Another day in this carnival of souls
Another night settles in as quickly as it goes
The memories are shadows; ink on the page
And I can't seem to find my way home
~Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch
Chapter 40 - Recovery
November 29th-30th, 1942:
"Professor Dumbledore?"
Rolanda Hooch was the first to spot him enter the Common Room, and at her words, everyone else in the Gryffindor Common room looked up. The remaining students that were awake were mostly fifth, sixth and seventh years, which Albus assumed was because they had ushered the younger students to bed. He glanced around the room until he located Mikail Lutrov standing near the window, looking just as equally troubled as the rest of his Housemates.
"Professor, what has happened?" Miss Hooch urgently questioned, distracting Albus from studying Mikail further.
"Is McGonagall all right?" Septimus Weasley spoke up. "She- She wasn't killed, was she?"
"Please calm yourselves, everyone," Professor Dumbledore called, his voice overriding the multiple whispers that spurred. "You may all put your worries aside, no one has been killed. There are a few injuries, but nothing to worry about. The culprits who have been using the Killing Curse have also been found."
"But what of Minerva and Poppy, Professor? You said they were injured? Are they in the hospital wing?"
"Yes they are, and they will likely be spending a few nights there. Miss Pomfrey has a head injury and Miss McGonagall fractured her ankles. You may see them in the morning, Miss Hooch, now all of you, to bed - except you, Lutrov, I would like a word with you in the Reading Room."
Curiously, everyone except Mikail seemed surprised at his request, although Albus reasoned that the boy likely anticipated this since he had been previously interrogated by the Ministry regarding the situation. While he had revealed nothing then , something told Albus that the boy was getting tired. He wasn't certain about what, but he hoped to find out tonight.
"Sit down, lad, we have much to discuss." Albus gestured to the chairs as he closed the door behind them. He took the chair opposite of the boy and turned to face him.
"If you are going to ask vhere I vas this evening, Sir, I sent a message to the Nightingale guarding the castle tonight."
Albus blinked. He hadn't expected an outright confession, but this revelation was interesting, to say the least. "How do you know, Broc?"
"I did not know his name, just that he is around Minerva a lot. He confronted me the day before I transferred, to give me a varning on Professor Merrythought's behalf."
The professor stroked his cropped beard. "What did your message last night detail?"
"It vas a drawing of a secret passage I discovered near the North Dungeons. I found that it leads into the South Dungeons, vas that vhere the culprits vere found?"
He eyed the young wizard. "You are correct, that is indeed where they were they were caught."
"I knew it," Mikail whispered, sighing as Albus continued his inquisitive stare. "I know it must seem suspicious but please, Professor, hear me out. I saw someone snooping there last night and decided to investigate myself. Vhen I found out vhere it lead to, I had a good idea vhat it vas being used for. Beyond sending the letter, I had absolutely no involvement in vhat occurred tonight."
"Did you know what was going to happen?"
"Sir, I have no idea vhat has happen, other than vhat you have explained since arriving in the common room. Vhen I stepped out of the Gryffindor Tower, it vas only for a minute to let my sparrow fly."
Albus leant back in his seat for a moment, searching his student's face for any hint of deception, but there was none. "This evening, Eileen Prince and Miss Louise's cat were-"
"Augusta's cat vas seen?"
Professor Dumbledore nodded, taking note of the concern that flashed across Mikail's face. "As I was saying, Eileen Prince and the cat were Imperiused. They lead Miss Pomfrey and Miss McGonagall to a trapdoor in the flooring that lead to the secret room that you discovered. The person that did so is also likely responsible for changing the Prefect Patrol without authorization. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"I am your prime candidate then," Mikail spoke calmly, holding Albus's gaze.
"I have one other student in mind, rest assured. You are not being targeted due to your former allegiance to Durmstrang, or because of your master. This is merely a precaution, owing to your prior Legilimency knowledge, which, as I'm sure you are well aware of, ties into using the Imperius Curse quite effectively."
"I appreciate your unbiased approach, Professor. I feel not many people vould do the same in these dark times." Mikail drummed his fingers on the table in front of him and paused several seconds before speaking again, "I received a tip that something vas going to happen 'soon', but I vas not informed vhen, or how, and I do not know who it is that gave me this information. I do, however, suspect the person you are looking for is Tom Riddle, Sir. I do not have proof, and I doubt you vill find any either. After vhat he did to Minerva, he has had developed the tendency to cover his tracks very vell."
"Yes, he does."
Mikial lowered his head. "If you do not believe me, Sir, then judge me as you see fit, but I have a clear conscience. I did not do anything to harm anyone."
Albus couldn't help but feel sorry for the lad. He had come from a school that was known for it's tyranny; where the teachers were just as cold as the castle itself, the Dark Arts were practiced freely, and the Untergang constantly hovered in their thoughts. If it hadn't been for the threat he received from his contacts before start of term, Albus would have merely believed that Mikail had come to Hogwarts seeking sanctuary.
"Chin up, Mikail, I believe you," he said jovially, hoping Mr Lutrov would acknowledge the change of pace. "However, we do need to discuss a few things about your master from Durmstrang."
Mikail's tawny eyes momentarily flickered to the side. "Vhat about him?"
"Why did Karkaroff really send you here? I need you to be as honest as you possibly can with me, Mikail. All your secrets are safe with me, none will reach Professor Merrythought, or anyone else's ears, unless you tell them yourself and, if it helps assure you, I am not above performing a Fidelius charm. I very much need to know what is going on between Karkaroff and you. There is the possibility that things will become very serious, and if that happens, then I want to be able to protect you and prevent you from getting caught in the crossfire- so to speak."
Mikail took several moments to speak, shifting his gaze between Albus and the floor with confliction written across his face. When he finally spoke, it was with a seriousness that Albus could only admire.
"If I do tell you, Professor, then I vill require you to perform the Fidelius Charm- not because I don't trust your vord, but because I simply cannot risk anyone else to know."
"Then we have a deal," Albus affirmed, stretching his hand out.
Mikail only hesitated for a second to meet Albus's eyes, before before grasping it tightly and taking out his wand to cast the spell.
Horace Slughorn paced nervously around his office. Today was an utter disaster for his House, and for himself. He couldn't believe that he hadn't realised what his students w0ere doing, and so close to his office as well. They had truly proved their Slytherin cunning and the talent they obviously had would serve them well in the war, but it wouldn't help them now. Of course, he did not approve of what they had done, he'd see them off to Azkaban, especially after they attempted to kill Minerva.
