(no subject)
Title: Between Here and Now and Forever, Chapter 9
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: The Founders, various OCs
Rating: PG
Summary: Blackmail! Murder! Unfounded speculation! Minor blasphemy!
Author's Note: thinkatory betas my work.
Chapter 1
Master Founders post
Chapter 8
After an uncomfortable night's sleep outdoors -- for Godric, at least, although there'd been just enough room for everyone else inside -- Rowena's little group had finally started on their way early the next morning. They attracted many stares from the Muggle villagers, particularly Godric, who cringed every time somebody recognized him -- although this was mostly because he had been awoken by a small but palpably hostile group intent on discovering whether he would leave of his own accord, and if so, when. He had been reassuring them on this count when Rowena came out of the house, muzzy and confused, and he noticed that after that, she hadn't let him out of her sight or put away her wand until they left the village.
Helena, meanwhile, was delighted to have met real live Muggles for real, but was perfectly happy to leave having had the experience. She had managed to bully her Transfiguration teacher into carrying her on one shoulder, to Jasper's whispered disapproval a disinterested shrug from Rowena. "It's probably all he's good for," she snapped at one point.
After several hours' traipsing through the forest, coming out at the wrong spot, and starting off again, they managed to get to Gryffindor's Hollow. It was common for Muggle villages to have small wizarding satellite communities, but due to the hostility of many Muggles, complex charms were often put on any paths between the two so that only the most determined travelers could get from one to the other. So, upon reaching the village, the most anyone wanted to do was to sit and rest for a few moments, with the notable exception of Helena, upon whom the others had to keep a close eye.
The village had not changed notably over the year, with the exception of the Transfigurator's shop. The picture-sign had been taken down, and a small written sign had now taken its place. It read:
Thaddeus Fudge:
Transfigurator
(retired)
By Appointment Only
"As if an appointment would do anyone any good," observed Rowena, shaking her head. "Come on, we're going to the inn."
Godric sighed. "Oh, I don't want to go there again," he said. He'd been getting more and more tired of non-school people recognizing him, and shuddered to think what the patrons of the inn might say; not to mention the fact that Fudge himself might be there. He didn't know what he'd say.
"Too bad," snapped Rowena. "Come, Godric. We're going to find Fudge."
"And what about me?" Jasper demanded. "You're just going to leave me here while you meet Fudge?"
"Of course," said Rowena. "You're going to stay here and watch Helena," said Rowena.
"What?" Jasper seemed insulted by the idea of babysitting while others made plans; Godric would gladly have traded places with him, but he knew it wouldn't happen.
Rowena had no response for him except for an irritated "Godric!" and a beckoning wave of the hand. Godric, reluctant but dutiful, followed.
When he'd ducked in the door of the inn, a silence descended over the previously loud room, and everyone stared.
"Godric!" exclaimed the proprietor after several seconds of looking him up and down. "You're looking well. I almost didn't recognize you!"
"I must have one of those faces," muttered Godric under his breath.
Rowena bit her lip, though she couldn't help but smirk. "What was that?" someone else asked.
"Er, sorry?" Godric asked, unaccustomed to being listened to by anyone over the age of fourteen. "I said it's been a long time since I came here," he said, nodding.
The patrons looked at each other, whispering things to each other that Godric, despite himself, strained to hear. He caught phrases like "so much of himself" and "completely ungrateful," but decided not to comment. Who knew? Maybe he was ungrateful. "And who's your lady friend?" George the innkeeper asked.
Rowena rolled her eyes theatrically, as though she had rehearsed her answer, and when she opened her mouth, Godric realized -- trying not to laugh -- that she had been doing so all her life. "Though I could hardly be considered a friend of his, I am Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, daughter of the Chief of the Wizards' Council, descendant of the wise and noble --"
"Weren't you in here a while back yowlin' about some vampire or another?" George asked.
Rowena blinked. "I don't yowl," she said, after a moment's consideration.
"Let's hope not," said George. "Anyway, d'you want a room?"
"Rooms. Plural. Three," she said stiffly.
"We've got three rooms," said George, "but I don't know how plural they are. Sounds dangerous, if you ask me. You got somebody else with you?"
She nodded. "Of course. And could one of you tell me where Thaddeus Fudge might be found?"
"He's usually at home. By appointment only," supplied George. "Oh, and he'll be happy to see you," he shouted up at Godric, who could hear perfectly well. "Says he misses you. Can't say why myself, but there you go."
Rowena, looking slightly irritated, gave a sharp nod at the door and said, "Well, we'll be going." She left the inn, Godric trailing after her.
Outside, they found Jasper and Helena playing an expanded version of naughts and crosses in the dust, both of them looking disgusted. "Perhaps we should lock them up in one of the rooms," Godric hissed, so that only Rowena could hear.
She shook her head imperceptibly. "They'd hate that. Which do you think would survive?"
Godric watched as Jasper noted their presence and nodded. While he was thus distracted, however, Helena had replaced his circle with her own X. "Helena, probably," he said.
She nodded again, a hint of pride showing in her expression. "Yes, probably," she agreed. Jasper pointed something in the forest out to Helena, who turned for a moment to frown into the gloom while Jasper took an extra two turns. "Though I think she still needs to learn what she can and cannot get away with," Rowena added.
"They're cheating, you know," Godric said, pointing out the obvious. "Aren't you going to say anything about it?"
Rowena stared at him for a moment before replying. "They're being creative in applying the rules," she said. "It's a valuable skill. Besides, it makes the game more interesting," she added. Turning towards the two, she announced in a louder voice, "We'll just be going to visit Master Fudge. Helena, be good, and remember who writes your Arithmancy marks."
At this, Helena stared glumly at the marks in the dust, but waved at her mother nonetheless.
"Creative in applying the rules?" Godric asked, as they wandered over to Fudge's door.
"Sometimes it's best not to be too creative, lest other, more powerful persons become inspired by the example," said Rowena. "With that in mind, you first," she said, pointing at Fudge's door expectantly.
Godric made a face. And things had been going so well, too: Rowena had even been civil -- no, almost friendly -- to him, for once. "Rowena, do we really need to --"
"Yes, we really need to. In fact, if we don't, we really won't get a chance to, or even be permitted to, because my dear mother will find some way to ensure that we don't."
"Which will result in...?"
"Her filling the vacancy in the Council with none other than our own dear Thaddeus Fudge himself. Who won't be pleased to have you outside of his control, since his position in the Council will have been earned by reputation alone. And if he bullied you without a seat in the Council, imagine what he can do with one."
"What about Lord Salazar?" Godric asked. True, there'd been that outburst... he hadn't really spoken to Lord Salazar afterwards, but then he hadn't really spoken to Lord Salazar before it either. And he hadn't been thrown out yet, which, considering his luck in almost everything before the school, Godric was prone to interpret as a good sign.
Rowena blinked. "What about him? He's got supporters, all right, but there's a reason Mum's the Chief of the Council and he's not. Not yet, at least," she said.
"Oh," said Godric, digesting all of this. He wasn't accustomed to thinking like this; he much preferred Transfiguration, where, if he wasn't completely free of danger, he at least knew what would happen if he overestimated his skill. Whereas, in this area, all he knew was that he knew absolutely nothing, and that Rowena, while considerably more knowledgeable than him, was neither trustworthy nor omniscient.
"You didn't get that at all, did you?" she asked irritably after a moment.
"Sort of, but... not really, no," Godric admitted.
"Lucky you," she grumbled. "You knock. It'll be louder," she added, pointing at the door.
Deciding that there was no way of avoiding it, Godric pounded on the door.
It opened slowly, and a wrinkled face topped with grey hair peered out at them. "I'm not... Godric?" Blinking, the man looked up at him.
Rowena stepped forward. "Yes, I think we can safely assume that you are not Godric. Are you, by any chance, Thaddeus Fudge?"
