Chapter 13: The Importance of the rules

Summary:

Minerva successfully teaches the first transfiguration class without casualties.

There is an altercation in the corridor.

Dumbledore's curiosity knows no bounds.

Susan Bones and her unpredictable desk partner.

Albus still have some learning to do.

Notes:

Apparently, in our infinite wisdom we forgot to add a disclaimer, silly us!

A disclaimer is a statement, document, or assertion that limits liability or disclaims responsibility or affiliation.
We don't claim anything to do with Harry Potter or the Addams' Family. We make no profit on this.
What is original is this idea and version of Hermione Addams that we have imagined up. BUT; ALL her actions are her own. We claim no responsibility for the destruction she may wrought on the world, muggle, wizard or other.
This is for entertainment purposes only.
Read at your own risk.

With that out of the way.

We're back baby! Happy All Hallows' Eve.

Is this a trick or treat? (Sorry this was supposed to be posted around Halloween… but SOMEONE didn't care about certain people's deadlines.) ( Alpha: It was me, I was the someone. ᶘ ᵒᴥᵒᶅ )

Sorry we've been gone for so long. But life and what not. First getting sick, then lazy and unmotivated, getting sick again, still uninspired, work, getting lost in other people's fanfictions, then the slow tediousness of writing. It's been a crazy few months. But here we are.

We LOVE and appreciate all the support we've been getting and all the new readers that just found us and binged read our story.

Keep the positive comments coming, please. It truly does motivate us.

So just an FYI we added some tags like TW (Trigger Warnings) And there will be a TW within the line that separates the paragraphs, before and after the scene if you want to skip it. The TW of this chapter is blood and allusions of torture.

Also we will be cross posting this onto , we wanted to reach out to some more readers out there. So don't be alarm when you see the name of the series there.

So now, on to the treat. Enjoy. (Again Halloween thing that sorta works still?)

TLDR: TW warning within paragraph separators. TW for blood and allusions of torture.

Happy reading, Darklings! ರರ

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Minerva finished writing the lesson on the board and cleaned her hands from the chalk dust that clung to her fingers. She barely registers as she leaps on the table, smoothly transitioning into her animagus form and sitting herself on the center of it. She had perfected this routine over the decades of teaching the art of transfiguration. Every year, on the first day of the first years, she would surprise them by calmly sitting on the desk as a cat and once they were all in their seats, quietly taking notes of what was written on the board, she would start the lecture by jumping and transform mid-air back into her human body to a class full of awed children that were not expecting for their professor to be there all along.

She observed the organised transfiguration classroom that she had painstakingly put together all those years ago when Albus became headmaster and she received his post as the transfiguration professor. She'd had the privilege of knowing the man before he defeated Grindelwald and became a hero. Certainly he could be cocky and stubborn, he was a Gryffindor after all. But she also knew his more analytical and ambitious side, using his grandfatherly looks to defuse and lull everyone around him into a sense of safety and trust in order to make people more pliant to his plans. That, of course, did not mean that he couldn't be a good man, but Minerva felt that sometimes his philosophy of 'For the Greater Good' got in the way of kindness for kindness's sake.

Despite all his flaws, Minerva respected Albus Dumbledore deeply and was willing to support him and be always by his side, even if it was only to reign him in in order to protect others and even himself from his schemes.

She would be forever thankful for the day he decided to be her master.

At the time, she was still reeling from the injury she got during the match against Slytherin that ended up costing Gryffindor the quidditch cup in her seventh year. Although her injury didn't stop her from playing in a casual match, it shattered her dreams of professionally playing quidditch. Albus had taken the opportunity to redirect her anger and self-loathing towards something more productive by offering her an apprenticeship. She had shown a lot of potential from the moment she started practising the art of transfiguration and Albus felt that her talent shouldn't be wasted.

Transfiguration was as easy as breathing for her. The living magic of the McGonagall Clan was particularly enamoured towards the subject and enjoyed altering the world around its children at a whim. However, learning how to balance the living magic and one's own magic was another beast altogether.

Old families were always in awe of the level of magic that those who belong to Clans could achieve, they desired to elevate their families into the status of a Clan, but they didn't have the first clue of what living magic could do to a person.

She had always been an angry impulsive child, the living magic of the McGonagall Clan only exacerbated her temper and she tended to lash out more often than not. Her accidental magic was stronger than what the typical magical child should have. With her mother abandoning her magic in favour of marrying her muggle father, Minerva didn't have the proper knowledge nor instruction on how to reign in her Clan's unruly living magic, especially since her mother refused to even acknowledge her own magic, causing many problems for herself and her daughter.

Her first contact with a proper member of the McGonagall Clan was two weeks into her first year, when a fellow classmate from Hufflepuff named Alastor Moody, pushed and prodded her nerves until she lost it and destroyed an entire classroom lashing out with her magic, taking Alastor's left eye in the process. Healer Angus McGonagall was contacted on that same afternoon, by whom, nobody knew. The only proof he had that he, in fact, had been contacted, was a letter that urged him to rush to the school with haste, for more than one life could be lost if he was to delay his arrival, with no signature beyond the crest of Hogwarts on it.

Angus was shocked to discover Minerva's existence. Her mother didn't have the decency of letting the Clan know that another McGonagall was brought into the world.

The man turned out to be a distant cousin of her mother, however he insisted on being called uncle. He was mortified to learn that her mother hadn't taught her anything about their Clan, or Clans in general. She still remember the look in his eyes when he told her that it was nothing short of a miracle that she was still alive with so much living magic running uncontrolled through her; it was a mixture of awe for her being able to withhold that amount of living magic and deep terror- that he didn't manage to completely conceal behind a calm smile- for what could happen if her temper were to be provoked.

To alleviate the almost unbearable amount of magic she possessed safely, Angus immediately rushed her to his home, where his family and his four siblings were waiting for them. The five adults coached her on how to coax the excess of magic out without hurting herself; it took three days of constant release of magic into the other adults until they were convinced her levels were on the safe side for her age. She slept for a whole week.

After finally getting into contact with members of her family that actually cared about her- her mother had distanced herself from her daughter after the child started to have episodes of accidental magic before dying when the girl was eight years old-, Minerva's temper calmed down and she was astonished on how easy it was to keep her cool and not explode at the slightless inconvenience. For the first time in her life, she could actually breathe without the constant pressure of magic that she didn't know was there, holding her back. She felt lighter than she had ever felt before.

Uncle Angus explained to her that when a family becomes a Clan, the living magic is born ingrained with the strongest emotions from its members of the time. The McGonagall Clan became a Clan during a time of war and heightened emotions, where the strongest prevailed and the weak perished, making belligerence the core of the living magic of the McGonagall Clan. Which meant that its members were often hotheaded and ready for a fight in a blink of an eye, more easily provoked than even the impetuous Scottish people.

Without the guidance of older members of the Clan, children were more often than not involved in violent scuffles escalated by their own explosive tempers forcing their living magic into trying to protect them and inevitably overwhelming them beyond their limits.

It was a sad reality that was typically not spoken about, that sometimes, children from Clans didn't survive to adulthood. If the child is not strong enough or if an adult doesn't regulate the child's living magic for them; sometimes even if there is an adult helping, they perish by the force of the living magic that is there to protect them, surpassing the limits of what their magical core can handle. Minerva was supposed to have two younger brothers, but due to their mother's neglect on regulating their living magic, the twins died before their third birthday.

