Greatest of The Hogwarts Four

[minihagrid]

I have finally yeilded to all the death threats and pressure from Oli and decided to repost this story. It is incomplete, but  I will try to get more done gradually. Ill post it a whole chapter at a time. Bear in mind that this will be three fics on the go for me now, so ill work on all of them whenever I can. None of them have priority.

And for you experianced readers of this story, I have changed the ending of where I got to before.

[minihagrid]

Chapter1: The founders

The golden eagle owl flew through the arch-window, a letter held within its claws. It headed towards Salazar, and dropped the brownish envelope neatly into his hand. He turned it over. It read:

           Salazar,
           Official business of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry
           
He slipped one of his long, pale fingers under the newly set purple wax seal, the crest of the newly founded Hogwarts. He unfolded the heavy yellow parchment and read, with increasing interest lining his face:

     Dear Salazar, One of the four,
           Today is the opening of the largest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. After several years of searching, we have decided to accept the following pupils, whom we feel to have the potential. We are awaiting your reply and confirmation of the list. We are also still waiting for you to take up your post as Dark Arts teacher.
     Yours with anticipation,
                 Helga Hufflepuff
                 Godric Gryffindor
                 Rowena Ravenclaw
                             
Salazar’s narrow, white eyes scanned down the list, looks of increasing anger showing on his face. Finally, his frustration got the better of him. With a snarl of anger, he swept up his emerald green cloak and turned towards the door, scattering several of his owl’s feathers from the staggered bird.
     
‘Follow, Serpen,’ he muttered. He grabbed his crooked ash broomstick and flew off into the night sky with his owl soaring effortlessly behind him. It was getting late and the night sky was fast approaching, so the great wizard took out his Phoenix Feather wand and muttered a short word. The wand lit up, sending a broad beam of light in a forward’s direction, allowing him to see his destination.
     
He flew over his village, which was empty except for a few wizards working at the inn, removing people after closing. This was the only wizarding village in the country, and as there was no sign of muggles anywhere, magic could go unnoticed. One of the larger estates here had a small dragon tethered in the garden.
     
It wasn’t a long journey, and very shortly, Salazar spotted the grounds of his descent. He commanded his broom to lower near the massive, oak entrance doors. His owl also landed, and perched on his arm silently. He creaked open the doors and looked around him. The hall he was in was littered with doorways and staircases, yet he knew exactly where he was heading.
     
After several flights and passing through countless doors, he arrived at the base of a large, ashen grey, twisted Gargoyle. The eagle owl repulsed at this sight, and flew off on her own. The wizard let her go, for now.
     
‘I am Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. I command you to open!’ he barked.
     
The Gargoyle slid sideways, revealing a narrow passage leading upwards. He climbed the spiral staircase until he reached the top, where he rasped on the door, and, without waiting for a reply, he entered the small, circular office, where a large man in a scarlet red cloak and hat sat behind a desk, in deep conversation with two witches.
     
Salazar knew these three very well; after all, they had founded this school together. But the feelings he now had towards them were not those of a long-time friend. He felt hot, blood red anger seeping through his veins. They all calmly faced him.
     

[minihagrid]

‘Good evening to you,’ said the wizard. He stood up, and briskly walked over to Salazar. ‘May I take it that you have a disagreement with us over something?’
     
‘I want to know the meaning of this!’ He exclaimed, thrusting the crumpled list in his face.
     
‘That would be the list of people attending Hogwarts this coming harvest season. I don’t understand what the problem is, it is quite simple.’ This wizard was named Godric Gryffindor, one of the most powerful and great wizards of the time, if not ever. He was also a magnificent warrior, and his sword was gleaming in his belt.
     
‘But some of the people here are not… not the same as us!’ Salazar had finally reached the point he wanted to make. ‘For instance… Germane Granger… none of her family are wizards yet she is accepted to this school! We are not here to help these, these mudbloods! They are mistakes from the line of muggles they belong to!’
     
‘We are not here to judge the origin of these magical children, but we are here to help them,’ butted in a rather plump witch, Helga Hufflepuff. She wore folded robes of a deep, canary yellow with black trim.
     
