Written for the QLFC S3 Round 13 as a reserve for Beater 2

Rowena Ravenclaw sat primly in her stiff wooden chair, nodding occasionally to the overweight minister in front of her. He was utterly repulsive. It was a fact she had decided on the moment she had set her eyes on him. It didn't help that he was trying to court her, while at the same time, his greedy pig eyes kept drifting down to her nether regions. In her peripheral vision, she could spot her mother trying not to glare at her, while her father seemed resigned to the fact that she had, and always would, reject every suitor that didn't meet her standards.

Not all of them had been as walrus-like and disgusting as the minister. No, it wasn't their looks that had been the problem. She had everyone from handsome princes to courageous soldiers who had tried for her hand. She simply dismissed them altogether.

They were all blithering idiots.

Rowena had high hopes for them at first. She was a high class woman after all, and they were high class men. Surely, there had to have been had to have been be someone she could actually hold a conversation with? But unfortunately, that person had yet to appear.

With the air of a woman resigned to the guillotine, she mentally tuned back into the conversation. Putting her napkin daintily on the table, she quietly cleared her throat to get his attention. He stopped talking immediately. Rowena rose silently.

"I'm afraid I am not feeling well today," she said with the utmost politeness she could muster. "I would like to retire to my chambers, if you do not mind?"

The minister (she hadn't bothered to remember his name) also hurriedly stood with her. "I could escort you there." His smile grew lustful as he eyed her figure. "Perhaps you could show me some… activities that you like to do."

"That will not be necessary," she said in the same tone as before. The room had grown significantly colder, and her parents shot her a warning look. In a second, the room was back to its regular temperature. She managed a strained smile at him.

"Excuse me," she bowed in courtesy to him, and quickly made her escape.

Once in her chambers, she collapsed onto her four poster bed in fury. She was a witch. She wasn't useless! She was smart and cunning and could fend for herself if needed. And her parents expected her to find a rich husband and get married soon? Their church didn't like to force anyone into a marriage or else she would be betrothed a long time ago.

The only good news she had heard all day was that her dearest friend, Salazar was coming over for a visit soon. They had met when they were younger while paying social visits and Rowena had been delighted that they shared similar interests. However, because of this, her parents were under the impression that they were secretly in love. She had never felt anything other than companionship for him, let alone love, and yet they insisted on keeping them as separate as possible.

Rowena glumly stared up at her arched ceiling of her room. She longed to enter the secret hiding place in their mansion and run her fingers along her beautiful wand. To feel the power coursing through her as she made spells come to life. She wanted to be able to practice her magic freely and learn even more. But alas, that was not plausible. The townspeople had started to look for witches and wizards. Her parents were even more cautious, especially after they had starting burning 'witches' in Salem. Now, her lessons in magic came once a fortnight, instead of every second day.

Rowena quickly sat up and shook her head firmly. It would do no good to think like that, she scolded herself. Calling for her maid, she was quickly undressed and in bed within the hour.

With the oil lamps now out, the room was dark and full of shifting shadows. It was winter and the sky was pitch-black by this time of night. As sleep began to drag down at her eyes, her last thought was: 'I hope Salazar gets here soon.'

…

Waiting eagerly for someone to arrive meant that time moved slower. This was a fact that Rowena quickly found out. At the very least, there would be no more suitors that week so she could spend her time reading in the library.

The library was her favourite place in the world. It was as large as their ballroom and the Great Hall and held an endless shelves of books and scrolls. They towered above her and the higher ones even needed a ladder in order to reach the books. As a child, Rowena had spent countless hours in the room wanting to satisfy her curiosity. Still, even the library could not hold off her impatience for that day for much longer. Rowena paced her chambers absently, wondering when her friend would get here.

It was then she heard an urgent knocking on her window. Rowena's eyes narrowed and her finger twitched, wanting her wand. But her interest outwitted her feeling of danger and she cautiously crept towards the drawn curtains. What she saw made her normally polite mask drop and shatter.

It was Salazar, and he was floating outside her window.

In an instant, she had it opened and he drifted through, landing neatly on her carpet. She looked at him furiously.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed angrily. The nerve of him! He was even holding his wand out in the open! "What if someone saw you? Don't you know what's been happening in Salem?"

His eyes darted around; his face had lost its usual composure. It was that fact that stopped Rowena from the tirade that was breaking out. After she calmed down enough, she opened her mouth to interrogate him. That was when she noticed the other boy sitting on her floor. He looked youthful, but scruffy. His face, brown and freckled, was smudged with dirt and debris.

A peasant, she deduced. But why would Salazar bring a lower class person with him on his trip here? And for that matter, why would he sneak into her room with him?

"I don't have time to explain," Salazar said to her in low, clipped tones. "Don't tell anyone you saw me, and don't tell anyone about him." His head jerked towards the boy.

This prompted a protest. "My name is Godric," he said loudly. They ignored him.

"I need to go," Salazar said, and vaulted out the window before she could protest. She huffed in irritation.

Rowena floundered for only a moment.

She glanced at the boy, who was staring around the room in fascination. After a while, he seemed to realize she was watching him, and turned to stare at her as well. Just as he looked like he was about to say something, the trumpet sounded, proclaiming the arrival of the Slytherins. The boy flinched, and whatever he was about to say seemed to die down in his throat.

Rowena shot the boy a look. "Don't move from my chambers," she instructed. "If anyone comes in, hide. Got it?"

Without a further word, she straightened her skirts and swept off to greet her guests. It was time to fix whatever other trouble Salazar had undoubtedly brought with him.

(It wouldn't be the last.)