Halloween
Friday, 2 October 1942
As the leaves of the trees in the Forbidden Forest started to turn, as the weather grew windier, and as September turned into October, life at Hogwarts settled into its normal routine. The students were now settled into their classes and workloads as if they'd never taken time off, and were diving into their extracurricular activities to preserve their sanity. Bad news came every now and again with the Owl Post, and like it had in years past it simply – unsettlingly – became part of the normal school routine. Each house's Quidditch team was holding regular practices, but with the first game of the season being Gryffindor versus Slytherin, Minerva and Rolanda were working their team harder than anyone. But before Gryffindor and Slytherin would face each other on the Quidditch pitch in November, Hogwarts would first celebrate Halloween. There would be the traditional Halloween Feast in the Great Hall, of course, but Sir Nicholas would tell anyone in Gryffindor who would listen that his four hundred fiftieth deathday also fell on Halloween. The kinder Gryffindors who typically indulged his stories and complaints about the Headless Hunt had to awkwardly excuse themselves from these conversations; he was hinting at invitations to anyone who listened to him long enough. In addition, Slughorn was also hosting a Halloween party the day before the feast. Many of the older students were eager to go, and so students with invitations became increasingly popular in the weeks leading up to the party.
The invitations to Slughorn's party went out the first week of October, hand-delivered by younger students in each house who had not yet proved themselves to Slughorn. As Minerva sat in her usual spot in an armchair by the big window in the Gryffindor Common Room, curled up with the latest edition of Transfiguration Today, she was startled by an eager second year boy. He held a scroll of parchment in his hand, tied in a black ribbon with a purple wax seal bearing the initials "H.S." Minerva had not heard the boy approach, and consequently jumped when he addressed her.
The boy stared at her, made speechless and wide-eyed by her jarring reaction. Coming to her senses, Minerva exhaled deeply and said, "Sorry, Arkie. Did you need something?"
He blushed and held out the scroll, "Professor Slughorn asked me to give you this."
Minerva blinked, and took it. Arkie dithered near her for a moment, unsure if he should dismiss himself, until Minerva remembered herself and replied, "Thank you, Arkie."
Arkie nodded stiffly and practically jogged away from her.
Minerva stared at the seal, perplexed. She couldn't imagine any reason other than the Halloween party for Slughorn to contact her in such a way, but she was not part of the Slug Club. She'd never been invited to one of his socials before, at all. As she broke the seal, she wondered what had changed. Her eyes skimmed over the contents of the missive, and sure enough, it was a formal invitation for her and a guest to attend his Halloween party. She frowned as she noticed that the attire was "festive." How festive? she thought to herself wearily.
Rolanda would be a good resource, Minerva realized. Rolanda had been going to Slughorn's socials for two years now, picked out for her prowess on the Quidditch pitch and in Potions class. His faith in her had not been misplaced, because last year – the first year he'd appointed her Captain – she'd led Slytherin to victory for the Quidditch Cup.
Later that same day, Minerva learned that Poppy had also received her first invitation to a Slughorn party. Upon discovering that Minerva had received an invitation, too, Pomona became a bit miffed that she was the only one of their group who was excluded. Seeing Pomona's dissatisfaction, Poppy offered to bring her along as her guest. This cheered Pomona slightly.
Sunday, 4 October 1942
The first Sunday in October, Minerva woke up to find a collection of presents at the foot of her bed. She grinned and sat up, reaching for the closest one. It was a small cube-sized box on the top of the stack and looked to be the right size for the present she was most excited about receiving. She opened the letter that was folded neatly into a square atop the box.
Dear Minerva,
Your Gran and I cannot believe how quickly you've grown up before our eyes. What do you think you're doing, turning seventeen? You're not allowed to be an adult yet! Yet, you are, whether we're ready or not. We're so proud of the young woman you've become, and we're excited for what the future holds for our bright young witch. You never cease to amaze us with your sharp wit, big heart, and clear goals. Merlin, I wish I had been so sure of myself when I was your age!
We discussed with your parents the matter of the traditional coming-of-age gift, and we agreed that there was no watch more perfect for you than the one in this box. It was purchased at Diagon Alley in 1888 by my parents. Your namesake, my sister Minerva, came home at the end of her first year and insisted that she needed a timepiece to keep track of her day, and so my parents took her to pick out this watch. You must understand that at the time, wristwatches were very new to consumers. They had been on the wizarding market for just shy of a decade and were just coming to Muggle markets for men. She was proud to have been able to choose her own watch. It's a beautiful watch, and we all agreed that it suits you as well. I took it to a jeweler and had them charm it so that it would adjust to the wrist of the next wearer. It should fit you, but if there are any problems, let us know and we'll get it fixed straightaway.
We love you so much, and we wish you the happiest of birthdays.
Much love,
Granda and Gran
Minerva read the letter twice, feeling emotional. Her namesake had died before she turned seventeen, so she hadn't thought that there would be a watch that had once belonged to her. She'd always felt a connection to her Great Aunt Minerva, because of the name, but she'd never owned anything that had belonged to her. Most of her possessions had burned up in the fire that killed her and most of her family. Minerva's fingers trembled slightly as she opened the box, her heart pounding. When she finally laid eyes on the watch, she smiled broadly. It was beautiful. It was gold, and the band was twisted in such a way that made it look both delicate and secure. Minerva slipped it onto her wrist, feeling proud to have something of the late Minerva McGonagall's.
She stared at it for a bit longer before turning to her other gifts. From her parents, she got a new set of beautiful emerald green dress robes ("I saw these robes and thought of you. I think they'll bring out your eyes!"), and an individual, heartfelt letter from each of them along a similar vein as her grandfather's. Her little sister Miranda sent her a hand-knitted red and gold scarf ("Gran's been teaching me how to knit. It turned out a bit shorter than I wanted, but I hope you like it!"), and her brother Michael gave her a tin of ginger newts and two chocolate frogs. Mitchell and Isabella gave her a lightweight dragonhide wand holster with magical properties that included theft-preventing measurers and damage protection, and Mitchell also wrote about how proud he was of her in his letter. The sentiment touched Minerva, and she was pleased at the implication of the gift. Her parents may pretend like she'd never have to deal with the war, but her older brother knew better, and knew there would be no stopping her from helping once she graduated. She would be of-age whenever she went home, now, and so she could also perform magic to defend herself should the need arise during the breaks. A good holster was important for that.
Her aunt and uncle sent a pouch with fifty galleons, along with a confirmation that her subscription to Transfiguration Today had been renewed for another year. They included her cousin Mason's name on the letter. Her aunt on her mother's side, Sylvia Chase, sent a heavy silver locket, along with a letter explaining its significance.
Dearest Minerva,
Happy birthday! I'm sure you're receiving loads of weepy letters about your coming-of-age, and while I too cannot believe how fast you've grown up, I will do my best to spare you the emotional drivel. Yes, I'm a terrible Hufflepuff. We all know.
Seventeen is an important age in a witch's life, and I wanted to mark this day with a special gift (yes, I know, sentimental – I said I'd do my best, not that I'd completely spare you). I decided to give you something that my Nana Prewett gave me on my seventeenth birthday. She gave your mother and me each our own necklace, but I think your mother has forgotten about hers considering she exclusively wears that magical family pendant around her neck that your father gave her on their wedding day. I know you also wear one, but I wanted to pass this down for sentimental reasons, mostly. Nana Prewett advised us to pass them on to our daughters, and, well, you and I both know I don't plan on having any children. Yet, her suggestion stuck with me, perhaps because I knew even then that I had no plans for children. It did make me feel guilty. Conversely, your mother, who had no such guilt, likely forgot all about it. So, I'm swooping out from under her and giving mine to her eldest daughter. I'm sure Miranda would appreciate Halina's, anyway.
