Minerva's Song

The mood at Hogwarts remained subdued for some time, as did the mood of the wizarding world in general. Some of the students had the Daily Prophet delivered, and they reported that the pages were full of speculation over the murders, and very little else. Despite all the talk about it, no-one seemed close to finding the perpetrator. Security at Hogwarts was stepped up.

Of course, all of this worried Minerva, but for practical purposes her life went on as usual. She continued to excel at all of her subjects, particularly Transfiguration. She was content in her little circle of friends. All was well in her small sphere.

Kosey was getting much bigger now. One November evening, Minerva had finished her homework and was sitting cross-legged on the hearth rug in the Gryffindor Common Room, letting the kitten pounce on her fingers repeatedly. He never seemed to get tired of it.

'You know, if you ever have to hunt for your food, it won't just sit there and let itself be pounced on,' she remarked idly to the kitten, 'it will want to escape, like this...'

As he pounced, she drew her hand quickly away. Kosey landed on nothing, looked around for a moment with a confused expression, and then comprehension dawned. He gave Minerva a hurt look, and to apologise for her betrayal she picked him up and hugged him to her chest, making soft cat noises at him. He meowed loudly back.

'Can't you make that cat be quiet?' asked Gail Turberry, another first year girl, from one of the chairs.

'I'm sorry, Gail, I didn't realise we were disturbing you,' said Minerva, 'but Kosey was just having fun.'

'Well, some of us are busy, and could do without the distraction,' said Gail.

'You're reading a fashion magazine,' Minerva pointed out.

Gail just glared at her in reply and carried on reading. Minerva felt a little uncomfortable staying where she was, so she went over to sit with Alison, Tully and Bevan on the other side of the room.

Later that evening, as the first-years were drifting to bed, Gail whispered something to her friend, Lucy Marley, then the two of them looked at Minerva and burst out laughing. Confused, Minerva looked enquiringly at them, but they just turned away, still smiling, and carried on getting ready for bed. Minerva was utterly in the dark as to what they might have been talking about. Were they making fun of her? Why would they do that?

She shook her head, deciding not to worry about it. Other children confused her sometimes; occasionally their behaviour surprised her, or she wasn't sure what they meant when they said things. She wasn't used to being around so many of them. Maybe this was just another thing that she would have to get used to.

However, in Transfiguration the next day, Minerva was forced to conclude that there was more going on than simply her inexperience with people her own age. Gail and Lucy sat behind Minerva and Jamaica, and when Minerva, as usual, managed her spell easily at the first try, she heard a snigger behind her, and a whisper that sounded suspiciously like "show-off".

She ignored it, and concentrated on helping Jamaica with her spell, but a little later she heard:

'...that stupid cat of hers, with the one white ear, I can't stand the creature...'

She almost turned around to demand to know why they were saying things about Kosey, but something stopped her. Was it fear? Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. No, she just didn't want to make trouble unnecessarily.

The rest of the lesson went without incident, and as she and Jamaica headed down to the Great Hall for lunch, Minerva said:

'Jamaica? Do you think I'm a show-off?'

'Min, of course not!'

Minerva smiled with relief.

'You mustn't let Gail and Lucy bother you,' Jamaica continued, 'I know they've been telling people nasty things about you, but really, they're just jealous that you're cleverer than them.'

Minerva nodded and smiled, but she was disturbed to find that Gail and Lucy had already been saying things about her, and she hadn't even noticed until last night. It made her wonder what other things people might be saying about her without her knowledge. Suddenly, Hogwarts didn't feel like such a safe place any more.

The next morning brought a worry of a different nature. Minerva wasn't aware of it at first - she sat quietly at breakfast, listening to the others talk, and soon she noticed that the volume of conversation in the Great Hall was higher than was customary so early in the morning. Looking around, she saw that the few copies of the Daily Prophet belonging to students were being passed around quickly, with much exclamation.

'Min, over here,' said Cerrig, beckoning her further down the table to where he, Persis, Toby and Bedevere were bending over Bedevere's copy of the paper.

She looked over Cerrig's shoulder to see the headline:

"Muggle to blame for Ministry attacks?"

Confused, she leaned in closer to read the paragraph beneath the words:

"A spokesman for the Ministry of Magic today announced that, following the lack of success in the search for the murderer of the Minister for Magic, Sholto Pevensie, his wife, Desiderata Pevensie, and a Ministry employee, Jeremy Sherwin, the investigation team were widening their search to include Muggles.

