Chapter 40
A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this. As always, I make numerous changes after I send the supposedly final copy to Maria so any errors remaining are entirely my fault.
I really can't stress enough how important it is to go back and make sure you read Chapters 38 and 39 in their entirety. made some changes to the chapter numbering and I had some issues with uploading the first three times I tried to load the new chapters. They are different chapters than they once were.
Albus Dumbledore had no reason to be in the dungeons - or so Headmaster Dippet had informed him. Dumbledore held Dippet in great regard, but in this one instance, he could not, would not respect his wishes. It was only his intention to speak to Binns, to again attempt to press upon him the importance of monitoring Riddle. It was not his intention to involve himself, but when he was passing by he overheard Riddle's panicked shouts.
Dumbledore made his way right to the Head Boy's room. Tom was standing before the open wardrobe. Clothes and other various sundries littered the floor.
"Tom, what's going on?"
Frantic was not a look Tom Riddle wore well. "Kitten and I were playing hide and seek, but now I can't find her."
Even for a child as young as Minerva the room had few adequate hiding spots. Dumbledore looked in the bathroom and then crossed the room to look behind the curtains.
"No, you don't understand! I watched her go into the wardrobe! She never came out!"
Dumbledore gave Tom a startled look. He was about to head over to the wardrobe to check himself, when he glimpsed a small hand poking out slightly from under the bed.
The hand was bruised and slick with red blood.
Dumbledore's first thought was that Tom had lost his temper and taken it out on the girl. Kneeling down, his breath caught as in the scant light reaching under the bed, he saw that the bruising and hemorrhaging extended much further than just her hand. He didn't want to recognize the symptoms.
Dumbledore's voice quavered as he questioned Tom. "You were watching? You are sure she couldn't have slipped out?"
"No, she couldn't have. I was watching her the whole time."
Tom's words confirmed what the dull, lifeless look in the girl's still open eyes was telling him. She had tried to apparate from within the school grounds. It would seem no one had ever realized it was necessary to tell her that there existed wards around the school to prevent people from successfully apparating in or disapparating out.
While an individual could attempt to apparate within the anti-apparition field, as they tried to move through it they would experience a resisting force, pushing them back. It started off as a slightly painful pressure, designed to work as a warning. If however a person persisted, the pressure exerted would increase as if in proportion to the effort, seeking to impel the person back. While theoretically, given enough power, it might be possible to overcome the wards, the protective enchantments ensured that any individual attempting to do so would experience such an overwhelming force that just the circulation of blood caused by the heart beating would be enough stress to rupture all the vessels the blood traveled through.
Such an unspeakably painful way to die. The child had exsanguinated with the blood coming out of almost every pore. In the few areas where the red stain of blood did not hide her now nearly translucent skin, the rupture of her blood vessels was visible. A torrent of blood had marked a passage from her nose across her cheek and down to the stone beneath where it pooled. 'Had' being the significant word. No longer did even the slightest trickle of blood emerge from her.
No, an individual could try to apparate, but he would hardly call this a success.
In answering the question Tom had turned and noticed him kneeling on the other side of the bed. As Tom started to approach, Dumbledore gently warned him away. "Tom, don't. You don't need to see this."
When Tom ignored his words and approached anyway, Dumbledore pulled the top most blanket from the bed. "I'm sorry, Tom. She apparated...the wards around the school…she's gone." As he began to cover the girl, seeking to shield Tom from seeing that ghastly sight, Dumbledore could hear a sound, something like a whimper.
It hadn't come from Tom.
The girl wasn't dead…yet.
It was pointless really, more for show than anything else. He did it for the boy's benefit, not out of any hope for the girl. Though Dumbledore hadn't wanted Riddle near the girl, hadn't trusted him, he would even reluctantly go so far as to say he didn't like the boy, he wouldn't have wished this on his worst enemy. As for the girl, it was cruel more than anything else, an attempt to prolong her suffering with no real chance of survival. Still, he did it. He covered her completely with the blanket, bundling it as tightly as possible to stem the loss of what little blood she might have left. With the bundle in his arms and Tom at his heels, he sprinted all the way to the school infirmary.
