"Fiend!" Godric bellowed, rising to his full towering height and slamming his fist on the table. "How dare you spit on my friendship!"
Salazar caught the slip of paper that flew from the pile before him and glanced at it with disinterest. "Oh would you look at this. That McLaggen student of yours has failed to submit a decent essay yet again. Can't say I'm surprised. "
"He's your student too, you know. You ought to teach him instead of intimidating him for belonging in Godric's house," chided Helga next to him, taking the paper from his hands to look over it. She grimaced. "Although I suppose you're right about this one."
"Tell me, Salazar, what more do I have to do to convince you?" demanded Godric, his face red with rage. "You know exactly how much value I place on my honor and that of my father and his fathers. You must give me the chance to rectify the situation with Lady Vulchanova, as a favor to a friend if not for the sake of common decency! Surely your love for me, however deeply buried it is in that cold black heart of yours, feels the slightest bit compelled to ease my torment?"
"Godric."
Godric beamed. He clamped a hand on Salazar's shoulder hard enough to ruffle his hair and knock the wind out of him. Sometimes Godric doesn't know his own strength, and in such occasions Salazar hates him most. "I knew there was goodness in you after all! Thank you ever so much for relenting."
"I was not," said Salazar, shooting Godric a sharp look before smoothing his fingers through his tousled locks. "I was going to ask you to kindly stop talking. Lady Helga and I are trying to fix the mess you've made with our assignments in your ill-revised scheme to have our joint potions lesson postponed."
Helga tutted, looking over the piles before them that have yet to be touched. "You've made quite the mess this time. You know you could've just asked me for help."
"I know I could always count on you, sweet lady," said Godric, slumping dejectedly back into his chair. "It is this man I used to call friend." He glared at Salazar.
Salazar rolled his eyes and pushed a relatively tall stack of papers towards the fiery founder. "Just make yourself useful for once and help us undo this mess you've created before I am to meet with Lady Vulchanova. You ought to be thankful that Helga and I are keeping this from Rowena."
Godric grumbled but started undoing the stack anyway. He frowned. "Why are you keeping this from Lady Rowena?"
Salazar huffed in his growing frustration with the extra workload and the perpetrator's inability to stay quiet. He was half tempted to send him away, or to hex him into silence, but instead he turned towards him and said: "because, friend, doing so might inspire Lady Rowena to delegate even more responsibilities towards me regarding Lady Vulchanova and I see enough of her as it is."
"Then let me take her off your hands for a few hours!" he all but pleaded, abandoning the task at hand yet again. "That's all I ask, Salazar. It's all I need! I promise you she will be out of your finely kept hair in no time."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Godric."
"I'm certain it's flattery that made you a Lord, Slytherin!"
"That my friend is called tact, of which you lack."
He glared scathingly at his friend. "And who are you to tell?"
"An unwilling witness to the many incidents that took place because you chose to consult that thing between your legs rather than your head."
"Oh come now, Salazar, don't be so cruel!" interjected Helga, looking absolutely heartbroken. She placed her hand on Salazar's arm. He stubbornly kept his eyes on the papers before him, for like Rowena and Godric he is mostly weak to that particular pleading face of hers. "Don't you want to see new love blossom within these walls?"
Godric was so overtaken with gratitude and affection for Hufflepuff that he could do nothing but grin at her.
"The mere thought makes me ill," said Salazar. "Please don't, Lady Helga. I would hate to return the pecan pie you served at lunch in the most unflattering manner. It was quite delicious."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Lord Slytherin," she said with a smirk, wagging a finger at him.
He smiled. "I may be many things, Lady Hufflepuff, but a flatterer I am not."
"Oh please just let me help him!" She moaned, now gripping his arm with both hands and leaning into him, making him almost knock the inkbottle over his students' assignments. "You don't even have to do anything, just look away and close your ears to our conversation!"
He eyed the full inkbottle warily then decided to remove it from Helga's reach. "Godric is much too loud to permit it."
Helga leaned away from her chair and into a rather awkward and unbecoming position for a lady of her stature to poke her head between Salazar's face and the inkbottle in his hand, making him curse and falter in his shock. She grinned, knowing full well that she'd won.
"Fine. Fine!" he snapped, setting the inkbottle rather aggressively and pushing his chair back and rising to his feet, looking absolutely flustered. "But if Rowena asks I'm denying involvement."
Helga giggled. "I'll make sure they name their firstborn after you."
"I will have my entire name changed if they do." He narrowed his eyes at her before turning away from the grinning duo and marching towards the exist.
"Where are you going?" called Godric. There was still lots of paperwork to be done.
He yanked the door open and glared at him. Godric could've sworn he felt the chill even from the distance. "If you must know, Sir Gryffindor, I'm getting wine."
