(no subject)
Title: Between Here and Now and Forever, Chapter 8
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: The Founders, various OCs
Rating: PG
Summary: Godric, Rowena, and Jasper get lost. Helga and Basil get in trouble. Salazar probably gets a laugh.
Author's Note: thinkatory is my beta.
Chapter 1
Master Founders post
Chapter 7
And here they were, lost in the forest again, although this time the only member of the original party was Rowena. She was very pleased with herself, and glad they'd been lost the first time, for it had provided inspiration for this time around. They would, alas, have to spend the night in Gryffindor's Hollow once they got there, for it would be so dark they couldn't possibly go back until morning.
"Mum? It's getting dark," said Helena. "I don't like these woods."
"Don't worry, we'll be out of them soon," said Rowena. "Perhaps your Arithmancy teacher can help, seeing as he's been kind enough to get us lost in the first place," she said, giving Jasper a carefully adjusted glare. She'd altered his calculations slightly when he'd been staring in astonishment at Devlin's many siblings. The purpose of their journey had been to take the students back home, but Rowena had decided to hijack the trip for her own devices.
She had managed to get Jasper involved in an argument about group Auto-Apportation so that he would give it a try and, with some help from Rowena, get the wrong coordinates, landing a considerable distance away from their target destination. Rowena had convinced Godric (who was now looking nervously around at the trees) to suggest Gryffindor's Hollow, and, of course, they'd landed in the woods.
"I don't think we're in the right place," said Godric hesitantly.
"Of course we're not in the right place," snapped Jasper. "We're lost!"
"I'm hungry," whined Helena. "Mum, when are we going to have dinner?"
"I don't know," said Rowena through clenched teeth. "Helena, go and bother Professor Gryffindor. Oh, look, I think there are less trees up ahead. Can you see anything, Godric?"
o
"There are less trees up ahead," said Godric uncomfortably. "I don't like this, though... it's too dark."
"Yes, I imagine we shall have to spend the night in the village," said Rowena. "I certainly don't trust this Auto-Apportation spell for groups -- we might land farther off-grounds than is safe -- and I'd rather not fly at night if I can help it."
At this, Godric looked even less happy, but stayed silent. Soon they came to the place where the trees stopped altogether, and found themselves standing in quite the wrong village. No one was outside. Rowena blinked; she'd been wrong. She hadn't been wrong very often before, and she didn't like the feeling at all. "Where are we?" she asked, expecting this to be a useless question.
"It's a Muggle village," said Godric, who was now looking positively terrified. "The one I came from. As I recall, the residents are less than hospitable when it comes to... well, me."
"Yes, well, do you have to ask why?" asked Rowena.
"A real Muggle village?" asked Helena. "Mum, can we go and look at the Muggles? I've never seen a Muggle before!"
"Don't be silly, Helena, you just saw some at Devlin's, and all of the servants at... at home are Muggles," said Rowena. She'd almost said "At your father's castle," but for some reason she didn't want to mention him to her daughter.
"But you never let me speak to them except to ask them for things," Helena whined.
"Godric, should we just take our chances in the forest or is it safe here?" Rowena asked, ignoring Helena in her determination to blame anything that went wrong on Godric.
Godric blinked. "What do you mean, is it safe here? What do you think they have?"
"Don't Muggles like sharp things?" asked Jasper.
"What, you think a little village like this has an army of its own?" asked Godric incredulously. "The worst they could do is stone us," he said, though he grimaced as he said it. "And since we've all got wands... no, I think it's safe. I suppose we could spend the night." He looked distinctly unhappy about it, though. "I hope my brother's not dead."
Godric stopped at one of the hovels and knocked carefully on the wooden door.
"Godric, what -"
"This is where I used to live," he explained, pushing the door open and ushering them in. Then he ducked in himself.
Rowena looked around. Everywhere was dark and dingy; the floor was just dirt. She felt unpleasantly cramped just from looking at the place. Even so, she felt that this was not right, that she was trespassing on someone else's land; a feeling she never got even when barging right into Godric's classroom and refusing to leave. Probably because it's so dirty, she thought.
"Geoffrey?" a woman's voice asked, and Rowena suddenly realized they were not alone in the room. The owner of the voice, dressed in brown so close to the color of everything else that it could have been deliberate camouflage, turned around and dropped a plate on the floor. "GEOFFREY!" she called, panicked. Then she grabbed the plate she'd dropped and flung it at Godric, who ducked.
"I'm so sorry," began Godric, "I --"
"Godric? You got away! Where have you been all this time?" A man stood in the doorway, dressed in similar fashion, or lack thereof. Rowena noticed that he looked very like Godric; his hair was lighter, but his nose was the same shape. "And what are they feeding you?" he asked.
"Do you know these people?" the Muggle woman demanded of him.
The man who smiled tentatively. Rowena thought the expression was exactly like Godric's just before he said something that he'd rather he didn't have to tell anyone about. "Winifred, this is my little brother Godric."
