Love Magnificence

[maritelske]

Well, I posted this on ff.net so I thought I might post it here also

Summary: Following the death of Sirius Black, Minerva McGonagall is determined to keep Harry safe – but nothing is ever quite as it seems.

Rating: M, for suggested material

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise and probably nothing else, either.

Dedication: To Minniequill.

LOVE MAGNIFICENCE

It was a moonless night – the darkness sweeping across the grand expanse of the Hogwart’s grounds – and the only light that broke the endless horizon was a dim glow from Hagrid’s hut, the lake shimmering below.

The light from the hut seemed to stretch forever – glistening across the lake, and catching the whites of the eyes of a lone figure who stood at the waters edge.

A thestral called into the cold night yet the boy seemed hardly to notice – staring haplessly against the night sky, palms pressed together and fingers entwined. And even though he knew the castle behind him was full of students and professors, Harry Potter felt entirely alone as his eyes searched the darkness.

He could not think of a reason to return to the throes of the Great Hall, nor to the end of year celebrations he was sure would follow. He could not even bring himself to return to his friends – to Ron, to Hermione – who he was sure would be waiting for him, waiting to talk, waiting to listen...

He did not want to talk nor listen.

And so, wanting to be alone, he had disappeared under his Invisibility Cloak and made his way onto the grounds – hoping to find some sort of peace in the silence.

From the head master’s window, Minerva McGonagall watched his every move – and as she did so, she felt older than she ever had done before.

“Come away from the window, Minerva” Albus Dumbledore’s words seemed to neither surprise her, nor cause her to move in the slightest. Instead she stood, resolute, gazing out through the glass panes.

“He is hurting, Albus” She whispered, crossing her arms over her chest, her tartan robe sweeping gently across the floor as she did so. She could think of nothing more to say, and the headmaster could think of nothing to say to the contrary – so instead, they stood in silence.

It was only minutes later that Minerva felt the familiar touch of Albus’ arms around her waist as he turned her back to the darkened sky, their eyes meeting.

“Albus, I think Harry must stay with us this summer”

Albus, his eyes shining with a plethora of emotions, immediately took a step back and turned, pacing the length of his office.

“That is out of the question” No sooner had he spoken the words than he already knew what her answer would be – and he was not wrong.

“Indeed it is not! I told you, Albus Dumbledore, I said that when you left the boy at that awful home sixteen years ago – ”

“ – Minerva, I have asked you not to doubt my decisions”

“I do not doubt them, my husband,” She whispered, her hands falling loosely by her side as she desperately seeked for the right words, “But perhaps I doubt the events which follow. I do not doubt your reasoning, but I do doubt Harry’s safety”

“I have thought of nothing but his safety since that night” His voice was laden with emotion, his heart heavy as he thought of Harry standing alone in the night without reason to continue. Albus knew what Sirius’s death would do to the boy, but he had never assumed Minerva’s own reaction.

“Last summer... the dementors, Albus. And this summer he will not have Sirius. I do not trust him to be alone”

“You do not trust him, or you do not trust Voldemort?”

She tensed ever so slightly at hearing The Dark Lords name, and then turned – her silhouette standing out so perfectly against the light that streamed in through the window.

It was not the first time in their marriage that Albus Dumbledore found himself quite lost for breath at her sheer beauty – the strength of her character that he saw echoed in her eyes.

“I don’t trust anyone outside these walls for the moment” Her cheeks burned as she stepped away from the window, crossing the room to take his hands in her own, “I will not have you convince me otherwise. Harry would be safer with us – where we can keep an eye on him”

“No,” Albus disagreed, removing his hand from her grasp, “Minerva – that is not the case. Harry is safest at his aunt’s house, where he is under the protec – ”

“ – I know what he is under the protection of!” She cried out, her Scottish temper shining through, “I know very well why you left him there! But he is not safe, Albus – the dementors attacked him last year!”

“I assure you Minerva, that despite what you may think, my memory is in perfect order”

“OH!” Her fury was now in her eyes, and in that moment Albus realised it was an argument he would never win, “You are a foolish old man, Albus Dumbledore”

“Minerva” He sighed heavily, wanting desperately to reach for her hand.

“NO!” She snapped, turning furiously as soon as he attempted it, “Don’t you dare touch me” And then she left the office in a fury of tartan, slamming the door behind her.

From his perch, Fawkes let out a low, mournful cry and Albus sighed, sweeping across the length of his office to gaze out at the grounds below, his eyes searching.

Quite unaware of the argument occurring in the head master’s office, Harry sat beside the edge of the lake – alone with his thoughts, his hands clenched in his fists as the realisation that he would never hear from his godfather again caused his chest to constrict, an invisible chain wrapping around his heart and rendering him speechless.

He was so deep in thought that he did not notice the figure approaching from the castle moments later – the light from Hagrid’s hut catching on the distinct silver beard of the intruder.

“Harry” Dumbledore’s voice broke his silence and he looked up quickly, unclenching his fists and standing hurriedly.

“Professor, I’m sorry... about your office... I...” But he could not seem to find the right words, and instead he sighed – his eyes not daring to meet the Dumbledore’s out of his own shame.

“I quite understand” The headmaster promised, and came to a pause beside him – his eyes flickering into the darkness and beyond, “Harry... it seems to me that you would be safest with me this summer”

“With you, sir?” Harry looked up and, despite the lateness of the hour, his shock was still vastly apparent across his features.

“Yes” Dumbledore affirmed, but said no more – and Harry seemed to understand, “You will return to your aunts, of course, but only for a brief period of time. I will collect you after a fortnight. There are things I must attend to first”

“Yes, Professor” Harry nodded, and said no more as they continued to stare out across the lake – two figures against a world of change.

Watching from her own office’s window, Minerva McGonagall smiled in dawning realisation.

- - -

“And he wants you to stay with him? Blimey!” Ron looked thoroughly shocked to hear this news, though to Hermione it did not seem wholly unexpected.

“He must care about you an awful lot, Harry” She smiled, her Charms textbook lying quite forgotten on the rug before them.

Soon after his conversation with Dumbledore, Harry had returned to the common room to find both Hermione and Ron waiting for him, just as he had expected. Harry, who had been dreading talking about Sirius, was pleased to see that the news that he would be living with Dumbledore for the summer seemed to take precedence.

“But... what will you talk about?” Ron asked, now looking more than just a little confused, “I mean... he’s the head master!”

Hermione shook her head with laughter, “Not everybody finds it as difficult to converse with those they admire as you do, Ronald”

“That’s not true!” He was indignant as he crossed his arms across his chest, his forehead furrowing as Harry watched them both with a bemused expression.

“What about Phlegm?” Hermione giggled, and Harry laughed. It was infectious, and soon all three of them were laughing as the fire in the Gryffindor common room crackled and roared, “You must write, Harry. We will try to visit if we can” She promised fervently, and Ron nodded in agreeance.

“Thanks” Harry smiled, despite the hollowness he felt in his heart at the sight of the fire burning beyond. Suddenly, everything seemed to remind him of his loss – and he was more grateful than ever to have two such friends.

“We’re here for you mate,” Ron promised, seeming to understand – and Hermione cast a look in his direction, smiling as her hair fell across her face. Momentarily distracted, Ron quickly regained his thoughts and he returned his attention to Harry, “But... if you will be staying with Dumbledore, then wont you be staying at Hogwart’s for the summer?”

It was a thought that Harry hadn’t yet considered.

“Of course not. Dumbledore must have a home somewhere. He would not stay here for the whole summer. I suspect he will keep Harry as far away from Hogwart’s as possible” Hermione said with a touch of asperity.

“Oh, right then” Ron nodded seemingly knowingly as he reached for a Chocolate Frog from the packet on the common room table, “But... how would he have time to keep a home away from Hogwarts?”

“Well, perhaps he has a family” Hermione suggested, and Ron almost choked on the frog in his mouth, spluttering and spitting rather unattractively in his shock. Curling up her noise, Hermione wiped her robes dry with the back of her hand – though Ron seemed hardly to notice, and continued to gape.

“A family!”

“Just because he is headmaster of Hogwarts doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a family” As Hermione spoke, Harry began to realise how very little he knew about Dumbledore, despite all the times they had been alone – all the events he had shared. Was it possible...?

But Harry was unable to answer even his own question, because soon after Fawkes burned in flames before him – causing Ron to call out in shock, while Hermione smiled, transfixed.

Seconds later, the Phoenix disappeared once more – and a role of parchment hovered where the flames had appeared, marked clearly with the words Harry Potter.

“That bird scared the – ” Ron began, before he was cut off.

“ – It’s for you, Harry” Hermione nodded encouragingly, though Harry suspected he already knew the contents of the letter. As his hands unrolled the parchment, he smiled.

Dear Harry,

If it is convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive on Friday the...

And so the parchment continued in the distinctive cursive, purple handwriting – with Harry reading every word carefully, before rereading the entire thing again. Opposite him, Ron reached for another Chocolate Frog.

“Well?” Hermione asked, once he had rolled it up again and held it carefully in his hand.

“Dumbledore is going to collect me in a fortnight, just like he said. But we wont be travelling to Hogwarts” Giving a righteous smile, Hermione nodded.

“I told you so”

Ron rolled his eyes.

- - -

It was exactly a fortnight later when Dumbledore first arrived on the doorstep of Harry’s aunt and uncle – much to the horror of both Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Their only son, Dudley, had rushed upstairs in the horror of seeing such a strangely dressed man in their living room.

But to Harry, the headmaster of Hogwart’s arrival was not unexpected and it was with an awkward smile that he followed him down the Privet Drive – before Dumbledore offered him his arm. Moments later, he felt the distinct sensation of being out of breath as the air swirled around them.

When they arrived at their destination just seconds later, Harrywas faced with the magnificent sight of a grand mansion before them, forest surrounding the property.

“Professor... this is your home?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Follow me Harry” Dumbledore nodded in the direction of the estate and they walked down the bricked path to the front of the house. It was then that Harry first saw the front door, with the letter ‘M’ engrained into the wood. Above it, the door was decorated with a stain glass windowpane that offered the first glimpse into the mansion, a staircase only just visible from behind the coloured glass.

With a flick of Dumbledore’s wand, the door opened to reveal Harry’s first proper look at the house beyond – the grand staircase disappearing above. In the lounge, a fire appeared in the fire place quite on it’s own accord – and some sort of dinner seemed to be cooking itself in the kitchen, the smell of chicken and pumpkin filling the air.

On the couch in the front of the fire, a tartan robe was thrown haphazardly over the cushions and another grand, cursive, golden ‘M’ rested on the wall beyond.

“You will find your room upstairs, Harry. Third floor – first door on your left. The house elves have already arranged your belongings”

Still feeling as though he ought not to be there, Harry looked around the lounge room once more before turning his gaze back to the wizard before him.

