AN –All Dumbledore bashing is completely intentional, and will be repeated as needed until he gets the point.
Conversations in bold italics are Gobbledygook.
Conversations in italics are Elvish.
"Good morning, Augusta!" Dumbledore oozed, his eyes twinkling like strobe lights as he attempted to charm the guardian of his last hope to defeat Voldemort. "I hope you are doing well?" He took the hand she held out and bowed over it, after all she was the matriarch of the Longbottoms, an ancient and proud purebred family, and she expected the courtesies to be followed.
Dumbledore continued to murmur polite nothings as he ushered the elderly lady out of the foyer and into a formal sitting room. He had managed to talk the blasted woman into visiting him at his home in Godric's Hollow, so now all he had to do was convince her that he knew what was best for her grandson.
Augusta Longbottom kept her polite but stern expression on her face with great effort. Dumbledore was hardly her favorite person in the world, but she had accepted his invitation out of curiosity; it was better to know what he was up to than to be blindsided later by some plot he had conceived. She sniffed at his overacting as he led her to an over stuffed chair decorated with large pink antique roses. "Please, take this chair, it is the most comfortable."
"Would you like tea? I have just acquired a delicious blend of Darjeeling," he continued, despite the suspicious looks Augusta was giving him. Dumbledore smiled genially, apparently thrilled with her presence, even as his thoughts ran down a totally different road. 'How am I going to get this old buzzard to agree to my plan? One way or another I must convince her, there is no way around it.' He called a house elf and it appeared with a tea service, setting it on the coffee table. "Would you like milk? Perhaps a lump of sugar? May I temp you with a tea cake?"
Mrs. Longbottom accepted the cup of tea, but set it down on the saucer with a sharp click after the barest sip. "Perhaps you could get to the point Mr. Dumbledore," she said sharply. She knew a con job when she saw one, so she knew he wanted something – more than likely something she had no intention of agreeing to. Too many years of fighting him in the Wizengamot had taught her to be especially wary when the old coot's eyes twinkled like this.
"Perhaps you heard about the Potter boy's disappearance, a little more than a year ago?" Dumbledore decided the soft approach wasn't going to work with the matron, so he'd take a different tack. He put a sad expression on his face, as if he truly regretted what had happened to the blasted boy-who-lived.
"Of course," Augusta agreed. After all, who didn't know the boy had gone missing, given the huge headlines in that disgrace to journalism called the Daily Prophet. "Such a shame. Last of the Potter's I believe?" She kept her face blank as she noted the sudden widening of Dumbledore's eyes, right before they narrowed in realization. He'd forgotten all about the Potter vaults...the unclaimed vaults that could be his, if he approached the Goblins in the right mannor...
'The Potter fortune wasn't part of his original scheme, but he's thinking about it now…I wonder how he intends to get his hands on their vaults without the boy? I know he wasn't named as a guardian, come to think of it, how was he allowed to place the boy with those terrible people in the first place? I'll have to get my lawyers to check into this…' Augusta mused, all the while keeping her sharp eyes on Dumbledore. She lifted her teacup to drink and watched as Dumbledore's eyes followed her movement, a satisfied expression on his face.
"Such a shame, indeed," Dumbledore stated solemnly, the twinkle in his eyes dimming at the thought of such a tragic loss of life. 'I do believe the eye twinkle is my best effect,' he gloated. 'Now for the bait…'
"You are aware of what supposedly happened the night the poor child's parents were killed?"
Augusta looked at him for a long moment, seemingly surprised at the direction the conversation had suddenly taken. "I wasn't aware that there was any doubt as to what had happened," she answered.
"Such a sad thing…and then the terrible thing that happened to your son and his wife," Dumbledore continued. "You are aware of the prophecy, of course? The very thing that set all of this in motion…," he trailed off, his twinkle gone once more. He didn't know however, that his eyes actually betrayed him with the cold calculating expression they currently held. "The thing is," he hesitated, wanting Augusta to ask him what he meant so she was drawn into the conversation.
She stared at him for several moments, beginning to understand where he was going with all this. "The thing is…?" she prompted, deciding to go along with his game.
