Salazar stood in the hallway facing the classroom door lost in his thoughts. He had just come from his Arithmancy class and was rather pleasantly surprised to have learned something new. It wouldn't help him with potions creation, but new knowledge was always good. Students were making their way towards their next class from different parts of the castle. But, as always, Salazar didn't acknowledge Parkinson's existence. He did, however, make brief eye contact with Gregory and gave a small nod of greeting, to which Salazar received a small grin in return.

But what really caught Salazar's attention was the girl standing beside him. Lily shifted closer and sighed… a bit dramatically in Salazar's opinion. Salazar thought to ignore her, but thought better of it. Lily was the sort of person that would continue her antics until he reacted 'appropriately'. There were still three full minutes before the door was scheduled to open. If Salazar had to put up with Lily's pouting that entire time, he was certainly going to snap. Without looking directly in Lily's direction, Salazar asked, "Something vexes you?"

Lily pouted at Salazar. "Why can't I get him to smile at me?"

"Perhaps he doesn't know you want him to do so."

Biting her bottom lip, Lily considered that for a moment, then shook her head. "No. I think he's just sweet on you."

That caught Salazar's full attention and he looked at the girl beside him to ask, "Who are we talking about?"

"Greg," Lily said, hissing under her breath as she looked in Gregory's direction, but the boy was zoned out, staring straight ahead of him. Most likely doing his best to ignore Crabbe.

"Ah," Salazar said and corrected the girl's incorrect assumption, "Gregory is not sweet on me. He simply appreciates the fact that I do not treat him as a buffoon such as Parkinson or Crabbe, nothing more. Do you… fancy… him?"

"Not really, well, a bit." Lily shrugged. "He's fit. It's just that I want a guy to look at me that way."

Look what way, exactly? Salazar's brows furrowed as his mind reflected on the innocent gesture from a young man, but before Salazar could ask for clarification or react to what he had just been told the classroom door opened. That morning was their first class of the year in Defense Against the Dark Arts with the new professor. When the man had come stomping into the Great Hall in a dramatic flair at the Welcoming Feast, Salazar was immediately on guard. While ex-Auror Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody wasn't a ponce like Gilderoy Lockart, he still seemed to enjoy making an entrance.

Salazar was leaning against the wall and looked down the hall for the students from the other house. They hadn't arrived yet and he was growing concerned for Godric and Harry. Moody grunted when Salazar didn't move to enter the classroom and thumped his staff on the ground before growling, "Inside."

Still unimpressed, Salazar slowly brought his attention from the hallway to the man, noting that the professor was staring directly at him. The man looked exactly as he had the night of the Welcoming Feast. Moody was a grizzled, scarred old man that had a tick. The man's tongue often darted out to wet his lips repeatedly, usually only to one side: the right. As the pair stood there staring at each other, Moody's tick flared, his eyes seemed nearly wild. Salazar refrained from meeting the professor's eye directly. He had no desire to brush up against any unwanted thoughts. While he was a natural legilimens, Salazar was still learning control over his new body and mind, and often saw things unintendedly.

Salazar still hadn't moved and soon he could hear Godric's house approaching as they tended to be rather rambunctious. Harry and Godric were on their way. With that knowledge, only then did Salazar move, but it wasn't because of the frown he was receiving from Moody. Salazar simply didn't want to be trampled by the incoming pride of lions.

As it was in every class that the green shared with the red, the line was clearly drawn. The seats were filled on the right side of the room with a sea of green ties, leaving the rest of the lions to fight over the left side. Salazar paused and stared at the available seating. Moody barked, "What're ya waiting for?"

Salazar ignored him once more and intentionally moved to the left side of the classroom as the lions began filtering into the room behind him. Moody was leaning forward now, his weight supported by his staff. He apparently didn't appreciate being ignored and bellowed, "Where are you going, girl?"

