Peeves to the Rescue

Professor McGonagall had been woken from a fitful slumber by the crash from Peeves's latest escapade. Sleep was an elusive thing now that Professor Dumbledore had left Hogwarts, and in an effort to wear the wakefulness out of herself, she'd decided to take a walk around the less travelled areas of the castle. Her path was carefully calculated to avoid any possibility of meeting up with the new Headmistress. Let that horrible woman sort the poltergeist out for herself. She had no intention of assisting.

As she meandered around the corridors, Minerva pondered the current state of the school. She missed Albus. The man could be insufferable at times, and she could have happily wiped that serene smile from his face on more than one occasion, but the place seemed empty without him. He was a fair-minded and generous man and, on the whole, an excellent Headmaster. Perhaps he was a little too soft-hearted with the students, but that was an easy fault to overlook.

Dolores Umbridge was a very poor exchange for him. Minerva had loathed the woman from the first moment she'd set eyes on her, and further acquaintance with the woman only served to confirm her initial impression. Small-minded and vindictive, it seemed that Professor Umbridge's only interests in life were to gain as much power as she could for herself and to turn the students (if not the teachers as well) into mindless tools of the Ministry.

To Minerva's great satisfaction, the student body had had other ideas. Harry Potter had been one of the forerunners of the student rebellion. He'd spoken out in front of his class when Dolores had begun her ridiculous 'carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic'. At the time, Minerva had had to reluctantly reprimand him, but she'd been delighted to discover that as time went on, neither he nor the other students had allowed that evil woman to stop them learning to combat the Dark Arts and had in fact decided to teach themselves! If it hadn't meant exposing them to Dolores's scrutiny and risking a mass expulsion, she would have awarded them fifty points each for their house for such a courageous and effectual solution.

It was a shame that she hadn't found out about it earlier, though. She could have helped protect them from discovery. The Room of Requirement (yet another of the castle's many secrets – would she ever learn them all?) was an inspired choice of venue for their sessions, and Minerva had to admire the students' ingenuity, but under her protection, they would have stood a much better chance of remaining undetected. Then, maybe, Albus would still be here and the school would be functioning as it should. She missed him.

Still, it entertained Minerva to muse on what a hollow victory Umbridge had won. She and the Minister had hoped to imprison Albus and he'd easily eluded them. They'd hoped to have the school completely under their control, and it was in chaos. The only students who complied with their directions were the members of that hateful Inquisitional Squad, and even that victory was a hollow one. Those students had no loyalty to either the Headmistress or the Ministry. Dolores would discover in good time that they would always support the winning side and would desert her the moment the tide turned against her.

Of course, Umbridge's life would have been tolerable if it hadn't been for Fred and George Weasley. For the first time since they'd come to Hogwarts, Minerva was proud that those boys had been sorted into her house. What a precedence they had set! Their leadership had concreted the foundation for the student revolt, and their inventions were rapidly becoming the new Head's undoing. How fortunate that they had not only set off that commotion before they left, but sold so many products to the rest of the students. Their fine example was being almost universally adopted. Minerva wiped a tear from her eye. She'd never thought she'd miss those two; but really, they were talented wizards. What a shame they hadn't applied themselves to their schoolwork more. They could have earned themselves some pretty decent NEWTs in charms if they had stayed.

Minerva wasn't in any hurry to get anywhere in particular. She studiously avoided the sounds of Umbridge and Filch shouting at Peeves, but other than that, she was perfectly content to let her feet dictate her direction. By this time of night, the stench from the Stink Pellets and Dungbombs the students had dropped in the corridor had dissipated to a mildly unpleasant aroma, and the unaccustomed solitude made her journey through it almost pleasurable.

