're talking about another woman!

"Oh I get it…" Rowena said before throwing punches at Grospatrick - this time wanting to hurt him.

"Rowena, hey! Stop! Hey!" Grospatrick used his big strong hands that had just clutched tightly onto her body to stop her flurry of punches. Rowena shook in anger as Grospatrick tried to calm her in a tight embrace.

"You're such a liar! You told me I was the only woman you could ever care about- that you do care about!" Tears started to flow freely down her burning cheeks.

"You are! I'm not lying about that!" Grospatrick gazed into Rowena's face. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, Grospatrick's face showed nothing but earnest sincerity. He was the same Grospatrick she grew up with. The same Grospatrick her grandmother forbade her to marry due to his lowly place in society. The same Grospatrick who had such quiet strength and dignity, who could never tell a lie and wouldn't wish to harm a fly but could harm a giant Bog's Boar if it met saving his loved ones. She knew he wasn't lying to her and didn't lie to her.

Then what was going on? Why was he looking for someone else? Why did he make her believe she'd be the only woman for him?

Feeling his tight hold, and being so close to the lips she so had wanted to taste for years, Rowena laid her lips onto his.

Feeling his pillowy, soft, salty wet lips was everything Rowena had imagined and more. She breathed in his musky, earthy smell. Suddenly, she was transported back home, among the foggy moors with violent tides crashing against the rocky cliffs with her hair swept by the blazing wind. Oh, she had imagined this moment forever.

Suddenly, Rowena felt herself being thrown on the ground. Then a kick in the gut.

Rowena yelped out in pain. Truly, this was painful. She hadn't been this hurt since her experimental broom threw her off Falcon's Crest and her ribs needed mending.

"You bitch!" she heard a man with a thick accent shout.

A man!? A Frenchman?

"Calm yourself Danny boy!" She heard Grospatrick say. "Don't hurt her!"

"I won't, and I will!" this "Danny boy" replied.

Rowena looked up from her position on the ground and saw a thin, olive-skin wizard who must have been around their age crying and punching Grospatrick just as she had. From his expression, it looked as though this "Danny Boy's" heart was truly in pain, like hers was.

"How dare you go off kissing that man while you told me I was your beloved and the one you wanted to marry in spirit if not by law?" "Danny Boy" started shivering and shaking as his punches slowed as they grew more labored and heavy. "And After all we've been together? All the years of separation and pain! Me leaving my entire family- toute ma famille!

"It's not what you think," Grospatrick said, trying to calm "Danny Boy" down. Rowena watched Grospatrick's expression. His eyes were full of pain - pain for hurting "Danny Boy" so much - for causing such strife for him. Not only pain. There clearly was a longing and a love for him.

Well, he never looked at me that way! Rowena hated to admit.

"I told you I'm not just here for your pleasure. I am not just an entertainer! You were the only man to not make me feel like my body was the only thing I was worth...is my ass all that I am?!" "Danny Boy" continued.

He sure is dramatic, but such style in his expression! Rowena had to admit she admired the way he punctuated his sentences with such flamboyant flourish.

"How can you say that? I love you! I love you so much it hurts me! I am turning my back on my clan just to be with you. And do you know why?" The usually stoic Grospatrick was practically groveling, in his own restrained, manly, Scottish way.

"Why?" "Danny Boy's" body was shivering as tears flowed down his cheeks. He clearly was in pain and Rowena felt sorry for causing it, even if unknowingly.

"Because our love is too magnificent, too bright, it cannot hide. It cannot be kept at bay. It must be allowed to shine."

"Oh, mon amour!" The man's heart was clearly melting at this point.

The moon shine showered over this scene, illuminated Grospatrick's sparkling face as he caressed "Danny Boy's" face and kissed him. He was just as handsome here as that one time she saw him with his wind-swept hair standing against the stormy backdrop at Wuthering Heights as the tides crashed against the cliffs. Where she was from the tides always crashed against the cliffs and the wind always swept the hair.

Something about seeing two men kiss excited her and made her want to write multiple stories about their angst and love.

Still admiring the moonlit scene of romance, Rowena tried to rise up from the heavy, clumpy muddy floor. Her body cried out for a hot bath.

"Then how could you do this?" Danny Boy turned and pointed down to Rowena as if she was a pile of rubbish. "I turn my back and see you kissing another, how you say? Laddie!

"I'm a woman!" Rowena answered defiantly as she placed her hands on her hip and rolled her eyes at this clearly oblivious Frenchman.

Then she felt her cheek sting as "Danny Boy" slapped her.

Such drama! Rowena continued to admire.

"Yeah right! You are clearly a man!" Danny Boy spat.

Rowena looked down at her clothing and realized that she was still dressed like Jagger. This disguise was genius!

Danny Boy looked like he was ready to get into a brawl, so Rowena did the only sensible thing.

Petrificus Corpus!

Danny Boy's body petrified and Rowena watched as his frozen body dropped to the ground.

"Ok, mister, now you watch carefully!" Rowena told Danny Boy, voice shriller than she intended, ready to explain everything as she had just realized Grospatrick intended to marry this French firecracker. If her wise best friend decided he was the man for him, then she needed to make sure he was making the right choice in a partner.

Rowena twirled her magic baton and a ribbon of blue and silver stars matching the night sky shimmered from the wooden end. Suddenly, the short close-cut hair unfurled itself into long, straight locks and the silhouette of her naked body posed with the elegance and gracefulness of the finest female court acrobat. Suddenly her body danced, pranced, and twirled all-around until her feminine form with matching feminine clothing revealed itself to the Frenchman.

"Now, don't you hit me again or as the moon in the sky is my witness, I shall punish you!" Rowena proclaimed in extra dramatic fashion as she pointed her magic baton towards "Danny Boy's" face.

"Mon Dieu!" Danny Boy shouted. It seemed she needed to work on this spell as his mouth could still move. From the look of his face, it seemed as though something had finally dawned on him. "C'est toi! The 'Rowena' GrosPaddy is always talking about! Pardon! I've been wanting to meet you forever!"

The French certainly were charming.

---

Grospatrick, Daniel, and Rowena walked back to the Hobgoblin, arms linked, as if they were the oldest friends in the world. Though Rowena's heart ached from Grospatrick's ultimate rejection and would ache for longer than even she would even be conscious of, she put on a brave face as she knew his love for his Frenchman would need all the support in the world. For Grospatrick's sake, she would do anything for there was nobody more important in her life at this time than her dear friend, who had given her never-ending support.

Catching a whiff of the most savory aroma she had smelled in days, Rowena rushed back to her still-empty seat, leaving Daniel and Grospatrick to converse amongst themselves near the back area. Most likely to snog, Rowena thought.

"What is this?" Rowena asked no one in particular, as she inhaled the scent of roasted, salted hen with a light brown brothy gravy served with a medley of colorful red and golden potatoes and punctuated with the most orange glazed carrots she had ever seen.

