Helga felt a little helpless having to lean on her partner, Kingsley, to get to the infirmary, but she said nothing. She knew that she just needed a little rest and perhaps something suitable to finish closing the wound. When they arrived at the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey received them worriedly. She immediately rushed to heal Helga's wound. With a couple of incantations and an ointment applied, as well as a subsequent bandage, everything was solved. Helga could have done it herself if the circumstances had been different.
"You should rest now," Madam Pomfrey said. "I can offer you a sleeping potion if you wish."
"I don't think I need it, but I thank you."
"I'll leave it on the bedside table."
"Thank you."
Helga lay down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. She did not want to take potions to sleep because they dulled the senses; she didn't want to experience the dullness of a sleeping draught at that moment. Just a potion to soothe the pain a little. She didn't need more.
"After this, we may have a few weeks off," Kingsley told her. "It's good that you don't have to worry about the official report yet, although you'll have to submit your own report."
"I guessed so. This business of preparing mock reports during the last year is boring preparation for when I have the official plaque."
"For now, rest. I'll stay here."
"Thank you, Kingsley."
Little by little, Helga closed her eyes, falling into the world of dreams. In her mind, at that moment, images of the past were evoked.
Helga looked out the wooden window at the outside. She currently lived in a small village where most of the houses were practically identical. It was a completely magical village, one of those that was beginning to be threatened by the extreme ideological activities of Muggles. Helga was becoming increasingly aware that the magical way of life was under growing threat from non-magical people; she didn't see it improving in the short term. In recent years, there had been several epidemics, and the Muggles blamed them on wizards and witches, much in the same way that the Romans had blamed Christians when misfortune befell them, accusing and persecuting them until the arrival of Constantine I "The Great."
"Any news?" Helga's mentor inquired.
"Not much, Master," replied the very young Helga Hufflepuff, setting aside her thoughts and turning to face her mentor. "A woman has brought her son with a fever. It looked like a sore throat. I have given him potions—a potion for fever and another to reduce the inflammation. I hope that in three days he will improve."
"Good job."
Helga had been an apprentice for a couple of years. Her father had taught her a great deal about magic, about its different branches, but she had wanted to specialise in healing and caring for others, treating their wounds, diseases. Healing was something Helga had wanted to do from the beginning. So her father had found her a suitable teacher with whom to learn, a teacher who would agree to teach a woman, as the prevailing societal view was that women should stay at home and dedicate themselves to family and household. Helga sighed. Her father had always valued her differently, teaching and treating her the same as her siblings, not viewing her as an instrument to be sold to the highest bidder for profit. Women were often tools for political exchange. Helga's siblings had not viewed this favourably, partly because such progressive ideas hadn't taken root with them, and partly because they resented being less skilled than her; they had been against her receiving a full education from the beginning. Fortunately, her father was still the head of the family and the one who made the decisions; her brothers had little to say about a decision once made.
Helga had noticed that the general fear of wizards being attacked by people without magic was gradually increasing. She could not deny the terror that circulated among magical people, especially those who lived in Muggle areas or in magical areas too close to expanding Muggle populations. She could notice it in the inhabitants of that village: the uncertainty of when they would or would not be attacked. Many of them had not been able to train well in the control of magic, so they taught their children what they could. On more than one occasion, Helga had considered taking on her own apprentices; but she lacked the depth of magical knowledge to transmit it properly, she lacked the training and extensive experience needed to reach the point of being able to teach others. She thought that the future lay in the transmission of knowledge to large groups.
"Go get some rest, Helga."
"Yes, Master."
Helga had a room for rent in the village guesthouse. It wasn't much, but it was enough to live decently. She left the healer's house and went to the guesthouse. She would rest a little, a few hours, and then get to work on a project she had half-finished; something that, if successful, could be very beneficial. Helga had noticed that sometimes large quantities of potions had to be administered to achieve an adequate effect. So she was working on a way to enhance potions so that with a lower dose, they could achieve a better effect. Helga had thought about using a container, a bowl, or a cup. But the most important aspect was the elements to constitute it, among which was pure gold. Finding gold was simple; the difficult thing was to purify it, but Helga would find a way to do it.
A slight puncture in her side woke Helga up; it was the wound causing her pain. But she did not want to take another dose of painkiller unnecessarily. Helga was well acquainted with the secondary effects of each of the potions used in healing, both from her past experience as a healer and from having a father who was a healer, and having invested her time in learning about the advances over the centuries. No, Helga would not take more medication than necessary. It was possible the pain had woken her, but it wasn't intense enough to warrant an extra dose.
