A/N: Here's the next chapter. I'll probably finish another one over the weekend. Hope you enjoy.
16. Nerves
"Blimey, did you know that to be an Auror you'd need at least five N.E.W.T.s, plus a series of character and aptitude tests?" Augusta scowled at the leaflet in her hand as though it had personally offended her.
"Well, they have to make sure that you're tough enough to face dark magic and dark wizards, don't they?" Minerva replied, nervously keeping an eye on the time.
"I guess. Maybe you should go for it then."
"Maybe…"
"Or any of these." Augusta threw the leaflet back on the pile of pamphlets that had appeared on every table in Gryffindor Tower. "You have the grades for it."
"Not yet I don't," Minerva muttered, still watching the seconds tick by.
Augusta slumped into her chair. "Seriously, what do you reckon you want to do?"
"I…"
"Maybe you should be a teacher."
Surprised, Minerva looked up at her brother who had walked over to them. Before she could ask, he added, "You're such a teacher's pet already."
Minerva's face fell. Things between her and Robert had been rocky ever since she had been involved in shutting down that duelling club last year. And there was still the matter of her overshadowing him in every class. Well, almost every class. In an obvious attempt to get out from under her, Junior had chosen to take up Care of Magical Creatures and Divination this year. He seemed to love it. Possibly because Professor Narramore mentioned every other lesson that he was clearly the more talented one in the family.
"Careful, little brother. You know I can take points from you now," Minerva reminded him.
"Not without reason," Robert countered. "That would be against the rules."
"For you, I might disregard some of them," she warned him, but her brother only laughed.
"Yeah, right."
"He has a point, you know," Augusta said after Robert had joined some of his classmates. "You do have a thing with rules. Perhaps there's a job in here for that."
Minerva opened her mouth to respond, but she had forgotten to keep her eyes on the clock and quickly jumped to her feet. "I have to go."
"Good luck," Augusta called after her.
Not wanting to be late for her appointment with Professor Dumbledore, Minerva took all the shortcuts she knew to get to his study. But when she was actually standing outside his office door, she couldn't bring herself to knock for almost a minute. She was beginning to attract funny looks from students who were walking by and so she finally went in.
Professor Dumbledore's desk was littered with pamphlets very similar to the ones Minerva and Augusta had just looked at. Instead of studying any of them, her Head of House was gazing out of the window, his chin resting on his long, intertwined fingers.
Upon her entrance he turned to smile at her. "Good day, Minerva."
"Hello, Professor," she said and slowly approached his desk. "I brought you something."
She set down the small box and watched as Professor Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "Cockroach clusters? Oh my, that's very considerate of you, though I must admit that I'm more partial to simple toffee eclairs."
"Actually, they are for Fawkes," Minerva explained, blushing slightly.
"Ah," made Professor Dumbledore.
A low, melodic cry filtered into the room.
"He says thank you," Dumbledore relayed with a chuckle.
Curious, Minerva looked around the office. Her eyes landed on a particularly large painting. She thought Fawkes' cry had originated from the other side of it. Perhaps there was a hidden door leading into another room? She had never thought about this before, but obviously her teacher needed to live and sleep somewhere. It would make sense if those rooms were accessible through his study.
"Won't you sit down?" Dumbledore asked, watching her as curiously as she was watching out for hidden passageways.
"Yes, sir," Minerva said and sat.
"As you know this meeting is meant for us to discuss any ideas you might have about your career once you leave Hogwarts and to decide what you'll need to do in your remaining two years at this school to get there," Dumbledore began.
Minerva fidgeted in her chair. "Yes, sir."
Dumbledore paused and gave her his signature look over the top of his half-moon spectacles, which always made Minerva feel as though she was being X-rayed. Even more so ever since she had learned that mind reading was actually a thing. It only made her fidget more.
"Are you all right? I get the feeling that you don't wish to be here, which is something I can't remember having seen from you before."
"No, sir, it's just…" Minerva sighed. "I figured you were going to ask me what I want to do and I… I don't think I know." She hated not having an answer to a teacher's question. If that made her a teacher's pet, then so be it.
"Then it's a good thing that I'm not just here to tell you what it says in these pamphlets," Dumbledore replied with a smile that was perfectly unconcerned. "I assume you have read all of them?"
Minerva nodded.
"Nothing jumped out at you?"
