the Headmistress and an Owl

[minerva rose mcgonagall]

Minerva examined the screech owl in the cage in front of her. It looked surprisingly sturdy, despite its filthy cage. She would definitely be having a word with the owner about proper owl care before she left the store. The Headmistress of Hogwarts couldn’t purchase a School Owl that wasn’t healthy and strong, after all.

Minerva moved on to look at the Great Grays. Bigger owls always held up better, especially with the amount of work a Hogwarts owl usually had to do. Minerva supposed she ought to have let Hagrid do the buying, but she had always liked owls, and it was nice to get away from Hogwarts now and then, much as she loved it. And Minerva hadn’t had a chance to get away in quite awhile.

She usually spent her summers in her childhood home on the wild Orkney island of Kirkdunney, but in the two years since the war ended, she had not been able to leave Hogwarts for longer than a weekend at a time. First there had been the funerals, many of them held at Hogwarts itself, then the rebuilding of the school, which was all the more complicated as it had to be done during term. After all, Minerva could hardly have shut down the school for another year, not when most of her students would have to repeat a year as it was.

That lost year had caused other problems as well. None of the Muggleborns who ought to have been First Years that last year of the war had received letters, so they were all a year behind. And of course, no amount of physical rebuilding would change the fact that a brand new wall could not possess the same ancient magic that the rest of Hogwarts did. The kind of magic that comes from existing for centuries in a place where magic is everywhere, all the time. Minerva supposed it would fall to her to deal with that. The problem with inheriting a job from Albus Dumbledore is that quite a lot of things were expected of you that might not actually be part of the job description. Minerva thought wryly.

She spotted a barn owl that looked particularly lively and went over to examine it. Once she purchased this owl, she would have enough owls for this year’s letters, not that they needed to be sent out quite yet. Minerva thought she might go have a look at the self-updating Hogwarts list kept in a place of honor in Albus’s office – no, my office Minerva corrected herself. She loved to see the names of the first years, a complete year of students, Muggleborns included, who would get to attend Hogwarts in a time of peace. This year’s students would also get to attend Hogwarts with no holes in the wall and ceilings, a privilege that was not to be taken for granted.

Perhaps she would also peek at the newest names on the list, the names that proved that the Wizarding World was rebuilding not just its buildings but also its population, one baby at a time. She would look again at the name Victoire Weasley, added on her birth on the second anniversary of the victory of the forces of good. Minerva smiled to herself, and then went up to the counter to ask to have a closer look at the Barn owl.

word count: 565
tags: open

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[heathcote iggy barbary]

Heathcote needed to return an owl. He’d woken up the morning before last to a rather annoying sound of a screech owl doing what it did best- screech. Granted, the use of the word ‘morning’ was rather loose, that it was perhaps closer to sun-set then it was sun-rise but the man needed his sleep and anything that disturbed that just had to go. Of course, he was just so busy the last two days he’d completely forgotten about returning the owl. Only when it screeched again that morning (or afternoon) did he remember the mission. And what a mission it would be. For one, he couldn’t remember how he had acquired the owl in question. All he could remember was having a drink or ten at the Leaky Cauldron before stumbling down Diagon Alley, looking for something to entertain him. Then the next thing he knew, he was waking up to the blasted owl.

Through his powers of deduction, he came to the conclusion that he’d have to have gotten it from Eeylop’s. Question was, how? It had been fairly late when he had been stumbling his way along the Alley. Were things even open at that time of the night? He wasn’t all that sure. The unhappy truth of the matter was that he most probably stole the owl. Which, you can imagine how completely awkward that made the returning process. Especially considering the fact he had no story or explanation. And trust me, people often looked at you with such a look of distaste when you explained that you were drunk and couldn’t remember. Heh. At least the other band members had found the situation rawringly amusing. Then most of them found just about any of Heath’s drunken escapades funny. He often liked to pretend he was offended by that, but truth be told he secretly revelled in making his band-mates laugh.

Running his free hand though the unnatural spikes of blonde hair that stood, tussled on his head, the man glanced down at the cage in his other hand. “Play it cool, little furry man.” He nodded towards the owl. Truth be told, apart from the noise, the owl was alright. He didn’t mind having him around. Really though, he wasn’t the best guy to be owning a pet. The man couldn’t even remember if he’d fed himself some nights, let alone a bird. The bird hooted a low, what Heath assumed to be mocking, note. The rock star snorted. “I know, fat chance at getting you back in the store without landing myself in a serious pile of dung, but I can’t keep you, we’ve been through this.”

Slowing his pace, the man paused outside the Emporium. It was now or never. While never did seem like a grand option, he took a deep breath and stepped up his pace. Better to get unpleasant things over and done with quickly, right? Pushing the door open, Heathcote almost winced at the sound of the bell tinkling. He was still suffering for his bender the night before, and the jingling wasn’t exactly helping his head. Glancing around, the man spotted a rather familiar figure. Ah, the new Head-mistress of good ol’ Warty’s. Grinning, he strode up to her. “Alright there, Mins?” he greeted, in a hopefully smooth voice.

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[minerva rose mcgonagall]

Minerva stiffened. Her presence in the classroom was sufficiently stern so that most students did not dare use disrespectful nicknames. However, there had been some notable exceptions over the years. Minerva knew, of course, that the students who really had not liked her, including many of the Slytherins, had not deigned to use silly nicknames, they had simply written insulting things on the walls of the loo and been generally rude. The students who called her “Mins” and “Minnie” were making fun in good spirits and probably liked her – she knew this because of James Potter and Sirius Black. They had almost never called her anything else, and Sirius had told her many years later that she had been by far their favorite Professor.

