When Salazar finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the canopy of trees swaying gently overhead.
The smell of roasted meat drifted through the air.
For a brief moment, he wondered whether he had died.
Then the pain in his back reminded him otherwise.
He lay beside a small campfire in the middle of the forest. A short distance away, the young wizard who had intervened in the village sat tending the fire, patiently turning strips of venison over the flames.
Salazar's first instinct was not to look around.
It was to find his wand.
His hand immediately searched the ground beside him.
The familiar wood met his fingers almost at once.
It had been carefully placed within arm's reach.
The tightness in his chest eased ever so slightly.
Whoever this man was...
He hadn't attempted to disarm him.
Only after slipping the wand back into his robes did Salazar finally look toward the fire.
The other wizard noticed the movement and glanced over his shoulder.
"Glad you're awake."
He pointed toward the meat cooking above the flames.
"Have something to eat."
"I appreciate your help," he said after steadying his breathing, "but I'll be leaving."
He planted one hand against the ground and attempted to stand.
Pain shot through the wound in his back, forcing him to grit his teeth.
He stumbled before catching himself against the trunk of a nearby tree, letting out an irritated breath as fresh pain flared through his back.
The other wizard merely watched.
"I'd wait another day if I were you."
"I've survived worse."
"So have I."
Neither spoke again.
The crackling of the fire filled the silence between them.
Eventually, the meat finished roasting.
The wizard tore one piece in half before extending it across the fire.
"My name's Godric."
Salazar studied him for several moments.
There was no mockery.
No suspicion.
No fear.
Only a simple introduction.
After a long pause, Salazar reached forward and accepted the offered meat.
"...Salazar."
Godric smiled faintly.
The silence that followed was comfortable rather than hostile.
They ate without another word.
Godric leaned back against a fallen log.
Salazar found himself studying the strange young wizard across the fire.
The following morning, Salazar awoke feeling considerably better.
The healing potion, combined with a night's rest, had closed most of the wound across his back. Though it still ached whenever he moved too quickly, it was no longer debilitating.
He slowly sat up.
The campfire had long since burned down to glowing embers.
Godric was nowhere to be seen.
Only his horse remained nearby, lazily grazing beneath the trees.
Without a second thought, Salazar decided this was the perfect opportunity to leave.
He had no intention of travelling with a man who insisted on protecting Muggles.
After tightening the straps of his travelling pack, he quietly stepped onto the forest path.
He had barely walked a hundred paces before a familiar voice reached him.
"Leaving already?"
Salazar looked up.
Godric sat comfortably atop a large boulder beside the road, idly tossing a small stone from one hand to the other.
"You were waiting for me?"
"I thought you might try to sneak away."
Salazar simply walked past him.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to that village."
Godric stepped off the boulder and moved directly into the middle of the path.
"No."
"Move."
"No."
Salazar's eyes narrowed.
"While I appreciate you saving my life..."
"...I'll still kill you if you stand in my way."
He calmly drew his wand.
Godric sighed as though he'd expected nothing less.
"So be it."
He, too, drew his wand.
"You can certainly try."
The duel that followed was fierce but brief.
When it ended, Salazar stood breathing heavily, one knee pressed against the ground.
His injuries had not fully healed.
Against a fresh opponent of equal ability, his body simply could not keep up.
Godric lowered his wand without a trace of triumph.
"I told you."
Salazar clicked his tongue in annoyance.
Without another word, he pushed himself back to his feet, turned around, and began walking in the opposite direction.
A few moments later...
He heard footsteps behind him.
He stopped.
"...Why are you following me?"
Godric looked genuinely puzzled.
"Can't have you wandering off and killing innocents now, can I?"
"They weren't innocents."
"I know that's what you believe."
Salazar let out an exasperated groan.
"You're impossible."
"So I've been told."
Godric gave a sharp whistle.
A few moments later, his horse trotted out from between the trees.
Salazar merely shook his head and resumed walking.
Godric hel reins of his horse and followed at an easy pace.
Neither of them realized it then...
But that stubborn decision marked the true beginning of their journey together.
Over the months that followed, the two wandered from one end of Britain to the other.
They sparred whenever they found an open field.
They exchanged spells and sword techniques (Though Salazar wasn't very interested) around countless campfires.
Each taught the other skills their own upbringing had never provided.
More than once, they saved each other's lives.
More than once, they nearly killed each other.
Most of their duels began the same way.
Salazar would decide someone deserved to die.
Godric would disagree.
Neither would yield.