"We all thought that Harry Potter was the child of the prophecy…" Dumbledore said with a sad expression on his face. "The prophecy said that they could only be killed by one another…," he paused and sighed. "The fact is, I have reason to believe that poor Harry is indeed dead…," he hoped she wouldn't ask exactly how he knew, since the way he'd tracked the boy's life force could be considered a dark art, since it used unwillingly taken blood.
"Such a shame, to die at such a young age." Augusta was now certain of what Dumbledore wanted. 'Ah, now I know what he's after…and he isn't going to get it, not if I have anything to say about it,' she thought, barely hiding her rage at the old man's scheming.
"I'm afraid we must have made a mistake interpreting the prophecy, because if Harry is indeed dead, it means contrary to all evidence, he wasn't the child fated to destroy the Dark Lord…and," he paused to gauge her reaction then was forced to continue when all he got was an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "…your grandson Neville is the boy the prophecy spoke about. I'm afraid for his safety so you'll need to let me take charge of him so he can be trained."
Dumbledore was surprised when the elderly lady started laughing at him!
"I suppose you expect me to trust you, and hand my grandson over to you without a thought, don't you?" She chuckled again, enjoying the shock on the old fool's face. "You think I would give you custody of a puffskien after what you did to the Potter boy?" Her face went stern, and she leaned forward suddenly and poked Dumbledore in the chest with a long slender finger. "If you make any attempt to even contact my grandson, I will have you in front of the Wizengamet on charges of kidnapping, child endangerment, and inheritance fraud so quickly your lemon drops will melt."
She sat back with a grim smile on her face as Dumbledore paled slightly. His reaction confirmed her theory that he'd somehow gotten around the Potter's will. She had believed Alice and Frank were named as guardians in case something happened to James and Lilly so she'd been surprised when their son went directly to his muggle relatives. Two days later her son and daughter-in-law were attacked and she'd had too much to think about so the Potter child was forgotten. At the time, there was nothing she could do about it anyway, and later it had been impossible to find him, due to special wards to keep wizards away no doubt. No, it wouldn't have been in Dumbledore's plans for Harry to be raised by someone who would teach him his place in the wizarding world.
"You do realize you are alone in my house, drinking my tea, don't you Madam," Dumbledore snapped once he recovered from his shock at being found out. He wasn't sure why the potion he'd slipped into her tea wasn't working, but there was no way he was going to allow her to leave without agreeing to hand guardianship of Neville over to him. He also decided he would obliviate her, to remove this conversation from her memory.
"You do realize I would hardly walk into your house without taking precautions, don't you?" she countered, her eyes hard. "There is a monitoring charm on me and if anything were to go the slightest bit wrong, something so small as my heart beating too fast, or my breathing rate rising, for example, a number of different people would be notified, and they would all apparate directly here," she smirked, as Dumbledore didn't look as sure of himself as he had before. "And as for the compulsion potion you put in my tea…I received an Outstanding in my potions Newt; it's hardly likely I would miss the taste." She had also left some detailed instructions with her lawyers as to what action they should take if she came back from this visit impaired in any way, along with a long letter to herself in case she were obliviated.
Augusta smiled triumphantly when Dumbledore's mask slipped and a slightly panicked look showed for a brief moment.
"You forgot that I was a Slytherin, didn't you…,"she paused as a look of dismay appeared on Dumbledore's face. "Oh how wonderful, you did!" she chortled gleefully.
Gavin woke slowly; his head pounding as if someone were dancing on it. When he opened his eyes finally, the first thing he saw was the ceiling of the Healing Hall.
"Ah, glad to see you're awake finally," Awel said, sitting down beside the bed and starting a diagnostic spell. "You've been sleeping for two days, so I expect you're hungry?"
Gavin nodded carefully, but made a face at the mention of food.
"Does your head hurt? I would expect it would, since whatever you three were up to managed to magically exhaust both you and Gwydion." The healer selected a potion from a number sitting on a tray beside the bed and held it out to him. "Take this; it will make it quit hurting so much." Gavin carefully swallowed the nasty liquid, and lay back to wait until it took effect. Awel held a cup of water for him to wash the taste away with.