The grandfather clock that stood against the wall on the right side of the room chimed, indicating that her class was ten minutes away from starting, bringing Minerva out of her ruminations back to the present. Her door unlocked and opened as scheduled so the students could come in as they were arriving for class. As no students were yet to arrive, Minerva turned her head towards the three chalkboards she had the lesson of the day written down, checking if everything was correct and that nothing was missing, her tail swishing lazily behind her.

"Good morning again, Professor."

If Minerva was in her human form she would have been able to play off being startled by Miss Addams in a more composed manner, by at the most, flinching and bringing her hand to her chest in order to try to calm down her rapidly beating heart. But she was in her animagus form. Like any good cat, she loudly yowled and jumped three feet in the air, landing on the floor, behind her desk. Her tail was all puffed out and an involuntary hiss left her throat.

"Apologies, it wasn't my intention to startle you."

Calming down a little, Minerva climbed back up onto the desk, wondering out loud-in frustrated chitters-where on earth had Miss Addams come from that she didn't hear child in front of her looked at her in slight confusion.

"I came from the door…? The door opened so I assumed I was allowed in."

Minerva blinked in surprise. Quickly looking down to check if she was still in her animagus form, assuring herself that she was indeed a cat when she saw her paws and grey fur.

"You can understand me."

It wasn't a question but a statement. Animals didn't tend to have the attributes necessary to mimic human speech patterns, cats certainly didn't, so it was a little odd to find a way to project what she wanted to say out loud in a feline body; in the end, it sounded a mix of chittering and soft meows. Miss Addams didn't seem fazed by her sounds even if they mortified Minerva.

"Yes, I can understand you perfectly."

Checking over her occlumency shields, the professor made sure that the young witch in front of her wasn't using legilimency to read her mind.

"How?"

The little witch furrowed her brow at her, as if she had just asked one of the most ridiculous questions in the world.

"I'm an Addams."

The response was said with such certainty that Minerva almost felt foolish for asking if it wasn't for the absurdity of the situation.

"I assume we are to write down the lesson on the chalkboards, correct?"

Speechless, the animagus just nodded her head, still looking incredulously at the first year in front of her.

"I see. Don't worry Professor, I don't plan on telling anyone about you being the cat."

Just like that, the Slytherin turned on her heels and picked the first seat on the left side of the classroom, choosing the outer seat on the double desks. The girl didn't have any writing materials but it didn't seem to phase her. Soon students started to flow in, as per usual in a Gryffindor-Slytherin class, when the first Gryffindors walked in, seeing what the side the only other student in class picked and realised said student was Slytherin, they promptly walked to the other side of the classroom.

The rivalry between the two Houses was not new, nor did it appear to have any change in sight. This behaviour had started long before Minerva's time as a student, became exacerbated with the rise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and seemed bound to never end.

The students were sorted into their Houses, their seniors would get to them the first night and pit the children against their rival House; sometimes even the new students brought their prejudice from home and influenced their own classmates. Unfortunately, nobody did anything to change the behaviour nor seemed inclined to try.

That was when one of her newest cubs entered the classroom. Neville Longbottom was a perfect mixture of his parents. Minerva could see his mother in his dark blue eyes and his dirty blond hair; Frank Longbottom was in the way he timidly shuffled down the corridor separating the Slytherins from the Gryffindors, looking for where to sit. She suspected that much like his father, Neville would remain shy just until he found good friends that allow him to be comfortable enough to gain confidence in himself.

Curiously, the boy didn't look very enthusiastically towards his Gryffindors classmates, in fact, she had the impression that a flash of irritation had passed over his expression, but it was so quick that she wondered if she imagined it. His expression changed completely when he spotted Hermione Addams sitting at the front of the class. Enthusiastically, he walked towards her and greeted her with an eager 'Good morning.' and, to Minerva's surprise, was quickly responded by the witch, if only, with a less enthusiastic reply. The boy grinned at her and showed her his Gryffindor tie then pointed to the Gryffindor crest on his robes with pride. Miss Addams stared at him while he stood there waiting for the girl to finish inspecting his uniform, giving him a nod of approval she offered him the seat by her side with a wave of her hand. A seat that, up to that point none of her housemates seemed to dare to think they were allowed to sit in. Neville sat on the chair so quickly it almost looked like he apparated to it.

Minerva knew she shouldn't be listening in on a private conversation. But curiosity killed the cat, and there was nothing more curious than two polar opposites sitting calmly together.

"How is Slytherin?" The boy asked while taking some parchment, quill and ink from his rucksack.

"I am surrounded by idiots." Responded the girl in a bored tone.

"Unfortunately, I understand you." He sighed.

"Now, that isn't very nice, Miss Addams." Blaise Zabini snickered from behind them both. He was accompanied by Millicent Bulstrode, both had quietly sat in the seats behind them; Mr. Zabini rested a black leather messenger bag on his desk which made Miss Addams arched an eyebrow towards the Slytherin. He simply smiles boyishly at her unimpressed look without any explanation on how he acquired the bag, which apparently was hers, since she took it without a word.

Soon though, he sits back on his chair, dutifully digging his writing materials to start taking notes. Miss Addams once again proving that she didn't dance to anyone's tune but her own, took out a black leather bound notebook and a glass pen for note taking from her messenger bag as opposed to the parchment and quills her classmates preferred.

Neville furrowed his brows at it.

"You really don't like quills, huh?" He asked, remembering that she used a fountain pen over a self inking quill on the train to Hogwarts as well.

"Eris doesn't like me using another bird's feathers. And she is too vain to give any of her own to be used as a quill, thus, pens." She answered distractedly whilst opening her notebook and starting to copy down the contents of the blackboards.

"Eris?"

"My familiar."

So the raven that delivered the heavy tome to Miss Addams was her familiar.

Minerva watched the children introduce themselves to each other since the raven-haired witch didn't show any inclination to introduce the three students that flocked around her the moment they saw where she was sitting, to each other. Soon they followed her example and started taking their notes in silence prompting the rest of the class to quietly settle down to copy the material.

Usually it would take a while until the students realise that the contents of the blackboards were to be written down, however this time, Miss Addams and her friend group's actions were more than enough to clue in the rest of their classmates on what they should be doing.

The professor eyed the lion cub sitting calmly surrounded by the snake hatchlings with little care for the glares he was receiving from the other Slytherin sitting on the seats behind them as he continued on taking notes in class. Suddenly, Miss Addams whirl around in her seat, glaring back at her housemates, who quickly looked anywhere but in the direction of the group.

Something like that had never happened, the children usually didn't have the bravery to cross the clearly marked division between houses. Minerva hoped that that was the beginning of a long lasting friendship.

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"C'mon, we gonna be late." He puffed whilst running down the corridors with Harry at his heels.

He wanted to impress Harry Potter with his knowledge of Hogwarts by taking shortcuts to their first class, however the shortcuts his brothers told him about only served to get him lost. He should know better than to trust Fred and George.

Although, truth be told, that wasn't the only reason they were late.

