Disclaimer: All the usual "yakety-yak" – I don't own any of these characters (except the ones I made up). Everything else (the Potter-verse, Hogwarts, etc.) belong the greatly talented J.K. Rowling. This is simply my way of expressing some of my ideas about the past of Hogwarts – and a chance to "play with her toys" as it were. ^.^
Rated: PG-13 for right now (the usual – swearing, adult situations, some occasional violence, dark themes), but I may up the ante to R – haven't made my mind up yet, though. Just so you know.
Description: Have you ever wondered why McGonagall wears green robes? Or why it would seem that she never got married and had children of her own? Have you ever wondered who Grindelwald was and what he had to do with Dumbledore? Have you just simply wondered what Hogwarts was like in the days pre-dating even the Marauders? Well…then this is the story for you! McGonagall finally opens up and tells a devastated Order what happened in the early days of the Order – why it was founded and how it began.
Chapter Description: In which McGonagall has a Floo powder conversation with her best friend, Finnigan Foxfire. Finn warns her of dark times to come and Minerva realizes that her friend may be in grave danger. Preoccupied with the conversation, she talks about it with her boyfriend – Gaddis Whiteborn – the next morning at breakfast, only to discover that Finn's warning is true! And an up-and-coming Daily Prophet reporter risks his job to bring news of the Muggle world to the wizarding world, believing that everyone is affected by the events rapidly unraveling in Europe.
Author Notes: Nuthin' much…just please keep an open mind as you read. Please enjoy and REVIEW!! I can't possibly know what you do or don't like about this story, unless you tell me. (And plus, it's good for my morale. ^^)
"For the second time in our history, a British Prime Minister has returned from Germany bringing peace with honor. I believe it is peace for our time."
Neville Chamberlain, September 30th, 1938
August 31st, 1939
"Oi! Mini! How are ya'?" a cheerful red-head suddenly appeared in Minerva McGonagall's fire.
"Good evenin', Finn," Minerva glanced over her textbook and smiled warmly. "I was wondering when you'd show up."
"'Fraid I can't stay for long," Finn's smile faltered and he ran his fingers through his bangs.
"What's the matter?" Minerva put her book aside and kneeled on the floor, leaning in as close as she dared to the hearth.
"The fireplace Floo connections are bein' monitored at all times," Finn shifted nervously, his green eyes dark and wary. "I'm usin' an abandoned Muggle fireplace, but I can't be sure those aren't bein' watched either."
"Who's watching the fireplace connections? Someone here – in Britain?" Minerva fretted, her brows knitting together in concern.
"No – on this side. In Germany," Finn glanced at her, his usually smiling face darkened with an uncharacteristic frown.
"What on earth are you doing in Germany?" Minerva sputtered. "I thought you were studying to be an Auror at Tuatha De Danaan."
"I am," Finn nodded shortly. "But…" he sighed deeply. "I came over here durin' the summer. I don't know if I'll be able to make it back in time for the start o' term, Mini."
"Wha…what do you mean?" Minerva gasped. "Why wouldn't you go back to Tuatha? You've always wanted to be an Auror, Finn!"
"I'm not sayin' I don't want to go back the university," Finn shook his head slowly. "It's just…I don't think I can – the borders are shut to Muggles an' wizards, Mini. Like I said, even the fireplace Floo connections are bein' watched," he paused, his eyes dark and haunted. "Things are aweful bad here, Mini. A lot worse than you folks back home are willin' to admit."
"What's wrong?" Minerva sat back on her heels, not breaking eye contact with her old school friend.
"Everythin'," Finn sighed deeply, glancing down. "Ole' O'Meallain wasn't exaggeratin' when she said Grindelwald was one to fear an' fight. Somethin' big is about to happen…I'm not sure what. We're 'bout to get a war, Mini."
"But…that's the Muggles' problem, isn't it?" Minerva fretted.
"That's what the Minister o' Magic would like ya' to believe – he's every bit as worse as the Muggle Prime Minister!" Finn snapped, but his anger wasn't directed toward Minerva. "Nigellus is one o' those purists who'd like nothin' more than be rid o' the entire Muggle population."
