Unseen, Unheard
Despite was everyone thinks now, and I know everyone thinks it, Salazar Slytherin was not evil. He didn't practice the dark arts. That's just something attributed to him now because they had to blame someone for the darkness in the world.
I was young when I came to Hogwarts. I was only eight. I was born out of wedlock to a young maiden who had been raped. I was born when my mother was 14. No one knew about me. It was scandalous. My mother wasn't married at 22. Moreover, the King's daughter at that. My grandfather found a marriage for her at last. Nevertheless, there was no way I could be around. I would surely botch things up. I was just a little basterd.
I'm sorry if I sound bitter. I am. You would be too if the only source of love for you was your mother and that only lasted so long because she resented you because you were a symbol of her loss of innocence. And you'd be even bitterer because her duties as a princess made her agree to give you up. Agree. You can't say I don't have a right to be bitter. You can't say that.
So one day they cast me out. Shoved me through the door. I wasn't angry then. In my mind I was a princess and this was my duty. My duty to be kicked out. They threw me out without food, without money. I was out a week when a kindly and pudgy woman came and asked if I would like to learn how to do magic. She was Helga Hufflepuff. Ms. Helga, well, Ms. Helga took me to a big castle. I asked her if I was being taken back in. Back in where? She wanted to know. The castle I said. She laughed. I was hurt. I know now that Ms. Helga knew I was a princess… she didn't want me to act that way anymore. It wouldn't have helped me at all, she thought, and she was right.
She took me to the great hall in the castle. The ceiling was a brilliant blue… like the sky outside. There was about 20 students sitting at a communal table with three adults. She invited me to sit, invited me to eat. The food was delicious; it was better than the food at home. Taught like a princess I ate lightly, bird bites. Most of the children, students I soon learned, stared at me throughout the entire meal. The children were dismissed to bed and I was led up to a room with a plush carpet. In there I was introduced to Ms. Rowena, Mr. Slytherin and Mr. Gryffindor. They explained to me in child's terms that I was abandoned that I wasn't a princess anymore. They told me that I had magic, but I was too young to learn right now. They said that this was my new home. And that they were my new parents.
I took this as any other child would. I absorbed it, didn't understand it, and let it nag at the back of my mind. They adopted me. I knew all the passages better than my parents did and they had built the place. I Charmed the Fat Lady; Conned a goblin protecting Slytherin Commons, Impressed the large book guarding Ravenclaw tower, and swore to be a friend to the statue protecting Hufflepuff Keep.
I was loyal, I was cunning, I was brave and I was studious. I grew up in the castle never thinking of it as anything but home. I helped the students too. One evening in Gryffindor castle one of my favorite 'sisters' (as the students became for me) was doing her Transfiguration. Her homework was to change a Tortoise into a teapot. She agreed to let me 'help' thinking, as I was only nine at the time, that all I would do was watch. She ran up to her room to get her wand and when she returned her tortoise was a pink china teapot. She demanded to know whose wand I'd used and where I learned to transfigure so well. I laughed and skipped away to my tower.
My tower was just a tower that no one knew how to get to. Despite my cheery nature I was frightened at the teapot's sudden appearance in place of the tortoise. I was touching it, holding into place, really, and thinking of my favorite teapot at my old home. It was a pink china pot with white roses. Then all of the sudden… the reptile was no more and the exact teapot I was thinking of was in it's place. I huddled in my tower until bedtime, hoping that no one would remember.
That night all of my parents tucked me in as usual. They didn't say anything about Rosemary's teapot and for that I was grateful. After they tucked me in they went into the next room. I heard them talking, arguing really. Rowena and Helga were sure that it was a fluke and I had had someone help me in a scheme to surprise Rosemary. Salazar thought that I had borrowed someone else's wand. But Godric. Godric thought that I had did it as Rosemary said. Without a wand and all by myself. I huddled in my bed afraid of my powers. I knew that I had done it. I had done it without a wand too. I felt that I was a freak. Proper witches and Wizards needed wands. I fell asleep in self-loathing.
Two weeks from the day that I first showed my powers was my 10th birthday. I received spell books and storybooks from my parents and small trinkets and toys from my sisters and brothers. It was a happy time. My parents gave a much greater gift than any other did. They told me, when the new term came, that I could join my bothers and sisters in the classroom. I could learn to be a witch. I was joyous, I was ecstatic, and to say the least, I was happy.
Between the terms I took tests for them. They wanted to see my knowledge in all the areas, and sometimes they left me without one of their wands. I hadn't my own and it didn't seem that I get one soon. I was self conscious about not using a wand since that incident. But whenever I got one it never seemed to want to work for me. They weren't at all broken, and just visualizing the change seemed to work the best. No wand involved at all. This distressed me to no end. I just was not normal.
One day they gave me a break from tests. I was in the corner of the library reading a book about a girl who marauded as a boy to become a knight. When I looked up at one point my parents had surrounded me. Do you have trouble using a wand? They asked. I nodded dumbly and I protested. I was still a witch. I was. Just because wands didn't work for me didn't mean I wasn't a witch I said. I could still do the spells. Godric laughed at me. He said I was a special kind of witch. A Semvara. That's what I was. I wanted to know what it meant. Rowena told me that I didn't need a wand. This was perplexing. Wands were standard. Wands made the world go 'round in my opinion. I told them this. Helga put her arm around me comfortingly. She told me I was much too powerful for a wand. I was more powerful than any of my parents. A nod went around the group. They admitted it for me. I felt truly loved.
