Take Three: Mundane (The Everyday On-goings)
Kakashi rolled up the thick, double-ended scroll Tsunade gave him at the beginning of the mission two weeks ago and chakra sealed it. Massaging his neck, the shinobi leaned back against his chair, staring absently at the smouldering embers in the fireplace. Early summer dawn painted the room a vivid golden haze and from his seat, he basked in the morning glow.
"Done already, Kakashi?" yawned his loyal pug, bleary eyes blinking through the young light.
"Sort of." He glanced at Pakkun as the nin-dog burrowed his nose into the pillow of his unkempt bed – the one that the dog usurped sometime between 2 am and 4 am. Another sleepless night. Twirling the quill in his hand, he murmured, "I still have to write the first report back to Tsunade-sama."
Pakkun grunted, "Are you going to talk about how you single-handedly made enemies with the entire staff?"
"I don't consider them as enemies, Pakkun. They're just too...sensitive." The ninja rolled his eye and drew a sheaf of blank parchment paper in front of him. He dipped the quill into an inkwell and answered, "If I was subtle, they probably wouldn't have gotten the message anyway." His dog snorted with agreement before Kakashi commented, "Besides, everyone needs to learn a bit of humility once in awhile."
"Humility, huh?" Pakkun shook his fur out, smirking all the while. "Kind of like what they're forcing you to suffer in."
"You mean their juvenile cold-shoulder act?" Kakashi started to write the message to his Hokage without missing a beat. "Not exactly impressive...Though I have to admit, it is getting annoying."
Pakkun grumbled as he left the cozy bed and hopped onto the desk. "So how are you going to make-?"
Kakashi paused and stared pointedly at the pug, daring him to finish the sentence.
"...Right." The nin-dog sighed. "No friends - but how about getting back into their good books? I'm pretty sure it said somewhere in that mission scroll..."
"It'll work out in the end. I'm merely here to help the magical brats. Having the professors' compliances would've made my job easier but it's not exactly necessary."
He sniffed. "You're confident about all this?" 'This' implied 'awkward social situations'.
Kakashi didn't bother with a response; instead, he immersed the quill tip into the black ink and continued to write.
"Yeah yeah I get it." Pakkun wiggled his nose, catching a whiff of Kakashi's general displeasure. "You know I wouldn't be frying you with twenty-twenty questions if there was food around here. Where's the chicken? Or better yet, broiled pork with beef jerky biscuits sounds good right about now."
Kakashi poked the pug against his stomach with the end of the quill. "Thinking about food so early? Aren't you afraid of getting that pooch belly?"
The dog reciprocated with a grumble, remarking sarcastically, "It's called breakfast, boss...I know that word isn't in your vocabulary but it's in mine."
"Touchy."
"Yeah, yeah, can we go yet? I can feel my stomach lining turning inside out and outside in and..."
Kakashi placed the quill down and took the time to rub the sensitive spot behind Pakkun's ear much to his victim's distracted pleasure-displeasure.
"Well?"
"You...brat-" Pakkun grumbled and laid his head on top of his paws. "Quit...that-and get back to writing the-"
-And then his tail betrayed him when it thumped once – and then twice and thrice – against the wooden desk. The pug snuffed warningly, "Not a word..."
The ninja raised his visible right eyebrow, almost taunting. "Wouldn't dare. Not for the world."
His nin-dog growled irritably. On the other side, his tail twitched.
Kakashi hummed and rubbed the back of the tiny skull. "Now isn't that just cute? A puddle of dog under my hand."
A few moments later, Pakkun's tongue lolled – that was, until he remembered himself and groused irritably, "Quit it-!"
"Alright alright..." And true to his word, his hand left Pakkun's fur – only, of course, after ruffling his head, which resulted in several complaints and a bite to the wrist.
"That hurts, you know."
"Well cry me a river."
Kakashi snorted and gave up teasing his pug. Instead, he turned his attention back to his short letter and gave it a careful once over.
For his lazy demeanour, he could certainly be contradictory with his actions. As most people believed him to have a messy, illegible scrawl, Kakashi surprisingly wrote with meticulous, concise writing, honed by the constant reminder from his father during his infantile pre-genin days.
"Now Kakashi..."
The tiny boy kneeling on top of the books stacked onto a chair swivelled his head to glance at the man beside him. "Yes father?"
Sakumo Hatake took the writing utensil from his five-year-old son and started, "The final report is a very crucial element in the completion of any shinobi mission. A mission should never be half-heartedly finished so the report must be detailed but succinct with legible writing..."
"...Su-su-sint?" The child frowned gently as he mulled through the word.
"Succinct. Clear. To the point." Konoha's White Fang suppressed the fond grin. "Do you understand, Kakashi?"
He chewed his lip and nodded, "Yes. To the point with neat handwriting."
