Post by aptasi on Oct 31, 2008 8:28:34 GMT -5
Summary: McGonagall-St Mungo’s fic. Includes Umbridge confrontation. Mildly, ok majorly, ADMM. Not too angsty, mostly drama, I think.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Harry Potter. This story is written merely for recreational purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. Also, parts of this are somewhat cliché. Ye be warned
Broken Morning:
The sunlight streamed into her room, flooding every room with radiant light. Minerva McGonagall opened her eyes, tried to move, and winced. Everything hurt. She could not draw breath and her chest felt as if it were in a vise, squeezed horribly, painfully, tightly. Her head pounded, making the rays of sunlight she perceived dance and spin in bizarre patterns.
Then, she remembered all of it. Her idiotic charge at the ministry officials left her children perilously alone. Everything was in Mr. Potter’s hands now. Merlin, it always had to come back to her Gryffindors. Once, just once, it would be nice if Hufflepuff could pick up the slack.
Minerva was tired and uncomfortable. She desperately missed her husband, Albus Dumbledore, in times like these. However, as a true Gryffindor, she knew this was something she had to do alone, if lying in a hospital bed could be considered action. Albus would never risk his cover to come here. And if he does, I will hex him into next century. She thought wryly.
She had been ready to go with him when he left Hogwarts. The very thought of that toad drawing a wand on her husband made her blood surge. Albus had restrained her, instructed her to remain at Hogwarts, and kept her Celtic temper in check. Ironic that there had been no one to restrain her with Hagrid’s arrest; she would have vastly preferred to fight for Albus. Hagrid was a good man and kind, and his treatment had been an unbearable injustice, but she knew whom she loved.
Minerva felt her back begin to cramp up and tried to adjust her position so she could rest. Bad idea. The slightest movement sent shooting pains through her body. Nerve damage, wonderful. The scientist in her realized. This is going to be a long recovery. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the intrusive sun so she could fall back asleep. She tried to recall how comfortable she felt as she fell asleep in Albus’ arms, and temporarily succeeded in dozing off.
Her efforts were, however, short lived, for the door came open with a resounding bang. Minerva suppressed the impulse to wince at the sound, when she saw who had arrived.
“Good morning Dolores.” She said cheerfully, false cheerful, that is.
Umbridge walked to Minerva’s bed, flanked by two goons, probably ministry officials. She stood over Minerva, waiting for a reaction. Minerva, loath to help Dolores, closed her eyes and ignored her. “Hem, Hem.” Dolores enunciated.
“Are you speaking Dolores?” Minerva asked.
“Minerva,” She began in a sickly pink tone, “How are you?”
“I’ve been hit by four stunners directly in the chest.” Minerva responded dryly, “Next question.”
Dolores frowned for a moment and then replied coolly “We need your signature on disciplinary records for Gryffindor students. You will provide it.”
“Did it ever occur to you,” Minerva asked, “That stunning an unarmed member of your faculty into a coma would not do wonders for her motor control. Interesting miscalculation, Dolores, but then, who would think that four stunners might affect my ability to move my arm? I am sorry, but you were wrong. I cannot sign anything, and I’m very glad.” She would not help Dolores harm her students, no indeed. That foul blood quill had been horrible enough. Someday, she would see Dolores punished for that, as harshly as possible, but for now, all she could do was stand her ground. She would sooner die than help the ‘High Inquisitor’.
“Someone can hold your arm for you to sign.”
“No” Minerva answered immediately, glaring at Dolores and tensing all over, painfully.
“What?” Dolores answered perkily.
“Do you require a dictionary, Dolores?” Minerva asked sternly.
“I simply asked on whose authority you felt you could refuse.” Dolores simpered in a condescending tone.
“My own.” Minerva snapped, feeling her chest contract painfully.
Dolores leaned in so the ministry men could not hear her and whispered, “If I had known you’d survive the four stunners would have been five or six.”
“I’m not afraid of that. Voldemort doesn’t shoot stunners, you know.” Minerva answered, making no effort to keep her voice down.
“Nurse!” Dolores called. A woman in a Saint Mungo’s uniform entered the ward. “This woman is raving and completely unstable. The ministry requires you to keep her restrained and under guard. As painkillers seem to worsen her condition, you must not give her any of those. We will provide a list of potions that she is to be given, so that we can help her through her dreadful lapse into insanity, poor lady.”
Dolores then leaned down and whispered to Minerva once more, “Potions with a few little additions, Minerva. You can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“Nice try.” Minerva refused, in her sternest teacher voice, knowing she could only make her situation worse but wanting to spite Umbridge.
“I can make this hurt Minerva,” Dolores informed her in her sweetest voice with a wide grin. “I might even improve your mind. You are insane after all, believing the ramblings of a boy and an eccentric old wizard.”
“That’s the boy who lived and the greatest eccentric old wizard of the millennium to you, toad.” Minerva retorted.
“No one will ever believe a word you say again; when they hear the way you’ll be ranting in a few minutes, Minerva. I can have them do anything I want.” Umbridge whispered, “Anything at all.”
“I never doubt it.” Minerva replied icily.
At that moment, a team of healers and others rushed in and began to strap Minerva to the bed. “Make the restraints good and tight.” The toad ordered shrilly, “She is completely delusional and possibly homicidal. Start her out on a strong double dose of the potions. Then we will see. ”
Someone wheeled in a muggle IV, with a sinister yellow potion in the bag and several other bags in different glowing colors. A nurse pinned her arm to the bed and slipped in the needle. Whatever the potion was must have been hallucinogenic because Minerva saw colors swirl around her and form themselves into shapes she knew should not be there.
