Take Six: Dessert on a Platter (with Whip Cream!)
(Two hours prior to the feast...)
Gazing at the circle of ninken, Pakkun started, "Here's the plan-"
Shiba whined impatiently, slicking the crest upon his head with a paw, "No, no, no, there's gonna be no plans. He's only gonna bring one of us anyway."
"Hey! It's the first time he's going to see the kids! All the teachers are gathered too! I want to go to the feast!" Guruko's tail thumped with each exclamation point, whiskers twitching in anticipation. "I want to go! I want to go!"
"No. You excite too easily," drawled Bisuke. "I should be the one to go."
"Hehehe. But you're boring so I should go 'cause I'll give the best colour commentary," remarked Urushi as he puffed up his white fur proudly.
"Yeah, but I'm hungry. I want to go for the food," muttered Uhei.
"We're all hungry," retorted Akino, light-sensitive eyes behind black glasses.
Bull, the giant black bulldog, was silent. He eyed his peers tiredly before leaning closer towards the fireplace and rested his head between his paws.
Pakkun muttered, "Fine, since we all want to go and you bunch don't want to listen to my master plan, let's have a deciding factor."
Guruko then exclaimed, "A contest! Let's have a contest!"
"What kinda contest?" snorted Shiba. "Better be a good kinda contest!"
"A silent contest," suggested Pakkun, grin turning feral. "Whoever can shut up for the longest period of time wins."
"Shut up? Yea, yea, I can shut up! That's easy – you know, shutting up!" shouted Guruko eagerly.
Bisuke gazed at Guruko with impatience, and muttered, "We all know who's going to drop out of the contest first, don't we?"
The whiskered dog squinted at Bisuke and asked, "Who? Who's dropping out on what?!"
"Nevermind him Guruko," consoled Uhei.
Akino piped up, "Let's get the contest started already."
"Yeah." Pakkun counted, "Three...Two...One!"
A blanket of peace settled around the eight dogs...
Wiping away the condensation from the mirror, Kakashi was listening in on his nindogs' conversation.
He was not surprised when the silence was broken by loud-
-singing.
"-a mission, a mission, bang-bang a mission! Silent like on a mission, bang-bang, a mission!" chanted Guruko. To each 'mission' his tail thwacked against the floor in a steady tempo.
Guruko's tongue lolled as he noticed his companions' smug expressions. "What?"
It was a domino effect. Because of Guruko's cluelessness, Urushi snickered uncontrollably, legs kicking out. He managed to boot Uhei who yelped out loudly.
"Hey!" Uhei puffed up. "I call foul."
Urushi giggled through a half-hearted apology. "S-S-Sorry!" He rolled into Akino.
Akino's glasses glinted. "Urushi..."
Noticing the danger, Bisuke leapt out of the way just as Akino and Uhei both pounced on top of Urushi. Bisuke, perched on the bed, called out, "Hey now. Hey stop that."
"Oh! Oh! Are we play-fighting?" Guruko circled the nipping, tumbling dog pile. "I want in!"
Shiba attempted to shy away but his leg got caught in the tussle. Someone bit down on said appendage. "Oi! Oi, oi! Leggo! Ya got the wrong dog."
"Stop." Voice of reason, Bisuke drawled, "Pakkun...Do something."
Pakkun barred his teeth in a self-satisfied smile but otherwise didn't say a word.
"Tch. Figures," growled Shiba as he kicked outwards. "Oi! OI! Cut it out you four!"
Bisuke grumbled, "Pakkun's winning."
"What?!" Urushi hiccupped. "Little pug's winning?"
Uhei's ruffled head came up from under the dog pile. "Get off. You lot are heavy."
"Who's left?" asked Akino as he extricated himself.
"Pakkun and Bull," said Bisuke.
Shiba chortled, "Ha ha ha! Bull's gonna win!"
Pakkun twitched, his ire evident on his face but instead of acting on his anger, he sat in front of Bull.
They had a stare down.
"Ooo, tension!" cooed Guruko.
"Behave." Urushi tugged Guruko away. "I wanna watch."
"That was my front row seat! Mine! Mine!" whined Guruko.
"Urushi..." sighed Uhei.
"Yea, yea, yea. I get it. Puppy's gonna cry." Urushi nipped at Guruko's ear fondly.
Guruko shook his head, "I'm not a puppy! No way!"
Meanwhile for Pakkun the scope of his world narrowed down to defeating Bull. He glared at the larger dog, determined to win. "Submit. Submit. Submit."
His resolve was so incredibly flagrant that Bull was starting to get nervous.
