Morning Constitutional
Minerva stretched and yawned. She didn’t remember sleeping so well in years. She smiled, thinking of the previous evening. Albus had been so wonderfully sweet. That he would take her mention of Fortescue’s and use it to create such a lovely – not a date, exactly, but an outing – certainly proved the truth and sincerity of his promise to make more time for her. Minerva hoped that the last two days weren’t aberrations; Albus was a very busy wizard. She believed that he would truly try to make more time for her, but it was probably best not to count on Albus’s time being his own.
She rolled out of bed and looked out at another glorious day. A nice morning to begin her new regimen of healthy walks. And Occlumency. She couldn’t allow this beautiful friendship developing with Albus to be derailed by uncontrollable physical reactions.
Minerva showered quickly and chose a set of deep green robes with a v-neck and long sleeves. It was still quite cool out, so, paired with a light-weight cloak, the green outfit seemed appropriate, although she never would have worn it in London in July. She sat at her dressing table and gazed at her reflection a moment. Perhaps some kind of chignon? A wave of her wand, and the sides of her hair were pulled back gently from her face, gathered in a pony-tail, and loosely wound at the back of her head; another swish, and the hair that still hung down her back was gathered, flipped up, and wrapped around the first low bun. A few Charmed hairpins later, and Minerva was satisfied. She hesitated, then inserted a few more hairpins for good measure. It didn’t really matter what she looked like, of course, and if her hair came down a bit, there wouldn’t be anyone to see her, anyway.
After a quick cup of tea, Minerva grabbed her light-weight green tweed cloak and set off for her walk. It was a brisk morning, but Minerva walked quickly around the greenhouses and toward the lake. As she walked, she thought that on such a gorgeous day, she should really take a bit of a run. With a pop, she Transfigured to her Animagus form and began to trot along briskly. She was less interested in the lake now, though, and veered off toward the edge of the forest, following it along and occasionally breaking into a brief sprint. Near Hagrid’s cabin, there was a stand of trees that didn’t quite belong to the Forbidden Forest, and it was those trees that called her. It had been too long since she had climbed a tree!
Reaching the small grove, Minerva first sharpened her claws vigorously on an old, rough-barked tree. It felt very good. The ground was still a bit dewy, but there were some old, dry leaves left from the previous autumn, and she couldn’t resist rolling in them a bit. In the years since she had become an Animagus she had passed through phases of being more and less comfortable in the form until now she felt almost as at ease in her tabby skin as she did in her ordinary one. Minerva stretched, chin almost to the ground, tail high, then took off at a break-neck pace, chasing at nothing around and through the trees. Coming upon a nice specimen with well-spaced branches, Minerva leapt the first five feet from the ground to the trunk of the tree, grabbing onto it with all her claws. She hadn’t done this in a while, and she almost slipped before she had her grip established. From there, it was an easy job to climb to a nice branch about twenty feet up. She could probably have climbed a bit further, but Minerva was sure this limb would support her quite comfortably, and the narrower branches above didn’t look as secure.
Minerva stretched out along the branch, which was directed toward Hagrid’s hut and the castle. She had never had any success practising Occlumency exercises whilst in her Animagus form, more’s the pity, because that tree branch would have been such a comfortable place to do so. Unfortunately, although it was quite suited to her current form, Minerva doubted that the branch would support her in her ordinary form.
Minerva half-dozed, eyes slitted, when she suddenly perked up. Someone was coming down from the castle. Another early riser. A witch, from the look of it. Wilhelmina, she guessed, even before she could see her very clearly. There weren’t very many people left in the castle. Instead of her heading toward the paddock, Minerva was somewhat surprised to see Wilhelmina approach Hagrid’s cabin. Well, perhaps she had arranged for him to assist her with something before breakfast.
Minerva could hear Wilhelmina knock on the door, then Hagrid must have told her to enter, because she opened it immediately and went in. Minerva shifted slightly on her branch, watching curiously. Just two or three minutes later, the door opened again, and Wilhelmina reappeared. Hagrid was behind her in the doorway, dressed only in an old pair of shorts. Minerva was more than slightly surprised that Wilhelmina would have walked in on him like that, not to mention that Hagrid was not scrambling for his clothing. Of course, perhaps he had, and what he was wearing was the result.
