A/N: Again, thank you so much for your love and support! It makes writing this story even much fun.
21. Waiting for the Moon
As she entered the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast that would mark the beginning of her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, Minerva was overcome with emotion. She couldn't imagine leaving these halls behind in only a couple of months. But then members of the Quidditch team came up to her to ask about practice, Augusta demanded a detailed report on Dumbledore's visit over the summer, and they kept getting interrupted by Gryffindors who wanted to congratulate Minerva on having been named Head Girl.
So really, she didn't have any time to feel sad. Not on that first night and certainly not once classes had started. Part of her had actually managed to forget some of the stress and terror of her O.W.L. year, but her teachers were kind enough to remind her and to warn them all that the N.E.W.T.s would be ten times as bad. Nevertheless, Minerva in turn reminded Professor Dumbledore that they needed to schedule her first Animagus lesson.
She had been a little worried that he would refuse after all, but she should have known better. Professor Dumbledore wouldn't go back on his word. And so Minerva walked into his study on Friday evening, followed by a flock of birds.
"I see you've brought friends," Dumbledore greeted her, sitting behind his desk as usual.
"I was just practising," Minerva said and waved her wand to make the birds vanish again.
Dumbledore sighed. "Then I'm keeping you from your homework already."
"Actually, you're keeping me from having dinner with Professor Slughorn," Minerva told him.
"I see. Well, in that case... shall we begin?"
He pointed to her usual chair in front of his desk and Minerva sat, trying to spot anything different about the room, anything Dumbledore might have prepared for today, but the office looked the same as always.
Her attempts had not been inconspicuous enough because Professor Dumbledore said, "I see you're eager to get started, but you won't transform as much as a fingernail tonight, I'm afraid. First, I need you to understand what exactly it is we're dealing with here."
Minerva had read enough about the process to know that it was impossible for her to transform tonight, but she hadn't been sure if those rules still applied when your teacher was Albus Dumbledore. Either way, she let him know with a nod that she was listening.
"To become an Animagus one must use very ancient magic. It would not be far off to say that you're entering into a magical contract with your animal form. When you transform, you retain all your intellectual capabilities, your sense of identity and your memories, but you give up your human form in exchange for your animal form and you gain all that body has to offer, including such physical properties as strength, speed and vision.
But only for a limited time. It is borrowed, not taken. To stay too long in an Animagus form, while certainly possible, would eventually have ill effects. This kind of magic should not be trifled with. Regardless of the witch or wizard or their circumstances."
"What about your circumstances, sir?" Minerva asked the question she had been meaning to ask for months now. She had checked the Animagus Registry from this century and the last. It hadn't taken very long because it was an extremely short list. Professor Dumbledore's name was not on it, which she simply couldn't explain.
"In my case," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "I was absolutely convinced, the same as you are now, that there was no reason whatsoever why I shouldn't achieve this feat. After all, I was being hailed as the best Transfiguration student Hogwarts or any other wizarding school had ever seen, though you have, of course, since then given me a run for my money."
He winked at her before he continued. "But at the time I didn't anticipate that there was or would ever be anyone more skilled than I was. So I forged ahead as I always did, in a blaze of glory, or so I imagined."
Minerva didn't dare to comment on Dumbledore's underlying criticism of his younger self and focused on a more pressing question. "Sir, are you saying that you did it on your own? You told me that if I tried that, you'd have me expelled! That's..."
"... a double standard?" Dumbledore finished her sentence for her. "Certainly, but you see, it's a mentor's prerogative to save his protégé from repeating his mistakes."
That brought Minerva up short. "Mistakes? Then... it didn't work?"
"Oh, it worked. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be, but I managed to transform," Dumbledore said and paused, almost as if for dramatic effect.
Minerva had been wondering for weeks now what her teacher might turn into. She had considered everything from a bumblebee to a lion, but nothing really seemed to fit. It was harder even than picturing her own transformation.
"My Animagus is a phoenix," Dumbledore finally told her.
