AN: Over 400 reviews! WooooHoooo! Y'all are awesome. Back from an amazing trip to England & Scotland. What gorgeous countryside! With my sweet Tanith by my side, met MirandaMinerva in Edinburgh and Jinty in Glasgow. Shared a meal and lots of laughter. Somehow, after meeting these special ladies the world seems just a wee bit smaller.
I watched the movie "Dogma" and immediately the Funkiphyles sprang to life in my slightly warped imagination.
THE TIES THAT BIND
Chapter 30
A MIX OF MUGGLE & MAGIC
Jean Granger wiped her hands on the sterile cloth sighing, "I guess that's all we can do for now?"
Her companion looked up from the cateloging Hermione's impressive potions stores. To say Poppy Pomfrey was impressed would be such an understatement. She gave Jean a wan smile and replied, "For now. Based on my experiences with Minerva going into battle, I'd be safe to say she's going to be quite bloody when she shows up."
Jean frowned uncertainly, "If she shows up."
Poppy shook her head, "No dear... When she shows up. Minerva is quite the warrior. This time she's fighting for her family. She'll be back." There was such finality in the mediwitch's statement that Jean felt slightly better.
Poppy moved into another storage room adjacent to the one they were just in. This one was filled with an assortment of muggle medical devices. Things that Poppy had heard of but never had the good fortune to see. Till now.
Jean followed the older witch into the room and smiled as Poppy moved from piece to piece. Examining, touching, wondering at the ingeniousness of some of the items. Hermione's mother shrugged her shoulders and said, "I guess this is our way of compensating for not having magic."
Poppy grinned, her faded blue eyes twinkling, "This is a different kind of magic."
Their conversation was interrupted by an insistent banging on the front door of the clinic. Both women glanced at each other, then bolted for the reception area to find Ron Weasley's face pressed up against the small glass window in the door. Hermione had insisted on having the solid wood door altered to allow a bit of natural light into the reception area.
Jean smiled at the young man at the door. Opening it, she said, "What a thing to see pressed into the glass. Dawn just cleaned that window yesterday."
The red haired man grinned sheepishly, "I'm sorry. I was looking for Dawn?"
The expression on Jean's lovely face immediately alerted Ron that something was amiss, "What's going on?"
Poppy reached out a kind hand. With a tender grip, she guided the tall man to a nearby seat, "It's a bit of a long story."
Sitting beside him, Poppy noticed Jean take the seat on the other side of him and clasp his large hand in her smaller one. Clearing her throat, she told the young man of the events leading up to where they were right now.
A crack of thunder startled the three people in the clinic. Rushing outside, they saw Candi Barr supporting a very badly wounded Dumbledore. The elderly wizard's normally brightly colored robes were torn and streaked with dirt, blood and clumps of long blonde hair. His normally serene face was white with pain. The elderly wizard's hair and beard were caked with mud. Somewhere he'd lost his cap and he reeked of shite.
"Albus!" Poppy exclaimed, her voice laced with deep concern. The witch moved to his side noticing that he was favoring his left leg. Her nose crinkled at getting a whiff of his pungentness.
"We ran into..." He began, hissing in pain. Once the pang had subsided, he continued, "A bit of trouble."
Poppy and Candi helped Dumbledore to the clinic door and were just about to open it when a screech sounded from the end of the street.
"DUMBLES????"
Jean turned to see Cornelius Honeyduke trotting down the street flapping about like a great offended goose. His purple garb liberally laced with powdered sugar. The bald candy maker ran like such a...
"What a poof he is." Candi muttered, rolling her eyes.
Dumbledore frowned and in a painful weeze, replied, "He's my poof."
Chastised, Candi snorted, "Sure. Come on, we need to get you inside."
Poppy nodded her agreement and the three of them made their way inside.
Jean was about to follow when Doodleberry appeared with Dawn at his side. The young elf was holding a limp Izer in his arms. The dark haired woman's heart went out to the elf as she saw golden eyes drip huge tears down a sweet elvish face.
Dawn knelt down to face the young elf, "How can I help?"
The young woman was spent beyond her limits but somehow had found the grit to push herself on. Her sandy brown hair stood on end and was caked with exploded Funkiphyle. Her face was soot covered and streaked with lighter colors where tears had washed some of the muck away. Her clothing was bloodied and torn. Her hands shook while still gripping the frying pan. Yet despite her obvious distress, her mocha eyes glimmered with compassion and love for the tiny creature before her.