Minerva wished she’d chosen a tree just a bit closer to Hagrid’s cabin. She couldn’t hear very much, but it appeared that they were having words. Or at least that Wilhelmina was. Hagrid was just standing there, in the half-open doorway, looking down at her, shaking his head, and making occasional brief responses. Hmm. Perhaps Wilhelmina had thought they had an arrangement for that morning, but Hagrid hadn’t realized it, and she was trying to convince him to help her with something despite the early hour. After a few minutes of this, Wilhelmina turned around to leave, and Hagrid shut the door. After taking a few steps, Wilhelmina turned toward the cabin and looked at it for a moment before finally beginning her walk back to the castle.
Well, that was curious. She should get up early and take morning constitutionals for reasons other than her health, it seemed. Minerva wanted to know what was going on, but doubted that she would find out. She couldn’t very well go up to Wilhelmina and say, “By the way, Wilhelmina, I noticed that you visited Hagrid this morning. While he was dressed in his underwear. What was that all about?” And given how embarrassed Hagrid had been when she had seen him with only his shirt off, Minerva doubted that she could broach the subject with Hagrid – at least not directly.
Minerva was beginning to get a bit hungry, so she came down out of her tree and trotted directly toward the castle, thinking of breakfast. She didn’t transform back to her ordinary form until she reached the great oak doors. Too bad there was no cat door. It felt good to exercise her Animagus form. She hadn’t done that enough during the last few months. But once Minerva transformed to her ordinary form, she remained in it and began the trek back up to her rooms. She would have to use a Scourgify on her cloak – probably on her robes, as well – after her excursion.
Minerva ate a quick breakfast in her rooms, brought to her by “I, Blampa,” and thought about her meeting later with Albus. They hadn’t set a time, but she thought that she would see if he was in his office a bit later in the morning. Before that, she wanted to gather her research together. Although Minerva was fairly certain that Albus would be familiar with what she had found, she wanted to be prepared in case he had any questions or wanted to refresh his memory. She hated being yet another person making demands on his time, but she thought it only logical to approach him; she’d really rather not go through official channels if she didn’t have to.
Minerva pulled out her oldest and most trusted book on Occlumency, Occlumency: From Clearing to Clouding, and skimmed its table of contents. Opening the book to the chapter titled, “Maintaining Emotions, Mastering Physiological Responses,” Minerva reviewed one of the exercises that she had practised assiduously during her seventh year. She didn’t believe that her practice was a success at the time, but now, as an adult, Minerva believed that her maturity would help her master this particular exercise. It appealed to her because it did not focus on eliminating the emotions altogether, as some of the other exercises did, but only on eliminating the individual’s physiological response to those emotions. Of course, some physiological responses were tied more closely to external stimuli than to a specific emotion – Minerva thought of Albus’s hand on her thigh the evening before at dinner – but the book promised that even those types reactions would be lessened once the technique was fully mastered.
She did not want to practise the exercises that aimed at completely eliminating all physiological response to external, emotionally-laden stimuli, insofar as that was even possible, because that would involve divorcing herself too fully from her experiences and her emotions. Minerva thought that would be very unhealthy, particularly if practised on a daily basis. The book even warned of the “rebound effect” that could occur with those exercises – emotional outbursts, hypersensitivity, feelings of rage, and so forth – if a practitioner relied upon them too much. Minerva thought they might be useful if one were a prisoner of war, but were otherwise too dangerous.
Minerva remembered how she had come to view her Occlumency exercises in a different light after her accident in the Transfiguration classroom. It had suddenly occurred to her one day in January that Albus Dumbledore was reputed to be a master Legilimens. Her heart rose to her throat as the fear began to form in her that her professor would be able to look into her mind and see what she was thinking about him, what she was feeling for him, and what she had experienced that day in the classroom. She hadn’t read the Occlumency book very thoroughly before that, concentrating only on the few chapters with exercises that seemed related to her Animagus training, so she went back and re-read the single introductory chapter dealing with Legilimency.
