Take Seven: Only Human (Underneath Dream and into Dreams without a Determined Reality.)

A bright, cheery morning dawned at Hogwarts and by seven-thirty-seven, the Great Hall was hustle-bustle with activity, packed with students and teachers alike (Dumbledore included). An array of delicious breakfast choices was presented neatly on the table surfaces; the house elves outdid themselves this time, what with the more Asian-inspired dishes sitting beside standard British fare.

Once again, Kakashi was sitting at his preordained seat, one hand firmly holding his choice of entertainment (a book about the importance of wand measurements) while the other hand was playing with the cutlery by his plate. Nimble fingers danced along the metal edges of a silver fork before the utensil was continuously twirled in a show of quick dexterity. Soon a knife and a spoon joined their spinning cutlery companion.

Professor Flitwick coughed by his elbow and raised a bushy white eyebrow. "Mr. Hatake, what are you doing?"

"Hmmm..." Kakashi placed his book on top of the platter in front of him and watched uninterested when platter and book disappeared to, most likely, the kitchens below. Flicking his fingers casually to keep the momentum in the twirling cutlery, he gave Flitwick his half attention. "I am mentally calculating the necessary force to apply on the fork, knife, and spoon so that these items can reach a terminal velocity comparable to a high-speed, flying kunai."

McGonagall's scowl deepened as she listened to his string of nonsense words but she decided to humour the Leaf ninja. "A flying kunai?"

"Yes. I'm aiming for the banister up there." The jounin pointed at a dark corner of the ceiling where a raven sat preening his feathers and continued, "Considering that the fork, knife, and spoon weren't made with an aerodynamic projectile role in mind, they will most likely require a greater handling force. Furthermore, I imagine that there will be a rather rough trajectory and noisy, messy impact."

Snape sneered, lips curling. "Impossible."

"Really...?" Kakashi turned part way in his seat to stare down the Potions Master.

"I agree with Professor Snape," hummed Professor Sprout. "No offense whatsoever but surely you can't aim that low. No...Not that low at all. Your comfort zone is usually at higher and steeper angles."

The shinobi stated pleasantly enough, "I can adapt."

Knowing that there was no point in deterring his strong-willed hired help, Dumbledore interrupted the conversation with a piece of wisdom. "Well whatever support beam you are aiming for, Mr. Hatake, I wish to warn you against scratching the doors of the Great Hall."

"Expensive varnish, wasn't it?" queried Filius.

"Yes," nodded Dumbledore sagely, seriously. "Very pricy hazelnut-scented unicorn-based varnish. I believe Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff paid a pretty fortune for a pint."

"That doesn't matter." Kakashi stood up from his seat, the chair scraping across the flagstone floor. "My aim is impeccable."

"With one eye?" asked Moody condescendingly. "Depth perception's important last I check."

"Isn't there an appropriate English phrase for this...?" The Leaf ninja pondered for a brief moment with an unnecessary exaggerated act. "Something about pots and kettles. Well. Good thing I'm not a pot but I can't say about you, kettle."

One of the Weasleys – well, Kakashi thought he was a Weasley with his sun fire hair – must have heard him for he pulled out his wand and conjured a kettle for Moody. The cheeky tinwork danced a little jig, much to Moody's ire and the students' amusement, and tipped his lid in a mock bow.

"Funny," muttered Severus, drab and monotone.

Flitwick chuckled agreeably. Eyes rolling behind stately glasses, McGonagall heaved a prim sigh. Sprout was all smiles, nodding along.

And Moody, he scowled darkly, clearly unhappy with the shinobi. So when Kakashi tossed the fork, knife, and spoon in a quick wrist release, Moody played saboteur and used his magic to redirect the projectiles. The metal utensils ended up nicking the Great Hall's front doors – chipping the lovely varnish.

All chatter from the students and teachers ceased.

"By jove-!" shouted one of the students in a cylindrical wizard's hat.

Kakashi gave Moody a disparaging look.

"Funny," repeated Severus and his lips curled with satisfaction and mockery.

McGonagall sighed again, "Why am I not surprised…?"

"That was not very nice of you, Moody," pitched in Sprout.

"I did what I had to do." Moody harrumphed and became one with his namesake, skulking in his chair and drinking out of his mysterious canister.

Dumbledore stood up in the midst of the grumbling and placated, "Settle down. Settle down. I'm sure Kakashi can fix this."

The shinobi, distracted from burning holes into Moody's skull (because striking down the raven with a fork felt important and Moody botched it for him!), blinked at Dumbledore owlishly. "Fix what?"

"The growing black hole in the door," chimed Flitwick as he pointed over his head towards the entranceway.

"And you don't ask me?" sniffed McGonagall, quite offended.

