Chapter 6
“He's not here,” Armando Dippett announced abruptly, before Minerva had even crossed the threshold into the headmaster’s study.
The predecessor of Dumbledore, who had been at Hogwarts when Minerva was a student, peered down at her from his frame hung directly behind the large oak desk. Dippett wasn't the only eyes and ears upon Minerva right now either. The occupants of the other portraits that adorned the circular walls of the office were all currently shifting restlessly and muttering things at her and to one another. Minerva had rarely seen them this lively.
“Dumbledore’s out?” she asked in surprise, her hands tugging at the sleeve of her muggle style coat. She glanced around at the faces preserved in paint and memory, who normally elected to pretend to sleep when visitors came calling but seemed too rattled to feign anything at the moment. Minerva could understand how they felt.
“About time too,” Phineas Nigellus replied snidely.
“He's been cooped up with his head in that pensieve for weeks!” exclaimed Antonia Creaseworthy, motioning to the shallow dish of ornately carved stone and engravement.
“And most days he barely speaks a word," added Dilys Derwent.
Minerva looked over at the pensieve. A very rare magical artifact which was used to view memories and whose company Dumbledore apparently found far superior to hers these days. Or at least that was how it had felt when she’d returned from Nurmengard and barely exchanged more than a few details about the trip before Dumbledore had asked permission to pull the memory of her meeting with Gellert Grindelwald directly from her head instead.
“Are you here to take him out?” Niamh Fitzgerald asked hopefully, bringing Minerva back to the present while taking in the long red dress and matching belted coat that she wore. “You do look quite lovely, dear. You should encourage -”
But Minerva didn’t feel at all inclined to take advice from a collection of portraits that were all insisting on talking at her at once. Nor did she have any desire to engage in gossip about Dumbledore with anyone. Nobody needed to tell her that Dumbledore had been isolated and withdrawn lately. That was why she’d presumed he’d be stowed away in his office tonight, like he had been every night lately.
“Goodbye,” she said distractedly to the room at large, the skirt of her red satin gown trailing slightly behind her as she began to descend the winding stair that led to the corridor below.
The ugly stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster’s study did not speak or acknowledge her in any form when she passed it, though Minerva knew it was more than capable of doing so. She decided to go check for Dumbeldore in the staff room. The teachers and faculty who lived at the castle during term habitually gathered together for drinks there at the end of a long week, but Dumbledore hadn't been participating lately. Neither had Minerva for that matter.
Torn by grief of different factions, they'd been quite a pair lately. Dumbledore had taken to hiding himself away and Minerva went through the motions of each day about the school, her temper growing shorter with each passing minute until she could climb back into bed and pull the covers up over her head again. Giving herself full permission to be sad and dwell in that heartache. Mourning her first everlasting love while slowly building up the strength to accept that this was not how she wanted to live.
Henceforth, she’d taken sincere efforts tonight to get on with the rest of her life in the way she thought was designed for her. To say that she was nervous was an understatement, but the path she was always meant to take was obvious to her now. And she was finally ready for it - ready to be happy. It seemed like Dumbledore had made a similar pledge. When Minerva reached the floor where the staff room was located, she could hear his merry laughter all the way down the corridor.
“Professor Dumbledore, you have to be the only professor at this school who would find any of that funny!” Hagrid was saying, though Minerva could tell as she stepped into the room that he was trying hard not to laugh himself.
Hagrid was twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. Even seated at the round table next to Dumbledore, who was a fairly tall man himself, he dwarfed everyone around. He looked simply too big to be allowed but despite his size and the wild black hair and beard that covered most of his face, he was probably the gentlest and most soft-hearted person that Minerva knew.
“I shouldn’t find this at all amusing, but so long as nobody was hurt I have to say that I admire their creativity and determination to do things their way,” Dumbledore replied, a brandy in one hand with his cards fanned out in the other. He looked as though he didn’t have a care in the world, which was an impressive act when Minerva knew that he carried the whole world on his shoulders.
“Of course you would, Albus!” scolded Madam Pomfrey, who managed the hospital wing for the entire school. “You weren’t the one who needed to issue calming droughts to an entire potions class keeled over with unrelenting laughter.”
“The boys said they thought everyone could use some cheering up after the quiz I set them,” Slughorn shook his head. “They got a bit quiet though when I issued the four of them double detention.”
