The Comforts of Home
Albus woke early Friday morning, shoved his sheet aside, rolled over, and sat up. Blinking sleepily, he waved his hand to open the heavy curtains covering the south- and east-facing windows of his bedroom. He sat there a moment, legs dangling over the side of his bed and wiggling his toes, before standing and looking out to the south, where mist was rising so thickly off the water that the lake was hidden beneath the fog. It had rained overnight, but it looked as though the sun was beginning to break through the clouds.
Wilspy popped into the bedroom with his first cup of tea of the day.
Albus took the cup from the house-elf. “Thank you, Wilspy.”
Wilspy held out a rolled parchment sealed with green wax. “Letter for you, Professor Dumbledore. From your Professor Minerva.”
“Put it on the night stand for now, Wilspy.”
Albus shuffled off to the bathroom, bringing his tea with him. After taking care of his morning routine and finishing his cup of tea, he returned to the bedroom, feeling more awake. He perched on the edge of the bed and put on his glasses. Perhaps the note from Minerva was another invitation to breakfast; it was difficult to conceive what else might require letter delivery so early in the morning. He was not sure he was ready to face her yet, knowing that Valerianna could very well have said things to Minerva that were calculated to cause him embarrassment. He didn’t know if he were prepared to talk about Valerianna with Minerva – well, he did know, and he wasn’t ready – nor whether he was prepared to spend time with her alone in such an intimately domestic activity as having breakfast. He had decided to spare both himself and Minerva any danger of him betraying his feelings. Or to have those feelings grow beyond what they already were. He had to maintain a simple friendship, he told himself. Simple friendship, uncomplicated by his inappropriate feelings.
He broke the seal on the parchment, and, despite himself, his heart sunk as he read its contents.
“Thursday, 11 July
“Dear Professor Dumbledore,
“I am going to my parents’ for a few days. As you suggested, I am taking the opportunity to spend some time away from the castle.
“I hope you have a pleasant weekend.
“Minerva M. McGonagall”
Brief and to the point. And very cool. A note from an employee to her employer. He sighed and put the letter back on the night stand. She apparently had no desire to spend more time in the castle with him, despite her words the previous morning. It had seemed to him that she had wanted to stay at Hogwarts for much of the summer, and, despite his hope that Minerva would take the opportunity to get out and socialise with a suitable wizard, and his unease with what she had no doubt learned about his relationship with Valerianna, Albus had hoped she would be around the castle during the daytime, when he could see her and spend a little time with her, himself.
Albus shook his head. He should have done that yesterday. Minerva had been there and available. And she had invited him to spend time with her. Too late now.
Not putting much thought into his choice of apparel, Albus dressed, putting on lightweight robes of lilac and indigo. Odd, that Minerva hadn’t mentioned anything to him about visiting her parents the night before, when they had met as he’d been on his way to post his letter to Gertie. Perhaps that was why Minerva had invited him to take a walk with her, she was going to tell him then. But she could have told him just as easily as they were standing there in the hall. Instead, she had simply hurried off. He looked at the letter again. She must have left immediately after they had talked. It was peculiar. Minerva had seemed so eager to stay yesterday. Something must have changed that. Her visit to Poppy – had they talked about Valerianna? Had the two of them had quite a giggle about the old wizard who had made a fool of himself? But Minerva seemed to think Valerianna was quite unlikeable . . . they probably had speculated about what he had seen in her, what had caused him to be with a witch of her ilk. He had wondered that, himself, at the time.
Albus spent the morning trying to work, but was unsuccessful at getting very much accomplished. Lunch was a quiet affair with only Wilhelmina taking lunch in the staff room with him. Johannes was visiting friends for the day, and Hagrid apparently had had a rather late night and wasn’t up yet. Albus thought he should speak with Hagrid if he didn’t snap out of his mood soon. He would give him another few days before interfering, though. But Minerva . . . he couldn’t give that situation another few days. He had to learn what was on her mind, and if her opinion of him had been lowered now that she knew of his brief relationship with Valerianna. Albus didn’t care terribly what others might think about his ill-advised entanglement with the witch, even if he did prefer not to have his private life the subject of public speculation, but he didn’t want Minerva to think less of him. Her opinion was the only one that mattered to him, as foolish as that was.
