From Jupiter's Head Chapter 4, a harry potter fanfic

19 June 1943

Thorfinn threaded his way through the crowd of eager parents on Platform 9¾, heading towards his son. Einar was waving both arms in the air shouting, "Over here, Da!" and by the time Thorfinn reached him, he was bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement.

The boy threw his arms around his father and hugged him tightly, and Thorfinn took a moment to be glad Einar was still young enough not to be embarrassed to hug his father in public.

'Well, 'tis good to see you! You look to have grown a foot since Christmas." He ruffled his son's curly dark-blond hair.

"I've got so much to tell you!" Einar said. "I got the highest mark in my class on my Charms exam, and Professor Burbage says I can join her fourth-year Muggle Studies class next year, if you say it's all right. Can I, Da? Please? I won't slack off the rest of my studies, I promise."

"Slow down there, lad, and let me catch up. There'll be plenty of time to talk about next term when we get home." He scanned the crowd of parents and children. "Where's your sister?"

"She'll be along. She said she'd be a few minutes, since she has prefect duties."

"Oh, aye, I'd forgotten."

The crowd on the platform began to thin as families reunited, chattering happily and exchanging news from Hogwarts and home. As Einar told Thorfinn about his second-year adventures at school, they were interrupted several times by boys calling their summer farewells. It pleased Thorfinn to see that his son appeared to be popular among his peers. He was studious but cheerful-natured, which Thorfinn supposed helped.

"Oi, McGonagall!" A stocky boy with short-cropped blond hair was coming towards them dragging a dented and scratched trunk behind him. "Thought I'd lost you in the crowd gettin' off." When he saw Thorfinn, he wiped his palm on his shirt and held out a hand. "Hello, sir. You must be Mr McGonagall. I'm Alastor Moody."

Thorfinn shook the hand. "It's a pleasure, Mr Moody. Einar's written to me about you."

"Nothin' too bad, I hope," Moody said, his mouth widening into a cheeky grin.

"On the contrary."

"That's a relief." To Einar, Alastor said, "Only, I was wondering, will we meet up this summer sometime?"

"Sure. You can get your dad to bring you to Caithness. Maybe you could stop with us over a weekend or something?" He looked questioningly at his father.

"Of course. Mr Moody is welcome to visit anytime."

"Thank you, sir," Alastor said.

"I'll owl you," Einar said, holding up a cage containing Balfour, the handsome long-eared owl he'd received for his thirteenth birthday in November.

Minerva bustled over to them, breathless and Levitating her trunk behind her.

"Sorry to hold you up. I had to sort a few students who couldn't find their parents. I don't know why some people can't be bothered to be on time for important things. Hullo, you."

As she hugged Thorfinn, he lifted her and twirled her around.

"Da!" she protested.

He set her back on her feet. "I'm sorry. I'm just so happy to see you."

"I'm happy to see you, too," she said, her grin and the sparkle in her eyes indicating she had forgiven his grievous assault on her teenaged dignity. "I take it Einar found you all right."

"Obviously," Einar said, rolling his eyes. Thorfinn refrained from telling him he looked just like his sister when he did that.

"Hello, Moody," Minerva said. "Are you having trouble finding your family?"

A bright pink flush swamped the freckles on Moody's cheeks. "No. I'm . . . It's . . . me da's over there." He pointed to a short man with grey-streaked brown hair. The man was smoking a cigarette and pacing.

I'd best be gettin' on," Alastor said. "Nice to meet you, Mr McGonagall. See you around, Einar. B . . . bye, Mi . . . Minerva." He set off towards his father, dragging the trunk behind him.

"Is he all right?" Minerva asked Einar. "He was acting a bit peculiar."

"He's fine," Einar said. "It's just, you remember his mother died a few months ago? He's been a little odd since then."

She slapped her forehead. "Merlin, that's right! I'd forgotten. And I had to go and ask about his family. Stupid."

"I'm sure it's all right," Thorfinn said. "Einar's invited him to visit us at Castle Isleif this summer."

