Teaser of A Nundu for A Pet Chapter 12

A Week After Harry started living with the Tonks

' "You asked for me, Dumbledore?" Minerva questioned with a tight lip as she passed the threshold, walking up the small, straight staircase that led to his desk. The old Wizard sat behind the desk, and with a flicker of his wand, two glasses were filled with a yellowish sweet drink.

"A Sherbet?" Dumbledore asked, but Minerva's silence was more than enough of an answer.

He sighed slightly in disappointment. He didn't understand why so many people refused to drink a sweet drink like Sherbet. He looked up and noticed how tense she seemed; if he didn't know any better, he would think she was ready to duel him in a wand fight.

"Sit down, Minerva. You are not in any trouble." Dumbledore said with a casual tone as he took a sip from his drink.

"I'm not?" Minerva didn't try to hide her surprise. "I thought you would try to fire me," she said as she scooted out a chair.

This made the old wizard forrow a brow in confusion. "Why would I do that, Minerva?" He asked as he leaned back against the chair, causing its legs to creak. "You have been a teacher of Hogwarts for thirty-two years since the last December, and you are one of the best teachers that ever walked this School." Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling as he said it.

Minerva was relieved to hear that, but she furrowed a brow, giving him a questioning look. "It's about Harry Potter. You wanted him to be raised with his relatives, and I went behind your back, and found him a good apartment, where at least he wouldn't have to suffer any longer with these people." Minerva said the word 'these' with venom, almost letting out spit bits from her mouth.

From the very beginning, she had told Dumbledore that these people were no good and that Harry should be raised in a different family. At the time, she had thought of Longbottoms, but after hearing what happened to them, she was glad that he wasn't sent there. Who knows what Bellatrix Lestrange would have done to poor Harry if he had been there, but she remembers suggesting him to Amelia Bones; she had a niece the same age as Harry, and she was a capable witch.

"I still think he should be with his relatives, Minerva. My opinion on that hasn't changed. The blood wards that protect him from Voldemort will get weaker with time, and I think he should at the very least stay with them for at least a month within a year." Dumbledore said calmly, ignoring the furious look and slight disappointment he had received from Minerva.

Minerva could not believe she was hearing such words from him, so she decided to be blunt with him for once. "Do you hate Harry Potter?" Minerva's question made Dumbledore stand up abruptly, for a brief moment, there was genuine anger in his eyes, and the old witch backed away, but his face quickly turned back to calm and collected as if flipping a switch.

"Never say that again, Minerva," Dumbledore said seriously in a deep voice that shook the room; his blue eyes seemed made out of ice for a brief moment.

The old witch nodded quickly as her Headmaster continued. "I have never hated any student that ever walked this earth. Even Tom, despite what he turned out to be in the end. I never grew to hate him. In contrast, he could have been so much more if only he had used his genius for good things. But that part of history cannot be changed. Not even Grindelwald, even after—" A pained look spread on his face; his mouth felt dry, and he quickly ignored the thoughts of that cursed day as he looked back up at Minerva.

"As for Harry. I do not have any vendetta against him. His parents were good people, and from what I have seen. He is a good kid, a bit hotheaded maybe, but we all were young, so I can understand his desire to be on his own. I'm not blind. I know he is not happy with his relatives, but I genuinely believe that Blood Wards are important, and he would be much safer with his aunt."

"They treated him like he was dirt under their boot," Minerva growled with growing anger in her eyes. "He told me a little of what they did, and I'm sure there's much more that he hasn't told me. Being safe is important, but who knows what kind of person he would have become if he kept living with them? Grown without love. What would you have done if he—he became—unrecognizable?" Minerva said the last word with a hushed tone and a hint of fear in her voice.

The last thing she wanted was for Lily's son to become someone with her eyes but not the kindness his mother used to have; instead, only cold eyes without any kindness left in them.

Dumbledore looked genuinely distraught to hear that. "I would have never let them do something drastic. Lady Figg had reported to me every month on how Harry was treated, she never said anything about him being abused, only that she saw him sometimes cleaning the garden, and doing other things inside the house." he explained, knowing that children in every house would often be told to do little things inside the house, he knew that was normal in every house, taking out the trash, watering the garden, and other small things like that.

"Ohh, what about love, Dumbledore? You know how a child can grow up to be if they don't feel warmth from anyone during their childhood. You know that better than all of us." Dumbledore almost frowned upon hearing that, his mind remembering things he would much rather leave in the past.

"And did this Miss Frigg ever inform you how much Harry works around the house? He does everything there, he's like their servant and not only that, but he told me that Petunia once slapped him in the face, cutting his cheek with her ring when he presented her a drawing of the family for Mother's day. What kind of woman does that?" Minerva demanded with a clenched jaw, for the first time, glaring at her Headmaster.