When Izzy finds out about this... Horace shook his head and suppressed a shudder. Let's not be hasty, now. Helena won't tell her the whole story. She surely won't be allowed to with the ongoing Ministry investigation, and I doubt she'd want to upset Robert and Cayden, but Isobel is nothing if not persistent, and she always seems to know about everything that happens here. Damn those portraits.
While he didn't know for certain, Horace had long suspected that Rowena Ravenclaw had a connecting portrait in the Manor. It wouldn't be that absurd a notion either; the Manor had belonged to the Founder and consequently to the many generations that came before Isobel. It would certainly explain a great deal of how she seemed to know more than expected.
And Tradisi for that matter.
"Professor Slughorn, when is Professor Dumbledore going to get here?"
Horace turned around to face his star pupil. "Soon, my lad."
Tom Riddle nodded and folded his hands into his lap. "I'm sorry to be impatient, Sir. I'd just rather be studying in my dorm right now."
"I know, Tom, thank you for being so patient. This is a dire matter and it needs to be resolved. He should be here soon and as long as you have nothing to hide, it shouldn't take too long."
"Very quick, I reckon."
Sometimes, there were days that Horace suspected Tom Riddle knew far more about the goings on in this castle than he did. Sure, sometimes Tom asked strange questions and often became just a little too curious for his own good, but what Slytherin wasn't? Unlike most of the students in his house, Tom took the time to look out for the younger students, tutor them when they needed it and he was quite good at it too. Tom was a natural leader, able to inspire his peers with no more than a few spoken words; traits that would likely carry him far.
Albus Dumbledore made his way to Professor Slughorn's office automatically while sifting through his thoughts about Mikail Lutrov and, somewhat inadvertently, Minerva as well. The information he had been given was troubling to say the least. The knowledge that Erlend Karkaroff had ordered Mikail to find the witch that the rogue Untergang sect was after, would have been alarming in itself, except that he also ordered his apprentice to protect her; the witch whose abilities described Minerva McGonagall in every way.
Ordinarily, Albus tried to ignore most coincidences, preferring to rely on fact and measure, however, this time it was too much to avoid. It worried him greatly that the Untergang was seeking someone who had been prophesied over two thousand year ago supposedly by the sirens. The prophecy was a song that had been sung for many years that for most people it seemed to just be a song. However, Albus was not one of those people. He knew that it was so much more. It was a prayer of strength, a vow of revenge, a promise of discovery, a lament telling of darkness, but also a spell that aided those in a near death state; the very song that the siren at Loch Ness had sung to Fawkes all those years ago.
Possibly the most worrisome part of the prophecy was the terror that the witch would have to face during her time. Darkness on a scale of great torment, peril, that which would seem to never end; Darkness that only she could break. Albus had since pondered the Untergang being this cursed shadow. Their reign of terror was nearing a century now, and at this moment they were also aligned with one of the most powerful Dark Wizards in history. If this was the case, then Albus prayed that it wasn't Minerva, despite working to prepare her to battle Grindelwald.
All the more reason to chat with Fawkes again, and hopefully he'll be reasonable this time... Come to think of it, he's always had an interest in Minerva.
Fawkes never had enjoyed 'talking' about that day, or at least he did a good job about being so cryptic that even Albus became frustrated. He did like talking about Minerva though, which had been further encouragement to Albus whenever he had doubts about picking her as his protegee. She struggled so much against her mother's labyrinth of secrets, yet time and time again she proved capable of doing the impossible. It gave Albus all the hope and confidence that she would accomplish what he refused to do. He still found it absolutely amazing that Minerva even survived long enough for the Grey Lady to come to her aid, though. Fairing so well against that many magicians was not easy, especially given her restrictions on manoeuvrability.
"Master, might Mozart speak with you, Sir?" a little voice squeaked, pulling Albus from his thoughts just before he reached for the office door, "Mozart brings important message from Madam Nurix."
Albus turned around to see his elf's big eyes staring up at him. "Of course, Mozart. What did Helena have to say?"
"Nothing to say, Sir, just wants Mozart to give Master this."
The elf held up a piece of parchment and Albus took it with haste, deciphering Helena's hasty scribbles with ease.
Prince found, second floor girl's lavatory, now in Hospital Wing. Drugged: evidence of Falictum-toxin and Oblivi-toxin. Continues to wail that Gryffindors were the cause, just as before. Cat belonging to Miss Louise found dead nearby. Cause: high concentrate poison, yew - for quick death. I suggest to tell Miss Louise tomorrow morning to let her get a good night's sleep. Whoever did this was very thorough, Albus. Good luck, Helena.
Albus stroked his beard as he stood in the corridor. He had been fairly certain before, but this proved the facts. Unless Mikail had a time-turner they didn't know about - which Albus highly doubted, Mikail Lutrov could not have been behind the Imperiusing. The bathroom was too far from the Gryffindor tower for him to get there and back by the time Albus had spoken to him, and with so much against the boy already, he surely wouldn't dare risk incriminating himself by making Miss Prince believe that Gryffindors had been the ones to harm her.
Tom would benefit from this though. He was stationed near the Library and could have drugged Prince much more easily and without being suspected.
"Anything more Mozart can do, Sir?"
Albus folded the note and hid it away in his inner-robe pocket. "Might you ask Madam Nurix when Professor Merrythought will be returning, please?"
"Of course, Master. Mozart be back in a moment."
With a pop, he left Albus alone as he went over the contents of the letter in his mind. The poisons and toxins were disturbing. Students should not have the knowledge or the means to create poisons and while memory toxins were mentioned in textbooks and in the Library, the ingredients were hard to come by and the potions took several months to create.
Either this was planned months in advance and the person had outside help, or they were stolen and the maker is someone of extensive skill. Horace is known to leave his stores open from time to time and he usually doesn't check his inventory more than once a month… Oh Horace, you idiot.
Engrossed in his thoughts, Albus did not realise Mozart had come back until he started speaking again. "Master, Madam Nurix told me to inform you that Professor Merrythought has already arrived back, Sir."
"That'll be all, Mozart, thank you."
"Yes, Sir."
The elf disappeared and Albus opened the door. Horace was there waiting for him, as was Tom Riddle, who seemed rather annoyed.
"There you are, Albus, glad you arrived," Horace greeted, smiling jovially until he got closer to whisper, "Has there been any news about Eileen Prince?"
"The girl was found in the lavatory on the second floor with one of the missing cats."
"Was it-" he mouthed the last word. Dead?
Albus nodded grimly. "Miss Prince is in the Hospital Wing being treated. Could you please do a thorough inventory of your stock? I suspect someone has stolen some ingredients. By the time you return, I should be done here with Mr Riddle and you may escort him back to his dormitory."
