CVIII: In Memoriam

CVIII: In Memoriam

Minerva woke with her Tempus alarm and was pleased when a few minutes later, Blampa arrived bearing a cup of tea. Encouraged by this to force herself out of bed, Minerva saw the letter lying on her dressing table. Her sleepy brain hadn't immediately recalled that she needed to contact Albus. She called for Blampa, who popped in looking far more cheerful than Minerva felt.

"Blampa, can you fetch Wilspy for me, or give her a message for the Headmaster?"

"I, Blampa can fetch Wilspy and give her a message, yes!" Blampa said, bouncing on her tip-toes.

"Only one or the other. Please have Wilspy let the Headmaster know that I will meet him for breakfast in his suite at seven. Please return to me here afterwards."

The house-elf Disapparated, and Minerva selected her navy blue Muggle suit and cream silk blouse. She had acquired it when she lived in London and occasionally had the need for such a thing. It wasn't particularly comfortable, to her way of thinking, the skirt seemed too narrow to walk in comfortably, but it was stylish when she bought it a several years ago, and she thought it was still sufficiently fashionable that she wouldn't look entirely out of place. Black slip-on court shoes, taupe stockings, chemise – she couldn't bring herself to wear a bra. Uncomfortable things. She had tried one once, thinking to have one to go with her few Muggle outfits, but decided that she was hardly likely to undress for a Muggle who would notice her chemise and its Support Charm. And suspenders were likewise out of the question; her Charmed stockings would have to do. They required no garter belt. She couldn't imagine having to dress completely as a Muggle everyday. She had a little blue hat with a small black feather that went with the suit, and she found that. Minerva thought she would look quite presentable.

There was a sharp snick, and Minerva turned around.

"I, Blampa, gives Wilspy Professor Minerva's message for the Headmaster," Blampa said proudly.

"Very good, Blampa. Did Wilspy say anything?"

"No, Wilspy goes to her Professor."

"Thank you, Blampa. That will be all."

Minerva showered quickly and dressed, putting her hair into a French twist. It would look well with her little hat, she thought. For jewelry, since all of her earrings were Charmed and would not bear close inspection by a Muggle, she decided to wear only a small gold and cloisonne brooch on her suit jacket. Slightly old-fashioned, but it picked up the colour of her suit nicely. The last thing she did before leaving her room was to find a pair of gloves and her small black handbag. It was just large enough to put her wand in diagonally. She kept some Muggle money in it, and she added a fresh handkerchief. If she were truly Muggle, she would have a lipstick and compact, but Muggle make-up always felt so peculiar, particularly the heavy, waxy-seeming lipstick. She could purchase some Charmed make-up, she supposed, but she never really used it, being perfectly adept at the few make-up charms she used regularly.

Minerva Flooed to her office then hurried up to the second floor. She was very nearly late, and would have been if she had had to walk the entire way. She could have simply Flooed to the office, but she understood that that was to be reserved for emergency use only. And she couldn't blame Albus – you couldn't have people popping in unannounced all of the time, after all, even if the only people who could do that were the Heads of House and the school matron. And the Deputy, of course, but she knew that Gertrude didn't make a habit of using the Floo. Even though he was expecting her this morning, Minerva thought it polite to give him some warning that she was coming up by using the gargoyle entrance. It seemed to provide an admirable doorbell for him, if he weren't too deeply asleep.

As she rode the stairs up to the office, Minerva was slightly nervous. In so many ways, she felt closer to Albus than she did any other human being, and there were times when she had the sense that he felt close to her, too. Perhaps not in the same way, but that he trusted her and loved her. She had certainly felt that way the other night when he had told her so much of his past, all of those things he had seemed to fear would disappoint or disillusion her. But then at other times, she could feel him withdrawing, or he would behave in a way that puzzled and confused her. They would have such a lovely time together, she would feel closer to him than ever, and then – he would do or say something that left her wondering whether he truly enjoyed their time together anywhere nearly as much as she did. Part of it might be that she tended to be oversensitive to his every word and gesture, positive or otherwise, because she placed such a great weight on their relationship and her own feelings for him were so very intense. Minerva worried now that even if Albus were his normal, kind, genial self, that she would find him wanting and say or do something that was unwarranted, hurting his feelings. Worse, though, Minerva feared saying or doing something that would reveal the true nature of her love for him. She had given Albus opportunities to explore how she felt about him if he did, indeed, feel something more for her, as Quin had suggested, but he had not responded at all. She was once more becoming resigned to the fact that his love for her was that of a mentor or older relative and likely to remain that way. And it could be that he was past wanting any kind of romantic relationship with anyone at all, and it wouldn't matter if she were older, or if she hadn't been his student. But that was of no consequence. Albus felt as he did, and her explorations had only made her sadder.

Last night . . . at least he hadn't stiffened and patted her back, telling her he was "fond" of her, too. But he had not seemed to respond at all when she said that she loved him. Minerva didn't know which was worse. But at least he seemed to accept her words. She would just have to be very careful not to repeat it too frequently or to say it in a way where he could hear precisely how much she loved him. That thought brought tears to her eyes, and she wiped them away before opening the door at the top of the stairs.

