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Task One Challenge- Double Letters by LunarLuna
Chapter 1 : Double Letters
 
Rating: 12+Chapter Reviews: 6


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A/N: I wrote this for the house cup and used the following prompts:

- features your House’s Champion (5 points) (Salazar Slytherin)

- mentions a Sleeping Draught (10 points)

- mentions 2 of the following types of magic: a transfiguration spell, a sleeping spell, the conjunctivitis curse, the summoning charm (accio) (15 points) (The sleeping spell and the summoning charm)

- mentions at least 2 of the following types of Dark Detectors: Foe-Glass, Sneakoscope, Secrecy Sensor, or Probity-Probe (15 points) (the Foe-Glass and the Sneakoscope)

- mentions the details of your Champion’s Wand, as provided by your Head of House (25 points)


Hope you enjoy! :)
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Salazar was pacing back and forth in his study, worrying, although he’d never admit to such a thing. Indeed, he was thinking about it. Thinking very hard about it but not wishing to concede to the fact. No, he was positively not thinking about her. Positively not. He was… studying. Studying Lady Gallow’s large and antique Grimoire that lay limply open on his desk across the room. He walked back towards it, chasing with a move of his hand as though it was physically there, the image of the beautiful lady laying soft and innocent and silent.

And cold.

But that thought as well, he pushed back as far as he could in the depts. Of his mind. For one, he did not care what became of her. He had stopped caring years ago, and it was not an illusion. He had attempted to kill his former friend many times, it was not her but it didn’t matter. It was the same in the end. Furthermore, even if he had been of the caring type, nothing indicated… Nothing proved… She did not appear to be dead. Her hand had been cold but that meant nothing. Salazar knew of many Sleeping Droughts and Sleeping Spells that obtained the same effect…

So why was he so very bothered!? Salazar lunged forward and grabbed a violent hold of his wand as his anger towards himself and his weakness grew. Then he felt guilty for his outburst of sudden intensity. He should be dignified and proud, not… emotional. Being emotional was for Helga, for Godric…

For Rowena.

And it seemed every thought lead to her. He did not desire to think of her soft skin. He did not wish to be reminded of her soft brown locks of hair, or to think of her round, softly pink lips… or see her wide-blue eyes fill with pain and tears and betrayal.

Yes her eyes were the worst.

Salazar closed his own green eyes and desperately attempted to concentrate on something else. He felt the harsh wood of his wand pressed against his hand and concentrated. Yew, Dragon Heartstring, 12.5 inches, unyielding, Good for Defensive spells and dueling. But her eyes were still there, as though itching under his skin. He growled in frustration and suddenly, made a swift turn, changing his entire resolution and nearly knocking down one of his numerous Sneakoscope and (god forbid!) his dearest, most effective Foe-Glass, which he stroked affectionately with his hand upon replacing it. Then he muttered “accio hat” under his breath and the large dark-rimmed and old fashioned hat he possessed flew right into his fingers. Scowling in disgust at the hideous thing, he still placed it upon his head, and his body completely disappeared. It was his worst, ugliest, yet most effective invisibility item. He pulled it tightly against his head and walked out, muttering a few of his better concealment and muting charms for further security.

He walked towards the place where he’d stumbled across her, seeing a shadow move through the woods and hide from him. His feet made no noise as he walked and both him and his shadow where not to be seen, but even so, when he caught a look of the two women one man he’d once known so well, he stood in precautious distance, and hid behind a tree which was, although he’d quite forgotten by now, the first reason of his venue in this land. The leaves had a very special and quite useful particularity…

So Salazar stood and listened carefully, hoping to catch the information he wished to hear in this glimpse of a dialogue between Lady Helga Hufflepuff and Sir Godric Gryffindor…

“… You cannot possibly… she can’t… Rowena!!” Cried Helga, pulling her hand over her mouth and holding back the over-flowing emotions that caught hold of her.

Godric too, seemed to have difficulty holding back his emotions, although he transmitted his pain in a different way then Helga’s watering eyes.

“I’ll kill whoever did this! I’ll kill him! ARRGH!” In his rage, he shot a blast of magic on a nearby tree, which exploded into pieces and revealed a tall man who remained un-moving…

Salazar was stunned by the blasting of the tree but it was not what troubled him so. What troubled him was the way his former friends were speaking… as though… as though Lady Rowena Ravenclaw had been… killed. But surely it was not so. No there would be another reason. In was lost in his thought and not moving an inch, because he knew that movement could be perceived to outsiders to a certain extent that he was hitand pushed to the ground.

Not by a spell.

By a man lost in the fury of loosing one dear to his heart. By a man who once shared his laughs. By a man he had never really given any effort to kill. By Godric Gryffindor, whom he hated. Hated like he hated Helga Hufflepuff and her sweet loyalty. Hated like he hated Rowena Ravenclaw who had broken his heart by not following him and his ambition. Rowena who would have remembered that this tree’s leaves pierced through spells and enchantments. Rowena who was dead. Rowena who had been killed. Rowena who Godric thought Salazar had ripped from her body.

Godric who wanted to kill Salazar.

Salazar who had not brought his wand.

And Salazar did not even try to move.

Because his ambitions had been thorn to pieces with this limp body. Because he hadn’t put an end to her life but it was as though he had with his talks of dark magic and great-ness, with his ambitions to change things, with his disrespect, with his betraying them all.

And Helga could see it, she lunged forward and drew Godric away from Salazar.

“No. He deserves not to rest in the same place as her. Let him drown in his own guilt.” She muttered and, pulling out her wand and pointing it towards him, Salazar only saw a blinding light and felt only a small itch in his hand. Then he felt pushed and thrown, and when he opened his eyes he was sure he’d been killed.

But he wasn’t.

He was in Ravenclaw manor. In her room. And on his hand one letter was etched twice, the two elements nearly converging into one as they lay side by side.

RR

And the tapestry was blue.




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