Mates
Minerva found herself yawning after dinner. Melina could be quite exhausting to be around sometimes. When she had come by late in the afternoon, full of boundless energy and enthusiasm, she spent more than an hour in the garden with Minerva, telling her all about all of the wonderful things that she and Brennan had been doing in the last few days since Albus had cast the various spells that permitted Brennan to experience the wizarding world and that allowed Melina to talk about it with him without violating any of the Muggle Protection laws. She begged Minerva to come out with her that Saturday morning to look at flats. She had three appointments set up to look at flats owned by wizarding landlords that were in Muggle districts. She now wanted a flat to which she could not only invite Brennan and his Muggle friends, but which she and Brennan could share after they were married.
“Oh, and one of the landlords says he knows you, Minerva. Rather nice chap, heard from him this afternoon – Irish, like Brennan, so maybe he’ll be sympathetic to our plight. Young couple and all, just getting started. I know that Brennan has his own shop, but he’s got some fierce competition, and he sometimes seems to work around the clock –”
“Wait, wait, wait, Melina,” Minerva said, holding up her hand. Finally getting Melina to stop talking for a minute, Minerva continued, “Someone I know? Irish? What’s his name? What does he look like?”
“Oh, I don’t know what he looks like. We’ve only communicated by owl. His name is ‘MacAirt,’ like the Divination teacher at Hogwarts. S’pose they’re related? Is that how you know him? What’s he like? Would he be a decent landlord?”
“Melina, I honestly don’t know how you expect me to answer any of your questions when you keep talking at me like that! I think it must be Quin. I mentioned him to you –”
“No, his name wasn’t ‘Quin’; it was Cormac. I remember because I thought it was a funny name for a real person to have – Cormac mac Airt – and his seal was a cup with a crack in it.”
“That’s Quin.” At Melina’s puzzled look, Minerva added, “He goes by his middle name with friends.”
“I can see why – I almost asked him if he was bringing his cup along with him. He must get those jokes all the time.”
“I imagine so,” Minerva said, giving up trying to figure out which of Melina’s questions to answer.
“So, would he be a good landlord?”
“I have no idea. Probably.” How much did this man own? Flats in Edinburgh now? And he dealt with such things himself? Seemed dreadfully menial to Minerva. “He wrote you himself?”
“He might be a decent landlord if he’s friends with you – that’s why he owled me himself, he said. He recognised my name. Well, ‘McGonagall,’ anyway. He has an estate agent that he usually goes through, but the estate agent is a Squib, and he runs all of the wizarding applicants by Mr MacAirt first, and that’s how he learned I wanted to look at a flat, because he uses Ferguson’s, the same estate agents I visited.”
Well, that was a relief. “I see – probably wants to check on them and make sure they wouldn’t be undesirable tenants in some way.”
“Mmm. But I gather from Mr Shycross – that’s the estate agent – that Ferguson’s rent mostly to Muggles. They just run the adverts in the Prophet as a matter of course if a flat is adaptable for both Muggle and wizarding use, but there’s not a lot of call for these flats in Edinburgh; most of them are let to Muggles, who are none the wiser. Their other offices in London and Glasgow do more business with wizards, apparently. I’d only inquired about one flat that Mr MacAirt had advertised through this agency, but he recommended I look at another one, as well. It’s closer to McTavish Street, he said, and hasn’t been advertised yet. The other flat that Mr Shycross scheduled me to look at is owned by a Squib, actually. He and his wife have the flat below, and we’d be above them.”
“That doesn’t sound ideal. Unless they are particularly nice people, and tolerant. Living in the same building as your landlord can be . . . uncomfortable,” Minerva said, remembering the time she thought the very nice landlady would be wonderful to live downstairs from, but she regretted the move almost from her first night there. Minerva was what most would consider an ideal tenant – polite, quiet, studious, paid her rent on time – but this landlady, who was very nosy, didn’t seem to think so.
“Well, I’ll look at all three,” Melina said. “We don’t have to find anything immediately. We aren’t getting married until the end of August, anyway.”
“Next month?!”
“Yes, don’t look at me like that, Min – Minerva. We are sure of it. And it will make things easier for Brennan. He couldn’t talk to anyone in McTavish Street, it turned out, unless I spoke to them first and made a sort of introduction. It was very awkward. And I obviously couldn’t leave him on his own there. Couldn’t even turn my back on him, poor man! Anyway, we can always stay in his flat until we find something. It would simply be lovely to start life with our own place, you know? At least a flat. Brennan is saying we should look to be buying eventually, but I don’t know . . .”