"My dear Professor," smiled Dumbledore calmly. "It is the task for our jounin to solve. No one else would know how to truly help him but himself."

The other professors shared a glance before looking at Kakashi expectantly.

He stared back at them and shrugged petulantly, "You're the ones with magic."

With blue eyes – painfully blue and almost the same as his – reflecting his gaze, Dumbledore stated seriously, "But you have chakra and so are more suited to tackle the issue."

"Hmm." Finding that he couldn't argue the point, Kakashi jumped over the dais and in-between the students' tables. All noise faded. Walking until he was but three meters away from the entrance, he peered closely into the swirling abyss gnawing at the wooden door. "Feels familiar…"

The hair along his nape prickled uncomfortably and he knew why when he heard an over exaggerated whisper directed into his left ear. "Familiar? My Eternal Rival, always more observant than the youth!"

Kakashi turned his head, inch-by-inch, towards his blindside, utterly expressionless. "Hello Gai. What are you doing here?"

"Where else would I be but by your side on your illustrious adventure, Kakashi?" Gai Maito posed – one, two, three! – and grinned. "Surely you did not expect our flourishing and beautiful Konoha, our home, to abandon you so?"

"…No." Kakashi ignored Gai's exclamations of 'fire' and 'youth' and once again puzzled over the black swirling mess clouding the entryway. "…Strange…"

"Strange? Certainly yes, my Eternal Rival." The Green Beast of Konoha pranced forward and leaned in, nose almost touching the vortex. Spinning around to face Kakashi, a booming question escaped his upturned lips. "Do you have a daring escape plan yet?"

"Plan?"

"Oh how hip and cool-!" Tears of joy spontaneously filled his eyes.

Kakashi rested a hand underneath his chin and took the final steps to the door. Taking a breath, Kakashi took the iron-wrought handle and pushed the door open.

The black vortex spun lazily and dispersed, allowing the light peeking from the revealed hallway purge the darkness of the Great Hall.

Dumbledore stood beside Kakashi. "That wasn't too hard of a task, was it?"

"…No."

Gai sniffed, "Then my Eternal Rival, I propose to give you a challenge worthy of your skills and deductive abilities!"

"Hrm."

"I concur with your friend, Kakashi…And it appears you have guests to attend to." Dumbledore stood calmly, ankle deep around furry bodies of white rabbits, weasels, and ferrets. "Perhaps this can be a suitable challenge."

Unbidden, an eyebrow rose. When did he miss the Great Hall being flooded with cute, fuzzy animals? A white rabbit sat on her haunches and gave him a beady, accusing stare.

"My Eternal Rival! Today is the day I will best you and your score! Whoever manages to carry the greatest number of our four-legged friends in their arms shall win! And I will not lose but if I do, Kakashi, I will finish one-thousand-and-one finger push-ups while you sit on my shoulders and make one-thousand-and-one laps around the wonderous Great Lake!" Gai smiled, teeth reflecting off sunlight. "That is my promise – my shinobi way!"

"Your shinobi way, hm?" Kakashi stared at Gai idly before subjecting himself to the task. "Very well."

"Perfect!" The green-clad jounin posed and set off to beat his rival.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I hope you can fix this problem as well, Kakashi."

"Any chance your magic-?"

"No magic."

"Alright." A soft exhale. "I will fix this problem."

"Yo, Kakashi."

He answered his pug when said canine nipped at his ankle (or was that the pesky weasel again?). "Yes, Pakkun?"

"Since it's not dinnertime, I'm guessing you don't need to use my head as a dessert plate?"

"…?"

(The raven crowed from its banister perch. With grace, the midnight bird flew into the enchanted ceiling and hid behind the silver-lined crimson clouds...)

Disquiet. Discomfort. An unfocused slate-coloured eye snapped open.

The first object he saw was Bisuke's stubby, wet nose and belatedly, he realized he had a warm, heavy, breathing mass of dog lying prone across his chest. He recalled how he released the other summons the previous night as per discipline but kept Bisuke around because he was the only one who didn't join Pakkun's oh-so-brilliant 'raid the pantry' escapade.

Gentle fingers tousled a floppy dog ear. Bisuke, who was still in mid-dream, kicked him in reflex. Scowling, Kakashi grunted and stilled the twitching dog limb.

Briefly overlooking his summon, he took time to scan his surroundings to spot anything out of place in his temporary quarters. Unsurprisingly, everything was as it should be and the connected bathroom was empty (No Gai lurking behind the shower curtains...). The many books and papers strewn over the desk and floor contributed to a normal scene and mercifully, through the night he didn't gain new bizarre occupants like rabbits or weasels or ferrets. By the corner on the wall, the black cloth still covered the sole painting in the room much to the chagrin of the man occupying said portrait; in fact, he was forced to relocate to the next floor down after his complaints about 'claustrophobia' were ignored.

