So, finished a whopping great big research paper on how to improve the experience of D/deaf children using mental health services. I've almost finished writing all of the Prisoner of Azkaban chapters. And, I've just finished The Testament written by Margaret Atwood (I highly recommend it - if dystopian/speculative literature is something you enjoy). So, all in all, it's been quite a productive week.

If anybody has any book suggestions by the way then please let me know :) I am open to any genre except perhaps supernatural/horror books. Also thanks so much for the lovely reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter too :)

25th July 1993

Minerva walked briskly through the village and towards the Three Broomsticks. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and she could feel her skin grow hot as she moved swiftly across the cobblestone. The good weather and pleasant atmosphere in the village did nothing to reflect her mood, however.

The fact that she was running later was making her feel tense; she had been due to meet her brother twenty minutes ago. Then, coupled events taking place in the castle and better yet, the Wizarding community, meant that she was also experiencing an added sense of agitation

Finally approaching the small, busy pub, Minerva quickly pushed open the door and scanned the room. She needn't have bothered, however, as her brother had managed to spot her first.

"Minerva!" he called, waving at her from his position at the bar.

Minerva waved back and made her way through the crowd.

"I never thought I would be the one to comment on punctuality when meeting my sister," he joked when she finally reached him. They embraced and then Malcolm pulled out a chair for her. Yet, it was only when she was sitting down that he finally noticed her grim expression and his smiled faltered. "Has something happened?" he asked, looking at her worriedly. "Are you ill?"

"Goodness, no," Minerva said quickly. "I am quite well, Malcolm," she added, though a frown was creasing her brow. "Have you not seen the paper?"

"No," he said slowly, "I left before it arrived... Why? What did it say?"

A dark look came over Minerva's features and she took out a copy of the Daily Prophet from her inside cloak pocket. "It arrived just before I left to come here," she explained, unfolding the paper. "It's—well see or yourself."

She placed the newspaper on the countertop for Malcolm to see. His reaction was immediate. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he looked at the page.

"Merlin's beard," he breathed. "How did this happen?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Minerva replied, scanning the paper for the hundredth time. She felt herself grow slightly nauseous again at the sight of Sirius Black's face looking back at her. "It happened three days ago—"

"Three days ago!" repeated Malcolm, looking up. "Why wasn't this reported until now?"

"Why would it have been reported immediately?" Minerva replied.

"National security risk," Malcolm said. "He's a murderer."

"I know, I know that," Minerva agreed, holding up her hand and closing her eyes briefly. "But this is the first time anyone has managed to leave Azkaban alive, Malcolm."

"And Fudge thought Black would be found before the incident ever needed to be reported," he finished, understanding now what she meant.

Minerva nodded. "Frankly, it's a disgrace that he managed to keep it out of the Prophet for three days," she said. "One day this man is going to lead us all to our graves because he cares too much about his public image."

Malcolm nodded and scanned the newspaper one more time before folding it again. "You were talking to Dumbledore then before you came?" he asked.

"Yes," she sighed. "To discuss the new security measures we will need at the school this year. Apparently, the Minister already has some ideas of what this new security could be."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows but Minerva shook her head.

"Albus is speaking to the Minister this very minute," she said. "Though Fudge did not seem quite so keen to proceed with the discussion. Presumable because whatever these new measures are, he is concerned they will not gain Albus' full approval."

Malcolm shrugged. "He can be intimidating sometimes, Dumbledore."

"Hm."

"So do you think it will be trolls or something?" he asked.

Minerva pulled a face. "Perhaps," she said, "But I rather think it might be something a little more controversial, shall we say."

Minerva straightened in her chair and began to tap the countertop with her fingers.

Noticing her discomfort Malcolm changed tack. "Should we move on?"

"Please," Minerva said, relieved.

He smiled understandingly and turned towards the bar to speak to Rosmerta who had just appeared. "One butterbeer and—What would you like, Minerva?" he said, turning.

"Gillywater, please."

"—and one gillywater," added Malcolm. "Thank you."

Rosmerta nodded and bustled away to prepare the drinks.

"Tell me how you have all been?" Minerva said, once Malcolm had turned again. "How is retirement treating you?"

"Very well," he replied. "You should try it."

Minerva rolled her eyes and Malcolm smiled.

