People thought Godric was the truly passionate one of the group, but Salazar could be too. Pacing up and down in the Great Hall, he was telling Helga of his hopes and ambitions for Slytherin House.
“What have I told you about pride?” she said, as he paused. “Pride goes hand in hand with arrogance – “
Salazar turned his sharp grey eyes on her. “I know your warnings all too well. Pride comes before a fall,” he finished.
Helga smiled easily. “But only if we let it,” she said, stepping down from the High Table. She quickly filled the space between them and gently touched his arm.
She loved her friends equally but in very different ways. To Godric she was like a mother, a best friend and a sister, all depending on the day. He made her laugh like no one else could, exasperated her endlessly and made her see the lighter side of things. Rowena, meanwhile, was her counsellor and source of advice and logic. They shared gossip and goblets of wine, but also ideas and plans.
Salazar, though… she could not put their relationship into words. Sometimes she found herself not caring. Who needed words? She was not Rowena. Words could not resolve everything. She smiled. Sometimes it was the quiet moments that said it all.