It shouldn’t matter to him, of course. He should simply concern himself with her happiness, and her happiness certainly didn’t rely on her opinion of him. No, he should see to it that she had the opportunity to get out and meet a nice wizard. Quin, despite Minerva’s protestations, sounded perfect for her. He was attractive, successful, a good father; they would complement one another well.
Nonetheless, Albus didn’t think that he could wait to find out what was bothering Minerva. Telling Wilhelmina that he would be gone, possibly for the rest of the day, and asking her to watch the castle, he returned to his office and picked up the applications for the Care of Magical Creatures Position. There were only four, including one that had arrived that morning, but it would provide him an excuse to visit her. She might ask why he didn’t simply owl them, but he could talk to her about what criteria he wanted her to look for when reviewing the applications.
Albus walked down to the gates and Apparated to the McGonagalls, just as Minerva had the night before.
“Minerva! What a wonderful surprise!” Egeria exclaimed when Minerva walked into the library looking for her parents.
“Hello, Mother.” Minerva kissed her cheek. “Where’s Dad?”
“His study, I think – he got up muttering something about Saxon phonemes a few minutes ago, and you know how he is when he gets like that. He could be two minutes or two hours. But what about you? How long are you here for?”
“Oh, just a few days”
“We thought that you wouldn’t be visiting for another couple of weeks – not that I’m not happy to see you, of course, dear, but what are you doing here?”
“I just needed a few more days away from Hogwarts, Mother. I don’t know if you’ve heard from Melina, but I was invited to the Gamps for a few days, and –”
“Oh! Were you there when the Yaxley woman announced her engagement?”
“Yes, Mother. But there wasn’t much more to it than the Prophet reported, I’m sure.”
“What a pity. I was wondering what Florence Flint’s daughter had been doing since her husband died.”
“You know her? She’s a Flint?”
“I knew her mother; she was four years ahead of me in Slytherin. Beautiful girl. She left school after her OWLs and married Benjamin Crouch two weeks later. Valerianna was born nine months after that. They were quick about it!”
“But if her mother was a Flint . . . she must be related to Francis. She must be an older relative of his.” Minerva’s face was a picture of revulsion.
“We all intermarry, dear, some families more than others, of course.”
“Yes, but . . .”
“I was Francis’s mother’s midwife. She was a Longbottom. His father was Valerianna’s cousin on her mother’s side. I don’t think he was a first cousin, though. Perhaps a first cousin once removed? No . . .” Egeria knit her brow, trying to remember how Francis’s father was related to Valerianna.
“Still . . .” Minerva shuddered.
“But tell me, what brings you home?”
“Yes, Min! What brings you home?” asked her father from behind her.
“Dad!” Minerva turned and smiled at her father.
Merwyn gave his youngest child a hug. “What’s my Minnie-girl doing home?”
“I just needed some time away from the school, that’s all.”
“A long first term, then?” he asked sympathetically.
She grinned wryly. “You could say that, Dad. And the last week has been particularly long, despite the students’ having left more than two weeks ago.”
Merwyn gave her another hug, then said, “The comforts of home will have you feeling like yourself in no time, then, Min, won’t they, Egeria?”
“They certainly will,” she said as she stood. “Sweetness, why don’t you go on up and get ready for bed, and I’ll come in and say good-night in a bit, hmm?”
“All right, Mother,” Minerva said with a slight smile. Sometimes it was nice to come home and be treated like a little girl again. She hugged her mother tightly and felt tears well up in her eyes; she blinked them away and swallowed before letting go. “Good night, Dad.”
“’Night, Minnie-girl.” He gave her another kiss before she left, then turned to his wife.
“Ah, Egeria.” Merwyn took his wife in his arms, and she laid her head on his shoulder.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, love?” she asked.
“Probably. I had wondered how long it would take . . .”
“Do you think her heart is broken, then?”
“I don’t know . . . I hope not. Not yet, I don’t think. If her heart were broken, I think she would appear more distressed, and I don’t think this is where she would go.”
“Where, then, if not home?”
“A friend . . . Melina, perhaps.”
Egeria nodded and sighed. “I’ll go up and see her. Maybe she’ll talk to me about it.”
“You can try, but you know our Min. Don’t be disappointed if she behaves as if nothing were wrong at all.”
“It’s not inevitable, is it, Merwyn? That our baby’s heart will be broken?”