Stopping in front of his chosen seat - not too close to the instructor that he gained anyone's attention when he worked on his projects, not too far in the back as to be obvious that he was trying to ignore the professor - Salazar set his bag on the desk, squared his shoulders, and leveled his gaze towards Moody. "I believe it is obvious what I was waiting for and where I am. One must weigh their options before moving forward. Impulsive behavior is not something often found in a Slytherin." Moody's tongue flicked, then he used his staff to strike the ground again. To show disapproval? Another tick perhaps? The sound startled some of the lions while they entered the room as they stopped in their tracks to watch on in silence. Salazar narrowed his gaze at the professor and stated, "Your theatrics do little to instill confidence in your ability to teach. The last instructor to use such tactics was Gilderoy Lockart." Salazar took his seat as Godric came forward to stand beside him.

There was a pause before the man bellowed once more, "You! What's your name?"

Salazar had been ignoring him again while he pulled out his parchment and quills. He still didn't look up as he set his belongings out. "My name is Tracey Davis. You are welcome to address me as Miss Davis." Salazar looked at the man with no emotions showing on his face when he corrected the professor, "Now that you've been properly informed, I will no longer respond to either 'girl', nor 'you'."

The look on the man's face changed… surprising the entire class by the looks on their faces. Moody let out an explosive laugh that filled the room. "Ha!" The grizzled old man was… smiling, for a lack of better word. It did not improve the man's looks. Moody asked, "You sure you're not a Gryffindor?"

"Quite," Salazar said.

Godric snorted in amusement as he took his seat next to his best friend and said under his breath, "He has a point."

"Do shut it," Salazar said just as quietly.

Moody made his way back towards his desk and walked around it with an odd gait. His wooden peg leg made a thump with each step and an odd scuffing sound came from his booted foot. "You can put those away." He sat in his chair heavily and let out a sigh of relief as if being on his 'feet' took too much effort. "You won't be needing them books."

Salazar allowed his book to slide closed and watched the man with curiosity, wondering what he was up to. Perhaps the man would prove him wrong and be a decent instructor. Salazar chose to be cautiously optimistic.

After taking roll from the roster, Moody tossed the parchment down on his desk and looked out over the class. The start of class wasn't ground breaking, just a bit of talk about having spoken to Lupin about the students. Another mark in the man's favor. Salazar sat forward with interest. Perhaps he misjudged the man.

"Curses," Moody said and every eye was upon him, while the professor's eyes went from student to student as he spoke. His real eye moved slowly while the magical eye continued to spin in all directions to ensure he was able to see all vantage points at all times. It was rather dizzying. Salazar focused on the man's forehead as best he could without getting distracted by the constant movement. "They come in many forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in your sixth year. According to them, you're not old enough to deal with it till then."

Dark curses. Light curses. Magic was magic. Salazar never understood why these modern day witches and wizards insisted on labeling everything. Salazar eased back in his seat when Moody stood with a groan. The old man made his way around to the front of his desk as he continued to speak, "But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of you, he reckons you can cope."

Salazar looked to his left and saw Godric was just as unconvinced as he was at that statement. While the four friends were definitely old enough to see whatever the man thought would shock them, there were still students like Hermione, Lavender, Lily, Scarlet, and Neville that were a tad squeamish.

"I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better." Moody had made it to the front of his desk and sat on the edge. The battle-scarred man looked at his students and asked, "How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? The sort of wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't the type that's going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to be polite and curse you to your face. He's going to wait until your back is turned and catch you unawares." Moody raised his staff an inch off the ground in order to strike the tip on the stone to emphasize his words. Bam! "You need to be prepared." Bam! "You need to be alert and watchful." Bam! "You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

The change of topic took everyone by surprise more than the constant banging of his staff. Every head turned towards a blushing Lavender Brown. She stammered out an apology as she hid whatever Moody saw her with. "Sorry, Professor."

Without missing a beat, or acknowledging the girl, Moody continued, "So... Do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Hermione's hand was up instantly. No one else moved. They had classes together often enough over the past three years that it was a given the girl would sprain her shoulder to answer first. Moody narrowed his eyes and grunted. Hermione took that as permission to speak, "The Unforgivables." She dropped her hand and continued, "The Unforgivable Curses are three of the most powerful and sinister spells known to the wizarding world and were first classified as 'Unforgivable' in 1717, with the strictest penalties attached to their use."

