Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Hello everyone. First of all, I owe everyone a huge apology for being away for such a very, very long time.
I had an intensely bad week in the middle of October, with several things that were not to my liking going on at the same time. I suffer with an anxiety disorder and, let's just say, it affected me very deeply. Because of this, my muse went poof! and died on me. Even when things went back to normal and I tried writing again, writer's block consumed my being and my muse continued to be MIA for quite a while after that. I am very thankful, though, because now it has come back in earnest. Happy New Year to everyone, and I hope it's a wonderful 2024 for all of my readers. I am very, very sorry for my long absence.
I have also decided, for now, to only work on this story. My other story, No Laughing Matter, is being put on hold. Honestly, it's because it's very hard to work on two major projects, and to keep all the subplots, various storylines, and all the characterizations straight in my head. I feel like that's why my muse vanishes sometimes, as well. And the fact is, I always looked forward to working on this story more than the other one. Keep Holding On has become so entirely personal to me. I hope that all those who are reading No Laughing Matter understand my decision. I'm not saying I'll never come back to it, but for now, I need to devote my full concentration to this one.
I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter with Ron and Hermione supporting each other through troubled times.
To be honest, I'd completely forgotten that Prefects aren't allowed to take points. Stupid, stupid me. My only justification is that I've seen it done in plenty of other fanfics, and after reading as many as I have, it's difficult not to get fanfic and canon confused when it comes to little rules like that. I'll attempt to remedy that in the next Ron and Hermione scene.
Here's a scene I've definitely been wanting to write for a while. One thing about it, though ... I wanted to warn you that McGonagall's characterization here is the way I saw her before Deathly Hallows canon. I was honestly shocked when, in the Great Hall, she forced all the Slytherins to leave before the final battle, even they wanted to fight for Hogwarts. I honestly never imagined McGonagall acting that prejudiced, thinking that all Slytherins were going to fight for Voldemort. I can imagine some of the students being very bitter about that, that they weren't allowed to show their true colors. I've seen some fanfics about that plot point over the years. And the fact that she seemed to praise Harry's use of the Cruciatus Curse appalled me.
So, McGonagall's views on Slytherins are different in this scene than in DH canon. I hope you guys enjoy it.
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It was about time, Minerva McGonagall thought as she straightened her spine and marched towards the Hogwarts gates. Her hair was in its normal no-nonsense bun, and she knew her expression was rather forbidding as she walked with purpose towards a meeting that, even though she did not show it, she was exceedingly nervous for.
After what seemed like an incredibly lengthy exchange of letters back and forth, the individuals that made up the Hogwarts Board of Governors had finally given Minerva McGonagall the time of day and decided to come to the school for a meeting in which the main discussion point would be, of course, the plight of Harry Potter.
Though Lucius Malfoy was no longer the Chairman of the Board and was currently entombed within Azkaban's walls, the man who had taken his place was, in certain ways, just as unpleasant. True, the man was no Death Eater; he despised them and wanted to see them destroyed. Wizards like You-Know-Who and his ilk should not be allowed to partake in society. McGonagall, of course, wholeheartedly agreed with this assessment. But what she and Herbert Strickle disagreed on was currently far more concerning to her.
It was one thing to want to punish all those who performed the grotesque bidding of that monster You-Know-Who. It was quite another to punish those who had not shown themselves to play any part in his deeds. For two years, she had watched as Dumbledore played the other man like a fiddle, knowing exactly the right things to say to make him back off his more ... interesting ideas.
Herbert Strickle wanted Slytherin House to be abolished. He thought that everyone who was Sorted there should be watched closely from the moment the Sorting Hat left their head. He did not seem to understand that ambition and cunning were not synonymous with evil. It didn't seem to register that the reason why so many Slytherins had turned to You-Know-Who was because that was the house he had been in at Hogwarts, and he'd recruited quite a few of his own peers, who taught his ideology to the next generation. It made sense to her, but oh, no. If it were up to Herbert Strickle, Slytherins might as well inhabit an Azkaban cell the moment they were Sorted.
