Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my thoughts of AU and OC, the rest all belong to J K Rowling.
Chapter 20
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
30th January 1960
When Professor Minerva McGonagall finally returned to her quarters for the night, it was indeed quite late. She was tired to the bones. That lingering headache was not doing anything to lift her moods either. The perfects for once had managed to rein in those feisty cubs of hers. Thankfully no one had set a foot out of their common rooms. She had met Sprout near the kitchen entrance. The Herbology Professor was equally exhausted but did manage to share," Even the badgers know when it's not viable to snoop around. Blimey! Quite a thing indeed, none of your cubs pouncing about!"
Minerva beamed at her colleague with pride," Not a single one of them, Pomona, I can manage to say the same for Horace's snakes. Those are all about Self Preservation. Though I am quite miffed with Dorothy LeStrange."
Sprout patted the Transfiguration professor's arm and tutted," Oh! Don't blame young and blind love! Poor thing, still can't see that git Abraxas is only playing with her, he is set to marry, I read in the Prophet only recently."
Muttering to herself as she walked up to her desk. Fishing out her charmed keys, McGonagall hissed," Like I give a care for what these Malfoys are up to! Cunning as they come, 'you will never find one at the scene of the crime, though their fingerprints might be all over the guilty wand.' Whoever said that is right till the last syllable. We also have The Prophet is inventing newer standards of degrading itself every day!"
Unlocking one of her drawers, she found her much needed Invigoration Draught potion. It was her last phial. She would have to go to the infirmary first thing in the morning tomorrow to replenish her personal stash.
What she was not expecting at all, was a knock at her door at this hour. She looked up at the portrait of "Louis"- her mother's long-dead familiar ginger kneazle, hung beside the door.
"Louis, would that be a student?"
The kneazle in the portrait peered at her and swished its tail with a flourish, indicating she could open the door. There was nothing harmful standing on the other side.
A swish of her wand later the door cracked open. Much to her surprise, she found the Charms professor standing at the threshold.
"Filius, you could have flooed…"
"There you are, yes I could have. But you see, my mind is not at rest, so I took a rather long walk. And it was quite surprising that one of my Ravens had gone missing."
"Who?"
"Ah! Miss Pince. She had sneaked out of the common room and was in the library nose deep in books, scrolls, and parchment. I might as well add, we have our voluntary researcher to our peculiar problem. Miss Pomphrey was escorting her back to the tower, as we were making us way to the library. Fine young woman, that bright Hufflepuff. Albus should start planning on inducting her as a mediwitch when the time comes."
Inviting the older teacher to an empty seat, Minerva chuckled, "And I must add, my cubes were rather well behaved, not one went pouncing at the sense of adventure. "
"Thanks to Merlin! I had that good fortune not to bet on that this time", Filius modified the chair to his personal comfort.
It was rather insulting, Minerva thought, to offer a stack of books as a seat placed above the chair seat so that the short professor could see above the table. The flickering lights of the fresh candles had thrown a good amount of light on the rather older colleague, and Minerva felt for the first time, age was indeed too difficult to defeat.
The older man removed his round golden rim spectacles and tapped his wand on their surface twice. A whiff of smoke and a tiny spray of some liquid later, he smirked at Minerva, bringing the now shining glasses close to his eyes.
Enjoying her surprised look, the old man barked a laugh and revealed rather proudly," Oh! That would be one of your cube's artistic inventions."
"One of mine, which one? Surely not Agustha Craggan?"
"The very same, smart lady, after all, isn't she a distant relative to Muldoon Cragg."
"Oh yes, our former Head of the House."
Flitwick was about to wear the spectacles over his nose when a rather odd glint of light reflected on its surface. Curious he looked about. Gauging the placement of the candles and assessing the room particularly, he looked over to the long bookcase that covered one of the walls of the transfiguration professor's maroon and golden chambers.
'Indeed, the Scottish Witch was a hat staller. Minerva could have been a Ravenclaw, like a Hufflepuff, loyal, and just with her treatment, she does have Slytherin tendencies since she is well adapted to catching miscreants past curfew,' the half-goblin mused as he let his eyes lazily look over the rows of books and periodicals arranged neatly one beside the other.
'AH! There! Right above the row of the periodicals, is a small gap, after which the rather heavy and older tomes are arranged meticulously,' the Charms professor chuckled inwardly and studied it.
It was a round glass ball perched upon a range of handcrafted mountain edges. It was a small and unique showpiece. But the thing moving inside had shocked Filius Flitwick from his toes to the tip of his hair. Blinking his eyes, he desperately tried to hide his raging emotions,' Why on earth would Minerva McGonagall keep a showpiece of a mythical dragon?'
While the charms professor looked over to the transfiguration mistress with renewed interest, the latter had brought out two tumblers and was pouring some Ogden's firewhiskey into both of them. Handing one to the old wizard, she took a sip from her own glass and leaned back on her chair.
"So, what bothers you, apart from the buzzing and humming? You have never taken to so much walking, like Albus?" she asked genially.
"Old age does play quite many tricks on your mind, Minerva. But let us keep that aside. I rather have an interesting tale to share with you, if it is not too late for you that is." the other asked in return.
