June 1948
It had started like such an ordinary Prefect shift.
Minerva had been with Lyall Lupin on the ground floor corridor, having just escorted a couple of Hufflepuff fourth years back to their Common Room after discovering them in the kitchen after curfew. The Prefects hadn't had the heart to report them to Professor Beery when they tearfully explained they couldn't sleep with exam stress on their minds. Minerva recognised one of the girls as Pomona Grubbly, a friend of her brother's, and made a mental note to check on her at a more respectable hour of day. After passing Pomona and Katherine Selby back to the fifth year prefect who answered the Hufflepuff door, they gave the corridor one last sweep before heading back to the Entrance Hall.
"Reckon we can think about heading back soon," Lyall said as Alphard Black and Sylvia Macmillan offered them a thumbs up from several floors above. "You've got to love the quiet shifts during the exam period."
A loud yawn from Millicent answered him, Minerva glancing up to see her and Irma making their way down from the first floor. "Makes the extra workload worth it," she agreed tiredly. Since the fifth and seventh years were completely buried in O.W.L and N.E.W.T exams, the sixth years had been given a few extra prefecting nights over the last week and they were all in need of an early night.
"All quiet down your end?" Lyall asked Alphard and Sylvia once they were within earshot.
Alphard nodded. "Not a peep. Once William and Robert are back then I think we can call it a night."
Minerva sat down on the bottom step of the Grand Staircase as they waited. She'd promised Malcolm and his friends that she would go over some Transfiguration work with them when she returned to the Tower, so knew she wouldn't have the luxury of crashing into bed the second she was finished in the castle. She was starting to wonder what the likelihood was of her persuading them to revise in the morning instead when the sound of something sharp scraping down the castle doors made them all startle.
Silence fell for several seconds. "What was that?" Millicent asked in an urgent whisper.
Any response was interrupted by the scraping noise sounding again, accompanied by a low whine that sent chills down Minerva's spine. "Is that one of the Hippogriffs?" she asked.
Lyall shook his head. "Not likely with that noise. I wouldn't put it past Flightfeather to get out at night but not with that sort of noise."
With the tension in the air, Minerva wasn't the only one to jump again when William Tonks and Robert Fawley rounded the corner from the Dungeons corridor. "There's something massive outside," Robert wheezed, bracing his hands on his knees once they reached the rest of the prefects. "It's had a go at one of the window latches!"
"Lyall and I were down there earlier and there were no signs of disturbance inside or outside," Minerva said, glancing at Lyall as she spoke.
Whatever was outside started to drag its claws down the door again, and there were several seconds where clearly no one wanted to be the first with a suggestion. "Someone needs to let Ogg and Hagrid know," Irma eventually pointed out, shrugging when everyone turned to look at her with varying degrees of shock and disbelief. "Well, if it's one of the Hogwarts creatures escaped then the gamekeepers are the obvious solutions."
Minerva didn't like where her thoughts were taking her but she knew it was the only logical option. "I'll do it," she sighed reluctantly. "My Animagus form, I'll be safer than the rest of you. If someone can open a window for me to get out?"
William nodded, waiting for her to transform before he followed her across the Entrance Hall. In her feline form she hopped easily onto the windowsill, watching through the glass for any sign of the creature as William undid the lock.
Fresh air breezed through her whiskers as she leaned outwards to look around the castle wall.
Straight into the soulless eyes of a werewolf.
A hissing shriek escaped her as she hurtled back through the window. The poor decision to transform back while not quite on solid ground lead to her ankle giving out from underneath her upon landing. She gasped painfully as she hit the cold stone floor and what felt like electricity shot up her leg.
Minerva didn't give herself a moment's recovery before forcing herself to stand again, stumbling horribly as she saw the full horror of the werewolf dragging its enormous form through the now-shattered window. What had been her idea at protecting them had essentially given the danger a way in.
"Stupefy!" she screamed as soon as her fingers closed around the wand in her pocket. Her stunner hit true despite the clumsy spellcasting; it sent the werewolf smashing into the castle wall, causing dust to cascade down from between the stones. Any relief she might have felt was wiped out when the werewolf howled, an awful combination of desperation and bloodlust.
Hands on her shoulders reminded Minerva of the other prefects' presence. Millicent and Irma were helping her stumble backwards while Lyall ran to where William was struggling to stand with blood dripping into his eyes. She hadn't noticed him getting struck, too focused on the werewolf and the throbbing pain deep in her ankle. "I need a distraction!" Lyall bellowed, eyes never leaving the werewolf as he dragged William to his feet.
The werewolf was standing too by then, and Minerva almost forgot to breathe as she took in its full shape. Despite learning about them in Professor Kettleburn's lessons, nothing could have prepared her for the emaciated animal which stood in the Entrance Hall with black eyes and slavering jaws. On instinct she pulled up a shield charm when it locked its eyes on her again, but it disappeared into nothing as the werewolf stalked right through.
A shout came from behind as Robert and Alphard charged in, circling around the werewolf in a wide berth while shooting hot sparks at it in a coordinated attack. Minerva's mind had still been racing for a way they could get help until the sparks dragged up a memory and gave her an idea. "Put me down," she urged Millicent and Irma, steadying herself once their support was gone and they joined in with Alphard and Robert instead.
She could almost feel the phantom Tentacula vines constricting her ribs as she spoke the incantation which had saved her life once before. "Vermillious!" she cried, sending a red flare firstly upwards to signal anybody on the higher floors. A second one followed seconds later, out the open window where perhaps the gamekeepers would see it.
There was a wild grin of triumph on Lyall's face when he looked from the flares she'd fired to Minerva herself. "Go!" he shouted to William who was barely on both feet, then neatly dodged an attack from Millicent to dive for the shattered window and climb outside. The original plan was back on; find the gamekeepers, Hagrid would be able to help them even if no one else could.
The lights flashing everywhere seemed to be keeping the werewolf disorientated enough that there was a good distance between it and the sixth years. Minerva shoved her pain to the back of her mind as she added some quick fire blasts into the mix, her confidence rising when the werewolf howled upon impact. But their light shield was broken when William stumbled again, grabbing the werewolf's attention with his frightened gasp, and that was all that was needed for everything to go wrong.
