The Day of Reckoning
Beautiful new image by (sol) @ tda
On the day that Helga’s dream ended, Salazar left the school. It was a bitterly cold afternoon, and the wind howled along the empty corridors. It was like a crypt. The students looked blank and uninspired, tired with the end of the day, reduced to flitting around like ghosts. The teachers kept their heads down, not daring to look the formidable Salazar Slytherin in the eye as he stamped his way towards the Founders Meetings.
For some unknown reason, Salazar had awoken early that morning in a biting mood, even snapping at Bonne as she tried to greet him. He had apologised after as he knew it was not her that was causing his discontent. In reality, it was this Founders Meeting. It was the first to be held after Adrian’s death and he knew the weight of guilt and unsaid fears had weighed on his shoulders all day.
On arrival, he discovered that he was the third Founder to arrive, and he was two minutes early. It was clear that the others present were trying to avoid an argument. Helga sat at her usual seat, looking determinedly at her hands, which were reddening as she wrung them. Rowena sat opposite her, a stack of papers in front of her. They were laws, and essays to mark, and Alban accounts. They were everything she had that would be successful in distracting her from the undercurrent of grief.
On his arrival, Rowena gave him a brief smile of greeting, and then went back to her paperwork, her scratching quill the only sound in the little room. Salazar took his seat, and pulled his wand from his belt, carefully twirling it in his fingers. It felt warm in his hand, and nobody commented on his actions, so he continued to do it. He knew it could be seen as a threatening gesture.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Rowena continued to write hurriedly, not daring to lift her pretty head for twenty whole minutes. The tension was gradually building, and Salazar could feel the knot tightening in his stomach. Adrian’s empty seat drew Salazar’s eyes towards it, but he tried to look away. Godric’s entrance was so widely anticipated; it seemed so much had happened in such a short space of time. Ignotus and Coventina had fled after all, fearful of the reprisals from Adrian’s death.
The door burst open, and Godric appeared dressed in all the regalia of his position. He had a silken tunic, silken stockings, with ermine embroidering his thick cloak. Harlequin colours decorated his outfit, but red and gold defined him most clearly. His lion emblem had been carefully embroidered onto his cloak, and the ruby rings on his fingers caught the light as he strode into the room.
The sight of him disgusted Salazar.
Gone was the genuine warm man who had been his best friend, his trusted ally, his brother even on their adventures. Gone was the excitable, chivalrous youth who did not have a care in the world. In his place stood a middle aged man who had expanded round the middle and now styled his hair. The power had gone to his head, and the love of a woman who was all too willing to give him everything he desired had glutted him on wealth. Her black love had corrupted him.
“You’re late,” said Salazar tersely, trying not the let his annoyance overcome him, but Godric seemed to ignore him as he sat down in his ordinary seat. His green eyes lingered briefly on Adrian’s empty chair, but then he began to talk loudly, not daring to look at Helga, who had clearly see his quick gaze towards the ominous presence of Adrian’s absence.
“What’s on the agenda then this afternoon,” asked Godric hurriedly, turning to Rowena so he could look away from the elephant in the room. She acted quickly, rummaging through her piles of parchment until she brought out the immaculate sheet that she always prepared for these meetings. Today, there were only a few points. It was clear she did not want to stay long.
“The first item is the budget for the school this year,” she said, wrinkling her nose ever so slightly, “we need to discuss what percent of the Alban budget should go to the school.” In normal years, it had been 10 percent. This went towards upkeep of the castle, hiring the teachers, looking after the students, the inevitable search for pupils and the never ending defence of the castle. Salazar thought he saw Helga opening her mouth to offer the suggestion of “ten percent again” but Godric trammelled over her.
“It needs to be reduced,” he said authoritatively, “we cannot keep spending lavish sums of money on the school when there is a war to fight. At the moment, only twenty-five percent of the Alban budget is going towards the war in Northumbria, it needs far more than that. I am talking thirty-five percent. We should not take the money entirely off the school, but cut the budget down to five percent. Do you all agree?”
