The Marauders: A Hogwarts Tale

Godric groaned softly as he stirred from his deep slumber. He squinted against the warm morning rays filtering through the window. The air was thick with the scent of disinfectant mixed with a faint hint of herbs, both unfamiliar and oddly comforting. The bed beneath him was soft, far too comfortable to be his own. Slowly, his gaze swept the room, taking in the neatly arranged potion vials and crisp, sterile atmosphere. This was definitely not his room.

 "Ugh…" he muttered, attempting to shift. A sharp wave of pain coursed through him, forcing his teeth to grit. Every muscle screamed in protest. "What happened? It feels like I've been trampled by a herd of wild Abraxans."

Memories came in fragmented flashes—the duel with Argus DunBroch, the overwhelming power that surged through him at The Congregation, the encounter with Salazar. Then… nothing. He winced, trying to piece the events together.

Something soft and warm pressed against him, breaking his thoughts. He blinked and looked down, startled to see a delicate arm draped across his chest. Strands of snowy white hair brushed against his shoulder. He realized it was Raine.

She snuggled closer, murmuring softly. Her wolfen tail wagged gently, brushing against the edge of the bed. "Mmm… Good morning, Godric," she said sleepily, her golden eyes fluttering open.

The realization hit her like a lightning bolt. Her eyes widened in horror, and she scrambled off the bed, her cheeks glowing a deep scarlet. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—!" she stammered, wringing her hands nervously. "I thought—I mean, I was just—Oh, by Freya, forgive me!"

Before Godric could respond, a loud, startled shriek interrupted them.

"Aaaah!" Helga jolted awake from a chair beside the bed, sending a precarious stack of books crashing to the floor. "It wasn't me, Professor! It was that evil Niffler!" she blurted, blinking blearily. "Um, wh-what time is it? Is it breakfast already?" Rubbing her eyes, she looked around in confusion before her gaze landed on Godric. Her face lit up with a dazzling smile. "Oh, Godric, you're awake!"

Rowena, seated nearby with a book in hand, marked her place with calm precision before offering a small smile. "About time," she said. "I was beginning to consider charming your eyelids open."

Helga rushed to Godric's side, throwing her arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. "We were so worried!" she cried, squeezing him tightly. His face puffed up like a toad as he struggled to breathe. "I thought you'd sleep through exams, and I'd have to take them for you!"

"Heh, thanks, Helga…" Godric winced, awkwardly patting her back as he tried not to cry from the pain. When she finally released him, he exhaled a shaky breath and turned to Rowena. "So, how long was I out? Surely not that long."

Rowena gave him a pointed look, her sharp gaze unwavering. "A week, Godric," she said plainly. "You missed quite a bit. But don't worry—I took meticulous notes for you. Even color-coded them."

Godric's crimson eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. "Wait, a week? Bloody hell…"

Rowena leaned back slightly, her expression softening. "Raine hasn't left your side, you know," she said, nodding toward the wolfen girl fidgeting nervously nearby. "Seems like she's taken a liking to you, and I hear Therianthropes are a fiercely loyal race."

Raine tugged at the metal collar around her neck, her golden eyes avoiding his as she stammered, "I… I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Godric's stern expression melted into a warm smile, his voice gentle. "Thank you, Raine. That actually means a lot."

Raine's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she fidgeted even more. "It… it was nothing," she muttered, though her wagging tail betrayed her embarrassment.

Godric's smile faltered as he scanned the room, his eyes narrowing slightly. Something—or someone—was conspicuously absent. "Um… where's Salazar?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "Is he alright?"

Helga and Rowena exchanged a glance, their expressions turning somber. "Um… about that…" Helga hesitated, then gestured for Rowena to speak.

Rowena crossed her arms, her posture rigid as her tone turned frosty. "When I found out what happened at The Congregation…" She paused, taking a moment to steady herself. "Well, let's just say I gave him a piece of my mind. He's been avoiding us like Dragon Pox ever since."

"I… I see," Godric murmured, his gaze dropping as he fell into silence, lost in thought.