He ran, but there was no sense of real urgency. Just the certainty of the futility of it all. Madame Griselda was quite apt, but even a roomful of St. Mungo's most skilled could have offered the girl no hope. It was remarkable as he ran, how clear his mind was. How unclouded with panic it was. So many thoughts passed through his mind as he made the journey. He thought about how he would have liked to have gotten to know this incredibly remarkable child and how none of Artemisia's foolish predictions had had time to come true. He thought about the pointlessness of Dippet's warnings and how Moody needn't worry anymore either. He realized if Tom knew with certainty where the girl was hiding the boy must have been cheating.
Setting the girl down on an exam table before the startled Madame Griselda, he explained the situation to her in two words. "She apparated."
As Madame Griselda with shaking hands began unwrapping that very precious bundle, not wanting to have Tom see or to himself again see that horrid sight, Dumbledore pulled Tom back. Pushing away his speculations about exactly what kind of person feels the need to cheat in a game against an eight year old, he tried to offer some comfort to the boy. Despite anything else he might have thought or felt about Tom Riddle, it was clear he had very much loved the girl. "I am sorry, Tom."
The boy shook his head and shrugged off the comforting arm Dumbledore had placed on his shoulder. "Stop saying that! She isn't dead! She can't be dead!" The boy's face was pain masked with anger. Knowing the boy needed something or someone to be angry at, Dumbledore allowed the boy to rail against him.
Madame Griselda lifted up part of the blanket to look at the girl, but with a gasp let it slip out of her hand and cover the girl again. As she spoke and made the sign of the cross, mind still clear as ever, Dumbledore noted for the first time that Madame Griselda was a muggle born.
"Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!"
Lifting the blanket ever so slightly a second time, Madame Griselda could visibly be seen to swallow. The elderly woman hesitated as she spoke. "Go…go and find Kettleburn…and for God's sake don't dawdle!"
Despite having no idea why the school nurse would request the Care of Magical Creatures professor, Dumbledore didn't delay in asking questions. Tom went out to check the grounds as Dumbledore checked Kettleburn's office and then the faculty lounge. Returning with Kettleburn, Dumbledore remained outside the infirmary. There he explained the situation to the Headmaster and Moody who had witnessed the two Professors running down a passageway. There, despite the sounds of breaking glass and falling equipment that could only mean the pair in the room were working desperately in an effort to save the girl, the trio, soon a quartet with the return of a panting Tom Riddle, solemnly awaited news of the inevitable.
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Entering the infirmary, Kevric Kettleburn moved to the form still draped by a blanket. Lifting the blanket, he could tell immediately why the school nurse had chosen to send for him.
Hesitantly, the woman inquired of him. "Have you ever seen _anything_ like this?"
He shook his head slightly. He knew she wasn't referring to the results of the attempt to apparate, but rather the…other thing that had started to…bleed out of her. "No. Never." Never wasn't precisely true. He actually had seen such a thing before, just never coming out of a human, be it wizard or Muggle.
"Well, what should we do?"
No more knowledgeable in the matter than the older, more experienced woman, Kettleburn just shrugged. "Nothing?"
He could tell by the woman's frown that she didn't like that idea, but neither did she offer a better solution. After only a few minutes, it appeared his suggestion had paid off.
A slight whimper preceded the blinking of Kitten's eyes.
He leaned closer and ignoring the very disturbing…blood that was matting it, stroked the girl's hair. "Well, hello there."
Despite the girl's miraculous survival, she did not appear to have escaped entirely unaffected. She seemed to still be in quite a bit of pain. Not wishing to have her become alarmed, Kevric did his best to keep her from noticing the…blood on her.
Quietly, but emphatically she spoke. "I do _not_ like that game."
Kevric smiled slightly. "No, I don't imagine you would, but that is something we can talk about later."
Kitten gave a weak hiss at the nurse as she neared with a vial of potion to lessen the girl's discomfort. Eyes still trained suspiciously on the nurse, Kitten made a request of him. "Make her go away."
Sensibly, rather than try to get the girl to drink the potion herself, Madame Griselda held it out to him. Kettleburn shook his head. Really, he didn't want to give Kitten anything, but he wouldn't have her suffering needlessly. "Just something to help her get to sleep."
