The Proposal
Summary: He's witty, charming and kind. She is fresh out of school. They're young and carefree. They have no clue about the future. What would happen if these two fall for each other and he would ask her to marry him?
Summer of 1954
It's summer. The sun is shining brightly, without any restraint. The Scottish countryside seems to have grown younger with the voices of children at home. The young energy is invigorating, instantaneously lifting up the mood of the small village situated in the outskirts of Caithness. The merrier mood has affected the unusual household of the Presbyterian minister as well.
The minister is sitting on an old rocking chair placed in the porch. He is sipping a cup of tea, deep in thought, when he hears the voices of his two boys arguing.
"How dare you steal my Chocolate Frog, Bobby?"
"I did not steal it! It was lying on your desk so I thought I would eat it!"
"How thick can one get? You cannot simply scarf down my Frog, you little glutton! It was the last I had!"
There are noises of scuffling and fighting. A few moments later, the minister hears his wife saying smoothly, "Boys! Stop fighting over a silly sweet! Malc- Malcolm, stop hitting Bobby with – Bobby McGonagall, don't you dare to use magic –!"
The door opens and the minister's daughter steps out, smiling brightly. Even though she is not as beautiful as her mother, Minerva McGonagall looks stunning today. Her usually braided black hair is tied up into a messy bun and her green eyes are shining with happiness. She's wearing her favourite dress (the tartan one). The minister wonders where on earth is his daughter going.
The minister finds her recent behaviour a little strange. Ever since she has returned from her school, she has been acting queerly. She has been a lot looser, more carefree and happy. Also, the minister has noticed, she has been spending a lot of time outside too. Not that he's complaining, but this behaviour is a stark departure from her usual demeanour. Normally, she would be extremely solemn, responsible and would be highly intolerant of the behaviour her younger brothers exhibited.
However, the minister is all the more surprised when she beams at him and chirps, "It is a very cheerful morning, is it not?"
"For you, it might be. Not for the boys, though." The minister answers dryly. "Where are you going?" He adds, as he glances at her outfit.
"I'm meeting a friend." Minerva replies shortly as she wears her boots.
"Who would that friend be?" The minister wonders aloud. "You are not, by any chance, meeting that farmer's son, are you?"
Minerva's cheeks redden and she says brusquely, "I'm meeting Pauline, not Dougal."
Her reddened cheeks are enough for Robert McGonagall to know the truth.
Of course, he's impressed with the McGregor boy. Who wouldn't be? He's incredibly handsome and hardworking. From what the minister knows, the boy has started helping out his father since the day he was twelve. You don't find such mature, young lads these days, the prime example being the ministers' two sons.
However, like any other father of a young girl, the minister can't help being a bit annoyed at the McGregor boy. He has been very fond of his daughter and all of a sudden, she's out and about, visiting this funny young lad. It reminds him of his old days; back when he was courting Isobel, his wife.
"I'm leaving." She says and kisses his cheek lightly. "Don't expect me to be there for lunch."
With that, she leaves. She slowly shuts the weathered gate and waves goodbye to her beloved father. She is in a good mood, but she can't help wondering why Dougal has asked her to meet him at the ploughed field, lying on the outskirts of the village.
Ah Dougal, she grins dreamily. She is head-over-heels in love with him. In her school, she has met several aristocratically handsome wizards with tremendous knowledge and staggering amount of wealth. Yet, she can't believe that she has fallen for a simple farmer's son with no drop of magic in his blood.
All of a sudden, she feels that all the air in her lungs has been sucked out.
Galloping gargoyles, she hasn't told him yet.
Maybe I'll tell him later, once I get to know him better.
But she does know a lot about him. She knows about his likes and dislikes. She knows what he is like and what he wants to be.
He may not be rich, he may not be the smartest of men and he isn't a wizard. But she loves a lot, and right now, that's what matters the most.
She takes a deep breath as she reaches the ploughed field. She can clearly see the wizened old oak tree, standing on the perimeter of the field. She can see him standing underneath the tree. A lot of emotions are rushing inside her – loads of happy thoughts and love that she finds slightly overpowering.