“Can you afford to keep up two places? Wouldn’t it be wiser to find something that you can take in November? Perhaps even put off the wedding until then. You’ll have known him a year then, and you can –”
“No. We don’t want to wait. And I have a good deal put by, since I’ve been living almost rent-free since moving back up from London last year. Dad won’t hear of me paying rent, although I contribute to the household expenses. And now that I’m a fully-qualified Healer, my pay packet is quite a bit larger than it was.”
“It’s not just the money, Melina – although I’d like to know how much this Ferguson’s charges in fees – it’s that it is a major decision and will entail a large change in both your lives. And if Brennan has been a bachelor all these years, it could be quite difficult for him to suddenly share his life with someone else.”
“Oh, there’s no fee unless we actually apply for a flat. And I know you are only thinking of me and my happiness, Minerva, but Brennan and I are not children. We have talked about all of this and we will continue to talk about it. And he’s not always lived alone – and yes, I know it’s not the same as sharing your life with a spouse – but I think we will be fine. I know we will be. And because I know you are probably wondering, I am not pregnant and that’s not why we are marrying, unlike Grandmother Egeria and Grampa. And that is all I am saying on that matter.” Melina crossed her arms in front of her.
“I actually didn’t think any such thing, Melina. And I don’t care to know any more than you told me.” Minerva shook her head. “Although, have you discussed whether or not you both want children? And have you told Brennan they are likely to be witches or wizards? That could prove quite a challenge for a Muggle to face.”
“We have discussed that. I told him that chances were that any children we had would take after my side of the family in that way. And really, Minerva, as much as I appreciate your concern, it’s not as though we haven’t considered these things. We may be in love, but we haven’t lost our minds!”
“Hmmph. Well, I look forward to seeing Mother’s face when you tell her that she has a month to prepare for your wedding – you do know that she wants to help you with it, don’t you?”
“Of course! But we’re just going to a Muggle registry office –”
“A Muggle marriage? And at a registry office? That’s hardly a wedding! That’s more like . . . like getting your Apparition licence! Mother will go spare when she hears that!”
“If you would let me finish, Auntie Min, I will explain! The registry office wedding will allow us to register the marriage with the Ministry and we can get rid of the final restrictions on Brennan. That’s why we want to do it so soon. And we’ll have a wedding breakfast and whatever else Grandmother Egeria would like, but this also lets us invite all of our friends over here – our Muggle friends – to the wedding. I know, too, that Brennan’s mother would like us to have a church wedding, and we may do that eventually, as well. So there’s no reason we couldn’t have a wizarding ceremony of some sort later on if it would make Grandmother Egeria happy. I would certainly enjoy having another party!” Melina said with a grin.
“You really are set on this, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. You have no idea how happy I am with Brennan. It’s just being with him, sharing life with him . . . it’s hard to describe. I could tell you all of the little things about him that I adore, but it’s not just those things. Even now, just knowing he’s in the world and I will see him again soon . . . I could almost burst with happiness sometimes.” Melina seemed to glow as she spoke.
“Falling in love can be like that in the beginning, Melina. It doesn’t mean the feeling will last,” Minerva answered with a note of caution in her voice.
“I think it will. It’s not just the passion and the racing heart and all that. It’s just him. I wish you understood. I think Grandmother Egeria does. But, well, I suppose that someday, you may, too.”
“What makes you think I don’t understand now? Life does not always work out the way we sometimes wish.” Minerva sighed. “If you are sure and Brennan is sure, I am very happy for you both, and I will do whatever I can to help you out. But a month . . . I don’t know how much help I can be. I have to return to Hogwarts next week for the warding and to be installed as the next Head of Gryffindor House –”
Melina’s shout of congratulations combined with a bone-crushing hug cut off Minerva’s breath and ability to speak.
When Melina finally let go and Minerva was able to speak again, she said with a smile, “I will be very happy to help you, Melina, however I am able to on such a tight schedule.”
“Oh, Minerva, I am so excited! Head of House! I can’t wait to tell everyone! My Aunt Minerva, Head of Gryffindor House!”
