The four stood again outside the Royal Court, dawn had broken just under an hour before. They were again led into the building, Godric keeping an eye out for a particular familiar face, though he did not see it. Before the King, Rowena grew suddenly nervous, fully uncertain what would lie ahead for them, for her. It did not take long for the King to speak, and Salazar could feel himself stiffen at the words. Helga seemed oddly at ease, as if she knew something the others didn't.

King Edgar remained seated on his throne, though attentive to those who stood before him. He again gave off an air of competence and a deep assurance of his position on the throne, yet he was not flanked by any advisors.

"Witches and wizards, the time of the trials has come at last. Your first task is to bring me a magical creature. Something that would befit this court and remind us all of what beasts were like in older ages. Bring me something I would not be able to see on my own. When you have your beast, bring it here. You have one day."

As quickly as they were escorted in, the four were escorted back out and left in front of the stone building. They could tell they were being looked at, stared down by the Muggles walking by, the ones scurrying far to the other side of the road. Even reception by the King did not gain them any acceptance into this world. Now they were expected to parade a magical animal through these people?

"He will not likely even be able to see the animals we bring," Salazar said, breaking their nervous silence.

"I think that is part of the challenge," Helga said. "We must not just catch a beast, but be able to present it."

"I have always wondered why the non-magical among us cannot see these magical beasts, or even magical plants for that matter. They can see us just fine, can they not?" Rowena asked. "Perhaps it is more a matter of wanting to be seen?"

"I would think it is not the beasts that wish not to be seen, but the Muggles who do not wish to see them. We are barely seen on the street here, yet we make no effort to hide ourselves," Godric said.

The fact of the matter was that all four of them were vexed at the first challenge. One that felt both simple, straightforward, and yet also potentially futile.

"I suppose we should discuss the matter more," Rowena said, preemptively offering her shop yet again for their collusion. The four began walking back toward Diagon Alley. Soon enough they entered The Leaky Cauldron and passed through to the brick wall in the back. They remained quiet, more fearful of other wizards and witches overhearing them than the Muggles who gave them such a wide berth. Soon enough they were at The Talon.

"I can find my books on beasts, there is likely something to learn about why they cannot always be seen, then we can ready ourselves properly for the task," Rowena said.

"There is only so much planning we can do in this matter, Rowena," said Godric, who seemed keen to do something rather than just speak about it.

"I agree with Godric," Salazar said, "we should be focusing on completing the challenge. If we have any thoughts on how to coax these beasts into revealing themselves for the King, then we can share those after we have obtained them. We have little time."

None of them knew that Salazar already had a means of convincing such a beast; he would use his Parselmouth, he had already decided, to call for the largest snake he could find. Although it may not be a magical creature on its own, he was certain that such a large creature under his control would fulfill the requirements. It's not like the King knew what a magical creature really was anyway. He regretted for a moment that he could not share his own strategy. In fact, most of the rest of the time for the trial would be spent figuring out how to use his power and hide it from the others. They were all clever and could easily catch on to what he was up to.

"We should at least make sure we all have plan. If I can go ask a unicorn for an hour of its time then this task should not be much trouble at all," Helga said. The others stared. "Well its not like I speak to it in words, though they do appreciate a good song. They are very intuitive creatures, they always seem to know what I want from them. With the right treats, they're often amenable to help with some small favor. Given that even Muggles talk about them, it should be plenty visible to the King."

"There's the matter of finding one, Helga," Rowena said

"Finding one should be no issue. As I said, they do appreciate a good song. I figure I shall take a long stroll in the woods with Hugbert and sing." Rowena raised a brow at this, but if anyone could summon a unicorn, it would be Helga. "And what are your plans, Rowena?"

"I am not sure yet. Animals are no specialty of mine. I know of some fairy fountains not too far from here. There is of course the one I went to when seeking out a fairy wing for my wand. Muggles speak of them sometimes, too, so perhaps they will be more visible."

"A good plan, Rowena. I am sure the King will find a fairy quite interesting," Godric said.

"Compared to a unicorn?" Salazar asked.

"We know little about what this King finds interesting," Godric replied. "He may very well hold a fairy in higher esteem than a unicorn, even knowing what both could do for him. Though I do not know if the blood of a unicorn or the touch of a fairy's wings would have much effect on him, or if he would even care. The fact is, we are best off bringing in very different creatures and using this trial as a means of gauging what it is the King is actually looking for. Does he seek power from us? Knowledge? Loyalty? Courage? It remains unclear to me. The man is hard to read and not long-winded."

"A wise assessment," Rowena said. "So what creature do you suppose to bring?"
"I am of two minds still. Perhaps a drake, as I do not suppose that the King would appreciate a full-grown dragon in his court building, neither do I suppose I could control one myself. Though I am not sure where to find one in these parts. My other consideration was a Kneazle, though less interesting, having a creature that can detect the untrustworthy is a great asset to a court. I personally would like to know how it interacts with Hamish."