Minerva's shout mingled with William's scream and the werewolf's inhumane shrieks of delight as it tore into him. Alphard sent it flying back again with another stunner but the damage had already been done. William's face was blank as he tried feebly to pull himself away, prompting Sylvia and Robert to grab his limbs and try to haul him to safety. Time seemed to slow down as the werewolf jumped back to its feet, driven on by the blood that smeared its face and claws. Minerva fired another stunner but missed in her panic. Millicent was screaming at Sylvia and Robert to hurry up.
Irma's voice split the chaos. "Brachiabindo," she spoke the binding spell incantation in a voice that betrayed no panic. Her head was held high as she placed herself between the werewolf and William. Just as Minerva's stunner had done it didn't have the full effect of binding the werewolf, but it seemed to struggle for a second with arms bound to its sides by invisible chains.
"Brachiabindo," she repeated in an icy voice when its arms jerked upwards, barely flinching when it snarled in her face.
A gurgling cough from William brought Minerva back from the trance of Irma's spellcasting. She ran forwards with Millicent and Alphard to help drag him under the staircase. It was then that Minerva got her first proper look at his wounds and immediately wished she hadn't; the sheer amount of blood was gruesome without looking at the deep slashes across his chest and stomach that exposed gleaming white bone.
For a moment it seemed like they would get him to safety. Irma looked to be winning the mental war between the strength of her magic and the strength of the werewolf. Minerva and Millicent both pulled up a Disillusionment charm to hide them as Robert and Sylvia dragged William under the Grand Staircase.
Then the doors to the Entrance Hall were thrown open. Hagrid roared in fury at the sight of the werewolf in Hogwarts. Lyall stood in front of him, shirt torn from his scrabble through the broken window but triumph in his eyes.
Irma's attention dropped for a split second as she looked towards the interruption. She moved her wand again to reinforce the binding spell. The werewolf was faster; in one single movement it lifted one clawed hand and sliced at Irma's chest and outstretched hand.
Minerva had never heard her friend scream like that before.
Millicent bellowed a war cry, their Disillusionment charm forgotten as she charged towards where Irma crouched over with her arm pressed to her chest. Her wand splintered with a white spark as the werewolf stepped on it with a clawed foot. Minerva was a few seconds behind Millicent with her twisted ankle, but they were both outpaced by reinforcements sprinting onto the scene. She and Millicent grabbed Irma as their unknown saviours charged the werewolf at the same time as Hagrid and Lyall, hauling her towards their safe haven.
The sound of a voice she'd grown up with made Minerva pause in horror. "Malcolm no!" she shouted upon realising the new arrivals were her brother and his dorm-mates.
There was no time to wonder why in Merlin's name they were out of the Tower. The combination of the fourth year boys and a half-giant tackling the werewolf seemed to be the answer to their prayers, and Minerva nearly cried in relief when she saw Professor Dumbledore rushing down the Grand Staircase.
She pushed fear for her brother to the back of her mind as she resumed her focus on Irma, soothing her panicked cries as she was ushered under the stairs. But then the werewolf howled, several voices screamed, and she whirled back around.
One second Winston Spencer-Moon had been shooting spells at their nemesis; then he was being thrown to the floor with a werewolf's teeth in his throat.
That was when Minerva's world stopped. The battle scene before her passed in a blurry sequence of events that she could only stare motionlessly at.
Lyall dragged Malcolm, Emery, and Atticus away, shoving them behind a suit of armour before jumping back into the fray. Hagrid grappled at the werewolf's arms as he used his enormous size to physically pull it away from Winston. Professor Dumbledore used spells she had never seen before to blast the werewolf time after time, giving Hagrid the help needed to pull it through the doors and out of the castle.
Winston didn't get up. He didn't take another breath. It had been that quick.
"Help! Somebody help us!" The desperate wail from Robert was what finally pulled Minerva back into motion. But it was only to turn round and see William's eyes had glazed over. The blood spilling from his chest slowed to a trickle as the last breath left him.
Minerva knew that she should do something, that there were people who needed her in that moment. But she couldn't move, staring blankly at William's body and consciously aware of Winston lying mere feet away. The pain in her ankle was negligible but somehow her chest was in agony. Irma's screaming sobs should have roused something in her, but other than noticing Alphard applying pressure on her wounds she did nothing. She flinched at a sudden biting pain at her hip, but a glance downwards made her register dimly that nothing had touched her. Every bit of devastation surrounding her felt like a million miles away.
For a second she thought she saw Poppy and Ro standing across the room. She shook her head with a frown, certain she was hallucinating them just like she'd imagined teeth biting into her side. But their forms didn't disappear. It took several attempts before body cooperated with her and she called out in a cracked voice "Poppy, we need you."
Poppy's eyes met hers, the one piece of clarity in her hazed vision. Anything Minerva might have said disappeared as she approached, unable to find words for what they'd been through. As Poppy ran past her towards Irma it was Ro who grabbed her hands, sharp yellow eyes searching for any sign of recognition. "Hey," she said seriously. "Hey, are you with me?"
Minerva only shrugged. Ro's hands in hers hardly felt real, just like everything else happening around her.
Ro looked like she wanted to say more but couldn't find the right words either. She dropped Minerva's hands as she looked down to see William for the first time, letting out a vicious "shit" as she crouched down beside him. Minerva tried not to fade back into numbness as she lost the one lifeline keeping her attached to reality.
She forced herself to walk towards Poppy and Irma on stiff legs while Ro joined Millicent and Sylvia. "What in Merlin's name did this?" Poppy asked her, a mixture of shocked horror and confusion marring her face.
"A werewolf," she answered after several seconds of staring back at William's body. She wanted to cry, to scream out all the thoughts and images that spun around in her head. But she could only remain painfully silent.
Poppy's breath hitched at her response, managing to wrench her gaze away from William to focus back on Irma. "That explains why I can't heal this," she said, conjuring up a pile of gauze pads and pressing them down onto the single ragged cut that ran from throat to elbow. "Alphard, unless you're injured I need you to run to the Hospital Wing and fetch Madame Quinine. Quick as you can."
