The Marauders: A Hogwarts Tale

As the night deepened, the laughter and chatter among the slaves gradually gave way to a calm stillness. One by one, they retired to their quarters, readying themselves for the long day ahead. Chef Gusteau bid everyone farewell, his voice softer now but still warm as he gave Godric a firm pat on the shoulder before leaving. The echoes of his heavy boots faded into the quiet corridors.

Hikari, still clutching her plush niffler tightly, let out a big, sleepy yawn. Her contented smile lingered as her eyelids drooped, her small frame swaying slightly where she sat.

"Well," Raine said gently, kneeling beside her, "looks like it's bedtime for our little birthday girl." She brushed a strand of silver hair from Hikari's face, her touch tender. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you to bed." Raine scooped Hikari up into her arms, cradling her effortlessly.

Hikari rubbed her eyes, her fuzzy plush pressed tightly to her chest. She turned her sleepy gaze toward Godric and smiled. "Good night, Mister Godric," she murmured, her voice soft and drowsy. "Thank you for the best birthday ever…"

Godric smiled warmly, his crimson eyes alight with affection. "Good night, Hikari," he said, waving as she nestled against Raine's shoulder. "Happy birthday."

As Raine approached him, Hikari nestled in her arms, their eyes met. In that brief moment, a world of unspoken emotions passed between them—gratitude, love, and a shared determination for a better future.

Raine leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Godric's in a lingering kiss. "Good night, my brave lion," she whispered, her golden eyes shining with warmth. "Sweet dreams."

"Good night, my love," Godric replied as he returned the kiss, his hand caressing her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Raine gave him a tender smile before turning, carrying Hikari out of the room. The sight of her retreating figure, with the little girl safe in her arms, left a warmth in Godric's chest that he couldn't quite put into words.

Once they had gone, Godric settled back at the table where Sophia waited. The old slave, her movements calm and deliberate, poured two glasses of butterbeer. She slid one toward him, the frothy amber liquid gleaming in the dim light.

"To kindness," she said, raising her glass with a faint smile, her eyes filled with quiet wisdom.

"To hope," Godric replied, clinking his glass lightly against hers.

"You know, that girl is lucky to have you," Sophia said. She took a sip of her butterbeer, her brown eyes distant and thoughtful. "You've brought so much light back into her life. Bless you, dear boy."

Godric leaned forward, sensing the gravity of her words. "Sophia," he said gently, "is there… something you need to tell me?"

Sophia's grip on her glass tightened, her knuckles whitening slightly. Her shoulders stiffened as she drew in a slow breath. "I remember," she began, her voice trembling, "back when… after those fifth years would…" She paused, her face contorting with suppressed anger and pain. "Have their way with her."

Godric's jaw clenched, his crimson eyes darkening with fury as he listened, his hands curling into fists on the table.

"It happened so often," Sophia continued, "that eventually, she stopped resisting entirely. She thought… she thought the sooner she gave in, the sooner they'd let her go."

Godric's expression hardened, his body tense as Sophia's words hung in the air like a dark cloud. The anguish in her voice was palpable, and her hands trembled slightly as she raised the glass to her lips again, taking a longer sip this time. Her eyes glistened, though she blinked back the tears.

"I have to admit," she said, "it was advice I'd given her—Gods forgive me." Her teeth clenched as she looked away, shame etched into her features. "But I know what it's like. I remember all too well how barbaric those boys can be."

She shook her head, her gaze fixed on the worn wood of the table. "She'd come back with her clothes torn, bruises all over her body. Her beautiful hair and fur stained. And at night…" Sophia's voice broke slightly. "At night, I'd hear her cry herself to sleep, calling for her parents… for her sister."

Godric's entire body trembled with barely restrained rage, his crimson eyes blazing like embers. "Those blasted whoresons," he growled through clenched teeth. "How could they?"

His fists slammed onto the table with a force that sent the glasses rattling, the sound reverberating through the quiet kitchen. "I swear, Sophia," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with a fiery intensity, "the next one who so much as looks at her the wrong way—I'll cut them down where they stand."