Taking her seat, the eyes of the familiar bartender scanned her up and down. His eyes filled with delight and his body grew relaxed as he placed his elbow at the bar, leaned in close, and offered a wide grin. Then suddenly, he shook his head, as if he was shaking off some hex placed upon him. His face then grew serious and stern as he leaned back and his body shot straight up.

"Sorry, Miss, I can't give this seat away, even to a beautiful lady such as yourself." The bartender winked and then continued, "However, the next seat..."

The bartender turned to the drowsy man sitting at the adjacent seat and nodded his chin towards the back area.

"What's that you doin' wit yer chin!?" The not quite totally conscious man asked.

"Scram!" The bartender commanded, and up went that patron stumbling to find some sort of empty seat in this filled-to-capacity house..

"This seat is fine, laddie!" Rowena responded, waving him away, not understanding why her old seat was no longer sufficient to meet her needs. "Don't you think you were a bit rude to that man?"

"Rude?" the bartender asked. "I just freed up a seat for you, with the best view of the house, I might add," the bartender said with a prideful smirk as he pointed both of his thumbs to himself. "I'd think you'd be more thankful!"

"Why would I thank someone for offering me a seat when I already have one?" Rowena asked, adding, "and view? What view? All I see is you and a bunch of wooden mugs, chalices, steiners, cups, goblets…"

"What view indeed," the bartender huffed. "Anyway, about your seat, I already told you, darling, this seat is taken!"

"Don't call me 'darling', and I told you I am the occupant of this seat. You were just talking to me before."

"Was I? This is the first time my eyes have laid upon you." The bartender rubbed his chin and made a show of looking deep in thought.

"You must be mad!" Rowena exclaimed.

"Oh no…" the bartender chuckled. "I know what you're trying to do!" the bartender exclaimed as if a candle just lit in his head.

Figured out a puzzle, has he? This ought to be good, Rowena thought.

"You're trying to get a free meal! Nice try but you can't pull the wool over my eyes...I know I know...you're not used to being rejected when you use your charms, but it'll take more than feminine wiles to get the best of me!"

What was wrong with this neanderthal? This cretin! This idiot!

"Well, I'll have you know I've been rejected for plenty of time, in fact, I was just rejected a few minutes ago!" Rowena boasted with her chin up, facing this uncouth ignoramus. Suddenly, she realized what she had just said, and her shoulders were now drooping.

"Oh you have, have ye?" the bartender asked, now with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Maybe you need to rethink your makeup and reveal more of...yourself." The bartender then looked past her and eyed the other women in the tavern.

Rowena turned back to see what he was looking at, and noticed every other woman here was a heavily made up prostitute.

"Oh! That's not what I mean...you...you…"

Oh, what is this man's blasted name? Godwin? Goodrich?

"If we had met before, I'd think you'd know my name."

Grrr….

"My man, Godfrey, it's me!" Rowena finally exclaimed in exasperation as she slammed her palms onto the bar.

"Name's Godric!" Godric shouted as if it was the most obvious thing in the world forgetting that her not knowing his name would have proved his point. "Don't you know who I am?"

"Yes!," Rowena shouted back, her eyes widening as if she was coming to a realization.

The bartender smiled down to the floor, and rubbed the back of his head. "Of course, you know who I am...don't be ashamed it took you that long to realize who you were talkin' to...:"

"Yes…" Rowena replied sardonically, "a bartender."

Godric huffed, his chest grew large as he started taking in some deep breaths. "Are you saying you have never heard of Godric Gryffindor the Brave? The Great?"

"Well, which one is it?"

"Which is what now?:

"Is it the Brave or the Great?"

"It's both! They're the same thing!"

"No, they're not. They're quite different words, you know. Words with different meaning. Shall I define them for you?"

This Godric the whatever grumbled and said something along the lines of it not mattering because both were extraordinary titles to be given by his adoring public.

Rowena gleefully sat up straighter on her stool. "Quite the humble laddie, aren't you?"

"That's besides the point! It's not about the actual name but what it reveals...about the people who watch you….it tells you what they think of you." Godric bellowed as he slammed down a mug of lager and slid it a waiting patron, who had been requesting his beer for the past five minutes.

"Good thing it's not actually about the name since it sounds made up," Rowena responded, sipping her now cold tea. It took everything in her power not to spit it out.

"Why I oughta!" Godric said, shaking his fist before exhaling deeply to allow calm to envelope all around him.

Starting to feel bad, Rowena asked in all earnestness, "Since I'm supposed to know you, are you some sort of local clown or court fool?"

"A court jester?! A fool?! With muscles like these?" Godric started to barrel his chest and flex his muscles.

"Oh, sorry, I couldn't see your muscles, your gigantic head was in the way."

"Well, lassie, I do have a gigantic head…" Godric chuckled and waited a few beats, as if expecting a response from Rowena, who gave none because she had no idea what he was getting at. Giving up, Godric continued, "Let me give ye a hint!" Godric exclaimed.

Godric took a crouching position and started waving his wand in an intricate pattern of movement. He jumped from the floor onto the bar itself, nearly knocking over the scrumptious plates Rowena had just wanted to taste. Godric suddenly started flipping all over the bar, actually knocking a few mugs and cups of ale. Then he started miming some broad and powerful sword strokes.

"Yes, now I see that you've taken some mime classes," Rowena said impatiently when Godric finally finished. She just wanted to eat.

"I love a good mime!" declared Daniel, suddenly appearing behind Rowena with Grospatrick in tow. "They're all over Paris! Now, do the one where you're trapped in a box!"

Grospatrick pulled him away as it was clear that Godric the barkeep was about to explode into a rage from how red his face had gotten and how his body shook as if he was about to launch into an attack.

"I don't get it," Rowena whispered to Grospatrick and Daniel after briefly explaining the situation to them. "We've already met. In fact, he ordered those dishes for me. "

"Rowena, darling," Grospatrick coughed, "Maybe you met this barkeep when you were a man?"

"Oh!" Rowena suddenly was hit with a fit of the giggles. This seemed to calm Godric down as he now just looked befuddled.

"What's going on here?" Godric finally sighed as his shoulders drooped and his hands rubbing his foreheard, his face betraying sheer exasperation.

"I'm sorry…" Rowena tried to say in-between her bursts of laughter. "You see...it's me...Jagger!"

"Jagger?" Godric seemed to be in full concentration as he rubbed his chin an heavily exaggerated manner. He was clearly working this whole situation over. Suddenly, his face hit the realization and for some reason, a look of sheer relief and elation overcame him.

"Jagger? Jagger?" the bewildered face of Godric asked. Suddenly, his mind was racing, as indicated by his shoulders going from drooping to back and straight. His eyes shifted left and right as he seemed deep in thought.

How long will it take this neanderthal to figure it out? Rowena thought observing Godric carefully. She suddenly noticed this man really was a big man. Tall and broad. Incredibly handsome, actually. Shame his arrogance nauseated her.