The man drew himself up to his full height, which, even if it had topped Rowena's, could hardly have intimidated her with Godric standing there. "I don't know who you are," he snapped at Rowena, "but I am indeed Thaddeus Fudge, and I have no desire to be intimidated by an illiterate such as yourself. Or can't you read the sign?" He looked up at Godric, possibly to give him some order, but, before he could open his mouth, he was pushed back into his house by an unseen force.
Rowena had drawn her wand, and was staring lividly at something, presumably Fudge. She marched in, and Godric hurriedly followed her, determined to keep Rowena out of trouble.
"You -- you despicable -- you scummy, maggoty little commoner -- how dare you speak to me like that, you miserable little liar of a man," she hissed, circling around Fudge like a vulture. Fudge himself, it seemed, had only just found his footing after being knocked to the floor by a spell. He looked around wildly, then darted behind Godric so that Rowena couldn't get to him.
"Don't just stand there, boy! Get rid of the madwoman!" he shouted at Godric.
Godric regarded him placidly for a moment, and then discovered within himself an inner streak of cruelty he'd never realized he had, though he would later decide that his meeting with John the bully had brought it to life. He stepped aside, remarking, "Horrible low ceilings you have around here," then continued speaking. "I don't believe you've been introduced to my new employer, Master Fudge. This is Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, daughter of the current Chief of the Wizard's Council," he explained sing-songily, rolling his eyes. "Didn't you attend a feast at her husband's castle once? You took me along to carry baggage, too," he added helpfully. "I remember it very well, because I had to sit in the corner with the dogs while everyone else ate. I did tell you I knew her."
Fudge stared at Rowena, open-mouthed. Then he seemed to shrink back into the shadows. "Ah. Er. Ahem. So sorry, milady, you must excuse -- it's just that the sign -- I didn't -- quite a lot of familial resemblance, once you -- I mean, er, yes, of course I remember you, it's just been so long since -- er -- um -- how is Lord Ravenclaw doing these days?" he inquired hopefully.
"Not well," said Rowena. "He's been very dead."
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear --"
"Don't bother to be," Rowena said nastily. "At any rate, you can forget my mother's orders."
It took him a moment to answer this. "What?" he asked, looking inexplicably relieved.
"You can forget her orders," repeated Rowena. "She'd have owled you, but owls, as you know, can be intercepted. I cannot, particularly not with Godric here," she said, nodding at Godric. "He's very useful for getting rid of nuisances," she added.
Fudge looked terrified at this remark, and edged away from Godric slightly. He shot a pleading look up at Godric -- But I'm not a nuisance, am I?
Feeling slightly uneasy at this -- after all, it wasn't as though Fudge had ever hurt him -- not with any physical force, at least -- Godric inwardly cringed.
"And another thing," said Rowena, and both men looked at her with surprise. "I couldn't help but wonder if you knew about the school."
Godric opened his mouth to ask her what she thought she was doing, but she gave him a fierce glare, and continued.
"As it happens, an institution such as a school needs rather a lot of money before it becomes stable. It occurs to me that you have rather a lot of money. Mine, I must admit, is all tied up at the moment in other projects. But the school's really a very good cause, as Godric here can tell you. He teaches Transfiguration," she added, with a small nod, "and he's really quite good at it. Almost as good as you were back in your prime -- but now I suppose that's over -- a pity, we all agree. At any rate, any -- strictly voluntary -- contributions would be very much appreciated."
Fudge looked from Rowena to Godric, then back to Rowena. "Ah. Yes. A noble cause. Er. Whom shall I owl?"
"That would be Godric," said Rowena quickly. "He keeps track of these things. He's very good at that, too."
Godric tried not to look confused; what was she blackmailing Fudge for if she wasn't taking the money? Well, of course she was taking the money, he realized. She'd just bully him for it once it arrived, and he, being himself, would willingly give it to her, all but thanking her for not hurting him. He was so busy being disgusted with himself that he hardly noticed the weak smile and nod Fudge gave him.
"Of course," said Fudge quickly. "In fact, er, perhaps, you'd like a small contribution now?"
"That would be lovely," said Rowena, with a thin smile. "Wouldn't it?" She looked expectantly up at Godric.
"What? Oh, yes," said Godric quickly, watching Fudge back out of the room and into another. He'd been trying to work out how much money Fudge had made, and how much Fudge would still have. He'd guessed that Fudge would still have a sizeable amount of the gold left, considering how miserly he'd always been, and how small this horrible house was -- Godric barely had enough room to breathe, much less stand up properly. His back was starting to hurt, and he remembered how glad he'd been to live at the castle, with its high ceilings and space.
Fudge had hurried back from his other room by now, and held out a small, jingling bag to Rowena, who snatched it. She nodded sharply at Fudge and then she turned to Godric. "I think we've taken up enough of Master Fudge's valuable time, don't you?"
Godric nodded quickly, and sacrificed politeness for speed in leaving the house.
When they'd emerged, he looked up at the sky in relief. "Dear God, that place was terrible," he said.
"I think there's some sort of spell on it," said Rowena. "Mum might've put it there to make him more amenable to whatever her requests were. I don't think he's bright enough to have managed it himself. Imagine," she continued, "calling me illiterate. The nerve..."
He waited until her muttering had calmed down a bit before asking, very hesitantly, "What do you think she did ask of him?"
"That," said Rowena, "is a very good question. I intend to find out." She glanced at Helena and Jasper, then turned back to him, her determined expression melting into a thoughtful one. "I don't remember you being at the feast with Fudge," she said.
"I, er." He hadn't been prepared for a question like that. He had gone wondering if Rowena was there, hoping she would see him and maybe talk to him, but they hadn't exactly been friends. "I don't think you recognized me," he said. "You looked... upset. Or ill or something, I don't know. I mean, I considered saying something, but I was supposed to keep more or less out of sight, and why would you want to even talk to --"
"I was pregnant, actually," said Rowena. "So you were mostly right. It was early, though, so I suppose I might've just looked, er... uncharacteristically shapely." She went a bit pink.
"Oh," said Godric. "That explains a lot, then. I just thought you looked glum, and you probably didn't need any more irritation, and I know you don't like me. I thought it might've been nice to have someone to talk to, is all."
Rowena looked as though she might cry -- it was the way she had looked back then, too -- and Godric thought he must have said something horribly insensitive by accident. But she only swallowed and said "It would have been. But it was a long time ago." She sighed, and tried to sound cheerful. "At any rate, we've temporarily stopped my mum and Fudge. But you know Fudge better than I do -- do let me know if you've any idea what we've stopped them from doing."
And she said no more, except to call Helena and Jasper over so that they could make preparations to leave as early as possible tomorrow morning.
* * *
Their party arrived back at the castle very early in the morning, and when they walked into the Great Hall, Lord Slytherin and the Hufflepuffs were still having breakfast. Godric sensed some sort of tension, which took no great expertise, as Lord Slytherin was bravely eating at the middle of the table, while the Hufflepuffs were slightly off to the side, peering at him with caution and morning crankiness.
He opened his mouth to say something about it to Rowena, but then Jasper started rattling about how horrible their trip had been, and how they'd been lost, and how unpleasant the inn was, and how the universe had conspired against them for various unjust reasons.
Rowena merely rolled her eyes, shook her head, and dragged Helena up to the breakfast table. Godric trudged warily after, sitting opposite Helga and Basil, and frowning at the silent Lord Slytherin.
"Helena, don't play with your food. How old are you now?" Rowena snapped. Helena looked up briefly, shrugged, and went back to erecting a small hut with her food. Her mother made no effort to stop her, but instead nudged Helga. "What's happened?"
Helga frowned. "What do you mean, what's happened?" she asked crankily.
Godric nodded surreptitiously at Lord Slytherin, who was deep in conversation with Jasper now. "With him. He didn't say anything about throwing me out, did he?" he whispered.
