The Founders Four

The Promise

Helga just stared in shock, unsure if she'd heard correctly. Godric had just explained everything Lord Schreiver had told him. She felt a mixture of feelings all at once, which confused her. She was happy that Godric had discovered his true identity but, when he told her he was leaving for a while, she felt her heart plummet. He was as good as a brother as far as she was concerned and losing him after all this time would tear her apart.

"You're going to Fin - er...?"

"Finland, yes," he replied, staring apprehensively at her.

"Oh..." she muttered, failing to hide her disappointment. "How long will you be gone for?"

"I don't know," he said, feeling nervous. "But I have to do this. You understand, don't you?"

"Oh, Godric, of course I do," she smiled weakly. "I know that, if I were in your shoes, I'd want to find out all I could about my family. You should go. It's just that I'll miss you."

"And I you!" He beamed. "You'll always be my little sister," he smiled, placing his hand beneath her chin and staring fondly down at her. He tried to assure himself that this wouldn't be the last time he looked upon this pretty face, with freckles dotted lightly across her nose.

"But what will happen?"

"You mean the search for us?" He asked knowingly. She nodded worriedly, biting her lip. "You'll be safe up here," he assured her. "Lord Schreiver has promised me you'll be kept hidden."

"But what about you?"

"I doubt the king's guards will be searching for me all the way over in Finland!" He chuckled.

She smiled weakly but it soon faded.

"You're scared?" He asked seriously.

"Terrified," she said honestly, her stomach churning uncomfortably.

"Don't be."

"But it'll feel strange if we split up now," she said quietly.

"I know," he nodded, feeling extremely guilty about leaving her.

The door to the cold and dim drawing room suddenly swung open and Polly entered, wearing a thick cloak that almost touched the ground. She passed two more cloaks each to Godric and Helga, causing them to look up at her in puzzlement.

"Come on," she urged. "We're going down into the village."

"What for?" Helga asked, pulling the cloak around her shoulders nonetheless.

"Well, Lord Schreiver thinks it will be unsafe for you to stay here at the castle. He suggests you stay with a lady down in the village. She's ever so nice!" She beamed.

"But..." Helga began, looking up at Godric anxiously.

"Who is this woman?" He asked. "How do we know Helga will be safe with her?"

"She's a witch!" She said, as though this was blatantly obvious. "So you'll be able to practice all the magic you wish!"

"Oh..." Helga murmured, looking a little more reassured by this.

"Coming?" Godric asked.

She nodded and followed them from the room.

*

Rowena smiled to herself as she looked down at the aged pages before her, running her long fingers over the spidery words. She had been studying the spells in great detail but, as Salazar had requested, she had not yet put any of them to practical use.

The door suddenly burst open, making her jump. She hastily tapped the book with her fingertip and the words vanished. She pushed the book forcefully beneath her bed and turned to face the doorway, hoping she'd adopted a casual expression.

Luckily her father, who'd just barged into the room unannounced, looked in too much of a rage to notice what she'd been up to prior to his arrival.

"Unbelievable, the whole family!"

"What is it, father?" She asked.

He gave her a meaningful stare, as though trying to impress upon her how bad the news he had actually was.

"It's prince Edmund," he grunted. "It seems his leave had been extended a lot longer than we expected!"

"What do you mean?" She asked, waiting with baited breath.

"As you know, he's been fighting valiantly for his country for some time now and, where the original time scale he was meant to be at war for was three years, it has now extended to a little over five."

Rowena's heart lifted and she suddenly felt like she'd been given the largest gift of hope she could ever have wished for. She didn't know what this would mean to her exactly or how she'd escape the inevitable marriage that faced her. Then her mind suddenly rested upon the heavy book that lay beneath her bed and, with one wild moment of thought, she considered that once she'd mastered the magic contained within she could somehow escape her life of entrapment and live a new, happier one.

"...Pompous old fool!" Her father was muttering. "Sent me the letter this morning! Just assumes we can rearrange our plans after you've been promised to each other. Well, I revolve around no one!"

"Of course not, father," she muttered.

"But there's no way I can push the wedding forwards. His parents may reconsider the marriage if I try to suggest he abandon his duties as prince, especially when it comes to war," he added, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, my daughter, but your grand wedding will have to wait."

"Oh," she said, trying very hard not to sound elated at this news. "I can wait, father. Love grows with absence, as they say."

"You are a good girl," he smiled, brushing her cheek with a large, beefy hand.

She watched him leaving the room and couldn't help but smile to herself.

