A/N: This isn't a very long chapter, but I should have the next one ready soon. I want to say thank you to everyone who has reached out to me or is following this story. Take care and stay healthy.

15. Rivalries

It had finally come. Her O.W.L. year. Technically, it hadn't started just yet. She was still aboard the Hogwarts Express on her way back to school. But just as quickly as the back half of her fourth year and the summer holidays had passed, this year would pass, too, and then it would be time for her O.W.L. exams.

Knowing how much studying she had to do, Minerva had even considered giving back her shiny new prefect badge that had arrived with her Hogwarts letter. She had been pleased, of course, very pleased, but it meant even more responsibilities on top of school and Quidditch. Over the summer Minerva had spent many nights trying to sort out her priorities.

In the end she had remembered the look on Professor Dumbledore's face when he had told her that Hogwarts needed teachers and students with the right mindset. People who cared. She couldn't imagine facing him and telling him that she wasn't interested. And then there were her parents, who had been overjoyed at the news. Her father had even talked about it in his sermon – how he was blessed with three wonderful children and how he was reminded every day that to look upon their faces was to look upon the face of God. Minerva couldn't say with any certainty whether God had had anything to do with her becoming a prefect or if he had a hand in Hogwarts business at all, but either way, she couldn't disappoint her father.

So now she was entering the Prefect's Carriage to receive the mandatory instructions by the Head Girl and Boy. She was very curious who else from her year she would meet in there. None of the faces that greeted her were much of a surprise. Minerva had been the most uncertain about her fellow prefect from Gryffindor. She was relieved to find that it was Chase Abney. She had been worried that it might be Duncan. Being on the same Quidditch team was quite enough time she had to spend with him outside of class.

When Minerva sat down next to Chase, he grinned at her, clearly not surprised to see her here. He did look like he was a little surprised that he was.

On Minerva's other side sat Padraig Monahan from Slytherin. "I knew Dumbledore would make you a prefect," he said.

"Actually, new prefects are chosen by the headmaster," Minerva told him because she wasn't sure what exactly he had meant to imply.

"Yes, but he asks the Heads of House for their recommendations since they know the students best. And then he usually just goes with that," Padraig replied.

"In that case, I knew that Professor Slughorn would make you a prefect, too," Minerva said.

Padraig grinned, not denying it. "Yeah, being liked by Old Sluggy can be very useful. I'm sure he would have made you a prefect, too, by the way, if it'd been up to him."

Minerva didn't say anything in response because she already knew that. She also knew what else Slughorn would do. Suggest that the two of them would make a nice couple...

"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you..." Padraig said slowly. For one wild second Minerva thought that he would actually ask her out. But then he continued, "... how you'll be studying for your O.W.L.s?"

"What?" She hadn't expected that question either.

"You're the best in our year. Have been for four years running. So I guess you're the one to ask. That's why I was hoping to see you here today."

"You could have just asked me that in Potions," Minerva pointed out.

Padraig made a face. For a moment Minerva thought that he didn't want to give Slughorn the wrong idea about them. But then she realised that this wasn't about his Head of House but about all the other Slytherins.

"You would have been too embarrassed to be seen asking me for advice. Is that because I'm a girl or because I'm a Gryffindor?" Minerva asked sharply.

"Come on. You know what it's like between Slytherin and Gryffindor," Padraig said.

"Then why would I give you an answer?"

"Because we're both prefects now. We should lead by example, right?"

Minerva knew he was just trying to talk her into doing what he wanted, like all Slytherins, but he also had a point. "You're right. Which is why we should start a real study group. For everyone. All years. All houses. We can help out the younger students, which is a great way to make sure that we know our stuff, and perhaps there'll be some sixth- or seventh-years who we can turn to when we get stuck."

The look on Padraig's face said very clearly that this was not what he had bargained for. "No one will go for that."

"Won't they? You were desperate enough to ask me!"

He had a hard time denying that. "Is that even, like, allowed? That duelling club got in a lot of trouble last year."

"Because duelling is against school rules and because they didn't ask for permission," Minerva argued. "If we ask someone, I'm sure we could do it in the Great Hall between meals. As prefects we're authorised to supervise. We wouldn't even need a teacher."

"I guess," Padraig said dubiously.

"This kind of thing also looks great on a job application," Minerva added. She knew they would be given career advice later this year as well.

That seemed to get through to Padraig immediately. Sometimes it was incredibly easy to speak a language that Slytherins understood.

"All right, what the hell, let's give it a try."

At breakfast the next day Minerva anxiously waited for Professor Dumbledore to hand out the new timetables. Watching the four Heads of House work their way down their respective house tables was always a bit of an elephant race.

