LXIX: None But the Two

LXIX: None But the Two

At ten o'clock the next morning, Minerva walked down to the front gates and Apparated to London. The committee meeting had been unsatisfactory, from her point of view, in that they had come to no decision about Pretnick's job. She had hoped that it wouldn't take long for the committee to come up with a recommendation, but it appeared that this committee was like all other committees she'd had experience with, and there would be a few more meetings before they had a recommendation for the full staff. That meant more waiting for Pretnick, although from what Albus had said, he didn't believe he should come back to the school, and he had a very bleak view of his future.

Minerva was unhappy, too, with what Belby had said about his progress toward creating a potion to treat lycanthropy. The only potion that he had that did not have dangerous, or even potentially deadly, side effects, simply put the werewolf into a deep sleep prior to the transformation; unfortunately, the sleep did not carry through the entire period of transformation. At some point during the night, the werewolf would wake and begin exhibiting behaviour typical of a confined werewolf – running in circles, biting its own limbs and tail, and flinging itself against the walls in an attempt to escape and find human prey. Belby was working on refinements, but none of them were without danger. One interesting side effect to the special sleeping potion was that the werewolf now retained some memory of being a werewolf; normally, the person did not remember the transformation or what he did when under its influence. Belby believed that this showed some change in the werewolf's awareness, and he was focussing on exploiting that aspect of the potion, believing that perhaps consciousness was the key to the treatment, since every attempt he had made to thwart the transformation itself had ended in the death of the werewolf or some other almost equally disastrous result.

Despite her own discouragement with both the committee and the potion, Minerva was determined to remain cheerful – well, as cheerful as was appropriate – during her visit with Pretnick. As she entered the Creature-Induced Injuries ward, she wondered precisely what she could say to someone who had been bitten by a werewolf that wouldn't sound disingenuous. She needn't have worried.

"Good morning, Robert! How are you feeling today?"

"Minerva . . . hullo. I'm as you see me." He gestured at his leg, which was still swathed in bandages. He gave a bitter chuckle. "Of course, come by in a few weeks, and you'll see quite a different me." He bared his teeth mockingly. "Grr."

Minerva wasn't sure how to react to his peculiar joke. "Well, I'm glad to see you today. How's the leg?"

"Healing slowly." He gave another bitter laugh. "Ironically enough, the Healers say that after my first transmogrification, it will heal up completely. Of course, I'll have other injuries that will need healing after that . . . but the leg will be like new."

"I suppose that's a good thing. Does it hurt much?"

"Not anymore. They gave me potions for the pain . . . now it just itches like hell."

Minerva pulled up a chair and sat down. "You know, everyone was most distressed to hear about your injury, and they all admired how well you defended the Higgs family."

"Hmph. That explains why you're my first visitor. They're all so busy 'admiring' my ineptness."

"Professor Dumbledore and Professor Gamp – "

"Had to visit me. It's their job. Don't think I don't know that."

"They wanted to visit you, Robert. And I know they've been back to see you, more than once. If it were only obligation, they would have come that first day, then been done with it."

The Defence teacher didn't respond to that, only looking away.

"What about your family, Robert?"

"They're all Muggles."

"But surely you've told them?"

"No . . . no, they wouldn't understand."

"I think you may be underestimating them, Robert." Minerva hesitated. She knew some Muggle-borns grew away from their Muggle families as their lives became more immersed in the wizarding world. "Unless you don't have any contact with them . . ."

"No, no, I do. And I think my nephew – he's four – he may be a wizard." Pretnick's eyes filled with tears. "I had wanted to help him, make it easier for him than it was for me growing up. At least my sister has some idea what is going on with him, which is better than when I was a boy."

"You can still help him, Robert! You're only a werewolf three days out of the month."

"Yes, and then recovering from it for a week, not to mention a danger to everyone near me during those three days. And ostracised the rest of the month."

"There are advances made in Healing every day; you can't know that there won't be a cure right around the corner."

"After I've infected how many other people? Or even if I don't, I'll be dependent on charity for the rest of my life. No one hires a werewolf."

"We're working on that, Robert."

The wizard snorted. "As if I would trust myself in a school full of children. Werewolves love children, you know. That's why the Higgs were such a tempting target for that werewolf. Who is now out of her misery, at least. I can only hope that someone will do the same for me."

