The Founders Four

Bad News

England was a rather cruel place when it came to young ladies who had ideas in their heads they very much wished to express. Most of the country was sexist in this respect but knowing that a select few knowledgeable beings would believe in her gave Rowena Ravenclaw hope. Since she'd known what she truly was and accepted this fact, allowing her abilities to grow beyond anything she'd expected, she had found herself happy. This was something she would never have expected to feel again just a few short years ago. In all honesty, she still felt the pangs of doubt creeping around her most days but the little hope she had, without really being able to identify it, meant the world to her.

For five longs years she'd practiced all the magic she'd been instructed to. In fact, being a little more risky than was safe to do so, she'd even gone as far as to practice new spells. Salazar's uncle Arthur had kept her in a good supply of books. She particularly loved a book he'd sent her that debated just how magic was created, what exactly caused new spells and the formulas of the simplest ones. This book was the work of a genius in Rowena's eyes. She'd obviously grasped the basics but hadn't let the ideas blossom.

She was quick to learn and, taking a chance, she'd formulated her own creations. Most she'd tried hadn't been effective but a fair few excelled beyond her expectations. Of course, these were all the work of much mathematical equations and practical assessments on Rowena's behalf; it all paid off, though. It gave her a great sense of accomplishment to do this because she felt she'd earned her right to be a witch, no matter how big a secret it was.

Naturally, all she learnt was of great risk to herself. There had been a few near misses when her father had almost caught her performing magic but, luckily, no one had ever suspected a thing. She knew this was pure luck and Arthur kept reminding her she had to proceed with caution but she couldn't help it. Being stuck in a tower for most of her days with nothing to do but read books and learn all the things that were expected of a woman left her with no alternative. She had to imagine, create and invent all she could. It was the only freedom she truly had.

But, of course, the fear of the future she was truly destined for was always present. It seemed to loom upon the horizon with every day that dawned, seeming to creep closer and closer all the time. Most days she tried to ignore the fact that she had a future husband ready to carry her off but it was becoming impossible. For the past few months her mother had become unbearable. She'd begun insisting that they plan for her "beautiful" wedding. Rowena tried to put it off but it became inevitable and she soon had hardly any time at all for her magic. She tried to stall whenever a decision was to be made but her mother just ended up making it for her. All the while Rowena just hoped and preyed that prince Edmund had met someone else to thrust his false affection upon.

"Rowena!"

She cringed as her mother's shrill voice echoed up the tower staircase. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she slowly got up from her seat by the window and exited her room, meeting her mother in the hallway below just moments later, who was looking positively elated. Rowena thought this rather unusual because she usually looked up-tight.

"What is it, mother?" She asked monotonously.

"Oh, my daughter!" She cried, placing cold and wrinkled hands upon her pale cheeks. "Your father has some wonderful news. Come!" She insisted, leading the way along the stone corridor.

Rowena frowned, wondering what on Earth could have happened to make them both so pleased. She reluctantly followed her mother, her heart starting to race with anxiety.

"My Daughter!" Her father boomed, as she entered the throne room. "My dear Daughter!"

"I hear you have some news?" She asked, forcing a smile but feeling her insides churn.

He smiled widely, gave a little wink and, with a chilling of the veins, she knew what he was about to say.

"We've all been waiting for this day for a long time," he beamed. "He is to return, my sweet!" He laughed, as though he couldn't stop himself. "You shall be wed before the year is out!"

"What?" She demanded, unable to hide her disappointment. Luckily, they mistook it for shock.

"Oh, my poor girl, I know it's been a long wait but it's finally going to happen!" Her mother assured her. "You're going to fulfil your dream and become a wife, the queen of France!"

"That's not my dream!" She cried, before she could stop herself.

For so long she'd just been obedient, not causing any trouble so that they wouldn't suspect her rebellion, her magic. Her father threw her a piercing gaze, one that would make most men cower. Rowena would have stared determinedly back but she knew it would provoke him and avoided his eyes instead.

"What I mean to say is..." She said quickly, hastily thinking of an excuse. "I someday wish to be a mother."

"Oh, children!" Her mother crooned. "How perfect."

Rowena felt sick to the stomach at the thought of conceiving children with that horrid Edmund.

"He shall be back at the end of summer," her father informed her. "You shall be married by the autumn."

"So soon?" She said, trying to think of a way she could buy herself some time.

"You should be pleased!" Her father growled, a tone of warning in his voice.

"I am," she said quickly, trying to look just as pleased as they were about the news.

"We may even be able to push the wedding forwards if Edmund's parents can make it over here in time," her mother said excitedly.

