The weeks bled into months as September gave way to October. Salazar's arm had yet to fully heal; the new skin over the wound remained fragile and red. He was glad there was a capable replacement on the Gryffindor team, as he was in no condition to play in the upcoming match against Slytherin. He attended a couple of training sessions to observe, but spent most of his time writing essays and conferring with Godric and Helga, wondering when Rowena would finally appear.
In mid-October, the long-awaited Quidditch match took place in the midst of a torrential storm. It was one of the worst downpours anyone could remember for a school event. Godric had commented that the Dementors' presence seemed to be exacerbating the weather, and Salazar agreed, wondering why the match hadn't been postponed. It was far too dangerous. He could understand the students, in their desire for victory, overlooking the risk, but the teachers? Had the house rivalry blinded them to their duty of care? It certainly seemed so.
Salazar and Godric arrived at the stands wearing Muggle rain macs—simple plastic ponchos with hoods. Their practical choice drew a fair bit of laughter, which bothered Godric but left Salazar entirely indifferent. A waterproof mac was far more sensible than an umbrella, which the wind could easily snatch and turn into a projectile.
The match was pure chaos. Powerful gusts of wind sent players careening off course. The Chasers had to shorten their passes, making them easy targets for the Bludgers, and the storm was only growing stronger.
"What's the score?" a dreamy voice asked beside them. It was Luna, the Ravenclaw girl from the carriage. "You can't see the scoreboards from here."
"Forty-thirty to Slytherin," Godric replied, shouting over the wind. "If the Snitch isn't caught soon, everyone's going to freeze."
"With this visibility, that's unlikely," Salazar added, his eyes scanning the grey sky. "This match should have been cancelled."
"Quidditch is never cancelled," Luna said matter-of-factly. "My father has copies of every match report from his school days."
"Do any of them mention a storm like this?" Godric asked.
"No," she replied, then tilted her head. "Harry, what's wrong?"
Salazar's face was a grim mask. The Seekers had vanished into the swirling clouds, and a thick fog was now rolling across the pitch. His body tensed, his hand hovering over his left forearm, ready to draw his wand. The air grew colder, the fog thicker.
"Blimey," Godric cursed, his own wand now in hand. "Dementors."
"The Patronus Charm, Neville," Salazar said, meeting his friend's eye. This was their chance to use the charm publicly. "Let's do it."
"Look!" Luna cried, pointing upwards.
A flash of lightning illuminated the sky. One Seeker, Draco Malfoy, had the Snitch clutched in his hand. The other, Ginny Weasley, was plummeting unconscious from her broom. Her brothers, Fred and George, abandoned their posts and dove after her, desperately trying to break her fall.
"Expecto Patronum!" Salazar and Godric shouted in unison.
A silver Pegasus erupted from Godric's wand, soaring onto the pitch to circle the stands. From Salazar's, a spectral Thestral shot into the sky, driving back the descending Dementors. They were immediately joined by a graceful Lynx and a sturdy Badger. A moment later, a magnificent Phoenix—the Headmaster's—appeared, and together the five spectral guardians drove the Dementors and their chilling fog from the stadium.
"Prefects!" Dumbledore's magically amplified voice boomed. "Escort all students back to their common rooms immediately!"
As the stands emptied, Salazar and Godric knew the whispers had already begun. They would need a plausible explanation for their advanced magic. They tacitly agreed on a story: after the incident on the train, they had researched defences against Dementors and had been extremely lucky to successfully cast the charm.
A few days later, the castle was abuzz with a new rumour. The Daily Prophet had reported that Sirius Black had been sighted near Hogsmeade back in September. The Ministry, it seemed, had kept it quiet to avoid a panic. On the afternoon before the first Hogsmeade trip, Salazar was summoned to Professor McGonagall's office.
"We cannot permit you to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Harry," she stated, her expression severe.
"Why not, Professor?" he asked calmly, though he already knew the answer.
"Because it isn't safe. And for that matter, your continued presence on the Quidditch team is also under review."
"Professor, if it's not safe to go to Hogsmeade, why hasn't the trip been cancelled for everyone?" he countered, his tone respectful but firm. "Last year, Quidditch was cancelled for the entire school because a threat was inside the castle. If there's a danger now, why does it only apply to me?"
