you can't protect everyone.

she didn’t sob or wail. her grief was horribly discreet but as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound. minerva mcgonagall. forty four. deputy head, transfiguration prof & gryffindor head. cat lady. order.

[ofminerva]

evan:

the streets of knockturn alley reek of smoke and anxiety, and evan is sauntering down its paths with his hands dug deep into the pockets of his robe. he eventually stops in front of an abandoned store window, his feet crossing in front of him, his back leaning against the wall. hands are still hidden away from sight. the alley is busier than usual, and he doesn’t hesitate to establish himself. make it known why he’s there, how he fits into this puzzle. so he gives a nod to the person next to him, his gaze steady, showing no signs of wavering. “seems like business is booming around here, huh?” he says, voice smooth, maintaining a certain sense of warmth, but also a cruel sort of amusement lingering right below the surface. “no, really, i’m just a concerned citizen. trying to keep some peace in this world.” at that, his lips tug upwards into an agreeable grin. after all, lies are easier sold with a smile.

she’s observant, still, stoic, lips pressed together in a thin line as if she’s disapproving of a students’ behaviour. minerva is not pleased, it’s that simple --- this is a situation that should have been avoided, but no matter how badly she wishes it, she doesn’t have full control of this situation. in all truth, she has none, and that’s not something she’s quite comfortable with. when evan rosier stands next to her, she nods in acknowledgement, not much in the mood for a conversation. he is, apparently. “oh, absolutely,” she says, eyes trained on the crowds before meeting evan’s. “it’s a good day for shop owners.” the sarcasm that laces her words isn’t hidden, matches the amusement in the other’s tone. she’s bitter, though, deeply so, having grown worse than a cynic. “hm, that’s good to hear, mr rosier --- i suppose i could say the same for me. i had a free afternoon as well --” not entirely true; albus had send her this way. “-- and ... believe it or not, wanted to swap the highlands for the city.”

[ofminerva]

alice:

her hazel eyes brighten once they catch sight of her visitor, expression a mixture of surprise and joy. “oh hi, professor ! what a wonderful surprise. it’s great to see you. thank you for coming.” minerva’s visit was, in her eyes, a tremendous honor. alice is aware of how busy she was, with school and the order, so the fact that she took time out of her day to see them            well, that was a gift in itself. one that alice appreciates greatly. at her question, she just smiles, glancing down at neville who was finally sleeping peacefully. “i’m great, we’re great. just out for a little morning walk. he was a bit fussy earlier, so i was just trying to get him to calm down.” her arms move in rocking motions, careful not to disturb her son. her gaze shifts to the other woman, smile practically radiating happiness.  “how are you ?” 

perhaps she should’ve let alice know that she was stepping by, she realised now. minerva didn’t dwell on her slight mistake for too long though --- it wasn’t as if she had time for that. in stead, she focused on alice, and her son. “oh, don’t thank me --- i’m that it’s not too much of an issue that i’m stepping by.” a genuine smile crossed her lips. while minerva thought that alice was a bit young for parenthood, she couldn’t help but be immensely happy for the other. it was a mix of cynicism and pride that swirled through her stomach, but for now she chose to focus on the latter. there was plenty of room to be cynical later on. “he seems very peaceful now. a heavy sleeper, if he can sleep under this fluorescent light.” eyes travel over neville, her lips still curled. “oh, i’m good. busy, of course, but good.”

[ofminerva]

dorcas‌:

“ but can you really prove it, minerva ? “ the lack of respect most old students still held for the legendary teacher was obvious, just as it had been since first year - and it sure as well wouldn’t stop when there was no chance of detention. “ it’s not like you trace the geneology of each student. how can you tell the muggleborn meadowes weren’t a lie all along ? “ 

dorcas meadowes had been insufferable as a student, and now that she had graduated hogwarts, she was somehow WORSE. she saw less of her now, but when she did see her ... there was no room for taking points or handing out detentions. all she could do was be annoyed. “i don’t see why i would want to. see, i don’t care much for blood status, anyway.” 

[ofminerva]

lily:

“thank  you.”  there  was  something  about  minerva’s  presence  that  always  seemed  to  bring  lily a  surge  of  comfort  . maybe  it  was  because  she’d  always  looked  up  to  her during  and  after  her  time  at  hogwarts ,  or  because  she  simply  felt  safe  when  she  was  around  .  whatever  it  truly  was  ,  lily  was  glad she stopped  by  . “ it  was  long ,  but  overall  it  went  really  well .  now  i’m just …  adjusting  to it all .” it  was  a  big  change  for  the  young  parents  ,  especially  since lily  felt  like  she  was  still  a  child   sometimes  .  but  even  through  everything  ,  motherhood  came  almost  NATURALLY  to  lily .  either  that  ,  or  harry  was  just   a  easy  baby  .  she figured  she’d  find  out  soon  enough  .“ but harry  has  been  wonderful  so  far . really  he’s  the  sweetest  little  baby  .  and  i  think  he  must  like  you  too . ”  

