Chapter 8 – Helping Hands II
"The room that we crowded into was certainly not designed to accommodate large numbers and was already overly warm when we entered. It held the regular hospital style bed up against one wall sticking out into the middle of the room, unoccupied. Opposite it was a large fireplace, which was lit, and providing pretty much all the light. On either side of the grate was a high-backed chair in a neutral navy colour and between those a hearthrug. It was there that there was a pile of blankets shaped into something approximating a cat basket. The shivering form inside only opened its eyes a little to look at us as if even that effort was too much. It was clear to me at least that her condition had certainly not improved since we had last seen her. It was also clear that in the agitated state of mind that the cat certainly was in, that Professor McGonagall wasn't going to be taking rational steps towards returning to her to her human form anytime soon. When we were learning to transform she always maintained that it was the most important thing that we do everything we could to learn the process of returning ourselves to normal before we even thought about the initial change. She admitted to having never been stuck herself but from what I gather her training was somewhat different from ours – I guess that's the difference between those who have the natural ability and those who have to learn. In any case, being inside a body so entirely different from your own is more than a little confusing to begin with and Peter on the first few attempts had a habit of getting so wound up that he couldn't reverse the process. On the first occasion McGonagall sorted him out but the next she insisted we try. This time round, after Professor Dumbledore had sent Madame Pomfrey away, he cast the charm. We sat on the rug and I did everything I could to stay calm. I wasn't going to be any help to anyone otherwise but to start with she flinched back every time we went to touch her and without physical contact there was no-way we would succeed. Then Dumbledore joined us and slowly began to stroke her somewhat matted fur and she calmed a little. He whispered soothing words to her for a few minutes most of which I couldn't and didn't try to make out but after that he gave us a nod. Carefully I reached out and placed a hand on her back, Sirius did the same and we both closed our eyes. I don't know how to explain what it feels like when your mind is being shared be other people and you're sharing theirs and I don't think I'll try. It's not like I knew everything that was going on in Padfoot's mind or that he could see into all of my memories but I could certainly feel his presence. It took me a few seconds to realise that the Professor was there at all though. We both knew that we needed to get a fairly secure mental 'grip' on her before we walked her through the transformation and at that moment she was so withdrawn and hidden within herself that that just wasn't going to happen.
'Professor?' I asked. There was something skirting around the edge of our consciousnesses but there was no reply.
'Tabby?' This time it was Sirius and I could have hugged him when the name brought forward something far more discernable. 'Don't worry. We're here to help you.' He coaxed her forward. 'To help you change back.' If I had hugged him before then I would have slapped him then because it was impossible to miss the wave of fear that threatened to drown her. I took the initiative this time.
'Don't worry. We'll keep you safe. We won't let anybody hurt you and Pro…and Albus is waiting for you. He's worried. Can you hear him?' Luckily this seemed to do the trick I would have been at a loss as what to do otherwise. I'm not sure how much longer it took us to walk her back but when I opened my eyes again there were four of us on the rug in front of the fire.
"Poppy!" Dumbledore called as the three of us looked down at someone we barely recognised. Her clothes were ripped, to shreds in some places, and there were dark bruises flowering on her ivory skin in more places than there were not. But far more disturbing than that were her eyes. They were only open for a few seconds before they rolled back in her head as she lost consciousness but I honestly think they may haunt me for the rest of my life.
It's about eleven-thirty now and everyone's gone home that's going, I'm not sure who else is still around apart from us but I'm on my own at the moment so I'm not sure that I care. It's cold outside but there hasn't been any more snow and I'm sitting at the edge of the lake watching the giant squid turning lazy summersaults in the water. When Madame Promfrey appeared Padfoot and I silently excused ourselves and headed back to the tower. Lilly and Moony had retreated into the seventh year boys dorm I guess in an attempt to avoid the rest of the house as they ran around doing last minute packing before the train left at ten. If anyone noticed us creeping back in then they didn't comment on it, or our appearances, which can't have been on top form either. Unless I'm mistaken it was Dumbledore that had arranged for the hot sweet tea that was waiting for us, and it was exactly what we needed. There was food to but I don't think that any of us did more than pick at it, I know I certainly didn't have the stomach for it. I'm pretty sure I saw Hellios and Satine Malfoy on their way up the path a while ago. I guess that Dumbledore wants to tell them in person that he's about to kick their son's ass out of this place and make sure he ends up in some god-forsaken prison for the rest of his life. Part of me would love to be a fly on the wall during that conversation."
A/N: I know this isn't that long but I'll try to post again soon baring another bought of writers block (or guilt that I should be revising *smile*) But then again if no-on reviews I may not…. Thanks to all of you who have though, Linz