Angel Watch Me Through the Night
Chapter 8
Yawning widely, Minerva picked halfheartedly at her breakfast. She didn't ever have much of a morning appetite, but this morning the very thought of food was making her ill. She had been out far too late the previous night as she hadn't even returned to the castle until nearly eleven. She always lost track of time during her meetings with Severus. No one in St. Mungo's had noticed her entrance, so no one had come to look for her past visiting hours. Luckily, she had only run into one nurse on her way out. An intern named Blightly or Brighton or something to that effect. Pushing her plate to one side, Minerva gave up on the thought of food and turned for the first time to the people beside her. Like their headmistress, most of the members of her staff were not terribly active in the morning. However, Poppy Pompfrey was an exception. Some mornings, her bright attitude could grate deeply on one's nerves, but today Minerva felt compelled to talk with her as she was the only one actually speaking in full sentences.
"How was your night, Poppy? Any late night visitors?"
"Only a sixth year who woke up with a terrible nose bleed near midnight. One of the best sleeps I've had in months." The two friends shared a small laugh, "Oh, I almost forgot, Rufus came looking for you again last night." Minerva stared, but Poppy didn't seem to notice, "You're lucky you know. I wish charming, good looking men would come searching for me at ten o'clock in the evening."
"What do you mean 'again'?" Minerva asked blankly. Poppy looked shocked.
"He's been by several times in the past few months, always after hours, too. I'd say he's looking for something more than a meeting." Minerva paled, and Poppy let loose a giggle, "Don't get so worked up dear! I'm only joking, not that I don't think you tow are well matched. I think it would give the wizarding world a bit of moral support." Minerva bounced back to herself quickly.
"Perhaps, but when have I ever endorsed the ministry? We don't want to give people too much of a shock." As Poppy laughed, Minerva stood quickly and slipped out of the Great Hall before anyone could notice.
Minerva closed the staff door to the hall behind her noiselessly, immediately silencing the chatter that had threatened to filter into the empty passage. Without wasting a moment to collect her thoughts, Minerva dashed to her quarters, shouting her password at the gargoyle and racing past just as it leapt out of her way. Her heart pounding with worry, Minerva straightened her hair, which had fallen into disarray from her run through the castle, and threw on a heavy cloak over the thin morning dress she was wearing. Still panting heavily, Minerva grabbed her wand and ran back out, leaving her office in uncharacteristic chaos as she dashed to the school gates.
"Why else would I be here? Yes, I'd like to speak with the minister!"
"I'm sorry, headmistress, he is unavailable. Could you come back in two hours?" The sickly sweet nature of the Minister's blond secretary was eerily reminiscent of both Dolores Umbridge and Rita Skeeter. Not a terribly pleasant combination in Minerva's mind. Nevertheless, the headmistress forced a tight smile and situated herself smartly in a stiff chair on the left side of the hallway. The secretary, if she even noticed the quiet action, chose to ignore it.
Living with teenagers for the majority of her life had taught Minerva how to act, how to quickly retort to rude comments, and many other seemingly useless talents. But perhaps more than anything, her students had taught her how to get information and annoy others. Humming a light Scottish lilt and tapping her foot rhythmically against the marbled floors, Minerva exaggeratedly glanced about the office. It was not abnormal behavior, especially coming from the staff of Hogwarts, but to a person who usually works in silence, the noise could quickly grate on one's nerves. Sure enough, the secretary soon began to show signs of irritation, tossing her hair briskly over her shoulder repeatedly and scratching the papers on her desk violently with her thick black quill. Minerva took no heed of her agitation, neither ceasing her actions nor increasing them. The secretary became consistently more hassled, kicking the legs of her desk with her pointed boots, and shaking her head violently. Minerva lifted her eyes to watch with amusement as the blond waves, so perfectly placed when she had entered the office, began to stick out at increasingly odd angles. Finally, the woman threw her quill down on the stack of papers and gracelessly stood, stalked into the minister's private office and slammed the door firmly behind her. Minerva stood slowly, brushing down her dress and hair, and waited patiently for the frazzled woman to return. She did not have to wait long.
"The minister is willing to see you, Headmistress." Her voice was breathy, but calm. Minerva smiled kindly as she passed the glaring woman and shut the door behind her with equal ferocity. Still beaming slightly, she turned to face the smirking minister.
"You called for me at Hogwarts last night. I am sorry not to have received word of your late night visits sooner. May I inquire of their purpose?" Though her words were polite, Minerva's voice held none of its customary warmth. Rufus's smirk broadened.
"You've always known how to get your way, Minerva. Please, have a seat." Minerva stepped further into the room, but remained standing. Rufus leaned back in his chair and put his feet one by one on top of his desk. Minerva placed her hands beside them and leaned past them, putting most of her weight on the creaking desk to see past his shoes and bore her flashing eyes into his unfeeling ones.