"I expect you'd like to know what has happened while you took your nap?" Awel smiled as Gavin's eyes opened once more, his anxiety for his brother and friend clear. "Both Gwydion and Newlyn are fine. They are both still asleep, however, so we aren't sure what happened."
The potion had started to work, so Awel helped Gavin sit up and placed a tray of apple slices and nut bread in front of him, then handed him a cup of warm tea. "Go ahead and eat, I'll ask some questions and you can just nod until you're finished."
Awel explained how Llygoden had found the tracks the boy's had left, leading from the dead tree to where Newlyn lay, but how the centaur had gotten down onto the sandbar was still a mystery to everyone, since Newlyn had obviously not climbed down. They'd had to make a litter and slide the foal onto it, and then lift the litter with their magic, instead of the foal, to get him up off the sandbar because magic hadn't worked on him directly. The blood they'd found under him on the rocks had both frightened and puzzled the rescuers, since none of the three were wounded.
"Alright, apparently you were looking for your ball and you or Gwydion fell over the embankment…," he paused as Gavin shook his head since he had a mouthful of nut bread at the moment. "Newlyn fell?" Gavin nodded, taking a swallow of the tea and biting off another piece of bread. "He was hurt?"
Gavin nodded and swallowed so he could explain. "The dirt at the edge broke and Newlyn fell over. He was hurt real bad. My diagnostic spell said his rib went through his lung, and something else was bleeding inside of him. He also had a broken leg and a big cut on his side, and he hit his head really hard – there was a big soft spot and it was bleeding inside his head too."
Awel heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him and turned to see Myrddin and Dylluan standing there. He wasn't surprised at their reaction; normally anyone wounded that badly would have died, probably well before help could have arrived.
Myrddin leaned over and gave Gavin a gentle hug and kiss, careful not to upset the tray. "You had us all so worried Gavin. You and Gwydion used so much magic you nearly died! I'm so glad you're alright, but I don't understand what happened."
"I'm sorry if we made you worried, Grandfather," Gavin said sadly, a tear in his eye. "We didn't mean to, and I didn't know we used too much magic. We just did what we had to." He hung his head, sorry they'd frightened everyone. "Was Newlyn's father angry with us? I know we were told to stay where we were playing, but it was going to get dark and Rytan threw the ball into the woods. We just went to look for it," he explained.
"It's alright, Gavin. We understand you didn't mean for Newlyn to get injured." Awel poured Gavin another cup of tea and sat back to listen. "Go ahead, what happened after Newlyn fell?"
"I lit the signal fire to bring help, and Gwydion made an illusion of us being a wood pile to hide us until you came, since Llygoden said people were watching us again. Then we tried to heal Newlyn…," Gavin explained, tears coming to his eyes as he remembered how frightened he'd been. "It didn't work real well and pretty soon we were too tired to cast any more healing spells. Newlyn stopped breathing, and nobody had found us yet," he choked back a sob. "…so we called the Lord and Lady."
"The Lord and Lady answered you?" Dylluan asked cautiously.
Gavin looked at him with an odd expression. "Of course they did. Newlyn was dying, and we couldn't heal him ourselves."
"He just doesn't understand how unusual it is for the Lord and Lady to answer a plea without the proper invocations and sacrifices," Dylluan whispered to Myrddin as Gavin ate another piece of apple, more interested in how hungry he was than what the adults were saying.
"What Dylluan means, is how did you call them?" Myrddin asked when Gavin had swallowed his apple. He was curious himself as to how the twins had gained the God and Goddess's help.
"We put our hands on Newlyn, and asked the Lord and Lady to heal him. Then we all went to where they stay and we talked to them for a little while, and they said they would heal him," Gavin explained matter of factualy. "Then they did, and sent us back. We were real tired though, so we went to sleep until you found us."
"You talk to them, like you're talking to me now?" Dylluan asked with a shocked expression on his face.