‘I concur,’ added the third member of the party, a tall, smart witch named Rowena Ravenclaw, dressed all in blue.
     
‘If you are going to base your beliefs on age old fashions Salazar, than you can leave this school. We have no place for prejudice.’ Godric said, firmly.
     
This comment stung Salazar. He was not about to give up on the work that he had begun almost twelve years ago, although reluctantly. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘You can keep your selection, as long as I have some…allowance here.’
     
‘What do you mean?’ said Rowena. She was a very pretty witch, regarded by many as the best in the world.
     
‘I mean that I shall pick my own students, my own choices. They shall become my subjects until they reach magical maturity. They shall become my family around me, taught in my image.’
     
The interest of the other three founders increased here. ‘I think that that idea is plausible, don’t you Godric?’ said Helga. ‘In fact, I think that I shall like to select my own members as well, my own family. As you know, we are all different, and have different skills.’
     
‘Yes, I like that idea. We all have different views over who we wish to teach, so lets be given that allowance.’
     
With these statements from the other three, Godric had no choice. He didn’t particularly like the idea of hand-selection, but he was willing to entertain it.
     
‘Fine,’ he said with an air of disappointment. ‘We shall scrap the list and select our own separate students. We shall teach them in whichever way suits each one of us, and allow them to follow in our footsteps.’ If that is a good idea, he thought looking at Salazar.
     
With the air of someone emerging victorious in battle, Salazar turned on his heel and headed towards the door.
     
‘And Salazar, do not try to interfere with our choices, and we shall not interfere with yours. Are we understood?’ Godric added.
     
Without turning around, Salazar murmured an agreement and left the room, with a slight smirk and an improved mood with him.
     
‘Now ladies,’ he heard the Wizard say. ‘How about that Quidditch match we were talking about? Is next Tuesday fine…’

[minihagrid]

It’s been a long time in coming, but here it is: part three.
     Sorry if it’s a bit boring, but this part is essential!

Salazar made his way back down the castle stairs and arrived in the entrance hall. ‘First things first,’ he thought silently. ‘I shall have to establish myself at my new… home.’
     
He stepped outside and relocated his broomstick, perched against the stony castle walls. Also in the vicinity was his eagle owl, flying high up above. Salazar watched with a feeling of anticipation as she swooped down low, targeting her prey with deadly accuracy. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, and glided towards him. As she perched herself on his arm, he spoke to her in a soft, lulling voice:
     
‘We have a lot of work ahead of us, my dear friend. Are you up to the task?’
     
The owl nodded, her beak snapping away on the dormouse she had just acquired.
     
‘Than we will begin immediately, starting with the search for the students who are worthy of following in my footsteps, the ones who can become true Slytherins!’
     
The ambitious wizard, who had lived a full and productive life thus far, decided that his first selection should begin immediately, starting with the next of kin of some of his former associates. He headed back to his meagre house, situated at the top of a small hill at the northern end of Hogsmeade. He flew over the ‘Three Broomsticks inn’, which was currently occupied by a horde of Goblins who were obviously up to no good refusing to leave. That will end in tears, thought Salazar.

Slytherin shook his head in disgust. He despised these part-magical creatures, human or other. They did not have any particular status in the role of life. Not in one group or another. Instead, they can lay claim to both, having the benefits of two worlds. They shed the weaknesses of being a muggle, an ordinary, plain creature and replaced them with the power of magic.

He pushed open the door of his wooden shack, and crept inside. His owl flew up ahead of him, and entered the house through the window. As Salazar entered a runespoor slithered over to him.
‘Where have you been, masssssster?’ it asked. ‘You left in sssssssuch a state that we were all conssssserned.’
This magnificent beast was one of Salazar’s personal favourites. It was several feet long, with striped black and green scales, unusual colouring, even for a runespoor. But, the most redeeming feature of the runespoor was its multiple heads. Three of them in fact. Salazar had acquired this creature on a journey to African forests, while it was still a young infant. He had grown to trust it.
Salazar did indeed have the ability to speak to and understand snakes. He never knew how he gained his ability, as both of his parents were killed when he was but a child. It gave him a place of importance over many wizards, and it was the reason he was chosen for the task of founding Hogwarts.
Indeed, Salazar Slytherin was indeed the last member to be chosen of this particular group. He still remembered the day he had been asked. He had received a letter from a beautiful snowy owl. At first, he had not recognised it. Then he realised that it was Godric Gryffindor’s own. The letter read:

