56. Calm Before the Storm
They had almost made it to Christmas without another incident. The decorations had gone up, the students were getting excited about the upcoming holidays, but the mood among the staff was still subdued.
Among most members of staff anyway.
Albus had entered the staffroom to ask Minerva a quick question only. Instead, Lockhart jumped up from his chair and blocked Albus' view with one of his broad grins. "Dumbledore! Just the man I've been waiting for!"
"What can I do for you, Gilderoy?" Albus asked pleasantly. He had used that voice a lot lately, trying to calm down the school governors.
"Oh no, it's not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you and this entire school," Lockhart replied.
Somebody in the room coughed, covering up something that sounded suspiciously like 'Leave.'
Lockhart hadn't been listening. "Recent events have caused quite a lot of concern, so I've been thinking we should remind everyone that there's no reason to fear because I'm here! And I'm willing to share my vast knowledge with the students even outside of class. I would like to start an official Duelling Club."
"A Duelling Club?" Albus repeated, buying himself some time to think.
"Yes, to teach the students how to defend themselves. In an entirely safe environment, of course. I'm not suggesting that we ask the students to battle dangerous beasts as I have done on numerous occasions and written about extensively. As a matter of fact, my autobiography Magical Me has just sold…"
"Thank you, Gilderoy. That sounds very commendable," Albus interrupted him before this conversation could drag on.
"Well, I didn't get an Order of Merlin for nothing, now did I?" He laughed. "Anyway, I'll get right on it then!"
Once Lockhart had hurried off, Albus could actually see the rest of the room, including Minerva. She did not look happy in the least.
"A Duelling Club, Albus? The only reason there haven't been any more Lockhart-related accidents is that he's stopped trying to do magic in class. If you let him do this, somebody will end up in a hospital bed again!"
"That might not be so bad as long as it's him," Filius argued. He seemed to take it as a personal insult that Lockhart was a fellow Ravenclaw.
"But what if it's a student?" Pomona cautioned.
"Considering Lockhart's ineptitude as well as the average intelligence of the students, this does sound extremely unwise, if not to say downright dangerous," Severus offered.
Albus surveyed the room and his four Heads of House. It really was quite an accomplishment that Lockhart had managed to unite them in their hatred of him. "Oh my, I can't seem to remember the last time you were all in agreement with one another. Very well, I shall listen to your concerns. But I do think that it would be beneficial to allow the students to partake in Gilderoy's little club. Nothing generates more fear than to sit around and feel helpless to do anything about it. What we need then is someone to supervise this event."
He had never witnessed a room go quiet so fast.
"Someone who has already done marvellously, making up for Gilderoy's limitations so far?" Albus suggested, glancing in Minerva's direction.
"I still have a bunch of letters from parents to answer and I really want to get through them all before there'll be new ones coming in if this Duelling Club idea goes south." She gave him her best 'Don't you dare make me do this or else' look.
Albus quickly moved on. "Or perhaps a former Duelling Champion?"
Filius went red in the face. "Oh, I couldn't possibly! I'll be terribly busy with… choir rehearsals. Music can be just as powerful as a wand."
Pomona didn't even wait for Albus to look at her. "And I was never any good at duelling. Plus, with all this snow coming down, I have to watch the Mandrakes closely. Their health is even more important now that we also need to cure a student."
Albus nodded and smiled at the only remaining person in the room. "Then it looks like you just won the job, Severus."
The loathing on his face could have struck fear into the heart of an enemy more efficiently than any curse in existence.
Which was a good way to make sure this Duelling Club wouldn't get too much out of hand, Albus figured.
Alas, he figured wrong.
A few days later he and Minerva were going over the list of names of everyone who would stay in the castle for the holidays when Severus came sweeping into his office.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be watching Lockhart?" Minerva asked right away.
"The club came to an unexpected early end," Severus replied with a curious look on his face.
"What happened? What did he do? Who did he maim this time?"
"It wasn't him. Potter and Malfoy were chosen as a volunteer pair to duel one another while the rest of the students watched them. Draco conjured a snake." Severus conveniently failed to mention who had told Mr Malfoy how to do that. No second-year student would have likely thought of that particular spell on their own. "I was about to step in and get rid of it when Potter revealed himself to be a Parselmouth."