"Finn…" Minerva shook her head. "You shouldn't say such things."
"It's the truth," Finn replied sharply. "There's a war comin', Mini – an' Grindelwald isn't just targetin' Muggles. He means to wipe all o' us out!"
"How do you know this?" Minerva asked slowly, her eyes worried.
Finn paused, thinking carefully before speaking.
"I can't tell ya', Mini," he spoke softly. "But…ya're a clever witch. I'm sure ya' can figure it out, can't ya'."
For several seconds, neither spoke. Minerva turned Finn's words over carefully in her mind, her eyes narrowed in deep concentration. But then the answer dawned on her and her eyes widened in fear and shock.
"Finn -!" she gasped, covering her hand with her mouth.
"Don't say anythin', Mini," Finn put up a warning hand. "It's between ya' an' me."
"Your secret's safe," Minerva's eyes filled with tears.
"I know," Finn said quietly.
"Please…be careful, Finn," Minerva reached out with her hand, as if to touch Finn's face within the fire's flames.
"As careful as I can be," he sighed deeply and then tried to smile bravely. "But you know me, Mini – I'm as nimble as a fox an' twice as sly. It'll take lot to get this old body down."
"I'm not talking about your body," a tear slid down Minerva's cheek. "I'm more worried about your soul, Finnigan Foxfire."
"I've gotta' go now, Mini," Finn said after a long pause. "I've been here too long as it is."
"All right," Minerva whispered gently, the tears falling unchecked.
"Take care, Mini. I'll see ya' when this all through," Finn tried to smile, trying his best to cheer his friend up.
"I love you, Finn," Minerva clasped her hands together tightly. "Please take care of yourself."
Finn looked at her silently for several seconds and then disappeared from her sight without a word. Minerva covered her face in her hands and sobbed, fearing for her friend – fearing for the safety of his heart, his body, and his soul…
~ ~ ~
September 1st, 1939
"Good mornin', sunshine – why so glum?" a young wizard slipped into a chair across from Minerva as she sat at breakfast.
"Mornin', Gaddis," Minerva glanced up briefly before resuming her coffee watch.
"Aw…come on now, luv," Gaddis cocked his head and tried to look Minerva in the eye. "That's no way to greet a friend on a fine mornin' like this. What's the matter?"
"I talked to Finn last night," Minerva said slowly, stirring her coffee idly with a spoon.
"Finn'?" Gaddis repeated the name, as if trying to remember it. "You mean Finnigan Foxfire – the Slytherin boy you were best friends with at Hogwarts?"
"Yes," Minerva replied softly.
"Last I heard of him, he got accepted into Tuatha De Danaan University," Gaddis picked up a knife and began buttering a scone. "You talked to him – how?" the Muggle-born wizard puzzled for a minute, clearly wondering how and why a pure-blood Slytherin had called Minerva up on a phone.
"He used Floo powder," Minerva read Gaddis' mind and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Gaddis! You can be such a Muggle sometimes."
"Can you blame me?" Gaddis demanded cheerfully, biting into his scone. "I'm gettin' me degree in Muggle studies, after all – an' bloody damn!" he exclaimed, full mouth and all. "I live wi' Muggles."
"Though heaven only knows why," Minerva snorted contemptuously, glaring at her friend over her coffee mug. "And don't talk with your mouth full. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?"
"Never had a mum," Gaddis proclaimed with the same exuberance that he would have had for a Quidditch match.
"Oh…I'm sorry," Minerva blushed – she knew well what it was like to lose a mother.
"Life happens," Gaddis shrugged. "Ain't nothin' to be sorry 'bout."
The two fell silent for several minutes. Minerva sipped her coffee and looked everywhere around the café except at her boyfriend, Gaddis Whiteborn. She watched with a detached interest as a buxom witch bustled about the establishment, serving several young patrons coffee and steaming platters of breakfast.
The Broken Chant was a popular spot for the magical students of Britain's most prestigious school of higher learning – Morgan-Morgause University. The sprawling university campus was spread over several acres of Scotland's most desolate highland moor. The setting was rather bleak, but it bustled with the lively activity of hundreds of Britain's best and brightest Hogwarts graduates and the most brilliant professors to be found in the magical European community.
