Chapter 10
The mood throughout Hogwarts was typically quite celebratory on everyone’s final night. With the volume about the castle much louder than would ordinarily be tolerated by the teachers, who were more inclined to be lenient when they’d be putting everyone on the train first thing after breakfast. Exams were over, classes done, and the staff was looking forward to the holiday as much as most of the students were. Minerva more than she ever had before.
“Severus offered to replenish my stores, polish all the portraits on the walls, and organize every classroom if he could be allowed to stay here for the summer,” Slughorn sadly noted an exception, speaking to Minerva from the other side of Dumbledore’s vacant chair in the Great Hall. “Tried to persuade me that since he's fifteen and since he's never lost so much as a house point, that he could be trusted to stay here alone.”
Under the blue and bronze banners of Ravenclaw, who had won the House Cup, the Hogwarts residents were lingering at the tables long after the final course of their leaving feast had been cleared, enjoying the company of friends and relaxing in the knowledge that there was nothing required of them that night other than packing. Professor Dumbledore was moving around the hall, making a point to shake hands personally with each of their graduating seventh years. Minerva spotted him standing near the front of the Slytherin table speaking with Duncan Ashe, while a bit further up the bench, Severus Snape was slouched down so low between Mulciber and Rosier that he could easily have been missed.
“He knows that’s not an option,” Minerva sighed. She hated to think of anyone growing up in a situation that made them dread going home, but it was out of her hands just as much as Professor Slughorn’s. When she had been a child, she had always been guaranteed to have two loving parents waiting on the platform for her with open arms and that was no less than what any one of her students deserved. Though after eighteen years of teaching, she knew very well that that wasn't always the case.
Slughorn shrugged. “Yes, but I suppose he had to give it a shot.”
“Well at least his mother didn't write to ask about the possibility of summer school this time,” Minerva said, a note of bitterness creeping into her tone as she recalled the letter that Dumbledore had shared with her last year implying that the boy who’d been graded high in all of his classes wasn’t actually as smart as he appeared. The woman might as well have written to tell them that she hated her son, for Minerva would never understand how someone could have a child and then try to avoid them at all costs.
“Perhaps she thought she’d be doing him a favor,” Slughorn said quietly, safe from being overheard by the other staff members seated nearby, who were all talking loudly about their holiday plans as they passed around several bottles of The Three Broomsticks' famous oak matured mead. “Severus doesn't say much, but I think it's the father that's behind most of the issues in that house. I taught Eileen. She wasn’t a bad person.”
“I don’t really remember her,” Minerva replied, not that it mattered. “She’s a bit older than me. We probably passed in the corridors from time to time but I don’t think we ever spoke.”
“I thought she had potential,” Slughorn shrugged again. “Brains and from a good family. She could have done well, but instead one day she ran off to marry that muggle and was all but forgotten until her scrawny, blatantly neglected son came to school and took me for a shock.”
Minerva was spared from having to comment by Hagrid, who had gotten up from his chair at the other end of the table, the floor shaking with every step closer he took.. “Here yeh go,” he said, handing Minerva a glass bottle that the cork had already been removed from. “Better have some before this lot finishes it all.”
“Thank you,” Minerva smiled up at him. Hagrid grinned back and then returned to where he’d been chatting with Professors Flitwick and Kettleburn. Minerva poured a generous amount into her goblet before she turned to offer the bottle to Slughorn.
“I know you don’t agree with the way I run my house, Minerva,” Slughorn said, as he took the bottle from her and filled his goblet to the brim. “ But I tell you, the reason why some of these kids are sorted to me is because they've got the potential to be great under the right influence, even if they weren't born with it. I’m that right influence.”
Minerva took a small sip of her drink to delay replying, for she had never approved of Slughorn’s methods. While she strived to treat all her students fairly and believed they all could be successful if they put in enough hard work, Slughorn had a tendency to ignore a majority of them in favor of those who stood out to him for their wit, talent, or important connections. And he nearly always managed to eventually reap some sort of reward from them all.
