Sanctuary

It was a period of time known as the Dark Ages, a time filled with vice and death and destruction. It was a time of panic for a secret society, a state of constant fear for those labeled as “wicked.” And as Ewing Evingar watched the smoke rise up past the obscured faces of the innocent, this time two witches and a muggle, he knew that he would not be able to postpone calling together the Wizards’ Council for much longer.

Evingar was a plump man, balding at the crown, who had, since he was a boy, always had plenty to eat and little about which to worry. Now, it was quite the opposite. And the Chief Warlock was expected, in times of need, times like this, to call together his council.

When the organisation had first begun, the Council only met once every fortnight. But the circumstances of this assembly would be different. Witch hunts had caused panic throughout the wizarding world, and as the casualty count continued to rise, Evingar was urged to take action. It was for this reason that he called the Wizards’ Council into session outside of schedule. It was vital that the Council find a solution.

The assembly consisted of twelve witches and wizards seated at an aged, oblong, wooden table, with Evingar seated at the head. Sunlight danced in through the cracks in the stone walls, illuminating the grey room. And though the tone of the place was undeniably tense, there was still light conversation to create an ambiance of comfort for the men and women who were among friends.

Evingar stood up at the table’s head and cleared his throat. “There is a reason that I have called together this meeting.” He paused, wiping beads of perspiration from his forehead as he thought about the calamity of the outside world. “Due to the recent burnings of six witches and several muggles, it is—”

“Muggles are a concern of the Order of Merlin,” argued Kensey Knoyll, a wizard from Wales and one of the eldest council members. “This council’s focus must remain solely on our world, not theirs.”

As he started again, Evingar did not seem the least bit affected by the objection. “Due to these recent events, it is imperative that we, the council, agree on the resolution to prohibit underage wizards from practising the magical arts until a time when the council agrees to repeal the act.”

Two seats down, Helga Hufflepuff sat upright in her chair and, more forcefully than she had ever been before, called out, “There must be something else that you can do. Is there no other option, Ewing?”

Evingar looked with compassion at the young red-haired woman who sat before him. “Until the situation resolves itself—”

“The situation will not resolve itself!”

The outburst was shocking to many of the council members in the room. And the speaker then stood up, as if to challenge Evingar’s position on the matter. He was a burly, bearded figure, and his voice seemed to boom over all other noise, seeming much too strong for such a young man.

From Helga’s right, a well-to-do young maiden looked up from the silk of her purple gown, her dark hair making her skin look pale and her eyes look bright. “If you permit, sir,” she began, confidently, the words dancing effortlessly off of her silver tongue, “I must point out that prohibiting the use of magic will make it impossible for these young wizards to pass magic on to future generations, and thus, wizarding will inevitably die out.”

And the booming voice continued, “We must not prohibit magic but must teach them how to use it properly.”

Evingar’s jaw clenched as he took a deep breath. “If you are so bold, Godric, then let this be your undertaking. I wish no part in such a foolish scheme.”

Helga smiled at Godric, the young man dressed in red, and said, “Godric, please. I wish to help. And Rowena, as well.”

The pale-faced young woman looked up as a reflex, upon hearing her name, and hesitantly, she replied to her anxious peers, “Of course.”

“Thank you, ever so kindly, Helga,” Godric started, grinning at the two ladies. He turned to his left, to the dark, brooding man who had sat in silence for the entirety of the meeting, taking in the events around him, acting as more of a spectator than an actor. “And Salazar, good friend, I am sure that you must have a part in this.”

Then gentleman, Salazar, nodded curtly at his compatriot, a sure sign of his agreement, but did not speak.

Evingar announced, speaking the entirety of the council, “Since there is no further business to discuss, this meeting of the Wizards’ Council is henceforth closed.”

And once the witches and wizards had filed out of the room, Evingar, though addressing the other three as well, stared directly at Godric Gryffindor. “Do as you will, there is no changing my word. My act goes into effect immediately.”