(pretend the icons are right!)
Intent. That was what George had kind of been hoping to hear, because countless times before now he'd been trying to convince himself that what he was fighting for with this village wasn't wrong or evil — because of his intent. "Right," he said to signal that he understood. He gave a quiet sort of laugh. "Good to know. About personality. I don't..." he didn't want to let himself get absorbed by it, is what he meant. "I understand." He'd cautioned Albus against the same thing, though that came back to intent and personality, didn't it? George was coming to Salazar to find a way to control the means that lead to an end meant for good — not simply studying the dark arts because he could. And doing this still didn't feel entirely right.
Chewing his lip for a moment, George looked up and made eye-contact with Salazar. "I'll trust you," he started, "I'll trust you to teach me what I need to know, and to make sure I have control of it." Just this alone signified how far George had come, from being wary of someone simply for the colors on their robes to consulting the very founder of that house for assistance with something he had fought a war to keep it from getting out of control. But the more time he spent with Godric and Salazar, the more he saw how alike they really were.
"Maybe we aren't so different, you know?" George blurted out before he was aware he'd voiced his thoughts. "When I'm from, it's so fucking black-and-white, like, you're either Good Guy Gryffindor so Slimy Git Slytherin. There's no fucking middle ground, because no one on either side can take their heads out of their asses long enough to find it. I came here distrusting everyone in your house on principle of where they'd been Sorted. Funny now things change, huh?" He finished, then, a little embarrassed about going on a speech that was kind of completely off-topic, George said: "Well, anyway, let's get on with it, shall we?"