Alphard hummed a reply as he jumped to his feet. Minerva didn't miss how his hands were splotched with Irma's blood as he sprinted past her into the Entrance Hall, which by then was deafeningly quiet. She wasn't sure which was easier to listen to; the screams of battle or the silence afterwards.
"Minerva- Minerva, look at me."
She didn't realise she was swaying until Poppy's hands on her elbows were the only thing keeping her upright. "Let's come and sit down. Come hold Irma's hand for me," Poppy soothed her gently, waiting for Minerva to offer a tiny nod before helping her down to sit beside Irma.
Her hand felt like it was moving through treacle as she reached out for Irma, glad to have something else to focus on through her foggy mind. Irma was fighting to keep her breathing under control, her injured arm twitching uncontrollably while she continued to openly sob. "I'm here," Minerva murmured, placing her other hand on Irma's knee.
"Please make it stop bleeding," Irma begged brokenly. She gripped Minerva's hand in her own as she cried, no sign of the normally stoic person that hated anyone seeing her upset. Her uniform was so soaked in crimson that Minerva couldn't stop seeing a different girl, ginger hair and a freckled face, blood pouring from a neck wound that never had time to heal.
"Madame Quinine is coming, she'll be able to help," Poppy promised, pulling a bloodied sheet of gauze away from Irma's neck and replacing it quickly with a fresh one. "Irma I promise, you're going to be ok."
As if summoned by Poppy's words, Madame Quinine's red and white robes suddenly appeared in Minerva's peripheral vision. "Give me some space," she ordered, tilting Irma's chin up gently to assess the damage. Minerva shuffled backwards numbly as Poppy ran through her observations with the Matron, her head spinning too much to hear repeated what she'd already witnessed first-hand.
It seemed that Madame Quinine hadn't arrived alone, as she dimly heard Professor Beery speaking with Professor Dumbledore in the distance. Professor Slughorn rushed up to the mouth of the stairwell, rambling flustered remarks of shock as he looked down on William's body before Madame Quinine summoned him to help devise a plan of treatment for Irma. There wasn't enough room for the two staff members as well as three students in the deepest corner beneath the stairs, so Minerva mumbled what might have been a reassurance before getting to her feet and staggering out into the fresher air.
She ignored both Ro and Millicent calling her name in concern as she walked past them, resolutely refusing to look down at William again. But she didn't make it far before her twisted ankle gave way and she tripped forwards with a sharp yelp of pain. Rather than hitting the floor again she was caught by a strong pair of arms, looking up into the sorrowful eyes of Professor Merrythought.
"Steady, dear, it's alright." Professor Merrythought said as she helped Minerva to her feet, not taking away the hand under her shoulder when Minerva winced again. "Take it easy Minerva. Let's go and sit on the steps."
Minerva nodded, letting the Professor help her limp to sit on the bottom stair of the Grand Staircase. From there she could get a better view of what was happening in the Entrance Hall; someone had conjured a white sheet to cover Winston's body, for which she was grateful. She looked for Malcolm and the other fourth year boys but couldn't see them, assuming someone had taken them away from the scene to somewhere calmer. The castle doors had been shut and Hagrid was discussing with Professors Dumbledore and Beery in low voices. His coat was torn to reveal bloody scratches on his arms and back, but she assumed due to him being a half-giant they didn't bother him as much as the average person.
Footsteps thundering behind them made her flinch horribly, barely acknowledging Professor Merrythought's soothing hand on her arm as she turned to see Larry sprinting towards them. Cleatus Weasley and Ernest Lawrence paused uncertainly at the bottom of the stairs while Maggie Jordan hurdled the banister to join the grieving sixth years.
Larry spoke her name in barely restrained fear as he dropped to his knees in front of her. "Minerva, Minerva it's ok. I'm here. You're ok," he said, eyes only on her as he gripped her hands tightly.
It took all the effort she had to murmur his name back, focusing on the feel of his calloused fingers around her shaking hands.
"What happened? We didn't hear anything from the library, what did this?" he asked, the question aimed more at the Professor than herself.
Professor Merrythought let out an exhausted sigh. "A transformed werewolf broke into the castle," she explained, voice heavy. "It's not the first time it's happened and I doubt it will be the last. But it's never been this bad before."
The thought that had been at the back of Minerva's mind since Larry appeared suddenly hit her hard enough that she physically recoiled. "Larry," she said in a trembling voice, lifting one hand to point to the white sheet in the centre of the Entrance Hall. She couldn't put it into words; all she could do was mutter "Winston."
"What? What do you mean?" he demanded. After a moment where his eyes searched her face for more answers he turned to look where she was pointing, where Winston's lifeless hand was lying just outside the death sheet.
The numbness which had settled in her chest like ice shattered as Larry let out a howl of grief and sprinted across the hall towards his brother. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Beery tried to stop him as he ran past them, ignoring his thrashing and shouts, finally breaking free of their hold to rip the sheet away from Winston and cry out again.
Minerva didn't realise she'd pressed her hands over her ears to block out his cries until she felt Professor Merrythought's hand atop hers. After so long of not reacting she couldn't stop herself from sobbing violently, all the fear and exhaustion and sorrow flooding her at once. "Oh Minerva," Professor Merrythought sighed softly, placing a comforting hand between Minerva's shoulderblades.
"I'm s- sorry," Minerva choked out between frantic breathes, feeling like her chest was caving in on itself.
"No apologies my dear," Professor Merrythought hushed her. "Shall you and I go up to my office for a little while? I don't think staying in here is doing you any good right now."
Minerva ached to say yes, but she couldn't stop herself from looking where Maggie had wrapped her arms around Larry while he shook with uncontrollable sobs. "But- but Larry, and Irma, and Malcolm," she insisted tearfully.
Shaking her head, the Professor got to her feet and slowly guided Minerva to her feet. "You cannot pour from an empty cup. You need to take care of yourself right now so that you can be there for your friends later."
They moved out of the way to let Madame Quinine up the stairs; Irma was lying down on a floating stretcher, closely followed by Poppy and Professor Slughorn as they made their way to the Hospital Wing. Minerva and Professor Merrythought followed them up the stairs, making their way slowly down the sixth floor corridor until they reached the office.
"Sit down," the Professor said once they were inside, motioning to the sofa as she added "I'll get the kettle on."