The last thing Minerva heard, before drug-induced madness took hold of her, was Dolores telling her, “I win, Minerva.”
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Harry Potter. This story is written merely for recreational purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. Also, parts of this are somewhat cliché. Ye be warned
Broken Morning:
The sunlight streamed into her room, flooding every room with radiant light. Minerva McGonagall opened her eyes, tried to move, and winced. Everything hurt. She could not draw breath and her chest felt as if it were in a vise, squeezed horribly, painfully, tightly. Her head pounded, making the rays of sunlight she perceived dance and spin in bizarre patterns.
Then, she remembered all of it. Her idiotic charge at the ministry officials left her children perilously alone. Everything was in Mr. Potter’s hands now. Merlin, it always had to come back to her Gryffindors. Once, just once, it would be nice if Hufflepuff could pick up the slack.
Minerva was tired and uncomfortable. She desperately missed her husband, Albus Dumbledore, in times like these. However, as a true Gryffindor, she knew this was something she had to do alone, if lying in a hospital bed could be considered action. Albus would never risk his cover to come here. And if he does, I will hex him into next century. She thought wryly.
She had been ready to go with him when he left Hogwarts. The very thought of that toad drawing a wand on her husband made her blood surge. Albus had restrained her, instructed her to remain at Hogwarts, and kept her Celtic temper in check. Ironic that there had been no one to restrain her with Hagrid’s arrest; she would have vastly preferred to fight for Albus. Hagrid was a good man and kind, and his treatment had been an unbearable injustice, but she knew whom she loved.
Minerva felt her back begin to cramp up and tried to adjust her position so she could rest. Bad idea. The slightest movement sent shooting pains through her body. Nerve damage, wonderful. The scientist in her realized. This is going to be a long recovery. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the intrusive sun so she could fall back asleep. She tried to recall how comfortable she felt as she fell asleep in Albus’ arms, and temporarily succeeded in dozing off.
Her efforts were, however, short lived, for the door came open with a resounding bang. Minerva suppressed the impulse to wince at the sound, when she saw who had arrived.
“Good morning Dolores.” She said cheerfully, false cheerful, that is.
Umbridge walked to Minerva’s bed, flanked by two goons, probably ministry officials. She stood over Minerva, waiting for a reaction. Minerva, loath to help Dolores, closed her eyes and ignored her. “Hem, Hem.” Dolores enunciated.
“Are you speaking Dolores?” Minerva asked.
“Minerva,” She began in a sickly pink tone, “How are you?”
“I’ve been hit by four stunners directly in the chest.” Minerva responded dryly, “Next question.”
Dolores frowned for a moment and then replied coolly “We need your signature on disciplinary records for Gryffindor students. You will provide it.”
“Did it ever occur to you,” Minerva asked, “That stunning an unarmed member of your faculty into a coma would not do wonders for her motor control. Interesting miscalculation, Dolores, but then, who would think that four stunners might affect my ability to move my arm? I am sorry, but you were wrong. I cannot sign anything, and I’m very glad.” She would not help Dolores harm her students, no indeed. That foul blood quill had been horrible enough. Someday, she would see Dolores punished for that, as harshly as possible, but for now, all she could do was stand her ground. She would sooner die than help the ‘High Inquisitor’.
“Someone can hold your arm for you to sign.”
“No” Minerva answered immediately, glaring at Dolores and tensing all over, painfully.
“What?” Dolores answered perkily.
“Do you require a dictionary, Dolores?” Minerva asked sternly.
“I simply asked on whose authority you felt you could refuse.” Dolores simpered in a condescending tone.
“My own.” Minerva snapped, feeling her chest contract painfully.
Dolores leaned in so the ministry men could not hear her and whispered, “If I had known you’d survive the four stunners would have been five or six.”
“I’m not afraid of that. Voldemort doesn’t shoot stunners, you know.” Minerva answered, making no effort to keep her voice down.
“Nurse!” Dolores called. A woman in a Saint Mungo’s uniform entered the ward. “This woman is raving and completely unstable. The ministry requires you to keep her restrained and under guard. As painkillers seem to worsen her condition, you must not give her any of those. We will provide a list of potions that she is to be given, so that we can help her through her dreadful lapse into insanity, poor lady.”
Dolores then leaned down and whispered to Minerva once more, “Potions with a few little additions, Minerva. You can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“Nice try.” Minerva refused, in her sternest teacher voice, knowing she could only make her situation worse but wanting to spite Umbridge.
“I can make this hurt Minerva,” Dolores informed her in her sweetest voice with a wide grin. “I might even improve your mind. You are insane after all, believing the ramblings of a boy and an eccentric old wizard.”
“That’s the boy who lived and the greatest eccentric old wizard of the millennium to you, toad.” Minerva retorted.
“No one will ever believe a word you say again; when they hear the way you’ll be ranting in a few minutes, Minerva. I can have them do anything I want.” Umbridge whispered, “Anything at all.”
“I never doubt it.” Minerva replied icily.
At that moment, a team of healers and others rushed in and began to strap Minerva to the bed. “Make the restraints good and tight.” The toad ordered shrilly, “She is completely delusional and possibly homicidal. Start her out on a strong double dose of the potions. Then we will see. ”
Someone wheeled in a muggle IV, with a sinister yellow potion in the bag and several other bags in different glowing colors. A nurse pinned her arm to the bed and slipped in the needle. Whatever the potion was must have been hallucinogenic because Minerva saw colors swirl around her and form themselves into shapes she knew should not be there.
The last thing Minerva heard, before drug-induced madness took hold of her, was Dolores telling her, “I win, Minerva.”
that was soo sweet!! I loved it!!! that was wonderful!!!! ;D