Minerva McGonagall and the Chamber of Secrets

by MinnieCat5

1942- In the middle of the war against Grindelwald, Hogwarts was a refuge. Minerva McGonagall entered her 6th year ready to make more memories with her friends, expand her prowess in Transfiguration, and even fall in love, hoping it all would distract her from thoughts of her family fighting on the front lines. A shocking attack on Halloween night, though, changed all that...

14. Adulthood

Womanhood

Sunday, 24 January 1943

Minerva dodged to the right. She ducked. As she ducked, she fired off a spell. She missed. She cried out in frustration and jumped to her full height, firing again. Her spell landed, but not before her target's final spell grazed her neck, stinging her. Minerva didn't have time to worry about the minor spell – her opponents would not hit her with anything truly dangerous – as a new opponent sprang up on the other side of the room with as much intensity as the last. This, to Minerva, is what it meant to be an of-age witch in the current climate. Her family had rightly pointed out that for all she wanted to help, she was woefully unprepared to fight. Practicing was the only thing Minerva knew she could do. Thankfully, the secret room her friends shared was able to provide her with a proper challenge. The room knew exactly what she needed, at what level, to help her become who she wanted to be.

Each time Minerva defeated one of her opponents – with a nonverbal Stupefy, Petrificus Totalus, Impedimenta, Flipendo, Incarcerus, Confringo – another one sprang up in its place. The room continued challenging her, increasing the difficulty each time she faced a new opponent. The room did not allow her to wane in tiredness. That was precisely what Minerva wanted, what she needed. If she hoped to fight in the Resistance, she would do more than duel one opponent at a time. There would be someone to take her last opponent's place each time she felled one.

To her frustration, she was still getting hit every now and then. As a Seeker, she was quick, but dueling was different. When she dodged one spell, another would follow in quick succession in her new location. The room was providing her with opponents that were predicting where she would move. Minerva gritted her teeth as she stared down the wooden dummy that had just blasted her in the side. Just because this was what she needed didn't mean that the dummies weren't pissing her off. She set it on fire, which, she admitted, wasn't necessarily fair. She would not be comfortable using such a spell on a human being.

Minerva paused as she watched the dummy burn, her chest heaving with exhaustion. She needed a break. Just as the thought crossed her mind, the practice room melted away, the flaming dummy disappearing. A cozy sitting room took its place, with a jug of water sitting on the table. Minerva gratefully poured herself a glass. She longed for food, but she had learned that this room was limited by Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration, and, as such, would not produce a snack for her. She would need to go down to the kitchens for food, or wait until dinner. Minerva did not want to wait until dinner.

After taking a few minutes to wash the sweat from training away in the shower the room provided for her, Minerva made her way down from the seventh floor towards the basement kitchen. She smiled at the students she passed, her back straight and tall, her Prefect badge gleaming proudly on her chest. She acknowledged by name the students she recognized from her tutoring sessions, who greeted her warmly in turn. As she stepped onto a set of moving stairs from the second floor to the first floor, Dumbledore emerged from the hallway and stepped onto the same staircase. Minerva gave her favorite professor a friendly smile, which Dumbledore returned as they closed the distance between each other, leaving two steps between them.

"Good afternoon, Professor Dumbledore."

"Good afternoon, Miss McGonagall. Are you enjoying your weekend?"

"I've been busy, sir," she replied, smiling in a way that suggested he was responsible.

Dumbledore laughed, "Well, I hope you have been able to enjoy some free time in the midst of all the work your professors have beleaguered you with."

Minerva grinned.

"What's…?" Dumbledore began, peering at something that seemed to be along her jawline. His eyes darted up to meet hers, and he looked alarmed. Minerva's hand darted quickly up to her jaw. The skin was much smoother there, like a burn. The color drained from Minerva's face as the fear that he would stop her from training pierced through her.

"Miss McGonagall," Dumbledore spoke quietly, "dueling without supervision is prohibited…"

"I haven't been dueling," Minerva said quickly.

He gave her a skeptical look, and then implored her, "I do not wish to have to punish you, Miss McGonagall, so please do not make it worse –"

"I haven't been dueling," Minerva maintained firmly.

