Salazar left the common room before the others woke up, before Ron and Ginny could get into another argument. To be honest, he didn't want to deal with it. He walked to the Entrance Hall, intending to go out for a walk on the grounds while reminiscing about his night with Helga. At that moment, he thought it would have been better to stay with her in the Shrieking Shack than to return to the common room, but that couldn't have been. His absence would have been too noticeable. They were watching him closely, both because he was Harry Potter and because his name had come out of the Goblet.
"Potter."
Salazar turned in the direction he'd been called. It was Cedric Diggory, who was leaning against the wall next to the door leading to the dungeons, gesturing for him to approach.
"Diggory. What can I do for you?"
"I haven't thanked you for the dragon yet."
"Getting those who still wore the badges to put them away was thanks enough."
"Smith still wears his."
"Smith is Smith; he's not very bright."
"True. He thinks he owns the Hufflepuff house just because his family is descended from the founder," Cedric said with a laugh, as if he doubted the claim himself.
"That's what they say," Salazar murmured, the danger beginning to creep into his voice. He didn't know that information, but along with the things Helga herself had told him… he wouldn't be surprised if those Smiths were the descendants of the man with whom Helga's brother did "business" by marrying his daughter when he couldn't force his own sister into the marriage. "But anyway, I don't think it was Smith you wanted to tell me about."
"No. I want to make it up to you for the dragon thing. Information for information."
Salazar looked at the boy. He seemed sincere in his words; moreover, he was proving to be a true Hufflepuff. He had the hallmarks of character that Helga had valued most: loyalty to his own and his house, working hard without shortcuts, and a sense of justice for which he would renounce an opportunity to take advantage. Salazar waited, ready to listen to him.
"The egg is better heard if you open it underwater. Use the Prefects' Bathroom on the fourth floor; do you know it?"
"The only prefect I've had any dealings with so far is Percy Weasley."
"Then you don't know it." Cedric smiled. "I had a feeling." He handed him a fragment of parchment. "It tells you how to get there and the password."
"Thank you, Diggory."
"I think we could start addressing each other by our first names. Don't you think so, Harry?" Salazar saw him stretch out his hand.
"It will be a pleasure, Cedric," he replied, shaking his hand.
Salazar, of course, already knew it was a magical language, and he and the other founders had even thought of ways to test different languages, especially considering the types of intelligent creatures with non-human speech that were at Hogwarts. None of them believed that they would be given permission to import more creatures. The egg was the clue of what had to be done and where; all that was left was to translate the clue itself. Water was something they had considered, and that Cedric had just confirmed. He would do it that same night.
After dinner, Salazar had returned with the rest of the Gryffindor students to the common room. He had already told Godric what he was up to, simply so as not to worry his friend if he should discover his absence. Salazar had to wait for the rest to fall asleep to take the egg, the Map, and the Invisibility Cloak before going down to the Prefects' Bathroom. He knew that those special lavatories had a large bathtub that could be classified as a swimming pool. They had based themselves a bit on the idea of the ancient Roman baths to build it. Salazar wanted to see how the bathroom had evolved in terms of plumbing. In the past, it was the house-elves who had to fill and empty the bathtub.
"Pine fresh."
He went into the bathroom and looked at it carefully after putting the cloak and the map aside, on one of the benches. He left the egg on one of the sinks. The bath was as spacious as it was when it had been built, only it had the modern amenities of the current century. The large bathtub was surrounded by taps and had a diving board. Each tap seemed to belong to a different component: hot water, cold water, and soap. That was the mix of components he could combine. Out of the corner of his eye, he detected the presence of someone, one of the ghosts of the castle.
"Hello, Myrtle. What brings you up here?"
"I sometimes come up, although I have never spoken to any prefect before. You haven't come to see me."
"I know, a serious oversight on my part. I apologise."
"Apologies accepted. Have you come to put the egg in the water? That's what the other boy did."
"Exactly, Myrtle," Salazar replied, taking off his shoes and his robes. Underneath it all, he was wearing his bathing trunks.
