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all these pieces I can't figure out
walking on cars 'at gunpoint'

Like everybody else who was currently assembled in the Great Hall, Minerva McGonagall held her breath – an uneasy feeling tugging somewhere in her stomach – until Albus finally cleared his throat and read the fourth name that had come out of the Goblet of Fire.

"Harry Potter," was all he said, and his blue eyes searched the room for the boy in question.

Minerva felt her heart skip a beat. This was far worse than she had imagined. Without wasting another second, she got up from her position at the top table and swept past Ludo Bagman and Igor Karkaroff towards the Headmaster, her fancy dark robes blowing behind her.

"This can't be happening, Albus," she whispered urgently into his ear, her usually vibrant emerald eyes clouded with fear for her young cub. "We need to find out who is behind this."

Albus only straightened up and nodded shortly before Harry had finally finished his long walk towards the teachers' table. The poor boy looked utterly terrified, though Minerva couldn't blame him. Without another word, she made sure that her colleagues would take care of the remaining students, before she followed the others through the small door next to the teacher's table.

She wasn't quite sure what was happening, so she decided to remain silent and follow the vivid discussion. That is, until her Scottish temper got the better of her and she glared at Madame Maxime angrily.

"Nonsense," she interrupted, stepped forward and put a protective hand on Harry's shoulder. "Potter is too young to be able to cross the age line and if Albus believes him when he says he didn't ask an older student to help him, then surely this should be good enough for everybody else!"

She then turned to look at Albus, hoping for at least some kind of support and that he would put an end to this ridiculous conversation, but he kept silent and engaged into another discussion about the Goblet of Fire and its rules. He ignored her throughout the entire conversation – right down to the moment when it was agreed upon that Harry Potter had no choice but to take part in the Triwizard Tournament, which made her bristle with anger. She had protested vividly, but either had he cut her comments short or sided with Crouch.

Eventually, Madame Maxime put an arm around her champion and lead her out of the room, followed by Karkaroff and Krum. She sent Harry one last sympathetic glance, before her cub, too, made his way back to Gryffindor Tower with Diggory right behind him.

When the door finally shut soundly behind Bagman, Crouch and Alastor, Minerva balled her hands into fists and turned around furiously – emerald eyes blazing dangerously at her husband of more than thirty years.

"You cannot really consider letting Harry compete in this Tournament, Albus!"

Sighing deeply, Albus turned around to finally look at her. "You heard what Barty said. The contract is binding."

Minerva's heart raced, and she threw her hands up in the air. "The devil with Barty and his rules. And since when do you accommodate the Ministry?"

Albus' blue eyes hardened. "I don't like this any more than you do, Minerva."

"Then put an end to this nonsense! You said it yourself that Potter's got nothing to do with this," she argued loudly. "No doubt, Harry is a talented boy, but the magic required in order to succeed in this tournament is way beyond the skills of a fourth-year student."

Albus started pacing back and forth. "There is nothing I can do."

Minerva snorted and raised an eyebrow.

"Can't or won't?" she challenged him, and her anger only bubbled up further when he avoided her eyes once more. "Don't you care about Harry at all?"

This, at least, got him to turn around and look at her. "I do care, Minerva. You of all people should know," he said, and her husband's usually kind and twinkling blue eyes stared at her coldly. "But it's been decided. Harry is a strong boy – "

"Indeed, a boy, and nothing more," Minerva hissed, but Albus continued as if he hadn't heard her.

"Harry has shown many times how brave he is. He'll be alright."

The witch could not believe what she was hearing. Her emerald eyed blazed with fury, her hands were balled into fists and for a moment, all she could do was stare at him, at a complete loss of words.

"Don't you think the boy has been through enough already?" she asked bitterly before she sharply turned on her heels and without another glance back, dashed through the doors – slamming them shut behind her.

Later that night, Minerva – dressed in a silky black nightgown – was curled up in their king-sized bed with some of her first-year transfiguration essays in hand, when she heard the bookshelf to their private quarters open and her husband's footsteps approaching.

"Unless you are here to tell me that you have changed you mind about Harry, you won't be spending the night here," she stated coldly, without looking up from her page. She had managed to calm her temper after talking a late-night walk down at the black lake, but she was still not entirely over the way he had spoken with her earlier. She was tired and exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to finish grading her papers, curl up in bed underneath her fluffy blanket and get some sleep.

She heard him sigh as he stepped closer into their bedroom. "Can we talk, Min?"

"I don't think there is anything left to talk about, Albus," she shot back, and crossed out a rather confusing sentence in one of her essays with a lot more force then necessary.

Minerva felt the edge of the bed move as Albus sat down on top of the covers – a respectable distance between them.

"Please."

The way he whispered that one word made her look at him, and she couldn't help but sigh when she stared into his sad, blue eyes.

"I need you."

Unconsciously, Minerva's hand moved towards her chest, where her small golden wedding band dangled from a delicate chain around her neck.

"And Harry needs you, too," her husband added quietly and moved a little closer towards her.

For once, Minerva didn't know what to say, and for a moment, the couple just sat in their dimly lit bedroom in silence.

"Whoever threw his name into the Goblet of Fire clearly wanted Harry to compete," Minerva eventually broke the silence, and she stared at her husband with worried emerald eyes.

Albus only nodded, which irritated her even more.

"I know."

"Then why in Merlin's name didn't you do anything about it?" she questioned, now utterly flummoxed, and finally put her essays and quill down on the nightstand next to the bed.

Blue eyes looked at her determinedly. "Because we need to find out who is behind this. You said it yourself."

Minerva opened her mouth to ask yet another question, but Albus interrupted her by taking her delicate hand in his own.

"I could have fought Barty, you are right," he admitted. "But then, whoever is behind this would just come up with yet another hideous plan, that might put Harry in even more danger than he is in now."

Minerva couldn't help but give a bitter laugh.

"The Triwizard Tournament is hardly child's play, Albus."

"I know it's dangerous, Minerva. But it's the only way," Albus whispered, squeezed her hand, and glanced at her with troubled, but honest blue eyes. "That's why I need you, Tabby. We have to keep an eye out for the boy and figure out who is after him."

Minerva sighed. She hated fighting with him. And no matter how much she tried, she couldn't come up with another idea to catch the person that put Harry's name into the goblet. Of course, she still wasn't happy about the way things had turned out, but having heard his reasoning, she agreed with the fact that it was most important to protect Harry now. And having been married to the man for more than three decades, she knew just by looking into his eyes when he was speaking the truth.

Eventually, she only nodded, pulled back the covers, and flipped her legs over the edge of the bed so that she would sit right next to him. Then, she laid her head down on his shoulder and cuddled closer against him. In return, Albus put one of his strong arms around her before he cupped her cheek with his other hand and kissed her softly.

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Words: 1450

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