A/N: Thank you so much for all of your kind words. I hope you enjoy!
For the disclaimer, please see the prologue.
Chapter Sixteen: June 12, 1943
In her two years as Prefect, Minerva had never had such a horribly trying time. The school was in complete and utter chaos, and no one had any idea what was going on.
"How did your patrol go today, Aidan?" Minerva asked him as he finally found his way back home to the common room. "Anyone else tonight?"
"No one petrified, thank Merlin," Aidan shook his head. He sat down beside her and looked at his sleeping girlfriend, who was resting beside Minerva. "Char tried to stay up?"
"She wanted to make sure you got back okay," Minerva explained softly. "I can't blame her, what with everything that's been going on lately."
"I feel like every patrol we have is a bloody death sentence," Aidan grumbled. "I'm just waiting to get beheaded like freaking Nearly Headless Nick."
"Don't even joke about it," Minerva warned. "There are already eight students petrified in the Hospital Wing."
"You know, if I had known that mandrakes would turn out to be so damn useful, I would have felt more remorse about killing that one back in second year," Aidan sighed wistfully.
"I wish they'd catch whoever it is that's doing this," Minerva confessed, rubbing her eyes wearily. "I heard Slughorn talking to Carter. Apparently, they might have to close the school if this keeps going on."
Aidan's face was horrified. "Min, they can't close Hogwarts. What are we all supposed to do, learn from home? Basically quarantined for the next year? What about the muggle-borns?" His jaw slackened. "What about me? My parents are crazy pure-blood supremacists. I'll have to hang out with Katrina!"
"That does not sound appealing," Minerva pursed her lips. Her hand subconsciously travelled to her ribs. They had healed well, but they still pulled slightly when she made a sudden movement. Madam Prewett had said it would take a couple of months to get back to normal.
"Sorry, Min," Aidan winced. "I shouldn't have brought her up."
"It's fine," Minerva waved off his concern. "She's your family, as unfortunate as that is, and you being stuck there with her is a horrible future to look forward to."
"I'd rather be blooming petrified," Aidan muttered. "Speaking of which, how is Harriet?" Harriet had been petrified four days ago while in the library, which had scared their friend group even more.
"She's still petrified," Minerva uttered quietly. "She should be okay once the mandrakes are ready, but there's no way to know until then."
"She'll be okay," Aidan forced himself to smile. "She has to be."
"I hope so." Minerva hopped down from the bench. "I should make sure Charlotte gets to bed, and I've got to be up early in the morning. I'm on patrol all day tomorrow."
"You'll be okay?" Aidan asked, and she knew he wasn't talking about carrying Charlotte up the stairs.
"I'll be fine, Aidan." She placed one of Charlotte's arms around her neck and looped another around her waist. "You know me. I'm always fine."
The next morning had been emotionally trying, but not dangerous. Minerva hadn't stumbled upon anyone petrified, thank Merlin. Instead, she came across one too many crying first-years who were terrified to walk in the halls lest the "evil monster" get them.
"Theodora, I'm telling you, you'll be safe in your common room," Minerva told a first-year Hufflepuff. "Trust me, there's no way an evil monster is getting in here."
"But how can you know that?" Theodora wailed. "I don't want to go to the Hospital Wing!"
"I can't say I blame you there," Minerva muttered. Raising her voice, she said, "What if you went inside and played with your friends, hmm? You could make a fort, have a huge house-wide sleepover?"
"Do people do that here?" the Hufflepuff asked innocently, and Minerva felt her heart burst.
"Yes, they do," Minerva smiled kindly. "Now," she tucked a loose hair behind the girl's ear, "go and have fun, okay? Let me worry about the big old monster."
"Thanks, Minerva," Theodora beamed. She wrapped her arms around Minerva's waist fleetingly. "Please be safe."
"I will. Now go," Minerva nodded her head at the door. "I'll make sure you get in safely."
Theodora waved shyly and walked through the door into her common room. Minerva sighed and pinched her nose. She understood why the younger students were so skittish, but truth be told, it was emotionally draining to talk so many people off the ledge in one day. Heading around a corner, Minerva barely stopped herself from walking into a trio of running Ravenclaws.
