The Last and Lost Testaments of one Albus Dumbledore
Faithful reader(s) who still go on even after being dared once before,
Yes, it would seem that fate played a minor card in our hands in the beginning, but later on it would be the royal flush that brought us together.
I don't know exactly when it was that I began to realize that this young girl was something truly astounding. I, Albus Dumbledore, am not too proud to admit that I was blinded by everything I saw in her, and am not so ashamed to say that she was quite the mystery. To me, she started out as a puzzle piece that I had no idea where to place. Her jagged edges and winding curves left me dumbfounded as to where she belonged in the great jigsaw of life that surrounded me.
So I left her where she lay until I could put some of my other pieces together...And it was almost as if she fell into her place...
FLASHBACK
"GRYFFINDOR!" The booming voice of the raggedy sorting hat rang out over the great hall.
I couldn't help but smile at her as she looked to the head table; searching for some sort of approval from the staff. I wasn't the least bit surprised. After all, I had met the girl not two months before, and had a gut feeling that she radiated the knowledge and roared with the pride only a true Gryffindor could possess.
After the applause had settled and Minerva had taken her first seat as a member of the Gryffindor house, another young lady sat upon that stool trembling with terror as to what this silly hat was going to say to her.
"Good evening, Miss Poppy. I have been waiting for you for quite some time. Your parents should be proud; I see you have a great mind and a yearning for knowledge. Ravenclaw would suit you well...But you also have a thirst to help others along life's weary path." The voice of the sorting taunted her mind as she sat, on the verge of tears with excitement, nervousness, and fright.
It seemed to her that eternity and an hour had passed before the sorting hat put her in her house. "HUFFLEPUFF!" Poppy immediately relaxed and headed for her house table to join the rest of her badger brethren.
Poppy Pomfrey is a tidy witch, no doubt a tad overly hygenic, but her mother was a mediwitch, and her father had been a dentist in muggle London. Her long blonde hair is tied back into a wavy ponytail, and her face is clean; a well kept one with no need for heavy cosmetics. Her robes, starched, pressed, and wrinkle free, billow ever so slightly as she finds a seat near another first year Hufflepuff.
The sorting continues through letter "R" and another name is called. "Pomona Sprout!"
A short, stalky witch makes her way up to the stool; walking toward her fate. She struggles to obtain a seat upon the stool, and requires help from the scroll-reader. A few moments later, Pomona sighs heavily as the hat takes its place upon her head. "Ah, Miss Pomona, I'm glad to see that the dirt is absent from your hair, just wish I could say the same for those fingernails of yours..." Pomona grinned.
"I am quite the garden gnome you see," she thought so only the sorting hat itself could hear.
It took the hat virtually no time to sort Pomona. And it was not a moment later that there was another addition to the Hufflepuff table.
And what seemed like a second afterwards, the doors to the great hall burst open to reveal the groundskeeper with a second year witch by the ear. "Ouch! Bugger off, will you? I was only trying to get my broom!" The witch with short, spiky hair and hawk-like yellow eyes somehow managed to wriggle free of the groundskeeper.
"And stay out of my office, for the last time!" The great hall was quieter than a monastery full of monks after taking their vows of silence.
"Mr. Codswell," the groundskeeper looked up, startled, when he heard the voice of the Headmaster, Armando Dippet. "is there a problem?"
"Aye, you're bloody right there's a problem, headmaster! This little wench was snoopin' 'round..." The rave of Mr. Codswell was cut quite short.
"I do insist, Hubey, that you pay closer attention to your surroundings and your mouth. One deflects uninvited feet this way." The headmaster was strict, but a wave of suppressed giggles and tickled gestures washed over the staff table. "Ms. Hooch. Your seat, please? I would hate to have these students' evenings ruined due to your incapacity to follow the rules."
Rolanda Hooch, her face as red as the Gryffindor drapes, made her weary way to the Ravenclaw table where she was greeted with several high-fives from her friends.
The rest of the sorting went by slower than molasses in the middle of December. And by the end of it all, loud rumbles could be heard throughout the great hall. The cause?
Hunger.
Headmaster Dippet stood and gave the signal for the feast to begin, and the students eyes grew enormous when they saw the food magically appear in front of them. Minerva was quite sure she had never seen so much food in all her life. "Do we always eat like this?" she asked the third year seated next to her.
With a mouthful of potatoes, the boy replied, "Of course we do," he took a moment to swallow, much to MinervaÕs relief. Bad manners were frowned upon severely in her family. "how else do you think the school would expect us to get strong so we can play quidditch??? I mean, Hogwarts turns in the most professional players on the rosters of big teams throughout the globe."
Minerva smiled, yes, she knew the game of quidditch rather well. It was the one thing she enjoyed that her mother did not approve of. It would seem that anything short of chess in a skirt would not suit the tastes of Elena. "Why on earth would anyone want to ride around on a broom and dodge big metal balls for fun?" Mrs. McGonagall always argued with her father when he and Minerva would leave to watch international matches around the world. The McGonagall family was a wealthy one, and had many opportunities to travel, but Minerva was taught to always remain humble and ladylike even as a small child.
It wasn't long before the first years felt right at home with their Hogwarts family. Plates were empty, and looks of satisfaction were worn by the students after the meal was finished.
I am thrown from my observations as Armando reaches over and places a hand on my shoulder. "Well, deputy, it looks like we've got another interesting year ahead of us."
I chuckle and sip my pumpkin juice. "So it would seem, Armando...So it would seem." I place my goblet on the table and look to the Gryffindor table. Ms. McGonagall looks to be in a conversation with an older student already. I am rather excited to see what our first years are like; ready to tell which students are the brains, the beauties, and the brawns.