“I’d prefer that until it’s a done deed, you not mention it to anyone. Of course, you can tell your father. And Brennan, although he won’t have much idea of its significance –”
“Oh, he’ll have some idea, Min – he read Hogwarts, A History, and said he liked Godric Gryffindor and would have liked to have been a Gryffy if he were a wizard, but he did express appreciation for Hufflepuff.” Melina giggled and blushed, and Minerva could only imagine how he might have expressed his “appreciation.” “I promised him I would try to take him to a Hogwarts Quidditch game. I think it would be a bit difficult, him being a Muggle, to bring him to a league game, but Professor Dumbledore said that after we’re married, I was welcome to bring him to Hogwarts for a tour. We did go to Hogsmeade last week, and he could see the castle, but looking at it made him feel anxious and gave him a migraine. Hopefully once the last of the spells and bindings are cast, he’ll be able to see it without feeling sick. But Gryffindor Head! That’s so exciting! And we’ll both understand if you can’t be very involved in the planning. There won’t be much to do, anyway. And, well, I’ve decided on a small wedding party. That’s one of the things I’m worried about . . . I will invite everyone, of course, but on such short notice.” Melina stopped, suddenly looking apprehensive. “Do you think that people will feel left out if they don’t have some formal role? It is only a registry office marriage, after all.”
“It is your wedding, Melina. And the marriage itself is far more important than the wedding. You should do whatever pleases you.”
“If I do a wizarding ceremony, we could make it a bit grander.” Melina took a deep breath. “Min, do you mind, I’ve asked Jennie to be my maid-of-honour because she has been so good to Brennan and me and she didn’t have to be and she would leave her own flat just for me and –”
Minerva laughed and held up a hand. “Stop, stop, Melina! I don’t mind at all. I meant what I said about doing what pleases you, and I think it is a fine idea to have Jennie be your maid-of-honour. And even though this is a small affair, there will still be a lot that she will be able to help you with that I wouldn’t be available to do. As long as I am invited to celebrate with you, I will be very happy. Are you having a matron-of-honour?”
“I don’t know . . . as I said, it will be small and simple. I know that Grandmother Egeria will want to have a hand in the planning, so I suppose . . .”
“Why don’t you talk to her about that, then? I’m sure she’d do the same for you whether you gave her some special designation or not, and I doubt it’s something she will care particularly about – once she gets over the shock that you are having a Muggle marriage in a registry office, that is! I think you might start your explanation of the wedding by giving your reasons for the timing and such before breaking that particular news to her.”
Melina nodded. “Do you think that Professor Dumbledore could come? He wouldn’t have to do anything, unless he wanted to cast the final binding after the ceremony. We’d still have to register with the Ministry, but I would love to have him do the binding instead of some stranger at the Ministry. Really what I’d like, though, is to have him attend. I know Brennan would, too.”
“I don’t know. You would have to ask him. But school starts on the first, remember, so if it’s too close to the start of the school year, well, obviously I would attend, because I could hardly not, but Dumbledore is a busy wizard, and he will only become busier as the first of September approaches.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. But Head of Gryffindor! I can’t get over it! Do you get anything special with that? More pay, that sort of thing?”
Minerva blushed. She hadn’t even asked about such things. She knew most of the new responsibilities she would be taking on, and they were significant, but she had never asked about compensation or contract term or anything of the sort. She, who was always so pragmatic!
“That’s not why I took the position, Melina. It’s an honour, and I will be able to contribute more to Hogwarts and the students. But I do get rooms in Gryffindor Tower, and I’ll have a separate study in addition to my classroom office, so they are a bit more posh.”
They talked for a while longer, then Orents fetched them for dinner, and conversation around the dinner table centred on Melina’s upcoming marriage, and Egeria was filled with advice for her granddaughter on everything from the wedding breakfast to the guest list to setting up a household to family planning. When her grandmother began to discuss sex and birth control, Melina blushed.
“You do remember that I am a qualified Healer, Grandmother; I really don’t think I need that kind of talk,” she said.
“And as happy I am for Melina and Brennan and as much as I wish them great joy of every kind in their marriage, I really don’t think I want to be privy to this particular conversation, love,” Merwyn added.
Egeria laughed. “All right! But you and I will have a talk later, Melina. There’s more than what you learn from books, you know!”
“All right, Grandmother, if you insist,” Melina said with a smile. “I really appreciate all of your help and advice.”