"Be careful!" Minerva shouted after them as they ran off. "Five points from Ravenclaw!"
"Oh shove off," one girl scoffed, laughing.
"Leave it, Sam," her friend pulled her away. "Warren got what was coming to her, let's just go."
"Who has what coming to her?" Minerva yelled after them, shaking her head as they kept running. Eventually, Minerva found herself wandering up from the kitchens and up the stairs, arriving on the second floor. She managed to pull two Slytherins apart -no, she had informed them, potentially being petrified does not give you an excuse to undress each other in a closet- and was thoroughly ready for bed when a movement caught the corner of her eye.
Peering around the corner, Minerva looked to see Riddle, hand clutched around his diary, heading straight for what appeared to be the girls' bathroom.
"Good Lord, what is he doing?" Minerva muttered as she watched him covertly open and shut the door behind him. She knew it wasn't a good idea to approach him alone - not after the Hospital Wing fiasco - but she had a feeling he was up to no good. Minerva attempted to open the door, but found it warded. "What the hell? Riddle, are you in there?" She knocked her knuckles against the door.
"Min, why are you shouting after Riddle in the girls' toilets?" Minerva turned to see Michael's amused smile. "My interest has been piqued."
"He just went in there," Minerva threw her arms open exasperatedly, "and now I can't open the door."
"Maybe he's dealing with an upset student," Michael shrugged, "or maybe Riddle just likes hanging out in there, I don't know. Is it a popular women's lavatory?"
Minerva arched her eyebrow. "No more or less than the others, why?"
"I just thought that if it were quieter, he might be taking it as alone time, you know, brewing potions, studying, whatever," Michael explained. "Is your patrol over yet?"
"About five minutes left, thank Merlin," Minerva sighed. "Why, what's up?"
Michael's cheeks reddened, and Minerva's eyes narrowed slightly as she remembered her talk with Charlotte after she had returned from the Hospital Wing. "I was wondering if you'd fancy a cup of hot chocolate in the Great Hall."
"Hot chocolate? It's June," Minerva laughed, stopping herself when she realized she was embarrassing him. "Yeah, sure. I might have tea, though."
"Why, more seasonally appropriate?" Michael teased.
"No, I'm just not a big fan of sweets," Minerva admitted. "Come on, let's head there now. I can patrol on the way down."
"I will remember that you hate sweets," Michael promised. "For your birthday next year, there won't be a sweet in sight."
"How disappointing for Aidan," Minerva commented drily.
The twosome made their way to the Great Hall without any disturbance, something for which Minerva was very grateful. It occurred to her that this may be a sort of date, and it wouldn't make a good impression if she had to stop and yell at students on the way.
"This was a nice idea," Minerva said once they were seated, running her hands over her cup. "Thanks for thinking of it."
Michael's face lit up. "Thanks for coming with me. I thought it might be nice to get you away from Aidan, Charlotte and the others. They all talk a lot."
"Aidan more so than the others."
"I love that boy, but man, he doesn't shut up. Even in his dreams," Michael confessed, and Minerva laughed heartily at that.
"What? He doesn't stop even then?"
"No, I reckon he has a problem. Every time I mention it, he threatens to hex me to hell and back," Michael grinned. "So, there must be something there that's deeply rooted in his self-conscious." He paused, looking at her. "I don't really want to talk about Aidan, though."
"No? Whatever could you mean?" Minerva's voice had a teasing lilt to it that she hoped would mask her heart, which seemed to be beating more quickly than she wanted it to.
"Min, stop playing. I know you better than that. You must have some idea. Charlotte's been teasing me for weeks."
"I knew I should've hexed her mouth shut," Minerva grumbled, and Aidan raised a questioning eyebrow. She explained, "Charlotte is under the impression that you have feelings for me. Feelings that are more than platonic."
"Are you always this clinical?"
"I don't know how to be anything else," Minerva replied honestly. "I have always been the responsible one. The one who separates emotions from everything else."
