Take Eight: Rules (And the Importance of the Rule Book)
It was a September Wednesday, a day just as wet and dreary as yesterday's Tuesday. However, there was a marked difference in where it started. Instead of wandering the hallways much like a lonely black sheep, he entered and lingered near the entrance of the Headmaster's office for the preordained afternoon (actually, brunch) tea. Without a word, he positioned himself against a wall directly across from the wizard reading the Daily Prophet.
Tick-TOCK. Tick-TOCK. Tick-TOCK.
Current state of affairs outside included lightning-bearing clouds and precipitation. From the view presented by the lattice window, he concluded that the amount of water outside was bordering Water Country levels. Far off near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he could see the Keeper of the Key's hut, a flickering light within the confines of the building.
Pocketing his hands, he brushed the folded note crumpled in his left pocket. Dumbledore's tea invitation rested uncomfortably against his thigh as one of its folded edges poked him time and time again whenever he shifted his position. Naturally, he didn't show his discomfort; rather, he invested his energies into thinking.
Now why would Professor McGonagall transfigure the parchment paper so that whenever it was folded, the edges would be extra hard and angular?
The elderly wizard sitting behind his desk peered at him as he set down his newspaper to grab his floral-decorated tea cup by the ear. He returned the blue-eyed stare and after a tense moment, Dumbledore saluted him with his chinaware.
As a good little shinobi of Leaf, he nodded in acknowledgement. Nevertheless, with a healthy dose of cynicism, he continued his previous train of thought and pondered. Maybe it wasn'tMcGonagall and instead Dumbledore secretly yanking his proverbial chain to tell him off.
Bad dog.
But what did he do to warrant that…?
Head tilted backwards, Kakashi snorted, quickly dismissing his ridiculous notions since such a spiteful, harming action did not pattern with his observations of the man. What he really needed to do instead of entertaining silly thoughts was to defeat his insomnia and take a nap after this meeting to chase away his paranoia.
(He still dreamt about open grand hallways and locked double doors and blood and swirling shadows and piles of books upon books upon books-)
The sound of fine bone china clinking lightly on a dish echoed hollowly in the room. Licking his dry lips at the sight of the Earl Grey tea, he shifted again as Dumbledore stared at him knowingly. Perhaps he really was growing soft as an inactive shinobi if he could let such a small annoyance, like a piece of paper continuously prodding his skin, bother him.
A sigh followed the restless twitch. The phoenix perched on the roost by his shoulder appeared to think him interesting as clever, wise, gleaming eyes examined him.
Fawkes trilled softly. "Drroo?"
Kakashi pursed his lips behind the eggplant purple scarf, black eyebrows contracting downwards. A single grey eye gazed at the mythical bird, taking note of the lovely vibrant red plumage veined with phosphorescent fire.
The symbol of eternity must have seen something in him because the avian creature shuffled even closer to his shoulder, whistling softly when his feathers brushed the ninja's shoulder.
Dumbledore watched the exchange with interest and finally addressed the man loitering in his office. "It seems, my shinobi friend, that Fawkes is concerned."
"I'm fine." The jounin brushed back his ill-fitting scraggly black hair, a bit embarrassed by the attention.
"Please. Take a seat," said Dumbledore, waving a hand towards a bright yellow chair across from his desk. "I feel uncomfortable having my guest stand during tea."
Kakashi read behind his words, fishing out the real tone in the meaning. Sit boy. He resisted sniping back with a rude 'yes sir' by reminding himself that Dumbledore wasn't an enemy.
No. It was the entire situation that was the enemy and the fact that his month and a half of research wasn't research at all. There was a vast amount of basic material that he had yet to learn and this information was essential in understanding the more refined and detailed aspects of wizarding knowledge. Honestly, he made good headway through the materials but he estimated that he needed at least a few more weeks before he could really start researching.
It also didn't help knowing that the 'Mangekyou Sharingan' would most likely never be found in these books or be referred to as such if the author of the book somehow miraculously escaped a beheading by the Uchiha clan and Konoha ANBU. Clan secrets tended to stay with the clan, which was the main reason why he was still struggling to puzzle out the elusive ability.
Dumbledore poured a second cup of tea and pushed it towards Kakashi. Steam and aroma drifted enticingly from the china cup and the shinobi finally relented and took his seat.