“Thank you, sir”

“I suspect you should be heading up to your room. Hedwig is waiting” Dumbledore offered by way of explanation, and Harry gave a small smile as he made his way up the staircase. The third step squeaked underneath his footing, and a house elf bustled past once he reached the second floor – and despite his feeling of being uncomfortable, he almost had to smile as he caught his first glance of the view from his window. A blue lake sparkled in the grounds, the expanse of forest grazing against the horizon of snow capped mountains.

He had never even imagined that Dumbledore would live in such peace – nor had he ever entertained the thought that his headmaster would live anywhere but Hogwarts. In fact, the whole situation was so new to him that he found himself quite at a loss and he would’ve continued to gather his surroundings had it not been for Hedwig hooting impatiently from her cage.

Half an hour later, after unpacking his belongings and letting Hedwig to fly the grounds, Harry returned downstairs – climbing down the three flights of stairs once more.

It wasn’t until he reached the first floor that he realised Dumbledore was not alone, and he heard a distinctively Scottish voice float from downstairs.

“You haven’t told him? Honestly, Albus...”

Instantly, Harry knew whose voice it was. Trying to be quiet, he made his way down the last flight of stairs – only to have his presence betrayed by the squeaking of the third step.

Professor Minerva McGonagall came into view a mere second later, smiling at him warmly.

“Hello, Potter”

“Professor McGonagall” Harry managed to say in his surprise, finally appearing in the lounge room. Dumbledore stood behind the couch where Harry could not but notice that the tartan robe had disappeared from view.

“I trust you found your room alright?” Minerva enquired, though Dumbledore did not meet either of their eyes.

“Yes, thank you” Harry nodded, though he was not sure to whom he was meant to direct the thanks.

As he saw Dumbledore shift quite uncharacteristically in his place, Harry began to realise exactly whose home he had entered. The ‘M’ on the door, the photos in the hall, the tartan robe...

“I suspect you must be starving. Perhaps you’d like some afternoon tea?”

“That would be great, thanks” He smiled awkwardly at his Transfiguration professor as she offered him a seat in the kitchen, though Dumbledore still had not moved and instead continued to gaze into the fire.

“A cup of tea, perhaps?” Minerva suggested and a cup and saucer immediately appeared before him. A plate of biscuits that smelt distinctly like ginger followed, “Would you like some – ”

“ – I must be going” Dumbledore finally spoke; now facing both the occupants of the kitchen.

“So soon?” Minerva asked, her voice almost betraying her, and he nodded.

“I will return later on. Harry, Professor McGonagall will be here in my absence. I trust you enjoy the Ginger Newts”

With a crack, he disappeared.

An awkward silence followed, broken only by the kettle on the stove shrilling loudly – the water bowling over the hot plate. Sighing heavily, Minerva flicked her wand and cleaned the mess, hovering the kettle over Harry’s tea cup as the water poured itself.

“You must be hungry” She smiled at him encouragingly, sitting opposite him at the mahogany table as she offered him a ginger biscuit, “I’m sorry about Professor Dumbledore, Potter. With the order... there is alot to be seen to” She offered by way of explanation, and he nodded – his mouth full of biscuit, “Have another” She smiled again, and pushed the plate in his direction.

Silence ensued and Harry, who found it unbearable, reached hurriedly for another biscuit.

“Professor...” He began, not sure quite how to approach the subject he so desperately wished to talk about.

“Yes?” Minerva McGonagall looked at him over the rim of her glasses, and suddenly he was reminded of the stern Transfiguration professor he had always known. With a sigh, he shook his head.

“These biscuits are great”

- - -

It was not until much later that evening when Albus returned back to the mansion, sweeping through the front door in robes of purple and silver stars. He glanced about the room, but Harry was nowhere to be found.

The only occupant of the room was Minerva, who was sitting on the couch in front of the roaring fire with a book in her hands. Albus smiled once his eyes settled on her form, and he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead as she looked up at him.

“Welcome home” She whispered, keeping her voice low as she gestured upstairs, “Harry is in his room”

“Harry” Albus sighed, sitting down beside her. The fire before them crackled and glowed a majestic purple, before returning to it’s original red hue – though neither of them seemed hardly to notice.

“The boy looks up to you like you would not believe, Albus Dumbledore. At least have the decency to tell him the truth”

“The truth?” Albus regarded his wife briefly, as he began to massage his temples with his fore fingers.

She closed her book and gazed at him, resolute, “Don’t you think you owe him that much?”

“Perhaps” He agreed, and then sighed, staring into the dancing flames before them, though Minerva did not take her eyes off him, “He must surely have questions to ask”

“Yes” She nodded and took her hand in his, letting their fingers curl together as he returned his eyes to her own – those eyes that seemed to go on forever, that seemed to touch the very inner of her heart.

“I will be back soon” He whispered, bringing her hand to his lips before pressing a kiss against the palm of her hand.

And as he began to walk the three flights of stairs to the guest room, the sun flooded through the lounge room window – a myriad of red and orange hues, causing Minerva’s skin to glow in the magnificent sun set.

TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: Reviews very much appreciated.

[Isabelle]

I read this at ff.net, but didn't have the chance to review yet.

This is absolutely wonderful so far. The depth of both Minerva's and Albus' emotions are very palpable. I also like how Harry discusses the prospect of living with Dumbledore with Ron and Hermione. It makes Dumbledore seem more 'human' in a way, the way they discuss it.

Ron is perfectly in character-a little slow on the uptake and painfully honest and tactless. It's perfect!

I do hope things bode well for both Dumbledore and Harry!

Isabelle

[furandfeathers]

I really like this! Please continue

[maritelske]

A/N: Thank you all for your lovely reviews of the last chapter. The fact that you took the time to let me know what you thought means a great deal. I hope you enjoy this next chapter just as much, before the plot thickens once again...

Reflection

Harry had just finished scrawling on a piece of parchment to Ron when he first heard the footsteps of someone approaching his room – and he hurriedly stood, straightening out the bed spread as he did so. He wasn’t sure exactly why, except perhaps that the imposition he felt like he was placing on his professors had convinced him to remain neat and tidy throughout his stay.

Just moments later, Dumbledore appeared in the doorway – a striking silhouette against the fading sunlight that bore through the hallway windows. He knocked gently, though it was both obvious and evident that he was there.

“May I come in?” Dumbledore asked, bowing his head slightly in Harry’s direction.

“Yeah... yeah, of course” Feeling even more awkward than he had earlier, Harry offered a confused smile as the headmaster conjured a plush chair at the edge of the room. Taking the lead, he sat down and gestured for Harry to do the same.

Another constrained silence followed as Harry took the initiative to sit at the edge of the straightened bed, feeling entirely inept at such a situation. Dumbledore, however, appeared to be quite at ease – looking over the edge of his poised fingers, his eyes fixed decisively on Harry.

Yet Harry wasn’t quite sure where to look, and so busied himself with folding away the parchment he had previously been writing own. His mind raced with a thousand questions – all of them as personal as the last – and for a moment, Harry was quite unsure if he would ever be able to voice them.

Dumbledore, sensing his uneasiness, lowered his hands and finally spoke, “You must have many things to ask”

“You told me everything about the Prophecy, Professor”

“Yes, but there must surely be other things you want to ask of?” As his eyes seemed to bore right through his mind, Harry tried to will himself to hold his tongue. After all, it was none of his business and he could think of a thousand reasons why Dumbledore would never reveal what Harry was so desperate to know. But then, Dumbledore seemed to be encouraging him to ask...

“There are a few things, sir” Harry finally admitted, and Dumbledore flashed the briefest of smiles.

“Then you may ask”

Suddenly Harry was reminded of Dumbledore’s words just weeks earlier, under entirely differently circumstances... ‘I cared about you too much...’ At the time, he had been too angry to understand their importance – but now they continued to float through his thoughts like an endless mantra.

“I was just wondering... when you left the school, after Umbridge... Was this where you came?” Looking hopeful, Harry turned towards the silver-haired wizard before him – who nodded slowly.

“Yes, this was where I came” Dumbledore offered by way of explanation, waving his hand lazily towards the window, “I enjoy the view”

“And... This is Professor McGonagall’s house, isn’t it?” Convinced that he had now asked too much, Harry looked away from Dumbledore’s piercing stare. Expecting a rejection, he was just as surprised to see Dumbledore incline his head once more.

“Yes, it was her parents,” And then he paused, pressing his fingers together once more, “Though she acquired it in 1946”

“So that would be soon after you defeated Grindelwald?”

“Soon after, yes” Dumbledore nodded once more, his eyes twinkling brightly in the fading sunlight, still seeming so at ease that they might have been discussing the weather.

“Sir... how long have you lived here?” Once again, there was a palpable silence, as he seemed to regard Harry with bewildered wonderment, his blue eyes shining with ever so slight traces of mirth.

“Since 1956 – the year Professor McGonagall began teaching at Hogwarts” The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place, and Harry knew the answer to his next question before he had even asked it.

“Do you mind if I ask you one more thing?”

“Certainly not” Dumbledore smiled, his face now seemingly more brighter as he hummed to himself, his legs swinging ever so slightly.

“When did you marry?” Harry, who had asked the question almost disbelieving his own dutch courage, could not help but notice that his head master seemed faintly amused – and rather than looking affronted, smiling encouragingly at Harry.

“I see then, that Professor McGonagall’s assurances that you would not understand have been wrong”

“It was the ‘M’ on the doorway that gave it away” Harry explained, and Dumbledore nodded in understanding.

“Indeed. We have been married since 1952”

The moment he said the words, Harry felt oddly empty – as though perhaps the rug had been pulled from under his feet, and now he stood without breath or stability.

“Does anyone know?” He asked, finding his voice once more.

For a moment, Dumbledore paused, now regarding his fingertips as though they perhaps held all the secrets to the universe within them.

“I think not. You see, Harry, after I defeated Grindelwald... well, that was around the time I received my first accolade in the from of a Chocolate Frog card. Professor McGonagall had been a student of mine, though it wasn’t until several years after Hogwarts that I saw her again. I was at a height of certain popularity and Professor McGonagall had become a very powerful witch in her own regard”

“And you think, if people did know, it would create a scandal?”

“I am not worried about such things as scandals, Harry” Dumbledore smiled once more, though it was a softer smile – a smile full of understanding, “I worry about my families safety. But now I think it high time for a spot of desert, don’t you?”

Nodding mutely, Harry followed him numbly back downstairs, the distinct smell of lemon floating from the kitchen and invading his senses. Dumbledore took great ease in tracing the stairs, as though perhaps he had walked them a thousand times before – and, as Harry assumed, he probably had.

But when they reached the landing of the first floor, Dumbledore stopped and turned – facing Harry with the greatest seriousness.

