A Lost Tale by a_bees_buzz
Summary: Every great work of history is devised and edited with an audience in mind. Whilst there is a great deal to learn from the contents of ‘Hogwarts: A History’, there is even more that was lost when certain portions were excised by overzealous Headmasters, concerned that the school’s reputation not be blemished by some of the less pleasant events in its past. Sometimes, however, texts that were thought to be lost are rediscovered and ancient tales retold.
Categories: Drama Characters: Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin
Genres: General
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 2522 Read: 734 Published: 08/30/2007 Updated: 08/30/2007

1. A Lost Tale by a_bees_buzz

A Lost Tale by a_bees_buzz
Prompt: History of Magic




Ronald Weasley swaggered into number twelve, Grimmauld Place with squarer shoulders and a straighter neck than had been seen on the young man in months. He was nearly even smiling.

“Did you bring it?” Charlie asked as Ron walked past him towards the staircase down to the cellar where the Potions lab was set up.

At that, he actually did smile. “What do ya think she’ll say?”

“She’ll be over the moon, mate. You know that.”

“Yeah. I do. You sure you don’t want to be there when she gets it?”

“Love to, but I can’t. I’m on my way out, got another assignment.”

Ron had spent a long, backbreaking night and day at Malfoy Manor. They had taken the house in a bitterly fought skirmish the day before and the members of the Order of the Phoenix had wasted no time in scouring the place for useful texts or potential Horcruxes before the Ministry could take over and claim rights to everything on the property. Nothing that came under Ministry control had ever been released back to the Order of the Phoenix, even though it was their fighters who had taken most of the significant sites.

From Ron’s point of view, the best find of the day was something he had found in the wee hours of the morning in a hidden annex off the library. As wearing as his own work was, Hermione was even more run-down. She had taken over the Potions lab and had barely left in weeks as the constant fighting left them perpetually short on potions of all kinds. It was her work, and that of Poppy Pomfrey, that kept the rest of them functional. He was incredibly pleased to have found something that might put a smile on her pale, hollowed face and lessen the furrows that had established permanent residence on her brow.

“Hermione? Can you take a break, just for a minute? I got something to show you.”

“In a moment,” she replied wearily. “Can you hand me that asphodel powder? In the blue bottle on the shelf by the door.”

He waited patiently despite his own exhaustion, watching until she finally pushed back from the lab bench and looked up at him.

“That will need to come to a boil, so I have a couple of minutes. What is it?”

“I was just wondering if you’d ever seen one of these before.” He grinned as he handed her the book.

“Hogwarts: A History?” She managed to roll her eyes. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Look again.”

She did. Her eyes stopped rolling and widened in astonishment instead. “Ron! This is a first edition! How is this possible? There aren’t any first editions. Anywhere. There hasn’t even been a record of a first edition in centuries. Where did you find this?”

Ron managed another smile. It was the first time in weeks that she’d shown any sign of enthusiasm for anything. “Malfoy Manor. And, erm, we didn’t list it on the inventory. We all agreed it was better not to let the Ministry know.”

“Do you think I could have it for a few days? I would love to get a look at it. There must be all kinds of fascinating information in here,” she whispered as she reverently stroked the age-worn leather binding.

“Actually, we took a vote and decided you should keep it. Kind of a thank you from all of us for keeping us going.”



“Harry. Ron. You’ve got to see this!” There had finally been a let-up in the fighting. A soon as she was rested, Hermione had begun to peruse her gift. For her friends’ sake, she had charmed the text to appear in modern English, rather than the archaic form she had been reading.


It is well known that Salazar Slytherin bore a deep loathing for Muggle-borns. What is, perhaps, less well known is that each of the founders had a prejudice of their own.

Rowena Ravenclaw, with her love of talent and intellect and order, could not abide the presence of Squibs. To her, they were deformed aberrations, mistakenly created by the chaotic forces of an irrational natural world. Childless herself, she saw all romantic and physical relationships as unnecessary distractions from higher functions. Breeding, if it was to be tolerated, should occur solely for the purpose of creating higher forms of life. To Ravenclaw, Squibs were distasteful reminders of the fact that even the greatest and purest minds were housed within the weaknesses of the human form.

