Resolving a Misunderstanding (complete)

[FireBird]

First of all, thank you very much for the quick update!
The talk between Quin and Minerva was lovely, and I do hope his little trick will get her thinking. House-elves are quite sharp, aren't they?
The ever curious part of me is wondering, of course, what Gertie wrote Albus, and is still puzzled about her motives for inviting Minerva.
I don't have much more to say, except that this chapter was really lovely and I enjoyed it very much.

[Orion's Guard]

That was a nice final scene with Minerva and Quin (whether or not we see him again).

I have been keeping up, though I am glad to see her going back to Hogwarts now.

[bethj4013]

Great story still I can't wait to read more I just got all caught up in one sitting. Now I am afraid I have to go do something more constructive with my day.

[MMADfan]

Thanks, Alesia, Hogwarts Duo/Ang/GLM, Tiger Lime, Orion's Guard, and beth4013! Here's the next installment. Hope you enjoy!

This is posted in two parts.

LXXVII: Return to Hogwarts

Albus had slept well, eaten a big breakfast of eggs, fried bread, and grilled tomatoes, and was now searching one of Hogwarts many store rooms for just the right thing. He had noticed the lack of adornment in her bedroom and had an idea for a present that would be both decorative and practical. And it would give him an opportunity to offer her another gift without it seeming too awkward. Albus now had pulled out five different landscapes. Perhaps he should let her choose . . . he could tell her there were others, if she’d prefer something different. In the end, he chose one that showed a scene resembling the wild landscape near her childhood home, with a ruined castle in the background.

Humming, Albus let himself into Minerva’s quarters, knocking on her bedroom door before entering, in case she’d returned early. He used a sticking charm to affix the landscape to the wall opposite her bed. If she liked it, he could connect it to the portrait network and place wards on it so that only her own portrait could enter it. Or perhaps just the dog. A witch probably wouldn’t want to have a male portrait walking in on her, even though it’s just some charmed paint and canvas. Albus smiled. The Silent Knight and his dog had been a good choice, then, since the dog could come and go. Of course, he could have chosen a female portrait. In fact, he’d been about to pick a rather nice portrait of Scáthach when the Silent Knight broke his silence and said, “I will serve the lady,” and tried to offer Albus his sword. Since Albus had never heard the Silent Knight speak before, neither as a student nor later as a teacher, he took this as a sign that the Knight would be a reliable door warden for Minerva. Of course, the Knight hadn’t spoken to Albus since then, but apparently he spoke to Minerva occasionally. But not for anything as mundane as announcing a visitor. He would ask Minerva if she would prefer a different portrait for her door, as well.

Albus wondered if he should wait here for Minerva. No, that would seem strange to her, and certainly a violation of her privacy to make himself at home in her rooms. He also didn’t know when she would return, either. He could, however, just happen to be taking a walk on the grounds, and if she happened to return and walk up from the gates while he was getting some fresh air, well, that would be a convenient coincidence.

Forty-five minutes later, Albus was walking from the lake to the castle for the third time when he felt a slight shift in the wards. He looked toward the gates and saw Minerva as she turned and closed the gate behind her. He met her halfway between the gates and the castle.

“Good-morning, Professor McGonagall! Welcome back!” He smiled broadly at her.

“Good-morning, Albus. Were you waiting for me?” she said, smiling in greeting.

“No, not at all. Just taking a walk. Here, let me take that bag from you.”

Minerva let go of her carpet bag, which she had carried in her right hand while Apparating, and Albus simultaneously waved his own hand, and the bag floated obediently behind them as they walked up to the castle.

“Did you have a pleasant week? How was the party last night?” Albus asked.

“It was an interesting week, and the party was also very interesting.”

“Interesting? That sounds less than pleasant.”

“Oh, it was fine, Albus. I’m rather tired, that’s all. There were some pleasant moments interspersed by some less-than-pleasant ones.” Minerva certainly didn’t want to discuss the lovely Valerianna on their walk back up to the castle. She wanted to enjoy being back with Albus before she did that.

“You are all right, though?” he asked, with some concern in his voice.

“I’m fine, Albus.” She stopped and smiled at him. “Especially now that I’m home.”

Albus returned her smile and said, “Well, I have a small surprise for you, Minerva. Something to help make your rooms more homey. At least I hope it does.”

“Really? Thank you, but you didn’t need to do anything . . .”

“I wanted to, Minerva. And it’s nothing special, really.”

“I’m sure it is, Albus.” She smiled happily. “Anything you would do is special, just because you’re the one doing it.” It was so good to be back at Hogwarts, back with Albus. It was all she could do to keep from throwing her arms around him in a big hug, she was so happy to see him.

“Well, wait until you see it, Minerva, and if you don’t like it, you must tell me. Don’t be afraid to be honest with me, all right?”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” she said, then added, “but I’ll tell you if I don’t. I promise.” She smiled again.

They reached Minerva’s room, and the Silent Knight bowed before opening the door to them.

“Your surprise is in your bedroom. I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty.” He opened the door to the bedroom for her.

“Not at all, Albus. Not when it’s you!” She thought her cheeks would burst, she was smiling so much.

Minerva walked in, looked around, and didn’t see anything different about the room, then she started to turn to ask Albus where the surprise was and saw the painting hanging on the wall opposite her bed.

“Oh, Albus, it’s lovely! It really is. Thank you!” She had to restrain herself from bouncing on her toes like Blampa.

“You’re welcome. I thought that, if you approved of it, I could connect it to your portrait and allow the dog to access it. That way, the Knight can send the dog in to announce your visitors. If you like.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Albus, thank you.” Minerva was so happy; she was home and Albus was here, sweet and generous Albus. She turned to him, smiling. “It is so wonderful to be home!”

She couldn’t contain herself as her happiness bubbled up in her, and seeing his pleased expression, she put her arms around him in a brief embrace, but when Albus’s arms came up around her, she didn’t pull away; instead, she leaned against him and closed her eyes. He felt wonderful.

“I’m glad you’re happy to be back, Minerva.” Albus patted her back, then let go of her and stepped away, smiling. “You’ll have to tell me about the party. How is Robert?”

Minerva took a breath. “He’s fine. We talked quite a bit yesterday. And I danced with him at the party last night. He seems very nice.”

“He is. So is his wife. Did he say how Thea is?”

“She’s on bed-rest, and I guess she’s not happy about it, but she’s doing well otherwise.”

“Good, good.” Albus looked around. “I can connect the landscape to your door portrait later today, if you like. It won’t take long, but I thought we could have tea now and you could tell me about your holiday.”

Minerva nodded. “That would be fine. Oh, before I completely forget, Gertie gave me a letter for you.”

She opened her carpet bag, which had settled on her bed. “Her personal courier,” she said, handing the letter to Albus. “She said that if you wanted to talk about it, most of the guests will be gone by the weekend, if you’d like to go down and see her.”

Minerva was curious about the contents of the letter, but Albus just nodded and pocketed the letter.

“I see you have some family pictures here.” He walked over to the vanity and picked up the photograph of Melina and her father. “The one of Melina and Murdoch is nice – taken in the park near the apothecary, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was,” Minerva responded nervously, hoping he hadn’t seen the small picture of himself. “What about that tea now? Albus?” Her stomach sunk to her toes. He had picked up the pathetic little newspaper photograph she’d framed a dozen years before.

“And one of me. Not my best side,” he said with a grin.

“Yes, well, I’ve had it a while. It just . . . it seemed . . . I thought, with my other family photos . . . I thought it was a nice picture of you when I saw it. And then I just kept it . . . .” Now she was babbling.

“Would you like a better one? I’m sure I could find one; in fact, I think that somewhere I may even have a photograph of us both . . . if you’d like it, of course. I don’t normally go about handing out my photograph.”

Minerva laughed nervously. “No, I wouldn’t expect you would. But yes, that would be nice . . . I just, well, that would be nice. But how do you have a photograph of both of us?” she asked, wondering if it was the picture that Robert had told her about.

“Oh, something taken after your Challenge. I happened to speak with the photographer. . . .” He shrugged. “I still have it somewhere, I’m sure.”

“Yes, I would like that, Albus. Thank you.”

Albus replaced the small framed picture of himself and said, “It’s nothing, my dear, nothing at all. Now, what about that tea?” He rubbed his hands together. “Here? Or my office? Or yours?”

“Here would be fine, Albus. I am tired, as I said, and I promised Poppy that I would Floo over for tea this afternoon, so I may take a nap first.”

“If you’re too tired, my dear, we can do this some other time – tomorrow, or even next week, if you like. Please don’t feel you must entertain an old man.”

“I don’t. And you’re hardly old, Albus. Well, you are, I suppose,” she said uncomfortably, realising how disingenuous she might sound to him, “but after seeing some of the guests at the Gamps, you seem quite youthful in comparison. And I never think of you as old.”

“Very kind of you to say. But if you’re tired. . . .”

“Not too tired for a cup of tea with you.” She smiled at him again, and as her happiness and relief at being back at Hogwarts with him washed over her, she forgot her discomfort with his discovery of the tiny picture of himself that she’d kept for so many years.

Back in the sitting room, Minerva called Blampa and requested tea for her and the Headmaster. It arrived, complete with a plate of ginger newts, within moments. Blampa, trying to be a good house-elf, appeared to have anticipated her request.

“Do you mind if I take a moment to freshen up, Albus?” she asked. “I Apparated straight here after breakfast.”

“Take all the time you need, my dear!” he said, sitting at the small table by the window. “I’ll be fine.”

Continued in the next post.

[MMADfan]

LXXVII: Return to Hogwarts, continued

As Minerva washed her hands, she looked into the mirror. The Glamour she had cast earlier that morning had disappeared, but she didn’t need to cast another one. The walk and breakfast that morning had cleared away the cobwebs in her head and the puffiness around her eyes; her happiness at being back at Hogwarts had added more colour to her cheeks. Her face relaxed into a smile. It was so nice of Albus to fix the surprise for her return to the castle, even if it had been embarrassing when he’d noticed her pathetic little photograph of him. Well, it wasn’t as though she’d made a shrine to him, after all. She may have kept all of his letters, but they were sensibly stored in a wooden box at the bottom of her wardrobe, not out where he would have noticed them.

Minerva reentered the sitting room to find Albus smiling over his letter from Gertrude. He looked up at her and re-rolled the parchment, putting it back in his pocket.

“Nice letter?” Minerva asked. “She said she hadn’t had much time to write you this week . . . something she’d said earlier made me think that she wouldn’t write you until the weekend.”

“Yes, quite, quite. She wrote it this morning,” Albus said, reaching for the teapot. “Shall I be mother?”

Minerva nodded and sat down across from him. “Anything of note happen here while I was away?”

“No, although we have received a few responses to the first advertisement for a Care of Magical Creatures teacher. But tell me about your holiday, Minerva.”

“Well, Gertrude was correct; the landscape is beautiful, and she was also correct in that not all of her relatives are particularly pleasant.”

“You seemed to get to know Quin MacAirt, though, and he always struck me as a good wizard, if somewhat unconventional – which I do not think is a bad thing!”

“Yes, I did. I got to know him fairly well, if only out of a desire not to get to know some of the others any better than I had to,” she said with a grin. “But he is nice, as you say, and it would be unfair to him to pretend that I didn’t also enjoy his company. I think he could become a good friend, eventually.”

“That’s lovely, Minerva! I’m glad you went down, then. I’ve felt Hogwarts might keep you from potential beaus, so I’m happy you met someone so agreeable. You must take every opportunity to get away from the castle when you are able to, especially during the summer holidays. There is no requirement to stay here, after all. Get out, enjoy yourself!”

“It was nice to go away, but nicer to return, Albus. And Quin isn’t a potential beau. He’s a friend, that’s all.”

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss the possibility, Minerva. He’s successful, decent, clearly quite a catch.”

“I doubt he would like to be thought of as a ‘catch,’ Albus,” responded Minerva, not liking the turn the conversation had taken. “Besides, he has no intention of becoming involved with any witch right now. That was part of what made his company congenial; I didn’t need to worry about his intentions toward me.”

“Well, when the right witch comes along, he’ll change his mind, I’m sure. He’s young, yet – ”

“Albus! However true that may be, Quin is not looking for a romantic relationship, and I have no desire to become one of the witches who annoys him with unwanted attentions, even if I were interested in him, which I am not. We were allies this weekend, and we enjoyed each other’s company, but that is all.”

Albus smiled at her. “All right, my dear, but perhaps he has a friend, and over the summer – ”

“Perhaps he has many friends, Albus. That is neither here nor there. I am not interested in leaving Hogwarts in search of a beau. It almost sounds as though you want to be rid of me. If it is a problem for me to spend time at the castle over the summer, just say so. I can go to my parents’. I plan to visit them at some point, anyway.” Her pleasure at returning to Hogwarts was evaporating.

“No, not at all. You are welcome to spend as much time here as you wish, of course. It’s just that most of the staff look forward to the freedom they have during the summer.”

“Well, I am sure I will enjoy coming and going, but . . . well, I’d looked forward to spending time here, that’s all.” A sudden thought struck her. “Are you going away, Albus?”

“I will make a few short trips, I am sure, but I have responsibilities here, which is why I was unable to attend the party yesterday, as I explained to Gertie. I had made no provisions for my absence.”

“I see . . . so you don’t mind if I stay? I won’t be in the way?”

“My word, no, Minerva, I hadn’t meant to give that impression at all. You couldn’t be ‘in the way’ – it’s a large castle, after all! You’d hardly be underfoot.”

What remained of Minerva’s joy at her return to the castle seemed to evaporate completely. “I see.” She took a sip of her tea and tried to swallow her disappointment with it. She had hoped that she would be far from “underfoot,” that she might actually be a welcome presence in the castle. They had such a nice time in the days before she’d left for Cornwall, but, after all, that was only a few days, a few days out of several months of living side-by-side in the castle with Albus and hardly seeing him at all. Why should that have changed?

Albus sensed Minerva’s change in mood. “Besides, Minerva, we had planned on spending more time together this summer, perhaps attend a concert or two. We could do that even if you went to your parents, I suppose, but it would be nice if you were here.”

Minerva looked up at him. “Are you sure, Albus?”

“Of course! I missed you these last few days, Minerva. But I don’t want to be selfish, keep you here in the castle, to myself.”

“That’s not selfish!” Minerva let out a sigh of relief. “I missed you, too. I was busy, of course, but I kept wishing you were there. And it’s nice to be back home – well, at Hogwarts.”

“I’m glad.” Albus smiled. “You were going to tell me about your holiday before I changed the topic.”

“Yes, well, Gertie showed me the hill fort the first morning I was there, and I found that quite impressive. And Quin gave me a partial tour of the gardens. His wife had been an Herbologist, so he knew a surprising amount about them.”

“Ah, yes, poor Aileen. How are the children? I haven’t seen them in a few years.”

“They seem fine, like very nice children. Aine is a little shy, I think, but she may be overshadowed by her older brother.” Minerva laughed. “Would you believe that Alroy had the courage to ask me to dance last night?”

Albus grinned. “Did he, now? Well, perhaps he’s your future beau – in a dozen years or so!”

They both laughed. “He is quite the little charmer, Albus. We will all have to be careful to make sure that he doesn’t use that charm to wriggle his way out of trouble.”

“I’m sure that we will manage. I’m more concerned that he will find it difficult to adapt to his lessons. I remember how difficult it was to discipline myself to use my wand when it would have been so much simpler to just flick my fingers at something.”

“Flick your fingers? You mean you did wandless magic as a child, too?”

“Oh, yes, indeed. It was much more common when I was a child. Particularly in certain families and in certain regions. It’s still considered quite normal in Ireland, although the Irish Ministry is becoming stronger and issuing more regulations, under pressure from our Ministry. And as more Irish children accept their places at Hogwarts, the more the traditional ways will fade.”

“When I saw Alroy using wandless magic, I rather upset Quin by taking him to task for it, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, well, Quin has encountered some prejudice because of his unconventional training – unconventional by modern British standards, at any rate. He has overcome it, for the most part, but he was likely afraid that, as Alroy’s teacher, you would hold it against his son, as well.”

“I wouldn’t have done that, though Quin had no way of knowing that, of course. And we straightened out the misunderstanding. However, Albus, there is one rather . . . unusual talent that Alroy has, and of which Quin was ignorant. Not ignorant, disbelieving. We will need to take that into consideration in his education.”