"I can't say that that's not a bit odd, but I'll do my best to meet you on your level," Michael sat back comfortably. "Any chance you would be interested in an arrangement?"
Minerva bit back a smile. "What kind of arrangement would that be?"
"One of the romantic kind. We'd still have our friendship, obviously, but we might act more like Aidan and Charlotte, on occasion."
"I'd be lying to you if I told you that I was one hundred percent sure that I had feelings for you," Minerva started. Michael's face fell, and she quickly amended her statement. "I mean, I'm not sure, but I'm willing to see if I do."
"That's as good an answer as I could hope for, isn't it?" Michael grinned.
"Probably, yes," Minerva said truthfully. "Would it be weird of me to have...terms for this arrangement?"
"Knowing you, it would be weird if you didn't, Minerva," Michael chuckled. "What are they?"
"Well, I appreciate you asking, but it's almost summer," Minerva pointed out. "There's not really a point in starting anything now, is there? What if we wrote to each other over the summer, and then we see where things end up in the fall?"
"I think that would be great. And if there's nothing to it, well, you'll still be my friend and quidditch captain who will run me ragged."
"You can bet on that," Minerva laughed. "I need to make a comeback after last month."
"I am-" Michael began, but Dippet's voice interrupted him, sounding out across the room.
"All students are to make their way to their dormitories immediately. Prefects, please ensure that every student is accounted for. Professors and staff, please head to the staff room."
"What the hell was that about?" Michael wondered.
"Someone else has probably been petrified," Minerva breathed, standing up. "We've got to get back. If we see anyone else, we send them to their rooms."
"Of course," Michael said grimly, and they ran off to the common room, collecting students as they went.
"When do you think we'll be allowed back out?" Charlotte whispered. The entire house was gathered in the common room; everyone was too afraid to go into their dorms alone. They had been sequestered for about five hours, and no one had come along to tell them why. The mood in Gryffindor Tower was very, very tense.
Aidan pulled her in closer to him. "I don't know, but the Fat Lady is being a right git about it all."
"Mate, you tried to hex her out of her frame," Michael rolled his eyes. "Of course she's pissed at you."
"Do you think everyone in the Hospital Wing is alright?" Poppy frowned. "I'm worried about Harriet."
"I have to believe they're fine, Poppy," Minerva comforted her. "The Wing is the safest place for them. I doubt anything could harm them there."
"This is agonizing," Augusta whispered. "Are we even safe in here?"
"Probably not," Aidan snorted. They all looked at him with horrified glances, and he had the good grace to look sheepish. "Sorry, but I really don't know."
Suddenly, the Fat Lady's portrait swung open, and the whole of Gryffindor held their breath.
"Well, this is it," Aidan swallowed, "wands at the ready."
"We're done for, aren't we?" Charlotte moaned, burrowing her face in Aidan's robes.
"No one is done for, Miss Creevey," Albus exited the portrait, looking worse for wear. "Miss McGonagall, Mr. Scrimgeour, I trust every student is here and accounted for?"
"Yes, Professor," Minerva said softly.
"Alright, everyone gather around. I have some unfortunate news for you all. I want you all to know that Madam Prewett has prepared extra Calming Draughts should anyone need one." Albus waited until the students had shuffled around him, ignoring the panicked looks across the older students' faces. "As you all are undoubtedly aware, several students have been attacked over the last few weeks. Today, those attacks worsened. It is my sincere regret to have to inform you that a student has died."
Gasps and cries rang throughout the common room. Poppy started to cry, and Minerva felt Michael shudder beside her. Aidan turned ghostly pale, and Charlotte seemed to be in shock.
"Professor, it cannot be a Gryffindor, can it?" Minerva called out softly. "Everyone is here."
