Chapter three

So, this is where Gandalf the Grey has sunken to. Flying on cleaning equipment. Surely, the wizards of this world could come up with something more imaginative. According to Dumbledore, this was the traditional method of travel. There were occasional flying cars, yes, but they were far less popular. Despite being able to carry more, and being safer. Gandalf could not, at first, comprehend why, of all things one could fly with, these people chose brooms! It was certainly not so they could keep everything tidy, going by their rooms. Gandalf had asked Dumbledore, when they were on the ground, why they would be flying using brooms, of all things. Dumbledore had explained to him that, some thousands of years ago, wizards and witches decided that they needed a means of flight that was unobtrusive. And thus, they came up with brooms. Despite this logic, Gandalf still thought it somewhat ridiculous. Surely they could come up with something more dignified. Did they not claim to be superior to those who could not use magic? Not that Gandalf believed that to be so, but he still felt that those who claim to be superior should at least try and appear to be superior, even though they aren't.

Gandalf had been confused, at first. And when they had explained, his confusion turned to indignity. 'A broom?' he asked. He took one and stared at it for a while. He could see the enchantments weaved about it; there were spells that were designed to grant it flight. He looked again at Dumbledore, who was smiling. 'Is this really how you travel?'

'Of course.' Dumbledore attempted to hide his smile, failing spectacularly. 'Now, don't tell me you're afraid of a bit of flying, Professor Gandalf. You won't get very far if you won't fly.'

Gandalf shook his head. 'Flying? Of course not.' He held up the broom. 'However, I can hardly say that I would place my trust on a piece of cleaning equipment. I know it has enchantments and all, but it still isn't enough to warrant my comfort.' He put the broom down, carefully. 'I think I'll walk.' He smiled. At this, Dumbledore shook his head.

'I'm afraid that that won't do,' he told Gandalf. Beside him, McGonagall's shoulders were shaking, ever so slightly, with suppressed mirth. Gandalf felt slightly shocked at this. He had thought her sterner than this. But then again, many others in Middle-Earth thought he was very stern. He was, when he needed to be, but not always. Dumbledore continued. 'Hogwarts is far. Flying would get there much quicker.'

'We can talk whilst we walk,' Gandalf retorted.

Dumbledore appeared to consider this. 'Hmm. True. But there are papers in my office, which need to be signed by you. The sooner that is done, the better. We can get you a room.' Gandalf opened his mouth, but paused. He considered this for a moment. He would like to have a new room, where he wasn't kept awake at night due to loud noises at pub down below. He sighed, and bowed his head.

'Very well,' said Gandalf. 'How do we fly on them?'

A few moments later, Gandalf was flying, clutching the broom with much of his strength, trying not to show his fear, and making sure not to break the easily breakable looking broom. To his great relief, the school soon came into sight. The broom ride was smooth, but still somewhat uncomfortable. A few moments later, they had landed, although to Gandalf, it had seemed to be at least half an hour. Once certain that they had stopped, Gandalf got off, a little hastily. He looked to where McGonagall had landed, and concluded that she was concealing a great deal of laughter. Gandalf looked away, slightly embarrassed. He turned his attention to the giant castle. Nothing impressive, on its own. Gandalf had of course seen far more visually impressive. The Halls of Rohan, Minas Tirith, the halls of the Elves. As far as castles went, it didn't really stand up. However, what made it slightly more impressive was the magic that was weaved into the castle. It was riddled with spells, and charms, and enchantments of all sorts; the very bricks had numerous spells. It felt as though it had been here for a long time, which of course, it had, and it bore great tragedies and sorrow in it. It seemed to hold great anger, and rivalry. However, at the same time, Gandalf detected hope, and exuberance. There was bravery, and loyalty, and courage. He felt passion, and peacefulness, and an immense love, for all things, big and small, emanating from the large castle. He sensed curiosity, wisdom, and intelligence – for which he was very glad for – within the castle. He could see there was ambition, too. A desire to go beyond, to do greater things that had been done before. Gandalf smiled. Perhaps, Gandalf thought to himself, this might be better than I feared. Dumbledore's voice cut through the silence.

