Resolving a Misunderstanding (complete)

[FireBird]

Well, now that I have the permission, anyone who wants to show his/her support for Gertie to the world can use the sigs (as long as it is accompanied by a link to this story).
Gertie fans, raise your voices!

*dead silence*
*everybody stares*
Hehehe...

[Miss Q]

This is just what the doctor ordered! Your wonderful story is getting better and better! I forgott my sore throat and spinning head (fever) for a few minutes!

Thank you for sharing this lovely story!!
M

[bethj4013]

Great Story I just found it and spent the last week reading it as I had time. I wanted to wait until I finished what is written so far to comment. I too am curious about Gertie's reasons for bringing Minerva to Cornwall and look forward to finding out.

[MMADfan]

bethj4013 said:

Great Story I just found it and spent the last week reading it as I had time. I wanted to wait until I finished what is written so far to comment. I too am curious about Gertie's reasons for bringing Minerva to Cornwall and look forward to finding out.

Thanks! I am glad you are enjoying it!

Just FYI for anyone looking for an update to RaM, I hope to have one written tomorrow or Thursday. RL and my other fic have taken up my time, but I hope to get some written tomorrow. I'm looking forward to getting back to the Gamp Estate!

BTW, "An Act of Love," my other fic over at The Petulant Poetess is now supposedly complete but for the epilogue. I think there will actually be one more chapter plus the epilogue now, but the bulk of the story is up. If you are of-age (it is rated NC-17/MA for the lemons and other mature content), you can read it at www.thepetulantpoetess.com. The direct link to the story is: www.thepetulantpoetess.com/viewstory.php?sid=5190
You need to register at the site to read the M and MA rated stories, but not to read the ones rated below that (the equivalent of the G and PG stories). It is heavily ADMM, although it also focuses on Severus Snape. Here's the summary from the first chapter: Severus Snape is hit by a stray spell, which has unanticipated and undesirable consequences. When he begins to feel some side-effects from the spell, Severus seeks the help of a colleague.

[muriel2532]

I really liked "An Act of Love" and I am looking forward to reading another chapter and the epilogue sometime soon!

[MMADfan]

Note: Yes, it's finally an UPDATE! Thank you to everyone who has been leaving such nice responses to the story. I am very glad you are enjoying it. So, no more blather, on with the story!

LVIII: A Quiet Afternoon at the Gamp Estate

Thank goodness for small favours, Minerva thought as she rose from lunch and took Quin’s elbow. She had again been seated at the far end of the table well away from Valerianna. She hadn’t even had to look at her during this meal, as they were both seated on the same side of the very long table. As more guests arrived, the table lengthened to accommodate them all. Again, no children were present, unless one included Quin.

Minerva had noticed that most couples had been seated either across from one another or even apart from one another entirely. She assumed this was to encourage “mingling,” but she had been seated beside Quin again. Minerva wondered whether that was Gertie’s doing or Madam Gamp’s. She doubted very much that it was sheer happenstance that they had been seated beside one another for the last three formal meals. Of course, the others were established couples, and she and Quin had only just met. The engaged couple had arrived that morning and were seated on either side of Madam Gamp. Gropius was being entertained by an older couple who had been in the parlour that morning, and Flint and Valerianna were seated across from one another just next to them. Minerva was pleased to be as far from them as possible, but fortunately not so near Orion and Walburga, the celebrated couple, as to have to speak with them, either. She was slightly disappointed to see that Ella was seated down at the end of the table near Gropius. She would have enjoyed speaking with Quin’s mother-in-law again. Instead, Minerva slogged her way through some rather dull conversation with a Rosier across from her, Druella’s older brother whom she knew from school, and with one of the prematurely-aged Blacks on her other side, and poked Quin every now and then so that he would rescue her from some particularly annoying conversation. When Rosier started going on about what a wonderful match Orion and Walburga made, Minerva had all she could do to maintain her attitude of cool detachment.

They were both dreadful, Walburga even more insufferable than Orion, and Minerva couldn’t help but wonder what problems their children would suffer from as a result of being born from that union. Minerva cringed as Walburga’s strident tones and cackling laugh cut through the murmured voices around her. She seemed happy enough, however, and Orion, who spoke little, seemed neither happy nor unhappy. Minerva thought he looked bored, actually. She doubted that this was a love match. Probably, as with Pollux and Irma, their marriage had been arranged very early in their lives.

Gertrude’s Aunt Hesper, Orion’s grandmother, sat next to Francis Flint and spent the evening turned slightly away from him, speaking to the Blacks on her other side. She also seemed to drink rather copious amounts of wine. Hesper had been one of the witches talking with Columbine and Gropius in the parlour that morning. Minerva detected only a slight family resemblance between Hesper and Gropius, but she thought that Gertrude actually looked more like her aunt than she did her father, a bent-over wisp of a man who looked as though a strong breeze could carry him away. Hesper, in contrast, was slim but tall, with heavy bones, flat chest, broad shoulders, prominent cheek bones, and piercing grey eyes that maintained their sharpness despite the amount of wine she seemed to imbibe. Gertrude, fortunately, had inherited slightly more rounded features and more of a bosom from her mother’s side of the family, but it was clear that she had come by her height and her sturdiness honestly.

Minerva thought that, aside from Gropius, the Gamps, whether a Gamp by blood or by marriage, were the healthiest looking pure-bloods in the room. The Blacks were definitely the most frail-looking, with the Yaxleys and Rosiers coming in somewhere in the middle. Quin, of course, was the very picture of both vitality and virility. Unfortunately, Minerva had to admit that her least favourite person in the room also looked fairly vigorous. Valerianna Yaxley née Crouch was definitely a very healthy witch in her sixties. Minerva could tell that, despite her plain looks, beneath her make-up charms, the witch still had a rosy glow to her cheek that required no Glamour or make-up charm to create. She also moved quickly and energetically, Minerva had noticed, and there was no doubt that the witch was sharp – nasty, but sharp.

“Would you like to . . . mingle, or would you prefer a walk – or some time in the library?” Quin asked in her ear as they left the dining room.

“Library?” Minerva hadn’t seen a library.

His lips twitched. “A girl after me own heart, I see,” Quin said in response to her obvious interest. “It is even on the same floor as your bedroom, but in the other wing. Quite convenient.”

“Convenient for what?” Minerva asked with faux frostiness.

“Why, nighttime reading when you can’t sleep, of course!” He grinned as he led her up the stairs to the Gamp library. “I think you will enjoy this – Gertie’s parents may not be academically inclined, but her grandfather was quite a famed Arithmancer in his day. He also was almost as talented as your father when it came to Ancient Runes and linguistics in general.”

“You know my father?” Minerva asked, puzzled.

“Not personally, obviously, or to be sure, I would have asked for an introduction to la grande dame de la Metamorphosis a long time ago,” he said with a wink. “I am familiar with his books, however. He has a fluid and unconventional mind. I possess around eighteen of his books, although I confess I have not read all of them – most of them, though!” he said in response to Minerva’s look. “I am not one to buy books simply to decorate me shelves. It is simply a matter of time – havin’ enough of it.”

The two spent a congenial afternoon in the library; when the afternoon sun became too warm, Quin drew the draperies closed and floated small, cool balls of light overhead so that they could read with ease. Minerva thought to ask him about the “personal charm” that Gertie had spoken of, but became so engrossed in her book that any thought of asking him anything flew from her mind.

At about three o’clock, a loud thunking came from one of the windows. Quin got up and drew back a curtain, then opened the window to let in an owl, which immediately flew over and landed on the back of Minerva’s chair.

Minerva reached up to take the letter from the bird, and it ruffled its feathers and shifted as she did so. “I’m sorry, poor thing. I haven’t any treats for you today.”

“I believe there are some in the Gamp owlery, if I can remember where . . . .” Quin looked off into the distance for a moment.

“I don’t particularly want to bring the bird down there – perhaps she will find her way there on her own.”

“He, not she,” said Quin, “and there’s no need to go down there. Just draw up a few.” He reached out toward the owl, closed his fist, and when he opened it, there were several owl treats in his palm.

“Muggle ‘magic tricks.’” Minerva snorted, rolling her eyes. “Really, Quin. I am not that gullible.”

“Ah, well. I must remember the lady isn’t gullible, Mr Owl,” he said, addressing the bird that was now perched on his outstretched arm. He grinned at her. “I can’t do it with large things, o’ course, but with bits o’ treats like these, or with water, which flows, if I know where it is, and if I am familiar enough with the source, I can pull it to where I want it. Rather like what you do when you Apparate, but the other way around . . . and, o’ course, you aren’t doin’ the moving.”

Minerva considered that for a moment, and its implications, if true. “You could be quite the thief, then. There are a great many valuable things, particularly in the Muggle world, that are very small. . . . That isn’t how you’ve made your money, is it?” asked Minerva bluntly, remembering her conversation with Gertie that morning about Flint’s suspicions.

“Have you been talkin’ with Frankie Flint, then? And here I was thinkin’ you had better taste than that.”

“No, I haven’t been, and I don’t suppose it’s any of my business, except in a general sort of way, but I would like to know.”

Quin sighed and looked at her appraisingly before bringing the owl to the window and letting it fly away. He watched it fade into the distance before closing the window and drawing the curtain again.

He came back and stood in front of her. “So, ’tis either cheap Muggle tricks I am doin’, or ’tis proof o’ thievery.”

“I didn’t mean to accuse you – ”

“No? Just as you didn’t accuse me of bein’ a negligent father allowin’ his son to be destroyin’ his magical core? Burnin’ his self out, I believe you said.”

“I didn’t mean – ”

“’Tisn’t entirely your fault,” Quin said with a sigh. “’Tis also the world you come from. And ’tis me fault as well, for bein’ so free with you.” He sat. “Better to have let you believe I was just pullin’em from me pocket, or whatever you would assume o’ any other wizard who gave a bird treats. I ought to know better by now.”

Minerva sat, her letter unlooked at. She watched Quin pick up his book and resume reading.

“I just wanted to know, Quin, because I’d like us to be friends.”

Quin didn’t look up from the oversized book he was reading. “An’ you want to be sure ’tis no thief you have for a friend.”

“Not exactly. I’m . . . curious. I always have been.”

He put his book in his lap and gazed at Minerva. “No, I do not steal, neither to make me livin’ nor to make me livelihood easier, not from Muggles and not from Wizards.” He looked at her for a moment more, then picked up his book again.

“I didn’t mean it to sound as it came out, Quin. Honestly,” Minerva said.

“I know that I am not always the model of decorum and good manners, particularly around this lot, but I do not believe that askin’ someone if he makes his livin’ by stealin’ from Muggles is exactly the height of courtesy, Professor McGonagall. At least where I am from. But then, I didn’t have the advantages of bein’ raised on this blessed isle, an’ bein’ as I’m unschooled, I probably have missed a lesson or two in polite conversation,” he said from behind his book.

“All right, be that way. I may not have phrased it felicitously, and maybe I was even wrong to think such a thing, but it was an honest question, Quin. More honest than most you’d receive under this house. I am . . . I am sorry. I did not intend to offend you, and you do have every right to be offended. I would have been.” Minerva waited, hoping that Quin was receptive to her apology. Aside from the fact that she had hoped she had found a new friend, the next couple of days would be very long, indeed, if she no longer had his company.

“Well,” said Quin, putting his book aside on the table next to him, “perhaps that wasn’t the prettiest apology I’ve ever heard, but ’twas sincere, I’d like to believe, anyway. . . . An’ what are a few infelicitous words between friends, eh?” He quirked a grin and gave a half-shrug. “I’m sure I’ve said worse t’ me friends. And forgiven worse from’em.”

Minerva let out a relieved sigh. She hadn’t realised until that moment how much she had liked Quin. She really did feel as though she’d known him forever, in a way, although he continually startled her.

“All right, and can I ask that you be understanding in the future when you startle me like that? I’m bound to be . . . offensively honest again, I’m sure,” she said with a smile.

“Mmm. You remind me of Gertie. Prettier, of course, and more fun.”

“I never! I do not! I am nothing like her!” Minerva sat up straight, indignant and put out by his comparing her to the Slytherin witch.

“Oh, it’s just that I have to forgive Gertrude at least once every visit for some blunt remark or another that would mortally wound a more sensitive soul than I,” he said with a grin, quite amused by Minerva’s outrage. “O’ course, she’s usually not askin’ for me forgiveness in so many words, not as you did. But I recognise her apologies now.”

Minerva was quite uninterested in what Gertie’s apologies might look like. “Well, you’ll just have to get to know me better, then, and you’ll see how much we differ.”

“I already said you were prettier and more fun! Isn’t that what every witch would like to hear?”

Minerva rolled her eyes. “I swear, Quin, you can be so irritating! I don’t know why I wanted to apologise!”

“’Tis me charm and me breedin’, naturally,” he replied with an impish smile. “Speakin’ of breedin’, by the way, what did you think of the happy couple?”

“Oh, just . . . awful. Especially her. I knew her slightly from school, and she’s even worse than I remember. Orion seemed bored.”

“He probably was. I think he wishes he weren’t a Black, but he’d never say that. He may not even admit it to himself. But he is rather hemmed in by his family. Limited choices in life. He even apparently had an inappropriate liaison with someone unacceptable, but the family forgave him – let him sow his wild oats, so to speak – but in the end, he’ll marry that witch. She’s a shrew in the making, isn’t she?”

“Shrew – perfect word for her. And given how Orion just sat there, he’ll probably let her have her way in the little things, then go out and have a bit on the side, as they say.”

“Mm. I doubt meself that he ever really stopped seein’ the ‘inappropriate’ witch.”

“Was she Muggle-born?”

“I don’t think so; ’twould’a been too much, even for a rebellious son, if he still wants his inheritance – I think it was her mother or father who was, I don’t pay that much attention to such gossip . . . only enough to use it later, if I have to.”

“You sound Slytherin.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Minerva.”

“Well . . . most of the people here are Slytherins. You can’t say they exemplify many of the virtues I would hope you want to instill in your children.”

“No, but Gertrude is Slytherin, and I wouldn’t mind if Alroy and Aine took a few lessons from her.”

Minerva raised an eyebrow, but said nothing against her hostess.

“You know, I was teasin’ you about just bein’ acquaintances an’ all, but you really don’t know her at all, do you?”

“I have known her since I was a third-year. I took Arithmancy from her for five years. I have taught with her for about six months. During those six months, we rarely spoke, and when we did, it concerned the school. Her invitation came as a surprise.”

“To hear her talk, though, she seems to know you fairly well,” Quin said, puzzled.

“Yes, well, she is friends with Professor Dumbledore. He has been . . . something of a mentor to me. A friend, in fact. Gertrude no doubt has a better sense of who I am simply from speaking with him – and, as you said of the gossip about Orion, she probably listened to what Albus had to say about me in order to use it later on if she needed to.”

“Hmm, that sounds rather cold.”

“It is Slytherin,” Minerva responded succinctly.

“Well, I’ve known Gertie since I first met me Aileen, and I can tell you that she is not merely . . . manipulative, as you make ‘Slytherin’ sound. No more than I am, and perhaps less so.”

Minerva raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I ought to reconsider our acquaintance then,” she said, only slightly in jest. “And what are these other qualities that you believe she possesses?”

“Loyalty, for one.”

Minerva gave a short laugh. “I have heard her described that way before, actually.”

“Yes, well, ’tis true. And if she’d made a different choice at eleven, we’d not be havin’ this conversation at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“We may have had another sorta conversation, about how she wasn’t only loyal, but was also pragmatic and wily.”

“I still don’t follow . . . .”

“Well, I didn’t go to Hogwarts, as you know, but as most of me friends have, I do know something of the Houses. Isn’t one of the traits of Hufflepuff supposed to be loyalty?” Quin asked.

Minerva knit her brow. “Yes, but – ”

“Young Gertie very nearly was sorted into Hufflepuff, but the prospect distressed her so, that hat-thing put her in Slytherin, instead, where her family usually is put.”

Minerva looked at Quin in astonishment. “No! I don’t believe it! Hufflepuff?!”

“It’s doubtin’ me word again, is it?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I can’t believe it. Hufflepuff? Half of them are Muggle-born, and half of those who aren’t are mixed blood. And they certainly aren’t known for their . . . ambition and cunning!”

