Have a biscuit.

Professor M. McGonagall Transfiguration Teacher. Head of Gryffindor House. Order Member. Devoted. "Don’t let their doubting drown out the sound of your own heartbeat. You are the first drop of a hurricane. Your bravery builds beyond you." -Clementine von Radics

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

This blog is no longer active,

nor is it associated with the Riddles Regime RP group. 

Sorry for the inconvenience

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

👪 for what my muse would say to your muse’s child about them.

She pads briskly down the dark lane, the pavement the onlyseemingly steady thing in her life. She hadn’t let herself feel it. All day shehad been hoping that she would wait and wait and that Albus would not show up.That he wouldn’t confirm the rumors. That somehow it had been some otherfamily- someone that she didn’t know. That the end of the war, a long-soughtcelebration, would be marred by the gaping hole that had once been James andLily Potter.

She stops just as the garden wall ends and stares up at thesign before her. The marking where Privet Drive turned onto Wisteria Walk. Sheglances back, into the quiet street, knowing that to linger would not be wise.Turn and leave, just as Albus had intended. Just as he had done.

The streetlamps glowed, illuminating the tidy gardens, thesleepy houses. All was quiet. It seemed safe. There was not a sight or soundout of place. The world, in comparison to itself not 48 hours ago, was muchsafer because of the events surrounding the child now asleep on the doorstepfour houses down. But not for him.

Albus was right. In their world, he would never be allowedto be a normal boy. Guarded vigorously, placed upon a pedestal, and taught thathe was different from the beginning. She owes it to them to give their childone more night where he will be known and loved for who he is.

She is before the house again, before a plan is fully formedin her mind. To leave him alone, would be such an injustice to the memory ofthe Potters; James who befriended the misfortunate, Lily who protected theweak.

He is still sleeping quietly where they left him and shepads gently over to the blankets. The night is chilly, the first of November,and she places herself as close to him as possible. He is still so little- justover a year in July. Her eyes wander over his peaceful face, and thanks anyonewho is listening that the nightmares of war are not with him tonight. A sharptang pulls her attention and she recognizes the smell of blood. It’s dried intohis hair. She looks away.

She’s thankful that her emotions are somewhat diluted inthis body- grief is still felt, but it is not as deep as it will be by themorning, when she sheds this form and walks into her classroom.

‘They would not havewanted this for you.’ She settles down next to him, presses her side intohis. ‘Being alone in the world changesyou.’

The tiny susurrus of breath ruffles her whiskers as shegazes across him to the darkened street. She glances back down to his sleepingface and watches his eyelids flutter.

‘Their bravery is whatyou will hear about’ she presses herself closer to his side, allowing herwarmth to sink into him. ‘You’ll be expectedto be the same way. To stubbornly move forward when the whole world is againstyou.’

She can smell theash in his hair- it’s nearly overpowering this close.

They’ll tell you that your parents did a great thing. That theirsacrifice saved us all. They’ll say it in a way that makes you feel guilty forselfishly wishing that it hadn’t happened. You’ll hear that you look like yourfather. People will expect you to be someone that you’ve never had aconversation with. They’ll have stories to share and pictures to reminisceover. You’ll want to join in, because it connects you to them, but at the endof the day they will still be strangers to you.

She sighs and allows the grief to wash over her in waves. ‘I know that what I can offer is not—will neverbe good enough. But when you come to me with questions, I will tell you aboutyour parents. Not the heroes that saved us all- I will tell you about the twopeople who loved you the most in the world. Because they deserve to beremembered as they truly were.’

In silence they rest and wait for the dawn to break. Sheleaves alone.

@jamesxpctter

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

[tomhollendme]

❤️ Their daring, nerve, and chivalry, Set Gryffindors apart ❤️

Ravenclaw   Slytherin   Hufflepuff 

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Only the Moon Howls|| Minerva & Marlene.

