Chapter 2: McGonagall's Challenge

*o*O*o*

In the evening hours during late-April 1989…

"Professor, I must confess that I just don't know what to do. My sister had other children… children without powers. I am loathe, however, to place her in such a home. My brothers are gone now and neither of my other nieces are suitable. You know how harshly the Catholic Church in either country deals with witchcraft. And my non-magical family is Protestant. To say nothing of her Irish-"

"Of course, Minerva, and with little Charliegh being so tender right now-"

"I should be able to resume my duties as both teacher and as your assistant at the start of the new term. Or I might reopen the cottage- - in which case I could assist you upon occasion as soon as the summer term finishes. Although not for long, for the child is extremely bright and extremely inquisitive and you and I both know the dangers of leaving such a child unattended for long periods of time-"

"Say no more, Minnie. She is a delight as such but I do understand your point. Tell me, do you relish reopening the cottage and living there? I had thought you rather comfortable here."

The witch ducked her face and when she lifted it again to meet his eyes the haughty expression was firmly fixed.

"I will do what I must, Albus. The child needs a home and I am the only other member of our line who can give her a proper, magical upbringing. I had, in fact, intended to offer the cottage to her upon her completion of her schooling. I believe Hogsmeade is likely to suit her very well."

"I would agree completely. I only wondered this- - might you want to bring her here instead? She would have a home, a family here who would understand her, and no one could argue that magic is appreciated here above all else."

"Albus?" McGonagall gasped. "Bring her here with me next fall? Permanently?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I don't see why not. It wouldn't work in just any situation, but it seems silly when you and she could very easily rub on here. And I don't see why the situation can't be remedied immediately. Space could be made for her in rooms adjoining yours and she'd not lack for attention. Indeed she'd have all of us to check in on her. Certainly we can manage a ten-year-old girl's studies reasonably well, thus saving me having to find a replacement for you for the remainder of the term."

"But-"

"It would be one thing, I think, if you intended to give up teaching forever and join her in her muggle home, but the child would be arriving by train in just a few months anyway… Why not?"

Minerva McGonagall found herself in the rare situation of not knowing what to say. Dumbledore reached out and put his arm around her shoulders, directing her footsteps back toward her own study where he'd interrupted her hastily throwing a few things into bags to take back for the funeral.

"I understand that being magic in a Muggle family is difficult. I believe that being non-magic in one of our families must be even harder. Do not blame your nieces and nephews for turning their backs on the wizarding world, Minerva. At least Charliegh's mother recognized her for what she was and loved her still. And allowed you considerable freedom to come and go in the child's life. She isn't starting over with strangers here. She will be quite as loved and adored as she was in her childhood home."

"Thank you so much, Headmaster," the distraught woman gushed.

"Nonsense. I rather admire you for standing for her all these years. I understand that she is your youngest sister's grandchild, yes?"

"Yes."

He nodded sagely. "I will make what arrangements I can for her rooms in your absence. I trust she'll have some of her own things that she'll want in her rooms here. And things of her mother's and father's will need to be taken care of before your return?"

She agreed, recognizing the task that lay before her. "Some of it can be dealt with almost immediately. Some must wait for Muggle conventions. If you'll agree, I will allow her to bring most of her personal items here to my study for the time being. I'll ask Hagrid to open the cottage anyway- - it'll be ideal for storing any items of her mother and father's that she wants to keep until such time when she is old enough to decide what she wants for herself."

"Wise, very wise. I'll leave you now so that you can hasten your return to the poor child."

He turned to leave, his hands folded together at his waist and a sad expression on his face as he contemplated the happy, joyous girl he'd very much enjoyed getting to know over the years. How heartbraking that she now dealt with the tragedy of losing both her mother and her father in an automobile accident.

"Thank you so much," McGonagall whispered through the thickness in her throat before he was out of earshot.

"Of course," he turned. "And, Minerva?" When she looked up at him again he smiled. "There are worse things in the world than being half Irish."

This made her arch a brow. "And what might that be, professor?"

A twinkle of mischeviousness crossed his face. "Being half Scot!" he laughed as he let himself out.

- Three Weeks Later -

"Student out of classes? And where should you be right now, girlie? Certainly not hiding up here!"

"Shove off, Peeves," the thin voice countered.

She huddled more closely to the railing of the balcony overlooking the extensive grounds. She could see the lake and hear the geese that had landed there. She'd been seeking someplace that wouldn't erupt with noise and motion every time classes changed. Somewhere- - somewhere without walls- - where she could escape for long enough to think.

Now there was a stupid ghost hounding her.

"Students should be in class," he reminded her. "There are rules and regulations here. Is that Filch? Ohhh. He'd just love to catch one of the filthy students ducking classwork this close to finals!" The ghost zoomed and swept around her, going in and out of the wall against which she rested.

"I'm not a student," she argued, turning and pressing her hands over her ears when he let off a high pitched wail. "I told you to leave me alone!"

Giving up, she ran for the door, wrenching it open to run back down the stairs. The poltergeist wouldn't enter a teacher's quarters, so she was stuck back in her rooms again. Peeves trailed behind her, taunting her for trying to escape him. When that didn't work he sent a suit of armor crashing down just in front of her, only to swing a portrait (empty of its current resident) out of the wall at her when she turned to try to go the other direction.

Which coincided nicely with the next change of classes, so there were bodies rushing the corridor as she turned to try to find a new egress. And there were faces staring at her.

