Post by HappyReader on Aug 31, 2004 1:24:09 GMT -5
This can be viewed as a prologue to ‘Little Demi-God’. Just in time for Father’s Day for all the Dads out there. Minerva gives Albus the best Father’s Day present of all…
There were always strange sights to behold in the Headmaster of Hogwart’s office Minerva McGonagall knew, but none were strange as seeing a phoenix sitting atop a mountain of eggs.
“Hello Fawkes,” she greeted her husband’s familiar as she entered. Fawkes ruffled his feathers to make himself look bigger and chirped back a reply, but it wasn’t as friendly as usual. His dark beady eyes watched her vigilantly as she carefully skirted the perimeter of the phoenix’s almost two meter high pile. That would probably have meant eggs were off for breakfast this morning.
“Don’t pay him any mind Minerva, he’s been in a dreadful mood of late,” said a voice. Her husband sat at his cluttered desk, penning owls. He raised a hand in greeting.
“I take it that Fawkes is to be a father again, yes?”
“Mmmn,” replied her husband. Albus placed his quill between his teeth while he re-read his missives. “Yessh. Misshes Fawksh kicked him out of the nesht. Sheemsh Fawksh wash being too overprotective around her. Sho here he ish.”
“Oh I see,” she said nonchalantly.
“He was a terror down at the kitchens when he went to retrieve those eggs. Gave the poor house elves a fright. Now they cannot prepare any dishes that use eggs as ingredients.”
At the mention of eggs being used in culinary dishes, Fawkes began flapping his wings in distress and cried a mournful tune. It turned into a warning hiss when Minerva approached the eggs with the intent of soothing Fawkes. The phoenix snapped his sharp beak at her and presented his fierce claws.
“Oh be silent you feathered nuisance!” grumbled Albus. He looked up and gave his familiar a firm look. “And don’t you threaten my Minerva. Naughty Fawkes! No sherbet lemons for you.”
Master and familiar glared hard at each other before Fawkes tucked his head under his wing in defiance. Albus returned to his paperwork. Minerva eyed them both with an amused sly look, her next words carefully chosen.
“You know darling, I’ve always said you and Fawkes are so alike in many ways. Now I wonder, if you were in the same situation as he is would you act in the same manner?”
She was pleased to see the movement of the quill halt and his entire figure stiffen.
“Exactly the same situation?”
“Exactly the same.”
He leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a bewildered look.
“Minerva Morrigan McGonagall,” he said slowly, “are you telling me you’ve laid an egg?!”
A laughing Albus Dumbledore ducked his auburn-haired head as a heavy solid book, thrown from Minerva’s direction, went whizzing past it. Within seconds he was right beside her, his arms wrapped about her slim body in a tight embrace.
“Are you quite certain dearest?” She gave a happy nod. “Good Merlin! Minerva, that’s wonderful news!”
“But would you? Act in the same manner as ‘Fawksh’?”
“Haven’t a clue! I-I suppose I would; I am a first time father after all. How long?”
“About eight weeks.”
“Eight weeks,” he repeated slightly dazed. Albus turned thoughtful. “Oh, so it was around then…”
“Albus!”
He laughed again. Truth be told, he had some suspicions about her condition. For one, the potency of her magic had increased considerably in the last month. Simple spells like wingardium leviosa would last for longer than usual and just two days ago Minerva burnt down one of the walls of their home when her incendio spell to light their fireplace resembled a dragon releasing a jet of fire from its maw. Women do experience certain physical changes during pregnancy apart from the obvious swelling of the abdomen; tender breasts, weight gain, mood swings as well as increased cravings for food and sexual intimacy. For Minerva most of these were yet to take place but another manifestation of her pregnancy was the increase in the magical potency of her spells.
The most telling factor, however, was the aura of strong magical energy he could sense emanating from her. Certainly Minerva was a powerful witch and already exuded a strong aura, but now the power radiating from her was almost double than what was natural. He was not the only one to notice this; lately many of their acquaintances reported the hairs on the backs of their necks and forearms standing on end whenever Minerva approached them. And sometimes whenever they touched Albus could almost swear that he felt two auras, not one. His hand rested lovingly upon her still flat stomach. Minerva’s hand covered it with her own. There. Albus distinctly felt two auras now. He gave a delighted, almost disbelieving smile because he was certain beyond any doubt that their child would be a witch or wizard.
