Chapter 4: An Enlightening Conversation

While Sally was making sure Harry got to his dorm without getting in trouble, Isobel and Albus were walking the halls in silence, garnering many curious looks and whispers. Most of the older students were wondering who she was, and a few commented that the Headmaster looked a little peeved. A great many felt it was too bad they were going to miss the… talk that was about to happen. They had never seen the headmaster so… ungrandfatherly.

When the two professors got to the gargoyle, Dumbledore gave the password, and they went up the stairs.

Isobel hated the office on sight, she always had. It hadn't changed a bit from the times she applied for the post she now held. The circular room was crowded with furniture and magical equipment. And had an overabundance of trinkets that seemed to do nothing but make noise and puff smoke.

The phoenix's perch was large and gold, a bit over the top, in her opinion. The bird perched there was always a sight to see, though. Said bird trilled a welcome, as always.

The massive quantity of portraits of the old headmasters/mistresses was overbearing, and you knew that whatever you said here would soon be all over the castle. Hogwarts was notorious for its rumor mill; nothing stayed a secret long. The portraits made sure of that.

The whole office made her think that the man in front of her was trying to impress people with his belongings, when all it did with her was make her think he was overcompensating for something.

"Now then," Albus stated as he took his seat behind the large, overly crowded desk, "perhaps you can tell me how you came to be teaching History of Magic? What did you do to Professor Binns?"

"He was fired, so I took over," Watts replied with a shrug. She had already told him this.

"All professors are hired, or fired, by me, and I did not do so in your case, nor did I relieve Cuthbert," he said, looking over his glasses in his disapproving grandfather look. His long, thin hands folded in front of him and laid on the desk atop of some official looking parchments.

"Binns was let go by a higher power than you. Subsequently, I was hired by the same power," Isobel said as she took a seat on one of the four chairs in front of that ostentatious desk. She clasped her hands and put them on her lap, then glared at the headmaster firmly, letting him know she wasn't the least bit intimidated, even though she was slightly. She reached up and patted a nonexistent stray hair, making sure her bun was firmly in place, which given she was dead it always was, giving off a carefree attitude.

"There is no higher power than me at Hogwarts," came the rebuttal, complete with the hubristic tone. To his knowledge not even the school's Board of Governors could overrule his placements. If they could Severus Snape would have been fired the year he started. Oh, they could vote to take him from his position as Headmaster, but until that time, he was in charge of hiring. That vote needed to be unanimous, so it was highly unlikely to happen since he knew he had people in his pocket. No, to him, his power was absolute.

"That is one of your major problems, Dumbledore," Professor Watts stated as she folded her ethereal arms over her chest. She was looking down her nose at the overbearing man. "There is always someone with more power than you. You would do well to learn that," she finished and looked at the chair next to her, as if there was someone there. She was hoping Sally showed up soon.

"And who might this higher power be?" the old man questioned in a disbelieving voice, glancing at the empty chair to see what she was looking at. He did not see anything but an empty chair, and then to his surprise someone started to materialize.

"That would be me," came the childish voice as Sally faded into view, still in her little girl persona. However, unlike Isobel, she was solid. She was still adorable, with her firm adult look on her baby-doll face. Her magic radiated off of her, but in this body it was a wasted effect. Except to Fawkes, who was starting to shuffle nervously.

"Sally," Isobel said with great relief, very happy she was there. "Thank you for coming. I know you hate to show yourself." She gave an impish grin to the little girl, and then sat back to watch.

"Oh, I have quite a few things to say to Albus Dumbledore," the embodiment of Death stated, her face still scrunched in a miffed manner.

"Who are you, my dear? How, pray tell, did you get into my office? One your age should not be here. Where are your parents?" Dumbledore asked with an amused glint in his eyes. To his mind there was no way this cute little girl could be more powerful than him. The magic he was feeling must be a trick. "Nevermind, run along now and go back to where you belong. I have business to conclude." He made shooing motions with his hands, that thrice-damned twinkle still in his eyes, as if he found the whole situation humorous.