"I am not at liberty to say, Harry."
"Then you are not at liberty to stop me. I have my signed permission slip. Unless there is a specific reason why the danger is greater for me than for anyone else, I see no grounds to forbid me from going."
"Headmaster Dumbledore is concerned for your safety. He does not think it is appropriate."
"What is the danger?"
"The Headmaster does not feel it is necessary for you to know. You will not go to Hogsmeade. That is the end of the matter."
"Understood," Harry said with analytical calm. "I can't go to the village, but I can continue playing Quidditch because it's in Gryffindor's interest to keep their Seeker." He met her eyes. "In that case, Professor, the team can do without my services. If I am in some unique danger, I will not risk my teammates' lives for a trophy."
"Harry, please... Do not make this difficult."
"I'm not the one making it difficult, Professor. If I am in danger, I have a right to know. Neither you nor the Headmaster can deny me information that pertains to my own safety."
"The Headmaster would be furious if I told you," she admitted, her voice strained.
With those words, Salazar saw the conflict warring within her: her orders versus her conscience. He knew she cared for her students, and he also knew she was fiercely competitive. He had struck a nerve. He waited, letting the silence stretch.
"Professor," he prompted gently. "What is going on?"
"It's Sirius Black," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "He has escaped from Azkaban... to kill you."
Salazar let himself look shocked, as any thirteen-year-old would. He leaned forward, rubbing his temples as if processing the news. "But the papers said he was just a madman. How can you be so sure?"
"When Voldemort went after your parents, Albus advised them to hide under the Fidelius Charm. Do you know what that is?"
"A secret is hidden within a person's soul. Only that person, the Secret-Keeper, can reveal it."
"A fine summary. Twenty points to Gryffindor." She took a deep breath. "Your parents appointed Sirius Black as their Secret-Keeper. He betrayed them to Voldemort."
"Why would they choose a Death Eater?"
"He wasn't one. Sirius Black was your father's best friend. He was the best man at their wedding. And when you were born..." Her voice wavered.
"When I was born, what?"
"He was named your godfather."
A tense silence filled the office. Salazar remained outwardly stoic, but his mind was racing. Betrayal was a sin he could not abide. He would make Black pay. But something else troubled him. If Black was his magical godfather, a bond sworn with magic, the oath itself should have prevented him from knowingly causing him harm. Revealing his family's location to a psychopath would certainly count as causing harm.
"Are you all right, Potter?"
"Yes, Professor. Just thinking." He looked up, his expression resolved. "You have my word, I will not cross the castle gates without authorisation. As for Quidditch, do you know how I might acquire two new brooms? The one Ginny was using was destroyed in the storm."
"Two brooms is a considerable expense."
"I can afford it. Perhaps not two Nimbuses, but a new Comet and a good racing broom."
"I understand replacing your own, but why one for Miss Weasley?"
"She's a natural. She has the instincts of a Chaser but the reflexes of a Seeker. She is an excellent addition to the team. Why not invest in her now and have her as a permanent player? The longer our players are on the team, the better their synergy will be. And, Professor," he added with a slight smile, "we both want Gryffindor to win, don't we?"
"Of course," she said, a hint of a smile touching her own lips. "But the Weasleys are a proud family. They won't accept charity."
"I have that in mind, Professor."
---
After the meeting, Harry stood in the corridor with Godric and the Weasley twins. In the distance, he could see Helga watching them, and he was certain she was paying close attention. Harry recounted what had happened in McGonagall's office, omitting his personal connection to Sirius Black but giving his friend a meaningful look. He would explain later. As expected, the twins protested, but Harry quickly downplayed their concerns, highlighting the specific semantics he had used and giving them a mischievous smile. He all but stated that if he wanted to go, he would find a way.
"Well, we were going to give you this for Christmas," Fred began.
"But we know it by heart now," George continued. "It's time to pass the baton."
"This, Harry, is the key to our success."
"It's hard to part with it," Fred admitted. "But we feel the time has come. You'll put it to good use."
