Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter 31 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
15 August 1974
Jaysus, but it was hot.
Alastor thrust two fingers under the collar of his Muggle shirt and tugged it away from the sticky skin of his neck.
Across the room, Robards was looking bored and uncomfortable, and Alastor could see his hand moving nervously from the table to his side, where Alastor knew his wand was hidden under the Muggle jacket. He caught Robards's eye and shook his head imperceptibly.
No cooling charms. He'd been very clear about that. The Muggles would notice, even if they didn't see him cast. These endless surveillance gigs were the bane of every Auror's professional life, and this pub was one of the worst. Smelly, cramped . . . the place didn't even have a decent bitter. Which was just as well, Alastor supposed. He could only nurse his drink along so far before he'd have to order another, and at least the pixie piss they served here wouldn't get him tight.
But it was so fecking hot.
Alastor looked over at his partner again. He looked like he was about to fall asleep. If he did, Alastor would chew him up one side and down the other. This mission might be tedious, but it was important. He'd followed bloody Fletcher's tracks all over the country, and he'd finally gotten a break when one of his contacts heard a rumour that Fletcher was hiding in plain sight, in rooms over a Muggle workman's bar in Bethnal Green.
If Alastor nabbed Otho Fletcher, not only would they put a notorious smuggler of Dark objects in Azkaban, but they might also be able to get something on the Lestrange boys, too. Enough to convince Ackerley to put them under surveillance, anyway.
A drop of sweat rolled into Alastor's good eye. It stung, and he swore, blotting at it with a dirty napkin. He blotted the other eye too, for good measure. Gods, but he hated the non-magical prosthesis! He felt naked without his magical eye, but it would have stood out too much, so it was sitting in a pouch in his pocket, doing no one any good.
Never mind. He was twice the man with a wand, even with half the eyes, compared with any Dark wizard. But Alastor would have liked the three-sixty vision his magical eye gave him. Robards was a decent lad, but very green, and Alastor didn't know if he'd be able to spot Fletcher if the bastard was Glamoured up.
Alastor half expected to see Robards's chin hitting his chest when he took a glance at him, but the young man was still awake, and Alastor saw him rub his eyes roughly to keep himself that way.
Good man. He'd make a passable Auror yet. Better than passable, if Alastor had his way. He'd requested Gawain Robards right out of training; it was one of the perks of being the senior field-Auror that he had his pick of the new recruits.
Alastor seemed to be in perpetual need of a new partner. None of the other senior Aurors wanted to work with him anymore. Too rigid, they complained. Always trying to take control, insisting everything be done exactly by the book when everyone knew that the best Aurors took the rules more as guidelines that could be discarded when the situation called for it. Well, bugger them. Lazy, that's what they were, always wanting to take shortcuts. Alastor would take a new Auror anytime. Gave him a chance to train 'em right, and they needed it, now that Amelia Bones had been bumped upstairs to be Deputy to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Since she'd left the training programme, the quality of recruits had taken a definite nosedive, in Alastor's not-so-humble opinion.
But Robards had something, and Alastor aimed to bring it out and shine it up.
He heard the doors behind him open, and looked over at his young partner, who was now alert. Alastor could see Robards's eyes follow the new arrivals, two men in dungarees and workman's shirts, who walked into Alastor's line of vision and stood at the short bar.
When Robards glanced over at him, Alastor picked up his drink, downed the last of it, got up, and went to the bar.
"Oi, there!" he called to the barman, who had served the two new arrivals and gone back to drying freshly-washed glasses with a rag.
"'Nother Watney's?" the man asked, stepping over to Alastor.
"Yeah, thanks."
Instead of taking his drink immediately back to the table, he took a few sips at the bar, surreptitiously studying the men standing next to him. He concentrated to see if he could sense anything magical about them, but there was nothing.
Satisfied that neither of the two was Fletcher, he took up his beer and went back to his seat near the door, signalling to Robards with a quick shake of his head that their quarry hadn't just walked in.
An hour and two more Watney's later, Alastor was almost ready to pack it in. No one else had come in, and it would start to look suspicious if he and Robards stayed much longer. Besides, Alastor wasn't entirely convinced that Robards could take much more to drink without getting pissed, which would make him a liability if anything were actually to happen. Alastor was about to signal to the young man that it was time to go, when he heard the door open again.
He saw Robards's eyes narrow as he looked at the newcomer, and Alastor's hand tensed but didn't move from the table. The man walked over to the bar, and as he did, Alastor thought he felt the slight thrum of magic as he went past. He caught Robards's eye and winked, which was the signal to stay ready. Robards's hand went to his side, and Alastor swivelled around in his chair. The man was talking quietly to the barkeep, leaning slightly on the bar. He was in a Muggle suit, which pricked up Alastor's suspicions even further. This was a workingman's bar, and in the three days he'd sussed it out, he'd never once seen a toff come in.
Alastor got up and went over to them. Deliberately slurring his words, he put his half-full glass down on the bar and said, "Be a mate an' get me a fresh one. Thissun's gone flat."
The man turned toward him, and the bottom fell out of Alastor's world.
It was Gerald Macnair.
Alastor didn't know how, but it was him, looking almost exactly as he had in those photos that had accompanied the French newspaper stories about his disappearance.
Alastor's hand went swiftly and automatically for his wand, but Macnair must have been anticipating it, because he was drawing too, and suddenly, they were duelling. Macnair managed to deflect Alastor's first Stunner; it rebounded and hit the floor near the bar, scorching the dirty wood. Alastor dodged Macnair's spell and fired again, but Macnair dropped to the floor and rolled under it. The mirror on the wall exploded in a shower of glass, and Alastor was dimly aware of Robards firing his own spells at Macnair, who, surprisingly, deflected those too.