"But that's impossible!" Minerva burst out before she could stop herself. "All the books I've read said that it has to be an animal one transforms into."
Professor Dumbledore nodded. "And so it is in every other case that I know of."
Not sure why she was so surprised, Minerva laughed softly. "But it's you we're talking about. You're different... sir."
"Alas, so it seems. Even when it's to my detriment."
"Why? A phoenix Animagus must be the most powerful Animagus there is!"
"Perhaps. But as is always the case with great power, it doesn't come without equally great cost," Dumbledore said gravely, the light in his eyes of a frightening intensity.
"As you just pointed out, a phoenix is not an animal. They are highly intelligent and immensely powerful magical creatures who, if transformed into, will not only give one the ability to fly like an ordinary bird, but also all of their other powers that are not meant to be shared lightly. It creates an imbalance that needs to be paid. In exchange for receiving a phoenix's powers, I need to sacrifice some of my own."
Perhaps Minerva really hadn't realised what kind of risks they were dealing with. "You lose some of your magic?" she asked, stunned. She had never heard of such a thing before.
"No, not my magic." Dumbledore tapped his right temple with his finger. "My mind. Worth a lot more."
Either way, Minerva was too shocked to say anything.
"I wasn't prepared for it the first time. I could have lost myself that day. Since then I've grown a lot wiser, which also means that I stand even more to lose. A magical conundrum one might say." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair.
"So... you can't actually transform anymore."
"I could, but, as seems to be the case so often these days, there's always the question whether the price is quite right."
"I'm sorry, Professor," Minerva said. She couldn't imagine going through this long process only to find that your Animagus wasn't just powerful but too powerful.
Dumbledore lightly shook his head. "This was neither a complaint nor an attempt to elicit your sympathy, which I do not deserve. I'm quite content with how things are."
"This is how you found Fawkes, isn't it?" Minerva realised, brightening up at once.
"He likes to say that he's the one who found me, actually," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling.
Minerva laughed, but something was still nagging at her. "But, sir, technically, you're still an Animagus. Shouldn't you be on the Registry then?"
"Ah," said Dumbledore, looking a little sheepish, which wasn't something she'd ever seen before. "I must confess that I wasn't keen on explaining all of this to the Ministry. But it's entirely up to you whether you will keep my little secret."
"What secret, Professor?" Minerva said without even bothering to think about it.
Dumbledore merely smiled at her serenely.
"Sir, you don't think that my Animagus will be a phoenix as well?" Minerva wondered.
"No, I don't."
"Then you will still let me try?"
"Yes. I just want you to keep in mind that even someone who is very talented at Transfiguration can fail at this."
Minerva nodded because that was the only thing she could do.
"Before you can actually start to prepare for the transformation itself, we shall need to mix the Animagus Potion that is necessary to aid the transformation process," Dumbledore explained. "Two of the required ingredients, as you undoubtedly have already discovered, are a silver teaspoon of dew that has not seen sunlight or been touched by human feet for seven days and the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth."
Minerva had indeed found the list of ingredients months ago, but she had been hoping that Professor Dumbledore might know of a way to become an Animagus without using that potion. "The only place where one could get those things would be…"
"… deep inside the Forbidden Forest, yes," Dumbledore finished that thought for her.
Minerva groaned. For obvious reasons she wasn't anxious to go back in there. Her brothers' screams and the fear of dying in that bloody forest still haunted her sometimes.
"Unfortunately, the Animagus Potion cannot be tricked or cheated in any way. You will have to be the one to procure all of its ingredients. However, you shall not have to go alone."
Embarrassed that Professor Dumbledore thought he had to chaperon her, Minerva sat up a little straighter. "That's all right, Professor. I wanted to do this, and I can take care of myself."
"Yes, you have certainly proved that much. But please forgive me if I'm still not prepared to take that risk," Dumbledore said and seemed to check his watch. "So, I think four thirty should do."
"Four thirty tomorrow morning?" Minerva asked, her eyes wide.
"Sounds like the perfect time to collect some dew, don't you think?" Dumbledore said brightly. "I will meet you in the Entrance Hall."
