Chapter Three
Minerva literally fell down on the couch, that evening. All the vitality of that noon had through a very tiring, very frustrating afternoon slowly leaked away- until only a feeling of immense weariness remained. With a short, stifled yawn, she started to take off the long, dark green cloak she had been wearing- and took a very deep, much needed breath.
Dolores would drive her to a nervous breakdown one time. She surely would.
Oh dammit- she would.
Her insinuations about Hagrid had continued during the afternoon- Minerva had tried to avoid her as she always did, but after all, what could she do? Dolores was a member of the staff and thus could enter the Teachers' Lounge- Minerva's favourite spot during free hours.
Oh how she'd sat there- the false smile fixed on her face, playing with her hair as if she was a teenage girl- let alone the occasional giggle accompanying her words. Even Minerva's sternest glare- the one that would probably have been able to give Slytherin 7th years an instant heart attack- could not stop the Headmistress's never-ending torrent of words.
At first, Minerva had wondered why Dolores told her all this. After all- and especially after the already legendary Career Advice of Harry Potter- they were, to say the least, not the best of friends. So why did Dolores take pains in telling her exactly what she was up to? Her, of all persons?
But as soon as her green eyes, quickly glancing up from the essays she'd been grading, had looked up into the bulging, blue ones of her "employer" at an unexpected moment, she had known why Dolores did this. Not to warn her, not to in any way discuss it with her, but simply -oldest thing in the world!- to pester her. Especially when the Headmistress's high-pitched, girly voice had echoed in her ear
"But of course I won't fire him right away… I am still considering…"
Because through all childishness and ridicule in her voice had shone her true nature- proved in the most malicious gloating Minerva had ever witnessed.
Dolores would fire Hagrid- but no-one except her was to know when, how or where. That was the heart of the matter. She could then perhaps not torture Minerva the way she could torture her students- but mental torture was, after all, not bad either…
Minerva sighed as she lay down her quill immediately after picking it up. No- she could not start correcting now- she could not possibly do that to the poor 4th years. She was usually strict, but now, she felt as if she'd start crying and yelling at the first mistake she spotted.
She hadn't cried in ages- well, not since Albus' departure…- and she certainly didn't feel like it now. With a short, irritated shrug of her shoulders, she sat down again and took out of her upper shelf an old issue of "Transfiguration Today"- the magazine which she often used while preparing her classes and for which she had ever written an occasional article. Perhaps a good read could calm her raging nerves down…
= = = = = = = = = =
But when she, according to her watch around half past ten, opened her eyes again and found herself resting with one cheek on her magazine, hair half sprawled out over "Transfiguration in Ancient Egypt- Worshipping the Cat", she could not have been more ashamed. She felt a fiery blush creep across her already flustered cheeks, and almost reprimanded herself out loud for doing such a totally out of character thing. She had never truly needed more than 5 hours of sleep a night, and now, she'd all of a sudden fallen asleep, sitting at her desk at bloody half past six, and slept for four full hours! Four!
The unusually long amount of time made her frown, but that frown was nothing compared to the look of horror that leapt across her face, as one name shot into her mind.
Poppy.
Oh, damn it- Poppy!
She almost jumped to her feet- totally ignoring the faint dizziness caused by the interrupted sleep- and, as quick as her feet could with any dignity carry her, literally ran towards the Hospital Wing. As she knocked on the door- it was immediately thrown open- she was panting and out of breath, her side aching with every much needed gulp of air she took.
The look in Madam Pomfrey's eyes was enough to make her lower her eyes in shame.
"Minerva- Catríona- McGonagall."
Poppy started to use her Gaelic middle name. This was worse than she thought.
"My dear, if I wasn't so sure that you are ill- I would hex you into next week."
Minerva didn't react, until the- slightly impatient- voice of her friend and colleague almost ripped her eardrums apart.
"Now are you coming in or aren't you?"
Minerva did came in, slightly shivering- and not only because of the cool, late evening breeze blowing through the half-opened window. Half turning towards her friend, she muttered
"I am sorry, Poppy. I forgot about the time."
It was not even a lie.
As the School Nurse rolled her eyes and pointed at an empty bed, separated from the others- not that there where any- by a large screen, Minerva knew she'd been "forgiven" and cast her friend a grateful glance for not asking more. Well- she'd never admit she had fallen asleep anyway, but still.
"It is alright, Minerva. Now-"
Poppy made an impatient gesture towards the bed.
"Lie down there, and let's see what we've got!"
