Chapter 11
A/N I never intended for this chapter to take so long to be written. It was constantly in the background of my daydreams but I had serious writer's block. Thank you to anyone who reads it. I still have a lot planned for Minerva's story.
XXXXXXXX
Their first summer together insisted on progressing far more quickly than Minerva would have liked, and that was just about the only negative thing that she could say about it. Every other reflection she had about their time spent cohabitating like a husband and wife could be simply summarized into her recognition that she was now his and he was hers. Simply put, they fit together in a way that Minerva had never experienced in love before. There were no impossible hurdles to overcome or immense sacrifices to be required. Everything was easy with Elphinstone and he asked for nothing she didn't desire to give.
The peace he provided was what Minerva appreciated the most about him. Secondary would have to have been his honesty and forthcomingness. And Minerva realized that she hadn’t been ready for him until now, but she had no regrets about her caution and initial reluctance anymore. If they'd moved their relationship beyond Elphinstone being her former boss and friend sooner, it probably wouldn't have lasted. She had been too young and too wounded to allow anything healthy to bloom in her then. Her years of solitude, chastity, and mourning of what could never be had been essential in shaping her into the strong and independent woman that she was so proud to be.
“You'll be home earlier tonight, I expect?” she asked, squeezing Elphinstone's hand as the two of them walked with his dog, Shadow, in the direction of the Ministry of Magic.
Elphinstone was extremely busy at the office and seldom made it home before nightfall. Even weekends hadn't been protected, and a few times they had needed to cut a Sunday on the lake after church with Minerva's family short so that he could return to the Ministry. There was no such thing as a work and life balance during a war and to compensate for these demands, Minerva liked walking with him in the mornings and meeting for quick lunches a few times a week so that she still got to see him every day. She arranged her schedule around his and felt dread rise up within her whenever she thought about leaving him in September.
Elphinstone still teased about resigning from his job and following her back to Scotland, but it was an unthinkable proposition at the moment. The Death Eater attack on the Ministry itself had destroyed what little faith people still had in their government’s ability to protect them against You Know Who. Someone as decent, wise, and insightful of a leader as Elphinstone could not possibly consider passing the torch with everyone so divided on who to trust and how to proceed. There was no question that he was exactly where he could best serve and everything had to come second to that.
“Yes, I should be earlier,” Elphinstone affirmed. “Minchum is very determined that we take a break. He wants us to relax, socialize with one another, and figure out how to be a united front so that people will believe their Ministry is stronger than it actually is. Nevermind that half those who will be in attendance are plotting to give him the sack - should make for an interesting night.”
He smiled. It was like he had read her thoughts and the pair shared a meaningful look while they waited their turn to cross at the intersection. They would be attending a dinner party together that night, hosted by Minister Minchum, for high ranking Ministry members and their partners. It was the sort of political event that Minerva had generally disliked during her brief time in law. She had no patience for phoniness or false friends defaming you to your superiors to push ahead their own ambitions, and she knew that the bureaucracy had people like that in abundance.
“It means a lot that you agreed to come along,” Elphinstone said sincerely, once they’d turned onto Whitehall and halted in front of two stairways labeled Gentlemen and Ladies that led to the underground toilets where the official entrance of the Ministry was located. It would have been more convenient for Elphinstone to apparate directly to and from work, but their morning walks together had become an important ritual. “I know it’s a chore, but there will be some familiar faces there. The Prewetts -’
“I’m looking forward to it,” Minerva insisted. “The Prewetts are always good fun and to be honest, I think it the perfect opportunity to publicly establish our relationship - which I’m eager to do.”
“Me too,” Elphinstone's smile grew. Their relationship had never been secret, but it also hadn’t been officially decreed either, outside of close family and friends. Minerva considered attending socials alongside the other Ministry wives to be a significant step forward. You didn’t do that for someone you were casually dating and though they weren’t married, the idea no longer made her feel uncomfortable like it had before. She just couldn’t see the point in it when their careers would persistently separate them, and she was far too practical to rush into anything either.
“Also,” she smirked, as a more malevolent thought came to her. “I have to admit that I’m very curious to finally get a look at that Umbridge woman you dislike so much. Considering you never speak badly of anyone, she really must be terrible to have turned you off so strongly.”