The grandfatherly old man was by no means senile as he was eccentric. After reminding the shinobi of several ground rules that also appeared in the initial mission scroll – including 'No destructive ninja arts on school ground' – Dumbledore took a long draught from his tea.
His hired shinobi had, understandably, retained the expression of a rock during the conversation. There were no emotional changes whatsoever when he reaffirmed the conditions to the mission parameters.
Kakashi never forgot the boundaries. Never forgot the rules. Dumbledore approved.
He knew that most ninja associated with villages were honour-bound folk with a strong sense of mission loyalties. He also knew that the elite ninja were strong – strong in character and in their beliefs – and because of this, political disagreements often led to strife across the lands. And so the Hidden Nations, for all their true and fake togetherness in clan and village factions, was a place where normal wizards didn't trespass due to the risk of involvement in these large scale conflicts and wars. Even Voldemort during his violent power struggle and reign did not tap into this 'resource' because he viewed them as 'half-breed, barbaric mudbloods with no concept of finesse'. He also thought that they were already doing a fine job killing themselves off with wars.
But the Headmaster thought differently from the wizarding population. He harmlessly kept track of the Elemental Countries with curious eyes, watching their societies rise and fall, exist and die. Contacts told him what he needed to know and a magical chrysalis ball visually detailed the rest.
So imagine his surprise when he realized that, no, he was never the only one watching; he was also being watched.
When the Godaime Hokage of Konohagakure took her place as leader, she informed him kindly by the way of hawk that her ANBU Hunters and Interrogators captured one of his contacts five months back and could you please explain this inordinate collection of miscellaneous information.
In other words, why are you collecting crap information about us that's absolutely useless to you and me?
Dumbledore obliged by the way of phoenix and gave her a carefully worded note that could be summarized by a sentence: the Hidden Nations are fascinating so humour the harmless old coot.
Shrewd, Tsunade-sama, as she liked to be addressed, responded with an interesting proposal. I will as long as I could send someone of my choice to examine your culture and take notes too. Otherwise.
There was perfect understanding in what that otherwise meant. For the greater good of collecting knowledge, Dumbledore reluctantly agreed and a false mission was penned out, signed by both parties. The 'mission' detailed that the client needed one person to inspire teamwork and unity onto the students for the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. Dumbledore mused that this, perhaps, worked out quite well. Not only would his students have a better appreciation of each other, but because of the high frequency of unfortunate events that are usually associated with this tournament, he could garner a second opinion on situations from the point of view of a ninja. It also helped his cause further when Tsunade decided to send an experienced shinobi, a man he could observe and hopefully learn from.
In turn, Dumbledore was to give a standard A-rank mission fee as well as to bestow full hospitality to her shinobi and allow him to research to his heart's content.
(Tsunade was not lying when she said that this was arranged for Kakashi's benefit too.)
The renowned medic also warned that regular missions would be issued to her soldier and it would be best not to be involved. Dumbledore understood the quiet threat and promised not to snoop if they promised not to implicate or harm his students and contacts. Tsunade readily agreed to this, as civilians – even ones with magical powers – were not on their hit lists. Of course, she then offhandedly mentioned that it would be nice not to drag her shinobi into the political mire of magical society, which seemed impossible for Dumbledore now. He couldn't stop the Ministry from their meddling but at least Kakashi was handling the situation well – better than expected, even.
(In all actuality, Tsunade wasn't 'protecting' Kakashi from the politicians; it was the other way around. Even she heard of his infamous incident in the Land of Lightning and she wasn't anywhere near Lightning or Konoha at the time but in the back of a smoky gambling den out in Wave…)
Setting down his tea cup, Dumbledore asked brightly, "Do you have any questions?"
"No." It was a brisk answer.
There was brief peace when the Headmaster took a drink before he asked kindly, "And your arm…?" Dumbledore stared at the livid bruise on his companion's forehead a bit longer than necessary.
The single grey eye seemed to flicker, giving him a plain look. A brittle humour was in his voice as he shrugged. "I've had much worse."
Stroking his white beard, Dumbledore leaned back in his seat. "That wound was for one of your missions, wasn't it?"
The carefully blank look told the Headmaster all he needed to know.
"Yes, I am aware, Mr. Hatake, of what goes on within these ancient castle walls and on the school grounds." With his rested fingers, Dumbledore tapped a few bars of Vivaldi L'estate movement three on the arm of his chair. "But enough of that! How has your planning been?"
