Helga Hufflepuff | A Harry Potter founders story

Prologue

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You know when you can't find something?

Something special to you, like a favorite book you'd been craving to read, or a special gift from someone. You thought for sure it was nearby. And it hasn't been long since you noticed it wasn't where it was supposed to be. If someone accused you of losing it, you would just tell them it was only missing, not lost. It was a bit like that. I couldn't find the real him. But I knew as clear as a summer night that the person I knew was still alive underneath it all.

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Salazar isn't right.

I can't figure out why, and he's been very reluctant to share.

I think I first noticed the frightening silence. He wouldn't talk during meals, wouldn't show up to meetings, and wouldn't respond when I called him. So eventually we stopped trying, maybe it was because we thought he was going to explode again. I will never, ever forget that night. He flipped tables and shattered the windows, yelling about- something... I don't really remember.

I ran forward to try and help him, to calm him down, but Rowena pulled me away. I look at it as a natural instinct that shoves into my throat from my stomach, it wasn't bravery, it was simply a reckless care for others.

I awoke from my daydream to someone calling my name. Not that this was uncommon around Hogwarts, many people had many reasons to call me, after all I am a head of the school. But I was hoping to have a bit of time alone to think. But all I'd done was daydream. It seemed I was unsuccessful.

Without any greeting Godric sat down next to me on our bench by the lake. My favorite spot, My get away. I hadn't realized it was so obvious that this was where I always was. I looked at him. He had long, messy, brown hair that shot up out of his head then flopped in all directions, and a face that I swear hasn't changed in ten years.
Complemented by a pair of chocolate brown eyes. It wasn't like Godric to not have any sort of, well, grand entrance. He was always jumping up behind you and shrieking like a thestral, or slipping his hands over your eyes and saying, 'Guess who?'. He nudged me. "I knew I'd find you here." Of course he did. "Is it really that obvious?" I asked, hopefully sounding less miserable than I was.

"Um, yes, you haven't realized that by now?" he said, smiling faintly. I shook my head in amazement. "Somethings I'm convinced you're a legilimence." I returned his smile with equal faintness, but knew he wasn't here for light conversation. When he wanted to be, Godric could be very serious.

"We need to talk about Salazar, Helga." he said suddenly, a strained tone in his voice.

"I know."

We sat there, staring at the lake for a few seconds. Godric and I had been friends for nearly our whole lives. We had grown to bounce off of each other. So if he was stressed, I was also stressed. It was just what happened after knowing each other for so long.

"I know where Salazar went off to Helga." said Godric, breaking the silence. My eyes widened. "What? How?" I said quickly, looking up at him. "He was talking to himself." Godric muttered, not really answering my question. My eyes followed him as he stood up thoughtfully. "Talking to himself?" I repeated hesitantly. He turned toward me and held out his hand. I looked him, confused.

"Come on, I'll show you."

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