LXXXVIII: From Albus, Sincerely

LXXXVIII: From Albus, Sincerely

Albus was sitting at his desk reading through some documents for the Wizengamot session the following afternoon, when a Tawny Owl flew in through the open window. After taking the letter and giving the owl a few of Fawkes's seed-cluster treats, Albus looked at the parchment. A letter from Minerva. He broke the seal and read through the letter quickly, a slight smile on his face. How lovely! She was having Gertrude for tea. That was certainly a positive step. He had been hoping that Minerva would get over whatever reservations she had about the Arithmancy teacher and become more friendly with her. And that was very kind of her to say what she did about his foolishness with the Glamour the other day. But the invitation . . . as much as he would like to see Minerva sooner rather than later . . .

Albus shook his head. He had had some thought to visit Robert Pretnick on Monday and take him to lunch. The former Defence teacher had turned down his offer to use his small cottage, or even to return to Hogwarts, for the rest of the summer. Instead, Pretnick was staying in London at the Leaky Cauldron after his discharge Saturday morning, and would report to St. Mungo's before the next full moon rose, where he would be locked in a small cage for the duration of his transformation. Albus was concerned about the younger wizard's emotional state and hoped that a friendly, encouraging visit would help him.

Beyond those somewhat hazy plans, Albus was disturbed by his own mental state and the behaviour he had been exhibiting lately. It would probably be best to get more distance between them – not as much as he had created during the previous term, of course, but enough so that he would not slide further into his foolish behaviour. No fool like an old fool, they said, and he was certainly living, breathing evidence of that. Best for him to suggest that they have dinner after she returned to Hogwarts. Minerva might be a bit disappointed, but Albus was certain she could find better ways to spend her time than having lunch with him while on holiday. It would only be a few more days . . .

Despite his decision, Albus was reluctant to put quill to parchment and write to Minerva and actually decline the invitation. He may have been more inclined to accept if her parents were going to be there. He liked them both, for one, and for another, their mere presence would keep him from saying or doing anything too inappropriate. But what worried him more than his behaviour, were his feelings. The more time he spent with Minerva, the closer he felt to her, and the harder it was for him to keep his feelings in check, even if he didn't act on them. He thought that he was bound for some pain and loss, but there was no reason for him to cause Minerva any discomfort or embarrassment along the way, as well. He would write her a letter after lunch, later in the afternoon. There were a few more response to the advertisements for the Care of Magical Creatures job, and he could send those along, as well.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Albus"

Minerva's disappointment settled heavily in her stomach. Albus hadn't even mentioned whether he could have come in the evening for supper, as she had suggested as an alternative, although it seemed fairly clear to her that he would be busy all day Monday, and he had apologised, but scarcely seemed to regret he had to decline the invitation. It seemed foolish to invite him for lunch on Tuesday, if he was expecting her back in the castle that day or the next. Minerva sighed. It was a weekday, after all, and Albus was a very busy wizard; it was hardly surprising he was unable to come. Perhaps when she resumed her holiday after the warding, Albus would be able to come for lunch at the house. She might suggest that next time she saw him; he could plan for it, then. Minerva did wish that the letter had been a bit more . . . personal, though. But of course, he was concerned about Hogwarts business, and Pretnick was definitely a priority; she could understand that. And she'd only been gone since the previous morning. It was probably only her imagination that it seemed more distant than his other recent letters had been.

"Bad news, sweetness?" her mother asked from the other corner of the library.

"No, well, yes. Albus can't come for lunch on Monday. He has other plans and business to attend to." Minerva put the letter down and stood. "But I understand. He's a very busy wizard. And I'll be returning early, too. Tuesday evening or Wednesday morning." She shrugged, trying to display a nonchalance she didn't feel. "I'll see him soon enough, after all."

"That is a pity," Egeria said sympathetically. "Well, if he has other plans, you must make some, too. Perhaps with Poppy? And in the evening, go around to Murdoch's for some supper. If Melina's home, you can help her with her wedding plans, and if she's not, you can keep Murdoch some company!"

