Don't Need the Sunshine

[jayejaye]

*agrees with childminerva*.....the little bastard deserved so much more than a slap.

I loved the action scene, I was willing Albus to turn around as much as Minerva was...not that she couldn't have managed on her own..:-)

[MinnieQuill]

I'm very glad you enjoyed that! Action scenes are really hard for me to write as I always have an inclination to put too much description in thus losing it's suspense.
And yes, Harry is being a shit. As all people in mourning are inclined to be. Some may think him out of character, but I've been around people who have lost those close to them and to call their behaviour erratic is one hell of an understatement. Nevertheless, he deserved that slap!

[McGonagallsGirl]

*sigh* Having work can be a curse. How did I not see this update for so long? Curse you, Actors Equity!!!!

anyway, nice job. This went completely and totally the opposite direction that I thought it would when this story first started out, but that's what keeps it interesting.

[MinnieQuill]

---

I have seen peace. I have seen pain,
Resting on the shoulders of your name.
Do you see the truth through all their lies?
Do you see the world through troubled eyes?

---

Minerva sighed heavily as she thumbed through the day's post, separating her own mail from that of both Albus and Harry's. The boy had left the library earlier that evening without a word, though she had been certain he had granted her a soft 'goodnight' as he walked through the carved archway. That in itself was an improvement from the way he had been acting, and a small part of her hoped that he could, perhaps, come around. She winced as she cut her finger on one of her letters, and sucked away the resulting blood whilst she continued to sort through the rest of the mail.

Hagrid, The Ministry, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ginevra Weasley ...

Minerva faltered as she ran her finger lightly against the ornate script of the only Weasley girl. Harry's correspondence had so far lacked any word from any of the Weasley's – or Hermione Granger, for that matter, and although Potter had yet to speak again of his best friend's silence, he nevertheless reacted to it. Whether it was relief, annoyance or sadness, she couldn't tell, but his stoic expression faltered when he glanced at his letters, but did not find the one he was looking for.

She opened another of her letters as she pushed the two stacks away from her, and her brow furrowed as she read Hagrid's messy scrawl.

Minerva, the school governors have been to see me, asking all sorts of questions about where Dumbledore is. I didn't tell them anything, but I don't think they believed me. Just thought you should know. - Hagrid

The corners of Minerva's mouth tightened into a frown. The Ministry knew that Albus was taking a respite from duties; so what was so important that the governors had been called? And why hadn't they asked for her; the acting Headmistress? Her fingers thrummed against the counter as she replaced the letter onto the bench. At the last moment she faltered and pocketed the note instead.

Not for the first time she wished that Albus hadn't dug himself into the grave of depression. Cornelius Fudge's latest mistakes (or cock-ups in Remus' words) had seen him trying to gather all muggle-borns together in a secure location. Her teeth gritted together as she remembered her vehement protestation to his plan.

“You cannot be serious!”
“It makes sense, Minerva...”
“They'll be sitting ducks!”

She gave a derisive snort at the memory and stopped her staccato strumming. She lent her back against the kitchen bench as she folded her arms across her chest, as the weight of culpability increased until she felt she would succumb to its incubus. What a sad state of affairs the world was in when the fate of the wizarding world relied on the magical prowess of a sixteen-year-old boy.

But there you are wrong; Potter is no longer a boy.

She looked upward at the ceiling. It was true really; the veteran who was asleep in his bedroom had grown up so fast she had almost missed it. He was still inclined to adolescent theatrics (his recent behaviour only cemented that fact), but he had long ago resigned himself to his fate.

We make our own fate...

Her own voice echoed in her mind and she closed her eyes. She had spoken, or rather yelled, these words at Albus when he had confided the contents of the prophecy. He had looked so downcast, so tired at his pronouncement and had scarce flinched when she had shaken him roughly.

“You cannot be taking Sybil Trelawney's word seriously!”
“This was a real prophecy, Minerva.”
“The Department of Mysteries is full of unfulfilled prophecies!”
“Harry would go anyway! He'd fulfill it regardless! He wants revenge for his parents.”
“I think I know a bit more about revenge than you do, Albus.”

