She is immortal, born in the highlands of Scotland over three hundred years ago. She is not alone. There are others like her – some good, some evil. For centuries she has battled the forces of darkness, with holy ground and Hogwarts Castle her only refuges. She cannot die, unless you take her head, and with it her power, for in the end, there can be only one. Among the wizarding world, she is Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts. But in the Game of the Immortals, she is Fiona MacLeod – the Highlander.
*Highlander: The Series version of Princes Of The Universe plays*
Chapter 4
Harry's last exam was History of Magic, but he found it difficult to concentrate on answering the questions, partly because he was thinking about flying on his Firebolt again (with Umbridge's death and Professor Dumbledore's return, Professor McGonagall had returned it to him the following morning, but he hadn't had the chance to use it yet), and partly because he couldn't shake a feeling of unease. It wasn't anything to do with the exam, but Harry felt like Grawp had somehow managed to sneak up on him, and was waiting to drop something heavy on him. It was giving him a little bit of a headache, Harry powered through, and carried on writing down why the wizarding community of Lichtenstein had initially refused to join the International Confederation of Wizards.
When Professor Tofty finally called "Time's up! Quills down, please!", Harry was able to leave the Great Hall confident that he had at least passed. He made a beeline for the Grand Staircase, but he had just reached the base of the stairs when Professor McGonagall's voice came from behind him. "Potter, a moment." Harry wordlessly yelled with frustration inside his head, and turned round. But Professor McGonagall was smiling. "What I have to say will only improve your mood, Potter, so you can spare a minute. Your broom will still be in your dormitory."
Harry followed Professor McGonagall to a corner of the Entrance Hall, so they weren't blocking the Staircase. "It concerns your living arrangements for the summer, Potter – and the future. You no longer need to return to your Muggle relations." Harry's jaw dropped in amazement. "Professor Dumbledore said I had to go back for at least half of each summer, though, Professor." "And you have had to do so, but no longer. Professor Dumbledore informs me that the protection you had from living there has ceased. There are only three scenarios under which that could happen – You reach the age of seventeen, your aunt throws you out, or -and it took considerable persuasion to get him to reveal this – you died. Given what happened the other night, as regards your new – condition, shall we say – you did, for a moment, die." Harry felt like he could have jumped as high as the Astronomy Tower for joy, as Professor McGonagall smiled again. "I am sure you can guess where you will be living from now on. Now, be off with you. Go and fly, before you burst something."
Harry hurried up to Gryffindor Tower as fast as he could, already feeling like he was flying. He had his Firebolt back, exams were over, no more Dursleys, and he would be living with Sirius. He couldn't think of anything that would make this day better.