Helga frowned. "But it's only noon."
"It is indeed and you, sweet lady, will share the bottle with me."
She raised her brows, shocked yet amused at his unusually brazen conduct. "And pray tell why would I do that?"
"Because it will be a bottle of rare and finely aged elf wine from Gryffindor's own cellar, of which he thinks he can conceal from me." He then smiled pleasantly at Godric. It hit him like a wall of bricks but he was too late to stop it. "The amount of time it will take me to Disapparate to and back from your cellar should be the same amount it will take lady Helga to reveal Lady Vulchanova's whereabouts. Think fast, Gryffindor!"
Godric was on his feet in an instant with a hand on the hilt of his sword, but Slytherin was already out. They heard the familiar 'pop' a moment later and it left Godric frozen in his place. He only had a few bottles of the wine Salazar spoke of. The brewery that made it was demolished and the bottles from that year were especially hard to come by. A few glasses would cost a man his fortune and Godric searched tirelessly for the few bottles he managed to obtain. He only drank a glass or two himself and he'd be damned if Salazar gets close enough to glimpse his precious wine, but on the other hand he might not get another chance to court Lady Vulchanova with Rowena's watchful eyes currently occupied at the other side of the country.
He sat back down with a defeated snarl. He shoved his sword back into its hilt. Somehow, someway, someday, he would get Salazar for this and he would get him good.
The shelter Helga and Vulchanova had built for the orphaned piglets was big enough to house several horses, with a wide sturdy frame and a high glass ceiling. Godric had expected a proper pigsty that would surely stain his fine robes, not a grand clean stable fit for a lord. On the one hand he was impressed with the work the women had managed to do in such a short amount of time, but on the other he wished Helga had at least warned him in advance. The old robes he wore were faded and tattered and not remotely suitable for impressing a woman as difficult as Vulchanova.
He was about to turn back and change into better robes when he saw a swarm of Thestrals swooping in from the forest to the shelter, creating a large ring of black around it. Godric felt his heart sink to his stomach. That can't be good. He gets chills merely glimpsing the occasional lone ones during his hunts, let alone an entire herd so close to the castle. Without a second thought he took out his wand and charged towards the herd, expecting them to disperse or to prepare for a fight, but instead they remained in their position facing the shelter with their backs to him. It didn't take long for him to understand why.
He didn't know what to call the sound. It was a haunting melody, one he'd normally avoid, but it was drawing him in against his better judgment. He's heard the siren's call in the past (briefly, for Rowena was smart and quick to bind him and Salazar to a tree before rushing to save the villager boy from the siren's clutches) and it had blinded him to his surroundings and had forced his legs to move towards it, whereas this odd foreign song was much gentler in its persuasion.
The herd appeared to be as curious with the call, which got louder the closer he got to the shelter, but when one at the back sensed him approaching it immediately took flight, alerting the entire herd that were quick to follow it into the air and towards the forest.
The song ended abruptly, almost the same time the herd disappeared into the shadows beyond the trees. Godric stood before the double doors, stunned in dead silence before gathering his courage once again and pushing the doors open a crack. A startled squeal followed by a hard shove on the other side slammed the doors shut in Godric's face, knocking him straight to the ground. He clutched his bleeding nose and muttered several unspeakable obscenities before grabbing his wand and healing whatever damage the blow inflicted.
"Godric!" he heard her hissing from the inside, scolding in her native tongue.
The bloody hell did I do now? He thought indignantly.
He heard several squeals and Vulchanova ushering the piglets away from the door before opening it herself. Godric sat up on the ground just in time to meet her apologetic gaze and proffered hand. "Please forgive me, Lord Salaz–" her expression turned cold when her eyes registered the individual glaring back at her. She quickly retrieved her hand and straightened up to stare haughtily down at him. "Sir Gryffindor. To what do I owe this…visit?"
"Well, if I may be frank–"
An angry fat piglet repeatedly ramming its head into the sole of his boot cut him off. He raised a brow at its continued effort to hurt Godric, then noticed its siblings cowering behind Vulchanova's robes. The smallest one, which he assumed to be the runt Helga helped nurse back to health, was cradled in her arms.
"It appears that Godric remembers you well, Sir Gryffindor," she said, staring at the valiant piglet in amusement while stroking the tiny one in her arms.
He glared at his persistent assailant. "And may I presume that Godric has been told of how I was nearly gutted looking for him and his siblings?" Then it occurred to him. He looked up at Vulchanova. "Forgive me, my lady, but I can't help but notice that the piglet and I share the same name."
She nodded, unfazed. "He was named in your honor."
"O-oh, is that so?" he said, unable to do much in his shock besides grin stupidly.
"Lord Salazar insisted."