“I don’t know. It needn’t be, but she is not the only one involved, after all.” Merwyn gave his wife a light kiss, then followed it by another, and for a moment, the two forgot what they had been talking about. “Mmm. That was nice. I look forward to more of the same later.”
Egeria laughed. “If you are still awake when I come to bed, I will most certainly look forward to more!”
After Egeria left, Merwyn poured himself a whisky and sat in his favourite wingchair, feet up in front of him. Had this been inevitable? He was flooded with memories from years ago. Minerva’s Animagus training, meeting Albus in the Three Broomsticks, teasing Minerva about unrequited love, and then Albus’s letter requesting Minerva’s early return to Hogwarts.
Merwyn smiled, remembering Minerva’s excitement and nervousness about returning to Hogwarts a few days before the term began. And then Albus arrived to Apparate her back to the school . . .
Minerva had always been very bad at Side-Along-Apparition, almost invariably becoming sick to her stomach. But Albus performed some type of diagnostic spell on Merwyn, because Apparating with him wasn’t as hard on Minerva as Apparating with others was, then Albus repeated the spell on her. Minerva later told them that she hadn’t become sick at all. But that was not what had been so remarkable about the Apparition. Merwyn remembered how Albus told Minerva to step closer to him and listen to his heart; without hesitation, Merwyn’s normally reticent daughter stepped in and laid her head against the wizard’s chest, closing her eyes trustingly, a look of contentment on her face as she listened for Albus’s heartbeat, and a slight smile on Albus’s own. There was something right, natural, and timeless in their embrace.
After the two vanished in the only silent Apparition Merwyn ever witnessed, Egeria said, “I thought you were just teasing about the unrequited love.”
“So did I.”
“Do you think either of them knows?”
“Not a clue, either of them.”
“What should we do, Merwyn?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing to be done . . . but don’t worry, love, I believe Albus to be an honourable wizard.”
They stood there for a while longer, pondering their youngest child, their only daughter, then turned to go back into the house.
“So, on which side do you think it is unrequited?” Egeria asked.
Merwyn just shook his head and said, “We may never know. It may pass. She is young yet, and I am sure that Albus has no intentions toward her at the moment. Certainly none that he recognises, anyway, other than those of a mentor and teacher. It may all pass quite peacefully and unremarkably.”
“But you don’t believe that,” Egeria said.
“If she takes after you, no, I don’t.”
“Or after you, Merwyn.”
And then, three and a half years later, Minerva showed up on their doorstep, telling them only that she was taking time off from her job at the Ministry. She went to her friend’s funeral, and a couple days later, Albus arrived on their doorstep asking to speak with Minerva. Whatever transpired between them upset them both, but didn’t destroy whatever tie there was between them. Merwyn and Egeria watched their daughter as she continued in her career at the Ministry, then gone on to her apprenticeships, and returned to work for the Ministry after she achieved her Transfiguration mastery. In all that time, Minerva occasionally had boyfriends, and at one point, her parents believed that she might marry an Apothecary she met during her apprenticeship in Heidelberg, but she returned from the apprenticeship and rarely mentioned him again. And then she took the job at Hogwarts, and her mother began to worry about her only daughter, to worry that she was destined for unhappiness at the school, that whatever Minerva sought there, she would never find. But Minerva was an adult witch, and she had never spoken to them of Albus as anything other than as a teacher and mentor, so Egeria did not raise her worries with her daughter.
Minerva woke the next morning, slightly confused at first about where she was, then she recognised her childhood bedroom. Egeria had redecorated it in the intervening years, but it still held the same mahogany furniture she had grown up with, and the same pictures hung on the walls. They were Muggle pictures, one painting and one etching, very old ones inherited from her father’s grandparents. When she was small, Minerva used to be fascinated by the small, frozen characters in the etching, wondering what they might say or do next. It was far more fun to imagine it than to watch them in a magical painting, she thought.
