Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter 25 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
16 August 1963
Alastor stood and wiped the tears from his eyes while Minerva silently conjured a handkerchief so he could wipe his mouth.
Gods, how he hated to puke!
Apparition had always made him sick to his stomach, but he'd learned not to show it for fear of being seen as weak in front of his Auror mates, and he could usually manage to keep his lunch safely inside him, even for fairly long hops around Britain. But Apparating across a large body of water was an entirely different matter. He had a trans-Channel licence, of course, but he hadn't used it much. He let those other sods...the ones who were panting to move up in Magical Law Enforcement...take the occasional international assignments. Alastor Moody was content to fight Dark wizards in his own backyard; Merlin knew there were enough of 'em about, even without a fearless leader to get them riled up and organised.
Yet here he was, depositing his morning kippers into the Cherbourg dust.
Minerva silently Vanished the mess he had made, and after a few minutes she asked, "Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah. It always affects me like this," he admitted. "I'll be good as new in a minute."
Minerva looked no worse for the long hop, and Alastor tried not to feel resentful that a woman who couldn't weigh any more than eight stone soaking wet had a stronger stomach than an Auror who tipped the scales at almost thirteen.
When he felt more in control of his upper digestive system, he said, "I reckon I'm ready now," and Minerva gave him a small smile.
Offering her arm, she said, "I'll just take us to an alley I know in Paris. Malcolm's going to meet us there."
Sure enough, as soon as Alastor got his bearings, Minerva's son was there, clapping him warmly on the back and directing them to a bistro in le Quartier des Mages, Paris' slightly larger equivalent of Diagon Alley.
"My flat isn't too large," Malcolm said apologetically, "so I thought we'd lunch here."
Alastor didn't care much for French food...a bit too nancy for his taste, he found...but Minerva ate with a gusto he'd rarely seen back home.
As they ate, Minerva interrogated Malcolm about his apprenticeship until her son put up an exasperated hand.
"Mum, slow down; I've only just started with Maître Legrasse. He barely even lets me near the cauldron yet."
"Well, what does he have you working on?" Minerva enquired.
"He's got a new de-aging potion he's testing out," Malcolm said. "He's the guinea pig. And I help him record the results in the log."
"De-aging?" Minerva said, wrinkling her nose. "I'll never understand the quest for eternal youth. There's so much you potioneers could be doing, and it seems as if half of you are hard at work trying to find ways to make us all more attractive to one another."
Malcolm gave a good-natured shrug. "I just do what he tells me, Mum. You know how it is to be an apprentice." He lowered his voice so that Minerva and Alastor had to lean in to hear him properly. "But this potion isn't just cosmetic. Maître Legrasse is hoping that this will actually reverse some of the oxidative stress on cells, not just mask it superficially. I'm pretty excited about it, actually."
Minerva appeared relieved. "Well, that's fine then," she said, and tucked into her Tarte Tatin with a vigour that brought a smile to Alastor's face.
They all repaired to Malcolm's tiny flat...more of a garret, it was...in Montmartre. Malcolm was obviously proud of it; his Transfiguration skills had clearly helped him make it more liveable, and Minerva and Alastor made the requisite noises of approval. Alastor laughed when Minerva cast a few cleaning spells when Malcolm went to the loo.
The group went to dinner...in a small Muggle restaurant in the neighbourhood this time...before Minerva and Alastor bade Malcolm goodnight and went back to their hotel in le Quartier des Mages.
Minerva was clearly pleased to see how well her son had settled in to life as an apprentice potioneer in Paris, and Alastor allowed himself to be pleased along with her, although he couldn't fathom why anyone would want to spend two years studying potions. Especially given Malcolm's prowess with a wand...the boy would have made one hell of an Auror, but Alastor supposed it would have given Minerva a heart attack to have her son join her lover in such a dangerous profession. And the boy seemed content.
The next day, Minerva went to have brunch with Malcolm and his master, Eustache Legrasse, and Alastor begged off, claiming a desire to do a bit of research into his French relatives. He didn't like lying to Minerva, but no good could come of her knowing exactly what he was up to at this juncture. He'd tell her about it if anything came of his research, and she'd surely understand why he'd kept it quiet.
It was a frustrating morning for Alastor, whose French could most charitably be described as rudimentary. After some back-and-forth with the clerk at the Biblioteque Magique, he finally sat down at a splintery carrel with a stack of old newspapers.
After two hours of painstakingly reviewing several weeks' worth of Le Sorcier Libre, he found what he was looking for. Or thought he had.
On the front page below the fold of the 18 September 1956 edition was a small picture of Gerald and Minerva on what must have been their wedding day. Macnair wore a loopy grin as he was clapped on the back by several arms. Minerva's smile...more like a grimace, really...didn't change over the few seconds' worth of motion in the photo.