“Well, I intend to sit us as far away from her tonight as I can manage,” Elphinstone said, as he handed her over Shadow’s leash. Tapping Minerva on the nose affectionately, he added, “I’m not sure I can trust you to bite your tongue entirely after all the stories I’ve told you that you’re not supposed to know.”
Minerva laughed as she perched on her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. Hardly a day had passed that summer without Elphinstone returning from work with complaints about one, Dolores Umbridge. An accomplished witch, she’d become Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office the previous year and made no attempts to conceal her own self-importance. Her department often needed to confer with Elphinstone’s, and he abhorred how she treated her subordinates and took credit for their efforts and accomplishments.
“I love you,” Elphinstone said, tucking a loose strand of black hair that had fallen out of Minerva’s bun behind her ear. Then he kissed her forehead. “Have a wonderful day, darling.”
Minerva's days had been nearly as full as his lately, but in spite of the backdrop of war, they really had been lovely. She was supposed to be on holiday and hadn't stepped foot in Hogwarts since the end of term, but she was still responsible for mailing out all the school letters to the students, had been completing her annual review of her curriculum, and was the professor predominantly charged with making home visits to the incoming muggle borns.
Minerva spent her morning sipping coffee and reading on a patio with Shadow lying at her feet; his head resting on her pointed black shoe. She ordered a breakfast sandwich and slipped bits of bacon underneath the table to him, wryly thinking to herself that she just might have become a dog person after all. They took a stroll through the gardens afterward and then the long way home. Minerva was scheduled to escort a new student, Mary MacDonald, and her parents to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies that afternoon. She decided to remain in her black muggle skirt and cotton green shirt for this trip into the Wizarding World because she reckoned it might make the MacDonalds feel more comfortable.
Diagon Alley's cobblestone street was home to some of the most interesting shops in Britain. Everything on the school supply list could be found there, and consequently it was always packed with Hogwarts students towards the end of the summer holiday. Minerva would never forget the wonder of being brought there for the first time by her mother at age eleven. They'd traveled by train, just the two of them, for a day's trip, and while Isobel fought back mournful tears, Minerva had been excitedly calculating how long it would take her to save up enough allowance to buy her first broomstick. Though bittersweet, it had been one of the best days of her life.
As a teacher, she took joy in delivering acceptance letters to muggle borns and bringing them to Diagon Alley. Besides Hogwarts, she couldn't imagine a better introduction to the Wizarding World. She loved watching her prospective students’ faces light up in amazement while they turned their heads in every direction, trying to take everything in at once: the shops, the displays, the witches and wizards in their long robes going about their errands. Quality Quidditch Supplies, Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour, and the Magical Menagerie where they could choose an owl, a cat, or a toad to bring with them to school were always highlights of the experience. And Minerva always took care to ensure that the day would be one they'd remember forever.
Less enjoyable, was engaging with the mothers and fathers accompanying their magical child to Diagon Alley. They were so often experiencing grief or processing shock at the turn their lives had taken. Some could behave almost hostile - acting as though Minerva had intentions to steal their son or daughter away forever. Nearly all were in varying degrees of sadness or fear, and Minerva found such emotional displays to be uncomfortable to witness. She wasn't a very comforting person, and it wasn't in her nature to attempt to be one, though she tried to offer encouragement when she could.
“My father went through the very same thing as you when I entered the Wizarding World,” Minerva said gently, watching Mary MacDonald’s mother trying to discreetly dab at her tears with a tartan handkerchief at the back of the Apothecary, while a clerk assisted her daughter in acquiring all the ingredients she needed for her first potion-making kit.
They had met only the previous day, when Minerva had arrived in a Scottish village, not very far from Caithness, to hand deliver Mary MacDonald’s acceptance letter to Hogwarts and explain that there really was such a thing as magic. Mrs MacDonald paused in her movements with her handkerchief partially obscuring her face from view. Her husband's eyes were weighing on Minerva. He had said very little so far.
“Your father isn’t magical?” Mrs MacDonald asked softly.
“No, he isn’t,” Minerva shook her head, “and he was very afraid that he was going to lose me when I began at Hogwarts. He thought we’d have nothing in common anymore.”
