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Chapter 315: Feline Impressions

If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

I would like to thank my beta, Awdyr, for his help in this chapter.

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15th August 1995, Hogsmeade

Minerva McGonagall was having a horrible summer. Other than the constant attempts at slandering her mentor and boss, she somehow had found herself with even more responsibilities than before, something that she never expected would have been possible.

One would think that with Albus losing his positions as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, he would have had more time to focus on his responsibilities as Hogwarts' headmaster. However, that wasn't the case. If anything, it was the complete opposite. Albus chose to dedicate his time to lead the Order of the Phoenix, a very noble endeavour, but one that shouldn't have taken any time, especially since the Dark Lord still hadn't revealed himself, and there were no public attacks.

There were a few missions here and there, but they shouldn't have necessitated the headmaster's full attention. She would have some choice of words for Albus when the semester began. Nevertheless, she essentially had the responsibilities of a professor and a headmistress, with none of the actual power to make any decisions herself… It was a pretty tricky situation to be in and she disliked it very much.

She understood, really, the danger that Lord Voldemort presented. She had fought the monster before… It was like fighting an unstoppable creature, that never seemed to get tired, and regenerated most wounds in seconds. She could only imagine the rituals Tom Riddle had to partake in to become the monster that was Lord Voldemort.

However, that didn't mean that Albus had to drop anything just to focus on fighting the man, especially as both sides were still recruiting. Albus' reluctance to face off against the ministry bemused her to no end. He certainly could get them to stop, or even offer proof of some kind, but Albus liked the deception, liked the idea of delaying the enemy's march as much as possible. She didn't know why, but she could guess that it had to do with that blasted prophecy.

He was using Fudge's aggression, deciding to weather the storm that was his temper tantrum for some goal that he didn't share with anyone. He was very prone to hide things for some obscure plans… Hiding the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts was extremely unprofessional, and he hadn't told her until Harry Potter almost died that he wanted to use it as a lure to confirm whether the Dark Lord was still alive or not.

During the affair with the Chamber of Secrets, he also refused to call on the DMLE to investigate and temporarily close the school. He was resolute in that, and after the fiasco was over, he had spent the entire summer studying the Diary that possessed poor Ginny Weasley. She didn't know what it was, but Albus had gotten what he wanted, even if it almost caused the death of students…

It left Minerva in an awkward situation, running the school without any actual authority over it. This year was already off to a bad start with Dolores Umbridge of all people being appointed as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Dolores Umbridge, who she remembered being a horrid student, teaching Defence, whose OWL she had even failed.

It was quite clever of the Minister to create a bill that would force Hogwarts Professors to have certifications in the field they would teach in to be hired. It wasn't a big deal for Transfiguration and Charms, since Masteries were available, but for classes like Defence, which did not have any actual certifications, they had created one themselves. Their certification had refused every applicant bar Dolores Umbridge, hence Albus being forced to hire her…

She wasn't looking forward to working with the woman…

Her musings were interrupted as she arrived in front of the entrance of the Three Broomsticks, where she was supposed to meet a potential new student. It was very unusual to have applications from older students, especially in fifth year, but it did happen occasionally. She still needed to vet the boy and make sure that he was not some Death Eater or Ministry plant that would hurt the students…

She looked around and saw a brown-haired boy with hazel eyes sitting in the back. She walked towards him and asked, "Harrold Smith?"

He smiled nervously back at her, "Yes. You must be Professor McGonagall…"

She gave him a small and brief smile in return, "Good. Let's get right to business, Mr. Smith. Your situation is quite unusual and there is much that we need to do before confirming your enrolment in Hogwarts…"

The boy gave her a slight smile, "Sure, what do you want to know?"

"Can you tell me why you're applying to Hogwarts so late?"

He simply shrugged in return, "It's not really something I wanted to do, to be completely honest. As I told you, my mother died a few months back and she was my primary magical teacher. I could have just continued self-studying but any magic I would cast would be detected as a use of Underage Magic. My mother teaching me wasn't a big deal since the ministry detected my magic as hers, but with her gone… The only way to lift the Trace is to apply for it at the ministry and I need my OWLS for that."

"I'm sorry about your mother…" Minerva simply stated.

His eyes got cloudy for a few seconds before replying, "It wasn't anything unexpected… She was hit by a curse right after having me and it's been eating at her ever since. She held on as long as she could… But we both knew how it would have inevitably ended…"

Seeing the chagrined look on her face, Minerva decided to change the subject immediately and chose to focus on the other aspect of what he revealed. First was the fact that he had no official education in any field of magic, and she couldn't really evaluate what he was taught at home in a simple interview… The other was the fact that he had no plans on staying more than a year, something that truly bothered her…

She made her opinion known, "Can I ask why you're not interested in pursuing your NEWTS afterwards? We do have a scholarship fund, and it could open a lot of doors for you if you perform well…"

The boy grabbed the back of his head nervously, "Umm, no offence, but I don't really like strict magical curriculum. If I could, I would have tried to apply for my OWLS now and be done with it. However, the ministry insists that I have to do it through Hogwarts…"

"Then how do you learn magic, then…"

He shrugged, "My mother's way of teaching magic was more individualized… She always said that learning magic should be a personal experience, a way to see the world that changes over time… Don't worry, I also learned the theory behind everything, but it was always secondary to how I connect to the world…"

Minerva suppressed the urge to groan. She always disliked these kinds, who didn't really take magical education seriously, and just learned by 'feel'. It was a movement that came and went throughout history until people realized that this method produced less effective wizards and witches and abandoned the culture…

Still, she would give the boy a chance to prove himself. However, she doubted he could pass her tests, "Alright… Considering your source of education, it falls upon me to evaluate your competence as a wizard and see if you can enter Hogwarts as a fifth-year student…"

The entire process took over two hours. Minerva wouldn't say that she was a master in every field of magic like Albus was, but she could hold her own in most. Of course, she had no time to get him to brew potions or take care of a plant, but it was very easy to see that the boy's education exceeded that of a student of the same year at Hogwarts.

