Chapter 9

Chapter 9

But that was, in fact, what had happened: that evening, after Professors Flitwick and Sprout had got their memories out of the pensieve, Madam Pomfrey explained that their most recent experiments had seemed to succeed and that they should try the resulting potion-and-charm combination on Professor McGonagall as soon as they could.

"I'll go now," she said. "If it works, the results should be almost immediate. We could have Minerva back with us for breakfast. If she feels up to it."

"Oh, I think she'll be fine; she'll want to check on her students as soon as she can," said Professor Sprout. "And Neville has been taking such good care of her." She beamed at him, and Neville hoped he didn't blush too badly.

"But how will she ever explain things to the headmaster?" Professor Sprout went on.

"I have a few thoughts along those lines," said Professor Flitwick. "I'll go with you now, Poppy; Minerva and I will cook up something."

"Neville, you'd better go back to your common room," Madam Pomfrey told him. "Be conspicuous in your presence. Just in case you need an alibi. You, too, Pomona. Snape should find as many people accounted for as possible."

Neville wandered back to the common room slowly, wishing he'd had a chance to tell Minerva goodbye before she took the cure.

Of course, maybe it wouldn't work.

* * *

But it did. To the buzzing amazement of the entire school, Professor McGonagall was in her accustomed place at breakfast. Neville professed to be as astounded as anyone else and told Ginny that his lack of appetite was the result of his being so excited that the professor was back.

She was in her usual teaching robes, complete with high hat and spectacles. Her hair was in the tightest of buns, and she never looked Neville's way.

At the conclusion of the meal, Headmaster Snape stood up to address them, and the room immediately fell silent.

"As you can see," Snape said. "Professor McGonagall has returned, safe and" ― here he glanced at her sharply ― "as sound as she ever is. She has told me the story of where she has been, and I have found it satisfactory. There is nothing further you need to know. As of this morning, she will be resuming her teaching duties as normal." He glared at them all. "And if I hear any gossip or rumour-mongering, the transgressors will be dealt with severely. That is all."

The students all filed silently out of the Great Hall. Neville knew that the curious talk would start as soon as they were out of Snape's and the Carrows' earshot, but for now, he was glad of the quiet.

He spent the day in a kind of haze of jumbled feelings, and was both relieved and a little anxious when a house-elf came to the common room in the evening, saying that Professor McGonagall had asked to see him in her office.

* * *

She was behind her desk when he came in, but she offered him tea and ginger newts, something she'd never done before.

"Mr Longbottom," she said, "Madam Pomfrey tells me that you have been very kind in looking after me during my recent difficulties, and I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate it."

"Oh, that's all right, Professor," Neville said. Her title slipped out without thought; he would never dream of calling her "Minerva" now.

"I know things haven't been easy this year, and it was good of you to add so much more responsibility to all the other claims on your time. It couldn't have been much fun for you, babysitting me."

"Oh, it was nothing like that," Neville said, hiding a smile. "I was glad to do it. Really glad." He watched her fingers curl around her teacup and tried not to think about the last thing he'd seen them curled around. She had been a different person then.

"Do you, ah, remember anything about your time in the Room of Requirement?" he asked.

She shook her head, and he caught the scent of her achingly-familiar perfume. "No, and Madam Pomfrey says I am not likely to. It's disconcerting to have lost a month of my life, but I expect I'll adjust. And at least no permanent harm seems to have been done."

"No," Neville agreed, his voice as neutral as he could make it. "Nothing permanent."

It was for the best, he thought, firmly tamping down his sense of loss. She ― Minerva ― had been right. How could they have faced their real lives with the knowledge of their affair lying between both of them? He realised with certainty now that she never would forgive herself if she knew.

"Would you prefer to have your memories of this business removed, Mr Longbottom?" the professor asked. "It's irregular, to say the least, but Professor Flitwick can Obliviate you without leaving scars. You might be safer."

"No, that's okay," Neville hastened to say. "I'll be fine. No one suspects me or anything."

He'd face a platoon of Snapes and Carrows before he'd give up a single second of those memories. He wanted to remember every moment of his time with her, when they had been just "Neville" and "Minerva" and nothing else.

"All right, then. If you're sure. But if the headmaster or anyone begins to hound you, I want to hear about it. They'll have to answer to me, Death Eaters or no Death Eaters. Do you understand?" She fixed him with her trademark glare, and Neville almost smiled. McGonagall the Fierce was back.

"I understand." He finished his tea and stood, setting his cup on the desk. "Well, I should get going. Thank you, Professor."

To his surprise, she got up, too, and came around the desk to put her hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Neville."

Before he could talk himself out of it, he leant over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"You're welcome," he said.

--End

A/N ― Thank you for reading! I know the ending is inconclusive and swift, but I hope it doesn't disappoint you too much. The tale could go on, of course: to future psychological effects, to possible future events, to a look at Minerva's pov, but this felt like a natural stopping-point for Neville's story.