Minerva's Song

Chapter One.

It had been almost a week. Minerva had sat by the library window every day, watching and waiting. She sighed deeply.

She was a rather thin girl, a few months shy of twelve, with a serious look in her dark eyes and long, black hair tied up with a ribbon. She had been sitting very still all afternoon, gazing out of the window. It was raining, although it was summer. She hoped that the owls wouldn't mind. Did they still send owls when it was raining? She didn't know.

The stillness of the room seemed to evaporate as the door flew open and Jessel ran into the room, skipped the few steps to the window and jumped onto Minerva's lap, settling in with a contended laugh.

Jessel McGonagall was the very opposite of her sister - where Minerva was still and quiet, Jessel was lively and vivacious. Her rosy complexion and blond curls were a stark contrast to Minerva's paleness. She had just turned eight that month.

'Min, you aren't still watching for owls, are you?' she asked incredulously. 'They come and find you anyway, you know.'

'I know. I want to look out anyway.'

'But why? What difference does it make? You already know what it's going to be.'

'I still want to see the letter, just to be sure,' Minerva explained.

'Well, you'll see it when the owl arrives. Until then, wouldn't you rather come and play with me instead of sitting here on your own?'

Minerva didn't mind sitting alone, in fact she rather enjoyed it, but she always found it difficult to refuse Jessel anything.

'Well, alright, just for a little while.'

Minerva let herself be led out of the library; half-listening to Jessel's uninterrupted flow of chatter.

It was some time later. Jessel was tired of playing catch and wanted to play another game.

'Let's play at Hogwarts!' she suggested, jumping up and down. 'I'll be the headmistress and you can be a first year, like you're going to be.'

'Hogwarts has a headmaster, not a headmistress,' Minerva pointed out feebly as Jessel began to arrange the contents on their room to her liking.

'Now, this is my desk, and I have a big quill, and you come and stand in front of my desk, just here, because you're going to be Sorted. I have a big magic sword, and I start to chant a magical...'

'Jessel, nobody knows how you get Sorted into your Houses. It's a big secret.'

'So, if nobody knows, why shouldn't I make it up?'

Minerva was at a loss, so it was fortunate that, at that moment, their mother called up the stairs.

'Min! There's an owl!'

Minerva didn't usually run - and certainly not down stairs, which was dangerous - but she did now, her feet only landing on every other stair, in her haste to reach the kitchen. When she got there, her mother was holding out the letter, and the owl was eating some seed. Sure enough, the letter bore the Hogwarts crest. Minerva tore it open and scanned the contents.

'I'm going to Hogwarts,' she said, with a widening smile. 'I'm really, really going to Hogwarts!'

Sarah McGonagall hugged her daughter tightly for a moment, as Minerva read out the letter. Jessel had followed Minerva downstairs and was peering over her sister's shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

'Father will be glad, won't he?' Minerva asked her mother, anxiously.

'I'm sure he will,' Sarah replied, 'why don't you tell him when he gets home from work?'

'I will,' said Minerva.

'Alright then, you girls go and play now. I have a lot of work to do.' Sarah turned back to her baking.

Minerva watched her mother rolling the pastry out for a moment, then followed Jessel back up the stairs and into their room. She thought it was a little unfair that her mother couldn't use any charms or spells to help with her cooking. Minerva often wondered how her parents had ever met. Her mother had been a typist back then - very beautiful, with hair the colour of honey and so slim that she looked as if the wind would pick her up and carry her away - but still just a young Muggle working in a typing pool. And her father had been an up-and-coming young wizard in the Ministry of Magic. How did two people from such different worlds even meet, let alone fall in love and get married?

'Min, you're not playing properly,' Jessel complained.

'Sorry, Jess, I was thinking,' she said, turning her attention back to the game.

At three minutes to five that evening, Minerva was sitting at the kitchen table, watching the clock. Her father always arrived home at seven minutes past five exactly. Now, she supposed, he would be clearing away his work, ready to finish at precisely 5pm.

Sarah chopped vegetables and Jessel was helping. Minerva usually helped too, but today she didn't have to, as a special treat for getting into Hogwarts.

'Won't it be fun when Min and I can do magic?' Jessel said, filling a pan full of water ready for the carrots that Sarah was chopping. 'Then Mam, you'd never have to do any housework; everything would be nice and easy. Didn't you ever want to learn some magic, Mam?'