Quin shrugged. “Always seemed like a daft thing to me, these Houses. But none o’ me business. Just seems that most people are a mix o’ this an’ that, an’ doesn’t strike me as particularly healthy to divide kids up like that so young. ’Tis one o’ me reservations about sendin’ me own kids there. But Aileen went, and she turned out just fine.”

“What was she?” Minerva asked.

“You mean what House? So you want to be judgin’ me late wife, one o’ the finest witches to ever grace this earth?”

“No, it’s just, if she was a Gamp . . . I was wondering if she were in Slytherin, too. It would be another surprise, that’s all.”

“Why? Bah . . . no point in arguin’ about such nonsense. She was Ravenclaw. Seems the best o’ the Houses, to me, an’ no offense to Gryffindor.”

“None taken.” Hmm. Hufflepuff?

“I should be off to check on me kids. You’re invited, if you’d like to come. Alroy seemed to take a shine to you. He said you talked to him like a real person, not like he was ‘half daft,’” Quin said with a grin.

“I should hope so. But, no, I don’t think I will this afternoon, Quin. I think I’ll read my letter and perhaps take a nap before dinner.”

“May I escort you to dinner? I will be properly attired and attempt to behave meself,” he said with a twinkle, reminding her of the previous evening.

Minerva smiled. “Yes, I’d like that. If you don’t see me downstairs at the first gong, feel free to come fetch me.”

Minerva went back to her bedroom and took pleasure in fixing herself a cup of peppermint tea from Albus’s little care package, then curled up in one of the armchairs with it and her letter. Minerva had been surprised to see that Poppy was writing to her so soon after having sent her first “rescue owl” – she hadn’t anticipated another one until the next morning. She held her tea mug in one hand and unfolded the letter to read what Poppy had to say that couldn’t wait until the next day.

“9 July
“Dear Minerva,

“Whatever you do while you are there, avoid Valerianna Yaxley like scrofungulus! She is a nasty piece of work. I am not surprised that you say she took an instant dislike to you, but do not pay any attention to anything she says! She’s likely to say some very ugly things to you, given half the chance. Do not give her that chance, do not listen to her, and, most especially, do not respond to any of her provocations – she will try to provoke you, Minerva, please just take my word for it.

“I wish I had known that witch was going to be there, or I would have warned you in advance. I didn’t think that the Gamps would have her around, but perhaps they couldn’t avoid it. Stick with Gertie and that Quin fellow. Gertie has mentioned him to me before, and he sounds decent, if a bit peculiar. Don’t go near Valerianna, particularly not alone, but if you must be in the same room with her, at dinner or such, just smile and act like she’s speaking Greek (you don’t speak Greek, do you?). Anyway, just act as though she’s saying nothing at all, or it’s complete gibberish. It will be!

“I hope this week isn’t a complete disaster for you. Well, they say that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger – so just think of this as an exercise, or something. I hope that Gertie has the sense to keep you two apart.

“I will send you another letter in the morning, in case you want to leave. If you’d like, you can come visit me at Violet’s. I will be here at least until Sunday.

“Take care of yourself, and if you decide to stay, please write me tonight and let me know you are surviving. I am sure you are. But I am nervous anyway.

“Poppy.”

Note: As always, I'd love to hear what you think!

[Hogwarts Duo]

Talk about packing a punch and coming back with a vengence...you sure do know how to make up for your absence. Though let me say that the wait was worth it and the other story was/is phenomenol, even with Snape in it! (Hey, you didn't think I'd give up an opportunity to take a jab at Snape, did you?? Silly you! )

I can't believe Gertie was nearly sorted into Hufflepuff. That's almost hysterical in some respects. Poor Hufflepuffs if they'd have to endure her in their house LOL. (Okay, had to get in the Gertie jab there I suppose...wouldn't be a proper review from me if it was missing).

And let me just say MERLIN'S BEARD about Poppy's letter. I wish she's thought to tell Minerva that bit about Valerianna before she ever left the school or even in her first letter. Even if the thought the wretch wasn't going to be there, she should have been open and honest with Minerva and given her a heads up about her past with Albus. Now I can only close my eyes and cringe at what's going to happen now that Minerva has engaged in jabs with this woman...sigh.

Please update soon....both stories if you please LOL. Nope, no greedy little meeses (think plural of mouse and yes I know it's spelled incorrectly ;D ) here!

[sevherfan]

I came here from fanfiction.net - I always feel like it is an early Christmas present when I find updates to stories I like on other websites faster. I'm so glad you've finally updated, I was missing your constant flow of new chapters. Love the new one, just wish there was more Albus.

I decided to review here because of your signature: it reminded me I had to take back something I thought. I assumed the story would probably end (after 100 chapters) with a chaste kiss, but after reading An Act of Love -> WHOA YOU DO WRITE HOT STUFF!!!!! hehe, I'll expect it here as well.

[MMADfan]

sevherfan said:

I came here from fanfiction.net - I always feel like it is an early Christmas present when I find updates to stories I like on other websites faster. I'm so glad you've finally updated, I was missing your constant flow of new chapters. Love the new one, just wish there was more Albus.

I decided to review here because of your signature: it reminded me I had to take back something I thought. I assumed the story would probably end (after 100 chapters) with a chaste kiss, but after reading An Act of Love -> WHOA YOU DO WRITE HOT STUFF!!!!! hehe, I'll expect it here as well.

;D I had to laugh out loud at that! A chaste kiss! Haha! After all this work, all this build up, you thought I'd end this story with a chaste kiss! Hee! True, there is a lot more to go before we get there, but you can bet there won't be a just a chaste kiss in the final chapter! (I'm glad that you reviewed and very glad you liked the "hot stuff" in "An Act of Love"! *big grin*) I also went ahead and updated tonight at ffnet -- I usually wait at least a day before posting to ffnet after posting here, but it's been a while 'cause of "An Act of Love" taking so much of my writing time, I thought I'd go ahead and post at ffnet right after posting here. (I do always post here first, though.)

Thanks for reviewing here -- and for letting me know that you read "An Act of Love"! Hope to see you around here or at ffnet or over at TPP!

[Gemmie Lou]

still lovin this need more xx

[PiER]

Reviewed at ff.net but I thought, hey, what the heck, we all love reviews so bobs your uncle here I am.

Sweet Mother of Merlin it's absolutely fabulous! I am still rooting for Gertie! Go Gertie Go!

Madam Pomphrey has got some explaining to do!

But still to come is the party right? Flirty Quin will be accompanying Mischievous Min? What will Val and Gert make of that?

Actually the more I think about it the more I would like for Quin and Albus to meet. What would be even more fun would be if Quin called Minerva 'love' and continued to act flirty. Albus' jealous reaction would be classic!

Of course whatever you do will be just brilliant! I can't sing your praise enough *grin*

PiER

[FireBird]

Oh great, now I don't only have to wonder what Gertie's (good!) motives are, but what the deal with Val is, too. Not that more suspense is a bad thing... unless it goes on forever. So I'd really appreciate finding out more about either soon. (Translates into: Update ASAP, please!)
But Gertie was almost in Hufflepuff! Hah! She can't be that bad!
*cackles madly*
*random onlookers start backing away*
*looks around innocently*
'What? I've just gotten another good argument. I'm allowed to celebrate.'

Erm, anyway. This is still great, I still love it and I still eagerly await the next installment.

[MMADfan]

Notes: Thank you to everyone who left a comment after the last chapter. I'm glad folks are enjoying the story even this many chapters into it!

LXIX: More Relatives

Minerva reread Poppy’s letter and decided that she should write back immediately in order to reassure her friend. It must be that Poppy had known something about that Person and Albus, after all, and, for whatever reason, had not ever mentioned it to her. On the other hand, it could simply be that Poppy had some other reason for mistrusting and disliking the witch, but Minerva could hardly think what would call for such vociferous and vehement warnings. Indeed, the mere fact that Albus had been seeing the witch and had broken it off was probably insufficient to have called forth such a response, no matter how unpleasant the witch was. Minerva was very curious now as to what could have provoked Poppy to warn her so strongly. Really! Never be alone with her? What would she do? Hex her?

Minerva put aside her idea of a nap for the moment and pulled out a piece of parchment.

“Tuesday, 9 July
“The Gamp Estate

“Dear Poppy,

“Please do not concern yourself about that witch. I am fine. She is obnoxious, to be sure, but I can handle her. I will do my best not to let her provoke me, as you recommend, but the woman is provocative. All she has to do is enter the room and her mere presence raises my hackles.

“Gertrude had already warned me about her before I first laid eyes on her. She told me a few things about her and said it was likely that she would be unpleasant. Forewarned is forearmed, they say, and it was fortunate that she gave me the warning, as the witch in question made various vague insinuations and thinly veiled insults from the very moment I met her. I have tried not to stoop to her level, however.

“I am interested to hear exactly what prompted your warnings, Poppy. I do not remember you ever mentioning this witch before. I wonder if it is merely her general reputation that concerns you or something more specific, and if it is something specific, whether it accords with what Gertrude told me of her. And, at that, why you believe it has anything to do with me and to such an extent that you feel you must warn me not even to be alone with her! That is an extreme recommendation, you must admit.

“I have spent more time with Gertrude, as you seemed to suggest I should in you most recent letter. I find myself alternating between warming to the witch and feeling offended and annoyed by her. I have since learned something about her which has intrigued me, however, and I have decided to treat her as I would a problem in Transfiguration and try not to view each of her remarks as though it has a hidden meaning intended for me. Instead, I am going to try to figure her out, just Gertrude Gamp, and take myself out of the picture – if I can – she really can be most irritating, Poppy!

“It is interesting that you also mention Quin in your letter. He and I have spent a good deal of time together, in part out of our mutual distaste for the rest of the company (which makes me wonder why we are here at all!), but also, I think, out of genuine mutual regard. He is odd, as you say, and very different from most wizards of my acquaintance, but amusing and charming, nonetheless, and I have grown somewhat fond of him and feel almost as though we are old friends, despite knowing so little about him and understanding him even less.

“I plan to stay through the party on Wednesday evening. They call it an engagement party, but it’s really more like a ball. I am very glad I went to my parents’ house Sunday and found some appropriate robes. I think they all find me quite outlandish as it is – or they would, except that Quin is even more strange to them than I am! Anyway, Quin and I will be attending the party together – as allies, Poppy! Don’t go getting any ideas in your head! – and it will certainly be interesting. Do you remember Orion and Walburga from school? They’re both Blacks. They are the lovely couple. You can just imagine how utterly thrilled I am to help them celebrate their impending nuptials!

“Don’t worry about me, Poppy. I am sure I will survive. I have been through worse, I am certain! I do look forward to returning home to Hogwarts on Thursday morning, though. I have given only a little thought to your invitation, but it would be nice to see you soon. Are you still planning to visit your grandmother after your visit at Violet’s, or will you be returning to Hogwarts on Sunday?

“Thank you for writing! I am sure we will have a lot to talk about when we see each other.

“Warmly,

“Minerva”

Minerva read it over quickly. Somehow, writing it did make her feel as though everything would be fine and that she was equal to anything this lot could throw at her. She’d post it immediately, glad that the Gamps had their own private owlery. She should still have time for a nap before dinner.

As she walked across the grounds on her way to the owlery, Minerva heard raised voices. One of them was Valerianna’s. Minerva stepped closer, then, curious, stopped to listen.

“ – don’t know why she invited that chit here. She doesn’t belong. It’s not as though she is even a friend of Walburga and Orion’s, after all. She’s just a stuck-up little bint, scarcely better than a Mudblood!”

Minerva could hear a voice trying to soothe her, but couldn’t make out the words.

“Don’t you give me that! She must know. He must have told her. Or someone did. She understood too much. She must have finagled that invitation, that’s the only explanation. She wriggled her way into Gertie’s good graces somehow and came here just to show me up. Well, she won’t. She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with, the little no-account bitch. We’ll give her a tale to bring back to her master – you will co-operate, Francis, won’t you?” she wheedled. “I know how much you want to please me, darling, and this will please me. I know you wanted to wait, but we can’t. Not now.”

Another almost inaudible response from Flint seemed to please the witch.

“Oh, you are such a darling, Francis! I knew you’d come around. Thank you! I’m sure you’ll be happier now, too.” Valerianna’s voice faded as the couple apparently began to walk away.

Hmmpf. So Valerianna thought she’d come there just to do something to her? That witch had a serious problem if she believed that Minerva would do anything on her account. Egomania, Minerva thought it was called. Minerva wondered what it was that Francis had agreed to do for her. She hoped it wasn’t anything nasty, although considering the two of them, it very likely was. And then that bit about her “master”? Minerva was sure that the woman had been speaking of her, so the only person to whom she could be referring would be Albus. She certainly had a peculiar notion of their relationship. “Master,” indeed! And since Albus had never mentioned Valerianna, it seemed doubtful that he had any interest at all in the doings of the witch, especially not three years later. No, Albus had probably dismissed her from his mind just as he had dismissed her from his life. He certainly wouldn’t care what news Minerva brought back about her.

Minerva posted her letter. Walking back through the gardens, she found Quin, Ella, and Gertrude, who were watching Aine and Alroy play some incomprehensible game. Minerva greeted them warmly, thankful she hadn’t run into Valeriana and her barnacle. She also wanted to talk to Gertrude and mention Poppy’s letter to her. Gertrude would surely know whether Poppy was warning her for the same reasons that Gertrude had. Unfortunately, with Ella and Quin both there, Minerva couldn’t think of a discreet way to broach the subject. She would have to get Gertrude alone later, she decided. Minerva took a seat on the bench next to Quin; Gertrude and Ella sat in the garden chairs next to each other on Minerva’s other side.

Minerva couldn’t figure out what it was the children were doing, but they seemed to be having fun.

“How many other children are here this week, Gertrude?” Minerva asked.

“A few. Bella, of course, whom you met, is six. Barty Crouch should be arriving this evening with his parents; you must remember him from school – a second-year Ravenclaw. The others are toddlers – Bella’s two younger sisters and the little Malfoy boy, who arrived with his mother this afternoon.”

“Where are they? You’d think they would all be out enjoying the lovely afternoon.”

“I am sure I don’t know, although the three toddlers may be down for a nap. Bella, it seems, finds the company of Aine and Alroy quite dull,” Gertrude answered.

Minerva barked a laugh at that. “She’s what? Seven? Six? I would think at that age, she’d be thrilled to hang about with older children. Or won’t they have her?”

“She has picked up the Black family nose, I am afraid, and has decided that the MacAirt name has rendered me offspring little more than jumped-up half-bloods,” Quin said.

“Not that I particularly care, Quin, but it seems that you are not Muggle-born, and your wife surely wasn’t, so I don’t see where that would come from,” Minerva said.

“Ah, the MacAirts have never been particular about blood; families such as the Blacks assume there’s so much ‘impurity’ floating about me family tree, I might as well be half-blood meself.” Quin grinned. “O’ course, the MacAirts live long, productive lives, unlike the Blacks – every time I see’em, they look more sickly. The Malfoys ain’t much better. Look at Abraxas – younger than me an’ cold in the ground already.”

“Well, it was dragonpox, dear,” Ella admonished gently. “That could strike any of us.”

“Me granddad had dragonpox when he was eighty, and he pulled through just fine,” Quin said, stretching his long legs out in front of him and lacing his fingers behind his neck. “They inbreed. Just keep weakenin’ the line . . . o’ course, it means the inheritance gets passed on quicker.” He grinned.

“Hush, Quin! Talk like that is as bad as theirs,” Gertie chided.

“Hmm. But I do think it amusin’ that for all their talk, they end up more like Muggles than the rest of us,” Quin responded. Seeing Gertie’s reproving look, he changed the subject. “Speakin’ o’ family, Gertrude, when is Robert arriving? Or did he decide not to come this year?”

“He should be arriving this afternoon. He told me he’d be here for dinner.”

“Robert?” asked Minerva.

“My son,” answered Gertrude.

Minerva just blinked. She hadn’t yet completely comprehended that Gertrude had once been married. The thought that she may have had children had never entered Minerva’s head. Gertrude was certainly one of the least maternal witches she knew.

“He is only coming for a day or so,” Gertrude continued. “Thea, his wife, is pregnant and can’t travel. She’s miscarried four times in the past, and he doesn’t want to leave her for long, understandably.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Um, I don’t wish to be forward, but my mother, as you may know, is a midwife. She claims to be retired, but she still sees patients. I don’t know if your son and his wife would like another opinion, but I know she’s dealt with similar cases . . . .”

