Professor McGonogall
The morning of the 30th of June began like any other.
Bill Denbrough woke up in his normal bed in his normal house to his normal life. He descended the stairs in his little house in the town of Derry, located about half an hour South of Edinburgh, instinctively making his footsteps as quiet as possible.
This was a habit that Bill had learnt over the past few years. It had started after he was eight, and his little brother, George (who was four at the time), had gone missing whilst playing with a paper boat that Bill had made for him. His parents had withdrawn into themselves over the five months that Georgie was missing, and Bill had learnt to do things for himself, and to shut up if he didn’t want to frustrate them.
Things had gotten better after Georgie was found (in the trailer of the psycho cannibal, Pennywise the Dancing Clown, from the Jumping Circus with some thirty other small children in Glasgow), but they had never returned to normal. Bill wouldn't get yelled at for simply asking for help from his parents anymore, but he would still more often than not be left to fend for himself, especially if Georgie was out at his friend's house. At least his parents didn't give Georgie the same treatment; every ounce of indifference they had towards Bill, they poured into concern for Georgie.
Bill had made his own breakfast, gotten dressed and had curled up on the couch with a novel, his notebook, sketchpad and pencil case on the armrest next to him as he waited for it to warm up enough for him to go outside where he could hopefully find somewhere secluded to write and draw.
The rest of the house woke up a few minutes later, his parents and brother sitting up at the dining room table to eat breakfast, and Bill let out a small sigh of relief that he went unnoticed in the room next to them. He avoided having meals with his family not just to escape his parents' cold indifference, but also to avoid talking. He hated the disappointment in his mum's eyes every time he stuttered over a word, despite the hours she had wasted taking him to speech therapy. If he stayed calm, and spoke slowly, he could usually avoid it, but as soon as he tried to speed up or got too excited, or nervous, or too much of any other emotion, he stumbled. And he could never be anything but a pile of nerves with his parents.
After about ten minutes, his family was done, and they had all left the table to get ready for the day. Bill crept into the kitchen, giving Georgie a tight hug before his brother disappeared after his parents. The auburn haired boy puttered around the room, clearing the table and cleaning the dishes. He moved quickly, knowing that if he was finished by the time his parents were ready, his mother would give him a small 'thank you', the warmth in the words filling Bill with a floaty feeling that never failed to make him grin.
However, this morning, there was an interruption to the routine.
Just as Bill had started scrubbing the egg yolk off Georgie's smiley face plate, the cheerful chime of the doorbell peeled through the house.
"Can someone get that?" his mother's voice rang from the echoey chamber of the bathroom.
Bill waited a few moments, but there was no sound of footsteps on the stairs. His dad must have been still getting dressed.
Bill's stomach sunk as he realised he would have to answer the door. He slowly place Georgie's plate on the drying rack next to his own one (which he, as usual, he never remembered washing) and patted his hands dry on a towel. As he walked to the door, he took deep breaths, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing his churning stomach and racing heart to settle. The doorbell rang again and he walked a little faster, pausing when he put his hand on the knob to rehearse what he would say.
However, his thoughts scattered when he opened the door to fine a tall, thin lady, with a stern, lined face, wearing a robe and a pointed witch hat. Looking back, he would be proud of himself for how quickly he recovered, for he only took half a second to gulp before he was greeting the strange woman.
"H-Hello. This is the Denbrough r-residence. How may I help you?" Bill was proud of himself for only stuttering slightly, but he was still glad his mum wasn't downstairs, for she surely would have been upset that he'd wavered at all.
He thrust his fists against the post and still insists he sees the ghosts.
The woman's severe features softened slightly as her lips twitched upwards.
"Mr William Denbrough, I presume?" When Bill nodded, she went on. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I am here to deliver your admission letter and discuss with you the details of your future schooling. May I please come inside?"
Bill hid his troubled frown as his mind attempted to process what she had said.
"I-I'm not supposed to let strangers inside. I-I'll ask my parents."
The professor's smile widened slightly and she nodded approvingly. "I'll just wait here then."
Bill closed the door gently and then whirled around to find one of his parents. Luckily his mum and dad were walking down the steps, already dressed, with Georgie not far behind them.
His parents seemed surprised that Bill had answered the door, blinking and furrowing their eyebrows.
"Bill, sweetie, I didn't know that you were awake. Who's at the door?"
Bill shrugged, the butterflies in his stomach had come back after what the lady had said and at the prospect of talking to both his parents about it.
"There is a w-woman at the d-door. Sh-She says her name is P-P-Professor McG-Gonagall and that she-e wants to c-come inside t-to talk to us."