He had noticed it during the welcoming feast the previous night. Harry was afraid of eating. Not necessarily afraid of the food, but every time he took a bite of anything, he noticed that Harry would look around when reaching for more food. Ron thought that much like his siblings, Harry's family liked to steal his food, he lost count of how many times he was reaching for the last chicken thigh just to be swept from right under his hand by one of the twins or even Ginny. Ron learned quickly at home that you need to grab everything you wanted right away with both hands or there would be nothing left. Being part of a big family was hard to get what you need or even attention, especially when Bill or Charlie came to visit.

When Harry thought nobody was looking, he would stuff food into his pockets.

So Ron did his best to delay their departure from the Great Hall to give Harry all the time he needed to eat breakfast. Although it was a lot less food than Ron would have himself, he was glad that his new friend ate, beyond being shorter than himself, Harry seemed awfully thin. Much like the night before, Ron pretended not to notice Harry swiping some muffins into his pockets and made sure to get a couple more, just in case Harry was hungry and his muffins weren't enough for him. Even though he didn't really understand why they were being so secretive with food, he just shrugged it off, he would never turn his nose from more food.

However that extra time spent on breakfast took its toll, they were five minutes late to their first class. He had heard from his brothers how McGonagall was strict but fair, however she didn't appreciate when students were late without a good reason, and he doubted that waiting until the last minute at the Great Hall to eat breakfast would be an acceptable reason to be late.

Luckily, they finally found the classroom. The door was still open so that meant they were allowed inside. Once they both crossed the threshold Ron released a relieved sigh, McGonagall didn't even seem to be there yet.

"Thank Merlin." Ron told Harry while trying to catch his breath. "Can you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late?"

Minerva, still in her animagus form, felt like she had a powerful time-turner and took a trip to the distant past. Where James Potter would arrive late strutting through the classroom with his hair a complete mess and a cocky smirk stretched across his face with an equally cocky Sirius Black right after him. However this time, the Potter in question, who was an almost exact copy of his father except for the green eyes and his smaller stature had an unsure look upon his face, hiding behind a dishevelled Weasley instead of leading the way.

Minerva staved off the memories that brought her nostalgia to avoid feeling the regrets and sadness over what had become of the Potters and the Black heir who had defied his own family by becoming a Gryffindor and focused on the present Potter and his friend. They were late.

The tabby cat that was sitting on the Professor's desk suddenly leapt towards the two late students, transforming itself mid leap into the ever so strict Professor McGonagall. Harry and Ronald could not hide the surprised and yet awed expressions they had on their faces.

"That was bloody brilliant." Ron exclaimed, McGonagall couldn't help the small smirk that slipped through her stern expression.

"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley, a very generous remark. However, it would be more productive to use your observation skills to mind the time. Perhaps if I transfigure you or Mr. Potter into a pocket watch you might be here on time." She looked down on them sternly.

"We got lost." Harry tried to defend.

"A map then." McGonagall quickly amended it. "I believe you don't need one to find your seats. That will be 1 point from Gryffindor each. Now sit down."

"Yes, professor." They answered properly reprimanded.

They both took their seats at the front of the class, those being the last seats available for them, as McGonagall walked towards her own desk to start the lesson. Ron and Harry could see many Slytherin children smirking whilst their own housemates glared at them for losing points already.

Malfoy whispered something to those seated close to him, making the Slytherins snicker amongst themselves, making Ron's blood boil, just knowing it was about him. Glancing towards the Slytherin side of the classroom, he saw Longbottom, quietly taking notes, sitting by that Addams girl.

'That, that traitor!' He felt his face turn hot and he knew it was red. He had always easily turned red in the face when he was angry, and seeing Longbottom sitting on the Slytherin side of the classroom, especially after the argument they had on the previous night made him outright furious. Before he knew it he was standing again, glaring at Neville.

However he caught himself as his mouth opened to shout in righteous indignation, ready to let loose his fury upon his unsuspected housemate. Thankfully, rational thought caught up to him and he quickly sat back down. He had already lost points on his first day, and with McGonagall turning around to start the lesson, it would not be very smart of him to interrupt class again or to rant in front of a Professor.

Oblivious to the crisis averted, McGonagall began her lesson.

"Good morning class. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, master of transfiguration. Welcome to your first transfiguration class." She had the attention of every student now.

"As you've just witnessed, I am what is known as an animagus. Throughout the millennia legends about animagi have spread to all corners of the world. Animagi has been known by many names; Shape-shifter, SkinWalker, Nagual, Formwandler, Métamorphe, Changeling. Whatever it's called, it tells the same story. A bipedal creature that has the capacity of changing into an animal or more."

It was always a treat for Minerva to watch the awe induced ambition shine in the eyes of her students when she talked about animagi and what it was like to achieve one of the pinnacles of transfiguration. It was a pity that said ambition rarely survived first contact with the intricate and often convoluted paths of the art of transfiguration. Becoming an animagus was such a periculous process, even masters of the art have failed undertaking such a task. So she should be happy that those that had found themselves suddenly wishing to become an animagus usually gave up after learning a bit about all that it meant to master transfiguration.

It was always good to start with a warning in this case.

"This kind of magic is beyond difficult and should never be taken lightly. It requires years of study, dedication and an astronomical amount of luck in order to achieve it. There have been many cases of those who did not heed to warnings about attempting it without being prepared and ended up stuck forever as an animal or worse, as a half form amalgamation of human and creature."

That was enough to start killing the shine of interest from many eyes in her class, but it never fails to also light the fire of determination in many others. Until the end of the year the number would drop drastically if not completely. Although disappointing, Minerva rather have children lose the interest in becoming a transfiguration master if it meant no idiotioc and dangerous attempts on completing the transformation.

"Now, as most of you have finished writing down the contents of the blackboards, I would like to assess how many of you have read any of the books assigned for this year."

She could see the startled looks of panic that most of the students had adopted immediately. A look that screamed 'I was supposed to read the book before school started?' and although extremely funny, catching them off guard like that was a great way to instil good habits, like reading the book about the class before arriving at the class in question. It was something that most of the children there hadn't thought about doing. While the children of pureblood families have been educated at home by parents or tutors, and muggleborns were taught at muggle schools, half bloods usually were either homeschooled by their magical parent or taught like any other muggleborn. Either way, the majority of the students usually were used to having someone directing them on when to read the necessary reading material provided.

Minerva could always spot the few that had a confident look, where they were able to remain calm, assured that their mind wouldn't betray them, and unfortunately the majority of those few faces were not on the Gryffindor side of the class. Which was to be expected, Minerva supposed.

"So, who can tell me what transfiguration is?"

Many hands shot up in the air, jumping at the chance of answering an easy question. Miss Addams didn't join her fellow students but neither did many others. Picking Mister Finnigan amongst her Gryffindors who seemed eager to participate, he gave the simple answer that she was expecting.

"Transfiguration is turning one thing into another."

"Well done Mister Finnegan. You are correct, however I'm looking for a more…elaborated explanation."

She looked over her students who were frowning in concentration, thinking hard on what she had asked of them.

"Miss Addams? Any thoughts?" Minerva called the student who seemed to not really be paying attention nor really interested in what was happening. Miss Addams looked at her apathetically, clearly not caring for being called upon.

