Profession of a Guardian
Another day in this carnival of souls
Another night settles in as quickly as it goes
The memories are shadows; ink on the page
And I can't seem to find my way home
~Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch
A/N: Apologies for the major delay. I had to hack through a stubborn writers block. Enjoy a long chapter again :D
Chapter 41 – Approaching the Brink
November 31st, 1942:
Her mind was fuzzy from the pain killer. The room spun as she gazed up at the ceiling and there was a faint echo to every sound she heard. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she was really hearing it or not. However, there was one feeling that Poppy knew she wasn't fabricating; the warmth of Mikail's hand and how smooth his thumb felt as it brushed over her hand.
They hadn't talked much. Poppy was tired, and frankly the echo running through her ears and in her head was borderline painful, but they didn't really have much to say to each other anyway. What they wanted to communicate, they did through touch. Mikail held her right hand in both of his and kept it clasped with a gentle firmness. Occasionally he pressed his lips against her hand for several moments and she could feel the air flutter over her knuckles as he breathed through his nose.
It was entirely too relaxing. She wished she could have this exact moment day after day for the next two weeks instead of lying in bed at home with her parents' fussing over her. While Poppy loved them dearly, she was needed here at Hogwarts with Mikail, her sisters, Augusta, and Helena.
Hopefully I'll be too tired to really notice the time pass by…
She felt Mikail move their joined hands away from his face and bend her arm towards her as he leaned in closer.
"Dumbledore knows," Mikail's deep accented voice softly vibrated in her ears, making her flinch a little as it echoed.
"Of?" she whispered back.
"Everything."
Poppy frowned, wishing she hadn't heard him say that so clearly as a spark of anger and jealousy burned in her chest. "Does that include what you refuse to tell me?"
"Regarding Minerva - yes," he answered with a bit of hesitation and delicately paused between words to allow her to hear him without difficulties. "I bound him to a Fidelius Charm."
"Why can you tell him, but not me?"
Mikail sighed, his grip on her hand tightening as he delayed responding for a minute. "I find myself doubting my master's intentions. Dumbledore thinks Karkaroff tried to recruit those Slytherins into the Untergang; not only that, but Minerva thinks he may have sent me here on her mother's behalf - to do exactly vhat I am doing; restore her memories."
So that's why Min was so persistent the other night! Blast her stubbornness, she should have just told me…
"What do you think?" she asked, and heard him swallow as she waited patiently for him to respond. Braving the nauseating spinning that warped her vision, Poppy cracked open her eyes and glanced at him. "Mikail?"
The wizard muttered something unintelligible, then breathed heavily, "I do not know. I am very confused."
Poppy thought 'tormented' was probably the more accurate word to use, but she didn't comment. She carefully moved her free hand and cupped his cheek. To her surprise, it was wet with tears.
"What will you do? Have you talked with him?"
"I cannot reach him, though I only tried once. I vill have to lay low for a vhile to keep Merrythought off my back. I have no doubt that she vill be keeping a closer eye on me than before." He paused, taking a deep breath, no doubt trying to collect his thoughts again. "I am sorry, I have vorried you. I did not mean to. You need to rest and your parents vill be here soon."
She desperately wanted him to stay longer, to open up and explain further, but she knew he had other things to do.
"Write to me, please?" Poppy pleaded, fighting off another wave of nausea as she watched him stand up. "Maybe have Rolanda send your letter with hers, if needed? If anything just to keep me occupied while lying in bed for two weeks?"
"Of course, though I should probably ask you, how vill you read it?"
"I'll have my elf relay it to me in private. Are you afraid of what my parents might think?"
"Russian's are not exactly viewed as trustvorthy right now- but that is not vhy asked."
"Well why did you then?
"You shall find out," he replied, leaning over to kiss her and making her giggle before disappearing from her side.
December 1st, 1942:
Albus Dumbledore stood outside the Wizengamot, guarding the doors fighting off the urge to pace in the very dark hallway. It was still early and the sky was dark, the bitter cold chilled his bones. He was very anxious to get this done and over with. Macnair, Lestrange, Goyle, and the Carrow twins were all being charged today, and as long as there was no Untergang intervention, the trails should move quickly as with the amount of evidence their fate seemed set in stone.
After the last trials had gone off without a hint of mischief, Albus was concerned about today. The first three hearings had been set as a test to see if the mysterious 'E.K' and the Untergang would show. The fact that they hadn't caused tensions to rise. Security was as tight as ever, but with multiple Wizengamot guards along with several Aurors and Nightingales- including Galatea Merrythought herself -all in attendance, everything appeared to be completely under control. The Minister was clearly taking no chances - especially with the members of the press. Reporters had been banned, even those from the Prophet. The only way anyone would find out what went on in these chambers was if someone were to speak about it publicly. Albus was extremely glad that all Wizengamot members had been charmed to ensure that it was impossible to do so.
It all seemed foolproof, and that should have calmed him, except he had learned long ago that such plans always seemed to go wrong.
The soft patter of an animal's paws against the marble flooring caught his attention. Albus turned his head, witnessing Galatea Merrythought emerge from the shadows as she transformed back into her human form.
"Morning," she greeted him, her voice like steel.
"Good morning, how does everything look?"
"It is deathly quiet and there are storm clouds on the horizon." The elder witch put her hands on her hips and she scanned the area around them twice over. "The perfect calm before the storm."
Albus copied her and as he looked up, he spotted Nathan squatting on top of a pillar near the ceiling. It was the perfect vantage point should there be an attack and he made a mental note to commend Nathan for it later.
"How high is your anticipation for an attack today?"
"99 percent," her eyes flicked up to where Nathan was stationed, then back to Albus, "and that's without a Seer's knowledge. With it, I am completely convinced."
He arched his brows. "I am afraid you have me quite baffled, my dear. Since when has Galatea Merrythought relied on a Seer."