His mother frowned, and Bill's heart sunk as he knew he'd disappointed her yet again. However, she didn’t say anything to him, instead glancing at her husband before glaring at the door.
"I swear if it's another psychiatrist wanting an interview," his father muttered angrily, striding towards the door, his mother right behind him.
Neither one of Bill's parents were as good at hiding their shock as him. Bill could tell that they were both gaping at the woman on the other side of the door, even though he was just looking at their backs.
"Are you talking about magic?" his father's incredulous voice floated down the hall as Georgie joined Bill at the bottom of the stairs.
"Let me in and I can prove it to you," came the cold reply from the professor.
Their parents had a whispered discussion before the door was opening wider. Bill's mother led the woman into the living room, making eye contact with Bill and silently signally him to follow with a nod of her head.
Bill, of course, did as she bid, the natural quietness of his footsteps made even more obvious by Georgie clomping along behind him.
Bill slipped into the room and returned to the seat he had been reading on earlier, allowing Georgie to squeeze onto the couch (which was only made for one person) next to him. Bill's parents were standing close to them, ready to jump in front of them (to jump in front of Georgie) if this women turned out to be dangerous.
"Alright," Bill's dad stated, hands crossed over his chest. "Prove it to us."
The woman - Professor McGonagall, Bill reminded himself, if that really was her name - pursed her lips and fixed Bill's dad with a cold stare that made him wilt a little. Not breaking eye contact, she withdrew a stick (a wand) from somewhere within her dark green robes, and gave it a flick, causing the Bill's books, which were still perched on the arm of the chair, to float.
Georgie and Bill's parents gasped, but Bill just stared, looking between the floating objects and the woman (witch) as Bill's Dad waved his arm through the air over and under the books, probably to check for wires or something. Professor McGonagall caught Bill's eye and nodded, her lips twitching up into an almost-smile. She gave another swish of her wand, and the books floated gently back to their resting place on the arm of the couch.
Then, she pointed sharply at the coffee table, causing it to turn into a sheep with a small pop.
Exclamations of shock burst from Bill's parents and the sheep gave one, solitary bleat before the witch was flicking her wand again and it was turned back into a coffee table.
The woman folded her hands in front of her, the wand somehow disappearing from her hands.
"Do you believe me now?"
Everyone in the room silently nodded.
The woman nodded briskly, visibly taking a deep breath before fixing Bill's parents with an unimpressed stare that had them visibly shrinking into themselves.
"Now, as I said before, my name is Professor Minerva McGonagall and I am the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here because your son, William Denbrough has been accepted into our upcoming First Year class."
She withdrew a letter and brochure from somewhere in her robes and stepped forward, handing them to Bill, who was trying to wipe the shock off his face.
"These are your acceptance letter, which will also contain your school supply list, and the official brochure that we give to all of our muggleborn students."
"Muggleborn?" Georgie asked, speaking for the first time since the professor entered their house.
The witch's features softened into a warm smile as she turned to Bill's younger brother, an antithesis to her former severe expression.
"It means that his parents are non-magical people, or muggles, as they are called in the wizarding community."
"S-so, you're telling me that I'm a w-wizard," Bill stated slowly, internally grimacing at his slight stutter.
Professor McGonagall smiled kindly at him. "Yes Mr Denbrough, and I look forward to seeing you in my Transfiguration class this September."
Bill couldn't quite keep the disbelieving frown off his face. Seeing this, the professor raised her eyebrow. "Surely there has been some instance when you've done something that you can't explain?"
Her question was addressed to him, but obviously included the whole group, and Bill was too preoccupied to answer.
His mind had been sucked into a memory.
Bill was nine and he and his parents were in a small town on the outskirts of Glasgow. He had his blue rain jacket on in anticipation of the downpour that the dark clouds grumbling in the sky was promising.
He had a staple gun in one hand and a pile of missing posters in the other.
This was the first outing he'd managed to convince his parents to allow him on since Georgie had went missing in December. Bill hadn't shut up about it until they'd agreed.
He had been at it for almost an hour when things started to get strange.
He was just stapling one of his last sheets to a post at the end of the main street before the road split in a T at both ends and a clearing of grass, which was currently occupied by a circus, replaced the asphalt when a rustling from a bush next to him drew his attention.
His shoulders straightened slightly when he realised it was a snake that had made the sound. He liked snakes. They made good company for a lonely boy. And, despite the fact that his eyes had been misting with tears like they seemed to always have been over the past five months, Bill smiled a little, stepping towards the bush, and the dark green and brown scaled animal.