Kakashi sat loosely in his seat, legs crossed at his ankles. "On-going."
"Will I need to prepare for another riot?" asked Dumbledore serenely.
"Maybe." The shinobi seemed to pause before 'smiling'. "Professor, I'm sure you're aware that I don't like tradition much…"
"Untraditional and unorthodox," mumbled the elder wizard, eyes bright with laughter. "I hope what you are planning is interesting for the students."
"…I don't know about that."
"Now you're just being modest, Mr. Hatake."
Slouching further in his seat, he hummed. "I wouldn't call the plan interesting. The students will be the fascinating subjects though."
"And you've been studying them since the sorting ceremony."
"I have."
Dumbledore sipped his tea and spoke candidly over the rim, "Well Mr. Hatake, I think you would be interested in knowing that Minerva has a class this morning with a group of promising Ravenclaw third years."
Kakashi raised a careful eyebrow but all the same bobbed his head in acknowledgement of the implication. The Headmaster knew that Minerva, if she ever found out that he had set Hatake up against her, would be most unimpressed.
(Sometimes, Dumbledore wondered. If not him, who did the staff think aided Kakashi in his initial 'quest for acceptance'?)
Yes, old man Dumbledore was by no means senile as he was eccentric. He had a streak of abnormal amusement in planting challenges for his trusted staff to overcome – challenges such as a man named Kakashi Hatake.
If asked why, he would say that they needed to be kept on their toes, which was also the reason why he admired Moody's roar of 'Constant Vigilance!'.
Moody and Hatake. Constant Vigilance for all.
Rubbing the back of his neck to rid the strange prickling sensation, Kakashi stopped in front of a closed classroom entrance. He could hear McGonagall inside this room, lecturing about needles and cutlery. Next, the sound of silverware cascading onto a desk echoed out into the hallway before the murmuring of working students reached his ears.
He took that opportunity to knock on McGonagall's classroom door. A hush fell like a blanket.
McGonagall said primly, "Come in."
Easing the door open, he was greeted by McGonagall's scowling visage. He pretended to cringe and gingerly held his arm in an absent gesture of phantom pain because he wasn't Kakashi Hatake, elite jounin of the Hidden Leaf, anymore. No, he was now simply Kakashi Hatake, the 'squib' desk jockey-turned-cultural representative of a country that he had never heard of nor visited before in his life.
The Professor continued to look daggers at him. The students gawked at him. He played along and greeted, "Hello class. Professor McGonagall."
The Transfiguration Professor clicked her tongue, smelling a plot afoot. "What brings you here Mr. Hatake? I hope you are aware that you're interrupting my class."
"My apologies." Not really. Kakashi inched into the room with McGonagall giving him a berth. He grinned and stated with artificial cheer, "But…I would like to sit and listen in your class."
Taking a moment, McGonagall adjusted her glasses and commented, "…And you didn't think to ask me earlier?"
"I just came from tea with Professor Dumbledore."
The shinobi knew that McGonagall was a smart woman and could easily read into that statement for what it was.
Dumbledore directed me here.
Almost an afterthought, Kakashi seemed to give her a peace offering. "I'll even stay quiet?"
Kakashi lip-read. "Of course you promise to be quiet…" McGonagall muttered under her breath resentfully. She sighed, "Very well, Mr. Hatake. Take a seat at the front here."
Amidst the whispering and cautious ogling from the students, Kakashi nodded and sat at the directed seat. That docile action was met by McGonagall's suspicious gaze but she did not comment on his behaviour.
Instead she overlooked him and went back into her role as Professor of Transfiguration.
And so, the shinobi sat complacently during the lesson as a mostly ignored audience member by McGonagall and a strange zoo creature by the studying students. Of course, those with straying attention (the ones studying him and not the Transfiguration material) didn't last long in the face of the elder witch's ire.
As fascinating as turning forks into pins was, Kakashi was among the fidgety students glad that the class ended. With mild fanfare, the students stormed out and McGonagall closed the door after them. She then circled her desk before standing in front of it, all the while watching him.
Body language hawk-like, McGonagall peered over her square spectacles and down her nose at him. "Surely you have elsewhere to be."
Leaning into his creaking seat, Kakashi twirled a successfully transfigured pin between his fingers and said, "Not really."
The witch's expression was unreadable. "And you'll be staying for the next class?"
"Maybe."