"Little?" demanded Winifred. "That... that thing is going to leave this house at once! And who are these... people?" she asked, looking distastefully at Rowena and Jasper. Helena was hiding behind Rowena.
"I'm sorry," said Godric, cringing. He looked as though he was trying to make himself look smaller, but it didn't seem to be working very well. "I'll just... erm... sorry, I'll go." He looked helplessly at the doorway, which Rowena was standing in. "I'll go," he repeated nervously, glaring at Rowena.
"No, you most certainly will not," said Rowena crossly. "Muggle!" she shouted at Geoffrey. "Come here, you."
"Rowena, his name is Geoffrey," said Godric through clenched teeth.
"Yes, but who are you?" asked Geoffrey, looking at her. "Godric, who's she, and why's she ordering everyone around?"
"It's her hobby," said Godric wearily. "This is... this is Rowena."
"If I may make a suggestion?" asked Jasper, who had been silent until now.
"You may not," said Rowena. "After all, you're the one who got us into this mess." Privately, she was mostly cranky that they had gone the wrong way.
"Mum, I'm hungry," whined Helena. At the sound of her voice, Winifred looked at Rowena with something like jealousy.
"You're the... the wizard, aren't you?" the Muggle woman asked Godric distastefully.
"In the loosest sense of the word," said Rowena. "He's not very good at it. Then again, neither is this one," she added, nodding at Jasper, "and he's had loads of opportunities to learn it."
"I'm not bad!" said Jasper. "At least I can repair broken glass," he added snidely.
Godric looked grumpily down at him and muttered something none of them could hear, but he had the common decency to look embarrassed.
"I'm hungry," repeated Helena.
Winifred stared at Helena for a moment, frowning. Then she looked at a pot that was in the fire. "Geoffrey... d'you think we can spare some stew? What's your name, girl?"
Helena looked at Rowena, who nodded. "I'm Helena," she said quietly. "Are you a Muggle? I've heard about them. You haven't got red hair like Devlin's family. How do you manage without magic? Do you really only have one god? Isn't it safer to have at least two around in case something happens to one of them? And how can you have stories about it if it can't argue with other gods, or does it just argue with mortals instead? Does it have children? What does it eat? Where did it --"
"That's enough, Helena," said Rowena quickly, though her daughter's string of questions had made the Muggle woman grin a bit. "It's been... interesting meeting Godric's... family," she said, "but we've got to find somewhere to stay the night. That's more important at the moment than food."
"But I'm hungry!" shouted Helena, stamping her feet.
"Do they look like they've got food enough to feed themselves?" asked Rowena. "Helena, you're being a brat. Now come along; we don't exactly have a lot of time, it's getting dark."
"You can stay here," said Winifred quickly. "I'll see what we can do about food. The butcher owes Geoffrey some favors. Not that it'd hurt if you came along to be convincing," she said, shooting a dirty look at Godric.
"I'll see what I can do," said Godric. "I'm very sorry about the --"
Rowena kicked him in the shin. "Don't simper," she hissed. "I cannot believe you sometimes. Now go along with your brother and try to look menacing," she snapped.
"Can I go too?" asked Helena.
"You most certainly may not," Rowena said.
Helena pouted.
* * *
"Where are they?"
Helga looked up from her scroll. "What?"
"Where are they?" Basil repeated.
"Who are you -- oh. Don't worry about it," she said. "Rowena was plotting. She probably took them for a side trip."
"Plotting?"
"It's a bad habit of hers," she said. "I already warned Lord Slytherin that he would have more to worry about if they came back in time than if they didn't show up for a while."
"Oh. Look, you should come inside -- you'll strain your eyes, you know. It's getting dark."
"They're my eyes. I have every right to strain them."
"What are you working on, anyway?" he asked. "That looks suspiciously like part of the plans for the Willows."
She grinned at him. "That's exactly what it is."
"But -- you finished those. They're there." Basil gestured vaguely at the surrounding circle of trees.
"Yes, but -- oh, I don't know," she said. "I mean, that Muggle army got through them just by going across the lake, didn't they? And there were so many little extra features I meant to put into them that I never got around to."
He was now very amused. "You do remember when you got this project, don't you, Helga?"
"Hmm?"
"Because I do. I remember you said something along the lines of 'Is he mad? How am I supposed to do what he's asking for?'"
"I asked if he'd lost his mind," corrected Helga.
He shrugged. "Same thing. You do remember the original order was for shrubs, don't you?"
"I know," she said, nodding, "but I really think that shrubs lack that certain... that certain..."
"...giant monster tree-ness?" offered Basil.
"Yes, that's it exactly!" said Helga. "Giant monster tree-ness. It was really what this project needed."
"Oh, I quite agree," said Basil, laughing. "But what are you doing to them now?"
"Improving them," said Helga.
"Can't you do that later?" he asked.
She cocked her head. "Why do you want me to come inside so badly?" she asked, an amused grin on her face. "I realize the students are all gone now, but it's not as though we haven't got all of tonight..."
