I'll be by your side, wherever you fall
In the dead of night, whenever you call
Please don't fight, these hands that are holding you
A/N:
~Dear Pottermore, stop changing dates of things! The date of when the Hogwart's Express was made and when Evangeline Orpington was the Minister (the dates been changed by almost 90 years!) They've also changed the fact that it wasn't Evangeline that came up with the idea of the Hogwart's Express and made another Minister of Magic be responsible for it.
~So, what I have was "cannon" when I started planning PoaG. I rest my case and I'm not changing anything.
Chapter 31 - Reflecting, Part III
November 15th, 1942 (continued):
Minerva sank into one of Professor Dumbledore's comfortable chairs with a sigh of deeply rooted frustration. She had hoped that her studies on the sirens would be a welcome distraction today, not add to her already troubled mind. Ever since finding Quizzle's diary, her research was turning up dead-ends everywhere; there just simply wasn't enough information about them. Even their history was vague. She found that during the last Millennium there was very little events of noteworthy importance except for their apparent split with the merpeople during the 8th century, coincidentally around the same time that the laws of Transfiguration began to emerge, and recordings of encounters of the mysterious sub-species.
Nothing in Hogwarts that is, Minerva reminded herself. If there was any hope of advancing on her theories, she needed to investigate beyond what the castle had to offer. She and Professor Dumbledore had a sneaking suspicion that the Ministry held more information about the sirens and merpeople locked away from the public.
She had an idea as for where to start, when she got the chance. The siren at Loch Ness had not been forgotten in her mind, far from it. When looking at the recorded sightings of sirens and merpeople at that peculiar loch, she thought it odd that there were none, until after 1925. The year she was born. In fact, there were many sightings that year alone. Minerva tried telling herself that it was just coincidence, but she had a feeling that it wasn't.
With a loud clap, Minerva closed a rather large book and Levitated it- probably a little too fiercely -back to the shelf where it belonged. With a sigh, the witch sank into a nearby armchair and rubbed her temples, trying to forcefully remove the stress from her life. Poppy's odd behaviour from yesterday hadn't entirely ceased; while she seemed to be much more focused, she still kept her connection sealed off which of course caused the tension between her and Rolanda to increase, and Minerva had ended up leaving the table at lunch.
Not much had changed with Augusta and Kevin, and while Pomona had received a flower this morning, Queen Anne's Lace this time, she was not herself what with Hestia being distant as of late and spending more of her time with her friend, Mr Petalson. Pomona couldn't figure out why her fellow housemate was ignoring her, or if something was wrong; every time she'd try to ask, Hestia would frown, look away and say it was 'nothing'.
Minerva had been forming a suspicion that whoever was sending the flowers had some kind of connection with Hestia, but now she wasn't so sure, much like she was still unsure about Claire's message and how to respond appropriately. She had kept the sword on her person since then, vowing to never leave it behind, but other than that she didn't know what to do. She needed to talk with Galatea, but that would have to wait. Her mentor was far too busy.
She heard the click of the door handle turning and quickly dismissed her thoughts as Professor Dumbledore walked in. Minerva noted that his sapphire eyes were weary, raising cause for concern, but she still managed to flash a smile in his direction, not that it was hard. Today, especially, she noticed that simply being around him lifted the thoughts that burdened her heart.
"How was the Animagus class today, Professor?"
Dumbledore frowned as he took off his spectacles and began to wipe them with the sleeve of his robe, walking towards her as he did.
"The usual, I think. I still don't seem to be reaching them regarding how to be 'open minded' with magic at its purest form and the dimensions with which magic flows through, how it binds with us and how we manipulate it when crossing the threshold to become an Animagus." He shrugged, then placed his glasses back on as glanced back at her with a half smile. "I continually have to remind myself that not everyone is as immensely talented as you are, my dear."
Her eyes sparkled as her genuine smile returned again. She couldn't explain why his compliments affected her like they did, especially considering she was used to receiving them in regards to her magic. Usually she'd brush such comments off and never let them bother her, but not with Professor Dumbledore. Maybe it was because he tended to treat her as though she was equal to him, instead of fawning over her like her other teachers and classmates did.
"I'm sure one of them will understand soon, if not, I could always help. I seem to be getting nowhere with my research on the sirens." She sighed. "I think I'll have to divert to 'Dimensions of Magic' as my topic soon if I'm to get my essay for you finished."
"Hmm, I was afraid of that." Dumbledore sat down in the chair next to her. Suddenly Mozart popped into the room, carrying a tray with two cups of steaming tea. He asked if there was anything else he could do for them, but the witch and wizard both shook their heads and he left without another sound word. Minerva simply had to catch a whiff of the brew in her cup to know it was made with her favourite highland heather, causing a faint smile on her lips as she took a careful sip.