"No, not a Gryffindor, Miss McGonagall," Albus spared her a fleeting smile. "However, we will not be releasing the identity until the authorities have finished their investigation. I must warn you: if the person behind these attacks is not caught, Hogwarts will likely need to close imminently. We cannot run a school if our students are constantly facing mortal danger. I ask each of you to please notify me if you have any thoughts or evidence, no matter how trivial it may seem. No one is to leave the common room tonight, except one of your prefects, and that's only in the event of an emergency. Understood?" There were brief mumblings of agreement.
"Sir," Michael rose his hand, "can we know where it happened? So that we can be cautious in future?"
"The girls' lavatory on the second floor. It will be closed until further notice," Albus told them.
Minerva shrunk against the couch. She had been near that room today, hadn't she? She felt Michael's arms wrap around her, and she relaxed into them, resting her head on his shoulder. Minerva was so busy blushing at Charlotte's pointed eyebrow that she missed Albus' furrowed brow at her actions.
"Right, then. Like I said, if you need a Calming Draught or someone to talk to, Madam Prewett will be available with a mental health team throughout the night. Mr. Scrimgeour and Miss McGonagall will know how to reach them." Albus stood up and headed to the entryway, pausing briefly. "I am very, very sorry for how things turned out."
He left, and Aidan moaned, "This is not what I was expecting."
"No one was expecting it, Aidan!" Minerva snapped. "How could you say that?"
Aidan opened his mouth but stopped when he saw Michael's hand squeeze Minerva's arm. He would typically take on Minerva, no matter how stupid of an idea that was, but he wouldn't wage war against both she and Michael. "I just...I'm sorry. I'm in shock."
"I was there today," Minerva muttered. "I was there. It could have been me."
"Good thing I stopped you trying to get in," Michael said, shaking his head. "I don't even want to imagine what would have happened if you had managed to break down the wards."
"What do you mean?" Minerva twisted around his arms to face him.
"You tried to get through the door," Michael frowned, "and then you couldn't open it. We started talking, and-"
"Oh my Merlin," Minerva gasped. "I was trying to get in! I have to go tell Professor Dumbledore!" She ran out of the room without a second thought.
"Hey Michael," Aidan asked thoughtfully after a pause, "are you aware that your girlfriend is completely mental?"
Outside, Minerva ran after Albus, furtively looking down hallways as she went. She could only be minutes behind him, but he had long legs, and the castle was huge. Risking quite the punishment, she Summoned Albus to her. It didn't work, though, and before she knew it, Minerva felt herself zooming through the air, smacking into him before falling to the floor.
"Did you attempt to Summon me, Minerva?" Albus asked, helping her to stand. "Normally I'd be amused, but these are dangerous times. Is there an emergency at the tower?"
"Albus, is it Riddle?" Minerva struggled to breathe, hands on her chest. "Is Riddle dead?"
"What? Why would you think it would be Mr. Riddle?" Albus frowned down at her.
Minerva sucked in some more air. "Because you said that the student died in the girls' bathroom on the second floor, and earlier today I saw him go in there. The door was locked, and I couldn't get in. An hour later the Headmaster sent us all back to our common rooms."
"Minerva, are you sure that you saw Mr. Riddle in that exact bathroom? Could you swear to it?" Albus asked seriously.
"Yes, yes, of course," Minerva stammered. "You can have my memory if you really need it. Has he died, then?"
Albus stared at her. "No, Minerva. No, the student was a Ravenclaw girl, Miss Myrtle Warren. After the Aurors have finished, we thought it would be best to tell her parents and housemates first, before letting the rest of the school know."
"I won't mention it, Albus," Minerva swore. Her eyes widened as she realized the implications of Riddle being in that bathroom, potentially the last person to see Myrtle Warren alive.
"Minerva, if there's one thing I know by now, it's that you're very good at keeping my secrets," Albus smiled weakly. "Please, go back to your common room. As you know, we still haven't caught the person behind these attacks, and I don't want to worry about you while I talk to Armando."
"Don't you want my memory, Albus?" Minerva inclined her head, offering.
"Not tonight. Everyone's grieving. This mystery will have to wait until tomorrow." Albus pointed his chin in the direction of Gryffindor tower. "The common room, Minerva."
And just like that, he turned on his heels and strode away, his long blue cloak billowing out behind him.
