Chapter One: Revenge is a Dish … (Part Three)
AN: Sorry about the long wait, and the fact that this is shorter than normal. But I've been having a drama-filled, stressful life at the mo.
I'm standing on the bridge; I'm waiting in the dark; I thought that you'd be here by now
There's nothing but the rain; no footsteps on the ground; I'm listening, but there's no sound
Isn't anyone trying to find me? Won't somebody come take me home?
- Avril Lavigne
It was cold and raining out, but I didn't care. I waited for him to come, but he didn't. I tried to stop myself crying.
For several minutes I just stood on the bridge, waiting. I told myself if Albus arrived in the next few minutes I wouldn't do it.
He didn't come.
I stepped up onto the sill, balancing warily. The rain was making it slippery. It was dripping down my back, making me shiver. It didn't matter, I told myself. Just one little jump. Then I wouldn't have to worry.
And I'd be with my mother again.
If she even wanted me. Maybe Malachi was right. I didn't deserve the comfort of death, did I?
Torn, I edged nearer.
Could I do this? Could I really kill myself? Did I deserve it? I couldn't decide. A little voice in the back of my head, my mother's voice, was telling me to jump, to be with her. Another voice, that of Malachi, was sneering, saying he was ashamed of me and I didn't deserve the easy way out. A third voice, this one speaking in a very different tone, was speaking to me softly, yet it was drowning out the other two: "Don't jump, Minerva. You have done nothing wrong. Come back."
I let out a small sob. I didn't know what to do.
I heard hurried footsteps. A voice a few feet away spoke. "Minerva."
He'd come for me.
I didn't start, but let out another sob.
"Minerva, don't. Please. Will you let me come to you?"
I nodded shakily and turned my head slightly to watch him approach. He did so slowly, so as not to startle me.
"You don't want to do this," Albus said finally, now at my side.
"I have to," I replied, my throat constricted, rain running down my back. I shifted slightly out of nerves.
"No, you don't. Come down and we'll talk. Please? Here, take my hand."
He held it out. I debated a second too long – my foot slipped and I felt myself falling. I crashed against the wall: Albus had grabbed hold of my arms. I took a grip on his and he began to pull me up, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"Easy, now. Don't look down, Minerva. Come on -"
His grip on me slipped. Now I was only being supported by my own hold.
"Don't let go," he ordered firmly. I hesitated before tightening my grip and pulling myself up. Albus took hold of me under the arms and heaved me up and over the sill. I grabbed him round the neck and hung on for dear life.
My knees got incredibly scraped and Albus got very wet as he staggered backwards, and we both fell to the ground, me on top of him. If anyone had come along then, it would have appeared rather … off, but fortunately no-one did.
"Did I hurt you, Professor?" I asked anxiously, scrambling off him.
"You have very sharp knees," he said by way of a reply, pulling himself and me to our feet. "Goodness, Minerva, you must be freezing! Here -" He conjured a thick towel and tucked it round my shoulders. I didn't notice till then that my teeth were chattering. "How long have you been out here?"
"I don't know. I must look a sight, don't I?"
"Minerva," he said, rather exasperatedly but not crossly, "half a minute ago you were balanced precariously on a bridge, threatening to jump off. And half an hour ago you were found in your father's attic with more injuries than I have seen in a long time. I think we have more to worry about than your appearance."
I sighed and leaned against him, savouring the warmth. He sighed too and put his arms round me. "Come on, Minerva. Let's go back to the Hospital Wing. I think we need to talk."
I froze and shook my head. "I don't want to talk."
He brushed a stray strand of wet hair out of my face. "I'm not surprised, but I'm afraid you need to. Your father's been arrested but we can't do anything else until we know what happened."
I let out a small sob. "I can't."
"Let's just get you indoors first." I moaned softly but he stood up, put his arm round my still-aching shoulders and gently guided me. I hiccupped softly but said nothing all the way to the Hospital Wing.
Professor Dippet and the matron, Madam Kimble, were waiting. The latter seemed to be on the verge of tearing her hair out, and rushed forward in relief when she saw us. For a moment I thought she was going to hug me or something, but I never found out, as Professor Dumbledore held out his hand and stopped her.