"Over my many years," the professor continued, "I've come to learn that some mysteries are meant to be discovered with an adventure attached to them- and I daresay that this is probably one of them."
Minerva nodded in agreement. "That is my thinking as well, Professor. I have a good idea where to start too, when I have the opportunity."
"Oh?" Dumbledore raised a curious brow. "And where might that be?"
"Loch Ness. With the number of sightings of sirens in a single year alone, I wonder if there's a school of them hiding in the depths."
The witch couldn't help but notice how his eyes twinkled at her answer, nor feel that she had missed seeing it over the last couple of months. He really worked himself too hard.
"I think you might be right. Actually, that's where I found Fawkes. He had recently experienced a Burning Day and was being attacked by a hawk when a siren intervened, throwing her triton at the bird and killing it. She sang to him and nursed him back to health, then asked me to take care of him. He's never forgotten that song."
"That's incredible," Minerva breathed, looking away from him for a moment to hide her churning thoughts. Now it made sense, the reason why the mystical bird knew the same song that had been sung to her. The only question was, why did he seem to always sing it around her? She completely dismissed it as being coincidence now. There was one detail about the story, however, that Minerva found odd. In all her research, not once had it ever been mentioned that sirens carried tritons. The merpeople did, in part due to their aggressive nature, but never sirens.
"It is indeed," Dumbledore said, and her green eyes glanced back at him as he continued. "I don't know about you, but it feels as if we haven't had a proper chat all term."
"Yes it does, these past few days alone seem to have spanned weeks, but in reality, you've only just arrived back at Hogwarts. Speaking of which," she nodded toward his previously injured arm, "have you completely healed?"
"Overnight, as I knew I would, despite Madam Nurix's persistence on fixing the fracture." The professor pursed his lips with a bit of a smirk. "I got quite a telling off."
Minerva chuckled, and laughed louder as her smile spread to his own face. "As you should have, Professor. I found out that you were aiding the Nightingales against the Untergang."
"Did you now?" Dumbledore's brilliant eyes twinkled with intrigue.
"Yes, Sir. Helena even mentioned that you disappeared on her before she could reach you."
The professor shrugged shamelessly. "What can I say, I detest being hovered over and pestered for medical reasons when I'll be healed the next day, no matter what they do."
"Except for your sleep." She didn't know what made her speak so bluntly. Two months ago she wouldn't have dared to step so far across their mentor-student relationship. However, Professor Dumbledore didn't seem to mind, in fact he seemed to welcome her candour.
"You have a fair point, my dear, although this time my loss of sleep was for a good cause." He paused for a moment to whisper a silencing charm around the room. "Professor Merrythought asked me to guard Madam Nurix for a few hours last night."
"Did you get to talk to her? How was she feeling?"
"Much more rested compared to when you saw her, from what I understand." The professor tilted his head. "Why do you ask?"
The green-eyed witch looked down into her tea, resisting the subconscious urge to place a hand on the sheath of her silver dagger. "There was an unplanned visitor that, I believe, stirred up unneeded tension for Galatea and Helena."
The wizard's brows furrowed in confusion. "It wasn't Sgiath, was it?"
Minerva's expression mirrored his. "Er- no, it wasn't. Pardon me, but why would Sgiath even be there?"
"Ah, Professor Merrythought didn't explain then. I didn't think she would, but nonetheless. You see, she and Sgiath are- as one can best describe -estranged adopted siblings."
She stilled as an odd prickle started in the back of her mind, slowly moving forward in her consciousness until her vision became blurry, as if she was moments from sleep. Minerva blinked it away. "Estranged?"
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed, though I believe their tale ought to be told by Professor Merrythought herself, rather than me."
Minerva agreed, if anything because it gave her another excuse to see her again.
"So tell me my dear, who was this visitor then?" he asked as he set his teacup down. When he gave her his full attention, the witch thought she caught a strange glint in his eye. Believing it to be nothing but the odd light in the room, Minerva continued explaining.
"It was a Seer," she answered. Professor Dumbledore stared at her with a look of such disbelief that it caused Minerva to laugh. "I didn't believe it either, but Galatea seemed convinced."
"Hmm, that is strange." The professor's hand stroked the auburn beard he was beginning to grow out. "Well, I can assure you that neither Professor Merrythought, nor Madam Nurix, seemed particularly troubled on such a thing."
The witch smiled softly at his assurance, but it quickly faded when she thought she saw a book on the far right turn its pages on its own out of the corner of her eye. Yet, when she turned to look, it was closed. Narrowing her eyes, Minerva placed her hand over her pocket. Something didn't feel right.