"Jagger!" Godric slammed his fist on the bar in celebration as hugged the nearest person, some poor fragile elderly man who was serving the special tonics and elixirs. "Jagger! She's Jagger! Everyone, this is Jagger!" Godric pointed at Rowena as he faced the entire dining hall and roared the news with all the power his lungs could muster.

Rowena looked on wondering what had overcome this musclehead to act the fool. He would make a good court jester.

"My God man!" Godric shouted before realizing he was in the company of a lady. Suddenly, he bowed, went on his knees, grabbed her hand from behind the bar, and kissed it gently. "I mean my dear lady, please excuse my boorish behavior earlier."

Well, he does have manners.

Rowena then wondered who was assigned the unfortunate task of teaching this man proper etiquette. How trying that must have been. Thinking this was finally her chance, she began carefully cutting the flesh of the breast of the bird and dipping it daintily in the sauce.

"I'm just so excited because well, you see...that explains everything! Thank the Lord!" Godric continued.

"Explain what?" Rowena said, now with a mouthful of food.

"Mind your manners!" Grospatrick ordered. "Just because you're amidst a bunch of ruffians doesn't mean you have to start acting like one."

"Sorry, I'm just starving," Rowena said as she swallowed. "Say, this is delicious! I was worried because English food is usually so disgusting."

"The food is good because I'm Welsh!" the kitchen woman exclaimed as she appeared from behind Godric.

"Aye, what's goin' on? I thought that Goblin's friends came here to get their revenge, I have, with all that shoutin' you doing." The kitchen maid slapped Godric with her dish cloth, prompting Rowena to laugh.

"Well," Rowena interrupted, analyzing her strange and yet familiar accent, "my compliments to my fellow Celtic woman, Miss….?"

"Hufflepuff, Helga Hufflepuff."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Rowena said as she extended a hand for Helga to shake.

"Hey!" a bald man with a pointed beard shouted from the kitchen. "Don't take all the credit, woman! I made all the sauces you're dipping that dry meat into!"

"Dry meat?!" the kitchen maid shouted.

"Did I stutter?" the bald man responded.

Before the two could continue to bicker, the landlady came stomping by.

"And what's this?" she asked, interrupting the scene before giving Godric and the old elixir man a list of drinks to make.

"Oh, it's nothing, Mrs. Mouffat," Godric responded as he poured beer and mead into mugs. "There's just this Scottish woman who was a man and now she's a woman enjoying Helga's food," Godric answered.

"And my sauces!" the bald man exclaimed.

"Sorry, Salazar! And his sauces," Godric replied.

Salazar nodded in approval, threw something into the pot he was carrying and a huge puff of smoke appeared. Once it dissipated, Salazar was gone from the scene. Not the best parlour trick, Rowena supposed, as all he had to do was walk through the kitchen entrance.

"A woman who was a man?" Mrs. Mouffat tried to piece the puzzle together as she rubbed her forehead. "Oh, you were that precious, dainty little feller that was here earlier, weren't you?"

Suddenly, Mouffat leaned in close, coming face-to-face with Rowena as she examined her.

"Yes, sorry about the disguise, but traveling all over the island alone as a woman is dangerous," Rowena offered as she leaned as far back as she could without toppling her stool over.

"Not if you know what you're doin', luv!" a woman passerby said as she escorted the man outside, most likely to the dark wooded area.

"How do we know you're not really a man, and this image in front of us isn't the disguise?" Mouffat spat, brow raised.

"Believe me, I'm a woman," Rowena said, wiping some spit from her face. She then continued to scarf down two more portions of potatoes. "Could I get more of these?" she asked Helga.

"Oh, she's definitely a woman!" Godric exclaimed, a little too eagerly.

Suddenly, everyone at the bar stopped their chatter and stared blankly at Godric.

"Yeah, but how can we know for sure?" Mouffat asked, breaking the silence, stare never breaking.

Rowena shrugged her shoulders, took another bite, and went on to explain. "Because men are like the Roman God Mars and women are like the Roman Goddess Venus; the latter has a vagina, and the former has a penis."

Rowena felt that was the simplest way to explain things to this confused bunch. My goodness, it wasn't as if this was a complicated rune to decipher.

"Not always, dear, but that's a conversation for another time," Daniel said as he sat on the seat next to Rowena's.

Helga looked as if she would have done a spit take if she had something in her mouth. The patrons at the bar however, did do one, leading wine and ale to land on Mouffat's apron and face. Godric laughed boisterously as Mouffat looked scandalized.

Some of the women sitting on a few men's laps also looked horrified.

Boisterous laughter coming from the kitchen told her Salazar was still listening in, and even he found Daniel's words hilarious.

Rowena coughed before she continued, thinking she may have said something she should not have as her comment was clearly an affront to this society. Her and her big mouth again, it's just like Granny said.

"My point is that my disguise didn't go that far," Rowena said, pointing in-between her legs. "Believe me."

Rowena did her best to sip her wine in the most casual way possible, hoping if she pretended not to notice the appalled audience, then they would either go away or stop staring at her like that.

"You can't just say those things out loud?" Grospatrick whispered to Rowena as he looked at the now scandalized audience.

"Why not?" Rowena and Daniel asked.

The French get it, Rowena thought.

"It just isn't done!" Grospatrick answered, with his head in his hands, seemingly as exasperated as Godric was earlier.

"You say 'yum-yum' not...vag...I can't say it!" Helga exclaimed as she waved her arms.

"'Yum-yum'?" Rowena questioned, looking absolutely disgusted with such immaturity surrounding her. "Ares arse no! What is it? Some sort of delicacy to be eaten? I'll tell you what, a vagina is the actual word for what it is, and it's not something to be tasted and licked all over."

"I beg to disagree," Godric blurted out.

"What was that?" Rowena asked, not understanding Godric whatsoever.

"Oh nothing, just enjoy your meal, eh?" he then laughed to himself.

"Excuse me, my dear sir, but that is no way to speak to a lady!" Grospatrick said, denouncing Godric's ungentlemanly-like behavior.

"Oh come off it, she doesn't know what I'm saying."

"Not exactly, but I know it was dirty and inappropriate," Rowena guessed, still not understanding Godric's meaning but based on context clues from Grospatrick's reaction and Godric's naughty expression it had to be something stupid boys would say.

She and Godric exchanged curious looks at one another, sizing the other one up before he went back to tending bar and she went back to converse with Grospatrick and Daniel.

---

As the night passed on, and Rowena, Grospatrick, and Daniel continued to enjoy each other's company. Rowena began to imagine the kinds of adventures she would have with them as they traveled throughout Britain or even the world, making new magical discoveries. Maybe they would find themselves raiding a tomb full of magical artifacts while avoiding numerous booby traps. It was a bit much for Rowena herself, but she knew so long as Grospatrick was around, she'd be safe.

