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McGonagall’s Office


The only way to quiet Regulus was to send James away. And so, as quickly as she could, Madam Pomfrey had given James a bit of potion and McGonagall had sent him to her office to wait for her. She’d offered him the little couch when she’d sent him off, but he’d sat in his usual chair across from her desk. And so there James sat, staring at the dark mahogany wood of her desk top, his chin in his palm, waiting. A clock on the mantel ticked and he glanced over at it, then turned away, slipping back into his unfocused stare. He took off his glasses and rubbed his face, dizzy from exhaustion and nerves and his shoulders slumped with guilt. Every breath felt like it weighed more than an elephant upon his chest.

There was a knock on the door and James got up and opened it, without putting on his glasses, peering blurrily out into the hall. Lily Evans stood in the corridor with wide eyes. She stared at James in surprise. “Potter! You’re - you’re here!”

James nodded, “I’m here.”

“But Peter said you were at Grimmauld Place.”

“I was, but I’m back already,” James answered, his voice a sad monotone.

Lily looked nervous, “Are you alright, then?”

James shrugged.

“You need to see Madam Pomfrey and be sure, here come along, I’ll see you to the hospital wing,” she held out her hand for his. “Where are your glasses?”

“On McGonagall’s desk…” James stared at her palm for a long moment, then looked up at her, “I’ve already been to see Pomfrey, but thanks.”

Lily asked, “Already been? But haven’t you just floo’d in?”

“No, the floo network’s disconnected from Grimmauld Place now,” James replied. “Kreacher brought Maryrose and I in earlier and… and I ran out and McGonagall’s brought me back.” He closed his eyes in pain at the memory that he had an escape story but Maryrose did not.

“Oh, so - so Maryrose went with you? That’s… that’s good,” Lily said, “I’m glad you weren’t by yourself. And she’s a very clever girl. I’m sure she was really helpful. Is she here, too? Has she gone to see Pomfrey?”

James swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head in response.

“No? No what? She hasn’t been to Pomfrey? I can see her up...”

“No she’s not - she’s not here.”

“Well where is she? Did she go back to the Hufflepuff common room? She should really be examined before she --”

“She isn’t at Hogwarts, Evans!” he said in exasperation, “She isn’t here!” he yelled the last bit and tears blurred his eyes even more and he punched the wall in frustration, then banged his forehead against it. “And it’s my fault.”

Lily stood there awkwardly a moment, watching him as he leaned there, eyes squeezed closed in anguish, and she drew a deep breath and stepped forward, putting a palm on his shoulder. “James… what’s happened?” she asked.

“I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“Well what idiot thing did you do then? Tell me about it.”

“I’ve saved Lucy Minchum.”

“The Minister’s Granddaughter?”

“Yeah. The one he’s got is a fake.”

Lily’s face dropped in shock, “What?” Then, “Bloody hell, so you’ve saved the real one from Grimmauld Place? The Blacks had her this whole time?”

“Yes, and… and something happened at the Ministry --”

“Yes, Gideon Prewett went with Dumbledore this afternoon to go and save Fabian. The first years Defense Against the Dark Arts class was interrupted when Gideon went through a right terror -- Fabian was being tortured, he said…” she stared up at James, then “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

James shook his head - he didn’t care if Evans interrupted. He’d rather not tell his story anyway. It hurt too much to speak it.

“So… where is Maryrose, then?” Lily asked when James didn’t resume his tale.

“Voldemort’s taken her. She morphed herself to look like Lucy Minchum and went to act as a decoy and Moldy must’ve figured it out somehow or - or --” he paused. “Evans, he was going to take Lucy Minchum to the Malfoy house. When we first got there, Kreacher put us in a cupboard and told us to hide and Sirius’s Mother, she came in the room and commanded Kreacher to put luggage down for Malfoy to take. I’ll bet he’s taken Maryrose to the Malfoy house, thinking she’s Lucy Minchum!” He looked up, eyes wide. “Bloody hell.”

Lily blinked in surprise as James turned about and hurried back into the office and grabbed his glasses from the desk, jamming them onto his face. He turned to McGonagall’s hearth and started searching for the vase of floo powder he knew she kept there, but it had gone and she started turning over knick knacks and searching the shelves.

“Evans, help me find the floo powder.”