“I think it’s wonderful to offer support to an intelligent boy that lacks care and encouragement from his parents, Horace,” Minerva said evenly. “You do that better than I do, I must admit, although I wonder if you overestimate your influence on your students when you take into account the other influences playing out right under your nose? My issue is when you overlook such red flags because you don’t want to get on the wrong side of powerful families, even if it turns out they're intending to side with He Who Must Not Be Named. We’ve already seen some students from Slytherin leave school to join the Death Eaters despite having close relationships with you. I just think you're trying to play both sides.”
“And I think that's unfair,” Slughorn protested, bringing the overfull goblet to his lips and sloshing it down his front. “I can’t be held responsible for what people choose to make of their lives once out of my care and I certainly don’t support the Death Eaters, although I take offense that you’re suggesting that my house is the only one that could produce them. I'll remind you that it was my idea to invite the Blacks to the castle so that Andromeda won't have to talk to them alone. Supporting her is certainly not going to help my popularity.”
“Well, perhaps they'll be so preoccupied with raging at Miss Black and Albus that they’ll scarcely notice you - us,” Minerva suggested. At Dumbledore’s request, she was also being made to attend tonight’s meeting to serve as an impartial witness for when things took their inevitable ugly turn. She'd been dreading it all day.
Slughorn nodded as he dabbed at his tie with his handkerchief. This appointment with Mr and Mrs Black was only happening at the last minute because it had taken that long for Andromeda to gather enough nerve to agree to it. She was of age, none of this needed to be regarded as as big of a deal as they were making it, but Minerva knew that these elite pureblood families played by different rules and that Andromeda getting pregnant by a muggle-born boy was probably the worst news they could ever imagine receiving.
Indeed, within approximately ten minutes of his arrival later that night, Cygnus Black was lashing out at Andromeda with so much vitriol, that one would have thought that she was the daughter who had disgraced them with acts of domestic terrorism and not Bellatrix.
“I’ve never been so ashamed in my life!” he roared, standing up so abruptly that his chair nearly tipped over. Droplets of spit shot out of his mouth revoltingly as he lunged at Andromeda, who calmly moved out of his reach like she was used to such outbursts. “You disgusting little slut - you shameful -’
“Come now,” Slughorn interrupted loudly, who'd been rocking nervously on the balls of his feet by the bookshelves in the headmaster’s circular study, but now moved to stand deliberately between his student and her father. “Cygnus, old friend, you don't mean that. It's not the end of the world. Nothing we can't all work together to figure -”
“Who is the boy responsible?” Druella Black asked icily.
Though she had not moved from her chair or lashed out like her husband, Minerva could see cold, blinding fury etched all across the woman's beautiful face. She was the perfect blend of all three of her daughters. Thick, curly hair with heavily lidded eyes like Bellatrix and Andromeda, but blonde and fair like Narcissa. Her nails were painted a sparkling silver and she wore an emerald choker around her throat that complemented her flowy green robes. Minerva would not have been surprised to learn that her dragon hide handbag and shoes cost more galleons than she earned in a year's salary but none of it made this nasty woman more pleasant to look at from across the desk.
“I’m not telling you that, mother,” Andromeda said firmly.
There would be no way to keep the baby's parentage a secret forever, though Minerva appreciated the chivalrousness of Andromeda wanting to try. Even if the increasing attentiveness that she’d noticed Ted Tonks showing Andromeda around the school in recent days was making it somewhat obvious. Perhaps it was just because Tonks sensed that Andromeda could use a friend right now - they had always been friendlier than the average Slytherin and Hufflepuff because Tonks was almost impossible to dislike. Yet the way that he’d taken to following her around lately had Minerva suspecting that he was more involved than Andromeda had any intention of admitting right now.
