A/N: Written by the Keeper of Montrose Magpies for Round 9
Trigger warning: intrusive thoughts, portrayal of depression/anxiety
Prompt: Goggles: Write about a witch or wizard seeing someone in a new light.
Word count: 2999 (on Microsoft Word)
Katie felt like she was watching herself sitting in class. It was like she'd been shifted back a foot into a void of white noise, where there was very little air to breathe.
She was beginning to wonder whether she would have been better off staying in bed than dragging herself to class, where she felt like she might be sick any second. Not because she was ill, but because she felt like everyone knew — like everyone knew that she was wrong. Of course, no one could possibly know. No one could possibly even conceive that inside Katie Bell's, brain something was wired wrong.
Distractedly, she chewed on the end of her quill, her eyes unfocused. She could have been in an empty classroom, the Great Hall, on the Quidditch Pitch; she wouldn't have even noticed. It was almost as though she were floating; in the air without a broom. It was a harrowing feeling, not at all like the feeling of flying on a broomstick. It wasn't exhilarating; it wasn't freeing. It felt as though she was trapped, suspended in the place just a few inches behind her, watching herself being totally oblivious to the world. Katie was watching herself shut down — piece by piece — and that was far more pressing than the process itself. It was a sign that she was weak, that she was letting all the stupid thoughts get under her skin.
"Miss Bell." The loud voice of Professor Sinistra cut through the persistent humming in Katie's head. "I will not say your name one more time. I'm fed up with your attitude; no homework, day-dreaming in class, not responding to me. Pack up and take yourself to Professor McGonagall's office."
Katie's consciousness seemed to slam back into her body. "B-b-but Professor. I'm sorry; I just feel unwell."
"You can explain that to Professor McGonagall," Sinistra said firmly.
Katie had never been sent out of any class; she'd only ever had a handful of detentions in all her years at Hogwarts. Suddenly, she was right in the action — no longer stood behind herself, but right in the madness, having to deal with something that she really did not want to deal with. Dragging her bag up onto the table, Katie's cheeks flushed red as her classmates' eyes burned into her skin. She fumbled over her things for what felt like the most painstaking seconds of her life — everything felt like that these days — and managed to find her way to the door.
Katie felt light-headed as she stepped out onto the fourth floor corridor. The sudden beams of light coming through the window opposite made her flinch and squint, her arm coming up to block it.
What was going to happen upon her arrival at her Head of House's office? Professor McGonagall always seemed to exude a natural Veritaserum that wracked you with guilt if you didn't tell her the truth. Katie didn't want to go. She'd rather go back to the dorm and hide so she didn't have to face the possibility that she might blab the truth to McGonagall. Yet her feet were on automatic, carrying her towards the nearest set of stairs.
Every footstep made her head throb. Katie seemed to be getting headaches so regularly that she practically didn't notice them, but this one was like she'd taken a Bludger to the head; it made her want to grit her teeth with every move. It felt as though the air was constricting around her; her chest was tight. At a guess, Katie supposed that it was the fear that she might get in trouble, or worse, McGonagall might realise that Katie was messed up. The latter option was making her sweat at the thought. If only she could just get a hold of herself, then maybe she could fix things — fix herself.
Upon arriving at the door of Professor McGonagall's office, Katie could barely take a breath that didn't shake. She was not calm at all; she couldn't even seem to disconnect from the situation. The fear had gripped her tight and refused to let go.
Finally raising her hand, Katie knocked timidly, hoping that maybe the Gryffindor Head wouldn't be there.
She wasn't that lucky.
"Come in," Professor McGonagall called.
Katie's hand hesitated, hovering over the doorknob as she wondered whether she might be able to make a break for it. It was a fleeting thought that shot away when she twisted the handle and poked her head around the small gap in the door.
Professor McGonagall was sat behind her desk, a quill crafted of lime green feathers, which matched her robes, in her hand. She appeared to be marking a stack of essays, and by the looks of it, she was not particularly enjoying doing so. When she saw that her visitor was indeed a student, she placed the quill back in its brass holder and directed her attention to Katie. "Miss Bell, should you not be in class?"
"Um, Professor Sinistra sent me to you," Katie replied, her voice barely audible.
"Come in, Miss Bell, and take a seat," Professor McGonagall instructed whilst conjuring a chair in front of her desk. "For what reason did Professor Sinistra send you out of class?"
Tentatively sitting on the edge of the seat, Katie found herself unable to look her Head of House in the eye, finding the essay on Banishment far easier to concentrate on. What exactly was she supposed to say? That she'd been sent out for everything? Katie settled on a shrug and she saw McGonagall studying her from her peripheral vision. Of course, a moody teenager shrug was never going to suffice for an answer.
"You don't know why she sent you out of class?"
Katie felt like Professor McGonagall was mocking her, even though the older witch never would. Her head was twisting everyone's words these days. She cleared her throat, still not looking up. "Well, it was sort of for everything, Professor."