Her voice had been tart as she reared to her full and impressive height, and Albus had shrugged.

“I know, Minerva.”

She opened her eyes and stared about the kitchen. Untouched food was in front of her, and she banished it to the cupboard with a flick of her wand. Her mind told her that she needed to eat, but her body had protested vociferously when she had raised her fork up toward her mouth. She pushed herself from the bench, leaving the sorted mail on the bench near the cooker, and crossed the kitchen in three long strides. The hallway was dark, and she was grateful for her animagus form as her eyes adjusted almost instantaneously to the dim light.

Her castle was quiet as she padded up the staircase, and she immediately slowed her pace, not wanting to wake Potter should he have fallen asleep. The acoustics of the McGonagall Marrack ensured that the slightest noise would increase tenfold; something she and Wilf had had to overcome as they sneaked out at night. Now, decades later, that same knowledge of which floorboard creaked, and which doorway slammed of its own accord, came flooding back to her, and she continued upward silently.

She faltered at the landing, straining her ears to quickly assess that nothing was amiss. Finding nothing she continued onward and entered her bedroom. Remus had already left his mark, and now next to her silver hairbrush, was a wooden comb, and next to her perfume, a men's cologne. A smile crossed her lips. If anyone had told me...

Her blouse fell to the ground as she quickly undressed, and she assumed her nightgown. The black satin clung to her skin, the fabric blessedly cool, and she felt herself beginning to relax. The feeling intensified when she released her hair from its restrictive hairstyle, and black locks fell down her back. As the tiredness she had suppressed that day returned in full force, Minerva quickly ran through the routine of her nightly toilette, her bed becoming a magnet to her tired body.

She had barely turned off her bedside light and slipped beneath the covers, when a blood-curdling scream echoed through the room. The quilt fell to the floor as Minerva wrenched aside the thick material, and she darted upstairs to Potter's bedroom. The boy was sitting upright on his bed, though it was obvious that he was still asleep. His body was trembling as he rocked back-and-forth and she hastened to his side.

“Ron!” he shouted with a furious shake of his head. “No, don't.”

He drew his knees to his chest, curling up foetal, and his shoulders began to shake uncontrollably though she wasn't quite sure he was crying. Minerva felt bile rise in her throat as she recounted the laughter that had emerged from her own mouth when she had killed Kael's attackers. It was a maniacal laughter; chilling to the bone, as the madness of personal guilt clashed strongly with factual innocence.

She placed a firm hand on his shoulder, and the boy's eyes snapped open. His eyes, already red from crying, grew redder, and he reached out blindly toward her. His fingers snaked around her wrist, and he pulled her toward him. She was so surprised by his actions that she momentarily tensed, but the boy seemed not to notice as his fingers curled in the silk of her nightgown, gripping her like a life ring. Tentatively she wrapped her own arms around him, and the boy buried his face in her shoulder as his body wracked with grief.

“I'm sorry, lad,” Minerva whispered into his unruly hair.

The boy's breathing steadied as he calmed until she was sure he had fallen asleep in her arms. She gently disentangled herself from his stronghold, but he reached out again and gripped her shoulder as she rose to leave. His vivid eyes bored into hers, and she watched as the flush of embarrassment rose in his cheeks. He looked downward, shamefaced, and Minerva traced small circles on his upper arm.

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked softly.

After a brief moment of hesitation Potter nodded grudgingly at the quilt, and Minerva settled herself more comfortably on the edge of the bed. Hesitantly he closed his eyes, though he reached out blindly and gripped her hand. She watched him for an indeterminate amount of time, watching his brow knot and smooth in his dream ruminations. Slowly she reached out and brushed away a stray lock of hair from his face. Harry's skin was cadaverous in the moonlight, and she absently traced the line of his jaw as she withdrew her hand. In sleep his youth was painfully obvious, and the dried tears on his face only accentuated the veracious statement. She felt a tightness in her chest as his eyelids flickered in slumber, though these dreams were blessedly benign.