Helga leaned in closer, her honey-colored eyes studying his expression intently. "You're not still mad at him, are you?" she asked, a mischievous glint sparking in her eyes. "Because if you are, I've got a couple of Whiz-Bangs with his name on them!" She grinned, her fingers twitching as if itching to act on the idea.

Godric shook his head, a small, rueful smile creeping onto his lips. "No… no, I'm not mad. Not really," he said softly. "I'll admit, I was furious. I may have said some things—things I wish I could take back." He sighed, running a hand through his crimson hair. "Salazar's an insufferable git most of the time, but… he's our insufferable git, you know?"

Helga snorted, unable to hide her grin, while Rowena gave an exasperated roll of her eyes, though her lips quirked in reluctant agreement.

"Well," Helga said with a playful shrug, "if you're ready to forgive him, I suppose I'll hold off on the Whiz-Bangs… for now."

Raine smiled shyly from the corner, her tail wagging again as the tension in the room lightened ever so slightly.

****

The door to Godric's room swung open, and a striking figure entered with an air of effortless grace. She was unlike anyone Godric had ever encountered. Her flowing garment of deep black and gold shimmered like liquid sunlight, the fabric hugging her frame before cascading in elegant folds. One end was draped gracefully over her shoulder, completing the regal look. Her warm brown skin seemed to radiate its own light. Gold bangles on her wrists jingled softly with her movements, and delicate jewelry adorned her neck and braided hair, glinting like tiny constellations.

Her once stern expression softened as her dark eyes fell upon Godric. "Ah, Mister Gryffindor," she said, her voice rich and melodic, her accent unfamiliar but soothing. She approached the bed with a clipboard tucked under her arm, adjusting her glasses with a practiced motion. "Finally deciding to rejoin us in the land of the living, I see."

Godric blinked, momentarily struck by her commanding presence. "I'm sorry, and you are?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

"Ah, where are my manners?" she said with a gentle smile. "I am Doctor Sadira Adani, Excalibur Academy's resident healer and medical expert."

As she moved closer, she noticed Godric's gaze lingering on her. Her brow arched slightly; her tone laced with faint amusement. "Something of interest, Mister Gryffindor?"

Godric's cheeks flushed crimson. "No, I apologize, Doctor Adani… it's just that…" he trailed off, fumbling for words.

She sighed, rolling her eyes with a knowing look. "If you must know, I am indeed a Vagabond," she said matter-of-factly. "I come from a place called India in our world, though from a rather different time." 

Godric nodded slowly; his curiosity piqued but tempered by his embarrassment.

Rowena stepped forward, her concern evident in her posture and tone. "Doctor Adani," she said, her gaze flicking from the doctor to Godric. "Is he alright? Are there any lasting effects we should be worried about?"

Doctor Adani adjusted her glasses and flipped through Godric's chart; her expression composed but sharp. "Aside from the gash on his forehead and some general soreness for a few weeks, Mister Gryffindor is remarkably fine," she said, glancing at him with a measured gaze. She closed the chart and leveled her eyes at him. "But I must ask, Mister Gryffindor… is this your first time using Vis Vitalis?"

"Did you just say Vis Vitalis?" Rowena gasped; her eyes wide as her jaw nearly dropped. "By Hecate, now it all makes sense! That's… that's incredibly advanced magic!"

"Huh?" Helga tilted her head, scratching at the strands of her brown hair, her expression adorably puzzled. "Vis-the-what now? Is that some kind of fancy spell to make your hair grow faster?"

Godric frowned; the term unfamiliar to him. His crimson eyes narrowed in thought as he shook his head. "I… I don't know, Doctor Adani," he admitted, his voice steady but laced with confusion. "It's just something I've been able to do since I was a boy. I didn't even realize it was magic."

Rowena leaned forward, her voice tinged with awe and reverence. "Vis Vitalis is one of the most powerful forms of Enhancement Magic from a bygone time," she explained, her tone almost breathless. "It's not just difficult to learn—it's nearly impossible to master. Practitioners of the art were already incredibly rare centuries ago, so much so that many believed it had become completely extinct."

