When Godric Met Salazar...
Era: Pre-Founders Era
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Characters: Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffinor
By seventeen, Salazar Slytherin was hiding in the expanses of the fens. He shrank away from the Muggles who had thrown him out before his thirteenth birthday. He moved swiftly across the landscape, trusting his magic to keep him safe. Suddenly he tripped over a log and fell face-first into the mud. The log groaned and Salazar whipped his head around only to see an injured boy, a few years older than him. The boy opened his eyes and grinned weakly.
“Dydh da.”
Salazar stared, uncomprehendingly. It wasn’t any language he knew - it sounded Celtic though. Welsh? Cornish? The boy grimaced and tried again.
“Me - my name,” he paused and screwed up his face. “Is Godric. Godric Gryffindor.”
Salazar nodded, gestured and said, in a softer tone. “Salazar Slytherin.” The boy had spoken with a definite West Country burr. Salazar had heard tales of the Cornish - wild tales of magic and kings, of Merlin and Arthur. The Cornish were a proud people, strong, and with their own language. No wonder the boy was having a hard time speaking English. Sighing softly to himself Salazar made to help him up. It wouldn’t hurt to give the boy a hand, after all…
Rating: PG
Length: 200 words
Characters: Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffinor
By seventeen, Salazar Slytherin was hiding in the expanses of the fens. He shrank away from the Muggles who had thrown him out before his thirteenth birthday. He moved swiftly across the landscape, trusting his magic to keep him safe. Suddenly he tripped over a log and fell face-first into the mud. The log groaned and Salazar whipped his head around only to see an injured boy, a few years older than him. The boy opened his eyes and grinned weakly.
“Dydh da.”
Salazar stared, uncomprehendingly. It wasn’t any language he knew - it sounded Celtic though. Welsh? Cornish? The boy grimaced and tried again.
“Me - my name,” he paused and screwed up his face. “Is Godric. Godric Gryffindor.”
Salazar nodded, gestured and said, in a softer tone. “Salazar Slytherin.” The boy had spoken with a definite West Country burr. Salazar had heard tales of the Cornish - wild tales of magic and kings, of Merlin and Arthur. The Cornish were a proud people, strong, and with their own language. No wonder the boy was having a hard time speaking English. Sighing softly to himself Salazar made to help him up. It wouldn’t hurt to give the boy a hand, after all…