[Minerva POV]
It had been quite so ti since I had last attended a Wizengamot eting. A council hearing.
I hold representation in the Wizengamot.
Two votes as the head of the McGonagall family. The McGonagall was not a particularly famous, wealthy, influential or politically powerful house. Even so, the McGonagall line is ancient and was respected throughout the Wizarding Britian.
Over the centuries, we have produced quite a few scholars who have contributed imnsely to in various magical fields through our deep and dedicated research.
Now, I am its only remaining mber. The last McGonagall. It is not as if so great tragedy or calamity befell us. Rather, as the sun inevitably sets after a long day, so too has our family's ti reached its dusk. After thriving for centuries, our line is quietly nearing its end. And when I would be gone, the na will vanish with forever.
Beyond my family's seat, I hold an additional vote as the Vice Headmistress of Hogwarts. When the school was founded, its four founders had commanded imnse power and influence.
Hogwarts was also to serve as the institution that would shape the heirs and the future lords of most wizarding houses. Taking into account, these two factors, Hogwarts had been granted permanent representation in the Wizarding Council.
Two votes for the headmaster and one for the Vice headmaster.
As I said, it had been years since I had last attended a Wizengamot hearing. Truth be told, I have little interest in politics and always tried to keep myself aloof from political matters. With this aloofness, ca a hardened sense of impartiality in my teaching profession and for which I had always been proud of myself.
When I was younger, many had urged to get married, to ensure the McGonagall na did not fade from history. But I had been too strong headed, too stubborn.
My focus had solely been on my studies. First on my own education and magical research, and later, wholly on my students.
I have spent a long career at Hogwarts, and my work has always been my life. There is a special joy in passing down knowledge to the next generation. I will not claim the path was free of hardship, but it has been fulfilling. A journey I have cherished.
Yet these last seven days have been among the hardest of my life. Never did I imagine a ti would co when I would find myself avoiding the eyes of one of my most beloved students.
And at monts, I have caught myself tempted, tempted to place the bla for this entire trial on the very man whose defence I now sit here to witness. But no matter no how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to bla Antonio Olario for my worries and my dilemma.
It all began when Lily Evans, spurred on by a few simple words from Lord Olario filed two formal complaints with against two groups of students. Not that Lord Olario was in the wrong. What he had said had made complete sense.
As her Head of House, and as the Vice Headmistress of Hogwarts, it had been my duty or was supposed to duty to investigate and address those matters without bias, fairly and decisively. But Dumbledore too all the responsibilities and duties upon himself.
But Dumbledore, he left us little room to act. As I had been instructed, I forwarded the complaint to him. And, as I had expected, no action followed. No word. No explanation. It has now been nearly seven days since I placed those parchnt reports in his hands. It was silence.
Twice in that ti, Lily has co to , asking if any action had been taken. Those monts, I had always dreaded them. Feeling shaful in front of my student.
I cannot even recall what incoherent excuses I mumbled or what hollow reasons I offered to her. It was not easy for .
What I do rember is the look in her eyes. The quiet disappointnt. Every ti, I saw the hope, kindled by Antonio's words, the hope that Hogwarts' inaction might yet prove him wrong, dim just a little more.
And every ti I t her gaze, I felt the weight of it. I found myself looking away. Stealing my eyes from hers.
I had done as much as I could without being too obvious. Jas Potter had found himself on the receiving end of so harsh and sharp words and a few points deducted from Gryffindor. It was ant as a ssage, an indication to rein in his pranks and needless antics. And, to a degree, it worked.
His boundless energy dulled, his recklessness had tempered. But I knew it was only a temporary reprieve.
I had tried the sa with the Slytherins, subtle warnings, quiet hints but they were not like Jas and his friends. They gave far fewer opportunities to catch them in the act.
Still, sothing had shifted inside . I could not na it at first, but I knew its source.
Olario's actions. His stance had been clear, uncompromising. He had not buckled or tried to disown his actions. He had owned and owned them proudly and though I hate to admit it, his actions were correct. Only a dead Death Eater is a good Death Eater.
Yet for years, I had started to wrap myself in the comfortable illusion of kindness and empathy. But kindness alone has never stopped evil.
Dumbledore's influence and respect do not co from kindness he had. They co from power he wielded. If kindness were enough, he would have used it to defeat Grindelwald. No. Instead, he faced him in battle and struck him down.
And this had brought realisation to . I could not blind myself in na of excuses.
Enough was enough. I had waited seven days. Seven days of doing nothing while Lily's faith in faded a little more each ti I saw her.
When this hearing is over, I will demand that Dumbledore act on those complaints. And if he refuses, then I will act myself. And this ti, I will not back down.
The next ti I look Lily Evans in the eye, I will not avert my gaze. I will declare to her that justice will be served.
"Esteed mbers," Dumbledore's voice snapped my attention back towards the well. "Those who think Lord Olario's actions were correct and whatever he did was a necessity."
It was call to raise the wands if they supported the statent. It was ti to vote.
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