"Helen likes me being at home," he said. "It's been very peaceful just the two of us. Every now and then the grandkids come round for a few nights. Chloe and Robert visit every other week, Malcolm sometimes too, and Min of course."

"And Isobel?"

"Yes, every few weekends. But she stays in London mostly." He nodded at Minerva. "Reminds me of someone I know. Didn't we use to have to beg you to come to Caithness? We should have called Isobel after you."

"Don't be cheeky," Minerva told him. "At least she is enjoying herself."

"Yes," he agreed, smiling slightly. "That's true. But what about you? What have you been up to with no misbehaving students to tell off."

"There is a little more to teaching than that, Malcolm."

Malcolm shrugged. "That's the part I would find the most enjoyable," he said, with a smile. "Perhaps it's a good thing I didn't choose the teacher route."

"Yes, thankfully the next few generations of witches and wizards have been saved from your thirst to punish students," Minerva teased.

"Well, I heard you're doing a pretty good job without me."

Minerva shook her head exasperatedly, but she smiled nevertheless. "I'm strict but not unfair, Malcolm."

He smiled. "So, the school?" he prompted.

"Well, the school has been quiet, I'll grant you," she said. "But that does not mean it has not been any less busy. Professor Lupin arrived last week, so we have had to get him settled in. Then I have had to send letters off to the new first years," she added, waving her hand, "And now this Sirius Black problem."

Malcolm nodded just as Rosmerta came to set down the drinks.

"Can I get you both anything else? We have new specials if you want to stay for lunch?"

Malcolm looked at Minerva who gave a small shrug. He nodded and turned back to Rosmerta. "Sure, why not?"

Rosmerta smiled. "I'll fetch you both the menu."

A few hours later and Minerva was walking back up the steps to the castle. She had barely reached the Transfiguration corridor when she noticed Filius knocking on her office door.

"Can I help you Filius?"

He turned abruptly, his hand on his chest. "Oh, Minerva!"

"You needed me?" she prompted, frowning slightly.

"Have you heard about the new protective measures the minister wants in place?

"I can't say that I have," she replied, cautiously. "But it appears nothing good."

"They want to bring dementors," Filius continued in a scandalised tone. "To the school."

Minerva's reaction was immediate. "You cannot be serious."

"I wish I wasn't. I saw the Minister leave and the Headmaster told me what had transpired."

"Albus won't allow it," Minerva said firmly. "The students-"

"I know," Filius said, clearly just as displeased as she was. "But they are worried about Sirius Black coming here."

They shared a look.

"Has Albus agreed?" Minerva asked, clearing her throat.

"I-I'm not sure," Filius said. "He seemed quite torn when I saw him."

Minerva nodded; she could understand why this may be the case. Albus was probably struggling between Harry's safety and his utter dislike of dementors. A dislike most, if not everyone, shared.

"I can speak to him," Minerva said.

Filius almost sighed with relief, however, instead, he nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

Minerva nodded. "Was there anything else?"

"Actually yes," Filius said. "Miss Catherine Miller," he said, looking down at a list in his hands and pointing out the name of the prospective student with his finger. "I spoke to her family this morning about Hogwarts but..."

"There were problems," Minerva finished with a sigh.

Filius nodded apologetically. "They are not convinced about sending their daughter away 'for no good reason'."

"I see," Minerva said. "And you mentioned what would happen if she is not taught properly?"

"I did. They were quite adamant they had found an appropriate secondary school for her," he said. "They did not want to hear anything about their daughter's magic."

Minerva sighed again. It had not happened in a while, however, every now and again there would be a family who would not hear of sending their child to Hogwarts. There were alternatives for children born into magical families, such as homeschooling. However, this was not possible with children from non-magical backgrounds. And although it would not be hard for a witch or wizard to confund these parents and change their minds, it would be a gross abuse of magic. Minerva was not partial to this tactic and so far in her career, she had learnt that these situations could always be managed with some honest, though sometimes lengthy, discussions.

"Very well," she said finally. "I will visit them tomorrow morning and try to smooth things over. Miss Miller, was it?"

Filius nodded.

"Yes, Catherine Miller is the daughter. Susan and Alex are the parents."

Minerva took the paper Filius was handing her, with notes on the family and their conversation that morning. She scanned the paper briefly noticing that, based on what had been said, the conversation the next day was going to be a hard one.

"Right, I will see to this," she said finally, shaking the paper. "Thank you for informing me, Filius."

"Not at all."