Chapter Two
As Minerva took her usual place at the Head Table, a faint fit of dizziness overtook her and made her almost fall down on her chair. Dolores Umbridge's toad-like smile turned towards her and slid off her face as Minerva answered it with a cold glare.
Turning away from the most horrible excuse for a Headmistress Hogwarts had ever known- and thus turning towards Poppy Pomfrey, she forced a faint smile on her lips. The school nurse ironically raised her eyebrows, though, and Minerva rolled her eyes, turning towards the food.
Her stomach made a protesting sound at the mere sight of the eggs-and-bacon, though, and she sighed. Ok, scratch "having breakfast" then.
But a quick glance at both her table neighbours told her she would have to eat. Poppy's fussing and Umbridge's sheer evilness basically had the same result… so with only the slightest blink of her eyelids, Minerva started buttering a small piece of toast. Lovely self-control.
If only that self-control applied to her stomach as well.
It took her every bit of will-power she had to actually nibble on the toast as if she liked it. Casting a supposed-to-be reassuring smile at the Mediwitch, Minerva's stomach turned. Okay. So the swallowing was the worst. Anyway.
After she'd managed to consume the toast with a minimum of hideous coughs, she turned towards her so-called boss and in a polite, yet icy voice asked her permission to leave the table.
"I've got some lessons to prepare for my 4th years."
As Dolores Umbridge granted her a rather curt nod, not even bothering about the usual, slimy smile, Minerva could, despite her nausea, hardly oppress a triumphant smile. The old toad obviously was too dumb to realize that her dearest Transfigurations colleague had the first hour off- since the 5th years were already doing their OWL's.
With a sigh and completely ignoring the rather curious stares she got from the students and the I-know-better glance of Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva walked back to her rooms. The irony of it all was, of course: as soon as she'd fallen down in her favourite chair, the sickness was over again and she felt as vital as ever. Murphy's la-aw…
With an irritated shrug of her shoulders, Minerva sighed and sat down at her desk, back perfectly erect as always. And now? She tapped her fingers in frustration against the dark, mahogany wood, then looked through the window. Her face softened as her eyes met the little, discrete building that was Hagrid's hut. Rubeus Hagrid….
She secretly thanked God that Dolores Umbridge had chosen Sybill Trelawney to fire, and not Hagrid… How fair and just she wanted to be- she could not deny that seeing Hagrid being fired would be ripping her heart apart. Hagrid was one of her and Albus's oldest friends- he was a true friend, a faithful friend and an immensely nice person on top of it. His strange affiliation with and liking for dangerous and everything-except-friendly creatures was unfortunate, but just a part of him, like his eyes, beard or nose. She and Albus had learnt to accept it long ago.
Albus…
As the name of her husband-since-years made her feel- again- the strange, deep missing that mostly only fell on her at night, she sighed and knew she had to avert her gaze from the window. With a brusque, impatient gesture, she grabbed her quill and started correcting some 3nd-year's essays. It was better than losing herself in melancholy anyway…
= = = = = = = = = =
As Minerva, at noon, fell down on her usual chair at the Head Table, she needed every inch of self-control she possessed in order not to immediately attack the richly-filled plates and dishes. Because that was the strange thing about her upcoming flu, stomach disease... whatever it was. At breakfast, she could hardly swallow a light piece of bread- but at lunch… At lunch she felt like consuming an elephant- literally. She'd found herself eating the strangest things- come think of it, perhaps that exactly was the cause of her stomach problems…
Looking down on the delicious-looking chicken pasty before her, Minerva closed her eyes and bit her lips. But as the smell reached her nose, she knew she couldn't resist it…
Not that she had to worry about her weight or things- oh, of course she didn't! Firstly, she thought all those diet things most witches were into totally ridiculous, and secondly; she had always been rather thin- even long years hadn't added much weight to her still slender frame. Yet, she had been feeling rather bloated, lately… But one mustn't worry too much, must one- and after all, she had got so many troubles already- she could at least try to enjoy her food.
Just as she was happily chewing on a particularly delicious roasted potato, her left ear suddenly caught a sound like- like a very irritating, very disgusting, very ugly fly would make.
"Hem, hem…"
Minerva's eyebrows rose higher than ever before. She rolled her eyes, yet had the decency of emptying her mouth before asking rather sharply
"Yes, Dolores?"
The broad smile her "superior" cast her made her feel almost as sick as she'd felt in the morning. The confidently whispering tone of voice even more so
"Minerva, dear, have you never wondered about the competency of certain teachers?"
The feeling of being called "dear" by Dolores Umbridge was completely overshadowed by Minerva's sudden reaction of disgust and… and fear. Her eyes- she could not help it- shot immediately towards the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, who was merrily chewing on what looked like a whole chicken…
The "Headmistress" grinned broadly and nodded.
"Yes, Minerva, I notice you have also been thinking about it…"
Minerva stared back at her colleague, the expression of repulsion in her emerald eyes as clear as possibly could be.
"No," she then said, clearly and yet sounding so weakly. She heard her voice reach a peak of worry as she uttered
"Not Hagrid!"