'I see you're impressed, Gandalf,' interrupted Dumbledore, smiling. 'I am honoured. But if you don't mind, I think we should head inside now.'

'Ah, of course,' agreed Gandalf, following Dumbledore through the drawbridge, curious as to what mysteries awaited him inside.

After a few long minutes of walking, they finally arrived at Dumbledore's office. While the castle looked pretty, it wasn't anything special, compared to what Gandalf had seen in Middle-Earth. Nothing had really caught his interest, save for the door to Dumbledore's office, which required a password to be said in order for it to open, and the animated portraits, who were just having conversations amongst themselves. He would have to ask Dumbledore later on.

After ascending a flight of stairs, they entered his office. There was a curious red bird on a pedestal. It wasn't in any of the books he had read on dark creatures, so he assumed it wasn't evil. Gandalf was tempted to ask Dumbledore what manner of creature it was, but he had already pulled out a few papers.

'Now, Gandalf,' said Dumbledore, putting the papers on the desk, facing Gandalf. 'Just sign your name at the bottom of these papers.' He offered Gandalf a quill.

Accepting the quill, Gandalf sat down, and read the papers. There was no magic around either the paper, or the quill, or even the ink on the quill. No enchantments, or spells; nothing which would bind Gandalf magically to whatever it was he was signing. This was all honour based, of which Gandalf was glad. He was positive he could break through any spells or enchantments that they might lay upon him, but he'd rather not.

Scanning the pages briefly, Gandalf concluded he could adhere to all the rules and regulations, and he quickly signed his name. As the deal was sealed, Gandalf handed back the papers, at which both he and Dumbledore smiled.

'Thank you.' Dumbledore took back the pages, and put them in his drawer. 'Now, you'll begin work in two days' time. That should give you enough time to settle in, and prepare something for your classes. One of the ghosts will have to escort you to your room. I've some unfortunate paperwork to finish. I hope you find your rooms to your liking.' Dumbledore smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling. Gandalf smiled, turned, and almost left, but Dumbledore had one last thing to tell him. 'Oh, and Gandalf,' Gandalf stopped and turned. 'You'll have to do a little something on the day.' Gandalf nodded his head, and finally left.

Outside of Dumbledore's office, Gandalf nearly jumped when he came face to face with a ghost, who's neck was nearly cut through entirely. 'Oh,' Gandalf chuckled nervously. 'You startled me.'

'No problem,' the ghost announced cheerfully. 'Come along, I'm here to take you to your room.' The ghost turned, and floated along the corridor. Gandalf took a deep breath, and followed after him.

'Pardon my intrusion,' Gandalf began warily, as he walked down the corridor next to the ghost. 'But I was wondering: how exactly do ghosts such as yourselves come into being? I confess, my knowledge is lacking in that area. I do hope I'm not being insensitive.'

The ghost merely laughed. 'Don't worry,' he reassured the new professor. 'We're simply spirits that haven't moved on yet.'

'Moved on?' asked Gandalf, somewhat suddenly. 'You mean that there is an afterlife in this reality?' The ghost looked at him sideways at that.

'Err, yes,' he replied. 'There is. Anyway, that's all we are. Some are a tad malevolent, especially at the beginning. But they usually calm down. Just beware for the poltergeist, Peeves. Nasty fellow, he is. Always causing a bit of trouble.'

'Oh,' remarked Gandalf, raising his eyebrows. 'I know of a few young Tooks who are like that. And one young Baggins.' Once again, his memory brought up the Hobbits. Of all the hobbits, his favourite had to be the Took clan, and Bilbo Baggins, who had Tookish blood in him, which accounted for his completely un-Hobbit like behaviour, even for a child. He smiled, faintly but fondly. He noticed the ghost beside him look confused, as though he was trying to remember those names.

'Tooks? Baggins?'

'I don't imagine you'd recognise those names,' Gandalf tried to reassure the ghost. However, the ghost merely waved it away.

