Dearest Godric,
Your astonishment would undoubtedly know no bounds if you were to receive such an address from me now. This only serves to show how both times and tides have changed - and the changes were, alas, not for the better. However, I can still recall letters with such addresses when we were neither as aged as we are now, nor as burdened with the responsibilities and truths of where our lives had led us.
You can rest assured, however, that you will not be receiving this letter. In truth, I intend to dispose of the manuscript immediately after concluding it. The human mind is truly a strange thing, Godric, old friend. There is no end to the foolishness it will delve into, for no other reason than chasing the whim of an old man eager to speak to his best friend.
Yet another truth that must be admitted is that we do not share the views and the affection we used to. Indeed, this truth is the plainest and simplest of all, however sad it may be - a truth that would leave one empty and lonely, craving the company of others, yet highly reluctant to ask, or even express the wish for it.
To continue my tale - I have decided to leave our school, our Hogwarts, for the simple reason that it ceased being truly ours. A school that would merit the description of 'ours', my friend, would present a feeling of togetherness, a form of united leadership, and evidence of mutual consent. Yet, sadly, I have been left out of all the decisions that were meant to be 'ours' as well. Truth be told, I would even go as far as to say that the school is entirely yours now, as Rowena (smitten as she is, bless her) caters on your every whim and fancy, while it would be against the nature of the fair Helga to launch into an argument of any sort.
But let me warn you once again, dear Godric, as a friend - your closest friend once - please give more thought to that which you strive to introduce at Hogwarts.
Do you honestly feel that diluting the precious gift of magic – a gift that had been entrusted to us alone – by including Muggle-born students is a good way to teach and promote our arts? While I will be among the first to admit the vast possibilities for experimentation and research in our magic, some boundaries were possibly meant to be left uncharted. Give it more thought, my friend. If you continue to pursue this line of methods (which, I cannot help but sense you doing out of spite for me rather than to satisfy your own ambition), the day will soon come when these Muggle-born will possess more magic than we, its actual and rightful owners, do. Do you truly want our world, which has been all the more happy for our seclusion, to come to that?
It amazes me sometimes that you fail to see the lust in the eyes of these children when they are first shown magic. Surely you have noticed how quickly they learn compared to the common wizarding child? How hungry for knowledge they are?
I am quite sure that you will pay my argument no heed, though. Whether the reason for this is the doubtfulness of its validity or simply the fact that it is I arguing the question, I will not be able to tell, for you have never listened at countless other times when I have tried to explain.
This, my friend, brings me back to my earlier words of my departure. You require me at Hogwarts no longer, for it has never been plainer than it is now - you are perfectly ready to take over the school on your own, and who am I to stand in your way? I do not think that being the former best friend of the mighty Godric Gryffindor can qualify as a valid reason.
Before I leave, however, I would like to do one last service to our... to this school, the building that started out as our common dream. Though I may perish, and my bones may become one with the earth in a thousand years, I will leave protection for this place that we built together.
Do you recall Madam Bindiya, who paid us a visit from East India a few months ago? I daresay you do, as dear Rowena nearly had a fit over the Madam’s chambers being next to mine. No doubt she thought it inappropriate and myself ungentlemanly.
I believe Rowena would be happy to know that the Madam was not being ignorant or uncourteous. The true reason why our guest only ever spoke to me was this - the only language she could communicate in was Parseltongue. She was not a common witch, either.
Do you remember me telling you once about the fascinating legends and customs, as well as the worship rituals of the Snake Goddesses of India? It is likely that you do not, as you were much more interested in goblin-wrought weaponry at the time, but you can probably perceive the direction I am going in, my friend.
It happened so that Madam Bindiya was an Ikchadhari Nagin, a snake of origin who, through intense meditation and prayer, was granted the gift of shape-shifting into a human being, as well as a precious gem simply brimming with magical and medicinal properties. Needless to say, she chose the form of a female, and a very pleasing one at that.
It was mostly in gratitude to her that I was able to concoct this plan. For before her departure she presented me with two items - one of untold value, the other seemingly of no value whatsoever.
The first of the items she gave me was the magical gem that had been so difficult to obtain and which her people produce on a decadal basis. This gem, blessed by her gods, is the green of a like I have never encountered before and harbors innumerable magical and medicinal qualities.
The other item the good lady entrusted me with was a chicken’s egg. The egg is now hatched, yet the creature that had come out of it was no chicken. I have contained it in the chambers made specifically for that purpose, and there it will remain - until it is needed for the school's protection.
For reasons of both your safety and that of the students, I have hidden the chambers away and locked them, using the diamond entrusted to me. The only ones who can open the chamber safely as of this day are I and my true heir. My branch of Serpentine magic is required in order to do so.
Another of the gem's powers is one to control the guardian locked within the secret chamber, keeping it in a slumber until it is summoned.
I believe that I should cease writing now, as you have been presented with all of the vital information. I do not harbor a desire to bid you farewell, as that would make matters altogether too final. For how does one say farewell to forty years of friendship, twenty of arguments and ten of outright despise?
I see no other alternative, unfortunately. However, I sometimes do wonder as to what happened to the two young and foolish men who used to sit under a beech tree and talk of how they would change the world one day… together. They may have been foolish, but sometimes I find myself thinking wistfully that I would be prepared to give all of my age-acquired wisdom for a single shred of their youthful innocence.
Always yours,
Salazar