Ultimately, I just want you to have it. I understand how important it is that you wear your family pendant, so I don't actually expect you to wear this, but perhaps when you see it in your jewelry box, you'll think of me and your Prewett ancestors.
Much love,
Aunt Sylvia
Minerva smiled fondly throughout Sylvia's letter, and looked at the locket with new appreciation. It was true that her McGonagall family pendant never left her neck because of the importance of some of the magic the opal stone held, but it was also charmed to allow the wearer to safely change the way they wore it. Minerva could easily change the setting to a bracelet rather than a pendant on a chain should she wish to wear Sylvia's locket. The details on how to do this were in the Family Book in her trunk.
Setting the locket and letter aside, she moved on to the rest of her gifts. All that remained were gifts from her friends, and from Oliver. Oliver bought her gold stud Celtic knot earrings with a red gemstone in the center, and they came with a very self-conscious note about this purchase that Minerva found endearing. When she read Rolanda's note accompanying a new set of Quidditch goggles, she couldn't help but laugh at the line, "I noticed yours were in a sorry state, and I won't have any Gryffindors using their Seeker's inability to see as an excuse when we crush you on the Quidditch pitch next month!" Poppy gifted her a copy of Animato Animagus, which garnered an eyeroll from Minerva ("Now you can stop checking it out of the library and pretending like you don't need this book. Next step:TALK TO DUMBLEDORE!"). Pomona's gift touched Minerva most of all of her friends' gifts, because of the accompanying note: Happy birthday, Minerva! I asked Professors Gibson and Marsh what they used to keep their lessons organized, and they directed me to this company. They said this type of planner is dead useful for organizing lessons for different levels and making notes about individuals. I hope it works for you, too! I'm so proud of you and your Transfiguration Club! Love, Pomona.
The Transfiguration Club was going well so far. She'd had her friends put up notices on their common rooms' boards to help advertise her tutoring throughout the school. Minerva had five students who came to every one of the biweekly meetings, each in a different level. Two were in Gryffindor, two were in Ravenclaw, and one was in Hufflepuff. A handful more came every now and then to ask questions or just do their Transfiguration assignments near her, just in case. Minerva was proud, too, of what she had accomplished with these students, and how much she'd seen them grow in just a few weeks, if only in their confidence in asking questions.
Minerva was alone in her dorm, as her dormmates had gotten up and left as she'd opened her presents. They'd each wished her a happy birthday, either when they got out of bed or right before they walked out the door. The day had barely started, and Minerva was already in a good mood. Smiling happily, she got out of bed to get ready for the day, excited about the prospect of having her birthday fall on a weekend.
Oliver was waiting in the common room for her, and he grinned and stood when he saw her. She smiled back, and her eyes locked on the bouquet of flowers in his hands. He offered them to her once she made it down the stairs, greeting her with an enthusiastic, "Happy birthday!" He then leaned forward conspiratorially and said, "I nicked them from one of the greenhouses, but don't tell Pomona, or she might tell Marsh!"
Minerva laughed and accepted them, "Thank you, Oliver. They're beautiful. And as Prefect," she paused and gave him a playfully sharp look. To her great amusement, she was rewarded for this dramatic pause by the brief flicker of fear that flashed across Oliver's face, "I'll let this gross infraction slide just this once. I'm in a good mood, you know."
Oliver sighed in relief and shook his head at his girlfriend, "You're lucky it's your birthday, or I'd be getting you back for that one, McGonagall." Minerva simply laughed, and then gave him a light kiss on the lips.
After giving Minerva a minute to bring the flowers back up to her dorm to put them in water, the two Gryffindors made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast hand-in-hand. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, including their newest additions, Chaser Catriona McCormack and reserve Beaters David Llewellyn and Roy Reeves, all waved enthusiastically when they saw her. Donnie shot red sparks out of his wand. Catriona had been the fourth-year girl badgering Minerva about tryouts. Minerva had been pleasantly surprised at the girl's skill and was happy to not have to crush her spirit at the end of tryouts.
Minerva sat down, surrounded by the Quidditch team, and was greeted with a chorus of warm Happy birthdays. Surrounded by their warmth and affection, Minerva felt more inclined to lean against Oliver affectionately. He beamed down at her as he loosely draped an arm around her after she settled against his shoulder. Minerva rolled her eyes when Hank stood up on the bench and announced to the rest of the Gryffindors that their Quidditch Captain turned seventeen today. She weakly insisted that he sit back down, and after shaking her head, she made eye contact with Prewett, who smirked at her. She gave him a small smile in return. They may not be close, but he of all people understood that not all Gryffindors enjoyed this much attention.
After breakfast, Minerva met up with her best friends and they spent some time together in their secret room. Minerva thanked them for their presents and told them about the rest of her gifts. She did tell Pomona about the greenhouse theft, but because she knew Pomona would find it sweet rather than scandalous. She had been correct; Pomona thought that the flowers had gone to a good and romantic cause. After about an hour together, they all went down to the Quidditch pitch and met the Gryffindor Quidditch team, plus Lucretia and Richard. They all took to the sky and just enjoyed flying around the pitch, racing and performing various aerial tricks that would be completely impractical in a normal game of Quidditch.
It didn't take long for Rolanda to realize they had exactly the right amount of people on the pitch for a game of Quidditch. She enlisted Minerva's help in begging Pomona and Poppy to agree to play as Chasers for a pickup game. Seeing the delight in Minerva's eyes in particular, the two soft-hearted girls couldn't refuse. To play fair, the Gryffindor team split up. There was a starting Beater paired with a reserve Beater on each team. On Minerva's team, she ended up with Rolanda, Oliver, David, Amelia, Catriona, and Richard, while the other team consisted of Lucretia, Prewett, Roy, Donnie, Hank, Poppy, and Pomona.
Rolanda and Minerva were thrilled to be able to play on the same team for a change, and Lucretia and Prewett seemed pretty pleased as well. As they took their positions in the center of the field, Rolanda spoke up, "Now remember everybody, we're just here to have fun and celebrate Minerva. I want to see a nice, clean game. We wouldn't want anybody to get injured before the big match; I want a real challenge when November rolls around." She punctuated this with a wink at Minerva, who rolled her eyes and grinned in response. Rolanda grinned back.
Minerva and Lucretia, the two Seekers and Captains for the pickup game, shook hands. Oliver tossed the Quaffle into the air for the Chasers to wrestle over, and then released the Bludgers and Snitch. The players promptly shot off. The game was not nearly as high stakes as a normal Hogwarts Quidditch match, yet it was a lot of fun in a different way. It was fun to simultaneously want to win, but to also not take the game so seriously. There was a lot of unexpected laughter at near-misses with Bludgers and obnoxious trick-shots that would never work in a real game.
Minerva couldn't envision a better way to spend her birthday.
Later that day, at night after most of the students had gone to bed, Minerva and Oliver sat curled up together on the couch in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Minerva's head rested against his chest, and his chin rested on her head. They talked quietly, occasionally laughing softly, as they relived the day together. Minerva watched their fingers, entwined in her lap, as his thumb rubbed circles against the back of her hand. She murmured, "I can't believe how close you came to knocking Lucretia off her broom. Prewett looked murderous."
"Prewett's used to it," he replied softly. "Though I didn't expect her to move so close to it."
"Weren't you trying to hit her?"
"No, just spook her."
"Oh dear."
Oliver snorted. "Well, it helped you win, didn't it?"
"Us win."
He grinned, "Right, of course. It was a team effort."
