Disclaimer: Characters and ideas from the Harry Potter franchise are not my own.
Author's Note: This is a sequel to Not Alone (written 2012-2021), which itself is a sequel to Fallen Lioness (written 2006-2007) and The Closest Person to Him (written 2010-2021). Rated M for adult language and mature themes, which may include depictions of mental illness, mentions of sex (not graphic), etc. [I think I originally gave Not Alone and The Closest Person to Him a T rating, but considering the frequency with which I use my favorite four-letter words, I probably should've given them an M-rating from the get-go...]
Summary: After surviving a difficult school year, Minerva and Albus have learned that they are stronger together than apart. As they move forward, will they be able to keep their past ghosts behind them, or will they come back vengeful with new demons in tow?
Content Warning(s): Possible depictions of and/or references to mental illness, disordered eating, depression, suicide, pregnancy, and pregnancy loss.
Beyond the Fear
Ch. 1: Let Love In
Minerva McGonagall fiddled with a thin gold chain around her neck, upon which a new ring rested against her chest. Interspersed along the twisted golden band were alternating emeralds and sapphires, which accented a modest diamond. Never one to wear jewelry on her hands, she was pleased that her partner had the foresight to get an accompanying chain so that she could wear the engagement ring as a necklace. Not to mention, they still wished to keep their relationship discreet, and she could hide the telltale hardware under her robes.
"Albus, you always seem to look at your hand when I'm touching my ring, whether or not you're looking at me, as if you know that I'm thinking of you," she said.
"That's a feature, my dear," Albus Dumbledore said, joining her on the scarlet sofa in his sitting room. On his hands were several rings, and only someone intimately familiar with his extensive collection of jewelry might have noticed the addition to his ring finger—on the right hand, for plausible deniability that it had anything to do with a romantic partner. "Touch or lay your ring against your chest again."
Albus pressed two fingers upon his ring, which matched hers save for the diamond, and awaited her reaction.
"Is that you?" She felt a sudden warmth upon the skin in contact with her ring. The sensation disappeared when she saw her fiancé released his thumb and index finger.
"Yes, did you feel it?"
Minerva nodded. "Do you feel it when I touch mine?"
"When you touch it with your thumb and forefinger, yes. I added that enchantment myself." He placed his two fingers upon his ring again. "I wanted you to be able know when I was thinking of you, even when we're apart."
"How did you know I would like that?"
Albus gazed gently into her eyes before answering. "Because I know that sometimes you have trouble believing that I care in times when you need to know most, but I'm not there to show you."
Minerva resumed softly stroking her ring, which she thought might turn into an absentminded habit. "I suppose it would be annoying if I do this too often."
"Nonsense, my love. Now, if I had been less careful with the enchantment, then I suppose the ring might get too warm with prolonged contact. However, I thought our 'burning love' for each other should be only figurative, not literal."
"How very considerate of you. Thank you for being careful enough not to scald my skin, dear."
"I would never be so foolish," Albus said. "Mostly because I love you and can't bear to see you hurt. Partly because a certain friend of yours threatened to replace my sherbet lemons with Snargaluff pods if I ever hurt you. I assume she meant emotional hurt, but I don't think she'd let it slide if I gave you a scorching engagement ring."
"Oh? Snargaluff pods? She told me that she'd have you trapped by Devil's Snare."
"The Snargaluff pods may have been a backup plan. She did stop short of threatening me with Venemous Tentacula, though."
"Good. I can't have two husbands die by Venemous Tentacula. Just imagine the rumors that would swirl: 'Minerva McGonagall serially seduces her supervisors, only to prompt their perishing by plant poisoning.'"
Albus was slightly taken aback by his fiancée's casual impertinence. "Should you be so flippant about your late husband, Minerva?"
"No, I shouldn't, but I believe you've called it a 'coping mechanism': my tendency to treat serious events in my life far too lightly after the fact. Can't have people know that I'm affected by emotions, you know." She sighed. "Sometimes I feel guilty that I married Elphinstone in the first place. You're the first person I've fallen in love with since Dougal. Mind you, I didn't know I was in love with you until after I became a widow."
"What? You weren't in love with Mr. Urquart? Then why did you marry him?"
"No, I wasn't, not really. That's why I feel guilty. I liked him, don't get me wrong, and I enjoyed his company. But I wasn't exactly attracted to him, to be perfectly honest. We were much more like platonic friends than spouses. This will sound terrible, but once Dougal died, I decided that perhaps I ought to settle down finally, and Elphinstone was… convenient. I don't think we were unhappy, but I knew that he felt more for me than I did for him. He knew it, too; for one, I insisted upon separate beds almost from the start.