"...and that my dear, is how I escaped having to lose my virginity to that courtesan my uncle hired!" Daniel exclaimed.

Rowena covered her mouth so as to not spit out her third helping of wine. Grospatrick looked on in mock horror as he slapped Daniel on the back. Rowena noticed as his hand laid on Daniel's back for some time then it rubbed gently in a soothing motion.

Sigh. Rowena looked on in envy as Daniel enjoyed such intimate love from Grospatrick.

"Well, Ms. Rowena Ravenclaw, you are everything GrosPaddy said you would be…" Daniel stated as he enjoyed Grospatrick's rubbing. "And more!" he added as his body went stiff and straight, mimicking the stupefied position she put him in earlier.

"Now, stop that!" Rowena slapped Daniel's lap playfully. "I had to do something or you were going to kill me!"

"I thought you were a man!"

"I knew she wasn't," Godric interrupted, filling up everyone's cups with their drinks.

Rowena ignored him, and turned back to her friends.

"Grospatrick, did you ever tell Daniel the time where we tried to debate the philosophies behind the existence of hell...but in French! We thought we were killing two birds with one stone with that one." Rowena giggled as she relaxed in her chair.

"Oh yes, we were attempting our conjugations and started playing around with the pronouns, challenging each other to keep up with the conjugations of the verbs we were using."

Rowena and Grospatrick began to parrot what they did with their French growing more rapid and messy. Daniel looked on in horror and amusement at what they were doing to his language.

"And as you can see, it all ended up in a bunch of gibberish!" Rowena exclaimed, laughing it up.

"I'll say," Godric interrupted.

Rowena side-eyed him as he smiled and tended to another customer.

"Yes, Rowena. If you were going to live like a man, you'd have to learn how to behave like one, including fighting to the death for your fair maiden's hand."

Yuck! Rowena thought. As if a maiden's hand should be won that way, how savage!

"Are you saying you're a fair maiden?" Daniel asked Grospatrick, eyes suddenly seductive and voice growing gravely.

"Don't know about that, but I do know that you're my prize," Grospatrick said softly. "And I won." He then kissed Daniel's hand, causing Daniel to tear up.

"Disgusting!" a patron nearby shouted. "Everyone, looky here! Two faggy fairies and their hag!"

Uh oh! They had forgotten they were in public.

Suddenly, Rowena and her friends found themselves the center of some attention.

"Now, see here!" Rowena shouted as she stood up. She had no idea what she was going to say next and her mind went blank. "These...uh...gentlemen have every right to display their…"

And with that, the crowd started to shout various forms of profanity at them and some started throwing mugs, plates, parcels of food, and other projectiles at them.

Rowena, Grospatrick, and Daniel huddled in close defensively, hoping to figure out a way to escape.

Suddenly a loud whistling noise rang and a huge scarlet flame rose from behind the bar.

"What's the problem?!" shouted Godric waving his wand, controlling the fire.

"We got a couple of bleeding homos!" a drunken man shouted.

"Kill them!" one shouted

"Burn them!" yelled another.

"Fetch the faggot sticks!" a woman's shrill voice shrieked.

"Godric's got the flame, he can burn them!" Said another man.

"Yeah...uh...kill them!" shouted the shaking minstrel as he readied his cittern to make an escape.

"Enough!" Godric bellowed as his voice echoed throughout the hall.

All eyes were on him now, including the persecuted three.

"Everyone in this tavern has sinned, multiple times I might add." Godric scanned the room, prompting the patrons to look around and notice all the debauchery, gambling, slovenliness, and sex going on. "Look at yourselves!" Godric pointed to a fat friar who was pouring wine down a lady's bosom.

"That's right!" Salazar shouted from the kitchen, holding a pot of what Rowena thought looked like a sauce of some kind. "These past few days, all of you have behaved yourselves in a manner that would make the Lord above shriek! Absolutely undignified!"

"Ain't nobody's got the right to judge," Helga said, right behind the saucier.

"But Godric, this behavior crosses several lines!" a drunken priest shouted, pointing at Grospatrick and Daniel.

This prompted more rebukes and a huge shouting match.

Finally, Rowena had enough. It was her time to give an ear-shattering whistle.

"Look at yourselves!" Rowena shouted, face hot with raging heat. She exhaled to calm herself and continued. "In the times of the barbarians, they judged who won an argument by who could shout the loudest. We are nearing the end of the first millennium, haven't we all moved beyond this? Shouldn't we argue and discuss and debate in a mild manner? Let's not allow yourselves to devolve back to cavemen. No, we are all wizards and yes, witches, of a certain tier. We came here to fight in the trials to prove how advanced wizardry has become. If we represent the height of human intellect, then don't we owe it to ourselves to be the examples of advanced thought and behavior? Let us celebrate and embrace rationality and logic and..."

"Shut up with the hysterics!" one person shouted.

"We'll stop if she'll stop!" Another person responded.

"Who the hell is she?"

"Ok, mom!"

"Nice body! How much?"

"It's still gross…"

Godric leaned in and whispered to Rowena's ear, "Nice try, but I'll handle this one."

Godric jumped up onto the bar, stomping his feet. Suddenly, Godric had a captive audience who turned towards the sound of thumping and the vision of a barrel chested man peacocking along the bar.

"I don't care what any of you fellas think. These men got coin and will spend it here. Anyone wanting to get at them will have to go through me!" Suddenly Godric showed off his wand and Rowena swore it glistened for effect.

"Well, nevermind…"

"Let's just pretend we didn't see…"

"We'll get them later."

After a few moments, things at the tavern went back to its normal sort of controlled chaos, with dirty gazes going in Rowena, Grospatrick, and Daniel's direction.

"Say, Godric, my man, thank you for doing that." Grospatrick slapped Godric on his arm in gratitude and bowed to him.

"Hey, don't you be gettin' any ideas. I like the hole not the pole!"

"Ah...I didn't…" Grospatrick stammered.

"Oh lord!" Rowena responded, slumping down.

"What?" Godric responded.

Rowena shook her head at him, refusing to face this provincial man.

"Look, I'm glad to make sure innocent people don't get hurt, but I don't want that lot thinking I'm a prize bull ready for their taking, now do I?"

"If to be in a state of ignorance is paradise, then this is Eden," Rowena responded.

"Godric," the old man making special tonics and elixirs behind the bar said, "some man is looking for a Professor Cull. Is he here? He needs some sort of elixir only he can make."

"That's you, Carannog," Helga Hufflepuff said as she exited the kitchen, hands full with prepared dishes.

Rowena looked wide-eyed in disbelief at the man who didn't remember his own name.

Suddenly, the sounds of quarreling increased in volume as it made its way from the kitchen to the bar area accompanied by more shouting from patrons ordering more mugs of ale and shots of tonic.

A girl of eleven came out shouting at a heavily red-cheeked girl of about sixteen.

