Chapter Four

December 25th, 1944



The holidays were passing swiftly for the students at Hogwarts. Only a handful had been allowed to return to their homes, and these were mostly Slytherin upperclassmen whose parents lived in secluded manors in the North of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Of course, this only made the holidays happier for those who had to stay behind, especially the Gryffindors.

The castle was decorated with unsurpassing festiveness to take the students' minds off their exile. Hogwarts had never looked so wonderful. The staff had struggled to out do themselves each year since the war and the bombings had begun, especially Professor Flitwick, the middle-aged charms' professor, who decorated everything in sight with charmed lights and floating candles. There were Christmas trees by the dozen in the hallways and in the dormitories, and the scent of fresh pine and cedar pervaded the corridors.

As Minerva sat with her friends at the special feast that evening, she looked at her Christmas gifts and sighed softly. Her parents had sent her new robes and a pair of boots. Practical gifts, as always. The robes were a shameful Slytherin green. She wondered if her mother even remembered what house she had been sorted into. Her friends on the other hand had given her candy bought during their last trip to Hogsmeade, which was the better present by far.

Her friends had in return received Quidditch things from her: equipment for the players and fan gear for everyone else. Minerva had two passions: Quidditch and transfigurations. And most of her friends completely shared her interest in the first one. Vector was grinning as he rifled through his broom care kit and Weasley was tossing her new practice Quaffle in the air with an impish look, obviously waiting to use it to nail any Slytherin who ventured too close. It would be put to more practical uses during the team's next practice.

But the one thing Minerva had wanted for Christmas, she had yet to receive. She had wanted to see Albus Dumbledore again and remind him of his promise, but his chair at the head table was empty, as it had been at both breakfast and lunch time. He had yet to return from France.

Professor Krohn was seated at far end of the head table, choosing not to participate fully in the festivities, though she had heard that the single largest Christmas tree in the castle was in the Slytherin common room. He had rarely been seen outside the dungeons since the beginning of the holidays, which was more than a little unusual. The professor normally spent this time of year with the rest of the staff and students, impassively tolerating the feast and gift exchange and drinking eggnog with everyone else and occasionally doting upon some of his favorite students from his own house. This year was different. And Minerva McGonagall knew why.

Delivery owls were still swooping in and out of the hall, as they had been all day long, coming from the far reaches of Britain and from places more remote, but none winged their way to the blond professor sitting apart from his colleagues. Minerva realized that even during the war and even though they had supported Grindelwald where their brother had not, Krohn's family still remembered him during the holiday season. Just the year before she had seen him smile and hold aloft a magical cuckoo clock sent to him as a holiday gift. There would be no such presents this year, Minerva knew.

Then something surprising happened. Three dark gray owls swept into the Great Hall carrying three rather large packages. Minerva followed their descent and realized that they were flying toward the head table and Professor Krohn. The magnificent birds deposited their burdens before him and flew from the hall at full speed, their errand done.

Krohn could not hide the amazement on his face as he reached toward a tag that accompanied one of the beautifully wrapped gifts. He pushed his hair behind his ears to reveal a look of puzzlement and perhaps even confusion. Somewhere in the Great Hall, a few students were singing a rousing rendition of Deck the Halls, drowning out the sound that Krohn's chair made against the floor as he clambered to his feet almost eagerly. All the eyes at the head table were upon him as he began unwrapping the first of the gifts.

He tore away the paper and lifted the lid of the box. Minerva followed his eyes as he leaned over and peered inside. A look of horror and revulsion swept across his features as he stumbled backward, sending his chair to the floor with a crash. Even above the singing, his strangled cry could be heard as he swayed dizzily and turned a pale and sickly color. The professor put his hand over his mouth and fled the hall as students turned in their seats, craning their necks curiously to watch Professor Krohn run.

Minerva left her seat and watched him dash from the hall, glancing toward the head table where Dippet and Binns were coming to their feet with curious and worried expressions on their faces. She looked toward the doors of the Great Hall. No one had followed Krohn. None of his few remaining students seemed particularly concerned. Most had gone back to their gifts, their food, and their games of Exploding Snap. Agatha, who had joined her friends at the Gryffindor table, looked concerned as did Poppy, though they were also both looking up at her.