Minerva began to cross the office to the brass staircase that led to Albus's suite when Dilys's cheerful voice greeted her.

"Good morning, dear! Come to see the Headmaster? Very good . . . he was saying just yesterday what a treasure you are . . . and how he values you and your concern. I am sure he will be very pleased to see you. He was quite sad when you had to leave yesterday."

Minerva never felt particularly comfortable speaking with these portraits, though she supposed she would become more used to it. Certainly the portraits at Hogwarts, particularly those of the former headmasters and headmistresses, were more lively and seemed more real than most portraits she was acquainted with, with the exception of a few at the Ministry, but she had rarely been in their company.

"Good morning, headmistress," Minerva said, unsure what else to say in response to the information that Dilys had just imparted.

"Dilys, please, dear. Well, you go on up. I am sure you are anxious to see him."

Minerva went up the stairs, remembering how the first time she had attempted it, she had landed at the bottom and Albus had stood at the top, quite amused. She still didn't find it amusing. But he had been sorry, and as far as Minerva could tell, she was one of very few people who did not require an invitation to mount the stairs. Gertrude was correct in one thing: he should change his system. Simply requiring a second password would be sufficient security, she would think. It was nice, though, that he had charmed them to recognise her. Dilys was right, too. Albus did value her. And it was unsurprising that he had been sad when she had left, but so had she. She would have to work on avoiding creating circumstances that would lead to such strained expectations on her part. She should just be patient with Albus. Give him his own time. And perhaps if she did that, he might eventually come to love her as she did him, which was hardly likely to happen if he felt that he was always wanting in her eyes, or was not who she wished him to be, which sounded even worse. She would not want Albus to be anyone else; Minerva only wanted him to feel something for her which he clearly didn't and which could not be forced.

As she reached the top of the stairs, the door to the sitting room opened, and Albus was standing there, dressed in a grey flannel three-piece suit with a neat pocket square, a gold fob hanging from his watch-chain, and matching gold cufflinks, his black shoes shined to a high polish. He hadn't applied a Glamour; however, Minerva thought she spied a black bow-tie obscured by his beard. She thought he looked very nice, and very authentically Muggle, despite the long hair and beard, and she hoped that he didn't use a Glamour that day.

She smiled. "Good morning, Albus!"

"Good morning, my dear. I was pleased to receive your invitation to breakfast last night, and equally pleased to receive your message this morning saying that you would be arriving at seven. You look very nice, quite smart," he added as he admitted her to his sitting room.

"Thank you, you do, too. Very appropriate," Minerva said, admiring how nicely the suit accentuated his long legs and broad shoulders. Sometimes in his robes, you could scarcely tell where his waist began, let alone how fit he was.

"Yes, well, I didn't think that a more colourful choice would be suitable for this occasion. I am glad you find it appropriate." He pulled out a chair for her.

Albus thought Minerva looked lovely, just as lovely in a Muggle suit as in her prettiest robes, but her legs were really quite distracting. He was very glad that shorter robes had never become fashionable among adult witches. Minerva had lovely ankles, and the curve of her calf was enough to make him want to caress her leg from her calf to her sweet foot. It was very good he couldn't see her knees, Albus thought, and a vision flashed through his mind of himself kneeling behind her and kissing the backs of her knees while gently caressing her legs from her ankles to her thighs, reaching up under her skirt – he pushed slightly on the back of Minerva's chair as she sat, and made an effort to redirect his thoughts. Breakfast, breakfast . . . he cleared his throat.

"I wasn't entirely certain what you would like for breakfast, my dear," Albus said, still standing behind Minerva, regaining control of himself, "so I simply asked for tea. We can call Wilspy for whatever you would like."

"I'm actually ravenous this morning. I didn't feel hungry at all yesterday evening and didn't have any supper, so I haven't had anything but tea since about three o'clock yesterday, when I had sandwiches with Gertrude, and I didn't eat much then, since it was so early," Minerva answered as he came around the table and took his seat.

"Well, we'll ask Wilspy for a full breakfast, then!"

"Haggis, too, please, Albus." She was one of the few people she knew who liked haggis for breakfast, but she liked it better than regular breakfast sausage. She might not be fond of meat in general, but she did like fish and all kinds of cured meat and sausages.

While they waited for Wilspy to return with their breakfast, Minerva asked, "Where does Professor Pretnick's family live?"

"Just outside of London," Albus answered as he poured their tea.

Minerva hesitated. "How are we getting there? Portkey or Apparition? I'm just thinking about my planned breakfast, and I assume they are not on the Floo-Network."

"I thought we would Apparate – I'll make it an easy Apparition for you, Minerva. You can eat all you like and not worry," he said with a smile that belied his nervousness at the thought of holding Minerva in his arms, bringing his magic in perfect tune with hers, and Apparating her to the Muggle neighbourhood.

Minerva nodded. "All right . . . your Side-Alongs are usually perfectly comfortable. Better than using a Portkey, in fact." Her heart beat faster at the thought of being so close to Albus, feeling his arms and his magic enfolding her. She would have to be careful, but there was no reason why she shouldn't enjoy it, just a little.