Doodleberry smiled up at the brave young woman. For a fleeting moment he marvelled at what a formidable Gryffindor witch she would've been had fate gifted her the same way it had gifted her extraordinary older sister. He sighed and gripped his papa tighter, "Elf magics be what papa needs."
She nodded and stood, "Go then. Take care of your papa."
The elf nodded gratefully and disappeared with a pop.
"Dawn??"
The young woman turned to see Ron standing before her, a look of disbelief on his face as he took in her appearance. She shot him a rueful look and said, "Yeah I know... I look like something Minerva might drag in when she's a cat."
The red haired man's eyes crinkled at her humor. His clear blue eyes filled with moisture that he tried to wipe away.
"Got something in your eye do ya?" The young woman gently teased as she stepped into his embrace. Feeling strong arms wrap around her, she did something she had been holding back.
Dawn Granger burst into tears.
Jean gazed at her youngest daughter. Seeing the young woman being comforted by the tall red haired wizard made her realize that perhaps she wasn't the most important influence in Dawn's life anymore. Her little girl was growing up in a big way. Jean was so very proud of the way Dawn had stepped up and bravely faced powers she knew little about. With ferocious bravery and fierce determination the young woman had proved her mettle that day. Tears trickled down the lovely muggle's face as she watched the young couple exchange a tiny kiss.
The young man and woman parted suddenly as the clap of apparation sounded once more.
George Weasley stood with Hermione cradled in his arms. The red haired man was sliced in dozens of places. Blood soaked, dirt covered, trembling in obvious pain but supremely dedicated to making sure the witch in his arms made it to medical care.
He looked to his brother and said, "A bit of help would be nice right about now." His legs were giving out.
In a split second Ron was relieving him of his burden.
"Thanks mate." His brother whispered as he collapsed to his knees. Darkness closed in and he crumbled to the street unconscious.
"George!" Ron exclaimed in horror. He'd witnessed the death of Fred, he didn't want to see George's passing as well.
"Take her inside!" Dawn ordered her boyfriend. "I'll make sure he gets in." She added when she saw Ron hesitate.
Nodding, the red haired man disappeared inside the clinic just as another thunderclap sounded and Rolanda Hooch appeared with Minerva in her arms. Jean's eyes widened as she took in her battle worn daughter-in-law.
She was abruptly pushed aside as Candi Barr flew out of the clinic and down into the street where George lay in an unconscious heap.
Frowning, she shot the young woman a withering glare, then turned to Rolanda.
Minerva McGonagall was a mess.
Dressed in an odd conglomeration of muggle and magic. A sleeveless black leather jerkin laced with the tartan of her clan. Sliced open at the belly displaying the bloody laceration across Minerva's normally impressive abdominal muscles. The Headmistress' muscular arms were bruised and streaked with dried dirty sweat. At her waist, sheathed in a darkened scabbard was the McGonagall family sword. It dangled quite harmlessly. A far cry from the events that had taken place only a short time ago.
Jean's mocha eyes displayed a moment of mirth at the blue jeans the older witch was clad in. She smiled at the obvious muggle influence in Minerva's choice of battle garb. A frown appeared as she saw the deep slice above Minerva's left knee. Blood had soaked the lower left leg of the jeans.
The older witch's hair had come out of it's customary bun and was tangled this way and that. It fell over Rolanda's arms in an unruly mass. There appeared to be twigs and leaves stuck in her mane as well. The Headmistress' face had a gash above her right eye that had leaked blood down the side of the ebony haired witch's elegant face. A face that looked anything but elegant at the moment. The high cheekbones were smudged with dried blood and sweat. Dirt stained the determined chin and proud brow of the powerful witch.
Even unconscious Minerva McGonagall was formidable.
Dumbledore's lip trembled as he tried to suppress the stinging pain pulsing through his lacerated thigh. He frowned as he remembered Dawn telling him he had chicken legs. A thick eyebrow raised as he recalled how the young woman had comported herself during the battle.
Despite his pain, Dumbledore smiled.
"There you are!"
The elderly wizard looked up to see Corny standing in the doorway. The tall American was covered in a white powdery substance, "What is that you're covered in?"
The candy maker looked down at himself. Shrugging, he grinned, "Sugar. What else?"
