25th March 1969
"Prewett!" barked Minerva, "If I ever see you doing that again you will spend a Saturday in detention in my office."
Gideon Prewett jumped up like a cat who had been given a dreadful fright. His face was masked with the expression of someone having been caught doing something he ought not to be. Spinning around he came face to face with Minerva and he tried to give her a winning smile. His smile was returned with a hard, cold stare from his Professor, however; he did not look in the least worried.
"I promise you, Professor, it will not happen again," he answered, crossing his heart with his fingers an evil glint in his eye.
"I should hope not," replied Minerva, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the boy.
About to turn around and continue her way to her classroom, Minerva had a sudden thought. Spinning back around she pursed her lips at Gideon who was still watching her cheerfully and walked towards the door he had been trying to get through.
Putting her hand on the doorknob she looked at Gideon seriously. "If I find your brother in this room you will both receive detention," she warned him, eyes flashing dangerously, "I have told you once before - once being more than enough - that Mr Filch's store cupboard is out of bounds," she stared hardly into his eyes, "Will I find Mr Prewett in this room?" she asked the Gryffindor whose expression was no longer one of triumph.
Prewett gulped which told Minerva everything. Twisting the doorknob she pushed the door open and heard a quick scramble followed by the sound of several buckets and brooms falling to the floor.
"Mr Prewett do not mistake me for a fool. Out of this room at once! 10 points from Gryffindor," she snapped, ignoring the dull pain in the back of her head, which had been bothering her since she had woken up that very morning.
A mop of red hair appeared from behind a cabinet and slowly Fabian Prewett's face emerged, looking guiltier than Minerva thought possible. Giving an impatient cluck of her tongue, Minerva opened the door a little wider and watched him accusingly as he left the room.
Once he was out of the room the two boys stood shoulder to shoulder looking at Minerva directly in the eyes as if waiting for further instruction. She suppressed the sudden urge to laugh as both the seventeen-year-old boys looked at her wide eyed and waiting. Despite their constant pranks and never ending rule breaking, the Prewett twins were somewhat amusing and Minerva secretly found them funny at times - even though they kept her up most of the night thanks to their regular 'midnight strolls'.
"To the Great Hall," she said firmly, however, less harshly than before.
"Righty-o," answered Fabian, winking at Minerva who rolled her eyes.
"Come on, Gabian," hummed Gideon happily, pulling his twin by the arm.
"To breakfast!" shouted Fabian.
Minerva sighed. "One more year, Minerva. One more year," she whispered to herself, walking at a far slower pace than her usual brisk walk.
Feeling far dizzier than she cared to admit, Minerva walked to the Great Hall contemplating on whether she felt well enough to stomach some breakfast before her day of teaching started.
Reaching the large oak doors, she quickly made a decision and marched through them, instantly regretting her choice as the noise of all of the chattering students hit her like a fully loaded two-ton truck.
"Merlin help me," she muttered, weaving her way through the jungle of students and arriving at the teachers' table after what felt like an age.
Sitting down in her chair, she pressed her eyes shut and rubbed them with her hands. The room was tilting before her very eyes and the once dull ache at the back of her head had become a violent pounding.
"Minerva are you all right?"
"I am fine, Pomona," answered Minerva, lifting her head from her hands and trying to look better than she felt – she hated being sick especially since that meant Pomona thought it in her right to send Minerva to bed straightaway.
"You don't look fine," Pomona pointed out, arching an eyebrow and looking at Minerva studiously.
"I am tired, exams are approaching faster than expected," snapped Minerva, ending the conversation abruptly. Her headache was getting worse and to add to that, she had developed a rather nasty cough.
"You say that every year," answered Pomona, unfazed by her friend's rudeness, "Potatoes?" she asked, passing a bowl to Minerva who felt suddenly very queasy at the sight of it.
"No thank you," managed Minerva, wanting desperately to leave the Great Hall, however, knowing that if she left now Pomona would be on her case.
Pomona sniffed and eyed Minerva suspiciously, however, did not object. Pulling her chair in so that Albus, who had just arrived, could get passed Pomona piled her plate with food, not oblivious to Minerva whose eyes seemed determinedly trying to look in the other direction.
"Minerva, Pomona," saluted Albus, taking a seat in his chair and nodding his head to the two women.
"Albus," mumbled Minerva in return, reaching deep down into her pocket for some tissues.
"Are you feeling all right?" asked the Headmaster, looking concernedly at his Deputy Headmistress who was in a fit of uncontrollable coughing.
"Perfectly – all – right," gasped Minerva through coughs.
Albus frowned but said nothing more.
"If you'll excuse me," said Minerva, staggering out of her chair and trying to walk out of the Great Hall without looking other than her usual brisk self. Aware of Albus's and Pomona's concerned looks, Minerva paid them no mind and carried on down the aisles and out the oak doors.