"Robert! Professor Dumbledore said that you tried to spare the werewolf even after she'd bitten you!"

"And that was a mistake. She had no life, particularly as a Muggle. And if I had done the right thing to begin with and just killed her, I wouldn't have been bitten. Stupid human sentimentality."

"It isn't stupid and it isn't sentimental. It is human, though. Human compassion and human reverence for life."

"You see, I'm no longer human. I may still look human to you, Minerva, but I'm not. I'm a werewolf. And I know what that means. I do teach Defence, after all. Or I did. The point is, you can't tell me that everything will be all right because I know it won't be."

"Life won't be the same as it was before, but you can still have a life, Robert. You still live and breathe. You could even work in the Muggle world, which not all wizards could manage."

Robert shook his head. "I can't even drive an automobile, Minerva. I may be able to use a telephone, but you need more skills than that to work in the Muggle world. I've been a wizard since I was eleven. I don't fit in the Muggle world anymore."

"It sounds as though you're close to your family, though."

"Mmm. I suppose. But family life is more-or-less the same whether you're a wizard or a Muggle."

"You really should tell them. Are your parents still alive?"

"My mother is. My father passed away last year. . . . I'm getting tired, Minerva. I think I need to sleep now."

Minerva stood. "I'll come visit again, Robert."

The wizard nodded. "All right. Thank you for coming. I'm sorry I wasn't better company."

"Just get your rest and take care of your leg."

Minerva left St. Mungo's using the street level exit. She thought that as long as she was in London, she would go to Diagon Alley and do some shopping. It had been nice to be in the city the night before; the bustle of the street even on a weekday night had been a nice change from Hogwarts, and she had been surprised to find that she had missed it.

By the time she had finished her shopping, having first visited Gringott's, then gone on to Scribbulus's, Madam Malkin's, and Flourish & Blotts, Minerva realised that she had long since missed lunch. She was just paying for her books and was debating whether to have lunch in Diagon Alley or to return to Hogwarts and have Blampa bring her something, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Ah, and 'tis the fairest witch o' me acquaintance, and 'tis not even condescendin' t' greet me, she is!"

Minerva turned with a grin. "Quin!"

"Minerva." Quin returned her grin and nodded. "You have a few parcels there. Have you been after workin' up a thirst?"

"I don't know about a thirst, but I am hungry. I was just trying to decide whether to eat something now or to wait till I got home."

"I believe I am owin' you a meal or three . . . ma grande dame de la Metamorphosis," Quin said with an impish wink. "Come! Where would you like to eat?"

"The Leaky Cauldron would be fine – I can Floo back from there."

"Your wish is me command!" He bowed with a flourish, waving the door open for her.

As they walked toward the pub, Minerva explained that she'd been visiting a colleague at St. Mungo's and had thought she would do a bit of shopping while she was in town. "I hadn't thought that I would take so long, but I lose track of time when I'm in a bookstore."

"I, too, suffer from that affliction – however, I discovered the cure for that today."

"And what was that?" Minerva asked with an amused smile.

"The distraction of a fair lady!"

Minerva snorted. "I should have known it would be something like that!"

"I cannot guarantee it would work for you – but you could try lookin' in a mirror and see!"

"Oh, hush with your nonsense, Quin!" But Minerva laughed.

They reached the pub and found a table in the corner away from the hubbub of the comings and goings of what seemed half the wizarding population of Britain. Minerva placed her parcels on the seat beside her, and a tall, gangly young wizard came over and took their lunch order.

As they were waiting, Quin leaned forward and asked, "So, how's your wizard? Seen him since you left the Gamps, have you?"

"He's not my wizard, yes, I've seen him, and he is fine."

"More to the point, how are you?" He looked at her face carefully, as if examining it for a clue or a sign. "You still haven't told him, have you, lass?"

Minerva reddened. "I don't think this is an appropriate topic of conversation."

Quin sat back and shrugged, spreading his hands expressively. "Dry weather we've been havin', ain't it? Parched, practically."

"Quin . . ." Minerva sighed.

"What? The weather is off-limits now, too? Well, then . . . what do you think o' the Prides this year? I favour the Kestrels, meself. But I must say, the Wasps ain't doin' too poorly. They just might have a chance this season."