Albus spoke briefly of his visit to Robert's sister, Anne Carter, the previous afternoon, and Robert's mother, Sharon Pretnick, who lived with her daughter's family.

"I believe that Robert was right. His nephew is certainly a wizard. I haven't checked the Hogwarts book yet, to confirm it, but I have no doubt that Matthew Carter's name is in it."

"He spoke of his nephew to me when I visited him. He had wanted to help him make the transition from the Muggle world to the wizarding one," Minerva said.

"I know . . . that was one of the things I told him the last time I saw him. That he should be there for his nephew, that he needed to be in his life. But . . . that obviously did not outweigh all of the other factors."

Breakfast arrived, eggs, bacon, haggis, fried bread, toast, grilled tomatoes, and a large bowl of mixed berries and cream.

Minerva ate with a good appetite, having some of everything but the fried bread. Albus had eggs, bacon, and fried bread.

"You should have some of the tomato or fruit, too, Albus – and that's the last word from 'Mother McGonagall' for the morning," she said, holding up a hand. "Promise!"

He chuckled and helped himself to some fruit. "I think I would worry if you stopped being Mother McGonagall entirely, my dear. I would think I had fallen out of favour and lost your affection." Hearing his own words, Albus fought a blush.

"Never, Albus." Minerva reached across the table and took his hand. "You will never lose that. It is impossible." She looked at him, trying to discern his mood. "I am sorry about the way I left last night. It was probably wise to retire, since we were both tired and it had been a long day, but I should never have left you as I did, feeling as though you were wanting in some way. You are not. And I don't want you to change, not at all." She wanted to tell him that he had her heart just as he was, but she could not. Instead, she added, releasing his hand, "I have become very attached to the wizard you are."

"Well, thank you, my dear – and a very good thing, too, since the one change I tried recently was not a particular success." Seeing her puzzled expression, he smiled and waved his wand twice rapidly, applying a quick Glamour that removed his beard and shortened his hair.

"As I said before, you are quite handsome with or without the Glamour, but I do prefer your usual look. If you are going to go out like that today, though, you'll need to fix it – it's wavering a bit," she said.

"No, no, I thought I would go as myself. This was just a quick reminder of my recent folly." He waved his wand once, completely removing the temporary Glamour, and hoping that his expression didn't show how pleased he was by her words. It was silly, after all. She was just being kind and polite . . . a bit of social courtesy.

Minerva laughed slightly. "Oh, I wouldn't call it a folly. After so many years with the beard and such, I certainly understand that you must have been curious to know what it would be like without it. It's fortunate you are adept with Glamours and you were able to make the change so thorough but temporary. There's a fellow in Portree, in the little bookshop there, he has green hair. I have never been able to decide whether it was intentional or not, and whether it is the result of a Glamour, a colour charm, or a potion. Whatever it is, it's been that way for years. Morgan says his hair used to be brown, going grey."

"Well, I am fortunate there, then . . . although green hair could be quite fun," he said with a chuckle.

"Not if we are going out among Muggles, though, Albus. You would be sure to attract far more attention than you even would in your robes!" Minerva said with a laugh.

"Speaking of Muggles, however, I had Wilspy fetch me yesterday's post, and there was an invitation waiting for me in my owl box. For Melina and Brennan's wedding."

"Yes, I received mine yesterday morning," Minerva said.

"It's to be the twenty-third. I don't know if you are planning to be at Hogwarts at that time, but I thought if you were, well, perhaps, if you would like, perhaps we might go together?" Albus asked. "Of course, if you have another escort, or aren't going to be – "

"I would love that. Yes. And even if I'm at my parents, I would like to. Yes. That's an excellent idea," Minerva said quickly, trying not to sound too excited about it.

"Very well. We can discuss the details closer to the event."

Minerva hesitated, remembering that Gertrude had been invited, too. "You know, I think that Melina and Brennan may have invited Gertrude. Brennan met her at my tea and they mentioned something about it."

"Really?" Albus said, finishing his last bit of bacon. "Perhaps we could sit together. The Hogwarts contingent, so to speak."

Minerva smiled. "Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it? And Poppy, too, since I believe she is also attending." He hadn't seemed to consider even for a moment asking Gertrude to come with them. Of course, she could make it there quite easily on her own, Minerva was certain. Although she should be generous about it . . . if all three of them were in the castle and were going at the same time. What mattered was that Albus had asked her to go with him, and they would be together.

Albus nodded. "Melina also asked about the binding, as you had said she might. It won't take long to remove the one and replace it with the basic marriage bond. I'm sure we can find somewhere to perform it quickly, and Brennan will be free to speak to and about the wizarding world however he wishes. Although, of course, I do hope he has some degree of circumspection."

"I'm sure he does. He doesn't want to be dragged off to a Muggle asylum, thought a lunatic, or, worse, be Obliviated by the Ministry," Minerva responded.

They finished their breakfast and left for their unhappy deed. They walked down to the gates together, Minerva taking Albus's elbow. He had put on a black bowler. Minerva thought a Homburg would suit him better, though, and suggested a change. Albus took off his hat and handed it to her, and with a quick wave of her wand, Minerva had changed the style of his hat.