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Minerva stayed alert as Marlene calmed the children, her wand pointed in the direction that they had run from. As the cries shredded the foggy silence, Minerva stepped in front of Marlene and the children- searching the shadows desperately for the source.

The snarl came from a lane on their left and she hissed behind her, “Get them out of here!” fearing what noises they would hear next. Sure enough the pounding footsteps were soon drowned out by screams of terror, the rending of fabric and flesh and the sickening splash of blood upon pavestone. 

She rushed into the alleyway, her wand tip flaring brightly toward the source of the noise. The Beast snarled as it raised it’s bloodstained muzzle in their direction. Minverva didn’t hesitate when her wand light caught upon the dripping leaves of the creeping ivy along the stone wall. With a flourish the greenery burst from it’s perch, entwining the wolf in a net of tightening vines. She advanced as it pulled him flush against the wall, and waited until it’s flailing had calmed. It’s golden eye followed her as she moved towards it, tracking her as it’s lip pulled back in a snarl.

‘Petrificus Totalus’ she thought for extra measure and saw the stiffening of muscles beneath the plants’ hold.

The sound of a portkey activating flooded through the sudden silence and Marlene’s footsteps followed her into the lane.

“I’ve got one dead,” Minerva called, surveying the carnage behind the beast, the stillness that meant one thing. She could hear Marlene charming the entrance to the alleyway closed, and waited until her footsteps caught up with her.

“He’s not going anywhere, but we should secure the area. If another got in here, it might be able to figure out how to free him.” She pointed her wand skyward and sent up red sparks, hoping that someone would be along soon to collect the body.

“We need to be careful,” She said as she made her way through the darkened alley, “We wouldn’t have heard that one if it hadn’t found her first.”

@marlene-mckinncn

[marlene-mckinncn-blog]

“Shhh, shh,” Marlene hushed the children, even as her voice could hardly compete with the increasing cacophony of horror racing down the street. Her fingers moved faster, building the portkey deftly. “On three,” she instructed, holding out her free hand to demonstrate that they should be ready to grab. “One… two-” she threw the portkey on the ground between them, “three!”

Marlene leapt to her feet as both children vanished, tugged magically through space to St. Mungo’s. She allowed herself to believe that perhaps someone they knew might be waiting there. The thought of such relief drifted through her mind with the vagueness of a forgotten scent from childhood rather than a concrete vision of a pleased parent, but it made her smile very slightly even as she squinted down at the petrified werewolf. She nudged it with the toe of her boot and then trotted after Minerva.

“How?” she called back as she waved her wand to secure the entrance they had just used. When she caught up, Marlene bit the inside of her cheek as she examined the area. Minerva had not, she quickly realized, been referring to a werewolf and her question was rendered pointless. Brown eyes flickered automatically over the corpse, looking for distinguishing marks with a practiced air. A voice in the back of her mind suggested perhaps this was for the best, this stillness rather than the matted fur and scarlet-stained teeth of the petrified animal behind them.

“Old enough to be their mother,” Marlene heard herself comment, surprising herself and looking away abruptly. The remains were difficult to judge effectively. But the woman was roughly between thirty and fifty. She nodded her head to demonstrate that she’d heard Minerva’s advice. Then made a gesture to indicate she would take the other side so that she and Minerva were walking parallel down the alley.

For a while—some nebulous amount of time between seconds and minutes, all blurring together in Marlene’s head—their footsteps were once again the only nearby sound. The muffled sound of fighting further out filled Marlene’s eardrums. The Auror glanced upwards as the alley seemed to grow dimmer still and her throat burned; smoke was beginning to choke out the angry orange of the sky by that point and settle between the buildings. A streak of brown filled her peripheral vision, the sky spun wildly, and Marlene felt herself fall backwards. Instinctively, she flung out an arm to cast a spell that sent the object flying backwards against a brick wall. Wet snapping noises echoed off the walls. Broken bones, animal and human. 