"What the hell did you want with me at ten o'clock last night?"
Rufus did not seem unnerved or ruffled by her blunt question. Instead he relaxed further into his seat, his expression unchanging, though his eyes darkened considerably.
"My dear woman," his voice clearly stated that she was in no way dear to him, "I was merely wondering if I could catch you for a quick discussion at the ungodly hour, as I can never seem to locate you just after dinner." The minister didn't miss a beat or take a breath through his entire sentence. Minerva realized that that much was probably true, though he had distinctly avoided her question.
"Anything that must be discussed can be discussed here and now, or perhaps at a reasonable time for a school mistress. Perhaps one day after lunch would suit you?" There, he couldn't get out of that one. She had never left until after dinner. Sure enough, Rufus faltered and worry skirted his face. The change in tactics was evident before he so much as opened his mouth.
"I will find out where you're going." That smirk had been replaced by a snarl, "How horrible is it, Minerva, that you would tell no one in the school where you are? Surely not something you'd like the papers to hear about?"
"Surely you would not like the Prophet to know you have been visiting my rooms long after curfew when I'm not there to receive you." His expression darkened again. Minerva gave into the urge to smirk. He'd have to try another tactic now. Blackmail was not going to work.
Now came the silence, the contest of wills. Minerva forced herself to stay completely still, refusing to so much as blink. Rufus was not a patient man however, and had little tolerance for the silence. Kicking his feet forcefully off of the desk, hitting the headmistress's hand sharply in the process, he stood to his full and somewhat imposing height. Minerva did not wince although she thought briefly that he may have snapped her bone in two. Instead, she came around the desk without a word to meet him. For a moment, the silence continued, then Rufus broke it.
"Get out."
"I will not leave until I know that you will not bother the school again. We have seen what even the best intentioned ministry inference can do. I don't want to put the children through an ordeal." Without warning, the minister of magic shoved the mistress of Britain's most prestigious wizarding school violently against the wall behind her. Minerva's head throbbed and her vision blurred, though she still did her best not to let her pain show through. Rufus took the two steps he needed to loom over her and looked down at the crown of her head for a moment before roughly grabbing her arm and hoisting her weakened form nearly off the ground. Minerva, for the first time, gasped in pain.
"I will make no promises to you. Get out."
Minerva had no choice but to leave.
"I still don't believe you, you understand." Minerva winced visibly as Poppy rubbed the healing slave along the dark purple bruises that had wrapped themselves painfully around the upper part of her right arm.
"Believe what you want. I'm sticking to my story." The mediwitch sighed loudly, but chose not to comment. Continuing her rhythmic massage on the angry marks, she wondered exactly what had caused them. Minerva could tell her the cock and bull story about colliding with a grandfather clock all she wanted, but Poppy refused to believe that her friend could manage that unless she was dead drunk, which in itself was quite difficult for Minerva of all people to accomplish. Wrapping her hand around Minerva's arm, she noticed that the peculiar arrangement of the marks was much less suited to the rim of a clock than to the grip of a strong hand. Ignoring Minerva's gasp of pain, Poppy squeezed the bruised area lightly and turned to her employer slowly.
"Minerva," She began nervously, "did Severus do this?" Confusion spread over Minerva's face slowly as she turned to face the nurse.
"No," it was not the wail that Poppy had expected, nr was it the rushed lie she had hoped for. Instead, it was more of a distant thought spoken aloud, a sigh of relief woven in the word, "No, Severus has barely ever moved in my presence, let alone hurt me." Minerva met eyes with her old friend and Poppy was horrified to see a clouded darkness in them that she had once seen in the headmaster many years ago, only a few weeks before his death. "I can't tell you who did this, Poppy, just please trust me when I say that you wouldn't believe me if I did say, and I'd probably earn myself a bed in St. Mungo's if I came forward." Minerva gave her friend a small smile, and laid back against the mediwitch's soft chair, wincing as her arm slipped out of Poppy's grasp.
Poppy debated quickly whether to believe her friend or not. Her cover-up was suspicious, but as far as she knew, Minerva had not even been to see Severus yet today. Poppy knew it was none of her business, but knowing was never the problem. Sighing, the nurse gave in and turned her back to Minerva, putting the healing salve away in silence. Minerva touched her bruises tenderly, willing them to disappear. They would have vanished in fifteen minutes, though the soreness would remain for another half an hour. For a few minutes, both women simply looked around the familiar hospital wing in silence, refusing to look each other in the eye. After a bit, Minerva spoke in a voice of forced calm.
"How was I injured, Poppy?"
The mediwitch gave a half smile. I'll cover for you, but you owe me.
"You got drunk, Minerva."
The headmistress sighed, though a smile graced her lips as well.
"That will do."
A/N: I'm actually updating beforea wholemonth has passed! Enjoy, people. We're getting conflicted now. I've had this done for a bit and I've already started on the next chapter and it should be up before too long.