“Oh was that necessary?” Dumbledore smiled. “What they did was really quite clever.”
“They wiped out the hospital wing’s entire stock of Calming Droughts,” Slughorn replied. “Someone has to prepare all the ingredients needed to replace them and it’s not going to be me! Anyway, they intoxicated an entire classroom with vapors from an excessively strong laugh-inducing potion. If they had gotten it wrong, they might have poisoned us all.”
“Just catching the tail end of this conversation I’m quite sure that I don’t need to ask who you’re talking about,” Minerva interrupted, and everyone turned to look at her at once.
Hagrid stuck two of his fingers into his mouth and let out a wolf whistle that ringed in Minerva’s ears and made her blush. She was self conscious of giving everyone a glimpse of her dressed up in her muggle best, but she certainly hadn’t expected to have to hunt for Dumbledore all around the castle. Of course he would choose tonight to socialize for the first time in over a month.
“Oh you look beautiful! What a gorgeous dress,” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.
“Thank you, Poppy,” Minerva said primly.
It had taken her all of five minutes to get ready and the dress wasn’t even new, but had hung in her closet for well over ten years. It was her go to for evening events in the muggle world that required a person to dress up and yet she silently appreciated the suggestion that she looked nice. If there was any occasion where she cared about how she looked it would have to be now.
“Are you going somewhere?” Dumbledore asked blankly.
“Well, she wouldn’t dress up like that just to play bridge with you, Albus!” Slughorn laughed.
“Don’t you remember that I asked you to keep an eye on the Gryffindors while I’m out?” Minerva shot him a look of annoyance. "It's a good thing I decided to check in with you before leaving.”
Dumbledore blinked a couple of times before apparently coming to full alert.
“Oh that’s right,” he said, comprehension dawning on his wise old face. “You’re going to see a performance of Shakespeare. You told me yesterday at dinner. I do remember.”
Diverting his gaze, Dumbledore’s slender hands began to gather up all the discarded cards on the table. Minerva knew that he'd been preoccupied lately, even mildly impatient over anything that kept him away from his office for too long. Yet all the same, she wasn't accustomed to being tuned out by Dumbledore like she clearly had been. He usually had a gift for making whoever he spoke to at any given moment feel as though they were the most important person in the world to him.
“Shakespeare?” Hagrid asked curiously, breaking the silence.
“A very famous muggle playwright,” Minerva explained, looking away from Dumbledore finally.
It was hard for her to imagine there being any speakers of the English language not familiar with William Shakespeare, but it only served to highlight the stark separation between the wizarding and muggle worlds. For witches and wizards who grew up not like Minerva, who had always been integrated into both simultaneously, they missed out on so much in terms of the arts. Literature, drama, music - pureblood fanaticism limited so many people to the beauty that existed all around them.
“I read some Shakespeare one summer in my twenties,” Dumbledore told Hagrid, as he dealt cards to everyone sitting around the table. “Enough of them anyway to appreciate the humble magic that can exist in the written word and in drama. It really is marvelous."
And often, Minerva considered muggle works to be more magical than those created by witches and wizards. They required more imagination. They knew less for certain, and so could create more. Without magic to depend on for simple fixes, muggle minds were often more inventive and more calculating.
Minerva saw this in her father - one of the most intelligent people she knew. Robert McGonagall had always made a point to take his family into London to soak up as much culture as they could and Minerva loved him for this. As an adult, she had carried on this tradition with even more regularity. She devoured books written by muggles, loved the cinema and the theater, and spent much of her summer holidays enjoying museum exhibits both in Britain and sometimes abroad.
“I’m sorry, Minerva,” Dumbledore bowed his head apologetically. “I guess I have been distracted lately. Or perhaps I’m just getting old.”
“Don’t talk to me about getting old, Albus,” Slughorn waved his finger reproachfully from across the table. “Five more years maximum and then I retire! But you keep trying to convince me to go another twenty.”
“Because I simply don’t know what Hogwarts would do without you, Horace,” Dumbledore replied, looking up at him as a small smile played across his lips.
He snapped his fingers suddenly and all the glasses of brandy on the table were refilled. Then he turned back to Minerva who was watching him with her eyebrows raised questioningly.
"Do you have time for a drink with us before you go?" he asked politely.
"No, I don’t," Minerva answered curtly.
They stared at one another for one brief second. Despite taking three meals a day side by side and living under the same roof, they hadn't really spoken lately. At least not about anything substantive.
