The Stirring

12 The Meeting

The stone wings of the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office rose in an arch above Róisín. She hesitated beneath them, cloaked in their shadow like a woman facing the gallows. Suddenly, the gargoyle hopped to the side and with a rumble of worn stone against stone the spiral staircase began moving upwards. The sióg took a deep breath and stepped onto it.

She had not wanted to come. She had considered feigning illness and going to the hospital wing, but she knew her professors would see through it. It was rumoured Snape could read minds. Róisín shivered. Then she clenched her fists. She had to do this. Seeing Anna had filled her with determination to take back control of her magic.

The door at the top was ajar. Róisín knocked lightly before pushing it open. The heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin house were standing in front of the headmaster's desk with Dumbledore seated behind it, the back of his chair so high that it was visible behind his red velvet hat.

"Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt," Róisín said.

The three professors turned to look at her framed in the doorway. Róisín, self-conscious under their gaze, brushed her fingers through the ends of her feral hair. The scene in front of her looked like an illustration from a fairy tale; Professor McGonagall's classic crooked black hat was silhouetted against the flames in the fireplace, Snape's shoulder-length greasy hair cast shadows across his angular face and the silver embroidery of the headmaster's purple robes glimmered in the moonlight from the window. It was apparent that they had been engrossed in conversation.

"Not at all, Miss Feral, come in, come in," Dumbledore exclaimed.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Róisín asked while glancing at her Transfiguration professor, unsure of whether the witch had been told that she was a sióg. McGonagall greeted her with a tight smile.

"Professor McGonagall came tonight to discuss the... difficulties you've been having recently with your course work."

An all-too-familiar heat rose in Róisín's cheeks. Yesterday, in transfiguration class, she had made only feeble attempts to accomplish the spell they were practicing, worried that her hormone-crazy magic would transfigure her partner's robes into something wholly inappropriate. Professor McGonagall must have noticed.

"We thought it imprudent to lie to such a sharp-witted woman," Snape said, "so we informed her of your... situation."

McGonagall shot her colleague a stern look, unamused by his flippancy. She turned to Róisín, a touch of warmth thawing her icy eyes,

"If you wish to talk about, well, anything that you don't feel comfortable discussing with your male professors," she inclined her head to the two men in the room, "come find me in my office."

"Ok, thank you professor," Róisín replied.

"Well, I will let you get on with it then," McGonagall said as her eyes flicked to Snape, his own diverting to avoid her gaze. Róisín saw a muscle in his jaw tense as if he were clenching his teeth, and there was a hint of colour in his normally ashen cheeks, although it could have been a reflection of the glow from the fire.

"You must be delighted that Miss Battworth has woken," Dumbledore said once McGonagall had left. He gestured to the seat in front of the desk and Róisín sat down.

"Oh yes, I'm over the moon," she replied as a rogue smile broke free at the thought, however her smile vanished when she remembered, "But em, I had an... issue, when I went to see her today."

"Oh?"

"She asked about Eóghan and I couldn't reply because of the tongue-tying curse."

"So it served its purpose," Snape commented dryly.