"The drake would certainly turn heads, Godric, though the Kneazle seems a bit, well, small," Rowena said. The comment surprised Godric, who was ready to hear it from Salazar. Salazar did nod in agreement.

"If you would like, Godric, I can show you how to approach a hippogriff. Rather friendly creatures, but also large and impressive looking for a showcase like this," Helga said.

"That is very kind of you Helga, and I think it would be a better choice if we are trying to understand the King's intentions. That leaves Salazar, what will you bring to round out the mix?"

"Due to my family's trade, I have heard rumor of many creatures in these parts," Salazar began.

"And you have much access to creatures already," Rowena said. The bulk of the Slytherin fortune came from the magical beast trade, and both the fortune and trade were well known.

"Yes, but I do not intend to rely on my family here. I will go and find a snake of untold size, a King of Serpents for our King. A creature that could only grow to such enormity because of magic."

"How do you intend to bring in such an animal, let alone find one?" Helga asked, truly concerned about the danger involved. "You could endanger yourself and the whole Court!"

"My family has devised methods to handle more dangerous beasts. I am well versed in them now. It will be no more harmful than the fairy Rowena returns with. Trust me on that."

Though Helga still looked skeptical, Godric spoke:
"Trust we shall, Salazar. This seems like enough planning to me. The day is young, but we have our work cut out for ourselves. Let us begin, before our time slips away."

The others agreed, then set off to find their creatures.

Salazar and Rowena walked towards the forest line together, leaving the battlements of Lundenburg behind them. Salazar knew he would have to make some excuse to wander off on his own and call to the greatest serpent nearby. He did not want Rowena to know of his family's ability to talk to snakes. She was well studied and may know something about Parselmouth, so better not to risk revealing himself to her.

Rowena, for her part, did not want to stay too long around Salazar. Though good friends with Godric, there was something about the man that struck her as odd. Something secretive, or prying. She could not quite put her finger on it, but whatever it was it unnerved her. She could not fully relax around him, knowing that to him that could be some opportunity… not to hurt her, but likely to gain some power or leverage on her. The Slytherins had not come to amass their fortune and corner the trade in magical beasts by being kind or weak or stupid. They took every opportunity that was presented to them. She could not present any kind of opportunity, then.

They walked together with a tenseness in the air, tension caused by their mutual distrust and secrets. The conversation was stilted, halting, simple.

"How did you come about owning the shop?" Salazar asked.

"My parents died", Rowena replied.

"How sad."

"Yes, quite."

"And your parents?"

"Quite alive, thank you, if a touch involved," Salazar said.

"You have pupils you tutor, if I understand correctly?"

"That is correct. Quinten Weasley and Hywel Peverell. Good stock, both of them. I expect they'll be competent wizards in a few years' time."

"That must be satisfying. I have begun some tutoring myself," Rowena said. She caught Salazar smile—or smirk?

"It is one of the noblest professions. Merlin set a high standard."

"I agree on both accounts. As noble, or more noble, than sitting on the King's Court? Giving him council?" Rowena asked. She wanted to see just how much Salazar would reveal about his desires for this post.

"I believe that whatever needs our King has of a wizard—or witch—are far less important than those of King Arthur's day. The magic of today is different, I'm sure you know. Even these creatures we seek have changed over the centuries. It seems only us magical folk have remained much the same."

"Yes, I think any of us who have studied Merlin know of his contributions to the sort of magic we wield now," Rowena said, a bit annoyed. "And it seems the goblins, house elves, and centaurs have not changed much either, from my studies. Records of them go back thousands of years. They are human-like, though."

"Perhaps in shape, Rowena, but not in intelligence or ability."

"That we know of."

"What goblin have you met that has power equal to ours?"

"They can work with metal unlike any human. Their smithing is far superior to ours. Does that not count for anything?"

"Just because they have discovered something does not mean we cannot. Perhaps this was a lost art of wizards and witches of old, or a stolen one."

"I hope you do not say that to a goblin, Salazar. They would not take kindly to such accusations."

"And what of it? They cannot hurt me," Salazar said, standing a little stiffer in his stride.

"Perhaps not, but they certainly would not have to do business with you," Rowena said and stopped walking. They were sufficiently in the forest now, and Rowena was ready to go off on her own to find her fairy wings. "Salazar, we should part ways here. The fairy spring I know of is not far, and I would rather disturb them as little as possible with a foreign presence."

"I understand," Salazar said, grateful that he did not have to come up with some excuse to go off alone, or to continue the conversation about the lesser magical beings and their farcical equalities with humans. "I will leave you your privacy. Best of luck in your search."

"I wish you luck as well, though I do not suppose you will need it," Rowena said, her eyes narrowing, her mind guarded against a push she expected would come. It did not.

Salazar walked off, leaving Rowena amongst the trees, their rustling a mixture of wind and small animals. Birds chirped around her, their light calls a reminder to her of the beauty of these other creatures. Maybe Salazar could not see that in goblins, in house-elves, in centaurs. Even the non-magical creatures had something to offer the world, not least their song.