"Don't worry, Neville is trustworthy. He's a true Gryffindor," Harry assured them as they handed him what looked like a blank piece of old parchment. He could sense a potent, complex magic locked within it. It was a mixture of tracking and concealment charms, neither dark nor light.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Very observant, Harry."
"Show him, Fred."
Fred tapped his wand to the parchment and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Immediately, intricate lines of ink began to spread across the surface like veins.
"It's a map of the castle!" Godric exclaimed in an admiring whisper.
"And it tracks everyone in it," Harry added, noting that their names were present and accounted for. "And these... these are secret passages that lead off the grounds." He pointed to a tunnel he already knew existed. The map was incredibly detailed, though he noted the common rooms, the Chamber of Secrets, and the Room of Requirement were missing.
"Top marks for Harry!" the twins chorused.
"Did you make this?" Godric asked, astounded.
"Not us. We owe it all to Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred said, pointing to the signatures on the map.
"We nicked it from Filch's office in our first year," George explained. "He'd caught us mid-prank and was threatening us with all sorts of medieval tortures. We saw this parchment in a drawer labelled 'Confiscated and Highly Dangerous'."
"So George created a diversion while I... borrowed it," Fred finished with a grin.
"A permanent loan," George clarified.
"It's brilliant," Harry acknowledged. He saw such potential in them; they were quintessential Gryffindors, but they had the cunning and ambition that would have earned them a place in his own House. "How do you hide it?"
"Easy," they said in unison. Tapping the map, they intoned, "Mischief managed!" The ink vanished.
"How will you manage your own mischief now?" Godric asked.
"We have other resources," George said. "We're starting to invent our own joke products. We want to open a shop one day."
"I can help with that," Harry said calmly. "You and your family have treated me as one of your own since the beginning. I'd like to return the favour." He had already decided on gifts for the others. "I'm getting your sister a new broom. Ron is getting adjustable Keeper's gear—he has the potential to be one of the best. And Percy is getting an updated compendium of magical law. But for you two... the only fitting gift is a capital investment for the development of your products and your future shop. What do you say?"
"That's... that's too much, Harry," Fred said, stunned.
"It's not," Harry replied firmly. "You have the talent to achieve something great. What kind of person would I be if I didn't help you when I have the means?"
"Establish a market for your products now, while you're still at Hogwarts," Harry advised. "And the rest will follow."
"That's... fantastic," George said, finding his voice. "But we can only accept if you agree to be our business partner. Non-negotiable."
"Deal," Harry said with a smile. "Whatever it takes to make your dream a reality."
Neville Longbottom / Godric Gryffindor
The Halloween feast was enjoyable, but the night took a dark turn when they returned to their tower. The portrait of the Fat Lady was in tatters, slashed and hanging from its frame. Peeves cackled from above, gleefully reporting that Sirius Black had entered the castle and tried to force his way into the common room. The teachers arrived moments later, and the decision was made to move all students to the Great Hall for safety. Godric thought it was a terrible idea.
"This is nonsense," he complained to Salazar as they were herded downstairs. "We'd be safer behind the common room's own magical defences. Now they're taking all the other houses out of their secure dormitories and putting everyone in one vulnerable location."
"What's more worrying is how he breached the castle's wards in the first place," Salazar observed. "No one with malicious intent should be able to enter."
"Do you think he's still here?"
"Either in the castle or close by. We'll find him eventually."
"Are you going after him?"
"No. Not unless the circumstances are perfect. I'll wait for him to come to me." They settled into their sleeping bags, slightly apart from the main group.
"What was he looking for?" Godric asked. "You speak as if you know."
"Me," Salazar said quietly. "Apparently my godfather wants to kill me."
"Yes, but if he's your magical godfather, the oath wouldn't allow him to harm you..."
"Neither directly nor indirectly. I know. But given the influence of Muggle culture, we can't be certain it was a magically sworn vow."
"I'll write to my grandmother," Godric decided. "As I recall, your mother was my godmother. She might know something."
"Tomorrow, we'll find Helga and show her the map."
"I'll contact her," Godric said. "With the Aurors' orders not to interfere, it would look suspicious if they saw you getting too close to one of them. I don't know what game the Headmaster is playing."
"The role of the adult who 'protects' a child by keeping them ignorant," Salazar replied dryly.