Noneless, she didn't disappoint.

"Transfiguration is the fine art of imposing your own will upon another's physical form, be that living entity or inanimate object, by altering its shape and appearance down to the molecular level to a more desired form."

"Well put, Miss Addams. Two points to Slytherin."

Ron gritted his teeth. Not only did Gryffindot lose two points, but Slytherin won two points. That was not fair.

"Now class, as Miss Addams so succinctly said, transfiguration is the art of altering the composition and form of something in lieu of becoming something else."

Minerva continued whilst she had the attention of everybody in the room. Some were taking notes but undoubtedly were paying attention.

"It may sound extremely complicated and challenging at the beginning, but at the end of the year each and every one of you will be able to transfigure a mouse into a snuff box."

Approaching the first blackboard, Minerva started to explain about the basic points one should pay attention before attempt transfiguration: the material that composed the object that one wish to transfigure, how brittle it is, how flexible it is, how viscous it is, the volume of it and if one's Will is higher than the object's Will to remain the same.

"It might seem exceedingly difficult to think about every point before attempting transfiguration but it won't take long until thinking about it becomes habit, and soon enough, habit turns into instinct."

As a demonstration, Minerva quickly transfigured the quill resting on her desk into a butterfly, from it to a hummingbird, to a guinea pig, to a solid small block of wood, to a hammer and then back into a quill. The ambition that had faded in the face of the almost unattainable came back at full force in the face of the achievable, once again determination shone in the eyes of the children.

"Transfiguration at first looks like an insurmountable mountain to climb. Much like any other journey, it begins with the first steps. Today we start laying down the groundwork that will guide you throughout the rest of your life. It starts small, like understanding the theory before attempting, like practising until you can confidently turn a matchstick into a needle."

Picking up a matchstick from her desk and turning it into a perfectly straight shiny sewing needle, Professor McGonagall could've heard the sound the needle would have made if it was allowed to fall onto the floor.

"As you grow, so will your magical core, thus it is your duty and responsibility to learn how to control it safely. Much like any other muscle, you must know how much force you need to exert in order to produce the desired results without exceeding limits. Today marks the day where you start the path to become the witch and wizard you want to become. So study well and do your best. The rest will come with time."

Minerva spent the next 45 minutes explaining the contents on the blackboards, the difference between transfiguring from natural materials like wood or plants vs transfiguring from mix materials like modern clothing; how important it was to visualise clearly what was wanted to be created down to the minute detail and the necessity of focusing, especially when they were just beginning to learn the basics.

After answering questions and recommending books about the basic concepts that could be found at the school's library, Professor McGonagall distributed a match for each student, letting them know that the last 20 minutes of class would be dedicated to put into practice what they were learning for the day. As tradition, the students' first experience in transfiguration would be a simple exercise, turning a matchstick into a needle. Easy, simple and to the point. It helped them to build some confidence, especially if they didn't succeed on the first try.

After demonstrating the wand movement and the incantation, she watched her students struggle, trying to figure out how to make the spell work as easily as she made it appear so.

Minerva kept most of her attention on Miss Addams, remembering very well how frustration could make living magic lash out dangerously. It was watching the witch so attentively that she noticed how Miss Addams' wand was just as peculiar as the owner. The completely black magical tool that at first glance looked like any long twisted, if a bit crooked wand, did something that she had never seen before, it glowed. Every time Miss Addams performed the spell, the veins in the wood would faintly light up in an eerie arctic blue. It didn't really shine much, in fact it was barely noticeable and if one wasn't paying attention to Miss Addams' wand while she was casting, it would seem like any other normal ebony wand out there. Minerva was almost certain that because of her own living magic, and the fact that she was a cat animagus that helped her perceive light in different ways than the normal human eyes did, she was able to see the shine coming from the girl's wand.

Although Miss Addams initially inspected the matchstick with a calculating look in her eyes. After she failed twice at first, an epiphany seemed to wash over her and a tiny smirk pulled itself in the corner of her mouth when the matchstick turned into a sharp common sewing needle. Before Minerva could move to congratulate the first student to turn their matchstick into a needle, the little witch waved her wand once again, speaking the incantation clearly but quietly, and thus began cycling through many types of needles, some the animagus had never seen nor heard of.

In comparison, Hermione's neighbour didn't look like he was doing very well. Mister Longbottom had his eyebrows drawn together in a frown as he struggled to make his wand to obey him. He looked at his notes again, compared with what was written on the blackboards, adjusted his posture and tried to say the incantation as clearly as he could but nothing seemed to work. The matchstick in front of him stubbornly remained unchanged. In his frustration, he waved his wand a little harder and finally his matchstick turned into an opaque grey, but that was the extension of what he could manage.

Meanwhile, Hermione had stopped changing her matchstick and let it rest as a J shaped suture needle to observe Neville's struggle. At some point, a scheming gleam shifted her demeanour making goosebumps run up Minerva's back. As if the hairs on the back of her feline form were standing up on end, trying to appear bigger as danger crept ever closer. Whatever that child could be plotting Minerva wasn't inclined to let it happen.

So, as a distraction she approached their table and congratulated the witch for not only managing to complete the transfiguration, but also proceed to perform the spell to mould the matchstick into multiple shapes. Granting five points for being the first to manage turning a matchstick into a needle.

Didn't take long until, one by one, the students started to get results in their endeavour with various degrees of success. From turning their matchstick silvery, though in a much better state then Mister Longbottom's, to a needle that was more like a pin since it lacked the needle's eye. Very few actually managed to turn their matchsticks into proper needles, amongst them was Miss Addams, Mister Zabini, Mister Malfoy, Mister Nott, Mister Thomas, Miss Patil and Miss Greengrass.

Mister Finnegan had somehow blown up his matchstick and burned through several before reaching a wooden needle-like transfiguration.

When class was dismissed, there were some displeased faces from those who couldn't complete the transfiguration and were issued the writing of essays about the spell for the next class and what they could do to improve their casting. Minerva was relieved, there were no incidents beyond two late students and the little explosion. Other than the scare Miss Addams accidentally gave her at the beginning of class, it looked like she was finally going to have a quiet year.

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Neville followed Addams out of the classroom dejectedly, he couldn't believe he could barely turn his matchstick grey whilst his friend managed to not only turn her matchstick into one needle but turn that needle into others. The witch in question had her face buried into a tiny, palm sized maroon book, with the title pressed in gold on the cover. The lighting made it impossible to decipher what it was written. Hermione seemed to be able to walk without needing to look to where she was going and somehow not bump into anyone or anything. Her steps were as sure as if she was actually seeing where she was going, not that it stopped Zabini from trying to herd her away from 'danger' as they all walked in the direction of the Great Hall. Zabini and Bulstrode, much like him, were accompanying Hermione.

"What are you reading?" He walked up to Hermione's side.

"The rules." She answered without taking her eyes from the book.

'The rules?' He wondered to himself. Leaning down he peeked at the cover of the book and, sure enough, it was the student handbook of rules of Hogwarts that every first year received alongside their acceptance letter and list of materials to buy. He was about to ask why on earth she would be reading the rules as thoroughly as she seemed to, but before he could make his confusion known beyond his expressions a familiar voice echoed throughout the castle's stone halls.

