Chapter Seven
Chapter 7 of 48
SquibstressBefore she was Professor McGonagall, she was Minerva Macnair. After an arranged marriage forces her into an impossible situation, Minerva does what she must to survive. When she makes a new life for herself, her secrets follow and threaten everything, including the only love she has ever found. The tale of a woman, her secrets, and how she keeps them.
Winner - 3rd Place, Best Drama-Angst WIP - Fall/Winter 2012 HP Fanfic Fanpoll Awards
10 May 1945
"Now let your mind go blank; concentrate only on your senses," Griselda said.
Minerva dutifully tried to empty her mind of conscious thought. After a few moments, she found herself drifting along on a sea of sensation: smells she resisted putting a name to, sounds she refused to identify . . .
They had been practising this exercise in preparation for her Animagus work on a daily basis since Minerva had returned to her apprenticeship.
After a few minutes, Griselda's voice cut through Minerva's reverie. "So? How was it this time?"
"Good, I think. I was able to maintain it fairly easily," answered Minerva.
"Good. Once you can do it for five minutes straight, we'll move on to the next set of exercises.
There was a sudden noise from the stairwell, and a moment later, a very excited and out-of-breath Bathilda appeared, hurrying down the steps.
"Bathilda! What the hell...?"
"Hush, Zel," said Bathilda, bending over to catch her breath.
Minerva was concerned about the old witch for a few moments, but Bathilda straightened up, an emotional flush staining the skin of her face.
"I've just heard over the Wizarding Wireless . . . he's done it, Zel!" exclaimed Bathilda, throwing her arms around a confused and astonished Griselda.
"Slow down, old girl . . . who's done what?" asked Griselda.
"Dumbledore! He's gone and captured Gellert!"
It was the first time Minerva had ever seen Griselda at a loss for words; her mouth just opened and closed a few times, no sound escaping it.
"It's true, Zel. I checked it with the Minister the minute I heard," said Bathilda softly, taking her by the upper arms and giving her a slight shake. "He's sitting in a cell in Nurmengard, locked up in his own bloody tower even as we speak."
It took Minerva a second to work out that Bathilda was talking about Gellert Grindelwald, and that the Minister of Magic was not, in fact, sitting in a prison cell in the Bothnian Sea. And what had she said about "Dumbledore"? Did she mean Albus?
Bathilda was looking intently into Griselda's eyes, and it appeared to Minerva that Bathilda was trying to persuade her beloved of the truth of her words through force of will.
"It's over?" whispered Griselda, and the fear in her voice made Minerva tremble inwardly. She would never have imagined her strong, stalwart teacher to be afraid of anything.
"Well, Gellert's still got supporters to be dealt with, but with their Volkssklavenmeister out of the picture, they'll go to ground like as not."
To Minerva's utter astonishment, Griselda threw her arms around Bathilda and began to sob into her shoulder. Bathilda rubbed soothing circles on Griselda's back and stroked her hair, murmuring, "There now . . . there now . . . let it out . . ."
Minerva automatically backed away a few paces, suddenly feeling as if she were intruding on something incredibly intimate. She caught Bathilda's eye and cocked her head toward the stairway to indicate that she would be in the main house, and Bathilda give a slight nod.
Disappearing up the staircase and out the door that led to the tiny garden, Minerva then used the password to let herself into the main house. She wondered if she should begin to prepare the tea...that had always been Bathilda's province...but decided to wait. Minerva had no idea where the tea things were, and she had an inkling that Griselda would not appreciate her apprentice poking about in her kitchen; it would have felt like an intrusion into the intimate territory Griselda and Bathilda shared.
She contented herself with taking a look around the parlour. It had become a tradition...well, habit; tradition was too grand a word for it...for Minerva to take tea with Griselda and Bathilda of a Friday evening before returning home. She had come to look forward to these occasions as a parched man looks forward to a sip of water. The two older women were the only people with whom Minerva had been able to hold a real conversation about anything she was interested in since leaving Hogwarts.
Conversations with Gerald were . . . well, not conversations. Their interactions generally consisted of her nodding at appropriate intervals and interjecting a bored, "Oh?" into his nattering discourses on this or that horse's chances in the next race, or some bit of lurid gossip about one or another of Scotland's small, pure-blood wizarding community. And of course, there were the endearments he slobbered into her ear several nights a week as he took his pleasure, always on top of her, and lately, always in the dark.
And there was certainly no conversation to be had with any other member of the Macnair household. Her mother-in-law only spoke to her when necessary, and then only of household matters. In truth, Minerva thought that Heloise was not all there...or perhaps she pretended to be so, for which Minerva would hardly blame her. As for Kenneth Macnair, Minerva steered well clear of the man as much as possible. She heard quite enough from him over the dinner table, in any event, and most of what she heard put her off her food. She longed to argue with him about some of his more outrageous statements...in fact, she often suspected he was trying to goad her into an argument, but she was wise enough not to take the bait set out by a man she considered very dangerous. Minerva tried hard to be invisible whenever Kenneth Macnair was afoot, with limited success. She often had the sense that he was watching her, and it made her blood run cold.