As Minerva took her usual place at the Head Table, a faint fit of dizziness overtook her and made her almost fall down on her chair. Dolores Umbridge's toad-like smile turned towards her and slid off her face as Minerva answered it with a cold glare.
Turning away from the most horrible excuse for a Headmistress Hogwarts had ever known- and thus turning towards Poppy Pomfrey, she forced a faint smile on her lips. The school nurse ironically raised her eyebrows, though, and Minerva rolled her eyes, turning towards the food.
Her stomach made a protesting sound at the mere sight of the eggs-and-bacon, though, and she sighed. Ok, scratch "having breakfast" then.
But a quick glance at both her table neighbours told her she would have to eat. Poppy's fussing and Umbridge's sheer evilness basically had the same result… so with only the slightest blink of her eyelids, Minerva started buttering a small piece of toast. Lovely self-control.
If only that self-control applied to her stomach as well.
It took her every bit of will-power she had to actually nibble on the toast as if she liked it. Casting a supposed-to-be reassuring smile at the Mediwitch, Minerva's stomach turned. Okay. So the swallowing was the worst. Anyway.
After she'd managed to consume the toast with a minimum of hideous coughs, she turned towards her so-called boss and in a polite, yet icy voice asked her permission to leave the table.
"I've got some lessons to prepare for my 4th years."
As Dolores Umbridge granted her a rather curt nod, not even bothering about the usual, slimy smile, Minerva could, despite her nausea, hardly oppress a triumphant smile. The old toad obviously was too dumb to realize that her dearest Transfigurations colleague had the first hour off- since the 5th years were already doing their OWL's.
With a sigh and completely ignoring the rather curious stares she got from the students and the I-know-better glance of Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva walked back to her rooms. The irony of it all was, of course: as soon as she'd fallen down in her favourite chair, the sickness was over again and she felt as vital as ever. Murphy's la-aw…
With an irritated shrug of her shoulders, Minerva sighed and sat down at her desk, back perfectly erect as always. And now? She tapped her fingers in frustration against the dark, mahogany wood, then looked through the window. Her face softened as her eyes met the little, discrete building that was Hagrid's hut. Rubeus Hagrid….
She secretly thanked God that Dolores Umbridge had chosen Sybill Trelawney to fire, and not Hagrid… How fair and just she wanted to be- she could not deny that seeing Hagrid being fired would be ripping her heart apart. Hagrid was one of her and Albus's oldest friends- he was a true friend, a faithful friend and an immensely nice person on top of it. His strange affiliation with and liking for dangerous and everything-except-friendly creatures was unfortunate, but just a part of him, like his eyes, beard or nose. She and Albus had learnt to accept it long ago.
Albus…
As the name of her husband-since-years made her feel- again- the strange, deep missing that mostly only fell on her at night, she sighed and knew she had to avert her gaze from the window. With a brusque, impatient gesture, she grabbed her quill and started correcting some 3nd-year's essays. It was better than losing herself in melancholy anyway…
= = = = = = = = = =
As Minerva, at noon, fell down on her usual chair at the Head Table, she needed every inch of self-control she possessed in order not to immediately attack the richly-filled plates and dishes. Because that was the strange thing about her upcoming flu, stomach disease... whatever it was. At breakfast, she could hardly swallow a light piece of bread- but at lunch… At lunch she felt like consuming an elephant- literally. She'd found herself eating the strangest things- come think of it, perhaps that exactly was the cause of her stomach problems…
Looking down on the delicious-looking chicken pasty before her, Minerva closed her eyes and bit her lips. But as the smell reached her nose, she knew she couldn't resist it…
Not that she had to worry about her weight or things- oh, of course she didn't! Firstly, she thought all those diet things most witches were into totally ridiculous, and secondly; she had always been rather thin- even long years hadn't added much weight to her still slender frame. Yet, she had been feeling rather bloated, lately… But one mustn't worry too much, must one- and after all, she had got so many troubles already- she could at least try to enjoy her food.
Just as she was happily chewing on a particularly delicious roasted potato, her left ear suddenly caught a sound like- like a very irritating, very disgusting, very ugly fly would make.
"Hem, hem…"
Minerva's eyebrows rose higher than ever before. She rolled her eyes, yet had the decency of emptying her mouth before asking rather sharply
"Yes, Dolores?"
The broad smile her "superior" cast her made her feel almost as sick as she'd felt in the morning. The confidently whispering tone of voice even more so
"Minerva, dear, have you never wondered about the competency of certain teachers?"
The feeling of being called "dear" by Dolores Umbridge was completely overshadowed by Minerva's sudden reaction of disgust and… and fear. Her eyes- she could not help it- shot immediately towards the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, who was merrily chewing on what looked like a whole chicken…
The "Headmistress" grinned broadly and nodded.
"Yes, Minerva, I notice you have also been thinking about it…"
Minerva stared back at her colleague, the expression of repulsion in her emerald eyes as clear as possibly could be.
"No," she then said, clearly and yet sounding so weakly. She heard her voice reach a peak of worry as she uttered
"Not Hagrid!"