"Look after her for me."
"I will. I promise."
x
Minerva's office was quiet. She sat behind her desk, eyes flickering to the corner of the room. To the untrained eye, it looked like any other corner. The carpet was worn down ever so slightly, the result of countless headmasters and headmistresses struggling to decide the perfect location for various pieces of furniture. Now, there was a large, ebony vase with ornate gold designs over its shiny surface. Minerva wasn't sure what to do with it, but it was a gift from Bill Weasley, and she had to put it somewhere.
But it was not the vase that was just the slightest bit unusual. If one watched closely enough, one could see the twitch of movement in the shadows of the corner. Every now and then, glowing yellow-green eyes would blink up at her. Still, Mrs. Norris so rarely made an appearance after Argus' death.
In the early days, Minerva had tried to coax the old cat out of hiding, urging her to roam the castle. Mrs. Norris had refused, and maybe Minerva couldn't blame her. She, too, felt the heaviness of grief in her bones after losing Albus. The loss of a dear and beloved friend can cut so deeply.
Today, the old cat let out a low, mournful yowl, her tail swishing this way and that. It was the most noise she had made in the month following Argus' passing, and it was enough to make Minerva set her quill down and abandon her writing entirely.
Even in her human form, Minerva recognized that sound. Sometimes, she would change into her Animagus form simply because it was easier to process emotions, to drown out the worst of it and focus as best as she could. She had made that same sound the night after the final battle. Lost and drowning, she had transformed and cried in a feline tongue, expressing her pain in a way that made sense to her.
"I know," she said with a heavy sigh. "You loved him."
The nervous tail movement stopped. A moment later, her tail disappeared entirely, replaced by Mrs. Norris' head. Minerva smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Yes, she was happy to Mrs. Norris at last, but it was still enough to break her heart.
"He loved you too."
x
"She's all I have, Minerva. I… I'm all she has."
"I know, Argus. I know."
x
Minerva opened the middle drawer on the left side of her desk, extracting a cat treat. There were so many cats that roamed the castle. She was certain that not all of them belonged to students, that they happened upon the castle somehow. It seemed only right that someone keep a stash of cat treats.
"I don't want you to spoil your dinner." She kept her tone firm but kind, as if she was addressing a student. "You can only have a few of these. Is that clear?"
Mrs. Norris inched closer, meowing softly, a clear yes. Minerva never understood how some people assumed cats couldn't understand humans. She knew that they could; they simply chose to ignore them more often than not. Cats were awfully clever creatures, far more clever than they were given credit for.
Mrs. Norris took another step. Hope lightened Minerva's heart. Could this be the day she finally made progress? She was afraid to think it, as though it would somehow jinx it; perhaps she was more superstitious than she would ever admit. Watching Mrs. Norris' tiny paws sink into the carpet again and again, however, filled her with such an immense joy that she was afraid she might burst.
After Argus' death, Mrs. Norris had hidden away. She would eat, but only alone. Only whenever Minerva would leave the room.
"That's it," Minerva coaxed. Her smile brightened and felt more genuine. "There you go."
She dropped a treat onto the floor. Mrs. Norris sniffed it several times before snatching it up, crunching it between her teeth. Once she was done, she looked up at Minerva, meowing at her. Trying not to laugh, reminded so much of her nieces and nephews when they were small children who wanted more sweets from their Aunt Minnie, she tossed another one down. Mrs. Norris didn't hesitate this time. With a quick sniff, she devoured it.
Another treat, more crunching. Mrs. Norris slowly seemed to relax.
x
"It's okay, girl. I know you'll come around. I'm not Argus, but maybe you'll let me be your friend too."
x
Mrs. Norris landed on Minerva's desk, a soft purr sounding within her throat. She walked across the surface, taking care not to displace the files or spill the ink. Minerva wondered if her stealth and grace stemmed from her years patrolling the corridors for Argus. Whatever the reason, her movements were so cautious and calculated that she seemed almost human. Sometimes, Minerva wondered if it could be possible, but she would often dismiss the idea just as quickly as it would come.
"I told you," Minerva says fondly, reaching out and stroking Mrs. Norris' soft fur, "you aren't spoiling your appetite with treats."
It really was like talking to an unruly teenager. The cat even hissed her displeasure, glaring at her. Whenever Minerva reached to pet her again, Mrs. Norris batted her hand away. She was like a pouting child. Luckily, Minerva had enough experience with both cats and children to not be offended.
"Very well." She shrugged and picked up her quill. There was still a small pile of notes to go over and letters in need of a response. "Sulk if you'd like. You aren't changing my mind."
Mrs. Norris paced across the desk again, then a third time, and a fourth. She fell into a rhythm, pausing at either end of the desk, as if Minerva would laugh and tell her she was just kidding and of course she could have all the snacks. When Minerva didn't, however, Mrs. Norris did what all children do after a tantrum- though this was far from an actual tantrum- and gave up. She found a comfortable stack of papers, lying down and curling up, her eyes blinking slowly before closing. A moment later, she was purring again, seemingly content.
Smiling, Minerva reached out with her free hand, stroking the cat's thick fur as she worked.
They still had a long way to go. Grief was difficult, even for a cat, and Minerva doubted Mrs. Norris would ever truly heal from losing Argus. Still, Minerva would do the same thing she would do for her students: she would be there for the grieving cat in any way that she could.
x
"I've got you now. It's okay. Everything is okay."