The creature righted itself in an angry flail of paws and emitted a low growl. Its glinting eyes were the easiest thing to track through the street as Marlene rolled her eyes back in her head to catch a glimpse of what had knocked her on her back. “Minerva!” she called breathlessly, her cry punctuated by a gasp and then series of cracks as she waved her wand and magically straightened out her now-crumpled left arm.

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Minerva took the three steps at a run and vaulted over Marlene’s fallen form. The beast was righting itself and Minerva wasted no time. The shield charm was up without a sound, and she glanced back to assess the damage.  “You alright?” She called as the werewolf paced at the edge of her wandlight; it’s eyes reflected menacingly in the darkness. 

She saw Marlene healing herself, no trace of a bite on her bent arm. A small miracle. Minerva turned back to the werewolf and lifted her wand to see the alley behind it. The back of shops and townhouses apparently. The century old bricks were perfect for what she needed. She flicked her wand in a complicated maneuver and the bricks 15 feet behind the creature sprang into motion. They pulled from their mounts and reformed into a high wall, trapping the wolf between her shield and a thirty foot wall. She watched it’s movements, saw the moment that it switched to the offense- it’s steps becoming more calculated and it’s hackles rising. 

The shield wouldn’t last much longer, especially if the wolf decided to attack directly. She sent another shield behind them, so that they would not be surprised by a second attacker. 

“Whenever you’re ready.” Minerva sensed that Marlene was back on her feet. “I’ll make a distraction, you disable it.” 

@marlene-mckinncn

[ofhotheads-blog]

EVER WONDER WHAT MY MUSE SAYS ABOUT YOURS?

Send me a symbol.

📖 for what my muse would write about yours in their diary. 📷 for what my muse would say to the paparazzi about yours. 💋 for what my muse would say to the person trying to woo your muse. 🔪 for the eulogy my muse would give for yours. 💌 for a letter my muse would write to yours. 📫 for a letter my muse would write about yours to a third party. 📨 for a text my muse would send to yours. 💬 for a text my muse would send to yours to a third party. 💀 for what my muse would say upon hearing about your muse’s death. 👪 for what my muse would say to your muse’s child about them. 👊 for what my muse would say upon hearing yours has been arrested. 💒 for the toast my muse would give at your muse’s wedding.

[nerdytrash--trashynerd]

hogwarts houses aesthetics

↳ houses + dark moodboards

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Notice to all incoming 7th year students

Due to staffing shortages this year, the position of professors assistant will be offered to eligible 7th year students. Duties include but are not limited to:

-Grading Essays and Exams

-Monitoring Testing & Tutoring sessions

-Leading pre-planned group lessons

-Various other activities via assigned professor. 

The following subjects still require aide. Defense Against the Dark Arts, Study of Ancient Runes, Herbology, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, & Potions.

Send all inquiries by return of post by August 31st. Interviews conducted by professors the first week of term. 

Professor M. McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

Office of Transfiguration

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 

[riddlesregime-ops]

Put a question in my ask and I’ll write an IC monologue/drabble of my muse’s past

rpmememaker:

Question examples to start you off:

What’s it like to kill a man?

Who happened to you?

How did you get those scars?

Why are you afraid?

What is family to you?

What is wrong with you?

[makanidotdot]

mcgonagall’s story oh my god

pottermore i don’t think i’m going to be able to handle you

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Cardboard Walls|| James & Minerva

[jamesxpctter]

rr-professor-mcgonagall :

Minerva stooped to pick up a fallen leaflet, crumpled and left thoughtlessly by the doors to the Great Hall. The sound of laughter could be heard from the open entrance hall doors and she stood for a moment, enjoying the rare sound. She sighed and made to turn back to the marble staircase- there were papers to grade and she resigned herself to an afternoon in her office.

