Minerva sat shivering on the stone floor. She couldn't stop the sobs as they shook her body and ripped her heart. She knew she had no choice but to call the clan to a meeting, but goddamn it- did it have to hurt so much?
She weakly got up and put on her robes.
Clan rules stated that the Master or Mistress could only call meetings once a year. If it was a true emergency and an additional meeting was needed, they would have to speak to Riordan alone to get his permission to meet with the rest of the family.
She knew why the rules were there- to prevent insanity and dependence. Seeing dead loved ones is as addictive as any whiskey, and if someone didn't control it, you'd never leave the inner chamber.
And the McGonagalls simply wouldn't allow that. Life goes on, no matter how much it hurts.
She flicked her wrist and cast a light on the room. She looked longingly at the cross engraved on the ground. How she treasured the fleeting times that she could see her beloved family.
She walked up the steps, feeling her body protest. These meetings drained her energy and magic like nothing other.
She reached the top landing and the linen shelf rotated allowing her to exit.
Opening the door, she was greeted with an empty hallway.
"Lera," Minerva called.
A small pop sounded. "Yes Mistress?"
"I think I will stay here tonight. Please send word to Percival that I am safe and will be back tomorrow."
"Yes ma'ams. Yous be needings dinner?"
"Yes, nothing elaborate, please. A vegetable beef stew will do."
Lera nodded. "We will makes your room now. Yous be wantings your tartan down comforter and silk sheets?"
Minerva smiled. Her house elf was so wonderful. "That is perfect."
With another small nod, the small house disappeared.
Minerva walked down the hallway to the library. Moving to the large cabinet on the side wall, she withdrew her favorite bottle of whiskey. She poured herself a healthy amount in the glass tumbler and sat on the large overstuffed leather chair. Albus had bought it because he "loved the feeling of sinking into a chair," but Minerva had hated the lack of posture support.
She had always opted to sit on the sofa, which was, according to Tessa, only supposed to be used for psychiatrists' offices, not for a home.
Now, after many years of sitting rigidly on her couch, she had to agree with her husband and daughter- the leather chair was much more agreeable.
She reached onto the coffee table and grabbed the nearest book. It was a Muggle book on the different types of birds that were native to Scotland. Definitely an Albus purchase.
Minerva curiously opened the book and began reading.
Xxxxxxxx
The Prophet the next day didn't boast anything special, but Donal still found himself reading it every day.
Call it habit, but the Prophet was the only reading material he was allowed in Azkaban. Even criminals needed the news.
He was about to call it quits when the gossip column caught his attention.
Never one to rely on what was printed there, a certain name still caught his attention.
Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, is spending her holiday at her family home in Godric's Hollow. McGonagall normally spends her holidays at the castle, but she said that this year she wanted to be at home to work on various projects for the Transfiguration Society. She will, however, be attending the Christmas Day feast at the castle. She will be leaving Hogwarts on December 14th.
Donal's eyes bulged at the small column. Could it be true? Why on earth would Minerva release that information?
Perhaps the Board required Headmasters and Headmistresses to disclose their location if they are to leave the premises while students were still in attendance.
Had that been a rule before? He couldn't remember.
But, if it was true, then he could attack the house and Minerva on the same day. One attack, one kill.
Still, it was oddly suspicious that the information he needed would just appear in the Prophet… but yet again, it was the gossip column. Most likely Minerva had been speaking to someone and a journalist had overheard her speaking.
He had been walking around Godric's Hollow and the surrounding area for a few hours. He was waiting, trying to make up his mind to go ahead and try to destroy the house now or postpone it until Minerva might be there.
Deciding that waiting was perhaps the wisest thing to do, he found an abandoned little flat on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow, and there he would wait… because if she didn't show up, he'd be able to strike it the next day.
Xxxxxxxx
Esmerele had been released from Poppy's care by the beginning of the next week.
A strange calm had fallen over the McGonagall family. Minerva continued her regular duties as Headmistress… checking in on classrooms, observing professors, doing endless paperwork, running back and forth to the ministry…
Percival was flooing back and forth to the Potions Order so he could continue working. Minerva had checked and rechecked to make sure the network was secure, much to her son's amusement.
Tessa was still attempting to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts. At Minerva's endless nagging, she had agreed to sit in on the fourth through seventh year classes. She used the cover of being a liaison for Beauxbaton's Academy for her reason behind observing the classes. If a student ever talked to her, she really layered on the French accent.
Esmerele stayed in her mother's bed most of the day, even though she could walk around. The two incidents really seemed to have killed her confidence, and all she wanted to do was sit and read most of the days.
She received her regular paperwork from the Society via mail, and in a couple of days she had caught up on her work. But she couldn't bring herself to do much else.
At night, she slept curled up tightly beside her mother, head nestled in the crook of her neck, arm wrapped around her thin waist.
It worried Minerva to see her daughter so frightened even in her sleep, but she knew that she was the exact same way with Albus during the wars.
While Esmerele slept, Minerva ran her fingers across her daughter's scars and couldn't help but let a few tears slip from her emerald eyes. She had worked so hard to keep her children out of harms way, and she had failed.
One night, Esmerele caught her mother crying, and she gently leaned up and kissed her mother's cheek.
"You didn't fail us, Mommy."
Xxxxxxxx
December 14th was rapidly approaching, and Minerva found herself going to and from the safe house every day to make preparations for Donal's attack.
She would morph into her animagus form and apparate to the house, using the small hole to the basement as her way of entrance.
The house as a whole was not feline-friendly, and Minerva found herself transfiguring the wood in the ceiling to allow her nimble body access from floor to floor.
To prevent Donal from having a place to run for cover, Minerva removed all of the furniture throughout the house. On all the floors, she opened up all the walls, allowing her to aim clearly from any vantage point.
As a lure, she created an elaborate door at the far end of the room. On it was a Celtic cross much like that at the Manor. She left it slightly ajar so that Donal could see the stairway leading downstairs. She was hoping that he would think that the door led to the heart of the house.
Once downstairs, she had set up another marble cross with Gaelic inscriptions on the white stone. She had an opeing in the ceiling that would allow her a clear way to hit him with a spell while he attempted to destroy the cross.
If anything went wrong, she had a way to make it to the roof of the house so she could apparate away or strike him from above.
Percival insisted that he be there in the event things went south, so Minerva had agreed to let him hide out on the roof of a neighboring house.
No way she would let him be inside with her. Because if Donal caught on to their game, he'd blow the whole thing up out of sheer frustration.
And she would be damned before any of her children got hurt again.
Xxxxxxxxx