On with the show.
Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts, the Great Hall.
Minerva McGonagall thought of herself as an unflappable woman, she had lived through two wars, worked as an unspeakable for the Ministry, taught at her alma mater for the better part of thirty years, loved and lost a husband and most of her brothers, and sisters. She had stood tall and strong in the face of adversity time and again, and would bravely do so once more if called upon. She could look over her life and point out every triumph and mistake with a proud look on her face because she knew if she hadn't tried her best, she was damn sure she had learned from it.
But when a few months ago she approach her long-time friend, boss, and colleague to ask the man about how one of her best and favorite students had gotten his hands on a weapon long thought a myth, she could scarcely believe the answer that came out of the man's mouth, the myths and Gods of a time long past were not only real but still walked the world and that Harry Potter was a child of one of them. Albus had gone on to explain a few things about the boy that put fewer of the odder things about the boy into the picture for her, they seemed to fall into place like a puzzle she was missing a few key pieces to and now had.
She had watched over the boy and taught him the same way she had taught his father, but she didn't pry, and other than the question about the Gaé Bolg, she didn't anymore. She had lost that right a long time ago, so she had accepted it and moved on to showing the boy Battle Magic and her methods of using it, passing them down to Harry with hopes that one day it would save his life. And Through every task, Harry utilized her teachings to overcome every obstacle and surpassed every expectation that anyone had about the boy. She couldn't help but feel the burning core of pride she had for Harry, she could still feel the cheer that had torn from her throat when she had seen the boy with the Triwizard cup turned to growing horror as he collapsed to the ground broken and bleeding, to the cold rage that the Ministry would deface and slander the boy over telling them a hard dark truth they didn't want to hear.
That Lord Voldemort had seemingly risen from the dead.
If she was any less than the woman her life had forged, her knees would have buckled and her heart surely would have been gripped in terror, but she wasn't a lion for nothing. She would face the dark days ahead with her head held high and proud, and if push came to shove, they would hear her roar.
But for all of that lay ahead of her, for now, she was on her way to the Great Hall for some reason or another at an ungodly hour in the morning, she was walking down the steps when she first heard the loud and angry voice of her colleague.
"Have you lost the rest of your marbles, Albus!?" the angry voice of Severus Snape echoes throughout the halls that have been free from students for the last four weeks.
"I assure you, Severus,-" Minerva hears the Headmaster say with a sigh, "-I've never had any, to begin with," he finishes and she can't help the unladylike eye roll that follows and the unworded agreement she feels with his words as she finally crosses the threshold of the Great Hall and frowns at what she sees. The table and chairs of each of the houses vanished and a large runic circle was carved in the middle of the floor, a great thing consisting of five circles, one outer circle that held three smaller ones and an inner one where a large slate stone bowl sat, filled with an offering for something, Minerva frowns at the sight before her attention is drawn to the two-man arguing in the Hall.
"Thank Merlin, someone with a lick of sanity," Severus spits out when he sees her walk into the Hall, "Minerva, help me talk some sense into the blithering old fools head," he says angrily before gesturing at the Headmaster, and if it was still the school year she would have twisted the man's ear off for the blatant disrespect he was showing, but the students were gone and the man had a point, Ablus could be a blithering idiot at times.
"What in the Witch-Father's Mace have you two arguing like a pair of drunk fools at a quarter till midnight, and pray tell Albus,-" she says turning to the older of the two, "-why you feel the need to drag me into it?" she asks, letting her accent slip deeper into Scottish to show the man how displease she was to be awake at such a late hour.
"My apologies, Minerva, but I require a little assistance with something, and your help would be greatly appreciated," Albus says with a soft smile, but the normal twinkle in his eye was gone as if the last few weeks have weighed heavily on him.
"Now you're calling a blood sacrifice to summon one of those, …things-" Severus spits the word with disgust and hate, "-a Little Assistance?" the dark man says with a scuff before waving his hand at Albus as if he was dismissing a phantom before turning on his heel and begins to pace, Minerva could see the tremble in his hands, the pained twitch in his face every time he took a limping step reminding her of how Severus looked when he returned to the castle not even a week ago. Covered In his own blood, twitching, and spasming from the after-effects of the cruciatus curse and the torture he had faced at the Dark Lords' hands, he didn't say what he had to endure and Minerva was about to ask the man to relive the horrors he faced to do his duty to both the Order and Hogwarts and he certainly didn't volunteer to share.