"If you like it, you could make the change permanent, Albus, but this should last the day, at least," she said, "and I think it looks quite good on you, for a Muggle hat."

"I will take your word for it, my dear!" he responded cheerfully.

They stepped through the gates, and Albus turned to Minerva. "Are you ready?"

Minerva nodded. "Yes. I trust I will not lose my breakfast."

"I will endeavour to see to it," Albus said with a smile. He held out his hand to her, and Minerva stepped into his arms. "Just blank your mind and let me take care of the destination and the rest."

She relaxed, closing her eyes, her head resting against his chest, one hand on his shoulder and the other arm encircling him as she listened to his heartbeat and felt his magic surround her.

"Let me know when you are prepared," Albus said softly, one arm around her shoulders, the other at her waist.

Wishing she could stall, but knowing she shouldn't, Minerva nodded against his chest and said, "I'm ready."

Albus moved his hand up and held her just a bit more closely, then Minerva felt the sensation of Apparition and a moment later, she opened her eyes. They had arrived. Slowly, she stepped back and to his side, taking his arm as she did so.

"All right, my dear?" Albus asked.

"Perfectly, Albus. Very smooth. I scarcely knew we were Apparating, and I didn't hear a thing." Minerva smiled up at him. She looked around her. They were on a quiet street with small, detached houses. It looked as though they had all been constructed on one of three or four plans, sometimes reversed. "Which house is theirs? I'm surprised that people don't sometimes find themselves in the wrong house; they all look alike."

"Give it a few decades, and the houses will take on more individuality," Albus said, "but they don't live on this street. I thought we would walk a little ways. There's a park around the corner. We can cross through that and we'll reach their street easily."

Minerva nodded. As they crossed the little park, Albus indicated a bench near the small children's play area.

"Let's sit a bit, shall we?" he asked.

Before Minerva sat down, Albus gestured with his hand, drying the bench of any remaining morning dew and sweeping it clean.

Minerva smiled and sat, crossing her ankles, her purse in her lap. "Thank you, Albus."

"We wouldn't want your smart suit to become soiled," Albus said, sitting beside her. "I wanted to tell you a little about yesterday afternoon. It was a pity that you weren't able to accompany me then, but when I was unable to find Gertrude . . . I wasn't comfortable leaving the school entirely unattended."

"I hadn't realised you wanted me with you yesterday," Minerva said.

"Yes, I had hoped to find Gertrude and bring her back to the school with me, but when I couldn't . . . I needed to reach the Ministry quickly, not simply to find out what they knew but to try to stop them before they made the family notification."

"Of course. Gertrude said something about the Ministry not doing well at that when it came to Muggles."

Albus shook his head. "They mean well, usually, but they tend to confuse the Muggles' ignorance of the magical world for general ignorance. They condescend to them, but at the same time, they don't explain the circumstances properly. As a result, the families are never entirely sure what brought about their loved ones' deaths. And particularly since this was not the typical magical accident, I thought they deserved as much information as they could comprehend, but especially to know how very heroic Robert had been. I thought it most appropriate for that news to come from me, rather than some Ministry official who had never known him. I thought that it would be good to have you along, not only to provide me with a little support, my dear, but as a representative of Gryffindor House. Having read his letter last night, it seems even more appropriate for the current Head of his House to be with me today." He smiled at her. "And, of course, I very much appreciate your company, my dear. Thank you for coming with me on this sad errand."

"I hope that his letter . . . well, I suppose it's bound to upset them, but I hope it also gives them some comfort. Have you read it, Albus?"

He shook his head again. "It was already read by too many others at the Ministry. It was meant for them. If they care to share it with others, that is a different proposition. It does seem to be quite long, though, longer than the one that he wrote to me. In any event, yesterday, I told his sister and mother about the attack last month, and how bravely Robert defended the Higgs family. I told them that the werewolf was a Muggle woman, partly so that they wouldn't associate his death only with the wizarding world. I would be distressed if this event caused them to deny Matthew his place at Hogwarts. I explained to them the typical life of a werewolf, but also how we had created a place for him at Hogwarts, and how his colleagues supported him, then . . . well, I hadn't received his letter yet, so I couldn't explain his reasoning, but I told them that Robert nonetheless believed that he could not live as a werewolf and so took his own life. It is a pity that the Ministry did not release the letter to me before I called on them; I could have given them a less bleak picture of his decision. As much as I still disagree with what he did, he believed that what he was doing was the right thing, not just for himself, but for others."

"I know . . . I just wish he had talked to someone about it before he carried through on his plan," Minerva said with a sigh.

"I think the primary problem was his assumption that it was almost inevitable that he would at some point attack and kill or infect someone else. It is moot now, but I could have assured him of his safety. Not only is Belby committed to finding some kind of potion to alleviate the werewolf's condition, and I believe that he will eventually achieve that, but we could have isolated him entirely. My cottage is, as I said, very isolated. He would run no risk whatsoever of encountering another human being if he were to stay there over his transition."

"How can that be?" Minerva asked.