"Not relying, just verifying the threat level and using other sources to ensure that proper measures are being taken to prepare for the necessary risk," Galatea quipped defensively, "which has also involved the Minister and myself dulling the culprits' memories of the night they were captured and tricking them into a Fidelius charm. They can never reveal Duil's name, or anything about her, should they escape."
"Impressive."
"Yes, well, we shall see just how impressive our battle strategy is against the attackers, and between you and me," she lowered her voice even further, "I am not so confident."
"You have been fighting them for over fifty years, Galatea. I do not think there is anyone who could better prepare us for an attack."
A strenuous sigh escaped her chest. "Believe me, old friend, no one can ever be prepared enough when facing these-" her speech halted and before Albus could look around, Galatea fired a spell at the pillar Nathan was perched on.
For a split second, Albus wondered if the witch had gone mad, until he heard the tell-tale sound of a body slumping to the floor.
The Untergang was here.
"Seinn gu glòir [Sing until glory]!" Galatea shouted as streaks of light soared towards them.
Albus arced his wand from the ground to the sky, casting a powerful Shield Charm as spell after spell crashed into the magical wall. Galatea flicked her wand in a practiced motion, exploding a pillar to their right and toppling it over, just in time to intercept the flurry of knives headed their way. Albus shot several quick spells through the dust before grabbing Galatea and hunkering down behind the fallen pillar as Nathan took his turn and hailed a series of curses at the enemy from above.
He postulated that there were at least six in this main hall, and depending on how skilled they were, the three of them together could handle this lot with minor difficulty. But Albus knew that they would not be here alone, and the question of how many there were in the other corridors was worrying, especially since the Untergang excelled at close-quarter combat.
"I cannot believe they only gave Avery two months!" Amelia commented as she and Rolanda tore through the grounds on their morning run together. The bitter cold air rushed around them and nipped at their nose. Even though the ban on Quidditch had been lifted, they continued running in the mornings.
"The Wizengamot pardoned Umbridge, deeming her 'under influence of the Imperius Curse', why is it so surprising that they were lenient on Avery as well?"
"Umbridge is younger and appears more innocent, and while they're both pure bloods, Umbridge's father is a Wizengamot member and one of the Minister's top advisors. Avery's father, on the other hand, is merely a respected textbook publisher and a very private man. Avery may have aided Minerva in the end, but he still committed the crimes. It doesn't help anyone by letting him off easy, I don't understand the reason behind it, unless..." Amelia's eyes widened and she slowed to a stop, "ahh, yes. That has to be it."
Rolanda put her hands on her knees, breathing heavily as she looked sideways at the Ravenclaw. "What does?"
"The Ministry gains nothing by locking him away for the rest of his life; not a young wizard with his cunning and ability. They must have discreetly offered him a position in MEAR in exchange for a life sentence in Azkaban." Amelia pulled the elastic band from her hair and combed her hands through her bronze locks with a scowl. "A smart move for the war effort, but an atrocious policy for enforcing the law."
Rolanda bobbed her head. "Hopefully we'll get a different sentence for the five others this time."
"Yes," Amelia said, tying her hair back up and stretching her legs, "hopefully."
With two enemies chasing them from behind, Albus and Galatea were also racing after two in front of them and towards the entrance chamber. As it would turn out, their opponents were far more skilled than Albus anticipated and were likely the Untergang's top elites. He had completely lost track of where Nathan was by now, but he couldn't worry about that.
Albus flicked his wrist and cast a rope that looped around one of the enemy's feet. The Dark wizard tripped and nearly brought down a second man, until Galatea finished them both off with two quick Severing Charms. The footsteps of the two pursuing them halted. In a split second, Albus burst into flames, transforming into his Animagus, and teleported both of them, narrowly avoiding a new barrage of knives.
They reappeared behind their attackers and Galatea blasted the wizard on the left off her feet, but the witch on the right resisted the spell, along with the stunner that followed. Albus's chest constricted with fear as he realised the witch was a Disruptor - the Untergang's elite anti-magic soldiers. He had been right.
Jets of light were flying everywhere, screams of pain and triumph echoed all around them. Albus caught a glimpse of Fawkes transporting Helena to a wounded Auror.
"You take out the left," Galatea barked as her opponent charged, "I shall deal with this!"
Obeying orders without question, Albus fired double Stunners at the Untergang wizard scrambling onto his feet. Both narrowly missed as his opponent avoided each spell with a quick acrobatic move. Using quick and fluid movements, Albus sent whip-like ropes of water that lashed at the wizard's feet and froze the water that splashed on the floor. His opponent jumped to avoid them, but skidded down the ice towards him. Their spells collided, exploding into each other with a loud crack.
Spell after spell, the seconds ticked by as Albus concentrated on blocking his opponent's vicious onslaught and ripping through his defences to disable his footing. He was skilled, very skilled, and Albus was becoming more and more annoyed as the Dark wizard apparated in and out of the room, jumping through other duels and challenging Albus to to do everything he could to avoid friendly fire. As he pursued, Albus leapt past a wandless Saighead slitting an Untergang wizard's throat with his steel kunai and threw him against the wall, nearly knocking over Albus's opponent in the process. Taking advantage of the distraction, Albus charmed the nearby curtain to wrap around him, forcing his opponent to concentrate on shredding it.
"Albus!"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Galatea toss a javelin in his direction, before grabbing her own opponent's hand, preventing her knife from gutting her. Whirling his wand around his body, Albus redirected the spear straight at his opponent's chest. Anticipating that his opponent would try to block the spike, Albus began to cast a petrifying charm.
Yet just as he was the middle of the wand movement, the Dark wizard did something entirely unexpected. Instead of trying to protect himself, he brandished his wand. At Galatea.
Albus watched on in horror as the captain snapped her opponent's neck and tilted her head up in time to hear the words, "Avada Kedavra!"
Spells flew back and forth across the corridors, whizzing past her and just narrowly missing her face. The shadows were everywhere. Hissing, laughing, cursing. At her pain, her fear and her determination.
