Post by Katheyrn Mae Wilson MD♥ on Jan 22, 2009 15:04:54 GMT -5
Summary: Told from her sister's eyes, this tells of Myrtle McGonagall's struggle for acceptance, friendship and love while trying to prove that even evil has it's good sides.
Pairings: Tom Riddle/Myrtle McGonagall - Student!Minerva/Albus - later Minerva/Albus
Disclaimer: I don’t own the Harry Potter series … it all belongs to JK Rowling. If I did, Dumbledore wouldn’t be dead, neither would Fred, Remus, Tonks, Dobby, Sirius, Hedwig, … well you get the idea.
*Does not comply with DH, Dumbledore’s death or time lines*
Prologue
All was quiet, only a few lone shouts were heard from the grounds, the end of the school year drawing to a close. The halls were quiet and the ghosts were the only form of life to be seen. It was the summer of 1997 and everything the wizarding world knew was about to change – forever.
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley all stood nearby the gates, calling their farewells to the departing students. Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood bade their good-byes before catching the last carriage to the train. Ginny’s waving hand fell as the carriage turned down the winding path, disappearing from view, “So – why again are we staying here for the summer? Well, I know why Harry’s staying here. But why are we staying too?” Hermione opened her mouth, bit back an angry retort, and responded with a shrug.
Ron nudged Harry in the ribs, “Let’s go, Fred and George opened their Hogsmead branch last week. There’s loads of sales and stuff…” But Harry shook his head, his footsteps leading him in the direction of the place he had begun to call home since he was eleven years old. Hermione and Ginny followed, Ron cast a longing glace towards the road that led towards Hogsmead, before following them. At the gates, Harry ignored Ron’s suggestion about paying Hagrid a visit; although Harry didn’t think Hagrid would be all too pleased to tell of the mysterious events surrounding his expulsion from Hogwarts.
Instead, Harry led Ron, Ginny and Hermione along a deserted first-floor corridor. Hermione and Ron were casting nervous glances around as Harry paused in front of an oak door. Knocking, he pushed open the door, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all following reluctantly as they exchanged confused glances with each other.
The tiny office was empty, except for the four newcomers inside it. Hermione conjured three wooden-backed chairs as Harry took a seat in the one opposite the fireplace. Ginny and Hermione sank willingly into the chairs, but Ron looked around nervously, examining the crammed bookshelves, piles of parchment on the desk and a second door, which seemed to be locked. He faced Harry, “Why exactly are we doing in Professor McGonagall’s office? You didn’t get summer detention did you?”
“‘Summer detention’?” a voice repeated, “I’ll have to think about that one.” Minerva McGonagall shook her head, “No, Mr. Potter doesn’t have summer detention, we don’t even have that here – yet. He is continuing his lessons with Professor Dumbledore this summer, and evidently, he has a question for me.” She took a seat behind her desk, placing a stack of parchment on the floor.
“Well, Professor,” Harry began. “I was wondering if you knew anything about how Moaning Myrtle died. You know?” Minerva frowned, “Why do you need to know? Besides, she’s been dead for over fifty years, how could that help you now? Or did Professor Dumbledore put you up to this?” Harry shrugged, “No he didn’t. But didn’t Voldemort –” Ron, Ginny and Minerva all flinched, “– go to school around the same time as her. I mean, he killed her, right?”
“I suppose so,” Minerva leaned back in her chair, “but You-Know-Who doesn’t keep track of who he kills. He just does it.”
“But why Myrtle?” Harry asked, “Why her? She hadn’t done a thing to hurt him!”
“Prove it,” Minerva cut across Harry, her eyes narrowed.
“Myrtle’s dead, no one can prove a thing!” Harry cried, jumping up.
“That’s not true Harry, you can just go ask Myrtle yourself.” Hermione whispered quietly.
“Yeah, sure,” Harry snorted, “she’s really going to tell us what she did wrong. That is if she even did anything wrong.” He faced Hermione, eyes blazing.
“She might not,” Minerva interjected, “but her sister might.” Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, they all responded with nonchalant shrugs. He turned to Minerva, “I highly doubt that Myrtle’s sister is going to talk about her sister’s death.” She shrugged, “Well, Myrtle’s sister knows the real reasoning behind her death. And the name, Olive Hornby doesn’t come up at all.” Ron looked confused, “Well, who does?”
“Hello,” Albus Dumbledore entered the room, “I was hoping to bother my deputy for a moment. I can wait for you four,” he leaned against the bookshelf, “continue.” Harry turned, “Well, please answer Ron’s question Professor.”
Minerva McGonagall suddenly looked uncomfortable, “Well, I don’t see why you have to know.” Albus looked up, “Who wants to know what?” Minerva smiled sadly at him, “Harry wants to know the reasoning behind Myrtle’s death.” Understanding and sadness replaced the confusion in Albus’ eyes and he nodded,
“Oh, Myrtle,” he paused, lowering his voice, “Myrtle McGonagall?” He placed a hand on Minerva’s shoulder, “It’s okay Mina, you don’t have to tell them anything if you don’t want too. You know that,” he brushed his lips against hers, “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
“No, Albus,” Minerva’s voice shook a bit, “please stay here. I want you to be here.” She looked up at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, “I’ll tell you. And yes, to answer the question you probably are all too nervous to ask, yes, Albus and I are married.” Harry nodded, “Please tell.” Albus sat on the arm of Minerva’s chair, tracing patterns across her back as she began.