The sound was soft, furtive, and for a moment Minerva wasn't sure that she hadn't been imagining it. Frowning a little, she paused, stilling her breathing in an effort to hear better. There it was again. It sounded like someone creeping through the hallway; someone even more intent on concealing their presence than she herself was – a student, most likely. She frowned. Whilst she minded not a whit that the students were upsetting the order Umbridge was trying so desperately to create, they needed their sleep. There were exams coming up, after all. Not only that, but their best chance of surviving the war ahead lay in them learning as much as possible before they were called upon to use their knowledge and for that they needed to be alert. The Ministry might have their heads in the sand, but Minerva knew that not even children were safe from Lord Voldemort.

As quietly as she could, Minerva headed off in pursuit. Whoever was making the noise sounded close, but when she rounded the corner, the corridor appeared to be completely empty, and there was nowhere else a fugitive could have gone. Frowning, she shook her head, wondering if she were imagining things. Flights of fancy weren't something she was usually susceptible to, but perhaps the unaccustomed silence of the castle – relative silence anyway, Filch and Umbridge's distant pursuit of Peeves didn't really count – was playing tricks on her mind. For several minutes she stood unmoving, listening for movement. Nothing.

It was only after she'd wandered down another corridor and had paused to admire the detail of one of the paintings on the wall that the sound began once again. It appeared to be coming from the very area she had been searching. It was someone invisible then. This time, Minerva gave the footsteps a good head start and followed their sound as quietly as she could. Every time she reached a bend in her path, she halted, giving the unseen individual ample time to become complacent before she followed.

Whoever (or whatever) was making the sound was heading upwards, and Professor McGonagall gave them a wide berth on the stairway where her presence would be easily discovered. Often she had to slip so far back that she had to strain to hear the sound before she could follow the trail once more.

When she reached the third floor, Minerva was just in time to catch a flash of movement. Harry Potter's form appeared out of thin air. He glanced about furtively, bundled up the Invisibility Cloak which had concealed him and then pulled out his wand. Tapping the statue of the one-eyed witch, he whispered, "Dissendium". To Minerva's amazement, the statue's hump opened to reveal a hole.

Harry began to haul himself up to climb through the gap. Now that she had caught him, Minerva saw no need to continue hiding. Before he could vanish through the hole, she stepped out into the open. Summoning her severest frown, she called out repressively, "Harry Potter!"

Harry's expression registered horror, dread, and then, as he took in who had caught him, resignation mixed with relief. "Professor McGonagall," he said. "Uh, I was just..."

"Breaking half a dozen school rules," Minerva suggested, folding her arms.

"Well, yes, Professor," Harry admitted. Surreptitiously, he slipped the cloak behind his back in a belated attempt at concealment.

Minerva was insulted that he could imagine that such a transparent ruse might be enough to fool her. "You've been using an Invisibility Cloak, Potter," she pointed out sternly.

Sighing, the boy gave up the pretence and responded, "Yes, Professor. It was my father's. I didn't want Umbridge to get hold of it."

"Professor Umbridge," Minerva corrected. It was more of a reflex than any real concern for the lack of respect for the Headmistress.

"Professor Umbridge," Harry repeated dutifully.

Their eyes met. Had he been circumventing any other teacher's rules, Minerva would have instantly sent him to meet his punishment. However, under the circumstances, all her sympathy resided with the student. "Do you have many things to remind you of your family?" she asked, gentling her tone. It wasn't hard to be sympathetic to the poor boy's plight.

She had taken him by surprise. He glanced quickly up at her face, startled. Apparently he had expected punishment, not sympathy. "Just this," he mumbled. "And Hagrid – I mean Professor Hagrid – gave me an album with pictures of them in it, and..." he sighed, "I don't have anything else of theirs."

"I'll take care of that cloak for you," Minerva offered, holding out her hand. "There's no decree – yet – against teachers possessing them, and..." once again she fixed the fifth-year boy with a severe frown, "perhaps if I keep it, it will dissuade you from further rule breaking."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said gratefully. He handed it over, watching her fold it up neatly.