Spells went back and forth, rebounding everywhere. If only he had his magical eye on, he could see exactly what Robards was doing, but as it was, Alastor was a little afraid of being hit by friendly fire, so he shouted at his partner, "I've got this! Cover the Muggles!"
He dodged a green jet of light, and when he heard the explosion hit the wall behind him, he realised that Macnair was duelling to kill. He fired a Stunner back, and it was rebounded, hitting Alastor in the right arm. He'd had his protection ready, so only the arm went numb, and Alastor was able to transfer his wand to his left hand before it even hit the ground.
Which was a damn good thing, because Macnair fired another Avada Kedavra at Alastor, who deflected it, deliberately absorbing some of its energy with his right shoulder, and he couldn't help screaming when the bone shattered.
Through his momentarily blurred vision, he saw Macnair leap agilely onto the bar and drop down behind it.
Excellent. He's hemmed himself in.
It was an amateur's mistake, and Alastor smiled, despite the pain in his arm.
He dropped down and crawled on his knees to the end of the bar. He took a second to glance around the room and saw Robards standing over the three Muggle men, who were huddled in a corner booth, eyes wide and jaws slack. Robards made as if to go to the other end of the bar, but Alastor shook his head. He Disillusioned himself and climbed, quietly but with some difficulty, on top of the bar, gesturing with his good arm at the far corner of the room.
Robards frowned, but fortunately, he caught on quickly and aimed his wand at the place Alastor had indicated. He looked at Alastor, who nodded.
Robards fired, and there was a small explosion when his spell hit the table in the corner.
The diversion almost worked...when Alastor looked over the edge of the bar, Macnair's wand was pointed in the direction of the explosion, but when Alastor edged further out to point his wand at Macnair, a shadow fell across the floor, and Macnair looked up in time to roll out of the way of Alastor's hex.
Alastor dropped down onto the floor next to him, his long experience helping him to ignore the explosion of pain in his broken shoulder, and Macnair kicked at him, missing his face by less than an inch. Before he could get his wand into position, however, Alastor landed his Petrificus Totalus.
Macnair instantly went still, and Alastor scrabbled over to him, his movement hampered by his bad arm and the fact that he still held his wand at the ready in his good hand, in the unlikely-but-possible event that Macnair had some facility with wandless and wordless magic.
But he wasn't moving, except for the rise and fall of his respiration.
Transferring his wand carefully to his right hand, which by now had recovered enough to hold it, Alastor grabbed Macnair's shoulder and pulled him over onto his back. His face was fixed in an expression of fury, and suddenly it was superimposed in Alastor's mind with an image of Macnair sneering at Minerva . . . calling her a whore . . . hitting her . . . telling her she'd not see Malcolm again . . .
"Crucio!"
The spell was vomited forth from Alastor's mouth, and he could feel something like fire moving through his injured arm. Macnair's body jerked, coming off the floor and landing again with a dull thud, and Alastor's heart sang along with the sound.
He cast again, and Macnair's arms and legs jerked violently, despite his Petrification, and the acrid smell of urine filled Alastor's nose.
"Crucio!"
It felt so good...as if he were suddenly taking in lungfulls of air after having been underwater too long.
"Crucio!"
Gods, it was good! The sound of Macnair hitting the floor each time was bliss . . . it was like Honeydukes' best chocolate . . . like strong firewhisky . . . like orgasm . . .
"Moody . . ."
Minerva's drawn face . . .
"Crucio!"
"Moody!"
Minerva's bloodied nose . . .
"Crucio!"
"Moody, stop!"
Minerva's dead body . . .
"Crucio!"
"Shit, Moody, you're going to kill him!"
Pain ripped through Alastor's arm as someone grabbed it, directing it away from the body on the floor.
He howled and struck out at his tormentor, who let go the bad arm and, impossibly, pointed his wand straight at Alastor's face.
"Moody, relax! Don't make me hex you!"
"Wha . . ."
The toxic haze of fury and pain and pleasure began to clear as Alastor looked at the face of the man who'd grabbed him. Slowly, the image of Gerald Macnair's sneer faded from his mind, and Alastor found himself looking into the concerned face of his young partner.
"Robards?"
"Yeah, it's me. Give me your wand."
"Nothing doing, Robards, I..."
"Moody. The bad guy's down. You're injured. You're . . . you're not yourself. Give me your wand."
"The Muggles..."
"They're fine. I've Petrified them, and the clean-up crew will be here in a few minutes to take care of everything else."
I lost control.
Jaysus, did I kill him?
Alastor took a deep, shuddering breath, and Robards put a hand on his good arm to help him stand.
Alastor shook it off, jarring his injured shoulder again. Instead of screaming, he growled, "Get off, Robards, I'm no invalid!"
Robards backed away and busied himself by kneeling down to check on Macnair.
"He's alive," Robards said, after running a basic diagnostic. "But he's going to need Mungo's."
"Filth."
"Who is he?" Robards asked.
"Gerald Macnair."
"He someone MLE wanted?"
"Nah. MLE thought he was dead." To cover the tremor in his voice, Alastor spat, "Bastard."
Alastor knelt down next to Robards, who was tending to Macnair's eyes, spelling them shut so that his corneas wouldn't dry out too much.
When Robards moved out of the way, Alastor forced himself to look into the face that had made guest appearances in his nightmares for the past ten years.
And nearly pissed himself.
He knew that face, but it wasn't Gerald Macnair.
It was his brother, Walden.
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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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