7 October 1997

A Black Cat Flu epidemic had struck Hogwarts not even midway through the first term. None of the professors, not even the portraits, could recall a time that such an illness had spread so quickly throughout the school.

Though many had succumbed to the illness and been bedbound for days, Poppy included, this was somewhat a relief to the inhabitants of the castle. Particularly, when Amycus, Alecto and even Severus, had been struck down with the same sickness too. To get some sort of reprieve from the suspicious looks, snap retorts and harsh punishments helped them breathe a little easier throughout the day.

Come Sunday however, Minerva was not feeling as grateful. Instead of getting the milder form of the flu, she had fortunately been blessed with the rarest this Saturday evening. So rather than being on the mend like the rest of the staff, Minerva was tucked up in bed at nine o'clock on a Sunday evening feeling grumpy, frustrated and rather worse for wear. The only aspect of all of this that made her feel better, however, was the news that Amycus, Alecto and Severus had also caught the same irksome strain.

Minerva only hoped that she would feel able enough to return to the classroom the following morning. As it was, it was looking less and less likely by the minute.

Rubbing her tingling eyes and then pressing her hand against her too warm forehead, Minerva tried to drift back off to sleep. The fact that she felt seasick even with her eyes closed, as well as warm and cold at once, did nothing to ease her attempts to sleep. She turned and tried to think of nothing—a piece of advice Pomona had offered Minerva, that Minerva had deemed quite useless at the time. Fortunately, Pomona's words were more helpful.

Minerva did not know how long she had been asleep, but when she woke it was still dark outside and faint rapid knocks sounded against her door. The banging grew louder and Minerva hurried as fast as she was able, to the door. The room was spinning as she moved and she wished, not for the first time, that her vertigo would subside.

"Minerva," Grace Matthews blurted out as soon as Minerva swung the door open. "You have to come—oh... you have it too. When did you get it?"

"What are you doing out of your dormitory after curfew?" Minerva asked tiredly, without answering Grace's question. These days she felt that it was the only question she asked her students—so often was it that they disrespected castle rules.

"I—something's happened and everybody else is ill. I thought you weren't so I came to you," Grace said. "Also, you're his head of house."

Minerva frowned slightly and used the doorway to support her weight. "Whom are you referring to, Grace Matthews? What has happened?"

"Bertie Lawson. He received a letter this evening and completely panicked. Something to do with his mother. Neville Longbottom and Ernie Macmillan told me to fetch you."

Minerva did not ask how Grace knew about Bertie's letter coming this evening since both students were in different Houses. She did not ask either why Neville Longbottom was in the picture either, given how late it was now and how Longbottom, Macmillan, Lawson and Grace were all meant to be in bed in their respective dormitories.

Instead, she stepped out of her chambers. "Where is Mr Lawson?"

"I expect he's in the Gryffindor Common room, now," Grace said.

Minerva narrowed her eyes slightly.

"We were in the library before," Grace added hastily. She blushed a crimson red and averted her gaze from Minerva's. "I promise. I can take you to Bertie."

"I shall see to Mr Lawson only once you are back in your dormitory, Grace Matthews. We will pass it on the way to the Gryffindor Tower," Minerva replied tartly. "And do keep your distance," she added, taking a step away from her goddaughter. "I would not want to pass you the flu too."

Grace nodded and they walked in silence towards the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Common Rooms. It was mostly for Minerva's benefit. She felt tired and weary and still very dizzy. Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other was concentration enough. That and thinking too about what was in Bertie Lawson's letter that could have made him so anxious.

Finally, they reached the Ravenclaw Common Room.

"It is late, Miss Matthews," spoke the golden eagle. "It is not wise to traverse the castle after dark."

Grace looked down at her feet and nodded. "Sorry."

"It is not I who you should be apologising to," the eagle said. It straightened its feathered head. "We make you weak at the worst of all times. We keep you safe, We keep you fine. We make your hands sweat, and your heart grow cold. We visit the weak, but seldom the bold. What am I?"

Minerva cleared her throat when Grace shot her a puzzled glance. "Our fears," she replied quietly.

The door swung open and Grace entered. She turned and appeared to hesitate between saying something and not.

"I do not bite, Grace," Minerva said tiredly. "I cannot help if you do not share what is troubling you."

"I—nothing is troubling me," Grace said. She bit her bottom lip gently and Minerva knew at once that the girl was lying. "Goodnight, Minerva."

Minerva suppressed a sigh. "Goodnight. Sleep well," she said. "And mind you stay in your dormitory after nine or—"

"I'll end up like Seamus Finnigan," Grace said, and her lips formed an uncharacteristic straight and unyielding line. She crossed her arms against her chest. "I can't believe they punished him so."

Much as Minerva shared Grace's sentiments of disgust and anger that a student had been hexed in class as a form of punishment for what Alecto had termed 'insolence', Minerva was not surprised that it had happened.

Alecto and Amycus looked mutinously at Hogwarts staff and students on the best of days. Up until a week ago, when Finnigan had been punished, Minerva had been certain that the Carrow siblings' mood had changed dramatically for the worst. They were temperamental, angry and getting too much enjoyment from the power—Minerva knew it would only be a matter of time before they lost control. And lost control they did. Minerva could not put into words the fear she had felt when she had found Seamus Finnigan with a black eye and several bruises to his ribs.

"I know," she said eventually. "Goodnight, Grace."

"Night, Minerva. I hope you feel better soon," Grace said. She bit her lip. "Look after Bertie, please."

"I will do my best, Grace."

The door closed and Minerva sighed. The golden knocker stretched out its wings.

"The flu got to you too?"

Minerva nodded minutely, not much in the mood for a conversation with the Ravenclaw eagle door-knocker. "Are all your Ravenclaws inside?"

"I believe they are now."

Minerva pursed her lips and straightened. "Do not let them leave before breakfast tomorrow, please."

"As you wish, Professor McGonagall," the eagle replied, and Minerva left the hallways swiftly. One task done, the next she hoped to complete soon.