Helga Hufflepuff fought tenaciously for unity and harmony within the school, to the extent of expelling all those who threatened her vision. Her ire fell upon the bullies – frightened, insecure children whose unfeeling parents had taught them with their fists and birch rods to hurt others before they were hurt themselves. There was neither compassion nor guidance to be found at Hogwarts for those poor, tormented souls.

Godric Gryffindor believed in fighting for what was right, no matter the cost. Like so many high-minded individuals, his vision of what was right was both narrow and rigid, allowing for neither ambiguity nor compromise. Those who opposed his vision for the school and for the students were swept aside by his righteous angers.

With four such strong personalities and four such intense sets of prejudices, it was inevitable that they would clash.

In the early years, whilst the founders were focused on the nearly overwhelming tasks of raising the castle walls, organising the course of studies, hiring teachers and setting the standards for the new school, their differences seemed minor in contrast to the greatness of their shared endeavour. It was only later, when the life of The Hogwarts School for Witches and Wizards settled into a regular rhythm, that problems began to emerge.

The issue over which the greatest witches and wizards of their age parted ways was the most mundane of matters: housekeeping. In its first years, Hogwarts employed a large number of Muggle-born servants, of the same types as can be found in the home of any wizarding family of means. Like household servants, they were taught no more than the spells and charms needed for their duties.


“Lucky for you we don’t do that anymore, Hermione. You’re pathetic at household charms.”

“Yes, Ron. That’s the problem I would have had.” A rested Hermione was, as often as not, a sarcastic Hermione. “Don’t you get it? Muggle-borns were practically slaves. They weren’t allowed to do anything but household work. I haven’t found a text with a full description, but there are lots of hints. Every mention of Muggle-borns is about the difficulty of making sure they stay in their place.”

“I can see why someone would want to cut that out. It makes all the founders sound as prejudiced as Death Eaters,” said Harry.

“Exactly. Even the ones who wanted Muggle-borns at Hogwarts only wanted them there as servants. Not as students. Once Muggle-borns started learning proper magic, whoever was headmaster would not have wanted to draw attention to the way they’d been treated before. Over time, people forgot the parts of the story that had been removed.”

“What about the house-elves?” Harry asked. “Where do they come in?”

“Keep reading. You’ll see.”


In time, Salazar Slytherin came to see the presence of Muggle-borns as a problem. A school, after all, serves a different function from a home. The servants of Hogwarts had begun to utilise the school library and were sometimes caught listening in on classes. Given access to the secret arts of magic, Salazar feared, the Muggle-borns might forget their places and aspire to become full-fledged wizards and witches.

Slytherin saw in the perennial Squib controversy a solution to his problem. Even amongst his closest associates were some who had been forced to endure the distress of seeing their sadly talentless offspring lost to them forever, reduced to lives of servitude to Muggles. If Squibs could be employed at Hogwarts, they need not be Obliviated and could continue to exist within their own world.

Ravenclaw was horrified at the thought that the hallowed halls of her cherished institution would be sullied by the clumsy and the inept. She argued that non-magical methods of housekeeping would interfere with the smooth running of the school, with wet floors and mops in hallways and servants running in and out of the Great Hall during meals. Furthermore, how could they properly impart the vital importance of blood-purity and the sacred nature of the family lineage to children studying in a school where their own flesh and blood were employed as menials?

Salazar Slytherin could not bear to see his beloved school become a source of friction, either from uppity Muggle-borns attempting to emulate their betters or from true wizards and witches, distressed at being forced to interact with Squibs on a daily basis. He set out to find a third way, a source of labour that would neither infect the ranks of magical society with inferior blood lines nor upset the sensibilities of the noble witches and wizards who studied there.

Gathering the most advanced students of his house, he set them to the task of devising a solution to this quandary. Delving deeply into the Dark Arts, they devised a spell that would bind its victims and their offspring for ten generations, compelling them to obedience above all other desires and tying their very spirits to the well-being of those they served. Then began the search for creatures fitted for the task. In the Northern Lands of nightless summers, Salazar found what he was seeking. A race of creatures with great powers of creation and craft but utterly without guile or ambition. It was little effort to trick them into gathering for a celebration of friendship and even less to entrap the helpless creatures and cast the spell upon them.