"That's right. That's how you write mission reports...Not like what Uncle Jiraiya mentioned, that dratted-"
The rest of the scandalous commentary about Jiraiya was carefully tuned out as he examined his father's orderly, defined writing...
Even now he took those words to heart as he wrote a coded signature onto the sleeve of the letter before sealing it. Kakashi sighed and leaned back into his seat, balancing his weight onto the two hind legs of the chair. Pakkun stared at him expectantly and the (currently) dark-haired shinobi at last complied, "Let's go then and get that breakfast you wanted."
The nin-dog perked up, shaking his fur out, and drawled, "Finally..."
"Don't push your luck."
"Got it boss...But as long as you toss in some extra ox tongues and bacon..."
"No, Pakkun." He sighed, eye rolling heavenwards as he considered the rest of his eclectic dog pack. "I don't want to hear you complain about indigestion later..."
Kakashi tugged at his downy-white scarf, watching as the owls in the Owlery fly overhead. At his heels, the nin-dog growled lowly.
"What-" whined Pakkun in disgust, waving his paw with an aggravated motion, "-are we doing, wading in pigeon guano? I thought we had a deal here. Breakfast."
"We mail the letter first." Kakashi peered into the middle of the rafters, almost immediately spotting the earthen brown hawk sitting imperiously at her perch. Native to Konoha, the fierce bird had a red string tied around her neck with the Konoha leaf symbol etched into the metal tag. The normal inhabitants of the aviary gave the golden-eyed bird a wide berth, fluffing their feathers in a massive crowd on wooden support beams closer to the stone walls.
He could feel the tendrils of chakra from the tag as he whistled lowly. The hawk, Awaji, fluttered ghostly silent towards them and landed on his arm, claws curling around the cloth of his cloak. She gazed at him expectantly, intelligently.
Pakkun stared at the bird and asked, "So how is she going back to Konoha? You aren't seriously considering in sending her across several seas...Right?"
"The client mentioned a specialized avian portkey." Kakashi stroked the crest of dappled white feathers before expertly securing the letter on her talons. "In long cross continental distances, a magical key is attached to the bird. Once the bird leaves the border of the country, the portkey will activate and send the bird to the outskirts of the destination."
Pakkun spat out a drifting feather from his mouth and grumbled, "Sounds fast."
"Ah. As long as Awaji isn't sent into a lake after the portkey activates, I'm sure the letter will get to Tsunade-sama in record time."
The pug chortled at his heels before nosing his ankle impatiently. "Hurry up then. I can feel bird mites crawling in my fur."
"Bird mites?"
"You know. Tiny bugs with wings that suck out your blood." Pakkun itched the back of his ear with his hind leg self-consciously.
"It's a psychological effect." After a beat, he added suspiciously, "I know you're hungry but the excuses to get us out of here quicker..."
"Excuses?! I may be hungry but that has nothing to do with the bird mites. They're real. You want me to bite you so you can experience what I'm feelin' here?"
"Ah...Calm down. Calm down..." Awaji's shrill, short cry punctuated Kakashi's placating words.
The pug glared at the bird perched on his master before grumbling lowly, "...As if I'd like to wander 'round here like a free buffet table on legs...Stupid bird."
Awaji twitched her wings and tilted her head. The pug rolled his eyes and trotted towards the door of the aviary.
With a doubtful glance back at his nin-dog, Kakashi finally led the hawk to an open window. Awaji tossed her head once more, in good bye this time, before unveiling strong, expansive wings. Soaring out into fresh air, the hawk wheeled once, twice, and then screeched proudly, eagerly.
The parchment letter was hidden in the belly of white feathers as he watched her off.
Poppy Pomfrey liked to think of herself as a patient, nurturing Mother figure for Hogwarts. By the book practice was how she healed those under her care; secretly, intricate spells and delicate potions conjugated into this highly skilled art thrilled her to the bones. A certain kind of satisfaction – "I stopped the pain. The wound healed over. I saved them from death." – just couldn't be obtained in other careers.
...Unless of course she forfeited her normal life to be an Auror or Unspeakable, which she had no intention of ever doing...
In cuisine, she liked her tea sweet with a dollop of pixie sugar and goat's cream. Her rooms were always self-tidied without the aid of House elves and all papers were filed in alphabetical order – sometimes in year when subcategories overlapped. She had a healthy dislike for muggle medical technology and a liking for rowdy debates held during the MUTTs, Mediwizards United Towards a Tomorrow, a medical procedure discussion forum.
She also enjoyed a few PIGs too but abhorred COWs – that is, 'Plays by Igor Gorgorfkof' and 'Conventions of Owl Wrights' respectively.
Like any good medic, she was also quite conscious about hygiene so it came to no surprise when she stopped in midstride, a hand inching over her open mouth in disgust.
The scene at the Great Hall made her stomach tumble.