"It is the only habitation on its own little island, and it is secured by wards. It is truly set apart from the rest of the world. Perhaps I could have impressed that upon him . . ."

Minerva wondered again whether this was the same cottage at which he had discovered Valerianna with another wizard, but since they had never explicitly discussed Valerianna, and he might not know that she had heard that part of the story, she could find no way to ask about it tactfully. Instead, she listened as Albus told her about the family's reaction to the news the previous day.

"It sounds as though they took it very hard," Minerva said after he had finished describing his visit.

"It was a shock to them, particularly as they had no idea that he had been bitten or in hospital. There is one other thing, Minerva," Albus said hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"It's just . . . last night . . . I know we have cleared the air, so to speak, but I need to explain to you that I did enjoy our time together, and your offer of comfort was welcome. It's simply that I often need time to process something before I can talk about it, and especially when I am tired. I did not mean to seem to be putting you off, my dear. I know that you care about me, and that means so much to me, please don't doubt that. I would have found your continued company a comfort, truly . . . I just couldn't talk about my own feelings just then. I wouldn't have been able to find the words even if I had wanted to talk. Can you understand that?"

"Yes, I can, and I said something similar, myself, when everyone was trying to cheer up Gertrude a couple weeks ago . . . it's just . . . it reminded me of the way you were after Carson's death," Minerva answered frankly.

"That was somewhat different . . . both the circumstances and my own internal state at the time. I mistakenly thought I was protecting you by not burdening you with my own grief, but I also . . . I needed to put my feelings aside for a time in order to do what needed to be done. It had been a very difficult few years up to that point, with many losses and many failures . . . I honestly do not know if I could have gathered myself together sufficiently to mount the attack on the Grindelwald's castle, let alone to duel him, if I had . . . let go just then. It probably did take longer for me to recover after the war as a result, but, for me, the way that I function best, it was the only thing I could do at the time. Perhaps if I had had the presence of mind at the time, I might have at least . . . accepted your company. But by that point in the war . . . I think I was even beyond that."

"I remember how you returned one night when I was in my fifth year; you were very distraught," Minerva said softly.

"Yes, and you responded perfectly, so warmly, as I have always appreciated from you. You were very young, but you were very comforting for me, just your presence and knowing that you cared . . . ."

"Didn't you have anyone you could talk to during the war?" Minerva asked, then immediately regretted it, feeling that she was treading on personal ground where she did not belong, but Albus answered her question without hesitation.

"Yes . . . sometimes I would, of course, speak with some of the Aurors and others who had shared the same experiences. And Gertrude was at the school, and she is well-acquainted with pain, and she lost her husband, then later, her brother, to Grindelwald. I spoke to her sometimes, but primarily . . . primarily, she was just company. She . . . she has an ability to sit and just be there."

Minerva nodded. "Quin said that after Aileen died, she stayed with him night and day."

"I am sure that she was a comfort to him," Albus said softly. He looked up. "But come, it is getting later. We need to deliver the letter and speak with the family, then return to Hogwarts and prepare for the staff meeting, although I do not believe that it will be a long one. I was thinking that perhaps tomorrow, if you would like, you might say a few words at the memorial? As Head of Gryffindor?"

"Of course. I will be pleased to," Minerva answered.

Albus stood and offered her his hand, which she took as she rose from the bench. He placed her hand at his elbow, and together, they set off to speak to a family about their sad loss and deliver his final letter to them.

Although there had been some debate the day before about the appropriate venue for Pretnick's memorial, it was held in the rose garden, just as Wilhelmina had originally suggested. To Minerva's surprise, Professor Dustern did, indeed, come to the small gathering, though she had not been at the meeting the previous day. The entire Hogwarts staff was present, Norman James appearing somewhat haggard after multiple Portkeys across Asia then Europe had brought him back to Britain a week early, and six members of the Board of Governors were in attendance, as well – two Gryffindors, two Slytherins, one Hufflepuff, and one Ravenclaw. Minerva had spoken the first words at the event, in her first official act as Head of Gryffindor House, and then those who felt comfortable doing so, stood and informally offered their memories of their late colleague. Finally, Albus offered his own words, stressing the heroism exhibited by the late Defence teacher and only referring once to the pressures that had brought him to end his own life, saying that he hoped that advances both social and medical would be made so that future victims of the werewolf curse were not faced with such a grim fate.

Gertrude, in her capacity as Deputy Headmistress, had arranged for light refreshments to be served in the garden and had asked the new Charms teacher to provide some appropriate background music for people to mingle and reminisce about their deceased colleague. Minerva was trying to decide whether she had any appetite when she sensed someone at her elbow. She turned and saw Professor Dustern.

"I would like to offer my condolences to you on the loss of your fellow Gryffindor. Professor Pretnick was a model for your House – I don't mean, that is, not that his last action – I am not saying this correctly." Dustern took a breath. "I taught him for the seven years he was a student here, and when he was brought on staff last summer, I was pleased to welcome him. He will be missed, I am sure . . . more than I will be, certainly. But also, if I may, what I said to you last week was uncalled for. You were always an exemplary student, both bright and diligent. I do not doubt your ability as a teacher or in your new position. I . . . apologise."