"No, it's not," he said, returning her grin. "But that's not what I was talking about. Business must come before pleasure," he said airily.
She gave him a skeptical look. "So you're going to drag me away from my terribly important giant monster tree work to do something dull?" she asked.
"No, no, no," he said. "Not dull. Never dull. What I was thinking was that now Slytherin's son is safely out of the way, I think it's the best time to go and poke about in his study."
Helga blinked. "You want to sneak around in somebody else's room like a student, and you're asking me to come with you because... you're afraid of the dark?"
"Of course not," he said. "I'd just feel silly being caught alone."
"So you'd rather be caught with me?"
He nodded. "Well, yes. That's the general idea."
"Should I be honored?"
Mock-solemnly, he announced, "I would much rather be caught sneaking around in someone else's study with you than with anyone else."
"Well, I should hope so," she said. Then, feeling very silly herself, Helga asked, "Are we going to look at the miniature castle?"
"Of course," he said. "In fact, I think that's where he's controlling the castle wards from," he said. "It's a very secure model -- the defenses can't be breached except from the inside, unlike the traditional lock-and-door temporary wards, meant to be opened from outside."
She stared at him. "Admit it. You just want to play with all the little furniture."
"There's little furniture?" he asked indignantly. "I wasn't told about that. Anyway, are you coming with me?"
She nodded. "I think I've married a lunatic," she said, after a moment.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Basil informed her.
* * *
John, the butcher, peered out into the dying light. "And what do you want?" he demanded of Geoffrey, who was usually John's idea of a good neighbor -- well, in that he stayed out of the way and generally tried not to notice when things went missing. He peered a bit further, and saw a little girl who looked like she'd be more at home in some big city or a fairy story than here, in real life.
"You been stealing? Because I could swear she's not yours. In fact, yours is dead. What was her name again?"
Geoffrey glared. It was evident that John had said the wrong thing. He didn't much care; it wasn't as though Geoffrey could do anything to him for saying it anyway. Any argument would doubtless be resolved in John's favor, as none of his family had been known to dabble in magic.
The little girl looked back into the shadows. When had it become so dark outside? "I don't think I like him," she observed solemnly, to no one in particular.
"No, I never did either," said another voice -- from the shadows. Or were they shadows? John stared as he realized what had been making it so dark: the light was being blocked by something that was roughly the shape of a man, but huge. It took him a few moments to make out the features, and a few more to recognize them. It only took him one moment to realize that he was in quite a lot of trouble.
"G-Godric? Is that you? Where'd you run off to, anyway?" he asked. He'd always had a very bad memory as a boy -- John desperately hoped that he hadn't outgrown it.
"The deepest pits of Hell," intoned the apparition, "therein to learn of things which must not be spoken of to mere mortals."
"Really?" piped the little girl. "Can I go?"
"Ask your mother," it snapped.
"The -- the deepest pits of Hell, eh?" said John. He was well and truly doomed. He should never have picked on Godric -- but it'd been so tempting. After all, the boy had always been getting into trouble on his own, so what was wrong with helping him out a bit? But, he decided, there had always been something unnatural about the boy. Unnatural and mean-spirited. The time John and all his brothers had been turned into toads came to mind. And then there had been that sudden growth spurt just before he'd disappeared.... Well, he'd better try to act unfazed. Otherwise, he'd be more doomed. "What's the weather like there?"
"Very pleasant, actually," said Godric. "It never rains. And you don't have to worry about it getting dark."
"Ooh, now I really want to go!"
"Helena, if you aren't quiet, I might just assign some extra work for you over the summer," Godric told the girl.
"Extra work?" whispered John to Geoffrey, who was beginning to look comparatively friendly.
"She's a demon. Enslaved until autumn," Geoffrey informed him. "Keeps trying to get him to say the spell to release her."
"Ah." John nodded slowly. "What was it you came for, again?"
* * *
"Look! The tapestries in the Great Hall are all there!" Basil poked at the tiny wall hangings with the tip of his wand.
"And there's us!" Helga pointed at the Arithmancy tower skylight, where two figures were just visible leaning over a little table, upon which sat another miniature castle.
"I wonder what happens if you move anything," said Basil, squinting through the other windows.
"I don't know. We really should be careful," said Helga. "We don't want him to notice anyone's been here..."
"Oh, he doesn't notice anything unless it's got a square root. We're perfectly sa -- ah... er, oops?" Basil had accidentally pulled away a little bit of the "stone" on one part of the tower. He blinked at the pebble in his hand.
"Well, I think he'd -- Basil, look!" Helga stared out the window as a large rock floated past it.
"What?" He squinted out the window. Experimentally, he began moving the hand up and down. The rock mimicked his movements.
"Excuse me," said a voice from the stairway; startled, Basil dropped the little piece of miniature castle stone he was holding, and something heavy clattered against the side of the wall.