Helga heard murmurs in the distance, sure they came from the very room she was in, the infirmary. She focused on trying to distinguish the voices, as they both seemed similar to her. They were two people: Salazar and Kingsley. Helga couldn't make out what they were talking about, but she could tell that they were very close together during that conversation. Curiously, Helga wasn't very worried about what might come of it. Helga took a deep breath before forcing her mind back into the world of dreams, thinking as she did so about her family, her former friends, and Salazar.
A couple of years ago, Helga had returned to her family home in the green valleys of the Kingdom of Wales. Her training as a healer was complete, at least at a basic level. The rest she had achieved on her own: knowledge and its magical layers. Her father was not feeling well at that time, so Helga divided her time between caring for him and attending the office she had opened, despite the disapproving looks from her siblings. Helga saw her father deteriorating more and more.
"My offer still stands, Helga," said her childhood friend, Edgard Thomcs. "You know your brothers won't waste any time once your father is gone."
"I know. They think I don't know, but I know they're in negotiations with the Smith family."
"Those pretentious lot?" Edgard frowned in disgust. "They pretend to be incredibly powerful just because they've found gold in their mines."
"I don't like them, Edgard."
"That's why I'm telling you. Think."
Helga looked at her friend. She knew that Edgard did not feel comfortable with women, at least on an intimate level, and that he was under pressure from his family to find a suitable wife. Helga had valued that, at the very least, he would respect her and allow her to be herself. Helga had already made up her mind.
"I don't have much to think about. Let's sort it out now that we can. I would rather live a loveless marriage with a friend than a loveless marriage with someone who was reputed to enjoy putting women in their place; someone like that would take away all freedom."
They agreed everything between both families, and Helga kept part of the dowry. They settled in that same place, in the upper part of the office. Helga was a specialist in healing others, Edgard in repairs; that's how they managed to live.
One day, wizards arrived from other parts, from different regions of Wales and from other kingdoms. It was a duelling competition. Helga would make sure to tend to the wounded, but she also wanted to participate.
"Go ahead," said her husband, Edgard. "You're an excellent duellist. Just enjoy yourself."
"I don't agree. It's not a woman's place," said one of Helga's brothers, Alric. Alric was still upset that he had not been able to marry his sister off to Darin Smith, even though he had made other deals with him. In the face of that, Helga could do nothing.
"She's my wife," Edgard said. "She doesn't have to answer to you."
"A marriage isn't a marriage without children. Do you ever plan to have them?" Alric pressed.
"That's our business," Helga said coldly to her brother.
"I wasn't talking to you," Alric snapped.
Both Helga and Edgard ignored him and went about their business. Edgard signed a consent for Helga to participate, and she fully immersed herself in the competition. Most of Helga's opponents were quite easy to defeat; many were not very skilled, and some underestimated her for being a woman. Helga didn't celebrate it, because she didn't believe in celebrating easy victories; she believed in effort, and if one didn't have to strive for victory, it wasn't that important. The last opponent Helga had to fight was the wizard who had knocked her brother Alric and Darin Smith out of the competition. His name: Salazar Slytherin. That could be a challenge. Helga had been watching him throughout the competition; he was someone with whom she could push her skills to the limit. That, in that phase of her development, Helga liked because she could train more, learn. As long as that man took the duel seriously, and wasn't lazy enough to underestimate her. The duel began. Helga was happy to see that Salazar did not slacken, but on the contrary, did not stop pressing. They were constantly exchanging dominance in the duel, neither imposing themselves fully on the other. It was clear that, of the two, the one who managed to sustain the duel for the longest time would win. Hours passed in that situation, until finally Helga managed to disarm Salazar.
"I feel very honoured to have had a worthy rival," Salazar said, holding out his hand. He seemed impressed.
"The pleasure is mine," Helga replied.
That was the beginning of a long and fruitful friendship. A friendship that would lead both to develop feelings they could never verbalise; because they did not find themselves in a position to give free rein to those feelings. Salazar stayed for dinner with them, and they agreed to keep in touch when the wizard announced his departure.
"Sometimes I wish you were less compassionate and more selfish. But that is precisely what I like about you, my dear Helga."
"I wish things were different. Be careful, Salazar; and come back soon."
"I'll be back."
When Salazar returned, he did so with a shy-looking woman. Helga saw at once that Salazar was not as serene as he apparently seemed. Helga knew him well enough to see through his facade; also to know that she should not pressure him. Did Helga like Salazar? Yes, she loved him, but fate had not dealt them the cards so that they could be together in fullness. It was one night, almost a year later, that Salazar told Helga everything; just a few days after Salazar's wife gave birth.
