The Architect
Chapter 5: The Architect
The boys arrived back early the next day. They carried bags of parchments, gifts, and clothes piled high on top of them, but dropped them as soon as they landed.
“We’re home!” Godric cried.
The girls charged out of the hut. Helga first. She grasped them and hugged them tightly, then stood back in awe.
“Your faces!” she cried, staring in amazement. “They’re so smooth! Where are your beards? You look like children!”
She touched Godric’s face, smiling.
“Charming,” Salazar said. “Don’t you like the new look?”
Rowena, who had been less tactile than Helga on their arrival but equally astonished, gawped at them.
“Just look at your clothes, look at you. You look almost…”
“Greek,” Godric finished.
He laughed and did a twirl, showing off his tunic and his legs.
“Good gracious,” Agatha joined in, having walked out of the hut slower. “You go away for a few days, and you come back new men. What would you be like after a year?”
“Don’t tempt me!” Godric said, sighing. “Next year, Egypt!”
“We’ve got so much to tell you, and show you,” Salazar said excitedly.
“Yes,” Godric added, fishing around in a bag, “and we’ve brought you all gifts!”
“Well, come inside, come inside before you catch your deaths. We can look at them inside where the neighbours can’t see you. Isis only knows how you managed to portkey with all those things.”
It was good to be back. The weather was cold and the hut seemed small and damp, but it felt homely. The women were attentive and enthusiastic listeners, interested in every little detail. They were all suitably enthralled and entranced by the boys’ descriptions of the people and places they'd met and been to. They were particularly keen to hear about Juliana—was she very pretty? They refused to stop until Godric had blushed crimson. They gasped and leapt at the retelling of the encounter with the manticore, gripping their chairs and grasping their necks and mouths in turn. Godric imitated the manticore at various points with exuberant energy. Rowena was a little disappointed that they had not done the things she’d asked them to do, bar one, but she rallied a little when she heard them retell about the school lectures. They recanted it all, except for the chamber and the dagger, which Salazar wouldn’t dream of telling them about. He had been somewhat coy, too, in his answer to what he had thought about Erebus, when they had asked. Their adventures now well and truly exhausted, the women proceeded to look through all the objects they had brought back and commented on them in turn. They held them up to the light and peered at them closely. They were most thankful for their gifts. Agatha too, who had chastised them for thinking of her, but was secretly most touched. They had brought them jewellery—bangles and beaded necklaces—and they cooed over them in turn, clasping them as precious treasures and wondering if they dared wear them.
The boys in turn asked the women about what they had been up to. It seemed as though they had been most industrious. They explained about the location they had found and their trip to see it. They were a little worried, as they explained that they had sought out the owner there and then and purchased the land. But the boys were suitably impressed, keen to see it, and thought it all sounded marvellous. Things had advanced at such a pace that the services of an architect had been arranged.
“He said he had one more job to finish and then he could attend to us,” Rowena explained, “so he’ll be there today.”
“Golly,” Godric exclaimed, “that’s quick.”
“It’s been very quick,” Rowena said gleefully.
She had clearly been bursting to tell them this news all morning.
“He seems to think that if money is no object, he might even be able to finish by the end of the month of August. That means we could even start on the first day of September!”
“But that’s two months away!” Salazar objected.
This was all happening so fast. Godric and he had only just gotten back.
“There would be so much to do. Never mind whether this chap can make good on his claims or not!”
He found it odd being the voice of reason. Rowena was rarely like this.
“Crazy, if you ask me,” Agatha drawled.
“Strike while the iron’s hot!” Rowena implored.
She tried to sound rousing, like a commander inspiring the troops. But the others wore varying expressions of absolute incredulity. Godric, realizing she was being serious, suddenly felt the pull to be a supportive friend.
“That’s the spirit, Row,” he said, hoping she didn’t think he was being as patronising as he sounded. “We’ve got to have a target to aim for, haven’t we? To focus our minds!”
“Exactly,” Rowena looked at them all. “And to that end, we have a number of urgent jobs.”
Salazar groaned.
“The first,” she coughed, “is the name.”
“The name?” Helga asked.
“Yes, we can’t just keep calling it ‘the school’ forever, now, can we?” Rowena reasoned.
