Chapter Seventeen
Chapter 17 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
20 May 1961
Minerva felt Alastor's eyes on her as she gathered her things and began putting on her clothes. He had the damndest way of peering at people...her most of all, it seemed...and she could tell he was doing it even if her back was to him.
She had just fastened her skirt when he asked, "Why are you always in such a hurry to leave my bed?"
She turned to him with a look of surprise. "I'm not. It's just that I have to get back to the school . . ."
He said, "No, you don't. You aren't due back until lunch tomorrow...you're allowed the entire day and night off."
"I just don't think it's a good idea for me to stay out all night; people might begin to talk."
"Let them."
"Alastor..." she said, warning in her voice.
"If anyone asked...and I can't think who'd have the bollocks...you could always say you were visiting your parents or your brother," he said. "Or you could just tell them to bugger off; it's no one's business, after all."
"I don't want the students leaping to any mistaken conclusions . . ." she remonstrated.
"Not so mistaken . . ." he said with a grin, grasping her wrist and pulling her down to the bed, kissing her still-bare shoulder.
"Please, Alastor," she said, disengaging herself from him and standing once again. "My private life is private, and I just don't like the idea of anyone speculating about it."
He got up and pulled on his undershorts and vest as she located and donned her blouse, her fingers making quick, efficient work of the tiny buttons. Once she had run a brush through her hair and charmed it back into its neat bun, she took a brief look in the mirror.
"Very respectable, Professor," he said, coming up behind her and kissing her exposed neck, and she gave him a small smile.
He followed her into the sitting room, and she let him put his arms around her and kiss her. When he had released her lips, he asked, "What about the summer?"
"What about it?"
"Come on holiday with me."
"Alastor, I'll have Malcolm with me."
"Send him to your parents for a week."
"I can't," she said, avoiding his eyes.
"Then bring him."
"Alastor!"
"What, Minerva?" he asked, a bit of exasperation finally starting to tell in his voice.
She looked at him in disbelief. "I'll not have my son thinking I'm . . ."
"What? Sleeping with me?"
"Yes."
He took her hands and drew her to the sofa.
"Minerva, Malcolm is sixteen years old. Old enough to be left for a week with his grandparents and old enough to understand that his mother isn't a Vestal Virgin."
"Please, Alastor..."
"Or is it me that's the problem?" he asked. "Do you just not want him to know you're seeing me?" There was no anger or resentment in his voice, only curiosity.
"Of course not."
"Then why have I not met him?"
She sighed. "I don't know, Alastor . . . the time just never seemed quite right. It isn't because I'm hiding you . . . or maybe I am . . . but it isn't you . . . this is just unfamiliar terrain for me."
He lifted each of her hands and kissed the insides of her wrists. "I know it is. I sometimes forget that. I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. I never thought of how it might make you feel. And . . . I would like you to meet Malcolm. Truly. I'm just nervous about it. I'm not sure how he'll feel about it."
"I imagine it will be awkward at first; I'll not lie about that. But I also imagine he wants his mum to be happy, don't you think?"
"Yes, I think he does. And you do make me happy, Alastor," she said quietly.
"Do I?" he asked, his voice taking on the slightly gruff tone that she had come to realise was his way of masking his deeper emotions.
"Yes. You do," she said.
"I'm glad," he said, kissing her again quickly.
"Would you like to come to tea? I could introduce you then," she said.
"I would. But only if you're sure, Minerva."
Minerva was not sure. Not sure at all, but she said, "I am. I'll ask Malcolm to come to my quarters for tea on Sunday next, then, if you're free?"
"I'll make certain I am."
As he saw her to the door of his flat, he added, "And think about summer. If all goes well with my meeting Malcolm...and he doesn't hex my bollocks off...I'd really like to spend a few days with you somewhere warm. Somewhere you won't need so many bloody clothes . . ."
She laughed in spite of herself. "Honestly, Alastor . . . you're as bad as some of the students."
"You might need to give me detention, then, Madam Professor," he said. "All right, off you go, now . . ." He gave her a light swat on the rear as she passed through the doorway, and she paused to glare at him, prompting him to grin back at her as she had known he would.
/***/
Alastor was surprised to receive Minerva's owl the following Tuesday inviting him to tea at Hogwarts the following Sunday afternoon.
He had expected her to back out of it or to find an excuse to postpone it, but he had decided not to push her any further on it. Minerva liked directness, but she did not like to be cornered. He had realised it very shortly after they had begun seeing one another. She was an odd duck, Minerva McGonagall, he thought to himself, which was probably part of what attracted him to her. Strong and confident one moment, strangely skittish the next. It had taken him a little time to work out that the skittishness appeared when something...or someone...threatened to broach her emotional defences. He liked being the someone, but he tried to take care not to intrude too far. She'd have to make up her own mind to invite him in, and in her own good time.