“Well that tells us all we need to know then, doesn't it?” Cygnus snarled at his daughter, who was mostly obscured from his view now by Slughorn’s bulky frame. “Have you just been whoring yourself around this castle? Is this the byproduct of some filthy mudblood?”
“I will ask you kindly to abstain from using such vulgar terms in my office, Mr Black,” Dumbledore cut in. He had contributed surprisingly little to the conversation so far, deferring to Professor Slughorn as Andromeda's head of house to do most of the facilitating while he and Minerva sat side by side behind his desk together. “Perhaps you could retake your seat so that we can continue this discussion in a civil manner.”
“And what do you know about ‘civil', Dumbledore?” Druella scoffed, turning back around in her chair to face him. “There's been nothing civil about this school since you started letting all these people from non-magic families take over. This school has been going downhill ever since they made you headmaster!”
“You dare -” Minerva started angrily, but Dumbeldore held up his right hand to stop her from continuing.
“Students running wild doing whatever they want with no appropriate supervision,” Cygnus chimed in angrily, but at least he had finally turned away from Andromeda. “No care given to our traditions or values! You incessantly disrespect the families that have built up this society that you’re trying to destroy. And now you’ve corrupted my daughter!”
All a bunch of codswallop, and Minerva literally bit down on her tongue to resist interrupting this attack of Dumbledore’s character to tell them how ridiculous they were being. However, Dumbledore was, as always, the picture of unlimited patience and humility, not breaking eye contact with the raging pair before him, while allowing them to get all their many complaints about how he ran this school off their chests. It was better than them attacking their daughter.
“Do you realize your life is over?” Druella snapped at Andromeda several minutes later. Andromeda was still standing next to Slughorn and she looked miserable. “What sort of future do you imagine you’ll have now? I'm seriously asking.”
“You’re just mad that you won’t be able to marry me off to Lucius Malfoy now,” Andromeda answered coldly. “And I never wanted to do that anyway. You never asked me. You just told me how it was going to be. My life, your way.”
This remark seemed to outrage her parents more than anything else and Andromeda was so poised in her delivery that Minerva suddenly wondered if this might not have been her plan all along. To cunningly avoid a life that she didn't want even if it meant setting herself up for a much more difficult road. Perhaps this pregnancy wasn’t as unintended as one would have initially believed.
“Our way,” Cygnus finally spoke, correcting her through gritted teeth. “The right way. Proper, well-bred children to carry on our pure-blood lines that grow more tainted every year because of little blood traitors like you.”
“That’s enough,” Dumbledore said quietly. “This is not productive. Professor McGonagall, might I ask you to escort Miss Black back to her dormitory? I am sure there is a more pleasant way that she would like to spend her final night at Hogwarts.”
“Of course,” said Minerva.
She was relieved to be getting out of there and Andromeda did not hesitate to follow. They walked out of Dumbledore’s office together, down the stair passage and out into the empty corridor. Andromeda said nothing, but kept pace with Minerva, twisting one of her curly dark locks of hair round and round her finger as she did. To bear witness to such an exchange had rattled Minerva deep down to her core. Nobody had ever spoken to her so cruelly, least of all her mother or father, and she was pretty sure that she wouldn't have been able to keep her composure like Andromeda was.
“You handled that extremely well,” Minerva said finally, breaking several long minutes of silence just as they reached the stone wall in the dungeons that concealed the passageway to the Slytherin common room. “And I hope you know that you didn’t deserve any of that. Nothing they just said to you is true.”
“Except the bit about not being allowed to come home tomorrow,” Andromeda replied in a clipped tone, curls still wrapped tightly around her finger. That had been what Mr Black had shouted when she'd turned away from him.
Minerva nodded her head once, searching for words of comfort or something else appropriate that she could say. She had taught Andromeda Black for seven years but they weren’t close. While Minerva had always behaved professionally, she had judged Andromeda for being from a family that was known for championing pureblood supremacy, that used their unearned wealth and privilege to keep others down, and had known sympathies with You Know Who. Being sorted into Slytherin had reinforced to Minerva that Andromeda represented everything that she abhorred. It was biased, and Minerva silently acknowledged that, while being confronted with exactly how wrong she had been.