She called for Galatea, trying to find her through the smoke and the noise, but no answer came. Every which way she looked, more shadows came - more faceless beings of ash and hellfire. She fled down the halls, firing spells over her shoulder, but it was useless. Wave after wave, they kept coming like an endless ocean. Faster and faster, she ran until she felt like she was flying, except now there was a ceiling, and two walls that pinned her to the ground.
The enemy had lead her into a trap.
Knives cloaked against magic came at her in every which way. Minerva summoned a stone shield, however it shattered into pieces after ten of them nailed into it. She fought off so many more with blood, sweat, tears, and a plentiful amount of magic, until she was overwhelmed with exhaustion. She called for her mentor again and again, but there was no answer.
The shadows had her now.
A knife in her back caused her to fall to the floor. Broken and unable to move, she lay on the ground, dying alone as her enemies left, their laughter echoing in her ears. As they moved away, gentle fingers weakly brushed against her fingertips and Minerva looked up to see Galatea dying beside her. The light in her pale blue eyes diminishing with every breath she took.
Tears welled in Minerva's eyes as she strained to grip Galatea's hand, whispering, "Seanmhair…"
Yet, when she finally managed to grasp the woman's hand in her own, there was nothing there. Darkness instantly filled her vision as everything disappeared. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing that she was in the Hospital wing. There were no shadowy beings, no knives being thrown, and no spells being cast. In fact, the sun was just beginning to creep through the room. Eileen Prince was sleeping in the bed across the room and the two petrified students were in the beds further down the room.
It was Wednesday and Galatea was at Wizengamot for the last of the trials.
It was just been a nightmare. She hadn't failed.
Not yet... There's going to come a time, though. I can't keep everyone safe. Her breathing grew heavy at the thought. She sniffed, steeling her heart. Stop. It does no good to contemplate what cannot be controlled.
"Miss McGonagall?"
Minerva looked across the room and towards the Matron's office where Matron Sana stood in the doorway, gazing at her with concern.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine," she answered without thinking as she peered behind the healer and into Helena's empty office. Minerva couldn't remember her saying that she'd be gone. "Where is Madam Nurix?"
"She is out."
"Is she with Professor Merrythought and Professor Dumbledore at the trials?" Minerva asked, ignoring the terse reply.
Matron Sana gave her an inquisitive look that told her that the conversation was over. "Madam Nurix will be gone all day, McGonagall, but where she went is strictly confidential."
Minerva refrained from sighing as she looked way. Either the matron had not been informed where Helena was going, or she had been forbidden to tell anyone; both cases were maddening.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Breakfast will be here for you soon, McGonagall. Rest now."
She nodded and obeyed orders, though the mere mention of food made her stomach churn. She was definitely not hungry at the moment.
Time seemed to slow down as a desperate cry of a phoenix rang in Albus's ears.
Before he could move a muscle, the deadly chartreuse light shot through the room, only to be met with a blinding burst of flame.
Instead of the Nightingale Captain falling to the floor, a tiny phoenix-chick did, and a surge of overwhelming pride and fear coursed through Albus. He sprinted towards them, scooped up his friend, and apparated to where Helena was taking cover. A blue bolt narrowly missed his shoulder, prompting him to turn his body sideways to keep Fawkes out of danger as he animated a nearby statue to deal with the attacker.
The Untergang's numbers were beginning to dwindle, but Albus knew theirs were as well. He could see three Ministry guards laying lifeless on the floor and he had passed an Auror while running through the corridor from before.
He placed Fawkes beside the preoccupied matron, when he heard Eidheann's voice over the din.
"Faol, the prisoners!"
He peered over the barricade to see that they were indeed getting away, so he nodded to Helena and set himself to race to their aid when Galatea shouted, "Let them go! Focus on the pack!"
Before anyone could even contemplate why Galatea ordered them to let the Slytherin's go, every Untergang member in the hall apparated to join the former students that were being led away. Several Anti-apparation jinxes were fired, but it wasn't enough. All but one managed to dodge the onslaught and disappear, and he was quickly dispatched after Saighead threw his final kunai.
With the exception of Fawkes's chirping, silence descended on the room as they contemplated the aftermath. Many were staring at Galatea through the smoke and haze. Her greying hair had come undone, her bruised and bloodied hands were still gripping her wand, and her dark blue tartan robes were in tatters. Yet, despite her current state, having almost faced death, along with the outcome of the battle, when she turned to face them, she wore the fierce mask of a leader - one that even Albus was inspired by.
December 4th, 1942:
Minerva was at her wits end being cooped up in the Hospital Wing. Two days ago, Helena allowed her to finally get out of bed and walk around, but Minerva had still been confined to the ward. She had been made to take things slow then, and yesterday she had absolutely no troubles and saw no reason that she should have to stay today or tomorrow for that matter. Minerva was partly convinced that Helena wasn't keeping her here for medical reasons anymore though.
Ever since the day that the five Slytherins were supposed to be put on trial, not a single newspaper had been seen in Hogwarts and many students, especially those with relatives working for the Ministry, had received letters from their parents telling them not to come home over the Holidays. Galatea had only stopped by once since then and had been just as stubbornly reluctant to discuss those events as Helena was. According to Rolanda, the rest of the Staff were being just as secretive and much more intolerant of misbehaviour. Mikail had even been sent to Dumbledore's office by Professor Merrythought, but apparently Dumbledore sent him away before he set a foot in the door and the two Heads of House had been arguing.
It seemed clear to Minerva that the Slytherins had indeed escaped, and if that had happened, it was plainly obvious that the Untergang were responsible, which was causing her to worry. The former students knew who she was, what she had managed to accomplish, and thanks to Malfoy, they also likely knew that Galatea had been giving her lessons; something the Untergang would likely take note of.