They all fell silent at this logic, staring into space for some inspiration.
“What was the place called again?” Salazar asked. “The village it’s near, I mean? Hog what or something?”
“Hogsmeade,” Rowena confirmed, feeling they were making progress.
“Hog wart,” Godric giggled.
The others looked at him confused.
“Hog what,” he repeated, in an accent, “Hog wart.”
“I kind of like that,” Helga said, staring into space. “Hogwarts. It’s not too pretentious.”
“There is no way we are ever calling this school Hogwarts,” Rowena insisted, lips pursed.
“I think we should vote on it,” Helga said. “All those in favor?”
Helga and Godric’s hands shot up. Rowena looked outraged and kept her arm resolutely down.
“I think you’re all barking mad,” Agatha said exasperatedly.
Salazar couldn’t think of any better suggestions. He did not think Slytherin School would go down particularly well. So he raised his hand.
“Motion carried,” Helga announced.
*
The four founders stood on top of their recently acquired land. The sun high in the sky, highlighting the land, sparkling ripples on the lake. The position was generally agreed to be quite something.
“Where on earth is he?” Salazar asked. “Is he late?”
Rowena fidgeted. “I'm sure he’s a very important man. He must have so many other pressing matters to deal with.”
Some way off there was a crash as a portkey erupted into space, swirling around. A man was flung off it like a roundabout. There was a bundle of brown knapsacks, robes, and jangling bags, and a man leapt up out of them, clasping his hat and bags. He made to come to the four but tripped over a stray bag and landed flat on his front again.
“I’m okay!” the man shouted, getting up.
The boys and Helga suppressed a laugh, and the four went to meet him. As the man drew closer, they could see he was slightly older than them, but still young. He had fine brown hair, blue eyes, and a cheery disposition.
“I am truly most pleased to meet you,” he said.
He spoke reverently, as though to royalty, and shook their hands vigorously in turn as they met. He was so excited that it seemed he could barely string a full sentence together.
“It is truly an honour,” he said emphatically. “This commission, this work, it’s going to be - I have already - I have been up all night and day working on it -”
“Perhaps we could start with your name, chap?” Godric asked, struggling to keep up, rubbing his hands together.
“Ah, of course, my apologies,” he stammered. “The name’s Oswald Otterly.”
The others introduced themselves.
“We’re very pleased to meet you, Mr. Otterly, and that you could undertake this work,” Rowena added.
“Ah, Miss Ravenclaw, I intend to give you complete satisfaction. This is going to be the crowning glory of my career - this is going to be the crowning glory of the land. This commission, this school - I can only imagine what a difference it would have made to me if I'd been able to attend it when I was growing up - what a difference it will make. I want you to know how important it is to me.”
“That is most reassuring,” Helga commented.
“Thank you, Miss Hufflepuff,” he sighed, breathing deeply, feeling he’d been understood.
“Perhaps you could explain to us your ideas, Mr. Otterly? Your designs?” Rowena offered.
“Oh, right, yes, of course, right away!” Oswald clamoured.
He ferreted around in a big bag and managed to pull out a square piece of folded parchment. He unfolded it several times until it swamped him.
“Here it is!” he said, flustered. “Just need to -”
He rearranged it and then placed it out on the floor. He stood back, triumphantly. There was a mass of lines and notes, which must have borne some resemblance to a school to him. The others looked down at the parchment and stared at it, blankly.
“It looks - impressive,” Godric said, uncertainly.
Salazar looked at the piece of paper and then at the nervous man with some mild disdain.
“It looks big,” Salazar commented. “Does it need to be so big? Can’t we just charm it to be bigger on the inside?”
“Mr. Slytherin, Sir,” he gasped, shocked. “This building must make a statement. Just imagine coming here for the first time as a student. What do you want it to be like? Dramatic. Breath-taking. Inspiring. We’re taught to hide our magic all our lives, live in fear of the muggles and upsetting them. Here, at last, is a place, a wonderful, magical place, which is unapologetic. It doesn't try to hide, and that tells them something, that tells them that they don’t have to hide either.”