Below the picture was another photo; this one of an impressively-robed and moustachioed wizard nodding soberly at the camera. The caption read: Le Chevalier Petrus Berquier. Alastor hated him on sight.
He managed to get what he thought was the gist of the headline...this Berquier berk was being questioned in Macnair's disappearance...but gave up on the accompanying article. Alastor spent another ninety minutes going through the remaining newspapers, finding only one more story that mentioned Berquier and Macnair.
The desk clerk was impatient with Alastor's lousy French, but he finally managed to convey to her what he needed, and she made him understand that the charmed parchment would cost three Sous per sheet. When the transaction had been conducted, and Alastor drew his wand to begin magically copying his pages to the parchment, the witch made a hissing sound that Alastor had previously associated with angry cats. He looked at her questioningly, and she pointed to a sign that read: "Defense de Jeter des Sorts dans le Salon des Livres!!"
Alastor gave her a helpless shrug, and she frowned and pointed again. He got it after a moment...no spellcasting in the main library...and groped for his phrasebook French.
"Okay, okay," he said. "Um . . . où?"
The woman pointed to the left, saying, "Dans le couloir là . . . deuxième porte."
"Yeah, okay, thanks . . . er . . . merçi."
As he turned away, he heard the witch mutter, "Espèce d'idiot Anglais . . ."
Now that he understood clearly.
"That's Irish idiot to you, yeh great, fecking cow," he said through gritted teeth, although he knew the bitch couldn't hear him.
There was a short queue to get into the door marked "Salon de Magie-Copie", and Alastor got in the back of it, hoping the room would turn out to be what he needed.
When his turn came, the attendant was fairly helpful, letting Alastor know in passable English that he had to supply his own parchment...Alastor held up his recent purchase...and that he could cast the copying spell himself, or that, for an extra two Sous per page, the attendant could do it for him.
Alastor chose the first option, and when he was done, he took the opportunity to ask the man for directions to the men's. The fellow told him in pleasant English, tipped his cap, and wished him "bon après-midi," and Alastor's faith in French civil servants was partly restored.
Shrinking the copied parchments, Alastor slipped them into his cloak pocket and headed back to the hotel to meet Minerva and Malcolm for the sightseeing Minerva insisted he partake of.
After seeing Notre Dame and La Madeleine, Minerva proclaimed herself famished, and the three slipped into a bistro for an early dinner.
As she was putting out the lamp that evening in the hotel, Minerva asked Alastor, "Did you find what you were looking for?"
"No, not really," said Alastor, forestalling any further discussion by asking Minerva, "What did you think of Legrasse?"
"I don't know exactly," she replied. "He's rather quiet when the topic isn't potions. Although he was quite complimentary of Malcolm."
"I'm sure he was," said Alastor. "He's lucky to get such a bright lad, and I'm sure he knows he had a lot of competition."
"Yes," agreed Minerva.
Alastor said, "I was surprised Malcolm chose potions over Transfiguration."
"I imagine he wanted to avoid following too closely in his mother's footsteps. Besides, you can't deny that potions is potentially a more lucrative field," Minerva remarked.
"True," said Alastor. "But were you disappointed?"
"No. Not as long as he's happy with what he's doing, and he seems so at the moment."
"What about Dumbledore? After all those private lessons, he mustn't have been too chuffed about Malcolm's deciding against taking Madam Marchbanks' offer."
"Well, the lessons weren't all about Transfiguration. Albus helped Malcolm with a number of things."
"Really? What kinds of things?"
"Oh, this and that. Things Malcolm was especially interested in," Minerva said. "As a favour to me."
"That was good of him," said Alastor.
"Mmm," was Minerva's only response, and Alastor suddenly wondered if the quarrel she had had with Dumbledore had been about Malcolm. That would certainly explain how upset she had been. She and Alastor hadn't spoken of it again, and Minerva seemed to have recovered from whatever had happened, so he didn't bring it up again. But he couldn't help wondering.
The three spent the following day at the Louvre and the Musée d'Orsay until Alastor declared he couldn't stand to look at one more fuzzy old Muggle painting. Malcolm was rather insistent that they return to the same bistro they had lunched in the day Alastor and Minerva had arrived, which both Alastor and Minerva found somewhat tiresome, but Alastor was fatigued enough from meandering about the museums that he helped Malcolm argue his mother down.
The reason for Malcolm's enthusiasm for the tiny wizarding establishment shortly became evident in the form of the petite blonde waitress who came to take their order.
"Ah, Malcolm!" she cried when she arrived at the table, "Tu m'as manqué hier." She blushed (most attractively, in Alastor's estimation) when she saw the look Minerva gave her.
"Oh, je suis désolée, madame . . . monsieur," the girl said with a quick curtsey.