Basil shook his head. "Not you. If he's not making us leave, why would he make you leave?"
"What do you mean?" Rowena asked.
Sighing, Helga said, "Look, he's using you for something, Rowena, and I don't like it. But we're not going along with it and I think the best thing to do is just refuse to provide information."
Rowena, surprisingly, shrugged. "Well, I don't see that he has much choice -- I suppose if you two leave, I will, but I'd rather not. We've got to have a patron, and I can't afford to be it."
"He's using you, though," said Helga. "That doesn't bother you at all?"
She shook her head.
"Not even a little bit?"
"No," said Rowena.
"We don't even know what it's for," put in Basil, a bit loudly; Helga hissed at him to be quiet.
"Of course we do," Rowena said. "He wants to be Chief of the Council."
"Well, yes," said Helga, "but specifics would be nice."
"Wait," said Godric. "I think you sort of lost me around the part where you were being used."
"We are," said Helga. "Including you. All of us. I mean, he's got his trees from me, so he'd better treat me well, but you, Godric, he was asking about you too."
"Interrogating, more like," said Basil.
Godric frowned. "But he's not making me leave?"
Helga sighed, and shook her head. "Never mind, Runty."
"But he's not?"
"No, he's not," said Helga, rolling her eyes. "But that's not the point. You should leave. What if he wants you for some weird political thing that you don't want to do?"
"Well, like what?" Godric asked. "I mean, he's paying to feed me -- which nobody's ever wanted to do, and I don't blame them -- I get somewhere to sleep, and I get access to books! Lots of them. I'm not going to complain. He could make me carry boxes all day and I'd still be really pleased. Books and candles," he added. "Do you know what it's like not to have candles?"
"You say that now but look," said Basil, "when I was in the Hunters' Guild they used to send inconveniently useless or curious or mad hunters on special missions, which invariably involved being ambushed by vampires or werewolves and bitten. It was just to ensure that there would always be something for the rest of them to hunt. What if it's something like that?" he asked. "Or, or! He does potions, right, but he's got no magic --"
"He hasn't got no magic," snapped Rowena. "His sister was a Squib, but he's got magic. He just hasn't got much --"
"So he's got not much magic," Basil continued, "and you have loads!" He gestured expansively. "And what if he could take a potion that could give him loads of magic, only what he has to do is take you apart to see how magic works?"
"That wouldn't work," said Rowena, rolling her eyes.
"So let me get this straight," said Godric. "My hypothetical choice is between slow miserable starvation, in a place where probably everyone is terrified of me and there are no books. Or! Being warm, and provided with the sort of luxuries most scholars can only dream of, and having friends, and also, possibly, being murdered?"
"...Well, when you put it like that, the murder plan does sound pretty good," said Basil. "I'd take murder, actually."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Godric. "I'd take him for all I could! And run away at the first whiff of imminent murder, of course --"
"Of course," Basil agreed, seeing the sense in this.
"-- but I'd be a lot better off. Anyone with that nonsensical a plan can't have thought out his murdering very well."
Rowena snorted, despite the topic of conversation. "He's got a point, you know. Murder is surprisingly difficult to pull off. I mean, so I've heard."
"As amusing as the tangent was," said Helga, "the point is, we don't know what you lot are in for, and I just don't think that's acceptable."
"Why not?" Rowena asked. "It's how everything else works."
"No it's not," said Helga. "I mean, he could want you as a hostage. He could want me as a hostage -- and I owe it to my previous customers not to be so easily compromised."
"Well, you obviously already have been, if you thought the man was offering us a castle out of the goodness of his heart," Rowena said. "This is how reality works. Anyone who does something for you wants something out of it."
"Oh, you're one to talk about reality, Rowena," said Helga. "Have you ever actually had to work?"
"Well, no, but --"
"And what do you want us for, dare I ask?" she added. "What do you think I wanted to use you for?"
"Oh come on, without me no one would have heard of you," snapped Rowena, losing her temper. "You're just some witch's bastard daughter who's good with plants, but you grew up with me, so you met my mum, and of course everyone wants their carnivorous plants done by the Chief's security herbologist."
Helga took a deep breath. "Well. I see you're getting to be just as bad as her, aren't you?" Then she left.
"You come back here and repeat that!" shouted Rowena, but Helga didn't even acknowledge her words.
Basil looked at his wife. He shook his head, then glared back at Rowena. "Now look at what you've done." Then he dashed after Helga.
As they stalked off, Godric frowned at his plate. "I don't think that went very well at all."
"Shut up," she said bitterly. "Fat lot of good you did."
He decided he'd better not remind her that he'd defended her. "You don't think she'll actually leave, do you?" he asked worriedly. If she did, he'd be all alone in the castle among people he didn't know very well, except for Rowena, who was usually an enemy.
She glared. "Of course she won't. She'd never leave here. She's my best friend, after all. Just a bit ill-tempered at times. She'll come to her senses. Helena, what are you staring at?" she snapped suddenly. "Finish what's on your plate! There are starving Muggle children, you know."
"Why don't we send them some food?" Helena grumbled.
"Because they're... they're too far away," Rowena snapped in frustration. "It'd be impractical. I don't know. Just do what I say."
Godric wondered if she'd actually heard any of the things she'd just said.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" she demanded.
"Nothing!" he said. "I'm not looking at you like anything."
She simply glared, apparently content to disbelieve him.
* * *
Her classes were going well, but Rowena felt like the castle was full of enemies. There was Godric, of course, who presented very little threat, although she suspected that he was perhaps a bit more intelligent than she'd been giving him credit for. But now she couldn't be certain of Helga, who had not left, but was apparently too busy to apologize. Basil, of course, didn't matter much to her -- they'd never really got along much, anyway -- but he seemed more hostile than usual lately. She thought that she'd be able to take him in a duel, but then, she rarely met people whom she considered capable of besting her.
She'd withdrawn into the company of Lord Salazar and Jasper, who were nice enough, she supposed, but Jasper was almost childish in his self-assurance -- unlike herself, he had very little reason to suppose himself particularly clever, although he had designed the castle -- and Lord Salazar gave the impression of waiting patiently. What he was waiting for, she couldn't tell, but she had a feeling he wasn't about explain himself further.
One rather drizzly day, long after she'd tired of discussing magical theory with Jasper, Rowena decided that she'd had enough of social interaction for the day -- she sometimes wondered if maybe she wasn't very good at it -- and had gone in search of something she could read without being asked to think.
Wandering to a room she'd set aside as a library, though at the moment all it contained was her small private collection of books, Rowena swung open the heavy door, glad of the privacy it would offer. But, to her dismay, there were people there. Namely, Helga, Basil, and Godric. They looked up -- Godric giving a small, acknowledging nod, curse him -- and Rowena turned and walked away quickly, letting the door slam shut.
Resisting the urge to run, she stalked back to the Blue Common Room, stomping up the stairs to her bedroom at the top of the tower.
There she found Helena, sitting in the middle of her bed, finishing off Rowena's cache of sweets; the one that no one was supposed to know about. "Oh," said Helena, sounding surprised. She hid the jar behind her, and smiled quaveringly at Rowena. "Hullo, Mum."
"Helena, get out of here!" she snapped.
Knowing her mother too well to argue, Helena rolled off the bed quickly and ran out of the room. Rowena knew she was hiding just beyond it, but she didn't care. She looked again at the empty and abandoned jar, which had been filled with enchanted marzipan dragons that spat cinnamon. It would've been nice to withdraw to some more comfortable spot and finish them off herself, but Helena had ruined that guilty pleasure for her. Grumbling, she waved her wand at a spot on the floor, and watched as the spiral staircase slid out.
Ascending the staircase and unlocking the trapdoor, she stepped out into the rain. This was the very top of the tower, and as she looked down at the rest of the castle she could see the whole of the school grounds. She didn't care how wet and miserable it was anymore. She had every right to be wet and miserable along with the rest of the world, and at least the rain made everything smell nice.
