Disclaimer: Have I mentioned yet that I'm not J.K. Rowling and I don't own Harry Potter. Oh, and an extra disclaimer here too. I don't own any of the movie characters I mentioned.
Minerva then turned on the spot and the pair soon appeared in the sitting room of McGonagall Manor. Annabelle stood and cradled her stomach for a moment as she leaned against Minerva. Her professor had kept her from stumbling to the ground upon impact and was still supporting her now. After a few painstaking seconds, Annabelle stumbled away from Minerva, only to realize that Minerva had her books and supplies still. "Professor, may I take my supplies up to m…the room?" Again, Annabelle had almost claimed the room, but caught herself just in time.
"Well, unless there's something I don't know about, then I don't believe you know how to enlarge your packages again." She then glanced at the cat cage, still holding her charge's kneazle. "Plus, you have a cat cage to carry up to your room, though I'd recommend releasing your kneazle first. She's free to roam the house the same as you." Minerva watched as the young witch knelt down and unlocked the cage. The cat immediately stalked out of the crate and began to sniff the air precariously. Now that Minerva saw the two side by side, she recognized the striking similarities between their eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that this was the perfect pair. McGonagall just hoped they wouldn't be troublesome together.
Annabelle picked up the metal cage and began to ascend the great staircase. At the top, she opened her door and set the crate down right inside. She then pulled the cat supplies out of her pocket and set the bundle down on her bed. Seeing Minerva walk in, she bit her lip nervously: feeling trapped, yet anxious at the same time. "Professor, would you mind enlarging my cat supplies as well?" Annabelle's kneazle had followed the pair into the room and was now finding a comfortable spot to sleep on the bed. The young witch smiled and reached out to pet her newfound friend when she realized she hadn't named the kneazle yet. "Oh, dear. What shall I call you?" She stroked the cat's head and smiled as it began to purr again. "Could I call you Ariel, or maybe Thumbelina?" She began suggesting the names of movie characters sighed as the kneazle refused to respond to anything.
Out of nowhere, Minerva piped up. The whole time her charge had been speaking, one name kept coming to mind. "What about Sylvanna? You can call her Sylvi or Sylvia for short." As Minerva could have only guessed, the kneazle's ears perked at the mention of the name and her purring grew exponentially.
Annabelle picked up on her sudden reaction and stroked her head again. "Is that your name, Sylvanna?" When the cat continued to purr, the witch conceded. Sylvanna she would be.
Seeing that all her belongings were enlarged and put away, Annabelle made her way downstairs, followed closely by Minerva and Sylvanna.
All three settled onto a couch in the study and the witches began to read while Sylvanna nestled in Annabelle's lap. When Albus returned from his day at Hogwarts, his only surprise was the kneazle. He had expected to find the witches reading in the study, without a cat. The only cat he ever expected to see was his wife in her animagus form. Now, he had two of them to deal with. That night, he pretended to be annoyed, but also began to pamper the kitten at every given opportunity.
The rest of the week followed in a similar manor, with the witches spending the day together, either reading or playing muggle chess. Albus would leave in the morning after breakfast, but would always arrive home in time for dinner. Every night, the quartet settled into the study and spent a few hours reading before heading their separate ways to bed.
Annabelle kept a safe distance between herself and the adults. Though she was learning to trust them, she didn't want to get in over her head. She still startled at slight touches, but found herself growing accustom to them as the days wore on.
Minerva found herself quickly opening up to this young girl and surprising even herself with how often she reached out to the child. All too often, she found her hand on the girl's shoulder or caressing her hair as she walked by. It seemed perfectly normal until the younger witch would flinch away.
August 31st arrived quicker than any of them expected and they found themselves reading in the study, each entranced in their own book. As the clock struck ten, Albus decided it was time to turn in, but was simply met with a groan from Minerva, telling him that she wasn't done reading yet. She had two chapters in her book left, and she was not moving from her spot until she was done.
Annabelle nodded her agreement and continued reading as the wizard left them alone. However, the younger witch couldn't concentrate on her book any longer. She found herself getting nervous about going to Hogwarts.
What if she became a Slytherin? Belle had quickly learned that Slytherin was one of two houses that she'd be ashamed of being in. Professor McGonagall especially didn't like Slytherin though, and this fueled her fear even further. Even though the witch didn't want to be a Hufflepuff, she could handle it in the end. She thought she'd probably become a Ravenclaw because she'd always had a knack for learning things quicker than others. Her teachers always told her how bright she was and she hoped that Hogwarts wouldn't be any different. Gryffindor was Professor McGonagall's house, but that required bravery according to Hogwarts, a History. By no means did Annabelle believe herself to be brave.