Minerva dressed in robes with a subtle green, gold, and sienna pattern of leaves and branches woven through the fabric, then went down to breakfast. To her surprise, she felt well-rested, and she didn’t remember any of her dreams. She barely even remembered going to bed the night before. She smiled. Her mother had been so sweet, coming upstairs, practically tucking her into bed. Of course, she had tried to find a more specific reason for Minerva’s unexpected visit home, and Minerva told her part of the truth. The party at the Gamps had been interesting, and parts of it had been enjoyable, but dealing with all of those strangers, many of them unpleasant, for three days had been tiring, and she wanted to be somewhere she felt comfortable and at ease, and where she didn’t have to constantly either second-guess what someone was telling her or watch every word she said. When her mother asked her if she weren’t comfortable at Hogwarts, Minerva had simply shrugged and said that it wasn’t the same as home, and most of the staff were on holiday, Poppy included. She then mentioned her visit with Poppy that afternoon and their tentative plans to get together the next week to celebrate the mediwitch’s thirtieth birthday.
During breakfast, Minerva asked her mother about her work, then told her about Thea, Robert’s wife. “I don’t know how much time you have, but I told Robert and Gertrude that I would see if you could check Thea over and see if there was anything you could recommend. She’s been on bed-rest since they learned she was pregnant again, and Robert said she’d seen a few different Healers, but he would really appreciate your opinion, given your experience and expertise. He said that he was sure he could arrange Portkeys for both you and Dad.”
Egeria smiled. “It’s been a long time since your father and I were in Amsterdam. Before you were born, actually. We could take a few days and make a holiday of it. The two of us have become a little set in our ways – Edinburgh, Aberdeen, and Inverness, with the occasional outing to Hogsmeade. We only visited London because you and Melina were there. Now that you’re both in Scotland again – this would be a good opportunity for us to do something different. I think Merwyn has an old friend in Ghent we could look up, too. It sounds like an excellent exchange – they provide the Portkeys, and we get a holiday out of it.”
“I’m sure they anticipate a fee . . .”
“Pish! As though I need any fees. Most of the work I do now, you know, is for families that don’t have the advantages that we’ve taken for granted. Good families. I don’t insult them by waiving my fees entirely, of course, but we work out exchanges. I’m more than happy to do this for your friend. I knew his father, Reginald, after all – your father did, too – though I only know his mother by sight, or I used to, fifty years ago. And early in his career, Merwyn had quite a correspondence with Agyfen Gamp, Gertrude’s grandfather. Merwyn credits him with helping him become established and accepted as a scholar, despite his unorthodox ideas. So I’m happy to do a favour for Robert and his wife.”
“All right, Mother. I’ll fetch their contact information for you after breakfast. Where is Dad?”
“Having a lie-in. We were up late last night. I can’t sleep late if I try, but I’ll probably catch a nap later today.”
“You know, Mother, your mention of Aberdeen and Inverness reminded me that I haven’t seen either Morgan or Malcolm in months, nor Uncle Perseus and Aunt Helen. I wonder if they’d be up for a visit today. I wouldn’t want to impose . . .”
“The last time I visited Uncle Perseus and Aunt Helen, they both said they would love to see you again soon. Just send them an owl now – find out if it’s convenient for you to pop around today. You could drop in on Malcolm, as well. I worry about him – at least it appears he’s settled down in one place for a while.”
Minerva grinned, thinking of her peripatetic oldest brother. “All right, Mother, I’ll check on Malcolm for you, make sure he’s wearing clean socks and eating his veg.”
She got up from the breakfast table to write a note to her Great-uncle Perseus and Helen, his wife, and find the funny little owl of her father’s to carry it. Minerva met her father on the stairs and just smiled at him, knowing he wouldn’t be up to speaking until he’d had his tea.
Two hours later, the little owl was back with an enthusiastic invitation from Aunt Helen to pop around for lunch and stay for the afternoon so they could catch up on everything Minerva had been doing since last they saw her. She asked Minerva to stop off and fetch Malcolm for lunch, as well.
Minerva gathered two bunches of flowers from her mother’s gardens, one for Malcolm and one for Aunt Helen and Uncle Perseus. She gave Egeria and Merwyn each a kiss, and Apparated off to Aberdeen, feeling more normal and ordinary than she had in weeks.
Egeria and Merwyn were just finishing their lunch when there was a rapping on their front door. A moment later, Fwisky popped in to tell them that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had arrived to see Miss Minerva, should she send him away since Minerva was not there?
“No, no, Fwisky. I’ll just go see him, myself.” Merwyn turned to Egeria. “Should I invite him to stay for the afternoon and take tea with us, love?”
“Excellent idea, Merwyn. Excellent.”