Minerva nodded. "Yes . . . that would be sensible, I suppose. And if Poppy can't get together with me on Monday, I'm sure I can find something else to do." She grinned. "I could just luxuriate in having the house and the cliffs to myself."

"I'd really rather you didn't climb about the rocks when you're here on your own, sweetness. If you were to fall and hurt yourself, no one would know. Take walks all you like, of course, but . . . just be careful."

Minerva laughed. "I'm hardly likely to take a foolish risk like that, but I will bear it in mind – I promise not to get carried away!"

"Good. Now you write to Poppy this minute; don't wait until Sunday to ask her! Make plans! Have something to look forward to – no moping about in this house," Egeria said with a smile.

"Right! I will do that. Not that I would mope about. I was just slightly disappointed, that's all."

"Of course. You know, if you like, you could come with your father and me to Amsterdam –"

"No, no. That is time for you and Dad. And I think that Poppy and I could find something to entertain us. And if she's not available," Minerva said with a shrug, "I can always Apparate into London myself, stop by the Ministry, see if Claire wants to go to lunch, spur-of-the-moment, perhaps do some shopping – I am sure I won't be at a loss for things to do. Thank you for offering, though. And be sure to say 'hello' to Robert for me, and to Thea, as well, of course."

"All right, sweetness, but if you change your mind, you are welcome. You could keep your father company while I am seeing Thea."

"I will remember that, Mother. But now I'll write my note to Poppy. I am glad she's able to come to tea on Sunday; it looks as though everyone will be coming except Morgan and Fiona, as you and Dad both predicted. Fiona wrote me a nice note, though, and asked me to lunch next weekend. Unfortunately, I had to decline that invitation, since I don't believe I will be back from Hogwarts by then, and although I could go anyway, I don't know what my schedule will be like and I would rather not make any commitments. We have another full staff meeting scheduled, and I want to be sure I am prepared for it" – Minerva smiled nervously – "especially since I will be the new Head of Gryffindor. I want to be completely prepared; I can't let Professor Dumbledore down."

"I am sure you will do very well and he will be proud of you, so don't you worry about that! But it sounds as though there is a lot going on at Hogwarts right now, especially with poor Professor Pretnick afflicted as he is, and I think it is wise that you remain available to the Headmaster while you are at Hogwarts."

Minerva let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Yes, yes there is a lot going on, more than usual for the summer, anyway." She smiled. "And it is good to be able to help Dumbledore, as you say."

"You know, I have to make a call in Ripon tomorrow morning. Would you like to come with me and we can have lunch after? Go Muggle and do some sight-seeing? York is a pretty little city. And there are some wonderful ruins in the area – Muggle and wizarding – and I don't know if you have seen them since you were very small."

"That sounds nice. I can't think of a better way to spend the day, in fact," Minerva said happily. "I'll just go write to Poppy, then we can plan – you don't think Dad will mind us both abandoning him?" Minerva turned and asked before she headed out the door.

Egeria laughed. "Oh, hardly. He'll be happy enough to see us when we return, but I doubt he'll notice he's in an empty house, since he spends most of the day working in his study, anyway, and he's used to having lunch on his own."

"Dear Poppy,

"25 July 1957"

Minerva sealed the letter, then went back downstairs to the library. She would write to Albus in the morning, she decided, after she had finished reading through the applications he had sent her.

"Mother? May I use Hengist to send Poppy's letter?"

"Yes, he returned a few hours ago. I think he's rested up enough," Egeria answered. She smiled. "I told your father we'd both be gone tomorrow, and you don't need to worry about him. He's going to take the opportunity to pop around and see Siofre and Herbert, and he's sent a note with Drest to let them know. They've been wanting to have him come around, anyway – some sort of dull family business, I presume – so this is a good opportunity for him."

"I think that Poppy is still at her grandmother's, and it would be a bit far for Drest to fly, anyway." Minerva started out the door to find Hengist, hoping he was up in the attic.

"Supper in a half hour, if you're hungry, sweetness," Egeria called after her daughter.