Madame Griselda pursed her lips disapprovingly, but retrieved the potion he had requested. Only with the assurance that he would be taking her back to his office shortly did he manage to get the girl to drink it.
After Kitten drifted off to sleep Madame Griselda continued to stare at the girl in wonder. Finally shaking her head she spoke. "I always heard cats have nine lives, but…"
She turned to head to the door, but Kevric called her back.
"I'm just going to let the others know the child is fine."
Kevric shook his head. "No, you can't do that." He paused for a moment to consider how to handle the situation. Sweeping his arm across a nearby table, he deliberately knocked all the vials and instruments to the floor.
As he moved on to a nearby shelf to do the same, Madame Griselda gave a gasp. "What _are_ you doing?"
"This room has to look like we struggled desperately to save the girl's life." Crossing to a nearby cabinet he pulled out a clean set of clothes. Returning to the sleeping girl, very gently he removed her robes and undergarments. After cleaning her, he slipped a fresh nightdress over her head. It was sized for students much older and hung both long and loosely on her. Anticipating the same problem with the undergarments, Kevric didn't even bother with them. Piling the spoiled clothes with the blanket the girl had arrived in, he handed the pile to Madame Griselda. "Burn it all."
"And then what?"
"And then…" Kevric really wasn't sure what to do next. "And then…I don't know read a book for a few hours or something."
Kevric Kettleburn walked back to the front of the library. That there weren't any books on Themis or Purebloods in the regular sections of the library surprised him, but not greatly. Moving to the Restricted Section, with a look he dared the old librarian to ask to see a pass.
He might be young for his position, only in his early fifties, but he was experienced in his field and had the lack of fingers to prove it. It was bad enough this was his seventh year teaching at the school and Robert Binns refused to bother to learn his name, still referring to him as 'the new hire' or Perkins, the name Robert called everyone whose real name he couldn't remember. Still, as qualified as he knew he was, he was freely willing to admit there were still things he didn't know or understand. Like what happened yesterday.
Glancing through the titles, he frowned. There were no books on the topic he wanted. He did however notice a significant gap on the shelf he was searching. There were books on severing and shielding charms followed by a large empty space before the books about time turners, trolls, unicorns, veela, and werewolves started.
As he stared at the titles, the decrepit scent of lingering death began to waft towards him. Without even turning around Kevric asked a question of the librarian who had wandered up behind him, no doubt to make certain he was not 'besmirching' the books. "Doesn't the library have any books on Themises? Or even Purebloods in general?"
"Headmaster took them all out yesterday afternoon."
Kevric found that most interesting. "Afternoon or evening?"
The aged man narrowed his eyes in response. "I am aware of the difference."
Kevric raised an eyebrow while trying to make sense of it. The librarian misinterpreted his response and raised the book in his hand in a threatening manner. More afraid of what effect the effort involved in swinging might have on the librarian than being hit, Kevric decided to leave. Not wanting to leave entirely empty handed, he snatched the few books on unicorns that he did not already have copies of in his private collection.
Leaving the library, Kevric headed to the Deputy Headmaster's office. Even if Shackleton didn't have any books on Themises exclusively, he would no doubt have chapters on them in his books on dark creatures in general.
Shackleton couldn't even be bothered to pick up his head and stop doodling to answer. "Can't help you there. Dippet absconded with them all yesterday afternoon."
Kevric frowned. "What can you tell me about Themises?"
Still concentrated on his parchments, Shackleton answered in a dull, almost bored voice.
"Well, they are definitely classified as a kind of dark creature. They are soulless. Like werewolves and Quintaped, they started off as humans, but can't exactly be classified like that anymore.
They generally have an innate skill at wandless magic. As you know, wandless magic is much more difficult to undo than wand magic. Mind you, it is doable, but a lot more time and effort are involved. Hence, Dippet's refusal to consider taking the girl's wand away from her during or even after the beetle incident."
This rambling wasn't really getting him the information he wanted, so Kevric tried to steer the conversation. "Do they have any similarities to…other creatures?"
