A/N Many thanks go to MinnieKat for reviewing the first chapter, I know it's only been up for a day but I'm hoping after this one I'll get some more reviews, please pretty please! They do brighten my day. Going on holiday until Monday from tomorrow so the next chapter won't be up quite as quickly, but I hope to have it written while I'm away!
I don't own Harry Potter, in case you hadn't guessed.
Minerva marched purposefully towards the Great Hall. She was not in any haste to get to this meal, and would have avoided it altogether if it weren't for the fact that every teacher and student was now required to show their face at dinner, but she felt she must not let her strictness slip –if she appeared at all listless, her students would pick up on it and lose a little bit more hope. The school was unpleasantly reminiscent of a prison these days; the compulsory attendance of meals (excused by Snape as "a good diet is essential to the health and happiness of a child, therefore as Headmaster I shall be ensuring that all students eat a good meal three times a day") was not the only extra security measure that had been taken – Heads of Houses were required to take a register in the common room each night, and students had to sign in and out of places such as the library and the hospital wing. Hogwarts had always had rules, they were necessary, but this complete mistrust of the students and desire to know where in the school they were at all times was, in Minerva's opinion, an over the top, unwelcome change. She intended to remain as she always had, and as long as some people continued to do that, there was still some Hogwarts left.
Entering the great hall, Minerva allowed her eyes to sweep the room, focusing in particular on her Gryffindors, checking that all was well. Everyone was quieter than usual; spirits had been low all year and the fact that it was almost exam time had made people even more tired and less likely to be chatting. As she approached the staff table, she noticed that Snape was sitting in between his two deputies, as always, but rather than their usual self-satisfied sneering and smirking, the three were talking in low voices and seemed annoyed by the slight disturbance caused by Minerva taking her seat between Madam Pomfrey and Alecto.
"Alecto," Minerva greeted curtly. She would not let her manners slip.
"Shut up," snapped Alecto in reply, turning back to her brother and Snape. Minerva raised an eyebrow and turned to Poppy, who answered her unspoken question immediately.
"They've been like that for the last twenty minutes," she whispered, "I couldn't catch quite what they're saying but they mentioned Gringotts and something about You Know Who being very angry. Why are you so late, anyway?" she added, fixing Minerva with a stern look.
"Oh, I lost track of time marking," she replied vaguely, more interested in what Snape and the Carrows were saying. Poppy seemed to realise that engaging her in further conversation would be pointless, and turned instead to talk to Pomona Sprout, leaving Minerva free to eavesdrop while pretending to be concentrating on her steak. She was slightly more successful than Poppy had been, given that she was sitting closer and had very acute hearing, thanks to long hours she had spent in the form of a cat.
"… Rather them than me," Amycus was saying, with the half-scared, half-smug look of a child watching somebody else being told off. "What was in the vault that concerned the Dark Lord, anyway? Wouldn't have thought he'd be so angry on Bellatrix's behalf…"
"I do not know," replied Snape, looking worried, "though he is not only furious but very agitated that it has gone missing. This bodes ill; I fear we may all suffer his wrath if he does not recover it."
At this point Minerva realised she had had her fork halfway to her mouth for about a minute. Hastily gulping down her forkful, she toyed with her vegetables, thinking about what she had just heard. Clearly Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts had been broken into… 'Worrying within itself,' she thought, wondering if Gringotts' security was not as tight as it used to be. However, Snape's words rang in her head… 'This bodes ill'… It was odd that the evening she had instinctively felt that something was happening, this major break-in had occurred. What worried Minerva the most was the fact that the feeling had not yet left her; in fact she thought this might only be the tip of the iceberg.
Deciding that she couldn't eat any more and wanting to escape to her office with her thoughts, she surreptitiously Vanished the food from her plate, murmured an excuse to Poppy and left, this time allowing herself to wander up the stairs, as everyone was still at dinner.
