Huge hugs and muchas gracias to all who reviewed Chapter 1! Because my waaay long winter break continues, and since I have yet to find myself a job, here's a very lengthly update! Wohoo! Your thoughts and feelings are much appreciated! xoxo
To Minerva, there was nothing more beautiful than the sight
of the moorlands under a blanket of fresh Christmas snow. As she,
her brothers, and Professor Dumbledore continued up the lane out
of the village and climbed the hill beyond, softly falling flakes
glistened in the winter twilight. The road out of Hogsmeade narrowed
and then crested at the top of a craggy hill before forking off
in two directions. The road to the left led down the hill to Hogsmoor
- the large, stone manse that had been the McGonagall clan homestead
for thousands of years. To the right, the lane became more of
a path, a dark and narrow passage that led into the wild hillsides
overlooking the moors on one side and the forest on the other.
As darkness fell and the merry group reached the turnoff, Minerva
felt Tully move closer beside her. She glanced down at her younger
brother, whose brown eyes were trained fearfully on the lonely
pathway that continued up into the trees. She placed a reassuring
hand on his shoulder, and he cast her an overly bold smile, trying
to hide his nerves.
The others remained oblivious to the dark and ominous path branching
out behind them. Adian and Sloane were now loudly coaxing Professor
Dumbledore to tell them some tales from his own adventurous past.
"Is it true that you and Nicholas Flamel can live forever?"
Bowen asked eagerly.
"Of course he can, you twit! Everyone knows that!"
Adian interjected. Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.
"Mr. Flamel and I had the good fortune of uncovering the
secrets of the Philosopher's Stone quite a few years ago,"
Dumbledore answered gamely. "Not a moment too soon for Nicholas,
I'd wager - he was getting a bit long in the tooth. But
to answer your question, Bowen, it is true that my partner and
I possess the formula of the Elixir of Life. Whether I shall
put that knowledge to good use, however, remains open to debate."
"So you don't want to have eternal life?" Sloane demanded,
openly gaping. "Blimey, I'd give anything to know how to
never die!"
Minerva, who had been contentedly listening to the conversation
around her, gave a her brother a sharp look. Sloane could be very
blunt sometimes, and for a brief moment Minerva was afraid Dumbledore
might be offended by his questioning.
"A valid statement, Sloane," Dumbledore replied cheerfully,
his eyes twinkling faintly in the darkness. "I think you'll
discover as you grow older, however, that there's a bit more to
it all than the simple question of life versus death."
Adian gave a short laugh. "Sloane discovering the meaning
of life? I'll believe that when I see it!"
As the other boys fell to laughing, Sloane gave a whoop of protest
and fired several snowballs at his older brother. Before long,
the two were engrossed in an all-out battle, lagging behind to
pelt one another as the rest of the group continued down the road.
"Come along you two," Minerva called to them.
"Yes, hurry up - before we all freeze to death waiting for
you both to stop being idiots!" Malcolm added. He was carrying
his broomstick on one shoulder and Minerva's on the other, making
him look like a strange sort of roadside broom peddler. At his
words, Adian and Sloane gave up their fight and instead set a
barrage of bewitched snowballs after their oldest brother. The
others broke into wild laughter at the sight of Malcolm running
up the road with his arms full of brooms, a wall of snowballs
sailing behind him.
"Hurry Malcolm, they're gaining on you!" Tully cried
with delight. He and Bowen began chasing after Malcolm and the
snowballs as they disappeared around the bend just ahead.
"An impressive show, boys," Dumbledore laughed, "And
quite a good Banishing Charm, if I do say so!"
"Why doesn't he use his bloody broom?" Gregory chuckled
as Malcolm's furious shouts echoed through the snowy night.
"Or simply reverse the spell," Minerva added, shaking
her head with a grin. As the group came round the bend at last,
they found Malcolm had given up his escape completely and was
lying dramatically across the road while snowballs pelted his
head. Tully and Bowen were collapsed with laughter just beyond
the snowballs' reach.
"Save yourselves!" Malcolm cried mournfully. "Tell
Mother that I love her! And to the girl who could not carry her
own broomstick, her gallant brother shall take it with him to
his grave! Farewell!"