She'd even had issues with Albus about Slytherin over the years, though he certainly didn't agree that they should be expelled from Hogwarts once they were relegated to the Slytherin table at the Welcoming Feast. But he had a habit of dismissing them more than the other Houses. As proud as she'd been of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville for what had happened at the end of first year (although the guilt for the part she had played in that whole debacle still cut her deeply to this day) the way Albus had made the Slytherins believe they'd won, then snatched the victory from their hands had never sat right with her. She understood the message Albus had been trying to send, especially with the ten points to Neville Longbottom - but she'd seen the Slytherins' faces. She'd seen how slighted they felt by those actions.
But Strickle was another story. He was downright irrational when it came to anything to do with Slytherin House. Honestly, he was downright irrational when it came to a lot of things ... including banning Harry Potter from attending this school.
Minerva McGonagall was not a parent. She couldn't say she completely understood how mothers and fathers felt, although she knew much too well what it felt like to want to do nothing more than nurture and protect children. After all, she'd spent decades teaching them, watching them pass through Hogwarts' corridors to grow up into talented, compassionate, incredible women and men. She remembered when, after the meeting where Sturgis had informed the Order that his house would soon become Headquarters, he had pleaded with McGonagall to make sure Benjamin was safe. The look in his eyes promised no end of pain if she did not protect him. That clawing, desperate, agonizing need to take care of their children - she had seen that look in parents' eyes during the First War as well. And it wasn't only a need to protect them physically - it was the desire to shelter them, to protect their innocence, to shield them emotionally from the horrors and cruelty of the world around them.
Yes, she could understand it. She could empathize with it. But what she couldn't abide by was using Harry as a scapegoat.
Was it true that the boy was a direct target of You-Know-Who? Yes, absolutely. Was it true that Cedric Diggory's tragic death would not have occurred if he wasn't standing beside Harry? Sadly, that was true as well. But was the child in any way responsible for what had happened? No - absolutely not.
McGonagall understood that when you experienced loss - when you felt fear, anger, and uncertainty - it was easy to blame someone. But laying the blame on a child was cowardly and wrong. If it was anyone's fault, Minerva knew the blame lay with her and the rest of the staff. None of them had discovered the monstrous plot that was playing itself out the entire year. None of them had any inkling that Alastor Moody was not who he said he was. To blame a fourteen-year-old for something that the adults should have known all along was terrible. What that poor child had been through was horrific - and the murder accusations had cut her heart to ribbons.
She was exceedingly proud of the students who had stood up for Harry, especially those who didn't know him on a personal level. Rebecca Hardman had always been known for her stubborn nature and her constant desire to stand up to injustice. It was common to see her with her hands on her hips, her chin held high as she berated someone for being unfair or cruel. In many ways, she was very much like Hermione Granger. There was no doubt in Minerva's mind that if Hermione had not been Harry's best friend and therefore not had a personal stake in the outcome, she would have been just as involved with the counterpetition.
Matthew Banner had always shown himself to be a Slytherin who went against every one of Herbert Strickle's prejudices. He was much quieter and much more subtle than his girlfriend. While Rebecca constantly spoke her opinions for all to hear, Matthew was much better at working behind the scenes. They were opposites in many ways, but they balanced each other out perfectly. It hadn't surprised Minerva that they had become a couple, and that they were instrumental in the effort to get Harry back to Hogwarts. Rebecca inspired Matthew to truly believe in a cause, and Matthew was able to restrain Rebecca from giving the game away and broadcasting the counterpetition to all and sundry. After all, it was better if it was kept quiet.
It was Strickle who had a hold over the other governors, just as Lucius Malfoy had done previously. Strickle, however, would not threaten to hurt their families if they didn't do what he wanted. Instead, it was apparent that he used fear for the students' safety against them, just as Jeffrey Bushman had gone around asking his peers how they'd feel if another student, especially their best friend or their significant other, was killed because they were standing beside Harry at a pivotal moment. It was a horrible tactic that had gotten many students to sign the original petition stating that Harry was to not be welcomed back to Hogwarts. Strickle was apparently using the same method, except that he was telling the others that with Harry in attendance, their own children were in immense danger.