Doctor Adani nods, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "And for good reason," she said sternly. "It was both reckless and dangerously foolish to use magic you clearly have no experience with, Mister Gryffindor. Vis Vitalis forces the body beyond its natural limits, pushing it to heights no ordinary person could ever achieve."

Rowena nodded, her awe giving way to a solemn tone. "It's said to grant the strength to best even a dragon in single combat," she added quietly. "But that power comes at a terrible cost. The strain it places on the human body is… monumental."

Doctor Adani crossed her arms, fixing Godric with a piercing stare. "You should consider yourself extraordinarily lucky to be alive, Mister Gryffindor," she said, her voice heavy with authority. "Many who attempt Vis Vitalis without proper training and guidance don't normally survive the experience. It's not a gift—it's a gamble. And one that often ends in disaster."

A heavy silence settled over the room, the weight of the revelation pressing down on everyone like a tangible force. Godric's gaze flicked between Doctor Adani and Rowena, the gravity of their words sinking in. His usually confident expression faltered, replaced with a mix of uncertainty and quiet resolve.

Raine reached out hesitantly, her delicate fingers brushing against Godric's hand. Her golden eyes shone with quiet relief as she whispered, "I… I'm glad you're alright, Godric."

Godric swallowed hard, his gaze lowering to their joined hands. His voice was faint, almost a murmur. "I… I had no idea," he admitted, the weight of realization heavy in his tone. "I thought it was just… something everyone could do if they tried hard enough."

Helga, ever eager to lighten the mood, forced a smile despite the tension in the room. "Well, look on the bright side!" she said, her voice slightly shaky. "At least you've got a wicked new party trick, right?"

Doctor Adani sighed deeply as she fixed Helga with a pointed look. "This is no laughing matter, Miss Hufflepuff," she said firmly. "If Mister Gryffindor insists on pursuing this magic further—and I suspect he will—he will need extensive training to control it. That spell is not something to be taken lightly."

"I'll help," Rowena said without hesitation, her voice resolute as she straightened in her chair. "I'll read every book in the library on Vis Vitalis. It's not much, but it's a start," she added, her sharp sapphire blue eyes glinting with determination.

Godric looked around the room. The unwavering support in their gazes made his throat tighten. "Thank you," he said, his voice quiet but filled with gratitude. "All of you. I… I won't let this power control me. I'll learn to master it."

Doctor Adani nodded approvingly, her expression softening. "Then let that be your first lesson, Mister Gryffindor," she said. "True power isn't just the ability to wield great magic—it's knowing when and how to use it."

She then inhaled deeply, her tone calm but firm. "That being said, Mister Gryffindor, I'll need you to stay here for the next three days under observation."

Godric's crimson eyes widened in disbelief as he slumped back against his pillow. "Three more days?" he protested. "But Doctor Adani, I've been asleep for a week! Surely, I've had enough rest by now."

"Doctor's orders," she replied. "Be thankful that your recklessness landed you in a warm bed and not the morgue. I'll be back to check on you later. Until then…" Doctor Adani trailed off as she leaves the room.

She passed a familiar figure stood just inside the entrance, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Salazar lingered there, his usual smirk absent, replaced by an uncharacteristically subdued expression—almost… defeated.

Rowena's gaze immediately narrowed as her posture stiffened. "You sure have some nerve showing your face here, Salazar," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "After what you pulled, I ought to—"

"Ro!" Helga suddenly grabbed Rowena's arm, cutting her off mid-sentence with a bright, exaggerated cheerfulness. "Didn't you mention earlier that you were hungry? Because I'm positively starving!" She grinned widely. "Think they've still got some of that banana cake from last night hiding in the kitchen?"

Rowena blinked, startled by the abrupt shift. "Wait, what? I didn't—"

"And Raine!" Helga spun toward the wolfen girl, her amber eyes sparkling with mischief. "You work in the kitchens, don't you? Fancy showing us where they keep the real goodies? I swear they've got some Trickle Tarts stashed somewhere!"

