A/N Thanks once again to my beta, Maria.
Pogrebin is a small Russian demon that stalks humans, projecting a sense of despair onto its prey with the objective of getting them to fall down sobbing. If they do, the less than a foot tall Pogrebin will attempt to eat them. They are classified as only XXX because they are easily gotten rid of with any spell or even kicking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How is the girl doing in her classes?"
Armando Dippet paused to consider the visiting auror's question.
Master Shackleton had told him that he wasn't even sure the child could read or write. When Shackleton had given her parchment and a quill, the girl had tried to eat the quill.
Master Tofty reported that the girl had not yet mastered the elementary 'Wingardium Leviosa' incantation.
Dippet had himself barred her from attending any further Divination lessons.
Kettleburn had banned her from attending his classes, quite an accomplishment considering she had never actually been enrolled in one.
That Pomfrey was not there to give a testament of her abilities was evidence in and of itself.
"She is adjusting quite well, Mr. Moody. She does particularly well in the History of Magic course."
The auror glanced to Dumbledore in response to the Transfiguration Master's unconvincing attempt to mask a chuckle with a cough.
"How about your class, Dumbledore? Has she shown any talent in Transfiguration?"
Master Dumbledore managed to look both chagrined and amused as he responded.
"I'm not entirely sure. She hasn't actually been awake during my class yet."
The auror looked troubled by the revelation.
"You let her sleep through your class?"
"I only let her do it once." Dumbledore went on to admit, "But then, she has only had my class once so…" Dumbledore offered an amused shrug.
Moody frowned.
"You of all people should be taking this situation more seriously, Albus. Have you forgotten the prophecy? Your life is in danger!"
Dippet looked on as Dumbledore rolled his eyes. Master Viinder was indeed correct, appreciation, understanding of the potential importance of the art of Divination was quite rare in those not themselves gifted with the Sight.
"Alastor, she is a child. I refuse to treat her any differently than I would any other student."
Mr. Moody continued to frown.
"I know she is only a child. For Merlin's sake, I'm not suggesting you take Artemisia's advice and -"
Involuntarily, Dippet's eyes darted to the center drawer of his desk. There he kept a store of potion for the times when his Visions kept too long at bay the respite of dreamless sleep. Since the revelation of the girl's presence at the school, he had added next to that store a different sort of sleeping draught. A painless poison from which there was no wake.
"-Kill her, but you should recognize her as a possible threat. Certainly the Minister sees her as a potential danger and he expects me to provide him with a thorough report of her abilities and progress.
Dumbledore held up a hand to stay the auror's onslaught.
"Alastor, she is in a late morning class of mine tomorrow. If you care to speak to me by Floo or stop back again, I will have information for you."
*******************************************
Armando Dippet felt more than slightly ill, having watched the child again begin eating cubes of sugar upon her arrival for afternoon tea. As he looked on, he could feel the beginnings of a headache forming at the edges of his mind.
He half believed the child could sense it too and desired to prey upon the weakness. Or perhaps, it was the added energy from the sugar. Either way, she began to swing her legs and made a quite grating pattering noise by hitting the heels of her shoes against her chair legs.
"Do not hit your chair."
The girl's attention had been wandering the shelves. At his words, she turned to face him. The swinging and the noise continued.
Dippet repeated himself slightly louder.
"No more kicking your chair."
She looked directly at him, but not only did she not stop, she seemed to be doing it more.
Exasperated, Dippet barked loud enough to disturb the portraits lining his walls.
"Stop kicking this instant!"
The girl looked startled, but not at all contrite. She tilted her head, looking at him as if her were a great curiosity. Speculating that perhaps it was boredom that was making the child so disagreeable, Dippet offered a suggestion.
"Would you like to play a game of checkers?"
"I can play chess."
Not this again. Dippet sighed.
After a minute without a response, the girl took a sip of her milk and then went back to her sugar.
"No more milk and sugar, it will ruin your dinner."
In direct contradiction, the girl picked up the creamer of milk. She poured enough milk into the sugar bowl to almost cover all of the cubes. Dippet shuddered as she used the spoon from her teacup to eat the blend as if it were cereal.
Dippet was startled a moment later to hear another voice.
"Please tell me that I am not actually seeing this. That isn't really a bowl of sugar you are letting Kitten eat?"
Dippet turned to the newly arrived Care of Magical Creatures Master. Though he was not at all pleased with the girl's conduct, he really had no interest in discussing it with Kettleburn.