Minerva sat on the edge of the sofa, trying to distract herself from the still racing thoughts by watching Professor Merrythought bustle around the kitchenette making tea. It didn't help; every single noise startled her again and again until she had her hands clamped back over her ears. Every shadow looked like a Venomous Tentacula, every bright light like the werewolf's eyes. The logical part of her brain insisted that the sounds around her were just that of boiling water, a teaspoon in a mug, high heeled shoes on a wooden floor. The panicking part could hear nothing but screams.
"Professor?" she whispered a plea, bowing forwards to hide her head in her lap.
Professor Merrythought was by her side in an instant. "Minerva it's ok," she said in a tone that made Minerva trust her immediately, her hand returned to its former place on Minerva's back for a gentle grounding pressure. "You're having a panic attack. It will go away but I need you to breathe."
It was a struggle just to get air in, and she shook her head frantically. "It's too much, everything is so much, I can't do it," she sobbed.
"Close your eyes and give me your hand," Professor Merrythought ordered, and Minerva felt her glasses being gently removed as she did so. The Professor placed her hand back between Minerva's shoulder blades and used her wrist stump to trace a square on Minerva's palm. "Breathe in, hold for two, breathe out, hold for two," she explained, synching her own breathing to demonstrate.
After several minutes of just focusing on her breathing, Minerva found she could bear to lift her head without feeling as though the ceiling was about to crash down. "Sorry," she apologised again, taking her other hand away from her ear to rub beneath her eyes.
Professor Merrythought pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to Minerva. "There is absolutely nothing to apologise for," she said seriously, no trace of her usual light-heartedness. "Your psychological wellbeing is just as important as your physical wellbeing. Especially in the aftermath of a serious trauma, I'm unsurprised this is how your mind reacted. There's no shame attached to it at all."
When Minerva gave a reluctant nod, Professor Merrythought handed back her glasses then delicately summoned two mugs of tea and a small glass bottle from the kitchenette to a side table. "Hold the mug in your hands, it'll help," the Professor said, nodding in encouragement when Minerva picked up the mug and cradled it within her palms.
"Thank you," Minerva murmured, taking a slow sip. She'd been expecting chamomile but was surprised to taste lavender and a hint of mint alongside it. "Is there Calming Draught in this?" she asked, taking another sip.
Professor Merrythought chuckled. "Still a potioneer even two minutes after a panic attack. Yes, I put just a little in to take the edge off your anxiety. You won't be overdosing if you want a little more before you sleep." she explained.
Minerva nodded. She wasn't sure whether it was the potion, the warm mug in her hands, or just her Professor's reassuring presence that was soothing the edges of her frayed mind but she was grateful for it all the same. "You knew exactly how to help me," she commented after a minute's quiet, glancing hesitantly at Professor Merrythought. "Has this… has something like this happened to you before?"
There was no answer immediately, making Minerva worry for a split second that she'd overstepped a line. "Many, many times," she sighed, a sad smile on her face as she regarded Minerva. "Do you remember I told you about how I met and then lost my husband? The reason I dropped out of Auror training following his death was because something in my mind seemed to just… break. It wasn't just nightmares, I would be going about my day when suddenly I felt like I was dying."
"That's what it felt like. Just now." Minerva interrupted. She couldn't imagine ever having to go through that again, let alone on a regular basis.
Professor Merrythought gave an empathetic hum. "I can recognise them in students because of my own experience. All Aurors are taught about combat fatigue; it's a Muggle term but war is war, regardless if it's magical or Muggle in nature. However we've known for a long while that trauma, not just from war, damages the mind in almost a similar way to the Cruciatus Curse." She paused for a moment before adding "There's only so much pain we can deal with at one time before we cannot help but shut down."
As the Professor spoke, Minerva thought back to how she'd responded in the wake of the Triwizard Tournament. She'd trusted Professor Merrythought over any other adult in her life with the flashbacks she'd endured at the start of the year, and somehow the revelation that she'd been through something similar made sense. The Professor had the perfect balance of pushing her when needed, but giving her space in her own thoughts too.
"How do I stop it happening more?" she asked all in a rush, some of her earlier fear returning at the thought of the attacks coming back and just never stopping.
"Breathe," Professor Merrythought said first, watching Minerva intently until she'd inhaled and exhaled properly. "Good, keep drinking your tea. The fact that it's been a year since your trauma and you haven't developed them regularly is a good sign. But I can teach you the methods I used after I lost my hand to stop them coming back again, and I would be happy to authorise a prescription of Calming Draughts for intermittent usage. I promise you there are precautions we can take."
Minerva let out a ragged breath at that, relief almost making her lightheaded. "Thank you Professor," she said, words punctuated by a poorly stifled yawn.
"You're always welcome Minerva. But as much as I'm here to discuss these things whenever you need it, I think that now is the time for you to get some rest."
Even though she knew the Professor was right, Minerva frowned nervously at the thought of nightmares plaguing her like they'd done following the Tournament. The fresh memories of the werewolf attack combined with the reawakened ones of the third task meant that sleep was a daunting prospect.
Professor Merrythought seemed to read her mind. "Just for tonight, I can give you some Dreamless Sleep Potion so you'll get some rest. But you'll need to stay here for the night so that I can keep an eye on you because I don't think you should go to the Hospital Wing tonight. It's entirely up to you."
The temptation of a dreamless night was enough for Minerva to nod her head. She still felt incredibly selfish for coming to the Professor's office in the first place, when there were so many others who needed her support to get through the rest of the night. But Professor Merrythought's words replayed in her mind to remind her she'd be far better equipped to take the weight of their troubles the next day if she could manage some proper sleep first.
After transfiguring the sofa they sat on into a camp bed, the Professor went into her bedroom so Minerva could summon some pyjamas to change into. She came back out a few minutes later with a small glass filled with a purple liquid, warning Minerva that she needed to drink all of it at once or it wouldn't have the desired effect. It took less than a minute for her to feel the effects of the potion, her mind returning to its former hazy state before the lights were switched off and her mind fell into emptiness.
The next morning she didn't go back to Gryffindor Tower straight away. Instead she and Professor Merrythought went straight to the Hospital Wing after Minerva summoned another change of clothes from her dormitory. The fear of confronting what she'd spent a whole night hiding from made her hands shake again as they walked towards the double doors, but that worry was banished quickly when Ro threw open the door just in front of them.