Dumbledore looked troubled to hear that Lady Frigg's information had apparently been inaccurate; if he had known they had forced him to do so much work and had even caused Harry physical harm, he would have never let it slide.

"Minerva. Trust me, I wasn't aware of this. Lady Frigg has been a friend for almost two decades, she has never lied to me, and I saw no reason to doubt that her report was incorrect." Dumbledore defended himself, but Minerva wouldn't forgive this easily.

"If you have at least once bothered to check yourself, you would have seen the truth, but I suppose. We are both to blame for this. Lily, she was almost like a daughter to me, and I still failed her son, and not once visited him for the last eight years. Even I failed him and her." Minerva said with sadness in her eyes as she looked down at her feet in shame.

Dumbledore frowned, wondering if Miss Frigg had purposely lied to him or if she hadn't been able to see that Harry hadn't been treated well. Whatever the case, Dumbledore was still convinced that the boy needed to spend at least one month with his relatives once a year, but the boy was dead set on never seeing them again, and the last thing he wanted was to force him to do something.

"I'm to be blamed for his treatment, there's no doubt on this, but I think it's better—" "What are you two old worms talking about?"

Minerva didn't recognize that voice for a moment, but Dumbledore looked up at the top of the bookshelf to his right. Instead of books, the shelf was filled with different magical instruments, and on top was the Sorting Hat.

"Sorting Hat. How delightful to hear from you." Dumbledore said with a friendly smile, but the hat didn't seem to appreciate his sass.

"We both know you are lying, old Dumby. But from what I hear, you two old fucks were talking about James Potter's leftover sperm, weren't you?"

Minerva glared at the hat, and from the way her fingers curled around her wand, Dumbledore knew she was on the verge of hexing it, not that it would do anything. Godric Gryffindor himself created the hat. He was sure that he couldn't do much to shut the hat up even if he tried. The only things he knew that could burn through Godric's magic were the Black Breath of a Nundu, Fortissax's Red Thunder, and A Basilisk's Poison.

"Harry Potter, his name is Harry Potter, you old Hat." Minerva corrected him as she put down her wand, knowing it would be pointless to try and make the hat shut up.

"Ahh, good old Minerva. You know I have sorted stupid, ungrateful children for hundreds of years, and from all of them. You took me five whole minutes to sort you in the bloody Gryffindor, and even today, I feel that you have been excellent at the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuff. But you are in the ninth place. There are eight others that took longer than you to sort to their house."

"Sorting Hat, what are you trying to say here? Is there any reason you decided to talk with us, or just want to insult us?" Dumbledore cut him off, not in the mood to hear Minerva and the Sorting Hat bicker with one another.

"As much fun as insulting you is. What I want to say is that I had a dream." For the first time since its creation, the Sorting Hat had a troubled look on its hat expression!

"A Dream!" Minerva repeated the word, looking over at Dumbledore, who seemed just as shocked as her. "But how can you dream? That shouldn't be possible for you." Minerva continued, sounding a little baffled.

"I know that Minerva 'The Terror of Gryffindor'" Minerva gave him a warning look not to say another word about her old nickname, and Dumbledore motioned for the hat to continue.

"Whatever the case. I somehow dreamed last night, and I saw a boy with a scar on his forehead, and green eyes, and since I'm incapable of forgetting the students that I have sorted. I take that kid in my fucked up dream is James's leftover sperm." Minerva fumed, her face turning a little red with anger. Why couldn't the Sorting Hat be more respectful?

But the Sorting Hat didn't notice or care about Minerva's angry looks. "Whatever the case, this brat sang a song; his voice was strange. I have heard many songs in my lifetime. I had the displeasure of hearing Helga Hufflepuff sing, that bitch made my ears bleed for a decade." The Sorting Hat would have continued with his insults but decided to continue with the dream when Dumbledore grabbed his second wand, giving him a look to stop insulting the Founders.

"Anyway, his voice, it caused mountains to move and shift, and I watched the Moon changed, turning Gold, and all the Magical Animals around the world bowed down to him as if he was their master, but not just the Magical Animals. Magic itself swirled around him as if he was Master of Magic itself."

Minerva wasn't sure what she was hearing. If it were anyone else, she would have assumed they were talking madness, but this was the Sorting Hat, something that shouldn't be able to dream since, in a way, it's not really alive. And Dreams existed only for beings with a Soul; one without a Soul cannot dream, and the Sorting Hat didn't have one as far as she knew. Despite being hundreds of years old, no one really knew how the Sorting Hat still had magic inside to work. She wondered how Godric Gryffindor was capable of making this Hat work even centuries after his death, and his magic was no longer connected to the Sorting Hat.

"Is this a prophecy?" Dumbledore questioned with a furrowed brow, a look of concern behind his blue eyes.

