LXXIX: Jeremiah Was a Jarvey

Warning: Tasteless humour ahead! (But what can you expect when a Jarvey is involved?)

LXXIX: Jeremiah Was a Jarvey

Lunch was pleasant enough. Wilhelmina and Hagrid were there, as were Johannes, Gertrude, and Hafrena. Everyone else had either left the previous evening or that morning after breakfast.

"So, how are you this afternoon, Johannes?" Minerva asked, her eyes smiling. "Sleep well?"

Johannes chuckled good-naturedly. "Oh, very well, thank you, Minerva. Haffie Transfigured my chair into a little bed, so I was quite comfortable."

"I 'ear yer wantin' t' be seein' me Jarvey, P'rfesser," Hagrid said, turning to Gertrude.

"Yes, Hagrid, Professor Birnbaum was telling me about him. He sounds amusing," Gertrude said. Minerva thought she looked less subdued than she had the previous day at dinner, and in contrast to her usual robes, she was wearing some of pale rust, which Minerva had never seen before.

"Oh, yeah, 'e's right amusin', 'e is. A fine specimen! Lively, yeh might say. Why'n't yeh come round after lunch? Jeremiah's usually 'avin' a bi' of a kip 'bout now, after chasin' gnomes all mornin', but 'e brightens up when 'e's got company! Likes an audience, 'e does!"

"Would it be all right if a few of us came along, Hagrid?" Hafrena asked. "I think we're all curious – Johannes claims he swears like a drunken Auror!"

Hagrid laughed. "Aye, 'e's a rude one, all righ'! If yeh ladies won't be offended, yer all welcome! I can do tea an' me rock cakes, if yeh like."

Minerva, remembering that Hagrid's rock cakes most unfortunately resembled rocks more than they did cakes, chimed in. "That would be lovely, Hagrid, but we don't want to put you out. And we'll just have eaten lunch. I don't think we'd be able to appreciate them properly, having just eaten."

"All right, then! Jes' the Jarvey," Hagrid said brightly. "We can all go down t'gether!" Hagrid looked pleased at the prospect of everyone wanting to troop down to see his latest creature. His acquisitions weren't often very popular among the other staff, though he hadn't a clue why not. A mite high-spirited, some of them, but good creatures, he always said. "Jeremiah'll be pleased t' see yeh all, I'm sure! Get 'im in a right good mood for an afternoon o' chasin' gnomes."

Conversation went on to gnome control, and then Johannes gently steered the topic away from Flesh-eating Slugs, which Hagrid had brought up as another garden pest he'd had trouble with lately. Minerva joined a conversation with Johannes and Gertrude about herb gardens, and Johannes explained microclimates and how to manage them magically, both with and without a greenhouse. Hafrena, Wilhelmina, and Hagrid discussed whether Clauricorns could properly be considered a pest or not. From what Minerva overheard, the consensus was that, while they were annoying, they were not pests, strictly speaking. This conclusion had Minerva suppressing a smile. They all ate quickly, eager to finish lunch and go down to visit Hagrid's Jarvey. As soon as Hagrid had wolfed down his sponge cake, the others stood and prepared to follow him out.

"Coming, Professor Dumbledore?" Minerva asked, hanging back. He was still finishing his sponge cake and had been quiet during lunch. "I can wait for you, if you like."

"No, my dear. I have a great deal of work to catch up on." He smiled. "You go on, enjoy yourself."

"Why don't I stay and help you, then? I can see the Jarvey some other time," she offered.

"No, but thank you for the kind offer. If you could send Gertrude along to see me when you're through there, though, that would be helpful. And you and I still need to meet about the results of the committee meeting later today, and about your installment as Head of Gryffindor, as you are leaving on holiday tomorrow."

"All right – although if you need me, I can stay," Minerva offered.

"No, you deserve your holiday, Minerva. It has been delayed long enough. Can you come by at, say, four?"

