When I went in to my Career Consultation, Professor McGonagall began with, "Ms. Kingsley, is there anything besides the Career Consultation that you wish to speak about?"
"No," I responded immediately and quickly followed up with a softer, "thank you."
"Very well. Then, I have heard from Professor Dumbledore that you have expressed interest in becoming a wand-maker?"
"Oh, I-" Taken by surprise that Ollivander had contacted Professor Dumbledore about me, I found myself at a loss of words. "Um, I don't know what to say."
"Well, Headmaster Dumbledore believes it is a very suitable occupation for you," Professor McGonagall said, peering at a note in her hand. "Though I must say, Ms. Kingsley, that this situation is highly unusual. Wand-makers are usually born into talent through family bloodlines and rarely totally studied. Not unlike Metamorphagi."
"Now," she continued briskly. "I see your academics have been improving quite steadily over the years, though you will need to put in some good hard work for Potions and Divination for N.E.W.T levels. Steady work in Arithmancy, Astronomy, and History of Magic, good. Excellent work in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Ancient Runes. Professors Elgar, Flitwick, and Maudrick are very pleased with your work. However, though your work has been acceptable in my class, it has been just, and I'd say you would need to show some more improvement in Transfiguration and Herbology before the year is out."
Professor McGonagall shook her head as if trying to get certain images out of her head. I was sure that Zayne Finnigan yelling with his eyebrows on fire and my slamming his face with my book while screaming to put out the flames was one of them.
Another time was probably when he'd shattered the wine glass we were working on and his desk exploded like a bomb. Professor McGonagall's quick reaction saved his front from being blown off though he'd not escaped the sooty ash that lay all over him. He'd drooped forward onto his desk, clutching his heart. When Professor McGonagall asked him if he was all right, he had nodded and said fervently, "I love you, Minerva McGonagall," to which Professor McGonagall had promptly given him detention for inappropriate language. But she hadn't turned away quick enough to hide the blush spreading across her face.
"Yes," Professor McGonagall answered crisply, abruptly pulling me out of my thoughts. "Mr. Finnigan will have to show his non-combustible talents to me if he wishes to carry on with the subject as well."
A small note of humor rose within me, but it was quickly distinguished by the gloom in my heart as I knew I had to tell McGonagall what I intended now.
"Professor, actually-" I began, determined to stop avoiding the reason why I was here, but she steamrollered over me, intent on flipping through the many papers in a folder in front of her.
She continued, "For the profession of wand-making, the classes you would have to take in sixth and seventh year are very, very rare. In fact, I am unsure as to how many of these will be viable options for you. However, I think the instructions are quite clear. You should aim to achieve at least E's in Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology. I would also recommend getting to N.E.W.T. level in Potions, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and History of Magic, if possible. Any questions?"
"Professor," I said, almost shamefully. "I'm… Well, I'm Muggle-born."
Professor McGonagall continued scanning the parchment in her hand as she replied, "Yes, you are, but regardless of your blood status, Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Ollivander believe you have the talents to become a wand-maker."
"No, what I meant-" I faltered for a moment before pulling through and finishing, "What I meant is that I'm going to return to the Muggle World. Where I belong."
Professor McGonagall's eyes finally lifted from the parchment and landed on me. "You cannot possibly mean that you intend to renounce magic, Ms. Kingsley."
"Yes," I mumbled, looking away, "it is."
Professor McGonagall was, for the first time in my memory, shocked into silence.
Finally, she found her voice, though it sounded quite uncertain, "You- you're sure of this, Ms. Kingsley?"
Feeling the hotness of tears welling up inside me, I simply nodded instead of replying.
"Ms. Kingsley." McGonagall had found some of her sternness again. "Ms. Kingsley, look at me."
With much difficulty, I lifted my eyes up to hers. She studied me for a long moment and then she asked. "Do you remember when Jamie was selected to go to Hogwarts?"
Jamie's name pushed the tears all the way to my lashes but I refused to let them fall.
"Yes," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
"What do you remember?"
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I answered as calmly as I could, "Well, I was very young. But I remember you were the one who explained everything to us, Professor. And I think my sister tried to bite you because she thought you were crazy."
Professor McGonagall snorted. "Yes, your sister was quite adamant that I was a mad old bat. But you and your siblings were Gryffindors from the very beginning, I remember thinking that."
"No I'm not," I disagreed. "And respectfully, Professor, you don't have try to make me feel better. I know I'm not really a Gryffindor at heart. I'm… not even a real witch at heart."