Salazar turned on all the taps to finish early, all except the ones containing soap, and waited for it to fill up completely. He then threw the egg into it and went into the water, diving after the egg. At the bottom of the pool, he opened it and listened. It was clear that the language was Mermish and that it could only be heard underwater; on the surface, it did not sound articulate.
On land our voices are not heard anywhere.If you want what you value most,You have an hour to find.
Once he heard that, he got out of the water and memorised its contents. He took out the egg and put it down next to his things, then dried himself while the bathtub was emptied. He had things clear. It was the Black Lake, and he had to retrieve something that had been taken from him. That, or else, what he valued most would be the clue for the third task.
"The Merpeople," he whispered.
"You're fast. It took the other boy longer to figure it out."
"A stroke of luck, I suppose. I have to go, it's too late now. I'll come and see you, Myrtle, I promise."
Salazar covered himself with the cloak and placed the golden egg safely before heading out into the corridor. It was deserted, but he wasn't going to trust it. He checked the Map to confirm that no one was around. No one on his way back to Gryffindor Tower; however, something caught his attention. A dot on the map moving through Snape's office that wasn't Snape, but Barty Crouch. Salazar frowned; it was strange to him that Crouch couldn't attend the Christmas event or the Ministry because he was ill. It didn't make much sense. He made a decision in a few seconds. He decided to go down to the dungeons to see what was happening. He chose to go by a fast route, one of the hidden passageways that had been designed to shorten the way inside the school. From time to time he consulted the Map to make sure Crouch did not move from one location to another. This seemed strange to him, and he wanted to take a look at it as soon as possible. When he arrived at the dungeons, he remained alert. He walked carefully to Snape's office and glanced through the half-open door. What he saw threw him off. The Map indicated that the one inside the office was Barty Crouch, however he was seeing Alastor Moody, but there was no sign of Alastor Moody in that office, but he was very motionless, in a corner of the defence professor's office. It was all very strange. For all Salazar knew about Moody, he couldn't imagine him lending his appearance to anyone. He focused his gaze on the office, on what he was doing inside. He was picking ingredients from Snape's cupboards, and from the ingredients on the table there was only one potion that came to mind that could explain what was going on. He had to bring this to the attention of others. He left the place seeking to take the most direct route to return to the common room.
A few days after the adventure in the Prefects' Bathroom, Salazar and the rest were again gathered in the Shrieking Shack. He had prioritised telling them the enigma of the egg since the other still had nothing firm and he preferred to focus on what seemed more immediate. The second task. Once that was clear, he could deal with the mystery of the impostor, which in a way was the most serious issue of all and to which they had to dedicate more time, in his opinion, so they had to finish one as soon as possible and then focus on the other.
"To recap, dive into the lake to rescue an important object from the hands of the Merpeople," Salazar commented.
"An hour underwater. It's not impossible," Helga commented. "I could turn you into a tentacle, a nice tentacle, of course," she joked.
"I was thinking of using the Bubble-Head Charm," Salazar said. "It's an enchantment that you learn in fifth year. It wouldn't be unusual to learn it now, especially after 'learning' the Patronus in third year."
"It's a good option, it will give you unlimited time, but it doesn't seem to convince you," Helga observed.
"It's a simple and very common incantation," Rowena said. "I guess most will use it as their first choice."
"Yes, well, it's not that being a fourth-year student I have more potions; because a partial human transformation is too advanced and complicated a matter."
"Well, use Gillyweed. It's simple, straightforward, and it will give you just one hour," Godric proposed. "I could give you the contact of some suppliers; it's not a very cheap herb but it's not expensive either."
"It could work," Salazar acknowledged. "I eat it and I have an hour. I go into the lake, take what has been taken from me and come back. It sounds easy, too easy."
"Yes, too easy. What if the object is not an object?" Rowena said. "What I value most is all of you. More than any object. Besides," she continued, "most objects can be replaced, people cannot."
"They wouldn't dare," Helga whispered in horror.
Rowena's insinuation made Salazar a little uneasy. Especially because he found that endangering third parties in the middle of the competition was barbaric. The competition in itself was also barbaric.
"What was that other thing you had to tell us?" Godric asked.