What would it be like to live at Hogwarts? She looked forward to the opportunity to be away from her parents for such a stretch of time, but she feared that she might just miss them. As horrible as they were to her, they were all she'd ever known. Annabelle knew that what they did to her was wrong, but she couldn't help but love them anyway. After all, they had raised her. They provided for her for eleven years. That had to say something in and of itself, right?
However, a little voice in the back of her head told her that as wrong. They only ever provided enough to keep her alive, not to keep her healthy. They didn't care if she suffered along the way. Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore had already proven to be better providers in a week's time. That said something.
Annabelle found herself staring at a certain green eyed cat and raised an eyebrow. It seemed to be telling her something, but she couldn't quite tell what it wanted. It kept looking between Minerva and Annabelle in a fashion, akin to being annoyed.
Finally, Annabelle forced herself to glance at her professor and found she wasn't the only one distracted from her book. Her professor seemed to be staring off into space and the younger witch could only imagine why. Carefully, Annabelle decided to move closer and laid her hand on the witch's forearm, initiating contact, and apparently breaking the spell on Minerva.
"Yes, Miss Wyte? Is something the matter?" Minerva still seemed quite distracted, but at least her eyes were back to normal instead of being large, glassy orbs.
"No, Professor. I was just…" She trailed off, unsure of whether it would be appropriate to inquire any further.
"You were what, lass?" Minerva was patient with the child, but she was beginning to slowly grow frustrated with her habit of starting a sentence without finishing it.
"You seemed distracted and I was wondering why." Minerva's face seemed to contort in shock and Annabelle felt herself becoming smaller. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be nosy. Really, I'm sorry." She started to scoot away from the elder witch again when Minerva pulled her closer, effectively stopping her from getting away.
Now, Annabelle was unsure whether to be comforted by the movement, or scared out of her mind. The older witch was much stronger than she was and this certainly scared her, but, at the same time, her firm grip was comforting. She felt herself slowly ease into the embrace and leaned against Minerva.
Minerva tried to decide what to tell her young charge. She certainly couldn't tell her that she was wishing they were a proper family. She could tell her a partial truth though. She had been thinking about Hogwarts and what would occur once they were back on school grounds. Things would, after all, be very different. She felt the young witch begin to relax and decided now was as good a time as any to begin explaining. "I was imagining how life would be once term started. Course work will have me busy almost every night. I won't be able to relax like this every night. I'll be surrounded by children and staff members, some of whom care about me while others don't." The professor began to shrug when she realized that her charge's head was leaned against her shoulder. Surely, that would be uncomfortable for the young girl. "Being a strict teacher often means that I am resented by many students and even some teachers. It's simply how it is. Now, what distracted you from your book before you noticed me? Certainly, you didn't look up from your book just to check on me."
Annabelle bit her lip and was suddenly glad the professor couldn't see her face. She hadn't realized how emotional she was about the whole situation until she felt her eyes misting over. "I was thinking about Hogwarts too, actually." The young witch took a deep shuddering breath, willing herself not to cry, before continuing. "I was thinking about how I will miss my parents…even though I shouldn't." The last part was barely a mumble and Annabelle immediately clapped her hands over her mouth after saying it. She hadn't meant to say it!
The young girl began to get off the couch when Minerva wrapped her arms around her charge again. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, lassie." Minerva was not only intrigued, but also concerned for the girl. She refused to discuss her parents, and when she did, it seemed to just be generalizations. She never talked about doing things with them or spending time with them. She simply called them her parents and only mentioned them when it deemed absolutely necessary.
Annabelle backpedaled, trying to find a way out of her current predicament. She sniffed, and tried to wiggle out of her captor's hold to no avail. "I just meant that I'm too old to miss them. That's all. Now, may I please go to bed?"
Minerva couldn't help but be hurt by the girl's cold, angry response. She felt herself hardening and released her student. She stood up before the girl had a chance to react and hesitated at the doorway, not turning back. "Breakfast is at 8:30. We leave here by ten." After saying her piece, she stalked up to her bedroom. Hearing that Annabelle was not far behind her, she hoped to keep her tears at bay until she was safely inside her room, but they began to overflow as she reached the top of the stairs. Little did she know that her young charge had the same problem at that moment. However, both witches shut themselves in their respective rooms and curled into their bed before truly letting themselves cry.
Minerva had transfigured her clothes into a loose pair of pajamas as she walked over to her dozing husband. Curling up beside him, she let herself cry, upset with herself for getting angry, but also frustrated that Annabelle continued to shut her out. Having woken up from the change of weight distribution on the bed, Albus worked on soothing his wife, making hushing sounds and rubbing her back. After a few minutes of silence, Albus found that his wife had fallen asleep. He could only hope that Annabelle met the same fate.
Instead of falling asleep, Annabelle found herself fretting over her poor reaction. McGonagall was only trying to help. Snuggled in bed with Sylvanna, the younger witch found herself crying and wide awake into wretched hours of the night.