Chapter 8 The Interview
Chapter 8: The Interviews
It was nearing the end of July. Progress on the school building had been tremendous. Almost on schedule, the walls were half-built. More wizards were now aiming wands at the walls, conjuring stones quarried some distance away. Additionally, four half-trolls were hauling stones up at various levels. The Great Hall, as it was being called, was almost complete. Work had begun on vaulting the ceilings and quarrying the slate for the roofs. A protective spell was used when it rained, covering the entire site like a dome.
The boys were still sharing a tent with Oregon but would breakfast together in the Ravenclaw hut. One morning, as they all sat around the table, bleary-eyed, helping themselves to food, Agatha produced a bundle of rolled parchments—about twenty of them. She cleared her throat and dropped them on the table.
“What are all those?” Godric asked with his mouth full.
“Oregon and I—” Agatha started dramatically.
“—are getting married?” Helga screamed, her hands to her mouth.
Agatha shot her the filthiest look she had ever contorted her face into. Helga looked horrified and returned to her bowl of oats.
“Oregon and I,” she cleared her throat again, “have put our heads together and come up with a list of all the wizarding families we know and have had contact with.”
“You have?” Rowena asked in surprise.
Oregon joined in eagerly, “We’ve written to them all, introducing you and explaining about the school and what it’s about.”
He sounded extremely pleased with their efforts.
“These are all the replies,” Agatha added. “They were all surprisingly interested to hear more.”
The four founders were taken aback.
“Well, if you’re going to have a school, you’ve got to start enlisting the students!” Oregon smiled broadly.
“Mother,” Rowena said in shock, “this is so helpful! Thank you!”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” she replied curtly. “Besides, it was mainly Oregon’s idea.”
*
The four of them split up into pairs. They would take half of the families each and organize a time to visit them. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking to think of meeting the potential students and their parents for the first time. They produced a list of questions—well, Rowena did—and then a list of things they had to tell the parents. They were eager to follow a procedure to appear as professional as possible. Suitable candidates would be recorded on a piece of parchment. They took great care to ensure they looked presentable and respectable, wearing their best robes.
Godric and Salazar’s first visit was to the Shire of Chester in the Kingdom of Mercia. In the salt plains was a village where they would find the Faulkners. The village seemed pleasant enough in the summer sun; the surrounding fields brimmed with crops ready for the coming harvest. The thatched hut of the Faulkners awaited them as they strolled up to the front door and knocked. They hoped the family would be in. They were. A small, rosy-cheeked witch appeared at the door. She seemed pleased to see them, which was encouraging.
“Please, do come in,” she said brightly.
So they did, stepping over the hearth. Inside was a typical cottage with a fire in the middle and a table to one side. Two older boys sat on chairs to one side, tall and thin, with brown wavy hair. They looked wide-eyed at their visitors.
“These must be Peregrine and Osprey?” Godric said, looking at the boys and stretching out his hand to them in turn.
Their mother spoke for them, “Yes, we were most pleased to receive Agatha Ravenclaw’s letter,” she said, sitting down at the table. “I haven’t heard from her in a great while. So easy to lose touch. How is Relvyn?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Salazar said, “I'm afraid to say he died about five years ago.”
“Oh, I didn’t know,” she sighed. “Theirs was a great love match.”
“Mrs. Faulkner, as you know, we’re here because we’re starting a school,” Godric said. “It’s going to be a wonderful school called Hogwarts. We believe your boys would greatly benefit from being formally taught about magic and how to control it—”
“I think it’s a marvellous idea,” Mrs. Faulkner said at once, interrupting him and gesturing wildly with her arms. “I didn’t think my boys would be able to join a school anywhere. I didn’t think there would be a monastery that would take them. I want a better life for them, Mr. Gryffindor. I want them to be able to do something different from working the land if they choose to. Do you think this school would give them more opportunities?”
“I believe so, Mrs. Faulkner, I hope so. This school could give them a great many opportunities to develop their skills and knowledge,” he replied proudly, turning to speak almost to the boys. “It would put them in a great position for many wizarding apprenticeships. They may even gain the resources to determine their own paths—maybe even start up their own business.”
“Would you mind if we asked the boys a few questions, Mrs. Faulkner? Is that alright?” Godric asked kindly.
“Yes, yes, of course,” she said.
“Err, which of you is Peregrine?” Godric asked, bewildered.
“I am,” the boy with the rounder face answered.
“But he prefers Perry,” Mrs. Faulkner whispered loudly.
“Mum!” the boy cried.
