Use me as you will
Pull my strings just for a thrill
And I know I'll be okay
Though my skies are turning gray
A/N:
~Good News: I'm done with giant papers for the rest of this school year! Woo! May 15th seems to be taking it's sweet time, taunting me... but like a few characters are taunting you all ;)
~All of your patience through this past month has been wonderful, thank you! The same goes for Em and Spin, you ladies are amazing; putting up with 7-11k length chapters nearly every week.
Chapter 24 - Unexpected Gifts
September 11th 1942:
"It's good to have you back, Professor."
"Professor, it's good to see you again."
"-very glad you're alright-"
"What ever happened?"
"Did you really fight the Untergang?"
"Tell us all about it!"
Professor Merrythought was awfully glad that her first year class was over and done with. Children will be children, and curious as they come. She couldn't be mad at them for their questions, but nevertheless, she was very tired of hearing the same bombardment from her students for the second day in a row. Yesterday had been her first full day 'back', although it should have been on the ninth, she reasoned. Helena had been persistent about her resting to full health for another day, and Galatea wasn't going to protest anything which the Matron said about her health. The woman had enough stress as it was, and knowing that she had not exactly helped in that regard wasn't exactly something the elder witch was very proud of.
Helena had informed her about Poppy overhearing the conversation between herself and Isobel, even informing her that Slughorn was in contact with Mrs McGonagall. Galatea wasn't worried, though. Horace, bless his soul, could be very dense sometimes. He had no idea that the Untergang was after Minerva. None of the Staff did, except for those involved yesterday- and of course, the Headmaster -which all-in-all, was perfect. Simply perfect.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor looked at the clock and smiled. Minerva would be here soon; they had talked last night, coming to an agreement of this time to simply meet and talk. There were days when Galatea would wake up and feel the need to pinch herself in the morning after a conversation with the girl through their mirrors. The woman honestly could not believe she had the opportunity to rekindle a relationship with Minerva, to take the love she had all along, to redefine it into something that made them both happy, and she'd be damned if she abandoned that love again- no matter how intolerable Isobel became.
While it had been many years ago, Galatea had made a personal vow to help and protect the young Gryffindor- that included preserving the secrecy regarding the lone event that she and Isobel agreed should be kept-constantly weighed on her mind. Part of her wished that she had never told the girl's mother, and that eventually the anguished burden would die with her. If only it was that simple. Galatea was no fool, she knew Minerva was a smart young woman and was slowly gleaning bits of information to pique her curiosity. She had, and would continue still, to ask questions; ones that the elder witch simply could not answer.
There was a small creak from the door that announced a visitor, yet, when the she looked towards the entrance she didn't see the Gryffindor witch she had been expecting. Instead, a small, round, grey feline face popped into the room. The cat's large emerald eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. She looked up at the woman, blinked a smile, then waltzed her way in. Galatea didn't need to guess who it was, she had memorized this particular cat since the moment she laid eyes on it years ago. It hadn't been too difficult, mind you, Minerva's feline form was very beautiful. Her tabby markings were intricate, weaving a pattern almost as complicated as the girl's family.
When the Animagus neared the professor's desk, she smoothly transformed back.
"Good evening, Professor." The green-eyed witch smiled. The elder witch nodded in return, nonchalantly waving her hand to close the classroom door before she embraced the young woman. Galatea took a moment, purely to thank whatever Gods which were protecting the girl in her arms. There had been so many incidents where such a simple gesture might have never been possible. She'd been thinking about that a lot lately.
Galatea kissed the top of Minerva's head. The young witch was almost as tall as she by now, come next year she might be the same height, if not taller. It was just another reminder of how little Galatea had been involved in the girl's life.
"Good evening, child." Her crystal blue eyes sparkled without any sign of her previous injuries, showing of perfect health despite her age or previous battles.
"Is everything alright?"
The elder witch smirked. She should have known Minerva would have picked up on her thoughts. It was something Isobel had always been able to do.
"Oh yes, I was just thinking about how much you have grown since you first entered these halls."
Minerva rolled her eyes, a light blush appearing on her cheeks; she still wasn't used to this, the mother-like attention. Sometimes she'd wake up and think it was all a dream, that Galatea wasn't in her life at all. Their relationship had started simply as mentor and pupil, except now it was something closer to grandmother and granddaughter- not that Minerva was complaining. She liked it, but granted, she didn't understand as of why the woman cared so much when Isobel was continuing to push her away. Maybe that was it, though; the connection, the reason they were able to bond so well with each other. The price of her mother's emotional abandonment brought them together. Or maybe it was a strategic move on Galatea's part? But then again, love doesn't ask why, it just happens, right? Whatever her reasons where, it didn't entirely matter. She loved the woman and there was nothing that either of them could say, or do, to change that.
"Well, I should hope so. I was only eleven, almost twelve actually."
The elder witch chuckled. "You have a point. Come, we should talk."
They walked into the professor's office. It was set up similar to an old Edinburgh home- something Minerva always enjoyed -and while similar to the Manor, it was without the dreadful, eerie, prison feel.