Albus chuckled softly abruptly stopping and hissing as a wave of pain stung a bit.
"Let me get someone." Corny muttered, concern lacing his normally jovial features.
"No!"
The candy maker turned in surprise. A question in his dark eyes.
"There are others in greater need than I."
"Yes, but your help is needed." Poppy muttered as she stepped into the room. She shot the American a sharp look and made shooing motions with her hands, "Scoot. I need to take care of him."
Corny threw a wink at Albus and left the room.
Poppy brandished her wand and whispered Hermione's diagnostic charm. Immediately a graph appeared above Dumbledore's head displaying the condition of his body both inside and out in quite graphic detail. The mediwitch could make out various cuts and abrasions. A deep bruise to the elderly wizard's liver was revealed.
"You've had some internal bruising and judging from the dried blood around your mouth I'd say some internal bleeding as well. It seems to have stopped though."
Poppy moved to a nearby cabinet. Opening it with a spell Hermione taught her, she perused the stock of potions. Finding what she was looking for, she unscrewed the cap and handed the bottle to the older man, "Drink this."
Complying, Albus tipped the bottle to his lips with a grimace in anticipation of the vile taste potions of this sort usually produced. As the smooth pink fluid passed over his taste buds, he was surprised at the hint of strawberry he was tasting.
His surprise must've been evident because Poppy said with a crooked smile, "Hermione puts flavoring in her potions. It makes them a bit more appealing I suppose." There was a tiny note of disapproval in her voice. As is making potions taste good was a medical sin or something.
The elderly wizard nodded saying, "It certainly makes you want to consume the potion rather than spit it out." He could feel the magical fluid coursing throughout his body. It's warmth making his innards tingle. Gradually the ache he'd been feeling in his tummy area disappeared.
Poppy had been staring at the floating graph and saw that his body was healing internally. His thigh would have to be healed externally however. She held her wand above the wound moving it in a slow figure eight pattern. The tip of her wand glowed an intense red as an arc of golden healing magic leapt away from Poppy's unicorn hair wand and settled over the ugly tear in the elderly wizard's thigh muscle.
Dumbledore grimaced, feeling his leg wound begin to seal as the healing magic coursed back and forth over the deep gash. Only a few moments had passed but to Albus it seemed like an eternity, "When will this stop hurting?" He meekly asked as a child would.
Poppy snorted, "And you're supposed to be the most powerful wizard in the world?"
Albus bristled, "I fail to see the correlation of one to the other."
"She means stop being such a wuss and buck up."
Both mediwitch and patient turned to see Rolanda Hooch peeking in the door.
Dumbledore gasped, "What would you have done if I were sitting here naked?!" There was such indignation in the elderly wizard's normally serene voice.
Hooch grinned, "That's easy... I'd have laughed!"
Poppy bit her jaw as laughter threatened to bubble over. Closing her eyes, she took a calming breath and asked, "What do you want?"
The Flying Instructor snickered at the mediwitch's efforts to keep from bursting into laughter, "Jean sent me. She said to tell you that they've gotten Hermione sorted as much as they can."
Poppy's nostrils flared as she smelled something putrid wafting off of Hooch, "You stink Rolanda."
Dumbledore piped up, "Yes you do!"
The witch turned to her patient, "So do you. What were you doing? Rolling around in dragon dung?"
Hooch smirked as she remembered plowing through the Malfoy Funkiphyle, "Something like that." There was a sudden serious expression that clouded her piercing yellow eyes as she added, "You need to attend to Minerva. She's a mess."
Minerva McGonagall's proud brow was creased as dark eyebrows knit together. Even unconscious, the Headmistress' body seemed focused on being as close to her mate as possible.
She was lying on an examining table a few paces from her wife. They'd tried placing her in a separate room but her vital signs shot off the scale when that had happened. Her breathing came perilously close to hyperventilation and her heart rate raced as if she'd been running up and down mountains.
Poppy stood before her friend. Her head cocked to the side as she read the floating diagnostic graphs above Hermione and Minerva.
Jean Granger stood next to the mediwitch looking at the same thing. The graph was easy for both of them to read. Hermione had designed it that way. Seeing Minerva's still elevated heart rate, she grinned as an epiphany struck.
"Let's place her bed right up against Hermione's." She saw Poppy's surprised face out of the corner of her eye and added, "I'm thinking that being able to touch Hermione, then Minerva might respond better."