"That's good." A mischievous smile curled Minerva's mouth. "Although, I don't know, you might be a bad influence, Einar, after what the two of you did to George Avery."

"Mi-ner-va," Einar groaned, shooting a worried glance at his father.

"It's all right," Thorfinn said, "your sister's not telling any tales I'm not aware of. Professor Merrythought wrote to me."

Einar gulped visibly. "She did?"

"She did. Said it took Madam Soranus and Professor Burke two days to sort this Avery lad."

Einar tugged nervously at his Ravenclaw tie. "You never wrote anything to me about it."

"No, I thought a week's worth of detention was adequate punishment. But you're lucky your gran didn't hear of it, or you'd have had a Howler for sure."

Einar grimaced, probably considering what his grandmother might have written for the entire school to hear.

Thorfinn chuckled. "But maybe Minerva is right. You and Mr Moody together might be too formidable a force for us to handle."

"I never said they—" Minerva began, but Thorfinn put a hand on her shoulder to quiet her.

He said, "I didn't ask Professor Merrythought, but can you tell me, what was the jinx you two used?"

"It wasn't exactly a jinx. It was more like two jinxes," Einar said. "Alastor cast a Furnunculus at the same time I did a Melofors. We didn't plan it, we just did it. It didn't turn out too well."

Thorfinn tried and failed to stifle a laugh. "I imagine it didn't."

Einar started to laugh too. "His face puffed up and went a funny orange colour, and it had these awful oozing sores!"

Even Minerva couldn't suppress a giggle, and the three of them shared a good laugh at the thought of George Avery walking around with a boil-covered pumpkin head for two days. Einar's Head of House, Galatea Merrythought, had written that the Avery boy had been tormenting a first-year Muggle-born student when Einar and Alastor cast their ill-advised jinxes, and Thorfinn was privately proud of his son for sticking up for the Muggle-born.

"Come," Thorfinn said, "grab your things and take my arms so I can Apparate us home."

"I can Apparate myself, Da, remember?" Minerva said.

"Och, so you can. I forgot you took your exam in the spring." Sometimes he had trouble believing that his little girl was seventeen already. It seemed to him that only yesterday she was all long plaits and scabby knees, but somewhere in the past year, she'd blossomed into, well . . . a young woman.

"Einar, then. I'll get your trunk, you grab Balfour, and we'll go. Can you manage with your trunk, Minerva?"

She nodded.

"Don't Splinch, now."

And here came the eyeroll. "I won't, Da."

~oOo~

After dinner, Einar went up to his room to write to Alastor, and Thorfinn, Minerva, and Morna sat in the library, the two older mages enjoying a dram of Cardhu. When Thorfinn had poured the whisky, he'd caught Minerva's hopeful glance, but he didn't offer her any. He'd allowed her a glass of wine with dinner, and he thought that was quite enough for his daughter for one evening, of age or not. She could learn to hold her drink like a good Scotswoman later.

He was glad of the liquor in his own belly, however, when she said, "I'd like to talk to you both about something. Two things, actually."

"Oh?" said Morna. "Should we be worried?"

"No. At least, I don't think so."

Thorfinn put down his glass. "We're listening."

She shifted from one foot to another before speaking.

"A few weeks ago, there was an article in the Prophet that said the Ministry might let witches into the Aurors. Because of the war."

A shroud of dread settled itself over Thorfinn, but he said, "Yes, I remember that story."

"If they do, I want to join."

"Oh, Minerva, no," said Morna.

Thorfinn gestured at his mother-in-law to stop her saying any more.

"Go on, lass. Why do you want to be an Auror?"

"Because we could lose the war. The indications are that things aren't going well, and the Magical Allies need all the help they can get. If Grindelwald gets here . . . the things he's doing in Eastern Europe . . . I couldn't bear to stand by and do nothing."

"There are other things to do besides fight on the front lines," Thorfinn said.