Moody paused before responding. Apparently when he spoke to Lupin, the werewolf forgot to mention the girl's tendency to recite books by rote.

Salazar thought back to his own simpler original time, back when spells weren't considered Unforgivable because there was no Ministry to enforce such things. Life was harder, more primitive. A person's life span was shorter back then. Salazar, for one, was quite young when he was killed. He shuddered at the memory, having tuned the professor out. Salazar was suddenly, mentally thrown back a thousand years to his own demise. Where were these Aurors when he needed them? There was no justice for his death. Frightened non-magicals had ambushed him... killed him. Of his small group of friends, Salazar was the first to die.

Moody growled out, "Think that's funny do you?"

Salazar willed his thoughts back to the present and saw the man manipulating a large spider, forcing the arachnid to dance, do somersaults, and other feats unusual for such a creature. "You'd like it if I did that to you? Took away your free will?" The laughter in the room died away instantly. "That's right. You'd have no power to defend yourself, you'd do whatever it is that I told you to do. That's what it was like for them... those under the Imperius Curse."

Moody put the spider back in a jar and looked around at the students and prompted, "Another one."

After that display, Salazar wasn't surprised to note that Hermione wasn't volunteering an answer. Neville tentatively raised his hand. None looked more surprised than the boy himself when he was called upon. Moody growled out, "You."

Neville's hand slid down slowly as he squeaked out his answer, "The..." The boy cleared his throat and tried again, "The Cruciatus Curse."

Moody was looking at him with both eyes and stated, "You're Longbottom." Neville nodded and Salazar noted the man never looked at the register when he asked. Salazar's eyes narrowed on the grizzled old man as the professor shook himself visibly and turned for another 'volunteer' spider.

With the spider in hand, Moody looked at his victim... volunteer. Salazar was just close enough to hear the man grumble, "Needs to be bigger..." Moody pointed his wand at it and incanted, "Engorgio!"

The spider grew until it was larger than the man's palm, more than twice as big as its original size. Moody set it down and, before the arachnid could flee, pointed his wand while he muttered, "Crucio!"

Salazar was taken by surprise at the noises coming from the spider. He had no idea it had verbal capabilities. Perhaps it was the type of spider chosen, but still, the thing screamed in pain. Salazar thought he might understand why the Ministry would feel they were too young to witness these spells, perhaps not the spells themselves, but their effect, most definitely. Even as far as he sat from the man, Salazar could feel the malice in the magic and shuddered in revulsion.

"Stop it," Hermione's voice to his left broke as she said it. Salazar looked at the girl he considered an ally with concern. But she wasn't looking at the spider. Hermione was watching Neville.

Hermione was right to demand that the man stop. Neville didn't take well to the spell at all. He was trembling and he looked pained, near tears, but the boy held it together bravely.

Turning his attention back to the professor, Salazar noted that the man wasn't listening to Hermione's plea. He was too enraptured by the pain he was causing the spider. Hermione was practically crying out her request, had done so several times, and Salalzar had had enough. He stood and slammed his hand on the desk. "Enough!" That caught the man's attention. Moody scowled at him, but hadn't let up on the curse he held over the screaming spider. Salazar knew the moment Godric stood beside him, and his back straightened. Salazar told Moody, "You have gone too far." Still the man snarled and held the spell. Salazar met his eyes and was taken aback at what he saw. The images weren't clear, the tick - the flick of his tongue - broke up his thoughts making them jump from one thing to another, but the intense feeling began to overwhelm him. Godric raised his wand at the professor as did Salazar, but Salazar didn't warn the man again. It took nearly everything he had to cut off the memories bombarding him, but Salazar forcefully cut off the connection and growled, "Expelliarmus!"