Professor Slughorn talked to every student, or almost every student. He skipped the ones he didn't like but spent even more time with his favourites. Professor Beery wasn't averse to having a bit of a chat with his Hufflepuffs either. Professor Dumbledore was a lot more efficient, but he was also very well liked and too kind to shut down any attempts at a conversation outright. Professor Sowerby was usually the fastest. The Ravenclaws were more eager to get to class than to stay and make small talk. Also, Sowerby was the only female Head of House and thus (or so Minerva was secretly convinced) more organised.

Eventually, Dumbledore reached her. "Thanks, Professor," she said as he handed her the new timetable. "And thank you for recommending me to become a prefect," she added.

"I had very little to do with that. It's solely a reflection of your accomplishments," Dumbledore replied. "But I was, of course, delighted that you've made my decision so very easy indeed."

Minerva grinned at him, but she knew that they didn't have much time. "Sir, Padraig Monahan and I would like to start a study group and we were hoping to do it in the Great Hall."

Professor Dumbledore looked at her over his half-moon spectacles. "A study group?"

"Yes, for students of all years and all houses. We thought it would be a good way to study for our O.W.L.s." She used the term 'we' very loosely.

For a moment Minerva thought her Head of House would point out that she hadn't even started with any of her O.W.L. classes yet or that this might be a somewhat ambitious undertaking less than 24 hours into her tenure as a Hogwarts prefect.

But all he said was, "I shall speak to the headmaster and let you know."

The first week of school passed with many warnings and admonishments from their teachers to take the O.W.L.s seriously. As if to emphasise the point they were trying to make, none of them wasted any time with revisions as they usually did at the start of a new term. They all dived right into difficult new areas of study.

Minerva was unusually tense when Professor Dumbledore told them, "This year we shall become acquainted with a new branch of Transfiguration magic known as Vanishment, which is the art of causing things to vanish or, in other words, to make things go into non-being. I strongly suggest you give this matter your fullest attention as this will be one of the hardest Transfigurations you will be tested on in your O.W.L.s. The difficulty of the Vanishment to be performed positively correlates with the complexity of the organism to be vanished..."

While the look on Augusta's face became increasingly glassy, Minerva scribbled away on her piece of parchment. Her mouth had gone completely dry. She was excited to try something new, but she could have done without all this pressure. It took her all hour to make her snail vanish and even then it left its feelers behind. Professor Dumbledore informed her that her view on what was a long time to master a spell was somewhat skewed, as one lesson was not a lot of time at all. That (and the fifteen points for Gryffindor that came with it) made Minerva feel a little less strained. She also remembered her study group request.

"Did you have time to talk to the headmaster, sir?" she asked.

"Yes, you may proceed, provided your meetings are concluded by the time dinner starts," Dumbledore told her. "Professor Dippet also wanted me to let you and Mr Monahan know that he commends you for your dedication and commitment."

It was nice to hear that the headmaster now actually knew her name, but Minerva had never even talked to him in person. What she much rather wanted to know was, "Do you think it's a good idea, Professor?"

"I generally think that most ideas are good ideas as I do believe that we should all make the most of the brainpower we have each been given," he said brightly, which was an answer as only Professor Dumbledore could give it.

Minerva accepted it with a laugh and thanked him. Before their next Potions lesson she let Padraig know that they had been given the go ahead.

"And what are you two whispering about?" Professor Slughorn asked eagerly when he opened the door to the classroom. "Anything I should know?"

They hadn't been whispering at all as there was no point in being secretive about any of this. "We're starting a study group, Professor."

Slughorn's face fell – clearly he had hoped for something more useful to him – but he recovered quickly. "Of course you are! Two of the best students in the whole school. That's very big of you. Very generous."

Those weren't the words Minerva would have used, but she knew better than to argue. In fact, she got a little nervous when their first scheduled meeting drew nearer. All the teachers knew about this now. If they were to fail right out of the gate, it would be rather embarrassing.

Thankfully, it went all right for a first meeting. The turnout wasn't as high as Minerva had hoped, but it wasn't bad either. Perhaps too many students at once would have been too much to handle anyway. As it was, they had a nice balance of older and younger students.

Minerva helped a fourth-year to get the hang of the Water-Making Spell. In her previous attempts the Hufflepuff girl had either produced nothing but a few pitiful drops or alternatively flooded almost the entire hall. By the end of their study group session a nice jet of clean, drinkable water shot out of the tip of her wand when she yelled, "Aguamenti!" She beamed at Minerva in thanks.

In turn, Minerva got to improve her Shield Charm rather dramatically when she found a Ravenclaw seventh-year who had a real knack for it. His shields were so strong and so vast, he could protect half of the students in the hall with them. Minerva promised him that if he showed up again next time, she would return the favour by giving him some pointers on his Cross-species Transfigurations, which were still a little shaky.

Padraig had held up his end of the deal and brought some Slytherins with him, who were surprisingly easy to work with. Most of them, anyway. There were always exceptions. Near the end of their meeting a group of them showed up just to hang out and be annoying. This was the Great Hall and they had a right to be here. Minerva couldn't tell them off as long as they didn't bother anyone other than by being very loud.