Trying hard not to run excitedly, she approaches him. Butterflies are fluttering in her stomach. Her palms are sweating slightly yet she doesn't really care. Slowly, her walk metamorphoses into a sprint and then, into a quick run. Before she knows it, she's in his arms and he's kissing her forehead feverishly.
"You look beautiful."
Those are his first words and she can't help but blush.
Minerva has never been considered as a beauty. She looked a lot like her mother, but she knows that she wouldn't have that gentle grace which Isobel McGonagall possesses. She hates to admit it, but she's slightly jealous of her mother. What really makes her envious the most is her mother's relationship with her father. Their love is something Minerva deeply admires and she wishes that she could share something that special with someone too… preferably the boy standing in front of her.
"And you've cleaned up well today!" Minerva says, trying to sound casual. However, the happiness in seeing him is evident.
Dougal is tall but not overtly muscular. He's got shaggy blonde hair and clear blue eyes. It's his smile that attracts Minerva the most: it's mischievous, to say the least. She likes seeing his slightly-chipped front tooth and the dimple that forms on his left cheek. His smile is so contagious that you can't help but smile too. The most admirable aspect of his smile is that it easily reaches his eyes.
"You are very hard to impress, are you not?" Dougal observes, giving her one of his special winks.
"I may be." She returns, breaking away from his hug. "But you have a knack for impressing me."
"Oh really?" He asks, his eyebrows shooting up. "I'm glad that I am one of the privileged few to impress the likes of Minerva McGonagall."
"Somebody has been using big words!" She drawls as she walks around the oak tree. "You've impressed me again, Dougal. Slightly,"
Minerva is about to say something, when she feels his hot breath on the back of her neck. His hands are holding a band of black cloth. Tenderly, he ties the blindfold around her eyes, making her see virtually nothing.
"Why would you do that, Dougal?" Minerva whispers into the air. She senses his rough hand holding her own soft one and feels something being slipped onto her ring finger.
Slowly, realization dawns on her. She removes the blindfold with the aid of her free hand to see Dougal kneeling before her, his eyes full of hope and expectation.
"Minerva McGonagall," He murmurs. "Will you – will you marry me?"
The question lingers in the air. Minerva can feel the soft breeze touching her skin. Her sharp green eyes are resting on the simple ring adorning her fingers and then divert to Dougal, who looks so hopeful and (it will be the last time she will say this) adorable. She can't help it as the words spill from her mouth.
"Yes," She says softly to herself. Then her voice rises as she repeats, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Of course, I'll marry you!"
He gets up and no sooner, they're kissing each other. His arms are holding her, her fingers are tangled in his hair and their hearts are beating in a pleasing rhythm.
Minerva knows it: she's found the love of her life.
She returns home, late in the evening. Her family is having their supper. Her annoying brothers are surprised to see her, obedient Minerva, come so late. Her father raises his eyebrows, but says nothing. Her mother is the only one who doesn't seem surprised.
"Are you hungry, love?" Isobel enquires, looking concerned.
"Starving," Minerva says, sitting down and helping herself with the dinner. It is as delicious as always with Isobel McGonagall's cooking. Minerva can't help being impressed at her mother's cooking skills. She, however, cannot cook. Even making a simple pancake is a herculean task for Minerva.
I have to take lessons from Mother; Minerva thinks as she attacks the roasted chicken. If I'm to be married by next year, I have to learn how to cook.
Dougal and she were talking about their married life, what they would do and what names their children would have. They were designing the house they would live in and how often they would go to field trips with their imaginary children and whatnot!
"You're smiling." Malcolm says warily.
"Is the world coming to an end?" Bobby simply can't help but add his inputs.
"What's the occasion?" Her father asks. He is still wondering about the sudden change in Minerva's behaviour. Did she meet – ?
"You used magic and turned the old barman into a ferret?" Bobby says hopefully, because he hates being around that stinking old man and he knows it that his sister shares the same animosity.