Horace's puzzled expression was rather annoying, but thankfully he didn't argue and hastily left.
"What's this about, Professor?" Tom Riddle questioned. "Professor Slughorn kept saying that something 'awful' had happened, but didn't give me any details."
"Eight Slytherins were caught and detained today on charges of using Unforgivables against other students. There is a possibility that another person was also involved, but we have yet to find the culprit. I inquire information regarding your whereabouts while all this was going on."
"Does that mean the Ministry is leaving? The culprits have been caught?"
"Yes, Tom, it seems that all will return to normal - save for the mysterious monster, that is."
"Well that's good news. To answer your question, Professor Dumbledore, I was near the Library as you assigned. My partner can verify that." He shrugged, his expression seemingly innocent. "Question her if you must, but she will tell you the same and nothing unusual occurred while we were there."
"I'm sure," Albus struggled to keep his voice clear of emotion as he glared down at the Slytherin with disdain. "Might I see your wand for a moment?"
"Of course, Professor, though I assure you, you will find nothing unusual. I have nothing to hide," Riddle hissed in annoyance as he handed over the yew rod.
Ignoring the young wizard, Albus muttered 'Prior Incantato' and to his great disappointment, but not surprise, the last spell displayed was but a simple warming charm.
"Very well, Riddle," he muttered, returning the wand, "thank you for your time."
"I hope you catch the final culprit, Professor. I really do."
Albus caught a gleam in his dark eyes, one that was undoubtedly of triumph. He was now, more certain than ever that Tom was responsible for Imperiusing Eileen Prince tonight. Proving that however, would be impossible as the boy had clearly covered his tracks, and covered them well. He wondered why Tom would go to such drastic measures.
He had been rather keen to know if the Ministry would be leaving, but what would he gain from that? And why have the monster's attacks have seemingly halted since then.
"As do I, Tom," Albus stared the boy down, making his distrust known. "As do I."
Horace returned soon after with a list of the unaccounted ingredients. Just as Albus suspected, yew, poppy heads, and multiple types of mushrooms were missing; all key ingredients to the poison and the drugs used this evening.
"Horace, who helps you stocktake?" Albus whispered.
"Riddle; he's very helpful, Albus. Why?"
Of course he is... the deputy seethed as despite Tom's obvious ties to everything, there wasn't enough evidence to prove that Tom was the thief and final perpetrator.
"Might I suggest you keep a closer watch on your stores Horace, and ask your elf to make sure it's locked at night? I fear someone has been using it to create the toxins that were used on Miss Prince."
Horace covered his mouth. "Oh dear, oh dear. Yes, I will do that right away, Albus."
"Good night, Professor."
"Good night."
The deputy let out a heavy sigh as he trekked back to the Hospital Wing. This time it was without Minerva McGonagall's presence, although his mind certainly lingered on her as he remembered their walk from earlier. She both surprised and humbled him by accepting his apology; her ability to analyse the situation with such maturity astounded him, and her concern for other student's safety over her own was admirable. In fact, the more Albus thought about it, the more he knew that the only flaw he could see about Minerva's actions tonight was that she didn't take the initiative to take care of her own well being. He would be labelled a hypocrite if he criticised her for that and he'd be lying if he said that he was disappointed.
He smiled thinking about her surprise when he lifted her off the ground, the way her wide green eyes dazzled and mouth parted a centimeter. He was quite certain that she hadn't noticed that her hair had almost come loose from it's pins and that it had had curled around her shoulder, framing her face perfectly. Albus couldn't help but be thankful that she would be in the hospital resting for a few days. With both of her ankles fractured, she wasn't going anywhere which meant no time turner, and that was a blessing. Sometimes Albus wondered if he worried too much about her, but he always dismissed those thoughts. Minerva was his protegee and he had every right to worry about her well being.
Albus's hand curved around the gold handle of the Hospital wing door as he swung it open, revealing Helena, Galatea, and Nathan. The trio were discussing the events of the night in the center of the ward where they had Summoned what looked like all the furniture from Helena's informal conference room for their leisure while the two Scots were sipping on a glass of wine that Albus could smell all the way from the entrance. He assumed that they had placed a silencing charm around them, allowing them to talk freely without the fear of waking Helena's patients.
The Nightingale Captain, looking rather worse for wear, was pacing behind a sofa where the matron sat. He knew she had been tired before her leave to headquarters, but now those dark circles under her pale blue eyes were deeper and a much darker hue, telling of the many hours of sleep that Galatea did not receive this weekend. He had no doubt that more than a few of those hours were lost due to her incessant worrying and prayed that his colleague would be able to sleep a little better now the culprits behind the Killing Curses had been detained.
Nathan seemed rather comfortable lounging in a recliner with his legs draped over the arms and his back leaning against the other. As calm and relaxed as he portrayed himself to be, Albus could tell that he was still trying to recover his nerve. There was no doubt in Albus's mind that he had been tormented with thoughts of failing to protect Minerva; he had grown rather fond of her over the past few months of watching her from the shadows.
Helena was, as always, a mix of both of them. Sitting on the couch, she gazed into a peculiar glowing silver sphere in her hands. Her expression seemed to indicated that she was relieved, but even from so far away Albus could see the fear that swirled in her eyes.
"I still don't understand why they were patrolling the dungeons in the first place," Galatea asserted. "I thought Minerva was assigned to the Great Hall; and Poppy was at the Grand Staircase as well, if I remember correctly."
"If I may interrupt," Albus cleared his throat as he drew closer, "I believe I can answer that."
"Hello again, Albus," Nathan greeted. "Care for a drink? Helena here still refuses to touch the stuff."
"That'll do nicely," he replied as Helena rolled her eyes.
"Really, Broc, it's not the end of the world!"
"To not enjoy such a fine tasting drink that the earth has provided should be a crime!" the Scot muttered as he hopped out of his chair and stepped towards the conjured table they surrounded.
"Come off it, old friend," Galatea glared at him while trying to hide her amusement. "You know why she does not drink."
"Fine, fine," Nathan held up his free hand, gesturing his surrender as he filled the empty glass, handing it to Albus with a wink. "'Tis always useless to argue against women, anyway."
Albus chuckled as he sipped the malt. The moment the liquid touched his lips, he understood where Nathan was coming from. The sweet but heavy drink made his tastes buds buzz with euphoria. "What is this?"
"MacGilleMhoire Muscat malt, or more commonly known as the Morrison Muscato," Galatea answered softly, her crystal eyes staring at him. "It is from the vault my mother inherited."
