Chapter 22: The Founders

Harry walked forward, continually glancing at the Sphinx to make sure it wasn’t a trick, and finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, reached the door.

Again there was a portrait on the door. Dumbledore and Fawkes were waiting for him.

“Nice work Harry, I knew you would have no trouble with the riddles.” Dumbledore said proudly.

“Now this door is locked, and the only way to get through is to give an offering of yourself. You must move this portrait out of the way, stick your hand in the hole that will be uncovered, and when they have taken what they require, you will be allowed to pass. I can not continue on with you.”

Harry without hesitation, pushed back his robes, lifted the portrait and shoved his left arm into the hole. After a moment Harry began screaming as he felt searing pain spread up his arm.

He withdrew his arm as the door slid open; the tip of his pinky finger was missing from the joint up.

Grimacing, he ripped a piece from his robe and wrapped his finger in it to try to stop the bleeding, wondering only briefly why Fawkes didn’t try to cry on it.

Stepping through the doorway, still breathing heavy from the pain, Harry entered a new room.

The room was circular, and vaguely reminded him of the architecture in the Chamber of Secrets. The walls were made of stone, but lacked the dampness of the chamber.

As he entered the room, the door shut, making the area that held door indistinguishable from the rest of the wall.

Harry felt a slight weight on shoulder and looked up to see Fawkes, thankful that he at least could accompany him. After a brief nuzzle, Fawkes flew over and rested, out of the way

Harry stepped in to the middle of the room and looked around. On the walls, evenly spaced were four intricate carvings: a raven, a badger, a lion and a snake.

A bit confused, Harry realized that there were no portraits, just the carvings. “Hello. I am Harry Potter.” He said plainly after a moment.

A bright light filled the room, so bright that all he could see was white. The light disappeared as quickly as it had come, as if someone had flicked on and off a light switch.

Slowly his eyes began to readjust, and he realized that were the carvings had been now were the most ornate and beautiful portraits that he had ever seen. He looked from one to the next, wondering why these beautiful works of art where hidden in this room. It hit him like lightening that these were the Founders, and he instantly realized why they would want to be hidden away.

As he examined each of the Founders, they in turn examined him.

The first portrait he came to was Salazar Slytherin, and true to his reputation in the myths, he beheld Harry in a haughty matter. He was skinny and wiry; he had the sallow almost jaundice like skin of a person who didn’t get enough sunlight. He was sitting with his shoulders thrown forward giving his chest the appearance that it had caved in on itself. The light from the room shone off of his greasy black hair. If Harry hadn’t known better, he would think that Snape was related to this man. He realized that he didn’t know better and made a mental note to ask Dumbledore about it later.

“What’s wrong with my house?” He asked Harry disdainfully, as if he knew Harry’s conversation with the Sorting Hat.

“I hope you happy.” Harry said scowling at him as he walked on, missing the almost baffled look on the man's face.

The next portrait he came was a woman so beautiful, she took Harry’s breath away. She was a slender woman with pale white skin, deep almost slate blue eyes, and long black flowing hair that was so dark it almost appeared to have a blue-ish sheen to it. Harry took a deep breath as the woman, as if used to this reaction, gave him a soft knowing smile.

Nodding to whom he knew was Rowena Ravenclaw, he reluctantly and almost painfully tore his eyes away and moved on.

The next portrait held a woman that made you want to smile just to look at her. She was beautiful, but in a jovial kind of way, not the stark almost painful beauty of the previous woman. Although she was slender, she was a bit plumper than Rowena, and reminded him an awful lot of Molly Weasley.

He couldn’t help but to grin up at her, and she returned his grin with one of her own. She had long blond hair, in a thick plait that she had pulled over one shoulder, plump pink cheeks and a smile that was infectious.

“You must be Helga.” He said to her.

“I am.” She said giggling as he moved on.

His smile left his face however as he came to the next portrait. The man in the portrait had a gruff, rugged appearance but was none the less an immensely handsome man. He had the appearance of a man that other men aspire to be. In contrast to the other male Founder, this one had thick wavy brown hair; he stood tall, and had a full muscular chest. His very presence commanded respect. He wasn’t smiling, but his brown eyes had a pleasant glow to them. Harry stared in open mouthed awe at this man, fighting the urge to bow before him.

“Godric Gryffindor.” He said in a tone of almost adoration.

“At your service.” The man said giving Harry a slight bow of the head. “I hear you pulled my sword out of the Sorting Hat.” The man said patting the ornate sword buckled to his belt.”

“Yeah, to kill my pet!” Salazar interrupted, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Your ‘pet’ killed a student, and petrified several more!” Harry exclaimed angrily.

“Now, now, let’s not quarrel.” Rowena said in a beautifully soft voice.

“Her voice is almost as beautiful as she is.” Harry thought to himself as he stared at her picture, not realizing that he had spoken aloud.

“Come, come, boy. Yes she is beautiful, but get a hold of yourself, your starting to drool.” Godric said laughing.

Shaking his head as if to clear Harry tore his eyes away from the vision of a woman and stood in the center of the room. At a nod from Godric, he and the rest of the Founders sat down, leaving Harry standing.

“So.” Began Godric, “Tell us what you know about the veil.”

“It ate my Godfather.” Harry said simply.

At a giggle from Helga, Godric, one eyebrow arched, asked, “Anything else.” He had a small smile on his face.

Scrunching up his forhead, trying to remember anything else Harry said, “It calls to you. Not directly of course, but it kind of whispers. Not so that you can hear it, but almost, and it makes you feel like you just want to step inside to see who is whispering and what they are saying.” He had a thoughtful look on his face.

He looked up and realized that the Founders were all staring at him intently, worried expressions on their faces.

“It is beginning to try to communicate, to lure people in.” Helga said a slight tremor in her voice.

“We need to ask you to do something very dangerous, and unless you promise to do this, we will not tell you how to remove your Godfather from the veil.” Rowena said solemnly

“Yes, of course.” Harry said, nodding, “I will do anything that you need me to do.”

“Wonderful!” Godric exclaimed clapping his hands once. “Now, we need you to destroy the veil. You will have to extract your Godfather, and destroy the veil at the same time. It must be perfect executed, because you can not go back and do it over if you make a mistake.”

He snapped his fingers as he said this and a piece of paper appeared out of a burst of flame and floated down to Harry.

“Memorize it. Word perfectly. You will not have time to read it as you go along.” Godric said firmly. “Have a seat, and we will walk you through it.” He said as a chair appeared behind Harry.