Dearest Friends
Spoilers: Nope
Warnings: Angst, m/m & f/f (gasp!), EIG (everyone is gay) universe. . .
Notes: This is for Manda, who was in a nasty car accident and whose
fave pairings are Godric Gryffindor/Salazar Slytherin, Snape/Draco, and
Snape/Lockhart. This is to cheer and comfort her. I've never done any of
those pairings before--as a matter of fact, I've never done m/m slash
before--so I hope it works.
Godric Gryffindor made a face at Salazar Slytherin. "I still don't understand why you're so convinced that only wizards
from old families should be admitted to our school," he argued. Salazar shrugged, his aristocratic face stubborn. "You
ought to know," he said. "It's awfully simple really-people from established families have the traditions, the
understanding of what it means to be a wizard. Muggle-born wizards just don't have the background. Godric sighed.
"Old friend," he said affectionately, "One of these days I'm going to convince you that you're wrong about
Muggle-borns. You know that's your grandfather talking-and do you really want to spend the rest of your life like him,
with a wand stuck somewhere that uncomfortable?" Salazar started to say something indignant, but Godric stopped
him by placing a hand over his mouth. "Not another word," he said softly. Salazar looked at his friend with an
unreadable expression for a long minute, then gently removed the hand. "All right," he sighed. After a pause, Godric
interjected, "Where are Rowena and Helga?" Salazar shrugged. "Rowena said something about a book she needed in
her room, and Helga went with her. You know witches-always doing things together," he said. Godric rose
purposefully. "I need to ask them if they've seen those books that were supposed to arrive for the school library. I ask
you, how in the world are we supposed to put a school together if the Ministry can't even send us our materials_"
Rolling his eyes at the familiar complaint, Salazar followed his friend out of the room and down the winding hallways of
the castle, the impressive edifice of which was to house the first school of wizardry that Britain had ever seen. Rowena
Ravenclaw had chosen a room up in one of the towers, because it had ample room for her extensive personal library.
Helga Hufflepuff's was not far away-she and Rowena, long inseparable friends, had insisted on being close to one
another-in the base of the same tower, near the area where the greenhouses were to be built. Godric strode along
and Salazar, as always, had to quicken his pace to keep up. Godric generally tried to match his own pace to his shorter
friend's, but today he was preoccupied with a near-infinite number of details for the school, tasks to be done and
plans to be implemented. Hence, when he reached the top of the tower, Salazar had fallen behind him. Rowena's door
stood ajar, and when Godric touched it the door swung silently open.
The sight that met Godric's eyes was one that was totally and utterly unexpected to him. He gulped and stood
immobile for a few long seconds before he had he presence of mind to slip away and pull the door closed behind him.
The two occupants of the room, fortunately, had not been in a position to notice much. Godric closed his eyes for a
moment, seeing again the images that had impressed themselves into his eyes: Helga's soft curves and blonde curls,
Rowena's raven hair and athletic litheness, entwined in a deeply passionate embrace. Salazar almost ran into him. An
annoyed expression on his face, he was obviously about to make some cutting remark when Godric clapped a hand to
his mouth again. After a moment, when he was sure the outburst had been forestalled, Godric withdrew the hand.
Salazar glared at him. "This is becoming an unfortunate habit of yours," he muttered. "What in the name of_" Godric
pushed him towards the stairs. "I'll explain in a moment," he hissed at Salazar. "Rowena and Helga_er_don't wish to
be disturbed right now." Salazar raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Surely you don't mean that they're_" he inquired
half-jestingly, but stopped when Godric didn't deny it. "Let's get back to my room and I'll tell you," Godric sighed.
Godric refused to explain anything until he'd maneuvered Salazar into a sofa by his fireplace. Then he went and got
himself a drink, offering Salazar one as well, but his friend refused. He watched Godric move around the room, but was
silent till Godric sat on the other end of the sofa. Then Salazar leaned forward. "What was that about?" he demanded
of Godric. "Surely you don't mean that Rowena and Helga are_" "Are lovers, Salazar," Godric finished. Salazar blinked
and leaned back. "And I never guessed_" he mused. Godric looked sideways at his friend. "This isn't going to bother
you, is it?" he asked worriedly. Salazar leaned forward. "No," he finally said. "If it did_well, I'd be a hypocrite, wouldn't
I?" Godric stared at his friend. "Salazar, you_? Salazar sighed, scrubbing his knuckles across his eyes. "Prefer the
company of my own sex, yes," he said tiredly. He looked over at Godric, eyes intense. "That isn't going to bother you,
is it?" Godric slowly shook his head. "Never, Salazar," he declared, never taking his eyes from the other wizard. "You
are still my dearest friend, nothing will ever change that_how long have you known?" Salazar absently chewed on his
knuckles, dropping his brilliant gaze, dark lashes sweeping down. Just as Godric began to think that Salazar was never
going to answer, was going to keep as silent as a stone, Salazar began to speak. Slow and halting his words were, as
if he were fishing them one by one from some dark corner of his mind. But they came steadily.
"The first boy I ever cared for_he lived in the town I grew up in," Salazar began. "We grew up together. My
grandfather hated it. He was always telling my parents that no good would come of my association with him." He
turned his dark eyes to Godric. "You see," he said quietly, he was a Muggle." Godric gasped. "We were completely
inseparable," Salazar went on. "He was my closest friend. I thought he was the most wonderful person in the world. I
was always over at his house. He never came to mine, because of my grandfather. Somehow, I never told him I was a
wizard. I tried to forget it myself, most of the time. Wizard life was my stifling ancestral home, my crotchety
grandfather. Muggle life was light, warmth, merriment_his family accepted me as another son." Salazar took a painful
breath. "Soon after we both came of age," he got out, "we_became lovers." Godric waited for more, but the subject
was obviously paining Salazar, who visibly struggled to control himself, them moved on with the tale. "At long last," he
continued, "I determined that I must tell him about my nature. How could I keep a part of myself from someone who
was as close to me as he?" Godric waited with bated breath. Finally he could not keep himself from asking, "What
happened then, Salazar?" His friend's eyes were suddenly liquid with tears. "He mocked me, told me I was unnatural
and degenerate, and that he never wanted to see me again."
Salazar's words hung on the air, and Godric felt as if his own heart was breaking open. He wanted to comfort his
beloved friend, but was unsure what he could do or say against the enormity of that rejection, that betrayal. Salazar
was curled in on himself as if to deflect blows. Godric moved towards him. He touched Salazar's cheek gently, brushing
away the wetness. Salazar made a soft noise when Godric caressed him, half moan, half sob. The pure anguish in that
sound, distilled by so many years of isolation, touched Godric to the core. Not sure what he did, but driven regardless,
Godric took Salazar into his arms and began tenderly kissing the tears away. Suddenly Salazar jerked back, eyes
blazing. "Don't pity me," he hissed. Godric looked steadily at his friend. "May I love you instead?" he asked quietly.
Salazar stared at Godric's honest face for a long moment, then flung himself, half-laughing, half-sobbing, into Godric's
arms again. Godric methodically began planting soft kisses along the soft skin of his friend's neck, tracing up his
jawline, until he reached Salazar's narrow lips. The kiss was deep and full, and Godric was dizzied by a storm of
sensations that whirled him around, blew him over and back again. Dimly, in the back of his mind, he was thinking that
now he knew why Salazar had such a ridiculous prejudice against Muggle-borns and Muggles. Surely now he would be
able to convince Salazar that the cruelty of that one Muggle lover was not indicative of all Muggles' behavior.
Surely_but for the time being Godric was drowning in the warm softness of Salazar's kisses, and such matters could
wait until another day.