And today, McGonagall knew exactly what points she could make to argue against Strickle. Her heart broke all over again when she remembered the Patronus Sirius had sent her on Saturday night, claiming that You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters were attacking Muggles in Brixton, London. Sirius didn't need to say anything for her to know how he knew - Harry had seen it. She could only imagine what he'd actually seen - every image she thought up was more horrific than the last. She knew about Harry's Occlumency training by Alastor Moody, and suspected that his progress in learning the art had been the reason he'd been able to wake up and act so quickly. Lives had been saved that night because of him - there was no doubt about that.
Since Harry's scar connection with You-Know-Who was top secret, Minerva could not use this to argue her case, although there was a huge part of her that wanted nothing more than to do so. She wanted to shout that if not for Harry's actions, so many more people would have died in gruesome, violent ways that night. If the scar link was common knowledge, she'd waste no time in making it clear.
But there was something that she could say, and it was the fact that none of the Muggles who were attacked had anything to do with Harry. Nor had the witches and wizards who had been struck down the night before term started. They had no association with Harry at all - he wasn't familiar with any of the Ministry personnel, nor with Professor Crewer, who had taught Defense Against the Dark Arts when Harry was only a baby and the majority of the wizarding world didn't know he even existed.
She'd had a terribly hard time procuring this meeting. They felt it necessary to drag their feet, especially once Minerva made it clear what she wanted to discuss. It had taken some intimidation and manipulation of her own to get Strickle to budge. She couldn't say she was very good at manipulating others, even after seeing Albus in action for so long.
Albus. Her heart still ached when she thought of him. She still hadn't heard from him at all. And honestly, it rather surprised her. It wasn't like Albus not to find some way to contact her, no matter how he was doing. How was his recovery progressing? She knew he was in the United States - but where? It was an enormous country. How could she even pretend to know where he was located? Was Healer Dixon somehow stopping him from contacting Minerva?
She still found it daunting to be the Headmistress of Hogwarts, plus the Order leader. Although, she reflected, the latter role might as well belong to Sturgis Podmore. Minerva might run the meetings, but the Order looked to Sturgis as their guide these days. The man had taken the reins without even realizing it, and Minerva didn't resent it in the slightest. In fact, she might talk to him soon about making it official. She had never seen a group of people more motivated to defeat the forces of darkness. Sturgis's steady hand during his nightly gatherings had given them all incentive to stay as positive as they possibly could.
Minerva honestly needed that wisdom and optimism now as she saw Herbert Strickle standing on the other side of the gates, the eleven other Hogwarts governors with varying expressions on their faces. She took a deep breath - patience, she told herself. She needed patience and strength to deal with this situation.
"Minerva McGonagall," Herbert Strickle said in a loud voice that never failed to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He was all smug self-importance and arrogance as he stood there - he had gotten the job as Chairman and he was flaunting it for all it was worth. Minerva couldn't say she had liked him all that much when he walked the halls as a student - she'd found him aggravating even when the rest of her day was going perfectly. Unfortunately, he had been in Gryffindor House and had displayed the negative sides of it. He'd been six years ahead of the infamous Marauders - he'd graduated from Hogwarts in 1972, while the Marauders had graduated in 1978. He had no children, but knew exactly how to tug on the heartstrings of those who did.
"Good morning, Governor Strickle," McGonagall said crisply, and she nodded at the other eleven governors as she opened the gates and allowed them entrance. "Please come to the staffroom."
"We cannot stay long," Strickle said as he quickened his stride and marched ahead of McGonagall, beckoning the others to follow. Minerva could see that several of them were reluctant to do so - they found it rude that he was walking ahead of her. She, too, found his manners very unappealing, but she let this go - she had a feeling that there would be much more important things to get upset about very soon.
But she did speak rather sharply as she addressed Strickle. "You are the one that arranged this meeting, Governor Strickle," she said, knowing her Scottish brogue was coming out stronger than normal due to her annoyance.
"Yes, but I can only give you an hour of my time," Strickle said in a supercilious, sneering tone that set Minerva's nerves on edge.
"Well," she said after telling herself she needed to stay grounded, "we will begin our meeting as soon as we arrive in the staffroom."