Merwyn found Albus standing awkwardly in the front hall, examining a portrait as though it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
“Albus, so good to see you! Sorry that Fwisky left you here. She was at a bit of a loss of what to do, as Minerva isn’t here, you see.”
“She isn’t? But she left a note –” Albus said, puzzled.
“Oh, she was here, and she will return. She’s just popped around to visit a few relatives this afternoon. But why don’t you stay! Egeria asked that I invite you to stay this afternoon and take tea with us later. You and I could catch up; it’s been so long. Do you play chess at all?”
“Yes, I do, but I couldn’t impose on you –”
“No imposition at all, Albus, none whatsoever,” Merwyn said, putting a friendly hand on Albus’s shoulder. “And I know that Minerva would be disappointed to learn she’d missed you. Besides, I rarely have a decent game of chess anymore. Minerva’s quite good, my favourite opponent, in fact, but we hardly play anymore, as you can imagine.”
Merwyn had guided Albus into the library.
“I don’t know. I only came by to leave these for Minerva,” Albus said, holding out a file of parchments. “I thought she might like to get a jump on reviewing them. But, of course, I don’t want to interrupt her holiday. I should just be going. Don’t bother telling her I was here – she deserves a holiday, after all. It was inconsiderate of me to bring her work.”
“She’s very devoted to Hogwarts, though. I’m sure she won’t mind. And I know she would be disappointed that she missed you. And I will be disappointed if you leave now, as well. Not to mention that Egeria will have my head if I tell her I couldn’t get you to stay for tea,” Merwyn said jokingly. “Of course, I know you are a busy wizard, if you need to get back to Hogwarts . . .”
“No, I could stay a little while, I suppose.” Albus smiled. “And a game of chess would be agreeable.”
“Good, very good! I’ll just go and let Egeria know I’ve prevailed upon you to stay for tea. Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be only a minute.”
Albus settled into a wingchair by the fireplace. The last time he had been alone in the room had been over a decade ago, when he’d come to give Carson’s letter to Minerva. That had been an unhappy visit. No point in dwelling on it now, however. It was in the past.
Merwyn returned. “We’re all set! Egeria is very pleased you’ll be staying for tea. She has to go out for a little while right now – checking on a patient – but she will be back in a couple hours. Plenty of time for some chess!”
Merwyn walked over to the cabinets behind the long table at one end of the room. “Muggle or regular?”
“Hmm?” Albus looked up questioningly.
“Muggle chessmen or regular ones?”
“You have your father’s set?” Albus asked. “Why don’t we play with that one, then – chessmen can be so temperamental sometimes.”
Merwyn grinned. “I feel the same way, actually. I like to concentrate on the game, and possibly on conversation, not on appeasing a disgruntled pawn or a grumbling bishop!”
Merwyn Summoned the chess table and set it in front of Albus, then drew up his chair across from him. “Do you prefer white or black?”
“Either – we can switch off, if you like.”
“Very well. Here, you take white to start.”
The two wizards played in silence for a while. Merwyn had called Fwisky, who had brought them some cold lemonade. Albus was contemplating what move he could make that would not result in his king being placed in check the next move when Merwyn spoke.
“Minerva seems to enjoy her teaching,” he said.
“Yes, I think she does. I hope she does, after leaving her career in London to come to Hogwarts.”
“It suits her,” Merwyn responded, his statement sounding almost like a question.
“Yes, she was quite a successful tutor as a student, and, of course, her skills in Transfiguration are among the best I have seen.”
The men were silent for a few minutes until Merwyn said, “Check and mate.”
Albus smiled, sitting back and looking at the board. “Very good. Very good, indeed.” He looked up with a grin. “Best two out of three?”
“Why not? Or three out of five, if we have the time.” Merwyn set up his white pieces. “If, of course, you don’t get tired of being beaten before then!” he said, grinning at Albus.
“Never . . . and we shall see who beats whom!”
The next game was slower, and when Albus began chasing Merwyn’s king around the board, only a single castle and a knight left to defend it, Merwyn tipped over his king with a flick of his index finger. “You have this one, Albus.”
They set up for a third game, and Albus made his opening gambit, when Merwyn said, “You know, Minerva’s quite good. Do you ever play chess with her? No? A pity. She always enjoys a good game. She can still beat me occasionally, although she doesn’t get in the practice she’d need to do so consistently. Perhaps you could keep her in trim, Albus . . . if you have the time for leisure activities, of course.”