"That's all right, Eliane." Turning to his mother, Malcolm said, "Mum, this is Eliane Géroux. Eliane, this is my mother, Minerva McGonagall and her friend, Alastor Moody."
"I am very 'appy to meet you, Madame McGonagall, Monsieur Moody," Eliane said, bobbing another curtsey.
"The pleasure is all ours, Miss Géroux," said Alastor. "You're a friend of Malcolm's, I take it?"
"Yes, she is," Malcolm said quickly, and Alastor didn't fail to see Minerva's raised eyebrow.
Eliane said, "Oui, but now I am meant to be working," giving Malcolm an apologetic smile. "So, may I take your orders?"
The orders duly made, Eliane hurried off to the kitchen.
Alastor decided to see how long it would take Minerva to begin the inquisition. She managed to wait until Eliane had brought the wine and disappeared once again, Malcolm watching her walk away rather than attending to what Alastor had been telling him about the latest exploits of the Ministry's most hapless Auror, John Dawlish.
"Did you meet this . . . Eliane here at the restaurant?" Minerva enquired as soon as the girl's shapely behind disappeared behind the kitchen doors.
"Hmm? Oh . . . yes," said Malcolm, turning his attention back to the table. "It was the first day of my apprenticeship and I was absolutely certain it would be my last. I'd mucked up a potion, you see . . . a minor one, but still . . . quite embarrassing it was," he confessed. "I came in here for a spot of lunch, and I guess I looked so pathetic that Eliane took pity on me. She brought me a glass of the house wine, and when I said I hadn't ordered it, she said, 'C'est cadeau'...it's on the house.
"She told me I looked like I needed cheering up." When he noticed the look Minerva was giving him...and Alastor could barely contain his laughter at the sight...Malcolm said, "Oh, Mum . . . it wasn't like that, honestly. She was just being kind.
"Anyway," he continued, "I um . . . I ended up eating dinner here the next day . . . I had stayed late at the lab, and she was just about to leave, so I . . . I invited her to sit down with me. There was nobody else in the place, so she did. She asked me what I had been so sad about, and when I told her, she didn't laugh at me. She was just . . . really sympathetic. It turns out she's working here...it's her aunt's place, by the way...and she's working here until she can earn enough money to do a Laurea magistrale in magical astronomy at the University of Bologna."
Alastor asked, "Laurea magistrale?"
"Yes. It's their equivalent of a mastery," Malcolm answered. "The less magically-dependent disciplines are integrated into small magical colleges within the big Muggle universities," he explained. "The Italians are big on magical-Muggle relations."
"They would be," remarked Minerva drily.
At that moment, Eliane reappeared with their meals, so the discussion of her merits was curtailed.
When they got back to the hotel, Minerva was quieter than usual, and Alastor couldn't resist goading her, just a little.
"So Malcolm's got himself a little French girlfriend."
Minerva turned with tightly pursed lips. "I'm sure it's nothing serious," she said and went back to brushing out her hair.
"I don't know, Minerva . . . you know what they say about these French girls...oh, la la!"
This time, when she turned, she gave him the full weight of the McGonagall glare.
"Oh, come on, Minerva," he said. "The boy has a right to a little relaxation . . . a little companionship."
"Yes, I know," said Minerva. "But . . . she's a waitress . . ."
Well, well, well!
He said, "Look out, Minerva . . . your pure blood is showing."
"Now, that's not fair!" she said. "It has nothing to do with that."
"Oh? Then what does it have to do with?" he enquired gently.
She looked flustered for a moment, then said, "It's . . . it's just . . ." Her shoulders slumped. "Oh, gods, Alastor . . . you're right. I didn't realise it . . . but you're right. There's no reason it should bother me that she's a waitress . . . it isn't as if she's got no ambition."
Alastor went to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's all right, love. We all have our prejudices. The important thing is that we recognise them when they start to trip us up."
Minerva put her arms around him, saying, "And just how did you get to be so wise, Alastor Brendan Moody?"
"I've chosen me women well," he said. "It tends to rub off."
"I just hope Malcolm's chosen well," she said with a sigh.
"Ah, don't be so worried, lass. It isn't as if he's marrying the girl." As he said it, Alastor made a mental note to himself to find out if Malcolm knew any contraceptive charms. Although he wouldn't have been surprised if old Dumbledore had had that talk with Malcolm, just as he had with Alastor. Maybe that was one of the "this and that" he'd helped the boy with. The thought gave Alastor a momentary pang of . . . well, jealousy, not to put too fine a point on it. He couldn't help feeling a bit fatherly toward the boy, and the notion of Dumbledore doing a father's duty made Alastor feel like he had a few stones in the pit of his belly.
Maybe he should have married Minerva after all.
As they settled down into bed, he thought, Maybe when I find out what happened to Macnair.
Maybe then, she'd feel free enough to say yes if he proposed.
Maybe then, he'd feel free enough to ask.
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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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