"Without telling us"

From the moment he entered the class, the wizard remembered why he hated being a teacher.

The mere sight of students irritated him. All those eyes blindly looking at him, hands thoughtlessly copying everything he said, made him recall a most important truth. The young witches and wizards had been thought abysmally little about his subject, and he bet they knew even less. Even though the world moved forward and the magic was more advanced than ever, the kids were never nearly as good as he was at their age. The groups he taught were rather small, so he'd usually be lucky if there was one person who followed his lecture relatively well.

This time, he knew of at least two. To determine who they were, the professor started the lesson with a pop-quiz.

"Who can tell me what are the three main goals in modern alchemy?"

One hand went up almost at once, just as predicted. The wizard waited a moment longer, but the other student did not wish to speak up. Slightly disappointed, the professor asked,

"Will you answer the question for us, Mister…?"

"Riddle, Professor."

This was the charming Slytherin prefect he was warned about, if the teacher remembered correctly. Truth be told, the boy didn't seem dangerous, but Flamel had to admit there was something unsettling about the kid's demeanour.

Riddle continued. "The main goals of alchemy are to create an immortal body, make the elixir of youth, and change base metals into noble metals."

Professor Flamel nodded. "That's correct, boy. Although, when you word your answer in this manner, it becomes impossible to tell whether these goals are interconnected, and they are. Does anybody know why?"

Riddle raised his hand again. Still, there was another person that knew the answer to his question. Probably the one that wasn't playing with her quill or pretending to make notes but rather held his gaze.

"Maybe you'll tell us, Miss? What's your name?"

"Minerva," the witch replied.

"Last name," specified Nicolas.

"McGonagall, sir."

Nicolas gave her a curious look. So this was the girl whose proposal Albus so blatantly refused. Interesting.

"Unlike base metals," said Minerva, complying with the teacher's request, "noble metals do not undergo the process of corrosion, which is interpreted as their eternal youth or immortality. And, when a person is young, then they are far less likely to die of terminal illnesses or fatigue caused by old age."

Professor Flamel nodded, satisfied with her answer.

"Correct again. Now, alchemy partially succeeded in accomplishing each of its tasks. Hostanes was the first wizard to show how to transform any metal into gold or silver. Years later, Trismegistus created a non-aging piece of fig wood, but no one was able to repeat his results. Finally, it was I who made the Philosopher's Stone."

Riddle's hand went to the air. "But your creation was a full success, wasn't it, Professor?"

Nicolas gave the boy a pitiful look.

"Not even close, son. The stone does not make one younger, nor does it stop the process of aging."

"Nevertheless, your life's expectancy, sir, has been widely expanded. Does it not grant you immortality, then?"

"No, it does not," the professor admitted without hesitation. "The stone has much more flaws than you'd think. You can learn all about it from the publications I and Albus wrote about its properties."

Riddle's face grew red, and he dropped the subject. Nicolas returned to the main topic of the lesson.

"So, now that you had a proper introduction, open your books at the chapter about differences between switching spells and alchemical reactions. You'll find detailed instructions on how to change the copper wires you were given into silver. You have until the next lesson to make your first fully successful transformation. If you encounter any trouble, remember that I'm here to help you."

As he said, he might hate his job, but he was a professional.

The rest of the lesson went by smoothly. Minerva was quite satisfied with her end results, even though she still wasn't ready to hand her work in for grading.

When the bell rang, the witch packed her things hastily and left with the rest of the class, bidding Professor Flamel goodbye. With today's last lesson out of the way, all the girl could think about was the party that awaited her. Only her, her best friends, food, and alcohol − what else could she ask for?

"Hello, Minerva." A joyful greeting took her back to reality, which was Dumbledore standing in her way.

"Hi, Professor," she said automatically, altering her path to go past him.

Instead of passing her, though, she found that the Transfiguration Professor was now walking alongside her. This made Minerva rise an eyebrow. She had assumed that the teacher was here to talk to Flamel, who was his former research partner and long-time friend. The last thing she wanted now was to…

"I need to speak with you," she heard him say.

