{ Ruins }

 Ruins
AU HBP; Harry Potter, Minerva McGonagall (Harry Potter)
Only two survived the battle.


Harry paused momentarily at the entrance of the hut and examined the ground to see what direction Minerva had headed. The grass was flattened at some points and Harry followed the barely tangible path which ran parallel to the edge of the forest. His breath was short and ragged as he ran looking both right and left for any sign of Minerva. The grass suddenly held no blemishes and Harry looked about wildly for a glimpse of Minerva’s instantly recognisable form.  His gaze was drawn toward the forest and he stepped forward uncertainly past experience dictating extreme caution. He trod quietly avoiding any dead twigs and approached the forest in completely silence. He stood still and listened for any noise that could lead him to Minerva’s whereabouts.

“You have quite nice legs there Potter.”

His face shot upward and he saw Minerva grinning impishly from the boughs of a tall tree.

“How did you get up there?” he demanded.

Minerva laughed at his angry expression, “My animagus form is a cat if you recall.”

“Get down here now!”

Minerva looked shocked at the tone of his voice but quickly transformed and leapt down landing neatly on her feet before returning to her human form.

“You need to start answering some questions,” Harry said in a more aggressive tone than he intended, “If you wouldn’t mind,” he added in attempt to be more polite.

Minerva shot him a look of daggers and planted her feet firmly on the ground and folded her arms across her chest, “Ask your questions Potter. Whether or not I answer them is my prerogative and not yours.”

Harry looked at her angry eyes that were flashing ominously but pressed onward. “Tom Riddle. What was your relationship with him?”

Minerva clenched her jaw and her lips thinned alarmingly. “That is none of your concern.”

“That man became Voldemort for Merlin’s sake! I recently killed him! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Minerva’s eyes filled suddenly with tears but she held Harry’s gaze unflinchingly. “I know exactly what happened Potter. And a part of me will never forgive you for murdering him.”

Harry’s voice died in his throat as he watched as a tear slid down Minerva’s face. “How can you say that?” he whispered finally, “He killed so many people…”

“But I didn’t know them Harry,” Minerva said softly, “They were nameless to me. Tom wasn’t.”

“How could you love such a monster?” Harry asked in disbelief.

Minerva shook her head as another rogue tear fell down her cheer landing silently on the damp grass, “He saved me Harry. He told me I was beautiful. He was the first man who didn’t treat me like a sex toy. He loved me. Does that answer your question?”

Harry nodded dumbly as Minerva turned and ran away from him. He sprinted after her and grabbed her wrist. She turned on him with all the fury of a wildcat and Harry held up his hands protectively to fend off her ferocious attack. She soon tired and Harry managed to get hold of her wrists and hold her still.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered his grip hard as she tried to pull away from him.

“Why do you want to dredge this up?” she shrieked. With an almost animalistic strength she tore from his grasp and transformed into her animagus form and sprinted toward the castle. Harry was well aware he would never catch up with her and took out his wand.

“Accio Minerva McGonagall!” he shouted.

The tabby cat with the spectacle markings stopped short in its mad dash and flew toward him. Harry managed to catch her but was forced to release her when she dug her claws mercilessly into his chest. Harry muttered the transformation spell and Minerva reappeared in her human form though she continued to fight like a demon her nails connecting with Harry’s face.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

She fell down as stiff as a board and Harry wiped away the blood that dripped down his face before leaning over her. Her eyes were full of something akin to hatred as she glared at him.

“I’m going to release you now,” Harry said firmly, “But you are going to promise me that you will not fight me again.”

Her pupils narrowed dangerously but she blinked twice which Harry took as affirmation to his requestion.

“Finite incantatem.”

Minerva sat up immediately and snarled viciously when he put his hand on her shoulder. He withdrew it sharply and looked silently at the witch beside him. She was breathing heavily her chest rising and falling in great shuddering breaths. She steadfastly refused to look at him and Harry reached across and forcibly moved her to face him. She didn’t resist and Harry found himself looking into a pair of emerald eyes which belied a great sadness whilst retaining their strength.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered fervently, “I really am.”