"Incendio!" Minerva said drolly, aiming her wand at
the snowballs above her brother's head. They melted instantly
with a slushy splash. Malcolm removed his hands from face and
broke into a pleasant grin.
"My hero!" he crowed to Minerva as he leapt to his
feet, brushing snow from the back of his cloak.
"It was the broomstick I was worried about," Minerva
replied dryly, retrieving it from the ground beside Malcolm's
feet.
"Unless my eyes are much mistaken, Hogmoor is in sight!"
Dumbledore declared, putting a quick end to further banter between
the twins. All eyes now studied the field ahead where the bright,
welcoming glow of Hogsmoor Manse shone warmly in the darkness.
"Last one home's a filthy squib!" Adian shouted, and
he, Sloane, Tully and Bowen took off towards the house. Minerva,
Malcolm and Gregory continued to crunch along beside Dumbledore,
listening to the wild shouts of the younger boys ahead.
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore sighed contentedly as they passed
between the two stone pillars which marked the beginning of the
Hogsmoor drive. "There's no place like home for the holidays!"
"I'm glad you're spending Christmas with us, Professor,"
Minerva said, her voice gentle and earnest. "It must get
rather lonely at Hogwarts when everyone's away for the holidays."
"Indeed it does, Miss McGonagall," Dumbledore replied,
"And I must say, I could not have asked for better company
to spend this holiday with!"
Minerva felt her cheeks grow pink. She'd adored Dumbledore ever
since she was a very small child, but lately she had become particularly
close with the Transfiguration professor. This year, she'd begun
taking private lessons with Dumbledore on the Animagus transformation.
Minerva had dreamed of becoming an Animagus ever since she was
a child, and now, thanks partly to her family ties with the professor
and partly to her effortlessly perfect Transfiguration marks,
Dumbledore had agreed to take her on as his protégé.
The smile he gave her now as they stomped up the walkway was the
same one he wore when she'd completed a particularly rigorous
training session. She could feel herself blushing once again,
but was quickly distracted when Tully came barreling out the front
door at them, his mouth already full of peppermint imps.
"We beat you! Hurry up and get in here, dinner's ready!"
"You wasted no time finding the sweets, eh, Tull?"
Gregory laughed, ruffling Tully's hair as they hurried into the
warm and welcoming front hall.
"They're here!" Bowen shouted as Gregory heaved the
heavy oak front door closed behind them. Minerva gave a little
sigh of pleasure. The Hogsmoor front hallway, with its blazing
candelabras and walls hung with ancient woven tapestries and the
McGonagall family crest, was brilliantly decorated for the holidays.
A towering evergreen covered with a dusting of unmelting snow
stood in the far corner. The banisters of the wide staircase were
wound with garlands of pine boughs and fairies, casting a lovely
twinkling glow. Minerva shrugged off her snowy cloak and hung
it neatly on the mahogany coat rack beside the door.
"There you are!" a jolly, lilting voice announced,
and Eleanor McGonagall bustled into the hallway from the dining
room. A rather solid woman, her face was round and warm, her dark
curls pulled back into a slightly tangled bun. She gave Gregory
- who was already rushing past her towards the kitchen - a hearty
kiss on the cheek before hurrying to greet Dumbledore.
"Oh, Albus, I'm so pleased you could join us! Come in, come
in, Cameron and the rest of the crowd are in the dining room,"
she embraced Dumbledore warmly, standing on tip-toe to peck his
cheek.
"Eleanor my dear, you're looking radiant as ever!"
Dumbledore declared. "I do hope we haven't held up the feast."
"Not at all," Eleanor replied firmly. "We've just
sat down, the roast is nearly done, and I'm relieved everyone
has arrived safe and sound!" Minerva could have sworn she
saw her mother's face pale slightly as she spoke these last words,
but dismissed it as a trick of the light.
"And my darlings!" she cried, turning suddenly to the
twins. "You both look positively frozen!" she hugged
them both at the same time.
"Happy Christmas, Mother! Did you miss us?" Malcolm
asked, bending slightly to kiss his mother's cheek. She laughed
and then clucked her tongue at him.
