Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work. I own nothing except Salazar's wife, son, and various other original characters. This story is an AU of sixth year, but it will contain a few spoilers from Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows. However, it will still seriously diverge from canon.
"blah": dialogue
'blah': thoughts
"blah" : Parseltongue
"blah": Legilimency/Telepathy
Italics: excerpt from a book /newspaper or any other written form
Bold: a word or phrase that is emphasized
Italics, Underlined, and Bold: location/date of a scene in the story
For the Kaleah, who never had the chance.
Prologue: History is not what it Seems
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Late Winter, 963 A.D.
Two figures moved rapidly down a long corridor, one slightly in the lead. Their cloaks billowed behind them as they passed door after countless door. The first absentmindedly whistled to himself as he went, running his hand through his shoulder-length hair that refused to lie flat. His face sparked with amusement in the faint light, lips drawn into a ghost of a mischievous smile as he passed a flickering torch and a few snoozing suits of armor.
"Honestly, Godric!" he stated with a faint Celtic accent, smoothing his dark hair once more. "I am not saying that all Muggles or Muggleborns are evil!" He gestured for emphasis. "I just think that we need to be wary of their religion. Most of them believe that we are some kind of demon spawn that will steal their souls." He frowned, one of the portraits gazing at him oddly and then snorting.
"Really, Sal?" his companion intoned with a hint of sarcasm. He shot the offending picture a look before spelling it asleep with a wave of his hand.
"Yes, really," Sal responded fiercely, walking faster now. "They are taught that magic is... that all magic is evil." He shivered at the very thought.
"Humph." Godric made a face that his friend didn't see. His dirty, golden eyes gleamed in clear disbelief.
The two stopped at a heavy wooden door, which quietly opened with a single touch from Sal. He took a step inside but halted in front of the doorway. With a flick of his fingers, light filled the room, and he turned to his companion.
"Most Muggleborns think that they are a demon incarnate. They try to hide or - even worse - suppress their magic," Sal stated, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "Surely, you have noticed that when we go look for students among the Muggles that there are barely any! And further, the ones who we do find are far too afraid to accept their magic. They simply pretend that it doesn't even exist. They know that if they show their powers, their own families would disown them... at the very least! Truthfully, they'd most likely be killed!"
Godric brushed a slightly shaky hand over his robes and commented dismissively, "We do not find many students because there is very little magic in their kind." He stepped into the room, eyes narrowing into slits. "That's why they are Muggles!"
His gaze flickered from his friend to the room surrounding them, briefly lingering on the desks that sat neatly in rows and at the wooden shelves on the walls. He almost seemed to be discreetly searching for something. Almost checking out his surroundings.
The dark-haired man studied Godric for a moment, a strange look flashing across his face. But he continued as if he hadn't heard the other's outburst.