"As a child, you stared at me with those frightened eyes, it's true. In fact, you've never outgrown those eyes. You have them every day, if only for a brief moment, whether you are on the Quidditch field or in my class. And you have those eyes today, now. I know you are afraid," Professor McGonagall said.
"But when I stepped towards your brother, it was also you who stepped in front of him, to protect him. You have always shown a willingness to protect those you held dear," she said softly.
"But don't you see?" I almost begged. "That's what I've got to do now. Professor, continuing to use magic is the same as continuing to put my family in the line of fire! Unlike my siblings, I'm no good at magic so I'm not a real threat right now, and if I just stop using magic at this very moment, no one in my family would be meddling in magical affairs anymore. No one would be in any more danger!"
"And they'll thank you for that, will they?" Professor McGonagall asked, her voice a strange mixture of pity and harshness. "They'll thank you for sacrificing everything they believe in?"
"I don't care," I said fiercely. "I want them safe."
"Don't be foolish," McGonagall retorted sharply. "If no one is willing to stand up and fight, everyone with the least bit of magical blood is in danger! Your siblings did what they had to, but you are running away!"
"Professor McGonagall," I said in a bottled voice, forcing myself from screaming at her. "I can't make a great difference in the magical world. Whether I have the willpower to is irrelevant because I don't have the ability to. I never will! I'm talentless and I will always be weak. I've tried! I've tried to study, to be more confident, to be the best Quidditch player. But I've had to accept that there is no one thing that allows me to be the best, to make a difference. And I've accepted that. But what I can do is save my family. And that's what I'm going to do. No matter what. No matter who hates me. Even if it is my own family."
"Well, that's if you chose failure", McGonagall responded cuttingly, "and chose to follow the path that rejects the honorable thing to do for yourself and believe it or not, for your family."
"You don't understand," I said shortly.
"I may understand a lot better than you think," McGonagall replied. I angrily looked away from her.
There was a tense moment of silence that hung in the air, before McGonagall broke it in the most unimaginable way possible.
"I was betrothed to a Muggle."
Shocked, I nearly gawped at her.
"Yes," she faintly smiled at the look of disbelief on my face. "His name was Dougal McGregor, and he was the son of a local farmer. He was handsome, clever, and funny. We were quite in love, you know. But I also knew what the consequences were. At the time, it was unthinkable to tell a Muggle about your magical abilities, especially if you were a woman. Locking away my wand, shredding all my future ambitions and dreams, having to hide away any children I might possibly have when they were too young to control their magical abilities… I'd seen all of these things in my mother. When my mother sent me to Hogwarts, she was proud of me, yes, but she was also jealous of me. My own mother..."
McGonagall's eyes were seeing something other than her office nor me, in front of her.
"So I broke off the engagement. Of course I could offer him no honest explanation. I could not confess what I was, because that would be breaking the International Statute of Secrecy. And I left for London the very next morning."
Her misty gaze met mine and she offered a small smile that showed the depths of her heartbreak which she achingly felt, even now.
"Now you might think that this was a regrettable action. That I was cowardly and selfish- choosing my own ambitions over my betrothed's happiness, even my own feelings!"
I stayed silent. This was almost exactly what I'd been thinking.
"But it's not quite so simple, Ms. Kingsley," the Professor said, her wise eyes on me. "You see, even if I had stayed with him, I would have had to restrain my dreams. And dreams are such an important part of who one is. Over time, I would have been miserable and he frustrated, and our relationship would become tainted with distrust and frustration. Do you understand? Marrying him, promising my life to him and yet sacrificing my life to him- don't you see that that is the greatest disservice I could render him? The only way I could have married him is if I had not loved him, but I did, at the time, truly love him."
Her eyes glistened again, but a lovely smile was on her face.
I spoke slowly, trying to comprehend what she was trying to tell me. "Are you saying that the greatest disservice I could do to my family, especially to my frightened and suffering parents, is to stop trying to be a better witch?"
With that same sad smile, Professor McGonagall replied softly, "Yes."
The first lasting snow fell on Hogwarts that night. Not slush, but real crystals of almost-sticky snowflakes. Ecstatic and miserable students alike were pressed to all of the windows, peering out at the vast grounds of Hogwarts as it was gently veiled with the softest white the color of starshine itself. The Forbidden Forest was masked in snow as well, the treetops seemed frosted in sugar and its branches laced with icicles that appeared to be ribbons of diamond. I lay in bed, watching the snowflakes twirl past the window, thinking of everything McGonagall had told me.