“We’ll figure it all out,” she said finally. “I don’t think you wanted to go home tomorrow anyway and after what I just witnessed, I’m not sure that I could have allowed it.”
“They’re not usually like that,” Andromeda murmured apologetically. “They’ll cool down.”
“And then what?” asked Minerva. “Do you think they’ll settle down enough to welcome you home after a few days and help you raise this baby? I don’t think so.”
She could tell by the expression on Andromeda’s face that she didn’t believe it either and Minerva felt extremely sorry for her - but relieved at the same time. For if none of this had happened, Andromeda would have left Hogwarts tomorrow and been married into a life that she didn’t want. Into a cycle that would just continue to produce hate, discrimination, and potentially more soldiers for He Who Must Not Be Named.
“You’ve got a lot of supporters,” Minerva reminded her gently. “Loads of people who want to help. I think a baby is always a blessing and this one possibly even more than usual. You said it just a few minutes ago in Professor Dumbledore’s office - you didn’t want to get married to Lucius Malfoy or be forced to live your life your parents’ way. This baby represents an opportunity for you to do right by yourself and someone else that you haven’t met yet. I think your future is very bright.”
And as if she’d summoned him there in that moment just to reinforce her point, both witches were interrupted by the sound of someone coming towards them down the stairs. Ted Tonks, taking the stone steps two at a time in his urgency. His mousy brown hair was disheveled and he was slightly out of breath from running.
“What are you doing, Ted?” Andromeda sighed, but his appearance had caused her composure to slip slightly, and her eyes welled with sudden tears.
“I thought we’d agreed to meet in the Entrance Hall once you were done?” Tonks replied, panting and looking anxious. “Are you okay?”
“I'll be okay,” Andromeda whispered, though she did not sound convinced.
Minerva glanced between the two students who had sat in her classroom together for seven years and never gave her any indication until recently that they were any more than friends - and not even very close friends at that. They had kept things tightly under wraps and after mere minutes in Andromeda's parents’ company, it was easy to understand why. They had a lot to figure out together going forward and would need help to get there, but right now Minerva knew that the kindest thing she could do for them was leave them alone.
“I'll see you both tomorrow at breakfast,” she told them. “We'll figure out your next steps then, but you're not to worry. Am I clear?”
“Thank you, Professor,” Andromeda said softly, dabbing at her eyes with her thumb.
Minerva nodded. “You know, the stars tonight are really supposed to be something to see and walks around the lake are where a lot of people do their best thinking.”
Tonks smiled. He had neither confirmed nor denied his involvement but it wasn't necessary. He was as much a part of this as Andromeda was. “Yes, let's get some air.”
Minerva walked with them part way back the way they had come. It was nearly curfew and the corridors were all devoid of students. She was a bit worried that they'd run into Andromeda's parents, but they didn't see them and she supposed they were still up in Dumbledore’s office. She wasn't going to chance having to interact with them a second time that night though, so she headed for Gryffindor tower after leaving the pair in the Entrance Hall and figured she’d catch up with Dumbledore later.
“Bronte,” she spoke to the seamstress in the portrait guarding her office, and then slipped inside and directly over to the bookshelf that concealed the latch to access her private quarters.
Though not sure that she would be able to sleep anytime soon, Minerva instantly felt completely done with the day as she stepped inside her bedroom and hoped she wouldn't need to leave it again before morning. Withdrawing her wand from her sleeve, she pointed it into the barren fireplace and it ignited, filling the stone room with light and warmth. Then she slipped out of her light green robes and used her wand to perform a Banishing charm, sending them neatly into the wardrobe where they would hang until her return come September.
