A/N Again thank you to Maria for taking the time to beta this.
I haven't been getting much feedback lately so I thought I would offer up this little half chapter to see if it could elicit a few responses.
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Albus Dumbledore was in no mood for company. He rose from his chair only when it became clear that the person knocking on his door was not going to go away until he answered it. Opening the door, he was not terribly surprised to discover the identity of the very persistent individual.
"Moody."
He saw the inquisitive way the young man was looking at him, but chose not to comment. There was a very probing look in the auror's eyes when he began to question him.
"Albus, what the bloody hell went on today?"
Dumbledore shook his head. Right now he didn't feel up to going over all the details. "It was a misunderstanding. A miscommunication on my part, nothing more."
The look the auror gave him in return was not one of belief. "Is that what happened or what Dippet told you to say what happened?"
Dumbledore merely shook his head. Since leaving the Headmaster's office, he had been quite troubled. He still refused to believe the prophecy made by Artemisia, but he was more than a bit disconcerted to find that Dippet too Saw the girl as a threat to him in later years.
The meaning of the other man's words was quite clear. Dippet did not want him to develop a relationship with the girl now that might cause him to feel conflicted later were it necessary to battle against her.
Dumbledore had little confidence in the validity of the 'art' of Divination and even less in Artemisia's motives for making the prediction. He had however always held Headmaster Dippet in a higher regard. Dippet was not usually prone to the theatrics often employed by other Seers. That Dippet truly believed…
"Alastor, if you will excuse me, I would greatly prefer to be alone right now."
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Alastor Moody tailed after the two children on their way to the Great Hall for the evening meal. The Riddle boy was carrying the girl. Minerva Grindelwald, Kitten McGonagall, whatever name you called her, there was something more than unsettling about the way the girl stared and hissed at him as he followed behind them.
On entering the Great Hall, Moody noted that not surprisingly, Dumbledore was not at the Head Table. Earlier, Moody had briefly left the girl under the Magical Creature professor's supervision in order to drop in on Dumbledore. The man had seemed if anything even more disturbed than right after the reversal of the transformation.
Moody himself still couldn't get over what had happened. Dumbledore tried to again take responsibility for the girl's action, but Moody suspected the claim was prompted more by Dippet than what had truly happened. He had the unmistakable impression that there was something he wasn't being told.
The girl was eight years old. Moody didn't want to be suspicious of a child; he hated to think one could be capable of such things, and yet there was no mistaking the pure malice that had been in the girl's voice and words. 'He was asking for it!' As if there really existed an offense for which human transfiguration was an appropriate punishment.
He had to keep reminding himself, this was no mere child. She was the product of a powerful curse and had been raised– no, that wasn't the word, 'tainted' or 'corrupted' would be better words- by one of the darkest wizards their world had seen in years. Her thoughts and behavior could not be expected to be in line with that of an ordinary child.
When they reached the Slytherin table, Riddle finally set the girl down. He immediately had to grab her hand to keep her from wandering away.
"We should sit at the table with the big cat pictures over it."
The boy looked not quite angry, but certainly frustrated as he shook his head. "Do we have to have this conversation at every meal? We are Slytherins; we sit at this table. Only the silly Gryffindors sit at that table."
More than a few of the nearby Slytherin students were beginning to give the girl unpleasant looks as she continued trying to tug in the direction of the other table. The looks matched well with those she had already been receiving from the students of the other Houses. Clearly the story had gotten out that she had transfigured the Heads of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff into beetles.
"I want-"
The girl's attention was diverted by the arrival of her own Head of House. "Show some House pride! Here-" Binns shoved a box at her- "Now for Merlin's sake, sit down and let's get this over with!"
The History of Magic professor began filling his plate with various foods while mumbling an incoherent diatribe under his breath. Moody wasn't sure if the elderly man was even aware he was speaking aloud.
Everyone else had begun eating by now, but the plate and goblet before Moody remained spotless. From his pocket, he produced a flask and took a swallow. The girl's plate too remained empty. She was working on a sugar quill instead.
The professor paid her no attention, but Riddle seemed displeased. "Why do they keep feeding you candy?"