Albus raised his eyebrows. “And what talent would that be?”

Minerva took a sip of tea. “He can understand animals. He talks to them and they answer. I actually believe he only vocalises because he thinks he must, but there is no question that he can communicate with them.”

“Really? What sorts of animals? Is he . . . a Parselmouth?”

“I don’t know. He did say that he can only communicate with certain animals, not all, and I discovered this after I demonstrated my Animagus form for him, and he heard my thoughts in the same way as I’ve found other animals are able to.”

“That is an interesting bit of news. We will have to make sure that someone works with him on that talent. Perhaps you could be in charge of that?”

“That would be fine, Albus. I’ll work with Wilhelmina and the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher.”

“And, other than your dance with Alroy, which I assume was amusing, did you have a nice time at the party?”

“I suppose so, for the most part.” Minerva hesitated only a moment. “I must say that if I never see Valerianna Yaxley again in my life, I will not be unhappy.”

Albus’s face didn’t alter its expression one whit, and he said nothing.

“She has a peculiar notion of appropriate behaviour,” Minerva continued, watching for any reaction from Albus. “She took a dislike to me from the moment she met me on Monday, although I hadn’t heard of her until that day. But she seemed only . . . unpleasant, until the party.” Albus still made no comment and gazed calmly at Minerva. “While Gropius was congratulating Walburga and Orion, Valerianna interrupted to announce her own engagement to Francis Flint. It was not well-received.”

“No, I imagine it would not have been.” Albus broke his silence, but reacted in no other way.

“I understand you know her. Was she the witch you referred to in your letter?”

“Yes. She is the widow of a friend, a wizard I worked with during the war. She was also briefly on the Hogwarts Board of Governors.”

“So you know her well?” Minerva fished.

“I thought I did. I knew her husband better. And what of the rest of the party?”

“It was fine . . .” Minerva hesitated. No point in telling Albus about Valerianna’s nastiness on the balcony. Not when he was so clearly unwilling to discuss her. “I danced with a few other wizards, including Minister Tapper.”

“How is Alfred? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He seemed fine. I don’t really know him well. His granddaughter danced with Alroy, who was quite a polite little gentleman.” Minerva smiled. “He reminded me of Carson. Alroy, not Minister Tapper.”

“Yes, that’s right. Carson is related to the MacAirts. Was, I should say.” Albus looked uncomfortable.

“Yes, I hadn’t known that, myself. Alroy was Seeker yesterday morning during a pick-up game of Quidditch. I don’t know if he will have the talent that Carson did, but he showed promise, for his age.” Minerva shook her head. “It was an awful game, Albus.”

“Your team lost?” Albus asked with a slight smile.

“No,” she answered with a chuckle. “We won, surprisingly enough, but only because Alroy caught the Snitch. Gertie played Beater, and she was dreadful at it. She’d just fly between the Bludger and its intended target, and the few times her bat made contact with it, she had no ability to aim it. She was a danger to herself and everyone else, but she wouldn’t hear of relinquishing her position.” Minerva shook her head.

“She’s all right, isn’t she? She mentioned nothing of that in her letter.” Albus looked worried.

“She’s fine, now, no thanks to Druella, who played with more zeal than appropriate in a friendly game. Gertie broke her arm, and I don’t doubt she was bruised all over, but she rested all afternoon and I’m sure that Columbine took care of her and gave her the appropriate potions. Gertie seemed to enjoy herself at the party, so she must have been feeling well.”

“Good, good.” He smiled. “She dances well, so I am glad she was not so injured that she was unable to attend and enjoy herself.”

“Quin mentioned that he enjoys dancing with her. She looked lovely, as well.”

“Were you able to spend much time with her over the last few days?”

“Some – far more than I had over the previous six months, certainly. She is . . . an interesting witch.” Minerva thought of their conversation in the garden, when she felt that Gertrude had been lecturing her about loyalty and Gryffindor backbone. “I don’t know as I understand her very well, but I do feel as though I know her somewhat better.” Minerva looked at Albus. “She’s very loyal to you, from what I have been able to discern.”

“Yes, as I told you, much to your disbelief,” Albus said with a smile.

“Well, she doesn’t say much, does she? Here at school, anyway.”

“She is reserved, and she is careful whom she chooses to talk to.”

“I suppose so . . . I’m not particularly out-going, myself, so I suppose that didn’t help us become better acquainted earlier. Gertie is very protective of you . . . .”

“Yes, she is,” Albus said softly. He smiled gently at Minerva. “You are warming to her, then?” He echoed words that Quin had uttered not long ago.

“Why would you say that?” Minerva asked.

“Other than the fact that you have admitted that she is loyal and protective, you have called her ‘Gertie’ several times, something that was rare before now.”

“Oh! I suppose I have done.” Minerva shrugged. “I do feel better acquainted with her.”

“Good! I’m very glad, Minerva. Now I suppose you would like your nap. Will you be taking lunch here?”

“I’m not sure – I may sleep through it. Last night went quite late, then I got up early for breakfast. I’m sure Poppy will have something for me this afternoon.”

Albus stood. “Very well, then. I won’t worry if I don’t see you at lunch, and with your permission, I will connect the landscape with your door portrait this afternoon while you are visiting Poppy.”

Minerva smiled. “Good, thank you again, Albus. It’s not only lovely, but it will be nice to have it connected with the portrait.”

“Speaking of your portrait, if you are unhappy with the Silent Knight, I could find another one for you. You could pick out something for yourself, if you wish.”

“Oh, no, he irritates me a little, I suppose, but I’ve become used to him and Fidelio – that’s the dog.”

“All right, my dear, but if you should change your mind – ”

“Thank you, Albus. I’ll remember that.”

Albus took his leave with a smile and a wave, telling her it was good to have her back at the castle, and Minerva closed the door behind him. Once he was gone, Minerva felt suddenly very tired. The last few days had been stressful, and she’d not really had time to process everything. What she’d learned about Albus, about Valerianna, even about Gertie. It was all rather much all at once.

Minerva quickly stripped off her robes and underwear and pulled a clean batiste nightgown on, then cast a Tempus alarm to wake her in an hour and a half. She would wait to unpack. She was exhausted. As she lay there, though, she was unable to fall asleep. Of all that she and Albus had spoken of that morning, she could only think of his apparent desire to have her away from Hogwarts for the summer. He had said, of course, that he only didn’t want to keep her in the castle to himself. But she still felt hurt by his use of the word “underfoot.” Minerva reminded herself that Albus had later said he wanted to spend time with her, perhaps attend a concert together. She lifted her head and looked at the landscape. And he had given her a gift to welcome her home, and was going to give her a picture of the two of them. If he remembered. She hoped he would.

Minerva sighed, thinking of how it had been only a week ago that she had lain on this bed and wept, believing that she had utterly ruined her friendship with Albus with her foolish and ill-chosen words in Poppy’s office. She wouldn’t endanger their friendship again by making demands on him or expecting more from him than he could give her. And he was going to such efforts to demonstrate his friendship for her, she couldn’t let herself take offense if he thought she should be off entertaining herself somewhere other than Hogwarts. She wouldn’t let herself become a nuisance, but she would appreciate everything he did for her . . . although she did hope that she saw him more than she had during term-time. Minerva had come to feel that she would have seen more of him if she had stayed in London. Not literally, of course, but at least when she was working for the Ministry, they had occasionally had lunch or dinner together, just the two of them, yet from the night of the party Poppy had held for her up until last Thursday evening, she’d scarcely spent more than ten or fifteen minutes alone with him that wasn’t consumed entirely by Hogwarts business. She really had begun to wonder whether he regretted hiring her, he seemed so distant and businesslike all of the time. But then their dinner in his sitting room had been so lovely, and he had been so kind, and then the next few days they had spent so much time together, that she had almost forgotten the way he had held her at a distance for so long, until he said what he did about the castle being large and her not being underfoot. It reminded Minerva uncomfortably of the nightmare she’d woken up from in the early hours of the morning, in which she had been searching a deserted Hogwarts for Albus and been unable to find him, then seen her reflection as a wretched old hag.

Dwelling on such gloomy thoughts was no good, Minerva realised. Instead, she should think of all the nice things Albus had done for her lately, and of how very sweet of him it had been to take the time and effort to hang the landscape in her room for her. Minerva rolled over and closed her eyes. As she tried to relax, she remembered how good it had been to see him when she walked up the path to the castle. Smiling at the memory, Minerva wondered if perhaps he hadn’t really been out waiting for her to return, despite his declaration that he just happened to be taking a walk. It sounded like something she would do in order to keep him from thinking she had gone out of her way for him. But, of course, it was different for Albus. Nonetheless, the memory of his warm greeting helped her to relax, and she drifted to sleep.

---

Note: I hope you all enjoyed this installment! Next up, Minerva visits Poppy and learns some very interesting details.

[Hogwarts Duo]

“Good-morning, Albus. Were you waiting for me?” she said, smiling in greeting.

“No, not at all. Just taking a walk. Here, let me take that bag from you.”

Albus is such a cutie when he’s lying to cover his tracks. I found it very endearing that he would walk the grounds constantly in the hopes of being outside when Minerva returned. That was just too cute and such a little fluffy moment. I needed that bit of ADMM sweetness!

“Would you like a better one? I’m sure I could find one; in fact, I think that somewhere I may even have a photograph of us both . . . if you’d like it, of course. I don’t normally go about handing out my photograph.”

“Oh, something taken after your Challenge. I happened to speak with the photographer. . . .” He shrugged. “I still have it somewhere, I’m sure.”

The way Albus and Minerva dance around each other in this chapter is so adorable. If only they would knock down the other walls that keep them separated and finally admit that they’re madly in love…dreamy sigh. I hope Albus keeps his promise to Minerva and gives her a much better picture of himself for her to frame. That would be very sweet and no doubt she would cherish it.

“That’s lovely, Minerva! I’m glad you went down, then. I’ve felt Hogwarts might keep you from potential beaus, so I’m happy you met someone so agreeable. You must take every opportunity to get away from the castle when you are able to, especially during the summer holidays. There is no requirement to stay here, after all. Get out, enjoy yourself!”

And this is where the adorable fluffy bits end. What on earth is Albus thinking??? He’s gone from being incredibly sweet and endearing to practically pushing her out the door and into Quin’s arms. He’s such an insensitive jerk sometimes! I don’t care if he thinks he’s doing this for Minerva’s good. She’s a grown witch and can make her own decisions about how she spends her free time. GRRRR at Albus for being so cold at this point!

They had such a nice time in the days before she’d left for Cornwall, but, after all, that was only a few days, a few days out of several months of living side-by-side in the castle with Albus and hardly seeing him at all. Why should that have changed?

And now we’re back to square one…sigh. Albus thinks Minerva needs to get out and find a man to fill her life and probably her bed. And Minerva thinks that Albus has slipped back into his old habits of ignoring her and sparing only a little bit of time for her. The end where Minerva thinks back on all the nice things Albus has done for her and how she felt when she first arrived home should give her some indication of where her heart truly lies but instead she allows his words to speak louder than his actions sometimes.

Are you sure these two finally end up together?

Thanks for the update!!! Looking forward to more…SOON!!! ;D

[FireBird]

The first item on my list of things to say is, of course, thank you for posting again so soon!
No new pieces to the puzzle in this chapter, it seems, except maybe Albus' unwillingness to speak of Valerianna.
I was naturally not happy with Albus' attempts to get Minerva to go out with Quin, but I don't think that's insensitive. After all, how could he know that he is hurting Minerva? The welcoming present and his 'walk were really very sweet and I'm happy Minerva chose to think of that rather than the new little misunderstandings.

[MMADfan]

Thanks to everyone who left comments on the last chapter. It is nice to have Minerva back at Hogwarts, isn't it? And, of course, seeing more of Albus is always a bonus, in my mind!

Posted in two parts because of length.

LXXVIII: A Conspiracy of Witches

Minerva woke to the gentle chiming of her Tempus alarm a little more than an hour later. Feeling somewhat better for her nap, she called Blampa and asked her to bring a cold drink, then she unpacked her carpet bag, tossing most of its contents in the dirty laundry, but carefully placing her tea things on her vanity, Albus’s letters with them, and her tartan afghan at the foot of the bed. She stowed the empty bag in the bottom of her wardrobe and selected a fresh set of pale green robes. When Blampa returned with a tall glass of strawberry lemonade, Minerva asked her to take care of the laundry for her, but to touch nothing else.

Dressed, Minerva went out to her sitting room and reshelved the books that she’d barely glanced at during her visit to Cornwall. She sat on the settee and finished her lemonade. Now that she’d had her nap, she didn’t feel quite as bothered by Albus’s apparent desire to get her out of the castle. He’d clearly only been trying to encourage her to socialise with others and at the same time to reassure her that it would not be problematic if she were to stay at the castle if she wished. He had given her a lovely present, spent time having tea with her, promised her a copy of his photograph, and was going to return that afternoon to connect the landscape to her door portrait. And he had returned her embrace briefly. Minerva rose, sighing. Perhaps that had been a mistake. It was so much simpler to be at ease with Quin, whose touch meant so little to her, aside from imparting the warmth of friendship. But with Albus . . . between the somewhat peculiar history of their friendship and her own overly strong feelings for him, which she feared betraying, each touch and each embrace seemed dangerous to her, and each seemed to create a new vulnerability in her.

Minerva had not failed to notice the rather casual manner with which Albus took his leave, quite unlike his manner in the days before she had left for Cornwall, when he had invariably taken her hand, at least, in parting; he had even kissed her cheek the morning she had Portkeyed to the Gamps. But she had clearly placed too much value in those gestures, and she had to stop that. He was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and she was one of his teachers. She certainly couldn’t expect him to shower her with gestures of affection; it would be inappropriate, even if they were friends.

Now she had to be off for Poppy’s sister’s. Minerva almost wished she had not agreed to the idea – or that she had put it off until Friday. It would have been nice to spend the afternoon at home after the last few rather hectic days. She put her small purse in one pocket and her wand in the other and set off for Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks.

She walked briskly and was soon entering the nearly empty pub. After dropping a few Knuts in the box on the mantle meant for that purpose, Minerva took a pinch of Floo-Powder from the jar next to it, tossed it into the low fire, then stepped in and said clearly, “The Hag’s Hump.” She hoped, somewhat belatedly, that there was only one Hag’s Hump on the Floo-Network and that she hadn’t had to say anything more specific to reach her destination.

It was a long Floo-trip, and Minerva closed her eyes against the dizzying flashes as other fireplaces whizzed by her. She stumbled a bit on arriving and held onto the side of the fireplace as she stepped out. Looking around her, Minerva decided that she was at the correct destination.

“You Minerva McGonagall?” came a deep voice from behind her.

She turned to see a short, dark-haired man wearing a striped apron over his grey and white robes.

“Yes, I am.”

“Violet said you’d be around this afternoon. When you leave here, go right, then take the first left into the narrow way. She’s the blue one at the end.”

“Thank you, Mister – ?”

“Billy, just call me Billy.”

“Thank you, Billy.”

Minerva easily found Violet’s small house in the little wizarding cul-de-sac and lifted the knocker to rap sharply on the front door. She smiled when Poppy opened the door to her.

“Minerva! So good you could come! Come in, come in!” Poppy opened the door more widely. “Violet brought the children to visit some friends, so we have the house to ourselves for the afternoon.”

She led her friend into a small, bright parlour. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll have some tea for us. I have some nice sandwiches and some little cakes, too. Have a seat, make yourself comfortable!”

“Can’t I help, Poppy?”

“Oh, no, everything’s set. I’ll just be a minute, Min!”

Minerva bit back her usual response to being called “Min” and sat down in a comfortable overstuffed chair. Poppy was back a few minutes later with a large tray holding sandwiches and the tea things.

“It needs to steep a few more minutes. Are you hungry? Would you like a sandwich? There’s fresh cheese and olive, and salmon with dill.”

“Yes, thanks. I took a nap instead of going to lunch.” Minerva helped herself to a sandwich of soft cheese on crusty bread. “Mmm, very good.”

Poppy poured them both tea, and after Minerva had eaten several bites of her sandwich, she said, “All right, Poppy. I believe you have some explaining to do.”

“Yes,” Poppy replied uncomfortably. “I suppose so.”