Albus began sorting through his Friday morning post when he saw Minerva's familiar handwriting on the outside of one letter. He unsealed it, and noticed she had again used a seal at the top of the letter. He smiled at the whimsical cat. He believed that her mother's seal had had a deer in that position, but it had been several years since he had received a letter from Egeria. Albus was certain, however, that Egeria's seal had a Rod of Aesclepius in the centre of the diamond, and Minerva had substituted a branch with ivy entwined about it. No doubt yew and ivy inspired by their wands. More suited to Minerva, he supposed, than a staff with a snake entwined about it.

"26 July 1957

"Minerva"

Albus sighed as he skimmed Minerva's letter a second time. It seemed that she was genuinely disappointed . . . perhaps it would have been better if he had accepted her invitation, but now it was too late. He had finalised plans with Robert, for one, and for another, it sounded as though Minerva was trying to make other plans of her own. It wouldn't be fair to her to change his mind now. He would make the time to see her on Wednesday, if not for lunch, then for tea, but he would try to make up for having disappointed her. He had promised himself that he would deal with his feelings himself and not burden Minerva with them or have her suffer as a result of them. Apparently, she had been looking forward to having him for lunch . . . but Monday was not the best day, and had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have given a second thought to declining the invitation – nor to accepting it, if he had the time for it. But because it was Minerva . . . Albus sighed again. Perhaps he should have at least expressed greater regret . . . well, he would write her a letter over the weekend and tell her he was looking forward to seeing her on Wednesday. That was certainly the truth. Although the castle was no more deserted than it had been other summers he had spent there, it felt inexplicably emptier now that he was becoming accustomed to Minerva's presence and her company. It was good that he was as busy as he was, Albus thought, and that he didn't have a great deal of time to dwell on her absence. With that thought, he picked up a heavy, rolled parchment bearing the Wizengamot seal, a wide red ribbon encircling it, and began to prepare for his day.

Saturday morning found Minerva quite cheerful as she Apparated to Murdoch's flat above the apothecary. Melina had told her just to Apparate right into the flat, and when she arrived in the sitting room, she could smell eggs frying. Since her brother was likely already in his shop, Melina must be fixing herself breakfast. Minerva hoped she was quick about it; their first appointment was at ten o'clock, and Minerva wasn't sure where they were going or how they were getting there.

Minerva walked into the kitchen to be greeted to the sight of Melina Levitating eggs, fried potatoes, and bacon onto two plates, which then settled on the table, also set for two.

"Good morning, Minerva! Breakfast? I hope so. I cooked enough for a Quidditch team here!" Melina said brightly.

"I already ate, but," she added, seeing Melina's face fall, "that was almost two hours ago, and I can always eat a bit more breakfast."

Looking at her plate, Minerva didn't think she'd be able to eat even half of it, and she wasn't fond of fatty bacon, and this was what might generously be termed "well-marbled," but she picked up her fork and tried some of the egg.

"So, I've arranged things so that the first place we see is the one with the Squib landlord, then we'll move on and see the two that Mr MacAirt is showing us. Mr Shycross is meeting us at five before ten. He mentioned that there was one other flat he could show us if we wanted, but I told him to hold off on it till next week. I'm going to help out in Brennan's shop this afternoon until he closes at two, and then I'll have lunch with him and we'll talk about the flats I've seen today."

"That sounds fine," Minerva said. "How are we getting wherever it is we're meeting Mr Shycross?"

"Apparition. Do you know the Five Disenchanted Ducks? No? Then I guess I'll Side-Along you."

Minerva put down her fork. No more eggs if she was going to Side-Along with Melina. She took a sip of tea. "What are you looking for, other than a place that can entertain either wizards or Muggles?"

"We would like two bedrooms, just in case, you know," Melina giggled. "And if there were a room we could turn into a separate library for me, that would be very good, since I can't very well leave my books lying about the house when our friends come over. Not that they'd recognise them for what they were, most likely, but some of Brennan's friends are more observant than others, and best not to take a chance with it. Other than that," Melina said with a shrug, "I think we'll know it when we see it. Of course, it has to be affordable, and we'd prefer to pay in pounds than in Galleons."