Salazar,
     I realise that we have not spoken to each other in a long time, but I was wondering if you would be willing to help me out in a little situation we have occurred. Please visit as soon as you read this letter.
     Godric Gryffindor

Slytherin had indeed responded to the letter, and had set out immediately for Godric hollow. Gryffindor was indeed waiting for him. He had invited him to join the founding members in building a school to educate young witches and wizards. He had noticed Salazar’s important work in the previous years and said that he wished him to help. At first, Salazar rejected the offer. As he left, Godric told him that he was desperate and that Salazar was his last person capable for the job.

Last person. The last. This had left him feeling like an outcast. Only asked because they were desperate.

But this did not concern the wizard. He was still youthful, and had a bright future ahead of him. He had made extraordinary discoveries in many fields recently and was well known throughout the wizarding world.
He sat down at his work desk, and began his work. Who needed his comrades to accept him? He had enough ways to keep himself busy for now…
 

[minihagrid]

He moved along the soggy path, slipping to and fro along the mood. The rain was beating down on his hooded cloak. He had left his broomstick at home in Hogsmeade and decided to apparate here instead. Little Hangleton.

As he strode towards the wooden door of the crude, stone hut, it burst open and a man in a dull brown cloak stepped out, pointing his long thin wand straight at Salazar’s nose.

‘Who are you?!’ the man demanded. ‘Leave us alone!’

Salazar lifted his hood and revealed his crooked face. His long, greasy hair was splattered with the rainwater. ‘It is me, Edward, I wish to speak to you about an important matter,’

‘Sal- so sorry, I had no idea it was you! Please come in!’ Edward bowed low and allowed the man to pass by him.

‘What do you wish w-‘ the man began, but he was interrupted.

‘How is your son?’ Salazar asked. It wasn’t a question.

‘Fine,’ the man replied, a look of puzzlement crossing his face. Salazar had never spoken to his son, never seen him before, so why he would wish to ask how he was was a mystery. ‘What do you wish of him?’

‘I wish to offer him an invitation, an invitation which would change his life forever. I daresay you heard the rumours about the new school?’

‘Y-y-yes, everyone has, but I didn’t believe a word of it!’ Edward was very wary now.

‘Well its true. I wish to offer your son a place alongside the best four wizards and witches in the world. He will go to Hogwarts this September, and spend a year of his life there, learning alongside his fellows. You will receive details later.’ He turned towards the door. ‘I bid you farewell. I shall be seeing you soon, no doubt.’

And with these words, he left, his green cloak sweeping behind him, as always. The elderly man didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a choice. He was numb, half with fear of the great man who had just entered his home and gave him orders which could affect his child’s life, and half with excitement at the prospect of his son being one of the few chosen by Salazar Slytherin to go to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and Wizardry.

This would make for an interesting discussion at his next stop at the Leaky Cauldron…

As Salazar re-appeared at his house, he set about packing away his belongings for his own imminent move to Hogwarts. Five of the six he had chosen were informed:

Steven Bulstrode
Amanda Zabini
Richard Pettigrew
Michelle Flint
Duncan Riddle

Now, there was only one left; Malfoy, Draco Malfoy…

[minihagrid]

     Salazar looked up at the massive building in front of him. Even though it was pitch-black, the outline of the house was still visible. He shook his head. The magic used to create this place was so obvious, yet the muggles in the nearby villages didn’t seem to notice a thing. Useless muggles. Pathetic muggles. How Salazar hated them.
     
He rapped on the front door, a large, brass knocker in the form of a snake’s head hung there. It slowly opened, but the creature behind the door was not who he was expecting.
     