"I seem to remember you wanting to learn how to conduct a Patronus message and that I agreed to teach you not only that, but a few other things as well." Galatea couldn't help but notice the sparkle in Minerva's green eyes at the mention of resuming lessons together once more. "Now, I know you are busy, and that the Time-Turner can be a bit of a menace, which is why I shall only be conducting these lessons every so often. Maybe every two weeks, or so."
They could have easily talked about this over the mirror, but it gave them an excuse to see each other and to talk one-on-one, and not to mention a chance for them to seek some sort of closure from last week's ordeal.
Minerva nodded her approval. "What date suits you best?"
"I was thinking sometime next week, to allow me a grace period to settle in again. Next Thursday at eight perhaps? It should be near dark around that time, perfect for you to sneak around undetected."
The young witch could not help but chuckle, although when her professor gave her a puzzled look, she laughed.
"What, may I ask, do you find so amusing, child?"
"The irony of this! You, the esteemed, strict, ex-Auror, Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and Head of Ravenclaw House, is giving a student permission to sneak around the castle at night!"
The elder witch rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Oh please, it is not as if it's after curfew."
"You still can't deny the irony of it all," she said, still wearing a very amused grin. Galatea huffed, then pursed her lips, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to betray her. It didn't work very well.
"Oh, I give up." The woman chuckled as her smile broke free, then wrapped her arms around the young woman while pulling both of them down to sit on the sofa. "Yes, yes, it is ironic. Quite ironic indeed!"
Minerva giggled. "I wonder, what would your all students think if they got wind of this?"
The elder witch's eyes widened, the humor still evident. "You would not dare..."
"Maybe, maybe not." The younger witch flashed a wickedly mischievous smile.
"Oh, Goodness, what have I done? I think I might have brought out a Slytherin side in you which the Sorting Hat never saw!" Galatea chuckled softly once more, then tapped the Gryffindor on the nose. "Who would have thought? After forty-two years of earning the title of 'strictest professor', it could all be ruined by the Miss Minerva Margaret McGonagall," she tapped the girl on the nose, "who is by far the most intellectual, caring, wonderful and incredibly talented young witch I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, as well as training."
The woman kissed Minerva's forehead, once more truly at peace with her life- well, at least regarding her precious green-eyed Gryffindor, who was simply content with being in the arms of her beloved professor.
"You really mean that?"
It wasn't really a question, more like an indication of the younger witch's emotional doubt towards relationships as a whole, and it had been spoken so quietly that Galatea almost thought Minerva hadn't said anything. It didn't keep the shock from her face from appearing any less, however.
"Of course I do, darling. Why ever would you think otherwise?" The moment the elder witch said those words, she regretted them, and sighed. Gently, she tilted the girl's chin up, forcing her to meet her gaze, then smiled sadly. "I meant every word that I said, every single one. You are so very special, dear child, and in so many ways, but the one that matters most is that you are special to me. Never forget that, Minerva, never."
She squeezed the Gryffindor's hand with a smile, one that the girl returned, erasing most of the her doubts- although it was likely that a few questions still lingered. Minerva curled back against the woman and breathed deeply, letting the stress roll off her in waves. She smelled the barest hint of peppermint mixed within Galatea's usual scent that she hadn't noticed before, but it dawned upon her that it had always been there. She thought it was funny that, as she continued to trust and relax around Galatea, she kept picking up little bits of personality that were more intriguing than the ones that came before.
Why peppermint? she mused as she relaxed, simply enjoying the comfort which it brought. Aside from that tainted memory, which still hung in a cloud of questionable truth, Minerva couldn't remember Isobel ever doing such a thing with her.
"I like this," the younger witch said softly, still wearing a smile. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked into the burning fire, feeling its heat warming her as well as Galatea. It was like a blanket of comfort, safety and peace; if she was in her tabby form, she'd have purred and very loudly at that.
"I quite agree." The woman rested her chin on top of Minerva's dark hair for a moment or two in silence before she had to break it. "Darling?"
"Hmm?"
"Professor Dumbledore brought up something with me this morning. With the Untergang snooping around, it may be best that you stay here over the holidays. I know it is several weeks away, and you need not be worrying about it yet, but I think it is something that you should be aware of." When no answer came after moment or two, she prompted. "Minerva?"
"You're right. It'd be for the best, for their safety as well as my own."
And my sanity...
Minerva almost shuddered at the thought of what she would do if she saw her mother. She'd be seventeen over this year's Christmas holidays, the legal age to use magic. If something happened- if her mother if her mother said or did the wrong thing, if Minerva accidentally slipped about her knowledge of the false memories in the heat of an argument -things might take a turn for the worse, even with her restraint. She was angry at Isobel for hiding everything; angry that the woman was hurting Galatea by pushing her away; angry that she wasn't the mother Minerva needed; and she was absolutely furious that Isobel had tampered with her memories. If she were being truly honest with herself, she was still a little hurt by the fact that her own mother had accepted Tradisi's plan to 'get rid' of her- even if she never did carry it out. There was also that touch of sadness, the emptiness that caused her heart to throb in pain, although she was unsure why she felt like that anymore. The woman had hardly done anything for her anyway.
"Besides," she continued, "I could spend some time with you over the holidays- if you don't mind, that is."
"Darling, how could I ever stop you? Just keep in mind that while I am on holiday, a Professor here- especially as the Head of House -sometimes must deal with matters, mainly regarding students, but nonetheless they must be dealt with."
