Post by aptasi on Jul 31, 2008 15:16:58 GMT -5
Summary: I have a great care for my master and his love, though they know so little. ADMM.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Harry Potter. This story is written merely for recreational purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. This is an ADMM story. If you do not like the pairing, do not bother with it. Also, parts of this are somewhat cliché. Ye be warned
Always Watching
I doubt very much that they know who I am. Perhaps, though, someone would like to guess. Students know me very well. They see me every day. I have never spoken before. No? I am benevolent, yet sometimes frustratingly uncooperative. I am, as far as any can tell, a silent observer. Every summer they leave and do not go near me until autumn.
Yes, very good. I am Hogwarts castle. Pity I shall never put this riddle to any of them. My verbal skills are, to say the least, sadly inadequate to the task. The best I am able to do is make a few of them aware that I might have a consciousness of my own. Even then, they think they are simply being poetic with regard to some sort of network of spells, intelligence perhaps, but not a being.
However, I suspect that many might not be best pleased if they did know I live, think, and feel. Quite a lot of help I was, they might say. In whose protection, they might ask, was one Tom Riddle nurtured and cared for, allowed to construct his evil persona and make an early kill? Mine, of course. Under whose roof did so many of his Death Eaters grow up, learn the foul doctrine that pureblood was superior, and acquire the magical skills to commit their later crimes? Mine, of course.
Or perhaps, they would be particularly vexed regarding last year and the Chamber of Secrets. For, had a certain castle not contained said chamber in the first place, Riddle would have found no place to hide, no basilisk with which to terrorize my students, no plan at all. Instead, he petrified children, ghosts, and animals, while plotting the demise of the potential savior of the wizarding world. Oh yes, great job.
Let me make this as clear as possible. The Chamber of Secrets is an oozing boil on my back, where I cannot reach it to remove it, a festering puss hole. I do not condone it. I do not like it. I did not want it. I would blast the thing out if I could, which I cannot. Did you think having a poisonous snake crawling around in my plumbing against my will was pleasant? I cannot think of anything more repulsive! They were lucky I could not vomit.
As for nurturing Death Eaters I cannot do anything about that either. I try and then fail, and it is a helpless feeling that I absolutely hate, but nothing I do helps, ok? So, just leave me alone. Oh, right. I am a building talking to myself. No one accused me of anything. Pitiful.
I would not want anyone to get the idea that I am uncared for, though. No, my master takes excellent care of me. I am talking of course about Albus Dumbledore. Though, I doubt he would like me calling him master. Tells the house elves to call him a barmy old codger, her does. Now that is something I will never understand. Why would he want them to call him something he is not? I for one will call him what he is and not bother with connotations, or whatever he is so worried about. He will never know what I call him anyway. I cannot talk. Ironic.
Where was I? Oh, yes, my master. He works tirelessly to take care of the students and me. He even hired Rubeus Hagrid, who keeps the grounds around me so nice and comfortable. Mind, I am not entirely comfortable with his choice of Argus Filch, but I will admit that my cantankerous old caretaker is a hard worker. No bedside manner though, goodness.
Albus Dumbledore, right. What I was trying to say is that my master is in love. Normally, this is not something I would condone, but this is a special case. No worthless eye candy is this Lady, but a truly worthy woman. Thankfully, she loves him back. The object of my master’s affections will not take time away from his life work or distract him from his protection of the wizarding world, the whole world if truth were known. Instead, they will make quite the formidable team. That is to say, I approve. She is quite worthy of him.
Now, before any accuse me of sentimentality, for I am breaking one of my own rules in approving of a human romance, let me explain precisely why I admire Professor Minerva McGonagall. In terms of intelligence, she is unmatched. I am particularly fond of intelligence, as I experience frustration when I see people whom nature has gifted with the powers of movement and speech but denied brains. What a waste. Those Crabbe and Goyle creatures, for example.
Additionally Minerva McGonagall has bravery and compassion. Or more precisely, she has a teacher-hero complex. I know, she never cries in public, never screams, and never breaks composure, so as not to frighten the students. You would think she was the one made of stone, had you not seen her alone as I have. Then, she does all three, but only for her students. Truly, the only thing to frighten her is the thought of someone harming her students. No one hurts her students on her watch, even if they were not her students for years. I have even known Minerva McGonagall to cry alone in one of my more deserted rooms for death eaters. She had no more reason to cry than that she had once taught them. Minerva McGonagall has never shed a tear for herself in all the time she resided within my walls. That alone surely deserves admiration.
Finally, I admire Minerva McGonagall for her temper. That may seem odd, but please remember I have no power of movement or speech. To sit and watch but never interfere is incredible frustrating. So, when I feel I can take no more, and Minerva McGonagall happens to loose her temper, especially if it is at the same incompetent fool I want to lose my temper at, can be…well… cathartic. Personally, I find no greater pleasure than in watching Minerva McGonagall tell someone off thoroughly.
