16.2
The Founders-
My feet are resting on the wood desk while I read the diary—well, the actual diary part, not the blood-locked version of the book where she goes into detail about being a supernatural creature. I'm reading about a cloudy Wednesday in her time when suddenly I sit straight up, putting my feet on the ground.
She was beautiful, with long, curly auburn hair, soft facial features, and kind green eyes. She was new to town.
I immediately reached for my phone and opened my and the girls' group chat.
"Maeve was gay," I send and get an answer almost immediately from Jo.
"No wonder you're so gay; it runs in the family." She sends this; rolling my eyes, I type up the passage about the girl for the two girls to read for themselves. They both agree with me that it seems my grandmother was a bit queer.
I kick my feet back onto John's desk. He's in the middle of teaching a class, and I have nothing better to do than to be here reading my great-great-great grandmother's writings. I read further, and she continues to write about the redhead. She writes about everything that she sees the girl doing, yet Maeve never goes up and talks to the girl. Maeve finds that her name is Bridget. It takes another week before Maeve actually talks to Bridget. The interaction is small but means the world to Maeve. She talks about it for two days in her diary, and I eat it up.
I'm in the middle of reading a passage of Maeve's daily chores when the door to the study opens. In the doorway stands John, clearly unhappy that my feet are on his desk or that I am in his chair. Though with the class of fifth years, he can't let them know I'm there, so he silently scowls at me while he gathers a few books from his shelves. I wave at him with a grin when he goes to close the door, which sours his expression.
I continued to read when suddenly my ears perked up. I heard voices—not those of John or his class but something else. The voices sound old and muddled. They speak in what seems to be old English. I can just barely hear them from the chair. I closed the diary to focus on them.
"The new defense teacher seems to play favorites, yet he seems competent enough," says a female voice. I can assume what she is talking about from that. I don't hear the response, but I can tell it was a man's voice. I sit there listening to nothing until I pick up another piece of dialogue.
"He does dress nicely, at the very least." This voice is deep and proper. Clearly, he is a man who is confident in himself.
"Did you hear that Slazar's passage was nearly opened?" The female voice speaks once again. Salazar Slytherin? "It was this blond boy talking to himself in front of the statue in the dungeons." Now, I'm interested in a hidden passage made by my house's founder. Count me in.
"One of Salazar's descendants?" He stops for a moment. "Didn't know there were any in the castle at the moment." I can perfectly hear the furrowed brow in his words.
"Now come Godrick, I told you of the Ansley boy when he was sorted into Slytherin."
I lose focus on the voices when I hear this. Now, sitting in silence, I have nothing to say. Not only am I genetically a banshee, but I am also, in some way, related to Salazar Slytherin himself. I wouldn't be surprised if I were related to Merlin himself at this point.
I'm going to keep this to myself until I find that statute and learn how I'm related to the now-long-dead founder of the House of Slytherin.
John comes in after his class and gets on me about my feet on his desk, but I can tell he isn't very angry about it. It's the first time he's ever 'gotten onto' me since our first meeting. It ends in us laughing together. We switch seats, and I tell him of my findings of Maeve, to which he responds jokingly.
—
"I'm glad he's back to hanging out with his other friends." Elle spreads her cinnamon sugar onto her warm toast. Jo nods along while making me my second cup of coffee.
"Yeah. He finally stood up for himself like we told him to do." Jo hands me my coffee before going back to her own breakfast. I take a bite out of the sausage before continuing. "He's a good kid. When he isn't being forced into submission, that is."
-790 Words-