When the girls came in, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep until I actually did fall asleep to the sound of their murmuring voices.
"Ray, are you going to class today?", Alice asked me, gently shaking me awake.
I lay there for a moment. Am I going to class today?
"Ray?" Alice asked.
"Yeah. Thanks, Alice," I replied, and rolled out of bed to throw on some clothes.
I apologized to the girls for having been so moody yesterday, but they all forgave me gracefully. We walked down to The Great Hall for breakfast together, passing by the House Points hourglasses.
And then we did a double pass.
The emeralds in the Slytherin hourglass had been replaced by heavy stones that barely fit through the middle of the hourglass and landed with disturbing loud clanks at the bottom every time the Slytherins gained points. If the stones fell to signal the rewarding of the points, the stones reflected phrases such as:
"What are we really rewarding here?"
"Did you think that one through?"
"She doesn't even go here!"
On the other hand if points were taken away, the sound of roaring applause echoed throughout the hallway and the stones said:
"Now, that's better."
"Glad you stood up for what's right."
"That's right, you filthy animals."
Dorcas, Alice, and I looked down at these stones with a mixture of disgust, amusement, and awe. Marlene snickered loudly and complimented them gleefully, saying, "Brilliant." Lily was absolutely vehement, hissing, "This is defacement of school property!"
"Oh, don't be so uptight, Lily flower. It's not really defacement of school property, not if it's done in the name of truth."
We whirled around to see the boys standing there, all looking quite pleased with themselves, though Remus had the decency to look slightly abashed.
"Yes, Potter, it is!" Lily retorted angrily. "Not to mention it is the most immature thing I've ever seen."
"You've not seen enough of the world, then, darling," James smirked. "But you know, I could show you. That is, if you'd go out with-"
"No, Potter," Lily's eyes flashed and she began to turn away when James opened his mouth to address her again. Dorcas cut him off, saying, "Can you cut her a break today, you madman?"
James innocently spread his hands as if helpless and said, "Me? But I'm innocent."
Marlene tapped the hourglass loudly enough to draw his attention to it.
"I don't think innocent is quite the word you were looking for," Marlene said, grinning.
James raced up to the hourglass excitedly, like a child on Christmas.
"D'you like it?" he said happily, marveling as if it were some artistic masterpiece.
Lily stormed off.
"It's gorgeous," Marlene beamed. Sirius slid an arm around her shoulder. Marlene looked up at him and smiled brilliantly, reaching up to intertwine their fingers.
"You know if you add a -ly to Sirius' name, it can only be Sily or Siriously," Dorcas breathed into my ear. I snorted so loudly I had to pretend it was a cough, covering my mouth with my hand.
"It's not too much, is it?" Remus asked, studying the hourglasses.
"No, mate, it was a brilliant idea of yours," Sirius reassured Remus, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "but then again, you are-"
"Don't," Remus smashed his palm onto Sirius' wide-open mouth, for Sirius had just been about to bellow another ridiculous version of his name. "If you call my name out here, everyone's going to know it was us."
"As if they don't already," Dorcas scoffed.
"You know, I get the vague notion that Slughorn won't be too pleased with this," Peter remarked.
"Or McGonagall," Alice commented, smiling.
"Nah," James said, leading the way to the Great Hall. "She just pretends to hate it because she's supposed to. She loves it. She loathes Slytherins as much as us, especially their Quidditch players."
"Why's that?" Peter asked curiously.
"Oh, she used to play Seeker for Gryffindor, you know. Got into a nasty foul in her last year- broken ribs, concussion, and all that- and Gryffindor not only lost the Cup but she couldn't ever play again. So she's got a lifelong desire to see the Slytherins crushed on the pitch and if you ask me, she likes when we prank them in Hogwarts," James said, grinning as he slyly slid into the seat next to Lily. She glared at him but said nothing.
"How do you know this, James?" Sirius asked. "Been having a heart-to-heart with Minnie?"
"Nah, Dumbledore told me."
"Dumbledore?" Lily repeated in disbelief, looking past her Daily Prophet to glare at James. "You have heart-to-hearts with Dumbledore?"