Rowena turned and followed the glint of the light, dust-specks that glittered in the sunbeams that shone through the trees. Remnants of fairy wings, guiding her towards their spring. It did not take her long to discover it, the fairies did not try to hide. Though they had many predators in the forest, they multiplied with ease; in some ways they seemed more beautiful insect that happened to be shaped like people than people shrunk down with wings. She knelt down and took out her wand. It would do to dress up the fairies a little, and they would be far more receptive to being taken away from their spring if their vain tendencies were humored. Rowena picked some flowers nearby and transfigured them into tiny dresses, little gowns that would make them look like royalty—even though fairies had no royalty, no politics of any kind. They would be like living dolls. Rowena took out a few small bottles, ones she often used to store her milk or extra cheese, sometimes potions—though most of those bottles were full at the moment. She coaxed a fairy into one by dropping the dress inside, letting the dress float in the bottle for the fairy to try on. She did look like a tiny princess inside, and Rowena thought it fitting to give her a tiny tiara as well.

Something about the moment, looking at the tiny fairy in the bottle with its tiny dress and tiara reminded Rowena of her childhood. Up far to the north in the Scottish glens. She didn't have much then, no dolls or toys. Her and her parents lived in a small cottage at the outskirts of a small town. For the first six years of her life she did not know another child. She would wander around the cottage, along the nearby river. In some thickets by the bushes she often found fairies. She would talk to them, and they would chirp back replies. They were the closest things she had to friends in those days: other small, human-like creatures. Perhaps that's why she had an affinity for these other magical creatures, most of all the ones that looked at least a little like her. She knew they provided some sense of belonging, a salve for her isolation.

Rowena took three fairies back with her, dressed in magnificent colors and tiny tiaras of fake emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. The fairies were quite pleased with their adornments, and did not seem to mind the bottles. In fact, they seemed to quite enjoy their reflections.

Salazar walked deeper still into the forest looking for signs of those beasts that adorn his family crest. He cast spells of revealing, for tracks and for other creatures that may listen in on him. The family secret had not been kept by pure luck but by cautious action. When he was certain there were no would-be eavesdroppers, Salazar began speaking the language of snakes. He called to them, any nearby, to heed his message.

There are always large beasts in the forest. Enormous spiders, giant rats. Some stories—myth even now like so many tellings of creatures lost to time and the old ways—told of gargantuan snakes. Scales as big as hands, fangs longer than forearms. Legend had it that one such snake could kill with a look, though of course no one who had ever seen one lived to tell the tale. Salazar could hardly believe in such a snake himself, and he knew of all manner of snakes.

With his message to the largest snake of this forest underway, he had little to do but wait. He found a place to sit, confident that his message would be heeded. Salazar let his eyes relax, the forest around him took on a softness. He practiced fortifying his mind, honing his attention. He would have plenty of time. It was not for some hours that he received his reply. An Adder, brown with darker brown arrows down its back, slithered out from the bushes. Salazar could hear it coming, its great heft causing a rumble along the forest floor. This was no ordinary snake, just as he had commanded. Longer than three men laying down head to toe and thick as a tree trunk, the Adder could only have grown to this size due to magic of some kind. The animals, like humans, sometimes inherited magical traits seemingly from nowhere—a mystery Salazar did not dwell on.

"Greetings, great snake," Salazar said. Though he could give the snake any command and know it would be obeyed, some level of respect was still necessary. That was his family's way with the creatures they allowed to represent them. "You will come with me to see the King. I will ensure no harm comes to you, and you will be fed. The journey will not be long, and I will return you here when it is over."

The snake stared at him with its beady eyes, tongue flickering out nearly a foot in front of its face. It raised its head to look at Salazar, bringing its eyes level with his, the great heft of its body thicker than the wizard's. Salazar looked into its eyes and broached its mind; he saw flashes of death, the snake delivering killing blows to its prey, to rats and birds. Had killed full grown deer. Once, a bear. An image flashed of it sinking its teeth into a man with green robes, letting its venom flow freely from its fangs, could feel the warmth of the fresh corpse sliding down its maw. His corpse. He may have control over this monster, but that did not mean it had to like him. Only his Parselmouth kept him safe from the venomous fangs that killed and ate indiscriminately. Salazar led the angry snake back to the Court.

Helga nearly trotted through the woods, at ease in its cool canopies, leaving Hugbert and Godric to walk fast to try and keep up. She did not know these woods well, but she knew the plants and what they liked, knew the birds and their song, knew the deer and their tracks. She knew, too, where the magical elements were. They called to her more clearly even than the wind at her back. First, she would find a hippogriff for Godric. Then she would sing for the unicorns.

Godric and Hugbert were chatting casually, Hugbert curious about the campaign Godric had been on against the Vikings. Godric was thrilled to recount the story, though when he had to retell the vile magic he encountered he hesitated.