Sally looked down at herself and sighed. Her face transformed into a cute little pout as she thumped back into her chair, like the child she was portraying had been denied a sweet. She really liked this body, it made Harry feel at ease, but she could see she would not be taken seriously as a little girl. So, she waved her hand up and down her body, starting from her head down. She slowly melted into her more common skeletal body.

He was tall, thin and had on a dark cloak, which hid all but his boney hands and skeletal face. His empty eye sockets looked at the old man and there was a deep sense of foreboding directed at him. "Perhaps, you will take me seriously now. As to who I am, well, you may call me Death," the deep male voice echoed throughout the room, as he waved a hand in the air and crossed his legs, completely at ease and if he had an eyebrow to lift, he would have. Grey power poured into the room and dampened the spirit of every thinking thing in there.

Poor Fawkes didn't know what to do. He jumped from one leg to the other, and ruffled his feathers in indecision. He knew this being wasn't evil, but being an immortal creature he feared Death, since it was the only being that could indeed kill him. He trilled a sad song that had questioning notes in it.

Death, for that was his name in this persona, looked at the bird and smiled. "Worry not, immortal bird, I am not here to take anyone to the beyond. I just want to talk to your friend," he stated, pointing to the very pale headmaster. "He has done me a disservice and I will know the reason why." He then turned his bony face to the scared man.

Albus tried to remain calm, but it was not easy with the power of Death filling his office, suppressing the very air. He had no idea what the disservice the being was talking about but decided to direct the conversation.

"Perhaps…" he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Perhaps, you can tell me why you felt the need to replace one of my professors?" he choked out, putting the topic to the one from before, hoping he didn't have to answer the unspoken question.

"Maybe instead, you can tell me why you feel the need to subdue your students learning with a substandard professor? Are you doing that on purpose? I mean, what could you possibly have to hide? You did seem upset over today's lesson," Death said, stroking his jaw with his long boney fingers, which made a scratching noise as bone met bone. It was an eerie sound that made the portraits cringe, not to mention Albus. "Not that it matters as I have remedied that problem," he said, looking at Isobel and giving her a toothy grin. "Young Isobel will do quite well."

She smiled back and nodded her head in thanks and settled more deeply into her chair, well as much as a ghost can. She knew Sally/Death would take care of any interference this man might do. Her dream was now a reality and she was thankful to the deity for that. She was a bit concerned about the Death Stick, but Sally had assured her that it would not make a difference.

The headmaster gave a soft huff of frustration. He hated it when his questions were answered with questions. He didn't feel the need to defend his actions. "What I do in this school is no one's business but my own," he stated as firmly as he could, trying to regain control over the conversation.

"You, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, are an egotistical, hubristic man." A finger raised and pointed at the paling man.

"I beg your pardon," the old man said, getting offended, which made him feel braver.

"You may not beg my pardon," Death said, pointing his bony finger once again. "Do you really think that the parents of your students have no say? What of your Ministry? Does the Board truly have no control? You really don't have the power you have convinced yourself that you deserve. You are just someone who was put on a pedestal and left to hang after your defeat of Grindelwald. And while you do deserve recognition for that, it does not mean you are meant to rule. You still have not given up on your boyhood dreams. All of your titles give you great power, but you will fall soon if you do not change your ways," the transformed Sally warned ominously, his voice drifting around the office and filling every crack and crevice. "Perhaps, it is time you retire, if you cannot see that it is time for a change," he added, keeping his hollow eyes to the old man.

"I am in complete control of my faculties, thank you very much," Albus said as he sat up straighter, insulted that someone would even question his mental control. "My power is well known throughout the Wizarding World. There is none that can beat me in a duel. Even Voldemort feared me. There is none better to protect the students of this school. No one living that is," he amended quickly, given his company.

"You're a fool," Death sighed.

"I have complete control over Hogwarts," Albus continued as if Death had not spoken, "and you have no power here. This is the land of the living, you belong to the dead. Why are you here?" the headmaster asked still trying to get control.