“it seems you’re doing that quite well,” she says, not bothering to hide the pride in her voice. in all honesty, minerva hadn’t expected otherwise --- so much had seemed to come naturally to lily when she’d been a student. motherhood was just another thing for her to conquer. eyes fell on harry again, and she imagined the days where he’d sit in her classroom ( hopefully with a red-and-gold tie ), in which she’d owl with lily to tell him how big a troublemaker he was. there was no way he wouldn’t be, after all. “he seems like an absolute delight. i hope he’s this quiet during the night, too.” minerva tried to shake off her sentimental thoughts, knowing far well that focusing on happy futures was a dangerous thing, with everything so unpredictable. “hm, you do? that’s good to know.” she let her tone turn slightly amused. “i do live for the approval, after all.”

[allsonargent]

favorite characters ≡ Joan Watson

“Our work, what we do, it’s not just a job now. It’s who I am. I’m a detective. I’m ready to embrace that. I live in this world, your world, and I probably will for the rest of my life.”

[ofminerva]

liam:

his cheek is leaning against a propped up fist. he can feel his nails digging into his palm. she’s right, she doesn’t know what he’s thinking. but maybe if she could she’d see exactly how stupid what she was saying truly was.

he didn’t need to look at the article face up on the table between them. he didn’t need to read any newspaper. the frantic thoughts of order members running back and forth like caged rats told him all he needed to know. 

“that’s fucking easy for you to say.” his gaze was sharp when it finally met hers but he couldn’t hold it for long. “if what they’re saying is the truth then my sister and i are the first ones they’re going after. and not just death eaters.”

it was every single enemy he’d ever managed to make around the underbelly of diagon alley. it was every tentative ally he’d made and then sold their secrets straight to the order. this was more than just burning the bridges and starting from scratch somewhere else. he was a bloody dead man walking. him and his sister both. how was the god damn order supposed to protect them from people they didn’t even know about? bloody good as dead, he was.

minerva didn’t flinch at his words or change her facial expression. she might not be able to read people’s minds like liam was, but she wasn’t daft. she knew that the other would not respond to her with gratefulness and relief. it wasn’t as simple as that. it never was.

“do you think any of this is easy for me?,” she returned, tone just as sharp, her eyes never leaving his face. how easy it was, to slip off her caring words and return to the icy professor so many were used to. “you must know that it isn’t.”

she knew her words were a tinge petty, but minerva didn’t much care; she wasn’t one for sugarcoating and holding back, anyway. “if it’s true, many people’s lives are going to be in danger --- not just those of you and your sister. look, liam, i don’t want to downplay the danger you’re in, and i see that it’s bigger than that i am in, or other order members, but still.”

a sigh slipped past her lips. she didn’t bother to appear softer than she was with liam, as she figured he’d see through that. “there’s others who are going to be on top of the lists of the death eaters. you know that. younger order members, too. and above all, we’ll know who they are, too.” she paused, sipped her tea. “running away from this isn’t going to solve anything. we have resources. you have resources.”

[ofminerva]

liam:

he had a talent for finding the places no one really seemed to care for, to look at or make into anything worthwhile. he’d always been good at it, the one who found some abandoned hole in the wall for him and his sister to take shelter for the night. but she’d outgrown the need for places like those. he hadn’t. especially on a night like tonight.

this is where he came to escape bellatrix black. at least it was one of those sorts of places that he had in his arsenal. there were quite a few. he needed them. escaping was becoming a ritual nowadays. though this one had been leagues short of graceful. he was breathing hard as his apparition ended, as he stumbled through the doorway he all but fell into to open. his legs felt like stone. his chest still felt like it was being stabbed by bella’s favorite blade. he coughed, stumbling into the nearest chair.

the thing about places like these was that they were completely empty. completely alone. he needed that. the secrecy of it was the only thing he really did have in a situation like his. it was the only constant he had other than ‘bellatrix black was going to hurt you’. he hadn’t checked the place to see that it was still as empty as he believed it to be. he never needed to. he was still trying to catch his breath when minerva crawled out from under the chair, still trying and failing to right himself as she became herself again and spoke, didn’t move his shaky hold on the back of the chair until she touched him. he started for a moment, tried to flip himself around but for only a moment. that’s all he had in him. if there really was a threat hiding up in one of these hole in the walls he wouldn’t have been able to fight them off anyway. he shook his head, gulped down air and the blood still in his mouth, tried a thin smile. “you should see the other guy.”