Exhaling slowly and steadily, Kakashi eased his right hand up and over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose in gentle circles.

He murmured softly, "So that was...a dream."

Ears perked, Bisuke yawned and muttered tiredly, "What kind of dream...?"

A strange one. For one, there were not-weapons and kunai involved with ravens and weasels and and black holes and unhelpful wizards and Gai.

(...Impending skirmishes and warwith pawns and traitors and not-heroes and Akatsuki and there was doubt and uncertainty and a surprising degree of homesickness...)

Brushing back silver hair with his brows furrowed, he sighed, "...Nevermind."

"Ah." The ginger-brown nindog blinked his droopy eyes, pausing, before he voiced in a tone laced with cold scepticism. "Whatever you say, boss."

"Trust Bisuke to not question."

Kakashi tilted his head further into the fluffy down-stuffed pillows, eyes tracing the spidery cracks on the ceiling. Quiet descended the room. The absurdity he felt from the dream slowly trickled through the cracks of his mind and left him to peace. With a heavy left hand, he petted his companion from head to tail, a soothing gesture for both parties.

Bisuke responded with a soft snuff against his duvet cover, head lolled gently to the side. Legs kicked outwards in a stretch, the dog spread across his middle gradually settled and blinked his eyes wearily. Kakashi left the weight of his hand splayed over Bisuke's torso, grounding them both.

(And neither of them would ever admit to cuddling because they were most definitely not. Cuddling wasn't even in ninja vocabulary. They were...resting...or, well, something similar to that idea.)

"Early morning...Rain is falling..."

Stilted grey light flooded through the windows of Hogwarts. It was seven-thirty in the morning, exactly half an hour before the start of the first classes of the year. Wisely, Kakashi took precaution to avoid the ruckus in the Great Hall. Instead with 'Hogwarts, A History' opened, he wandered the halls with Bisuke, short but strong limbs easily keeping pace, chasing at his heels.

But even with his extra care in taking the less populated hallways, there were curious students milling around, their half-whispers prickling his senses.

"Look! The new professor-"

"And that dog with him-"

"-ose ears and tho-"

"-eyes are funny look-"

"-erlin's great long beard, it's unnatur-."

"-watched too much muggle televis-."

"Cute cape-!"

"-that mark on the forehead-"

"Quite the muggy weather we're having."

There was an unnoticeable stop before Kakashi agreed softly, "Ah."

"Good morning, Mr. Hatake." That was more of a resigned jab. No, Hogwarts' staff surely did not forget the way this shinobi riled their Potions Master; certainly though, the shinobi was partially faultless on that part when it was said Potions Master who wouldn't let them forget.

Skimming the page of his book, he exchanged politely, "Good morning, Professor Sprout."

The stout woman was walking steadily beside the taller, lankier man and hinted, "Surely you have a reason for heading this way."

'This way' included her greenhouses. Kakashi smiled benignly at the thought before verbally responding, "Yes."

A drawn out pause lasted briefly as their footsteps – and pitter-patter of claws – echoed the hallway. Sprout prompted, "And?"

"And I would like to observe your class today." Making an abstract motion with his left hand as he juggled 'Hogwarts, A History' in his right, Kakashi added a chipper tone he didn't feel, "For the cultural and educational experience."

Adjusting the strap to his bag, Neville stood near the entrance of Greenhouse Three, waiting patiently for Professor Sprout to arrive. Alone, he shifted from foot to foot nervously, wondering why the kind Professor was running late on the first day. He knew that the herbologist liked to prepare the specimens before the class arrived and Neville – if time permitted – would often try and arrive earlier to lend a hand.

He took a glance at his watch. Seven-forty-eight. Class was going to start in twelve minutes. Eyes wide and watching the immediate area for the Professor, he could spot a few curious Hufflepuff classmates approaching the assigned greenhouse from a distance away. And there, twenty paces in front of them...

"-I am flattered you decided to attend mine first, don't get me wrong-" said Professor Sprout, voice carrying loudly over the space from the entrance of the main castle to the greenhouses. To Neville, she seemed more exasperated than annoyed.

Beside her, the Mediator and his pet – a different dog from the feast – followed persistently. Ambling along and almost towering over Pomona Sprout height-wise was the man, Mr. Hatake, slouched forward with his hands in his trouser pockets. Neville puzzled over how his laidback gait was neither too slow nor too fast, rather, it was at just the right speed to match the pace of Professor Sprout.

Neville heard him say smoothly, deep baritone voice ringing clearly in the courtyard, "And I am grateful."

The professor he respected gave her companion a sidelong glance. "Yes, as you should be."

Mr. Hatake gave her a noncommittal hum.

"Surely I can direct you to Minerva's class? I believe she has First years this morning and they are generally more receptive."