She wouldn't say out loud that his knowledge in Charms, Enchanting, Arithmancy, and Runes, had probably surpassed her own. He was competent enough in potions and herbology, but she couldn't know for sure without a cauldron and a plant in front of him…

However, it was transfiguration that fascinated her. The boy was very good at everything, apart from human transfiguration, which he refused to speak of. She had asked him, and he simply stated that he didn't trust himself not to mess up and that transfiguring another person could cause almost irreparable damage if done incorrectly. She did appreciate his caution. Minerva did have to catch more than a few reckless students trying to become animagi every year.

Still, this performance far exceeded that of a fifteen-year-old boy, and she had her doubts. And so, while he was distracted, she had even snuck in a small age charm and found that the boy was fourteen years old. It was unlikely that he was a plant by the Death Eaters or the Ministry, but she would have to keep an eye on him.

Afterwards, she couldn't help but ask him, "There's one final question I need to ask… Why come to Hogwarts now? You could have applied to another school in another country and be admitted, especially with the political tensions present in Britain…"

The boy snorted, "Look, did think about Beauxbatons. My mother and I stayed in France for a few years, and it was wonderful, but she always talked about the castle. I wanted to see what it was like at least once. And I don't really care about political nonsense. If Dumbledore is telling the truth or not doesn't matter one bit to me. If he's lying then it's not my problem. If the Dark Lord really is back, then he's not revealing himself, which means that I'm safe until he starts attacking. Either way, I'm not planning on staying for long. After I get my OWLS and certifications, I want to continue travelling a bit. I've been dying to go to Greece… I read so much about it…"

Minerva wasn't exactly convinced, "Your potential would be enough to make you a target, Mr. Smith…"

He grinned, "Look, I get that your whole Dark Lord thing is serious here, but outside of Britain, no one really cares about it. Believe me, they barely register that there's been a civil war here and there's a reason for it. Your fight is never going to spill past Britain, because if it does, the rest of Europe will get involved and it'll be over really quickly. That's a fact that everyone knows…"

Minerva gritted her teeth, "The war was no joke, Mr. Smith…"

"I never said it was. My point is just that if anyone wanted no parts in it, then there's a very easy solution and that's to move to another country until the mess is done with."

"Some people like to fight for their homes," she protested.

"And that's a noble thing. But the truth is that very few people are willing to fight and that's not a bad thing. I, for one, am not a fighter. Oh, I can defend myself, but I don't have the instinct for it."

"So, you would run away and hide if your home was attacked…"

The boy simply shrugged, "If I was a less competent wizard, I would… Fear is a normal thing, it's an evolutionary reaction to danger, one that is probably why life still perseveres. It might be a mark of a coward to run away, but it's the wise course of action if the other choice is to die fighting…"

"So, you would have let people die in the last war?" The transfiguration mistress growled.

He shook his head, "Of course not. No, I would have made a partnership with another school outside the country to admit Muggleborns and people who would have been targeted, diminishing the risk until the situation was dealt with. But I'm not qualified to do anything, am I? This is just me making theories…"

McGonagall turned pensive at that proposal. She disliked the way the boy just didn't want to fight but that was his decision. What she did not respect was the way he dismissed the war, as if it was some small event and not the terrifying period where she lost so many students…

However, now that she had thought about it, the idea of partnering with another school technically had merit. If Lord Voldemort started to attack people once more, giving him fewer targets would be better in the long run. She wondered why she never thought of the idea…

Nevertheless, she was not there to argue with the boy, "Alright, it's getting late. Congratulations, Mr. Smith on your admission to our prestigious institution. Expect an OWL with the official decision and your required materials. If you have any sort of financial difficulties, you could apply for a scholarship through the ministry. Unofficially, these are what you're going to need for the next year. I trust that you can buy them without any assistance…"

The boy took a relieved sigh before smiling, "Ah, yes… That shouldn't be a problem…"

She then continued, "If you do not have an official place of residence, we could sponsor you with a temporary home until you come to Hogwarts."

It was a bit of a grey area for students orphaned without blood relations. It had started during the previous war, and it pained her how many of her students found themselves without any parents overnight.

There hadn't been such a situation in over a decade, and she wasn't exactly sure it would have worked considering the straining relationship between the school and the ministry. However, Albus would probably have a member of the Order keep an eye on the boy…

Mr. Smith simply shrugged, "Nah, I'm good. It's only a couple of weeks and I do have a few things to take care of first before starting school…"

"Like what exactly?"

"Well, nothing really exciting. I'm just looking for a very old family ring…"

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AN: I thought about skipping this chapter and going straight to Hogwarts and I started to write the chapter like that, but it just didn't feel right. There had to be something in between. I'm thinking about making more of this arc from other people's POV and wanted to know what you thought about that. As usual, I'm also open to most suggestions for this arc. I can be a bit more flexible since it's somewhat self-contained.

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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.

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