Written for Ilvermorny, Setting Sail challenge.
Main Prompts: Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore
Secondary Prompts: mauve (color), "I'm not an idiot, I'm sure you realize" (dialogue), marvelous (word), Invisibility Cloak (object), "penny for one's thoughts" (phrase), caustic (word)
"Penny for your thoughts, Albus," Minerva said.
Her husband turned to face her. "I have sent Harry to live with Petunia and Vernon Dursley."
Minerva stared at her husband in shock. "You did what?!" Her voice was an octave higher than usual, and her Scottish brogue had gotten even stronger in her distress. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore! Do not tell me that you placed Harry Potter with his mother's sister and brother-in-law!"
Albus nodded his head solemnly, looking over his half-moon spectacles at Minerva. "I have," he said gravely. Well, as gravely as he could, given that he was wearing horrible mauve robes and his beard was plaited with a matching mauve ribbon tying the end.
Minerva covered her eyes with the palms of her hands and groaned. "Oh, Albus, you didn't. You have no idea what those horrid people are like! I met them once — at Lily and James' wedding — and that was enough to last me the rest of this life and the next, oh...ten or so! All they did the whole time was make caustic remarks about magic — a thing they know nothing about! — and turn up their noses at everyone else." She shook her head in disappointment. "Albus, you know what the Potters' will says: he goes to either Sirius or Remus."
"Sirius is in Azkaban, Minerva," Albus said; "Remus is a werewolf. You cannot imagine that I would put Harry with a werewolf, do you? I am not so cruel that I would do that."
Shaking her head, Minerva sunk into the armchair across from her husband. "Albus...oh, Albus. You have no idea what you just did."
Minerva and Albus had been secretly married for years. They had bonded over their mutual love of good wine, big words, and their students. They both adored teaching. Minerva had been married before — with two children, no less — but they had been found and killed by rogue Death Eaters. The children were twins, and had yet to celebrate their seventeenth birthday. Their birthday gift, however, was not for them. It was for the ones who had murdered them.
Minerva had turned bitter after that fateful day. Albus had soothed part of her, pieced most of her, not just broken, but shattered heart back together. She both loved and hated him for it, because loving someone else who was not her first husband seemed almost like cheating to her, somehow.
Her heart was not whole, still, though. There was still a gaping wound that could not be filled — not by anyone. Not even by marrying Albus. He, lovely man that he was, understood completely. They shared everything. She compared losing her family to that of Albus losing both his best friend and sister. It did nothing to ease her heartache.
Lily Evans had reminded her of her daughter. The same thirst for knowledge that was reflected in her eyes. The same respect for peers and elders alike. The same enthusiasm for life. The same quick, dry wit. And, as she got older, the same act of teenage rebellion.
James Potter was like her son. Energetic, mischievous, always grinning about something or other.
And, like her children, they were both gone. And their only son was to be raised by the worst people in the world.
"Albus, dear," Minerva called. She poked her head out from the kitchen. She had just finished setting out the candles on the table.
Albus breathed deeply. "Minnie, darling, what is that marvelous smell? Could it be that we finally got a house elf to cook for us?" Minerva rolled her eyes. It was a running joke between them that Minerva was a terrible cook.
"No, Albus, I ordered your favorite — Muggle Thai." Her husband's eyes lit up like a little kid's and he bounced past her towards the dining room. He plopped down and waved her over. Minerva had barely seated herself before Albus dug in with his chopsticks, holding them at an odd angle and taking a large bite of pad thai. She watched on in amusement as he went about stuffing himself. She barely ate anything.
When they had finished, Albus turned to his wife. "Now, Minerva...I know you only order Thai when you want something. I'm not an idiot, I'm sure you realize." The red candles cast shadows over his face in places and the colors danced over others.
Minerva laughed nervously. "I know that, Albus. I don't want anything." Albus raised his eyebrows. Cursing herself for her lack of Gryffindor courage, she pursed her lips. "Fine. I want to know why you sent that poor boy to live with the Dursleys."
"Minerva, do you know anyone who wants to raise a child who reminds them of his dead parents?" Minerva narrowed her eyes at him.
He sighed. "I sent Harry there because of the protection it will bring him — living with family. His mother sacrificed herself for him, and living with relatives will protect him much better than placing him with someone from the Wizarding world."
Smirking, Minerva got up and circled the table. "Was that so hard, Albus? To tell the truth and not find a way to go around it? Doesn't it feel," she leaned over him and pulled her hair from its high, strict bun; it fell to her waist in rippling silvery waves, "good?"
She bent over and placed a soft kiss on her husband's eager mouth.