Salazar opened his mouth instantly in anger, “you can’t do that! The school needs this money! Haven’t you realised how much this operation costs Godric? We can’t just keep throwing money at your pet project in Northumbria. You should pay for it out of your own pocket, not the royal coffers! If anything you should withdraw from Northumbria!”
Godric let out a derisive hoot of laughter before turning back to Salazar, his lip curled into a snarl. “Pull out of Northumbria?” he said incredulously, “you have no idea how important controlling Northumbria is! It will protect us indefinitely! There will be no chance of an invasion from down south with Northumbria subdued!”
“It is not helping any of us! The school will be our lasting achievement, not some meaningless military victory. We need to find more students, more books, more teachers and some of the castle is not suitable for being a school. We need to rebuild and remodel. I, for example, would like one library, not fifteen separate ones with all the books we need all over the place! And the dormitories are in terribly bad shape, we must rework them. If you reduce our budget to five percent, how can we ever improve?”
“I…” began Godric, before suddenly realising what he said and corrected himself, “Rowena has been giving this school too much money for years! It’s time we saw sense again. This school is not the be all and end all. It is just part of the services that Alba offers, and for me, the protection of Alba’s citizens is far more important!” He slammed his fist on the table in fury, but this did not intimidate Salazar, who stood up pointing an accusatory figure at Godric.
“Oh, that’s right!” Salazar shouted, “you care about Northumbria above all things! You enjoy playing generalissimo far too much! You don’t even care about the repercussions of your selfishness! You don’t care who you tread over to get what you want! Northumbria is not the most important thing! Adrian died
for your love of Northumbria, in case you have forgotten!”
Only Rowena looked over to see Helga wipe a tear out of her eye. Godric stood up, his voice furious and his green eyes burning with a fury unlike Salazar had ever seen. “How dare
you! It was you who cast the spell! It was your obsession with the dark arts that killed Adrian! You have become soulless Salazar, you have been twisted by black magic and you are a murderer and…”
Rowena had stood up, and her ferocious stare quelled them both into silence. She stood by Helga, a comforting arm round her shoulder, “Adrian’s death was a tragedy, and you should not be using it to throw mud at each other. Think at how insensitive you are being! And in case you have forgotten, I
am the Queen, and I
will choose how to spend the money!”
Salazar’s nostrils flared in quieted anger. “The school’s budget will be cut to five percent for the protection of Alba” said Rowena tersely, looking at Helga and not daring to see the expressions on either Godric or Salazar’s faces. Salazar could feel the gloating smile grow on Godric’s face, and he almost screamed at the injustice of it all.
“But…” yelled Salazar.
“No buts!” said Rowena forcefully, “it is my final decision on the matter. We must move on, the second item on the agenda is that boys have been sneaking into the girl’s dormitories and…” Salazar had heard enough. He was sick of the favouritism and Godric ruling Rowena like a puppet on a string.
So he got up and stormed out the room.
Bonne’s embroidery was coming on well. That was all she really spent her days doing, as there was not much a woman of her station could do. She thought it quite beneath herself to dabble in running the school when she had no position in authority, like Rachel did, but to undermine the school and control it subtly, that was her sort of thing.
She had just nearly finished what she was doing when Salazar burst into the room, his face reddened with fury. “I’m going to kill him,” he bellowed, “I’m going to kill him with the Basilisk! He doesn’t deserve to live; the spell I fired should have hit him not Adrian! I’m going to rip him to shreds! I’m going to destroy everything! I’ll run him through with my sword, I’ll…”
Bonne knew the time had come.
She stepped forward towards him, a concerned expression on her face. “Who?” she said, forming her words and manners perfectly to make him think she was curious, anxious and concerned about him all at the same time, “who has upset you so much Salazar to make me see you in this state?” Her voice sounded like honey, and she hoped that it would calm him, allow her to discover exactly what was wrong.