But would it be enough to confirm the myth, that's the question. Minerva closed her eyes, trying to calm herself and think with logic and reason. No need to get in a panic just yet. Galatea probably took preventive measures to ensure my safety, and if she hasn't said something already, then there should be no immediate danger.
Right?
Turning her head towards the window, Minerva got up and walked slowly over to it. She pressed her hand against the glass, wiped away the condensation that fogged up the glass and peered outside. Minerva would never admit it to anyone, but since the mysterious Seer had spoken to her several weeks ago while visiting Helena at St Mungo's, she'd been keeping a close eye on the weather. Despite temperatures being lower than normal, it was unseasonably dry this start of winter.
"Miss McGonagall, believe me when I say that, when the snow falls, it would be disastrous if you leave your sword behind."
In her father's most recent letter, Minerva knew that Caithness received a light dusting a few days ago, but nothing had happened, which made her realise the ambiguity in the Seer's warning.
She never did say where the snow would fall. What if it snowed somewhere else in the world when I found the trap door? Without the sword, I wouldn't have survived. Maybe there's no threat anymore. Maybe it's all over.
A strange animal's cry sounded throughout the room. It was almost cat like, but Minerva couldn't be sure. She looked around the Hospital Wing, but couldn't find anything. She heard it again, accompanied by an all too familiar thud thud thud thud of a feline pawing at the Hospital Wing door. Glancing towards the office, she knew Helena wouldn't approve of animals being let in, but Minerva decided to investigate anyway. She was very glad she did too, for when she opened the door, a brown tabby with big blue eyes, and a stubby tail that jerked back and forth, looked right up at her.
"Hello there, Mico," she instantly smiled and bent down and picked him up. "How on earth did you get up here?"
The handsome feline provided his mistress with no answer as he squirmed and struggled to get closer to her, letting a mighty purr that sounded more like a roar from his throat. He stuck his claws in near her shoulder, forcing her to hold him at her chest, and immediately began fiercely rubbing his head against hers. His paws danced over her the fabric of her robes, kneading with such force that it seemed as if he never wanted to let go. Minerva was almost taken aback by Mico's determination, but the moment she smoothed her hands down his spine, he snuggled even closer and calmed down. She frowned, acknowledging his change in behaviour as she continued to pet him, and noticed a distinct loss in his weight.
"Mico?" Augusta's worried voice preceded her as she dashed through the hall towards them. "Oh thank Merlin! I'm so sorry, Min. I have no idea how he got out! He hasn't been very peaceful with anyone and has been in a state since, well-"
"It's all right, Gusta," the dark haired witch tapped the tom on the nose, "I think he needed to get out." A sorrowful look flashed across her friend's face and Minerva immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry I couldn't save Oscar."
"It's not your fault, Min." Augusta swallowed, keeping tears at bay. "Besides, as much as I wish he could be here, I'm glad Poppy's alive. We have to focus on the good in no-win situations."
Minerva nodded, agreeing with her wisdom. "I know it's soon, but have you thought about going to Diagon Alley and adopting another companion? It might make grieving a little easier."
"Mum and Dad suggested that, but.. I don't know. I want to, however I would rather wait for the Monster to leave before doing so. Even if it wasn't the cause, I would rather not risk it." Augusta sniffed, then seemed to shift away as if she wanted to leave and seemingly forgetting about Mico before spinning around dramatically and turning back to Minerva.
"Oi I forgot! I was going to tell you that Michael Thomas was asking about you again," Minerva felt a little uneasy at that thought, but didn't have time to think properly on it as Augusta continued, "Oh it's not like that, Min! Absolutely nothing suspicious, so put that out of your mind," she scolded. "What I meant was, he is taking an interest in you."
The green-eyed witch looked down at Mico and scratched his ears. "Yes, well, everyone seems to be doing that these days."
Augusta rolled her eyes. "Don't act like it doesn't mean anything to you! You and Michael seemed to get along quite well after the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw match." She put her hands on her hips, flashing her friend a glare. "Did he, or did he not, practically sweep you off your feet on the dance floor before you fled?"
"He twirled me around with a surprising amount of grace and confidence, I will admit, but he certainly didn't 'sweep me off my feet'." Minerva turned walked behind Augusta to close the door, hiding a faint smirk from her lips as she finished her sentence in her head. Not quite so literally like Professor Dumbledore did anyway.
A half-smile quirked Augusta's lips. "I think you're in denial."
"Rubbish."
"Or-" the blonde witch jabbed her finger at Minerva "-you have someone else on your mind."
Minerva tried to hide her snort, but it was no use. "Augusta, I don't think I have heard anything so amusing as that this entire week! I told you before, my responsibilities come first, I do not have time for courting or anything remotely frivolous!"
"That doesn't mean you can't feel something for someone." Augusta's blue eyes glistened as she smiled with a distinctly smug look of triumph, prompting Minerva to sigh. She could easily shut down Augusta's bliss with a few sharp words, for there wasn't a single shred of truth to it, but she knew it would be cruel to end her friend's happiness right now, especially with the tiny throb of guilt in her heart.
"You are not going to give up, are you?"
"Nope!" her friend grinned. "I've got you figured out, Minnie-Kitty. Whether you believe it, or not, I have you!"
"In your dreams, dear," Minerva muttered lightly, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. She really did hate that nickname. "Thank you for stopping by, and for unintentionally letting Mico visit, but it is getting late and you should be heading back."
"Yes, she should, along with you," Helena interrupted, walking up behind them.
Mico clung tightly at Minerva as she spun around, hope surged up inside her at the prospect of freedom. "You're letting me leave?"
"Well, I cannot allow your cat to stay here and it doesn't look like he is going to let go willingly, so I suppose I must concede defeat."
Grinning broadly, Minerva took out her wand and banished her textbooks to her dorm. She couldn't wait to march through the halls again and breathe in the fresh air.
"On one condition," Helena glared at Minerva, "the minute you experience any sort of pain, you must come straight back to me."