Almost done for the year, though, she thought; However, it did not give her the pleasure that the prospect of two months of peace and quiet usually did. There had been more reports of deaths, more ‘accidents’, more disappearances. The two months would not be spent making lesson plans, catching up on her Transfiguration Today subscription. No, this summer would be non-stop Order meetings, lookout posts and raids.

She had nearly missed the lone figure slouched over the far table in the Hall, but her eye caught him at the last moment. She stared for a moment, not sure of exactly what she was seeing. It was so strange to see one of them alone, especially this one that she wondered for a moment the possibility that he was using himself as bait. That the others would be waiting just inside the door to spring out at whomever happened to pass through next with whatever newly liquified substance they had managed to get into buckets.

She glanced around, listening intently as she quietly passed through the doors into the Great Hall, and to her relief- and slight confusion- was not met with the cries of miscreant victory, but with silence.

“Some tea, I think.” She said as she sat across from him, but he did not react. The tea, however, appeared upon a neat silver tray along with her favorite biscuits.

She poured them each a cup and set the saucer gently before him. “Sugar?” She held a cube with the dainty tongs out in his direction, but was once again met with stony silence. “Honestly, Potter- I have seen the gusto that your area of the table destroys the Halloween Feast.” She dropped the cube in and added one to her own.

She sipped in silence for a while, and found that- although present company was excluded- she had not heard a merrier racket from the student body in quite some time. The summer weather seemed to have brightened not just the sky.

Minerva turned her attention back to the uncharacteristically morose sixth year before her, and took another sip of tea, waiting patiently for him to speak.

@jamesxpctter 

It was strange, really.  The school year was wrapping up, he was in the one year between OWLs and NEWTs so his exams couldn’t be that bad, and the sound of students’ chatter and laughter was all that he could hear.  He should be out there among them, adding to it.  Causing that laughter, and adding to the witty banter in a way that only James Potter could.

He had friends that liked being around him, a girlfriend that practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and yet… he was inside the castle.  Alone in the Great Hall.  Somehow, things just didn’t seem right anymore.  Maybe it was the front page news of murders that would trickle in when he just wanted to look at the Quidditch scores.  Or maybe-worse- he felt that his days of pranking and goofing off no longer gave him the satisfaction that they once did.

Granted, he still loved the thrill that came with a good prank.  The setting up of it, the planning, the time it allowed him to spend with his best mates were all reasons he still participated in such crazy antics.  But lately, the payoff just did not give him the sweet fulfillment that it once did.  Maybe it was just a slump.  An end of the year phase he was going through, and that passion would return once September rolled around again.

But what if it didn’t?

It was only while he was mulling over these thoughts that the shadow of his head of house darkened the seat across from him, tea and biscuits appearing in front of them.  He heard her questions, but found it best not to speak.  At least, not right away.  After the sugar dropped in, James reached up, pushing the handle back and forth so that the cup turned on the saucer, not bothering to take a sip.

Typically, the first things out of his mouth would be a flirtatious remark, a stupid nickname, and his most charming grin.  But, somehow, that didn’t seem fitting for the momen.

“Everything changes now, huh?”

He didn’t raise his eyes, keeping them locked on the teacup he continued to push back and forth on the saucer, watching it rotate ever so slightly.

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Minerva watched as he fidgeted with his cup, then let her gaze wander across the hall. Everything was changing, especially in the eyes of her students. James was too young to fully realize this, but every era of life was marked with change, some of it brought on by tragedy. 

It was unfair, she thought, that the students be asked to grow up so quickly. That it be a necessity for them to learn to fight- instead of a choice. That some of them, innocent as they were now, would soon be asked to join the battle.

“Yes, I suppose everything does,” She answered truthfully, then continued with the barest of smiles, “Although, I can’t be expected to vilify change... I am a transfiguration professor.” 