“That letter you sent me. You obviously know who Valerianna Yaxley is. And you warned me to stay away from her. I will tell you why that was probably good advice, although I didn’t succeed in following it, if you tell me why you gave me that advice.”

“Oh, dear. She said something to you.”

“Yes, she did, but I think I’ll make better sense of it after you tell me why you warned me about her.”

“You said that Gertrude had told you something about her, so before I tell you about Valerianna, and what I know, I need to tell you that I wrote Gertie to find out what she’d told you already and to, well, to tell her that, if you asked me, I was going to tell you whatever she hadn’t. She thought that was a good idea.”

“You discussed this with Gertie?” Minerva was slightly put out.

“You need to know the whole story before you start getting upset with me, Minerva. There’s a very good reason I never mentioned Yaxley to you, and not only because I never dreamed you would meet her. You’ll understand that. For all I knew before I got your letter, you may have even known something about her from Albus.”

“All right, go ahead. I’m listening, Poppy.” Minerva settled back with her cup of tea.

“Well, Minerva, it’s complicated. I know that you are aware that Albus had been seeing Valerianna on a social basis. She was on the Hogwarts Board of Governors at the time, probably only because she wanted a reason to be able to see him more frequently. I wasn’t there at the time they started seeing each other, but I understand that it started simply enough – there were functions they both were attending, so they’d go together, then she began to have him escort her to parties. Eventually, they were . . . seen as a couple, I suppose one could say, and, well, you can imagine how it proceeded from there.

“I’d just come on staff a couple weeks before, so I didn’t know much more than that Albus was apparently seeing some witch. Gertrude came to me one morning. It was about this time of year, actually. She asked me if I were loyal to the Deputy Headmaster. It was an odd question, and I was confused, but of course I said I was. She just nodded and told me to come to her rooms for a meeting that evening.

“To make a long story short, I arrived to find Gertie, Wilhelmina, Professor MacAirt, and Madam Perlecta all there. They were . . . conspiring. On behalf of Albus, or for his benefit, I suppose you could say. Gertie filled me in. She said that Albus had been seeing a witch named Valerianna Yaxley and that she was bad news. She had tried to warn Albus about the witch, but for some reason, Albus didn’t listen to her – in fact, Gertie seemed to think it had just made him more determined to give the witch a chance, so she stopped trying to tell him anything. I was hesitant to get involved at first. I didn’t know Valerianna, after all, except by name, and Albus – he’s Albus Dumbledore. Surely he should be able to see whomever he wanted. But then Gertrude said that Valerianna had been seeing other wizards, all the while telling Albus that he was the only one. Gertrude was convinced that Valerianna was going to try to get Albus to marry her; she said that even if he didn’t, that eventually he would be hurt by this witch, and that it was better that he learn the truth about her sooner rather than later.”

Poppy sighed. “Of course, I asked whether she couldn’t just tell Albus about the other wizards, but Gertie convinced me that Albus would not listen to her, and that he had to learn about the witch’s duplicity first-hand in order to believe it.” She shook her head. “Gertie had spent two months learning about what that woman was up to. She was convinced that Valerianna would invite a wizard to spend the afternoon with her just before she was to see Albus. It fit a pattern.

“Albus had taken over some of the Headmaster’s duties, since Dippet was ill again, and there was a final staff meeting set for the next afternoon. Albus had a . . . date scheduled with Valerianna for that evening. They were meeting at a cottage of his. It was a Friday. Gertie was concerned because Albus was planning on being away for the whole weekend. She was worried that Valerianna was going to use the opportunity to get Albus to propose. I thought it seemed unlikely, and rather fast, but the other witches supported Gertie’s interpretation.

“What really convinced me to help them, though, was that Gertie was sure that Valerianna was going to bring another wizard with her to the cottage that afternoon and then just get rid of him before Albus arrived. Gertrude wanted to arrange for Albus to get there early and find them together. She said that if Valerianna wasn’t up to anything, it wouldn’t hurt for him to arrive early, and if she was, well, Albus would have his eyes opened.”

Minerva interrupted. “Why didn’t she just tell him about Valerianna? I don’t understand that – they’re good friends. They have been for years. Why would she want to expose him to such a thing?”

“She had tried, and he’d become angry with her. I know he doesn’t tend to get angry often, but I believed Gertie, and there was some reason he wouldn’t listen to her. I don’t know what it was, but he probably would have just told Gertie that she was slandering Valerianna. You had to be there, Minerva. Anyway, she asked for my help as the Hogwarts matron. She wanted to have the afternoon staff meeting cancelled so that Albus would leave early for his date. But it had to be for a very good reason. Minerva, you must never repeat what I’m about to tell you, please. I could lose my position. Not just this one, but any work as a mediwitch anywhere ever again. Albus knows, or he must know, although he’s not said anything to me about it directly.”

“What? What did you do?”

“I made about half the staff sick. Very sick. We decided on the illness – something acute and nasty that I could induce and then treat easily. I pointed out that it would appear odd if only female staff members became ill, so Gertrude persuaded Slughorn to participate, without telling him why, but she called in every favour he owed her. Hagrid was easily convinced. Wilhelmina only had to tell him that it would help Albus, and he was willing. Our third male victim was Johannes, who disliked Valerianna intensely, and he knew why we were doing it without even being told. He’s a sharp one.

“I made everyone sick, even myself, mildly, and had us all have various degrees of the illness. Poor Sluggy was the worst off, and he was clueless about why he was submitting to it at the time, although he must have figured it out later. Anyway, with everyone so ill, Albus, as predicted, cancelled the staff meeting and left early for his cottage. He was back in less than an hour, looking like a thundercloud. He barely exchanged two words with anyone for days. Finally a little over a week later, he came to see me. He asked me if I’d had any trouble treating the staff who had all so coincidentally become ill at the same time. What could I say? He said he wished to thank me for the good care I had taken of them. He never mentioned it again. Gertie told me that he had apologised to her and told her that he had walked in on Valerianna and another wizard . . . in his own cottage. She never said what he’d walked in on, but it must not have been pleasant.”

Minerva just sat there in shock. She opened her mouth, but she didn’t know what to say, what to ask.

“That wasn’t the end of it, though, Minerva. I wasn’t present, but apparently Valerianna arrived at Hogwarts an hour early for the next Board of Governors meeting. I don’t know what happened, precisely, but someone told me that Valerianna tried to see Albus, and when he wouldn’t meet with her alone, she left the castle, shouting some nastiness, and then she resigned from the Board of Governors.”

“Poor Albus.” Minerva finally found her voice.

“Yes, but he was lucky, I think. From what Gertie said, Valerianna had turned on all her charm and wit. I don’t know how well Albus actually liked the witch, but she was gradually worming her way into his life. I think he would have eventually clued into her true character, but who knows how much more he would have invested in her before that happened, or how much more he may have been hurt. As it was, it must have been very embarrassing for him, particularly being aware that almost half the staff must have known something about it.”

“That must be why Gertie didn’t tell me more . . . it must be an uncomfortable thing to know, let alone to tell someone,” Minerva said.

“Probably. I also think it was better if you heard the whole thing from me. We have been friends a long time. She probably also didn’t want to mention my part in the plot, either. It was something none of us mentioned again once it was over. We never made a promise of secrecy, but it was just understood that it was something we didn’t talk about. This was Albus, after all.”


After a few moments of silence, Poppy said, “Let me get you some fresh tea, Min.”

She returned with a fresh pot and fixed Minerva another cup.

Minerva mechanically took a sip of the steaming liquid, then put the cup down, waiting for the tea to cool. It was even more of a puzzle to her now what Albus had been doing with the Yaxley witch, and Gertie’s motives were murky, as well. And why hadn’t Albus listened to Gertie? It would have saved him a good deal of pain and embarrassment.

“Why do you suppose Gertie did what she did? I understand that Albus wouldn’t listen to her, but there must have been some other way – as you said, he would have eventually discovered her true nature. . . .”

“If Gertie was correct, and Valerianna was going to use this weekend to try to get him to propose, it would have been a turning point. Anything after that would have been worse. He was only learning what he would have eventually, and if Valerianna were lucky, it may have been too late – or even if it weren’t can you imagine his embarrassment if they announced the engagement and then he found out and called it off? This way, only a few people really know what happened – I don’t even know all the details. We avoided a public embarrassment for Albus. The Prophet would have been all over it.”

“But what was Gertie’s motivation? If it didn’t turn out as she had thought it would, she could have alienated Albus.”

Poppy shook her head at Minerva. “She’s his friend, Minerva. She cares about him. I’ve always had the impression you don’t really like her, but she has been a good friend to Albus; surely, you can appreciate that! She got nothing out of it but the satisfaction of keeping Albus out of that nasty woman’s clutches. And, of course, his apology for not listening to her earlier.”

“Hmmpf. I suppose.” Minerva remembered Gertie’s foolish, stubborn insistence on playing Beater even after being knocked from her broom. She supposed it was possible she only wanted to keep him from getting himself in deeper with Valerianna. He had saved her son’s life, after all, and he was close enough to the family to have Robert call him “Uncle Albus.”

She drank some tea, then said, “That witch is really dreadful, Poppy. She was merely rude and catty at first, but then she made a scene at Walburga and Orion’s engagement party by announcing her own engagement to Francis Flint.”

“She didn’t!” Poppy exclaimed.

“She did. I actually felt sorry for Flint, and I don’t even like him.”

“Wasn’t he at Hogwarts with us? Kind of skinny Slytherin? Your year, I think?”

“No, he was a year ahead of me. I actually still can’t remember him, even after he reminded me who he was.”

“He was pretty unremarkable. But isn’t he . . . a bit young for her? She’s got to be in her early seventies, at least.”

“You’re the one who was encouraging Melina to continue seeing Brennan,” Minerva said.

“Yes, but this is a bigger age difference, and, well, Valerianna might still be able to have children for a few more years, but if Francis wants any, they’ll have to move fast. If she’s even still fertile.”

“I really don’t want to speculate about the state of that woman’s fertility,” Minerva said, making a face, “although I admit that the same thought did occur to me, actually.”

Poppy let Minerva drink some more tea, then said, “So you were going to tell me about why my advice to avoid her was good – and I hope you have a good reason for not following it!”

“She really was awful, Poppy. After she announced the engagement – staring at me the whole time, as though I would care – I thought that was the last I’d seen of her. But then she sent Flint over to ask me to dance.”

“She didn’t!”

“She did.”

“You didn’t, did you?”

“I did. I felt sorry for him, a little, and I was curious as to why she’d have him ask me to dance. I wanted to see what would happen.”

“Oh, Minerva!” Poppy groaned.

“It wasn’t so bad, except for his sweaty hands. He told me that Valerianna wanted an excuse to have Quin dance with her.”

“I don’t know Quin, but I feel sorry for him already.”

“I decided he was a big boy and could take care of himself.”

“So what was she up to?”

“A little while later, Quin went to get me something to drink. I stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. Valerianna followed me out. She was nasty and vicious, Poppy. I still don’t really understand what she was going on about, although now I understand better why she was so vituperative.”

“What did she say?”

“Oh, after telling me that Quin was off looking for a willing witch and implying that I’m a repressed old maid, she spewed a lot of rubbish about Albus. And about me. As though somehow Albus requires sycophantic followers and I was one of them. And she went on about how old Albus is, and how she had been ‘too much witch’ for him. Things like that. They sounded nastier coming out of her mouth.”

“It sounds nasty enough now. But why did she want you to dance with Flint – or, more to the point, why did she want to dance with Quin?”

Minerva laughed. “Would you believe she propositioned Quin?”

“What? But hadn’t she just announced her engagement? Or was that before the announcement?”

“Oh, no, she had already announced it. Quin said that she seemed to think he’d be more enticed by the fact that she was engaged. ‘Titillated’ was the word he used. Obviously, he didn’t take her up on it.”

“Is she attractive?”

“She’s all right. She has a nice figure, I suppose.” Minerva shrugged.

“I suppose if she is witty and amusing, the nice figure is icing on the cake for a wizard,” Poppy pondered.

“I would guess so.” Minerva was tired of thinking about Valerianna. She certainly didn’t want to talk about her anymore. She let out a groan. No wonder Albus had just sat there while she fished around, asking him if he knew Valerianna well. “Oh, Poppy, poor Albus.”

“I know. It could have been worse, though.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean that I brought Valerianna up in conversation this morning after I returned to the castle. We were having tea in my sitting room. I asked about her. It must have made him very uncomfortable.”

“No doubt it did, but you couldn’t have known.”

“I knew enough, Poppy. I knew that he’d dumped her, that she’s a nasty piece of work, that he didn’t want to talk about her . . . but I just kept going on about her, asking him if he knew her well, telling him about the engagement announcement – which, no doubt, was precisely what Valerianna wanted me to do – and just basically making him uncomfortable.”

“Well, it has been a few years. He should be over it. And you are friends, after all. On the other hand, I don’t suppose he could very well have said, ‘Oh, yes, Minerva, I dated the lovely witch for several months, after which I stopped seeing her because I caught her entertaining another wizard in my own cottage. How interesting you should mention her!’”

“That’s just what I mean, Poppy. I should have left the subject alone when it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. He must find it embarrassing still. I don’t like talking about Jean-Paul, after all, and that was only embarrassing because he was dull and . . . dull. And a dreadful lover.”

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

The second of two parts.

LXXVIII: A Conspiracy of Witches, continued

“And why don’t you ever talk about Rudolf? He wasn’t dull, from what you said, and you never said what kind of lover he was, but when I met him when I visited you – he seems to possess a great deal of energy, anyway. Not that that necessarily means anything, of course. But you don’t ever mention him, and you were together for at least a year.”

“That’s different, Poppy. I’m not embarrassed about having been with him . . . not exactly. It’s just because he did mean something to me, and I hurt him. I’m sure that Albus is the injured party here – and I never did anything to Rudolf to compare with what Valerianna did to Albus. I just couldn’t stay with him. There’s a big difference.”

“I know, but you’d survive if Albus brought up one of their names, that’s all I mean. You may not want to discuss them with him, but you’d just change the topic and then get over it.”

“I suppose you’re right. It just irks me that I played right into her hands, telling him about her engagement announcement as I did.”

“I’m sure it’s in the Prophet, though. It would have to be. I haven’t looked at it yet today, but Violet must have a copy somewhere.” She got up and crossed the room to a small table by the door. “Yes, here it is.” She flipped through to the society pages. “Yes, here, ‘At the engagement party for Walburga Black and Orion Black at the Gamp Estate, yet another engagement was announced, much to the surprise of the assembled guests,’” Poppy read. “It goes on to describe the general tastelessness of the gesture, but ends by congratulating both couples and wishing them well!”

She held out the paper. “You want to read it?”

“No, seeing it in person was sufficient. And I’m not surprised that the Prophet points out the tastelessness of the announcement only to follow it by congratulations. Trying not to alienate anyone and probably still managing to displease everyone involved, particularly Walburga and Orion, whose engagement party was once again upstaged by Valerianna’s announcement.”

“My point is that Albus would have heard the news, anyway, whether from the newspaper or from someone else.”

“Perhaps,” Minerva said. “But somehow I think she believed it would be worse for him coming from me. She certainly was obsessed by me. And she seemed to think I’m something special to him.”

“You are, Minerva. We had this conversation last week, if you remember.”

“Yes . . . .” Minerva sighed. “Would you mind giving my greetings to Violet, Poppy? I think I’d like to get back now. It’s been a long week.”

“Of course, but aren’t you going to tell me about Quin? He sounded rather nice.” Poppy grinned.

“Oh. Quin. He is nice. Yes. His son is going to be a first-year in September.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. We’re friends, he’s nice, his son is going to be a student. There’s nothing more to say. Well, his son has an interesting talent, but until I’ve talked more to Albus and to his father about it, I shouldn’t say any more than that.”

“Lovely! Do you always tease people by telling them only half the story?”

Minerva quirked half a grin. “Must be the company I’ve been keeping recently. I’ll stay in touch. And you, too. I’m just tired – it’s been a long week.”

“All right, Minerva.” Poppy stood, smiling. “I’ll walk you to the Hag’s Hump – or are you going to Apparate?”

“I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll just Floo to the Three Broomsticks.”

The two women walked together to the Hag’s Hump, Poppy telling Minerva about how much her niece and nephew had grown since she’d seen them last. When they got to the pub, Poppy said, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a drink?”

“No, I want to get back. Thanks for tea, Poppy. And for the information.” Minerva gave Poppy a hug. “You’re a good friend.”

