The Founders Four

The Proposal

Salazar Slytherin had one advantage that his other three friends did not when it came to finding potential students for Hogwarts. He was, of course, still on speaking terms with Benedick Greyson. For the past two years he'd used this old friend and mentor to locate magic users that were fitting for the school. Benedick had even assisted in convincing some of the less willing families that it was all a good idea. Salazar greatly appreciated his help and knew he owed a lot to him.

He was, once again, on his way to see Benedick at his grand home on the outskirts of London. He'd requested that Salazar come alone, as always. He usually insisted that Belle remain behind at whichever inn they were staying at, feeling that this sort of business was nothing a woman should be involved with. Salazar felt guilty every time he told Belle she had to stay behind but knew it was the best way. She didn't argue, knowing it would be beneficial in the long run.

Salazar strode down the tree-lined dirt track that led up to the front of Benedick's house, his cloak fluttering serenely in the cool summer breeze. He'd certainly done well for himself. The construction of his home was nothing compared to the king's castle but it would make most men jealous. It seemed that more elaborate features had been added since the last time they'd met. Two stone dragons now flanked the doorway and Salazar assumed that there would be more telltale signs of his new wealth within.

He knocked upon the heavy oak door and, within moments, a squat little man with watery eyes and a few pitiful strands of grey hair that had been carefully teased across his bald head answered the door. He nodded in recognition of Salazar and gave a lop-sided grin.

"Come in, Sir, come in," he urged, stepping back and allowing him to cross the threshold. "My master has been expecting you."

"Thank you, Gerald."

"Is that Salazar? Has he arrived?" A loud, stern voice demanded from one of the many rooms that led off from this grand entrance hall.

"Yes, Sir."

"Well, bring him to me!"

Gerald led Salazar through to one of the grand drawing rooms, which was laced with luxurious cabinets full of many jewels and trinkets. He'd certainly built up a good collection. Benedick had gotten a little larger than Salazar remembered him. He'd clearly been gluttonous during the past few months. Upon a little table next to him were a collection of glass bottles full of some interesting-looking liquids.

"Ah, there you are. I thought you'd decided to miss our little meeting," he chuckled gently, indicating for him to take a seat upon the sofa opposite him. "Can I tempt you?" He asked, tapping a finger upon the closest bottle to him. "This is the finest wine in London, I'm told. The king himself recommended that I try it."


"Thank you," Salazar nodded, not wanting to seem rude. "I'd just like to say how very grateful I am for all your help, Benedick," he said, taking the goblet of wine he'd just poured. "If you hadn't found out about all those students and convinced their families then I - "

"Now, now, my boy!" He interrupted, holding up a hand to silence him. "You have bombarded me with your gratitude quite enough already. It was nothing."

Salazar was unsure what to say so he took a long sip of the blood red wine he'd been given.

"I trust the duties up at this school of yours have been divided equally?" Benedick asked, after a short silence.

"Yes, they have," he replied simply. "We're each out looking for students. I'm not the only one searching for them. I'm not a servant to them," he finished, speaking a little more sharply than he'd intended.

"Oh, no, I wasn't implying such a thing," he smiled, surveying Salazar over the rim of his own goblet. "But I was referring to the magic you'll teach. It will be basic, I presume?"

"We know enough!"

"Oh, I know that you're all very bright," he insisted, setting down his wine and clasping his hands together. "But there are certain types of magic I fear will be neglected, should no one choose to teach them within this school of yours. Of course, Godric would probably not approve of a suggestion such as - "

"He is not in charge of us!" Salazar snapped, feeling her temper rise.

"Certainly not. The boy has a good, loud mouth but to lead...no, no, I always thought you were more fitting as a leader."

Salazar felt some pride in this compliment and then his anger decreased by the slightest degree.

"If you were to suggest a certain type of magic be taught amongst your students..." He said casually. "I am well-versed. I could teach it to you."

"And what type of magic would this be?" Salazar asked, unable to hide his intrigue.

"The kind most fear, Salazar," he said quietly. The way he spoke now sent an uncomfortable chill rippling along Salazar's spine. "But, of course, only those that possess true power embrace it and succeed in using it."

"But what is it?" He persisted, abandoning his wine and leaning further forwards in his seat now.

"Every young witch and wizard has the right to use this magic, Salazar. The Darks Arts are merely misunderstood by the weak minded."

"The Dark Arts?" He barked, certain he'd misheard. "But that's dark magic, the worst kind."

"No, Salazar," he said calmly. "This is just my point. People do not understand - "

"I understand perfectly well!" He growled, rising to his feet and staring down at Benedick in disbelief. "The worst of our kind use it to torment and manipulate the mortals. They even use it against their fellow wizards. I've heard all about the Dark Arts! I want nothing to do with that kind of magic!"

"Oh, Salazar, don't be so naïve!" He chuckled in amusement, almost rising to his feet.

"I'm no fool, Benedick!"

"I rather think that you are, boy!" He barked, speaking more sharply now. His anger was bubbling up to the surface. "How else do you think I convinced all those idiots to allow their children to attend your school?"