The Boy who Lived; The Chosen One...only sweet sixteen...

She lent against the bed rest and looked out the window. The full moon shone brightly, and Minerva inwardly kicked herself.

Full moon...Remus

In a way it was a blessing. Remus always locked himself in a room during the night of the full moon, despite the Wolfsbane potion he took, but for her to forget...

Potter whimpered in his sleep, and Minerva quickly placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. He stopped, and Minerva breathed a short sigh of relief. Giving Harry's hand a gentle squeeze, she settled herself more comfortably and pulled up the outer cover as the faint breeze through the open wind chilled her skin.

His needs are greater than Remus'...

[MinnieQuill]

Chapter 9 (Continued)

She had not intended to stay more than a couple of hours, so it was no small amount of confusion that Minerva awoke in Harry's bedroom. The boy in question lay beside her, his arm outstretched with his fingers still entwined within hers. Confusion gave way to mortification as Minerva realised how the present situation would look to an outsider. Harry Potter, the would-be saviour of the wizarding world, curled in bed next to his Transfigurations Professor.

“Good Lord,” she groaned into the feather-filled pillow.

Inappropriateness didn't even begin to describe the present setting, and her sense of both professionalism and morality clashed together violently. Her eyes flicked to Harry who was still asleep, his forehead smooth with the trace of a smile playing on his lips.

He had a good nights sleep; surely you can't begrudge him that.

The magisterial vindications she was bestowing on her own person died at this pronouncement, though she remained adamant in her belief that such a situation could not reoccur. It was preposterous to even hold such a notion; besides, if she were careful Potter need not know and she could slip out quietly, undetected.

She gently disengaged her fingers from those of her young charge. The boy shifted in his sleep, and Minerva froze. After several, remarkably prologued moments, his body relaxed and Minerva swung her legs over the side of the bed. The mattress creaked and again she stilled, willing Potter not to wake and hang her in the gallows of her own humiliation. The boy merely rolled onto his side, and she rose to her feet and exited the room quickly.

Her bedroom was cold as she entered, and she shivered violently. She retrieved her wand from the bedside table, and pointed it at the fire.

“Incendio.”

Flames shot upward, but Minerva paid them no heed as she walked past. The tiles of the bathroom were cool on her feet and she stepped inside the steaming jet of water hurriedly. Each droplet of scalding liquid sent a pinprick of pain through her skin, and she reached out blindly and adjusted the water to a more bearable temperature. Her fingertips connected with a bar of soap, and she trailed the soap over her body languidly.

Steam clouded the glass and she quickly opened the door and stepped outside. The mirror was fogged, and she could only see her silhouette in the glass. Her body was lean and limber, and her fingers trailed over her stomach, noting with no small degree of pride, that her waistline was as slim as it had ever been. Slowly the moisture dissipated, and her facial features grew stronger until she was looked back at herself. Her recent undernourishment was evident in the protrusion of her cheekbones, but otherwise she appeared reasonably well and healthy.

She nodded curtly at herself as she wrapped a towel around her body and entered her bed chambers. The towel fell in a puddle at her feet as she assumed her chosen muggle attire of black jeans and blouse. A worn leather jacket that had once been her father's completed her apparel, and she stepped forward and drew aside the curtains covering the windows with a faint swoosh.

The sky outside was grey, and she could see thunder clouds rolling toward her estate, their bottoms almost black with the weight of rain within. She relaxed slightly as she watched the oncoming storm, and barely flinched when the first bolt of lightning struck, illuminating the grounds an eerie white, before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

As a child she and Wilf had waited for summer storms, and spent hours searching the skies for thunder clouds. Now, fifty or so years later, the same thrill of exhilaration coursed through her veins, and she quickly pulled on a pair of boots and turned on her heel in a fluid motion, discarding her jacket as she padded lightly down the hallway and through the kitchen door.