Poppy nodded, comprehension dawning over her tired features, "You're thinking that their bonding magic might click in?"
Jean grinned, "Well I don't know much about the magic part. I was thinking about the love part."
Poppy's eyes clouded with tears as she helped the other woman position Minerva's examination bed flush against Hermione's. Immediately the medical graph displayed a dramatic drop in the Headmistress' heart rate.
"Love can move mountains." Jean whispered as her mocha eyes teared up as well.
"Maybe it will bring them back to us." Poppy said softly, placing a comforting arm around the other woman's shoulder.
A moment later, both mediwitch and muggle dentist set to taking care of Minerva's wounds.
Ron Weasley had steered his girlfriend into yet another examination room. He was beginning to think that Hermione had managed to charm her clinic in such a way as to mimic the room of requirement. As something was needed, such as another exam room... it appeared! Hermione's magical prowess once again staggered the young man.
He softly closed and locked the door, then turned to see Dawn standing with her back to him. Her arms hugging herself tightly. As if almost afraid to let go. In her right hand, she still clasped the frying pan.
He stepped behind her and took the pan from her hand, "Let me put this aside."
She let go, not turning and said, "Be careful. That thing saved my life a few times today."
The ginger haired man nodded with a smile, "I always knew you marched to the beat of your own drummer. Most witches use a wand. You use a frying pan."
Dawn whirled around, "I'm not a witch!" There was a gleam of anger in her dark eyes.
Ron shook his head, "Oh yes you are. Your magic is...." He paused searching for a word, "... different."
His answer got him a wry smirk from the young woman. The latter looked around a room she swore she'd never seen before, "You know I don't believe I've ever been in this room."
Grinning, Ron replied, "I don't doubt it. I think 'Mione's charmed this place to provide what's needed at any particular time." He indicated a doorway that had just appeared.
Dawn opened it to reveal a very large ensuite complete with oversized sunken tub, double bowl sink, bright lighting and a marble tiled shower that looked like it would fit an entire football team. She stepped into the room and looked around, "Wow."
Ron followed, wrinkling his nose at the smell drifting off of Dawn, "Baby?"
The slim young woman turned in question, "Yes?"
Running a hand through his shoulder length red hair, he stated, "I hate to tell you this, but you really stink."
Dawn arched an eyebrow, "Way to charm a girl Ron." She walked to the corner shower, opened the opaque glass doors and peered inside. Spying the controls, she turned the water on, adjusting the temperature. When satisfied with the proper heat of the water, she stepped out and turned to her boyfriend. There was a long silence before she said, "Join me?"
Blue eyes widened.
Dawn's eyes teared up once more as she said, "I don't want to be alone right now and I need to feel you close." With that she began to unbutton her dirt streaked, torn blouse.
Ron swallowed convulsively feeling a twitch in his groin, "Are you sure?"
She nodded and held out her hands, "Please..."
He then realized that she didn't need or want sex. She just wanted closeness.
He would give her that.
Moving into her personal space, he leaned in and placed a sweet kiss on her trembling lips, "I love you."
"I love you too."
Large, but gentle hands opened the buttons on her blouse. Sliding it from her small shoulders, he laid it on a nearby counter and moved back to the young woman. Next he unfastened her jeans and slid them off slim hips. She held his shoulders as he helped her lift first one leg, then the other out of the dirty, foul smelling denim clothing.
The room produced a clothing hamper at that moment.
Smirking, the red haired man said, "I guess the room thinks you stink too."
"Shut up." Dawn growled almost playfully. She was standing before her boyfriend in her favorite pink lace knickers and bra. She could see his eyes darken briefly as he looked at her body.
Ron Weasley had never seen anything more beautiful. In spite of the scratches, bumps and awful bruising, Dawn Granger was stunning. Taller and slimmer with less pronounced curves than the voluptuous Hermione, Dawn was stately in her appearance. Much like Minerva, when he saw the Headmistress' body at Sanduvall Island*.
"You are beautiful." He whispered at her as she stepped forward and began undressing him.
Dawn was calm. Calmer than she'd ever been. Somehow the fear she felt sometimes when around other men had disappeared. Ron made her feel safe. She looked at his body. Bare to the waist, she took in the smooth, hairless chest and broad shoulders. He wasn't as cut as Harry was, but his musculature was still clearly defined. Ron was a big man.