“I’m sure she could find a more congenial chess partner.”
“I doubt it,” Merwyn said, taking a pawn en passant. “She likes a challenge. I am sure you could provide her with a challenge.” He grinned. “Of course, with Minerva, sometimes you have to be a little ruthless and a bit obvious – make sure she understands what you are offering. Then she’ll engage you with everything in her.”
Albus looked up from the chessboard. Merwyn was examining the pieces, trying to decide his next move.
“She can be determined,” Albus answered, wondering what Merwyn was on about.
“Quite. But sometimes she needs a prod or two to start her in the right direction. Not in chess, of course . . .”
They played in silence for a bit longer, Merwyn winning, though not easily. “You really do present a challenge, Albus. You should play with Minerva. I’m sure she would enjoy it. Best three out of five?”
Albus agreed.
“Drink, Albus? I have some very nice whisky, unless you’d prefer something else – sherry, gilly water?”
Albus hesitated. He’d only had tea for his breakfast and had barely touched his lunch. Alcohol would likely go straight to his head. “I don’t know –”
“Here, I’ll pour you a wee dram. And just so you don’t think I’m merely trying to gain an edge over you, I’ll pour myself a wee bit more!”
“I haven’t really eaten much today –” Albus began.
“Oh, we can fix that. Fwisky!” Merwyn asked Fwisky to bring some hard-boiled eggs, cream crackers, and cheese.
“Egeria will be displeased if I spoil your appetite too much, not to mention that I’m not forcing fruit and vegetables down your throat, but this should keep us going until tea.”
As they played their more leisurely fourth game, Albus nibbled on the crackers and cheese, sipping the second glass of whisky Merwyn poured him after he’d finished the first one.
“Oh, doxiedung!” Merwyn exclaimed as he realised he’d made a foolish move. He grimaced.
Albus moved in for the kill, mating him in two more moves. He looked up, grinning. “Seems your whisky has a friendlier effect on my game than on yours, Merwyn.”
“Hmmpf. Why don’t we take a break for a bit? Egeria should be back soon – in fact, I think I hear her now,” he said as the crack of someone Apparating into the front hall reached them.
Sure enough, the door to the library opened and Egeria came in. “Albus! It is so good to see you again. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you earlier, but I was running a bit late.” She sat down in her favourite armchair. “I could use one of those, Merwyn. Just a little, though. Less than you’ve had, judging by the gleam in your eye and the glow to your cheek.”
“How do you know I’m not just particularly happy to see you, love?” Merwyn asked, bending to give his wife a kiss as he handed her a small glass of whisky.
“Mmm, flatterer!” Egeria said to her husband. “So, Albus, tell us all about Hogwarts. How is Minerva doing? Settling in well?”
“Hogwarts is doing just fine, although we are experiencing quite a few staff changes in a very short time. Minerva is assisting me, in fact. We need to find a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher before the end of December.”
“Care of Magical Creatures? Minerva didn’t take a NEWT in that.”
“No, but finding a competent teacher doesn’t necessarily mean she needs to be an expert, herself. She’s just selecting the most likely candidates, weeding out the unsuitable ones.”
“I’m sure she was pleased to be asked to lend you a hand with that,” Egeria said.
“Yes –” Albus hesitated. “I don’t know if Minerva mentioned it to you, but our current Magical Creatures teacher is also Head of Gryffindor House. I have asked her to consider taking it, but she hasn’t come to a decision yet.”
“No, she didn’t mention that, but we haven’t had much time to talk. She arrived very late last night, and this morning we were discussing other things – some of the people she’d met while at the Gamps, actually.” Egeria noticed that Albus stiffened slightly when she said that.
“Oh, yes?” Albus asked politely.
“Yes, Gertrude’s son, Robert, in particular.”
Albus relaxed. “Ah, Robert. A good boy.”
“Yes, I understand that his wife has had certain medical problems. I owled them this morning. I thought I would see if there’s anything I could add to the care she is currently receiving, or at least reassure them, if I am able to.”
Albus smiled. “I am sure they will be very happy to have your opinion. That is very good of you.”