"Quin! I do not want to talk about Quidditch, either."

"Nothin' t' talk about, then? All right. Silence can be congenial."

"You are truly incorrigible."

"So you keep tellin' me. And you're not rid o' me yet."

"How are your children?"

"Left 'em with me mum. Me sister is close by, and her kids come over, or mine go there. They have a grand time. I have business in London still, but I'll be back and spendin' some time with 'em later in the summer."

"You mentioned you have a place there, yourself. Is that where you'll be?"

"It will be. It's a small place now. I signed most o' the land o'er to me brother-in-law, but it's in trust fer me kids, in case they want it when they're grown. And if he dies, it reverts."

"It all sounds complicated to me."

"Borin', not complicated. Just can't stay awake long enough to listen to it t' be understandin' it," Quin said with a smile.

Their lunch arrived, and conversation became less stilted as they relaxed over their food.

Minerva found herself speaking of her dinner at Delancie's the night before and her tipsy visit to the Headmaster's office afterward.

"I can't imagine what he must have thought of me! When I woke up this morning, I felt properly embarrassed. I said the silliest things." Minerva laughed at herself.

"And the great Albus Dumbledore sobered you up with tea and biscuits?"

"No biscuits. I couldn't have eaten another crumb. And I do wish you wouldn't call him that, Quin."

"What? Oh – you mean, 'the great Albus Dumbledore'? I don't mean anythin' disrespectful by it."

"I know you don't, but I'd just rather you didn't. If you knew him better, you wouldn't."

"And you don't think him great?" Quin asked.

"Of course I do, that's not what I meant."

"Mmm." Quin looked at her with a peculiar expression. "I see." Then he added briskly, "Well, you'll just have to invite me to Hogwarts for that tour, and p'raps I can get t' know him better!"

"Yes, I'm sorry . . . it just slipped my mind. I'm afraid I've been rather busy with various things. I hadn't forgotten it altogether," she said hastily. "I even mentioned it to Dumbledore. He thinks there should be no problem with a tour of all the House common rooms, as well. I still haven't asked the Head of Gryffindor, but that should be an easy one," Minerva said, thinking of her last private conversation with Wilhelmina, "Dumbledore asked Slughorn already, though, and he's amenable, and the Head of Ravenclaw has also agreed. I'm still waiting to hear about Hufflepuff, but there's a good chance that'll come through, as well. I'll know in a couple days when I see Poppy."

"Poppy – your friend, the matron, correct?"

"Mmhm." Minerva took a bite of her sandwich.

"And why, if you don't mind me askin', would you be findin' out from her?"

"She's a Hufflepuff. Professor Dustern was her Head of House. She is asking for me."

"I'll never understand how these Houses work, I'm afraid."

"It's just that Professor Dustern will be leaving her post in August. I don't know her very well."

"I see . . . she and your Headmaster aren't gettin' along, and you're none too fond o' her, elseways."

Minerva rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I thought you said you don't know anythin' about Hogwarts and don't understand the Houses." She snorted. "You've been talking to Gertrude."

"I often talk with that lovely witch, Minerva. But if you are implyin' that I spoke with her about this particular topic, that I haven't. I simply know business. And Hogwarts business may be a bit different from me own, but if the Headmaster is askin' the others, but not this one, and this one is leavin', and you're askin' Gryffindor, but not this one, well, there are several plausible explanations, but as a wise man once said, the simplest answer is usually the correct one. Lex parsimoniae, Minerva!"

"Occam's Razor." Minerva quirked a smile at Quin's surprised expression. "You forget who my father is – and that I studied with Dumbledore."

"Hmm. It may be that I have underestimated the Hogwarts education. I did not think they stooped to Muggle philosophy."

"I believe it was also mentioned in passing in my Arithmancy class – with Gertrude. With, of course, many counterexamples from Arithmancy, which were then shown to be incorrect in the end." Minerva shook her head and let out a sigh. "Arithmancy was never my strong suit, I'm afraid, but Albus was right. It was invaluable when studying advance Transfigurations and devising novel spells."

"And yet you won't let me call him 'the great Dumbledore,'" Quin said in mock distress.

Minerva laughed. "I never said he wasn't 'great,' nor that he didn't teach me a lot, just that it annoys me when you repeatedly call him 'the great Albus Dumbledore.' It sounds mocking. I know you don't mean it that way . . . but some would."

