Several years after her marriage had ended with the death of her beloved husband, Minerva now sat in her study back within the castle walls. There was a large pile of marking to be done in front of her, not necessarily one of her favourite tasks but what she did enjoy about it was reading how her students had improved. She gave a loud sigh as she stole a glance out of the window, in front of which she had her desk placed so she could enjoy the last of the evening's rays of sun. She looked out across the grounds towards the greenhouses, where she saw Professor Sprout watering her plants and tending to the school vegetable patch and a few students, who ought to have been inside by now, were chancing their arms to catch the last of the nice weather. Despite the distractions outside, she tried to bring her attention back to the homework in front of her from her first year students, but the name on the first piece of parchment brought her mind back the that fateful night of Elphinstone's death. She still remembered the events from nine years ago as if it had happened yesterday.
She remembered how she'd sat in the sitting room of her cottage, in great shock at how quickly events had turned. They'd barely been married for three years, three very happy years and then it was all over, just like that. He'd been taken away from her so cruelly, so suddenly and she'd barely had the chance to say goodbye. She blamed herself for what happened, even despite many of her friends and family telling her that it wasn't her burden to bare; it had been a simple accident, nothing more – but Minerva knew that if only she hadn't decided to work late that night he wouldn't have felt the need to come up to the school. If he hadn't been looking for her to remind her of how late it was, he wouldn't have decided to take the short-cut through the herbology gardens and he wouldn't have been bitten by the venomous tentacula.
She'd been sitting at her desk in front of the window just as she did so now, a large pile of marking in front of her. It had been a pleasant evening, still and quiet as the sun had turned the blue sky pink. As she sat with her ninth paper in front of her, the sound of urgent knocking on her study door instantly made her heart skip. Somehow, deep inside, she had known that something had happened. Sure enough, the person standing on the other side was not her husband as she had hoped or expected, but was none other than her friend Albus Dumbledore.
'Minerva, I must ask that you accompany me at once. There's no time to explain, but it is important that you come with me,' he'd said gravely with no twinkle in his eye as there normally was. He now looked upon his friend with pain and sorrow, and without any further conversation, she had done as he'd asked and rushed with him to the hospital wing where Poppy Pomfrey was still desperately trying to administer the antidote to Minerva's dying husband. Minerva arrived just in time to see him and to hear him weakly tell her he loved her. He smiled faintly at her as he said it and she'd gripped his hand tightly, urging him to go on, but before she could reply with how much she loved him and how sorry she was that she'd wasted so much time turning him down, he had passed away.
The events after that had become somewhat of a blur to Minerva. Albus had accompanied her back to her cottage in Hogsmead where her sister already sat waiting for her, with her three-year-old granddaughter, Minerva's great niece, in tow. Albus had sent for them as soon as he'd been advised of the situation and they had arrived as soon as Penelope had received the news. Penelope was greatly distressed for her older sister, and knew that the next few hours, days and weeks were going to be hard for them all but would be particularly hard for Minerva since she was particular inept at showing her feelings and grief easily.
The four of them had sat in her sitting room for hours, the three adults watching the little girl playing on the rug in front of the fire, tenderly oblivious to the pain and anguish going on around her. At one point Albus even knelt on his hands and knees to play with little Penny whilst her grandmother and great aunt talked. The little girl thought this elderly man with his long beard was funny, and she laughed at him as he made little blue birds fly from the tip of his wand around them both, and he even trusted her to hold his wand for a few moments. He was fascinated by her, and watched her look of utter concentration as she tried to wave the wand exactly as he had done a few moments earlier. He thought her to be a remarkable child as she managed to conjure up a simple blue feather. It may not have been a bird like he had managed, but for a child so young, to have the aptitude to even attempt such a spell was remarkable.
Whilst her granddaughter was being distracted, Penelope consoled her sister for much of the night and they both spoke openly about their own losses. Albus retired back to the school in the early hours of the morning and Penny had fallen asleep on the sofa, wrapped in her great aunt's cloak, gently sucking her thumb and hugging her favourite teddy, one that had belonged to her mother. The two women fell silent as they sat and watched the precious little girl, and after what felt like hours of silence it was Minerva who had spoken first.