"Everything?" Professor McGonagall frowned and intertwined her fingers over the essay on the desk. "Miss Bell, are you okay? You look awfully pale."
She felt awful, so it wasn't any surprise to Katie that she looked like shit. The Gryffindor shifted in her seat, uncomfortable under her Professor's gaze. Although, at least the older woman looked sympathetic. Professor McGonagall was known to be strict and firm with students who broke the rules; Katie didn't know, however, how she dealt with students who were sent out of class.
"Miss Bell?" Professor McGonagall prompted.
"I'm fine," Katie replied quickly.
The Professor pulled a face that quite clearly showed that she did not believe that Katie was alright. She waved her wand and a tea set in the corner started to life. Clinks of china filled the silence in the office and Katie watched in fascination as the kettle self-heated. Once it whistled to signal it was boiled and ready to pour, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.
"Milk and sugar, Miss Bell?"
Katie was absolutely sure McGonagall didn't offer tea to people who were sent out of class. Confusion clouded her mind for a long moment until she realised she had yet to answer. "Um, yes, please. Just one sugar."
There was an audible plop from the sugar cubes as they were dropped into each teacup. Katie sat back as they levitated across to the table. She received a beautifully decorated cup, swirls of blue and lavender around the edge, and star constellations decorating it. Katie wrapped her shaky hands around it to warm them up and complimented the Professor's tea set simply out of habit. Professor McGonagall offered a small smile in response — a rare occurrence — which made Katie consider whether McGonagall had a less-strict twin or something.
"Professor Sinistra gave them to me last Christmas," she explained. "I have grown quite fond of them."
"Well, they're very pretty," Katie said quietly.
The two seconds of quietness that followed Katie's words seemed to stretch on forever.
"Miss Bell, I've received a few comments from your other Professors about you not concentrating in class, and that you appear to have quieted substantially," Professor McGonagall said, studying Katie over the top of her spectacles. "Is there something I should know?"
Katie shook her head. "No, Professor."
"Nothing I could help you with?" When Katie shook her head again wordlessly, Professor McGonagall let a short sigh escape her lips and then continued. "Miss Bell, I understand that, sometimes, it is difficult to put our thoughts into words, and even harder to confide our worries and intrusive thoughts to someone else. Nearly forty years of teaching has taught me a lot, especially how to notice when my students are struggling, but you know, even to this day, I'm never sure what a student is truly worrying about. Whatever is happening, Katie, I can help you find a solution, but not if you don't help me understand what is causing you so much melancholy."
"I… I… I don't think you'd understand, Professor," Katie replied, her voice a whisper. "It doesn't make sense to me, but… but I know it's wrong."
"What is wrong?"
"I am." Katie fixed her eyes downwards, her heart in her throat, as Professor McGonagall asked for clarification. The words Katie wanted to use — to explain — felt heavy and poisonous in her mouth. "I think I'm… I am attracted to girls, not boys."
Katie heard Professor McGonagall's chair creak as she sat back. Tucking her elbows inwards, Katie's aim was to make herself so small that the ground might just swallow her whole. At least, that way, she wouldn't have to listen to McGonagall telling her that it was wrong, that she should try and move on because it was just a phase, and all the things that Katie knew already. The silence felt like it might never end.
"You are not wrong, Miss Bell." The firm words made Katie jump slightly. Her eyes snapped up to her Transfiguration Professor. "You are not wrong, or broken; not at all. Not because of who you fall in love with. I will not have you thinking that."
Katie was sure she was hallucinating. Stunned and unable to speak, she found herself staring blankly at Professor McGonagall. Having never seen her so serious, Katie was even more convinced that she wasn't actually sat in front of the real McGonagall. Perhaps, she had been replaced like Professor Moody had been last year, or worse, Katie was imagining this whole exchange. And yet, she could feel the heat from her teacup, taste the sugar solution on her lips. Katie could feel it warming her from the inside, or maybe, that was just the thought that someone might not think she was crazy.
Professor McGonagall rose to her feet and cast a nonverbal spell towards the wall, a door fading into appearance. "Here, Katie, let me show you something that might help soothe some of your worries."
The Professor's words suddenly sounded soft and welcoming when they reached Katie's ears. The negative portrayal that her brain had been clouding everything with had lifted, if only for a moment, during the last few seconds of their conversation.
Katie found her strength to stand, abandoning the teacup on the desk as she followed McGonagall to the strange, new door to the right of the office. Momentarily, she felt confused when McGonagall opened to door, but Katie quickly realised she was standing in the doorway of the Professor's living quarters. She beckoned Katie forward and across the main room to the fireplace. Her quarters were modestly decorated, but cosy. She had hand-stitched pillows on the sofa and magazines on the coffee table. The fireplace was small, but beautifully rustic. The brick was exposed and the fire was wood-burning, exuding a comfortable heat. On the mantelpiece above it were several pictures, which Katie's eyes lingered on before she turned back to McGonagall, who was studying her carefully.