"I understand."
"Good." The woman patted her hand.
"Oh!" Minerva suddenly sat up. "I completely forgot! With everything else on my mind as of late I didn't even think..." Galatea was about to question the girl but stopped when she pulled out her fir wand and waved it, wordlessly conjuring a small box. "I was in Hogsmeade three days ago visiting Cayden, when I realized it would be your birthday on the ninth-"
"Minerva, you did not need to get me anything."
The green-eyed witch smiled softly as she grabbed the box. "I know, but I wanted to. Your attack from the Untergang made me realize just how much you mean to me, that I'd be if I lost you, and I couldn't get that out of my head."
At a loss for words, and feeling tears beginning to form within her eyes, the elder witch gently took the present. She opened it, then gently took out a long silver chain with a small heart in the center, decorated with several Celtic knots and a small hinge on the side indicating a locket. With a small glance at the girl's smile, the elder witch opened it. Inside held two pictures of the Gryffindor; one when she was young, no more than six, with her dark hair in curls and her emerald eyes sparkling with innocence; while the other was of the rather brilliant, bright and courageous witch she was today.
Galatea smiled. It was the only thing she could do to prevent tears from forming in her pale blue eyes. She could have said something- she wanted to say something, more like it -but her fear that the incredibly smart young witch would draw upon the event which- even now -continued to conflict the woman. In her mind, the Minerva could not know, if only because the elder witch wasn't prepared for her to know yet. It took her over twenty years to even tell Isobel of what she had done- or almost, that is, pertaining to the woman.
"Help me put it on?" she whispered, looking into the girl's beautiful green eyes, forcing herself not to draw upon the memory by keeping her mind in the present. The younger witch beamed at the gesture and was on her feet in an instant.
"I kept wondering what in Merlin's name to get you. I was half tempted to ask Professor Dumbledore or Madam Nurix, but then Cayden suggested Gem-lorious Pendants and this idea just clicked."
"Well, it's beautiful, darling, and I shall wear it everyday."
"Oh, and I already charmed it so that only you can view it- in case something happens and it gets into the wrong hands. I know how you are about secrecy."
Galatea turned around, facing Minerva with a look of partial surprise. "You performed the Concealment charm?"
"Yes, I did it wandlessly and wordlessly."
The woman blinked, nearly stunned. She could do wordless or wandless, but never both at the same time. "Merlin's beard, and how long did it take you to accomplish that?"
"Um..." the girl peered into the fire. "Three attempts. My first was with my wand and incantation. I worked my way up from there."
To Minerva's surprise, Galatea laughed, and as far as she could remember, the green-eyed witch had never heard the woman laugh before. Chuckle yes, and maybe a small one here and there, but never outright laughter.
"Oh, my dear, I think you shall pick up on our minor lessons extremely quickly then. Remind me to conduct them on highly advanced and difficult magic, spells not taught here simply for the fact that they are too difficult for the majority of students. In the long-run it should be useful."
"Like the Impeturbable charm? I've always wanted to learn that. Oh, and what about the Gashing curse? The Disillusionment Charm? The counter-spell of-"
"All in good time, darling, I promise." The woman's eyes gleamed with blissful amusement. "You are just as bad as Professor Dumbledore, you know? The moment there is a new spell discovered, he must master it." She kissed Minerva's forehead. "Now, as much as I would love for you to stay with me forever, I believe Animagus Studies starts soon."
"And after that, Occlumency."
"Ah, yes. Tell me, has Professor Dumbledore tested you yet?"
Minerva nodded her head, careful not to betray her thoughts on the event. "He said I had a talent."
"I knew you would."
She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Your astral ability, child. I take it Isobel never explained it?"
"How do you know of astrals?"
"Isobel has the ability, dear." Galatea bit her tongue after that, holding back a repulsive addition. Her crystal blue eyes narrowed for a moment, forcing back a memory she'd rather not remember at this current moment, and she continued speaking to better her efforts. "While your astral is not 'awake' per se, it acts as a secondary mental defence mechanism when you are attacked- specifically against Legilimency and Glimpsing. It is an extraordinarily useful gift, if I do say so myself. How long did you stall him?"
Minerva narrowed her eyes. "Forty-five seconds."
The elder witch nearly dropped her jaw in shock. "Goodness, and against a master for the first time! Yes, I dare say advancing will not be a problem for you at all. Well, off you get, and thank you for the locket."
The green-eyed witch beamed, happy beyond words that her beloved mentor adored her present, then turned around to take her leave.
Galatea watched the young woman walk away with a complexity of emotions as the former pang in her heart began to overwhelm her again. Her long fingers curled around the locket as memories began to creep into her thoughts once more. Damn it all, you old witch, just say it! With all the events of this year, who knows what will transpire? You might never get the chance.
"M-Minerva?" she called, silently cursing her voice for cracking. The Gryffindor turned on her heel, almost as if she didn't expect there to be another word between them. Her emerald eyes sparkled- those same eyes that had been in these very rooms thirteen years ago.
