A Cat's Tail: Minerva McGonagall Fan Fiction

Chapter 43

Minerva yawned, tugging her hair back into a sharp bun. She glanced at the clock. 5:03 AM. She'd be late if she didn't hurry up. She bent over and kissed Robbie on the cheek.

"Remember to do the newspaper rounds," She whispered, and he stirred, groaning. Minerva quietly crept out of the house, not wanting to wake anyone. She drank in the silence, only punctured by the clatters of the market trader setting up. She rapped lightly on Dr McConnell's navy blue door.

"Ah, Miss McGonagall, on time as always," The Doctor's eyes crinkled into a warm smile, and Minerva smiled stiffly back. "Could you start by cleaning up my bag? A medicine bottle leaked yesterday,"

"Of course sir," It was halfway through the summer holidays, and both her and Malcolm had got jobs to support themselves. Robert was too out of it to work. He mostly slept and drank down at the pub. Minerva had lied about her age, saying she was 16, which she easily passed for with her height and gangly stature, not to mention the newly formed bags under her eyes, carrying the weight of the world. She worked as Dr McConnell's assistant, following him to assessments, cleaning is equipment and making him cup after cup of tea. Malcolm did odd jobs around the village, like the newspaper rounds, mowing lawns and washing cars. It was gruelling, but they both knew they had to survive.

"Chop chop, Miss McGonagall, Mrs Brown's baby won't wait,"

"Yes, sir," 

Malcolm pedalled frantically, trying to keep himself awake. He chucked the newspapers roughly, and they bounced off the doors. People were starting to stir since the sun was just peeking above the horizon. His stomach rumbled. They'd spent their joint salary on running water and electricity, and there wasn't any left for food. 

"Witch boy! Witch boy!" Malcolm deflected the pebbles that the village boys were chucking at him, though one hit him square on the cheek. He rubbed it, wincing. 

"Dinner, Malcolm," Minerva placed a bowl of thin soup in front of Malcolm. 

"Thanks," He mumbled wearily. They ate in silence, tired out from there early starts and late finishes. Minerva gently stroked his smarting cheek.

"Did those boys throw stones at you again?" Malcolm nodded. "I'll get you a plaster," Minerva rummaged in the draws, squinting in the half-light. She gently wiped Malcolm's wound and smoothed the plaster over his cheek."Mal, can you hear that?" They both stared at the door. "Robbie? Is that you?" A quiet scratching and muffled wails were coming from the other side of the door. 

"Minnie! Malcolm!" The moment Minerva opened the door, he leapt into her outstretched arms. "Mummy doesn't want me anymore," He mumbled into Minerva's shoulder. 

"Robbie, come in, have some soup," Minerva gave Robbie her bowl, which he devoured rapidly.

"More?" He asked expectantly. Minerva shook her head sadly.

...

Hagrid heaved the axe above his head and brought it down heavily on the log beneath him.

"Good work sonny," Ogg said, sitting on a fold-out chair, feet up on a table, sipping a beer. "Keep going," Hagrid sighed. He'd been at this for hours, whilst Ogg, the main groundskeeper, relaxed. 

Hagrid wiped the sweat from his brown and lifted the rusty axe above his head again. As he brought it down with a THUD, his thoughts turned to Minerva. She was probably having an amazing summer, friends, parties, family. Not thinking of him at all, not aching to change the past...

...

"Dad! Dad! It's me! It's Minerva! Dad-" Robert held the glass bottle high above his head. "DAD!" Minerva screamed, her Dad's brown eyes glazed over, not recognising her. Minerva ducked and braced herself as Robert yelled:

"IMPOSTER IN MY HOUSE," Minerva tensed, waiting for the impact. 

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" Malcolm's voice echoed through the dark room. Minerva slowly lifted her head up, still hunched over. The bottle was floating above Robert's head, the broken fragments orbiting it. Minerva breathed out a ragged breath. Robert stared at the bottle for a moment, then collapsed. Minerva stared at Malcolm.

"Malcolm Finlay McGonagall what did you do that for?" Minerva yelled, pulling her brother into a tight hug. Sure enough, a hoot came from the window, a ministry owl, tawny with caramel splashes. In its curved beak was a formal envelope of creamy parchment, sealed by a deep blue wax M, undoubtedly reminding Malcolm that he couldn't use magic."Thank you," 

They both looked sadly at their Dad's slumped form, and Minerva gently laid him down on the sofa. Her heart was thrashing wildly, her brain still in overdrive, but she kept her expression even. Much better her than one of her brothers.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I'm sorry to say that I don't think I can return to Hogwarts. My mum left, and my dad isn't coping too well. It wouldn't be in Robert's (my youngest brother) best interests, nor my dad's, for him to stay here alone. Malcolm can still go, but I don't think I can follow suit.

My deepest regrets,

Minerva McGonagall

Dumbledore stared at the curly handwriting, his hand shaking. He had to do something...he couldn't just sit around and let her leave. That girl was 14 going on 40, such a wise head on those shoulders. She'd even attached an interesting article on animagi she thought he should read.  He picked up his quill and rapidly began to write.

...

"Minerva? Minerva?" Minerva walked up the path towards the crumbling house. Two familiar heads, one with long long silver hair, and the other with cropped short silver hair. 

"Affie? Amelie?" Minerva asked, the gravel crunching beneath her feet. Affrodille span round and hugged Minerva tightly. Her clothes were tattered and torn, and her face was smudged with what looked like soot.

"Something terrible's happened!"

Minerva stirred the mug of tea, and gently rested it on the table in front of Affrodille. She gently patted her on the shoulder, very aware that she couldn't be late back to Dr McConnell's. He'd fire her in an instant. Malcolm and Robbie had odd jobs for the afternoon, too, and their dad would be at the pub for hours yet. All throughout her shift, checking Mr Smith's heartbeat and rearranging the Doctor's car, she was anxious, itching to get home. 

Finally, the day ended, and she pelted up the hill, only stopping to grab a loaf of bread and some jam, the remaining pennies of her salary clinking in her pockets. Once she got home, she set a thin slice of bread and jam in front of her brothers and Amelie and Affrodille.

"Why are you not 'aving one?" Affrodille asked gently. Minerva smiled slightly.

"This has to last all week. I can eat tomorrow," Affrodille stared at her.

"Why-"

"This isn't about me, Affie, this is about why you and Amy randomly turned up to my house despite being in supposedly being in France," Affie gulped, and glanced at Amelie.

"There was an attack...Grindelwald's followers. They...they..." Tears were rolling down Affrodille's cheeks, and Minerva pulled her into a tight hug, gently rubbing her back. "They set fire to my family home. I think...I think me and Amelie...we might be the only ones who survived," Minerva rocked her gently.

"How did you get here?" Minerva asked, leading Affie to a chair.

"We 'ijacked a portkey...the owner of it chased us for a mile or two...I recognised the town name on a sign...managed to sneak onto a muggle train, and asked for directions to get 'ere," Affrodille was shaking violently, her teeth chattering violently. 

"Malcolm, take Amelie up to our room and put some blankets on the floor. Robbie, brush your teeth. Affrodille, come with me,"