Since the professors were in the middle of their lessons, Minerva knew that no one would interrupt. Plus, she had consulted with the staff first thing that morning, and they had agreed to let her use the room for the meeting. Several of them had looked at her with clear empathy, knowing what she would be dealing with. Professor Dillen Philand, the young man who had taken over the Transfiguration post, bestowed her with his charming smile. Minerva had felt a mixture of fondness and exasperation when she'd overheard a conversation between Sprout and Philand about why it was that so many students, especially those of the female variety, had started having so many problems with the subject and were constantly asking for his assistance. McGonagall had felt the childish urge to snicker and roll her eyes. Merlin, how could anyone be that naive? He might be incredibly intelligent, but Philand was a bit of a ditz. It most definitely wasn't Transfiguration woes the bright-eyed, smitten teenage girls really and truly wanted to discuss with him. In the next second, however, Minerva thought that maybe Philand wasn't so gullible. If she wasn't mistaken ... had there been a slight note of humor in his voice?
As she and the governors traversed the corridors to the staffroom, Minerva thought about the two new teachers. Despite the fact that some of the student body were more interested in ... erm ... things other than Transfiguration when it came to Philand, he was an excellent teacher. He often updated her on the progress of his pupils, and he was very pleased with many of them. His bright smile, charming demeanor, and perfectly straight, white teeth - in many ways, he reminded Minerva of Gilderoy Lockhart, at least superficially. In all ways that mattered, however, he was the complete antithesis of everything Lockhart was. Unlike Lockhart, he knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't have to alter anyone's memory to make himself look better. He didn't have to make up wild lies about accomplishments that were not his. It was honestly no surprise that girls in the school took to him the way they did. Minerva could not pretend that she wouldn't have made a fool of herself in the exact same way as a schoolgirl. No one could say that Minerva McGonagall hadn't been young once.
And Fiona Giddens ... she was incredibly glad that she had made the decision to accept her into her school. She had made an indellible impression on so many of the students who had lost all their trust in the subject. She was filled with pride as she thought back over everything the American teacher was encouraging in her students, including the fact that You-Know-Who's name should not be feared. Merlin, how many times had she had that conversation with Albus? He said the name constantly with no fear in his voice, while Minerva had never been able to. But now, students walked around saying it and Minerva felt like a coward. In less than a month, Fiona Giddens had accomplished what even Albus Dumbledore hadn't been able to. After all, she'd told the students point blank that they would achieve much more in her classroom if they called him by his name. She had started rewarding House points to anyone brave enough to say it, which had been a huge motivation for the younger students especially. It was them who had begun to convince the older ones to say it, and it had become something to truly be proud of.
And the best thing of all was that she was helping the students to become more motivated and more prepared. It was common to hear students talking about the duels they had partaken in, and what they had achieved. Neville Longbottom, who Minerva admitted to herself that she had been much too hard on in the past, was flourishing under Fiona's tutelage. The woman refused to put up with any of his "I can't do it, I'm an idiot" nonsense. Fiona was proud of him, she would tell the staff, glaring fiercely when Severus snorted with derision. "It's because of people like you that he has barely any self-confidence," she snapped coldly, letting the dour Potions Master know in no uncertain terms that she would not allow him to insult Neville in front of her.
Finally, they arrived at the staffroom, and Minerva pulled her mind back to the here and now. During the journey, all the governors had been quiet, and there was no doubt in Minerva's mind that Strickle was preparing for a verbal sparring match. Minerva was determined to match him step for step.
"Now, Headmistress McGonagall," Strickle said in almost a mocking tone. Minerva had a sudden memory of his tone being exactly like that when she'd caught him out after curfew as a student and given him detention. There had always been ... something under the surface of his every word that gave the impression that he felt himself so far above her, and it had not changed as an adult. It was worse now, however, because he truly felt he had authority over her. He was the high-and-mighty Chairman of the Hogwarts Board of Governors while she was nothing more than the lowly Headmistress. In that moment, Minerva wanted nothing more than to berate him like she had once done - his superior expression made her grow irate, and it definitely took some effort for her to remain calm. "How are the students faring during these dark times?"
Minerva felt a headache coming on, and she knew the cause of it was purely psychological. She was being tested, and she could not fail. Maintaining eye contact with the arrogant man before her, she pointed at the tin of biscuits that sat in pride of place on the table. "You are welcome to some light refreshment," she stated.