'There have been cases of Muggles discovering the Wizarding World,' said Domnall McGonagall, Public Liaison. 'And we must not ignore the fact that these killings were unusually Muggle-like. We have not yet exhausted our leads in the magical community; however it seems prudent to cast our net a little wider in this case.'

Minerva stopped reading then. The rest of the article was made up of opinion from various experts and wizards-on-the-street.

'Minerva, is that your father?' asked Persis.

'You didn't tell us he was on this case!' said Toby. 'Do you know anything about it? Has your father told you anything?'

Minerva shook her head.

'But, do you really think it might have been a Muggle who did it?' Bedevere asked.

Minerva shrugged, dismayed that everyone was looking at her, expecting her to tell them something. She was rescued when Helena, Alison and Mildred came to see what the fuss was about.

'But, how could a Muggle kill a wizard?' Alison asked. 'I mean, surely an ordinary stab wound wouldn't be enough to finish off the Minister for Magic?'

'How do you know?' asked Toby.

'Well, it's obvious, isn't it?' Mildred said. 'I mean, everyone knows that Magical folk are much more difficult to injure than Muggles. Even if the Minister was stabbed, surely it wouldn't kill him outright?'

'But why wouldn't they just use a curse or something?' asked Alison.

Their speculation was cut short then, as the bell rang for their first lesson, which was Transfiguration.

'Did you hear what people have been saying?' Jamaica whispered to Minerva as they tried to Transfigure a piece of string into a ribbon.

'What have people been saying?' asked Minerva, watching with satisfaction as her string turned a deep red and began to flatten out.

'About a Muggle killing Minister Pevensie.'

'Yes, I heard. Do people really believe it?'

'Well, some folk at the Slytherin table seem to think it's possible. But most people think that it's more likely to be a Muggle-born Wizard than a Muggle.'

'Well,' Minerva tipped her head to one side, considering, 'that might explain why they chose a Muggle method, but were able to kill a Wizard...'

'Yes, I suppose so.' Jamaica tipped her head thoughtfully to one side. 'Anyway, will you please show me this again? I really don't think I have the knack of it yet...'

Autumn turned into winter, and still there were no firm leads on the murderer. But something was happening at Hogwarts. One morning the Gryffindor first-years were sitting all together at the breakfast table, when Helena arrived, late as usual.

'Morning!' she said, smiling at everyone and taking the available seat next to Gail. Gail didn't smile back, and after a moment she got up, taking her breakfast with her, and moved further down the table. Lucy followed.

'What was that about?' asked Mildred, as Helena gazed after the two girls.

Helena shrugged, confused. But that was only the beginning. Over the next few weeks, Gail and Lucy continued to avoid Helena, and so did some of the other students from wizarding families. A distinct divide was beginning to develop between the Muggle-born students and the others. Every week there was some new story in the Prophet about dangerous Muggles, or an article about how the bloodlines were being contaminated by people who should never have learned about the wizarding world at all.

'I don't understand,' Minerva said to Helena as they sat in the Common Room doing their History of Magic homework one cold evening, 'why should it matter if people are Muggle-born or not?'

'Well, they say the murderer is Muggle-born, don't they?' Helena said bitterly, stabbing her quill into her parchment.

'But why should that matter? It doesn't mean every Muggle-born is a murderer! And they still don't even know who did it!'

'People are people,' Helena shrugged, 'and what's the Sword of Tenir?'

'Hmm?'

'Question seven.'

'Oh... it's a myth, I think. My father told it to me once. Tenir Malfoi was an ancient wizard and he created a sword that would kill each time it was used, no matter whether the wound was large or small.'

Helena's eyes widened.

'Well then, why couldn't it be that that the murderer is using? Maybe you should write to your father and tell him!'

'I don't think so,' said Minerva, 'the sword is just a myth, and anyway the end of the story said that Tenir caused such devastation with the sword that Helga Hufflepuff cursed it so that no man could wield it.'

'Ooh... well, maybe that isn't it then, but it's a good story.'

Minerva smiled and turned to her own homework. She had not long finished it when Gail and Lucy entered, with their usual glare at Helena and Minerva. There were only a few seats left, so they were forced to sit close to the two girls, and soon Minerva felt so intimidated that she left for bed, Helena close behind.

'I don't understand why everyone can't just like one another,' Minerva said as she changed into her nightdress.

She got into bed, settled Kosey at the foot and lay down, but she didn't sleep for a long time.