"And I won't stop there," he continued, his words sharp and seething. "I'll parade their maggot infested corpses from here to every corner of every realm, so every kingdom, every God-fearing soul in Avalon will know what happens to those who prey on the ones I hold dear." His fists tightened, his entire body trembling with the sheer force of his emotion. "That's my promise!"

Sophia reached out, placing her hand gently on his arm, her grip firm yet calming. "Don't lose yourself to anger, dear boy," she said quietly. "Raine needs your strength, not your vengeance. You've already given her something no one else has—a reason to believe in something better."

Godric took a deep, steadying breath, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly as Sophia's words sank in. He nodded; his jaw still tight but his resolve even stronger. "You're right, I'm sorry," he said. "But no one will ever hurt her again. Not while I still draw breath."

Sophia offered him a faint, sad smile. "That's all she needs from you, Godric," she said. "Your love, your protection, and your belief that she's worth fighting for."

Godric glanced toward the door where Raine had left with Hikari, his heart heavy yet resolute. "She deserves so much more," he said softly. "And I'll make sure she gets it.

"Truth is," Sophia began, "none of us really knew how to comfort her. We've all suffered in our own ways, after all." She paused, her brown eyes distant as if recalling memories too painful to relive. "I feared for so long that she would never learn to trust again, let alone love. But then you came along."

Sophia's gaze shifted, meeting Godric's eyes, and for the first time that evening, a faint glimmer of hope shone through her weathered expression. "I don't know how, or why, but she opened her heart to you, Godric. You've done something I never thought possible. And for that, I'm eternally grateful."

Godric's expression softened, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Thank you, Sophia," he said sincerely. "Raine's lucky to have you—and so are all the others. They look up to you."

Sophia leaned forward slightly, her eyes searching his face with an intensity that made him sit a little straighter. "I know this might sound like a silly question," she said. "But I need to hear it from you. Do you love her, Godric? Truly, deeply love her?"

Without hesitation, he met her gaze, his crimson eyes unwavering. "With all my heart," he said firmly. "With every fiber of my being."

Sophia held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, her lips curving into a warm, approving smile. "Then, I'll leave her in your capable hands, my boy," she said gently. But her tone grew serious as she added, "However, there's something you must understand. Raine is a therianthrope, and therianthropes… they mate for life."

Godric's brow furrowed slightly, recalling Rowena's words as Sophia continued. "Though their culture allows them a certain freedom in acts we may deem carnal, but love? True, deep love? It's sacred to them. No other race loves with such passion and devotion. Once they give their heart, it's forever." She leaned back slightly, her wise gaze steady. "So, my boy, I beg you—do not take her love lightly."

Godric nodded, his jaw tightening with resolve. "I understand," he said quietly but with conviction. "And I promise—I'll cherish her always."

Sophia studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, satisfied nod. "Good," she said simply, a flicker of relief crossing her face. "Hold onto that, and you'll do right by her."

Godric smiled, the weight of her words settling in his chest like a vow etched in stone. "I won't let her down," he said, more to himself than anyone else.

****

As the days passed and Old Hollow's Eve drew near, the castle brimmed with anticipation for the Samhain Ball. The excitement was contagious as students busied themselves with plans, outfits, and whispers about the grand feast. In Caerleon, the streets were alive with last-minute shoppers, bustling between tailors, apothecaries, and jewelers to perfect their looks for the evening. Excalibur Academy itself had transformed into a realm of enchantment, with floating pumpkins casting flickering lights, eerie decorations lining the corridors, and faint, haunting melodies drifting through the air.

That morning, while most of the academy still slept, Helena made her way to the training room located in the lower levels of the Ignis dormitories. The faint glow of dawn seeped through narrow windows as she adjusted the towel around her neck and tightened her grip on her wand. Dressed in fitted sportswear, she hummed to herself, eager to finally squeeze in some much-needed practice.