"I..." Her voice failed her and she bit her tongue. It wasn't the time. Will it ever be, though? she thought angrily at herself. "Please, do try to focus on advancing in your lessons with Dumbledore, despite your immense talent. I will be able to relax a bit more knowing you can defend your mind against Legilimency attacks."
Thankfully, the young witch didn't seem to be disappointed by the lack of emotional words. Maybe she just didn't expect them, having lived most of her life deprived of motherly affection. Damn it, Izzy...
"I have every intention to, Galatea. I'd tell you to stop worrying, except I know you won't listen to me." She flashed a small smile. "I'll talk to you later, tonight perhaps?"
The woman's brows nearly shot up and her heartbeat quickened its pace for a brief second at the mention of 'tonight'. She'd almost forgotten. "Ah, no, I have an appointment."
The Gryffindor noted the slight tone change on the last word and crossed her arms. "I hope it's not regarding the war, Untergang, or myself."
The elder witch shook her head, her eyes gleaming with what Minerva considered to be a rather peculiar expression, almost excitement. "Nothing of the sort, my dear, that I can most certainly promise you."
While being abruptly bewildered by her beloved professor's words, the young woman gave up trying to guess what it was about, and without further delay made her way down to the Transfiguration Department. Passing the lavatory on the fourth floor, however, she was halted by a young Hufflepuff boy.
"Prefect!" he called after her, just as he grabbed her sleeve. He was definitely a first year. "Miss Prefect, please help!"
"Whatever's the matter?"
"There's a boy in the bathroom, he won't stop vomiting!"
Minerva grimaced, then immediately took off with the young boy. She could almost smell the sickening revulsion when she got near the room. The poor lad was surrounded by students who apparently had nothing better to do than stand there and watch a third year Hufflepuff puke.
"Move!" she commanded, glaring at each of them with severe disappointment as she made her way towards the sick 'attraction'. Well, what the younger Hufflepuff said had not been an understatement, the lad simply could not stop vomiting, and Minerva had to look away for a moment to keep herself from being sick as well. This was a bloody prank.
Poppy, you might want to get to the lavatory on the fourth floor. Someone's been feed 'Endless Vomit'.
Sweet Merlin, it's not poor Travis Rowan is it? A third year Hufflepuff?
Yes, I think it's him.
Not again! Oh, the poor boy, I shall be there in a few.
The dark haired witch sighed. There was nothing more she could do for the boy except catch the cruel witch or wizard responsible.
"Would someone care to explain this?" she barked at the crowd. Suddenly she saw a small, pudgy girl with a dreadful pink bow in her curly mousy brown hair almost managing to sneak away. A low, cat-like growl almost escaped from her throat. It was blatantly obvious who the culprit was.
"Miss Umbridge," the sly girl froze, "I take it that, because you are leaving, that you have nothing to do with this?"
The Slytherin witch swiftly turned around, keeping her hands behind her back rather suspiciously. "Ah, yes, Miss McGonagall, absolutely nothing."
The Prefect took a few steps forward, using her height to her advantage. "So, if I say 'Accio Endless Vomit', nothing would jerk from your hands?"
"That would be unlawful search and-"
Minerva flicked her hand, and just as she predicted, a bulb like-vial from Umbridge's grasp. The crowd gasped and the young witch looked completely mortified.
"Only unlawful without reasonable suspicion, Miss Umbridge, and I dare say I have just that. If I were able I'd deduct thirty points from Slytherin, but since I am not, I'll assign you two nights of detention with Mr Pringle in the Forbidden Forest."
Minerva hardly had time to absorb just how furious the young witch was before Poppy sprang into the room.
"Scat! All of you, begone! This is no place for you to be!" the apprentice healer shouted. Now with two Prefects in the lavatory, the children finally left- except the frightfully red-cheeked Slytherin witch. "Miss Umbridge, did you not hear me? Scat!"
With a final death glare towards Minerva, Dolores eventually left, leaving the sound of the poor Hufflepuff continuously vomiting echoing around the bathroom.
"Oh Travis, when will you learn?" Poppy groaned. "Thank you, Min, I'll handle this from here."
Finally, Minerva entered the classroom, after rubbing her temples the entire way down the stairs until the skin underneath was very sore, that is. Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore was done giving his usual start of class lecture and was seated at his desk as the five Apprentices were reading their textbooks. Riddle looked up at her, his cold eyes peering into hers.
"Late again, Minerva?" He had taken to using her first name over the last year, much to her displeasure. There were days that she wished she could give him a good hex of the bat-bogies for a month to reward his sly and devious behaviour. What made that feeling worse was how innocently he behaved around the professors. "That gives you a grand total of two tardies in your school career. I wonder, do you even have a feasible excuse this time?"
She smiled at him, not one of pleasure, mind you, but an insincere one. "Actually, Riddle, I do."
"And?"
"And- if I were you, I'd put your nose back into your book where it belongs as you still have yet to pass the Right." She would sometimes flaunt that into the air, just for the pure fact that he would finally shut up after she said it. He loathed her for becoming an Animagus at the end of her third tear. He'd apparently been trying to pass the final steps for the past few years, yet he could never do it. Professor Dumbledore once hinted to her that Riddle simply didn't have the 'right mindset'- and Minerva couldn't agree more.