*

As Godric and Helga followed Polly along a wide dirt track through a tunnel of tall fir trees, Godric vaguely remembered coming this way once or twice when he had to help deliver goods to the marketplace. They soon emerged into the village square, where a few empty stalls stood, abandoned because of the cold weather. The little thatched buildings bore nothing of the grandeur Godric had seen at either Schreiver's of Hufflepuff's castle, which made him realise how lucky he'd been to see all this now.

"It's just down here," Polly informed them, continuing along the almost indistinguishable path that led through the village.

They emerged onto another, narrower dirt track, which led up a hill and towards a rickety and weatherworn building. An inviting ribbon of smoke was unfurling its way out of a stone chimney at the side of the building, indicating that someone was currently inside. Helga exchanged a nervous glance with Godric as Polly knocked loudly upon the heavy wooden door.

They jumped as a small peephole in the door was slid open and a bright blue eye peered suspiciously through.

"What you want?" Came an elderly Scottish voice, that of a woman.

"Alexis Dumbledore?" Polly asked apprehensively.

"Aye, who wants to know?" She demanded, her eyes narrowing again.

"Lord Schreiver sent you a message earlier today..."

"Oh..." She murmured, considering them for a moment.

Her eye suddenly disappeared and they heard many locks being unbolted from within. A moment later the door flew open and a stumpy witch with flyaway auburn hair, slightly greying near the front, stood in the doorway. She surveyed them with those astonishingly blue eyes, her pointy nose rather prominent. She looked rather grubby and her clothes, much like her hair, looked unkempt, as though she didn't have much time for personal hygiene.

"Are you the girl then?" She demanded of Polly.

"No, that'd be Helga," she replied, indicating her.

"It's nice to meet you," she smiled, her eyes showing a warmth Godric had not expected.

"It's nice to meet you too," Helga said awkwardly.

"That's a strange accent you've got there," she commented. "Where are you from?"

"Ireland."

"Interesting," she muttered, looking her up and down for a moment. "And you would be...?"

"Godric Gryffindor," he replied, inclining his head politely.

"Ah, of course," she said knowingly. Godric suspected the letter Lord Schreiver had sent to this woman had been rather descriptive. "Well, come inside then!" She insisted, beckoning them across the threshold.

As they entered the darkened kitchen area a mixture of strange smells met their noses. Godric noticed a large black cauldron in the corner of the room, which was issuing silvery sheets of steam as the concoction contained within bubbled away lazily.

"You're the one responsible for Helga, I take it?" Alexis asked Godric.

"Er...yes."

"Well," she said. "I can't offer much luxury in the way of living quarters," she explained. "But this little place is a bit more comfortable than some abodes I could mention in this village," she muttered, raising her eyebrows. "She'll have to pull her weight, mind...in return for my teachings."

"Teachings?" Helga piped up.

"Yes, I shall be teaching you magic," she said simply.

Helga smiled at this, looking pleased with at least one arrangement.

"Understandable," Godric nodded, feeling as though he was selling Helga as a slave.

"She'll get three square meals a day and, if ever I get anyone knocking, I'll account her as family...or hide her if I have to," she added.

They were all distracted as a tall figure came clattering into the room through the door to the back of the little house, dropping a number of strange instruments as he did so. Once he'd collected his items and stood up straight again they could see that he was a tall young man, probably in his mid-twenties, with dark hair. He had the same astonishingly blue eyes as Alexis and the same prominent nose. He was rather gangly with high cheekbones and long fingers, which were clutched tightly around a corked bottle of amber liquid.

"Oh, don't mind my son, Hubert," Alexis said dismissively. "Be careful with those!" She warned him.

"Yes, sorry," he said exasperatedly. "Er...hello," he smiled, swiftly inclining his head before clumsily crossing the room and ascending a rickety flight of narrow stairs at the side of the room.

"I assure you she'll be quite safe here," she told Godric seriously.

"I feel she will," he said, somehow knowing this woman would care for her deeply. "What do you think, Helga?"

She looked up reproachfully at Godric and smiled a sad smile. She slowly nodded, tears coming to her eyes.

"Don't cry," he said gently, putting an arm around her for comfort. "I'll be back before you know it! Hey," he said, pulling a crumpled lot of material from the inside of his cloak. "I'll be back for this."

She took it from him and, unfolding it, realised it was the hat she'd given to him for his birthday. She smiled weakly, her lip trembling, and threw her arms around him so that they were locked in a tight hug. He hugged her back just as strongly, his heart sinking at the prospect of leaving her.