"Thank Merlin, Min," Ro gasped, rushing forwards to throw her arms around Minerva's shoulders.
"Hey," whispered Minerva, burying her face in the crook of Ro's neck. She vaguely registered Professor Merrythought continuing on into the Hospital Wing, glad to have been given some privacy with her friend.
Ro squeezed her tighter before taking a step back to look her up and down. "Are you ok? Poppy saw you go off with Professor Merrythought last night so we weren't too worried but still, you looked horrendous. Sorry, that's probably rude. I haven't had much sleep," she rambled, pushing her hair out of her face awkwardly.
"It's ok, I promise," Minerva said, unable to help herself from smiling despite the serious circumstances. "Physically I'm ok, just my ankle hurts but I can't complain considering everything. It all felt too much and I kept thinking of when Svetlana- when she- you know-"
She trailed off there but Ro nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I know. I really do," she emphasised. "We're all ok here too. I mean, ok enough. Irma's on the mend, Madame Quinine and Professor Slughorn had the whole thing under control the second they arrived."
Minerva let out a sigh of relief at that, the nagging fear that she'd lose her like she lost Svetlana finally fading from her mind. "And Larry?" she asked in a darker tone.
Ro's pensive expression said more than her words did. "He's somewhere in the castle but not here. Madame Quinine gave him a Dreamless Sleep potion so he'd actually sleep but he was gone by the time the rest of us woke up."
"I'll try and find him after I've seen Irma," Minerva said, already pinpointing a few places that they frequented around the castle.
"You're a gem," Ro sighed, pushing open the door and leading her across the Hospital Wing.
The sunlight reflecting through the Hospital Wing windows was far too peaceful considering the events of the last 24 hours. Minerva instantly noticed the beds curtained off but turned away quickly, knowing that William and Winston would be resting there. Instead she focused on Irma who had looked up without a smile when Minerva and Ro approached. Poppy, Millicent, and Septima were there too, sparking guilt in Minerva's chest that she'd been the only person to not be there when her friend needed her.
"I'm so glad you're ok," Minerva said to Irma as she sat down on her bed.
Irma gave her a sad smile, not flinching as Minerva took in her wound. She was wearing a hospital gown but the neckline and left arm had been removed to allow medical access; there were dressings stuck down the centre of her neck that curved along her collarbone and down her left arm. "It's a bit excessive don't you think," she tried to joke, but the humour fell flat.
"Speak for yourself, you didn't have to spend over an hour being Professor Slughorn's marathon runner from the Dungeons and back while he brewed a silver potion for you!" Ro retorted.
That managed to break the tension in the room at last. Minerva leaned over to give Irma a gentle hug, feeling the stiffness evaporate from her shoulders at the physical contact. Septima had dark circles under her eyes from where she sat on the edge of the next bed with Millicent dozing lightly on her shoulder. Poppy looked as though she'd hardly slept but was somehow still smiling, relief and adrenaline clearly the only things keeping her awake.
Ro was obviously acutely aware of that fact, as she took Poppy's hands from where she was hovering next to Irma and dragged her to sit on Ro's lap. "You feel up for giving Min the proper updates then?" she prompted Poppy gently, giving Minerva a reassuring glance.
"Oh! Yes, there's no contamination in the wound. We had Professor Slughorn and Professor Beery here last night after the Entrance Hall was secured, they both agreed with Madame Quinine that there's no risk of Irma contracting lycanthropy." Poppy explained, reaching out to place a hand on Irma's shoulder as she started to tremble a little.
Irma returned the gesture with a weak smile. "It's ok. It's more the fear of how close I came to, well." She didn't need to finish the sentence for Minerva to know what she meant.
"Better your wand than you," Septima sighed. Her laughter didn't disguise the strained note in her voice, a clear sign of how distressed she was. She was the only one of the six who hadn't been in the Entrance Hall the previous night; as much as being there would stay in her mind forever, Minerva didn't know whether that was worse than waking up blissfully ignorant only to find out her sister had nearly died.
"What do you mean?" Minerva asked after a moment, realising belatedly the depths of what Septima had said.
Irma pulled a sad face as she picked up her wand. Or, more accurately, what was left of it. Two sections of ebony wood were connected solely by a strand of unicorn hair, while the handle had snapped off completely and sparked a little when Irma adjusted it in her hand. "I think a trip to Ollivanders will be in order this summer," she chuckled wryly.
Ro laughed as she shrugged. "Considering what trouble we've found ourselves in since coming to Hogwarts, I'm honestly surprised we were all still on our first wands," she commented.
"Don't say that, we've still got another year to go." Poppy buried her head in her hands as she groaned, but Minerva could still see a tiny smile hidden as Ro pressed a kiss to her hairline.
After spending a while with her friends, Minerva left again with the promise that she'd come back after finding both Larry and her brother. To cover more ground quicker she transformed into her Animagus form after leaving the Hospital Wing, finding it easier to limp on three legs than one, grateful to slip by passing students unnoticed. She didn't think he would have gone back to Gryffindor Tower so she first checked the bench beneath the castle wall where they liked to watch the world go by, and then made her way towards the alcove where the secret staircase was.
Her feline hearing told her she was in the right place before she'd even ducked under the tapestry that concealed it. Everything felt wrong as she looked at Larry, an open bottle of Firewhisky by his feet as he sat with his back against the alcove wall.
Minerva meowed quietly before she transformed, mindful not to startle him. He didn't say anything once she was human again, just reached out a hand.
She took it immediately, moving the bottle out of his reach as she sat down next to him and pulled him in close. "It's ok," she whispered, pressing her forehead against his. "You can cry, shout, whatever you need to do. I'm here."
Time came to a standstill while Minerva held him and he cried.
What should have been a happy end to the year had been ruined. But unlike the aftermath of the Battle against Grindlewald, it felt wrong to Minerva every time she saw a group of students entirely unaffected by what had happened. Not a single person at Hogwarts had escaped the battle without knowing one person who had fallen. But for those outside William and Winston's circles of friends, life could continue on mostly as normal. Minerva almost envied them for that.