He didn’t think it wise to inform his wife of his suspicions. After all gentlemen who weren’t doctors certainly did not go about telling women they were pregnant. He was also certain Minerva would want the privilege of informing him as she had just demonstrated.
A thought pierced through the disbelief. He was going to be a father!
Grinning like a fiend he gathered his wife in his arms and twirled her about his office, despite Minerva’s cries to cease immediately. He was not the dignified Headmaster now, but a jubilant father-to-be and a damn proud husband.
“Oof! Albus! Put me down this instant! I mean it! Put me down now!”
She was grinning too while giving him the remonstration. Albus pouted before ever gently set her back on the floor. His arms were still tightly about her though, holding her protectively against him. No guesses as to why, thought Minerva wryly.
“I’m warning you Albus. If you start acting like Fawkes you’ll find yourself sharing a space beside him on that mound of eggs.”
He nodded enthusiastically, but from the glazed but slightly happy expression she knew her warning had fallen on deaf ears.
“I wanted to pop in quickly to tell you the good news so I’ll leave you to your work now. I’ll see you at home later tonight. We might even commemorate the good news by ensuring that there is a reason to celebrate.” After one last embrace and kiss, Minerva left him.
Albus remained where he was, still stunned. Far too wound up to even contemplate returning to his work, he burst out on the balcony of his office where Headmaster Albus Dumbledore raised his arms over his head and expressed his joy with an exhilarated cry of ‘WHOOOP!!!’. His cry echoed all over grounds and was loud enough to be heard down at the local village. Down on grounds below, third year Hufflepuffs making their way to the greenhouses for Herbology looked up and gave their Headmaster a startled glance. While some smiled and waved at him, others shrugged unknowingly at each other. The rest shook their heads and tapped their temples.
“Here now! What on earth is that loud racket?!” cried an angry voice back inside his office. He dashed back inside. The portraits of the previous heads of Hogwarts were yawning and rubbing bleary red eyes. All of them had cranky looks akin to a person rudely woken from a good sleep. But Albus was too happy to notice.
“Everyone, congratulate me! I am to be a father!”
“What? Did you say ‘fatter’ Albus?” questioned a wizened witch with a hearing horn. “Why ever would you wish to be, silly boy!”
“No, not ‘fatter’ but a ‘father’!”
“What?!” yelled the old witch again.
“A ‘father’ Albus? Truly?” asked Headmistress Dilys.
He nodded his head energetically.
A portrait showing a sallow and clever looking man snorted.
“You poor fool, you have absolutely no idea what you have gotten yourself into…” was what the portrait uttered, though it was wisely said quietly and to himself.
“Congratulations dear friend!” cried Armando Dippet the immediate Headmaster prior to Albus.
“Three cheers for Albus!”
“Hip, hip--”
“Hurrah!”
“Thank you, thank you.” Albus raised his hands in thanks. “It’s a pity Minerva is not here, so you could congratulate her too. Tell me, should I inform the school my good news? Or how about letting off a few dozen fireworks? An honorary game of Quidditch?”
“Minerva was here?”
“Why yes, she wanted to tell me personally. What do you think about a week long cancellation of homework?”
In silence the portraits looked at one another shrewdly.
“You ninny!”
“What are you doing here then?! Go after her! Go on, be with your family!”
“But--” said Albus.
“Not a good start in your new role as family man Albus!”
“Really now--” the current Headmaster started to say.
“Go! We’ll man the fort!”
“Are you su--” Albus began to ask.
“GO!” yelled one hundred and thirty-eight voices at him.
“Oh. Alright. Well, I-I’ll just go then, shall I?” Flustered but excited Albus grabbed his cloak, waved a cheery goodbye to Fawkes and practically skipped out of his office in a flurry of purple robes to find his wife. It was definitely much quieter once he’d left.
Slytherin Headmaster Phineas Nigellus snorted. “‘We’ll man the fort’? Really now, you lot?”
“Of course not,” answered an irritable Armando Dippet. “We just wanted that loud idiot out of here so we can have our naps in peace and quiet.”