Dumbledore closed his mouth. His blue eyes were devoid of their normal twinkle as gave her a penetrating stare. Minerva searched his eyes, her heart beating wildly as she frantically tried to think of a way out of this situation. She wondered if he was a Legilimens, and if he was looking into her mind right now to discern the truth. The thought of that both scared and disquieted her. She couldn't help but think that she would feel a little betrayed if he looked into her mind that way.

"Then where did that mark come from?" he asked quietly, gravely.

Minerva pursed her lips. She took a deep breath and replied just as quietly, "I was practicing. Alone."

"Did you hex yourself, then?" he asked dubiously. Minerva felt calmed to hear a twinge of humor in his tone.

"No, professor…I…I had opponents, but they weren't…well, they weren't people. Or alive."

Dumbledore stared at her, evidently at a loss for words. Then: "Show me."

Minerva sucked in a breath. She'd feared this. That room was her friends' secret. Rolanda had asked permission before bringing Richard there, and…well, she'd asked permission to bring Oliver there, though she hadn't yet. Showing Dumbledore could jeopardize everything. It might make it harder for Rolanda and Richard to carry on the way they had been, if the professors all knew about the room. It might make it hard for Minerva to have the first time she'd envisioned.

But Dumbledore was in a position of authority over her. She could not refuse him. Well, she could, but there would be consequences. She mulled over what those consequences might be. He wouldn't expel her, certainly. He may revoke her position as a Prefect. He may…Minerva's heartrate rose in panic again as she thought that he may not trust her enough to make her his apprentice, which she so desperately wanted. Minerva could hear in her mind Rolanda's voice chastising her for throwing away her hopes and dreams for the future to preserve a room. A room that was, granted, important to them, their friendship, and the way they had lived their lives at Hogwarts for the past six years, but a room nonetheless. Ultimately, people made memories and built relationships, and people could move to different places. Minerva closed her eyes in defeat and turned back around, confident that her friends would understand despite the sinking feeling in her heart.

As she led Dumbledore up the stairs silently, her stomach grumbled.

"Are you hungry, Miss McGonagall?"

Minerva nodded, tugging at the pendant around her neck.

Dumbledore rustled around the pockets of his robes. He pulled out a few scraps of parchment before producing a familiar blue box. "I never finish these, anyway. And no, it's not because they hop away. I haven't let one get away from me since I was a student." He offered her the chocolate frog box. She eyed it apprehensively. He smiled at her reassuringly, "Not to worry. I slice off the pieces as I eat them."

Minerva hesitantly took the box. The friendliness in his demeanor was surely meant to calm the anxiety that she was surely visibly expressing, but her stomach was too tied in knots to feel charitable enough towards him to be comforted by this. Still, she was hungry, and so she opened the box and bit into the half of the frog that was left. The card was gone.

They again walked in silence as Minerva ate the chocolate frog and led him all the way to the seventh floor. When she stopped with her back to the tapestry of clumsily dancing trolls in ballet slippers, the frog long gone, she took a deep, shuddering breath. This was it. Dumbledore waited patiently, curiously beside her. She clenched her fists and finally looked at him again, "Stay there."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, but gave no other indication that he would abide by this command.

Minerva began to pace, asking the room to ready her training room again. She asked for it to not start attacking when she entered, but to allow her to show Dumbledore what it looked like, and what one of the training dummies was like. On her third turn in front of the bare wall, the door appeared, and, without a second glance in Dumbledore's direction, she approached the door and opened it. She held the door out for him, indicating he was to follow.

As Dumbledore stepped into the room and took in what he was seeing, Minerva folded her hands in front of her and waited patiently for his judgement. She nervously glanced to the side to gauge his expression. He looked amazed. Minerva felt both proud and disappointed to have confirmation that he hadn't already known about this part of the castle. She was proud that she was able to show her professor something about the place he'd lived in for decades that he did not already know, but disappointed that this confirmed that the professors had not already been aware of it, and would likely monitor it now.

Suddenly, a chair appeared in front of Dumbledore, very much like the purple chair that he had behind his desk in his office. He laughed delightedly, and took a seat. A chair appeared across from him, and he gestured for her to sit. Minerva sat stiffly.

"So, this is the Room of Requirement," Dumbledore remarked with wonder in his voice.