"Now I had better escort you back to the Gryffindor common room," Minerva decided. "Without this, you'll have a difficult time explaining yourself to the new Headmistress. There's no need to give her any opportunity to make your life difficult, is there Potter?"

Harry grinned at her. Suddenly, they were partners in crime. "No, Professor," he agreed.

They hadn't walked very far before Harry stopped, looking worried. Puzzled, Minerva halted her steps too. "Is something wrong, Potter?" she asked, allowing severity to creep back into her voice.

"It's just... Sirius is here tonight, Professor. If Umbridge catches him..."

"Professor Umbridge," Minerva corrected once again. Pursing her lips, she considered the options. "Where did he go?"

"He went into Sn-Professor Snape's office," Harry replied.

"Then Professor Snape will know if he succeeded in leaving undetected," Professor McGonagall decided. "I think we must delay your return to your dorm, Potter, whilst we investigate. I trust you will not interpret this as encouragement to be wandering around after hours?"

"No, Professor," Harry said quickly, gratitude plainly evident on his face.

"Very well. You'd better put this back on, then," Minerva said, handing Harry back his cloak. "I've no intention of drawing our new Headmistress's attention by having to explain your presence."

They hurried down the stairways, only slowing when the squat, mischievous form of Peeves flew over their heads, cackling.

"Hubble bubble boil and trouble!" he chanted. "Roll Umbridge's underwear in the rubble!"

The sound of pursuit could be clearly heard approaching rapidly from below. Filch and Umbridge were hurling threats as they attempted to gain on the poltergeist.

"Lead her upstairs, Peeves," Minerva suggested.

"Shan't!" Peeves sang.

"She's arranging for you to be expelled, Peeves," Minerva pointed out. "We can't have that, can we? Lead her upstairs and I'll make sure that never happens."

Peeves considered the Transfiguration professor. Then, smirking wickedly, he turned back the way he came and yelled at the top of his voice, "Exploding swamp in the corridor! Tonight only! Admission free!" He shot up towards the fifth floor.

"Well, dear me, that does sound very messy, doesn't it?" Minerva mused, hiding a smile. "I expect that will take quite some time to clean up, wouldn't you say, Potter?"

Harry's voice beside her sounded startled. "Yes, Professor," he stammered.

"Well then," Minerva continued, as the sounds of a furious Filch and Umbridge came closer, "I don't think we should hang around. After all, we'd get in the way of all their hard work."

Quickly, she stepped behind a statue. A moment later, the invisible Harry joined her, the telltale fluttering of her robes giving evidence of his approach.

An instant later, the Headmistress and caretaker ran past, their footsteps clunking along the stone floor as they attempted to head Peeves off.

"The fifth floor will be flooded!" Umbridge was yelling. "We'll need every teacher out of bed to help with the clean-up! Surely Dumbledore had a method of summoning them all at once! Find it, Filch, and use it!"

Minerva could hear Harry snickering softly beside her. "I hope it isn't a magical method," he whispered.

Once again, Minerva had to suppress a smile. She, too, was amused that Umbridge still hadn't discovered that Filch was a Squib.

"It must be in his office!" Filch panted. "And his office is..."

"Locked!" Umbridge finished the sentence for him. "Wait until the Ministry catches him! I'll get that secret out of him, and when I do, he'll be sorry he ever pitted his will against mine!"

"Someone will be sorry when they meet again, anyway," Minerva muttered, not the slightest bit concerned that Harry could hear her.

When Umbridge and Filch were safely out the way, Minerva stepped back out into the open. "Come on, Harry," she whispered. "We've got to go and warn your godfather to get out of the castle before it's too late."

Once again, they headed downstairs. Now that she knew that the Headmistress was otherwise occupied, Minerva didn't bother to try and conceal her movement. They were able to move much more quickly and soon found themselves in the dungeons.

"He's in here?" she asked Harry, pausing at the door to Snape's office. It was slightly ajar.