After dipping his quill into the ink and switching parchments, Shackleton droned on.
"Certainly. Like veela, they are considered to be somewhat succubus-like. But veela are shallow, very self involved. It's all about what they want. Themises are more extroverted. They like to spread their misery and despair.
Themises aren't anywhere near as strong as trolls, but they are considered far more dangerous because of their wizard-like intellect. They are sort of like leprechauns or imps in that way. Of course, leprechauns and imps are more mischievous while Themises are malicious.
Essentially, Themises are just evil."
Kevric shook his head. "You can't be serious, Shackleton. I mean sure I've heard stories, I know the things that some people who happened to bear the Themis name have done, but that doesn't make them all evil. Surely, you don't consider Kitten to be evil?"
Shackleton gave an unconcerned shrug, but kept his attention diligently focused on the parchment he was sketching on. "I thought you of all people would understand. You deal with creatures all day. Good and bad, those are just words. Virtuous or evil, merely ideas and ideals that we humans allocate each other. They have no meaning to or effect on other creatures. Beasts have no morals, they live according to their nature."
Dipping his quill into the inkpot, Shackleton briefly looked up in what Kevric supposed was meant as a reassuring manner. "I don't blame the girl. It's simply her nature. I don't hold her anymore responsible for her actions than I would a Red Cap or a hippogriff. But, if you inquire of me, 'do I think she is evil'? Yes, I do."
Kevric refused to give in. "Well, you're wrong."
Shackleton shrugged indifferently as he held a finished parchment up to the light for inspection. "Hagrid is fond of her. He stopped by earlier and was asking after her. If you ask me, that's proof enough. That boy is only ever interested in the most dangerous specimens he can find."
Kevric tried again to steer the conversation to the answers he sought. "Are there any concrete physical differences? Well, for example, Themises are considered to be purebloods. Their very blood is supposed to be more magical." As casually as he could, Kevric asked his next question. "Does it show in any way?"
Shackleton rubbed with his finger at an ink smear. "I don't follow what you mean."
Watching carefully for any reaction from the older professor, Kevric offered up a suggestion as nonchalantly as he could. "Say in coloring or -"
Still rubbing at the smear, Shackleton absentmindedly interrupted him. "Definitely. Dark hair, grey eyes, and pale skin are their hallmarks."
Kevric gave up. Binns was right, Shackleton was beyond useless. Still, there was one piece of information he might be able to get from Shackleton. "How did Dippet seem yesterday, when he came for the books?"
That got Shackleton's full attention. He looked up and actually laid down his quill to respond. "So you noticed it too?" Shackleton went on to answer confidently and with far more enthusiasm than was appropriate. "Tired. Rundown. Ill. Old. I can't imagine he will be with us much longer."
That answer wasn't very helpful. Whenever Dippet even so much as sneezed Shackleton began practicing the memorial speech he planned to recite to the students and staff. "I meant, did he seem at all bothered, nervous or evasive?"
"Oh. Can't say I noticed anything like that."
More than a bit frustrated, Kevric left Shackleton alone to continue shading over the word 'Deputy' in his title on all the official school parchments.
Returning to the small room off of his office where he usually kept the creatures he wanted to keep quarantined, Kevric discovered still sleeping Kitten had another visitor besides Tom Riddle. While Kevric was slightly concerned that the girl was still sleeping almost a full day later, he found reassurance in the knowledge that it was natural sleep caused by exhaustion. When he had prodded her too much while examining her earlier that morning she had responded by hissing and trying to scratch at his face until he let her go back to sleep. The attempt had been weak and not up to her usual vehemence, but still he thought it good progress.
He had allowed Tom in to see the girl late last night once he had her settled in here. The boy had been desperate with worry. Since then, Tom had refused to leave. Of course, Tom had not at all approved of him doing things that had bothered the girl. Riddle had tried to stop him from continuing the exam or trying to exam the girl again later. In the end, Kevric had agreed with the boy and let the girl continue sleeping. Though he was the Care of Magical Creatures Professor and the girl would definitely qualify as a magical creature, he hoped she knew her own needs better than he did because quite frankly he hadn't a clue what to do for her. Potions and healing charms were all well and fine but sleep was a far more powerful restorative.