Minerva blinked, "It has a name? You've heard of it?"

"Oh yes," he replied. "It's an old Hogwarts legend. The house-elves talk about it. The Come and Go Room, the Room of Requirement…they say it's been here since the castle's founding. The story goes that it was a sanctuary to Rowena Ravenclaw, a place she could stay for days that would shift to be whatever room she required: a cozy office space, a luxurious bedroom, a reading room…I wonder…" Dumbledore glanced off to the side, as if concentrating. Nothing appeared, however, and he hummed thoughtfully, "Yet it does not provide food. So, it follows Gamp's Laws. Well, I suppose Ravenclaw might have had house-elves bring her meals."

Minerva still sat anxiously. His wonder and curiosity might have been interesting if she weren't so afraid of what he would do with her involvement with this room.

"How did you come across it?" Dumbledore asked.

Minerva shifted uncomfortably. "In my first year…Rolanda, Poppy, Pomona, and I, we…we liked to come up to the seventh floor on days when the weather was bad. People didn't usually bother us up here. One day, Malfoy…well, he did bother us. He said something nasty about my family, and about Rolanda's friendship with me, and topped it off with a comment about Pomona's birth. I got angry, and paced right where you just saw me pacing. I ranted about wishing there was a place we could escape them all, all of the house rivalries that ought to have driven us apart…and the door appeared."

Dumbledore eyed her consideringly, "And you're afraid that I'm going to take that place away from you."

Minerva pursed her lips at him, meeting his gaze evenly, but said nothing.

Dumbledore sighed and looked away. His eyes trailed to the practice dummy awaiting command. "It looks as though your use for the Room has evolved."

Still, Minerva said nothing.

He turned back to her, and that piercing blue gaze hit her again. "You want to fight in the Resistance."

"Of course I do," Minerva replied immediately, quietly.

He inclined his head, "I understand. You are young –"

"I am of-age."

"– yet you are of-age," he finished, agreeing. He paused. "Do you not feel as though Professor Merrythought is properly preparing you?"

"She teaches many helpful things," Minerva allowed. "But I think I need more practice to be ready to fight Grindelwald's supporters."

Dumbledore nodded. He sighed. "You're right, unfortunately. The amount of practice a person needs to truly be ready could not be covered in the span of a course."

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, Dumbledore with a thoughtful expression and Minerva with a slightly defiant one.

Eventually, Dumbledore asked, "This is what you want?"

Minerva blinked. "Sir?"

"To fight. To spend your days worrying about the war, and to one day risk your life fighting in it."

Minerva straightened her back, "I already worry about the war, professor. My family already risks their lives. If I join them once I graduate…at least I can be comforted that I did what I could to help should anything happen to them."

"There is nothing glorious –"

"With all due respect, sir, you insult me by suggesting that I want to fight for recognition," Minerva interjected, heat rising in her cheeks. Dumbledore snapped his mouth shut, surprised. "I have no romanticized notions about what it means to fight. Like I said, I worry." She swallowed hard. "I'm afraid."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, surveying her. Quietly, he said, "It takes true bravery to acknowledge when one is afraid. I was older than you when I finally learned that lesson."

They sat quietly across from each other again, neither certain of what they wanted to say to the other. Minerva spoke next: "This Christmas, I wanted to join my family when they fought in France, and then in Yorkshire. I am an adult, after all. I thought that meant I should be able to make the choice. They told me I couldn't, though, because I'm not trained. I would be a liability. Of course, they were right. Perhaps I'm not truly an adult until I can fend for myself. I need to train, so that I can prove to my family that I won't be a liability should I join them."

Dumbledore tented his fingers and eyed her appraisingly over them. Minerva resisted the urge to squirm under his scrutiny. "It is unsafe for you to train without supervision. I cannot stand aside and knowingly allow you to continue what you've been doing here."

Minerva's nostrils flared angrily, but she said nothing.

"In return for your promise to not use this room for these activities…I will allow you and your friends to continue to use this as your sanctuary. I extend this trust to you, and vow that I won't alert the other professors to its location."

Minerva sat up straighter, hope fluttering in her heart. This room held a great deal of significance in her heart, and she was desperate to hold onto that meaning.