“Of course, Minerva. Anything for you. I’m glad you could come.”

“Are you doing anything for your birthday next week? I thought we might be able to get together, if you like.”

“I’ll be at my grandmother’s, and I think they are planning on having a family gathering for lunch at her house – ”

“Well, when you know what they’re doing, let me know. If it’s lunch, I’ll take you to dinner, if it’s dinner, I’ll take you to lunch – or we could celebrate the next day.”

“That would be lovely, Minerva. I’d like that a lot. Are you going to do the same for Albus on his birthday?”

“What? Is his birthday coming up, too?”

“On the first. I don’t think he usually celebrates it, but I’m not usually at Hogwarts during August.”

“And you know because – ?”

“Because I’m the Hogwarts matron, of course. You didn’t know when his birthday is? Of course, I may be wrong, but I don’t think many people do. So, are you going to bring him to lunch?”

“I don’t know, Poppy. I didn’t even know when it was until today. I’m sure he has better things planned than lunch with his Transfiguration teacher.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t say that, Minerva. You’re friends; this would be another opportunity to get closer to Albus.”

There was that word again. Why did Poppy keep insisting that she and Albus were becoming closer? Minerva shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it. If I’m at Hogwarts at the time, maybe I will do something.”

Minerva deposited two Knuts in the Floo-Powder box and Flooed away to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks.

Before returning to the castle, Minerva stopped into Scrivenshaft’s and purchased some royal purple ink in an ornate, reusable inkpot, and a fancy autorefilling quill with a very plumy purple feather. She had the shopkeeper wrap them in a gift box for her. It wasn’t very personal, but she knew Albus liked that particular ink colour, and he’d been so generous to her recently, she didn’t want to wait until she found exactly the right gift before getting him something. She might find something special for his birthday. Hopefully, he would take this as the gesture she meant it to be – one of friendship and gratitude. Minerva felt especially bad after learning what she had about his relationship with Valerianna. Albus was by no means frail, nor was he prideful, but he still must have found it a blow to his ego to have that witch playing him for a fool. And she had unintentionally brought it all back up for him. She hoped that Albus would trust her enough to talk to her about it, but she understood why it could be uncomfortable for him.

Minerva walked through the village and started up to the castle gates, carefully carrying her package. She hoped Albus would like her little present. It would be dinnertime soon, and she could give it to him afterward, she thought with a smile.

As she walked the long path up to Hogwarts, Minerva thought about what she’d learned from Poppy that afternoon. It sounded to her as though Albus had been somewhat willfully blind to Valerianna’s faults, perhaps in reaction to Gertie’s attempts to warn him about them. Minerva knew that men could be foolish like that, but she hadn’t thought that Albus would be in that category. But perhaps it hadn’t been the warnings he had been ignoring, but Gertie herself. He had always asserted that Gertie was a good friend, and scarcely a visit to Minerva had gone by when he hadn’t mentioned her in one context or another, but perhaps Albus had some reason not to trust what she had to say on the subject of Valerianna. Minerva felt uneasy. Could it have been that she had been warning Albus against Valerianna not simply because she was a nasty, duplicitous wizard-eater, but because she wanted Albus to herself? Even if they were only friends, it was possible that Gertie had been jealous of the other witch. But if that were the case, why weren’t they together now? Although she had no proof one way or the other – it was possible she and Albus were together – after all, they spent a lot of time together as Headmaster and Deputy, and no one would necessarily know whether they were meeting on business or for some personal reason. Whatever gratitude Minerva felt toward Gertie for saving him from Valerianna was tempered with doubts about the older witch’s motivations in doing so.

Minerva walked through the gates, determined not to speculate any further on the matter. The Headmaster’s relationship with Gertrude was none of her business. She would look forward to giving Albus her little thank-you gift and spending some time with him over the next few days. She picked up her pace at the cheerful thought that she had rest of the summer to spend time with Albus and establish a solid friendship with him. That was certainly something to look forward to.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Albus was distracted at lunch, barely paying any attention to the peculiar three-way conversation between Wilhelmina, Johannes, and Hagrid. He had a feeling there was something going on with Hagrid, as Minerva had observed, but Albus was more concerned with something else at the moment.

Minerva had certainly seemed pleased to see him, and happy with her surprise, as well, but he had sensed a change in her as they were talking over their tea. She had brought up Valerianna’s name, and after she had mentioned Valerianna’s engagement, she continued to ask about her, whether he knew her. And his answer . . . was true as far as it went. He should have told her something more. He wouldn’t have had to go into great detail, but if she had heard something about how he had been courting Valerianna, his evasion would certainly seem odd to her. And who knew what Valerianna had told her. Albus didn’t know why he should be so reluctant to tell Minerva of the embarrassing incident. She would certainly be understanding and sympathetic. But somehow telling Minerva seemed impossible; he knew that he would never have a romantic relationship with her, but he still couldn’t bear having her look at him as a pathetic old man who’d been played for a fool.

Albus stood and left the table, his meal only half-eaten. He started up to his office, but changed his mind and turned around and went out the main doors. He hadn’t been out for a walk in the forest for a while. He wanted to check on Aragog and his many offspring. Hagrid kept an eye on him, “paid him visits,” as he put it, but Albus had cast a ward designed to keep Aragog confined to one section of the forest, and it needed refreshing occasionally.

An hour later, feeling refreshed himself after his walk, resetting Aragog’s ward, and a brief, yet civil, visit with Magorian, Albus returned to the castle. He went directly to Minerva’s rooms and was just about to give the password when the Silent Knight bowed to him.

“Good sir, my lady is not within.”

Peculiar. The Knight hadn’t spoken to him on any previous visit, even on other occasions when Minerva wasn’t present.

“I am aware of that. Alvarium album,” Albus said, giving the password. The door clicked and Albus pulled it open. “I will be connecting a new painting to your portrait. Your dog, Fidelio, will have access to it. You are to ensure that no other portraits attempt to gain access to the new landscape, with the exception of any headmaster or headmistress portraits, of course,” he added.

The Silent Knight bowed again and drew his sword. “I will defend the lady with my very life, sir.”

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Albus said, amused. “But your loyalty is appreciated.”

Albus first prepared the painting in the bedroom, then returned to the portrait and cast a few more charms before completing his work on the landscape. He spent a couple more minutes connecting the painting in the sitting room to the one in the bedroom so that the dog could move freely between them, as well.

Stepping back through the door for a moment, Albus asked the Knight to send Fidelio through to the bedroom, then he reentered the bedroom himself and was pleased to be greeted by the cheerfully barking dog sitting in the foreground of the painting, his tail thumping enthusiastically. Albus clapped his hands. “Good boy! Good dog! You can go back to your master now!”

He hadn’t been sure how quickly the dog could find the new painting, since he was not a conventional portrait of a person. Animals could be tricky to work with. Minerva would be pleased. Now he had to make a copy of the photograph he had promised her; he could do that over the weekend. Albus looked over at the vanity and Minerva’s collection of photographs. He thought she had been pleased by the offer, but perhaps she was only being polite. But then, looking at the carefully framed picture of him, clipped from a newspaper so many years ago, he decided that Minerva had been genuinely pleased. Her mug and what was left of the tea and honey were sitting on the vanity, as well, and it looked as though the letters he had written her were tucked beneath them. She must have unpacked before leaving for Wales. Just as he left the room, Albus turned and looked back. The tartan afghan he had given Minerva when she moved into the castle was neatly folded at the foot of her bed. He was fairly sure it hadn’t been there earlier, when he’d hung the landscape that morning. Had she brought that with her to Cornwall? Brought a little piece of home with her? He smiled. How sweet that the afghan he had given her gave her some comfort.

Albus returned to his office to finish some work before dinner. When he saw Minerva at dinner, he would tell her that he had connected the landscape to her portrait. The thought of seeing her again made him uncomfortable. What if she brought up Valerianna again? When he had finally had the time to read the Prophet just before lunch, he had seen that Valerianna’s performance the night before had not gone unnoticed by the press.

Albus set down his quill with a deep sigh. He would thank Gertie again for having forced him to confront the true Valerianna Yaxley, but he didn’t want to bring it up again. It was bad enough to have heard her name from Minerva’s lips that morning. It made him wonder what Valerianna had said to Minerva, what she knew about the affair, and whether she knew what had happened between them at the end, and if she had lost her respect for him as a result. Just when their friendship had begun to warm up, Minerva had to learn about his foolishness. Although it was possible that she had heard about it before; it was conceivable that one of her friends on the staff had already told her about it, or that she had learned of it even before she had joined the staff.

He and Gertie hadn’t spoken of it in almost three years. Albus held his head in his hands. He had behaved dreadfully to Gertie when she had tried to warn him about her late husband’s cousin. The final attempt she’d made to speak to him about it, when she had tried to tell him gently that Valerianna had an agenda and wasn’t interested in him as a wizard, but only wanted something from him, had resulted in him turning on her angrily and telling her that she had no right to tell him with whom he could and could not socialise, that it was not her place. And, angry as he was, the sudden tears in his normally stoic friend’s eyes had done nothing to soften him toward her. Gertie had just gritted her teeth, nodded, and left his quarters without another word. The next day, she behaved as though nothing had happened between them, though she was quieter than usual with him. Their relationship had been strained, but he found that Gertie had not held his harsh words against him, and when she hadn’t raised Valerianna’s name again, Albus thought Gertie had let the entire matter go. But she hadn’t. And Albus was very glad she hadn’t. Who knew what the Daily Prophet would have printed if he had discovered this in some more public way? As it was, Albus was still astounded that the press hadn’t caught wind of it and published some little blurb in the column devoted to such things – to public humiliation, in particular.

When Albus had finally gone to see Gertrude, two days after finding Valerianna as he had, she had been the first to speak. He had gone to apologise to her, but she had taken his hands in hers and said, “I’m so sorry, Albus. So sorry. I wish I had been wrong.”

Oddly, he hadn’t wished Gertie had been wrong – not that he wouldn’t have preferred to have been spared that final scene, of course. For all that he had enjoyed spending time with Valerianna, at least initially, he still hadn’t truly been able to warm up to her. He actually had believed that that weekend would provide him the opportunity to warm up to her and to warm her up to him. Instead, their relationship had gone from tepid to icy in seconds. With, of course, the intervening heat of his blazing anger.

“Wilspy!”

“I serve!” Wilspy said as she popped into his office.

“Wilspy, I have a headache.”

“Hot tea and Headache Potion, Professor Dumbledore, sir?”

Albus smiled. “Let’s start with the hot tea and see if that fixes all my ills, first. Thank you, Wilspy.”

Wilspy frowned. “You is ill, Professor Dumbledore?”

“No, no, it was just a figure of speech, Wilspy. You may fetch the tea now.”

A few minutes later, Wilspy reappeared with a pot of tea, a small pitcher of milk, and a container of honey. There was also a small vial of Headache Potion.

“Thank you, Wilspy.”

“Professor Dumbledore, can I serve Professor more? You is sad.”

“No, not sad, Wilspy. Just old and tired,” Albus said patiently.

“You is not old, Professor,” Wilspy said, shaking her head at him, sounding as though she were scolding a small boy. “You drink good tea, then see Professor’s nice Professor Minerva, and you feel all better.”

“Hmm? Minerva has gone to visit a friend for the afternoon, Wilspy.”

“She is coming back now, Professor. You feel better after tea and seeing your Professor Minerva.”

“I will see her at dinner, no doubt. Thank you for the tea, Wilspy. That will be all.”

“Okey-dokey, Professor! You see your Professor Minerva, you feel all better!” Then the little elf popped away.

Albus shook his head. Foolish little house-elf. He sipped his tea, then finally gave in and downed the Headache Potion. He would see Minerva – briefly – at dinner. He would not monopolise her time. He would see her, “feel better,” as Wilspy had put it, then retire early. Maybe read the book he had borrowed from her. That would be a pleasant way to end the day.

Note: I hope you all enjoyed this installment. There will be another one along in a few days. Next, "Hot, Cold, and Tepid."

[Hogwarts Duo]

Yay…we finally get more of the puzzle pieces…wheeee! *Doing a happy dance now!!* ;D

I’m glad Poppy was so honest with Minerva and shared with her the wretched details about Valerianna and Albus’ relationship and more importantly how it ended. I can’t believe he was so foolish and yet I can believe it because he’s so trusting of people. It’s a good thing he has staff members who love him and want only the best for him.

Too bad Albus is still beating himself up over the incident and wouldn’t open up to Minerva about it. I think it goes a long way in showing how he views their relationship. He couldn’t even admit to Minerva that he had been seriously involved with her and she had to hear it from someone else…thankfully someone we can trust.

The gift Minerva bought Albus was so cute. I hope he’ll enjoy it and accept it in the manner in which it was bought…awwww. And the icing on the cake is Wilspy. I love how he refers to Minerva as Professor Dumbledore’s Minerva. That’s just so adorable!!! Make sure he never gets any articles of clothing! We want to keep him around for a loooooong time!!!! ;D

Thanks for the update!

[MMADfan]

hogwartsduo said:

Yay…we finally get more of the puzzle pieces…wheeee! *Doing a happy dance now!!* ;D

I’m glad Poppy was so honest with Minerva and shared with her the wretched details about Valerianna and Albus’ relationship and more importantly how it ended. I can’t believe he was so foolish and yet I can believe it because he’s so trusting of people. It’s a good thing he has staff members who love him and want only the best for him.

Too bad Albus is still beating himself up over the incident and wouldn’t open up to Minerva about it. I think it goes a long way in showing how he views their relationship. He couldn’t even admit to Minerva that he had been seriously involved with her and she had to hear it from someone else…thankfully someone we can trust.

The gift Minerva bought Albus was so cute. I hope he’ll enjoy it and accept it in the manner in which it was bought…awwww. And the icing on the cake is Wilspy. I love how he refers to Minerva as Professor Dumbledore’s Minerva. That’s just so adorable!!! Make sure he never gets any articles of clothing! We want to keep him around for a loooooong time!!!! ;D

Thanks for the update!

I'm glad you like it. And that it gave you an opportunity to do a happy dance! But Wilspy is a girl house-elf. Of course, since she doesn't use the third-person to refer to herself, it's hard to tell! LOL! I like how she feels free to scold him. She probably wants to hit the two of them over the head! She tried doing her bit by creating the "draft" to blow his parchments about. Now she's trying to hint to Albus about Minerva, but he just doesn't get it! Wilspy will be around for a long, long time.

I've been looking forward to revealing Poppy's secret mission since the beginning of the story, so this was a fun chappie to write!

[elivania]

Brilliant additions as usual. Can't wait for more! *Eli*

[MMADfan]

Note: Thank you, Eli and Ang, for your comments! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, "A Conspiracy of Witches," and hope this one also pleases. ;D

LXXIX: Hot, Cold, and Tepid

Minerva walked more briskly as she approached the castle’s large front doors, looking forward to seeing Albus and giving him his present. Dinner would be served in the staff room in less than a half hour. She would wait for him there; as much as she was looking forward to seeing whether Albus had found the time to connect the new landscape painting to her door portrait. Unless he’d been interrupted by something of vital importance, Minerva thought he would have done it as he had promised. And if he hadn’t been able to, she wouldn’t pout like a child.

Picking up a two-month-old copy of Spellcrafter’s Digest, Minerva settled down in one of the large armchairs in the far corner of the room, putting her feet up on a small stool. She held Albus’s present in her lap. Albus was usually on time for dinner because he didn’t like keeping everyone waiting for him to arrive. Minerva hoped he would be early that evening; she might be able to give him his little gift before dinner, if he were, although she didn’t want an audience. Ten minutes later, that hope disappeared as Johannes and Wilhelmina came in together. They both greeted her and asked her where she’d been the last few days. When Minerva told them she had been at the Gamps, they immediately wanted to know about Valerianna and her announcement, Johannes throwing a glance toward the door.

Minerva described Valerianna’s performance, how she had dragged a reluctant Francis Flint out in front of everyone, including a baffled Gropius, and how the guests had been shocked and Flint embarrassed.

“I hope she was embarrassed, as well,” said Wilhelmina. “She’s one foul character.”

“I got the impression she was more angry than embarrassed, although I didn’t talk with her about it, of course. But that was what Flint implied.”