"Minerva, you surely did not do that!" Malcolm looks shocked. "I never thought that such an occasion would arise but – but I'm proud of you, sister!"
"Did you meet your farmer boy, Min?" Robert McGonagall demands, point-blank. Unlike his sons, he knows what to say at the right time.
Minerva stops eating. He wasn't supposed to know about that.
"Boys," Isobel warns. "And that includes you, Robert. Stop jabbering, the lot of you! Minerva dear," Her mother smiles warmly at her. "Finish your dinner fast and rest. You look tired, love."
Minerva hastily finishes her dinner and goes to her bedroom. Her hand is in her pocket and she's fiddling with the ring that Dougal gave her.
She will have to tell them about her engagement soon. She bets her Galleons that Dougal has told his parents about their engagement the minute he stepped inside his house.
Minerva collapses onto her bed the minute she enters into the small room. She's drained out of energy. What happened today was like something straight from a fairy tale. Minerva cannot believe her luck. Dougal is very popular in the village, especially amongst the young women. On the other hand, hardly anyone bothers to give her a glance. Except for Dougal…
She giggles like a little Hogwarts first year as she recollects the first time they met. And the meeting after that… and the meeting after that…
Minerva gives a huge sigh and closes her eyes. She gingerly touches her earlobe… where he had kissed her the first time…
"I really like you," He whispered, after kissing her earlobe.
"I like you too," she murmured. She couldn't believe it. Minerva McGonagall, the strict Head Girl and the fierce Quidditch player, was losing her head for this handsome boy. For the first time in her short life, Minerva was not using her brain. Her brain was shut off and her heart was guiding her.
They were very close, their foreheads pressed together. Slowly, he kissed her on the lips. Without any hitch, she kissed him back, allowing herself to be held in his arms. Her fingers tangled into his blonde hair, making it messier than ever.
It seemed that she had kissed him for an hour when they broke apart.
Minerva hasn't told anyone about her first kiss, not even Pomona, her closest friend.
She opens her eyes and feels for something stashed underneath her pillow.
It is the acceptance letter . She has applied for a job in the Ministry of Magic and due to her impressive academic and extra-curricular record, she has been accepted in a good post.
She will have to reply to them sooner or else, someone else might grab it.
She can easily take out a quill and a piece of parchment. She can easily write the letter to the ministry. She knows the right words. She can send the letter after scribbling the reply. She can do it all in a matter of minutes.
But she doesn't do it, because something stops her from doing so. A memory of an exchange between Dougal and her today evening…
They were sitting underneath the same oak tree, Minerva's head resting on Dougal's shoulder. He was telling her about what he thought of his future.
"I want my pa's land, Min." He told her excitedly. "It will be fun, wouldn't it? Waking up early in the morning, listening to the birds chirp and you making a hot cup of tea? I'll be teaching the boys (our sons, you see) about farming like my pa did while you try to keep them from being rowdy. It all depends on my old man giving me the land. What if my brothers get it? What if I'm forced to continue my education and get a clerk's job in a city? I don't want to go and live in a noisy place for the remainder of my life, Minerva. I really don't."
"Don't worry," She soothed him. "Whatever happens will be for the better."
The ministry's office is in London – the most populous city she's ever known. She thinks – oh, no, she knows – Dougal will never come to London with her. He will never stay at their tiny flat in London while she goes to work daily. He is not the kind of a man who would lean on his wife for everything. He is independent, headstrong and it will crush him to depend on her for every single thing.
Also, there is one little snag:
She is a witch. He's a Muggle. She and her offsprings will be magical and be bound by the International Statute of Secrecy while he will be forced into keeping secrets about their true identities.
It almost seems like déjà vu… it seems like history will repeat itself…
Minerva thinks about her mother. Isobel Ross – the smart, vivacious young witch who topped in Charms had fallen in love with a Muggle Presbyterian minister. Her parents were deeply and passionately in love, but the trust in their marriage had disappeared the day her father had been told of her mother's true self. It is something which she doesn't want to have between herself and Dougal.
