Autumn 1991

Ronald Weasley

Ron sat down heavily at the small table across from Salazar, taking slow and hazy breaths. A cup sat in front of him, steam swirling in tight spirals with the scent of cinnamon. He wrapped his hands around it, absorbing the warmth and letting his fingers be eased from the harsh grip he had held on to his wand with. Across from him, Sal sat quietly, observing him, the small crackle of the hearth glowing through his chest.

Ron took the cup to his lips and sipped it cautiously. Although Sal had warned him that the tea wouldn't replenish him or even hydrate him, he savoured the heat travelling down and into his chest. Despite the nothingness that comprised the liquid, he found it tasted just how he liked it; a dash of milk and a spoon of cinnamon-mixed sugar. He had to force himself not to ask Sal for a slice of cake. Sal had told him he would starve to death eating in the room of requirement, and he wondered if that meant he could eat as many sweets as he liked without worrying what it might do to him.

"No," Sal said simply. "It would make you sick if you ate too much."

Ron gave him a slightly embarrassed smile. He found it hard to treat Sal unlike anyone else, and most people couldn't read his every thought. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"I think we're ready to move on," Salazar said with a hint of a smirk. "You've done well these last few sessions, boy, and you can cast the disarming charm quite competently. I think that you are well prepared to at least stand some chance of not immediately dying should someone desire to kill you."

Ron nearly choked on his drink, his eyes widening. "You think someone will try to kill me?"

"No," Salazar shook his head. "I mean to say that you will be ready in case of danger. Not that you will be specifically targeted. That is to say, no one will try to kill you until you give them a reason to do so. Which is why my existence and your status as the Guardian must remain a secret. If it were to travel about, you might find that the threat Hogwarts faces will seek you out rather than the other way around."

"Right," Ron nodded, thinking of how he had mentioned his guilt about lying a number of times already. The founder had reassured him that it was for the greater good and that he had to be careful to not place himself in danger. He wasn't sure that Salazar made him feel any better about it. He still hated lying to his friends, and he desperately wanted someone to help shoulder his concerns.

"Soon," Salazar gave him an empathetic look. "It doesn't have to remain a secret forever. Only, it must remain so until you are ready to reveal yourself. You must build trust with your friends so that one day they may stand beside you, if you wish them to do so. When you have a better arsenal of spells, and you believe that someone has earned sufficient trust, I will allow you to tell them. But until then, you must be patient."

Ron frowned into his cup and took another sip. "I just want to save my brother."

Salazar sighed deeply and shifted forward slightly in his seat. "If you act with haste, you will only make it more likely that he will suffer."

"I know, it's just… I'm still having nightmares. Not visions… but they're almost as disturbing…" Ron's voice trailed off.

Sal gave him a sorry look. Ron thought that it was the kind of look that he might have given a pet. He was sure he had looked at Scabbers the same way when the stupid rat had accidentally bit its own tail. As if to say you were sorry but only because they didn't quite understand what had happened.

Salazar frowned at him. "You are in a terrible mood today."

"Maybe," Ron said sheepishly. He had barely slept, and he felt the weight of their training pushing down on him. He was exhausted.

"Perhaps you'd like to talk about something less dreary? How about the gold you have taken, have you spent any of it?"

Ron blushed slightly. "Some, yes. I used a Galleon to buy candy for my friends. I thought it was kind of something I could do for them, to say… thank you."

"Commendable," Sal nodded. "And how did your friends like this candy? Did it go over how you hoped?"

"No, not really. I mean, Blaise and Tracey accepted their share but Daphne wouldn't. She said that she didn't want to feel as if she owed me something. She made me wager over a game of chess. And, well, I won, but only because she let me. She didn't want to win, she said that losing is sometimes worth it if it gets you what you want."

Salazar gave him a strange look. "It's not a tactic I've ever used. I suppose, there could be an occasion where losing is preferable. But, to me, that sounds like the work of the untrustworthy. I was a schemer yes, but I was also a man of my word. I would never enter a contest for purposeful defeat. Perhaps, that's honour, but many men would say I had none. Nonetheless, I think your heart was in the right place. I think it speaks more of this Daphne girl that she would not accept a gift than it does of you for offering it. A gift doesn't have to be repaid in exact measures. It's, as I said about the galleons I offered you, your work as the Guardian is payment enough. In Slytherin house, well, I would say that the same principle applies. The houses were meant to be families beyond all else and they had the intention of providing a place where you may belong. You would not demand repayment from your brother for something you lent him, would you?" Sal asked and Ron shook his head. "No, because some forms of repayment can't be spoken about by words. They can come only from the soul, such as love, family, or friendship."

Ron let out a short breath. "I didn't make a mistake?" He asked seriously. There had been a moment the night before when he lay awake and wondered if he had accidentally misstepped. He wondered if his friends, mostly Blaise and Tracy, thought he was attempting to bribe them. After all, he thought grimly, they knew he was poor.

"No, it wasn't a mistake." Sal scoffed. "I'm sure they say horrible things about me, as you've eluded. But, I am not heartless. I have given many gifts in my lifetime, especially to my friends. Never candy, but only because it would seem a waste to me, but other things; Jewels, weapons, tombs, and spells. I had given Helena once a very nice opal, that had cost me a lot. But it was from a Frankish trader and, well, I knew it would go nicely with her eyes. I think I might have taken offence if she refused me."

