Disclaimer: I own nothing and never will. It all belongs to J K Rowling.
A/N: Well, hi folks! Surprised? Well I hope so. Finally I have it all written up, polished and ready to be read. Thank you to all of you who have reviewed and I apologise to you all for keeping this from you for so long. You all rocked and you still do. I hope you enjoy this, its a bit longer than the last chapter.
Big thanks goes to gahhMinerva for her advice and beta-reading skills! READ HER STORIES! They're awesome.
Now without further ado...
Chapter 5
What to Make of a Diminished Thing
Slowly coming into consciousness, Minerva snuggled down into the deep, soft duvet cover. The twittering of the blackbirds held the morning full of hope and promise, as did the sunlight filtering through the partially drawn curtain. Gradually opening her eyes, Minerva lay there and sighed with contentment. While feeling as though her stomach was about to fizzle up inside of her and fall to the ground, Minerva had another feeling overtaking that slight nausea... Happiness. Although having consumed far too much wine and accepted too many cocktails, Minerva was happy to recount the previous night's events, as though she was sober. The pub-crawling...Severus and Filius's 'fight'...Poppy singing badly on the Karioke ...she and Albus snuggled up by the fire with marshmallows and later on...
Well, that is the best part, she thought with a smile. Me and Albus...
Minerva had the gift of being able to get completely drunk, and still recall the previous night's events. Sometimes there was a reason for being paralytic and agreeing to anything knowing you will never remember it; to save your self from bad memories and embarrassment. There were many times in her past where Minerva counted this gift as a curse such as the one nightstand with Bartemius Crouch senior a few years after she had left Hogwarts. A shiver was sent down her spine and Minerva refrained from hitting her head on the wall next to her, as it would only make the morning after effects worse. That was one thing Merlin had not blessed her with. Deciding not to dwell on past actions, Minerva scooted across the bed and grabbed her dressing gown, which had fallen to the floor. She rose from the bed and made a beeline towards the bathroom, to dig out a hangover potion 'for ladies'.
An ingenious invention, Minerva thought with a small smile forming on her lips. She wanted to kiss the person who had come up with the very idea of an all-inclusive morning after potion for ladies, for it had saved her on many occasions.
All except one, she thought fondly as her thoughts flew to her only son, who was currently touring the world with his Quidditch team. And he has not sent me a letter yet...
Minerva waved her hand towards the bath, and it appeared to magically fill up with multicoloured bubbles and hot water. It had taken her years to do wandless magic, but with the help of Albus and his talent for transfiguration, she had finally managed to pass it with flying colours. Letting her skin absorb the hot water and the lingering raspberry scent, Minerva slid down into the bath and began to give thought to the memories of the previous night, and how they would reflect upon their relationship. Albus had explicitly stated that he would love to continue their relationship, if that is what she had wanted. So Minerva took him at face value and gave her consent to such a relationship. If Albus could not make her happy, and she was at her most comfortable with him, then nobody else could. A contented sigh spread across her face for what seemed the umpteenth time that morning. The first thing she was going to do, when well presented, was find Albus and see his thoughts on the matter. The thought of Albus gave a little flutter in her stomach, and soon her smile turned into a grin.
I haven't felt like that in a while…she thought with excitement. Minerva decided not to lounge in the bath and soon jumped out, grabbing the maroon-coloured towel on the way out. Opening the cupboard, she reached in and picked out a set of summer robes in her house colours, then quickly fixed her hair in a French plait.
"You look all Gryffindor! Might I suggest a little make-up?" commented the mirror in a deep female voice.
"Not today, I shall save that for special occasions," Minerva dismissed briskly, and walked off in search of the headmaster.
Albus sat in front of the mirror brushing out his long silver hair gazing into the sweet picture of himself and Amelia dancing at a Ministry ball many years ago. If truth were told, he had never got over her death, even though it was over thirty years ago. It was because he had been foolish enough to assume that no one would ever touch her as he was supposed to be the most powerful man in the world. Indeed, defeating a dark wizard, being the headmaster of the best school in the world and studying alchemy with the best alchemist in the world, Nicholas Flamel, does tend to boost the ego of a man in his prime. His world had come crashing down when Tom Riddle had taken his rejection of the defence position badly, and swore revenge on the one man who had denied him what he supposed was rightly his. Albus felt he had been selfish enough as it was without having to put Minerva in the limelight. He could not let that happen again, if, and when, Tom eventually returned to his full self.