Walden, Gerald's younger brother, was far too young to be much of a conversationalist, and Minerva didn't hold out high hopes that the four-year-old would turn out to be an engaging playmate for Malcolm.
Malcolm.
Aside from her apprenticeship, the baby was the one bright spot in Minerva's life. At a little over a year old, he was a happy, active child, fascinated by the world around him as he tottered about on his chubby, peg-like legs. To Minerva's relief...a relief tinged with regret...his reddish fuzz had fallen out a few weeks after his birth to grow in as dark-brown ringlets over the ensuing months. On occasion, as she had watched him grow from an infant into something resembling a little boy, she felt a pang that she would never again hold a baby of her own, nor be able to give Malcolm a brother or sister to be his playmate and later, his ally in this difficult family.
Minerva sometimes found herself talking to her baby son as she would to another adult, telling him about something she had read, or answering questions about a point of Transfiguration theory as if he were asking the questions, while he gurgled happily and wetly up at her.
If Malcolm was her greatest joy, he was also her biggest worry. Minerva knew she would not always be able to protect him. Fortunately, for the moment, Gerald seemed indifferent to the child and left his rearing largely to Minerva, stopping in only to kiss the boy absently on the head after his bath before the adults sat down to sup. And the two senior Macnairs seemed to subscribe to the belief that children were best neither seen nor heard, for which Minerva was profoundly thankful. Still, she didn't harbour any hopes that Malcolm would escape their notice forever.
Minerva hoped that the Macnairs' indifference to her son would last long enough for her to finish her apprenticeship. Once she held her mastery, she would have options. She could not divorce Gerald, thanks to the binding marriage contract, but they could separate, or perhaps he would come with her when she purchased a small home in which she could offer lessons and, she hoped, do a bit of research. She probably could not prevent him from coming if he wanted to, and she recognised it as the price she might have to pay to secure his agreement to allow her to make the purchase. She was certain she could persuade him, though. The prospect of an income would be enticing. Despite the sum settled on him by his father at their marriage, Minerva knew Gerald was always looking for a source of extra cash. Abraxans were an expensive hobby, as was losing wagers. And Minerva suspected Gerald had other expensive hobbies...ones he didn't chatter to her about. Yes, when she thought about it, she thought she might be able to goad Gerald into agreeing to a separation, leaving him free to pursue his interests much as she pursued her own.
The apprenticeship was her lifeline, of that she was certain. As she stood in her teacher's house, she silently thanked the gods and Albus Dumbledore for her prowess at Transfiguration.
During their teas, Minerva had never had much opportunity to look around Griselda's parlour. As she paced about the room now, she was drawn to the mantel, which held several photographs in silver and ceramic frames. There was a still daguerreotype of much younger Griselda with an even younger girl who bore a certain resemblance to her...Griselda's sister, Minerva guessed...and another in which the two girls were flanked by two boys. Brothers?
Another photo, this one an animated wizarding image, showed Griselda, her hand being forcefully shaken by an elderly wizard as he hung a medallion around her neck, Griselda grinning wider than Minerva had ever seen her do in life. But the majority of photos were of Griselda and Bathilda in various locations...in Muggle clothes with ridiculously large hats beneath the Eiffel Tower, in heavy fur robes on a snow-covered slope, and a surprising snapshot of the two in long woollen bathing costumes on a beach...but the thing that struck Minerva was that the two women were always touching in the photos: a hand on a shoulder, an arm around a waist, and in one, a quick peck on the lips followed by a furtive darting of the eyes as if to ensure they hadn't been caught out.
For the second time that afternoon, Minerva almost staggered backward, so profound was the emotion that washed over her. In a moment, she recognised it as envy, deep and painful as the pangs that had accompanied the destruction of her ova after she had taken that terrible potion. No one in her adult life had ever touched her in love, or even affection.
Correction: one person had. But he was out of her reach, and it was quite possible she would never see him again, or at least, not alone. And even if by some miracle they were to be thrown together again, there was now a barrier between them, even if he was unaware of it. But Minerva would always know it and feel it, and the weight of the secret would eventually crush anything else that might grow between them.
Albus.
Bathilda had said that he had captured Grindelwald. How? Was he all right? And why had Griselda reacted so strongly to the news?
Her questions were only partially answered when the two elder witches appeared in the parlour, a red-eyed Griselda excusing herself upstairs to "freshen up," and Bathilda to make the tea.
When Bathilda had deposited the tea tray on the table and settled herself into the chair opposite Minerva's, she said, "I expect you're wondering what all that was about."