"Minerva, you're sure you want to do this? I wouldn't think any less of you if you weren't comfortable being around Mr. Riddle," Albus confirmed. The next afternoon, the two of them were heading to Dippet's office so they could offer up Minerva's memory as a potential clue.
"Albus, you said it would help," Minerva said simply. "Besides," she hesitated, "if I had gone to the headmaster last month like you told me, perhaps I could have prevented this whole thing."
"This isn't your fault, Minerva," Albus shook his head. "Don't take that upon yourself. I'll have you extract that memory, and then hopefully we can question Mr. Riddle as to what he may have been doing in the girl's lavatory."
"Do you honestly believe he did it?" Minerva's voice was barely audible. "Do you really think he killed her?"
"I believe he knows something the rest of us do not."
"That's not answering my question, Albus," Minerva frowned. "I hope he didn't have anything to do with it."
"As do I, but hope is normally what we hold onto when reality is too much to bear," Albus sighed, "and right now, the reality of what we're considering is very, very likely." He looked at her intently. "Especially considering what we know about his penchant for violence."
Minerva flushed as they reached the gargoyle statue guarding the headmaster's office. Albus gave the password, and they moved onto the stairs, revolving slowly upwards. The door was slightly ajar, and joyous voices were radiating through the crack.
"Why is he so bloody cheerful?" Minerva muttered, looking at Albus.
Albus arched an eyebrow in response to her comment, knocking quietly on the door. "Armando? Do you have a moment?"
He pushed the door open to reveal Dippet, the Minister for Magic, Leonard Spencer-Moon, and Tom Riddle himself.
"Albus! Why I've only just sent for you! Did your elf reach you already?" Dippet asked happily. "Oh, and you brought Miss McGonagall, good! Another person to celebrate with!"
"I came up here of my own accord, Armando," Albus spoke slowly, appraising the situation. "Miss McGonagall and I had something that we thought you should know."
"Whatever about, Albus? Come and have some brandy! The Minister brought some of his best. Oh, Miss McGonagall, you better have some too!" Dippet Summoned two more glasses and filled them. "Come on, join us!"
"We had some information to give you about last night's attack that may prove revelatory," Albus commented, "but if you're celebrating, am I to think that you've already solved the mystery?"
"Yes, in fact, we have!" Dippet exclaimed. "Mr. Riddle solved it!"
"Really." Albus wasn't asking a question.
"Oh, yes, he did! He discovered that it was Mr. Rubeus Hagrid and his Acromantula that were petrifying the students. Apparently, Mr. Hagrid was hiding it in-what did you call it, Mr. Riddle?" Dippet turned, his brandy sloshing over the side of the glass.
"The Chamber of Secrets, Professor," Riddle met Minerva's eyes. "He was hiding the spider in the Chamber of Secrets."
"Did you discover the entrance to this Chamber, Mr. Riddle?" Albus inquired. It was said almost softly, like a request, but Minerva could hear the brewing anger in his voice.
"No, sir, unfortunately not," Riddle hung his head shamefully. "I couldn't figure it out."
"I couldn't quite believe that this was the work of one of your Gryffindors, Albus," Dippet informed his deputy. "But alas, everyone can surprise you."
"Indeed, they can." Albus smoothed a hand over his cloak, refusing the drink Armando offered him. He offered it to Minerva, who passed on it as well. "Is this why you're here, Minister?"
"Well, of course. One of my Aurors is taking care of Mr. Hagrid as we speak," the Minister said.
Minerva's eyes widened in horror. "What will happen to him, Minister?"
"His wand will be broken, and he will be forbidden from doing magic again. Consequently, he will be expelled from Hogwarts." The Minister looked at her. "We couldn't exactly do nothing."
"Miss McGonagall, surely you can appreciate the seriousness of his crime," Dippet tutted. "A girl has died."
"Well, yes," Minerva sputtered, "but do we have any actual proof that Hagrid is responsible?"
"He was keeping a giant, malicious spider in the halls, Minerva," Riddle sneered, rolling his eyes. "What's left to prove?"