Minerva’s bottom lip trembled alarmingly and for the first time she allowed her grief to surface. Her body racked with sobs and Harry pulled her toward him and rocked her gently back and forth. Her fingernails dug into his back and he was certain that she had drawn blood but he didn’t pull back from her. She buried her face into his chest and Harry stroked her hair softly his fingers teasing through the thick locks.
She finally raised her face and looked at him again. Tears had stained her cheeks but she smiled weakly and ran a finger lightly along his jaw line. “What scares me is how much you look like him,” she whispered hoarsely, “The resemblance is uncanny.”

She let her hand fall and once again buried her face in his chest. Harry gently manoeuvred himself so he was able to rise to his feet and gently picked her up and walked slowly back to the hut. Minerva didn’t protest and lay limply in his arms her cheek resting against Harry’s right clavicle.

He reached the hut and entered and lay her down gently on the bed. She smiled slightly as he looked at her and Harry became uncomfortably aware that tear-streaked or not she was beautiful. Her expression became unreadable and Harry began to draw back when she reached upward and pulled down on his shirt.  Harry didn’t struggle as she raised her head slightly and brushed her blood red lips with his. His mind went blank as she deepened the kiss and he responded against his better judgement and ran his tongue lightly against her lips which she parted immediately. His tongue explored the crevices of her mouth and he gave a sigh of disappointment when she pulled back sharply.

“You don’t kiss the same,” she said wiping a finger along her bottom lip.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him with a finger to his lips. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she said softly, “I apologise.”
Harry nodded mutely as she rolled onto her side and stared at the dancing flames of the fire. He touched a finger to his lips not quite believing what had just happened. He had been kissed before but never like that. He turned and sat down at the kitchen table staring at the witch who lay on the bed with her back to him steadfastly to turn around. He opened his mouth to speak several times but no words could express what he wanted to say. In the end he settled for silence.


The previously bright and sunny day became stormy in what seemed like the blink of an eye. As Harry stood at the kitchen bench he watched as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled overhead. The leaves that littered the forest ground flew into the air and whirled in concentric circles. The lake became the same stormy black of the sky and its formerly smooth surface turned into a tumultuous sea of waves that threatened to break the shore bank.

“It’s our first summer storm.”

Harry turned at the sound of Minerva’s voice and found her standing at the entrance of the hut peering outwards. Rain lashed viciously against her body but she didn’t seem to notice as she gazed at her surroundings.

“The giant squid will have taken refuge at the lake bottom,” she continued.

She closed the door of the hut and stepped back inside dripping water onto the floor. Harry noticed she was shivering and cast a warming charm. She smiled her thanks and Harry was captivated by the blood red lips that had brushed against his own less than an hour previously.

“Minerva,” he said finally. She raised a quizzical eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth making Harry forget momentarily what he was going to say, “Would you like a cup of tea?”

She looked at him for a moment apparently oblivious to the rising flush on his cheeks before nodding.

“That would be lovely.” she said walking across the room and sitting at the kitchen table. She crossed her legs and rested her elbows against the table and kneaded her temples.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked concerned at how the small amount of colour in her skin disappeared.

She raised her head and smiled weakly, “I was just thinking. I used to go swimming in weather like this.”

Harry took one look at the gleam in her eye and shook his head vigorously. “Don’t even think about it,” he said firmly.

Minerva looked at him pointedly and rose to her feet. Harry stood and blocked her path to the door and folded his arms across his chest. “Minerva no.”

Minerva grinned wickedly and with a small pop transformed into her animagus guise and flew through Harry’s legs. She hurled herself at the door and it swung open leaving her entrance unmarred. Harry watched in horror as the tabby cat sprinted to the edge of the lake and put a delicate paw in the water. Minerva reappeared in her human form and with one last look at Harry stripped off her clothing and dived into the stormy waters.  She broke through the surface and Harry could hear her laughing as the waves tossed her about before she cut cleanly through them and repeated the process. Harry smiled slightly at the sound of her laugh which was melodious to the ears. She had never laughed in his school years and even in recent times he had only ever heard a demure chuckle.

