A Cat's Tail: Minerva McGonagall Fan Fiction

Chapter 45

"I would like to announce that for all students staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays, there will be a Winter Ball," The Great Hall erupted into chaos. "I would also like to wish good luck to all those participating in this evenings Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match," 

Minerva looked up from the plate of food she'd been staring at, wallowing in nerves. Normally she wouldn't be nervous before a Quidditch match, but who other than Tom Riddle had joined the Slytherin Quidditch team. She was stressed, she hadn't even noticed that Affrodille was having a mini meltdown about the newly announced ball. 

"-and what will I where? My lovely pink dress is still in France and I look 'horrible in green! And who will I ask? No doubt Amelie will ask Malcolm-" Minerva spat out her drink.

"What?!" She exclaimed, earning herself a few glares from the Gryffindor table. Affrodille looked at Minerva sceptically.

"Are you telling me that you 'adn't noticed that your little brother is absolutely smitten with my Amelie!" Affie raised an eyebrow at Minerva's shocked face. "Just like you and-" She stopped short when she realised what she was saying, and Minerva looked away, trying to hide the blush that was spreading across her face. "Are you telling me that you still like 'im?" Minerva glared at Affie.

"Ssh! I don't need the whole world to hear!" Affrodille groaned.

"Get over 'im! 'E's gone now. Anyway, you've got Tom Riddle chasing after you!" Minerva whacked her on the arm. "What? It's true, no?" Affrodille winked as Tom looked in their direction.

...

Minerva smoothed the handle of her broom, feeling the scratches and dents beneath her fingers. Her fingers were shaking slightly, but she knew that once she was in the air, everything would be fine. Right? She couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that was pulsing inside her. As she lined the pitch, her heart was beating frantically. Tom, directly in front of her, mouthed something that she didn't catch. The whistle's shrieks echoed across the grounds and Minerva leapt into the air.

"McGonagall has the quaffle- Brown, Stevenson, INTERCEPTED BY RIDDLE- Maloy- Dawkins takes back possession, McGona-Riddle-" The game was violent, the age-old rivalry between the lions and the snakes ignited more powerfully than ever before. Minerva clenched the quaffle's leather hide, swerving and dodging the Slytherin chasers. She glanced up, seeing the Gryffindor seeker zip off after a golden blur.

"THWACK," A Slytherin - Yaxley - hit the broom into Minerva's face, sending her glasses plummeting to the ground, smashing into thousands of tiny little fragments. Minerva swore loudly, but clumsily dodged the Slytherin chasers, and threw the Quaffle at the hoop.

"MCGONAGALL SCORES! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR DESPITE BEING BLINDED BY THE LOSS OF HER GLASSES!" The game commenced as Minerva touched down on the ground, hopelessly muttering Raparo until finally, her glasses sprang into her hands. She sped off, glaring at Yaxley. 

"Little Miss Gryffindor," Minerva bit her cheek violently, trying to avoid Tom.

"Not the time you slimy-" She grabbed the quaffle and lobbed it towards Jenny Stevenson, her chocolate brown ponytail swinging violently. 

"I think you will regret that," He hissed. Suddenly, Minerva felt two strong hands on her back, and the next thing she knew, she was plummeting towards the ground like a failed Wingardium Leviosa spell. As she flailed her arms wildly, the last thing she saw was Tom's smirking face, and the sudden hush that fell over the grounds, and the inky blackness the spread across her vision as she felt her ribs snap with force of hitting the ground.

...

"She missed such a good party you know!"

"If it wasn't for that first goal Slytherin would have won!"

"At least she missed that Transfiguration test,"

"Yeah! I made up question three! She probably would have enjoyed it though,"

"Shush! Don't wake her girls, otherwise, I'll have to ask you to leave," Minerva groaned. Her head was pounding as though someone was using it for a drum, and her chest felt tight and tender.  She glanced around at her surroundings, confused. All she could see were vague people-like blurs mixed with smudges of bright red. She groped for her glasses but quickly retracted her hands. The pain in her side was excruciating.

"Minnie! You're alive!" Malcolm squealed. Minerva's vision clouded with smokey black, the tightness in her chest and the pounding of her head pulling her deep into unconsciousness. 

Throughout that restless, painful, sleepless night, Minerva could have sworn there was a figure by her bedside, long after the nurse had ushered her friends - and brother - away. A figure who held her hand, a wiped her sweating brow, and spoke quietly through all the tossing and turning. Come morning, when the effects of Madam Grey's medicine had worn off, the chair was empty, but the memory still lingered, ebbing away at the corner of her mind. 

Throughout the following week, as the school slowly descended into ball-induced chaos, all Minerva could think of was that lone figure. Half of her wished she was wrong, the other half was over the moon, but both halves knew that Rubeus Hagrid still loved her, and that she still loved him. 

"Little Miss Gryffindor! How great to see you!" Too cold hands dug into her shoulders, and the snobbish voice broke Minerva's bubble of silence. 

"Go away," Tom smirked, feeling the anger bubbling under Minerva's cool exterior. 

"There are many girls in this school who would die for me to look at them. Yet, you are so ungrateful...so selfish," Tom's spindly finger lifted up Minerva's chin, and she froze."Many, many girls, would do...anything...if it meant I would take them to a pathetic ball, like Dolores Umbridge, for example. I have her curled right around my little finger," Bile was bubbling at the back of Minerva's throat. "You will come with me to this dance, and you will tell everyone just how amazing it is, and you will not think about that pesky little boyfriend of yours, understand? Otherwise, your Christmas present will be more than nasty..." Minerva snapped out of her reverie and fled, ready to wash the spot where Tom had touched her face.

As Affrodille went on and on about Thomas Harvey, and Pomona tried to hide how pleased she was that Kenzo Parrish had asked her to the ball, Minerva quietly wrote Christmas cards to Robbie. Even when Minerva found Affrodille yelling at Amelie in a deranged mix of French and English when she found out that Malcolm had asked her out, Minerva felt as though she was floating through school like a ghost (with all body parts attached). 

The whole world was moving forward while she was stuck in quicksand, slowly, silently, pulling her down.