'No, no,' he said. 'I have definitely heard of them. I'll get them in a moment, don't you worry. I think I overheard one or two of the students talk about them.' Gandalf furrowed his brow at this. As far as he was aware, the only constant in this world was the existence of humans. Beyond that, nothing!

'I really don't think that is possible,' Gandalf said, quietly.

'Oh' exclaimed the ghost. 'That's it! They're Hobbits, aren't they? Some children were talking about them. Some book or another.' Gandalf looked forward, troubled.

'Indeed,' he muttered, concerned. 'I don't suppose you'd know which book?' he asked, hopeful. The ghost shook his head.

'Unfortunately not,' he told Gandalf, who looked slightly down cast. 'Sorry,' the ghost apologised. Gandalf shook his head.

'Oh, no need to apologise,' he told his guide. 'On the contrary, you have provided me with valuable information. Now all I need do is fill in the blanks.' He chuckled. 'And there is a lifetime summed up,' he remarked.

They finally stopped. The ghost turned to Gandalf.

'Well,' he held a hand towards the door. 'Here is your room. I hope you find it to your likings. I hope you find out what you are searching for, and welcome to Hogwarts!' Gandalf nodded, thanked him, and headed in.

The room was certainly more comfortable looking than his room at the inn. It was larger, with a large, clean bed, and a desk that was slightly smaller. There were doors, leading to other rooms, and a large, wooden cupboard. There was a fireplace, and a mantelpiece. The floor didn't creak, and the room didn't reek of strange alcohol. There weren't any spells, beyond ones to keep the room from falling apart. There appeared to be few actual nails. Gandalf felt slightly disappointed. It was a curious thing, Gandalf thought to himself, that many who gain the power to do things very quickly prefer to take their time; it seemed that with greater power came a greater desire to do things by hand. Or perhaps that was merely some. However, it seemed to him that these witches and wizards used magic overmuch. It had good results, of course. That he could not deny. However, it seemed to him that they used magic in excess. But then again, he was in a strange new universe, and what was strange to him was commonplace for them, and what was commonplace for him would be most likely strange for them.

Gandalf put his hat on the hat rack, keeping himself from recoiling as it moved a limb towards him. He felt he should be used to it by now, but it ever startled him, if only slightly. He leaned his staff against it, too. He went and sat down on his bed. He sighed. He now wondered how on earth people have heard about Hobbits. Enough to write a book on them! He hoped this person still lived. He would very much like to talk to another scholar of Hobbits, as he liked to call himself. This of course brought up the issue of how different this world was from his own. It could be much more similar than he originally thought. How much similar, he could not say. He had found no sign of elves, or dwarves, or many of the creatures that he was familiar with, although there were many new and fascinating creatures for him to learn about. He had learnt of the existence of dragons in this world, which alarmed him at first. He soon calmed down after learning that they were little more than beasts, with very little intelligence. Gandalf made a note to, as soon as he got a chance, find this book about Hobbits. If anything else, it might prove to be an enlightening read.

Gandalf looked at the clock upon the mantelpiece. Nearly midday. Gandalf felt a slight pang of hunger. He reasoned that a small meal would suffice. Then he would go to the inn, retrieve his belongings, and say his farewells. Gandalf gathered his strength, and rose. He took his staff and then headed off to find the kitchen.

It took Gandalf quite some time to find the kitchen. There were nearly as many passages to Hogwarts as to Imladris. However, at last Gandalf found the kitchen. It was empty, so Gandalf searched a while. He was still trying to get used to many of the bizarre foods and flavours, and had learnt to be wary of the delicacy known as jelly beans, for they had many flavours, both good and bad. However, at last he found the ingredients to make a meal to his liking. He ate his meal in the kitchen, and then headed back to his room to retrieve his hat, and a large bag. From there, he left to find Hagrid.

After a short walk he arrived at Hagrids cottage, and knocked on the door. 'Ah! Gandalf!' greeted Hagrid heartily. 'Come in, come in. I'll put some tea on the stove.' He ushered Gandalf in, then quickly put some water on to boil. 'Now, what brings you 'ere, ay? I 'aven't seen you in a few days. What you been up to, now? How'd the test go?'

