Phineas Black and the Horned Abomination
Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black stared at the beast and the beast gazed placidly back. The astronomy tower had expanded magically to accommodate its considerable bulk, but in spite of that, its enormous feathered rump was pressed against the barrier and one of its forelegs was hanging over the edge. Phineas closed his eyes, gave his head a quick shake, and opened them again. The beast was still there. It gave a gentle snort and peered at him over its horn.
"Astonishing," Professor Dumbledore smiled, and Headmaster Black shot him a glare.
They were standing on the parapet, broomsticks in hand, having been forced to fly up to the tower since the creature was blocking the staircase.
The thing was about the size of a young Swedish Short-snout and was decidedly reptilian in appearance, though it was covered in soft golden feathers. There was some sort of bony ridge around its neck, rather like the stiff collars that had been fashionable when the Headmaster was a boy. Two deadly-looking horns protruded over its eyes, and a third near its mouth, which rather resembled a beak. Fortunately, it was not breathing fire and seemed to be of a placid temperament.
And the boy responsible for the whole mess was happily perched on the beast's horned snout, feeding it handfuls of hay as if it were a pet pony.
"Mr. Scamander," Headmaster Black said through gritted teeth, "would you kindly explain why there is a large, flightless dragon atop the astronomy tower?"
The boy mumbled something without looking up.
"Speak up, boy! And look at me when you're speaking to me!"
Reluctantly, the boy tore his gaze away from the creature and addressed the Headmaster's shoes. "It's not a dragon, it's a dinosaur. Triceratops prorsus, to be precise. They're quite different from dragons, sir. They're entirely non-magical, not to mention extinct – "
"What?" The Headmaster stared at him. "What do you mean, extinct?"
Scamander sighed. "Extinct, sir, means that a species has no more living members."
"I know what the word means!" Headmaster Black snapped. "If there are no more living members, then what in Merlin's name is this one doing here?"
"Oh." Scamander blinked owlishly. "Well, you see, sir, I made it."
"You did what?"
Dumbledore hopped off the parapet and patted the creature's horn, his eyes bright with interest. "That is a very impressive feat of transfiguration, Mr. Scamander – to transfigure such a large animal without having seen a living specimen."
The Headmaster frowned. Dumbledore, as usual was completely missing the point.
"I didn't transfigure it, sir," Newt said. "I used Polyjuice, with an owl as the starting point. Dinosaurs may look reptilian, but in fact they're much more closely related to birds. Anyway, he flew away before the polyjuice could take effect, which is how he ended up here."
Dumbledore smiled. "I suppose that would also explain why this handsome fellow is covered in feathers."
"No, sir. I think the dinosaur was like that naturally."
Dumbledore gave Scamander a look of mild bemusement. "My dear boy," he said, "it is common knowledge that dinosaurs had scales."
"That's what the Muggles think," Scamander said stubbornly. Dumbledore opened his mouth to protest, but Headmaster Black decided that this had gone on long enough.
"Mr. Scamander," he said sternly, "I really think – "
"What did you put in the Polyjuice?" Dumbledore asked as if he had not spoken. "Did you use bone?"
"I tried that," Scamander said. "Only, most fossils don't contain any of the original osseous tissue. It's all been converted to inorganic mineral compounds as part of the fossilization process. So they're not a viable sample for Polyjuice potion."
Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, of course."
Headmaster Black glanced between them, perplexed. "What does that mean?"
Scamander looked at Dumbledore for help.
"What the boy means," Dumbledore said, "is that any surviving bones have been chemically converted – that's a sort of non-magical transfiguration – into stone. And naturally, one cannot put stone in a Polyjuice potion."
The Headmaster frowned. Non-magical transfiguration? What a ridiculous notion.
"What did you use instead?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Oh, that bit's quite interesting." Scamander had lost most of his shyness, though he still would not make eye contact. "You see, insects are some of the oldest creatures in the world. Older than dinosaurs, even. And millions of years ago, when the dinosaurs were still alive, there were lots of mosquitoes and biting insects that fed on them. Most of them died and rotted away, of course, but some landed on trees and got stuck in bits of sap, which hardened over time and became amber. Of course, then I had to dissolve the amber and leave the insects intact, which took some doing, and then Summon the dinosaur blood out of the insects' stomach. And after that, all I had to do was put a little replication charm on the blood so I'd have enough to use in the Polyjuice, and that was that."
