The Founders

Chapter II

Slytherin Manor,

Salazar & Caecilius Slytherin

Salazar poured himself a shot of fire whiskey. This extended session of the House of Swords had exhausted him. He couldn't see the end of the war. He wondered about all the possibilities, making schemes and plans in his head of possible attacks and endings.

"Godrick will resent you for what you're doing." Caecilius said arrogantly, cutting him in his reverie.

"I know." Salazar didn't look up at his brother when he entered the dark office. "I must say, you surprised me. Forcing the Silver in their decisions is not an easy thing to do."

"Zarùn is not oblivious of our course of action. He is just waiting to see how the situation evolves."

Salazar looked up and considered Caecilius for a moment.  "You know him better than I thought."

It wasn't a question.

"Well, it seems my secret saved your pretentious arse this morning. You seemed in a - how could I say this without troubling you?" he chuckled, "uncomfortable position, maybe?"

"Don't play foolish with me. I'm not in the mood for a fight." Salazar replied icily, drinking slowly from his crystal glass.

Caecilius grinned, knowing he had touched a nerve. "And yet, I believe you were well down for much more than a little fight this morning."

The close expression on Salazar's face made him stop sneering. Caecilius carefully let his brother to his thoughts and let himself observe the room he was in. He knew it by heart. Since he was child, he had always been struck by the darkness of the study. In each corner lay moving shadows. Caecilius had always thought they were alive. Always on the move but held back by a raging fire, maintained at all hours of the night by invisible servants.

Where a portrait of their father should have presided, Salazar chose to put his coat of arms. A green and silver basilisk. It was disturbing to see how much of his patronus, Salazar had in him. His brother was deadly and vengeful, Caecilius knew it. And yet, there was still a spark of warmth in his cold eyes. As if the snake hadn't washed everything away. As if Salazar couldn't let go of his entire childhood and gave himself totally to the war and the coldness it brought.

Caecilius memorised the room once more - the dark wood covering the walls, the emerald green of the curtains, the bright light of the huge fire - In everything, he could find his brother. It was everything he had ever known. And it was everything he would fight for.

Caecilius sighed quietly and turned to leave the room.

"Thanks, brother."

Caecilius did not turn back. He smiled to himself and, waving his hand, he silently left the room.

***

The muggles' army had been crushed down. Order and Respect reigned in the magic world. There was no need to hide or lie anymore.

The drums of Victory resonated in the magic world, to the glory of Salazar. Their echoes were stronger and stronger at every minute. They were in the heart of every person, they were in their awe of Salazar.

They ricocheted. Something was off. People were not shouting for joy. They were screaming. Fear. Salazar could feel it taint the atmosphere. The drums were not an ode to him anymore, it had become a racket. Salazar thought he would implode under its crush.

"Salazar! Salazar! Caecilius!"

Salazar woke up with a start, cold sweat streaming down his back. It was one of those nights when too much had happened during the day and deep sleep wouldn't come to relieve him. When there were too many thoughts swimming in his ocean of magic for him to rest, when his brain wandered from magic to void.