* * *
Helena listened from outside the door, concerned. Mum had her mad fits; it was true, but that only meant that Helena had to keep her from doing anything stupid. When she stopped hearing cursing and muttering and stomping from the room, she pushed open the door, slowly, and peered in.
There was no one there, but the stairway to the trapdoor was extended. Helena knew where that led, as she remembered her mother showing it to her after her first day at the school. You can see everything from here, she'd said. If anyone attacked, you and I would be the first people to know. It hadn't turned out to be true, Helena reflected, but, of course, her mum had had no way of knowing that. After that, she'd said, You have to promise me, Helena, never to come out here alone. All right?
And Helena, with no intention of keeping this promise, had nodded and said, Of course, Mum.
Good girl, her mother had said, patting her on the back. I don't want you to fall off.
Biting her lip, Helena went back into her mother's bedroom. She'd been behaving more and more unpredictably since her argument with Aunt Helga, and Helena had always worried for her health. That was one reason she'd eaten the marzipan dragons -- Mum had always said that too much sugar was bad for little girls, but, if it was, then it must be just as bad for grown-ups, Helena reasoned. Of course, Mum always said to other people that she didn't like sweets, but she thought she could tell when Mum was lying and when she wasn't.
But there were more important things than sweets at stake, Helena decided. Picking her way up the staircase, she tried to push open the trapdoor. It didn't open.
Saying a few rude words she'd learned from her mother, she pushed against the trapdoor with more force. It still wouldn't open, and by now she was getting worried. Light flashed across the room from the slit windows, and she jumped when she heard the thunder.
She had to find somebody to open the door.
* * *
Re-locking the trapdoor with her wand, Rowena walked to the edge and peered down through the battlements at the very long drop. Even Rowena, who had never been afraid of heights, had to shiver at the thought of experiencing it. She backed away quickly and looked up at the sky.
There was a blinding flash of light, and a crash of thunder soon followed it. "Brilliant," she muttered, looking defiantly up at the black clouds. When she had been little, her mother had insisted this meant that Zeus was upset with Rowena for not doing what her mother had said. "Oh, shut up!" she shouted. "You lot aren't even real, are you? Go ahead -- show me you're there! I dare you. I'm not afraid of a lot of stories!"
The next flash of lightning brought her to her senses a bit. Shouting at the gods was either useless or an exercise in stupidity, and she didn't want to be accused of doing something that was either one. Sitting on the floor next to a battlement, she recalled the way she'd acted in the library. They were in my territory, with my books, she thought.
But then another voice countered, Yes, but I'd given it to the school. I knew students would be using those books and getting their grubby little hands all over them. If they can use it, why can't the teachers?
She really had no reason to be angry. It wasn't as though they'd done anything wrong. Well, they might have done it to upset her -- perhaps they were plotting against her -- who knew? They could have been talking about her behind her back, spreading poisonous lies -- anything!
That didn't mean she had a right to deny them reading material, though. Besides, they might have been talking innocently about anything. Why would they care what she was doing? None of them gave a damn about her, anyway. Now thoroughly soaked and feeling very silly, she sighed and considered going back downstairs. She decided that she had better find some dry clothes before dinner, so as not to humiliate herself.
Wham! The trapdoor flew open of its own accord, and, as Rowena jumped back to watch, an arm emerged and grabbed the edge of the door. Then Godric squeezed through the opening. Getting to his feet, he closed the door again. "Exactly what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, looming over her. He seemed to have perfected the art of looming, and so Rowena found herself stepping back to the edge of the tower.
"I -- I came up here to think," she said, as lightning crackled above them.
"Do you know how dangerous this is?" he demanded. He looked away for a moment, then shuddered; Rowena noticed how careful he was to stay as close to the center and as far from the edge as possible.
"It's not all that bad," she said weakly.
"Oh no, because standing on the top of a tower in the middle of a thunderstorm's not dangerous at all!" he shouted.
She shrank back, cringing. She knew it was Godric, only Godric, but he was shouting at her and there was thunder and she was cold. She shivered, and backed away some more.
He dropped to his knees. "Rowena, are you all right?" he asked, sounding more worried than angry.
She shook her head, silently. Had she been in a better mood, she might have snapped, That's a bloody stupid question, but right now she didn't even want to speak.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to frighten you like that." He reached out to touch her arm, but she drew away.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, glaring at him.
"Rowena, come on," he pleaded. "Helena was in hysterics, she thought you were going to jump."
She blinked. "Why in Hades would I want to do that?" she asked.
He shrugged. "It's been known to happen sometimes. Jasper says his aunt --"
"Well," she said, "I wouldn't do it. I'm not stupid, after all."
"Rowena, it's the middle of a thunderstorm, you're on a tower, and you were screaming at the sky earlier. We all heard you. What exactly were you going to do next?"
She glared at him again. "Certainly not jump," she muttered. "For your information, I was just getting ready to come back down when you barged in."
Godric pulled the trapdoor open again. "Ladies first, then," he said grumpily, moving out of her way. He was still on his hands and knees.
Rowena made her way through the trapdoor and down the stairs again, then shut the door behind her and locked it with a charm. Serves him right, frightening me like that, she thought viciously, knowing that lighting usually struck the tallest thing in the area. She hoped it got him. Wringing out a corner of her dress, she continued, dripping, down the stairs. She stared at Helga and Basil, who were waiting there, Helena clutching Helga's hand.
At the sight of her mother, Helena sprang away from Helga and stood apart from her, eyes downcast. Helga, meanwhile, simply stared at Rowena. Basil crossed his arms.
"She was crying," he said, not kindly. Helena made no move to acknowledge his words, but she did sniffle a bit.
"Well?" asked Helga.
Suddenly, Helena looked up. "I'm sorry Mummy, I didn't mean to make you angry," she said very quickly. Then she bit her lip.
Rowena rushed forward and took Helena in her arms. "It's all right," she said, hugging her, and probably making her very wet in the process. "It's all right. I would never do that," she said. "I wouldn't. I'd never do that to you, not if I could help it. And it wasn't your fault, either. You think I'd do that just because you ate all my marzipan?" she asked, with a small, half-hearted smile.
She felt Helena shake her head, but all she heard her say was, "I was worried."
"Shh," whispered Rowena. "It's all right now."
There was a huge crash from behind them, and Rowena looked over her shoulder to see what it was. Godric jumped down from an opening, as rain drizzled down onto the remains of the trapdoor. "For God's sake, Rowena, don't leave me up there!" he shouted. "You know I don't like heights!" He was pale, shivering, and drenched, which was probably why he was not nearly as imposing as he'd been.
"Come on, Runty, and let her change," she heard Helga say, and Godric, dripping, walked past her. "Rowena?" Helga asked.
Rowena looked back at her.
"If you scare us like that again," said Helga levelly, "I guarantee you that one of us -- possibly me, since Godric hasn't the heart -- will strangle you with their bare hands. So don't do it."
Rowena nodded, irritable but, well, a bit guilty. Helena was still clutching at her as the others filed out of the room. "Don't worry, it's all right," she told Helena. "Only you need to let go of me."
Helena released her, and sat on the floor, wiping at her eyes.
"Come and help me pick something to wear to dinner tonight," said Rowena. "And after that we can go and get more sweets from the kitchens, all right?"
Helena nodded silently. Then she spoke hesitantly. "But I don't want any more sweets."
"One generally doesn't, after an ordeal," said Rowena. "But my supply has mysteriously run out, it seems, and it must be refreshed."
This prompted a guilty grin from Helena. "All right. And... er... sorry."
"It's all right," Rowena assured her. "Sometimes I can do stupid things. It's good not to have too much pride in oneself."
Fortunately, Rowena had busied herself with digging through a trunk, for had she been looking at Helena, she would have noticed her very skeptical look.