I glance around the great hall and notice that Ms. Hooch and Ms. Sprout get up at the same time to excuse themselves to the girls lavatory. Seated back to back, they try to stand, and wind up on top of one another on the floor. I could've guessed what was going to happen next.
"Gerroff will ya'? It's bad enough I've already been dragged around by that pig Codswell...I don't need a giant oaf sittin' on me as well." Rolanda has always had a sharp tongue, but Pomona doesn't seem too happy to be called an oaf on her first evening at school.
She climbs off of Rolanda and allows her to stand before she takes a great swing at her head. She lands a good punch to Rolanda's nose, which surprises us all, even Ms. Hooch, who is holding her nose with her hands.
When she removes them from her face, all it takes is one glance at her blood covered hands to set her off. "YOU'VE GONE AND BLOODIED MY NOSE!" The next my eyes come to see, Rolanda and Pomona are wrestling on the ground; feet and limbs flying every which way.
Minerva, who looks up when she hears the Ravenclaw scream in anger, rushes over to the two and starts vigorously tugging at Rolanda to try and get her off Pomona. Even though it is her first night of her first year, Ms. McGonagall seems not to be the one for timidity and shyness. Ms. Pomfrey too joins in the scramble and grabs hold of Ms. Sprout.
When Minerva gets hit by a badly aimed punch, she stops trying to pull them apart and instead joins the tangled mess. This catches me by complete surprise, and I find myself rather disappointed in her actions. Poppy stands up and starts yelling. "Now look! You're just as bad as the other...OOF!" She has had her legs removed out from under her and seems to have landed on her posterior end.
"SILENCE!" Armando's voice is heard above the roar of the great hall. He is standing, fists in balls at his side, his face red with fury.
Once everyone has quieted down and the heap of girls quit with their tussling, Armando continues. "It would seem that your first night here has brought out the worst in all of you," he stops and lets the words sink into the students. "and I am highly disappointed. You are all dismissed and your head boy and girl will escort you to your dormitories. Do not make any detours on your way there, and I want complete and utter silence from all of you." The students get up to leave, even our little mischief makers. "NO. You four will stay in here until I decide what your punishment shall be."
Minerva's stomach hits the floor. 'Great, Minerva, just great. Your first night here and you've gone and gotten into trouble already!"
Armando sits and I take the opportunity to whisper in his ear. "Perhaps these four can join me on Monday evening for detention, yes? I am going to need help cleaning off my bookshelves. They seem to have accumulated a great amount of dust over summer break."
"Very well," he says aloud. "You four are to help Professor Dumbledore at seven o'clock on Monday evening for your detentions. And I don't want to hear a word of protest from any of you. What you all did was a disgrace to your heads of houses, this school, me, and worst of all, yourselves. Ms. Hooch, I would think that you would know better, seeing as how I gave you a warning already this evening," he pauses and throws his dinner napkin onto his plate. "and as for the rest of you, well...What a way to start off your days here at Hogwarts. First impressions are lasting impressions. Keep that in mind."
The four of them hang their heads, and not even Rolanda has anything to say. "You may go now, but you have proven to us that you shall need an escort. Your heads of houses will walk you to your common rooms. That is all."
I stand up from my chair, as do the head of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. The rest of the staff remains in the great hall to discuss what they are going to be teaching on their first day.
Ms. McGonagall waits for me to join before we make our way to the Gryffindor common room. Her head hangs low and her eyes are fixed upon the tiles all along the corridor. I glance over and place my hand underneath her chin in a gentle but firm way.
"Head up, Ms. McGonagall," I say, but she pulls her head away from my hand.
She says nothing and from the side, I catch a glimpse of a tear rolling down her cheek. I sigh and look straight ahead.
"I must say, I am highly disappointed in you." There is silence as the reechoing of these words leave a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach.
She whispers, the tears rolling freely now, "I'm sorry, professor. I just wanted to help and wound up getting myself into a big lot of trouble and-"
"No, Ms. McGonagall, I am not disappointed in you for getting into a tiff," she gives me a quizzical look and seems ready to question me, but I continue. "however, I am disappointed in the way you reacted. You see, when you hang your head, you lose your sense of pride, who you are, and what you stand for. Always be proud, Minerva; proud of yourself and all that you have and can do." Silence surrounds us yet again as we make our way up the last few steps to the common room.
But these words soon seem to hit home and she dawns a new expression; one of understanding and strength. "You're absolutely right, professor. I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor to have self-pity. If I was, the hat would've put me in Hufflepuff." She looks at me and laughs, and I soon join her.
"Quite so, Ms. McGonagall...quite so." We arrive at our destination and I am glad to see that there are no more tears in her eyes.
"Thank you sir. But it is late, and I think I need to get to bed. I have an early start tomorrow," she says and turns to enter the common room.
"Ms. McGonagall," I say just before she enters the portrait.
"Yes?"
"I trust you will not forget your detention on Monday. Do not be late."
She smiles. "No professor, I will not forget," and with one last smile she turns to retire for the evening.
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I turn down the blankets on my four-poster bed and remove my spectacles from my face. My outer robes are cast off and I heave a well-earned yawn.
As I climb into bed, I find myself too tired to even think about what may or may not come tomorrow and it isn't long before I give up entirely and whisper, "Nox." And with that, the lights go out and I am on my merry way to wonderland...but wait, "Lumos." The lights return for a short moment; just long enough for me to reach over to the tin on my bedside table. I pull out those infamous little candies that I am so addicted to and pop it into my mouth.
I can't sleep without my sweets, you know...
AN: Well? I know it has been forever and a day since I have updated anything...I am terrible, and I won't even try to deny it. For me, personally, I love where this story is going, and it is just a joy for me to even write...I hope that you, too are enjoying it, and I always love hearing from you, the readers.