The announcement came the day before the Hogwarts Express arrived that Leonard Spencer-Moon had stepped down as Minister for Magic. Minerva was saddened yet unsurprised to read the news in the Daily Prophet, skimming over the front page article which cited his younger son's recent death as the reason why. She grimaced upon seeing another article by the same Emmet Moynihan who had slandered Professor Merrythought after the Yule Ball, claiming that Hogwarts had failed at their protective duty by letting two children die within the school walls.
"It's idiotic," Ro grumbled around a mouthful of toast. "I'd like to see them try and deal with a werewolf breaking into the Daily Prophet office without losing a couple of- shit, sorry Larry."
Larry had winced at her blunt tone but shook his head when she apologised. It was the first day Minerva had persuaded him to join them for a meal in the Great Hall in the week since Winston's death, and he'd refused any real food in favour of sipping absent-mindedly at a strong mug of coffee.
"I reckon some of the parents are probably agreeing with him though," Septima pointed out.
Nodding firmly, Millicent added "If this were a Muggle school we'd be under government review right now, I can tell you that much. Someone at my sister's school got food poisoning from the lunches and that was enough for inspectors to turn up in droves. They'd have a field day at Hogwarts."
Minerva knew she was right from the few years she'd spent at the tiny Church-run school in Caithness. "To be fair on the Professors, I suppose we have things that Muggle schools don't really need to deal with. Even Quidditch would probably be considered too much of a health hazard," she pointed out.
"Clearly you've never played Lacrosse," Irma joked darkly. "I knew I wasn't destined for the Quidditch Pitch as soon as I took a net to the face the first time."
Poppy sighed dramatically. "If they can stop inventing dangerous sports for my friends to participate in then I might not be completely grey by the time I graduate," she grumbled good-humouredly. Minerva watched them fondly as Ro gave her a look of mock outrage, which softened into a smile when Poppy nudged Ro's shoulder playfully. After so long of them keeping their relationship a secret, it brought her endless joy to see them so comfortable together in public.
The rest of the day felt as odd as the last day of term always did. Packing up their dormitory was always a daunting task, particularly for Ro as she had such a habit of spreading her things out all over the place. As well as tidying up her own things Minerva tried to spend as much time as possible with Malcolm that day, since he and Emery were spending the summer with Atticus and the other two Weasley brothers rather than coming home to Caithness. As much as she worried about him having just lost one of his closest friends, she knew from how she'd felt the previous summer that he would fare much better when surrounded by his friends.
All too soon they were standing on the platform at Hogsmeade Station. Minerva turned to look back towards the castle as they lined up to board the train, painfully aware that in only one year it would be her turn to say goodbye for a final time. She'd already said her tearful goodbyes to Ernest, Cleatus and Maggie, the blow slightly softened by the knowledge they would all see each other again at the Quidditch World Cup the following month. Larry had been with them but Minerva had just kissed him rather than any long goodbye, content that they would resume their frequent letters that had got them through the previous summer and she'd see him again before too long.
"Minerva?"
She turned around to see Larry running up to her again, the other seventh years looking confused in the background. "I'll come and find you on the train," she said to Poppy before leaving the queue to meet him.
Larry glanced around nervously once she reached his side, taking her hand and leading her to the furthest place on the platform. "I'm sorry," he started before Minerva could ask why, the devastated expression on his face making her stomach drop. It was the most emotion she'd seen on him since the day after the werewolf attack, and her heart ached for him all over again.
"You've nothing to apologise for," she insisted gently, reaching out to cup his cheek with one hand.
He leaned into her touch for a split second before he shook his head, and Minerva let her hand drop in confusion. "No, I do. Because this isn't fair. I can't drag you into this. I'm not the same person you love and I won't make you go through this with me," he said in a broken voice.
Minerva could only stare at him, mouth slightly open as she tried to pretend he didn't mean what he was implying. "Larry, no. You stayed with me throughout all of the last year and have been with me every during every single hard day. Of course I would do all that for you and more," she promised him. "That's how relationships work. That's how we're going to work."
"No. This is different." Larry repeated, biting his lip as tears spilled down his cheek that Minerva ached to wipe away. "We were both at Hogwarts, it was easy when we were together the whole time. But I don't know what happens next in my life. I've failed half my N.E.W.T.s at least, my job offer at the Ministry is voided and I don't even think I'd want it if it wasn't. My father is unemployed and my career path is gone and my brother is dead. I have to work out what I do now and I won't drag you down into that."
She didn't notice she was crying too until several smudges appeared on her glasses. "I understand," she whispered.
Larry nodded, the shadow of a grateful smile amidst his tears. "Thank you for not making this even more impossible," he said with a broken laugh.
Minerva couldn't stop herself from taking his hands then, returning his tearful smile. She wanted to memorise every pattern of his hands in those last moments.
"I want you to go on and be happy," Larry continued, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. "Don't miss me next year. And I want you to know that these last eighteen months with you have been the happiest of my entire life."
"Mine too," Minerva said, meaning it truly. "Keep in touch, even if it's just as a friend?" she asked.
Larry nodded. The magic was broken when their hands dropped, the voices around them on the platform suddenly existing again. Minerva knew that the moment couldn't last, that she had to walk away from him.
She leaned back in and pressed the lightest of kisses to the corner of his lips, before she turned away and walked onto the Hogwarts Express without looking back.
The journey back to London was sombre. She explained quietly to her friends that she and Larry had ended their relationship, let Ro and Poppy sit close on either side of her to keep her grounded. Let herself be distracted by worrying about how Irma's parents would react to seeing her for the first time in nearly a year. Her bandages were almost covered entirely by a black turtleneck, undoubtedly too warm for the first days of July. But Minerva understood her choice of outfits. Just like any event that created an unavoidable wedge in life's timeline, it would take time for it to become a normal thing she could endure without having to think and plan around it.
As always, the platform was so packed with families that it was impossible to recognise any of their parents when the train pulled into Kings Cross. Minerva knew her mother would be waiting on the Muggle side of the station, so she could afford to be more focused on Irma and Septima than finding her own family. She'd never seen either of the twins' parents, slightly ashamed when she realised she was looking around for a woman who resembled the Black family daughters despite that being everything Irma tried not to become.
