June Week

Chapter 15: New Leaves

Crash!

Lightening had forked across the storm-darkened sky only an instant before the thunder came along. Almost immediately, it flickered again, and everyone in the fifth-year Transfiguration class stopped what they were doing to watch - at least, as well as they could watch through the rain that sheeted down the window glass. According to the calendar, today was the first day of spring. The weather had other ideas.

"Excuse me," said Minerva from the front of her classroom. "I´m sure you´ve all seen rain before, so if you don´t mind, I have a lesson to teach." She looked pointedly at the big grandfather clock in the corner, and slowly, the students dragged their attention back to her.

"Very well then. As there´s more water outside today than anyone could possibly need, we´re going to put some of it to good use by learning how to turn water into another liquid. Not any sort of alcoholic beverage, Mr. Maher," she said, before the skinny, freckled boy in the last row could say anything. All the other Gryffindors snickered. They knew about the parties Maher hosted in his dormitory on Saturday nights. So did Minerva, who had broken up a number of them when she was a prefect and Maher was a precocious third year.

Deciding that she might as well forestall all the inappropriate suggestions at once, she went on: "Not anything flammable or poisonous either. And definitely not any bodily fluid."

"What, then?" asked Maher, looking into the silver bowl of rainwater on his desk.

"Milk," said Minerva firmly, and ignored the groans of "Milk - ugh" and "Can´t we at least make it cocoa - it´s so cold in here -"that sprang up throughout the room. She showed them the proper way to perform the transfiguration, took a quick tour of the tables to make sure that no one was messing around, then sat down and watched them go to it.

If there was one benefit to having given up spying, she reflected (noting at the same time that the group nearest the windows had already finished and probably deserved a reward for their success) it was having more energy for her teaching. She´d slept so little at night for the last year and a half that she´d always wanted to put her head down on her desk and pass out by this point in the afternoon. Now that she was alert again, keeping proper order was much easier, as was thinking of creative classroom activities. For instance, incorporating the rain into the day´s lesson.

Still, it was proving terribly difficult to abandon the purpose that had consumed her for so long. Heaven knew she´d tried. Beginning the very day after the Christmas concert, she´d ceased her patrols of the hallways, opting instead to retire early with a book, or to join Dumbledore for his traditional bedtime snack of toast with almond butter. ("Full of wonderful, natural sleep-promoting substances," he always proclaimed, as if he were advertising it on the WWN.) In the area of food, she´d also made a valiant effort to concentrate on eating rather than watching Tom during meals. She´d actually put on a few pounds from that, which was good - for the first time in ages, she could stand up without getting dizzy and sit down without feeling her bones grinding against the chair.

But giving up the hunt altogether - ah, that was another story. Because Tom was still there, right under her nose, whether she looked for him or not. And no matter how firm her resolve, she found herself following him with her eyes wherever he went, looking for something, for anything ...

"Miss McGonagall!" someone wailed from a table near the window. "Smith is turning our milk all sour on purpose, and it´s full of lumps!"

"Mr. Smith, turn it fresh again unless you´d like to drink it that way," Minerva called. Smith waved his wand over the bowl with alacrity.

Yes, teaching was definitely getting easier. Surely closing off the past would too. Time would take Tom and everything he represented far away, and she would never see him again. Until then, she had work to do.

Picking up a cup from her desk, she wandered around the room again, sampling a little milk from everyone´s bowl to see how their efforts had come out and awarding and subtracting points - ten to the group by the window for finishing first, five to another group for putting a delicate touch of strawberry essence in their product, five away from freckle-faced Maher´s group for leaving theirs so watery that it tasted as if they´d used it to wash a dirty milk glass. She had to remind herself not to lick her lips after each sip. Along with a taste for fish and a nearly uncontrollable desire to loll around in warm, sunny spots, her experience as a cat had given her a whole new appreciation for milk. Dumbledore, who sat next to her at breakfast every morning, had learned to put the stone milk jug far out of her reach if he wanted to save any for himself.

When the bell signaling the end of class rang, Minerva sent the chattering Gryffindors on their way and banished their leftover projects to the kitchen to be cleaned up by the house-elves. Then she gathered up her things and left, locking the door carefully behind her. She´d meant to go down and see Hagrid after class - Sugar hadn´t been well lately, and Hagrid, who had a way with animals of all sorts, had offered to look him over for her - but the rain showed no signs of lessening, and she didn´t care to get drenched on the way there. It wouldn´t do Sugar any good either. Maybe she´d go back to her room and sit by the fireplace for a while. The students were right; the castle got awfully cold and drafty on days like this.

She was walking slowly through the halls, not thinking of much except whether to have cocoa or hot apple cider once in front of the fire, when someone laid a hand on her shoulder from behind. She nearly swore in surprise, but choked the expletive back and turned to look at the person who had stopped her.