Minerva, as dumbstruck by this speech as she had been by the witch's previous invective, could only nod at first, but then she cleared her throat and said, "Of course . . . I am sure it had been a trying day for you."

Dustern just pursed her lips and nodded.

"Apology accepted, then," Minerva added lightly, deciding it cost her little to be magnanimous in this situation.

The former Charms teacher's expression softened. "Congratulations on your installation as Head of Gryffindor. I wish you the best." She offered her hand, which Minerva took and shook briefly, then Professor Dustern departed with a nod.

Minerva watched the witch discreetly as she spoke with a few of her former colleagues, shook Flitwick's hand, then left the garden, headed in the direction of the gates.

"What did she have to say for herself?" Gertrude said as she appeared at Minerva's side.

"She apologised for what she said last week before you Silenced her," Minerva answered.

"Did she really?" Gertrude asked, one eyebrow raised.

"You could have knocked me over with a feather. I really don't know which surprised me more, her initial speech or her apology," Minerva said.

Gertrude shrugged. "I doubt you will have to deal with her again. If you do encounter her elsewhere now, though, at least you will be less uncomfortable. I actually was coming over here because I think that Albus needs to have some time to himself and some rest. Knowing him as I do, however, I believe that he would stay here until the final guest left, regardless of who it was or whether his presence was necessary. So, if you do not mind colluding with me in a bit of a rescue operation, I thought that together, we might be able to convince him that he has done enough and that he can leave the guests to their own devices."

Minerva looked over at Albus, where he stood speaking with two of the members of the Board.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked neutrally. In principle, she agreed with Gertrude, but she thought it best not to agree to anything immediately.

"Simplicity is the best strategy here, I believe. I will approach him, join the conversation, then you will come along, and I will persuade him that he can leave the Hogwarts guests to me and the Hogwarts staff to themselves and that you should take him off for a walk – or he, you. I suggest down near the greenhouses and Johannes's gardens, since you are unlikely to encounter anyone down there who would engage him in conversation. Does that sound acceptable to you? If you don't mind going for a walk with Albus, that is."

"Of course I don't mind. We can try, I suppose. Oh, there goes Cornelius Fudge to speak to him now. I couldn't understand why he wanted to be on the Board of Governors. I don't think he has the slightest bit of interest in education, and he and his wife have no children. I assume he thinks that it will help him advance in the Ministry if he is on Albus's good side."

"Mmm, well, let's go save Albus from the sycophants, shall we?" Gertrude said.

Minerva waited a few minutes until it appeared as though Gertrude had succeeded in fully entering the conversation, then she approached the small group. The music had shifted from sedate adagios to some brighter, lighter pieces, no doubt to encourage the mood of the attendees to likewise brighten. It seemed a good time for Albus to depart.

"Professor McGonagall, I was just speaking of you," Gertrude said. "I am sure that you are acquainted with Mr Fudge, Hufflepuff, a few years behind you in school, and this is Mr Darrowby and Mrs Ingers, both of Slytherin."

Minerva greeted the three school governors cordially.

"Now, I believe you needed a word with the Headmaster," Gertrude said. "Perhaps we should allow you some privacy in which to discuss your matter. Better yet, you might wish to find somewhere else to speak. Professor Dumbledore," she added, turning to Albus, "I am sure that Professor McGonagall could benefit from a walk, she has been so hard at work the last few days. I am happy to stay and speak with our guests."

Before Albus knew what was happening, he had agreed, barely had a moment to take his leave of the school governors, and Minerva had taken his arm and was very gently steering him out of the rose garden and around the castle toward the greenhouses.

As they rounded the west side of the castle and the music grew faint, he smiled down at her and said, "I should have known when I saw the two of you with your heads together a few minutes ago that you were planning something."

"Yes, well, we both know how you are – and how those people can be. They'd keep you there forever if they could," Minerva said with some exaggeration. "We were your rescue team."

Albus chuckled at that. "The two of you together could be quite dangerous, I do believe!" he teased.

"You never know what might happen when a Slytherin and a Gryffindor get together," Minerva said with a grin.

"So, is there more to this plot? Do I need to be on my toes?" Albus asked.

"Oh, you should always be on your toes," Minerva teased, "but as for this plot, I have now achieved our goal: we have arrived at the greenhouses."

"And what are we supposed to be doing at the greenhouses?" Albus asked.

"Avoiding people," Minerva answered simply, but her mind went to the students who liked to go to a particular nook behind greenhouse three in order to avoid people for a very specific purpose. "Let's just walk a bit. You were supposed to be taking me for a walk, after all."

Albus said, "Then may I recommend that we walk over to the gardens behind greenhouse three, my dear? Johannes has some lovely flowers in full bloom there."

Minerva blushed, thinking of her recent thought about the activities that were often engaged in behind greenhouse three, but she answered, "That sounds very nice."

Albus noticed Minerva's blush and realised that his suggestion had likely sounded like a pick-up line, a very bad pick-up line.

"Or, if you prefer, we could walk down by the lake," he offered.

"No, the gardens would be nice," Minerva said.