Her private stereotyping was rewarded when Septima started off towards a couple standing at the far edge of the platform. Minerva followed from a distance, aware of Poppy and Ro with Poppy's parents not far behind them and Millicent with her father and sister. They would say their proper goodbyes once away from the hectic platform, but with only a few weeks until they would reunite for the Quidditch World Cup there was no need for any drawn-out farewells. She'd already hugged Malcolm goodbye as he joined the Weasley family, Cleatus giving her a solemn nod which Minerva understood as a promise to look after her brother.
"Septima, darling," a thin voice caught her eye, Minerva turning back to see Septima embraced a little awkwardly by her mother. On the contrary her father pulled her into a fierce hug, grinning and clapping a hand on her back a couple of times. He was a tall man with balding brown hair, a replica of Septima's chestnut locks, and a thick curled moustache. Minerva couldn't help but wince a little knowing what those hands had been capable of and still seeing her friend so comfortable with him. She knew Septima's views on her father had become a little more guarded over the last year, but it was still jarring to watch.
For a moment she thought all her fears had been for nothing as Irma stepped forward to greet her parents. Minerva pretended to be craning her neck to look for someone in the crowd, but in reality she was listening intently to the scene before her.
"I hope you're not anticipating to spend your summer at our home?" Mr Vector asked. He adjusted his monocle as he regarded Irma with none of the warmth he'd greeted Septima with.
Irma merely blinked. Minerva was struck by how her stiff posture mirrored how she'd stared down a werewolf armed only with a binding spell. She'd wondered before how she'd done it, and now Minerva had made the connection she realised there were things it revealed about Irma's home life that she wished she'd never thought about.
"I am your daughter, first and foremost." Irma said, her voice just as emotionless. She raised her left hand to reveal the Black family ring that her mother had sent her for her 17th birthday, looking at her mother as she added "I thought your intentions were made clear about that."
Mrs Vector shook her head, but it was Mr Vector who stepped towards Irma while pushing Septima out of his way a little too roughly. "That was before you dragged my reputation through the mud a second time," he snarled at her. Minerva was confused for a split second until her blood chilled at his next words.
"I will not be allowing werewolf scum like you into my house, even if you still bear my family name and your mother's ring."
Irma shook her head, her emotionless façade slipping for the first time. "Our matron assured me that I was only wounded, not contaminated. I wasn't bitten. I'm not a werewolf."
This time it was Irma's mother who stepped forward. Unlike Mr Vector there was regret on her face, but it didn't cancel out the shame in her words. "Professor Dippet contacted us and told us what happened. We are capable of drawing our own conclusions. The risk is too great; both to us who live with you, and to your father's reputation should it get out that we continued to allow you in our family."
"What the hell?" Septima spoke up for the first time, disgust plain on her face. "She's just as much your daughter as I am. You can't just throw her out!"
Her father turned on her so quickly that Minerva barely had time to blink. "I can, and I will. I see that she's been dragging you down with her in this last year if this is your opinion now, and I will not allow that to continue," he snapped at Septima, who's anger had been replaced by blank shock. He stalked towards Irma and pulled down the collar of her turtleneck, Irma crying out quietly as her bandages were exposed. "If she wanted to be one of us she wouldn't have let this happen!"
Minerva went to step forward but she was stopped by a rush of magic as Mr Vector's monocle exploded into dust and glass shards. "Don't touch her." Ro said, her voice darker and more dangerous than Minerva had heard it since their argument on the lake years ago.
"Ro, don't, please," Irma begged quietly. She didn't move until her father let go of her collar, stumbling back then into Minerva and Poppy's waiting arms. Minerva wasn't sure when she and Ro had arrived on the scene but she'd scarcely been more grateful for their interference.
Mr Vector turned his head away for a second, and it was then Minerva realised that there was blood dripping down his face from glass fragments embedded around his eye socket. "Very well," he said, straightening up to look his elder daughter in the eye. "Irma Elladora, you are no longer a Vector. You are no longer welcome in our home, and you may no longer use our family name. Call yourself a Black for all I care, but if I hear the name Irma Vector used in the public eye then you can expect trouble from my representatives. I have nothing more to say to you." He glanced towards his other daughter before saying roughly "Septima, say your goodbyes."
Septima rushed forwards then, flinging her arms around Irma's neck. "I'll come with you," Minerva heard her whisper. "I don't care where, but where you go, I go. I care about you more than him. I'm not making the same mistake as last year." Her voice shook with tears at the last sentence.
"No," Irma insisted, placing her hands on Septima's shoulders as their foreheads touched. "You need to go with them. We'll be safer if we're separate. Just for now. I will see you in three weeks. I will be ok."
Septima stared at her for a second, then her face crumpled as she nodded. She hugged her sister once more, then turned to follow after her parents who had already set off towards the platform exit. Just before she vanished through the wall she looked back and shouted something in Latin, and then she was gone.
Irma was silent for a moment as she watched the place where her sister had disappeared. She made no attempt to stand on her own, still leaning heavily on Minerva and Poppy. "I can't remember the last time she told me she loves me," Irma said, her voice strained, before she bowed her head and sobbed.
Minerva made no attempt to hush her as she pulled Irma into her chest, staring in shock at Ro, Poppy, and the newly arrived Millicent from over Irma's shoulder. "You're coming home with me," she said, refusing to back down when Irma shook her head desperately. "I mean it. They're wrong about you. And I won't leave you here, not in a million years."
It was nearly a minute before Irma responded at last. "Ok," she whispered, face hidden in the crook of Minerva's neck.
The platform was considerably quieter when they finally made their way into the Muggle station. Minerva offered her mother and brother a limited explanation as to why Irma was now coming home with them, looking her mother desperately in the eye until she nodded hastily. On one hand she knew she owed them the truth of that as well as her now ended relationship, but as her mother enquired about Larry as they walked through the station she couldn't bear to break the news. She'd been so relieved when Minerva fell in love with another wizard; she didn't think she could cope with her mother's disappointment added to Minerva's own raw grief just yet.
