As I followed him, I contemplated my actions that had brought me to this task. Had we not once been friends, Salazar and I? We had, the best of if I recall, but those days were by far gone. We now stood at odds over a matter I deamed of utmost importance. The matter of letting Muggleborns attend our esteemed school.

Rowena and Helga had both agreed that those who wish to learn our craft should be allowed to do so. Salazar would hear nothing of it.

I knew of his past and could sympathize with his circumstances. He had once told me the story of how a mob of Muggles had overtaken his father, snapped his wand, and hung him. Salazar had been merely eight years old and had been forced to watch. It had maimed him within his heart and soul.

"Show yourselves! If you do not, I will seek you out and you will pay for your cowardice!"

Damn, he had heard me. I had no other option than to confront him now. It was not the time of my choosing, but it would work.

"Salazar, it is I, Godric Gryffindor. I mean you no harm. I merely wish a word."

"I have no time for Blood Traitors, Gryffindor. Be gone before I have need to punish you," he snarled with his wand at the ready, his green eyes glinting maliciously.

"As I said, I merely wish to speak with you. Rowena, Helga, and I wish for your return to Hogwarts. We were once friends, were we not? Let us lay aside our differences and our hate, and return to those happier days."

"Never! Not as long as your lot continues the education of the Mudbloods!"

The contempt in his voice and the hatred it inflected was proof enough for me that I would never be able to change this man's opinion. Some people were ignorant of the strife of others and Salazar Slytherin was one of them. You can never teach them that the sins of the fathers should not bear punishment of the sons. Seeds of hatred, however shallow, run deep.