Gertie looked at Minerva and smiled. “Thank you, Minerva. I shall mention that to Robert. I am not certain whether your mother would want to travel so far, though. They live in Amsterdam.”

Minerva grinned. “I’m sure that would be an added attraction. She might even drag my father with her.”

Gertie winked at her. “And he’d be wise to go, too – no knowing what a witch can get up to in Amsterdam, after all!”

Minerva laughed at the thought of her mother carousing in Amsterdam. “I think she would be happy to take a look at your son’s wife, though, Gertrude. She has decades of experience with such things, and she also keeps up with all the latest developments. I am sure that your daughter-in-law has seen the best healers in Amsterdam, but as I said, if she’d like, I am sure my mother would be happy to look in on her, make some recommendations.”

Gertrude reached out and patted Minerva’s hand, and Minerva could have sworn she saw a tear in her eye. “Thank you. It has been a terrible grief to them both. And to me,” she added softly. She took a deep breath and turned back to Ella. “Have you heard from Granville lately?”

“No, no. Last I heard from him, he was leaving India for Nepal. That was a month ago. If you see a vulture winging its way across the grounds, it’s likely from him!” She chuckled. Ella turned to Minerva. “Granville is my somewhat unconventional brother. He finds the strictures of the Western wizarding world too confining, so he spends most of his time travelling, rarely staying any one place more than a few months at a time.”

“We all thought Granville had finally settled down when he spent more than a year in Hawaii a few years back, but then he apparently discovered that Hawaiian witches think that courtship should lead to marriage, just as their British counterparts do, and so he, um, moved on,” Quin said with a chuckle as he put an arm around Minerva’s shoulders.

Minerva smiled. “And what of your own family, Quin? Do you have brothers? You mentioned a sister.”

“I have four lovely sisters. Three older, one younger.”

“Ah! That explains it!” Minerva grinned.

“What is that?” he asked.

Gertie quirked a half smile. “I think that Minerva may be speaking of your general manner around ladies, Quin.”

“Hmmph! I’ll have to tell me sisters, then, that they’re the reason I turned out to be the rogue I am!” He winked. “An’ then I’ll be thankin’em for it!”

Minerva elbowed Quin lightly in the ribs, but laughed along with the other women. As they were kidding Quin about his habit of charming the ladies, Gertrude suddenly sprang from her seat.

“Robbie!”

Minerva looked over to see a tall, young, traditionally-dressed wizard with reddish-brown hair striding toward them, his forest-green robes flapping about his long legs. She assumed it was Gertrude’s son. He had the witch’s widely-spaced grey eyes, high cheekbones, and sturdy build. Quin stood and smiled at the approaching wizard.

Robert Crouch, as Minerva supposed he must be, bent his head to kiss his mother lightly on the cheek as she grasped his arms in a half-embrace. He smiled slightly at her. “Hello, Mother. Krantzy told me I would find you here,” he said softly.

“I’m glad you could come, Robbie. How is Thea?”

“She’s well. Resting, which she hates, of course, but she’s well.” Minerva thought she could detect a slight, indefinable accent to his speech.

“I’d like you to meet one of my colleagues,” Gertrude said, turning toward Minerva. “This is Minerva McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher. Minerva, I would like you to meet my son, Robert.”

Minerva held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Robert smiled and took her hand. “It is good to finally meet you, Minerva. I have heard so much about you for so many years, I feel as though I know you. You must forgive me if I am too familiar,” he said quietly but warmly, his grey eyes smiling down at her.

Minerva returned his smile, unsure what to say to that. He had heard about her for years? How very . . . curious.

“Ah, but she’s been used to me company now, Robbie. You’ll be a proper gentleman in comparison!” Quin said, shaking the younger wizard’s hand and clapping his shoulder. “You do look well, but a mite pale. We’ll have to get you out for a clamber later!”

Robert smiled and nodded, greeted Ella, who was smiling genially from her chair, then he turned back to his mother. “Is Uncle Albus here yet?”

“He’s not coming this year, Robbie,” his mother replied softly.

Uncle Albus? Minerva looked at Gertrude and her son. He couldn’t mean that literally. Could he? No, Gertrude’s father had been a Crouch. A great-uncle, perhaps? But that seemed unlikely.

Robert frowned slightly. “Oh. That is a disappointment. It has been so long – he wasn’t here last year, either.”

“He is busy with the school, you know that. Come, now, take a walk with your old mother!” Gertie took her son’s arm, and the two excused themselves and set off down the path toward the hedge maze.

Quin sat down again, this time in the chair vacated by Gertrude. Ella excused herself, saying she thought she’d take a nap before dressing for dinner.

Minerva glanced at Quin, who was stretched out, eyes closed. The children had run off to another part of the garden some time before. “Quin?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you know Robert well?”

“Fairly. Not as well as I know Gertrude. He doesn’t get to England often. I visit him when I’m anywhere near Amsterdam. He only lived here for a couple of years after his father died, and most o’ that time, he was in school. When he came of age, he joined the fight against Grindelwald, much to his mother’s distress, and he met Thea and her family. They married as soon as Grindelwald was defeated, and he settled in Amsterdam with his wife.”

“Why was Gertie distressed when he joined up to fight against Grindelwald?” asked Minerva suspiciously.

Quin opened one eye and looked at her before closing it again. “Do you really need to ask, Minerva? You may not be a mother, but . . . .”

“Oh. Of course.” Minerva was still uneasy. “But surely she would want her son to do what he could to bring down the man who killed his father.”

“Yes, who killed his father, and then, a few years later, killed her brother,” Quin answered. “He is her only child, Minerva. And she already almost lost him once to that madman.”

“You always say things that just raise more questions than I started with, Quin! What do you mean ‘she already almost lost him once’?”

“Robert was almost sixteen when his father was killed. He and a few of his friends thought it might be a good idea to exact revenge,” Quin responded, shaking his head at their foolishness. “They took off from home, scarin’ their parents half to death, but they actually managed to track down one of Grindelwald’s top men and were in the process of trying to discover their headquarters – as if a bunch of teenagers could have penetrated their wards let alone detected them! – when they were very nearly caught. Albus swooped in just as they were comin’ under attack – what they had thought was a very clever ambush had actually been an ambush for them. Albus was able to rescue all four of the muttonheads. O’ course, he couldn’t rescue them from the ire of their parents, but it had been a daft, dangerous thing to have done. They all would surely have been captured or killed. Even at that time, Grindelwald was not known for his hospitality toward his enemies, and it is doubtful that he would have cared that they were all fifteen and sixteen years old.”

“Oh. I see now. When was this?”

“Umm, ’35, I think, or ’36. It was a couple o’ years before Gertrude started teachin’ at Hogwarts. I hadn’t met Aileen yet, so I didn’t know them. They had been livin’ in Germany since before Robert was born. Gertrude moved back here and kept Robert on a short leash until he returned for his last year of school.”

“He didn’t go to Hogwarts, then.”

“No, he went t’ Durmstrang. She had him safely home during the holidays where she could keep an eye on him.”

“Is that why Robert calls him ‘Uncle Albus’?” Minerva asked.

“Rather doubt it. O’ course, it may be why he continues to, even as an adult.”

“I was confused for a moment – it crossed my mind that he might really be Robert’s uncle.”

“As far as I know, Dumbledore is not closely related to either the Crouches or the Gamps, although it’s possible, I suppose. I think his mother was a Muggle-born, though – leastwise, that’s what I remember – so if he is related to them, it’d have to be through his father, and I’ve never heard the Crouches braggin’ that they’re related to the Dumbledores, sure an’ they would be if ’twere true.”

Minerva sat and digested this. She hadn’t heard anything about Albus’s parents. But of course, there were likely few alive now who had known them, and those few were likely quite old themselves, now. But Minerva didn’t care about Albus’s parents. She did wonder about Albus and his relationship with Gertrude and her son. But if Robert lived in Amsterdam, it was likely they rarely saw one another. Minerva felt that any further speculation on her part would appear to Quin to be both rude and peculiar, so she changed the subject.

“Speaking of relations, Quin, I was wondering if you are related to Hafrena MacAirt, the Divination teacher at Hogwarts.”

“Mmm.” Quin had closed his eyes again. “She’s me cousin. Me father’s first cousin, t’be precise.”

“Huh. So she’s related to Carson?”

“Mmmhm.”

“Am I keeping you up, Quin?” Minerva asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, you did keep me up last night, lass, an’ then Gertrude sent one godawful ugly son-of-a-house-elf to wake me at the crack o’dawn – as you may remember – an’ then I was busy with the kiddies in the mornin’, followed by the pleasure of lunchin’ with all those charmin’ folk this noon. Is it a wonder a man’d like a bit o’shut-eye?” Quin sat up and grinned at her. “Why don’t we walk? We can find the kids, or not, and it’ll keep me awake and concentratin’ on your lovely self an’ not the back o’ me eyelids!”

Minerva laughed and took his arm.

“You were askin’ after me cousin, Hafrena – ain’t she lumbered with a name, though? – I don’t know her well.”

“Neither do I. I dropped Divination after my fifth year. Load of rubbish.”

Quin smirked at her. “Rubbish?”

“I’d always wondered why Carson continued with it. Must be because his cousin was teaching it and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

Quin laughed out loud. “It never occurred to you that he might like it – or have a talent for it?”

“Well, I suppose he might have. He’d always just laugh when I expressed my opinion on the subject.”

“Very tolerant boy, was Carson. Divination skills run in the MacAirt family, Minerva. Don’t look at me that way! That’s worse than when you thought I was lettin’ me boy burn his self out! O’ course, the witches are the ones with the real Gift. But most o’ the rest of us are a fair shake at it. Carson probably had a bit o’ talent for it.”

Minerva chuckled. “Well, I think it’s a bunch of imprecise poppycock, and if you make enough predictions and word them mysteriously enough, there’s bound to be a few that could be interpreted to have come true.”

“Divination isn’t only about predictin’ the future, Minerva. You should know that. That’s just the part of it that people want most to exploit. It’s also about knowin’ the present. Knowin’ the people around you. In business, I use it to help me decide whether a person or an enterprise is worth my trust and investment, not necessarily to predict how an investment will turn out.”

“Hmmph. Still all seems vague and shadowy to me. You’re better off just getting to know the people and doing some research.”

Quin shrugged a shoulder. “Perhaps. But it works for me, most times. Not that I’m particularly gifted. My gran, on the other hand, she was remarkable. Course, she was mostly interested in folks makin’ good matches, not in business partnerships, but she could look at a person – wouldn’t even need to do anythin’ – and she could tell you about the match that would make you happy. An’ what ones would bring you to ruination. She tried warnin’ some couples away from ill-advised marriages. They didn’t listen, and you can imagine the results.” Quin shook his head dramatically.

“What? A lifetime of happiness and a houseful of children?” asked Minerva with a smirk.

“Unhappiness, death, ill-fortune, all kinds of sadness. Gran never said ‘I told you so,’ though.”

Minerva looked at him skeptically. “Yes, well, I can look at Walburga and Orion and say that they are fated for disaster, and their children are, as well. I don’t think there’s an ounce of Divination involved. Just common sense.”

Quin grinned. “Well, not all folks have got common sense.”

Minerva stifled a yawn.

“Now who’s keepin’ who up?” Quin teased.

“Oh, I had thought to have a nap this afternoon, but I will settle for a splash of cold water before I dress for dinner,” Minerva answered. “I suppose we should head up to the house to change now.”

“You go on ahead. I’m goin’ to find me kids and make sure they are scrubbed up proper.”

Minerva headed back to the house, wishing she had had an opportunity to ask Gertrude about the contents of Poppy’s letter. She’d try to catch her alone after dinner for a few minutes. Minerva didn’t want to monopolise her hostess’s time; after all, Gertrude rarely saw her son, but he probably wanted to socialise with some of the other guests, anyway. Minerva was sure she could catch her for a few minutes and find out more about what was going on that would warrant such an almost hysterical reaction on Poppy’s part.

Notes: Hope you like this installment. I look forward to your thoughts!

[Hogwarts Duo]

Ohhh, so many questions and so little space to write a review...sigh. OKay, here goes...

I'm very glad Poppy wrote back with a warning to Minerva but I noticed that Minerva mentioned nothing of her escapades with Quin in her reply letter. Tsk Tsk...she should not have kept that little tidbit hidden. Now it will really look like she's trying to hide it later. I really hope that doesn't come back to bite her later.

That Valerianna...grrrrr. She's a nasty piece of work and no wonder Albus dumped her. I can't imagine what he ever saw in her except that she resembled Minerva. That's the only good quality that wretched woman has...blech. Yay that Minerva overhead her conversation in the garden though. As she said...to be forewarned is to be forearmed...so lots of luck there. I'm nervous and curious to see what Valerianna has planned for Minerva. I know it can't be good.

Uncle Albus??? That was a surprise from left field. At least we know they're not related...whew. I can see Robert calling Albus that though since he's known him for years and his mom worked closely with Albus. And it was very sweet of Minerva to offer to contact her mother on behalf of Gertie's daughter in law. Awwww.

Now, hurry up and get to writing that next scene so we'll know more about how bad the situation is with Valerianna and exactly WHY Robert feels so comfy in calling him Uncle Albus....pleeeassseeeee!!!!!

GLM

[Alesia]

I can't agree with the Duo more. I loved this update and it is full of more questions then answers - how fabo is that!

I really do think Quin is going to end up as one more misunderstanding between Albus and Minerva. Gertie has soo many layers so many secrets and the more you peal away the more you find Albus.

How interesting. Please more soon.

[MMADfan]

alesia said:

Gertie has soo many layers so many secrets and the more you peal away the more you find Albus.

I think that has to be the quote of the day.

I'm glad you both liked it -- and there will be a lot of questions, and I'm afraid I'm a bit like Quin when it comes to answering them: rarely straightforward and more likely to raise more questions than provide answers! ;D

Thanks for the comments! I'm lovin' them!

[FireBird]

What a chapter. Not a single question answered, instead there now are many more. It's starting to become a wee bit irksome, you know. Not to mention that all the relations in this family are grwoing mre and more confusingly complex by the chapter.
I still love the story, but it is a bit frustrating, so I would be extremely grateful for a quick update.

[MMADfan]

tigerlime said:

What a chapter. Not a single question answered, instead there now are many more. It's starting to become a wee bit irksome, you know. Not to mention that all the relations in this family are grwoing mre and more confusingly complex by the chapter.
I still love the story, but it is a bit frustrating, so I would be extremely grateful for a quick update.

Ah, well, don't want to leave you too frustrated, do I? Don't worry too much about the family relationships. I keep them straight so you don't have to! LOL! ;D

Keep an eye out for an update very shortly!

[MMADfan]

Note: This chapter is divided in two because of its length. I hope you enjoy it!

LXX: Dinner and Divination

Later that night, Minerva relaxed in her bedroom with a cup of chamomile tea and reread Albus’s letter to lift her spirits. She hadn’t even been able to see Gertrude after dinner, let alone speak with her, there were so many guests, and so she had spent the evening with Quin.

The dining room itself had been expanded that evening to accommodate all of the guests – quite a trick, she thought, but probably the work of the house-elves – and there had to have been fifty people seated at the u-shaped table. She had again been seated beside Quin at dinner, for which she was grateful, since Flint was seated on her left and Valerianna was across from him. Fortunately, the Crouches, Alfred and Dora, were seated across from her and Quin. Their son, Barty, was also at dinner and made polite conversation with Alroy about Hogwarts and what he could expect when he arrived. Minerva had developed a good opinion of Barty Crouch during the last term, so she was pleased to see that his parents weren’t typical of the rest of the guests, although they were somewhat reserved, which was fine with her. Better that than the false friendliness Valerianna was exuding. Caspar and Charis Crouch, Alfred’s brother and sister-in-law, were on the other side of Valerianna and Francis.

Flint, to his credit, did seem to try to be pleasant, but Minerva had the feeling that he had received a kick in the shins at one point. They had only been discussing mutual acquaintances they knew at the Ministry, and Francis had begun telling her about some changes that had been made in the departments since she’d left, when he suddenly winced and looked up at Valerianna, who appeared to be trying to charm Alfred Crouch. Francis took a quick swallow of wine, and Minerva turned her attention to Quin, who was chatting with Dora about some Muggle musical they had both seen. She might not like the milquetoast, and Francis certainly had a problem with Quin, but Minerva didn’t want to cause him any problems with Valerianna. There were probably better ways to annoy the witch, anyway.