Despite being a legal adult witch, Minerva was still forced to hand over her wand to her mother as soon as they arrived in Caithness. Along with it went Svetlana's wand and the broken pieces of Irma's, who looked a little lost without her already severed connection to the magical world. But Minerva was right in her hopes that the distance would do her some good, as it wasn't long before Irma was discussing religious literature with her father over the dinner table. Robert seemed glad to have a new face in the house too compared to the quiet of the previous summer. It made Minerva smile whenever she saw her friend and her brother chatting happily over homework assignments, wishing that she could be back in second year rather than about to enter her seventh.
As their month in Caithness wore on though, Irma's smiles were seen less and her startles grew stronger. She'd been so relaxed during the first couple of weeks that it was a worrying shock to see all her walls back as she moved around the house quieter than a mouse. Minerva couldn't think of anything that had caused it until she happened to glance at the kitchen calendar one morning while Robbie was on the phone to Anja Hooch for her birthday. Two days from then was July 21st, and the first full moon since the Hogwarts attack.
Even though Madame Quinine had reassured them that Irma had no risk of lycanthropy, Minerva could only imagine how her parent's words would be spinning in Irma's mind. She didn't bring it up until the day of the full moon, not missing the dark circles under Irma's eyes at breakfast that morning, or how she retreated to Minerva's bedroom following every meal rather than staying at the kitchen table while the rest of them tidied. Minerva brushed off her mother's concern but couldn't help her own worry sitting in her chest for the rest of the day.
As the sun was setting, Minerva entered her room to see Irma pacing back and forth while checking her watch incessantly. "Irma, please talk to me," Minerva sighed, pausing to concentrate hard and cast a Silencing charm on her bedroom walls. Her mother would be furious if she found out, but now that she was of age her lack of wand didn't stop her from practising magic.
Irma didn't respond immediately, meeting Minerva's eyes with a pensive expression before flopping down onto her chair. "I have to go," she muttered.
"What?" Minerva said, regretting her tone instantly when Irma flinched. "Sorry, I'm not angry just surprised. Why do you need to go? And where?" she asked, mind racing for a conclusion she couldn't find.
Hands shaking from where she twisted them in her lap, Irma took a trembling breath before responding. "Tonight is the full moon. I have to leave before the moon rises. I know what Madame Quinine said but it's not a risk I can take, what if my father was right?"
"Irma, I-"
"No, you have to listen, please," Irma begged, and Minerva didn't protest as she was interrupted. "I trust Madame Quinine more than my father, but even if there's an infinitesimally small chance that she's wrong then I can't risk it. You need to lock me out of the house before the moon rises and not let me back in until morning."
Minerva's heart felt broken as she listened to her friend's request. There were no words she could find to convince Irma that she was wrong, and she resigned herself to nodding reluctantly.
It was as she opened the back door to let Irma out into the garden that a thought occurred to her. "I'm coming with you," she said.
Irma whirled round to look at her, looking as frightened as she'd done during the attack itself. "No. You can't. If I hurt you I'll never forgive myself."
"Werewolves only hunt humans. I'll be perfectly safe in my Animagus form." Minerva stated.
There was still unimaginable fear on Irma's face, tears running down her face that shone under the rising moonlight. But she didn't try to refuse again, glancing up at the sky before running across the garden.
Minerva locked the door behind them, letting out a heavy sigh. She transformed into her Animagus form before she got any closer to Irma, tail raised in greeting as she padded across the grass towards the low wall where Irma had sat. Irma's head was in her hands and her elbows resting on her knees; Minerva assessed for a moment then jumped delicately onto her lap to make herself comfortable.
The waiting was painful. Minerva kept her eyes on the rising moon as Irma kept her face buried in her hands, hardly noticing whenever a stray tear landed on her fur. In her head she kept repeating the mantra of 'don't transform, don't transform', praying fervently that the Matron hadn't been wrong. There was no way that the Matron could be wrong and Irma's father could be right. Minerva refused to believe it was possible.
Despite her belief, the tiniest spark of hope flared in her chest when the full moon rose from behind a cloud and there was no sudden movement from Irma. Minerva didn't move for another several minutes, her hope growing with each passing second that moonlight shone down above them. Eventually she could no longer deny it, and she turned to nudge Irma's cheek with her nose.
Irma's tear stained face appeared from behind her hands. She gasped upon seeing the full moon, staring at her hands as if she could hardly believe it. "I'm not a-" she breathed out, fresh tears marring a shocked smile.
Minerva nodded her feline head. Then she hopped off Irma's lap and transformed into her human self. Irma's giddy laugh rang out in the midnight air as Minerva grabbed her hands and pulled her up into a crying, giggling embrace.
Author's Note:
Without checking, this is up there with the longest chapters of the fic. That was absolutely not my intention, but the recount of the werewolf attack took up a lot more wordcount than I'd planned for. Despite that and all the sad things in this chapter I'm really happy with it, ending sixth year on a sombre but somehow still happy note.
Firstly, the werewolf attack, and bless Winston Spencer-Moon. I kept you all in horrible suspense at the end of the last chapter with which of the boys has died, and it's had awful consequences for Larry and Minerva and everyone else involved. Larry crying under the alcove staircase just broke my heart. I had zero intention for Minerva's PTSD to impact her so heavily in this chapter but as I was writing the attack I just couldn't connect with her character voice in my head, and after bashing my head in writer's block for a while I realised why. Of course Minerva would start having flashbacks when faced with another attack. From my own experiences with flashbacks I hope I wrote it accurately. And I don't think I've ever appreciate Professor Merrythought's presence in this fic as much as I've done in this chapter, she's a real combination of several wonderful people in my own life who help me with my mental health. Her comments on 'combat fatique' are mostly based on views about PTSD post-WWII which was very interesting to research.
And the other focus of this chapter: Irma. This chapter is really the accumulation of year's worth of breakdown between her and her parents. It was not enjoyable to write him in the slightest. Ro's 'accidental' demolishing of his monocle was inspired by a scene from The Umbrella Academy which I have just finished watching, so if you think of a slightly younger Reginald Hargreeves then you've got the right idea about Franklin Vector. So Irma has been reduced to simply Irma Elladora, and the next few chapters will definitely focus a lot on Irma adjusting her position in the world as an estranged adult witch.
One more comment for the Larry/Minerva shippers currently cursing my name: this isn't the last we've seen of our beloved Larry. Until next time :)