The Prime Minister's Daughter

Chapter 2 - Leaving No. 10

"Preposterous."

May drifted slowly back into consciousness. Downstairs, voices were talking very softly.

"Just consider it for a moment."

"No, Minister."

May slowly opened her eyes, expecting the daylight to stream in through her window, but it was dark. It must be the middle of the night. What are they on about? She rolled onto the side, pressing her ear closer to the pillow. Ever since the day Jessica and Angela had started meeting in the kitchen for little, secret talks about boys, and had shut out May deliberately, she was able to hear every sound down there if she wanted to. She had never understood why; she had never asked herself either, all questions washed away by the delight of having so much information to blackmail her sisters with. She could guess now, of course.

"But, Mr. Stewart..."

"Minister, I said no. If you need an even clearer response than that, there is no way in hell that is ever going to happen. Not in my house."

May frowned. Dad did have meetings at night with his Ministers from time to time, but rarely were they in the house; and rarely had she heard her father sound so exasperated. She winced, hoping that there was no major crisis in the country going on, because that always made him morph from an already cross man to an outright monster. And besides, as much as she hated to admit it, she was beginning to be influenced by him. She actually started worrying about the people. Blergh. That must be what growing up felt like.

"Mr. Stewart, it's all inside of her. It will come out sooner or later anyway. Best she learns to control it now."

May stared at her old teddy bear, sitting on the shelf in front of her bed, who stared back. Who was this guy? And what were they talking about? Was it possible...

"Mr. Fudge." Her father's voice had begun to quaver, yet she was sure only she could hear that. "With all due respect for your kind and so on. My daughter does not belong to you. She is not a... a..."

"Witch?" the other one offered quietly, and May heard her father gasp at the same time as she did. So they were talking about her! That man called Fudge must be one of them, a wizard! Excitedly, she sat up, but instantly threw herself back on the bed and put her head back onto her pillow so as not to miss a single word.

Please, Daddy, let me go... come on now...

"I cannot afford it. Not in my position." Yes! He had begun to justify himself. Always a good sign. Yawn on the phrase though. Heard that one too often.

"I understand that." Oh, God, he really understood it. Was she wishing to tumble from one nightmare into the other? But, oh well, if that Minister guy was really as boring as her father, she supposed she could still abracadabra him away or something.

As soon as her father would actually let her go of course!!

"Look, Mr. Stewart, there's really nothing we can do about this. May's name has been on the Hogwarts rolls ever since her birth. She has some potential, it seems." May could almost feel the shudder run down her Dad's spine at those words. "If you deprive her of a magical education, she might try and figure it all out by herself." Oh you bet your oily voice that I will. "Please, Mr. Stewart. Let her go. She's not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts grounds until she's 16." Really?!DAMN! "She'll learn to handle her magic responsibly."

Her father snorted, and she couldn't blame him. Responsibly. Who did that oily guy think he was, some holy apostle? Oh well. It did sound like he was slowly convincing Dad. And that was the most important thing!

"But if anyone finds out..." She could hardly make out the whispered words, and gritted her teeth. To hell with your reputation, Dad... I'll figure it all out by myself if I have to (even if I have no bloody clue how to) and believe me, I'll be giving you a hard time...

As though he had heard her mental tirade, he sighed. "Alright. I'll let her go to this... Hogwarts... thing."

YEAH!!

"But if she ever behaves conspicuously around here, or gets herself in the paper for I-don't-know-what-you-people-are-up-to..." He was trying to sound aggressive, but his voice had a weary, resigned edge to it. She didn't care. She was going!

"I'll be sure to talk to your daughter personally." Oh, no. "Everything will be alright." Chairs were moved, they were obviously standing up. "Thank you, Mr. Stewart." Her Dad only grunted in reply. May was biting her pillow hard so as not to scream in delight.

***

She would have known that something was different anyway. Even if she hadn't listened in last night, she would have remarked her Dad's more-than-usual stiff attitude the next morning, her Mum's wary look, the for once not snapped demand that she quit whatever mischief she had been plotting and come down to breakfast.

However, May thought as she slid down the banisters, her senses where probably somewhat heightened now that she knew. She could see Mum's furtive look at her, the quick turn back to the stove, Dad's similar glances over his newspaper every now and then, Jessica's and Angela's open stares that differed slightly from the usual superior (or, in case she had been playing a prank on them, which was 80% of the time) sulky look they gave their little sister. May sniggered to herself. So the ladies had been informed. Yet she hadn't heard any squealing this morning??

She settled down on her chair, silently for once, and waited for Mum to bring the bacon and eggs. Did she just imagine it or did she get more than usual? Oh, yeah, I could always magic Mum's hair into another colour... although she wasn't sure at all what she could do, she was sure that her Mum and her sisters had a very lively imagination concerning that. She suppressed another broad grin, looking at each one of them closely. They were all avoiding to look at her. Fine, if they wanted to play the game, she could be silent. Torture them even more, mwahaha.

