Two weeks had passed since Albus and Minerva's arrival at the camp, and already the tidings grew darker and darker. There had been many meetings since that first one, and Minerva had attended them all, at Albus's side- but even despite her "personal assistant" status, she had felt terribly useless.
It was not, she decided, that she wasn't treated with the utmost kindness and gallantry. Oh no, she was- but perhaps that exactly was the problem.
They were chivalrous, they were very polite. But in a brave-knights-towards-damsel-in-distress way, and that was what bothered her. She was no damsel in distress- she was a knight here, she'd come here to fight, not to smile sweetly when one Auror or another pulled her chair back for her. Because they, especially the younger ones, really did elaborate- except, perhaps, the one she'd met the first, that one called Alastor. But the others...
She didn't realize it at first- naturally she didn't, she had other things on her mind!- until Albus had, with a smile, brought it to her attention.
"You're turning quite a few heads, my dear."
She raised her eyebrows and, with a quick swish of her long, dark braid, turned towards him. Her dark green eyes were narrowed, and her slender, pale, ever-busy hands fell down in her lap.
They were sitting in her tent- she had one of her own and he hadn't- next to each other on the only piece of furniture in the room- her bed. The closeness did not even feel uncomfortable to them- they'd spent many long afternoons there since their sudden arrival, a fortnight earlier.
"What do you mean?"
She pressed her lips closely together and crossed her arms as he chuckled.
"No really, Albus, I don't get it!"
Albus enjoyed every single bit of her "insulted" attitude, of her reproaching frown and, most of all, of the way she'd grown to pronounce his first name. He didn't know whether it was her Scottish lilt or just her general, sweet yet sharp pronunciation, but it made him feel... weird. Special- perhaps that was the right word.
"Come on, my dear- don't say you haven't noticed the eyes of about half the camp on you!"
She sighed and shook her head, turning more towards him, a faint smile on her lips.
"You're just mocking me."
"I certainly am not!" he assured her- his eyes were serious, Minerva noticed, and she unwillingly shook her head.
"You are- I mean, why would anyone..."
Albus smiled and shook his head in disbelief. Did this beautiful- no, gorgeous- girl then really not have a clue of her own attractiveness? Of course she hadn't... He had to restrain himself from rolling his sky blue eyes at the dumbfounded expression on her face.
"Why? Minerva, shall I give you the reasons just like this or in alphabetical order?"
Her big, green eyes now looked thoroughly shocked, and hardly producing any sound she mouthed
"Alphabetical."
It was such a typical McGonagall-answer that Albus could not suppress a fond grin.
"You're astonishing, breathtaking, courageous, daring, elegant..."
Minerva chuckled as she noticed what he was doing and lightly elbowed him.
"I knew you were mocking me!"
"I am not, Minerva, it's the truth. You're a beauty, and I can imagine both you and those young men over here think it quite a pity that you have to spend your days in the company of this barmy old codger."
He chuckled, but his bright blue eyes had never shone so seriously, so sincerely- and all Minerva could do was stare down at her leather-clad feet. A bright red colour shone from her cheeks and it irritated her more than she could say.
Until she finally gathered her well-known Gryffindor courage and looked up, deciding that the eyes of the man before her were way more interesting than her practical, black pumps.
"You know that is not true."
He read her serious, dark green emerald eyes, and suddenly, all he could do was whisper.
"What is not true?"
She impulsively bowed over to him, her eyes shining with truth from behind her glasses.
"Even if I had the choice, I'd still choose you above all others."
It took both of them a while to fully realize what exactly she had said- and Albus was the first to, finally, after what felt like moments but were actually minutes, hesitatingly open his mouth.
"Minerva..."
Her face was beet red and she bit her lips, but she didn't look away, even though she did not know why. She should be very, very ashamed now, she knew, yet in a strange way she wasn't.
"Minerva, I..."
But before he- or she, for that matter, because smiling and shutting up wasn't exactly characteristic Minerva traits!- could utter one more word, the door to the tent was slammed open, and...
"Sir! Miss!"
The young man, boy, who had just entered was breathing very quickly, and shook his head before continuing his confused sentence.
"I am so sorry to bother you but- Minister Goodall- and G-G- Grindelwald is attacking!"
Albus was the first one to return to the world of common sense after the strange moment he and Minerva had shared.
"What? Where? Bring us to Ethain!"
The young man nodded, clearly glad he didn't have to explain more, and beckoned.
As he turned around and both the witch and the wizard on the bed jumped up to follow him, Albus did something which surprised both him and his Assistant.