The green-eyed witch hooked her arm around Augusta's and began steering them out of the Hospital Wing and to her freedom, calling over her shoulder as they left. "I will!"
"Do not make me hunt down Miss Louise or Miss Hooch if I begin to suspect anything, d'you hear?"
"Yes, Madam!" she called behind her, waving happily as she left Helena, along with her worries, behind, for the time being at least.
The moment she arrived in the Gryffindor common room, the entire House seemed to want to see her. Mico made a mad dash up to her dormitory before she could say anything, so she did her best to wave off the many questions. She caught Michael gazing at her, but didn't pay him any extra attention. She thanked her housemates for their concern, and praise, but eventually she had enough and practically had to order them to get back to studying. Of course, not everyone left. In fact, much to her displeasure, Michael actually came forward.
"Hey," he greeted with a smile on his face, "I bet you're glad to be out of the hospital."
She held her agitation at bay, after all, he wasn't doing anything especially annoying. "Well most people are, aren't they? One starts to lose their sanity after being there for more than a couple of days."
The wizard smirked. "I know the feeling. Say, um, Minerva," he shifted a little, "I was wondering if you would like to maybe join me in Hogsmeade tomorrow?"
Green eyes flickered away. It wasn't like he wasn't an attractive young man, for he was, but Minerva couldn't bring herself to say yes. "I appreciate the offer," she returned his gaze now, "but since I have been in the hospital for the past few days, I will be spending the day studying in the castle instead."
"Oh, right, of course." Michael flushed, "I should have realized that. No problem, maybe next time then."
"Possibly," Minerva murmured, walking away to join Rolanda and Augusta at the bottom stairs.
"Well?" Augusta asked, seeming to deliberately avoid Minerva's gaze as they marched up.
"Well what?"
"Are you going with him to Hogsmeade or not?"
"I am not going to Hogsmeade at all because in case it slipped your mind, our exams are in three days. I must study," she replied sharply. Her friend huffed and shook her head and muttering under her breath. Minerva pursed her lips as suspicion rose in her mind. "Gusta, you're not trying to set me up on a date with Michael Thomas are you?"
"Uh..." again, she avoided Minerva's gaze, sending the dark haired witch into outrage. She grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her to a halt.
"Augusta!"
"Oh come on, Min, lighten up! You're the only one out of the five of us who hasn't been out with a boy- or at least someone -yet."
"Whether or not I enter a courtship with anyone is my business and mine alone! I would ask you kindly to do yourself a favour and stay out of it!"
Augusta waved her off with a playful scoff. "It's not like it matters anyway, you're far too stubborn to take a day off your school work and live a little!"
Minerva held back a frown. She couldn't deny her quest to achieve top marks, but she wasn't sure if she liked this growing stereotype her housemates had of her.
If it keeps Michael at bay though, surely it can't be a bad thing then.
But despite her thoughts, Minerva couldn't decide if she was afraid of Michael pursuing her, or whether it was just annoying. No matter the case, she would never admit her feelings on the matter to anyone.
December 7th, 1942:
Monday was rather a quiet day. Students were busy taking their exams and studying for future ones that there wasn't much mischief about. However there was something heavy in the air, something solemn about this day in particular. Just one year ago, the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor.
All through the day, many whispered their memories of when they heard the news. Most talked about how happy everyone had been, after all the Americans had finally agreed to join the war that seemed to doom both worlds. Yet as always when talking about such a tragedy, there were those who whispered about the tears shed, or didn't talk at all. Galatea Merrythought was one of the latter. She was very noticeably silent as the historic day passed them by.
As Minerva took her Defence Against the Dark Arts exam, she couldn't help but glance up at her mentor. Galatea seemed uncharacteristically content with not having to teach today, and although Minerva was able to concentrate on her exams, her thoughts would occasionally drift towards that fateful day. She remembered with clarity of the conversation Galatea had shared with her, particularly her comments about Matthew Larcille. When the sun had fallen, Minerva caught the professor in the hall after dinner, her eyes were glazed over and she didn't appear to be paying much attention to anyone. The Gryffindor contemplated it for a moment, then against her better judgement, she decided to follow her mentor in her Animagus form.
The fact that Galatea did not realise Minerva was following her after a while was concerning, considering how uptight and cautious the professor had been this past week. It prompted Minerva into thinking how on earth that the death of one man, an American Specter named Matthew Larcille, could seemingly cause Galatea to act so unusual. All Minerva knew about him was that he met Galatea in 1895 and had grown very close to her, until something of clear importance occurred. Knowing what she did now, Minerva could deduce that Matthew might have helped Galatea in her quest for avenging her parents, which would greatly explain how they became close.
Perhaps they were even linked romantically? Minerva wondered, distantly trailing the woman up another flight of stairs. She felt a little bashful contemplating her mentor's past love life, but Galatea's behaviour was highly unusual.
Minerva had held back questioning Galatea about him in the past year was that she was unwilling to make her mentor upset. Something told her that this was a topic she should tread carefully on. She remembered Galatea had saying that she failed to capture the murderers because she let her emotions get the best of her, and wondered whether those emotions had been tied to Matthew somehow. With Galatea's refusal to talk about him, and her parents death, Minerva had a strong inclination that it was very possible; which would make it furthermore impossible to get her to talk about it.
However, she was curious, and frankly growing nervous at what it could have possibly happened. The tabby rooted her paws to the floor and watched as the professor continued walking up to the fourth floor. She didn't enjoy the idea of investigating such a personal matter behind Galatea's back, but it was time for answers, and the only way Minerva could think of was through the Library.
With one last heart felt glance at the sombre witch, Minerva fled in the opposite direction and transformed before she reached her destination. Once inside the library, she found the latest edition of The Famous, Infamous, and Honourable Aurors of the British Ministry of Magic and flipped to the 'M's. The profiles were listed from date of birth, rather than name, which was helpful because there were many Merrythoughts listed. She had known that the family had been Aurors for generations, but she never imagined that the family was actually one of the first Auror's the Ministry ever had. Minerva had to fight to keep herself from just sitting down and reading about the entire lineage as she flipped to the latest Merrythoughts.