In an amazing show of self control, she watched as he kept face straight, even while she knew he seethed underneath his serene features. However, she was pretty sure that he glared at her when she made her way towards her professor.
"I apologize, Sir," the dark haired witch whispered, not wanting to disturb the other students more than she already had. "There was an incident that required my attention as a Prefect."
"No apology needed, my dear." Dumbledore spoke quietly. "The office is open for you."
With a thankful nod, Minerva made her way into the room and immediately decided to throw herself into her project so that she could forget the impending stress of the year. It had hardly started yet and she felt as if she'd been here for nearly six months.
Closing the door, the witch sighed but then smiled upon seeing a new book upon the Professor's desk with a note on the front. Minerva always found those notes to bring her relief- whether Dumbledore intended it or not. Gently, she plucked the note from the leather, then began to read as her smile broadened. She could always perfectly distinguish her professor's handwriting from anyone else's. He had a unique style to his letters; it was cursive, of course, but the fluidity of the strokes, the curves and curls at the ends made his writing almost like artwork to her. It was beautiful, admirable, and vastly different from her own angular style.
Dear Miss McGonagall,
I came across a peculiar diary that I believe you shall find immensely fascinating, if I do say so myself. Inside contains the works of a Ms. I. M. Quizzel. Like the others, she went missing after meeting with the Merpeople- however, she met with the Sirens beforehand and what she discovered was... well, I'll let you find out for yourself.
Good luck, and try not to worry about our lesson.
Professor Dumbledore
Minerva felt her heartbeat quicken as she hastily put the parchment down and open the journal. Over the past two years she'd been searching, discovering and collecting information on the Merpeople and the Sirens, and even with her professor's help, she couldn't find anything regarding the species' magic. Everyone knew that the Merpeople were vastly protective and secretive about it, and it would seem that they would kill anyone who tried to find out. The Sirens were peaceful, but never said anything except, 'you are not her'. There were diaries filled with journal entries, notes about the scholar's previous leadings, most were trying discover if there was a link between the Sirens and Merpeople with Transfiguration. The correlation was there- they were the only two species that kept their ancient magic locked away and unused.
The dark haired witch found it all very fascinating. It could occupy her thoughts for hours on end. She couldn't help it. Not only was the subject vastly intriguing, but she felt an unusual connection with Transfiguration. There was a reason she advanced so quickly in her first year of Animagus Studies and completed the Right of Passage before the year had ended. The magic of the subject simply worked with her, did her bidding without question and flowed through her as if it belonged to her. She loved it.
Flipping through the entries, she devoured Quizzel's work. The witch was from Canada, and often referenced the differences between her homeland and Greece. Both countries seemed rather intriguing to Minerva, but she skimmed through those passages, forcing herself to deliberately search only for information regarding the woman's research. There were several mentions of what Minerva already knew about, and the ever present question of how the Wizarding World had learned Transfiguration. Quizzle was determined, she'd give her that. A half hour passed before she finally came upon the entry which described her experience with the Sirens. She nearly dropped the book in surprise. The woman had been able to see the species magic at work! According to her descriptions, it was exactly like Transfiguration except for the fact that it was far more advanced. It involved some sort of energy that the witch wasn't able to comprehend. She had never felt it before in her own spells. It apparently felt foreign, but at the same time perfect, less problematic than the method which the Wizarding World currently used.
The Sirens apparently sang a hymn-like song. According to Quizzel, it was familiar to the Canadian Sirens' own song, although in a higher octave. She suspected they were the same, however, like all the other scholars before her, when she asked about the song, they simply trilled 'you are not her' and fled back down into the ocean's abyss.
As to whom 'her' was, Minerva kept pondering the song the Siren in Loch Ness has sung to her. She could have sworn that she'd heard Fawkes singing the tune once or twice, but every time she got closer to the bird, he'd stop. She couldn't help but think that they might be related, and if so, then did that mean she'd be able to unlock the secrets of their magic? Excitement coursed through her veins at that thought, and what her professor would think if she did manage to find the answer. For now she'd keep that thought to herself though, for it might appear to be a ludicrous idea to anyone else.
The door opened and Minerva felt a smile make its way onto her lips before she turned around to greet the man. "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."
The wizard returned her smile. "Good evening, Miss McGonagall, you seem to be in a light mood. Did you find anything useful in the diary, I wonder?"
"I did, Sir, it proved quite useful. It seems our theory regarding Ancient Transfiguration beginning with the Sirens and Merpeople is beginning to shine through."
Dumbledore chuckled. "I believe that is your theory now, Miss McGonagall. You've taken great lengths, devoted two years of study to this topic, and found the correlation between the missing links of the species and the lone branch of magic."
"Yes, but it is you who introduced the idea of Magical Evolution to me. Without that I wouldn't be where I am today."
He waved her words away. "Nonsense, my dear. While it may have taken you a bit longer without my help, I have a feeling you would have come to the same conclusions on your own anyhow. You are incredibly smart, you would have found a way."
Minerva blushed lightly as she shook her head. There was no use arguing with the man. She closed the diary and Banished it to her dormitory.
"Have you been sleeping better?"
The witch smiled. Those little personal questions didn't catch her off guard anymore, nor did they make her cringe with embarrassment. She had simply grown used to his partial interest in her. In all honesty, she found it enjoyable and immensely refreshing.