She'd asked the house-elves to procure some that morning, and they had certainly delivered. Over the years, she'd discovered that the students found it easier to open up to her if she offered them biscuits when they came to her office. Albus had once teased her that the reason she started doing it was because she knew that he was always offering lemon drops every other second. Minerva honestly hadn't realized it at the time, but maybe it was subconscious. Maybe she did start doing it because she saw that it achieved results for Albus. And how many times had James Potter come to her office proclaiming that he wanted to talk, but she knew better? He was after her biscuits, not her conversation. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter. Have a biscuit. I was not born yesterday, and am perfectly aware that you are staring at my tin and not at my face." Potter had snickered at that, saying a cheeky "thank you" before diving into the tin and taking at least two of them. Minerva couldn't pretend she hadn't been thoroughly amused.
Several of the governors took her up on her offer, but Strickle did not. He simply sneered down at the tasty treats. "Do you think it proper to provide your students with snacks?" he asked in a voice dripping with condescension. "I hear that things have not changed and you still offer these to students. Should the Hogwarts staff be acting in such a manner?" He stared rather disapprovingly at the governors who were munching on them.
Minerva bristled. "I do not see how that is any of your concern, Governor Strickle," she said curtly.
Strickle kept his sneer in place, but said no more on that subject. Obviously, he wasn't willing to pursue an argument over it. After all, there were much more pressing matters to discuss.
"In answer to your first question," Minerva said briskly, "the students are coping the best they can. I am pleased to report that their physical and emotional needs are being met by the staff here."
"The loss of Mr. Diggory hit many of them hard, I'm sure," Strickle said, and Minerva knew all too well where this was leading. "It must have been very traumatic for the entire student body to see him dead on the Quidditch pitch," he said bluntly.
McGonagall couldn't help but think of that awful night again - her promising, young student sprawled on the ground, his lifeless, vacant eyes staring into the night sky, his mother collapsing beside him while his father howled like a wounded wild animal, his girlfriend trying and failing to wake him up, screaming his name as tears streaked down her face, his other friends staring at the body with varying degrees of shock and horror. She remembered how difficult it had been for her and the other staff to herd the students back into the school. She'd never forget how Roger Davies had had to literally carry Cho Chang back inside the building.
"Yes, it did," she admitted while forcibly tearing her mind away from those images. "And now that the wizarding world has acknowledged the return of the culprit responsible, it is all for the better," she said pointedly, matching Strickle's glare.
One of the other governors spoke up then - she was an older woman with graying hair and worried eyes. She had a very different air about her than Strickle, so Minerva felt much more compassionate towards her. "My granddaughter attends this school," she said quietly. "And she was very traumatized this summer. She wasn't even close with Diggory - but she spent the majority of the summer having nightmares." She stared Minerva down with eyes that were full of an infinite sadness. "She deserves better than to be put through anything like that again," she whispered.
Minerva had absolutely no doubt that every single word that the woman, Miriam Peters, said was true. She looked at her, her expression conveying sympathy. "I understand your concern, Governor Peters," she said quietly.
"Well, if you understand, Professor McGonagall, I fail to see why you would allow Mr. Potter back in these hallowed halls," Governor Strickle said, and Minerva would have scoffed at his melodrama and posturing if she wasn't in a professional setting.
Still, she felt her temper rising. "Because it was the staff's responsibility, not a fourteen-year-old boy's, to make sure that this school is safe. You are blaming the victim, Governor Strickle," she snapped. "If you attended Cornelius Fudge's trial, you are perfectly aware of what Mr. Potter went through." She looked Strickle directly in the eye. "Is this campaign against a child truly motivated by your need to protect the other children?" she asked, her voice becoming soft but containing an edgy quality that most people knew meant bad news.
"That question is preposterous," Governor Strickle fumed. "What else, pray tell, would this possibly be about?"
"I think," McGonagall said crisply, not budging an inch, "that you are threatened by his mere presence here, of the power and loyalty he wields, and it has nothing to do with the fact that ..." She squared her shoulders and thought of Fiona Giddens, of Sturgis Podmore, and, of course, of Harry Potter. "... That Voldemort has returned."
There were gasps from several of the governors, and Herbert Strickle spluttered, his face turning red. "You dare speak his name?" he asked furiously when he could speak again.
