Cat Among the Pixies

I am SO sorry for the long delay, everyone! I got ridiculously busy and barely had enought time to sleep, let alone write. But here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoy, and thanks again for the great reviews!

'Sweet Merlin.'

Connor lay in bed early the next morning, staring at his ceiling. His head pounded, but for once he doubted it was due to intoxication. He tried to shut his mind off, to keep from thinking, but the memory played over and over again like a haunted ghost he couldn't get rid of. He, for the first time in several years, truly hated himself.

He had managed to insult Minerva and accuse Dumbledore of lying at the same time. He had never been such a fool as he had at that moment. The memory itself was agony, like his very mind was on fire at the thought of it. He had loved Minerva, and he wanted to again, to get to know the passionate witch behind the mask as he had years ago. He pursued her, first with enthusiasm and eagerness, then with desperation as she continually refused him. How could he not have seen that she did not want him?

Connor groaned and pulled the covers over his head as Dumbledore's unruffled expression floated into his mind. He had accused Dumbledore of having an affair with Minerva. Dear Merlin, could it have gone any worse?

A soft knock at the door had him bolt-right up in bed. It opened slowly, and to his surprise, Trudy poked her head in. She was in her nightclothes and she was smiling tentatively. Connor stared at her.

'Trudy?' he asked. 'What are you doing here?'

Trudy looked embarrassed. 'I wasn't sure if you were going to be alright last night,' she confessed. 'So when I brought you back here, I decided to kip on your couch overnight. I hope you don't mind.'

Connor sank back down on his covers, never so grateful for Trudy. 'Of course I don't mind. You did me a favour, Tru. I'll repay you eventually.' He sighed, tired. 'Come in,' he offered. Trudy entered quietly and shut the door softly behind her.

There was a silence. Then; 'Trudy?' Connor asked feebly. 'Was it really terrible?' Trudy hesitated and wouldn't meet his eyes. 'Trudy?' Connor insisted.

'Yes,' she finally muttered. 'Yes, it was bad.' Connor winced, and Trudy, to his surprise, did not hasten to comfort him. He had expected that to be Trudy's response. There was only one explanation: Trudy was displeased with him too.

'Tru, I didn't mean to do it, I still can't believe that I – oh, God, Trudy, I completely humiliated myself. I can't imagine what Minerva thinks of me now, and Dumbledore – gods, Dumbledore! I'll be surprised if he doesn't give me the sack.'

Trudy still remained silent. Connor's agitation increased, his hurt and horror flooding out and he powerless to stop it.

'I've ruined any chances I may have had with Minerva. I loved her so much, Tru – I still can't believe what she called me! Did you hear? A sexist bastard, that's what she said, and conceited too! I was being a pig, I know, but still, I don't think she should've –.'

'Connor,' Trudy said carefully, 'I think Professor McGonagall may have had a point.' Connor felt his mouth drop open. Trudy was siding with Minerva? He knew he had acted somewhat inappropriately, but she was his cousin and he needed her support.

'Trudy, she was entirely unfair to me, you can't expect me to –.'

'Connor,' Trudy interrupted softly, 'you accused her of holding a grudge against you for fifty years.'

'Well, yes, but,' Connor began.

'Then,' Trudy continued, overriding him, 'you told her she was insulting you and turning you down for no reason.'

'Tru,' Connor began again, feebly.

'And,' Trudy finished, 'you accused Dumbledore of having an affair with her.'

Connor said nothing for a moment, and Trudy took the opportunity to speak to him gently. 'Connor,' she said softly, 'I don't want to downplay how embarrassed and disappointed you must feel right now, but…I don't wish to be insensitive, but this isn't all about you.'

'I think Professor McGonagall may be feeling…hurt,' Trudy continued carefully, praying to Merlin she was right. 'Some of what you said was…below the belt, so to speak.'

'Below the belt?' Connor repeated, finally speaking.

'It's a muggle expression,' Trudy explained. 'It means something was unfair, or harsh.' Trudy sighed. 'I just think that you ought to have been more careful. And,' she continued, 'I think you should apologize, as Professor McGonagall demanded – to her and to Dumbledore.'