Dumbledore smiled, seeing that he'd pleased her. "I think that Ravenclaw would have wanted the Room's future users to find it on their own. She liked riddles, you know. If she wanted everyone to know about it, she wouldn't have kept it a secret."

Minerva couldn't help but smile at this, genuine relief flooding through her. She finally looked away from Dumbledore, feeling more relaxed. Her smile faded, though, as her eyes landed on the waiting dummy. Dumbledore watched this change in expression closely.

"As for your training," Dumbledore said. Minerva turned back to him. "I will speak to Professor Merrythought about arranging private dueling lessons. Proper ones. And…" he looked around at the room, "if I find I have the time, I would be happy to supervise your practices in this room, if only to see what someone intimately familiar with the Room can make it do."

Minerva quirked an eyebrow at him mischievously, although her heart was bursting inside her chest, "Not to assess my usefulness to the Resistance?"

Dumbledore laughed.

---

Monday, 25 January 1943

"Alright, everyone, pair up! We'll be ending today's lesson with some dueling practice," Professor Merrythought announced. Her instructions were soon followed by the scraping of chairs as the sixth-year Defense Against the Dark Arts students hurried to follow her instructions with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Some of them continued on with Defense because they felt it was a necessity. Some of them loved dueling.

Minerva paired off against Rolanda. The girls grinned at each other as they waited for Merrythought to tell them to begin. They were among those who enjoyed the opportunity to duel. Merrythought moved through the rows of pairs, surveying who had paired up with whom. Minerva watched Merrythought shoo a pair of Hufflepuff girls apart who usually did not give dueling their all, instead putting them with a pair of Ravenclaw boys who were, in Minerva's opinion, average at dueling. She raised her eyebrows as Merrythought put Nathan Pomfrey with Donnie Longbottom, which left Poppy to duel Oliver. Poppy met Minerva's eyes across the room, and Minerva just smirked at her friend. Poppy laughed a little, which made Oliver look around. He grinned as he caught his girlfriend's eye.

Merrythought walked purposefully to the front of the room, surveyed them all for a moment longer, and then simply said, "Begin."

They knew the rules. Don't kill each other and don't utter a word. Nonverbal spells fired off across the room at Merrythought's command. Rolanda began with a shield, already anticipating that Minerva would jump in with an attack straightaway. The girls danced and dodged as they wordlessly launched spell after spell at each other, a shield thrown up here and there. Rolanda was a decent duelist, but she hadn't been practicing as much as Minerva had. She could not catch Minerva with a single spell, although Minerva had grazed her with several. Rolanda was beginning to grow frustrated, but Minerva was not tiring. With a grunt, Rolanda fired off a large, powerful-looking jet of blinding light. Minerva's eyes widened at the sight, and instinctively fell to Transfiguration, conjuring a metal shield to guard herself. The spell hit the shield with a loud clang, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the class and causing some students to fall prey to spells already midway through the air. Shortly after the clang, Minerva heard Rolanda grunt again. Beneath the shield, she saw her friend fall to the ground. Minerva quickly vanished the shield and rushed forward to check on her. Rolanda was rubbing her head and groaning, and her pale skin looked rather pink, but otherwise she seemed fine.

"Rolanda, are you alright?" Minerva asked.

Rolanda groaned in answer, blinking dazedly up at the ceiling.

Merrythought was suddenly by their side. "Reega!" she called.

With a pop, a house-elf appeared beside the diminutive Defense professor.

"Yes, Professor Merry?"

"Please bring Miss Robinson to the Hospital Wing," Merrythought ordered, not even blinking at what the house-elf had called her.

Reega bowed and grabbed Rolanda by the arm, popping away. Minerva stood and looked down at Merrythought, who simply raised her eyebrows at her student, "Well I'm certainly not going to interrupt your education just because she can't fight you." Merrythought drew her wand, "Retake your position, Miss McGonagall. I will duel you."

Minerva's eyes widened, but she gripped her wand tighter and backed up into her former position. She thought she saw a hint of a smile curving at her professor's lips. Perhaps she was imagining it. Her heart beat nervously, wondering if this was a test, if Dumbledore had spoken to her about private lessons and she was now assessing the need for this herself. Minerva clenched her jaw, determined. She was a Gryffindor. She was supposed to be good at dueling. She was supposed to be brave enough to face down anyone. For all she was a Gryffindor, though, Minerva was her mother's daughter, and Halina was a Ravenclaw. She could not help but be reminded that Galatea Merrythought had been a renowned duelist in her prime.