Mr. Stewart cleared his throat, breaking the silence. May was slightly disappointed, since she had silently been putting bets on who would be the first with a nervous breakdown; but then again, she knew from experience that this announced A Declaration. Something she usually loathed, of course. But this time...!!

"May." Her father fixed her in what he probably thought was a stern attitude. She looked at him innocently, shoving bacon and eggs into her mouth, afraid that she might not be able to eat as soon as she was lying on the floor screaming with laughter. Very reasonable argumentation, she found. "Yes, Dad?" She hadn't been able to resist the temptation to speak with her mouth full of food. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mum flinch, but kept her look fixed on her father.

He looked down on the table for a moment, at his untouched plate, then back up at her. "I have decided that it would be best for all parties if you... went to that, that school in September."

May didn't have to act a lot - she just put all the suppressed joy and hilarity she had felt for a few hours (for, naturally, she hadn't slept for a single minute) into her eyes, making them bulge out with fake surprise. "Really??" She grinned broadly, finally having an official reason to. Angela and Jessica exchanged a short glance. May's grin grew wider. "Why?" she couldn't refrain from asking.

Her father's eyes narrowed. It was clear that this was costing him quite a lot of self control. "Because, well, that way you'll learn how to, er. Control it." He tried taking a sip of his coffee and coughed, then stared at her again. "I want the following to be very clear, young lady. I will not allow any of that rubbish inside my house or anywhere in public where it could be seen. You will do... these things... only inside of the school. At any rate you're not allowed to use them here anyway, that would mean instant expulsion." May could see a nasty grin spread itself over Jessica's face. Oh, you'd just love to see me expelled, wouldn't you, you old cow? However, she couldn't help feeling a bit uncomfortable - her sisters were sure to give her a hard time during holidays. But she was not going to let anything come between her and... what was it called? Hogwarts.

She looked her Dad firmly in the eye. "I promise, Dad." Her mother looked at her closely. She had never been able to wring the word out of May, not with its honest meaning behind it, yet she seemed to sense that May was serious about this. What an odd feeling indeed, being serious about something.

***

"Stop fidgeting, May." Mildred Stewart buttoned up her daughter's jacket, stepped back and eyed her from head to toe. May rolled her eyes when she made that all-too familiar tutting noise and started at her again, tugging at her sleeves and collar until everything seemed quite perfect.

Correction: Until May looked like an old flounder! Gaahh! "Mum, let go", she whined, trying not to sound too aggressive. Mum seemed to pick up on even the slightest indication of a rebellious tone these days, and the punishments were usually quite tedious. Cleaning up her closet, for instance. Or vacuuming under the bed. May thought that Mum probably wanted to enjoy her reign of terror as long as possible before she left.

Which was today.

YAY.

Her Mum, ignoring the complaint, smoothed May's hair until it looked like someone had just emptied a bucket of water over her head, and stepped back again. May groaned inwardly and tried to keep a straight face. She didn't know why, but it would feel weird leaving while Mum was cross with her, so during the last week she had been trying the best humanly possible to not become annoyed, and above all, to not annoy Mum. Well, that was easy. Just stand still like some ridiculous Barbie doll and let her fix you up until you look like a pathetic old-

"Want you to look quite neat, don't we?" Her Mum muttered distractly, staring at May's hair. May calmly breathed in and out. Frankly, she didn't see the point of making her look 'neat'; well she never had, but especially couldn't in this case. She was going to that wizarding place, who would care what she looked like? They would probably be riding on brooms and all wear pointy hats!

"Now, that Minister is sending someone to pick you up today." Mum grabbed her arms, fixing her sternly, and May suppressed another groan. "I know, Mum." She did, indeed. Her mother had explained the day's proceedings about twenty times to her this morning - and that wasn't counting all of last week. She couldn't help getting the slight suspicion that Mum wasn't directing these words at her, but at herself, so as to find a bit of reassurance. "The person the Minister sends will get you to that place where you pick up your books and..." Until this part, it was always easy. Mum had "the Minister" and schoolbooks to refer to, things that belonged in her normal world. Then, however... "andyour, your other things."

May pressed her teeth together tightly. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don'tlaugh... "Yes, Mum."

"Now, I want you to behave quite reasonably and..." Course, this part wasn't funny anymore. The lecture always droned on for at least five minutes. While Mum went over all the details again, how she was going to sleep in that Ministry building tonight and let that person bring her to the train tomorrow because they, her parents, couldn't possibly risk showing up there, famous that they were, blah blah blah, May concentrated on breathing and let her mind wander off to the place she would be going to - well, the imagination she had of it. With an occasional "yes, Mum", she was quite fine.

The doorbell. Finally! Suddenly not caring about anything anymore, she wriggled free and, ignoring the exasperated sigh behind her, pounded down the staircase. She met her father in the hallway, whose hesitant drag to the door -something she had never seen on him before- indicated that it might be the portal to hell. May darted past him and pulled the door open.

Bloody hell.

This was a WITCH?!

***