"I—I certainly felt bad about it sometimes while we were together. He wanted so much more than I was willing to give, and somehow, he just accepted that. He wanted children, and I never gave him one. Perhaps that was for the best, considering he died so suddenly after we married. Despite everything, he said he was happy just to be with me, that my nieces and nephews were plenty to enjoy." Minerva uttered a wry laugh. "Is it wrong of me to be feel sadder about seeing my brother and his family less often since I left our cottage in Hogsmeade than I do about losing my husband? Don't allow me the excuse that it's been three years since he passed away."
Talking about their exes wasn't exactly what Albus had in mind for their first weekend as an engaged couple, but he supposed it was something they would have needed to discuss sooner rather than later—definitely before they married. He wasn't sure if he should feel distressed that she confessed to marrying someone she didn't love. Did Elphinstone Urquart know that Minerva wasn't in love with him, or had he convinced himself that she was, just… less than he was with her? Albus felt certain that Minerva was in love with him as much as he was with her, but this conversation planted a tiny seed of worry in his head.
In any case, he couldn't judge Minerva for her past relationship choices when his first love led him to his life's greatest regret, and still he somehow harbored feelings for the man decades later, even after he'd begun to execute his terrible plans. No, Albus couldn't judge her when she hadn't judged him.
"Right or wrong, it's how you feel," he said sincerely.
Minerva stared silently at her fiancé for a moment, her lips parted slightly. She recognized his words as her own.
"Albus… that's what I said to you when you confessed to me that you still had feelings for Grindelwald all those years ago."
"I didn't realize it at the time, but in retrospect, I think that's when I started to fall in love with you."
"What?"
"When I told you what I'd done and how I felt, and you still respected me."
"I—of course, I did. Ultimately, you did do the right thing and defeated him. You dueled your first love. I don't know if I'd have had that courage if Dougal turned out to be evil, and for some reason, I was the only one who could stop him."
"Does it ever bother you?"
"Does 'what' ever bother me?"
"That I was in love with a man."
"Of the things that could bother me about your past relationship with Grindelwald, his being male is not one of them. He was one of the darkest wizards of the century, Albus; I care little about what was under his robes."
"I suppose you would be too sensible to worry about that."
"It's not that I never worried about your sexuality. The thought that you might be exclusively attracted to men certainly dissuaded me from admitting my attraction to you sooner."
"Well, I had my own regrets about not acting sooner. Mr. Urquart swept you up almost immediately after the passing of Mr. McGregor."
"You make it sound like he waited for Dougal to die so that he could have me. No, he asked countless times; I just wouldn't accept as long as I had the distant dream of dating Dougal again. Besides, would you really have asked me? I dropped the chance in your lap, and you cast me aside, if you recall."
"I know. I'm sorry, Min. You're the first person I've allowed myself to fall in love with since Gellert, and I am sorry that it took your nearly dying for me to let your love in. I'm sorry that I let my fear and ego get in the way of letting myself love you."
Minerva scrunched up her face in confusion. "What is this about your ego? You told me about your fear, I think, that I'd be in danger should You-Know-Who return."
"I'm not sure they can be separated in this case. I assumed I'd be targeted by Voldemort—"
"—reasonably so—"
"—and that distancing myself was the only way to protect you. I decided you'd be better off believing I didn't return your feelings. I decided this for you without consulting you, when you are more than capable of holding your own in war—"
"—although I certainly wouldn't complain if you offered protection—"
"—and it wasn't my place to assume that matters of the heart would diminish your strength. Or perhaps I was projecting my problems on you—I thought being in love again might cloud my mind and diminish my strength. In the weeks following your requesting a romantic relationship, I often argued with Armando Dippet. He told me I was being foolish, but I didn't—wouldn't—listen."
"Albus, we're smarter and stronger together."
"I know. I know. Even though the way I feel about you is so different to the way I felt about Gellert, I couldn't stop thinking about how blinded I was by my emotions when I was with him. I convinced myself that I'd cause something horrible if I let myself feel all that I do for you, just like I did when I lost my sister. I deserved worse than the broken nose Aberforth gave me. Perhaps it's ironic that my attempt to suppress my feelings for you—under the flawed rationale of protecting you—caused me nearly to lose you, rather than keep you safe."
