Godric guided Raine gently, his eyes constantly scanning the corridors for potential threats—professors, nosy students, or worse, Lucian Greymark, the ever-watchful Head Prefect. The weight of his bag, and the longsword strapped to it, pressed heavily against his shoulder, but he barely noticed as his focus stayed on getting Raine somewhere safe.
"We need somewhere safe," he muttered. "Somewhere quiet. Somewhere no one will find us."
"Maybe the Slave Quarters?" Raine suggested, her voice faint, still trembling.
Godric shook his head. "No, too far, and there are too many students out and about. We'll never make it without being seen."
As if summoned by his need, a door materialized in the wall beside them, shimmering faintly as though catching an invisible light. Godric stopped in his tracks, staring at the familiar entrance. His lips curled into a small, almost incredulous smile.
"Well, would you look at that," he murmured, gripping the brass handle and pulling it open to reveal a cozy, warmly lit room within. "Salazar was right. It really does appear when students are in need of it."
He gently ushered Raine inside, closing the door behind them with a reassuring click. She glanced around the room; her golden eyes wide with wonder as she clutched the robe tighter around her frame.
"I… I've never seen this place before," she whispered.
The room reacted almost instantly, the soft grinding of bricks and creaking of wood filling the air as its magic came to life. The walls shifted and rearranged themselves, bricks dissolving into earthy textures while the ceiling above faded into a vast starry expanse. A silvery moon cast its glow, bathing the space in serene light. Beneath their feet, the tiled floor transformed into a surface of rippling lake water, clear and cool, while planks of wood assembled themselves into an all-too-familiar pavilion, mirroring the one by the real Cardigan Lake.
The gentle hum of crickets filled the air, blending with the soft rustling of wind that kissed their cheeks. Tiny glowing fireflies flickered across the water's surface, their light dancing like tiny stars come to earth.
Raine's golden eyes widened in awe, her ears twitching with delight. "This… this is amazing!" she breathed, turning in slow circles to take it all in. "How… how is this possible? It's like we're actually outside."
Godric watched her with a soft smile, the tension in his chest loosening just a little. "It's the Room of Requirement," he explained. "It doesn't just give you what you need—it gives you what you truly wish for."
He gestured around them. "And this… this is what you needed, Raine. A place of peace. Somewhere you feel safe."
Her gaze lingered on the fireflies and the moonlit water, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's perfect," she whispered, clutching the robe tighter around her. For the first time in days, a genuine smile broke across her face.
They made their way to the pavilion, settling onto the familiar wooden benches. The room seemed to anticipate their needs as a fire pit materialized in the center, the flames crackling warmly and casting a soft glow that bathed them in comfort. The chill in the air was replaced by a cozy warmth. Raine leaned against Godric, resting her head on his shoulder, her silver hair spilling softly over him.
"Raine… I need to say this," Godric began. "I'm so sorry for how I reacted before. I didn't mean to hurt you." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just… shocked. I didn't know what to do."
Raine shook her head, her golden eyes focused on the fire. "It's not your fault, Godric," she said quietly. "I should've known better. I wasn't avoiding you because I was upset… I was embarrassed." She hesitated. "And… I couldn't stand the thought that you might hate me."
Godric turned to her, taking her hand gently in his own. "Raine, listen to me," he said firmly, his crimson eyes meeting hers. "I could never hate you. Not now, not ever."
A soft smile played on her lips, though it faded quickly. She looked down at their joined hands. "But… I also thought that you wouldn't mind. That it'd be okay."
"Wouldn't mind?" Godric tilted his head, his brows knitting in confusion. He leaned in slightly, searching her face for understanding. "What do you mean? Why would you think that?"
Raine pulled her hand away, hugging herself tightly as if trying to shield herself from invisible wounds. "This kind of thing… what happened in the bathroom…" she began. "It happens all the time."
Her words hit like a hammer to Godric's chest, but she continued, her golden eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Since I came to Excalibur, the male students have done terrible things to me. Especially the Fifth-Years." Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to go on, determined to be heard. "Over the years, it's only gotten worse."
Godric's face turned pale, his fists clenching as Raine spoke. Her trembling words painted a harrowing picture of torment and abuse, each sentence heavier than the last.