There was an almost comically wounded expression on his face as the black-haired man bemoaned, "I feel as if you don't wish for my presence here, Professor. Perhaps I should look for Professor McGonagall…"

Anyone a mile away could see the understatement that 'don't wish for my presence' was. In fact, Neville noticed that Professor Sprout looked quite ready to deny the man – that was, until before that statement.

Now in the face of Mr. Hatake's hurt, Sprout only hesitated before finally relenting. "No, you don't have to find her." The professor said regretfully, "Sorry, Mr. Hatake, if my intentions appear negative. That wasn't my aim."

A neutral grunt was his simple response.

Interestingly, Sprout's face seemed startlingly pinched as she chided, "But please do take care around the Flutterby bushes."

"Of course, Professor," answered Mr. Hatake obediently.

"And no nearing the work tables."

"No. That didn't even cross my mind."

Here, the Herbology Professor added matter-of-factly, "And I trust that your hands today are safely within the confines of your pockets?"

"Well-" The foreigner started, "I think I should say again that shattering your Flutterby bush pot was a ruse-"

Neville spotted Sprout's pointed look almost as soon as Mr. Hatake did; the young Gryffindor knew that gaze well and it appeared Hogwarts' Mediator understood what was expected too. Obedience. Like handing over a reluctant admittance, the man sighed, restating dutifully, "-that I will not repeat. I will keep my hands to myself unless otherwise asked of."

"Good!" Smiling cheerfully now, Professor Sprout walked the final meters to the entrance of her garden classroom and greeted, "Hullo Mr. Longbottom. Earlier than usual."

"Hu-oh! Good morning." He stuttered, feeling heat creep up his neck when the Professor focused her attention on him. And then, taking an unconscious step backwards when the unfamiliar grey eye rested on his person with dulled interest, Neville swallowed, "Actually Professor…It's nearly time for class to start."

"Oh that's no good. Running late on the first day!" Professor Sprout took a heavyset key from her cloak pocket to open the locked door of the greenhouse. Pushing her way through the entrance, she beckoned for them to follow. The Mediator turned his attention back to the woman in front of him and trailed along.

Neville let loose a breath and was about to enter the greenhouse as well when a small furry body stepped in the way. The dog, continuing to strut behind his master, paused briefly at the threshold of the greenhouse door to direct a soulful, pathetic stare back at him. Neville halted mid-step, returning the eye contact, and was taken aback by the depth of intelligence he saw. Unbeknownst, self-preservation instincts kicked in. Sweating whilst smiling nervously, Neville motioned with his hands, graciously offering the pup first claim to entry.

A short appraising look and low snort later, the animal trotted along into the greenhouse, tail wagging.

Neville followed after it. He probably imagined it but he thought he heard the dog mutter something in words when the canine turned away…

(And within the next few weeks when more information was revealed about Mr. Hatake and his 'pets', Neville would realize that the dog was probably saying 'thank you'.)

Ron did a double-take – as did most of his age-mates – when they entered the greenhouse and spotted not only Professor Sprout but also their 'Hogwarts' School Mediator' loitering behind her. An orange-shaded dog with a strange tattoo branded on its forehead sat by the man's heel. The canine snuffed loudly but otherwise seemed bored – that is if dogs could be victims of monotony.

The Golden Trio settled in on a workbench unobtrusively. He started, "What do you think he's doing here?"

"Maybe he's here to teach," responded Harry.

Hermione answered shrewdly, "That or to observe the class."

"Why would he want to do something like that?" asked Ron. "It's not mediating anything."

Hermione gave him a cross look. "We don't even know what Dumbledore truly meant about the Mediator position. It's best if we don't jump to conclusions."

"But we do 'mione. He even explained it to us."

"I don't think celebrating 'inter-house relations' and maintaining 'proper school spirit' warrants an official staff position. There must be another reason," she insisted.

"Nah." Ron leaned against the table and teased, "You just don't want to accept the fact that he's getting paid to do nothing."

"Ron!" came her scandalized hiss. "Honestly."

A cross between amused and exasperated, Harry interrupted his bickering friends, "Well he's here now and class is gonna start soon…"

"I still say he'll have a hand in our education," added Hermione stubbornly.

Harry adjusted his glasses and voiced sheepishly, "I actually agree with Ron on this one."

She threw her hands up into the air. "You two are hopeless."

"Settle Fourth Years."

The three Gryffindors fell silent. Professor Sprout clapped her hands together and continued along when the noise died down. "Most exciting to be back but there will be plenty of time for chit-chat later."

A hand shot up immediately and Ron watched on with interest when the Professor bade her to speak.

Hannah Abbot asked hesitatingly, "Are we being graded by Mr. Hatake?"

