9:15 pm

Wind was whipping viciously outside the window, causing a loose pane to rattle and creating an extremely annoying noise. There was a fire roaring happily in the grate, helping to dispel the chill on the cool February evening. Chairs and comfortable couches filled the room, interspersed with several mismatched tables. The Hogwarts staff room was always busy with activity – being one of the few places not teeming with teenagers. A place where adults could do adult things – like read a titillating novel or gossip about the students.

A copy of the Daily Prophet sat discarded on one of the tables, the headline standing out: “McGonagall Missing”. Tired of seeing her own aging face staring up at her, the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry snatched up the parchment, crumpled it into a ball, and chucked it into the fire. She had honestly never been more insulted in her life – it was simply no one’s business what she did with her personal time, and saying “McGonagall is McGon-a-gone” wasn’t witty or funny.

Though Minerva felt very strongly about keeping her own secrets, she couldn’t deny that the paper had a point. Because of her absence, fourteen students were taken – some who would never return. That was on Minerva and no doubt about it. Though the children weren’t taken from the castle itself, Professor McGonagall was sure that had she been there none of this would have happened. Was Hogwarts still safe? If people were so bold as to kidnap her charges from practically the castle’s back yard, how long would it be before they managed to circumvent the school’s magical boundaries? They’d already managed to turn the lake into blood – though Minerva knew that that was only done to scare everyone. What she hoped more than anything else, was for no one to know that it had worked. Minerva McGonagall was severely shaken. 

The Headmistress heaved a deep, mournful sigh and brought a cup of very strong tea to her lips. Though Minerva wasn’t much of a drinker, she severely needed a stout shot of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey – an urge she fought. They would all need to keep clear heads with the situation at hand.

“What are we to do?” She asked quietly, showing a rare unguarded vulnerability.

She was exhausted in a way that people who had perfectly healthy bodies could never be. To her bones, she ached. Her eyes felt perpetually puffy from the lack of adequate sleep. Wizarding medicine, though superior to muggle medicine, wasn't a cure-all. The abduction of Trumble, the kidnappings, the blood lake, the death of students who had been under their care-- it weighed heavily on her small shoulders as well as the shoulders of everybody at Hogwarts.

Mai's green eyes met Minerva's.  She had sent the older witch some care packages over the last couple months, and the recent events couldn't have been good for her health either.

"We're figuring it out." She replied. They always figured it out-- one step at a time. By the time one issue was resolved, a new disaster took its' place. This, this kidnapping-- it wasn't resolvable. They couldn't have predicted portkeys. However, they could increase defensive training in their students and staff. They could provide more staff in Hogsmeade during the weekends. They could listen to the visions of reliable seers in order to prepare.

"At least, I hope we're figuring it out." Were they even doing anything right? "I think, we need to take a closer look at the staff and who we've been hiring." Mai suggested, "I think we may need to call for an investigation of the staff, to..." She let out an exasperated noise. She didn't want to distrust anybody she worked with. "The blood in the lake. Someone here must've done it. We increased security after the kidnappings."

She held such a great staff: competent, confident, seasoned witches and wizards, it was often easy for Minerva to realize that sometimes even they needed support and validation. Minerva had rarely, if ever, seen their counselor so out of sorts – it didn’t suit Maiko in the slightest. If the headmistress were being honest with herself, there were very few times in her own lengthy life that she felt so drained.

They were doing all they could – they were dealing. What people failed to understand, Minerva included, was that progress wasn’t immediate. It took time to fix mistakes; it took determination and a headstrong attitude. Though Minerva wished she had more time, at least she was confident that she had a castle full of people who were full of the latter. Maiko’s suggestion, however, through Minerva’s own nagging suspicions into the spotlight. She knew, also, that Maiko would never have made such an accusation if she hadn’t already looked at the situation from every point of view available to her. Counselor Biladeau-Yukawa wasn’t one to speak ill of her colleagues.

“I understand your concerns,” Minerva began slowly – choosing her words extremely carefully. Minerva had made a huge mistake in shaking off Maiko’s visions and for that she was sorry, the last thing she needed was to offend Maiko further. “I trust our staff, though I agree we should keep a more diligent eye on them. Though in this case, I feel a formal investigation will simply throw the reputation of Hogwarts into more question – something I’m not willing to do.”

“And though we increased the security, there is still every chance that an enchantment was placed on the lake to only activate at a certain time, or when a certain event happens. It could have been a student – if they were properly trained. There are still just too many questions and not enough answers. Finding those answers should be our next move – before we start accusing our colleagues of such a heinous act,” She said – though soothingly and without even the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Truthfully, she had no answers and no way of reaching any either.

Minerva had a point. A formal investigation would damage Hogwarts' reputation. However, what was more important? The safety of the students, or the reputation of the school? The two were inseparably intertwined. Still, she saw Minerva's point of view and nodded briefly-- not quite an agreement, but an indication that she would think on it.

"Have we heard anything new from the parents?" Mai asked wearily, dropping the subject of interrogations for now. Mr. Zamperia had been quite furious and difficult to deal with when he discovered his daughter had been missing. And he hadn't been the only one. After the students were found to have been within the ministry the entire time, his focus had stopped being on the school. He was likely, targeting the ministry now. Those poor aurors. Mai winced in sympathy for Adon and Bertie. This entire situation had been hellish for everybody involved.

By the counselor’s response (or lack thereof), Minerva could tell that Maiko wasn’t completely happy with the Headmistress’s course of action – which upset Minerva more than she was willing to admit. Maiko was one of Minerva’s most trusted advisors and though the Hufflepuff graduate wasn’t likely to hold a grudge, Minerva couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. After all, could these harsh times not have been avoided had Minerva simply listened when Maiko had warned them all?