The six other dogs watched with baited breath. Pakkun smirked and Bull was the first to break.
It started with a low rumble at the back of his throat, the sound like impending stones cascading down a mountain peak. The noise built until Bull released his thunderous bark, causing Pakkun to tumble backwards.
This drew Kakashi's attention because Bull hardly ever snarled, let alone one so plaintive. He hadn't heard that tremor since Bull was a pup.
(It was almost a, "Kakashi! Pakkun's picking on me.")
Ruffling his wet hair, Kakashi, their de facto leader, stuck his head out through the bathroom door. The dogs immediately noticed him and sweated. Bull barked again. Pakkun hissed a low "traitor".
Pondering over their antics, Kakashi rolled both eyes when he realized. The shinobi remarked, deadpanned, "No. I'm not taking any one of you to the feast."
Damn.
And when the door to the bathroom sidled close, Guruko whimpered, "Now what?"
"Dunno," muttered Urushi.
Akino and Uhei stared at Pakkun, both knowing well that the pug still had an ace up his sleeves.
Pakkun did not disappoint. He coughed self-importantly, a smirk still visible.
"So here's the plan..."
Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, a pearl whisper against the intricately detailed tapestries, glided through the air. Hovering with him was the moody ghost of Helena Ravenclaw.
He nervously fixed the frilled collar around his almost-severed neck and asked his companion, "I say my dear lady we're not late for the feast, are we?"
"...No." The Grey Lady, beauty forever preserved as an opalescent wisp, combed back her flowing locks as they neared the entrance to the Great Hall. "But the outsider is present."
And as she brushed a willowy hand at the imposing wooden door, there was the slightest prickling that numbed the pads of her fingers. She pursed her lips tighter until it resembled a thin, white line.
(Charged chakra of opposing forces...Memories...Imprints...Magic...)
When her escort neared the barrier, faint pinpoint sparks danced down his spine, causing him to giggle. Nearly Headless Nick then coughed in embarrassment and frowned faintly, "Aye – Unthinkable. To be a Has-Been and still feel unwanted discomfort!"
The Grey Lady merely sighed, gloomy. "Unfortunate."
Nick tipped his head, flourishing an arm in a gesture of extravagance. "Shall we then?"
Glancing up and over the yellowing pages of his copy of 'A Guide to Medieval Sorcery', Kakashi observed the ghosts floating around the room. He could feel the hairs along his nape prickle uncomfortably but regardless, he continued to read – or at least, he pretended to peruse the dubious material in his hands.
(He knew he should've picked out that book about animagus transformation...)
Below the professors' dais, the students were flooding in and taking the seats at their respective tables. He was aware that pubescent children were typically loud (Rookie Nine and Team Gai came to mind) but that still didn't prepare him against the deafening shouts and clamour. Their chatter was, to say the least, distracting.
(After all, the Great Hall was established to have impeccable acoustics.)
The 'on-duty' disguised shinobi casually flipped a page of his text and did his best to filter away the laughter and prattle. And as he sat there in his seat, he realized that he's never looked forward to the start of dinner this much before.
It'd certainly be nice if the children (brats) had food to preoccupy their yaps with.
Streamers of red trimmed with gold decorated the Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors was the House that personified valour and gallantry as well as including the extreme spectrum of excessively rash behaviour and better-than-thou tendencies.
Transfiguration Professor Minerva McGonagall was the Head of House for the Gryffindors who also doubly acted as the Deputy Headmistress. A stern woman with a sharp mind but soft heart, she took great pains to ensure that the best interests of the students were at the forefront of the school's ideology.
Unsurprisingly, it was one of her better students who took notice to the change of staff first. Upon sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger glanced at the teachers and pointed out, "Look. A new face."
"Face? What face?" Ron Weasley's brow furrowed. "Bloody hell! Is that our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?"
The group of Gryffindor students who heard him looked up. They observed the man with the dishevelled midnight-dark hair and made note of the amber-coloured scarf that covered half his facial features.
...Mysterious. Quite mysterious.
Professor Vector muttered around her goblet, "It appears the Gryffindors have noticed."
"Wouldn't have expected any less..." replied Sinistra as she scrutinized the gaggle of murmuring students.
Kakashi said nothing as he turned another page of the book at hand.
"He looks almost..." Ginny Weasley paused as she fished for words. "...Normal."
"Normal?" Lavender Brown interjected. "Dressed like that I wouldn't put him as normal."
"He's not normal wearing a woolly scarf like that. Last time I checked, you don't wear those in early September," huffed Parvati Patil.
"Well...Normal as in...ordinary," said Ginny as she tried to explain her thoughts.