a lie. he’d hardly left a scratch on bellatrix black.

she had to remind herself so terribly often that this was a war, and that in war people got hurt. that was something that was hard to swallow, though, but when you added the fact that these people were often former students, it became even harder. minerva had never allowed herself to grow stoic at that fact, to accept that --- to do so, was to turn her back on her nature. albus might be able to live with such facts, might be able to see the younger members of the order as soldiers just as much as the older ones. she did not.

every time she saw one of them bleeding, she was reminded of placing sorting hats on their heads, of teaching them in her classroom, of deducting or granting points to them. separating past from present was always hard for minerva --- a sentimental being, underneath all her cynicism --- and in this moment, all she saw was liam when he’d been eleven. 

he wasn’t even one of the younger members, and still she felt trapped in the memories. but only for a slight moment; minerva was pragmatic after all, easy to force her emotions down and to focus on the task at hand. maybe she was stoic, after all.

“i don’t doubt it,” she said, even though she did. eyes searched for wounds, for places she could heal with waves of her wand and muttered spells, for a source of blood to close up. “let me help you --- where are you hurt?” she wished to yell at him, to bark as she would have when he was still a student, to scold him for being reckless. those days were over, though. they were something close to equals now, or were supposed to be something like that, at least. “do you know who got to you?”

[yourstrulys]

The Devil Wears Prada Dir. David Frankel (2006)

[ofminerva]

“i don’t know what you’re thinking,” says minerva. they’re sat at headquarters, the daily prophet lying on the table between them, the article that’s shaking everyone open. “but i hope you know that whatever happens, people will be protected.” she’s been drawing up plans with others, trying to think of what to do in what situation. if the names are incorrect, there’s people outside the order to protect. if the names are correct, there have to be more safehouses, more places for people to go and be safe. minerva’s not focused on what would happen to her, should she be outed. it’s people like liam ( @liammackenna ) she’s worried about. “if this is true ... we’re not going to let it stop us.”

[ofminerva]

“he’s beautiful,” she says, looking down at the small child in her arms, refusing to show lily ( @lilpctters ) the tears she felt welling up in her eyes. it’s not like she’s ashamed of it, really --- but she prefers to remain the emotionally reserved -- and above all, reliable -- professor in lily’s eyes. to show her emotional involvement would be foolish and unprofessional and not lead to much good. she assumes lily knows, though, that she cares. “and harry ... a wonderful name.” minerva doesn’t have favourites, but lily and james are two students she misses in her classroom dearly, and to have seen them get married and have a son, in such times? she would be lying if she said it didn’t move her. “how have you been? did it all go well?”

[ofminerva]

dorcas‌:

“ y’know, my family should be on the list. “ dorcas commented without much care at the sight of the newest edition of witch weekly and their long piece on the abbott family. “ there was this whole thing betwen the nott dude who wrote it and my family, and boom, the pevensies were out of the question. “ 

“perhaps you should choose someone else to sell your lies to, miss meadowes,” remarked minerva dryly, not giving dorcas any hint of a reaction to her words.  that she was slightly amused at the others’ comments was something she wouldn’t show in a thousand years. stubborn pride. “i’m -- as you know -- very much aware that that’s not true, though perhaps someone else would believe it.”

[ofminerva]

alice‌:

it’s early morning but alice is wide awake, strolling along the empty corridors of st mungos. the woman is physically exhausted, worn out from all the events of the past few days, but she’s never felt more CONTENT in her whole life. she’s completely mesmerized by the sleeping bundle cradled in her arms, so much that she hardly notices when she is joined by another as she rounds the corner, glancing at the familiar face with bright eyes. “oh, hi ! good morning.” she coos, voice barely above a whisper as if to avoid waking the sleeping child nestled in her embrace. it’s almost impossible to tear her gaze away from her son ( afraid she might miss something important if she did ) but she eventually manages, offering nothing short of a beam. “what are you doing here so early ?” 

minerva didn’t do this with all her students -- visit them at the hospital, to congratulate them on their newborn son -- but she made exceptions. some held a special place in her heart, and especially those who shared a spot in the order with her. and so, she held a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small present for the newest addition to the longbottom in the other as she made her way over to the room in which she’d been told alice was residing. she didn’t have to look long, though, as she found herself nearly bumping into the new mother as she walked through the corridors. “i was coming to see you, actually,” she said, eyes falling on the baby in alice’s arms --- so frail, so small, too young to understand the world around him. “before classes started, hence my earliness. i’m glad you’re awake.” a rare, genuine smile curled her lips. “congratulations, alice. how are you?”