"It isn't my place, but I will admit to being curious," answered Minerva.
"I'll tell you part of it, but not the details. We'll save those for a more settled time, if you're still interested. It's history, and I'll tell it eventually, but Gellert's supporters are still lurking about, and it isn't wise to have too much information you don't need about the thing."
Well, that certainly piqued Minerva's curiosity.
"In a nutshell, Zel is relieved that Gellert's locked up because he threatened me."
Minerva's astonishment must have been evident, because Bathilda gave a rough laugh, saying, "Oh, yes. I can see you're thinking: 'Why would the world's most powerful Dark wizard have it in for an old lady who mucks about in dusty libraries for a living?'"
"No . . . well, yes, but I wouldn't have put it quite that way," said Minerva.
"No, I know you wouldn't," said Bathilda with a smile. "Anyway, Gellert Grindelwald is my nephew. Well . . . great-nephew."
Minerva's mouth fell open.
"Even lunatics have family," said Bathilda, which effectively reminded Minerva to shut her mouth. "He came to stay with me after he got himself tossed out of school. His mother begged me to take him in because it turned out that he was in more than a little trouble with the authorities once the school copped to the full extent of what he had been doing there.
"The short version is that while he stayed with me, something else happened that made it necessary for him to leave the country in a hurry. When he did, he ended up in the hands of the Swiss authorities and spent five years in the wizarding prison outside Regensdorf. He blames me for that."
"But why?"
"That's part of the detail I won't go into. But the outcome was that Gellert has a grudge against me, and he tried several times to exercise it. I'm minus one spleen thanks to a couple of his British supporters, and they nearly killed me another time."
"That's why Griselda is so . . ." Minerva searched for the right word.
"Emotional?" finished Bathilda. "Yes. She doesn't talk about it...hell, she rarely talks about her feelings...but she's developed kind of a phobia about it . . . about something happening to me. That's why I moved out of Godric's Hollow. Frankly, I don't think I'm any safer here in London, but it keeps Zel calmer. She likes to think she can protect me. Has a point, I suppose: I was never much at defensive spells, and Zel . . . well, you've seen her wand work."
"Yes. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of any hex she might throw," agreed Minerva. "Bathilda, thank you for telling me." Bathilda just nodded.
Minerva added anxiously, "Do you think you're safe now?"
"Safe enough. Gellert's supporters weren't especially active here...my little contretemps with them notwithstanding...and they'll probably scurry back into their holes to avoid any repercussions. They're not going to risk being noticed by the Ministry just to exercise one of Gellert's old grudges."
"No, I imagine not," agreed Minerva.
Just then, they heard Griselda coming down the stairs.
The three were unusually quiet as they had their tea. Finally, Minerva could not help asking, "Bathilda, you said Dumbledore captured Grindelwald?"
"Mmm. Went looking for him last month, so I heard from the Minister. It was all very hush-hush, but I'm guessing the International Confederation put pressure on the Minister to send him. He's the only one I know of whose power would be a match for Gellert's. And, of course . . . ah, never mind."
"Is Albus all right?" Griselda quickly asked, posing the question that had been on the tip of Minerva's tongue.
"Yes, more or less. Apparently, he's in hospital in Vienna. The Minister said his leg's pretty badly mangled, and there's a chance he could lose it, but he's going to be all right."
Both older witches turned at Minerva's exclaimed, "Oh!"
"Don't worry, Minerva," said Griselda. "I'm sure his leg will mend. Albus wouldn't have it any other way," she said with a sly smile at Bathilda. "Albus was Minerva's mentor at school," she added. "He was the one told me I'd be a fool to pass her up as an apprentice, marriage or not."
"You owe him, then, I'd say," said Bathilda.
"I certainly do," said Minerva.
"Looks like we all owe him now," remarked Griselda.
The other two nodded in agreement.
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Latest 25 Reviews for A Slant-Told Tale
162 Reviews | 4.64/10 Average
Oooooh, crap. Minerva has gone through far too many things, which it would really turn her into the strong woman she is. I am really enjoying how the story keeps surprising me. Thanks for this fic! :)
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
I love doing backstory for interesting characters we only really glimpse in the books!Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!
I wasn't expecting the true Bathilda Bagshot too! Such a treat! :)
oooh! Nice start!I love Minerva's character and I am really looking forward reading a whole story centered on her :)
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Thanks. I love Minerva, as you can see by the number of stories I've written about her!
Ah! The Kids' POV. It would have to be Hermoine--none of the others are observant or discreet enough. Yes, Hermione, even old fogeys can be in love, and real love doesn't mind flaws... It would be interesting for Molly and Hermoine to discuss Alastor and Minerva during cooking lessons sometime. What would the kids say if they knew that Miinerva's married name was MacNair?Speaking of that, will we get to see Malcom, or Minerva's grandkids? Malcolm is still one of my all-time favorite OC's.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Yes, Hermione, of course. And I'm glad you picked up on the parallel between Molly and Hermione, and their observations of McGonagall/Moody. It would be an interesting conversation, all right!We may get a glimpse of Malcolm and his brood soon.Stay tuned. It won't be such a long wait as last time!