“That’s what worries me,” said Mrs MacDonald truthfully.
“I understand, but you’ll see in time that all will be well,” Minerva replied. “For instance, I played Quidditch at school - that’s a sport played in the air on broomsticks - but it never stopped me from wanting to go to every football game my Dad got us tickets to. He taught me how to drive a car, took me camping, read me books - all the things he’d have done with me if I hadn’t happened to be a witch. This will change less than you might expect.”
Mrs MacDonald’s lips twitched in a feeble attempt at a smile, but her eyes soon pooled with fresh tears and Minerva was quite certain that her words hadn’t done much of anything to make her feel better. “It's just so hard knowing that I can't be going on this journey with her.”
Minerva nodded her understanding. She would never forget how her own mother had sobbed when she’d received her own letter - not out of pride, but out of envy. Isobel might have left the Wizarding World of her own free will to marry Reverend McGonagall, but on the day that her daughter had begun school, she had appeared just as lost as every muggle parent on the platform. How hard it must be to know of the magical world’s existence and realize you could never be part of it.
“There was always something a little different about Mary,” Mrs MacDonald sighed, her eyes glued to the back of her petite, dark-haired daughter at the counter. ““I’m grateful that I’m able to understand her better now.”
“I think that’s a very healthy outlook,” said Minerva, watching as the clerk finished loading a final jar into Mary’s new potion making kit and began typing the figures into an ancient adding machine.
“That’ll be five galleons and two sickles,” he said finally, and Mary automatically began fumbling awkwardly in her change purse, while Minerva stepped forward to assist in sorting through the wizarding coins they had only just exchanged at Gringotts Bank before beginning the shopping.
“Galleons are the gold ones, count out five of them. Sickles are silver - you need just two of them,” she instructed, relieved that her emotional conversation with Mrs MacDonald had been interrupted.
“Knuts are these bronze ones?” Mary asked, holding up one on the palm of her outstretched hand for Minerva's inspection.
“Exactly,” Minerva replied. “It’s twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon - you’ll have it down by the end of today.”
The front door of the Apothecary creaked open and Lily Evans entered, followed by her parents. All three of them were already laden down with several shopping bags and Lily was preoccupied with the school list in her hand. She had her long dark red hair tied back in a high ponytail and her nose was sunburned - like she’d been spending much of the holidays outdoors. “Professor McGonagall!” she exclaimed, once she saw her, and was quick to reintroduce her parents to the witch who had escorted them on their first trip to Diagon Alley, five years ago.
“You’re going to love Hogwarts,” Lily said kindly to Mary, while their parents all shook hands. “I don’t want to spoil too much, but you get to cross the lake in a boat to reach the castle in your first year and I highly recommend you get a boat close to Hagrid if you can. I don't think anyone knows more about the castle than him. He's fascinating - really everyone there is fascinating in one way or another. History of Magic can be a bit boring, but you'll catch up on your rest there.”
“I’m so excited,” Mary giggled. “I never dreamed anything like this would happen to me. I can’t wait to get my wand.”
“That’s the best part,” Lily told her, then a slight frown creased her expression. “At least the first time is - I just had to replace mine because my sister accidentally snapped it in half.”
Her tone was laced with sarcasm and Minerva noticed pained expressions suddenly overcome both her mother and father’s faces. The estrangement and tension that could exist between magical and non-magical siblings was not unique, and it had been an obvious point of contention between the Evans sisters upon Lily’s admittance to Hogwarts. Minerva recalled how Petunia Evans had slammed the door and refused to come out of the bedroom when she'd arrived to deliver Lily’s letter. It didn’t appear that much had changed.
“I suppose, I should be glad to have a new one with no scratch marks,” Lily added, reaching into the bag slung over her shoulder to pull out a rectangular case to show Mary, who leaned in for a close inspection of the wand fresh from Olivanders.
“Wow,” Mary breathed, and even her parents had moved over for a closer look.
Slipping a hand into the pocket of her skirt, Minerva folded her fingers around her own wand. Nine and a half inches long, made of fir wood, with a core of dragon heartstring; elegant, refined, extremely powerful, and well suited to Transfiguration. Minerva could no sooner imagine replacing it as she could have severed her right arm from her body. The feeling of holding your wand in your hand and knowing with absolute confidence that it was destined for you was unforgettable.