"Actually, wouldn't it be more cost-effective to pay in Galleons? For you to exchange Galleons for pounds is quite a bit more expensive than the reverse. In fact, given the premium that Gringotts offers on Muggle money, you're likely to be better off exchanging Brennan's pounds for Galleons."

"I know, and it does seem to make sense, but if anything were to happen to me, Brennan might have difficulties."

"Well, I doubt very much that anything is going to happen to you, Melina, but if it does, Brennan is family now. I can promise you that I would make sure that he didn't have any problems in that regard, and I am sure that Murdoch, and Mother and Dad, feel the same. I don't think that should be a consideration. It would, of course, be nice to have the option to pay in either pounds or Galleons. You could inquire about it, though, if there's a place you are interested in. Now, do you have a solicitor if it's a Muggle lease? I imagine Mr Shycross is in the employ of the landlords, particularly since there is no fee unless you apply for a flat."

"Dad gave us the name of one who is used to dealing with wizards and Muggles. I hope we just have a wizarding contract, though. Grandpa could look that over for me; he knows all the usual contract terms and spells."

"Did you ask Shycross about that? As a Squib –"

"Yes, I did, and they have a wizard on retainer who handles any wizarding leases. I did get the impression he would prefer to go the full Muggle route, though."

"Easier for him, and doesn't cost the firm anything extra. Although they may charge an extra fee if you do a wizarding lease or put a magical clause in a Muggle document. Another thing to inquire about when we see Shycross."

Melina waved her wand and cleared the table. "I'll take care of the washing up later, or Quimpy can do it, if Dad doesn't need him in the shop this morning. Let's go find me my first grown-up flat, Auntie Min!"

"All right, but please don't call me that when we're in public – especially not around Quin. I don't want him to begin thinking he can call me 'Min.' I don't even like it when Poppy does it."

Melina laughed. "I'll try! Really! Now come on," she said, reaching out a hand to her aunt, "we don't want to be late meeting Mr Shycross!"

Minerva looked out the dirt-streaked front window of the empty parlour. Melina was with Shycross, a round little man, in the back bedroom. After seeing the kitchen, Minerva had already made up her mind about the flat. Of course, the fact that the landlords lived downstairs was also a negative point, in her view.

Edinburgh certainly looked grey and grimy to her that day, soot covering just about every surface. A good rain would wash a lot of it away . . . but Minerva's mood had shifted to match her current view on Edinburgh, and she sighed deeply and waited for Melina to finish looking at the flat.

Apparating with Melina was never a comfortable experience for her, and that morning was no exception. When they popped into the side alley, Melina let go and began to walk toward the street, but Minerva, dizzy, reached out and clung to the wall next to her. She had felt sick when they arrived, but as she took her first deep breath, trying to dispel the vertigo, the nauseating odour of rotting vegetables filled her nose, and her stomach rebelled. Minerva stumbled toward the street, trying to get away from the stench, and Melina came back over and supported her, gently rubbing her back.

"I'm sorry, Minerva! I forgot you don't Side-Along very well. I should have brought along a potion for your stomach. A little fresh air, and you should be fine."

"Mmm," was the only reply that Minerva could manage. She swallowed several times, overcoming the urge to vomit, and remembered how easy it was to Apparate with Albus. She loved to have Albus give her a Side-Along, if he held her and brought his magic in tune with hers before Apparating, and this experience suddenly made her miss Albus all the more. Embarrassingly, tears rose in her eyes as she thought of Albus, and she wasn't able to blink them away before her niece saw them.

"Oh, Minerva, I should have remembered . . . we could have left a little earlier and Flooed to the Fireball's Flagon, then just walked a ways. Are you feeling very ill? Would you like to go somewhere and sit down for a while? Perhaps a cup of tea?"

"No, no, I'll be fine. Let's just walk for a bit," Minerva answered, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Foolishness! She had been perfectly cheerful when she arrived at Melina's. She and her mother had had a lovely time the day before, and she was looking forward to tea the next day, and Poppy had invited her for lunch at her grandmother's on Monday, after which they were going to go shopping. Still, she wished that she had heard something from Albus. She had been gone three days, and the only letter she had received from him had been the rather formal one he had written to decline her invitation to lunch and to ask her to return by next Wednesday. He had written her several letters while she was in Cornwall, sweet letters . . . but he was busy, she reminded herself. Very busy. And he had the Wizengamot every Friday. Perhaps he would owl her over the weekend.

