Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I own nothing. This story is a one-shot.
Inspired by Jimmy Durante's "I'll be seeing you."
Although based on the cannon background of Minerva McGonagall and her first love Dougal McGregor, I have taken some liberties with the story.
Please note that although I use many of the same characters in my stories, they do not occur in the same timeline/universe unless otherwise noted.
And while a memory charm does not cause unconsciousness, for the purposes of this story, it does.
In 1956, Minerva McGonagall said goodbye to Dougal McGregor. But was that really the end of their story?
31 October 1996
Molly Weasley bustled about her kitchen pulling out anything she could to accommodate her late-night, unexpected guests. She felt so sorry for the elderly farmer and his wife that were currently sitting at one end of her table. They seemed very gentle and level-headed given the circumstances. His arm was around his wife and she was rubbing his hand in a comforting manner.
"We're very lucky," the wife said with a small smile.
"I've got a beef stew that won't take but a moment to heat," Molly said trying to be reassuring. She knew she was a nurturer at heart and hoped she could provide some comfort during this time.
"I know it's difficult, but if you could tell me a little more about yourself perhaps we can figure out how this happened," Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.
It had been a half hour since a group of Order Members had shown up at the Burrow with the elderly farmer and his wife. They had been the victims of a targeted attack at the hands of the Death Eaters. Their farm was a loss and they had been lucky to escape with their lives. Shacklebolt had been on assignment in Gillock when he'd received a Patronus warning him of the attack.
He'd immediately apparated to the location he'd been given to find the elderly farmer and his wife sitting in the lounge. He was reading a book while she was listening to the radio. The door had been unlocked and Kingsley had simply walked in. After apologizing for the intrusion, he identified himself as a police officer and asked they accompany him for safety. He was thankful his most recent assignment had provided him with a muggle police service badge and uniform.
Before he could escort them to safety, he heard one apparation pop after another outside. He quickly cast a disillusionment charm on the three of them and pushed the couple out of the still open front door. The couple were confused and alarmed. He could see seven or eight Death Eaters. Keeping to the shadows he lead the couple toward a shadowed barn. The Death Eaters wasted no time in entering the home.
Finding it abandoned, one called out to "search the area" before they set it alight. They Death Eaters began to fan out and set other buildings on fire.
"Come out you witch fucker," one of them taunted.
"Me animals," the farmer whispered frantically as Kingsley led them away from the farm and toward a field.
"Leave them," Kingsley ordered.
After several minutes, the three were standing a safe distance away on a small, hilly field with the burning farm in the distance. Smoke and embers rose high into the night's sky and Kingsley noted the Dark Mark floating above it.
The farmer stood solemnly looking back at his life's work and his home destroyed. His wife wrapped her arm around his and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Come folks," Kingsley said as he grabbed both their hands and apparated to the Burrow.
"We couldn't find anything," Tonks explained as she entered the Burrow accompanied by Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley. The three were covered in soot and looked cold.
"Mr McGregor," Kingsley began to ask but was cut off.
"Dougal, please," the farmer corrected.
"Dougal," Kingsley said with a small smile. "You don't seem shocked by my wand. Have you seen this before?"
Kingsley pulled his wand out of his uniform and set it on the table. Dougal sighed.
"I'm a God fearing man, sir," Dougal explained. "But living in the remote highlands I cannae deny what I've seen over the years. Unexplained things. I think there's enough to put stock into the old legends."
His wife had said nothing at this and turned her head downward toward the floor.
"Do you have any family? We will want to check on them and ensure they are safe," Arthur Weasley inquired.
"Na," Dougal replied. "No' anymore."
"I am sorry," Arthur said gently. "What do you mean?"
"Our children are deceased," Dougal said. "22 years today."
"I'm sorry to pry, but how did your children die?" Kingsley said suddenly feeling a sense of familiarity to the case.
"They were murdered," Alastor Moody said as he limped into the room. In wake of the events that had transpired last Spring, Grimmauld Place was no longer a viable headquarter for the Order. The Burrow had taken on that role and Molly was still trying to get used to Moody being in the house.
"I know you," Dougal said as realization dawned on his face. "You came to us after it happened. You were a detective."
"Aye," Moody acknowledged with a small nod. He was, in fact, slightly pleased that for once someone hadn't recoiled at his grisly appearance.
"Do you think this is related?" Dougal asked in a confused voice. "We never knew why someone would murder our children. There was no motive. We're simple people. We've never even had a land dispute!"
It was true. Dougal and Gerri McGregor were a simple couple that lived a modest life in the remote highlands. Yet, 22 years earlier, their children Callum (11), Simon (7), and their precious little Ellie (3) had been murdered with no explanation. That morning, Dougal and Gerri were out early feeding the animals. When they returned, they peaked in to check on the kids and found them dead with their eyes wide open and no marks or bruises.
It had been a killing curse. The witch or wizard responsible had magically unlocked the widow to the children's bedroom at the small farmhouse and murdered them in the early hours of the morning while the couple were tending to the animals. Moody had recalled there had been a string of muggle children attacked that year. However, this case had stood out because the McGregor's had no involvement with the wizarding world nor were any of the children magical. It was also strange as the home hadn't been destroyed and the muggle parents were left unharmed.
Moody had been especially touched by the case because the McGregor's had adopted the three children little over a year before their murder. He couldn't erase the memories of the couple explaining how they'd learned Gerri couldn't have children. As humble farmers, they'd scrimped and saved over the years in order to afford adoption. A family had always been their dream and in those early morning hours that dream had been shattered.
"But you told us it was unsolved," Gerri said. Her tone was gentle and not accusatory.
"Because it is," Moody explained. "We never solved your children's murders. We never disclosed magic was the cause because we couldn't. Our laws forbid it."
"But we're not witches. We've never made any enemies!" Dougal reasserted.
Arthur tried, best as he could, to explain that some witches and wizards were prejudiced. It was difficult to sum up thousands of years of wizard-muggle relations to a muggle couple in a matter of minutes.
As Molly and Arthur stayed with the couple, the rest of the group headed into the Weasley lounge to discuss what had transpired.
"Are there any other wizarding families in the area?" Tonks asked.
Although Kingsley had been in Gillock on assignment, there were no wizarding families in Gillock. He was there because they were expecting an exchange of Class A Restricted items between two suspected Death Eaters.
"Aye," Moody said as he recounted his time investigating the case. "Yaxley, MacDonald, Macnair, McGonagall, Rosier, and Ross. They're all within the county."
Smack
It wasn't the first time Corban Yaxley had been bound to chair. And he was hoping it wouldn't be his last. Not to say he particularly enjoyed being abducted and interrogated. He didn't. But he was certainly hopeful tonight would end with his release and not murder.