He turned around, only to see Lord Slytherin standing on the spiral stairs. "I was wondering," said Slytherin, "if you two were going to be having dinner tonight."
"Yes, of course," said Helga, grabbing her speechless husband's arm and dragging him towards the stairs. "We were looking for something."
"A book," said Basil.
Salazar smiled. "Of course. I hope you found it?" he asked, not unkindly.
"Ah ...no," said Helga. "I think Rowena must have it," she lied. "It has a brown cover," she added vaguely. "If you see it."
"Then I trust you will not be returning here again?" he asked, in the same tone.
Basil's face seemed to betray reluctance. Jabbing him hard in the ribs, Helga said, "No, I don't think so."
"Very good," he said. He turned and began to descend the stairs.
Once Salazar was out of earshot, Helga gave Basil something of a Look.
"What?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing," she sighed.
* * *
"I'm a demon," announced Helena proudly when they returned.
"Do you really think she should be exposed to such dishonesty?" Jasper stared at Rowena, obviously expecting an answer.
"I don't see why not. It's in her blood," Rowena said, glaring at him. "Besides, the last time I checked, you weren't her mother. How are you a demon, Helena?" she asked, turning her attention to her daughter.
"I don't know," said Helena. "He said it," she added, pointing at Geoffrey. "Where's Hell?"
"Underground," said Rowena. "It's near Hades, but warmer. You brought food? Excellent -- I'm impressed, Godric."
"It wasn't anything, really," said Godric, shrugging.
"Of course not," Rowena cheerfully agreed. "If it had been, you wouldn't have been able to do it. Now get out from underfoot -- unless you can Transfigure this into something better."
* * *
"I was wondering," began Lord Slytherin as they sat down to dinner, "what binds you and Lady Rowena and... ah..."
"Godric," prompted Helga.
Lord Slytherin frowned. "Does he not have a title?"
"I think the students call him 'Professor Gryffindor,'" offered Basil.
Helga laughed. "He always looks absolutely shocked when they do it, too. To be honest, my lord, I don't think he's quite comfortable with being anything but Godric. We grew up together. Mum tutored Rowena and Godric in magic."
"I see," said Slytherin. "Well, why was your mother tutoring Lady Rowena again? I assume that it wasn't simply out of the goodness of her heart."
"And what's your motive for teaching here?" Basil asked pointedly.
"I meant no offense," said Lord Slytherin. "Perhaps I should be more careful with my questions."
"Perhaps you shouldn't insult my family," said Helga quietly, although she knew perfectly well that her mother had always been the first to know about anything dangerous. News of impending plague, battles, and skirmishes -- not to mention the odd political death -- had always reached Helga's mother quickly, often before the events themselves had even happened. It had to be Lady Aeaeae's doing.
"I wasn't insulting," said Lord Slytherin. "Merely commenting. I am not in the practice of speaking to fools, and only fools credit kindness as the single greatest motive of any person, no matter how charitable. But I suppose it's not important. I can venture several guesses as to why the Council Chief's daughter would hardly lack for teachers. But may I ask why she was tutoring your friend Godric? After all, from what I understand, his family is anything but important."
Helga opened her mouth before she realized that she didn't know. "She... well... I suppose... he needed it," she decided. Had Lady Aeaeae been involved? It wouldn't have made much sense, really, but Lady Aeaeae was already in control of everything else....
Lord Slytherin nodded. "And he still needs it, does he not?"
"Very few people can claim to be any good at Transfiguration," said Helga. "And only one person can claim to be the best Transfigurator in the world."
"And your friend Godric does?"
"Perhaps he doesn't," said Helga. "But Rowena thinks he is. Even if she'd never say so aloud."
"And are you schooled in the art of Divination?" Lord Salazar asked with a trace of amusement.
Basil, whom she had seen gritting his teeth throughout the conversation, opened his mouth to speak. Helga shot him a warning glance. "No," she said, "but I know Rowena, and I know how she thinks."
"And how does she think?"
She considered her answer. "Very quickly," she said simply. "And if you'll excuse me, Lord Slytherin, I believe this conversation is over." She stood, and started out of the room, bowing her head briefly at him. Basil followed her, watching Lord Slytherin uncertainly.
"You know," said Basil, "before he seemed so nice..."
"I think that's his job," Helga grumbled. "They're all the same, aren't they? Councilors, I mean. I'm glad I'm not one of them."
Basil nodded agreement. "Although I don't see why he's interested in Godric; it's not as though he's done anything wrong. Seems decent enough to me. Well, there was that thing at the feast."
Helga nodded. "And Rowena, of course; he's obviously after something from her... what I want to know is what he wants from us..."
He blinked. "What?"
"Don't you think he'd have thrown us out already if we weren't important?" Helga asked. "What with you picking fights with his son. I don't trust him," she continued. "Maybe Lady Aeaeae's dishonest, but at least she's as much as said that she has no use for either of us."
Basil appeared to be considering this. "Yet," he added softly.
"Yet," she agreed. "Hmph."
