Thwick-unk…thwick-unk…thwick-unk. Minerva McGonagall darted behind the gigantic Christmas tree as she heard footsteps approaching on the other side of the door to the Great Hall. Leaning against the wall, she sighed and rested her face in her hand, pinching her nose.
Please don't find me, please don't find me, she thought to herself as the door opened and the footsteps entered, drawing closer to the opposite end of the room and her hiding place. But thankfully as they reached the dais with the professor's table, they turned sharply and went in the other direction before disappearing through a doorway in the corner and fading down the stairs.
Although she'd spent plenty of holidays alone before, this Christmas was the first in a long time where Minerva actually felt alone. With her mother's death mere months ago, both her parents were gone. Her brothers would have been more than happy to welcome her into their homes for the holidays, but she felt as if she would just spoil the day for all of them, the children especially. And although the other Hogwarts professors had tried to be comforting and do what they could for her as well, it was making her sick having everyone treating her in such a delicate manner.
Even one of her old schoolmates, Robin Delacey, had invited her to spend Christmas with her family. Robin's daughter, Tillie, had even asked to make sure that Minerva had received the invitation.
The day before the holiday break began, Tillie Delacey approached her professor after Transfiguration. "Professor," she began quietly.
Minerva looked up from straightening the pile of homework that had just been turned in on her desk, peering at the fourth year girl over her spectacles. "Yes, what is it Miss Delacey?"
"My mum wanted me to ask you if you'd received her letter."
Tucking a strand of dark brown hair back behind her ear, Minerva replied, "Yes I did. I sent my regrets that I'm not able to attend, but perhaps you could give her my regards?"
Deflating, Tillie nodded slowly and said, "Of course, Professor." Then she turned to leave the classroom, picking up her bookbag on the way. As she reached the door, she turned back and added, "If you do change your mind, Mum definitely won't mind."
As Tillie's footsteps faded down the hallway, Minerva let the tears roll out of her eyes.
So now here she was, a 46-year-old woman avoiding her colleagues and the dozen or so students left in the school by hiding behind a tree. She had managed to dodge a few people for now. Filius had been adding more candles to the Entrance Hall, two seventh-year boys had been having a snowball fight in the courtyard, Peeves had been singing crude Christmas carols, and someone had just crossed through the Great Hall. This was pathetic.
Composing herself, Minerva stuck loose pieces of hair back into place and straightened her glasses before walking out from behind the tree and leaving the Great Hall. She crossed the Entrance Hall and headed upstairs to the fourth floor corridors. Satisfied she was alone, mid-stride she transformed. If anyone were to have turned down the corridor, they would have only seen a cat lurking along through the shadows.
Being an animagus had its advantages, Minerva knew. She had come to know the majority of the students' pet cats, and as long she had something to offer them in return, they provided her with snippets of information about the goings on of students. Given they were cats, they usually bragged to Minerva about their humans' various accomplishments, but she didn't mind as she gained a new perspective on the students she taught and made her feel more connected to them.
She slunk down the corridor in the shadows along the wall, watching around her for another cat to appear. Minerva reached an alcove where she knew some of the cats tended to gather. When she poked her head in, she was met with a hiss. Muffin, a fluffy, orange cat belonging to a second year girl, had uncurled her tail from her nose, lifted up her head, and warned the intruder to not disturb her nap.
Minerva quickly backed away, knowing better than to interrupt a sleeping cat's nap. So instead she continued down the corridor, keeping an eye out for any of her other kitty acquaintances. Reaching the corner, Minerva carefully peaked around, and, seeing no one, turned it and continued. There were a few more alcoves in that corridor for her to check.
The first one was deserted, save for a pedestal that held some trophy or other someone had earned several centuries earlier. The second one was home to a suit of armor, feet shoulder width apart, and the butt of a giant spear, which was held in its right hand, resting on the floor to its side. Minerva poked her head around the corner into the alcove. Not seeing anyone, she moved in farther until she could peer around the feet as well. On the other side was a male tabby named Barney, curled up and lazily scratching at the wooden butt of the spear. He looked up when he saw Minerva.
"I haven't seen you for a while, Minnie" he meowed.
Minerva sat directly behind the feet, close to Barney but not too close. "I've told you not to call me that!" she retorted. Then she added with more gentle meows, "I couldn't very well go around like this when the students were here."
"Hmmeow…No, I suppose not." Barney trailed his paw along the stone floor.
Out of all the cats that lived in the castle, Barney was one of only a few who knew Minerva's true form. When she'd first started transforming and roaming around the corridors as a cat, she had needed some guidance and Barney, being a senior cat who'd been left behind when his human had graduated and had lived in the castle for over ten years, offered to be her guide. And that had come with a need to tell him the truth then swear him to secrecy. It had gone unsaid that Minerva could jinx him if he were to break that promise.
After a few moments of silence, Barney spoke again, "Anyways, what brings you here this afternoon?"
Minerva rolled onto her side and stretched out before she replied, "I am not exactly in the mood to join in the Christmas festivities with the other professors."
"So it's Christmas today, is it? I tend to lose track." Barney yawned. "Well you're welcome to stay here with me," he purred.
The two cats laid curled up around the feet of the suit of armor. Minerva lost track of time. Over the course of the afternoon, the pair stretched and shifted positions, inadvertently drawing closer to each other, until Barney's tail was draped over Minerva's front paws and her's was curled up between them, next to Barney's belly. They drifted in and out of sleep, or at least feigning and wishing they were asleep.
Around early evening, both began to wake and arouse each other with their moving. Barney rolled onto his back and let out a yelp as Minerva nuzzled his neck. In one swift motion, he rolled over her, onto the floor on the other side. There was a tangle of paws and a series of screaming meows.
To a passerby, it would have sounded like a fight. But to the two cats, it was wonderful. The two became one, tails and limbs and bodies entwined. Minerva purred in delight. They rolled into the armored feet and stone walls but didn't notice. After a wild while, they stopped, both crouched and facing each other, breathing heavily.
With only one last nuzzle to Barney's, Minerva stretched, arching her back, and stood up. She peered out around the corner, and seeing that it was deserted, returned back down the corridor from where she'd come hours earlier. It probably wouldn't do for her to be late to the Christmas supper Albus Dumbledore had insisted on for everyone remaining in the castle over the holidays.
That certainly hadn't been the way Minerva had intended to spend Christmas day. She hadn't expected a present from anyone, let alone a cat, but she given the option she wouldn't trade Barney's gift.