"However, they were concerned about you and how you're handling the situation. I must confess, I find myself having similar concerns, my dear," Dumbledore continued, tilting his head as he voiced his query. "You were very quiet this afternoon, almost distant. I can't that imagine any of this is very easy for you, how are you truly coping with what has happened?"
The witch frowned, a bit perplexed that her mentor was so relaxed. Either he was unconcerned, or hadn't yet picked up on the strange atmosphere.
"I- um, I'm moving forward, I guess. There's really not much I can do, but worrying and dwelling on it further won't help," she replied, attempting to keep her voice even. "But it was very good to see Helena alive and well again."
"Any nightmares or trouble sleeping?"
Minerva whipped her head around, suddenly hearing distant whispers. She puzzled over what this could mean as she tried to concentrate above the sound of the wind coming through the window, but they faded as if they were never there.
"Nothing of note, Sir," she answered absently, her focus clearly distracted.
"So you are having them then?" the wizard questioned persistently, but Minerva barely heard him. The whispers returned, but they didn't form any coherent words and a chill came over her body, making her shiver.
"Miss McGonagall?"
Broken from her concentration, her green eyes snapped in his direction, only to find that Professor Dumbledore was gone- his chair empty. Before Minerva's confusion had time to register, her tea was suddenly in flames. She tried the Extinguishing spell, but nothing came of it. Now she was absolutely certain that something was amiss.
Thankfully, the fire didn't seem to be going anywhere, it just burned away merrily within its confines. Cautiously, Minerva placed the cup on the table while reaching into her pocket.
"You won't be needing that," Dumbledore's voice echoed in her ears, as her fingers wrapped tightly around her wand. She thought she caught the distinct smell of sherbet lemons, and her heartbeat relaxed a little- but then her senses were heightened once again when another trick was played. This time, all the books in the shelves broke free from their placement and became suspended in mid-air.
"Professor?" the witch called, but she received no answer. The books began swarming in patterns, weaving their way around the room. "Professor, what is going on?"
"It is a test, my dear, don't you see?" a dark, masculine voice that was dreadfully familiar to Grindelwald's hissed, chilling her blood. The room began to change; the brightly coloured walls turned charcoal, the normal candelabras turned into gothic thorn-like metal, while all of the miscellaneous Muggle objects that normally littered the Head of Gryffindor's office vanished.
Green eyes narrowed in suspicion, her unease rapidly disappearing now at the prospect of this being a challenge. She should have guessed this was part of her final lesson, that Professor Dumbledore would be testing her Occlumency. Yet, she noted that Avrenim's security barrier had not been triggered yet. There was still that odd feeling in the back of her mind, but Minerva was sure it couldn't be caused by Legilimency. She had never heard of such trickery-
She blinked and a faint smile danced in her eyes as she pondered that last thought. Tricks. It's all a trick of the mind. An illusion. But how is he doing it?
The books, still dancing in the air, came to a stop and shifted their bindings to face her in a threatening manner. Minerva stared them down as her thoughts raced, desperately trying to figure out how to stop the vision. From what Professor Dumbledore had said, the witch inferred that direct magic was probably not going to help her, especially if this was all in her head. She had to undo the illusion.
Lowering her head, Minerva began to close her eyes, when a large mirror appeared in her lap. She intended to ignore it, but that was proven impossible the moment she caught the reflection of two familiar, emotionally dead, hazel eyes glaring into the mirror- her mother's eyes.
She watched, her body frozen, as the woman in the mirror placed a hand on her reflected shoulder- causing Minerva to shiver, almost feeling it herself. When Isobel lowered her lips and began whispering, Minerva could hear it echoing in her own head, despite Isobel being safely trapped in the mirror. "It's not going to work, my dear. Nothing you do is going to work."
The witch opened her mouth to retort when something caught her eye in the reflection. At first she thought it was merely her imagination, but when the light in her green eyes- the spark of life that always seemed to deny her mother - faded, she quickly realised it was not her imagination. Minerva grimaced. 'Disturbing' didn't even cover how painfully wrong the reflection in the mirror felt to her, especially when her mother's lips upturned in soft, loving smile.
"Stop fighting, sweetheart," Isobel begged in a benevolent tone that was beginning to sound believable to her daughter's ears. "Please, stop. Everything will be right again if you just give up."
Minerva swallowed, her hands started shaking as the natural inclination to believe her own mother and the desire to have everything right consumed her thoughts.
"Give up, darling." Her voice was like a melody, so for her to surrender- yet that's where her thoughts brought her to reality. The idea of submitting to her mother, a woman who had caused so much pain to the people Minerva loved, was intolerable.
"Give up," Isobel repeated.
Closing her eyes, Minerva muttered her defiance. "No!"