At a quarter past four Minerva stumbled out of bed when all of Gryffindor Tower and the rest of the castle was still sleeping, including the portraits. Not even the ghosts looked particularly awake yet. Of course, with ghosts it was hard to tell. But usually Sir Nicholas was always in the mood for a chat. This morning he merely informed Minerva that she had pinned her Head Girl badge onto her robes upside down. She quickly corrected that mistake and also tried to fix her messy ponytail on her way down into the Entrance Hall in the semi-darkness.
"Good morning, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore greeted her. He had already been waiting by the doors.
"I'm not so sure it is, Professor," she replied significantly less brightly, upon which her Head of House merely arched an eyebrow. "Sorry, sir, it's just my brothers and I promised not to go back into the forest, and I really would have liked to keep that promise."
Dumbledore's expression softened. "Here, have some hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up at four thirty in the morning." He conjured two steaming mugs for them. Apparently, he had alerted someone in the kitchens to this little early-morning excursion of theirs.
Minerva thanked him and vowed to keep her attitude in check. Yes, it was early, but if anyone had reason to complain, it was Professor Dumbledore. But he looked as alert as though he regularly got up at this hour. He turned towards the front doors and muttered something under his breath that caused them to open.
They left the castle and briskly crossed the quiet and deserted grounds. To her surprise the hot chocolate really did make Minerva feel better. But as soon as they reached the trees of the dark forest, she made her mug vanish so she could hold her wand more firmly and concentrate on the path they were taking. Not that she knew which path that was, but Dumbledore didn't slow down much other than to light up his wand.
"Are you sure that's a good idea, sir?" Minerva asked hesitantly.
"Well, I would much rather not break my neck. My bones are more brittle than yours, you know," Dumbledore replied cheerfully.
It really was terribly dark under the trees, though they hadn't gone far yet. It brought back unpleasant memories. "I don't mind seeing where we're going either, but it means that they can see us, too."
"And who, pray tell, are they exactly?" Dumbledore asked curiously.
"For starters, how about that Acromantula that you seemed so uninterested in kicking out of here?"
"Why would I be interested in kicking anyone out of here? This isn't my forest and whoever lives in it deserves a home as much as you and I do."
Minerva huffed. "I'm fine with them living in here. I just don't want to be attacked again."
Dumbledore raised his wand a little higher so he could see her face. "That's certainly a compelling argument. I agree that it's only wise to exercise caution when one ventures into this forest alone. But since you and I are not alone, I think the light will be fine."
Since she could hardly disagree with him, Minerva distracted herself by asking, "Have you ever gone into the Forbidden Forest alone as a student, Professor?"
"Of course not."
"Would you tell me if you had?"
Dumbledore's lips twitched. "Of course not."
Minerva smiled to herself and the tension in her wand hand relaxed a little.
It wasn't much longer until Professor Dumbledore stopped. They had reached a part of the forest where the canopy of the trees was so dense that no sunlight would have reached the thicket that covered the forest floor, not in the past seven days or even weeks. It also seemed highly unlikely that anyone but them had been here in that time.
To be perfectly sure, Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and muttered, "Homenum Revelio!" When nothing happened, he gave a satisfied nod. "I believe this will do. There are no instructions as to the plant the dew should be collected from, but a four-leaf clover is preferred, as it can never hurt to add a little bit of luck, if you can find it," he told her. "As for the chrysalis, keep your eyes peeled for buckthorn or nightshade as those are two of the Hawk Moth's favourite host plants."
Minerva nodded and started searching. In order to do so, she had to crouch low to the ground and also lower her wand because she needed its light to identify the plants before her. It made the back of her neck prickle with fear. She couldn't help imagining how easy it would be for someone or something to jump her from behind like this. That kind of thinking opened the door for suspicious shadows to appear at the edge of her vision. And then she thought she heard the tell-tale clicking sounds those Fire Crab–Acromantula mutations had made. A sound she wouldn't forget because she still heard it in her nightmares every now and then.