When Minerva entered her office, she found herself glancing towards the empty space on a shelf where the Quidditch cup had sat for so long. Needless to say, Slytherin had won this year, due to the strange coincidence that other Houses' players seemed to be in detention with the Carrows a lot during training sessions. Minerva sighed, thinking of the injustice of it all. Children being unished for wanting to play Quidditch... It was sick. She thought of another player who had been unable to play for a while, unfairly. 'I did warn him not to lose his temper with Dolores Umbridge,' she thought, slightly frustrated with his hot-headedness, but mainly fondly. And as Minerva sat at her desk, she allowed herself to think of Harry for more than a few seconds for the first time in months. She wondered where he was now… She felt sure that he was still alive, knowing that Voldemort would want everyone to know in order to squash their morale if he were dead. Minerva knew that Harry was tough; he'd suffered an abusive childhood, which she still felt guilty about not trying harder to save him from. He'd suffered the loss of many people close to him, he'd faced horrific violence and been an inch from death more times than she cared to count, and yet through all of it he'd remained loving, faithful and brave. 'He has his mother's personality,' Minerva thought, smiling through her tears, 'and he also has his friends,' she reminded herself firmly. Ron and Hermione would be a great help and comfort to Harry, as they had always been, through whatever mission he was doing, she was sure of it. Hermione was very clever, she mused – Minerva felt lucky to have been her Head of House, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she remembered Filius' frequent complaints that the Sorting Hat must have got confused. With a start, she realised that dinner had been over for a while now and it was time for her to go and register her Gryffindors.
Minerva immediately grew suspicious again as she strode into the Gryffindor common room, feeling as if people knew something she didn't, much as when she entered the Great Hall for dinner. The atmosphere had been curious, buzzing with gossip, when she entered; they had fallen silent slightly too quickly, and she noted that a few seemed to be reading books upside down about subjects they didn't do, as if they had simply grabbed the closest thing to hand and pretended to be absorbed in it as opposed to being seen talking.
"Really now," Minerva exclaimed, looking round the common room, "I wasn't born yesterday. Will somebody please tell me why you are all gossiping like it's a meeting of the Witches' Institute?"
Nobody said anything for a few seconds, all glancing to their neighbour as if saying, 'you tell her.' Then Colin Creevey stepped forward, his eyes shining with excitement and something else, which Minerva, slightly bewildered, identified as apprehension.
"Professor, everyone's saying that… That…" He faltered, looking around the room for encouragement.
"That what, Mr Creevey?" McGonagall prompted, trying to be gentle but not managing to conceal her impatience.
"That-Harry-Potter-Ron-Weasley-and-Hermione-Granger-broke-into-Gringotts-and-escaped-on-a-dragon" Colin finished, all in one breath.
"What nonsense!" Minerva scoffed, although she felt her face whiten and her hands shook a little, "I suggest you all stop spreading rumours and concentrate on your upcoming exams." She added, glaring around the room in typical McGonagall fashion. Colin Creevey scuttled nervously back to his seat, and she felt a bit guilty.
"Thank you for telling me," she said more kindly, "but I really do think it sounds a very unlikely story, and I'm sure I would have heard about it from the staff if it were true." She wondered at this point whom she was trying to reassure, them or herself. She didn't like to think the danger Harry, Ron and Hermione would be in if it were true that they had stolen from Bellatrix's vault.
After quickly registering the students and bidding them goodnight, Minerva bustled from the portrait hole and returned to her office. It was only 8 o clock, but she did not feel she could get any more work done tonight, and instead poured herself a Firewhiskey and settled down on the sofa in her quarters, back to thinking about Harry. As she sipped her drink, a sudden memory came to her of words Dumbledore had uttered after he thought she had left on Halloween 1981.
'Good luck, Harry Potter' he had said, gazing towards the bundle of blankets on the doorstep of number 4, Privet Drive. 'If this absurd rumour is true', she thought uneasily, 'he'll need that now, more than ever.'