@jamesxpctter

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

company | ashes to ashes prompt | imogen, minerva & pomona

[imogenrosmerta-blog]

The smile (which was always more of a smirk) that Imogen had trained herself to keep plastered on her face during opening hours quickly faultered once she saw the grave looks on her friends faces. She quickly poured wine into their three cups and pushed two glasses towards the pair. “What do you mean? Did something happen?” Of course something was always happening thanks to the war, but something told Imogen that things were worse than normal

She watched the exchange between her friends in silence, of course confused as to what must have transpired. She knew that Minerva was a member of the Order, having given up her pub a few times for meetings but the few times she had Pomona had not been there. It was easy to assume that what they were saying was to do with the war, but having chosen to stay away from the Order herself she wasn’t ever the first to know… But thanks to her work she usually always did find out.

“Meeting?” So it was to do with the order. “I thought your guys main problem were the Death Eaters.” Imogen didn’t want to think about fighting within the Order, honestly she just wanted to avoid thinking about the war at all - especially if the side she was routing for were fighting amongst themselves. “Well you’ve come to the right place.” She pushed her smile back onto her lips. “I just finished this new batch of wine. I’ve been waiting to show it off.”

@rr-professor-mcgonagall

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

McGonagall held her glass out for a second helping and settled back into her chair. She felt as though she had been running for hours- her body achy and her mind numb. Arguments and accusations swam through her thoughts as she recalled the hostile meeting that had spanned for several more hours than planned. While the fighting was exhausting, she knew that it had been long coming. Providing a united force against Voldemort was a lofty goal, and it’s application was turning out to be fairly impractical. Too many differing opinions, too many that weren’t ready to follow orders on blind faith, too many that should not be asked to follow blindly.

“The Death Eaters are still on of our main concerns. His power is in numbers, and they are growing.” She took another sip of wine, gathering her thoughts, “The problem is as it has always been. He excels in growing in the shadows. Right when we think we have a lead, it seems to vanish.” 

She sighed, “I feel like things have been coming to head recently. There’s been a lot of loss and not many victories.”

 Emotions run high, mistakes are made. She knew that Albus had no inkling that the patrol he set on the church would ever attack it unprovoked, and therefore not informed them of their allies inside. However, in hindsight, she felt that it may have been prudent to make them somewhat aware of the plan. Albus and his secrets. 

She would need a lot more wine. 

“There was an accident. Our people sent to stake out a building that we believe is a place where Death Eaters congregate. Unbeknownst to the ones gathering intelligence, the Order had sent in four disguised members inside the building to gather intelligence.” She rubbed a tense spot between her eyebrows, “Not only did we not find information that would aid us, the members outside the hideout decided to set the building on fire. Our people were still inside. All fine-” She quickly reassured Imogen’s shocked expression, “But they had to fight their way out. And we lost an opportunity to find out what the Death Eaters are up to.” 

She looked over at Pomona, who seemed small and weary. She felt the same. 

“This has, as you can imagine, lead to a lot of...hostility within our ranks. Some believe that it was the right call to attack the Death Eaters openly. Some think we should be gathering intelligence and taking them down systematically- without chaos.” 

She shook her head, “We’re more divided now, than we’ve ever been.” 

@magic-sprouts @imogenrosmerta

[albus119]

*Hóng* #albusdumbledore #mcgonagall

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Revisions

To:

Dolores Umbridge

Improper Use of Magic Office, DMLE

Level 2, MoM

RE: Hogsmeade Magical Restriction Revision

Ms. Umbridge,

Your request to revise the student off-grounds guidebook has been approved by the Govenors and I have been designated as the Hogwarts liason for this matter. My office hours are as follows: 

Tuesday & Thursday 4-7pm, Saturday 9-11am, 1-4pm. 

Please respond with the intended time that you will be arriving, and I shall send and escort to the gates for you. 

Regards,

Professor M. McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

Office of Transifguration

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 

@omgdoloresumbridge

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Cardboard Walls|| James & Minerva

Minerva stooped to pick up a fallen leaflet, crumpled and left thoughtlessly by the doors to the Great Hall. The sound of laughter could be heard from the open entrance hall doors and she stood for a moment, enjoying the rare sound. She sighed and made to turn back to the marble staircase- there were papers to grade and she resigned herself to an afternoon in her office.