“Ten and a quarter inches long, willow, with a unicorn hair core - swishy and very suitable for charms,” Lily rhymed off. “It’s nearly identical to my old one. I can’t wait to get to school so I can break it in.”
“You’ll be amazed at just how quickly conversations like this start to sound normal,” Mr Evans told the MacDonalds with a grin. They gave him weak smiles in return, but they seemed to be starting to relax now that they were in the company of those they could relate to.
“Miss Evans is one of our new prefects,” Minerva told Mary. “She’ll be a very good resource to you at school - especially if you’re sorted into Gryffindor.”
“We were so thrilled about her badge,” Mrs Evans said happily. “Couldn’t be prouder.”
“It was the easiest decision of my life,” Minerva smiled at Lily. “Truly, my job would be much easier if all my students were like her.”
Lily beamed at the generous praise, but Minerva meant every word. She was pleased to have run into the girl and her parents. Already, her presence seemed to be providing an inexpressible amount of comfort to Mr and Mrs MacDonald, who Minerva had been unable to console on her own. There was no doubt in Minerva’s mind that kind and compassionate Lily would make an excellent prefect.
“Miss Evans, I was just wondering if you’ve seen much of Snape this summer?” Minerva asked discreetly, taking the opportunity to pull the girl aside for a quick word a few minutes later while the two sets of parents were busy exchanging phone numbers. Minerva knew that Lily and Severus were from the same town and was hoping for some reassurance that he was doing alright, considering he hadn’t wanted to go home for the summer at all and she was pretty sure that none of the staff had checked in on him since.
“Not really, Professor,” Lily replied in a clipped tone. “He was supposed to come shopping with me and my parents today, but he blew me off to go hang out with Mulciber instead. He's been doing that a lot lately.”
At least someone had had eyes on him, Minerva told herself after leaving the Apothecary. The Mulcibers were not good people - Dumbledore strongly suspected that Mulciber’s father was a follower of He Who Must Not Be Named. However, if an idiotic teenager chose that sort of company over a nice family like the Evans, then there really was not much hope for him. At least he was receiving some respite from his home life. At least he'd be getting enough to eat.
“It’s packed, but no surprise,” Minerva said, as she held open the door of the next shop for the MacDonalds to go in ahead. “There are some stores that you’ll only need to visit once or periodically during your school career, but everyone needs to visit Flourish and Blotts.”
Mary’s parents looked around the bookshop in wonder. Meeting another family in the same predicament as theirs, seemed to have done them a world of good; at least Mrs MacDonald had stopped crying. Flourish and Blotts was noisy and crowded, with shelves stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Hogwarts book lists were posted on bulletin boards by the door for students who’d forgotten theirs.
“Grab a basket, Miss MacDonald,” Minerva instructed, slipping her glasses on as she glanced at the sheet of parchment in Mary’s outstretched hand. “That table by the window has ‘The Standard Book of Spells’ collection - you need grade 1.”
As Mary hurried off in search of the correct book, Minerva observed the encouraging sight of the girl’s parents taking the initiative to wander over to a display independently and flip open the covers of two different periodicals at random. Potion ingredients, cauldrons, and wands weren’t anything they could relate to in this glimpse into an alternate world, but books could connect and bond them. They could transport them on this journey with their daughter in a way that wouldn’t be possible otherwise.
“I recommend ‘Hogwarts- A History’,” said Minerva gently, selecting a copy off the shelf nearest to them and holding it out to Mr MacDonald. “Isn’t the castle beautiful? It was founded over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. Read this and I think you’ll be very proud that your daughter will be part of its legacy.”
“Thank you,” Mr MacDonald replied politely, taking the book from her and turning open the cover. It was the most he had said all day.
Minerva returned to assist Mary in obtaining copies of ‘A History of Magic’ by Bathilda Bagshot, ‘Magical Theory’ by Adalbert Waffling, ‘A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration’ by Emeric Switch, ‘A Beginners Guide to Potions’ by Randolph Dame, and ‘The Dark Forces - A Guide to Self Protection’ by Quentin Trimble. Then she indulged the girl in another demonstration of magic - performing a lightening charm on Mary’s basket so it weighed no more than a feather.