"I think you mean muggle-like, dear Ginny." Fred Weasley nodded, "Can't argue that he isn't muggle-like."
His twin, George Weasley, agreed wholeheartedly, "Oh yes, the bloke's very muggle-like. Maybe the scarf is a part of muggle fashion."
And it seemed the gaping and whispering finally warranted the man's attention. Their table hushed when the new professor glanced up from his book to stare at them with a haunting, single eye. When he finally looked away again, Harry Potter leaned in closer and asked, "You can tell that he's a muggle? How are you so sure?"
The twins exchanged a look and answered in unison, "Trust us. He has to be a muggle."
Fred continued on that line of thought and said, "He has this air about him."
However Hermione immediately corrected them matter-of-factly. "But muggles can't see nor enter Hogwarts because of the Muggle-Repelling Charms."
There was another short pause held by the ones sitting at Hogwarts' Gryffindor table.
It was George who cleared his throat and suggested, "Maybe a squib then."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "But then how will he teach DADA if he's a squib?"
"Toe-may-to, toe-mah-to. How did Lockhart manage to teach DADA?" asked George.
"He didn't," answered Lee Jordan.
"Exactly!" chorused the twins gleefully.
"Great. Another subpar professor," muttered Dean Thomas.
Seamus Finnigan snorted and stated sagely, "At least the girls aren't swooning after him."
Minutes passed and the doors to the Great Hall opened with a bang, calling for immediate attention.
Tilting his head indolently, Kakashi watched as a troop of fidgeting kids filed in. The procession of tiny ankle biters – First Years, as whispered by Sinistra – was led by Professor McGonagall. Most were soaked through by rainwater but there was one kid in particular who was drowning in Hagrid's signature fur pelt.
He wrinkled his nose delicately. The boy permeated the musk of wet, swampy mammal.
(Later on – garnered from the strident boasts echoing in the hallways – he would learn that the boy, Dennis Creevey, had been tossed into the turbulent Great Lake during the ritual crossing and was 'saved' by the giant squid.
Been there. Done that.)
At an unseen signal, the organized line of children halted at the center of the Great Hall, dividing the room in two; their eyes were wide and set against nervous, pinched faces as they took in the magical sights. As if aware that Kakashi didn't understand what was happening, Vector provided a curt explanation – "Sorting." – that told him nothing and supposedly everything he needed to know.
He watched as McGonagall stood guardedly near a rickety old stool and held onto a large scroll primly. And to his fascination (delight), as the children settled down, the shabby pointed hat sitting on the stool broke into song and sang a ditty.
(Against his better judgement, he inconspicuously cracked open his Sharingan eye to gain another perspective of the extraordinary hat. However after one glimpse, he immediately snapped the eyelid shut over the bloodline limit, his borrowed eye sore and throbbing.
The hat was eerily void of chakra; the object was but a mere blank shimmering space when the pinwheel eye slid over it...What...?)
After the lengthy ode to Hogwarts and polite applause from the audience, the 'sorting' began. Kakashi observed quietly as McGonagall called forth the First Years one by one and had the hat placed on top of their heads. In a heartbeat – or sometimes after several – the hat would announce which house the child would be placed in with no one questioning its decision.
To say the least, Kakashi was somewhat sceptical and perplexed as he stared at the frayed hat. How could the wizards trust an inanimate – albeit talking – object with the decision that determines where the children would be stationed for the next seven years?
Biting his tongue to refrain from remarking inappropriately ("I hope you don't have a wet blanket arranging Ministry events.") and drawing pointless attention, Kakashi continued to read his book. He tuned out most of the inconsequential murmurs and waited...
...A dozen or more minutes later, an astonishingly serene atmosphere settled into the folds of the Great Hall. Noticing the change in mood, Kakashi looked up just in time to witness Dumbledore standing up from his seat, arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture.
Kakashi leaned back into his seat. "Hm...So the staff and students are capable of respectfully holding their tongues. Are they waiting for Dumbledore's speech...?"
But the Headmaster disappointed his hired foreigner when he only said two words and not a grandiose speech. This effectively limited the length of peace and quiet that his client had achieved.
"Tuck in!"
Magically, piping-hot food filled the plates from one side of the hall to the other. A unison clinking of silverware seemed to be the cue for the Great Hall to erupt into a flurry of activity and noise. He huffed, the small sound drowned out by the obscenely loud students. Casting a stray eye at his gleaming utensils, Kakashi resolutely ignored the feasting witches and wizards around him and turned the page of his book, 'absolutely engrossed'.
