CHAPTER 3

October 7th 1971

Lily Evans

Over the following weeks, Helene and I became as thick as thieves. She was welcomed with open arms into our little group and life became very enjoyable. The boys, more commonly known as the marauders, were the apprentices of the sixth year trouble-makers. Wherever they went there was a faint whiff of stink pellets trailing behind them, or teeth marks in the walls from their latest incident with a Fanged Frisbee. Helene and I were known as the inseparable pair; we barely left each other's sides. Upon finally arriving back at our dormitory later that day, the first thing we did was to push our beds together, so that they were side by side. This proved slightly tricky at first as neither of us were strapping young wizards, but after enough sweat was shed to fill the Black Lake, Helene had the sense to use a well executed levitation spell that she had mastered earlier on that day in Charms. That night, we lay next to each other, hand in hand and just poured our hearts out. We talked about everything and nothing, our homes, family, friends, hobbies, interests and soon enough it was as we had known one another since the dawn of time. Our eyelids grew heavy and sleep engulfed us as we watched the glowing embers of the fire slowly sizzle into unconsciousness.

As expected Helene did more than excel in every lesson, she absorbed every miniscule piece of information like a sponge. She had the teachers worshiping the ground she walked on, much to the annoyance of the Slytherins. The only lesson anyone gave her a run for her Galleons was Potions. Apparently I had a certain flare for the subject, or at least that's what Professor Slughorn had said. Any free moment that I had to myself was spent pouring over advanced alchemy books, attempting to fill my mind with the recipes until it felt fit to burst.

Yes, if I was sure about one thing, it was that life was good… for now.

Minerva McGonagall

The initial weeks of the first term had always been the most relaxing; any prospects of future examinations were pushed deep into the murky depths of the students' brains. I observed my first years with a watchful eye, not letting them slip out of my glance for more than a few hours at a time. Potter and Black had already caused me enough trouble for a life time, I was still removing flecks of ash from my hair after one of their Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous fireworks had become slightly out control the previous week. The tapestry of Ilwhich the Incompetent would never be the same.

I packed up my apparatus after a particularly disastrous lesson with the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years, fanaticising the rest of my evening which would involve sitting by my fire, with a fragrant cup of jasmine tea and the most recent issue of 'Transfiguration Today'. I looked up briefly to observe the student in front of me who was gathering up her books in her arms. I had become rather fond of Helene over the past month, her skills never failing to astound me and her dry sense of humour always putting a smile on my face. She reminded me vaguely of my much younger self, her hair always pinned to perfection and her textbooks organised in the order of which she would need them. As she turned around to walk out of the door, she was approached by two of her fellow classmates, both from Slytherin. They threw each other a menacing look before promptly bumping into her, resulting in all of her books to cascade onto the floor.

"Would you both watch where you're going please, books tend to be heavy and I would rather if they didn't end up on my feet." She exclaimed. If this had been said to a stranger it would have been deemed as extremely rude, however it was common knowledge that the Slytherins were trying to make Helene's life as difficult as possible.

"We were well aware of where we were going, know-it-all" The blonde one replied.

The corners of her mouth twitched, almost as if she found his remark humorous. "Is that so? Well, maybe if you had been able to complete your transformation of a needle to a compass you would have a better sense of direction." Helene barely had time to react before she had been thrown to the floor and I came rushing to her aid.

"What on earth do you think you're doing? No one has the right to attack a fellow student, especially in a classroom. Explain yourselves!"I exclaimed. It was evident from the expression painted across their faces they had not expected me to react in such a way. Their eyes shone with fear and their gazes fell upon the floor.

"Well, you see Professor… I mean… you can't honestly think that she's thinking of all of this stuff on her own and, you see, she should be put in her place" replied the other, slightly plumper of the two.

"No Mr Elliott, I do not see and it is not up to you to dictate what I 'honestly think'. Just because another student happens to be more intelligent than you, which in this case is by no means difficult, does not mean they are cheating. Now, I shall see both of you in my office at seven o'clock sharp, where you will serve your detention. 50 points will be taking from Slytherin and I would like you to apologise to Miss Clearwater immediately". By this point Helen had already lifted herself up off the floor and was collecting her books, in an attempt to redeem herself, however there was an unmistakable wounded look on her face and it nearly broke my heart. The Slytherins muttered something vaguely resembling a 'sorry' and swiftly left the room.

She turned around completely in order to face me properly, by which point salty tears leaked from her now glistening eyes and created tracks on her rosy cheeks. She said faintly under her breath "Thanks Professor". I don't know whether it was the gentle tone of her voice or the genuine look in her eyes, but through those two simple words she reminded me what it was like to be a young witch, only eleven years old. I walked towards her and enveloped her in my embrace, eager to protect the child in my arms. "But you know, I could have hexed them into next week." I chuckled slightly under my breath, for it was something I had heard myself say many a time.

"Would you like me to show you something?"

Helene Clearwater

It turned out that 'something' was Professor McGonagall's personal library, a safe haven for readers alike. Three of the walls in her sitting room were lined from floor to ceiling with hundreds, if not thousands of literary works, novels and school books. On the other wall was an enormous stone fireplace, engraved with the Gryffindor crest. Above hung a 15th century mirror, carefully fashioned to bear the words 'traeht aevar behtr ofror rima'. In the centre of the room was an oak coffee, holding yet more books. One sofa adorned with crimson and gold cushion and two similar armchairs surrounded it. I ran my hands over the thick leather binds of the books: they felt soft as they caressed my fingers. Never in my life had I imagined a place so peaceful.

"How can you ever leave?" I couldn't help but ask, already envisioning my future living room and how similar it would be.

"Sometimes with great difficultly, but other times quite easily, for my students, such as yourself, make it worthwhile. Would you like a drink? I believe Professor Dumbledore left some hot chocolate in my kitchen from when he visited me last." I flashed her a wide smile and nodded my head enthusiastically before returning to the books. I selected a rather interesting looking one, again leather bound, but this time bearing the crest of the school. It was titled 'Hogwarts: A History'. I began to flick through the pages and soon enough my pores began to absorb every letter and my thoughts hung on every word. If it weren't for Professor McGonagall returning with the drinks I don't think I'd have ever been woken from my trance.

"Ah, I see you've found 'Hogwarts: A History'. One of my personal favourites, although I suppose they all are really. Albus often said that being asked to define one's favourite book is like choosing one's favourite child." The way she talked about books made them seem as if they had souls. I came to realise that people had been both wrong and right about Minerva McGonagall. Yes, she was stern and didn't take any nonsense. She did not tolerate idiots and they did not tolerate her. But, no one had ever told me much beyond that. I was never informed that not only did she need food and water to fuel her body, but also passion. That in her eyes history, literature and art were not only a means of passing the time, but a lifestyle. She did not only teach transfiguration, but she taught life and that is not something that many people can say.

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