“Can I look around a bit more, Professor?” Mary asked politely.
Minerva smiled approvingly. “Certainly. I’ll meet you at the front in ten minutes.”
She decided to take this opportunity to check the Transfiguration section for anything new. Though she had never published herself, besides a handful of articles, Minerva made a point to stay at the top of her field by reading absolutely everything on the subject. She’d love to write her own textbooks someday, putting to print the curriculum and tactics she’d perfected throughout her teaching career, but never seemed to have the time. She supposed that might be a good retirement plan to consider, and was lost in her own thoughts when she came upon Andromeda Black sorting books on the highest shelf - her dark curly mane of hair brushing the ceiling. Minerva hadn’t seen or heard from either her or Ted Tonks since she’d dropped them off at The Hog’s Head at the end of term more than a month ago.
“Miss Black, should you be standing on that ladder?” were the first words out of Minerva’s mouth, and Andromeda smirked once she’d looked down and saw who had spoken.
“I’m not a ‘Black’ anymore,” Andromeda corrected her, slowly climbing down the ladder and tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder once both her feet were planted firmly on the floor.
“Have I missed something?” Minerva asked, eyeing the girl closely.
There was a slight hint of roundness to Andromeda’s middle now, beneath her apron, but she was still very slender and it probably would not have been noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. The resemblance to her sister Bellatrix wasn’t as obvious to Minerva as it had been before. More noticeable was the kindness and gentleness in Andromeda’s eyes, though Minerva worried she seemed a bit pale and was surprised to discover that her fondness for the young lady had grown since their last encounter.
“Ted and I were married last week,” Andromeda confessed. “He got accepted into the Healer training program at St Mungo’s hospital, so we had to move to London anyway. Ted starts classes in September and I got a job here to help out until the baby comes. We found a small apartment in the Alley to rent.”
“I never heard,” said Minerva, though she was pleased by the news. Certainly they were young, but no younger than Minerva had been when she’d accepted Dougal’s proposal, and with a baby on the way they had much more at stake.
“Yeah, we’ve been keeping it quiet,” Andromeda said, resting a protective hand on her belly. “Professor Dumbledore officiated and the only witness present was Aberforth. We did it right down in his pub after it closed for the night, but word still reached my parents anyway.”
“How did they react?” Minerva asked seriously.
Andromeda’s plush lips twisted down sadly. “Exactly how I knew they would. They’ve got the whole family united in outcasting me now. Narcissa sent my last letter back unopened and my Aunt Walburga has blasted me off the family tapestry.”
Minerva didn’t know what to say to any of that. It was all so sad, though none of it surprised her. “Do you think you’re safe here?”
“Safe enough,” Andromeda replied briskly. “I’m not sure any of us can say we’re safe right now but my family would never hurt me.”
“Not even Bellatrix?” Minerva asked before she could stop herself.
Andromeda shook her head firmly. “Whatever else she's become, she's still my sister. We'll never have a relationship again but she'd never do me harm.”
“How did Ted’s family take the news?” Minerva asked to change the subject. “Are they supportive?”
“They’ve been very kind to me,” Andromeda said matter-of-factly. “They offered to let us move in with them but I didn’t want to live in a muggle house. That upset them, I think.”
“You’re newlyweds and you have a baby on the way - I think it’s understandable for you to want a place of your own for your little family,” said Minerva, choosing not to comment on Andromeda's clear distaste for muggle life. “So long as the two of you think you can afford to…’
“We will,” said Andromeda confidently. “And his family will come around in time, I'm sure. I’ll be satisfied if my daughter has at least one set of grandparents to celebrate her.”
“Daughter?” Minerva asked with a smile.
Andromeda's heavily lidded eyes seemed to flutter with happiness all of sudden. “I brewed the Genus Revelare potion the other night. It's a girl - I was hoping for a girl”.
Undoubtedly a daughter would suit her, and would be very blessed to have such a strong woman raising her. Andromeda - this pure blood witch from a wealthy family had never been expected to lift a finger to do anything, yet here she now worked in a shop and was contradicting everything she'd ever been taught. With time and space she would only improve.
