CXII: Unexpected Arrivals

PART SEVENTEEN

CXII: Unexpected Arrivals

Minerva woke early Monday morning and stretched in bed. She really didn't want to get up yet, but she had agreed to meet Gertrude and Malcolm in Gertrude's rooms for breakfast. She had never been in the older witch's rooms, and wondered what they were like. She had been at the school a long time. Presumably, she was well-settled in and had well-appointed rooms.

When they had walked back to the castle Saturday evening, they had found Hagrid out in front of the castle, looking up into the sky. The two witches looked up reflexively and saw a Thestral, high above them, Malcolm just visible on its back.

"Never been able to get tha' one t' accept a rider afore," Hagrid said. "Can't use 'im t' draw carriages, neither. Wilhelmina could do aught t' convince 'im. Tha' brother o' yours, though, M'nerva, inside o' two minutes, 'e was on 'is back, leadin' 'im through 'is paces. They been up there fer a while, though, an' I'm awonderin' if Thestral's gone and changed 'is mind abou' bein' friendly."

Gertrude seemed to blanch at Hagrid's words, and she drew her wand. Minerva hoped that Hagrid was wrong. A fall from that height, even a wizard wouldn't survive it. Hagrid couldn't do anything to stop it, either. Minerva drew her wand, as well, ready to cast arresting and cushioning charms, if need be. But the Thestral began to fly lower, circling, until he glided to the earth a few yards from where they stood. Malcolm patted the ugly creature's neck and dismounted, his cheeks pink from the wind and the cool air at the high altitude.

He grinned. "Good deal of fun, that. Ta, Hagrid. He'll be good for you now. Just give him an extra treat or two after, so he feels special." He turned back to the Thestral and made clicking sound, then patted its rump. The Thestral trotted off in the direction of the Forest.

Hagrid invited the three out to his cabin for a drink, but they all declined. Malcolm shook his hand, and Hagrid went back to his little home as the other three went into the castle.

"Whatever were you thinking, Malcolm? Do you have a death wish?" Minerva asked.

Malcolm laughed good-naturedly. "No such thing, little sister. Once we'd reached an understanding, he was quite cooperative. Easier than mounting a dragon, for certain."

"You've ridden a dragon?" Gertrude asked.

"A few times. Not the same one. They don't like it much, usually. The first time, though, was of necessity. I'd made a few people rather angry, and I needed to make a quick departure. Unfortunately, my wand was broken and I was rather, um, under the weather, so the dragon seemed the safest and fastest way to leave," Malcolm replied.

Minerva caught the look that passed over Gertrude's face. Whereas Minerva felt somewhat annoyed and even a bit disbelieving of her brother's tale, Gertrude was plainly impressed.

"You'll have to tell me more about that," Gertrude said.

Malcolm quirked a grin. "My pleasure. Although perhaps . . . it's getting late. I suppose I should be getting home."

When Gertrude hesitated, Minerva said, "You needn't. There's no one around. Why don't you stay? There are several guest rooms available. I am sure that as Deputy, Gertrude would be able to find one for you."

Malcolm looked over at Gertrude. "I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome."

"We can talk about it. No need for you to decide this moment," Gertrude said. "But you would be welcome to stay, if you like."

Minerva excused herself, and when she reached the first landing and looked back down, the two were still standing there in the front hall, simply looking at each other, their gazes unwavering. She hastened up the stairs, back to her rooms.

It still struck her as odd that Gertrude and Malcolm seemed to have dived headlong into their relationship. It didn't appear in character for either of them. Murdoch and Poppy had probably spent more time together, and were generally much more open and expressive than either of the other two, and yet they still hadn't gone beyond a little kissing in Murdoch's backroom. Once she had thought about it, it hadn't surprised her that Murdoch and Poppy would get along. They seemed in some ways a natural pair. But Gertrude and Malcolm . . . Minerva actually didn't see either of them as naturally paired with anyone. And Gertrude seemed to have thrown her normal reserve overboard, and Malcolm, by his own admission, was not normally prone to developing romantic attachments. Now, he believed he was falling in love.

As Minerva readied herself for bed that night, she wondered whether she was the only person destined for unrequited love. It wouldn't be so bad, she thought, to see these other couples around her, if she herself weren't completely in love with a wizard whose affection for her was platonic and unlikely to change. She might be lonely, of course, but the contrast with her own situation might not have provoked such envy in her.