'She's such a quiet child,' she'd said, her voice hoarse from her tears and from lack of speech.
'Yes she is,' Penelope agreed with a tired smile, which conveyed love for her granddaughter, but the pain of great loss too.
'You're very lucky you know, to still have her in your life,' Minerva replied, a slightly pained expression on her face. There were times that she wished she hadn't been so ridiculous in holding out for the love of Dougal McGregor and for punishing herself for what she had done to him. She occasionally felt she should have moved on with her life as he had done his and married sooner, perhaps she could have had children of her own then; but Minerva wasn't they type of woman to dwell on dreams and "what-ifs" and as quick as the thought occurred, she soon brushed it away again.
'We are both lucky to have her in our lives. She thinks a great deal of you Minerva and without Jenny here to raise her, we both will be relying on your help and guidance.'
They had been words that had stuck with her for all these years and ones that she'd tried to take comfort in, but there were still days when she felt sure her grief would consume her. She missed Elphinstone greatly; she missed their long conversations, their walks around the lake together and most of all his love and company. In private, she still mourned his loss; however, as soon as she left the sanctuary of her private living quarters and study, the ridged mask of sternness would replace her pain, allowing no one to see the truth.
Brushing away the thoughts of Elphinstone from her mind, she forced herself to concentrate on the parchment in front of her once more. Looking down at Penny's handwriting, she noted how much like her grandmother's it was. It was small and very neatly joined, looping and flicking at exactly the right points. She smiled at how meticulously each sentence was written and how much time Penny had clearly spent on her work as she always did.
All in all Penny was proving herself a very accomplished witch, powerful and certainly one of the best students in her year if not the best. As head of Penny's house Minerva was getting nothing but good reports from all of her, Penny's, teachers, with almost top marks in each class. She was showing a particular aptitude for transfiguration, potions and defence against the dark arts and her enthusiasm for these classes was certainly showing. Not that Minerva had expected anything less; after all, Penny's grandmother had taught her these things since she was a young child. Wizarding law states it's not permitted for those under the age of eleven to be taught magic, or for those under seventeen to use it outside of school. However, Penelope never wanted her granddaughter to be left vulnerable to the evils that the wizarding world held, as experiences had taught her that evil didn't care for age or ability to get what they wanted.
Whilst Minerva had not necessarily agreed with her younger sister's methods and approach, she had understood why she had felt it necessary to teach Penny things way beyond her years; she, Minerva, could only imagine what it must be like to lose a child, surmising that the pain and anguish must be close to unbearable. Penelope was never the same after losing her daughter. She'd always been similar to her sister temperament, feisty and someone not to be trifled with, but she'd also had an incredible kindness and positive outlook on life. After the loss of Jenny, Penelope had become very angry and bitter and her grief had begun to consume her. Her granddaughter had barely been a couple of weeks old when her mother died and at first Penelope struggled with her; but Minerva had helped to bring her round and made her realise just how lucky she was to still have Penny in her life and that for hers and Jenny's sakes, she needed to be strong.
Minerva had always been quite invested in her great niece's life and had visited them often in their cottage on the west coast of Scotland. She allowed her mind to wander once more over these memories before she had to admit defeat. She knew she wasn't going to be able to concentrate. She gave another deep sigh and began to tidy the scrolls on her desk when she heard a gentle tapping on her door.
She walked across the room with large strides, watched closely and silently by the photographs of her family on her wall. She wrenched open the door to find her great niece standing forlornly on the other side, tears running down her cheeks. Minerva ushered her kindly into her study and Penny instinctively took one of the chairs by the lit fire, which had sprung into life as the evening became cooler. The room felt warm, inviting and safe to Penny as Minerva grabbed two glasses from a cabinet and poured a pumpkin juice for Penny and a large firewhiskey for herself. This had become a routine of theirs over the course of the school year, to spend time together in private, a particularly favourite pass time of Penny's.