"It sounds almost as if they were burning without a fire," Hugbert said, his voice low and tinged with fear at the thought.

"Well, some kind of fire, perhaps. The men formed boils, the wizard did as well. Searing things, leaving the flesh deeply scarred," Godric said.

"What happened to the wizard? You said you petrified him."

"Yes, and we intended to take him back as a prisoner. He died a short way into the trip back. I freed him from the petrification and the curse continued, as if nothing had happened. I performed the counter to it straight away, but it was too late for him by then. We buried him in his own land, at least."

"More than men like that deserve," Hugbert said, "though you show great nobility in your deed. Ah, Helga's stopped up ahead there, we must be near a creature."

The two men walked quickly towards Helga, who seemed to be peering into the trees at the edge of the small clearing they stood in.

"There's a hippogriff nearby, a little deeper into the woods here. Godric, I leave the approach up to you, this is your task, after all. One word of advice, though, is to bow before the creature."

Godric nodded, unsure of the advice but willing to accept it nonetheless. Then he stepped further into the woods. At first, Godric did not see the beast. With dark gray plumage it was not easy to pick out of the shadows, but Godric could spot an eye when it was looking at him. He noted immediately that the hippogriff seemed very aware and must therefore have some intelligence. Walking slowly towards the creature, he did not break eyes with it, wanted to make sure it knew he did not intend to hurt it. When he was still a dozen paces away, the hippogriff turned suddenly and reared slightly, its large talons flashing, and Godric stopped—stopping, too, his hand from reaching instinctively for his wand. Then he remembered Helga's advice and bowed, not breaking his sight on the hippogriff. A tense moment passed as the hippogriff did not move. Godric was ready to go for his wand if necessary. Then the hippogriff nodded its head, seeming to let its guard down. Godric took another tentative step forward, and when the hippogriff seemed more interested than cautious he walked within arms'—and talons'—reach. Stretching out a hand, he touched the feathers on the beast's neck, keeping a close eye on the beak, which looked more than strong enough to bite off his hand.

"Will you come with me to meet someone?" Godric asked, not sure how much the hippogriff understood. Magical beasts often knew more than they let on, but some of them were still rather daft. This one seemed to have intelligence behind its eyes.

The hippogriff let out a chirp, higher in pitch than Godric expected, and followed him back towards the clearing where Helga was singing. She stopped for a moment when they came into the clearing.

"Easier than dealing with a dragon," Godric said, "and a good deal less bloody."

"Yes, he seems to like you," Helga said after giving a small bow to the hippogriff. Hugbert knew the protocol as well, having flown on them a few times.

"Why do I bow to him on approach?" Godric asked, stroking the creature on the neck. It reminded him a bit of the courtesy shown an opponent before a duel, though petting the hippogriff was a far more mild experience.

"Hippogriffs remember what they have come from, they know what they are and demand the respect they deserve," Helga said.

"What, exactly, did they come from?"

"Very powerful, very old magic. A kind we don't see anymore, except in wonderful creatures like these," Helga said.

Godric was not sure he would get a more clear answer than that, and decided to change the topic.

"What is it you were singing, Helga?"

"An old family song, from my maiden side. The Hufflepuffs are not quite the naturalists that the Olivers were—"

"Though I suspect we will be now that we have you, dear," Hugbert said. His wife smiled at him. Their families were very different, more different than Helga often cared to admit. She did not grow up rough-and-tumble, but it seemed so to the more regal and refined Hufflepuffs, whose estate was palatial compared to the cottage of Helga's youth. Though not poor, her parents preferred a simpler life, one in tune with the natural world. The Hufflepuffs preferred fine glasses and thick rugs, only some of such fineries Helga ever really got accustomed to. Her initial relationship with Hugbert's parents was a bit contentious, and it wasn't until she proved her remarkable magical abilities that they truly welcomed her. They, like many wealthy wizarding families, had high sensibilities for themselves and wanted to prove their own worth as a great house in relation to Muggle nobility. Their son marrying a woman who lived like a commoner could not help, unless that woman proved spectacular in some way, which, of course, she had.

"Yes, I do hope the Hufflepuff line produces some extraordinary herbologists and caretakers of magical beasts. I guess we shall find out soon enough," Helga said.

With that, Godric looked at Helga with what she felt was suspicion as much as curiosity, though the intensity of Godric's emotions often made more innocuous feelings into something more.

"Oh if you want to ask, just ask," Hugbert said. "It won't be a secret much longer anyway." Helga smiled. She appreciated a husband who would say the things she sometimes did not feel gregarious enough to say, or at least not say it in the way she would really like to say it.

"Are you…. With child?" Godric asked.

"Yes," Helga said, her voice not more than a whisper, though the words slipped out between a bashful smile.

"My sincere congratulations, Helga. And to you, Hugbert. You must be very excited." Even the hippogriff gave a little chirp. "Who else knows? Rowena?"