Raine hesitated, glancing at Godric before nodding. "I… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to show you where they keep the leftovers."

"Perfect!" Helga beamed, already tugging a confused Rowena toward the door. "Come on, Ro! Cake waits for no one!"

"Helga, what are you—" Rowena began, but her protests were drowned out as Helga enthusiastically pumped her fists in the air, practically dragging her out of the room.

Raine smiled softly at Godric. "I'll see you later, Godric," she said gently before following Helga and Rowena out of the room, leaving Godric and Salazar alone.

The door clicked shut, and an uneasy silence filled the space. The boy turned his attention to Salazar, who lingered by the door, uncharacteristically hesitant. For a moment, neither spoke, the weight of their last encounter hanging heavily between them.

****

Salazar hesitated before stepping forward, his usually confident demeanor replaced with an air of uncertainty. He pulled up a chair and sat heavily beside Godric's bed, fidgeting with his robes. "So…" he began awkwardly, his voice quieter than usual. "How… how are you feeling?"

Godric chuckled weakly, managing a faint smirk despite the lingering aches in his body. "Well… I've certainly been better," he said, his tone light but laced with exhaustion. "Feels like I went ten rounds with a cave troll and had my sorry ass handed to me."

A heavy, awkward silence settled between them, the weight of unspoken words pressing down like an invisible barrier. Salazar looked down, avoiding Godric's gaze, while Godric stared at the ceiling, his expression thoughtful.

Finally, Godric broke the silence, inhaling deeply. "Look… Salazar, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said before. It's just—"

"No," Salazar interrupted, his voice firm yet subdued. "Godric, don't. I'm the one who's sorry."

Godric's crimson eyes widened in surprise as he turned to face Salazar.

Salazar exhaled, running a hand through his sleek hair. "You were right. Helga and Rowena were right," he admitted, his voice tinged with bitterness—not toward them, but himself. "I've been so focused on my own ambitions, so consumed by my hunger for control, that I didn't stop to think about what it would cost. I was so desperate to taste power that I was willing to put you, my dear friend, in harm's way to get it." He looked up, his emerald eyes shadowed with guilt. "Nothing—nothing—should be worth that."

For a moment, Godric stared at Salazar, stunned by the rare vulnerability in his words. Then, his lips quirked into a smirk, his tone laced with playful disbelief. "By the Old Gods," he said, raising an eyebrow. "The almighty and powerful Salazar Slytherin apologizing? Somebody pinch me—I must still be dreaming."

Salazar rolled his eyes, but a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Don't get used to it, Gryffindor," he muttered, his voice lighter. "Anyway… I also want you to know, should you decide not to partake in our little game… I certainly can respect that."

Godric nodded slowly; his expression thoughtful. "I appreciate that, Salazar. I really do. And, honestly? I don't think Excalibur needs another gang running about," he said with a small, wry smile. "I still intend to change things… just not like that."

Salazar leaned forward, clasping his hands together, a glint of mischief sparking in his emerald eyes. "By the way," he began, his tone sly, "a little birdie told me you actually threatened to chop off Peter Creedy's hands. Right to his face. Please, tell me that's true."

Godric puffed out his chest slightly, his own smirk spreading across his face. "Oh, you better believe it."

For a moment, Salazar simply stared at him, then chuckled. That chuckle turned into a laugh, and before long, both boys erupted into full-blown fits of laughter. The tension between them shattered like brittle glass, leaving only camaraderie in its wake.

"Oh, Gryffindor," Salazar wheezed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Threatening faculty now? You've gone positively insane! Wish I'd been there to see the look on his face. It's about damned time someone stuck it to Creepy Creedy."

Godric grinned. "Well, Slytherin, maybe next time, we'll do it together."

Salazar tilted his head, his smirk growing wider. "A bold proposition, Gryffindor."

Godric extended a hand toward him, his expression softening. "It's good to have you back… friend."

Salazar took the offered hand, gripping it firmly. "Likewise." His smirk softened into something genuine. "It's good to be back… friend."