Sleeping in the Great Hall was far from comfortable. Godric was restless, fighting the urge to go out and deal with the problem himself. He had to constantly remind himself that he was a student and needed to act like one.
He spent most of the next morning searching for Helga. It took some time to find her alone; her Auror partner, Kingsley, seemed to be watching her closely. He finally caught her for a few moments when they separated on patrol. Helga confirmed she would meet them at the entrance to the Room of Requirement that evening.
That evening, around eight o'clock, he and Salazar were on their way to the seventh floor when they were stopped short by a scene in a side corridor. Four fifth-year Ravenclaws had cornered Luna Lovegood. A single glance was all it took for Godric and Salazar to decide to intervene. They would not tolerate bullying in their school.
"Four against one," Salazar's voice cut through the corridor—not a shout, but a soft, cold tone that immediately drew their attention. "You must feel terribly insecure to harass someone younger than you in a group. Is Luna outshining you in class?"
"I doubt it, Harry," Godric added, his voice laced with mock pity. "I think they're just struggling to keep up with their own year mates and need to feel superior by picking on a second-year." He looked them up and down, an open challenge in his eyes. "In fact, I'd wager a third-year could wipe the floor with all four of you."
"Potter and Longbottom," sneered the leader. "The squib-in-waiting and Dumbledore's golden boy. You should stay out of things that don't concern you."
Godric saw Helga at a fork in the corridor ahead, watching from the shadows. She couldn't intervene in a student brawl because of Dumbledore's orders. He also spotted the Grey Lady, Helena Ravenclaw's ghost, observing the scene with an unnerving stillness.
"Actually, you mess with our friend, you mess with us," Salazar stated simply. "And I defend my friends."
"And neither of us will tolerate bullies," Godric finished, his hand moving to his wand.
The duel was short and brutal. The fifth-years fired a volley of hexes. Godric attacked, Salazar defended. They stunned the two slower opponents almost instantly, enraging the other two. At that moment, Godric saw Helga conjure her Patronus, sending it off as an alarm. They had to restrain themselves, using only spells appropriate for their age, but it was enough.
Professor Sprout arrived moments later, disarming all four of them with a single spell.
"Potter and Longbottom attacked us!" the Ravenclaw leader immediately cried. "We were just defending ourselves!"
"I see," said the teacher, her eyes stern. "Mr Potter, Mr Longbottom, your version?"
"We were defending our friend Luna from this charming quartet," Salazar replied. "I've always despised bullying, Professor. I've simply decided to stop looking the other way."
"We asked them to stop," Godric added. "Perhaps insulting their courage wasn't the best way to go about it, in hindsight."
"Auror Tonks," Professor Sprout said, turning to the shadows. "You alerted me. What did you witness?"
Helga stepped into the light, and the Ravenclaw boys turned pale. "I was on patrol," she said, her voice professional and crisp. "These four students had Miss Lovegood cornered when Potter and Longbottom arrived. Words were exchanged. The four of them drew their wands and attacked simultaneously. Potter and Longbottom disabled two of them and were holding their own against the other two. I raised the alarm at that point. I would have intervened myself, but the Headmaster's orders forbid it."
"No doubt you would have disregarded that guideline if things had escalated," Professor Sprout observed shrewdly. "You four," she said, turning to the Ravenclaws, "will have detention with me in the greenhouses after dinner. Fifty points from Ravenclaw. Now get out of my sight." As they scurried away, she looked at Godric and Salazar. "I cannot approve of you taking matters into your own hands, but I commend you for defending a fellow student. You were lucky. Be more prudent next time. There will be no punishment."
She left, presumably to report to the Headmaster.
"Thank you," Luna said, her wide eyes full of gratitude. "Are we really friends?"
"Of course, Luna," Salazar said with a warm smile.
"I'll walk you back to your common room," Godric offered, picking up her fallen satchel.
"Thank you, Neville," she said dreamily. "You're heavenly."
Godric left with Luna, leaving Salazar and Helga alone in the corridor. As he walked away, he passed the Grey Lady. The ghost looked directly at him, and for a fleeting moment, he saw a flicker of undeniable recognition in her spectral eyes. He had to tell the others. Something was happening.