"YOU TRAITOR." Ron Weasley's strident voice rang through the hallway, attracting attention towards the boy with a face as red as his own hair, marching furiously in Neville's direction.

The crowd quickly opened up to let the boy through, eager to see a fight after literally the first class of the school year. Those who had not moved as readily out of the way as the rest of their peers were pushed aside as Ron used his shoulders and elbows to open space for himself, making books clatter on the floor as their owners lost grasp of them in the commotion.

Neville couldn't say he was really surprised that all that rage was directed at him, especially since their fight in the dormitory on the previous night. However he was confused over what would be the reason for the redhead to be so angry to the point of being huffing and puffing as if he had run a marathon to reach him. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when Weasley stopped right in front of him, so close that he could feel his hot breath against his face.

"HOW DARE YOU BETRAYED GRYFFINDOR LIKE THAT!" Ron screamed right in front of his face, spittle flying from his mouth in his fury and Neville couldn't step back quick enough to create some sort of distance and avoid the flying saliva.

"W-What are you talking about?" Neville frowned in confusion, he didn't remember doing anything that would constitute betrayal, especially towards the House he craved to belong for so long.

"YOU! Sitting with those snakes. Sitting with HER!" Ron's finger pointing accusingly behind Neville, directing at Addams' direction who still had her nose buried in her book, thoroughly ignoring the scene the redhead was making, seemingly completely disinterested in the drama. Meanwhile Millicent watched with wide eyes as Zabini apparently took offence for Hermione as the witch didn't seem keen to do so.

"But. But I-" He tried to find words to placate his housemate, stuttering through an explanation for something he wasn't sure why was a problem but he wasn't willing to get into a fight this early in the day.

A calm voice cut through the murmur of voices that was running throughout the crowd of first years that was watching, calming Neville down from his nervous stuttering.

"Professor McGonagall did not express any displeasure about him sitting next to me." Hermione commented offhandedly whilst flipping to the next page in her book.

"It's our first day. She was being nice. I bet that next class she'll have him sitting on Gryffindor's side. The right side!"

"And why would she do that?"

Ron gritted his teeth and had his hands in tight fists, 'Who does she think she is?'. The cheek of this girl, asking him why of something so obvious that everybody knew, it was like questioning why brooms could fly, they just did.

"IT'S THE RULES!"

"Oh? Is it now?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "...and where in the rules says that?"

Ron is taken aback with that, fumbling with his response.

"I-It's right there, in the rulebook…You know what, it doesn't matter where it is, it's the rules, everybody knows that!"

Ron quickly looked around at the crowd, looking for support. Finding it amongst classmates nodding and agreeing with him under their breath. With a smug look on his face, he crosses his arms across his chest and smiles victoriously at the witch, feeling like he finally got one up over the Addams girl. But his smile slipped off his face with her next words.

"No, it isn't."

"What isn't?" He frowns at her in confusion.

"Your rule. It is not anywhere in the rulebook."

He lets his arms fall to his sides as he tightens his fists in anger. What was this girl talking about, he knew he was right, the rules were obvious. "YES IT IS."

"No, it is not."

Finally lifting her eyes from the book, Hermione pierced him with a cold stare which made Ron, who was about to yell at her, shut his mouth with a click. She moved from between Millicent and Blaise to stand by Neville's side, thrusting her open book against the redhead's chest, making him step beck hastily whilst fumbling with book in the attempt to not let it fall on the ground and not lose the page where it was open. When he managed to hold the book properly, Harry, who had been silent and forgotten throughout the whole kerfuffle, looked over Ron's shoulder, finding it open on the page about the seating arrangement rules.

It was a small concise paragraph.

ABOUT SEATING ARRANGEMENTS:

In the effort to create harmony amongst the student body, it has been decided that the seating arrangements fall at the discretion of the students themselves. Primarily, Professors have the authority of assigning specific seats for their classes if they so desire, however it is encouraged to let the students choose their own desk partners even if they belong to different Houses, as long as they don't disrupt the class. Birds of a feather don't always have to flock together after all. On that note, apart from formal events like the welcome banquet and the end of the year banquet, it is permitted and encouraged for students to sit amongst friends in the Great Hall even when they are not sorted into the same House.

"There are no rules dictating that one must sit with one's own House, in fact, it is encouraged to mix with other Houses." Hermione's voice snapped them from the book.

Immediately his face turned red in anger and embarrassment. Ron tossed the book on the ground with all his rage, the book hitting the floor with the corner of its spine and bouncing away towards Hermione's feet.

"It doesn't matter what that stupid book says. It is a rule. Has been a rule for" He gestured wildly with his hands. "…forever! You'll see! Mcgonagall may have let you get away with this. But I bet the others won't!"

Fuming, Ron rushed past them, pushing Neville out of the way with his shoulder, almost bringing the boy to the ground, trying to ignore most of the crowd hastily pulling out their own handbooks to check. Harry gave Hermione and Neville an apologetic look and hurried after his friend. Blaise narrowed his eyes in disapproval at the back of the redhead and the boy trailing after, before picking up the book. Unfortunately, the spine was damaged thanks to the brutal way it was thrown on the floor.

When Zabini fished his own book from his satchel to give to Hermione in exchange for the damaged book, the girl rolled her eyes and took the damaged book from his hands, resuming her sightless walk and reading. The boy sulked and went after her, complaining that it was his job to make sure her things weren't falling apart. Bulstrode couldn't help but let out a giggle at the pair's antics as she went after them both with Neville, shaking his head in exasperation, following by her side.

~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~

Dumbledore was walking in the direction of the Great Hall. After he was forced to skip breakfast because of an emergency meeting in the Wizengamot that, as usual, ended up going nowhere, he ought to show his face to the students.

Powering through his headache of the previous night, Albus looked into Miss Addams records and discovered that she belonged to a Clan. He couldn't find any information on them, let alone how old the Clan was, but that didn't really disappoint him, in fact, he expected that, it wasn't as if Clans would go around telling their secrets to whoever would listen. He didn't even know how old the Clan Minerva belonged to was, and he knew her practically all her life. Clans were secretive like that, only very few selected ones were privy to information and then sworn into absolute secrecy with unfathomable consequences if trust was broken. Or perhaps he was overthinking it, no matter how secretive a Clan was, it was impossible for him to find so little about it, which could indicate that the Addams Clan was a very young Clan, possibly even brand new. One thing was clear though, Miss Addams was more dangerous than what her outward appearance led to believe and he should treat her with caution.

It was as if he had just taken a whole vial of Felix Felicis, when he turned the corner he came across Madam Pomfrey intercepting Severus on his way out of the infirmary, probably delivering last minute potions that the students would undoubtedly use until the end of the semester.

"Professor Snape, one moment, please!"

Severus stopped mid step and turned back to look at one of the few people that genuinely cared for his well being whilst he was growing up. He held nothing but pure respect for her.

"Yes?" He drawled.

"Just wanted to let you know we will need to reschedule one of your first year's appointments this week."

The potions master raised one of his eyebrows in curiosity.

"And which one would that be?"

"Miss Hermione Addams."

"May I know the reason?" He obviously wouldn't argue with the matron, but he would like to know if there was a problem, as not even a full 24 hours had passed since the beginning of the school year began and Miss Addams had already brought along with her chaos and difficulty.