Rain had begun to lash down, and she leant her face upward, relishing the way every droplet stung against her skin. Unbidden a smile spread across her face and she stood still for several moments, simply savouring the sensation. Slowly she looked forward at the lake, and watched entranced as ripples spread outward, combining until the usually glassy water became rough and waves began to pound against the shore.

“Mind the water…”

Her mother’s chiding voice echoed in her mind, and as she had decades before, she ignored it. She quickly muttered a transfiguration charm, and her blouse and jeans were transformed into a modest black bathing costume. The chill rain thrashed against her skin, but she pressed forward and waded easily through the water. Despite her animagus form, Minerva had always adored water, and she cut through the growing waves like a knife, relishing the way the water passed over her skin, chilling her to the bone but sending a thrill of adrenalin through her blood.

She dove down into the still water beneath the waves, and twisted her body like a child. She only rose to the surface when the need for oxygen grew too much, and burst through the top, breathing in deep gulps of air. Her hair splayed out behind her, as slick as a seal’s, and she flicked it over her shoulder as she dived down again. The ivory of her skin contrasted sharply with the blackness of the water and she kicked down further until she could touch the bottom with her fingertips. Her hands traced the outline of stones, and her fingers wrapped around reeds though she was careful not to disturb the Grindylows.

Again, the need for air sent her to the surface, and she burst through the water easily. A figure darting behind a stone caught her attention, and her grey eyes narrowed. She gave no indication that she sensed anything amiss, but she swam quickly to shore. As she rose from the water, she withdrew her wand from where she had tucked it under her bathing. Her breathing had increased and her lips were pressed tightly together as she strained her ears.

The influence of her animagus form had sensitised her hearing, and she could hear the unmistakable sound of hurried breathing from behind a large rock to her left. Her muscles tensed but still she gave no outward appearance of alarm as she calmly re-transfigured her bathing suit back to its former guise.

She crouched down in the pretense of typing her shoelace but as she rose to her feet, she flicked her wand, turning the rock wall into a pile of rubble. Her mouth tightened into a frown as she recognised not a Death Eater, but the amused countenance of her charge who brushed dust of his shoulders carelessly. Minerva raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question, and he shrugged nonchalantly.

“I saw you slip out, and thought I’d follow,” he said with feigned boredom dripping from every syllable.

“You were spying on me?” Minerva said incredulously.

Potter shrugged again, though the gesture was now mixed with unease as colour flooded to her cheeks. Whilst she did not regret her swimming escapee, her sense of propriety made it near impossible not to cringe at the state, or rather lack of dress, he had seen her in. The corners of his mouth tilted in amusement as he watched her blush increase until she was sure her cheeks were scarlet.

Minerva frowned. “Come back inside and out of the rain,” she said coldly.

She turned sharply and walked across the ground, knowing that Harry would follow. She entered the kitchen and quickly cast a warming charm as she rummaged about the cupboards. Her recent exertion had left her with an appetite she wanted to assuage, and she allowed herself a smile as her fingers traced the outline of a tray of eggs. She could hear Potter's trudging footsteps behind her and a chair creak as it was pulled outward.

“Are you hungry?” Minerva asked, not turning around as she pulled a fry pan out from another cupboard.

Harry gave a grunt which Minerva took to mean assent, and the two remained silent until she pushed the omelet before him along with a cup of sweetened coffee. She said nothing as she sat down opposite him, though she did not look away and watched as he peered down at the table, tracing the knife scars with the hand not holding the fork. Finally, after a few minutes of prologued silence that made her want to scream, the boy spoke.

“I should apologise, shouldn’t I?”

Minerva faltered, a forkful of omelet partway to her mouth, as Harry raised his head and looked her directly in the eye. His gaze was penetrating, but she did not look away as she shrugged.

“What do you think?” she asked, placing her fork down on the table and looking at him intently.

“I…” His voice trailed off and he looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. “I was so angry,” he said finally. “Finding out that you…” Pink rose in his cheeks, and he quickly looked down again. “Finding out that you and him were…had… It felt like another betrayal,” he finished.