Minerva stifled another yawn as they all got up from the table. “Melina, I hope you don’t mind, but I am feeling sleepy. I think I’d like to just go upstairs with my books and do some reading. I’ll see you on Saturday morning at the apothecary – nine o’clock, right? – and we can talk more then. And I’m sure Mother will fill me in on any details I miss. Would you mind terribly?”
“Of course not! I think this is a conversation I’d rather have privately, anyway, if it goes in the direction of, um, family matters,” Melina answered.
Minerva chuckled. “Good. I’ll see you in a few days, then.”
She wished her mother and father good-night, then returned to the library to find the two books that she and her father had found earlier in the day. Minerva picked up the books and the proofs, and went upstairs to her bedroom. After getting ready for bed, she picked up the first book and noticed there was a bit of folded parchment marking a page in the book. Paying attention to which page had been marked before removing it, Minerva unfolded the parchment and read a note from her father.
“Min,
“There are only a few paragraphs of interest in this book, but in the second book, there several pages that I found quite fascinating, and I believe you will, too. Of course, they are anecdotal accounts, and as such, should be taken with a grain or two of salt, but there is likely a kernel of truth to them.
“I also remember that we have a book somewhere with more information on wandlore in general, although I think it has more to do with choice of woods and cores, with only a cursory mention of twins, brothers, and mates. I will try to find it for you.
“It’s good to have you home for a while, Minnie-girl!
“Dad”
Minerva curled up in bed with the books, deciding to read the few paragraphs in the first book before looking at the anecdotal accounts in the second book. Her father had been correct, though, and the information in the first book echoed everything that she already had learned from Albus, adding only a few intriguing notes that the author, unfortunately, did not expand upon.
“Bearers of mated wands, as those of twins and brothers, may also find that their wands cannot be turned on one another, but that they are able to accomplish great things while working together. Although this phenomenon might be expected from twin and brother wands, that effect has actually not been observed from brothers and twins. It is said that those possessing mated wands are able to amplify the effect of any spells they cast if they cast those spells in unison; indeed, it has been suggested that the mere presence of a mated wand in proximity to a spell cast through the other will be sufficient to affect the outcome of the spell. There have, however, been no definitive studies of this purported amplification effect that would quantify, or even prove, that such an effect exists.
“There are theories regarding the origin or cause of this effect – if it does, indeed, exist – ranging from the sympathy between the woods to the natural resonance of the spell caster’s magic with that of the holder of the wand’s mate. We shall not explore these theories in this volume, however, as, until there is further study of the phenomenon, any such theories must remain pure speculation, possibly even lying in the realm of fantasy.”
Minerva quickly flipped through the book using an indexing spell, searching to see if she could find any more information on magical resonance, but the only references to it were with regard to ordinary wands and how a wand is theorised to choose its owner, with one short footnote explaining that the resonance discussed with regard to wand and wand-bearer was to be understood as identical to the resonance involved in casting personal, individualised wards. Her father had been correct. The book had not been particularly helpful, although at least it confirmed the substance of what Albus had told her. Any wizarding child whose home had Anti-Apparition wards on it that allowed members of the family through had at least a rudimentary understanding of magical resonance before even beginning school, although they didn’t usually think of it that way. Minerva hadn’t even thought about the way in which the magical resonance between individuals might affect spells, though. She wondered whether it had any applications in Defence . . . if one understood the resonance of one’s opponent . . . but that was completely irrelevant at the moment.
It was odd that she hadn’t really thought about the relationship between the magical resonances of individuals before now. After all, Albus had cast those diagnostic spells on her and her father before her first Side-Along Apparition with him. Given that her magic was apparently in some kind of harmony with Albus’s magic, however, it was likely that he could have cast the diagnostic only on her, and not on her father, and still have learned enough from it. Although casting it on them both may have given him the key that had made that Side-Along not only comfortable, but easy and seemingly effortless.
Minerva found that her father had marked the pages in the other, older book with his Bookmark Charm, and the book fell open to the pertinent pages. Looking at the first paragraphs, she thought it would be a dull read.
“Tales abound of the Tragedies and Triumphs of those who have held Brother Wands, and who has not heard at least the Story of the Tragedy of the Twin Wands held by Mopsus and Calchus, and the Calamities that befell them, but to hear a Story of Mated Wands is rare, indeed, for Mates are shrouded even further in Mystery and Shadow than those other Related Wands.