“You talked to Francis?” Wilhelmina shook her head. “He was never particularly independent when he was a student, but I wouldn’t have thought him to be the type to be pulled into Valerianna’s orbit, either.”

“It sounded to me as though he hadn’t been sure they were even going to be engaged, actually, and she just declared it by fiat, and it was so,” Minerva responded. She remembered that Wilhelmina and Johannes had both been involved in the conspiracy to help Albus, and thought they were probably more interested in the subject because of that. She considered telling them about Valerianna’s failed attempt to seduce Quin right after announcing the engagement, but decided that such gossip was beneath her. If Albus asked her about it, though, she would tell him whatever he wanted to know.

“That sounds like Valerianna,” Johannes remarked.

“I’d say I hope she is miserable in her marriage, but that would mean wishing the same on Francis,” Wilhelmina added.

“Yes, well, I had my fill of the witch over the last few days, so why don’t we discuss something more pleasant? How are your plans proceeding, Wilhelmina? Have you made arrangements with the sanctuary yet?” Minerva asked, not wanting Albus to walk in and find them all discussing one of his least favourite people.

Wilhelmina updated Minerva on her current plans; she had arranged with the dragon sanctuary to begin work on the twentieth of December. “It’s a bit late in the year, but that way I can get through the entire semester, finish all my grading, and hopefully even spend some time with the new teacher to help make the transition smoother.”

“I will keep that in mind when we interview candidates,” Minerva said.

“You’re helping with that?” Wilhelmina asked.

“Yes, the Headmaster asked me to lend a hand with it. Gertie’s in Cornwall, and he’s very busy, so I was happy to help with it. Of course, it won’t be my decision, but I can weed out the obviously unsuitable candidates.”

They talked for a few minutes about the changes the upcoming year would bring to Hogwarts, then Hagrid arrived, mumbled a greeting, and sat down at the table waiting for dinner to be served. Minerva got up and moved to sit next to him, hoping that the chair on her other side would remain empty for Albus. Wilhelmina sat across from Hagrid and Johannes sat next to her, across from Minerva. A few moments later, Albus bustled into the staff room.

“I’m sorry if I am late!” he said, taking a seat next to Wilhelmina. Their dinner appeared promptly.

“You’re not late, Albus,” Johannes answered. “You’re a little early, in fact. And I do not complain about that, if they feed us early, too!”

Minerva wanted to talk to Albus, but it was awkward with the others sitting between them, so she just joined the general conversation flowing around her, adding a word or two at appropriate moments, but not paying very much attention to it. Beside her, Hagrid was even more monosyllabic. It appeared that whatever had been bothering him before she’d left for the Gamps had not improved much in the meantime. She suspected that Wilhelmina’s early morning visit to him was connected to his persistently melancholy mood; perhaps she had noticed, too, and had gone down to try to get him to talk to her about it. But, just as Hagrid had insisted to her that there was nothing wrong, it appeared he wouldn’t talk to Wilhelmina about it, either. Minerva took some pudding even though she didn’t really want it, since she wanted to catch Albus before he headed back to his tower.

Albus pushed away from the table and said good-night to everyone, then turned to Minerva and said, “I finished up with your door portrait this afternoon, Professor McGonagall.”

Minerva stood. “Thank you. May I speak with you a minute?”

“Of course, my dear. Are you free in the morning? We could meet for a few minutes then.”

“Oh, it’s not that sort of thing,” she answered, reaching for the bag she’d put under her chair. “I just wanted a minute this evening, if you could.”

“Certainly. I will walk you to your rooms, then, and we can talk on the way – we can even test the portrait,” he said with a smile.

Minerva followed him out of the staff room and started up the stairs next to him.

“Can you come in for a few minutes, Albus? We could test the portrait and we can talk for a while.”

“Oh, my dear, you certainly don’t want to entertain me twice in one day. After your long day yesterday, and your outing today, I’m sure you would like a quiet evening.”

“Albus, if you would rather not, please just tell me. I will be disappointed, but I’ll live.”

“No, no, I would like to, Minerva. Of course . . . I was just thinking of you.”

“If I didn’t want to invite you in, I would not have. I know that we spent a good deal of time together before my holiday, and I will understand if we aren’t able to do the same in the future because you are busy – or because you are tired or just want to be alone – but I hope that you will tell me that. I don’t want you to feel obligated to spend time with me if you don’t want to, but I’d rather you just told me.” Minerva was surprised by her own frankness, but after all the events of the last week, particularly the conversation in which she’d told Albus that she would express herself to him before she became as distressed as she had in Poppy’s office, she saw no point in mincing words. She would certainly be disappointed if he didn’t want to come in, whatever the reason, but she’d rather he were honest about it than make excuses.

“I can come in for a few minutes, Minerva. But you must shoo me out if you become tired!” He smiled at her, eyes twinkling.

They reached her door, and Albus suggested, “You go on in to your bedroom, and I’ll knock.”

Minerva let herself in and went into her bedroom. A moment later, Fidelio was standing in the landscape, barking cheerfully. Minerva laughed. “Good boy, Fidelio!”

She let Albus into the sitting room. “He came through, looking quite pleased with himself, Albus. Thank you!”

“Oh, it was nothing, just a few minutes and a little wand-waving,” he said, but he looked pleased that Minerva appreciated his gift.

“I have a little something for you, Albus. A little ‘thank-you’ for everything you’ve done for me lately.”

“That was hardly necessary, Minerva.”

“Well, as you said when you gave me that lovely gift before I left for the Gamps, that’s why it’s a surprise. I hope you like it.”

“Thank you, my dear. Shall I open it now?”

“Yes – go ahead. It’s nothing special . . . but I hoped you might like it.”

“As you told me earlier, if it is from you, it is special,” he said, smiling.

Albus put the package on the table and carefully unwrapped the brown paper to reveal a purple cardboard box with “Scrivenshaft’s” written in ornate white letters. Smiling, he took the top off the box.

“Lovely, my dear! This is my favourite ink. And a lovely new matching quill to go with it.” He turned to face her. “Thank you. It is most thoughtful of you.”

“I thought it was something you might use and enjoy.” Minerva smiled. “I hope you do enjoy it.”

“I am sure I will, my dear. I will try it tonight.”

“Would you like something to drink, Albus?”

“No, thank you. I really should be going, Minerva.”

“Oh, all right.” Minerva was disappointed, but she had said that he must simply be honest with her, after all. “Perhaps tomorrow?”

“Perhaps. We will see. We did get a few applications for Wilhelmina’s position; you could come by and take a look at them, if you like.”

“Of course. Good night, Albus.”

“Good night, my dear. I hope you sleep well.”

Minerva nodded and opened the door for him. He left with a smile and another “good night.” Minerva closed the door behind him. She felt inexplicably disappointed. It wasn’t as though she’d had any plans for the evening, but she had hoped they could sit and talk for a while. Now she felt at loose ends. She looked at her bookshelves, but saw nothing that caught her interest.

With a casual wave of her wand, Minerva cleared away the brown paper Albus’s gift had been wrapped in, then looked out the window, which gave her a thin slice of a view of the lawns leading out to the Quidditch pitch. Hagrid was walking in the direction of the gates, Brutus, his old boarhound, at his side. Perhaps he was just checking the gates, but more likely he was going into the Hog’s Head for a drink. Minerva felt guilty. She should have paid more attention to him during dinner. And given the way Albus had come and gone so quickly, she could have just handed him his present in the front hall and waited for Hagrid to leave dinner. They could have had a drink together in her rooms, and she might even have discovered what was bothering him.

She had no desire to go to the Hog’s Head that evening, which she understood was Hagrid’s preferred pub, but she could go see Wilhelmina. She might know what was troubling Hagrid. Besides, Minerva hadn’t seen the Head of Gryffindor recently. And if she was going to consider becoming the next Head of House, she should pay the current Head a visit.

Minerva walked up the stairs to the seventh-floor rooms of the Gryffindor Head of House. They were not the same quarters that Albus had had when Minerva was a student. He had apparently been given those quarters because of the sensitive work he was doing on the wards and, later, for the war against Grindelwald. Minerva thought the current House Head’s quarters, which she remembered Albus’s predecessor had used during her first year at Hogwarts, were much more suitable, since they were closer to the Gryffindor common room. It enabled the Head of House to reach the Gryffindor dormitories much more quickly – and it would be easier for the Gryffindor prefects to find her, if necessary.

Her visit with Wilhelmina was pleasant, but she didn’t stay long. Other than saying that she, too, had noticed that Hagrid seemed unhappy recently, Wilhelmina had nothing enlightening to say about what may have been bothering him. She did, however, encourage Minerva to take the Head of House position and told her that the two of them should to get together and talk about it once she had made a decision. Wilhelmina also thought it would be a good idea for Minerva to become Head of House right from the first of September, rather than waiting for Wilhelmina to leave in December.

“We could work out the living arrangements with Albus, I’m sure,” Wilhelmina said. “I wouldn’t mind moving to another set of rooms at the end of August. Or, if you prefer and it’s all right with the Headmaster, you could keep your current rooms and move up here in December.”

Before Minerva left, she told Wilhelmina that she was still not sure she would take the position, but that she would let her know as soon as she had made a decision and had informed the Headmaster. They could talk about the Head of House quarters if she decided to accept it.

Minerva had not yet reached the stairs when she saw a familiar figure walking toward her.

“Albus?”

“Good evening, Minerva!”

“I hadn’t expected to see you again this evening.” She smiled.

“I decided to try the excellent ink you gave me, my dear. It is wonderfully brilliant, and the quill is quite nice – it has a variable width charm on it. I had fun with that!” he said with a grin. “But then I decided to do something more practical than doodle, so I wrote a letter – I was just off to the Owlery to post it.”

Minerva smiled. “I’m glad you like it, Albus.”

“And you, my dear?”

“Just paid a brief visit to Wilhelmina. I thought I might take a walk before retiring. Would you like to join me?”

“Thank you, but no. I think I’ll just post my letter then toddle off to bed.”

“All right, then. Perhaps breakfast in the morning?”

“I don’t know . . .” Albus hesitated. “You could come by later in the morning, if you wish, and look at the responses we have received to the advertisements. There aren’t many yet, but if you want to get a start on them . . . .”

“Are you feeling well, Albus?”

“Fine, just fine! Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that it’s a bit early for bed yet, and you seem . . . preoccupied.”

“I am fine. I am a little tired, but I also thought I’d have a quiet night, read the novel I borrowed from you, and then get up early tomorrow and take care of some parchments that arrived by late Post Owl from the Wizengamot. But I am well.” He smiled. “And you might consider an early night, as well, my dear, after your tiring day yesterday.”

“You are right, Albus. It has been a tiring few days. Good night.” Minerva turned and hurried down the stairs, barely noticing the Headmaster calling good-night behind her.

She was upset. It wasn’t that Albus was tired and wanted to retire early – she could understand and accept that – but that he had expressed no regret that he didn’t feel up to a walk with her, and then he hadn’t accepted breakfast in the morning, nor even offered any alternative but for her to stop by the office to look at the applications. He hadn’t even made it sound like an excuse to spend time with her. How could he blow hot and cold like that? His letters, particularly the first one, enclosed with the tea he’d given her, had been so sweet. How could he claim to have missed her and then seem so ambivalent about spending time with her? Was it something she’d said or done that morning? She could think of nothing else that could explain this behaviour. But right then, she didn’t care what it was she may have said. He wasn’t telling her; he was simply avoiding her. And she wasn’t going to sit in her rooms and pout all weekend.

Minerva went to her bedroom and pulled her carpet bag from her wardrobe. She grabbed a handful of underwear and dropped it into the bag, then stuffed a few random robes in on top. She looked around and saw the tea that Albus had given her. No point in taking that. The afghan . . . but she wasn’t a child who needed a security blanket or a stuffed Puffskein in order to fall asleep in the dark, after all. She did pull Pnin from her bookshelf and add that to her bag. She would need nothing else.

Minerva had one more thing to do before she left; she stood at her small desk and wrote a quick note, then rolled the parchment and sealed it with emerald green wax.

“Blampa! Blampa! Come here, please.”

Minerva hadn’t finished calling the house-elf and she appeared.

“Yes, Professor Minerva ma’am? Can I, Blampa, serve?”

“Yes. Please see that the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, receives this in the morning. I believe he has retired for the night, so don’t bother him with it now. You may either owl it to him or have Wilspy, his house-elf, deliver it. Just see to it he receives it first thing in the morning, all right?”

Blampa quivered with the excitement of being entrusted with a new task. “Yes, Professor Minerva! I, Blampa, see that the Professor Headmaster gets letter in the morning! Yes, yes!”

“Good. See that you do. I will be gone for a few days, Blampa, so do not expect to be called by me during that time. But if I learn that you have not sent the letter to Professor Dumbledore as I requested, I will be most displeased.”

“Oh, Professor Minerva! Professor Minerva not be displeased with I, Blampa! I, Blampa, please the good Professor Minerva.”

“That will be all, Blampa,” she said wearily, dismissing the house-elf.

When the house-elf had Apparated away, Minerva left her rooms. She hesitated, wondering whether she should change her password, then decided against it. It was unlikely that Albus would need to enter her rooms again while she was gone, but if he were to try, she might appear childish if she had changed the password without telling him.

Minerva hastened to the Hogwarts gates. As soon as she passed through them, she Apparated away with barely a thought to her destination.

Note: The next chapter should be up in a few days. Next, we see how Albus reacts when he gets Minerva's note, and we learn where Minerva has gone.

[Hogwarts Duo]

UGH!!! I could pinch Albus' little head off sometimes. He can be so incredibly sweet to Minerva and then in the very next moment he pulls back, letting his mind take over when his heart was doing a fantastic job all by itself. It's no wonder Minerva doesn't know which way is up with him...sheesh!!!

I'm very glad Minerva is going away without telling Albus in advance. Maybe when he decides to make time for her and realizes she's gone, he'll think twice about being such a jerk to her. GRRRRR!!!!

Fantastic update and hurry up with the next bit so we can see what happens when Blamps delivers Minerva's letter....wheee.

[Alesia]

Okay so I totally think Minerva is overreacting here. Albus was honest with her about what he wanted to do which is exactly what Minerva was with Albus after dinner and exactly what she said she wanted him to be.

I can't wait to find out where Minerva went but I will lay money it is to Quin.

Also I have a question - Professor MacAirt? Was that Quin's grandmother? I will have to go back and find the cast list again.

[sevherfan]

Ohhh - I do hope she goes to see her mom and dad. I must confess to starting to reread from scratch last night because I miss the daily updates. And I had forgotten how wonderfully awesome Minerva's father is! My favorite line was "Merwyn grinned. 'No, but I’m still making up my mind about the unrequited love angle. If I could only figure out which side was unrequited,' he teased." Mmmm, and this time I hope Albus will go get her. I like Albus and her Dad together. And he is quite the sharp one. Might make a couple comments in front of them.

[esoterica1693]

She does seem to be overreacting and going a bit squirrel-cagey, IMO, but love and infatuation can do that.....not that I recognize the pattern from experience or anything...oh, no....

Looking forward to the next bit very much!

[Lady Lavendar]

This story is so wonderful! I can't believe Albus. He missed her than he distances himself from her. Guys are so dumb! Then again Minerva has some explaining to do. She wants him to be honest, and when he is she just can't get over what he said. I can't wait till the next update! You still have me wondering about Gertie's motives. Does she want him or does she want Albus and Minerva to be together?

[Merriam]

Albus is so OBLIVIOUS--it bugs me! Anyway, great story, I love it and am looking forward to a quick update. *hint*
I'm new, kind of, and this is the first story I've reviewed. I just couldn't help myself; it's that wonderful.
Thanks for a fabulous chapter, as always,
Merriam

[MMADfan]

Thanks, everyone, for the comments on "Hot, Cold, and Tepid"! I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!

Here's the next chapter, a little early! Posted in two parts.

LXXX: The Comforts of Home

Albus woke early Friday morning, shoved his sheet aside, rolled over, and sat up. Blinking sleepily, he waved his hand to open the heavy draperies covering the south- and east-facing windows of his bedroom. He sat there a moment, legs dangling over the side of his bed and wiggling his toes, before standing and looking out the window to the south, where mist was rising so thickly off the water that the lake was hidden beneath the fog. It had rained overnight, but it looked as though the sun was beginning to break through the clouds.

Wilspy popped into the bedroom with his first cup of tea of the day.

