CHAPTER 4 - MUSINGS
Snape, who had been sitting tense for so long, now gave a sigh of relief as his eyes followed Bertlemon's exit through the Great Hall.
It had been a daunting task that he and McGonagall had faced over the past few weeks. Snape shuddered at the reflection of what he had gone through. Unfortunately his mind kept running over the events starting from where the two professors had stared at the fifteen-year-old who sat at Dumbledore's desk.
For a second he was stunned. Yes, he, Snape who never lost his head in a crisis, had no idea what happened and stood numb with shock.
McGonagall sank back into her chair, but he, was not that weak. He immediately took the glass from which Dumbledore had drunk, sniffed it and used his wand to check for hidden potions. Both yielded nothing.
He then looked towards McGonagall who had been checking the room for the most recently cast spell. Her attempt too had proved to be futile.
All the while, 15 year old Dumbledore had been watching them with wide-eyed interest.
If Snape, at times had felt like throttling the headmaster Dumbledore, it was nothing to what he felt like doing to the 15-year-old. As a kid the headmaster was anything but bearable.
Anybody observing Snape then must have suspected him to be catching a chill for his shudders were frequent and authentic.
The two Professors then entered upon the task of discovering whether the 15- year-old headmaster retained the 90 and odd years' memory.
The recollection still drew a laugh from him.
It didn't take the two long to discover that the boy who sat at the headmaster's desk was a 15-year-old in body and mind.
McGonagall, exasperated, exclaimed, "But surely you remember You-Know-Who!"
"Who?" the boy asked in obvious surprise.
"You-Know-Who!" she repeated.
"I don't know who," he said with simple firmness, and then turning to Snape, "Do you know who?"
Snape did not manage to repress a chuckle and earned himself a glare from McGonagall.
They spent the next half an hour breaking their heads over what was to be done with the boy. It was McGonagall who came up with the notion of making Dumbledore join Hogwarts along with the rest of the fifth years.
"He will cause much less trouble to us if he was with the rest of the fifth years, while we try to find a remedy," McGonagall reasoned. "This way we'll also be able to keep an eye on him."
He agreed. He was diverted at the thought of the Headmaster, Dumbledore attending fifth year at Hogwarts and studying Potions under him.
McGonagall too had thought along the same lines and the two had shared a good laugh.
But over the next few weeks the two hadn't had much to laugh about. It had been a Herculean task to convince the 15-year-old to change his name, for obviously they couldn't allow him to attend Hogwarts as Albus Dumbledore.
"Why should I change my name?" 15-year-old Dumbledore asked. "I like my name. It means bumble bee you know," he informed them earnestly.
"We are in the year 1995 and you would be expected to be 90 plus now. It is possible that people who knew you when you were 15, find it strange that you're still only 15. So in order that they don't recognise you, it is better your name is changed."
"How is it 1995?" the boy asked bewildered.
"Perhaps it was the spell we were experimenting," said Snape, cooking up an excuse fast. "We don't know for sure."
The boy continued to stare at the two, now in horror.
"We shall find some way to set it right," said Snape much more confidently than he felt.
The boy had been strangely obstinate regarding the name and at last had decided on Sher Bertlemon .
'Thank God!' thought Snape, 'I don't have any nephews'.
He fervently crossed his fingers. His trust in the discretion of the Headmaster & his 15-year-old self varied in inverse proportion. However the 15-year-old seemed to share the same passion as his elder self. That explained the name he had hit upon on realizing the other two's determination to give him another name.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Albus Dumbledore alias Sher Bertlemon, lay in his bed listening to the various unmusical notes of his five roommates' snores. He had been unable to meet the other boys that evening, as McGonagall had summoned him to her room as soon as the sorting ceremony was over (which he had already gone through in his first year).
It was to drum last minute advises into his head about the do's and don'ts to be followed while at Hogwarts.
He was not exactly sleepy and his mind ran over the incidents of the past few weeks.
He had absolutely no recollection whatsoever of how he had turned up in that room. He had suddenly found himself looking at two wide-eyed strangers.
After muttering a few strange incantations, the man who, he later learned, was called Professor Snape, had turned to him with a cryptic question.
"How did you do it?"
He had had no idea what it meant & had lost no time in telling him so.
The lady, who he thought was endowed with more common sense, had told Professor Snape that he, Dumbledore did not remember anything.
As if! He had had a good mind to tell her that he remembered perfectly well, the exact way to turn a porcupine into a pincushion and many more things besides.
The erroneous good opinion that he had formed of Professor McGonagall's good sense flew out of the window as soon as she had started questioning him about somebody he was expected to know. But how could know who she was talking about, if she never mentioned the name?
After that he had had an extremely fatiguing time in trying to convince them that he was perfectly happy with his name. Unfortunately these two worthy people thought otherwise. They had been bent on forcing a new name onto him, because it seemed that he was in the year 1995. They had also mentioned the possibility that it was the result of one of their experiments. He hoped that they would be able to transport him back soon.
Out of sheer exhaustion of trying to make the two see sense, he had given in to their whims. He was proud of the name he had hit upon.
Sleep slowly crept into him. His fellow Gryffindors.well, he would cross the bridge when he came to it.