"Ah, of course!" he chuckled. "That Salazar had me fooled! All this time I thought he took me for a joke. He must've been inspired by this creature's courage, to insist that he be named in my honor."
"No," she said bluntly, causing him to drop his large grin and all warm thoughts of his friend. "It's the way Godric always thrusts his head into solid objects for no apparent reason, except for this instance where he clearly feels the need to protect his siblings from his mother's killer."
He sighed. It appears that she wasn't willing to forget about that particular blunder of his anytime soon. He stood up slowly and dusted his robes. "Please, Lady Vulchanova," he began, looking imploringly at her even as Godric the feisty piglet found a target in the wizard's ankle. "I wish to apologize."
"And I wish to never speak with you."
It stung on a deeper level than he anticipated and he struggled to understand why. Contrary to popular belief, Godric Gryffindor had known rejection, but he never let it get in the way before. He'd normally proceed to court and charm his target until she softens and finds herself purring in his arms, but for some reason this time he could do or say nothing in return. He couldn't even look into her eyes, for they felt as cold and sharp and cruel as the steel of his sword against his foes.
"H-how are your wounds, Sir Gryffindor?" she asked after a lengthy silence.
He looked at her, startled at the nature of the question and the sudden change in tone. She was looking down at the small piglet in her arms, stroking him gently still, but her softened expression combined with her furrowed brows gave her away. Godric was shocked, and now even more ashamed of himself. Could it be that she held herself solely responsible for the injuries caused by one of his many follies?
He felt that she wouldn't appreciate him addressing her guilt, so instead he grinned broadly and patted his once gaping stomach reassuringly. "Tis but a scratch, my Lady." He saw the corner of her mouth twitching and he felt encouraged, even as Little Godric continued ramming his head into his ankle. "I was also awfully fortunate to have been found by you and Lady Helga. I don't believe I ever thanked you for saving my life."
"To put yourself in that situation was foolish enough, Sir Gryffindor."
He quickly bit back a retort. Rowena had already shut it down when he tried it with her and he's only just beginning to make some kind of progress with Vulchanova. He would be an even bigger fool to ruin what he's certain is his last chance with her.
"You're absolutely right, my lady," he said, bowing his head. "There are many things I ought to feel sorry for, but my greatest shame is the way in which I repaid your kindness by speaking of you in such vulgarity. It was uncalled for, even behind closed doors and in the presence of trusted friends, and for that I will humbly ask for your forgiveness."
She narrowed her eyes at him and he started to panic. Why can't he ever please this woman? "Sir Gryffindor, how often do you speak about women in private, and with such vulgarity as you've put it?"
Once again he had to fight the urge to defend his questionable behavior with the fairer sex. "Please, my Lady. I am a grown man, but I am learning still."
She regarded him for an interval, stroking the stripped bundle in her arms thoughtfully. "I do not trust your motives, Sir Gryffindor."
"B-but my Lady!" he sputtered helplessly, his carefully composed demeanor all but crumbling at her judgment.
"I was warned of you," she said, staring at him in the same scornful expression he never wanted to see directed towards him again. "I heard stories of your adventures and of your bravery, of the many lives you've fought hard to save, but I was also heard of your misdemeanors with women. Harfang and I sailed from a long distance, Sir Gryffindor, leaving the school for a whole year in the hands of a few trusted individuals. We did not take this risk just so I could be insulted at every turn and then made into one of your many disposable playthings."
She paused, either to collect her thoughts or to give him the opportunity to defend himself, which he wouldn't be able to no matter how much he desired it. Rowena had scolded him many times for it, but he never truly felt shame until the exact same words came out of Vulchanova's mouth.
"I appreciate you taking the time to come see me against your colleague's orders and to apologize," she continued, "but I cannot pretend to trust you after everything I've heard and saw, so I will ask you to please keep your distance. Should you abide by that I promise to not bring this visit to your colleagues' attention."
His shoulders slumped in defeat. He was too disinherited to even care if it reached Rowena's ears. In all his years he had never once seen himself for the vile person he truly is until the image was reflected back at him from the repulsion in Vulchanova's grey eyes.
"I will do as you say then, and pray that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me," he said dejectedly, offering her one last bow before turning to leave.
He was suddenly reminded of the Thestrals and caught her just as she was about to close the double doors behind her. "One more thing, Lady Vulchanova, if you will!"
She frowned but lowered the runt onto the ground. It squealed in protest but she hushed it before gently ushering it indoors with the rest of its siblings and closing the door.
"Could you please refrain from singing that song in the future? It's attracting an alarming number of Thestrals into the grounds and I wouldn't want any of the students to encounter them."
Her brows knitted in confusion. "I don't understand. Lord Salazar said Thestrals live deep in the Dark Forest and hardly come near the edge."
"They appear to really like your singing."