“I like it, if you ask me!” Godric announced, and the boy lit up at this compliment. “Now, Perry, I have to ask, are you able to produce any magic?”
He nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, when I am hungry, sometimes I can make food jump into my hand, like apples and stuff.”
“That’s where they’ve been going!” Mrs. Faulkner glared, hands on her hips. Only the presence of the guests seemed to prevent her from scolding her child.
“What about you, Osprey?” Godric asked.
“Yes,” said the one with the pointy face, looking down. “Sometimes I can stop things with my mind. When the sacks fall off the cart, I stop them before they hit the ground, or else everything spoils, and Farmer Auberry gets angry with us.”
“That’s really good,” Godric said, sounding impressed with both of them. “You’re clearly displaying positive signs of wizardry already. At Hogwarts, we will teach you how to perform magical spells with wands and brew potions that can help do lots of different things. We teach how to read the stars and signs, and how to defend yourselves. Would you like that?”
They both nodded. The two men finished their questions and asked if any of the Faulkners had questions.
Perry bravely raised his hand. “Is it true that you slayed a dragon?”
“Perry!” Mrs. Faulkner objected in shock, then asked, “Is it?”
“It is,” Godric beamed, but seeing Mrs. Faulkner’s expression, he added, “but at Hogwarts we are not exactly in danger from any dragons.”
Perry looked disappointed.
“How about you, Osprey?” Salazar asked considerately. “What would you like to learn at Hogwarts?”
“I’d like to learn everything,” he said, looking calculated. “Will you show us something now?”
“Osprey, please, these gentlemen are not common conjurers.”
“It’s fine, Mrs. Faulkner,” Salazar said, smiling at her. “It is natural to be curious about what they could learn should they attend Hogwarts.”
He pointed his wand directly up at the ceiling and clearly articulated an enchantment: “Nivipartum.” The ceiling darkened until it could no longer be seen, hidden behind a thick cloud. Great flurries of snowflakes descended on the room. Mrs. Faulkner gasped. The boys looked up, mesmerized, mouths open. Then they stood up and started to collect the snow in their hands. The snow fell on their heads and necks, cold and icy. A thin white layer thickened on the table.
“Anyone for a snowball fight?” Godric grinned as he formed a ball in his hand.
“That’s amazing!” Mrs. Faulkner exclaimed.
Before things got too carried away, Salazar swept his wand arm around the room, and the snow vanished as if it had never been there. They were all dry again. Mrs. Faulkner’s mouth was still wide in shock. Godric straightened himself up after a look from Salazar, remembering he was supposed to be serious. The two small boys looked glum now that the fun had stopped.
“At Hogwarts, you will learn how to use your magic. As wizards, we are granted many powers, but we must also accept its responsibilities. We require disciplined study from our students.”
“Mr. Slytherin,” Mrs. Faulkner said to him, “the boys don’t have wands!”
“That’s not a problem,” Salazar replied. “We expect most students won’t have one. We will be inviting a specialist to the school. Each student will be given a wand as part of their school fees.”
“Ah yes,” she said. “My husband and I are very eager for the boys to enrol, but it is an awful lot of money. Will you be able to accept it in instalments over the course of a year?”
Her eyes darted between the two of them.
“Yes,” he said, “that would still be satisfactory. Now, if there's nothing else, I'm afraid we must be going.”
Godric waved goodbye to the boys, and the two men left. Once outside, they closed the gate and looked at each other.
“Well, that didn’t go half bad!” Godric beamed.
“Yes, very promising boys,” Salazar reflected. “Come on, we’ll be late for the next appointment.”
The boys Apparated together. Their next appointment was in London, still within the Kingdom of Mercia, on the banks of a great river. The town seemed sprawling, muddy, and dirty, much like the one Salazar had grown up near. They finally found the next house, following some scribbled directions from Agatha. It was an imposing place, clearly belonging to affluent occupants. After knocking, they waited for the door to open.
It was opened almost immediately by a frail old house-elf named Letty. She took them in, offered to take their cloaks, and asked them to wait for her mistress. She seemed unusually subdued for a house-elf, at least based on their limited experience. At last, a lady appeared, with high cheekbones, a sallow face, and a headdress of white hair. In her shadow stood a tall, thin boy with jet-black hair and a ghostly expression.
“I am Mrs. Black,” the lady introduced herself in a frail voice. “This is my son, Orion Black. I received an extraordinary communication from Mrs. Ravenclaw the other day, claiming that a magical school is to be built in the Highlands of Scotland. I imagine you two are from that establishment?”
“Yes, Mrs. Black. My name is Godric Gryffindor, and this is Salazar Slytherin.”