It was like returning home once again for Scottish-born Gaddis and Minerva. He had been born and raised to Muggle parents in the poorest community of Edinburgh – she had been raised to a half-mixed marriage of a Muggle mother and wizard father, in the wind-swept sea-town of Dundee.
"So…what did ole' Finn have to say?" Gaddis asked innocently, but Minerva's reaction to his question greatly astonished him.
She broke abruptly out of her reverie, turning her head so quickly that Gaddis marveled that she didn't suffer whiplash. Her grey eyes flashed dangerously for a second or two, her cheeks suddenly flushed with anger. But as quickly the fire kindled in her eyes, it disappeared, replaced by a look of cautious suspicion.
"Why do you want to know?" she asked vaguely.
"Just curious, that's all," Gaddis sat back in his chair, puzzled by Minerva's reaction. "I thought maybe he said somethin' that was causin' ya' to react like this."
"Like what?" the young witch demanded warily, trying to turn the course of conversation.
"All preoccupied an' gloomy," Gaddis refused to be turned down a rabbit trail. "Is…is there somethin' wrong, Mini?" he reached over and put his hand over hers. "Ya' know ya' can trust me."
"Yes…I know I can, Gaddis," Minerva's eyes filled, un-bidden, with tears. "Finn did tell me that's very unnerving. I'm afraid he's got himself caught up in somethin' that…well…somethin' bad," she sighed and set her mug down, covering her eyes with her free hand. "But I swore that I would keep the words he spoke between only the two of us. A friend's confidence, I guess you could say – I'm sorry, Gaddis."
"It's all right," Gaddis assured her quietly, patting her hand lovingly. "I won't make ya' break a promise to a friend – though I doubt I could get ya' do that anyway," his mouth quirked up into a sad smile.
"Is that the Daily Prophet?" Minerva tried to change the subject.
She dried her tears, put her hand over Gaddis' and tried to smile bravely. Her boyfriend looked at her carefully, then decided that she would okay after all.
"Yeah," he picked up the paper and handed it to her. "Usual, boring headlines. Nigellus just got back from a conference wi' Himmler, the German Minister o' Magic. Stole lines off o' Chamberlain an' says there'll be 'peace in our times.'"
"Hmmm…" Minerva pursed her lips and glanced at Gaddis as she pulled the wizarding paper toward her. "Such cheerful news."
"You know journalists," Gaddis laughed shortly and rubbed the back of his neck. "A regular pack o' optimistic vultures."
"I'm sure Kai would not appreciate that stereotype!" Minerva chuckled.
"Eh?" Gaddis frowned, the name not familiar to him.
"A Hufflepuff I knew back at Hogwarts," Minerva explained briefly, opening the paper and laying on the table in front of her. "Kai MacCorrigai – you probably don't remember him. He was a year behind me, two years behind you. He graduated this past July…was always talking about how he was going to become a Daily Prophet reporter. He was from Dundee, too – lived two blocks down from me," she added absently as she sipped her coffee and focused on the bold, front-page headline.
Gaddis had just turned his attention back to his breakfast when the sound of breaking glass jolted him back to reality. He glanced sharply up at Minerva – only to find her face pale and frightened.
"Mini…?"
"The headlines, Gaddis," Minerva whispered faintly as she clutched her hands to her throat. "They're not about peace…"
She pushed the paper toward him. Gaddis mouthed the headlines' words in disbelief –
WAR IN OUR TIMES! GERMANY INVADES POLAND!
~ ~ ~
"SKEETER!" Brett Quinn, wizard editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, exploded from his office in a red-faced fury. "BEAU BRYANT SKEETER!" he roared again.
"Um…sir?" an older wizard stood up from his desk. "Skeeter just left."
"LEFT?" Brett thundered. "Do you know what that scoundrel has DONE, Chet?"
"'Fraid I don't," Chet Acevedo shook his head.
"What's he done this time?" a young witch looked up from her typewriter.
"Stay out of this, Augusta," Chet scolded her quietly.