"Ah yes, from the Morrison Clan winery, no doubt. It's delicious."
"I know," Galatea replied flatly. "Now please answer my previous question before I grow impatient for the fourth time this evening. Why were Minerva and Poppy in the dungeons?"
Albus took another sip before speaking. "Someone managed to change the Prefect's order, deliberately moving Minerva's post."
"So you kept the order relatively the same in hopes of catching the culprits," the elder witch inferred, her eyes growing darker as her thoughts churned.
"That is correct. I believed that whoever had done this had most likely wanted Minerva out of the way, thus I stood guard with Mr Lemars at the Great Hall instead; but to be sure, I wanted Miss Pomfrey with Minerva, thinking that they could keep each other safer should something arise. Had I known what awaited them, however I would have taken a different path."
Galatea held her hand up. "I do not think anyone could have predicted this outcome, Albus. Not even myself. I have no doubt that I would have done the same in your position."
Helena whipped her head around, her left hand curling tighter around the glowing orb as she faced her partner. "I can hardly believe you just said that."
The elder witch didn't respond. She quietly walked over to where Minerva lay and stood beside the curtain looking down at the young heroine. Nathan, however, turned to Helena did.
"Really, love? Foal sends her best friends, her brother, even you out to battle the Untergang, and ye're surprised about this? Minerva is a damn good fighter for her age, one of the best I've seen since Faol."
The matron was about to retort when Galatea muttered quietly, "Possibly better than I was, actually."
"Well, I wouldn't say da-" Nathan blinked, then looked up at his leader, and friend. "You really think so?"
Her crystal eyes were still locked on Minerva, but Galatea nodded without hesitation.
"I'm fairly certain that she would've made a fair match for myself, as well, Broc," Albus added, causing the Scotsman to whistle and lean further into his chair.
"If there was any Prefect that I would send on a potentially dangerous patrol, Helena," Galatea's voice strengthened as she continued to elaborate her opinion, "it would be Minerva without a second thought, no matter how much I love her. Just as ye're the best, and frankly the only, healer I can rely on to hold her ground while keeping the members of my team from greeting death." The elder witch stepped back towards the group, letting the curtain fall back into place. "'Confidence, bravery, intellect, maturity; everything a fighter needs', to quote my father. She has all that, not to mention her skill, power, and sheer dumb luck."
Helena's lips thinned as she gave Galatea a look that Albus knew as the 'we'll be talking about this later' glare before she turned back to the group, "Still, we should be thankful that the Grey Lady intervened when she did."
"We're lucky she even deemed it important enough to take notice of with how bloody apathetic she is," Nathan grumbled, then asked, "Faol, you never did tell me how you managed to convince that high-headed ghost to watch over Minerva."
"The Grey Lady has a deeper connection with Minerva than she likes to admit."
"Deeper than being the Ghost of the House which Minerva is descended from?"
"Much, much deeper, but that is beside the point." Galatea finished the last few drops of wine and placed the glass on the table, then sat next to Helena. "I was told you questioned Riddle and Lutrov, Albus. Were they behind this?"
"I suspect that Riddle Imperiused Prince and Louise's former cat, but-"
"And Poppy," the matron added, glancing at the silver glowing sphere. "After hearing about her actions tonight, I fear she must have also been Imperiused to follow Miss Prince as she did, perhaps in order to force Minerva to run after them all, and cause her to practically fall to her death."
His heart rate doubled in concern for his student. "I thought you said it wasn't serious."
"I made it seem like it wasn't. I stated that it was nothing potions and magic couldn't fix, and while I wasn't lying, I was only referring to Poppy's wounds. With Minerva nearby I didn't want to worry her as the truth is," the lines on Helena's face softened with her voice, "had Minerva not grabbed her and prevented her from falling the full twelve feet, Poppy would have surely died."
"Did you tell Minerva this?"
"No, and I don't plan to. It seems that, yet again, Minerva has saved someone she loves from certain death. That's three times now," Helena's beady eyes flashed at her partner, "if not four. Far too many times for her age, and I believe it disturbs her more than she lets anyone know. At any rate, if Poppy doesn't show any responses before dawn, then I fear the worst."
Dread twisted Albus's stomach. He had hoped Poppy would come around while he was out, after all it had been some two hours since she fell. "Surely Fawkes could-" he stopped his suggestion when the matron shook her head.
"Even if he did shed his tears, it wouldn't solve the problem. While her brain is recovering adequately, the trauma she's suffered..." Helena took a breath, fighting to keep her voice steady. "You know phoenix tears only heal physical wounds, not the psyche, Albus. They can't re-sync her soul with her mind and awaken her consciousness. No spell can do that." She seemed to sink into Galatea's embrace as she rotated the orb within her fingers.
Albus drummed his fingertips on the arm of the chair, trying to think of solutions. There is one. Well, not a spell precisely, but it might work in this instance.
"What if I entered Limbo?"
"Limbo? Merlin's beard, Albus, you know there is a reason nobody enters that damned place willingly. They hardly ever come back!" Nathan interjected. "Spend too much time there and you'll leave the physical plane altogether. Besides, you can't guarantee that yeh will be able to get Poppy back."
"I understand the risks Broc, but I am Pomfrey's Head of House, and furthermore, I am responsible for the state she's in."
"No you're not. The bastard who Imperiused my apprentice is," Helena growled. Her eyes peered into his and conveyed their shared worry, "and while I am very touched by your willingness to sacrifice your life, I would rather not chance your fate just yet. Broc is right, you can't guaranteed that you will be able to save Poppy. The only way such a method could work effectively is if both participants are close to one another, which you are not and neither is Galatea. Let us wait for another hour or two. In my experience, there are times when patience and a few silent prayers are the best thing, and while I detest doing so, this is definitely one of those times."
"And if she doesn't come around?"
Helena's hands shook at the weight of his words. "Then may the Gods have mercy on my soul, for while I want Poppy to live, I could never permit trading her life for another's," she paused to steady her voice. "Such actions always tend to come full circle, one way or another."
Albus caught Helena's free hand squeeze Galatea's out of the corner of his eye. It was curious why she felt the need to do so. Clearly it had something to do with past experiences, but he had a hard time imagining what it could be.
"I think it best that we return to my original question, Albus," the elder witch suggested.
Albus bobbed his head, filing away his thoughts for further pondering. "As I was saying, I suspect that Riddle is responsible for the Imperiusing, but alas, I cannot prove it. He covered his tracks well."
"Nothin' a few drops o' Veritaserum won't fix."