Oh my!!! <Happy dance!>. I am so thrilled to see this! I'll have to go back and re-read it all. I cheated and just re-read the end of the last chapter to remind myself where we are. It was interesting to see the meeting of the reconstituted OOtP, and to see the discussion about using Sirius' house as headquarters. I also liked the discussion re:Umbridge. I never thought Dumbledore or Minerva were completely oblivious to what Fudge was up to there, but Harry's POV always seemed to suggest that. I was glad to see that Alastor is still with Minerva, too.Now to chapter 42!
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Thanks for your patience, LOL!I had to go back and reread myself before I finished the chapter.No,I don't think the grownups are nearly as gormless as the kids seem to think they are. You know how teenagers are.
I had to look twice in my inbox when the notice came in that this piece had been updated. To say I was excited would be an understatement. I thought to go back and reread before reading this update, but didn't have the time, and it was interesting to see all the order members, as well as the kids, in this chapter. My favorite bit was when Alastor was gruffing about Tonks refusal to fly into the clouds, and the assumption that Moody would have them fly to Wales and back to throw off a tail.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Updated at last.Glad you enjoyed Alastor being Alastor!More soon, I hope.
I had to look twice in my inbox when the notice came in that this piece had been updated. To say I was excited would be an understatement. I thought to go back and reread before reading this update, but didn't have the time, and it was interesting to see all the order members, as well as the kids, in this chapter. My favorite bit was when Alastor was gruffing about Tonks refusal to fly into the clouds, and the assumption that Moody would have them fly to Wales and back to throw off a tail.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Yes, believe it or not, I'm trying to finish this sucker. I had to go back and read before I wrote it!It was fun to write a bit of Tonks--someone I never wrote before.Hopefully, there will be more before too long.
Response from Fishy (Reviewer)
I'm excited! I might go back and reread everything now that you're active again.
......worshipping every inch of her...Oh God, you made me cry. Love's plaint- keening softly after that break-up that hurts. god, haven't we tried it sometimes.. how well written, like a straight needle you don't see in the text, Oh why isn't forgiveness easier to get and give. Those two proud people. Why did Minervagive up on him.? Doesn't she know he loves her?
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Sorry to have made you cry ;-) I think Minerva's earlier experiences have made her leery of difficult relationships. We'll have to see how they end up!
This is gripping, fabulous. I agree, there shouild be many more reviews, I adored the quick knowledgeable vistas into student life in Paris - more of these, if possible.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Again, sorry to be so late in responding (am just catching up after a crushing work season!)Thanks for reading, and I'm glad you enjoyed the Paris scenes!
First off, thanks so much for the update! I've been in the mood for HP fanfiction lately, but if I (start to) read one more story that turns out to be focused on evil!Dumbledore I may swear off forever. It's quite depressing.This was up to your usual high standards. The look inside Alastor's head when he was trying to convince himself that it was really Minerva outside his door (and even after he let her in) was both believable and heart-breaking. If Minerva is determined to salvage their relationship she has some hard work ahead of her.I liked how Minerva didn't let Alastor chase her away, and how she subjected Albus to the same spells Alastor used on her -- and that Albus let her. I also liked that they convinced him to stay. He will be needed. I really liked Minerva's POV, how she tried to think only of helping Alastor, and making him comfortable. The last bit was good too.
“I don’t think there’s much I’d mind tonight.”It was perhaps a terrible thing to say, given everything that had transpired, but it was the truth. She’d think about the Dark Lord and Cedric Diggory and everything else tomorrow. Tonight, there was only the fact that Alastor still lived.Sometimes when things are bad, you have to focus only on the good things, or you just can't handle it. We know she's going to do her part (and if you continue this through DH she has a very rough patch coming) so it's good to see her at least get a good nights sleep.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Thanks.It was time to give Minerva and Alastor a bit of a break from the angst. They've been through a lot!Glad you enjoyed it.