"I'll get my nose into whatever I want," Augusta bristled. "This is my fiancé we're talkin' 'bout anyway, isn't it? I'd say I have a right to know what Beau's up to."
"No good, I'll wager," another young witch – Kerri Lenore – rolled her eyes.
"MacCorrigai!" Brett caught sight of a young wizard who's desk sat side-by-side with the reporter in question.
"Yes sir?" Kai looked up – he had been dictating notes to his Quick Notes Quill.
"As Mr. Skeeter's apprentice," Brett was breathing heavily as he stomped toward the newest member of the Daily Prophet, brandishing the tightly rolled newspaper. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about…" he paused dramatically and then slammed the paper down on Kai's desk, knocking over the young reporter's ink bottle. "THIS?"
Kai stared blankly at the blaring headlines.
"These aren't the ones we published last night," he observed stupidly.
"No, indeed!" Brett snarled. "They're now on page ten! Page ten!" he repeated murderously. "With the obituaries!"
Kai had to work to keep a straight face – Kerri hid a laugh behind a false cough. The corner of Brett's eye twitched nervously, but Kai only looked up and stared the furious editor calmly in the eye.
"I'm afraid I don't know what this is about. Mr. Skeeter didn't tell me that he was planning this."
"Damn you, MacCorrigai!" Brett growled. "Like bloody hell you didn't know Skeeter was up to his usual, outrageous tricks!"
"Now, just calm down, Brett," Chet started to walk over to the editor-in-chief, reaching out a comforting hand. "If the boy doesn't know, then he doesn't know."
"If you'd just mellow out for a minute," Augusta added, folding her arms over her chest. "You'd know Kai was telling the truth. That's very much like Beau – not telling people what he's planning."
"But…but…!" Brett sputter incoherently for a few minutes. "Kai has to know!"
"Has to know what?" the voice of reason spoke from the tiny office's front door.
Brett had opened his mouth to say something more, but he closed it with a click of teeth after hearing the voice. The editor whirled around, the blood rushing to his cheeks once again.
"Skeeter!" he howled, grabbing the Prophet and waving it in Beau's direction.
"Ahh…" Beau Skeeter caught sight of the paper and nodded knowingly. "You found the new copy of Prophet, I see."
"So you did do it?" Brett stopped abruptly in his predatory advance, the gleam of triumph in his eyes.
"Of course," Beau walked into the office and closed the door behind him. "What's wrong with it, Brett? Aren't we supposed to tell events – as they happen all around the world? We are the British wizard's eyes and ears after all, are we not?" the young reporter unbuttoned his cloak and hung it up next to Kerri's bright red cloak.
Brett paused in the face of this argument, but the editor wasn't flustered for long.
"How could you possibly know this?" he glanced down at the article, as if searching for something. "According to this, it happened early this morning!"
"All the more reason for it to be on the front page," Beau retorted smoothly. "As for how I found out – I am a wizard after all, Brett. And…I have my connections," the wizard-journalist wouldn't meet Brett's eyes as he spoke that last part, causing the editor to cock a cynical eyebrow.
"What kind of 'connection', Skeeter?"
"The kind that knew the instant Germany invaded Poland," Beau shoved his hands in his pockets and faced Brett defiantly.
"But what does this have to do with us?" Brett wouldn't admit defeat. "Why should we care if Muggles decide to wage war on each other?"
"Because," Beau sat down on the edge of a nearby desk. "If you'd read past the headline, Brett, you'd know that this war doesn't affect just Muggles. Grindelwald – known to the Muggles as 'Hitler' – is targeting anyone who stands in his way. And that includes both Muggles and wizards."
~ ~ ~
"You need to be more careful, Finn."
"I had to talk to her, Stalk. She's me best friend – I needed to see an old face in the middle o' all this madness," Finn leaned against the fireplace mantle and stared moodily into the fire.
"I don't think that was your smartest move," Stalk Blenheim shook his head slowly. "Mighty dangerous, what you did."
"And your talkin' to Beau Skeeter wasn't risky?" Finn retorted, raising an eyebrow.
Stalk leaned back in his chair and spread his hands open wide in defeat.
"Got me there, Finn," the older wizard sighed.