I was content up until the week before term started. They needed to place me in a house so I could be with other students they said. I said I was happy where I was. Salazar scoffed and told me that I would be much happier with his students where I belonged. Godric stated that I was to be a member of his house. Rowena and Helga each wanted me for their own houses too. Soon I was at the center of a huge fight. Wands were drawn, and I was scared my parents would hurt each other. I ran, stupidly, into the middle of the fight as the first curse was cast. It glanced me. I fell and my whole body hurt. I just wanted to sleep and so I closed my eyes.
When I awake I beg of them not to fight. All around my bed they were weeping and grieving of their mistake. They agree not to, but they wonder how I will be placed if they cannot discuss it. Being smart I suggested a sorting of sorts. They looked at me queerly. I sigh and explain what I had read. An object that could make decisions for you. They think on this and tell me that I will be the first to wear this 'sorting' object. I suggest a hat. That would make reading thoughts all the much easier. After their fight they go off in their newfound truce to tackle this new project. Still tired after being hit with a curse, I fall back to sleep.
I was finally out of bed when the term started. For the first time all of the returning students were lead into the hall and sat at house tables. The new students were led in and stood on the platform in front of all the students. And, as promised, I was called up first to be sorted. They placed an old hat upon my head and it started talking in my ear.
So you were the one behind my creation it said. You're welcome I replied. You have all of your adoptive parent's traits it continued. You're studious like Rowena. Loyal like Helga, cunning and inventive like Salazar. And brave like Godric. You'd do well in any of their houses. Hmm. Indecision. I suggested not being placed in any of their houses. The sorting hat said that that would not do. And so he asked me to choose. I asked to be placed in Gryffindor. Godric's house welcomed people from all walks of life. If you were contemplative, unfailing, chivalrous and ingenious, the perfect place for you is Gryffindor. This satisfied the hat, and I was placed where I asked. I was too delighted to notice the dark glares my parents were giving each other.
I know what you are thinking now. The founder's feud couldn't have possibly have started over a single girl's placement. But that's what it did start over. That's the trouble. They all loved me in their own ways and wanted me to be part of their groups. It's normal, I guess.
I won't bore you with my school years. They were as normal as they could be in a magic school. I was often the top of all my classes… except charms. I just cannot see how making things pretty will help me get anywhere. It wasn't hard being top of the class, but of course it helped that all the older students adored me and it helped I had the teachers as parents as well as having the powers to not have to use a wand. But behind my back (as they had promised they wouldn't) a feud was started. The Chamber of Secrets amongst other things were primed for when I left. It was just as fierce as the history books said, the books are just wrong as to the reason for the feud.
Slytherin didn't hate me and I was a muggle born. He hated all others because I didn't want to be in his house. Gryffindor took my reasoning to heart and the others resented it because there was many a studious girl or boy who was also brave. Or a person who was loyal was also cunning. It wasn't long before he had the most students. But I didn't see the strain between until after I graduated.
Ah… graduation. I had attended many of these ceremonies growing up. Before the ritual the graduate dressed in a robe of pure white. These rituals were as individual as the person taking them was. The spell binding you was a simple one, the basic properties were always the same: white robe, a spell you composed yourself, and a spot of your blood on a white rose.
I don't know how you graduate today. I bet it's a mass and meaningless ceremony where you get pieces of paper that truly mean nothing. All I know is that I avoid it for reasons you will soon understand.
Every person graduated on his or her eighteenth birthday. In the weeks proceeding my ritual binding to the light, I became downhearted. I was beginning to realize that I had really been cast out and not loved by my old family. And in this train of thought, I came to realize that I had never left Hogwarts since I had come here.
When you live in a place for ten years part of your essence is there.
On the day of my eighteenth birthday I stood before the school in my flowing white robes. From somewhere a breeze was blowing. I believe that that was the school crying for my loss. In my left hand I held a white rose and my right hand a sharp dagger. I lifted both above my head to say the spell that would mean I was a full witch and I could never use my powers for dark.
Me to the fair
Fair school where I dwell
Dwell forever in the fair
Maybe forever was too strong a word. Maybe my complete love and devotion of the building where I had grown up was at fault. Maybe it was that I slit my wrists over the rose instead of pricking my finger.
I had more than just bound myself forever to the light. I had bound myself to the school.
Ever wonder how the bags get from the train to all of the dorms in the duration of the feast? I do that. Ever wonder how the first year's bags are already in the right places? My mind conceived of the hat. I'm bound to that too. The food on the table at the flick of a wand? Me. All me. Any and all magic that makes the school run is my doing. The school is alive because I dwell in the walls. I need no wand, and all is done.
If the walls could talk, they'd tell my story.
I am the walls.
A/N: Anyone want to guess how bored I was when I wrote this? If this doesn't make any sense, I'm sorry. Basically the author's note is contained within. Email me KatyD2008@aol.com if you're really confused. Disclaimer: I don't own the founders, the school they founded or much else. Anything you find interesting, ask before taking. Bored stupors are most interesting to work in. ::grin:: See you in the reviews.