He watched as Minerva swam closer to the shore bench and rose to her feet allowing the water to pound against her willowy frame. Her head was flung back and her hair hung in a wet mass; its thick locks heavy with the water. She had her mouth open catching the rain with her tongue and she began to spin in circles her arms out-stretched. Her laugh echoed across the grounds and Harry allowed himself a small smile before he strode out with the full intention of dragging her back inside after reprimanding her for acting like a child.

As he neared her she stopped spinning and looked at him. Harry couldn’t help but stare. Her cheeks, normally so pale, were flushed and light pink and the flush extended to her eyes making them bright and full of life; a sharp contrast to the haunted look he was accustomed to. Her chest rose and fell rapidly from her recent exertion and her breasts strained the simple black bra she wore.

“We should get back inside,” he said finally looking pointedly into her eyes and not allowing his gaze to falter.

The thunder gave a particularly loud crack and she started slightly.

“Perhaps we should,” she said softly.

Harry nodded and bent down and retrieved her jeans and shirt which she thrown off haphazardly in her rush to the lake. He held them out to her and she took them silently her eyes never leaving his.

“Thank you,” she whispered holding her clothes close to her chest.

She side-stepped around him and strode back to the hut leaving Harry alone to follow. He did so slowly the image of her spinning in the rain etched in his brain.

When he finally entered the hut he found Minerva towelling herself dry. She shot him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said softly, “But rain has that effect on me.”

Harry waved her apology away and strode purposely toward the kettle. “I believe we were having a cup of tea?” he said changing the subject entirely.

She smiled slightly, “Yes I do believe we were.”

Harry nodded and pointed his wand at the kettle. It emitted a jet of steam immediately and he placed teabags into two cups and poured the boiling water on top savouring the aromatic smell that arose. He held one out to Minerva who took it silently and sat on the edge of her bed sipping quietly. Her eyes were not focussed on the floor in which she was staring and Harry could hazard a guess where her mind was when she began to shake violently sending the mug crashing to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered repairing the cup with a wave of her wand, “I was…”

“You were thinking about the past,” Harry finished.

“Something like that,” she said nodding.

“I found a poem today,” Harry said crossing the room and picking up the small piece of parchment that had catalysed the events of the morning. He held it out to her tentatively as she shot him a sharp look and took the parchment from him. She read it quickly before smoothing it out and placing it gently beside her as if it were about to disintegrate.

“He always did love poetry,” she said with a flicker of a smile.

“Tom?” Harry asked tentatively.

She nodded as she stared at the handwriting, “Tom,” she affirmed.

She looked toward the bedside table where the black book lay and summoned it toward her. After looking at it for a few moments she inhaled deeply and gestured for Harry to sit beside her.

“I need to show you something,” she whispered.
Harry didn’t say anything as he sat down next to her making sure she was comfortable with his presence. She opened the book and flicked expertly to one of the middle pages Harry hadn’t seen yet.

“He sent this to me three years after he had left Hogwarts. He used to send me notes frequently but this one, this one is special,” she said quietly withdrawing a scrap of parchment and handing it to Harry. He took it wordlessly but couldn’t help but inhale sharply as he read the neat text.

It rain’d about him blood and tears, but he
Drank them as free
A way where you might tread the sun, and be
More bright than he.
But as I did their madness so discuss
One whisper’d thus,
“This ring the Bridegroom did for none provide,
But for his bride.”
He looked upward at Minerva who was examining her fingernails.

“What does this mean?” he asked.

In response Minerva muttered a counter-concealment charm and a delicate gold necklace appeared around her neck. She unclasped it and held it out to Harry who let it run through his fingers before stopping short. A simple gold ring with a singular diamond with adjacent emeralds shone in his fingers.

“A marriage proposal?”

Minerva nodded as tears began to stream down her face, “I couldn’t accept as much as I wanted to,” she whispered, “I don’t think he ever really expected me to though.”

“Why not?”

She smiled weakly, “I never liked the look of agony."

“But you kept the ring?”

She rose to her feet and stood in the centre of the hut with her arms folded as if she were cold.

“Everyone needs a memento Harry. Even if it’s painful.”