"It's not your fault," Minerva said, dropping her gaze to her lap. "I told you I would've gotten there one way or another, one day or another."
"Well, I definitely didn't help your case."
"Albus, can we resolve to communicate as much as possible? No more hiding shit from each other based on how we assume things will be if we're honest? I'm just as guilty as keeping things inside when I shouldn't, but I am trying my best to be more open."
"I know you're trying, dear. I'll do my best, too."
"Starting now?"
"Starting now."
"Do you know what I'm going to ask you about?"
"No, but I get the feeling that it's something I've avoided discussing with you."
Minerva nodded. "I need to know what scares you, Albus. What do you know about—or at least, what do you suspect—that the rest of us don't about You-Know-Who?" She held up a hand to indicate that she still had more to say. "I'm serious, Albus. You don't think he's really gone, and if he's not, then you're right that we'd be going into another war together. So, tell me, what do you know about—about Voldemort?"
It took most of the afternoon, but Minerva felt satisfied that Albus told her everything. She wasn't satisfied about what he told her, but now she better understood why he was always reluctant to talk about his suspicions. Now, she understood why he feared war would resume; he just didn't know when. They agreed to to keep their relationship under wraps except for a select few; ideally, they could maintain the secret until they were confident that the threat of Voldemort had passed.
"I am relieved that you understand why I think we should continue to keep us a secret. It's never been because of shame or doubt. If only it were safe to announce to the world that we are engaged because I would gladly show you off, my dear. Hell, as much as I would hate the press coverage, I'd be absolutely tickled by how you might tell them off." Albus sobered. "I imagine that you didn't want a large wedding anyway, but this is going to have to be a very small ceremony."
"That is more than fine with me. You know I don't like the fanfare," Minerva said. "I assume we're planning to be magically bound by marriage, though not 'officially' according to the government, at least for now. Marriage records at the Ministry are technically public, aren't they?"
Albus nodded. "Is that all right with you?"
"Yes. I'm not particularly fussed about any of the civil benefits we could reap from registering our union. The only thing I could possibly think of that married couples gain automatically is the right to each other's medical information—and decision-making, in times of incapacitation—which we already legally drew up for each other when I became Deputy Headmistress."
A power I've already used, he thought somberly, recalling the night Madam Pomfrey asked him to authorize her putting Minerva into a magically induced coma while she saved her life.
"My thoughts exactly, dear," Albus said, shaking himself from the memory. "I believe we already know someone trustworthy who can perform the ceremony."
"Do we? Who?"
"Filius Flitwick."
Minerva raised her eyebrows. "I didn't know Filius had gone through magical matrimonial training."
"He has. As you once said to me, he doesn't call himself 'Festive Filius' for nothing. What's more festive than a wedding?"
"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, then." She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Will everyone in attendance be sworn to secrecy, Albus? I don't mean that in the casual sense. Will we require some sort of binding pact?"
"We can. I don't think that's a bad idea. Surely, the few people we are willing to invite would agree."
"Good. I trust Filius—and our close friends and family—but I do worry that his lips may be loose when he's sufficiently liquored up." Minerva looked down at her lap again. "I know I'm not one to talk."
Albus pulled her closer and rested his head on hers, which she laid on his shoulder. "It was one time. You and Filius were both off your heads; as far as I know, he doesn't remember what you said, either."
"Should he know if we're asking him to lead the wedding?"
"Well, he will obviously have to know the part where you admitted we're a couple. We don't necessarily need to recount the other things you confessed to him, but I suppose it's possible that revealing we're together will jog his memory of that night."
"I still can't believe I drunkenly dumped my trauma on him. At least this time, we'll both be sober—and you'll be with me, right?"
"Of course. I know how hard it is for you to talk about your suicide attempt, if we must tell him."
Minerva snuggled even closer, wrapping her arms around her fiancé's waist. It had only been scarcely more than seven-and-a-half months ago, but sometimes, it seemed like a lifetime had passed. That she'd gone from being relieved of all her duties to gradually regaining them over the course of the remaining school year—actually, she'd finally resume a full teaching load at the start of the new school year—was a journey that felt long and arduous. In that time, she grew stronger, mentally and physically, and learned to ask for help and rely on her friends when needed. This was in stark contrast to the Minerva McGonagall of yesteryear, who'd insist that she was 'perfectly fine, thank you,' even when she wasn't, who would isolate herself rather than appear 'weak' in front of others, including her closest friends (who were now closer to her than ever).