Almost done for the year, though, she thought; However, it did not give her the pleasure that the prospect of two months of peace and quiet usually did. There had been more reports of deaths, more ‘accidents’, more disappearances. The two months would not be spent making lesson plans, catching up on her Transfiguration Today subscription. No, this summer would be non-stop Order meetings, lookout posts and raids.

She had nearly missed the lone figure slouched over the far table in the Hall, but her eye caught him at the last moment. She stared for a moment, not sure of exactly what she was seeing. It was so strange to see one of them alone, especially this one that she wondered for a moment the possibility that he was using himself as bait. That the others would be waiting just inside the door to spring out at whomever happened to pass through next with whatever newly liquified substance they had managed to get into buckets.

She glanced around, listening intently as she quietly passed through the doors into the Great Hall, and to her relief- and slight confusion- was not met with the cries of miscreant victory, but with silence.

“Some tea, I think.” She said as she sat across from him, but he did not react. The tea, however, appeared upon a neat silver tray along with her favorite biscuits.

She poured them each a cup and set the saucer gently before him. “Sugar?” She held a cube with the dainty tongs out in his direction, but was once again met with stony silence. “Honestly, Potter- I have seen the gusto that your area of the table destroys the Halloween Feast.” She dropped the cube in and added one to her own.

She sipped in silence for a while, and found that- although present company was excluded- she had not heard a merrier racket from the student body in quite some time. The summer weather seemed to have brightened not just the sky.

Minerva turned her attention back to the uncharacteristically morose sixth year before her, and took another sip of tea, waiting patiently for him to speak.

@jamesxpctter 

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

a moment of weakness

10: My muse is having a vivid nightmare and is crying out in their sleep.

He was there.

She could see him, as he had always been, on top of the hill almost completely hidden by the mist; surrounded by so much green it took her breath away. This was where he belonged.

She was there beside him, and all of her fears, all of the doubts were completely gone. She watched as the sun broke through the clouds and shone down upon his curls. He found her eyes and smiled so brightly that she knew that for the rest of her life, she would never see anything so beautiful.

She belonged here too. It had to be true.

He pulls her into his arms and she allows herself to relax, as she should when she is home.

“Yeh lied to meh,”  His words barely register, as if they are spoken from a long way away. She opens her eyes, and tries to see his face, but he is holding her too tight.

“How could yeh not tell meh?” His fingers are clenched into the fabric of her muggle dress, twisting and pulling at her back. She tries to wrench herself away, but he is strong, he is too strong. Her ears are ringing.

“Wait...” She tries to calm him, comfort him, “You’re hurting me. Please, Dou-”“DON’T SAY MAH NAME.” He snarls in her ear, “Yeh don’t deserve ta say it, yeh filthy witch.”

The ringing grows louder, fading in and out upon the wind. Perhaps it’s not in her ears. Over his shoulder she can see the dark spots on the horizon, growing nearer as the ringing- no the siren- intensifies. She pulls at his shoulders, frantic and desperate to be free as his heavy arms.

“We have to go. Please-”

“Yeh lied to meh-”

“The planes are coming!”

“Yeh’ll never be free of meh.” 

“-we have to get to a shelter-”

“Were yeh even’a virgin?”

“Let me go!”

“Now yeh’ll sleep with anyone, won’t yeh- just as long as they-”

“STOP IT!”

“-don’t remind yeh of-”

“LET ME GO!!”

