Greensleeves

The portkey deposited the collection of professors on the edge of Loch Ness, in the shadow of what was once Urquart castle. As she helped some of the less graceful staff to their feet, Poppy swore she could see a few muggle tourists in the distance, perfectly oblivious to their gathering as they explored the ruins of a smaller keep that was visible to them. Minerva had mentioned Elphinstone's attachment to his family's ancestral lands a few times, and from where she was standing, Poppy could see how one would never want to let go of these particular roots. There was a quiet strength to the land. With the sky overcast, the water appeared almost obsidian, adding to the natural gravitas of the site. The mountains across the loch were partially concealed by the morning mist, and the magical castle, no longer habitable, still radiated a warmth that was grounding the the highland chill. As Albus led them up the path towards the stone chapel that overlooked the grounds, Poppy could see a large oak tree by the water where they had all enjoyed a picnic under last summer. The winds whipped their robes about as if even the weather was angry about the circumstances that brought them there today. Once inside, Poppy felt a loss as the mystical somber atmosphere was broken by the masses of ministry officials milling about in identical black robes. 

She watched as Pomona none too gently led the way and shoved past a young ministry official who was clearly attempting to network in the aisle of the ancient kirk. 

Pomona loudly whispered back to the troupe of teachers. “Phin would have hated this.”

Poppy sighed and agreed, “Indeed. All that's missing is some of those paper planes, and we would find ourselves in an extension of the ministry.”

Severus arched an eyebrow, “He’s remembered. What more do you want?”

Poppy would ponder his statement many years later as Rolanda elbowed him in the ribs while they shuffled into an aisle. For the moment, she let herself be distracted by the sulky expression on Severus' face as he clearly pondered what sins he was paying dues for as he found himself wedged between the herself and flight instructor. His sullen glare as he looked longingly at the row of the "younger" professors behind them all really did resemble a little boy in need of being chaperoned by the "spinsters" of Hogwarts. The matron mused- how will this boy survive as a teacher with that poker face? 

Rolanda met his glare eyebrow for eyebrow. Poppy ignored their immaturity and tried to think of an answer to his question. If she didn't talk about something, her grief, her guilt would be too much to bear, so she chose to answer his question, but spoke to no one in particular.

“For a man who spent most of his life under ministry, Elphinstone hated monotony.” Poppy smiled at a memory. “I think he was the only one other than Albus who embraced the switch to those plum monstrosities in the Wizengamot as it was finally something other than black.”

Albus chuckled on her other side, “Indeed, before our lovely mauve robes became all the rage..." A few of the faculty tried to hide their snickers, as the headmaster continued, "...if you looked closely enough, he always tried to add a hint of color somewhere, colorful socks, a cravat or scarf depending on the outfit. It always drives…” Albus’s expression froze as he corrected himself. “It always drove Minerva mad.”

Pomona, who had managed to hold the seat at the end of the aisle reached over Filius to pat Albus’ arm. “Oh, he enjoyed that. Once they moved to Hogsmeade, Minerva would hide her teaching robes, as he kept charming them to change colors when she left in the morning. Oh Merlin- remember the morning she didn’t realize until second period that her robes were pink!”

Even Severus chuckled at that- that had been a delightful breakfast.

Another new teacher on staff, Aurora Sinistra questioned, “So what was his favorite color then?”

Poppy couldn't help but grin as she and all of the “old guard” as Severus had dubbed them immediately responded without hesitation. “Green.”

The potions master looked surprised as he drew out the word, “Really?”

Poppy nodded, “Indeed. He kept trying to convince Minerva that it was because of her eyes, and she said she’d never believe a Slytherin.”

Severus seemed quite sure that hell must have frozen over if the head of Gryffindor had married a Slytherin.

Filius chuckled at the young man's disbelief and leaned forward to ask, “Was it the second or third time after he proposed that he broke out into Greensleeves?”

Severus could not hide his surprise (seriously, how was he going to survive teaching?), “He proposed more than once?”

Albus glanced at the planets on his watch, “Oh you could set your calendar by Phin’s proposals, at least twice a year, three times if there was particularly good weather. That time in particular, she hexed him as she found the song more risqué than romantic.”