"Will it wake you up when you're asleep?" she asked.
"What?"
"Your ring."
"I'm not sure, to be honest, but that would be practical for emergencies, wouldn't it—if we're apart at night for whatever reason. Is that what you were thinking?"
"Yes. I mean, this wouldn't have prevented my potions poisoning, but it might have helped me stay put when I woke up alone and horribly hungover in the Hospital Wing. I hate to bring this up when I've been doing well, but I—I don't know the long-term outlook for my mental health. If our rings could play a role in helping me keep myself safe, then perhaps your added enchantment has far more use than you might have initially imagined."
"Then, let's agree upon an 'emergency signal,'" Albus said. "What about, three firm touches in quick succession? You can try it the next time I'm asleep before you, and I'll do the same. I am sure I can modify the enchantment if needed."
"Okay," Minerva said. "Thank you, Albus. This—these rings are thoughtful in numerous ways."
"I tried."
"You succeeded. I'm glad you got a ring for yourself, too. I'm not simply engaged to you; you are also engaged to me." She smiled. "I love you."
"As I love you." They lifted and turned their heads for a brief kiss. "Shall we discuss other practicalities of our impending wedding?"
"Yes. It's appropriate that you chose emeralds and sapphires, too—I was thinking we'd wear Black Watch tartan—blue and green. The McGonagalls don't have a family tartan."
"You'd like me to wear a kilt, wouldn't you?"
The Scottish witch grinned broadly. "Would you, please? We are marrying here at the castle, aren't we? Full Highland dress seems appropriate for the groom; we are in Scotland, after all."
"Minerva, my love, I am thrilled that you asked. Now, I am sure you'll have to help me do it correctly, but the idea of wearing the full ensemble sounds like an absolute delight. You know how I am about clothing. Do you think I'd reject the opportunity to wear a kilt and a fancy waistcoat and jacket and—what are those bags called?"
"It's called a sporran, dear," she said, chuckling at her fiancé's excitement.
"Then, I look forward to wearing a sporran and kilt hose and… Oh, dear, there are a lot of pieces. You might need to make a list for me, Min, so I don't forget anything."
"Would you like me to ask Malcolm where he purchased his wedding attire? Perhaps he can even go with you; I don't think he's readily recognized as 'Minerva McGonagall's' brother. In fact, I believe he went to the Muggle shops, so you might not even be recognized."
"That sounds prudent. Would your brother be willing to accompany me for this?"
"When I tell him we're engaged, yes."
Albus was suddenly a bit sheepish. "Do you suppose he'd be one of my groomsmen?"
"You don't have to ask my brother to be a groomsman, Albus. You can ask whomever you trust and want by your side."
"Well, I've already asked Aberforth to be my best man. That's what he meant when he said he'd be willing to 'visit' me at the castle this summer. Other than my brother, I'm not sure who to ask. I figured you would want Pomona, Rolanda, and Poppy to be your bridesmaids, so I ought to have three groomsmen, yes? Most of my closest friends are very old or very dead. I wouldn't dare ask to have Armando's portrait at the ceremony."
It dawned on Minerva that he was asking her permission to include her little brother in the wedding party. "Oh, Albus, if you want to ask Malcolm, then by all means, go ahead. I can't see him declining the opportunity to be a groomsman in his big sister's wedding. After all, Elphinstone didn't ask him—too many friends from the Ministry."
"This also helps us keep the ceremony small. I thought we might not have any guests, just our wedding party and Filius."
"Well, if both of our brothers will be groomsmen, then that sounds good to me. Considering our circumstances, I don't think Malcolm's wife will be offended if we ask that only Malcolm come without her and the children."
Albus brightened. "Wonderful. I'll think of a trustworthy friend to be my third; don't you worry."
"I'm not—unless you were thinking of asking Severus. That would be a firm no."
"Yes, I trust Severus, but no, I would not invite him to our wedding. I want to ask someone that you trust and like, too."
"Thank you. Now, speaking of Severus, we need to plan a venue in the castle or on the grounds where we are unlikely to be spotted by the few remaining Hogwarts inhabitants. Did you have somewhere in mind?"
"Well, I thought about the Transfiguration courtyard, but then I considered it might not be sufficiently private. So, then I thought, what room would meet our requirements? Ah, but of course—the Room of Requirement. Have you ever been there, Min?"
Minerva shook her head. "Where is it? What is it?"