"She came to see me this morning before classes began. As you may already know, Miss Addams belongs to a Clan and she brought with her some medical documents about herself. As the medwitch responsible for her health whilst she resides at the castle, she lent them to me and I'd like to study them first before examining her."

Maybe he did ingest Felix Felicis after all, as the two Hogwarts' staff were yet to notice him. Even in his usual garish robes. His eyes twinkle with a victorious gleam when the opportunity to learn about the Addams Clan presented itself on a silver platter. As a master legilimens, he has been in and out of people's minds with them none the wiser for a long time- the pounding in his head making him refuse to think otherwise-, he wasted no time and dove into Pomfrey's mind, after all, information was the clearest when it was recently acquired and the person was actively thinking about it.

Something was wrong, wrong, WRONG.

Where Pomfrey's mind used to be like a spacious medical office, with information written on bandages that were rolled up like scrolls upon scrolls of parchment, all filled and neatly organised by year and alphabetical order in medical filing cabinets; now it was like a black hole. Albus felt the absolute oppressive darkness and its weight pulling him and his mind towards itself, taunting him to be curious, as if eager for him to get closer, as if wanting to consume him.

He had never experienced as much difficulty to pull himself out of someone's mind as he did with the medwitch's mind. When he finally managed to safely return back behind the security of his own occlumency walls he was dizzy and nauseous, and even worse, he was feeling as if something was missing. He stumbled and had to hold onto the stone wall to be able to remain upright. The cold of the stonewall under his palm helped him slightly orient himself as the world was spinning around him, this had to be the worst case of vertigo he had ever experienced. Not even his first time apparating had left him as green.

Poppy felt the ring on her hand warm up and suddenly become cold in the span of two seconds. She turned her head in order to examine the ring when, from the corner of her eye, she noticed baby blue robes that turned out to be the Headmaster, supporting himself against the wall, barely able to stand, his eyes looked sunken in and unfocused; his whole countenance was awfully paled and clammy.

"Albus!" She exclaimed, rushing to help him. Severus rushed alongside her and was suddenly on the other side of the old wizard, supporting his weight all by himself and freeing Pomfrey to open the infirmary door. Which Severus thought a little odd, since usually Hogwarts would open its doors for Poppy to pass unimpeded, but he brushed it off since Dumbledore was quickly losing the strength necessary to walk.

Together, they laid the Headmaster on a bed for him to rest, it seemed like the stress of his responsibilities had caught up to him and he fainted shortly after being put to bed. Poppy assured Snape that Albus wouldn't be out of the infirmary without her approval, even if she had to stun the man to make him stay.

"Very well, I'll let Minerva know that he is indisposed." Severus nodded and left to have lunch in the Great Hall and warn Professor McGonagall of the sudden illness that took Dumbledore to bed.

~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~

In the library of a certain kooky family who lived on the other side of the ocean at 0001 Cemetery Lane, Westerfield, New Jersey, a thin book materialised.

It didn't look like any other book on the shelf it appeared on, it was garish, the cover was bright baby blue as if alerting anyone perusing the shelf that it was the most important book with the best stories. All the rest had a variety of different colours but the majority was duller.

On the spine of each book there was a name engraved, and on the spine of the newest addition to the library it said, in bright gold letters "The life and lies of Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore".

~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~

Susan Bones eyed the witch sitting by her side with suspicion.

She knew from her aunt that Slytherins weren't the pretty flowers they portrayed themselves as. They were more like sharp and uninviting thorns. The push and snickering from this morning as they crossed paths with the snakes showed her how her next seven years at school would go.

At least, it was what she thought would be her seven years.

Addams' polite apology to Justin Finch-Fletchley and the promise to "rein in her housemates' behaviour" confused her. Susan kept an eye on the witch during breakfast. It was disconcerting how Slytherin seemed to work. The other first years seemed to defer to Addams, like they were her subordinates, even those that didn't seem very happy with looking to her for approval, would quietly accede to the apparent status quo. Then, suddenly, a big intimidating owl landed heavily in front of Malfoy, which startled the boy and made him freeze. The bird rose to its full height, only to moments later cower pitifully in front of Addams. Then a raven, of all things, appeared to deliver her a big tome that she held close to her chest and soon scurried away with. The girl was just strange, from the really formal way she talked, to the way she sat, always maintaining proper posture. Even her weirdly dressed elf. She was just weird.

During lunch, different from the other Slytherins, she didn't seem very keen to outdo the others, nor tried to control the conversation. She just ate quietly whilst listening to the others talk around her, occasionally nodding or answering in short sentences, when the boy or the girl that she was with that morning asked her something. But mostly, during lunch she was reading from a little maroon book that Susan suspected to be the student's handbook of rules.

She was not expecting for her next class to be Charms with the Slytherins.

Professor Flitwick was a small, cheerful man, he was dressed sharply in a nice fitting dark blue suit with shining silver buttons; his hair was cut short and combed neatly, parted down the middle. He had small circular silver rimmed glasses that hung over his slightly upturned nose; he also had a walrus moustache, combed and trimmed just as neatly as his hair. Although his stature was small, Professor Flitwick had a presence that made people want to sit up straight and pay attention, his obvious love and fascination for magic and its infinite possibilities exuded from him and all that enthusiasm made him bigger than life.

He warmly greeted his students and explained that in his class he preferred for the students to not huddle with their housemates, and he personally drew a raffle to determine who would be desk partners, one Hufflepuff and one Slytherin.

So that's how she ended up with Hermione Addams as her desk partner for the rest of the semester. Finch-Fletchley ended up with Zabini as his partner. Susan suspected that the Slytherin boy didn't know that Justin was muggleborn because he simply grabbed him by the wrist and rushed him to sit at the desk behind where Susan and Addams had settled.

At first, Susan was waiting for Addams to sneer at her when she accidentally elbowed her arm when turning to get some parchment from her bag to take notes, much like Malfoy did to the Hufflepuff that sat by his side, who had the audacity of existing in his presence. But to her surprise, Hermione just nodded, accepting her apology without any drama.

Throughout the whole class, Addams sat quietly, all prim and proper, in her seat taking detailed notes of the intricacies and differences between charms and curses that Professor Flitwick was teaching. She drew a perfect rendition of the anatomy of how magic runs through the human body just like it was represented on the blackboard behind their Professor. From where the magical core is located to the magic channels that run both inside the blood veins and parallel to them. Hermione used beautifully made glass pens that held different colours of ink for that anatomy diagram, using black for the general shape of the body and organs, red for the blood running through the veins and innards, and blue for the magical core and magical channels. For lack of a better word, it was like art, absolutely beautiful.

Susan didn't want to even look at her measly attempt at copying the anatomy of a magical person.

When it was nearing the end of the class, they were officially taught their very first spell.

"Now children, as I mentioned before, charms are a fundamental part of a wand wielder. Charms are a compendium of a wide range of different spells with which one gives a target, be it object or living being, new and unforeseen properties and/or makes the target perform different actions, amongst other effects." Explained Professor Flitwick, atop his pile of books that he used to reach the rather tall podium, designed for a bigger person, that he stubbornly refused to transfigure into a more size appropriated version.