Before Penny had started at Hogwarts both she and her Aunt Minerva had agreed to keep their relationship a secret, so that no student or teacher could accuse Minerva of favouritism or nepotism; not that Minerva ever would have favoured her great niece in any way. Whilst she may love Penny deeply and be very fond of her, she would never hesitate to punish her for any wrongdoing or offer her appropriate praise for doing well. If anything, she was sometimes a little harder on Penny than on the other students; not that she meant to be – but she knew that Penny had a real talent, and she didn't want to see her caught up in the usual class nonsense. There were plenty of arguments and messing about that some of her fellow students felt that they could get away with, and once or twice Penny had become embroiled in some of these.
She handed Penny her glass of juice and took the seat opposite her, sipping her drink whilst looking at the young girl, waiting for her to speak. She looked fragile this evening, with her pale skin and cheeks flushed with anger and upset. She sat for several minutes just sipping on her drink, until finally, after many minutes of silence, Penny began to explain what was troubling her.
'Sally-Ann Barton and her friends were teasing me because I was in the library studying. They said I was a teacher's pet and called me names and I tried to ignore them, honestly Aunt Minerva I really tried…but…' she panicked and floundered, afraid of the trouble she might get into, but also of herself.
'Go on Penny, what happened? I shan't be cross,' Minerva encouraged calmly and with an almost maternal tone as Penny struggled to comprehend her actions.
'I tried not to use my powers against them, just like you and Grams asked me not to, but when I left the library they followed me out into the corridor and knocked my books to the floor and ripped by bag. When I bent down to pick-up my stuff they'd bewitched my books to move away every time I made to grab them. They kept laughing at me, until I got so angry that I sent them flying when I lifted my hand,' she explained, sounding a little calmer than she had done when she'd first entered the room, but still very upset. 'I didn't look back to see if they were OK. I just picked up my things and ran. Why do these things keep happening to me Aunt Minerva? Why is it that I can make some things happen without the use of a wand, when no other student can?'
At first Minerva wasn't sure what was upsetting her great niece most - being constantly picked on by Sally-Ann Barton, a particularly nasty Slytherin first year, or the fact that, ever since birth, she seemed to possess certain powers that others could only dream of. One of the powers she'd developed in the last couple of years was the ability to move things with a stroke of her hand. It had been the first power that Minerva and Penelope had observed. At first, they had believed Penny's powers to be developing like any other wizarding child, and that she did things by accident when she was angry or scared, or feeling another particularly strong emotion just like any other child in their world, but soon it became apparent to them that this wasn't like any other magical accidents. As Penny got older, they began to notice that these "accidents" were becoming more frequent, so Penelope had started showing Penny how to channel her magic using a wand long before she started at Hogwarts, the vague hope that this would stop any mishaps at home, but it had no effect and her powers were starting to increase. This power was something that Penny possessed and could use at her own free will without the use of a wand. However, at the moment, she was desperately struggling to control it and when feeling angry particularly, just a simple hand gesture could turn into a disaster.
Whilst in potions one day, Snape had been in a particular bad mood with the Gryffindors since they had beaten Slytherin at Quidditch that weekend, and was making no qualms about belittling each of them for their attempts at a simple forgetfulness potion. Penny particularly annoyed him because she'd actually managed the potion to an exceptional standard and could find very little wrong with it. As we went to sweep passed her, he "accidently" knocked it off the workbench, sending her cauldron crashing to the floor and the contents spread everywhere. Snape looked at her with a simple 'oops' before he stalked off leaving her to mop up the mess. At the end of the lesson he gave them homework, twelve-inches of parchment on the forgetfulness potion and why each ingredient was important and the effect that they had on a witch or wizard. He then turned to Penny and gave her extra homework for her clumsiness, advising that he expected her in dungeons making another potion after school. When she'd angrily raised her hand in the air to object, her wand already back in her bag and no-where near her hand, all of Snape's vials, bottles and jars with various disgusting liquids inside, came flying off the shelf and onto the floor, earning a very distressed Penny a week's worth of detention. He'd had no proof that it was Penny who had caused it, but when he spoke to Minerva about Penny's disruptive behaviour in class, he'd certainly not received the response that he'd been hoping for.