Lily stepped into the office. James’s face was alight with a sort of mania as he searched and she looked up at him in concern. “Perhaps we ought to tell McGonagall, rather than trying to do this ourselves?” she raised an eyebrow, “She’s hidden it this well, she obviously doesn’t want us finding it. She’ll be angry if she finds out we’ve been through her things.”

“McGonagall’s angry with me already,” James replied.

“For running off to Grimmauld Place?” Lily asked, expecting a yes.

James shook his head, though, “For being an anamorphus.”

“Animagus?” Lily asked. “How does she know about --?”

James said, “Because I was running from Grimmauld Place and I transformed and I got myself tangled in some purses in a department store in London.” He looked at her. It was the most absurd thing in the world when it was said quickly like that. His eyes challenged her not to laugh.

Lily stared at him. “You got tangled, did you?”

“Yes. Looked like a bloody Christmas tree. Consequently, if you need a purse, I reckon there’s two or three on the path to Hogsmeade that’s fallen from my antlers.”

Lily’s lips cracked a smile.

James continued ruffling about, looking for the floo powder. “Evans, we have to save Maryrose.”

The office door opened and he looked up to see Professor McGonagall enter the room, her mouth a hard line. She glanced at him, and then to Lily and she looked a bit surprised. “Miss. Evans, what are you doing here? And Potter, get your hands off that teapot.”

“Yes m’am.” James put the teapot he’d been searching in down.

“And I was actually just coming to - to see you,” Lily stammered a lie out. “James was here and I was talking to him and … well, you’re here now, but I see you’re busy. I’ll come back later with my question. It’s just a homework thing.” She ducked toward the door.

“Very well. Good day, Miss. Evans,” she said and she shooshed Lily out the door. James was sorry to see her go, but really it was jus tas well. He had a feeling she had been about to attempt to go with him if he’d found the floo powder and he certainly wasn’t about to let that happen. He wasn’t going to be responsible for losing Lily Evans, too.

McGonagall then turned the lock and walked over to her desk, where she lowered herself slowly to the chair, her eyes appraising James carefully. “Potter. Sit.” She said, and she waved at the chair he’d been in before Lily had come. James walked over and sat and stared at her. She stared right back for several beats and finally, she said, “And for how long have you been able to transform?”

James momentarily contemplating lying. Saying it wasn’t him at all, saying it was the first time, saying anything but the truth… but he found himself saying, “Dunno, since summer, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you come to me, my boy?” she asked.

James stared at his hands. He shrugged.

McGonagall sighed heavily and the sternness of her face melted away and she was suddenly just Minerva sitting there. She shook her head and said, “I’m very sorry, my boy, if I made you feel uncomfortable last term, about the animagus lessons, in anyway. You should no’ have had to go it alone.” Her voice shook with regret, thick with her accent.

James shook his head, “It wasn’t you, Minnie.”

She steepled her fingers and stared down at the desk a moment, and when she looked back up, it was back to stern McGonagall. “You’ve not registered.”

“No m’am, I haven’t.”

“Well you must,” she turned and opened a drawer.

“I can’t,” James argued.

“And why not?”

“They’ll want to know why, won’t they? They’ll want to know why I’m registering now, why not before? And they’ll want to know why I’ve become an animorphus?”

McGonagall stared at him, holding papers she’d drawn from her desk drawer.

“I became an anamorphus for Remus.”

McGonagall lowered the papers into her drawer.

“To accompany him so he’s not alone when he’s… you know… Moony.” James stared at her. “Minnie, it - it has to stay a secret. Please. Remus would be ruined.”

“The Ministry doesn’t need to know about Remus in order for you to register, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said.

“Minnie…” James’s voice was heavy with pleading.

Her mouth remained very still, very solidly a straight line and finally she asked, “And how is it that you ended up at that department store?”

“Running from Death Eaters,” James replied. “Saving Lucy Minchum.”

McGonagall stared at him, waiting for the full story.

And so James told her - the whole story - from beginning to bitter end. Even about the ducks, with which she seemed very impressed, and even chuckled a bit at the part about him saying puns to Lestrange and Malfoy about their fowl magic. He ended with the purses on his antlers and the moment he saw her in the doorway and shrugged, “And now here I am.”

McGonagall nodded, “And now here you are.”

