Post by Dragonlady on Aug 13, 2005 16:19:29 GMT -5
Yes, I know that this is late, but I hadn't visited the site in a while and didn't see the challenge until after the deadline had passed. However, an idea came to me and I couldn't resist acting on it. I'm not really happy with the way it turned out, but I figured I'd post it anyway, just for fun. Oh, and everyone is of course JKR's.
Meetings
“Minerva, go and head her off—tell her any story—“
--Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (US Hardcover, page 474)
Professor Minerva McGonagall was normally quite a level-headed person. Granted, she did have a temper—quite a volatile one, in fact—but she was usually able to control it without too much effort. She was able to think clearly in times of pressure and only very rarely did her emotions get the best of her.
At the moment, though, Professor Minerva McGonagall was feeling something that was perilously close to sheer panic.
Rushing down the stone staircase that led to the headmaster’s office, Minerva wracked her brains trying to think of a way to keep Dolores Umbridge away until the Weasley children and Harry Potter had left for Grimmauld Place. She did not consider herself creative at the best of times, and at the moment, attempting to come up with a plausible reason to delay Umbridge, she was coming up utterly blank.
She emerged into the corridor outside the entrance to the headmaster’s office and slowed her pace to a fast walk, still thinking furiously. Perhaps I could simply hide around a corner and hex her as she passes by, Minerva thought with a sense of desperation. Yes, that was what she would do. If she was quick enough, Umbridge wouldn’t know who or what had hit her. I’ll just hide around this corner, and…
Thump.
…or perhaps not. Minerva had walked straight into an irate Dolores Umbridge, though the High Inquisitor’s expression smoothed into a fake-looking, sugary smile as soon as she saw who she had run into.
“Goodness, Minerva,” Umbridge said sweetly, “isn’t it a bit late to be wandering the corridors?”
“I see that hasn’t stopped you, Dolores,” Minerva said coldly, straightening her glasses. Think of a story, think of a story…
Though her eyes had gone hard, Umbridge gave a high, shrill laugh. “It seems that some of your Gryffindors have been wandering the corridors after hours. I am here to report their disappearance to the headmaster. You really should have alarms in your chambers to alert you when something like this happens, you know…why, think of the children’s parents, and how alarmed they would be if—“
“As a matter of fact, I do have alarms in my chambers in case of just such an event as this,” Minerva said from between clenched teeth, still frantically trying to come up with an excuse that would keep Umbridge right where she was. “However, I have just come from leaving a newly-finished report under the headmaster’s door, so my chambers have obviously been unoccupied for the past quarter-hour.”
Umbridge smiled, a smile that instantly put Minerva on guard. It was not the fake smile that she had previously been wearing, and Minerva wondered uneasily what she had said to put that expression on the other woman’s face. “Leaving a report, you say? Are you quite sure you were not in a late-night...meeting...with your supervisor?” She looked Minerva up and down, gazing pointedly at the nightclothes she was wearing under her loosely-tied tartan dressing gown.
Why, that toad! Minerva went red with fury as she caught the meaning of Umbridge’s questions. If the situation had not been so incredibly urgent, she would have quite happily told Umbridge just exactly what she could do with her insinuations. As it was, she still had no idea what story she was going to come up with to keep the High Inquisitor away from the headmaster’s office.
And then the plan hit her, in all its simple brilliance. She was to keep Umbridge away from the office, but she could do that by picking a fight just as easily as by telling a story, couldn’t she? She had been itching to put Umbridge in her place for months, and this was the perfect opportunity.
“Well, Dolores,” Minerva said with a tight smile, “you are the expert on late-night…meetings…with supervisors, aren’t you?”
The smile dropped off Umbridge’s face in an instant. “I beg your pardon?”
“It seems to me that you have been receiving an inordinate amount of communications from the Minister lately.” Minerva was beginning to enjoy herself. “What you neglected to tell us was under what circumstances you received these communications. I have a number of friends at the Ministry who had no knowledge of them, so it must have been quite a private…affair.”