"Why don't we direct that question to Mr. Hatake?" deferred Professor Sprout with a small grin.

Beside him, he could feel Hermoine tense like a taut wire and the rest of the class stirred uneasily. He asked Harry, "You don't suppose they'd be cruel enough to give us a pop quiz the first day back?"

His best friend frowned, "Dunno, Prof-"

"Hush, it looks like he's about to speak," rebuked Hermione.

Indeed, Mr. Hatake was shifting his arms before answering with a curt, "No."

The class waited for an explanation and when they received none, Professor Sprout clucked, "What Mr. Hatake means is that he'll be watching and learning with the class today-" Ron gave Hermione a flat look when she smiled. "-So let's get started."

The Professor picked up the specimen. "Bubotuber and they need squeezing."

Ron greened at the sight of the slimy, black, slug-like tubers sticking out of the soil.

Sprout continued, "You will collect the pus-"

"The what?"

Hatake's dog sat up straighter with the loud proclamation while the owner of said dog appeared unaffected. Ron had a sinking suspicion that even when standing amidst squirting green ooze, the man would be still just as unfazed as he was now.

Harry, though, wrinkled his nose in an expression of revulsion and Ron agreed that Seamus' and Harry's disgust was wholeheartedly justified. Certainly, the red head did not want to collect pus anytime soon in his lifetime.

But it seemed Sprout was less than sympathetic by the outburst. "Pus, Finnigan, Pus. Extremely valuable too, so don't waste-"

A loud hiss and bang.

Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watched with wide eyes and open mouths as the gilded metal rack behind Professor Sprout snapped apart. Tilting precariously were several pots, glass vases, and heavy clay containers. Just before they fell upon the stout witch, the students witnessed Hatake make an almost frantic, graceless dive – more belly flop, really – and managed to push the woman out of harms way.

Adobe pots shattered in a halo behind the still, huddled figures of their Herbology Professor and Mediator.

And then the greenhouse erupted in mad screeches and chaos.

"Professor! Professor," cried out Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Wait, give them room," bayed Susan Bones.

Blowing disarrayed bangs away to keep them from obscuring her sight, Sprout, struggling, sat up and called out sharply to her panicking students, "Is everyone alright?"

There was a murmured chorus of 'yes'.

"Are you alright, Professor?" asked their Mediator as he righted himself.

Horrified gasps were traded amongst the circle of students.

Sprout glanced at Kakashi and paled. "Hatake-!"

The foreigner, who was kneeling in front of her, reeled back with his hands up in a gesture of defence. "My hands didn't leave my pockets."

She ogled him and sputtered, confounded that he thought she was blaming him for the strange collapsing of the metal racks. "No. You're bleeding!"

A ripple of panicked chattering erupted from the students when they heard of the injury. Some even craned their heads out to try and catch a glimpse of it. The others who were up front and in perfect view of the scene bit down on their lips at the sight of dripping blood from the open wound.

"Oh?" Kakashi relaxed and glanced at his arm, nodding. "So I am."

"And your head…Doesn't it hurt?" Her hand hovered over the deep gash while her eyes traced the livid bruise blooming on his temple.

"…Yes. Yes it does." The frown turned into a grimace of agony but he seemed distracted. He looked around and called out, ("Bisuke.")

Sprout asked, "Bis-cuit?" The students surrounded them repeated the word in hushed tones. "Biscuit? Biscuit?"

The dog that accompanied Kakashi emerged from beneath the cover of a workstation and bounded over. She watched as the foreigner rested his good hand on the top of the canine's head when it neared and spoke a sentence in his native language – a language she, as well as the students, didn't understand.

("Epsilon-delta-four.")

Ginger-furred dog ears perked up perceptibly before flattening. Biscuit visibly wilted and whined, resting a paw on the knee of his master.

Glancing from the wailing dog and injured man before her, she fluttered and rose to her feet. "This will not do. We must get you to Poppy immediately."

The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors fidgeted and the Professor waved them off. "Class is dismissed."

"But Professor! Do you need help…?"

"No, we will be fine," stated Sprout firmly. As the last students trickled out of the classroom with several backward glances, Sprout explained quickly, "Mr. Hatake, I will need to immobilize you for the time being to prevent your blood from flowing any faster."

"I see." There was a rebellious spark that was quickly hidden. "If that is what you deem the best course of action, I'll agree."

"I'm afraid there may be potentially dangerous residues circulating throughout your body. In a greenhouse, you can't be too cautious." Sprout pursed her lips together and took her wand out. "Petrificus totalis. Mobilicorpus."

"Let us go, Biscuit – was it not? Yes, Biscuit," Sprout muttered and took the fastest route to the Infirmary.

The little dog, now-dubbed Biscuit, appeared displeased but otherwise tracked after his helplessly frozen master who was at the mercy of the Hufflepuff Head of House.