McGonagall didn't say a word and only gazed at him imperiously before turning away. Kakashi watched on, fascinated, when she also blatantly disregarded the students noisily loitering at the closed classroom door.
Tartan robes swishing at her feet, McGonagall instead faced the chalkboard and changed.
Kakashi's eyebrows climbed.
In her place was a tabby cat with remarkable markings around the eyes. With grace belying her age, the cat leapt onto the desk, bright healthy eyes looking at him intently.
He found his voice. "Well. That's new." Kakashi blinked, surprised. "…So that's how an animagi transformation looks like."
The feline must have noticed his shock because she then smirked smugly at him, tail flicking. Tilting her head condescendingly, the transformed witch pointed at the door.
Ah.
Giving her furry paw a fleeting look, he gamely ambled towards the door and flung it open. The knob hit the adjacent wall with a loud bang. The Gryffindor first years on the other side jumped and gave him wide-eyed, astonished looks.
Silence…and then murmurs broke free like ripples in water.
One of the braver younglings piped up, "Excuse me sir…but isn't this the Transfiguration classroom?"
Kakashi stared at her until she fidgeted fretfully; he said monotonously, "It is."
A few heads tried to crane past his body blocking the entrance. One of the boys, the one who he remembered had taken a dip in the Great Lake on his first day, hollered out loudly, "Then where's Professor McGonagall?"
"Who's to say I'm not teaching Transfiguration for the day?" quipped Kakashi.
The joke came out flat. From within the room, McGonagall hissed. The students' expressions grew even more bewildered.
Kakashi gave them his patented smile. "Inside." He then moved out of the way and entered. The children followed him in like lost ducklings.
Observing the students as they settled into their seats, the shinobi leaned against the desk beside the perched, attentive cat. He made a show of asking the feline during the ruckus, "And you do this every year?"
McGonagall stood up and paced the desk, letting out a short 'mrow'.
"Hm. Fun."
A lengthy hush stretched for several minutes. The children fidgeted in their seats until one of their classmates couldn't contain themselves and asked again, "So where's the Prof.?"
The witch-turned-cat gave him a rather pointed look. Taking the hint, Kakashi didn't answer the child and instead waved a merry goodbye and left the premises.
Behind him, he could hear the classroom he left erupt into sudden 'oooh's, 'ahhh's, and applause.
"Add to chart: Minerva McGonagall likes to show off once in awhile."
"I hear you're making rounds in the classrooms."
Tugging lightly at his cucumber green scarf, Kakashi responded, "I am." He didn't look up. "And good Thursday morning, Professor Moody."
"…Morning, Mr. Hatake." The vacant chair on his left was pulled with a loud, protesting screech and with a rustle of clothing, Moody sat down. His magical eye spun in its socket, eying the food on the tables.
Using half of his attention in reading the second year Transfiguration textbook, Kakashi waited and his patience was rewarded when-
"Why the visits?"
The shinobi murmured, "Because."
Moody reprimanded gruffly, "That isn't much of an answer."
"True," agreed Kakashi mildly, turning another leaf of the book.
The ex-Auror spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate and added bluntly, "I'm watching you."
Kakashi knew that already. He could feel it even now as the tiny hairs on the back of his neck raised in anticipation. "Good to know." A not so offbeat grin.
With deliberate offense, the heavily scarred man released a short, harsh chuckle. "Is it?"
And with deliberate humour, Kakashi finally faced Moody. "I have to know my enemies and friends and neutral parties, after all. It's me versus them."
"Aye. You think me a neutral party? I guess…" Moody grinned wickedly, "Since you're not forthcoming with the answers, someone has to investigate."
"And you're giving me the heads up."
"It's only fair." He chewed the word out in mock. "The other professors delight me with stories about your adventures." There was a subtle smirk when he held back the words he heard from several others, 'and Hatake's not all together there, if you know what I mean'.
Kakashi closed the textbook and said, composed, "Very well. Fair is fair. I am watching you and everyone else…But you already knew that, right?"
Moody didn't counter his statement. Instead he drank from his hipflask.
Kakashi sneezed.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor then said, "The Unforgivable curses."
"The Unforgivables?" The shinobi did come across them during his research. "What about them?"
"The Gryffindor fourth years will have a demonstration of these curses this afternoon."