The Christmas holidays were fast approaching now. The first snow fell on Hogwarts, and it made Minerva laugh to see Jamaica so excited about it. Minerva's village was covered in snow for most of the winter, but for Jamaica it was still a novelty.

One Saturday lunchtime, Jamaica flew into the Great Hall, shaking snow from her hair, and ran to where Minerva sat quietly eating a sandwich and rereading her animagi book.

'Min, Min, look, I just got a letter!' she cried, settling on the bench and waving the letter in front of Minerva's face too fast for her to even see.

'And what does it say?' asked Minerva, carefully marking her place before turning her full attention to her friend.

'It says my parents want to invite you to ours for Christmas! Please say you'll come, please Min! We'll have so much fun!'

'Really? I'd love to!'

'Will you write to your parents and ask this very minute?'

Jamaica was so excited that she was hopping up and down. Minerva dashed off a note to her mother and the two of them ran to the Owlery to send it, then went to join the snowball fights outside. Minerva's mother wrote back almost immediately, granting her permission and suggesting that Minerva invite Jamaica back for Hogmanay. There followed another frantic exchange of letters, and the whole thing was settled by that evening. Minerva would go home with Jamaica and stay until Boxing Day, when she and Jamaica would travel up to Scotland to spend the rest of the holiday with the McGonagalls.

During the day it all seemed like such an exciting prospect, but lying in bed that night Minerva found that her mind was racing, and she was full of uncertainty. She had never stayed at someone else's home before, and she had certainly never been away for Christmas. She tossed and turned for hours, and when she finally slept she dreamed that Jamaica's mother turned into a dragon and chased her around Diagon Alley.

Every morning that week Jamaica greeted her with more excitement, and Minerva always smiled and tried to seem excited too, but the churning feeling in her belly only got worse, and by the time they boarded the Hogwarts Express to go home, her heart was hammering madly, and she didn't feel equal to joining in with the game of Exploding Snap that Jamaica, Helena, Rommie and Karen were playing. She watched quietly, and nobody seemed to notice that anything was amiss with her.

They got off the train in a big crowd, everyone hugging and calling goodbye to their friends before rushing to greet their parents.

'Have a good holiday, Min bach!' Cerrig called as he was swallowed up in the throng.

Minerva and Jamaica held hands tightly for fear of being separated as they said goodbye, in quick succession, to Helena, Rommie, Karen, Emmy, Mildred, Tully, Alison and Bevan. They didn't say goodbye to Gail and Lucy, but they were glad to see them leave all the same.

When the crowd at last thinned out a little, Jamaica gave a cry of delight and, still holding Minerva's hand, ran down the platform to greet her family.

Whatever worries Minerva had had about Jamaica's family were dispelled within moments. Jamaica's mother was short, and cheerful, and she hugged Minerva warmly as well as Jamaica. Jamaica's father shook her hand and said he was pleased to meet her, and then brought out chocolate for the two girls and took their trunks for them, smiling all the while. The four little brothers were fascinated by Minerva and wanted to ask her so many questions that she felt almost dizzy.

After all the greetings, they all caught the bus to Jamaica's home in Streatham. Her house was as wonderful as her family. It was a good deal messier than the McGonagall home, but it was bright and warm and there were paintings all over the walls, done the Muggle way - Jamaica's mother was an artist.

Jamaica had her own room, and there was a little camp bed made up there for Minerva. There were pictures of film stars pinned up all over the walls, so many that Minerva couldn't even see what colour the wallpaper was. Also, Jamaica had her own record player, and a big stack of records. The two of them played them in the evenings, sitting on Jamaica's bed. During the day they helped Jamaica's mother around the house, or sometimes they covered the big kitchen table with newspaper and painted pictures. A few times, when the weather was milder, they played football in the back garden with Jamaica's brothers. Terry and Alex were very good, Isaac tried hard, and Jules was really too small to kick a ball properly. Jamaica was good too, but Minerva wasn't, so if Terry, Isaac and Minerva played against Alex, Jules and Jamaica, they were fairly evenly matched. Minerva wrote long letters to Jessel and her mother every evening, and before she knew it it was Christmas Eve and Jamaica's mother was telling them goodnight and turning off the light.

'You know, I don't think I'll ever get to sleep!' said Jamaica. 'I'm far too excited! Aren't you, Min?'

'Oh, I don't know,' said Minerva, 'perhaps it will take us longer than usual because of being so excited, but I expect we'll be fast asleep before too long. After all, we've been very busy today, and I don't know about you, but I'm most definitely tired.'