The storm continued through the night and Harry tossed and turned in his bed willing sleep to overtake him. His attempts were futile and he rose and sat in front of the fire staring aimlessly at the dying embers. His thoughts were in turmoil; Minerva McGonagall, Leader of Order of the Phoenix, had been embroiled in a battle against her former lover who, judging by the information he knew, she had never stopped loving.

The glowing coals were a burnt orange and Harry held his hands out savouring the warmth that ran through his body. His mind wandered to Order meetings where Minerva had sat at the head of the table at Grimmauld Place and detailed battle manoeuvrers that would defeat Voldemort. He could remember her last speech with clarity as it had been what had spurred him on to fire the killing curse at Voldemort.

‘Most of you know that the battle we are about to face will be our most difficult. There will be casualties; no one should have any misconceptions about that, not everyone here will return. I hope this number will be few but we are facing the most evil force this world has ever known; I can say that without being melodramatic for this is simply a statement of fact.   While you are out there fighting and see your friends struck down do not falter, if you see a Death Eater use the Killing Curse. Do not bother with stunning or petrificus totalus; it will get us no where. I’m sorry to have to say this but we must fight fire with fire and if that means that we will become killers than it is a small price to pay for the peace that will ensue if we win.

Now I know what the prophecy says and that Harry is meant to kill the Dark Lord. Do not let this cloud your judgement. The Dark Lord is a mere man, and now that we have successfully destroyed all the horcruxes he is as fallible as you or I. If you see him, do not for a second hesitate to kill him. That one second of hesitation will be your death certificate. Are we clear?’

The entire Order had nodded solemnly though some looked shocked at the underlying brutality of Minerva’s words.

"Then I suggest we move and get this over with."

Harry’s thoughts wandered to when he had found Minerva in the battlefield battered and bruised. He remembered easing the dagger blade from her back and his eyes wandered until they fell on the deadly weapon. Minerva still hadn’t explained the significance of the blade or how it related to Tom Riddle and her family. It means one of them is back and want their pound flesh.

“Can’t sleep?”

Harry shook his head as Minerva sat down beside him and looked at him. She hadn’t bothered to redo the concealment charm and Riddle’s ring hung from the necklace resting in the hollow just above her breasts.

“I was just thinking,” Harry said not looking away from the fireplace.

“I see. I take it my latest revelation has shocked you somewhat.”

Harry turned his head and looked at her, “Understatement of the century.”

She laughed softly and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You needed to know,” her voice faltered slightly as she continued. “What I said earlier Harry, about me never forgiving you. That was a lie. Tom turned into a monster and the world is a better place without him.”

“Then why keep the ring?”

Minerva withdrew her hand and bit her lip as she pondered her answer. “I never saw Tom as Voldemort. To me he was always the green-eyed boy who I fell in love with when I was 16.”

“What happened to change your mind?”

Minerva looked into the flames again as she recited a poem in a voice that had obviously read the lines countless times.

“Please be calm, despite that previous threat.
I am all bluster –
I am not violent. I am not malicious.
I am a result.
Sometimes I arrive too early,
I rush,
And some people cling longer
To life than expected”

“Minerva what does that mean?” Harry asked exasperatedly.

Minerva looked at him and Harry felt as if she were searching the very depths of his soul her gaze was so intense.

“He wrote that to me the night before he attacked your family,” Minerva said softly, “Of course it made no sense at the time but when I heard that you…” She fell silent as tears began to course down her face but when she spoke again her voice held no tremor, “From that point on he became Voldemort. I wanted nothing more to do with him though I retained the memory of Tom.”

She rose to her feet leaving Harry alone to ponder this latest piece of information. Enigma barely even began to describe Minerva McGonagall.

He turned as he heard a tapping at the window and saw Minerva pulling in a thoroughly dishevelled owl who hooted feebly as she conjured an owl treat and placed it gently on the table. Minerva opened the letter and read it quickly her eyes narrowing alarmingly as she scanned the words that were obviously not to her liking. To his intense surprise she burst into laughter as she neared the end.

“What’s so amusing?” Harry asked also rising to his feet and crossing the room to stand over her shoulder and read the letter.

“I just found out who our new Minister for Magic is,” Minerva said off-handedly handing Harry the letter.