"I sent a warning. It was all I could do," Yaxley explained in slow drawl.
Smack
He knew she was fierce and he feared her wand. He was thankful she'd switched to using her hand instead of her magic. The ropes were far tighter than necessary and she'd charmed the small shed they were in to be incredibly cold. His extremities were numb and he suspected she had experience doing this before. He could see his breath as he instinctively turned as the back of her hand made contact with his jaw.
Smack
"We had an agreement," she snarled.
"Aye, I sent a warning," Yaxley repeated. "Do I 'ave to spell it out for you? They found naebody."
"You had best hope," she said dangerously as she released the ropes binding him to the chair. His hands and feet remained bound. She grabbed him by the collar and with a small pop they disappeared.
For his sake, Yaxley really did hope the elderly farmer and his wife had made it out. He had no intentions of crossing Minerva McGonagall.
1 November 1972
Muggle attacks were on the rise. Over the last two years an increasing number of muggles had faced a gruesome end at the hands of the Death Eaters. Due to their frequency, the Daily Prophet had taken to reporting on the attacks several pages in. They were so commonplace they were no longer front page news.
Minerva had been feeling tired throughout the day, given the previous night's student shenanigans. Halloween had always proven to be a tough night for the Hogwarts staff. She had laid down to catch a cat nap when she heard a light rap rap rap at her window.
Her mother, Isobel, had written an owl to inform her that Dougal McGregor's three children had been murdered the day before and it was presumed to be a muggle attack.
Feelings of guilt washed over Minerva. This attack was her fault. Lately, the Death Eaters had been combing through Order member's personal connections and seeking victims to scare members into stopping their involvement.
Someone must have figured out her connection to Dougal. She had taken many precautions over the years to protect him and his wife. She'd violated Wizarding law by placing a protective charm on his farm. She'd tried her best to erase or hide and connections between them. And in the end she failed him.
What she didn't realize was that her Ministry of Magic file from her employment in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement noted her relationship with Dougal. It was standard procedure for Auror recruits to be carefully investigated before being approached about joining the program. Minerva also never knew she had been nominated, investigated, and ultimately determined "unfit for duty" because of her relationship with Dougal. It had been a different world 20 years earlier.
She was relieved to know he and Gerri were alive but heartbroken of the loss of his children. Dougal had always wanted a family. It was one of the reasons that led to her decision to leave. It would be hard enough marrying a muggle but raising a child would be even more difficult- especially if any children inherited her magical ability.
It only took her moments to determine a course of action.
Corban Yaxley had been shocked to see her arrive at his front door with red eyes and bag of galleons. She listed her demands and offered payment. He countered and in the end they had reached an agreement. The arrangement was set and magically sealed- she'd insisted upon it.
The pair had apparated out to a small hill overlooking the farm and Yaxley found himself incredibly underwhelmed. He couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm sorry, but this? This is what you'd pay a king's ransom for?" He snickered as he took in the humble farm.
Looking through a spyglass he spotted a middle-aged farmer and his wife. The man was tall and broad with dark hair and a short beard. He was starting to grey at the temples. The wife was a plump woman with blonde curls. Their clothes weren't ragged, but they were certainly shabby and to Yaxley's disgust they appeared to be homemade. They were hauling water back and forth from a pump to the barn.
"You'd go through all of this to protect a peasant?" Yaxley chuckled as he couldn't believe it.
"You agreed." Minerva said coldly. Her tone indicated that she did not appreciate his jokes.
"So did you, my dear," Yaxley said with smile.
And so their arrangement had been born. Six monetary payments a year were to be made every two months. That had been Minerva's offer. Six visits a year where Minerva would make herself available for four hours to do whatever Yaxley asked of her. That had been Yaxley's counter-offer. For his part, Yaxley was to ensure that Dougal and Gerri McGregor were unharmed.
They returned to Yaxley's home and Minerva spent the next four hours scrubbing the wooden floors of his manor home while Yaxley strolled about mocking her.
"Do you enjoy this?" He had said. "Is this the life you wanted? Do you understand why muggles are inferior beings? I can't image how your back feels."
3 March 1973
Corban Yaxley had a superior gift for humiliation and mockery. It had made him an excellent interrogator for the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was observant and used it to his advantage to strike at just the right places.
This was Minerva's third visit to Yaxley and she'd come to learn how he enjoyed mocking her. Last month he had requested she extract and share her most private memories of Dougal. She had obliged. While she spent the next three hours cleaning his house the muggle way he'd lounged in his armchair and enjoyed her most personal memories.
However, nothing had prepared her for just how cruel he could be.
"Say his name," Yaxley growled in her ear.
Minerva's eyes opened and she froze. She couldn't find words to respond. In fact, she'd been trying to make as little noise as possible. The only noise had been Yaxley's grunting and the thump of her pelvis hitting the desk. He'd wasted no time in asking her strip down and bend over it. But he had taken an extraordinarily long time in making her wait like that before he'd begun.
"I know you're thinking about him to pass the time," Yaxley said as he bit her ear. His breath was hot on her neck and he reeked of cigar smoke.
"And I know that's what you really want," he added as he slowly thrust into her. Her breath hitched as his left hand moved from her hip up along her side to her neck. He clasped his left hand around her neck and used his right hand to pull her closer to him.
"Say his name," he repeated.
"Dougal," she whispered, barely audible.
"Again," he said as he began to resume.
"Dougal," she said as embarrassment flooded her face.
"Louder," he said as he used the hand on her neck to pull her head back.
"Dougal," she said louder as her back arched painfully and she looked up at the ceiling.
"Again," he demanded.
"Dougal," she repeated as she closed her eyes and thought of him. This all for him she reminded herself. This is the right thing to do. Keep him safe.
She was beginning to grow hoarse from Yaxley's continued demands to increase the volume of her vocalizations and she wondered how much longer he could go. Suddenly, he released the front of her neck. Before she could react, he grabbed the back of her head and pushed her down over the desk. She hadn't been expecting it and was unable to turn her face in time. She hit her chin squarely on the top of the desk and bit her tongue to keep from crying out.
He finished in a moment and Minerva was thankful he'd stopped. But his hand still sat on the back of her head as he stood over her.
"Say thank you," Yaxley said as he stood over her.
"Thank you," she repeated emotionlessly.
He released her and she stood up, touching her chin and feeling the blood. She turned around to grab her clothes but he stopped her.
Standing there staring at her, he lightly took hold of her chin.
"Tut, tut," he snickered as he inspected the damage. "You're quite a minx. And just look where it gets you."
11 July 1983
"Does your husband know?" Yaxley asked. He was sitting under a big umbrella, safe from the July heat, enjoying an ice-cold drink.