"I'm not mad at her," Ron said. "It was… odd. I've never met someone with that kind of attitude before."

"You'll meet many different people, even among your fellow Slytherins. Not everyone will think like you, in fact, most won't. However, that doesn't make them wrong or you right. Only that you have differences. I was very different from Godric, and he was my closest friend. And, well, as you know, I did not believe my own words strongly enough. Our disagreements drove us apart until I made the decision to leave. A foolish decision. I don't have memories of what I did after I left Hogwarts but I expect it wasn't worth the isolation. Especially as Godric was right, and here Hogwarts still stands."

"Do you miss them?" Ron found himself asking. He knew Sal talked about them often, but he wasn't sure what exactly Sal was. Not a portrait, but not a person either.

"Deeply so," Sal told him plainly, a hint of regret in his eyes. "Perhaps I will see them again? There is likely to be a portrait of each of them, somewhere. Perhaps hidden."

"Would you like me to look for them?" Ron asked. He felt bad that Sal had almost nobody left in the world.

Salazar opened his mouth and then closed it again quickly. "I think not, it would do me no good to have such hope. It would only delay our training and my lecturing. After you've saved this place, perhaps I will request that you look. I have an idea for where Helga might be, but it would be too dangerous for you to leave the school. And you wouldn't have the knowledge yet to access the place safely."

Ron nodded. He supposed that after Hogwarts was safe, there would be a lot of time for him to look for anything belonging to the other founders. He originally only agreed to protect Hogwarts because Sal said it was the only way that Charlie could live, but now a small part of him wanted to help just because Salazar asked. He found the older professor to be stern but kind when he needed to be and that was enough for Ron to feel like they had a genuine friendship. Even if it was built entirely around some ritual that neither of them really had a choice to be a part of, he was somewhat glad that it was Salazar who was helping him and not someone else. He couldn't imagine a better partner, even if most of the pressure of everything was laid on Ron's shoulders alone, he had Sal to guide him and teach him what he needed.

Sal cleared his throat gently. "What are you learning in your defence class?" he asked, shifting the conversation back to their training.

"Not very much," Ron shrugged. "The class is kind of a joke. Professor Quirrell mostly tells some very short stories and then talks about mending certain kinds of bites or scratches. Like which potion we should use if we get attacked by a banshee."

Sal frowned deeply. "And what about spells?"

Ron huffed. He wished Quirrell would bother to teach them a spell or two. "Nothing," he said a little bitterly. "We don't learn spells in defence."

Sal's face somehow seemed to sink further. "No spells? That's not good at all. I mean, I assumed you would learn something outside of the disarming charm. It is good to keep you alive, but there are other ways to defend yourself."

"I don't think Professor Quirrell bathes," Ron said frankly. "If he tried to teach us anything, he would probably smell rotten."

"I worry that it's not his choice…"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked. Didn't professors choose what to teach?

"I mean, boy, that perhaps your professor is being told to avoid teaching you spells, perhaps by the threat to Hogwarts or by the government. Whichever is most afraid, I would say. To avoid a generation of wizards who know how to defend themselves."

Ron's eyes widened. "You mean they could try to avoid another war by just not teaching us anything!?"What the fuck!

"It's just a possibility," Sal clicked his tongue. "But one that we must watch for. It will make our work harder, as I will have to teach you mostly myself. Perhaps we will be lucky and your modern times are just different from my own. Perhaps they wait until you're older to begin teaching duelling now. In which case, I shouldn't worry. But until we know for sure, we will assume that someone, maybe just your professor, is intentionally avoiding teaching spells."

"You're probably a better teacher anyway," Ron told him. He would much rather learn from Salazar than from Quirrell.

"Perhaps, but there is an issue with that. I haven't learned many of your modern spells, as I've told you. And, most of the ones I know require significant strain to cast properly. As your muscles aren't dense enough yet, I feel you may have trouble casting them without exhausting yourself or even hurting yourself." Sal frowned. "Which means, unfortunately, you must be given your first mission."

"A mission?" Ron's eyes I going to have to duel someone!?

"You must find a spell book that includes dangerous spells, those intended to be used in rapid succession. The room could create some, but they would only hold the knowledge I already have. Which would lead us back to the same issue. So, you must find something in the castle itself. The library perhaps."

Ron frowned, he knew that anything interesting was locked behind a gate inside of the restricted section. "They'd be locked away."

"Then I will leave it in your hands to find a solution," Sal told him. "I could help you, yes, but I don't think the need is great as of yet. You could have many more years of growth before the threat arises. So, until you find those spells, I will continue to teach you some of the ones I already know. Which will exhaust you, of course, but at least they will be something you can use."

Ron nodded. He would have to try and find a way to get into the library when no one else was around. Maybe he could sneak in at night. He frowned, it would mean breaking the rules, and he knew Percy would have his head. He swallowed thickly.

"Which should you like to learn first?" Sal asked him. "The exploding charm?"