A/N: I just watched Daniel Radcliffe read the first chapter of The Philosopher's Stone, which was a lot of fun. Hopefully, you'll have fun with this chapter, too. Thank you for all your comments on the last chapter!

22. Rumours

"Do you really think they could be shagging?"

"I dunno. But what else would they be doing? It's not as if she needs Remedial Transfiguration."

"Yeah, but she's always going on about doing the right thing."

"Perhaps she likes doing something else now."

Alison and Drew giggled as they entered the dormitory. When they saw that Minerva was in there, lying on her bed, they went red in the face and shut up so fast as if they had been hit with a Silencing Charm.

After her practice session with Professor Dumbledore at sunup this morning, Minerva had decided to return to the dormitory to rest before class and skip breakfast. Alison and Drew, who had just come back from the Great Hall, had clearly not expected her, and their shock caused Minerva to suspect that they had just been gossiping about her. She didn't usually care, but they were acting really weird.

Drew busied herself with packing her bag, but she dropped everything she touched, and Alison tried so hard not to look Minerva's way that she walked straight into her bedpost. When they had finally managed to leave the dormitory, Augusta entered and she looked after the other two girls with a frown. They had started giggling again before the door to the dormitory had even closed behind them.

"What's wrong with those two?" Minerva wondered. Augusta was usually the one to ask about these things.

"Search me," she said with a shrug, but her shoulders were way too stiff and she, too, was avoiding Minerva's gaze.

"What's wrong with you?" Minerva amended her question.

Augusta plopped down on her bed lazily, but not without hitting her head on the headboard. "Nothing."

Minerva laughed. "You do know you're a terrible liar, don't you? It's one of your more endearing qualities, actually."

Heaving a sigh, Augusta sat back up and looked at her. "Okay, I wasn't going to say anything, though I am curious, mind you. But I reckon we're friends, so you'd tell me if there was something to tell."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Minerva was beginning to get impatient.

"Because you're not reading Witch Weekly."

"Of course not," Minerva snorted. "I have better things to do with my time."

"Yeah, but you might find this week's edition rather... uh... interesting." Augusta rummaged in her bag and handed her a copy of the glossy magazine.

It was bright pink, which Minerva already found offensive before she had even opened it. Since she doubted that Drew and Alison would get so worked up about the cooking recipes or the advice column on household pests, Minerva skipped to the celebrity news section, where she discovered an article about Professor Dumbledore. She skimmed it, but lowered the magazine after only a minute.

"This is just more of the same old rubbish they've been writing about him for ages."

Augusta shook her head. "Next page."

Annoyed, Minerva turned the page and read more closely.

"Albus Dumbledore is clearly a man of many secrets, but some of them might have nothing to do with the fate of the wizarding community. Sources at Hogwarts say that he has recently been seen locked in his office at all hours of the day – and night – with one of his female over-age students. While not remarkably beautiful, this particular girl is top of her class and generally admired for her outstanding academic achievements. Could a promising and exceptionally talented girl like that have turned the head – and captured the heart – of a perpetual bachelor like Albus Dumbledore?"

"WHAT?" Now it was Minerva's turn to hit her head because she had jumped to her feet so suddenly that she had forgotten that she was now taller than her four-poster bed. "Bloody hell!"

"Oh, this is bad. You don't usually swear," Augusta observed from a safe distance.

"Of course, this is bad! This is..." Minerva was too angry to finish that sentence or even to think clearly.

"So," said Augusta, drawing the word out slowly, "they got it wrong then?"

Minerva rounded on her like a dragon preparing to spit fire. "You didn't just seriously ask me that!"

Augusta scrambled back into a corner of her bed. "Well, he likes you. He's always liked you."

"Not like that!" Minerva hissed.

"Okay, okay, I believe you!" Augusta threw her hands into the air in surrender. "I never really thought you would... It's not like you at all. Although, since it's Dumbledore and he's so powerful and really not that bad-looking for his age... I mean, would you have said no if he had tried to... you know."

With a cry of outrage, Minerva started beating Augusta over the head with the rolled-up magazine.

"Never mind! Never mind!" Augusta yelled.

Minerva flung the magazine into a corner and dropped onto Augusta's bed to take a breath and think. "All right, it's not a complete disaster. No one reads this crap anyway."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say 'no one'," Augusta objected, hiding behind her pillow.