Minerva nodded as the boy raised his head upward. “I haven’t behaved admirably either,” she conceded.

The corners of Potter’s mouth twitched slightly as he held his hand out. “Truce?”

Minerva smiled as their fingers intertwined and they shook firmly. “Truce,” she echoed.

She released his hand quickly and returned her attention to the food before her. It was sometime before either of them spoke.

“Thank you.”

Minerva arched an inquiring eyebrow as she sipped her own brew (minus the sugar.) “Whatever for?”

Harry fingered the edge of the tartan table cloth. “For last night. You needn't have stayed the whole night.”

Minerva hid the flare that rose in her cheeks by rising and procuring herself more coffee from the urn. “You're welcome Potter; though I am sure you'll understand that it can't happen again.”

She turned and leaned against the bench, staring fixedly at the black brew swirling in the cup. Potter coughed, and she looked upward to find that he too was looking intently before him.

“Of course, Professor,” he said finally. Minerva bit the inside of her cheek. His voice had taken on that tone, or rather lack of tone, and she inwardly chided herself.

“Though, should you ever need to talk...” she ventured quietly, holding the cup tightly between her hands.

Harry glanced upward, and she breathed a short sigh of relief when a grateful smile passed over his face. The boy said nothing however, and merely returned to his eggs. Minerva continued to sip her drink, and caffeine flooded through her veins, keeping her tiredness at bay. She watched the boy over her cup; he looked far better than he had since his arrival; more rested.

“Where's Lup – Professor Lupin?” Harry asked, pushing his finished plate to one side.

Minerva looked briefly into her coffee before answering. “It was full moon last night,” she said softly.

Potter gave a soft 'ah' of understanding as he rose and placed their plates in the sink. He turned the tap on and began to wash away the remnants of breakfast. Minerva watched as he scrubbed the pan in the soapy water, pushing the sleeves of his shirt upward to keep them dry. Potter had never been bulky, and she suspected that he never would be, but age had made him lean versus 'skinny'. Veins ran across his forearms which boasted a musculature many men spent hours procuring, and she knew that the rest of his body was similar. His shoulders had broadened somewhat along with his recent growth spurt and he no longer looked fragile. He was still shorter than her by a couple of inches, but she was almost unnaturally tall for a woman, so that was no shortcoming.

The sound of china chinking broke her from her observations, and she returned her attention to Harry who was looking at her with one eyebrow raised.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, suppressing the blood that threatened to flood to her cheeks. “I was miles away.”

Potter nodded with a small smile, but said nothing as he reached for a tea towel and began drying the plates. Minerva quickly crossed to his side, and placed the items back in their rightful positions on the shelves.

“Your post is over there,” Minerva said once all kitchenware had been put away, pointing at the small stack of letters next to the oven.

Her young charges face lit up, and he hurried across the room and thumbed through his mail. Minerva watched as he discarded several letters and placed them back on the bench, and his eyes brightened as he read Ginevra Weasley's feminine script.

She cleared her throat softly. “I'll leave you to it, then.” Without waiting for him to respond she exited the kitchen, and retreated to the library. The desk overlooking the window was piled with Potter's homework, and she recognized her own handwriting on one of the pieces of parchment.

Identify and explain the differences between self-transfiguration and animagus transformations.

The boy had started the essay, but seemed to have faltered in his various explanations. Minerva allowed herself a smile as she picked up a quill and wrote several notes at the bottom of the page. Satisfied that Harry would receive a minimum of 'Exceeding Expectations' should he follow the various headings and references, she replaced the quill on the desk. 'Pride and Prejudice' still rested on the coffee table, and she crossed the room and tucked it beneath her arm. She walked quickly up the staircase, and made her way to her chambers, throwing herself onto the small sofa. Her legs curled beneath her, and she opened the novel and was immediately enthralled in the histrionic tale.

“There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

---

Approximately two hours later found Minerva closing the book with a small smile, having finally read to the end. She removed her glasses, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. The caffeine had long since left her system, and she again felt the waves of exhaustion nip at her heels. She rose to her feet immediately and headed downstairs.