He took the not so subtle hint and responded blithely, "I was thinking of Potions this morning but it appears Professor Snape is avoiding me like the black bubonic plague-"
Moody abruptly got up from his seat, both eyes trained on his person. "Ten minutes before one this afternoon, Mr. Hatake."
And so Thursday afternoon began with Kakashi walking alongside Moody to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Admittedly more than he was willing to confess, he was curious about the new Professor, the new unknown in Hogwarts, since there had been bare minimal interaction so far and few impressions made.
Consequently he took up his offer to observe his class – well that and he could see the three spells touted as most severely punishable for in wizarding arts.
Moody entered the eerily quiet classroom first and Kakashi followed him in half a step later. The normally rowdy Gryffindors were surprisingly well-behaved and diligently patient as Moody stomped towards his desk and sat down.
Kakashi slipped into a seat in the front corner of the classroom.
"Put those books away. We're not using them today," growled the Professor.
And like synchronized dancing, there was unison shuffling, opening bags, and disappearing books into folding cloth. Kakashi made a noise at the back of his throat – an aborted, probably inappropriate, snigger; his neck prickled again.
Moody started with roll calling, eyes lingering on the individuals. Kakashi also kept notes.
Another Weasley? Unmistakeable red hair. How many siblings did Charlie have? And…Harry Potter? Where did he come across that name before…?
When the final students were called out, Moody immediately went into the thick of his lesson, pointing out flaws in the students' knowledge. He concluded that they needed to catch up on curses and other Dark arts and what better way to start than to demonstrate the Unforgivable curses?
The students were held at rapt attention.
"Illegal curses. Those aren't usually demonstrated until you're in sixth year but Dumbledore has a higher opinion of you lot." Moody paused and smiled creepily. "He's given me permission to show you what criminals might do to you without warning. Unknown curses fired at you without care. Never nice. Never respectful."
This time Kakashi did chortle inappropriately, though only briefly, because Moody had his uncanny eye on him again.
The Professor soldiered on. "So tell me, can anyone name the curses most heavily punished by wizarding law."
Several hands shot up. Moody chose the Weasley child.
He spoke haltingly, "My dad mentioned the Imperius curse once."
"Ah the Imperius." Moody paused and appraised the child sitting at the front. "You're one of Arthur Weasley's, aren't you?"
The boy nodded. Kakashi took note of the patriarch's name to the Weasley progeny.
"Yes, of course Arthur would know of that little trouble curse…" Moody, with heavy steps, walked to the side of his desk and opened a secret drawer. He withdrew a jar housing three raisin-sized arachnids.
Kakashi studied with interest when the Weasley child paled. Beside him, the girl and Potter watched on, curious. The rest of the class held their breaths in anticipation.
Moody selected one of the scampering, skidding spiders with a firm hand and let it fall onto the desk. With a blue eye trained on Kakashi, Moody revealed his wand and muttered gruffly, "Imperio!"
The effect was instantaneous. He observed passively how Moody manipulated the spider to do unnatural feats – twisting in midair by a thin string of web and doing cartwheels along the desk.
The children laughed until Moody silenced them with a heavy statement, "Funny, isn't it? It won't be so funny then, if this was done to you."
In the new humbled silence of the room, Kakashi murmured, "Total control."
The students flickered uneasy eyes at him. Moody nodded, appreciative that someone understood the dire consequences of the spell.
Kakashi continued, voice stronger, "You could command them to do actions. Betray friends. Commit crimes. Eliminate themselves from the picture…"
As one, he could see the students shudder. Moody continued from where he left off, "But this doesn't have to happen. If you have a strong enough character, the Imperius curse can be fought! And why get hit when you can avoid? CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
The students startled like napping cats. Kakashi almost rolled his eyes at the pep talk.
Replacing the spider back into the jar, Moody growled, "Next curse."
Again, several hands shot up and Moody selected a child that skittishly avoided the Professor's gaze. Growing pink, the boy said with a small, but strong, voice, "The…The Cruciatus curse."
Kakashi remembered seeing that boy at the Greenhouses. Moody questioned, "You're Longbottom?"
Longbottom nodded. Moody grimly selected another spider and let it scamper onto the desk. "For the Cruciatus curse, the spider needs to be bigger for the…demonstration."
With a well placed Engorgio spell, the spider increased into the size of a small baseball. The Weasley suffering from arachnophobia hurriedly moved his desk backwards, away from his fear. Moody paid him no mind and grunted, "Crucio!"