Minerva took a second to marvel at her own stupidity for two decades - she was now finally seeing things from the other end of the spectrum. "Yes, I just spoke his name," she answered, glaring Strickle down. "In the end, that's what it is. It's just a name."
Governor Peters's eyes were wide. "You ... you can't tell me that you're not afraid," she whispered. "Look, I feel sympathy for Mr. Potter. I am not heartless, ma'am." Minerva saw the sadness in the other woman's eyes and knew that, indeed, she possessed a heart that was full of fear, sadness, and uncertainty. "But I have to look after my granddaughter. The nightmares were ..." She loosed a pained breath. "She said it was Cedric's eyes that haunted her," she finished quietly. "And every night, I've thought of hers looking the same. My Janet deserves to live a long, healthy life, as does Mr. Potter. And wouldn't it also help him, if he wasn't constantly in danger? It would achieve two goals at once - keep him safe, and save the children. Please, for Janet," she entreated, staring at Minerva with pleading eyes.
Minerva felt her own heart break at the pain in Governor Peters's voice. Another burst of fury ripped through her, directed at Governor Strickle. Miriam Peters was coming from a place of love and fear, and truly bore no ill will towards Harry Potter. She could see that Governor Strickle's tactics had worked on her - he'd tugged on the woman's heartstrings, truly convincing her that there was no other way to keep Janet safe.
Miriam held Minerva's eyes for a long moment. There was no other sound in the room now - even Strickle was remaining silent. "If I were to suggest new security measures to protect Hogwarts from outside enemies, would you reconsider?" she asked quietly.
Strickle snorted - obviously, he could not maintain his silence. "As long as there's a Slytherin House, that is not possible," he said at once.
Minerva's nostrils flared, and she tried her best to keep a calm demeanor. "Exactly what are you saying?" she said lowly, already knowing the answer but wanting him to say it out loud. Perhaps then, he would hear how ridiculous he sounded.
"Do not play stupid, Professor." Strickle outright sneered at her. "I am surprised you need me to spell it out for you. I think that ..."
It was at that precise moment that the door to the staff room opened, and Minerva started in surprise. Speaking of Slytherins ...
Matthew Banner stood in the doorway, looking for all the world as though this was exactly where he wanted to be - and maybe it was. "Good morning, Professor," he said with a smile. "Good morning, Governors."
A few steps behind him was Rebecca Hardman, who was having a much more difficult time keeping emotion off her face. Though she was trying, her attempts to keep her feelings hidden did not fool Minerva in the slightest. "Good morning," she said, her voice conveying that she didn't wish the governors a good morning at all, especially Strickle, who she was staring at with a hint of hostility. "And before you reprimand us for skipping class," she continued, smiling sweetly at McGonagall, "it's break right now."
"Excuse me, but what is this?" Governor Strickle looked entirely unamused. "Is it the way of things, Headmistress McGonagall, that random students barge in on important meetings?"
"In this case," Matthew said, his voice very mild, "it is, Governor Strickle. I am Matthew Banner, and this is my girlfriend, Rebecca Hardman."
This sent Strickle spluttering again. Obviously, he recognized the names of the two people who had started the counterpetition. "What are you ... what are you doing here?" he finally barked.
Rebecca stepped forward, her hands on her hips. "To explain our case, sir," she said, her eyes hard.
Minerva had seriously thought about summoning Rebecca and Matthew to the meeting if her own efforts to convince the governors weren't successful, but in hindsight, she should have known they'd take it upon themselves to show up without prompting. She had no doubt that Matthew Banner had found out exactly when the meeting was scheduled to take place.
As if reading her mind, one of the other governors spoke up, a short man with mousy brown hair and assessing brown eyes. "How did you know about this meeting?" he asked.
"I have my sources," Matthew said mysteriously, giving nothing away. His silver and green attire showed in no uncertain terms that he was a Slytherin, and this only made Minerva prouder of him. He was perfectly willing to show House pride to those who had scorn for it.
Indeed, Governor Strickle pounced. "Slytherin," he proclaimed, every syllable of the word containing a derisive note as his eyes stared at the boy with condemnation. "It makes sense why YOU would want Potter to come back to Hogwarts."