Gavin gave him another odd look. "Yes…don't you?" All Dylluan could do was shake his head weakly. He'd known that avatar's interacted with the Lord and Lady differently than other priests, but there was very little in the history's concerning them. He hadn't known they actually stood face to face and spoke to them. "The Lady says that when we get older we won't have to go to see them every time we want to talk, because they'll just be able to talk to us in our heads. I guess she meant like she talks to you?"
"No, Gavin. I think you and Gwydion have a special relationship with them," he rephrased his answer when Gavin looked confused. "I mean, I think they like you better," Myrddin replied with a smile. "I think Dylluan will explain it all to you someday."
"Oh, alright," Gavin replied, stuffing another piece of nut bread into his mouth and chewing quickly.
Gwydion and Newlyn woke a few hours later, none the worse for their experience, except that both were extremely hungry. Newlyn seemed to have no bad effects from his near death experience, although he got a dazed expression every once in awhile as if he were listening to something nobody else could hear. Eventually the elders of his herd would discover his abilities as a seer had awakened.
Life went on as usual through the fall and winter of the twin's fifth year. The boy's continued with their lessons, visiting the centaurs whenever the weather permitted. On one of their midwinter visits the brothers were met by the entire herd wearing their best ornaments, with tails braided with colorful ribbons.
Newlyn's father had petitioned the Centaur elders on the twin's behalf, and so they gained their third rune, a simple one of a squared off oval with two lines crossed on a diagonal inside of it, in recognition of their saving his foal's life at risk of their own. It seems the herd had learned how close the twins had come to exhausting their magic to the point of death in their efforts to save Newlyn. This rune was granted to very few outsiders; it was the one the centaurs used to identify someone who has officially been accepted into a herd. Anyone with this rune was guaranteed acceptance and sanctuary within any centaur herd.
An interesting opportunity came to the twins just before the spring equinox. Llygoden was asked to escort a pack train of urgently needed potion supplies to the Goblins. They'd had a flood in one of their lower levels and it destroyed one of their warehouses. They didn't have enough of some critical potion ingredients to last until others could be harvested. Myrddin decided it was a good opportunity to introduce the boys to another of the races who shared their world.
The trip from Oakwood Grove to the Goblin clan had taken most of the day, since they had loaded packhorses with them. The river and creeks had been high, and crossings had taken more time than expected. It was getting dark and it had started to rain heavily just before they reached the safety of the cave, so the goblin elders had invited them to stay over until the next morning instead of camping outside like they'd intended.
"Now remember boys, be polite. I know you don't know much Gobbledygook, but you can at least say hello when you are introduced," Llygoden reminded the awestruck youngsters. They had just entered the main tunnel of the Goblin clan, and were waiting to greet the Goblin elders. The boys were gazing open mouthed at the intricately carved rock columns supporting the roof. Each column seemed to tell a story, and soon the boys were following one as it wound around and around one of the columns in a spiral.
"This is amazing," Gwydion whispered to his brother, reaching out to run his fingers over a detailed picture of a goblin warrior. "This really happened. I remember Dylluan reading us this story."
"Yes, they were so brave. They had to protect their home from giants, and so many of them died," Gavin said sadly. "It isn't fair they had to fight giants all by themselves. Somebody ought to have helped them."
"If they have to fight giants again, we can help them Gavin," Gwydion promised, unaware that they were being observed from the shadows. "It's not right for people to treat the Goblins badly, just because they're smaller than we are." The observers were surprised when they heard that. Most elves considered Goblins a necessary evil at best – only tolerated because of the metalwork they traded.
"Who are the children, Grapwick?" A scarred goblin in armor of a silvery metal asked a younger one quietly. He'd seen the runes on the children's faces and thought that they were the ones the seers had sent him to speak with, but he wanted confirmation.
"They are the grandsons of the dark haired elf, Clan Leader Ripthroat" the younger goblin replied. "They are named Gavin and Gwydion, and their elder is the Mage Myrddin." He'd been guarding the entrance to the tunnel when the group of elves entered, so he'd gotten an introduction while the elves waited for a superior to arrive to guide them to their quarters for the night.