On the first chew of her potatoes, Professor Vector noticed his stasis and asked calmly, "Mr. Hatake, joining us at the table and not eating?"
A long pause followed. After the Arithmancy teacher was several mouthfuls into her meal, Kakashi responded candidly, "Oh no, I'm full. I can't take another bite."
Sinistra gazed at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "But we just started dinner."
Kakashi looked up briefly and his eye crinkled into his signature parody of a smile. "I ate before dinner started."
And that, apparently, was that when Kakashi focused on the text again. Unperturbed by his clear dismissal, his gathered colleagues knew better than to badger him for an extended period of time when confronted by that attitude. Besides, they were accustomed to the fact that their Mediator never ate in front of them.
(Then again, among the number of professors, there were a few who could care less if the shinobi decided to starve himself for whatever insane, illogical, 'Kakashi Hatake' reason.)
The House of Hufflepuff was known for their outstanding social skills, friendliness, and loyalty – as well as their less savoury traits like gossip-mongering, overbearing helper tendencies, and idealistic naivety.
Their Head of House, Herbology Professor Pomona Sprout, was a Hufflepuff alumnus. She took great pride in maintaining (preening and pruning and weeding) a standard into the House's metaphorical grounds of respect – hoping that, under her care, her students would flourish into mature, outstanding wizards and witches that will make a difference in society.
As like the other three tables in the Great Hall, the Hufflepuff dining surface was decorated with their house colours – yellow and black in this case. Clustered together along the table, the students carried numerous conversations amongst themselves but one of the main, recurring subjects tonight involved the unknown man sitting with the professors. They – as in the many half-blooded and pure blooded wizards – unknowingly agreed with the Weasley twins' initial assessment that their stranger was quite 'muggle-like'; however, they've also determined that the new arrival suffered a case of body-shyness.
To them, it was just so painfully obvious that the man was a social-defunct.
(Basically, his 'social ineptitude' was 'showing'.)
And so, one such insightful realization blossomed during a conversation that included a clique of Hufflepuff Fourth Years and one senior...
"-not eating."
Ears prickled at the comment.
"A diet on the first day back? Which sissy-pants' not eating?" questioned Zacharias Smith in jest.
Susan Bones craned her head to question her older housemate. "Sorry for eavesdropping but was that you Cedric? I thought you liked roasted chicken with pumpkin..."
The blond senior grinned cheerfully and nodded, "Yea I do like that dish, but we're talking about the new prof."
"Oh." The younger female Hufflepuff peeked at the stranger seated with the other teachers and raised a sardonic eyebrow. "You're right. He isn't eating."
Cedric informed her as well as the rest of the listening students nearby, "We just heard him tell Professor Sinistra that he ate already."
Megan Jones piped up, "Yea, but I'm thinking that there's more to it, right?"
"Probably," agreed Susan.
"Like the fact that he's hiding half his face underneath that kitschy scarf." Hannah Abbot swallowed her mouthful of turkey and commented curiously, "Maybe he's horrifically disfigured and doesn't want to remove his only cover."
"Hard to say." Justin Finch-Fletchley waved the fork in his hand around. "You see any scars?"
"The one slashed across his left eye." Ernie Macmillan chortled before continuing good-naturedly, "A bit hard to miss, see."
Zacharias questioned morbidly, "Do you think that there's anything left under that eyelid? Maybe it's all blood, crust, and red muscle..."
Wayne Hopkins grinned and joined in. "I don't know about that...Maybe he metalized the walls."
"Can you imagine the smell of molten metal on flesh?" Zacharias shuddered lightly, smirking all the while. "No pain, no gain. Maybe a golden eye socket. That's pretty – What's the muggle terminology?"
"Fly. Pimp," snickered Wayne.
"And if there's a thief, they'd have to peel the gold outta his eye-"
Hannah's expression soured as she muttered around her spoon, "Please, you two, I'm eating."
"Yeah Zach, leave that alone until after the meal." Ernie stated in admonishment, "You don't want to cause people with sensitive stomachs to hurl their dinner."
Hannah sniffed, "So back to the conversation at hand..."
"I don't know about disfigurement," contributed Cedric. "If he was that conscious about his appearance, he would have also hid the vertical scar on his eye."
Susan tapped a finger against her chin and said, "...Maybe he's just shy."
"Shy?" Megan repeated.
Getting into the idea, Hannah added, "Like he can't stand it when people stare at his nose and mouth. You know, self-consciousness."
"Or maybe-" Justin paused, ears turning bright red in example, "-he blushes real easy."
Blushing like a crushing schoolgirl.