“Harry, I would appreciate it if you kept what I have just told you to yourself”

“Yes, sir”

“You may, of course, tell Ron and Hermione”

“But they - ”

“ - No, I think not” Dumbledore finished for him, now turning to continue his descent down the stairs, “Miss Granger’s family wouldn’t know me from a teapot, and Mr Weasley’s parents have been very good friends of ours for many years. Since Voldemort first came to power, Molly Weasley has sent us an anniversary present every year. I think I own at least twenty different pairs of knitted socks now. I’m rather fond of socks”

At the knowledge that the Weasley’s had also known, Harry felt a pang of fury grow at the very base of his spine, his forehead furrowed. The events at the Ministry of Magic, the knowledge of the prophecy, Sirius’s death... Suddenly, it all felt entirely too much.

Harry felt like someone who had missed the last step – and that he was now free falling through the entire unknown, though Dumbledore seemed hardly to notice and hummed to himself quite pleasantly as he strolled into the kitchen.

“I made lemon surprise pudding,” Minerva explained with a smile, assuming Harry’s confusion to be in regards to the smell of lemon that now filled the entire house, though he continued to look uncharacteristically aloof.

“Thank you, Professor. But I think I might just go to bed” He forced a smile that did not quite reach his eyes, while Dumbledore’s own gaze seemed to tear right through him once more.

“Of course... well, you just let me know if there’s anything you need” With another smile, Minerva bid him goodnight and Harry traipsed back upstairs, passing the house elf once more as he did so, “Oh, honestly Albus!” Minerva sighed furiously once Harry was out of earshot, as she threw her tea towel onto the bench.

“Yes?” Albus, who had been staring vaguely towards the spot where Harry had been standing, turned to face her once more.

“Did you tell him?”

“About our marriage? Yes, of course. He seemed to take it quite well”

“Quite well?” She gaped at him indignantly, “Quite well? It didn’t look like he took it at all! Oh, you should never have told him”

“I should never have told him? Wasn’t it you who told me to tell him?”

“Well, yes, but you probably went in there all wands blazing, hitting him with far too much information at once. He needs security!” Yet another silence infiltrated the room, and it wasn’t for the first time that night that Albus Dumbledore found himself almost lost for words as he regarded his wife – her burning eyes, her furrowed expression – the way her nails dug raw into her palm.

“Minerva, I have never asked for anything from you but respect for my decisions. In this case, it was you who asked me to tell Harry. It was you who asked me to bring him here for the summer, and now it is you who is accusing me of being wrong”

The emotion in his voice was unmistakable, and Minerva found herself quite unable to speak – an invisible, black fibre twisting it’s way around her heart. It was with a heavy sigh that her countenance changed, and her eyes softened.

“I just think with everything that he has been through...” Her voice trailed off, and she found herself unable to think of a reasonable explanation for the way she felt – the utter protectiveness that had grasped around her very being without so much as a warning.

“I did not ask for this to happen, nor did I cause it,” He paused as he stared out into the quickly darkening night sky, “I’m sorry Minerva, I can’t stay for desert. There are things I must attend to”

“Surely they can wait until morning?” She asked, an almost desperate pleading burning through her words.

“I’m afraid they can not wait a moment. You are right; Harry has been through far too much... I am merely trying to appease the burden” He turned to his wife with a look of absolute sincerity in his eyes – a darkness hidden behind the mist of blue that she had learnt to recognise only after decades of marriage...

He said nothing else before there was a loud crack – and he was gone.

Alone, Minerva sat at the kitchen table – the lemon surprise pudding slowly burning in the heated oven.

- -

“I thought perhaps you could go to The Burrow for the day?” Minerva looked over the rim of her glasses at Harry, who was sitting calmly at the kitchen table – The Daily Prophet spread out before him.

Yet no sooner had she said the words than Harry’s focus changed entirely, and he snapped up from his reverie.

“Yeah... I mean, yeah – that’d be great” Grinning, Harry felt himself feeling lighter already.

“You can go by Floo after breakfast” Minerva nodded approvingly as she stated her plans, and continued to levitate her watering can over the pot plants that adorned the kitchen windowsill.

“Okay, great. Thanks, Professor” With a smile, Harry finished his toast as quickly as he could manage and, after thanking her for breakfast, ran two steps at a time to his room to change his clothes and pack a small bag of belongings. Just fifteen minutes later, he returned downstairs to find Professor McGonagall in an entirely new set of robes – her hair still wound in a tight bun against her head.

“Well, ready to go then?”

“Wait... Professor?”

“Yes, Potter?” Minerva regarded him once more – and Harry could not help but notice how tired her eyes looked, the way lines of grief seemed to etch across her forehead.

He shook his head wordlessly, indicating that it was nothing.

“Very well then. Well, have a nice time. Molly is expecting you” And with a soft smile, Minerva threw the powder into the fire – which crackled and roared with green flames.

Moments later, Harry found himself in the Weasley’s lounge room and no sooner had he regained his composure than he heard Mrs Weasley’s voice calling out from the kitchen, before she came sweeping into the lounge and pulled him into a warm hug.

“Harry, dear! Oh, Professor Dumbledore has told us everything of course. Oh, gosh! You’re still as thin as a broom. Here, come and have something to eat” And with that, she pushed him encouragingly into the kitchen.

“Wotcher, Harry” Even without seeing her, Harry could tell that Tonks was exhausted. But it wasn’t until he saw her, sitting at the kitchen table, that he realised the full extent of her exhaustion. Her hair was no longer bright, but rather a mousey brown. Her eyes were dark and sunken, and it looked to Harry as though she had been crying.

“Hey, Tonks” He smiled at her and she waved a careless hand.

“HARRY!” The distinct voices of both Ron and Hermione could be heard from upstairs, before two pairs of feet were heard running down the stairs. With a small smile, Tonks stood.

“I suspect your friends will be waiting to see you. Thanks for the tea, Mrs Weasley”

“Oh no, dear – you can stay. Harry doesn’t mind, does he?” Molly smiled approvingly at Tonks, and Harry nodded in complete agreeance – but she wasn’t having a bar of it, and gave a small smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

“No, thanks anyway... must get going... Order stuff, you know” And no sooner had she walked out the door than Hermione had reached the kitchen, throwing her arms around Harry. Just seconds later, Ron appeared into view – grinning madly.

“I knew Dumbledore’d let you come round. Though it took mum a right lot of convincing” He offered by way of explanation, sitting down at the kitchen table – though Molly seemed hardly to notice, instead watching as Tonks walked alone down the garden path, “Didn’t it mum?”

“What’s that dear?” She asked, returning her attentions back to the trio who now sat at her kitchen table as several packets of biscuits began to float from the cupboard and onto the table, followed by three cups of tea.

“I was just saying that... oh, never mind. So, how’s Dumbledore’s?” Ron asked Harry encouragingly, and Hermione nodded earnestly.

“It must be fascinating. I’m sure his house is spectacular”

“Well, actually... it’s not really his hou – ” Harry began, but was immediately cut off by the appearance of both Fred and George, who almost landed right on top of Hermione after having apparated down stairs.

“ – Oh, HONESTLY! Just because you can do magic doesn’t mean you need to cause havoc in my household!” Molly shrieked, chasing after both of them with a tea cosy before the twins sought refuge in between Harry and Ron.

“Harry, we’ve heard all about your summer” George grinned wickedly, and Fred beamed.

“Tell us everything about Dumbledore”

“What’s he like at home?”

“Does he snore?”

“Does he have any pets?”

“Does he sing in the shower?”

“Oh, BOYS!” Molly cried, entirely exasperated as she set two more cups on the table – the teapot hovering over each one as it poured five neat cups of steaming tea, “What would Professor Dumbledore say if he knew you were interrogating Harry in this way?”

“I suspect that he’d be expecting it” Fred said with a grin, leaning back in his chair and George nodded in wholehearted approval.

It was over an hour before they’d all finished their tea - after Hermione had spoken of her holiday to Greece and Ron had told everyone about his freak encounter with a garden gnome who he swore appeared out of nowhere. Harry, who was waiting for the time when he could speak to Ron and Hermione alone, was happy just to listen – grinning as Ginny recounted the time she had beat Ron at playing seeker in the back yard just days earlier, when Fred and George had jinxed one of Crookshank’s toys to fly like a snitch.

Eventually, Fred and George decided they had to leave for their shop in Diagon Alley, and Ginny stated that she had an important owl to send – so Harry finally found the time to speak the truth.

“Well, whose house is it?” Ron asked in a low whisper, not entirely sure if his younger sister was out of hearing range.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” Exasperated, Hermione gave a small grin, “After we spoke about Dumbledore having a family, I thought back. Who’s the one person who we always see him with? And who would always defend him?”

Harry, who said nothing, stared at Hermione in bewildered awe while Ron continued to remain in the dark, clearly racking his brains for a solution.

“I don’t know... Hagrid?”

“Oh, honestly Ronald!” Hermione cried, shaking her head as she laughed to herself, “No... Professor McGonagall”

“WHAT? Hermione you have gone too far this time. It can’t be her... I mean... she’s so - ”

“ - Hermione’s right” Harry finished for him, and Hermione gave a small nod of approval, while Ron continued to look lost, “I had no idea either. He told me last night. Professor McGonagall was there when I arrived”

“But, I mean...” Ron stuttered, apparently incapable of finding the right words.

“I saw them dancing together, at the Yule ball. After you’d both gone to bed and Viktor and I... Well, I mean obviously I couldn’t hear anything so I just assumed... I suppose that’s when I first began to wonder” Ron, who had looked slightly sullen at Hermione’s mention of Viktor, said nothing else and instead sat in shocked silence.

“They’ve been married for decades” Harry explained, though he could not explain the rising in his chest he felt at speaking the words – the feeling of betrayal that racked through him.

Eventually, it was Ron who spoke first.

“Bloody hell” He murmured, before silence fell over them once more as they tried to grasp the enormity of what had just been revealed.

“But... why is Dumbledore never there? Surely if he asked you to stay for the summer then it would be to ensure he can keep an eye on you” Hermione thought out loud, now frowning slightly in the mid morning sunlight.

“Well, it’s not as though he’s never there... but he left after we arrived yesterday, and he didn’t come home last night... I mean, I don’t think he did. He wasn’t at breakfast”

“Wait,” Ron finally spoke, silencing both his friends as he looked at them in realisation, “You had breakfast with McGonagall?”

“Honestly, Ronald! That is the least of Harry’s worries now. I’m sure Professor McGonagall is quite fascinating in her own right”

“Yeah, when she’s not busy telling us off” Ron murmured under his breath. Harry grinned and Hermione looked at them both with the air of someone entirely perplexed.

“Dumbledore’s probably just busy with the order” Harry shrugged, reaching for another biscuit. But Hermione, who did not seem convinced, merely nodded – and stared out into the glaring sunlight which filtered through the kitchen window.

“But it seems strange, doesn’t it? First he didn’t want you to stay at your aunts, and then Mrs Weasley almost had to twist his arm to allow you to come here for the day, and even then it was only because he and Professor McGonagall wouldn’t be at home...”