"We are very excited, though it was a rather recent development. So recent, in fact, that you are the only one who knows at the moment. I have not yet had a moment to tell Rowena."

"Helga you must tell her tonight," Hugbert said, and Helga knew he was right. She herself had only known for a just over a week, but usually she told Rowena everything, right away, just as Rowena would tell her everything. She had just been so busy with all of them thinking about the trials and what it would mean for all of their magical kind and—

The hippogriff squawked and Helga's mind snapped back to the present. To the task at hand. Showing the King that he could trust them, not just to have a witch on the Court, but to live freely and in peace with each other.

"You're right, Hugbert. I will tell her tonight." Then Helga began to sing as she had before, an old song in an old tongue, one passed down in her family for generations, a song born in a time of very different magic.

As she sung the words, her voice trilling high and then falling into vibrato, Helga began to dance. At first her steps took her in small turns, but soon she was prancing around the clearing, her movements flowing and matching the song, then seeming to counter-melody with the song, then returning again to synchronize with it. Hugbert and Godric stood quietly, stunned at the grace and fullness of what they witnessed.

After only a few minutes, they heard a rustling in the trees across the clearing. Then, Godric saw it, the light glinting off its horn. A unicorn. He had not seen a living one before, or a whole one for that matter. Occasionally the Slytherins would come across one that had died of natural causes—very rarely were they killed. Their purity was so apparent to other creatures that most could not bear to harm such an animal. It was the purity of Helga's song and dance that attracted the unicorn.

She approached it slowly, still singing, her motions graceful and still dance-like. Her performance had not ended, only changed. In a moment, she was next to the unicorn and extending a hand to it. Its large nostrils flapped as it sniffed her hand with flaring nostrils. Helga had been hiding an apple in her robes, which she moved to her hand with a slickness that bested Godric's and Hugbert's attentions, appearing and then disappearing into the mouth of the unicorn. She flapped her tail in delight and let Helga rub her forehead and snout. Helga still sung to her softly, and for a moment it seemed as though they danced together. Godric and Hugbert both felt their hearts fill; never in his life, Godric thought, had he seen something as beautiful. Never in his life would he forget it.

With a final trailing note, Helga stopped her song. Then she gripped the mane of the unicorn and flung herself backwards and up onto her, patting her rump, Helga's legs dangling off the side together. She sat on the unicorn casually, as if it were any other animal.

"Mount up, boys. I believe we can still reach the Court before sundown."

Godric looked at Hugbert whose smile was beaming, directed at Helga. When Hugbert looked at Godric, the smile faded into a smirk.

"Well, you've ridden a horse before. Not so different, a hippogriff," Hugbert said, then turned back to Helga. "I think I'll just trot alongside you, Helga, best to let Godric ride solo for his first time."

Helga spoke to the unicorn in a sing-song voice and it began a slow walk in the direction of Lundenburg. Hugbert had to walk fast beside it, though he had long enough legs that it was not a problem—even if he did prefer an ambling pace himself.

Godric looked at the hippogriff again when Helga and Hugbert had left the clearing.

"Well my new friend, it's just you and me. I'm going to get on you now and we'll follow Helga and the unicorn back to the Court. I suspect the King will take a good look at you, though I doubt he'll bow, and we'll have you back here in the forest before midnight."

The hippogriff chirped at him, a bit anxiously it seemed to Godric. Then he gripped the back of the hippogriff somewhere between its folded-up wings and the beast squawked at him rather annoyed, turning his great eagle head and staring at him with one focused eye.

"Sorry. Not the place to grip, then."

Godric felt around the hippogriff's back a bit more for a fleshy, rather than feathery, part. He found what he thought might be that bit and gave it a squeeze and the hippogriff did not respond, so he figured that must be a better hold. Then he swung himself up as though it were a great, bird-like horse. He gave the hippogriff a nice rub on the neck again, still holding tight with one hand, and gave a firm tap with his boot heels into the creature's sides, as he would a horse to get it to trot. But instead of trotting, the hippogriff jumped, launching them both in the air—and Godric nearly off his back—spread open his wings and flapped hard towards the town.

Upon their arrival back to the Court building, the four witches and wizards (Hugbert having returned directly to The Leaky Cauldron) turned heads with their beasts, although most of those heads turned immediately back around, and the bodies of those heads carried themselves away fast. The Muggles did not like to look at magic, fearing even the sight of it could be considered participation in it. They could be expelled from their homes, treated as a witch or wizard themselves. Better to have nothing at all to do with it, pretend like it did not exist.

Salazar came back first, the enormous snake following him like a well-trained dog. The guards of the Court were shocked and drew their weapons.

"This snake will do you no harm," Salazar said, thinking to himself unless I command it to. The guards were not put at eased by this, though. They led Salazar cautiously through the building to an open courtyard. He was told to wait there. Finding a bench to sit on, Salazar took out his sketching tools and began documenting the beauty of the courtyard, the statues and plants, the birds that came to the flowers. He let the snake curl up in a bush and rest.