With sudden worry, the girl asked, "We're still meeting in your office after the break, right?"

For a split second, she could have sworn that Professor Dumbledore looked puzzled. His expression changed before she could be sure, though.

"Yes, of course," he replied with a nod.

Minerva breathed out a sigh of relief. She would have been very disappointed if her Head of House changed his mind at the last moment. After all, she came to his office a whole two weeks ago to get a permission to organize her birthday party in Hogsmeade. After being asked several questions concerning the type, length, and place of the event, as well as the number of invited guests, she was officially allowed to organize her seventeenth birthday in the Three Broomsticks. Due to the emergency war restrictions and regulations, every student attending the party was to Floo to and from the pub directly from Professor Dumbledore's office and under his supervision. Minerva considered this a perfect opportunity to invite her teacher along. She really wished for him to come and was sure he'd say yes. Therefore, the wizard's reply hit her like a bucket of cold water. The girl recalled his answer. I would like to, but I already have plans.

The easiest excuse ever.

Still, if the teacher wasn't here to tell her that the party was off, then why? His unusual behaviour added to the mystery. She could tell he was acting weird. He was glancing on and off at her in a very awkward way. He looked like an embarrassed school boy, shy and painfully self-conscious. Even though he was the reason she'd been irritated for the last couple of days, Minerva couldn't help but find this side of him endearing. Apparently having noticed that his presence was welcome, the wizard spoke to her at last.

"There is something I want to ask you," he said and went silent again. She had to admit her professor knew how to make a dramatic pause. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Does your offer still stand?"

Minerva blinked in disbelief. Her mind supplemented the context with what she'd been thinking about, but the witch refused to get her hopes up.

"My offer?" she asked in a voice that was a tad too high.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. He wasn't looking at her but rather ahead when he clarified,

"You invited me to your birthday party, remember? I know this is late, but− My question is, can I still come?"

The witch's face lit up momentarily. He hadn't seen her beam at him like that since her first successful Animagus transformation.

"Of course!" she exclaimed without thinking. Supposing that she should have played it cool, less eagerly she added, "I mean, sure you can. We'll be happy to have you."

Witnessing her rare display of enthusiasm, the Transfiguration Professor became visibly more relaxed. Minerva was tempted to ask why the sudden change of heart, but she worried he might back away. Together, they walked to his office, meeting Augusta at the door. The girl was evidently in a good mood.

"Evening, Professor," said Augusta in a cheery voice. Then, she gave her friend a playful punch on the arm. "Hi, Minerva. Ready to party?"

Minerva responded with a soft smile. "I sure am. It's been ages since we left the grounds."

"Tell me about it," replied Augusta, her tone bitter. "Another month and I'd forget how the rest of the world looks like."

In the meantime, the Transfiguration teacher undid the lock. Chivalrously, he held the door open for the girls and let them enter first. He walked them to his fireplace and opened a small box that stood on the mantelpiece.

"I will go first," stated the wizard as he took a pinch of the Floo powder. "Please stay here and count to ten. If I'm not back by that time, you may promptly follow."

Having made sure that the girls understood his instructions, the professor threw the powder into the fire. Emerald green flames erupted from the burning logs. He stepped right into them, gave his students one last look, and said loud and clear,

"Three Broomsticks."

Ten seconds later, he was joined by Augusta, and finally also by Minerva. There were more people waiting for them, though.

"Hi, Rolanda! It's so good to see you," stated Minerva in one breath, giving her friend a heartfelt hug. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Barely. If you think that turning seventeen means more freedom, don't. I want you to meet my escort." Rolanda pointed to a woman standing a few steps behind her. "Mom, these are Minerva and Augusta."

They greeted the older witch with a handshake.

"Alright, can you go now?" whined Rolanda, rushing her mother out.