Death shook his skeletal head, and if he could have, his eyes would have portrayed great disappointment. "For someone who wanted to get a hold of my Hallows, you are very uneducated in my power. How could you want to be the Master of Death if you know so little about me?" he asked, leaning forward, making Albus lean back.

It took every bit of willpower Isobel had not to burst out laughing at that. As she had told her class, Sally didn't make the Deathly Hallows, ergo there was no Master of Death. This persona was just playing with the man.

If possible Dumbledore got paler as he tried to get further away from the skull that was getting closer. His face took on a waxy hue and his eyes were almost popping out of his head. He always believed that this being had no power on the world of the living, but if what this deity was saying was true, he had literally courted Death unknowingly. He cleared his throat again and asked, "You say I have done you a disservice, can you tell me what it is that I am supposed to have done to offend you?" He truly wanted to know.

"You have done two things to offend me. First you tried to control me, and second you have harmed my charge," the deity answered vaguely. He wasn't going to tell this man who his charge was; he was going to let him sweat. Maybe it would take him down a peg or two. He knew the man, all but shaking in fear in front of him, was not an evil man, but he was drunk on power and that was never a good thing.

That made the living man's face turn thoughtful. He had no idea who this… person was talking about, as far as he knew he had never harmed anyone intentionally. And those that had come to harm by his plots… well, they would be beneath this deity's notice. They were minor players, and it was all for the Greater Good, surely this being knew that.

It couldn't possibly be talking about young Harry. No, he had never, to his knowledge, hurt the boy. He had placed him in a loving home with his last living relatives, away from his fame. Surely, he had given the boy a good childhood. Yes, they might not have treated him as well as his cousin, but they gave him what all little boys need; food, water, clothes, and a place to sleep. So, no, not young Harry. In that case, who was Death speaking about?

Death looked at Isobel, who shrugged, he could read the old man's thoughts. Dumbledore truly believed what he was thinking. That he was not culpable for Harry's bad childhood. A truly hubristic man. He felt no guilt or shame.

Isobel could not read the old man's mind, but she could see it was pissing off Death. She could only guess as to what Albus was thinking. Whatever it was, Death was going to prove him wrong.

Dumbledore looked at the skeletal face and got no answers. "I do apologize for trying to control the Hallows. I was young and in love, plus it was for the Greater Good. We were only trying to make the Wizarding World a better place. It was only at the death of my sister that I decided that perhaps I was going about it incorrectly," the old man said, sounding like he truly was sorry, not for trying to rule, but for trying to gain Mastery over Death through thoughts of violence.

Both Death and Isobel scoffed at that. They knew Albus still coveted the Hallows. He was only deluding himself.

"Unlike what you tried to teach the children," the old man accused, looking at Isobel and trying to turn the conversation away from him. "Was there a reason you decided to defame my character?"

"I stated nothing but the truth. It is all documented and researched as fact. You will not prevent me from teaching history. It will be factual, and not your fantasy," Professor Watts stated, leaning forward, and tapping her non-corporeal finger on the desk, to make sure this man understood where she stood. "You are part of the Wizarding World's recent history, and if you want people to continue to look up to you, then they need to know all about you and not just what you tell them," she added, sitting back and once more patting her bun.

"As I have stated before, I am in control of Hogwarts, and if you do not comply with my demands then you will be banished," he threatened, glaring at the upstart woman and ignoring that last shot at his personality.

Death scoffed. "I'd like to see you try," he said as he morphed back into Sally. She sat back to watch him attempt it, knowing that the Headmaster could not undo her magic. With her arms folded and the condescending look on her face, she was lovable.

Isobel tittered behind her hand, it was really hard not to pick Sally up and cuddle her when she looked like that. She was still a bit worried about the Elder Wand being able to banish her, even if Sally wasn't. She crossed her arms and grabbed her biceps and waited.

Dumbledore took up the challenge and waved the Death Stick in an attempt to banish the ghost. He called the spell and he waved and waved, but nothing came of it. Magic washed over the ghost, but she was still there when all was said and done. He sat down completely disgruntled and pouted, which looked sad on such an old face.