"I told you! Ms. Hufflepuff told us to share that roasted hen!" the younger shouted.

"It ain't a big deal! Don't need to go shoutin' at me, missy! We can just cook somethin' else for you to eat!"

"Something else? Ms. Hufflepuff don't just make mismash for me to eat, you know? She got pride in her cookin'! Every dish takes time and now we ain't got time! These orders never stop!"

"Well, it's too late to do anything about it now!" the older girl smirked.

The younger looked ready to launch at her elder as she shaked with rage.

The two girls began to shout closer together and looked as if they were about ready to go into fisticuffs.

"What's going on here?" Helga commanded the girls to answer while wiping some grease on her heavily soaked apron.

The two girls stopped in their tracks and stared blankly at their superior.

"We ain't got enough work here without you two being at each other's throats? Lord help me, I need another pair of hands!" Helga said.

"And what am I? Rubbish? I've been leading that kitchen for the past hour or so as you've been in the weeds on the meat station!" Salazar asked from the kitchen. Rowena began to wonder if this man only existed to give quick quips from the kitchen.

Helga and Salzar began to bicker amongst themselves about whose kitchen it was.

Then, a boy of about thirteen rushed past Salazar from the kitchen and approached Helga. "Sorry, Ms. Hufflepuff, but I couldn't find another barrel of that Brighton beer you said was back there. Mr. Gryffindor sure needs it fast."

"Oy, Roddy, am I in charge of the liquor too?!" Helga shouted.

"Too?" Salazar asked sarcastically.

Rowena laughed as she watched these two interact with one another. They were like oil and water, which sometimes works well with one another, but they need to be at the right temperature.

"Where is that Mouffat?" Helga asked, waving Salazar away much to his chagrin.

"Don't look to me, girlie!" Mouffat shouted nearby.

Suddenly, heads turned towards the dining area.

Rowena couldn't believe what she was seeing. Little Miss Mouffat had the heads of two ladies of the night's in what looked to be tight headlocks.

"Me hands are full with these louses tryin' to steal our tips!" Mouffat added, struggling to keep control of these women.

Tavern were certainly rought places, Rowena thought, wondering if it was time for her to leave.

"They're...ouch...they're our...hey!" one of them was struggling to say.

"They're our bloody tips you old hag!" the other managed to shout. "That man gave them to us when we let me suckle that Targaryean Tonic from our…" Mouffat tightened her grip before she could finish that sentence.

"Yeah!" the other managed to say now that Mouffat's grip was tighter on her friend. "We would never steal, NEVER!" The girl's eyes were now flowing with crocodile tears.

"I'm a good girl, I am!" she continued as she shook her cleavage in what Rowena thought was an appeal to the menfolk. "Cross me heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. If we stole any coin, then let a curse plague my family's line! Oh me heart's breakin' that you all thing I was a thief!" Then the girl exaggeratedly began to have an episode of the fits.

Rowena rolled her eyes at the over-dramatics so far that she wouldn't be surprised all people saw were back of them.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks." Rowena shook her head at the dramatics of the girl.

"Eh, what's that you say?" the girl with the fake fits said, fully coherent now and not longer struggling against Mouffat's grip.

"I like your style, lady," Mouffat said to Rowena before dragging the resisting girls out of the tavern.

"Very succinct," Salazar replied.

Rowena smiled at the compliment. It was nice to see someone who was capable of multi-syllabic words and complex sentences around here. Something told her to keep an eye on this one as he could be a useful ally. She then heard a huff from Helga nearby.

"Excuse me, Miss?" The young boy called Roddy shyfully approached Rowena, head down and feet dragging with his shoulders slumped.

"Yes lad?" Rowena answered.

"Um...sorry to bother you but…" Roddy's feet started to shuffle and he grew more visibly nervous.

"It's ok, lad, say what you got to say!" Godric encouraged the boy.

"It's ok, she won't bite," Helga responded.

Pfft, how does she know? Rowena thought growing more annoyed.

Despite her growing annoyance, the boy looked sweet enough, so Rowena offered a warm smile and beckoned him to continue.

"Well, the thing you said earlier...the thing about 'methinks'..."

"Yes?" Rowena asked, becoming curious if this boy wanted to work on his eloquence.

"Um...isn't it 'I thinks'?" the boy asked, waiting for a serious answer.

Rowena, Godric, Salazar, and Helga gaped at the boy.

"Not in your case, lad," Mouffat replied, rolling her eyes before tending to another table.

After a beat, Godric sighed as he led the boy to the kitchen to find the barrel of Brighton beer.

"And this is supposed to be a gathering of the most brilliant minds of Britain?" Rowena asked.

"The sad part that it is," Salazar responded as the two shared a laugh.

Helga and Godric stared at the two of them with a stern look of displeasure.

"A bunch of snobs you two are, aren't you?" Helga replied.

"I beg your pardon, but you can't say this tavern has really shown itself to be the epicenter of high intellect and culture, now can you?" Rowena replied.

"Oh yeah, we just dumb folks round here!" Godric replied exiting the kitchen with the barrel of Brighton Beer, before mimicking a great ape, scratching the top of his head.

His antics lightened the mood as Helga, Salazar, and Rowena laughed along as Godric hammed it up.

He certainly enjoys the spotlight, Rowena thought.

Helga, Salazar, and the two kitchen girls soon followed, with Helga and Salazar arguing as to whose fault it was that the last three tables' orders weren't moving out of the kitchen quicker.

"I think it's time to move on," Daniel finally said. Funny, Rowena had forgotten she was with Grospatrick and Daniel just now.

Daniel was right, she had grown tired of this place, and was ready to head elsewhere. But where were they going at this time of night?

"Are going to London already?" Rowena asked.

"Rowena…" Daniel began to say, nudging Grospatrick to finish his sentence.

"Darling," Grospatrick said. "Daniel and I aren't going to London."

"What? But that's where the Trials and Festival is taking place. The only reason you came to this God forsaken country was to compete and make a name for yourself!"

"No, it was a ruse," Grospatrick answered.

"A ruse?"

"Yes, you're not the only one who can come up with one," Grospatrick laughed. "It's just that, Daniel and I…"

"We're taking this time to travel East under the guise of a merchant and his assistant. We're actually heading to this isolated island near Greece where wizards like us have formed a safe…"

"I see…" Rowena interrupted, deeply concerned about her position now.

"But now that you're here, you can come with us!" Daniel exclaimed as he jumped up and down in excitement and grabbed hold of Rowena.

"Yes, there's no reason for you not to travel with us, now that you know everything. I would love to have my best friend and my love with me! It's everything we dreamed of, Rowena. Running away, escaping everything, and having adventures together!" Grospatrick now seemed engrossed as his body seemed lifted as he grew more animated and excited at the prospect.

"Please come! We can be a family! Sister, brother, and his husband!" Daniel pleaded, also sharing in Grospatrick's excitement.

