Author's Note: Hello all! I am back and so happy to be writing once again! The past few months have been rather trying, but things are beginning to look up once again. This chapter is rather different than the others so far in this story, and admittedly far different than I had expected it to be myself. I do hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, obviously
"Checkmate " Minerva said triumphantly as the king dropped his sword. She had won her first chess game in ages against Albus and she was feeling rather excited. The two of them had been playing for the past several hours and of the many games they had played this was the first she had won. While Albus was quite a decent chess player Minerva usually bested him. Therefore such a long losing streak on her part was quite out of the ordinary.
"Bravo on a game well played my dear." Albus said kindly from across the table. "I knew the tables would not be turned in my favor for too long. Although I must confess that it was rather nice to be on the other end of things for a change."
"I am sure that it was. Losers do not often get the opportunity to gloat. An opportunity which you took full advantage of when you began winning, I might add. Now I can take that honor" Minerva said with much more enthusiasm than either of them had expected. "Would you be up for another match?"
"Goodness it's rather late for another game. I do not recall a time that I played so many games of chess in one afternoon before." He said with a good natured smile. "Perhaps it is time for you to rest on your laurels my dear. You have earned it."
"Oh! I did not realize that it was so late Albus!" Minerva replied. "I should be going then!"
"Relax my dear, I had something else in mind." Albus said putting his hand over Minerva's. With a wave of his hand the chess set cleaned itself up and was replaced by a tablecloth and table settings. Two long candles appeared along with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
"What is all of this?" Minerva asked stunned. Out of all of the things he could have done she had not expected this.
"These past few weeks have been rather stressful on us all. You have seemed particularly stressed with the extra workload you have taken on. I thought a quiet dinner might do you some good." He replied whilst pouring wine into the two glasses.
"To the best transfiguration professor this school could ever hope to have." Albus said, raising his glass, eyes twinkling madly.
Minerva raised her glass to meet his. She was blushing profusely now. "I do not know what to say." She replied bashfully. "Thank you just doesn't seem sufficient. Is there anything I can do to repay you, for all that you have done for me this year?"
"Smile more." Albus said gently. "Be happy, but most of all live. You have been a shell of yourself as of late. I miss the old Minerva. So full of life, so energetic. I know things have been rough but do allow yourself some happiness. This is all I ask of you."
Minerva nodded her assent. She did not want to explain to Albus exactly why her mood was so low lately. It had been weeks since the trial, yet Severus was still barely speaking to her. Out of respect for him she had kept her distance; when he was ready to talk again he would. Still though, the waiting was maddening to her. With every day that passed she missed him more, loathe as she was to admit it she had become quite dependent upon him and his company. In his short time here he had already become her closest friend and confidante amongst the staff.
Now she found herself increasingly turning to Albus, Filius, and Poppy. Not that there was anything wrong with them. She did enjoy their company very much indeed. It was just different from Severus. She felt that around him she could truly be herself and be comfortable. Perhaps though there was the stirring of something more? She brushed the thought from her mind nearly as soon as it came. What had happened a few weeks back was still quite perplexing to her. That moment, in the hedge maze, it probably should not have happened, it definitely should not have remained on her mind.
While Albus was beginning to understand the friendship she shared with Severus, he was not yet entirely accepting of it. To the contrary she felt that he was still somewhat wary of all the time she had spent with him. The irksome part of this behavior was that he seemed to trust Severus implicitly; he just did not trust him with her.
"I will do my best Albus. It is not difficult to find a reason to smile in such good company as yours." she replied allowing herself to break away from her thoughts.
"You do pay me the nicest of compliments my dear." Albus replied, smiling back at her. "Now please enjoy yourself this evening. Eat drink and be merry my dear.
As the evening wore on Minerva found that she was letting loose more than she had in awhile. For the first time in weeks she was allowing herself to truly breathe again. Perhaps it was the good company she was in, or perhaps it was the free flowing wine, whatever the case she felt her inhibitions beginning to fall away, and suddenly she was taking Albus quite literally at his word.
By the time they had finished with the food she was becoming rather tipsy. Somehow, without her realizing it they had polished off two bottles of wine and Albus was taking out a a bottle of Ogden's Old.
"Would you care for a glass Minerva?" he asked her as they sat in front of the fire.
As a true Scotswoman she could not resist. "Of course I would Albus. What do ye take me for?"