She wrenches from his grasp and tumbles down the rocky hill, the wind whipping about her as she hurtles towards her destination. She can hear his booming laughter from the hilltop when she finally -thankfully- comes to a halt. The cacophony of sirens are all around her and she manages to roll onto her back. He can see him, opening his arms to the heavens in welcome. The shiny black birds up ahead are dropping their shiny black bombs- the whine of their engines passing overhead. She watches as their painted faces fly above her. She can’t move- can’t raise her wand. The only thing she can do is witness- as her throat burns from screams she cannot hear- the hilltop alight with dazzling flame.

She startles awake suddenly and there are arms clenched around her. Someone is whispering something in her ear, but she cannot hear the words. The sirens still ring with every heartbeat and she scrambles to get free.

It’s her name. Someone is saying her name as she pushes and twists away from them. She is tangled in sheets and kicks desperately to be away- to be alone and know where she is. A hand smooths through her hair and despite her panic she turns towards the man in her bed.

He is alive. He’s here.

She pulls him closer, shaking so hard she is sure she’ll fall to pieces. A wand flares to life- the light nearly blinding her and she clenches her eyes shut in protest.

“Shhhh” His voice is soft, but different. She doesn’t know why. “You okay?”  She opens her eyes and finds his- a startling blue where she expected green. Alastor...Of course.

Her heart beat start to slow as the nightmare fades away and reality settles back in. “I-I’m okay” She knows he doesn’t believe her yet, even if she knows that she will be. They’re not all that uncommon- the nightmares. Usually, she wakes to find herself alone. “Sorry.” She mumbles.

“Don’t be, lass.” He kisses the top of her head and pulls her onto his chest, “Just glad you’re okay, now”.

She nods, feeling comforted by the press of warm skin against hers. The minutes wear on in sleepy silence and she thinks that he is falling back asleep. His heartbeat matches the footsteps of a steady soldier.

“What was it about?” He asks quietly and she forces herself to stay relaxed.

‘What I can’t get away from. Dougal. The looming feeling that I’ll never be happy again. Nazis. Just the usual.’

But her lips deny her confession. Instead, all she hears is a quiet,

“I can’t remember.”

@moodyauror

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Only the Moon Howls|| Minerva & Marlene.

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

 Minerva took a final look around the room as Marlene pinned her hair into place. Watched the anxious order members, knowing that by morning their small ranks could have sustained even more loss. She glanced back at Marlene at the mention of Animagi. While useful in a sticky situation, transforming would mean leaving Marlene without a partner to get out of danger. There were many options that she would exhaust before choosing that. Sometimes the size of her animagus form was helpful, although she couldn’t help but think that transforming into something larger would have been more helpful in this situation.

She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she and Marlene discussed plans of attack, and before long their arms were linked and the pounding in her ears was deafening. She took a steadying breath, felt the comforting reassurance of her wand in the palm of her hand and spun into the darkness. 

Minerva felt herself pulled along with Marlene, concentrating on the mission to come. The journey, though mere seconds, felt like an eternity as the adrenaline rushed through her system. They landed in a darkened alleyway and the tip of her wand lit immediately as she scanned the area.

It was quieter than she had expected. There were screams, but very far off. She heard someone shouting orders up ahead, and the light pouring into the alley at the end beckoned them toward a crowd. She moved forward with Marlene watching the rear. They reached a familiar street of muggle shops that were illuminated by orange tinged street lamps. A crowd of terrified looking witches and muggles alike were being escorted through the glass entrance of the hospital down the lane, and she could see order members and ministry officials hurrying away down the adjoining streets. 

“McKinnon!” A voice from down the street shouted. She couldn’t make out who it was in the dim light, “We need coverage in the west towards St. Cross. We have reports of muggles out in the streets and there is a pack forming in the north. They’ll be here in minutes.” 

[marlene-mckinncn-blog]

The sensation of pavement beneath her feet triggered an automatic response in Marlene and she spun in a tight circle, eyes rapidly adjusting to the new sources of light peppered across her vision. She sucked in a deep breath when nothing threatening immediately appeared. “Alright, Professor?” she glanced over her shoulder at Minerva. Head swiveling, Marlene traced the sound of new voice up the street. The familiar gleam of a badge identical to her own was immediately recognizable and she threw up a hand to signify she had heard.

