|SIYE Time:13:00 on 16th June 2021|
The Child of Order and Chaos
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Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, General, Romance
Warnings: Sexual Situations, Violence
Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated in over 2 years ***
Harry Potter is sentenced with the task of destroying the remaining fragmetns of Lord Voldemort's soul. Wandering aimlessly until he meets a specter from the past, someone thought to be dead, he is now faced with a new challenge…one greater than the elimination of the horcruxes of the Dark Lord.
Hitcount: Story Total: 2482
Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.
This was the prologue of a story that I have posted on wizardtales.net. It goes with a H/G story that I have toyed around with in my head.
Cold. She was cold, though it was a humid summer’s day. Her entire being was frozen in an eternal state of misery. And, it was the only feeling she had had in a month. Three of the four founders stood upon the large tower’s balcony, resolutely watching the shadowed figure cross the horizon. Never once did he stop, not once did he glance back. Instead, he solidly walked the demault road, he proud steps never faltering. Salazar Slytherin was leaving Hogwarts forever.
She had known it would happen, the events of late had been leading to it. Her thoughts were rambled, confused, desolate. She was alone. Forsaken by all others, she watched the one person she needed in life leave her to die. And her two friends beside her did not even look destitute that he was away from their lives. Helga, beautiful Helga’s snowing eyes were filled with unshed tears, tears that would soon be forgotten with the struggle of the ensuing crisis. Godric’s ruddy eyes gleamed bright in the sunlight, triumph radiating from them. He was to blame for her misery, for her loss of love. It was he. He had been jealous of Salazar, though he was his best friend; he had been overcome by envy. Godric had only seen what Salazar held, something he never would, and had harshly acted, accusing Salazar of genocide. Salazar did not want racial purity, he wanted magical cleansing. It was not the same thing! It wasn’t, it wasn’t…
Rowena covered her mouth with her alabaster hand, her dank grey eyes forcing out the opaque tears. They trailed down the curve of her cheeks, dripping onto the stone floor. Godric noticed her crying and comfortingly placed his hand upon hers.
“Roe,” he ventured.
She paid him no heed. She would not ever speak to this abomination of a man again! NEVER! She jerked it from his grasp.
“Rowena, I did what needed to be done, do you understand me? I’m sorry for your loss, but it will get better in the future, I promise. Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone much more worthy of your love,” Godric cooed, his hand on hers once more.
“Love, Godric,” she seethed, “is not based on what one deserves. It is not something given freely nor lightly. Love rarely comes more than once in a lifetime.”
“Rarely, Roe is the operative word. I’m sure it will come again for you.”
“I don’t want it again Godric!” she screamed, “I don’t want to love you nor Humphrey nor Charles nor any one else! I refuse even to consider loving any one but Salazar! Salazar, do you hear me, Salazar!”
At that moment, her screams echoing through out the wood and mountains, Salazar turned around. His ebony black eyes searched until he saw his cousin, his nemesis and his lover. Her silky hair was smooth yet frazzled, her dress wrinkled and her face tearstained with grief. Her tiny hands were balled into fisted as she screamed at Gryffindor. He had turned because he had heard her scream his name. He turned just in time, to see her burst into tears again. He briefly pressed his hand to his lips and blew a final kiss to her. Only the neutral Helga Hufflepuff saw.
Salazar resumed walking; the well-trodden road was dusty and lonely. In his hand, he clutched the last love token that Rowena had given him. Her signet ring. On her neck, she wore a golden locket engraved with a single serpent, his last gift to her. He clutched in the ring in his palm, his soul broken.
“Godric, this day will be remembered forever in history. None will forget the day you banished your only friend. And though you shall try to hide what heinous acts you have done, I shall see to it that our entire world knows what you have done,” Rowena hissed, “I swear by the magic of all ages, upon my family and upon all that I hold dear in this world, no one shall forget what you have done.”
“Rowena, I have done nothing wrong, nothing to be ashamed of. Try as you might, the true war will be recorded as it has happened. Slytherin’s betrayal shall be one all shall know. You cannot twist the facts. Do not try to,” Godric threatened.
“I cannot twist the truth of the matter as you will. No matter what you claim, future years will never know the seething hell and the black infernal background, the countless minor scenes and interiors of the war; and is it best they should not. The real war will never get in to the books...” she returned the threat.
She turned and fled, muttering under her breath, “…unless I record it.”
Godric and Helga remained on the terrace, emotionless and astute. Helga finally broke her resounding silence.
“For the brethren of the wise shall perish and its enemies rise. The servant’s master shall strike, sending the power of a thousand ages into chaos, and from it a child shall be born.”
“I heard Salazar’s prophecy as well, Helga, though its meaning is hidden from me.”
“Godric, you have begun it. The child of Order and Chaos’ life is in your hands. Any bloodshed ultimately will fall upon you,” she said.
“I know Helga, I know.”
“Then fix it,” she hissed and Disapparated.
Godric Gryffindor was left on the terrace, his mind racing, questioning all of his actions and his firm beliefs shaken. With a sigh, he recalled the first time that the met his companions, and remembered of his camaraderie with Salazar. Perhaps… no, it wasn’t true. He would not have stricken Slytherin from the school unless he had committed genocide, and he had, multiple times in fact. It had been proven. But, forcing his lover to admit it was anther thing entirely. Roe would see sense in time. And then, Hogwarts would be a magical haven once more.
The Betrayer roamed the world, his eyes sweeping the landscape. It was only a matter of time until the War began. Godric was not one to forget a slight, and he had insulted him rather brilliantly if he did say so himself. However, that war would cause massive casualties, and there would be innocent lives lost to the Shadow. Sides would be chosen; Roe would be with him, that he was certain. Gwain would most likely be, too. However Helga, as much as she did care for him, John, her husband, was a follower of Godric. This war would break her heart. Deep within his soul, he hoped she sided with Godric. He knew that it would save her marriage and that when he won, he would instantly forgive and, and to a lesser extent, John. Lesser men and women would also have a say in the war, blindly following orders, conspiring and promoting self-worth. None of that mattered. In the end, the victorious would prosper and life would go back to normal. Save Godric Gryffindor. The man that Salazar had counted as a friend for so long would regret that he crossed him. He would make sure of it.
Rowena Ravenclaw stormed into her sensual room, seething. “Stupid Godric Gryffindor! Stupid LIFE!”
She screamed in frustration. She loved Godric but as a brother and her love for Salazar was so much stronger. She broke into sobs once more. She turned her back to her window; her gaze would wander to Him if she didn’t. “Salazar,” she wept.
Exhausted, she fell against the guided wall, “Damn you Gryffindor. You’ve doomed us all.”
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