Rage lit Rebecca's face. "What are you implying?" she spat.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Matthew's tone was matter-of-fact. "He thinks that once Potter sets foot back in here, I'll begin my dastardly, evil plots to bring him directly to ..." He swallowed. "Voldemort. The same monster who killed my aunt, uncle, and cousin. He believes me heartless enough to lick his shoes and pledge my loyalty. After all, I'm just a slimy, blood-sucking Slytherin." He delivered this in a tone that might as well be reciting the weather forecast. There was no bitterness behind it, no anger. Just the stark, naked truth.
But Rebecca was angry enough for the both of them. Her hands remained on her hips as she glared daggers at Strickle. Amazingly enough, she held her tongue, but if looks could kill ...
For the first time that Minerva had ever seen, shame colored Strickle's features, and he seemed to shrink in his chair. "Uh ... well ..." His eyes looked away from Matthew. "I'm ... er ... sorry for your loss," he muttered.
"Thank you." Still, Matthew gave nothing away. He cleared his throat and continued, "My family had no association with Harry Potter. He was not standing beside them when they were killed. Elizabeth, my cousin, was set to start Hogwarts this year, and had only heard stories of Potter. She'd never met him before, and doubtless Potter did not know of her existence until the Daily Prophet announced her murder, along with that of her parents. Potter wasn't there when they buried her in her school uniform, the first and last time she was ever able to wear it."
Minerva thought her heart might just crack at that moment. Matthew was staying strong, but he had been unable to keep the deep pain, rage, and sorrow out of his voice at that statement.
"Voldemort will kill anyone, whether Harry Potter is around or not. I'm sure he didn't know a single one of those Muggles who were killed, and I doubt any of those other Ministry personnel and their families, plus that old Defense Professor were familiar to him either. Do you honestly think, if Voldemort or his supporters can infiltrate this school, that they wouldn't just murder anyone they came upon?" Rebecca turned to McGonagall, looking at her with hard, accusatory eyes. "I cannot deny that Voldemort is after Harry. Nor can anyone," she said fiercely. "But there are many others here he'd like to get at, as well. And Harry deserves to have the same rights as us. He cannot be blamed for the actions of an evil megolomaniac. It is the job of the staff here to make sure the castle is protected properly."
There was a soft knock on the door. Minerva blanched - who else knew of this meeting? It made sense that Rebecca and Matthew did, but ...
Before anyone could say anything, the door opened to reveal a black-haired Ravenclaw girl. Her eyes had dark smudges under them, and there was no mistaking the sadness that seemed to never go away these days. She used to radiate joy and positivity, but now there was a weariness about her. Still, no one could mistake the look of determination on her face. Minerva felt her heart fill with both compassion and pride as Cho Chang lingered in the doorway.
Rebecca and Matthew didn't look at all surprised to see her. In fact, Rebecca looked at her with gratitude as she smiled. Matthew's expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to lighten at Cho's appearance.
Governor Strickle had, unfortunately, rallied since Matthew had set him straight, and he looked as though he might spontaneously combust at any moment. "And who are you?" he barked, and turned to Minerva. "I do not appreciate the way you conduct this school, Headmistress," he said, every word dripping with scorn. "Inviting all and sundry into the staff room."
"Cho Chang isn't just anyone," Rebecca said fiercely. "She has every right to be here. She, probably more than anyone, gets to have a say."
Cho turned to face the governors and the Headmistress, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "Good morning," she said softly. "I was Cedric's girlfriend."
At this, Strickle's eyes lit with triumph, as though he'd finally gotten what he'd hoped for. In the next second, his face adopted a look of sympathy which Minerva didn't buy for a second. "I am so sorry," he said quietly. "Obviously, since you were so close with the deceased and realize what happened to him, I'm sure you understand where we're coming from." His eyes turned to Rebecca and Matthew, fully expecting their bubble to burst as Cho told everyone she wanted Harry to be denied his place here.
Cho's gaze was direct as she spoke again. "I signed the counterpetition," she said, and Strickle was unable to hide his gobsmacked expression. "As a Hogwarts governor, I would have thought you read all the names."
"You ... you ... you ..." Strickle could barely get anything out, and the sight was almost laughable. "How could you? If you were Cedric's girlfriend, you ..."