"All right, me dear." Quin smiled gently and patted her hand. "Just know I'll always be thinkin' 'great' when I say his name – as do you, I can see that in your eyes. Hmm . . . Occam's Razor?" He asked, looking at Minerva questioningly, and she blushed.

"I don't know what you are on about, Quin, but what do you say to some dessert? Or tea? Or coffee?"

"Coffee, I suppose. But not here. The coffee here tastes like mud. Florean does a nice coffee, and you can have some dessert, if you like." Quin took Minerva's change of topic easily and waved at the waiter to bring him the bill.

Albus had finished his business at the Ministry later that morning than he had hoped. It was well after noon before he made it to Gringotts to see to it that the monthly transfer from his account to the Indigent Scholars' account was increased and to arrange for St. Mungo's to be able to bill his account directly for young Pretnick's care. Albus wanted to insure that Robert received the very best care possible, not just the minimal required. He had instructed St. Mungo's to put any additional charges on his account, and he needed to make certain that Gringotts understood these instructions, as well. On impulse, once he was at the bank, he made an additional donation to the Creature-Induced Injuries ward for the care of any other werewolf patients and instructed the goblins to continue to make a monthly donation to that purpose.

Now Albus was wanting his lunch. The Leaky Cauldron would be the easiest thing, he thought, and so he walked briskly down the street, nodding greetings at those he passed, but not pausing to speak to them. Despite some of the business he'd dealt with at the Ministry, he was in a cheerful mood, and it was all due to Minerva. Inviting her up to his suite for late dessert the other night had been a fine idea. He would have to find other such excuses to spend time with her . . . she had said, after all, that she would welcome similar non-Hogwarts reasons to spend time with him. But he didn't think that he could do exactly the same thing twice in a row. He would need to think of a new excuse. It was rather fun, really, thinking up excuses to spend time with Minerva. And there was no doubt that she genuinely enjoyed herself with him. Otherwise, why would she have arrived, somewhat tipsy, in his office the night before? He was relieved, oddly enough, that she had obviously not considered Flitwick a potential beau, and from the little that Filius had mentioned to him that morning, his thoughts weren't moving in that direction, either. Perhaps he should find some way of subtly encouraging Minerva to see more of Quin. Quin could hardly be insensitive to Minerva's wit and beauty and all of her other positive qualities. He would speak to Gertrude about it, as well. She might have an idea or two.

Albus stepped into the Leaky Cauldron and blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer light of the pub after the bright sunshine in Diagon Alley. He looked around for a free table, not feeling up to perching on a bar stool, and he saw Minerva sitting at a corner table with a wizard whose back was to him. The wizard leaned forward and patted Minerva's hand, then leaned back; Minerva blushed. It was Quin. Well, so Quin could make her blush. . . .

Albus turned and quietly left the Leaky Cauldron. He would lunch elsewhere. He didn't want to interrupt what might very well be a more successful date than the one he had arranged for her with Filius. The smile faded from his face as he stepped back out into Diagon Alley in search of a light lunch. Florean Fortescue did a passable soup. He would just eat there then be back off home to Hogwarts. Albus headed off for the ice cream shop, distracted by the pang in his heart and the sense of loss that was creeping up on him. He scolded himself – after all, he had already decided to encourage Minerva to see Quin. If she had lunch with the young wizard, that was a good thing. His mind may have been convinced by his argument, but his heart was not. And when Florean told him that the soup was sold out, he didn't feel the slightest bit bad for ordering a banana split with three kinds of ice cream, two flavours of sauce, and almost as much whipped cream on top as ice cream below.

"I don't know how I let you talk me into this, Quin. I need to get back to Hogwarts. There's work to be doing."

Albus heard Minerva grumble as the pair approached the ice cream shop. He turned his head to see Quin guiding her through the cluster of umbrella'd tables. His spoon stopped half-way on its course to his mouth, and ice cream began to drip on his robes. There was no escape – and yes, the couple had seen him now. And he could not pretend not to have seen them.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Minerva said, smiling delightedly. "How lovely to run into you here!" Then, in a lower voice, she added, "Do you know you're dripping ice cream, Albus?"

Albus hastily put his spoon back in his bowl and looked down at the ice cream running down his front to puddle in his lap. Before he could do anything about it, it was gone.