You have outdone yourself. Again. I always enjoy seeing canon events from another POV, and I always enjoy Minerva's, but this is special, even so.First though, I loved seeing that Alastor still had some fight left, even after everything he's been through, and the glimpse we get here is just horrifying. But I was also very glad to learn that he's realized how much he screwed up with Minerva, and is even willing to admit it. I hope he stays willing...Minerva's thoughts about Harry were great. No, she probably wouldn't admit she favored him, and no, logical thinking really isn't his strong suite. I thought your description of Dumbledore in shock was probably quite accurate too. He had to have taken some time to assimilate everything, he's only human, after all. I was a little surprised to see how quick Severus was on the uptake, but then I realized that he knew something was up even before Harry returned -- he felt the mark burn when Voldemort called the Deatheaters from the graveyard, after all.I loved seeing Minerva's version of the Kiss, and her rant at Fudge was absolutely awesome.Then there's this:
"Alastor, it's Minerva.""Minerva?"His voice was thin and creaky, and the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard."Here I am, love," she said...."Alastor?""Hmm?""Are you-- are you all right?"It was a stupid question, but he didn't seem to mind. He grinned like a man drunk."Never better." He lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the light and looked up at her. "Jaysus, but you're beautiful."She let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob.Awwwww.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Thanks for the lovely comments.Glad you caught the bit about Severus. I think some people were confused by that!Best,Squibstress
So tickled to see this updated! I'm also quite thankful that Barty hasn't caught on that Minerva and Alastor had a thing together. Thank goodness for small favors, eh? He could really destroy her if he did.
Oh dear, I hope I haven't given you any ideas ... 
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
I'm really trying to get moving on this story.Ideas... ideas... 
Response from Fishy (Reviewer)
I also like how you contrasted real Alastor with impostor Alastor - aka Barty ... its quite a difference but similar enough to fool even some of his closest friends.I think I would like to see some of what our dear Alastor is thinking down in that trunk, but of course I am not trying to persuade you or anything. 
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
I'm so glad that worked for you, because it was a connundrum. In canon, JKR made Crouch sound so much like Moody that of course, no one twigged to the difference. I didn't want to do that, but there was a fine line between making him too much and too little like the real Alastor.Have you read Selmak's "The Steadfast Tin Soldier"? (It's on FFN.) She did a fabulous (and disturbing) job of imaginging what it would have been like for him in that trunk.(And it's a lovely bit of AM/MM.)
Response from Fishy (Reviewer)
Well then ... I suppose I'll just have to do that. In addition, as you probably already know, White Eyebrow also did a great job with his Moody in the trunk bit ... Alastor has been on my mind quite a lot these past few weeks ... with the new knowledge that I have of the surname ... who would have ever thought. All the more reason to love Alastor.
*groans* And again ... I forgot ... 
Well ... misclicked.
Oh ... forgot to hit the button for notification if you respond ...
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
I do that all the time.I also forget where I've left my car keys, my car, my glasses...
Well ... the last line surely took me by surprise ... way to advance time by leaps and bounds!Its been awhile since I've delved into your work, and Slant in particular ... I had to reread a few things and still others have me scratching my head .... "Frogs?" ... but anyway ... Alastor's stubborn idiocy is quite perfect really ... well parallelled to Albus' inability to allow himself to be loved ... seems they have both fallen - or dove - into that fortress of solitude.Your work is amazing, as always.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Tee, hee.Yeah, now that the business between Albus and Malcolm has been dealt with, I thought I should get start getting on with Minerva and Alastor."Frog" is a somewhat pejorative term for French person. (Alastor is not overly fond of the French.)Poor Minerva. The men in her life are somewhat foolish about love, aren't they?Thanks for sticking with the story, despite my eratic updates.
Woohoo! An update!I was happy to see Malcom and Eliane's marriage, and that the revelations about the past haven't hurt his relationship with his mother -- or his fathers. Minerva certainly seemed more relaxed than we've seen her in a while. The last sentence was a bit startling. It was good to see that Malcom will make her a grandmother, but I do hope that we see her again before then!I was sorry, but not surprised, to see Alastor continue his downward slide into paranoia. Since this is adhering to book canon (my least favorite thing about the story), his relationship with Minerva has to be distant enough for her to not suspect Crouch when the time comes, and any reconciliation between them would negate that.I'm not sure what to think about Albus. If he is unable to love, it appears to me to be because he has chosen to harden himself (with his 'iron will'), rather than it being his natural state. It's as though he fears love, or maybe what he might be capable of doing for love? In his thoughts he seemed almost relieved that he didn't feel like a father to Malcom. His reaction to the wedding was surprising, to say the least. It certainly didn't seem as though there was any happiness or joy in his tryst with Malquin, nor did it seem as though either of them expected there to be, so I have to wonder exactly what he was seeking -- a form of oblivion or denial, perhaps? I do wonder what might break through his facade (and I do think it is a facade, but then I've always liked Dumbledore, flaws and all). Anyway, it was great to be able to read this, and I hope you will be able to update again soon!
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Thanks for reading and reviewing.Sorry about the canon-compliance--it's just ingrained in me, I think--but there may be some more surprises.Whenever I write Albus I always have to confront what I see as the complications canon throws in my way. I love him, but he does some really awful things to people he supposedly cares for, so I suppose these fics are my way of trying to work that out. In this fic, whether or not he's actually capable of love is up to the reader.