Soon after, Godric arrived, the heavy flaps of the hippogriff's wings causing the guards to again draw their weapons. The hippogriff landed and did not make any attempt to approach them, and they lowered their arms cautiously.

"Will someone show me in?" Godric asked. "I promised this beast he would return home before too long, and I do not wish to keep the King waiting."

Godric was led around the building, as the hippogriff seemed just too large to fit through the doors, at least comfortably. None of the guards seemed too interested in being stuck with the hippogriff at close quarters—it was bad enough having to be near the thing at all. With the hippogriff in the courtyard, Godric walked over to greet Salazar, and the two chatted as they waited for the witches.

Rowena arrived next, the guards confused but relieved that she did not seem to have anything with her. One asked if she had completed the task, and she assured them that she had by removing a jar from her robes. The guards gazed at the fairy, dazzled by its beauty. After a good look Rowena put the bottle back away, and then they took her, too, to the courtyard.

Helga came last, having stopped several times along the way to let the unicorn graze or to investigate an interesting plant. The unicorn shone in the late afternoon sun, its silver mane and tail glistening. The guards nearly dropped their weapons in awe of such a creature, one they had all heard of in fairy tales. A creature they were glad really existed, astounded that they would actually see one. For all of them, it would be the most beautiful thing they would see in their lives. Shaking and wanting to, but too afraid to touch the unicorn, they led Helga in and through the hallways while she rode and sang. Her voice and the glow of the unicorn filled the stone halls until they reached the courtyard, where that sound and light then washed over the peaceful square. Helga greeted her fellows genially. They spoke together, grateful that the first task had been so easy, certain that the King would be impressed by their work.

At sunset the King arrived. Hamish was with him, and Godric and Salazar exchanged a look. They still did not know quite what he wanted, but they were becoming more certain that he would sabotage these trials somehow. He spoke closely to the King; they could not even tell if his lips were moving. The King nodded, then spoke to the four.

"I see you all have found your creatures. I am impressed you were able to retrieve them so quickly. Lord Slytherin assured me that you were all quite capable, I see now he was not mistaken. Master Slytherin, I was told you were the first to arrive back. Tell me what you have brought for me," the King said, his voice even and clear, not betraying any secret emotion. Standing, the King seemed neither imposing nor small.

"My King, I have returned with the largest and most powerful snake of the forest. A master of predators, it is older than our fathers. Only magic could make a creature like this," Salazar said. The snake lay coiled at his feet in thick rings piled up several feet tall.

"How do you control such a beast?" The King asked, though Salazar could see Hamish looking with more intent.

"I have it under my spell. It is no more harmful now than a foot-long garden snake." What Salazar said was not quite a lie, but not quite the truth either.

"How can I be sure that the spell will hold? Is there any chance this snake will attack?"

"None, my lord. As long as I breathe, the spell will hold."

"And is that true of all spells?" the King asked. Salazar found his curiosity curious. Clearly the man had some interest in their world, but could that interest be more than just for his own ends? Or was this a question that Hamish put him up to?

"It is true of most of them. Many more will weaken at the death of the caster."

"Very well. You may step aside," the King said, then he looked at the two larger beasts before turning to Rowena. "Miss Ravenclaw, what have you brought?"

"Your highness, I have brought fairies of the woods. Though often fickle, they provide some useful magical qualities and elements to those who know how to use them," Rowena said.

"Are you a witch who knows how to use them?" he asked.

"I am, my lord. My wand, which I helped craft, is made in part from a fairy's wing."

"They are rather beautiful. I could see my wife wanting one for no more than decoration. What else can they do?"

"Fairy droppings can be used in a number of potions, and their larva can be made into a paste that helps burns heal without scarring."

The King kept staring at the fairies as Rowena spoke, he seemed completely enamored.

"Can you take this one out of the bottle? I would like to hold it," he said, choosing the fairy with sapphires.

Rowena complied, carefully uncorking the bottle and coaxing the fairy out and onto the King's hand. He looked at the creature and caressed it as it sat on his hand, the blues of its dress and jewels shimmering. It weighed nothing at all; it only touched his hand because it did not wish to fly. After a minute of this, the King returned the fairy to the bottle. Rowena thought she caught the smallest trace of a smile.

"Master Gryffindor, what is the name of this beast you have brought?" the King asked.

"This, my lord, is a hippogriff. It is a beast of great honor, best approached only after showing it the courtesy of a bow," Godric said, hoping his phrasing would not offend the King, or at least convince him not to come close.

"I am quite used to courtesy the other way around," the King said, annoyed. "Hamish, bow to it and approach it."

Hamish nearly spoke, his face scrunched into confusion, but he knew better than to question his King. The King did not repeat himself, he merely stood and waited, and it seemed his patience for waiting was waning fast. Hamish stepped forward and bowed to the hippogriff, though his bow was little more than a nod. Without waiting for a response, the man stepped forward.