Connor sat very still. Trudy's words pounded into his mind over and over, but he could not make sense of them. They whirled around, and Connor felt as though he sit there for hours and hours trying to figure it out. Distantly he sensed Trudy rise off the bed.

'I'm going back to my rooms, Connor,' she said softly. 'I'll see you later. Send for me if you need me, alright? Don't worry, I still love you.' She patted his hand tenderly before leaving the room, leaving Connor utterly motionless at the head of the bed.

Trudy walked down the hallways of the castle, hoping she didn't meet anyone. She was still dressed in just her nightclothes that she'd picked up from her rooms on the way to Connor's last night. They weren't embarrassing, but she definitely didn't want any students seeing her dressed like this.

Trudy was almost to her chambers when she heard a familiar, steady click of heels behind her. She froze, her face heating up and she delayed the moment for a second longer.

'Professor Crawford?' came Minerva McGonagall's voice. 'Might I have a word?'

Trudy's face could have been used to light a fire, she was certain, so hot was her skin. 'Of course,' she muttered to the floor. 'Do you mind coming in? I only need to change.' Oh Merlin, she could hardly look up from her slippers. Trudy respected Professor McGonagall more than any teacher in the school, and now she couldn't even meet her eyes.

'Thank you,' Professor McGonagall said, stepping inside. Trudy gestured to the couch, still speaking to the carpet.

'Um, just make yourself at home, Professor. I'll just be a moment.' Without waiting for an answer, Trudy hurried into her bedroom and changed as quickly as possible, not wanting to keep her guest waiting. She arrived back in the sitting room in record time to find Professor McGonagall sitting on the couch almost regally. To Trudy's surprise, she smiled when Trudy managed to meet her eyes. Rather than sit next to her, Trudy sat in the armchair next to the fire.

'Tea?' she offered, but Professor McGonagall shook her head. Of course, Trudy thought bitterly, she's here on business, not pleasure.

'Trudy,' Professor McGonagall said dryly, 'you can stop shaking. I'm not here to sack you.' Trudy gaped and clasped her hands together.

'I'm actually here,' Professor McGonagall continued, 'to thank you. I'm very, very grateful for your actions and comportment last night, not to mention highly impressed. I certainly do not blame you for your cousin's actions; in fact, I believe you were the reason they did not escalate into something worse. You certainly proved yourself a very capable woman and witch, and I'd actually like to apologize for treating you so distantly.'

Trudy's face was red again, but this time in pleasure. Professor McGonagall had never complimented Trudy so highly, and Trudy thought she would burst with pride.

'Thank you so much, Professor McGonagall!' Trudy said earnestly, meaning to continue, but the deputy cut her off.

'Please, do me a favour? Call me Minerva,' the tall witch requested with a smile. Trudy nodded eagerly.

'Of course, Prof – Minerva,' she agreed, for the first time comfortable with the thought.

'Where have you been?' Prof – no, Minerva – asked curiously, nodding her head towards the door. 'It's a bit early to be up and about.'

'Oh,' Trudy said, blushing again, 'oh, I was just with – with Connor. Just to make sure he wasn't going to, well, to do anything rash, I suppose.' Minerva raised her eyebrows.

'And did he?' she asked.

'No, no,' Trudy said hurriedly. 'I was just talking to him. He was being a bit…self-centered. I probably shouldn't be talking about it.' Trudy did feel slightly uncomfortable talking about last night; but truthfully, she didn't want to bring it up if Minerva felt uneasy discussing it, especially with her, Connor's cousin.

Minerva did not appear particularly self-conscious, however. 'I don't wish to slander him,' she told Trudy, 'both because he is a member of my staff and because he is your cousin and generally a good man. But,' she continued, 'he did behave inappropriately. I confess that it was a challenge for me, as well.'

'A challenge how?' Trudy questioned curiously. 'I think you handled it very well, considering.'