"I know, but I . . . well, I have a talent. Don't I." It wasn't a question. Colour flooded her pale face; she wasn't used to talking about her gifts. "I think the best way I can use it is to fight. And Professor Merrythought agrees."

"You've spoken to her about this?"

"A little. She has friends in the Ministry, and she thinks they're going to open the Auror training programme to witches. She said if they do, she'd give me a recommendation."

"This Professor Merrythought is your Defence teacher?" Morna asked.

"Yes. And she runs the duelling club," Minerva said. "I've won the school championship three years in a row."

"A duel between schoolchildren is a different matter entirely from a duel with Dark wizards," Morna said.

"I know. But I'd be trained. If I get into the programme."

Thorfinn took up his whisky glass again and swirled it around before swallowing the dregs. Minerva twisted her fingers in her lap as she waited for him to say something.

"I'd be lying if I said I'm happy about the idea," he said finally. "But you're nearly grown, and you've an excellent head on your shoulders. If it's something you feel you must do, I won't try to stop you."

Minerva's let out a breath. "Thanks, Da. That means a lot to me. Gran? Will you be angry if I join up?"

"Angry? Heavens, no, dear. Worried . . . nay, terrified, but never angry. You have your reasons for wanting to do this, and I know they're good ones because you're a good girl, and a smart one. If it comes to pass, I'll support you."

"Thank you."

"But if you go and get yourself killed, then I will be angry."

Minerva let out a relieved laugh. "I'll do my best to avoid it."

Thorfinn tried not to let his worries consume him. This was all theoretical at the moment. Who knew what would happen over the next year? The war could end, the Ministry might change its mind about letting witches into the Auror corps, Minerva could change her mind . . . Although, he thought ruefully, this last was unlikely. Minerva didn't make important decisions without a great deal of deliberation, but once she'd decided something, she pursued it with single-minded focus.

"What does Professor Dumbledore say about it?" he asked.

As her mentor, Dumbledore would no doubt try to steer her away from the idea if he thought she wasn't suited for it.

"I . . . um . . . I haven't spoken with him about it yet," Minerva said. "I wanted to talk to you first."

"But you did talk to Professor Merrythought," Thorfinn said.

"Yes. I wanted to see if she thought it was even possible."

"I see," said Thorfinn. Although he wasn't sure he did. The way she talked about him, Minerva clearly thought the moon and the stars revolved around Albus Dumbledore, and he was her mentor, so it surprised Thorfinn that she hadn't sounded him out on a subject as important as this.

Morna asked, "What was the other thing you wanted to discuss? I imagine you hit us with this first to make whatever's coming next seem like Puffskein's play."

Damn.

Thorfinn had forgotten Minerva had said she'd two things to tell them about.

"It's not Puffskein's play, exactly, but I think it'll be less shocking than the Aurors," Minerva said, "and it's somewhat related."

She hesitated, looking from her grandmother to her father.

"Well? We're waiting," Morna said.

"I'd like to try to become an Animagus," Minerva said.

Morna looked over at Thorfinn, who kept his face neutral.

"Well, that's not so bad," Morna said. "The way you were hemming and hawing, I thought you were going to say you wanted to start breeding Hungarian Horntails in the wine cellar."

"No, but it will require special lessons," Minerva said. "It could be expensive."

"That's not a problem," Thorfinn said. "Why were you nervous about asking us?"

"Well . . . Professor Dumbledore says most people don't start the training until they're fully qualified mages. Usually when their magic is completely developed, he says."

"But you want to do it now?" Thorfinn asked.

"Yes."

"What's the hurry?"

"It could be helpful with the war. There are only a few Animagi in Britain. And Professor Dumbledore thinks I could be ready to start trying soon. My magic is very mature for my age, he says. He has a friend who teaches people to become Animagi, Professor Falco, and Dumbledore said he'd write to him to see if he'd give me lessons. But he said I had to get your permission before he'd ask him." She frowned. "Even though I am of age."

"And quite right," Morna said.