When he took the confectionery quill away, the girl hissed at him. The boy had made no effort to stop her on the way to the Great Hall when Moody had been the target, but he attempted to correct the habit now. Somewhat.
"Don't hiss at me. Hiss at the others all you want, but do not hiss at me."
Neither the girl nor the boy seemed particularly upset. The boy pointed to a platter slightly down the table.
"You like chicken. Try that."
The girl swished and flicked her wand while calling out, "Wingardium Leviosa." A single roast chicken leg floated through the air.
Before it could reach her plate, a boy across from her snatched a hand out and grabbed it. The girl scowled as the boy gave a hearty laugh and tore a huge bite out of the leg.
As a voice cried out, "By Jove, now she's done it!" the boy began to clutch at his throat and cough.
At first, Moody didn't really believe it. It couldn't really be happening. Surely the voice was wrong, it couldn't be the girl causing it. Moody looked back at the girl. She was still staring at the boy with that same scowl. Professor Binns seemed to have noticed it too. He sounded outraged as he yelled.
"Stop it!"
The boy dropped the chicken leg and used both hands to clutch at his throat. He no longer had even air enough to cough. Still, the girl didn't stop. Her scowl changed to an expression of interest and she continued staring at the boy. Binns again tried to reprimand her.
"You stop that this instant! There will be no choking at the dinner table!"
The professor's words had no effect on the girl. It was as if he was talking to someone else. Her gaze remained locked on the boy as his color changed from lack of oxygen. The aged professor was shouting desperately.
"I said stop it! Five points from Slytherin!"
Moody scoffed. As if taking House points away was really going to have an effect on her if she was willing to kill a boy over a leg of chicken. Her professor apparently thought so as he continued piling up the points.
"Ten! Twenty!"
The boy was now a very unnatural shade of blue. Time was running out and words were having no effect. Moody grabbed the girl out of her seat by the shoulders. He turned her to face him, breaking her eye contact with the boy she was wandlessly strangling.
"Make it stop!"
The boy was slowly dying. Not knowing what else to do, Moody shook her harshly, trying to break her concentration.
"Make it stop!"
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A/N Thanks for reviewing Mavidian and HMT.
I haven't been getting much feedback lately so I thought I would offer up this little half chapter to see if it could elicit a few responses.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Albus Dumbledore was in no mood for company. He rose from his chair only when it became clear that the person knocking on his door was not going to go away until he answered it. Opening the door, he was not terribly surprised to discover the identity of the very persistent individual.
"Moody."
He saw the inquisitive way the young man was looking at him, but chose not to comment. There was a very probing look in the auror's eyes when he began to question him.
"Albus, what the bloody hell went on today?"
Dumbledore shook his head. Right now he didn't feel up to going over all the details. "It was a misunderstanding. A miscommunication on my part, nothing more."
The look the auror gave him in return was not one of belief. "Is that what happened or what Dippet told you to say what happened?"
Dumbledore merely shook his head. Since leaving the Headmaster's office, he had been quite troubled. He still refused to believe the prophecy made by Artemisia, but he was more than a bit disconcerted to find that Dippet too Saw the girl as a threat to him in later years.
The meaning of the other man's words was quite clear. Dippet did not want him to develop a relationship with the girl now that might cause him to feel conflicted later were it necessary to battle against her.
Dumbledore had little confidence in the validity of the 'art' of Divination and even less in Artemisia's motives for making the prediction. He had however always held Headmaster Dippet in a higher regard. Dippet was not usually prone to the theatrics often employed by other Seers. That Dippet truly believed…
"Alastor, if you will excuse me, I would greatly prefer to be alone right now."
********************************
################################
Alastor Moody tailed after the two children on their way to the Great Hall for the evening meal. The Riddle boy was carrying the girl. Minerva Grindelwald, Kitten McGonagall, whatever name you called her, there was something more than unsettling about the way the girl stared and hissed at him as he followed behind them.
On entering the Great Hall, Moody noted that not surprisingly, Dumbledore was not at the Head Table. Earlier, Moody had briefly left the girl under the Magical Creature professor's supervision in order to drop in on Dumbledore. The man had seemed if anything even more disturbed than right after the reversal of the transformation.