Sinistra seemed just as shocked as he was, “And he kept proposing to her?”

Pomona nodded, “For almost fifteen years. After the Greensleeves incident, he proposed to her any time she wore green. To be fair, she never said no, usually a “not now.””

“She still hexed him.” Severus observed.

Rolanda sighed, “Well, that was frankly to be expected, how else do you expect Minerva McGonagall to react when someone starts singing about buying her petticoats in the Three Broomsticks?”

Poppy smiled at the memory of a the couple still walking back hand in hand as Elphinstone tried to cover his newly shaved head. Severus did not even try to contain his snort.

Any reprimand Poppy had prepared was cut short as the organ bellowed, announcing the beginning of the service. As the congregation stood, Poppy elbowed Severus. Quicker than she expected, he got the message and swapped places. He begrudgingly stood next to Albus as she took her place next to Rolanda.

Poppy needed to hold her hand.

---

Severus rubbed his side as the doors to the chapel opened wide. He was starting to believe that matrons did not take the healer's oath of "Do no harm," but this train of thought left the station as the funeral cortege appeared in the doorway. Six ministry officials flanked the coffin, holding their wands high as they magically carried it down the aisle. Then there she was. Two steps behind, draped in a black robe, flanked by who Severus could only assume were her family, an older man, her father perhaps, and another man who he could guess was her brother. Dark hair, same pointed features- different eyes though, but Severus assumed that something had to come from her mother. A gaggle of what had to be nieces and nephews followed behind. As the McGonagalls walked past, he shifted his focus. He didn't want to see how fragile Professor McGonagall looked right now, just like he didn't want to remember the panic and terror in her eyes as he knelt down next to Poppy and tried to revive her husband. He didn't want to remember how she reached out to touch the coffin before she sat down next to one of her nieces, just as he tried to forget the sight of her just days ago, staring vacantly ahead as she sat vigil next to her husband's body, still covered in his blood. She didn't deserve this.

The music stopped, and those assembled took their seats. The older man remained standing, and Severus narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t wearing robes like all who had gathered, but rather a simple black suit, and was that a collar?

The man patted Minerva’s arm and then walked to the lectern.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the old guard exchange glances. Sprout somehow had more tears streaming down her face, and Dumbledore looked slightly nervous- something Severus had rarely seen.

Poppy had a sad smile as she muttered beside him, “Oh Min. What have you and Phin done now?”

The unknown man reached the lectern and intoned in a strong Scottish brogue, “Nevertheless, continually O Lord, I am with thee.”

Severus’s mind started racing.

“Thou dost behold my right hand and still upholdest me.”

This was not the run of the mill wizarding funeral.

“Thou, with thy counsel, while I live, wilt me conduct and guide;”

By now if you hadn't mentioned Merlin, Morgana, or Circe, at least three times, the ministry itself would smite you.

“And to thy glory afterward receive me to abide.”

Good lord, he hadn’t heard words like this since he snuck into the back of St Mary’s for biscuits as a kid. Severus needed answers. He looked between the the headmaster and the matron and decided to take his chances with the headmaster.

“Is that a muggle presiding over the funeral rite of the previous head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?”

Dumbledore ducked his head and whispered quietly to Severus. Severus saw Aurora leaning forward in the row behind them to catch his response.

“That’s Minerva’s father. Elphinstone spent a good chunk of his career trying to convince the pureblood members of the ministry to reach beyond their circles, and now it seems his last act is making them listen to a muggle preacher for what is sure to be an extensive sermon.”

Severus spoke slowly, making sure he was connecting the right dots.

“Minerva McGonagall’s father is a muggle minister?”

The row turned to glare at him. He must have spoken a little more loudly than intended.

Sprout huffed, “Is that a problem?”

Severus surveyed the room and launched into damage control, “No, no, just making sure I hadn’t had a stroke like the ministry officials over there.”

This efficiently got the focus off of him and turned the teachers' glares to a row of ministry morons that had cast a silencing spell around their pew and were clearly besides themselves.