"A peculiar room in the castle, accessible from the seventh floor only to those who have a need for it. I believe a private wedding between Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress counts as a suitable need."
"If it's hidden until it's needed, then will we be able to scope it out beforehand? I'd prefer to know what to expect before our wedding day…"
"Shall we check now?"
"Can we? I admit I'm very curious about this room, Albus," Minerva said. "Let me just button up the top of my robes again; it is unfortunate that I have to hide my ring."
"I know, dear. One day."
The pair exited the Headmaster Tower, and Albus led the way to the seventh-floor corridor. He paced in front of a tapestry thinking about what they needed.
Minerva and I need a private venue for our wedding—accessible only to us, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Rolanda Hooch, Poppy Pomfrey, Aberforth Dumbledore, Malcolm McGonagall, and... Alastor Moody—with space for us to hold the ceremony and separate spaces to get dressed.
An entrance suddenly appeared before them. Minerva's mouth dropped open in astonishment. She barely registered her fiancé's hand as he gently brought her through the door.
"Albus," Minerva gasped. "How—how does the castle know what we want?"
Emerald-green and sapphire-blue drapes lined two sides of the room. A ceremonial circle occupied the center of the room, the circumference punctuated by ornate torches in regular intervals. Within the circle was a small, round stage upon which the bride and groom would stand while their wedding party and Master of Ceremony surrounded them. On the back wall was a large mural of a silver tabby cat snuggled under the protective wing of a phoenix.
"It knows what we need." His twinkling blue eyes met her shining green, and she threw her arms around him. "What do you think, my love?"
"I think it's perfect."
Albus smiled. "Come. I suspect that these drapes hide a dressing area for each of us."
Indeed, he was right—beyond one set of curtains lay four wardrobes—one of which had a stone sculpture of a phoenix on each side. Presumably, that one was for Albus, but they were all empty for now, except for the full-length mirrors on the inside of the doors. The opposite side of the room held a similar scene, only for two statues of tabby cats instead of phoenixes around one wardrobe.
"How will we get everyone in here? I didn't even know it existed until now," Minerva asked.
"Once the room is created, I believe one of us will have to stay inside to secure its presence. Surely, we can enter with Filius, Pomona, Poppy, and Rolanda first, since they live here. Then, we will have to fetch our guests. Aberforth will walk over, but I expect your brother will Apparate to Hogsmeade. What say you about Alastor for my third groomsman? I can bring them all in under a Disillusionment Charm."
Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Alastor Moody? I like him. As far as trustworthy friends go, I am not sure you could choose better. Given his paranoia, I believe he'd approve of arriving under the cover of one of your Disillusionment Charms. Do you think you'll be able to get him into formal clothing, though?"
Albus laughed. "Min, if I can convince Aberforth to dress up for the occasion, then I think Alastor will, too. Now, I don't know that my groomsmen would wear the traditional Scottish attire—well, except for your brother. Will wizarding dress robes be okay?"
"Yes, that's what I envisioned, anyway. I think just you and I will wear tartan, and the others will wear blue or green dress robes." She turned and took both her partner's hands in hers. "I could kiss you right now, but I think we should save it—at least in this venue—for the wedding."
"I agree. Shall we go, then?"
"Let's."
They left the Room of Requirement, and once they were in the corridor, all traces of a door disappeared. As they ascended the spiraling staircase to Albus's office, he said, "We've about an hour until dinner. What would you like to do?"
"What would I like to do?" Minerva repeated. She pretended to think as they passed through the circular office to the headmaster's private quarters. Once they were safely inside, she pulled his face toward hers. "This."
"I like 'this' a lot."
When their lips separated, the younger witch replied, "I know what you like better."
Albus felt his heart rate accelerate. "Minerva, it's the middle of the afternoon."
"Yes, and we have no essays to mark or students to oversee. We've got time, dear." She smiled coyly and offered her hand.
The older wizard had no complaints as his fiancée dragged him to the bedroom. He could only articulate a single comment:
"I love summer."
Author's Note: Thank you for reading the first chapter in my new story! I wasn't planning to post this so soon after finishing Not Alone, but I got in a mood and decided to get this started. My outline for the story has 25 chapters, which may or may not be how it actually turns out. I hope to be able to update this story approximately weekly, as I had been doing with Not Alone since I finally revisited it this past summer.
Regarding notes specific to this chapter, I have no actual knowledge of formal Scottish dress. Everything I 'know' and have thus far included is from the wonders of Google searches.