"I'm sure is just a dream, but—Does this brat have a Nundu with him, because I'm sure I saw him having one in my dream." The Sorting Hat questioned, and from the way Dumbledore fell silent, he already knew the answer.

"How do you know what a Nundu looks like?" Minerva questioned, knowing Nundus can only be found in Africa, and she was sure the Sorting Hat never left Hogwarts since the day it was created.

"I'm hundreds of years old, young lady." Minerva gave him a pointed look for calling her that, and the Sorting Hat chuckled in amusement. "Back then, Africa wasn't the only place with Nundus. But Godric Gryffindor, and Salazar Slytherin made sure their numbers would decrease until their number hit zero."

"Did—did they kill them?" Minerva questioned, a little horrified, knowing it took a whole army to kill one Nundu, yet The Sorting Hat was making it sound like two of their Founders were alone capable of killing all the Nundus that used to live in the United Kingdom.

"Killing isn't the only way one can deal with something they don't like." Minerva wished the hat would have elaborated further, but from the way it shut its mouth. Minerva knew she wouldn't receive answers from him.

Her mind went back to the dream, and she could tell that it had troubled Dumbledore. "It's just a dream," she pointed out, but that didn't seem to comfort the old Professor.

"It might be just a dream, but the Sorting Hat is not supposed to be able to dream. It doesn't have a Soul."

"Thank you, jackass."

Dumbledore ignored the insult and sat back down. As he massaged his forehead, he reminded himself that this dream didn't mean anything bad. It was not like the hat just told them that Harry's Nundu would use her black breath in the middle of Hogwarts.

But he remembered the Voice Harry had used when he told him to use Parseltongue.

Dumbledore had wanted to see if his theory was true, but he hadn't expected the boy to speak a language he was sure he had never heard of before. He had been pondering for a long time why Harry's eyes turned like that of a snake and why the whole house shook like that. All those were questions that he had no answers to, and Dumbledore didn't like it when he had no information; that was one of the things he didn't like because having no information increases the chance of getting caught off guard and having to deal with things he could not understand and solve.

Dumbledore didn't want to believe that Harry could truly become someone dangerous in the future, but his eyes turning snake-like, and being able to speak a language that he had never heard of before. Dumbledore knew he needed to keep an eye on him and make sure there wouldn't be another Tom Riddle in the future.

It's alright, he told himself before looking back at Minerva. He decided to bring up the most important reason why he started this small meeting.

"Minerva. I only was with Harry for half an hour, but I could already tell that he and his little friend are quite close."

"They are. I'm still wary of her, but she has yet to show any sings of real danger." Minerva said with a ghost of a smile, earning a scoff from the Sorting Hat.

"Well, duh, if the Nundu really decided to show how dangerous she can be, we'd all be dead by now." The Sorting Hat said smugly, but Minerva ignored the annoying hat and focused on Dumbledore, who seemed too deep in his thoughts.

"Minerva. I want you to keep an eye on that Nundu..." '

Second Part

As Harry and the rest of the Hogwarts students push their way towards the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. A lamp comes bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry hears a booming voice: "Firs years! Firs' years over here!"

Everyone looks up and sees a huge black-bearded man with a lamp. Harry sees that the giant is at least eight and a half feet tall.

"I pity the person that makes his clothes..." Harry mumbled under his breath. Based on his description, he was sure this one must be Hagrid, which Tonks had mentioned, so he quickly made sure Itisa wasn't on his shoulder. He didn't know if Hagrid was informed of Itisa's presence, but if not, the last thing he needed was for Hagrid to recognize her and yell for everyone to hear.

Slipping and stumbling, they follow the man down what seems to be a steep and narrow path. It leads them in front of a big Great Lake.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The giant calls out, pointing to a fleet of little boats in the water by the shore. Harry eventually sat in a boat with Hermione and Neville. He didn't know where Susan had gone but figured he would meet her again at the castle.

"Everyone in?" The bearded man shouts, Who has a boat to himself.

"Right then—FORWARD!"

They soon go underneath the castle and clamber out into the rocks and pebbles. "Everyone here?" The giant asks.

"Good." He leads them up a flight of stone steps and crowds around the huge Oak from the door. The man raises a gigantic fist and knocks on the castle door thrice.

The door swings open at once. Professor Minerva stood before them almost like a vampire, judging by how serious she looked."The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." He says to the older lady.

She looks around the crowd and instantly spots Harry. She keeps her eyes on him for a solid two seconds before turning her attention back on the large man.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She claps her hands together. She then explains that once they are sorted into their respective houses, that house becomes like a second family for them. She explains how House Points work and how one can earn and lose House Points. Harry thought House Points sounded a little pointless but kept quiet once she told them to form a line.

Everyone looks around in awe as they walk through the double doors and admire the Great Hall, which is decorated with candles and many tables with students watching them. Harry looks up and sees the roof itself, which appears to be a night sky.

"Cool ceiling."