"Of course I've missed you! Malcolm - you're soaked to the
skin! Ariditas!" she exclaimed, waving her wand at
him. With a woosh, Malcolm's clothes and hair were instantly dry.
He grinned, running his hand through his now-strightened hair.
"And let me have a look at my dear girl," she went
on, holding Minerva at arms length and studying her with a tender
smile. "As lovely as ever! A wee bit thin though, Minerva
darling - Dumbledore hasn't been working you too hard now, has
he?"
Minerva laughed. "No, Mother! He's been very patient."
"Trust me, Mum, she still eats like a horse," Malcolm
said wryly, hurrying out of the hall before Minerva could hex
him.
The Hogsmoor dining room was lit with hundreds of candles floating
high above the table top. It was a long, cheerful room with great
stone fireplaces at either end and a most magnificent dining table
that sat dozens of guests quite comfortably. Minerva and Eleanor
found the rest of the McGonagall boys, along with Dumbledore,
already seated around the table.
"Ah, now here she is!" Cameron McGonagall beamed from
his seat at the head of the table. Minerva's father was a large,
imposing looking man with dark, bushy hair and laughing eyes.
Minerva hurried across the dining room and into her father's embrace.
"Happy Christmas, Father!" she said, burying her face
for a moment in the soft locks of tangled hair that fell about
his shoulders. While Cameron McGonagall might have looked a bit
like a wild man 'o the moors with his long hair and weathered
face, all who knew him knew he was a great academic, an amazingly
intelligent and truly powerful wizard. He and his brothers, Donsie,
Gowan, and Kennin, represented the latest generation of the McGonagall
Clan, an ancient family known throughout Britain for their land
wealth and powerful magic.
"How's my Min?" Cameron asked, hugging his daughter
tightly.
"Just fine," Minerva replied, kissing his scratchy,
beard-stubbled cheek.
"And how is she coming along, then, Albus? The truth now,
man!" he directed this question to Dumbledore, who was seated
on his left.
"Oh Father, don't ask him that! Not while I'm here!"
Minerva groaned, looking sheepishly from her father to Professor
Dumbledore. The rest of her family chuckled and murmured with
interest.
"Now, my dear Miss McGonagall," Dumbledore said, "you
have nothing to fear. Cameron, your daughter has inherited many
of your traits, particularly your keen determination."
There was a raucous call of agreement from the rest of the table,
and Minerva found herself blushing again. While her father gave
her a pleased little wink and her mother smiled with pride, Minerva
couldn't help feeling slightly let down. After the hours and hours
of study and physical training she'd put in, all Dumbledore had
to say was that she was determined! Surely anyone could do that!
In truth, Minerva was beginning to worry that she might never
become an Animagus, and the fear of failure pricked at her stomach
and tugged at her heart. The thing she dreaded more than anything
else in the world was the disappointment of her family. Taking
her seat at the table beside Malcolm and Sloane, Minerva hoped
she didn't look as down-trodden as she suddenly felt.
The dinner was a festive one, with plenty of excited chatter
and catching up amongst members of the family. Cameron spoke animatedly
about recent news from his brothers, who lived in the wilder parts
of Scotland's northern wilderness, prevailing over the many acres
of McGonagall land throughout the countryside. The boys were soon
sharing their own stories of the latest school adventures, and
Dumbledore kept them laughing with memorable tales of his own
days at Hogwarts. By the end of the 2nd course Minerva's worries
about her Animagus status were quite forgotten. When at last,
Eleanor carried the flaming pudding to the head of the table for
Cameron to serve, the McGonagall children were so full and contented
that their eyes were growing heavy and yawns were barely stifled.
"I don't think I'll ever eat again," Malcolm moaned,
patting his stomach as he reached for a second plate of pudding.
"Don't forget, we've got the Christmas Day dinner tomorrow,"
Gregory said, pushing the last of his dessert away. "We ought
to be saving room."
Minerva watched as Tully's eyes began to close and his head nodded
precariously close to the edge of the table.
"I think it's bedtime," Eleanor McGonagall said gently,
reaching over to rouse her youngest son. "Tully, darling,
you'd best be off to bed. Bowen, Sloane, Adian - you run along
upstairs now, too."