She sat on the edge of her bed and looked at the little photo of Albus. She remembered with clarity the evening when he had bought the rose from Gypsy and put it in her hair. Such a lovely gesture. And the nazar and the twinned stones, they were also from that same evening. It had been so like a date that she had wanted to pretend it was one, and that hadn't been difficult. But then . . . they hadn't had another day like that one. It had been wonderful from start to finish. Minerva picked up the evil eye. A "naturally occurring nazar," Albus had called it, and he had seemed superstitious about her keeping it on for the evening.

She rubbed her finger across the smooth, warm surface of stone, and then she wiped its small mirrored setting with the edge of her dressing gown. It no longer had the same disconcerting effect on her that it had had when she had first seen it, but there was something vaguely mesmerising about it. She had worn it when she had gone to bed after Albus had told her of his youth and his defeat of Grindelwald. Worn it, held it, and fantasised of young Albus making love to Maria. Minerva flushed, thinking of her fantasy, and how she had pretended that she had been that young woman, giving Albus comfort and love and pleasure after his ordeals. Odd, how she had moved from envy of the woman, jealousy, even, to taking her own pleasure in the thought of Albus with her.

Minerva wondered again whether Albus and Gertrude had ever been lovers. Strangely, the thought seemed purely abstract at that moment, as though she was wondering whether he had taken a NEWT in Charms, or something equally mundane. Minerva remembered the expression that had crossed Gertrude's face when she had asked her whether she had told Albus about the relationship with Malcolm. Without knowing precisely what had been going through the witch's mind, Minerva surmised that Gertrude did not want to hide it from the Headmaster, but was still reluctant, for some reason, to come right out and tell him. Perhaps for as simple a reason as embarrassment about having an affair with a man she'd only just met, or because she didn't know how long the relationship would last, but Minerva thought there was more to it than that. But it was none of her business. Just as it was none of her business whether Malcolm had stayed the night, and if so, where. During term time, it would be different, of course. It wouldn't do to have the students seeing a wizard spending the night with the Deputy Headmistress. It simply wasn't done. By then, though, perhaps Malcolm would have grown bored, or Gertrude disenchanted, and the question would be moot. If not . . . Minerva hoped that they could find some way of being together that wouldn't involve too much sneaking about, as Malcolm had put it. As she thought about the two, Minerva's envy had melted away and been replaced by the hope that the two would still be happy together when school began, and beyond.

The next morning, Minerva had gone out for her walk and had come across the two, also out for a morning stroll, but they had apparently become distracted. By each other. They weren't in the sort of embrace that Minerva had seen them in before, thankfully, but this one seemed almost as intimate. They were standing beside the lake, the mist rising up behind them, Malcolm in his kilt, Gertrude in a set of pale blue and silver robes; Malcolm was holding her pressed closely to him, and her hands rested on his upper arms as she leaned back and looked into his face. Minerva didn't believe they were speaking, just looking at one another. They hadn't noticed her, and Malcolm leaned forward and kissed Gertrude lightly on the forehead, and Gertrude relaxed against him. Then Malcolm turned his head slightly, caught sight of his sister, and said something. The two broke their embrace, Gertrude stepping back away from him, Malcolm lifting a hand as if to reach for her before dropping it and turning to greet his sister with a smile.

Malcolm spent most of the day at Hogwarts, but wasn't present that evening when Minerva left for dinner at her parents', though Gertrude said that he was returning later, and they would like it if she joined them for breakfast in the morning. And so now she was getting ready to have breakfast with the two. She presumed that Malcolm had spent the night in Gertrude's rooms, though she wouldn't dream of asking such a thing.

Before leaving, Minerva went into her study and fetched the sheaf of parchments that she had prepared for Albus. He had asked that she have them on the twelfth, and it was the twelfth. Gertrude had mentioned the day before that she was expecting Albus back either late Tuesday or early Wednesday, but simply because the Headmaster wasn't here didn't excuse her from having them done, she thought.

She trotted down the five flights of stairs to the second floor, annoyed when she had to wait for one of the staircases to swing around to her at the fifth floor landing, then headed for the gargoyle. Again, she knocked when she reached the top of the spiral stairs, and again, there was no response. The portraits all appeared to be sleeping, and Minerva crossed the room and deposited her work on the Headmaster's desk without any awkward conversations with them. When she left, she slipped into her tabby form to trot down the moving stairs, then returned to her ordinary form when she reached the bottom. Now to Gertrude's room.