She began to empty her mind, trying to calm the multitude of thoughts just as her professor had taught her. As sounds of explosions rang in her ears, she assumed it was the books being used as a means of distracting her progress and concentrated harder. An immense heat seemed to draw closer and closer, threatening to scorch her skin, yet the instant her mind was completely void of all thoughts and emotions, everything seemed to fade away.
It was when she heard the sound of Professor Dumbledore's soft, but calm tone that Minerva knew she had completed her lesson. "Very good, my dear. You've successfully countered your first illusion, as I'm quite sure you figured out."
While she was happy that her theory had proven correct, she found that the after effects were not so pleasant when a stubborn, pounding in head began to register. She winced, blinking rapidly as she opened her eyes; thankful that the room was not nearly as bright as it had been before. However, the pain was only marginally comparable to her joy of being able to seeing her real surroundings again and her professor sitting before her patiently. His warm expression and twinkling blue eyes was most comforting to her.
"My apologies, but the headache is unavoidable." He floated a few sherbet lemons her way with a gesture and continued speaking as she began to unwrap one. "I don't particularly favour using illusions as they're generally used for mental and emotional torture, but I felt it necessary to at least introduce you to them, so you could at least recognize the signs when someone is trying to inflict one upon you, as I know you began to suspect that a few things were wrong before I 'disappeared'."
Minerva nodded slowly. "Are there always signs before the illusion takes its full form?"
"If one wants to be successful, then yes. The method you used today is called Absens and while it is effective, there are two other practices you could also use, should you ever find you are unable to calm your mind. Denegration involves shrouding yourself with thoughts that everything within the illusion is false. Simple willpower is also helpful, although it is more effective when one is being possessed, or," he grimaced, "sliced. I pray that you never have to encounter either of those, my dear."
She frowned at how harsh his tone became when mentioning the latter. "Is that the method that Galatea uses when interrogating?"
The sigh that escaped him was enough confirmation for her and she wasn't sure what to think of that. "Considering the enemy she faces, I cannot blame her for resorting to such extremes, but under any other circumstance I would be compelled to bring it to the Ministry's attention. However, let's discuss the other Legilimency methods first, it might make things easier for you to understand.
"The first method is what I have been using on you in past lessons, it's known as Passive; there is no physical pain involved, but it can become rather uncomfortable. The Passive technique grabs thoughts and emotions, which can then be exploited into memories. Now the second method is called Aggro, and as you have no doubt guessed from its name, it is an aggressive form. Aggro is quick, fierce, and painful, uniquely designed to shatter Occlumency barriers effectively. Illusion is the third method that uses subtle tricks of the mind to either cause mental and emotional torture, or distract the victim into lowering their Occlumency barriers so someone else can slip into their head without much of a fight. I should also warn you that Illusions can be easily infused within dreams."
Professor Dumbledore paused, finishing his tea before continuing further and grimacing slightly at the topic he was about explain.
"As for Slicing and Possession, both methods are generally paired together due to their inherently cruel nature- in fact, they are unofficially known as the fourth and fifth Unforgivables. I have no doubt that, if they were curses, they would be dubbed as such, given that using them is illegal unless authorized by the Minister. Slicing starts off as Passive until the caster begins applying physical pain until the recipient's thoughts and memory begin to form. From there, the caster makes a magical incision that literally cuts out the memory." His voice became strained, as if highly disturbed by his thoughts. "The effect is comparable to someone cutting off nerves in the brain."
Minerva flinched, beginning to understand why Galatea did not wish her to be present during Dleag's interrogation.
"Each slice leaves a gap in their psyche, a gateway that opens more of the victim's memories, but also their body- giving the caster a perfect opportunity to possess their victim." Dumbledore continued to explain. "Possession causes the person's body to instinctually fight it with everything they have, causing an intense physical pain. It is medically impossible for anyone to deal with the effect for very long if both methods are used too frequently, the brain will eventually send frantic signals to shut down the heart and lungs as a means of 'escape'. The involuntary termination can still occur ten to twenty minutes after the caster has withdrawn."
The witch looked away, trying to come to terms with exactly what her mentor had done to Dleag, and probably did to so many others. It made her sick to her stomach. "And you find this... acceptable for Galatea to do?"
"Only because the Untergang themselves use such methods in excess." His eyes grew hard as his posture tensed. "I generally do not agree that lowering one's self to the enemy's level is necessary to win, but the Untergang is an exception I am willing to make. Their interrogation and fighting techniques are reprehensible and while Galatea and the Nightingales use similar tactics in those particular areas, they refuse to go beyond that. They are the only group willing to go so far, and it just might enable us to win."
Minerva considered his words, but found herself unable to judge either side- it simply wasn't her place. She had a feeling that she still did not know the full extent of the terror that the Untergang inflicted, but already armed with her current knowledge, she had a hard time imagining what else there could be.
"Is there a way to combat Slicing?" she asked.