"Someone really ought to see about him ..." Minerva thought, shaking her head. "I suppose no one else has the nerve." she decided, leaving the table and making her way out of the Great Hall quickly and quietly.


When Minerva left the noisy chatter of the hall, she followed the sound of retreating footsteps, which were apparently heading toward the dungeons. She turned a corner and stopped short. Krohn was standing at a window mid way down the long corridor and gripping the sill with one hand and keeping the other over his mouth. His head was bowed, and she could see him shaking terribly. She was afraid that he was going to be sick.

"Professor, do you require any assistance?" she called, stepping toward him quite hesitantly.

His head jerked up, and he turned toward her. The blond hair clinging to his face was damp with tears. Minerva half expected him to go for his wand or to scream at her. She braced for either eventuality.

"No, Miss McGonagall, I do not. Please ... return to the Great Hall where you belong." he said in a high and thin voice that was nothing like his own. It was the voice of a man so frightened that he could hardly breathe.

"Are you certain, professor?" she questioned.

"I just need a moment." he said shakily.

Minerva nodded and turned to go, but as she did so, the professor's knees gave way and he crumpled to the floor with a barely suppressed cry of rage and despair. Minerva was at his side instantly, holding back his hair as he retched loudly and violently. His face was ghostly pale.

"Perhaps you should go see Madam Plummer, professor." Minerva suggested gently, recommending a visit to the hospital wing and trying not to sound as disgusted as she felt.

"I just need to get to my rooms. I have something I can take there for the nausea." said Krohn, struggling to his feet with some help from McGonagall. Something in his eyes just wasn't right.

"Please ..." Minerva began.

Then sound of several people approaching caused Minerva to fall silent. It was the headmaster and Professor Binns, both of whom looked dreadfully pale and anxious.

"Reynard! My God! Who would do such a thing?" questioned Dippet as elderly Professor Binns steering Minerva out of the headmaster's way.

"Grindelwald." said Krohn flatly, leaning against the wall as Dippet awkwardly tried to put a comforting arm around him.

"Did ... did you recognize them, Reynard?" Binns questioned.

Minerva furrowed her brow as she listened.

"They were Liesel's, my sister's. I recognized the ring on one of them." he choked. "I can guess what was in the other boxes." he said, putting his hand over his mouth again.

"In all my years ... I've never even conceived ... that someone would do such a thing ..." said Dippet, shaking his head sadly. He looked ill as well.

It required some moments for Minerva to understand what they were talking about. When realization hit her, it was like a blow to the stomach. She gasped aloud as nausea and revulsion swept over her. Grindelwald had sent Professor Krohn the hands of his three dead siblings, wrapped as Christmas gifts.

"Take Miss McGonagall back to the hall, would you, Binns? She has heard quite enough, I believe." said Dippet sternly.

Minerva looked at Professor Krohn. She could see his eyes, and they were still bleary and deeply haunted, though she could finally understand why. Binns caught her by the elbow and started to tug her rather feebly away.

"Professor ... I'm so sorry." she told Krohn.

The young potions' master nodded silently and closed his eyes.

"He's needs help and can't ask for it." Minerva thought as she walked with Professor Binns back toward the Great Hall and the feast.

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A/N: I hope that wasn't a total gross-out. There was a reason for it (establishing the evilness of Grindelwald and making the war less removed and faraway, more personal). I'm not big on gratuitous violence and stuff (or I try not to be).


MK: I'm an only child, so I have to use my imagination. Some people are born without the ability to look on the bright side (and are consequently almost always miserable to know. Thank you for reviewing!

Freelancer: Krohn becomes a little less Snape-like in later chapters, I think, but what can I say? Snape is the very model of a perfect potions' master (and my favorite character, even though I kind of know my professor of potions - long and weird story). I appreciate the encouragement regarding school. Good luck with your academic pursuits. Thank you very much for the reviews!