"No one of consequence," Minerva revised her statement.

Augusta seemed to decide that it was safer not to argue and Minerva held on to that thought like a lifeline. So what if the likes of Alison and Drew were gossiping about her? The nature of their conversations might make her uncomfortable, but they couldn't harm her in any way, or, more importantly, Professor Dumbledore. Still, Minerva was glad that they didn't have Transfiguration today, even though she hated feeling like that. She wanted to find the witch who had written that article and strangle her. Who were her 'sources at Hogwarts' anyway?

That answer did not present itself to Minerva, but she did get a lot of funny looks from other students. Many more than she had hoped. But it was the teachers' behaviour that she hadn't expected. Professor Sowerby glared at her disapprovingly, even though Minerva's spell work was perfect, and Professor Beery kept clearing his throat as if meaning to say something to her and then thinking better of it.

Finally, Professor Narramore passed her in the corridor and muttered, "I told you your obsession would eventually lead to such depravity."

That's when Minerva lost it.

"IT'S NOT TRUE, YOU SILLY, OLD HAG!"

Everyone within earshot (and Minerva had screamed rather loudly) stopped and stared. Including Professor Narramore. Before she could come to her senses and realise that she was still a teacher, albeit a laughable one, and could punish any student for speaking to her like that, Minerva ran for it.

But it wasn't long until a timid-looking second-year approached her. "Er... the headmaster wants to see you."

Minerva groaned. Of course, Professor Narramore had lodged a complaint directly with the headmaster. She wondered if yelling at a teacher was a serious enough offense to revoke her Head Girl status. With any other teacher, Minerva would never have done it, but she simply couldn't keep her temper in check when it came to Divination. Certainly not when she was already on edge.

Dreading the moment when she would have to face Professor Dippet, Minerva slowly made her way to the headmaster's office on the third floor. "Beedle the Bard," she said when she stood in front of the gargoyle that was guarding it. As Head Girl Minerva was kept informed about the current password (so far, it had always been more or less famous authors), but she had never used it before.

Now, the gargoyle stepped aside and revealed a circular moving stone staircase that brought her up to a door that swung open as soon as she knocked. Entering the headmaster's office for the first time would have been fascinating, but Minerva had no time to take any of it in. All she saw right now was Headmaster Dippet sitting behind his desk and Professor Dumbledore standing beside it.

It took all of her self-control not to think of what Augusta had said about Dumbledore not being bad-looking. Minerva decided to look at Professor Dippet for the time-being.

"Thank you for coming, Miss McGonagall," the headmaster said and he sounded very solemn, though Minerva could only compare it to his speeches at the start- and end-of-term feasts. "I assume you know why you're here?"

"Yes, Professor, and I realise that my behaviour was very inappropriate and I will apologise to Professor Narramore..." Minerva faltered because Professor Dippet's expression had changed from shocked to confused while Professor Dumbledore was shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

"Professor Narramore?" echoed the headmaster. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Trying to backpedal rather inelegantly, Minerva said, "Then... I guess I do not know why I'm here."

"Oh," said Dippet, now even more surprised. "Then you haven't read...?"

Suddenly Minerva understood, and she had only two choices – she could either be completely mortified or she could be annoyed. Needless to say, she went with the latter. "Don't tell me it's about that ridiculous article! Professor, surely a man of your intelligence must know that nothing that magazine publishes is even remotely close to the truth!"

Thankfully, Professor Dippet seemed willing to overlook the thinly veiled insult in her words, and Professor Dumbledore's lips curled up into an amused little smile.

"Actually, they do have excellent recipes, but no matter," Dippet cleared his throat. "I realise that Witch Weekly Magazine has somewhat of a bad reputation, but nevertheless this is a serious allegation."

"I believe the word you're looking for is gossip, Armando," Dumbledore spoke for the first time. "As I am not aware of anyone having made an actual allegation."

"Allegation, rumour, gossip… be that as it may," Dippet said. "I'm sure you understand, Albus, that as headmaster I have to follow up on whatever it is. The safety of the students is, after all, of the utmost importance."

"Which is why I have answered your question – as offensive as it might have been." Dumbledore sounded no longer amused.