Minerva, meanwhile, was stuck gardening in the heat. As per Yaxley's rules, she did so without the advantage of magic. She'd been out there for nearly three hours already as the sun bore down.
"Know what?" She inquired sitting back on her knees and hoping to delay answering.
"About your farmer," Yaxley laughed.
"No," she answered.
"So he doesn't know about this arrangement either?" Yaxley inquired.
"Obviously not," Minerva retorted dryly as she wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm.
"I suppose he wouldn't appreciate knowing one of his coworkers was fucking his wife," Yaxley snickered. "Are you intimate with your beloved Elphinstone?"
"Yes," Minerva answered slowly. One condition of their arrangement was honesty. Both Yaxley and Minerva had to be honest with one another. He certainly had gotten the advantage with that condition.
"Come," he said as he rose from his chair and signaled for her to follow him.
Yaxley led her through his garden and out past his property. They walked through a field as he mocked her dirty appearance from the gardening.
"If you really had become a farmer's wife you'd always look this grubby," he sneered.
They reached a slow-moving burn and Yaxley stopped at the edge.
"You look quite overheated, my dear," he said as he pushed her in.
Minerva was, in fact, very grateful for the cool water as she had grown very hot in the sun. The burn wasn't very deep and she could sit up in it. However, she didn't have long to enjoy the cool water as Yaxley came over and offered her hand up.
After pulling her up and onto the grass, he pulled her close and ran his hand down her back.
"Really?" Yaxley said with a grin.
"Really, what?" Minerva asked, not understanding the context of his question.
"You and old Urquart. You really let him fumble around on top of you?" Yaxley said with a smirk.
"We're very happy," Minerva replied coldly as she looked away from him. The age gap between her and her husband had been a sensitive subject and she knew it was a gossip piece at both of their workplaces.
"Or does he just lay there and you do all the work?" Yaxley asked as he pressed against her.
"We share a mutual, loving relationship," she snapped as she turned her head back to him.
"Isn't that just lovely," he said in a mocking tone as he began to peel her wet clothes off. Being a man of very little patience he opted instead to simply rip her dress in half.
"After you, milady," he smiled as he waved his hand at the grass.
Minerva laid back onto the grass as Yaxley unbutton his trousers above her.
"Such pale skin," he remarked as he ran his hand down the side of her face.
She spent the last of hour of her July obligation staring up into the clouds as Yaxley proceeded to mark her body. He attacked her neck, scratched her back violently, and left bite marks and bruises on her breasts and thighs.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy explaining these to him," Yaxley said as he thrust into her. "I know I'll enjoy seeing it next time we meet."
She wasn't sure what caused her to snap but it was in that moment she used all her force to roll them both over so she was on top. Biting his neck hard, hard enough to leave a mark, she smiled down at him.
"As will you," she smirked.
He laughed. It was a deep chuckle and for a brief moment Minerva felt like perhaps she'd found a way to check his behavior and gain some footing in the arrangement. That was shattered as the back of his hand made sharp contact with her cheek.
She sat back, stunned by the fact that he'd openly smacked her like that.
"Don't you ever touch me like that again," he said with a dangerous smile as he stood up.
She said nothing and he backhanded her again.
"Do you understand?" He asked.
"Y-yes," she stammered as she brought a hand up to feel her bleeding mouth.
He grabbed her by her forearm and threw her across the grass.
"This isn't a part of our agreement," she said as he walked toward her.
"Anything. The agreement is whatever I want to do with you for four hours. And right now I want you to understand what a degenerate blood traitor you are," he said as he kicked her side.
She rolled onto her back and clutched her side. He grabbed her drug her to the burn. Pulling her into the water he held her down under it. Releasing her she came up gasping for air. Before she could catch her breath, he pushed her down below the water again and held her there.
Despite the magically binding agreement, Minerva fought back. This, this was completely out of the bounds of the spirit of the arrangement. Yaxley had spent the last eleven years slowly pushing the envelope and this time he'd gone too far.
He continued to pull her up for a few brief seconds before pushing her back below the water until, using the last of her strength, she was able to speak.
"Please!" She screamed as he pulled her up from the water.
He stopped briefly and Minerva seized the opportunity. Turning into her animagus form she escaped his grasp and darted to her torn clothes. Grabbing her clothes and wand she ran as fast as she could away from him.
She'd apparated home and was thankful her husband was not home. Inspecting her reflection in the mirror she took in her bruised flesh. Her body she could cover, although her ribs were quite injured from the kick she'd sustained. She suspected she'd cracked one but potions for treating such ailments weren't possible to obtain for personal use. They could only be administered by a trained Healer.
Unfortunately, her face was whole other matter. He'd really done a number on it. A large blue bruise ran across her cheek and down into her chin. Her lip was bleeding. Her nose was quite swollen. Her left eye had taken a hit and was surrounded by a nasty shade of green and yellow and small cut was bleeding next to her eye. Across her left cheek, his ring had cut the skin. It was deep and long and couldn't be easily covered with a charm or makeup.
She had only been home for a few moments when she heard a knock at the door. Glancing out the window she saw Corban Yaxley standing at her cottage door.
"Go away," she said through the door, refusing to open it for her own safety.
"We have an arrangement," he reminded her.
"Th-That, that wasn't," she struggled to find the words. "You've crossed the line and there's no going back."
"Open the door," he repeated as he placed his hands in his pockets and swayed back and forth.
She leaned back against the door and sighed.
"If you don't open the door I'll take you last payment use to buy a farm accident," he said.
Realization hit Minerva harder than Yaxley had and she swung the door open quickly.
"You can't," she said with a smug grin.
"Oh don't think I I'm not capable," he countered.
"You can't," she repeated as her grin grew wider. She cocked her head and, for once, was glad to have the upper hand.
"I most certainly can," he said with a smile as he leaned in towards her.
"You most certainly can't," she said with confidence. "You need that money to settle your own debts."
As of late, part of their arrangement had involved Minerva doing Yaxley's bookkeeping. He'd incurred significant debts since the fall of Voldemort. He'd been paying off Ministry officials, reporters, and fellow Death Eaters to keep his name from suspicion and to keep himself out of Azkaban. Minerva's payments were the only thing keeping him afloat at the moment.
"I see," he replied.
"Now, you may come in and discuss our arrangement on my terms or you can explain to your associates why their hush money has suddenly gone dry," she said as she motioned for him enter.
9 July 1985
Yaxley sat in his armchair smoking. As per their revised arrangement, he'd been much physically humane toward her. However, being a master of mockery he'd found a way to enjoy himself. He'd seen her memories. He knew the things she'd shared with her husband. He knew the kind things that old wizard had whispered to her during their most intimate moments. And he would take amusement in mocking her with them.