"You have found out that Moody is not Moody. The same night I went to listen to the egg, I saw Mr. Crouch inside Snape's office; he was alone. That seemed odd to me, so I went downstairs to investigate. The Map marked Barty Crouch, but in the office it was Moody. You all know the properties of the Map."
"That Map is not wrong; it can identify anyone within the castle grounds," said Rowena, who had studied the Map thoroughly the previous year.
"The most curious thing is that there was indeed an Alastor Moody, very quiet in a corner of his office."
"Alastor wouldn't allow himself to be impersonated, and if he wanted to search someone's office, he wouldn't do it secretly," Helga said.
"More or less in line with what I thought," Salazar said.
"An impostor, isn't he?" Godric summed up. "We'll have to kick him out of the castle then. There's too much weird stuff around him."
"You have to take off his mask and find out why he's dressing up as Moody," Rowena said.
"I think that impostor is the key to what's going on," Helga said. "I'd like nothing more than to break into that office and take him on."
"But there's something bigger behind all this. We have to investigate," Salazar resolved. "One or two inside the office with him present and the other looking at the Map. Those who enter must capture every detail of the office."
"Well, let's get down to business," Godric said.
"No," Salazar objected. "It will be after the second task. I've got an idea."
"You'll be the one to go in, won't you?" Helga deduced.
"Exactly. It would be logical for a frightened boy to ask for help from an expert in dangerous situations after going through two."
The day of the second task arrived. Salazar, knowing that he was going to have to dive into the lake, had prepared a strategy beforehand. Since he knew that the task would be in the lake and that the Merpeople were involved, he had thought of several options to face the task. In the end, he had chosen to follow Godric's suggestion and employ the Gillyweed. That would not only give him the oxygen supply that the water had but also greater freedom of movement, which means that he could move faster and better. What worried Salazar was that Rowena's suggestion would end up being real and that what had to be sought would turn out to be a person. Salazar had initially rejected the idea, but when he saw that neither Godric nor Hermione had returned from their urgent meeting the day before with Professor McGonagall, he began to worry and take it as a fact, which made him furious.
Salazar was already in the boat, along with the rest of the champions, waiting for the race to start. He had put on a wetsuit and was carrying in his hand the Gillyweed he had bought the week before. The boat was still completely sealed. He noticed near them a beetle whose presence was familiar to him; he smiled to himself. If it was what he suspected, he was cunning, very cunning.
"Cedric," Salazar greeted the rightful champion of Hogwarts. "Krum, Delacour. Everything's alright?"
"That you don't have a strategy?" Krum asked mockingly.
Salazar, indifferent, showed them the jar of Gillyweed; it wasn't like they could copy his idea at this point.
"That didn't occur to me," Cedric said when he saw the weed. "I didn't know you'd be good at herbology."
"Not me; my friend Neville. By the way, have you seen him? I haven't heard from him since last night, when Professor McGonagall took him away with Hermione. I haven't seen Hermione either, already on."
"Longbottom?" "No, I haven't seen him," Cedric said with a frown. "And you say they were taken last night."
Salazar noticed Cedric's mind wandering, and both Krum and Delacour listening to their conversation. Krum seemed calm, while Delacour was tense and looked apprehensively and worriedly at the lake.
"Last night, when I was with Cho, Flitwick came for her, and she didn't come to breakfast with me today, in fact she didn't show up in the Great Hall," said the Hufflepuff. "It's a strange coincidence. I don't like it."
"You have reason not to like it," Salazar said in a bitter tone. "What you have told me confirms my suspicion. They are what they have taken from us and we have to rescue," Salazar said resolutely and frowning. What the hell were they thinking?
"What?!" Cedric exclaimed, putting his hands to his head. "It can't be; it's crazy."
"That's what I thought at the time, so I discarded the idea. At least until this moment."
"My little sister," said the French girl. "Today I came to see her compete. She is not there. She is only seven years old. She's scared. He doesn't know anything, the water of fear."
"Dogs, don't you miss objects?" Krum asked. "Dogs are not objects."