Gandalf waited patiently for Hagrid to stop before he answered. 'I shall tell you my account once the tea has finished. All I'll say now is that the test went well.' At that, Hagrid clapped once, and yelled joyfully.

'I knew it!' he laughed. 'Well done, Gandalf, well done.' He sat down with a content sigh. 'Ahh, but this raises a question.' Gandalf raised his eyebrows slightly.

'Oh, and what might that question be?' he asked. Hagrid began to look rather sheepish.

'Well, whether or not you'll make it to the end of the year,' he answered, looking to the window.

'And why would that be the question, may I ask?' queried Gandalf, leaning forwards. Hagrid looked downwards, sheepishly. There was a silence, before he answered.

'Well,' he began uncertainly. 'For the past few years, a great deal of bad stuff has 'append. And the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers were all involved somehow.' He faltered, before closing his mouth.

'Go on,' pushed Gandalf, and to Hagrid it seemed that there was a renewed strength in him. As if a great fire was lit within his heart.

'Well,' he began, trying to find the correct words. 'It's a bit of long story. I'll try to keep it short.' And so, Hagrid told Gandalf a tale. It began when he was a student in Hogwarts, along with another student, by the name of Tom Riddle. He moved forward, and told how Tom, who had great strength in both mind and magic, had grown resentful of muggleborn witches and wizards, and had forged a secret army, and waged a war. He changed his name, and went henceforth as Voldemort. Hagrid was reluctant to say his name. According to Hagrid, this Voldemort character, who he called from thereon out You-know-who, had been killed when he attacked a family known as the Potters. He cast the Killing Curse upon their child. However, it had backfired, and he was killed. Or so they thought. Rather, it was merely his body that was destroyed, and his soul had survived, somehow. And in the years that had passed, when the child came of age, and he arrived at Hogwarts, things occurred that pointed to the returning of Voldemort. In his first year, the DADA teacher sought a stone, which would be able bring Voldemort back, fully. It also was revealed that the face of Voldemort resided on the back of his head. It was Harry Potter, with the aid of his two friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger that managed to stop him, though more by good fortune than much else. The next year, there was a wholly incompetent teacher, who had earned a good reputation by going on adventures with other, more impressive wizards, and taking credit for their good deeds, erasing their memories. He ended up having nothing to do with the rest of the adventure, besides being a hindrance. In the end, he lost his memory, and Harry it seemed met with Voldemort himself, or a memory of him. He saved a young girls live, Ginny Weasley, and killed a Basilisk, and even destroyed one of the memory of Voldemort. And more was recounted, but nothing really interested Gandalf except the fifth year of Harry's school life. In that, there was a tournament, which Harry Potter had entered, by the machinations of a man named Barty Crouch Jr., who in the guise of their DADA teacher, had manipulated events so that Harry would end up in a graveyard. There, a being known as Wormtail waited, so as to entrap Harry, and use him to bring back Voldemort fully. He succeeded, but there was an unforeseen problem. Another had arrived with Harry. One Cedric Diggory. There was much misfortune that night, for Wormtail had slain him, and brought Voldemort back, and with him, many of his most loyal followers were revealed. At that point, the kettle began to whistle, and Hagrid got up to make tea.

Gandalf pondered this for a while. Things were finally becoming clearer to him. The mystery of why he was here seemed to be unravelling to him. 'Thank you,' he told Hagrid, as he handed Gandalf the tea. Gandalf placed it on the table, still holding to it. 'Now, this has been very interesting indeed. I fear my own tale shan't be nearly half as interesting as yours. As for what I've been up to, I've spent the last week going about, pursuing other studies. I've found myself rather curious about their transportation, and I've spent my energies mostly on that. I found out also of computers, which contain stores upon stores of knowledge, the likes of which would amaze even some of the great lore-masters. Ah, but there are things I shall have to take with me, when I return to my own home, to give.