"I can't." Rowena simply said, not daring to look Grospatrick or Daniel in the eye.

"Why not?!" Daniel demanded.

"Think about it, what's here for you?" Grospatrick asked.

Rowena turned to face Grospatrick. His face showed that he really could not fathom why she would stay. Maybe he didn't understand her at all.

"The Trials!"

"That's it?" Grospatrick asked.

"That's it?! That's everything!" How could Grospatrick say such a thing! This was probably the most important event of their lives. This was a chance for them to show every wizard of merit why they should also invited to join them in their scholarly pursuits to further magic's cause. This was a chance to become extraordinary! How could he throw it all away?

"Darling, you're not going to win the trials nor will you make it far."

"Excuse me?!" Rowena felt her heart ache and a knot in the pit of her stomach. Is this what he truly thought about her? Did he also share in the opinion of others in her clan that she was just some ridiculous girl with flights of fancy and delusions of grandeur?

"They won't give you the time of day." Grospatrick clarified. "You're a brilliant witch, Rowena, but that's not enough."

"What do you mean?" Rowena implored. She needed to hear some reassurance.

"Well...you're a woman." Grospatrick declared, as if it was that statement was self-explanatory.

"I have so many things to show them, surely they'll be impressed if I show them…" Rowena understood what Grospatrick meant, but surely the most brilliant minds in Britain can overcome such prejudices, can't they?

"If. That's the word. They won't let you sign up. And even if they do, they''ll ignore you."

"But you know what I've been working on! What I've been spending all my sleepless nights…"

"It won't matter. Remember when that crowd wanted to kill us earlier?"

"Yes...but that's different." Surely, it was different. Being a woman was natural, at least people didn't question that women existed, but two men being together as man and woman? Of course, that would be treated differently.

"No, it's not. It's all about who you are. They wouldn't even listen to us because of who we are. It took that bartender who they all love and respect because of the way he is...normal." Grospatrick pointed to Godric who was now back at the bar, pretending not to listen in and doing a piss-poor job of it.

"Ok, but what's that gotta do with me?" Rowena asked, thinking Grospatrick was overestimating the role her sex would play in her life. Sure people will be skeptical, but she could easily overcome that, can't she?

"They won't listen to you because you're a woman. Plain and simple. You only exist to produce heirs for titled gentlemen! Now if you were that bartender, everyone will listen to you no matter what stupid ideas you had."

"Gee, thanks!" Godric said before remembering he was supposed to look like he wasn't listening. Godric then turned away and began to whistle as if none of them heard him and he hadn't blown his cover.

"People like him have the world as their oyster. Things will come to him. For us, nothing will ever come. We have to make our happiness where we can and just live with it."

"I just think you're overstating how my sex will prevent me from…"

"Think of Thebe!"

Suddenly Rowena felt a heavy stone drop in her gut and she wanted to vomit.

"If she were a boy, would her family have thrown away all of her potential? You said it yourself, she was the most brilliant pupil you ever did see, didn't you?"

Rowena's eyes welled up as her aching heart ached more. "Yes, she was."

"But because she was a girl, she sent off to marry some Highlander clan leader instead of being able to finish her studies. And no matter how you argued and protested, nobody listened to you right?"

Rowena could still hear Thebe's cries and pleas to not leave the school as she was carried off. She remembered the way Thebe shouted how afraid she was to be married off to some strange man from some strange clan in some strange land. This was not Rowena's first failure, but it was one that she would never forgive herself for. She would never let another girl suffer Thebe's fate.

Grospatrick may be right. Rowena couldn't face him because looking at him now would be like staring at the cold hard truth. She simply wasn't prepared to do so at this moment.

"So, just come with us. It's safer and easier. Learn to be happy with less."

Happy with less...

Rowena thought about everything Grospatrick had said. Logically, it all made sense. His argument was backed up by history. She lived her entire life being told all she was good for was to marry well. All of her life, her spinster aunts and her Granny told her she was useless because she was a girl. Couldn't contribute to the family.

Then as she came of age and refused to marry and rejected every available suitor, how she couldn't fulfill her duties as a woman. How her youth and beauty had been wasted on her. How she escaped to the comfort of her studies and books. The way Grannie indulged her need for education but scorned her at every turn, lamenting that she had made a mistake that was too late to rectify. How her continued dive into higher and higher education was just a sign that her family had given up on her prospects as a woman.

How she was constantly warned that wanting to be too much would lead her astray and could lead to madness...just like it left her mother. If she tried for more, she'd end up locked up in an isolated room away from the rest of the family as well - treated as if she were some feral cat ready to strike with her claws if one got too close….

Except Rowena knew what it was like to get too close to the feral cat.

Before she left, she sneaked up into the tower of the manor she was forbidden to roam. Once a sleeping spell had been cast upon her mother's keeper, she finally saw her mad mother after years of being kept separated from her. The supposed genius who was insane, whose wailings sometimes echoed the halls of the manor. The one who supposedly killed her husband in an experiment gone wrong. Rowena had to see for herself if the woman was a dangerous loon, as she had been told all of her life.

Instead of a crazed hellcat, what Rowena saw was a beautiful statuesque woman, pale as the moonlight, raven-haired like her, and carrying a certain dignified aura around her. Ysenda Laigle Ravenclaw turned to see who had dared enter her domain.

As Rowena approached, her mother smiled tenderly, and invited Rowena to come close. Her mother grabbed hold of Rowena's face and stared deeply into her eyes. There was such instant connection, an exchange of energy, feelings, and thoughts between the two. It was against nature for such a thing to occur but for those two, it felt like as if this had been written in the stars. Rowena knew her mother was digging deep inside of her, wanting to sense every inner turmoil Rowena had suffered, ever ounce of ambition Rowena tried to suppress, every fit of rage Rowena succumbed to when she had been told 'no'.

After this exchange, her mother softly embraced her, laid Rowena's head upon her bosom, kissed her forehead, and sang her a soothing lullaby.

"The ravenclawed eagle must fly away...fly away...fly away…fly away...

To take its own flight...in the dark of night and the light of day...of day...of day...of day...
For only then can she return...return...return...return…
To tell of what it has learned….has learned….has learned…has learned...
She must take flight all alone...alone...alone...alone...
Only then can she find a place she may call her home...her home...her home...her home."

Rowena remembered this song. The melody triggered her young years when she was still in her mother's custody. Images flowed in no order whatsoever...images of her mother studying over some complicated formula and she scribbled notes...the handsome face of her father, who looked at the two of them with such love….the way they danced and sang with her...taught her...encouraged and beckoned her to speak or learn some new trick...how proud they were when she hit some milestone...the fights...the glasses breaking...the vases flying...the punches landing...the tears of sorrow flowing...the screaming...the explosion! The screaming...the shrieking...the pleading...the raging...

Ysenda squeezed Rowena close, breaking her free of these memories. As if she felt Rowena's body tense and grow uneasy, Ysenda whispered, "My wings were clipped, but yours have not. You can be and you will be the greatest wizard...if you want it."

