Written for: Quidditch League, Season 11, round 4.

Position: Kenmare Kestrals Seeker

Prompt: Write about a whispered confession.

Word count: 2333

TW/AN: Godric Gryffindor/Salazar Slytherin, Character death.


Dear Salazar, the letter read.

I hope this finds you well. It's been almost three years since you left if Helga's timing is correct. It has been…different without you at the school. Your Slytherin's are quiet now, almost contemplative. Rowena seems to think they are fine, but she has not seen the forlorn looks they cast at your place at our table. She hasn't seen anything, being held up in her library. Helga has been much the same, barely leaving her greenhouse. If I can be honest, it has me on edge.

If you cannot find what you seek, come home, Salazar.

With love,

Godric Gryffindor.

Salazar scoffed, folding the piece of paper as he stuck it into his robes. Of course, Godric would be the one to write such a sappy letter. They had ceased being lovers ages ago, and yet the hotheaded man still wrote as if they were part of a secret rendezvous.

Still, it warmed Salazar's cold heart. Nothing made the ice melt faster than the shining sun, and that's exactly what Godric was. His sun. Godric was fire, a consistent passion that never halted. Salazar was freezing ambition, cut from stone. Opposites meshed perfectly together.

That's all Salazar was, ambition. He had left (what used to be) his biggest dream behind to chase something larger, something greater than magic. He shook his head. He needed to focus.

"Are you ready, Miss Branwan?" he asked, stumbling over his words. He was trying to speak in Greek for the woman's convenience. If only there was a translation spell, it would make communicating much easier.

"Yes, I believe," said the woman. Or what was left of her? All the woman knew now was that she was dead and that she had died of something big. The ghost of a woman sighed, fixing her pale grey dress like the proper lady she used to be. She laid her hands in her lap, closing her eyes.

She must have been beautiful before her death.

"I don't remember much," Branwan told him. "I doubt it would help-"

"Any information you have is helpful," Salazar assured her. "I need to, no, the world needs to know."

"It started when I beat my brother in a duel. His wand had flown from his hand to mine, and even when he would cast his most powerful spell. it no longer worked for him. Somehow, I knew this wand was now mine."

"And then?" Salazar pushed for more.

"Then-"


Dear Salazar,

I know you asked us not to contact you while you were gone, and we promised not to anymore, even if you could not explain why. I do apologise, but I have to break that promise.

Rowena has passed.

It was sudden, and it took all of us by surprise. She was perfectly healthy, even showing us one of her new projects just an hour before bed. She didn't show up to classes this morning, and of course, her little Eagles went searching for her. It was like they could tell something was amiss. It was one of the younger ones who had cracked the code to her bed chambers. You wouldn't know her, but she had taken to Rowena like a moth to a flame. Almost better than Rowena's own daughter had.

No one can find Helena. You know the girl, always going off on adventures at the drop of a hat. She usually tells us where she has gone, but this time she did not. It's concerning.

I wish that you were

I just received news from Helga, that the Barron from the town next over is missing as well. I am not one to jump to conclusions

Salazar snorted.

but I do believe they are connected. Apparently, the Barron has been gone a week, but I swear upon my sword Helena was at the evening meal yesterday. It is all too much.

The students are not faring much better than Helga and myself. It is hard putting on a brave facade in the face of death. Her eagles have decided to call themselves "Raven's" now, in memory of their teacher. It is sweet, yet so saddening.

Salazar, I need you. Please, come home.

Your love,

Godric

Salazar sighed at the letter, his fingers tracing over the teardrops covering the parchment. Godric had cried while writing this? The man who hadn't even shed a tear when his own father passed? Salazar had to admit, it worried him. Why would something as small as death affect him so much? It was almost uncanny. As much as he wanted to, Salazar couldn't go back to Hogwarts. He had made peace with being a nomad, never staying in one place for longer than a week. He only ever stayed that long when he didn't have a lead.

One day, he'd figure this out, get the information he needed, and go back to Hogwarts, to his home. Back to Godric.

Their relationship had always been one of secrets. No one knew, not even Rowena and Helga. It had been their lifeline of sorts when Hogwarts became too much. They would lie with each other, limbs thrown about in a peaceful bliss. Salazar wasn't one for physical affection, but Godric thrived under his soft touches. It always lit a fire in him. Salazar would even catch himself smiling as Godric wrapped him in a tight hug, his large arms a comfort to his racing mind.

Until Godric couldn't take the secrecy any longer.

"I want to tell them about us."

"Who?" Salazar asked, suddenly on guard. What was Godric about to spew today?

"Helga and Rowena. They deserve to know, we have been friends with them almost half of our lives, Sal. If we keep what we are a secret-"

"What we are?" Salazar felt his pulse quicken. This couldn't be happening.

"Yes, as our friends they deserve to know." Godric stepped forward, and Salazar stepped back.

"We are nothing," Salazar hissed. Godric smiled at him.

"You don't mean that, Sal."

"Yes I do," he said. "You were just a-"

"Just a what, Salazar?" Godric questioned, pushing their noses together. Salazar felt his heart squeeze and his stomach twist. "Whatever you're about to say, it's just an excuse. You're scared, and that's okay. We'll work through this together."

"Godric-"

"I love you, Salazar Slytherin." Their lips brushed together, softer than they had ever done before. Godric loved him? Since when? It was too much.

And like the coward he was, Salazar ran out of the room.

He had left on his quest a week later. He had now been gone for five years, and only a small part of him actually regretted leaving. A very small, almost minuscule part of him. At least, that was what he told himself.

Leaving had been the best thing he'd ever done, and he even built a labyrinth under Hogwarts!

(Salazar was notorious for lying to himself.)

Although, even he could admit he missed Godrc's soft touches, the kisses they shared, the childhood stories that were grander than life itself!.

