End of an Era
A beautiful witch smiled, swirling her wine in its glass. She saw the sun dip below the trees of the old forest, the starting tune of a melody in her throat. The notes started to dance through the air as she gently placed her glass on the table, her steps light as she danced to her wardrobe.
It would only be a matter of time, but she chuckled to herself before continuing the melody of the lullaby that should have been sung to her so long ago. Of a family that should have welcomed her with love and understanding rather than scorn and revulsion. Of a gift that wouldn't turn into a curse.
Her dress was a beautifully tailored. High collared with luxurious Lapis blue dye, lace sleeves and a gorgeous butterfly pattern in the dress hem with more Lapis blue and lighter tones. She smiled before sitting in front of her vanity, brushing her midnight blue hair before styling it in a low pony tail with two strands framing her face. Finally, she reached towards the jewelry chest on her vanity before placing the sapphire Ferroniere on her brow. The fire crackled in the fireplace as dozens of small fire lights danced in the village below as the witch took a brush, the red of the lip gloss shining in the reflection of the mirror on both the brush and her lips. Gently finishing with the brush and placing it down, she stood up and stood before the a full mirror. Admiring her appearance, she twirled once to show off and smiled.
"It would be rude to leave my guests waiting. Let's give them a night they won't forget."
A sudden corona of blues and purples akin to flame enveloped the witch, a smile on her face as the door to the tallest tower locked shut. The jewelry box locked itself as a handkerchief gently draped itself atop a small diary, a record of her life.
A flash appeared in the midst of a crowd of angry villagers, the witch knocking the priest from his stand. The old castle in clear view of the quaint village.
Gasps, shouts and profanities were thrown to the newcomer, who held out her arms in presentation. She laughed, a terrible and beautiful sound as the villagers quieted.
"My subjects, My beloved people. I have known you all since I was but a babe, where my family has ruled these lands for ages. Your loyalty to the Theman name has endeared yourselves to me, thus I offer my gift, my love to you all!"
"Witch!" "Demon!" "Wicked Creature!"
The witch smiled, tears streaking down her cheeks as she chuckled, he shoulders slightly bobbing.
A slight twirl, her dress flaring brightly as a flock of butterflies appeared, as if pulled straight from her dress and flew around the village. A moderately sized town in which her family had once ruled. Stopping atop the stand, she saw the noose and gave a strained and rueful smile.
Of course this had always been their plan. It was always their plan. The only people she could trust had long since abandoned her to this fate, this curse, as villagers gripped at her dress, arms and legs.
As the robe fastened against her throat she swore she could hear, above the bleating and crowing of the masses, a group of voices. Muttering a final prayer, she fully let her tears fall as the first butterfly finally touched the thatch roofing of the village homes. Lighting like bonfires, the entirety of the village erupted like a smithy as the witch cackled before grabbing ahold of the priest. His face awash with fear and dread, he barely had a moment to pray to his lord before he, the witch and several other villagers were suddenly and violently immolated.
The terror fueled cries saturated the nights sky as blue flames consumed the village in its entirety.
"Salazar! We need to save her! Mauve!" A man with a short fiery beard and long sword at his side screamed. He pounded against the shield keeping the group from the village, but close enough to feel the infernal heat rolling over them.
A spear thrust against the barrier, a near feral growl tinged with desperation as a woman with braided snow white hair and huntsmen clothing stabbed her spear repeatedly against the magic.
Two other figures looked to each other as a larger woman began muttering spells to try and dispel the magic cast in order to save her friend.
The man, with green robes and ebony black hair stared at his friend with a look of regret and shame as the raven haired woman in blue stared at the village in despair.
"Godric... There's nothing I can do..."
"Damnit Salazaar we can't just leave her to them! Please!"
His eyes were wet with fury and pain as he saw the look his best friend, his brother in all but blood, gave him before tearing his sword from his belt and slamming it against the magic.
"Salazaar, do you think-" Rowena started, her question answered by the dejected lowering of her friends head.
"She did. I thought she'd merely wanted to learn the spell to protect herself... I never could have forseen this."
"I... I can't dispel the magics..." Helga stammered, tears in her eyes as she felt her friend die. The fours attention was suddenly focused on Mauve who let out a scream, a howl of fury and pain. A sound of soul shattering sadness as she wept, falling to her knees as she continued to weakly slam her bloodied fist against the shield.
Helga knelt forward, holding her friend as she wailed to the full moon for the injustice of it all. Whos tears were the most heart broken. Who had cried as the flames died down and all that had remained were ashes and dust.
Godric rushed forward, immediately followed by Salazaar, as soon as the magic of the shield had broken. What they saw broke their hearts. Godric knelt before the body, untouched by flame and blade. The scar of the rope forever branded atop her throat as he held his love. Her body, which had recently been the center of an inferno, was ice cold to the touch.
In the distance, the forlorn cries of wolves resounded alongside their leader.
"Salazaar..." Godrics croaked, his voice hoarse from desperate please "I want to forget."
Taken aback, Salazaar stared at his friend, nay Brother, at the suggestion. "You would forget the love of your life? What shall I tell the others? Should they too forget their friend?"
"Tell them what you want... Their lives are their own to choose. But for as long as I live, I shall be but a shell of a man. My cowardice knows no bounds if I cannot live with her by my side."
Salazaar frowned and nodded. "I cannot merely rid you of the memory, my friend. But I will safe keep your love for her."
Pulling his wand, removing Godric's hat and holding it to his side, he began to cast. "Legillimens"
Pulling forth the memory, a long silver and pink strand, Salazaar Slytherin sealed it within the hat. Stepping just out of Godric's earshot, he muttered once to the hat.
"Let this vessel hold the love of Godric Gryffindor to the forgotten witch. Let those of blood know his heart and loss. Share the secrets of true hearts only to the descendants to the never wed. So I say, so mote it be."
With the final words intoned, the hat took a slightly brown glow before Salazaar stood before his friend.
"It's time to go, Godric. She needs a proper burial with her ancestors."
In the year 988, five friends laid to rest one of their own, in a castle over looking a lake.
Two years later, a castle would be bequeathed to four of the five friends, with the fifth being given a necklace; A Wolves fang on a simple string.
In honor of an old promise made between children, a school would be founded. Four houses would be made with a fifth being offered but never taken. Her choice would always be to the woods with her family. She would brave the world and find those talented in the ways of magic to be taught. Taught how to handle such power, how to face the world beyond. A lesson they had learned from their departed friend. A memoriam of the costs magic would take.