Moody's wand flew from his fingers and into Godric's waiting hand. The two friends stood against him, waiting for the professor's next move. Moody stood and seethed, "Give me that!"

Before long, there were others standing beside and behind Salazar and Godric. Salazar couldn't see them all without looking away from the professor and, even with Godric beside him, he couldn't risk moving. Salazar's legs were trembling with the effort to stand after the bombardment of memory fragments. Salazar was relieved when he recognized Harry's magic as the boy stood at Salazar's right, Harry's wand didn't waiver as they waited.

"I'll see you all expelled," Moody threatened.

Godric snorted in amusement and called the man's bluff, "I'd like to see you try."

Salazar smirked. "If we go, we're not going alone. If I were to wager, I'd say you've done that spell a number of times and not just for learning purposes. It came too easily to you, you were too enraptured with its effects... too intimately familiar with it."

Moody huffed. "What do you know, girl?"

"I know that your time here at this school is limited... You may not last a year."

"Detention, all seven of you." Moody bellowed, "Get out... and give me my wand!"

- - - - Founders - - - -

The three students stood before their Head of House. The man was livid and let them know just how upset he was without saying a word as he paced back and forth behind his desk. Finally, Snape stopped moving long enough to snarl at them, "What were you thinking? WERE you thinking when you assaulted a professor? He could have you expelled!"

"Perhaps," Salazar admitted, stopping the man mid rant. Snape's head snapped to his student and he glared. Salazar was not moved. He actually continued to answer the rhetorical questions by asking one of his own, "Did you hear the entire story from someone that wouldn't elaborate to color us in a damning way or a version only told by the mad man himself?"

Apparently the professor didn't trust Salazar to tell the truth or didn't want to listen to him because he turned to the only - outwardly - male of the group. "Mr. Goyle, what possessed you to stand and raise your wand to a professor?"

Gregory paused long enough to gather his thoughts before answering, "Professor Moody was holding the Cruciatus Curse for a long time. There were students being affected in a negative way. He did not take them into consideration like a professor should."

"Neville was almost crying," Lily said in a small voice out of turn and flinched when Snape's eyes snapped to her.

"While I grant you that Neville Longbottom isn't the bravest of his house, he isn't a cryer. I believe he would have fared well in Hufflepuff, but I digress. Longbottom put up a brave front today in class," Salazar stated, not caring that he was in trouble with Snape as well as Moody. It was doubtful that Snape would take away points after Moody already removed fifty each.

Snape had long stopped pacing and walked around his desk to sit on the edge to face the three. The professor folded his arms across his chest and asked, "The Cruciatus Curse?"

"Yes, sir," Gregory answered more assuredly now, and elaborated, "he didn't shout the spell, he didn't struggle with it, he didn't show any strain."

"It was scary how calm he was," Lily agreed, catching Gregory's attention. The teen nodded at her in acknowledgement.

Salazar didn't bother adding his own opinion again. The other two were doing well enough for the three of them. There was still the matter of the images that flitted across from Moody unbidden and that was taking a lot of Salazar's concentration to keep them tamped down.

Snape was staring at the stone floor in contemplation, he hadn't moved or spoken since he asked about the curse used by Moody. His deep voice was nearly monotone when he growled out, "Your detentions will be with me. Friday night, 7 PM. Bring your dragonhide gloves, you'll be scrubbing cauldrons."

- - - - Founders - - - -

He finally had privacy and not a moment too soon. Salazar managed to crawl onto his bed to lay his aching head on his pillow. With nary a thought, Salazar gave a flick of his hand and the curtains around his bed snapped closed. His fingertips brushed the green fabric to raise the privacy wards when the first memory came crashing back… with a vengeance.

Salazar had managed to compartmentalize and brutally shoved Moody's memories to the back of his mind to sort through later. But that was hours earlier and Salazar's magic was failing. He had missed the first half of lunch, being berated by Snape. He was missing the second half now and doubted he'd make it to the next class. Salazar wasn't overly concerned; it was doubtful that Cuthbert would notice his absence… though Godric would most certainly.