"In a way. The best method is to simply keep your mind shielded to prevent the attack, as it's near impossible to recuperate any sort of defensive ground after a 'slice' is made. However, there is more you can do if Possession is used. I do not advise using Absens, it's not very effective, but Resilio is. Remember when I had you try rebounding my spell several weeks ago? That's exactly what you must do against Possession, except it will take an extraordinary amount of strength to do so," his sapphire orbs stared at her seriously, "and I do not suggest immediately dropping the connection like you did with me, if you wish to escape."
A light blush coloured her cheeks. The witch hadn't particularly enjoyed that session, or that day for that matter, as she had also discovered that Galatea or Helena had probably tampered with her memories. While Minerva had accomplished the feat and rebounded the Legilimency spell against Professor Dumbledore, she halted her actions upon realising what she had done. He had blocked her, of course, and had been quite pleased with the outcome, but nonetheless she had invaded his mind. Minerva was still not, by any means, looking forward to exploring that branch of magic next year.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said softly before cautiously picking her teacup up again. "Professor, do you think it's possible to recover a tampered memory that spans seven days?"
She was immediately thankful he wasn't the one drinking tea just now, as she was quite certain he would have likely choked at her question. He stared at her for several moments utterly astounded, shaking his head softly.
"Seven days... that would..." he cleared his throat. "That would entirely depend on the condition of the memory sequence."
"A few parts are erased, but most of it was gradually suppressed over a span of four days, making it seem as if it was forgotten like-"
"-like short-term memory," Dumbledore finished, then hummed with thought. "I have heard of such scenarios. In my experience, most are typically done to someone who has experienced a great trauma of some kind. Do you remember what happened around the time of the adaquel?"
"I have no memory of what happened, it was created when I was almost four years old."
"Understandable." The professor fell silent, musing over possibilities and options, while Minerva stared into her tea in an attempt to calm herself. The possibility of Galatea or Helena being responsible for seven days of her life being unknown to her still stung her greatly. She so desperately wanted to know what happened; if it was the reason that the two women- particularly Galatea -had been forced to pretend that they didn't know Isobel or her children, why they didn't feel they could visibly show their love to any of them, why Galatea had been watching all of them since they arrived at Hogwarts- if not longer!
The mere thought of all that her mother had forced her guardians to do, made her hands shake- although this quickly stopped as she realised what she had called them in her mind. Guardians. They were both her guardians. While it hadn't been clear before, Helena had shown herself to be ready and duty bound to protect Minerva with her life, she more than deserved to be called that now. The more she pondered the change in their relationship, the more she also began to acknowledge that Galatea was becoming something close to a surrogate grandmother. Sure, Minerva had contemplated about their bond on this level before, but this time she was quite certain and able to accept it. However, how to tell the woman was another question entirely- one that she didn't have an answer for yet.
"I believe that if the process of bringing the memory back to your conscious mind," the professor continued, startling her out of thought in the process, "is done properly and delicately, it is still possible for it to be recovered. It would take time however; reliving the length of memory alone would take about two days, not to mention the additional time it would take to undo the original damage."
"Two days?"
"It might even take three depending on how much was erased and how long the process of uncovering it takes- the longer the better, in my opinion."
Minerva nodded, trying to figure out how she and Mikail could possibly attempt such a feat without raising suspicion. To her great disappointment, she realised that it would be best to attempt to recover this memory last, just in case their activities were discovered. With a sigh, she finished her tea and set it down before looking up at her professor.
"Thank you, Sir." She glanced at the clock, noticing with surprise that it was past nine. The illusion must have lasted longer than she thought. "Is there anything else you'd like to talk about tonight?"
"Oh, anything else I think we can discuss as we walk back to the Gryffindor Tower." The professor stood up, offering her his arm in a rather polite and gentlemanly way, which she accepted without hesitation. "Just because we're ending our Occlumency lesson, my dear, does not mean we cannot chat after Animagus Studies anymore."
His smile was infectious and Minerva couldn't help but mimic him as they walked up to the Gryffindor Tower. As they meandered up the long corridors the professor kept his questions basic, personal, but casual as they passed other professors or prefects out on patrol. When they came upon a secluded area, however, his questions became more direct. Minerva didn't mind it, in fact, she enjoyed these walks and his conversations more than she should. Sometimes she would secretly wish that the staircases would force them on a detour or she could somehow extend the hallways to prolong their time together.
"We haven't talked about your family for a while. Have you heard from your youngest brother since Mrs McGonagall took him back to your home?"
She hesitated, her mind drifting back to her mother's accusation against Galatea. "I have, Sir."
"Is everything well, or is there something else on your mind?"