Minerva's arm started throbbing, and she pulled her robe down over her wrist. "All I mean, Riddle, is that we have something in the muggle justice system called innocent until proven guilty. Besides, even if the spider was his, there's no way Hagrid was telling it to go around killing people." She turned to Albus. "Professor, can Acromantulas even petrify people?"
Albus' eyes brightened. "Not unless there's a new type of species that I haven't heard of, no, they can't."
"So there's no way to know that Hagrid did it," Minerva said finally. "And you just broke his wand."
"The school was going to be closed, Miss McGonagall! What should we have done?" Dippet snapped.
"So you irrevocably punished a student because you couldn't keep the school safe?" Minerva was furious.
Albus squeezed her shoulder, a signal to calm down. "I do wish you would have spoken to me about this first, Armando."
"Albus, you know that without a responsible party, this entire school would have collapsed," Armando protested. "This is a very logical and reasonable solution."
"At least it would be, sir, if the suspected creature could actually petrify students." Minerva rolled her eyes.
"Acromantulas may not be able to petrify, Minerva, but they can kill," Riddle smirked. "Petrifications can be chalked up to anything, like errant magic."
"And how would you know Acromantulas can kill? Have you seen it happen? Been near the Forbidden Forest lately? Or perhaps a bathroom?" Minerva glared fiercely at him and was happy to see that he was shocked to know that she was aware of his whereabouts.
"I like you, Miss McGonagall," the Minister gave her an approving glance. "Any chance you'd want to join my Auror department? You're one hell of an interrogator."
"No, thank you, sir," Minerva replied coolly. "I prefer to mold minds, not punish them."
"I think we best be going, Miss McGonagall," Albus steered her towards the door. "Armando, I am happy to hear that you have the situation under control." He pushed Minerva into the entryway, closing the door firmly behind him.
"Under control? Are you mad?" Minerva hissed.
He pointed his wand at her arm, and she felt the pain dissipate. "Is that better?"
"Much," Minerva grimaced.
"Come with me, let's head back to the tower," Albus sighed, leading her down the steps.
"You don't believe it was Hagrid, do you?"
"No." Albus eyed her and exhaled heavily. "No, I don't think it was Mr. Hagrid. I think Armando made a terrible judgment call today, one borne of fear and a desire for a quick fix."
"Can't you help him with his wand, Albus? Give him some sort of magical outlet?" Minerva asked, hopefully. "Or can we keep him around Hogwarts? Make sure he's looked after? Surely the Minister will see reason in that. And if he does, so will the Headmaster."
"That's an excellent idea, Minerva," Albus said, and for the first time in weeks, he truly smiled. "I think I might be able to wrangle something together."
"Good." Minerva hesitated but decided to plow on. "Albus, does this mean that Riddle is even more dangerous than we had thought?"
"It means I'll be keeping a close eye on him," Albus replied decisively, "and I think it would be very, very wise if you kept far away from him. More so now than ever before."
"I'll stop going to the Slug Club events, if that's what you think is best," Minerva offered.
"I dare say those may stop," Albus said grimly, "because I think the Ministry is about to interfere at Hogwarts."
"What? Why?"
"I do have some secrets I have to keep from even you, Minerva," Albus frowned, "but I believe the Ministry will be more interested than ever in how Hogwarts conducts itself."
"What does that mean?"
"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," Albus stopped, arriving at the Fat Lady's portrait. "Have a good day, Minerva. Please don't go anywhere unattended. It's probably best if you keep to your dorms over the next couple of days before classes resume. I'll see you at the assembly on Thursday."
"See you then, Albus," Minerva nodded. She entered the common room, wanting Aidan, Michael and Charlotte to take her mind far away from Riddle and his bathroom.
A few days later, at the assembly, Minerva was horrified to discover that the Minister would be presenting Tom Riddle with a Special Award for Services to the School. Despite everyone's cheers for his bravery, Minerva met Albus' gaze and realized that they were the only two in the Great Hall who weren't smiling.