Salazar groaned and curled into the fetal position when the trembling came. His entire body moved with the intensity. How many times had the man used the curse? How many people had he put under? How could a man with such accolades against 'Dark Magic' use such a spell with such ease and remain so unmoved, so calm while others screamed, cried, and vomited? Biting off their tongues in the process? Beating their heads against the ground? Or losing their minds to the pain?

There were blondes, brunettes, redheads, males, females, and at least one elderly woman. Salazar began dry heaving and crying. The images from Moody's mind would not stop coming to him. They cycled through quickly and began anew. And then the pain hit.

With his eyes closed, Salazar summoned the house elf. His voice was broken - barely audible - when he spoke aloud, "Please…"

Salazar sobbed, trembled, and screamed in pain. He couldn't speak, he couldn't ask for help, but he begged for it to stop, please make it stop.

It was hours later before his magic was strong enough to begin healing his mind. Slowly, the screaming stopped. Salazar eventually was able to relax his tense muscles. And only then did he notice a cold compress on his forehead. Salazar struggled to open his eyes and met the overly large concerned eyes of Culley.

The small house elf was kneeling on the mattress within the confines of the curtained area. She brushed her magic over the man's body and Salazar shivered when his sweat was whisked away from his skin. Culley's voice was very soft when she spoke. Her words were unapologetic and slightly defiant, "Mistress-sir called in his pain. Culley serves."

Salazar tried to speak, but he only managed a dry cough. Culley held his head up to help him sip at a glass of water. Salazar smiled wearily at the elf and managed to rasp out a 'Thank you' before he slept.

- - - - Founders - - - -

Classes continued. DADA was Salazar's least favorite of them courtesy of Moody. While Godric was made to give the man his wand back, and the seven that stood against him had all served their detentions, Moody hadn't forgotten their transgressions nor forgiven them.

Moody started cursing the entire student body regularly with the Imperius Curse in the name of giving them practical exercise to break the spell. Salazar didn't believe his excuse and the fact that both he and Harry had managed to resist immediately only aggravated the man further. Salazar knew he could resist the Imperius Curse due to his gift with the mind arts. Harry, on the other hand, was simply strong willed and too stubborn to listen to someone else's orders. Godric was the next one to overcome the curse, but everyone else succumbed to the embarrassing acts Moody forced them to perform.

Godric and Salazar continued to get detentions from Moody, but Snape would take them both to his classroom, refusing to allow Moody to have too much access to his students.

It was nearing the end of October when the signs were posted in every common room and bulletin board around the school.

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at
6 o'clock on Friday the 28th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early.
Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and
assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

"Excellent," Harry said as he read it over. Salazar raised an eyebrow and the boy grinned hugely. "Friday is double potions. Snape won't have time to poison us before the end of the day."

Salazar huffed in amusement and shook his head. "You're incorrigible. Remind me to tutor you over the summer."

Harry groaned, "Why?"

"Why not?" Salazar asked rhetorically. "Look, Harry. You're an excellent cook, there is no reason why you can't do well in Potions."

"One word," Harry stated as they walked into the Great Hall for dinner, "Snape."

Godric shrugged. "He's not wrong. The man hates him."

"He doesn't hate him," Salazar contradicted.

"He kind of does," Hermione hesitantly agreed with Godric.

"If you do better, perhaps he will hate you less," Salazar compromised and the other three grinned. Shrugging Salazar went to his table leaving the others to go to theirs.

- - - - Bonus Scene - Godric - - - -

"The man is a menace."

"Prank?"

"Prank."

"Excellent..." Godric's grin was feral when he asked, "What are we going to do?"

"I haven't decided yet," Salazar admitted.

"What about that potion you gave Malfoy?" Godric suggested. "Imagine the secrets that man has... then again we could be there all day if he's not silenced half way through his tirade."

"No," Salazar countered, "While it would be pleasing to see the man humiliated as he spills his secrets and fears, I've noted he only drinks from that flask of his. The man is too paranoid to be tricked in that fashion."