It could have just been the moonlight catching in his eyes, but Minerva was quite certain she saw concern for her. She quickly shielded her light hearted feelings and reminded herself that he had been the one to suggest to Galatea that she should stay at Hogwarts during Christmas.
"Oh, Cayden is more than happy to be back at the Manor- being spoiled by our parents, no doubt." She couldn't help but smile thinking about how cheerful her brother had sounded in his last letter. He was so blissfully unaware of the problems in his family, or he was choosing to ignore them at least. "It is more the matter that my parents are disappointed that they will not be seeing me over Christmas as they'd hoped, or assumed, in Màthair's case."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Dumbledore said grimly. "I didn't think there would be a problem when I suggested you to say at Hogwarts for Christmas. With the threat of the Untergang hunting Aurors and ex-Aurors looming about, I had thought that Mrs McGonagall would keep all three of you away from your home, but I guess I was wrong."
"It's not your fault, Professor. My màthair can be very unpredictable."
"That is something I will agree to," he said with a sigh, clearly troubled as his pace slowed. "My dear, have you discovered any possible explanation as to why she has tampered with your memories?"
Minerva returned his gaze, seeing a very deep and true sincerity in his eyes. She was so tempted to ask, to simply banish the unwritten rules of conduct between professor and student and just ask him if the thought of her mother's tampering had been genuinely troubling him for some time. However, she wouldn't dare do something improper, so instead, she came up with something more obscure.
"Unfortunately, I am quite positive I won't be discovering the reason behind that for a while, Professor," the witch paused, letting her words linger in the air long enough for her to take note of the disappointment integrating into Dumbledore's posture and expression, "however, I am optimistic towards any clues that might be gained from studying my memories. At this point, anything is helpful."
The relief in his voice was clearly evident as they neared the portrait hole. "I know I have said this before, but if you ever need something to help you, if you have questions or need any materials, please let me know."
The dark haired witch bobbed her head. "I do, and thank you, Professor."
The Fat Lady had been all smiles the moment she saw them coming and proceeded to chatter away about some melody or another until Minerva could give the password, and it was then that Professor Dumbledore uttered his final question.
"Do you know how many times your mother has tampered with your memories? Are there just the two that we've discussed?"
"Actually, those two were not created by my màthair- the other seven, however, are entirely her doing."
It took him a bit longer to respond this time, but she waited patiently, watching him mull over this particular gem of information. The professor was clearly troubled by this information, perhaps more than when she told him about the seven day adaquel, but it was also apparent to her that he was restraining himself. Minerva wasn't sure if he was simply trying to hold back any further questions, or whether he was simply very angry.
"I see..." he almost whispered, blinking owlishly before walking away.
His words cause an uneasy feeling in the pit of the witch's stomach as she contemplated his words, realising that she really didn't 'see' what he was talking about.
November 16th, 1942:
Getting all three of them out of Hogwarts to visit Helena again unnoticed took a quite a lot of planning, especially since the day coincided with Pomona's plans to help Professor Beery tend to the mandrakes that had finally arrived. Augusta managed to persuade Kevin and his friends to keep Mikail occupied so they could sneak out without worrying about him suspecting anything. As for the three witches escaping the castle; in a carefully timed plan, Poppy and Rolanda secretly sneaked into the Defensive Art's classroom while Minerva used her Animagus form to distract a few first years away from the door. After escaping the young students, the grey tabby sauntered back to her sisters.
They expected Merrythought's office door to be closed, but what they didn't expect was to see the professor present in the room. They had assumed she'd be either at the Nightingale Headquarters or already with Helena by now, but instead she was at her desk grading papers and greeted their surprised faces with a half smile.
"Ah, there you three are," she said as she made a few quick marks then put the quill down.
"Y-You were here all along?" Minerva pursed her lips with a bit of a glare. They had gone through so much trouble planning everything with such caution, believing Galatea wouldn't be around to summon them to her office.
The elder witch nodded and rose from her desk, joining them in front of the Floo. "I knew you three would be able to come up with some clever way to get in, so I decided to wait for you and finish a spot of marking in the meantime." Her crystal blue eyes sparkled as if entertained by Minerva's light hearted scowl as she reached for the green powder. "Shall we?"
As Galatea traveled to St Mungo's, the girls quickly discussed the minor change of plan. In truth, Minerva was still partially amused by the fact that the professor had tricked them as she did.
"Do you think she suspects anything?" Rolanda asked.
"No, and she won't if we continue to play along," the green-eyed witch said as she grabbed her own handful of powder and stepped into the fireplace. "We wanted to go and see Helena anyway, so we'll just sneak out after we've visited her."
The girls meet up with the elder witch, who still seemed to be in a better mood than either of them anticipated, then ventured off once more. As they neared Helena's room, Minerva realised that it hadn't entirely occurred to her as of who would be watching over the matron when Galatea wasn't present. Just as they began to step inside, she heard a vaguely familiar deep Scottish voice sternly reminding Helena that she needed to stay on the couch, she realised it was Sgiath.
