Part XI: A Jarring Transition

"You did what?!" Godric roared as Salazar flinched. Godric wasn't being violent, but for the second tallest Founder who was not too far below two meters tall, anger from him was frightening to everyone, well, except Helga who was even taller and more powerful than the mighty lion.

"I may have time travelled, a bit," Salazar mumbled as he crossed back from the drink shelf to the armchair set up in Godric's office.

"A bit?, Sal, it's been four years since you and Rowena disappeared into your fucking laboratory and then you never fucking came back!" Helga rasped out.

"I'm never going to stop being sorry," Salazar whispered. His previous mirth erased. "To you especially," he said, addressing the short Welsh woman in indigo leaning against the book case. "If I know you at all, you've blamed yourself all these years."

Rowena briefly locked eyes with the other three founders before letting out a hollow scoff. "Even your miraculous return doesn't pardon my failings. The device, the time turner, had a faulty rune. My faulty rune. No, don't give me that look, any of you!" Rowena shouted. The hand holding her goblet of wine was trembling dangerously.

"Look, let's all rest on this. It's the middle of the summer, and a holy day tomorrow to boot. We can all afford to sleep late tomorrow. We will address everything," Helga said as she pointedly made eye contact with her three compatriots, "over a midday meal.

Rowena grunted her assent and was the first to leave Godric's office. The three watched her go, all of them sharing a sigh.

"You didn't," Salazar started, before working out the phrasing of his question in his head. "You didn't blame Rowena for," Godric made to stand up in righteous indignation, but was firmly sat back down by Helga's firm hand reaching across his desk and landing on Godric's shoulder.

"All will be discussed Tomorrow," Helga basically growled.

With that, she steered Salazar out of Godric's office and down the several flights of stairs. When they were finally alone in their suite, Salazar stilled suddenly.

"Sal, are you alright?" Helga inquired tenderly, looking down at her beloved, who was lost in thought.

"You didn't blame Rowena, please tell me you didn't add to her burden of false guilt," Salazar spoke in a rush before Helga could cut him off.

As much as Helga may have wanted to table this detail, she knew that Salazar needed an answer. Honestly, he and Rowena just absorbed the guilt around them and took it into themselves like nobody Helga had ever met before.

"Were we angry? Yes. Were we terrified? Yes. Did we m-morn you? We did." Helga let out a ragged breath. "But if we were to lay any sort of blame at Rowena's feet, Godric and I must have blamed you equally. And nobody wanted to do that, so no. No we did not add to Rowena's guilt. She did that herself, as assuredly as you would do if your positions were reversed." Salazar nodded.

"I'm so sorry Helga. I hurt you all. Intent be damned, I missed four years of your life, and I hurt you. I don't think it's possible to forgive me, but I'll–,"

Helga silenced Salazar's guilt-laden rant with her lips. Cupping his chin upwards, she continued the escalating intimacy until they were both nearly panting, standing there in the midst of Helga's laundry piles. "I'll always forgive you. And if you're still in doubt, I know of a way to make perfectly clear how forgiven you are," she said as she brushed his hardening manhood in a way that she doubtless thought was subtle. It was not.

But Salazar loved her all the more for her adorable awkwardness. "Alright, my radiantly blushing Hufflepuff," he whispered as he cheekily pecked her cleavage.

"Dammit Salazar, your pet names are still so strange." Helga mumbled affectionately as Salazar cheekily backed up to their bed, pulling her along with him.

"I know," he smirked as he casually lifted her blouse over her head.

She started laughing, she snorted as her laugher grew. She brought her forehead down to meet his as she gently began unbuttoning his night shirt. Salazar frowned as he noticed tears making their way down Helga's freckled cheeks.

He gently brought them down to the bed, so that she was partly on top of him. Perhaps tonight wasn't a night for lust after all. For him, it had been mere hours since he had been in the arms of his beloved. For Helga, it had been far too long.

He wandlessly extinguished the candles in the room, laying Helga's head into the crook of his neck as all the emotions surrounding his return came out. He'd never admit to Helga that her desperate grip around him was uncomfortably tight. Salazar just breathed in the moment, having never felt more loved in his life.