"We could switch the flask with another..." Godric deflated. "And there is that magical eye of his. If we were to manage to switch out the flask for another, he'd look around to see who had his. He can see through solid barriers. Bollocks."

"This is going to take some thought..."

- - - - End Bonus Scene - Godric - - - -

When Friday the 28th of October finally came, the students of Hogwarts were abuzz with excitement. There were exceptions, naturally, because there were always some students that were different. None outright hated the upcoming event; some were simply blasé about it. They hardly counted in the grand scheme of things. Until you took into account that among those students were the founders.

Salazar was already done with the entire event and it hadn't even started yet. Godric was still debating if he was going to enter, utterly disregarding the question of whether he should or not. After all, that wasn't truly in question. Rowena enjoyed reading all about the tournament's past and discussing prior tasks at length with her daughter. Helga enjoyed the idea of meeting new people, but wasn't too excited about the event itself and had spent the majority of her time down in the laboratory explaining to Ismanna what to expect.

Thirty minutes before the two schools were scheduled to show up, the students were shepherded out to the front of the school. They gathered by house - Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws - then by year - first years in front, and so on - then by height creating a semicircle. There was a bit of a gap between the Slytherins and Gryffindors where the Heads of House stood with the Headmaster.

Salazar stood at the front of the line of Slytherin fourth years; his arms crossed in annoyance, but at least he knew he wasn't the only short one in his small group of friends. Godric, for all his bluster, was shorter than Salazar.

The students were speaking excitedly amongst themselves, watching their surroundings, not knowing how the other schools would be arriving. The five staff members spoke softly to each other in the center of the students. Salazar half listened to the staff while disregarding the students' chattering all together.

"How are you not excited?"

Salazar stilled all movement. That was the only outward sign that he was startled by suddenly being addressed. He looked at the girl at his side and asked, "Why should I be?"

"We get to meet students from other schools," Scarlet tried to reason.

"Do you plan on changing schools?" Salazar asked.

"Well, no."

"Do you hope to become betrothed or possibly date one?"

"No!" Scarlet sounded offended.

"Then why do you care who will be arriving at our school in order to compete? They are students just like us that happen to live in a foreign country and speak a different language." Salazar shrugged and crossed his arms. "They're strangers you will never see again."

"Where is your sense of adventure?" Scarlet asked in exasperation.

"Adventure…" Salazar stared at her for a moment and stated, quite matter-of-factly, "I am Slytherin, not Gryffindor."

"There!" A male voice shouted - he sounded very much like Harry, but Salazar didn't see who had spoken. Some students began pointing upwards and all heads looked to the sky.

A small dot was growing larger as it drew nearer in the clear blue autumn sky. By the time they landed, everyone could clearly see the six extremely large white winged horses pulling a carriage as large as a house on wheels. Salazar looked around for Helga and wondered how excited she was at seeing these new beasts. Even Salazar would admit they were gorgeous creatures. What surprised Salazar was that Hagrid walked up to the animals and took them in hand. The large man spoke softly to the winged horses and they stopped pawing at the ground. Salazar watched Hagrid at work. He hadn't realized the man had been released from Azkaban and almost felt guilty for not having asked about his well being.

A footman hopped out from somewhere within the carriage and, with flair and pomp, set a step stool before the door to the house carriage. He paused to ensure he had the audience's attention, then opened the door. Salazar bit back a sigh at the theatrics. He was quite done with them, thank you.

At the threshold of the carriage stood a woman - a larger than life woman that stood even taller than Hagrid - who stepped out with grace and poise that belied her enormous size. She was a striking woman, and was greeted by Dumbledore who claimed her to be the Headmistress of Beauxbaton, Madame Maxime.

Soon the woman was followed by a small group of students all dressed in matching thin blue robes. The Beauxbaton students were shivering in the chill of a Highland fall evening and their Headmistress begged off waiting for Durmstrang to warm the children before the feast. Dumbledore, naturally, complied and Madame Maxime ushered her students inside the castle. Salazar gave the woman a nod of approval as she passed by. It was good that at least one adult in their midst gave a rat's arse about the welfare of their charges.

