#14 Round Two

'Enter,' Headmaster Rickard said. He awaited his company to reveal themself, and was surprised to find a small first year to be behind such a forceful knock. 'Back again, Vairea? And on Christmas, too. I trust you're enjoying your holidays?'

He gave her a curious glance, though paused to mark a page of his leather-bound book. She couldn't make out the cover, but it seemed rather old. Rickard's desk was less busy than her last visit, either because the holidays were a time when even the Headmaster could relax, or it was intentional.

'Now then, this must be important if you're here on a day such as this,' he continued, though was unreadable in terms of if he was displeased by the interruption or not. 'How may I help you?'

Rickard grunted in acknowledgement of the festive day, but didn't return the greeting. It matched well with the fact there were zero decorations or holidays cheer in his office. 

Though initially surprised by her request, Rickard simply nodded and indicated to the crate of books she'd worked on previously. Saoirse knew how it worked, so he didn't bother repeating himself. He checked some notes on his desk before he forgot.

'I can't promise peace and quiet, but you're welcome to sort them until dinner,' he said, busy with his previous task. Or whenever she was done, but that was a given. Rickard didn't have much to add, so acted as if she wasn't there. Saoirse wanted some time to herself and he didn't see any reason to begrudge her it.

As with before, the Sorting Hat was still sat atop a shelf within her line of sight. 

The Sorting Hat had watched her work. Being a hat, however enchanted, there wasn't a whole lot of expression to be read -- yet Saoirse still got a sense of amusement, as if perhaps it knew exactly why she was there on Christmas Day rather than somewhere else in the castle.

It didn't comment on her words, merely awaited whichever questions she was there to ask it.

'Yes?' the hat asked. 'What's the bee in your bonnet?' It awaited her questions regarding the song, but didn't so much of comment about the Sacred Four. A factor which was undeniably deliberate, if by nothing else than the intensity of its "look".

Curious as it may be, the hat wasn't about to make things easy on Saoirse. She'd have to work for her answers, being more specific and holding up the main end of the discussion. Headmaster Rickard continued reading in the background, unaware of the conversation or not caring.

The folds of the hat's "face" turned into a frown at her suggestions, rather offended that those were what she deemed most likely based on what she knew. Which was, evidentially, not an accurate education -- granted, it happened over the thousand years ago.

'Oh, if they could hear these tangled tales now...' the hat said, disappointed. 'I'm not sure this is a story I can be the one to tell in its entirety. Or anyone could. It really ought to be lived -- to be experienced and understood by their legacies.'

It studied her for a moment.

'The founders shared many stories during and of their time at Hogwarts, and had just as many secrets after, yet a great many more were never told -- intended for those worthy of such,' it said, having much more to say this time around, as if it could sense she wasn't particularly impressed yet. 'I suppose they thought it wouldn't take a thousand years to understand. Perhaps they left enough behind for you. Their legacies shall always find a way.'

Its tone was contemplative yet important, as if imparting something on Soairse that she needed to hear every word of.

'You are the legacy of Godric Gryffindor, no more nor less than that of the others,' it said. 'The cause of their parting is not nearly as relevant as who they were before it. The magic within them, in me, and in you -- it all ties together, nurtured and woven throughout the castle itself.'

It watched her again. She'd been here before, and Saoirse came back. The hat almost smiled at that. Yes, something brought her back here, more than mere curiosity. It could see it so clearly now.

'You're not the first to come seeking, you know,' it said carefully. 'Many others have tried to devise the meaning and uncover the secret knowledge or magic of their founders but... no, they never did find the founding artefacts.'

Rickard narrowed his eyes at the door and its unusual knock. He waved his hand, and the swung swung open to reveal the Gryffindor standing there. He gave her an unimpressed look, though his expression was rather difficult to read. After four years of having Dumbledore as her headmaster, perhaps it was simply that Sarah was still getting used to the new man in charge?

Or was he always that unreadable?

'Yes?' he asked, pausing his reading. 'May I help you, Albright?' Rickard sighed, wondering why the theatrics. He glanced over at Saorise, confirming she wasn't involved and simply worked away at her task. Things seemed fine there, so he focused on the newcomer.

Saoirse listened to the Hat's tale. At first, she worried if she had asked the wrong question. She had considered that she'd focused on the wrong part of the song. It was difficult to tell what was most important. But as the Hat continued speaking, her mind started to turn over the details. Had Hogwarts' founders left something behind for their students? And somehow it mattered more who they were before becoming founders than after.

Saoirse did not pay attention to most history, especially Hogwarts history. She knew the founders' names, but not much else. What was Godric Gryffindor before he became a founder? What did wizards even do in the 11th century? Probably the same things they did now, considering wizard technology had stopped advancing after the invention of the wheel. Was there some kind of wizarding law against inventions made after the fall of the Roman Empire?

Saoirse was starting to get off-topic in her own head, and her distracted thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like someone attacking the door. She stood on her tiptoes to peer over the shelves as it swung open to reveal an older Gryffindor student. Saoirse knew her name was Sarah from seeing her in the common room, but didn't know her well.

Sarah immediately launched into questioning about that day's Daily Prophet, not seeming to realize that Saoirse was there. Saoirse lowered her head so that she was still behind the shelves. This was obviously a private conversation, and she was just standing here. Should she announce herself? Pretend she wasn't there? Maybe if she lay flat, Sarah wouldn't see her.

Saoirse, too, had seen the Daily Prophet about the attempted murder of hundreds of Muggles. Saoirse had lived a comfortable life far from most crime, but had heard so many stories of such travesties that it was difficult to think of them as anything more than a statistic. She knew her father was watched over by her grandparents, as well. The Lammermoors had enemies, and her grandparents knew that keeping Nateo happy and safe made it less likely for Saoirse to run back to Oceania.

But still, it hadn't actually occurred to her that people here would have been directly affected by the attacks. It made her feel guilty. Saoirse turned around, frowning, and came face to face with the Hat again. It was giving her what seemed like a smile, like when her father was proud she had accomplished something. The almost-expression took her aback, especially when she realized it had been waiting for a response. Right. That conversation was none of her business anyway.

"Uh, sorry. Got distracted." Her voice was a whisper. "So the founders left secrets behind? Because Godric Gryffindor 'led the way', does that mean the Gryffindor legacy must be found first? Or something." She scrunched up her face in thought. "Help me out here. You know I'm no good at riddles, or else you would have put me in Ravenclaw."