Mavrick Merrythought
Born; 25 November 1762 - Oxford, England, UK
Active period; 1785-1862, 1868-1893
Died; 7 September 1893
Pure-blood
Despite being described as a nonconformist in political and social matters, Mavrick Merrythought did follow the steps of many of the wizards in his family and became an Auror. He was a Ravenclaw through and through; cold, calculating, yet not without compassion and empathy. Merrythought's sharp intellect and dueling prowess made him a prime candidate for the Ministry's elite warriors. Merrythought first gained accreditation as an Auror after killing a Norwegian Ridgeback, and was known as one of the most lethal duelists of his time. He worked solo for many years until he was being partnered with his future wife, Elayne Morrison, in 1849. Their partnership developed and grew, and they married in 1858. He and his wife were confirmed dead after a mission investigating sightings of Dark witches and Inferi in the Scottish Highlands went bad.
Minerva flinched at the thought of Inferi being the cause of their deaths. She had heard gruesome, nightmare-ish tales of Inferi which did nothing to curb her dark thoughts. She absolutely could not blame Galatea for being unable to speak about her parents' deaths. After clearing her thoughts, Minerva continued reading from the passage.
Merrythought was the founder of the Highland Orphanage for Magical Children, and co-founder of the Merrythought Trust with his wife, Elayne Merrythought. His file states that his patronus had been a wolf at one time, but changed sometimes later. Mr and Mrs Merrythought had a daughter (see: Galatea Merrythought) and adopted a son, both of whom also became Aurors.
Elayne Merrythought (neé Morrison/MacGilleMhoire)
Born; 30 March, 1816 - Ness, Isle of Lewis, Scotland
Active period; 1837-1862,1868-1893
Died; 7 September 1893
Pure-blood
Hailing from one of Scotland's most famous Highland Wizarding Clans, Elayne Merrythought was the first Scottish witch to complete the Auror programme. Despite her top marks and impressive skill, Merrythought faced fierce opposition from those within the Ministry due primarily to her sex. It was only after former Ministers Artemisia Lufkin and Ottoline Gambol publicly declared their support for her that the board of Aurors eventually allowed her to complete her training.
E. Merrythought had an incredible affinity for disguising her appearance and stealth, which undoubtedly aided her through the trials to become a full-fledged Auror. Merrythought was also the first married witch to continue to serve when she married her long time Auror partner, Mavrick Merrythought in 1858. The couple perished whilst on a mission investigating Dark witches and Inferi in the Scottish highlands.
She and her husband were progressive activists and helped improve life for orphaned magical children in their native country of Scotland. Elayne Merrythought was the founder of the many Morrison Clan scholarships and apprentice programmes and was also the co-founder of the Merrythought Trust for the Highland Orphanage for Magical Children.
The age difference between Elayne and Mavrick was mildly surprised. Both of them sounded like fiercely independent people, so for them to have settled, married and ultimately become parents, they must have formed a close bond. So close, in fact, that Mavrick's patronus had changed, and Minerva had a sneaking suspicion that it had become a nightingale.
As Minerva scanned down to Galatea's profile, it occurred to her that Gregor was not among the listed, nor was his name mentioned, despite being an Auror himself. She couldn't decide whether this was because he was not a Merrythought by blood, or whether it was simply because he had yet to do something the authors deemed of note.
Galatea Merrythought
Born; 9 September 1863 - Ness, Isle of Lewis, Scotland, UK
Active period; December 1883 - September 1899
Retired from service; January 1900
Pure-blood
Registered Animagus
Known as one of the most powerful Aurors of her time, Galatea Merrythought has repeatedly proven her prowess in dueling Dark wizards during an age where the Ministry was laying war against the Dark Arts. It was due to her exceptional performance that she completed her training six months early. Merrythought won high accreditation when she entered the infamous Albanian Dark forest on a classified mission. After three days, she was presumed dead, but when she emerged alive on the seventh day she was cemented in history as one of the Ministry's best Aurors.
When her parents (Mavrick and Elayne Merrythought) were killed, G. Merrythought launched into a six year hunt for their killers. She shocked the Wizarding World when she retired at the turn of the century and took up the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she now resides. G. Merrythought's wand is known to be made of cherry with a dragon heartstring core. It is thought to be one of the most lethal wands ever created.
Minerva frowned with disappointment. There wasn't a single reference to Matthew Larcille or the Nightingales. Realistically, she knew that the likelihood of any information on the Nightingales would be slim, especially as Galatea's involvement was still very much a secret, but it was nonetheless frustrating. She pulled the Notable Specters of the American Legion of Magic off the shelf and flipped through it, hoping the elusive wizard was among the listed. Thankfully, she was not disappointed.
Matthew Larcille
b. January 22nd, 1859 - Albany, New York
d. December 7th, 1941
Pure-blood
Born to an aristocratic Wizarding family, Mr. Larcille became a Specter in 1871. Larcille is most notably known for forging a three-way alliance between the British Ministry's Aurors, the American Legion's Specters, and the vigilante group called the 'Nightingales' in 1895. The alliance was forged to facilitate an information exchange in order to help all three branches increase the effectiveness of a century long crusade to purge Dark organizations, namely the Untergang. The alliance proved highly effective, but was broken in 1901 by the elusive Nightingale captain. Post 1901, Larcille led a life devoted to training future Specters, and spent time purging Dark magic cults throughout the U.S. He, along with ten other Specters, died in the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941.