"My brother did not die of natural causes. I suspected at the time that the Gaunts got him out of the way. My sister married one a few months before that," Salazar explained. "I have received a letter confirming my suspicions."
"Your brother's death?" Helga asked.
"In part, but that's not all. The Gaunts wish to be the only ones to continue the Slytherin bloodline; to absorb the lineage."
"Did they tell you that in a letter?" Helga pressed.
"The letter is a threat. It urges us to give up the name and surname in favour of them," Salazar said grimly. "I must protect my family."
"We'll help you. We have always looked out for each other," Helga promised.
"I know. I'll talk to Rowena and Godric later."
"Will you leave again?" Helga asked worriedly. The castle was safe enough to keep Salazar's family safe; however, Helga had no doubt that her friend would not want to run the risk of these madmen showing up and harming his students.
"No. They would follow me wherever I went, and I could not guarantee their safety. Nor can they stay here."
"I see you've thought about this a lot," Helga observed.
"Since I knew I was going to be a father. It was one of the alternatives I could expect."
"May I know what you will do?" Helga asked.
"I will bind the powers of my offspring, and they will remain hidden through several generations until they awaken in the future. I don't know when they will awaken, but they will in time. They will flee from here and settle down as far away as possible, with a different surname. No magic. I will not have contact with them, nor will they with anything magical. They will be a widow with her newborn, and from the moment the plan goes into action, I will be nothing more than a widowed man. I will need your cooperation in terms of news."
"You want us to be the ones who create and spread the news," Helga clarified.
"That's right. As soon as everything is ready."
The meeting in which Salazar communicated this resolution to everyone was somewhat tense. Helga didn't like that her friend had to go to such extremes, but it seemed to be the only acceptable way out. It was either that or murder all the Gaunts, from old people to children, and Salazar had his principles. They took advantage of the warm season to make everything a little easier, since there were no witnesses who could affirm the opposite. None of the four ever knew what surname Salazar's family adopted; cutting off communications entirely was part of that, of not having the possibility of contacting them. Even so, Salazar managed everything with the Goblins so that only his true blood could make claims; no one who had a single drop of Gaunt blood would ever be considered his heir. Those events left them all a little bitter; no one liked that a friend had to alter his life so much for a family of madmen.
Helga knew that even if Salazar didn't say so, he didn't want to start a relationship with anyone, for Salazar did not want anyone else to be threatened because they were too close to him. So, in front of the public, Salazar began to show himself somewhat more distant; subtle gestures that would make the audience believe that he was not so united with the rest.
Helga was in a semi-awake state, trying to fall asleep again, when she noticed she was gently awakened. She half-opened her eyes and saw that it was the nurse. Helga sat up a little to drink the potion Madam Pomfrey was giving her. It was another dose of the soothing potion. It must be time for a new dose. Even if Helga didn't say anything, internally she was grateful for it; the pain numbed her a little. Helga waited long enough to be able to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night. Rarely had she woken up and gone back to sleep so many times over the course of a single night. Helga lay down again and waited for sleep to call her again.
Helga felt that she had been calm for hours; for the moment, it had not hurt again, but it seemed that she had stayed awake a little. Probably because it would be close to, or it was the time when she normally got up. Only Helga didn't feel like it very much. Helga heard in the distance the crowing of Hagrid's roosters; it must have been close to dawn. She could still rest a little longer. Now the pain was more of a nuisance than anything else. That was indicative that things were going well.
The school, over time, became more famous. Between the four of them, they trained the first generations from which formidable students emerged, many of whom, in time, would be ready for teaching. It was something they were already planning from the beginning: someone to pass the baton to, who would continue their legacy when they were no longer there. That is why they created the Sorting Hat, which they began to use a couple of years ago. It wasn't perfect, but they had to do something to ensure their school would endure for posterity.
Salazar was the first to die; it happened during an early morning. It was a week before the students arrived at the castle, when a wizard whom they did not recognise—for he was neither one of their students nor had he ever been—stormed the castle. As far as they could tell, he came from a family of dark wizards, and his grandfather had been defeated and captured by one of their former students. A brilliant student from Hufflepuff House who had decided to dedicate his life to making the world a fairer place.
The attack caught all four of them by surprise. The dark wizard managed to wound Helga as soon as the duel began, making her almost immediately the vulnerable point. They didn't know where he got his power, but it seemed that the very darkness with which he enveloped himself fed him.