"Course I do," he said, shoving toast in his mouth. "Well, not exactly heart-to-hearts…" he admitted a second later, between bites. He gave an enormous swallow before saying, "He called me to his office once to ask me to stop nicking the Snitch so often. I was driving Filch and Madam Hooch crazy, he said. I said, why not? They like each other, don't they? Give them an argument, let some of their er- friendly tension out-"
"You said that to our Headmaster?" Lily exclaimed.
"Yeh, iz the truth, innit?" James said, shoveling down eggs at top speed. He gulped. "So then, one thing led to another, I was saying I need the Snitch for extra practice and McGonagall would approve, on and on, and eventually, I asked him the same question you did- and that's what he told me. Told me she had a very unfair life. Not enough love in her life, poor girl." He tried to look somber but it was difficult to look somber as one scarfs bacon like there's no tomorrow. However, having heard McGonagall's story just last night, I felt a pang of pain in my heart.
"Anyways," he said, downing a goblet of orange juice in one and slamming it on the table, "Sirius, Peter, Remus, and I have some work to do before class, so we'll be seeing you all later." He stood up and then turned to Lily and opened his mouth, but Dorcas again gave him a very nasty glare.
James paused, no doubt remembering how adept Dorcas was at pranks herself, bowed to Dorcas, and said, "For you, dear lady," before grabbing his stuff, detaching Sirius from Marlene and leaving with the others.
"Thanks," Lily said in a voice of relief to Dorcas once they'd left. She set down her newspaper to pour herself some pumpkin juice. I glanced at it cursorily to see the following headlines: Wizengamot Delays Over Ministry Decree Continues, Romania Declares Trade Violations On Egypt, Accidental Murder By Aged House-Elf, and Chudley Cannons Slaughtered Mercilessly By Even The Famously Bad Luxembourg Team...
"Anything interesting in the Prophet?" Alice asked. Lily shrugged and said, "Nothing in particular."
"What are you thinking so hard about, Ray?" Dorcas asked me. I had been reflecting on what Professor McGonagall had told me yesterday, but I wasn't about to divulge her past to the entire table. Instead, I said, "I thought it was Madam Pince that fancied Filch, not Madam Hooch".
We began to struggle our way through the massive field of snow to Herbology a few minutes later.
"Has it occurred to you, Lily, that if we weren't bloody always the first ones to class, we could just follow an already- made path?" Marlene asked as she pushed against the snow.
"I don't like being late," Lily replied curtly.
"My hands are freezing," Dorcas complained. "Here, let me try something. Bombarda Maxima!"
A sound like a cannon went off and a huge invisible force blasted into the snow in front of us.
The path was clear but only because the snow had been blasted with great force- onto us.
We were absolutely buried- all I could see, hear, smell, taste, and feel was powdery whiteness.
"Gweat," I heard Marlene say through a mouthful of snow. I heard her digging then she spat out the now-melted snow. "Really wonderful idea, Dorky." She paused, "Where the bloody hell are you?"
I'd just managed to get out of this boulder of snow myself and was now pulling Alice out.
Dorcas' hand waved from beneath another bank of snow.
"Here!" her muffled voice called.
Meanwhile, Alice and I helped dig Lily out, and we had to pull her, feet-first from the snow.
"Ow!" Dorcas yelled. "Marlene, you grabbed my hair!"
"Well, sorry, genius, there's no easy way to get you out," Marlene quipped back and finally pulled Dorcas out butt-first.
By the time the five of us were all straightened out, the majority of the class was on their way down.
"Wow," some Hufflepuff commented. "Such a convenient path."
Dorcas gritted her teeth to restrain herself from hexing him into oblivion.
All in all, we were very happy once we were safe and snug in the Herbology greenhouse, even though Lily seemed slightly upset that we weren't the first ones to be there.
When we trooped back up to the castle to wash ourselves from dragon dung, more formally known as 'fertilizer' and to clean our scratches from the Snargaluffs (save for Alice, who had a real knack for Herbology), I ran into Professor McGonagall in the Entrance Hall. Or rather, she was waiting for me there.
"Ms. Kingsley," she addressed me. "I see you did not stay in bed today."
"No, Professor," I answered.
"Very good," McGonagall nodded. "Then I have a few sheets of parchment that we did not get to during our Career Consultation. They provide descriptions of future classes and the requirements needed for such classes." She handed me a folder of papers.
"Yes, Professor," I answered.
"Then I shall see you in Transfiguration this afternoon."
"Right, I should go start that essay."
"You haven't left it off-!" Professor McGonagall's spectacles flashed alarmingly.
Hastily, I amended, "Just a joke, Professor!"
