Chapter 2: Harry and the McGonagall
Minerva McGonagall was sitting at her desk in her office preparing her lessons for the coming week when a loud crack sounded and Harry Potter and his house elf Kreacher suddenly were standing before her. She was, to say the least, quite startled to have one of her students just appear in front of her, without an appointment or any sort of warning that he would be coming to see her.
"Mister Potter, what is the meaning of this? Why have you taken it upon yourself to so forcefully and disrespect fully thrust yourself into my office?" An impatient scowl quickly stamped itself on her face.
Her glasses were sitting at the tip of her nose, as she looked over them, brows arched, to appraise her student and his diminutive friend. Harry laid the wands he had taken from his friends down in front of her. Kreacher quietly back stepped to a point where he could keep a watchful eye on the conversation of his master and the professor. He moved his arms forward to gather, crossed on his chest.
"Professor McGonagall, because of certain recent events, I have felt it necessary to come to you to sort out the problems in my life. I 'm sure that you are aware that a particular group of people, whom I would like to think are still my friends, decided this school year to scheme and connive to push me into an amorous liaison with the lovely Ginny Weasley." Harry shuffled his feat nervously and put his hands in his pockets. Minerva tried, unsuccessfully to stifle a smile. Then she took a deep breath and slowly regained her composure.
"They proceeded boldly and with cold-hearted calculation to try to ensnare me and pressure me to admit to having feelings for and then accept being the willing suitor to said Ginny Weasley." He turned away from her for a second to stare at a painting of what Harry thought might be some Scottish hill in the springtime, the heather bushes clearly in bloom. Why does my life always have to be so bloody complicated? Why could it be as simple as the life in this painting?
Harry turned and moved forward to stand at the very edge of her desk, gazing down at her with a confused visage. He leaned forward and brought his hands to rest on the edge of her desk. "It seems to me that they even enlisted your help in their complicated little schemes. After everything I went through to help our world, you would think I'd be able to just be allowed to live a normal life now. It disturbs me no end that people only see me as a puppet to be manipulated, instead of a human being with a mind and feelings, and my own ideas about how to live my life."
Harry respected his professor, but if she had been helping his friends, how was he to think her as any different than, say, professor Dumbledore or even Dolores Umbridge, both of whom had manipulated his life to some degree.
"You're a teacher and the head of my house, and as such, a mentor, someone those of us in your house should be able to give our trust and respect to. How am I to trust you now if you have been manipulating me, like so many have done in the past?" Harry shook his head and let out a slow exasperated sigh.
Minerva leaned back into her chair and also heaved a heavy sigh, clearly not happy with her choice to help Harry's friends.
Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort simply by his dogged determination to fulfill the prophecy of Madame Trelawney. It also seemed that that same determination had defeated the efforts of his friends to compel him to admit his feelings for Ginny Weasley. She had always had a special place in her heart for Harry. She had fought with Albus Dumbledore about leaving Harry with his Muggle relatives, and had paid secret visits to the Dursley's through the years, always returning to Hogwarts to berate the Headmaster for his lack of foresight and near indifference to Harry's plight.
Through all his years at Hogwarts, she had marveled at the way he seemed to thread his way around and over the many obstacles thrown at him along the way, with the shadow of the Dark Lord hovering over him like an antediluvian deity, maliciously intent on Harry's doom. With all the cards in his deck seemingly stacked against Harry, he had still become an honorable and worthy, kind hearted boy, who always stood up for his friends and had a high sense of morality.
He had lost so many people that were dear to him, and she could see how adversely it affected him, even dying himself in order to defeat the Dark Lord. Somehow, she suspected that some part of him was lost forever because of his experiences in this world.
She had hoped when she discovered his affection for Miss Weasley that by helping the conspirators, that she might be able to help Harry find some happiness, some peace within himself, but now, she was unsure as to whether he would ever find a pleasant accommodation with himself.
She would continue to do her best for him nonetheless, and with that thought she sat forward, back straight, and leaned both of her arms on her desk bringing the fingers of both of her hands together to intertwine.