She knew it wasn't real and yet she froze, her heart hammering in her chest and her hand shaking, as she stared into the darkness, willing it to stare back at her.
"Minerva."
She felt the solid, comforting weight of Dumbledore's warm hand on her shoulder. "It's all right. There is no danger," he assured her. "I'm with you."
In that moment Minerva knew that she was perfectly safe.
She stood to face him. "I know. I'm… my mind was just playing tricks on me."
"There's no greater torture than the one we devise for ourselves," Dumbledore nodded slowly. Somehow Minerva could tell that he was speaking from experience. "We can try again some other time," he offered.
But Minerva wouldn't hear of it. "No, I think I'm close to finding one. And I'm fine," she added when Dumbledore looked sceptical. "Really, how could anyone be worried about anything when they're with you?"
"Quite easily, I imagine, as I myself worry all the time," Dumbledore replied, throwing Minerva off a little.
"Are you worried about anything that's in this forest?" she asked.
"No," Dumbledore said simply.
"Then neither am I," Minerva decided and got back to searching.
This time her determination not to fail kept her wild imagination at bay. Or perhaps it had more to do with the fact that Dumbledore stayed suspiciously close to her now. The additional light from his wand (that seemed even brighter than her own) certainly helped.
The sun still hadn't come up yet, certainly not inside the forest, when Minerva finally discovered what she was looking for. Professor Dumbledore handed her a small silver knife and two phials so she could cut the four-leaf clover with several drops of fresh morning dew on it and store it separately from the Death's-head Hawk Moth chrysalis. Dumbledore then waved his wand over both phials, muttering a conservation spell meant to preserve both ingredients until they would be added to the potion.
"You won't object to me keeping them safe in the meantime?" he asked. "The Animagus Potion and its ingredients need to be kept away from direct sunlight as to not risk mutations."
Minerva nodded and with another flick of Dumbledore's wand, the two phials disappeared to wherever he thought they were safest. Wherever that was, Minerva trusted him to know best. Mostly, she was relieved that they had successfully accomplished what they had set out to do and hadn't traipsed through the forest in vain.
"Is that the hint of a smile I detect? The forest wouldn't be growing on you, now would it?" Dumbledore joked.
"Hardly," Minerva said. "But perhaps I feel a little better about it. At least I understand what you said about the ways we find to torture ourselves – even if it's only in our head." Perhaps it was the twilight or the success of having procured the first two ingredients, but it gave her the audacity to ask, "That torture you mentioned... What's yours, sir?"
"One that is not meant to be shared, I'm afraid," Dumbledore rebuffed her not unexpectedly but also not too harshly.
"Doesn't that make it even worse?" Minerva asked quietly.
"Naturally," Dumbledore replied and then started heading back towards the castle.
Minerva hurried to follow him. Even though they hadn't met another living creature yet, she didn't want to stay behind and wait for that to change.
It was Professor Dumbledore who spoke next. "So, what's the plan for our first match against Hufflepuff? Herbert, that is, Professor Beery has been trying to talk me into making a wager with him and I would like to know what I'm getting myself into."
Even if she had thought it likely that Professor Dumbledore would bet on a Quidditch game, Minerva would have guessed that he had a different reason for bringing it up now. "You're trying to distract me," she said.
"If you'd prefer to walk in silence, we can do that, of course," Dumbledore replied.
"No, I can talk Quidditch all day," Minerva assured him. "But you're trying to help me manage my anxiety, although you won't let me help with whatever weighs on your mind."
"And you think there's something wrong with that?"
"It's not fair. Why should you be alone with your problems?"
"Because," Dumbledore said calmly, "as unusual as this excursion has been, I'm still your teacher."
"You're also human," Minerva dared to point out.
She hadn't always felt that way. As a kid, Dumbledore had seemed more like an ideal than a person, a folktale hero of sorts, a very nice one certainly, but larger than life and not quite real. In the past six years, however, she had been around him enough to learn that such an image of Albus Dumbledore was not only ridiculously naïve but hurtful even.