Minerva turns away from her one-time student to look at the Headmaster, "What thing is he talking about, Albus?" she asks, sounding just as short of patience as she felt.
"He speaks of a God, Minerva," Albus says in complete seriousness as he looks at her, "Though, I am not summoning one, I'm freeing one," he tells her, causing Minerva to blink at him with a look of shock on her face.
"Oh, no, that's much sodding better," Severus says, voice thick with sarcasm with a sneer painted on his face as he turns to look at the Headmaster.
"Which one?" Minerva asks curiously, causing Severus to whip around to look at her with a look of suspicion and betrayal on his face.
"You can not-" The Potion Master begins to say before the Headmaster cuts him off.
"The same one that gave Harry the Gaé Bolg," Dumbledore says, causing Minerva to pause before she slowly begins to shake her head, not understanding.
"Why her?" Minerva asks with narrowing eyes, "Why Hogwarts?" she asks as Severus begins to look between the both of them feeling left out of something as Albus speaks once more.
"I have recently discovered that Hogwarts, was not always called Hogwarts, nor was it the first castle to be built on this very spot," He says solemnly, looking his Deputy headmistress in the eye, freezing her in place.
"Dún Scaith," Minerva says in a whisper, shocked at the revelation as Albus nods his head.
"This castle was built on the very bones of it," The Headmaster says, as Severus finally speaks up.
"Would you like to share with the rest of the class on what the bloody hell is Dún Scáith?" The dark man says with a scowl.
"The fortress of shadow from Celtic myth, it was a school, one that had taught Cú Chulainn among other heroes by, by a goddess by the name of Scáthach," Minerva explains breathlessly, she had grown up on the legends and stories of the Celtic heroes like Cú Chulainn and Fionn Mac Cumhaill, but never once had it cross her mind that Hogwarts, her home, was the same castle as the fortress of Scáthach.
Severus turns back to Albus, the scowl never leaving his face, "And I'm guessing it is this Scáthach you want to free?" he asks and Albus simply nods his head.
"Why?" Snape growls out and Minerva turns to look at Dumbledore as well, wanting to hear his reason for this as well.
Albus sighs before speaking, "For insurance, with the Ministry denying the enemy's return and stripping me of both my roles within both the ICW and the Wizengamot we are limited on how we can both act and react," He explains to both of his long time colleagues and trusted friends, "But if we were to free Scáthach we would be able to breathe a lot more easily knowing, for a fact, that both the students and the castle are protected from any threats to them," he says, looking between both Severus and Minerva with pleading eyes.
"And what makes you think one of those things would listen to any of us, let alone you, Albus?" Severus asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Because I plan on making her an offer she can't refuse," Dumbledore says, squaring his shoulders and standing straighter, "You both have trusted me over the years to do what needs to be done for this castle, for this country, and most importantly, for the students," he says looking between both of them once more, "I'm asking you for you two to trust me one more time," he says to both of them. Both Minerva and Severus look at one another with skepticism dancing in their eyes, but as one they both sigh.
"As always, Headmaster, I am at your service," Minerva says with a sigh as she throws up her hands, "What do you need of me?" she asks before Albus looks over to a scowling Severus, the man's dark eyes burning a hole in Albus' head.
"I swear, if this backfires Albus when we get to whatever hell we are going to, I will kill you," Severus says, dropping his hands to his sides as Dumbledore smiles at him.
"Excellent, all I need you two to do is draw a drop of blood and let it fall into the circle you will be standing in when I do," Albus tells them before pointing out where both of them would stand in the larger circles, Minerva to his left and Severus to his right. Both Minerva and Severus move to each of the circles beside the Headmaster before he draws his wand and with a flick of it, dims the torches and candles.
Then he begins to chant in Gaelic.
"By three they come, to a castle in shadows shadow,"
"By three they come, before the empty throne,"
"By three they come, bearing the crown, the shield, the dagger,"
Dumbledore nods to the other two before drawing his wand across the palm of his hand and drawing crimson from his veins, letting it pour from his hand and into the craved pathways on the floor. Minerva winces as she does the same as Severus but he doesn't bat an eye when he does it, the blood drips from their palms into the stone filling the pathways just as the shadows around them grow thicker and begin to crawl toward the center of the circle as the pathways become alight with a red haze.