The Hogwarts students, with their Heads of House and Headmaster, were left to stand and wait for the next school to show up. It wasn't a long wait. Instead of someone spotting something in the sky, there was a strange sucking/suction/syphoning sound. It took even less time to figure out where the noise was coming from. Salazar hadn't realized that he stepped forward until Snape hissed, "Davis."

Salazar stilled his movements, but didn't bother to get back in line, as he watched in alarmed suspense. The water in the Black Lake was churning in a whirlpool fashion. Salazar wasn't certain if that was truly happening, or if it was an illusion, but he did know his concerns were real. Before him was the Black Lake, the lake where a certain giant squid lived. The same lake where Ismanna enjoyed playing with her friend the giant squid. Salazar's hands were clenched in fists and if something didn't happen soon, he was going to go down and check on her, propriety be damned.

It felt like forever, but was probably only two minutes at most, before a ship's mast was visible in the center of the whirlpool. The mystical scene flopped when the ship practically popped into place a moment later. Then the ship was moving seamlessly sideways to moor at the shore. The ship was vast to appear so large from such a distance, but the lake was larger still, which meant the squid and Ismanna should be safe. Salazar breathed easier. He looked to the Hufflepuffs and saw Helga had been just as concerned as he was... more so, most likely. Helga must have felt his eyes upon her, because she turned to give Salazar a watery smile. They nodded a silent agreement to check on Ismanna very soon.

The temperature was slowly declining. It wasn't exactly warm to begin with, but with the setting sun the chill came. By the time the Durmstrang students, led by their Headmaster, made their way to the castle it was nearly time for the Welcoming Feast to begin. These students looked… sturdier, than the Beauxbaton students or, at the very least, these students were properly dressed for cold weather.

As the Durmstrang contingency drew closer, the whispers started. It was a low buzz at first and Salazar did his best to ignore them. He was looking at the Headmaster because he had that same… oily feel, that Snape did. Salazar frowned at the man as he gave Dumbledore a fake, pained smile when they greeted each other. Dumbledore gave the man a strained smile, shook his hand, and called him… Igor.

Salazar made a mental note of the difference in the old man's greetings. He found it interesting how Dumbledore, the 'esteemed' Headmaster of Hogwarts, the man whom all books praised as the next Merlin… did not treat the two visiting schools the same. Perhaps Dumbledore would treat the students the same, but he certainly showed a preference to the visiting dignitaries. The Headmaster of Durmstrang didn't rank as high in the mind of Dumbledore as the Headmistress of Beauxbaton, for only the Headmistress was granted a title.

Everyone was making their way inside. Everyone except for Salazar. He was still looking out at the lake, worried for Ismanna. Someone came to stand beside him, but it wasn't the familiar warmth of one of his friends. He recognized their magic, the person beside him felt familiar, but not in a comforting way. Snape asked, "What are you waiting for, Miss Davis? Moments ago, you couldn't stay still, now you're still standing here?"

"The lake," Salazar said, "the squid," he said more specifically, "with the ship appearing in that fashion, I was concerned for the creatures that call the lake home."

"Commendable, but unnecessary," Snape said. "Do you truly think the Headmaster would endanger their lives for such a theatrical entrance?" Salazar didn't respond, but that was answer enough because Snape too kept silent about his opinion on the lengths the Headmaster would go for the sake of appearances. "Come inside. The feast will begin shortly."

"Yes, sir," Salazar said and turned to note that, naturally, he wasn't the last to enter the castle.

His friends greeted the professor as he passed and the four stood together and stared out at the lake. Helga spoke first, "I'm not going to the feast."

"I understand."

"I don't care what he said, I don't trust that she's okay."

"Of course." Rowena was holding Helga's hand. "We'll go together."

The four moved as one, consequences be damned, and made their way to the laboratory to check on the queen.