It was a house elf, an ugly creature wearing nothing but a cleverly folded tea towel. Its long, protruding ears were folded over his eyes, protecting them from the rain.
     
‘Y-y-y-yes,’ it stammered. ‘H-h-h-how may I help you?’
     
‘Fetch your master for me, and be quick about it!’ he spat. He booted the house elf so hard that it tumbled over. ‘Don’t just sit there, hurry!’ he said.
     
‘O-o-ok sir.’ it scuttled off, looking terrified.
     
Salazar invited himself into the hall of this great house. It was truly magnificent. Only a lord could truly live like this. There were beautiful oil paintings hanging from the walls, glistening glass chandeliers floating in mid-air, several feet above Salazar’s head. There was also a magnificent marble staircase directly in front of him. He noticed in particular a glass tank, full to the brim with water. It also contained a small blue creature with long, thin arms and pointed horns. A Grindylow. Another favourite pastime of Salazar’s was looking for fascinating creatures like this. As he examined it closer, a deep, booming voice came from the shadows behind him.
     
‘What can I do for you, sir?’ it said. ‘I see that you have taken a liking to my latest acquisition.’ The figure emerged from a doorway and Salazar spun round. The speaker had a pale, pointed face and wore an expression of deep disgust, but this soon changed to a smile when he saw who his visitor was.
     
‘Hello again, Darius Malfoy,’ said Salazar who moved towards him and embraced the man as a brother. ‘Its been a while, hasn’t it?’
     
‘Too long, my friend, too long. What brings you to this area? I can’t see this place being of any natural interest to a man such as yourself, Salazar,’
     
‘I am here on business, Darius. But we shall discuss that later. We have a lot to talk about.’
     
So the two of them made there way past the door and through an opening in the wall, which surely hadn’t been there before. They entered another room, this one even more glamorous than the last. Once inside, the door they had just come through closed behind them. It was perfectly camouflaged in the wall.
     
‘Do you like my latest… security device?’ Darius asked, noticing the direction of Salazar’s glance. ‘The pesky ministry have been visiting once too often for my liking. They seem to think that I have been giving the muggles too many glimpses into the world of magic. Nonsense, I said. Why, only last week I held a Quidditch game around the back of the house, and nobody noticed a thing. Well, the ones who did won’t be telling!’

The two wizards shared a hearty laugh and sat down on two luxurious, black chairs.
     
‘Made from the finest Dragon skin. Hebrideans actually. It was a nightmare getting these unnoticed but I have my methods.’
     
‘I see you’re doing well for yourself…’ Salazar’s gazes around the room stopped suddenly, as he focused on the single most beautiful items in the room. In the far corner, there was a steel bar cage with a glistening sparkle behind it. Salazar got up, and moved over to the attraction. Tethered behind the bars was a pure white beast, with a beautiful long silver horn and a mane of the finest silver hair. It was a unicorn. It neighed softly as it saw the visitor and turned away.
     
‘That is my favourite possession I have. It is probably worth more than this whole house with all the furnishings.’
     
‘How did you get one of these? How can you keep it here? This is amazing!’
     
‘That is not what is important right now. You came here for a business deal, right? Well, I’m a busy man, let’s get on with it, shall we?’
     
‘Of course, Darius,’ he didn’t want to look away from this beautiful sight. He finally edged away and followed Darius.
     

[minihagrid]

‘Wine?’ Darius asked. Salazar nodded so the wizard clicked his fingers and almost immediately, a house elf sprung up beside him. ‘A bottle of our finest from the cellars, and two glasses. NOW!’ the small creature skulked off to fetch it.
     
‘Now then, Mr Malfoy,’ Slytherin began. ‘What I have to say is secret for now, so it must remain that way. I have come tonight to offer your son a place in the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world.
     
‘Durmstrang?’ said Darius, hopefully.
     
‘No,’ said Slytherin, a stung look on his face. ‘Please allow me to finish. I mean Hogwarts, here in Britain. I cannot reveal the exact location though. I’m sure you’ll understand that. Your son will become one of the finest educated young wizards in the world.’
     
‘I see,’ said Darius. ‘But I still have questions. For example, who will teach him this?’
     