Chapter 9
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: The Founders, various OCs
Rating: PG
Summary: Godric, Rowena, and Jasper get lost. Helga and Basil get in trouble. Salazar probably gets a laugh.
Author's Note: thinkatory is my beta.
Chapter 1
Master Founders post
Chapter 7
And here they were, lost in the forest again, although this time the only member of the original party was Rowena. She was very pleased with herself, and glad they'd been lost the first time, for it had provided inspiration for this time around. They would, alas, have to spend the night in Gryffindor's Hollow once they got there, for it would be so dark they couldn't possibly go back until morning.
"Mum? It's getting dark," said Helena. "I don't like these woods."
"Don't worry, we'll be out of them soon," said Rowena. "Perhaps your Arithmancy teacher can help, seeing as he's been kind enough to get us lost in the first place," she said, giving Jasper a carefully adjusted glare. She'd altered his calculations slightly when he'd been staring in astonishment at Devlin's many siblings. The purpose of their journey had been to take the students back home, but Rowena had decided to hijack the trip for her own devices.
She had managed to get Jasper involved in an argument about group Auto-Apportation so that he would give it a try and, with some help from Rowena, get the wrong coordinates, landing a considerable distance away from their target destination. Rowena had convinced Godric (who was now looking nervously around at the trees) to suggest Gryffindor's Hollow, and, of course, they'd landed in the woods.
"I don't think we're in the right place," said Godric hesitantly.
"Of course we're not in the right place," snapped Jasper. "We're lost!"
"I'm hungry," whined Helena. "Mum, when are we going to have dinner?"
"I don't know," said Rowena through clenched teeth. "Helena, go and bother Professor Gryffindor. Oh, look, I think there are less trees up ahead. Can you see anything, Godric?"
o
"There are less trees up ahead," said Godric uncomfortably. "I don't like this, though... it's too dark."
"Yes, I imagine we shall have to spend the night in the village," said Rowena. "I certainly don't trust this Auto-Apportation spell for groups -- we might land farther off-grounds than is safe -- and I'd rather not fly at night if I can help it."
At this, Godric looked even less happy, but stayed silent. Soon they came to the place where the trees stopped altogether, and found themselves standing in quite the wrong village. No one was outside. Rowena blinked; she'd been wrong. She hadn't been wrong very often before, and she didn't like the feeling at all. "Where are we?" she asked, expecting this to be a useless question.
"It's a Muggle village," said Godric, who was now looking positively terrified. "The one I came from. As I recall, the residents are less than hospitable when it comes to... well, me."
"Yes, well, do you have to ask why?" asked Rowena.
"A real Muggle village?" asked Helena. "Mum, can we go and look at the Muggles? I've never seen a Muggle before!"
"Don't be silly, Helena, you just saw some at Devlin's, and all of the servants at... at home are Muggles," said Rowena. She'd almost said "At your father's castle," but for some reason she didn't want to mention him to her daughter.
"But you never let me speak to them except to ask them for things," Helena whined.
"Godric, should we just take our chances in the forest or is it safe here?" Rowena asked, ignoring Helena in her determination to blame anything that went wrong on Godric.
Godric blinked. "What do you mean, is it safe here? What do you think they have?"
"Don't Muggles like sharp things?" asked Jasper.
"What, you think a little village like this has an army of its own?" asked Godric incredulously. "The worst they could do is stone us," he said, though he grimaced as he said it. "And since we've all got wands... no, I think it's safe. I suppose we could spend the night." He looked distinctly unhappy about it, though. "I hope my brother's not dead."
Godric stopped at one of the hovels and knocked carefully on the wooden door.
"Godric, what -"
"This is where I used to live," he explained, pushing the door open and ushering them in. Then he ducked in himself.
Rowena looked around. Everywhere was dark and dingy; the floor was just dirt. She felt unpleasantly cramped just from looking at the place. Even so, she felt that this was not right, that she was trespassing on someone else's land; a feeling she never got even when barging right into Godric's classroom and refusing to leave. Probably because it's so dirty, she thought.
"Geoffrey?" a woman's voice asked, and Rowena suddenly realized they were not alone in the room. The owner of the voice, dressed in brown so close to the color of everything else that it could have been deliberate camouflage, turned around and dropped a plate on the floor. "GEOFFREY!" she called, panicked. Then she grabbed the plate she'd dropped and flung it at Godric, who ducked.
"I'm so sorry," began Godric, "I --"
"Godric? You got away! Where have you been all this time?" A man stood in the doorway, dressed in similar fashion, or lack thereof. Rowena noticed that he looked very like Godric; his hair was lighter, but his nose was the same shape. "And what are they feeding you?" he asked.
"Do you know these people?" the Muggle woman demanded of him.
The man who smiled tentatively. Rowena thought the expression was exactly like Godric's just before he said something that he'd rather he didn't have to tell anyone about. "Winifred, this is my little brother Godric."