She remembered briefly reading about the Ministry's crusade, but most of the events listed had been described so vaguely in their textbooks that she had not managed to garner more information about them. Professor Binns had been no help at all either, seeing as he never liked talking about the history that happened after his death. It disturbed her that such an important piece of history hadn't been included in any book she had read so far. Such an alliance was historical to say the least; and there must have been a serious reason for it to have been broken. Minerva wondered if the dissolution of the alliance correlated with Galatea's retirement, especially since it was only a year after she left her position and she was just beginning her career as a professor.
With this in mind, Minerva struck out to find a wizenclopedia. She knew that the information she'd find would be condensed, but it was a good place to start. She hauled out the large M-N and T-U-V books and opened them to the pages she wanted.
Nightingales
Formed in 1893, the Nightingales are a group of vigilante wizards and witches all of whom stand against the terrorist group, 'the Untergang'. They have allied with the British Ministry of Magic and the American Legion of Magic in the past, but after refusing a dissolution order in 1901, they have maintained their independence. It is believed that their base resides somewhere in Britain, but any specifics are unknown.
To this day, the leader of this group remains anonymous. It is known that she is a witch, but her appearance is a mystery, for she is known to Transfigure her features. The Untergang has, on multiple occasions, claimed that the ex-Auror, now Professor, Galatea Merrythought is the Nightingale's captain; however each of these accusations were proven false by the Ministry.
Minerva frowned in disgust. The lack of detail was entirely disappointing. But if the group was being protected by the Ministry it would make more sense, she thought. Except Minerva knew better, the Ministry couldn't be protecting the Nightingales, not after everything she had witnessed, and especially after learning that they had defied the Ministry's order to dissolve. Such an act made them all but short of being enemies...
Then a thought struck Minerva's heart.
Maybe that's precisely why there isn't more information... The Ministry wouldn't want the Nightingales to become notorious, so they would keep this all quiet. Yes, that would definitely explain Galatea's hatred for the Ministry and more specifically Evangeline a great deal...
Holding onto that thought, Minerva flipped through the T-U-V book and found her other objective.
Untergang
A Dark magic terrorist organization with origins in Eastern Europe and Russia. It is unknown exactly when the group was formed, but they have been a notable faction since the Romanov dynasty took Russia's throne in 1613. They have been a prominent force of terror throughout history and, despite the efforts of many, they have never been completely eradicated. The leaders of the Untergang remain a mystery, however it is thought that there is more than one. They have been described by the Ministry as "barbaric wizards with no conscious thought except to kill."
Etymology note: "Untergang" translates as "downfall" in German.
"That's all?" she whispered quietly, scanning the rest of the page, and then the next, in some vain hope that there would be more. Most sections in a wizenclopedia were at least half a page long, but this was hardly a paragraph.
Where's all their history? Why were they labelled 'terrorists' in the first place? Where's more information about their leaders? What about their battles against the Ministry and the Nightingales?
Minerva almost slammed the books shut in disgust. She hauled them both back to the shelf and grabbed another wizenclopedia by a different publisher, but after a few minutes, she found that it was just as vague. Frowning, Minerva immediately set out to scour the Library for more information with feverous determination. Searching the 'U' shelf in the Contemporary History section, she expected for find a book with the title 'The Untergang; A History of Shadows and Terror' or something of the like, yet there wasn't a single book to be found. Cursing under her breath, she trekked across the Library and found 'Dark Magic Organizations', which did at least mention the terrorist group, it was even more enigmatic than the wizenclopedias.
A haunting suspicion began to grow in the back of Minerva's mind when she began to find the same frustrating situation as she looked for information on the Nightingales and the crusades against Dark magic in the 1800s. It was as if they had all been deemed not worth mentioning.
Flipping through another book, she began to grow angry with the same conundrum blocking her search, until a small piece of parchment fluttered out from the pages. Minerva snatched it from the air and noticed the scribbled writing.
Access code: UNT-865625
She was just getting around to wondering what the characters meant, when she noticed a face staring at her through gap in the shelf. It startled her, but she held her nerve and remained alert until she realised it was only the Librarian.
"You won't find anything else, Miss McGonagall," Mr Shanks spoke quietly. "You're not the first to scour this library, searching for that particular information."
"But this is the Hogwarts Library," she whispered, "it's supposed to be one of the top archives of Wizardry and Muggle knowledge alike! It is absolutely absurd."
"No, no, not absurd," his eyes darted back and forth as if worried about being overheard, "'tis quite predictable actually. The Ministry likes keeping their secrets under their control."
"Are you saying that the Ministry is behind this?"
"I'm not implying anything of the sort," Mr Shanks protested, "I am merely advising you, as I did your mother, to search in their archive instead."
Curious as she was that her mother had searched for the same information, there was one gaping problem that prevented her from moving forward. "Forgive me, Sir, but one must have an-"
The librarian nodded towards the parchment and it clicked. The writing on the parchment was the access code into the Ministry's archive.
"Sir, why are you doing this for me?"
"Because every student who tries to investigate this topic in particular, can't let it go. Your mother was one of them, and so was your grandmother, come to think of it."
Minerva's interest instantly doubled. "Then do you know what they found?"
Mr Shanks leaned closer to the shelf and his voice dropped to barely a whisper. "None of them speak a word of it. They get a fearful glint in their eyes, so I never pushed. Whatever they find changes them. Tread carefully with this, Miss McGonagall," he turned to leave, but remained for a moment longer, "Oh and I have been asked to pass on a message from an old friend of mine. She asked me to tell you that the Weather Witches predict snow to fall on the twelfth, and that you would know what that means."
At the mention of snow, Minerva went very still and forced herself to ignore the highly irrational fear coursing through her body. "How can I come in contact with this friend of yours?"
"You don't, she contacts you."
With that, he disappeared from sight, leaving Minerva to groan in despair and bite her tongue. If that's the case, then she will never come to me!
She sighed, rubbing her temples, trying to digest all the information she'd just learned. The alliance must have been extraordinarily useful to Galatea in her quest to hunt down her parent's killers, but beyond that, there was nothing useful she could glean from it. It was a start though, and now that she had a branch to climb on to, she just needed to find the next one that would lead to the top.