Back when she was a child, it pained Minerva to see her mother crying late in the night for a world she had renounced for love. The day Minerva received her Hogwarts letter, her mother was weeping bitterly, out of happiness and possibly, out of jealousy. That was when Minerva realised that Isobel missed the magical world and every little aspect connected to it, including Hogwarts.
Minerva can't help but recollect her schooldays. She remembers the lessons in which she took active participation, she remembers the Quidditch matches she played and mostly, she remembers every little memory she's shared with her friends during those seven long years at Hogwarts.
Her mother, after marriage, had cut off all ties with her friends. Minerva can't bear to do that. She can't stop talking to Pomona and all her other friends at Hogwarts, who have been with her through thick and thin.
Her mother loved magic and she was full of talents, especially in Charms. Minerva loves magic too, Transfiguration in particular. She cannot even think of a day without her wand. She often wonders how her mother had done it for all these years, locking her wand inside a wooden box and living her life as a Muggle.
It is almost painful to think of that prospect.
She knows what her decision should be.
And she can't help but cry.
She loves Dougal a lot. Probably, she will never feel strongly about anyone as she feels about Dougal. Probably, she will die an old maid with no one to love. Probably, Dougal will get married to a Muggle girl who is simple and not too ambitious like Minerva.
Probably, all of this is for the best. For both of them.
She has to break his heart.
She weeps silently in order not to wake her family. She feels absolutely downtrodden. Why, this morning, she felt elated. She felt like she was floating in the air. She felt that she was drunk in pleasure.
Is it not funny that now she feels heartbroken? Not to mention, extremely selfish?
She shuts her eyes and tries to imagine a life which her mother has been leading for the past twenty years. She imagines waking up daily, making tea for her husband and taking care of the day-to-day needs of the family, not even giving a thought to herself. She imagines herself locked in her bedroom, weeping for a world that she quit. She imagines feeling jealous when her children receive their Hogwarts' letter. She imagines sharing a somewhat bitter relationship with her children in the future because they are able to enjoy the world she has renounced. She imagines trying to hide her and her children's magic from her husband, bound by the ridiculous Statute of Secrecy. She imagines growing old with Dougal, happy but not completely so.
She realizes that she can't have both Dougal and her magic. She knows she's being extremely selfish, but even she knows that you cannot have everything you wish for.
She has seen her mother's anguish all her life. She doesn't wish to go through the same for the remainder of her life.
Maybe, she may regret this decision or maybe not.
Minerva gets up, brushes the tears away. Pulling herself together, she gets up from her bed and searches for a quill and a piece of paper.
It is high time that she grabs the job at the Ministry.
It will help her retain the perspective she's lost.
It will help her heal her broken heart.
More than that, Minerva knows what's important: to tell him that they are not meant to be together.
It's early in the morning. Dougal McGregor is at the ploughed field, reflecting on what happened yesterday. He looks elated, over-the-moon. He looks like he can burst out singing, but doesn't do so or else people will think that he's mad.
Yes, he knows he is mad. Mad in love, that is.
He's walking along the perimeter, a spring evident in his step when he sees her arrive. He stops walking and grins. Is it his imagination or is she growing more beautiful by the day? Her hair is tied into a tight bun and her mouth is set in a firm line. Has she told her parents about us? He wonders.
"Hallo there!" Dougal cries out. He waves his hand in her direction. She looks up and as she approaches him, he is shocked to see the pain in her eyes. Does her father disapprove of their relationship?
"Good morning, Dougal." She says primly. Minerva knows what she has to do. She lost sleep dreading this conversation. She doesn't want to do this but she has to. There is no other alternative to get out of this situation.
"Why on earth are you so prim and proper, Min?" Dougal asks, arching his eyebrow. "You told your parents about us?"
Her mouth opens and closes immediately. She doesn't know what to say. She is confused.
"Dougal," She finally says, her voice choked with emotion. "I – I cannot."
"You can't what?" He demands, looking curious.
"Marry you," She says and before he can protest, she shushes him by adding, "I am really sorry, but I cannot marry you."
"Why?"