“And Tonks was here today,” Ron continued for her, still finishing off the remnants of his biscuit while Hermione watched him disapprovingly as several crumbs flew onto the table, “She said something about Dumbledore not having been at an Order meeting for weeks and – ”

What it was that Ron was going to say, Harry never learnt – for moments later, Ginny reappeared with a smile across her face, seating herself back at the table as the conversation turned towards the house elves and Quidditch.

It was in those moments of laughter that Harry could almost forget.

- - -

Soon after Harry had left, Albus found himself once again outside the manor. The night he had had was spoken only in his darkened eyes, the smearing of dirt and of blood across his robes. Without a thought, he entered the house once more - pleased that he had the foresight to allow Molly to take Harry for the day.

No sooner had walked through the door way than Minerva appeared into view, her eyes flickering across his cut face, the slashings across his robes...

"My goodness, what happened to you?" She asked, her voice full of confusion and worry as she stepped towards him, tracing her fingers lightly over the cuts across his cheeks. He bent towards her, offering no explanation, as his hands traced across the curves of her body with genuine desire marring each touch.

"I need you" He said in barely more than a whisper as she looked up at him with eyes that spoke a thousand words.

"Then take what you need, my husband" She murmured against the curve of his throat as his hands began their assult across her hips, the curve of her thigh, "I would give you anything"

TO BE CONTINUED

[kissofdeath]

alright im hooked. You must update soon. (and this is coming from the girl who updates practically monthly, lol)

[kankulex]

WOW... I just discovered this story now and it's just... WONDERFUL! I'm completely hooked to and impatiently waiting for MORE!

[tartanmin]

kankulex said:

WOW... I just discovered this story now and it's just... WONDERFUL! I'm completely hooked to and impatiently waiting for MORE!

so am I.. update as soon as possible.. ;D
love it

[furandfeathers]

I concur... completely hooked. Pleeeeeease update soon!

[KSpirit]

Oh, please hurry and update! I've been sucked in too, so I can't wait for the next instalment!

[beMMADfabulous]

Oh...my...gosh!! This is BRILLIANT!! I love your writing style, and I'm in love with this story. ;D Update soon!

[maritelske]

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. My sincerest thanks come with this chapter for inspiring me to continue. Next chapter brings about some time travelling, a host of characters and a saucy minx. Damn right.

Dedication: To members of the ADMM board, of course. The ship floats.

Defining

Silence prevailed across the McGonagall manor – the heavy sighs, the quickened breaths – all those sounds that had previously filled the first floor had now died away to nothing but blind murmurings of adoration as Minerva lay beside her husband, her arm slung across his bare chest.

She felt free, as he placed a chaste kiss to her skin – his warmed hands running along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

“The death eaters followed me,” Albus whispered against her temple, his fingers now curling across her waist.

Somehow, his wife had already known.

“Where are they now?” She asked, her eyes burning like emerald fire through the darkness of the room as he gave a soft laugh that caused her heard to soar.

“Somewhere in Wales, I would imagine. I sent them on quite the wild phoenix chase” Again, he kissed her temple – unable to resist her closeness, the way her fingers traced with a ghost-like presence across his skin.

“I worry, Albus... I worry that one day, you wont return” Through the darkened room, he heard her words perfectly – and though he could not see her face, he could hear the pain in every breath.

“I will always return to you,” And as he spoke with such ardent emotion, the panes of the bedroom windows glowed with a brilliant silver light – an aura of endless light that neither seemed to notice, so steeped that they were in the moment that was entirely their own. “You are what saves me... you have always saved me”

From downstairs, Fawkes let out a soft and gentle cry.

- - -

“You must not blame Dumbledore, Harry. I am sure he wanted to tell you... Dumbledore admires you with everything he has” Hermione implored, while Ron continued to look vague and unfamiliar to the situation at hand.

But Harry could feel his jaw tightening once more, the anger quickening at the very bottom of his stomach – growing more pronounced with each moment.

“But he didn’t admire me enough to tell me he’s married?”

“Harry!” Now looking positively distraught, Hermione sat up and faced him with an intensity he had never known from her, “Dumbledore is the only wizard You Know Who has ever feared. But that does not mean he fears Dumbledore’s family. If he ever found out about their marriage, I am sure...” She paused, lowering her voice, “I’m sure that he would kill her”

“But I’m not Voldemort! I have never been Voldemort!” The fury of losing Sirius, of Dumbledore’s betrayal, Snape, Kreacher... A thousand different moments seemed to rush past Harry, causing his scar to ache with pain – his heart to swell with the undeniable burden of grief.

Hermione’s eyes were filled with tears, and Ron looked on hopelessly as she pushed away his hand, determined to make Harry see reason.

“Dumbledore would never have told anyone this before... Don’t you see? Don’t you see?” She cried out, her look in her eyes now going beyond sheer understanding, “He trusts you beyond anyone else Harry! He told you knowing that you would not tell anyone outside this room. And yet you choose to see it as a betrayal”

Suddenly, Harry could remember nothing but the echo of his head master’s voice filling his head, the words that seemed so insignificant then... ‘It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities...’

For a fleeting moment, for the briefest hopes of hopes, Harry could understand.

“You’re right” In a voice that did not seem to be his own, Harry finally spoke.

“Harry, Dumbledore... Dumbledore doesn’t see you as just a student. I think he truly loves you” Hermione seemed to whisper, before her voice grew stronger – more resolute, “But Professor McGonagall is his wife... he is just trying to protect her”

Ron reached for Hermione’s hand once more, his fingers curling around hers again as she lowered her eyes, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

Feeling as though he was betraying their most intimate thoughts, Harry turned away – alone with his thoughts as he gave a heavy sigh. Hermione, seeming to understand, threw her arms around both he and Ron and sobbed into Ron’s shoulder.

“ ‘Er-my-nee... Yuff sqwashing my noff!” Ron’s strained tones filtered through the room, and almost instantly, the three friends began to laugh – as Hermione released them both, and laughed and cried all at once, her tears now falling freely.

“Oh, Harry dear, there you – Oh! Hermione! Are you alright?” Mrs Weasley had come bursting in the room, apparently looking for Harry, but now only had eyes for Hermione – helping her up and handing her a freshly conjured handkerchief.

“I’m fine, thank you” Hermione’s radiating smile and laughter seemed to dispel any of Molly Weasley’s worries, and she rubbed her gently on the back.

“There, there. Everything is going to be okay” The way she spoke the words made Harry think that there were more for her own benefit than for theirs, but she continued on, “Now, Harry – Professor Dumbledore has sent a request for you to return back to the Manor”

And just moments later, he found himself in front of the Weasley’s fire place, as Mrs Weasley, Ron and Hermione promised they would see him soon...

In a flash of flames, he found himself under the gold and embellished ‘M’ once more – with Dumbledore standing in front of him.

“I trust you had a good day?” Smiling serenely, Dumbledore was sitting back in the grand lounge suite that adorned the room, looking quite at ease.

“Yeah... yeah, thank you” Suddenly being at The Burrow seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Something is bothering you, Harry” Dumbledore spoke quietly, as though perhaps they were discussing the weather.

“Sir, I wonder if I might ask you another question...” His voice drifted off, and he looked uneasily about the room – as though wondering if sitting beside Dumbledore on the couch would indeed be an intrusion. However, Dumbledore gestured quite welcomingly for Harry to sit beside him and Harry took this to be an answer in the affirmative, “When Siri...” Taking in a deep breath, and twisting his fingers together, Harry gazed into the blazing fire before them, “After we returned from the Department of Mysteries... you told me that you understood... that you could understand what it was like to lose a loved one in battle”

“Indeed” Dumbledore nodded knowingly, now studying his fingers once more – a habit, which Harry found both calming and madly frustrating.

“Were you thinking of Professor McGonagall?”

There was a silence that lingered – a haziness that seemed to overcome Dumbledore’s bright blue gaze.

“Before the first war, Professor McGonagall was an auror. I did not want her to fight, least of all against Voldemort. You see, she went to school with Tom Riddle... She, apart from my brother, was my last remaining family” His eyes were now a glassy blue – rimmed with unshed tears, “Your willingness to protect Sirius goes far beyond the comprehension of anyone who has never lost a loved one... You and I are so much alike, Harry, in ways you may never understand”

“Was it after the first war that you decided not to reveal your marriage?”

“No,” Dumbledore said, with the tone of someone who had a terrible mistake, “It was long before the first war. Grindelwald also had supporters... The first war only served to remind me of how important it was to keep our marriage a secret. Voldemort had always feared me, but he would show no such mercy for those I loved – of that I was sure”

Once again, Harry was reminded of the Burrow and of Hermione’s words... He felt even uneasier than he had before hand, and his fingers dug into the cushion on the lounge suite.

“But I was not prepared to show Tom such fear, either. Though he was gaining power... Lord Voldemort has always underestimated the power of love. But I, forgive me for my modesty, I have not. I have always seen it to be the most powerful magic of all. Our marriage seemed to be a way to prove to ourselves, no more so than others, that love was still a constant... despite the horror that the war had bestowed. You see, Harry... it is important to go on fighting – to always go on fighting... but to never lose sight of your heart along the way. Tom Riddle has never realised that, and for his mistake, I pity him”

A lone tear slipped down Dumbledore’s cheek and such a display of emotion seemed to cause the fire before them to crackle and roar – a spectacular array of flames appearing where the once subdued ashes had been. But Harry seemed hardly to notice as he remembered a thousand moments... When he had first flown on a broom... when Hermione had beaten the troll... of a young Ron, to scared to trust Devil’s Snare... of Hagrid, returning from Azkaban... of flying into Sirius’s arms... of Dumbledore, his arms out stretched, welcoming in a new school year... of Seamus, and Dean, and Neville... the DA meetings... And of his own parents, and the photo that had sat by his bed over countless nights.

As silence fell over the Manor once more, Harry knew for the first time what it meant to have a power that Voldemort would know not.

In that moment, Harry was sure he could have produced the world’s greatest patronus.

The fire seemed to have calmed, and Harry could immediately see why. Professor McGonagall’s Scottish tilt filled the room as she came downstairs.

“Hello, Potter” She said with a warm smile that Harry was still not quite used to being bestowed with, “I hope you had a good day?” Looking quite relaxed, she continued to tie up her hair off her face as she walked.

“Yes, thank you” Smiling, Harry’s eyes flitted between both Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, who seemed to stare at each other as though speaking a language entirely their own.

“It’s a fine evening. Perhaps we could go for a walk?” She raised an eyebrow as she met her husband’s eyes, and he nodded in agreeance.

“You know, if you would rather go alone then I don’t – ” Harry began, before Professor McGonagall raised her wand hand to silence him, her dark green eyes seeming to see right through him.