"I would wait for the creature to respond," Godric said.

"Do not speak to me when I am acting on behalf of the King," Hamish said, ire in his eyes. It seemed he would prefer that the wizard never speak to him, though he knew he had no authority to say as much. Hamish stiffened up and walked faster towards the hippogriff, who reared.

The hippogriff tried to snap its opened beak forward, but Godric had it firmly by the fleshy spot in its back he had used to mount. Though it took tremendous strength, Godric kept the hippogriff from lunging forward. He noticed that Salazar had pulled out his wand subtly; it blended into his robes, hard to spot. Hamish had lunged back and out of the way, though too slowly it seemed to Godric to have avoided the hippogriff on his own.

"That is enough, Hamish," the King said. "This is a beast of great will. It is a pleasure to know it, even from a distance. Master Gryffindor, you tamed it with merely a bow?"

"A little more than that, my lord, but not much. It is my understanding," his very, very recent understanding, "that these hippogriffs can sense more than respect in a man. They can bond quickly, but only if the trust is established at once." Though Godric was not sure of what he was saying, he said it with confidence in hopes of winning over the King.

"Fascinating. You walked with it here?"

"No, my lord, I flew on it."

"Flew?"

"Yes, the hippogriff has mighty wings. It can carry at least one man, a larger one may carry two smaller men," Godric said, hazarding another guess based on what little he knew of their strength.

The King seemed to weigh this information heavily. Perhaps he was thinking about how to weaponize these animals into a flying cavalry. The thought had occurred to Godric as soon as he felt stable flying back on the creature. Then, without warning, the King turned to Helga.

"Miss Hufflepuff. You have brought a rare gift. Truly something of legend," he spoke but his voice was still even-keeled; his lack of acknowledgement of the unicorn before made Helga surprised at the high praise she was receiving now. "I am unsure where to begin. How did you catch this animal?"

"My lord, I have not caught it. The unicorn is here with me of her own will, the same as the hippogriff and, I'm sure," though she wasn't, "of the fairies and the great serpent. It is not our kind's way to force servitude."

"If you did not catch it, how did you come about finding it?" The King asked, his voice again becoming testy. He did not appreciate an unexpected lecture. In fact, beneath his cool exterior his blood was boiling to be spoken to like that, and he let it pass only because the gift he received was so great. But he knew in that moment that Helga would not be an appropriate pick for the court. She would be liable to do more than give council when asked.

"I sang for her," Helga said. "I sang an ancient song, one my family has known for many generations. I sang it in an old tongue, one all but the stones and rivers have forgotten. Unicorns are attracted to pureness in all its forms, and may be scared away or suspicious of the impure," Helga said, her eyes darting towards Hamish, whom the unicorn had kept its ears pricked towards.

The King stepped toward the unicorn slowly, though half the unicorn's attention remained on Hamish. She did not seem to mind him, though she did not seem excited, either. She swished her tail a few times, then the King rubbed her snout. He could not suppress a small smile.

"I grew up hearing about creatures like this. Never in my life did I think I would see one. It shines like no diamond I have known, nor any metal. It is something more," the King said. Standing closer to the unicorn, touching her, the King's temper grew soft again.

"Magic," Helga said.

"Yes. Of a very special kind," he said as he stepped away from the unicorn and made his way back to Hamish. The unicorn stirred something in him. Perhaps Helga should still be considered if she could gain the trust of such a beast, summon it to her with little more than an old song. He looked at Hamish with sadness in his eyes and whispered something to him. Godric could see his lips flash, it looked like he said, "Do you think they must". Hamish's reply was short, though his lips did not move—he must have nearly hissed his confirmation.

"There is one final portion of this trial," the King spoke loudly—too loudly, "You must now slaughter the beasts you have brought to me. You shall do it by your own hand, not with spells." Hamish curled his lips in what looked to be somehow both a smirk and a scowl.

Godric, Salazar, and Rowena all turned their eyes immediately to Helga. They all seemed to know from seeing how the King treated Hamish that the such royalty was not used to waiting or being questioned. Still, Rowena knew her friend did not even like to slaughter a chicken for dinner. A unicorn was another matter entirely—one the King did not seem to really understand, perhaps could not be made to understand. Godric nearly spoke up in her defense, was ready to beg and plead not to make Helga kill the unicorn, although he knew if he must that he himself would break the promise he made to the hippogriff of returning it home. Salazar, in part to buy time for the rest to decide what to do, made a show of his slaughter.

"My liege, I offer the blood of this great serpent to you," Salazar said. He drew a small knife from his robes. It was not a weapon—he had a wand for most everything he needed, but sometimes the tool still came in handy. He whispered a hiss to the snake to make bring its head up to about chest height. The blade, only a few inches long, took more strength than Salazar expected to actually cut into the snake, pressing the knife down through its head. He had told the snake it would return unharmed, in that lie he knew there would be some retribution, though the path of that punishment may not be clear. He did not like what he had to do, but killing the snake or refusing the order would both besmirch his House. Finally, with great commitment, the blade came out the other side and the snake sagged down to the ground.