Chapter 10
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: The Founders, various OCs
Rating: PG
Summary: Blackmail! Murder! Unfounded speculation! Minor blasphemy!
Author's Note: thinkatory betas my work.
Chapter 1
Master Founders post
Chapter 8
After an uncomfortable night's sleep outdoors -- for Godric, at least, although there'd been just enough room for everyone else inside -- Rowena's little group had finally started on their way early the next morning. They attracted many stares from the Muggle villagers, particularly Godric, who cringed every time somebody recognized him -- although this was mostly because he had been awoken by a small but palpably hostile group intent on discovering whether he would leave of his own accord, and if so, when. He had been reassuring them on this count when Rowena came out of the house, muzzy and confused, and he noticed that after that, she hadn't let him out of her sight or put away her wand until they left the village.
Helena, meanwhile, was delighted to have met real live Muggles for real, but was perfectly happy to leave having had the experience. She had managed to bully her Transfiguration teacher into carrying her on one shoulder, to Jasper's whispered disapproval a disinterested shrug from Rowena. "It's probably all he's good for," she snapped at one point.
After several hours' traipsing through the forest, coming out at the wrong spot, and starting off again, they managed to get to Gryffindor's Hollow. It was common for Muggle villages to have small wizarding satellite communities, but due to the hostility of many Muggles, complex charms were often put on any paths between the two so that only the most determined travelers could get from one to the other. So, upon reaching the village, the most anyone wanted to do was to sit and rest for a few moments, with the notable exception of Helena, upon whom the others had to keep a close eye.
The village had not changed notably over the year, with the exception of the Transfigurator's shop. The picture-sign had been taken down, and a small written sign had now taken its place. It read:
Thaddeus Fudge:
Transfigurator
(retired)
By Appointment Only
"As if an appointment would do anyone any good," observed Rowena, shaking her head. "Come on, we're going to the inn."
Godric sighed. "Oh, I don't want to go there again," he said. He'd been getting more and more tired of non-school people recognizing him, and shuddered to think what the patrons of the inn might say; not to mention the fact that Fudge himself might be there. He didn't know what he'd say.
"Too bad," snapped Rowena. "Come, Godric. We're going to find Fudge."
"And what about me?" Jasper demanded. "You're just going to leave me here while you meet Fudge?"
"Of course," said Rowena. "You're going to stay here and watch Helena," said Rowena.
"What?" Jasper seemed insulted by the idea of babysitting while others made plans; Godric would gladly have traded places with him, but he knew it wouldn't happen.
Rowena had no response for him except for an irritated "Godric!" and a beckoning wave of the hand. Godric, reluctant but dutiful, followed.
When he'd ducked in the door of the inn, a silence descended over the previously loud room, and everyone stared.
"Godric!" exclaimed the proprietor after several seconds of looking him up and down. "You're looking well. I almost didn't recognize you!"
"I must have one of those faces," muttered Godric under his breath.
Rowena bit her lip, though she couldn't help but smirk. "What was that?" someone else asked.
"Er, sorry?" Godric asked, unaccustomed to being listened to by anyone over the age of fourteen. "I said it's been a long time since I came here," he said, nodding.
The patrons looked at each other, whispering things to each other that Godric, despite himself, strained to hear. He caught phrases like "so much of himself" and "completely ungrateful," but decided not to comment. Who knew? Maybe he was ungrateful. "And who's your lady friend?" George the innkeeper asked.
Rowena rolled her eyes theatrically, as though she had rehearsed her answer, and when she opened her mouth, Godric realized -- trying not to laugh -- that she had been doing so all her life. "Though I could hardly be considered a friend of his, I am Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, daughter of the Chief of the Wizards' Council, descendant of the wise and noble --"
"Weren't you in here a while back yowlin' about some vampire or another?" George asked.
Rowena blinked. "I don't yowl," she said, after a moment's consideration.
"Let's hope not," said George. "Anyway, d'you want a room?"
"Rooms. Plural. Three," she said stiffly.
"We've got three rooms," said George, "but I don't know how plural they are. Sounds dangerous, if you ask me. You got somebody else with you?"
She nodded. "Of course. And could one of you tell me where Thaddeus Fudge might be found?"
"He's usually at home. By appointment only," supplied George. "Oh, and he'll be happy to see you," he shouted up at Godric, who could hear perfectly well. "Says he misses you. Can't say why myself, but there you go."
Rowena, looking slightly irritated, gave a sharp nod at the door and said, "Well, we'll be going." She left the inn, Godric trailing after her.
Outside, they found Jasper and Helena playing an expanded version of naughts and crosses in the dust, both of them looking disgusted. "Perhaps we should lock them up in one of the rooms," Godric hissed, so that only Rowena could hear.
She shook her head imperceptibly. "They'd hate that. Which do you think would survive?"
Godric watched as Jasper noted their presence and nodded. While he was thus distracted, however, Helena had replaced his circle with her own X. "Helena, probably," he said.
She nodded again, a hint of pride showing in her expression. "Yes, probably," she agreed. Jasper pointed something in the forest out to Helena, who turned for a moment to frown into the gloom while Jasper took an extra two turns. "Though I think she still needs to learn what she can and cannot get away with," Rowena added.
"They're cheating, you know," Godric said, pointing out the obvious. "Aren't you going to say anything about it?"
Rowena stared at him for a moment before replying. "They're being creative in applying the rules," she said. "It's a valuable skill. Besides, it makes the game more interesting," she added. Turning towards the two, she announced in a louder voice, "We'll just be going to visit Master Fudge. Helena, be good, and remember who writes your Arithmancy marks."
At this, Helena stared glumly at the marks in the dust, but waved at her mother nonetheless.
"Creative in applying the rules?" Godric asked, as they wandered over to Fudge's door.
"Sometimes it's best not to be too creative, lest other, more powerful persons become inspired by the example," said Rowena. "With that in mind, you first," she said, pointing at Fudge's door expectantly.
Godric made a face. And things had been going so well, too: Rowena had even been civil -- no, almost friendly -- to him, for once. "Rowena, do we really need to --"
"Yes, we really need to. In fact, if we don't, we really won't get a chance to, or even be permitted to, because my dear mother will find some way to ensure that we don't."
"Which will result in...?"
"Her filling the vacancy in the Council with none other than our own dear Thaddeus Fudge himself. Who won't be pleased to have you outside of his control, since his position in the Council will have been earned by reputation alone. And if he bullied you without a seat in the Council, imagine what he can do with one."
"What about Lord Salazar?" Godric asked. True, there'd been that outburst... he hadn't really spoken to Lord Salazar afterwards, but then he hadn't really spoken to Lord Salazar before it either. And he hadn't been thrown out yet, which, considering his luck in almost everything before the school, Godric was prone to interpret as a good sign.
Rowena blinked. "What about him? He's got supporters, all right, but there's a reason Mum's the Chief of the Council and he's not. Not yet, at least," she said.
"Oh," said Godric, digesting all of this. He wasn't accustomed to thinking like this; he much preferred Transfiguration, where, if he wasn't completely free of danger, he at least knew what would happen if he overestimated his skill. Whereas, in this area, all he knew was that he knew absolutely nothing, and that Rowena, while considerably more knowledgeable than him, was neither trustworthy nor omniscient.
"You didn't get that at all, did you?" she asked irritably after a moment.
"Sort of, but... not really, no," Godric admitted.
"Lucky you," she grumbled. "You knock. It'll be louder," she added, pointing at the door.
Deciding that there was no way of avoiding it, Godric pounded on the door.
It opened slowly, and a wrinkled face topped with grey hair peered out at them. "I'm not... Godric?" Blinking, the man looked up at him.
Rowena stepped forward. "Yes, I think we can safely assume that you are not Godric. Are you, by any chance, Thaddeus Fudge?"