“Don’t be silly, Potter” And despite her stern tone, there was an understanding in her smile that seemed to speak louder than words as she handed him a warm jumper to wear over his clothes.

But any plans they had had for a quiet walk were forgotten with the arrival of a brilliant, silver patronus that appeared in the room as Alastor Moody’s growling voice filled the room.

Albus, you’re needed. Fudge sacked.

To Harry, it seemed amazing that with the announcement of such a message – Dumbledore could look so completely calm as he conjured his travelling cloak, pulling it over his robes.

“I’m sorry, Minerva, I must – ” She shook her head as he seeked forgiveness, and after meeting her eyes in a moment that burned with passion – he disapparated with a pop.

A prevailing silence seemed to settle across the room, as Minerva seemed to stare, fixated on the spot from where Dumbledore had disappeared.

Her arms crossed over her chest, she gave a slight smile.

“You know,” Minerva began, casting a timid glance in Harry’s direction, “Your parents used to bring you to the Order meetings often and one day... one day, you were so restless that I had to sing eight rounds of ‘Teika the Nymph’ until you fell asleep”

It was the last thing he had expected her to say, and the very image of his stern Transfiguration professor singing wizarding lullabies to him as a baby caused Harry laugh, his cheeks slightly flushed, “I’m sorry Professor, it’s just that...”

His voice seemed to betray him, as he tried to explain the myriad of thoughts running through his mind. The life he had lost had never seemed so real as when people spoke to him about his parents and when he was a child – but Minerva seemed to understand, and she gave him a warm smile as she walked towards the kitchen, pulling her robes firmly around herself as though she were cold.

“Professor, what did Moody mean, when he said that Fudge had been sacked? Surely the ministry can’t sack him?”

“It has been coming on for weeks” She replied, a confidence in her voice that seemed foreign to the way she appeared to be held together with nothing more than the thread of her robes, “After the truth about You Know Who was finally realised... well, I’ve always said Fudge was the worst thing that ever happened to that place, anyway”

“And do you think, with Fudge gone, it will be any better?”

She had her back to him now, as she levitated pots and pans onto the stove – intending to begin on dinner.

“Of course not. The ministry will continue to assure everyone that things are not as bad as they seem. I’ve seen it all before. I used to work for the ministry”

“I know, Dumbledore told me” Harry explain, deciding that he may as well be entirely honest – though his admittance didn’t seem to surprise his professor in the slightest.

“He told you everything, did he?”

“No, he didn’t... he never mentioned why you stopped working as an Auror” Minerva sighed heavily, her expression almost culpable, as though she had perhaps been caught out in the act of something untoward.

“I can tell you exactly why I decided to start working as an Auror. I had an argument with my cousin – who told me I would never amount to anything. You know of her, actually”

“Oh?” Harry could not hide his curiosity, and she let out a bitter laugh.

“Yes, Dolores Umbridge”

It seemed to take a moment for the words to sink in as he stared at her, entirely shocked.

“Umbridge... she’s your cousin?”

“Indeed, though we hadn’t spoken for years until she arrived at Hogwarts. She was never interested in fighting the dark... you may have noticed that in your dealings with her” As she spoke, Harry could almost feel the scars on his hand tingling in memory.

“Yeah... yeah, I noticed” He said as he hurriedly pulled his sleeve over his hands.

“So, after my argument with my cousin elevated into a family feud – I decided that I would prove them all wrong. I was far too head strong, much like you self” She cast him a smile, and he knew better than to feel offended, “But by the time I married, I wanted different things in life. It was a simple as that”

“But, surely you enjoyed your work... I mean, don’t you have to study hard to become an auror?”

“Of course you do” She lowered her eyes, which were cloudy behind the rim of her glasses, “But things change, Potter” And for the first time in all his years at Hogwarts, Harry felt as though the Professor of Transfiguration was hiding something from him, “Now, would you like chicken for tea? Good, I’ll begin cooking then shall I...”

The tone in her voice indicated that she was no longer at ease, and she been to rather ruthlessly cut up the vegetables before her, her jaw clenched.

“That sounds great... I have some, uh... letters to write anyway. Thanks, Professor” And with that, he turned and left the kitchen – running two stairs at a time back to the guest room.

- - -

It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning when Minerva felt Albus return to their bed, changing into his nightclothes before slipping into the covers beside her – his fingers brushing across her hipbone as he curled his arm around her waist.

“I’ve been waiting” Her voice was soft as she pressed her back to his front, relishing in his touch.

“I’m sorry”

“What happened?” Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh.

“Fudge was sacked – an overthrow at the ministry” He explained, though could not quite emphasise the disarray that befallen the institution, “Scrimgeour has replaced him”

“Scrimgeour? But I thought...” Minerva began, attempting to turn in his arms. Instead, he pressed a lingering kiss her cheek, her collarbone...

It was a moment that filled the air with aimless heat – a moment that was both immense and disastrous, and soft, and tender and real.

To be continued

A/N: Reviews make the world go around!

[maritelske]

With thanks to beMMADfabulous, one of my favourite authors who has inspired me to keep going.

Or as Dory said, 'just keep swimming'

Truth

When Harry woke in the morning, Dumbledore was gone – and instead, Professor McGonagall sat at the kitchen table – a tawny owl hooting happily beside her, The Daily Prophet open in front of her.

“Who’s Scrimgeour?” Harry, unable to help himself, found his eyes reading over the front cover of the paper as he poured himself a bowl of cereal at the bench.

“The new Minister of Magic”

“But I was sure that they’d ask Dumbledore...” Minerva gave a low laugh, turning the page of the paper as she did so, her eyes barely leaving the print.

“Professor Dumbledore wont leave Hogwarts” Her words seemed to reassure Harry, and he sat down opposite her at the table – spoon poised in his hand.

“Will Scrimgeour be any good, do you think?”

“I imagine so. From my dealings with him, he seems quite apt”

“Do you know him?”

“Yes, we’ve met” Her words seemed to shorten as she said this, her tone being almost indistinguishably tense, “Now, please eat your breakfast – there is an Order meeting and I said that we – ”

“When do we leave?” Harry asked, unable to contain his excitement, his mouth full of cereal – and Minerva gave him a look that was clearly disapproving.

“Eat with your mouth closed” She replied tersely, before folding up The Prophet and opening the kitchen window to allow her owl to fly free. He swallowed quickly, and then resumed to the conversation at hand.

“When do we leave?” His question was met with a stern look from Minerva, who closed the window just as quickly as she had opened it with a flick of her wand.

“In a half hour. Now, eat your breakfast. I will be upstairs”

In a swish of tartan, she was gone – and Harry was left to wonder exactly what it was that he had said.

- - -

“I just think... well, you know... You Know Who doesn’t exactly discriminate, does he?”

“Thank you, Nymphadora – we are well aware of the politics of war”

“Don’t – call – me – Nymphadora!”

Harry and Professor McGonagall had only just arrived at The Burrow by apparition when Harry heard the strains of conversation from the meeting – and by the time they reached the lounge, Tonks hair was crimson with her fury.

“Oh, Minerva! Harry!” Molly stood up instantly, kissing Minerva on the cheek and hugging Harry warmly, “Come, here... sit down... sit down” Looking a little bewildered, Harry sat down beside both Ron and Hermione who both smiled at him – though the atmosphere was not quite as welcoming as his reception.

Alastor Moody was pacing the floor furiously after his argument with Tonks, whose hair had still not changed colour, Remus looked sullen and lost amongst the argument, Kingsley continued to stare out the window, apparently entirely calm, while Molly tried to diffuse the entire situation by offering everyone another round of cake.

And in the very corner of the room, his wife seated beside him, Albus Dumbledore held his palms together tightly – as though he were lost in thought, in a world a thousand miles from their own...

“Cake, Harry?” Molly held the plate in front of him hopefully, giving him an encouraging nod, “It’s Ron’s favourite” Hermione curled her nose as Ron helped himself to another slice, crumbs of the cake landing on his chin as he grinned stupidly.

“Honestly, Ronald...” Hermione muttered under her breath, and Professor McGonagall cast a reproachful look in Ron’s direction. Harry, taking this as an indication to stop mucking about, let his expression become solemn as he surveyed the room.

Tonks didn’t seem to be talking to anyone at all as she stood, her arms crossed over her chest, against the wall – her hair still a brilliant shade of crimson. The colour of her hair allowed Harry to quickly gauge the mood of the room – evidently, the meeting was not going well.

“Right, now if you don’t mind...” Moody began yet again, and Dedalus Diggle became so excited that his violet hat promptly fell off his head. Hestia Jones glared at him, and Moody continued, “Fudge is gone, so we’re left with Scrimgeour. We’ve got to keep an eye him,” As he said this, his magical eye swivelled brilliantly, lingering on Minerva – who continued to stare resolutely ahead, “Now is the time to act, Minerva”

Silence prevailed through the room, and not even Molly could find an excuse to save herself from the heightened emotion.

“Do you really think that wise, Alastor?” All eyes were on Dumbledore as he spoke – a commanding tone in his voice as all eyes turned to him.

“War is upon us – surely you must see that. Now is the time to act! We must infiltrate” Moody’s eye continued to move ominously as he spoke.

“We will not infiltrate!” It was the angriest Harry had ever seen Dumbledore and he watched in bewildered awe as the head master rose from his chair – a striking silhouette against the light that streamed in through the window as his voice broke the silence. His eyes were not twinkling, nor were his palms still pressed together. Instead, his jaw was clenched and he looked remarkably unlike any side of him Harry had ever seen before.

“We will not infiltrate, Alastor” He repeated, more calmly this time, as Tonks hair began to fade to a deep blue, “Voldemort has a power far beyond the Ministry... Scrimgeour is not his puppet”

“How can you be so sure?” Remus, who had otherwise been quite silent – his eyes watching Tonks with a softness Harry could not place, finally spoke. There was a murmuring amongst the members, though Minerva continued to remain quite silent.

“If Voldemort was controlling the Ministry, Scrimgeour would be dead” Arthur Weasley said simply, and Dumbledore subsequently regained his composure, turning to stare out the window – his back to the meeting as his blue robes swept the floor.

“Alright, alright” Moody gave a heavy sigh, clearly seeking support from the other members, “But you can not deny that Scrimgeour needs watching, Albus”

“I am not denying it”

“Good. Then Minerva will go to him tomorrow, and return to us – ”

“I believe Kingsley would be better suited” Dumbledore’s calm voice reverberated throughout the room, though Harry was sure he could hear a slight edge in his words – the only indication of the inner turmoil he was facing.

“Kingsley has other things on his agenda” Moody growled, apparently now entirely fed up, “I don’t see why it worries you so much – you’ve hardly been to a meeting in the past fortnight, we’ve seen nothing of you, we’ve had no correspondence, not to mention that - ”

“Alastor!” Molly reprimanded, trying to keep the peace.