“It is said that Mates will wait Years before choosing their Witch or Wizard, biding their Time until the Magic of the One for whom they wait finally calls to them, interfering with all other Wands. It is even said that if a Wizard nears the Mated Wand which awaits him, his own Wand will fail, subsiding in deference to the Power of the Mate. While this is likely mere Fancy, there can be no Doubt that Fate drives the Mates into the Proper Hands that will wield them, just as She places Brothers with those whose Destinies are intertwined.
“It is unconfirmed although highly likely that Brothers Crispin and Crispinian held Mated Wands, and those who were Healed by the Brothers confirmed that the most Powerful Magic was performed when the two worked together. Even after their famous Falling Out over Ancelin, daughter of Felix, their Patron, the two Brothers continued to work together for the Good of Others, although some say their Skill at Healing was wounded by the Injury to their Relationship, and there is little Doubt that Ancelin, in her Despair at the Rift which she created between the previously Loving Siblings, retreated from the World and spent her Days in Solitude and Contemplation. Thus these Mated Wands brought both Tragedy and Triumph to those whose Lives they touched.
“The Tale of Timothy and Esmeralda, for those who are familiar with it, is one of far Greater Sadness, all must agree. These Young Lovers, kept apart by their Tyrannical Fathers, Sylvanius and Fabian, came together one Final Time and used their Mated Wands to bring about the collapse of Fabian’s Great Hall, dying together beneath its Stones as they could not live without one another. Many a Poet, both Wizarding and Muggle, has been inspired by this Tragic Romance of Timothy and Esmeralda!
“And no Collection of Stories of Mated Wands would be complete without the Tragic Tale of Clothilde, the Victim of Vengeance and Greed. Claudius, Father of this Sweet Maiden, grew in his Hatred and Envy of Livius, his Rival in all things, and determined he would discover a way to undermine his Enemy. Claudius, in his Sureness that his Knowledge and Acuity were unsurpassed and without Fault, brought the Wandmaker Apodis to his Home and directed him to provide Clothilde with a Wand well-matched to the Wand of Livius, believing in his Hubris that he could use his Daughter as a Tool against his Rival to undermine all his Endeavors. Apodis, skilled Wandmaker, produced a Wand of shining red Wood, saying that this Wand was a Perfect Mate to the Wand of Livius. Claudius, believing himself Wily and Sly, made a Pretence of Peace with Livius and as a Symbol of this Truce, he offered his Daughter’s hand in Marriage to his former Rival. Livius, taken by the Maiden’s Purity and Beauty, accepted Most Readily, but remained with Suspicion of Claudius and his Purpose.
“Soon after the Wedding Night, Livius discovered his Bride attempting to bring down his Wards. The Girl cried and wept and lied as to her Purpose, stating that she missed her Mother and her Sisters, wishing only to allow them Access to her New Home. Livius suspected Clothilde, and watched his Bride most carefully. He told his new Wife that all of his Wards were tied to his own Wand and only he could lower them. Clothilde, in her Youth and Innocence, did not protest and did not beg her new Husband to lower the Wards and allow her Sisters to visit. Livius, spying on his Wife, discovered her again attempting to remove his Wards. As he watched, he was Most Astounded to see that the Girl, despite lacking Talent, was having some Success. Confronting her, he demanded her True Purpose. Frightened, Clothilde confessed that her Father wished to enter her new Home and carry her off. Livius took Clothilde’s Wand from her and with some Researches, discovered its Nature, and determined to use his Wife in his Work in exploring Arts most Dangerous and Dark to gather Power to himself.
“As Livius grew in Skill and immersed himself in Darkness, his Madness and his Tyranny over his Wife grew likewise. Poor Clothilde, first Tool of a Vengeful Father then Tool of a Mad Husband, began to sicken and despair. All Attempts to escape her Vicious Spouse failed, and Livius did not allow Clothilde her Wand except during his Dark Practices, when he would exploit her Magic most cruelly. In Great Despair, Clothilde leapt to her Death, her only Escape from her Misery. Claudius, enraged, challenged Livius to a Duel. The Wizards fought all Day and all Night, until they met their Ends at each others’ Wands. Thus does the Tragic Tale of Clothilde end with the Deaths of Three who wished to twist the Mates to Foul Purposes.”