Jamaica snored loudly. Minerva chuckled and rolled over, and was soon asleep too.

Minerva awoke to the sound of Jules banging the drum which he had evidently got for Christmas and shouting unintelligibly outside their door. She and Jamaica grinned at one another and ran downstairs, still in their nightdresses. The space under the tree was piled with presents.

'I always get heaps for Christmas!' Jamaica said happily. 'I have so many relatives!'

Minerva just had her parents and Jessel, but that was enough for her, especially since her presents from them were under the tree too.

'Look, my mother sent you one!' Minerva said, passing Jamaica the parcel.

The two of them opened their presents, and even though Jamaica had many more, she finished before Minerva. She tore the paper off each present as if there was a time limit, and barely glanced at each gift before moving on to the next. Minerva only got six - one from her parents, another from Jessel, one from Jamaica's parents, one from Jamaica, one from Helena and one from Cerrig. This one was small, and she opened it last.

'A spoon?' said Jamaica incredulously.

'It does seem an odd sort of gift,' Minerva agreed, 'but it is rather pretty.'

The spoon was made of wood, and carved intricately with strange symbols. Minerva made up her mind to ask Cerrig about it when she got back to school. In the meantime, there was Christmas to be enjoyed, and enjoy it they did. All day there were games and charades and treasure hunts, and Jamaica's father told them Christmas stories. There were all kinds of sweets and good things to eat, but they tried to save their appetites for the enormous Christmas dinner. In the evening they sang carols - Minerva didn't know many but they were easy to learn. By the time she and Jamaica fell into bed it was almost midnight, and Minerva felt as though she had never had a more exciting day in her life.

The next afternoon, Jamaica's father took them by Portkey to the McGonagall house, where Minerva's mother was waiting to meet them at the door. Jessel was there too, and she gave a squeal of delight when she saw Minerva and jumped into her arms, hugging her tightly. Minerva's mother gave Jamaica a hug of welcome, and the three girls ran up to the bedroom to play while Minerva's mother and Jamaica's father talked in the kitchen.

'I can't believe you're back! Did you like Christmas? Did you bring me anything from London? Oh, look how big Kosey has got!' Jessel cried.

'I adore your room! And your house is so lovely! And your mother is so pretty! You didn't tell me you lived in the middle of nowhere!' exclaimed Jamaica at the same time.

Minerva just smiled at both of them.

The next few days passed as cheerfully as the days in London had. Jamaica and Jessel got on famously, and they were often happy to do nothing but run about shouting in the deep snow, while Minerva watched with a smile. Minerva ran about too, sometimes, but the combined energy of Jessel and Jamaica was too much for her to keep up with. The evenings were spent in front of the fire, often wrapped in blankets. Minerva and Jamaica did their holiday homework, and Jessel played with Kosey. Minerva's father was rarely at home - he was still very busy, but he refused to talk about the progress of the investigation, and since they didn't take the Daily Prophet, the girls had no idea whether the murders were any closer to being solved. When Domnall McGonagall was home, though, he was perfectly friendly, if a little distracted, which was more than Minerva had hoped for.

In no time at all, Hogmanay was upon them. Domnall spent a rare full day at home and the girls helped him to build the bonfire in the garden. Sarah was in the kitchen all day preparing a feast, and as evening fell they all dressed in their best clothes - Domnall in his kilt, Minerva, Jessel and Sarah in their long skirts and shawls, and Jamaica in her party frock - and went into the living room, which was decorated beautifully with streamers and flags. Domnall got out his accordion and began to play, and Minerva, Jessel and Sarah taught Jamaica the dances they did every year, with whirling and clapping and excited shouts from Jessel. Then, after a while, Minerva fetched her violin and played a fast, lively melody, and Domnall and Sarah danced, while Jessel and Jamaica clapped along. Then they went outside to dance around the bonfire, which Domnall lit with a spell. When they were too tired to dance any more, he gave them each sticks, lit the ends and charmed them so that they could draw on the sky in fire. They drew beautiful pictures and patterns until it was midnight, then they all sang Auld Lang Syne at the tops of their voices, and everybody hugged and kissed everybody else.

Jessel was so sleepy that Domnall had to carry her to bed, and Minerva and Jamaica followed not long after.

'That was wonderful!' Jamaica said sleepily as she crawled under the covers. 'You have the best family ever, Min.'

As Minerva fell asleep, she thought perhaps she did.