"You look positively white, Auntie Min. We have a few minutes before Mr Shycross will arrive. Why don't we go into the Five Disenchanted Ducks and have some tea? We can sit by the window and keep an eye out for him."

They had just turned the corner, and Minerva saw a sign showing five ducks in different stages of becoming disenchanted back to their usual wizarding selves.

"All right. Just a cup of tea. And if we can't get a table by the window –"

"If we can't get a table by the window, I will wait outside for him and fetch you when he arrives."

When the little round man showed up fifteen minutes later, he had spied them through the window and come in. He expressed sympathy for Minerva; having only ever Side-Alonged, he was well-acquainted with the nausea that could accompany it. Shycross insisted on waiting for Minerva to finish her tea before they left to view the flat.

And so now Minerva was standing in front of the window in an empty flat, looking out at what seemed to her a dismal and grey day, despite the sunlight streaming in past the grime. She wondered whether she would find any of the flats acceptable, given her current mood. She was half-tempted to Apparate back to Hogwarts that afternoon under the pretense of having forgotten something, but Albus might not even be there, and if he were, having forgotten something in her quarters or her office would not be sufficient excuse to stop by and see him. Of course, if she timed it for the dinner hour . . . but her parents were expecting her back, and she still had some things she wanted to talk to her mother and Fwisky about for Sunday. She could certainly go one week without seeing Albus! And she would.

Melina's voice came closer, and it didn't sound as though she was any happier with the flat than Minerva was. Just as Minerva turned to go meet her niece, there was a clattering at the window, and Minerva looked over to see a large Snowy Owl perched on the ledge outside the window, rapping at the glass with its beak. Minerva pulled her wand out and opened the window. It was so stuck, it took her two tries to open it wide enough for the owl to hop through. She was only slightly surprised when it held out its leg to her, offering her a letter.

"I'm sorry I haven't any treats for you," Minerva said to the bird. "I wasn't expecting you, you see."

The owl gave a soft, low hoot, and glided away out the window, unperturbed by the lack of reward. Minerva looked at the letter. From Hogwarts, and the writing was Albus's. Just then, Melina and Mr Shycross entered the room, and Minerva felt a wave of annoyance. She would have to wait to read her letter. She put it in her pocket.

"Well, Min-erva, we can go on to meet Mr MacAirt now. We can each Apparate directly from here individually, since we are meeting him inside Aphrodite's Apple," Melina said, naming the tearoom that provided an entrance between McTavish Street and Muggle Edinburgh. Although there were a few wizarding establishments scattered about Edinburgh, such as the Five Disenchanted Ducks and the Fireball's Flagon, most of them were on wizarding McTavish Street, just as Diagon Alley was home to most of them in London. "We'll have some time, though, since he's not arriving until quarter to twelve, and it's only gone eleven, now."

Minerva perked up at that thought; she would have time to read her letter from Albus before Quin arrived, then! She was sure that Melina wouldn't mind; the letter was from her boss, after all.

Shycross explained that he wasn't accompanying them, since Mr MacAirt had assured him that he could show the flats on his own, and he had to be getting back to his office, so Minerva and Melina Apparated directly from the sitting room as soon as Shycross had left. It always seemed slightly insensitive to Minerva to Apparate in front of a Squib, although perhaps she was making ill-founded assumptions. But if she were unable to Apparate, she didn't think she would want to see other people doing it right in front of her, flaunting it. She thought it must be much more difficult to be a Squib, knowing about magic and living on the edge of the wizarding world, than to be a Muggle, even one who was marrying into a wizarding family, as Brennan was. They must feel cheated, somehow, never completely Muggle, but not able to function in the wizarding world, either.

Melina and Minerva Apparated to within a few feet of one another not far from Aphrodite's Apple.

"You look much better, Auntie Min. I was rather worried about you after that Side-Along. I will remember to bring a tummy potion for you if we ever have to do that again," Melina said, taking her aunt's arm.