Sorry too about the long interval. RL has thrown me a few curves, but I hope to get back to a more regular pattern of updates.Thanks for sticking with the story.
Response from dsky (Reviewer)
RL has a way of doing that.I am usually fairly rigid about canon myself. No matter how much I like a story, there's a little voice in the back of my head whispering 'but, but, but... that's not what/how it happened'. With HP though, there are so many conflicts, between the books, and interviews, and quasi-official websites, and Pottermore, that the only way to shut the voice up was to decide that only what's printed in PS/SS thru DH is canon. But it is all out there, and I can't un-know it, so I eventually decided, OK, if there are that many versions of the truth, I'll just pick the one(s!) I like best! (Everyone else does.) It lets me enjoy the RAMverse too, so that's all good.As far as Dumbledore is concerned, a lot of the negative things we learned were slanted through Rita Skeeter's pen, or his brother, or other people who didn't like him. He asked people to do a lot, but we're only privy to a miniscule part of whatever conversations went on, and he was the only general in a war with the future of the entire world at stake. He willingly died for it. People seem willing to give Snape a lot bigger break than they give Dumbledore, maybe because Snape turned out to be better than they thought (or maybe because Alan Rickman is so fantastic).I admit to only having read DH twice, and both of those a long time ago, so there may be some details I've forgotten, but I'm quite happy without them. I do love the universe though, especially the adults, and especially as expanded upon by FF writers. I can only take the kids in small doses, though. I do thank you for hours of entertainment, and your take on the characters and the universe is always entertaining.
*snip*
The door to Minerva's quarters banged open, and she swept through, dropping her bag on the table as she made a beeline for the liquor cabinet to pour herself two fingers of Cardhu. But she couldn't enjoy it; she was still too angry. She'd kept her temper in check all afternoon, but now it threatened to erupt full force and needed an outlet. She yanked her wand out of its pocket to point it at one of the cushions on her settee. It exploded in a riot of feathers, their indolent fluttering only stoking Minerva's ire. She Transfigured them into needles that hovered in the air, and imagined them pricking Sirius bloody Black until he screamed. Her fury was stemmed by the image but not scotched.I can go one better. She Transfigured the crimson velvet of the other cushion into a reasonable approximation of Black's too-handsome face, then sent the needles hurtling through the air to embed themselves in the cushion-cum-portrait. Black's fuzzy smirk changed to a silent scream of horror. The effort involved in the magic she'd just performed served its purpose, and she felt calm enough to have her drink.
*snip*
Holy CRAP! 
*dashes out of the room to avoid Minerva Wrath!*
Response from Fishy (Reviewer)
I think you have painted Black and Potter EXACTLY how I saw them from the books ... EXACTLY! I can so relate to Minerva's anger now .... those MORONS!
OH and ...
*snip*
"Everything all right, lamb?" He looked up from contemplating his dish. "Sure. Why?" "You didn't eat much dinner, and now you've barely touched your cream-crowdie. When you've lost your sweet tooth, I know something's wrong."
*snip*
*grins* Daddy's boy, eh? I love eeet! 
Response from Fishy (Reviewer)
*snip*
"Oh, Malcolm—" "How could he have no idea that you might end up pregnant if he slept with you? Was he a complete fool, or just a randy bastard?" "Don't you dare!" she shouted, and Malcolm recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "Mum—" "No, you have no right to judge him! I lied to him, and I used him, used our friendship. And he forgave me, even though I believe it nearly killed him to find that he had a son he couldn't raise. He wasn't— Malcolm?" He had taken two staggering steps backward and clapped a hand over his mouth.
*snip*
See there - see that right there? See this is why you are brilliant. You showed us HOW Malcolm figured it out ... you show us how brilliant Malcolm is ... see, you could have just said it, but how dull that would be, but you SHOW us ... Malcolm figures out who his father is BY his mother's reaction! Who is she loyal to a fault to ... who is she absolutely devoted to, without being in a romantic relationship? Yeah ... brilliant.
Response from Fishy (Reviewer)
*snip*
"Malcolm, wait, please." Her tone stopped him. "What?" "Come sit down. I have something else to tell you."
*snip*
ARG! The only thing I can think of is ... um the rat incident ... but ARG! Cliffhangers are not KIND! 
Response from Fishy (Reviewer)
*taps foot* If I am going to submit these silly reviews, I bloody well expect you to at least read them! *snort*
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
My first response was "????" But then I saw that you submitted the review in July. Don't know why I didn't see them then, but a million apologies!I can't take total credit for the Marauders; the incident I alluded to was something JKR wrote as a fundraiser. (But Minerva's reaction is all my own, LOL!)Yes, I think Malcolm is pretty clever, like his parents.Thanks for the kind words!
*snip*
Malcolm didn't say anything, and Alastor prodded him. "Answer my question. Do you want kids?"
"What I want or don't want doesn't come into it. I can't have children."