The scroll of parchment Minerva had been holding slipped through her fingers in surprise. Albus opened his mouth and closed it again while Severus stared at him intently.
"Did you know about this, Dumbledore?"
Had he known about this? He had suspected it, feared it, agonised over it, bargained with himself… but he supposed it was time to accept the truth. The truth about what had happened that night when Voldemort had tried to kill Harry. What he had accidentally done to Harry, what he had turned him into. But oh, how to live with that truth? How to let the boy know?
Impossible.
It was too soon. Too abhorrent. Too defeatist. There had to be another way, a chance, a hope. There he was bargaining again. But it was better than the alternative, namely, to allow himself to feel so forlorn and so very tired.
"Albus?" Minerva's voice built a bridge for him to come back to the present. "Are you okay?"
He managed a weak smile for her before he looked at Severus again. "Thank you for telling me."
Annoyed that his question had gone unanswered, the Potions master hissed, "So what now?"
"Nothing has changed, Severus," Albus told him.
"For you maybe. But anyone else who didn't believe Potter to be the Heir of Slytherin already will certainly do so now."
"That's ludicrous!" Minerva snapped.
"Which has never stopped people from believing anything," Severus sneered. "Then again, how many Gryffindors do you know who can speak Parseltongue? How many wizards?"
She didn't respond, so Albus did, "We can't change people's minds other than by setting a good example and going on as usual."
"If you say so, Dumbledore." Resigned to the fact that he wouldn't get any other answers, Severus left.
"I assume you'll put an end to this Duelling Club now?" Minerva inquired after a moment of quiet.
"I suppose so. Unless you're volunteering to take over," Albus teased her mildly.
"Certainly not." She paused. "Although permission from you to duel Severus might just be worth it. I wonder who would be the last one left standing."
Albus' brow creased. "That's a definite no to the Duelling Club then."
"Because you think I wouldn't stand a chance against Severus?"
"Because I know that no matter who would win, I'd be the one losing," he said morosely.
He was often told that he had a way of X-raying people with his eyes, but Minerva's look wasn't far off either. "You never thought Potter was the Heir of Slytherin. Not even for a minute. Why are you so upset that he's a Parselmouth? It's another thing that's strange about him, certainly, and another reason for people to shoot their mouths off. But for a moment there you looked as though somebody had just died."
Whatever else his eyes did, Albus couldn't take them off her as he marvelled at her female intuition.
"What are you looking at now?" she asked, frowning.
"Your brilliance."
Her frown deepened. "I don't feel particularly brilliant when I have to ask you questions you refuse to answer."
"You probably won't believe this, but sometimes it's easier not to have all the answers. Harry's ability to speak Parseltongue comes from his connection to Voldemort and that, I'm sure we can both agree, is not something to wish on anyone."
Minerva flinched. "What connection? You-Know-Who tried to kill him! I wouldn't call that a way to connect with anyone."
"Oh, but it is. Hate and fear can be just as powerful as love. Only while love gives, fear takes away. Which is why I keep telling you to say his name."
At this, she quickly averted her eyes. "I know, I know. I'm trying."
Albus reached for her hand. "That's all any of us can do."
Gilderoy Lockhart had finally left the castle.
Only temporarily, unfortunately, but Minerva would take what she could get. Of course, Lockhart wasn't the only one. Most students and members of staff had gone home for Christmas and Minerva had never been happier to watch them go. Because it meant that she didn't have to worry about them.
There had been another attack. Mere days before the end of term. A second-year student from Hufflepuff had been petrified this time – as well as the Gryffindor ghost Sir Nicholas, which terrified everyone even more. And to add insult to injury, Potter had been right in the middle of it once again. It was as though he enjoyed being condemned in the court of public opinion. Or wanted to get himself killed. Minerva had brought him to Albus so he could talk some sense into him. She doubted it had done anyone any good.
All in all she felt like cancelling Christmas altogether. Not surprisingly, Albus strongly disagreed. He even made everyone sing Christmas carols during Christmas dinner. It did lighten the mood for a while. Until Poppy asked Minerva to come to the hospital wing a couple of hours later.
"It was not another attack," were the first words out of Poppy's mouth when Minerva arrived, looking frantic.
"Thank Merlin!" Minerva breathed.
"It's not pretty, though," Poppy warned her. "I can't tell you what she did – you know I don't ask questions – but it looks like it's more your department than mine."