To Ms. McGonagall,
I write to inform you that your letter regarding Hogwarts has been received. Whilst I am pleased at your intentions to re-open the school so soon there are factors that need to be discussed. I expect to see you soon so the Ministry and Hogwarts can work together in a fruitful relationship versus the animosity that has ensued for the past few years.
Sincerely
Belladona Atropha
Minister for Magic
P.S:- you will be receiving the Order of Merlin first class for your war efforts.

Harry smiled as he read the last sentence, “Well at least they’re acknowledging you.”

“Mm,” Minerva said distractedly as she looked at the owl that had fallen asleep where it sat. She shook her head and sighed deeply, “How could they send this poor animal out in the middle of a storm?”

She picked up the owl gently and took it over to her bed where she proceeded to examine it thoroughly, “Well there’s no lasting damage but she won’t be flying for at least a week,” Minerva said placing the owl back on the table where it promptly fell asleep again.

“Do you know the new Minister?” Harry asked looking at the signature, Belladonna Atropha.

Minerva nodded her head as she stood and walked over to the wardrobe, “And I have never heard of such a fitting name.”

Seeing the questioning look on Harry’s face she elaborated.

“Have you heard of the plant ‘Deadly Nightshade’?” she said holding up a red set of robes and screwing her face in distaste before replacing them.

She glanced over to Harry who shook his head.

“It’s an extremely beautiful and yet extremely toxic plant,” she said taking out an emerald set of robes and slamming the wardrobe shut and glaring at its closed doors, “Its scientific name is ‘Atropha Belladona.’”

“And this is fitting how?” Harry asked.

Minerva shot him a condescending look, “Miss Atropha is a very beautiful, very intelligent witch who I wouldn’t trust as far as I could throw her.”

“Are you going to meet her?”

Minerva nodded as she placed the robes flat on the bed, “I’m going today. The soon I get the meeting over with the better.”

“Right now?”

She nodded again as she withdrew her wand and pointed it at the robes, “It’s nine o’clock in the morning Harry. She should be at work now.”

Minerva flicked her wand a few times and her robes were transformed into a set that were much more tailored and of a finer material.

“Can I come along?”

Minerva shot him a sharp look. “I don’t need a chaperone,” she said coldly.

“I don’t intend to be one. I would merely like to go somewhere that isn’t the lake, the castle, the grounds or this hut,” Harry retorted.
Minerva’s expression softened and she smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry. I don’t take well to people helping me when I don’t need help.”

“And when you do?”

“I don’t tend to like that either,” she admitted.

“I’ve noticed.”

She rolled her eyes as she walked past him and into the bathroom, “I’ll just get dressed,” she said over her shoulder.

Harry nodded and stared aimlessly out the window as he waited for her to return.

“And you’re not wearing that,” Minerva said as she re-emerged wearing newly transfigured robes.

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Minerva held up her hand and with a swish of her wand Harry’s clothing changed into a handsome set of navy-blue robes.

“Thank you,” he said grudgingly.

Minerva waved off his thanks as she replaced her wand into her robe pocket. “We should go,” she said shortly.

Harry nodded and followed Minerva out of the hut and down the winding road that led to the Hogwarts gates.

“We’re apparating I take it,” Harry said as they strode quickly.

“Indeed we are.”

They reached the gates and stood together before Harry felt the squeezing sensation of apparition and found himself in the Hall of the Ministry of Magic.

“Let’s go,” Minerva said tugging on his arm and dragging him to the counter.

She led him through the maze of corridors that was the Ministry of Magic and stopped short when they reached a heavy oak door.

“Now I strongly suggest you let me do the talking,” Minerva said softly.

She knocked sharply on the door and Harry heard a feminine voice call ‘Come in.”
Minerva opened the door with her usual confident air and Harry watched as her body composed itself into an authoritative posture and her striking features schooled themselved into the hardened expression of a woman who had fought a horrendous battle and emerged victorious.

He inwardly grinned. Belladonna Atropha would have a hard time intimidating Minerva McGonagall.


As Harry stepped in behind Minerva he saw her back muscles stiffen alarmingly. A second later he knew why.

