The Beginning
The air was cold and foggy, an ominous fog hovered in the streets.
A street light flickered, illuminating the wet stones of the walls, while the last drops of rain fell on the street.
The young girl wrapped her blue coat tighter around herself and blew on her hands to try and keep them warm.
The girl knocked on a small door three times.
“Wait one second”, replied a feminine voice from the other side. Moments later, a woman opened the door and looked at her up and down. “Who are thee?”
The girl passed her a letter with golden borders and a blue seal. The woman disappeared, closing the door. There was silence for some seconds, only a short sound of paper being moved. The wind howled.
“O’. Cometh in, my dear!”
The woman opened completely and let her in.
“Sorry, thee know, I have to be sure of the people I let in.”
“Yeah, my mother told me.”
The woman made her way to the living room, followed by the girl. Some other kids were sitting on the couch and armchairs.
“I think we are all now. So, it's time for some presentations.” The woman pointed with a hand an armchair to the girl, that sat down.
“I am Maeve, as you may know. Your families sent you to me to teach you all that I know about a very delicate topic: magic. You are the daughters and sons of wizards and witches that I once taught to. Please, get up and present yourselves.”
The kids stared at each other, waiting for someone to stand up. Eventually, a red-blonde-haired boy got up. He was quite short, and looked oddly young among the others.
“I'm Godric Gryffindor, son of the Duke of Gloucester. I'm eleven years old.” He sat down looking at the other boy.
He got up. “I'm Salazar Slytherin, my father is the Duke of York. I'm ten.” He looked at his feet while taking a seat again on the couch. He had black hair and green wide eyes. He looked very out of place.
“I'm Helga Gwyther. My dad isn't a duke”, the girl laughed. “I'm ten.”
The last one got up. “I'm Rowena Mac Alpin. If I have to brag about something, my cousin is the King of Scots. I'm eleven.”
“Good!”, she went to sit on an armchair in front of them, as if she was in a classroom. “Now, what do y’all know about magic?”
Godric raised his hand. “Magic is something we have to hide from muggles because they hate it and they would hurt us.”
“Very good, Godric. But it isn't a real definition. Now, to better understand its meaning, I’m gonna talk about the basics of magic.”
★★★
The walls covered in bookcases were lit by candles placed in the room, some on the desk, some on the fireplace – that was now out, as no one fanned it – all wisely far from the piles of books on the floor.
Warm light invaded the room, the sunset rays fighting to enter through a small window simply decorated with wooden leaves and flowers.
Suddenly, a chill draft ruined the atmosphere, causing Rowena to raise her head to the door that just opened.
“Miss Ravenclaw, thee have a visit.”
The young boy who just talked went out as quickly as he came in.
Rowena was sitting at her desk, trying to proceed with some calculation that had her stuck in that room for days. And just when she was starting to get them right, someone was interrupting her. She sighed.
The door opened again and a young man around her age entered. He had red-blonde hair and a wide smile on his face.
Rowena suddenly got up from her chair.
“Godric! Good Lord, what are you doing here?”
She ran to hug him.
“My dear Rowena!” He wrapped his arms around her, then let her go. “I have some news – to be honest, I have a lot of news – but I need your help.”
“O’ I am sure of it. H’re, have a seat.” She went back to her desk and pointed to a chair in front of it. Godric sat down.
“Would you like something to drink? Some cider?”
“No, thank you, I'm ok. Listen. I was on an expedition to York with my troops and I met Salazar. I hadn't seen him since Maeve. We talked a lot.”
Rowena nodded to the young boy, who brought her a cup of cider.
“How is he?”
“He is alright, but the problem is the territory of York. There aren't a lot of wizards there, and it has become a dangerous place to live for people like us. The folk discovered magic and are scared of it.”
Rowena stopped sipping her drink and looked Godric in the eyes.
“They started persecuting wizards and witches.”
“But how? The Duke is a wizard! Why did he allow it?”
“He had no choice. They would have discovered that he and his family are wizards too, they would have died.”
“But they sacrificed… How many? Hundreds of people for their own safety!”
Godric hesitated.
“What? Is there something else?”
He sighed. “Salazar's family has been protecting some wizards and witches from being killed.”
“Oh, that's good news. At least they try to do something.”
Godric got up and walked slowly towards the little window in the room.
“Yeah. But they aren't choosing who to protect randomly or for other reasons.”
“And how, then? By proximity?”
“No. By blood status.”
“Oh my Lord… You mean that half-bloods and muggle-borns are left to die? But why?”
“I can’t understand it. Salazar says that, if a kind of wizard is to live, it must be the pure-bloods, so that the magic heritage will be stronger.”
“We have to help him avoid this, the York ducal family has to protect everyone they can.”
“No, Rowena, you don’t understand. He’s ok with it. He believes this is the right way.”
“What?” She was astonished. The little boy she once knew wouldn't have said that. He would have been on the side of every wizard and witch, without discrimination. Or at least she thought so.
“What should we do?”, Rowena asked.
“I don’t know, but I think we have to reunite the old group. We have to find Helga. After all, we were trained to help others too, we should put those teachings to good use.”
Rowena nodded.