Poppy pointed towards one of the beds and Minerva was even less prepared for what she saw than she would have been in case of another attack. It was Hermione Granger, but she looked like a cautionary tale for anyone who thought about experimenting with Human Transfiguration. She now had the fur, face and tail of a cat, while the rest of her was still a human girl.
When Minerva approached her hospital bed, Miss Granger sat up so fast she nearly fell out of it. "Professor McGonagall! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to… It was an accident. I…" She suddenly stopped babbling and started gagging, a hand going to her throat.
Minerva recognised the symptoms immediately. "Just spit it out, girl! Get it out."
Her eyes watering, Granger brought up a hairball and spit it into her hands. She eyed it in disgust and then looked at Minerva, completely mortified. "I'm so sorry, Professor! I didn't mean for you to see that. I just can't seem to stop them from coming out."
"You don't want to try to keep them in. Trust me on that," Minerva said irritably and made the hairball disappear with a flick of her wand. "But that should be the least of your worries right now."
Miss Granger hung her head. "I know. I broke the rules. You'll have to put me in detention." She lifted her eyes again, almost hopeful. "I could help Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail for the rest of the year, if you like."
"What I would like is for you to let me decide on your punishment," Minerva said, her nostrils flaring. The fact that Miss Granger would volunteer to spend time with Lockhart disgusted her more than a bucket full of hairballs.
The girl reddened as though she had guessed her thoughts. "Yes, Professor. Sorry, Professor."
"First, there's the matter of what you did exactly." Minerva waited. When there was no answer, she prompted, "Well?"
"I can't say." Miss Granger's voice was barely above a whisper.
Minerva's on the other hand was a lot louder. "Can't say? Or won't? Would you prefer to stay like this then?"
"No," she said in a small voice. "But couldn't you change me back without knowing?"
"I'm disappointed in you, Miss Granger. I thought you were the one listening to me when I speak in class."
"I am!" she professed eagerly.
"Then you should remember me telling you that Human Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous areas of magic in existence. It can never be attempted without knowing what one wants to do – or try to reverse," Minerva explained sternly.
Miss Granger's tail flicked back and forth, a tell-tale sign how scared she really was. "But surely, you could, Professor?"
"No, I really couldn't."
Both her tail and her ears drooped. "But it wasn't a spell and I didn't try to experiment with Transfiguration magic. I can't tell you any more than that, Professor. I don't want to get other people in trouble. If that means I'll have to stay this way, then…" she couldn't finish that sentence.
Minerva had a fairly good idea who these 'other people' were, whom she didn't want to name. To her surprise it softened her anger a little because she had to admire Miss Granger's loyalty and her willingness for self-sacrifice, as ill-advised as it was in this case.
Poppy came over to check on the girl and informed them that the potion she had given her upon arrival seemed to be taking effect, albeit slowly. It was proof that Miss Granger had told the truth. This was neither Transfiguration nor – as Minerva had feared for a moment – Animagus magic.
The relief brought a smile to Miss Granger's lips, or something that resembled a smile at least.
Minerva felt the same way, but she said, "I hope you realise that you got lucky. I must strongly advise you to stop doing whatever it is you did or the next time you experiment with magic that you don't understand, the consequences might be a lot more severe than missing class for a couple of weeks."
"Weeks?" If Miss Granger's face hadn't been covered in black fur, she would have gone pale as a ghost. "I can't miss school, Professor! You were going to tell us about Transubstantial Transfiguration after the holidays and I need to start revising for the exams soon! You have to let me come to class!"
"Absolutely not. You can't possibly show up looking like this. You'd scare the living daylights out of half of your classmates and give the other half bad ideas."
"But Professor…"
"You really should have thought about this beforehand," Minerva said, satisfied that this was worse than any punishment she could have administered. "I'm sure Mr Potter and Mr Weasley will take notes for you." When Miss Granger looked sceptical, Minerva added, "In fact, that'll do them a lot of good, too."
Miss Granger seemed to accept her fate and Minerva turned to leave.
"Professor?"
"Yes?" she asked, stopping on her way out.
"I really am sorry," Miss Granger said earnestly. "I do love your classes, and we only wanted to help."
"With what?" Minerva suspected she already knew the answer. Miss Granger was looking at the beds where the curtains had been drawn around Colin Creevey and Justin Finch-Fletchley.