"It's been too long," she murmured with a smile. "Time to shake off the rust."

Pushing open the door to the training room, Helena froze in her tracks, her eyes widening at the unexpected sight before her. The large, polished room, with its mirrored walls and neatly arranged equipment, was not empty as she had anticipated.

There, in the center of the room, Godric was training with a wooden dummy, his longsword glinting under the warm glow of enchanted sconces. The blade, nearly four feet from tip to pommel, moved with a deadly grace in his hands as he executed a series of strikes and spins. His bare torso glistened with sweat, the defined muscles of his chest and arms moving fluidly as he pivoted and lunged. Each strike was precise, each movement deliberate yet effortlessly graceful. The sheer power and control in his form made it feel less like a sparring session and more like a dance.

Helena froze, her eyes wide and fixed on him. Despite her limited knowledge of mundane weapons, she couldn't tear her gaze away. There was something hypnotic about the way Godric moved, as though the blade were an extension of himself. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the intensity of her blush only growing as the moments stretched into minutes.

Time passed before Godric finally halted, lowering his sword as he panted softly. He wiped his brow with a towel, glancing toward the doorway. His crimson eyes widened slightly when he noticed her, but his surprise quickly turned into a warm smile.

"Oh, good morning, Helena!" he greeted. "I didn't see you there."

Helena jolted, her blush intensifying as she quickly averted her gaze. "G-good morning, Godric," she stammered, gripping her towel tightly. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to intrude. The training room is usually empty at this hour."

Godric chuckled, slinging his towel over his shoulder. "No need to apologize," he said, his tone relaxed and friendly. "It's my fault for taking over your usual spot. I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd get some practice in. I hope I didn't disturb you."

Helena quickly shook her head, her blush deepening as she dared to glance back at him. "No, not at all," she said softly. "It's just… I never realized how incredible you are with a sword." A small chuckle escaped her lips as she added, "Well, apart from your duel, of course."

Godric's smile turned sheepish, a faint blush of his own dusting his cheeks. He shrugged modestly, shifting the longsword in his grip. "I've had a sword in my hand since I could walk," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "My Uncle Gareth drilled it into me pretty hard growing up. He used to say, 'A man's swordsmanship is a reflection of his soul.'"

He chuckled softly, his crimson eyes glinting with a mixture of nostalgia and warmth. "Back then, I never really understood why he was so adamant about me learning the blade. But now… I think I get it. He believed I was mundane like him, that a sword would be the best replacement for a wand." Godric glanced down at the blade in his hand, his smile widening. "And now, well… I have both."

Helena's expression softened, her admiration growing. "He must have seen something special in you," she said gently. "You've been given a rare opportunity, Godric—a chance to master both worlds. Not many can say the same."

He looked at her, his smile deepening. "Maybe he did. Or maybe he just thought I needed something to keep me out of trouble," he joked lightly, though his gaze carried a quiet pride. "Either way, I owe him more than I can say. That blade taught me discipline, strength… and of course, purpose."

Helena smiled back, her earlier shyness giving way to a sense of ease. "Well, whatever the reason, it's impressive," she said. "And… it suits you."

Godric chuckled, adjusting the towel slung over his shoulder. "Thanks, Helena. That means a lot."

"My, my, Helena," came a familiar voice from behind her, dripping with mischief. "Enjoying the view, are we?"

Helena nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around to find Salazar leaning casually against the doorframe, his trademark smirk firmly in place. "Oh, blast it all, Salazar, you damned snake!" she cried, pressing a hand to her chest. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Godric looked between them, utterly perplexed. "View? What view? Did I miss something?" he asked innocently, his crimson eyes wide with confusion.

"Oh, nothing, my dear Gryffindor," Salazar replied smoothly, his grin widening. "Just Helena here, admiring your… swordsmanship." His tone was laden with mockery.

Helena's blush deepened to a shade rivaling Godric's eyes. "I wasn't— That's not—" She covered her face with her hands, groaning in exasperation. "Oh, by the stars!"