"By three they come, to draw up shackle and key,"
"By three they come, lighting the way,"
"And with the blood of shacklers, the three will show her the way,"
As the shadows dance in the hazy red light, they begin to bubble and twist becoming more tangible than once before as they begin to fill the blow. Dumbledore reaches into his pocket and pulls out a simple glass vial before he levitates it over the bowl and with a flick of his wand splits it in two, allowing the single drop of blood that had once powered a ward to fall free and ignites the blow in black fire. Minerva and Severus take a step back from the flames as they begin to swell and dance.
"And by three, they open the way home!"
The flames pause, just for a moment as if listening to the order and shooting straight up into the air, crashing against the ceiling. They look out and see the shadows pulling the enchantment of stars back to reveal…
A woman in a purple gown fit for a queen, she was laying on her back with her eyes closed as if she had simply fallen into an enchanted sleep on the crystal floor of a grand ballroom. Her auburn hair spilled out like a halo around her head as her hands lay on her stomach and she was beautiful with pale skin and full red lips, but Dumbledore did not stop, his resolve cemented long ago.
"Scáithanna, Scáithanna, Scáithanna!"
The old Headmaster calls out, and the figure laying in her castle of crystal and fantasy opens her eyes as if awakened by his call. She looked surprised at first then hope and relief blossomed in her eyes as she pushes herself up and a smile crawls across her face just before she falls toward them. The tip of her shoe touches the barrier that separates her from them just before they watch it crack and fall apart in large pieces, and as Minerva and Severus bring their wands forward to protect themselves, they watch as the crystal that fell breaks down into motes of lights that covered every color of the rainbow as the woman descends into the great hall.
"By three we have come, to show you the way…"
As Dumbledore speaks the last part of the chant, he begins to kneel, holding out his hand to accept the goddess into the physical world once more. She hovers for a moment, her hand extending, accepting the hand of her kneeling subject, and as she does her feet finally touch the floor.
"Home," Dumbledore says softly as he bows his head to the goddess now standing before him as the shadows around them die down, and light shines in the great hall once more.
She doesn't say a thing, nor does she look at the mortals that surround her, her eyes were only for the castle. She looked around the Great Hall, relief and disbelief dancing in her eyes in equal measure as she lets go of the Headmaster's hand as she steps forward, and turned around and around again to look over the hall as tears begin to gather in her eyes and she lets out a shuddering breath before she covers her mouth, her composer crumbling under the building emotions in her. For it was one thing to hear about it, to be told that the school she had built so long ago still stood strong and proud, but it was another thing entirely to stand within the halls of it once more.
The gathered teachers turn and watch her as she steps to the edge of the circle, eyeing it with a tiny bit of fear as if as soon as she stepped beyond it she would be snapped back to the prison that was her home for almost two thousand years, alone and heartbroken once more. She lifts her foot and takes a deep breath, readying herself for what was to come, what could come, and what will come, and takes her first step out of the circle and into the castle.
And the castle sings!
The ancient wards both mortal and divine felt her at once, they bundled and twisted, they danced and sang, and the power of the castle that was seeped into the very cornerstones of the castle called out and rejoiced in elation. The wards ripped themselves free from those who had thought to control it, thought that they were its protectors, and gave control over to the very soul that laid the foundation for its construction so long ago. The Professor flinch as they feel the wards ripped from their control to coil and tether themselves to the goddess, and as she feels her castle, her home, welcome her back with open arms and the very song of magic, Scáthach let the tears slip down her face.
For finally…
After two thousand years…
The Queen had finally returned home…
Scáthach had finally returned…to Dún Scáith.
She wipes the tears from her eyes before turning to the gathered Professors in her home, in her school, and speaks.
"What took you so long," Scáthach says softly as she folds her hands behind her back, standing tall, proud, and free, "Albus Dumbledore?" She says the Headmaster's name as if she had known him all his life, and considering where he stood, she probably did, "And where is my student?" she follows up with a smirk.
The World
…The image morphs into one of three Wixen dressed in robes, heads bowed in respect, offering a crown, a shield, and a dagger to a woman standing just beyond a door that leads into a great hall, …
Three…