“He is quite right,” Dumbledore continued serenely, still with his back facing the order, as Molly gaped – shocked, “Though I assure you I have not been idle”

“And are we supposed to take your word for this? You could have sent a message, surely Albus. Or are your actions to be kept a secret?” Alastor sneered uncharacteristically, his scarred face now scrunched ever so slightly in the bursting sunlight.

“Stop,” Speaking for the first time since her arrival, Minerva’s voice was strong and unwavering, “How can we face our enemies if we do not stand united?”

“Here, here” Hestia Jones gave an approving nod and Hermione looked almost pleased, watching as Dumbledore’s demeanour seemed to change – the way his shoulders seemed to relax as Minerva spoke...

“It will do us no good to argue. Can we not move on to the next matter? There is a war at hand, as you so kindly remind us, Alastor. We can not afford to waste time”

“Then you agree to go to Scrimgeour? You know very well that he will tell you” Harry, who looked as confused as ever, gave Ron a questioning look – clearly seeking answers – but there were none to be had, and Moody did not expand on his statement.

“If you believe there is something to tell then yes, I will go” Her Scottish tilt filled the air, though her words did not seem to register with Dumbledore who continued to cast a striking presence beside the window.

“Good. Right, the next item on the agenda. Remus, what news is there?”

“The werewolves are slowly joining Voldemort. Greyback is particularly loyal to him. I fear it is a losing battle”

“Then you should get out while you still can” Kingsley said, quite seriously and Tonks eyes lingered over Remus, full of concern.

“A similar situation can be said in regard to the giants” Elphias Doge explained, his voice wheezy as he spoke with lengthened vowels, and Charlie Weasley mistakenly gave him a good clap on the back, causing Elphias to splutter and Ron to break out into stifled laughter.

“But, surely...” Hermione finally found the courage to speak – her voice uncharacteristically small, “I mean, surely it is not simply a matter of the giants or the werewolves choosing to fight for evil... perhaps Voldemort was the highest bidder. Maybe if we were the highest bidder then...” Her voice trailed off, and she cast a diffident glance around the room.

Silence prevailed until finally Bill Weasley spoke, his voice strong and unwavering.

“Hermione’s right, she’s been right all along” As he said this, Hermione straightened her posture, “I’ve been working on the Goblins – taking the post at Gringott’s helped with that, and Fleur’s been helping out” Fleur, who gave nothing that resembled a smile, pushed her flowing hair over her shoulder and made a small sound that sounded like triumph. Molly pursed her lips.

“Goblins are handy sorts of creatures, to be sure” Moody nodded approvingly, a dull clunk echoing through the room as he shifted on the spot where he stood at the back of the room, his vivid blue eye moving quite independently as he surveyed the room.

“I must be going, I am afraid” Dumbledore’s voice pierced the silence once more as he walked purposively across the floor boards of the Weasley’s lounge room.

“So soon? But we haven’t even had lunch yet!” Molly looked horrified at the very thought of a guest leaving without a proper meal, but Dumbledore merely waved his hand nonchalantly.

“As good as your cooking always is Molly, I really must be going. Thank you for allowing the meeting to impose on your kind hospitality. Good day, Molly. Good day, Alastor” And with a brief inclination of his star-covered hat, he left the meeting without once looking back.

“Well, then... Would anyone else care for some lunch?” There was a murmuring of approval from everyone in the room, and one by one they began to file out of the lounge – with only Harry, Ron and Hermione lingering behind.

“I tell you what, Dumbledore is bloody scary when he’s angry” Ron muttered as he stood up from his position beside Hermione on the couch, stretching his arms as he did so.

“He looked absolutely furious...” Hermione’s voice drifted off once more, as she seemingly recalled the events that had played out in front of them, “Of course! After all, they worked together! And she would have... yes, yes, it all makes sense now”

“Yeah, absolutely” Ron replied sarcastically, “It definitely makes sense for me. How about you, Harry?”

“Oh, don’t you see?” She cried, now looking quite wild as her eyes shone with her discovery, “Professor Moody said that Professor McGonagall was the only one who could make Scrimgeour talk”

“Yeah, but with a glare like old McGonagall’s, you’d bet she’d be able to make him talk” Ron stated simply and Hermione glared at him once more, her cheeks flushed.

“I don’t understand what you mean?” Feeling even more confused than he had earlier, Harry looked at Hermione quite hopelessly, his forehead furrowed. Ron, it appeared, did not understand any better than he did.

“Honestly! Harry, you said Professor McGonagall used to be an auror... so of course she knows Scrimgeour. She would have worked with him once! Oh, I’m absolutely sure of it!” Her voice seemed to have risen in tone once more, and she seemed thoroughly pleased with herself, “Perhaps they were friends. And of course Professor Moody would know, because he used to work with them. It all makes sense!”

“Dumbledore didn’t seem too happy about Moody offering McGonagall up for the bait though, did he?” Ron commented as his eyes began to wander in the direction of the kitchen – his mind clearly on lunch and the smell of roasted potatoes that had since filled the air.

“And what about Lupin? He looks more exhausted today than he did last week” Speaking in agreeance, a million thoughts raced through Harry’s mind – the way Dumbledore’s shoulders had seemed to fall, the way Minerva had remained to stoic, how Tonks had said not a word...

“Everyone is exhausted these days. Honestly, Ronald” Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron continued to stare down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, “Oh, let’s just go and get some lunch. Maybe we will get a chance to speak to Professor Lupin”

And with that, the three of them disappeared back down the hallway, once again finding themselves with more questions than they had answers.

- - -

It was sometime later that Harry found himself walking the grounds of the Manor with Professor McGonagall beside him as they continued through the great spans of forest that surrounded the house, the afternoon sun flickering across their faces. It had been only after they had left the Weasley’s that Professor McGonagall had suggested they go for a walk, and no sooner had they left than Harry found himself suffering in one of the awkward silences that seemed to transpire between them.

But, this time, it was McGonagall who spoke first.

“You know, Potter... I thought you teaching the Dark Arts... well, despite your actions breaking about a hundred school rules, I thought it was admirable. Your father in particular would have been very proud”

It took Harry a few moments to find the right words, and he was happy for the distraction of pushing aside fern branches as the walked – but no words seemed quite enough to explain how much it meant to him, to hear of his parents...

“Thank you, Professor” He gave a soft smile, and she seemed to understand, smiling to herself as they stepped into a clearing in the forest, “It was Hermione’s idea... she thought that it might be a good idea, to stand up for ourselves”

“Indeed” McGonagall nodded and her smile only seemed to grow, “A very wise idea, I think”

“Professor, did you used to work with Scrimgeour?” Her smile was gone now as her eyes flashed with a look of something, or someone, that Harry could not place.

“Yes, we worked together. Once. A very long time ago. But that is quite inconsequential, I assure you”

“I see” Harry replied, rather sullenly, though he did not understand at all, “And why is it that Mad-Eye Moody and Professor Dumbledore don’t get along anymore?”

“Of course they get along,” Professor McGonagall snapped, quite unintentionally, and he was reminded of her transfiguration classroom that seemed a thousand lifetimes away at that moment. She continued to walk through the broken ferns – sticks breaking under her footing as Harry followed in her wake.

She slowed once the rear of the house came into full view, and turned to Harry with a softness that was undeniably unlike any side of her he had ever seen before, “What you must remember is that even the very best of friends can argue when they do not agree on the truth”

And she walked forward once more, towards the manor, as the afternoon sun began to bleed into a sunset of red hues.

To be continued.

[dianahawthorne]

ahh!! I'm dying to see what Minerva and Scrimgeour's relationship is... please update soon! This is such a good story!

[beMMADfabulous]

maritelske said:

With thanks to beMMADfabulous, one of my favourite authors who has inspired me to keep going.

Aww! *sniffs* That's so sweet! *blushes*

I'm glad you're going on with this story because it's really well written and very interesting!

[kankulex]

Yes!! Update, update, update! *dancesaround*
I love it!

[tartanmin]

dianahawthorne said:

ahh!! I'm dying to see what Minerva and Scrimgeour's relationship is... please update soon! This is such a good story!

I so agree, why did Albus get so angry, and why won't Minerva talk about it..

Please update soon I need answers

[furandfeathers]

I can't believe I almost missed this last update. It's marvelous! I can't wait to see why Dumbledore was so angry about Minerva going to see Scrimgeour... pleeeeease update soon!

[revolutionaryetude]

UGH ... so did they get the memory for Scrimgeour so that Voldemorte can't get it? I hope Dumbledore gets over it soon. More please!

[maritelske]

A/N: With thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It is always nice to hear that people are reading so please let me know what you think of this chapter.

Taking claim

Dumbledore had not returned home that night, or the night after – and Harry begun to wonder if he ever planned to return home again.

To Professor McGonagall, his absence did not seem wholly unexpected and so Harry, who felt as though there seemed to be so much to do, put it out of his mind. Fleur had enlisted him with the unhappy task of helping to plan her wedding – which meant that he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny spent long days together, laughing over flower arrangements and dance recitals – the hours mixed with games of Quidditch and Mrs Weasley’s cooking.

They had spent that very morning helping Ron clean his room, only to be interrupted by Tonks enthusiastic voice from below, growing shriller by the minute – followed by Professor McGonagall’s calming, Scottish reply.

“You could just go in there and ask him?” Tonks suggested, as Harry, Ron and Hermione walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Can you really see her asking the Minister ‘So, Scrimgeour, been under the Imperius course lately’?” Remus retorted with a shake of his head, sinking comfortably back into his chair as Tonks fumed, her head turning her a fiery red as she crossed her arms and looked indignant.

“Oh, honestly!” With a sigh, Minerva threw her arms up into the air and, catching sight of her students, swished her wand promptly - causing the plans that had been so neatly laid out before them to suddenly roll up and disappear off the table, leaving Molly with room to serve lunch.

“What are you trying to do?” Ron asked hopefully, hoping for a bit of extra information. Without Fred and George at home, their efforts to eaves drop seemed almost futile and Hermione had nearly given up entirely

“Never you mind,” Mrs Weasley replied with a stern look as she served everyone fresh sandwiches, “Now Arthur will be back after lunch, Minerva, and then you can head into the Ministry with him”

“Thank you” Minerva gave a warm smile as she helped herself to a plate of sandwiches. However, Ron looked wholly irritated as he glanced at Hermione for support but she gave him such a smug look in reply that he crossed his arms, looking even more irritated than he had before.

“We still haven’t decided what you’re going to say to Scrimgeour” Tonks said pointedly, helping herself to a sandwich as she did so. Remus’ eyes followed her every movement, though he looked away as soon as her eyes met his.

Minerva’s upper lip stiffened significantly at discussing such matters in front of the children, and she merely inclined her head, “I have spoken over the matter with Alastor” And with a careless wave of her hand, she signalled the end of the conversation.

At that very moment, Arthur Weasley came bustling through the door, a handful of bolts in one hand and an identifiable rubber object in the other.