One glass eventually turned into two and so forth. Generally speaking, Minerva was not one to even entertain the idea of drunkenness. While she did drink on occasion she never went past one or two glasses of the stuff. She was one who liked to remain in full possession of her faculties at all times. Yet tonight, something seemed different to her. Perhaps it was all of the stress that had been building up since the war began.
A small voice in the back of her head told her that this was a bad idea and that she would regret it later on, but that voice was quickly overruled. Silenced by another voice that told her that she needed to continue what she was doing. Right now there was no place for the "rational" Minerva.
It was past 2:00 in the morning when she finally left the Headmaster's office. The effects of the alcohol were still quite potent. As she began to descend the staircase from his office she found that she was rather dizzy and it seemed to her that it would be wise to stop and remove her shoes. Heels were not rational footwear. Especially not when descending steep spiral staircases in the dead of night.
It took her longer to unfasten the buckles on her shoes than she had previously anticipated. It seemed that the holes were far too small on these things anyhow. She would have to stage a complaint to someone about this later on. Perhaps a well worded letter to Transfiguration Today. Yes, that would do it. Then someone would pay.
Retrieving her shoes from the step next to her she stood up and began to descend the stairs once again. The confounded thing had a habit of moving too much. She must report this to someone, who though? Oh yes, the caretaker, Flitch, no Filch, that was his name. Perhaps though it would be better to tell Mrs. Norris instead, she was really the boss around here. The one who took care of things. Everyone knew that.
When she had finally made it to the bottom of the stairs she took a moment to steady herself. Those stairs had really done a number on her. Although perhaps it was not just the stairs but the whole castle that was moving. Maybe there was something that she could do about it? Shaking her wand out of her sleeve in a manner that could hardly be considered graceful, she attempted to cast some sort of spell that would make the entire castle stop moving.
The castle had no right to be acting as it was. Someone had done something terribly wrong to it. She said a few incantations, and once she was satisfied with her work she attempted to return her wand to its place in her sleeve. For some reason this was harder than usual. Her wand had to go somewhere, but where to put it? Putting her hand to her temple she tried to think of what to do with it. Then it came to her. Why hadn't she thought of this before?
Her wand could go in her hair! Many muggle women wore chopsticks in their hair. A wand could not be that much different! With some difficulty she managed to stick her wand through her bun. There! Now she would be able to walk back to her rooms and she would know how to quickly get to her wand! Perhaps she would wear it in her hair all the time now.
Minerva proceeded to walk down the halls to her rooms. At least she thought her rooms were this way, however things were looking a bit different from normal. Those blasted staircases did have quite the tendency to move about on her. They must have been doing so again! Mrs. Norris would simply have to take care of this. The sooner the better. The further she walked the cooler the temperature around her became. There must have been an issue with the heating in the Castle. Mrs. Norris would have to see to that as well. She would be quite busy in the coming weeks.
Finally after what seemed like ages she happened upon another figure. Although on second though it might have been a ghost. Those black robes were rather billowy. This was a ghost she had not seen before, and it (he, she?) appeared to be rather solid. Being that it was a new ghost she found that it would only be appropriate that she introduce herself to it. After all, she was a Hogwarts Professor and as such she would have many dealings with said specter.
"Hello." she said in a voice as dignified as she could muster. "Professor Ghost, I am honored to make your acquaintance today. Allow me to introduce myself your ghostliness." With that she made a sweeping bow, losing her hat in the process.
The dark figure turned to her looking somewhat confused at what she had said. "Minerva? Is that you?" he asked sounding rather concerned.
"Ah! So you already know who I am, that being the case, I must also know who you are. Tell me oh happy spirit. What must I call thee?"
"Minerva? Are you quite alright?" the figure asked coming towards her. "It's Severus. Are you unwell?"
"Severus! What a name that is. I do know a Severus. Quite a lovely chap, one of kind he is. A true gem. We play chess together. Tell me, are you related to him?"
"Minerva? Is this a joke? It's me, Severus, I play chess with you." His voice was beginning to show a hint of concern. Poor spirit, they always were a melancholy sort.
"Severus? It's you?" Minerva asked suddenly stunned.
"Yes Minerva, it is really me." he replied somewhat relieved.
"You're a ghost." Minerva said in shock. "A spirit. Who did this to you? What happened? I will find whomever it was. Then they will pay"
"I'm not a ghost Minerva, I can assure you that I am perfectly well. I am just as alive as you are." Severus replied perplexed.
"You were so young too." Minerva said sniffling. "So full of life, so much promise ahead of you. Now it is all gone. I miss you so much. I never got to tell you" She threw her arms around Severus and began to cry.