"Remarkable!" Dumbledore was staring at the boy as though he were an absolute marvel rather than the perpetrator of quite possibly the most ridiculous stunt Hogwarts had ever seen. "
"Mr. Scamander!" the Headmaster snapped. The dinosaur narrowed its eyes at him, and he glared back at it and lowered his voice. "Mr. Scamander, I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation. For one thing, you are a third-year student. What possessed you to brew polyjuice potion unsupervised? That potion is incredibly dangerous – "
"Well, I wouldn't give it to the owl just like that!" Newt said indignantly. "I tried a bit myself, first – "
"Not to mention the damage that this creature might have caused!" The Headmaster gave the boy his most imperious stare. "Did you consider that at all, before undertaking this venture?"
"It's not as though he's dangerous," Scamander protested, placing his arms protectively around the creature's horn. "He's herbivorous. A velociraptor mongoliensis, now, that could cause some damage – "
"That will do, Mr. Scamander," said Dumbledore quickly. "The Headmaster is quite right, you did not adequately think this through. Allowing the owl to escape was a serious oversight. This tower will need to be closed to be inspected for structural damage. And suppose it had transformed in midair?"
Headmaster Black suppressed a shudder at the thought. He was rather relieved that Dumbledore had, for once, decided to take a reasonable view on things.
"Which is why we must discuss the matter of consequences," said Dumbledore sternly. "You will have detention under my supervision four evenings a week for the next month. You will conduct a thorough literature review to support your theory on animal-to-animal Polyjuice transformations. You will standardize and document your methodology for blood extraction and replication, and confirm that the procedure is reproducible under controlled conditions. Furthermore, you will prepare a report explaining your findings. I expect a minimum of ten academic sources and an appropriately organized bibliography. Furthermore," Dumbledore continued, "you will clean up all the droppings that your creature has left in the astronomy tower, and write a letter of apology to the Astronomy professor for disrupting his classes. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Scamander?"
"Yes, Professor Dumbledore." Scamander looked stunned, and even Headmaster Black was a bit taken aback. He'd thought to have the boy scrubbing out cauldrons.
"Really, Albus," he said quietly. "Don't you think that's a bit much? The boy is only in his third year."
"Youth does not excuse shoddy scholarship," Dumbledore said gravely, fixing the Headmaster with his steely blue gaze. "If Mr. Scamander wishes to brew experimental potions, he must be held to the same standards as any other researcher."
"Ah – yes, of course, quite right," stammered Headmaster Black, feeling a bit like a dissected specimen under that stare. Professor Dumbledore was a charming fellow, but there was a certain look that he got at times that made one wonder exactly what he would become. Surely a man such as that would not be content to grade student papers for the rest of his life.
"Very well," he said. "Mr. Scamander, you will report to Professor Dumbledore for your detentions. How much time is left on that Polyjuice?"
The boy checked his pocket watch. "About ten minutes now, sir."
Headmaster Black suppressed a sigh of relief. "Good. Please remain here and secure the owl once it regains its regular form. Albus," he said, turning to the Transfiguration professor, "may I ask you to wait with the boy in case of any…complications?"
"Certainly," said Dumbledore, beaming as if he would enjoy nothing more than supervising a ten-tonne lizard.
"Thank you," said the Headmaster, and left the astronomy tower before anything else could happen.
Newt watched as the Headmaster flew down from the tower. Professor Dumbledore remained, ruffling the feathers on the creature's snout.
Newt glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, thinking hard. The punishment hadn't been what he was expecting. In fact, it was hardly a punishment at all.
"Professor," he said, "what you said before, about 'reproducing the procedure under controlled conditions', did you mean – " he swallowed. "Did you mean that you want me to make more dinosaurs?"
"Well, an experiment is hardly worth much if it cannot be repeated," said Professor Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "And while this fellow is a little on the large side, I think a nice little aquilops americanus couldn't hurt. Don't you agree?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Excellent." Dumbledore smiled. "Oh, and Mr. Scamander? If you do good work on your report, we might just see about getting it submitted to the Journal of Magizoology."