Snickering, Susan continued empathically, "That would be kinda embarrassing, don't you think?"
The rest of the Hufflepuffs put that into serious consideration (the superimposed image of a beet red face behind a tomato red scarf popped into several minds).
They busted into throaty guffaws.
The peals of laughter caught instantaneous attention and the other occupants of the Great Hall wondered what had set off the Hufflepuff table.
Kakashi, conversely, ignored the ruckus and continued to read.
It was Salazar Slytherin who founded the House of Slytherin, basing it upon the principles of ambition and cunning – even extending into obsessive behaviour and in extreme cases, megalomania.
(For megalomania, see one Tom Marvolo Riddle; pseudonym: Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must Not-Be-Named, etc.)
The Head of House, Potions Master Severus Snape, was by all means a 'simple' man who led an unfortunate double life – two personae in one body so merged together until the difference was indistinguishable. Trust instilled by Dumbledore allowed him to be the figure that watched over the Slytherin students, and secretly, ensure victory for the side opposing You-Know-Who.
At the Slytherin table sat mostly pure-blooded wizards and witches. Their general lull and apathy broke mid-feast.
Millicent Bulstrode started the conversation. "That bloke must be an idiot."
"Which one are you talking about? There are a lot of idiots here, Milli." Daphne Greengrass laughed snidely, "Just look at the Gryffindors – a picnic table filled with red-headed dimwits."
The female Slytherin's smirk widened before she shook her head, reiterating, "I meant the one Professor Snape is glowering at."
"The scrawny new teacher?" Tracey Davis wiped her mouth primly before saying, "He probably stole the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts from under the Professor's nose."
"Thwarted again," tacked on Millicent and Daphne, giggling. Snape's misfortune was slowly becoming a running gag amongst the students – Slytherin included but only in good jest (because Snape is still a part of Slytherin, through and through).
Pansy Parkinson rolled her eyes. "Well the new professor looks exotic," she muttered, nose wrinkled.
A male Slytherin student a few seats down hollered, "Like an exotic fruit!"
The surrounding Slytherin students sniggered gaily. While thoughtlessness was usually a biased trait given to the Slytherins, a few Ravenclaws from the next table over were still slightly appalled by their rudeness.
There was no doubt about whom those words were aimed at and exotic fruit brought forward a rather strange plethora of images to mind. Despite her iron control, Vector's lips twitched upwards (because she doubted the Slytherin who made that comment knew what that word meant) then downwards (because it was still quite offensive if not used in endearment). Next to her Snape disguised his semi-amusement with a well-placed cough followed by a glare towards his students in reprimand.
It was (ever-so-thoughtful) Sinistra who finally took pity and decided to 'comfort' Hatake but before she could put forth a well-meaning word, she was rudely waved off.
Kakashi smiled sardonically. "Back home, I've garnered many names -"
Like for instance son of Konoha's White Fang, the brat, ANBU Dog ('graduated' to Hound at Captaincy), Sharingan Kakashi, the Copy Ninja, the annoying Leaf ninja, pervert, 'baka-sensei', son of a b– his thoughts derailed.
He chuckled nervously, "-But never exotic fruit before. In fact, I'm feeling quite flattered."
Vector smirked at how he overlooked the students' lack of respect. In contrast, Sinistra shook her head, figuring that they should've expected that kind of response from him.
At least it appeared he hadn't a clue what fruit meant in colloquial language.
(Back to the Slytherin table...)
Draco Malfoy considered the dorky man sitting at the staff table and muttered to Theodore Nott, "My father told me that he's an important person to the Ministry of Magic."
Passive in manner, Nott took up a spoon and ladled the rich broth into his bowl. Afterwards, he responded with a laid back, "Did he?"
"Apparently he's a diplomat from the East and was at the Quidditch World Cup by invite from the Ministry." Malfoy growled thoughtfully in a low whisper, "He made a scene when he argued with a Ministry Official."
Perceptive, Nott realized that Malfoy most likely had orders from his father to watch out for that man. The Slytherin swallowed the food in his mouth and said, "You're concerned."
"Don't use such weak words, Nott," snapped Malfoy.
Nott simply shrugged and continued to eat; he was only previously listening to humour Malfoy. If the issue doesn't concern him (yet), he wasn't going to care. Besides, he would figure out his stance on the matter when Dumbledore announces the man's purpose...
Blaise Zabini interrupted their private conversation (and Nott's musings) with a loud, "What a joke. He looks like he's about to fall asleep."
The House of Ravenclaw was established by Rowena Ravenclaw, symbolizing outstanding intelligence and higher learning. But even intelligence to the point of genius had their downfalls such as the social and emotional isolation; no one but other intellects could completely understand that sentiment.