The young man swallowed deeply as she unfastened his trousers, slid them down and revealed his very tented white boxers. His face flushed with embarrassment.
Dawn smiled at her boyfriend's discomfort, again feeling a wave of security wash over her. Ron would never hurt her. Sparkling dark eyes twinkled up at him, "I would've been mad if you didn't have a reaction."
"You don't mind?" He asked shyly.
She smiled and shook her head as she slid the boxers from his hips. His erect penis bobbed free. Dawn smiled as she gazed at his manhood. A whorl of dark red hair curled at his navel and travelled down to fan out at the base of the large organ. Yes he was big. Tucked underneath was his sac. Dark hairs sprinkling over it.
Ron felt a wave of relief as he watched his girlfriend look at his goods and not shrink back in fear. He knew that her past experience would haunt her for the rest of her life, and he decided that she would decide the when and the where.
He would NEVER force her.
He shuddered as he felt her cup his sac.
Dawn tore her gaze away from Ron's penis and looked up, "Did I hurt you?" She started to move her hand away.
"No love..." He replied, gently placing her exploring hand back over his sex, ".. you didn't hurt. It feels good."
Reassured, the young woman shot him a small smile. She could feel the steely hardness beneath the velvet soft skin of his erect manhood. Such a contradiction. Much like the man himself. Strength and softness all in the same package.
Strong hands, gently sliding around her back unfastened her bra. Her rose tipped nipples hardened in the air and at Ron's penetrating stare. Dawn's breasts were smaller than her mother's and definitely smaller than the ample breasts of her older sister but Ron didn't mind.
She was perfect.
He didn't want to touch her until she was ready, so he moved on to her knickers. Dipping his thumbs into the elastic at her hips, he carefully slid them down.
She trembled.
"Do you want me to leave?" He asked looking up into her eyes. He wouldn't look at her sex until she let him know it was ok.
Dawn nodded, "I'm ok. I've never felt safer than I do at this moment."
His eyes crinkled in amusement, "If you knew what was going through my mind right now, I don't think you'd feel so safe."
Chuckling, Dawn replied, "I know exactly what's going through your mind." With that, she placed her hands on either side of his face and gently urged his gaze to her womanhood.
She was exquisite! Ron marvelled as his loving gaze washed over her neatly trimmed sex. Dark brown curls formed a perfect V at the apex of her slim yet shapely thighs. He wanted to reach out and touch but again realized that this was not the time. Yes he was hard and yes he wanted to make love to her, but he would wait until she was ready.
Dawn would lead the way.
This time, however, she lead him into the shower saying, "I'll do your back if you do mine?"
Poppy and Jean had just begun to work on Minerva when the Headmistress moaned. Her elegant dark brow creased as she fought towards consciousness.
"She's coming around." Jean whispered as she watched Poppy clean and seal the wound on Minerva's belly.
Strong hands suddenly clenched the sheets of the examination table.
"Back away!" Poppy hissed pulling Jean back.
The muggle woman gasped, "Whut the..." Her dark eyes widened as she watched as Minerva's fingernails suddenly grew into claws that ripped into the sheets.
"She's still in combat mode." Poppy stated as Jean's watched, horrified.
The two women watched as Minerva's back arched. Her body rising off the bed and a deep, frightening growl erupted from suddenly bared canines. Fangs formed momentarily before disappearing into perfect white teeth.
Poppy took a deep breath and commanded in a firm voice, "Minerva be still!"
The older witch growled again, her head slowly turning to the side. The older witch's eyelids were flickering rapidly as consciousness was beginning to manifest itself.
In a gentler tone the mediwitch said, "Be easy Minerva. It's alright. Hermione is safe."
Enraged green eyes snapped open, "Hermione!" Minerva sat straight up and glanced wildly around the room, "Cade'? I gcas me?"** Her piercing gaze found her mate and instinct kicked in. The animagus lithely pulled her body into a protective crouch over her mate and unborn cubs, hissing warningly, "Fanacht ar shiul!"***
"Be easy Minerva. It's alright." Jean spoke in a soothing voice. She took a small step forward, "Hush now. It's alright." She calmed the older witch with the soft tone in her voice.
The Headmistress focused her angry gaze on Jean, a small glimmer of recognition dawning in the endless emerald depths,"Jean?"
The muggle woman nodded with a reassuring smile, "How do you feel?"