Galatea sighed, "While I sorely wish that were possible, Broc, unless the Minister herself deems it so, it is illegal to use truth serum on a minor. If Albus cannot prove it, then Evangeline will dismiss the threat and forget all about it."
"More like she'll hope we'll handle any further trouble that spurs from it," Nathan hissed.
"Did I tell you I got her to confess?" The elder witch crossed her legs and placed an arm around Helena's shoulders.
The Scotsman leaned forward onto his chair, suddenly energized. "Ye're joking! How on earth did yeh manage that?"
"I got on her bad side, and had a little bit of help from Minerva."
While Nathan chuckled gleefully, Helena was clearly not so pleased. "Yes and to the point that she threatened you for it!"
"Pfft!" Nathan rolled eyes eyes. "As if there's anything dear old Evangeline could say that could keep Faol quiet."
"Actually," Galatea whispered while running her fingers over Helena's shoulder, "there is."
Albus's eyes widened, and although he was curious, he wasn't about to ask how the Minister could keep Galatea Merrythought silent, but Nathan did away with the wonder immediately.
"Oh, ye're talkin' about the night-"
"Aye, the night I let my parents' murderer slip away," the elder witch interjected.
Albus noticed the mood of the room instantly darken as Nathan bowed his head and Helena squeezed her partner's hand. He knew the topic was one that caused Galatea great distress, but he had no idea that the incident was a black mark on ex-Auror's record.
Nathan growled, "I thought Minister Spavin ensured yeh that file would stay black."
"That was before I decided to keep the Nightingales running against the Ministry's wishes. Clearly Spavin advised Evangeline to keep me on a leash if need be. You know how politicians are, always wanting to ensure that they have control over every blasted thing they can."
"Well yeh could always fire back."
"Our loyalty oath, Broc. We can't abandon that."
"Damn that fucking oath, Faol, we made that almost forty bloody years ago and under a completely different administration! We're talkin' about Evangeline using the Nightingales for her own benefit! The press is still wantin' details for over half the shit we did in our first ten years as Aurors, and," Galatea stiffened as Nathan went on, "they're especially keen to know what happened regardin' yer missions to Azkaban's Gate, Albania, Vladivostok's Fortress-"
"No!" the elder witch shouted, startling everyone. Her reaction reminded Albus of the day he asked her for advice before entering the Dark Forest of Albania and brave the Dragon Cliffs to find a mythical dragon.
During the final quarter of the 19th century, it was common knowledge that the Ministry was sending their Aurors to investigate and put an end to a string of Dark Magic incidents in Eurasia. However, details of the missions were highly classified material. The common conspiracy was that the Ministry itself was responsible for whatever horrors that had been unleashed. To add fuel to the fire, the Aurors who were involved either went mad, went into hiding, or gained great fame - which only added to the public's suspicions.
When Galatea had emerged from her mission in the the Dark Forest of Albania, she came out a hero. The forest was strictly forbidden because anyone who entered and didn't resurface after three days were never seen again. Yet Galatea became the exception when she emerged victorious from her mission on the seventh day, which was why Albus sought her advice specifically. She had been open about giving him survival tips and some brief training, but the moment he had asked anything specifics regarding her mission there, she snapped at him.
"No, I would rather not, old friend," Galatea's soft spoken voice brought Albus back to reality, "as disclosing such events would likely be viewed as treason, especially with the state that the Kingdom is in." She sighed heavily. "We might not even need to fight those barriers, though. There will be enough questions about why a Nightingale was at Hogwarts in the first place and why the Ministry wasn't defending Hogwarts themselves. The public will start asking those questions and form their own conclusions." Galatea turned her attention back to Albus, who'd been watching the two interact with fascination. "So what about Lutrov, Albus? Are you certain the boy had no involvement tonight?"
Albus opened his mouth to reply, but found he needed to rethink his answer. His thoughts whirled around their secret conversation, searching for a way to reply.
What can I say? The boy is being used by his master, and Mikail knows it, he just doesn't know Karkaroff's motives and intentions. Are they for good or ill? Karkaroff is Grindelwald's right hand advisor, Durmstrang's Legilimens master, the Untergang's Recruit Overseer. Whatever he's up to it won't be good, or simple. There's so much that needed to be done. So much that needed to be investigated and verified.
"Albus?" Helena's voice snapped him from his thoughts. He blinked and glanced up at his friends and colleagues that were staring at him. "Are you still with us?"
There's a reason everyone thinks you're mad, you fool.
"Yes, forgive me, I was lost in thought," Albus flashed a smile of gratitude at Helena, then returned his attention to impatient crystal eyes. "Mikail and I had a good chat, Galatea, and I can assure you, he is not responsible for this. I can say no more than that though."
The witch pursed her lips and gave him a long, hard look that made Albus feel like he was her pupil all over again, before she sighed in submission. "Oh very well, I'll drop it..."
Albus could hear the unspoken 'for now' lingering on her lips, and was very grateful that Helena decided to change the topic as it eased the tension in the room.
"Broc, I've been meaning to ask," Helena shifted slightly in Galatea's embrace to face Nathan, "how did you reach Minerva before Albus and I? I have been trying to figure that out for hours. Fawkes didn't teleport you in the room did he?"
"I only wish the ruddy bird had, he would have saved me about five or six minutes of anxiety while I ran around the castle tryin' to find them girls," Nathan huffed, his body tensing at the memory. "There's another entrance near the North Dungeons and it's without a surprising and potentially deadly drop, I might add."
It didn't take much for Albus to pretend he was hearing this information for the first time. He stroked his beard, matching Nathan's story with Mikail's as Helena continued. "How on earth did you find it?"
"Let's just say I have a contact. I don't know for sure who it is, but they've given me quite a few tips over the course of this year, including the alley where those cats were found. He, or she, sent me a letter this evening."
"Might I see it?" the deputy asked this time.
The wizard pulled a folded piece of parchment from his inner robe pocket and tossed it to Albus with just a bit of magic, enabling it to fly directly to the deputy. "It's a drawing of where the opening is and the long passageway that leads into the room. They even added how to trigger it open."
Albus nodded as he gazed at the parchment. The first thing he noticed was the easily identifiable smell of ink - ink that the knew could only found in Moscow's Wizardry market; and the second was the distinguished mark on the left corner. To the untrained eye it looked like a sideways shield, with a cross in the middle. Albus had to force himself to keep his face straight. His trust in Mikail had not been misplaced.
"Might I see it?" Galatea asked, her gaze transfixed on the letter like a hungry wolf stalking it's prey. When she caught the parchment, the elder witch held it close to her face, sniffing deeply. Her expression suddenly grew very dark and dangerous. "I've smelled this ink before."