Harry pulled the cloak off himself. His hair, never tidy, was now sticking up all over his head. "That's where he was going when I left him," he said.

Minerva knocked at the door. There was no answer.

"He could have gone somewhere else," Harry suggested. "He sent me away before he found out if Professor Snape was in here."

Minerva knocked again. There was still no response.

"Perhaps we should check Professor Snape's quarters," she muttered, turning away.

Harry nudged at the door. "Maybe we should just have a look," he suggested. The door swung open with its customary ear-molesting creak.

"Harry Potter!" Minerva was shocked. "You don't just let yourself into a teacher's office without permiss..."

Her voice trailed off as they both took in the scene. The room was in shambles: scorch marks singed the walls; potion ingredients were scattered around the room, some of them trampled; shards of glass littered the floor; a knife was buried in the wall; and the desk was a pile of rubble. It looked as though Peeves had let off an explosion there as practice for blowing up the swamp.

As if to underline that thought, a distant boom could be heard from upstairs.

"What happened here?" Minerva breathed, ignoring the sound. She and Harry stepped through the door and for the first time caught sight of what it had been hiding.

Sirius's face was covered in bruises and small flecks of blood. The man was bound by thick ropes and suspended just above the ground. He was breathing shallowly and appeared to be in pain.

"Sirius!" Harry's voice was anguished. He had seen his godfather first. He raced over, flinging his cloak aside and allowing it to crumple on the ground. Desperately, he began to tear at the ropes binding the man.

"Sirius, are you okay? Speak to me!" he pleaded. "What did he do to you?"

"Harry. I told you to go to bed," Sirius rasped weakly.

"He's here with me," Minerva said smoothly, reaching the pair, her wand at the ready. "Harry, stand back."

Two simple spells were sufficient to vanish the ropes and lower the man to the ground. "How badly are you hurt, Sirius?" she asked.

"Just a few bruises," Sirius whispered in a pained tone.

"What happened?" Minerva demanded, staring around the room.

"Things got a little heated between Snape and me," Sirius admitted reluctantly, prodding his ribs gingerly. "We duelled. He caught me off-guard."

"Where is he now?" Minerva demanded. When Sirius shook his head, she continued, "What possessed you to come here? You know Dolores Umbridge would like nothing better than to have you locked back up in Azkaban!"

"I won't skulk around like a coward," Sirius growled. "Harry needed me and I came."

Harry looked pained. "I wouldn't want you to get caught, Sirius," he said. Gently, he helped his godfather to his feet.

Minerva's gaze whipped over Sirius, assessing his injuries. "I can't do much for you," she muttered thoughtfully. "Most of this will have to heal itself, but I can help you feel better for a little while. Really, Sirius, what possessed you?"

"I did what needed to be done," Sirius said, clenching his teeth as Minerva tapped him gently with her wand. After a moment, his expression cleared, relief settling over his features.

"Duelling with Severus was foolish!" Minerva scolded. "If Dolores had been down here, if Peeves hadn't been destroying the castle, you would surely have been caught."

"That would hardly have been any loss to anyone," Snape's voice cut in. He was standing in the doorway, looking murderous. He stepped into the room, scowling at all three of its occupants, his gaze finally resting on Sirius. "So, Black, I see that once again your godson has come to your rescue. How does it feel to always be saved by a mere boy?"

"Snape!" Surprisingly fast, given his injuries, Sirius dived for a wand left in a cupboard in the corner.

Snape was quicker. He thrust out his own wand, barking out a spell, and a flash of green light streaked towards Sirius.

"No!" Harry yelled, diving in front of his godfather. Sirius whirled, trying to push Harry out of the way, but he was too slow. The spell hit Harry right in the chest. Intense pain contorted his face. He cried out in agony and collapsed at Sirius's feet.

"Severus, what have you done?" Minerva whispered, horror freezing her to the spot. She could not take her eyes off the limp form of her student crumpled on the ground.