“I’ll do your rounds,” Dumbledore promised, reaching over to squeeze her elbow affectionately. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Well then I guess I’ll let you off this time,” Minerva said sharply.
“You mean you forgive me?” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled.
“For clearly not listening to a word I said yesterday? Sure,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m going to floo from your office to London, is that alright?”
"Yes, of course," Dumbledore nodded, rising from his chair with his hand still clutching her elbow.
“Have a goodnight Minerva!” Madam Pomfrey said, and it was clear from the jovial looks on her friends' faces as they all bade her farewell that they were as happy to see her dressed up for an event as she was to see Albus somewhere that wasn’t his office.
"I'll be back in a minute," he told the others at the table, steering Minerva out into the corridor.
“You're looking much better,” Minerva commented, once they were alone with the staff room door shut behind them. “I like to see you out and about.”
“And you,” Dumbledore replied, surveying her carefully. “I'm so proud of you. I expect Dougal would be too."
He didn't hesitate to go there but Minerva could handle it. She shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to talk about Dougal but unable to pretend that she rarely did anything anymore without considering what he'd think of it. Her heart was permanently fractured, but she didn't want to do his memory a disservice by allowing it to keep her from living the fullest of life now. She felt healed in some ways. Like death had forced the chapter closed, Minerva hadn't been able to turn the page on herself. Now with no choice in how it had ended, it was at last time to move on.
“I'm just trying to get through a day without crying,” she admitted.
Dumbledore released her elbow and stuffed both his hands into the deep pockets of his midnight blue robes. “Well you'd never know it.”
And it was true. Because Minerva was a strong woman who persevered no matter what she was going through. She could cry behind closed doors and often struggle to get out of bed in the morning, but still always find a way to pull herself together anyway. Fiercely determined to keep her head held high under any circumstances. Intent on holding tightly to her composure and faith when she recognized that there were always so many other things more important than her feelings.
“I could say the same thing about you,” Minerva remarked. “We're quite a pair, aren't we?”
“And you're the better half of it,” Dumbledore said matter-of-factly.
His bright blue eyes always gave Minerva the impression that he could see right through her. That there was no point in putting on airs or pretending to be anything more than the truth. And she decided to take advantage of being alone with him for the first time in many weeks. It was always as if he'd been deliberately avoiding this conversation by not even asking for her opinion, but instead garnering his own conclusions by simply taking the memory directly from her head.
“I felt very sorry for him - Grindelwald,” she said honestly, her first opportunity to confess this to another person. "I tried not to."
But it would be impossible to encounter a lonely soul shut away from the entire world forever and not feel something for it. Not after being brought up in a church and by a father who stressed forgiveness and God's eternal love for all sinners. Not when she had sensed the remorse Dumbledore had wanted so fervently to believe in. It would never be enough to free a man responsible for such atrocities but it was enough to recognize him as human. For that part of him, Minerva was filled with an odd sort of compassion that probably wasn't going to go anywhere.
“I could tell you had sympathy,” said Dumbledore. “So could he. You did so well in that interview, Minerva. The mutual respect I sensed between the two of you is something that nobody else could have achieved. It's been very helpful. So useful.”
"I think it helped me too," Minerva confessed quietly. "I left there feeling determined to change my life. To grieve my heart out and then set it aside. I'm not the one in prison. I need to stop acting like I am."
Her visit to Nurmengard had been enlightening in more ways than one. To see what it meant to be locked away from love and all hope. It was what she had been doing to herself for far too long. Punishing herself for breaking a heart that she never had wanted to break. Depriving her of the person that she accepted now had always been made for her. And who had never faltered despite all the reasons she’d given him to do exactly that.
"Nobody deserves happiness more than you do," Dumbledore said, as what could only be described as a triumphant glint briefly appeared in his eye. "Except perhaps for Elphi."
He smiled knowingly as he turned to go back into the staff room and Minerva’s heart began to pump rather more quickly than before as she made her way back the way she had come.
She wholeheartedly agreed with Dumbledore that Elphinstone deserved all the happiness in the world. That her mere presence in his life could somehow grant him that, or so he claimed, still astounded her though she'd reached a point where she was now in a position to give him her all. And it was time for Minerva to choose him. The best choice she could have ever made. And now it was only a question as to whether Elphinstone would still have her, but his assurances gave her little doubt that he would. How could she have ever deserved such a man? It would probably take her the rest of her life to figure that out.