"Little?" demanded Winifred. "That... that thing is going to leave this house at once! And who are these... people?" she asked, looking distastefully at Rowena and Jasper. Helena was hiding behind Rowena.
"I'm sorry," said Godric, cringing. He looked as though he was trying to make himself look smaller, but it didn't seem to be working very well. "I'll just... erm... sorry, I'll go." He looked helplessly at the doorway, which Rowena was standing in. "I'll go," he repeated nervously, glaring at Rowena.
"No, you most certainly will not," said Rowena crossly. "Muggle!" she shouted at Geoffrey. "Come here, you."
"Rowena, his name is Geoffrey," said Godric through clenched teeth.
"Yes, but who are you?" asked Geoffrey, looking at her. "Godric, who's she, and why's she ordering everyone around?"
"It's her hobby," said Godric wearily. "This is... this is Rowena."
"If I may make a suggestion?" asked Jasper, who had been silent until now.
"You may not," said Rowena. "After all, you're the one who got us into this mess." Privately, she was mostly cranky that they had gone the wrong way.
"Mum, I'm hungry," whined Helena. At the sound of her voice, Winifred looked at Rowena with something like jealousy.
"You're the... the wizard, aren't you?" the Muggle woman asked Godric distastefully.
"In the loosest sense of the word," said Rowena. "He's not very good at it. Then again, neither is this one," she added, nodding at Jasper, "and he's had loads of opportunities to learn it."
"I'm not bad!" said Jasper. "At least I can repair broken glass," he added snidely.
Godric looked grumpily down at him and muttered something none of them could hear, but he had the common decency to look embarrassed.
"I'm hungry," repeated Helena.
Winifred stared at Helena for a moment, frowning. Then she looked at a pot that was in the fire. "Geoffrey... d'you think we can spare some stew? What's your name, girl?"
Helena looked at Rowena, who nodded. "I'm Helena," she said quietly. "Are you a Muggle? I've heard about them. You haven't got red hair like Devlin's family. How do you manage without magic? Do you really only have one god? Isn't it safer to have at least two around in case something happens to one of them? And how can you have stories about it if it can't argue with other gods, or does it just argue with mortals instead? Does it have children? What does it eat? Where did it --"
"That's enough, Helena," said Rowena quickly, though her daughter's string of questions had made the Muggle woman grin a bit. "It's been... interesting meeting Godric's... family," she said, "but we've got to find somewhere to stay the night. That's more important at the moment than food."
"But I'm hungry!" shouted Helena, stamping her feet.
"Do they look like they've got food enough to feed themselves?" asked Rowena. "Helena, you're being a brat. Now come along; we don't exactly have a lot of time, it's getting dark."
"You can stay here," said Winifred quickly. "I'll see what we can do about food. The butcher owes Geoffrey some favors. Not that it'd hurt if you came along to be convincing," she said, shooting a dirty look at Godric.
"I'll see what I can do," said Godric. "I'm very sorry about the --"
Rowena kicked him in the shin. "Don't simper," she hissed. "I cannot believe you sometimes. Now go along with your brother and try to look menacing," she snapped.
"Can I go too?" asked Helena.
"You most certainly may not," Rowena said.
Helena pouted.
* * *
"Where are they?"
Helga looked up from her scroll. "What?"
"Where are they?" Basil repeated.
"Who are you -- oh. Don't worry about it," she said. "Rowena was plotting. She probably took them for a side trip."
"Plotting?"
"It's a bad habit of hers," she said. "I already warned Lord Slytherin that he would have more to worry about if they came back in time than if they didn't show up for a while."
"Oh. Look, you should come inside -- you'll strain your eyes, you know. It's getting dark."
"They're my eyes. I have every right to strain them."
"What are you working on, anyway?" he asked. "That looks suspiciously like part of the plans for the Willows."
She grinned at him. "That's exactly what it is."
"But -- you finished those. They're there." Basil gestured vaguely at the surrounding circle of trees.
"Yes, but -- oh, I don't know," she said. "I mean, that Muggle army got through them just by going across the lake, didn't they? And there were so many little extra features I meant to put into them that I never got around to."
He was now very amused. "You do remember when you got this project, don't you, Helga?"
"Hmm?"
"Because I do. I remember you said something along the lines of 'Is he mad? How am I supposed to do what he's asking for?'"
"I asked if he'd lost his mind," corrected Helga.
He shrugged. "Same thing. You do remember the original order was for shrubs, don't you?"
"I know," she said, nodding, "but I really think that shrubs lack that certain... that certain..."
"...giant monster tree-ness?" offered Basil.
"Yes, that's it exactly!" said Helga. "Giant monster tree-ness. It was really what this project needed."
"Oh, I quite agree," said Basil, laughing. "But what are you doing to them now?"
"Improving them," said Helga.
"Can't you do that later?" he asked.
She cocked her head. "Why do you want me to come inside so badly?" she asked, an amused grin on her face. "I realize the students are all gone now, but it's not as though we haven't got all of tonight..."
