A/N: Written for Round 13 of the Quidditch Fan League
Team: Montrose Magpies
Position: Beater 2.
Round prompt: Romance fic, Rowena/Helga
Optional Prompts: 2. (word) crass / 4. (word) history / 10. (style) first person narrative

Thanks to my awesome Magpies team mate firefly81 for beta duties. Go Magpies!

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I could not just stop loving her after she kindly, but firmly, rebuked my advances. From an early age, I knew I was attracted to my own sex, rather than to men. Fortunately, in the somewhat secretive culture I grew up in, this was not seen as an issue. Wasn't the goddess Beda all but married to her fellow goddess Boudihillia?

Sadly by the time I reached my years of womanhood, my culture was all but dead. 'Welsh', or 'foreigners', they now called us old Britons, and we had been driven away to the hills and valleys of the west. With the Roman invaders and later the Angles and Saxons came Christianity and while we held on to our own beliefs for almost a thousand years, by the time I was twelve my own mother had converted and I, too, was baptised, and given a new name. No longer would I be called Hywela, my new name would be Helga, a name that had come to Britain with the Norsemen.

In secret though, I still offer a prayer to the old gods and not the god of the Hebrews. But with Christianity came Christian morals. I was expected to find a husband and start a family, as all the other girls. Faced with the choice of marrying my neighbour's son or exile... I chose the latter.

For several years I travelled through Britain, until I reached the northern areas near my Celtic kin in Scotland. It was a troubled area, as the descendants of the Angles and Saxons had taken over the lowlands, and they were joined by many Norsemen from the Danelaw. I despised their Germanic tongues at first but had learned to speak them on my journeys through the island.

A good thing I did, for somehow I picked up a number of apprentices. You see, I am what is known as a witch – that is what they call me, at least. A wicce, one who consorts with demons to gain power. Ludicrous. My powers are a blessing from the goddess Britannia herself, and She has blessed me with the ability to teach a select few others my craft.

That is how I met the others. One day I was teaching my students when Ivar, one of the Norsemen in our small community, came running up to us. On the outskirts of the village two men were fighting, he said, and they were not using weapons, but magic like I could use!

Needless to say, I ended my lesson and went over there.

A red-haired giant of a man wielding a large sword in his right hand and a wand in his left hand was throwing curses at a smaller, gaunt dark-haired man, who was throwing curses in return. Most of both their curses were intercepted by a shield that was being maintained by a stately, beautiful woman. Her hair was black, her eyes were dark, her skin was pale as snow... and I fell in love at first sight.

'You will cease your fighting now, for this village is under my protection,' I told them once I grounded myself once more.

Both combatants ignored me, although the woman glanced my way. I felt my heart skip a beat.

Annoyed a little at being ignored in such a rude manner, I called on the goddess Ricagamba. I lowered my hands then raised them quickly and the earth beneath the two men opened up and swallowed them to the middle of their torsos, trapping them.

'Now you will listen to me, or I will bury you all the way,' I bristled. I was met by crass insults from the red-haired man, but the dark one looked at me inquisitively. Now the woman stepped forward and introduced herself as Rowena from Raven's Claw, a town which lay in the glens of this country. Her companions she introduced as Godric of Gryffin's Moor (the crass one), lately from the Cornish frontier, and Salazar also known as Slytherin, a stranger from Brittany across the seas.

'And you, fair lady? May I have the honour of learning your name?' Rowena's soft words sounded like music to my ears and I fear I made somewhat of a fool of myself as I blushed and told her I was known Helga.

'Helga who Huffs and Puffs!' a cheeky young man from the village shouted the annoying nickname they had given me and I loudly protested.

'I see why they call you that,' Rowena said, laughter on her voice. I blushed once more and then offered to help her companions escape the earth I had trapped them in.

I invited them to my house since the hour was getting late and they gladly accepted, although Godric was still upset with me for burying him in the ground. We spoke over our meal and I learned that Godric and Salazar had met a number of weeks prior near the great city of the Norsemen, Jorvik. Salazar had crossed over with the Norsemen's boats, having left his home for reasons he would not expand on. Godric happened to be passing through, he worked as a mercenary for hire, and the two men had literally bumped into each other.

From what Salazar told me, Godric had viewed this as a great insult and had demanded restitution. Salazar was a proud man himself and had refused, so they had started fighting. And as often happens when two wizards fight, it did not take long before they used magic.

That is where Rowena found them, in a street of the town, throwing around curses. She lost her temper at the disrespect the two men showed to the possessions of others and forced them to back down, and somehow that had resulted in a form of friendship between the three of them.

The Norsemen however were not as amused and Godric and Salazar were run out of town. Rowena, who was excited to find two wizards, went with them. And that is how they arrived in my home, the small village of Hog's Meadow.

The following morning I invited the three to join my classes. They were a little hesitant at first but since we all knew different spells my students were eager to learn more, as, I admit, was I. One day turned into more, and before we knew it the three had been staying with me for over a month. Word of mouth slowly spread, and my initial class of ten students had grown to almost forty!

I was also falling deeply in love with Rowena. She had a grace I had not seen in others and was incredibly skilled. She was also understanding and kind. A single word from her was often enough to calm Godric and Salazar if they started brawling, and often she managed to avoid them from clashing in the first place.

By this time the two men had taken over another house in the village, although Rowena still shared mine. She was teaching me to read one evening when I had a thought. 'Rowena, I think we are creating history here,' I told her. Rowena, intrigued, encouraged me to continue.
'Have you ever heard of this many students learning wizardry and witchcraft in a single place? It seems that every week, new students arrive. And the four of us all seem to be natural teachers.'

'But Helga, we are just copying what you do,' Rowena told me modestly.

I flushed all over and stammered something.

'My dear Helga, you are great witch yourself and should be proud,' Rowena said, encouragingly.

And that is when I crossed the distance between us and kissed her. To my dying day I will remember how her lips felt against mine, and how her initial reaction of shock mellowed shortly after, and she embraced me. But this would not last, for she softly pushed me away a little later.

'Why... why did we stop? Did I do something wrong?' I asked her, worried.

Rowena just smiled sadly and informed me that Godric had asked for her hand, and she had accepted. But she hoped we would still be friends.

I lied to both her and myself that day, and told her we could remain friends. We retired to our own beds a while later when the light turned too dark to continue to read and I waited until she was asleep before I cried, cried at having found the perfect witch only to lose her before I even had a chance.

I never dared kiss Rowena again or tell her I loved her, but I think she knew. We did become good friends, best friends even. When a year or so later our group of students had grown to nearly a hundred, it became clear that Hog's Meadow was not capable of supporting so many. We four talked about our school, for it had become clear we were running one now, and the plans for the future.

With my perseverance, Godric's sheer power of will, Rowena's wisdom, and Salazar's trickery all combined, we managed to convince the local landowner to sell the Hog's Valley to us for a pittance. For a year we, helped by our students, used our magic to erect a structure in the valley, overlooking the lake. By the end of the year a huge hall had been built, flanked with stones strong enough to hold off an army, and protected by the strongest wards we could create.

And so here I sit, in the school some call the Hog's Wards, gazing at Rowena again. She is standing in front of sixty young wizards and witches and is teaching them the art of Conjuration. Momentarily she catches my eye and I receive a small smile before she returns to her lessons. Her marriage to Godric is planned for the fall equinox, and I do not know how I will survive... but no time to focus on that now. I have my own students waiting for me, eager to learn the secrets of magical plant care.