Severus returned her hug and began patting her back to comfort her. It was not enough though. He was gone and she would only ever see him as a ghost again. How could she tell him?
"Minerva? Would you like a handkerchief?" Severus asked taking one from his pocket to give to her.
"That would be lovely." she replied, taking the handkerchief from him and wiping at her eyes. "You always were the perfect gentleman. So young, so very, very sad. You survived the war, and now this tragedy. Tell me, what was it that did you in? Where did you come from?"
"I was just returning from my walk about the grounds. I needed some fresh air." Severus said. The poor spirit was already exhibiting those subtle signs of confusion.
"My dear ghost, professor ghost, what was it that did you in on this walk?"
"Did me in? Minerva, I am not dead. I can assure you that I am just as alive as you are."
"Denial is so natural in ghosts. It was the Squid, wasn't it? Archibald was always an interesting one. I am sure that he did not mean it. He probably thought you were a large bat. Your black robes and all can be confusing. Especially when you walk about in such a manner, all the swooshing and the whooshing."
"Archibald? The Squid has a name?" Severus asked, momentarily taken aback.
"Of course he has a name." Minerva said indignantly. "Do you think he is some sort of uncivilized Squid? I ask you good man, what sort of a question is that?"
"Fair point Minerva, what on earth was I even thinking?" Severus said. "At any rate the squid, Archibald, if you prefer, did not do me in. As you can no doubt see…"
Minerva cut him off again. "Then it was no doubt George. Here I was thinking he was civilized, but there you go. Resorting to primal instincts. No gold star for him." she said matter of factly.
"I know that I am going to regret asking this, but who on earth is George?"
"Who doesn't know George?" Minerva asked surprised. "He is a vampire that lives in the forbidden forest. I have never known him to kill anyone to drink blood, let alone a professor. We are going to have to have a serious talk. No more fresh tomato juice for him. This has set him back five hundred years. Tis a pity his record has been broken."
"A vampire named George?" Severus asked. "Of all the things…."
"Yes, well it is an unfortunate situation. Nobody takes a vampire named George seriously. I suppose now they will have to take him seriously though. Now that this has happened everyone in the land will quake in fear whenever they hear the name George the Vampire. You know, you are looking rather pale. At first I put it down to the ghostliness, now however I can see that it has to do with the lack of blood." Minerva said. All of this grief was beginning to make her sleepy.
"Of course, of course." Severus replied. "I think someone has been drinking tonight, and that someone may have had too much to drink."
"Who?" Minerva asked conspiratorially. Drunkenness was something she could not abide by. "Was it a student? One of the professors?"
"Minerva. Where did you come from tonight? Who were you drinking with?"
"The Headmaster's office. Albus and I were playing chess. Is he the one who is drunk?" Minerva asked wide eyed. "Shame on him, what on earth was he thinking?"
"What on earth indeed." Severus said. "I think it is time that we get you to bed."
Bed did sound like rather a good idea. Her eyelids were beginning to fall and her limbs were feeling heavy. Suddenly she felt herself drifting away….
Minerva awoke the next morning with a splitting headache. She could not remember the last time she had felt quite this way. It felt as though someone were pounding at her skull with an axe. Her only though was that this is how Zeus must have felt in the myths before Athena emerged from his head. Somehow she doubted that there was a fully grown goddess lodged in her head. There must be some logical explanation for all of this.
Opening her eyes she began to take in her surroundings. It took a few moments for things to come into focus. She was in a bed, but with a start she realized it was not her own. She did not own blue flannel sheets or a gray comforter for that matter. The pajamas she was wearing certainly did not belong to her. They were much too large.
Drawing back the curtains from the four poster she came face to face with a room that was also unfamiliar. It was comfortable, yet simplistic in nature. On a chair across from the bed her clothes from the previous night were neatly folded, her hat on top. Next to the bed there was a night table, on which rested her wand and glasses. There were also two vials filled with a purple colored liquid.
Sitting up to investigate she found that the vials were sitting on top of a letter written in slanting script. Picking it up she began to read it over. This took more time than anticipated due to her pounding headache. Just making the words stay on the page was difficult. It was a short enough letter. The contents explained where she was, why she was there, and the directions for use of the potions on the bedside table.
She was grateful for the explanation, and for the help, truly she was, but at this very moment she could die of embarrassment. While he had explained her obvious drunkenness in very delicate terms the very fact that he had even witnessed her in such a state, let alone had to take care of her was painful. What he must think of her now, what impression she must have given him. How on earth would she ever be able to face him again?