Minerva tilted her head up to look at him, and Oliver tilted his chin down to the same end. They smiled softly at each other, drunk in their cocoon of infatuation. Oliver leaned down and kissed her gently, slowly. Minerva inhaled sharply, and her free hand came up to grasp the front of his robes. She slid up an inch to give him better access, deepening the kiss. She wasn't sure how many students were still up in the common room, but she was too wrapped up his kisses to care. His arm wrapped more securely around her waist, holding her close as he kissed her. Thrills ran through Minerva's body as their lips moved together. One shot right through her heart as his tongue touched hers experimentally. She welcomed him eagerly, sliding her tongue against his. She felt warmth all over. Part of her felt like she could stay in this position forever, because she never wanted this kiss to end –
– and then Oliver pulled away, "Minerva?"
Minerva blinked dazedly, "Hmm? What?"
He smiled fondly at her, "Any chance you've changed your mind about that date under the stars?"
It took Minerva a moment to remember what he was talking about, but when she did, she bit her lip to mask the fact that she wanted to smile broadly at him. Some of her smile slipped through, though, and Oliver grinned back at her. Without responding, Minerva sat up and straightened her robes and hair. Oliver sat up as well, watching her, waiting for an answer. Finally, she stood and offered her hand to him, "We'd better not get caught, then."
Oliver's face split into another grin. He took her hand and stood, "It's a good thing, then, that we have a Prefect with us who knows the schedule for rounds."
Minerva gave him an amused smirk and led him out of the portrait hole.
Racing their brooms against each other in the dead of night, away from the bright lights of the castle, was a completely different experience from the one they'd had earlier that day. With just the two of them, it felt all the more special. The beautiful night sky was an added bonus. After a few exhilarating laps, they landed in the center of the pitch, where they'd laid in the grass together about a month ago. They laid down again, now to gaze at the stars. Oliver laid on his back and Minerva curled up against him with one of his arms under her neck and one of her hands on his chest. In this position, she could easily alternate between watching the stars and watching him; he could do the same with her.
When Oliver's arm grew tired from Minerva resting on it for too long, they sat up and continued to look up at the stars and talk quietly. Although there was no one else around, they felt the need to respect the solemn silence of their surroundings. They talked about the stories they knew about the constellations they recognized; witches and wizards raised in the wizarding world were well versed in ancient mythology. When Minerva was finished sharing what she knew about Orion and Artemis, she looked over at Oliver to find him staring at her instead of the sky. She blushed, and he grinned, but she did not look away. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Minerva murmured, "It's a beautiful night." Oliver's lips quirked, and she feared she knew what he was going to say. She cut him off to prevent him from being so sickeningly sweet, "Don't you dare."
Oliver laughed, "I thought it, but I wasn't going to say it. I knew you'd hex me if I did."
Minerva shot him a playfully admonishing look before looking away, feeling bashful. His hand under her chin gently encouraged her to turn back. Minerva's heart leapt when she noticed he'd leaned in closer. She smiled slightly and then leaned forward herself to close the distance. The contrast of his warm mouth against the cool night air set her senses on fire. She buried her hand in his hair and kissed him deeply, eagerly, unafraid of being discovered or interrupted. Oliver wrapped both arms around her, drawing her closer, and returned her kiss with equal eagerness and desire. As passions they'd suppressed bubbled to the surface, their kiss grew more urgent, almost aggressive, as if they would never again have a chance to have this level of privacy in a public place. Oliver's fingers danced up and down her spine, spending thrills throughout her body. She gasped as his mouth left hers to take her earlobe into his mouth, and then moaned softly in appreciation. Feeling encouraged, Oliver guided her onto her back and resumed kissing her with her pinned to the ground. Minerva knew she was greatly enjoying this, but the rational part of her brain that wouldn't rest even in a situation like this insistently reminded her that she would regret it if this kiss moved any further than it already had tonight. Oliver's free hand was starting to wander, and Minerva had resolved to herself at the beginning of this relationship that she was going to make sure they took things slow. She certainly did not want the kiss to end just yet, but for the remainder of the time it naturally went on, Minerva managed to maintain control over where exactly his hands wandered. Oliver quickly learned that experimenting with her ears and neck was welcome, and even encouraged, but heavy petting was, as of now, out of the question. Minerva was grateful he didn't push her, because even she wasn't completely sure she didn't want that.
Eventually, their passionate kisses ended, and they laid next to each other in the grass, staring at each other and continuing to share a few soft, more innocent kisses. They both felt, strangely, simultaneously satisfied and completely unsatisfied, happy with what they'd done together but both deep down wanting more.
Saturday, 17 October 1942
The weeks passed, and soon enough the first Hogsmeade visit of term was upon them. Minerva, Oliver, and their friends made the most of the visit, making sure they had everything they needed for Slughorn's Halloween party. Minerva, Poppy, and Pomona, new to Slughorn's way of doing things, relied heavily upon Rolanda as they assembled their costumes. They decided to primarily make adjustments to things they already owned, but there were still things they needed to purchase. Rolanda explained that "festive" meant "festive formal;" at the end of the day, Slughorn's parties were for peacocking and networking. They were supposed to incorporate a costume into normal dress robes using colors and accessories. Evidently masks and elaborate hats were popular options for this. Minerva considered simply creating a mask using Transfiguration but decided that she'd like to keep the mask as a keepsake of the evening, and so she and Oliver bought masks together in Hogsmeade for their costumes.
Pomona, thankfully, also reminded Minerva that she had wanted to look into purchasing glasses for her suspected farsightedness, and her friends went with her as she received confirmation that her vision did in fact need correcting for objects close-up. They helped her pick out a pair of simple square-framed spectacles that they felt didn't hide her face, and she walked out with them minutes later.
The first Hogsmeade visit was also Minerva and Oliver's first real date, and so after making their purchases they parted ways with their friends to go off on their own. They had lunch at a restaurant called Glasshouse off the main drag of Hogsmeade, and then went for a walk around town. Oliver bought flowers for her from a vendor and presented them to her with a boyish grin; Minerva rewarded him with a kiss on the lips right there in the middle of the street.
Minerva carried her good mood from her day in Hogsmeade with her all the way through the day to her rounds. It was her second Saturday patrol of term, and her last patrol until November, since autumn break would be upon them starting tomorrow. Patrols on Fridays and Saturdays usually were the source of the best stories, since more students were trying to push the limits of their curfew with no classes to worry about the next day. Minerva had a spring in her step as she walked the halls of the fourth floor, both in a good mood from her day but also eager to catch her fellow students making mischief.
The first mischief-maker she came upon during her patrol, though, was not a student. In a whirl of gleeful laughter and a loud bang, Peeves twisted around the corner and stopped directly in front of her. "Oh, lookie here! It's Minnie McG! Trying to catch naughty students, are we?"
"Hello, Peeves," Minerva replied, putting on an outward appearance of patience while inwardly feeling extremely wary of how this interaction might go. Peeves removed his hat and did a flip in the air, seemingly awaiting a genuine answer to his question. "Yes, I'm patrolling."
"Well then, do I have a present for you!" Peeves replied gleefully. "But, first, you have to say the magic word."
Minerva's lips quirked upwards, amused in spite of herself, "Peeves, will you please help me catch naughty students?"
"That's not the magic word!" Peeves replied, aghast.
"Then what is the magic word?" Minerva asked, exasperated.
"Well, if Minnie doesn't know, then maybe I shouldn't tell you!"
Minerva folded her hands behind her back, just about at the end of her already limited patience. She inhaled quietly, slowly through her nose and said, "Peeves, I'm very sorry that I don't know the magic word. Would you please tell it to me?"
Peeves spun around her a few times, creating a flurry of wind that made Minerva's robes flap around her loudly. Minerva squinted her eyes and tried to push her robes down, hoping he would stop soon. Eventually, mercifully, he did, hovering directly in front of her once again. He sighed dramatically and mock-whispered, "It's gardyloo."