"Hi," he greeted tentatively, his task momentarily paused, but not forgotten.
The snake appeared surprised at being addressed, snapping its head towards him and making a pleased hiss.
"Ahhhh, a ssspeaker. I've heard of onesss like you," it said. "What isss one like you doing here?"
Bill glanced down at the papers in his hand, Georgie's face smiling up at him, dressed in the same yellow slicker and red gumboots he had been when he went missing, Bill's arm peaking in at the left of the frame from when his parents had cropped it out when creating the fliers. Bill's heart twisted at the sight, but he still showed the snake the photo.
"My brother went miss-ssing in December. I'm putting thesse up so that anyone that ssees him knows that they should call someone."
The snake froze for half a second, eyes trained on the picture, before it slithered out across the branch of the bush it had been resting on, flicking its tongue as its head moved closer to the paper, and to Bill.
"Wasss he the only one taken?" the snake asked, glancing up at Bill.
Bill shrugged. "No, but I don't know how many otherss there were."
He was afraid to ask his parents.
The snake ducked its head, twisting its neck to look towards the bustling clearing.
Bill frowned. "What is it."
The snake looked back at him. "Come with me."
It disappeared back into the bush before reappearing at the bottom of it and quickly slithering off around the edge of the clearing. With no other choice but to follow, Bill hurried after him.
The snake and Bill swiftly made their way around the circus, barely earning a glance from anyone they past.
Bill rounded the corner of the Ferris Wheel when the snake suddenly came to a stop.
"Wait here," it ordered, before vanishing into some thick glass.
Thunder rolled in the distance and Bill pulled his coat tighter around him, tucking the papers inside it and wedging the staple gun under his arm. He shifted anxiously as he waited, knowing that he should really be looking for his parents, or a police officer, or someone. But what was he going to tell them? A little snake told him so?
The snake returned a few minutes later.
"Come on. Your brother's still there and It’s out right now."
Bill hesitated. He could say he heard crying from around here. Surely the police would believe him and search. They always treated missing children cases seriously.
"Quickly. He's going to be hungry when he gets back."
Bill's stomach dropped right out of his body. He didn't need to ask what happened. He practically sprinted after the snake, going further into the thickening shadows of the small forest around the edge of the clearing and barely taking in the large trailer they were approaching. He did, however, have the awareness to register the clown painted on the side of it with the words 'Pennywise the Dancing Clown' underneath the portrait.
The snake hesitated when they got to the door. There was a small crack in the single window just large enough for it to fit through, but no way for Bill to get in.
Bill tried the handle, unsurprised to find it locked.
He let out a sigh of frustration. He couldn't hear anything, but he just knew that Georgie was in there. Every fibre of his being was screaming it. Bill squeezed the handle, feeling a jolt of energy rush down his arm. This time, when hopelessly tried to jiggle the handle again, the door clicked open.
The surprised hum in the back of Bill's throat died as soon as he saw inside the trailer. Every square inch of the interior floors, ceiling and walls was covered in thick, soundproof padding. And the scent. The scent made him gag. It smelled like nothing he had ever felt before. It smelt like death. Long, violent, painful death.
Bill swallowed down the wave of terror that washed through him and stepped into the trailer, glancing down at the snake.
"Keep a look out for It please," he asked, before disappearing inside.
The trailer seemed larger than it should have been when looking at it from the inside it. There was a bed and a table with a box on it. Bill's stomach churned sickeningly when he peered inside it and found a pile of bloodstained bones, which had been picked clean of flesh, some of them with obvious teeth indentations in them.
He crept down the impossibly long journey (that he would later realise was only a few steps) to the end of the trailer, where a large, red curtain hung obscuring the end of it. With a shaking hand, he reached out, and swept it out of the way.
What he found behind it actually did make bile rise up in his throat. Ten children were chained up, cowering away from him. The padding in this area wasn't right, but a deep pinkish red, with clots of blood clinging to the fabric. Now he knew where the stench came from.
Bill's eyes landed on Georgie, still dressed in his yellow slicker, which was torn and literally drenched in blood down his right arm. Bill fell to his knees in front of the small boy, who flinched away from him for a second before visibly doing a double take, his eyes widening as recognition sparked behind them.
"G-G-Georgie," Bill whispered, as he pulled the gag from his brother's mouth.
Tears streamed down his little brother's face. "B-Billie?"
Bill's own eyes misted but he pushed his tears down. He didn’t have time for that. His hands immediately went to the shackle on Georgie's wrist, peeling back the now red plastic, but quickly dropping it back down when he saw his brother's mutilated arm. Oh, God, was that a bite mark?