"Yes, of course. We wouldn't like to spoil your fun, now would we?" stated Mrs. Hooch, glancing in Albus's direction. "I'll be in the shopping district; maybe I'll find the straw hat that you liked so much. Don't go anywhere, don't drink too much, and wait for me to pick you up. Love you, bye!"

"Yeah, see you," replied her daughter with a quick wave of her hand. After the woman disappeared behind the door, the girl exclaimed, "Finally! So, where are we sitting?"

Minerva approached the bar to inform the bartender that they had a reservation. The young wizard escorted the group to a small table in the back. Augusta and Rolanda seemed a little confused about their professor's presence but expected nothing of it. Maybe he was being extra cautious and needed to make sure that his prefect girl wouldn't change locations the moment he disappeared.

Until he approached the same table.

When Albus saw the confused expressions on their faces, he couldn't help but feel a little out of place. What else did he expect, though? He declined Minerva's invitation the moment she extended it and told her he could make it mere minutes ago. The girls had no forewarning that one more person would be joining them this evening.

They all took their seats. Augusta and Rolanda sat next to each other, leaving Minerva the place next to Dumbledore. There was a long, awkward silence. Minerva's friends were never as relaxed around their professor as she was. So it was Albus who spoke first.

"Have you heard that, at one point, the name of this pub was almost changed to Two Broomsticks? The owners had a disagreement about their favourite Quidditch player transferring to another team. One of them almost left the business, but they all made up in the end."

"I've heard that two wanted to leave," commented Minerva.

Dumbledore gave it a thought. "You could be right. After all, this happened a very long time ago."

Noticing that his story didn't have the desired effect, he changed the approach.

"Is your birthday today, Minerva?"

"No, it was last week," the witch replied, wondering whether she should deliberate over this. Her friends made the decision for her.

"Why is your party so late then?" asked Rolanda with sudden interest. "Couldn't you have made it a week ago?"

"No, I couldn't have. I promised Malcolm that I would spend my birthday with him." More cheerfully, she added, "But today, I'm all yours. And I'm very happy that all of you could make it."

"It wasn't easy, mind you," Rolanda pointed out with a wink. "If you think you have no free time while in school, try having a job."

"Hey!" objected Augusta, giving her friend a playful nudge on the ribs. "I'm in a N.E.W.T. class now, remember? It's no cakewalk, either."

"It's uplifting to see that, regardless of the unfavourable circumstances, you're able to keep in touch. Strong friendships like yours are hard to come by."

All three pairs of eyes landed on Professor Dumbledore, whose comment successfully stopped the banter on who had to sacrifice more in order to be there for Minerva. The witch sitting next to him was not a burden but someone worth making an effort for. He hoped his words conveyed the message well.

"Can I take the order?" asked the waiter, who appeared at the table unnoticed by anyone.

"Oh, we haven't decided yet," said Minerva apologetically, reaching for the menu. "Could you recommend us something to eat?"

"The chef's specialty is a cattle cheese deep dish pie."

The girl glanced at her guests. They seemed eager to try it.

"Alright, we'll have the pie," she told the waiter, who scribbled the order on his notepad.

"Anything to drink?"

The students glanced at their teacher questioningly. They were in a pub, after all. Surely, they wished to drink something stronger than pumpkin juice.

"You two are overage," said the professor, indicating Rolanda and Minerva, "I can't stop you from ordering whatever you'd like."

"Oh great," complained Augusta, rolling her eyes. "I'll be the only one getting good old butterbeer."

Professor Dumbledore smiled with sympathy. "I'll be having butterbeer, as well."

"You don't have to, Professor," said the youngest witch, taken aback. She wanted to drink what they did, not the other way around.

"Oh yes, I do. You see, I'll be Apparating later, and I'd rather not splinch myself."

Minerva was slightly disappointed. If her teacher was leaving soon enough not to drink, it meant that their time together was very limited. Not wanting to let her emotions show, she focused on placing the order.

"Two butterbeers, a firewhisky, and…" a quick check with Rolanda, "another firewhisky, please."