"Last night I slept more soundly than I have in years, Professor. You were right, the memory finally left me alone. All I needed was time." Minerva paused, but then to avoid an slightly awkward silence, she added, "I've been reading the Legilimency and Occlumency books you provided."
"I had no doubt that you would." His eyes twinkled and Minerva found that she had to blink to prevent herself from staring into them. She wasn't sure what to make of that. "Now, before we begin, do you have any questions?"
"Yes, I do. The books weren't entirely clear on the matter, but is it possible that even with a breach, you have a limited control of what the attacker sees?"
"That is correct, which is why during our test I asked you to direct me towards harmless information. Depending on how strong your will is during a breach, you may stall your attacker. The most effective way is to keep your mind thinking different thoughts, quickly changing the topic, so that your attacker can not gain a foothold. Eventually, however, you will run out of memories to recall."
Minerva nodded her head. "Thank you, Professor. I believe I am ready then."
"Very well then. I will attempt to find the memory where you floated the Snitch around my office. If you manage to stall me from finding this memory after three minutes, I will stop. We will take a break, then have another go."
She noted a slight movement as his wand slid from what appeared to be a wrist holster and immediately closed her eyes, draining out her thoughts and emotions as the book had informed her. It wasn't terribly difficult, she was used to this basic process when calming her mind. When she opened her eyes, the witch made sure she didn't stare into her Professor's sapphire orbs. Instead, she looked slightly to the left towards the wall, then exhaled. The wizard started the countdown.
"One."
Minerva felt a strange sensation within her mind. It dulled her senses, made her head feel as if it was full of a dense fog. She reasoned that it must have been Avrenim merging with her Occlumency barriers.
"Two."
The witch inhaled, then blinked, refusing to let her heartbeat increase from anticipation of the impact. She exhaled.
"Three..." His wand flicked, no doubt emitting a Silencing charm around the room, then pointed it towards her. "Legilimens!"
This time she was ready for the initial, violent merge. While it still affected her body, gasping for air as her lungs convulsed, her mind remained consistently still. Last time her control had dissolved and Avrenim was there to shield her mind, this time, however, her astral wasn't needed yet. At that moment, she realized just how right Galatea was, astrals were a natural self defence.
Like before, she didn't have any sense of time. An hour could have passed and she wouldn't have even known, or it could have all be a few simple seconds. Yet, what Minerva was aware about, was the spell picking and prodding, attacking her barriers, hissing words with a voice that didn't seem to belong to anyone. But she didn't give in, her mind stayed numb. A growing pressure began to grow in the back of her brain, almost like a headache but different. It was all encompassing and thumped uncomfortably as if it's sole purpose was to infuriate her. The witch could have sworn that she felt her body jerk and spasm, but she wasn't sure, and she wasn't about to ponder it- choosing instead to keep her focus on the invading force within her mind.
Finding no weak spot, the spell increased its pace and the violence evolved, ripping and clawing like a vicious animal assaulting its prey, trying to strip away the layers. It didn't last long, however, as it was suddenly brought to an abrupt halt. Minerva felt her attacker leave, ending the spell, but she waited for a few moments before allowing victorious joy creep into her senses as her mind returned to the physical plane.
Instead of standing, as she had been before the onslaught, the witch found herself kneeling on the ground, sweat beading across her forehead, and panting. Her heart was racing, the sound was almost deafening to her ears. If it wasn't for her enhanced hearing, she probably wouldn't have noticed her Professor breathing just as heavily. She briefly wondered if part of it was from the struggle of holding back what he was truly capable of. He was a Master Legilimens and Occlumens after all.
Slowly, Minerva stood up, her breathing still struggling to return to normal.
"You have... improved tremendously," Dumbledore said, his breathing under more control than her's, then chuckled softly to himself. "I expected progress, Miss McGonagall, but not advancement on this scale. Six minutes." Her eyes widened. "I went over, I apologize. Time tends to slip. Legilimens have a better sense of the time one spends in a person's head when attacking, but still..."
The witch could sense a slight unease towards the mistake by the way his sapphire eyes respectively dodged her gaze. Had something similar happened in an ordinary class, she would imagine him never acting this way in front of her. But this was Legilimency, far beyond her normal lessons, and she imagined that this was particularly difficult on him- invading an innocent's mind, not to mention his student's.
"It's all right, Professor, really." She brushed the few stray locks of hair behind her ear. She'd fix it later, after her second attempt.
The wizard gently nodded his head, quite grateful for her maturity and understanding at this point. With a wave of his hand he summoned two of his favourite confections.
"Here," he floated the sweet to her palm. "It'll help you recover."
"The sugar or the lemon flavoring?" She was well aware that chocolate had healing properties, but was slightly skeptical as to the power of a lemon drop.
Professor Dumbledore chuckled and his eyes twinkled. "Both, but also neither."
Minerva rolled her eyes, shaking her head in amusement as she slipped the sweet into her mouth. "You're not secretly trying to get me addicted to these things, like Rola are you, Professor?"
He smirked. "Not at all."
"Or maybe trying to convert the Wizarding World, one lemon drop at a time?" she teased.