*snip*
Now that sounds just like someone else we both know ... perfect really, Malcolm does seem to resemble his father more than his mother, the way you wrote him, and ironically, he doesn't even know his father yet.
*snip*
He didn't see. He didn't see at all, and that was fine by Alastor. It was better that way. Better Malcolm should think it was animosity rather than fear. He and Minerva didn't need to be lumbered with a useless old cripple who was prone to hearing things that weren't there. They both had better things to do.
Malcolm said, "She only wants to help. She cares about you."
"Don't need her help."
It sounded harsh and ungrateful, and it was. He was suddenly angry, and he couldn't be grateful that a woman who once loved him now felt sorry enough for him to spend her precious summer days caring for the gimp he'd become.
*snip*
Pride is a terrible emotion that does nothing but isolate us from those that care about us as well as cause us to put ourselves on pedestals, and we all know there is only one way down from a pedestal.
*snip*
She had a word—several words—and by the time she finished, all traces of Spleen's smile had evaporated, and he was stammering apologies and nodding his head in vigorous agreement when she told him that she expected to hear that Senior Auror Alastor Moody had received nothing but the most respectful and compassionate treatment, lest Spleen find himself answering to her, to Malcolm, and to Albus Dumbledore, Auror Moody's dear friend.
*snip*
I like this bit ... Minerva couldn't just say 'my family' but that's what she means ... which again causes me to wonder ... now that Malcolm knows - well in the next chappie anyway ... will he change his name ... I wouldn't think to Dumbledore or Albus would probably have a cow, but to McGonagall, I'd think that would be appropriate.
Spleen reminds me of a nurse I had when I busted my head open as a kid. He was so nasty to me. You do a very good job of making him absolutely awful. I so hate false concern and congeniality. 
And I can see Alastor being a royal pain of a patient. *nods* I think that fits. No cooperation on his part what so ever. Much as I love him, I think I'd have to smack him here.
Did I mention that your work was brilliant? OH I did? 
OK well never mind then *whistles*
Shit. You are an evil, evil woman. I hate cliffhangers.
Malcolm took it much better than I thought he would, but then, in a way, he's been facing the same choice, so he should understand. And he's thoughtful, and intelligent, and... did I mention that I like Malcolm? I hope he takes the next bit half as well.
When she didn't respond, he continued. "How many mad Macnairs do you think I'd father? One? Two? How many is too many?"
There was a roaring in her ears, and her belly attempted to turn over.
Not now.
Somehow, she'd convinced herself that Malcolm wouldn't see things the way she had done as a young woman faced with the same dilemma. That worry had been packed away with the last of her wedding silver and Gerald's clothes when she'd fled the horrors of her marriage for the promise of new freedom in her native land. She realised now that her unwillingness to admit the seriousness of Malcolm's feelings for Eliane Giroux had perhaps been another way of avoiding the issue.
Well said. It's frightening sometimes, how easy it can be to convince ourselves that what we want to be true, is true, and it takes a major setback for us to re-examine our beliefs.
A familiar anger gripped her, and she crossed her arms tightly around her body. What did her son--or any of her students--know of difficult choices? They, who had been born into a post-Grindelwald world, with freedoms they enjoyed without understanding how much it had cost. And now there was another war because of it, because so many people failed to understand that, yes, constant vigilance was required to keep those hard-won freedoms for everyone, witch and wizard, pure-blood and Muggle-born.
Well said again, and true about so many things.
"How could he have no idea that you might end up pregnant if he slept with you? Was he a complete fool, or just a randy bastard?"
"Don't you dare!" she shouted, and Malcolm recoiled as if he'd been slapped.
"Mum--
"No, you have no right to judge him! I lied to him, and I used him, used our friendship. And he forgave me, even though I believe it nearly killed him to find that he had a son he couldn't raise. He wasn't-- Malcolm?"
He had taken two staggering steps backward and clapped a hand over his mouth.
I loved this. How quickly she rose to Albus' defense, and how quickly Malcolm figured out who it was when she did.
I liked the bit at the beginning too -- about how immature James and Sirius were, and how she channeled her anger. I always thought the Marauders went from prats to saints a little too quickly. At least here you show that it took a little time.
Well done once again. I've been anticipating this chapter since almost the beginning of the story, and I was not disappointed. I think I could have quoted the whole thing. I love Minerva and Malcolm together, and I liked seeing things from Minerva's POV. I am eagerly awaiting the next installment!
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
I truly didn't intend for this to be a cliffie, but the chapter was getting long.I think it helped that Minerva's news meant Malcolm could follow his heart. I'm glad this chapter met expectations. I've been thinking about it since I first conceived this story (pun intended), although I didn't think it would take me quite so long to get here!The opening bit about James and Sirius was inspired by a 500-word story JKR wrote to benefit EnglishPEN, so I used it for my nefarious purposes. I think they were abominably immature and cocky, which I can only imagine drove Minerva to drink, LOL!