When the spell hit, the spider curled up in itself, twitching and rocking. Being closer than the students, Kakashi could see the eight eyes convulsing at random intervals. Morbidly, he imagined that if the spider had vocal cords, there would be deafening screeches and screams accompanying this display of agony.
He also wondered how well this compared against genjutsu-based torture…
"Stop it!"
The shrill, distressed voice interrupted his line of thought. The girl who sat beside Weasley and Potter was staring at Longbottom, worrying her lower lip.
Longbottom. White knuckles. Dilated eyes. Excessive perspiration. Rigid muscles. Harsh breathing.
Trauma. He could recognize the signs a mile away and it appeared that Moody did too because he released the spell a heartbeat later.
Longbottom eased, boneless, into his seat again, face red and eyes squeezed shut.
A Reducio and the spider shrunk back to its normal size. Replacing the insect into the jar, Moody spoke, "Indescribable pain that doesn't mark the body. Doesn't leave messes. It was quite popular back in the day."
"Any other curse?"
Kakashi saw only one hand raised. It was the girl again.
She whispered, "Avada Kedavra."
A few students shifted in their seats, uncomfortable and nervous. Their Mediator murmured audibly, "The killing curse."
Moody took out the last spider, letting it scuttle down his hand and onto the wood grain desk where it stayed. He echoed, "Yes, the killing curse. There's no counter curse or way to block the spell. Only one person was ever recorded in surviving this and he's sitting right here, in front of me."
Potter seemed to sink into his seat. Kakashi remembered. Voldemort. Potter. Killing curse.
Without flourish, the ex-Auror pointed his wand, both eyes trained on the defenceless spider, and roared, "Avada Kedavra!"
The jounin could feel the ripple of power siphoning from the wizard and into the wand. He carefully opened his left eye to a slit, exposing the Sharingan discreetly. Curious. Pure energy converged from the tip of the wand in a delicate pattern before it was released as a torrential emerald beam.
The green energy didn't miss the target and managed to engulf the entirety of the spider. If he had the Byakugan, he would have seen the Eight Chakra Gates shattered and the energy core smothered and consumed by the overwhelming clout of the spell. But the Byakugan wasn't necessary here. He could feel it – the before and after of the spell.
No chakra.
And no chakra meant death.
Kakashi closed his eyes.
…
During the lesson when the students were studiously copying down notes from the chalkboard, he could feel his senses tingling. Scanning his surroundings while using his book like a shield, he spotted Moody's outstretched hand and his wicked grin.
An enlarged spider. Flying towards him. (Damn Moody and his Constant Vigilance.)
He couldn't very well dodge the insect with his shinobi reflex because that would give him away. So what he did was the next best thing.
Fake it.
With a slow two second reaction time, he leaned down and a distinct splat was heard above his head. (The students gasped.) With a sleight of hand, he appeared to pick up a Sickle sitting innocuously on the floor by his chair's leg.
Tossing the local currency up and down with one hand, Kakashi grinned, eye curving, and speculated out loud, "I wonder who could be so careless as to drop money on the floor."
Moody let his hand fall to his side, the lines on his face deep. He laughed throatily. "It must be your lucky day." With a smirk that further pulled at his deformities, Moody said, "And that, class, is a good example of constant vigilance. It appears that Mr. Hatake is not paying attention at all but he is. Isn't that right?"
A glint appeared in the ex-Auror's eye. No one can appear that oblivious.
Kakashi clenched the Sickle in his hand tightly but bantered, "I haven't a clue of what you're talking about, Professor. All I saw was something shiny on the floor and decided to take a closer look."
Moody's electric blue eye spun. "Yes. I saw that too." He noticed that the students were enraptured by their strange conversation; the Professor then commented, "I heard from Filius that you can walk on walls."
"Walk on walls?" shouted one of the Gryffindor students, flabbergasted.
There were fervent murmurs of 'how'.
"With magic maybe…?"
Rubbing the back of his neck, Kakashi deflected the shock with a hesitant laugh. "Oh there must be some mistake. I can't use magic to walk on walls. I'm a squib."
That statement caught even more attention.
"You're a SQUIB?"
…
Before Kakashi left the classroom, he placed the Sickle warmed by his hand onto the desk.
"Nice test. Nice try."