Albus took the cup from the house-elf. “Thank you, Wilspy.”

Wilspy held out a rolled parchment sealed with green wax. “Letter for you, Professor Dumbledore. From your Professor Minerva.”

“Put it on the night stand for now, Wilspy.”

Albus shuffled off to the bathroom, bringing his tea with him. After taking care of his morning routine and finishing his cup of tea, he returned to the bedroom, feeling more awake. He perched on the edge of the bed and put on his glasses. Perhaps the note from Minerva was another invitation to breakfast; it was difficult to conceive what else might require letter delivery so early in the morning. He was not sure he was ready to face her yet, knowing that Valerianna could very well have said things to Minerva that were calculated to cause him embarrassment. He didn’t know if he were prepared to talk about Valerianna with Minerva – well, he did know, and he wasn’t ready – nor whether he was prepared to spend time with her alone in such an intimately domestic activity as having breakfast. He had decided to spare both himself and Minerva any danger of him betraying his feelings. Or to have those feelings grow beyond what they already were. He had to maintain a simple friendship, he told himself. Simple friendship, uncomplicated by his inappropriate feelings.

He broke the seal on the parchment, and, despite himself, his heart sunk as he read its contents.

“Thursday, 11 July

“Dear Professor Dumbledore,

“I am going to my parents for a few days. As you suggested, I am taking the opportunity to spend some time away from the castle.

“I hope you have a pleasant weekend.

“Minerva M. McGonagall”

Brief and to the point. And very cool. A note from an employee to her employer. He sighed and put the letter back on the night stand. She apparently had no desire to spend more time in the castle with him, despite her words the previous morning. It had seemed to him that she had wanted to stay at Hogwarts for much of the summer, and, despite his hope that Minerva would take the opportunity to get out and socialise with a suitable wizard, and his unease with what she had no doubt learned about his relationship with Valerianna, Albus had hoped she would be around the castle during the daytime, when he could see her and spend a little time with her, himself.

Albus shook his head. He should have done that yesterday. Minerva had been there and available. And she had invited him to spend time with her. Too late now.

Not putting much thought into his choice of apparel, Albus dressed, putting on lightweight robes of lilac and indigo. Odd, that Minerva hadn’t mentioned anything to him about visiting her parents the night before, when they had met as he’d been on his way to post his letter to Gertie. Perhaps that was why Minerva had invited him to take a walk with her, she was going to tell him then. But she could have told him just as easily as they were standing there in the hall. Instead, she had simply hurried off. He looked at the letter again. She must have left immediately after they had talked. It was peculiar. Minerva had seemed so eager to stay yesterday. Something must have changed that. Her visit to Poppy – had they talked about Valerianna? Had the two of them had quite a giggle about the old wizard who had made a fool of himself? But Minerva seemed to think Valerianna was quite unlikeable . . . they probably speculated about what he had seen in her, what had caused him to be with a witch of her ilk. He had wondered that, himself, at the time.

Albus spent the morning trying to work, but was unsuccessful at getting very much accomplished. Lunch was a quiet affair with only Wilhelmina taking lunch in the staff room with him. Johannes was visiting friends for the day, and Hagrid apparently had had a rather late night and wasn’t up yet. Albus thought he should speak with Hagrid if he didn’t snap out of his mood soon. He would give him another few days before interfering, though. But Minerva . . . he couldn’t give that situation another few days. He had to learn what was on her mind, and if her opinion of him had been lowered now that she knew of his brief relationship with Valerianna. Albus didn’t care terribly what others might think about his ill-advised entanglement with the witch, even if he did prefer not to have his private life the subject of public speculation, but he didn’t want Minerva to think less of him. Her opinion was the only one that mattered to him, as foolish as that was.

It shouldn’t matter to him, of course. He should simply concern himself with her happiness, and her happiness certainly didn’t rely on her opinion of him. No, he should see to it that she had the opportunity to get out and meet a nice wizard. Quin, despite Minerva’s protestations, sounded perfect for her. He was attractive, successful, a good father; they would complement one another well.

Nonetheless, Albus didn’t think that he could wait to find out what was bothering Minerva. Telling Wilhelmina that he would be gone, possibly for the rest of the day, and asking her to watch the castle, he returned to his office and picked up the applications for the Care of Magical Creatures Position. There were only four, including one that had arrived that morning, but it would provide him an excuse to visit her. She might ask why he didn’t simply owl them, but he could talk to her about what criteria he wanted her to look for when reviewing the applications.

Albus walked down to the gates and Apparated to the McGonagalls, just as Minerva had the night before.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

“Minerva! What a wonderful surprise!” Egeria exclaimed when Minerva walked into the library looking for her parents.

“Hello, Mother.” Minerva kissed her cheek. “Where’s Dad?”

“His study, I think – he got up muttering something about Saxon phonemes a few minutes ago, and you know how he is when he gets like that. He could be two minutes or two hours. But what about you? How long are you here for?”

“Oh, just a few days”

“We thought that you wouldn’t be visiting for another couple of weeks – not that I’m not happy to see you, of course, dear, but what are you doing here?”

“I just needed a few more days away from Hogwarts, Mother. I don’t know if you’ve heard from Melina, but I was invited to the Gamps for a few days, and – ”

“Oh! Were you there when the Yaxley woman announced her engagement?”

“Yes, Mother. But there wasn’t much more to it than the Prophet reported, I’m sure.”

“What a pity. I was wondering what Florence Flint’s daughter had been doing since her husband died.”

“You know her? She’s a Flint?”

“I knew her mother; she was four years ahead of me in Slytherin. Beautiful girl. She left school after her OWLs and married Benjamin Crouch two weeks later. Valerianna was born nine months after that. They were quick about it!”

“But if her mother was a Flint . . . she must be related to Francis. She must be an older relative of his.” Minerva’s face was a picture of revulsion.

“We all intermarry, dear, some families more than others, of course.”

“Yes, but . . .”

“I was Francis’s mother’s midwife. She was a Longbottom. His father was Valerianna’s cousin on her mother’s side. I don’t think he was a first cousin, though. Perhaps a first cousin once removed?” Egeria knit her brow, trying to remember how Francis’s father was related to Valerianna.

“Still . . .” Minerva shuddered.

“But tell me, what brings you home?”

“Yes, Min! What brings you home?” asked her father from behind her.

“Dad!” Minerva turned and smiled at her father.

Merwyn gave his youngest child a hug. “What’s my Minnie-girl doing home?”

“I just needed some time away from the school, that’s all.”

“A long first term, then?” he asked sympathetically.

She grinned wryly. “You could say that, Dad. And the last week has been particularly long, despite the students’ having left more than two weeks ago.”

Merwyn gave her another hug, then said, “The comforts of home will have you feeling like yourself in no time, then, Min, won’t they, Egeria?”

“They certainly will,” she said as she stood. “Sweetness, why don’t you go on up and get ready for bed, and I’ll come in and say good-night in a bit, hmm?”

“All right, Mother,” Minerva said with a slight smile. Sometimes it was nice to come home and be treated like a little girl again. She hugged her mother tightly and felt tears well up in her eyes; she blinked them away and swallowed before letting go. “Good night, Dad.”

“’Night, Minnie-girl.” He gave her another kiss before she left, then turned to his wife.

“Ah, Egeria.” Merwyn took his wife in his arms, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, love?” she asked.

“Probably. I had wondered how long it would take . . . .”

“Do you think her heart is broken, then?”

“I don’t know . . . I hope not. Not yet, I don’t think. If her heart were broken, I think she would appear more distressed, I don’t think this is where she would go.”

“Where, then, if not home?”

“A friend . . . Melina, perhaps.”

Egeria nodded and sighed. “I’ll go up and see her. Maybe she’ll talk to me about it.”

“You can try, but you know our Min. Don’t be disappointed if she behaves as if nothing were wrong at all.”

“It’s not inevitable, is it, Merwyn? That our baby’s heart will be broken?”

“I don’t know. It needn’t be, but she is not the only one involved, after all.” Merwyn gave his wife a light kiss, then followed it by another, and for a moment, the two forgot what they had been talking about. “Mmm. That was nice. I look forward to more of the same later.”

Egeria laughed. “If you are still awake when I come to bed, I will most certainly look forward to more!”

After Egeria left, Merwyn poured himself a whisky and sat in his favourite wingchair, feet up in front of him. Had this been inevitable? He was flooded with memories from years ago. Minerva’s Animagus training, meeting Albus in the Three Broomsticks, teasing Minerva about unrequited love, and then Albus’s letter requesting Minerva’s early return to Hogwarts.

Merwyn smiled, remembering Minerva’s excitement and nervousness about returning to Hogwarts a few days before the term began. And then Albus arrived to Apparate her back to the school. . . .

Minerva had always been very bad at Side-Along-Apparition, almost invariably becoming sick to her stomach. But Albus performed some type of diagnostic spell on Merwyn, because Apparating with her father wasn’t as hard on Minerva as it was when she Apparated with others, then Albus repeated the spell on her. Minerva later told them that she hadn’t become sick at all. But that was not what had been so remarkable about the Apparition. Merwyn remembered how Albus told Minerva to step closer to him and listen to his heart; without hesitation, Merwyn’s normally reticent daughter stepped in and laid her head against the wizard’s chest, closing her eyes trustingly, a look of contentment on her face as she listened for Albus’s heartbeat, and a slight smile on Albus’s own. There was something right, natural, and timeless in their embrace.

After the two vanished in the only silent Apparition Merwyn ever witnessed, Egeria said, “I thought you were just teasing about the unrequited love.”

“So did I.”

“Do you think either of them knows?”

“Not a clue, either of them.”

“What should we do, Merwyn?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing to be done . . . but don’t worry, love, I believe Albus to be an honourable wizard.”

They stood there for a while longer, pondering their youngest child, their only daughter, then turned to go back into the house.

“So, on which side do you think it is unrequited?” Egeria asked.

Merwyn just shook his head and said, “We may never know. It may pass. She is young yet, and I am sure that Albus has no intentions toward her at the moment. Certainly none that he recognises, anyway, other than those of a mentor and teacher. It may all pass quite peacefully and unremarkably.”

“But you don’t believe that,” Egeria said.

“If she takes after you, no, I don’t.”

“Or after you, Merwyn.”

And then, three and a half years later, Minerva showed up on their doorstep, telling them only that she was taking time off from her job at the Ministry. She went to her friend’s funeral, and a couple days later, Albus arrived on their doorstep asking to speak with Minerva. Whatever transpired between them upset them both, but didn’t destroy whatever tie there was between them. Merwyn and Egeria watched their daughter as she continued in her career at the Ministry, then gone on to her apprenticeships, and returned to work for the Ministry after she achieved her Transfiguration mastery. In all that time, Minerva occasionally had boyfriends, and at one point, her parents believed that she might marry an Apothecary she met during her apprenticeship in Heidelberg, but she returned from the apprenticeship and rarely mentioned him again. And then she took the job at Hogwarts, and her mother began to worry about her only daughter, to worry that she was destined for unhappiness at the school, that whatever Minerva sought there, she would never find. But Minerva was an adult witch, and she had never spoken to them of Albus as anything other than as a teacher and mentor, so Egeria did not raise her worries with her daughter.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Minerva woke the next morning, slightly confused at first about where she was, then she recognised her childhood bedroom. Egeria had redecorated it in the intervening years, but it still held the same mahogany furniture she had grown up with, and the same picturess hung on the walls. They were Muggle pictures, one painting and one etching, very old ones inherited from her father’s grandparents. When she was small, Minerva used to be fascinated by the small, frozen characters in the etching, wondering what they might say or do next. It was far more fun to imagine it than to watch them in a magical painting, she thought.

Minerva dressed in robes with a subtle green, gold, and sienna pattern of leaves and branches woven through the fabric, then went down to breakfast. To her surprise, she felt well-rested, and she didn’t remember any of her dreams. She barely even remembered going to bed the night before. She smiled. Her mother had been so sweet, coming upstairs, practically tucking her into bed. Of course, she had tried to find a more specific reason for Minerva’s unexpected visit home, and Minerva told her part of the truth. The party at the Gamps had been interesting, and parts of it had been enjoyable, but dealing with all of those strangers, many of them unpleasant, for three days had been tiring, and she wanted to be somewhere she felt comfortable and at ease, and where she didn’t have to constantly either second-guess what someone was telling her or watch every word she said. When her mother asked her if she weren’t comfortable at Hogwarts, Minerva had simply shrugged and said that it wasn’t the same as home, and most of the staff were on holiday, Poppy included. She then mentioned her visit with Poppy that afternoon and their tentative plans to get together the next week to celebrate the mediwitch’s thirtieth birthday.

During breakfast, Minerva asked her mother about her work, then told her about Thea, Robert’s wife. “I don’t know how much time you have, but I told Robert and Gertrude that I would see if you could check Thea over and see if there was anything you could recommend. She’s been on bed-rest since they learned she was pregnant again, and Robert said she’d seen a few different Healers, but he would really appreciate your opinion, given your experience and expertise. He said that he was sure he could arrange Portkeys for both you and Dad.”

Egeria smiled. “It’s been a long time since your father and I were in Amsterdam. Before you were born, actually. We could take a few days and make a holiday of it. The two of us have become a little set in our ways – Edinburgh, Aberdeen, and Inverness, with the occasional outing to Hogsmeade. We only visited London because you and Melina were there. Now that you’re both in Scotland again – this would be a good opportunity for us to do something different. I think Merwyn has an old friend in Ghent we could look up, too. It sounds like an excellent exchange – they provide the Portkeys, and we get a holiday out of it.”

“I’m sure they anticipate a fee . . .”

“Pish! As though I need any fees. Most of the work I do now, you know, is for families that don’t have the advantages that we’ve taken for granted. Good families. I don’t insult them by waiving my fees entirely, of course, but we work out exchanges. I’m more than happy to do this for your friend. I knew his father, Reginald, after all – your father did, too – though I only know his mother by sight, or I used to, fifty years ago. And early in his career, Merwyn had quite a correspondence with Agyfen Gamp, Gertrude’s grandfather. Merwyn credits him with helping him become established and accepted as a scholar, despite his unorthodox ideas. So I’m happy to do a favour for Robert and his wife.”

“All right, Mother. I’ll fetch their contact information for you after breakfast. Where is Dad?”

“Having a lie-in. We were up late last night. I can’t sleep late if I try, but I’ll catch a nap later today.”

“You know, Mother, your mention of Aberdeen and Inverness reminded me that I haven’t seen either Morgan or Malcolm in months, nor Uncle Perseus and Aunt Helen. I wonder if they’d be up for a visit today. I wouldn’t want to impose . . . .”

“The last time I visited Uncle Perseus and Aunt Helen, they both said they would love to see you again soon. Just send them an owl now – find out if it’s convenient for you to pop around today. You could drop in on Malcolm, as well. I worry about him – at least it appears he’s settled down in one place for a while.”

Minerva grinned, thinking of her peripatetic oldest brother. “All right, Mother, I’ll check on Malcolm for you, make sure he’s wearing clean socks and eating his veg.”

She got up from the breakfast table to write a note to her Great-uncle Perseus and Helen, his wife, and find the funny little owl of her father’s to carry it. Minerva met her father on the stairs and just smiled at him, knowing he wouldn’t be up to speaking until he’d had his tea.

Two hours later, the little owl was back with an enthusiastic invitation from Aunt Helen to pop around for lunch and stay for the afternoon so they could catch up on everything Minerva had been doing since last they saw her. She asked Minerva to stop off and fetch Malcolm for lunch, as well.

Minerva gathered two bunches of flowers from her mother’s gardens, one for Malcolm and one for Aunt Helen and Uncle Perseus. She gave Egeria and Merwyn each a kiss, and Apparated off to Aberdeen, feeling more normal and ordinary than she had in weeks.

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

PART TWO OF TWO

LXXX: The Comforts of Home, continued

Egeria and Merwyn were just finishing their lunch when there was a rapping on their front door. A moment later, Fwisky popped in to tell them that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had arrived to see Miss Minerva, should she send him away since Minerva was not there?

“No, no, Fwisky. I’ll just go see him, myself.” Merwyn turned to Egeria. “Should I invite him to stay for the afternoon and take tea with us, love?”

“Excellent idea, Merwyn. Excellent.”

Merwyn found Albus standing awkwardly in the front hall, examining a portrait as though it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“Albus, so good to see you! Sorry that Fwisky left you here. She was at a bit of a loss of what to do, as Minerva isn’t here, you see.”