"Even if they can't, I don't see why Edmund can't make some changes to his plans, we've been waiting for five bloody years for him!" The king shouted, turning momentarily red in the face.

"Well, he might prefer his parents to be at the wedding," Rowena muttered, feeling her heart sink at the prospect of getting married.

"Now," her mother smiled, ignoring what she'd just said and steering her from the room. "We'll need to start making plans straight away. I can call the maids to us and send someone to fetch Anna - she'll make your gown!"

"Can we possibly do this another time, mother?" She asked warily. "I've come across a little dizzy all of a sudden. I think I need to go and lie down."

"Rowena!" She hissed angrily, glancing up and down the corridor to check that no one could overhear. "You have not made a single decision about this wedding on your own. It's as if you don't want to get married!"

"Maybe I don't!" She hissed back.

"You ungrateful little wench!" She snarled, slapping her forcefully across the face. Feeling rather useless, Rowena did not retaliate, knowing that it wouldn't get her anywhere. "We went out of our way to get you that prince!"

"I never asked for him," she breathed.

"Well, you're going to get him. Do this for your father," she demanded. She stared at Rowena for a moment, as though trying to work out what she was thinking. "You will be a queen some day soon, girl. What more do you want?"

"Someone who loves me?"

Her mother stared, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Still enchanted by that filthy stable boy?" She spat, looking disgusted. "He fooled you when he was taken in by Hufflepuff, didn't he? Trying to fit in with the family, playing it like a Lord! Well, you need to get used to the fact that he's dead!" She hissed venomously, leaning so close to her face that Rowena could feel her breath. "He's not coming for you. He's not going to sweep you off on a white stallion, no one but Edmund is going to do that!"

Rowena stared back angrily and flinched as her mother spun around and marched off down the corridor.

What was she going to do? Her days were numbered. She had considered escaping so many times that, as soon as the thought crossed her mind these days, she just immediately dismissed it as a child's fantasy. She'd been through it hundreds of times in her head. If she somehow managed to escape her room during the night, there were the hoards of guards that patrolled the corridors. Then, if she managed to get past them, she'd have to get down to the entrance hall, where there stood two guards that watched the doors at all hours of the day and night.

She had considered the entrance near the kitchens, which was where the servants entered and exited, but that was no use either. At night Rowena knew it was locked up and to get the key would be of great risk. She had even been so bold as to consider escaping through the windows. She knew this would be dangerous as well as stupid, though. It would only take one glance upwards from someone below to give her away.

She'd even thought about magic. She knew it could probably have helped her but, the more she considered it, the more foolish the idea seemed. Not only would she use magic she hadn't really practiced very much but she'd also risk giving her self away as a witch, something she was not prepared to do, no matter how much she wished to escape.

Even after all this consideration, all this planning and plotting, it wouldn't be worth it. If she did, by some miracle, actually manage to escape the castle walls, she'd have to make it through the city unseen. If she made it out of her father's lands, which seemed most unlikely, how long would it really be before his guards caught up with her and dragged her right back again? She knew it wouldn't be worth it. If anything, it'd just make things more difficult for her.

Slowly, she made her way to her room, maintaining a brave face until she closed her door behind her. Then she ended up breaking down into tears, sliding to the cold stone floor as she wept.

Deep down she'd always known Godric wasn't coming back. Deep down she knew he was dead. She just hadn't wanted to admit it. Now that her mother had told her this daunting fact she felt sick to the stomach. The only soul she'd ever loved was gone.

The reality of it all came crashing down upon her with such force that she felt she may be sick. Her life might as well have just been over. What quality of life would it be if she was stuck with prince Edmund until the day she died? Money and titles meant nothing without happiness, nothing ever did. She knew that there was no way out now. Feeling her heart breaking like it had done so many times before, she realised what she'd have to do now - something that would cause her pain for the rest of her life.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she picked up all the books Arthur had ever sent to her. Once she'd collected them she hid them behind a portrait, where a brick was loose in the wall. She piled them into the gap and slid the paining back across, tears dripping from her pale face.

She glanced out across London and her eyes caught the skyline, where she could just about make out the outlines of fields and countryside. For years she'd looked out to that point, hoping for something better. She knew dreaming and wishing would get her nowhere now. Nothing better was going to come.

With a tear-streaked face and puffy eyes, she sat herself down at the little writing desk that lay in the corner. She picked up her quill with a shaking hand and, finding a spare sheet of parchment, she slowly began to write, her heart aching with every word she scratched onto the paper.