When she arrived, the portrait at Gertrude's door greeted her and said that she would let the Deputy Headmistress know that she was there. A moment after the portrait had disappeared, the door opened and Gertrude greeted her with a smile.

"Good morning, Minerva! Please, come in."

Minerva stepped in. She hadn't known precisely what she had expected from the Arithmancer's sitting room, but it hadn't been this. It wasn't cluttered, precisely, and it seemed neat and well-organized, but it was very full. Every shelf was filled with books, and the shelves lined the walls, covering every available space. Various curios and framed photographs sat on many of the shelves in front of the rows of books. The sofa was over-stuffed and comfortable-looking, though the upholstery was somewhat worn and shiny in places. There were two armchairs in fabric that complemented the sofa, and a plain square table near the window had been set for three for breakfast. The floor was covered by oriental carpets of various sizes and styles, contributing to the warmth of the room. At the moment, daylight streamed in through the large leaded-glass windows, but a modest chandelier hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room, and there were two floor lamps on either side of the couch. Other than two sconces on either side of the fireplace, there were no wall lamps or candles – there was little place for them – and rather than a portrait above the fireplace, there was a large mirror in an arched, dark wooden frame. Minerva wondered for a moment where the portrait had gone when she had announced her, but as she crossed the room and Gertrude closed the door behind her, she saw that there was a painting on the reverse side of the door. There was something else that struck Minerva about the room, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it.

"Thank you for inviting me for breakfast, Gertie," Minerva said, wondering where her brother was.

"I should have done so long ago, Minerva. Please, have a seat. Malcolm had an early morning errand, but he will be along soon. Would you care for some tea or coffee while we wait?"

"Yes, tea, please," Minerva responded as she sat in one of the two armchairs.

"Spoonie!" Gertrude called.

A very tiny bluish elf popped into the sitting room.

"Good morning, Spoonie. Our guest would like tea, and if you would also bring my coffee, I would appreciate it."

"Yes, Professor Gamp." The house-elf turned to Minerva. "Would the professor prefer English breakfast tea or a pure Assam?" she asked politely.

"Breakfast tea, please," Minerva said.

The house-elf performed what appeared to be a curtsey then Disapparated.

"She's the smallest house-elf I've ever seen," Minerva observed.

"Yes . . . she was something of a rescue case. We prevailed upon her previous family to release her to Hogwarts," Gertrude said. "She's been with me for almost ten years, and she has blossomed. You wouldn't have recognised her from the wreck she had become when she first joined the Hogwarts house-elves."

"Prevailed upon the family to release her to Hogwarts?" Minerva asked, puzzled.

"Transferred her bondage to Hogwarts," Gertrude explained.

"I understand that . . . but I've never heard of a pureblood family ever simply releasing a house-elf to another family – or in this instance, to Hogwarts – for no reason. It's usually to discharge a debt or as a dowry gift or something of that sort. If a house-elf is unsatisfactory, they normally simply free them and the house-elves disappear."

"Mmm. Perhaps I should have said that we exerted some pressure upon them," Gertrude said with a smirk.

"Who is 'we'?" Minerva assumed that she was speaking of her and the Headmaster.

"My mother and I. The Gamps need no more house-elves, and we certainly didn't want the ties that might be assumed if we were to have her bondage transferred to the Gamp family. Having the poor child become a Hogwarts house-elf seemed the ideal solution. Albus dealt with it on this end, got Dippet to go along with it."

Minerva thought of the Gamp house-elves. While some of them seemed to be overly obsequious compared with the house-elves she had grown up with, they had all seemed well-fed, well-covered, and, from what she could tell, happy. And Gluffy was certainly a fat and happy house-elf if ever she had seen one – and he had said that he had been admonished, not punished, for having sent her letter without being asked.

A minute later, a pot of tea and one of coffee arrived on the small, low table in front of them, and they fixed their cups.

Minerva was at a loss for what to say, finally resorting to, "Nice room."

"Thank you. I find it comfortable."