Oh, he knew what Moody wanted and what he didn't get. Because even now, Moody still didn't understand why he needed to lure the students into a false sense of security with his 'I'm a weakling, lovable teacher; go easy on me' act…And he was happy to keep it that way – until Saturday, at least.
But he had to admit that he'll need to make a second note on Moody.
"Add to chart: Alastor Moody is more observant than some of his colleagues. Must watch out for him."
Friday rolled around the corner and landed in a spectacular belly flop. Earlier that week, Kakashi had planned to attend Flitwick's advanced charms class but decided against it. He had ample information on Flitwick already and he didn't think he could deal with another roomful of rowdy Slytherin teenagers for two more hours.
(Not to mention the news that he was, by their standards, a squib caught like wildfire.)
So instead, he spent most of that day composing his mission report and planning for tomorrow…
"…E'rl light reveal'd upon skies of east'rn morn'."
A Guide to Medieval Sorcery
Only the wan sliver of moonlight splashed over the landscape as the stars and other celestial bodies were hidden behind the grey clouds. The Forbidden Forest breathed life in this blanket of silence and within its protective borders, Hogwarts gleamed like a lonely slate jewel bedded on sable velvet.
On top of the castle armaments near the sky piercing Ravenclaw tower stood several figures. Kakashi listened to the rise and fall of the sleeping world, scenting moss, leaves, and the undertones of the approaching icy autumn. Behind him, one of his companions whined, sound dying with the breeze.
Moving his fingers, he used the old ANBU codes to relay what he wanted. And so, with their mission objectives at hand, the nindogs scattered to their designated targets.
There was ruckus. There was barking. There was a crazy looking dog sitting at the bottom of the common room stairwell.
Several Slytherins who were awakened by the dog frowned at the animal with severe disapproval.
"Seriously! It's not even six in the morning yet!"
The prefect crossed her arms and asked, "Isn't that one of the foreigner's mutts?"
Disregarding their hostile behaviour, he spat Kakashi's missive onto her face. Guruko's tail thumped happily. The girl screamed shrilly.
He howled a, ('mission complete!'), and left in a cloud of dust.
"No…Noooo…I hate…cold fish…Fish is cold…" whimpered the supposed target.
Pakkun growled and with his paw, he smacked the kid on the face again. ("Wake up!")
The Hufflepuff tossed his head to the other side, dislodging the dog sitting on the coverlets of his bed.
With a low snarl, Pakkun righted himself and let loose a loud bark. All of the sixth year occupants in the room jolted awake by the menacing sound; there was one who even fell off his mattress.
Several candles lighted.
"…What's going on?" muttered Cedric Diggory around a yawn.
("Stupid, lumpy, ignorant brats…") complained Pakkun grumpily, not that he expected the wizards to understand him. ("You even look the same!")
Another Hufflepuff teen rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and pointed, "It's a dog…"
"Isn't that…Mr. Hatake's dog?" asked the boy to the far left of the room, eyes squinting.
The nindog sighed and leapt onto the correct bed this time - the prefect's bed - much to Cedric's puzzlement.
"He-Hey! Down boy!"
Rolling his eyes, Pakkun dropped Kakashi's message on top of the bed covers and disappeared in a swirl of smoke.
Eyes half-mast, Bisuke stared at the prefect of Gryffindor, willing her to wake up.
She obviously didn't.
Her friend however did, screeching like a banshee when she saw 'the shadow of the dangerous Grim looming over poor defenceless Amelia'. In reflex, she threw a pillow at the 'Grim' only to miss.
Bisuke had already departed, leaving behind the memo in the dissipating smoke.
Akino was perhaps the most successful with the Ravenclaws because he managed to herd both prefects into the common room by stealing their blankets.
"Get back here you-you-you-bed defiler!" hollered the female prefect.
Shortly afterwards, her male counterpart grumbled, "Mon dieu! He got you too?"
Converging, the two teens leapt down the stairs and circled the dog holding their bedspreads hostage.
"On the count of three," commanded the female Ravenclaw. "Three…Two-!"
Black glasses flashing, Akino took a step back and disappeared. He made sure to visibly leave Kakashi's note for them to read.
Dear Hogwarts students,
Six AM. Quidditch Field. I'll be expecting all of you to be present.
And don't forget. Be on time!
Humbly yours, your prestigious Mediator,
Kakashi Hatake
It was early – 'nearing the break of dawn' early – Saturday morning. Six AM, to be exact. Kakashi was sitting in the stands of the Quidditch Field, taking note of the students trudging onto the spacious sports ground. His scarf was a sunny cauliflower yellow that seemed to mock the 'early birds' with its reflection of bright liveliness.