"Of course. And I'll let Gertrude know you want to see her."

"Good, thank you, my dear. Now you go along and catch up with the others; I'll see you later."

Minerva nodded. "Till four, then."

"Till four," he agreed, gazing at her warmly.

Minerva turned and left quickly, catching up with the others as they were crossing the lawn to Hagrid's cabin.

"Professor Gamp, before I forget, Professor Dumbledore asked me to let you know he would like to see you after we visit the Jarvey."

"Thank you – did he mention a reason?"

"No, that was all he said."

Gertrude nodded. "This shouldn't take long, but Johannes promises we will be amused."

Birnbaum, overhearing, turned and said, "Oh, you will be. You may wish to cover your ears, Minerva! He is very rude!" He grinned. "Hagrid says he has not taught him anything, but some of the things he says – they would make a barman at the Hog's Head blush!"

"Well, we'll see if any of us blushes, then!" Gertrude said with a slight smile. She grinned at Minerva. "You know, I would lay odds that Johannes will blush before any of us!"

"I believe you're right, Gertrude," Hafrena said. "I wouldn't wager against you, at any rate."

Wilhelmina laughed. "Hagrid blushes at some of the things he says." She poked the assistant groundskeeper in the side. "Quite cute to see!"

"I was blushin' fer you, P'rfesser," Hagrid said, looking down at the diminutive teacher and smiling, enjoying her teasing. "The things he was sayin' to yeh! Thought I'd save yeh the trouble o' blushin' fer yerself!"

"Very kind of you, Hagrid," Wilhelmina said with a grin.

"Of course, a lot of what he says is just nonsense, but it all sounds very insulting the way he says it!" Johannes explained.

"Oh, Honnie, dear, I think it's simply that your English vocabulary needs expanding! We can have the Jarvey give you lessons in dirty words," Hafrena joked.

"Ha! I know what a 'spigot' is, and I never thought it was a dirty word until I heard the way this creature uses it!" Birnbaum said with a chuckle. "Remarkable little thing."

"Do you have Jarveys in Germany?" Minerva asked.

"Yes, and they all speak Schweizerdeutsch!"

"Really?" Minerva asked, astounded to think that all German-speaking Jarveys spoke a Swiss dialect.

Johannes laughed heartily. "No, no, of course not – they speak whatever language they are exposed to. But it would be even funnier in Schweizerdeutsch!" He apparently found his own joke more amusing than anyone else did, and continued chuckling to himself the rest of the way to Hagrid's.

Just as they reached the cabin and Hagrid began to lead them around back where, he explained, he had made a cozy little home for Jeremiah, a small Scops Owl swooped out of the sky and began flying flittery little circles around Minerva. She put out her arm for the bird to land and retrieved the letter it was carrying, then sent it off to the Owlery for treats. She looked at the letter, which was addressed to her in bright blue ink, in a large, bold script. Minerva didn't recognise the handwriting. When she turned it over, she saw that it was sealed with green wax, an image of a cracked double-handled cup impressed in the centre of it. Minerva had the feeling that she should know whom the letter was from, but she still recognised nothing in the script or the seal. She stuffed the parchment in her pocket to open later and hurried to catch up with the others, who were just disappearing behind Hagrid's hut.

"Jeremiah! Jeremiah! Come on out! Yeh got visitors!" Hagrid called.

A furry brown head popped up out of a hole. "Oooo! Crapulous flattulous friends!"

The creature's voice was high-pitched and rough.

"Aye, come on ou', now," Hagrid urged.

The Jarvey looked back and forth, back and forth, surveying the little group, then it disappeared. A moment later, its rear half appeared, and a small explosion seemed to issue from that end.

Hagrid seemed to find this very amusing and roared with laughter. Johannes giggled, but took a step back. Hafrena covered her nose with a delicate hanky. The Jarvey's front end reemerged, and the creature popped out of its little burrow and stood on its hind legs, staring with beady eyes at Johannes.