Minerva looked around the room again, and then realised that she had subconsciously expected them to be decorated in Slytherin shades, and this room appeared Gryffindor, if anything, though the reds were deep burgundies and not the brighter scarlet normally associated with that House.

The two sipped their tea and coffee, and Minerva tried to find something else to say.

"So, Malcolm will be returning soon?"

"Yes. He left about an hour ago. He didn't believe it would take long. He had made arrangements yesterday," Gertrude said cryptically.

"I see," Minerva responded, although she didn't. "Do you have plans for the day?"

"Malcolm is going to stay and keep me company, since I cannot leave until Albus returns."

"I could take the wards for you, if you would like to leave during the day. I am going to be out of the castle for dinner again this evening, but I won't need to leave until after five o'clock," Minerva offered.

"Thank you, but I think we'll just stay here. I will keep that in mind, though!" Gertrude smiled.

Minerva wanted to ask about the older witch's relationship with Malcolm, but couldn't think of anything to ask that didn't sound either rude or impertinent. Finally, she gave up, and simply said, "You and Malcolm are still getting along well, then. What I mean is, you are enjoying each other's company – I mean – "

Gertrude chuckled. "We are getting along quite well, yes. We haven't yet woken up and wondered what on earth we were doing with each other. Or if he has, he hasn't said. And to the extent that I do wonder, I wonder more about it generally. It does occur to me that he might decide that today is the day he will leave, and he will say good-bye and I won't see him again. But . . . I am willing to take that risk and I think it is worth it."

"For what it's worth, I doubt he'll be leaving any time soon," Minerva said. "I think you happened to catch him at a good time, before he'd yet decided he had to leave, and now you have given him reason to stay."

"I hope so," Gertrude said softly. "I will never try to hold on to him if he wishes to leave, but . . . I find that I do not look forward to that day, let alone envision ever wishing him to leave, myself."

Minerva felt awkward, but she said, "It will be difficult when school begins, I would think. And that might pose a problem."

Gertrude nodded. "I know . . . and he might grow impatient with the demands on my time and the more limited access he would have to the school."

Before Minerva could respond – thankfully, since she didn't know how she could reassure Gertrude about those worries – the door opened and Malcolm stepped in, looking bright-eyed and energetic, and holding . . . a puppy?

Yes, in Malcolm's arms was a squirming little brindle-coloured puppy. He put him down on the floor and crossed over to Gertrude.

"Good morning, Minerva! And good morning to you, again, Tru," he said, reaching out and brushing her cheek briefly.

The puppy was scampering about, sniffing everything, seeming to fall over his own legs every now and then.

"A puppy, Malcolm?" Minerva asked.

"Mmhm . . . for Hagrid. A present. I know a chap who breeds Great Danes, and by some luck, he had a litter he was just preparing to sell. This little fellow isn't quite up to snuff for breeders to want, according to him, but I think he is fine, and very 'lively,' as Hagrid would say. I thought the puppy might bring Brutus a little companionship, and when Brutus does finally pass on to chew his bones in the farther realms, it might be a bit easier on Hagrid if he has this little nipper to keep him company. And better to get him now, not only for Brutus, but because when Brutus is gone, Hagrid will likely not want to consider getting another dog for a while, but if this fellow is already there, well, he'll be glad to have him."

Minerva smiled and reached down to scratch the dog's head as he sniffed her shoes. "That was very thoughtful, Malcolm. And an excellent idea." She looked over at Gertrude, and if she had had any doubt before that Gertrude was smitten with her oldest brother, the look the witch was giving him at that moment would have erased it.

After breakfast, Minerva went down to Hagrid's with Gertrude, Malcolm, and "the little nipper," as Malcolm called the puppy. Hagrid was immediately taken with the puppy, naming him "Caesar." Brutus took an interest, too, and Minerva asked jokingly whether it was unlucky to name the puppy "Caesar" when his other dog's name was "Brutus," but Hagrid just laughed and said he'd be sure to watch them on the ides of March. Minerva stayed and watched the puppy trying to play with old Brutus, nipping his ears and charging at him, then coming to a skidding halt and falling over. Brutus took it all in good humour, though, and Minerva thought that the puppy might have given the old dog a bit more life to his final days.

Suddenly, Gertrude raised her head as though listening to something.

"Hmm . . . the Headmaster has returned," she said.

Minerva tried to appear uninterested, but her heart leapt in her chest. "He's back early?"