Salazar didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Darius could read it in his eyes.
     
‘Well, in that case, consider it a done deal. I will need information on the deal though, I assume that you have prepared that much?’
     
‘I have. I shall send it soon by owl. I must bid farewell now. I have to return to Hogwarts to prepare. Until next time, my friend!’
     
And with a snap, he disappeared.

Then the house elf returned ‘your wine, Sir’s…’ It suddenly noticed that the guest was no longer there. He hurried of before his master noticed his late return as he knew what would happen if he did…

[dianella]

Have I inspired you, minih, with the resurrection of old, unfinished stories??  I hope so.  This one is so good, EVERYONE on this board should be REQUIRED to read it!! ;D

[minihagrid]

     
CHAPTER 2: Salazar Slytherin
     It was the final day in august. The Hogwarts grounds were looking splendid, although the lack of activity around made the founders of Hogwarts uncomfortable. It was six months since the invitations and letters had been sent to the students who would be attending Hogwarts next year. The first ones would be arriving tomorrow.  Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw were taking a well-earned break by the glistening lake, discussing their hopes for the school’s future.
     
The lack of activity was a blessing for Salazar though. He was able to continue his studies in his new office without disturbance. He sat there for hours, poring over books, never ceasing in his search for his ambition to become reality. He never told anyone his dream, his goal, as they would dismiss him and mock him without consideration. The Slytherin master, for that was what his students were to be called, was a keen alchemist.
     
He hadn’t always been though; his initial interest was studying and searching for new species of fascinating magical beasts. He himself had discovered the species of snake known as the Runespoor. He glanced at his pet, snoozing in the corner. Its three heads all had different duties, as he found out through his studies. He had yet to discover what they were though. It was his suspicion that two of the heads didn’t get on with the right one. But the serpent itself refused to say anything about its own activities.
     
Salazar had taken a pause from travelling the globe though, in order to found this school. Whilst he was away from his creatures, he decided to learn a new trade. Alchemy. It is long considered to be the hardest of all areas of magic. The art of turning lead into gold.
     
But that was kid’s stuff, to Salazar. He was interested in moving a step higher. He concerned himself with the making of the rarest substance in the world. The philosopher’s stone. A stone that has the power to turn any metal into gold. Many have tried to create one and failed. But Salazar was extremely close to being the first. Just a few more weeks, he estimated, and he would become the most powerful man in the world.
     
As the day drew on, Salazar became more and more frustrated. He just could not remove the last obstacle in his path. There was something missing from his creation. He stared at his colourless philosophers stone.
     
‘Masssssster,’ The Runespoor was awake. ‘Maybe you ssssshould take a ressst? You are looking weary, and tomorrow isss an important day.’
     
‘You are right, friend. I have been trying too hard. Maybe the answer will come to me during a rest.’ He left his office and decided to wander around the castle for a short while, before retiring. He strolled down to the lake, avoiding the dark forest to the east side. Neither he nor the founders had explored it fully yet.
     
The Hogwarts grounds themselves were situated somewhere in the north of the country. It was quite chilly. Salazar decided that he should return to his room in the dungeons. He had chosen it specially, as it was far enough away from the other founders so he could be alone. It was where all the Slytherin students would be staying as well. He reached the area where the entrance was situated. He faced a stonewall. ‘Pure blood’ he muttered. A door swung open, similar to the concealed entrance at the Malfoy Mansion.
     
Inside the entrance, Salazar gazed around. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for his students. It was a dark room, long and thin in appearance. Several greenish lights were beaming down from above. It was his new home. He decided to have an early night, so retired to his room, deep in the corner o the common room.
     
Tomorrow, he thought, will be the beginning of a legend…  
     

     

[minihagrid]

     Salazar dreamed, that night. He was walking alongside the forest situated in the castle grounds, his runespoor alongside him. Along the way, he met with a small group of teenage children. They were playing with something. He edged closer, around the trees, and paused behind the thickest tree in the nearby area. He looked up at the star filled sky, and in particular the bright crescent moon. He then glanced down at his runespoor, his best friend, his only friend. But, he wasn’t there. He decided to approach the children. Now that he was closer, he could hear what they were saying. Actually, he could here what they were chanting:
     
‘Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood…’ They were repeating the word over and over again. The very sound filled Salazar with hatred and anger. He charged at the children, but as he reached them, they vanished. He could now see what they were playing with though. A runespoor. His runespoor. Staining the ground with blood, one of its three heads, its right head, severed and battered to a pulp. Lifeless. His best friend, his only friend.
     