Sometimes Godric emerged victorious.
Sometimes Salazar did.
Most often, however...
The duel ended in a draw.
For even when Salazar gained the upper hand, Godric possessed the infuriating habit of placing himself directly between Salazar's wand and its intended target.
Slowly...
Almost imperceptibly...
Salazar began changing.
Not all at once.
Not because he abandoned his beliefs.
But because, for perhaps the first time since leaving the marshes, someone continuously challenged them.
His vengeance became measured instead of indiscriminate.
His judgment became more deliberate.
Though he remained ruthless toward those who preyed upon magical folk, he no longer condemned everyone around them without pause.
Godric, too, changed.
Travelling beside Salazar opened his eyes to horrors he had never imagined.
Hidden magical settlements living in fear.
Children taught never to reveal their gifts.
Entire families forced to abandon their homes after being discovered.
He began to understand why Salazar viewed the world as he did.
He simply refused to believe that hatred was the only answer.
While two unlikely companions slowly crossed Britain together...
Fate was weaving another thread.
In a bustling market town, Helga Hufflepuff found work at a small roadside inn, delighting travellers with her cooking while learning every recipe the establishment had to offer.
Among its regular patrons was a young witch who spent her days buried beneath stacks of books borrowed from the town's magical archives.
Her name was Rowena Ravenclaw.
At first, their conversations were brief.
A question about an unfamiliar herb.
A discussion about regional customs.
An observation regarding magical theory.
Days turned into weeks.
Conversations became meals shared together.
Meals became friendship.
When they eventually discovered that both intended to continue travelling across Britain in search of knowledge, neither saw a reason to journey alone.
And so...
The second pair was formed.
Some time passed after these events.
Godric and Salazar continued travelling across Britain, their destination changing with every rumour of strange happenings or magical settlements in need of aid.
One afternoon, the two were riding along a forest road when shouting echoed through the trees.
Godric looked toward the sound.
"...Do you hear that?"
Salazar had already turned his horse.
"I do."
Moments later, two witches burst onto the road ahead of them.
Behind them came nearly a hundred armed men.
Swordsmen.
Archers.
Even a handful of mounted riders.
Godric instinctively reached for his sword.
Salazar's hand rested upon his wand.
Yet what caught both of their attention wasn't the pursuing army.
It was the two witches.
Unlike the frightened witches and wizards they had rescued countless times before...
These two weren't panicking.
If anything...
They seemed mildly annoyed.
"Helga!" shouted the taller witch as she sent a stunning spell behind her without even looking.
"Why did you have to pick the largest Muggle town in the region?"
Her companion ducked beneath a volley of arrows before replying just as loudly.
"I only wanted to learn a few new recipes!"
Another arrow flew toward them.
The shorter witch lazily flicked her wand.
The arrow transformed into a bouquet of flowers before landing harmlessly on the ground.
"Then why," she continued, "did you cast magic in the middle of the marketplace?"
The other witch looked genuinely offended.
"You know I don't like going into Muggle towns."
"I panicked."
"It was instinct."
"Your instincts are terrible."
"They've kept me alive."
"They've also got a hundred people chasing us!"
Still arguing, the two witches sprinted directly past Godric and Salazar.
Magic continuously flowed around their bodies, strengthening their legs and keeping exhaustion at bay as they ran.
Neither seemed particularly concerned by the army behind them.
Godric slowly turned to watch them run down the road.
Salazar did the same.
The two exchanged a glance.
Then simultaneously shrugged.
Without saying a word, they climbed down from their horses.
Salazar calmly drew his wand.
Godric unsheathed his sword before drawing his own wand with his free hand.
If the army insisted on passing...
They would have to pass through them first.
Several yards ahead, Helga risked a glance over her shoulder.
"Rowena..."
"They stopped."
Rowena also looked back.
She blinked.
"...Are they idiots?"
"They have two perfectly healthy horses."
"They could simply ride away."
"What a waste."
Though she said that...
Neither witch continued running.
Instead, both slowed to a halt.
After exchanging a brief look, they turned around and walked back toward the two strangers preparing to face an army.
Helga smiled warmly.
"I don't think we can just leave them."
Rowena sighed.
"I suppose not."
She adjusted her grip on her wand.
"If they're foolish enough to stand against a hundred men..."
"...someone ought to make sure they survive."
And so...
Four strangers stood together upon a lonely road.
Two pairs who had never met.
Each believing they were about to save the others.
It was the first meeting of the four founders of Hogwarts.