The book went on in a similar vein, describing various people whose lives had been touched in some way by “Mated Wands” – Minerva was becoming deathly sick of the Capital Letters the Author so Dearly Loved – but with no historical references, dates, family names, and scarcely even a placename, mentioned. The stories did all seem to be in the “realm of fantasy,” as the previous book would have called it. Perhaps it was better that it did all seem rather fanciful, Minerva reflected, as many of the holders of mated wands came to bad ends (or “Bad Ends,” as the author no doubt would have it), and none of them seemed to lead ordinary lives with ordinary joys and sorrows. But then, such stories would not have interested the author of this particular book.
Minerva began skimming the text, thinking that she wouldn’t find anything else of interest, and after a dozen more fantastic stories, she was about to give up, when finally she found reference to genuine historical figures, rather than those of legend.
“Great Sorrow can befall the Bearers of Mated Wands. To recount the Sad Tale of Godric Gryffindor and his great Friend, Salazar Slytherin, would be to No End, for who in the Wizarding World does not know of their Friendship, a Model for all Friends, and of their subsequent Quarrels and the Death of their Friendship? The Great Deeds they accomplished together will forever be associated with their Tragedy. (For the Uplifting Story of Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff, see the Chapter, ‘Sisters-in-Wand.’)
“In Bridget Wenlock and her Husband, the lesser-known Brian Wenlock, we see the Good that can be accomplished by those who hold Mated Wands and act with Nobility of Purpose. Although Arithmancers, the two were able to utilise the Power of their Mated Wands to devise new methods of Arithmantic Proofs, and it is said that Bridget’s Discovery of the Magical Properties of Seven is due to her Harmonious Work with Brian, with whom she lived in Conjugal Bliss until his Death in 1284.”
Finally, a date! And Minerva had actually heard of Bridget Wenlock when she took Arithmancy. This seemed a rather unremarkable entry, however – nothing like the miraculous or tragic events that Aloysius Prewett, the author of this dreadful tome, had recounted in the previous paragraphs. The first entry that looked as though it might be more than a fairytale, and there was nothing remarkable about it whatsoever. Wenlock’s discovery of the magical properties of the number seven, as important as it had been, could have been the result of hard work, intuition, and intelligence, and have had nothing to do with whether she and her husband had mated wands or not. And the story of Gryffindor and Slytherin was so devoid of detail as to render it useless. Every schoolchild knew of the two and how their friendship soured until they had a final falling-out. Minerva had never heard of their wands mentioned at all in any context – nor those of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Well, perhaps the next paragraphs might hold something of greater interest.
“In more Modern Times, we rarely hear Stories of Mated Wands. Wandmakers inform this Author that the Proper Woods to create Mated Wands, which were always hard to acquire, have become rarer and rarer over the last Few Hundred Years. In addition to this Sad Loss, there is also some Superstition in Wandmaker Lore regarding Mated Wands, and many Wandmakers, accustomed though they are to playing a Hand in the Fate of Witches’ and Wizards’ Lives, are wary of crafting such Powerful Objects as Mated Wands. For although the Wandmakers are secretive regarding the Reasons for this, it is rumoured that some Mated Wands may be of such Power that they could Work Together to bring down more than just the vaulted Stone Hall of Timothy and Esmeralda, but that they could bring down Wizarding Civilisation or could reshape it as the Wielders of the Mated Wands wished.
“One pair of famous Mated Wands in more Modern Times, however, must surely include the wands of Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel. There can be no Doubt in this Author’s Mind that the Flamels’ Success in Alchemy, and particularly in their purported Creation of the Philosopher’s Stone, is due entirely to their documented Possession of Mated Wands of Rosa arcana and Malus sylvestris Woods with Cores of Thestral Mane Hair. The Philosopher’s Stone is an Object of such Great Power that it could pose a Grave Danger to all of Wizarding Civilisation. Most fortunately for us all, the Couple, rumoured to be living in a Village outside of Paris at this writing, has not shared the Secret of its Creation with others, nor have they used their unusual Knowledge and Power for anything but the simple Enrichment and Extension of their own Lives. Although many may argue that the couple, if they would not share their Secret with the Wizarding World, should nonetheless have done more to alleviate its Suffering, this Author believes that the Temptation to do Good with their Great Powers would have turned, whether they willed it or not, to Control and Dictatorship. Thus the Love and Nobility of Purpose of this Good Couple has saved the Wizarding World from another Tragedy of Mated Wands, one perhaps greater than all others together, for what could be worse than Incalculable Power wielded by Two who were both Strong in Magic and Immortal?”