Minerva snorted and said, "Peeves, I want to catch naughty students: gardyloo."
"Well, why didn't you say so?" Peeves exclaimed dramatically. He swooped lower, putting his face directly in front of hers. Minerva stood her ground. He gave her a wide, toothy grin and said, "I heard some moaning in the next corridor, three doors down on the right, and I promise, it's not a ghost." With that, he flew up and over her, cackling, off to undoubtedly wreak havoc in some other part of the castle.
Minerva's face turned red as the implication of his words hit her, and sighed heavily as she resigned herself to acting on this information. She sorely hoped he was joking, but, knowing Peeves, if he wanted to have her on, that was not the sort of thing he would have said. Minerva dutifully turned the corner, counted three doors down on her right, and stopped to listen. Sure enough, she heard giggling coming from the other side, followed closely by a gasp of pleasure. She was uncertain about what she should do. Her instinct was to knock, of course, but there were many classrooms in Hogwarts that had doors inside of them connecting them to other rooms. She was supposed to catch misbehaving students, not scare them to another part of the castle. And, depending on their year, they might know the Disillusionment Charm. To Minerva's dismay, she reached the logical conclusion that knocking was not an option for catching rulebreakers. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.
A feminine squeal followed this action, followed by a masculine voice cursing. Minerva cracked her eyes open a smidge and determined with relief that the room's occupants were clothed. Well, mostly, she discovered upon opening her eyes all the way. She blinked in surprise as she recognized Nicholas Pomfrey and Charity Goode, a girl from Minerva's year in Ravenclaw. She was more surprised to see Charity than Nicholas, and particularly surprised to see them together. Nicholas's shirt was open, though he was quickly buttoning it. Charity was holding the top of her robes together, her face bright red. Minerva gave her yearmate a disappointed look before saying, "It's after curfew, and considering you're seventh- and sixth-years, I'm sure you know that. 10 points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw." Nicholas rolled his eyes, buttoning his final buttons. Minerva pursed her lips at him. "Well, go on, back to your houses."
Nicholas walked out of the room without a word. Charity looked after him regretfully. Minerva felt disgust rise within her at the longing expression on Charity's face, but did her best to squash it.
Once Nicholas was out of sight, Charity's eyes darted back to Minerva, and she flushed red again. "Er – I just – I need," and without further explanation, she turned her back on Minerva and started fiddling with the top of her robes. After her hands stopped moving, she stayed in that position for a minute, as though steeling herself for something. Eventually, she rounded on Minerva with her shoulders set and her head held high, "I know what you're thinking."
"Is it that you're smarter than this?"
Charity's lips formed a hard, thin line at that. "He's not going to be like that forever, you know. Someone is going to make him interested in commitment, eventually."
Minerva gave her a dubious, pitying expression. "And do you really think that that's going to happen while he's still a teenager in school?"
"It could!" Charity replied in a high-pitched voice.
Minerva's lips parted slightly in disbelief at the absolute naivety coming from the Ravenclaw across from her. She was speechless.
"Look, I know what he is. I'm having fun with him, playing along with his games. He certainly knows what he's doing, if you know what I mean," her lips curled mischievously at that, her eyes sparkling. "And, if doing all these things together leads to Nicholas Pomfrey finally falling in love, I wouldn't say no to that."
Minerva shook her head and said quietly, "You're going to get hurt, Charity."
Charity scowled and replied harshly, "You don't know him! Or me, for that matter!" With that, Charity marched past Minerva and out of the room. Minerva stared after her, feeling dumbfounded, pitying, and – at Nicholas – a little angry.
Friday, 30 October 1942
Faster than anybody felt prepared for, the day before Halloween was upon them. Of Minerva's five dormmates, only Clarisse received an invitation; Minerva suspected that Slughorn saw value in Clarisse's strong charisma and overall good interpersonal skills. None of the other Gryffindor girls in Minerva's year had found a date to take them, and so Clarisse and Minerva had the dorm to themselves as they got ready for the party.
When Minerva finished, she stood back from the mirror to examine her appearance. She was wearing old dress robes she'd Transfigured from blue into golden. She was pleased with how well they fit her, and with how the color turned out. She'd also Transfigured herself two bracelets with faux claws hanging from them like charms from a string and rocks. Her mask was also gold, and covered about half her face, from the tip of her nose to her forehead. It was rounded at the top, and she'd charmed a pattern onto it that resembled whiskers. She could not wear her new glasses with the mask, but thankfully did not really need them just for a party.
Clarisse interrupted Minerva's private examination, "You look lovely!"
Minerva turned and smiled tightly at Clarisse, "Thank you. I was worried it would be too unoriginal."
"I think it's so simple that no one would even think they could pull it off. You do it well," Clarisse assured her.
Minerva thanked her again and returned the compliment. Clarisse seemed to be going as a ghost; her dress robes were layered with blues and whites and greys; her eye mask was white with grey around the eyeholes, and blue lining the edge; and her makeup was much whiter than normal. Minerva self-consciously thought that Clarisse had put more effort into her costume and that choosing a lioness had been lazy on her part, but there was nothing to be done about it now.
Clarisse and Minerva descended the stairs to the common room together to meet their dates. Minerva grinned when she saw Oliver in his costume. He was also wearing gold dress robes, with the white frills that were currently in style. They'd made adjustments to the frills around his collar, though, adding tawny fur and a little more volume. Minerva was pleased with how it turned out; miraculously, he didn't look ridiculous, at least to her. He also wore a gold mask with the same charmed whisker design. Oliver grinned back at her when he saw her. Waiting next to him was his dormmate Edmund Douglas, who Minerva knew she was somehow related to through the MacVanish Clan, and who was dressed just like Clarisse. He'd added a ghostly white top hat to his costume.
The quartet of Gryffindors made their way down to the dungeons and found themselves waiting in a short line to be checked in to Slughorn's party. They could hear faint music ahead. Minerva leaned closer to Oliver and commented, "I can't believe he's allowed to be this exclusive. It's very have- and have-not of him, isn't it?"
Oliver shrugged, "That's how the pureblood world seems from my perspective. Networking parties, education in family history, rivalries…wouldn't you agree?"
Minerva grimaced, "I do, completely. I am proud to know so much about my family's history, but it's true the fact that we're still pureblooded doesn't sit well with me. We talk a lot about equality, but…"
Oliver rubbed one of her shoulders soothingly, "Well, perhaps you and your siblings are the change." She looked up at him, and he winked at her. Her stomach somersaulted at the implication coming from her half-blooded boyfriend.
She turned away and replied nonchalantly, "Mitchell's already begun, sort of. My nephew, Chris, isn't a pureblood – he's not even completely human – but, well, it looks like he's going to marry a pureblood anyway. Baby steps, I suppose."
Oliver looked sharply down at her, "Chris isn't human? Is Rebecca not human? Is Rolanda not human?"
Minerva opened her mouth in surprise, still not turning to face him. She forgot, sometimes, that it wasn't common knowledge that the Robinson siblings were half-Veela. It was something she'd learned long ago, right before she'd first met Rolanda's mother, and so at this point, it seemed completely normal to her. Minerva turned back to face Oliver and urged him close. He leaned in, his face crinkled in confusion, and she murmured, "She's half-Veela." His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to reply, but she shushed him. "Don't make a scene about it. Half-Veelas only get one of their Veela-parent's extensive magical abilities to pass on. Rolanda still isn't sure what hers is, but she knows it has nothing to do with seduction. Don't..." she glanced around anxiously, "it's not a big deal, but don't spread it around."