Obviously, the students who did show up were not very happy at all but he skilfully, through many years of practice, ignored the grumpy faces.
"Hmmm…"
Unsurprisingly, there were only two or three Slytherins who deigned to show up. The Hufflepuffs didn't fare any better as their numbers were perhaps only ten strong, if not less. As for the Gryffindors, they had a similar turn out as the Hufflepuffs; their group loitered near the edge of the field, looking longingly at the tower housing their beds.
It was the Ravenclaws who surprised him the most.
The Ravenclaw prefects had perhaps more than half of their students lined up within the pitch. However, some were shooting awfully annoyed looks at their student leaders while the others appeared resigned.
When everyone settled, he stood up from his seat. "Good morning everyone." His voice effectively stalled all conversation. The students grumbled out their versions of 'good morning'.
Kakashi smiled, "I see not everyone is here."
There was more grumbling and one of the Slytherins, perhaps a prefect, yelled out, "What's going on?"
The shinobi pulled open 'A Guide to Medieval Sorcery' and recited, "E'rl light reveal'd upon skies of east'rn morn'."
More murmurs and whispers were shared amongst the students.
"What…?"
"I don't get it."
Kakashi slipped the book into his pocket again and explained plainly, "I recently found this interesting archaic rule dictating that students were to wake up at the break of dawn or face consequences. And then I thought to myself, so why not choose a Saturday to try this early morning exercise?"
"What?"
"Complete bollocks!"
"Thank you for coming. You may go now," dismissed Kakashi rudely.
Complaints ratcheted upwards and beyond as the students glared at their Mediator. However, not that they knew at the time, it was only the 'lull to a violent storm'.
Pocketing his hands, Kakashi thought back. He had recently made a head count on the number of students in each House and just counted the number of students who did show up to his impromptu gathering.
Now he wondered…How many deducted House points would that be if it's five points off for every respective student who didn't show up?
And so that morning, the student body finally figured out the answer to their question: what does a Mediator do? They realized that he didn't really need to do anything other than exist and be a pest. They also found out, in a 'much too late' fashion, that the foreign man had a lot of power – power that he had no qualms in abusing.
The mostly angry students gave the Professors a wide, wide berth.
"Negative two hundred twenty House points?" gasped McGonagall.
"Breathe, Minerva, breathe," soothed Sprout, rubbing her arm gently. She smiled weakly, "I'm in the same boat as you too. Negative two hundred fifty for the Hufflepuffs."
"But…But…"
Snape snarled, "Who."
The two women flinched sympathetically when they saw the Slytherin House points listed at negative three hundred ten.
Flitwick rubbed his glasses with the end of his shirt before putting them back on fretfully. He peered at the jewel hourglass again. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…What could have happened overnight?"
"I think this prudent question should be asked by us, Filius," said McGonagall sharply, eyes calculating.
After all, Ravenclaw was ahead with two hundred fifty-five House points.
Their Charms Professor wavered. "It wasn't me!"
"Placing Ravenclaw up two hundred points in four days since the start of class is impressive," murmured Snape coolly. "But seeing the rest of the Houses at negative values is unacceptable."
"Now now, Professor Snape," chided a new arrival. Kakashi inched beside the entrance of the adjoined hallway, blasé. "Don't point fingers without evidence."
It was as if a candle was suddenly lit.
McGonagall snapped, "I should have known!"
"I'm sure the Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors will have their points back in no time," dismissed Kakashi.
"I can't believe this…" frowned Sprout disapprovingly.
Snape clenched his teeth together. "You-"
"-What happened, Mr. Hatake, that could cause you to deduct so many points?"
It was Headmaster Dumbledore intervening the escalating squabble.
Kakashi shared a secret grin with his inquisitive client and said, "As you British would say, let's talk this over a cup of tea."
TBC
A/N: You're probably thinking, 'omg he didn't!'. Well I'm here to tell you that 'omg he did! :D'.
Yes sir and/or madam. That's negative house points for you.
Now. What are our scheming Hogwartians to do?
Edit: Thank you for pointing out the whole confusion with Head Boy/Head Girl/Prefect-thing Nims Dias-angelovdarkness. Much appreciated! :)
~Phoenyxx