Bill suppressed his horrified shiver and put both hands on the shackle, trying to pry it off. There was a locked latch where it opened and Bill swung his head wildly around to try and find the key.
"He-he always takes it with him," Georgie murmured, his voice breaking.
Bill couldn’t hold in his frustrated huff.
"You should go, Bill," Georgie insisted, his voice shaking as he began to cry harder. "He'll be back soon. If he catches you he'll…"
Bill shook his head. He wanted more than anything to run, but he knew he couldn’t. Not with Georgie here.
He gripped the shackle, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to concentrate.
"C-come on!" he exclaimed in a whisper yell.
There was the same rush of energy through his arms, and then the manacle was cracking open.
Georgie gasped, his stream of tears momentarily stopping. Bill moved onto the other shackle, managing to open that one as well.
Georgie burst forward, wrapping Bill in hug with his one uninjured arm, sobbing as he smeared snot and blood and grim on Bill's green and black flannel.
For a few seconds, Bill considered just taking Georgie and running. They could probably make it. Get to the police before the psycho could kill all of the kids that were left, but one look at the tear and blood stained faces of the other nine kids in the trailer, some of them outright sobbing as they realised that he was thinking about abandoning them.
He put his hands on Georgie's shoulders, pushing him away gently so he could look him in the eyes.
"I want you to run into the circus. Find a parent or a policeman or someone. Make as much noise as possible. Scream. Cry. Yell. Tell them where we are."
"Y-you're not coming?" Georgie asked, his breathing speeding up.
Bill looked at him, feeling sick at the prospect of what he was about to do.
"I n-need you to be b-brave."
Georgie swallowed, his tears slowing. He looked Bill in the eyes, his expression too solemn for a boy of four - five, now, since his birthday had passed just two weeks ago.
Georgie gave his brother one last hug. "Thank you, Billie."
With that, Georgie was rushing out of the room, peering to either side of the trailer before he was sprinting towards the circus.
Bill took a deep, shaky breath once his brother had disappeared from sight. Then, he turned to the boy that had been sitting next to his brother. The poor kid burst into tears as soon as Bill grasped the chains around his wrist, his tears coming out faster as the shackle popped open. The second one was harder for Bill to open, and it took almost ten seconds of intense concentration before the boy was free.
"You h-heard what I told Georgie?" Bill asked, sliding his eyes over all of the children so they knew he wasn't just addressing the boy in front of him.
They all nodded frantically and Bill patted the boy on the shoulder.
"Go," he commanded firmly.
The boy pushed himself onto shaky feet.
"Thank…Thank you," he sobbed, before he was disappearing from the trailer.
Bill moved onto the other kids, his powers slowing down steadily as he moved on. He'd just freed the last one, a girl with flaming red hair that was probably around his age, when the snake slithered up to him.
"It'sss coming back."
Bill's eyes widened. "How long?"
"You won't get out of the trailer," the snake informed him.
Bill cursed, a word that would have gotten him grounded half a year ago, and swung his head around wildly until a glimmer of a plan sparked in his mind.
He locked eyes with the girl, whose eyes were watery with panic, but was not crying.
"Stay here," he told her. "Trust me."
The girl swallowed, visibly stamping back her tears as she took a deep breath beneath her gag and pulled her hands behind her back to hide the fact that they were free of restraint. Bill nodded, and nudged the chains behind her before diving behind the curtain.
Not a second later, there was a banging as the clown rushed into the trailer. An inhuman growl emanated from the front of the room, and lumbering steps approached. The clown was still in costume, tufts of orange hair poking out of his head and his silvery outfit reflecting the dim light eerily. The clown let out a frustrated scream, letting a long blade slip from under his poofy sleeve and land in his hand.
"Where are they?" he shouted at the girl, brandishing the knife as he looked around the pink-tinged padding.
He spun around and Bill tensed, but the clown magically did not see him. Really, it must have been magic, because the clown's eyes looked right at him, but passed over his body as if he wasn't there.
The clown turned back to the girl, and Bill caught a flash of metal, needle point dentures.
"Well, I guess I don't have to choose what I'm going to have for dinner then."
The clown stepped towards her, and Bill had no choice but to act. He leaped onto the clown's back, grabbing hold of his throat and giving the girl time to dart around the monster. The clown straightened up, trying to shake Bill off his back.
When this failed, the clown bent forward violently, sending Bill tumbling forward, and opening a long cut diagonally across his back as the clown brought his hands (and the knife) up to his head.