"But Mother!" Adian gave a cry of protest. "Why
should I be sent off to bed like a baby? I'm fourteen!"
"I'm not a baby!" Tully piped up sharply, forcing
his eyes open wide. "And I'm not tired yet, either!"
"Now boys, have you forgotten what day tomorrow is?"
Cameron interjected gravely. Tully looked suddenly stricken.
"Christmas! We've got to go to bed now," he
gasped, leaping from his seat. "The sooner we go to sleep,
the sooner it'll be morning!" and with a quick pause to kiss
his mother, he rushed from the dining room and up the wide, sweeping
staircase to bed. Bowen was quick to follow, and Sloane and Adian
said their own lingering goodnights before heading up after them.
"Shall we retire to the sitting room?" Eleanor asked,
setting her napkin beside her plate. "Twistle and Tyke can
take care of all this," she added, waving her wand absently
over the table. The dirty dishes and remains of the dinner disappeared
with a pop, and Minerva knew that they were now piled neatly in
the kitchen, where the two eager house-elves would take care of
the washing.
"An excellent idea - I could do with a nightcap. Albus?"
Cameron motioned cordially for Dumbledore to lead the way into
the next room. Minerva, Malcolm, and Gregory pushed back their
chairs and quickly followed.
In the comfortable, tartan themed sitting room, hosts of candles
blazed cheerily on the mantle and a splendidly decorated Christmas
tree stood in the corner by the front windows. Curled up on the
hearth before a crackling fire was Minerva's cat, Athena. She
immediately gathered the sleepy ball of black fur into her arms
before joining Malcolm on the settee near the fireplace.
"Have you missed me, 'Thena?" Minerva cooed, scratching
the cat behind her ears. Athena gave a low meow of approval and
stretched out in Minerva's lap, purring loudly.
"Just think," Malcolm said to the cat, stroking her
tail, "with any luck, Minerva will soon be joining in your
cat-napping, mouse-chasing exploits!"
"Oh, be quiet, Malcolm!" Minerva sighed, glowering
at her brother. He quickly raised his hands in the air, as if
calling for a truce.
"Only joking, sister-of-mine! You know I'm terribly proud
and wildly jealous of your Animagus brilliance."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," she said,
glancing fearfully over at Professor Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, however, was not paying attention to Minerva or Malcolm.
Seated in an overstuffed tartan armchair, a tumbler of whisky
in one hand, he and the elder McGonagalls were deep in conversation.
Gregory, who was sitting with his parents on the long sofa across
from Dumbledore's chair, seemed engrossed in the adult's discussion
as well.
"You've had no news from the Ministry, then," Dumbledore
was saying, taking a thoughtful sip from his glass. "I didn't
expect you would. Have your brothers heard anything?"
"Not recently," Cameron replied. "Though things
remain quiet in the north. Do you suppose the information you've
had might be false?"
"I wish it were," Dumbledore said. He looked rather
grave, not at all the jovial, fatherly professor Minerva knew.
She glanced at Malcolm and saw that he was now listening carefully,
too.
"The problem lies in whether or not the Ministry's informant
is trustworthy. I've had word from my own sources that directly
contradicts the Minister's reports. I fear that if I am correct,
the Ministry defense is being put off by a decoy. And the real
danger may be closer than we think."
Despite the warmth of the fire and the comforting glow of the
Christmas tree's candles, Minerva felt a shiver run through her
body. She'd been aware of the rumors about the Dark Wizard Grindelwald's
arrival in Britain, but she'd doubted the truth behind them. After
all, if there really was such a dangerous enemy on the
loose nearby, the news would surely be all over the Daily Prophet!
But if there was one thing Minerva knew for certain, it was that
Albus Dumbledore was very rarely ever wrong about anything. If
he believed that Grindelwald was alive and in England,
than it must be true. She absently tightened her grip on Athena,
but the cat gave a sudden yowl and scrambled from Minerva's arms.
Now Eleanor McGonagall glanced up at the clock and gave a delicate
little yawn.