Oliver shut his mouth but continued to stare at Minerva, wide-eyed. Minerva turned away from him, slightly annoyed at how stunned he seemed. They waited through the rest of the line in silence, until they were checked in by seventh-year Slytherin Cuthbert Mockridge, who seemed to be working the event rather than attending it. Once they crossed the threshold, Oliver pulled her aside and said, "I'm sorry if I overreacted. I was surprised. Can you blame me?"
Minerva pursed her lips at him. He looked somewhat apologetic, with wide, earnest brown eyes and a lopsided smile. She wondered if he knew exactly how effective that expression was at wiggling its way into her heart. Looking at him, she suddenly felt silly for being so annoyed. She couldn't fight the smile that was making the corners of her pursed lips twitch, and he could tell. His lopsided smile grew into a grin, and he offered her his hand. Minerva rolled her eyes playfully and accepted. They made their way to the dance floor, where a skeleton band was playing the music. Minerva thought this was very festive.
As they danced, Minerva looked around to see if she could spot any of her friends yet. There were a decent number of people dancing, socializing, and inspecting the hors d'oeuvres, but it was clear that this wasn't everyone. Minerva didn't even see Slughorn himself yet. Just as she was wondering where the Slytherin Head of House could be, he entered through a different door than the one for guests, surrounded by his inner circle of the Slug Club. He was flanked on his immediate right and left by Tom Riddle and Abraxas Malfoy. Minerva couldn't help but notice that this inner circle consisted solely of men. The one Gryffindor among them was the Head Boy, Henry O'Brien.
Minerva was pulled from her growing indignation by a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw that it was Rolanda, beaming at her with silver lips. She was wearing beautiful robes of swirling gold and silver, with an eye mask to match. Emerald and ruby jewels hung from her ears and around her neck; as Minerva took her best friend in, she sincerely hoped that those jewels weren't real. Rolanda would be wearing a small fortune if they were.
Rolanda laughed at the speechless expression on Minerva's face and teased, "You look great, too, Minerva."
Minerva snorted and raised a single eyebrow, forgetting Rolanda would not be able to see it under her mask, "What are you supposed to be?"
Rolanda wiggled her gold-coated eyebrows, "Treasure."
"What?"
Rolanda jerked her thumb behind her, and Minerva realized Richard was standing behind his girlfriend. He was wearing robes that were nearly as elaborate as his girlfriend's, recalling the colors and style of a pirate in a much more dignified way than a real pirate would have dressed. Minerva thought he made good use of the ruffled robes trend with this costume. Minerva covered her mouth with her hand to smother a giggle as she took him in. Richard grinned in response and said, "Argh!" Rolanda turned to him and laughed, her face lit with love and affection. Minerva smiled softly at them.
Not long after, they were joined by Poppy and Pomona, who explained they were dressed to represent fauna and flora, respectively. The six of them gathered around a tall table clearly meant for standing with drinks and snacks. Minerva couldn't recall ever being happier than she felt right now, surrounded by her friends and leaning against a boy she liked very much, letting the worries of the war slip away for an evening.
About a half-hour into the evening, Rolanda placed a hand on Minerva's shoulder and leaned in close, murmuring, "Peter Green, to your left. Look."
Minerva turned and found her ex-boyfriend from fifth year leaning against another table with one arm loosely draped around a girl who definitely looked familiar. Peter said something to her that caused her to smile and turn her face away from him, towards Minerva. Minerva's jaw dropped and her head snapped back in Rolanda's direction, "Christine fucking Geris?"
Rolanda clamped a hand over her mouth to smother her snigger at Minerva's colorful language. Minerva couldn't help it; she was genuinely shocked. She leaned closer to Rolanda and whispered angrily, "He barely wants to snog me and then he goes and gets himself involved with the girl who's slept with half of sixth and seventh year?"
Rolanda grimaced and shrugged, "Maybe you just weren't his type?"
Minerva turned back to her drink, grumbling, "Unbelievable." She shook her head, downed her drink, and took Oliver's arm, saying at a normal volume, "Let's dance."
Oliver set down his own drink and obliged, completely oblivious to the conversation that had just occurred next to him. Once they left, Poppy, ever perceptive, turned to Rolanda and asked, "Is she alright?"
Rolanda nodded, waving her hand dismissively. "Oh, yeah. She just was surprised to see Peter with Christine, is all."
Poppy and Pomona both turned their heads sharply, looking around for Peter Green. Rolanda guided them in the right direction. They stared for a few seconds before turning back to Rolanda, wide-eyed. Pomona asked, "Does she still have feelings for him?"
"I doubt it. I think she's more offended than anything. She passed off his behavior as him just having a low libido, but if he's hanging round Christine Geris…well. That girl doesn't waste her time."
Poppy shook her head, "Well, Minerva's a beautiful girl, so it's his loss. It's for the best, anyway. She seems happy with Oliver." Pomona and Rolanda smiled, and they all turned to watch the couple in question dance.
Rolanda leaned against Richard, who had been observing this conversation with both vague amusement and discomfort. The casual way they discussed Peter Green's libido made him wonder what Rolanda said about him to her friends when he wasn't around. He couldn't help but reflect on the times they'd had sex and started to analyze his performance more critically. Rolanda, though, unwittingly stopped him from going down that rabbit hole by asking him to dance with her. He smiled down at her and took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor.
Pomona and Poppy stood in silence for a moment, left behind by their two friends with boyfriends. Poppy preoccupied herself with eating the hors d'oeuvres she'd chosen from Slughorn's spread, while Pomona people-watched from her position against the wall. Her eyes lingered on a boy standing alone by the drinks, wearing dark grey robes and a furry beaked mask. It was hard to tell with the beaked mask, but after watching him for a minute, she grew surer of who he was. She nudged Poppy, and then jerked her head in the boy's direction, "I think that's Nathan Pomfrey."
Poppy looked around, taking a moment to locate him. She watched him stand uncomfortably off to the side of the party, clutching his drink tightly near his chest, for a moment before turning back to Pomona. "He doesn't look like he came here with anyone. I thought everyone had a date? The whole school was being so predatory about invitations."
"I saw his brother earlier. Nicholas isn't a member of the Slug Club, and I doubt that changed in his seventh year. I'm guessing Nathan brought him."
Poppy turned back to Nathan and watched him for a little longer. Pomona watched Poppy's face, and grinned as she noticed a small smile playing at the Ravenclaw's lips. She said nothing, though, knowing how independent Poppy was. Pushing her would have the opposite of the desired effect. Eventually, though, Pomona was rewarded for her patience when Poppy turned back to face her and asked quietly, "Do you think I should talk to him?"
Pomona grinned and answered an affirmative, restraining herself from saying more. Poppy huffed and looked at Nathan again, her expression now betraying nervousness and hesitance. Pomona gave Poppy a half-hug from the side, murmuring, "You are brilliant, loyal, funny, and beautiful." Poppy shot her an incredulous look. Pomona raised her eyebrows defiantly and grinned, "You definitely have the best breasts of the four of us." Poppy snorted, her face coloring. Pomona shrugged nonchalantly and turned away, "If you want him, he's yours. If you don't, no pressure, there's plenty of fish in the sea. Edmund doesn't seem to be having the best time with Clarisse."
Poppy didn't look over at Edmund and Clarisse, though. She looked back towards Nathan. Pomona grinned as she watched resolve settle in her best friend's face and knew even before Poppy turned to say goodbye that she would soon be left alone. For the sake of her friend's potential happiness, she did not mind one bit as she watched Poppy walk away from her, over to where Nathan Pomfrey stood.