As she watched him carefully, Minerva noticed that the wizard was very different than how he behaved during the Nightingale meeting- he even appeared almost pleasantly civil in his mannerisms. It surprised her when she heard the adults called each other by their actual names, instead of their aliases. She learned that Sgiath's real name was Gregor, and that he was actually capable of a little humour- going as far as calling Minerva and her sisters 'Galatea's pack', which earned him an eye roll from the elder witch, but also a chuckle.
Still a little anxious about Gregor being around, the green-eyed witch continued to keep a close eye on him as she and her sisters spoke to Helena. Despite how weary she still appeared, the fact that she was no longer confined to her bed was a definite improvement. Galatea stepped out of the room with Gregor to ask one of the Hospital's elves for some tea, but Minerva was quite certain it was more so that the two Nightingales could have a private conversation.
Helena, obviously feeling a little more energetic than the last time they had visited, was excited to hear about their activities, how Hogwarts was running, and about Mikail. Poppy promptly informed her that everything was fine and under control, before asking about the matron's own health. In two days Helena would be back at the school, even though she was not allowed to return to her duties until Monday with strict orders not to strain herself.
The tea arrived at Helena's table and their conversation turned towards Quidditch, causing Rolanda to gleefully tell the matron all of her opinions about the upcoming Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw match. Although Minerva was interested, she couldn't help but subconsciously tune out her sister when she caught a few murmurs between Galatea and Gregor near the door.
"I... Gregor, I hope you know that this means a lot to me. You watching over her, it gives me some peace of mind."
"I know, and it means a lot that ye're even letting me."
Minerva heard Galatea sigh and she strained to hear the next words. "Maybe one of these days, we'll get this right."
Gregor huffed, although there was amusement in his voice. "Keep telling yerself that piuthrag [little sister]."
Minerva smiled. Whatever had happened between them in the past, it was obvious that they were both putting forth an effort to rekindle their relationship, and during such a trying time for Galatea it was good to hear that her mentor was able to depend on someone else- despite that it was Gregor. She had to remind herself that there were two sides to everyone, including him. When the elder witch came in, Minerva was quite certain that she saw her smile before hiding it behind the rim of her teacup.
Galatea joined them in the conversation, but not before scolding Helena for trying to get up and pour herself another cup; instead, doing it for her and earning a chuckle from Minerva. It was ironic to watch the pair in completely opposite roles to how they had been only a few months ago, and although she didn't voice this, both women seemed to realise what she was thinking and blushed softly.
The trio stayed a while longer, before deciding it was best to leave. They said their farewells and discreetly made their way down several floors to the Record Department. There was complete silence in the room, broken only by the bell that rang when they opened the door. For a moment Minerva thought that perhaps the department was closed, until a voice rang out down the long corridor visible from behind the front desk that was covered in scattered papers.
"Just a minute!"
A moment later the sound of something rolling along the floor echoed in their ears and a gleeful holler of enjoyment broadcasted the entry of an old man zooming across the room and straight towards the desk, spinning around in circles effortlessly as he went. The chair came to an abrupt stop, tossing the wizard to his feet, who clapped his hands excitedly, his grin wide and his eyes shining.
"Oh how I love swivel chairs! You know, despite being an American Muggle, that Thomas Jefferson really did the world, both worlds, a service by inventing them!" He grabbed his quill, dipped it in the ink and looked up at the three of them expectantly. "Now, how can I help you three?"
Is he off his rocker? Rolanda thought to the others, trying to suppress her laughter.
Minerva smirked softly at the remark. "I'd like to request a copy of my medical records."
"Name please?" he asked.
"Minerva McGonagall."
The sparkle of happiness in the old man's eyes seemed to die the instant he heard her last name. "McGonagall you say?"
"Yes, Sir." She held her breath, fearing some sort of security measure that her mother could have put in place to prevent her from ever accessing the files, but that, thankfully, didn't seem to be the case.
He bobbed his head, muttering his agreement before turning away from them. "Coipey! I need file number 62466-646."
"646 you say?" squeaked a tiny voice in surprise from somewhere down the long, long corridor. "Wasn't that the file requested-"
"Coipey," the wizard warned, "the file, please."
"Yes, Sir."
Poppy narrowed her eyes, casting a glance of suspicion at Minerva. The old man smiled as he turned back towards the girls, held up a hand, and began counting down with his fingers. The instant he reached 'zero' a file appeared on the desk.
"Aha! There we are," he said as he handed it to her. "Anything else?"
Minerva glanced at the file, running her fingers over the cover of the documents. "What did Coipey mean by my file being 'requested' by someone?"