Salazar just stared at him, flabbergasted. It took him a moment or two to regain his composure.

"You tricked them all? You toyed with their minds?" He choked.

"You make it sound so sordid..."

"I can't believe you'd...how - ?" He stammered, staring at him in disbelief.

"I've done far worse. Most of it was done just to protect you." Salazar shook his head, not wanting to believe it. "You really have no idea how many people have discovered you over the years, Salazar. Obviously, your generation struggles when it comes to concealment. It's a good job you've always had me here to watch your back and stop such idle gossip getting any further."

"What do you mean?" He muttered, feeling his stomach churn unexplainably.

"Well, I had to get rid of them, did I not? Would you rather the king find out just what a despicable sorcerer was working for him?" He chuckled as he said this and Salazar despised that casual, unconcerned smile he wore.

"You mean murder...?" He asked slowly, suddenly realising what this meant. "You killed them?"

"Of course I did!" He snapped, feverishly pouring himself another drink. The odd sound of the wine spilling out into the goblet filled the uncomfortable silence that had fallen. "I was doing it for you, Salazar. Your parents wanted me to protect you - I promised them I'd do so."

"No, don't you dare! Don't say you murdered people for my benefit. It didn't have to come to such horrid means, Benedick!" He growled. "My mother and father would never have wanted that!" He croaked, feeling his throat constrict at the mere mention of his parents.

"Forgive me, Salazar, but I knew them many years before you and have known them far longer. I know more about them than you can ever dream of knowing. I hate to cause you any distress but they were not the angelic creatures you picture them to be."

"How dare you speak about them like that!"

"They used dark magic too," he told him, chuckling gently at Salazar's reaction. "Together we pioneered some of the more renowned spells. They were quite remarkable, it has to be said."

"You're lying!" Salazar roared, knowing he was on the brink of cursing Benedick into oblivion.

He couldn't quite believe he was speaking about his parents in this way. Salazar considered the fact that he'd perhaps had a little too much to drink but, as bitter as it made him feel, he knew Benedick's were the words of a sober man.

"Oh, it is such a pity," he murmured, sighing deeply and setting down his goblet again. "Such a pity to see all this potential ruined. You have become narrow-minded like these so-called friends of yours. I expected better from you and so did your parents."

"Stop!" He snarled, backing away and heading for the door. "Don't you dare speak about them like that. I want nothing more to do with you. You've been brainwashed, Benedick. I thought you were a good man. Never contact me again! I no longer need your help!"

With that he stormed out of the room, angrily blasting one of the ornate little tables into pieces.

"As you wish, Salazar!" Benedick called calmly. "But the moment you change your mind, you know where I am. You will change your mind, Salazar!"

Salazar just ran, wanting to put as much distance between himself and Benedick as possible. He could scarcely believe that his old friend, his old mentor, would dabble in such dark magic. He felt a little foolish now. He felt he should have spotted some telltale sign. The insult upon his parents, though, was something that Salazar would not easily forget.

He got back to the inn a lot sooner than he'd expected and, once he'd stormed into their room, he found a puzzled Belle staring back at him.

"What's happened, Salazar?" She asked anxiously.

"It's nothing!" He grunted, wishing he'd had the sense to stay away until he'd calmed down somewhat.

"I thought your meeting would take a little longer than this. Has something bad happened?"

He sat down upon the windowsill and stared out over the busy city, glaring angrily at the faint outline of his own reflection. He just shook his head in reply.

"Salazar," she breathed, warily taking up a seat next to him and trying to gain eye contact. "Talk to me. I'm here for you," she said, taking his hand. "What is it?"

"Benedick," he snarled, still not looking at her. "He said some horrid things about my parents. He tried to get me involved in...some bad things. Very dark magic." She remained silent, nodding in understanding at his side. "He wants to teach me all he knows about the Dark Arts so that I can pass it all onto the students!"

"Well," she said slowly, thinking for a moment. "Perhaps he means well. There are always many sides to things. The Dark Arts aren't necessarily bad, are they?"

Salazar turned to look at her now. She cowered beneath his glare, for he looked at her as though she was both stupid and disgusting.

"Are you really that ignorant of magic?" He said acidly, laughing with a great amount of bitterness in his tone. "Anyone who thinks such a thing is a fool!"

"Salazar, I - "

"I shouldn't have expected you to understand any of this. You're just a simple mortal."

It was only a few moments after he said this that Salazar felt guilt freeze his insides so suddenly that it seemed to knock the wind out of him. It had purely been an outburst of anger and he regretted it a moment too late. He turned to see Belle's hurt expression and felt his heart sink.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, moving towards her and taking her in his arms. "Ignore my temper. I didn't mean any of it."

"I know that," she said, although she still sounded upset by it. "Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to ask Benedick for help."

"We should leave," he sighed. "I don't think it's safe for us to be here."

Her breathing faltered for a brief moment and she pulled away slightly so that she could look up into his eyes.

"You think he'd come after us?" She muttered fearfully.

"I can't be sure but I wouldn't put it past him," he said darkly. "Not now."

Belle nodded in understanding and rested the side of her face against his chest once more. This made it easier for her to conceal her anxious expression.