A/N: This miiiight not be that great, but insomnia and NaNoWriMo are harsh mistresses. Anyway, in lieu of an actual update to the story, here's a little blurb about Minerva's cattiness. (You may have seen this idea floating around the internet, where Minerva just does Cat Things when she turns into a cat. Apparently it's really inspiring, because here's the first in what will probably be a series of Cat!Minerva being, well, a cat.)
Warnings: Sheer, unadultured crack. In the best way.
Disclaimer: You can tell I don't own anything because the characters weren't actually this ridiculous in the books.
Summary: Minerva McGonagall is a former Auror, a stern professor, and a formidable witch. It just so happens that sometimes she's also a cat.
Just Cat Things
Albus allowed himself a weary sigh as he entered his office, yearning for bed even as he prepared himself to finish his tasks for the night. He had supplies to gather for the major still, and owls to send to the Ministry to explain just why a foreign official would be gaining custody of their precious savior. Albus wasn't certain he liked the situation himself. Was it right for him to leave the boy in such distant hands, where he wouldn't be able to look in on him himself? Not to mention that the poor young man had so recently returned from the battlefield. There really was no telling if Mustang was emotionally prepared for the task of raising a child, but what choice did he really have? Voldemort wasn't really dead, not if the prophecy was to be believed, and Harry's survival was tantamount. If he was a little bit neglected, well, that was something they could take care of once the child came to Hogwarts. It might even turn out in his favor, in fact, considering what he'd have to ask Harry to do...
But that was in the future. Right now he had to purchase a small supply of diapers and formula—perhaps he'd send Severus for it—then talk Fudge down from making Harry a ward of the state, and, most urgently, deal with the cat in his room.
Albus slowly closed the door and narrowed his eyes at the tabby on the far side of the room. The cat narrowed her eyes back, tail twitching once. When he took a step forward, the cat leisurely got to her feet, stretched luxuriously with all of her claws out, and stepped daintily over to the most expensive and breakable sensor on his tables. She batted at it curiously with one paw, making it wobble slightly, and then sat back on her haunches. Not once during this entire procedure did she take her eyes away from his own.
"Don't," Albus said, very softly and with complete calm. The cat immediately started licking at her shoulder, an innocent relaxation to her posture. Taking that as agreement, he took a few steps across the room to save the instrument; the cat, instantly alert, was on her feet again with one paw poised to bat at the sensor again.
"Minerva," Albus said in his sternest voice, not that this had ever worked. The cat's tail twitched once, twice, and then she very deliberately pushed her new toy over the edge of the table. It landed with a tinkling crash and a little cloud of rainbow sparks, and she sat back on her haunches again. She still hadn't lifted her gaze from Albus's own, but Albus solved that by sighing again and closing his eyes as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
"Mreooooowwww," the cat said in a reproving tone.
"I assure you that Major Mustang is a perfectly suitable guardian for the boy, Minerva," Albus said tiredly, walking over to the chair behind his desk and collapsing on it. He pulled over some parchment to prepare his first letter, but the cat nimbly leapt on top of it. Albus glowered at her. She laid down on the parchment, tucking her paws up underneath her chest, and glowered right back. "Minerva, really. What purpose does this serve?"
"Meowww," the cat replied.
Albus leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers in front of his face, regarding the cat with his most serious expression, but the cat just stared impatiently back at him. Nothing for it but an explanation, then.
"You are aware, of course, that I don't truly believe Voldemort is gone for good. The prophecy clearly says Harry is the only person who can defeat him, so his survival is of the most import. If Petunia were still alive, I would have left the boy with her, to take advantage of his mother's sacrifice, but in lieu of a living relative, the best I can do is to set him up with a family that's both powerful enough to protect him, and smart enough to outwit their opponents. Mustang is young, I admit, but you've heard the stories of what his alchemy can do. And Berthold always did have complaints about how clever and manipulative his young protégé was. If anybody will be capable of keeping Harry Potter alive, it will be him."
The cat stared at him for a few more seconds before she relaxed and finally looked away—only to roll over onto her back and give him a beseeching look.
"I'm not falling for that trap again, Minerva," Albus stated firmly. "Please get off my parchment. I need to contact the Minister to prepare Harry's adoption papers."
"Meooow?" the cat said mournfully, kneading at the air and looking far more adorable than a lady her age should be capable of. Albus gave in reluctantly, scratching the cat's head, and smiled as she flopped onto her side and started purring. She looked every inch the spoiled cat, such a complete juxtaposition to her normal demeanor that it was even cuter than it may have been otherwise.
"I wish I knew where your dignity went when you let yourself be a cat for extended periods," Albus said seriously to his Deputy Headmistress. The cat continued purring, though her ears did twitch in his direction. "Do you think you might regain it long enough to pass a message on to Severus? I was hoping to send him out to purchase a few supplies to send to Amestris for Harry."
The cat opened her eyes and regarded him with an amused expression before she rolled back to her feet and stretched again. Then, tail up and showcasing the dignity she'd forgone in favor of being petted, she made her way out of his closed office in the mysterious way of cats everywhere.
Albus smiled after her for a moment, then shook his head and turned back to his desk. A frown stole across his face. There was a neat collection of claw marks ruining his good parchment.
A/N: For the record, I do at some point plan on writing Minerva doing Cat Things at Snape. And other people. It just may be…some time coming. Yeah.