The first time he had kissed her, two weeks after their first date, she had stayed strangely stiff and unresponsive, and he had thought perhaps she simply didn't find him attractive. But then, the following weekend, she had kissed him back with enough enthusiasm to dispel that notion quite handily. And she had been the one to suggest, three weeks later and with no coyness, that they repair to his bedroom after the glass of Irish whisky and several heated kisses they had shared when she had accompanied him back to his flat after their dinner.
When she had suddenly seemed to waver once they had undressed, he had thought she was simply shy, and he had been surprised again when she laughed (kindly, but still . . .) at his attempt to put her at ease by telling her she was beautiful.
As they had lain down on his bed, she had stopped his wandering hands long enough to say, "You should know, I'm not very good at this . . ."
He had tried to soothe her, saying, "It's all right, Minerva. Your just being here is better than anything that's happened to me in a long time."
She kissed him, then continued, insisting, "I just don't want you to be surprised . . . or disappointed. Despite my age, I'm not very experienced."
He wasn't quite sure what she was trying to tell him, so he asked, "I won't be disappointed, but I'm wondering what makes you tell me this. Did you and your husband not share a bed often?"
"No, we did. But there wasn't much in the way of variety. He liked things . . . a certain way."
"I see," Alastor had said. "Meat and potatoes man, then?"
"Exactly," she had said, and he was glad to see her give a small smile at his weak attempt at humour. "For example," she said, reaching down to touch his hard penis, "I'm not even sure how to touch you properly."
Alastor had been afraid he might come at just the touch of her fingers on him like that, but he didn't. He moved his hand down to cover hers and proceeded to guide hand her as she stroked him, saying, "How about this, Minerva? We'll work it all out together: what I like, what you like, and...Merlin, we'd better stop that or I won't last!" He had removed her hand from him then, and began touching her.
Together, and with humour and more tenderness than Alastor had known he possessed, they had felt their way through this first, slightly awkward, encounter, and as the months had passed, he had been pleased to discover a few things she liked very much indeed. He had also been pleased to find that, despite her avowed inexperience...or perhaps because of it...she was relatively uninhibited, and as anxious to give pleasure as to receive it.
He had not expected her to introduce him to her friends and family...she was, he knew, an extremely private person, and as a teacher at Hogwarts, she had to be very discreet...but her ongoing refusal to spend an entire night with him had begun to bother him. He was beginning to feel a bit like a...what did the Muggles call it?...a gigolo. Yes, that was the term. He didn't think it was intentional on Minerva's part, but it was clearly time to push her, just a bit, for a more definitive declaration of their relationship.
So it was that one unseasonably warm Sunday in late May, Alastor found himself trudging up the moss-covered path to the great oak doors he had last passed through almost twenty years previously. Minerva had met him at the gates and showed him to her quarters, telling him to make himself comfortable while she got the tea. Malcolm was due in ten minutes, she said.
Alastor had a look around, searching first and automatically for any alternate exits from the room...some bits of training were so ingrained you couldn't shake them even if you wanted to...and took stock of Minerva's personal living space, greedy to glean a bit more information about the woman he was coming to believe he loved.
The room was sparsely but tastefully furnished in creams and browns, punctuated by occasional accents of Gryffindor crimson and gold. An almost masculine-looking, room, he thought. Something was odd, though. At first, he couldn't put his finger on it, then it came to him: the walls were bare, as was the mantel. There were apparently no family heirlooms, no mementoes, not even any photographs from Minerva's past or of her family, anywhere in the room. He would have thought there might be at least one or two pictures of Malcolm, or even of Minerva's disappeared (or "late" as Moody privately thought) husband. He wondered fleetingly if she had taken them down because of his visit.
Minerva came back out bearing the tea tray and some biscuits. "I thought we'd start with this, and I'll have a house-elf bring up some scones in a bit."
"This is fine, Minerva. There's no need to go to any trouble on my account," he said.
"Well, in truth, it isn't on your account, Alastor. Elgar...he's the house-elf that serves me...makes a ginger-lemon curd that Malcolm especially loves."
"I see. Softening the blow of meeting me?" Alastor asked with a wink.
"Not exactly, but it can't hurt," she said.
Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Alastor, whose eye was trained to notice such things, saw Minerva's shoulders stiffen almost imperceptibly.
She crossed to the door and admitted a surprisingly tall young man with brown hair tied back in a ponytail and unusually blue eyes. He had a light dusting of hair on his upper lip and chin that appeared lighter than the hair on his head.
Minerva said, "Alastor, I'd like you to meet my son, Malcolm Macnair. Malcolm, this is Alastor Moody."
The two men grasped hands, Malcolm saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
"Likewise, Mr Macnair," replied Moody.
"Please sit," said Minerva, her voice just a pitch or two above normal. "I'll just ask Elgar to bring the scones."
A moment later, a middle-aged (by Alastor's reckoning) house-elf wearing a Hogwarts tea-towel bearing a small red and gold crest popped in and loaded the tray with plates of warm, sweet-smelling scones and a dish of what Alastor supposed was the ginger-lemon curd. The elf then popped out with a quick bow.