"-Don't really understand what happened, Poppy," fretted Sprout. "I was instructing the children on the merits of collecting Bubotuber pus and out of nowhere was this dreadful sound like snapping metal and then the racks behind me came apart!"

"Oh my…" Madam Pomfrey replied from the backroom as she fetched the supplies.

"And if it wasn't for Mr. Hatake, I'm sure the racks would have fell on top of me!" proclaimed Sprout almost shrilly.

"Really?" floated Poppy's voice. "Is that why-?"

Sprout grinned, rubbing a smudge of dirt on her cheek self-consciously, "He pushed me out of harms way. Bravery and heroics."

"Well I'm glad you're safe Pomona and we definitely need to get someone to investigate that later but right now..."

Kakashi looked up. The two-inch deep gash along his arm as well as the bruise on his forehead was healing along nicely because of several elaborate flicks with Pomfrey's wand. Reclined against the pillows of the bed, he tracked the medic's movements as she reappeared. In her arms were several vials and Kakashi had a sinking suspicion he was expected to drink the contained concoctions. Beside him, Bisuke was quiet but immediately hid his nose into the covers of the bed.

("What is it?")

("Smells bad.")

Sprout, situated unobtrusively at the corner of the room, listened in with interest.

("The potions?") At Bisuke's nod, Kakashi could feel his anxiety rising. ("You don't suppose you can drink them for me?")

("Sorry boss, but the medic-")

Kakashi interrupted hopefully, ("The medic doesn't have to know.")

("Boss…But you've always been telling us to 'not mess with the medics'.")

("But-")

("And isn't this part of the mission?")

An irritable frown was hidden behind his navy-blue scarf. He was about to retort when Pomfrey interrupted their banter.

Poppy, halting at the foot of his bed, began passing the flasks. The first one was bright red. "Drink this. A blood replenishing potion."

He sighed, very careful to hide the unease, and took the bottle. Pomfrey reproached, "I don't think I have to remind you that you've lost a lot of blood."

With mock cheer, Kakashi tipped the liquid down his throat quickly and nearly gagged. He drank quite a few unsavoury concoctions over the years but this…The blood replenishing potion tasted terrible – like drinking viscous blood or a sour corn syrup and iron slurry.

Poppy took the empty flask from his hands and pressed another one into it. "Good man. You would do well in Gryffindor, dear."

Ah. So it was 'dear' now, was it? "Thanks, Madam." Kakashi twirled the potion in his hand. "What is this?"

"Antitoxin."

"…To drink?"

Poppy frowned, lips whitening, "Are you questioning my methods, Hatake?"

"…Of course not, Madam. You would know best."

"Good. Drink up."

And so for the next twenty minutes, he was filled to the brim with magic-based cocktails designed to 'bolster health and recovery'. Surely there was something wrong when he gradually felt sicker and sicker to the point…Well…It definitely wasn't a shining moment in his life when he…

…He threw his proverbial cookies. (All without revealing his face, naturally.)

After he was done, the medic gave him a glass of cool water. Glancing at the worried expression on Sprout and a careful professionalism and genteel he never witnessed from the medic, he couldn't help but smirk gleefully.

Maybe becoming sick wasn't so bad in hindsight. As the English phrase goes, 'Hook, line, and sinker'.

"Phase one complete. Phase two complete."

("You did well back there, Bisuke.")

("Thanks boss.")

Left alone in the infirmary while Madam Pomfrey lurked in her office, Kakashi and Bisuke were resting on the provided bed. The jounin-ranked shinobi shuffled a hand through his hair and remarked, feeling he had to explain himself, ("I know I rarely use epsilon-delta-four but the situation called for it.")

Because, rarely used as it was, that command, 'epsilon', or act, and 'delta-four', retreat to sympathy, was also usually given to Guruko only, not Bisuke.

("I copied Guruko…Doing my impression of him begging without the slobber,") stated the summon as he sat up, alert. ("But why that command specifically?")

("Well I was trying to win sympathy points for the mission,") murmured the shinobi as he swung his legs off of the cot and stood up shakily before sitting back down. He rubbed his arm. ("And it worked, for the most part.")

("Boss…") Bisuke's ears tipped downwards, nose catching a sniff of illness.

A warning-laced reprimand. ("I'm fine.") The shinobi wet his lips and frowned, ("Though remind me to double underline in red the sentence 'chakra and magic do not mix when applied internally' on the mission scroll.")

Kakashi had to admit. The potions he consumed are proving to have a very…potent effect against his stomach. Maybe Konoha could benefit from this wizardry-medic-know-how…

Certainly, he couldn't imagine his enemies enjoying what he drank this morning.

Bisuke shook him out of his reverie when he nodded. ("Will do boss.")