"I just wanna' get out o' here," Finn rested his head against the cool, rough bricks. "I have me studies at the University to pursue."
"That's not really why you want to go back home, is it?" Stalk asked quietly as he filled his pipe with fragrant tobacco leaves.
"No…" Finn shook his head slowly. "Though I do wanna' be an Auror. I…I'm afraid my absence may cause me to lose someone dear to me."
"Minerva?" Stalk frowned slightly, lighting his pipe and taking a contented first puff. "I thought you said the two of you were just friends."
"It's not her," Finn shook his head, turning away. "It's someone else…a younger student I met at Hogwarts. Her parents are tryin' to marry her off to some punk fresh outta' Durmstrang."
"A Nazi?" Stalk glanced up.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Finn moodily kicked the hearth.
"That's not all that's bothering you," Stalk puffed away at his pipe. "You've been really quiet ever since you talked to Minerva – and I'm not talking about the start of the war, either," Finn's middle-aged companion shook his pipe at the young man.
"You're right, Stalk," Finn admitted defeat. "I'm just…thinkin' 'bout somethin' Mini told me."
"Share to care?" Stalk started to rock slowly.
"No," Finn said shortly, turning away before the astute wizard could read his thoughts, reflected in his green eyes.
"I'm more worried about your soul, Finnigan Foxfire," Minerva's voice reverberated through Finn's mind.
There are times, Mini, when I wonder if I have a soul to lose, Finn thought as he slumped down on a nearby couch, keeping his eyes on the fire. I wonder if I'll ever be able to get out of this hell-hole. Will I ever be able to forget the horrors I've seen here? Should I forget them?
A/N: Gotta' love those cliff-hangers. *laughs evilly* And don't worry…the story should be picking up in the next chapter or so. I've been laying down the ground-work in this chapter and the last one. Bear with me – it'll all start making sense to you soon enough. ^.^
And I do believe I have some thanks to give to those of you who have been kind enough to review:
Jestana – thanks for reviewing! Your kind words really encouraged me. ^^
Teagal7 – I'm glad you liked what I've started to do with Minerva's background. And I'm glad you like Finn – personally, I think he's one of the better characters I've created. I'm very partial to him; I've always believed that not all Slytherins are bad (just look at Snape!) and I wanted to create a Slytherin character who did the right thing and wasn't an ass. Thanks for reviewing!
Punurple – glad you liked the Sorting Hat song. The Harry Potter Lexicon said that that song had been used before in times of great trouble and I thought it really set the tone for the whole story. Now…Minerva and Finn's friendship doesn't so much end as – well, I can't really say, since that would ruin the story. ^.- But suffice to say, they never stop being friends. Thanks for reviewing!
Shuffle Queen – thanks so much for reading and reviewing, my friend! I'm sorry that I never got around to finishing Ace of Spades, but Life came by and I couldn't pass the opportunity up. AOS sorta' fell to the wayside after I joined the Navy and after three different moves, I'm finally settled down in Japan, but I'm afraid I lost all of my files to AOS in one computer crash too many. Believe me, if that hadn't happened, I'd have reposted and started work again, but I don't really feel like starting again from scratch. I don't think I can duplicate what I did in the beginning, again. But thanks for reading this story and gracing it with a review. That really made my day! ^.^
And not that any of you care, but "Beau Skeeter" is based on a fellow journalist (I'm a broadcast journalist with AFN Pacific, for those of you who don't know). *laughs* Now, the last name is that of Rita Skeeter (Beau is her grandfather, according to this story!), but the brash personality, first name, and physical description is that of my very unusual co-worker. *grins* Beau's just such a great character in real life, that I figured I couldn't recreate someone of such interest. -_^ So here's to the real Beau – a pain in the ass to work with in real life, but an interesting person to know, nevertheless! He'll be the next "Stephen Spielberg", just wait and see…
And keep tuned for the next exciting installment of Tears of the Phoenix. And if you have any time (or interest) to do so, check out the companion story to this, Emerald Eyes, Silver Chalice. (Takes place during the Marauder era and focuses on Remus' background and story). 'Til next time – thanks for reading/reviewing!
~Rune