"It appears so," the Arithmancy teacher said. "Perhaps you might go see him, let him know we're all out here. It might appear that the place is deserted otherwise."

That sounded unlikely, but Minerva agreed and walked quickly around the castle, seeing Albus just entering its front doors. She picked up her pace and followed him in. She was somewhat winded when she entered, but Albus had just begun to climb the stairs as the door closed behind her.

"Albus!" she called as he turned to see who had come in behind him.

"Minerva! My dear! I hadn't expected to see you today." A delighted smile lit his face. "Is everything well?"

"Quite well, thank you, Albus. But I did have Hogwarts business to attend to . . . I could have owled the applications to you, but I thought perhaps you might want to discuss them. And, um, I had other preparations to make. The first of September will be here before we know it," Minerva said, hoping that her excuses for her early return sounded plausible.

"The applications, of course . . . yes, you could have owled them. But it was diligent of you to return to the school. I hope that you are enjoying your holiday, though," Albus answered as Minerva stepped up the stairs to join him.

"Quite. Thank you. And you? Professor Gamp had said that you would be returning late tomorrow or early the following day."

"It was nice, thank you," he said, continuing up the stairs, Minerva at his side. "I spent most of Friday and Saturday with Robert and Thea. She is looking quite well, and your mother has done wonders with her. The local Healers, even the most sceptical, now believe she will have a healthy baby."

Minerva smiled happily. "That is wonderful news, Albus. And I am sure that Gertrude will be happy to hear that, though she may have already. I don't know, she hasn't mentioned it. And yesterday?"

"Hmm?" Albus raised his eyebrows.

"You said you spent Friday and Saturday with the Crouches. What about yesterday? Did you have a good day?"

Albus nodded. "Very satisfactory, my dear. And how has your holiday been? When did you return?"

"I came back on Saturday morning," Minerva said as they approached the gargoyle. "But it wasn't bad. Very interesting, in some ways. I spent some time with Melina, and other members of my family, of course." Minerva couldn't keep a smile from her face, thinking of Malcolm and his new attachment to a particular Slytherin. "I've seen more of Malcolm. In fact, I've just come from him. He brought a new puppy for Hagrid, and he and Gertrude are down with him now."

"Did he? Well, that was very thoughtful of him. Was it Gertrude's idea? Had she asked him to procure it?" Albus asked.

"I don't know whose idea it was. It seemed it was his own. He and Hagrid have hit it off quite well. And you know Hagrid, he loves anyone who appreciates his creatures," Minerva said, trying to avoid mentioning Gertrude. She was afraid that if she said something, she was bound to give something away, and it was Gertrude's place to discuss her relationship with Malcolm. But Albus's interest seemed satisfied.

"Why don't you bring the applications by a little later today, and we can discuss them," he suggested. "Perhaps after lunch."

Minerva tried to hide her disappointment that he hadn't suggested meeting immediately, but he had just returned and likely had things he needed to take care of.

"I left them on your desk this morning," she said. "But we can discuss them – now, if you like."

Albus hesitated. "Not at the moment, my dear. I think perhaps I will read them over and look at your recommendations. If I have any questions, I will let you know when I see you at lunch."

"Oh. All right, then . . . well, I'll let you go. Professor Gamp simply thought you might like to know where we were, since we're the only ones in the castle and we were all out at Hagrid's."

Albus smiled and thanked her again for her work on the applications, then the gargoyle opened the stairs to him, and he disappeared. Minerva turned and went back down the corridor, but rather than taking the stairs back down and rejoining the others at Hagrid's cabin, she climbed up the five flights to her rooms. The Silent Knight bowed to her and opened the door as she uttered the password. He was becoming very efficient, Minerva thought distractedly.

Albus had initially seemed so pleased to see her. She would have said that he looked positively delighted, but then he had reverted to a reserved manner and scarcely told her anything of his holiday, nor of why he had returned early. Of course, her own excuse had been hardly any different from his, but still . . .

She sighed. If she were completely honest with herself, her disappointment stemmed entirely from the fact that he hadn't leapt at the opportunity to discuss the applications with her. And that was entirely unreasonable. There really wasn't very much to discuss, after all. Kettleburn and Hornby were clearly the best candidates for the position, and he would see that easily. And how utterly pathetic of her to be so desirous of his company that she would be that disappointed not to meet him to discuss some rather dull Hogwarts business. Perhaps she should have been more straightforward and simply suggested that they meet socially, simply to spend time together. But she wished that he had suggested it, himself.