“Hey sis.”

Harry moved out from behind Minerva whose jaw had clenched resolutely as she stared at her brother.

“Eachann,” she said curtly. Her eyes had darkened alarmingly and Harry watched with satisfaction that Eachann quailed slightly though he didn’t break eye contact. The man in question stood with the arrogant posture of someone accustomed to getting his own way with his back straight and head thrust up high. A smoothly sloping forehead descended to steel-grey eyes which at the present time were surveying his sister with barely disguised lust. His nose was straight and his cheekbones high and prominent with a full mouth. His white, blonde hair which, like his sisters held not trace of grey, accentuated his strong jaw giving him the look of a fighter. His tall and muscular build leant themselves to this feature and Harry could see the muscles straining the white fabric of his long-sleeved shirt.

“Minerva how are you?” the feminine voice Harry had heard seconds ago said from behind the great bulk that was Minerva’s brother.

Eachann moved obligingly and the new Minister for Magic came into view. Harry’s first thought was ‘She is beautiful’ though his second was ‘she has nothing on Minerva.’ He inwardly shook himself; this was not the time.

Belladonna was beautiful in the classical sense with Madonna features surrounded by blonde waves which fell well past her shoulders.

Her eyes were blue and her periwinkle robes gave them a slightly darker hue. Her eyes fell upon Harry and her mouth dropped slightly.

“Mr Potter,” she said finally, “I must say this is a surprise.”

Harry raised his eyebrows and glanced at Minerva who was looking pointedly at the Minister. Her blood-red lips were the thinnest of thin lines. He turned back and gave his full attention to the Minister.

“May I ask why?” he asked coldly.

“We thought you were dead,” Belladonna Atropha stuttered.

Harry’s eyes widened slightly, “Why would you think that?”

Harry could see she was flustered as she answered, “Well the battle field. There were so many bodies; we made the assumption that you were among the unidentifiable dead that surrounded You-Know-Who’s body.”

“I see,” Minerva interrupted her voice as hard as flint, “Well seeing as Harry is standing beside me quite well and most assuredly alive you can admit you were mistaken.”

Harry snorted softly. Minerva and her sarcasm was a force to be reckoned with.

“Now I believe I was to discuss the school with you?” she continued ignoring Harry.

Belladonna shot a look that spoke volumes at Minerva who looked supremely concerned. “Actually Minerva I’ll be leaving you in Eachann’s capable hands. He’s the new Education Minister.”

Minerva’s face showed a flurry of emotions in the short space of a second before she schooled them into her usual impenetrable mask.

“Well shall we meet now or at a later specified date?” she asked with more composure than Harry thought humanely possible.

“Perhaps tomorrow at Hogwarts?” Eachann suggested whilst his mouth twitched slightly as he saw the slight crack in his sister’s emotional armour, “In your office?”

Minerva nodded curtly, “That would be quite satisfactory. Now if you’ll excuse me I have business to attend to.”

She turned sharply on her heel and had reached for the doorhandle when Eachann’s voice rang out behind her. “Tom sends his regards. He asked me a few weeks ago to give you what he knew you held dear. I’m sorry to say it didn’t reach its intended target.”

To the untrained ear it would have sounded like an ordinary comment but Harry read easily through the oblique threat and from the way Minerva’s knuckles glowed white as she grasped the doorknob with every ounce of strength she possessed he knew she did too.

“I’ll be sure to thank him if I see him,” she said over her shoulder as she opened the door. She didn’t wait for any further verbal sparing from Eachann and sped down the corridor with Harry behind her. She began to run as she turned a corner but stopped short at a large potter plant and vomited up the meagre contents of her stomach. Harry rushed forward and gently held her hair away from her face as she wretched once more causing green bile to emerge from her throat.

She straightened and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “I’m sorry,” she said hoarsely, “I just got a bit of a shock.”

Harry shook his head and placed a gentle hand on her waist. “It must be difficult,” he said softly.

She looked up at him through heavily-lidded eyes that were fast becoming black. “It may be difficult,” she said the hoarseness in her voice vanishing, “But I am if nothing else a survivor and I’ll rot in hell before I let my brother ruin the life I’ve built for myself.”

