Summary: On Dumbledore's orders, Minerva McGonagall and her Order colleague embark upon a mission of upmost importance.
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters are the property of JK Rowling. This work of fiction is intended for personal enjoyment only, no profit is being made.
Victory and Its Reward
Obliviating Lois was easy, and Minerva felt only a fleeting twinge of remorse at the thought of the poor girl returning to her book, only to find herself completely unacquainted with the tumultuous relationship between Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy. She'll figure it out, Minerva thought rather snidely, and I highly doubt this is her debutante read-through, anyhow.
Thoroughly resenting the extra four seconds required to put on her shoes, Minerva accepted Kingsley's proffered hand, and, following his lead, promptly ran for it.
It was a full two minutes' worth of sprinting before she realized the corridor they utilized for their hasty retreat was not, in fact, the same corridor they had arrived from. From somewhere alarmingly close came a series of angry shouts, and by the time Minerva heard the accompanying racing footsteps, Kingsley had already shot off through a door chosen at random, dragging her by the hand along with in his wake.
"How did she get help so quickly?" She huffed, yanking up the hem of her dress enough to free her knees, sod modesty. As they barrelled down another thankfully empty corridor, Kingsley threw a quick glance over his shoulder and muttered a word she was certain she did not understand.
"I didn't quite catch that, Kingsley."
With a sharp yank to her arm, he pulled her through another open door, as the hammering footsteps drew nearer.
"I said, 'telephone!'" He hissed, scanning the new room into which they had stumbled.
"Thank you, that clears it right up," she muttered with dark sarcasm, and took the opportunity to look around for herself.
The room was just as darkened as all the others thus far, and sparsely occupied with a few chairs, a small sink and an empty bookcase. Minerva experienced a rather frightening thought, as Kingsley continued to scan around, eyes narrowed and looking from wall to wall.
"Kingsley... what if the Muggles don't actually run straight past this door? There's no good us hiding if they just come blasting in-"
But he had no answer for her, it seemed, and from the corridor beyond their room came a distinct shout.
"They're in the old tea room! Come on!"
This, at last, seemed to get Kingsley's attention. His dark eyes were narrowed as he turned to her, and Minerva had the unnerving impression that he had a plan.
"What are we going to do, Kingsley!" She hissed, moving quickly across the room to take hold of his arm. He looked swiftly back to the wall on his left, to the roof, to the door, and finally back to Minerva's face.
"There's no other option, Min," he began, and she promptly ignored the silly little flutter in her stomach at the impromptu nickname, "- this is a last resort, don't you think?" He extended a hand, and glanced sharply at her small bag.
"Finally, some sense..." she muttered, as the thudding footsteps of the Muggles began to resemble the sound of a herd of galloping Thestrals. She handed over his wand, wielded her own, and turned back to the dismally thin door.
"They're getting quite close, Kingsley!' She said with rising alarm, as he stepped closer to the wall behind the bookcase. "This plan of yours...?"
He glared with fiercely narrowed eyes at the wall before him. "If I'm right... this room is on the furthest side of the back of this building. So, behind this wall..."
"Is freedom?" She suggested desperately, as the shouts from the corridor became alarmingly loud and frightfully clear.
"Exactly." He whispered, eyes fixed in concentration, and another darkly treacherous thought occurred to her.
"And... if you're wrong?"
He turned to look at her in the darkened space, and his smile was one of something close to fond amusement.
"Then... we burst through here into a room full of unsuspecting Muggles-"
"And expose the entirety of the wizarding world to the security and defence organisations of the Muggle government, and most likely get ourselves arrested and likely murdered in the process?"
He grinned.
"Or die in the blast."
She closed her eyes.
"Excellent plan."
"In 'ere! They're in 'ere, come on, lads, we got 'em now!" The roaring voice sounded from just outside their room, and Minerva crossed her fingers behind her back.
"Brace yourself, Min!" Kingsley cried, before aiming his wand squarely at the horribly solid-looking wall.
The resulting explosion was so loud, and the intensity of the sunlight which poured through the decimated wall was so bright that Minerva was certain, for an unnerving moment, that she had gone thoroughly both deaf and blind. Beside her, as her eyes quickly adjusted, Kingsley was grinning broadly and stowing his wand into a back pocket in his slacks.
"I was right, Minerva!"
Deciding to save her disappointment at the loss of her nickname for consideration at another, more appropriate time, Minerva tucked her own wand back into her bag and surveyed their surroundings.
Kingsley had blasted an enormous huge hole right through the solid stone wall of the building, leaving them standing, in bright, beautifully welcome sunshine, in a half-empty car-park. The back of Thames House loomed behind them, the hole in stone and cinder-block gaping like a missing tooth from a smile. When she finally turned back to Kingsley, his expression was one of pure, exhilarated glee, and Minerva found herself helplessly imitating him.
"I can't believe we got out! We did it, I can't believe it!" She said, looking quickly down at the leather binder still clutched tight in Kingsley's hand. He gave it a victorious shake, grinning down at her as if she were the most riotously amusing thing he had ever seen, and in a hot, flooding rush Minerva involuntarily recalled their moment on the floor of the Archives room, and the blazing, heated way in which he had held her gaze.
She couldn't have honestly said she was surprised, really, when he swooped, encircled her in his arms and kissed her lips, in one instantaneous movement. Equally, she couldn't have been capable of denying just how very glorious it felt, and how horribly disappointed she found herself to be when the kiss ended, and he released her. Only the sound of a furious shout, from the jagged hole in the side of the building, managed to drag her eyes from his, although the frightening sound did nothing to wipe the blooming smile from her face.
"Time to be gone, I think," he murmured, impossibly dark eyes fixed upon her, and she felt, with an engulfing, blissful wave of warmth, his fingers entwine around her own. From the nearby building, a murderously angry-looking Muggle clambered from the rubble, shaking his fist in their general direction. Minerva couldn't suppress her grin, and had only one last concerning thought, as she clutched Kingsley's hand in hers and yielded to his guiding Disappparition.
"Where did we leave our jackets?"