The man drew himself up to his full height, which, even if it had topped Rowena's, could hardly have intimidated her with Godric standing there. "I don't know who you are," he snapped at Rowena, "but I am indeed Thaddeus Fudge, and I have no desire to be intimidated by an illiterate such as yourself. Or can't you read the sign?" He looked up at Godric, possibly to give him some order, but, before he could open his mouth, he was pushed back into his house by an unseen force.
Rowena had drawn her wand, and was staring lividly at something, presumably Fudge. She marched in, and Godric hurriedly followed her, determined to keep Rowena out of trouble.
"You -- you despicable -- you scummy, maggoty little commoner -- how dare you speak to me like that, you miserable little liar of a man," she hissed, circling around Fudge like a vulture. Fudge himself, it seemed, had only just found his footing after being knocked to the floor by a spell. He looked around wildly, then darted behind Godric so that Rowena couldn't get to him.
"Don't just stand there, boy! Get rid of the madwoman!" he shouted at Godric.
Godric regarded him placidly for a moment, and then discovered within himself an inner streak of cruelty he'd never realized he had, though he would later decide that his meeting with John the bully had brought it to life. He stepped aside, remarking, "Horrible low ceilings you have around here," then continued speaking. "I don't believe you've been introduced to my new employer, Master Fudge. This is Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, daughter of the current Chief of the Wizard's Council," he explained sing-songily, rolling his eyes. "Didn't you attend a feast at her husband's castle once? You took me along to carry baggage, too," he added helpfully. "I remember it very well, because I had to sit in the corner with the dogs while everyone else ate. I did tell you I knew her."
Fudge stared at Rowena, open-mouthed. Then he seemed to shrink back into the shadows. "Ah. Er. Ahem. So sorry, milady, you must excuse -- it's just that the sign -- I didn't -- quite a lot of familial resemblance, once you -- I mean, er, yes, of course I remember you, it's just been so long since -- er -- um -- how is Lord Ravenclaw doing these days?" he inquired hopefully.
"Not well," said Rowena. "He's been very dead."
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear --"
"Don't bother to be," Rowena said nastily. "At any rate, you can forget my mother's orders."
It took him a moment to answer this. "What?" he asked, looking inexplicably relieved.
"You can forget her orders," repeated Rowena. "She'd have owled you, but owls, as you know, can be intercepted. I cannot, particularly not with Godric here," she said, nodding at Godric. "He's very useful for getting rid of nuisances," she added.
Fudge looked terrified at this remark, and edged away from Godric slightly. He shot a pleading look up at Godric -- But I'm not a nuisance, am I?
Feeling slightly uneasy at this -- after all, it wasn't as though Fudge had ever hurt him -- not with any physical force, at least -- Godric inwardly cringed.
"And another thing," said Rowena, and both men looked at her with surprise. "I couldn't help but wonder if you knew about the school."
Godric opened his mouth to ask her what she thought she was doing, but she gave him a fierce glare, and continued.
"As it happens, an institution such as a school needs rather a lot of money before it becomes stable. It occurs to me that you have rather a lot of money. Mine, I must admit, is all tied up at the moment in other projects. But the school's really a very good cause, as Godric here can tell you. He teaches Transfiguration," she added, with a small nod, "and he's really quite good at it. Almost as good as you were back in your prime -- but now I suppose that's over -- a pity, we all agree. At any rate, any -- strictly voluntary -- contributions would be very much appreciated."
Fudge looked from Rowena to Godric, then back to Rowena. "Ah. Yes. A noble cause. Er. Whom shall I owl?"
"That would be Godric," said Rowena quickly. "He keeps track of these things. He's very good at that, too."
Godric tried not to look confused; what was she blackmailing Fudge for if she wasn't taking the money? Well, of course she was taking the money, he realized. She'd just bully him for it once it arrived, and he, being himself, would willingly give it to her, all but thanking her for not hurting him. He was so busy being disgusted with himself that he hardly noticed the weak smile and nod Fudge gave him.
"Of course," said Fudge quickly. "In fact, er, perhaps, you'd like a small contribution now?"
"That would be lovely," said Rowena, with a thin smile. "Wouldn't it?" She looked expectantly up at Godric.
"What? Oh, yes," said Godric quickly, watching Fudge back out of the room and into another. He'd been trying to work out how much money Fudge had made, and how much Fudge would still have. He'd guessed that Fudge would still have a sizeable amount of the gold left, considering how miserly he'd always been, and how small this horrible house was -- Godric barely had enough room to breathe, much less stand up properly. His back was starting to hurt, and he remembered how glad he'd been to live at the castle, with its high ceilings and space.
Fudge had hurried back from his other room by now, and held out a small, jingling bag to Rowena, who snatched it. She nodded sharply at Fudge and then she turned to Godric. "I think we've taken up enough of Master Fudge's valuable time, don't you?"
Godric nodded quickly, and sacrificed politeness for speed in leaving the house.
When they'd emerged, he looked up at the sky in relief. "Dear God, that place was terrible," he said.
"I think there's some sort of spell on it," said Rowena. "Mum might've put it there to make him more amenable to whatever her requests were. I don't think he's bright enough to have managed it himself. Imagine," she continued, "calling me illiterate. The nerve..."
He waited until her muttering had calmed down a bit before asking, very hesitantly, "What do you think she did ask of him?"
"That," said Rowena, "is a very good question. I intend to find out." She glanced at Helena and Jasper, then turned back to him, her determined expression melting into a thoughtful one. "I don't remember you being at the feast with Fudge," she said.
"I, er." He hadn't been prepared for a question like that. He had gone wondering if Rowena was there, hoping she would see him and maybe talk to him, but they hadn't exactly been friends. "I don't think you recognized me," he said. "You looked... upset. Or ill or something, I don't know. I mean, I considered saying something, but I was supposed to keep more or less out of sight, and why would you want to even talk to --"
"I was pregnant, actually," said Rowena. "So you were mostly right. It was early, though, so I suppose I might've just looked, er... uncharacteristically shapely." She went a bit pink.
"Oh," said Godric. "That explains a lot, then. I just thought you looked glum, and you probably didn't need any more irritation, and I know you don't like me. I thought it might've been nice to have someone to talk to, is all."
Rowena looked as though she might cry -- it was the way she had looked back then, too -- and Godric thought he must have said something horribly insensitive by accident. But she only swallowed and said "It would have been. But it was a long time ago." She sighed, and tried to sound cheerful. "At any rate, we've temporarily stopped my mum and Fudge. But you know Fudge better than I do -- do let me know if you've any idea what we've stopped them from doing."
And she said no more, except to call Helena and Jasper over so that they could make preparations to leave as early as possible tomorrow morning.
* * *
Their party arrived back at the castle very early in the morning, and when they walked into the Great Hall, Lord Slytherin and the Hufflepuffs were still having breakfast. Godric sensed some sort of tension, which took no great expertise, as Lord Slytherin was bravely eating at the middle of the table, while the Hufflepuffs were slightly off to the side, peering at him with caution and morning crankiness.
He opened his mouth to say something about it to Rowena, but then Jasper started rattling about how horrible their trip had been, and how they'd been lost, and how unpleasant the inn was, and how the universe had conspired against them for various unjust reasons.
Rowena merely rolled her eyes, shook her head, and dragged Helena up to the breakfast table. Godric trudged warily after, sitting opposite Helga and Basil, and frowning at the silent Lord Slytherin.
"Helena, don't play with your food. How old are you now?" Rowena snapped. Helena looked up briefly, shrugged, and went back to erecting a small hut with her food. Her mother made no effort to stop her, but instead nudged Helga. "What's happened?"
Helga frowned. "What do you mean, what's happened?" she asked crankily.
Godric nodded surreptitiously at Lord Slytherin, who was deep in conversation with Jasper now. "With him. He didn't say anything about throwing me out, did he?" he whispered.