He had left the very devoted Tom alone with the sleeping child while he went out for a few minutes to the library in search of some answers. His instructions to not to let anyone else in had been very clear, yet still he found someone other than just Tom in the room with the girl.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster."
The Headmaster was gazing at the girl, clearly concerned. He turned and spoke softly as not to wake the girl. "Master Kettleburn. You will have to excuse Mr. Riddle's disregard for your order. I outrank you. Miss Grindelwald seems to be doing remarkably well given the circumstances. You and Madame Griselda are to be commended. Not literally of course, no doubt the Ministry is most displeased with your performance."
Kevric nodded, but the Headmaster had already turned his gaze back to the girl. Kevric took a moment to consider the man before him. He would hardly call Armando Dippet an intriguing man, yet there were some spots in the man's past that could be described as interesting. There had been plenty of rumors and speculation about Dippet years ago following the holocaust at the Wizengot. Specifically, most regarded his relationship with Kitten's mother years ago. Well, to be more accurate the speculation was more about a relationship _with_ Mnemosyne Themis and possible relation _to_ Artemisia.
Despite the fact that it was as a salamander that Dippet had managed to survive the fire in the Ministry, more than a few people suggested that had she wanted to, Mnemosyne could have made the fire burn Dippet the salamander as well. Not an all together unreasonable suggestion given that her fire never spread, it burned only in the room she desired. Some thought it simply professional courtesy from one Seer to another. There had never been proof of any other relationship between the two. Still, the allegation alone was nearly enough to prevent Dippet from being appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts. As Dippet was well known to say, 'we must not allow for even the appearance of impropriety'.
It would have been interesting, Kevric thought, to see how Dippet had interacted with the girl's mother. To see if there was any validity to the rumors. Watching now and having seen before Dippet's interaction with this particular girl, Kevric would have to guess the rumors were unfounded. The Headmaster certainly looked worried, even anxious and perhaps remorseful, but not nearly enough for that to be the case.
Still, one could never tell. The Headmaster was a reserved man and usually well in control of his emotions. Stepping back into his office, Kevric decided to give the man a few minutes before confronting him.
Seated at his desk, Kevric had a perfect view into his quarantine room. When Dippet exited it, Kevric motioned for the Headmaster to close the door. He started the conversation with something else that had been bothering him for a while.
"Tom is very devoted to Kitten."
Dippet recognized and responded to the implication of his tone. "You say that as though it were a bad thing."
"I just wonder if it might not be the healthiest thing for him, given his personal history."
The Headmaster seemed unconcerned as he brushed the suggestion aside. "Would that we all had someone so devoted to us."
Kevric was disappointed to have the matter so carelessly disregarded, but promising himself to bring it up again later let it go for the moment. "I would like to take at the books you took out of the library."
Dippet's total lack of…attempt at subtlety or pretense in answering caught him by surprise. "No."
"I have some questions. I want to get some background information on Kitten and her…." Kind? Her species? He didn't want to say it out loud, as if by not saying it he was somehow taking credence away from the idea that the child wasn't…well wasn't quite a real child. "…On Kitten."
"What is it you wish to know, Master Kettleburn?"
Was he just imagining it or had there been a touch of suspicion, or was it apprehension, in Dippet's reply? Kevric wasn't sure. If only he could be sure the Headmaster already knew, but he wasn't. "Just basic information on how to care for…Kitten."
This time he felt almost certain that in Dippet's response there was suspicion and deceit. "There is no need of consulting a book for that. Themis children are just like ordinary children in most respects. Was there anything else? Something more specific that you wished to address?"
Almost certain. He felt almost certain that Dippet was holding something back. But not completely certain. Having already likely tipped the Headmaster off that something was wrong, Kevric had no desire to narrow down the possibilities. He let the matter drop. "Nothing specific."
Their eyes locked for a moment in recognition that neither was telling the truth. Eventually Dippet broke the silence.
"Has she had the mandrake potion yet today?"
Kevric shook his head. "No, I haven't given it to her."
"You will need to wake her and get her to take it."