He walked over to where she was working at his desk. Her glasses were perched at the end of her nose as she worked through his monthly expenses. Walking up behind her he began to rub her shoulders, like he'd seen her husband do. He could feel her tense up as soon as he'd touched her. As he whispered into her ear he repeated the words her husband had said.
"Is nothing sacred to you?" She asked as he planted a soft kiss on her neck.
Although his behavior was physically gentle, it was menacing and unwelcome nonetheless.
Several hours later Minerva was thankful to be home. The door was unlocked and she called to her husband as she entered. He was home for the day and they'd been looking forward to spending the late afternoon down by the loch. When she entered the kitchen she noticed a kettle that had boiled dry on the fire. It was very unlike her husband to forget.
"Darling?" She called out as she made her way to their study only to discover it empty.
In fact, the whole house was empty. She walked out the back door and noticed he wasn't on the veranda either. This wasn't right and she felt a sudden panic rise within her. She decided she'd check the greenhouse and then down toward the loch.
Approaching the greenhouse she first noticed the door was open. Secondly, her husband was lying in the doorway. His eyes were open and he multiple marks that looked like bites on his hands, shoulders, and face.
"Please," she said aloud in a prayer to any God that would listen as she bent down toward him.
Taking him in her arms she felt his temperature. He was cool to the touch. There was no pulse. His eyes were open and lifeless. Holding him, she wept because twice, twice in her life she'd been unable to protect the man she'd loved.
It hadn't taken long for the Ministry to arrive. She'd sent a Patronus to Alastor Moody and he'd informed the appropriate chain of command. Apparently he'd also informed Professor Dumbledore as the man had come walking up the path to her cottage with Poppy Pomfrey in tow.
The investigators determined the cause of death to be bites from a venomous tentacula. It appeared the plant had become defensive while Mr. Urquart had administered a topical anti-pest treatment. The wizard had fought with the plant before escaping. He'd stumbled to the door, but collapsed shortly after reaching it. Venomous tentacula venom disoriented and paralyzed its victims. The venom itself didn't actually kill the victim until about 30 minutes after being administered.
"I'm responsible for this," Minerva said softly as she sat with her back to the greenhouse.
Moody raised an eyebrow and looked at her. She was exactly what he had expected- stoic with red eyes.
"Why?" He asked simply.
"If I had been home, I would have found him in time," she replied emotionlessly.
"Where were you?" Moody asked. His question was not accusatory. He hoped by learning where she'd been that he could explain it wasn't her fault. This was merely a freak accident. But he grew alarmed when she didn't answer.
Instead, she turned her eyes toward him and shook her head.
"She was with me at my home," Yaxley said as he walked towards them. Yaxley had no doubt heard about the incident and as a senior member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had decided to come.
"I shouldn't have been there. This is all my fault." Minerva said wracked with guilt as she sobbed silently against the greenhouse wall. "I couldn't protect him."
"Protect him from what?" Moody asked with sudden curiosity. Elphinstone Urquart was- had been – a senior official with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He'd certainly made more than a few enemies during his nearly fifty year tenure with the Ministry. He was a fair, but tenacious MLE employee that had been responsible for putting away many dark witches and wizards.
But Minerva didn't respond. She turned away from Moody and looked down toward the loch. She desperately wanted to be left alone at the moment. There were Ministry officials, MLE employees and investigators, Hogwarts staff, neighbors, and even reporters combing around property and sitting inside her home.
At the same time, the thought of being alone terrified her. Once they left, they would take his body. The day would end.
Today would be her last day ever with her beloved husband. When the realization hit- it sucked the air from her lungs, her chest grew tight, her stomach dropped, and she felt uncomfortably warm.
Moody needed to speak with several members of his team so he left Minerva alone against the greenhouse. She had pulled her late husband over and was cradling him in her lap. With one hand she held onto his, the other stroked his silver hair.
Yaxley kneeled down beside her and wiped his hand across her cheek brushing away a tear.
"My condolences on your loss," he said.
"Shut up," Minerva said sharply.
"I really am sorry for you," he replied.
"Please just go," she choked out louder than she intended.
He wasn't sure if it was keen hearing or instinct, but something told Moody to watch the conversation that was unfolding just a few feet away.
"There, there, my dear." Yaxley said as he continued to wipe away her tears. "I only said you were at my home. I didn't tell them what you were doing there."
She didn't notice him casually pull several strands of hair from her husband's head.
"Get tae fuck," she snapped under her breath at him.
11 July 1985
Alastor Moody had been unable to shake the conversation he'd overheard between Minerva McGonagall and Corban Yaxley. There had been no indication that Elphinstone Urquart's untimely demise was anything other than a freak accident. But the exchange he'd overhead, coupled with Minerva's odd sense of guilt, made Moody uneasy.
Two days after Urquart's death, Moody decided to confront Yaxley about what exactly Minerva McGonagall had been doing at his house that day. It was convenient that they worked in the same department. Strolling over to Yaxley's office, he took his chance.
"Morning Yaxley," Moody said greeting the man. Yaxley responded by looking up from his desk with a smile.
"I forgot to ask the other day," Moody started as he swirled a mug of coffee. "What was the purpose of Minerva's visit to your home? Just for the purpose of official investigation thoroughness, of course."
"Of course, just for the purpose of official investigation thoroughness," Yaxley said as he indicated that he knew exactly what Moody was implying.
"The Professor was at my house as my guest," Yaxley said cryptically.
"What is the nature of your relationship with Minerva McGonagall?" Moody asked bluntly.
"It's a business relationship," Yaxley replied easily. Technically, he wasn't lying.
"And the nature of your business relationship is?" Moody pushed.
"Personal," Yaxley replied with a smile. "Will that be all?"
14 November 1985
Minerva had shown up at Yaxley's home precisely at their predetermined time with her payment. Although she had wanted nothing more than to avoid this house forever, she had an obligation to protect Dougal and Minerva McGonagall had always taken duty seriously.
A few minutes earlier it had started to rain. Hard. The type of rain that blew sideways and hurt the face. They were in for a nasty bowder. After a few moments a young house elf opened the door and ushered her in.
Upstairs, Yaxley was sitting in his armchair with his back to the door. He was sitting in front of a large fireplace.
"Come in," he ordered and she stepped into the room.
"Take those clothes off. They're sopping wet and you must be freezing. Come over to the fire," Yaxley said with the sickening sweetness of false care.
She peeled off her wet robes and stepped out of them. She untied her boots slowly and set them upside down on the floor. As she approached the fire she could smell that he'd been drinking.
"You look frozen," he said as he took in her appearance. "Why don't you take your hair down and go in to the bedroom. I've had them lay out some clothes in there for you."