“Professor. I think Maryrose is at the Malfoy house,” he said. “It occurred to me when I was talking to Evans. They think she’s Lucy Minchum - so - so they were having Kreacher get luggage for Malfoy to take with him. So… so maybe Maryrose --?”

McGonagall drew a deep breath. “I’m afraid, Potter, that perhaps they know better, given the fact that they chased after you… and you had Lucy. You-Know-Who is not easily fooled. He is a suspected legilimens --”

James froze. He remembered very suddenly the information he’d learned about Snape from Regulus that morning. How Snape was a legilimens, how he’d supposedly taught Voldemort that art, how the only way to stop a legilimens was to be an occlumens and unless you were that then he could see your mind, like pictures… He felt ill. Voldemort had to know that Maryrose was not the true Lucy Minchum. Had to know exactly who she was. Knew she’d tried to deceive him. Knew she’d defied him….

Voldemort did not forgive such things easily.

“We should still check the Malfoy house!” James said, and he got up, “Minnie, where’s your floo powder?”

“Sit down, Mr. Potter. First of all, I am not authorizing you, a minor, to leave the premises again. You can’t be doing that, running off at the smallest clue! You should have gotten either myself or any other member of staff at all to look into the situation, rather than going off on your own to do it!” McGonagall’s face was stern. “Secondly, the Ministry has already disbatched multiple aurors to several homes of suspected Death Eaters in search for the Minister.”

“The Minister?”

McGonagall nodded, “It seems that we’ve been governed by an imposter.”

James stared up at her. “Well… well that explains a lot.”

“Indeed, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall nodded. “Fabian Prewett was attacked by the imposter at the Ministry this morning and Professor GIdeon sensed it and Albus Dumbledore had Alastor Moody on the job within moments.”

“And did Moody get the imposters, I’m sure he did, he’s bloody Moody,” James grinned.

McGonagall’s eyes clouded. “Mr. Moody did, indeed, apprehend one of the two offenders - but he was quite seriously injured in the process…” she paused. “He’s… he’s lost a limb, I’m afraid.”

James stomach twisted.

McGonagall sighed. “Mr. Potter, this has been a very terrible day.”

“Yes it has.” James nodded. “And it isn’t over yet.” He was thinking of the fact that he still had to contend with Mulciber for having attacked Sirius Black (or so James thought), and regardless of what McGonagall had to say, he wanted to go and inspect the Malfoy house himself. He had to. He had to save Maryrose Jenkins.

She stared at him a moment, then she asked, suddenly, “Is it only you who’s become an animagus, Mr. Potter?”

James looked up at her. “Professor?” he tried to look quite innocent.

“Is it only you or is it all four of you?”she questioned.

“Minnie,” James said as casually as he could, “Rey’s already a werewolf, he does enough transforming, don’t you reckon?”

She eyed him.

“Professor… do you really want to know? Isn’t keeping the secret for one enough?” he asked.

Professor McGonagall sighed, shaking her head, “I suppose the less I know, the better.” She stared at him very sternly and she said, “Just -- for Merlin’s sakes, Potter. Try not to transform a department store again.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Now go and get some rest, Mr. Potter.”

“Yes, Professor.”

He stood up and started for the door.

“Potter.”

“Yes, Professor?”

“What you’ve done today… it was very brave.”

James smiled. “Thank you, Professor.”

“And whatever Regulus Black says, it is not your fault - that Maryrose has been taken. You cannot change what evil people do, you can only try your best to prevent their deeds. And you, Mr. Potter, did your very best. And you’ve saved the life of a child. You’ve done very well.”

James nodded. He didn’t entirely agree. He started for the door and he paused, hand hovering over the knob. He looked back. “Professor?”

“Mr. Potter?”

“How did you know where I was? To come and save us like that?”

McGonagall’s lips twitched. “When Gideon Prewett was sent a patronus telling him to investigate known Death Eaters chasing a stag through a department store, disapparating before muggles and shooting spells about, I had a very strong feeling that I knew who that stag was.” She stared at him. “And it appears, Mr. Potter, that I was right. If the Ministry had ever picked you up in your stag form and found out you were an animagus in that fashion...” she shook her head.

“So you came to save me from the Ministry.”

“Yes, Mr. Potter. I came to save you.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

“Do not mention it,” she said. Then she added, “I mean that. Don’t. Ever.”

James smirked. “I won’t.”