Sure enough Miss Granger said, "Protecting the school and the Muggle-born students."
"That is not your job."
"But it's not your job either, is it? You're supposed to teach us, not chase after monsters and fight for the school to stay open. It's not right and it must be so difficult for you."
Minerva was too surprised to answer at first. "Don't worry about Hogwarts, Miss Granger. As long as there are clever young witches like yourself, willing to learn from any mistakes they might have made, this school will have its place."
The girl smiled shyly and nodded.
After leaving the hospital wing Minerva headed back to Albus' study. He wasn't there, but Fawkes was. He had finally been reborn a few days ago, the day of the attack in fact. Smiling to herself, Minerva picked him up and settled back in Albus' favourite armchair, holding Fawkes gently in her hands. While she watched the snow fall peacefully outside the window, the phoenix pulsed with warmth and light.
She heard a door open and then a chuckle. "Caught in the act."
"You said not to take him to bed. I didn't," Minerva said without looking up. "And you can't deny how adorable he is when he's this small."
Albus laughed. "You both are."
"Make fun if you want. I know he's immortal and not actually as young as he looks right now, but he likes being taken care of. Last time he burned it wasn't really my place and I stayed away after that first night. Luckily, I have since then stopped pretending that I don't love you both."
Albus crouched down next to the armchair to smile at the baby phoenix. "I don't remember you staying away back then either. I remember that you invited yourself for a game of chess the very next day."
"Are you complaining?"
"Never." He rose just enough to give her a soft, lingering kiss.
Fawkes grew so warm and bright in her hands, between that and Albus' lips Minerva felt as though the sun had risen inside her heart.
"I know the two of you are perfectly comfortable right here," Albus said, "but I believe I still owe you a walk."
The swirling snow did look tempting. And during the Christmas break the castle was so empty and everyone in it too busy enjoying the holidays that they didn't have to be so careful about being seen together. Also, Fawkes had fallen deeply asleep by now.
Minerva set him down carefully, put a cloak on and then left the castle with Albus. They trudged through the snow and didn't meet another soul until they had passed Hagrid's cabin. The gamekeeper was impossible to miss, even in the snow. But he wasn't alone. Minerva briefly reached for Albus' hand in surprise and wonder.
A small herd of unicorns had come out of the Forbidden Forest, drawn to the food Hagrid had put out for them. Their perfectly white coats gleamed even brighter than the snow. One of the unicorns raised its head to look at Albus and Minerva. She had never seen eyes like that. Dark as night, but just as gentle and pure. The unicorn nickered, deemed them trustworthy and resumed eating.
Hagrid turned around to see what had caught the unicorn's attention. "Evenin', Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. Didn' see yeh there."
"Good evening, Hagrid. And Merry Christmas," Albus replied cheerfully.
"Right. Merry Christmas ter yeh as well." Minerva was still watching the unicorns and Hagrid followed her gaze. "Beautiful, aren' they?"
"Remarkably," she agreed. "But didn't you say they were too shy to come this close?"
"Some o' them are. Some o' them get a little friendlier in the winter when food is rare. Bin feedin' them regularly." He paused. "Were yeh lookin' fer me?" He seemed to blanch suddenly as far as Minerva could tell despite the woolly balaclava he was wearing. "Yeh didn' come ter tell me ter pack me things, did yeh?"
"My dear Hagrid, whatever gave you that idea?" Albus asked.
"Well, bin three attacks now, so I figured it was jus' a matter of time." He fidgeted nervously. "I'm no' so much worried 'bout me, bu' Aragog is completely innocent! Jus' like he was las' time. Bin talkin' ter him an' he doesn' know anythin' or at least he's no' tellin'."
Albus held up a hand. "No one is going to hurt him, Hagrid. Nor you, if I can help it."
The gamekeeper took a breath. "Thanks, Professor. I gotta go then. Still need ter put that charm aroun' the hen-coop." He waved to them, showering them both with snow.
Minerva watched him walk away and tried to shake some of the snow out of her hair. "He has reason to be worried, Albus."
"I know," he said thoughtfully. "But then we all do. Not tonight, though. It's Christmas after all."
"What does that change?"
"As much or as little as we allow it to." Albus held his hand out to her again.
It should have been cold by now, but it wasn't. It was wonderfully warm when she took it and let him lead the way.