He heard a sound behind him. He turned, and saw the powerful figure of Godric Gryffindor approaching him, his magnificent sword clutched in his hand. The red rubies at the hilt were reflecting the light from the moon. His red cloak was trailing behind him in the wind. He reached Salazar and saw the dead runespoor. He laughed. A deep, hearty laugh. He slowly lifted his sword, and pointed it downwards, towards the lifeless reptile. With a mighty weight behind it, he sliced straight through the Runespoor and into the ground. A hole appeared at the impact spot. It grew larger, and larger, and larger, until it consumed Salazar and he fell down through the chasm.
     
He landed with a thump on a stone cold floor. Coughing and dusting himself off, he rose. His eyes travelled round the room until they stopped, dead in their tracks. Before him was an almighty statue of none other than himself. His own, stone-grey face, his beard, his hard-set eyes. A voice spoke to him:
     
‘Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four’
     
The statue moved. From behind it something stirred…
     
     Salazar woke with a start. It was a dream. He thought he was safe. But his runespoor. He clicked his fingers and the lamps flickered with fire. He hurried up and over to the corner where his serpent usually slept. Only, it wasn’t asleep. It was stained with blood, one of its heads battered to a pulp. The right one. It lay lifeless in the tank, his best friend, his only friend…

     

[minihagrid]

     The next morning, Salazar awoke. It took him a while to remember the details of last night. It all came rushing back to him. The mudbloods. Gryffindor. The chamber. The statue. The voice. His runespoor. He got up and walked over to his pet’s tank in the corner. The lamp on the wall above it was still flaming, though it had been left on all night. He quickly extinguished it. A trail of ash led down the wall.

The blood was still there, glowing orange. The runespoor head was still severed. Just like in the dream, Salazar thought. Then that means, Godric, the mudbloods, must have…. No, he was being stupid. His room in the dungeons was sealed with magic. No one but him knew the password to the Slytherin room.
     
Holding back sobs, Salazar lifted his poor creature from the tank. He had best find out what had happened before judging people. He carried the head and body towards his office, just near the stone entrance to the room. He carefully laid down the Runespoor, still treating it gently despite its death.
     
It didn’t take him long. Just at the part of the neck where the head was severed, Salazar noticed two puncture marks. From two fangs. He checked the snakes remaining heads. One of them was covered in blood, its jaw dyed red. The serpent had attacked itself, killed itself.
     
But still, Salazar needed someone to blame. His hatred for the mudbloods grew. They had killed his runespoor, how dare they. And how dare they infest his dream, cause him pain in any way.

He decided that his runespoor deserved a good burial.
     
     Salazar carried a brown sack around the edge of the forest. He wanted to stay out of the sight of the school, and in particular, Godric Gryffindor. His ‘dream’ had made him even more distrusting of the wizard. He found a spot of the ground where the earth was softer so digging would not be a problem.
     
He dug in his shovel and flung the earth over his left shoulder. Grief overtook him now, and with every scrape against the earth, his digging became more powerful. Indeed, he did not stop for a while. When he finally came to his senses, he looked around him. The hole he was standing in was now at least eight feet deep.
     
Then he heard it. The same voices chanting the same word, over and over:
     
‘Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood…’
     
He quickly whipped his head around the nearby area. Nothing there. Then he felt it. The ground beneath his feet shook. He desperately reached up, trying to pull himself out of the hole he had dug, but the whole area collapsed downwards.
     
He landed with a thump on a stone cold floor. Coughing and dusting himself off, he rose. His eyes travelled around the room. He recognized it instantly.
     