Yaxley pointed at the doors across the way. He had a private lounge with a fireplace and seating that led into a private study. Beyond the study was his bedroom. As did most high society pureblood families, the Yaxley's had private bedrooms.
Minerva had never been in Yaxley's bedroom. Although their arrangement had involved numerous sexual liaisons, he had never allowed her into his bedroom. In fact, Corban Yaxley had never permitted anyone besides his house elves into his bedroom.
"Go on," he encouraged. "Through the door. I'll be in shortly."
As she entered the room she immediately noted how dark it was. The weather didn't help. Despite the fact that the thick, dark curtains had been pulled back, the squall outside had darkened the sky. It contributed to the darkness in the room. From what she could see, there were large, dark furnishings including an enormous baroque era bed. In the light, it displayed beautiful ornate wooden carvings and had been made nearly 300 years earlier.
Minerva noticed a green dress robe laid across the bed. As per Yaxley's instructions, she slipped it on. It was very fine, she noted. It was also likely quite expensive. She got a sickening feeling as she wondered if it belonged to his wife. It was certainly something worn by the likes of Madame Celia Yaxley. Just like her husband, she was old money.
Minerva had known her during their time at Hogwarts. Both had been members of the prestigious Slug Club along with Corban Yaxley. And although Madame Celia was an intelligent and charming woman, her family no doubt saw the Slug Club as an opportunity to window shop for suitors. Through the years, Minerva had seen Madame Celia's name appear in the newspaper for various society and philanthropy events. After her marriage, Minerva had seen Madame Celia at a number of formal functions as both their husbands were high level officers within the Ministry. However, Madame Celia had never been bothered to politely converse with Minerva- even when they had been seated at the same table.
In fact, the only time Madame Celia Yaxley had conversed with Minerva was to ask her if it was true that her mother had married a muggle.
"Pity," Madame Celia had said as she swirled her wine. "But just look at you. By all accounts you should be a pariah given your mother – quite the debutante- eloped with that muggle."
Minerva had become quite accustomed to comments about her mother's "fall" from high society.
"And now you've married into one of the oldest pureblood families," Madame Celia continued referencing Minerva's marriage to Elphinstone. "Well done."
Yes, Minerva surmised. This was definitely the type of dress that Madame Celia Yaxley would wear. It was long and dark green. Minerva rather liked the long sleeves and high neckline. However, the dress certainly clung to her and the cut meant her back was entirely exposed.
"Close your eyes," Corban Yaxley said as he entered his bedroom.
Minerva closed her eyes.
"Yes," he said as he approached her. "It's one of a kind."
He walked up behind her as she faced the mirror. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a large, exquisite necklace and placed it around her neck. Pulling her hair to the side he took in her appearance.
"This will do," he said as he ran his hand up and down her exposed spine.
"May I open my eyes?" She asked.
"Not yet," he replied as he slipped a blindfold on her.
His hand stopped and Minerva could feel that he stepped away from her. She kept her eyes closed.
"Next week is the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Annual Charity Ball. And, of course, they are honoring your late husband with some dedication plaque or something," Yaxley said dismissively.
"It's a scholarship," Minerva snapped defensively. "For students who want to enter the Auror corp."
"How lovely," Yaxley sneered. "You'll be there. And you'll wear this dress. If I ask you to dance, you'll dance. If I ask you promote my name to the Minister, you'll do it. If I ask you to jump, you'll ask how high. Is that clear?"
"Our arrangement does not include activities outside of your home," Minerva stated. "This violates the spirit of our agreement."
"I understand completely," Corban said. "It is your choice, after all. If you'd rather not then you can take off the dress and get on the bed."
"Fine," Minerva said as she slipped out of the gown and it dropped unceremoniously on the floor. She brought her hand around to take off the necklace. As her hands fumbled for a latch, Yaxley stopped her.
"Keep it on," he said as he caught her wrist. He kept a hold of her hand as he guided her over to the bed.
She laid back onto the bed and she could feel him climb on top of her. He told her she could remove the blindfold and Minerva found herself face-to-face with her late husband. Her momentary shock was displaced by resentment as Yaxley smiled at her.
"I thought I'd like to do something nice for you, given your husband's passing," he said.
"Come closer," she said innocently with a fake sense of wonder. She knew in her current position she was disadvantaged. She needed to physically gain the upper hand.
He leaned in closer and she ran her hand down his cheek. She touched his hair and looked into his eyes. Reverting to her experience in the Order, she feigned sadness.
"I'm sorry," she said as she looked away from him. He rolled off of her.
"Polyjuice Potion," Yaxley explained with a smugness that did little to hide that he had been quite proud of himself for seizing the opportunity.
Minerva herself was ready to seize the opportunity that the candlestick on his nightstand provided her. It would be his disadvantage that it was a massive, heavy antique.
"This is very- well- I can't really put words to it," she said laying it on thick as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed in order to hide her reach for the candlestick.
"Then don't use words," he said as he reached over to run his hand along her back. "I'm sure you can find other ways to say thank you."
"Or goodbye," Minerva said as she swung the candlestick around with the rage that had compelled her.
Indeed, it was a heavy antique. It had taken some force to swing and had made a nasty crack when it contacted with her tormentor. The candlestick had struck him squarely on the face and Yaxley fell backwards off the bed. He was stunned, but not unconscious.
"Our arrangement is over," Minerva declared as she backed out of the room gripping the candlestick, ready to swing if he approached. He stumbled the first time he tried to stand. He was bleeding heavily along the side of his face. He pulled himself up and grabbed his wand. It was a strange feeling for Minerva. She knew it wasn't really her husband, but the scene was still unsettling.
"If you walk out that door I will kill your farmer," he threatened.
"No. You won't." Minerva replied unflinchingly.
"You know as well as I do that my finances are no longer a concern," Yaxley reminded her. It was true. Although he had previously relied on Minerva's payments, his debts were now paid.
"You think I won't find them?" He said as he walked toward her. "I know all about the money you've set aside. I know all about your inquiries into buying a little home in Bournemouth."
He grew closer and she backed out into the doorway, still clutching the candlestick and ready to strike.
"You can try to hide them," Yaxley said as he closed the gap between them. "But I will find them."
It disturbed her that he knew so much about her plan. She'd been secretly putting away money for years in the hopes of moving Dougal and his wife to protect them. After her husband's death, Minerva had planned to use his life insurance to cover the remaining expenses.
She felt trapped and she didn't know how to respond. Yaxley stepped closer and pulled the candlestick out of her hand. She let him take it knowing she would need to reevaluate her plans before trying to end the arrangement. Yaxley put his arms around her and they stood silently as the rain and wind outside pummeled the Yaxley estate.
