Clover Hawkings and the Triwizard Tournament

25. McGonagall

"Fuck," I repeated, racing down the steps. I hear my footsteps echoing on the stone stairs as I race past them. Okay. Okay. It can't be that bad, right?  My attempts at logic were quickly shouted down, despite the evidence being in its favor. It is that bad. It must be!  Why else would she not say what's wrong?

"Hey," I turn around to see a student on the floor. I must have bumped into them. I touch my shoulder, vaguely recalling the sensation of someone slamming into me. "Sorry," I mumble. "I really gotta go!" 

...............................

 "Are you okay?" Scarlet asks from the couch, eyebrows crinkling in concern.

"...gotta go," I snap, and hop on the stairs two at a time. I can't think, I can't think. I'll need- clothes, clothes for one day, then I need to go to Flitwick-no, Dumbledore-no, McGonagall-

"Cass said I have to go home, she said it's an emergency- I - I have to go!" I tucked my wand behind my ear and started piling clothes off the floor and into my dusty trunk. Would I even need it? I mean, I won't be there for long, right? And I'll just take a Portkey- yes, I'll have to go to McGonagall, she's the only one who will let me.

"She could be dying!"

...................................

"I doubt that," Alura said scornfully, sitting on her bed, next to mine. 

"Or- she's hurt!" I said angrily, throwing the two sentences Cass called a letter onto my bed. "Maybe she slipped down the stairs-or, or-got stuck in the toilet, or bitten by our apple tree!"

"Your tree...bites?"

"For three weeks?" Alura asked, peering at the date of the letter. 

"Clover, she never says that she's hurt, sick, and/or dying in the letter. It's really not that bad," Scarlet reasoned.

"It's been an emergency for three weeks?!" I looked up, horrified. "What if someone died, or- her cat! What if Mr. Tubble died, three weeks ago, and she's been waiting all that time for me to have the funeral, and his body is just rotting on the kitchen counter?! That's something she wouldn't write in a letter, isn't it?" 

...............................

"Clover," Artemis said gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. I stared back at her. I was struck with the urge to kiss her, but quickly pushed that down. "I need you to be calm. Can you do that?"

She needs me to be calm. I need to be calm. I nod shakily.

...............

I rap my knuckles on the door of McGonagall's study. I used to come here all the time in the first year. There's no response- screw it, I open the door and stride in. A tabby is on her desk, eyebrows- well, the whiskers above her eyes- raised. 

"Professor, I need to go." I crouch in front of the tabby. 

The tabby leaps off the desk, limbs lengthening, and turns around as Professor McGonagall. "Where? And to come into my office without permission! Really, Clover, I expected better-"

I shove the letter under her nose, pursing my lips. I really don't want to cry here.

"Of...you...," McGonagall's voice trails off, her eyes widen.

"I have to go," I repeat, looking down so she doesn't see my tears. 

 "I'll arrange for it at once." 

.............

"Is this Portkey okay?" McGonagall held up a quill. 

"Fine," I say numbly. 

Where are you?

.....................

"Clover."

I look up at the old woman's worn face. I might have been mistaken or- were her eyes a bit glassy?

"Clover," she whispered again, cupping my cheek with one wrinkled hand. She looked at me with a tenderness I hadn't seen before in her eyes, and for the first time, it occurred to me that this was still the woman who came to my house every Sunday for tea, regardless of us being in Hogwarts. You could have come to her with the dreams, a voice in the back of my head whispered, but I decided I wasn't listening to any voices until I heard Cass's.

I stared back at McGonagall. I couldn't feel anything until this was over. She ran a thumb down my cheek and smiled sadly.

Then, a hook in my navel jerked me away.