An ugly wrinkled dog was sitting on her table space, chewing on a raw slab of steak with vigour. Even from afar, she could see the rivulets of blood seeping into the grains of the wood, and she fumed when she noticed that Hatake was watching the dog with blatant amusement.
She marched up towards the pair who was committing the atrocious hygiene crime and greeted icily, "Hello Hatake."
"Good morning Madam Pomfrey." The Mediator picked up his fork and poked at his waffle. "You are quite early today."
Indeed, no one else was at the Great Hall yet so there was no one present to watch their verbal exchange.
She muttered bitterly. The dog paused in mid-bite as if eying her suspiciously. Pomfrey finally spoke up again. "Pet animals are not allowed on the tables of the Great Hall."
The pug seemed to bristle at her tone. Hatake stroked his fur before tugging at his collar warningly. "He's not my pet, per se, and technically, humans – Homo sapiens – are animals too."
"That is taking my words far out of context, Hatake."
"Not really. And if we are technically considered as animals...Well, shouldn't we also kick ourselves out of the Great Hall then?" She fumed and Hatake continued blithely, "I only speak the truth."
The dog growled lowly in the garbled, native language that she couldn't understand but was spoken by Hatake. ("Just sit down lady and eat your breakfast. It's too early for trouble.")
Her eyes widened. "It...It..."
Hatake admonished the pug half-heartedly. ("Manners, Pakkun.")
Pakkun's rumble converted mid-way into a whine. ("Not my problem boss.")
She found her voice and interrupted, "It can talk."
The dog snorted irritably, ("What's she so shocked about? Tell her to quit staring at me.")
Colouring significantly as the dog addressed her angrily, she opened her mouth to speak again, but Hatake beat her to it.
("Pakkun...") he warned. The dog grumbled and started to chew on his steak again, falling silent.
"Hatake. He is a dog, right?" She stared at Pakkun quizzically. "He's not an illegal, unregistered animagus...?"
He tested the word and frowned. "Ani-magus?"
"A person that can morph into an animal using magic."
"No...Pakkun isn't an animagus." The man waved his fork. "Why are you so amazed? You have creatures that are half human and half equine. There are fish-people, dragons, goblins, giant spiders, man-eating plants, man-eating plants that spit acid...And you're surprised by a talking dog?"
Pomfrey was unconvinced as she shuffled to a seat farther away from 'Pakkun' and Hatake. "Usually, dogs, magical or not, do not have the capabilities to learn the human language."
He shrugged. "He's smart."
The pug groused as he watched her, ("She's ruining my breakfast time with that staring. I should've bitten her nose off.")
("I'm sure you can smell it Pakkun. She's a medic. You don't mess with medics.")
("Fine. Only when you're not watching then.")
Hatake snorted in amusement and stabbed at his waffles again. Pomfrey had a feeling that they were talking about her but she did not voice her concerns, instead opting to focus on her breakfast.
She couldn't place a finger on it, but Pakkun felt strange in a magical sense...
"Maybe Filius or Minerva can understand this better..."
Madam Pince glowered as she watched him amble into her territory alone. There was no sign of that sorry-for-an-excuse piece of 'literature' on his person but she wasn't about to take those chances with such a wily one...
"Hello, Mr. Hatake."
The man seemed resigned as he stared at her, bored, with one eye. "Madam Pince. I don't have it with me."
His attitude surely needed adjusting. "Might I remind you that-"
"-That 'you don't need the taint of such books in the Hogwarts school library' and 'that it's absolutely sacrilegious and vulgar when such poppycock is printed on paper'. Am I right?"
Pince didn't appreciate his unconcerned tone of voice but could not fault him on his memorization. "Yes, that's right. I hope you will continue to keep those words at heart."
He smiled this time – or at least she thought he did. "Ah. Certainly."
She felt the bite of his derision and glared at him heatedly. No one dared take Irma Pince lightly at Hogwarts when it concerned written word; even the poltergeist, Peeves, knew when he was not welcomed in the library.
Unfazed, the Hatake made his way to the public section of the library, her eyes tracking his every movement. Once he disappeared behind the corner, she gazed at the special tracking monitor underneath her desk. She could distinctly make out a head of black hair milling within the 'English Language' section.
What she didn't see was the quiet snickering as Hatake hid a distinctly orange book behind two thick tomes of English Grammar and Pronunciation texts.
"If only Professor Dumbledore didn't have to give him permission...I would gladly throw him out...He didn't destroy your favourite quill, now did he, Headmaster?" Dissatisfied with not having the upper hand, Pince began to viciously shelve her books. She muttered under her breath, "Coming here everyday...Studying English...What rubbish...For all we know...He's absolutely fluent."
Behind her, the wooden pedestal cradled her broken quill memorabilia in remembrance...
...She will have her revenge, one way or another.