He raised his hands up in mock surrender and winked at her. "Alas, you have caught your professor in his mad schemings."
Minerva grinned. "Well, fear not, Professor Dumbledore, I shall not turn you in. There simply is not a punishment fitting enough for such a lemony crime."
The professor laughed, and she not laughed with him, she might have realized that hearing such a happy sound issuing from him was more addicting than the sweets.
September 12th 1942:
Mico awoke to the sound of his tummy rumbling. He opened his eyes and nearly growled at the sudden brightness before gradually blinking away the sun spots as he adjusted to the light. Raising his head ever so slightly, he realised that his mistress was still asleep. While he was pleased that she was finally starting to catch up on her much needed sleep, he wanted food. He was a cat, and by his ancestor's whiskers, he was going to get what he wanted without begging like a dog- if you don't consider the act of being all sweet, cuddly and purring very loudly, a form of persuasion, that is.
He flicked his short, stubby tail a few times as a deep, long yawn took over him. He stretched out his limbs gracefully, taking his time, then sat on his rump, plotting the best way to awake his mistress. Some might call this devilish, but others would call it genius. He settled for the latter- he was, after all, a cat. A furry, pristine, undeniably smart cat, even if he did say so himself.
Finally he decided that kneading was the best way to go, and if that didn't work, then he'd just move on to another tactic. Oh, he had perfected this art a thousand times, but he had a feeling his mistress would be rather hard to rouse this morning. It would seem that her fellow witches had thought the same, for they were nowhere to be found in the dormitory.
Mico sauntered over to his mistress, casually walking around her legs, then gently made his way on top of her stomach and up towards her chest. Flexing his paws, he began to knead, thinking about the taste of glorious food, savoring it, and the wonderful feeling of a full belly. He purred. He knew humans were particularly fond of such a sound, his own kind was too, but he always found it odd that another species appreciated the sound- not that he complained. It generally rewarded him with lots of nose kisses, ear scratches and tummy rubs. Oh, the life of a cat!
'Wake up, Mama! I'm hungry! I want my food!' he purred in her ear.
Yet, no matter how much he kneaded, it seemed that his mistress simply did not want to wake up. It was a Saturday, the morning after her Occlumency lessons, and the second night of actually getting a good eight hours sleep. More than enough reason for one to stay in bed until at least nine in the morning, or so her mindset seemed to be. However, Mico, the little furry, adorable little bugger, was a little more than persistent when it came to his food this morning. He was downright determined.
'Your whole purpose in life is to feed me, play with me and love me. You should know the code by now, you have been a cat for nearly two years yourself, whiskers forbid! Wake up, you sleeping human!'
She turned over, forcing him to scamper to the side of the bed, while muttering something that sounded like, "Dragons later, Professor"- or was that 'lemons'? Mico wasn't sure. His whiskers twitched. Well, he had got some response, at least. He hopped back onto his Mistress and began kneading her back, purring louder this time.
'Mama, wake up!'
He could have sworn he saw her eyes flutter at his massage and her lips softly curl. He chirped a meow in excitement, then continued his little kneading dance. 'Good morning, Mama! Time to feed me!'
But nothing happened, and he kneaded even more. His paws moved in between her shoulder blades. He seemed to hit a particularly sensitive spot when his mistress mumbled something. He narrowed his eyes in irritation, then continued to press his paws in the area. Her eyes fluttered again and the smile increased, and by this time he knew he was being fooled. She was enjoying this! He abruptly stopped his work and jumped off, forcing a groan from her. He let out a frustrated meow
'Not funny, Mama! I'm hungry!' his stomach grumbled loudly. 'See? Get up! I want food!'
Finally, his mistress lifted her head. She looked at him with a bit of an amused frown, which earned her several annoyed flicks of his tiny tail and ears.
"Why did you stop, boy? That felt good..." she whined with a bit of a chuckle as she threw the covers off her bed. When her bare feet touched the floor, he immediately began circling around her legs, herding her to his food bowl. She laughed. "All right, all right!"
With a flick of her hand, there was a small pile of food ready for him to indulge himself. The brown tabby dashed over and instantly began to satisfy his hunger. Minerva smiled then bent down to give him an ear scratch. It had only been for a few seconds when suddenly she gasped, looking at the time. It was nearly ten!
"Why didn't they wake me?" the witch screeched as she quickly pulled her silky, Gryffindor-proud, tartan nightgown over her head and grabbed her long emerald green witch robes from her dresser. She wasted no time getting ready. Barely two minutes had passed before she was fully dressed with her dark haired pinned back, and she was out the door. It took her nearly nine minutes to reach the Great Hall- twelve flights of stairs were a lot to get down, not to mention the complications of them moving. She probably could have made it in four if she ran in her Animagus form, but Minerva had been trying to severely limit using the ability since Tom Riddle seemed to be watching her every step, and even more so with the Untergang probably lurking about as well. She simply couldn't afford the risk of being spotted.
The moment Minerva entered the room, she noticed both Professor Merrythought and Madam Nurix glance her way. The Matron then leaned into the elder witch's ear, whispering a few words that made Galatea purse her lips and reply with a choice words that made Madam Nurix chuckle. Professor Dumbledore also glanced her way, but it was only for a mere moment before he continued his- what appeared to be -rather serious conversation with the Headmaster.