Harry nodded and gave a grim smile. “I never though anything less of you,” he said meaning every word.

She gave him a soft smile for the vehemence of his words, “Thank you. Now I have to get back and get the school organised.”

She took his hand gently from her waist and began to walk quickly away from him toward the apparition point. Harry dashed after her.

“I’ll help,” he said falling into step with her long strides. She was no longer that towering figure he remembered as a first year but she was considerably tall nonetheless.

“Thank you,” she said reached out and giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “I think I might need it.”

Harry gave a shrewd grin, “The mighty Minerva McGonagall admitting she needs help?” he said sardonically, “Has the world stopped spinning.”

She glared at him though Harry could see a faint glimmer of humour. “Sarcasm does not become you Harry,” she said shortly as she stepped into the apparition point.

Harry stood beside her and rolled his eyes. “You can’t really talk Minerva. You have a reputation for being sarcastic,” he said pointedly.

She gave him a rare smile, “I Harry, unlike you, find that sarcasm is very becoming indeed.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort but Minerva disappeared with a soft pop. Rolling his eyes again Harry too apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Minerva was nowhere to be seen.


Harry opened his mouth to retort but Minerva disappeared with a soft pop. Rolling his eyes again Harry too apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Minerva was nowhere to be seen.  He saw a silver streak shoot across the grounds and sprinted towards it. The tabby cat began to tire as it reached the Quiddith pitch and began to stagger as if it were intoxicated. Concerned Harry increased his pace and watched in alarm at the tabby cat keeled over and lay against the damp grass unconscious bleeding profusely from its side.

“Minerva?” Harry said quietly as he knelt beside the silver cat. The feline didn’t respond and Harry cautiously placed a hand on its stomach.

Minerva in her animagus form gave no indication that she had felt his action and Harry gently picked her up and cradled her tightly to his chest as he ran back to Hagrid’s hut.

Once inside he placed Minerva on the bed and pulled his wand out of his pocket.

“Rectifus animagi,” he said softly pointing his wand at the feline on the bed. Instantly the silver tabby became Minerva and Harry dropped his wand at what he saw. A sense of déjà vu overwhelmed him as he watched blood seeping out of Minerva’s robes quickly staining the patchwork quilt below her.

He undid the front of her robes and quickly found the source of the blood. Minerva had been hit by a particularly powerful sectum semptra curse and the deep gash ran in a direction line from one hip across to the other. He swore lightly under his breath as he used Minerva’s already ruined robes as a compression bandage. Had she not gone through enough already without a new injury to contend with?
His thoughts drifted back to his first introduction to Eachann. He looked cruel and Harry was sure that he was more than capable for Minerva’s latest injury but it begged the question how did he get here? They had left less than five minutes after their meeting with the Belladona and Eachann.

Harry frowned as he knelt down and retrieved his wand from the floor and summoned a bowl filled with hot water toward him. He did not understand what was happening or perhaps more importantly why it was happening. He pointed his wand at the tall cupboard and summoned table salt to where he knelt beside Minerva. After pouring generous amounts into the steaming water thereby making a basic antiseptic Harry resumed his musing. The knife, the chess piece, the little black book and now Eachann. When were the revelations going to stop?

He gently wiped away the caked blood from Minerva’s lower stomach and inspected the wound. It wasn’t as deep as Harry had first thought and he breathed a sigh of relief. Even witches as strong as Minerva couldn’t maintain their immune defences against such violent assaults as she had recently.

He finished cleaning the wound and bandaged it tightly. He then did an inspection of her other injuries. The gash that ran the entire length of her torso had healed leaving a nasty looking pink scar. He ran his finger along the raised flesh as he peered closer to gauge how successful his medical attempts had been. His fingers reached another spot of unmistakeable scar tissue which Harry looked at in surprise. The scar blended with Minerva’s pale skin and was the reason he hadn’t noticed it before. The size of a fist it rested in the centre of Minerva’s chest.

Stepping back from his former Professor Harry made sure she was relatively comfortable before crossing over to his own bed and taking the small black book from the small table that sat between the two. He was determined to find out Minerva’s past and if that meant having to look over every painful memory contained within the books pages then so be it.