"Well, I know that I don't want to work for the Daily Prophet," Minerva hedged. Not all journalists were like Greg Burnside, the only reporter she had ever met personally. But the kind of cutthroat atmosphere he must have come from was not what she was looking for.
"I'm glad to hear that because I seem to have temporarily misplaced that particular leaflet," Professor Dumbledore replied brightly and some of the tension in Minerva's stomach eased.
Somehow she had forgotten that all she was here to do was to talk to Professor Dumbledore. He would never judge her for anything she said so long as it was the truth.
"I know that journalism isn't always bad. I love reading the articles in Transfiguration Today, but I'm not much of a writer. I think I would prefer to supply them with something to write about."
"Are you referring to going into research?"
"You were the one who told me once that there's still so much we don't know about how magic works, Professor," Minerva reminded him. "In Transfiguration, for example, we understand the underlying basic principles and formulas, but with every Transfiguration there's this unknown quantity. If we could just identify it…"
Her voice had trailed off and Professor Dumbledore nodded. "That would be fascinating, indeed."
Minerva frowned. "But you don't think I could do it?"
"I think anyone who has witnessed your performance in my Transfiguration classroom these past few years would find it impossible to deny your capability to further the field. And playing to one's strengths is certainly a prudent course of action," Dumbledore said. "I'm merely curious if you have stopped to consider your other strengths?"
"You mean like… Quidditch, sir?"
Dumbledore looked at her impassively. "Do you wish to become a professional Quidditch player?"
"Uh, no?"
"That's another possibility crossed off then," he said cheerfully. "Surely, that's not the only strength you can think of?"
The harder Minerva tried to think, the more she heard Junior's voice echo inside her head. Teacher's pet, teacher's pet, teacher's pet… "I'm… smart."
Her Head of House chuckled. "Rather."
"I have strong opinions."
"I'd say so."
"And I can't keep my mouth shut when I see things I don't like."
"And why's that?"
"Because I know they could be different."
"Mhmm."
Minerva waited for Dumbledore to say more than that, but he didn't. He watched a bird that had just landed on the windowsill, which gave her more time to think.
"Professor, how exactly did you get to be on the Wizengamot?" she asked eventually.
"I was chosen as their British Youth Representative and then I just stuck around and wore them down until they bumped me up to Chief Warlock."
"But you've never officially worked for the Ministry?"
"I have not."
When Minerva fell silent, Dumbledore looked intently at her again. "But my choices are completely irrelevant in this conversation about your future."
"I know you said you couldn't tell me why you didn't want to be Minister for Magic, but I figured it must have had something to do with the Ministry, so I was just wondering…"
"Didn't we just both agree that you're used to forming your own opinions independent of anyone else's?" Dumbledore cut her off, which was something he almost never did. "I would advise you to do the same here."
Minerva understood what he was saying. Still, she said, "But you have so much more experience than me. I just thought your opinion…"
"My opinion, insofar as it's pertinent to this conversation, is that any department, with the exception perhaps of the horoscope section on the WWN, would be very lucky to have you," Dumbledore said. His words had the same effect on Minerva as if he had just used a Levitation Charm.
Feeling light and sitting up straighter, she said, "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, sir. I think I would like to join the Magical Law Enforcement Squad." If she managed to stop just one wizard from hurting Muggles for sport, she would feel like she had done some good in this world.
Professor Dumbledore reached for a pamphlet that, curiously enough, had sat right on top of the pile this entire time. "They ask for a minimum of five N.E.W.T.s, which you should have no difficulty obtaining. They prefer their applicants not to be of a nervous disposition, which we can also rule out in your case. And they offer a starting salary of 700 Galleons a month, a Ministry of Magic broomstick and a regular bed in St. Mungo's. I've never been quite sure if that's supposed to be reassuring or if it's a bit of a joke. Perhaps you'll be able to tell me."
"Would that be very different from the requirements for joining the Wizengamot Administration Services?" Minerva asked.
"I daresay they're not offering beds in St. Mungo's," Dumbledore joked. "But no, they just want one of those five N.E.W.T.s to be in Ancient Runes and they'd like their applicants to speak at least one other language."
Minerva's eyes widened. "I'd have to learn another language?"
"Not if you wish to join the Magical Law Enforcement Squad."
"But I'd like to keep my options open in case I want to branch out into wizarding law…" Minerva said thoughtfully.
"Professor Oldroyd has been known to teach a workshop on Gobbledegook when there was enough interest from N.E.W.T. students," Dumbledore said.