“Selfish of me, as well, Albus.” Egeria looked at Merwyn, who was listening to the conversation with a slight smile. “I can drag my husband away from his books for a few days’ holiday – someplace other than Edinburgh, Aberdeen, and Inverness, as I told Minerva this morning. Well, I need to consult with Fwisky about tea. You two continue doing whatever it is two wizards do when there are no witches around!”
Egeria kissed the top of her husband’s head on her way past him. “Don’t forget that I need to speak to you about that other business, dear.”
“Of course, love,” Merwyn said, not betraying that he had no clue what his wife was talking about. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
After Egeria had left, closing the door behind her, Merwyn asked, “Start another game, Albus?”
“All right – unless you’d prefer to wait until you’ve seen your wife? I hope I’m not disrupting your schedule.”
“I have no schedule. Well, I do, but it’s more of a rut than a schedule, as Egeria would tell you, if she were here. I always disagree with her about that, of course, but your visit has honestly been a delightful diversion.” He started setting up the board again.
They sat in companionable silence and began their fifth game. After a few minutes, Merwyn said, “You can take this opportunity to plan your complete victory over me while I take a minute and see Egeria. Another whisky?”
Albus shook his head. He was glad he was staying for tea. He doubted he’d drunk enough to Splinch if he Apparated, but it was best not to take such a chance. Albus leaned back and considered the board over steepled fingers. His mind soon wandered back to his reason for being here this afternoon – Minerva and whatever had motivated her to leave Hogwarts so unexpectedly and so late at night. Whatever it was, if it did involve him, it didn’t appear that she had told her parents. Or if she had, it was something to do with Valeriana and they had already known what she had told them. It wasn’t precisely a secret that he’d been seeing the witch – he disliked using the term “courting” with regard to Valerianna – and that they had stopped seeing each other very precipitously. It was possible that they – or Egeria, at least – had known something of it.
Merwyn returned quickly. “So, you have planned your entire strategy while I’ve been gone, eh, Albus?”
“Hardly.” He looked at the younger wizard, a rueful grin on his face. “I will be unsurprised regardless which of us wins this game. You are very good, Merwyn.”
“Not a particularly practical talent, however.”
Several moves later, after Merwyn had sacrificed one of his bishops in order to place Albus in check on his next move, Merwyn said casually, “You know, Albus, I have something you might be interested in seeing.”
“Really?” Albus’s brow was knit in concentration, trying to find a way to use Merwyn’s attack against him.
“Yes – in my study, actually.”
“Are you forfeiting?” Albus asked with a smile.
“No, just suggesting a temporary cease-fire and adjournment to my study until tea is ready, which should be in about twenty minutes.”
Albus stood and stretched, anticipating some rare and interesting manuscript that Merwyn had recently acquired. “Very well; I can finish beating you after tea just as easily.”
Merwyn laughed and led Albus up one flight of stairs and then to the back of the house to his study, which was a picture of scholarly disarray. He waved his wand and cleared a place for Albus to sit, settling the books that had been piled on the chair on the top of a large stack in the corner of the room. Albus wondered how Merwyn could find anything in the apparent disorder, but Merwyn opened a drawer in his desk, removed some papers and parchments, then pulled out a single parchment from the bottom of the drawer.
“Here it is.” He didn’t hand it to Albus immediately. “We received an owl about twelve years ago, I think it was September. The contents took us by surprise, initially. I thought Egeria was going to pass out, in fact. But on closer examination, I realised that it had been written several months before, in early January, and it had probably been posted inadvertently by someone at the Ministry after the change in administrations.”
“What is it?” Albus asked curiously.
“It is a letter that Minerva wrote us. We believe that she wrote it to be sent in case of her death. She is unaware that we received it. It seemed inadvisable at the time, and since then, we simply haven’t had an opportunity to mention it. I think you will find it interesting.”
Albus looked at him sharply. “I do not believe it would be appropriate for me to read a letter that she never intended for me and, indeed, that she did not even intend to be sent at all.”
“There is a portion of it that pertains to you, Albus, and contains a message for you. I think that it is something you should read.” Merwyn held out the letter.
“I don’t know . . .” Albus’s curiosity warred with his sense of propriety. Knowing that Minerva had mentioned him in the letter had heightened his curiosity. She must have written it before leaving for France and her rescue of him. The memory of that recalled once more his visit to Minerva in this very house. He had always regretted the way he had handled the situation, although he could never determine what he might have said or done differently, given his state of mind at the time.