Moody himself still couldn't get over what had happened. Dumbledore tried to again take responsibility for the girl's action, but Moody suspected the claim was prompted more by Dippet than what had truly happened. He had the unmistakable impression that there was something he wasn't being told.
The girl was eight years old. Moody didn't want to be suspicious of a child; he hated to think one could be capable of such things, and yet there was no mistaking the pure malice that had been in the girl's voice and words. 'He was asking for it!' As if there really existed an offense for which human transfiguration was an appropriate punishment.
He had to keep reminding himself, this was no mere child. She was the product of a powerful curse and had been raised– no, that wasn't the word, 'tainted' or 'corrupted' would be better words- by one of the darkest wizards their world had seen in years. Her thoughts and behavior could not be expected to be in line with that of an ordinary child.
When they reached the Slytherin table, Riddle finally set the girl down. He immediately had to grab her hand to keep her from wandering away.
"We should sit at the table with the big cat pictures over it."
The boy looked not quite angry, but certainly frustrated as he shook his head. "Do we have to have this conversation at every meal? We are Slytherins; we sit at this table. Only the silly Gryffindors sit at that table."
More than a few of the nearby Slytherin students were beginning to give the girl unpleasant looks as she continued trying to tug in the direction of the other table. The looks matched well with those she had already been receiving from the students of the other Houses. Clearly the story had gotten out that she had transfigured the Heads of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff into beetles.
"I want-"
The girl's attention was diverted by the arrival of her own Head of House. "Show some House pride! Here-" Binns shoved a box at her- "Now for Merlin's sake, sit down and let's get this over with!"
The History of Magic professor began filling his plate with various foods while mumbling an incoherent diatribe under his breath. Moody wasn't sure if the elderly man was even aware he was speaking aloud.
Everyone else had begun eating by now, but the plate and goblet before Moody remained spotless. From his pocket, he produced a flask and took a swallow. The girl's plate too remained empty. She was working on a sugar quill instead.
The professor paid her no attention, but Riddle seemed displeased. "Why do they keep feeding you candy?"
When he took the confectionery quill away, the girl hissed at him. The boy had made no effort to stop her on the way to the Great Hall when Moody had been the target, but he attempted to correct the habit now. Somewhat.
"Don't hiss at me. Hiss at the others all you want, but do not hiss at me."
Neither the girl nor the boy seemed particularly upset. The boy pointed to a platter slightly down the table.
"You like chicken. Try that."
The girl swished and flicked her wand while calling out, "Wingardium Leviosa." A single roast chicken leg floated through the air.
Before it could reach her plate, a boy across from her snatched a hand out and grabbed it. The girl scowled as the boy gave a hearty laugh and tore a huge bite out of the leg.
As a voice cried out, "By Jove, now she's done it!" the boy began to clutch at his throat and cough.
At first, Moody didn't really believe it. It couldn't really be happening. Surely the voice was wrong, it couldn't be the girl causing it. Moody looked back at the girl. She was still staring at the boy with that same scowl. Professor Binns seemed to have noticed it too. He sounded outraged as he yelled.
"Stop it!"
The boy dropped the chicken leg and used both hands to clutch at his throat. He no longer had even air enough to cough. Still, the girl didn't stop. Her scowl changed to an expression of interest and she continued staring at the boy. Binns again tried to reprimand her.
"You stop that this instant! There will be no choking at the dinner table!"
The professor's words had no effect on the girl. It was as if he was talking to someone else. Her gaze remained locked on the boy as his color changed from lack of oxygen. The aged professor was shouting desperately.
"I said stop it! Five points from Slytherin!"
Moody scoffed. As if taking House points away was really going to have an effect on her if she was willing to kill a boy over a leg of chicken. Her professor apparently thought so as he continued piling up the points.
"Ten! Twenty!"
The boy was now a very unnatural shade of blue. Time was running out and words were having no effect. Moody grabbed the girl out of her seat by the shoulders. He turned her to face him, breaking her eye contact with the boy she was wandlessly strangling.
"Make it stop!"
The boy was slowly dying. Not knowing what else to do, Moody shook her harshly, trying to break her concentration.
"Make it stop!"
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A/N Thanks for reviewing Mavidian and HMT.