'I also spent a while going to the local parks. There are creatures there I have seldom seen, and some whose tongues I have not learnt, until then. I went to exchange some of the coins that I had gathered for their currency. I received quite a bit. I then tried what they called "street food". That was an experience indeed. Some of it was good, and some of it was… not quite so good. I afterwards visited one of their "zoos". That was an experience! There were creatures there I had never dreamed of! I must go there again, if only to learn their names. I only visited them on the final day.' Gandalf paused, and took a sip of his tea. He continued. 'But now, you want to know of my trial. It went well, and quickly.' Gandalf told Hagrid of his short battle against Snape. He could see that the Games-master was astounded by the story. At the end, he continued to drink his tea.

At last, Gandalf finished his tea. He looked outside the window. It was soon becoming noon. He turned to Hagrid. 'Now, to answer your other question,' he began. 'I am in need of a horse. Are there any? I am more accustomed to horses than to brooms.'

'A horse?' Hagrid repeated. 'Aye, there's a few horses at Hogwarts, but they're for certain occasions, only. There's a few other options. Come on, I'll show you.' Hagrid got up and left, with Gandalf, who finished his tea, following after.

They went into the edge Forbidden Forest, where Hagrid told Gandalf to wait, while he went further in. After a few minutes of waiting, Hagrid returned, with a winged creature. It appeared in body to be a horse, but had wings like an eagle, and a beak. It was feathered all over, too. It took Gandalf a moment to recognise the creature.

'Hagrid, is this a Hippogriff?' Gandalf asked, cautiously.

'Yep,' Hagrid replied eagerly. 'This ones Buckbeak. You read up on them?' He stopped a few meters from Gandalf.

'Briefly,' replied Gandalf. 'As I recall, they are proud creatures.' He could see where this was going. Still, it was better than a broom

'Aye, that they are,' agreed Hagrid. 'Now, if you wanna pat 'im, and then fly him, you'll 'ave to get his permission first. You know how to do that?' Gandalf shook his head.

'I'm afraid not. I only had a brief read on them.'

'Oh well then, all you 'ave to do is bow. If he bows back, that means he likes you. If not, then you'll just have to back off. Okay?' He watched tentatively as Gandalf, who had placed his staff on a tree stepped forth, and stopped.

Gandalf bowed at the waist, low. There was a moment of tension, and Hagrid was concerned that it might not work. Fortunately, the proud beast lowered its head. Gandalf recognised this as a sign to approach him. He cautiously reached out his hand to pet the Hippogriff. To his relief, the strange mixture of creatures did not shy from him, or attack him.

'There we go,' murmured Gandalf to the Hippogriff, petting its neck. 'Does he require a saddle?' He asked this to Hagrid, without taking his eyes of Buckbeak.

'Oh, no,' answered Hagrid. 'No, not Buckbeak. Too proud for saddles, Hippogriffs are.' Gandalf nodded his understanding. He stopped patting, but did not let go of Buckbeak.

'Very well, then.' Gandalf turned to Hagrid, slightly. 'Thank you, my friend. If ever you require my help, you need only ask. I am ever in your debt.' He sprung aboard Buckbeak, and looked down upon Hagrid. 'Fair well, good Hagrid. I shall see you soon.' He looked up. 'Come, Buckbeak. Let us be off.' The Hippogriff flared its wings, ran a couple of steps, and then took off. He flew in a circle, ere Gandalf steered him towards Hogsmeade. Far below, Hagrid waved them off, a smile on his face. He sighed contentedly, and went back to his cottage.

Far above, Gandalf and Buckbeak flew towards Hogsmeade. Buckbeak flew swiftly indeed. Gandalf likened him to one of the Mearas. Some minutes later, he arrived by the Three Broomsticks Inn. People scattered, getting out of the way of the landing Hippogriff. Gandalf apologised incessantly to the startled onlookers. He dismounted.

'Stay here, please,' he asked the Hippogriff. He had learned that the Hippogriff spoke in the language of the eagles, although he had a different accent to the ones Gandalf was accustomed to. Buckbeak shrieked his agreement. Gandalf smiled, and thanked him. He then went inside, and searched for Lily. He found her giving a meal to someone. He went and greeted her.