'Oh, not really,' said Sarah, 'No way I could learn more than a little bit, anyway. You either have it or you don't. I sometimes think...'

Whatever Sarah sometimes thought would never be known, as Domnall McGonagall chose that moment to apparate into the kitchen. Five minutes early.

'Domnall, what's wrong?' Sarah asked, laying the vegetable knife on the counter and moving swiftly over to him. 'Did something happen at work?'

'I could do with a stiff drink,' was all he said, as he sat heavily on one of the kitchen chairs.

Sarah rushed to prepare one, and Minerva and Jessel watched their father anxiously. His eyebrows were drawn together in a frown that was deeper than the one he habitually wore. He took the glass that Sarah handed him and drank it down in one gulp.

'There was some trouble at the Ministry today,' he finally said.

'What kind of trouble?' asked Jessel.

'Nothing you girls need to worry about,' Domnall said, 'Go to your room, please, both of you.'

Minerva rose from her seat and headed out of the kitchen. After a moment, Jessel followed. As she closed the door behind her, Minerva was turning up the stairs. Jessel grabbed her wrist and motioned to the door.

'We can't listen; that's bad!' Minerva whispered.

'Well, don't you want to know what's going on?' asked Jessel. 'I'm staying; you go if you like.'

Minerva hovered for a moment, torn, but in the end curiosity won out - not to mention the fact that anything Jessel knew, she, as the big sister, should automatically know too. She nodded and the two of them pressed their ears against the door.

'I don't know that I should tell you either, Sarah,' they heard their father say. 'After all, I doubt this will affect anyone outside of the Ministry.'

'Domnall, of course it's up to you, but I wish you would tell me. Did something bad happen?'

'There was a murder.'

'A murder? Who? Do they know who did it?'

'A clerk working in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office was stabbed.'

'Stabbed? Not cursed?'

'Yes, it's most distressing. They discovered the boy several minutes ago, they cleared everyone out early to search for the killer, they think he may still be in the building. I don't understand how a stab-wound could kill a wizard, even a young one...'

Minerva and Jessel looked at one another in horror. Occasionally, if their father was in a very, very good mood, he would tell them stories of wizard battles in the past - they had heard tales of terrible curses used on people, but a stabbing? It was unheard of.

They heard the scrape of the chair as their mother stood up, and bolted up the stairs as quickly as they could manage it, reaching their room just as the kitchen door opened and Sarah called:

'Girls! Wash your hands for tea, please!'

Tea was a sombre affair that night. Even if the girls hadn't listened at the door, they would have known that something was wrong. Their father was even more surly than usual, and said nothing as they ate their vegetables and pushed their meat around their plates. Their mother was quiet too, and the atmosphere was such that even Jessel didn't feel much like talking.

Finally, as Sarah was clearing the plates away, she ventured:

'Minerva got some rather good news today, Domnall.'

'Hmm? What?' He looked at Sarah quizzically.

'Minerva, dear. She got her Hogwarts letter today.'

'Oh.'

'And I'm sure you're very pleased about it,' Sarah prompted.

'Oh, yes. Well done, Minerva,' Domnall said absently, before turning his attention back to a stain on the tablecloth.

'Thanks,' Minerva said, blinking back hot tears that threatened to fall. She looked down too.

After tea, Minerva went into the library, and played the first movement of Winter, from the Four Seasons, on her mother's violin for a long time, until she felt better.

It was a week later. Minerva was reeling from her first ever journey by Portkey, all the way to London! She and Jessel had wanted to look around, but her father had said that they shouldn't hang about, and was taking them straight to Diagon Alley. They approached a building that the Muggles seemed to be ignoring, and Minerva stared as her father pushed open the door and herded them into the room. It was a pub, somewhat smoky and dark, but there was a hum of conversation, and the man at the bar greeted them as they entered.

'Domnall, how goes it?'

'Not bad, not bad at all,' said Minerva's father.

'Going shopping are ye? First year at Hogwarts, I bet.'

Domnall nodded once, but was distracted as another man across the room waved at him.

'Oh, that's Filius Greenwarble,' he said. 'I have some rather urgent business with him. Sarah, why don't you take the girls and I'll catch up with you later.'

Without even waiting for an answer, he left and was far into the dark corners of the pub before Sarah could open her mouth to respond.