"I'm not giving it to her anymore. I don't want to introduce anything unnatural into her system while she is recovering."
It was quite clear his refusal did not sit well with the Headmaster. "She needs to take it. Mr. Moody has already been back once today to check on her condition. Others may come as well. We cannot have them discovering that she is an unregistered animagus."
Still Kevric held his ground. "Then register her because I am not giving her anything that isn't necessary. Tell them she learned it in her Transfiguration lessons."
"Master Kettleburn, that will not work. Mr. Moody is already aware of what transpired during the girl's lessons, specifically that there really weren't any lessons. Besides, even the Minister is not foolish enough to believe she just happened to have the same animagus form as the one she was purportedly transfigured into for several months."
Kevric was willing to grant the last point, but not the entire argument. "Then just tell them she was an animagus. It is after all quite an accomplishment for someone so young, Pureblood or not."
The look of absolute horror and disgust that transfixed the Headmaster's face told Kevric he had said something wrong.
"An accomplishment? You would call it an accomplishment? Master Kettleburn, I would not have you speak on matters of which you have no understanding. An accomplishment?"
As Dippet went on speaking, he seemed to grow more distressed with each word.
"Master Dumbledore is considered by many to be one of, if not the most powerful wizard of his generation. No doubt when Mistress Marchbanks was here administering the OWLs you heard her go on at length about the things he did with his wand during his own NEWTs. Clearly, he has a detailed knowledge of the field of Transfiguration and yet he has never completed the animagus transformation. Have you ever stopped to consider why? Do you have any idea of what besides power is required? There is necessary such a will, such an overwhelmingly desperate want in order complete a transfiguration of that nature!"
As Dippet went on to describe the conditions during his own animagus transformation, Kevric realized how wrong he had been to entertain the idea that the man had had any sort of an intimate relationship with the woman who caused the ordeal.
"When I underwent my own transformation I did not find it to be a great accomplishment. It was a frenzied effort to stay alive, to find a way to cope. Have you any idea, can you even begin to comprehend what it is like to be trapped in a room surrounded by friends and colleagues, even mere acquaintances, and watch as they are all…." Dippet broke of from that thought, but did continue speaking. "In an animagus form, one does not experience things the way ordinary people do. There is an identification with the chosen animal and in return a lessening of human responses and emotions. Feelings are less complex, more distant.
When it became clear that the girl was an animagus my thoughts were not 'what an accomplishment'. My thoughts were 'why?' What did Grindelwald say or do to her or in front of her to make her so desperately desire to be a cat or to not be a little girl."
Not knowing what to say in response, Kevric said nothing. As Dippet continued speaking his voice seemed to almost fail away.
"And you would speak of it as an accomplishment? No, Master Kettleburn, I would not have you speak on matters of which you have no understanding."
Not really having an adequate response to Dippet's monologue, Kevric allowed for a solemn moment of silence before keeping to his earlier words. "I'll handle keeping Moody away, but I'm not giving Kitten the potion again until I am confident that any danger has passed."
Dippet gave a sigh of disappointment, but made no further attempt to challenge him. In for a knut, why not go in for a galleon? Kevric threw out another idea he had been playing with.
"I'm keeping Kitten in my office for observation right now, but once she is better I'm moving her to Hufflepuff. I wouldn't leave Robert Binns in charge of a flobberworm, never mind a child."
Maybe, despite his initial reluctance, Dippet gave in so easily on the potion issue because he did realize the reasoning to it. Whatever the reason, it didn't follow to Kevric's second request.
"Certainly not, Master Kettleburn. There will be no changing of Houses. Here at Hogwarts, we have certain ways of doing things. The Book selects the children to be invited to attend Hogwarts and the Hat decides which House they are to be placed in. It is tradition. We do not second guess the Sorting Hat."
Kevric really wasn't surprised to have his suggestion refused. Still, it had been worth a try. He had easily followed what the Headmaster was saying…well up until Dippet turned with a look of absolute disdain to the closed door and again spoke.
"And we certainly do not pour corrective fluid on the Book and write in the names we want. Am I making myself clear?"
Before Kevric could ask what exactly corrective fluid was, Dippet swept out of the room.