"Oh nothing, he was mistaken," the man said quickly, crossing out something written on his notepad as he did.
She was quite certain the man was lying, but she simply nodded, forbidding herself from questioning the man further, it was obvious she would not get an answer. She did, however, have one more thing to ask him, despite knowing that it would most likely be impossible.
"You wouldn't by chance be able to let me access my mother's records, would you?"
"You are not one of her former guardians, nor do you have permission; so no, I cannot release them to you, Miss."
"I didn't think so," she frowned, before remembering her manners and smiled graciously at the man. "Thank you for your time, Sir."
The plan had worked well enough, or so it seemed. Mikail apparently hadn't suspected anything and neither did anyone else, allowing the three to peacefully study in their dormitory for the rest of the day. Minerva and Rolanda worked together on their Herbology essay while Augusta and Poppy, having already finished, sifted through Minerva's medical records. Mico and Oscar were sitting in their respective owner's laps, much to Minerva's amusement and annoyance. The brown tabby had a knack for laying on her homework and books, trying to get attention, especially today it seemed.
"We still need to add something about venomous plants."
"What about using Diffindo against the Novaculan vitis?"
"That's not right," Minerva said, flicking her quill to point in the book. "It's the Venomous tentacula that requires the Diffindo-" Big brown paws suddenly scurried after the feather as Mico launched himself at it, but before Minerva could pull it away, it was successfully snatched by the little furball who ended up slipping on the book and fell to the floor. Nevertheless, the cat seemed quite happy with himself.
"Mico, you little bugger!" his mistress scolded, although not too harshly as she couldn't help but laugh. "Come here you silly cat, you're getting ink all over your fur- no, don't lick it!"
She quickly seized the cat into her arms and began removing the black liquid as he squirmed.
"Aw, you're too hard on him, Min. You're spoiling all his fun!" Rolanda teased.
"Hmph, he can have fun without making a mess." She finished wiping away the ink and turned the feline around, bringing him to eye level, only to receive a hard stare back. "Oh, don't you look at me like that. I'm trying to work and you're getting in the way."
His tiny tail flicked back and forth, clearly unsatisfied with the outcome
"Wait, Gusta, did you find any records before October, 1925?" Poppy asked, looking towards the blonde witch.
"Uh- let me check." Augusta looked through her pile, then pulled out two documents and handed them to Poppy, who narrowed her eyes the instant she saw them.
Minerva put Mico back down, who immediately began playing with another feather. "Why would there be files from before my birth?"
"Usually for check-ups, but you would think they'd be filed under your mum's name, unless it was something of importance..." Poppy's eye brows rose. "Only twenty weeks in the beginning of June? But that would mean- unless their estimates were wrong, of course..."
"Poppy, if you're going to keep us shut out, at least tell us in full sentences what you're thinking," Rolanda grumbled, earning a glare from the hazel-eyed apprentice. Minerva, now completely sidetracked, wandered over to her side.
"This here says that Mrs McGonagall experienced 'abnormal levels of magic and extreme fatigue' related to the assumed twenty week fetus in her womb during early June of 1925. The next record states an accident or something occurred at twenty-eight weeks of development two months later in early August. If their time frame is correct," Poppy looked at Minerva, "it means you were born about three or four weeks prematurely- not that it's a big deal, just something of note. Actually, what's more concerning is that much of the August record is blacked out."
"Probably Màthair's doing. She knew she couldn't keep me from accessing the records so she resorted to preventing me from reading important information."
"Oh!" Augusta suddenly scrambled to pull out a large document of several pages that was clearly tainted by bold black lines everywhere. "I found this. It corresponds to when your overload happened, but there's really not much to see in it anymore."
Minerva flipped through the pages. Unfortunately, it seemed Augusta was right, there was hardly a sentence that didn't have at least one word blacked out. With a deep sigh, she gave it to Poppy to scour over for any possible medical hints that remained, then went back to her bed. She felt like she was getting nowhere, and her fury at Isobel was only increasing.
"I just don't understand the purpose of it all." The dark haired witch sat down, her head in her hands as she tried to understand what could have happened. "I can't fathom anything so horrible that could possibly drive someone into doing all this. It doesn't make sense."
"Cheer up, Min," Rolanda tried, smiling up at her. "Between your memories and the records, we're sure to figure out something."
Minerva stayed silent musing over her troubled thoughts once again, not convinced. It was when she felt a small, warm creature brushing its head against her arm that she looked down, only to see Mico looking up at her with a quill in his mouth offering it to her, and a smile spread across her face again.
For the record "62466-646" is "McGon-Min" in the phone letter/number system lol I didn't choose those numbers out of random!
Hope you enjoyed, and 'til next time!
~LinK