Taking time to enjoy his afternoon tea, Dumbledore was not expecting guests in his office at half past twelve when the meeting was scheduled for five past one.
A knock against the door. "Headmaster."
He set his tea down. "Come in."
The doors swept open revealing Severus Snape and Kingsley Shacklebolt at the stairwell. The latter was chuckling gaily before sobering at the face of his superior.
"Severus. Kingsley." Dumbledore glanced at the silver clock hung across the room and remarked candidly, "I believe it's a bit early for the meeting."
"Mmm...Sorry Professor." The Auror quirked a smile when he spotted the tea biscuits on a warmed tray. "I hope we aren't intruding but my shift was rescheduled at the Ministry today so I had to come early..."
"That's fine. Please, take a seat." Dumbledore pushed away his china, pausing as his guests got comfortable.
Getting straight to the point, Snape sniffed, "We crossed paths with Hatake while we were on our way to your office."
Dumbledore fiddled with a silver instrument on his desk. "Excellent. And what are your impressions, Kingsley?"
"Quite strange. He has a talking dog." Kingsley suppressed the grin upon the mention, glancing back at Snape's gloomy disposition.
"Oh yes. I've had a chance conversation with Pakkun. Indeed, he's quite the charming fellow."
The coloured wizard murmured, "Yes, charming. His master however..."
"Irksome."
Shacklebolt calmly amended Snape's outburst. "More like analytical and two-faced...Excuse the irony."
The Headmaster hummed. "No, yes I agree...to an extent."
"Hm. But even under my scrutiny, he was incredibly guarded and controlled." Kingsley seemed to nod decisively. "I can see why the Eastern magical community would choose him as their diplomat."
Snape interrupted, questioning the elderly wizard, "Why not Occlumency?"
Blue eyes gazed at Severus wearily and seriously. "I have warned you once at the beginning and I do so again. Do not attempt to read his mind, Severus. It is much too dangerous."
"Dangerous how?" Kingsley sat up straighter in his seat, attentively observing his superior with a shrewd gaze.
"As you are aware, he is of Eastern wizardry descent."
"Yes, but he is a squib," pointed out Snape.
"Not quite, rather in English, there is no perfect classification for his abilities." Dumbledore threaded his fingers together. "There are ancient arts within the Asian communities that are handed down from generation to generation. I have gathered from sources that this includes a rather horrific way in protecting ones' mind from tampering – by traumatizing the intruder permanently."
Neither Shacklebolt, who was well-versed in body language, nor Snape, who was superb with Occlumency, could discern Dumbledore's dishonesty in his explanation.
"Indeed, coupled with the fact that Mr. Hatake is considered a prodigy in his country, there is room for creative changes and improvements on these skills."
Snape knew a lot about prodigies and geniuses, working as a pawn for the two sides being led by their own prospective intellectual. He frowned disapprovingly, knowing that Dumbledore understood his reservations. "Hrm. Prodigy."
"That certainly explains the self-confidence," remarked Kingsley.
Dumbledore chuckled briefly and clarified, "But aside, our primary goal isn't about delving into the mind of Mr. Hatake. I only wished for an account of unbiased first impression."
"What for?"
"And that is the reason for our meeting." Dumbledore addressed Snape, "Thank you Severus but I have a private matter to discuss with Kingsley."
"I understand." The Potions Master left the room silently, black cloak disappearing behind the closing door.
Shacklebolt laced his fingers together complacently. "I've read your message carefully, Dumbledore."
"And what do you think of this situation?"
His deep voice echoed in the quiet room. "I understand your concerns that the Ministry might try and rush a formation of a stable relationship with the Asian wizards now that a representative is here at Hogwarts. That may be quite risky considering the nature of our guest."
"Yes, those are my thoughts as well..." Dumbledore was contemplative for a moment before he spoke, "...Which is why I ask that you to do something additional for me. Consider it a favour."
"What is it Professor?"
Dumbledore smiled softly, "He will be going. I will send him there with my trusted staff. It will not do to keep him grounded in Hogwarts without exploring the rest of the United Kingdom."
"I see..." Shacklebolt nodded slowly, considering.
The Headmaster continued, "So please, keep an eye on the people around him during the pre and post match."
"But if he is as smart as you claim then..." Kingsley murmured, "An analytical mind for infinite details will notice."
"He will understand. The Ministry however..." Dumbledore gazed at Shacklebolt silently and the Auror understood.
Another secret for the greater good of the Ministry.
When Shacklebolt departed from Hogwarts, the minor details were arranged accordingly. At dusk, Dumbledore joined the rest of his staff at dinnertime with an interesting announcement.
Kakashi was invited to the Quidditch World Cup by the Ministry of Magic.
TBC
A/N: Wow. An actual plot! I surprise myself sometimes XD
Also, Pakkun and Kakashi = love.
~Phoenyxx