Prewett went on to say that no doubt there had been other mated wands throughout history that had played great roles in their owners’ lives, but that these were the stories he found “Most Compelling and Credible.” “Compelling” Minerva assumed meant “outlandish,” and “credible,” “fantastic.” Despite her scepticism, however, she did think that the one constant that ran through the stories – that the wands could be used to work together to an amplified effect – was likely true. It also seemed probable that holders of mated wands tended to have great roles in each others’ lives – usually as friends, partners, lovers, or spouses, but occasionally as enemies, as well. The book didn’t speculate on whether it was the wands that drew them together or whether what drew them together was the same force that drew the wands to them – or them to their wands, depending on how one looked at it – but Prewett’s speculations would likely to have been valueless, anyway. The man seemed obsessed with what he considered “Tragedy” and “Nobility of Purpose.” If the Flamels’ wands were made sometime in the few decades before they obtained them, that meant they were likely made sometime in the early fourteenth century, and since that was the most recent example that Prewett gave, despite having written the book in 1798, more than four hundred-fifty years after the couple had been born, it seemed that more recent examples of mated wands were rare, indeed.
What had Albus said about the Ollivanders and mated wands? That theirs were the first mated wands that they had made in four hundred years? If the period were that great for other wandmakers, it was hardly surprising that Prewett had been unable to find a more recent “Compelling and Credible” example of mated wands. Not to mention that she doubted people walked about advertising that they had mated wands. Albus hadn’t even told her about theirs until now. It was rather irritating that she hadn’t known of it sooner, but if she had learned of it as a teenager, she was sure that these stories would have led her to believe that she was destined for tragedy. Or “Tragedy.” Minerva smirked mirthlessly. Perhaps even now, it would have been better if she had not read these stories – after Quin’s divination and her own conflicted feelings, she was becoming more resigned to having “her joy die,” after all. But surely she should think of the positive examples Prewett gave – he did tend to dwell on the morbid, but he had mentioned some happy friends and happy couples. And even Crispin and Crispinian, who, Prewett remarked in a footnote, were not to be confused with the cobblers of the same name, continued to work together successfully in order to treat their patients, even after Ancelin left to lead a life of “Solitude and Contemplation.” Not all were doomed to tragedy or enmity. And she certainly could not imagine enmity between her and Albus, regardless of the circumstances. Not to mention that Albus had lived for decades with his wand, quite successfully avoiding tragedy, Minerva assumed, before she had ever received its mate. It had certainly sounded as though he had obtained his new wand after he was well into adulthood, some years after the death of his wife and his enraged defence of his friend’s fiancee.
Minerva placed the books on her bedside table and lay back, thinking about what Albus had told her about their wands. He had told her there was not much more to learn, except myth and superstition, but she wished he had at least mentioned some of the stories that had grown up around mated wands. Certainly he had at least known of Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel’s wands. He knew them personally, had worked with them. They weren’t storybook characters of myth and superstition. When she returned to Hogwarts the following week, she would see if she could find a more recent book that discussed mated wands, and perhaps even ask Albus about them. Or at least, about theirs. Minerva had the sense that there was much more that he hadn’t told her.
If only she had known of their wands during the fight against Grindelwald, she could have been of more use! Even after she had been promoted after having saved Albus in France, her work had been in research – very interesting research, to be sure – on using Transfiguration in the Defensive Arts and developing spells that could be used on the battlefield, but she herself never saw any of the spells implemented. Minerva could understand why Gordon Yaxley had wanted to go on that mission and see his work in action, though it was a pity he had been killed doing it. But she was more powerful than it sounded like this Gordon had been; she could have taken care of herself with a bit of training, she was sure. But instead of making use of the fact that she wielded a mated wand, Albus had made sure that she would be kept safe at the Ministry – doing such a good job of it that she hadn’t even used any magic during the first year and a half that she worked there. Of course, that hadn’t been Albus’s intent, but . . . even if he had wanted her safe, hadn’t it been foolish of him not to exploit the power of the mated wands? After their work together on the Hogwarts wards, he knew that the effects of their spells were amplified when they were working together. They could have accomplished so much! And once she had rescued him in France, he must have seen that she was capable of a great deal more than just staying safe at the Ministry. She was sure he had always known that, but it must have been clear to him by that point that she was no shrinking violet and that she possessed the wits and the skill to be of value in a direct fight against Grindelwald. She could have even helped Albus in his final defeat; it might have been easier on him than it had been . . . but that was, perhaps, unrealistic of her. Grindelwald was extremely powerful and very ruthless, the sort of opponent against whom she would not stand a chance . . . but Minerva still felt that Albus had neglected to exploit a useful resource by having her stay at the Ministry while he went off and hunted Dark wizards. Why would he do that? Pride? His desire to be the responsible one?