Minerva obeyed, shifting uncomfortably on the clean, white sheets- then rolled her eyes behind her friend's back. Poppy was just fussing over nothing, of course, but she knew better than to irritate her friend now. With a theatrically patient look in her eyes, she allowed her head to lean back on the cushion- surprised at how well it felt. Well it did feel better than "Transfiguration in Ancient Egypt", naturally, but still…
As Poppy turned around, Minerva quickly adjusted on her face a look of decent patience, and the Mediwitch approvingly nodded, eyeing the transparent-looking liquid in the vial she was holding.
"Right…"
Then, addressing her friend on the bed, she explained
"Since, if I remember well, you're not particularly fond of muggle examining methods, I have prepared this for you."
At Minerva's blank facial expression, a faint smile played round the corners of the nurse's mouth.
"But since you have never been a Healing Magic genius, I suppose I'll have to explain. This is a Gniadosis-potion, Minerva. I'll need one hair of you- one still-very-black-and-not-at-all-grey hair, might I add…"
A somewhat jealous glance slid from the still very black, thick hair on Minerva's head towards the short, greyish-blonde braid that fell down the Mediwitch's left shoulder.
"Anyway, I'll add that hair to my potion here, then it'll take a certain colour and I'll know immediately what is wrong with you."
Minerva sighed.
"Poppy, there is nothing wrong with… hey!"
"We will see…" her colleague sceptically commented, triumphantly holding a long, curly black hair between her somewhat chubby fingers.
"Here we go… it takes about ten minutes."
Minerva sighed and rolled her eyes once more.
"And wherefore, pray tell me, Madam Pomfrey, did I need to lie down then?"
Poppy Pomfrey shrugged her shoulders and then, a slight chuckle softened her usually so stern appearance.
"For nothing, Minerva, but you did look tired."
Minerva smiled and nodded.
"Well- anyway…"
She was about to gratefully snuggle her head into the cushion again- until a strange noise reached her sharp, feline ears and she did not know why, but she immediately jumped to her feet. Perhaps it was that same, feline instinct, that wanted to warn her against upcoming danger. Unfortunately, it was exactly that very warning that made her do what she did…
She walked over to the window and stuck her head out of it. Oh- no…
"Reasonable be damned…" echoed the voice of a man she knew very well over Hogwarts's grounds.
Oh- no…
Hagrid.
And all of a sudden, as she noticed the dark silhouette of the half-giant against the late evening sky, it was as if Albus himself called for her. And she ran, pushing aside Poppy and everything else, ignoring the pain in her side.
Poppy, too surprised to really do something, did not follow her.
Until, perhaps thirty seconds later, the full vial on her desk made a tinkling noise. She looked up- and never grew the Mediwitch's large, blue eyes bigger than on that very moment.
A strange, light pink light coming undoubtedly from the liquor in the bottle, made her dark, wooden desk light up in a soft, beautiful glow.
But her cool, rational brain very rapidly returned from the world of fairytale happiness the light spread.
She knew every second counted now.
And Poppy Pomfrey ran- she ran as quickly as her short legs could carry her. She ran for her friend- and yet for something more.
But she would arrive too late.
Because already, before poor, slow Poppy had even reached Hogwarts' ground floor, the students atop of the Astronomy Tower saw the large doors of their school being thrown open.
"How dare you? How dare you?"
Minerva's voice echoed across the lawns, as she- forgetting all dizziness, forgetting all sickness and weakness, forgetting even her "disease" and the Mediwitch she'd left behind- ran towards the four- five- persons standing before the small house of Hogwarts' groundskeeper.
"Leave him alone!" she shrieked, putting her hands on her hips so as to stop the pain- she wasn't twenty anymore, after all…
"Alone I say! On what grounds are you attacking him?"
All fury, all hatred, all despair and pain ringed clearer than ever through her voice.
"He has done nothing- nothing to warrant such-"
This was the moment when Poppy had finally reached the already opened door. It was irony, sheer irony of fate- that she arrived just a single second too late.
Her scream mingled with those of the Gryffindor girls on the tower as the dark shadows in front of the hut sent not less than four- four!- Stunners towards her still running friend.
She saw Minerva- poor, foolish, brave Minerva- fall, as if in slow motion, on her back. The tall, black-haired woman glowed a ghostly kind of deep red, then everything became dark again.
Sprawled out on the dark green lay Minerva McGonagall, eyes still opened in a furious glare.
But an empty one.
And it was only when, minutes later, the red radiance had faded entirely from her friend's unnaturally pale face, that Poppy Pomfrey found her voice again. Only one word did she utter- scream- cry…
One word, in which lay hidden all her despair, all her worry, all her pain. All her hatred towards the people who perhaps had- without even having the faintest notion- destroyed the one and perchance only true bit of happiness the two bravest people of the wizarding world still had left…
One word held everything.