"Oh of that I have no doubt," Albus muttered. He really should have kept his mouth shut, but sometimes he really did enjoy being cryptic. Where was the fun in life, if one didn't take it's advantages and create some entertainment?
Helena's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Just a theory," he lied as he conjured a comfy chair to settle in.
"You are not the only one who uses that line, Albus Dumbledore," Galatea glared at him. "Your eyes twinkled in that damn mischievous way that you know I detest. You know something. Start talking."
"I'm afraid I cannot, Galatea, even if I wanted to, but I can assure you, Broc, that your contact is a person with good intentions." Albus took another drink of the delicious wine, partly to hide his amusement and partly to ignore his colleague's piercing gaze. "What we really should be talking about is what we're going to do with the culprits and this 'E.K' figure. Minerva wondered if it might be Erlend Karkaroff, Mikail Lutrov's master."
"Yes, Helena expressed as much. It is a puzzling matter; on the one hand, I would not expect Karkaroff to use his initials, it is far too obvious," Galatea elaborated. "However, on the other, these foolish imbeciles clearly wished to join the Untergang," she paused, before letting out a sigh. "Terror is what they do best, and by Merlin, they would have no trouble achieving that if they made it known that even Hogwarts is'nae safe from their tyranny."
Nathan shook his head before finally downing the rest of his wine. "If it is Karkaroff, then what shall we do with Mikail Lutrov?"
"I will do as I see fit, the boy is in my House after all," Albus interjected. "No one will lay a hand on him without my permission, I do hope that is clear."
Galatea raised her hand, signalling a truce, "I assure you, Albus, I had no intentions of doing anything."
"Shit!" Helena suddenly jumped up from the settee, dropping the crystal orb in her place, and bolted to where her apprentice lay with a speed and agility Albus hadn't seen since Dealg had attacked her.
The other three looked from Helena then back to the glass orb, which was slowly turning red and it's contents beginning to dim. Albus still wasn't precisely sure what the sphere was, but he could infer from Helena's demeanour that it was synced with Poppy's condition. Judging by Helena's reaction, things had just taken a turn for the worse.
"Oh Gods, she's having a seizure!" Galatea whispered as she quickly snatched up the orb and moved to Helena's side. Albus and Nathan followed quickly, moving closer to Poppy's bedside in case they were needed. As the matron began filling a rather muggle looking injector with a potion, Poppy's shaking worsened, turning into the most horrific of convulsions.
"Hold her down!" Helena barked as she removed the applicator from the bottle. "I can't inject her while she's thrashing like this!"
They did as ordered and Albus was quite thankful that Poppy was a lean witch, for her body put up a valiant fight against them. Amazingly, it only took Helena one try to inject her apprentice's neck accurately, no doubt thanks to decades of experience. It took a few minutes to work, but the potion seemed to do the trick. Poppy's body calmed and the three of them could let go and catch their breath.
Galatea returned the glass sphere to Helena, now with it's brightness returned. The matron bit her lip as inspected the sphere, which was still red at the centre. She released a sigh, smoothing Poppy's hair back. "Galatea, if you would, go to my special stores. I'm going to need two 15 and 30 percent morphine induced painkiller potions, and one 50 percent."
"50? Helena, you hardly ever go that high."
"I know, but if- when she wakes up, she will be in a lot of pain and I would rather be safe than sorry."
Albus watched as the elder witch gazed at her partner, apparently rooted to the floor for a moment with sympathy swirling in her eyes. Galatea took a step forward and cupped Helena's cheek, gently turning her face as she leaned in and kissed her partner. She whispered a few Gaelic words, then went on her way. Whatever was said seemed to fortify Helena. She wiped her eyes then turned to Albus.
"If Poppy doesn't wake up soon, her seizures will continue and she likely enter a coma."
"What can we do?"
"I can give us time before her next seizure and minimize the effect, but it won't last long. I hate to say it Albus, but I think our only option is Mikail Lutrov."
Albus stiffened, "No, absolutely not! That would be putting two students-"
"He's very close to her and has Legilimens knowledge! He can bring Poppy back much more efficiently and safely than even you, Albus!"
"It doesn't change the fact that it's endangering his life."
"Don't give me that, you did the same this evening. Damn your Gryffindor pride, or your need for redemption - or whatever the hell you're feeling, and just think! It would take you and hour if not more. We don't have that time, Albus! We're talking about Poppy's life! Mikail is much younger than you, he'll have far more time in Limbo than than you will!" Helena's grey eyes misted again.
"Easy there, love," Broc murmured, pointing to the glass orb. Albus watched, suddenly mesmerised by the full spectrum that was shining from within.
Poppy murmured something incoherent, which was followed by Helena's gasp, "Poppy, wake up! Can you hear me, darling?"
Her eyes lazily opened. "Min?" Poppy whispered, sound very disorientated.
"No dear, it's me, Helena. You're in hospital wing, everything's fine- no, no! Keep your eyes open, love! Don't go back asleep on me. Can you talk to me, Poppy?" Helena illuminated her wand and flashed before Poppy's eyes. Albus and Nathan exchanged looks of mutual fear as a moment of silence passed. "Darling, can you hear me?"
Poppy uttered a soft groan. "My head..."
"I know, I know, dear," the matron lowered her voice, stroking the hair from her patient's face. Three potions appeared on the bedside table and Helena immediately grabbed one. "I'm going to give you something for the pain, all right?"
Helena's apprentice merely mumbled as her eyes continued to flutter and tears of pain leaked from her eyes. Fifteen minutes passed before Poppy could do more than mumbled very short answers. Helena eventually succumbed to using a small dose of the highest grade painkiller, but it did the trick. Poppy, while drowsy and numb, was able to carry out a conversation. She was more than worried about Minerva than any of them expected. Apparently while she was unconscious, she had been able to hear some of the conversation between her friend and the Slytherin attackers, but Albus and Galatea assured her that Minerva was just fine.
Thirty minutes later, Helena announced that the threat of more seizures had passed for the young witch and that she would make a full recovery.
Mind, body, and spirit.
"When do you plan to see her?" a voice echoes softly.
There was a pause before another voice, distinctly Scottish, whispered back. "After breakfast, I need ta talk with Ath-sgal and the Minister again."
"Is there a date for the trials yet?"
"The first three will begin tomorrow."
Sleep still clouded Minerva's mind and she kept her eyes shut, but she was able to identify the voices as Helena and Galatea. They were close by her, probably just beyond the curtained area of her bed.