"Allow me," Quin said, and with a slight gesture, the mess on his robes was cleaned up. "It is good to see you again, sir." Quin nodded at the older wizard, who was about to stand. "Please, don't get up. We were just comin' for some coffee and dessert."

"It is a very nice day for ice cream,"Albus said politely.

"It may be forward of me, but would you care for company?" Quin asked.

"Yes, may we join you?"

Albus couldn't possibly say "no," and certainly not to Minerva, so he smiled and gestured toward the chairs, which pulled themselves out from the table. "That would be lovely."

"Why don't I go inside, love, and let Florean know we are here – it seems the midday rush is over, and he may not have seen us," Quin said, addressing Minerva.

"Thank you, Quin." When Quin had gone into the shop, Minerva turned to Albus. "It really is nice to run into you! I didn't know you would be in London today, or I would have enjoyed meeting you for lunch!"

"I wouldn't have wanted to interfere with your plans or your . . . date," Albus replied, taking another bite of ice cream, which, as long as it was in its Charmed bowl, didn't melt very quickly, despite the warm sun.

"I didn't have any plans for lunch, and this isn't a date. I just happened to see Quin in Flourish and Blotts at about the time I was thinking of getting something to eat. Pure coincidence."

"I see."

"Am I correct in guessing that that is your lunch, Albus?" Minerva asked, pointing at the bowl of ice cream.

"I took my vitamin potion last night," Albus protested. "And there's fruit here – bananas and cherries, see!" He waved his spoon over the bowl, indicating the bright red cherries.

Minerva laughed. "You are a grown wizard. I suppose if you want an ice cream sundae for lunch, no one will stop you." She looked at him affectionately. "Do take care of yourself, though, Albus. For all of us who care about you, hmm?"

Albus smiled. "Ice cream is very good for the soul, you know. You should have some!"

Quin returned, a tray with three cups of coffee, cream, and sugar, floating in front of him. "He'll be out in a moment to take our dessert orders. He's busy with some delivery person out back at the moment." He settled the tray on the table with nary a ripple in the coffee. "I wasn't sure whether you drank coffee or not, Professor, but I took the liberty o' bringin' you a cup. Don't feel obligated t' drink it."

Albus took a cup, added two teaspoons of sugar and a liberal amount of cream. Minerva added only cream to hers, relying on Quin's assurance that it wasn't "swill." Quin took his black with a half teaspoon of sugar – to "bring out the acid," he said, whatever that was supposed to mean.

"So, Quin, I understand you provided Minerva with company while she was at the Gamps," Albus said conversationally, trying to remember his resolve to see to it that Minerva found a suitable wizard who could make her happy.

"I did try t' be more congenial company than that she could have found with others there." Quin smiled warmly, first at Minerva, then directing his gaze at Albus. "I took care of her and tried t' return her to you whole, happy, and intact, sir." His smile did not fade, and Albus could feel the warmth the young wizard was projecting, intentionally or not, but he was unsure whether the warmth were directed at him or only at Minerva.

"I did not need to be taken care of, Quin!" Minerva protested indignantly.

Quin shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "Let me say, then, that 'twas a convenient thing for us both that we spent time together, given the presence of certain other individuals at the gath'rin' and leave it at that, shall we?"

Albus smiled. "Thank you for taking care of Minerva, Quin. Or not," he added, seeing Minerva's expression.

"And I hope she was returned to you happy and intact?" Quin asked the older wizard.

Ignoring Minerva's scowl, Albus said, "She seemed to have enjoyed herself, didn't you tell me that, my dear?" Albus turned to Minerva, who nodded.

"I do believe she would have enjoyed your company there, sir. You were missed by many. I know that Robert and Gertrude both would have been pleased if you had been able t' come this year. And," Quin added with a barely perceptible glance at Minerva, "you could have taken care o' Minerva yourself."

It was all that Albus could do not to blush at Quin's statement. The boy was a MacAirt; the males weren't as gifted as the witches, but Quin was rather extraordinary, from what Gertrude had said of him. Had he somehow seen into the old wizard's heart and discovered his attachment to his one-time protege? "Well, as Minerva says, she can take care of herself," Albus said.