"Dear me, it's rather late," she murmured. "You
three must be exhausted," here she looked pointedly from
Gregory to Minerva and Malcolm. Taking her mother's hint, Minerva
stood, pulling Malcolm to his feet along with her.
"Wait a minute -" Malcolm began to protest. Minerva
dug her nails into his arm, cautioning him against further comment.
"Ow! What - ? Oh. Oh! Right then - well, good night, all!
Pleasant dreams!" he started, moving none-to-innocently towards
the door. Minerva rolled her eyes in exasperation, but Dumbledore
gave a gentle chuckle.
"I was quite aware of my audience when I began this conversation,
Malcolm. And I trust that you three will keep what you have heard
to yourselves - and remain cautious."
"Of course we will," Malcolm said, becoming serious.
"Right, Greggie?"
"Yes sir," Gregory replied, rising from his seat on
the sofa.
"And of course we needn't worry about Minerva," Malcolm
added with a crooked grin. "She's more trustworthy than a
Gringotts goblin."
"Off to bed now," Eleanor McGonagall said quietly,
crossing the room to kiss her eldest children. "It'll soon
be Christmas morning, don't forget!"
"Goodnight, Mother," Minerva said, returning her mother's
hug. "Goodnight, Father, Professor Dumbledore." she
nodded to them both, suddenly feeling shy.
"Good night, children!" Cameron called. His voice sounded
overly cheerful.
"Happy Christmas," Dumbledore added with a smile and
a wink.
The three children hurried from the sitting room and up the stairs
to the second floor. The corridor was rather dim compared to the
sparkling lights of the decorations downstairs. Minerva paused
outside her bedroom door, and Malcolm and Gregory remained beside
her.
"Well, what do you suppose that means?" Malcolm
said softly. " 'Danger may be closer than we think' - you
don't think Grindelwald's followers are in Scotland, do you?"
"I don't know," Gregory mused. "Maybe Dumbledore
knows something about Grindelwald's plans that the Ministry isn't
on to yet. I'll bet he's going to ask Dad and the Clan for help."
"Oh, don't get on about that bloody 'Clan Magic' business,"
Malcolm groaned, rolling his eyes. "You'll be sounding like
Father, and we know how he gets when he's discussing the 'glorious
McGonagall past'."
"You shouldn't dismiss it, Malcolm," Gregory snapped.
"We'll be needing to know how to perform Clannauld Magick
someday."
Of all the McGonagall children, Gregory was the one truly interested
in the family legacy of Clannauld Magick, a complex channeling
of ancient magic founded by the earliest McGonagall ancestors.
When worked correctly, Clannauld Magick was extremely powerful,
but Minerva knew it was a difficult process that needed the participation
of each blood member of the Clan in order to be practiced correctly.
Her father and his brothers were widely known for their knowledge
of this ancient power, but the new generation of McGonagall kin
- made up almost entirely of Cameron's children -were in no real
rush to take on this tradition.
"Greggie, you may be right," Minerva mused, leaning
against the doorframe. "After all, it's a fairly obscure
practice. Perhaps Dumbledore thinks Clannauld Magick is a weapon
Grindelwald won't know about."
"You should work for the Ministry, oh Queen of Stratagems,"
Malcolm replied with a droll yawn. "But I've had enough of
this doom and gloom talk for one evening - I'm going to bed. It's
bloody Christmas in a few hours, as Tully would remind us!"
"Good night, then," Minerva said, pushing open her
bedroom door. "See you both in the morning."
"Sleep well, dear sister! Come, Gregory! To bed!" Malcolm
took Gregory by the arm and marched him towards the bedroom they
shared at the end of the hall. Minerva couldn't help but smile
at her brother's antics as she softly closed her door and prepared
for bed.
"Of course, Dumbledore wouldn't be taking a holiday if he
thought there was serious danger nearby," Minerva mused aloud.
"Mrow!" said Athena, who was now curled up at the foot
of the bed. Minerva laughed.
"Good night to you, too!" she said, and swiftly turned
out the light.
Note: Ariditas is a 'spell' invented by moi - its just the Latin for 'dryness', I believe.
More to come soon, I hope - in the meantime, feel free to review!