Chapter Four: Climate
"What do you mean cleansing? Cleansing of what?" Jez threw her arms up in the air. "He's using the muggles, why would he be strategically killing them off?" He brought his hands to his head and threw them out again, "You're mad. He just wants to make a statement."
Minerva looked casually across the Gryffindor common room, her attention being called to the conversation. She put her quill on her notebook, but otherwise pretended to be reading her potions book.
Gwen folded her arms and stepped forward, "A statement about what if it isn't the muggles? What is the point otherwise?"
"He's an evil bloke, it's what they do."
"Oh, and I suppose you've met hundreds of men trying to take over the world?"she put her hands on her hips.
"If he was TRYING TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD," he flapped his arms wildly, "HE WOULD HAVE DONE IT BY NOW!"
Minerva stood up and approached the two calmly.
"HOW?! He doesn't have the power to just up and tell the muggles that it's our Europe now. How would he d-"
"HE'S A WIZAAARD!"
The girl placed a hand on either of her friends. They both turned and looked at her with fiery eyes, then back at each other. "That doesn't mean he can just up and blow everyone to smithereens!" Jez hissed.
"Why not?!" Gwen's voice rose, "the muggles are doing it to themselves!"
Minerva cleared her throat, "This conversation needs to stop. If you want to FIGHT about things none of us know anything about, take it outside the common room."
Gwen's eyes were locked with Jez's, "Fine." She turned around and walked away like the spoiled brat she was, heel kick and all. Minerva watched as she made her way up the common room stairs to her dormitory, oblivious for the moment of the multitudes of swearing happening under Jez's breath.
Minerva hit his chest with the back of her hand after she had gone.
"What was that for?!" he brought his hand to where she struck.
The girl pursed her lips. He knew why. "You are a role model, Jez. You can't be getting into political arguments in the Gryffindor common room after hours!" her voice rose.
He crossed his arms, "She started it. Batty girl just wanted to get my blood boiling."
"So what?" She threw her arms to the side, "You shouldn't take her bait. You know she likes drama. Be better than that," she nodded with brazen encouragement.
Jez scratched his arm and nodded with embarrassment. "You don't think she's right, do you?"
Minerva blinked and clicked her tongue, "I'm not in a position to have opinions like that. What's happening outside these walls are beyond our control and when it all comes down to it, whatever we think isn't going to change the outcome. If you want to play grown-up, then go and fight. Otherwise," she nodded, "keep it to yourself."
"You don't think it's our business?" He folded his arms.
"I think," she leaned up to him with certainty in her eyes, "that your business as a student is to study and play quidditch. It IS after hours. Maybe you should sleep?"
"Better remove that broom, McGonagall," he grimaced as he started towards his set of dormitory stairs, "You'll need it for practice."
Minerva clicked her tongue as she watched him go up in a huff. If they weren't apt to kill each other first, she'd swear that Gwen and Jez were a match made in heaven. Not only were they both opinionated, but they were too proud to listen. Just keep it to yourselves, that's all she asked .
With a sigh, the girl looked around the Common Room at the other Gryffindors whose studies had been interrupted. She gave a nod to them and went back to her potions book.
Hardly had she read a full sentence before she decided that she had better not. It had been quite the full Sunday and there was no point staying up, especially if her heart was still racing.
After gathering her things, she made her way up the stairs until she reached her room. Lights were low, but not off. They didn't usually turn completely off until one or so-Helen was not only a procrastinator, but a bad one at that.
"How far have you gotten?" Minerva asked the girl kindly as she passed her bed by the door.
The mousy-haired girl looked up at Minerva sadly, "I've barely made a dent. Just four paragraphs."
"How long does it have to be?"
Helen gave a long sigh, "About eight times that...plus drawings. Merlin, I hate astronomy. Why did I take this class?"
"Because you love it," Minerva said gently, "You'll remember that after you've finished."
"I just wish it came more naturally to me. Like you and EVERYTHING."
The Head Girl chuckled, "You think that's true? There's a reason I dropped astronomy."
Helen rolled her eyes, "Right, to make room for transfiguration."
Minerva plopped her books on her bed, "That's not fair. I couldn't DROP transfiguration-my mother would have my head."
"So would Professor Dumbledore," a voice from the next bed over said. Minerva turned her head to see Gwen who was brushing her hair. "Still can't believe you didn't stay and gloat."
Minerva rolled her eyes.
"Gloat about what?" Helen walked over and sat on the edge of Gwen's bed with interest, clearly looking for a distraction.
"Nothing," Minerva clicked her tongue.
"Come off it. Professor Dumbledore starts up class and we're all in awful moods because we've been working on papers all night-this is Friday-and he asks us how we thought we did. Minerva says that she thought it was easy-which it was NOT-and when no one else agrees, he sends us out! He tells Minerva that she can stay because she said what he wanted to hear, but she goes with us, anyway. I just don't get it."