"Got bracken in yer booty? Eh, yeh got none! No fun!" The Jarvey bared its long teeth in a peculiar leer and stuck out its tongue, then turned and wiggled it at Gertie. "Wizzie follows witchie curious t' see a bitty biddy's bum! Follow yeh anywhere, yeh twitty, twatty, potty pussy! Potty pussy, potty pussy!"

Hafrena began to chuckle behind her hanky. "Hoo, Gertie! Didn't know that about you! Potty pussy!" The old witch seemed to find that quite amusing.

Drawn by Hafrena's comments, the little furry fellow ran over on all fours and stood up in front of the Divination teacher. In a sing-song voice, the Jarvey said, "Munter mouth! Wantwit! Whore's twit! Nasty, knickered nincompoop! Swotty, saucy, sassy sucker! Yer as pretty as a pasty, pimpled, pickled pumpkin!"

Hafrena laughed along with the others, and even Gertrude snickered.

"Hey, Jeremiah, come an' meet M'nerva! Come 'ere!" Hagrid called.

Jeremiah scurried over to Minerva, who was looking down at the creature with a raised eyebrow.

"Arse tight as a troll's teat! Got an ugly mug. Ugly mug, ugly mug, hair like a rug, give it a tug! Nasty naughty knickers! Pull'em down, turn around, see the same ugly pug!"

Minerva noticed that, indeed, Johannes and Hagrid were both blushing. But she didn't think that Hafrena and Wilhelmina were usually quite as pink-cheeked as they were right now, either. Gertrude was smirking, but didn't seem to be blushing.

Apparently deciding to move on and insult someone else, the Jarvey looked up at Hagrid. Rather ridiculously, he declared to Hagrid, "Poxy plonker, poxie plonker, piddly as a Pixie's plunger! Little wincie weenie! Muddles his muckie, minnie, weenie wandie in a windy witch's wincie wiggie! Wincie wiggie, wincie wiggie, teeny, tiny, titty twiggy!" he sang as he ran over to Wilhelmina. "Sticks his weenie in yer wiggie. Wincie wiggie, wanky witchy, tighty, tauty, tonky, flonky, plonky wonker!"

Apparently deciding that he'd neglected Johannes, who was folded over in paroxysms of laughter following the description of Hagrid as having a "plonker" the size of a "Pixie's plunger," Jeremiah ran over, wiggled his butt at him, and said, "Buggered by a Billywig! Short-snout, what a lout! Put a pooper in a pout!"

Going up to Gertie, who was now chuckling, the Jarvey shouted, "Swotty, saucy, sassy sucker! Face like a Horklump! Bowtruckle up yer bump! Ashwinder arse an' Flobberworm flipper, figs an' gigs an' Billywigs' shigs!" He turned back to Johannes. "Swig swot, pig's pot! Wizzie's a grabby, graspy Graphorn, a grotty, grimy granny! Stick yer horn in a fanny, wiggle it, swiggle it, fall on the floor!" The Jarvey made a lewd gesture toward Gertrude. "Put yer plonker there, yeh swotty wanker! She'll suckle yer spigot!"

The Jarvey went on in a similar vein, apparently obsessed with his visitors' nether regions, and becoming increasingly graphic and insulting, until his speech seemed to degenerate entirely and become unintelligible gibberish. Finally, when they couldn't understand a word he said, Hagrid told the creature to go catch some gnomes, and Jeremiah gave one last insult and one final fart in their general direction, then ran off to find garden gnomes.

Hafrena and Johannes decided to take a walk, Johannes trying to convince Gertrude to join them, but she insisted that she needed to see the Headmaster. Minerva declined the invitation, as well, wanting to read her mysterious letter. So Gertrude strode off toward the castle, Wilhelmina and Hagrid slipped into his cabin, and Hafrena and Johannes set off in the direction of the gates. Minerva, not wanting to risk overhearing anything from Hagrid's cabin, walked down to the lake.