"Good…" Kakashi noticed Bisuke understand the gist of the English word. ("Now let's go.")

("Go? But the lady medic…") He waved a paw. ("She didn't smell happy when you tried to get out.")

("But I'm healed.") Kakashi tried to shake off his light-headedness. ("She healed me!")

Bisuke almost wished Pakkun were here to talk some sense into Kakashi.

But that turned out unnecessary because Poppy suddenly appeared, sticking her head out the office door to glare at his boss, and chided, "Stay put in bed, Mr. Hatake."

So the morning past uneventfully with quite a bit of fidgeting on part of the patient. Bisuke though, he ended up staring at the medic for the remainder of their stay until lunchtime was just about to roll around the corner and…

"That's it!" Pomfrey marched towards Kakashi and faced him. "Just go."

"Really?" asked Kakashi suspiciously.

"Your dog is…" The medic let loose a strangled noise, shooting a dirty look at the innocently staring canine (who, did she mention, was still unblinkingly staring at her). "-Distracting me."

Bisuke shook out his fur. Kakashi shrugged. "He's curious and bored."

"So, don't let me hold you back like you've been holding me back from completing my work." Poppy pointed to the door. "Go on then and good riddance."

Ginger-furred ears twitched as Kakashi sneaked a hand to ruffle his head in appreciation.

Escape from infirmary? Mission also complete!

Being gawked at by the masses? This sort of reception he did not expect.

He felt…diseased and the students certainly weren't helping matters by giving him such a wide berth when he passed by. He was almost tempted to hail one of the kids to see if they'd faint if he addressed them – being as they often went white as a sheet as he neared.

Kakashi scratched at the bandage around his arm, the stark white cloth peeking through his black cloak easily. He murmured almost absently, ("They seem antsy.")

Bisuke trotted along, mum about his boss' obliviousness. And they called him 'Kakashi of the Sharingan'! ("Boss. I think they're in awe.")

("…Of what?")

("I don't know.") But he did. ("They smell like nervous sweat when they approach you.")

The shinobi gave his summon a flat sidelong glance using his good eye. ("I didn't need to know that.")

("Just doing my duty. You know. Reporting to you.") There was no bite of sarcasm there. Kakashi knew Bisuke was being serious; he hardly ever jokes around. Besides he only needed one cynical canine in his dog pack and that role went to Pakkun.

"Good thing Pakkun isn't here to witness this…But then again…" He took a second glance at Bisuke. "He might squeal." That revelation only caused him to sigh more deeply.

But his mood was shortened when…"Mr. Hatake." He was addressed.

Kakashi bobbed his head politely. "Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall, with books piled high in her arms, wore a severe expression. She accompanied his calm jaunt down the hall. "I have a note from the Headmaster," was the curt statement.

"No wonder she looks like Tsunade-sama without her sake…Seems like McGonagall doesn't like playing messenger, but then again, who does?" But Kakashi kept those thoughts internalized and graciously took the proffered note that somehow magically flew in front of his face. "Thank you."

McGonagall's brow creased even deeper as she wavered before asking with aseptic kindness, "I heard from Pomona. Are you alright?"

Kakashi pocketed the note without a second glance. "I'll live." His ears perked when he caught sound of a growing crowd down the hall.

"Good." McGonagall uttered under her breath in a statement that Kakashi knew wasn't meant for his ears. "Hm. Gryffindor? Really Pomona?"

As the two were about to turn the corner of the hallway and McGonagall was about to take her leave from Kakashi, they were stalled.

Beside him, McGonagall dropped all her books in dramatic shock – not that he could completely blame her. He took in the spectacle at the atrium and remarked softly, "Never gets dull around here, does it?"

From his vantage point up at the top of the stairs, he could see a crowd of students watching with wide-eyed amazement. At the center was mysterious Professor Moody of 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' flinging around a…

…Was that a ferret? Kakashi might just have to humour the idea of Moody being previously involved with a lion circus act. Maybe Moody had to throw lions around…He sure looked experienced enough throwing around helpless bodies and that scenario could certainly explain how Moody received all those hideous scars marring his face...

Bisuke's ears downturned in sympathy and McGonagall cried out, shocked, "Professor Moody!"

The crowds' attention was diverted onto them. The murmuring intensified to a frenzy.

Moody, looking less drowned than he remembered, answered calmly, "Hello, Professor McGonagall…and Mr. Hatake, was it? I don't think we've been introduced yet."

"No better time than now," he quipped. "It's nice to meet your acquaintance, Professor Moody."

McGonagall shot him a withering look before turning back to Moody. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching."

This time, Kakashi did feel the shock that McGonagall might have experienced when they initially arrived at the scene. The Head of Gryffindor was obviously much beyond that point now when she let loose a strangled, "Is that a student?!"