Harry looked over his shoulder from his homework as she entered the library.

“Have you read your letters yet?” she asked by way of announcing herself.

Harry shrugged his shoulders in what she took to be affirmation.

“Anything of note?” she said, perching on the edge of his desk.

“Neville's grandmother is talking to Professor Sprout about a possible apprenticeship.”

Minerva smiled, noting that he steadfastly avoided mentioning Ginny Weasley's letter. Not that she was overly surprised. She suspected that the red-haired girl's lips had branded and bewitched the boy long ago.

“Well that's wonderful; I'm sure Pomona will be delighted,” Minerva said, injecting a semblance of enthusiasm into her voice. “I've lost count of how many times she has raved about the boy in the Staff room.”

The corners of Potter's mouth tilted upward in amusement.

“How's your homework going?” Minerva asked, changing the subject as she peered at the parchment the boy had been writing on, her eyes skimming down the page.

A snort escaped from her before she could stop it. Harry had apparently forsaken his Transfiguration homework in favour of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now there's an idiot if I've ever met one, Minerva thought as she read the new DADA Professor's handwriting. Another Ministry buffoon. “Is 'counter-jinx' a suitable title, or should they be recognized as jinxes in their own right? Debate and Explain using Ministry approved texts.” she read aloud, her lips pursing into a scowl.

She glanced at Harry, who was watching her with a mixture of unease and amusement. “Please tell me this isn't what you've been doing for the past year?”

Potter nodded, and Minerva rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the parchment. “Should animagus transformations be more stringently controlled, giving that the ability to gather information and infiltrate areas is easier in animal form? Debate and Explain using Ministry approved texts.”

Minerva closed her eyes briefly, cursing the interference from the Ministry.

“I thought you'd like that one,” Harry said with a small smile as she re-opened her eyes and placed the parchment back on the desk with a grimace.

“Mmmm,” Minerva said absently, reaching for one of the 'Ministry approved texts' and opening it. Her lips thinned as she read the first page, and she threw the book back down distastefully.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever read,” she scoffed, pushing herself from the desk. “Come with me, Potter,” she continued. “If you're going to use Defense Against the Dark Arts, you need to be trained properly. I promised I'd teach you, so let's go.”

Potter leaped to his feet eagerly, and followed behind as she marched through the hallway, and through the kitchen onto the grounds. She continued to a small close surrounded by a natural barrier of rocks, as well as thick heather and numerous birches. Harry stopped next to her and looked at her quizzically.

“Hex the tree, Potter,” she said firmly, moving aside so he was in front of her.

Harry's eyebrows raised. “With what?”

“Anything that comes to mind.”

Giving her another puzzled glance, Harry took his wand from his pocket. With a final look at her, he pointed it at the smallest birch. “Reducto!”

There was a blinding flash of light, and Minerva blinked rapidly to restore her vision. “Not bad,” she said, eying the remains of the birch.

She flicked her wand, and restored the tree to its former condition. “However, a much more powerful curse is 'Fòrsaì làidre', also know as the 'Cataclyso' hex. Have you heard of it?” Potter shook his head. “Well, repeat it after me. Fòrsaì làidre.”

“Fòrsaì làidre.”

“Exactly,” Minerva said approvingly. “Let's see it then.”

She stepped back, as Potter pointed his wand at the birch once more. “Fòrsaì làidre.”

Like the previous day, a sheet of red light traveled over the grounds, and not one, but five birch trees were blown into smithereens.

“Excellent,” Minerva praised, as the grass before them was littered with shards of wood. “Now, to practice...”

She looked around the grounds, and a small smile crossed her face. “Perfect.”

[MinnieQuill]

Chapter 9 (Continued)

---

The natural wall went with them to a more open area, and Minerva waved her wand causing various obstacles to rise from the earth.

“Are you ready, Harry?” she called from where she rested against the newly restored birch.

The boy rose from where he was crouched behind the wall, and waved his arm.

