Author's Note: I've been busy posting some other unrelated Harry Potter stories if you want to check them out, "Poisons of the Soul" and "Twinkling". In this chapter we get to meet Minerva friends back at Hogwarts. Please let me know your thought on this latest chapter. We get to see what's going on at Hogwarts for the first time! Enjoy your holidays and please review.
Chapter Eight
Melanie stared at the man next to Moody with a pit gnawing in her stomach. "So Auror Moody tells me that you have been one of the leads on the McGonagall girl, Junior Auror Ramirez. That you've gotten to know her, gotten her to open up to you so we could gain information."
Jason Castrin was the Head of the Defense for the Ministry of Magic. He looked more like a politician than an Auror and after the last fiasco with well dressed men from the Ministry, Melanie didn't want to meet with him. "I've been guarding Minerva, yes."
He nodded and folded his hands in his lap.
"Tell me how she's doing."
A flame of irritation whelmed up in her. "No well, sir, after helping out the Ministry with her torturer, who attacked her, she relapsed and spiked a fever and she's returned to not speaking. Her blood counts are down and the Healers said that she's decreased in her overall nutrition again. She's shutting back down."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Melanie swallowed her reply at Moody's sharp glare.
"McGonagall is the reason we have the codes and Macnair, yes?" Moody nodded from the corner of the room. "What else has she given us?"
"She's identified patterns for us, some routes and phrases, their code words and things like that, but were not sure how current or accurate they are, afterall, the girl is tramatized."
The man nodded. "You said Dumbledore and the girl were close has he gotten anything out of her?"
"The Healer says she has a rare type of disassociation," Moody said, cutting off Melanie's reply. "She can speak and has, but can't. She managed to convince herself to forget to speak in order to keep information from the Blackcoats. The Healer doesn't know how to reverse it or how to get her to open up."
"How curious," the man said, stroking his short beard. "I have friends in warfare medicine that would kill for a case like this. They study for this type of psychological damages. How did you manage to get her to speak, Auror?"
Melanie smoothed her robes, feeling self-conscious. "I didn't, sir. Minerva did it all on her own. I was just there for her."
The man brushed off the comment and turned to Moody. "Keep an eye on the girl. Contact me with further details of her medical case. I'll be interested in the psychological ramifications. German torturers often have strange effects on the mind." He stood and Melanie jerked to her feet as well.
Melanie swallowed and blurted out, "what are you going to do to her?"
The man looked surprised and Moody glared. "To Miss McGonagall? Goodness, nothing. She's going home with Dumbledore, expectedly. We, the Auroring Department and the Ministry of Magic, have no further use for her. Once the rest of the camp is released she and the rest of the captives are allowed to go home and everything can go back to normal."
As if that could ever be true.
*The Great War 1944*
"A word Auror Ramirez?"
Albus Dumbledore lead the way to the edge of the tent, where they could see Minerva sitting on the edge of the encampment, huddled in a corner of a blanket with a large textbook. She was alone, wrapped in a large coat that looked like Dumbledore's.
"Should she be out of bed?"
Dumbledore jerked his head. He looked more tired than normal. Between caring for Minerva and going through the files they had discovered in the safe from the Blackcoats, Melanie rarely saw him sleep. His robes were dirty and crinkled and his beard was tangled.
"The fever broke again and the Healer said it was good for her to get more sunlight. I just wanted to warn you that there have been reports that the camp is going to be cleared within three months. Those not in critical conditions are going to be quietly escorted before then. In the meantime, Galatea Merrythought and four students from Hogwarts are coming."
Melanie frowned for a moment confused. "Why?"
"To help Minerva, I hope. Maybe they'll be able to break the spell. Perhaps they can help us get Minerva back."
*The Great War 1944*
"Do you think she's actually going to let us see her?"
The girl who had spoken was pacing back and forth around the hall, boots clopping loudly against the stone floors. Her short cropped hair was bronze and glinted off the light, matching her hawk like yellow eyes that were alight and bright. She wore a Hogwarts uniform that was slightly wrinkled.
"I doubt it," the Edward Potter grumbled. "When my Muggle cousin came back from fighting overseas, he locked himself in his bedroom and refused to come out. When my aunt and uncle finally broke down the door, they found himself strung up from the ceiling. He had hung himself from the fan. They don't let little kids see the war debris. It'll be a miracle if she even looks like Minerva anymore."
"Potter! That's awful, don't say things like that!" the hawk eyed witch hissed, slapping her friend sharply.
"It's true, Xio," the boy defended hotly.
"Shut up all of you," the other girl snapped from her position her long, rust colored hair fell off over her shoulders. Since her friend's abduction, she had insisted on keeping it in a tight, intricate French twist, so no one could tell it's length or of its wave. Her skin was slightly tanned from her time oversea and a sprig of freckles dusted her nose. Her sharp hazel eyes moved back and forth between her friend's anxiously.
"Sorry, Poppy," Xiomara said quietly, suddenly subdued, remembering the presence of their other friend. "I know you've missed her something awful."
"Missed her?" the girl said sharply, turning to glare at the other girl in disbelief. "Missed her? Yes, like a hole ripped through my chest. One moment she was sitting in the common room with me, going over Charms homework and the next minute, the Aurors are telling us it's better if she's dead?"
The youngest girl with stately and rosy cheeks stepped forward and put her hand on top of Poppy's. She was stout with frizzy orange toned hair. "It's all right, Poppy," she said quietly.
"Are we ready?" Professor Galatea Merrythought said, coming down the hallway, her boots clicking on the stone floors. The Defense Professor was tall and thin with a severe looking bun. Her olive toned face highlighted large brown eyes that showed her truly caring heart. Her black teaching robes flared out behind her.
"Professor Merrythought, are we actually going to be able to see minerva?" Potter interrupted immediately.
She nodded once. "That is the understand, Mister Potter. Though I must warn you, the kind of trauma that your friend has been through leaves more scars than just visable to the naked eye. You need to be cautious. No yelling, sharp movements, and loud noises," she sent a sharp glance at Potter, "she may be distance or like she's not even there. All of that is normal. Just be prepared for whatever state she may be in when we arrive."
The professor glanced at her pocket watch. "We're set to leave in just a moment."
"Professor…" Poppy trailed off.
The professor stopped short and looked down at the girl.
"Is she really?" Poppy glanced down at her scuffed black boots.
"Alive?" the professor prompted. The bronze haired girl nodded and the woman gave her a small smile. "Yes, she is. I don't know what kind of shape she is in. If she can talk to you or if she will be okay. I cannot make promises that she will be able to come home safely. I don't know much more about her condition than you."
She took a deep breath and looked around at the four sets of eyes transfixed on her.
"I need you to prepare yourself. We are leaving the confines of Hogwarts, somewhere relatively untouched by war, and heading to what remains of Nurmengard Prison. I need you to prepare yourself for the battlefield of war."