The expression on his face is pained. Minerva does not dare to look at it. She shuts her eyes and purses her lips tightly. Focus, she thinks to herself. Do not lose your perspective, Minerva.
She wants to tell him everything. She wants to tell him the truth about her. She wants him to accept the truth and comfort her by saying that everything will be all right. She wants him to tell her that he will love her, no matter what. She wants to work and be with him at the same time. She wants him to pursue his dream and chase after hers at the same time. She wants to have a happy, sunny life with him.
She wants everything to be all right.
Unfortunately, the Fates are cruel. It is either this or kissing her wand goodbye.
"I j-just cannot!" She stammers, fiddling with the loose thread of her shirtsleeve. "I do not deserve to be with you, Dougal. You deserve someone b-better. Not me,"
You deserve happiness, she thinks. You do not deserve to be bound into a life of secrecy. I cannot make your life as miserable as my father's.
"I love you!" She articulates clearly. "I love you a lot! Unfortunately though, I cannot be with you. I'm leaving for London in three days' time."
"Just so you could get away from me?" The hollowness in his voice is evident. Minerva tries hard not to cry. Yet, she can't help it as a tear escapes from her eyes.
"It's not like that!" Minerva says, trying hard to face him. But she cannot. So much for a Gryffindor, she thinks.
"It sure looks like!" Dougal spits out. Minerva finally finds courage to look at him. She's shocked to find his eyes are filled with tears and betrayal.
"Dougal, I – I love you a lot!" Minerva says, her voice trembling slightly. "But you and I – we're not meant to be together. And I can't properly explain why!"
He is about to say something when she raises a hand to stop him. She whispers, "I am really sorry that it has to end this way."
She takes out the simple ring from the pockets of her dress. It is a golden band with a solitary emerald on it. To match your eyes, he had said yesterday.
She places the ring on his palm and wraps his fingers over it. She tries to pull herself together, but she cannot.
She bursts into tears and leaves him standing there, all alone.
"Min – Minerva, wait! WAIT! DON'T GO AWAY!"
She can't even bear to spare a last glance. The pain is just too much. It's overpowering her. All she wants is to get away from here. The sooner she leaves, it would be better.
Minerva now knows it: she has lost the love of her life.
A few years later
Do you remember that McGregor boy? The one you hung around with? He's married old McDonald's daughter, Harriet last week. Your father and I went to the wedding. The boy was as courteous as ever. He asked about you. We told him that you're a teacher… not where, of course! Other than that, a new family moved into the village and they are really a pleasant –
He's married.
Minerva's eyes are rimmed with tears. Her usually tied hair is loose and it is cascading down her back. Her composure has disappeared entirely. Every single letter that Dougal sent is strewn across her desk. Her wand lies casually atop one of the letters – the first letter in which he begged her to come back.
She's clutching her mother's letter, tears leaking profusely from her eyes. Her mother makes it sound so casual. But then again, Mother doesn't really know about that tumultuous summer, does she?
"May I come in, Minerva?"
The voice belongs to the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.
"You may, sir." Minerva says curtly, hastily trying to wipe away her tears. She's not too fast, as the door opens and the brilliant (though slightly eccentric) wizard enters inside the classroom.
"Please don't call me 'sir', Minerva!" Dumbledore says, waving his hand dismissively. He sits down on one of the desks and peers at her through his half-moon spectacles. "You look rather upset, Minerva. Why is it so? Is it some bad news?"
"Oh it's nothing, Professor!" Minerva says, turning her back to the revered Headmaster as she tries to organize those letters, including her mother's. "It's just a letter from my mother," She adds as she stuffs all of Dougal's letters inside a box.
"Is your family doing well?" Dumbledore inquires. "Your father does not have any health problems, does he?"
"No, sir." Minerva replies, wiping away her tears. "He's as healthy as a Hippogriff! My mother and brothers are doing fine too, in case you were wondering!"
"Good to know, good to know," Dumbledore chuckles. Then sombrely, he asks, "Then what is it that made you cry for such a long time, Minerva?"
How does he know that she was in here for a long time?