"Yes, ma'am." The waiter left as suddenly as he appeared. Now that they were waiting to eat and drink, the guests remembered that they were on a birthday party.

"Presents!" shouted Augusta, opening her handbag. She took out a rectangular package and handed it to Minerva. Rolanda did the same with a carefully wrapped gift box. "Happy birthday!"

Having received the wishes, the birthday girl was allowed to open her gifts.

Augusta gave her the board game Goblins and Trolls. It was a turn-based strategy, where one player controlled an army of goblins, and the other one an army of trolls. They fought each other on a hexagonal grid with hand-made minifigures that represented each faction. Minerva remembered playing the game with Monty Longbottom one Christmas break. She enjoyed it so much that she planned to get her own set one day.

"Merlin's beard! How did you know? Thank you so much." Minerva leaned across the table to give Augusta a hug. Wasting no time, she grabbed the next present. She shook it slightly, trying to guess what's inside.

"Maybe you should open mine somewhere private…" said Rolanda with a mischievous smirk.

Her comment made Minerva ten times more curious about the content of the package, but she figured her friend knew what she was talking about. Reluctantly, the witch hid the box away in her bag, together with the board game. She put extra effort in making sure that nothing would get damaged by her heavy books.

Their order arrived soon after. Conversation was replaced with consumption. The cattle cheese deep dish pie looked great and smelled even better. It came pre-cut into eight equal pieces, yet the hot cheese melted everything back together. Minerva did the honours of slicing the pie again, so that everybody could take their portion. As a bonus, their meal came with two homemade sauces. The girl was glad she skipped lunch, because the pie was truly delicious.

After the alcohol flew by, their talks became much smoother.

"So, Professor, do you go to many parties?" asked Rolanda, evidently a little tipsy.

"I'm afraid not," replied Professor Dumbledore, shaking his head. "Regretfully, I'm not very popular among students."

"Then you must really like Minerva to accept her invitation."

The wizard looked sideways, considering his student. With his eyes lingering over her features, he stated,

"I find Minerva hard to dislike."

Minerva withstood his gaze, her cheeks reddening more from the unexpected compliment than from the firewhisky. She changed the subject to hide her discomfort.

"Why did your mom come here with you, Rolanda?"

With an audible snort, the witch replied, "She didn't believe I could make it on my own, obviously." She gave a short, humourless laugh. "If I'm being honest, my parents can be paranoid sometimes."

"Mine don't even know I'm here. They'd freak out if I told them," admitted Augusta, taking another sip of her butterbeer. She almost choked, as she remembered that she probably shouldn't have said that in front of her Transfiguration teacher. Pleadingly, she addressed him. "Please don't tell them, Professor."

"I'm off duty, Miss Finch. Your secret is safe with me," said Professor Dumbledore, smiling.

"What about−" Rolanda almost threw the question at Minerva but restrained herself in the last moment. She shouldn't do that, she realized; it had barely been a year. Smoothly, she redirected it to Dumbledore. "What about your parents, Professor? Were they also so overprotective and overreactive when you were our age?"

Holding her breath, Minerva observed the wizard carefully. For a long time, she wished to know more details from his private live but was too afraid to ask. Unlike her friends, the witch knew that her teacher lost his parents and sister at a very young age and therefore could be uncomfortable with the topic of family.

He played it cool, though.

"In my times, the country wasn't at war, so the parenting standards were different."

Not satisfied with the teacher's evasive answer, Rolanda wanted to ask for more details. Before she could, though, Minerva interrupted her to bring on a more neutral topic.

"Has the school changed much since you were a student?"

The Transfiguration Professor pondered over her question, stroking his chin with his fingers.

"Come to think of it, I don't reckon it has. Of course, there are several fresh faces, and the food has got better. Other than that, Hogwarts is timeless. I remember no major renovations, no new furniture, no redecorated classrooms. In fact, if you carved a message in your bench, I believe it would still be there for your kids to read." He emphasized the last part with a wink.

"Maybe you shouldn't give them ideas, sir," said an amused Rolanda, indicating her friends, who were still at school.