Umbridge went red. “Minerva, dear, exactly what are you implying? Of course the Minister doesn’t dispense valuable information to just anybody--”
Raising her eyebrows, Minerva interrupted, “Dear me, Dolores, you’re quite red—are you sure you aren’t ill?” Not waiting for a reply, she continued, “If no one knew about them, you must have received the Minister’s…communications…in person.”
The High Inquisitor was now sheet-white. “You have no proof!” she burst out.
Minerva blinked. I couldn’t possibly have been right…good heavens! Umbridge and Fudge? Great Merlin, what was the Minister thinking?
Umbridge backpedaled rapidly upon seeing the surprise that the Deputy Headmistress couldn’t conceal. She spluttered, going alternately red and white. “I--that is to say--”
“Good evening, Professor McGonagall, Professor Umbridge.” Both women whirled to face Albus Dumbledore, who had just come around the corner. He was looking at them inquisitively. “I heard your voices from down the corridor. Is there a problem?”
“I was just telling Minerva that some of her Gryffindors are out of bed, Professor Dumbledore,” Umbridge said, trying and failing to muster her usual fake smile.
Dumbledore peered at them both from over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “I assure you, no rule-breaking is going on,” he replied mildly. “St. Mungo’s Flooed to notify me of an emergency in the Weasley family, so I of course sent the Weasley children…and Mr. Potter, who is very close to the Weasleys…to the hospital.”
“I see,” Umbridge responded, regaining some of her composure, though she was still noticeably flustered. “Well, then, I shan’t keep you. Have a productive meeting, Minerva, Professor Dumbledore,” she added spitefully.
Umbridge hurried back down the corridor in the opposite direction from the headmaster’s office. The moment that she was out of earshot, Minerva turned to the headmaster. “Have the children gone, Albus?”
“They have arrived at Grimmauld Place safely,” he reassured her.
Minerva let out a breath, relieved. “I was worried that they would be discovered.”
Albus patted her on the shoulder. “Your diversion was quite successful. Though I am a bit perplexed…what meeting was she referring to? The only meeting I have tomorrow is with Severus—“ He cut off abruptly as Minerva stumbled and nearly fell, grasping her arm to steady her. “Are you all right, my dear?”
“Quite all right, thank you,” Minerva replied, looking down so he wouldn’t see how red she was. Please, stop the images… “And I haven’t the faintest idea what she was talking about.”
Meetings
“Minerva, go and head her off—tell her any story—“
--Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (US Hardcover, page 474)
Professor Minerva McGonagall was normally quite a level-headed person. Granted, she did have a temper—quite a volatile one, in fact—but she was usually able to control it without too much effort. She was able to think clearly in times of pressure and only very rarely did her emotions get the best of her.
At the moment, though, Professor Minerva McGonagall was feeling something that was perilously close to sheer panic.
Rushing down the stone staircase that led to the headmaster’s office, Minerva wracked her brains trying to think of a way to keep Dolores Umbridge away until the Weasley children and Harry Potter had left for Grimmauld Place. She did not consider herself creative at the best of times, and at the moment, attempting to come up with a plausible reason to delay Umbridge, she was coming up utterly blank.
She emerged into the corridor outside the entrance to the headmaster’s office and slowed her pace to a fast walk, still thinking furiously. Perhaps I could simply hide around a corner and hex her as she passes by, Minerva thought with a sense of desperation. Yes, that was what she would do. If she was quick enough, Umbridge wouldn’t know who or what had hit her. I’ll just hide around this corner, and…
Thump.
…or perhaps not. Minerva had walked straight into an irate Dolores Umbridge, though the High Inquisitor’s expression smoothed into a fake-looking, sugary smile as soon as she saw who she had run into.
“Goodness, Minerva,” Umbridge said sweetly, “isn’t it a bit late to be wandering the corridors?”
“I see that hasn’t stopped you, Dolores,” Minerva said coldly, straightening her glasses. Think of a story, think of a story…
Though her eyes had gone hard, Umbridge gave a high, shrill laugh. “It seems that some of your Gryffindors have been wandering the corridors after hours. I am here to report their disappearance to the headmaster. You really should have alarms in your chambers to alert you when something like this happens, you know…why, think of the children’s parents, and how alarmed they would be if—“
“As a matter of fact, I do have alarms in my chambers in case of just such an event as this,” Minerva said from between clenched teeth, still frantically trying to come up with an excuse that would keep Umbridge right where she was. “However, I have just come from leaving a newly-finished report under the headmaster’s door, so my chambers have obviously been unoccupied for the past quarter-hour.”