Minerva found it difficult to avoid looking at Valerianna without appearing to be avoiding looking at her. Dinner was extremely awkward, particularly after Valerianna began discussing the merits of recent marriages and stressing how wonderful it was that Walburga and Orion were marrying. She went on and on, never actually using the words “Muggle,” “Muggle-born,” or “half-blood,” but she was a master at conveying precisely what she meant without actually saying it. At one point, Quin placed his hand on Minerva’s thigh, almost physically restraining her. Valerianna had begun to discourse on how some witches and wizards were simply unmarriageable but didn’t have a clue about the reason no one would want them. Minerva had been just about to jump into the conversation with a remark or two of her own about who was and who wasn’t marriageable when Quin’s left hand landed on her leg. Minerva glowered at him, in a thoroughly foul mood after having had to listen to the witch’s strident voice waxing on about marriage, suitability, and “the right people.” Quin just gripped her leg and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before shaking his head slightly. Minerva was about to say something anyway, but then she remembered Poppy’s words of caution and took a bite of her dinner, instead. Quin gave her a quick pat before returning his hand to his own lap.

After dinner, Minerva had taken Quin’s offered arm and allowed him to lead her to the conservatory and out onto the veranda. He led her over to one corner of the veranda, and they leaned against the masonry railing and looked out at a spectacular sunset.

“I would like to apologise, Minerva, for bein’ so forward,” he said, after looking about to see if there was anyone nearby.

“Hmm? For what? Oh . . . that,” she said, remembering his hand resting on her thigh. “That’s all right; I was about to open my mouth and likely make a scene. Just as well I didn’t. I think she gave me indigestion, though.”

“I don’t know if anything you said could have topped Dora’s remark, though,” he said, grinning.

“Oh, yes, that was funny!” Minerva said, remembering the look on Valerianna’s face when the Dora, in response to one of Valerianna’s rhetorical questions, said, quite matter-of-factly, yes, it was very important to make a good match, which was why she was so pleased that her sister had recently married the most adorable Muggle-born wizard in England, especially since he was also very talented and quite wealthy, too – of course, Dora had emphasised, it was Muggle money, but still quite useful to have when keeping up a manor house, which was, unfortunately, also Muggle, but as it had been in his family for generations, it seemed in poor taste to ask him to give it up just because it had electricity and a telephone! Valerianna had recovered quite nicely, but had clearly been embarrassed by her extended faux pas.

Minerva shivered. As the sun went in, it had grown chillier.

“Cold, Minerva?”

“Just a bit. But I don’t want to go in. I don’t think I feel up to being civilised just yet,” she answered.

Quin drew his wand from its ornately embroidered sheath and cast a warming spell on the area around them. “Better?”

“My! The ‘hedge wizard’ used a wand,” she teased. “Yes, thanks. Very nice spell.”

“Handy, anyway. And I usually do use my wand. It’s only every-day spells that I cast wandlessly – simple ones that I use all of the time – or, of course, magic that is naturally wandless.”

“What do you mean by ‘naturally wandless’?” Minerva asked.

“Oh, that sort of summoning spell I used in the library. It’s not an Accio. Don’t know what it is, precisely. One o’ me talents. Dead useful, too. Just wish I could shift larger objects, though – would have saved you having to Transfigure me favourite summer jacket into a redundant dinner jacket.”

“You just have to use Finite Incantatum, Quin,” Minerva said, rolling her eyes. “It may have reverted on its own by now, anyway.”

“Hmmph. Hadn’t done when I went to change for dinner. I had a hard time figurin’ out which one was me real dinner jacket,” he said with a grin. “Let’s walk a bit – it’s gettin’ crowded out here.”

Indeed, it was. Even the garden below them had a few people sitting beside small tables, drinking. Small lamps had begun to illuminate the veranda and the area below.

As they walked down the stairs, their little bubble of warm air accompanying them, they greeted people as they passed, and Minerva asked, “How many people are here tonight?”

“Not countin’ the kids, I think there are about fifty-five, fifty-six. There will be more tomorrow evening. At least a hundred, I’d reckon, possibly more. You haven’t seen the ballroom yet, but it’s quite grand, and there are smaller supper rooms off the balconies above it where guests who are peckish can eat whenever they feel the urge. There’ll be a dinner beforehand, of course. I don’t know if they will have it in the dining room – I can’t see how they can expand it any more than they did tonight without doin’ away with the staircase – they may have it in the ballroom and just banish the tables when the time comes.”

“Robert said something this afternoon that made me wonder if they do this every year.”

“Not on this scale, no. It’s generally just the closer family and a few friends. If they do have a party, it’s usually a one-night affair, not this on-going kind o’ thing. But they felt that since Hesper’s grandson was gettin’ married, they would make it a grander occasion.”

“You said family and friends . . . but what Robert said made me think that he’d been expecting the Headmaster to be here.”

“Yes, he usually does come. Last year he was very busy – he’d only become Headmaster six or seven months before. I imagine that it’s the same this year, especially since Gertrude’s his Deputy. Can’t leave the castle unguarded, after all!” he said with a smile. “O’ course, this year, the company is a bit less congenial than usual – your own self excepted, of course” – Quin sketched a bow – “and I’m sure that, in his position, he must get his fill of havin’ to associate with people not of his own choosin’, as it is, without havin’ to be surrounded by dozens of ’em while he’s on holiday.”

“Of course.” So Albus felt comfortable enough to spend several days every year at Gertrude’s family’s home. He hadn’t mentioned it. But then, what would he say? It would seem odd to just come out and announce it . . . but when she received her invitation, he could have said that he usually visited every summer, but wasn’t going this year. But maybe it wasn’t an annual thing – “usually” could mean different things to different people. But, but, but – she would drive herself mad. This was another example of what she was supposed to be avoiding. She and Albus were friends, and becoming better friends. It was still none of her business what he did with Gertrude or how he spent his free time. . . .

“You’ve gone all quiet on me, Minerva,” Quin said as they reached the rose garden. “Not that I’m complainin’, but y’aren’t angry with me about . . . anythin’, are you?”

“Hmm?” Minerva looked up at him. “No, no. Just tired. You know Albus well, yourself, then. I didn’t realise that from what you’d said.”

“No, not well. We’re not always here at the same time, for one. And I spend a lot o’ time with me kids, usually, and he spends time with . . . well, not with the kids! Sure he must get his fill o’ kids, too, workin’ at a school.”

“I think Albus genuinely likes children, Quin. And he’s a bit like you – he’s still something of a kid himself. In fact,” said Minerva, stopping and looking up at Quin, “you remind me of him.”

“Me? Remind you of the great Albus Dumbledore?” Quin laughed.

“Well, not exactly. It’s more that you make me think of what he might have been like had he been born in a different time and place and with different cares and responsibilities, that’s all I meant.”

“The poor wizard!” Quin chuckled. “But o’ course, it could be an indictment o’ me and the life I’m leadin’ – not savin’ the wizarding world from Dark Wizards or tryin’ to drag’em out o’ the Middle Ages, or at least out o’ the Victorian Age, kickin’ an’ screamin’ the whole way.”

“I don’t know, Quin, you seem to be trying to drag the wizarding world into a different business relationship with the Muggle world. That’s pretty heroic!” Minerva laughed. “But I didn’t mean to compare you that way – just temperamentally, that’s all. Neither of you suffer fools, although Albus is more gentle with them than you seem to be, and both of you like to see the lighter side of things.”

“You mean we both like to tease you, Minerva,” Quin said with a grin.

Minerva just laughed and shook her head. “It is a pity that he’s not here, though. It would have been fun to see the two of you together. And it would have given me another ally at the dinner table.” Then Minerva remembered the witch they would be allied against, and she sobered.

“Yes, I’m sure he would be amusin’ to have around this week, but . . . well, I don’t know . . . you haven’t said anything about it, Minerva, and I don’t want to be speakin’ out o’ turn, and if you don’t know, I shouldn’t say anythin’ at all . . . but you see, he and Valerianna, well, Valerianna and Dumbledore don’t get along, you might say.” Quin guided Minerva to a stone bench set amidst the roses.

“Mm. Gertrude mentioned something about it to me before I met her,” Minerva responded.

“Oh, good. I hoped she might have.”

“What do you know about why they don’t get along, Quin?” Minerva asked.

“Not much, really. Just that Dumbledore had been friends with her late husband during the war, and that a few years ago he was seen squiring her about, escortin’ her to all the big wizarding affairs, and then – poof! – the two weren’t seen together anymore, and if they were both at the same function, they avoided one another. Valerianna began makin’ general cutting remarks about him at around the same time, but Dumbledore is fairly well-liked by most people, and she found that her remarks were usually not well-received. It was all over and done with before I even knew there was anythin’ goin’ on. I’d seen’em together, o’ course, but hadn’t given it a thought, meself. I didn’t think it could be anythin’ serious – Dumbledore’s too shrewd to be taken in by the likes o’ her, or so I thought.”

Minerva was glad to hear that Quin hadn’t thought it had been anything serious. Not that it should matter to her whether Albus were to be in a serious relationship, but not with Valerianna. No, someone like . . . Ella, perhaps. She was very nice. Pleasant.

“Well, I hadn’t heard of it before, but I don’t move in the same circles as Valerianna does, either.”

“So you hadn’t heard o’ her before Gertrude mentioned her to you?”

“Not one word,” Minerva admitted. “But if this was about three years ago, and it was over and done as quickly as you say it was, that’s hardly a surprise.”

“No, but knowing you’re a teacher at Hogwarts – the Transfiguration Mistress, in fact – would make you a target for Valerianna’s more vicious comments, I’m sure.”

“Hmm. And no doubt she’s heard of me from some source – either Albus or Gertie. You remember that kitten remark she made?”

“Before dinner yesterday? Of course – ”

“Well, think back to the Challenge at Beauxbatons – I know it was a while ago, but do you remember one little trick I did?”

“I’m supposed to remember one trick out of all of them?”

Minerva laughed. “Let me refresh your memory, then.” There was a slight pop and then a Tabby cat sat beside Quin.

“That’s right! I am surprised I didn’t make the connection immediately.” Quin laughed. “It really must have stuck in her mind – I’d actually seen you do this before and hadn’t thought of it.” He looked at Minerva admiringly. “Um, may I pet you? That is, if it isn’t rude to even ask!”

Minerva just yawned and settled down, her eyes glowing in the moonlight as she gazed up at him.

“I take it that’s a ‘yes.’” Quin reached down and gently stroked her fur. “You really are a cat! I’m sorry, that must sound daft. I’ve just never met an Animagus before.”

Minerva jumped down from the bench, stretched, then transformed into her ordinary form.

Quin laughed. “That’s bloody marvellous! You must show Alroy! Well, you don’t have to, of course, but he would love it! He is something else when it comes to animals – plants, too, for that matter – and he’d love that trick. Can you teach him to do it?”

“Hold up, there, Quin!” Minerva smiled and placed her hand on the enthusiastic wizard’s shoulder. “I would be happy to demonstrate it to Alroy – but he should be discreet about it. I don’t generally show off at the drop of a hat for people, including my students; they’re more impressed when they don’t see it often. And I would also be happy to keep an eye on him while he’s at Hogwarts and see if he shows any signs that he might be able to achieve an Animagus form, but there’s a very good reason you’ve never met an Animagus before. It’s not only a lot of hard work to become one, but it also requires some measure of innate talent. If Alroy seems to have an interest in it, and it looks as though he might be both adept and dedicated, then I might consider teaching him once his magic is matured – and for good reasons that have nothing to do with burning out his magic, Quin. He really shouldn’t start before he’s at least fourteen or fifteen, preferably a bit later. He should also reach a level of physical maturity, as well. So don’t mention it to him and put any ideas in his head – and if he asks, just tell him what I told you.”

Quin stood and draped an arm around Minerva’s shoulders. “You are a wonder, Minerva.” He grinned at her. “Thanks for lookin’ out for me boy – and you will look out for him, won’t you? Even if he’s not in your House?”

Minerva put her arm around his waist and they began walking back up toward the house. “Of course I will, Quin. And I’ll let him know he can come see me if he wants to. I can’t and don’t play favourites, of course, but there’s no reason why I can’t look after him a bit. And I’d advise any students who came to me with a problem, regardless of their House.”

“Even if he’s in Slytherin?”

Minerva chuckled. “He’d probably feel more comfortable going to Gertrude in that case, but yes, even if he’s in Slytherin. But if he’s good with plants and animals, he may end up in Hufflepuff, since that House seems to attract that sort. Of course, the current Head of Ravenclaw is the Herbology teacher, and I used to believe that only Hufflepuffs were any good at Divination – then it turns out that your cousin was in Slytherin and Carson was in Ravenclaw. So he could end up anywhere. I just hope he’s happy.”

“Were you?”

“What?”

“Were you happy at school?”

“Yes, I suppose I was. I don’t know that my experience was typical, though . . . and there were some very atypical events whilst I was a student. Unhappy events. But I think Alroy could be happy at school. If he gives it a year and hates it . . . well, if he were utterly miserable, you wouldn’t have to make him go back. You could have him taught the way you were.”

They walked toward the veranda.

Quin shook his head. “No, I haven’t the time to do it proper, and there are fewer witches and wizards who’ll take a child to train these days, even in me own family. And to get him properly matched with the right ones . . . even if it hadn’t been Aileen’s express wish, I may have sent him to a school, anyway.”

The two entered through the small entrance at the foot of the veranda stairs, and Quin led her up through the house to the first floor and her bedroom.

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

LXX: Dinner and Divination, continued

“Would you like to come in for a bit?” Minerva blushed, realising how that must have sounded. “I mean to talk. Or we could go to the library.”

Quin smiled down at her. “I would love to come in and talk for a bit. We will need to make sure that no one catches me coming out at some odd hour, however – as Gertie has reminded me more than once, it’s not just me own reputation I need to be worrying about!”

“We’ll just have to make sure you leave at some even hour then; get in here now, before someone comes along,” Minerva said, tugging on his arm.

“I love it when witches pull me into their bedrooms,” he answered, smiling as he shut the door behind them and lit a few of the candles. “Do be gentle with me, please!” He held up his hands in mock surrender.

Minerva rolled her eyes. “Really, Quin! I’d thought we could continue our conversation, but if you’re going to behave like that . . .” She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the small settee with a groan. “It has been a long day.”

“It certainly has,” Quin agreed, taking a seat in the armchair next to her. “I hope that Gertrude doesn’t wake me that early tomorrow morning.”

“It sounds as though she sent the same house-elf to wake you as she did me. It was not a gentle awakening, especially opening your eyes and seeing that face.” Minerva faked a shudder.

“I know, and that voice! It sounded as though he’d swallowed a box o’ drawin’ pins, or somethin’.”

Minerva laughed. “I suppose it served us right for trying to make Gertie think you were seducing me.”

“She should have known better, though. I’m not that much of a scoundrel. I would have waited at least a day!” He grinned at her.

“I do hope you haven’t decided to start now. I am much too tired to properly appreciate any seduction.”

“No, I’d want to do it in the proper settin’.”

“A bedroom isn’t the proper setting for a seduction?” Minerva asked, curious.

“Oh, not at all. Not for the first one. No . . . and for you, it would have to be special. Perhaps a natural setting, something wild, though, not a garden. Someplace wild and romantic.” He smiled at her sleepily and reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

“I am definitely too tired to be seduced tonight, then. The thought of anything wild and romantic just sounds too exhausting.” Minerva laughed, then she looked into Quin’s bright blue eyes and wished for a moment that it was a different pair of blue eyes she was seeing, and a different wizard who was speaking to her of seduction. The thought sobered her, and she looked away.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, Quin, nothing.” She turned back and looked at him. “Just tired, that’s all. Say, I’ve done my trick for you, you do one for me now!”

“Well, I did feed the owl earlier – ”

“Yes, I suppose that was impressive, but it’s still your turn. I fixed your jacket for you yesterday, and then this evening I showed you my Animagus form. Do some of that natural wandless magic you were telling me about earlier.”

He smiled slightly. “All right, then. How about a little divination? I won’t do anythin’ elaborate, just somethin’ simple.”

Minerva laughed. “Don’t think you’ll convince me of anything, but that sounds fine. What do you need?” she asked, thinking of tea leaves and crystal balls.