"Minerva, are you all right?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes. No. I don't know," I replied miserably.
"I think," Albus spoke up, "that – no offence to your Healing skills, Armando – Madam Kimble should look Minerva over, and then we need to talk." He looked down at me. I suddenly felt very small. "I also think that Minerva here could do with a little hot chocolate."
I smiled slightly. Hot chocolate seems to be his answer for everything. Or sherbet lemons.
The two Professors conferred quietly while Madam Kimble looked me over. She seemed impressed with Dippet's Healing skills. I wasn't paying much attention; I watched Albus. He had a small frown on his face as he talked to the headmaster. I wasn't entirely sure whether or not I was glad he appeared to have talked Dippet into believing that there was something wrong at home – Don't get me wrong, I was relieved to be away from there, but I was dreading the coming confrontation.
Finally the matron beckoned them over and went to get a potion to soothe my aches. Albus told her to mix it with the hot chocolate, and asked her politely for a mug as well. "With a shot of Firewhisky in mine. I have a feeling I will need it."
The other two looked disapproving but I chuckled. My amusement, however, was short-lived.
"Miss Chester – Minerva – can you tell us what happened?"
I shook my head.
"Did your father hurt you?"
"Armando," Albus hissed.
"No."
Don't ask me why I was defending him. I'm not entirely sure why I did. Maybe I just didn't want to admit everything. Maybe it was simply because I didn't feel comfortable with everyone around me. If it had just been me and Albus, it might have been different. I don't know.
"Come Minerva, we know he did something. Mr Chester as good as admitted it."
"Armando, this isn't helping."
Tears were pricking at my eyes, and after sniffing for a moment I leaned over onto Albus' shoulder. He froze for a moment, surprised, but then his arms crept round me and held me. I felt so safe in his arms. Like nothing could ever hurt me. That made me start crying properly.
Professor Dippet pressed a handkerchief into my hands. I accepted it gratefully and blew my nose on it.
"Better?" Albus asked.
"A little," I murmured. "Sorry."
"Nothing to apologise for, Minerva."
"Yes, there is," I said, and then started crying again. I scolded myself for acting like such a big baby – and in front of Professor Dumbledore – but I couldn't help it. "M-my father d-d-didn't d-do an-nything I d-didn't des-serv-ve."
"What??"
Both of them stared at me in horror. Albus found his voice first.
"No, you didn't. No-one deserves that treatment, especially not from their own family, and especially not you, Minerva."
I couldn't help but feel slightly pleased at the last part, but it was clouded by shame.
"Yes, I do. You d-d-don't-t kn-know what I-I d-did."
I was almost hysterical by the time I finished that sentence. I had never, ever told anyone what happened to my mother. No-one. Not even Poppy.
"Hot choco … late?" Madam Kimble entered the room, trailing off when she saw the state I was in. "Oh, dear." She put the mugs down on the nearest surface and put her arms round me in addition to Albus'. I felt like I was being smothered with her as well.
"Minerva," Albus said firmly, "I don't know what you did but whatever it was can't have been that bad. Not enough to deserve the way your father's treated you."
"It was, it was," I sobbed.
"She's hysterical," Madam Kimble said pointlessly. It was obvious. "Minerva, I think you need to sleep now, you're exhausted; we can talk about this in the morning." She glared at the other two as if daring them to say otherwise.
"She's right," Dippet said. "We'll talk in the morning. Albus?"
"Minerva," Albus murmured, "get some sleep, all right? You need it."
"Please, Professor; can you stay with me?" I whispered hoarsely.
Albus looked over at Madam Kimble and she shrugged.
"Okay, I'll stay." He smoothed my hair out of my face and wiped tears off my cheeks. I was almost calm by then. Madam Kimble left and came back in with a Dreamless Sleep Potion.
Dippet left with the promise of being back in the morning. Madam Kimble made a bed up for Albus next to mine, but he didn't get into it. I remember he held me until I went to sleep.
Maybe it was that that stopped the usual nightmares from coming. Ever since I was small Malachi had always invaded my sleep. By morning, I felt a bit better, and a voice in my head seemed to be telling me enthusiastically that if I spilled the beans, I need never see him again.