Minerva learned that a highly skilled Legilimens need not even speak the incantation in order to perform Legilimency, and although direct eye-to-eye-contact is often required, some Legilimens were able to perform the spell without it, although obtaining less information than if they had made eye-contact with the object of the spell. In addition, the more emotionally-laden the memory, the more easily a Legilimens could find the memory and view it. Although Legilimency was not mind-reading, and so the person practising it could not “read” the on-going thoughts of another like a book or a script, a Legilimens could easily see the current emotions of the person they were “reading” and could pick up the other person’s concerns and what they were focussed on. The book said that some Legilimens who practised it regularly could pick up another person’s thoughts and emotions without even trying to.
The thought that Dumbledore might read her mind at any time and discover what she felt about him terrified Minerva. Clearly, the thoughts and memories that she didn’t want him to see were highly laden with emotion, and therefore easy for a Legilimens to find; every time she was with Dumbledore, she experienced strong emotions. She would be very vulnerable if he used Legilimency on her.
Minerva was trying to gain some control over her emotional response to her professor, but had not made much progress. When he insisted that she return to her Animagus training, at least for a trial period, Minerva had no idea how she could continue to avoid eye-contact with him. It seemed rude and cold, as it was, but in the context of one-on-one lessons, it seemed impossible. She knew that becoming a truly accomplished Occlumens could take years. Even attaining the stage of being able to Occlude completely without the added finesse of misdirection would be the work of months, probably much more without a teacher.
Finally, one day at the beginning of February, Minerva decided to directly address the question with her mentor.
“Professor Dumbledore, I have heard that you are a Legilimens,” Minerva said bluntly.
“Yes, I have studied and practised the Art of Legilimency,” he replied. “If you wish to learn it, I recommend waiting until you have finished your Animagus training, however. It is very demanding, especially if one does not have a natural talent for it.”
“No, no, that’s not it . . . I was just wondering, um, can you perform it without casting the spell?”
“Yes, I can; why do you ask?”
“I was just re-reading Clearing to Clouding, and I read the chapter on Legilimency. I had some questions, that’s all.”
“I see. And have I answered them all?” Dumbledore asked with a smile.
“Well, no, actually. The book said that if a Legilimens is accomplished enough, they can read someone’s thoughts without even trying to, kind of accidentally . . .”
“Ah. I see. Yes, occasionally someone’s emotional state is such that they broadcast their feelings and thoughts quite loudly; there was a brief period during which this posed a problem for me. I do not like to eavesdrop on the private, internal thoughts and feelings of another. My control is now such that I have to be consciously ‘listening’ in order to eavesdrop, and I do that very, very rarely. Is that what you were wondering about?”
“Yes, but . . . well, what’s ‘rarely’?”
Albus smiled. “‘Rarely’ means ‘almost never,’ my dear. I would have to have a very good reason for it. I might use it to detect whether someone is lying to me about something of truly vital importance – life and death matters, my dear, not whether someone ate the last biscuit in the staff room biscuit tin. And I would not practise full Legilimency on someone without their permission except under similar circumstances – although that is more difficult than simply ‘eavesdropping,’ and it is hard to prevent the object of the spell from becoming aware of what you are doing, even if you do it without a wand or the incantation.”
“So you wouldn’t just . . . if there were a student, would you . . .” Minerva didn’t know how to ask her professor if he eavesdropped or practised Legilimency on Hogwarts students.
“If you are asking me whether I practise Legilimency on my students, the answer is ‘no.’ There might come an occasion upon which I might believe it appropriate to eavesdrop to a degree, but only, as I said before, in matters of truly vital importance – not to discover whether someone cheated on an exam. I can use completely mundane skills acquired through years of experience to tell whether someone is lying to me about things like that, my dear!” Albus smiled brightly at her.
“So you wouldn’t just . . . read my mind?” Minerva asked hesitently.
“My word, no, Minerva! And certainly if I ever were to use Legilimency on you, I would seek your permission first. I honestly cannot envision any circumstance in which I would even merely eavesdrop on your private, internal thoughts, my dear. I do occasionally pick up on things from you, of course, but without Legilimency involved in any way. I have come to know you fairly well, Minerva, and so I may sometimes accurately guess at your thoughts and feelings.” Albus paused, looking at her. “You know, Minerva, Animagus training, more so than many other branches of magic, requires trust between the student and the teacher. You have told me before that you trusted me. Has that changed? You have been . . . behaving differently since your accident. I truly am sorry that I caused it, you know.”