Charms Professor Filius Flitwick, a world-class duellist back in his heyday and Head of House for Ravenclaw, could freely admit that he cares quite deeply for his students' wellbeing. Flitwick was more often than not the professor to turn to if one needed support. He was extremely willing to lend a helping hand when needed whether it was to listen to the students' problems or help them understand practical and theoretical magic.
He also encouraged higher-order thinking and debates, with the latter tactic presently used by the Ravenclaws in addressing the presence of the 'anomaly'. As logical fellows, they weren't as quick to jump the gun and claim that the man was here to teach DADA.
They weren't like the Gryffindors; they needed evidence or a rational reason first.
"He might be Vector's assistant," suggested Michael Corner. "He does look like the Arithmancy type."
"But why would Professor Vector need an assistant?" Anthony Goldstein scoffed lightly, "She's too much of a hands-on, involved teacher to try and pass us along to a second-rate assistant."
Padma Patil took a draught from her goblet before saying, "How about DADA?"
"We've been over this," sighed Anthony. "There's still an empty seat to the right of Dumbledore."
"Yea, and we can't rule out that it's for a new professor and not a guest," added Michael patiently.
Terry Boot shook his head stoutly. "I'm telling you lot, it has to do with the seating arrangements."
Eddie Carmichael interrupted them. "Seating arrangements?"
"If you noticed, the professors are seated in a very specific fashion." Terry Boot drew an invisible line where Dumbledore sat, dividing the teacher's table in two. "The ones currently sitting to Dumbledore's right have courses that require some form of arithmetic logic."
Eddie noticed Bathsheda Babbling, Aurora Sinistra, the unknown man, Septima Vector, Severus Snape, the empty seat, and then Dumbledore. He raised an eyebrow at seeing the Ancient Runes professor but otherwise accepted Terry's theory.
Anthony smirked, muggle cheesiness taking hold, "Hey, the new teacher might not be a magician but rather a mathematician!"
His 'witty joke', as usually, fell flat. The Ravenclaws who heard the statement were stone-faced and staring at Anthony blankly.
What...?
The rather embarrassed and exasperated Ravenclaw tried to explain himself, "You know...Magician? Mathematician? It rhymes?"
"Good for you. We're back in muggle grade school," teased Padma.
Michael snickered, "A gold star for effort, right Anthony?"
"Oh shut it, Michael."
Eddie addressed Terry again. "Alright, then what about to the left of Dumbledore?"
"The professors seated there represent courses that involve more 'practical' magic."
His eyes travelled over the figure of Dumbledore to Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Poppy Pomfrey, Irma Pince, Rolanda Hooch, and Rubeus Hagrid.
Marietta Edgecombe, who had been listening to the explanation, remained unconvinced. "You're trying to see a pattern that fits."
"Am not!" bristled Terry.
"Yes, you are." Marietta pointed out easily. "I can easily tell you that the one's sitting to the Headmaster's right have classrooms above and below the ground to fourth floors. The professors to his left have rooms within the ground to fourth floors."
Cho Chang nodded, "Right. So maybe the teachers were seated based on the location of their rooms and not on the subject they teach."
"That doesn't make sense! Why would they organize themselves like that?" argued Terry.
Almost forgotten, Luna Lovegood replied breezily, "It's Hogwarts, Terry, and Dumbledore's our Headmaster."
The Ravenclaws were startled. Logic like that shouldn't have made so much sense.
Once the first course was completed, the golden dishes were cleared and replaced with dessert.
And a dog. There was a dog sitting on the new teacher's dish.
The dog blinked. Kakashi blinked back.
Dumbledore continued to eat as if it was a normal occurrence while the teachers and students stared avidly.
"What the-!"
"Look there's a dog on his plate!!!"
Pomfrey frowned, disgusted, "Isn't that...'Pakkun'?"
Indeed it was Pakkun but with whipped cream on his head too. He saluted with a lazy paw. ("Evenin' boss.")
("Pakkun.") The Konoha jounin stowed the book away and asked tiredly, ("And the others...?")
("We were raiding the kitchens so they're probably still downstairs, gorging.")
("...I see.") Kakashi gave him a look that promised certain reprimand on the horizon.
Pakkun's nose twitched. ("Mind if I hop down now? My paws are cold. It ain't fun standing on refrigerated metal.")
Sighing, Kakashi commented, ("I should tell the house-elves to send you back down.")
("What, and let me miss all the fun with gawking children?") Pakkun leapt from the plate and balanced perfectly onto his lap, smearing cream all over his pants.