It was clear that the truth had just been revealed. That tournament involved more human lives than those of its participants, something that despite the fact that two of its participants had privileged information, they did not know. None of them seemed to like this revelation, but the four of them were aware that they could do nothing. If they had known a few days before, the four of them together could have challenged the evidence or certain characteristics of it. Now they just had to play along.
The task began; the judges explained that the champions had to rescue something that had been taken from them and that they had one hour to do so. Salazar was furious at that explanation, calling four human beings "something" was impudence. A real folly. He had to restrain himself from jumping in at that moment, but he was clear that he was not going to let things end with that. He would find a way for them to learn not to treat people as if they were objects or as soon as that Animagus he had detected in his area could be useful, it was the same one he had detected in the World Cup and also the aura of power he emitted resembled that of that journalist to whom he had promised some real meat. He hoped that his instinct would not fail him in this.
Salazar stuffed the Gillyweed into his mouth and swallowed them. He had to wait a few moments before getting into the water, long enough for the gills to take effect. As soon as he was completely submerged he began to swim, guided by his hearing and by what he knew of the Merpeople. He knew that they used to settle in the depths of lakes and ponds; the deeper it is, the greater the protection from the outside. With those things in mind, Salazar soon arrived at the sunken city. In the centre of it, exposed and tied to a large rock, the four champions. Salazar did not give him a very good thorn. He imagined that this type of space was the one they used for executions. He definitely didn't like that. He looked at them for a few moments, they seemed to be alone, but he had no doubt that the warriors with whom these beings counted would be on guard. Should we fight against them? He hoped not; that would break the truce they had established with that people millennia ago. It may even be broken already. He advanced cautiously. As he reached them, he noticed the movement of the water behind him. The head of the clan was after him. He held her gaze.
"You can only take one."
"And let the others die?" Only bubbles came out of his mouth, but he knew the clan chief understood. Salazar was not one to sacrifice himself for others, but they were students of the castle and in a way, he felt they were in his charge. He would not leave Godric behind either, and it would certainly be a disgrace to Hogwarts if something happened to the French girl, who was a guest in that castle who had not been treated as such, because of his omission.
"You can only take one."
"Could you come back for the others?"
"You don't have time for that. If you don't take yours, you'll both stay there."
Salazar did not like that. The head of the clan did not seem to be aggressive, nor problematic; rather, it seemed to express the facts. Was it what it seemed? Had the headmaster really offered tributes to the hostages if they were not rescued?
"I don't think so. Not unless you don't have any agreement with the school. All of them are inhabitants of it, including the provisional visitor."
"You have a decision to make. Either you save your friend or you save the ones you think you should protect." Salazar looked at her with a raised eyebrow, impassive, but her words had not escaped him. "We are a very long-lived people. My grandmother told me about the treaty she made with four wise men who promised to protect the lands surrounding this place and return when necessary."
Salazar nodded, going over to Godric and using his wand to undo the bonds of the ropes that had bound him. As he finished, he saw Cedric arrive using the Bubble-Head Charm and free Cho using a utility knife. One of those utensils that were so useful. He gestured to Hufflepuff's student, motioning for him to hurry up, that time was short.
"I'll stay," he said to the clan chief. "At least until the time they gave us has elapsed. Then I will act. I hope you understand me."
Salazar knew that they had reached a point of agreement. Salazar would not act for the duration of the task, but then he would. With a minute left in the hour, he saw a half-shark approaching. It was evident that Krum had used a form of partial human transfiguration. That was complicated and dangerous, both for him and for the person he had to rescue. He worried about Hermione, to the point of considering taking the champion of Durmstrang away from her, but he couldn't do it. He could not interfere with the task; only when the time of the task was up could he do so. Krum did not linger to cut the ligatures but cut the main rope and, holding on tightly to it, began to swim to the surface.
"It's about time," Salazar said to the clan chief. Receiving a confirmation from it.
"We will accompany you to the surface."
They swam to the surface. Salazar carried both Godric and the French girl. The clan chief and her warriors were companions, protecting them from the Grindylows. As soon as they burst onto the surface of the lake, they began to hear the roar of the public. Salazar realised that both Godric and the girl had come out of the trance in which they were immersed. His friend was furious, which confirmed that ending up in the lake had been something against his will. The girl was scared.
"Neville, help me with the girl. She seems to be having a panic attack," he said to his friend in a calm voice.
As soon as they reached the dock they were surrounded by towels, the school nurse, Madame Longbottom, who was hugging and examining her grandson; She was very upset and angry. On the other side with them was also the champion of Beauxbatons, thanking them for having taken her sister out of the lake. Salazar looked away and noticed the clan chief, speaking in Mermish to Dumbledore. There was no way of knowing what they were talking about unless she dived into the lake, as Rowena had done in the past.
"...I didn't volunteer for that, Grandma. As soon as McGonagall took us to the teachers' room, Dumbledore began his speech that we would be part of the second task and that we would be safe at all times, and although we tried to refuse, he said that nothing was wrong. He didn't listen to us; he just bewitched us."
"Don't worry, Neville. This affront to the Longbottom house will come to nothing."
Salazar exchanged a glance with his friend as his grandmother went to confront Dumbledore for the acts he had committed against her house, acts that actually applied to everyone involved. All the students had been put at risk without the permission of their guardians. Mrs. Longbottom's yelling at Dumbledore caused the distribution of points to be delayed. That didn't matter as much to Salazar as it did to enjoy internally seeing Dumbledore trying to apologise to the fearsome woman. Godric's grandmother, a little scary, was glad she wasn't on his bad side.
The next morning, as soon as the Daily Prophet unfolded, everyone in the Great Hall found an article referring to the second task. An article written and written by Rita Skeeter. Salazar smiled slightly as she read the headline before starting to read its contents. The article did not leave Dumbledore or the Ministry in a good light; it also had its own for the rest of the judges, but they had asked for it for having used minors in a task and put them in a situation of unnecessary danger no matter how many "security measures" they had.
WHAT ARE THE TOURNAMENT ORGANISERS PLAYING?
My dear readers, just yesterday I witnessed the proceeding of the second task of the Triwizard Tournament and I must admit that it left me with a certain bad taste in my mouth to see how our young wizards, the generation that will take our baton, were unceremoniously endangered in order to test the champions of the tournament. The official description of the task was to rescue from the interior of the lake something valuable that had been stolen from the champions. I witnessed the initial conversation that the champions had among themselves and they thought that it was an object, as it was the most logical thing to do in a competition that was already dangerous; they only began to imagine the truth when they realised that their friends and relatives had been missing since the night before. The words of Albus Dumbledore, the same morning of the tournament when talking about hostages were completely enlightening.
The young people who were taken hostage, all minors, were: Miss Cho Chang, 16, Miss Hermione Granger, 15, Neville Longbottom, 15, and Miss Gabrielle Delacour, 8. Yes gentlemen, you dared to expose to a risky situation not only three students that Hogwarts should protect and prevent them from being involved in unnecessary situations, but also a poor girl who has not even begun her training and who was at Hogwarts to see her sister compete; a girl who is also afraid of water. That was the first of the mistakes that was made. Using minors for a task that could have ended in catastrophe if not for the high level of proficiency in magic of the champions. Moreover, we can attribute to them a second mistake that perhaps should have been the first to be pointed out: using people as if they were objects, which they are not. To all this we have to attribute the third of the errors. No one gave their consent to be used as bait, neither the young people involved nor the families of these young people. Which in itself is a crime of abuse by magic towards a minor as well as an offence against the family of each of these young people, especially if, as is the case of young Longbottom, it is one of the oldest and most important families in our society. Not to mention the serious international incident that could have been caused if something happened to the young sister of the French champion.
From what I have been able to find out, Madame Longbottom is completely indignant with Dumbledore, who bewitched the young Longbottom treacherously, and presumably did the same with the rest of the baits. But we must not only blame Dumbledore's poor judgment on this, but that of all the organisers of the tournament and that of our own Ministry for seeing with good eyes that future generations are used in such a brutal way for the entertainment of the masses. Both the Ministry and the tournament judges have refused to comment on the matter.