"Please tell me that you did not just enter my office without knocking. Is there a purpose to this visit, Master Kettleburn?"
"I need your signature on my Pogrebin order."
As Dippet took care of the necessary forms, he observed Kettleburn's interaction with the girl. While certainly it was unfortunate that the girl no longer held Master Kettleburn in favor, Dippet found it nonetheless reassuring to see that being difficult was not a behavior she set aside exclusively for him.
"Hello Kitten."
The girl's only response was a turn of her head, apparently to avoid the unwanted sight before her.
Ignoring the slight, Master Kettleburn persisted.
"Are you enjoying your classes?"
After an uninterrupted pause, Kettleburn gave a sigh.
"Well, I guess you just want to be left alone."
That managed to get a steely response from the girl.
"I just want to see the puffskeins."
Not the best of ideas Dippet realized, considering the way the girl looked at Mr. Keys. Cats were known to eat puffskeins.
"We've already talked about that. Only people who tell the truth can see the puffskeins."
The girl tilted her head inquiringly.
"Than how can you see them to tell people where they are?"
Dippet smirked down into the parchment at the roundabout way the girl had called the Care of Magical Creatures Master a liar.
Kettleburn's sigh told him he was not the only one to make the connection.
"You may not see the puffskeins right now."
The extremely contrary girl became quite animated and her voice sounded incongruously hopeful.
"Right now?"
That's what I said."
Dippet wasn't really sure why the girl left her seat. Kettleburn continued speaking.
"Maybe in time, when you have worked a little on telling the truth, then and only then, will I let you see the puffskeins."
The girl's expression changed and her purpose for rising became clear. As she snapped at the young man, more directly she repeated her earlier comment.
"You are a liar!"
It was Dippet's turn to sigh. This biting habit was very disturbing on so many levels.
********************************************
##########################################
Albus Dumbledore gave a small frown watching the girl again curl up and go to sleep immediately upon entering his classroom. Small children and cats required more sleep than most seventh years and it would seem she had designated the Transfiguration time slot to be her nap hour. Moody would be coming today to get a report on the girl's progress. Beyond her animagus ability, which he could not mention, he had no idea of her knowledge of Transfiguration. He really should wake her, but she looked so comfortable.
As he walked by her desk, he left her a button.
When all the other students began the exercise, it became clear that Tom Riddle was again planning to spend the hour glaring at him with malevolent blue eyes.
"Mr. Riddle, unless you have a question about the theory of the spell, please transform your button into a beetle and begin."
When Tom in no way acknowledged him, Dumbledore approached. Enough was enough. Today, he intended to have everyone participating in his class.
"Tom, get started. Miss McGonagall, it is time to wake up."
Even before he began trying to rouse the girl, Tom was furious.
"Leave Kitten alone!"
When he gently shook her shoulder, Tom looked ready to have a fit.
"Don't touch her!"
Tom ignored Dumbledore's reproaching look.
"Mr. Riddle, concentrate on your own studies."
"Leave her alone, she's tired."
Dumbledore had to admit, the girl certainly did seem tired. His slight shaking of her and the raised voices around her didn't seem to be doing anything to wake her. Just how late was Binns allowing her to stay up? If she was that tired, he would only ask her to give a try or two to a simple transfiguration, such as the button to beetle spell. After that, he would let her go back to sleep, but he needed to have something to tell Moody.
Though the raised voices didn't seem to be getting the girl's attention, the rest of the class seemed to be very interested. Tom seemed to note it because he lowered his voice to a malcontent whisper.
"She's tired almost all the time lately. If you want her to be awake, stop drugging her!"
Dumbledore knew there was much truth to Tom's words, but for the moment they hadn't a better alternative. He reached out and shook the girl slightly harder. Her eyes finally fluttered open and she gave a displeased hiss.
"I would like you to try the beetle transformation."
The girl stretched unhappily and looked around a bit confused. Dumbledore spoke again.
"I know you are tired. I just want you to try the beetle transformation once and then you can go back to sleeping if you like."
The girl blinked and again looked around hazily. Still looking incredibly dreamy, she pulled out her wand. As she raised the wand, Dumbledore realized he had been so distracted by his exchange with Riddle that he had overlooked two very important things. First of all, he had neglected to tell the girl the words to the spell. Secondly, he had failed to get her to notice the button he had left on her desk.
He tried to get her to wait, but he was too late. Powerful words had already been spoken and a bright light was rapidly reaching out to him.