He looked around, his eyes blazing with a black fire; it was as if he could not see her. “Godric has taken everything from me! Every hope, dream and desire I have ever had he has crushed or claimed as his own. He is so selfish! I will be damned if I do not have my revenge.” Salazar was breathing heavily and pacing up and down the room in fury.
Bonne walked over to him and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. He slowed instantly, before crossing his own hand across his body to place his fingers gingerly upon hers. She knew at that moment he was totally under her control, her plan would work and today would finally be the day when the breach between Godric and Salazar was irreversible.
“I’ve got something to show you,” she said quietly, trying to make her voice tremble to pretend she was fearful and nervous, “it’s about Godric. It is very important.” Running her hand down his arm, she let go of him, and she turned and walked to her bedroom, pulling Harald’s letter out of the drawer. Salazar had padded in after her and was looking at her confusedly.
“Several years ago, you had an argument with Godric. I thought you might need some ammunition about him in case he ever got nasty. Here it is.” Bonne held out the letter, and Salazar tentatively took it. His eyes lingered on Bonne for a moment, before he gingerly opened the letter, his eyes widening as he saw who it was from.
“Harald,” he whispered gently, reading who the letter was from. Then his eyes moved from the letter to briefly look at her before he began to skim through Godric’s digressions.“Godric loved another woman apart from Rowena! Why he can’t betray her trust so cruelly! And he’s a thief; he stole that sword, that sword that he boasts about on every occasion he gets! He is unbelievable!” Salazar looked up at Bonne, tantalisingly on the edge of the secret that would push him over the edge.
“Keep reading,” commanded Bonne, her voice still as smooth as honey, an internal smile rising throughout her body as she gazed at him. Soon everything would fall into place. Soon she may even have total control over this school, and maybe even rid Alba of the influence of the proud and boastful Godric and the short sighted and haughty Rowena. If only Salazar would read the rest of the letter…
“And,” continued Salazar, “and.” He stopped still, staring at the letter his eyes so wide they looked as if they would drop out of their sockets. Bonne knew what he had just read, and she could tell that his entire life was suddenly shifting in perspective. All the lies that had been hidden were coming tumbling out.
“His mother was a Mudblood!” whispered Salazar, his voice croaking, “making him a dirty Halfblood.” It was if a kettle had suddenly reached the point of boiling. Salazar threw the letter to the ground before shouting. “He lied to me! He lied to us! He lied to Rowena! He doesn’t even deserve magic, let alone being in charge of Alba or being her
He stormed out of the room, bellowing as he went, “that little traitor. I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him!” His fingers closed round the hilt of his wand as he stormed away, marching with all the anger in his taut body. She knew he was resolved to keep to his word. Pattering after him, Bonne let out some feeble untruthful protestations, but she knew she had to let him go.
After he slammed the door shut she smiled broadly; nothing would stop her now. She returned to her bedroom and picked up the letter; what was once so valuable to her was now incriminating evidence. She strode back over to her desk, and undid the various protection spells she had used to keep Maud’s letter hidden. Bonne decided it was best to burn them both together; there was no time to waste, Rowena would be quick to blame her after all.
Pulling the drawer open, she was suddenly confronted with the emptiness of the drawer and she hissed in fury. How could her whole plan fall apart for the absence of a scrap of parchment? If someone saw that piece of paper, if someone told on her, then her dreams would be ripped apart. The realisation dawned on her slowly; the name of the traitor slowly appearing in her mind.
Her brother had sealed her doom.
The sound of his footsteps marching down the corridor heralded the end like the ticking of the clock. Now was the moment of truth; finally Godric would be exposed as the fraud and the liar he really was. It would be proved that he was undeserving of everything he had in his life; his status as the hero of the people, his position as the de facto King of Alba, the students adoration for the unofficial head teacher and the love of the most beautiful woman on the earth.
He was a Mudblood.