“Nothin’, not for this. Just you.”

Minerva shrugged. “All right, then.”

“It would be better if I sat next to you on the couch.” He moved over to sit beside her and gazed into her eyes.

“Wait!” Minerva interrupted. “What kind of divination is this? What are you trying to do? Tell my future?”

“Perhaps. With this . . . I’m never sure what I will get. And I may not be successful. We may have to try again tomorrow with a few tools – a bowl of water might do.”

“Very odd sort of divination,” Minerva replied with a shrug. “But go ahead.”

“I’ve already started, or I would have, if you hadn’t interrupted me.”

“Sorry,” Minerva said.

“Mmm.” Quin looked into her eyes again.

“Wait!” Minerva interrupted again. “How do I know you’re not just doing Legilimency?”

“Well, other than the fact that you probably would be able to tell if I was tryin’ Legilimency on you, you don’t know it. Here, we’ll do it this way, then. You look away from me – you can even close your eyes – and I will take your hands.”

“Are you sure you are doing divination and not trying to seduce me?” Minerva asked with a smirk as she held out her hands to him.

“Believe me, if ’twere seducin’ you I was about, you wouldn’t keep interruptin’ me!” Quin said in mock irritation.

Properly chastised, Minerva closed her eyes and waited. She felt Quin’s hands warmly surrounding her own and the deep pulse of his magic. A ripple passed over her, then another. Minerva relaxed as Quin’s magic washed over her, and she let out a sigh.

“Just listen a moment, Minerva. Just listen,” Quin said quietly. “You are impatient by nature, yet you have spent so many years suppressing your impatience, trying to control it, that it now controls you more. That control can keep you from acting when you should act, and you mistake your instinct to act with your impatience, and so you rein yourself in when you should not.” Quin’s voice was soft and clear as he spoke, but Minerva heard nothing that she believed remarkable. Still, she bit back her comment to that effect and allowed him to continue.

“You have a source of great sadness and pain in your life, and yet . . . it is also the source of your greatest happiness. It could bring you even greater joy, but you restrain yourself from acting. There is someone . . . you have given your heart. Someone holds your heart. You pretend that he does not. He is the source of your sorrow and your joy. But you deny it. No . . . not now, in the past, but you still do not allow it in. You have committed yourself to him . . . but you do not act on that commitment. He holds your heart and you have given it to him . . . and it is replaced with a longing for your heart. You must reclaim your heart and give it to him openly, with no denial, or there will be only sadness and longing, and your joy will die. Do not let your joy die, Minerva. You love him. Let him know that he holds your heart. Let him love you.”

As Quin was speaking, Minerva had opened her eyes and turned toward him. She became increasingly disturbed. Carson had used similar words so many years ago. Who had been talking to Quin? How could he know anything? Was he playing with her? But Quin’s eyes were closed, his face relaxed, his voice calm, his hands warm, and his magic still flowed around her.

“And now I have disturbed you, I see.” Quin let go of her hands and opened his eyes, his magic draining back into him. “I am sorry, Minerva. I didn’t know it would be anything so personal. ’Tisn’t, usually . . . I normally see a few general character traits and then images of events and people that have shaped someone. This was unusual . . . but I think it came forth so strongly because ’tis important to you and has been preyin’ on your mind recently.”

“It’s hogwash,” Minerva said in a slightly shaky voice. “Just guesses and generalities.”

Quin looked at her a moment. “All right, Minerva. But if not, then I do listen well; I’m not just all blarney and flattery, you know. And I do not like to see such sadness in you.”

“I am not sad, not at all!” Minerva said sharply, turning from him.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Quin replied softly, taking her hand. “But if ever you are . . . I’d like to think we are friends. I am sorry if I have trod too close, but ’twas so strong – ’tis dominatin’ your life, Minerva, this sadness that you do not have, this emptiness that you do not feel, this longing that is not there.”

Minerva just closed her eyes and shook her head.

Quin sighed and squeezed her hand. “’Twas meant to be a lark, Minerva, and I am sorry if I added to your pain.”

“There is no pain,” Minerva responded in a low voice, her eyes closed.

“O’ course there’s not, love, o’ course there’s not.” Quin reached out and turned Minerva’s face toward him and brushed a single tear from her cheek. “You don’t need to talk about it. You don’t really know me, after all. But you should talk to someone . . . you bottle too much up.”

Minerva opened her eyes and saw only sympathy and concern in Quin’s face. “Oh, Quin, it’s no use. That’s all. It’s simply no use. If what you say is true . . . he does not feel the same, Quin, and he never will. It is quite hopeless.” With his warm hand still cupping her cheek, Minerva felt a sudden surge of relief at having finally admitted her feelings. She sighed and leaned into Quin’s touch, tears leaking from her eyes. He knew and he cared. She had wanted someone to talk to . . . but was he discreet? “You’re right, we don’t know each other well, but I’d like to think I can trust you. Please don’t tell anyone . . . .” Her voice broke.

“I’d never do that to you, Minerva,” he whispered. “Come here, now. No need to talk, if you don’t want. I’ve seen enough; it’s all right, love. If you’d like to say more, I’ll listen, though.”

Minerva accepted his invitation and leaned into his embrace. Her relief increased as she wept on his shoulder and he held her, rubbing her back and making soft soothing sounds in her ear.

“If you can bear another o’ me magic tricks tonight, I can help you a bit,” Quin offered after she had quieted. “Nothin’ grand, but me kids like it.”

Minerva turned her face from his shoulder and felt him kiss her forehead. A cool sensation washed over her, and she could feel her tears dry, and her heart and breathing calmed as the lump in her throat dissolved.

Minerva sat up and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Hmm? Whatever for? ’Tis what we’re on this earth for, isn’t it?” He smiled and touched her cheek. “Glad I could help. And remember my offer – if you want to talk . . .”

“Thank you, Quin, but I doubt it. I have lived with this for a while. I’ll survive.”

Quin nodded, but looked sceptical. “As you wish, Minerva. But even after you return to Hogwarts, I’m just an owl away, if you need to talk or even just want to get away for a while. I’m always happy to have lunch or dinner with a beautiful witch, and now that I know that I really am safe with you – does Gertrude know? Is that why she thought – ”

“No, she doesn’t. She couldn’t. We don’t know each other that well, as I said before.”

“Perhaps Dumbledore knows, and told her.”

“Impossible. I would rather not talk about this anymore tonight, Quin,” Minerva said, shaking her head.

“All right, love. We can move on to some other topic, then. Alroy, for example!” Quin grinned, and Minerva was happy to talk about one of Quin’s two favourite topics – his son and his daughter – and tell him about the Sorting and the Sorting Hat, and about the different Houses and their Founders. Quin knew quite a bit already, but he had a lot of questions, many of which Minerva found she couldn’t answer and had never considered herself.

Minerva smiled as she let him out of her room, checking the hall first for any other guests roaming about. “I now have some homework to do, thanks to you. I thought having read Hogwarts: A History had prepared me, but I see I need to do a little more research into the Founders and the Houses when I get back to the castle.”

“I’d like to visit some time. I’ve been to Hogsmeade many times, but have never seen anything more than the outside of the castle.”

“I’m sure we can arrange that. I’d love to show you around. And since school isn’t in session, I can probably even get you into the different House dormitories, as well, if the Heads of the Houses will allow it.”

“I’d like that, Minerva. And it will give me an excuse to see you again,” he said with a grin.

“Good-night, Quin, and thank you.”

“Good-night, Minerva, sleep well and sweet dreams.” Quin smiled down at her and gently kissed her cheek.

Minerva looked up at him and caressed his face before pulling him down and kissing his lips lightly. “See you tomorrow morning, Quin; sleep well,” she said softly, then closed the door.

And now she was wrapped in her dressing gown after a hot shower, drinking some honey-sweetened chamomile tea, and rereading Albus’s letter. She closed her eyes and remembered again how he had stepped toward her, taking her hand, placing another hand on her arm, then how he had leaned forward and kissed her. Minerva wished she had returned his kiss, that she had stepped closer to him, that he had embraced her . . . she imagined what it might have been like if he had moved his lips from her cheek to her mouth, how she would have dropped her bag and put her arms around him . . . . Minerva opened her eyes and sighed.

Albus cared for her. That pleased her, but it also contributed to the ache in her chest. It would always be only so much and no more, and she could never tell him how she felt about him, regardless of what Quin said about not letting her joy die and letting him know that she loved him. That could only bring greater sorrow, she was sure. Albus would withdraw from her and she would not even have the affection he currently showed her.

Minerva looked at his letter again. When she returned to Hogwarts, she would put it with the rest of his letters to her. She had kept every one that he’d written to her since she was in her fifth year; even before she had loved him, she had saved them. Of course, she had loved him then, but not in the way that she later came to. Minerva had even kept the little notes he left her that were scarcely more than a dozen words. Minerva had treasured the first one that he had ever signed with just “Albus.” She was still in school, it was the summer that she helped with the wards, and he had dashed off a quick note to ask her to meet him later than usual that day. No doubt, he had not thought about how he had signed the note, but to her adolescent mind, it meant that he saw her as something more than just a student, perhaps even as a friend. Of course, she had assiduously tried to tamp down those thoughts, but she had still found her mind turning to that one simple word at the end of an otherwise mundane note: “Albus.” Perhaps they could become friends eventually, she had thought wistfully. And when, the afternoon of her final Leaving Feast as a student, he had invited her again to address him by his first name, she had smiled and said, “Thank you, Albus, I would like that.”

And now they were finally becoming good friends. She would not spoil that by behaving like a hormonal teenager. She would accept the love he had to give her and make no demands on him, not even obliquely by telling him of the depth of her own feelings. And he wanted to spend time with her . . . . Minerva smiled as she reread his declaration that he would always seek an excuse to spend time with her. If only he knew that he required no excuse for her, that she would always want to spend time with him.

Minerva hopped up from the bed, sending her empty mug to sit on the night stand, and going over to the small desk to find a piece of parchment.

“10 July
“The Gamp Estate

“Dear Albus,

“Despite a long and tiring day, I am still awake at one in the morning, so I was drinking a nice cup of chamomile tea and thinking of you.”

Was that too forward? Too much information? Minerva reread it. It would be natural to think of him whilst she drank the tea he had given her. And she didn’t have to send the letter, after all, if she decided it was too revealing.

“I had your letter out and reread it – your friendly words were as soothing as the cup of tea, or more so. I must, however, correct a misapprehension on your part. It seems that you believe that you require an excuse to spend time with me, and I wish to reassure you that no excuse is necessary. I will always want to spend time with you, Albus. I do not know whether you are missing me as you had anticipated, but I have missed you, though that perhaps sounds foolish to you. It has been a very busy two days, but my thoughts turn to you repeatedly and I find myself wishing you were here with me.”

Minerva reread the paragraph and erased the words “with me.”

“It has been a very busy two days, but my thoughts turn to you repeatedly and I find myself wishing you were here.

“I have enjoyed the company of a few of the others here, however. Quin has been particularly good company, and I found that he had many questions about Hogwarts that I could not answer. I have some research to do!

“As you suggested, I am trying to get to know Gertrude better. I had no idea before this visit that she had been married, and even after learning that, it did not occur to me that she might have any children, so you may imagine that I was surprised to meet her son, Robert. He spoke of you fondly and expressed disappointment that you were not here. You see, Albus, you are missed!

“You must also know Ella, Gertrude’s sister-in-law. She seems very nice, although she is quiet, and Quin tends to dominate conversations when he is around, so I haven’t gotten to know her very well.”

Minerva paused. Should she mention Valerianna by name? It might make him uncomfortable; she would wait until she saw him, then she could judge his reactions better. And he may not want to be reminded of her; Minerva doubted his heart had been broken by the witch, but anything that could have brought about such a reaction on her part could not bring him any happy memories, not to mention that Quin had said that they obviously avoided one another whenever they attended the same events. Better to wait.

“There is a party tomorrow evening. Quin and I have decided to attend together as allies. Having someone else there to turn to in the case of an encounter with a particularly unpleasant witch or wizard will be reassuring for us both, I think.

“I hope that you are sleeping peacefully as I write this letter, and I think I can now go to sleep more easily, myself, for having written it.

“I am looking forward to seeing you Thursday, if you are at the castle when I return, and telling you all about my trip, as you suggested in your letter.

“Until then,

“Yours,

“Minerva”

Minerva wrote Albus’s name on the reverse side of the parchment and then reread her letter. She wouldn’t send it, she decided. Or only after rewriting it. It was far too familiar. But it had felt nice to write it, and to sign it as she had. After talking with Quin and writing her letter, she felt relaxed, content, and sleepy. She doused the lights and crawled into bed, holding her tartan afghan to her, and quickly fell asleep.

Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter – let me know what you think!

[muriel2532]

I really enjoyed your story up to the point where Minerva went to Cornwall. I'm just too much of an AD/MM shipper to see them separated for too long and I sincerely hope that her stay with Gertie will soon come to an end or else Albus will put in an appearance in Cornwall ...

[MMADfan]

muriel2532 said:

I really enjoyed your story up to the point where Minerva went to Cornwall. I'm just too much of an AD/MM shipper to see them separated for too long and I sincerely hope that her stay with Gertie will soon come to an end or else Albus will put in an appearance in Cornwall ...

Sorry! Hope you'll stick with it. The story would be quite different without this trip. In fact, there might be no story without it . . . . (does that statement intrigue anyone? ) You could always just skip the next few chapters, but then I think you'd be very confused later on! Maybe after RaM is finished, I'll write a one-shot . . . or maybe a PWP -- this story does tend toward the plot-heavy! ;D And I've been waiting to write this section since the very first chapter . . . . so it's not Disapparating any time soon! ;D

P.S. Didn't you like their letters to each other? They couldn't have written those without the trip, and you can be sure that Albus's letter enclosed with his package was far more open and expressive than anything he would have said to her in person. . . .

[Orion's Guard]

It's been a while since I reviewed, but I have been catching up these last few days. This is still physically exhausting for me to read (and I can't imagine what it's doing to you!) I caught one review thinking the story would end with a kiss and nothing else, and I thought that would be quite funny. Though now that I'm thinking about it, you've built the story up so much it's going to be hard for even the most romantic of get togethers to finish this off.

Anyway, I also have this feeling like Minerva is trapped at the Gamp estate (plot wise), though I am happy about the information we're getting.

[Gemmie Lou]

i still love this xxx

[MMADfan]

Notes: This chapter moves us closer to Minerva returning to Hogwarts; we also visit with Albus for a while.

LXXI: Lessons in Letter-Writing

Minerva awoke to the same gravely voice she had the morning before.

“Good-morning, Madam Professor! It is morning, Madam Professor!”

Minerva groaned and pulled her pillow over her head. She could still hear the house-elf’s voice rumbling on about something. She finally moved the pillow aside and said, “Tea, with milk.”

Minerva heard a crack as the elf Disapparated. She opened her eyes and Summoned her wand. Blinking, she cast a Tempus. Seven-thirty. Well, that was better than yesterday, Minerva supposed, but by the time she’d climbed into bed the night before, it had been almost two o’clock, and she would have liked another hour’s sleep. She stretched, remembering the previous night and the letter she had written to Albus. She should rewrite it, if she sent it at all . . . two letters in as many days was probably one too many. Just as she was thinking about her letter to Albus, she heard a rattling at her window. Minerva turned and squinted. An owl was sitting on on the window ledge tapping on the glass with its beak.

Minerva swung her legs out of bed and padded over to let in the owl and take the letter from it. Probably another letter from Poppy in response to the one she’d sent the day before. “Wait there, I’ve got biscuits somewhere here.”

The owl didn’t follow directions well and hopped into the room and settled on the little desk next to the window. Minerva returned with the little packet of ginger newts and broke off a piece for the bird. As she held it out, she looked down at the desk. Minerva stared. Her letter. It was gone. Minerva looked at the owl. It was nibbling the biscuit. The only letter in sight was the one in her hand. The letter she had written at one in the morning was gone.

“Gluffy!” Minerva yelled. “Gluffy! Now, Gluffy!”

Gluffy popped in, a small tea tray hovering above his head. He smiled his wide, toothy grin. “Yes, Madam Professor? Gluffy serves!”

“Gluffy, there was a letter on the desk this morning. Where is it?”

“Gluffy not know, Madam Professor. The owl has it somewhere in the air.” Gluffy continued to grin up at her, his pointy, bristly ears perking forward happily.