Dippet looked rather unhappy as well. "I know you did, but I'll need to hear it from her, Albus." The headmaster focused on Minerva again. "So, Miss McGonagall, I regret that I must ask you this, but is it true that you've been spending time with Professor Dumbledore outside of class?"

That was such a broad question that Minerva would have needed to answer it with yes even before she'd started training to become an Animagus. But now was probably not the time to point that out. "It is, Professor."

"And what is the nature of those… meetings?" Dippet asked, but he looked as though he really didn't want to know, which would have been almost comical.

In fact, when Minerva glanced at Professor Dumbledore now, he gave her a small smile.

But when the headmaster noticed that little exchange between them, he completely misinterpreted it. "I can ask Professor Dumbledore to leave the room if that would make it easier for you to speak freely," he offered Minerva in what he probably thought was a kind gesture.

"What? I'm not scared of Professor Dumbledore," Minerva burst out, and on second thought she added, "Respectfully, sir."

Dumbledore suppressed a chuckle.

Dippet looked at him askance. "Do you really think this is funny, Albus?"

"Only insofar as this is completely ridiculous and, quite honestly, a waste of all of our precious time."

"Is that so? You two have somewhere else to be then?" the headmaster asked sharply.

"Actually, yes, sir, because Professor Dumbledore has been teaching me to become an Animagus, and it's important that I say the incantation at every sunrise and every sundown," Minerva said quickly now to end this.

Professor Dippet looked at her, not surprised because Dumbledore must have already told him this, but still deliberating. "And this was your idea?"

"Yes, sir," Minerva confirmed.

"And that's all there is to it?"

Minerva fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, sir."

"An Animagus… well, of course it fits…" Dippet muttered more to himself than anyone else while he looked from one to the other. "All right then, you can go, Miss McGonagall. I just had to ask. You understand."

She didn't, actually, but she wasn't going to keep arguing with the headmaster and simply turned towards the door.

"Oh, and Miss McGonagall?" Dippet stopped her.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Good luck to you."

Minerva thanked him and left.

She hadn't gotten far before Professor Dumbledore caught up with her. Neither one of them said anything, but Minerva automatically followed him to his study, where he opened the door for her.

"After you," he said.

That's when Minerva hesitated. "Are you sure, Professor?"

"I don't think we can make matters much worse, do you?" he replied with an almost mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Minerva snorted and went inside to sit in her usual chair.

"However, I do want to apologise to you," Dumbledore said while he sat down as well. "I must admit that I did not foresee this outcome when we agreed not to make your ambitions common knowledge."

"It'll die down again," Minerva said in an attempt to be nonchalant about this.

"Undoubtedly, but I still think it would be wise to stop this in its tracks by making the truth no longer appear like a secret."

Not sure what Professor Dumbledore was suggesting, Minerva said quickly, "I'm not setting the record straight by talking to anyone from Witch Weekly!"

"Of course not, nor would I expect you to. But perhaps you would be willing to talk to a different magazine." Dumbledore pointed to the newest edition of Transfiguration Today.

Surprised, Minerva needed a moment to consider this. "Do you think they would be interested?"

"You are the first witch to try to become an Animagus in this century and also the only one with Transfiguration skills to match. As such, they would most definitely be interested in you," Dumbledore pointed out. "I would have suggested it earlier, but I did not wish to add pressure to a process that is already challenging. Under these new circumstances, though…"

He trailed off, but Minerva understood what he was saying. And if Dumbledore thought that it was better not to let these rumours go unanswered, she would trust his judgment as she usually did. "I'll talk to them," she agreed. "But only if it's about Transfiguration and nothing else. I will not talk about you." She cringed. "That… sounded harsher than I meant it."

"Oh no, I'm with you," Dumbledore said lightly. "I have no idea why people won't tire of talking about me. Personally, I find myself perfectly boring."

Minerva laughed but more in disbelief than anything else. "You're not boring, sir. But I'm sorry I gave them something new to talk about."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Dumbledore assured her. "Other than perhaps what exactly happened between you and Professor Narramore today."

"Uh… is it sundown yet?" Minerva asked, glancing at her watch and quickly trying to change the subject.

The interview went very well, even though Minerva looked uncomfortable throughout the whole thing.