Minerva smiled ruefully. 'I'll be the first to scold a student for losing their temper and hexing another,' she said, which Trudy already knew. 'But to be honest, I had quite the problem with my temper when I was younger – and did for the rest of my life, in fact.' Trudy was surprised. She had heard that Minerva was very passionate, though she hadn't seen any evidence of it herself, but a temper problem?

'I worked very hard at controlling my temper as I got older,' Minerva told her, continuing the story. 'And to some degree, I did succeed. But there are still times when I do lose control, and someone has to intervene. Albus, usually.'

'Like when?' Trudy asked, and then mentally kicked herself for her rudeness. She was still unable to picture Minerva McGonagall, the strictest teacher in the school, losing her temper at someone.

'There was an incident, years ago, you may remember – Cedric Diggory was killed during the Triwizard Tournament, when it was held here at Hogwarts?' Trudy nodded; she'd heard of the tragedy.

'The minister, Cornelius Fudge, brought a Dementor to the castle, to the room where I was guarding the man Albus thought responsible for Diggory's death. Well, the Dementor,' she tripped slightly over the next few words, 'it preformed its – the Dementor's Kiss,' she said. 'It was horrible. And it was only Severus – Snape, sorry – that stopped me from hexing Fudge through the wall. Even afterwards, when we were all together, and Potter and his friends were present, I completely lost it. Shouting at Fudge, that sort of thing.' Trudy gaped, but quickly recovered.

'He would have deserved it, though!' Trudy defended Minerva. 'I mean, that would have been a horrible thing to have to witness, besides the fact that you just lost the murderer!'

Minerva nodded. 'But would you have cursed Fudge if you'd been present?' she asked, arching an eyebrow.

'Well,' Trudy hesitated, 'well, no, but –.'

'Exactly,' Minerva said wryly. 'A hot temper, as I said.' She shrugged and rose to her feet. 'I won't keep you, Trudy,' she said, heading for the door. 'Again, thank you. I shall see you at lunch.' Before Minerva could leave, Trudy called out.

'Minerva,' she said, hesitant, 'do you think Connor might…would the Headmaster – or even you – will he be sacked, do you think?'

Minerva actually laughed. 'Heavens, no,' she assured Trudy. 'Merlin knows Horace does enough inappropriate things for everyone when he is drunk. Connor will be fine.' Trudy nodded, comforted, and then Minerva really did leave.

Trudy wasn't exactly sure how much time she wasted, sitting on the couch with a stupid grin plastered on her face, but she later found she didn't much care.

Minerva swept down the hallway, careful not to allow her mind to wander. She trusted Trudy's belief that Connor was still in his rooms, but she was sure her sanity (and temper) wouldn't survive another run-in with him, so she stayed alert, hoping to hear any footsteps before their owner could appear.

As it happened, Minerva did hear someone coming five minutes later, as she neared her office. She tensed, her hand going to her wand automatically, before she remembered herself and stopped the motion. Her caution was abandoned almost immediately after, when she heard the person whistling. Minerva even recognized the tune after a moment, and nearly laughed. Gille Calum, an old Gaelic song, was traditionally a sword dance. Bran had attempted his own rendition of it when Minerva was eight, and had nearly impaled himself.

Sure enough, Bran rounded the corner, a grin lighting his face at the sight of his sister. 'Little Min! I was hoping to find you soon. I'm afraid I'm rather in danger of loss of feeling in my feet. It is a big castle, isn't it?' Minerva noticed a small crowd of students, who had evidently followed her brother to see who was. Minerva did not appreciate being called by her childhood nickname in front of her students.

'You're terribly out of shape, I'm afraid,' Minerva told her brother dryly. 'And for the last time, Bran, don't call me that ridiculous name.' But Bran, as always, seemed to be immune to her irritation.

'Fair enough,' he replied cheerfully. 'Fancy a walk, little sister?'

'Yes, yes, alright,' Minerva snapped. 'Hurry along,' she barked at her students, who scattered, no doubt itching to tell their peers that Professor McGonagall's brother was at Hogwarts, calling her 'little Min'.