With an almost inappreciable clatter, Dumbledore's six feet touched down on the floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
A/N I briefly mentioned something earlier about it being important to remember that at the time of these events taking place, Dumbledore only has his own thoughts and insights to work from. Dumbledore collected these memories from the various people later, in most cases decades after the events that are now being related. He presented them to Harry and is now in his own mind himself 'reviewing' the events in sequence.
It is important to keep in mind that Dumbledore is not the only one operating under this limitation. For the most part, all the various players are or shortly will be keeping vital information from the others for various reasons. More often than not unless it is specifically indicated to the reader that information was shared, assume it hasn't been.
As the reader begins drawing conclusions, don't be surprised if for this very reason the other characters do not yet or even ever reach the same conclusion.
Just a few examples of information not being shared would be that Binns is obviously not likely anytime soon to tell the others that he is encouraging Minerva to bite, feeding her sugar quills, and allowing her and Tom to sleep together in the Common room at night. Kettleburn, Madame Griselda, Dumbledore, Dippet, Binns, Shackleton, and Pomfrey are all not telling Moody that Minerva is an animagus. Moody, Dumbledore, and Dippet were all present to hear the predictions left by Artemisia and Grindelwald's last words, but Dippet only ever yet spoke of his own predictions in the presence of Artemisia and Grindelwald.
It is going to get more and more important to be aware of exactly who is in attendance when conversations and events take place.
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Thank you for reviewing Laura Kay, CEA, Elayne Sedai, LinZE, and Punurple
Laura Kay - Ack! The speech and dislike of chess was actually Dippet's. Minerva gave the same answer 'I can play chess' each time Dippet asked if she knew how to play checkers. I edited it to add a few words to make the speech being Dippet's more clear. Dippet's speech about his reasons for disliking chess is intended to directly contrast with his actions.
Elayne and Punurple Thanks for the advice on getting italics to work. If it's alright, I might come pounding down on one or both of your inboxes in the next few days for further clarification. I fear I am barely computer literate.
CEA Dippet fears too actively attempting to alter the future. He wants to change it, but he knows - and the reader will quickly learn - such direct action does not always end as planned. Though, as you can see in this chapter, it is a thought that has, not idly, crossed his mind.
LinZE - Armando Dippet will, in time, explain his reasoning for everything and while the reader may disagree with it, it will have a certain logic to it.
Pogrebin is a small Russian demon that stalks humans, projecting a sense of despair onto its prey with the objective of getting them to fall down sobbing. If they do, the less than a foot tall Pogrebin will attempt to eat them. They are classified as only XXX because they are easily gotten rid of with any spell or even kicking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How is the girl doing in her classes?"
Armando Dippet paused to consider the visiting auror's question.
Master Shackleton had told him that he wasn't even sure the child could read or write. When Shackleton had given her parchment and a quill, the girl had tried to eat the quill.
Master Tofty reported that the girl had not yet mastered the elementary 'Wingardium Leviosa' incantation.
Dippet had himself barred her from attending any further Divination lessons.
Kettleburn had banned her from attending his classes, quite an accomplishment considering she had never actually been enrolled in one.
That Pomfrey was not there to give a testament of her abilities was evidence in and of itself.
"She is adjusting quite well, Mr. Moody. She does particularly well in the History of Magic course."
The auror glanced to Dumbledore in response to the Transfiguration Master's unconvincing attempt to mask a chuckle with a cough.
"How about your class, Dumbledore? Has she shown any talent in Transfiguration?"
Master Dumbledore managed to look both chagrined and amused as he responded.
"I'm not entirely sure. She hasn't actually been awake during my class yet."
The auror looked troubled by the revelation.
"You let her sleep through your class?"
"I only let her do it once." Dumbledore went on to admit, "But then, she has only had my class once so…" Dumbledore offered an amused shrug.
Moody frowned.
"You of all people should be taking this situation more seriously, Albus. Have you forgotten the prophecy? Your life is in danger!"
Dippet looked on as Dumbledore rolled his eyes. Master Viinder was indeed correct, appreciation, understanding of the potential importance of the art of Divination was quite rare in those not themselves gifted with the Sight.
"Alastor, she is a child. I refuse to treat her any differently than I would any other student."
Mr. Moody continued to frown.
"I know she is only a child. For Merlin's sake, I'm not suggesting you take Artemisia's advice and -"
Involuntarily, Dippet's eyes darted to the center drawer of his desk. There he kept a store of potion for the times when his Visions kept too long at bay the respite of dreamless sleep. Since the revelation of the girl's presence at the school, he had added next to that store a different sort of sleeping draught. A painless poison from which there was no wake.