“I'm so glad that I got to see you,” Minerva said sincerely, preparing to go back to the front of the shop to meet the MacDonalds. She wanted Andromeda to know that she could depend on her. That she could reach out if she needed another person in her circle. “You’ve been on my mind a lot this summer. Will you write down your address for me? I want to send you a wedding present.”
“There's no need, Professor,” Andromeda protested, but she obligingly wrote out her address anyway.
Minerva slipped the small square of parchment into her pocket alongside her wand, and then went to join the queue with Mary to help her pay for her books. There were still more items to buy. Most favorably was a tawny owl from the Magical Menagerie, to carry letters back and forth between Mary and her parents. Then Mary got her own wand from Ollivander and glowed with glee when she burst out of the shop carrying a rectangular box identical to the one Lily Evans had shown her earlier.
“I got it on my first try!” Mary announced proudly, when she came to join Minerva and her parents at a table outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. “Mr Ollivander said almost nobody gets it so quick! Eight and three quarters, made of cherry, with a unicorn hair core!”
They passed through The Leaky Cauldron on their way back into muggle London, and both Mr and Mrs MacDonald gripped Minerva's hands gratefully when saying goodbye. She had enjoyed her time with them also. It was always pleasant to be in Diagon Alley, where running into present and former students was sure to be a guarantee. Mr MacDonald hailed a cab and then held the door for his wife and daughter to slide in first. Then they were gone, and Minerva walked back into Diagon Alley on a different errand.
“I'm looking to buy all the essentials for a baby's first year - a baby girl. Clothes, a cradle, one of those warm bunting bags for winter…everything,” Minerva told the sales associate, who walked over to offer her assistance.
Minerva had only ever been in the Little Wizards boutique a few times to buy gifts for her nieces, but she'd seen enough of her brother Robert's house to know just how much stuff such tiny people required. Her brother, Malcolm, and his wife, Constance, were expecting their babies to be born any day and all throughout the pregnancy they'd been showered with gifts, love, and support. All the things Andromeda Tonks had been largely denied thus far, which Minerva felt compelled to remedy. It was expensive, but Minerva also had no dependents of her own and could easily afford it.
After giving the store the address of Andromeda’s apartment and paying extra to have it all delivered, Minerva went home to dress for dinner. She felt good about her day's work and believed that Elphinstone's goodness just might be rubbing off on her some. Inspiring her to reach out to people, instead of closing up; teaching her to be less critical and more open minded. Her biases had misled her on Andromeda and she was determined they shouldn't again. All her students should be able to come into her classroom like a blank slate and be judged by their own merits, not by Professor McGonagall’s preconceptions.
“But you're here to reassure me that my first impressions of Dolores Umbridge are absolutely correct,” Minerva whispered to Elphinstone behind the stem of her wine glass later that night.
The Gold Unicorn was the fanciest restaurant - magic or muggle - that Minerva had ever been to. Everything from the tables to the winding stairs appeared to be made from true gold and there were enormous ice sculptures enchanted to never melt placed all around. The dress code was strictly enforced and children were not permitted entry. Minerva had bought new navy blue dress robes for the occasion and had borrowed a string of pearls and matching earrings from her mother. Elphinstone had been completely besotted when he'd come home to discover her in front of the mirror applying makeup; and as a consequence they'd been fashionably late to dinner and Minerva's dress was just slightly wrinkled.
“Of course,” Elphinstone replied, patting her knee beneath the table. “I’m glad it's not just me. Though take it as a compliment that she didn't want to acknowledge you. She knows you can’t be used or intimidated.”
Dolores Umbridge had not extended a hand or even nodded in Minerva’s direction when they'd been introduced. Minerva supposed that since she did not work for the Ministry and her presence offered no advantage, Umbridge did not see a point in attempting to befriend her. The other table occupants’ greetings were much more satisfactory. Much loved former students, aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, jumped up to embrace her, with the Prewett brothers close behind.
“I’m missing Hogwarts,” Fabian Prewett told her, “but there’s not much need for a full guard there in the summer, so we’ve been posted in the Atrium.”