“There,” Minerva nodded in satisfaction. Another flick of her wand, and the wardrobe door shut itself tightly. She was feeling far too worn down to do more things by hand than she could help right now and was thankful to have had enough sense to do her packing before the feast.
Her carpet bag was set on the floor near the sofa with a lightning charm already cast on it so that she wouldn't be weighed down by all the books she was bringing with her. The rest of the space in her bag was taken up by the simple wardrobe staples that she lived in when not at Hogwarts. Mostly skirts, cotton blouses, and jumpers of muggle styles and flat black shoes to wear with them. Everything else she'd need was either housed year-round at her parents’ or already moved into Elphi's flat - which was beginning to feel like their flat. Minerva put more of her own touches on it with every visit and it was a much lovelier sight than her somewhat austere room in Gryffindor tower.
Even though she loved her private quarters and they had served her well all these years teaching. She still got a little thrill when she pulled the hidden latch in her bookcase and passed through the magical archway that rose up beautifully at her touch. Hogwarts had many secrets but this was the only one that belonged entirely to her. And as lonely as sleeping in this sparse bedroom had felt sometimes, she had also found it quite liberating.
Slipping off the rest of her clothing and walking on the cold stone floor in her bare feet to the bathroom, Minerva could hear sounds of thumping and laughter emanating through the ceiling. Sometimes the noise from her students could bother her and Minerva wasn't above going upstairs to break up parties or order stragglers into bed if she felt they were getting too out of hand. But that night, as she filled the tub with hot water and lavender scented salts, she didn’t mind much. She appreciated hearing her Gryffindors joyful and carefree just above her head. She knew that it was a privilege denied to many.
“Sirius, get back if you don’t want to get hit by it.”
“Just get on with it, James!”
Minerva rolled her eyes as she turned off the taps and immediately overheard an indication that her two biggest troublemakers appeared to be taking charge of the final night's festivities. That never boded well, but Minerva decided she was going to let it play out for a little while at least.
Climbing into her bath, she began removing the pins holding up her hair until it hung down past her shoulders. Then she leaned back and deliberately sunk down far enough so that her ears were submerged in the water and silence engulfed her. Closing her eyes, Minerva slowly breathed in the perfumey relaxing scent of lavender. Come tomorrow, her students would all be back with their families and she would get to savor sleeping through the night undisturbed, eating in different restaurants every evening, and enjoying trips to the countryside whenever Elphinstone could get away from the office.
It was sure to be a beautiful summer and exactly what she needed to resolve some of the unanswered questions she kept asking herself. For Minerva hadn’t been joking before when she’d told Elphi that she probably wouldn’t ever want to leave after some months spent entirely together. Her mind kept going back to Elphinstone’s offer to retire, marry her, move to Hogsmeade so that she could commute easily, and perhaps even have children of her own. All the things that Minerva had long ago decided she didn’t need or want, were suddenly up for consideration and she wasn't as confident about her decision to reject all the components of a traditional life anymore.
Or perhaps she was just becoming less afraid. Unable to not be affected by watching such stoic and soft bravery unfolding in someone she had never expected to amount to very much. Andromeda Black had lost her family, status, and security by going for the very things that Minerva had shied away from all her adult life. This girl from a wealthy, pureblood family, who had probably never needed to lift a finger for herself or anyone else, stood the very next day in the dreary Hog’s Head and found it in herself to smile appreciatively at the crusty old-barman, as if life as she'd known it hadn't ended forever the previous night.
“There'll be no noise, or laziness, or coming and going at all hours,” Minerva stood close by while she listened to Aberforth Dumbledore reading Tonks and Miss Black the riot act. “And this isn’t charity. You’ll work. I want every glass in this place washed until it shines. Same goes for the floor. And you’re out before the summer's end or I start charging a nightly rate.”
There was a collective murmur of “Yes, sirs” from Aberforth’s reluctant guests. Tonks was looking around the old bar curiously, but Minerva saw Andromeda visibly shudder and wouldn't have blamed her for having doubts about the quick arrangements Professor Dumbledore had made for her.