“Chocolate Frogs,” Minerva spoke the password, and the gargoyle stepped aside again to allow her to climb the moving staircase that she had only just descended.
This time Minerva did not even glance up at the portraits who all started firing questions at her once again. She walked right past the pensieve without even glancing into its depths for a hint of what Dumbledore had been preoccupying himself with lately. Surely there were only so many times that he could review the singular memory she'd given but that wasn’t what was important to her right now.
Sticking her fingers into the green stained glass jar on the mantel, Minerva grabbed a small handful of glittery powder and tossed it into the flames which immediately turned an emerald green and rose to heights almost as tall as she was.
“Room 7142, Ministry of Magic,” Minerva spoke clearly as she stepped into the flames that felt as pleasing to her as getting into a warm bath.
She kept her eyes closed, her mouth shut, and her elbows tucked in as she was immediately whisked away. Floo powder would never be her favourite form of travel but it was sometimes the most convenient. She hadn’t wanted to trek out in the snow to the apparition point beyond the Hogwarts grounds. While the journey felt endless, she knew it hadn't been more than a couple of seconds before she was tossed unceremoniously out of the fireplace inside Elphinstone Urquart’s large office.
The space had remained very unchanged in the years since she’d worked there. With large windows that were enchanted to always display sunshine and blue skies even though it was night. A comfortable couch to showcase the open door policy Elphinstone had with his employees and numerous bookcases and filing cabinets that were typically kept in fine order. Minerva had forgotten how Elphi liked to have classical music playing in the background while he worked.
“There you are!” Elphinstone smiled brightly, rising from the chair behind his desk along with the young red haired man who sat across from him.
“Sorry to just barge in on your meeting!” Minerva apologized, using her wand to remove the ashes and soot from her clothes. “I thought you'd have already finished up for the night.”
“We should have been,” Elphinstone replied, coming around the desk and placing an apologetic hand on the red haired man’s shoulder. “I should have had Arthur home hours ago!”
Though it was common now for Elphinstone to work late, he usually tried his best to get his staff home at a reasonable time. With the state the country was in right now that wasn't always possible, but Elphinstone had always been good about recognizing the lives his employees had outside of work.
"Don't be like me!" he used to joke with Minerva, trying to encourage her to get out from behind her desk to socialize with the other young people at the Ministry. Not realizing that was a pointless mission when she was throwing herself into case files simply to distract herself from the temptation to run back to Dougal and give up magic for love.
"I married this job and simply forgot to settle down," he would laugh.
"It's not too late," Minerva had often teased him.
As a very young woman it had never occurred to her that Elphinstone could ever become more to her than a fatherly mentor whom she loved dearly and respected as a wise guiding light. He had been, in many ways, like a stand-in for Professor Dumbledore, who had gone above and beyond to teach her during her student years and who Minerva had missed severely when it was time to move on.
After returning to Hogwarts, it had been a slow transition for Dumbledore to go from past teacher to friend in Minerva's mind. It had taken her an embarrassingly long time to feel comfortable calling him 'Albus' instead of 'Professor' and things hadn't been all that different between herself and Elphinstone.
Though their relationship had always been playful and their conversations engaging and of equals from the start, it had been a long process for Minerva to regard him as a man she not only admired but was also attracted to. Her loyalty to Dougal had always clouded so much of what Minerva was willing to do, but she also thought entering her forties had begun the change of heart. At her age now, she no longer felt like a little girl when set next to this much older man and that had begun opening her mind to the potential of what could be if she’d someday be ready.
“How are you, Professor?” Arthur Weasley smiled, and Minerva smiled back at her former student.
Aside from Elphinstone being a wonderful boss, Minerva remembered that Arthur had always been quite flexible and at ease with wherever he was. He’d been a friendly and enthusiastic student who had been universally liked by everyone aside from the pure-blood fanatics who'd labeled him a blood traitor for his fondness for muggles and refusal to dismiss anyone for their lack of magical parentage. Minerva had been exceedingly fond of both him and Molly Prewett, who had married immediately upon graduation to the surprise of nobody who had seen them together at Hogwarts.
“I’m fine,” Minerva replied. “How’s Molly doing? And the baby?”