More recently, Penny appeared to have "frozen" a whole class whilst in transfiguration. Minerva had been teaching them to transfigure mice into snuffboxes and had set them all the task of doing so. Penny had been sat in the middle of the class next to her friend Nymphadora Tonks, Tonks to her friends, from Hufflepuff. They had been doing reasonably well until Tonks' mouse tried to make a run for it and Penny had made a grab for it, just as it tried to make a jump off the table. Before Penny or Minerva could understand what was going on, the whole class had stopped - suspended in mid-motion, the mouse in mid-air as it hung between the table and the floor. The only two people not to be affected by this, but equally perplexed, were Penny and Minerva.
A few minutes later the room had become unfrozen and the class continued with their activities, none the wiser for their experience, but Penny had become somewhat subdued after this. From that moment on, Minerva had kept an even closer eye on her great niece and had tried incredibly hard to reassure her, but Penny was becoming increasingly frustrated with the situation and afraid of her own abilities.
'I don't know Penny why you can do these things,' she replied honestly. 'But I can assure you that your grandmother and I are looking into it. We've even enlisted Professor Dumbledore's assistance to…'
'You told Dumbledore?!' Penny exclaimed in horror.
'Yes I did!' Minerva replied sternly, 'and that's Professor Dumbledore to you young lady,' she added as she looked over the rim of her glasses.
'I'm sorry, it's just…well I don't want everyone to know I'm some sort of…of…well, freak!' Penny explained as a fresh set of tears rolled down her face.
Taking a kinder approach Minerva took a comforting hold of Penny's hand, her features even softer than before and said, 'Professor Dumbledore does not think you're a freak and neither does your grandmother nor myself. You're nothing of a sort; it's just something that we've not come across before. However, Professor Dumbledore knows our family history, who's to know that your powers aren't linked to the bloodline you come from? Have you ever stopped to think of that?' She said.
Penny looked up at her with red, watery eyes and shook her head slowly. Her cheeks were tear stained and she felt foolish for allowing herself to get into such a state. Normally she had no problem holding her emotions together, but recently she felt so uncertain about what was going on that she found it difficult.
She wasn't sure if she felt comfort or not with the knowledge that Dumbledore knew about her powers. Although he was aware that Penny was related to Minerva, Penny wasn't sure how much he knew about her personally. Although she needn't have worried, as Minerva had spoken of Penny often to Dumbledore and it was obvious to him that Minerva thought a great deal of the young girl. Penny may have forgotten the times during her early childhood when he'd played with her, but he certainly hadn't. He'd always known that there was something special about her.
He had always taken a keen interest in Penny's wellbeing and had assured Minerva that he would assist them both in finding out what this meant. He had also assured Minerva, one late night whilst they had sat beside her fire talking as they so often did, that he believed Penny's powers were nothing to fear, that he believed them to be signs of good things to come. It was with that thought that Minerva now chose her words carefully, as she looked into the frightened eyes of the child before her.
'Penny, I can't tell you what any of this means, for I don't know. I may know a great deal about many things but this certainly isn't one of them. However, Professor Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards of our time and he has seen and done more things than you and I can possibly imagine. He doesn't believe that what is happening to you is anything bad, if anything he says it's for great reasons.
'Sometimes things happen to us that no one can explain, but you just have to trust that there's a reason for everything.'
At these words, Penny gave a small smile and looked affectionately at her great aunt. 'You sound just like Grams; she's always saying things like that too.' She replied.
'And a wiser word she's never said,' Minerva replied also with a smile. 'Now come on, let's get you back to your dormitory. It'll soon be dark and I don't want anyone taking points of Gryffindor for a student being out after hours, especially not when we're so close to winning the House Cup this year.'
Penny laughed and allowed Minerva to usher her out of the room and escort her back to the Gryffindor common room. No further mention of what happened in the library was made. They chatted about Penny's revision for the end of year exams and how much, unbelievably, she was actually looking forward to them. Once Minerva had watched Penny disappear through the concealed entrance to Gryffindor tower, she returned to her study where she sat in quiet contemplation for a time. Penny went straight up to bed after saying goodnight to her aunt, and pulled the curtains round her. It didn't take long before she fell into a deep sleep, but she had quite a restful nights full of dark images and flashes of red.