Umbridge smiled, a smile that instantly put Minerva on guard. It was not the fake smile that she had previously been wearing, and Minerva wondered uneasily what she had said to put that expression on the other woman’s face. “Leaving a report, you say? Are you quite sure you were not in a late-night...meeting...with your supervisor?” She looked Minerva up and down, gazing pointedly at the nightclothes she was wearing under her loosely-tied tartan dressing gown.
Why, that toad! Minerva went red with fury as she caught the meaning of Umbridge’s questions. If the situation had not been so incredibly urgent, she would have quite happily told Umbridge just exactly what she could do with her insinuations. As it was, she still had no idea what story she was going to come up with to keep the High Inquisitor away from the headmaster’s office.
And then the plan hit her, in all its simple brilliance. She was to keep Umbridge away from the office, but she could do that by picking a fight just as easily as by telling a story, couldn’t she? She had been itching to put Umbridge in her place for months, and this was the perfect opportunity.
“Well, Dolores,” Minerva said with a tight smile, “you are the expert on late-night…meetings…with supervisors, aren’t you?”
The smile dropped off Umbridge’s face in an instant. “I beg your pardon?”
“It seems to me that you have been receiving an inordinate amount of communications from the Minister lately.” Minerva was beginning to enjoy herself. “What you neglected to tell us was under what circumstances you received these communications. I have a number of friends at the Ministry who had no knowledge of them, so it must have been quite a private…affair.”
Umbridge went red. “Minerva, dear, exactly what are you implying? Of course the Minister doesn’t dispense valuable information to just anybody--”
Raising her eyebrows, Minerva interrupted, “Dear me, Dolores, you’re quite red—are you sure you aren’t ill?” Not waiting for a reply, she continued, “If no one knew about them, you must have received the Minister’s…communications…in person.”
The High Inquisitor was now sheet-white. “You have no proof!” she burst out.
Minerva blinked. I couldn’t possibly have been right…good heavens! Umbridge and Fudge? Great Merlin, what was the Minister thinking?
Umbridge backpedaled rapidly upon seeing the surprise that the Deputy Headmistress couldn’t conceal. She spluttered, going alternately red and white. “I--that is to say--”
“Good evening, Professor McGonagall, Professor Umbridge.” Both women whirled to face Albus Dumbledore, who had just come around the corner. He was looking at them inquisitively. “I heard your voices from down the corridor. Is there a problem?”
“I was just telling Minerva that some of her Gryffindors are out of bed, Professor Dumbledore,” Umbridge said, trying and failing to muster her usual fake smile.
Dumbledore peered at them both from over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “I assure you, no rule-breaking is going on,” he replied mildly. “St. Mungo’s Flooed to notify me of an emergency in the Weasley family, so I of course sent the Weasley children…and Mr. Potter, who is very close to the Weasleys…to the hospital.”
“I see,” Umbridge responded, regaining some of her composure, though she was still noticeably flustered. “Well, then, I shan’t keep you. Have a productive meeting, Minerva, Professor Dumbledore,” she added spitefully.
Umbridge hurried back down the corridor in the opposite direction from the headmaster’s office. The moment that she was out of earshot, Minerva turned to the headmaster. “Have the children gone, Albus?”
“They have arrived at Grimmauld Place safely,” he reassured her.
Minerva let out a breath, relieved. “I was worried that they would be discovered.”
Albus patted her on the shoulder. “Your diversion was quite successful. Though I am a bit perplexed…what meeting was she referring to? The only meeting I have tomorrow is with Severus—“ He cut off abruptly as Minerva stumbled and nearly fell, grasping her arm to steady her. “Are you all right, my dear?”
“Quite all right, thank you,” Minerva replied, looking down so he wouldn’t see how red she was. Please, stop the images… “And I haven’t the faintest idea what she was talking about.”
