Ravenclaw

Chapter 73- Doom and Gloom

Song for the chapter: FOOLS by Troye Sivan

~

"Helga..."
The woman beamed up at him, before turning round to glance at the golden plates that lined the dishes again. The food had disappeared once more at her command, and soon, the plates did too. It wasn't time for the cutlery to serve their purpose— there was still two more weeks until the school opened its doors to welcome in students.
Salazar must admit— he was expecting much more advanced and unique magic— not that what Helga had just shown him wasn't. In fact, it was quite brilliant, the fact that she managed to enchant the entire dining hall to bring up food directly from the kitchens in such an efficient way, but Salazar was probably looking for something more dramatic, secretive— much like his chamber.
     "I absolutely love it, I must thank Rowena again for placing me in charge of the dining hall— I just love how it brings everyone together for meals, one of the most important times of the day, of course." She paused, turning round to look at Salazar expectantly. "I mean, it's not much of course, if you would rather I show you something else... mind you, it was Rowena who had constructed it, didn't tell me all the details..."
     Salazar smiled— how could he disappoint the woman he still loved. He placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Helga, your good, sweet nature makes this place probably one of my favourite in the castle."
     Helga blushed crimson and giggled a bit— Salazar was never one for compliments, but he'd dish out millions for Helga just to keep her happy.
     They continued to chat as they made their way back into the village house where Helga dwelled with their children and her husband, Percival. When the reached, Helga stood atop the stone steps of the porch and stared at Salazar in silence, a sad look on her face.
     "I suppose this is goodbye... for now."
     Salazar nodded. His silent, cold exterior had returned, just as the night had fallen. The sky was darkening quickly, and the bright, silver moon and the stars took the sun's place. A wolf howled nearby— Cepheus must've transformed on the night of the full moon.
     "I shall see you when the term starts then, or maybe a day sooner," Helga continued. "And you ought to arrive a day earlier; Rowena might lose her head if we were slightly unprepared— you know, having one of the founders missing and unable to teach."
     She let out an awkward laugh— Salazar smiled. He took a small, minuscule step towards her, his hands folded behind his back. "See you rather soon, Helga," He said, wishing that the urge to kiss her wasn't so strong. Helga, unable to speak as she thought the same thing, merely nodded, raising her hand to wave goodbye.
     Salazar took a step back and turned on the spot— with a loud bang, he had Disapparated. The front door of the house burst open; Percival, in his old white pyjamas, breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Helga standing there.
     "There you are— started to think that he'd kidnap you or summat!" He laughed awkwardly, stepping aside to let his wife through. Helga, who did not find this comment amusing in any way, held her head high as she walked past him, sweeping into the sitting room.
     "Salazar would never do that to me," she said defiantly. "He would never hurt anyone without purpose, he's a good man."

