The beautiful and familiar meadow was as tranquil as ever on the glorious summer's day. A gorgeous doe and her young fawn were lightly drinking water from the stream, sheltered from the heat by the trees above. Suddenly, a noise from the forest startled the new mother and she called out to her fawn to follow her as they fled the scene. Just as the two of them disappeared through the bushes on the opposite side of the meadow, two horses and their riders hurtled through the gap in the dense trees. They raced cheering and laughing across the length of the meadow, around the small clump of bushes, and back towards the magnificent oak that had stood in the centre of the meadow for hundreds of years. The two young men dismounted and the taller of the two threw himself down onto the grass, resting under the shade of the tree. The other folded himself next to his friend as they allowed their horses to rest and graze for a while.
It was clear from the latter's clothing that he was a very high-born lad. Silver and golden rings inlaid with large, multi-coloured gems adorned his fingers and the collar of his navy blue tunic was woven with gold thread. He had piercing, grey eyes framed by long, light lashes and hair whiter than snow that flowed down in waves to his refined shoulders. His face was extremely handsome with both of his cheek bones well defined and hollowed out while his lips were plump and inviting. There was often a mischievous look upon his angelic face that would make you wonder whether or not he was half demon. His slightly taller friend seemed like a giant in comparison. This large young man was wearing clothes that were notably less fine though clearly nowhere near poor. His rich, auburn coloured hair twisted in small ringlet around his boyish face that did not match his large, burly body. He had brown eyes so dark in shade they almost looked black, though they were the warmest and most inviting eyes anyone would ever see. This boy was also extremely handsome but in a completely different way to his friend, they seemed to be complete opposites of one another.
Both of these young men seemed to be enjoying the blissful heatwave that was so unusual to their country. The auburn haired youth took a deep swig of wine from his leather skin and passed it to his friend. His snowy haired friend smirked and took it gladly, drinking deeply and smacking his lips before handing it back. After popping the cork back into the top of his wineskin and propping it against the old oak tree, the auburn haired boy laid face-up on the grass with his eyes closed and after just a second of hesitation the snowy haired boy joined him. For a few minutes the two boys lay on the ground, soaking up the sun in silence before the curly-haired boy broke it with a loud and throaty chuckle.
"What on earth are you laughing at, Godric?" the snowy haired boy asked his friend, turning his head slightly towards him.
"I was remembering our night in the tavern two nights ago," the boy called Godric replied with a huge grin stretching across his face, "and that muggle wench you took a fancy to."
"How dare you! Suggest that I, Salazar Eamon Slytherin, would ever tarry with a muggle," he replied, sitting up abruptly. A hint of a smile plagued his face as he continued, "Was she visually appealing? Most definitely. Yet I would not dare stoop that low, my friend."
"You only say that because of that beast of a fiancé of hers," Godric laughed.
"There is no way I would ever be afraid of a mere muggle," Salazar sniffed.
"He was bigger than even me!"
"Just because you were afraid, Godric, doesn't mean I was," Salazar replied, wiggling his pale eyebrows in defiance.
Instead of rising to the bait, Godric merely doubled over in laughter at his very serious friend. After a moment Salazar joined him and the two boys rolled around, unable to control themselves. Before Salazar had the time to compose himself, his friend pounced and Godric held him in a tight headlock. In retaliation, Salazar managed to flip Godric onto his back and that released his hold on his neck enabling him to break free. After a few more minutes of this playful fighting the two of them fell about laughing again and taking even deeper swigs of Godric's wine.
"Ah, that's the sweetest wine I have ever tasted," Salazar exclaimed, smacking his lips in appreciation.
"The only thing the French are good for," Godric replied, "wine." The two boys laughed and sipped the wineskin again in turn.
