Empty Promises - Event: Ready to Comply - Self Para
Minerva sat behind her desk, hands pressed lightly to her temples. The morning sun was still only just rising, its pale rays reflecting off the glassy surface of the lake. Her gaze rested heavily on the paper before her, the boldface type somehow mocking her. She found herself stuck in the world that had been stolen from the child. The young girl would never get an owl in the mail, Minerva’s script filling out the page in emerald green ink. Never get her wand, ride the train, have the worn hat placed lovingly on her head, take her place amongst those who were soon to be her friends. These moments all robbed from her and her parents. A burning anger sat in her stomach, heavy and painful. At the same time a dull ache was crushing her chest, threatening to leave her breathless.
This was their war, not the children’s. There was something so incredibly sickening in the idea of a child dragged into the war of the adults around her that she felt herself growing physically ill. How could she look into the faces of her students that day? Tell them that they were safe, when the choices their parents made without them could determine if they lived or died? How could she look at them without seeing anything but small children, who she was desperate to protect?
She forced herself to swallow a sip of tea, not tasting a it as it passed over her tongue. The action more automatic than intentional, she found her mind wandering to darker places yet. There was reason to believe this was Death Eater against Death Eater, yet even that seemed too horrid to contemplate. The idea that those fighting on the same side could slit one another’s throats, let alone the throats of their children. However, the next option was far worse, the idea that someone who stood with them, who she had no doubt broken bread with, laughed with, could do such a thing, was too much. In fact, it was impossible. The bile rose in her throat and she contemplated retching into the bin next to her desk.
The moment mercifully passed, and Minerva heaved a painful sigh. She did not have the privilege of luxuriating in her own horror and fear. Nor did she have the time to grieve. Their was work to be done, and in many ways she was grateful to have it do to. Picking the Daily Prophet off her desk gingerly, as if it might burn her, she folded it in half, and placed it inside a drawer deep in her desk. A flick of her wand procured a stack of parchment bearing the crest of the school, and a heading, reading “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
Setting one piece of parchment in front of her, and taking quill in hand, she began to write, the words appearing concurrently on the other pieces of parchment, mirrored magically hundreds of times in green ink.
To the Guardians of our Hogwarts Students,
By now we are sure that you are aware of the horrible attack that was suffered by the Travers family. The entire wizarding community grieves with them in the tragic loss of their five year old daughter, and all of the faculty at Hogwarts send their deepest condolences.
We send this letter not to alarm you, but rather to set any fears you may have at rest. The safety of your children, our students, is always our topmost priority and of the utmost concern. Rest assured that your child is safe at Hogwarts and shall remain so as long as they are within our castle walls. In light of recent events we shall be revisiting our security spells and consulting with the Ministry of Magic regarding further potential steps. In addition, all future visits to Hogsmeade have been canceled until further notice.
Students will be addressed regarding these changes at breakfast this morning. Classes will continue as per usual.
In times such as this it is easy to succumb to panic in the face of such unspeakable horrors. We here at Hogwarts wish to remind you that fear is the number one enemy that we all face. For the sake of your children’s well being both physical and emotional, we ask you to remain calm, reassure them, and allow them to remain at Hogwarts.
I personally, am happy to answer any questions and concerns that you may have about our safety measures or what we will be doing for our students in this time.
Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall
Minerva’s eyes flicked across the flowing script for a third, and then fourth time. Satisfied that her letter was sufficiently bipartisan, practical, and reassuring, she nodded to no one but herself. A flick of her wand set the parchment to folding itself, and she sat back in her chair, wiping at her eyes, lest the tears dare begin to fall.
There was much yet to be done. Owls to send out en mass, students to face at breakfast in only half an hour, and no doubt masses of panicked first and second years to comfort. The day stretched ahead of her, long and nigh upon overwhelming. Standing suddenly, she pursed her lips into a stoic expression. This was what fighting a war looked like, and it wasn’t pretty.
