"I do not believe in chance." Salazar must have heard her approach as he leaned on his forearms against the balcony, staring up at the stars.
Coming to stand beside him, her own head tipped back she asked him simply, "What makes you say that?" Salazar did not look at her when she asked that, simply smiled before laughing gently.
"Because chance is just that, chance. If I believe in it, it means that I would not be able to plan my own future. Chance makes everyone scared of their existence. I do not believe in it, thus it means nothing."
"You have strange views," Helga replied, turning away from him and heading towards the wooden door. "It’s one of the things I enjoy about your company. Goodnight, Mr. Slytherin."
As Helga left the balcony, Salazar grinned a small grin, curious to learn about the young witch who he had lived with for five years and yet had no idea about her.
“Murder! Witch!” shouted a villager as he saw young Helga Hufflepuff bent over the dead body of William McKenneth, the village blacksmith. Blood soaked Helga’s hands and clothes, as well as McKenneth’s. “Murder! Helga is a witch! She murdered William! Someone come!”
In the haze that followed, Helga felt rough hands grab her by her arms, yanking her up and pulling her away from the scene of the murder. But was it? Had William McKenneth really been murdered? All Helga remembered was that she had come to see William about crafting her new battle sword when she seen his body. But all she saw was blood and death and pain. Was she the one responsible? Had she really murdered him? No, no she hadn’t. But why couldn’t she speak?
'NO!" Helga shouted as she sat up in bed, her sweat soaked sheets clinging to her small body. "A dream? But...it’s what happened."
A knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she whispered, wondering if they had heard her. The door opened and Rowena entered, a torch in her hand.
"Godric has had a vision," Rowena says, "Helga...we all know about your past."
Helga gasped, and pulled the sheets tighter against her. A small tear ran down her face.
"Godric and Salazar are waiting in the Great Hall. You must come with me. We will fix this."
Helga nodded and dressed quickly, following Rowena out the door and down into the Great Hall. Godric and Salazar were indeed waiting.
“They are here,” Salazar whispered, watching the distant glow of the torches coming towards them. He felt Helga slip her small hand inside his own; he roughly squeezed it to assure her he would not leave. Godric and Rowena joined them on the wall, watching out among the hills as the villagers came closer and closer towards their castle.
“We must fight them,” Rowena stated, “for the safety of the students and the castle.”
“No,” whispered Helga, removing her hand from Salazar’s and stepping forward, grasping the stone ledge with cold, white fingers. “I will surrender. Five years is long enough to run. I will no longer be weak; I will stand up for what I believe in; myself.”
“Helga, you mustn’t,” Rowena replied, stepping forward and grasping her friend’s hand, “You did nothing wrong. They have no right to blame you.”
"That is for me to decide," Helga insisted, moving forward towards the castle doors. Salazar and Godric stood in front of her, not inclining to move. "Move. I must do this."
"Please Helga," Godric insisted, "don't...don't do this."
"I must," Helga replied. She looked up at Salazar and she saw his black eyes flex with blue. He stepped away and pulled Godric with him. Helga moved forward and left through the gates. She could hear Rowena sobbing behind her. "Pray for my soul."
As soon as she stepped outside, rough hands grabbed at her and pulled her towards them. Ropes were tired around her and Helga saw the large fire that had been started.
"Helga Hufflepuff, you have been accused of witchery. And for the death of William McKenneth. The right to a fair trial and a jury of your peers has been requited. You are to be burnt at the stake, until dead. May God have mercy on your soul."
Helga watched as the torch bearer walked forward, the fire already alight.
“Stop!” shouted a voice, and Helga looked up and saw Salazar emerging from the crowd. The torch bearer stopped and looked up at the dark haired man. “You will not kill this innocent girl,” he shouted again, stepping up next to Helga, who wished she could throw her arms around him and kiss him, if not for the ropes holding her around the pole, “for she is not the murderer. I know who is.”
No!
“Who! Speak now, stranger,” shouted Wallace Hullgrowth, the man whom had tied Helga’s ropes, “Speak or the witch will die.”
“I am.”
NO!
“Salazar, no! Do not admit to this terrible crime.”
“Hush, Helga,” Salazar stated, facing the crowd. “It is I whom you are looking for. Take me in her place. She has done no wrong, and I admit to this crime.”
“But why! Why would you cause your own downfall?” she questioned him, as he stepped closer to her. Slowly, he brought one large calloused hand up to touch her face. It was something she had never experienced with Salazar. She closed her eyes as he gently stroked her cheek. He moved his face closer to hers, taking in her wonderful scent. She smelt like lilies and honey. He sniffed her hair, his hand still on her face. Helga opened her eyes again, looking into his own, dark, deep ones. Smiling very gently, Salazar lowered his mouth to hers. It was only short, but in the quick time that their lips met, kissed and parted, Helga felt her very insides burn. He tasted like firewhisky and tobacco.
He looked down into her eyes after he pulled away from her lips, groaning at the feeling of her lips on his own. “Does that answer your question?” Tears fell from her eyes, running down her cheeks and onto his soft woollen shirt.
"It answers one but only creates others," she replied, feeling him being pulled away from her.
Helga watched as Salazar was bound and wrapped with ropes. She knew his magic would have been able to break the ropes, and yet he did not move them. Strong arms held her in place, she could not even run towards him.
“Please, do not do this,” she spoke to him through his mind. Her eyes called out to him, her heart tugged at his. Slowly, she closed her eyes. “Salazar…please.”
“I cannot. I know you are innocent, and if this is the only way to see you through, then so be it.”
“Are you ready you receive your punishment?”
“Aye!” Salazar’s voice rang out high through the crowds of people. Helga paled. This was it. He was going to die.
“Godric! Rowena! Please, do something.”
“We cannot. It’s his destiny.” Helga watched on as the fire was started, the flames lapping at his feet. Forcing all her energy and magic, Helga wrenched herself from the arms that held her and ran towards Salazar.
“Helga, stop!” he shouted at her, ignoring the searing pain he felt from the burns.
“Helga!” But she continued forward—through the crowd until she reached Salazar. She jumped the fire circle and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’ll never let you go,” she whispered, starring up into his eyes. As the fire burned around them, Helga smiled gently, “I do not believe in chance.”
Fin