Poppy, though, felt nervous. She wasn't the best with people; she often came off as too blunt. Instead of greeting Nathan directly, she busied herself by pouring some pumpkin juice from the appropriate fountain. In her peripheral vision, she saw Nathan's lips part in surprise as he recognized her, his head turning to follow her movement. Her heart pounded nervously. She did fancy him. She'd thought he was attractive for some months now. The information that he talked about her to his brother a great deal had been very good news. But caring too much had backfired on her in the past, even when there was mutual attraction involved. Part of her wished he would say something, now that there wasn't a group of mutual friends surrounding them, but she doubted he would. Nathan was shy. Poppy, though, was too, more than she'd like to be.
She took a sip of pumpkin juice and breathed evenly through her nose, attempting to calm herself. Slowly, she turned her back on the drinks table to watch the crowd. She was taken by surprise as a couple nearly walked into her, trying to make it to the drinks table as well. Squeaking slightly in surprise, she side-stepped out of their way, inadvertently placing herself directly next to Nathan. She felt him stiffen beside her, but found this endearing rather than discouraging. He truly was nervous, too. He probably wanted to say something to her, too, but wasn't brave enough.
Emboldened, Poppy turned to look at him, "That's Nathan Pomfrey under that mask, isn't it?"
Nathan glanced at her quickly. She could see surprise in his eyes through his mask. He hurried to reply, "Uh – yes – hi."
Poppy smiled at him, "Thought so. How long have you been part of the Slug Club?"
Nathan turned back to people-watching and answered, "Er – since the last Christmas party. I don't know why, though."
Poppy raised her eyebrows, "It's probably because of how talented you are. If it's family connections, your brother would have been invited too." Nathan's cheeks colored, but he said nothing. Poppy waited to see if he would, but when it was clear he had nothing to say to that, she continued, "I'm surprised we haven't spoken much, seeing as we're in the same house in the same year."
Nathan shrugged, "Different friend groups, I suppose." When it seemed like he wasn't going to say anything else, Poppy started to grow frustrated with him. He really didn't know how to talk to a girl he supposedly fancied. He wasn't making this easy. Just as she was wondering if she should give up, Nathan glanced over at her and added, "But, me too."
Poppy blinked, forgetting for a second what she'd said. Once she remembered, she smiled slightly at him. "It's my first time at one of his parties. Minerva's too. Our friend Pomona didn't get an invitation, so I brought her along as my guest."
"I'm surprised you've never gotten an invitation. You're a shoe-in for Head Girl next year." He didn't look at her when he said this, and Poppy was too surprised to notice how red his face was.
Poppy's mouth formed an 'O' of surprise and she blushed at that statement. "Oh, I'm not so sure. Minerva –"
"– would be too preoccupied with Quidditch to be a Head Girl in this climate," he cut in. She was taken aback not only by his certainty but also his sudden confidence. Seemingly oblivious to Poppy's shock, he continued, "Besides, it's likely Malfoy will be Head Boy, and those two cannot effectively manage the students together."
"Well, then neither of them should be Head; it's not fair for only her to be disqualified because his family murdered members of hers," Poppy replied, feeling defensive on behalf of her friend.
Nathan turned towards her quickly, the color draining from his face, "I didn't mean – oh Merlin – I'm sorry – of course, you're right. Hopefully Dippet and the other Heads will see it that way too." He put his face in his hands, the tips of his fingers sliding under his mask. Poppy noticed his face regaining color, coming back pinker, through his fingers.
She placed a hand hesitantly on his arm, "It's alright." His hands slid back down and he glanced down at her warily. She quirked a smile at him, "The idea of Minerva and Malfoy trying to be Head Girl and Boy together is pretty comical."
He snorted and looked away. Poppy let her hand fall from its place on his arm regretfully. Touching him, even in such a small, innocent way, had thrilled her. She turned away from him so that they were now standing side by side again, watching their peers dancing, chatting, and networking with Slughorn's former students.
"Do you read Challenges in Charming?" Poppy blinked at the unexpected question. She looked back up at him; he was still watching the crowd.
"Yes," she replied.
"Have you read through this week's issue yet?"
"Yes."
"What did you think about Doubleday's article on strengthening the Glacius Charm?"
Poppy's eyes lit up, "Oh, I thought it was fascinating, but as someone who wants to go into Healing, it was also very concerning – particularly considering we're at war."
Nathan responded well to her enthusiasm, and the two of them became engrossed in their conversation about the potential for stronger versions of the Glacius Charm. Meanwhile, Minerva and Oliver were taking a break from dancing. Oliver left Minerva at a table to go get food for them both. Minerva folded her hands on the table and sighed happily, feeling exhilarated from their dancing. Oliver wasn't the most coordinated dancer – Minerva found herself leading half the time – and she could tell that he much preferred their breaks over the time they spent actually dancing, but she appreciated that he was trying for her. She loved dancing.
While Minerva waited for Oliver to return, she looked around and discovered that about three feet behind her was a wizard dressed in jet-black robes with minimal white frills, slicked back dark hair, and a white eyemask charmed with dark circles around the eyeholes. She thought she saw a hint of sharp white teeth peeking out from under his lips. He stood alone, watching the crowd, and he paid no attention to her despite their closeness. She turned to face him and called, "Tom Riddle, is it?"
He turned and met her eyes. A slow, charming smile spread onto his face, revealing that he had indeed sharpened his eyeteeth for the occasion. She held out her hand for him to shake, and he took it. "Minerva McGonagall. I'm one of the sixth-year Prefects for Gryffindor."
Riddle nodded, "I know who you are. There's been some discussion in Slytherin about your Transfiguration tutoring."
"Not bad, I hope?"
"No," he replied, smirking roguishly, "they're arguing about whether they're too proud to ask you for help."
"I'm sure your friend Malfoy doesn't make things easier," she returned.
"Perhaps not. But your cousin does."
Minerva smiled, pleased and surprised. She knew Mason hated it when she got involved in his fights within his house, and so she found it heartening that he would come to her defense when she wasn't around, rather than distancing himself from the Gryffindor Golden Girl.
At that moment, Oliver returned with two plates of hors d'oeuvres. He set them down on Minerva's table and eyed Riddle curiously, "Sorry, I don't recognize you with that mask…"
Riddle offered Oliver his hand, and Oliver shook it, "We haven't met. I'm Tom Riddle. Call me Riddle. I'm one of the fifth-year Prefects for Slytherin."
Oliver nodded, "Pleasure. Oliver Brown, Minerva's boyfriend."
Riddle glanced across the room quickly before turning back to the two Gryffindors, "It looks like Malfoy's had too much from his flask. He's glowering at me; I imagine it's because I'm talking to you." He threw a smirk in Minerva's direction. "I ought to ensure he doesn't do anything foolish. Have a good night." With that, Riddle left them.
Minerva turned back to Oliver, unconcerned about whatever Malfoy may get up to while intoxicated. She thanked Oliver for fetching them food before biting into a small bruschetta with tomatoes. While they ate, Oliver placed his free hand on the small of her back. He rubbed circles there, sending tingles throughout her body. They made eye contact as he urged her closer to him with this hand, and one of the corners of his mouth upturned slowly, suggestively. Minerva smirked lightly but looked away, breaking the connection. In the weeks since her birthday, they'd only grown closer physically. A mere two days after their snog on the field of the Quidditch pitch, she happily permitted him to explore more of her body with his hands, over her clothes. It seemed he could never get enough of her. She knew he was asking for them to leave, to find someplace private to snog, but she wasn't quite ready to leave the party yet.
She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Later." Oliver moaned softly in complaint. Minerva grinned at him impishly before turning away from him nonchalantly to scan the room for her friends. She found Pomona chatting with Katherine Williams and her boyfriend Roger Taylor, who were both Hufflepuffs in their year. This led her to wonder where Poppy was, and she was surprised to find her Ravenclaw friend talking animatedly with none other than Nathan Pomfrey. They each had a drink and a plate of food on the table they were leaning against. Rolanda was hardest to find, but she finally found her Slytherin friend standing beside Richard and facing a group of wizards who presumably were former students of Slughorn's. Slughorn himself stood between the two groups. Minerva wondered who he was introducing her friend to; she would have to remember to ask Rolanda about it later.