"That soon?" Helena asked.
"The Ministry wants to get them prosecuted and in Azkaban before someone can stage a rescue."
"And Ath-sgal?Is there much enemy chatter?"
"A hell of a lot, and she's not the only one picking up on it. The Ministry is all over it as well." Galatea exhaled a frustrated sigh as her voice hardened. "I swear, Helena, if Karkaroff- or any Untergang member for that matter -shows their face tomorrow, these trials will descend into chaos. There will be widespread panic, even riots, if the public see that, and this is exactly what they want, Helena, to throw the Wizarding World into chaos!"
"Calm down, gaol [love], and have some faith. With the Nightingales combined with the Ministry, even if they do turn up, the Untergang is bound to fail."
"Only if Evangeline takes the threat seriously," Galatea muttered.
"I don't think she can afford-"
"Psst, Min, are you up?"
At the sound of Poppy's voice, Minerva's eyes instantly snapped open and she rolled over, immediately wincing as pain shot through her legs. It was completely bearable though with the happiness she felt upon seeing her sister awake. Poppy was lying in her bed, looking sideways out of the corner of her eyes, but not turning to face her.
"Poppy! I'm so glad to see you're awake!" she exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"
"Dizzy, sore, my head hurts and I'm tired." the apprentice grumbled as Minerva adjusted herself to lie a more comfortable position. "Helena put me in a body bind so I can't move anything but my arms, and she hasn't let me go back to sleep since I woke up."
"How long ago was that?"
"About one in the morning, I think," Poppy's voice grew more laboured. "She says I'll be able to go to sleep soon, though. How are you?"
"A little sore, but nothing compared to what you're experiencing, I imagine. Did she tell you what happened?"
"Actually, Professor Dumbledore did. He watched me for an hour until Matron Sana could arrive. I don't remember much of last night, but I do remember hearing voices- well, the curse mainly… I won't forget that in a hurry." Remembering how close she had come to being struck by one, Minerva shivered. "He told me we're both very lucky to be alive, said you faced six opponents."
"It would have been eight if Avery hadn't switched sides at the last minute and stunned Umbridge."
"You're kidding!" Poppy exclaimed, chuckling softly. "Sweet Merlin, trouble just follows you everywhere! You know what everyone's going to be calling you again, right? Marvellous Minerva!"
Minerva cursed under her breath, she hadn't even thought of that. "Yes, well, another good reason to look forward to the end of term. Most people will be busy studying."
"That's true." Poppy's smile faded, "I should probably tell you, I'll be going home tomorrow afternoon. Helena wants me resting in a quieter, more relaxed environment than the Hospital Wing."
"For how long?"
"A few weeks, just until mum and dad leave for Sweden to get my aunt to the States," her voice dipped again. "They can't postpone that and I don't want them to, but I'll still be confined to the hospital until January at least."
The way Poppy was talking concerned Minerva. Either she was tiring quickly, or she was worried about something. "You don't sound too happy about going home."
"Really?" Poppy frowned. "I guess I'm just worried about leaving Mikail. Professor Dumbledore assured me that he isn't a suspect, but nevertheless, I wouldn't be surprised if Professor Merrythought will be keeping a much closer eye on him."
Minerva opened her mouth, but shut it quickly, deciding that it would be better not to tell her about 'E.K.'. She was a little surprised that Dumbledore was so convinced of Mikail's innocence, but she didn't question him. She did, however, worry about Mikail's loyalty to his Master, a man who was Grindelwald's advisor and perhaps most importantly, the Overseer for Untergang recruits.
"Could I asked you to look out for him, Min?" Poppy's voice broke through her thoughts. "I know you're skeptical of him, but, if nothing else, you need him for your memories."
Minerva had to give her friend credit, she knew how to drag her into something she wasn't keen on; but she did have a point. Without Mikail, she wasn't going to get her memories back.
"All right, Poppy, you have my word, but I'm not doing this just for me, all right? I want you to get better, love, and you're certainly not going to do that if you're stressed."
Poppy's tired hazel eyes sparkled. "Well, unlike you, I'm not stubborn as hell, so that in itself will help me recover faster."
Just as Minerva huffed, the curtains opened and Helena stepped in.
"Good morning, Minerva."
"Good morning, Helena."
The matron looked at her apprentice. "Poppy, love, you can sleep now. You've stayed awake long enough."
"I think I can manage to stay awake a little longer," Poppy smirked, "I'd like to see how you get answers out of Min."
"Whatever you learn, it won't work for you, Poppy," Minerva flashed a glare at her sister, "I've known you too long."
A smirk appeared on both healer's faces as they shared a glance.
"It's always worth a shot," Helena muttered, turning to look at Minerva with a very serious look in her eyes. "Tell me, how are you feeling? And don't give me a short one word answer, I want the truth, all of it."
Minerva held up her hands in surrender. It was too early in the morning to be interrogated. "I'm all right. My ankles are a little sore."
"What's your pain on a scale from one to ten?"
"About four? Nothing compared to how they were last night."
Helena nodded, passing her a potion and casting a diagnostic. "You'll probably be here for about six days, five if you continue to heal well and obey all of my orders. I have already talked with your Professors so you don't need to worry about that."
Minerva nodded, then swallowed the potion which tasted so bad that she had force herself not to gag.
"Galatea will be here after breakfast. Also, you should know that the doors are being locked due to the mass of students wanting to see you," Helena grumbled the last part with the utmost disapproval.
"When will you allow me to see anyone?"
"After you've eaten properly, I suppose I can let your friends in, but I don't want anyone disturbing Poppy while she sleeps. Is that understood?"
Minerva couldn't help but smile at Helena's defensiveness towards Poppy. "Yes, Madam, I'll make sure of it. How did Galatea take the news last night?"
"She's thankful that you're all right, let's leave it at that." Helena replied, then turned to leave before suddenly remembering, "Oh and I should probably mention, your father will be here at noon."
Minerva's brows rose. "Alone?"
"Yes, I think so. I hear that Cayden and Isobel were be gone today, she's taking him somewhere. I'll have an elf bring your breakfast in five minutes, and Poppy, if you're still awake..."
Both of them turned to look at the witch, only to realise that she was already fast asleep. A smile turned the corners of their mouths, both happily content to watch her dozing peacefully, and thank the Gods that they were still able to do so.