That was everything Rowena had wanted to hear. She hugged her mother tightly - clung onto her with all of her might. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this room with her forever. Tears fell down her cheek and flowed freely. Her mother caressed her hair and gently scratched her scalp, releasing all the tension that had built up inside of her.

"But," her mother continued, "you have to be prepared for everything you must do to become it and everything that will happen to you once you achieve it."

Her mother grabbed her cheeks again and again stared into her eyes. Gone was the lovingly maternal gaze. Instead was a cold, harsh stare of a woman whose dreams were never realized and whose expectations were never met. Just like their previous exchange of energies, now Ysenda transferred the heavy burden of ambition and expectation onto Rowena's shoulders.

Then she was carried away before Rowena could share anything back.

Of course, she was caught. Did she think she could get away with it?

A few days after, the Ravenclaw clan came together and explicitly forbade Rowena from ever seeing her mother again and that they planned to cast her out to another house, one Rowena would never find. The last words Grannie said to her during this meeting was that had the hint of madness inside of her, and she must learn to curb it or it would manifest itself into a giant internal creature that would end up enveloping her entire existence.

It was shortly after where Rowena heard that Britain was going to host the first ever Wizard's Council's Trials and Festival in the old Roman city of London. Her mind started to race on how she could fly away.

"Rowena?" Grospatrick asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must went elsewhere for a second."

"Daniel and I were saying we're ready to leave, and we're taking you with us."

"I'm sorry Grospatrick dear, but I can't. I have to stay."

Before Grospatrick could protest, Rowena simply stared into his eyes. Everything about his reaction to her stare indicated she succeeded in conveying that she was going to stay and prove her worth at the Trials.

Grospatrick, eyes welling up, simply kissed Rowena on her cheeks, and wished her luck. Told her to stay vigilant and careful, and to take care of herself.

Daniel followed by aggressively kissing Rowena on the cheeks the way those strange folk on the continent do before heading off with his love.

Rowena watched them both leave, and sighed. She had no idea if she would see either of them again. The sudden realization that she may no longer have Grospatrick in her life hit her, and she felt as if she had just lost someone in war. It was taking everything from her to not start bawling right there at the bar.

"Can I get you another drink?" Godric asked, eyes full of sympathy and warmth. This was the last thing Rowena wanted. To have this caveman feel sorry for her. What did he know about it? What did he know about anything? Life came easy for him, that was clear from the way he acted. As if the world was just there for him to feast upon.

"No, thank you." Rowena's body grew stiff. "I think I had enough. I'd like a room please."

Godric burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Rowena's body loosened as she was ready to ring this man's neck!

"Honey, there isn't any room left at the Inn."

"What? But where will I sleep?" Rowena began to bite her nails, as she grew more concerned with her sleeping arrangements for the night.

"I don't know? You can camp outside?" Godric shrugged as he wiped down some mugs.

"Outside? Eeew!" Rowena's nose crunched up.

"I thought you were the adventurous type! 'Oh Rowena, we can finally go on our adventures!'" Godric said, mocking Grospatrick.

"I am!" Rowena slapped Godric's arm to reprimand him. "But I have my limits. And why were you listening?"

"You were having your heartfelt goodbye right in front of me, what was I to do?"

"Anything else. Don't you know how to keep busy?" Rowena sat back down on her stool.

"I sure do!" Godric winked. "Speaking of, there might be a bed for you after all." Godrid playfully raised his eyebrows.

"No thank you, I use my bed for sleeping." Rowena, raised her ching and posture grew straight.

Rowena and Godric exchanged looks and both couldn't help but giggle. Godrid offered her an easy smile, which made Rowena's face flush across her cheeks. They were enjoying this exchange.

"May I ask?" Godric said, breaking the chuckle fest.

"I have a feeling you're going to ask whether or not I say you may."

"Gee, you are smart."

"Hardy-har-har," Rowena responded.

"What do you see in that dweeb anyway?" Godric asked, busying himself with wiping the mugs, as if he was trying to avoid eye contact with Rowena.

"Dweeb? What dweeb?" Rowena grew increasingly incensed. How dare he speak of her best friend that way! He doesn't know him at all!

"Your Gross Patrick."

"Don't say his name like that!" Rowena demanded, slamming her palms on the bar.

"Like what?" Godric responded, this time not breaking eye contact with her giving her a look as if daring her to look away.

"Like you're saying Gross Patrick. You're emphasizing it a certain way."

"I am not!" Godric smirked.

"Yes you are!" Rowena yelled as she bounced up and down.

"Anyway, he's a dweeb." Godric shrugged his shoulders as if he was simply stating a fact.

"No, he is not! He's a brilliant wizard!" Rowena pointed her finger at Godric's chest. "He's a much better wizard than you and will always be! You just don't understand him because your mind can't even comprehend to see what he sees!"

"Like how he rejected you and how he sees how you're not good enough to even make an appearance at the trials?! You're right because I don't see that to be true."

The last comment stung. Her heart started to sting, and her face flushed with the heat of embarrassment. Before her eyes had time to water, Rowena grabbed her broom and bag and turned ready to make her exit.

"Listen," Godric began to rub the back of his head, "if you need a place to sleep for a few days before you compete at the Trials, why don't you work here as a waitress. As you can see, we're packed to the gills and this tavern can't expand anymore. With Roddy assisting me at the bar with Carannog and with Sal, Lovage, and Lettice helpin' Helga, Mouffat needs help servin and keeping the customers happy."

Rowena turned to face the horse's ass and assessed what he had just said.

"If you help out, I'm sure she'll let you sleep with her in the room she's sharing with Helga and Lettice."

Uncontrollable laughter began to overtake Rowena. She nearly bowled over.

"What's so funny?" Godric asked.

"Me? Work here? I'm sorry but no…" Rowena waved away such a suggestion.

"What? This job's beneath you or somethin'?" Godric asked pointedly.

"No, it's just...I mean...yes."

"You really are a snob! What you only think nobodies tend bar?"

"I mean," Rowena calmed, "if you were somebody of some repute, you wouldn't be spending your days behind a bar, would you?"

"If you knew who I was you wouldn't be saying that," Godric responded.

"Oh? I forgot. You're Godric the Gigantic." Rowena rolled her eyes.

"Yes I am," Godric responded, looking down to his crotch.

"Try anything with me with that thing, and you'll be walking funny tomorrow!" Rowena threatened.

Godric simply laughed at her attempt to be threatening.

"Funnier, I mean." Rowena added.

Godric grew visibly upset and he furrowed his brows.

"Why do you always make these jokes about me being some sort of cave man?" Godric asked as he leaned in closer to Rowena.

"Well, if he walks like a…"

"Alright, alright. But I don't walk like anything, ok?"

Rowena shrugged her shoulders as she relaxed in her seat, offering Godric a friendly smile in the hopes of a truce being formed.

