Read me.
This piece came about because I was writing character explorations of Javert and Valjean. Unfortunately, being something of a mad Harry Potter fan, I ended up with a lot of terms like "very, very Slytherin" in my descriptions. So, I thought, why not have the Four Founders themselves discuss our dear Inspector? Here is an analysis of Valjean and Javert, viewed through the eyes of Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and my favorite, Salazar Slytherin (who smokes a cigar in this story, for some reason.)
Disclaimer: The Muggles belong to Victor Hugo and the wizards are JK Rowling's. The only thing here that's mine is the stupid idea of putting them together.
Because this is primarily a Les Miz story, I have Salazar & co speaking in a relatively modern fashion. I didn't exactly feel like thinking out the thee's and thou's they might have used.
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Helga Hufflepuff opened the first file. "Oh, dear," she sighed. "He's got a negative kindness rating. This one's not for me. Somebody else take a look."
Usually, the ones Helga rejected immediately were Salazar's territory. He snatched up the folder, flipped it open carelessly, and read aloud, "Javert." He raised his eyebrows and looked at Godric. "Not much of a name, has he? Not that we're any to talk…"
"Oh, come on, Sal, just read it," Rowena snapped. Ordinarily patient, she was irritated today because of Sal's lighthearted joking over the future of these students. They had lives in their hands today, she reminded herself. This was not the time for foolishness.
"All right, all right." He puffed on his cigar. "Um. This one's a piece of work, guys – he appears to be a driven policeman. A religious fanatic without a religion. It says here," he added, squinting at a hastily-scribbled note in the margin, "That he was flung into our world due to suicide. Hmm."
"Oh, the poor dear," Helga interjected. "What'd he do himself in for?"
Salazar read further. "Good heavens. He killed himself because he'd been chasing a convict around for years and finally caught him, the guy saved his life, and he couldn't live with either turning him in or letting him go. Good heavens."
Godric snorted. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Not a bit," Sal said with a nasty smile. "Looks like quite a bit of fanatical loyalty there, doesn't it? But with a negative kindness rating, he's not going anywhere near Helga's house…"
"Oh, no, you don't! Don't look at me!" Godric paused. "Give me that file."
"Not on your life. You're just trying to find a way to pawn him off on me," Sal accused, smirking at Godric's guilty expression. "Well, let me tell you straight off he's got no place in Slytherin house. He's got a rigid code of conduct, he's never told a lie, and he's a gypsy."
"Oh, really, Sal!" Rowena snatched the file from him and scanned the basics briefly. "You and that purity of blood business…It looks like he's quite capable of taking care of himself; he doesn't appear to need acceptance or approval from his peers." With an apologetic shrug she passed the folder on to Gryffindor. "He's patient and sharp, but unfortunately his wisdom-acquisition graph doesn't seem to be going up much. I can't take him."
"Ah. So he's not only a stubborn fanatic, he's also stuck in his ways?" Sal feigned surprise. "Who'd have guessed? Sounds right up your alley, Godric old boy."
"Absolutely not. Look here, it says…um…" Godric searched frantically for a way to rid himself of Javert. "Come on – look here, no courage, no courage whatsoever. See this – a man almost died, crushed under a cart, and Javert didn't crawl in to help him up…"
"Oh, fancy that," said Sal sarcastically, "A potential Gryffindor with a notion of self-preservation! Amazing. Godric, you really should take him – he'll be the only member of your house likely to survive until graduation."
Godric went to protest again but Rowena silenced him. "Don't be childish, Godric. Just because this Javert fellow isn't your usual Prince Charming recruit, you can't deny that he belongs in Gryffindor."
"His character is strong, he's loyal, and he hasn't got a malicious bone in his body," Helga added, shooting Salazar a pointed look. "He's brave, too – look at this – faced down seven armed bandits on his own, spied on a bunch of crazed revolutionaries…he is perfect for you."
"What's more," Rowena said decisively, "we've got to place him, and he obviously can't go to Helga, me, or Sal. Be reasonable."
In the face of such logic, Godric finally conceded. "All right," he said. "But if the next one is just as bad, I'm not taking him, no matter how brave he is. Clear?"
"Fine. Next!"
Helga opened up the next file and tittered nervously. "What?" snarled Sal.
"You're not going to believe this," she giggled, "But this file belongs to a certain Jean Valjean – the convict our dear friend Javert spent his life chasing down."
Sal bit down on his cigar and snorted so hard that pieces of ash and cinder sprinkled down all over the table. "What sort of horse-manure is this? Give me that file!" He snatched it and skimmed the first page briefly, then slowed down. He re-read some vital statistics, glanced over a few of the incident notes, and puffed slowly on his cigar. "All right," he said, "This convict is my kind of scum. I want him."