As was so often the case, Professor Dumbledore seemed to understand exactly what she was saying. That it was meant as a compliment. "You are very kind," he said.
Which wasn't really an answer because it led them right back to her and not to him.
"But I'm not worthy of your trust."
"No, you are worth a lot more than that."
Minerva had no idea what to make of that response, other than to accept that she wouldn't convince Dumbledore to talk about something he didn't want to talk about.
"Hufflepuff has two new Chasers this year," she said eventually as they continued to walk back up to the castle side by side. "So I've been telling our Beaters to focus all of their Bludger attacks on them to throw them off their game as much as possible. Also, their Keeper's got a new Cleansweep Five, which is a great broom, unless you're playing Keeper and can't handle your broom's sudden acceleration yet. I expect he'll overshoot his mark a couple of times and leave the goalposts undefended, giving us the chance to score."
"Oh my, sounds as though you've done a lot of reconnaissance," Dumbledore noted.
"It's my final year. Last chance to win the Quidditch Cup. So yes, I guess it's a little bit like going to war," Minerva admitted.
"As long as there are no casualties."
"It's Quidditch, sir. It's all part of the game."
"Is it only a game? I wonder sometimes," Dumbledore said. They were nearing the edge of the forest.
Glad to see daylight again, or at least the beginning of dawn, Minerva picked up the pace. "All I can tell you, Professor, is that we're going to flatten Hufflepuff with everything we've got."
"Then we should make sure to secure the next ingredient before Professor Beery decides to withhold it from us," Dumbledore said and directed them not towards the front doors of the castle but towards the greenhouses. "Luckily, we won't have to go out of our way to get our hands on a Mandrake leaf because we currently have some in our greenhouses."
"Greenhouse three, I know," Minerva nodded. When she saw Dumbledore's raised eyebrow, she added, "Which I only found out by accident."
Dumbledore hummed dubiously, but he didn't say anything and unlocked greenhouse three. The Mandrakes were still sleeping when they approached them and Minerva quickly collected the leaf she needed.
"Now, it just so happens that we'll have a full moon tonight," Dumbledore told her on the way back to the Entrance Hall. "So you will need to carry this leaf in your mouth from today until the next full moon."
"You're kidding!" Minerva said, looking from the leaf to her Head of House. She had known that a Mandrake leaf was needed, but she hadn't taken the rest of the instructions seriously. In six years of Potions lessons she had learned of many potent potions that needed time to stew but not in her own saliva.
"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore replied, but he didn't sound very sorry.
"What if I swallow it?" Minerva asked.
"Then we shall have to start over again."
"What if I choke on it?" she said wryly.
Dumbledore gave her a look, letting her know that if she made more jokes about her dying, these lessons would end sooner rather than later. But it was more than just a joke. It was an actual serious concern when she pictured herself falling asleep with that leaf in her mouth.
Professor Dumbledore seemed to agree. "The leaf cannot be magically altered in any way. But this should help." He pointed his wand at her throat. It tickled slightly, and she was sure that if the leaf were to get caught there, it would simply dissolve now rather than harm her. Which still wouldn't get her any closer to her actual goal.
Heaving a sigh, Minerva inspected the leaf in her hand and then put it in her mouth. It tasted bitter and burned on her tongue. She wanted to spit it back out immediately. The thought that she couldn't, not for another month, brought tears to her eyes.
"You do remember that no one is forcing you to do this," Dumbledore said gently.
She could only glare at him since she hadn't figured out how to talk with this thing in her mouth yet.
"I see, well, that was all we could accomplish today. But since it's barely even time for breakfast, I'd say that's rather a lot, don't you?"
Minerva would have thanked him, but she was trying too hard not to retch. She wasn't exactly sure what would come out of her mouth if she opened it now.
"There is no need for words," Dumbledore told her. "I shall see you at breakfast or perhaps," he added, eyeing the nauseated look on her face, "in class."