With the one and one together, Kakashi commanded curtly, ("Bisuke. Gamma.")

Gamma. Retrieve.

Sprinting faster than wizard eyes could track, Bisuke snatched the bouncing ferret from the air and held the student-turned-animal by the nape of his neck a distance away from Moody.

McGonagall paled even further. "Mr. Hatake! Call off your dog at once."

Kakashi's eyebrows contracted downward. "Bisuke isn't hurting him."

"Just-!"

"And I believe that this is a better alternative than suffering from bruises, wouldn't you agree, Professor?"

The Transfiguration Professor's mouth opened and closed silently in protest.

Walking until he was arms-length from Bisuke, Moody knelt in front of the calm dog carrying the squirming animal in his mouth. Palms up as a gesture best perceived as 'not an enemy', the ex-Auror slowly reached out to take the ferret but stopped when the dog growled.

Moody stilled. Draco Malfoy stopped struggling, clearly frightened. The students held baited breaths, enraptured by the scene.

Walking down the stairs until he was at the base, Kakashi clucked, ("Go ahead, Bisuke.")

Obediently, the summon dropped his cargo gently on the ground. Moody, in a quick display of dexterity, grabbed the shaking ferret before he could run away.

Kakashi remarked, "Transfiguration as punishment." McGonagall twitched when he asked her, "I didn't know Hogwarts had medieval punishments still in practice." He should know what constituted as medieval punishment; he had read it in 'A Guide to Medieval Sorcery'.

Moody answered for her, offering Kakashi a grizzly, grim smile. "Whatever works."

That statement seemed to shake McGonagall out of her stupor. "No! What are you teaching Mr. Hatake, Professor?!" she emphasized, rushing down the stairway in a flurry of hasty steps. She drew out her wand and a moment later, the blond Malfoy heir lay sprawled across the stone-flagged floor on top of Moody's feet.

Face red, McGonagall rounded on Moody again, "Surely Professor Dumbledore has mentioned that we never use Transfiguration as punishment?"

"He might've…" Moody shrugged, electric blue eye spinning in its socket. "But I thought a sharper reprimand woulda been more effective."

"Detentions! That's what you use as punishment," growled McGonagall. "Or else you talk to their Head of House."

"Might as well go do that then." Moody stared down at Malfoy darkly. "Been meanin' to talk to Snape…An old friend…" He scratched his chin and tugged Malfoy by the upper arm, raising him up off the floor. "Come along."

McGonagall watched the spectacle with mixed feelings.

"Oh, and Kakashi Hatake?" Moody turned back around to face the shinobi.

Kakashi didn't back down. "Alastor Moody."

"Useful dog." He gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Cute thing."

The shinobi pocketed his hands, agreeing with a mild, "Ah."

A stare off. 'The ex-Auror' seemed to gauge 'the foreigner' before he offered a scarred hand. All the students around them shifted in poorly concealed surprise.

Kakashi glanced at the hand before reluctantly offering his.

They shared a cordial hand shake.

"Did you hear how Hatake rescued Professor Sprout from an acid-spitting Bubotuber?" asked a Hufflepuff student excitedly. "It's been said that Hatake jumped into the fray, got himself injured, but managed to subdue the beast with a complex Incendio spell."

"What? That's not what happened – and I should know 'cause I was there!" exclaimed Justin.

Megan Jones piped, "Well never mind that – his dog was so impressive! I mean the way it just snatched Malfoy outta the air like that-! Utterly amazing."

"Though couldn't he have waited a bit longer? Malfoy had it coming…" muttered Zacharias Smith.

"I'm just kinda surprised Moody didn't round in on Hatake when he intervened," said Ernie.

"Yea, that too."

Justin thought out loud, "Though, kind of strange, Professor Moody and Mr. Hatake do seem to get along swimmingly, having just met."

"Well you can't forget Mr. Hatake's a diplomat."

Blank looks were shared around.

Susan Bones explained patiently, "That means that he probably has diplomatic immunity and perhaps power to sway over the Ministry. And Moody, he's ex-Auror of the Ministry and I've heard from my aunt that he was one of their best, so he probably knows about Hatake's position."

"Oh." The other students mulled over that information.

Then Ernie started chuckling, "But anyway, did you see McGonagall's face? Priceless."

Snape, who just finished his unnerving 'conversation' with Moody, was marching down the hallway with Dumbledore when they caught a snippet of the conversation. The Potions Master scowled darkly at the gossiping students, who, upon noticing their presence, scattered.

Beside him, Dumbledore was glad he decided it was about time that he and Kakashi have afternoon tea – a serious afternoon tea.

All he would need to do now is add to the agenda: 'reemphasis on no corporal punishment'.

TBC

A/N: Oh biscuits and ferrets.

~Phoenyxx