However, she suspected that Heathcote Barbary did not harbor the same affectionate respect for her as Sirius and James had. He had been well behaved enough in class – all Minerva’s students were well behaved – but he had been lazy and often rude, and had displayed no real interest or enjoyment, except when she delivered a cutting admonishment to one of his less capable classmates. Minerva had also caught him drunk on the Grounds more than once. In fact, Minerva doubted that any Professor had not at one time or another caught Barbary drunk.

Still, while she had no special fondness for him, she had no dislike for him either, and what with recent events, Minerva liked to see any former student of hers alive, healthy, and doing what they wanted – not needed – to do. She didn’t know the specifics, but she did know that Barbary had been on their side during the war, and she saw no reason not to be perfectly friendly. She had time today, and she knew that if she wished to leave any excuse about things that needed to be done at Hogwarts would be believed.

Everyone in the Wizarding world had seen the wreckage after the battle two years ago, as even those who did not know someone who had died (and there were few enough who had escaped that) had returned to Hogwarts to help or just to see what had happened. Everyone loved Hogwarts – even Voldemort, if Harry was to be believed, and Minerva supposed that if he didn’t know what he was talking about on the subject no one did.

Minerva put the barn owl down and turned around.

“Mr. Barbary.” She greeted. “It has been quite a long time since I last saw you. How have you been?”

word count: 426
tags: open

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[heathcote iggy barbary]

Heh. Yes, well. Of course several teachers had caught Heathcote drunk in his school days. Especially in his later years. The ex ‘puff and his friends had taken the behaviour rules expected very lightly. Well, only the rules that stopped them from having a jolly ol’ time anyway. It was a shame no one bothered to mention to the boys (and more often than not, groupies of the female gender) all the wonderful things you could do without getting sloshed and generally acting rowdy. Then in retrospect, if anyone had of mentioned to them there was another way of life, he would have laughed at them. After all, it was a well known fact that Hufflepuff was indeed the party house. At least, he had sure seen to it that it was in his day, and he hoped his legacy was being up-kept. He sure would be disappointed if he discovered that the ‘puffs didn’t party anymore.

Truth be told, the man did have a soft spot for the old bag. However that was due in large part to the fact that in his fourth year, he had stumbled across a photo of the woman from when she was a student. And you know what, Merlin was she a looker. For the better half of a month, the young men and half the other young men in his year had been particularly excited to be in her class, and actually giggled like, well, girls, when she turned her back and one of them dared mutter a lood comment under their breath. Sure, it had landed them all detentions, but it had been completely worth it. Now he was an older and presumably wiser man, he could admit she was still attractive... In her own strange way.

Setting his own bird down on, the young man lent against the counter. Cocking his brow, Heathcote looked her up and down. She always dressed so uptight. Maybe she’d unwind a little if she opened her legs and got so- Okay, he wasn’t going to finish that thought. Even Heathcote wasn’t that deranged... Maybe. “Too long Mins, too long.” He gave her a sly grin. He had never been one to understand what was and was not appropriate, which was part of his charm. Or so he liked to think. “Oh I’ve been well, you know what it’s like.” Pausing, he gave her another once over. “I have to say, that outfit does nothing for you knockers, love.” ....Oh Heathcote... Only you would dare.

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[minerva rose mcgonagall]

At first Minerva was too shocked to do anything. She repressed her first instinct, which was to use one of the many humiliating combinations of hexes she had invented over the years as consolation for being forced to give nothing more than detention for all manner of transgressions. She also repressed her second urge, which was to simply hit him. She was, after all, seventy-five, and the Headmistress of Hogwarts. She had to maintain some dignity.

She did wonder what had possessed Barbary to say such a thing. She could not remember ever in her life being spoken to in such a way. When she had been young and pretty she had also been utterly unapproachable, first because she had eyes only for her childhood sweetheart, and then, after his death, because she had no interest in replacing him. By the time she had let down some of her defenses towards men, she had been old enough and stern enough to be safe from inappropriate schoolboy fantasies – or so she had thought. The idea that her students had thought about her in such a way was decidedly uncomfortable.

Minerva had to say something. Clearly, the best strategy was indifference, but it would be nice if she could cut down Barbary’s ego at the same time.

“Mr. Barbary, thank you for your concern, but this outfit is entirely adequate for the purpose it is intended to serve. I think you will find that my outfit is in fact more flattering then your own, and my personal hygiene is certainly superior.” Minerva did not look at Barbary as she picked up the owl she had selected and approached the counter. After she had paid and thanked the clerk, she returned.

“You might be glad to know, Mr. Barbary, that with the purchase of this owl, Hogwarts is ready to reopen this fall without any shortages or unfinished repairs of any kind for the first time since the end of the war. I do not know the particulars of your attachment by the school, but I have found the concern for its well being to be nearly universal as the rebuilding has gone on, so I though you might be interested. Should you be able to find some whose knockers are satisfactory to you, your children will attend a whole and healthy Hogwarts.” Minerva smiled gently at him. James Potter had once told her that she was most terrifying if she was friendly and kind when they expected her to be furious, and she had capitalized on that knowledge every chance she got since that revelation.

word count: 440
tags: open

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