Minerva flicked her wand. “Partis of lux lucis.”

A shimmering scarlet orb rose into the air, and hovered at eye level. Minerva folded her arms across her chest, and watched as the orb rose a good fifteen feet in the air, before bursting into shards that solidified into small icicles that would dissipate if they hit human flesh. The spell was not widely known, and used mainly by Aurors who needed to hone their skills. The fragments of ice hung, utterly still for a brief moment, before flying toward Potter who had stood and was looking at the them in wonder. He ducked quickly behind the wall, and several shards slammed against the stone, breaking into pieces. Potter did nothing as the rest of the pieces flew toward him, rolling out of the way at the last minute causing more to break against the stone. He leaped to his feet again as the shards spun in mid-air, ready to strike.

Minerva felt a curious mixture of astonishment and pride lurch in her chest. The boy fought like no one else she knew. Whilst most people, herself included, changed their position frequently to throw off their attackers, Potter remained stationary until the situation to strike presented itself. He was not as agile as she, who moved like her animagus form, leaping easily over obstacles, and throwing her body through the air; rather he moved in a serpentine manner, undulating across the grounds, only surfacing for long enough to pounce.

All too soon she saw a brief flash of red, and the remaining ice fell to the ground. Potter paused and looked at her for a critique.

“Very good,” she praised as he walked toward her. “Very good indeed.”

“Really?” the boy said, a small smile crossing over his features.

Minerva nodded. “And truly. You move somewhat...differently than anyone I know, but it's extremely effective so don't change it simply to please me.”

A true, broad smile lit up Potter's face, the first she had seen in weeks, and Minerva looked away, waving her wand to clear the debris. The grounds were instantly pristine once more, and she turned, gesturing for the boy to follow her back to the house. He obeyed instantly, and they walked in a companionable silence back to the dining table.

“I'd still like to learn to move as you do,” Potter said suddenly as they by-passed the kitchen and entered the library.

Minerva gave him a sidelong glance. “Harry, I'm yet to find another person who moves like I do. Dueling is about being comfortable, not about emulating someone else.”

Potter nodded thoughtfully and watched as she settled herself down comfortably, and summoned various letters from the coffee table.

“But that cartwheel thing...” he said softly.

Minerva looked over-top the sheaf of parchment and raised a supercilious eyebrow. “I've picked up a few feline traits over the years,” she explained. “The species' strength and agility namely. It's a skill not many have; though I must admit it has come in handy.”

She returned her attention to her letters, deeming the conversation to be over. Potter began his homework, though she noted with some degree of pride, that he slipped his DADA homework beneath the precarious pile, and reached for his Transfiguration essay. He smiled when he saw her added notes, but said nothing as he reached for a quill and began to write. Minerva's brow furrowed, and she bit the inside of her cheek in annoyance as she read Cornelius Fudge's loopy handwriting.

Minerva, we are going through with the original plan to house Muggle-borns together. I know you have concerns, but the Ministry is of the opinion that they will be safer.
Sincerely
Cornelius Fudge – Minister for Magic

Minerva threw the parchment away from her distastefully and rose to her feet.

“What's wrong?” Potter asked, looking at her concernedly.

“Nothing yet,” Minerva answered softly.

She didn't elaborate as she spun on her heel and exited the library quickly. Fudge may not listen to her, but he did listen to the man in the bedroom above.

Albus, for the muggle-borns sake at least, please find the strength to oppose Fudge. He won't listen to me...

---

Author's note: - Well, here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! If so, please review and tell me. I can't update as quickly as usual, and will only continue if I get reviews (I need to know people are reading.) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! (The chapter title is from 'Cry' by James Blunt; there is also an excerpt from Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejduice. Oh, and I own nothing...) Cheers. Minniequill.

[Jessabelle]

I just read the whole fic! This story is very captivating! Your use of dialogue is pretty straightforward and simple, but it is very effective! The characters and their relationships are portrayed differently then I am used to, but I am enjoying this story immensely. Please do continue to post and update. I will be away for about a week, starting this Thursday, and I will not be able to R&R, but until then, and after I return home, I will!
This is excellent work!
- Jess
P.S. Just out of curiosity, will this become ADMM?