He was dirty, stupid and did not deserve the gifts that had been bestowed on him. This very blood made him a liar and a cheat and the fact that he had kept the truth of his clandestine birth so very close to his chest just proved his guilt. Every day of adventure and night of laughing was a lie. Godric Gryffindor no longer existed for Salazar Slytherin.
The afternoon was coming to a close; the students would be in their dormitories and common rooms, and the people he wanted to see would be together in the Great Hall, most likely talking about him and how he had “changed”. It was all lies; he had stayed true to his basic instincts and motivations from the second he had arrived and not compromised his beliefs for power and might.
He rolled his wand over in his fingers. He was prepared; if Rowena and Helga did not immediately agree with the instant expulsion of Godric from Hogwarts and Alba he was prepared to use force. No longer would he be the second best. He would triumph and would finally prove that he was the better man than Godric.
Salazar was soon at the doors leading into the Great Hall. He took a sharp intake of breath before stepping forward and blasting the doors open with an expulsion jinx. Just as he expected he saw all the people he expected huddled on the teachers table at the end of the room whispering to each other in muted tones.
Godric sat in the centre in his magnificent chair. Rowena leant on his shoulder from the seat next to him, a worried look on her beautiful face. Helga sat on Godric’s other side, her face drawn and white, and it seemed that only Rachel’s reassuring hand on her shoulder stopped her bursting into tears. Next to Rowena sat Cadmus, his eyes firmly on the former, looking at her worried facial expression in concern. To his surprise, Guillaume sat the other side of Cadmus, his head in his hands, as if he had just told them all a terrible secret, and could not bear to look at him.
They looked up simultaneously as the doors burst open. Rowena was the first to react, and she stood up instantly her midnight blue eyes on Salazar. For once, her voice seemed to be quivering with fear. “Salazar” she said meekly, sensing the fury radiating from Salazar, “we need to talk. The situation has got unbearable…”
“We don’t need to talk about anything,” interrupted Salazar, his voice laced with quiet anger, “this is between me and him
.” Godric’s emerald eyes lifted from the palms of his hands up to Salazar. He then lifted himself like a monolith off of his chair. Godric had always had a gift for intimidation, but this no longer worked on Salazar.
“This has gone too far Salazar,” said Godric authoritatively, his voice gravelly and strong, “you are compromising the core principles of Hogwarts with your blood purity nonsense. You are even violating the values and beliefs that make the Kingdom of Alba what it is; a haven for magical folk. You are going against everything I…we believe.”
“This is not what this is about, Godric,” spat Salazar, pacing backwards and forwards in front of his nemesis, not even attempting to keep his disgust secret, “this is entirely about the fact that you are a liar, and traitor and a tyrant.” Godric’s eyes clouded with confusion at these words. He really was as thick, stupid and ignorant as the rest of the Mudbloods and Muggles.
“What?” growled Godric, climbing up onto the teachers table and dropping over the other side to directly face Salazar, “you cannot accuse me of crimes like that Salazar without substantial evidence to back it up!” They began to circle each other; the other’s sitting in terrified silence, waiting to watch what would happen between the greatest wizards in the world, the two who had once been as close as brothers.
“I have plenty of evidence,” hissed Salazar, his voice rising in volume as he paced around Godric, his olive eyes not breaking from Godric’s emerald ones, “that you do not deserve anything you have in life. You do not deserve your hero status, your title, your position in this school or her
you filthy little mudblood!”
There was a collective intake of breath from those who were watching, everyone except Guillaume. Rowena was the first to speak, and she stammered as the revelation poured over her, “is…is…is…it true Godric?” His eyes briefly flickered to Rowena, but he then continued to circle Salazar, and animalistic fury on his face.
“So what if it is true?” he spat, flinging his arms wide, the echo of a derisive laugh on his tongue, “so what if my mother is a Muggleborn?” He pointed at his chest in anger, right to his heart, “It does not make me a different person! I am still the man who was once your best friend, once like a brother to you!”