A soft hoot was emitted from his familiar, Fawkes, which drove Albus from his melancholy daydreaming. Looking over to his feathered friend, Albus gave a sad smile at the phoenix, as Fawkes cocked his head to one side as if trying to work out what was wrong with his master. Deciding that his master needed a little cheering up, Fawkes trilled a small tune, and flew over to Albus to perch on the top of his right knee. Albus chuckled and stroked the brilliant shade of red and yellow plumage on Fawkes's breast, marvelling at how the phoenix could keep his feathers soft.
"Time to face the music, I suppose," he murmured to his long-time friend. "I wonder if the rest of my staff have made it back to Hogwarts in one piece?"
Fawkes trilled another tune as if to answer his master, and flew back to his perch to preen his feathers. Chuckling, Albus picked up his deep purple hat, and placed it gently upon his head. Lifting his head up high to let his mad old man façade slide into place, Albus swept from the room into his study to begin a new day.
"I say, how are you, old chap? You looked rather green when you strode in a while ago," said a female voice with concern from behind Albus.
"Ah, Dilys. Quite well, thank you for asking," Albus said graciously, turning around to meet the portrait of an elderly woman with long silver ringlets. "I am constantly reminding myself that I am no longer as young as I once was. This morning was a result of that."
"Nonsense! You are as young as you feel! In my day, we would live life as though it were our last!" cried Armando Dippet from his painting. "Do not deny yourself any pleasure, Albus. Just approach it with a little caution."
"Thank you, Armando. Unfortunately, this time, I will take great caution. However, it is not only my pleasure at stake. Ah, that must be one of my poor staff. Come in!"
Albus placed himself in his grand headmaster's chair as the old oak door swung open of its own accord to reveal a rather enthusiastic Minerva McGonagall stride in and place herself in one of the Chintz chairs opposite the desk. Feeling his heart speed up a little, he realised she knew exactly what went on between them the previous night.
"Good morning, Minerva. I hope I find you well?" Albus asked cautiously, feeling his throat go dry.
"I am in excellent health, thank you. Unlike some of my more unfortunate colleagues who I passed not ten minutes ago," Minerva replied, trying desperately not to let the nervousness creep into her voice.
"Oh dear. I hope they are all accounted for. I would hate to send out a search party, especially if said party included our resident potion's master." Albus smiled a little. "Tea?"
"That would be wonderful, Albus." Minerva replied, flashing him an encouraged smile. Albus flicked his wand and a tray full of teacups, a teapot, a small jug of milk, and a plate of biscuits appeared in front of him.
"Perhaps we should adjourn to my sitting room where it is more comfortable, without a desk to separate us. I think that would be more adequate?" Albus suggested. While he did prefer the table between himself and Minerva presently, it was perhaps, he felt, more wise for them to talk without any variables between them.
"That would be wonderful," said Minerva and followed him through to his sitting room where a comfortable Italian-made sofa was to play host. Placing the tray on top of a small coffee table, Albus began to pour them both tea, and handed Minerva the first china cup.
"So, how are you this morning?" Albus asked, deciding to break the ice first. Sitting back, he observed Minerva sampling the tea. A wonderful smell of raspberries wafted towards him, distracting him from concentrating on what she was really saying.
"I'm sorry? You have a wonderful smell of raspberry about you that it distracted me. Could you repeat it please?" Albus said, feeling slightly guilty. Luckily, his beard hid the slight hue that had formed on his cheeks, so Minerva would not have recognised him blushing at such a silly thing.
"I said, that I am feeling fine. No headaches to speak of, no nausea, nothing what so ever. I have a gift of being able to remember everything that happened the night before, whether I wish to or not," Minerva said, watching Albus's reaction, while wondering what he was thinking about. What Albus was thinking, however, as he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, was, how on earth am I going to tell her 'No'?
Albus sighed, and place a warm hand upon hers.
"I regret to say that... that, this cannot go any further," he said sorrowfully.
"You mean, it was all a mistake?" Minerva said quietly, the bite entering her voice at a rapid rate.
"I do not regret anything that happened between us last night, Minerva. It was wonderful. The best I have ever felt in years," Albus continued, placing his tea back on the table. "The point is, I am your boss. Strictly speaking there is to be no such affairs between staff that will affect the relationship, not to mention that I am many years your senior."
