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Why He Left	By : PurpleOwl Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6078 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own in anyway or form the characters nor the world of Harry Potter, they belong to the author who has created them, nor am I making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Why He Left
- 2-What was left
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- 2
Disclaimer: I do not own in anyway or form the characters nor the world of Harry Potter, they belong to the author who has created them.

Author's note: This story is a one-shot. It opens the door to more but I have, at this point in time, no intention of pursuing it. Feel free to tell me what you think!

Warnings: All should be warned that I am dyslexic and that English is not my first language. Should my many mistakes bother you I would be honoured to have you as a proof reader.

Summary: The main reason he left was not a fight about the place of muggleborns and halfbloods in the school. But it is all history would ever remember of him.

Why He Left

It was a rainy and dark day of the current age of 954 when the fight between the lovers broke and the love that united them exploded into hate. The slighter but usually closed off man had been infernal of late. Always angry and always nagging about the real place muggleborns and halfbloods should hold at Hogwarts and in the general society. His bigger and usually happier mate had had enough. Even though their fights were rarely violent in public, all the population of the school knew were their different opinions on whom should study magic and whom should not. The real reason of their rift was far from it. Gryffindor would not break his family’s long planned arranged marriage for the sake of someone with different ideals than he. Even less for someone with lower status than a descendant of Morgana would bring his line.

They went from sharing a room on the ground floor to Salazar storming out and moving to the dungeons and not being seen for half a week. Godric was heard left and right saying the man had lost touch with sanity.

Upon his mistimed return to reality, with an apology and a good explanation on the tip of his tongue, the Parselmouth erupted in anger and curses hearing the insults to his name. His attack was so vicious it left his red and gold draped co-founder unconscious for a month.

Slytherin use that time to brood and plan. In secret, he went to the chamber of secrets every days and closed off one area at a time. First his potion lab with as many preservation spells he could think of and create in the short lapse of time. Then the library, sealing it and emptying it of air. The following room, where he had slept once in a blue moon in the previous years, was closed off with a simple Parseltongue sentence. A phrase he made sure to teach his portrait hidden in the bowel of the school dungeons with instruction to only tell his true heir.

His beloved basilisk, already a full twenty two feet long, was left under a sleeping stone like spell which would freeze the beast in time. He made sure that any Parselmouth relative of his could awaken his pet. He did not want his friend to be left in a state of rest for eternity. It left him sad to leave the snake behind. Sadder even than leaving Gryffindor and the school did. Sadder than abandoning his life's work as a renown potion master and all the gathered ingredients that might pass their prime before someone of worth found them.

Everything was ready the day his used-to-be lover reintegrated public life outside of the infirmary. The man thought himself safe to turn his back on Slytherin. Mostly thinking the shorter man had expelled all his anger in his absence and that only resentment would remain. He should have expected more. After all, revenge was Salazar's middle name.

The incantation was long and complex, a mix of dark and black magic, of Latin and Parseltongue. It required no wand movement but a lot of concentration and a need to obtain the desired result and not just concentration. He had recited the spell again and again and again. Until it became second nature; until he could recite it without flaws no matter what else he was doing. Until he knew without doubt he could cast it voicelessly. Which made it even harder because the two minutes chanting would have alerted the other three founders of his less than pure intentions.

He knew the price for the spell would be great and he was willing to pay it to repay his damaged pride and the cheating of his trust.

The spell hit as it should have. The olive green light touched his target on it's side and made the man yell out his pain. A pain that burned all that was so dear to the victim. It started with Gryffindor's precious hair falling in fistfuls, line etched themselves around the vain man's face, his back curved him forward and skin discolouration appeared here and there all over his body. Gone were the good looks he had been known for. But worse was the pain in his guts where the spell was really aimed at. The screams grew louder and more desperate each second that robbed the man of any chances he had at reproducing with the whore he had decided to marry. To marry and forsake the man that loved him more than anything.

That is where the caster noticed something wrong. Absent was the feeling of weakness he should have felt and the pain he was expecting. He had no idea what had gone on and what the price had taken from him but he had no time to dwell on it. He raised with as much dignity as he could from his seat and left Hogwarts never to be seen again.

The green eyed man moved to muggle London and changed his name to Evans, hiding for the remaining 5 months of his unwanted pregnancy. It was at the birth of the child that he knew what had gone wrong. Eirik Hákon Evans was born without magic. Not even a squib who had a weakened magic core. His son was a mortal. He would live and die without magic, live and die of infection and other ailments because potions would be useless on him, live and die before his father. The spell really understood what was most precious to those it hurt.
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Why He Left