("Hnm...")
Sinistra interrupted, "Mr. Hatake, the dog."
"Hmm?" Kakashi used the dessert spoon that came with the platter to scoop off the cream on his nindog's head.
Dumbledore came to Pakkun's rescue. "He is welcomed to the feast."
Pakkun looked up at the client and bobbed his head. ("Thanks.")
Right eye half-lidded, Kakashi mentioned idly, ("You're spoiled.")
("Add princess to that and I won't warm your pillow at night,") retorted Pakkun, deadpanned.
Without an iota of remorse, Kakashi pushed him off his lap and allowed him to sprawl under the table. ("Stay down there.")
("Yeah, yeah, yeah...")
Shaking his fur out in spite, Pakkun splattered cream everywhere much to the disgust of the professors (Vector and Sinistra in particular) and the anger of Filch (his arthritic hands were clenching and unclenching in a motion best described as 'just let me reach my broom so that I can smack you with it').
Kakashi appeared oblivious to the directed ire. Instead, he picked up another spoon and poked at his dessert. Gathering a spoonful, he lifted it close to his face, poised near where his mouth was-
Some of the students, especially the ones giggling early at the Hufflepuff table craned forward to watch.
-But he changed his mind and placed the spoon back down. The disappointment was tangible but Kakashi sat through it all, oblivious, staring at the stormy night sky above.
Other than Pakkun's unorthodox and impromptu arrival, dessert passed relatively uneventful. It was only when Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet did the Great Hall fall silent, chatter ceasing as quickly as it had begun.
"Now that everyone is fed and watered, please allow me your attention as I impart to you various 'important' messages."
Kakashi sat up in his seat and paid careful consideration to his words.
"I will now direct you to our caretaker Mr. Filch's list of objects forbidden in the castle. This compilation of some four-hundred and thirty-eight items can be viewed at Mr. Filch's office door, if anyone is interested."
Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling. "The next item on the agenda: I must remind everyone that Hogsmede is only accessible to students over third year with parental or guardian permission and that the Forbidden Forest is out-of-bounds for all students."
There was a short silence when the Headmaster glanced his way, and the shinobi knew.
"And as most of you may have noticed, we have a new staff member joining the Hogwarts family this year. Please help me in giving Mr. Kakashi Hatake, a diplomat from Eastern Asia, a warm and hearty welcome. May I present to you our new Hogwarts School Mediator."
Kakashi waved. Smattering, polite, curious applause came from the audience just as a low murmur of voices settled across all four tables.
"Eastern Asia?!"
"-not DADA?"
"-But then who's the bloke taking the cursed DADA seat?"
"What does a Mediator do?"
"-Mediator to mediate-?"
"-to mediate what?"
"-Mediate mentality?"
"-Maybe a muggle psychologist."
"-Don't tell me we have a psycho counsellor-!"
Dumbledore allowed the whispers to continue briefly before clearing his throat and intervening, "Our Mediator, Mr. Hatake, holds a most auspicious and special role which directly ties in with the fact that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year."
Shocked silence and gasps filled the room. Kakashi spotted a kid turn a splotchy yellow-purple. (That can't be healthy.)
Their Headmaster continued to smile though. "Yes. This year starting in October, we will be maintaining a prestigious event that will occur for the entire school year. Much of your teachers' time and energy will be placed upon this event, which is why organizing the inter-house competition may not be most suitable." Dumbledore's excitement was almost palpable. "So, it is with great pleasure that I announce that this year Hogwarts will be-"
BANG.
The doors to the Great Hall slammed open and effectively interrupted Dumbledore's speech. Gasps of surprise and fright echoed from table to table.
Dramatic backlight gave the figure at the doorway an eerie shadow. Kakashi, however, twitched and could almost hear the 'Dynamic entry!' ringing in his ears.
Except the image was skewed.
The man was dressed in boggy blacks and browns with flyaway grey hair drizzled with rainwater. His face was weather-beaten and grooved with scars, old and deep into the epidermis. Even with the distance between them, Kakashi could detect his scent – a prominent mix of bitter mothballs, dust, forest mud, and storm.
But what made him tense though was the eye of electric blue iris against shocking white that swivelled around the room (three-hundred-sixty degree sight?). It spun in his eye socket and flitted over several staff members and students before it found his gaze and matched him stare for stare.
Kakashi tilted his head challengingly before curving his singular eye lightly in a smile. The older man snorted and loped up to the dais as if he owned the Great Hall.
At the front, the wizard offered Dumbledore a heavily scarred hand and the Headmaster shook it pleasantly. In low undertones, they had a short conversation.