Few escaped, only those too old or young to attend the feast or too busy with the work they performed for the wizarding population across the dark waters that some call Mare Balticum. They took refuge in the mountains of the far North, where neither Muggle nor Wizard ever went. And so, the race of Elves was divided between the house-elves, fated ever after to serve men, and the free elves, who dwelled in the dark places under the mountains, hiding from the world of men and wizards, never forgetting their lost cousins.


“So you were right all along. The house-elves really are slaves,” said Harry.

“You really do know it all,” joked Ron.

“Yes. I mean no.” She glared at Ron. “I don’t know it all, not even close, but I was right about the house-elves. The thing is, I was also wrong. They can’t be freed, not as long as the spell lasts. Have a look; it’s all there in the book.”


If Slytherin had hoped that his actions would heal the divisions between the founders, he was to be cruelly disillusioned. His colleagues’ disgust over the fact that he had enslaved innocent creatures was exceeded only by their horror that he had involved students in the practice of such dangerous Dark Magic. It was then that Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor determined that the students of Hogwarts would study only the Defence Against the Dark Arts and not the Arts themselves.

Slytherin was enraged. He had, by dint of great effort and a wondrous working of new magic, solved their great dilemma and yet, instead of being hailed for his accomplishment, his own field of study was being cast out of the very school he had helped to found.

As was her wont, Hufflepuff attempted to smooth the waters and make peace among the founders. Neither Ravenclaw nor Gryffindor wished to accept the products of Dark Magic into the school, but without Hufflepuff’s agreement they could not override the actions of Slytherin.

When matters seemed to be at an impasse, Gryffindor asked the critical question of what would become of the enspelled elves if they were not given a home at Hogwarts. Slytherin answered that they could not be set free. The spell had taken away their free will such that, without masters to serve, they would be incapable of caring for themselves and would starve to death. It was then that Slytherin made his fatal mistake. He smiled. At that moment, Hufflepuff saw him, not as a powerful wizard, nor even as the colleague and friend he had been for so many years, but as a brute who took pleasure in the suffering of those he considered beneath him. Without her support, Slytherin was outvoted and in the arguments that followed, Gryffindor banished him from Hogwarts forevermore. The partnership of the founders was broken.



“That’s why the house-elves don’t want clothes. That’s why they prefer to be enslaved. Because of Salazar Slytherin’s spell,” Hermione said.

“But what about Dobby?” asked Harry.

“He must be the eleventh generation. House-elves don’t reach reproductive maturity until they’re nearly a hundred, so there can’t have been any much before now. That’s why the Malfoys had so much trouble with him and how he could go against them to try to warn you about their plot against you. He’s not affected by the spell.”

“And why he’s doing so well as a free elf when Winky can’t stomach it,” Ron suggested.

Hermione nodded. “Winky must be partly free of the spell, since she’s managed to survive. Perhaps she’s only eleventh generation through one of her parents and not the other. So she can exist free, but it makes her miserable.”

“Almost makes you want to bind her to a new master.”

“No, Ron. It doesn’t…. Well, maybe. Knowing that it is more than just an attitude, that their lives really do depend on their enslavement, it does make me see the whole situation in a different light. You do realize that nearly every elf born from here on out is going to be like Dobby or Winky? In two hundred years, there won’t be any willing house-elves any more. The old pureblood families are going to have to adjust.”

“I don’t see why that should be a problem. They can afford to pay their servants the same way the old families in the rest of Europe do,” said Harry.

“Yeah, right,” Ron snorted. “Have you heard Fleur go on about their ‘servants’ lately? Ever since they formed that Squib Union they strike more often than they work.”

“Yes, but those are French Squibs,” Harry replied with a grin. “British Squibs wouldn’t behave that way.”

“Nah,” said Ron. “They’d just spend all their time down the pub stead of working.”
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