"You´re to come with me, Miss McGonagall," Tom said.

~~~

Her first impulse was to duck out from under the hand that still rested on her, and she obeyed it, not caring if she looked rude or not. Though she´d lost the instinctive, visceral fear of him some time ago, suddenly coming face to face with him, and worse, being touched by him, was enough to send cold shock crashing into her like a wave of ice water.

Stop it, Minerva, stop it RIGHT NOW. Drawing herself up, she demanded "What do you mean, creeping up on me that way? And where am I supposed to be going with you?"

"There´s a meeting in the Headmaster´s office," said Tom. "He sent me to fetch you." His dark eyes rested on her dispassionately, as if Dippet had asked him to collect a book or a pair of spectacles instead of a person.

"And this meeting is about ...?"

"I really couldn´t say. But Professor Dumbledore and a woman from the Ministry are there too, and a few other people. They´re waiting for us now. Come along."

Walk with him through the halls? She´d rather go for a stroll in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid´s giant spider.

"You go ahead," she said. "I - I have to take these to my room." With a dip of her head, she indicated the pile of books and papers she still held. "Tell the Headmaster I´ll be there as soon as I can."

Tom stood looking at her a moment longer. Somehow, with his perfectly pressed black robes and shiny badge, he managed to make her feel intimidated, as if she were a first-year student in trouble with the Head Boy. She was furious at herself for feeling that way - she was not only his senior, but, as a teacher, his superior - but she couldn´t help it. To cover her discomfort, she spoke as coldly as she could.

"I gave you an instruction," she said. "Go and take my message before I give you detention to go with it."

He didn´t look worried by her threat, but he did as she said. Of course he would. He was known for abiding by rules, for always doing what was proper. It was a well-polished act, and he wasn´t about to let it slip over a ten-minute delay in delivering her to a meeting.

"I´ll tell the Headmaster," he said. With that, he turned and walked away down the hall, moving quickly without seeming to hurry. Minerva only watched him go for a second before heading off to do what she´d said she would. Teacher or not, he was right - she couldn´t keep the Headmaster waiting for long. At least in an assembly of that sort, which sounded like it contained Bella as well as Albus, her safety was assured.

~~~

When she slipped through the door to Dippet´s office, Bella was indeed there, sleek and elegant in Muggle clothing again, with a faint nod and smile to acknowledge their acquaintance. As part of her new philosophy, Minerva had swallowed her pride and invited Bella to meet her at the Three Broomsticks several weeks before so she could make amends for her behavior regarding the spiked-tea incident. The older woman had accepted her apology gracefully, and given her an affectionate hug when they parted. Now, however, she was all business, every inch the Auror.

Dumbledore, sitting next to his cousin, smiled at Minerva with more warmth, but made no move toward her. On his right, Charlotte Borgin, a brown-haired, dark-skinned Ravenclaw who was this year´s Head Girl, was talking quietly to Tom, and did not look up to see who had come in. The other two people in the room - both middle-aged men - were unfamiliar, but looked like officials of some sort.

"Ah, Minerva," said Dippet in his cracked and trembling voice. "I´m glad you could join us. Please, sit down." He pointed to the only unoccupied seat in the room. As luck (or not) would have it, that happened to be a spot on the sofa with Tom and Charlotte. Minerva sat in it, as near to the sofa arm and as far away from Tom as she could, gathering her robes around her so they wouldn´t brush against his. Despite these measures, she was still close enough to Tom to feel the heat coming from his body. It left a sick, feverish sensation on her skin.

Now Dippet sat down as well, looking dwarfed by the massive Headmaster´s desk.

"You must be wondering why you are here," he said to Minerva. She nodded. "Well, I´m sure the answer will come as no surprise to you, especially considering your - adventure last fall."

Grindelwald, thought Minerva. This has something to do with him.

Dippet confirmed it immediately. "As you know all too well, the dark wizard Grindelwald had sent recruiters here to try to sway some of our students to his cause. After you found them in the tower, the recruitment stopped for a time. Now, though, we have cause to think it may have started again. I have discussed the matter with representatives from the Ministry of Magic," indicating Bella, "and with some of the Hogwarts regents." Here he gestured toward the two strangers in their conservative robes. "We have decided that as they must be meeting covertly, covert measures of our own may be the best way to uncover them."

At this point, Bella spoke up. "Until now, we´ve had a bit of an informal operation going on. The senior professors have been keeping an ear out in classes for any information regarding Grindelwald and his activities, and the Head Boy and Girl have been doing the same in the student areas. We felt this would arouse very little suspicion, since they have every right and reason to be there. But we´ve gotten only rumors - nothing we can use to make arrests - and so we must take our activities to the next level."

"And since we´re lucky enough to have an Animagus at our disposal, so to speak," said Dippet, "we thought you would be the ideal candidate to assist us."

"What is it exactly you want me to do?" asked Minerva, remembering the night she´d gone to the West Tower and hoping this assignment would result in fewer injuries.

"Only listen, my dear," said Dumbledore. Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva thought she saw a flicker of some emotion cross Tom´s face at this, but it was gone before she could identify it. "If you agree, we will arrange for you to spend some time each night in the common rooms of all four Houses in turn, in your Animagus form. People are likely to speak freely in front of you - why would anyone try to conceal their activities from a cat? You will gather whatever information you can and report directly back to Bella, Headmaster Dippet or myself."

"Will you do it?" asked Dippet.

Minerva glanced around the room. Clearly, Dippet, Dumbledore and Bella all expected her to say yes. So did the regents. Charlotte looked curious, and Tom looked - he looked -

He looks eager. Why? Why would he want me to do this?

The thought of doing anything Tom wanted her to do rankled, but she couldn´t disappoint Dumbledore and Bella. And she did genuinely want to help.

"Certainly," she said, and Dippet relaxed for the first time since the meeting had begun.

"Wonderful!" he said. "That´s wonderful news. I´m very glad you agree with us. Now, there´s just one thing - our regents have never seen you transform, and Charlotte and Tom will need to know what you look like as a cat so they can help you get in and out of the common rooms, and so they´ll know when you´re there. Would you mind very much just giving a quick demonstration?"

Oh, lovely. Now I´m completely stuck, thought Minerva unhappily. She still didn´t want Tom to see her Animagus form, but here in front of all these witnesses, she couldn´t argue.

Standing up, she took a step toward the center of the room and changed before she had too much more time to worry about it. Both Regents let out admiring gasps and applauded lightly. At the same time, Charlotte said "Oh!"" in surprise.

Minerva padded around in a circle, showing them that she really was a cat, carefully avoiding meeting Tom´s eyes for fear of what she would see there. Finally, though, she could bear it no more. She looked.

He was smiling.