"That is utter rubbish, Albus. I married a man forty years my senior, and I was extremely happy with him. Stop making excuses for yourself." Minerva said coldly, glaring at him with anger and hurt sparkling in her eyes. "That rule is only prohibited during term time. Right now is the summer time. If you don't regret it then why are you making poor excuses?"
"I refuse to risk anymore lives because of my foolish wants. Last time I lost my wife because I was arrogant enough assume that a mad man would never dare touch anything so dear to me for fear of my wrath. That will not happen again!" Albus stood up, feeling the anger and the pain whirl up inside of him. Minerva stood up to face him, her anger matching his.
"Even if the things you hold so dear will stay beside you no matter what will happen?" she seethed, sparks flying out of her wand.
"Yes, I refuse to feel more pain that I brought on to myself!" Albus shouted, his eyes blazing, the magic in the room swirling about him as though it were a thunderstorm.
"Then you are a bigger coward than you take yourself for!" Minerva shouted back at him and turned to leave the room, slamming the door behind her, causing protests from the sleeping portraits on the wall. Albus stood rooted to the spot, anger and pain coursing through him like a tidal wave, Minerva's words echoing through his mind. He suddenly felt angry with himself for allowing his anger to rise up and overtake his rationality. Albus felt ashamed of himself after he felt the anger disappear, and collapsed back onto the sofa, his fingers pinching his nose. As though he sensed his masters needs, Fawkes flew into the sitting room and perched himself on his masters knees once more, as Albus wept for not only Amelia, but for Minerva. His brave, Minerva.
Not, MY, Minerva.
If there was one thing that Severus could not stand, it was a distressed woman. His social skills lacked the patience and the sympathy to be able to bring a woman out of despair so that she regained her rationality. Most of the Wizarding kind that Severus was acquainted with knew these facts, but women still came to him in some hope that there was actually a heart beneath the cold exterior. In some ways, he could bring a woman out of despair with his callousness, for not displaying sympathy. Some women did not need sympathy and a shoulder to cry on, but a swift mental slap in the face that would bring them to their senses to learn from their mistakes.
Sweeping along the corridors of Hogwarts, Severus came to a sudden halt as a very distressed Minerva McGonagall sped from around the corner, transformed into her animagus form, and jumped out of the second floor window. Wondering what on earth could be ailing the Head of Gryffindor house this early in the day, Severus took a few strides to where Minerva had leapt, and gazed out of the window as a silver-tabby tail disappeared through a window. Deciding that he had nothing better to do for the day, other than his ritual habit of sweeping through Hogwarts, even when there were no students, Severus decided to catch up with his rival Head of House. While not a proper gossip like half the faculty, Severus did like to be the first to know the goings on of Hogwarts, if only to bend and use to his will. Striding down the corridor, Severus came face to face with the portrait of Gryffindor and knocked smartly on the door.
"Password?" the old wizard asked politely.
Severus racked his memories in search of the latest book that Minerva had been reading in the staffroom, finally landing on a book with a small title, and spoke it aloud.
"Genisis."
"I am sorry, the password has been changed," Gryffindor replied in sincerity. "I'm afraid the lady of these quarters finished that book yesterday."
"Can I come in anyway?" Severus said glaring at the portrait was though it was his fault.
"Only if you answer my question right. In your sixth year, what was the kneasle's name and colour, which you gave to Minerva McGonagall?" Gryffindor asked with a raised eyebrow.
"His name was Sinbad, and he was a silvery-black colour," Severus replied impatiently.
"Correct, you may enter," Gryffindor said cheerfully, and stepped aside as the door swung open wide, only to reveal a very distressed Minerva McGonagall sprawled over the Italian-made couch.
"What was that little scene all about?" Severus demanded quietly, folding his arms, and wrapping his black cloak around his body. Minerva looked up in shock, her hair falling out and sticking itself around her face, and sat up stiffly.
"What the hell are you doing in my quarters?" she questioned him, the cold fury evident in every syllable.
"Waiting to go on a date with Hagrid's Blast-ended Skrewts," he replied, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Now answer the question."
"It's none of your bloody business, Severus, you're always sticking you big nose in where it's not welcome! Just, just...piss off!" Minerva stood screaming at him. With a big sob she sunk back down into the cushions again and began to cry in pain. Severus stared in surprise that first of all, Minerva McGonagall had just sworn twice, second she just insulted his big nose, and third he had never seen her in such a state before. Deciding to carry through his initial plan because it would let loose some of this rage, he ploughed forward deciding to run the gauntlet. If worst came to worst, he was a very good duellist, and it would keep his withering skills in practice.
