A/N
Rightio, this scene – again, will probably be a two-part thing – takes places in between the end of the fourth and the beginning of the fifth book. (I guess the title sort of gives away what might happen in this scene?) Hope this will be alright!
Chapter Eight: Portraits and – Oh My…is that-?
"I just do not believe their nerve! Why would you want to make up such a…story? Why would Potter-"
"-I believe that is the question that the sensible of our fellow witches and wizards will be asking each other."
"And the way they're treating Potter – it's as though he's some kind of attention-seeker! He's in my house; I should know him better than-"
"-Yes, but Rita Skeeter, it seems, has done quite a lot of damage with her articles during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
"And, oh Merlin, don't they realize that behaving in such an idiotic manner is only degrading Diggory and his memory? How do they think he died? Can they honestly believe that the maze killed him?"
"I am afraid that, until the Ministry and hence, the Prophet believe our little 'story', young Cedric Diggory's memory will continue to be insulted."
"Ohhh…if I could get my hands on Fudge – honestly, where did this come from? I would not have expected it from him. Yes, I knew he was incompetent for the post, but…to take it to this extent?"
"Cornelius was never one to trust in my word, so, really, it was to be expected."
"He did trust in you until he became the Minster! Trusted in your advice…and even afterwards. It's only-"
"-What has happened has happened, Minerva. There is nothing that can be done immediately to change that. Of course, we will be working on it; heaven knows we don't need the Ministry at our backs, along with Voldemort and his Death Eaters."
McGonagall looked ready to say something – no doubt to contradict him – but she seemed to think better of it, deciding, instead, to take a large sip of her hot tea that she had summoned to help calm herself.
"What did you wish to speak to me about, Albus?"
"Have a ginger newt?"
"No." There was a pause. "Thank you."
"I must say, Minerva, you needn't be afraid of a bit of sugar at your age. You are a perfectly healthy witch, and-"
"-Why am I here, Albus? You said you wished to speak to me about something."
"Yes, I did."
"…Well?"
She was given an affronted look.
"What if the thing I wanted to talk about was about you consuming a bit of sugar and-"
"-Albus, we don't have the time to be fooling around like this. Tell me; why did you wish to see me?"
"What do you think of asking Hagrid to summon up an army of Acromantulas and Hippogriffs, to protect the boundaries of the school?"
"I – what?!"
"Oh! And I am sure that I could manage to get my hands on a few dragons and sphinxes!"
"Are you out of your mind?!"
"Now Minerva, that wasn't a particularly nice thing to say, you know. It-"
"-I don't care – Merlin, look, I am not in the best of tempers today. So kindly tell me what it was that you wanted to talk to me about, or I am going to politely end this conversation and return to my quarters."
Blue eyes twinkled once more, immediately making the dark-haired woman wary.
"You, my dear, are no fun…" Dumbledore smiled serenely as she glared at him. "Would you like to accompany me on a…little journey?"
Minerva stared at him.
"Albus-"
"-It will be worth your while to see the place I insist on taking you to."
"We are in such a precarious situation and you want to go on a journey?"
"It's nothing much; just a short, quick – well, that depends on you, actually – to London."
"To London."
"Yes, to London."
"And why should I do that?"
"It would be…educational." His colleague raised her eyebrows at him, causing him to hastily right his wrong. "In the sense, things will be cleared up – hopefully, that is – and…well, that is all that I am going to be able to tell you at the moment."
McGonagall sighed.
"You," she said, all but hissing, "will be the death of me."
"Oh no, I won't," said the Headmaster, pleasantly. "Haven't you heard that Muggle saying? It was; 'curiosity killed the cat' I believe. And, as you must know, I am no cat."
He received a particularly dark glare for that.
"We are standing in the middle of a Muggle street, in our Wizarding robes no less. Albus, what are we doing here?"