Cho held Strickle's gaze unflinchingly. In a voice laced with unfiltered grief, she whispered, "I loved him. He meant everything to me. Everything."
"Then why ..." Governor Strickle was failing to understand her reasoning.
"Because," Cho said, suddenly full of defiant determination, "it's what he would have wanted."
The statement was simple, straight to the point, honest, and true. Minerva felt the pride in her heartbroken student only multiply. She'd been having a hard time this year - she'd heard from a few concerned teachers, including her Head of House, Professor Flitwick, that her grades had been dropping, although since Hermione Granger had befriended her, she had managed to pick herself up slightly. But the circles under her eyes suggested she wasn't sleeping well, or maybe she was having nightmares. Minerva could scarcely imagine it - seeing the lifeless body of the boy you loved sprawled on the Quidditch pitch.
"I did blame Harry, at first." Cho spoke quietly, honestly, not mincing words. "I resented him, hated him. I struggled with it for quite a bit of the summer. But then ... I went to Fudge's trial. Harry ... he didn't deserve any of what he was put through. And Cedric ... he tried to help him, before he was struck down." She swallowed down a sob, trying to keep it together in this setting. "That's all he ever did - try to help people. And if I'm going to honor his memory, I won't blame Harry for what happened to him - instead, I'll be the person he wanted me to be.
"Please let Harry come back to Hogwarts," she continued, looking at each of the governors in turn as her voice grew stronger. "I'm sure Headmistress McGonagall has ideas on how to strengthen the security around here. We are all scared - scared for our friends, our families, the people we love.
"And Harry is, too, but he's brave enough to endure it. And we need to all be brave, too. Brave like him, brave like ... like Cedric was, right to the end." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Voldemort ..." There were more flinches and gasps, but she ignored them - "wants Harry isolated. He wants Harry to be alone. By stopping Harry from coming to Hogwarts, you're giving him exactly what he wants. I ... I was doing that this summer, and I was wrong. We should not be doing Voldemort's work for him. It was the right thing to do to sign the counterpetition - because to do anything else would be an insult to Cedric's memory, and a way to let Voldemort know that he's already won." She stared directly at Strickle, her eyes hard. "Stop scapegoating someone who didn't do anything wrong," she ended in a whisper before finally looking away.
There were a few seconds of profound silence before McGonagall spoke. "I think, Miss Chang," she said quietly as the girl struggled to hold back tears, "that Mr. Diggory would be very proud of you."
"He would," Rebecca said at once. "I know he would."
Matthew gave Cho a small smile. "Agreed," he said simply.
It was apparent that none of the governors knew what to say after Cho's impassioned, emotional speech. Mrs. Peters wiped tears from her eyes, her heart all over her face. Minerva, feeling rather overwhelmed herself, produced a piece of parchment from her robe pocket. "I suggest you look again at all the names of the students who are in agreement with Miss Hardman, Mr. Banner, and Miss Chang," she said quietly, "since it is obvious you need to be reacquainted with all the names."
Strickle's face was the color of sour milk, but he reluctantly took the parchment and read through the names, obviously shocked by seeing so many students who were on Harry's side. His mouth gaped open for several moments, letting Minerva know that he hadn't bothered to look at the counterpetition in so much detail before. She thought rather angrily that it was doubtful that he had dismissed Jeffrey Bushman's original petition so readily at all, since he'd been so quick to agree with it.
He let out an audible gasp at the sight of one name. "Wriler, look at this," he said hoarsely, addressing one of the other governors, Thomas Wriler. He pointed to one of the names, watching for the other man's reaction.
"Oh ..." Wriler let out a soft exclamation of surprise when he saw his own daughter's name, written in a script that clearly said she hadn't hesitated with the decision in the slightest. "Mary ..." he whispered.
All the other governors stared too, their faces holding varying expressions. Governor Wriler's face switched between several different emotions, eventually settling on a mixture of love and fear as he whispered his daughter's name again. "Mary."
There was another long silence. Finally, Strickle sighed in defeat. "What security measures do you suggest we integrate?" he asked, his voice a monotone now.
For the first time all day, Minerva smiled. Her heart lightened as she saw Cho give a tremulous smile, Matthew's shoulders relax, and Rebecca give an audible sigh of relief.
Now, they were getting somewhere. ...