"No, it's not," he said, returning her grin. "But that's not what I was talking about. Business must come before pleasure," he said airily.
She gave him a skeptical look. "So you're going to drag me away from my terribly important giant monster tree work to do something dull?" she asked.
"No, no, no," he said. "Not dull. Never dull. What I was thinking was that now Slytherin's son is safely out of the way, I think it's the best time to go and poke about in his study."
Helga blinked. "You want to sneak around in somebody else's room like a student, and you're asking me to come with you because... you're afraid of the dark?"
"Of course not," he said. "I'd just feel silly being caught alone."
"So you'd rather be caught with me?"
He nodded. "Well, yes. That's the general idea."
"Should I be honored?"
Mock-solemnly, he announced, "I would much rather be caught sneaking around in someone else's study with you than with anyone else."
"Well, I should hope so," she said. Then, feeling very silly herself, Helga asked, "Are we going to look at the miniature castle?"
"Of course," he said. "In fact, I think that's where he's controlling the castle wards from," he said. "It's a very secure model -- the defenses can't be breached except from the inside, unlike the traditional lock-and-door temporary wards, meant to be opened from outside."
She stared at him. "Admit it. You just want to play with all the little furniture."
"There's little furniture?" he asked indignantly. "I wasn't told about that. Anyway, are you coming with me?"
She nodded. "I think I've married a lunatic," she said, after a moment.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Basil informed her.
* * *
John, the butcher, peered out into the dying light. "And what do you want?" he demanded of Geoffrey, who was usually John's idea of a good neighbor -- well, in that he stayed out of the way and generally tried not to notice when things went missing. He peered a bit further, and saw a little girl who looked like she'd be more at home in some big city or a fairy story than here, in real life.
"You been stealing? Because I could swear she's not yours. In fact, yours is dead. What was her name again?"
Geoffrey glared. It was evident that John had said the wrong thing. He didn't much care; it wasn't as though Geoffrey could do anything to him for saying it anyway. Any argument would doubtless be resolved in John's favor, as none of his family had been known to dabble in magic.
The little girl looked back into the shadows. When had it become so dark outside? "I don't think I like him," she observed solemnly, to no one in particular.
"No, I never did either," said another voice -- from the shadows. Or were they shadows? John stared as he realized what had been making it so dark: the light was being blocked by something that was roughly the shape of a man, but huge. It took him a few moments to make out the features, and a few more to recognize them. It only took him one moment to realize that he was in quite a lot of trouble.
"G-Godric? Is that you? Where'd you run off to, anyway?" he asked. He'd always had a very bad memory as a boy -- John desperately hoped that he hadn't outgrown it.
"The deepest pits of Hell," intoned the apparition, "therein to learn of things which must not be spoken of to mere mortals."
"Really?" piped the little girl. "Can I go?"
"Ask your mother," it snapped.
"The -- the deepest pits of Hell, eh?" said John. He was well and truly doomed. He should never have picked on Godric -- but it'd been so tempting. After all, the boy had always been getting into trouble on his own, so what was wrong with helping him out a bit? But, he decided, there had always been something unnatural about the boy. Unnatural and mean-spirited. The time John and all his brothers had been turned into toads came to mind. And then there had been that sudden growth spurt just before he'd disappeared.... Well, he'd better try to act unfazed. Otherwise, he'd be more doomed. "What's the weather like there?"
"Very pleasant, actually," said Godric. "It never rains. And you don't have to worry about it getting dark."
"Ooh, now I really want to go!"
"Helena, if you aren't quiet, I might just assign some extra work for you over the summer," Godric told the girl.
"Extra work?" whispered John to Geoffrey, who was beginning to look comparatively friendly.
"She's a demon. Enslaved until autumn," Geoffrey informed him. "Keeps trying to get him to say the spell to release her."
"Ah." John nodded slowly. "What was it you came for, again?"
* * *
"Look! The tapestries in the Great Hall are all there!" Basil poked at the tiny wall hangings with the tip of his wand.
"And there's us!" Helga pointed at the Arithmancy tower skylight, where two figures were just visible leaning over a little table, upon which sat another miniature castle.
"I wonder what happens if you move anything," said Basil, squinting through the other windows.
"I don't know. We really should be careful," said Helga. "We don't want him to notice anyone's been here..."
"Oh, he doesn't notice anything unless it's got a square root. We're perfectly sa -- ah... er, oops?" Basil had accidentally pulled away a little bit of the "stone" on one part of the tower. He blinked at the pebble in his hand.
"Well, I think he'd -- Basil, look!" Helga stared out the window as a large rock floated past it.
"What?" He squinted out the window. Experimentally, he began moving the hand up and down. The rock mimicked his movements.
"Excuse me," said a voice from the stairway; startled, Basil dropped the little piece of miniature castle stone he was holding, and something heavy clattered against the side of the wall.
He turned around, only to see Lord Slytherin standing on the spiral stairs. "I was wondering," said Slytherin, "if you two were going to be having dinner tonight."