The two walked and talked, Albus pointing out particular plants that had interesting properties or uses in potions. The conversation eventually turned back to the memorial, its attendees, and various remarks made by Robert's colleagues. As they walked, Minerva's hand slid down Albus's arm, and she took his hand. Her heart beat faster. Holding hands with Albus, feeling the warmth and strength of his hand around hers, and his magic pulsing against her palm, Minerva felt simultaneously nervous and enlivened, and her hopes rose, soaring again for the first time in days.

"Perhaps we should return to the castle," Albus suggested softly, and his voice sent a thrill through her. "Most folk should be dispersed. Or we could use the lower entry at the base of the north tower. We would probably avoid everyone, even staff, if we were to do that."

Minerva nodded her assent. Could he possibly be feeling anything like what she was right then?

They walked back to the castle, Albus dropping her hand as they approached the tower. He didn't draw his wand, but simply held out his hand, and Minerva could feel a ripple of magic aimed at the ancient door. It creaked open, and Albus waved his hand again, lighting the lanterns that hung inside the door.

"Have you ever been this way?" he asked.

"No. I've been through the exit by Wilhelmina's quarters, but not this one," Minerva answered.

"We're in the upper dungeon here. It is only narrow for a short way, then we will come out to the main corridor on the same level," Albus said.

They reached the main corridor, and Albus offered Minerva his arm again. She was slightly disappointed that he didn't take her hand, but she supposed that there was a remote possibility that they might encounter Slughorn or one of the other staff members. It would look peculiar for them to be walking hand-in-hand.

"Now, here is another Headmaster's shortcut," Albus said as they reached a bright tapestry depicting magical animals of every description, a bearded, white-haired wizard standing in their midst, a large staff in his right hand. He somewhat resembled Albus, but for the colour of his hair and beard.

Albus waved his hand and the tapestry drew itself to one side, revealing what appeared to be a blank stone wall, but at a gesture from Albus, the wall shimmered, the outline of a door appeared, then the stone vanished, revealing a hallway, well-lit with lanterns. It was wide enough for them to walk side-by-side. The doorway vanished as soon as they stepped inside, and Minerva shivered, but she was with Albus; she was safe. After a dozen yards, Albus stopped, placed his hand on the wall to his left, and another door appeared. When they stepped through, Minerva was astonished to discover they were on the second floor.

She looked around. "But, we didn't go up. How did we get here?" she asked.

Albus shrugged and smiled, amused. "It's Hogwarts, my dear. That hallway had exits to the second, fourth, and sixth floors, and, of course, to the upper level of the dungeons. It feels as though we are remaining on the level, but we are not. May I accompany you to Gryffindor Tower? Or walk me to the gargoyle?"

Minerva smiled. "Your gargoyle is fine, Albus."

When they reached the gargoyle, she was disappointed when Albus thanked her for her assistance rescuing him, then bowed over her hand, lips barely brushing her knuckles, before he wished her a good afternoon.

"I hope the rest of your afternoon is pleasant. I assume I will see you at dinner?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," Minerva answered, hiding her disappointment that he didn't invite her up. "I hope you have a good afternoon, as well, Albus. I enjoyed our walk very much."

"As did I, my dear. Very much. Thank you for your lovely company."

Minerva made her way back to her rooms, taking the stairs all the way up rather than going down one flight and Flooing from her office. Her heart was in her shoes, and when she reached her rooms, she stared at the Silent Knight, her mind a blank, forgetting what her most recent password was. To her mild surprise, the Knight bowed to her.

"My lady, I am your servant. Wish you entry?"

"Yes . . ." Before Minerva could utter her password, the Knight opened her door to her.

"A most pleasant afternoon to you, my lady," the Knight said.

"Um, thank you." Minerva stepped through.

There was apparently something wrong with her door portrait, since he was not supposed to open to anyone, even her, without a password, but she couldn't be bothered with that at the moment. Somehow, she doubted, despite the Knight's peculiar behaviour, that he would simply open to anyone who came by. She would have to read the Gryffindor book on the portrait network. Perhaps there was something she could do to fix it. If not . . . if not, she'd have to consult Albus.

Albus . . . her throat tightened. She was such a fool. And if he were beginning to twig to her feelings, if when he held her hand – no, when she held his hand – if he found that odd or uncomfortable . . . . Oh, no, he couldn't possibly know how she felt and yet not return her feelings, could he? No . . . she couldn't bear that. But it would explain why he had taken his leave from her as he had, not to mention, why he hadn't invited her up to his office. Or, he could simply be tired. That was as likely an explanation as any, she decided, trying to be rational about it. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to be only Albus's friend and nothing more. Minerva didn't know how much longer she could bear it.

She felt like taking a nap, to shut out the world for a while, if nothing else, but instead, she went into her pleasant study and pulled out a parchment and her favourite quill.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Minerva"

Minerva was just sealing her letter when she heard barking coming from her sitting room. When she entered the sitting room, the Silent Knight bowed with a creak and left the landscape, and Fidelio sat down and thumped his tail, tongue out in a big doggy smile.

"Good boy, Fidelio. You may rejoin the Knight now," Minerva said. She wished she knew who was at the door, but the Knight had not deigned to announce whoever it was.