~

It was considerably dark when Salazar had Apparated back into the grassy fields of his father's manor. The Muggle farmers nearby had gone back to their homes either in the distant village or in the middle of their fields. His entire surroundings was asleep; he slowly made his way up to the manor, only visible to wizards and witches.
The minute his foot touched the path, the front door creaked open. Upon the threshold was a woman in her late forties to early fifties— she wore an extravagant green silk dress that fell gracefully around her porcelain feet, and her neck and arms were dressed in the finest jewellery. Her delicate hands gripped the door's handle tightly, and her manicured nails rapped on them impatiently.
Salazar quickened his pace ever so slightly— evidently, his mother had been awaiting his return. The polished wooden boards of the porch creaked beneath his weight as he swiftly entered the house. His mother, Mariana, slammed the door a little bit too forcefully.
     In unison, the lair instinctively walked down the corridor to their right, footsteps echoing all the way. A hushed conversation was shared between them.
"You're late."
"I'm not stupid, mother, I think I'd know if I'm late if the moon and stars are already up."
Mariana scoffed at her son's rude reply. "Don't you dare give my cheek, boy, imagine the impression you'd make!" Her tone had a sense of warning in it— as if she was afraid of what the others might think of this kind of tardy behaviour.
"Impression?" Salazar repeated. "I thought it mattered not what others thought, seeing as you are in charge?" He challenged his mother's authority, and this seemed to do the trick. She started to fidget; something she rarely did.
"Yes, well, times change, you know... people start to wonder whether we're actually doing something... actually have a plan—"
"You are afraid," Salazar said. "Afraid, and nervous, because your power might as well be stripped away from you. Their doubts are correct; there is no 'something', there is nothing of a plan— you lie, Mariana, to the people who's trust you've gained but might as well have lost."
"Silence!" She hissed, incredibly tense. Her eyes darted round, as if certain that there were eavesdroppers. But nothing came round— the only sounds were of the leaves swaying in the mild breeze. Moonlight poured through the grand, silver windows, casting peculiar shadows onto the walls of the decor of the corridor.
"You know nothing, Salazar!" She reprimanded. "Th-there, there is a plan... o-one that I would never suggest, of course, but still... one of the greatest that I've heard, personally..."
"As long as your reputation isn't shot, it might not affect mine." Salazar stiffened slightly; his jaw clenched. "I would have never participated in your twisted business, had I had my way, you evil, conniving—"
     "Silence!" She hissed again, and they stopped in front of two double oak doors. There were some engravings on the door's frames— patterns of flowers and snakes lined the wooden frame, and soon, Mariana had beckoned Salazar to say 'open' in Parseltongue so that the snakes could send forth a warning that they were entering the room.
The doors swung open at his command. Seated at the ridiculously long table were people in masks, afraid to show their faces for if they were caught in the revolutionary movement, they would certainly be slaughtered for their crimes. The braver ones showed their faces, clutching their wands eagerly, waiting for Mariana to make her fabled 'announcement' that would bring forth action for their beliefs— their beliefs of having pure-bloods to be the ones ruling over the Muggles.
Salazar took his seat at the head of the table, where his father ought to have sat. Marian quickly scurried over to her seat beside him, and instead of sitting down, she cleared her throat and started to speak.
"Now that my son has finally arrived, this meeting can commence." Nobody spoke. Instead, everyone sat upright, rapt with attention. They had all been waiting for some sort of exciting news ever since Flaura Mae and Ophichus went rogue— the original troublemakers having run off and switched sides, Mariana and Aurora had to step in and do something. They were losing the crowd, they had to build it up again.
"First order of business; our head of the organisation, the new face of the Revolution." People began to murmur. A new leader? A new head? This was something that shocked everyone— Mariana was a power-hungry witch, an evil little snake. She would never give up her position of power, unless she was offered one of higher position. But the next words that left her mouth shocked nobody— of course she would take advantage of her son.
"Salazar Slytherin, my son." She added pointedly, suppressing a smirk. "Under my guidance, of course," she said as an afterthought. Salazar stood up, bowed halfheartedly and sat back down, grumbling to himself. This was compromising he worked hard for, going against all that he believed. But what could he do? He was way past the point of no return, so all he could do was agree to this sickening campaign and wait until the damage was done, perhaps.
     Mariana did not sit back down. Despite Salazar now being in charge of everything, she was still in control and thus had every right to continue on speaking, continuing to finish her announcements. Not that Salazar was going to speak, anyway; he wanted nothing to do with the matter, thus he had nothing to say.
     "Second of all, I'm here to tell you all something that we've been waiting for." She paused, her eyes surveying the room, looking at each and every person, masked or not, sitting there that day, all ready to execute the most evil of plans in order to get their point across. Mariana smiled wickedly to herself.
     "The attack will happen when we are ready, of course," she continued. "Which may take a considerable amount of time. Nonetheless, it is crucial we do not risk rushing the procedure, for I hope all of you seated here knows the incredible power that Ravenclaw woman posses, and what a threat she poses for us."
Salazar clenched his hands into fists underneath the table— he could not stand having his mother talk about his friend like that in front of him. It was one thing to talk ill of Rowena behind his back; it was a completely different thing to do so right in front of his face.