“Which has been entirely restored, we're all so overjoyed to say,” Augustus Rookwood chimed in. He was a thin, dark haired man, who had risen from his chair to come over and kiss Minerva's cheek. She had taught him four years ago and knew he'd been making a name for himself in the Department of Mysteries ever since leaving school at the top of his class.
There were many familiar faces seated at the table. Minerva recognized Barty Crouch, judge in the Council of Magical Law, and knew the frail looking woman with thin blonde hair beside him to be his wife. Cornelius Fudge, junior minister of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and his wife were there. And then there was tiny Griselda Marchbanks, an ancient witch who was old enough to have taught at Hogwarts when Dumbledore was a student and who now oversaw their Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations.
“Azalea couldn't make it tonight, Harold?” Elphinstone asked the Minister candidly, once he and Minerva had taken their places.
“No, one of the kids is sick,” Minchum sighed. “She sends her regrets.”
But Minerva thought Minchum appeared to be in very poor health himself. He looked to have aged a decade since the last time she’d seen him and hardly an obstacle to You Know Who’s regime. Though he sat at the head of the table, he likely wouldn’t be for much longer. The cries for Dumbledore to take charge were only growing louder, and though Minerva knew that was a prospect he’d never consider, there were several other contenders she believed more suited to command than the current minister.
“Azalea promised she wouldn't miss the next one,” Minchum added, speaking loudly enough for everyone at the opposite end of the table to hear.
“Oh, I should hope not, Minister,” Umbridge said sweetly, a nasty smile playing around her wide, slack mouth. “She is very missed indeed. It's so wonderful for you to invite all the most valued members of your team out like this. I'm sure everyone else is as grateful as I am.”
“Yes, it’s good for morale,” Rookwood chimed in. “I've looked forward to this all week.”
“Thank you, both,” nodded Minchum. “How often do we all get to sit down and enjoy a civil conversation with each other these days? Which reminds me - I don't want to hear the words ‘Dementor' or ‘Azkaban’ spoken at this table tonight, is that clear?”
Minerva's mouth twitched as she brought her wine glass to her lips. She knew from the Daily Prophet and conversations at home with Elphinstone, that the Ministry was at the center of a controversy concerning Azkaban these days. Crouch had ordered the dementors of the terrible prison to keep in ever closer proximity to the inmates - making the terrible fortress even more inhumane as all the hope and happiness was persistently sucked out of its prisoners with no pause. Dumbledore had argued against the bill most passionately, and surprisingly so had Minchum, but it had been passed in order to inspire fear in offenders and provide the community with a greater semblance of justice.
“You're quite right to say that, Minister,” Umbridge giggled.
Minerva looked up at Elphinstone and fought the urge to roll her eyes at the woman who seemed willing to do just about anything to get the last word. Dolores was wearing frilly pink robes with a matching pink bow in her curly blonde hair. It was the kind of outfit that might have been adorable on her littlest niece, but made no sense in this setting. Unless it was supposed to give the false impression that Dolores was naive and harmless, when her eyes told a very different story of cruelty and ambition at all costs. It was seen in the way she deliberately flattered the Minister but would be quick to join the usurper once it became advantageous to her. She'd been cunningly undermining Minchum around the office for weeks.
“Have you spoken to Dumbledore lately, Madam?” Minchum asked, catching Minerva by surprise when she realized he was speaking directly to her. “He hasn’t responded to my latest owl.”
“Are you surprised, Harold?” chortled little Griselda Marchbanks. “Don’t you think he’s got better things to do than to be answering you - you’re only the Minister for Magic!”
“Not since the last day of term, Minister,” Minerva replied.
A lie. She had spoken to Dumbledore a handful of times, though less frequently than in summers past. He'd never told her about officiating the marriage of Ted Tonks to Andromeda and had been more than vague about his comings and goings. She suspected he'd been abroad and was operating in secrecy, developing forward plans against He Who Must Not Be Named that not even she was privy to at the moment. Minerva wasn't going to tell any of that to Minchum though, and was fortunately spared further questions by the arrival of a serious looking woman with cropped brown hair, who was still dressed in her work robes but did not appear to have had any trouble getting past the maitre’d.