“Everyone’s doing well,” Arthur said cheerfully. “Bill started walking recently so now there’s never a moment’s peace. Showing lots of signs of magic too - there’s no point putting anything on a high shelf you don’t want him to have, everything seems to wind up floating down into his grubby little fists.”
The joy radiating through Arthur was evident and it made Minerva smile. Gentle and kind, she imagined he'd be a wonderful father and she was pleased that Elphinstone had recruited him for his own department. People like Arthur, and Elphinstone, were exactly what the Ministry needed.
“It’s so nice to hear some good news for a change,” Minerva said. “To have something to celebrate and distract from all of the headlines.”
“Absolutely,” Elphinstone agreed. “And what we were just talking about when you came in was all the things that don't even make it into the papers because they’re not news grabby enough - like muggle baiting for instance. Not every abusive act on muggles ends in death. Many satisfy themselves with different forms of trickery and bullying.”
“Is the Ministry doing anything about it?” Minerva asked.
“Well, I’ve just opened a sub-department for the misuse of muggle artifacts to operate under me,” Elphinstone replied. “Arthur’s going to manage it.”
“Congratulations!” Minerva told Arthur, knowing that heading his own department, even a small one, was a huge accomplishment at twenty-four. And with a young family to support it made Minerva all the more happy for him. There was nobody more deserving.
“We went out to lunch to celebrate this afternoon and have been laying out the groundwork all day,” Elphinstone said with a fond smile at Arthur. “But now I think we both need to pledge not to step foot back into the Ministry until Monday. I’ve kept you from your family long enough and I know better than to keep this woman waiting.”
Minerva bit back a small smile as Arthur walked over to the coat hook and slipped on his cloak. "It feels good to be doing something to make a difference right now, so I can’t say I mind too much," he replied easily. "Have a good night, both of you. It was really nice to see you again, Professor."
She would always be Professor McGonagall to many of the students who went through Hogwarts, no matter how many years passed. It still sometimes was odd to watch the children she’d taught grow up to have children who she eventually would also teach. Probably just about as strange as they felt realizing that she didn’t just exist at the school - Hogwarts professors were so good at pretending that they did. Even if the life that she lived outside of her job still often seemed very small - it was something she resolved to work on. And inviting Elphinstone out tonight was part of that.
"Tell Molly that I say hello," Minerva called, before Arthur stepped into the fire she'd just vacated with a directive to 'The Burrow' which was the farmhouse the Weasleys had bought shortly after getting married.
"You look beautiful," Elphinstone told her, as Minerva stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek the moment they were alone. It pleased her that he thought so.
"I’d ask how you’ve been but I think your office speaks for itself," she said, taking hold of Elphinstone’s hand while she looked around at the open filing cabinet drawers and surfaces strewn with papers.
"Let me just get organized before we go or I’ll be stressing about the state of my desk all night," Elphinstone replied, giving her hand a quick squeeze before pulling back.
Without even thinking about it, Minerva's grip tightened to keep him there. His hand captured in hers. Their eyes met and he smiled at her a bit perplexed.
"I’ve missed you," she explained. They hadn't seen one another since they'd said goodbye at her parents' house in Caithness. They'd both been busy and the time spent apart had been necessary for Minerva to sort out her thoughts. She hadn't wanted to see him again until she'd made a decision.
"I’ve missed you too," Elphinstone replied, stepping closer and opening his arms for her to fall into.
Minerva sighed contentedly as she leaned her head against his shoulder. It felt so good to be near and wanted by another person. Recalling the way Grindelwald’s breath had shuddered when her fingers had briefly touched his hand, was anguish. She wasn't sure that anyone deserved to be denied all human contact.
"How are you?" Elphinstone whispered into her hair. "For real?"
"I'm fine," Minerva answered quickly, kissing the collar of his robes because it was the spot she had closest access to.
"You're sure?" Elphinstone asked.
"Yes," Minerva nodded against his shoulder, calling upon all the Gryffindor courage that she possessed before she lost her nerve and failed to say what she needed to say.
"I love you," she got out, her words mildly muffled against Elphinstone's shoulder made her worry he hadn't heard them. Lifting her head, she looked up at him and made sure to have his eye.
"I need you to know that. It's never been about me not loving you enough. It’s always been about everything that’s wrong with me."
"I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you," Elphinstone said calmly.