“Shall we?” Marlene said, turning west and making her way down a side street. At certain intervals she was gesture towards the exposed brick rising above their heads and a coded message would flash across the rough surface before seemingly dissolving into the wall. Only someone who knew what to look for would be able to follow this trail. Memories of revealing a similar message on Alice’s wall temporarily leeched the moisture from Marlene’s throat.

To the west, the night sky bled out in a sickly shade of rust as some unseen fire belched out smoke. “Here?” Marlene proposed, stopping as she reached what appeared to be a natural choke point; the street she had been following spat out one a main thoroughfare, a road certain to get heavy traffic from both attackers and escapees. At that moment, it was eerily deserted but the too-near patter of footprints gave her cause. A small figure came wobbling around the corner, a child careening down the sidewalk clutching the hand of her younger brother.

“Here, come here,” she called out to them, already closing the gap and then crouching to look over each in turn. They stumbled into her easy enough. Wizarding children, instantly soothed by the familiarity of the symbol on her badge and the safety it represented. It was, however, the wand that gave them away. While neither could have possibly been over seven, the girl clutched a wand in one white-knuckled fist.

“M-my mum-” the child began to explain, catching Marlene’s gaze. The Auror nodded, cutting her off as she began to hold it out.

“You hold onto that, there,” Marlene replied, ushering the children down the alley behind Minerva, “your mum is going to be so happy you saved it for her. Now, you’ve used a portkey before? Yes? Excellent.” She glanced around, searching for some discarded bit of rubbish to use for a portkey when a sudden high-pitched shriek sent a jolt through her body. It wasn’t one of the children, but the sound bounced off the walls above their heads with such intensity that it couldn’t have been far.

“Minerva?” Marlene called out, voice calm even as she gripped her wand tighter and glanced at the older witch before breaking off a bit of a nearby sign in her desperation to create a portkey. The disorganized clatter of multiple footsteps grew distinct as it approached, punctuated by a sudden and vicious snarl.

[rr-professor-mcgonagall-blog]

Minerva stayed alert as Marlene calmed the children, her wand pointed in the direction that they had run from. As the cries shredded the foggy silence, Minerva stepped in front of Marlene and the children- searching the shadows desperately for the source.

The snarl came from a lane on their left and she hissed behind her, “Get them out of here!” fearing what noises they would hear next. Sure enough the pounding footsteps were soon drowned out by screams of terror, the rending of fabric and flesh and the sickening splash of blood upon pavestone. 

She rushed into the alleyway, her wand tip flaring brightly toward the source of the noise. The Beast snarled as it raised it’s bloodstained muzzle in their direction. Minverva didn’t hesitate when her wand light caught upon the dripping leaves of the creeping ivy along the stone wall. With a flourish the greenery burst from it’s perch, entwining the wolf in a net of tightening vines. She advanced as it pulled him flush against the wall, and waited until it’s flailing had calmed. It’s golden eye followed her as she moved towards it, tracking her as it’s lip pulled back in a snarl.

‘Petrificus Totalus’ she thought for extra measure and saw the stiffening of muscles beneath the plants’ hold.

The sound of a portkey activating flooded through the sudden silence and Marlene’s footsteps followed her into the lane.

“I’ve got one dead,” Minerva called, surveying the carnage behind the beast, the stillness that meant one thing. She could hear Marlene charming the entrance to the alleyway closed, and waited until her footsteps caught up with her.

“He’s not going anywhere, but we should secure the area. If another got in here, it might be able to figure out how to free him.” She pointed her wand skyward and sent up red sparks, hoping that someone would be along soon to collect the body.

“We need to be careful,” She said as she made her way through the darkened alley, “We wouldn’t have heard that one if it hadn’t found her first.”

@marlene-mckinncn