For Minerva it was familiar yet all too surreal to be standing in the arms of her late husband's doppelganger.
"It's your choice my dear," he said as he kissed the top of her head.
"No matter how hard you try, I won't let you ruin my husband's memory," Minerva said resolutely as she broke away from him and picked up the dress.
A week later, Minerva found out that the dress was, in fact, the property of Madame Celia Yaxley. It had been awkward evening. Yaxley had danced a little too closely. His hand rested a little too low on her waist. Periodically, he would run his hand down her exposed spine.
All the while, he did these actions discreetly. To the casual observer there was no behavior that would seem out of line. However, it did not escape the keen eye of Alastor Moody. Nor did it escape the watch of Madame Celia.
"I know about your relationship with my husband and I've known for some time," Madame Celia whispered as she gave Minerva a hug under the guise of comfort. "And don't flatter yourself because I don't care. Don't ever help yourself to my wardrobe again."
Her comments had reinforced Minerva's suspicion that Yaxley had used her to upset his wife. She'd often wondered if his wife knew of their arrangement. However, Minerva assumed, based on her comments, that Madame Celia thought the arrangement was an affair of the heart rather than a business arrangement.
"All the better," Minerva told herself. It was safer that way.
But Madame Celia wasn't the only one. Alastor Moody was thinking the same thing- as much as he didn't want to. And being a straightforward man he felt he needed to ask her directly. He'd considered both her and his late colleague to be friends. He'd not seen her wracked by grief since his death. And while she was an emotionally strong person, he felt her behavior tonight- especially around Yaxley- had been odd.
So he asked her to dance.
"What are you playing at, Minerva?" Moody asked her as he took her hand.
"Regarding what?" Minerva questioned.
"Corban Yaxley," Moody said into her ear. He wasn't going to play coy. "How could you do this to Stoney?"
Stoney had been Elphinstone's nickname in the department. It was misnomer. Despite his reputation as a tenacious officer, he was genial and upbeat.
"How could you do this with him of all people?" Moody asked.
She didn't answer his accusations, which struck Moody as odd. She looked away from him and he could tell he had hit a sore spot. It was unlike her. As if on cue, Corban Yaxley walked up and asked if he could step in. When Minerva said nothing, Moody stalked off in disbelief.
"A cornerstone of this arrangement was discretion," Minerva said. "Your wife knows. Apparently this is her dress. And Moody is suspicious."
"Well don't worry about Celia. I used you to get under her skin. It's nothing personal," he said as if his words were to somehow be of comfort. "And Moody is exactly why I stepped in. You're welcome."
He pulled her closer so that her head was flush against his shoulder.
"So he's suspicious that we're lovers and you decided instead of distancing yourself the best course of action would be to jump right in?" she questioned.
Later that evening, in passing, Moody caught her on his way to leave.
"We each did a lot of things in the war that we're not proud of," Moody said with sadness. "But I never took you for a whore."
31 October 1996
Alastor Moody had never forgotten that conversation and although it was unexpected, he wasn't shook to see Minerva and Yaxley arrive.
As for Molly Weasley, she didn't think anything else could shock her tonight after the late night, unexpected appearance of the McGregors at her doorstep. But that was, of course, until Minerva McGonagall had shown up at her doorstep with a bound and beaten Corban Yaxley.
"Oh good heavens!" Molly exclaimed as she saw them. Collecting herself, she added "Please, come in."
Minerva stepped inside the Burrow and drug Yaxley along with her. His bound feet prevented him from walking and Minerva didn't seem to care. She dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. Both Arthur and Molly drew their wands.
"Oh don't mind me," Yaxley said after he was dropped. "I'll just be down here if you need me."
"Molly, I apologize for the intrusion. I need to know if Kingsley's contacted you about a muggle attack?" Minerva said matter-of-factly.
Kingsley, Tonks, Remus, Bill, and Moody had walked into the kitchen upon hearing the new arrival.
"Professor," Tonks said as she came into the room. "Whoa." She added upon seeing Yaxley.
"Minerva McGonagall." Dougal McGregor said simply as he stood from his chair.
Minerva dropped her wand and looked over to the farmer. She hadn't noticed his presence prior to him speaking, but now he commanded all of her attention.
"This is Dougal McGregor and his wife Gerri," Kingsley said presuming they didn't know each other. "I received a patronus earlier warning of me a planned attack against them."
"What was the patronus?" Minerva asked, almost offhandedly, never moving her eyes from the farmer in the corner.
"A fox," Kingsley said awkwardly as he eyed her and the farmer staring intensely at one another.
They stared deeply at one another. His dark blue eyes hadn't changed. But his hair was no longer black. That had faded to white long ago. Minerva wasn't surprised. She'd kept tabs on him- discretely- over the years. She'd watched him age from a strong, attractive young man into a handsome and soft middle aged man and finally into a distinguished and calloused old man. Wizards and muggles aged differently. Minerva had always known it would be like this.
Dougal stared at the woman before him. No doubt she had aged. But somehow, like her mother, she'd aged gracefully. Even grey at the temples and crow's feet around her eyes, she still looked like the woman he'd remembered- a woman he hadn't seen in 40 years.
"You are Minerva McGonagall," Dougal repeated as he reached into his sweater pocket to retrieve a worn leather wallet. Carefully he pulled a faded photograph and threw it on the table.
"Ya left with no word, no explanation, and yer family said naught," Dougal said softly. His voice was steady, but his eyes held a deep sadness.
"I spent three years looking for you," he said as his breathing grew rapid.
"Dougie," his wife said as she reached for his. "Please. You're distraught. I'm sorry ma'am he gets upset over this woman from years earlier and-"
"It's her," Dougal stated.
Minerva said nothing. The whole kitchen was quiet except for the ragged breathing of an elderly Scottish farmer with 40 years of pent up emotion.
"I knew what you were," he exclaimed angrily. "I knew you were different. I didn't care."
"Dougie, please calm down," Gerri said as she tugged softly on his arm. "The doctor. Your heart."
"My heart," he said sadly as he looked at Minerva. His dark blue eyes began to fill with tears and shook his head softly.
Minerva bit her lip and turned her head away from him. Sighing, she turned back and visibly struggled to find words. There so much unsaid. There was so much she wanted to say. Her lip quivered and a tear rolled down her face as she tried to maintain her composure.
His momentary outburst had fallen away and Minerva stared at the gentle, heartbroken farmer she'd always loved.
"I know I didn't 'ave much. Was being a farmer's wife no' good enough for yah?" He added as he looked at her.
"Obliviate," Minerva said unflinchingly as she pointed her wand at the muggle couple.
