"Nothing I could do"
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have some work to do."
Having said that, Albus stood up from the teacher's table and left the Great Hall. Eating lunch with his colleagues took him much longer than expected. Judging from the fact that his latest absence was relatively short, his fellow teachers had a lot to discuss. Apparently, the wizard hadn't realized how much of his duties was related not to teaching itself but to being the Deputy Headmaster.
Ever since Albus was allowed to use his vacation days as he pleased, he'd been making a much better progress on tracking down Gellert. On the front lines, he was able to gather gossips, investigate rumours, and even access confidential reports of military officers'. According to his deductions, it was most likely that Grindelwald's centre of operations was located in a magically-protected fortress. A fortress that was even more well-hidden than Hogwarts itself. The name Numengard popped up several times, both as a name of the Dark Lord's headquarters and as a location of dungeons that imprisoned his opponents. Its placement, however, remained unknown.
Even though the information didn't come from a trusted source, Dumbledore couldn't help but feel optimistic, excited even. He was finally doing something. He was moving forward. His actions had a purpose. Of all people, it was he that could prevent further bloodshed. Nothing would stop him now, not even the fear to confront his former friend. No matter how much he dreaded facing him.
"Professor!"
Albus was brought back to reality by a voice calling after him. He looked over his shoulder to see Minerva approach him from a distance. At the sight of her teacher, the girl produced a warm, honest smile. He felt a grin creeping onto his face in response.
The professor waited for his student to catch up. When she did, her expression shifted into one of worry. Absentmindedly, Albus's hand travelled to his cheek to cover it. He supposed his recent injuries must have shown through the Disillusionment Charm. Despite all the preventive measures he undertook, the Deputy Headmaster didn't manage to come back from his mission unscathed.
"I wanted to ask you something," said Minerva, thankfully making no remark about his appearance. "Do you have a minute?"
"Of course," the teacher replied, gesturing for the girl to follow him. "I'm all ears."
"As you know, I'm taking the Ministry's Apparition course." Professor Dumbledore nodded, indicating that she could continue. "Right now, I'm getting quite good at reliably Apparating at my Destination. However, I'm always a little off to the right. So, I was wondering, how do you adjust your Deliberation to account for the extra distance?"
Albus slowed his pace to give Minerva a questioning look. Neither his teaching position nor their previous conversations indicated that he was an expert in Apparition.
"I am not the best person to ask, to be honest," he admitted truthfully. "I would advise you to talk to your instructor or, if this cannot wait, to Professor Flitwick. He is able to Apparate on great distances with top-notch precision. I'm sure he would be able to help you."
"Maybe," said the girl, a little uncertain, "but I'd rather talk to you."
Her response rendered the professor silent for several long steps. At the start of their talk, he was certain Minerva was going to ask him again about the reason for his frequent departures. Now he wasn't so sure anymore. Forced to consider other options, Albus came to a more obvious conclusion. Judging from her answer, she just wanted to speak with him and needed an excuse to do so. If this was the case, he would gladly oblige with her request. Merlin knew he was going to miss her.
"Personally, I find it helpful to imagine my target in small details," said the wizard, coming to a halt as he narrowed his eyes in concentration. He recalled all the steps he usually took for precision Apparating. "I try to remember how it looks, how it smells, how it feels when I'm standing there. Sometimes, I also pretend that being in that exact spot would bring me joy and peace. This is how I do it."
This was the moment, Minerva realized. The point in their conversation when she could tackle the topic that had been bothering her for weeks. She braced herself, took a deep breath, and, as she was about to bring up the subject, the girl was unexpectedly interrupted.
"E−Excuse me, um… Can we speak with you?"
It took her a while to take her eyes off the Transfiguration teacher and notice that there were two students standing right in front of her. She recognized them as third-year Gryffindors but forgot their names. Apparently, the professor had also just realized that they had company.
"Yes, of course," he replied, giving the young Gryffindors a warm smile. "Forgive me for a minute, Minerva. What do you need, boys?"
The third-years glanced at one another, confused.
"Well…" said the same boy as before. "Actually, sir, we meant Minerva."
Professor Dumbledore and Minerva exchanged surprised looks.
"Oh," uttered the witch, taken aback. She quickly regained her composure, though. "What is it you want from me?"
"We want to show you something," the young wizard stated cryptically. Both students looked expectantly between the prefect and the Transfiguration Professor, awaiting their reaction.
Minerva wasn't sure whether she should leave her teacher or tell the boys to wait. The decision was made for her.
"Duty calls. I guess I'll see you later, Minerva." Professor Dumbledore touched his hat politely and walked away without any hurry.
"So, where do you need me to go?" asked the witch, finding it hard to hide her irritation. Her time with Dumbledore had already been limited, and now it was cut even shorter.
Sometimes, she hated being a prefect.
"This way," said the third-year student that had been silent up until this point.
