A/N: This is the Seeker from Montrose Magpies writing for QLFC Round 7.

Prompt: Write about someone getting injured

Thanks to my team for looking through it!

Word Count: 1395

Disclaimer: I have no intention of making money from this story, so all the recognisable stuff belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Pain

Minerva closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, ignoring the tears that fell down her cheeks. She had been the best witch at Transfiguration that Hogwarts had seen for a long time—Albus Dumbledore had told her that himself—why couldn't she manage this?

Logically, Minerva knew she was being too hard on herself. Becoming an Animagus was no easy feat. She could count on one hand the number of registered Animagi, and though she was sure the actual number must be higher, she was a Transfiguration prodigy. She could do it. She had to.

Shoving away the thoughts that attempted to take over her mind back into their dark corner, Minerva closed her eyes and tried yet again. She had been working at it for hours and she still hadn't progressed any further than she had done under Dumbledore's guidance. All she'd managed to achieve was transfiguring her hand into a cat's paw.

She was reminded of Dumbledore's words: "self-transfiguration is a dangerous branch of magic, Minerva. Be patient and be calm and you will achieve your goals. As they say, slow and steady wins the race."

As much as he might have spoken true, Minerva needed to focus on something at this moment and practicing this seemingly impossible magic was the only way she could keep her thoughts from Dougal. More specifically, from the evening three days back, when she had left an envelope on his doorstep, containing the ring she had accepted the evening before along with a note on how she had changed her mind: that it would not work out. It had been the right decision, no matter how much pain it brought her.

She pushed Dougal out of her mind again and took in a few deep breaths. Detaching herself from the emotions and focusing on her form—a tabby cat—she concentrated on changing her left arm. Slowly, she felt her limb change form. She felt the fur spouting from under her skin and how her arm grew shorter, her hand turning into a paw. She could feel how she would be able to unsheath her claws on instinct and how lithe yet powerful the limb felt.

It never failed to awe her, how magic was able to give them a new form altogether. Once she was sure she could hold the transfiguration, she opened her eyes and gave the forelimb a look over, a semblance of a smile forming on her lips as she admired it.

Minerva pushed herself, spending hours at a time on practicing, and she steadily grew closer to achieving the complete form.

She finally managed it one morning, a couple weeks after her fallout with Dougal, and as Minerva stretched in her cat form on her bed, she felt happy for the first time in a long while.

She practiced switching back and forth a few times, just to ensure she actually had mastered her Animagi form, and then jumped down to the floor, intent on going out and having an adventure. It was an amusing thought.

It would be the first time she had left the house since she'd returned the ring to Dougal, having not felt up to it previously, but she was sure she would be fine leaving the house as a cat.

Once outside, Minerva took a moment to bask in the sun. She had an east-facing window and her room was bathed in the first rays of sunlight every morning. It was not, however, the same as being out and about in the open. She trotted around, pawing at the grass, sniffing things—her senses were so different as an animal—it was strange to view the world from a much lower perspective: barely a foot off the ground.

Almost unconsciously, she made her way towards the village marketplace. Once she realised where she was, she panicked for a moment before realising no one would see her as anything but a simple tabby cat.

The town was bustling, with villagers rushing from store to store completing errands, children shrieking with joy as they chased after each other up and down the narrow cobbled lanes. Market stalls lined the streets and a general air of delight about the town at the warm June day. She could smell so much: fish fresh from the sea that morning, warm loaves of bread lined up neatly at the bakers, and even the honeysuckle that crawled up the wall of the Mayor's Manor at the top of town.

She pawed at the fallen apple in front of the grocery store, making an utter mess but uncaring of it—that was what people expected of an animal, didn't they?—when her whiskers twitched as a strangely familiar scent hit her. Her ears perked up at the footsteps and Minerva turned her head only to spot Dougal coming in from the street beyond, heading in her direction.

Later, Minerva would berate herself for being so stupid and panicking, but at that moment all she could think of was how she did not wish for him to see her.

All she wished for was to get as far away from the man as possible, and so, the Animagus leaped onto the counter of the stall next to the grocery shop. She jumped down to the pavement, only for one of her paws to hit a sharp stone. A yowl of agony escaped her. She wasn't used to this form at all and Minerva cursed herself for being stupid enough to jump without looking.

She tried to stand, only for pain to lance up her leg. Her left front limb was most definitely broken. A pathetic mewl escaped her and the very man she had been trying to avoid heard it. He bent down and picked her up, murmuring 'Poor kitty!' as he did. Minerva froze, cursing her bad luck.

He touched the leg softly, only to earn another pained sound from her. "It is most definitely sprained, perhaps even fractured. C'mon, you poor baby, I'll take you home and fix it up. You'll be fine soon, wouldn't you?"

She looked at him properly now. His hair was a shaggy mess and it looked as if he hadn't shaved in days. There were huge bags under his eyes and a sadness to them—Minerva hated herself just a bit more for causing this kind, wonderful man this much pain. He looked a mess.

He stroked her back softly and Minerva could feel the calluses on his fingers. Her mind went back to how she used to love to trace them as she held his hand.

He stroked her again, and a part of her wanted to leap out of his arms, even though her leg would probably get even more injured. Another part of her was simply content to be back in the arms of the man she loved, even though she knew it was her who had broken his heart.

An hour later found her on the rug of the living room in the McGregor household, lapping from a warm bowl of milk, her leg bandaged. Dougal had noticed she had no collar and told her he would look after her until she healed. Minerva didn't want to think about what that might mean. Right now, she was just waiting for when he left her alone and then she could transform back into herself. With a broken leg, she couldn't escape as a cat, anyway.

She got her wish a few hours later when Dougal had to leave to help his mother with the lunch. He had sat her in his own bed a couple hours ago—Minerva didn't want to think much of that, either. When a few minutes had passed and she knew he wouldn't come back for a little while, she tried to transform…

…only for a sharp pain to go up her limb, a loud mewl escaping her. She couldn't revert back, Minerva realised. It would be too dangerous to force the transformation; she couldn't risk it. The only thing she could do was to wait until she healed. Her heart ached at the thought of staying with Dougal, even as a cat, and she wasn't sure how she could stand to see him so distraught when she knew she was the reason for his despair.

The next few weeks were going to be hell, but Minerva knew she deserved it.