[ofminerva]

molly‌:

“ oh please, you aren’t old. just compare yourself to albus but don’t tell him i said that. “ molly sometimes felt twenty years older, weighed down by the war and the abundance of hyper active children running through her house at a constant rate. “ with all boys ‘m afraid my patience is always needed. fred and george are always causing some trouble up, “ molly couldn’t help but smile though, knowing while her boys were a little much at times they were great none the less. “ the boys are alright. bill is a little shaken up. we’re trying to shelter them much as can be y’know? “

“no no, i know i’m not. it’s just hard to remember, when you’re continuously surrounded by so many young people.” she supposed it was good, though, that she was older than them --- if the order existed out of only young people, it’d have ceased to exist a long time ago. “try teaching about a hundred students a day --- patience is really valuable then. though i suppose that infants take up even more energy than teenagers.” minerva’s wish for children burned in her stomach for a moment, but she ignored it, nodded along to molly’s words in stead. “that’s probably for the best, yes. this isn’t something they should be dealing with. i’m glad they’re alright, though.”

[ofminerva]

task 007: wardrobe

minerva loves tartan and tweed and that’s all 

i mean she wears it obsessively? like? we get it minerva! you’re scottish! we get it! 

honestly she just thinks it’s really nice looking? and it’s warm? it looks scottish and teacher-y and honestly it’s just an Aesthetic that she’s committed to and now she cant turn back.

usually wears wizarding clothes tbh but she does know how to handle muggle clothes bc her dad is one and! she thinks muggle fashion is pretty rad. when she wears muggle clothes it’s very country-side chique, so once again ... tartan and tweed.

she just loves that !! vintage aesthetic !! what can i say!!

doesnt wear her hair in a tight bun all the time yet, but does like putting it up partly with nice accessories.

wears rly witchy boots because theyre rad. does not wear them when she has to go outside though because ... they sink in the grass lmao. wears rainboots often too (with tartan print? probably? lmao)

this is very one tone but minerva just has found her style and it’s one tone but COOL.

[ofminerva]

she was growing DESPERATE. desperate for a breakthrough, for names of death eaters or insight in their plans. minerva dealt with desperation in only one way: she tried to find what she needed. and so, on top of her regular duties, she was using every free night she had to spy. she’d turn into her cat form and lurk in suspicious places, places that were empty but could be occupied by death eaters, shady buildings and quiet alleys. any place of wizarding great brittain, she tried to stake out in, in the hopes that she would find something. anything. she hadn’t been too lucky yet, had come back to hogwarts tired and achy and empty handed almost every night, and so when she heard a noise on that evening, she felt hope. it lasted for a mere second, though.

she watched a dark figure ( @liammackenna ) burst through the door, and she retreated into the shadows more, her bean-toes making no sound on the wood floor. she watched, her eyes narrowed, her instincts sharp, waiting to see the intruder’s face. the light shone just right, and she recognised liam mackenna -- or a shadow of him. minerva turned back to her usual shape after moving forward ( she had been hiding under a chair, and hitting her head on the bottom of that was not something she was planning on doing ). “liam? what happened?” her voice demanded an answer, but was laced with worry, mostly, as she moved over swiftly to support him.

[ofminerva]

seraphina:

“ what i do inside my classroom is not a debate on morals and philosophies. those muggleborn students, “ the staff meeting at hogwarts had been rather focused on the letters of four sets of complaining parents over their children not being allowed into wizard art., “ couldn’t undestand the material nor could they care about it - there’s a muggle arts class right across the hall. i simply told them which would be a better fit for their abilities. “

“as an art teacher, you ought to be aware of the fact that art is so often political. or weren’t you, up until now?” minerva looks at the other, challenging look in her eyes. “many students come into my class, incapable of doing the spells i try and teach them --- that doesn’t mean i dismiss them. it means i teach them. that IS our job here, after all: to teach. above all, we’re here to teach everyone who wants to learn, not just the people who fit your ... personal preferences.”

[ofminerva]

molly:

“ i hope you don’t mind i view you more of a friend now rather than my professor. oh dear, i’m making myself feel old… ” molly trailed off with a small shake of her head not wanting to think about how despite it feeling like it was yesterday hogwarts was a little over a decade ago, a completely different chapter of her life. “ with all the boys running around my house i need the patience. i’m surviving, it’s a little stressful with the kids and the order but i’m doing well. and yourself? ”

“oh, absolutely not. it’s quite a relieving thought, really. what i always do when i start to feel old, is imagine how old albus is ... always puts things in perspective.” and still her boss was able to make such hideous mistakes. it was unbelievable, but not surprising. “i’m afraid all my students use up my patience during the day, so when i lose something, i try not to waste any that i have left.” minerva ran a hand through her hair. “it’s busy, in all honesty, i barely have a moment to myself. i’m doing well, though, handling it all. are the boys doing alright? it must be confusing for them.”