She followed them, hoping that whatever they needed her for was indeed important. In her duties as a prefect, Minerva mostly dealt with things that could have easily been resolved without her involvement. She remembered a time when someone had to be transported to the hospital wing due to a misplaced Engorgement Charm but was too ashamed to leave the room. Or when a fifth-year girl invited a boy for the night and their roommates were too uncomfortable to tell her off directly. Female students that needed hygiene pads in the middle of the night were a common occurrence. Inwardly, Minerva thanked Merlin for there being two male Gryffindor prefects. She wasn't sure she could handle boy puberty problems.
The boys lead her to the first floor, stopping right in front of the History of Magic classroom. Although the door was open, the rest of the class was waiting near the entrance and seemed strangely reluctant to get in. Discretely, she was pointed in that direction.
"What, you want me to go inside?" she uttered in a hushed voice.
The Gryffindors nodded, and the quiet boy added, "Just have a look."
Minerva knocked on the doorframe before she entered. At the teacher's desk, Professor Binns was preparing for the lecture. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Unless his appearance was taken into account.
"Good evening, sir," she said, pausing to lick her suddenly dry lips. Uncertain how to phrase her question, the witch simply added, "Is everything alright?"
"Of course it is!" the professor snapped at her, which was very unlike him. The wizard's nostrils flared in anger. "Why wouldn't it be? Why is everyone asking me that same question?"
Minerva blinked multiple times before she clarified, "Maybe it's because you seem unusually… transparent today. Have you noticed, Professor?"
Professor Binns looked himself over. He didn't seem impressed.
"Thank you for your concern, Miss, but there is completely nothing wrong with me. Now, excuse me, I have a class to prepare to."
Minerva disagreed but decided not to argue. This strange state of her teacher was definitely too much for her to handle. In a state of well-concealed panic, she left the classroom and went to get help.
While she was hurrying through the corridors, the girl pondered on possible reason of the professor's condition. From what she knew, the effect of semi-transparency could be achieved by various means. A disillusionment spell gone wrong, a fungi infection, being sprayed by a skunk-like creature that she was almost sure wasn't native to the Forbidden Forest. One other thing immediately sprang to her mind but was intentionally dismissed. Despite fearing the worst, she refused to acknowledge this option.
Before she knew it, Minerva found herself in front of the Staff Room. She passed the Gargoyles and went straight for the door. The girl had to knock twice before Professor Merrythought opened her. The expression on the older witch's face was very serious.
"Evening, Professor. I need to speak with you about Professor Binns."
After a short silence, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher said, "It's not the best time, I'm afraid."
Indeed, there seemed to be a commotion at the far end of the Staff Room. From behind the professor, Minerva could hear several people speaking at once, their voices raised. Their argument was broken by Madam Jacob's tired voice.
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I could do. It appears that he passed away in his sleep."
Suddenly alarmed, the girl leaned sideways to take a quick glance. There were people gathered in front of the fireplace, around an old armchair. The matron was bending over the person sitting in it, touching their neck, as if to check something. Before Minerva could notice more, however, Professor Dumbledore blocked her view. His face was pale, and he looked shaken.
"What is it?" asked the wizard distractedly.
"Professor," said Minerva, taking a step forward. "There's something important I need to tell you."
"There is one thing you should know, as well," stated Albus, covering his eyes with his hand. He took a moment before looking up. "Professor Binns has passed away. Could you please notify his classes that their lessons have been cancelled?"
Minerva's face whitened to match his. It turned out that her worst fear came true, after all. She took a deep, shaky breath. There was a message she had to deliver.
"That's why I'm here. You see, Professor Binns is teaching a class now."
"It's not funny, Miss," commented Professor Merrythought, giving the girl a disapproving look. "Haven't you heard what Professor Dumbledore's just said? It's impossible."
But Albus understood.
"I'd better go talk to him," the wizard decided, ignoring his colleague.
"I can go fetch Professor Binns," Minerva proposed immediately.
Professor Dumbledore shook his head.
"No, thank you," he stated firmly. The girl's offer might have sounded tempting, yet the teacher knew it was not her place to get involved. "I believe it would be better if Professor Binns heard the news from me. It's not everyday you learn that you've died."
Apparently, Professor Merrythought have caught up with the current situation, as she covered her half-open mouth with a trembling hand.
"After you." Professor Dumbledore put his arm on Minerva's shoulders and steered her through the exit. He had no intention of leaving her in one room with a dead body.
When he turned to bid the girl goodbye, he noticed her troubled, uneasy expression.
"I'm sorry you had to witness all this," said Albus, gesturing in the direction they came from. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she replied in a tone that would convince no one. "It's just that−"
She almost told him then, having bitten her tongue at the last moment. This was not the time, though. He had more important things to deal with right now.
"Never mind," Minerva went on under her teacher's expectant gaze. "I'll talk to you in two weeks, after you come back. It's noting urgent."
In the look she gave him before they went their separate ways, Albus found part of the message she didn't feel comfortable sharing. Her green eyes gazed at him with affection, but also fear and uncertainty. As if they were saying,
You'd better come back alive.