More for argument's sake than anything else, Godric demanded to see the man's information. "Hey – Sal, you can't have this one. Look at his kindness rating, it's off the charts!"
"Ooh, is it? Let me see!" Helga scooted her chair up and looked over Godric's shoulder. "I never get the big names…maybe I can…hmmm." A worried look was crossing her face. "He looks a little violent to me. And I'm not sure about all that parole-breaking business."
"He looks brave is what he looks," Godric argued. "Sal, you can't have him. I want him." He looked over at Rowena. "Plus, we haven't even begun to consider the wisdom graphs on this one; he seems to have been around quite a bit and learned from it all, too."
Rowena shrugged. "It doesn't matter. When you two get like this, I know there's no way Helga and I could get whoever you're fighting over. Besides," she added, "I think anyone Sal calls my kind of scum is not really a good addition to Ravenclaw."
"Godric," Salazar argued, "This Valjean is the quintessential Slytherin student. Look at him – he gets what he wants, no matter the methods or the cost. He went from galley-slave to magistrate in – how long? – not to mention raising someone else's brat because he promised to. If that's not ambition, I don't know what is."
"But…but he's so selfless! Sal, no offence, but your students all have a kind of ruthlessness...no self-sacrifice whatsoever…"
"Look at that file again," Sal suggested calmly, "And see if you find a single trace of self-sacrifice anywhere." Godric didn't answer. "No? You don't? Me neither. Valjean has exactly what I want in my students. Look." He reached for the file, flipped to one of the incident reports, and quoted, "Skipped jail the second time in order to rescue the child of…, Yadda yadda. Helga would notice how sweet it is that he rescued a child. I, on the other hand, notice how sly it is that he skipped jail and disguised it as an act of mercy. He does what he needs to do, and covers it up with altruism, and no one is the wiser. He is good, Godric," Sal finished admiringly.
Gryffindor bit his lip. "All right, I see your point," he admitted finally. "But this business with crawling under that killer cart…"
Salazar shrugged. "Morals. Some of my students have it, but if it gets excessive I'll see that we burn it out of him. Don't worry, he'll do just fine in Slytherin house."
"Fine," Godric said with a gleam in his eye, "But you have to admit he's a great catch. Since I'm relinquishing him with relatively little fuss, I want you to do me a favor in return-"
"No."
As though he hadn't answered, Godric continued, "-Take Javert."
"Absolutely not! He'll turn in half his housemates to the caretaker! No – scratch that – all his housemates! Our house will be in negative points for centuries! And, worse yet, now that I've got this Valjean fellow, they'll start up some kind of bloodbath the moment they get their wands…"
"Oh, come, now, Sal, don't be ridiculous," Helga admonished. "Students know better than to take out grudges with magic on their first day."
Only slightly less animated, Salazar quickly envisioned a new danger. "Ah, but what happens when Javert gets tired of being picked on for being an infernal gypsy's child, eh? He could let slip that his fellow student was a convict at one time, and-"
"Javert would never do that," Helga argued. "He may not be kind, but he would never use personal information like that to manipulate public opinion out of sheer malice."
Salazar grinned. "Then he doesn't belong in my house."
"Fine, fine, FINE!" Godric bellowed. "I will keep the nutty inspector, and you can have the saintly convict and life will go on. But I'm warning you, next year I get dibs on who I want, and don't you dare try pawning off any more lunatics on me! Fair?"
"Good. We are in agreement," Rowena said, relieved. "These two were becoming a bit of a problem. One thing, though, Godric: you must remember to wipe their memories of that last life, or your new student will end up stalking the corridors at night as a self-appointed sentry trying to catch Salazar's golden boy up to no good. Okay? Don't forget."
"I don't know how you do it, Sal," Helga sighed at Slytherin wistfully. "Valjean would have been a heavenly addition to any house, and you end up with him, and then, to add insult to injury, you get Godric stuck with his insane nemesis… You're amazing."
Salazar puffed on his cigar again. "That's why I wear the silver and the green, sister," he said with a grin.
"Pay attention, will you!" Rowena interrupted them. "Here – next case. Let's get moving. Oh, dear, another odd one…Dr. Frank N. Furter…oh, my, what is this man wearing…"
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THE END.
For those of you that didn't know, Dr. Frank N. Furter is the transvestite from Rocky Horror.
I know this is a random piece of lunacy that should have remained forever locked in the crypts of my brain, but since I've put it out here…review it! What did you think?