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
I truly didn't intend for this to be a cliffie, but the chapter was getting long.I think it helped that Minerva's news meant Malcolm could follow his heart. I'm glad this chapter met expectations. I've been thinking about it since I first conceived this story (pun intended), although I didn't think it would take me quite so long to get here!The opening bit about James and Sirius was inspired by a 500-word story JKR wrote to benefit EnglishPEN, so I used it for my nefarious purposes. I think they were abominably immature and cocky, which I can only imagine drove Minerva to drink, LOL!
Whew! Alastor just can't catch a break, can he? This section:
There was no such diffidence with this one. Alastor was being pulled forcefully in a direction he was sure he didn't care to go.There was no air, and it was fast becoming a question of who'd pass out first.
I'm god damned if it'll be me.
His consciousness was funnelling away. Alastor marshalled his last bit of magical energy and concentrated on a single stone in the floor of the Ministry cell--the one with the scorch mark where a supposedly Petrified collar had surprised him by firing a wordless curse--just that stone and nothing else.
There was a burst of light, and his chest expanded. At the same moment, his back hit something hard enough that if he'd had any air left in his lungs, it would have been knocked out of him. Something warm and wet was on top of him, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the Death Eater's eyes only millimetres from his. They were lifeless and staring.
is just outstanding. I really feel and see the whole sequence.
I loved seeing Malcolm again, all grown up and still with Eliane. I loved that he stepped up and became the 'adult' to comfort Minerva when she needed it. I had wondered about his reaction to the breakup, Alastor really was more a father to him than anyone else. (She obviously hasn't told him Albus is his father. Not that I'm surprised by that.) I'd guess Minerva told Malcolm about the break-up the way she did because she didn't know what else to say -- they broke up in September, and she just wrote a short note at the end of a letter in October? It was probably as hard for her to write it as it was for him to read it. And three years on, clearly she still loves Alastor, but I don't think either of them could change enough to make it work between them long-term.
As much as I love Malcolm, I always get a sense of foreboding when he is around, probably because I'm afraid you're going to up the ante on the angst, and he's Minerva's real weakness. He's also probably my favorite OC in any story I've read. He's just so real, and you've done a wonderful job of getting inside his head as he's grown-up, giving him age-appropriate reactions and thoughts. That and he seems like a thoroughly decent guy.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Yeah, this is sort of the "abuse Alastor" section of the story.I'm so glad you enjoy Malcolm! He is Minerva's greatest weakness, as you say, and they do have some unfinished business, so there will be a bit more of him.
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Yeah, this is sort of the "abuse Alastor" section of the story.I'm so glad you enjoy Malcolm! He is Minerva's greatest weakness, as you say, and they do have some unfinished business, so there will be a bit more of him.
I adore this version of Alastor so much that it really hurts to see him becoming a lonely, suspicious drunk. Which is probably a compliment to your writing, but it still makes me sad!
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Thanks. I love Alastor too. We always hurt the one we love. At least, writers do. I strongly suspect we're all secret sadists.Thanks for reading and commenting!
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Thanks. I love Alastor too. We always hurt the one we love. At least, writers do. I strongly suspect we're all secret sadists.Thanks for reading and commenting!
An update! An update! [Happy Dance]
Oh, how sad! She's keeping things from him to avoid the arguments, and he's setting tests for her to make her prove she cares, and lashing out to get some reaction, and after Gerald she doesn't have it in her to sustain that kind of relationship, and it's all going downhill, and they're just making each other unhappy -- and it's just too, too, sad.
She found she didn't really want to know, and it shamed her.And
Despite the water she'd just had, her mouth was dry again, and the creeping sensation of guilt picked at her chest.
And
She said, "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to worry. I was--
And
"And you didn't trust me?"
"Should I?"
Minerva has enough guilt over Malcom's conception and what she did to Gerald. She doesn't need manufactured guilt because she's trying to avoid conflict with Alastor because he can't accept her choices. He's right too, about how very, very dangerous it is, but he's handling it all wrong, and he's so close to the edge psychologically that after dealing with Gerald and his father, she can't handle it in Alastor too, but she's the only thing keeping him grounded, tenuous as it is... It's hard to see him spiraling out of control. Thank goodness for Kingsley.
As always, you make me empathize with everyone. I wonder how well Minerva is handling it?
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Yes, finally an update! I was sorry to do it with such a morose chapter, but them's the breaks.Yes, it's a guilt-and-misunderstanding fest all around.Thanks for reviewing!
Response from Squibstress (Author of A Slant-Told Tale)
Yes, finally an update! I was sorry to do it with such a morose chapter, but them's the breaks.Yes, it's a guilt-and-misunderstanding fest all around.Thanks for reviewing!
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