"Could you tell him I'm interested, Professor?"
Dumbledore smiled softly. "Anything else you're interested in?"
"I wouldn't mind you telling me what exactly we'll be tested on in our O.W.L.s," Minerva joked half-heartedly. Discussing her future career would be completely pointless if she failed in her upcoming exams.
"I think 'no cheating' is a requirement for both the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and the Wizengamot offices," Dumbledore replied lightly.
"I figured." Minerva sighed. "Were you nervous, sir? Before you took your O.W.L.s?"
"I might have been. Then again, I was rather full of myself at the time."
Not sure if she was supposed to laugh about that or not, Minerva hedged, "If you were, uh, full of yourself, I'm sure you had every right to be, Professor."
"It didn't make me particularly likeable, but it certainly was a great antidote to exam nerves," he nodded.
"I could use some of that," Minerva muttered.
"I very much doubt that you have any more reason to worry than my fifteen-year-old self had."
"I hope you're right, sir."
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "There you go then, because I usually am." He paused. "Oh dear, I'm still rather full of myself, aren't I?"
This time Minerva couldn't help herself and started laughing, which, she later suspected, had been the whole point.
"Five points from Gryffindor."
"For what?"
"For breathing too loud."
"What? You can't take points from me for breathing!"
"Yes, I can when you do it so loudly that it's messing with my concentration."
"If you ask me, it's not your concentration that's messed up right now."
"Is that your clever way of telling me that you think I'm crazy?"
"I was thinking barking mad, but sure, let's go with that."
"You try studying for ten O.W.L.s all at once!"
"Oh, yes, must be hard trying not to get an 'E' while other people might be looking at a 'P'!"
One week before their first O.W.L. exam tensions were running high and the conversations in the fifth-years' girls' dormitory reflected that. But that last complaint from Augusta brought Minerva up short.
"You're not actually worried that you're going to fail?" she asked, astonished. If you were hoping for a career at the Ministry, getting an 'Acceptable' O.W.L. was quite the same as failing, because it would not qualify you to continue with certain subjects like Transfiguration. But not to get an O.W.L. in the first place, not even an 'A,' was a different story.
Augusta snorted. "Well, I haven't made anything vanish yet. Not completely anyway."
"Then you should have come to the study group!" Minerva said, exasperated.
"Too late now, ain't it?"
Unfortunately, Augusta was right. It was terrifying how quickly they were running out of time. Minerva went nowhere without her books and her notes, not even when she was patrolling corridors during prefect duty, and still she felt as though the exams were coming at her way too fast. And now she had to add coaching Augusta so she wouldn't fail her Transfiguration O.W.L. to her list of things to do, which was already endless.
For a few days Minerva solved the problem by asking Professor Slughorn if she could use the Potions classroom after hours for some extra practice.
"Want to make sure you get that Outstanding O.W.L. in Potions, eh? Well, it's all yours, my dear girl," Slughorn said with that booming laugh of his.
Minerva thanked him, waited until he was gone and then brewed a whole cauldron full of Wideye Potion. It prevented the drinker from falling asleep and thus allowed Minerva to study all through the night. That way she could help Augusta and then do her own revision. It worked like a charm (or, in this case, a potion) until she got so jittery that she couldn't sit still in class anymore. In Transfiguration she suddenly failed to make the kitten on her desk vanish and almost started to hyperventilate until she realised that she had been swinging her quill rather than her wand.
That's when Professor Dumbledore noticed what was going on with her and confiscated the rest of her potion, looking none too pleased. But he couldn't punish her because while taking potions like that during the exams was forbidden, taking them to study for the exams was not. (Minerva had checked the rules. Twice). Also, Professor Slughorn had explicitly given her permission to use the Potions classroom and all the ingredients in the store cupboard.
Anyway, Minerva felt like she was being punished enough because as soon as the effects of the Wideye Potion wore off, she slept twenty hours straight.
When she woke up again, their O.W.L. examiners had already arrived in the castle. This was soon followed by their very first examination. Once the O.W.L.s had started, they went by in a blur. Two weeks of sitting one theoretical exam in the mornings, one practical exam in the afternoon and either sleepwalking or last-minute studying in between.
And then, just as suddenly, it was all over. Weirdly, Minerva hated that even more. Now she had to wait for her results and no one seemed able to tell her for how long she would have to wait.