As neither his hostess nor her progeny appeared ready to jump into conversation, Alastor said, "So, Mr Macnair, your mother tells me you play Chaser for Gryffindor . . ."
"Yes, sir. And please call me Malcolm, Mr Moody."
Alastor nodded, and Malcolm asked, "Are you interested in Quidditch?"
"Indeed, I am. Used to Beat for my old Ravenclaw team. We won the Quidditch cup in my fourth year."
"That's wonderful," said the boy, eyeing the scones surreptitiously.
His mother noticed and said, "Go ahead, Malcolm; I know you're dying to have at the scones. You too, Alastor. I know you don't care much for sweet things, but Elgar's ginger-lemon curd really is very good."
"Well, I'll have to give it a go, then," said Alastor with a smile at Malcolm. He helped himself to a scone and some curd, and the three sat munching and sipping for a few minutes before Alastor said, "This is good, I must say. Is Elgar a kitchen-elf, then? As well as serving you?"
"Oh, no," Minerva replied. "Actually, he was my family's elf, and when I came to work at Hogwarts, he came with me. He's still technically a McGonagall family elf, but he does have other duties around the castle."
"Unusual, isn't it? I mean for Hogwarts to employ a privately-owned elf?" asked Alastor.
"Yes, I suppose, but Albus made a special exception at my request. Once I moved here, he wouldn't have had much to do at my parents' home. I didn't want him to be unhappy. He is like family to me."
"And to me," added Malcolm. "He taught me to read . . . well, with Mum's help," he said with a glance at Minerva, who just smiled at him.
"That's unusual, too, isn't it?" asked Alastor, who didn't know much about house-elves. "Reading, I mean . . ."
"Perhaps," said Minerva. "Although I'm not really sure. As far as I know, all the McGonagall elves could read and write, but I don't know if that's common. It was helpful when my brother and I were growing up, as the elves could help us with our lessons when my mother and father were unavailable."
Must be nice, Alastor thought to himself, remembering the old biddy of a witch he and his sisters had been sent to to learn their letters and numbers. In exchange, the Moody children had done all the cooking, cleaning, and gardening for the woman...by hand, since they were too young to use magic...after the day's lessons were ended.
The three chatted further about house-elves, Quidditch, and Moody's work as an Auror until Minerva excused herself for a moment.
Alastor saw Malcolm eyeing him subtly as the boy pretended to be examining his teacup, and decided to address what he thought was bothering him.
"Is there anything you'd like to ask me, Malcolm? About me and your mother?"
The boy's eyes widened slightly, "No, sir. Well . . . that is, Mum didn't say as much, but I gathered that you two are . . . going out together. That's why she wanted me to meet you."
"That's right." Alastor leant in slightly and spoke quietly. "Between you and me, Malcolm, I think she was a bit nervous about it."
"Why?"
"Afraid you might feel funny about it, I guess."
"No," said Malcolm. "Not really. I mean . . . it's a bit odd, I'll admit, but . . . you seem . . . nice. And she seems happy. Just . . ." Malcolm hesitated.
"Just what, lad?"
"Just . . . be kind to her. She deserves a little kindness," said Malcolm.
"Aye. She does at that. And I'll do my best," answered Alastor earnestly.
Minerva returned just then, and the three settled back into conversation.
Later, as he gave the password to enter his flat, he thought to himself that the afternoon had gone well. Minerva had finally seemed to relax a bit, and after his brief but frank conversation with Malcolm, the boy had seemed more at ease, too.
There was something about the lad, Alastor thought as he sat down at the table in his small kitchen to do a bit of paperwork. Something vaguely familiar. The young man didn't look much like his mother, Alastor thought. Perhaps a bit around the mouth . . . but Malcolm reminded him of someone. Maybe it was his father. Alastor had known Gerald Macnair...had been only a year ahead of the Slytherin in school...but not well. They had been in different Houses, and their paths hadn't crossed in any of the extra-curricular activities Alastor had participated in. Still, it was possible that he was picking up on a familial resemblance.
Alastor made a mental note to see if he could dredge up any old pictures of Macnair. It wasn't important, he knew, but the question of Malcolm's appearance had reminded him that he had long meant to look a bit more closely into Gerald Macnair's disappearance. His Auror's sense of Something Not Quite Right was pricking at the back of Alastor's consciousness, and he knew it wouldn't let him alone until he investigated. Not that Alastor thought for a moment that Minerva had had anything do to with it. Alastor thought the man was dead...probably killed by a creditor, if the rudimentary investigation he had already conducted was any indication...but it would help him to rest just a bit easier if he knew that the man wouldn't suddenly come barging back into Minerva's life like a rampaging Hippogriff.
At the very least, thought Alastor, perhaps he could help Minerva to finally and completely close the book on that chapter of her life. Maybe then she'd be more at ease with herself, and with him.
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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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