“The owl? What owl?”

“A Gamp Post Owl, Madam Professor. A nice strong Eagle Owl!” Gluffy seemed untroubled by Minerva’s growing agitation. “Gluffy chooses a good Owl for Madam Professor’s letter! And your tea. With milk!” Gluffy nodded vigorously at Minerva before disappearing with a loud pop.

Minerva sank into the chair, not caring that the owl beside her had helped himself to another biscuit and was getting crumbs everywhere. Damn! What had she said? At least she’d only been tired, not tipsy, she thought with a sigh. She knew she felt she’d been too open, but at least she hadn’t confessed her feelings to him, as Quin had suggested she should. Minerva took the packet of biscuits from the desk before the bird could eat another one and make himself sick, then looked down at the letter that she had gripped in her fist.

Minerva smoothed out the parchment. It was from Albus. Well, at least she knew it was in response to her previous letter, and not to the ill-advised one she had written that morning and that Gluffy had so helpfully posted.
_________________

Albus smiled as he watched Minerva Portkey off to the Gamp estate, then sighed after she disappeared. He was standing in Minerva’s bedroom, and it occurred to him that it would be impolite to tarry in her room now that she had left. He hadn’t been in it since he had first shown Minerva her quarters the previous December, though, and he looked around him. There were only a few indications of Minerva’s personality in this room, her hairbrush, hairpins in a small dish on the vanity, a colourful scarf draped over one corner of her mirror, a photograph of her parents and her three brothers on one side of the vanity, a picture of Melina and Murdoch on the other, and . . . a very small picture of him. Albus stared at it, then picked it up.

It was a photograph that had been cut from a Daily Prophet; he recognised it as one that had been taken shortly after he had defeated Grindelwald. He had been leaving a press conference at the Ministry and had been crossing the Atrium with a few other wizards and witches when flashbulbs had begun going off around them. Minerva had trimmed away most of the newspaper picture to create a portrait that showed only Albus’s head and shoulders. The view of his profile looked almost like a Muggle photograph, he moved so little, turning only slightly toward the camera before turning away again. Minerva had put the little picture in a tiny silver frame and placed a charm on it to make the paper sturdier. A warm feeling passed through Albus as he looked at the little photograph in its small frame. How very sweet of her . . . to have included his picture with those of her family. He swallowed. After all the time they had known each other, she had had to cut out a photograph from a newspaper. Of course, that would have been more than ten years ago, now, but there had been no other photograph to replace it since then.

Albus smiled wistfully. He had his own photographs of Minerva. He kept them in a drawer of the small desk in his quarters. The first one wasn’t really of Minerva; it had been taken at a Quidditch match her seventh year and showed the Gryffindor section of the stands. Minerva was rising up from her seat, cheering after a particularly daring catch by the Ravenclaw Seeker, who flashed through the picture, raising the Snitch in his hand and waving it toward Minerva. Carson, of course. Odd that he hadn’t realised until that terrible day in France that Carson and Minerva had been a couple. Of course, Carson and, later, Minerva, had denied it, but Minerva’s eyes sparkled in the photograph, and it was clear that the Ravenclaw’s flight across the Gryffindor stands had been more than an ordinary victory lap.

The second photograph of Minerva that Albus kept was one that had been taken at a Victory Ball after Grindelwald had been defeated. Albus had seen it when the photographer had come to him to get Albus’s approval for a photograph of himself to be included in a commemorative book that the Ministry was putting out. Albus wasn’t pleased with the idea of the commemorative book – at least as envisioned by the Ministry – but he could at least try to make sure that they didn’t use a ridiculous picture of him. The one of Sprangle made the man look like some kind of ancient Roman general; Dumbledore thought that such images were the sort of thing Grindelwald himself would have favoured. As Albus flipped through the photographs, the photographer pulled one out, saying it must have been incorrectly filed, but Albus had stopped him and looked at the picture. It had been taken from the far side of the ballroom; a pensieve expression on her face, Minerva was standing next to one of the French envoys and looking off across the room at something or someone who didn’t appear in the photograph. Alastor Moody, raising a glass to his lips, was on the other side of the foreign wizard, who was looking at Minerva, smiling, and saying something. A few other witches and wizards were standing off to one side, chatting. Minerva was the only figure in the photograph who did not appear to move at all, but Albus could detect a slight softening of her expression as a small smile appeared at the corners of her mouth and crinkled around her eyes. Albus assumed that the French wizard had said something to amuse Minerva, but she seemed so distracted, and he had always wondered what it had been she had been looking at and what had brought the small smile to her face.

The last picture in Albus’s desk drawer was one that had been taken just after Minerva had defeated Madame Feuilly in her Apprentice’s Challenge. It was the only colour photograph of the three, and Minerva was flushed and accepting the congratulations of several wizards as she turned toward Albus, who was standing off to one side, smiling with pride at her accomplishment. As Minerva turned, her polite smile became brilliant as she caught sight of Albus. He remembered that Minerva had been swept off by the French Minister for Magic and the Headmistress of Beauxbatons immediately after the photograph had been taken; for once, Albus had been forgotten and Minerva was in the limelight, which suited him just fine. Albus had seen Minerva later that day at the dinner the Ministry had held for he, and at which she had been unofficially bestowed the soubriquet “la grande dame de la Metamorphosis” by the French newspapers, and he’d been able to offer her his own warm congratulations. Albus smiled as he remembered how she had returned his embrace and whispered her thanks to him for all he had taught her. But then a few months later, she was offered an apprenticeship with an old wizard in Heidelberg, and that began the longest period during which they had not seen each other, even for a quick lunch or cup of tea.

After informing Albus of the offer, and this time asking his opinion of it before accepting it – Albus had warned her that the Master, Herr Magister Gerhardt Sachs, was unpopular because he had escaped Grindelwald and then disappeared without lending his assistance to the Resistance, but was nonetheless a highly competent Master of Transfiguration – Minerva left for the Continent, first studying German to improve her facility with the language, and then spending the next year at her apprenticeship. Albus hadn’t seen her in more than a year when she had showed up at Hogwarts the first week of October to tell him that she was back and would be taking up a new job at the Ministry in November. Remembering that her birthday was in early October, Albus had convinced Minerva to stay for the afternoon so that he could take her out to dinner to celebrate both her Mastery and her birthday. He had always wished he had brought her someplace nicer than the Leaky Cauldron, but Minerva had seemed pleased, and they had forgotten their surroundings as they had talked and she had told him about her time in Germany. Albus asked her about the wizard she had often mentioned in her correspondence, a Rudolf Brauer, but Minerva didn’t revealed very much. From her letters, Albus had the idea that she had been romantically involved with the German Apothecary, but Minerva said she had no plans to visit him, and that, as Rudolf’s shop was in Heidelberg and it was difficult for him to get away, it was unlikely they would see each other any time soon. She had brushed off Albus’s suggestion that distance was no obstacle to a relationship if they worked at it, looking at him strangely and saying that she was sure that her life in London would keep her very busy.

Albus replaced the small photograph on Minerva’s vanity and went into her sitting room to look at the books on her shelves. He selected two Muggle novels, choosing ones by authors he was unfamiliar with. Albus looked around him before he left. Blampa had already cleared away their breakfast dishes, and the room felt very empty without Minerva there. Feeling somewhat melancholy, Albus stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him. He smiled slightly and whispered, “Alvarium album.” The door clicked and he pulled it open before closing it again. Humming, he set off for his office and a long day of paperwork and Floo-Calls with Ministry officials.

The next morning as Albus ate his solitary breakfast in his rooms, he remembered the pleasant breakfast with Minerva the day before, and he wondered whether she had opened his present the night before, and whether she had enjoyed it or had thought it was silly. Albus had been second-guessing himself since he had left her rooms, particularly having kissed her before she Portkeyed to the Gamps. She hadn’t seemed displeased or offended, only slightly surprised. Albus sighed. He could make all kinds of promises to himself, but the fact of the matter was that he found it difficult to be around Minerva and not demonstrate his affection toward her. It would probably be best if he always arranged to see her in public; that was the only way he could be sure of not stepping over the line he had drawn for himself. Albus also regretted the openness he had exhibited in his letter to her. From now on, he would not send her any letters without rereading them and waiting at least a few hours before sending them off. He hadn’t made Minerva uncomfortable yet, but he was sure it was only a matter of time before he displayed some behaviour that either triggered her disgust or her pity. More likely her pity, given her fondness for him. But it would have to be tinged with disgust . . . he knew that he was very old and far from attractive. Pity or disgust, he could not risk it. He did not want to cause her discomfort, let alone lose her friendship. And she clearly valued their friendship, as well. Albus smiled as he remembered the tiny photograph she kept of him next to those of her family. He would have to play the role of the genial uncle, then, as difficult as that might be, and not behave like a pathetic old man.

Albus dressed and went to his office to begin another day. It was a morning like any other, but after having spent so much time with Minerva over the last few days, he felt an uncharacteristic sense of ennui. It seemed that without Minerva in the castle, he had little to look forward to that day, especially since Gertie – and most of the rest of the staff – was also gone. It was ridiculous, really. He had lived and worked at Hogwarts quite happily for almost twenty years. Twenty very busy years. Most of them without Minerva there . . . today should be no different from any of those previous perfectly happy days. Albus set down to work, dismissing all of his foolish thoughts and cares and finding that his mood improved as the morning progressed and he cleared his desk of the correspondence that had piled up.

Just before lunch, Albus opened a window to let in three owls, one after the other, bringing him more work from the Ministry, then he let in a fourth owl, carrying a letter from Garbhan Govannon, no doubt a thank-you for his assistance the week before. Albus smiled, thinking that if it hadn’t been for Garbhan’s mishap, he might not have inadvertently insulted Minerva, and then never overheard her conversation with Poppy, and thus not had the last few lovely days with her. He should write his own letter of thanks to Garbhan! Albus was chuckling and in the process of closing the window when a large Eagle Owl swooped out of the sky. As it landed on the sill, Albus saw the yellow band on its leg and knew it to be a Gamp Post Owl. After giving each owl a few treats from Fawkes’s supply, Albus sat down in one of the armchairs next to the fireplace and opened Minerva’s letter.

Albus smiled. She had written it that morning to thank him for his little present. It didn’t seem that she thought it was silly or foolish at all. He reread the letter more slowly, pausing to savour it. So Minerva had not thought his letter overly sentimental . . . she missed him, as well. Of course, she could have said that out of politeness, but Albus didn’t think so. He smiled happily as he reread the lines, “if I may make a confession of my own, as I stood there prepared to Portkey away, all I wanted to do was stay and spend the day with you. I hope you forgive my own sentimentality.” Of course he would – gratefully!

As he reread the rest of the letter, Albus got the sense that Minerva was not having a very good time. He wondered if anyone was giving her a particularly difficult time, and he froze, thinking of one witch who might, as improbable as it seemed to him, also be a guest of the Gamps that week. If she were there, Minerva might be in for a difficult time, indeed. But surely Gertrude would take care of her, keep them apart. Albus didn’t think that he’d ever mentioned that brief and ill-fated relationship to Minerva; whilst he was seeing her, he had been inexplicably reluctant to mention it to Minerva, and afterward, well, there was no question that he wouldn’t mention it to her. Why would he? Merely to embarrass himself more? But if she were there . . . . no, she wouldn’t say anything to Minerva. It would only embarrass her, after all. The witch might be quite nasty, nonetheless.

Albus sighed and looked at the letter again. Minerva seemed to be spending time with Quin. Albus didn’t know him well, but knew that Gertie thought highly of him, and what contact he had had with the young wizard had always been favourable. He certainly was devoted to his children. That must be why Gertrude had invited Minerva down for a visit. To meet Quin. A little matchmaking. Albus fought the sadness that began to settle in his stomach. Quin was a fine young wizard. And he couldn’t fault Gertrude for trying to encourage the two of them to get to know each other. They would have beautiful children. . . . Albus swallowed. This was ridiculous; he had them married with children, and they’d only just met! And besides, it would be good if Minerva found someone . . . a good wizard. He had the impression that she hadn’t seen anyone seriously in several years, at least, if he was even correct about believing she’d had a relationship with the German Apothecary. Perhaps her heart had been broken when Carson died – although she denied it – and she hadn’t been able to develop a relationship with anyone since.

As he sat and gazed at Minerva’s letter, Albus determined that he would do all that he could in order to see Minerva happy. Quin could be quite a catch. He was intelligent, talented, very well-off financially, both in the wizarding and Muggle worlds, and he had been devoted to his wife when she’d been alive, and he was a good father – not to mention that he was very good-looking and charming, as well. Eminently suited for his Minerva. Well, she wasn’t his Minerva, but there was no question that Quin could be a very good match for her. He would do all he could to encourage a relationship between them. Of course, he would have to be careful and not be too obvious about it. But if Gertrude was working on Quin, he could work on Minerva . . . subtly. And he would be happy about it. Yes, he would be happy about it.

Albus called Wilspy and asked her to bring him a sandwich and some tea. He would take dinner in the staffroom with the few who were still in the castle, but he wanted to respond to Minerva’s letter, and he sat at his desk and began writing. That evening after dinner, Albus put the finishing touches on the third draft of his letter, then put it away in the small desk in his quarters, deciding to reread it before posting it in the morning.

He slept poorly that night, finding it difficult to fall asleep, then waking up at one o’clock, thinking of Minerva. Albus called Wilspy to have her bring him a cup of chamomile tea and went out onto the roof of his tower to look out over the castle’s grounds. Conjuring a flowered armchair, he settled down and looked off to the south, wondering what Minerva was doing at that moment. Sleeping, no doubt, as all sensible witches and wizards did at that hour. The chilly fresh air and the chamomile tea drove him back to his bedroom and under his covers, and he fell into a restless sleep, with dreams of Minerva and Valerianna, himself looking on helplessly as Valerianna taunted Minerva . . . it was odd, but he could hear Valerianna’s voice, yet he could not comprehend a word that she said. Then Minerva turned to him, crying, telling Albus it was all his fault, that everything was his fault, and, as is the way in dreams, suddenly Valerianna was no longer there, but Quin was, and the young wizard took Minerva into his arms and looked at Albus, shaking his head at him, as though disappointed. Albus forced himself awake from the dream. It was only four-thirty in the morning, and he was covered in sweat. Clearly, he had been spending too much time thinking about Minerva. Of course, thinking of Valerianna the previous evening was not conducive to a good night’s sleep, either.

Albus got out of bed and stretched stiffly, remembering his letter to Minerva. He was unsure now whether he should send her any letter at all. But he did not want to offend her, and her own letter had been so sweet. Wilspy brought him a strong blend of tea, and he put on his dressing gown and brought his tea with him out to the small study off his sitting room. He took out the letter he had finished the night before and reread it. He promptly tore it up before banishing the pieces. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and wrote a letter, sealing and addressing it without rereading it, then he called Wilspy and asked her to post it for him – without delay. There was such a thing as being too careful, after all.

Notes: Hope you enjoyed the glimpse into Albus's days at Hogwarts while Minerva's away!

[Hogwarts Duo]

MEGA-HUGS TO YOU for updating so much today!!! I do believe you deserve several pats on the back for giving us so much juicy stuff to read...wheee.

Now where to start...at the beginning is probably best...

The dinner where Minerva is seated across from Valerianna must have been sheer torture for her yet she presented herself with class and dignity, though it did take a little help from Quin to do it. A proper cat fight would have been priceless but I'm still holding out hope that Valerianna will get her just desserts and soon. She's such a nasty piece of work and it makes me wonder what in the world Albus thought he was doing in getting mixed up with the likes of her...shudders. To think that even on some minute level he associated Valerianna's looks with Minerva's and then proceeded into a romance gives me the willies...ewwww. He should have known better...the daft old codger.

Quin is another matter for consideration. He is still mysterious enough to be dangerous in his own charming little way. I do like his character but he makes me so nervous with his familiarity with Minerva. It's like he's charming her to bits and slowing easing her away from Albus, though he says that's not his intention. And then he goes and does something truly wonderful like stopping her from embarassing herself and others at the dinner then giving her a divination reading.

Oh yes...the reading...I could absolutely hug Quin at this point for telling Minerva exactly what she needed to hear through probably didn't want to hear at that moment. I found him very insightful and it was interesting to see that Carson had used similar words or made a similar statement (can't remember how you phrased it so please forgive). If two people in the same family can come up with the same conclusions at different times and places, surely Minerva has to believe they're speaking truths and she needs to heed their advice. Oh if only....haha.