She would have to find a way to get into the Ministry's vaulted archives at some point, but that was probably not going to happen until the summer, or maybe even next year when the Seventh years take their annual tour of the Ministry. She let out a heavy sigh, realising that once again she would have to be patient.
I really should be used to finding dead ends after every corner I turn to by now…
December 12th, 1942:
Rolanda rolled over in her bed, snuggling deeper under the covers as she woke. Even with the fireplaces lit, it wasn't quite enough to stem the bitter cold that had rolled in over night.
Can you see outside? Minerva's voice echoed in her mind.
The hawk eyed witch let out a soft groan. She did not want to move and Minerva's disapproval radiated from their connection.
Just lift the covers off your face, love, and look outside please.
Rolanda groaned, but she did what Minerva asked her to. What am I looking for? she narrowed her eyes. I can't see a damn thing, the windows are frosted over.
She felt Minerva's emotions dulling as she sighed. Nothing. Forget about it.
Good try, Min, Rolanda thought crossly as she pulled the covers back over her head and relishing the warmth, but that's not going to fly this time. You've been tense since you got back from the hospital. What's going on?
Nothing to worry about, she answered. It's just a superstition and I am letting it affect me.
Hearing the rustle of sheets and Minerva's bed creek, Rolanda knew she was rising for the day. She felt Minerva subtly close their connection, just as she had done for the past several days, and it was making Rolanda increasingly uneasy. She threw off her covers and sat up, glaring at Minerva.
"Min, if you don't tell me what this is all about, then I shall be forced to form my own conclusions!"
The dark haired witch pursed her lips as she summoned the, currently dagger-sized, sword of Gryffindor from her nightstand. "Pipe down, you'll wake Gusta," she hissed. "It is nothing more than divination nonsense, just let it be." Rolanda shivered a little as she rose from the bed. She crossed her arms and glared Minerva down. "If it makes you feel better, then you can help me keep an open eye out."
"For?"
"Anything out of place, anyone acting strange, I don't really know. As I said, it is probably nothing to worry about." Minerva made her bed with a wave of her hand and changed their topic. "Have you heard anything from your mum as of late?"
"No, I haven't. I'm not even sure if I'm still going home for the holidays, but I've packed anyway." Rolanda watched as Minerva closed the clasp of the Time-turner's gold chain around her neck, then hide the device under her dressing gown. "It's hard to believe it's only the end of the first term. It feels like our second, or third even."
"I concur. A part of me wishes that this year could be over and done with. It's too bad the time-turner doesn't go-" Minerva paused with a frown and left her hand resting over the magical device. "Rola, I wouldn't normally say this, but for once I think I will be glad to get rid of this thing over the holidays."
"Why are you wearing it today, anyway? You have no reason too."
"Because I am sworn to keep it safe in my possession until I give it to Professor Dumbledore."
"Yes, I know, but why hasn't he done so yet? Doesn't he collect it after you finish your exams?" Rolanda questioned quietly.
Minerva shrugged. "He has a lot on his mind. Professor Dumbledore's been very busy since..." concern flashed in her eyes, "Actually, he's hardly been at Hogwarts at all this week except to monitor our tests. I don't mind keeping the time-turner safe for a few extra days if it helps lessen his work load."
Rolanda nodded, silently taking note of Minerva's selfless nature with the Deputy Headmaster. "Will you and Mikail still resuming the search for your memories over break while Poppy is still confined to the hospital wing?"
"Of course, why wouldn't we? It all went smoothly last time, there's no reason why the next will be any different. The seven day adaquel will of course need some planning, but it will all work out fine, and I doubt we'll reach it for a while. Mikail wants to work on that one last."
She had to admit, Minerva had a point, but after the recent Slytherin activities and with Mikail's connections still in question, Rolanda was still nervous. It didn't matter what Poppy insisted, she still couldn't bring herself to completely trust the Russian.
"All the same, Min, I would like to be there, just in case. So if I do leave with Mum over the holidays, please hold off on them until I get back."
Minerva seemed to consider this for a moment before she nodded. "Very well, I would rather avoid Poppy's disapproval if she ever found out that we did this alone."
After their showers, Minerva's strange behaviour seemed to be a thing of the past, but when they sat down to breakfast, Rolanda noticed that her eyes were constantly glancing at the windows and up at the ceiling. She was one of the few people not busy discussing their plans for the holidays. Even the staff members seemed to be enjoying themselves in chatter.
Someone told a joke across the table, but Rolanda was too focused on Minerva to hear it properly. Rolanda turned around to see what it was all about as Augusta's chuckle echoed in her ears, but that quickly changed. Without warning, the blonde witch gasped, dropping her tea cup on the table. Thankfully, there wasn't much liquid in the cup, just enough to soak Kevin's sleeve.
"Merlin's beard, Gusta! What the devil's wrong?" her boyfriend questioned. "There wasn't a bug in it, was there?"
"No, no," Augusta's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she waved her wand to siphon the excess tea from his robes. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have jumped. I thought I saw…" she trailed off as she pocketed her wand, her expression turning grim.
"Saw what?" Rolanda queried, her perusal of Minerva forgotten for a moment.
"Forget it. It's nothing," Augusta insisted, then muttered under her breath, "I never should have taken stupid Divination class."
Her response enticed Mikail's attention, "Vell, if it is so stupid, then vhy so afraid of telling?"
The colour from Augusta's flushed cheeks drained as she looked from Mikail to Rolanda, and then to Minerva. "The tea leaves… I- I thought they formed the shape of a skull."
Rolanda was about to open her mouth and round Augusta with another question, when she heard Minerva swear in Gaelic. She whipped her head around to see her sister wearing a mixed expression of mild shock and fear as she gazed up at the ceiling.
"What's wrong?"
Minerva uttered one word so softly spoken that Rolanda could hardly hear it.
"Snow."