“She isn’t? But she left a note – ” Albus said, puzzled.

“Oh, she was here, and she will return. She’s just popped around to visit a few relatives this afternoon. But why don’t you stay! Egeria asked that I invite you to stay this afternoon and take tea with us later. You and I could catch up, it’s been so long. Do you play chess at all?”

“Yes, I do, but I couldn’t impose on you – ”

“No imposition at all, Albus, none whatsoever,” Merwyn said, putting a friendly hand on Albus’s shoulder. “And I know that Minerva would be disappointed to learn she’d missed you. Besides, I rarely have a decent game of chess anymore. Minerva’s quite good, my favourite opponent, in fact, but we hardly play anymore, as you can imagine.”

Merwyn had guided Albus into the library.

“I don’t know. I only came by to leave these for Minerva,” Albus said, holding out a file of parchments. “I thought she might like to get a jump on reviewing them. But, of course, I don’t want to interrupt her holiday. I should just be going. Don’t bother telling her I was here – she deserves a holiday, after all. It was inconsiderate of me to bring her work.”

“She’s very devoted to Hogwarts, though. I’m sure she won’t mind. And I know she would be disappointed that she missed you. And I will be disappointed if you leave now, as well. Not to mention that Egeria will have my head if I tell her I couldn’t get you to stay for tea,” Merwyn said jokingly. “Of course, I know you are a busy wizard, if you need to get back to Hogwarts . . . .”

“No, I could stay a little while, I suppose.” Albus smiled. “And a game of chess would be agreeable.”

“Good, very good! I’ll just go and let Egeria know I’ve prevailed upon you to stay for tea. Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be only a minute.”

Albus settled into a wingchair by the fireplace. The last time he had been alone in the room had been over a decade ago, when he’d come to give Carson’s letter to Minerva. That had been an unhappy visit. No point in dwelling on it now, however. It was in the past.

Merwyn returned. “We’re all set! Egeria is very pleased you’ll be staying for tea. She has to go out for a little while right now – checking on a patient – but she will be back in a couple hours. Plenty of time for some chess!”

Merwyn walked over to the cabinets behind the long table at one end of the room. “Muggle or regular?”

“Hmm?” Albus looked up questioningly.

“Muggle chessmen or regular ones?”

“You have your father’s set?” Albus asked. “Why don’t we play with that one, then – chessmen can be so temperamental sometimes.”

Merwyn grinned. “I feel the same way, actually. I like to concentrate on the game, and possibly on conversation, not on appeasing a disgruntled pawn or a grumbling bishop!”

Merwyn Summoned the chess table and set it in front of Albus, then drew up his chair across from him. “Do you prefer white or black?”

“Either – we can switch off, if you like.”

“Very well. Here, you take white to start.”

The two wizards played in silence for a while. Merwyn had called Fwisky, who had brought them some cold lemonade. Albus was contemplating what move he could make that would not result in his king being placed in check the next move when Merwyn spoke.

“Minerva seems to enjoy her teaching,” he said.

“Yes, I think she does. I hope she does, after leaving her career in London to come to Hogwarts.”

“It suits her,” Merwyn responded, his statement sounding almost like a question.

“Yes, she was quite a successful tutor as a student, and, of course, her skills in Transfiguration are among the best I have seen.”

The men were silent for a few minutes until Merwyn said, “Check and mate.”

Albus smiled, sitting back and looking at the board. “Very good. Very good, indeed.” He looked up with a grin. “Best two out of three?”

“Why not? Or three out of five, if we have the time.” Merwyn set up his white pieces. “If, of course, you don’t get tired of being beaten before then!” he said, grinning at Albus.

“Never . . . and we shall see who beats whom!”

The next game was slower, and when Albus began chasing Merwyn’s king around the board, only a single castle and a knight left to defend it, Merwyn tipped over his king with a flick of his index finger. “You have this one, Albus.”

They set up for a third game, and Albus made his opening gambit, when Merwyn said, “You know, Minerva’s quite good. Do you ever play chess with her? No? A pity. She always enjoys a good game. She can still beat me occasionally, although she doesn’t get in the practice she’d need to do so consistently. Perhaps you could keep her in trim, Albus . . . if you have the time for leisure activities, of course.”

“I’m sure she could find a more congenial chess partner.”

“I doubt it,” Merwyn said, taking a pawn en passant. “She likes a challenge. I am sure you could provide her with a challenge.” He grinned. “Of course, with Minerva, sometimes you have to be a little ruthless and a bit obvious – make sure she understands what you are offering. Then she’ll engage you with everything in her.”

Albus looked up from the chessboard. Merwyn was examining the pieces, trying to decide his next move.

“She can be determined,” Albus answered, wondering what Merwyn was on about.

“Quite. But sometimes she needs a prod or two to start her in the right direction. Not in chess, of course . . . .”

They played in silence for a bit longer, Merwyn winning, though not easily. “You really do present a challenge, Albus. You should play with Minerva. I’m sure she would enjoy it. Best three out of five?”

Albus agreed.

“Drink, Albus? I have some very nice whisky, unless you’d prefer something else – sherry, gilly water?”

Albus hesitated. He’d only had tea for his breakfast and had barely touched his lunch. Alcohol would likely go straight to his head. “I don’t know – ”

“Here, I’ll pour you a wee dram. And just so you don’t think I’m merely trying to gain an edge over you, I’ll pour myself a wee bit more!”

“I haven’t really eaten much today – ” Albus began.

“Oh, we can fix that. Fwisky!” Merwyn asked Fwisky to bring some hard-boiled eggs, cream crackers, and cheese.

“Egeria will be displeased if I spoil your appetite too much, not to mention that I’m not forcing fruit and vegetables down your throat, but this should keep us going until tea.”

As they played their more leisurely fourth game, Albus nibbled on the crackers and cheese, sipping the second glass of whisky Merwyn poured him after he’d finished the first one.

“Oh, doxiedung!” Merwyn exclaimed as he realised he’d made a foolish move. He grimaced.

Albus moved in for the kill, mating him in two more moves. He looked up, grinning. “Seems your whisky has a friendlier effect on my game than on yours, Merwyn.”

“Hmmpf. Why don’t we take a break for a bit? Egeria should be back soon – in fact, I think I hear her now,” he said as the crack of someone Apparating into the front hall reached them.

Sure enough, the door to the library opened and Egeria came in. “Albus! It is so good to see you again. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you earlier, but I was running a bit late.” She sat down in her favourite armchair. “I could use one of those, Merwyn. Just a little, though. Less than you’ve had, judging by the gleam in your eye and the glow to your cheek.”

“How do you know I’m not just particularly happy to see you, love?” Merwyn asked, bending to give his wife a kiss as he handed her a small glass of whisky.

“Mmm, flatterer!” Egeria said to her husband. “So, Albus, tell us all about Hogwarts. How is Minerva doing? Settling in well?”

“Hogwarts is doing just fine, although we are experiencing quite a few staff changes in a very short time. Minerva is assisting me, in fact. We need to find a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher before the end of December.”

“Care of Magical Creatures? Minerva didn’t take a NEWT in that.”

“No, but finding a competent teacher doesn’t necessarily mean she needs to be an expert, herself. She’s just selecting the most likely candidates, weeding out the unsuitable ones.”

“I’m sure she was pleased to be asked to lend you a hand with that,” Egeria said.

“Yes – ” Albus hesitated. “I don’t know if Minerva mentioned it to you, but our current Magical Creatures teacher is also Head of Gryffindor House. I have asked her to consider taking it, but she hasn’t come to a decision yet.”

“No, she didn’t mention that, but we haven’t had much time to talk. She arrived very late last night, and this morning we were discussing other things – some of the people she’d met while at the Gamps, actually.” Egeria noticed that Albus stiffened slightly when she said that.

“Oh, yes?” Albus asked politely.

“Yes, Gertrude’s son, Robert, in particular.”

Albus relaxed. “Ah, Robert. A good boy.”

“Yes, I understand that his wife has had certain medical problems. I owled them this morning. I thought I would see if there’s anything I could add to the care she is currently receiving, or at least reassure them, if I am able to.”

Albus smiled. “I am sure they will be very happy to have your opinion. That is very good of you.”

“Selfish of me, as well, Albus.” Egeria looked at Merwyn, who was listening to the conversation with a slight smile. “I can drag my husband away from his books for a few days’ holiday – someplace other than Edinburgh, Aberdeen, and Inverness, as I told Minerva this morning. Well, I need to consult with Fwisky about tea. You two continue doing whatever it is two wizards do when there are no witches around!”

Egeria kissed the top of her husband’s head on her way past him. “Don’t forget that I need to speak to you about that other business, dear.”

“Of course, love,” Merwyn said, not betraying that he had no clue what his wife was talking about. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

After Egeria had left, closing the door behind her, Merwyn asked, “Start another game, Albus?”

“All right – unless you’d prefer to wait until you’ve seen your wife? I hope I’m not disrupting your schedule.”

“I have no schedule. Well, I do, but it’s more of a rut than a schedule, as Egeria would tell you, if she were here. I always disagree with her about that, of course, but your visit has honestly been a delightful diversion.” He started setting up the board again.

They sat in companionable silence and began their fifth game. After a few minutes, Merwyn said, “You can take this opportunity to plan your complete victory over me while I take a minute and see Egeria. Another whisky?”

Albus shook his head. He was glad he was staying for tea. He doubted he’d drunk enough to splinch if he Apparated, but it was best not to take such a chance. Albus leaned back and considered the board over steepled fingers. His mind soon wandered back to his reason for being here this afternoon – Minerva and whatever had motivated her to leave Hogwarts so unexpectedly and so late at night. Whatever it was, if it did involve him, it didn’t appear that she had told her parents. Or if she had, it was something to do with Valeriana and they had already known what she had told them. It wasn’t precisely a secret that he’d been seeing the witch – he disliked using the term “courting” with regard to Valerianna – and that they had stopped seeing each other very precipitously. It was possible that they – or Egeria, at least – had known something of it.

Merwyn returned quickly. “So, you have planned your entire strategy while I’ve been gone, eh, Albus?”

“Hardly.” He looked at the younger wizard, a rueful grin on his face. “I will be unsurprised regardless which of us wins this game. You are very good, Merwyn.”

“Not a particularly practical talent, however.”

Several moves later, after Merwyn had sacrificed one of his bishops in order to place Albus in check on his next move, Merwyn said casually, “You know, Albus, I have something you might be interested in seeing.”

“Really?” Albus’s brow was knit in concentration, trying to find a way to use Merwyn’s attack against him.

“Yes – in my study, actually.”

“Are you forfeiting?” Albus asked with a smile.

“No, just suggesting a temporary cease-fire and adjournment to my study until tea is ready, which should be in about twenty minutes.”

Albus stood and stretched, anticipating some rare and interesting manuscript that Merwyn had recently acquired. “Very well; I can finish beating you after tea just as easily.”

Merwyn laughed and led Albus to the back of the house to his study, which was a picture of scholarly disarray. He waved his wand and cleared a place for Albus to sit, settling the books that had been piled on the chair on the top of a large stack in the corner of the room. Albus wondered how Merwyn could find anything in the apparent disorder, but Merwyn opened a drawer in his desk, removed some papers and parchments, then pulled out a single parchment from the bottom of the drawer.

“Here it is.” He didn’t hand it to Albus immediately. “We received an owl about twelve years ago, I think it was September. The contents took us by surprise, initially. I thought Egeria was going to pass out, in fact. But on closer examination, I realised that it had been written several months before, in early January, and it had probably been posted inadvertently by someone at the Ministry after the change in administrations.”

“What is it?” Albus asked curiously.

“It is a letter that Minerva wrote us. We believe that she wrote it to be sent in case of her death. She is unaware that we received it. It seemed inadvisable at the time, and since then, we simply haven’t had an opportunity to mention it. I think you will find it interesting.”

Albus looked at him sharply. “I do not believe it would be appropriate for me to read a letter that she never intended for me and, indeed, that she did not even intend to be sent at all.”

“There is a portion of it that pertains to you, Albus, and contains a message for you. I think that it is something you should read.” Merwyn held out the letter.

“I don’t know . . .” Albus’s curiosity warred with his sense of propriety. Knowing that Minerva had mentioned him in the letter had heightened his curiosity. She must have written it before leaving for France and her rescue of him. The memory of that recalled once more his visit to Minerva in this very house. He had always regretted the way he had handled the situation, although he could never determine what he might have said or done differently, given his state of mind at the time.

Hope y'all enjoyed that! (I'm practicing my Southern accent! LOL!)

[Hogwarts Duo]

Merwyn remembered how Albus told Minerva to step closer to him and listen to his heart; without hesitation, Merwyn’s normally reticent daughter stepped in and laid her head against the wizard’s chest, closing her eyes trustingly, a look of contentment on her face as she listened for Albus’s heartbeat, and a slight smile on Albus’s own. There was something right, natural, and timeless in their embrace.

Squeeeee!!! I love that last line in this paragraph. It sums up everything I have come to believe about Albus and Minerva’s romance. It’s right, natural and timeless…it’s love. Now if only those two dunderheads would realize it and get together for some good old fashioned snogging. Maybe our dear author could help them out a bit…wink wink, hint hint!

I absolutely LOVE Minerva’s parents. They’re so adorable in the way they still flirt with each other and it’s wonderful that they already realize the special relationship between Albus and Minerva, even when she was so young. I do hope we’re going to see more of their matchmaking skills in action. And it’s nice to know that when Albus and Minerva do finally get together, her parents will be supportive and excited for them. I’m sure Albus will appreciate that since he’s so hung up on the age difference.

Three cheers for Merwyn and Egeria’s idea to show Albus the letter Minerva wrote during the war. If that doesn’t give his heart a boost, I’m sure nothing will. I can’t help but wonder what he’s going to think of what he reads the letter so please hurry with the next update. You have a knack of picking the worst (okay best for suspense) places to stop a chapter!!! ;D

GLM

[esoterica1693]

Oh, wonderful!
Go, dad! Minerva is very lucky in her parents.
I agree w/ Hogwarts Duo:

without hesitation, Merwyn’s normally reticent daughter stepped in and laid her head against the wizard’s chest, closing her eyes trustingly, a look of contentment on her face as she listened for Albus’s heartbeat, and a slight smile on Albus’s own. There was something right, natural, and timeless in their embrace.

After the two vanished in the only silent Apparition Merwyn ever witnessed, Egeria said, “I thought you were just teasing about the unrequited love.”

“So did I.”

“Do you think either of them knows?”

“Not a clue, either of them.”

is just an incredible scene.

Another firewhisky, perhaps, Albus?

[twinkle]

Hey, you can't stop right here. I'm dead curious now!

But it was really lovely, as always, and I was delighted when I found this update.
Pleaaaaase show us Albus' reaction very soon!!!

[sevherfan]

My god, you were right, that was coincidental. I swear I didn't break into your harddrive.

Please please please please please put up the next chapter. We swear we will forgive any spelling mistakes or other things that would require multiple revisions and a delay of an update. It is impossible to wait to see what he'll say. Although I think we all know it will be along the lines of "ah yes, because I am her mentor..." But I trust Merwyn completely and know he won't let it sit like that.

[MMADfan]

Sheesh! You guys are greedy! Give you a little and you beg for more, more, more! My poor widdle fingers are being worn to the bone here, typing away MMADly! Is there no rest for me? LOL!

I'll post the next chapter tomorrow for all you impatient folk -- even though this one was just posted! I hope people who haven't read the last chapter don't lose track of where they are!

Thanks for all the comments, and I'm really glad that folks enjoyed Merwyn's recollection of Albus and Minerva's Side-Along Apparition -- I've been waiting AGES to write that scene from his pov! That little conversation between Merwyn and Egeria has been sitting patiently waiting for its moment, so I'm glad you liked the chapter.

[sevherfan]

hehe, greedy is such a good word. Complain all you like (after you update), you know you love it.

[Trulyamused]

Story is coming along very nicely. Good for Albus to go after her. I really like Minerva's parents.

Looking forward to more.