She took a seat on a bench near the edge of the lapping waters, pulled the parchment from her pocket, and broke its seal.

"Bru na MacAirt

"Quin"

The letter was signed with a flair, the tail of the "Q" providing a flourish beneath his signature.

Five-thirty. That was early. And she was meeting with Albus at four. But Quin said he would wait for her until six. She should be able to make it in time if she dressed before her meeting with Albus. Still, it might be nice to stay at the castle that evening, as it was her last before she left for her parents' in the morning. But it would also be nice to see Quin again, and Albus had been encouraging her to get out of the castle and see her friends. It would be both pleasant and sensible to accept the invitation, Minerva decided. And as it was an early dinner, she should be back at the castle correspondingly early. Quin might even want his tour that evening . . . though she hadn't heard from Poppy whether she'd had any success with Professor Dustern to get permission to see the Hufflepuff common room. It might be better to wait for another day, once Dustern was gone, and Minerva could ask the next Head of Hufflepuff, as one Head of House to another. It would likely be Professor James, despite his reluctance to take the position. He was shy – withdrawn might be a more accurate description – but he seemed collegial enough, and he had participated quite willingly on the committee that dealt with the "Pretnick problem." He would likely agree to her request without any qualms.

Minerva began her walk back up to the castle. As she passed Hagrid's cabin, she heard Hagrid shouting, "Oh, Meena-bird, me Meena! Yeah, that's right! Like that!" Minerva raised her wand and cast an Imperturbable, hoping that they did that themselves during term time. They must – she hadn't heard any rumours about Hagrid having it off with some witch, after all, and hadn't even had a clue that he had been involved with anyone. It did seem the two were getting careless, though, given the way that they had entered the Great Hall for dinner the evening before, after obviously having indulged in a quickie and needing to adjust their clothing – hers, anyway. Hopefully, they were just being particularly enthusiastic after their brief falling out, and would return to exercising greater discretion before term began.

At quarter to four, Mineva left her rooms, changing her password to the more sensible "trifle," then heading toward the Headmaster's office. She had changed into her grey and green robes with the tartan skirts, and carried a green loden cloak. It was a bit heavier than she would normally need at that time of year, but her tartan cape, which she had worn when she was caught in the rain that morning, hadn't yet been returned. She also brought with her a final report for the Headmaster, which she had written up that afternoon, and a copy of the committee's proposal. Although Quin had requested a reply only if she were unable to meet him, she had sent him a brief owl to let him know that she would be coming directly from a meeting, so she wasn't entirely sure when she would be arriving, though she would try to get to the Three Broomsticks before six o'clock.

Albus was waiting for her when she arrived, and stood to greet her. Minerva smiled.

"Your charm alerted you that I was here?" she asked.

Albus chuckled. "Soon you will know all my secrets, my dear! And where will we be then?"

Minerva answered, joking, "I imagine it would take years to uncover all of the secrets of Albus Dumbledore, so little chance of our finding ourselves there any time soon."

"Hm, yes . . . well, have a seat; we will get down to it," Albus said, gesturing toward a chair. "I have reread the committee's proposal and added a few things to it, but I believe it is a workable plan."

Minerva's eyebrows rose. "You seem . . . more comfortable with the proposal than I had thought you would be, Albus. It isn't what you wanted."

"No, it is not what I wanted for Robert. But it is what I wanted for the staff and for the school, and it is not adverse to Robert's well-being."

Puzzled, Minerva asked, "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I had high hopes that the staff would agree to my proposal, at least in its broad outlines, and that Robert could continue as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher despite his affliction. However, it was equally important to me that the staff struggled with the issues and arrived at a decision that they had come to after careful, thoughtful deliberation. And as you once said, without the staff's full support, both Robert and Hogwarts would be in for a very difficult time."