"Hmm?" He sounded distracted. "What are we doing here? Well, we're standing in the middle of a Muggle street in our Wizarding robes, earning us somewhat strange looks from the woman peering through the window of No. 13, over there. Ah, here it is. Read this, please." The dark-haired woman took the piece of parchment from her colleague, slightly confused. "Out loud."
"…The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at No. 12 Grimmauld Place…" She paused. "The headquarters of –" Eyes narrowed. "Why did you fail to mention this in the office?" When Dumbledore smiled and opened his mouth to say something, she shook her head. "Wait, never mind, I don't want to know. That will be better for my mind at the moment."
"Ah, here we are. It certainly does take its time to appear, doesn't it?"
"Was that a part of the…protection that you put up around it? For you have put certain charms on the place, haven't you?"
"Yes and no to the first, and yes to the second. Half of the work was already done his parents."
"His parents?"
"Yes – I'll knock, don't worry about it. But do remember to knock lightly on the doors whenever you're here. There are rather…unpleasant things that reside inside; things which, er, we could do with not agitating…"
"What kind of-"
"-Dumbledore, Minerva!" commented a rather tired-looking brown haired man, as he opened the doors, stepping aside to let them enter.
"How are you today, Remus? Everything alright?" questioned Dumbledore, as the younger man close and lock the doors once more.
"I'm fine, thank you, and yes, everything is alright – well…as far as our Order work is concerned with, at the moment."
"But…?"
"Well, Si–"
McGonagall started when they heard a sudden crash from somewhere further down the corridor.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that! I –"
"BLOOD TRAITOR!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THIS HOUSE OF MY FATHERS? FILTHY SCUM!! YOUR MOTHER WAS JUST AS BAD!! DEFILING MY HOUSE IN SUCH A MANNER, AND IT'S NOT JUST YOU! THE-"
"-I'm really, really sorry. Really. Please, just-"
"-I DO NOT WANT HALF-BREEDS LIKE THAT WEREWOLF IN MY HOUSE!! AND NOR DO I WANT SONS WHO I WISH I NEVER GAVE BIRTH TO!"
Dumbledore and Remus both sighed together, before the three of them proceeded down the corridor. McGonagall noticed that the horrendous screaming got louder as they progressed.
"Good heavens," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the din, "what is that? It sounds awfully familiar too."
Dumbledore smiled.
"An old friend of yours, Minerva."
Remus choked – on what and for what, the Deputy Headmistress was not sure – at Dumbledore's words.
"An old friend? I was under the impression that she – no, not you, Minerva – didn't have any friends."
"Ah, that is quite true. But she and Minerva had a…what shall I say, 'special' relationship?" Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling brightly as they entered a dimly lit, wider corridor. The first thing that McGonagall saw was a pink-haired woman, standing in front of a…portrait.
It took her a moment to realize that it was the portrait that was making such a racket. She watched the pink-haired girl for a moment, impatiently, waiting to see what she did about this.
But she was too intent on apologizing to the portrait.
"Oh for the love of – can't you shut it up?" she yelled, over the portrait's screams, fighting against the urge to clap her hands over her ears. She was only slightly surprised when the yelling and apologizing stopped, as both the girl and the…portrait stared at her.
It took barely a moment for her to recognize the girl; Nymphadora Tonks, a Hufflepuff student.
It was the portrait that caught her attention; that made her eyes widen quickly. And, from the looks of things, it seemed as though the pale, dark-haired, saliva-dripping portrait recognized her.
"YOU!! HOW DARE YOU – WHO GAVE YOU – WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO STEP INTO THE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS?! FILTHY MUGGLE-LOVER!! BLOOD TRAITOR!!! CORRUPTER OF PUREBLOODS!! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE – GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT!!!"
Lupin and Tonks seemed startled at the venom in the portrait's voice as she screamed. Dumbledore, however, was merely smiling pleasantly ahead of him, as though he had expected and was used to this kind of thing.