The letters were wonderful. I'm so happy Gluffy took the initiative and posted the letter to Albus. It was so sweet and revealing in some ways. Now if only Albus will read between the lines a bit and pick up on her little hints, the world will be right again. His nightmare was truly horrible for him and I felt sorry he had to go through all of that but maybe that was his conscious telling him a few things his rational mind didn't want to recognize! Maybe next time he'll tell Minerva all she needs to know before she takes off on a holiday with the Gamp...well Gertie . Wish Minerva had been at Hogwarts to keep him company as he stayed up half the night...tee hee. Now, I can't wait to see what his hastily written reply to her happened to be. It's sure to be interesting.

I think my favorite part of this update has to be the photographs. The idea of Minerva having one sitting with her family was very touching yet sad to know that she had to cut it out of the paper just to have a photo of him...sniff sniff. The pictures that Albus has of Minerva though...now those are some telling photographs for several reasons. He has pictures of her in his drawer...awww...but they also show us glimpses into her past and how their paths have crossed over the years. You do so love to weave a compelling story and hopefully we'll get to see more photographs featuring both Albus and Minerva TOGETHER!!

You'll have to update soon because this is getting sooooooo good and intriguing. It's an addiction you know. The more you write, the more I want to know what's going to happen and how all these people (though good or bad intentions) somehow manage to get Albus and Minerva together....wheeeeeee.

Cheers,
Ang the GLM ;D

[MMADfan]

Notes: This is posted in two parts.

Part LXXII: Games at the Gamps

Minerva glanced at her waiting tea, then unsealed the letter from Albus. She smiled as she saw his familiar handwriting. He’d written this one quickly, it appeared, that very morning. Well, it wasn’t as though she laboured terribly over her own letters to him. . . . She only agonised about them after the fact. Particularly letters that weren’t supposed to be sent in the first place.

“Wednesday, 10 July 1957

“Dear Minerva,

“I was very pleased to receive your letter yesterday and was glad to hear that my present was welcome and useful, although I detected that you may not be enjoying yourself as much as you might. I know Quin MacAirt slightly, through my acquaintance with Gertie, and I think he should be very agreeable company for you. I hope you have been able to spend more time with him. He seems to be a very talented and decent wizard, and worthy of your company. Gertie has always spoken very highly of him, and I know that he dotes on his children.

“You have not mentioned any other new acquaintances by name, but it occurred to me that one particular witch, a widow of a friend of mine, might also be there. Although her husband and I were friends, his widow and I have since had a parting of the ways. I do not know if she is in attendance at the Gamps’ house-party, but if she is, I imagine that she might find reason to be less than pleasant to you. Hopefully, she will remain civil, but if she does not, I hope that you remain unbothered by her.

“I have missed you, Minerva, but I hope that you are enjoying yourself and spending time with some of the young people there, especially Quin. Please extend my greetings to him – and to Gertie and her parents, of course.

“Take care and have fun! I am looking forward to seeing you when you return tomorrow.

“Yours,

“Albus”

Minerva poured her tea and added some milk before rereading the letter. Well, he must be speaking of Valerianna. The fact that he had left the witch unnamed and had only said that they had “a parting of the ways” certainly indicated a reluctance on his part to tell her anything about their relationship. Of course, it would be rather awkward to do in a letter, not to mention that he didn’t even know whether the vile witch was there or not. It was nice of him to say something about it, nonetheless.

She sighed as she folded the letter and finished her tea. It hadn’t been as warm as his previous letter, but he had said he was looking forward to seeing her. And he seemed to like Quin, which was nice to know.

Minerva got up and put the letter in her carpet bag with the others, then dressed in her saffron-and-raspberry robes. It was good that today was Wednesday and the ball was tonight. She was running out of robes she hadn’t been seen in yet. She would wear this one for the day and change for the party before dinner.

After dressing, Minerva went downstairs, heading toward the veranda where she had breakfasted the previous two days. There were several people there, including Quin, who was leaning against the rail watching the house. He straightened when he saw her and smiled, meeting her halfway across the veranda.

“Good-mornin’, love! I thought we might take our breakfast elsewhere this morning . . . and may I say that you look beautiful today!”

“Thank you, you look nice, yourself.” Quin was “wearing Muggle” again, in a crisp white shirt open at the neck, a navy blue double-breasted blazer, and grey flannel trousers. “Where did you have in mind?”

“Gertie has set up a table down in the rose garden. I thought we could join her. Unless you’d prefer to, um, mingle,” he added in a low voice, looking around them at the various Blacks, Flints, and Yaxleys.

“I think I had enough mingling yesterday during dinner, thank you,” she answered, taking his arm and starting down the stairs. “I do feel as if I’ve been monopolising you, though, Quin. I’m sorry. You needn’t feel you have to spend time with me, you know. I’m a big girl.”

“I was just thinkin’ about you . . . after last night. Hopin’ you slept well,” he said, looking toward the hill fort rising up in the northwest.

“Thank you . . . I’m fine, though. You didn’t need to wait for me.”

“Mmm, I was the reason for your upset, though, Minerva,” he said softly as they walked into the rose garden.

“No, no, you weren’t. Let’s not talk about it now, Quin,” she answered as they turned a corner and found Gertie sitting at a small table, drinking coffee.

Gertrude looked up and nodded at the two. “Good-morning, Minerva, Quin.”

Minerva sat in the chair that Quin pulled out for her. “Good-morning, Gertrude.”

“Sleep well?” Gertie asked Minerva as Quin gave her a quick peck on the cheek before he sat on her other side.

“Fairly well,” Minerva replied. “But you have one annoyingly efficient house-elf.”


“Gluffy? I find that he is usually quite good at getting me moving in the morning,” Gertie answered.

“Mmm. However, I have a word of advice for both of you,” Minerva said as she accepted a cup of tea from Quin, then paused to take a sip. “Never cover your head with a pillow when a house-elf is talking.”

Quin raised an eyebrow and Gertie looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

“Your very efficient house-elf was rumbling on about something while I had my head covered with my pillow. When I got up, I discovered he had posted a letter that I hadn’t finished yet. I actually hadn’t even decided whether to send it at all.” Minerva sighed and shook her head ruefully.

“I hope it wasn’t anything that could have negative repercussions for you, Minerva. I will speak with Gluffy about owling guests’ letters without their permission,” Gertrude said seriously.

Quin furrowed his brow. “Nothin’ . . . indiscreet in the letter, I hope.”

“No, no, just unfinished.” Minerva shook her head. “But speaking of letters, I had an owl from Albus this morning. He sends his greetings to both of you – and to your parents, Gertrude.”

“I owe him a letter, I’m afraid,” Gertrude said. “It’s been difficult this week, with all of the guests, to have more than a few minutes to sit and think. When you see him tomorrow, let him know that I will write him soon. Most of the guests should be gone by the weekend, except close family, so I’ll have more time then.”

Minerva agreed, saying she certainly understood the constraints on her time, and no doubt Albus would, too. Breakfast appeared on the table, and the three moved on to other topics.

-/-/-/-

Albus put the finishing touches on some changes he wanted made to the wand-use laws; he had little hope that they would actually be approved, but if he introduced them often enough, eventually some of them might be adopted. He stretched; he would need a nap after lunch, he thought. After the restless night he’d had, and his very early rising, Albus felt as though the day should be half over, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. A walk on the grounds would pick him up a bit, he thought.

It was a beautiful morning; the air was still cool, but the sun was warm, and as he wandered along the edge of the lake, Albus wished that Minerva were there to enjoy it with him. The sunlight glinted off the water as it rippled beneath the light breeze, and Albus conjured a chair and sat and looked out across the lake. He was glad he had answered Minerva’s letter, and glad, too, that he had made mention of Valerianna, if not by name. It wasn’t as warm as his first draft had been yesterday, but he thought it struck a better balance between collegiality and friendliness than his final draft had done. That version, which he had torn up and banished, had seemed positively cold when he’d reread it in the morning, and, of course, it had held no mention of Valerianna, either.

Valerianna Yaxley. He had scarcely spared her two seconds of thought over the last couple of years, but in the last few days, he had been reminded of her several times, and it was uncomfortable. Probably just as well, however. It might help him to remember to behave himself around Minerva and not act like an old fool. He hadn’t been in love with Valerianna, but he had thought he was growing fond of her. And it had been so many years since he had spent so much time in the company of one witch . . . . Albus shook himself. There was no point in thinking about it now, not this long after it was over.

Albus gazed unseeing out across the lake, thinking instead of another witch, one of whom he was more than just fond, when the screeching of an enormous Eagle Owl interrupted his reverie. It landed with dramatic flair on a large rock a few yards from him and preened before finishing its journey and flapping over to the arm of his chair. Albus detached the letter that was fastened to the owl’s leg. Another Gamp Owl. And another letter from Minerva. He furrowed his brow. She couldn’t have received his letter and responded to it so soon, could she have? Albus fished a peppermint pillow from one of his pockets and gave it to the owl, who scorned it and took off for the Hogwarts Owlery in search of something more satisfactory. Albus paid the indignant bird no heed, however, as he opened the letter and read it.

“10 July
“The Gamp Estate

“Dear Albus,

“Despite a long and tiring day, I am still awake at one in the morning, so I was drinking a nice cup of chamomile tea and thinking of you.”

“I had your letter out and reread it – your friendly words were as soothing as the cup of tea, or more so. I must, however, correct a misapprehension on your part. It seems that you believe that you require an excuse to spend time with me, and I wish to reassure you that no excuse is necessary. I will always want to spend time with you, Albus. I do not know whether you are missing me as you had anticipated, but I have missed you, though that perhaps sounds foolish to you. It has been a very busy two days, but my thoughts turn to you repeatedly and I find myself wishing you were here.

“I have enjoyed the company of a few of the others here, however. Quin has been particularly good company, and I found that he had many questions about Hogwarts that I could not answer. I have some research to do!

“As you suggested, I am trying to get to know Gertrude better. I had no idea before this visit that she had been married, and even after learning that, it did not occur to me that she might have any children, so you may imagine that I was surprised to meet her son, Robert. He spoke of you fondly and expressed disappointment that you were not here. You see, Albus, you are missed!

“You must also know Ella, Gertrude’s sister-in-law. She seems very nice, although she is quiet, and Quin tends to dominate conversations when he is around, so I haven’t gotten to know her very well.

“There is a party tomorrow evening. Quin and I have decided to attend together as allies. Having someone else there to turn to in the case of an encounter with a particularly unpleasant witch or wizard will be reassuring for us both, I think.

“I hope that you are sleeping peacefully as I write this letter, and I think I can now go to sleep more easily, myself, for having written it.

“I am looking forward to seeing you Thursday, if you are at the castle when I return, and telling you all about my trip, as you suggested in your letter.

“Until then,
“Yours,

“Minerva”

Albus realised that as he had been sitting on the roof of his tower drinking his chamomile tea, Minerva had been writing this letter to him, also drinking a cup of chamomile tea. As he reached the second paragraph, he inexplicably got a lump in his throat. Minerva wished to spend time with him and she missed him. He thought of his own rather distant letter and wished he had been just a bit more expressive in it. But he would see her tomorrow. He couldn’t write her another letter . . . but she was rereading his first one. Perhaps she would welcome just one more short note. One of encouragement, perhaps. She was attending the party with Quin. As allies, she said. That might give them a chance to get to know one another better. It must be what Gertie had in mind when she had invited Minerva there, after all. He might even encourage her to stay another day or two, get to know Quin better. She had said that she was looking forward to seeing him on Thursday, but she shouldn’t feel obligated to return then if she wished to stay. . . .

Albus rose and banished the chair and headed back to his office to write one last note to Minerva. As he climbed the many stairs to his tower, Albus grew warm thinking of her words. She always wanted to spend time with him. Her thoughts turned to him, and she wished he were there. Albus smiled. Although he would encourage her to enjoy her time with Quin, he would have to express his appreciation for her, as well. He didn’t want to neglect her as he had done before; it still caused him pain to remember her words to Poppy, but not because of any insult to him, but because it reminded him of the hurt he had caused her. And after all of these years and all that they had been through together, Minerva had every right to expect more of his friendship than he had given her during her first months at Hogwarts. It was time that would never return, and she would never again have a “first term” as a teacher. He should have spent more time with her then, both as a friend and as Headmaster.

They did have a nice time when they were together . . . better than “nice,” from his perspective, Albus thought, remembering their recent meals together and their outing to London, and Minerva seemed to value it, as well. But he would have to make sure that she did not feel obligated to spend time with him and that he did not monopolise her when she could be getting to know other wizards, such as Quin.

-/-/-/-

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post. (I've posted three chapters today, so make sure you get to all of them! You could be somewhat confused later, otherwise. ;D)

Part LXXII: Games at the Gamps, continued

Minerva was surprised when, just as they were finishing breakfast, a small Scops Owl flew up and politely settled on the edge of their table, hooted softly, and bobbed its head. There were two letters attached to its leg, and when Quin reached over to remove them, the little fellow hopped over to Gertrude.

“Well, snubbed by an owl! See if you get any o’ me bacon, you little urchin!” Quin said with a smile.

“You haven’t any bacon left, Quin,” Minerva told him.

“I have a bit o’ toast I’d have shared, though,” he grumbled jokingly.

Meanwhile, Gertrude had taken the letters from the owl and fed it a bit of bread and cheese. She handed Minerva one of the letters. Minerva raised her eyebrows. From Poppy. She looked over at Gertrude, who had glanced at the letter then put it in the pocket of her sea-green robes. Minerva, despite her curiosity, did likewise.

The remains of their breakfast vanished from the table, leaving a fresh pot of tea and another small one of coffee. Minerva poured herself a third cup of tea and offered some to Quin.

“Ta, Minerva, but I think I’ll go see if me kids are survivin’ Bella. She’s a holy terror, that one – or an unholy terror – for all she appears quiet when she’s around adults. But meet me on the veranda in an hour – you, too, Gertie. Robert and I have some plans that require your participation!” Quin rubbed his hands in anticipation.

“What have you got in mind, Quin?” asked Gertie suspiciously.

“Just show up, Gertie, an’ you’ll see!” With that, Quin stood and took his leave, bending first to kiss Minerva’s cheek.

After he had disappeared behind a hedge, Gertie said, “Well, it does seem that you and Quin are getting along well.”

“Yes, we are. He is fun . . . and easy to talk to.” Minerva felt slightly uncomfortable under the older witch’s sharp gaze.

“I’m glad. It is good to see Quin enjoying himself.”

Minerva had the feeling that Gertrude had been going to add something else, but when she didn’t Minerva finished her tea in a few swallows, and excused herself from the table. “I think I’ll go up to the house now, myself, Gertrude. I may pay a visit to the library before whatever it is that Quin has planned.”

Gertrude nodded, then said, “If I were you, and knowing Quin and Robert, I would change my robes.”

Minerva’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”

“They usually arrange some kind of vigorous activity one morning. I fear that you have been caught up in their plans, Minerva. You don’t need to participate, of course.”

“Oh, well, perhaps it’s best to be prepared, however. How like a man not to mention appropriate clothing, though! Thanks for the warning, Gertrude!”

Minerva headed back up to the house and her bedroom. As soon as she closed the door, she pulled Poppy’s letter from her pocket. She had been surprised to see that Poppy must have also written to Gertrude; she hadn’t had the impression that they were particular friends, although Poppy probably knew her better, since she’d been at Hogwarts longer than Minerva had.

“10 July

“Dear Minerva,

“I’m glad to hear that you are surviving V. Now that I know that Gertrude spoke with you, I feel reassured. I’m sorry if I sounded a bit hysterical yesterday. It doesn’t sound as though V. has been anything but ordinarily obnoxious.

“I am intrigued by this Quin. You sound rather taken with him – I know, I know, I’m not supposed to be getting any ideas, and I’m not, really. It’s just been a while since you last wrote so fondly of any wizard but Albus, that’s all.

“It would be nice to see you soon. I will be visiting my grandmother in Leeds after leaving Violet’s, and then I’m going to London to visit some of my friends from St. Mungo’s. Would you like to come for a visit tomorrow? I’m sure you’re looking forward to some time to yourself after being at the Gamps, but perhaps you could just come for lunch, or for tea. You could Floo to the Hag’s Hump – it’s just a short walk from my sister’s house – and we could meet there. You’re welcome to stay a couple days, though – Violet said she’d enjoy seeing you again.