"If they did this after tonight, they would be the first suspects," Albus commented. He smiled to himself at the expressions on the girls' faces. "I believe this is the right moment for me to leave, so you could discuss your ideas more freely." Reluctantly, the wizard stood up. He was enjoying the company, but he knew it was time for him to go. He turned to face Minerva. "Thank you once again for letting me join you tonight. It was a great pleasure. I will see you later. Please be back before curfew."

Having said that, the teacher walked away. Minerva told herself she wouldn't watch him leave but, in the end, was unable to stop herself. She glanced over her shoulder just to see Professor Dumbledore disappear on the other side of the door. A short sigh escaped her mouth. She wished he would stay longer but at the same time was grateful for all the time that she'd got. After she turned back to face the rest of her guests, the questioning started.

"How could you invite him without telling us?" asked Augusta incredulously, indicating the professor who'd just left.

"Because he said he wouldn't come," said Minerva, feeling the sudden need to explain herself.

"Then why did he decide to come all of a sudden?"

The witch had no idea what to answer. She was so happy that he agreed that she didn't wonder what changed his mind in the first place.

"I don't know, I… didn't ask."

"Did you see what he was wearing?" interjected Rolanda, adding her own observation to the mix. "His robes looked very fancy. They weren't on the casual side, either. I wonder, did he intentionally dress up for the occasion?"

Augusta burst out laughing. She covered her mouth with one hand, while lifting the other one to indicate that she would like to say something. Her amusement was contagious. Minerva suspected she'd had some of Rolanda's drink when nobody was looking.

"If only his fangirls could see him!" the witch finally managed to speak through her chuckles. "They'd faint on the spot, I'm telling you. They're still going to be soooo jealous when they find out he came to your birthday, Minerva. You'll need to watch out, they'd want to know every detail."

Between Augusta's unexpected behaviour and her off-topic speech, something didn't add up.

"Wait, what fangirls?" asked Minerva with a frown.

"You know, the chicks that fancy him and make glassy eyes whenever he's around," her friend explained, as if this was a well-known fact. "It can be quite disturbing, really. Don't tell me you never noticed?"

The comment made Minerva uneasy. Whether it was the fact that a lot of students found Dumbledore attractive, that everything Augusta said was news to her, or that her friend disapproved, she wasn't sure. Meanwhile, Rolanda expressed her view on the subject.

"You can't blame them. He's not half bad-looking, is he? I mean, he's no Slughorn or Kettleburn, but he's no Binns either. Right, Minerva?"

Rolanda and her raised eyebrow expectantly awaited her answer. The witch in question suspected she ought to respond with Why are you asking me? or How should I know? All that escaped her mouth was a less eloquent,

"Erm…"

It seemed that the oldest witch wanted to add another remark, but she stopped herself under Augusta's glare. The point of this exchange was missed by Minerva.

"Alright, I admit that inviting Dumbledore wasn't as bad as I thought it would," said Augusta. "He even paid for us."

"What? He didn't."

Minerva evidently thought she was joking around. In response, the witch pointed at the bar.

"What do you think he paid for at the counter, then?"

Refusing to believe her words, Minerva went to ask the barman for a bill. True enough, the entire price had already been covered. The girl smiled to herself. So, Professor Dumbledore gave her a gift, after all.

When it was finally time to leave, the two younger witches bid Rolanda and Mrs. Hooch goodbye before Flooing back to Dumbledore's office. The teacher greeted them with a respectful nod. He noted that Augusta's face seemed flushed but pretended not to have noticed.

"Thank you, sir. For the gift, I mean," stated Minerva, adding more details due to her professor's questioning gaze.

"You're quite welcome, my dear," he replied. "Forgive my blatancy, but I had very little time to come up with something."

As the students wished goodnight to their Head of House, Minerva couldn't help but recall Augusta's words from earlier that day. While they walked together to the Gryffindor Tower, she wondered whether she had been obvious enough for anyone to notice.