'Gandalf!' she cried when he neared. 'How wonderful to see you. Would you like something to eat? Tell me how it went. I simply must know.' She called one of the staff over, and was about to give them an order, when Gandalf interrupted her.

'Actually,' he stopped her before she could say anything. 'I think I'll just have a drink. The usual, please.' He turned to Lily. 'I've already had a small lunch.' He smiled, and then added: 'At Hogwarts.' His smile turned into a grin, as Lily cried out in gladness.

'Ah! Congratulations, Gandalf. Why, this calls for celebration.'

'Thank you,' Gandalf told her, putting up a hand to stop her further outburst. 'But no. At least, not now. I can stay, and have a drink, and talk, but not much else. I must take my books, to my room in Hogwarts. I'm afraid I won't be seeing very much of you, Lily.' Lily waved her hand in dismissal.

'Oh, that's fine, Gandalf,' she said. 'As long as you come and visit me from time to time. Oh, here you go.' She took Gandalf's drink, and gave it to him. She thanked the waiter.

'I most certainly will, my friend,' he reassured her, accepting his drink. 'Of that, you can be certain.' He smiled, and they began to discuss things. She told him of things that had transpired, such as the excitement of going back to Hogwarts. She told him she had heard news about the recent appearance of Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic. This troubled Gandalf deeply, but he put it aside for the time being, for he wished to enjoy the time. So, in turn, Gandalf spoke about what he had gathered from his travels to the rest of the world. He told her of what he had seen; of planes, ships, and cars he spoke. Of zoos, and restaurants he wished to visit. He did voice his disappointment though, briefly, about the dwindling number of trees, and that they could not speak. He complained also that this world was far noisier than what he was accustomed to.

At last, after half an hour of talk, he finished his drink. He thanked Lily, and bid her farewell. As he left, his bag full of books, he placed an enchantment on the Three Broomsticks, so that their food and drink shall be greater than ever before for a thousand years times. He leapt on to Buckbeak, and bid the inn a silent fond farewell, and took off.

A few minutes after, Gandalf arrived at Hagrids cottage again. He thanked him once again for his lending of Buckbeak. He retrieved his staff, and set off, back to Hogwarts. While he walked, he wondered to himself what he would teach the children. He reasoned it would be wise to teach them to defend their minds. While ósanwe, or telepathy, as it seemed to be called, did not quite exist here, he had learnt memories could be invaded, and manipulated, and read, by those who are skilled, and even broken. There was, however, a way to protect ones' mind. Gandalf decided, as he came upon Hogwarts, that teaching this skill would be immensely useful. He pondered whether or not he should teach them how to invade ones' mind, but soon dismissed that idea. It would not be wise, giving humans such an ability, but to give human children that ability would be to invite chaos and danger.

Inside the castle, Gandalf made his way with great difficulty to his room. The stairs of the castle moved about, much to his frustration and fascination. They were one more thing he would have to study when he had time. When he reached his room, he took out two books that he remembered had a good deal regarding the protection of the mind. Gandalf wondered how he would teach them that in a practical way, without teaching them how to intrude another's mind first. He would have to demand that they swear an oath never to intrude into another's mind without their express permission, or otherwise great need. He would teach them how to protect one's mind first and foremost, and then teach them how to invade someone's.

He set aside the books, and wrote a letter to Dumbledore. There was no time to ask the parents to give buy the books, so he decided to buy them himself. They were rather cheap, and he had earned a good deal. Finishing his letter to Dumbledore, he put it aside, and wrote on to the bookstore, asking for a copy of three hundred books. He gave instructions to his owl, which was in a cage, and then sent it off. Having accomplished all that he had set out to do, he did something he'd never done before.

He had a shower, before going to bed.

Thank you all for your patience. Sorry I haven't uploaded a chapter recently. I have a habit of procrastination. And exams are coming up soon, so don't expect a new story soon.