"Minerva!"
Minerva literally fell down on the couch, that evening. All the vitality of that noon had through a very tiring, very frustrating afternoon slowly leaked away- until only a feeling of immense weariness remained. With a short, stifled yawn, she started to take off the long, dark green cloak she had been wearing- and took a very deep, much needed breath.
Dolores would drive her to a nervous breakdown one time. She surely would.
Oh dammit- she would.
Her insinuations about Hagrid had continued during the afternoon- Minerva had tried to avoid her as she always did, but after all, what could she do? Dolores was a member of the staff and thus could enter the Teachers' Lounge- Minerva's favourite spot during free hours.
Oh how she'd sat there- the false smile fixed on her face, playing with her hair as if she was a teenage girl- let alone the occasional giggle accompanying her words. Even Minerva's sternest glare- the one that would probably have been able to give Slytherin 7th years an instant heart attack- could not stop the Headmistress's never-ending torrent of words.
At first, Minerva had wondered why Dolores told her all this. After all- and especially after the already legendary Career Advice of Harry Potter- they were, to say the least, not the best of friends. So why did Dolores take pains in telling her exactly what she was up to? Her, of all persons?
But as soon as her green eyes, quickly glancing up from the essays she'd been grading, had looked up into the bulging, blue ones of her "employer" at an unexpected moment, she had known why Dolores did this. Not to warn her, not to in any way discuss it with her, but simply -oldest thing in the world!- to pester her. Especially when the Headmistress's high-pitched, girly voice had echoed in her ear
"But of course I won't fire him right away… I am still considering…"
Because through all childishness and ridicule in her voice had shone her true nature- proved in the most malicious gloating Minerva had ever witnessed.
Dolores would fire Hagrid- but no-one except her was to know when, how or where. That was the heart of the matter. She could then perhaps not torture Minerva the way she could torture her students- but mental torture was, after all, not bad either…
Minerva sighed as she lay down her quill immediately after picking it up. No- she could not start correcting now- she could not possibly do that to the poor 4th years. She was usually strict, but now, she felt as if she'd start crying and yelling at the first mistake she spotted.
She hadn't cried in ages- well, not since Albus' departure…- and she certainly didn't feel like it now. With a short, irritated shrug of her shoulders, she sat down again and took out of her upper shelf an old issue of "Transfiguration Today"- the magazine which she often used while preparing her classes and for which she had ever written an occasional article. Perhaps a good read could calm her raging nerves down…
= = = = = = = = = =
But when she, according to her watch around half past ten, opened her eyes again and found herself resting with one cheek on her magazine, hair half sprawled out over "Transfiguration in Ancient Egypt- Worshipping the Cat", she could not have been more ashamed. She felt a fiery blush creep across her already flustered cheeks, and almost reprimanded herself out loud for doing such a totally out of character thing. She had never truly needed more than 5 hours of sleep a night, and now, she'd all of a sudden fallen asleep, sitting at her desk at bloody half past six, and slept for four full hours! Four!
The unusually long amount of time made her frown, but that frown was nothing compared to the look of horror that leapt across her face, as one name shot into her mind.
Poppy.
Oh, damn it- Poppy!
She almost jumped to her feet- totally ignoring the faint dizziness caused by the interrupted sleep- and, as quick as her feet could with any dignity carry her, literally ran towards the Hospital Wing. As she knocked on the door- it was immediately thrown open- she was panting and out of breath, her side aching with every much needed gulp of air she took.
The look in Madam Pomfrey's eyes was enough to make her lower her eyes in shame.
"Minerva- Catríona- McGonagall."
Poppy started to use her Gaelic middle name. This was worse than she thought.
"My dear, if I wasn't so sure that you are ill- I would hex you into next week."
Minerva didn't react, until the- slightly impatient- voice of her friend and colleague almost ripped her eardrums apart.
"Now are you coming in or aren't you?"
Minerva did came in, slightly shivering- and not only because of the cool, late evening breeze blowing through the half-opened window. Half turning towards her friend, she muttered
"I am sorry, Poppy. I forgot about the time."
It was not even a lie.
As the School Nurse rolled her eyes and pointed at an empty bed, separated from the others- not that there where any- by a large screen, Minerva knew she'd been "forgiven" and cast her friend a grateful glance for not asking more. Well- she'd never admit she had fallen asleep anyway, but still.
"It is alright, Minerva. Now-"
Poppy made an impatient gesture towards the bed.
"Lie down there, and let's see what we've got!"