"What just happened?" Tonks asked frankly.
"I would also like an explanation," Moody said gruffly.
"To start with, what the hell is he doing here?" Moody added as he pointed his wand at Yaxley.
"I was enjoying a nice evening at home and a glass of whiskey before she showed up," Yaxley explained as he lay on the floor.
"Could you please move them to the other room?" Minerva said indicating toward the McGregors.
Remus and Molly obliged her request and carefully levitated the elderly couple out of the kitchen and into the lounge.
"Was he behind it?" Moody said as he approached Yaxley.
Minerva shook her head.
"You were the warning, weren't you?" Kingsley said recalling the fox patronus he'd received. Very few officers within the MLE would have known of Shacklebolt's assignment and Yaxley had been one of them.
"Yes. And I don't really see why I'm still here," Yaxley said frustrated.
Wordlessly, with a flip of her wrist, his bindings loosened and fell off. Yaxley stood and carefully massaged his hands trying to work some blood flow back into them.
"Go," Minerva said without looking at Yaxley.
"Thanks, love," he said with a wink.
"Go," she repeated slowly.
"You can't just let him go," Moody said in disbelief.
"And what would you charge me with?" Yaxley asked with a smirk. "Warning of an attack against muggles? Saving their lives?"
"Why the change of heart? Why now?" Moody said as he demanded an answer.
"It wasn't a change of heart. It was business," Yaxley answered. "And my business is personal."
Minerva grabbed Yaxley and roughly escorted him out of the door.
"What the hell is going on?" Moody asked as soon as Yaxley was out the door.
"They'll be awake soon," Minerva said. "We don't have much time.
With a wave of her wand she transformed her robes into a muggle suit. Smoothing down her skirt she took a seat at the Weasley table and explained that she had a series of requests for the group.
"I thank you all for your cooperation and I promise I will explain everything after they've left," she said, adding the last part upon seeing Moody's expression.
Dougal McGregor woke up in an unfamiliar home. It was a strange room. Although similar to an ordinary lounge, there were some distinctly odd features that set it apart. The strangest feature was a large grandfather clock that had numerous hands with names written across them. His wife was sitting and chatting softly with a plump red-haired woman.
"Where am I?" He asked softly.
"Hello Mr. McGregor," Minerva said entering the room. She motioned toward Molly, "You're in the home of Arthur and Molly Weasley. They are neighbors of yours. It was quicker and more comfortable than taking you all the way to the clinic."
After several initial questions, Minerva took the McGregor's into the kitchen where the gang was ready to play their respective parts. She had a very soundly concocted story and it appeared the McGregor's were buying it.
"We found you unconscious. Likely from the smoke," Minerva said. "It appears faulty wiring caused the fire."
"We knew there was old wiring," Dougal said with sadness in eyes. "We were planning to rewire that outlet. It had been a rough year last year and we put it off. I thought we had more time."
"Now, we've been in contact with your family and-"Minerva started to say but was cut off by Gerri.
"We don't have any family," Gerri said.
"I'm sorry, memory loss is not uncommon. I'm sure your memories will fill in as time goes on," Minerva explained. "Now, your nephew has offered to have you join him."
Minerva pulled out a photograph and gave it to the couple. She explained that the photo had come from Dougal's wallet. It was a picture of a middle aged man and woman and three young children.
"That's your nephew, Roderick, and his family," she explained as she pointed to the man in the photo. He was tall. He had dark hair and was dressed in a muggle suit and tie.
"He works for the Foreign and Commonwealth Office and lives in Portugal," Minerva said with a smile."They have a farm and you would be welcome to live there with them. Your insurance settlement is more than enough to take care of you so can enjoy your days."
"Insurance settlement?" Dougal said in disbelief.
"Yes, Mr. McGregor. Your farm had a sizable insurance policy. I'm certain you can find ways to spend it on your great nieces and nephews," she said with a wide grin.
The McGregor's looked shocked and confused. Gerri was staring intently at the photograph of their newly discovered "family."
"He looks just like you when you were a young man," Gerri said to Dougal. "Although you never dressed as sharp." She added with a small laugh.
"We've never even been out of the country except when I was in Korea," Dougal explained.
"Everything will be arranged for you," Minerva said with a reassuring smile.
"I'm sorry, have we met? You're so familiar," Dougal asked Minerva.
"Yes," she said simply as the room awaited an explanation. "I'm the solicitor of your late sister's estate."
"I have a sister?" Dougal questioned.
"You did," Minerva lied. "She died 40 years ago."
"I don't remember her," Dougal said as tears of frustration formed in his eyes. Minerva reached across the table to touch his hand.
"I know it's hard. But you have your family waiting for you," Minerva said with deep empathy.
"I couldn't have children," Gerri said as she set the photo down on the table. "And although I don't remember these kids, I look forward to getting to know them again."
"Officer Shacklebolt will escort you to the airport. We've secured travel on a train to London. You'll find a sleeper car with fresh clothes waiting at the station," Minerva explained.
The McGregor's were extremely grateful for the hospitality shown to them and profusely thanked the actors whom they believed were neighbors, police officers, and a medic. Minerva had requested Moody check the property outside to ensure Yaxley really did leave. However, Moody knew the real reason was that his appearance often frightened muggles. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that his appearance often frightened wizarding folk too.
As they prepared to depart with Kingsley, the McGregor's were still shocked but also overjoyed. They couldn't recall their family or ever having had money. They got by month by month and struggled to maintain their farm. However, it appeared that overnight- in the midst of tragedy- their deepest desire of having a family was a reality. Minerva had given them an "advance" on their settlement.
"Thank you," Gerri said as she hugged each of the people present in the kitchen. She was overcome with joy and her tears were from happiness.
"What are their names? I'd like to get them something at the airport," Gerri said to Minerva, eager to treat the children she'd only dreamed of having.
"Owen is the oldest and he enjoys maths and science. He wants to be just like his father. That's Tulius," she explained as she pointed out the children in the photograph. "He's a little naturalist in the making. Sharks are his favorite animal. And this is their wee little girl, Isobel. She's five and brilliant. She loves to read."
"Thank you," said Dougal as he reached out and shook her hand.
Minerva was both heartbroken and thankful that he wasn't someone who hugged others often. She very well might come undone if he hugged her. She reached out her hand and shook his return, knowing it would be the last time she would ever see him. Dougal and Gerri departed with Kingsley who would transport them, via a car he'd secured, to London.
Upon their departure, Moody came into the house and stood in the doorway. Molly waved her wand and dishes started flying. The fire roared and eggs began to float and crack themselves one-by-one into a skillet. A large can of beans opened and poured itself into a separate pan.
"I think we could all do with a bit of breakfast while we chat," Molly said as she clapped her hands together.