"Take care," he whispered.

"And you."

"Godric," Polly said quietly, looking uncomfortable about interrupting their emotional farewell. "A coach will be waiting to take you to the docks up at the castle."

"Right," he said, sniffing loudly. He broke away from Helga and smiled at Alexis, who was staring at them both in sympathy.

"Thank you, Ms. Dumbledore," he said gratefully.

"I hope you find what you're looking for, my boy," she said, placing an ageing hand upon his shoulder. The way she stared at him made him feel like she could see into his very soul.

He just smiled weakly and followed Polly back outside, the feeling of loss making it too unbearable to turn around and look at Helga one more time.

*

"There you are!" Arthur called, beaming as Salazar clambered out of the coach that had brought him home. "You got the book to her?"

"Yes," he smiled.

"Good, good!"

Salazar followed him inside, savouring the warmth of the entrance hall.

"Will you be ready to leave by this evening?" Arthur asked him.

"I should think so," he replied, feeling his heart plummet.

His uncle had arranged for him to stay with an old family friend whilst he was away from his duties. This was mainly because this man knew more about magic, many kinds, than Arthur did and it was felt that Salazar would greatly benefit from him. He was eager to learn, of course, but leaving his old home once more would be painful.

"Right, sit yourself down and we'll toast the journey you're about to take, m'boy!" He chuckled, leading him into the drawing room and indicating one of the squashy armchairs. "I'll go and see if we have anything stronger than mulled wine," he winked, before leaving the room.

Salazar smiled to himself as he watched the flames in the hearth flicker and dance. He jumped as he heard the door open again.

"Oh, Belle," he said in surprise. He stared at her intently, remembering the last time he'd seen her, when they hadn't actually had the chance to talk.

She stood awkwardly near the door, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Hello, Salazar," she said quietly.

"I've missed you," he said, feeling as though he'd forgotten her beauty in the time that had passed.

"And I you," she breathed, after a long silence.

"Come closer," he urged.

She slowly drifted across the room, eventually looking into his eyes.

"What is it?" He asked, noticing her sad expression.

"You're leaving again," she murmured, staring at the ground.

He took her hands, which were frightfully cold, and stood up so that he was a head taller than her.

"I'll be back, you know that," he said gently.

"Yes, you come back but I...I..." She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Yes?" He urged.

"Well, I wish you'd stay for a while. I long to see you for more than a fleeting moment!" She said quickly, her voice wobbling.

"I wish it could be that way too and, one day, it will be," he assured her. His eyes suddenly caught something sparkling around the neckline of her dress, glistening against the pale skin of her chest. "You're wearing the locket I gave you."

"I never take it off," she told him, running the delicate chain through her fingers.

He leant forwards and kissed her gently on the lips, making her freeze in shock. He broke away and stared meaningfully into her bright eyes, as though swearing he wouldn't forget her. They jumped as Arthur suddenly burst into the room.

"Oh," he said awkwardly, seeing them standing so close together. He cleared his throat loudly. "Sorry to interrupt."

"Oh, you didn't, Sir," Belle said quickly, flushing red with embarrassment. She hastily left the room, throwing Salazar a look of longing before she walked through the door.

"Diamond in the rough, that one," Arthur said to Salazar, winking as he poured two glasses of a strange amber liquid.

"I know," he murmured, staring after her.

*

"This is it," Polly said. "Are you scared?"

"I don't know," Godric replied uncertainly, as they both stared up at the coach that would take him to the docks. "I long to find out about my family but I hate to leave."

"But it's not forever," she pointed out.

He grinned widely and then pulled something out of his cloak pocket, which was wrapped up in a small amount of material. Polly watched in puzzlement as he unravelled it and then her eyes lit up as a pressed flower was revealed, its red and orange petals still perfectly preserved.

"Remember this?" He asked her.

"Of course!" She grinned. "The flower I gave you when you left for Ireland! You kept it all these years?"

"It helped me remember," he smiled. "Here, so that you can remember me," he added, wrapping it back up and handing it to her.

"No," she said, pushing it back towards him. "I won't need to remember you because you'll soon be back. You take it."

He smiled and pocketed it.

"You'd better go, don't want to miss the ship," she urged. "Good luck, Godric," she smiled, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him gently on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Polly," he waved, before climbing into the carriage.

He stared up at the tall turrets and towers of Lord Schreiver's castle as the coach made its way down the dirt track towards the gates, hoping that it wouldn't be long until he returned.