[MinnieQuill]

I've found that long, extended dialogue takes from the story. Simple is good!
As for the story becoming ADMM... asking me now, I'd say no. But I also said that 'Ruins' wouldn't be romantic. So, I'll just see where the muse takes me. I have the next few chapters planned though. mwahaha...let's see if I've lost my ability to make people cry *cackles*
I'm kidding...I'm kidding. lol

[McGonagallsGirl]

Hells yeah. I love this fic. Always have. Always will.

Seriously. If this were how you ended it:

"But Minerva decided to have tea with the Queen instead."

I'd say:

"Bravo. Absolutely perfect ending. Well done."

Why?

Because I love this fic. Always have. Always will.

P.S.
I think you really should end it that way. How thrilling.

[MinnieQuill]

I'll think about it *coughs*
No, I have the ending all planned! I had an epiphany last night (the isomnia is kicking in again so now my desk is full of scrawled chapter plans) and it's done and dusted! It'll be a fair while until I get there however, and I need to figure out some stuff, but it's done. Woohoo!
However I think this fic will be one of my longest once it's all done. I can't seem to write small chapters for it any more.

[childminerva]

Very good! Maybe Harry will stop being such a prick now that Minerva is giving him lessons

[McGonagallsGirl]

but...b-but....

*tears in eyes*

but I want Minerva to have tea with the Queen...

*quivering lip*

[MinnieQuill]

Awww...now you made me feel bad.
This stories on a bit of a hiatus at the moment (by my standards anyway) - I'm focussing on a newbie which is absolutely insane! It's irritating as hell actually - I start fics, and then I have no inspiration to continue. But this one will be! The end is in sight! (a long way away, but still there)

[McGonagallsGirl]

Oh thank God. don't scare me like that.

[bethj4013]

Great story

[MinnieQuill]

This isn't an update (sorry about that - but I have the whole next chapter outlined, so it's all good), but if for some obscure reason you're particularly interested int this story, my friend and I have made a blog dedicated especially to our stories which answers any questions from reviewers and explains chapter titles, and what's going to happen, where the story will end up, explains the characters actions etc.
The address is dubhcleite-minniequill.blogspot.com/ should anyone be interested. Remember, we will answer any and all questions (within reason)

[McGonagallsGirl]

got my hopes up

[MinnieQuill]

Darling Minniequill? *raises eyebrow*
Well the next chapter is planned, its just a matter of writing it. I've got about 5 reports due within this wekk though so it won't be anytime soon. And I'm beta-ing a few things that people have sent me so...yeah.

[McGonagallsGirl]

*tapping foot impatiently*

[MinnieQuill]

Seeing as exams are in precisely 17 days, fanfiction has taken a back seat so you'll be tapping for a while longer. And the three reports and two case studies. And then the practical examination...

[McGonagallsGirl]

Oh. We're half way there. Oh. Living on a prayer. Take my hand, we'll make it I swear. Oh. Living on a prayer.

(my anthem when I took exams)

[MinnieQuill]

That's about it. Anyway, my exams finish on the 20th of June, and that is the day I unveil my newest monstrosity of a fic called 'Miserichorde'. After that, I am aiming to finish four of my WIP's ('Don't Need the Sunshine', 'Here Where I Stand at the Turning of the Years', 'An Unusual Alliance and 'Leap Before You Look.' All my others I'm not really fussed on.
AND, I have another which I'm pulling out from the recesses of my penetralia entitled 'Despite the Falling Snow' which is going to be ADMM. Woohoo! And actually stay ADMM this time?

[McGonagallsGirl]

I'm not a nit picker, I don't pick nits... but that would be awesome. To actually stay ADMM.

[MinnieQuill]

All right, changed my mind. I can't stop fanfiction. I went about a week. This story is still on hold though. ;(