They had one week left before the official end of term and Minerva made sure to accidentally run into Professor Dumbledore as often as possible. But their conversations got shorter every day.
"Professor, are you sure you couldn't at least let me know how it went overall?"
"Even if I wanted to, I really couldn't. The examiners have yet to submit your results."
"But surely you must know how the Transfiguration O.W.L.s turned out?"
"What I know is that you ought not to worry."
Easy for him to say.
The next day she barely even got to open her mouth.
"Professor, …"
"My answer is exactly the same today as it was yesterday."
And the day after that she hadn't even reached Professor Dumbledore yet when he said,
"Please don't force me to treat you like a child, Minerva."
"So, no means no?" she translated that.
"Indeed."
Every bit as frustrated, Minerva turned around and walked back towards Gryffindor Tower. On her way she passed Professor Marchbanks, one of the elder examiners, in the corridor. The examiners were still in the castle because the N.E.W.T.s weren't finished yet. Funnily enough, Professor Marchbanks looked a little exhausted herself.
"Bless you," Minerva said when Professor Marchbanks sneezed. She transfigured the only suitable thing she found in her pockets, a scroll of parchment, into a handkerchief to offer it to the older witch.
"Thank you, thank you," Professor Marchbanks mumbled as she accepted the handkerchief. "Oh, it's you," she added when she actually looked up at Minerva for the first time.
Not quite sure what that was supposed to mean, Minerva took a step back. "I'm sorry?"
"I recognise you from your Transfiguration exam," Professor Marchbanks explained brightly. "Nice work you did there. I knew right away who had taught you. I had seen that kind of wand work in a Transfiguration examination only once before."
Putting two and two together, Minerva's eyes widened. "You examined Professor Dumbledore?"
"Oh yes, and never will I forget it," Professor Marchbanks nodded, taking a moment to reminisce, seeing something in her mind's eye that must have impressed her greatly. "You keep at it, my dear. I have a feeling you could give him a run for his money."
Laughing, Professor Marchbanks continued on her way. Minerva went home at the end of the week, still feeling every bit as anxious about getting her results but also a lot more excited.
Two weeks into the summer holidays Malcolm suddenly yelled through the house, "They're coming! They're coming!"
That would have sounded rather ominous, except the entire McGonagall family knew who 'they' was referring to. Owls. Malcolm and Minerva had taken turns looking out of the window, while Junior had laughed his head off. He had fooled each of them at least once by pretending that he had spotted an owl heading for the house.
This time there was no mistaking it for a prank, as they all gathered in the sitting room. Four large barn owls were slowly, painfully slowly in fact, making their way towards the window Minerva's mother had thrown open.
"Four? Why are there four of them?" her father wondered. Even now when everyone in the village had long since accepted that their reverend had a thing for owls, he still cringed when they arrived carrying large letters like that in daylight. Today there were indeed four of them at the same time.
They soared through the open window one after the other. The first two headed for Robert and Malcolm, who squealed in delight. He had waited for his Hogwarts acceptance letter every bit as anxiously as Minerva had waited for her O.W.L. results, perhaps even more so. As the youngest in the family he had grown tired of not being included in Minerva's and Junior's stories and accomplishments. Now he ripped open his letter like a Christmas present and Minerva smiled broadly as she watched. She was happy for him and she hoped he would have an easier time settling in at Hogwarts than Junior. Surely the teachers would have got over their Minerva-induced bias by now.
Her smile faltered when the remaining two owls landed next to her. It was time. Suddenly feeling slightly nauseated, she opened the smaller, unmarked letter first. It was a small piece of parchment and it contained only one sentence.
"I believe I tried to tell you that there was no cause for concern."
Confused, Minerva turned over the parchment, looking for more, but there was nothing. Which left the second official, very thick letter.
And there it was. Her book lists and start-of-term information and:
ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS
Minerva McGonagall has achieved:
Arithmancy: Outstanding
Astronomy: Outstanding
Charms: Outstanding
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding
Herbology: Outstanding
History of Magic: Outstanding
Muggle Studies: Outstanding
Potions: Outstanding
Study of Ancient Runes: Outstanding
Transfiguration: Outstanding
As her eyes swept over the parchment, Minerva felt her face split into the widest of grins. But only after having read the whole thing for the third time did she burst out laughing.
She had just realised that the other letter was Professor Dumbledore's way of saying "I told you so."