'So, how are you, dear Minerva?' Bran asked, once they were outside. Minerva eyed him with narrowed eyes.

'Suspicious of your oddly buoyant behaviour,' Minerva replied swiftly, regarding her brother as she would a mischievous student.

''Tis a sad world, indeed, when happiness is an irregular behaviour,' Bran quipped back, hiding a smile. A few students lazing on the front lawn eyed him curiously.

'Time heals not quite so fast,' Minerva countered.

Bran laughed and admitted defeat. 'Alright, then, have it your way.' He grinned at Minerva, but told her nothing. Truth be told, he'd run into Poppy this morning and asked after Minerva. Poppy had quickly confided what had happened the night before between Connor and Minerva. While Bran felt sorry for his sister for having to deal with it, privately he was very pleased that she had rebutted Connor's advances. Bran had never liked the bloke.

Bran also nursed some very private suspicious about Minerva and Dumbledore. While he'd never actually questioned Minerva on the subject, he did sense that the two were much closer than they appeared. He'd always thought that, given the chance, Minerva could be very happy with Dumbledore. But that chance had never happened, and Minerva, in her own unconscious way, was actually preventing opportunities. Bran decided to do something he'd sworn never to do: interfere.

'You know, Minerva, that's your problem,' he said to her suddenly, or so it seemed to Minerva.

'My problem?' she repeated. 'And what might that be?'

'You're far too selfless,' he told her. 'You need to stop doing things for others, and start doing things for yourself.' Minerva raised her eyebrows.

'You are encouraging me to be selfish,' she said, more of a statement than a question, but Bran answered anyway.

'Yes,' he replied cheerfully. 'You've done more than any one person can be reasonably expected to do. Start living your life for you.' It was perhaps an odd statement to make to a seventy-year-old, but Bran liked it nonetheless. The cat's among the pixies now, he thought with satisfaction. He looked up and suppressed a curse. McKinley was hurrying towards them.

Minerva had seen him as well. 'Perfect,' she muttered, her lips thinning. Connor came up to them.

'Good morning Professor McGonagall, Mr McGonagall,' he greeted them awkwardly. Minerva nodded stiffly, but Bran made no move to acknowledge the greeting. He appraised McKinley coldly.

'I wondered if I might have a word, Professor?' he asked Minerva courteously, quite obviously being careful with his use of her title instead of her first name. Minerva hesitated, finally sighing and nodding.

'Very well,' she said. 'Bran, will you be here later?' Bran frowned, but nodded.

'I'll meet you in your rooms later, Min,' he told her. He nodded stiffly to McKinley and departed. Minerva watched him go, almost feeling regretful. She would have appreciated his back up.

'Minerva,' Connor began with no preamble, 'I wish to keep this as short as possible, and I apologize for cutting into your time with your brother.' Minerva silently accepted the truth of his statement.

'Minerva, I wish to apologize for my inappropriate behaviour last night. It was very unprofessional of me, and what I said was entirely out of line. I never wished to hurt you, and I am sorry if I did.' Minerva still said nothing.

She couldn't very well tell Connor that it wasn't herself she was worried for; it was her friendship with Albus that was in jeopardy. Minerva really needed to watch her relationships, though admittedly this was the first time a sour one had come back to haunt her.

Finally, Minerva replied. 'I'm sure I don't have to tell you how disappointed I am,' she said brusquely, not looking at Connor. He shook his head, looking sheepish. 'And I'm sure it won't happen again,' she added, leaving the sentence open for him to finish.

'It won't, Minerva, I give you my word,' said Connor hastily. Minerva nodded, but was not yet satisfied. She would do the thing properly, or not at all.

'And Connor,' she said, 'you must understand that while you may have been in a slightly impaired state last night, I was not. I meant everything I said, you understand.' Connor hesitated, but finally nodded. Minerva hoped he accepted her refusal this time, and wouldn't track her down again in another fifty years.

Minerva took her leave of Connor and headed back inside. She wouldn't want life to be boring, Minerva told herself wryly, but was a little peace every now and then too much to ask?

TBC

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