Basil shook his head. "Not you. If he's not making us leave, why would he make you leave?"
"What do you mean?" Rowena asked.
Sighing, Helga said, "Look, he's using you for something, Rowena, and I don't like it. But we're not going along with it and I think the best thing to do is just refuse to provide information."
Rowena, surprisingly, shrugged. "Well, I don't see that he has much choice -- I suppose if you two leave, I will, but I'd rather not. We've got to have a patron, and I can't afford to be it."
"He's using you, though," said Helga. "That doesn't bother you at all?"
She shook her head.
"Not even a little bit?"
"No," said Rowena.
"We don't even know what it's for," put in Basil, a bit loudly; Helga hissed at him to be quiet.
"Of course we do," Rowena said. "He wants to be Chief of the Council."
"Well, yes," said Helga, "but specifics would be nice."
"Wait," said Godric. "I think you sort of lost me around the part where you were being used."
"We are," said Helga. "Including you. All of us. I mean, he's got his trees from me, so he'd better treat me well, but you, Godric, he was asking about you too."
"Interrogating, more like," said Basil.
Godric frowned. "But he's not making me leave?"
Helga sighed, and shook her head. "Never mind, Runty."
"But he's not?"
"No, he's not," said Helga, rolling her eyes. "But that's not the point. You should leave. What if he wants you for some weird political thing that you don't want to do?"
"Well, like what?" Godric asked. "I mean, he's paying to feed me -- which nobody's ever wanted to do, and I don't blame them -- I get somewhere to sleep, and I get access to books! Lots of them. I'm not going to complain. He could make me carry boxes all day and I'd still be really pleased. Books and candles," he added. "Do you know what it's like not to have candles?"
"You say that now but look," said Basil, "when I was in the Hunters' Guild they used to send inconveniently useless or curious or mad hunters on special missions, which invariably involved being ambushed by vampires or werewolves and bitten. It was just to ensure that there would always be something for the rest of them to hunt. What if it's something like that?" he asked. "Or, or! He does potions, right, but he's got no magic --"
"He hasn't got no magic," snapped Rowena. "His sister was a Squib, but he's got magic. He just hasn't got much --"
"So he's got not much magic," Basil continued, "and you have loads!" He gestured expansively. "And what if he could take a potion that could give him loads of magic, only what he has to do is take you apart to see how magic works?"
"That wouldn't work," said Rowena, rolling her eyes.
"So let me get this straight," said Godric. "My hypothetical choice is between slow miserable starvation, in a place where probably everyone is terrified of me and there are no books. Or! Being warm, and provided with the sort of luxuries most scholars can only dream of, and having friends, and also, possibly, being murdered?"
"...Well, when you put it like that, the murder plan does sound pretty good," said Basil. "I'd take murder, actually."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Godric. "I'd take him for all I could! And run away at the first whiff of imminent murder, of course --"
"Of course," Basil agreed, seeing the sense in this.
"-- but I'd be a lot better off. Anyone with that nonsensical a plan can't have thought out his murdering very well."
Rowena snorted, despite the topic of conversation. "He's got a point, you know. Murder is surprisingly difficult to pull off. I mean, so I've heard."
"As amusing as the tangent was," said Helga, "the point is, we don't know what you lot are in for, and I just don't think that's acceptable."
"Why not?" Rowena asked. "It's how everything else works."
"No it's not," said Helga. "I mean, he could want you as a hostage. He could want me as a hostage -- and I owe it to my previous customers not to be so easily compromised."
"Well, you obviously already have been, if you thought the man was offering us a castle out of the goodness of his heart," Rowena said. "This is how reality works. Anyone who does something for you wants something out of it."
"Oh, you're one to talk about reality, Rowena," said Helga. "Have you ever actually had to work?"
"Well, no, but --"
"And what do you want us for, dare I ask?" she added. "What do you think I wanted to use you for?"
"Oh come on, without me no one would have heard of you," snapped Rowena, losing her temper. "You're just some witch's bastard daughter who's good with plants, but you grew up with me, so you met my mum, and of course everyone wants their carnivorous plants done by the Chief's security herbologist."
Helga took a deep breath. "Well. I see you're getting to be just as bad as her, aren't you?" Then she left.
"You come back here and repeat that!" shouted Rowena, but Helga didn't even acknowledge her words.
Basil looked at his wife. He shook his head, then glared back at Rowena. "Now look at what you've done." Then he dashed after Helga.
As they stalked off, Godric frowned at his plate. "I don't think that went very well at all."
"Shut up," she said bitterly. "Fat lot of good you did."
He decided he'd better not remind her that he'd defended her. "You don't think she'll actually leave, do you?" he asked worriedly. If she did, he'd be all alone in the castle among people he didn't know very well, except for Rowena, who was usually an enemy.
She glared. "Of course she won't. She'd never leave here. She's my best friend, after all. Just a bit ill-tempered at times. She'll come to her senses. Helena, what are you staring at?" she snapped suddenly. "Finish what's on your plate! There are starving Muggle children, you know."
"Why don't we send them some food?" Helena grumbled.
"Because they're... they're too far away," Rowena snapped in frustration. "It'd be impractical. I don't know. Just do what I say."
Godric wondered if she'd actually heard any of the things she'd just said.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" she demanded.
"Nothing!" he said. "I'm not looking at you like anything."
She simply glared, apparently content to disbelieve him.
* * *
Her classes were going well, but Rowena felt like the castle was full of enemies. There was Godric, of course, who presented very little threat, although she suspected that he was perhaps a bit more intelligent than she'd been giving him credit for. But now she couldn't be certain of Helga, who had not left, but was apparently too busy to apologize. Basil, of course, didn't matter much to her -- they'd never really got along much, anyway -- but he seemed more hostile than usual lately. She thought that she'd be able to take him in a duel, but then, she rarely met people whom she considered capable of besting her.
She'd withdrawn into the company of Lord Salazar and Jasper, who were nice enough, she supposed, but Jasper was almost childish in his self-assurance -- unlike herself, he had very little reason to suppose himself particularly clever, although he had designed the castle -- and Lord Salazar gave the impression of waiting patiently. What he was waiting for, she couldn't tell, but she had a feeling he wasn't about explain himself further.
One rather drizzly day, long after she'd tired of discussing magical theory with Jasper, Rowena decided that she'd had enough of social interaction for the day -- she sometimes wondered if maybe she wasn't very good at it -- and had gone in search of something she could read without being asked to think.
Wandering to a room she'd set aside as a library, though at the moment all it contained was her small private collection of books, Rowena swung open the heavy door, glad of the privacy it would offer. But, to her dismay, there were people there. Namely, Helga, Basil, and Godric. They looked up -- Godric giving a small, acknowledging nod, curse him -- and Rowena turned and walked away quickly, letting the door slam shut.
Resisting the urge to run, she stalked back to the Blue Common Room, stomping up the stairs to her bedroom at the top of the tower.
There she found Helena, sitting in the middle of her bed, finishing off Rowena's cache of sweets; the one that no one was supposed to know about. "Oh," said Helena, sounding surprised. She hid the jar behind her, and smiled quaveringly at Rowena. "Hullo, Mum."
"Helena, get out of here!" she snapped.
Knowing her mother too well to argue, Helena rolled off the bed quickly and ran out of the room. Rowena knew she was hiding just beyond it, but she didn't care. She looked again at the empty and abandoned jar, which had been filled with enchanted marzipan dragons that spat cinnamon. It would've been nice to withdraw to some more comfortable spot and finish them off herself, but Helena had ruined that guilty pleasure for her. Grumbling, she waved her wand at a spot on the floor, and watched as the spiral staircase slid out.
Ascending the staircase and unlocking the trapdoor, she stepped out into the rain. This was the very top of the tower, and as she looked down at the rest of the castle she could see the whole of the school grounds. She didn't care how wet and miserable it was anymore. She had every right to be wet and miserable along with the rest of the world, and at least the rain made everything smell nice.