Suddenly Minerva was glad that she couldn't speak or she might have begged him not to leave her like this. But Professor Dumbledore had neither come up with this nor had he particularly wanted her to do it.
So Minerva returned to Gryffindor Tower, without any idea how she would make it through the next 29 days.
In short, it was torture.
Minerva tried different things like sticking the leaf to the roof of her mouth or bunching it up in the corner of her left or right cheek, but it would always get in the way again eventually. Whenever that happened, she talked like someone had hit her with a Tongue-Tying Curse, which caused the other teachers to give her rather strange looks.
In the meantime Minerva slept as little as possible and ate even less. During Quidditch she regularly had a coughing fit when she went too fast and nearly swallowed the bloody thing. Her teammates tried to send her to the hospital wing several times. She wished she could have actually gone to see Madam Hailstone, but she was afraid that the matron would make her spit out the Mandrake leaf. Also, she didn't want to get herself or Professor Dumbledore in trouble. They had agreed not to advertise what Minerva was attempting to do. Not just yet anyway when she was so close to failing her very first actual task.
But she didn't.
Four nightmarish weeks later she burst back into Professor Dumbledore's office. "'ull 'oon!"
"Come again?" he said, looking up from his work.
Minerva shifted the Mandrake leaf into a different corner of her mouth. "Full moon," she repeated.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and nodded. "I must say I admire your discipline. If I remember correctly, I swallowed that leaf three times..."
"Thank you, sir, but could we...?"
"Oh, yes." He stood and opened a window to check the sky. It was a bit cloudy, but not too much. Just now some of the clouds parted and a bright moon shone high overhead. Honestly, Minerva didn't know what she would have done if the moon had stayed hidden tonight. Jumping from the top of the North Tower came to mind.
"We should go now," Dumbledore decided and once again he led her out of the castle. But this time they didn't need to go all the way into the Forbidden Forest. They stopped in a quiet corner of the school grounds where they were completely bathed in moonlight.
Dumbledore conjured a small crystal phial and finally Minerva was allowed to take the leaf out of her mouth and place it inside the phial. She tried not to look at the leaf too closely. It was pretty disgusting, all chewed up and steeped in her saliva, but then again, that was the whole point.
Next, Dumbledore instructed her how to prepare the potion by adding to the moonstruck crystal phial the other ingredients, the silver teaspoon of dew, the Hawk Moth chrysalis and a hair from her own head. The mixture still didn't look finished, but that's because it wasn't.
"It will now have to rest undisturbed in a quiet, dark place until the next electrical storm," Dumbledore said. Minerva was more than fine with letting him keep it safe.
But she wasn't fine with the waiting. "What kind of instructions are these? What if it's months or years until the next lightning storm? It's as if they don't even want anyone to become an Animagus."
"Or the purpose is simply to make quite sure that you're ready for the power you will eventually receive."
"I'm ready now."
"No," Dumbledore said. "You're not." Before Minerva could comment, he continued, "You will now have to proceed by placing the tip of your wand over your heart and saying the Animagus incantation at every sunrise and sundown. You have to do it at the correct times and you cannot omit a single occasion, not for Quidditch practice, homework or anything else. No matter how long it takes. It can feel like menial work after some time, but it's vital to prepare yourself for the transformation."
Her Head of House paused as though to give her time to protest or change her mind, but she didn't. Now that Minerva could eat and talk again without impediment, getting up at sunrise seemed like a small price to pay.
"I think I would like you to do it in my presence, just to be safe," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.
"You want me to come to your office every sunrise and sundown?" Minerva clarified.
"For now. If there should be no lightning storms until your graduation, I of course won't insist on you coming back to Hogwarts twice a day." The corner of Dumbledore's mouth twitched, but Minerva did not find that funny at all.
A/N: As far as I know there's no official word on whether Dumbledore is an Animagus or what his Animagus form would be. All we know is that his Patronus is a phoenix and so I went from there. It seems only logical that Albus is an Animagus, but it also seems as though he's not using that skill. So I felt there should be an explanation for that. But that's only my personal interpretation. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on the matter.