Perhaps, perhaps not, she thought, but either way divination and true second sight was very hard to rely on. Interpretation played a huge role in such obscure branches of magic and Minerva couldn’t bring herself to put her wand in the hand of a questionable situation. Not only that, but even with concrete prophesies how could one change the fate as it’s been spoken? Trying to direct the way visions play out was foolish – they would work as they are supposed to, with or without interference.

“Nothing new, though I’ve taken to charming my desk to be fireproof to save the scorch marks left by howlers,” a slight rise in the corners of Minerva’s mouth was the only indication that this was not as bad as it seemed. Being the Headmistress of Hogwarts meant that she was sent at least one screaming letter a week, sometimes more. True, they were arriving daily now and Minerva was just glad that no one had sent her a curse or hex.

Adjusting her glasses, Minerva continued, “I daresay Zephyr has her hands full at the Ministry these days. Our community has seen too much evil lately and it’s going to create a mass panic if it continues. None of us can afford that,”

Then, in a much more subdued voice, “What about the students? How are they handling things, in your opinion?”

Howlers from angry parents. Most of the staff was receiving them, but Minerva was certainly getting the brunt of it. Mai managed to give her a humorless smile.  She was right-- the community had seen too much evil recently. People were poisoned at St. Mungos-- more than several of the students had lost somebody. After the Leaky Cauldron explosion, Mai couldn't bring herself to step inside a bar. In fact, she had a difficult time even going into St. Mungos after the last time she was there. Bodily autonomy was important to her, and feeling like she had a degree of control over what happened to it was critical. She wasn't sure if it was one of those side effects of being chronically ill, or if it was an effect of the war. It had ended long ago, but life had a way of making sure she remembered.

"The mass panic has already happened." Mai replied, "It's--" She took a moment to collect herself, picking up her neglected tea and taking a sip.

The students. How were they handling it? Suddenly she didn't want her tea anymore. Mai placed the cup back in its' saucer and gave Minerva a long, wary, weary look.

"They're capable." She finally responded. "It's not easy for them. It's not going to be easy." There were scars that would never go away-- this was a hurt they'd carry with them for the rest of their lives. "They'll adapt because they have to. All we can do is... Support them." Minerva had seen this before. She'd lived through both of the wars. She understood how trauma impacted students, directly and indirectly.

"I hoped, that we were done with this." Mai felt small and weak, "That we could protect them the way better than..." better than the students of her generation. 

Maiko was right – mass panic had already happened, but Minerva could take no comfort in thinking the worst was behind them. That was a silly notion the Headmistress simply couldn’t entertain. At least during the first and second wars there was an obvious enemy. No matter how evil or impossible to defeat – knowing where the danger came from was a comfort in itself. Their new enemy was like a many headed Hydra, cut off one head and two even more vile ones grow from the stump.

There wasn’t an enemy the community could rally against, causing panic to spread and grow. It was hard to stay calm when you didn’t even know if your own neighbor was against you and your happiness. It showed even within the school’s walls, as made evident by Maiko’s suggestion to investigate the staff. The behavior was normal, nothing out of the ordinary, yet it made things much more complicated when trying to protect and serve.

“We are protecting them, Mai,” She said softly – a bit stung at her colleague’s words. “Without our help and training, we would have seen more fatalities. Perhaps this isn’t the same war as the one’s we’ve faced before – but we are in a battle. The best way to win a battle is to ensure every single person can defend themselves,” Had it not been for the quick thinking and skill of those students kidnapped, none would have survived. As it was, Minerva felt sure that some of those students were even then wishing that they hadn’t made it out of the department.

Some wounds were just too deep – and like a cursed wound, never stopped festering and bleeding. “Sadly, I don’t think we’ll ever be done with any of this. There will always be evil in this world and it will always be up to people like us to keep it at bay,” The headmistress shook her head and took another sip of her tea. It seemed more bitter than normal.

It was true. They would never be done with this. It was a project they would have to continually work on. There was no ending point, and as soon as you give up, you become complicit. The commitment to the students they made when they got their jobs here at Hogwarts was not one to be taken lightly. In fact, Mai was determined that the commitment she held to them would last long after graduation. After all, just because someone was legally an adult didn't mean that they no longer required support and solidarity.

"You're right." Mai conceded, "The work will never end." She let out a small sigh, "But we can only hope that it's worth it." She paused, hesitating. "I really think it is worth it. Or at least, I want to think it is. If I tell it to myself enough, it'll make it true, right?" She flashed Minerva a dry, tight smile.

"We're... Resilient." Mai continued, "By we, I mean... People. People in general." She had no idea where she was going with that, but found some comfort in it. 

For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile found it's way to Minerva's lips. It wasn't forced, or brought upon by a sudden moment of humor, but a calming - cooling smile that seemed to make her heart a little less heavy, if even for a moment. What Maiko had said was one of the philosophies she'd tried to live by for her entire life. It was easier when Albus had been around, a man of such strength and goodness, it was no wonder he could pull the entire wizarding community toward him - even when some of them hated him. There were some big shoes for Minerva to fill, and she hadn't felt the pressure this much in ages.

Getting older tended to make the witch more cautious, yet more fierce, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Another long sigh escaped the headmistress's lips before she took another healthy gulp of tea, "Mai, I don't think I tell you enough how grateful I am to have you here at Hogwarts," She paused, "The work you do here is invaluable, and I appreciate it so much, but beyond that, I thank you for being here for me," Minerva was just upset enough to show her truly vulnerable side to the school's counselor, "Without your boost of confidence and cups of tea, I'm not sure if I could have made it this far,"

"Can we perhaps talk about something we can do?" she asked, trying to steer the waters away from such mopey areas. "I'm thinking of hosting an honorary feast, in memorandum, do you think that would be too upsetting so soon?"