"So, may I try?" Minerva asked.

"I'd like to know a little more about it," Thorfinn said. "It's very difficult, as I understand it."

"Yes. That's why there are so few Animagi. Professor Dumbledore also says there's a theory that you have to have a gene for it. Like . . . like rolling your tongue. Some people have the gene, and some don't."

"And how do you know if you have it?"

"You don't. Not until you try."

"Isn't that a lot of work for something you may not even be able to do?"

Minerva shrugged. "I suppose. But it would still be worth trying, don't you think?"

"Possibly. I'm assuming there are risks?"

Minerva picked at a non-existent bit of lint on her skirt.

"Out with it, lass," Thorfinn said. "What don't you want to tell me about this grand plan of yours?"

"Well, some people have changed and, well . . . not been able to change back on their own."

"They stayed animals?" Mora asked, appalled.

"Yes." Minerva added quickly, "But that wouldn't happen to me, because I'd be doing it under supervision until I was really good at changing back."

"And what else?" Thorfinn asked.

Minerva swallowed. "An incomplete transformation can cause damage to the organs. If they don't change properly, for example. If it happens inside, you might not know it until you get sick. But usually they can fix it."

"Usually?"

"Sometimes, if it's something like the heart, you can just . . . get really sick or die before they can heal you."

"And how do you prevent these things from happening?"

"I don't know yet, but that's all part of the training, Professor Dumbledore says. The master works closely with the student to make sure they know what to do and what not to do."

Thorfinn considered. This clearly wasn't something to take lightly. Then again, Minerva wasn't the sort to take anything lightly. Unlike the Auror business, she'd clearly consulted Dumbledore about this, which made sense, given it was really a Transfiguration matter. Thorfinn wondered if Dumbledore had put it in her head or if Minerva had come to it on her own. Surely Dumbledore wouldn't encourage her to pursue something that was likely to harm her. Which was, Thorfinn realised, probably why she hadn't discussed Auror training with him. He made a mental note to talk to Dumbledore himself about Minerva's plans.

She was looking at him, eyes wide with hope.

He said, "If I were to give my permission—I said, if, Minerva."

She grinned.

"If I were to give it, I would want to talk with this Professor . . . what was his name? Falco? Before you begin."

"Of course, Da."

"When were you thinking of starting this training?"

"During the next term, if Professor Falco will take me."

"With all your studies, and your other activities, don't you think you'd be taking on too much?" he asked

"No. And if it's too much, I can drop some of the extra things."

Thorfinn raised an eyebrow. "Quidditch?"

Minerva's face fell a few inches. "Maybe. If I have to. But I'd give up chess and duelling club first."

"I would think duelling club would be more important if you want to be an Auror," Morna said.

"I can keep my skills up without the club."

"It sounds as if you won't have much time for fun," Morna said.

"Studying new things is fun," Minerva said. "Mostly."

"It is, no doubt. But what about friends? A social life?" said Thorfinn.

Minerva shrugged. "I have friends. I'm not that interested in a so-called social life."

"No Hogsmeade dates, even?" Morna said with a smile.

"No," Minerva said firmly.

"What about that young man you met up with over the Christmas holidays? The one who owled you every day."

"Isaac?"

"Yes. You won't even have time for him?"

"No."

"Surely there are other nice boys you might want to walk out with some weekend?"

Morna was clearly enjoying goading Minerva a little. Thorfinn wished she wouldn't tease. Minerva didn't seem to care much about her lack of a "so-called social life", but it bothered Thorfinn. He didn't want his daughter to end up lonely. Although, he couldn't say he was too disappointed that she wasn't mad for the boys. She was a bonny lass, so he'd been afraid they'd be swarming about, but so far, he hadn't had to chase any away. Not that Minerva couldn't do that herself, of course, if the need arose. As poor Isaac and his owls seemed to attest.

"Gran," said an exasperated Minerva, "I've told you, there aren't any boys at Hogwarts that interest me."