“You were never a brother to me you traitor!” bellowed Salazar, his composure finally breaking, “you have taken everything from me! You took my glory at the Battle of Alba, you claimed you saved Alba when it was me who planned everything, me who told you what to do! You’ve prevented my dream for this school and you took her
The cold silence that descended was one of realisation. Godric’s face flushed red and he turned to look briefly at Rowena. Turning back, his face lit up with cruel laughter, “Rowena? You seriously think Rowena would have ever
wanted you when there was me! She’s always loved me
, and you
never had a hope in hell of getting her!”
Rowena had walked around the table, her eyes brimming with tears, and Salazar pointed at her furiously, “Something could have happened, Rowena kissed me! It could have been more if it wasn’t for you! If you had not been in the way she would have been mine
!” Godric turned his head to Rowena, his argument totally defeated and his face crimsoning from her betrayal.
“You kissed him!” he whispered, his voice getting louder with every word, “when, when did this happen?” Godric was incandescent, and Rowena rushed forward to touch him, to comfort him and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he slapped her hand away. “You did, didn’t you? You’ve let me believe you loved me exclusively all these years!”
“It was one time!” cried Rowena in despair, desperately trying to hold onto Godric, so he could not leave her, but he continued to push her away, “it was the day of the Battle of Alba. I was terrified; I thought I was going to have to leave you! I thought Harald would tear you away from me for good! Salazar was just there; he was a comfort to me. It meant nothing!”
“Nothing!” screeched Salazar, turning on her, all the feelings of rejection and inadequacy rushing to the surface after so many years, “yet you still took my locket! You still took the token of my love and have never returned it to me! Admit it Rowena, you are harbouring something within your heart for me!”
Everyone looked down at the locket around Rowena’s neck. Godric had never known where she had got it from, and now everything made sense. The locket bore the letter “S”, and it seemed to be a sign that Rowena was Salazar’s possession. Salazar could see it dawning in Godric’s eyes; he had never been the exclusive recipient of Rowena’s love, as she was a two man woman. Rowena crumpled in on herself, burying her head in her hands in shame.
“Who…” began Godric slowly, his red cheeks washed with his own tears, “which way do you chose!” Godric continued forcefully, attempting to divert the subject to hide his misery and shame. “Which image of Alba do you chose? Which school do you wish to be a part of?” he bellowed at Rowena, who persistently hid her face, “Mine or his!”
Her midnight blue eyes flicked between them, turning first to Godric who was glaring at her furiously with the sense of utter betrayal, and then to Salazar who gazed at her imploringly, as if he still had some hope. Her eyes were full of sadness; her heart was clearly being torn in two. It was striking midnight and she had to chose; her friend or her lover.
Her fingers closed round the locket, Bess’ locket, around her neck. She gave it a small tug and it came loose from her neck. Walking slowly towards Salazar, she opened her palm, gesturing to return the token of his love to him at last. “I’m sorry Salazar,” she sobbed breathlessly, “I cannot support your dream.”
His hand briefly brushed hers as he took back the locket. It dawned on him that that would be the last time he would ever touch her. He tried not to cry as he stowed the locket in his robes, but the minute it disappeared from sight he heard the steady beat of cruel laughter. Godric was laughing at him.
“I told you,” spat Godric, drawing up to his full majestic height, “she hates you for your views on the world, the views of blood purity which we will not allow to taint our vision of this school! You are…” Salazar had heard enough, and he acted so fast that Godric did not have time to react and defend himself as Salazar had already cast the spell from his wand.
Godric fell to the floor and screamed in pain. Salazar knew the effect; it would feel as if his bones were on fire and Salazar suddenly felt malicious pleasure wash over his body. This is what happened to people who crossed him. This was the only fate for stinking Mudbloods like Godric. The next step was death.
Godric was writhing on the floor and shrieking in pain, and the sadistic pleasure washed over Salazar. “Stop it!” shrieked a female voice, but to Salazar’s surprise it was not Rowena. Helga had stood up and her face was red with emotion. “Stop it right now!” Salazar knew he had to gain Helga’s allegiance; if he did there would be a small glimmer of hope that he would maintain his position at Hogwarts. Salazar followed Helga’s instruction as Rowena dropped to her knees to attend to Godric.
“Helga,” boomed Salazar, his voice ominous, “remember who encouraged your dream. It was me! These two were the last ones to agree with your plan! Without me, this school would just be an idea in your head! You need to remain loyal to the friend who has never belittled you the way these two have! You and I are in the same position!”
Rowena spoke next, her voice awash with tears, “Don’t listen to him Helga! He has been manipulated by Bonne! He is not the friend to you that he once was! He is not the man who is encouraging your dreams, he will ruin them forever!” Salazar suddenly cast a silencing spell at her, and stepped closer to Helga.
“Remember what you said to me, that night I found you alone in the library. You said that Rowena thought of you as nothing more than her handmaiden! She still sees you that way Helga! They both do! Nothing has changed; they will always put themselves above us as we are the commoners! They will forever be our superiors in their eyes. Please, Helga, come with me.”
Salazar extended his hand to Helga, praying she would take it. Rowena and Godric looked up at her, worried looks on their pale faces. Did Helga really believe they thought so little of her? The future of the school hung on her decision. “Salazar,” said Helga resolutely, “you’ve gone too far. While it is true that both mine and your ideas are often trammelled over, your ideas are dangerous and will damage this school forever!”
That was it; he knew he had no friends. The cold eyes of Cadmus, Rachel and Guillaume stared at him; they clearly wanted him to leave. “I think,” began Helga, her voice suddenly quivering, “you can find it in your heart to come back to us Salazar. Bonne does not need to control you this way; think of what you once believed in. Think of how you felt before your judgement got clouded by your passion for Rowena.”
Salazar’s fury came to a sudden head, “I am my own person!” he bellowed, “and I can do whatever I please without someone telling me what I should believe or feel! I have not been corrupted by her the way Godric has!” He lifted his wand, ready to blast Rowena away from Godric, to make sure they could never be together again. “This school is mine!” roared Salazar, “as is Alba, and as are you
It happened so quickly that Salazar had little time to breathe. Godric reached his wand that was tied to his belt and withdrawing it, he disarmed Salazar without so much as a twitch. Salazar’s wand soared across the room and he roared in anger as Godric staggered to his feet. Salazar was sure he could do it; he was sure he could torture Godric without using his wand.
Godric fell back again in pain, and he let out a scream of agony. There were shouts of protest from the others, but Salazar ignored them. His anger, fury and pain poured out of his body and through his hands, directly at Godric. It was almost a relief after keeping them locked away inside his heart for so many years.
Godric managed to roll out of the way of Salazar’s curse and he lifted his own wand. Rowena tried to run towards him, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks but Salazar, in his torment, swung his arm which sent her flying across the Great Hall, crashing into one of the solid walls. She slumped to the floor, and Godric immediately retaliated. “You claim you love her! That is not love! Crucio!”
Salazar’s arm was pushed back slightly, but he did not feel the searing pain that should be expected from a well cast curse. “The Unforgivable Curses,” taunted Salazar, “oh, Godric, you’ve got to mean them when you say them! There’s got to be some hate behind them! Like this! Crucio!” Again Godric fell to the floor, but instead of writhing on the ground he managed to lift his arms, and in a second, Salazar saw Godric’s signature fireball burning straight towards him.
He rolled out of the way, but lifted his hands. He remembered the spell he had used so many years ago to kill Sir Guy. It had been instinctive; that had been the other time in his life when he had lost everything. He swiped his hand in Godric’s general direction and a long sweeping blade wound erupted on Godric’s chest. Roaring in agony, Godric stumbled forward and again lifted his arms. A gust of icy wind whooshed from his hands, pushing Salazar backwards, but he kept his eyes looking resolutely forward. He had to win.