There were several dozen students still in the Hall, a good majority of them were doing their homework- except for a few Slytherins who were gossiping between themselves. Her friends were all grouped together, either flicking their wands around to practice their spells, or writing their essays. While she wanted to be frustrated with her sisters, she knew they had good intentions for not waking her up. Simply put, she had been exhausted when she got back from her Occlumency lessons and they had all been worried for her. Everyone was there at the table, even Pomona and Poppy.
"Good morning, Min!" Rolanda sang as she skipped towards her, her golden hawk eyes were positively beaming. Clearly someone was in a good mood. "Seems like you slept well."
"I did and I might have slept in longer had it not been for Mico. But really, ten in the morning? Rola, you should have woken me up!"
"I know, I know," the hawk-eyed witch hooked her arm around her sister's and began dragging her to the table, "but you looked so peaceful, I just couldn't!"
"None of us could, not even I," Poppy said with a bit of a smile, catching on to the conversation. "You needed your sleep, Min, you can't deny that."
The two witches sat down.
"I won't deny it, but still," she smirked. "Next time you let me sleep in like that, could you at least feed Mico?"
"What? But I fed him... oh, that little bugger! Oscar must have eaten it!" Augusta huffed. "I'll have a talk with him."
Minerva chuckled. "No offence, Gusta, but I think I might be able to communicate with him a little better." The green-eyed witch winked. Most of the table laughed, except for Mikail, who still didn't know about Minerva's Animagus ability- and probably never would. He raised a brow with a shrug, then muttered something in Russian about the crazy British which made him chuckle. Poppy threw him a rather cold glance, then returned to her work. Minerva caught the slight tension and rolled her eyes with a small smirk.
Just then, with a great cry, most of the Owlery flew into the hall. While no one in the group was expecting anything, a certain gift landed in Pomona's hands which sparked everyone's attention. It was a rose. Just a single red rose.
Augusta was immediately on the poor Hufflepuff's case. "Oh, Mona! You never told us you were seeing someone!"
The pudgy witch's cheeks flushed, partially embarrassed, but also confused. "I'm not."
"Does it say who it's from?" Rolanda asked, scooting closer towards the flustered girl.
Pomona looked at the note that was gently attached to the flower's stem by thin white string. She shook her head. "It just says; 'Sorry if the thorns prick you. I hope you like it'."
"Oh, a secret admirer!" Augusta giggled, then narrowed her eyes and turned towards Kevin. "You hardly ever get me roses."
The wizard pecked her on the nose. "Well then, I shall get you a bouquet. Maybe add a box of chocolates while I'm at it?"
A small squeal escaped the blond haired witch. "You just want to watch me eat them," she said softly, although little louder than a whisper, then licked her lips.
Most at the table laughed, except for Poppy who just rolled her eyes, very much not amused.
"Go out to the corridors if you're going to get all mushy and romantic," she muttered with her honey glazed voice more crisp than normal.
"Oh lighten up, Poppy, we're just having fun."
"Speaking of fun," Poppy waved the conversation away and glanced at Minerva, "or something close to it; did you hear what happened to Miss Umbridge last night?"
Rolanda nearly cackled hearing those words, her eyes were shining madly. "You should have seen her this morning, stomping around with the most bitter look in her eyes!"
"Oh? What happened?"
"She apparently crossed a few Centaurs and muttered 'filthy half-breed beasts' under her breath and they tried to attack her."
"She vas lucky Mr Pringle vas there to keep her safe. Centaurs are nothing to make light of." Mikail said rather darkly. Poppy's brow raised in mock curiosity and Minerva felt like groaning. She wondered if they'd been arguing yet.
"Something you've experienced, Lutrov?"
"Again, you can call me Mikail," he sighed in slight irritation. "And for the record, yes, I saw my mentor get trampled by one. It nearly killed him."
The apprentice healer clicked her tongue, and her eyes did not soften. "What were you doing out there, I wonder."
Minerva sniffed, her eyes wide with disbelief. The wizard just admitted that he watched his mentor be nearly trampled to death and there was no sympathy. Not even the slightest. She could understand not trusting Mikail, but this was not in her sister's nature, not in the least. For Merlin's sake, Poppy! Give it a rest, will you?
Poppy glared back, but didn't say anything else. Shutting off her connection to both sisters, she simply shook her head and began to leave the table. "I shall be in the Hospital Wing then in case you have need of me."
She left without another word, leaving most of the table to watch her walk out with incredulous looks on their faces.
"Something I said?" Mikail asked quietly, his brows furrowed in confusion.
"I don't think so." Pomona sighed. "What's with her lately?"
"Hmph, Goodness knows. It's like she's another person lately." Rolanda pursed her lips. I thought you said she had lightened up about your decision to retrieve your memories?
I thought she has too... I think this has more to do with Mikail and the Untergang, but Merlin- she's changing.
Well, I want the old Poppy back. This new one is far too bitter for my liking.
Minerva couldn't agree more. However, she had a dreadful feeling that it was only just beginning.
The idea for the scene between Umbridge and McGonagall that [ roby-boh. deviantart. com ] made. I thought it was hilarious and decided to depict it here :D
Please review!
~LinK