“Oh, yes, sir, I know you are. And it was an accident, as you say, and not your fault. I do trust you . . . it’s just that after reading that chapter, I began to get nervous, that’s all.”
Professor Dumbledore looked at her, somewhat sadly, Minerva thought. “Before you were of age, I would not have practised Legilimency on you in any form even with your consent. Now that you are of age, I still would not do so without your consent.”
“What about those ‘life-or-death’ circumstances?”
“In that case, I have faith in you, enough trust in you, to believe that you would not lie to me about anything, and so it would be unnecessary for me to resort to Legilimency.”
Minerva blushed slightly; of course he trusted her. And she should trust him, as well. For the first time in weeks, Minerva met her professor’s eyes without quickly looking away again.
“Thank you, Professor. I guess I sometimes get silly ideas, that’s all. I do trust you; it’s just the idea of anyone listening to my thoughts or feelings . . . well, like you said, they’re private.”
A silence came over the two, and Minerva thought that Professor Dumbledore was trying to decide whether to ask her anything else. Finally, he said, “Minerva, you know that you can trust me enough to talk to me, to tell me things, and that I would respect your confidences, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied quietly, hoping that he would not again ask her about her feelings about the accident.
“Good. You don’t need to tell me anything at all, of course, but I hope you trust me enough that you feel you could do so.”
“You know that I trust you, Professor.” Feeling as though that answer were incomplete, she continued, “It’s just that sometimes I have to work through things on my own, you know?”
“Yes, I know, Minerva. You are very independent. But if you ever have a burden, know that I am here to share it with, if you wish.” His gentle look as he said those words almost tore through Minerva’s self-control, but she took a steadying breath.
“I am fine. No more burdens than the usual, sir!” She smiled at him.
“All right, then, my dear. I am glad I was able to reassure you.” He hesitated again. “You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if someone were causing you trouble or harming you? You wouldn’t hide such a thing from me?”
“Of course not!”
“No one is bothering you, no boys . . . ?” he trailed off, the question in his voice.
“Oh, no, sir, nothing like that. Really.” Minerva remembered how, in her fourth year, a sixth-year Hufflepuff had tried to poison herself after being repeatedly “bothered” by a pair of Slytherin boys. The girl had never said anything to anyone because, as she later explained, they never really hurt her, they “only” touched her and said disgusting things. Fortunately, she was barely adequate at potions-making, and she survived her suicide attempt. The boys were given detention five nights a week for the rest of the school year and were placed in common-room-confinement at all times they weren’t at meals or in classes. Many thought the punishment was too harsh – after all, they had only teased the girl, they hadn’t poured the potion down her throat – whilst others thought they got off too lightly. However, as a result of their common-room-confinement, their House Quidditch team lost a Beater and a Chaser, so the lesson that certain lines weren’t to be crossed was extended to the rest of Slytherin. Minerva didn’t think it was a lesson that was learned, but Headmaster Dippet made such decisions, not she.
“Good. You would tell me, or another teacher, if someone were bothering you like that, I hope?”
“Of course. But I don’t think anyone would dare,” Minerva said with the confidence of a competent young witch.
“Perhaps not, but many things can happen to any of us that we might formerly believe impossible, Minerva. It is not a weakness to ask for help.”
“I know, sir.”
Minerva hadn’t had another conversation like that with her mentor, although she did believe that Dumbledore was still concerned about her reaction to the accident in the Transfiguration classroom for quite some time. In retrospect, Minerva thought, she should have made up some story for Albus, something that was true enough not to be a lie and yet far enough from the truth that he would not know what it was she had really experienced that evening in the Transfiguration classroom. He might have left the subject alone if Minerva had had some answer for him right from the beginning. It was fine to look back on the events years later and imagine what she might have done differently, but Minerva was quite aware that she still had difficulty as an adult dealing with her feelings for Albus; how could she expect that, at seventeen, she could have dealt with them any better?
After Minerva spent almost an hour practising the exercise aimed at mastering her physiological responses, she gathered her curriculum materials and her research into the “Melina-Brennan” problem and headed off to the Headmaster’s office.