Minerva obeyed, shifting uncomfortably on the clean, white sheets- then rolled her eyes behind her friend's back. Poppy was just fussing over nothing, of course, but she knew better than to irritate her friend now. With a theatrically patient look in her eyes, she allowed her head to lean back on the cushion- surprised at how well it felt. Well it did feel better than "Transfiguration in Ancient Egypt", naturally, but still…
As Poppy turned around, Minerva quickly adjusted on her face a look of decent patience, and the Mediwitch approvingly nodded, eyeing the transparent-looking liquid in the vial she was holding.
"Right…"
Then, addressing her friend on the bed, she explained
"Since, if I remember well, you're not particularly fond of muggle examining methods, I have prepared this for you."
At Minerva's blank facial expression, a faint smile played round the corners of the nurse's mouth.
"But since you have never been a Healing Magic genius, I suppose I'll have to explain. This is a Gniadosis-potion, Minerva. I'll need one hair of you- one still-very-black-and-not-at-all-grey hair, might I add…"
A somewhat jealous glance slid from the still very black, thick hair on Minerva's head towards the short, greyish-blonde braid that fell down the Mediwitch's left shoulder.
"Anyway, I'll add that hair to my potion here, then it'll take a certain colour and I'll know immediately what is wrong with you."
Minerva sighed.
"Poppy, there is nothing wrong with… hey!"
"We will see…" her colleague sceptically commented, triumphantly holding a long, curly black hair between her somewhat chubby fingers.
"Here we go… it takes about ten minutes."
Minerva sighed and rolled her eyes once more.
"And wherefore, pray tell me, Madam Pomfrey, did I need to lie down then?"
Poppy Pomfrey shrugged her shoulders and then, a slight chuckle softened her usually so stern appearance.
"For nothing, Minerva, but you did look tired."
Minerva smiled and nodded.
"Well- anyway…"
She was about to gratefully snuggle her head into the cushion again- until a strange noise reached her sharp, feline ears and she did not know why, but she immediately jumped to her feet. Perhaps it was that same, feline instinct, that wanted to warn her against upcoming danger. Unfortunately, it was exactly that very warning that made her do what she did…
She walked over to the window and stuck her head out of it. Oh- no…
"Reasonable be damned…" echoed the voice of a man she knew very well over Hogwarts's grounds.
Oh- no…
Hagrid.
And all of a sudden, as she noticed the dark silhouette of the half-giant against the late evening sky, it was as if Albus himself called for her. And she ran, pushing aside Poppy and everything else, ignoring the pain in her side.
Poppy, too surprised to really do something, did not follow her.
Until, perhaps thirty seconds later, the full vial on her desk made a tinkling noise. She looked up- and never grew the Mediwitch's large, blue eyes bigger than on that very moment.
A strange, light pink light coming undoubtedly from the liquor in the bottle, made her dark, wooden desk light up in a soft, beautiful glow.
But her cool, rational brain very rapidly returned from the world of fairytale happiness the light spread.
She knew every second counted now.
And Poppy Pomfrey ran- she ran as quickly as her short legs could carry her. She ran for her friend- and yet for something more.
But she would arrive too late.
Because already, before poor, slow Poppy had even reached Hogwarts' ground floor, the students atop of the Astronomy Tower saw the large doors of their school being thrown open.
"How dare you? How dare you?"
Minerva's voice echoed across the lawns, as she- forgetting all dizziness, forgetting all sickness and weakness, forgetting even her "disease" and the Mediwitch she'd left behind- ran towards the four- five- persons standing before the small house of Hogwarts' groundskeeper.
"Leave him alone!" she shrieked, putting her hands on her hips so as to stop the pain- she wasn't twenty anymore, after all…
"Alone I say! On what grounds are you attacking him?"
All fury, all hatred, all despair and pain ringed clearer than ever through her voice.
"He has done nothing- nothing to warrant such-"
This was the moment when Poppy had finally reached the already opened door. It was irony, sheer irony of fate- that she arrived just a single second too late.
Her scream mingled with those of the Gryffindor girls on the tower as the dark shadows in front of the hut sent not less than four- four!- Stunners towards her still running friend.
She saw Minerva- poor, foolish, brave Minerva- fall, as if in slow motion, on her back. The tall, black-haired woman glowed a ghostly kind of deep red, then everything became dark again.
Sprawled out on the dark green lay Minerva McGonagall, eyes still opened in a furious glare.
But an empty one.
And it was only when, minutes later, the red radiance had faded entirely from her friend's unnaturally pale face, that Poppy Pomfrey found her voice again. Only one word did she utter- scream- cry…
One word, in which lay hidden all her despair, all her worry, all her pain. All her hatred towards the people who perhaps had- without even having the faintest notion- destroyed the one and perchance only true bit of happiness the two bravest people of the wizarding world still had left…
One word held everything.
"Minerva!"