Sometimes at night, Salazar would lay in his tent bed, listening to his own memories, a replay of the stories Godric would tell.

"Sir? Are you alright?" The mundane teller asked. Salazar nodded, passing over a few coins. They'd turn to rocks in a bit, but it was a nifty piece of magic he had learned as a child. One of the few things that had stuck with him into adulthood.

Salazar nodded at the people who passed him on the street. He knew exactly where he was going. As he made his way out of the condensed town and closer towards the outskirts, people began to look at him with suspicion. There was only one reason why someone would venture this far out of town.

"Watchu doin mister?" A kid asked, popping up next to him. Salazar had heard the kid following behind him for a few blocks now but had paid no mind to it. Salazar wasn't a fan of children, which was odd; he was a teacher after all. Yet, he had never clicked with the younger students like Godric and Rowena had. He and Helga had always worked better with the older students.

At the thought of his deceased friend, a pinprick of sadness made itself known. Rowena truly was too young to have passed. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of a short prayer for the dead. It wasn't much, but hopefully it would do.

"Misteeeeer, can you hear me?"

"Yes, what do you want?" Salazar grits out.

"What are ya doing here?" The kid asked.

"I am meeting with someone, now shoo, go home."

"Who are ya meeting with?" The kid asked again. Salazar barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

"None of your business, child." The kid kept walking next to him for another few houses.

"My names Hugh, what's yours?"

"Salazar Slytherin, the mighty-"

"That's a weird name." Hugh giggled.

Salazar was going to curse a child. Rowena, forgive him.


Sali,

Godric has passed.

H.H.

Salazar felt his heart stop. Godric? He was so young! How did this happen? Why had-

Why hadn't he been there, damnit! Why hadn't he gone back when Rowena died? Why did he have to be stubborn, staying out for so long? It had been two years since Rowena's passing, there was no reason Godric should have followed so quickly.

He needed to get back to Hogwarts.

Salazar dropped the letter, apparating on the spot. A difficult task, but he was closer to Hogwarts than he had been in the years past. It would be a little easier on him at least, not that it mattered much to him at the moment. He just needed to see if this was true.

After a few more jumps, a magically exhausted Salazar Slytherin appeared in front of Hogwarts.

"Professor? Professor!" A student nearby yelled, rushing over to him, his accent thick. "What are you doing back here, we thought you had-"

"Take me to Helga, now." Salazar demanded, voice powerful even as he struggled to keep himself upright.

"Sir, we were told not to bother her, we cannot-"

"Now, or I'll get in myself."

The teen nodded, helping keep his former teacher upright as they made their way into Hogwarts. She had gotten bigger, much bigger since he left.

Even her halls seemed different to him now, after being away for so long. Like a baby that had turned into an adult overnight. Still, she welcomed him back with a rush of comforting magic. It smelled of Godric.

"Madam Hufflepuff! It's an emergency!"

"I told you- Salazar?" Helga opened her yellow door, her glaring eyes suddenly widening as she saw her former friend. "You came back."

"Is he truly dead?" Salazar asked, breathless. Helga offered a small nod, opening the door and bringing him inside. The student left with a bow, leaving Helga and Salazar alone.

"You look good, Sali." Helga said quietly, floating him a cup of tea. Salazar ignored it.

"How did it happen?" he asked, something climbing up his throat, stopping the air from getting inside.

"Same as Rowena, he just suddenly passed in his sleep. There's something you must know though…"

"What is it?" When the woman didn't speak, he pressed more. "Helga, speak!"

"He is still with us," she sighed. "He has become a spirit, just as Helena did."

"Helena became- why?" Salazar was floored. What did Godric leave behind that would tether him to this earth?

"You should ask me yourself, you know." A strong voice said, a smile evident in its tone. Salazar felt his pulse race. He hadn't heard that voice in seven years, but it was exactly as he remembered it.

"Godric."

"Sal. I missed you."

Salazar turned around, eyes wide open, almost distant. Was this really happening?

"I'll leave you two to talk," Helga said quietly, leaving and closing the door as quickly as she could. Salazar didn't notice."

Even though he was now a ghost, Godric looked mostly the same. It was obvious he was wearing his bedclothes when he passed. Salazar could notice the ugly brown clothing anywhere. The man grinned at him.

"Like what you see?" he teased. If Sal could, he would slap the man.

"How did this happen? How did you die?"

"I truly don't know," Godric said, floating closer to him. Floating, how was he supposed to "I simply woke up like this."

"What kept you here?" Salazar asked. "I need to know, so that you never find it, no matter how far you look."

"Always so possessive, my love." Godric chuckled, placing his ghostly hand near Salazar's face. Even in death, Godric was still warm, warmer than he would ever be.

"Godric, I am serious."

"It was you, Sal," Godric said with a smile.

"That makes no sense, you fool."

"It's always been you," he whispered, leaning over Salazar. Their foreheads touched, and Salazar swore he could feel it. "You were all I ever wanted in life, Salazar Slytherin. My thoughts were consumed by you."

"Go-" Salazar was cut off.

"Everyday I wished for you to wake up in my arms, or to go back in time and erase what made you leave. It never worked. A bit sad to say my death is what dragged you back home."

Home. Salazar was home. And the person that had made it feel like that had left him.

"Close your eyes, Sal." Godric said. Memories flashed up of their first kiss, almost exactly like this, one drunken night in Salazar's room. Salazar listened for once, letting his green eyes shut. For a moment, he swore he felt Godric's lips press against his own, hot and searing.

"I love you, Salazar."

When he opened his eyes again, Godric was gone.

"I love you too," Salazar whispered to himself, although it did very little to heal his aching heart. The man who was meant to hear those words was gone.