Snape, who had been sitting tense for so long, now gave a sigh of relief as his eyes followed Bertlemon's exit through the Great Hall.
It had been a daunting task that he and McGonagall had faced over the past few weeks. Snape shuddered at the reflection of what he had gone through. Unfortunately his mind kept running over the events starting from where the two professors had stared at the fifteen-year-old who sat at Dumbledore's desk.
For a second he was stunned. Yes, he, Snape who never lost his head in a crisis, had no idea what happened and stood numb with shock.
McGonagall sank back into her chair, but he, was not that weak. He immediately took the glass from which Dumbledore had drunk, sniffed it and used his wand to check for hidden potions. Both yielded nothing.
He then looked towards McGonagall who had been checking the room for the most recently cast spell. Her attempt too had proved to be futile.
All the while, 15 year old Dumbledore had been watching them with wide-eyed interest.
If Snape, at times had felt like throttling the headmaster Dumbledore, it was nothing to what he felt like doing to the 15-year-old. As a kid the headmaster was anything but bearable.
Anybody observing Snape then must have suspected him to be catching a chill for his shudders were frequent and authentic.
The two Professors then entered upon the task of discovering whether the 15- year-old headmaster retained the 90 and odd years' memory.
The recollection still drew a laugh from him.
It didn't take the two long to discover that the boy who sat at the headmaster's desk was a 15-year-old in body and mind.
McGonagall, exasperated, exclaimed, "But surely you remember You-Know-Who!"
"Who?" the boy asked in obvious surprise.
"You-Know-Who!" she repeated.
"I don't know who," he said with simple firmness, and then turning to Snape, "Do you know who?"
Snape did not manage to repress a chuckle and earned himself a glare from McGonagall.
They spent the next half an hour breaking their heads over what was to be done with the boy. It was McGonagall who came up with the notion of making Dumbledore join Hogwarts along with the rest of the fifth years.
"He will cause much less trouble to us if he was with the rest of the fifth years, while we try to find a remedy," McGonagall reasoned. "This way we'll also be able to keep an eye on him."
He agreed. He was diverted at the thought of the Headmaster, Dumbledore attending fifth year at Hogwarts and studying Potions under him.
McGonagall too had thought along the same lines and the two had shared a good laugh.
But over the next few weeks the two hadn't had much to laugh about. It had been a Herculean task to convince the 15-year-old to change his name, for obviously they couldn't allow him to attend Hogwarts as Albus Dumbledore.
"Why should I change my name?" 15-year-old Dumbledore asked. "I like my name. It means bumble bee you know," he informed them earnestly.
"We are in the year 1995 and you would be expected to be 90 plus now. It is possible that people who knew you when you were 15, find it strange that you're still only 15. So in order that they don't recognise you, it is better your name is changed."
"How is it 1995?" the boy asked bewildered.
"Perhaps it was the spell we were experimenting," said Snape, cooking up an excuse fast. "We don't know for sure."
The boy continued to stare at the two, now in horror.
"We shall find some way to set it right," said Snape much more confidently than he felt.
The boy had been strangely obstinate regarding the name and at last had decided on Sher Bertlemon .
'Thank God!' thought Snape, 'I don't have any nephews'.
He fervently crossed his fingers. His trust in the discretion of the Headmaster & his 15-year-old self varied in inverse proportion. However the 15-year-old seemed to share the same passion as his elder self. That explained the name he had hit upon on realizing the other two's determination to give him another name.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Albus Dumbledore alias Sher Bertlemon, lay in his bed listening to the various unmusical notes of his five roommates' snores. He had been unable to meet the other boys that evening, as McGonagall had summoned him to her room as soon as the sorting ceremony was over (which he had already gone through in his first year).
It was to drum last minute advises into his head about the do's and don'ts to be followed while at Hogwarts.
He was not exactly sleepy and his mind ran over the incidents of the past few weeks.
He had absolutely no recollection whatsoever of how he had turned up in that room. He had suddenly found himself looking at two wide-eyed strangers.
After muttering a few strange incantations, the man who, he later learned, was called Professor Snape, had turned to him with a cryptic question.
"How did you do it?"
He had had no idea what it meant & had lost no time in telling him so.
The lady, who he thought was endowed with more common sense, had told Professor Snape that he, Dumbledore did not remember anything.
As if! He had had a good mind to tell her that he remembered perfectly well, the exact way to turn a porcupine into a pincushion and many more things besides.
The erroneous good opinion that he had formed of Professor McGonagall's good sense flew out of the window as soon as she had started questioning him about somebody he was expected to know. But how could know who she was talking about, if she never mentioned the name?
After that he had had an extremely fatiguing time in trying to convince them that he was perfectly happy with his name. Unfortunately these two worthy people thought otherwise. They had been bent on forcing a new name onto him, because it seemed that he was in the year 1995. They had also mentioned the possibility that it was the result of one of their experiments. He hoped that they would be able to transport him back soon.
Out of sheer exhaustion of trying to make the two see sense, he had given in to their whims. He was proud of the name he had hit upon.
Sleep slowly crept into him. His fellow Gryffindors.well, he would cross the bridge when he came to it.