Galatea and Professor Dumbledore stopped by separately to see her after breakfast, and while their conversations were short, Minerva enjoyed each visit immensely. The elder witch stopped by first, and to Minerva's great relief, she didn't lecture her about her actions the night before. They simply talked, openly and honestly, which was relieving after the harrowing ordeal and then Helena's lecture. It was very reassuring to hear Galatea express how proud was, especially when she made sure to tell Minerva not once, but twice. Minerva easily noticed that her mentor seemed rather tired; a glaze formed over her crystal eyes every now and then whenever she tilted her head. She seemed to lose focus on the conversation like Professor Dumbledore did on occasion. At the time, Minerva thought it was because the elder witch was lost in thought, but after she had gone, Minerva realised how absurd that was. Galatea was usually completely focussed, on whatever she was doing.
Professor Dumbledore had turned up as Galatea was leaving. He had less to say, which was probably for the best because the moment Minerva looked into his eyes, she remembered him picking her up and carrying her to the Hospital wing. The feeling of his hands wrapped around her waist, so strong and sturdy; the twinkling in his eyes as he looked down at her; his smile, and the way his voice vibrated in his chest and echoed in her ears as he carried her through the halls...
Her stomach fluttered at the memory and she had to fight to keep herself from blushing. It wasn't as if he hadn't done that before. He had grabbed her in a similar fashion when he had protected her from the exploding feathers. Why was this time so different?
Nothing, she told herself over and over. Nothing is different. You're delusional and your body is just hormonal. There is nothing different.
She didn't have to hide her thoughts for long, though. When Professor Dumbledore revealed that Oscar had been found dead last night, the blood in Minerva's veins chilled. Had it been Mico, Minerva knew she would be devastated, and her heart felt heavy for Augusta. She was thankful though, that he personally reassured her that Mikail wasn't behind this, something she was grateful for, in the wake of her promise to Poppy. Just before he left, he awarded her 150 points for her bravery, which brought a small smile to her lips. Gryffindor was now in the lead for the House Cup.
Before her father arrived , Helena had reluctantly given in and allowed Rolanda, Mikail, Augusta and Kevin, as well as Pomona and Hestia, to visit Minerva; then later, Septimus Weasley and Emmeline Vance, whom Minerva made sure to thank for providing her with a 'distraction'. Malcom and Hagrid arrived a little later, the big Gryffindor passing Minerva a large bouquet of flowers and a card, while Malcom quietly wished her a speedy recovery. He seemed moodier than usual and Minerva had a hard time imagining why. She really hoped the other students were not bothering him because of her actions.
Not long after Malcom and Hagrid left, did her father walked out of Helena's office, talking quietly to the Healer. They cast a quick glance at Minerva and exchanged polite smiles, before Robert came over to her and Helena went to check on Eileen Prince.
"How are you feelin', Minnie?"
"I'm okay, Papa. How are you?"
"Thankful that you're alive," her father sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
"How much did Helena tell you?"
"I am quite certain that she did not tell me everythin', but it was enough for me know that I should be thanking God for looking after you once more. It was a brave thing yeh did, protectin' Poppy by holding your ground until help could arrive. I'm so very proud of you, Minerva, and so is Cayden." Robert smirked as amusement flashed across his face. "You should have seen him this morning when I told him what you did, he started stompin' around the house, declaring he was going to be a hero just like his big sister. You've got quite the little admirer, you know?"
Minerva giggled, which turned into a laugh as her father joined in, until her smile faded and an ache took hold of her heart. She missed her little brother terribly. "Will you tell him that I love him, please? And that I'm very sorry I can't be home for Christmas this year. I'll be sure to send him his present in time, along with everyone else's."
"I will," he nodded his head.
She searched her father's face for a moment, trying to read the strange look he had, but she decided to voice her concerns anyway and hoped he would be truthful. "You're really not angry that I won't be attending?"
"No, darling. I'm angry at other things, but not you."
"Màthair, then?"
Robert's gaze faltered for a moment as he sighed. "Not even at her, really. As hard as it is to be mindful of it sometimes, it really isn't your máthair who is the one doin' the most harm. I can often get her to come back to me without much effort, but as of late, it's... grown more difficult." Minerva tried not to hear the tremble in his voice as he continued, "She told me what you asked her last time you spoke. You wondered if she had a mental disorder, and knowin' her, I doubt she answered you at all. Well ye're right, partially. It's a magical thing, though, and it causes her to become a completely different person. I'm sure you've noticed, even with your limited time with her, that her sanity is wanin'."
"Yes, I certainly have," Minerva muttered, reflecting on past conversations and memories. "Papa, when did she began to slip?"
Robert frowned as he inhaled deeply. "That... is a difficult question to answer, even for me. It has been so very subtle perhaps from the time when you were born, but in the past few years it's become worse. Sometimes it seems as though the things she does are out of madness, which it's not, and that's why it makes it so hard to judge."
She pursed her lips at his reply, remembering her recovered memories. "Papa, do you know the real reason she abandoned Helena and Galatea?"
"No, I do not," he replied, sadness lacing his words. "We will have to talk more about this later dear, over the summer I think." Robert clicked his tongue. "Speaking of which, I'm planning on visiting my family's grave site in August. I'd like you to join me, just the two of us."
"I would like that a lot, Papa."
"Good," he nodded, "good. We can talk about my side of the family as well, I feel you're old enough to know what happened between them and I. We'll have a good time. Now," Robert rose from the bed, "I best be gettin' back, Cayden and your mother will be returning at any moment. I hope you are feeling better soon, dear. Send me a letter- and make sure you have Galatea send it."
"I know Papa."
"I know you know," he kissed her forehead, then searched her eyes for a tender moment, before leaving the hospital.
The warm feeling that her father had brought with him faded as Minerva watched him go. All she was left with was her remorse and pain. She was certain that, had she the ability to do so, she would be fighting tears at the moment. Minerva waved her hand to close the curtains and let the feeling of loss wash over her. She damned the Untergang, as for once in her life, she just wanted to be able to go home and spend time with her family. She missed Malcom, Cayden, her father- and despite everything she had done -even her mother. Minerva wanted to see if she could get something out of the woman who had supposedly once loved her; something that could help her solve the mystery that was her life.
But that wasn't going to happen, not this year at least. If Isobel continued to decline at the pace she had been, then it wasn't going to be next year either, or the next.
Or the years after that...
A/N: Why yes, yes I did make a chapter that had more Albus than Minerva in it ;) As always, I hope you enjoyed; and for those returning to school, I wish you good fortune for this term.
Also, MacGilleMhoire is the Scottish Gaelic version of the surname "Morrison". I didn't exactly explain this because I felt it wasn't realistic for Albus to suddenly remember something he already knew - it's really awkward to write...
Next time: "Snow"