Godric reluctantly looked Rowena's way and seemed as though he was surrendering, slumping her shoulders and shaking his bed. He then returned her friendly smile.

"But the nickname most round here call me," Godric said, "in public is 'The Great'. Anyway, you clearly need help so why not take the job? It'll solve your problem."

Before Rowena could respond, Mouffat dragged her way to the bar, order in hand. Rowena had to admit she could use the help. The landlady certainly looked worn out and overworked. She looked around and saw the tavern wasn't letting up any time soon. Still, her? A waitress?

Mouffat didn't bother with any of the usual flirtations Rowena had observed she usually gave him. "Godric," Mouffat yawned, "table 39 needs a Brighton Beer; an Allemande Ale; two siren ciders: one apple, one pear; a magician's mead hold the smoke; two water horse tonics: one steamed, one iced; a shug monkey elixir, extra salt, and a white wine, the cheaper the better."

Godric nodded as he grabbed Carannog's book of elixirs and tonics to prepare the drinks.

"Need help?" Rowena picked right up from where their last conversation was interrupted.

"It's obvious," Godric said as he collected more mugs for the order.

"Listen," Rowena said, "I was able to fool you into thinking I was a man, didn't I? And I got here all by myself, didn't I? What makes you think I would be so desperate to work here with someone who makes sexual advances at me every ten seconds?"

"Every twenty seconds, and it's clear that outside a few parlour tricks…"

"Parlour tricks?" Rowena said indignantly.

"That's right, parlour tricks," Godric emphasized the following beat as if he loved torturing her, "outside of those, you're not accustomed to the outside world and you wouldn't know how to survive in it the way everyone else around here does. So you need this job to house you and protect you while you hopefully make a few friends to travel with and thus burdening them with your presence as you make your way to the Trials in a few days. Plus..."

"Plus what?"

"Plus, the image of 'Godric the Gigantic' has never left your mind." Godric smirked, glass in hand.

Rowena couldn't hold her mock gagging any longer.

"That's right," Rowena began to say "I may not be well-equipped to deal with ruffians and ignoramuses and fiends. But I have a mind. A bright mind, I may add! I'm not ashamed to say it. Why must I hide it?"

This time, it was Godric's turn to gag.

"With this!" Rowena pointed to her temple, interrupting Godric's gaggin, "I can figure my way out of any predicament. And I will find a place to stay and a job if I have to. A job that best suits my gifts too! Just you watch, I can take care of myself!"

Grabbing her broom, Rowena readied herself to head out of the tavern when she overheard Godric bellow out.

"Oh for Saturn's sake, what am I making again?"

Rowena rolled her eyes. Some professional he was.

"For pity's sake," Rowena said, "you're making a Brighton Beer; an Allemande Ale; two siren ciders: one apple, one pear; a magician's mead hold the smoke; two water horse tonics: one steamed, one iced; a shug monkey elixir, extra salt, and…."

Godric smile grew wide as Rowena finished repeating the order.

"...a white wine, the cheaper the better."

It suddenly dawned on Rowena that this may be the job she needed to fill the next few days after all, much to her distress. Seriously, she had no place to spend the night, and it was clear these people needed help. This short-term job would allow her to make some coin and give her a room to sleep in for the next few nights.

She looked to Godric who was itching for her to continue with that nefarious smirk of his.

"Ok, maybe my skillset would not be totally wasted here," Rowena conceded haughtily.

Suddenly, Mouffat rushed to Rowena and hugged her close.

"Thank God you're interested! You're hired, my lady!"

Mouffat squeezed tighter and would not let go.

Rowena looked to Godric in desperation, and he simply spelled out with his wand behind Mouffat's back, "Go ahead and take care of yourself!" before turning his back to make the drinks.

Suddenly, Helga and Salazar came out of the kitchen to ask Mouffat why she wasn't picking up any of the orders ready to be served when they saw the image of Mouffat crying and profusely thanking this strange woman.

Lettuce, stepping out of the kitchen with Roddy and Lovage, looked on, mouth agape at seeing Mouffat in this state.

"Wait," Rowena said as she pushed Mouffat away, tired of being a spectacle. "I haven't fully accepted, yet."

"Oh, what's the hold up? This job has a lot of benefits other than room, board, and coin," Godric replied.

"Oh, and what's that?" Rowena said, hands on her hips.

"An unforgettable adventure at Godric's Landing," he responded, raising both of his eyebrows with that now familiar naughty smirk.

"Oh, and where's that?" Rowena asked with a side eye.

Godric grabbed three limes and answered, "Upstairs in Room," Godric started to juggle the limes, "Two. Sixty. Nine." The limes landing perfectly in-line on his right hand.

"No, thank you," Rowena replied, before offering her own smirk. "I prefer my adventures to take place somewhere...hot!"

This caused Salazar and Helga to hoot and holler at Godric's expense. However, instead of being incensed, Godric gave Rowena what she felt was his first genuine smile towards her.

---

The Next Day

Godric, Helga, and Salazar sat comfortably behind the bar as they watched the newly hired Rowena Ravenclaw shakily balanced a large tray of heavy dishes as she made her way to serve her very first table. Visions of her dropping the entire track with all of the food splattering all over the dining hall followed her as she balanced the heavy tray.

"Ok…" Rowena said at the approach of her seven top. "Here we go. We had one glazed pigeon with extra potatoes," Rowena said as she carefully handed a plate down to a gentleman. She continued feeling a boost of confidence at his smile. "One rack of lamb with two plates for sharing, one gammon with parsley sauce, two hens one with no gravy, and beef and onion with three helpings of carrots."

Success! Rowena nearly jumped up in excitement as she handled her first table, but she noticed that nobody dug into their food.

"Excuse me, miss?" a nearby voice called out.

Rowena turned to a table a few steps away to the left.

"Yes?" Rowena asked, angry that this man who interrupted the euphoric high of a faultless table service. .

"Those are our orders," the man at the other table stated, and his fellow tablemates nodded their heads.

Rowena looked at the patrons at the table in front of her and who simply nodded their head indicating hat the other table's representative was correct. Rowena stole a glance at the bar while Godric, Helga, and Salazar laughed on.

"Uh…" Rowena now had to figure out a way to grab these plates back onto the tray and make her way to the other table.

Then another, better idea popped into her head.

"If I could impose upon you good people," Rowena said with a loud timbre, "if you could save me a few steps and…"

The members of both tables nodded and offered friendly smiles as they exchanged seats, prompting Rowena to smile cheerily at the three gawkers behind the bar.

They smiled warmly back at her in response - something she would grow accustomed to and would desire to see often.

---

A/N: Happy to have this chapter done! Please let me know if you guys are enjoying where this fic is going.

For the next chapter, as the Founding Four prepare to move their merry way on to London, they enjoy one final night at the tavern where everybody knows their name, including those they wish did not.