April 2nd 956 AD
A fireplace crackled in the large room covered in shelves of expensive and old books, as the woman on the exquisite royal blue sofa nursed a small bundle of light blue blankets. The tall man at the doorway came in. He looked over his wife's shoulder and saw what she saw; a pair of intelligent bright blue eyes staring up at him curiously from a pale face framed by curly raven hair.
"What do you want to call her?"
Without a second thought, and not lifting his gaze from the newborn's blue eyes, he answered her.
"Rowena"
April 7th 956 AD
A single figure came rushing out of the tall manor towards the large crowd below. As soon as they recognized him, they broke out in low whispers. The figure drew himself up proudly, the golden sunlight glinting off of his crimson cloak.
"Rejoice, my men! For yet another lion cub has been born!"
Alan Gryffindor smiled as the crowd broke in cheers. He himself had been cheering as the news of his brother's birth was brought to him. Yes, he thought to himself as the memory of the innocent green eyes and wild red hair surfaced, he shall indeed be the soldier of soldiers, trained by the best. He was broken out of his thoughts by a united shout from the crowd.
"What is his name?"
He smiled. "Godric. Godric Gryffindor"
August 25th 959 AD
An abandoned basket. A scream of 'freak!' as the door slammed shut. A pair of frightened amber eyes snapped open as her hair simultaneously turned black. She let out a frightened wail.
A twelve year old, returning to the inn that was her home, turned her head sharply at the heart breaking sound of a baby's desperate cry. She turned around, and without a single thought, ran towards the sound. She stopped short at the sight of the basket full of pink blankets. She approached it warily. The baby's head turned sharply to look at her and she gasped as the little girl's hair turned blonde to match hers, wide amber eyes turning brown as they looked up at her. She looked around, scowling as she recognized the abode of a muggle. "I should have known," she murmured, as she bent to look at the child closer. "But this will not happen again," she vowed as she picked up the basket and ran.
She reached an open meadow. Only then did she relax her pace. She looked down and smiled at the sleeping face of the baby. She looked up as she heard a shout.
"Amanda! There you are!" a brunette her age came running forward. She gasped as her eyes fell on the basket. Grey eyes met hers. "Another one?" She nodded gravely, her eyes darkening. "This cannot go on, Felicity. Too many are being punished for no fault of their own". The girl nodded, her face a mask of seriousness. She looked up abruptly and beckoned to her. "Come, Madame is extremely worried". Amanda smiled softly and followed.
The door flew open and she was suddenly engulfed in a warm hug. "Where were you? I was so worried! I-"she stopped short when she saw the basket. "Oh dear me". She reached down and lifted the little body out of the basket. The sleeping child cuddled into her arms, a single fist closing around her index fingers. She drew in a breath when the child's hair turned a darker blonde in her sleep.
"A metamorphmagus then? No wonder. She'll be a powerful witch, this one". She placed her gently inside a crib next to the warm fire.
"Is that what she is then?," a third voice asked, light blue eyes alight with curiosity as she sat at the table with the two others her age, chestnut curls bouncing.
"Yes, Anna. She's one who can change her appearance at will"
"Ooh, I wish I could do that," said Felicity, wistfully, gazing at the crib.
Amanda looked up from her bread and steak. "What should we call her?"
Madame Hufflepuff looked lovingly at the innocent baby. "Helga. Helga Hufflepuff"
March 22nd 960 AD
Two identical pairs of keen silver eyes gazed up at him from the crib. The boy's fist closed around his sister's. He cast a tempus charm. Midnight exactly. He looked up sharply out of window as the thunder boomed and lightning streaked across the sky, charring the the tops of the dead trees on the deep green moor. Magic was thick in the air as the rain seemed to swirl around the twins, his twins before the wind stopped raging and the babies stared up at him innocently, hands still entwined.
"They're storm-callers," his wife's voice was tired, yet filled with awe and satisfaction. Her silver eyes bore into his blue."Children of nature. Aren't they?"
He looked at the two raven-haired newborns and the lockets he had placed around their necks. Inscribed on the silver between matching emeralds was the phrase Familia Primum. "They are".
"Their names?"
He looked at the pair again before looking at her again.
"Salazar. Salazar and Serena Slytherin".