After a moment, she dropped her hands and took a steadying breath, glaring at Salazar as she composed herself. "By the way," she said sharply, "why in Avalon are you even here this early, Salazar? Shouldn't you be skulking about in some dark corner somewhere, doing… I don't know, Salazar things?"

Salazar placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Oh, my dear Helena, is it truly a crime to visit one's friends at the crack of dawn?" he said with a theatrical shake of his head. "You wound me madam."

"I… You… That's not—!" Helena stammered, her words stumbling over themselves as she searched for a retort. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Oh, come on, you two," Godric sighed, running a hand through his damp hair as he shook his head. "At least try to get along. I swear, you bicker like an old married couple."

Helena gasped, scandalized, her eyes wide with indignation. "Old married—?!"

Meanwhile, Salazar's smug grin only widened. "Ah, but Godric," he said smoothly, spreading his arms with mock innocence, "what fun would life be without a bit of bickering? Besides, I live to brighten dear Helena's day with my presence."

"Brighten?" Helena scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "You're about as bright as a burnt-out lantern, Salazar."

Godric rolled his eyes. "Anyway…" he began, his tone pointed, "how are your plans coming along for the Samhain Ball, Helena?"

Salazar tucked his hands into his pockets and strolled toward them, his every step radiating casual mischief. Flashing Helena a cheeky grin, he interjected before she could answer. "Speaking of which, I'm afraid you've lost your chance," he said with mock solemnity. "Our dear Godric is already spoken for."

Helena scoffed, arching an eyebrow. "Oh, please. I know all about him and Raine," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "Hell, I think anyone with a pair of eyes and half a brain knows that by now. It doesn't take a genius to see they're mad for one another."

"A pity, really," Salazar drawled, leaning in with a wicked grin. His tone was teasing, his posture deliberately provoking. "Considering how you were gawking at our shirtless champion over here, one might think you'd be green with envy."

Helena narrowed her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line as she glared at him. "Keep that up, Slytherin," she said in a dangerously calm tone, "and you'll find yourself permanently banned from the Ignis common room."

The atmosphere in the room grew thick and tense as Salazar and Helena locked eyes, their gazes brimming with unspoken animosity. Both of them wore exaggerated pouts, their stubborn expressions betraying a mutual unwillingness to back down.

"Jests aside…" Salazar finally broke the silence, turning his attention to Godric. "As much as I am on your side, you do know that you can't ask Raine to the ball." He shrugged nonchalantly, though his tone carried a seriousness that wasn't often present. "As I've said before, there are rules—and, much as I hate to admit it, they must be respected."

Helena's expression softened; her sharp retort forgotten. "I wish things could be different," she said quietly. "For both of you. Truly."

Godric offered them a reassuring smile, his crimson eyes warm. "That's alright. Raine understands," he said, his tone steady. "But don't worry—I've got something special planned."

Salazar raised a curious eyebrow, his smirk returning. "Oh? Do tell, my friend. What grand scheme have you concocted this time?"

Helena leaned in; her curiosity piqued. "Yes, Godric. What are you up to?" she asked, her brown eyes glinting with interest.

But Godric only grinned as he grabbed his scabbard from where it leaned against the wall, sheathing his blade with practiced ease. Slinging his shirt over his shoulder, he strode toward the door. "Sorry, but I've got to run," he said with a cheeky grin. "There's something I need to pick up in town. You'll see soon enough!"

And with that, Godric dashed out of the room, leaving both Salazar and Helena standing there, bewildered by his abrupt departure.

"What in Hecate's name was that about?" Helena asked, turning to Salazar, her brow furrowed.

Salazar rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his smirk turning contemplative. "I'm not sure," he said, his tone tinged with intrigue. "But knowing Godric, it's bound to be either brilliant or utterly disastrous." He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Perhaps both."

Helena sighed, shaking her head with a faint smile. "Let's just hope he doesn't get himself into trouble."

"Oh, trouble follows Godric like a shadow," Salazar quipped with a chuckle. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."