Bill didn't even have time to cry out before the clown was descending on him with feral growl. He crouched over Bill, pinning him down with a knee on his chest, and sniffing deeply.
"Your power smells delicious," he whispered, drool dripping down his chin and onto Bill's face. "You'll taste even better than any of the other little magicals I've tasted so far."
The clown leant down, biting into Bill's shoulder, right near the socket.
This time Bill did scream, as pain exploded up his arm. Suddenly, however, the clown was rolling away from him, teeth loosening from his shoulder and only taking a little bit of flesh with it.
Bill looked up to find the red-haired girl standing above him, a thick, femur bone in her hand, and her grotty gag hanging around her neck.
"Come on," she commanded, reaching down to pull him up.
Bill took her hand, tears springing to his eyes as his right shoulder pulled.
The girl briefly let go of him, but only to catch hold of his other arm before she started pulling him along.
Bill glanced back, seeing that the clown was already getting up. He took an extra second to scatter the contents of two boxes behind him, one of them filled with bones and the other filled with juggling equipment. He also made sure to slam the door behind him, feeling relieved as he heard the clown stumble over the obstacle and then struggle with the now, inexplicably latched lock.
They sprinted towards the circus, bursting from the tree line to find a crowd of confused people, police bustling about as they tried to get a coherent word out of the screaming children that had materialised.
Heads snapped their way as they stumbled towards the group.
"He-He's b-b-back th-there," Bill managed to get out.
The policeman that had stepped towards them looked into the shadowy trees, nodding briskly, and gesturing to a few other officers before disappearing after it.
Some paramedics came forward, draping blankets around them and leading them away.
"It's all going to be okay now. You're safe," the woman beside Bill assured him.
Bill caught sight of Georgie being loaded into the back of an ambulance, his parents hovering around him. He didn't know if he believed her, but at least this nightmare was coming to an end.
After that, things had been different. Doors were never locked for Bill. Sometimes, if he was really anxious, Henry Bowers and his goons would pass right by him, even if he was just sitting on a bench and Bowers was calling his name. Or, he would be running from them and then somehow materialise somewhere safe and far away.
There were other, smaller things as well. He only ever seemed to need to do one dish before all the washing was done, and the same went for hanging out clothes, or weeding. Sometimes things would move towards his hand from the other side of the room. The list went on, and Bill was sought of ashamed that he was only now piecing it all together.
Professor McGonagall was looking at him expectantly, but, when he didn’t offer anything up, his family filled in the silence.
"Sometimes I could swear that his hair and eye colours changed right before my eyes," his mum whispered.
"I've seen his bike fix itself," his dad offered.
"Billi's drawings and books never get ruined, even if I spill water on them by accident," Georgie murmured.
The witch nodded. "There, you see? Magic."
She turned back to his parents, resuming her firm, commanding tone as she handed them a piece of parchment.
"Here is a list of all of the places that your son will be able to obtain his school supplies within Scotland, as well as the nearest branch of Gringotts Bank, where you will be able to exchange your currency for wizarding money. However, I would highly recommend going to Diagon Alley, as it has long been reputed to have the largest range of supplies, as well as the best wand shop in all of Britain. Although, I have heard that the Ollivanders sometimes do house visits, but it really would be more prudent to just go into the shop."
Both of her parents nodded profusely, Bill's father looking more than a little intimidated.
Bill's mother, however, nodded at Professor McGonagall. Bill could tell she was in business mode, a tone and demeanour she reserved for work.
"That is fine, Professor McGonagall. I have a business trip to London scheduled for tomorrow, I'll take Bill with me while and we can visit Diagon Alley while down there."
Professor McGonagall gave a brisk, approving nod, before she was turning and walking back towards the door.
"I shall be going then. I still have a few more stops to make."
The whole family followed her to the door, staring after until Bill took the initiative and took a step forwards, pretending that he was a businessman, like his mum was. "Thank you, Professor. I look forward to seeing you at school."
The witch favoured him with another approving nod and a small smile before she was striding out of the house, the door swinging shut behind.
Silence descended upon the Denbrough household for a few moments after her departure, as both parents regarded Bill with a sought of wide-eyed awe, focusing more attention on him than they had in months.
His mother was the one that broke the trance.
"We still need to get Georgie to his friend's house and run our errands for the day," she reminded everyone, putting a hand on Georgie's shoulder to steer him towards the door.
"Bill, dear, why don't you read your letter and pack while I'm back there?"
Bill nodded, turning away from his family and finally allowing a giddy grin to slip onto his face.
He had magic!