‘The dream room…’ he muttered. But there was no statue of him. There was no hissing voice. No living thing stirred. The dim light above him allowed him to locate his dropped wand and levitate himself back up and away from the room. He didn’t know what this meant, but he knew one thing. He had to keep this a secret from Godric and the others. He uttered a few well-chosen words, and the nearby vegetation grew out suddenly and covered the gaping whole.
     
Salazar still had more work to do, preparing for the new students. He turned on his heel and headed back up to the castle…
     

[minihagrid]

     Salazar had already decided the areas of magic that he would teach his students. The dark arts and potions, his strongest areas. He had already overheard what the other teachers were going to teach. Godric was going to teach transformations and warfare, being the warrior that he was. Helga was to teach about the lives of magical creatures and herbology, whilst the shrewd Rowena was to teach arithmancy and the basic spells and charms.

     As Salazar approached the castle, he heard an argument between two wizards. They were just inside the castle entrance, in the large hall. Their voices were echoing and surely the other founders could hear this. He chanced a look around the corner. It was Godric Gryffindor, and an elderly man who he did not recognise.
     
     ‘You owe me and my family Godric! We will not let you forget that! If it wasn’t for us, you would be out in the cold! Dragon food for all I care!’
     
     ‘I owe you nothing!’ Godric roared. ‘You cannot continue to blackmail me, I am not afraid of you any more!’

     The man was taken aback by this. His expression changed, from one of expectancy to one of fury. ‘You stupid, pathetic mudblood!’ he screamed. He turned in order to leave, but Godric grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him back around.

     ‘What did you call me?!’ Godric bellowed.

     ‘I called you a mudblood! Why, what’s wrong with that? You are one after all. Oh I forgot, you don’t want people to know that, do you?’

     Godric pulled out his sword, and swung it at the strange wizard. He stepped back just in time, for the gleaming monster would have removed his head. While Godric was off balance, his adversary vanished behind his cloak. Gryffindor sank to his knees, leaning on his sword. He had lost out. Again.

     At that very moment, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw both stepped out from the Great hall to confront the fallen wizard, both wearing looks of amazement at the news they had just heard.

     ‘Godric, is what that man just said true? Are you a… mudblood?’ Helga questioned.
     
‘No,’ he growled. ‘And no one will hear about this, ok!’ It was not a request. It was an order.

‘But, why didn’t you tell us? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we could have kept it a secret.’

‘Just leave me,’ said Godric ‘and prepare for the arrival of the new students. This…lie doesn’t leave this circle.’

The other two founders walked away, and split up at the staircase, Rowena heading up and Helga down.

When they were gone, Salazar stepped out from behind the stone pillar, and moved towards Gryffindor, who was still on the floor. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said, a faint trace of a smile on his face. ‘The greatest wizard in the world is nothing more than a common mudblood? How can that be? At least I now know why you like them! And why you’re willing to allow that filth into our school!’

With lightning fast reflexes, Godric jumped to his feet, pinning Salazar against the wall, his massive sword pointed at his neck. Salazar could feel the point moving closer and closer to his windpipe.

‘So, are you going to kill me? That would be the easy way out, wouldn’t it, Godric? Killing an unarmed man.’

‘You have your wand. That counts as armed.’

‘But I haven’t reached for it, have I?’

‘Than I will give you five seconds to grasp that opportunity, after that, you lose.’ He released Salazar from the wall, and instantly, the shrewd Slytherin reached his wand and used a summoning charm to steal Gryffindor’s sword. He caught it in his left hand as it whistled threw the air.

‘Looks like the tables have turned, doesn’t it Godric? Not so brave now, are you?’ Salazar dropped the sword to the ground, out of reach of Godric, and turned towards the corridor that led to his common room, leaving an angry wizard glaring at his back.

He said the password at the door, and entered his room. He picked out his special robes and hurriedly put them on. They were made of  beautiful silver chain mail, and featured a snake emblem carved up the middle, decorated green. He picked up his phoenix feather wand, and sheathed his handsome black sword, which was emblazed with green emeralds.

After preparing, Salazar made his way out of the common room, back up the stairs and into the great hall, in order to wait for the first ones…