"Yes, of course," said Helga, grabbing her speechless husband's arm and dragging him towards the stairs. "We were looking for something."
"A book," said Basil.
Salazar smiled. "Of course. I hope you found it?" he asked, not unkindly.
"Ah ...no," said Helga. "I think Rowena must have it," she lied. "It has a brown cover," she added vaguely. "If you see it."
"Then I trust you will not be returning here again?" he asked, in the same tone.
Basil's face seemed to betray reluctance. Jabbing him hard in the ribs, Helga said, "No, I don't think so."
"Very good," he said. He turned and began to descend the stairs.
Once Salazar was out of earshot, Helga gave Basil something of a Look.
"What?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing," she sighed.
* * *
"I'm a demon," announced Helena proudly when they returned.
"Do you really think she should be exposed to such dishonesty?" Jasper stared at Rowena, obviously expecting an answer.
"I don't see why not. It's in her blood," Rowena said, glaring at him. "Besides, the last time I checked, you weren't her mother. How are you a demon, Helena?" she asked, turning her attention to her daughter.
"I don't know," said Helena. "He said it," she added, pointing at Geoffrey. "Where's Hell?"
"Underground," said Rowena. "It's near Hades, but warmer. You brought food? Excellent -- I'm impressed, Godric."
"It wasn't anything, really," said Godric, shrugging.
"Of course not," Rowena cheerfully agreed. "If it had been, you wouldn't have been able to do it. Now get out from underfoot -- unless you can Transfigure this into something better."
* * *
"I was wondering," began Lord Slytherin as they sat down to dinner, "what binds you and Lady Rowena and... ah..."
"Godric," prompted Helga.
Lord Slytherin frowned. "Does he not have a title?"
"I think the students call him 'Professor Gryffindor,'" offered Basil.
Helga laughed. "He always looks absolutely shocked when they do it, too. To be honest, my lord, I don't think he's quite comfortable with being anything but Godric. We grew up together. Mum tutored Rowena and Godric in magic."
"I see," said Slytherin. "Well, why was your mother tutoring Lady Rowena again? I assume that it wasn't simply out of the goodness of her heart."
"And what's your motive for teaching here?" Basil asked pointedly.
"I meant no offense," said Lord Slytherin. "Perhaps I should be more careful with my questions."
"Perhaps you shouldn't insult my family," said Helga quietly, although she knew perfectly well that her mother had always been the first to know about anything dangerous. News of impending plague, battles, and skirmishes -- not to mention the odd political death -- had always reached Helga's mother quickly, often before the events themselves had even happened. It had to be Lady Aeaeae's doing.
"I wasn't insulting," said Lord Slytherin. "Merely commenting. I am not in the practice of speaking to fools, and only fools credit kindness as the single greatest motive of any person, no matter how charitable. But I suppose it's not important. I can venture several guesses as to why the Council Chief's daughter would hardly lack for teachers. But may I ask why she was tutoring your friend Godric? After all, from what I understand, his family is anything but important."
Helga opened her mouth before she realized that she didn't know. "She... well... I suppose... he needed it," she decided. Had Lady Aeaeae been involved? It wouldn't have made much sense, really, but Lady Aeaeae was already in control of everything else....
Lord Slytherin nodded. "And he still needs it, does he not?"
"Very few people can claim to be any good at Transfiguration," said Helga. "And only one person can claim to be the best Transfigurator in the world."
"And your friend Godric does?"
"Perhaps he doesn't," said Helga. "But Rowena thinks he is. Even if she'd never say so aloud."
"And are you schooled in the art of Divination?" Lord Salazar asked with a trace of amusement.
Basil, whom she had seen gritting his teeth throughout the conversation, opened his mouth to speak. Helga shot him a warning glance. "No," she said, "but I know Rowena, and I know how she thinks."
"And how does she think?"
She considered her answer. "Very quickly," she said simply. "And if you'll excuse me, Lord Slytherin, I believe this conversation is over." She stood, and started out of the room, bowing her head briefly at him. Basil followed her, watching Lord Slytherin uncertainly.
"You know," said Basil, "before he seemed so nice..."
"I think that's his job," Helga grumbled. "They're all the same, aren't they? Councilors, I mean. I'm glad I'm not one of them."
Basil nodded agreement. "Although I don't see why he's interested in Godric; it's not as though he's done anything wrong. Seems decent enough to me. Well, there was that thing at the feast."
Helga nodded. "And Rowena, of course; he's obviously after something from her... what I want to know is what he wants from us..."
He blinked. "What?"
"Don't you think he'd have thrown us out already if we weren't important?" Helga asked. "What with you picking fights with his son. I don't trust him," she continued. "Maybe Lady Aeaeae's dishonest, but at least she's as much as said that she has no use for either of us."
Basil appeared to be considering this. "Yet," he added softly.
"Yet," she agreed. "Hmph."
Chapter 9