Minerva sighed and waved her wand to turn out the lamps. She didn’t know if she would sleep, she felt so restless. The texts gave her no real information and left her feeling dissatisfied and more curious than she had been before reading them. She couldn’t imagine why her father found them “fascinating.” She supposed that in a sense, it was interesting to see how the mated wands always seemed to find witches and wizards who became important to one another, for good or for ill. Of course, there may have been mated wands out there whose owners had never met; Minerva supposed that only the wandmakers would know such a thing for certain. Perhaps simply going to the Hippogriff’s mouth would be the thing to do; she could just go talk to Ollivander, ask him whether mated wands always went to owners whose lives intertwined in some way. That didn’t sound like some secret wandmakers’ lore, after all; surely Ollivander could at least tell her that much.
Deciding that she was too restless to sleep, Minerva lit the lamps and got out of bed. She shrugged on her dressing gown and shoved her feet into her slippers, then looked through what she had brought with her from Hogwarts. All that was left in her carpet bag was her small photograph of Albus, the nazar, the twin stones, a folder with applications for the Magical Creatures position, and the three books she had brought thinking that she might like something light to read. No blank parchment or quill.
Minerva removed the picture of Albus, the talisman, and the stones and set them on the bedside table. If someone saw them . . . it would look like a random selection of items; only Albus would recognise the connections among them. The frame, on the other hand – but she couldn’t bring herself to remove the rose. Turning back to her task, Minerva thought that there might be a quill and parchment in the small desk. She raised the top and found a small sheaf of fresh parchment, but no quill. A quick glance into the desk’s two drawers revealed only that this room was seldom used, as the drawers were empty.
Minerva cast a Tempus and saw that it wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet. She could find a quill downstairs, definitely in either her mother’s or her father’s study, though she would look first in the library. Rather than lighting the lamps in the hall, Minerva merely used a Lumos to help her find her way down the stairs of her childhood home. She entered the library and extinguished the light of her wand, noting that there were still two lamps lit. Perhaps her father or mother was still up working and was going to return, she thought, but as she walked toward the large table on the far side of the room, she saw why the lights were still on, and smiled. Her mother and father were curled up together on the sofa, her mother still holding a book that lay open across her stomach, another book on the floor beside them, no doubt dropped by Merwyn when he had put his arms around Egeria. Egeria had removed her glasses and they rested on her book, but her father’s glasses had just slipped down his nose.
Minerva tiptoed across the room and found the quill, ink, and some nicer parchment than what was in her bedroom. As she left, she looked back at her parents; with a little flick of her wand, she removed her father’s glasses and set them on the side table, with another, her mother’s book and glasses joined them. Before Minerva closed the door behind her, she lowered the lights and smiled again as she saw her mother turn her head against her father’s chest and his arms tighten reflexively around her.
Still smiling, Minerva trotted up the stairs to her room to begin writing the letters she’d been unable to get to that afternoon because of Melina’s early arrival. In addition to the invitations, she wanted to write to Poppy and ask her about borrowing the Pensieve. Now, she was more curious than she was disturbed about the conversation that Albus and Gertrude had been having before she witnessed the embrace. It wasn’t as though they could have expected privacy, after all, she reasoned; they had left the door open. And Albus already knew she had overheard something . . . if she wanted a closer look at what she had overheard, refresh her memory of it, where was the harm in that? Still, the thought made her uneasy. It had been a private moment, despite the fact that the door had been ajar. Minerva had the sense that viewing the memory in the Pensieve, which would give her access to more than she had been aware of when she had originally overheard them, would be like eavesdropping all over again. Well, she would ask Poppy about the Pensieve, then decide.