Albus sympathized. He never talked to the press when he could avoid it either. But in this case, he had felt that it was rather unavoidable. Not because of his reputation, but because of hers. Albus was quite used to the rumours surrounding his person. They were like moths drawn to the flame that was his unfortunate fame. It was tiresome, of course, and in this case downright insulting, but still mostly harmless. For him, anyway. Minerva was way too young to be dragged down by something like this. Also, he didn't want to imagine any of this getting back to her father. Luckily, he highly doubted that Reverend McGonagall was an avid subscriber of Witch Weekly.

Anyway, this new interview would shine a light where it belonged – on her talent and remarkable accomplishments. The editor-in-chief of Transfiguration Today, having been on friendly terms with Albus for years, had been very accommodating. He had let them choose who they wanted to do the interview with (unsurprisingly, Minerva had chosen a female reporter), and she had kept the personal questions to a minimum. The magazine had also promised to rush the interview to the printers, but they would still have to wait for the next edition to be published.

That meant another couple of days of the rumour madness that had swept Hogwarts Castle, though it had begun to die down already. Especially since most of the teachers had now learned the truth, which was a blessing, as Horace's smile had been truly unnerving.

"My, my, Albus, I never realised you were such a daredevil! But really, with a student…"

"Horace, if you wish for us to remain friends, I beg you not to finish that sentence."

Conversations like that were, perhaps, the most irksome. Even the people closest to him seemed willing to believe virtually anything about him.

Of course, Horace had quickly changed his tune. "But I never thought it was true for even a minute, really. Although, if she wasn't a student… I can see the appeal…"

All in all, Albus preferred to keep to himself for a while or to the company of those students who had already moved on from this, like the group of Gryffindors that greeted him now as they passed him in the corridor. Upon closer inspection, Albus noticed that it was the Gryffindor Quidditch team returning from practice. The only one missing was their captain.

Albus glanced at his watch. It was nearly sundown. He suspected that Minerva had stayed behind at the Quidditch stadium to do her incantations. He had given her permission to proceed on her own while they waited for the article to be published and for these rumours to die down. But he didn't feel particularly good about that decision. After all, her safety should precede any other concerns.

So Albus made his way down to the Quidditch pitch. As he neared the changing rooms, he heard her voice saying the incantation, telling him that it was safe to enter. But he stayed in the doorway as to not disturb her concentration.

Wand tip over her heart, Minerva was sitting on the floor, muttering, "Amato Animo Animato Animagus. Amato Animo Animato Animagus. Amato Animo Animato Animagus…"

As everything seemed to proceed normally and he knew that she wouldn't react kindly to him coming to check on her unnecessarily, Albus was about to turn away when he heard her gasp.

Minerva was no longer sitting. She had keeled over, her body convulsing and her pupils dilated unnaturally, as she was slowly suffocating from the inside.

Albus hurried over to her and placed the tip of his own wand over her heart. "Breathe, Minerva! Breathe!" he commanded her, the sharpness of his voice the best tool to break through the haze that clouded her eyes.

Snapping back out of it, Minerva drew a shaky breath while her pupils slowly returned to normal, the convulsions stopped and she went still again. Disoriented, she blinked up at him and then the life returned to her.

"There was a second heartbeat!" she said in a rush as if she expected him to disagree. "I felt it!"

"I thought you might," Albus nodded.

She barely seemed to have heard him. "I had a second heart beating in my chest!" she said, still dazed. "That's impossible!"

"I think you know that it isn't."

"It was so strong. It felt like it was trying to take over!"

"That's because it is. And you will have to let it," Albus reminded her.

Minerva stared at him wide-eyed. "But it felt like I was going to die," she whispered.

Albus sighed. Watching her go through this process wasn't easy, which was exactly why he had originally said no. "In a way, you are. Don't forget that you must shed this body entirely to change into a different one."

For the first time, she looked at him as though she truly understood the magnitude of what she was trying to do and had just realised the scope of the magic she had begun to evoke. This was where so many who attempted to become an Animagus lost control. But Albus had lost control only once in his life and he was not about to let that happen again.

"You can show no fear, Minerva," he told her unmistakably. "You have to trust in yourself. That is vital."

After a moment or two, she nodded. "Just not yet."

"No, not yet."

"What if there won't ever be a bloody storm?" she wondered while they were both sitting on the floor of the changing rooms. For a second, Albus perfectly understood where all these rumours were coming from, but he found that he didn't much care.

"Don't worry. Your time will come, Minerva."