“Afternoon, all! Ah, Harry, just the person I wanted to see. Tell me, exactly what do I do with this thing here?”

“It’s a... it’s a plug” Hermione had to suppress a giggle as Arthur dangled the plug by it’s chain in front of Harry, looking at the object the upmost awe, as though it perhaps held all the answers of the universe.

“Oh, I’ve seen one of these before!” Tonks cried, excitedly, as she reached for the plug, “Apparently muggles use them to stop water going down the drain”

“Don’t be ridiculously, Tonks. It would get stuck in the drain!” Molly looked outraged at the idea of using a piece of plastic to block her drain, and asked herself once again how exactly it was that Muggles seemed to exist without fault.

“No, she’s right,” Hermione, explained patiently, “I mean... oh, Professor – can you please transfigure my cup into a basin?” She looked up at Professor McGonagall hopefully and, though she looked disapprovingly at the Muggle object she obliged and transfigured the cup into a tiny, silver basin. Both Arthur and Tonks peered hopefully into its depths as Hermione placed the plug over the hole in the sink. Arthur looked delighted.

“I will never know how muggles come up with these ideas! What did you call it again?” He asked, now gazing at the plug lovingly, “A plut?”

“No, no... a plug” Hermione giggled as the basin resumed it’s form of a cup once more, and Tonks rolled her eyes.

“It seems a silly idea to me. Why don’t they just get rid of the hole in the basin?”

“But then where would the water go?” Harry asked and Tonks opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it once more – not being able to think of a better alternative.

Standing up and taking her travelling cloak into her arms, Minerva looked at Arthur, who had since kissed his wife on the cheek in greeting, “Well, then – shall we get going?”

“Ah, good idea Minerva. Quite right you are! See you tonight Molly. Have a good day!” He beamed at the occupants of the table and then placed the plug into Hermione’s hands, “Look after it for me, wont you? Alright, alright, I’m going” He announced again, catching Molly’s disapproving look, and he followed Minerva out the door.

“Well, that’s that then. I don’t know where Arthur gets his love of muggle things from... Tonks, dear, would you like a cup of tea? How about you, Remus?”

But Remus looked entirely lost in his own thoughts as his eyes watched Tonks, and he appeared disorientated when he was woken from his reverie.

“I’m sorry, what was that Molly?”

“Oh, you poor dear. You must be exhausted! I was only asking if you’d like a cup of tea, but perhaps some rest would do you good?”

“Yes, I think you’re quite right. I think rest is definitely in order. Thank you for the lunch, Molly. Goodbye Harry, Ron, Hermione. Goodbye, Tonks” Their eyes met briefly, and then he fled the room.

Harry was surprised to see the look of regret across Tonks’ weary face.

- - -

Sometime later, Minerva found herself walking the familiar steps of the Ministry of Magic – the imposing grandeur evident from every corner of the Atrium.

“I see nothing has changed, then?” She gave a mere smile as she nodded to familiar faces, noting that the Fountain of Magical Brethren had been returned to its former glory.

Suddenly, she was reminded of a memory so old that it seemed a lifetime ago. Of days of bliss, days filled with love – when she had been so young, and so in love – running the exact same steps as she walked now, to fly into Albus’ arms as he finished a proceeding at the Wizengamot.

She was so lost in the thought that she seemed hardly to hear Arthur speaking to her, her mind elsewhere.

“You need to head up to level one to find Scrimgeour” He explained as they stepped into the lift, and she nodded numbly, still at a loss with her thoughts, “Good luck!” Arthur beamed at her as he stepped out of the lift and onto his floor, leaving her to travel onwards alone.

She gave a rueful smile to herself as her emotions seemed to get the better of her. The ministry held so many memories – both of her past career, and of Albus...

Yet before she had even had a chance to collect her thoughts, the doors to the lift opened and she was faced with the undeniably presence of Scrimgeour.

“Minerva?” He looked at her in shock, apparently surprised by her unheralded visit, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you were coming”

“Hello, Rufus” She smiled, though it did not quite reach her eyes, and he turned to gesture to his office.

“Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” She looked around the entrance hall to his office in awe. The door handles to every office on the first level were sculpted ornate, golden birds – the walls painted in a detailed fresco that filled the offices with colour from the circular windows that had been bewitched to let in an artificial sunlight.

“Not at all,” Scrimgeour nodded curtly towards his office, and she followed him inside to the room. His desk was situated in front of the largest mirror she had ever seen – rimmed with a golden frame. The wooden desk had four perfectly curved legs, the light from the windows bathing the object in a warm glow, “How have you been?” He seemed to smile at her in a way that seemed entirely familiar as she sat down opposite him at the desk – in a seat unlike anything she had ever seen before. The cushion was a red silk, and it was adorned with two golden birds whose wings stretched out to form the back of the chair.

“I am quite well, thank you. And yourself?” He seemed too polite, too forgiving – and Minerva suddenly felt entirely uncomfortable, remembering a time not so long ago when he had spoken to her in such a way under entirely different circumstances.

“No complaints” He said with a lopsided smile, leaning back in his chair as he regarded her with a gaze that seemed to burn, “What is that you came to speak to me about, Minerva?”

“I see I can not keep a lie from you then” She gave a soft laugh.

“We worked together for far too many years for you to get away with your secrets now” She let out a soft sigh as he mentioned her work as an Auror. It felt like another lifetime to her – when she was young, and nothing else had seemed to matter.

But fate had played a greater part in her life than she was willingly to admit.

“Do you remember my first Ministry Conference, Rufus?”

“Of course I remember” He inclined his head and she could almost see the thoughts racing through his mind.

“That was when I first saw Albus Dumbledore again, as you know”

“I do know that” The tone in his voice had changed again now, and in speaking her husband’s name to such a man, Minerva felt as though she were betraying the smallest part of her soul – revealing a secret that had always been her own.

“I have come to ask you to give me the memory of that night”

For the first time in his very long career, Rufus Scrimgeour found himself quite lost for words – his eyes peering at Minerva in such a way that it forced her to feel entirely uncertain, though her gaze remained resolute.

“Can I ask why it is that you want this memory? Why now, after so many years?”

“It is my belief that Voldemort has been using Harry Potter for information. In no uncertain terms, the contact I have had with Harry this year has forced me to consider my own safety as well as the safety of Albus”

“And you think me giving you this memory will help?”

“I do” She replied, her voice apparently calm and strong against a wave of emotion that seemed to consume her very being. Neither of them missed the irony in her words.

Scrimgeour regarded her once more, seeing nothing but absolutely honesty in her eyes.

“Very well. You may have it. It is of no use to me” He gave a small smile, and used his wand to pull the memory out from his temple – a slither of bright silver that moved ceaselessly. When Minerva touched her wand to it, it blended with her own memory and drew the room into a moment that had passed a thousand moons before...

- - -

August 3rd, 1947

It was only the second time he had seen her in the three years since her graduation – and she entered the Ministry conference with a beauty he had not forgotten, her elegant fingers laced through her dark robes as she walked across the length of the room, her eyes meeting his in a moment that seemed to last forever.

She smiled, and the moment passed as she joined her colleagues from the Auror department, standing strong, resolute, unwavering.

Albus Dumbledore had never wanted to reach out for anyone more than he did in those few moments when their eyes had met, and spoken of a future that was entirely their own.

“Minerva Elsbeth McGonagall, Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Alastor Benedict Moody, Department of Magical Law Enforcement...” The announcer continued to herald their arrival, as one by one the members of the Auror office took their places in their seats.

They were followed by representation from the Department of Mysteries, and then the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

Finally, the minister reached the representatives of the Wizengamot and inclined his head in Dumbledore’s direction.

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore” No title was deemed necessary as a roar of cheers erupted from the room from Ministry workers and Magical folk alike.

For Minerva, the accolade he received seemed to amuse her greatly and she gave the faint remnants of a smile as he took his seat at the Head Table, beside Hanrius Lament, the Minister of Magic, and other official dignitaries.

Minerva’s memory faded, but Scrimgeour’s reignited upon the close of the conference – when the Ministry officials had begun to mingle over a grand and glorious dinner party.

Minerva stood in the corner of the room. She was much younger – her ebony hair in loose curls over her midnight blue dress robes. She was laughing with Alastor, her laughter floating throughout the room – when Albus approached to speak to Alastor, and her eyes met his in a moment that seemed to cause time and motion to stand at a close.

“Miss McGonagall. It has been far too long” He gave her a genuine smile, bending to kiss her hand as she smiled in return.

“Professor Dumbledore! I am so pleased to see you here”

“My dear, you are no longer my student. I think we may drop the formalities, don’t you?” She laughed again, and Alastor gave a satisfied smile.

“Well, you two obviously have alot of catching up to do. I will see you both in a moment” And with that, Alastor Moody had left them entirely alone. Though a room full of people were before them, neither seemed hardly to notice as they spoke of the years that had passed between them.

“I always knew you would do well, Minerva” A smile played across her lips at hearing him speak her name for the first time and she was unable to hide her joy.

“It is just wonderful to see you again. There are so many things I have wanted to thank you for. You helped me pass my exams, Profess – ”

“What did we say about formalities?”

She laughed – a singsong laugh that filled the air.

“I’m sorry, Albus. I forgot myself for a moment” He had to laugh in return, finding her unabashed happiness quite contagious – the sound drawing the attentions of those around them.

“Perhaps we ought to go for a walk? There are so many things I would like to hear about your time since Hogwarts”

“That sounds lovely” Minerva smiled as he offered her his arm, and there was where Scrimgeour’s memory ended. A brief period of darkness followed until Minerva’s laughter filled the air once more – this time, in a memory of her own.

She was leaning against an outdoor staircase in the English countryside – the dinner party for the Ministry officials continuing in the Mansion beyond. The lake beyond flickered and rippled in the moonlight, and Albus leaned against the banister beside her – starring out at the endless night.

“Can I tell you something Albus? I always wanted to tell you this,” She admitted, the champagne she had already drunk having a slight affect on her confidence.

“Of course” He smiled as her eyes met his once more, and he was reminded of all the times throughout her final years at Hogwarts when she had seemed so very close – but so very far away.

“In my fourth year, I decided you were rather good looking” She laughed again now, the sound floating into the night air – a silver hue seeming to form around her as she did so that neither of them had noticed.

“Is that so?” He was grinning now, trying to remember the young Minerva McGonagall, the way her Scottish temper had always gotten the better of her, her aptitude for Transfiguration, her love of Quidditch, her laugh, her eyes...

“Yes” She admitted, now leaning haphazardly against the banister with a smile dancing across her face.