Minerva still wanted to dance, but she didn't want to subject Oliver to that anymore. He'd been very patient with her over the dancing, but she didn't want to test that patience too much, not when he was so randy. Instead, Minerva took his hand and led him over to Pomona's table. The three Hufflepuffs greeted them warmly. Minerva asked Pomona, "Are you having fun?"
Pomona smiled diplomatically and shrugged, "I had fun getting dressed up, and I like the atmosphere, but I do feel a little out of place. Nearly everyone came with a real date, so there's not much I can do in terms of finding someone to dance with."
Minerva eyed the two men at the table. Interestingly, Minerva noticed Katherine's hand grip Roger's more tightly as Minerva did this, while simultaneously pretending like she didn't notice Minerva's searching glance. Not very Hufflepuff of her, Minerva thought, perhaps a little unfairly, to herself. As for Oliver, well, she'd just talked herself out of asking him to dance again. At least if he'd danced with her, he could feel as though he was seducing her. No, he was too randy to dance with her friend. Minerva turned back to Pomona and smiled, "I'll dance with you, if you'll have me."
Pomona laughed and looked around at the other people present. "I think people would find that even more pitiful," she replied. "But thank you, Minerva. You're a true friend."
Minerva placed a hand solemnly on her shoulder, "Anytime." Pomona nodded back just as solemnly, not breaking eye contact for a solid twenty seconds. Pomona was the first to crack, and Minerva grinned in response immediately after. They laughed, and Pomona drew her into a hug.
"Well," Minerva said, turning towards Oliver, "I don't know about you, but I'm parched. I'll get us drinks?"
"Ah, sure, thank you," he replied. She nodded and started to walk away. He called after her, "Pumpkin juice, please!"
Minerva waved behind herself, confirming she'd heard. She poured herself water, and pumpkin juice for Oliver. She downed half of her own glass at the drink table. As she went to refill it, someone else came up to the table for some pumpkin juice. She glanced over and was surprised to see Dumbledore, in robes of purple and gold with a mask to match. She couldn't determine what he was supposed to be, if, of course, he was trying to be more than just a masqueraded Albus Dumbledore. She smiled at him and greeted, "Hello, Professor Dumbledore!"
He smiled back, "Good evening, Miss McGonagall. Are you enjoying yourself?"
"I am," she replied. "I must say, though, that I was surprised to be invited. Professor Slughorn has never invited me to one of his parties."
Dumbledore sipped his pumpkin juice thoughtfully before replying, "Well, Professor Slughorn and I did have a lengthy conversation about your tutoring group and your potential for Head Girl. He was very impressed with the initiative you've taken in leading your fellow students."
Minerva felt her face heating up; she felt flattered that they had been talking about her. It left her speechless for a moment, but she managed to collect herself enough to reply, "Then I suppose I should thank you for the invitation." She laughed nervously, the sound coming out a little higher-pitched than normal. She truly couldn't believe her professors had been discussing her in such a way.
Dumbledore laughed, and returned, "Ah, the praise was well-deserved." He raised his glass to her in toast, "Have a good night, Miss McGonagall."
Minerva quickly returned the gesture, and replied, "Have a good night, sir."
Dumbledore then left the table with a swish of his purple and gold robes. Minerva picked up both her and Oliver's glasses and made her way back to her table with an extra spring in her step.
"Shhh!"
Minerva giggled softly as she fast walked through Hogwarts, up from the dungeons, through the basement and ground floor, to the first floor where there were more empty classrooms and hidden passageways. She was pulling Oliver along behind her, who had playfully shushed her, warning her that her giggling may get them caught by the caretaker, Huxley Cavil, at any moment. They were out past curfew and clearly not on their way back to Gryffindor Tower from Slughorn's party. They would be in trouble if they were caught. Yet Minerva, feeling exhilarated, did not stop giggling.
Oliver yanked her aside, behind a tapestry that covered a passageway. He pinned her up against the wall, and Minerva's eyes flew open, wide and eager. She laced her fingers through his hair in anticipation, but he held her at a distance, his eyes raking over her. He leaned forward and let his lips brush her ear as he whispered, "You better stay quiet, you insolent little minx. Wouldn't want to get caught by a Prefect – I hear the sixth-year Gryffindor one's a menace – the female one, of –"
He was cut off by Minerva's lips on his. He kissed her back enthusiastically for a few seconds, before pulling away to take their masks off. When she realized what he was after, Minerva helped, and then quickly resumed their kiss. Their arms snaked tightly around each other as their lips moved together fervently. Minerva moaned appreciatively as he sucked on her lower lip, and then sighed in surprise and delight as his tongue slid across her lower lip and into her mouth. His hands roamed across her body, enjoying the feel of her curves through her robes. One of Minerva's hands slid up and down the front of his chest, clenching and unclenching his robes in her fist. One of his hands wandered lower, taking a moment to appreciate her bum before sliding down to grasp one of her thighs. He coaxed her leg upward, trying to reduce the space between their bodies even more. He suckled on her neck as he did this, causing Minerva to throw her head back. This position delighted her, but it was difficult to really get that closeness with long robes and no surface for her to sit on.
Heart pounding, Minerva pulled away from him and gasped, "Classroom."
Oliver grasped her hand, peered out into the hallway, and then darted out from their hiding place. They ran only a few strides before coming to a door they knew wasn't assigned to a class, and slipped in. Minerva grinned at the sight of the empty desks and pulled him over to the one at the front of the classroom, the biggest one in the room as it was meant for a professor. She hopped up onto it and looked up at him eagerly, her eyes sparkling with desire. He smirked down at her and leaned in slowly, tauntingly – Minerva yanked him down to close the distance. Their tongues found each other's again in an instant. Oliver hitched up Minerva's robes over her knees so he could more easily fit himself between her legs. Minerva pulled at the top of his robes longingly as they kissed, a very strong part of her eager to run her hands over his bare chest. Inexperience stopped her.
But it didn't stop Oliver. He had her pulled as tightly against him as he could as he lavished her neck, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and one hand cupping a breast. Minerva moaned softly as he licked and nipped at her exposed skin. Gasps hitched in her throat as he kissed lower – and lower – she gasped louder as she felt his tongue slide along her cleavage. The thumb of the hand gripping her breast started sliding back the neckline of her robes slightly to give him better access. Minerva's head was tilted back, and her eyes were wide as he buried his face in her cleavage. Her mind was exploding in a million different directions. She was enjoying this – she wanted this – but still, her instincts were screaming enough. Without fully cognizant of the action, Minerva's hand in Oliver's hair guided him back up to her neck. He didn't fight it; his thumb slid back safely over her clothing. She was grateful he didn't test her will.
Feeling empowered, Minerva pulled him, guiding him to sit on the desk beside her. He obeyed, looking dazed and happy, but slightly confused. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in surprise as Minerva swung one of her legs over him, straddling him. He stared up at her, completely enraptured, drunk with desire. She smirked, and, feeling inspired by their setting, murmured teasingly, "You've been a naughty boy, Mr. Brown. Out after hours, disrespecting a Prefect…"
He grinned, following her lead, "I hope you don't expect me to say I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall. That Prefect deserved it."
Minerva chuckled and kissed him again.
Professor McGonagall. That had a nice ring to it.