Salazar lifted his arms again, ready to cast another Unforgivable Curse, but Godric was ready for him; raising his wand he shot a knockback jinx straight into the centre of Salazar’s chest. The force of the spell propelled Salazar into the air and he flew upwards, before crashing back down to the ground, his back cracking nastily as he hit the floor.
Feeling slightly dizzy, he tried to climb to his feet. When his eyes came back into focus, he saw Godric looming over him, his wand pointed at Salazar’s chest. His eyes were a little softer than they had been, and he seemed appeared to want to reconcile. “This ends,” growled Godric, his voice becoming gentler with every word, “this rebellion against the dream we made together. You are just as vital to this school as the rest of us. Just come back to us, forget about Bonne and everything she has told you. Come back to being my friend who I met in the forest all those years ago.”
Godric suddenly seemed to have a look of remorse on his face, but Salazar did not believe any of it. This was the man who had ruined his life, and he would never, ever forgive him. “I will never be your friend ever again Godric. You are a filthy, traitorous Mudblood and you do not deserve my friendship, the friendship of a Pureblood.”
Godric let out a little sigh, and looked about to drop his wand when it was propelled out of his hand, and it flew away behind him. Both Salazar and Godric turned in the direction of the spell caster. Bonne Malfoy had just entered the room, her wand raised. She looked at them all with the icy distain that was so familiar.
“I know what you did Bonne,” came Helga’s voice, shaking with sadness and fury, “I know you stole Maud’s letter to manipulate Salazar. I know you are Adrian’s true murderer!” Bonne’s grey eyes flicked over to Helga, so the latter continued, “You are not only a traitor to this school and Adrian, but you have betrayed Salazar by putting him in this mess!”
Salazar tried to free himself from Godric’s grip; he was holding dangerously onto his collar. He could see the others had stood up. Cadmus and Guillaume stood next to Helga, while Rachel shielded the unconscious Rowena. Bonne’s lip curled into a smile, “I am not the traitor. I had no loyalties to this school, or Adrian and I will be Salazar’s loving wife. The true traitor in here is my own brother.”
Her eyes slid onto her brother, who almost cowered under her furious glare. “You
,” she spat, suddenly making that binding curse which he would never escape from, “will be punished for betraying your only sister. Baron Sanglante, Guillaume Malfoy, you will die in the pits of a hopeless love, unable to break yourself free. It will smother, strangle and choke you and until all the life is squeezed from your body.”
Guillaume suddenly looked at his hands as if he would be able to see the mark of her curse upon his skin. The other’s looked horrified, but Bonne did not seem to care. She turned to Salazar, a hard look on her face. “There is no home for you here anymore,” she growled, “we have lost the war, and they are turned against you due to the actions of a traitor. I ask you, my betrothed, come with me. We can leave this castle together and pursue the beliefs that are truly in our hearts.”
Godric pulled Salazar to his feet. Salazar’s grey eyes swept around the room at Hogwarts the place that had been his home for eleven years, and he sighed. He knew what he would do. Pulling himself from Godric’s grip he growled, “there’s nothing here for me anymore. The people who I thought were my friend’s are dead to me.”
He turned away from them, and picked his wand up from the floor before walking back towards Bonne, taking her pale hand in his. They marched out of the room together, resolved that they would never look upon Hogwarts or its inhabitants ever again. Without seeing Bonne’s face, he knew that they would miles away from the castle by the next evening.
I really hope this was good enough. This is obviously the main "event" of the founders story, and I really hope it wasn't an anticlimax and I lived up to expectations. I'm not that good at writing action scenes so please tell me what you thought! This chapter was originally longer, and it was going to include all the aftermath, but it got too long. The next chapter could be a couple of weeks, but to give me the inspiration to write, tell me what you thought in a lovely review!