"It's not real, it's just bewitched to look like the night sky." She starts to explain in her "know-it-all" voice.

"I read about it in-"

"Hogwarts: A History." They both say at the same time, causing Hermione to get slightly pink in the face and Harry to raise an eyebrow.

"All right, will you wait along here please? Now, before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words," She announces before moving to the side.

Dumbledore stands up from his seat. "I have something to announce. The Forbidden Forest near our school remains Forbidden for everyone. Magic outside of classes should not be used, and the third floor corridor on the right side is out of bounds for everyone who does not wish to die a slow and painful death." He smiles before sitting down.

'Painful Death!'Harry mumbles to himself before looking at Itisa, who seems quite tense. He wondered why when he noticed that she was looking in a certain direction, and he quickly followed her gaze, only to see that she was looking at one of the Professors wearing a purple turban.

"Itisa, what's wrong?" Harry asked with a hushed tone, but the Nundu did not move her gaze away, and Harry knew right away something was off with that Professor, especially when he saw Itisa's eyes turn red, and he could tell she wanted to attack this Professor.

"Itisa, stay put, do not try anything. Not now, at least. Do you understand?" Harry quickly said with a commanding voice, knowing it wouldn't be a good idea for Itisa to attack a Professor in front of the entire school. Itisa's body calmed down slightly, but her eyes remained red.

McGonagall walks back to the group with a stool, scroll, and an odd wizard's hat. "When I call your name, you will come forth. I shall place the sorting hat over your head, and you will be sorted into your houses," she informs as she opens the rather long scroll.

"Abbot, Hannah!" They watched as the girl quickly sat on the stole, and the hat was placed on her head; they all fell silent. —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouts.

"Bones, Susan!" It didn't take long for this one to be sorted. "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouts the hat again.

Harry clapped for her with a bright smile, happy she was sorted into the house she wanted.

Harry doesn't pay much attention to the others until-"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost runs to the stool and eagerly jams the hat on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouts the hat.

Harry knew that just because they wouldn't be in the same house doesn't mean they could not still be friends.

Then, Neville is called, the boy stumbles a little as he sits on the stool, and Minerva places the hat on his head. For half a minute, the hat remains silent until it shouts. "GRYFFINDOR,"

When Malfoy's turn came, the hat only touched him slightly before sorting him to Slytherin.

Harry didn't care much for the others until his name was finally called. "Potter, Harry!"

As he steps forward, several whispers break out like hissing snakes. "Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?!"

"He's so cute! I hope he's in Ravenclaw."

"I didn't know he was arriving this year."

"Why does he have a cat on his shoulder?"

As Harry sits down, McGonagall places the hat on his head, "Ooooh." The hat draws out. "Harry Potter. It feels like it was yesterday when I sorted your parents." The hat speaks in his head, causing the boy to flinch for a brief moment.

"Wait, are you reading my mind?" Harry asked, a little alarmed, trying to put up his shields to protect his mind when he heard a chuckle from the hat.

"Good try, Harry Potter. While impressive, your level of occlumency is still weak to protect you from me, but bear no worries. As the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts. I cannot spill any of your secrets, even if the Headmaster of this School asked me to. I can never spill secrets on anyone, and my mind is strong enough that even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to see anything. So, open your mind, boy. There's nothing to worry." Harry didn't feel comfortable doing that, but he slowly dropped his defenses.

"Ahh, quite a mind you have Harry Potter. I have to be honest. A long time has passed since I have read a mind as complex as yours. Ahhh, I see, you want to protect your companion, quite a Gryffindor trait, you are brave, but that's not all. You want to prove yourself, you are smart, and doesn't rush to problems, you think first before doing something, hmmm, That's a Ravenclaw trait. But that's not all, I can see you are kind to your friends, and especially to you companion. Your are kind despite your childhood, that is your most impressive trait that I can see, very Hufflepuff, but that's not all. Ahhh, deep down. Hahaha. You are just full of surprises, Harry Potter."

"What do you see?" Harry asked in his head.

"I can see ambition, such ambition that even Salazar Slytherin would be jealous of you. I see protecting your companion is not the only thing that drives you; nooo, you want people to acknowledge you for things that you did, not for something you can't even remember. Where to put you? Where to put you?" The Sorting Hat fell dead silent, and Harry was stuck there, waiting for him to sort him.

For everyone else in the hall, ten whole minutes passed, and some were starting to get worried that Harry wouldn't be sorted at all.

Minerva looked at Dumbledore, waiting for him to explain or do something, but the old Headmaster seemed to have all his attention on Harry and not saying a word.

"What is taking so long?"

"What happens if you don't get sorted?"

"Has it ever taken this long to sort someone else before?"

"I think Professor Dumbledore should do something."

"You Belong in..." The entire hall fell silent, waiting for the Sorting Hat to finally sort him......

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