Just then, Florean appeared to take their order. At the wizards' encouragement, Minerva ordered a small bowl of ice cream. Quin declined, however, saying that he had some business later that afternoon and would need to be leaving soon.

Minerva protested. "You dragged me here, Quin. The least you can do is have some ice cream with us."

"I was sayin' I wanted coffee, love; I said nothin' of ice cream. An' 'tis not abandonin' you, I am! I'm after leavin' you in the company o' Professor Dumbledore, who is even more congenial company than meself, t' be sure!" He grinned at Minerva impishly, who glared at him for a moment, but then, unable to help herself, laughed.

"All right, Quin. I don't want to be keeping you from your work – 'though you were quite happy to keep me from mine!"

"What are we ever t' do with her, Professor?" Quin asked rhetorically, shaking his head melodramatically. "'Tis lovin' her that's the only thing for it – wouldn't you say?" He looked at Albus expectantly.

Albus nodded and wished he could think of something clever and amusing to say in response. But the only response he could think of was clearly inappropriate, so he simply nodded and smiled at Minerva.

"Well, if you two are going to conspire against me, I haven't a chance!" Minerva said in good-natured resignation.

"'Tis for you we are, love," Quin said softly, his demeanor suddenly mild, "An' never against you."

"He's right, Minerva. I heard you when you arrived, saying you had to get back to work. There's nothing at Hogwarts today that can't wait for you to have a bowl of ice cream."

"But I haven't written up your report yet, Professor," Minerva protested.

"There will be time for that later, my dear. I wouldn't have been able to read it yet, anyway." He reached out and patted her arm.

The shopkeeper arrived with Minerva's ice cream and another cup of coffee for Quin, interrupting their conversation. Quin drank off half the coffee, black, then stood.

"I have t' take me leave of ye, desolate though that renders me!"

"But you'll be visiting the castle soon, I understand," Albus said.

"That I will, sir, as soon as your lady sees fit to invite me there. Good day t' ye both," Quin said with a grin.

"'Bye, Quin!" Minerva said. "And I will be inviting you soon, I promise!"

Quin was off with a cheery wave to them both, and when Albus later asked for the bill, they discovered that he had paid for all three of them.

"He's a gentleman," said Albus after Florean had vanished back into his shop.

"Yes, and a rogue, as he would tell you. Though he's not really . . . he's just not . . . typical, I suppose you'd say," Minerva replied thoughtfully.

"No, not typical. Although he does seem to appreciate you, Minerva."

"Yes, well, I suppose so." Minerva hoped he wasn't about to start on about how he'd make a good suitor. "He was under orders from Gertrude, apparently, to keep me company and try to keep me from any unpleasant encounters with some of the more disagreeable guests."

"I am sure he spent time with you out of more than just a sense of duty, though, Minerva."

Minerva shrugged slightly. "We enjoyed each other's company; it's nice to make new friends. Sometimes one does feel that one knows absolutely everyone in the wizarding world and there's no one new to meet . . ."

"And . . . did he succeed?" Albus asked hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"I meant, did he succeed in keeping you from unpleasant encounters?"

"He wasn't glued to my side, Albus. Not everyone at the Gamps was pleasant. They say you can't pick your relatives, but it does seem to me that some of the people to whom Gertrude is related by marriage, well, I wouldn't choose them for relatives."

"So . . . you did encounter some disagreeable people?"

"You know already that Valerianna Yaxley was there. She was superficially charming, as I am sure you know, but she tried to be slyly unpleasant. She didn't succeed. She wasn't in the least bit clever, though she certainly was unpleasant. And then there were all these old witches and wizards – well, not that old, actually. Many were younger than my father. But they were certainly past their prime, unlike my dad – or you. They kept fishing around to find out if I was a half-blood, since they didn't recognise the McGonagall name. I gathered that none of them reads, or they'd at least have noticed Dad's books on display in Flourish and Blotts, if nothing else. Anyway, I finally made my escape by mentioning Grandmother Siofre. They were so busy trying to get over the fact that she's a Tyree, they couldn't keep me pinned there for their examination any longer."

"It does sound as though you can take care of yourself, then," Albus chuckled, wishing, though, that Minerva had elaborated on Valerianna Yaxley's "unpleasantness," despite not really wanting to discuss the witch. He certainly was a mass of contradictions lately!