"Has there been another of these incidents, Mr. Potter, to upset you enough for you to avail yourself of your house elf's particular magical talents to barge into my inner sanctum so abruptly?" she asked briskly, trying to calmly assess the situation. Clearly the pile of wands in front of her suggested failure on the part of his friends.
"There has indeed been another incident, Professor, and I am hoping that with your help it will be the last of these silly intrusions into my life. I've had quite enough adventure in my short time at Hogwarts to fill quite a few lifetimes, and I would just like to finish my time at Hogwarts, sit my N.E.W.T.s, and get on with some sort of life."
He leaned back up and let his arms fall to his side and his eyes closed and he turned to his right to face away from her again. When his eyes opened, he just focused on the floor in front of him.
"The Weasleys and Miss Granger locked me in a room and took away my wand, and then" he continued unhappily, "all the brothers proceeded to waltz in and threaten me with hexes, being fed to a dragon, being used as a test subject for any and all of certain devious twins potions and other products, as well as being told that Miss Granger would also be unleashed upon me presumably to harass me with logic and reason till my mind imploded. It was intimidating and unkind for people who are supposed to be my friends." He hesitated a moment.
"You know they care about you and worry about you, perhaps more than they should." She said in a soft even tone.
"I didn't feel as if they respected me. They had already decided what my life was going to be without even consulting me, or considering my opinion about this whole situation. My whole life has been a parade of people who were certain they knew what my life should be, forcing me to do and say what they want with little or no regard for me or my feelings. Now that Voldemort is gone, I need to have control over my own life, to be able to live it as I see fit." His head lifted and he gazed around her office quietly.
"And also," Harry hesitated, unsure of how to continue."I...." He finally turned to face her. "I wish Sirius or my mother and father were here to help me."
"Harry, Gryffindor is like a family and I am the head of that family. If there is any way I can help you please feel free to confide in me. You have my deepest apology for that earlier lapse of judgment. Please let me help you."
Harry looked back to his Head of House, unsure of where to begin and what to say at first. "I...." He began, then hesitated, then continued.
"I don't see myself being pushed into a relationship with any girl, let alone Ginny Weasley, no matter how much I might have feelings for her." Minerva could see that it was hard for him to easily convey his feelings.
"I'm sure there are plenty of great blokes out there that she could pick to be with. I--I'm a right mess. I'm not the kind of bloke that a beautiful warm and good natured angel like Ginny would or should ever be interested in." There was a slight blush spreading over his face and he looked away and down again.
"You're a very warm hearted and clever boy. Are you so sure Ginny could never have feelings for you?" she said hopefully, trying to encourage him.
"I'm not the clever one. Hermione was ever that. I'm just the one who seems to have a knack for getting out of sticky situations." Harry answered in an almost monotone voice.
"You obviously managed to escape their crass little artifice, or you would not be here. Might I be so bold as to inquire, what happened to the perpetrators of this scheme, Harry?" Her words broke him from his reverie.
"My sincere and oh so devoted friends..... found the tables turned on them." he stopped a moment, trying to reconcile the anger he felt for his friends at the moment with the true feelings of friendship he still had for them. Why is it that Harry Potter, who is arguably a mature adult, can, whenever the situation presents itself, be treated like a small naïve child and pushed about by people who think they know what's 'in his own best interests'. Came the thought to his mind. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He continued still slightly peeved, but with a calmer air.
"I yelled for Kreacher to help me, and he popped in and bound them. I used the Silencio charm on them, and we left them locked in that room. Kreacher will also be on watch from now on to keep this kind of thing from happening again. He will tell you where they are before we leave and I will leave it up to you how to deal with them. I will not press charges, but they must not try this again." Harry turned to face the Professor. "And while we are speaking about this, I would like to ask you why you let yourself get involved with them?"