Minerva ignored the question and glanced down at her mate, "Hermione?" Tenderly she ran the tips of her fingers over the smooth, baby soft skin of her beautiful wife's cheek, "Du'isigh..."**** Her whispered plea was heartbreaking.
Dumbledore had just finished fastening a newly transfigured set of robes when he heard a light tap on the door. Looking up, he saw Corny peek around as the door opened, "Are you decent?"
Albus' whiskered face quirked up as a broad smile creased his lips, "Sadly, decent is all I've been these last few years."
The tall, bald American chuckled as he stepped into the room, "Well maybe I can change all that?" There was an ornery gleam in his chocolate eyes as he stepped before the elderly wizard and placed a tender kiss on surprised lips.
The candy maker let out a tiny giggle, "That tickles." He was referring to Dumbledore's long silver white beard.
Clear blue eyes twinkled with surprised joy at Corny's touch, "I'll shave it off if you don't like it."
Placing large beefy hands on his hips, Corny said in mock shock, "What? And remove one of Britain's landmarks? Dumbledore's beard is world renowned!" Gently, one of those large paws reached out and stroked the long hairs falling from the powerful wizard's chin.
"If it would make you happy, I'd do it." Albus said quietly as Corny gave him another sweet kiss.
"Oh God! Get a room will ya!"
Both men looked up to see Rolanda standing there gaping at them. The flying instructor was standing legs apart, fists on hips, grinning like an idiot.
"Do you mind?" Albus muttered indignantly.
Shaking her head, Rolanda answered, "This will have to wait. Minerva's awake and slightly... agitated."
The sound of breaking glass pulled Dawn, Ron, Albus, Corny and Rolanda out into the corridor.
"I will fecking burn him!!!"
The roaring of the Headmistress shook the clinic to it's foundation.
Dawn, Ron, Corny and Rolanda looked to Albus.
The elderly wizard rolled his eyes, "Merlin! What sissies!" He opened the door, ducking as a spell shot over his head.
"Dammit Tabby! Settle down!"
Minerva's angry eyes focused on her best wizard friend, "Albus..."
The bearded wizard stepped over to his friend taking in her wild appearance. Her jerkin was open from just below her breasts exposing the newly formed scar over her tight abdominals. Her jeans were ripped and blood stained below the left knee. The scabbard and sword hung low on her hip and her hair made her look like a banshee. She was standing over the examining table that held the body of her precious wife.
Holding up his hands in a nonthreatening manner, he asked, "Burn who?"
Minerva's upper lip curled maliciously, "Fecking Merlin! That's who. He is responsible for all of this!"
Hooch stepped next to Dumbledore saying, "I hate to say this Min, but Merlin's been dead for a thousand years."
There was a strange light burning in the Headmistress' deep green eyes, "Not quite." She closed her eyes and called, "Izer!"
A popping sound echoed thoughout the clinic as Minerva's elf appeared to his mistress. The tiny creature was haggard. His great golden eyes bloodshot and his bottom lip quivered.
Minerva's eyes clouded momentarily as she knelt on one knee, "I realize you are healing yourself and I am truly sorry this had to happen but I must ask you to bring Merlin to the entry hall. I MUST speak with him. Hermione's life depends on it."
The tiny creature nodded. If Lady-Miss's life depended on the master, then he would obey. Snapping his clawed fingers, he disappeared with another pop.
Dumbledore's eyes nearly bugged out, "You mean to tell me that Merlin is alive?"
Minerva frowned, "Not his body. His spirit resides in a portrait that's been kept in a locked chamber at the manor for nearly two centuries. My grandfather arranged it." She turned her burning gaze on Poppy and Jean, "Look after my wife. I shall return shortly."
"Where are you going?" Dawn asked stepping before her "big sister".
Minerva's eyes softened as they beheld the young woman. A young woman who fought as bravely as any of the others to protect Hermione. She reached out and cupped her "little sister's" chin, "I am going to petition Merlin for the cure to the Somnus Mortem. It was his spell that Mordred modified and if I know him as I do, he would have created a cure. I want it."
She turned to Albus, "Come with me."
He nodded and together they disappeared with a mighty clap of thunder.
Dawn rubbed her chin where Minerva had gripped her just moments ago, "Today would not be a good day to be a portrait at McGonagall Manor."
-to be continued
AN: *see chapters 8-11.
**"What? Where am I?"
***"Stay away!"
****"Wake up."