She found a book and curled up on the couch, trying to read, but unable to focus very well even on the light novel she had selected. Minerva finally put the book down, her glasses with it, and Summoned her afghan from her bedroom. Lunch would be in about an hour . . . a nap until then seemed a good idea. She cast a cooling charm on the room, then put her afghan around her and said "Warm me."

She closed her eyes as the gentle warmth of Albus's charms surrounded her, and she drifted off to sleep.

Minerva woke abruptly to a barking coming from the landscape over her fireplace. She sighed. The cooling charm had dissipated as she'd slept, and she was too warm now. Pushing aside the afghan, she told Fidelio to rejoin his master, then, yawning, she sat up and opened the door.

"Malcolm." She blinked at him and he grinned at her as he entered the room.

"Ah, you needn't pretend you aren't thrilled to see me, little sister!" He closed the door behind him and made himself at home, settling into one of her armchairs.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day with Gertrude."

"I am, but Johannes has returned, unlooked for, to the castle, and Gertrude wanted to discuss something with him. She said she'd see me at lunch."

Minerva woke up at that. "Did she say what she was meeting with him about?"

Malcolm shook his head. "Assume it's something about the school." He looked at her closely. "Why? Is there something – are they involved? I mean, were they? I thought . . . that is . . . I hadn't considered him."

Minerva shrugged. "I don't think they were ever involved. And if it weren't for your current situation, I would never say anything to you or to anyone else. And if you repeat this to anyone, even to Gertrude, I will be quite displeased."

"I'd rather not have you telling me things about her or her colleagues that I cannot share with her," Malcolm said, more seriously than Minerva was used to seeing him treat such things.

"Well, you decide what you want to say or not say, then," Minerva said with a sigh. "But I understand that Johannes has carried a bit of a torch for Gertrude for some time. I think he's given up, more or less, but it could be she wants to forewarn him that you and she are, um, friends, at least. I don't even know if Gertrude has ever even acknowledged Johannes's feelings for her, and they remain good friends. Somehow, he has dealt with it. What did you mean that you hadn't considered him?" Minerva asked curiously.

"Just that . . . in the years since her husband died, I doubt she has not had an opportunity for romance, that's all. Not that I know. It's not exactly pillow talk. At least, I don't think it is, not at this point. I've never had a relationship like this before, though, so I'm not sure. But she hasn't asked me about my past, although I have been honest with her that she is very far from being the first woman I have been with, though she is the first one who has mattered. So I haven't asked about her past. And I think it would be far more personal for her to tell me about it than vice versa."

"Mmm." Minerva now wondered again whether Gertrude and Albus had ever been involved. And again, the thought caused her not a single pang of envy. She couldn't understand why, unless it had to do with the fact that Gertrude was very obviously not involved with Albus now. Albus must have decided she wasn't the right witch for him . . . perhaps that's when he became involved with Valerianna, and why he wouldn't listen to Gertrude. He believed that Gertrude wanted him back. That was not very charitable of him, after all the loyalty that Gertrude had shown him over the years, Minerva thought, particularly given the fact that Valerianna was so clearly inferior to Gertrude.

"So, up for a quick game of chess?" Malcolm offered, changing the subject.

"No, there's not enough time before lunch – even the way you play," Minerva said.

"We missed you when you didn't come back. We thought perhaps you were still with Dumbledore. I took a chance that you were here, though, rather than going back to Gertrude's rooms. It didn't seem quite . . . polite to hang about her rooms when she's not there."

"She seems very comfortable with you. She gave you her password, obviously. I doubt she would mind if you spent time there, as long as you didn't go through her wardrobe or her drawers or whatever," Minerva said with a smirk, imagining her brother up to his elbows in Gertrude's knickers.

Malcolm chuckled himself. "So, why did old Dumbledore come back to the school early? Some emergency he couldn't trust to anyone else?"

"No, I don't think so. I don't know why he returned early. It was none of my affair, and he didn't mention it," Minerva said stiffly.

"None of your affair?" Malcolm asked. "Peculiar way to put it. You've been friends for years. I'd think you'd just ask. I doubt it was anything nefarious he couldn't share with you," he said with a laugh. "And if it was, he could just make something up!"