The Hog’s Head, was “not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog’s Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be earthy, though there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries'' (OOTP, Rowling). This was the space where the aristocratic girl from a sacred 28 family was to start off her new life, and it took all of Minerva's willpower not to speak up and offer an alternative to her own detriment.
“This is kind of you,” Minerva told Aberforth, once she had returned from escorting Ted and Andromeda upstairs.
Minerva had promised them that she would check in and encouraged them to reach out to her by owl if she could help in any way. Job opportunities, references, perhaps just as a listening ear. These were two students she was certain would be receiving confirmation of achieving top grades in all their NEWTS in the next few days. They shouldn't have any trouble securing employment and the other tools they'd need to build a life together - unless Andromeda's family tried to interfere.
“I didn’t really have a choice,” Aberforth scoffed. “Albus doesn’t ask, he tells you what to do, while acting like he’s asking - well you know that song and dance by now, don’t you, Minerva?”
Minerva didn't reply. She didn't think Aberforth was entirely incorrect, but her loyalties to Albus would prevent her from every saying that aloud.
“They won’t be any trouble,” she assured him. “They’re well-mannered, hardworking, discreet. Andromeda is taking potions to help with pregnancy sickness but she still gets tired sometimes. Go easy on her.”
“But you really want to say, go easy on Albus, am I right?” Aberforth’s smile flashed his yellow teeth as he held the front door open for her.
Minerva gave him one of her most displeased expressions, but didn't bother to reply to that question either, as she squeezed by him to disapparate in the Hogsmeade alleyway. She really had been speaking about her students just then for what it was worth.
“I thought I was going to have to wait until tonight to see you!” Minerva exclaimed, surprised at how relieved she felt to arrive in Elphinstone’s garden and find him sitting at a picnic table surrounded by his open briefcase and stacks of parchment weighed down by stones to prevent them blowing away. The dog at his feet barked at her once in lazy acknowledgement before lowering his head back down onto his paws.
“No, I'm working from home today,” Elphinstone smiled, opening his arms up invitingly for her to fall into - which she did at once. Dropping her bag on the grass and curling her legs up beside her on the bench as she settled into his lap - the way she most liked to be held by him.
“Everything alright?” He asked gently. “You look tired.”
“The last couple days have been hard,” Minerva admitted, leaning her head on his shoulder once she had kissed him hello. She searched for the right words while Elphinstone waited patiently for her to continue. Setting his quill down on the table so that she knew she had his fullest attention.
“I send my graduating students out into a world that feels like it's getting worse by the day and can only hope that I've given them enough tools to survive it. And then I send the younger ones home to their families and most I quite enjoy the break from, but others -” she swallowed. “You wonder if they'll have enough to eat everyday. If they'll get to hear one good thing about themselves. If they'll come back to school looking even more broken than they left it ....” she sighed. “Sometimes I feel so inadequate, but I can't fix everything for everyone. Nobody can.”
“That's right, nobody can,” Elphinstone consoled. “And yet, you probably have countless former students who haven't even spoken to you in years, who still remember something you taught them or said to them that made all the difference. And do you know that your name is brought up quite often around the Ministry by the younger employees? A lot of them say they wouldn't have survived such a demanding job if you hadn't pushed them to have discipline and give their all back at school. Quite a nice contrast to all the letters that the Minister is always having to contend with calling for Dumbledore’s termination.”
Minerva laughed at that. She could just imagine the types of people who would storm into the Minister of Magic’s office with enough arrogance to try and get a headmaster sacked for….maintaining that muggles and muggle-borns were humans also? Ridiculous.
Elphinstone kissed her cheek and then picked up his quill to resume working. Minerva leaned back against him, enjoying the sound of the quill scratching on parchment, the feel of sunshine on her face, and the warm breeze on her exposed neck. Thankful for a moment where she could just be still. With nothing asked of or needed from her. She was enough.