"She knows quite a great deal of advanced magic, much more advanced than what most of us know, mind you, so getting into the school and attacking would be much harder than—"
     "What?" Salazar said suddenly, sitting up and glaring at his mother. Mariana stopped and narrowed her eyes at her son, but that didn't faze him. Instead, it only made his anger boil inside him much faster.
     "I must've heard wrong, because if you even believe of ever think of so much touching the school—"
     "Well, that's the entire thing!" Mariana cried. "How do you expect to get much done with that, that friend of yours running the school? The Mudblood lover—"
"Do not call anyone that foul name!" Salazar thundered. His fists banged hard on the table, and Mariana smiled wickedly. She knew just the trick to make her son lose his temper.
"You only adopted that goody-two-shoes policy because the mother of your lover is a Mudblood!"
The room fell silent. The people who were daring enough to converse through hushed whispers while the two bickered stopped talking, wide-eyed; nobody had dared mention Helga in front of Salazar before. Although their 'affair' was somewhat concealed, Mariana wasted no time in telling the Revolution that Salazar had had his first-borns with another woman, a woman who they did not respect.
Salazar rose from his seat slowly. Maria, his wife, sat frozen in her chair a few seats down, unable to look up. She avoided both Salazar's and Mariana's gazes.
"You horrid madwoman," he spat bitterly. "You heartless old fool!" His hands twitched to where he concealed his wand, but he made no movement to retrieve it.
"You still love her!" Mariana screeched, pointing at her son accusingly. "You love the dirty little daughter of the filthy Mudblood, and you continue to visit her! And her worthless, dirty heirs!"
Salazar growled. "They are not worthless, you are! They contain my blood, they are of my ancestry! You await the day Maria bears children, but they will never receive the gifts my heir should posses! Her children is as much as mine!" He thundered, his hand twitching again. Mariana held her firm stance, the finger that was still pointing at him trembling slightly.
Aurora Lestrange watched the scene intently, with great interest. She eyed Salazar curiously, a smile playing on her lips.
"You... you visited the conniving woman today!"
"On your orders to spy on the castle once more!"
"Excuses!"
"Expelliarmus!" Salazar shouted, unable to resist. Mariana's wand flee through the air and he caught it with ease, glaring at the woman he did not recognise as a mother, but a puppeteer, controlling her puppet of a son.
"You seem to forget your place, Mariana." He said, quite serenely. His mother fell quiet; all was silent except for the sound of her heavy breathing.
"As I recall, you had placed me in charge now." He walked round his chair, footsteps echoing. He clasped his hands behind his back, and walked over to his mother. "You are of a lower authority, compared to me."
Mariana's heartbeat quickened; her breathing became laboured. Her son stood behind her, intimidating her. She looked away from him.
"While I approve of your plan, I disapprove of your ways," he said, whispering in her ear. Mariana froze, unsure of what horrors to expect.
"This is what I do to people who disobey me."
"Crucio!"
Mariana fell to the floor, writhing and screaming in pain— her eyes rolled back into her head as she clawed at the polished wooden floor. Her feet kicked at the walls, and her arm shot out to grab the leg of the chair of an unsuspecting Revolution member, who jumped and dragged his chair away.
Salazar showed no sign of stopping. Hatred and fury reflected in his eyes, along with the red light of the spell he casted. Mariana's voice died out and was replaced with retching sounds. Everyone looked away with horror and shock.
"I think that's quite enough, Slytherin."
Aurora Lestrange stood up, and she looked at her struggling accomplice with a blank expression— it was hard to tell whether she felt sorry for Mariana, or was amused by the situation before her. Salazar's eyes snapped up to meet his wife's aunt's, and he seemed to obey. He let his mother remain on the floor, wheezing, screaming.
"Lestrange." The name fell from his lips, and Aurora smiled.
"Let this be a lesson to all of you," he said, looking away from her. "Whoever dares to insult the school, my past friends, my... my children and their mother, will answer to me. Any mention of them apart from the plan will result in this kind of torture," he gestured to his mother, "albeit anyone to help you stop me." His eyes met Aurora's again, and she nodded.
Salazar walked back to his seat, and he had his eyes trained on his mother as she struggled to get back up onto her seat. "Aurora, continue demonstrating the plan."
Madam Lestrange nodded and spoke with such clarity, everyone fell into an attentive spell.
"After we gain information on when the castle and its inhabitants, both students and staff alike, we will strike when they are most weak. This might take a while, of course, but patience and time will be our greatest friend." She looked around at everyone seated there; some were fidgeting nervously. They had not expect their Revolution to take such a long time— they thought it would be a momentary thing.
"We cause terror and uproar outside of the castle. Make everyone in the European wizarding community feel insecure, unsafe, vulnerable, and then when we finally take down Hogwarts, who's to say we can't take over the world?" Aurora smiled just as wickedly as Mariana as cheers and roars erupted from the table. People started to celebrate and fantasise of the world being in control of the wizards and witches, no longer oppressed by Muggles. She looked over at Salazar, who was seated surveying the scene with disinterest.
It did not matter, nothing did anymore. Salazar pledged his alliance by approving of the plan, and has secured his place as their leader by torturing his mother and saying so himself.
What a fool, Aurora thought as she look at the handsome, young man. What a lovesick fool, who'd do anything to protect his friends, when really, there's nothing he could do to shield them from the storm ahead.

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