Helga saw it all happen in slow motion: the dark wizard casting an unknown curse at her; a curse that emitted a green light, and Salazar removing her from its path, receiving the curse instead. As soon as it happened, Godric and Rowena increased the intensity of their attacks on the dark wizard while Helga checked on Salazar's condition. Salazar was dead and had no perceptible wound, no visible trace to explain it; a curse that cut his life short—that was horrifying. Helga returned to the fight with a dangerous look on her face; between the three of them, they managed to defeat him. They only disarmed and chained him, but that wizard would not survive beyond that night either. As soon as he was chained, he died.
"Unbreakable Vow," Rowena murmured as she examined the wizard. Such vows had existed since the Egyptian era and were a very serious thing. "And Salazar?"
"That spell killed him on the spot," Helga told them.
"It is not possible that such a curse should exist!" cried Godric.
"Well, it exists," Helga replied grimly.
They gave their friend a proper burial. The biggest problem was to explain Salazar's absence. They told what happened without giving too many details. The Gaunts soon tried to get their hands on Salazar's legacy, his fortune, and his share of the school. It was denied to them, and they swore revenge on everyone for it. The greatest consequence of Salazar's death was that, little by little, the unity of the school fragmented, something that was imperceptible at first. Neither Helga nor the other two realised what was happening.
The second to leave was Rowena. She fell ill months after Helena's abrupt departure and never recovered. She simply lost the will to live, to fight, and abandoned herself to the disease. Some time after Rowena's death, Helena returned in the form of a ghost, followed by the ghostly form of the boy that Rowena had sent for her.
"I don't want to talk about what happened," was all Helena said. Both Helga and Godric respected her wishes.
Godric was a different story. He had always been very energetic and also ate enough to be very strong. There was no way to make him see that his eating habits were not good. Helga had always seen that those who ate so poorly and in large quantities got sick and eventually died; but since she didn't know what specifically caused it, she had no way of remedying it. Godric's decline began with him getting fatigued when climbing the stairs or doing some significant physical work, and he stopped doing physical exercise. One afternoon, it was all over; he put a hand to his chest and did not leave the infirmary. He did not recover. Helga was left alone to manage the school, becoming the first Headmistress of Hogwarts.
All her friends had ended up dying, and Helga only knew about her son through letters. She wrote to him at first at the times of the equinoxes and solstices, then once a year, and after a long time, she stopped receiving letters.
Helga found it in the forest near the castle grounds, one afternoon in October when she was going to collect some ingredients for potions. She heard it chirp; it was the trill of a bird she had never heard before. Helga went over to see what it was. It was a phoenix, a baby phoenix. Helga had never seen one in person, only in engravings and some texts. She approached the little creature and gently stroked it. The little phoenix looked at Helga and climbed into her hand. Helga immediately noticed that something linked her to the little phoenix. The phoenix had bonded with her.
"Hello, little one," Helga greeted softly.
"Hello," chirped the phoenix.
"Do you have a name?" Helga asked.
"Fawkes," the phoenix replied.
"It's nice to meet you; I'm Helga." If someone had told Helga that after losing all her friends she would find a new friend, she would never have believed it.
Years passed, and Fawkes became the best company Helga had in the final stage of her life. A suitable companion who helped her care for the school. Helga, in her last days, noticed how little time she had left to put everything in order. She had already decided who would take her place and organised the future management team.
"Fawkes, there's little time left," Helga whispered.
"I notice it," Fawkes replied, his voice a gentle chime.
"I would like to ask you one last favour. Stay as Hogwarts' Guardian."
"I will. And I will be the guide of those who need to be guided or watched."
"I thank you, Fawkes. We'll see each other again at some point, you know." Helga had told Fawkes, the same afternoon they met, about Rowena's perceived threat and what she and her friends had done to reincarnate. "If at any time you find or recognise one of my friends and you can help, do it."
Helga opened her eyes at last. The sun was beginning to stream through the infirmary window. She sat up feeling somewhat numb. Salazar was on the stretcher in front of hers, his arm in a sling, eating his own breakfast. In the other part of the infirmary was Kingsley, who seemed to be talking calmly to young Weasley as they played a game of chess. It was a good strategy. Helga imagined that Salazar had told Kingsley to distract Ron with chess. Helga immediately noticed that she had breakfast on the table, ready to be eaten. She looked at Salazar questioningly; she wouldn't ask him. Not at the moment. Not until they were alone.