He spoke with such mesmerizing passion that they agreed to all his proposals. He was so keen to get started on the project that he began right there and then. Out of a knapsack flew little metallic objects that darted about the place. They seemed to know exactly what to do. There were complex circular dials that spun into mystical alignments, spindly compasses that flicked and rotated, and long plumb lines that swung like pendulums until they rested in a desired place. Oswald was in his element, flitting between the instruments, moving more wildly than they did. He made little notes and markings on parchment with a thin graphite stick. A spare one shoved behind his ear.
The founders could do nothing but watch. Helga soon confessed that there were things she had to do and needed to go back to Agatha. The boys, seeing that Oswald looked set to continue for the rest of the afternoon, were eager to explore the village of Hogsmeade. They waved goodbye to Rowena and left. Should they be able to find a beer—well, now, that would be a happy coincidence. Rowena was still watching Oswald, transfixed. Wondering what all those little objects whizzing around were doing. The dreams of many years were finally coming true, and she did not want to leave.
“You don’t mind me watching you?” Rowena asked hesitantly.
She sat down with her chin resting lightly on her hand.
“Not at all,” Oswald replied, smiling, “glad of the company.”
After a while, he started drawing long straight lines with his wand that crisscrossed over the ground, dividing the land up into ever-narrowing boxes. At last, he stopped for a break. He took out a skin from his bag and drank from it.
“Do you mind if I?” he inquired, looking down.
“Not at all,” Rowena exclaimed truthfully.
He sat next to her.
“This building,” Oswald explained, finding his thoughts hard to express, “it’s going to change things for me.”
Rowena nodded. “I hope it does. I believe it will for me too.”
“Of course,” he said, realising. “Life has afforded me many opportunities, not everyone’s as fortunate.”
“It’s no matter,” she said, looking at him. “This was the only opportunity I wanted.”
“I think, perhaps, this dream has been yours a little longer than it has mine?” he asked.
“Yes,” she sighed, “and it frustrates me that you know what it will look like, and I do not. I cannot for the life of me picture it. I have to wait a little longer to see it!”
“Here,” he said confidently, “let me show you.”
Then he presented her with his hand. He didn’t know where such bravery had come from or how the idea had struck him. But she took it, and he swept her to her feet. She was intrigued and exhilarated by it. He led her to one of the squares.
“This,” he said to her, “this is the entrance hall, Miss Ravenclaw.”
“It’s lovely!” she admitted. “We should probably shut the door though behind us,” she mimed.
“Yes,” he said. “Keep out the draft!”
Then he moved her further along, positioning her with her shoulders.
“And this is the great hall,” he announced, introducing her. “It’s vast. Look up at the ceiling, it’s too high for you to see to the top of! This is where you’ll eat,” he mimed, and she laughed, “and where you’ll be able to talk to the whole school together.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Good morning, everyone.”
“There is the kitchen,” he pointed.
“Oh, Helga will be pleased,” she said, relieved.
“And up there,” he motioned, “that’s the library. For all the scrolls you’re going to write!”
He smiled at her.
“Now, really,” she said, coyly.
“And over there, Miss Ravenclaw,” he said, pointing with his hands, making his grandest gesture yet, “that large tower there, that is the astronomy tower. You’ll be able to see for miles and miles around. You’ll have the stars to look down on you. Though, admittedly, it might take you a while to get up there,” he said, looking guilty.
She laughed again. “Well, I should probably let you get on and build it then.”
“Yes, right away,” he saluted.
“There are just two things I should point out,” she looked at him seriously.
“Oh, right, yes?” he said, slightly deflated, rubbing the back of his head.
“Well, you might like to use its proper name now when talking about it,” she said, and then added rather embarrassed, “the school is to be called Hogwarts.”
“I love it,” he glowed, beaming.
“Do you?” she queried, taken aback. But then remembered her second point. “And I think it would be appropriate for you to address me as Rowena too, if that was agreeable with you?”
“Oh, yes, definitely Rowena, and likewise - Oswald.”
“Thank you, Oswald.”
The boys came back at this point, merry, and slightly breathless.
“Weren’t sure if you’d have gone yet,” Godric explained. “Shall we go back together?”
“Please,” Oswald said, “by all means. I will be alright to carry on by myself.”