“I’m here…I’m here!” announced Ameila Bones in her loud booming voice.
“Finally!” Gideon Prewett exclaimed. “Some of us are starving, you know?”
“Is that right?” Ameila taunted. “Well, if I hadn't been putting out fires at the office while the rest of you skived off early…”
While Gideon and his brother both guffawed in mock outrage, Minerva rose from her chair to quickly embrace the woman she'd befriended on her first ride on the Hogwarts Express. Though Ameila had gone on to be sorted into Hufflepuff, they'd still hung around one another during their free periods and had even shared a flat in London when they’d both begun working for the Ministry. Though Minerva was still fond of Ameila, they had not been very good at keeping in touch over the years. They were both so driven and focused on their separate careers that there was often no energy left for anything else, but they had always had a lot in common.
“Is it ever good to see you!” Ameila said, patting Minerva’s cheek fondly and then taking the vacant chair to her right. “I didn’t realize until today that you were back in London.”
“Just for the summer,” said Minerva vaguely.
“You sure?” Amelia winked, as a bottle of red wine floated towards her and began filling her glass. “Couldn’t Urquart and I together convince you to stay?”
“No,” Minerva laughed. “I’m afraid not.”
“The Ministry can’t take every talented witch or wizard, Madam Bones,” Crouch interjected from across the table. “We must leave some for Hogwarts. Educating competent law-upholding citizens will be our way out of this mess, I reckon. My son will be sitting his NEWTS next June and he’s devoted the summer to preparing for them. He knows what’s important and good teachers are a crucial component to that.”
“Here, here,” Frank Longbottom said jovially, raising his glass in the air before taking a swig. “Though it still traumatizes me to remember those exams ...but Hogwarts prepared me well for the aurors.”
“I'd be curious to study just how much time Hogwarts has saved the Ministry when it comes to training new employees,” said Rookwood. “Most of us arrived, fresh from school, skilled and well prepared for the rigors of our departments, without much hand holding at the start.”
“Indeed,” Ameila agreed. “Elphi, I recall you remarking that you didn't have time to take on two entry level clerks when Minerva and I were assigned to your office, but by the end of the first week you were eating your words and asking where we'd been all your life.”
“How rude of me to not immediately notice the brilliance before me,” Elphinstone smiled, “especially now that Ameila just got appointed to the Wizengamot.”
“Well deserved,” said Fudge pompously, raising his glass and they all joined in - even Umbridge.
Ameila Bones looked pleased by their recognition. She had taken the Ministry of Magic by storm from the very start and made monumental gains in her humble and unassuming way. She was a prestigious head of Magical Law herself now, with several people reporting to her. A demanding but fair boss, with high expectations. On level with Dolores Umbridge, but with Elphinstone’s high regard.
“So, is this all of us then?” asked Minchum.
“No, we're still waiting on Moody,” Crouch frowned.
“Moody’s not coming,” Alice Longbottom said. “I forgot - when I asked him, he just went on a spiel about how irresponsible we were to be eating out in the open like this.”
“And I thought the lecture he gave me was personal,” complained Gideon.
“He told me someone would poison my drink when I looked away,” added Fabian; and though that was no laughing matter, it did provoke a laugh from the aurors present that had all seen way too much, but perhaps not quite as much as Moody, who grew more paranoid by the day.
“Fabian and I found a solution though,” Gideon announced. “Straight from Knights of the Round Table.” And the two brothers clinked their glasses together so forcefully that wine splashed through the air. “That's how muggles in the middle ages were supposed to ensure nobody poisoned their drink.”
“Wizarding pride, boys,” Fudge shook his head. “We don't need to go sloshing our drinks around.”
Grinning ear to ear, Gideon and Fabian both took polite sips of wine and nearly choked. The mood around the table was lightening, as Minchum had intended. As the server came to take their orders and the night progressed, Minerva found herself growing more and more at ease. The alcohol flowing certainly assisted with that, but she was ever conscious of the feel of Elphinstone's hand on her knee and such gentle touch delighted her. Minerva felt so proud of the well-polished and respected man she'd accompanied there tonight. This was Elphinstone's show, but she fit in just fine. They suited one another and nothing could make her feel more hopeful for the future than that.