"What sing– oh." She blushed. "You… you heard me."
He raised a brow. "Along with an entire herd, yes I heard your song."
Her blush deepened at that. She walked past him to look out into the edge of the forest some distance from where they were. "That would be Kulning, Sir Gryffindor. It's an ancient herding call of Harfang's people. He taught it to me, but he always said I was no good."
He scoffed. "Harfang Munter is clearly mistaken, or possible deaf. I have never in my life seen Thestrals respond to anyone the way they did to your…" he strained to remember the word she used. "…Herding call, especially in such large numbers. They're very shy creatures."
Lord knows that Godric himself couldn't help but respond to it.
She was quiet. Godric feared that he may have somehow offended her again, but then she took a deep breath and the melancholic yet alluring melody streamed out of her lips and echoed into the distance.
"What on Earth do you think you're you doing?!" he hissed, rushing to stop her.
"Calling the herd," she said incredulously, looking at him as if she couldn't believe how obviously stupid his question was.
"Absolutely not," he said with rarely used authority. "Thestrals are a bad omen and I will not have coming near the castle."
She appeared shocked, either at his uncharacteristic sternness or at that particular statement. "Surely you're not one to believe in such silly superstitions, Sir Gryffindor."
"Known facts, my Lady," he corrected her. "It is also known that misfortune will befall on those that touch a Thestral."
She responded by glaring at him and then cupping her hands around her mouth to magnify her call.
"Enough!" he grabbed her wrist to yank one hand away from her mouth when he glimpsed shadows approaching from within the trees.
"I'll forgive you!" she declared, the desperation in her voice and her pleading eyes catching him off guard.
"My lady–!"
"I will forgive you," she repeated, this time with more conviction, "if you let me call them."
For all his flaws and weaknesses, Godric never failed to make the right decision especially when it concerned the safety of his friends and of his students. This time, however, he felt deeply conflicted and it had nothing to do with his own desperate desire to have her. He could tell that it was very important for her to see this.
For once he was not confident with his choice and he reckons it shows on his face, but slowly he released his tight hold on her wrist. She took a moment to study his face, perhaps expecting him to change his mind, but then she then turned back towards the forest and continued from where she left off. It didn't take long for the herd to return and encircle them once again, cautiously yet very curiously approaching Vulchanova. When the closest of the herd stood a foot from her her calls got reduced to a low hum. She allowed the creature to sniff the air around her face, as wide-eyed and entranced with the horrid thing as it was with her, and then slowly she lifted her hand to caress its neck.
"I wouldn't do that, my Lady," he urged quietly from behind her, his eyes flickering to the foal that seemed to take an interest in him. "They're quite vicious when provoked."
Before she could respond the Thestral nuzzled her cheek, making her squeal in surprise and then giggle when another came from behind her to playfully nip at her ear. Godric could only stare in silence with his mouth hanging open in a rather unflattering manner. The Thestrals' behavior was astounding enough on its own, perhaps even groundbreaking, but it was Vulchanova that rendered his vital senses momentarily useless. He had never seen this side of her before, in fact he never thought she had it in her to smile, and yet there she was standing right before him getting blissfully lost in the affections of Thestrals of all creatures, looking like his female students when they first glimpse a unicorn foal.
It was the first time he's seen her as she truly is, and he feels honored in being the only one. She had been pleasant with Salazar, kind to Helga, and there appeared to be some kind of an understanding between her and Rowena, but she always appeared to be too tense and composed even during the few times she smiled at Salazar. She never allowed herself to be as relaxed and cheerful as she is right now interacting with dark creatures even Godric avoids.
"You are a very odd woman, Lady Vulchanova," he murmured, smiling at the grotesque yet oddly beautiful sight.
That night Godric Gryffindor did two things he, and everyone he knew for that matter, didn't think he'd ever even contemplate doing. The first was giving his heart and mind to one woman. The second was petting a Thestral foal.
A/N: You can think of Kulning as a Swedish version of yodelling or hollering, but far more beautiful in my opinion. You can hear a Disney-fied version of it in the Frozen soundtrack and a rather aggressive version in some Viking episodes, but if you're looking for a more authentic track I'd recommend looking up Jonna Jinton on YouTube. It was used to call back herding animals like cows or goats, so I'm not sure if it'd work on lone wild animals, and since Thestrals are highly intelligent and sensitive to their surroundings (and to their owners, if they happen to be domesticated) and also known to live in large herds I figured they'd respond very well to it.
As for Vulchanova and Gryffindor easily seeing a Therstral... well I assumed that during the Middle Ages it'd be more common for people to see death, especially witches and wizards that are constantly being chased. That and it wouldn't make any sense for either two to NOT see a Thestral, as HP Wiki claims that both were very famous in their own region for their many achievements.