"For example." He smiled mischievously before swinging his wand in a wide arch to the right, and all the books not in use started to levitate, another wide movement, this time bring his right hand back towards him and downwards just to immediately flicking upwards, made said books create cartoonish arms and legs and start waltzing with each other.

Many of the children giggled at the display and Professor Flitwick bowed when the students applauded him for the magical display.

"However, before one learns how to make furniture dance the hula." With a decisive motion, everything went back to its place. "...one must learn the basics. So today we'll learn the most basic charm there is." He raised his wand near his face. "Lumos." The tip of his wand lit up and he smiled jovially at the enthusiasm his theatricality had caused. It never ceases to delight him to watch the awe and wonder on the faces of the children when learning their first steps in magic by their own. It always lit up their little faces brighter than any Lumos ever could when they were able to produce their first bit of intentional magic. It was the main reason he wanted to teach.

After explaining the theory behind the spell and how to end the spell with Nox, Filius allowed the students to fish their wands from their robes and use the last ten minutes to practise the Lumos charm.

Susan took the opportunity to sit sideways so she could talk with Justin. The two Slytherins, who were their desk partners, wasted no time and without any difficulty lit up the tip of their wands on the first try. To her surprise, after they exchanged some words, their Lumos changed colour, which delighted Professor Flitwick immensely who didn't expect for his students to figure it out so soon how to change the colour of their spell. Addams and Zabini were awarded five points each.

Meanwhile, although Susan was able to light up her wand, Justin was struggling. She did her best to coach him through her process, but apparently her strengths did not lie in teaching since telling him to will his magic to do what he wanted served to only confuse him further. When she was about to throw the towel and ask their professor, her desk partner spoke up.

"Do you require assistance?"

Both Susan and Justin turned their heads to look at the girl that they had forgotten was sitting next to her, she had an indifferent air about her despite the question that mirrored the one from the morning about him needing help getting up, as if the answer didn't really matter to her.

"W-what?" Justin stuttered. He was confused, on the previous night he was warned about how Hufflepuffs were treated and, mainly, how muggleborns were treated. Slytherin, especially, were more often than not on the other end of the abuse thrown at the badgers. The word 'mudblood', that he was told was used for muggleborns as a slur, twisted his stomach in dread and left a bitter taste in his mouth, leaving him with an anxiety induced nausea that he couldn't get rid of.

He was ashamed that he couldn't perform the apparent easiest spell, and he had tried his best to understand what Susan tried to explain to him, but no matter how much he tried he couldn't wrap his head around simply willing his magic to do anything. All the magic he had performed up until now was in moments of heightened emotions, which was few and far between for him, and so he wasn't aware of how to make his magic work when he wanted.

Then, there were the Slytherins sitting by Susan and him. Of course he understood what Professor Flitwick was trying to do by mixing them all like that, it was something used within his muggle school, but it didn't mean it was something that should be done, not with the Slytherins at least. Not with all the animosity that surrounded that house.

"I asked if you require assistance."

Addams' voice cut him into his silent freak out but it didn't help clear his confusion. He glanced at her green and silver tie and looked at Susan in a silent plea for help, it was rule number one after all, that Puffs stick together and help each other, but Susan seemed to be just as dumbfounded as he was.

"I…I'm a bit confused." He confessed.

Hermione just nodded as if he was confirming something she already knew.

"Which part is confusing you?"

She grabbed her notebook and started to leaf back the pages, probably trying to find where he lost himself but all he could think about was.

"Why are you trying to help me?" He stared at her wide-eyed, not quite believing he just went and asked it just like that.

"Because you are struggling…are you not?" The witch frowned at him in confusion.

"But…I'm a muggleborn." There, he did it, now she would sneer at him and look at him with disdain and he wouldn't have to suffer from the anxiety of when she would find out. Susan squared her shoulders and prepared herself to defend her housemate.

"And what does that have to do with me helping you?" She deadpans at him.

He blinked in confusion. All the other Hufflepuffs warned him about Slytherin' bullying, about how cruel all of them were, first years included, no exceptions, they all looked down at the muggleborns as if they were something unpleasant that they've stepped in. If that was the truth… Why wasn't Addams being mean to him?

"Don't you think that I'm not supposed to be at Hogwarts?"

"Do you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

When he didn't know what to say she just continued.

"You are here, are you not? That means you are a wizard, do you want help or not?"

Taken aback by her frankness, he gave her a stuttered yes and she proceeded to show her anatomy drawing and explained how the magic circulated around his body. After asking him if he had ever done magic on purpose and not only accidentally- receiving a negative answer-, she slowed the lesson down, letting him take his time to understand and explained to him how to find his magic. When he was just as confused with her explanation as he was with Susan's, she told him to close his eyes. He eyed both Slytherins with suspicion but trusted that Susan would defend him if they were up to no good. She guided him in a kind of meditation, instructing him to relax his jaw and shoulders, taking deep breaths until he was somewhat more relaxed than he ever planned to be around Slytherins.

Addams' voice was like the steady flow of a slow river, washing over him and bringing him to a trance-like state that he had never been in before. She told him to imagine himself drinking a cup of tea, to feel like the heat of the drink warming up his mouth, then his throat as he swallowed it and making its way to his stomach through his oesophagus. Directing him to picture the warmth spreading through his body from his stomach and chest to his limbs; to the sole of his feet, to the tip of his fingers. Justin was a smart boy, it didn't take long for him to realise that the warmth that he was actually feeling was his magic. He didn't let the realisation break his concentration but he was ecstatic with the discovery of his magical core.

After establishing that he was comfortable and well aware of the magic coursing through him, she instructed him to imagine his bedroom, to feel how soft his bed was, how it smell like; then he had to imagine that the power had run out and he was left in the dark, but he still had his wand and he was the only one in his house that was able to light it up to show the way. All he had to do was to guide the warmth within him through his wand.

With his eyes closed and rhythmic breathing, his hands that were previously clenching tightly around his wand relaxed, and just like tea warming up his body, he felt the warmth start moving from his chest and travelling through his arm to his wand and he whispered, almost afraid to break his concentration.

"Lumos."

The tip of his wand began to glow…and glow…and glow, to the point that he could see the intense glow through his closed eyelids. Brighter and brighter with every breath he took and warmth he fed to his wand, the light was so bright that everyone had to shield their eyes from the spell.

Professor Flitwick could be heard laughing in pure delight and clapping his hands.

"YES!" He exclaimed excitedly. "Atta boy, 10 points to Hufflepuff!"

After 'Nox'ing his light, Justin smiled brightly and thanked Hermione which she nodded and after congratulating him she then turned around to start putting her things away as it was the end of the class. She did so nonchalantly as if what she had just done was nothing more but day to day occurrence. Zabini had a self satisfying smirk, as if he had just proven something that everybody doubted about it, his chest once again seemed to puff up with pride and assurance even if he did nothing more than just watch. Meanwhile Susan looked over the girl that had just shattered everything that she had thought she knew about Slytherins, she even learned a thing or two about channelling magic with the witch's explanation. And although she wasn't really certain if she could really trust Addams, one thing was clear.

Hermione Addams was for certain an interesting character. One which she would need to keep her eyes on.