Truly

[FireBird]

First, of course, come my thanks for updating so very rapidly. Secondly: GO GERTIE! I love the way she protected Albus from Valerianna. And, personally, I'm convinced she's not doing it because she wants Albus for herself. The conspiracy story was wonderful; I'm really glad Poppy told Minerva about it. It's great to finally know the (almost?) whole story of something; it seems like a fairly large piece of the puzzle.
It's also good to see more of Minerva's parents again, though I'm slightly worried that their meddling might make things worse rather than better. By the way, what happened to Melina and her boyfriend? Are we going to hear more about them in near future? I also have to wonder, naturally, what is wrong with Hagrid. I do hope we will find out more about that in later chapters.

Just to let you know, I'd be delighted if you kept up this speed of updating.

[MMADfan]

LXXXI: Mistakes and Misunderstandings

The first mistake Albus had made was obvious. He had refused to speak with Minerva immediately after Carson’s funeral. “Refused” was perhaps too strong a word – he had declined to speak with her. The entire event had been stressful for him. Albus had only been released from St. Mungo’s the day before and hadn’t even been up to Apparating to Ireland, instead relying on a Ministry-issued Portkey. He had to speak with Carson’s parents and give them the letter he had helped the boy write. When Minerva had come up to him, he had told her simply that they would have to talk at some other time, that he would see her soon. Albus hadn’t stayed for the wake, leaving immediately after attending the burial and talking with the Murphys. He should have paid more attention to her then, Albus realised. She had been grieving Carson, and he should have been patient and supportive of her.

But then two days later, when he had Apparated to the McGonagall home from London, after first seeking Minerva at the Ministry, he had attempted to provide that patient support, and he had still said and done all of the wrong things, though he didn’t know what would have been the right things to say, given his own state of mind.

It started badly enough when he remarked, quite innocently, that he had first sought her at the Ministry, not realising that she was on leave. She expressed her great displeasure at having been given an enforced leave. When she had come into work on Monday morning, she was told that her job had been eliminated and that she was being reassigned. Until then, she was being given two weeks leave. They gave her absolutely no explanation.

Albus had uncomfortably explained that that had probably been his fault. He had not intended that she be put on leave for two weeks or that she be told that her current job was eliminated. But given the way the Ministry had interpreted his first request that Minerva not be given a dangerous job, it should have come as no surprise that they handled her promotion so poorly.

“I’m afraid that’s my doing, Minerva – I don’t mean precisely that I asked them to put you on leave and eliminate your job, of course,” Albus said. As Minerva sat and glared at him, he made matters worse by adding, “Just as I didn’t intend that you be given a desk job back when you started at the Ministry.”

“That was you? You did that to me? Why? Didn’t you have any confidence in my ability, Albus?”

“Of course, I did, my dear. I just intended that you be given a job that would keep you safe, away from danger. I thought they would give you a job using your skills, but one that would keep you at the Ministry and away from any fighting – ”

“You shouldn’t have done that, Albus! You never even told me – or asked me. Do you know that I have spent months and months doing almost nothing but routing requisitions for Charmed objects? The most excitement I have had is doing research on charms – research, Albus, not any spell development or testing – and even that was rare. I never complained. I felt I was contributing to the war effort, even if I believed that witches whom I had tutored were getting better jobs than I had.” Angry tears welled in Minerva’s eyes.

Albus listened patiently as Minerva continued to tell him that he had no business interfering in her life, and that it would have been better if he had simply told the Ministry not to hire her – she could have spent the last year and a half doing something that was more useful and interesting somewhere else.

Albus agreed with her, and when she had finally subsided, he said, “I should have said something to you, Minerva, and if I had any idea what work they had given you, I would have straightened things out immediately. Which is what I just tried to do. With mixed results, obviously. They should have told you that you were being promoted and your previous work was being redistributed. I am sorry. But remember, these are the same people who sent you to France with a belled collar for a Portkey.” He smiled slightly, hoping that she could find some humour in the situation, though he wouldn’t blame her if she couldn’t.

“And precisely what misunderstanding are you going to use to explain why I couldn’t visit you in St. Mungo’s? They told me no one but family, and then I saw Professor Gamp leaving with Headmaster Dippet. I stopped them, and they told me they had just been to see you. Yet when I tried on Saturday afternoon and again on Sunday morning, I was treated like a garden gnome the Welcome Witch was just itching to toss over a hedge.”

“I don’t know, Minerva,” Albus said wearily. “I wasn’t aware that you were trying to visit me, or I would have told them to let you see me. They were trying to keep the press away, I knew that, and others who had no genuine business with me. I am sorry. I would have been happy to see you, to know that you were well.”

“It wasn’t entirely a lost cause, anyway,” Minerva said. “At least I could see Alastor – and Philip. They hadn’t placed such restrictions on him. It was good to know that he made it back and is going to be all right.”

“Yes, Auror Frankel . . . I saw him before he left St. Mungo’s and thanked him for bringing you to France. And that is one reason I am here today, Minerva. I want to thank you. I am indebted to you. You were remarkable. Absolutely remarkable. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Albus,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry I was upset about the job . . . I’m sure you meant well, and I appreciate that. I am more angry with the Ministry. They seem able to take anything and make a mess of it. It’s a wonder that we are able to make any progress at all against Grindelwald.”

“You’ve only experienced the most bureaucratic aspects of the Ministry. Most of the front-line Aurors are exceptional, and there are a lot of wizards and witches who are working in parallel with the Ministry, doing whatever they are able to do on their own. There is a great deal more competence than you have seen.”

“I hope so.” Minerva sighed and looked at him appraisingly. “Are you fully recovered, Albus?”

“Yes. I tire a little more easily than usual, but I Apparated to London this morning and then up here, which were my first Apparitions since I was released from St. Mungo’s.”

Minerva was silent for a moment. “I am glad you are doing well, Albus. I was terribly worried about you. When I saw you at Carson’s funeral, I wanted to know how you were. You still looked so pale. . . .”

“I know. And I’m sorry if I seemed rude, but I had to see the Murphys, and I was not looking forward to that.”

“I see. I understand. That must have been difficult.”

Albus said, “It wasn’t just that I wanted to tell them of their son’s last hours.” He swallowed and forced himself to maintain his emotional control. “He had written a letter for them. I had helped him write it. I delivered it and told them what a wonderful young man they had raised.”

Minerva nodded. The thought of young, vital Carson now cold and dead in the ground still caused a lump in her throat.

“And I also have one for you, Minerva,” Albus said softly.

“One what?”

“A letter. From Carson. He was very weak. It was the last thing he did.” Albus took the folded paper from one of his pockets. He had cleaned the blood from it, but hadn’t changed it otherwise. “I had to write it down for him. He would have said more, I think, but he could barely speak. I’m afraid I wasn’t in very good shape, either, so if there’s anything that’s illegible . . . .”

Minerva took the letter from his hand and looked at it apprehensively before unfolding it and reading it.

“My Fair Minerva,

“Thank you for spending time with me, especially in London. It was very nice to see you there.

“You are a good person, Minerva, and I am thankful I was able to know you. When I was with you, I was more myself than I am with anyone else. Time spent with you always left me feeling warm and good.

“You are meant for someone special, Minerva. I hope you find him. I will see my Gram soon, and I will ask her.

“Please take care of Professor Dumbledore for me when you see him. He will feel responsible for what has happened.

“Thank you, my Fair Minerva,
“Love always,

“Carson.”

Minerva’s eyes filled with tears and the words swam in front of her. She stood and turned away from Albus, looking out the front window at the cold, hard winter’s day. That was so like Carson, asking her to take care of Professor Dumbledore, thinking of someone other than himself even when on the edge of death. Minerva blinked and took a deep, calming breath, trying to drive her sadness away for the moment. She could cry later and remember how kind and sweet and energetic Carson had been. Now, she had to do as Carson had asked.

“Thank you for bringing this to me, Albus. I’m sure it meant a lot to Carson, and it means a lot to me, as well. It must have been quite difficult for you . . . writing the letters, staying with him as he died, all alone there, and injured yourself.” She sat down across from him.

“It is a war, Minerva. This happens. But you are right. It was not easy to watch a boy I knew and loved die, unable to do anything for him and knowing that his death was my fault.”

“Albus, you said that before, but it was not your fault. You did not kill him. You didn’t blow up the jeep or push him into the explosion. You were injured yourself.”

“I might as well have pushed him into the explosion, though, Minerva.” He shook his head. “I told his parents that he died a hero. And he did. He saved my life, Minerva, but only at the expense of his own. When the jeep exploded, he turned to me, shielding me with his own body and pushing me to the ground, out of the way of the flying shrapnel. If he hadn’t done that, he would likely have walked away with only a few scratches and bruises. A piece of metal went right through his chest, Minerva. It would have hit me. It should have. I brought those boys there, and Alastor lost his leg and Carson lost his life. And it wasn’t even a battle. Do you understand what I am saying? Carson died for nothing.”

“What? How can you say such a thing? You just said he died a hero. And he did. It may not have been a battle, but he died doing something important to him, and if what you say is accurate, then he died saving you. That certainly was not dying for nothing, Albus, and it’s an insult to his memory to say that, or even to think it.” Minerva’s voice was calm but insistent. Clearly Carson had been right; Albus did feel responsible for what happened, and he needed her to take care of him.

“I know that he was important to you, Minerva. It was clear that he loved you. I took him from you,” Albus said hoarsely.

“You are incorrect. He was important to me, a good friend. And he may have loved me. But you did not take him from me. You were with him when he was wounded and when he died. He saved your life, but you did not cause his death. And you seem to think that we were . . . involved. We weren’t, not the way you seem to think. He was a very good friend. And as his friend, I have to tell you that saving you gave his death – and his life – meaning. Do not denigrate that.”

“Minerva, Minerva.” Albus sighed. “You cannot understand. I was responsible for them, and Carson would be alive if it weren’t for me. You and he could be together in London this very day if it weren’t for his foolish actions.”

Minerva stood, “Carson’s death is sad, but it is not tragic, Albus. He saved you. He may not be here, but you are. Do not belittle the sacrifice that Carson made – it is unworthy of you both.”

“I am not belittling Carson, my dear. I am simply putting it in perspective.”

“Albus, grieve for Carson and remember him, but don’t say that you caused his death. As long as you continue to believe that, you won’t be able to appreciate his action in saving your life. It was his choice, Albus. He was a good man. Give him his due. Do not call his actions foolish.”

Albus nodded. “Yes, my dear. He was good, brave, and kind.”

“Albus . . . please tell me that you understand that his death was not your fault, and that his action in saving you was his choice, and his choice was noble and worthwhile.”

Albus sat, slouched over, and looked at his hands folded on his knees. Minerva went to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Please let me help you, Albus. Stay here a while with us. You don’t need to go back to Hogwarts right away. Mother and Dad like you; they’d be happy to have you stay. I still have a week before I have to return to the Ministry. Or I could come to Hogwarts, stay in Hogsmeade. We could talk whenever you need to. I know you feel responsible, but you need to come to accept what happened out there on that road and what Carson did – ”

“I am fine, Minerva. Our views on the events may differ – but you must remember that I was present and you were not and I am the one who survived while Carson died, not you – but I am fine. I have accepted what happened. It is war. People die, the good and the bad, and even the best, like Carson.” He moved back in his chair, out of Minerva’s partial embrace. “I am fine. I have responsibilities. I do not need to talk. If you need to – ”

“Obviously, both Carson and I are fools, then, because I am sure that he would agree with me, and it is his life that you are dismissing. And my offer of help – ”

“Your offer is appreciated, but unnecessary. I appreciate what you did in France. You were brave, competent, efficient, and clever. And I am proud of you. But I do not need anything from you now,” Albus said softly.

Minerva stood back from him, eyes flashing. “You appreciate it. You are proud of me. But you don’t need me. I want to be a friend to you, Albus. I wish you would let me. But now I see my true value to you. You won’t talk to me, and you don’t see me as anything more than a little girl who needs protecting. No wonder I ended up a parchment-pusher in the Ministry.”

She turned and left the room hastily, not looking back. A moment later, Albus heard the front door close.

He couldn’t have handled that worse if he had set out to. When Merwyn came in, Albus could barely look up at Minerva’s father. He probably thought that Albus had said or done something terrible to his daughter. And he supposed, from Minerva’s perspective, he had. He had come to offer her comfort for her loss and had only succeeded in upsetting her. Albus was too tired and distracted to Apparate even the short distance to Hogwarts, so he reluctantly accepted Merwyn’s invitation to stay for their afternoon dinner. And when Merwyn asked that he go find Minerva and tell her that dinner would be served shortly, he agreed. It was his fault that Minerva was out in the cold, windy January weather, after all.

He found her, sitting on a rather precarious looking boulder at the top of the cliff, about twenty feet above him, but hundreds of feet above the rocky ground at the base of the cliff. Albus couldn’t imagine climbing up there, and he remembered how Minerva’s grandfather had died falling from these cliffs. Heart in his mouth, he called up to her. She looked down at him and then turned away to face the ocean.

“Minerva, please come down. Carefully,” he called to her again. “I am sorry, Minerva.”

“Why don’t you come up?” she answered.

Albus looked at the sheer, rocky cliff. He couldn’t climb up there, not on such a windy day in his current condition, anyway.

“I can’t,” he yelled through the wind.

“It’s a short Apparition. There’s room here beside me.” Minerva moved over a little, making more room for him. “If you can Apparate from the Pyrenees to the Pennines, I’m sure you can make this short hop.”

Albus Apparated beside her and automatically closed his eyes. He almost never suffered from vertigo, and this was apparently one of those very rare occasions, possibly a residual side-effect of his head injury. After acclimatising to the height, he very gingerly sat down next to Minerva.

“Your father sent me to get you for dinner. It will be served shortly.”

Minerva just nodded.

“So you Apparated up here,” he said, trying to sound conversational.

“No.”

“Oh.” Albus looked down at the hard, rocky ground several hundred feet below them. “You should be very careful, Minerva. These cliffs are dangerous. Collum, your grandfather, died not far from here.”

“I am very aware of that, Professor Dumbledore. I have been walking these cliffs since I was a small child. I suggested Apparition for you because I thought you would find it more convenient.” She fell silent again.

“Minerva, I am sorry. I truly am. I came here to offer you comfort and support, and instead I upset you more than I would have if I’d simply handed you Carson’s letter and left. I just don’t know what to say.”

“Professor, sometimes if you don’t know what to say, it’s best not to say anything at all. Grandmother Siofre used to tell me that. It seems apt at the moment.” Minerva gazed off into the distance, where Albus could just make out the ocean frothing under the hard January wind.

They sat in silence for a while. “Are you coming in for dinner?”

Minerva didn’t answer his question and she didn’t look at him. “You know, Professor, what Carson did, it didn’t end when he pushed you out of the way of the explosion. It didn’t even end when he died. It won’t ever end, not really. Whatever you do for the rest of your life, for good or for ill, will be thanks to Carson. Aside from your friends, colleagues, and students who will benefit from your continued life, companionship, and teaching, the wizarding world is relying on you to help bring this war to an end. I have faith that you can do this, that you are doing this. When you end this war, when you defeat Grindelwald, Carson will be there with you because he made it possible. So never again say, never even think, that Carson’s death was meaningless or his choice foolish. He may not get the recognition that he deserves for it, but he wouldn’t care about that. He would just be happy that he was able to help you to succeed and then go on to live the rest of your life. That was the way Carson was. That’s why you loved him and why his death is painful for you. But clearly I cannot help you with that.” Minerva stood. “We should go in to dinner now, Professor.”

Albus closed his eyes and Apparated to the ground below, then looked up to where Minerva was still standing, her loden cloak whipping about her, her black hair, loosed from its bun by the wind, streaming behind her as she looked out toward the ocean. She was beautiful, young, and strong, yet vulnerable, and Albus felt closer to tears than he had that whole day. In a blink of his eye, she transformed into a tabby cat and, seeming even more vulnerable than she had before, she climbed and leapt down the rocky cliff face to stand beside him. She looked up at Albus and returned to her ordinary form.

They went in to dinner and never spoke of it after that day. It was weeks before Albus saw Minerva again. At first, he had been too uncomfortable to even write her a letter, and then he was simply too busy, barely having time to eat or to sleep until that early morning in March when he brought a final end to Grindelwald.

Note: Thanks for all your comments and enthusiastic reading! Next, "The Magic of Memory." Albus decides whether to read Minerva's letter, takes tea with Merwyn and Egeria, finishes his chess game with Merwyn, and they have an interesting conversation; later, Minerva returns from visiting Uncle Perseus and Aunt Helen.