"I see . . . I had thought that, I'm not sure what I thought, but you seemed to feel so strongly about keeping Robert on. I am just surprised, I suppose."

Albus smiled. "I am not entirely naive, Minerva."

"Oh, well, I didn't believe you were. Not really . . . I just thought you were a little overly optimistic." Minerva blushed.

Albus just chuckled. "Oh, I have my moments, and I do have a few crackpot ideas occasionally, but I am not completely unrealistic, my dear."

"Of course not." She felt somewhat silly for not having realised that Albus must have anticipated many different possible outcomes.

"And you did admirably, Minerva, both in arguing with me and in representing my position so well. Johannes and Filius were both full of praise for you. Thank you!"

"You're welcome – I was afraid you might be disappointed in me."

"No, not at all – you did all I could have asked, and more."

"I was happy to. And if you need me to stay – "

"No, you deserve your holiday! But I will contact you and let you know if you are needed at Hogwarts. I haven't had much opportunity to speak with Wilhelmina, but we are agreed that she will move into her old quarters next week. Seems she preferred them for some reason," Albus said.

Probably because they allowed her easier access to the grounds and Hagrid, Minerva thought.

"But you needn't move immediately, Minerva, though if you would like your current door portrait, it is easiest to move that before we do the rewarding on the second. Have you thought of any other changes you would like to make to the rooms? I can make changes at any time, but it might be more convenient to do it all at once."

"I haven't really seen much of the Gryffindor Head's quarters. The sitting room and the study is all, actually, so I don't know."

"I thought you might like your bathroom and loo replicated – if you like them, that is."

"I do – but perhaps the Head's bath might suit me just as well," Minerva said.

"Perhaps . . . but, um, your facilities are somewhat nicer than the standard. But if you think the bathroom will do . . ."

"I'll look at it before I leave, I promise." Minerva thought a moment. "Why were the bathroom and loo nicer in my rooms? Who had them before?"

"Oh, no one had used those in years. They were something of a sentimental choice on my part, actually; your rooms and your classroom had been used when I was a student by my favourite teacher, Professor Finn Futhark. They hadn't been occupied since he retired, which was a good many years ago, and so before you moved in, I refurbished them some."

"Finn Futhark? My father talked about him – he was his Ancient Runes teacher, I think."

"Yes, that's right, Ancient Runes. A lovely subject, and very useful, but it was the teacher, in this instance, that drew me to the subject. Quite unusually so . . . he tried to teach me something about the beauty of learning, of expanding one's understanding, and of sharing this with others. I don't believe his lessons were entirely lost on me at the time, although I thought him more a poet than practical. But I was something of a gourmand in those days, Minerva, and he was trying to teach me to be a gourmet, not to respond merely to my hunger in my quest for greater knowledge, but to . . . to savour it." Albus's eyes had become unfocussed and dreamy as he thought back on his early mentor, but he seemed to shake himself and continued, "Professor Futhark taught me an aesthetic appreciation of knowledge and learning, and life taught me the responsibility that comes with it. Both lessons were ones that did not take immediately, I am afraid." He took a deep breath and let it out.

"Well, Minerva, back to the matter at hand. What to do now that the committee has tendered its proposal. Clearly, we need to find a new Defence teacher. Fortunately, we will not need to replace him as Flying instructor and Quidditch coach. We haven't hired a dedicated Quidditch coach in years, and I think it would be difficult to fill, but there's no other teacher on the staff at the moment who might do, except Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she is leaving us soon."

Minerva laughed. "Are you certain you don't want to recruit Gertrude, Albus? She was a very enthusiastic and dedicated Beater!"

Albus chuckled. "Mmm, I asked her about that game. She was afraid you or Alroy might get hurt; when I asked her where I would be if she'd got herself Bludgered in the head, she was quite contrite."