"First of all, I'm not going to lie to him. I thought it was easy. Second" the Head Girl tapped two fingers against her opposite hand, "I'm not going to stay when everyone has been dismissed. That's uncomfortable."
"I'd have stayed just to look at Professor Dumbledore," Helen giggled.
Minerva couldn't help but crack a small smile. This was the joke, wasn't it? Gwen grinned as well, "I love the thing he has going on here," she ran her fingers demonstratively from either side of her head from her ears to her chin. "So attractive!"
Helen giggled again.
Minerva rolled her eyes, "Yes, it's very attractive," she spoke dismissively. She didn't have time for this. He was a professor-and while she did not disagree with them, she saw no point in fantasizing about anything that was implausible. At least when they talked about boys in their year it made sense.
Minerva placed her things gently onto the bookshelf beside her bed while the other two girls continued to gush, occasionally allowing her mind to pick up on keywords, including 'fetching', 'short skirt', and 'cock'. She chose to ignore it even though it was wildly inappropriate only because they were in their private dormitory. Moreover, it was amazing the things one learned from hormonal teens. If nothing else, Minerva gained her own vocabulary of sexual jargon from them-Merlin knows she wouldn't be getting it from anywhere else.
"I dare you," Helen giggled.
Minerva looked over from her neat shelf at them, her ears having perked up. "What are you daring her to do?"
Gwen glowed, "Send Professor Dumbledore an anonymous," she ran her brush through her golden hair, "letter of interest."
She inhaled and exhaled slowly, knowing full well that it was an awful idea, but nodded, "Just don't use your normal handwriting. Print or...something."
"Oh I'll do...something," the girl giggled mischievously.
Minerva gave her a judgmental look for the second time that night, "I know flirting is your best subject, but don't do anything stupid."
"It's not as though you're going to tattle on me," Gwen said as she placed her brush beside her bed. She then proceeded to dig through her unkempt drawers for something to wear to bed.
The Head Girl felt very much inclined to challenge her on that score; terrible assumption. Her well-embedded morals came first... Or at least she would think twice about not saying anything should Gwen go very much out of line as she was inclined to do. It wasn't all just harmless fun.
Minerva, too, opened her nightgown drawer and pulled out a neatly folded wad of white and turned her back to the other girls as she started undressing.
It was strange, how vulnerable she really seemed to feel half-naked, even in a room of females. It was not any sort of inadequacy-Minerva knew after years of studying herself in a mirror that she was quite pretty-the problem was that she knew that she was not the same as her fellow Gryffindors. Whereas they had warm memories of snogging and boys going just a little too far, Minerva had hardly kissed anyone. She took no shame in this by any means (teenage boys were such idiots and let their hormones control their every move), but it did make her different. Minerva had never really wanted any boy the way she was supposed to and for some reason, she felt that her body betrayed her in this way.
The cotton gown clung snugly to her breasts and flowed out nicely below after it slid onto her shoulders. She smiled softly to herself, aware of how much more comfortable it felt to be wearing something again.
She flipped over her covers and crawled into bed. Her eyes scanned the stone ceiling before she placed a pillow on her head to block out the light. Bedtime. Bed. Time. Time for sleep. Time to close your eyes and drift away.
Minerva's fingers twitched at either side of her body. She turned her head towards Gwen who was going through her stockings, looking for holes. The Head Girl turned the other way and glanced at Helen who appeared to have picked up an old fashion magazine. Stupid; Minerva rolled her eyes. If she'd only just do it, all three of them could sleep. Instead, Minerva was stuck with a pillow over her head and an inability to find slumber.
She rolled onto her back and threw her arms above her head. Her pose did not change in an effort to find the prized Slumberland.
Perhaps she did find sleep momentarily, but the waves were interrupted by her dorm-mates' voices.
"Are you going to meet him tonight, Gwen?"
"I don't think so," her voice came absent-mindedly, "He was being an arse earlier. I shouldn't reward him for bad behavior."
Min blinked and then decided it wasn't worth worrying over. Gwen was a tart of a seventeen year-old if ever there was one.
The drinking water was having a good day, Minerva nodded with approval and put her glass back on the table before moving on to the eggs that were not eggs. They were less impressive. By her sixth bite she had to wash them down with water. Oh well, one did what one had to do.
Looked like it was going to be sunny today according to the ceiling, thank Merlin. At least the classrooms would have a bit of happy light in them, even if that's where she was stuck all day. A smile fell on her face out of optimism.
Minerva looked over her shoulder as she watched Jez pass her and take a seat beside her. He nodded politely and put a hand on her shoulder, "Sorry if I was rude last night." The boy started piling the lie that was eggs onto his plate.
She shook her head as she watched him do it in slight disgust, "It's forgotten."
He cleared his throat, "I didn't mean it. About the broom. You were just doing your job and I know that. I don't want things to get strange between us."
Minerva's eyes lifted up to look at his and nodded with wide eyes, "It's forgotten, Jez."