Most everyone in the school knew her now, thanks in part to the fact that Dumbledore had announced Professor McGonagall's loss and the fact that he expected her students to treat her well upon her return. And warned them not to be surprised to see an extra face at the head table upon that return. Although he'd not explained the exact loss or the circumstances under which she'd be returning. Or that the face accompanying her would be that of a younger child. Several students recognized the girl from her presence at various matches. And most of the faculty had been vocally supportive of the compromise Dumbledore had suggested. Even Snape had only commented that, "Really, what else was there to be done in the situation?"

So now they stared, thinking that it was she who had knocked over the armour and created the ruckus.

So she ran.

Finally, down unknown corridors and both up and down flights of stairs she found quiet. Folding in on herself she buried her face in her hands and cried.

"There, now," a voice called to her. She thought it a ghost or portrait until she felt the warm body drop down to sit beside her. "It's not all that bad." An arm came around her, turning her toward's the body's shoulder.

"Ai," said the matching voice. "If an empty tin can gets tipped there's no harm and no reason for tears." He dropped to sit with his back against the wall just above them.

"I didn't do it," she sobbed against Fred's chest. George reached down to rub her arm and he awkwardly patted her back. "It was Peeves."

"Peeves, huh? Up to his normal tricks."

"You mustn't mind him. It's best all around to ignore him."

"Unless you've a bit of goods on him."

"Then you should vex him all you like!" George finished.

Charliegh sat up and wiped at her cheeks. "He wouldn't leave me be. He threatened to fetch Filch, but I'd done nothing. I tried to tell him I didn't have to be in class."

Fred nodded down at the face. He'd quite liked her when they'd met before. He'd not seen her smile much since.

"We've never had a student here who wasn't actually a student here before," he explained. "Likely he didn't believe you."

"But I'm not in uniform or robes or anything!" she objected.

George shrugged and tucked a sweaty piece of bang away from her forehead. She reminded him of their sister when Ron had confounded her. "Might as well be," he explained. Her gymslip might not be the exact grey of their sweaters, and it had a rounded neck under which she wore a pale yellow blouse with puffed sleeves, but he doubted that the ghost had taken uniform restrictions into consideration before rousing the girl. "I doubt ghosts are very fashion-conscious. He saw a girl in a grey skirt and tights and thought you'd be better off in the lower levels with your own class."

"Where were you?" Fred asked.

Charliegh shrugged. "On the balcony. Close to Ravenclaw tower, I suppose."

"McGonagall's going to flip straight out when she hears he's bothered you."

George stuck out his hand. "Do you remember me? I'm George Weasley. Charlie Weasley's brother."

"I'm Fred, if you don't remember my name it's fine. I'm the better looking twin, so that's how you can tell us apart."

Charliegh let out a little half-laugh and shook both hands. "I do remember you. We had ever so much fun that day. It's a shame the points didn't work out in the end. Slytherin truly did have a superior team this year, though. And there's always the Hufflepuff/Slytherin match coming up, so we're not totally out of the running for the cup yet."

The boys stayed with her, discussing Quidditch and then possible punishments for Peeves until she was a good bit calmer and the hallways themselves were quiet and still. They took her right up to the door to McGonagall's study before bidding her farewell. The little girl was quite the topic of conversation in their dorm after dinner that night.

-..-..-

At a noontime meal that weekend Fred watched Professor Snape stop beside the end of the table where Charleigh sat next to Professor McGonagall. He couldn't tell what the man said, but he saw the girl smile the small, company smile she'd used since apparently joining the school's staff. He'd written his mother and father to see if they'd share any news, but so far no response. Snape's hand patted the girl's, then he patted Professor McGonagall's shoulder as he passed her.

"Betcha she's lonely up there," Fred noted.

He didn't relate the kindness he'd just seen from the hated Potions professor.

"Hmm," George considered, following his gaze. "Probably so, although she seems to get along with all the teachers."

"Be hard to sit up there every day, though, and watch us down here."

"Having fun and laughing and all. You're quite right."

Lee was following their conversation. "Wish she could come sit with us. I liked her. Impertinent little brat."

Fred nodded. "She's tender right now, though."
"Fred and I found her crying in a hallway t'other day."

"Wonder if she'd fancy coming up to the common room to hang out one evening."

"Might be easier to get McGonagall to agree to let her sit down here for meals, first, Freddie."

Another series of nods. "Right you are. Start small and build up."

"Next term she'll be here anyway," George mused.

"So there's really no harm in setting her up with our gang now. Yes?"

They grinned happily across the table at each other and as one jumped from their places.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley? Mr. Weasley?"

"May Charleigh come sit with us?" Fred asked.

"She might like to spend some time with some children her own age…" George suggested.

"And we'd take care of her," Fred assured the matronly teacher. He gestured toward the Gryffindor table. "We're sitting by our brothers."

"We could introduce her to Charlie," George added.

The little girl's face had borne a cautious smile until those words. Now her head jerked so that her aunt could take in her hopeful expression.

McGonagall turned to Dumbledore, who smiled kindly.

"I rather think the child would enjoy it," he said. "I've certainly no objection to her spending meals at any of the house tables or here with us- - or a mixture of them all."

"Thank you, sir," Fred enthused.

George beat him to Dumbledore and shook his hand exuberantly. "Thank you most kindly, sir!"

"C'mon, then, Charleigh Grace," Fred told her, gesturing with this fingertips.

"You can be a Gryffindor Lion for the lunch period," his brother finished.

"Behave yourself, McDougal," McGonagall warned in a quiet tone.

"Quite right, McGonagall," the little girl agreed in profound tones, nodding sharply and dropping into a quick curtsy.