Harry opened the book and turned to the first page where Minerva looked back as a 10-year-old. He turned the pages quickly ignoring those he had read before. All of them showed Minerva in varying states of undress and more often than not with bruises peppering her body. The neat script beside each photo read like a diary though it lacked any emotion. It was as if Minerva wrote of her experiences from another’s point of view.

He turned over a page and found himself staring at the same dagger that rested on the table next to him. The blade in question still had its hilt which was made of ivory with what looked like sapphires embedded which were placed in such a way they formed the shape of a snake. Harry tore his eyes from the beautiful piece and read Minerva’s neat handwriting. What he read made him want to vomit.  Today, which incidentally is my 15th birthday, Eachann has ensured that I will never be able to have children. He wielded the family blade against me in a manner which has ruined my body and negated any chance I had of children. I fainted in the first few minutes and woke in the Hospital Wing with Madame Pomfrey hooking an intravenous line into my arm. I’d lost a lot of blood and she was giving me what she called a blood transfusion. I didn’t really pay much attention and asked her what had happened. She told me that Tom Riddle had found me on the jetty unconscious and had brought me to the Hospital Wing.

Then she asked me if I knew who had done this to me. Eachann took that moment to go into his ‘loving elder brother’ role and burst inside and grabbed my hand and asked me if I was alright. All the time he had a feral smirk on his face and he squeezed my fingers too hard almost breaking them. Of course I couldn’t answer truthfully and told Madame Pomfrey I had no idea. She seemed to accept this explanation but when I turned my head I saw Tom Riddle looking at me. I don’t know when he had come into the Hospital wing but I knew the second our eyes locked that he knew exactly what had happened to me.

He looked at me but I don’t think he pities me. In some way I think he rather identifies with me. I don’t know how but when Eachann left he asked Madame Pomfrey if he could stay for a few moments. She agreed and the instant she was out of earshot he kissed me on the forehead and said ‘They will never hurt you again if I can help it.’ Then he left and I have no idea what I’m meant to think. After all he’s a sixth year and most often older students want nothing to do with younger students. And why he would feel the need to want to protect me I don’t know. Though I must admit his words were reassuring to say the least.

Harry closed his eyes tightly as unwanted images flittered into his brain before he turned to the next page. He smiled slightly as he looked at the photo of a Minerva who was smiling, albeit shyly, at the camera rather than the usual haunted mask she usual wore. The words that accompanied the photo however turned Harry’s smile into a slight frown.

Tom Riddle asked me to Hogsmeade today. At first I thought it was to discuss my injuries and I thought he was going to pressure me into telling him everything but on the contrary he simply took me to the Three Broomsticks where we talked. He didn’t want anything from me except what he called ‘intelligent conversation.’ According to him all the sixth years combined don’t have enough brains to fill an egg cup. Which made me laugh – something I haven’t done for years.

Harry wanted to hate the Voldemort in these pages but as he read Minerva’s neat text he found he could not. Feeling completely and utterly non-pulsed Harry turned the page and found Minerva sitting on a bed crying with Tom Riddle holding her in his arms rocking her back and forth while he stroked her hair.

Tom was true to his word. Today he found Eachann pushing me against the desk in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom whilst he ripped at my clothes. He had cast a silencing charm on me so screaming was no use and I prepared myself for the inevitable. Then I felt Eachann being lifted off me and saw Tom punch him forcefully in the jaw before he turned to me and held out his hand. I took it and he led me out of the classroom and brought me to the Slytherin common room where he took me to his bedroom and demanded to know everything. And for some reason I told him. He didn’t seem repulsed as I expected and when I began to cry he simply held me tightly. When I finished crying he pushed my face upwards and kissed me on the forehead before leading me out of his bedroom and then out of the Slytherin common room. He escorted me back to the Gryffindor common room entrance and before I went inside he took my hand in his and kissed it. I have no idea what to think.

Harry closed the book shut and replaced it onto the table. He held his head in his hands as the words from the book swirled in his mind.

And to think Minerva was meeting Eachann tomorrow.