"They… they'd force themselves on me," she whispered as tears streamed freely down her face. "Sometimes they'd take me back to their dorms and keep me there until sunrise." She trembled as she tried to suppress the painful memories. "They'd pass me around like…" She stopped, her body shaking as the sheer weight of the trauma became too much.
"And…" her breath hitched, her hands clutching at the robe wrapped around her. "It's not just me," she said. "It happens to all of us."
"By Charlamagne's throne…" Godric trembled as he fought to contain the fire threatening to consume him again. "Raine… why didn't you tell anyone?"
Raine let out a bitter, hollow laugh, shaking her head. "Who would care?" she asked, her ears drooping. "Creedy would just tell me I deserved it. I'm a slave, Godric, nobody cares about me." Her golden eyes met his, raw and pleading. "Nobody cares about any of us."
Her words pierced him deeper than any blade could, igniting a storm of despair and fury within him. Without hesitation, he pulled Raine into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping protectively around her trembling frame. In that moment, the world around them seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them under the soft glow of moonlight reflected on the water.
"I care, Raine," Godric said. "I'm sorry—sorry for everything you've endured, for all the times no one was there to save you. But that ends now." His voice grew firmer, resolute. "I swear on my honor, I will be your sword. I'll protect you, no matter what it takes—even if it means standing against the whole damned world."
Raine stiffened at first, but his words broke through the walls of fear and pain she had carried for so long. Slowly, she melted into his embrace, burying her face into his chest as her tears soaked his shirt. Her tail wagged softly, a tentative flicker of hope shining through her despair. "Oh, Godric… thank you. Thank you for everything," she whispered.
They sat there for a while, wrapped in each other's warmth as the faint symphony of water lapping against the pavilion filled the silence. The weight of Godric's vow hung in the air, a promise unspoken yet felt in every beat of his heart.
"Things will change, Raine," His hand stroking her hair gently. "I swear to you, I'll make sure of it."
****
The days blended into one another as life returned to a semblance of normalcy, though Raine and Godric had grown inseparably close. Their shared lessons had become a cornerstone of their bond, and Raine's progress in reading filled Godric with a quiet, heartfelt pride. The pavilion by the lake transformed into their haven—a place where they could steal moments together when Godric wasn't consumed by his additional lessons, and Raine was free from her chores. Through it all, Godric's solemn promise hung between them, an unspoken yet powerful tether, fragile as glass yet unbreakable.
It was another brisk autumn afternoon, the kind where the sharp chill hinted at winter's inevitable approach. The air was crisp, and the fading daylight cast a golden glow over the shimmering surface of the lake. Godric reclined on the weathered bench of the pavilion, his crimson eyes gazing over the tranquil waters. He smiled faintly, his attention shifting to Raine, who rested her head against his shoulder. She seemed at peace; her golden eyes soft as she soaked in the warmth of his presence.
"Godric?" she murmured.
He glanced down at her, arching an inquisitive brow. "Hmm?"
"Do you have… dreams?" she asked, her tone tentative but curious.
Godric chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Well, I've been having this recurring dream about being chased by a ridiculously oversized Niffler playing the bagpipes," he teased.
Raine giggled, the sound light and musical. "No, silly," she replied, nudging him gently. "I mean real dreams. Like… what do you want to do after all this? When you leave Excalibur behind?"
The question caught him off guard, his crimson eyes widening slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish expression flickering across his face. "You know, I haven't really thought about it," he admitted. "Back home, the plan was always to follow in my uncle's footsteps. That was the pinnacle of my future. But now…" He hesitated, his gaze turning contemplative as it drifted back toward the lake. "Now, I don't really know."
He turned the question back to her. "What about you? What are your dreams, Raine?"
At his words, her wolfen ears drooped slightly, and he immediately regretted asking. "Oh, wait—forget I said anything," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to—"
Raine shook her head, silencing his apology with a small, sad smile. "Don't be sorry," she said gently. Her golden eyes turned distant, as though gazing at a memory only she could see. "There was a time," she began softly, "when I wanted to be… a singer."