Minerva studied Harry's sorrowful eyes and the haggard visage he presented, with his rumpled hair and wrinkled clothing. Harry Potter was not a person who reveled in the victory that he, himself, had presented to the Wizarding world. He always seemed like someone who was in perpetual mourning for the people he had lost in the war, people he felt he had personally let die, because he had not dealt with Voldemort sooner than he had. It was obvious to most of the people at Hogwarts also that Harry Potter was seemingly smitten and desperately in love with Ginny Weasley.
"Mr. Potter..." She began in a brusque, but well meaning manner, then in a refined tenor continued. "Harry--it came to my attention, in a rather startling fashion, I might add, that you seem to possess.." she hesitated a moment, then went on. "Very--deep--feelings-- for a certain young lady, namely Ginny Weasley. The magnitude of said feelings can easily be witnessed by anyone should they but choose to peruse the scroll you recently handed into me for your assignment."
She reached over to a drawer at the top of her desk and pulled out a scroll and pushed it in front of him. Harry reached down and took the scroll and unrolled it. At first an uncertain look clouded his visage, and then, when he saw the words 'I love you Ginny" liberally include throughout the essay, he smiled and shook his head, as if to say, Okay, I get the joke.
"What is it they say? Foist on my own petard?"
Slowly Harry's gaze lifted to catch Professor McGonagall's eyes. "Between old Tom Riddle and me, we've made a right bloody mess of my life, wouldn't you say?" He threw the parchment back onto the desk.
"If you have these feelings for Ginny, shouldn't you say something to her about them?I mean that is the reason they've all been after you this last term, from what I gather. You've known her for quite some time now. Why have you held back from telling her?" Her expression had softened and Harry could tell that she was trying to help him and be an understanding friend, so he stood straight, took a deep breath, exhaled and tried to relax.
"I have not said anything, Professor, for two reasons. Firstly, as you say, I have known Ginny Weasley for quite some time. When she was very young she fell in love with Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. The problem with that is, that it was not me she was really in love with, it was the Boy Who Lived. I'm not the bloody Boy Who Lived, I'm just Harry."
"Then there was that business with the diary, and her pouring all of her feelings into it till Tom Riddle took control of her, and made her go down to the Chamber of Secrets. When I saved her life, she felt the horror of having been the near cause of my death, so she stayed away from me. I think that then she began to go from crush to outright hero worship." He stopped to shake his head a moment, then stopped as if to relive the memory, then he continued.
"She still could not talk to me and so she stayed away. There were, of course, always distractions for me: Malfoy, Professor Snape, Sirius, the Dementors, Remus, Pettigrew, Buckbeak, etc. So we never had a chance in all that time to come together to even be just friends. Then there was that damnable tournament. Hermione told me she gave up on me and decided that she had to go on with her life, so she did. She began to date other boys, and Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, became just another memory to shut away."
He turned away and began to walk about the room, clearly trying to shift his thoughts away from Ginny. "Slightly ironic, don't you think? I began to notice her right at the time she gives up on me. Right when I think I might be having feelings for her, she decides to give up on me. So you end up with both of us dismissing each other, rather offhandedly, and moving on. I wish more than anything we had really gotten to know each other as more than friends then, but friends is as close as we ever had a chance of being. At least she would talk to me."
He let his hands move behind his back and clasped them together. and began to slowly pace in front of the desk. "I'm sure you've heard by now about Cho, and that it was a disaster pretty much from the get-go. Then there was just a parade so many unfortunate circumstances that led to the Department of Mysteries, and the prophecy, and Sirius, of course, dying because of me."
"You were not to blame for that, Harry. Voldemort..." She quickly stopped. Harry stopped suddenly and turned to face her.
"Four people were to blame that evening. Voldemort, Kreacher, Sirius, and me. We all played our parts to a tee, and so it happens that I lose someone else that, to me, I really couldn't abide losing."
Minerva turned her eyes toward Kreacher for a moment and Kreacher bowed his head, uncomfortable at her scrutiny. He relaxed somewhat as the professor looked back at Harry and raised his head again to keep his quiet vigil.
Minerva could see that his eyes were beginning to well with tears.