It wasn't easily but eventually I agreed to tell Albus, and only Albus, the truth. Everything, right from when I had the cancer. He didn't speak, not to hurry me or interrupt, and when I finally finished he excused himself for a moment. He closed the door, but I heard him curse several of the portraits into dust. When he came back in a few seconds later he looked calmer.
I felt exhausted after spilling practically my life story – I think the only thing I hadn't mentioned was my crush on him. Part of me felt utter relief that I had got it all out. Now someone, finally, knew, I felt liberated, giddily happy.
My father was put on trial.
I can still picture him in the courtroom, shaking and sobbing as he pleaded his case. I do not know whether he was truly sorry, or he was merely terrified of going to Azkaban. But it does not matter anymore to me. He was given to the Dementors, and I rejoiced. A year later I heard that he had died in prison. I changed my name from Chester to McGonagall – my mother's maiden name.
Of course, with my father gone, I needed a new guardian, and Albus, bless him, took it upon himself to take up custody of me. I had rather confused feelings about this, as I was a teenage girl, and I hadn't grown out of the lingering crush I'd had since I'd first met him. However, I was desperate for someone who cared to take me in, and he was the only willing candidate, so I accepted. He went as far as to suggest adoption, but I turned it down in a rush. I made the excuse that I only had two years till I was of age, but really I just thought it would make our relationship too awkward.
To my great surprise, living with Albus Dumbledore was not as half as uncomfortable as I originally thought it would be. We slipped quickly into a comfortable relationship, and within mere days it was as if we'd always been this close. Within a week I was teasing him left right and centre, and he returned the favour
Although my feelings for him had not faded in the slightest – grown stronger, if anything – I found it easy to put them to one side and be friends with him. Our relationship was not that of lovers, but not quite parental either. It hovered somewhere between the two, neither one nor the other, waiting for the right time. Even Albus himself described it as more of a friendship.
We hugged sometimes, and I had become used to not feeling awkward about kissing him – on the cheek, that is! He often kissed me, mostly goodnight, but it was an innocent thing on the cheek or the forehead. He refused to get hugely parental on me – for which I was insanely thankful – but we stuck to the ground rules he'd laid down and it worked.
Between working and worrying, I hadn't had a lot of time for hobbies in my life. Albus had a piano and once he caught me tinkling out a tune on it, and offered to teach me. Music was something I came to love as much as, if not more than, my schoolwork, and it was a lot less stressful. I started working on my own tunes and eventually I came to write two very personal songs.
I had had a rotten Christmas that year. But when the Easter holidays grew nearer, Albus suggested we had our own Christmas seeing as I had missed it earlier. I said yes before even thinking about it.
We could celebrate it on our own, or we could invite people to celebrate it with us. After a while I asked for Poppy. With my agreement Albus invited his brother, Aberforth. It was just the four of us for 'Christmas', but I enjoyed it. Aberforth took a shine to Poppy, and vice versa.
Later sad memories of my mother and I celebrating Christmas when I was younger came back, but I refused to cry. I had cried about her death years ago, and now Malachi – I refused to call him 'my father' anymore – was in Azkaban, I was free to start a whole new life.
Shortly after this episode, I met Tom Riddle.
TBC …
A/N: The bridge is actually an addition to Hogwarts I invented – imagine the one in the third and fourth films, only without a roof. When I edit the story I'll make it clearer. I would have done the Astronomy Tower, but I wanted it to fit with the song. This chapter was shorter because in the end I cut the chapter in two. The next part will hopefully be out soon. The songs are posted in a separate fic – the lyrics aren't mine, I borrowed other people's.
Review Responses
ChipmonkOnSpeed: You could do that – sorry for not giving him the just rewards he deserves, but if you want you can imagine he went crazy in Azkaban and died a very horrible death. Honestly, I just needed him to go to prison so Minerva can get on with the rest of her life – and we can move onto the next stage of the story with her. I do like your idea. Maybe you can write a one-shot where he gets tortured in Azkaban to satisfy yourself and everyone else who wanted to see him punished.
Also thanks to silver angel, yellow notepaper, trulyamused, minniequill, PiER and Kiss-This2010 for reviewing