“Salazar Slytherin,” she exclaimed, her words full of meaning. “Not the son of Razledorf Slytherin?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, how many Slytherins can there be?” she remarked, amused. Then, almost to herself, she said, “And you go about with a Gryffindor?”
She was clearly deep in thought.
“You knew my father?” Salazar asked, unsure if he wanted to talk about him.
“Yes, my dear. We lived in the same village until he moved, and I married. We did not have much to do with each other at the time, but in such a small place, we still knew of one another.”
“He doesn’t talk about it much,” Salazar admitted, realizing he didn’t know this piece of information.
“I am not surprised,” she said pensively. “It is not something he would want to discuss. But I am not one to gossip. Now, you came about this school. I suppose you want to see Orion’s credentials. Orion,” she snapped.
Orion stepped forward. Without blinking, he raised his hand, holding a dark wooden wand, and clearly enunciated, “Accio spoon.”
The summoning charm worked, and a spoon flew into the boy’s outstretched hand.
“Very impressive,” Godric exclaimed, wanting to pat the boy on the back.
“As you can see,” Mrs. Black said, barely moving her mouth, “Orion has already had the best tutelage. Why should I send him to Scotland, away from myself, for a year? Why should I entrust him to your care?”
Godric thought it was quite obvious it would be good for him, but he didn’t dare say that.
“Mrs. Black,” Salazar said carefully, “yes, Orion’s education will be at the forefront of magical knowledge. But a school in these lands will provide him with much more than that. These are troubling times. We are threatened with attacks and wars from many sides. I believe it will become ever more important for us to forge links between wizarding communities. Orion would be at the very centre of an emerging wizarding network.”
“This is all very interesting,” Mrs. Black drawled. “I think we will need time to consider it.”
“Is there anything you’d like to ask us, Orion?” Godric asked as warmly as he could.
“No, there is not,” Mrs. Black answered for him.
She turned, flinging her black robes, and marched out of the room, taking Orion by the shoulder. Letty pulled at Godric’s robe, indicating the way out.
“Well,” Godric announced once they’d stepped back into the sunshine, “that was pleasant. I’m not convinced it was a yes.”
“No,” Salazar replied. “No, nor am I. Funny to think of her knowing my father when he was younger. They’d have got on well.”
“Hmm, I wonder what he was like,” Godric mused, trying to picture it.
Salazar had not broached the subject of the terms of the money his father had given him for the school with Godric. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Looking up, he saw it was growing late. They were both eager to return to Scotland.
*
Rowena had been visiting the site almost every day to check on progress and see what Oswald had been up to. As the evening approached, they stood at the edge of the cliff and looked back towards the school. Walls of stone jutted vertically out of the ground, reaching up like hands towards the sky.
“I find I’m dreading its completion,” Rowena said sadly. “I never thought I’d say that.”
“I find I’m adding more towers to it every day!” Oswald declared. “Half of them don’t even have a purpose anymore. Just so I can stay longer.”
Rowena stood close to him. She wanted to put her neck in the crook of his but knew that was impossible.
“They’re all monuments to my inability to say the words I want to,” he moaned, “the words I feel.”
“Please don’t,” she gasped. She couldn’t bear it anymore. “Don’t say any words.”
Suddenly, a stone dropped from the wall closest to them. It must have slipped, but either way, it came plummeting down. It happened so fast. Rowena moved out of the way. Oswald took a few steps back in surprise.
“Oswald!” Rowena cried.
His feet teetered on the edge of the cliff. The rocks started shifting beneath him. He tried to keep upright, but it was too late. His feet slipped, and he started tumbling. He was falling. Rowena was frantic. Her wand was out, and she shot straight to the edge of the cliff. She swished it feverishly. The air seemed to gather together and formed a whirling mass of wind beneath Oswald. It swirled as if forming a creature with wings. It broke his fall, slowed him down, and then suddenly started rising, lifting him up like a leaf on the wind. When he reached Rowena’s height, she leaped and hugged him, refusing to let go. What else mattered? That could have been it. She could have lost him forever. They continued drifting up into the air together, rotating until they looked down on Hogwarts from above. Rowena controlled the air all the while.
“This is incredible,” Oswald marvelled, exhilarated and with adrenaline still pulsing through his veins. “How on earth did you do that?”
“How are you so clumsy?” Rowena laughed, holding onto him tightly.
“I just wanted a better view,” he smiled.
“It’s certainly not a bad one,” she acknowledged.
The two held each other as they continued to turn, surveying the scene below, unwilling for it to end.