Saturday, 31 October 1942
After Slughorn's Halloween party, the traditional Halloween feast seemed childish. Minerva imagined it felt that way because the feast was something that had enthralled her in her first years at Hogwarts. The house-elves took advantage of the opportunity to make more desserts for the students than they usually did, and Minerva would happily stuff her face with as much dessert and as little real food as she possibly could. Now, eating too much sugar made her feel ill, never mind the fact that it would leave her in poor shape for Quidditch. Oliver seemed to have no such reservations, though. Minerva watched, half-amused, half-disgusted as he shoveled a sample of each dessert from the spread into his mouth. A half-eaten drumstick lay forgotten next to his plate. Donnie Longbottom was behaving much the same. Augusta and Minerva made eye contact across the table and rolled their eyes in shared consternation. Her friends' dietary choices aside, being surrounded by them, celebrating the holiday together, warmed her heart.
She looked around the Great Hall for her other friends. Minerva smiled as she caught Pomona mid-laughter: mouth wide open, head thrown back. She was surrounded by the other female Hufflepuff sixth years. Chaser Bethany McGeehan was leaning heavily against Pomona, her face red and crinkled with hysterical laughter. Further down the table, Minerva's brother Michael was grinning as he watched Beater Chester Milton stuff his face with pumpkin pie. As Minerva scanned the faces around Michael's, she noticed that all of the third-year Hufflepuff boys – and some of the girls – were watching Chester do this. He must be doing that for show somehow, perhaps to see how much he can eat or how quickly, she reasoned. Minerva then scanned the Ravenclaw table for Poppy, and found her with her elbows on the table, leaning forward with the expression of someone who was listening intently. The person she was listening to had her back to Minerva, but Minerva was quite sure it was Poppy's cousin Lillian. Minerva smirked as she noticed Nathan Pomfrey sitting next to Poppy, listening openly as well, clearly also part of their conversation. At the Slytherin table – Minerva jumped – Rolanda was staring right back at her. Rolanda laughed at Minerva's reaction and waved; Minerva, laughing now, waved back. Minerva looked around, and saw that Richard was also looking over at the Slytherin table. When she turned back to look at Rolanda, Rolanda's attention was – seemingly back – on Richard. She sat on the edge of the Slytherin Quidditch team; they were separating her from Abraxas Malfoy's gang. Much further down the table, Minerva's cousin Mason was raising his eyebrows as he took a bite of his drumstick. Minerva couldn't help but snort at his pointed expression; he looked so much like his mother. The person he was looking at had to be Rodger Roads, his best friend.
Minerva loved all of these people. She was also afraid for them. Over the past couple of years, she had grown desensitized to the atrocities happening across the European Wizarding World, but ever since her seventeenth birthday, the bad news that came with the owl post had begun to strike fear in her again. On her birthday, she had felt proud that she was now able to help should the need arise; she had been especially proud that her older brother gave her a wand holster worthy of an Auror. The very next day, though, she'd felt a kernel of fear that she hadn't felt in a long time when news of more death reached Hogwarts. Each day that kernel had grown, and now preoccupied her even when there wasn't bad news. She felt a responsibility to her friends and family. She felt paranoid that something bad was about to strike.
Sunday, 1 November 1942
Minerva opened her eyes. Her gaze landed on her wand, resting on her bedside table. It wasn't what had woken her up. Minerva blinked slowly, her sleepy brain taking longer than normal to process this abnormality. It clicked the same second as a voice whispered, "Minerva!"
The Gryffindor Prefect shot up in bed, her wand immediately in her hand. Her eyes landed on a startled Eve York, the only seventh-year Prefect for Gryffindor now that Henry was Head Boy. Eve held up her hands and whispered frantically, "Whoa, hey! It's me!"
Heart still pounding, Minerva slowly lowered her wand. A thousand bad scenarios flew through her mind as she stared wildly at Eve. "What happened?"
Eve grimaced. Minerva's heart dropped to her stomach. The older girl replied quietly, "I don't know all the details. I just know a student's been hurt, and that it's serious enough to call an emergency Prefect meeting. Dumbledore is downstairs."
Minerva's eyes widened, and she threw the covers off her bed. She quickly pulled on a dressing gown and slipped her feet into boots, grateful for once that she had to wear socks to bed because of how cold her feet always got at night. She ran downstairs while Eve went to wake the fifth-year female Prefect. Dumbledore was waiting, looking grim. Next to him, the two male Prefects and the Head Boy waited silently, looking pale. Minerva noticed that Dumbledore was still wearing the robes he had worn during the day, and suddenly realized she had no idea what time it was. She glanced down at her wrist, where the watch she'd gotten for her seventeenth birthday rested; she hadn't taken it off since she'd put it on. It was 1:25 in the morning. Minerva lowered her wrist shakily. She was jittery with adrenaline and lack of sleep.
Soon after, the last two Prefects hurried downstairs together, dressing gowns flying behind them. Once their feet touched the carpet of the common room, Dumbledore turned sharply and led the way out the portrait hole without a word. Minerva exchanged worried glances with Eve as they fell into step together behind their Head of House. He led them down several flights of stairs, past the floor of the Prefect's lounge, all the way to the Entrance Hall. On their way they met Professor Merrythought and the Ravenclaw Prefects, who all looked similarly confused and grim. The sight of them worried Minerva even more. Clearly, this was an issue the professors felt would impact Hogwarts as a whole. Minerva fell into step beside Poppy, and the girls whispered to each other to determine if either knew any more than the other; they didn't. For a moment, Minerva thought they were going to the staffroom, but then the two professors made what would have been a wrong turn if that were the case. She then wondered if they were going to the library, as that was in this direction, but couldn't imagine why.
Finally, they rounded a corner and her eyes fell on a group of people gathered in the hall outside the library. The Hufflepuff and Slytherin Prefects were already there. The small crowd formed a semicircle facing the wall. Minerva was relatively certain that there was a trophy case there, but highly doubted they were all staring at that. All the Prefects wouldn't be called out of bed for simply damage or theft. Just as Minerva was starting to take the scene in, though, Dumbledore whirled around to face his Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws. Merrythought followed his lead, looking to him with her mouth set into a hard line. The Prefects teetered in place as they attempted to stop so abruptly. Poppy and Minerva glanced anxiously at each other, before looking back to Dumbledore for answers. Minerva watched as his expression softened slightly as he scanned their worried faces, and she realized just how stressed he must be feeling. She knew from the way the adults in her life had always handled discussing the war in front of her, her siblings, and her cousin that it was important to them to be able to shield young people from as much as they could. For the professors to be involving students, even though they were Prefects, the situation must be grave. The realization took her breath away.
"We are deeply sorry for pulling you from your beds. We felt that it was important for you all to see this, and for you to be prepared for any questions you may be asked tomorrow. We will be making an announcement about tonight's events at breakfast tomorrow, and it will be up to you all to maintain a sense of calm in your houses," he paused and exchanged a look with Merrythought. The professors grimaced at each other. "I warn you that what you are about to see may be distressing for some of you."
Minerva felt like her heart could've stopped at that sentence. Poppy gripped her hand tightly, seeking comfort. Minerva attempted to smile reassuringly at her, but it came out more like a grimace.
Dumbledore and Merrythought turned and approached the assembled students and staff less urgently, now. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Prefects followed hesitantly. As they neared, Minerva realized that there was writing on the wall that everyone was facing. It read:
The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.
She blinked at the statement and read it again. She hadn't a clue what it meant. She glanced over at Poppy and saw that her Ravenclaw friend was gaping at the words. She opened her mouth to ask if Poppy knew what any of it meant but was cut off by Eve's gasp beside her. Minerva and Poppy both snapped their heads in Eve's direction. Eve was staring, wide eyed, with her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were directed downwards, though, rather than up on the wall. Minerva turned sharply to follow her gaze, and then covered her mouth with her hands as well.
A first-year boy lay frozen on the floor beneath the words.