Quidditch League Challenge, Season 5, Round 4

Seeker

Ballycastle Bats

McGonagall family

The Luckiest Town In Scotland

Leaves crunched under Rev. Robert McGonagall's feet while he walked slowly towards the small cemetery. He could see a small gathering of people already gathered around the casket.

Robert sighed.

This was the fifth funeral so far that October, and the month was only half over. Sometimes it seemed as if the war would never end.

He knew the boy in the coffin well, he supposed most people in Caithness did. Tommy Lowell was a clerk at the local pharmacy, known for being friendly almost to a fault. Though the rest of his family had been in their basement shelter, Tommy was still upstairs when the bomb hit, trying to save the family cat.

As Robert shook hands with the deceased's family a terrible, choking sense of guilt came over him. He knew he could have prevented it.

Isobel, his wife, begged him to let her cast a protection spell on their village, but he wouldn't allow it. Magic was still new to Robert, and he was terrified of what the neighbors would do if they found out the truth. However, he now suspected Isobel had put the protection spell on their own home.

As other homes in the village were pummeled, the McGonagall house was curiously untouched. The townspeople had started to make comments about how they really must be "divine" and "blessed", which made Robert sting with embarrassment. Only for Minerva and Robert Jr.'s sake did he avoid making any comment. He would risk anything to keep them safe.

Looking at the Lowell's Robert realized that he couldn't let the rest of the town suffer while his on family was protected.

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"How did the service go?" Isobel yelled from the kitchen of the McGonagall's sprawling mansion.

Robert entered the kitchen, and watched his wife for a moment. She was beautiful, with her dark black hair in a neat braid down her back. She balanced Robert Jr. on her hip while Minerva read her directions from a cookbook.

"It went fine," he said finally. "As good as these things can go."

Isobel turned to look at her husband, surprised by the tone in his voice. He rarely sounded so defeated.

"Are you sure everything went alright, dear?" she asked.

Robert looked up at her hazel eyes, trying to lay down his fears and ask her to put herself in danger. Though he tried, he couldn't make himself. Instead, he buried his face in his hands.

"Minerva, watch the stew for a minute," Isobel said to her daughter. Minerva nodded gravely and arranged a stool in front of the stove. She too, shot an anxious look over at her father.

Isobel tucked the baby into a high-chair, and gently urged Robert out of his chair.

"Come on, dear. Let's get you to bed," she said.

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"What's all this about?" Isobel asked, fluffing up the pillows behind Robert's head.

He kept his eyes closed as he spoke.

"I know you put a spell on the house."

Isobel's face twitched at his words. There was a part of Robert that never trusted her after she told him she was a witch, and it weighed heavy on her.

"I know you wanted to protect the children, so I let it go." He opened his clear, blue eyes and Isobel felt as if they sent a chill over her body. "Even though I told you not to."

Isobel cast her eyes down, and Robert's hand clutched hers tightly.

"I don't want to ask you-I don't want to ask you to do this," he said.

"Do what?"

"Bel, if our house is safe, every house in the village should be safe. It's my responsibility to care for them, as the preacher..."

Isobel smiled. Finally, he saw what she was trying to tell him.

"I couldn't agree more," she said, kissing his hand. "I'll get started right away."

"You have to be careful. Nobody can know it was you."

Robert held Isobel by the shoulders, and stared deep into her eyes.

"I promise," she said, before Robert pulled her into a kiss. It was a softer, sweeter kiss than she was used to from her husband, and it made her stomach feel like a bubbling pot.

"Ive got to check on Minerva," she whispered quietly.

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No matter how many bombs were dropped on Caithness, it residents remained unharmed. They attributed the luck to many things-God's will, the spirit of Tommy Lowell and other Caithness angels, various feats and accomplishments of the townsfolk.

There were even some whispers of magic, but the sensible Caithness residents mostly thought that was silly. Just some old Scottish superstition, Druid folklore.

Though happy his town was protected, Robert McGonagall never really felt relaxed as long as Isobel kept the charm over the town. He had sleepless nights imagining their neighbors storming the house with pitchforks and lanterns, like in the silent horror movies he would take Isobel to see before they were married.

Robert couldn't bear to watch them anymore.

Isobel assured him that nobody would discover the spell, that she had included more charms to deflect the other muggles thoughts from her. Still, it could not keep the images of his children being slaughtered from Robert's mind.

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Isobel had different concerns. Technically, magic folk were not allowed to interfere with muggle affairs, and certainly not in muggle wars.

The statute of secrecy could be breached if any of their neighbors found out, but she was flouting other wizarding laws. It was only a matter of time before the ministry would find out.

She had made herself accept that her wand could be snapped, that she could be completely excommunicated from wizardry. Isobel knew she was doing the right thing.

One day, a quite dapper looking gentlemen appeared at her door. With one glance at his red velvet suit, half moon glasses, long auburn hair and beard she knew he was not a muggle. He heart sank thinking of the wand she kept hidden in her bedroom closet. Today was the day.

"Hello there," said the man with a warm smile. "Would you be Isobel Ross McGonagall?"

Isobel steadied herself, hoping she would come across steely and reserved.

"Yes. Who might you be?" she asked.

"Albus Dumbledore, on assignment from the Department of Mysteries. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. McGonagall."

"The Department of Mysteries?" This was not what Isobel expected.

"Would you mind if I came in to speak with you? Its a bit of a sensitive subject..."

"Of course," Isobel stepped aside, letting Dumbledore stride into the home. She closed the door behind him, and offered him a seat at a leather armchair positioned near a raging fire.

As Isobel sat across from the him, Dumbledore began to explain.

"You may have heard of our recent troubles with a dark wizard-Gellert Grindelwald," he looked over his glasses to see if the name caused any reaction in Isobel. It did sound vaguely familiar, though she hadn't read the Daily Prophet in months.

"Well, he has become quite a problem," Dumbledore continued. "A very well educated wizard, Grindelwald seems to breeze through most known protective charms."

He paused, running a hand over his short-trimmed beard.

"Recently it had come to our attention that this town has a very unique charm on it, something the ministry hasn't seen before. The call Caithness 'The Luckiest Town in Scotland', did you know?"

Isobel stared into the fire, not knowing whether to confirm his statements. She felt a small sense of pride growing in her chest.

After a few moments waiting her her to respond, Dumbledore began speaking again.

"Usually, a charm this large in a muggle area would be met with consequences. But, we are willing to make a deal for the use of the charm." At that, Dumbledore stood up and handed Isobel an envelope. These are the terms, send them to us by owl if they are satisfactory." He then looked at an elaborate device that seemed like a pocket watch but obviously did not tell time, at least normal time. "Sorry to make this brief, but I really must be going. We do hope to hear from you soon."

Isobel wordlessly let the man out, and watched him disappear behind a row of trees.

At that very moment, she saw Robert walking up to the house, holding Minerva's hand and carrying the small bible he always used to take notes for his sermons. He looked up to see her at the door and gave a small wave, which she returned.

I really am a luck woman, Isobel thought to herself.