"Excuse me, I will not leave this house unless my business here is done," said McGonagall, icily, as she recovered from her initial shock.
It's her house? "You cannot order me around, and even if you tried, there is not much you can do to me. You are dead, Walburga Black."
"YOU ARE IN MY HOUSE!! MY HOUSE! YOU WRETCHED WOMAN – YOU CORRUPTED MY FIRSTBORN, SHOWED HIM THE WAYS OF MUGGLE-LOVERS LIKE YOU AND THAT FOOLISH HEADMASTER OF YOURS! YOU RUINED IT ALL, MINERVA MCGONAGALL!"
"I ruined it all? I'd like to think that I helped save your 'firstborn' from the fate that most of the Black family seems to have met."
"SAVE? YOU TURNED HIM INTO A MURDERER! YOU CALL THAT SAVING-"
McGonagall's wand was out in a flash, pointed at the portrait.
"I did not help him become a murderer. I-"
"-HE IS NOTHING BUT A FILTHY MURDERER!! HE WAS SENT TO AZKABAN, WASN'T HE? FOR MURDERING HIS BEST FRIENDS?! A TRUE BLACK WOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT! A TRUE BLACK WOULDN'T HAVE MADE FRIENDS WITH HALF-BREEDS LIKE THE WEREWOLF, OR BLOOD TRAITORS LIKE HER!"
"Quite true, Walburga. A true Black would never have done anything like that, for a true Black would have been elbow-deep in the practice of the Dark Arts, and would be too busy behaving as though they have their head shoved up their posterior to take the time to befriend others."
Lupin and Tonks, both having been taught by the Transfiguration Professor, were gaping at her. Ears ringing, the brunet turned to the elderly wizard standing with them, about to suggest that they all stun the portrait, but the words died in his throat when he saw what the wizard was doing.
He was sorting through a packet of sweets with an expression of utmost concentration on his face.
Sensing his former student's eyes on him, he looked up and smiled.
"Best to let them get it out of their system, I think," he said, in a tone that one would use when one was imparting a few pearls of wisdom to the less-wise, before turning his attention back to the packet of sweets.
"WRETCHED WOMAN!! I SHOULD HAVE MADE SURE YOU MET YOUR DOOM DURING THAT DUEL-"
"-Did you honestly think that you could have defeated me, Walburga? Not in a million years!"
"THE POWER OF THE DARK-ARTS IS STRONG. I DON'T NEED TO BE ALIVE TO ENSURE THAT SOMETHING HAPPENS TO YO-"
"-Enough. Meeting you again was an unpleasant experience, Walburga, and is one that I would not like to repeat. Good day." With that, McGonagall calmly Stunned the portrait.
Lupin hurried forwards and drew the dark, moth eaten curtains over the portrait, shielding it from view.
Silence reigned in the hallway for a moment.
"I'm sorry, that was my fault. The slightest noise wakes her up, and I'm always so clumsy so-"
"-No, I am glad I was…able to deal with that woman," said McGonagall, giving the young woman a grim smile. "Nymphadora Tonks. It has been quite a few years since I saw you last."
"Tonks. Tonks," said the woman, shuddering, and causing her former Professor to smile, before she turned her attention the elderly wizard, her eyes flashing.
"Do tell," she said, too calmly, "why you failed to mention-"
"-I do believe you managed to put my mum in her proper place. Congratulations on that, Professor." The dark-haired woman froze as what the voice said registered in her head.
'My mum'…oh Merlin…
Seeing the somewhat apprehensive glance Lupin was sending her out of the corner of her eye, she forced herself to turn around.
The tall, dark-haired figure standing by the far wall raised a hand in a mock salute.
…Oh my…
A/N
Hehe, well, I enjoyed writing that last bit! The second part to this will be put up in a day, as I've got to try and finish a looooong essay which I have no idea how I'm going to approach. Ah well.
Hope you liked that first bit!
Till next time,
Siriusgirl1