"-Kill her, but you should recognize her as a possible threat. Certainly the Minister sees her as a potential danger and he expects me to provide him with a thorough report of her abilities and progress.
Dumbledore held up a hand to stay the auror's onslaught.
"Alastor, she is in a late morning class of mine tomorrow. If you care to speak to me by Floo or stop back again, I will have information for you."
*******************************************
Armando Dippet felt more than slightly ill, having watched the child again begin eating cubes of sugar upon her arrival for afternoon tea. As he looked on, he could feel the beginnings of a headache forming at the edges of his mind.
He half believed the child could sense it too and desired to prey upon the weakness. Or perhaps, it was the added energy from the sugar. Either way, she began to swing her legs and made a quite grating pattering noise by hitting the heels of her shoes against her chair legs.
"Do not hit your chair."
The girl's attention had been wandering the shelves. At his words, she turned to face him. The swinging and the noise continued.
Dippet repeated himself slightly louder.
"No more kicking your chair."
She looked directly at him, but not only did she not stop, she seemed to be doing it more.
Exasperated, Dippet barked loud enough to disturb the portraits lining his walls.
"Stop kicking this instant!"
The girl looked startled, but not at all contrite. She tilted her head, looking at him as if her were a great curiosity. Speculating that perhaps it was boredom that was making the child so disagreeable, Dippet offered a suggestion.
"Would you like to play a game of checkers?"
"I can play chess."
Not this again. Dippet sighed.
After a minute without a response, the girl took a sip of her milk and then went back to her sugar.
"No more milk and sugar, it will ruin your dinner."
In direct contradiction, the girl picked up the creamer of milk. She poured enough milk into the sugar bowl to almost cover all of the cubes. Dippet shuddered as she used the spoon from her teacup to eat the blend as if it were cereal.
Dippet was startled a moment later to hear another voice.
"Please tell me that I am not actually seeing this. That isn't really a bowl of sugar you are letting Kitten eat?"
Dippet turned to the newly arrived Care of Magical Creatures Master. Though he was not at all pleased with the girl's conduct, he really had no interest in discussing it with Kettleburn.
"Please tell me that you did not just enter my office without knocking. Is there a purpose to this visit, Master Kettleburn?"
"I need your signature on my Pogrebin order."
As Dippet took care of the necessary forms, he observed Kettleburn's interaction with the girl. While certainly it was unfortunate that the girl no longer held Master Kettleburn in favor, Dippet found it nonetheless reassuring to see that being difficult was not a behavior she set aside exclusively for him.
"Hello Kitten."
The girl's only response was a turn of her head, apparently to avoid the unwanted sight before her.
Ignoring the slight, Master Kettleburn persisted.
"Are you enjoying your classes?"
After an uninterrupted pause, Kettleburn gave a sigh.
"Well, I guess you just want to be left alone."
That managed to get a steely response from the girl.
"I just want to see the puffskeins."
Not the best of ideas Dippet realized, considering the way the girl looked at Mr. Keys. Cats were known to eat puffskeins.
"We've already talked about that. Only people who tell the truth can see the puffskeins."
The girl tilted her head inquiringly.
"Than how can you see them to tell people where they are?"
Dippet smirked down into the parchment at the roundabout way the girl had called the Care of Magical Creatures Master a liar.
Kettleburn's sigh told him he was not the only one to make the connection.
"You may not see the puffskeins right now."
The extremely contrary girl became quite animated and her voice sounded incongruously hopeful.
"Right now?"
That's what I said."
Dippet wasn't really sure why the girl left her seat. Kettleburn continued speaking.
"Maybe in time, when you have worked a little on telling the truth, then and only then, will I let you see the puffskeins."
The girl's expression changed and her purpose for rising became clear. As she snapped at the young man, more directly she repeated her earlier comment.
"You are a liar!"
It was Dippet's turn to sigh. This biting habit was very disturbing on so many levels.
********************************************
##########################################
Albus Dumbledore gave a small frown watching the girl again curl up and go to sleep immediately upon entering his classroom. Small children and cats required more sleep than most seventh years and it would seem she had designated the Transfiguration time slot to be her nap hour. Moody would be coming today to get a report on the girl's progress. Beyond her animagus ability, which he could not mention, he had no idea of her knowledge of Transfiguration. He really should wake her, but she looked so comfortable.
As he walked by her desk, he left her a button.