"Pass the word that I want an opportunity to speak with them quietly, but without their escort, before they leave," the Goblin leader ordered. "I would like to learn more about them while they are here."
The potion ingredients had been delivered to the Goblin healers, deep in the safest section of the tunnels, and the small group was climbing towards the upper levels. Gavin and Gwydion had been asking their guide questions non-stop, and surprisingly enough considering how close mouthed and secretive goblins normally were, he was answering.
"Ripthroat, do all the Goblins live in Cymru?" Gwydion asked, curious about something he'd read in one of the history books Dylluan had given them to study. "Are there goblins in the human world?"
"Yes, there was one clan that left Cymru over a thousand years ago for the human world. They built a series of banks, and hold the gold of the wizarding world safe, although they aren't liked by most wizards." Ripthroat snorted at the foolishness of humans. Entrusting your gold to someone you despise and mistrust was the height of stupidity as far as he was concerned. "We still communicate with them, although it's difficult sometimes." It was difficult because the elves controlled the World Gates, he thought resentfully.
"I don't know why they don't like Goblins, but I have read it is so," Gavin said sadly. "I think your people deserve honor for what you do."
"Can you tell us how you live here? There is no sun, how do you grow food?" Gwydion asked. "How do you get your names, and are you married?"
Gavin added several more questions before Ripthroat could even answer the first few Gwydion had asked, and all three of them ended up laughing about it. He was amazed at the number of questions the boys were asking; it seemed they wanted to know who the Goblins were, not just what they had to offer the elves in trade.
"You are truly interested in learning how we live, young ones?" Ripthroat asked in surprise. Both boys bowed quickly and grinned, showing all their teeth in the goblin manner.
"Yes, honored elder. We wish to learn all that you would teach us," the boys answered in accented, but accurate, Gobbledygook.
The overnight stay ended up being extended for a week, then two more, and still the boys asked questions. Now though, they were asked in polite Gobbledygook, and they began with 'can you show me' instead of 'can you tell me' and usually, to Myrddin's astonishment, the goblins did.
Finally, the visit drew to an end and the group stood at the tunnel exit, blinking slightly at the bright morning sun, something they were unaccustomed to after three weeks underground.
Gavin and Gwydion waited until their elders had said their farewells and started out into the sunlight before they approached Ripthroat, who they had eventually learned was the Leader of the Goblin clan.
"Honored elder, we thank you for the opportunity to learn at your feet," both boys stated, bowing low in front of the goblin. "We ask you to accept a gift, as a token of thanks for your words of wisdom." One of the things the boys had learned during their visit was basic metal crafting, not enough to make a knife or sword, but sufficient to make a simple bracelet. They had worked for nearly a week to make a set of bracelets out of twisted silver wire which they had braided into never ending knots. At nearly two inches across they were more like wrist guards to a goblin. "Please accept this unworthy gift in the spirit it is meant," they held the two bracelets out to Ripthroat, and he reached for them, his eyes wide. The bracelets, while of simple design, were carefully made, and glowed with magic to the goblin's mage sight; all of it matching the boy's magical signatures so he had no doubt they had done it themselves. There were protective spells, spells for stamina and health, and charms to warn of danger…all twisted and woven into the metal, much as the metal itself was twisted and woven together to form the bracelets. Each twist reinforced the magic and strengthened the protections.
"You crafted these for me?" Ripthroat carefully placed the bracelets on his wrists then bowed low to the boys in return. Goblins were seldom offered artifacts imbued with Elvin magic, so this was a splendid gift, especially since it had been made specifically for him. "I am honored by your gift," he said. "You are welcome in my home, should you wish to return. Safe journey, little ones."
Myrddin brought the boys back to visit the Goblin clan several more times before their sixth birthday, and each time they were received warmly, and needless to say, their Gobbledygook improved each time as well.
AN – The rune the boys get from the Centaur's is a melding of the rune Ingwaz, representing the Earth god and the values of family love, caring, and the home, joined with Gebo, representing a gift, both in the sense of sacrifice and of generosity, and indicating balance. It shows an even exchange, or partnership between equals.