A second later there was a pop as the silencing bubble burst and the ministry officials clapped their hands over their mouths, or at least where their mouths should have been. They appeared to have disappeared. Dumbledore couldn’t hold back a small chuckle as Severus muttered, “Professor Dumbledore, what have you done?” “I, my dear boy, did nothing.” The headmaster's eyes twinkled as he nodded towards the front. From this angle, Severus could just barely see the side of Minerva’s face, where he saw the flash of a small, satisfied smile before it caught sight of the casket in front of her. She nodded to the wooden box, and refocused on her father, who at this point was walking the wizarding congregation quite forcefully through a psalm.

She apparently was going to make sure they all sat politely through her father’s sermon, her husband’s service, come hell or high holy water. And for the first time since Severus saw her that fateful day when he had been called to help Poppy attempt to revive this man, he actually believed it as he whispered to himself more than anybody else, “She’ll be ok.”

---

Pomona looked down and tried to refrain from sighing as the Reverend McGonagall launched into another passionate paragraph on the grace of God. She could guess what Phin’s intentions were, but Merlin, Morgana and Circe, it was clear Minerva’s often clipped responses were developed in response to her father’s sweeping sermons. She looked up as he paused again and braced herself as he took a deep breath for what she feared were another few paragraphs of brimstone.

The Scottish preacher surprised them all when he sighed and removed his glasses.

“Now, I would guess most of you did not understand most of what I just imparted. Many of you may believe that magic and muggles do not mix. I know I did.”

For once, those gathered were naturally silent, as heads turned to stare at the man, and sleeping neighbors were nudged awake.

“My wife hid away her magic to be with me. It wasn’t until this young lass started playing my bagpipes from her crib that I learned of your world.”

Pomona reached for Filius' hand, as she smiled softly.

“I was shocked. I was in disbelief. I searched the bible for answers to explain what I could not. I didn’t try to understand it. I feared it. Isobel soothed my fears by hiding magic from me. With her wand away, I didn't need to understand, it simply was not part of our lives."

Filius could feel the unease in the room, which had already been precariously high, scamper up a few more steps. Isobel Ross had come from an esteemed pureblood family, and was a powerful witch in her own right. The fact that she hid her magic would not sit well with many in this crowd. He hoped the reverend knew what he was doing, as he continued, seemingly obliviously on.

"Many years passed before I tried to understand it again. But this time, I didn’t fear it. I was filled with anger and grief. I could not understand a war that I had never heard of which killed my son, his wife, and two of their beautiful children.”

Pomona saw the young woman next to Minerva rest her head on her shoulders, and Minerva wrapped an arm around her. The chapel was silent. The murder of the young McGonagall family had truly rocked the wizarding world. You-know-who had targeted the McGonagalls specifically at a muggle fair in Scotland. A dozen dead. Among them, Minerva's youngest brother Robert, his wife Therese, and two of their children, Euan and Ainsley, who were only six and nine years old. Pomona let out a shaky breath. The only reason Minerva was here now was because Robert's oldest, Maisie was already at Hogwarts. They were supposed to join them, but the young lass, as rebellious as her father, had received detention at the last minute. Minerva volunteered to supervise so she could take her niece to join the festivities as soon as it was over. Pomona knew that the detention saved their lives, no matter what guilt both of them carried for not being with the family that day.

Pomona looked at the two women in the front pew grieving and supporting each other over losses old and new.

Pomona thanked spirits every day that she caught Maisie McGonagall smoking behind Greenhouse 3.

---

"A wizard killed my grandchildren because I was their grandfather, and my children dared to defend me. After that, there was only grief. A grief we somehow learned to live with, but I could find no good in magic. Magic was no longer welcome at all in the house.” The reverend paused. Albus knew Minerva respected her father, more than anyone else, and Albus could see why as the man spoke an uncomfortable truth to an audience that he knew he was defenseless against. He had an inkling that they were about to reach the peak of this man's sermon, the turning point- and he hoped beyond hope that he would not need to defend any McGonagalls today.

“So years later, when Minerva nervously said she was bringing a Mr Elphinstone Urquart, a wizard, to our home, I was at a loss. I had longed hoped that she would find someone without magic, like her mother did.”