The King hardly seemed to react, merely turning slightly away from Salazar. Godric knew if he had any chance of even somewhat easily subduing the hippogriff, he had better act fast—it seemed to be picking up on the fact that something was wrong. He drew his sword and whispered his apologies to the hippogriff. He understood well the power of authority in the Muggle world, a force as strong as any magic he knew. He hoped that the hippogriff could in a way understand the necessity of his death, at least understand Godric's honest remorse. With a mighty plunge, Godric sank his sword deep into the hippogriff's chest, piercing his heart. The hippogriff swiped at him, the blow already weakened by the drippings of death spreading through his body, and the talons grazed Godric's chest gently, leaving faint scratches that did not draw blood. Then that corpse, too, slumped to the floor. The unicorn stamped its feet at the death around it but made no motion to flee.

Again, the King made no comment, he simply turned to Rowena. She had already removed the three fairies from the bottles. She had never killed something before, at least nothing more than an insect. Maybe one toad, by accident. Never something like this, never to something so undeserving. The fairy whose wing was in her wand had died naturally, her body given freely to Rowena. They felt so fragile in her hands, so frail. She had always handled them with the lightest touch, these creatures that used to be her only playmates. She realized she did not know what to do. She did not have a knife. She looked to Salazar, but he quickly looked away, not meeting her eyes. In her confusion she became angry, and without thinking at all she threw the fairies to the ground and stamped on one, then the next, and with no hesitation the third. They did not move. It was over. Their tiny bodies were mashed and twisted like a squashed bug's, their little dresses faded off them into ash and then nothing.

Finally, the King turned to Helga. She could see he looked sorrowful; even a Muggle knew what a crime slaughtering a beast as pure as a unicorn was. But the sorrow was faint, hidden under a layer of fastidiousness he called royalty. Helga could feel herself shaking. She did not want this, wanted to refuse the task entirely, refuse all these trials, just go home. Doing so could jeopardize the situation for everyone. The King may decide that none of them were worthy to sit on the Court. Their best chance at showing the Muggles that they can live in peace together would be through before it began. Who knew when another chance would come? Perhaps never. Especially if a man like Hamish would spread rumors through the Court about how untrustworthy the magical folk were. How they disobeyed the King. How they should be hunted. Helga thought she may never forgive herself for what she was about to do, but she could see no way out of it that would not ruin this rare opportunity. The magical folk had a need to live in harmony, it was a core part of her that she could feel, that drove her to tend to her garden and show kindness to all creatures. That harmony could only be attained with the others of her kind, Muggles, through a vile act. She did not have to like it. She just had to do it. Helga noticed that Godric held out his sword to her, the hilt was within easy reach. He had tears in his eyes, streaming down his cheeks, for her or for the unicorn or for both she knew not. Taking the sword, her trembling continued, and the long metal blade shook as a cold extension to her fear. Helga had seen horses put down before, she knew where to cut to make death come quickly and without pain, but she had never done it. Trembling, trembling, trying to steady the sword, Helga thought to speak to the unicorn. She tried to whisper to it, to apologize, to explain. She opened her mouth, closed it again when no sound came out, as she drew the sword up level with the unicorn's neck. The unicorn did not seem to know what was going on, did not sense its own death so innocent was it, like a small child. Helga pressed her hand against the beast, felt its warm white hairs, breathed in its scent, like dirt after rain. The perfume of life anew, of life's potential. The unicorn did not move, neither afraid nor aware of its approaching fate, it simply looked at her. Maybe it did know, maybe it knew all of what Helga felt, knew the necessity of her situation. Maybe it understood and accepted what must come. Helga opened her mouth again. To her surprise, a song burst forth. Louder and fuller than the one she sang to attract the unicorn, her voice contained a new quality, one she did not recognize in herself. A kind of pain that came out as roughness and lowness against her usually clear and flowing soprano. The words she sang were of her old tongue, words she had never strung together before, had maybe heard when she was very young, or perhaps very old in another life. Tears filled her eyes and then her cheeks, dripping ceaselessly onto her robes as she pressed the blade into and across the unicorn's neck, rupturing open thick arteries, silver blood flooding the blade and her hands, the shine of the creature's horn losing its gleam. The beast fell halfway on its front legs, then her hind legs gave out. Helga fell to her knees as well, helped the unicorn roll on her side, held her head and sang as the blood suddenly stopped flowing out of her. Her arms were silver and sticky; she petted the still body of the unicorn, leaving long silver smears across its white neck. The unicorn's eye was glossy and empty. Helga finished her song in a wretched note, the pain and disdain for herself and what she had done coming through her voice more horrible than a banshee's wail. Somewhere deep in her she felt a tear, as if her very soul were ready to shatter.

Helga felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked up at the tear-stricken green eyes of Salazar Slytherin.