~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~TW~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~

It didn't happen suddenly like how many imagine it did. The return to consciousness was a slow fuzzy process.

Dumbledore's hearing came back first. He heard someone walking around in the distance, at least it sounded like in the distance, that was until the ringing in his ears- that he hadn't noticed before- stopped and he realised that it wasn't as distant as he previously thought since he promptly felt someone touching his forehead with the back of their hand and fluffing his pillow before adjusting the blanket covering him and walking away.

His eyes slowly fluttered open, he noticed the shadows on the ceiling casted by the low lit candles and was a bit confused before realising it was already night. He wondered when he had gone to bed since it was not his usual practice to take a nap in the middle of the day. Turning his head slightly towards the right he saw Madam Pomfrey walking towards the infirmary doors that open themselves for her silently and just as silently closed softly after she left. He looked back up at the ceiling, thinking about how unfair it was that Hogwarts so easily opened its doors for Poppy when it never opened for him.

He raised his right hand and looked at the ring on the middle finger of his hand; the band was thick entirely made of gold and had a purple gem hugged in the center that had the crest of Hogwarts inside, it was a unique piece and the only one to exist, passed from Headmaster to Headmaster, it allowed the user access to the wards. He closed his hand in a fist and gritted his teeth. He was the Headmaster and he had to use his own magic to make the doors open for himself, the castle simply refused to listen to him beyond what he could manipulate with the ring.

Why was it that Poppy had more privilege than him? He wasn't even privy to the students medical records; as the Headmasters he should be allowed to whatever he wished for the well being of the students under him.

He blinked.

What was it? A memory tickled his brain and he could almost remember, it was something about medical records of a student. Poppy was delaying someone's examination because she received medical records. Who was it?

He was sure he heard who it was. Backtracking his memories to what he was thinking as he went down the corridor in the direction of the infirmary he remembered. Hermione Addams, that's who Poppy was talking about with Severus. He didn't really remember what happened next but that was something he could worry about later, he had to find Hermione Addams medical records she brought to Poppy before the matron came back from the annual beginning of the year Slytherins' checkup. Not that he would ever understand why they needed it in the first place. But Severus was insistent so he didn't say anything. Admittedly it amused him knowing how uncomfortable the little snakes would feel being so exposed.

Sitting up was a bigger challenge that he was expecting. Once he managed to sit up without feeling like was going to vomit, he had to deal with the dizziness. His head was pounding against his skull, way more than the previous night, the migraine behind his eyes pulsed in time with his heart making him wish he hadn't woken up when he did. Nevertheless he forced himself to stand up and after a couple of minutes of taking deep breaths whilst holding on to the bed he was able to walk without assistance.

As if on cue, the door to Poppy's office whined as it slowly opened and the torches inside lit up. Was Hogwarts finally aiding him after all? He wasn't about to look into a gift horse's mouth, not when it came to the castle. The magic that was part of the castle was a fickle thing, peculiar in its wishes and nonsensical at best; downright chaotic at its worst. Deciding to aid or hinder at its own whims. Dumbledore was not dumb, he knew the castle was very much alive, the how was something he didn't know, one of the many magics lost to time, and he learned very early to not try to trick the castle to do anything it didn't want to do.

He walked as quickly as he was able into the matron's office and closed the door silently, he hoped it would be a quick in-and-out situation. Alas, luck was on his side and a big black tome was sitting in the middle of Poppy Pomfrey's desk, and when he approached it, he could see the elegant design of the Addams' crest.

When Albus started pulling the book in his direction, the book simply didn't move, no matter how strongly he pulled. Taking his wand out and trying to unstick it with magic resulted in the wand refusing to cast any kind of magic, even a simple Accio on the book didn't work.

He was forced to walk around and push Poppy's chair to the side so he could stand in front of the book. To be meticulous, he made sure to check all the other documents on the table, making sure that nothing else on the Addams were written anywhere. Satisfied- and perhaps a little frustrated- that there was no other piece of information on the Clan. He finally turned his attention to the book, only then realising the latches on the sides of the book that lock it shut.

It wasn't that he had never seen a book that locked itself like that, there were many like that at the restricted section in the library, it was just that the latches looked like it didn't really have enough grasp on the book to keep it shut. He presume that that was the reason why it had seven latches, two on each extremity and three on the opposite side of the spine.

Since the book refused to be moved, Albus presumed that he could read it then and there, look and memorise what he could before Poppy came back and he could use his pensieve later to review whatever he might have missed.

He used his right thumb to try to force the middle latch on the outer edge of the book to release. His finger getting pricked startled him and he immediately pulled his hand back as a drop of blood dropped on top of the cover. Albus looked confusedly at the book that was finishing absorbing the little droplet of blood that had fallen from his injured finger.

After a couple of seconds the book seemed to disagree with his person because suddenly the little injury on his thumb opened and a cut beginning from the tip of his thumb tore open through his palmar to his palm, coiling around his hand and climbing around his wrist and arm like a viper and stopping at the middle of his upper arm. It happened so fast that he didn't have time to feel the pain…then it hit him all at once.

His blood splattered all over the book and the desk as he grabbed his right arm whilst letting out a loud keening sound. His sleeve was intact but his arm was in stripes, it was quite a gruesome sight. He thought it couldn't get worse. How wrong he was.

It was as if someone had Lingchi* his arm, it felt like a raw and exposed nerve, like someone had Crucio him but only on his arm. That's when the nausea hit him at its strongest, forcing him to decide between hugging his bleeding arm to himself and covering his mouth so he didn't puke all over the matron's desk.

Soon his legs gave out and he was forced to use both arms to not crack his knees on the floor. Of course, that jostled his brand new injury and he saw white, the pain so intense that he couldn't even hear his own voice, almost screaming his pain. Nor did he notice the blood dripping from his mouth since he had bitten his tongue in the effort of not screaming.

He raised his left uninjured hand and was able to call for Fawkes when the need to vomit had slightly calmed down.

The phoenix arrived into the office in a glorious ball of fire, grabbed Albus' left forearm and much like how he entered, he warped away in a ball of fire, this time taking the Headmaster with him.

On the desk, the book that had refused to be moved, started to absorb all the blood from its soft buttery leather cover and the rest of the table, making it disappear as if it was never there to begin with. Then, a stillness settled in the enclosed office before the blood that had fallen to the floor began to rise and in a swirl of red liquid, it was vortexed into the book. In less than two minutes, all that was on the desk and its surroundings were clean of any blood. The parchments that were disturbed with the Headmaster's flailing, hovered up from the ground to organise themselves like they were previously. Poppy's chair went back to its original position.

As for the book, the crest on the center of its cover shone brightly in a distinct arctic blue in self-satisfaction, like the cat that got the canary.

¹Lingchi usually translated "slow slicing" or "death by a thousand cuts", was a form of torture and execution used in China from around the 10th century until early 20th century.

Notes:

Today Dumbledore learned that this time, curiosity did kill the cat lol

Hope you had fun my Darklings, I missed you.

Initially this chapter would be a lot longer than it is, BUT, writer's block sucks and we don't like it, boo writer's block.

Alas, thank you for not giving up on us, I look forward to the next chapter and I hope you will as well, spoiler alert it includes brooms ( ͡ ͜ʖ ͡)

See you next time~