A Cat's Tail: Minerva McGonagall Fan Fiction

Chapter 36

"What happened to yer head?" Hagrid stroked her forehead but Minerva flinched away. 

"Ignore me for three weeks and suddenly want to talk to me?" She said coldly, and Hagrid looked at his feet.

"I'm sorry I-"

"It's none of your business," She turned on her heel and strode off. 

The general story was that she'd been reaching for a book and it had fallen off the shelf, whacking her in the head. Her friends didn't really believe her, but didn't question it. Professor Dumbledore, on the other hand, called her to his office immediately.

"Right, tell me what happened," Not a statement, a question. His usually twinkling eyes were devoid of their mischief, and Minerva realised that she would have to tell him the truth.

"My parents were arguing..." She paused, working out how to phrase it best, without throwing her parents under the bus. "My mother...well...um...accidentally...threw a glass paperweight at my head," she finally blurted it out, after much procrastination. Dumbledore nodded slightly.

"I'm sure the nurse will be able to attend to it. My understanding is that muggle stitches are somewhat less effective," He paused, and as he looked into Minerva's eyes, it felt as though he was looking into her soul, comprehending every thought. "The events that may unfold...they are not your fault. I emphasise that, as you must leave adults to make their own mistakes," Dumbledore slid a silvery potion across the table. "This helps with the dreams,"

It was not until Minerva was in the corridor that she realised two things. Firstly, she had not told Dumbledore about anything dream or Tom related. He'd given her occulamency lessons and that potion despite this. Second "the events" he was referring to was the breakdown and eventual collapse of her parent's marriage. She felt a little pang at this, but could not help wondering if it would be the safest course of action. As she shelved these revelations away in some corner of her mind to be pondered upon, she felt a cold, spindly hand grab her wrist.

"Little Miss Gryffindor! Long time no see. How's that little boyfriend of yours?" Minerva shivered, and though she writhed to be free of Tom's grip, she was trapped. "Silent treatment, hey?"

"Let. Go," She hissed, teeth clenched, hands balled into fists. 

"Aw! Angry are we? I'm sure you have heard of a certain Gellert Grindelwald, have you not?" She shivered again, not only at Tom's contact but at the mention of his name. He had been plaguing newspapers with murderous headlines and was cracking the benign divide between Muggles and Wizards. She shivered because she knew Tom associated with his associates, and she shivered because she knew that her father had threatened to pull her out of Hogwarts due to him. 

"I said let go," Her voice was cold and even. Tom's handsome features twisted into a devilish grin.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me!" His smirk faded. "Grindelwald is quite the...inspiration. He has the right determination to bring about the right views. Not afraid of a little...collateral damage...muggles and mudbloods...like your father, maybe," Minerva's breath caught in her throat and all she could hear was the wild beating of her heart. "In this battle, the battle for the greater good, there is a right side and a wrong side. Which side are you on?" Minerva slowly lifted her eyes to meet his, holding back every morsel of fear and replacing it with every atom of courage in her body.

"I don't pick sides. But whichever side you're on is the wrong one," She twisted and contorted to try and free herself of her shackles but no relief came. Tom's face was millimetres away from her own, their noses touching, his cold breath on her face.

"You've made a big mistake. When I rule the world, you will feel your punishment," As Tom leaned in to kiss her, a sudden, burning force erupted inside of her, exploding from her hands, causing Tom to careen backwards and lurch across the room. She stared at Tom, at her hands, Tom again, then ran. 

As the grey corridors blurred past her, fragments of memory ebbed at the corners of her mind. Big red eyes...fangs...brown eyes...Tom's eyes...green scales. Her feet had carried her to the hospital wing, and as the nurse fixed her stitches she tried to piece together the dream. It must have been a dream, when she was unconscious, maybe. She poured over books in the library for hours, from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to Grotesquely Murderous Monsters. She even managed to get into the restricted section, being on good terms with the (slightly blind) librarian. 

When she'd finally been kicked out, she staggered back to the common room, hidden under a pile of books. All of a sudden, she heard a hiss, a piercing scream and a crash. Not any, scream, a familiar scream. She dropped her books and ran.

"Malcolm!" She yelled, frantically. As she skidded around the corner, she saw her brother, static, lifeless, like a statue, a glinting silver bracelet clenched in his hand. "Malcolm!" She screamed, a horrific, animalistic wail escaping from her chest. Minerva shook him and shook him, yet he didn't respond. She was so fixated on Malcolm she didn't register the sudden influx of students, the teachers, pushing to the front, and the tears streaming down her face. "Malcolm," She whispered, her voice hoarse and scratchy.

Minerva felt a warm, comforting arm around her shoulder, and, forgetting all animosity towards him, turned into Hagrid's chest, bawling her eyes out, as Malcolm was carried away to the hospital wing.

"Minerva, its gonna be ok," He said softly, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. 

"I have to go see Malcolm," She murmured, pulling away from the embrace, and half-walked, half-sprinted off. Hagrid gazed after her, sadly, and slowly picked up the books that were strewn. As he gazed at the titles, his heart jolted. She was on to him. 

Tom Riddle peered out the door, checking that no one was watching, and slipped out of the toilet. He straightened his tie, smoothed his hair, and painted a concerned expression on his face. However, to his surprise, the boy was not dead, only petrified, and as he was carried past, Tom glared at the jewellery in his hand. 

Minerva stroked her brother's frozen hand. 

"Can he hear me?" Minerva asked Dumbledore, who was standing at the end of the hospital bed. 

"I don't think so," Minerva kissed Malcolm's hand.

"I'm sorry Malcolm," There was silence.

"Malcolm! I'm so sorry!" A voice screamed, suddenly flinging aside the curtain. Tears were running down Amelie's drained face. Dumbledore put a warning finger on his lips. "It was my bracelet! My bracelet zat I forgot! If I 'adn't left it in ze 'all 'e would not 'ave been zere!" She burst into another flood of tears. Minerva turned away from the hysterical first year and back to her brother. 

"I'll always protect you," She whispered, tears running down her own cheeks.