Minerva smiled, but wished she hadn't brought it up. She squelched her jealousy and said, "Fortunately, Druella did have some ability to aim, and I don't believe she wanted to kill Gertrude, although I think that maiming may have been among her objectives. But is there anything else, Albus? If you would like help with advertising or vetting the candidates, you only need ask." It was coming up on five o'clock and she should be leaving soon.

"I'm sure I'll manage, and Gertrude will help, too – I sent her home this afternoon to her be with her son, but she will be back next week, and when you return from your holiday, we can discuss it further. No, what I had in mind was your assistance in drawing up some work plans for Robert. There's never been any such thing as a 'Researcher-in-Residence' before. I don't want him to have empty days to contemplate his fate or to imagine his life is useless. He's doing that too much already. I would like to have something in place for him as soon as the full staff has approved the plan. That's not until the fifth, but perhaps we can organise something between now and then."

"Yes, I will think about it and see what ideas I can come with. I'll owl you."

"Very good, my dear. You know, I was wondering, with so few in the castle . . . perhaps you might enjoy dining with me?" he asked. "Here, I mean."

"Oh." Minerva looked at him; she wished she could accept his invitation, but she had already owled Quin. It would be extremely rude to send him an owl just minutes before he was expecting to meet her. . . . "I'm sorry, I can't. I am meeting a friend. In Hogsmeade. I'm sorry," she repeated, genuinely sorry.

"Don't apologise, my dear! It was just a thought. Who are you meeting?"

Oh, wonderful. She would mention Quin, and Albus would think it was a date, and he would twinkle and encourage and tell her what a fine catch Quin was . . . . "Just a friend, no one in particular."

"Oh." Albus nodded. "I see. Well, have a nice time."

A sudden thought came to her. He couldn't think it was a date if she invited him along. "It's Quin, actually. You know, why don't you come along? I'm sure he would enjoy seeing you."

"Quin? How lovely – and I appreciate the invitation, but I don't want to intrude on your date."

"It's not a date, Albus. I don't invite other friends along on dates . . . well, not usually. But it's not a date. It was just a last-minute thing. He happens to be in town, that's all. I know he wouldn't mind."

"No, no, my dear, I couldn't possibly. You know, my dear, you may not think it's a date, but your young man seems quite fond of you."

Minerva sat up stiffly. "He may be fond of me. He is a friend. I would hope my friends were fond of me. But he is not my young man. And it would be embarrassing in the extreme if he thought that I thought he was – which he might do if you persist in saying such things, Albus, especially in front of him. I have told you, he is not interested, and even if he were, I am not." She refrained from telling Albus that he was as bad as her mother.

"I am sorry, Minerva – but you shouldn't be surprised if he changes his mind, having met you. And friendships can develop into more." Albus could scarcely imagine a vital young wizard coming to know Minerva and not falling in love with her.

"Albus, I haven't time to discuss this now. I have to leave. I hope you will join us." Minerva stood.

"No, I don't think so. Just a quiet night in for me. But thank you." Albus stood.

"We're having an early dinner in Hogsmeade. I scarcely think that qualifies as a wild night. I do wish you would come." Now that the idea had occurred to her, she liked it. There was the danger, of course, that Quin would suspect that Albus was the wizard she had feelings for, but she thought the time for worrying about that had passed once they had sat down together at Fortescue's for coffee.

"Go, have a good time with your friend, Minerva." Albus smiled at her. "Enjoy yourself!"

"All right. I will see you before I leave tomorrow, probably, but in case I don't, the password to my rooms is 'trifle.'" Minerva picked up her loden cloak. "Good night, Albus. I hope you have a good dinner."

Albus waved his hand and the door to his stairs opened for her. "Good night! Give my warm regards to Quin."

As she rode down the spiral stairs, Minerva didn't understand why she felt a sense of loss in the pit of her stomach. She only knew that she wished that Albus had asked her earlier to have dinner with him, or that he had agreed to come with her. Oh, well, Quin was good company. And it was only one evening.