Godric's brow furrowed in surprise. "A singer?" he echoed, his tone equal parts curiosity and encouragement.
She nodded; her smile tinged with wistfulness. "I used to dream of performing, of filling the air with music so beautiful it could make people forget their troubles, even if just for a moment. But…" She shrugged lightly. "Dreams don't always survive reality, do they?"
Raine reached into her tunic, her movements careful, and drew out a pendant that glinted faintly in the waning light. It was unlike anything Godric had ever seen—a stone that glowed with an almost ethereal light, carved delicately into the shape of a snowflake, its intricate lines encased in a frame of silver that seemed almost alive with its craftsmanship. She held it in her palm, her golden eyes soft yet tinged with sorrow.
"This… this belonged to my mother," Raine said softly, her voice trembling with a fragile note of sorrow. She held the pendant delicately in her palm, the carved snowflake shimmering faintly in the fading light. Her golden eyes glistened as she gazed down at it, lost in a memory far beyond the present.
"I don't remember much about her," she admitted, her tone heavy with the weight of what was lost. "But I do remember her voice… it was beautiful. She used to sing to me and my sister, Skye. Whenever we were sad or scared, her songs would make everything feel… safe. Like no matter how dark the world became, there was still light in her voice."
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her fingers tightened around the pendant as though clinging to a piece of her mother's presence. "She sang to us… even at the end…" Raine's voice broke on the last word, her quiet pain unraveling like a thread pulled too far. "I miss her. I miss my family. Most of all, I miss the life I once had."
The air around them seemed to still, the distant rustle of leaves and lapping of water fading into the background as her words settled into the quiet space between them. Godric's crimson eyes softened, his heart heavy with an ache for the grief she carried so silently.
"Raine…" he started gently, but the words faltered, caught in the weight of the moment. Instead, he sat with her in the silence, offering the solace of his presence as her memories filled the space between them like a fragile, bittersweet melody.
Raine broke the silence, rising to her feet and clutching the pendant close to her heart. She turned to face him, a faint resolve flickering in her golden eyes. "Godric," she said, "would you like to hear me sing?"
His crimson eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Um… sure, Raine," he said.
Her ears twitched slightly at his response, and she gave him a small, almost shy smile. She stepped closer to the edge of the pavilion, where the lake mirrored the last colors of the fading sun. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, and then, softly at first, she began to sing.
It was in a language foreign to him, but her voice was like the wind weaving through autumn leaves—gentle, haunting, and impossibly beautiful. It carried a melody that seemed to transcend words, filling the air with raw emotion. As she sang, Godric could feel the world around them shift, as though time itself had stilled to listen. The weight of her sorrow and longing intertwined with the notes, creating something both heart-wrenching and utterly captivating.
When her song finally faded, the silence that followed felt almost sacred. Godric sat motionless, his gaze fixed on her as she opened her eyes, her cheeks faintly flushed.
"That…" His voice caught in his throat before he managed to find the words. "That was incredible, Raine. Your voice… it's extraordinary."
She looked at him, her golden eyes searching his for sincerity. When she found it, her smile returned, this time brighter, though still tinged with sadness. "Thank you, Godric," she said softly.
For a moment, the world felt a little less lonely. The shared melody of her song seemed to weave an invisible thread between them, binding their hearts in an unspoken understanding. The fragile bond they had nurtured now felt stronger, like a flame sheltered from the wind. Godric rose to his feet, his crimson eyes warm as he reached out and gently took her hands in his own.
"Dreams may not always survive reality," he said. "But that doesn't mean they're gone forever. Sometimes, they just need time—and the right people—to help them find their way back."
Raine gazed up at him, her golden eyes shimmering with a mix of hope and gratitude. A soft smile played on her lips as she stepped closer, resting her head lightly against his chest. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a quiet reassurance in the stillness of the moment.
"Maybe someday," she murmured. "But for now, I'm happy just the way things are. Right here, right now."
Godric's arms instinctively wrapped around her, holding her close as the autumn breeze danced around them. In the quiet embrace of the pavilion, with the lake reflecting the last hues of twilight, the present moment felt like a sanctuary—a fleeting but perfect fragment of peace they could call their own.