'Father's Day'
There were always strange sights to behold in the Headmaster of Hogwart’s office Minerva McGonagall knew, but none were strange as seeing a phoenix sitting atop a mountain of eggs.
“Hello Fawkes,” she greeted her husband’s familiar as she entered. Fawkes ruffled his feathers to make himself look bigger and chirped back a reply, but it wasn’t as friendly as usual. His dark beady eyes watched her vigilantly as she carefully skirted the perimeter of the phoenix’s almost two meter high pile. That would probably have meant eggs were off for breakfast this morning.
“Don’t pay him any mind Minerva, he’s been in a dreadful mood of late,” said a voice. Her husband sat at his cluttered desk, penning owls. He raised a hand in greeting.
“I take it that Fawkes is to be a father again, yes?”
“Mmmn,” replied her husband. Albus placed his quill between his teeth while he re-read his missives. “Yessh. Misshes Fawksh kicked him out of the nesht. Sheemsh Fawksh wash being too overprotective around her. Sho here he ish.”
“Oh I see,” she said nonchalantly.
“He was a terror down at the kitchens when he went to retrieve those eggs. Gave the poor house elves a fright. Now they cannot prepare any dishes that use eggs as ingredients.”
At the mention of eggs being used in culinary dishes, Fawkes began flapping his wings in distress and cried a mournful tune. It turned into a warning hiss when Minerva approached the eggs with the intent of soothing Fawkes. The phoenix snapped his sharp beak at her and presented his fierce claws.
“Oh be silent you feathered nuisance!” grumbled Albus. He looked up and gave his familiar a firm look. “And don’t you threaten my Minerva. Naughty Fawkes! No sherbet lemons for you.”
Master and familiar glared hard at each other before Fawkes tucked his head under his wing in defiance. Albus returned to his paperwork. Minerva eyed them both with an amused sly look, her next words carefully chosen.
“You know darling, I’ve always said you and Fawkes are so alike in many ways. Now I wonder, if you were in the same situation as he is would you act in the same manner?”
She was pleased to see the movement of the quill halt and his entire figure stiffen.
“Exactly the same situation?”
“Exactly the same.”
He leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a bewildered look.
“Minerva Morrigan McGonagall,” he said slowly, “are you telling me you’ve laid an egg?!”
A laughing Albus Dumbledore ducked his auburn-haired head as a heavy solid book, thrown from Minerva’s direction, went whizzing past it. Within seconds he was right beside her, his arms wrapped about her slim body in a tight embrace.
“Are you quite certain dearest?” She gave a happy nod. “Good Merlin! Minerva, that’s wonderful news!”
“But would you? Act in the same manner as ‘Fawksh’?”
“Haven’t a clue! I-I suppose I would; I am a first time father after all. How long?”
“About eight weeks.”
“Eight weeks,” he repeated slightly dazed. Albus turned thoughtful. “Oh, so it was around then…”
“Albus!”
He laughed again. Truth be told, he had some suspicions about her condition. For one, the potency of her magic had increased considerably in the last month. Simple spells like wingardium leviosa would last for longer than usual and just two days ago Minerva burnt down one of the walls of their home when her incendio spell to light their fireplace resembled a dragon releasing a jet of fire from its maw. Women do experience certain physical changes during pregnancy apart from the obvious swelling of the abdomen; tender breasts, weight gain, mood swings as well as increased cravings for food and sexual intimacy. For Minerva most of these were yet to take place but another manifestation of her pregnancy was the increase in the magical potency of her spells.
The most telling factor, however, was the aura of strong magical energy he could sense emanating from her. Certainly Minerva was a powerful witch and already exuded a strong aura, but now the power radiating from her was almost double than what was natural. He was not the only one to notice this; lately many of their acquaintances reported the hairs on the backs of their necks and forearms standing on end whenever Minerva approached them. And sometimes whenever they touched Albus could almost swear that he felt two auras, not one. His hand rested lovingly upon her still flat stomach. Minerva’s hand covered it with her own. There. Albus distinctly felt two auras now. He gave a delighted, almost disbelieving smile because he was certain beyond any doubt that their child would be a witch or wizard.