"Of course every one of my friends was injured as well, including Ginny. It was my fault that we went there at all, it was my fault that I allowed them to go with me, and therefore it was my fault that they were hurt." He closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath and let it out, then slowly opened his eyes and focused on Professor McGonagall again.
"Through it all, though, it meant that eventually all of these people became closer to me, especially Ginny. And that was when I understood that what I had felt for her before was becoming so much deeper. But, as I said, she had moved on to other boys. My sixth year I became too involved with Professor Dumbledore and Tom Riddle's Horcruxes, so we didn't get to pursue even what little friendship we had. She had Dean Thomas, while I had the noble quest to slay the great evil beast Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort." He let out a quiet chuckle, then just gazed at the headmistress for a moment, before continuing.
"Of course Ron, Hermione and myself did just that. We rounded up the Horcruxes and destroyed them, came back to Hogwarts, fought the bloody insane great last battle, and that, as they say, was that. We should not forget that many people died along the way. During the battle, Percy and Fred Weasley nearly bought it, but in the end, we all were finally rid of one really foul git of a dark lord."
He unclasped his hands and let his left hand reach up to take off his glasses, as his
right hand moved up to rub his forehead then slowly slipped down to rub his eyes. He still had a slight headache and he had to concentrate to keep his mind clear on what he was saying to the professor. Then he put his glasses back on and both his hands rose up to run his fingers through his hair, and then let them fall casually.
"Don't you think, Harry, after all that you've been through that you deserve some happiness that she deserves to be happy. Couldn't you find some way to be happy together?" Minerva offered hopefully.
"I would certainly like to think that we will find some measure of happiness, someday, but not together. I can't see that she would feel that way about me, and even if she did, it wouldn't be right for her to be saddled with me. That would be the second reason that I would not tell her. I'm worn down, battered, and bruised. Just a left over, an ex-hero. I'm depressed and depressing; a has-been." Harry sighed, then continued.
"Kingsley wants me to join the Auror Corps and chase down the last of the dark wizards. Wouldn't that be a real wonderful life for Ginny? Me off on assignments or filling out paperwork at the ministry; I'd hardly ever see her. She needs some bloke who can be there for her. No, Professor, she was right to forget me. Somewhere, maybe outside Hogwarts when she finishes school, she'll find that wonderful bloke who'll love her, and look after her and make all her dreams come true, like I never could. As for me, I'll try to make the world she lives in a safe, beautiful place for her and her husband and their children."
He closed his eyes and his head dropped slightly, a tear running down his cheek.
"And you don't find that anything that your friends did would lead you to the choice you really want?" Minerva asked.
"No, Professor that was the choice they wanted me to make, not the choice that I wanted to make. Professor Dumbledore told me long ago that it's the choices we make, that makes us who or what we are. I've let people make choices for me for far too long now. From now on it's me that will be making the choices for me."
He turned to walk to her door.
"I'll leave you to make your choices as well, especially with regard to Hermione and the Weasleys."
He stopped as he came to her door. As he put his hand on the doorknob he spoke to Kreacher. "Please let Professor McGonagall know where my 'friends' are, Kreacher"
Then he opened the door. "I won't press any charges, as I said, if they just stop playing all these games with me."
Then Harry walked out the door, leaving it open. Kreacher had stood in the background before content to let his master vent his frustrations to the headmistress. Finally he moved to stand at the side of the headmistress desk. He stood with head held high, his arms falling from his chest to slink around behind his back and his hands clasped together waiting for the McGonagall to notice him. Finally Minerva turned he head to see the small elf near her. She wondered at the change that seemed to have come over the ancient curmudgeon like elf.
"You have the information I require to properly deal with Mr. Potter's abductors, do you not?" She asked with a wary eye.
"Yes Kreacher does. Kreacher also......" the old elf hesitated, bowing his head slightly, then standing straight again.
Minerva found it hard to be harsh with the elf suddenly, for some reason. She half smiled at him. "You have something to add to your master's narrative?" There was definitely something different about the little elf now that she looked closer.
"It is perhaps not being proper for a serving elf to be talking about his masters...." Kreacher hesitating a moment, as thoughts that he should punish himself came to his mind. Then he steeled himself and continued.