"Yes . . . well . . ." Minerva hesitated. Albus didn't seem to want to discuss the Yaxley person, but he hadn't flinched or started playing with what remained of his ice cream – it had been too much for even him to finish, he'd stated – perhaps she should say something more. Something that might make Albus feel a little better . . . .

Albus looked slightly alarmed at her hesitation. "Did something happen? Was someone – "

"Well, in a way. I am afraid I was rather rude, myself, Albus. I already confessed to Gertrude . . . I know that one does not attend a social gathering of any type and hex a fellow guest, and certainly not at an engagement party, no matter the provocation . . ."

"You hexed a guest, Minerva?" Albus asked, astonished.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a hex. It was only a little jinx. And as I explained to Gertrude, it was not on a person . . ."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, my dear! What did you do?" Albus couldn't for the life of him imagine sensible Minerva McGonagall, despite her occasional temper, hexing a guest at a party!

"I jinxed Valerianna Yaxley's shoes. With a slow-shrinking jinx." She grinned, failing in her attempt to keep a straight face. "She apparently was quite hobbled by it. Claimed to Madam Gamp that some unknown person had hexed her."

Albus was torn between amusement, shock, and embarrassment that he had ever been associated with that particular witch.

Seeing Albus's expression and unsure how to interpret it, Minerva continued, "Gertrude already knew about the jinx by then, but I don't believe she enlightened anyone about the cause of the witch's difficulties. Besides," Minerva said defensively, "she did bring it on herself for behaving like a cow!"

"She behaved like a cow?" Now Albus was puzzled.

"Not literally, Albus! There are a few other words I could choose, but we are in public. She had the bad taste to insinuate that I was alone for a moment at the party because I was a repressed spinster. She also tried to seduce Quin just after announcing her engagement to Flint. Quin, of course, found it a highly distasteful proposition. She basically behaved very badly the entire time, Albus, and worst of all at the party."

"I see . . ." Albus wondered whether Valerianna had said anything about him, but he couldn't very well ask that. If she had, it had likely been something that had infuriated Minerva, knowing her loyalty to him, and if she hadn't said anything, well, no point in having Minerva wonder what the witch could have said about him. Besides, Minerva clearly didn't hold against him whatever the witch had said.

"Well, Albus, it is getting late. Shall we be getting home? When we get back, I can write up my report on the meeting and give it to you. Unless you have other business here?"

Albus smiled. "No, my dear. No more business today. Although I will be happy to accept your report, of course." He stood and held out his hand, assisting Minerva from her chair. He looked at her, and he was once again struck by her warmth, her beauty, her wit, and her determination. "I am very glad we saw each other today, Minerva. Thank you."

Minerva returned his smile. "I am glad, too, Albus. It was a wonderful chance to have found you here." She took his arm and squeezed it slightly. "Floo or Apparition?"

"Apparition, if that suits you," Albus replied.

Minerva nodded, and they began to walk down the street. "Apparition would be faster."

"May I offer you a Side-Along, my dear?" Albus asked as they reached the small side alley that many used as a Disapparition point.

Minerva flushed slightly, remembering her first Side-Along Apparition with Albus.

"Of course, I know you are quite capable – " he began, thinking perhaps he had insulted her.

"Yes, please, Albus. That would be nice. Although, after the ice cream . . . ." She was shameless, she thought. Utterly shameless.

"Ah, well, we can compensate for that, I am sure." Albus blushed despite himself. "You are a bit taller than you were . . . but come closer, my dear."

Minerva stepped closer and let him put an arm around her. Feeling her blood flow into places where it really had no business pulsing so strongly, Minerva fought to control her breathing.

"Are you nervous, Minerva?" Albus placed his other hand at her waist.

Minerva shook her head, unable to speak. She closed her eyes and laid her head against him. His magic thrummed powerfully, in waves washing over her, gently bringing her magic in tune with itself.

Albus's breath was warm on her forehead. "Ready, my dear?"

"Almost," she whispered, savouring the sensation of his warm embrace, of his strong magic mingling with hers, of his soft breath on her face. She could stay in his arms forever.

Finally, unable to delay any longer, Minerva nodded, and the two Disapparated from the alley with a barely audible pop. Had anyone been watching, they would have believed they had seen two lovers in an embrace, but no one was there . . . none but the two who loved.