The headmaster glanced around and enjoyed the horrified look on many of the mourner’s faces. Albus knew what they were thinking, legilimancy really wasn't necessary as at least half of them were mentally screaming “How dare this muggle question one of the sacred twenty eight?! Doesn’t he know how lucky his daughter, a half-blood, was for this match?” Merlin knew, Witch Weekly had had a field day at the beginning of their courtship.

"I sat outside waiting for them, reading my bible, searching for something to help me understand what a wizard would believe in, what drove him, what grounded him. Then, as they walked up the path to our home, I heard something, something I hadn’t heard in years. I heard my daughter laugh."

Albus indeed remembered those dark years. Minerva had always been rather serious, but her brothers had always brought out a side of mischief. He recalled the pranks they played on her during her first year of teaching, that nearly drove her up the wall, before she turned the tables on them, literally. The sight of the McGonagall brothers stuck to their desks which were stuck to the ceiling of the Transfiguration Classroom was one he would never forget. Even after they left Hogwarts, the pair enjoyed sending embarrassing Howlers or jinxed envelopes at least once a year. After Robert's murder, Minerva threw herself into her work and taking care of Maisie. She celebrated Maisie's successes, took joy in her accomplishments, but the twinkle of mischief had disappeared, until one day, a few years after Maisie had graduated and moved to America, he found her walking around the lake with her old boss from her ministry days, attempting to stifle her laughter. The man was drenched from head to toe after a friendly altercation with the giant squid. Between chuckles, she introduced them, and Albus had to agree with Elphinstone, that the smile on her face was worth the encounter with the mollusk. When Elphinstone inquired if an encounter with the Loch Ness monster would have similar results, she just smiled and told him "One step at a time" before kissing his cheek and returning to the castle, leaving a flustered Elphinstone and a very amused headmaster behind. Albus shook his head and focused once again on the minister.

"Our home had become very quiet once Robbie died. And there, strolling down the road was a couple so clearly in love you could hear it. As I looked to close my bible, a verse jumped out at me, Proverbs, Chapter 3, Verse 5. “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.” When I expelled magic from our home in my fear, and further in my grief, I asked my family to hide a part of themselves, and that was not love, and I undermined the trust between us. Trust and Love comes from taking a person as they are, the parts with and without magic, loving all of God's creation. I realized then that I did not need to understand the complexities of your rather ridiculous ministry, no more than you need to understand parliament. I did not need to understand quidditch any more than you need to understand football. But we do need trust and respect, for we are all children, all people, and all loved. So when I finally met this man who brought my lass so much happiness, I asked the one question that truly mattered, and to my relief, yes, he was Scottish.”

Beside him, Pomona couldn’t help the small bark of laughter that escaped her. As Filius gently patted her leg, Albus saw Minerva turn to and share a small smile with Pomona. More tears streamed down Pomona's face and she blindly reached for the hanky that Filius was dependably holding in front of her. The audience took an uneasy gasp of air as at least the Scots in the audience enjoyed the reverend's unabashed pride.

"But with time, trust, and honesty, I did grow to understand Elphinstone over these past few years." Minerva's father continued. "He believed first in foremost in fairness and failed to understand the meaning of retirement as he continued to advise in legal reforms. He was driven by ambition, a true Slytherin I am told, not that I understand per se, but his ambition was not for himself, but for all of society to reach its highest potential." Albus turned to see a particular Slytherin smiling softly in appreciation as she rested her head on Rolanda's shoulder. Even Severus had been surprised to learn that the matron was from his own house during Faculty Orientation (His surprise quickly turned to indignation at the faculty budget review when he learned that she had successfully switched the financial responsibility of the healing potions from her budget to his).

"And he was grounded by his friends and family. He truly listened to whomever he spoke with, responding equally seriously to his young nieces and nephews as he would to a former colleague. He liked to challenge everyone around them- a fact that may be no greater evidenced by the fact that he requested in his will that I preside over this service."

Even some of the ministry wizards chuckled at that.

"He may be remembered by most as an excellent wizard. But I will remember him most as a good man, a good husband to my daughter, and my good friend."