"Kreacher is serving the Ancient and Noble House of Black for nearly a hundred years. When he is began his service, the family of the House of Black, is not being so rigid in their ideas. They is seeing possibilities for bettering the family of the House and for bettering the wizarding world as well." The old elf stopped to cough and compose himself again.
"The two Dark Lords offered power and wealth and pulled the House of Black into the web of greed for position and power lust and deceit and the fanaticism for purity of blood. Kreacher is seeing now thats the nobility of the House of Black was abandoned long ago." Kreacher hung his head a moment. A frown etched itself on his face. Then he raised his head again a tears slowly trickling down one cheek.
"Those who served the Blacks is being just as guilty as they. It is fitting maybe that Kreacher is the last servant of the Blacks. Kreacher remembers the better times. The new Master of the Ancient and Noble House of Black is bringing back the nobility to the House. Kreacher is proud to serve his new master and is saddened that Master Harry's friends does not respect his new master. Kreacher will be a loyal and true servant to his master." Kreacher looked directly into Minerva's eyes.
"It is good to know that Harry has someone who will look after him. Thank you for that, Kreacher." She sighed heavily, closed her eyes and turned to sit back in her chair.
"It is not being an easy task, headmistress, for either of us. Someone once said-'It is easy to go down into hell; night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide; but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air – there's the rub, the task. We is both, Master Harry more so than his servant, trying to come back to what could have been and might yet be." Kreacher closed his eyes and turned away from the professor. As his eyes blinked open they looked to the door where Master Harry had exited. Kreacher will find a way to help his master, Harry Potter, who is being the greatest wizard ever, he thought, suddenly buoyant.
"I am certain if you both apply yourselves, you will find what it is you want from this life." Minerva said with an encouraging voice.
"The overzealous friends," the old elf began, suddenly remembering his last duty here. "is in the second guest room on the fifth floor." The elf said moving to leave. He stopped short for a moment though. They is his friends. Kreacher thought. It is not for Kreacher to judge. He must try to be a better elf. They cares for Master Harry, like Kreacher does.
"Treat the friends with a firm hand, headmistress." he said quickly. "A firm and a just hand. Kreacher believes it is what Master Harry would do. It is what this world needs now, a firm hand tempered with justice and compassion. We is forgetting what is was for awhile. It is time we is remembering again." then with a crack, he was gone as well.
Minerva shook her head and opened her eyes, amazed at the old elf. If a bitter old elf could change she thought, there might be hope for many others.
She leaned forward and settled her elbows on the desk then resignedly allowed her head to move down to be held in her hands, absentmindedly massaging her temples.
At no time since Harry Potter came to Hogwarts had his life ever been a simple straight walk down a quiet lane. Her life hadn't been either, for that matter. Harry's journey, it seemed was always meant to be the long and winding road, like an old Muggle song suggested. Minerva had been traveling along with Harry longer than most, and now here she was at another bend in his road. She sighed sadly.
Now she would have to go and confront the conspirators, who she was not at all pleased with at the moment. A student of Hogwarts had been rudely taken against his own will and threatened, that unless he chose to pursue a specific action as dictated by the conspirators his life might become completely untenable.
Had they succeeded, Minerva would have readily given her blessing to the happy couple that should have been the outcome of the scheme, and turned a blind eye to its mechanism. Now that the scheme had failed and Harry looked to her, as Head of his house, to be the firm hand of jurisprudence, she must regrettably act accordingly, yet she thought about what the ancient little elf had said about justice and compassion.
She lifted her head and pushed her chair back from the desk and stood looking at the door in front of her that Harry had left open. Then she looked back to the wands on her desk and a sad smile lit her countenance for a moment and she collected the wands in her left hand.
She was slightly hesitant at first about her course of action. Her duty was clearer in her mind. She straightened her back and shoulders, tilted her head up just a touch and proceeded through the portal drawing the door closed behind her and advanced down the corridor with a quiet yet steady gate.