Professor McGonogall sat at her desk and poured over the pile of reports on her desk. The feather quill tickled her cheek as her eyes glazed over and ink spilled onto the desk. She performed a spell to clean it up and stood out of her chair, stretching in an almost cat-like way. Walking toward the window overlooking the school grounds, she couldn’t help being plagued by memories of her years as a student at Hogwarts. Of a lifetime dedicated to the intellect behind magic and for the students who need a little extra push to reach their potential.
She watched a spot moving closer in the dark sky and noticed it was a small, snow white owl coming right toward her window. She opened it up so it wouldn’t lose momentum, as it tumbled in and rolled atop the pile of reports, scattering them on the floor.
Minerva sighed, exasperated, cleaning up the mess quickly with a flick of her wand and took the letter from the leg of the owl. She handed it some money and a treat for the road and it nipped her hand in thanks, flying off back into the night.
Unrolling the letter, she noticed it was from her brother. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she burped one up; it fluttered away as she walked to her cupboard, pulling her miniature cauldron out to make herself a hot butterbeer. She poured liquor inside to ready herself and settled herself on her couch by the fire.
It’s been a while. I am currently in Cairo, Egypt, living with a friend I met a few years ago. He went to Durmstrang, but I promise he’s good people. I wanted to get in touch. I miss my big, nerdy sister. I know we had our differences, but we are all each other has left in this world. Give me another chance, please. I booked a flight to come visit England next month.
I never meant to hurt anyone and you know I personally didn’t. I was young and I got caught up with the wrong crowd. I was never as smart as you; when it came to magic nor when it came to reading people. You must forgive me.
Minerva re-read the letter over and over again, downing her butterbeer and staring into the flames. She contemplated throwing the letter in the fire but a well of emotions had bubbled up in her chest. She shifted into a cat, desperately needing to clear her head, jumping right through her open window. She watched a little rat scurry past her into the shadows, frightened, and she ran right for the Forbidden Forest.
As she entered the darkened, dense area, where the forest becomes thick with trees and roots, she noticed an old man sitting on a tree trunk, flickering a deluminator.
‘Minerva,’ Albus Dumbledore’s calm voice cut through the silence.
The cat stared at him, frozen, with one paw hovering from the ground.
‘Do me a favour and shift back to yourself. I know you need to talk.’