* * *
Helena listened from outside the door, concerned. Mum had her mad fits; it was true, but that only meant that Helena had to keep her from doing anything stupid. When she stopped hearing cursing and muttering and stomping from the room, she pushed open the door, slowly, and peered in.
There was no one there, but the stairway to the trapdoor was extended. Helena knew where that led, as she remembered her mother showing it to her after her first day at the school. You can see everything from here, she'd said. If anyone attacked, you and I would be the first people to know. It hadn't turned out to be true, Helena reflected, but, of course, her mum had had no way of knowing that. After that, she'd said, You have to promise me, Helena, never to come out here alone. All right?
And Helena, with no intention of keeping this promise, had nodded and said, Of course, Mum.
Good girl, her mother had said, patting her on the back. I don't want you to fall off.
Biting her lip, Helena went back into her mother's bedroom. She'd been behaving more and more unpredictably since her argument with Aunt Helga, and Helena had always worried for her health. That was one reason she'd eaten the marzipan dragons -- Mum had always said that too much sugar was bad for little girls, but, if it was, then it must be just as bad for grown-ups, Helena reasoned. Of course, Mum always said to other people that she didn't like sweets, but she thought she could tell when Mum was lying and when she wasn't.
But there were more important things than sweets at stake, Helena decided. Picking her way up the staircase, she tried to push open the trapdoor. It didn't open.
Saying a few rude words she'd learned from her mother, she pushed against the trapdoor with more force. It still wouldn't open, and by now she was getting worried. Light flashed across the room from the slit windows, and she jumped when she heard the thunder.
She had to find somebody to open the door.
* * *
Re-locking the trapdoor with her wand, Rowena walked to the edge and peered down through the battlements at the very long drop. Even Rowena, who had never been afraid of heights, had to shiver at the thought of experiencing it. She backed away quickly and looked up at the sky.
There was a blinding flash of light, and a crash of thunder soon followed it. "Brilliant," she muttered, looking defiantly up at the black clouds. When she had been little, her mother had insisted this meant that Zeus was upset with Rowena for not doing what her mother had said. "Oh, shut up!" she shouted. "You lot aren't even real, are you? Go ahead -- show me you're there! I dare you. I'm not afraid of a lot of stories!"
The next flash of lightning brought her to her senses a bit. Shouting at the gods was either useless or an exercise in stupidity, and she didn't want to be accused of doing something that was either one. Sitting on the floor next to a battlement, she recalled the way she'd acted in the library. They were in my territory, with my books, she thought.
But then another voice countered, Yes, but I'd given it to the school. I knew students would be using those books and getting their grubby little hands all over them. If they can use it, why can't the teachers?
She really had no reason to be angry. It wasn't as though they'd done anything wrong. Well, they might have done it to upset her -- perhaps they were plotting against her -- who knew? They could have been talking about her behind her back, spreading poisonous lies -- anything!
That didn't mean she had a right to deny them reading material, though. Besides, they might have been talking innocently about anything. Why would they care what she was doing? None of them gave a damn about her, anyway. Now thoroughly soaked and feeling very silly, she sighed and considered going back downstairs. She decided that she had better find some dry clothes before dinner, so as not to humiliate herself.
Wham! The trapdoor flew open of its own accord, and, as Rowena jumped back to watch, an arm emerged and grabbed the edge of the door. Then Godric squeezed through the opening. Getting to his feet, he closed the door again. "Exactly what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, looming over her. He seemed to have perfected the art of looming, and so Rowena found herself stepping back to the edge of the tower.
"I -- I came up here to think," she said, as lightning crackled above them.
"Do you know how dangerous this is?" he demanded. He looked away for a moment, then shuddered; Rowena noticed how careful he was to stay as close to the center and as far from the edge as possible.
"It's not all that bad," she said weakly.
"Oh no, because standing on the top of a tower in the middle of a thunderstorm's not dangerous at all!" he shouted.
She shrank back, cringing. She knew it was Godric, only Godric, but he was shouting at her and there was thunder and she was cold. She shivered, and backed away some more.
He dropped to his knees. "Rowena, are you all right?" he asked, sounding more worried than angry.
She shook her head, silently. Had she been in a better mood, she might have snapped, That's a bloody stupid question, but right now she didn't even want to speak.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to frighten you like that." He reached out to touch her arm, but she drew away.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, glaring at him.
"Rowena, come on," he pleaded. "Helena was in hysterics, she thought you were going to jump."
She blinked. "Why in Hades would I want to do that?" she asked.
He shrugged. "It's been known to happen sometimes. Jasper says his aunt --"
"Well," she said, "I wouldn't do it. I'm not stupid, after all."
"Rowena, it's the middle of a thunderstorm, you're on a tower, and you were screaming at the sky earlier. We all heard you. What exactly were you going to do next?"
She glared at him again. "Certainly not jump," she muttered. "For your information, I was just getting ready to come back down when you barged in."
Godric pulled the trapdoor open again. "Ladies first, then," he said grumpily, moving out of her way. He was still on his hands and knees.
Rowena made her way through the trapdoor and down the stairs again, then shut the door behind her and locked it with a charm. Serves him right, frightening me like that, she thought viciously, knowing that lighting usually struck the tallest thing in the area. She hoped it got him. Wringing out a corner of her dress, she continued, dripping, down the stairs. She stared at Helga and Basil, who were waiting there, Helena clutching Helga's hand.
At the sight of her mother, Helena sprang away from Helga and stood apart from her, eyes downcast. Helga, meanwhile, simply stared at Rowena. Basil crossed his arms.
"She was crying," he said, not kindly. Helena made no move to acknowledge his words, but she did sniffle a bit.
"Well?" asked Helga.
Suddenly, Helena looked up. "I'm sorry Mummy, I didn't mean to make you angry," she said very quickly. Then she bit her lip.
Rowena rushed forward and took Helena in her arms. "It's all right," she said, hugging her, and probably making her very wet in the process. "It's all right. I would never do that," she said. "I wouldn't. I'd never do that to you, not if I could help it. And it wasn't your fault, either. You think I'd do that just because you ate all my marzipan?" she asked, with a small, half-hearted smile.
She felt Helena shake her head, but all she heard her say was, "I was worried."
"Shh," whispered Rowena. "It's all right now."
There was a huge crash from behind them, and Rowena looked over her shoulder to see what it was. Godric jumped down from an opening, as rain drizzled down onto the remains of the trapdoor. "For God's sake, Rowena, don't leave me up there!" he shouted. "You know I don't like heights!" He was pale, shivering, and drenched, which was probably why he was not nearly as imposing as he'd been.
"Come on, Runty, and let her change," she heard Helga say, and Godric, dripping, walked past her. "Rowena?" Helga asked.
Rowena looked back at her.
"If you scare us like that again," said Helga levelly, "I guarantee you that one of us -- possibly me, since Godric hasn't the heart -- will strangle you with their bare hands. So don't do it."
Rowena nodded, irritable but, well, a bit guilty. Helena was still clutching at her as the others filed out of the room. "Don't worry, it's all right," she told Helena. "Only you need to let go of me."
Helena released her, and sat on the floor, wiping at her eyes.
"Come and help me pick something to wear to dinner tonight," said Rowena. "And after that we can go and get more sweets from the kitchens, all right?"
Helena nodded silently. Then she spoke hesitantly. "But I don't want any more sweets."
"One generally doesn't, after an ordeal," said Rowena. "But my supply has mysteriously run out, it seems, and it must be refreshed."
This prompted a guilty grin from Helena. "All right. And... er... sorry."
"It's all right," Rowena assured her. "Sometimes I can do stupid things. It's good not to have too much pride in oneself."
Fortunately, Rowena had busied herself with digging through a trunk, for had she been looking at Helena, she would have noticed her very skeptical look.
Chapter 10