Wisdom and Victory {Fred Weasley}

Chapter 22

We're at THAT point in fifth year :)

My dearest Vicky,

Having received your long and detailed owl of the match, alongside my brother's of all the goals he saved, and Lee's of all the goals Angelina scored, I can only see it fitting to congratulate you.

Really, though, well done. I'm glad I wasn't on the pitch, or anywhere near your bad side for that matter. I'm guessing this will reach you by Monday or Tuesday next week (Hello Dolores), in which case you've probably got your Arithmancy exam next, or Defence Against the Dark Arts.

If that's the case, you really ought to stop worrying, and yes, you should get another cup of tea. You're one of the smartest, most hardworking people I know, and I've met your mum. So take a deep breath, you'll do great.

Maybe see you at the next Hogsmeade weekend, wink-wink. Love you,

Fred

Victoria grinned at Fred's letter, wishing he could be there too to hold her hand under the table while she poured over her Defence Against the Dark Arts notes. She was the most nervous for this exam, mainly because she had no idea what she was facing, in true Defence fashion. She could do her patronus, that would get her extra points, but the theory paper...she dreaded to think.

She quickly stuffed her letter into the cover of her library book, shaking off any thoughts of sentimentality and reading the paragraph on werewolves once again.

*****

It turned out that Defence Against the Dark Arts went somewhat smoothly, although she missed one or two questions off the back, to her great disappointment. Arithmancy the day before had given her the confidence boost she'd needed to get through it.

Thursday had brought Charms, and she didn't recall a slip-up, but naturally she'd have made some mistakes in her written paper. The following Monday, Victoria felt the pressure a little in Transfiguration, and that dinner time was spent in her mother's office carefully breaking down the exam for her.

Herbology on Wednesday was a disaster in Victoria's eyes. She shrivelled up one of the venomous tentacula vines with a blast of fire when it made its way over to her. While one of the examiners looked impressed, the other tutted angrily, saying something about 'irreparable damage'. Angelina had told her it was fine, she was using initiative, but it didn't stop the sleepless night that followed.

Now, on Wednesday night, Victoria was patrolling the corridors with her mother, a stack of notes clutched in front of her while she was quizzed on her sixth year Potions knowledge, ready for the exams the following day.

"The use of flobberworm mucus in a calming draught?" asked her mother as they stepped down the grand staircase together. "Disgusting."

Victoria bit her cheek in thought. "To...thicken the potion?" she began, receiving an encouraging nod. "Oh, for prolonged release! I should know that, it's healing potions, isn't it?"

"That was my next question," said her mother with a smile. "Alright then, how long should you leave the elixir of-" She was interrupted by a shout from outside. It was only now that the two McGonagalls noticed that the doors to the Entrance Hall had been left wide open.

They hurried over, peering out into the night where they could see flashes of light down by the edge of the forest. "Stay here," said her mother, handing her her textbook. Victoria, knowing better than to argue, stayed put, drawing her wand just in case.

"How dare you!" thundered the voice of her mother as she made her own way down. Four beams of red shot from the darkness, hitting her mother in the chest. She rose into the air, glowing slightly, before collapsing to the ground.

Victoria did not remember dropping her things, but she must have, because the next moment they were scattered across the stone steps as she sprinted towards her mother's unmoving mass of robes. "NO!" she cried, firing helplessly into the distance and she ran down the lawn.

Victoria leaped in front of her mother's body, defending it with all her might as spells flew her way from the darkness. "STOP IT, PLEASE!" she cried, blocking and firing and blocking and firing, her heart pounding and tears threatening to stream.

"HELP!" she bellowed into the darkness that enveloped her. She did not know who it was attacking her, be it Death Eaters or somebody else. "HELP, PLEASE!"

"That's a student!" shouted the voice of Hagrid, the gamekeeper. The spells stopped.

"McGonagall?" asked the disgustingly sweet voice of Umbitch. "What are you doing out so late?"

"My mother!" she cried, turning on the pink-wearing bitch. "You attacked my mother!"

"Your mother," said Umbridge stiffly, "Should not have interfered with Ministry business."

Victoria only felt fury rush to her head. She launched herself towards the woman, wand forgotten in hand, and slapped her, hard, across her flabby cheek.

Victoria had never hit anyone before. Dread and regret filled her as soon as she'd done it, despite the awful woman in front of her. She breathed heavily as the ugly splotch began to cover Umbitch's face, who stared up at her, somehow maintaining a calm composure.

"You are expelled, Miss McGonagall," she spat, but Victoria found herself uncaring. "You will leave immediately after your potions examination tomorrow."

Victoria threw one last scathing glare her way, before swooping down to her mother's side, trying desperately to wake her. "No," she whispered when her mother didn't so much as twitch. "HELP!" she cried once more into the night.

And this time, help did come, in the form of Professors Flitwick and Sprout. The former levitated her mother onto a stretcher, while the latter picked Victoria up from where she sat in the grass, placing an arm around her shoulders and hurrying back towards the castle.