"Welcome Alastor."
"Dumbledore." Alastor nodded a greeting. "Sorry for the late arrival but I'm sure you've heard."
"Did they find the intruder?"
Alastor's frown deepened and he shook his head. "No. Ministry's running around like headless chickens."
"We'll talk about this further at a later time. Please take a seat." Dumbledore ushered his guest towards the empty chair next to his place on the table.
Kakashi circumspectly watched Alastor eye the sausages on the plate suspiciously before consuming one. The man then took a long swig from the hip flask, electric blue eye swivelling in the socket...
From under the table, Pakkun groaned under his breath. "Shodai Hokage, what is that awful stench?"
Hackles rose along his neck. Pakkun could smell a strange concoction, its odour a distinct combination of old toenails, bitter root, rusted nails, and unwashed grime. Grumbling, he nosed Kakashi's ankle and tried to cover his olfactory organ with the cloth of Kakashi's pants.
He sneezed but his summon master was kind enough not to kick him away.
(...That was until he accidentally brushed against a ticklish nerve and shocked a chuckle from him.)
Dumbledore said brightly, "May I introduce to you our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alastor Moody."
Kakashi didn't do clapping. The other staff and students were too distracted to applause (Kakashi heard whispers of 'Mad-Eye Moody' in the sea of teenagers). Only Dumbledore and Hagrid brought their hands together and their greeting was shortened when they realized that no one else joined them.
Moody appeared to be unbothered by the nonexistent reception.
Dumbledore grinned cheerfully and started again, "As I was saying before Professor Moody's arrival, this year Hogwarts is given the privilege of hosting an event that hasn't occurred for over a century. I have the pleasure of announcing that Hogwarts will be the venue for the Triwizard Tournament."
Kakashi counted away the silence. "5...4...3..."
"You're JOKING!" cried out a red-headed teen (another Weasley? He certainly had physical similarities to Charlie).
The tension broke and a flood of laughter filled the Great Hall.
"No, Mr. Weasley-" Kakashi sighed. So he was right. Dumbledore continued, "I assure you that I am not joking but I do know an excellent joke that's bound to get a few chuckles-"
McGonagall cleared her throat.
"Probably not the best time though." Dumbledore smiled benignly, "But the Triwizard Tournament..."
At this point, Kakashi's attention drifted slightly, as he already knew about the tournament since his arrival at Hogwarts. Basically, the Triwizard Tournament is a competition between three of the largest European wizardry institutes – Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts. One 'champion' was selected from each school and they were pitted against each other through the means of three tasks. A century ago, the tasks might have put the champions in mortal danger but that had since been rectified – or so Kakashi had been told.
Not that Kakashi particularly enjoyed pitting students in life-or-death situations but he personally thought that the wizards might be babying their younger generation a bit too much. Tasks and challenges were made to test the student's mettle and in their culture, success could mean the difference between survival and death.
Dumbledore cleared his throat pointedly and Kakashi caught the tail end of his explanation. "-will be arriving in October. As they are foreign guests I will now ask that you extend every courtesy during their visit. I also hope that you will give your whole-hearted support to our Hogwarts champion and our Mediator will take steps to ensure proper school spirit is maintained."
All eyes turned to him. Kakashi leaned back against his seat and said nothing.
(He noticed that a few Hufflepuff students were whispering amongst themselves, glancing at him before pointing at their cheeks and laughing.)
Dumbledore clapped his hands twice. "Now chop chop. Off to bed. It is important to be attentive for classes tomorrow. Prefects, please guide the First Years to the dormitories."
The cloak of shadows hid him as he stealthily flew from the castle and into the target area. Dark and oppressing, rain continued to pour from the heavens, impeding his limited visual senses. However, he took comfort from his affinity as a slice of retina-searing lightning pierced the air, illuminating the transparent doors.
With deft fingers and a skilled twist of a hand, he easily broke into the building. The first wave of heat permeated into the cool night and as he slipped into the single room, he was careful to close the door behind him quietly.
That night, he began the setup for his assignment, necessary exploding tags and all.
Let the mission begin.
TBC
Another excellent fanart, charredfeathers? Spoiling me, you are. Hee. And I do have an omake in the works now but that scene probably won't make an appearance for a couple of chapters yet. Readers: onwards to my profile for the second link ;D (Labeled 'Reading Materials')
A/N: Belated update is belated. Remember dear readers, keep those forks and knives pointed away from me and your persons at all times :)
Further disclaimer: exotic fruit was meant to be a double-entendre and not used to offend any readers.
~Phoenyxx