"Really, Malcolm! His holiday was at an end. For all I know, he'll be leaving again soon. He left the wards with Gertrude. If he intends to resume his holiday, he'll tell her his plans, and you can ask her about them, if you are so curious."

"Not particularly." He shifted in his chair, then stretched. "So why are you back early? You never did say. I'd had the impression you were spending at least till some time next week at home."

"I just became restless. It was nice to see Mother and Dad, but I thought that I could still pop back and forth and see them without having to stay there. I want to get ready for the new school year. I have new responsibilities. I want to be prepared."

Malcolm nodded. "You seem to enjoy teaching."

"I do." Minerva smiled. "I really do. It's an odd pleasure to see a student suddenly grasp a new concept or have their first success with a spell, and I enjoy that."

"But being tied to the school . . . doesn't that become wearing? I would think that over the summer, you would want to spend most of your time away while you are able."

"I have only been teaching one term, so it hasn't become wearing yet, as you put it. And I am taking advantage of the break to do other things. I'm going into London to have dinner with a friend, in fact. Quin, actually."

Malcolm laughed at the mention of Quin's name. "Well, you can reassure him that it was not he whom I was interested in."

"I will. But I won't mention Gertrude."

Malcolm shrugged. "I imagine that he would deduce my interest in her fairly easily now that he knows I wasn't interested in him." He smiled again, amused at the thought of Quin's discomfort. "He is a good sort. Remained polite the whole time he was afraid I was going to make a move on him."

"As I said, I think that if you weren't my brother, he wouldn't have suffered your presence. He may have been polite to you, but he can be . . . not dangerous, but protective, I suppose."

"That is dangerous, little sister, or have you never seen a mother protecting her young? And I always saw him as a wizard I wouldn't want to cross. Not that I do think he would stand a chance against me, not unless we were reduced to fisticuffs, but nonetheless, it might be unpleasant."

"Well, don't cross him, Malcolm. He's a good friend, and I don't happen to want to worry about which of you might be in worse straits if you did."

Malcolm replied quite seriously, "If there is one thing I try to do in my life, it is to avoid causing suffering in others, man or beast. There is enough suffering in the world without my adding to it if I can help it. But that said, I will not hesitate to hit back if I have to, or even to kill. I am very unhappy if I am driven to that point, but . . . the life I have chosen also presents me with those consequences at times, and those choices. I doubt very much, however, that I will ever have any serious disagreement with your friend Quin. Unless, of course, he does something to you or to another of my own. I would not tolerate that well. From anyone."

"You have nothing to worry about, then," Minerva said lightly, not completely comfortable with the fierce look that had briefly entered her brother's eyes. "Come, we have seven flights to go down to lunch. We don't want to be late."

Lunch was a peculiar affair, Minerva thought, but she wondered whether she was the only one who found it so. Johannes chatted with everyone and seemed to be trying to be especially entertaining. She was pleased, though, to be sitting beside Albus. Malcolm and Gertrude were sitting at different ends of the table, and it seemed to Minerva that they were trying too hard to avoid looking at each other, and so every glance they did exchange seemed filled with tension. Albus was fairly quiet, as was usual at mealtime, but Malcolm managed to engage him in conversation about familial curses and whether they actually existed or were more like self-fulfilling prophecies than actual curses. Minerva was interested when Albus said that he had received a few applications for the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, but so far there had been no satisfactory applicants.

"What about the candidates from the previous search, Professor?" Minerva asked. "Professor Pretnick was only in the position for a year, after all. Perhaps one of them might still be interested. Have you considered contacting any of them?"

Albus's brow furrowed as he recollected the previous applicants. "A few of the current applicants had actually applied for the position the last time and were unsuitable for one reason or another. Of the others . . . no," Albus shook his head. "I believe there are none whom I would care to contact."

"What of Professor Hardwick, or even Professor Merrythought? I saw him in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago, and he looked quite hale and hearty," suggested Johannes. "Perhaps one of them would consider returning for the year, or even just for as long as it takes to find someone else."

"Professor Hardwick is ailing, so I do not believe he would be available, or well enough to teach, for that matter. And as for Merrythought . . . I suppose I could approach him with the idea. But he hasn't taught for over a decade. I believe he is enjoying his retirement."