"That's a shame. A bit of harmless canoodling might be good for you."

"Gran!" cried Minerva. A scandalised Minerva was always an amusing sight, Thorfinn thought, hiding a smile.

"None of your outrage, please, my girl," Morna said, "I'm just saying that it's natural and normal for a girl your age to think about romance, at least a little. I worry that if you spend too much time with your books, you'll miss out on some of the fun of being young."

"Well, there's a war on," Minerva said, as if that explained everything.

"Even more reason," said Morna, nodding as if confirming it.

"The boys at Hogwarts are just too boring to bother with."

Thorfinn snorted a laugh, and the two women looked over at him.

He held up his hands in resignation. "I'm sorry, Morna, but Minerva's right. Seventeen-year-old boys are boring. They only have one thing on their minds."

Minerva's brows rose in shock.

"What I mean to say," said a flustered Thorfinn, "is that most teenaged boys can't talk about anything but Quidditch."

"And girls," said Morna. "Unless a lot has changed since I was in school."

"Yes, well . . . that too," said Thorfinn. "Minerva is too smart for them. She'll have lots of time to meet boys after she leaves school."

"There will be plenty in the Auror training programme, I should think," Morna said, smirking.

Minerva gave her grandmother the sternest in her wide repertoire of stern looks.

"I am done with this particular conversation," she said. "Da, will you write to Professor Dumbledore to give your permission for him to contact Professor Falco?"

"Yes. Provided he answers my questions."

"I'm sure he will." Minerva gathered up the two books she'd taken from the library shelf. "I think I'll head up now and do some reading."

She kissed her father and grandmother.

"That girl is going to drive herself into the ground," Morna said after the door had closed behind her granddaughter.

"She enjoys hard work."

"She'll end up alone if she isn't careful," Morna said, giving voice to his own worries.

He said, "I think she's waiting to find someone who can get his mind around her."

"She might have a long wait, then."

"She might."

Thorfinn didn't know if that made him sad or relieved.

More in the Epithalamium Series

For anyone who is interested, there are links and information on the backstory for characters and events in the "Epithalamium universe" on my website.

If you'd like to know more about Minerva and Albus's adventures, you might enjoy the following stories, set in the same universe.

Bonnie Wee Thing | Epithalamium #0.5 ~ A short story that takes place on the day of Minerva McGonagall's birth.

One to Keep an Eye On | Epithalamium #0.72 ~ Young Minerva has her first Transfiguration class. It does not go as Albus expects.

From Jupiter's Head | Epithalamium #0.75 ~ Thorfinn McGonagall observes his daughter, Minerva, as she grows up, and finds that she is a very unusual witch.

Epithalamium | Epithalamium #1 ~ An epic romance novel that follows Minerva McGonagall from her seventh year at Hogwarts through her first year of teaching.

1945 | Epithalamium #1.5 ~ An excerpt from emEpithalamium/em. Albus Dumbledor travels to Germany to confront Gellert Grindelwald.

Come Autumn, Sae Pensive | Epithalamium #3 ~ A novel following Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore through an unexpected pregnancy and its aftermath.

Winterreise | Epithalamium #3.5 ~ A short story about tension between Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore.

Familiar Rituals | Epithalamium #3.6 ~ A short story about some end-of-term rituals and how Minerva McGonagall became Head of Gryffindor House.

Mammals of the Order Chiroptera | Epithalmium #3.7 ~ A short story in which Severus Snape observes members of the Order of the Phoenix at closer range than he would perhaps like.

Ca' the Yowes | Epithalamium #3.8 ~ A fluffy short story featuring Minerva McGonagall just after the Stunner attack in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart | Epithalamium #4 ~ A novella about the lengths Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape must go to in the prosecution of the war after Dumbledore's death.

Copyright

The author believes this work falls within the scope of the Fair Use Doctrine as a transformative work. For more information, see the Organization for Transformative Works.

This work of fiction is available for use under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license.

The works quoted in the story are in the public domain, with the following exceptions: