A Thousand Splendid Suns

But Every Arrow's Got To Land

Harry is standing in the courtyard, waiting for Salazar. They're to go shopping today for Harry's new robes, amongst school supplies and everything else a boy could need for Hogwarts. Godric approaches him while he is waiting.

Salazar, who was on his way, notices this, and decides to let their conversation pay out. He hides behind a wall and listens closely.

"Hello, my dear," says Godric, his robes sweeping behind him. His grin is blinding, so is the pure-white of his teeth. Salazar feels white hot rage swell up inside him, and is unsure of its origins.

Harry gives a small smile. "Godric," he greets.

Godric sounds pleased as a plum to have even an ounce of Harry's attention. "What brings you here?"

"I"m waiting for Salazar," he says. Salazar grins to himself, then wipes it off himself, although there is no one to see. "We're going shopping."

"Ah, I see! So he has already beaten me to the punch." Godric shakes his head sadly. "Alas, I was too slow. I knew that, against his protests, he was a truly interested man--"

Harry is staring blankly at the man. Salazar muses that Harry, for all his Gryffindor confidence, is an oblivious boy. "What are you talking about?"

Godric blinks. "The date you're about to set foot on, of course!"

Harry actually seems angry about it. "This is not a date," he hisses. Salazar likes this answer, for some reason.

Godirc holds up his hands defensively. "If you say so, my dear, then it is not a date! Amen! Amen!"

"Stop saying amen," says Harry, but it is a bit endeared.

"If you want me to, I will do anything."

"You're loud. I'm too used to the quiet Snakes."

Godric's expression turns sympathetic. "How has it been, in the Snake's House? I imagine it could be difficult, given your situation."

Harry straightens his robes, smoothing over the wrinkles. He does not look at Godric. "It's been fine. Nothing worse than what I've handled before."

Godric slithers closer. "Harry, dear... just because you've handled worse doesn't mean it is easy to handle this." He tries to wrap an arm around Harry's shoulder, and Harry steps away before he can.

And how different they are, Godric and Salazar. Salazar wants to eat this boy's secrets alive; Godric is able to dismiss them in favour of comforting Harry. If Harry likes Godric more, Salazar thinks, then whose fault will it be, other than my own?

And then he wonders why it matters to him. He decides that he doesn't care who Harry likes -- as long as he likes Salazar enough to tell him his secrets.

"You'd disagree if you knew what I've been through before," Harry says, sternly.

"Then tell me, mon amour, what you've handled before."

Harry sticks out his chin. A challenger. "No," he says.

Godric sighs, but his eyes are still fond. "Whyever not?"

"It is my burden to bear. Not anyone else's. And, besides, you wouldn't believe me anyway."

"I would," promises Godric, and it echos Salazar's own thought process. Somehow this boy seems incapable of lying. "I would."

Harry narrows his eyes at him. "Why should I believe you?' he demands.

"Because," coos Godric, "you have swept in, and stolen my heart!" How forward, and awfully Hufflepuff.

"That's nonsense." Harry remains thoroughly unimpressed.

Godric is undeterred. "Is it? Because, dear, if Salazar Slytheirn is not taking you on a date, I would love to."

"Love's a strong word," Harry mutters. Then he sighs.

"Are you opposed?" asks Godric.

"Am I? A good question," he says. Salazar's heart seizes in his chest. "But it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," says Godric, appalled by the suggestion.

"No. It doesn't. Do you know what happened to the last man who loved me? His name was Ron Wealsey."

"Of the Pureblood Weasley line? I'm not sure I've ever heard of him." Salazar isn't sure, either.

"There's reasons for that."

"Which are?"

"Irrelevant." Harry's hands are clutched into fists at his side, like remembering this event has made him angry all over again... and perhaps for good reason. "He loved me like I was family. I was family. And then he showed up, and prevented him from ever being born."

Salazar soaks this knowledge up like the sun, like he is a flower getting watered, no longer a wilting thing.

"...Are you exaggerating?" asks Godric. Salazar understands his perspective -- it sounds made up, what Harry is saying now. To Prevent Someone From Being Born. Why, that's nonsensical. Salazar, however, believes Harry, and will be looking into how such an evil is possible... if only for his own gain, nothing more.

"Do I sound like I am exaggerating?" Harry says, fiercely.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you."

"I am no liar," says Harry.

"Okay," says Gellert, softly. "Okay, you're not a liar... Harry, I have a question."

Harry looks so, so tired. "Okay," he says, weakly. "Ask away."

"Who is he? The one who killed your friend?"

Salazar had the same musing at first, but he has his suspicions, and they are about to be proven correct. "A man named," says Harry, ever quiet, Salazar almost not able to hear them from his spot, "Gellert Grindelwald. My eternal chaser. He's going to find me here, too. And he will kill any man, woman, or child that dares to love me." He barks out a mirthless laugh. "So watch yourself! Watch your back! He's coming! He's coming! And he's coming soon!"

Salazar listens to his raging laughter and decides that, yes, it's about time to end that conversation. He has much to think about, but right now, he has to take Harry shopping. He emerges from his corner and slips on a blank expression. "Harry," he says, and Harry stops his mad laughter. He nods to Godric, who scowls at him.

"It is go time?" asks Harry, his back turned to Godri, as if embarrassed by his outburst.

"It is," says Salazar. "Tell me, are you ready?"

Harry smiles. "Ready as I'll ever be."