He didn’t think it wise to inform his wife of his suspicions. After all gentlemen who weren’t doctors certainly did not go about telling women they were pregnant. He was also certain Minerva would want the privilege of informing him as she had just demonstrated.
A thought pierced through the disbelief. He was going to be a father!
Grinning like a fiend he gathered his wife in his arms and twirled her about his office, despite Minerva’s cries to cease immediately. He was not the dignified Headmaster now, but a jubilant father-to-be and a damn proud husband.
“Oof! Albus! Put me down this instant! I mean it! Put me down now!”
She was grinning too while giving him the remonstration. Albus pouted before ever gently set her back on the floor. His arms were still tightly about her though, holding her protectively against him. No guesses as to why, thought Minerva wryly.
“I’m warning you Albus. If you start acting like Fawkes you’ll find yourself sharing a space beside him on that mound of eggs.”
He nodded enthusiastically, but from the glazed but slightly happy expression she knew her warning had fallen on deaf ears.
“I wanted to pop in quickly to tell you the good news so I’ll leave you to your work now. I’ll see you at home later tonight. We might even commemorate the good news by ensuring that there is a reason to celebrate.” After one last embrace and kiss, Minerva left him.
Albus remained where he was, still stunned. Far too wound up to even contemplate returning to his work, he burst out on the balcony of his office where Headmaster Albus Dumbledore raised his arms over his head and expressed his joy with an exhilarated cry of ‘WHOOOP!!!’. His cry echoed all over grounds and was loud enough to be heard down at the local village. Down on grounds below, third year Hufflepuffs making their way to the greenhouses for Herbology looked up and gave their Headmaster a startled glance. While some smiled and waved at him, others shrugged unknowingly at each other. The rest shook their heads and tapped their temples.
“Here now! What on earth is that loud racket?!” cried an angry voice back inside his office. He dashed back inside. The portraits of the previous heads of Hogwarts were yawning and rubbing bleary red eyes. All of them had cranky looks akin to a person rudely woken from a good sleep. But Albus was too happy to notice.
“Everyone, congratulate me! I am to be a father!”
“What? Did you say ‘fatter’ Albus?” questioned a wizened witch with a hearing horn. “Why ever would you wish to be, silly boy!”
“No, not ‘fatter’ but a ‘father’!”
“What?!” yelled the old witch again.
“A ‘father’ Albus? Truly?” asked Headmistress Dilys.
He nodded his head energetically.
A portrait showing a sallow and clever looking man snorted.
“You poor fool, you have absolutely no idea what you have gotten yourself into…” was what the portrait uttered, though it was wisely said quietly and to himself.
“Congratulations dear friend!” cried Armando Dippet the immediate Headmaster prior to Albus.
“Three cheers for Albus!”
“Hip, hip--”
“Hurrah!”
“Thank you, thank you.” Albus raised his hands in thanks. “It’s a pity Minerva is not here, so you could congratulate her too. Tell me, should I inform the school my good news? Or how about letting off a few dozen fireworks? An honorary game of Quidditch?”
“Minerva was here?”
“Why yes, she wanted to tell me personally. What do you think about a week long cancellation of homework?”
In silence the portraits looked at one another shrewdly.
“You ninny!”
“What are you doing here then?! Go after her! Go on, be with your family!”
“But--” said Albus.
“Not a good start in your new role as family man Albus!”
“Really now--” the current Headmaster started to say.
“Go! We’ll man the fort!”
“Are you su--” Albus began to ask.
“GO!” yelled one hundred and thirty-eight voices at him.
“Oh. Alright. Well, I-I’ll just go then, shall I?” Flustered but excited Albus grabbed his cloak, waved a cheery goodbye to Fawkes and practically skipped out of his office in a flurry of purple robes to find his wife. It was definitely much quieter once he’d left.
Slytherin Headmaster Phineas Nigellus snorted. “‘We’ll man the fort’? Really now, you lot?”
“Of course not,” answered an irritable Armando Dippet. “We just wanted that loud idiot out of here so we can have our naps in peace and quiet.”
oh well I loved this one! - Albus sounds a bit like my brother the other day - I loved the headmasters and headmistreses part! Perfectly wonderful job! ;D