"I have something to show you," said Salazar while passing the wineskin to Godric, "my father gave it to me this morning." Getting up from the ground Salazar walked over to his horse and retrieved an object covered in an ornate piece of fabric and brought it back over to where they were sitting. Slowly unwrapping the folds of cloth, Salazar showed Godric the object beneath. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
Underneath the ornate fabric was a beautiful, silver dagger with a gorgeous, golden hilt inlaid with heavy dark gems of varying shades of brown, blue, and black. It was sheathed in casing almost identical to the hilt and was the most beautiful knife either of them had ever seen. Unmistakably engraved on the silver of the dagger was the Slytherin coat of arms, intricate and faint. Godric's eyes opened in wonder as he looked upon the dagger and his face beamed as he fully appreciated the piece of weaponry.
"It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," said Godric in awe.
"Even more beautiful than the tavern wench?" Salazar smirked.
"Far, far, far more beautiful than the tavern wench," Godric replied as Salazar guffawed, "Goblin made?"
"That's what my father told me," said Salazar, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Godric looked up at his friend with knowing eyes.
"Want to talk about it?" asked Godric.
"No."
The two of them sat quietly for a while, Godric still examining the blade. Salazar seemed to be lost in his thoughts and Godric knew that he did not want to be disturbed. He knew that his friend loved his father dearly, yet he also knew that Eamon Slytherin was one of the most formidable men he had ever met. His temper was legendary throughout the kingdoms and he was highly respected in all of the European courts. It's a shame, Godric thought, that he does not spend very much time at home with his family. Godric almost pitied the man but he would never admit to pitying his friend. Salazar was far too proud for that.
"Will you be entering the tournament?" Salazar finally broke their silence.
"Definitely," Godric grinned, "are you?"
"Of course," replied Salazar, smirking, "I can hardly wait to beat you."
"You may have to keep dreaming for that," Godric answered with a wink. The two boys laughed again, Godric jabbing Salazar lightly with his fist.
"You'll need more than brawn to win, friend."
"I'll still have the advantage on you."
"Doubtful," Salazar laughed, "Will you be entering the duelling competition this year, also?"
"My mother wants me to…" Godric trailed off.
"But?" Salazar pushed him.
"But I'm not sure whether I'm ready," he finally admitted.
"You are ready, Godric. I know you can win it. You are the son of Hilda Gryffindor after all."
"That's true," Godric replied moodily.
"If you need help practicing I would offer my services," offered Salazar.
"You would?" Godric asked, surprise flittered across his face.
"That is what friends are for, after all," Salazar smirked.
Godric let out a huge cheer and rushed at his friend, grabbing Salazar in a tight bear-like hug. As soon as he was free, Salazar whipped his wand from his belt but Godric was quicker. He had disarmed Salazar in a heartbeat and cast the body-binding curse on him in the next instant. After a moment, Godric stood over his friend and Salazar looked upwards in defiance. He could see Godric's taunting look in his eyes and felt slightly humiliated and humbled. In the next instant, Godric had taken the curse away and helped Salazar up, handing him his wand, while laughing the entire time at his friend's annoyed expression.
"I think you were right," Godric boomed, throwing his arm around Salazar's shoulders.
"About what?" Salazar asked, slightly cold.
"There is no chance anybody will beat me if even you can't." Thawing, Salazar laughed and Godric joined in. They didn't stop until they saw the grey clouds moving in overhead and the two of them climbed back onto their horses and rode back to the Slytherin's castle slightly disgruntled.
"Probably for the best," Godric smiled as they crossed the small stream.
"Why is that?" asked Salazar, slightly confused by the change in his friend's attitude.
"You're guest are arriving today, remember," Godric replied, a full grin plastered on his face. Salazar groaned in response.
"I completely forgot that they were arriving today," said Salazar moodily, "Of all the things I do not want to do, entertaining her is probably first on the list."
"Even before eating your horses shit?"
"Perhaps second then." Again they laughed and that mischievous look twinkled in Salazar's eyes. "Race you back to the castle."
Without waiting for a response Salazar was off, leaving Godric behind in his wake. Without looking back he cantered off into the forest, determined to beat his friend.