Johannes grinned. "I would say so. He had a pretty young witch on his arm when I saw him. And it was not his granddaughter!" he said with a chuckle. "Yes, you might find him difficult to persuade, at that."

Gertrude said, "He did? Well, good for him. I used to try to encourage him to socialise some, but he was in such a cocoon here at the school, he'd become too comfortable to realise that there was any other life or any greater joy to be had other than instilling knowledge in young minds."

Malcolm laughed at that. "He was a fine teacher. One of my favourites, actually. He was a bit set in his ways with his teaching methods, but he was scrupulously dedicated. And not afraid to let us get banged up a bit – not badly, of course," Malcolm hastened to add. "But that is what Defence is about – learning not to get banged up. Still, it never would have occurred to me to picture him with a witch, young, old, or otherwise. He seemed a bit . . . ascetic, I suppose. Genial enough, of course, but not capable of any strong emotions. But good for him, as you say, Gertrude!"

Minerva carefully controlled her expression, but she was very interested in that bit of news. Merrythought had to be close to Albus's age, possibly older. He had seemed old when he had taught her. He wasn't as robust-looking as Albus, nor as generally attractive – in fact, the thought of him being involved with a young witch seemed somewhat incongruous. Nonetheless, he was with a witch young enough to be mistaken for his granddaughter, although apparently Johannes could recognise the nature of their relationship immediately. Of course, in that case, "young" could simply mean that she was half his age and twice Minerva's. Minerva sighed deeply and played with her custard.

Albus turned to her. "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked quietly.

Minerva turned to look at him, trying to smile, but when her eyes met his, she dropped her spoon and her breath caught. The warmth in his eyes literally took her breath away. Her brother Accio'd the spoon and cleaned it for her, but she scarcely noticed that.

Minerva swallowed. "I am fine."

"Would you like something other than custard?" he asked. "I am sure that the house-elves could be prevailed upon to bring you a plate of ginger newts." Albus smiled at her, eyes twinkling.

"No," Minerva answered, returning his infectious smile. "I'm fine. Just not in the mood for dessert, I suppose."

Albus widened his eyes in mock horror. "Not in the mood for dessert? How dreadful! I can't remember ever being so afflicted," he teased.

Minerva chuckled. "You would have dessert at every meal, I am sure, if you could."

"I do try to avoid over-indulging, however. I have recently been told that my consumption of fruits and vegetables is insufficient, and I have been trying to rectify that fault," he said, a little teasing grin playing on his face.

Minerva laughed again. "I cannot imagine who the brave soul was who would dare suggest such a thing!"

"Someone rather special to me, actually, or I would have paid the advice no heed, I am sure."

Minerva grinned. "I know! It must have been Poppy! I will have to inform her that you are following her advice."

Albus smiled and shook his head slightly. "Did she advise me of that? I scarcely remember."

Johannes spoke up at that moment. "Were you coming, Albus?"

Albus looked up. "Hmm?"

"You said you would like to see Hagrid's new boarhound pup. We're going down now. Gertrude and Malcolm are coming, as well."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course," Albus answered. As he stood, he turned back to Minerva, "I will see you later today, perhaps?"

Minerva nodded. She considered inviting herself along to see the puppy again, but she really didn't want to see Albus amidst all those people. She wanted him to herself. Besides, she was not particularly keen on seeing whether the interactions amongst Gertrude, Malcolm, and Johannes became more or less awkward once they had left the more structured setting of the dining table.

"I will be in my room this afternoon, although I do have some research I want to do in the library. I will be in one or the other place," Minerva answered.

Gertrude, who was standing in the doorway, waiting for Johannes and Albus, said, "You should get outside on such a beautiful day, Minerva. Come with us down to Hagrid's."

Minerva smiled at the older witch. "Thank you, Gertrude, but I had my walk this morning, and I thought I would do some work this afternoon. I may take a book outdoors later, though – but I won't be far, Albus."

"Do not plan your afternoon around me, my dear! I am sure that I will be able to find you should I need you."

Minerva went back up to her rooms feeling much better than she had. The conversation with Albus, as silly and inconsequential as it had been, had lifted her spirits. And every now and then, the way he would look at her or something he would say would go straight to her heart, and she would have hope again that he might be developing a greater affection for her.