"State the obvious. Ten point to Gryffindor," he sneered after a few minutes. Only a distressed sob could be heard from a mound full of pillows. "Who was it?"
"IT WAS ALBUS SODDING DUMBLEDORE! That's who!" Minerva sat straight up, throwing a transfigured pillow-cum-vase at Severus for daring to ask. Severus lazily flicked his wand to create a natural barrier and the vase smashed in front of him.
"What has he done this time?"
"He led me on, that's WHAT! He slept with me and gave me a load of cat-crap about not regretting it! THAT'S WHAT!" Minerva stormed, throwing everything in her line of sight at the potion's master. Severus paled and scrunched his face up at the thought of both of his bosses having a go at it.
"I did not need that mental image!" he moaned, which made Minerva throw every colourful variation of spells she knew at him. Finally after a good ten minutes of throwing her possessions and spells at Severus, she ceased fire and sunk down to the ground.
"I don't know what I am going to do. I can't face him now. What do I do, Severus?" Minerva mumbled, staring into the dying fire.
"I don't bloody know!" replied a very irate Severus as he desperately tried to remove a foreign substance of his robes. "Well, you can stop blubbering about it for one thing."
"Maybe I should take some time off? It is still the summer after all...get away from him..."
"That's it, go and find some other man to squander his money off. Visit your son, even."
"I don't know where in the world he is at the moment."
"Ask Hooch, she will know." Severus replied offhandedly, finally vanishing that mysterious substance stuck to his cloak.
"Good idea," said Minerva resolutely, wiping away the tears from her face with her sleeve. Standing up and wobbling a little, she walked over to Severus who looked at her with suspicion and edged around a side table.
"I'm sorry about what I said. I never meant it; my rage was aimed at Albus, not you," she whispered croakily, sniffing between words.
"Really? I hadn't noticed." Severus muttered deadpanned.
"You are good really. Thank you for the duel." she said, thanking a rather relieved Severus. Wiping her hair out of her face, Minerva summoned her trunk and began to list off the enchantments to repair the damaged furniture.
"Oh, and what is going on between you and Rolanda? I noticed you were getting a little close last night," Minerva asked as she threw open her wardrobe and flung various robes into her trunk without much thought.
"Ah, not much," Severus hedged, and tried to change the question quickly. "How d-"
"Oh, I see. Well, I hope you are not going to leave her after last night then?"
"Who said we spent the night together?" Severus replied defiantly, repairing the sofa back to its original state.
"No one. I read between the lines. And it appears I was right on the money."
"Meddling old witch..." muttered Severus, shaking his head at the mess they had made over a duel.
"Hark, who's talking Mr What-Was-That-Scene-All-About? And I am not old! I'm only seventy."
"Only another seventy years to live then," Severus retorted, with a smirk.
"And yours will only be another thirty seconds if you make another remark about my 'oldness'." Minerva cast a stern look at the younger wizard. Casting another enchantment to change her dishevelled appearance, Minerva finished her packing and reached over on to a table to see what Floo powder she had left.
"Ah, good, just enough. Rolanda Hooch!" Minerva called into the fire, just as Severus darted into the bathroom out of sight.
"Hello, Minerva! Good to see you are not suffering from last nights events like the rest of the staff," Rolanda greeted the older witch, and sat on the rug at her fireplace to talk.
"Oh, I am, just not physically. You would not happen to know where my son is, would you?" Minerva asked brusquely.
"I believe he is in Chile at this precise moment. I did not know you were off to see him this summer?" Rolanda replied with a trace of surprise written on her face.
"Well, something came up. Severus is here if you would like to see him?" Minerva summoned the potion's master, from the bathroom and thrust him through the Floo Network, despite his squawks of protest. "Give the cheeky git what for. I shall be back in a few days."
"Ok, have fun!" came the muffled reply as the Floo connection terminated. Minerva, feeling pleased with herself, shrunk her trunk and slipped it into her cloak pocket. Transforming into her tabby form, she sped out of the open window and clawed her way down the guttering to the ground. Making her way across the dew-covered grounds, Minerva came to the road into Hogsmeade, and bounded down to the Apparition point. With one last look up at the castle, Minerva turned and Apparated to the international Wizarding apparition point, to find her son.
Please review? Please? Good? Bad? Stuff you would put in the bottom of the budgie cage? Let me know!