Slowly, hesitatingly yet somehow surely, he grabbed Minerva's hand.
It was not, she decided, that she wasn't treated with the utmost kindness and gallantry. Oh no, she was- but perhaps that exactly was the problem.
They were chivalrous, they were very polite. But in a brave-knights-towards-damsel-in-distress way, and that was what bothered her. She was no damsel in distress- she was a knight here, she'd come here to fight, not to smile sweetly when one Auror or another pulled her chair back for her. Because they, especially the younger ones, really did elaborate- except, perhaps, the one she'd met the first, that one called Alastor. But the others...
She didn't realize it at first- naturally she didn't, she had other things on her mind!- until Albus had, with a smile, brought it to her attention.
"You're turning quite a few heads, my dear."
She raised her eyebrows and, with a quick swish of her long, dark braid, turned towards him. Her dark green eyes were narrowed, and her slender, pale, ever-busy hands fell down in her lap.
They were sitting in her tent- she had one of her own and he hadn't- next to each other on the only piece of furniture in the room- her bed. The closeness did not even feel uncomfortable to them- they'd spent many long afternoons there since their sudden arrival, a fortnight earlier.
"What do you mean?"
She pressed her lips closely together and crossed her arms as he chuckled.
"No really, Albus, I don't get it!"
Albus enjoyed every single bit of her "insulted" attitude, of her reproaching frown and, most of all, of the way she'd grown to pronounce his first name. He didn't know whether it was her Scottish lilt or just her general, sweet yet sharp pronunciation, but it made him feel... weird. Special- perhaps that was the right word.
"Come on, my dear- don't say you haven't noticed the eyes of about half the camp on you!"
She sighed and shook her head, turning more towards him, a faint smile on her lips.
"You're just mocking me."
"I certainly am not!" he assured her- his eyes were serious, Minerva noticed, and she unwillingly shook her head.
"You are- I mean, why would anyone..."
Albus smiled and shook his head in disbelief. Did this beautiful- no, gorgeous- girl then really not have a clue of her own attractiveness? Of course she hadn't... He had to restrain himself from rolling his sky blue eyes at the dumbfounded expression on her face.
"Why? Minerva, shall I give you the reasons just like this or in alphabetical order?"
Her big, green eyes now looked thoroughly shocked, and hardly producing any sound she mouthed
"Alphabetical."
It was such a typical McGonagall-answer that Albus could not suppress a fond grin.
"You're astonishing, breathtaking, courageous, daring, elegant..."
Minerva chuckled as she noticed what he was doing and lightly elbowed him.
"I knew you were mocking me!"
"I am not, Minerva, it's the truth. You're a beauty, and I can imagine both you and those young men over here think it quite a pity that you have to spend your days in the company of this barmy old codger."
He chuckled, but his bright blue eyes had never shone so seriously, so sincerely- and all Minerva could do was stare down at her leather-clad feet. A bright red colour shone from her cheeks and it irritated her more than she could say.
Until she finally gathered her well-known Gryffindor courage and looked up, deciding that the eyes of the man before her were way more interesting than her practical, black pumps.
"You know that is not true."
He read her serious, dark green emerald eyes, and suddenly, all he could do was whisper.
"What is not true?"
She impulsively bowed over to him, her eyes shining with truth from behind her glasses.
"Even if I had the choice, I'd still choose you above all others."
It took both of them a while to fully realize what exactly she had said- and Albus was the first to, finally, after what felt like moments but were actually minutes, hesitatingly open his mouth.
"Minerva..."
Her face was beet red and she bit her lips, but she didn't look away, even though she did not know why. She should be very, very ashamed now, she knew, yet in a strange way she wasn't.
"Minerva, I..."
But before he- or she, for that matter, because smiling and shutting up wasn't exactly characteristic Minerva traits!- could utter one more word, the door to the tent was slammed open, and...
"Sir! Miss!"
The young man, boy, who had just entered was breathing very quickly, and shook his head before continuing his confused sentence.
"I am so sorry to bother you but- Minister Goodall- and G-G- Grindelwald is attacking!"
Albus was the first one to return to the world of common sense after the strange moment he and Minerva had shared.
"What? Where? Bring us to Ethain!"
The young man nodded, clearly glad he didn't have to explain more, and beckoned.
As he turned around and both the witch and the wizard on the bed jumped up to follow him, Albus did something which surprised both him and his Assistant.
Slowly, hesitatingly yet somehow surely, he grabbed Minerva's hand.