With only one thought in mind, she walked determinedly to the Hospital Wing in hopes of getting a pepper up potion before her first lesson started. Her steps were a little shaky and she did have to slow down her pace at numerous intervals due to her balance having weakened a great deal during the few hours she had been up that day.
At last, the doors of the infirmary were visible, hurrying up a little bit when she saw that she only had a few minutes to spare, Minerva quickened her pace and thought longingly of the pepper up potion.
"Nearly there," she muttered to herself, glancing at her watch every now and then – she did not want to be late for her class, "Nearly ther-"
"Professor McGonagall!"
One of her fourth years, Anne stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the Hospital Wing. Trying very hard not to ignore the girl and walk straight past her, Minerva stopped in her tracks and looked down at the girls, trying her very hardest to look interested.
"Miss Jean," she said, urging the girl to hurry in her mind.
"Professor McGonagall, Moaning Myrtle had flooded the girls' bathroom again," said Anne.
"Thank you for telling me, Miss Jean. I will come and sort it out a little later," answered Minerva, feeling dizzier and dizzier still and pressing her hand as discretely as possible on the wall next to her to keep steady.
"But Professor, Gideon, Fabian and some others are having a water fight in there," continued Anne, unaware of her Professor's discomfort.
Minerva sagged. "Of course they are," she muttered, more to herself than anybody else. Straightening up again, still with her hand pressed to the wall, Minerva looked down at the girls and spoke in a clearer voice, "Very well, Miss Jean. Thank you for informing me once again. Ten points to Hufflepuff," she added vaguely walking in the direction of the girls' lavatories.
Not only had she missed the opportunity to get a pepper up potion but she might also be late for her class thanks to the Prewetts. Her previous leniency with them that morning seemed too kind now and Minerva clenched her teeth angrily. Reaching Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Minerva quickly dealt with the three boys then left for her classroom.
"Settle down, settle down," said Minerva, ushering her class into her classroom.
Walking swiftly to her desk, Minerva felt ten times worse than she had when she had given the Prewett boys and their friend Johnson detention in the bathroom. Her head was throbbing, her vision was getting gradually poorer and in addition to all of that, she had not failed to notice the slightly greenish tinge, which had now stained her normally pale white skin.
"Professor McGonagall, should we give you our essays now?" asked Mary McDonald, whom her fellow classmates promptly glared darkly at.
Ignoring the many dark looks, Minerva sighed and nodded, patting the corner of her showing her class where she wanted the essays to be placed. "Yes, please," she said, still not getting up from her chair which was all that was stopping her from falling to the floor. Rubbing her eyes once more, she shook herself and tried to appear a little more alert. "Thank you," she said as the students lined up and piled their homework on her desk.
Once they had all done so – thankfully all essays having been handed in - all of the students looked expectantly up at Minerva who had gotten up from her seat which took more energy than she expected and to be quite truthful thought even possible.
Leaning heavily on her desk with her left hand, she internally thanked herself for picking different robes that morning – the ones with the longs sleeves meaning it was not quite as noticeable of how dependent she was on the table for support.
Lifting her wand and giving it a practised swish, notes appeared on the board and the class started copying down their lesson. Perhaps it was because their usually brisk and stern Professor was looking rather under the weather or because exams were approaching faster than expected, but the students were surprisingly well-behaved for the whole hour and Minerva, therefore, did not need to raise her nearly broken voice once nor did she have to walk up and down the rows of desks to ensure that everyone was doing as they were told.
As the bell rang after what felt like an age, Minerva then finally made her way to the infirmary. Thankfully the trip was uninterrupted and swift. Pushing open the large oak doors and gratefully that the Hospital Wing was empty apart from the matron, Minerva cleared her throat to mark her presence.
"Good Lord, Minerva what ever have you done to yourself?" exclaimed Madame Lynch.
Minerva opened her mouth to answer but clamped it shut again when another wave of nausea crashed over her. Her body tilted and her feet slid a little on the floor forcing Minerva to immediately sit down on the closest chair.
Madame Lynch stood shocked for a while and continued to stare at Professor McGonagall who rarely came to the Hospital Wing if ever she could help it. Then, as Minerva's body seemed to weaken even more, the matron suddenly got over her initial shock and her face now bore the expression she used only when dealing with her patients.
"Come along now, Minerva," she said, wrapping Minerva's green tinged arm around her shoulders and guiding her towards an empty hospital bed.
"I'm not feeling very well," said Minerva in such slurred speech that Elizabeth was now very alarmed. Never before had she ever seen the Transfiguration Professor in such a state and never again did she ever want to see her like this – the look of confusion, illness and inattentiveness did not suit Minerva McGonagall.
"Okay, Minerva, could you please just lie down in the bed and I will come back to check on you once I get my wand," said Elizabeth, lowering Minerva onto the bed and making sure that her friend was secure enough before leaving from through the curtains she had just pulled closed around Minerva's bed to fetch her wand and some potions.
Okay, wifi is awful and I am cold and sick so sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Scotland is great but my goodness it is cold! Have a nice day and hope you enjoy! :)