Minerva scoffed. Gellert Grindelwald had touched very close to the truth when he spoke about how the Statute of Secrecy had gotten in the way of her happiness. It had interfered with her fantasy. And she realized now that nobody's life turned out the way they imagined it at eighteen.
"I think that you’ve been through a lot recently and you’re probably still in shock," Elphinstone said quietly. "You’re grieving and you’re scared to lose anyone else so you’re telling me what you think I want to hear when you have absolutely nothing to worry about."
Minerva shook her head. "That’s not what I’m doing."
"Okay," Elphinstone said calmly. "What would you like me to say then?"
"Nothing at all," Minerva replied. "I’m apologizing."
"But there is nothing you have to apologize for," Elphinstone said sadly. "Minerva, please don't worry. I'm going to change into my muggle suit and then I'll tidy up and we can go."
That didn't leave Minerva very reassured though she could hardly complain when she considered the patience Elphinstone had treated her with over the years. She perched herself up on the windowsill against the misleading backdrop of midday sunlight to wait for him.
"Are you sure we're okay?" She asked doubtfully, as soon as Elphinstone walked back into the room dressed impeccably like a muggle gentleman.
"Of course we are," he replied, beckoning her over with a wave of his hand. "Come here. There's something I want you to see."
"What is it?" Minerva frowned, sliding off of the windowsill and moving to join him by his desk.
“I've already broken the Ministry's secrecy laws by passing all of this onto Albus when we've been meeting every few days, so I don't feel guilty showing you," Elphinstone said vaguely, wrapping an arm around her waist and shuffling through some papers with his free hand.
“You’ve been meeting with Albus every few days?” Minerva asked. She found it mildly annoying that Dumbledore had never bothered to share any of this with her.
“Albus and I have been meeting so that I can give him the names and information on the suspicious activity that I receive,” Elphinstone said calmly. “I wonder what you think of this one?”
He held out a photograph of a young wizard with long platinum blonde hair and a contemptuous expression. Apparently unaware that his photograph had been taken with a muggle camera.
"That's Lucius Malfoy," Minerva said, taking hold of the snapshot with both hands.
She recognized the background immediately as one of the side streets in Caithness. Though Lucius had been wearing a hood, it had slipped down far enough to give the photographer time to capture this image.
"When was this taken?" she asked darkly.
“This was taken by a Mrs Karen Smith through her bedroom window before the attacks began,” Elphinstone explained. “She found the oddly dressed man at the time to look threatening. She handed it over to muggle authorities after the attacks.”
“Lucius Malfoy is a death eater?” Minerva asked in aghast.
A recent graduate of Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy came from a wealthy upper-class family that was well known for the importance they placed on being pure blood. Their beliefs were closely aligned with Lord Voldemort’s regime, yet at the same time Minerva had always known Lucius as a model student, prefect, and natural born leader who would regularly offer out a hand of friendship and protection to any young Slytherins struggling to find their way.
“Well it’s the age-old question,” Elphinstone replied, sitting down in his chair and sliding his arm out from around her waist. “Who is operating under the Imperius Curse and who of their own omission? There’s a very good chance that he’s perfectly innocent.”
At Minerva’s derisive sniff, Elphinstone squeezed the arms of his chair tightly and elaborated. “I just mean that Lucius is in and out of the Ministry quite frequently because his family has given some generous donations for programs they want implemented. So that would make him a very good candidate to bewitch if that side is trying to get information on the Ministry. And then there’s this -”
Elphinstone moved some more papers and pulled out another clipping from the Daily Prophet. The social pages weren't ones that Minerva usually read, and perhaps it was just as well because the engagement announcement of Lucius Malfoy and Andromeda Black made her repulsed on principle.
“Andromeda Black hasn’t even left Hogwarts yet,” Minerva exclaimed bitterly. “Her parents are already arranging her marriage?”
“Not uncommon in those circles,” Elphinstone replied. “Andromeda’s older sister, Bellatrix, married Rodolphus Lestrange immediately upon graduation and they’ve been confirmed as Death Eaters - both at large. If Lucius has had any contact with them then he might be operating under the Imperius Curse.”
“Or they might have convinced him to come along,” Minerva said less optimistically.
As a student she had found Lucius to be haughty and arrogant, giving off airs that he considered himself to know more than her but was wise enough not to say it. He probably would think he could join the Death Eaters and outsmart everyone well enough to never get caught.