'But Mam, he said he would take us around Diagon Alley!' Jessel protested loudly.

Minerva didn't say anything. She had half expected this and had tried to be prepared for it.

'Never mind,' said Sarah briskly, 'I'm sure we'll still find everything we need, won't we, Min? Chin up, girls.'

She took each girl by the hand and marched briskly towards the back door, where the entrance to Diagon Alley was. Minerva felt that she was a little too old to hold her mother's hand, but just once she didn't mind. She squeezed Sarah's hand back and tried to smile.

The first stop was Ollivanders. Minerva had seen her father use his wand sometimes, but she was never allowed to touch it. So it was with some excitement, and not a little trepidation, that she entered the shop and approached the counter, with her mother and Jessel not far behind. How would she know which wand to get? Were they all the same?

Minerva jumped as a man appeared suddenly behind the counter. 'Good afternoon,' he said, 'I see it's another McGonagall, come for her first wand. Try this one.'

He flipped open a narrow box and presented her with a wand. Minerva waved it uncertainly. Nothing happened.

'Hmm, didn't think so,' said the man, 'and this one?'

Minerva waved that one too. Nothing happened. Then another, then another. Was something wrong? Maybe she didn't have any magic in her at all - after all, she had never really tried any. How were you supposed to know? As she tried and rejected wand after wand, she felt her pulse hammering madly. What if they wouldn't let her go to Hogwarts after all? What if they had only let her in because of a mistake?

By this time, Mr Ollivander was taking several wands out at once and laying them down on the counter for Minerva to try. The row seemed to stretch forever - wands upon wands, and none of them were working for her.

Suddenly, she saw it. It was the strangest feeling - there it was, nestled among all the other wands, seeming to look almost smug. She didn't know what had made it jump out at her, from all the other wands. It was a dark red, about nine inches long, and smooth, but not shiny. She picked it up, and she felt a warmth that spread all the way up her arm and through her body until it reached the tips of her toes. She smiled broadly.

'This is it,' she announced.

'Yes, I can see that,' said Mr Ollivander. 'How unusual. Yes, most unusual to see that degree of control in one so young. Nine-and-a-half inches, beech and kelpie hair. How very interesting.'

Minerva's smile did not diminish as he packed the wand up for her and her mother paid for it.

Now that Minerva was no longer nervous about getting a wand, the rest of the shopping seemed a much more exciting prospect, and the three of them began to enjoy themselves in earnest as she was fitted for her robes, chose a cauldron, looked through assortments of fascinating-smelling herbs and hunted the shelves of Flourish and Blotts for the books on her reading list.

'Well, just one thing left to go!' said Sarah brightly as they struggled out of Flourish and Blotts with all of Minerva's bags and boxes.

'But, I thought we had everything?' said Minerva, scanning her list.

'You don't have a cat,' Sarah said with a grin.

'But, I thought Father said...'

'Well, Father isn't here right now, is he? Come on.'

Minerva and Jessel exchanged surprised glances at this uncharacteristic act of rebellion from their mother. Minerva felt like jumping up and down, but she limited herself to just a big smile, as Sarah led them into the pet shop.

'The sign in the window said there were some kittens?' Sarah asked the man behind the counter.

'Aye,' he said, 'only one left, mind.'

He reached under the counter and picked up the kitten, putting it down next to the till. Minerva immediately picked it up and looked seriously into its eyes.

'Course, you can see why it didn't sell,' said the man.

They could. The kitten was coal black all over, except for one snowy-white ear.

'People want a proper black cat, see,' the man said, 'for the look of the thing. Poor mite - all his brothers and sisters sold...'

'I want him,' said Minerva, 'he's beautiful. I don't care if he isn't all black. Doesn't he look intelligent?'

For the moment, the cat looked asleep - he had apparently dozed off in Minerva's arms. Sarah paid the man and they walked back down Diagon Alley.

That night, Minerva tucked the kitten into his little basket before climbing into bed herself.

'This time tomorrow, you'll be there,' said Jessel from her own bed. 'Will you write to me often and tell me what it's like?'

'I'll write every single day!' Minerva promised. 'And it will be hardly any time at all before you're at Hogwarts too.'

'That's nice,' said Jessel. 'Goodnight, Min.'

With that, Jessel fell asleep. But Minerva was still wide awake. How could she possibly sleep? She was going to Hogwarts tomorrow!