"These are pictures of my loved ones," the Professor explained, gesturing to the photos. "My parents are there on the end, and me and my brothers are in the frame there beside it. This one is of my late husband."
Katie hadn't even known that Professor McGonagall had been married. She gazed at the photo of a cheerful dark-haired man, who pulled a face and then smiled softly. McGonagall's eyes lingered on it too, smiling back, before she sighed and continued. "But these are not the photos I want to show you."
She stepped along to the left of the fireplace and picked up a silver frame with three photos displayed inside. These ones showed a younger Professor McGonagall and another woman of about the same age. The other woman had heaps of curly blonde hair and a smile that was infectious, making Katie faintly smile too just by looking at the photo.
"This is me and someone I cared very deeply for: Kathleen."
In the first photo, McGonagall and Kathleen were pictured at some sort of event — a wedding, perhaps — drinking champagne. They both raised their glasses in unison. Kathleen appeared to say something and the photo version of Professor McGonagall snorted and nearly spilled her drink everywhere. The second photo showed the two alongside a collection of other people in a long, homely kitchen decorated for Christmas. Kathleen didn't appear to be concentrating on the camera, instead talking animatedly to Professor McGonagall and a couple — a woman with fiery red hair and a man with messy black hair — across from them. The last photo was different; it was taken from above the two as though one of them were holding it. Professor McGonagall seemed sad and then Kathleen was whispering.
Smile. Smile, go on. Don't be grumpy; smile.
Those were the words that Katie made out before photo-McGonagall finally smiled and Kathleen kissed her cheek.
"That last one was taken in the August of 1980," Professor McGonagall explained. "Kathleen was murdered in a Death Eater attack the following day."
Katie was shocked. "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor."
"It's okay," McGonagall responded, her eyes shining in the firelight. "The reason I showed this to you is because I was scared to tell Kathleen I loved her. I loved her just like my husband, and I never got the chance to tell her before she passed. I would hate for you to be too scared to be yourself — no matter what anyone else thinks."
Her eyes widening, Katie processed the words slowly. Professor McGonagall had been in love with another woman? She looked back down at the photos, disbelief filtering through her brain for a long time. Looking back at her Head of House, she couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that ten minutes ago, she was Professor McGonagall: strict, firm, but fair. Now, she was Professor McGonagall: had been in love with a woman once and was heartbroken that she had missed her chance to say so.
"You loved a woman and no one cared?"
"No one knew about me, but Kathleen, she never lied about being attracted to women, and she was, by far, one of the most popular women in our group of friends," McGonagall explained. "But Miss Bell, that doesn't mean you won't face hardships. Anyone who believes that being attracted to the same sex is wrong is not your friend."
Katie felt as though the dark cloud that had been looming over her for the last few months was lifting slightly; her mind was clearer than it had been even a few minutes ago. The warning that Professor McGonagall had given was lost in the air as Katie's brain pondered the possibility of not being so terrified. That maybe she might be able to go back to being the old her without the crippling worry that everyone would be staring at her.
"Miss Bell, I think you should take some time to understand that what you're feeling isn't wrong," Professor McGonagall replied, placing the frame of Kathleen and her back on the mantelpiece, "and please remember that my door is open should you need any guidance."
Feeling overwhelmed by emotions, Katie swung her arms around Professor McGonagall, startling her. "Thank you, Professor. I… I really needed your guidance."
McGonagall, in return, patted her back, until Katie realised she was hugging a Professor and pulled away. She shuffled back — pink tingeing her cheeks.
Saving her the embarrassment, Professor McGonagall spoke, checking her watch. "That's quite alright, Miss Bell. You can take yourself down to lunch now; class is almost over."
Katie nodded, muttered another thank you, and then left through the door of McGonagall's quarters. For the first time in weeks, Katie felt calm, and as she walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, there was a smile on her face. Instead of being blindingly bright, the winter sun that streamed through the windows fell just right. It illuminated the stone walls and cast perfect shadows across the floor.
It was thanks to Professor McGonagall and, Katie supposed, partially thanks to her being sent out of class, too.
She never would have guessed in a million years that Professor McGonagall could have been even a smidgen like Katie was. It certainly had changed the way her mind now portrayed the Gryffindor Head of House — for the better. And Merlin, was Katie thankful for the last half an hour, because she had been terrified of what was happening inside her head. It might have just been the start of expelling the intrusive thoughts from her mind, but at least she was on a path that would help her begin to understand what was going on.
At least she could push those thoughts away now.
Katie's stomach made a menacing sound. Having not eaten properly in a few weeks because of the constant sick feeling, she was exceptionally hungry. This felt like the perfect time to think about beef stew and hot rolls of bread.
Everything else could wait.