"No, not at all, Filius, please with due respect, carry on, I would prefer a tale, to those books, right at this moment, though don't tell that to anyone."
Barking a laugh, Filius Flitwick, arranged his robes and leaned back. Once comfortable and aware that he had the much younger transfiguration teacher's complete attention, he began.
"It is rather a folktale or a fairytale, that my mother would tell me, at bedtime. All other goblin kids knew of them of course. We would often have mock playacts among us, at our nanny homes, oh! Those are like your kindergarten schools. Homeschooling among goblins was popular, still, nanny homes were preferable."
"Anyways, so this tale was about dragons. Now, Minerva, don't squint your eyes like that. You must have heard about how the whole art of becoming an animagus came into being. And, I am not referring to those texts and periodicals. Magic is truly old and ancient. It goes way back than we have known proof of."
Turning his head, the half-goblin peered out into the dark and mysterious night, through one of the bay windows of the chamber. His eyes grew distant while the candles lights continued flicker against his glasses. But Minerva noticed the animated gaze trapped behind them.
"This was when the world was more together than as apart as it is today. In the highlands of the Scots and Gaels and of the isles of the Vikings and even in the forests of Rheine and those far off places in Europe, dragons lived like kings among other beasts. While dragons were there, there were also men from warrior tribes, magical folks, indeed. These men in order to tame and harness the power of these magical creatures had started working on their own magical core. Their interest was in morphing themselves into dragons, if possible. They thought they could study how magic courses through a dragon's body and how it utilizes that power in the process. Ah! I think from there the line comes, "a dragon's heart, helps to breathe magic", nonsense but theatrical. "
McGonagall smirked slightly, but tilted her head, asking the goblin to carry on mutely.
Clearing his throat, the latter complied, "Among these tribes of men, I think there were five, but could be more… there was one tribe that was first successful, in mastering the art of transfiguring themselves. It started within a family of three brothers and two sisters. Although goblins prefer to talk one brother in particular. The old goblin folks had great respect for him. He had saved a few of the prominent goblin colonies from the threats of rogue dragons that harnessed dark magic, vile creatures if you ask me. For his favors, and also seeing how he had no inhibition against other magical creatures, the goblin elders had gifted him with the "Saumohr's Teeth".
"We would make mock swords and would duel each other. But the real 'Saumohr's Teeth' is lost. Now that is quite later into the tale. Well, there were three brothers and two sisters as I said…" Filius stopped a moment to wet his throat with some of his firewhiskey, and Minerva refilled it once again, her mind enwrapped in the half goblin's strange tale.
"Five siblings and all of them capable of turning themselves into dragons. The third brother did honors to the goblin king, brave and strong to wield the' Saumohr's Teeth'." Flilius's eyes were shining with childish mirth. "This third one crossed the ocean, for his eyes were hungry for adventure, the other two elders stayed behind, guarding what they called home. The sisters were married off to far of lands."
The Charms Professor's voice rose a little and the younger colleague could imagine the characters coming alive right in front of her eyes, "It is believed that he had gained the trust of giant beasts and was quite popular among them. He was last seen or heard to have lived on the 'Isles that ocean hides'. Many have traveled to find him, but none returned. Among their familiars, few survived and what all can be known from them is that Dearc Mordor devoured them. The great dragon or dragon king- GUL- VILT as he was called, has treasures that were lost in The Great Fire. And among them, was the most precious, was his soul."
The conductor of the Hogwarts Choir broke into a song, next.
"There is a saying among the magical creatures who have lived since the ancient times of Gul Vilt. It goes like this-
One will be born,
The best among the ravens,
with a heart and
a soul purest of kind
and his love for his evenstar
will eclipse the sun
and the moon.
He will honour the king with a gift
that the king will not refuse.
"The goblins believe that the Vaktare rikedom Gul Vit are still among us, guarding Gul Vilt's treasure, honour, and will."
"Their tasks led down
and forged in drogon fire.
Till the time Gul Vilt's soul
is resurrected,
they must band and
they must do so
for the sake of magic alone."
When the old charms professor and head of the house of the Ravenclaws, had finally taken his leave for the night, Minerva McGonagall had sat still on her wing chair, wondering what had got into the charms teacher who had left abruptly without throwing much light on his weird tale.
When it had come to close, she could not help herself but ask, "But why, tell me?"
Filius had hopped down his tall perch and winked at her saying, "As much as Dumbledore now wears canary yellow robes and a tall wizard's hat, we must not forget under all that glittering and sparkling lights and stars, the man still remains. The one we know as a three-suited formidable dueler and a master strategist. Surely, as a realist like him will not listen to fairytales of goblins. Especially when the goblins don't wish him to know of it."
"But why tell ME, I can also tell the whole story to Albus, now that I have heard of it."
"No, you won't do that, daughter of a Ross. You won't betray the blood oath of your bloodline."
Vaktare rikedom Gul Vit- in Swedish and old Gaelic roughly means Keeper of the treasure of Golden White. If you think I am not quite accurate, do let it pass as work of fiction.