When all the other students began the exercise, it became clear that Tom Riddle was again planning to spend the hour glaring at him with malevolent blue eyes.
"Mr. Riddle, unless you have a question about the theory of the spell, please transform your button into a beetle and begin."
When Tom in no way acknowledged him, Dumbledore approached. Enough was enough. Today, he intended to have everyone participating in his class.
"Tom, get started. Miss McGonagall, it is time to wake up."
Even before he began trying to rouse the girl, Tom was furious.
"Leave Kitten alone!"
When he gently shook her shoulder, Tom looked ready to have a fit.
"Don't touch her!"
Tom ignored Dumbledore's reproaching look.
"Mr. Riddle, concentrate on your own studies."
"Leave her alone, she's tired."
Dumbledore had to admit, the girl certainly did seem tired. His slight shaking of her and the raised voices around her didn't seem to be doing anything to wake her. Just how late was Binns allowing her to stay up? If she was that tired, he would only ask her to give a try or two to a simple transfiguration, such as the button to beetle spell. After that, he would let her go back to sleep, but he needed to have something to tell Moody.
Though the raised voices didn't seem to be getting the girl's attention, the rest of the class seemed to be very interested. Tom seemed to note it because he lowered his voice to a malcontent whisper.
"She's tired almost all the time lately. If you want her to be awake, stop drugging her!"
Dumbledore knew there was much truth to Tom's words, but for the moment they hadn't a better alternative. He reached out and shook the girl slightly harder. Her eyes finally fluttered open and she gave a displeased hiss.
"I would like you to try the beetle transformation."
The girl stretched unhappily and looked around a bit confused. Dumbledore spoke again.
"I know you are tired. I just want you to try the beetle transformation once and then you can go back to sleeping if you like."
The girl blinked and again looked around hazily. Still looking incredibly dreamy, she pulled out her wand. As she raised the wand, Dumbledore realized he had been so distracted by his exchange with Riddle that he had overlooked two very important things. First of all, he had neglected to tell the girl the words to the spell. Secondly, he had failed to get her to notice the button he had left on her desk.
He tried to get her to wait, but he was too late. Powerful words had already been spoken and a bright light was rapidly reaching out to him.
With an almost inappreciable clatter, Dumbledore's six feet touched down on the floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
A/N I briefly mentioned something earlier about it being important to remember that at the time of these events taking place, Dumbledore only has his own thoughts and insights to work from. Dumbledore collected these memories from the various people later, in most cases decades after the events that are now being related. He presented them to Harry and is now in his own mind himself 'reviewing' the events in sequence.
It is important to keep in mind that Dumbledore is not the only one operating under this limitation. For the most part, all the various players are or shortly will be keeping vital information from the others for various reasons. More often than not unless it is specifically indicated to the reader that information was shared, assume it hasn't been.
As the reader begins drawing conclusions, don't be surprised if for this very reason the other characters do not yet or even ever reach the same conclusion.
Just a few examples of information not being shared would be that Binns is obviously not likely anytime soon to tell the others that he is encouraging Minerva to bite, feeding her sugar quills, and allowing her and Tom to sleep together in the Common room at night. Kettleburn, Madame Griselda, Dumbledore, Dippet, Binns, Shackleton, and Pomfrey are all not telling Moody that Minerva is an animagus. Moody, Dumbledore, and Dippet were all present to hear the predictions left by Artemisia and Grindelwald's last words, but Dippet only ever yet spoke of his own predictions in the presence of Artemisia and Grindelwald.
It is going to get more and more important to be aware of exactly who is in attendance when conversations and events take place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Thank you for reviewing Laura Kay, CEA, Elayne Sedai, LinZE, and Punurple
Laura Kay - Ack! The speech and dislike of chess was actually Dippet's. Minerva gave the same answer 'I can play chess' each time Dippet asked if she knew how to play checkers. I edited it to add a few words to make the speech being Dippet's more clear. Dippet's speech about his reasons for disliking chess is intended to directly contrast with his actions.
Elayne and Punurple Thanks for the advice on getting italics to work. If it's alright, I might come pounding down on one or both of your inboxes in the next few days for further clarification. I fear I am barely computer literate.
CEA Dippet fears too actively attempting to alter the future. He wants to change it, but he knows - and the reader will quickly learn - such direct action does not always end as planned. Though, as you can see in this chapter, it is a thought that has, not idly, crossed his mind.
LinZE - Armando Dippet will, in time, explain his reasoning for everything and while the reader may disagree with it, it will have a certain logic to it.