As the preacher was clearly wrapping up his sermon, Albus looked closely at Minerva as she raised her head. Mixed with the grief, a fierce pride was evident as she gazed up at her father. Minerva may have been a hatstall between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Albus knew her mother had been a Ravenclaw legacy, but it was clear today that the McGonagall legacy was Gryffindor, beginning with the muggle on the pulpit.

"May the lord bless us, bless his memory, and may we now engage again in prayer."

Albus whispered the phrase he didn't need to understand. “Amen.”

---

The service concluded quickly after that. No further silencios were needed, much to Minerva's relief.

She watched as her father announced the final hymn, and stood silently as she heard familiar voices behind her stumble sweetly through through Amazing Grace.

Her father came down from the pulpit and nodded at the ministry officials in the front row. Minerva watched as the six wizards followed their muggle father's silent order, and began escorting the coffin out of the chapel. He motioned for her to follow, but Minerva hesitated. After this, they buried him. After this, Phin truly was gone. That single step out of the pew seemed like the chasm between the hell she hoped she was dreaming and her new reality. Her father reached out his hand, and Maisie leaned up whispered in her ear a phrase that had once been their mantra, "Auntie, one step at a time."

Maisie went back to school and Minerva went back to teaching, one step at a time.

Maisie graduated, and Minerva became deputy headmistress, one step at a time.

Maisie followed her dreams to establish the American National Quidditch League, one step at a time.

Minerva fell in love with Elphinstone, one step at a time.

Minerva knew she would go on, one step at a time.

Minerva made her way down the aisle, looking not a Phin's coffin floating ahead, but at the faces of those who came. On the right, were Phin's friends from the Ministry, and a whole collection of people who were not Phin's friends, and a few who had still not figured out the counterspell for her little jinx.

On the left, her eyes landed on the Hogwarts staff. They certainly were a dysfunctional family if there ever was one, but she loved them. Rubeus was clearly visible, taking up half a row in the back while he blew his nose with a table cloth. The younger faculty sat around him, with the exception of Severus, who was sandwiched between Poppy and Albus, due to his excellent behavior, Minerva had no doubt. The young man inclined his head ever so slightly as she made her way down the aisle, through a combination of sheer determination and Maisie's iron grip. She saw that Poppy was finally standing with Rolanda, not a carefully calculated distance apart. That gave her a tiny spark of hope- and she'd take anything she could get today. Albus indicated his clashing purple cravat that she and Elphinstone had given for him last Christmas, another spark. And then there was Filius and Pomona. What would she do without them? What would she do without Pomona? She stopped at the pew and accepted Pomona’s outstretched hand.

She looked at all of them and whispered, “Thank you.”

---

The crowd made the short journey from the chapel to the graveyard in just a few minutes. The Ministry Escort respectfully held the coffin above ground as Minerva leaned to whisper a few last words to her husband during her father’s benediction. She stood and nodded at her father as he finished. As the coffin lowered into the earth, the wizards and witches raised their wands

Minerva raised hers for a few moments and then pulled it to her chest. She turned and walked away. A single tear on her cheek as she walked past. Albus made to follow, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Let her go, Albus. She needs time.”

Severus stared in shock as the most powerful wizard in the world did as he was told by the muggle minister.

Severus heard the wind before he felt it. The howling sounds were joined by notes from a bagpipe in the distance. As notes turned into a familiar haunting melody, he saw Filius pull out another hanky.

Severus for years to come would not be certain if the words were only in his head or if the voice he heard was from one of the professors gathered around him.

Alas my love you do me wrong

To cast me off discourteously;

And I have loved you oh so long

Delighting in your company.

As the refrain began, Severus turned and his breath caught.

Minerva was standing on the edge of the loch. Her head held high, as if she was searching the sky for her husband. As the music and wind blew around her, her hair escaped her bun and joined the breeze, whipping back and forth. The crowd kept silent, transfixed on the witch. As the wind, which surely was embodied with the spirit of Elphinstone swept around her, her black robe was swept up with it, revealing a brilliant emerald green dress.

Greensleeves was my delight,

Greensleeves my heart of gold

Greensleeves was my heart of joy

And who but my lady Greensleeves.