Anyway, enough of my rambling. The point of all this excessive discussion is that my master and Minerva McGonagall, who I will henceforth call the Lady (as in Lady of the castle), are in love. My problem is that they do not know it. More to the point, they each think the other does not know it. That is utterly unacceptable. As no one else seems to notice, it becomes my job to get my Lady and master together. I just have to force them somehow to start dating without moving, speaking, or otherwise behaving like anything other than the castle I am. Great. This should be interesting…
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Harry Potter. This story is written merely for recreational purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. This is an ADMM story. If you do not like the pairing, do not bother with it. Also, parts of this are somewhat cliché. Ye be warned
Always Watching
I doubt very much that they know who I am. Perhaps, though, someone would like to guess. Students know me very well. They see me every day. I have never spoken before. No? I am benevolent, yet sometimes frustratingly uncooperative. I am, as far as any can tell, a silent observer. Every summer they leave and do not go near me until autumn.
Yes, very good. I am Hogwarts castle. Pity I shall never put this riddle to any of them. My verbal skills are, to say the least, sadly inadequate to the task. The best I am able to do is make a few of them aware that I might have a consciousness of my own. Even then, they think they are simply being poetic with regard to some sort of network of spells, intelligence perhaps, but not a being.
However, I suspect that many might not be best pleased if they did know I live, think, and feel. Quite a lot of help I was, they might say. In whose protection, they might ask, was one Tom Riddle nurtured and cared for, allowed to construct his evil persona and make an early kill? Mine, of course. Under whose roof did so many of his Death Eaters grow up, learn the foul doctrine that pureblood was superior, and acquire the magical skills to commit their later crimes? Mine, of course.
Or perhaps, they would be particularly vexed regarding last year and the Chamber of Secrets. For, had a certain castle not contained said chamber in the first place, Riddle would have found no place to hide, no basilisk with which to terrorize my students, no plan at all. Instead, he petrified children, ghosts, and animals, while plotting the demise of the potential savior of the wizarding world. Oh yes, great job.
Let me make this as clear as possible. The Chamber of Secrets is an oozing boil on my back, where I cannot reach it to remove it, a festering puss hole. I do not condone it. I do not like it. I did not want it. I would blast the thing out if I could, which I cannot. Did you think having a poisonous snake crawling around in my plumbing against my will was pleasant? I cannot think of anything more repulsive! They were lucky I could not vomit.
As for nurturing Death Eaters I cannot do anything about that either. I try and then fail, and it is a helpless feeling that I absolutely hate, but nothing I do helps, ok? So, just leave me alone. Oh, right. I am a building talking to myself. No one accused me of anything. Pitiful.
I would not want anyone to get the idea that I am uncared for, though. No, my master takes excellent care of me. I am talking of course about Albus Dumbledore. Though, I doubt he would like me calling him master. Tells the house elves to call him a barmy old codger, her does. Now that is something I will never understand. Why would he want them to call him something he is not? I for one will call him what he is and not bother with connotations, or whatever he is so worried about. He will never know what I call him anyway. I cannot talk. Ironic.
Where was I? Oh, yes, my master. He works tirelessly to take care of the students and me. He even hired Rubeus Hagrid, who keeps the grounds around me so nice and comfortable. Mind, I am not entirely comfortable with his choice of Argus Filch, but I will admit that my cantankerous old caretaker is a hard worker. No bedside manner though, goodness.
Albus Dumbledore, right. What I was trying to say is that my master is in love. Normally, this is not something I would condone, but this is a special case. No worthless eye candy is this Lady, but a truly worthy woman. Thankfully, she loves him back. The object of my master’s affections will not take time away from his life work or distract him from his protection of the wizarding world, the whole world if truth were known. Instead, they will make quite the formidable team. That is to say, I approve. She is quite worthy of him.
Now, before any accuse me of sentimentality, for I am breaking one of my own rules in approving of a human romance, let me explain precisely why I admire Professor Minerva McGonagall. In terms of intelligence, she is unmatched. I am particularly fond of intelligence, as I experience frustration when I see people whom nature has gifted with the powers of movement and speech but denied brains. What a waste. Those Crabbe and Goyle creatures, for example.
Additionally Minerva McGonagall has bravery and compassion. Or more precisely, she has a teacher-hero complex. I know, she never cries in public, never screams, and never breaks composure, so as not to frighten the students. You would think she was the one made of stone, had you not seen her alone as I have. Then, she does all three, but only for her students. Truly, the only thing to frighten her is the thought of someone harming her students. No one hurts her students on her watch, even if they were not her students for years. I have even known Minerva McGonagall to cry alone in one of my more deserted rooms for death eaters. She had no more reason to cry than that she had once taught them. Minerva McGonagall has never shed a tear for herself in all the time she resided within my walls. That alone surely deserves admiration.
Finally, I admire Minerva McGonagall for her temper. That may seem odd, but please remember I have no power of movement or speech. To sit and watch but never interfere is incredible frustrating. So, when I feel I can take no more, and Minerva McGonagall happens to loose her temper, especially if it is at the same incompetent fool I want to lose my temper at, can be…well… cathartic. Personally, I find no greater pleasure than in watching Minerva McGonagall tell someone off thoroughly.
Anyway, enough of my rambling. The point of all this excessive discussion is that my master and Minerva McGonagall, who I will henceforth call the Lady (as in Lady of the castle), are in love. My problem is that they do not know it. More to the point, they each think the other does not know it. That is utterly unacceptable. As no one else seems to notice, it becomes my job to get my Lady and master together. I just have to force them somehow to start dating without moving, speaking, or otherwise behaving like anything other than the castle I am. Great. This should be interesting…