“Enjoy the ball tonight. I know you like dancing, and there are precious few opportunities for that when one’s on the staff at Hogwarts! Perhaps you could speak with Albus about creating a few more opportunities for you!

“I hope to see you tomorrow, Minerva.

“Best,

“Poppy”

Minerva quickly pulled out a piece of parchment and composed a note to her friend.

“10 July

“Dear Poppy,

“I’d love to come by tomorrow for a brief visit. As much as I appreciate Violet’s invitation, I think I will pass. I think I need a few days to recover after this!

“I am fond of Quin, as you would be if you met him, Poppy, and it’s nice to have a new friend, but please do not read any more into it. You are worse than my mother sometimes!

“If it doesn’t pose a problem for you or Violet, I’d like to leave open my arrival time. I want to get back to Hogwarts first. Could I arrive sometime between noon and three o’clock? I know where Violet’s house is, I think, and if I get confused, I’m sure they can direct me at the Hag’s Hump. If I don’t hear from you otherwise, I will assume that this is all right with you both.

“I’m sure I will enjoy at least some aspects of the party tonight, and I will dance with any wizard who can keep his hands in the proper places and avoid drooling on me! (Quin says I’m to “save him from the drooling old hags,” so I am hoping he will return the favour if someone gets too fresh, clingy, or drooly!)

“See you tomorrow,

“Minerva”

Minerva quickly folded and addressed the letter, then pulled off her dress and changed into her pale blue robe, which was plain cotton with long sleeves, and its matching sleeveless overrobe. She could always use a Cooling Charm if she became too warm. Pulling on her dragonhide boots and charming them to match her dress, Minerva wondered what activity Quin and Robert had planned. Robert had struck her as being very quiet, the little she had seen of him yesterday afternoon and at dinner. But Quin was quite the opposite. He had suggested a “clamber” to Robert; perhaps he was bringing them all on a hike. She wouldn’t mind getting a closer look at some of the menhirs and discern whether they were laid out in any sort of pattern. Gertie could probably tell her more about them, but it would be more fun to see if she could see a pattern for herself.

“Gluffy!” Minerva called, deciding that if the elf could post a letter he wasn’t supposed to, he could post one that should be sent.

Gluffy popped in promptly, wide, toothy grin plastered to his jowly, purplish-grey face. “Yes, Madam Professor? Gluffy serves!”

“Yes, Gluffy, I have a letter that needs to be posted to Wales.” She held it out to the old house-elf.

Gluffy’s grin wavered slightly, but then he took the letter and bowed. It was the first time he had bowed to her, and Minerva found she didn’t like it, though she should be used to it from house-elves.

“By the way, Gluffy, I wish to apologise to you – ”

Gluffy turned greyer. “Oh, no, Madam Professor – ”

“Yes, I do. And you will let me.” The house-elf, grin completely faded, looked up at her, listening obediently. “I left out a letter last night. This morning you owled it for me. I assume you were telling me that you were doing that whilst I had my head covered with my pillow.” The squat little fellow nodded. “I wish to apologise for blaming you. It should have occurred to me to put the letter away last night, and I should have listened to you when you were speaking to me. Of course, it would have been a good idea if you had made absolutely certain that I wanted it sent first, but I am sorry if I got you into trouble with your mistress.”

Gluffy gave a small smile. “Madam Gamp is a good mistress. Madam Gamp is telling Gluffy not to post guests’ letters without guests asking to. Gluffy not in big trouble, Madam Professor. Only a little trouble.”

“Good, then. Thank you for posting this letter, then!” Minerva smiled down at the elf, whose natural colour had returned.

“Gluffy happy to serve, Madam Professor!” He grinned at her before winking out of the room with the letter.

Well, a Gamp house-elf who didn’t cringe when thanked. He couldn’t be the one that Quin had bribed that first day. Quin . . . so much had happened, it was hard to believe she had only been here two days, that she had only known Quin such a short time. And after what he had said last night, Minerva felt even closer to him. How had he known? She had definitely felt Quin’s magic flowing over her. It must be some sort of empathy, but it wasn’t only her feelings he had sensed, but their nature and their potential consequences. The consequences. He had said that if she didn’t act on her feelings, her joy would die. Minerva shook herself. She didn’t believe in such things. Yet she could see how what Quin had said might be true . . . but then it was inevitable, if it were true. There was no chance that anything could come of telling Albus how she felt. He would feel sorry for her, and in his fondness for her, he would be kind, but she didn’t think she could bear having him feel sorry for her, or having him know of her feelings and not returning them. And he would wonder how she had felt when he had hugged her or kissed her, he would feel very uncomfortable about that. And she couldn’t blame him. It seemed as though telling Albus would end their friendship, and yet, from what Quin had said, if she didn’t tell him, she would become more miserable until their relationship was no longer a source of joy for her.

Minerva swallowed hard. She’d more-or-less agreed to meet Quin and Robert on the veranda; they would be expecting her soon. Looking in the mirror over the washbasin in the corner of her room, Minerva saw that her eyes were red, despite not have shed a tear, and there were circles under her eyes, probably the result of too little sleep the night before. Minerva Summoned her wand and cast a light Glamour on her eyes, reducing the redness, puffiness, and dark circles, then she splashed her face with cold water and ran downstairs to the veranda.

It turned out to have been a pick-up Quidditch game. Quin, Gertie, Minerva, Alroy, made up one team, and Robert, Francis Flint, Bartie Crouch, and Druella Black made up the other team. They played with just one Chaser and one Beater, and only one Bludger. Apparently Gertie normally played Seeker, but this time Alroy did. Minerva was very relieved when, after almost two very sweaty hours of playing Chaser, Alroy finally caught the Snitch. They had been down by six points when they finally scored the last one hundred fifty points, and Minerva had never been much for playing Quidditch, preferring to watch and cheer others on. It didn’t help that Druella was the Beater on the other team, and she seemed to take her job a bit too seriously for a friendly pick-up game.

Minerva limped up the stairs to her room, wanting, no, needing, a shower before lunch, which was in only a half hour. She was pleased to see Gluffy appear with a small vile of some kind of pain potion. With nary a qualm, Minerva swallowed it down. She doubted that the Gamps would poison her, after all. Within moments, she felt much better. A quick shower, and she’d be good as new. Or near as she could get after having been caught by the Bludger a few too many times. Poor Gertie must be even worse off. She was far older than Minerva, and as an inexperienced Beater, she had been hit by the Bludger more often than she’d been able to hit it with the bat. In moves that would have been disapproved of in league play, Gertie would just fly between the Bludger and Minerva or Alroy in a vain attempt to keep the Bludger from hitting either the Chaser or the Seeker. Well, not entirely in vain, since the Bludger didn’t hit its intended target, but it did hit Gertie more often than not. She even fell from her broom at one point, and her son, the Keeper for the other team, caught her with an Arresto Momentum followed rapidly by a Mobilicorpus. The stubborn witch just climbed back on her broom and wouldn’t hear of switching positions with either Quin or Minerva. Of course, she wouldn’t have been much better off with Minerva playing Beater. Minerva suspected she’d suffered even a broken arm with the last blow. Minerva wished that she’d had that bat just once; Druella would have learned a lesson from her. Minerva would have driven that Bludger right into the miserable hag’s fat face.

It hadn’t helped that Valerianna was down there cheering every time that Francis scored a goal or Robert blocked Minerva from scoring, and making loud, deprecating sounds every time Minerva scored. Of course, most of the guests were out cheering for one team or the other – or for both – but Minerva could hear Valerianna’s voice over all the others. After the game, after Gertie had been bundled off to the house with Columbine, Minerva saw Robert and Quin tallying scores. Apparently, they played a Quidditch game every year and kept a running tally of how many points each team scored. Minerva simply rolled her eyes when Quin announced ecstatically that his team was up by thirty-two points. She would have punched him if she hadn’t thought she would fall over if she tried.

After lunch, at which she was seated next to Robert, with Quin at the opposite end of the table from her for the first time, Minerva excused herself, declined an invitation to go out for a “clamber” with Robert and the MacAirts, and went up to her room for a long nap. If she was going to be fresh for the evening, she needed one, especially after her morning. She stopped to see Gertie first, and reassured herself that the older witch was quite well. Gertie had only received a hairline fracture to her ulna, but Minerva scolded her gently and told her that next year, it would be safer for all involved if she declined to play Beater. Gertie grinned ruefully and admitted that Minerva was probably right, and she just might retire from the pick-up games after this.

Notes: Hope this satisfies folks for a while – it may be a few days before anything more is posted. Thanks for reading!

[Hogwarts Duo]

You really are being kind to us today...wheeee.

That Quin...he's just too charming to be believable. I don't doubt his genuine concern for Minerva...and here's the but...BUT he's almost too touchy feely with her. It's one thing to be gentlemanly and offer an arm or speak kindly but to be kissing her on the lips, the cheek, etc. Hmm, I wonder if he'd be that 'friendly' with Minerva if Albus was around?

Awww...they were both drinking tea and thinking of each other at the same time. How sweet. It's almost like they're starting to develop that psychic connection between each other that we so often write about in fanfics. They're communicating with no words and great distances between them. I LOVE IT!!! That's what I'd call a subtle shipper moment...

I thought for a few moments there I was going to have to hurt Poppy Pomfrey. Minerva needs to dash back to Hogwarts to see Albus after all this is over and get some answers about that Valerianna wretch that he had the misfortune to get entangled with a few years back. I'm glad to see, though, that Minerva took care of that so I won't need to break out my wand and do anything to rectify the situation. It will be interesting to see what Albus has to say about all of this and then what information Poppy can add when Min finally sees her as well.

The game of quidditch sound particularly nasty for a 'friendly' game, though given the players I shouldn't be surprised. It would have been truly wonderful to see Minerva fly just a breath away from Valerianna for making those rude noises and comments. It would have served her right if Min had 'accidentally on purpose' knocked the ruddy cow on her arse. And Min's comment about the "miserable old hag"....oh that's a good one!!!!

Thanks for updating so much today! Hopefully it's not long until we see another update though...wink wink.

[MMADfan]

Oh, my, you have made so many comments in your two posts, I just have to respond to them!

hogwartsduo said:

MEGA-HUGS TO YOU for updating so much today!!! I do believe you deserve several pats on the back for giving us so much juicy stuff to read...wheee.

Thanks! ;D

hogwartsduo said:

The dinner where Minerva is seated across from Valerianna must have been sheer torture for her yet she presented herself with class and dignity, though it did take a little help from Quin to do it. A proper cat fight would have been priceless but I'm still holding out hope that Valerianna will get her just desserts and soon. She's such a nasty piece of work and it makes me wonder what in the world Albus thought he was doing in getting mixed up with the likes of her...shudders. To think that even on some minute level he associated Valerianna's looks with Minerva's and then proceeded into a romance gives me the willies...ewwww. He should have known better...the daft old codger.

Oh, eventually they won't be able to avoid each other . . . especially since one of the parties doesn't want to avoid the other! And as for poor Albus and his apparently poor taste in seeing Valerianna, we'll learn more about that, and, of course, why he ended it with her completely and utterly. I think you'll be somewhat sympathetic for the daft old codger!

hogwartsduo said:

Quin is another matter for consideration. He is still mysterious enough to be dangerous in his own charming little way. I do like his character but he makes me so nervous with his familiarity with Minerva. It's like he's charming her to bits and slowing easing her away from Albus, though he says that's not his intention. And then he goes and does something truly wonderful like stopping her from embarassing herself and others at the dinner then giving her a divination reading.

He's being himself, and that's a pretty decent guy, but as readers here and on ffnet have observed, Minerva can't help being devastatingly attractive yet unobtainable for any wizard with taste and a strong enough ego not to feel threatened by her, and she probably leaves a trail of wistful wizards in her wake!

hogwartsduo said:

Oh yes...the reading...I could absolutely hug Quin at this point for telling Minerva exactly what she needed to hear through probably didn't want to hear at that moment. I found him very insightful and it was interesting to see that Carson had used similar words or made a similar statement (can't remember how you phrased it so please forgive). If two people in the same family can come up with the same conclusions at different times and places, surely Minerva has to believe they're speaking truths and she needs to heed their advice. Oh if only....haha.

I know, but she doesn't like divination much . . . and she's been convincing herself for years that she can't be anything to Albus but a friend. However, the reading does give her one more nudge in the right direction . . . and something else to consider!

hogwartsduo said:

The letters were wonderful. I'm so happy Gluffy took the initiative and posted the letter to Albus. It was so sweet and revealing in some ways. Now if only Albus will read between the lines a bit and pick up on her little hints, the world will be right again. His nightmare was truly horrible for him and I felt sorry he had to go through all of that but maybe that was his conscious telling him a few things his rational mind didn't want to recognize!<snip!>

Glad you liked that! Albus is not one to have nightmares very often, but he's been under a little emotional stress lately!

hogwartsduo said:

I think my favorite part of this update has to be the photographs. The idea of Minerva having one sitting with her family was very touching yet sad to know that she had to cut it out of the paper just to have a photo of him...sniff sniff. The pictures that Albus has of Minerva though...now those are some telling photographs for several reasons. He has pictures of her in his drawer...awww...but they also show us glimpses into her past and how their paths have crossed over the years. You do so love to weave a compelling story and hopefully we'll get to see more photographs featuring both Albus and Minerva TOGETHER!!

Together and next to each other! Or even closer? How would that be? ;D

hogwartsduo said:

You'll have to update soon because this is getting sooooooo good and intriguing. It's an addiction you know. The more you write, the more I want to know what's going to happen and how all these people (though good or bad intentions) somehow manage to get Albus and Minerva together....wheeeeeee

Glad you liked it! and they will get together -- remember, it's been less than a week since Minerva's rant in Poppy's office. It just seems like longer because we've had so much history -- when she first got to know him her fifth year, her Animagus training, including that lovely Apparition, the Chamber of Secrets events, the incident in France where Minerva rescued Albus, and bits and pieces of other events, as well, so this is really a story that ranges from 1937 through 1957, it's just that it's not told completely chronologically.

hogwartsduo said:

You really are being kind to us today...wheeee.

That Quin...he's just too charming to be believable. I don't doubt his genuine concern for Minerva...and here's the but...BUT he's almost too touchy feely with her. It's one thing to be gentlemanly and offer an arm or speak kindly but to be kissing her on the lips, the cheek, etc. Hmm, I wonder if he'd be that 'friendly' with Minerva if Albus were around?

Yeah, he's very "friendly," isn't he? Except that he only kissed her lips once, I believe, she kissed him the other time! And as for how he might behave around Albus . . . we might just see that (don't you think we will?)!!!

hogwartsduo said:

Awww...they were both drinking tea and thinking of each other at the same time. How sweet. It's almost like they're starting to develop that psychic connection between each other that we so often write about in fanfics. They're communicating with no words and great distances between them. I LOVE IT!!! That's what I'd call a subtle shipper moment...

Yes . . . that subtle communication because they are in rhythm with one another. Glad you loved it!

hogwartsduo said:

I thought for a few moments there I was going to have to hurt Poppy Pomfrey. Minerva needs to dash back to Hogwarts to see Albus after all this is over and get some answers about that Valerianna wretch that he had the misfortune to get entangled with a few years back. I'm glad to see, though, that Minerva took care of that so I won't need to break out my wand and do anything to rectify the situation. It will be interesting to see what Albus has to say about all of this and then what information Poppy can add when Min finally sees her as well.

Yes, the trip to see Poppy will explain a lot, and we'll have about 60% of the Valerianna Yaxley story!

hogwartsduo said:

The game of quidditch sound particularly nasty for a 'friendly' game, though given the players I shouldn't be surprised. It would have been truly wonderful to see Minerva fly just a breath away from Valerianna for making those rude noises and comments. It would have served her right if Min had 'accidentally on purpose' knocked the ruddy cow on her arse. And Min's comment about the "miserable old hag"....oh that's a good one!!!!

Thanks for updating so much today! Hopefully it's not long until we see another update though...wink wink.

Minerva was not particularly pleased with Quin for getting her involved in that cut-throat game. The two kids (for some reason!) really enjoyed themselves, as did Druella, the miserable, fat-faced hag! ;D Minerva is working very hard at being on her best behavior . . . for now!

I'll try to update again in a few days!