"Thank you, but I can't be staying," Minerva said with a smile.
"I was looking forward to story time," Tonks replied as she settled down at the table.
"I think it's best left alone," Remus commented. He didn't fully understand what had transpired. Despite his strong desire to know what had happened- and his interest in ensuring Minerva was OK- he knew it wasn't his business.
"I appreciate all of your help tonight," Minerva said as she looked around the room. "However, I really must get going. The McGregor's were targeted many years ago by the Death Eaters. It appears Corban Yaxley is playing the same game he did last time- he's trying to find opportunities he can use in case things don't work out for the Dark Lord."
Her explanation did little to satisfy their curiosity. Moody in particular wasn't buying it. Although her statement made sense, he had a feeling he had figured out what was happening. She excused herself and quickly made her way out the door.
"She shouldn't be alone," Molly said as she started toward the door.
"Leave her be," Moody said flatly. He knew she wanted to be alone. He also knew Molly's words were right. Minerva shouldn't be alone, despite what she wanted.
The temperature had dropped. The hours before dawn were always the coldest part of the night. It was also the quietest and calmest part of the night. The Black Lake was quiet. There was little wind and so the loch stood still. It was a clear night so the stars shone on the surface of the lake.
Alastor found Minerva sitting in the grass on a small hill that overlooked the water. He knew she would be there. The cottage she had shared with her husband sat abandoned behind her. Up the same path sat the greenhouse. Although she had moved out of her home 11 years earlier, Minerva had never sold it.
"They were targeted because of a relationship to you," Moody said. "I can't fathom how or why, but I suspect someone found a connection between you and that farmer."
She didn't acknowledge him.
"Dougal McGregor never had a sister," Moody said in an accusatory tone. "Tulius isn't a common name. How interesting that the McGregor's great-nephew would be named after Stoney's father."
"Compelling," Minerva said sarcastically.
"Did Stoney know?" Moody asked.
"The world was a different place in 1956," Minerva responded.
Minerva stood up and turned to Moody. He could tell she'd been crying. Her eyes were red. The secrets she had carried for 40 years had taken their toll. She thought for a moment about the relief she would feel from sharing the burden with someone else. Alastor Moody was trustworthy. He'd certainly never shared his suspicions with anyone else.
Minerva had spent her life devoting her time, money, and sanity to protecting the McGregor family, including her son. She'd never told Dougal. It would have been too difficult to try and raise a child together between two worlds- especially if her son had ever turned out to be magical.
She had carefully impersonated a solicitor representing her son's "mother." She'd monitored his progress carefully by corresponding through letters from his "Aunt Gerri and Uncle Dougal." He'd grown up an orphan, but Minerva had ensured he'd received lots of affection and guidance through their correspondence. She'd sent gifts and ensured he'd attended exceptional educational institutes.
She had been relieved that as he grew, he displayed no signs of magic.
She desperately wanted to tell Moody. She'd never told Dougal. He'd never even suspected. Elphinstone was a different story. She'd told him during one of her rejections to his numerous proposals. Shockingly, he told her that he had known she was pregnant back in 1956. When she left his employment he had suspected as much. However, he had always assumed she'd terminated the pregnancy and that he had respected her privacy to do so. She'd informed him that she'd given her child up for adoption and watched his progress from afar. He'd asked to meet her son and Minerva had refused.
Elphinstone had never asked again.
In some ways it had hurt, as Minerva had longed for somehow to talk to about her son. In the end, she was thankful he'd never pressed it.
Now, a part of her wanted, desperately, to share this with Alastor. She wanted him to understand that everything she did, she did for love. She wanted him to know that Yaxley disgusted her and how deeply she had cared for her husband.
But she couldn't bring herself to find the words to describe it. She knew it would open the floodgates on years of compartmentalized pain and resentment. She knew it would do nothing to burden Moody with her secrets.
And she knew that it would be self-serving to try and justify her actions.
"What I don't understand is just up and leaving him like a phantom," Moody explained. "What you did was cold. And I could tell by the way he looked at you that it hurt him, deep. And I can tell that it hurts you, too."
Minerva kept her silence. He was right. Her actions had caused a lifetime of pain for the man she'd loved.
"The only thing I need to know was what was the deal with Yaxley? Did Stoney know?" Moody demanded. His tone wasn't one of anger. He was a man that had been racked with questions since first observing the two after Elphinstone's death.
"Was it a racket? Were you fucking him?" Moody pressed.
Moody was hurt. Eleven years ago he'd lost a great friend and colleague. And his late wife's behavior had been anything but normal. It had shaken his faith in Minerva, as well. He needed to know. War was coming again. If she was in some kind of relationship with Yaxley then he needed to ensure there was no conflict of interest.
Minerva understood his reasons.
"We had an arrangement that is now ended," Minerva said cryptically.
"That doesn't answer my question," Moody said hoping she would elaborate.
"We have both done questionable things to protect others. Sometimes we hurt the ones we love in order to keep them safe," she explained as she looked out toward moon.
"So you made a deal with a devil," Moody said finishing her train of thought.
"We never exchanged information," Minerva added before Moody could ask.
Moody accepted her response, vague as it was, and bid her goodnight.
After he left, Minerva looked out and took in the view of the loch. It had been one of Elphinstone's favorite places. Unsure of what force compelled her, she walked up the path to the home she had abandoned eleven years earlier. Carefully, she unlocked the backdoor and entered. Although unoccupied, Minerva had employed a house elf to maintain the home since she'd moved out.
It was the same as it had been eleven years earlier. With a wave of her wand she lit the fireplace and a few candles. She ran her hand along a long decorative table that held photographs from their marriage. She brushed her fingers across one that had been her favorite.
It had been taken shortly before their marriage. Elphinstone had caught a large trout and had been quite proud of his catch. He was beaming and holding the fish. Seeing him in his big rubber boots and his favorite fishing cap made her smile. He'd always been an outdoorsman.
She noticed a bottle of whiskey she'd failed to take with her when she'd left. It had been old then and was even older now. Pouring herself a glass she spotted their record player. Manually she turned it on and set the needle.
I'll be seeing you
in all the old familiar places
That my heart embraces
all day through
Music filled the home and she stepped out onto the small balcony that was off their kitchen. It overlooked the loch below and had a chair where Elphinstone would like to sit sometimes and smoke his pipe.
I'll be seeing you
in every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light at gay
I'll always think of you that way
She closed her eyes and listened to the old tune that played. The moon was starting to fall, but it was still big and bright and visible. It was times like this that she reminded herself how lucky she'd been to have both Dougal and Elphinstone- as brief as both relationships had been.
I'll find you in the morning sun
and when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you