Apparently, they were waiting for Padraig because at some point one of them yelled, "Are you coming, mate, or what?"

"Yeah, or are you too busy hanging out with your new study buddy?" That sneering voice Minerva knew only too well. It belonged to Israr Sevazlian, who had so far managed to break, bruise or split open some part of Minerva's body in every Quidditch game they had ever played against one another. He gave her a nasty grin when their eyes met across the hall.

Padraig tried to shush his friends, but Minerva still heard what he was saying, "We're not buddies," he hissed. "But yes, I'm studying with her because whether we like it or not, she's getting the best grades in our year, which means she will definitely earn more Galleons than you one day. And hopefully, so will I, so you can laugh all you want now."

Minerva raised her eyebrows in surprise. She wasn't in it for the money (so far that part hadn't even crossed her mind). But for a Slytherin that was a reasonable argument, she supposed. Anything she was better at than Sevazlian was all right with her. He didn't seem to find a counterargument to Minerva's good grades and her corresponding job prospects. She gave him a smug look and turned away.

At the end of the session most students agreed to come back next week. Minerva stayed behind to clean up any mess they had made so they would actually be allowed to come back and use the Great Hall again. There was still some time left before dinner and she decided to head back to the Gryffindor common room.

She was crossing the Entrance Hall when she thought she heard a cat. That in itself was nothing unusual in Hogwarts, but Minerva couldn't actually see a cat. Its miaows sounded muffled somehow. It was possible that it had got stuck somewhere, though cats usually knew the castle a lot better than anyone else. But it could always be a young cat and in any case, she wanted to make sure.

She followed the pitiful sounds all the way to a broom closet. Minerva opened the door and found two feline eyes looking up at her out of the darkness. She had only a couple of seconds to realise that there was no way this cat could have got into this closed closet on its own when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

There was nothing Minerva could do before the Full Body-Bind Curse hit her. Her arms and legs snapped together and she fell forwards, stiff as a board. Her forehead banged against the inner back wall of the closet. Her feet were quickly stuffed inside, too, and then the closet door was slammed shut, leaving Minerva in total darkness, unable to move or see. She could still hear, though. She could hear Sevazlian laugh for a good long while before he took off.

The only good thing was that the cat had run off before Sevazlian had shoved Minerva in the closet and so it was no longer trapped. Admittedly, that was cold comfort to her right now. Not that Minerva was actually cold. Rage and humiliation burned inside of her hotter than dragon fire. Sure, Sevazlian had jumped her from behind, lured her into a trap even, when she hadn't expected an attack. But she should have! She should have been better than this. Better than him.

Now she had very limited options, if not to say, none. She had to wait until someone would open this broom closet by chance or notice that she was gone and somehow manage to track her here or until Sevazlian's curse would eventually wear off. All of these things could take a while. Especially since every minute felt like years and Minerva's forehead throbbed painfully from colliding with the back wall.

She knew that nonverbal spells might help. But she hadn't actually been trained to use them yet, and she wasn't currently holding her wand, which made success highly unlikely. Still, as she had nothing better to do, Minerva concentrated on thinking 'Finite!' until she was blue in the face.

She had no way to tell the time, aside from the rumbling in her stomach that got worse by the minute or hour or whichever. She also had no idea what was going on in the castle. Minerva was flooded with disorientation and relief when the door to the closet was finally ripped open again.

Her relief faded as soon as she saw that it was Padraig who had found her.

"Sorry it took me so long. Israr only just told us during dinner what he did... Ah, right, Finite!"

As the curse left her body, Minerva crashed to the floor, her legs feeling like jelly. Padraig offered her a hand, but she ignored it and pulled herself back up on her own. Once she was certain that she would remain standing, she glared at the Slytherin prefect.

"Or maybe you were too busy having a laugh to come and help me right away," she said.

Padraig looked annoyed about that accusation. "No, I just told you. I didn't know until Israr told me."

"At dinner?"

"Yah."

"Then why is dinner already over?" Now that Minerva was out of the closet, she could tell. It was too quiet.

"Well, I was actually late to dinner," Padraig said.

"I don't believe you. I think you're lying."

Padraig shrugged. "It's not my problem if you don't trust my word more than your preconceived notions about Slytherin."

Minerva folded her arms. "Did you take points from him then?"

"For what?"

"For attacking a prefect!" Minerva cried, her eyes bulging.

"Oh, come on. I can't take points from my own house. No one does that. That's just stupid."

"It would have been the honourable thing to do!"

Padraig stared at her. "Blimey, is there even air to breathe on that high Hippogriff of yours?"

"So you won't do anything about this?" Minerva demanded.

"I got you out, didn't I?" Padraig shot back. "If that's not enough, I don't know what you want from me."

Minerva gave him a cold look before she stalked off. "Then I guess I know who to trust."

Certainly no one who was wearing a snake over their heart.