“It is wonderful to see you again, Minerva. I was always going to contact you... but then I thought perhaps... well, I was sure we’d meet again”

“You should have written,” She implored, looking horrified, “I would have loved to have heard from you. I’m sorry, I would have written, but there never seemed to be enough time. Auror training was so intense and – ”

“My dear, you do not need to explain yourself to me,” He smiled, and Minerva found herself quite lost in the way his eyes caught in the fading light, “Life has a funny way of escaping away from us”

She nodded in agreeance and a soft silence fell across them as she studied his face, determined to remember everything about it. The silver hue had only grown stronger around them, and he seemed so very close...

“I should have written” He murmured, mostly for his own assurances rather than hers – and silence descended across them once more as he found himself lost in her eyes, the filling of the material of her robe against his hand...

She was looking up at him now, her face but a breath away, and he found himself longing to reach for her hand, to wrap his arms around her, to kiss her, to take her in his arms and to never let her go. The sheer intensity between them left him almost breathless before their lips had even touched and - as his fingers grazed her own in a moment that spoke a thousand words - a voice filled the air.

“Minerva!”

Rufus’ Scrimgeour’s voice filled the air, and Minerva’s memory shattered to be replaced by his own.

Albus had taken his hands from hers almost instantly as though they burned, and had stepped away in the next second – looking away and out into the night once more. Minerva, however, looked flushed and confused – running her hand through her flowing hair as she caught sight of Rufus.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m here,” She explained with a heavy sigh, and Albus turned to meet Rufus, who surveyed the scene before him with a perplexed expression.

“The Minister is asking for you,” Scrimgeour replied, and Minerva nodded – her eyes searching for Albus, though he would not return her gaze.

Finally, he spoke, “It was lovely to see you again, Miss McGonagall. I trust I shall hear from you soon” And with that, Albus was gone – leaving her in the cool night air.

The memory dissolved, and Minerva found herself standing once more in the office of the Minister for Magic – struggling to regain her breath. Her hair was no longer ebony, she was not so young, her eyes were not so bright, nor was she laughing with a wishful innocence...

For a moment, neither she nor Scrimgeour spoke, the air thick with a remembrance of things passed.

She looked at him with a hopeless expression, retrieving their memories with her wand as quickly as she regained coherent thought.

“Thank you, Rufus. I appreciate it. I hope you have a good day”

And with that, she hurried out of the office – desperate to forget, desperate to remember.

To be continued

A/N: Reviews much appreciated - they really do shorten update time, spur on the plot, enlighten the author and bring joy to my day (I know - imagine doing all those good deeds in one day)

dianahawthorne - thank you!

beMMADfabulous - thank you - I was a little be honoured when you said you never read chapter fics

Kankulex - I'm glad I kept you happy

Tartanmin - I hope this update brought some answers

furandfeathers - no worries! Scrimgeour is an interesting character...

revolutionaryetude - I hope this answers your question.

[revolutionaryetude]

I think I reviewed the post with the last review. OOOPS! That's what I get for having this on Story Alert on FF.net and reading her THanks for answering my question though!

[furandfeathers]

the plot thickens! this story is fantastic, please update soon

[beMMADfabulous]

Yayness! You're so good to us about keeping us updated so soon, and I very much appreciate that. Keep it up! ;D

[tartanmin]

fantastic update, keep on going..

[kankulex]

Happy I am indeed... Your story really got me and your writing style is just brilliant!

[esoterica1693]

I've been reading this over on ff.net and I'm very intrigued! What's going on w/ Scrimgeour?

[maritelske]

A/N: Once again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed. It means the absolute world to hear that people are enjoying your story. So if you are still coming along for the ride, drop me a line to let me know what you think...

Also, sorry for the (slightly) shorter length of this chapter. It seemed so laden with events already that I wasn’t able to add anything else without filling you all with too much drama!

The Belief of Hope

Slumped against the couch, Minerva had made it back to the manor without fault. Her hand trembled as it grasped her wand, a distant memory of Albus’ hand across her own causing her heart to skip a beat.

To her, it seemed like a lifetime ago – and memories she had wanted to forget had suddenly resurfaced, flooding her mind in an endless wake.

She felt old.

Her eyes were heavy as she leant back against the couch.

However, her moment of reverie was broken by a knock on the door – and she stood, draping her outer robe across the couch as she peered out the lounge room window.

Looking remarkably unconcerned to see Alastor Moody standing on her doorstep, she opened the door slowly.

“Hello, Alastor. Tell me, what irritated me most about sharing a desk with you when we first worked at the ministry together?” Alastor gave a growling laugh as Minerva stood in the doorway, not willing to let him past until she deduced that he wasn’t an impostor.

After all, she noted with a wry smile, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“The fact that the owls would always drop my letters onto your head”

Minerva smiled, and stepped aside – allowing him to follow her inside. With a flick of her wand, a fire roared in the lounge room and the curtains floated shut as evening set across the manor.

“Wait, how do I know you’re not an impostor?”

“Oh, Alastor” Minerva sighed, sitting back down in the couch as he sat opposite her in the chair beside the fire, his magical eye glowing in the light of the flames.

“Constant vigilance, Minerva!”

“Very well then” She said with the air of someone entirely perplexed.

“What irritated me the most about sharing a desk with you?”

“The fact that my desk was always tidier than yours, even with the owls” She laughed softly as she threw her braid over her shoulder, adjusting her robes across her knees.

“Now we have that out of the way, how did you go with Scrimgeour?”

Minerva sighed heavily once more, producing a silver white strand from her wand as she spoke that was neither liquid nor gas, but an undeniable presence between them.

“Well done, then” Alastor growled in approval as he leant back against the chair, enjoying the brief moment of relaxation.

“Now all we have to worry about is Scrimgeour revealing the information himself” She sighed, her forehead knotted in her despair and confusion as she leant against the couch – and Alastor was suddenly reminded of a young auror, who had been so full of ideals, and hope, and endless promises...

“He won’t”

She looked up, her eyes searching.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Minerva, that memory happened so long ago. Had he wanted to reveal it to the world, he would have. You forget that he used to care for you in far more than the professional sense” His magical eye now swivelled at twice the speed, as though searching her for a reaction, for her true feelings.

“I have not forgotten” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, yet her forehead remained furrowed and she sighed heavily, an invisible weight against her shoulders, “I was so young then. I never knew...”

“We all make decisions in life that we regret. The only chance we have is to keep going” She gave a cynical smile, pressing her fingers together over her lap as she stared into the fire, the flame mirrored in her eyes, “Do you remember the day that Albus proposed to you?”

“September 14, 1949” Alastor gave a knowing smile, a rare sight across his lined and scarred face.

“You know, the morning before he proposed, Albus rang me. Now, I’m not so much of a romantic myself, but...”

Minerva raised an eyebrow, and she gave a sardonic smile, “Indeed?” Her laughter filled the lounge room, and Alastor’s smile grew, “And what did he say, when he rang?”

“He said that he had never been so scared in his entire life, and that he would rather face Grindelwald another thirty times before having to ask you to marry him”

She laughed again and the sound seemed to ease her tensions, to remove any doubts she had. Any concerns that had previously been her own seemed to pale in insignificance as they smiled over the stories of the past, gave hope for those of the future...

Eventually, the night wore on – Harry returned home from The Burrow, and Minerva had dinner to cook, so Alastor bid them both farewell and walked back down the manor path once more.

Yet it wasn’t until he reached the gate that a flash of light streaked across the horizon – and a silvery, bright doe formed before him. Severus Snape’s voice filled the darkened air.

“He has been injured. Returning to Hogwarts”

Alastor Moody didn’t need to think. Without even looking back, he apparated.

- - -

“Albus!” Hogwart’s Healer, Poppy Pomfrey, cried out in shock at seeing the headmaster, almost doubled over in withering agony as Professor Snape helped him into the hospital ward.

What Poppy saw shocked her.

Dumbledore’s eyes were gaunt – his skin a murky grey, his robes ripped and torn.

But most prominent of all was a deep wound that proceeded from his left shoulder to his navel, his blood red and abundant as he cried out in pain once more.

“I tried to heal him – I have tried” Snape explained hopelessly as he helped to lie Dumbledore on the bed.

“He is going to have to go to St. Mungo’s...” She whispered, her voice hoarse. Dumbledore cried out once more, and she looked at Snape in horror, “What happened to him?” She had already begun pulling potions out of her storages, waving her wand across Dumbledore as she did so in a desperate attempt to find something to stop the bleeding until she could get him to St. Mungo’s.

“Death Eaters” Snape muttered as Dumbledore groaned, now clutching at his side in his pain – an extraordinary agony that he had never felt before.

“Oh, god – we’ve got to get him to St Mungo’s”

As she spoke the words, Alastor Moody came flying into the room – hair dishevelled, his wooden leg banging against the floor as he did so.

“I got your message,” He told Snape briefly, before meeting Poppy’s eyes, “Can anything be done?”

“I am not sure,” She admitted, though she had finally managed to cease the bleeding for a brief window of time, “He has to be transferred to St Mungo’s now. I’m afraid there is no time to lose”

“But can’t you – ” Moody began, and she shook her head.

“No, I can not!” With tensions running high, and time running out, Moody knew better than to argue and watched as Poppy and Snape conjured a stretcher out of mid air, Dumbledore withering in pain on top of it.

To Poppy, it seemed like a lifetime before they made it to St. Mungo’s – the ministry healers descending upon them before she’d even had time to explain. Snape watched as brief words were exchanged and Dumbledore cried out once more as he was pushed out of view, beyond the doors and into the realm of the unknown.

With a heavy sigh, he turned to Moody.

“Should we send word to the order?”

“Not yet” Moody growled, shaking his head, “What happened?”

“He managed to disapparate just outside the school grounds. He sent me word from there. I know nothing beyond that it was a Death Eater attack” Snape explained, trying to recount the blurred events of the night.

There was another sigh, and Moody’s eyes swivelled around their surroundings, catching sight of the other occupants of the waiting room staring at them – though looking away as soon as he met their eyes.

“You should go back to school. I’ll send word to the others” Moody replied, and Snape gave a curt nod, just as Poppy came bustling back through the doors – looking thoroughly stressed.

“Oh, you’re both still here” She seemed surprised to see them both standing there, but quickly recovered, straightening her healer’s gown as she spoke, removing the dry blood with a flick of her wand, “They are seeing to him now” She offered by way of explanation as they walked hurriedly out of the hospital – avoiding the roving eyes of those who sat in the emergency room.

“Don’t tell anyone at the school” Moody ordered, his magic eye seeming to move more erratically than usual, unnerving Poppy, “I will alert the order”

There was a faint pop and he was gone.

To be continued (only a few more chapters to go!)

[kankulex]

ooooooooooooooooh! What an evil cliffhanger!
Hope Albus will get better soon... !

[furandfeathers]

WHAT!? No one tells Minerva!? I love this btw, pleeeease update soon!

[bethj4013]

Okay I just found this story and can't wait to read more I hope you update soon

[tntfanatic]

WOW!! I love it!! Can't wait for the next chapter!