“Has he been questioned?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Elphinstone shook his head. “That is why he is one of the suspects I am most eager to pass along to Dumbledore. The Ministry would not want to insult Lucius by doing something as direct as bringing him in for questioning. Technically there is no evidence that that polaroid was taken on any particular day. The Malfoy family apparently has a summer residence not far from Caithness, but I don’t think him strolling down that street was a coincidence.”
“I’ll second that,” Minerva said, dropping the repulsing photograph of the arrogant young man back down on the desk. “This system is broken and it makes me so angry. I’m glad Dumbledore is trying to put a team together of the right people to actually accomplish something”
“It angers me too,” Elphinstone replied. “I want every person involved with those attacks to be brought to justice. The aurors haven’t caught anyone yet - I was speaking with Alice Longbottom about the investigation only this morning.”
“That’s because they’re all under You Know Who’s protection,” said Minerva.
Elphinstone murmured a note of agreement. It was difficult to acknowledge how unlikely it was that any of the Death Eaters who had murdered Dougal McGregor and his family would ever see a cell in Azkaban, but Minerva needed to be realistic. Her desperation to work for the Order of the Phoenix, Gellert Grindelwald’s assurances that there would be a downfall eventually - all of it was important. It kept Minerva going.
"We'll see what Albus says in the morning," Elphinstone said, reaching for one of her hands. "I don't think it's completely hopeless."
"Someone told me recently that nothing lasts forever," Minerva recalled Gellert Grindelwald’s words. "Even someone like You Know Who fears the day that someone he oppressed will strike back."
"Nothing lasts forever?" Elphinstone asked curiously. "Not even love?"
"Well maybe it evolves," Minerva replied after a moment’s thought. "Circumstances might change it, but I don't think love ever ceases to exist. Perhaps love is the exception?"
"And there lies its power," Elphinstone intoned quietly.
"I love you," Minerva said again.
"I love you too," Elphinstone replied, tugging on her hand. "Come here."
He pulled down onto his lap and Minerva instantly delighted in being held by his strong arms. Leaning back against his chest, she sighed in relief. How she had been yearning for this closeness, how she knew that Elphinstone could tell.
She was highly aware of how every part of her body felt against his. The way her legs pressed against his, her feet not touching the floor. The way his chest moved up and down with each breath that he took. And they had finally reached the point where their mutual love had evolved to bring them closer than they'd ever been before. This was vulnerability and she was craving it.
“You’re far too good to me,” Minerva said, closing her eyes contentedly.
“Now where did you ever get a funny idea like that?” Elphinstone asked.
“You slept in my brothers’ old bedroom for three nights just to be close to me,” Minerva said matter-of-factly. Her voice quickened as she hastened to add. “I loved getting to see you in the mornings…breakfasts with you have become my favourite thing. I hate thinking about how many breakfasts with you I’ve missed…”
Elphinstone gently ran a finger down her cheek. “Well if that’s the case then I'll just have to try and visit Scotland more. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” she nodded, opening her eyes to find his hand and bring it to her lips. Slowly she kissed each individual finger of his one by one. Then traced her mouth across his lined and aging knuckles.
"I'm not worried you'll leave me," she said, bringing his hand up to rub against her face, while she tilted her head back to look up at him. "I worry that I won't be able to give you all that you deserve, but I want to try."
“Don’t worry,” Elphinstone said simply.
“Okay,” Minerva said trustingly.
With both her hands now, she reached up to caress Elphinstone’s face and stroke the short, grizzled beard. Taking her time. Admiring him and thanking the heavens for him, before leaning closer to kiss his lips with all the purest intentions of her heart. When he began to kiss her back, Minerva wrapped her arms around his neck and moved even closer. They had never been this close before.
“If you change your mind at any time I won't be upset,” Elphinstone said, his beard tickling her as his lips moved against her cheek.
“I won’t.” Minerva promised.
She was confident. Full of desire and need for what they had and what it could become. Even if there were parts of her that resisted the notion that she deserved to be happy, she was resigned to silence them every single day for the rest of her life if it was necessary.
As she kissed Elphinstone again, she forgot about any intentions to go see Shakespeare or even leave this office where their journey had first begun. The file on Lucius Malfoy lay abandoned on the desk. Minerva’s mind became nice and blank in the absence of all the other thoughts that ordinarily swarmed it. Because right now all that mattered was who she was sharing this moment with. Exactly as intended.