Minerva opened the door and saw Gertrude standing there.

"Gertrude! Good afternoon," Minerva greeted.

"Good afternoon, Minerva. I thought I would stop by on my way to my rooms."

"Your rooms are on the second floor, Gertrude, unless you have recently moved," Minerva pointed out, but she opened the door to the older witch. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you. I was imprecise in my language. I thought I would stop by before going to my rooms," Gertrude said, choosing the armchair next to the fireplace.

"I'm sorry – would you like some tea? Biscuits?" Minerva offered.

"No, thank you, although if you were about to have tea, please don't let me keep you – "

Minerva shook her head and sat down in the armchair across from her. "Everyone has left, I presume."

"Yes. Did you successfully avoid everyone on your walk with Albus?"

Minerva nodded. "Yes. It was quite uneventful. I left him at the gargoyle about forty-five minutes ago."

"I am sure he appreciated your rescue," Gertie said with a crooked smile.

"Mmm, although he knew immediately that you and I had colluded. He seemed amused, though."

"Yes, well, we were rather obvious about it, although I don't believe the governors were any the wiser, even Ingers and Darrowby, although they likely knew he was taking advantage of the opportunity to escape the gathering early."

Minerva was at a loss. Although she had come to have somewhat warmer feelings for the witch sitting across from her, she had no idea what to say or why the witch had stopped by and stayed.

"I was just about to owl a letter," Minerva said, thinking that perhaps Gertrude would excuse herself at that point.

"Convenient to be so close to the Owlery," Gertrude observed. "Did you and Albus have a good walk, then? It was a beautiful afternoon for a walk in the gardens."

"Yes. It was a nice afternoon. We walked through the flower gardens before we returned to the castle," Minerva answered.

"I am sure that Albus was glad for the respite and to be able to spend some time with you."

Minerva nodded noncommittally. Given her feelings at the moment, she really didn't want to sit there discussing how glad Albus may have been to spend time with her.

"Albus may not always express himself as openly as one might think he should, as a Gryffindor, but that is an acquired habit, the result of long years of self-denial and discipline, but he cares for you very much, Minerva. You have a special place in his life, and I think you can do a lot to help him overcome some of those habits."

"Perhaps . . . would you like to walk with me to the Owlery? I thought I would take a nap before dinner," Minerva said.

Gertie chuckled. "No, thank you. I just wanted to stop by and see if you were in and if you had a nice walk. A nap sounds like a good idea. I may have one, myself."

After Gertie left, Minerva shook her head. She wondered whether the other witch had some notion about her feelings for Albus and had been fishing to see what Minerva had to say about him. But she had had few occasions to observe Minerva and Albus together, and certainly on almost all of them, they had been in public. Minerva was fairly certain that her behaviour around Albus in public had been perfectly appropriate. No, whatever Gertie's motives were for her visit and her statements, they were based on something other than observing Minerva when she was in the company of Albus. And Minerva was fairly certain that Quin would never say anything to anyone. She would talk to him about that the next time she saw him. If he had, it was likely inadvertent. She would just owl her letter and take her nap and not think about anything for a while. Then she would go to dinner and behave as though everything in her life was normal.

Albus went up to his sitting room. He should stay in his office and do some work, but there was nothing pressing, nothing that couldn't wait until tomorrow. He was pleased with himself. He had become aware of his growing pleasure in Minerva's company, and when she took his hand as they walked through the gardens, he had allowed him to take some enjoyment in it, mostly contentment that she cared for him. Still, as they walked, his imagination began to create a new notion, the notion that Minerva cared for him in the same way that he cared for her, that when she held his hand, her heart beat a little faster, that when she looked up and smiled at him, she was looking at a wizard with whom she was in love. Albus put a stop those wild thoughts, and when the two began to return to the castle, he vowed that he would behave as a gentleman toward Minerva, that he would not allow his fantasies to overwhelm his good sense, and that he would give Minerva no cause to be uncomfortable with his gestures of affection. And he had achieved that. He had bid her a good-afternoon just as he should, and with no indication of his ludicrous romantic feelings or his unseemly desires. Yes, Albus was pleased with himself. But he also felt bleakly empty and alone, and that was the stronger sense, overriding any satisfaction he felt at behaving with propriety.

Albus reminded himself of his blessings, including Minerva's presence at Hogwarts and her friendship, then called to mind the happiest moments of the past few days, all of which involved Minerva, and gradually his heart eased and his mind calmed without him having to perform any Occlumency or other mental exercises. He picked up the most recent novel he had borrowed from Minerva, actually something he had read several decades before, and joined three men in a boat, to say nothing of the dog, for an hour or two of amusement before he had to check his Charmed owl box and go through the late afternoon post before dinner.

Note: From 20 November through 27 November 2007, there will be a poll up on my LJ asking you to choose your favourite character. When the poll closes, I will reveal the results and write a one-shot featuring that character. Hop on over and vote!

I will be taking my own holiday for Thanksgiving, so don't panic when there's no update for a while – my Muse is coming with me, and we'll be gone for at least a week!