"It's n-nothing, sir." Minerva replies meekly. She stows her wand into her pocket and tries to regain some composure. But she cannot. Her mind is swirling with various what ifs. She can barely stand properly and talk. Even breathing is taking too much effort today.
"Do not call me 'sir', Minerva!" Dumbledore says. "It makes me feel very powerful."
"Isn't that a good thing?" Minerva whirls to him, arching her eyebrows. "Why must you, one of the greatest wizards in this century, dismiss power?"
"Let's just say that I'm not to be trusted with too much power." Dumbledore says simply. "The greed for power made me lose my sister."
"Oh," Minerva whispers softly. "I'm afraid I did not know that, si- Albus."
"Hardly anyone does," Dumbledore says. He heaves a millennial sigh and adds, "It was a very tragic affair, Ariana's death. It permanently damaged my relationship with my brother."
"I – I did not know that either." Minerva says. She is at a loss for words. For the first time since all the long years she's known him, Dumbledore looks vulnerable. His eyes are sad and Minerva feels pity for him. He really misses his sister, she thinks.
"Well, it happened in the past." Dumbledore heaves another sigh. "There is no use repenting about it now. However, tell me why you, of all the people in this castle, were crying?"
For a moment, Minerva hesitates. Should she tell her old teacher (and now, her boss) about Dougal? What if he laughs at her? As far as she is concerned, great men like Albus Dumbledore consider romance as a trivial concept. According to them, romance isn't something to lose your head over. There are more pressing issues in this world, like international cooperation and finding out twelve different uses of the dragon blood. Romance simply is not a pressing matter.
On the other hand, he has told her – a complete outsider – about his dead sister. So what is the harm in telling him about the man she once loved?
"Please," Dumbledore says softly, breaking her away from her thoughts. "Sit next to me, Minerva. Tell me what is wrong."
Minerva obeys him. She sits on the desk next to Dumbledore's and begins with her story. How she met Dougal, how she fell for him – she does not leave any detail. She tells him about that summer morning when Dougal proposed. She tells him how she felt over-the-moon at first but in the night, she realizes that she has made a rather rash decision. She tells him about all the thoughts she had that night, imagining about a miserable life with Dougal. She tells him about the life her mother has suffered after her marriage. She tells him about the next morning, the day when she broke his heart without giving him any proper explanation whatsoever. She tells him about her mother's recent letter and Dougal's marriage to that odious, loud Harriet McDonald.
Dumbledore is a good listener.
After she shows him Isobel's letter, Minerva breaks into tears again. Dumbledore doesn't say anything but offers her a tissue. She takes the tissue with trembling fingers and blows her nose. The crying jag has released almost all of the pent-up emotions – jealousy, love, anger, sadness. She feels better, but not much.
"Someone broke my heart once too." Dumbledore finally says. Minerva looks up, straight into his electric blue eyes.
"How did it happen?" Minerva inquires, her voice barely above a whisper.
"They –" Dumbledore says and stops. With difficulty, he continues, "S-she was not what I thought she would be. S-she was someone completely different. You are lucky that your farmer is a good fellow at heart, Minerva. The pain of realization of your lover's hideous character is much worse than the pain of losing him to someone else."
"Oh dear," Minerva says. Spontaneously, she adds, "Would you – would you like to have a biscuit, si- Albus?"
"I wouldn't mind." Dumbledore says, giving a small smile. "I have some acid pops in my pocket. More than a glass of Firewhiskey, a couple of acid pops does wonders to a broken heart. I can vouch for that."
Minerva smiles for the first time today. She knows she has lost the only man she loved. Merlin's beard, who knows if she will ever fall in love? Regardless whether she'll fall in love or no, she knows it that she has found a true friend in Albus Dumbledore.
Maybe, she muses, I did a right thing by not marrying Dougal. Yes, I love him passionately (probably until I die). However, I don't think I can possibly trade this magical world for love like my mother did.
Author's Note:- I hope you all had a very enjoyable Halloween and I really hope you like this story. I've tried to write differently for this fic... hope you like it! Reviews are much appreciated! :)