"'Tummy potion'?" Minerva asked. "Is that a new Healing term I haven't heard before?"

Melina laughed. "It will always be 'tummy potion' to me, Min-erva! You were right about that flat, though. Even Mr Shycross didn't argue when I raised the question of living above one's landlord. The kitchen was rather horrid, too, and the bedrooms were positively tiny."

The two witches entered the tearoom and a pleasant wait-witch wearing a crisp white pinny led them to a small table near some hanging plants and the entrance door to Muggle Edinburgh. The tearoom smelled of apples and cinnamon, and it alway reminded Minerva of autumn and fallen leaves, even in the middle of the summer. Although they did serve other foods, the tearoom specialised in apple dishes. Apple kuchen, apple fritters, apple and onion bread, pork and apple sandwiches, duck with apple and chestnut dressing, apple dumplings, American apple pie á la mode – if it could have apples in it, Aphrodite's Apple served it, it seemed.

Melina ordered American apple pie á la mode and Earl Grey tea, and Minerva ordered apple dumplings and rosehip tea.

"Do you mind if I read my letter?" Minerva asked, pulling it from her pocket.

"Ah, so there was an owl – I thought I heard one, but I wasn't sure. Go ahead, I don't mind."

"It's from Dumbledore, you see. It may be business," Minerva explained.

"That's fine – I wouldn't mind, in any case. And I can make a few notes about the last place I saw. I told Brennan I would tell him all about it, and I didn't feel comfortable writing, 'dingy little rooms' while Mr Shycross was standing next to me."

Minerva just nodded and unsealed the letter. It was on lovely heavy, cream-coloured parchment, and he had used purple ink – perhaps the ink that she had bought him. She envisioned him sitting at his desk, using his plumy purple quill as he composed the letter to her that morning, perhaps a cup of tea steaming beside him, and she smiled.

"27 July 1957

"Albus"

Minerva sighed and smiled as she read the letter for a second time, taking a distracted sip of her tart rosehip tea. He did miss her. He had just been very busy, just as he had said. And he wanted to have lunch on Wednesday.

"Nice letter?"

"Hmm?" Minerva asked, looking up at Melina.

"I asked, was it a nice letter, then? You looked almost like it was a letter from a lover, not from your boss, the expression on your face –"

"Melina McGonagall! What a thing to say!" Minerva could feel her face flushing.

"Well, I just meant that you looked quite pleased, that's all," Melina said, blushing at her faux pas. "I'm sorry . . . of course, it was from Professor Dumbledore. Um, that was an inappropriate remark. But it was a good letter?"

"Yes," Minerva said briskly, folding the parchment and replacing it in her pocket. "We are having lunch on Wednesday to discuss the Head of Gryffindor position, and he also told me that I was doing well in the assistance I am giving in the search for a new Care of Magical Creatures instructor. He is an extremely busy wizard, Melina, and he values my assistance."

"Of course he does. And that is so exciting about the Head of House job! Brennan said to congratulate you. He was as pleased as I was, I think."

"That's very nice of him. Thank him for me."

"I will – this pie is very good. You haven't touched your dumplings," Melina said, gesturing with her fork.

"Oh, yes. They look nice." Minerva added a dribble of honey to her tea, poured a little cream over the dumplings, then picked up her fork and tried one. "Yes, very good." She nodded. "Very good, indeed. Try one?"

Melina and Minerva swapped bites of their desserts; both agreed that they were very tasty, and that each was quite distinctive. They were just finishing up when Minerva heard, or felt, someone swishing in through the door behind her, and she knew that it was Quin, or someone of equal energy and panache, anyway. Sure enough, a moment later, his mellifluous Irish tones met her ear.

"Professor McGonagall! And her fair niece, I presume!" Minerva looked up to see Quin's smiling face. "Please, stay seated, Miss McGonagall, finish your pie – you had it with ice cream, I see! Very good choice. I'll just have a quick cuppa, meself, if you don't mind." He shook Melina's offered hand, leaned over and pecked Minerva fondly on the head, and pulled out a chair for himself. Quin had, indeed, arrived.