"You say that," he shoveled lie-eggs into his mouth, "but you've made me pay before for stupid things I've said."
A deep sigh of frustration. She really had nearly forgotten about that and now the urge to hit him was quickly returning. Her voice was calm, "Jez,"she nodded, "it. is. forgotten. Eat your eggs. You'll be late for class if you don't."
He did as he was told but continued speaking with a full mouth, "These eggs are rubbish!"
"Have some toast. At least we know that's real." The girl tapped her thigh anxiously and unconsciously.
He cocked his head to the side as if trying to make sense of what she'd just said. Another heap of yellow protein found its way into his mouth, "Course these are real. I'm eating them." He reached out for a piece of toast anyway.
A slow nod. Better not tell him. The girl's lips twitched down and then up once she realized what she was doing. "Try some salt. It helps," her voice came out in a pleasant tone that did not belong to her.
She reached down for her bag which was the heaviest it ever was-Monday was her busy day, containing Charms, History of Magic, and double Potions with the day closing off with quidditch. At least she liked school, at least she liked learning-otherwise it would be far too much. She threw the bag over her shoulder and stood up in an effort to get away.
"You off, then?"
Minerva nodded, "I am. I'll see you in class later," she shot him a nice smile and turned quickly in the direction of the doors. Her walk was quicker than normal, powered by the strong desire to get the hell away from the sub-par food and sub-par company.
Jez's heart was in the right place, she knew, and he could have been worth chancing, but he wasn't for her. When the right one came, she would know it. He wasn't at the school-that was for certain. And if he had been, he was out fighting in the war. There were only so many choices and none of them appealed to Minerva.
It was better that way, she reminded herself-she was in school to learn, not romance or be romanced. In another nine months she would be free of Hogwarts and go somewhere far away, somewhere other than Europe. She would make a name for herself. She was better than everyone else, just hopelessly stuck with adolescents and determined to prove it.
Maybe once the war was over (both magical and muggle) she would return to Europe and fall in love with someone special. Minerva could wait for the right one. She was patient. Still, it didn't stop the part of her that was still very young from wanting the opportunity to fall in love. She wished it was that easy.
The girl took special note of the way the sun seemed to bleed into the corridors as she made her way to Charms. It was nice to get a few good days in-she was tired of the fog that seemed to have been amplified since the muggles started blowing up their countryside and cities. It was a glorious change.
She stopped just outside the classroom and looked onto the lake with a soft smile, enjoying the slight heat that hit her face through the window. It was a lovely day out with the water shimmering in the sun; beautiful blue.
"Miss McGonagall, could I convince you to open the door for me?"
Minerva turned and nodded to Professor MacFadyen who had a particularly large box of something particularly heavy in his arms. She rushed over to the door to push it open and held it for the man.
He dropped the box on his desk with a thud and let out a sigh of relief as he breathed hunched over it.
The man didn't look well. "Can I get you anything, Professor? Water?" Minerva furrowed her brow, unsure of what to do.
The 80-odd-year-old Professor put out a hand and moved his head in the negative, "It's fine, I'm just exhausted from that trek. Next time I'll just," he inhaled deeply and stood upright, "I'll just keep switching spells to get it up here. Merlin," he stretched out his arms, "It's only two floors! You'd think I could make it that far!" he waved his arms.
MacFadyen reached around his desk and took out a letter opener with frustration, which he promptly used to open the box. He looked up to Minerva who had not moved out of concern. "Take a seat Miss McGonagall. Thank you," he nodded kindly to Minerva.
She bobbed her head and sped to take a seat in the front. The girl took no time in taking out her quill, ink and book. Ready.
A slow tap on her shoulder sent a shock through the girl's system which caused her to jump a wee bit. Her head shot to see where the contact came from.
"Have an extra quill?" a deep voice said.
Minerva turned more, unable to place the voice, and was the slightest bit surprised to see Heinrich who rarely spoke to anyone, much less someone who wasn't in his House.
"Of course." She smiled softly and began rummaging through her bag. Her hands carefully slid over her quill pouch and pulled out a plain black quill. 'I do,' she enunciated as she handed it to him high-spiritedly.
The boy took it gratefully, "Sorry about this. Someone is probably playing a joke on me. I'm very grateful."
"It's no problem at all," she shook her head.
Heinrich nodded, "I'll return it after class. Thanks again." Without dallying, the boy walked up to his seat in the back where he no doubt felt the most invisible. Minerva watched him on his way and gave an encouraging nod when he looked back down at her.
It was nice to see him smile back.
Minerva turned back to her things, though her mind was not on them. His words ran repeatedly through her mind. Someone was likely to be playing a joke on him, but it was probably not very good-natured. She sighed. She wouldn't want German blood in her for anything-not now, not with all the hatred in the country.
The girl made a mental note to keep an eye on Heinrich.
Why would she be named Head Girl if she wasn't going to use her power?
R&R SVP