Merrythought seemed to be waiting for Minerva to fire first. The witches stared each other down for a few breaths before Minerva began with a simple, nonverbal Stupefy. The Defense professor, in complete contrast with how statuesque she'd seemed the second before Minerva cast her spell, moved quickly and gracefully in response. In the space of a single second, Merrythought created a shield for Minerva's spell, stepped aside for good measure, and fired off her own spell. As Minerva responded, she recognized the wisdom of what Merrythought had done; she could not have been absolutely certain of what spell Minerva had used, and it was safest to assume the shield charm would not hold, no matter how good a reflex it was to have to cast one. Minerva moved slowly as she considered the thought process behind her professor's actions, and was caught by a Confundus Charm. She blinked dazedly, and pushed through, focusing harder than she should have had to on casting a shield charm to protect herself as she recovered. Behind her shield she quickly countered the Confundus Charm, and refocused on Merrythought. While she knew she could learn a great deal watching her Defense professor duel, she could not spare any more thoughts to analyzing her behavior. She came at Merrythought with her full force, firing off spells in quick succession. To her great frustration, Merrythought blocked and dodged them all, even making a few rebound in Minerva's direction. She seemed comfortable being on the defensive. Minerva gritted her teeth in annoyance at the calm look on Merrythought's face; she seemed almost bored, actually.

Minerva cried out as she pushed an advanced disarming charm at her opponent. She grimaced in satisfaction as she watched Merrythought slide backwards about a foot as the force of Minerva's spell hit her shield. The tiniest look of surprise registered on Merrythought's face in the twitch of an eyebrow. Then, without warning, Merrythought suddenly went on the offensive. Minerva's eyes widened as she was forced on the defensive. She dodged Merrythought's first spell, and began a dance of dodging and blocking. Merrythought was a quicker spellcaster than Minerva, she noticed, and it was hard for Minerva to keep up. She was tiring, and to her great frustration, Merrythought still looked bored. She gritted her teeth and tried getting a spell of her own in, but nearly got hit in the process. She almost fell over in her attempt to hastily dodge that spell. Merrythought took advantage of her loss of balance, firing off a burst of spells at Minerva. One of them hit her, and she fell, her cry of surprise dying on her lips as the world went black around her.

Moments later, Minerva awoke to find Merrythought standing over her. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head. Merrythought offered her a hand, which Minerva took, and she helped her to her feet. Minerva finally paid attention to the room around them for the first time since their duel began, and realized that everyone was staring at them. She squared her shoulders and turned back to her professor. A smile curled at Merrythought's lips in response, and this time Minerva was sure it was there.

Merrythought turned to the classroom and announced, "I believe our time is up. For our next lesson, I want another twelve-inch analysis of your duel today. What went right, what went wrong, and, as always, a spell you could have used that you did not. You are dismissed."

Slowly, the sixth-year Defense Against the Dark Arts students collected their belongings and filed out of the classroom. A few of them glanced Minerva's way as they did so, but Minerva ignored them all. Oliver came up beside her, an expression of awe on his face, "I've never seen you duel like that."

Minerva shrugged dismissively, busying herself with her bag, "You haven't had much opportunity to."

"But where did you learn –"

"Just through a lot of practice," Minerva replied. Oliver blinked at her. She glanced in Merrythought's direction, who was now collecting the rolls of parchment she'd received at the start of class from her desk. Turning back to Oliver she said, "I'll catch up with you later."

Oliver glanced over at Merrythought as well, and then nodded, "Alright." Minerva gave him a tight smile, and then he turned to leave.

Minerva approached Merrythought's desk. The professor glanced up as she approached, her arms full of scrolls, and jerked her head in the direction of her connecting office, "Let's talk in there, shall we?"

Minerva obediently followed Merrythought into the next room, and waited as she levitated the scrolls onto an empty shelf higher than she was tall. Minerva looked around the office while she waited to be addressed. It was extremely organized. The shelf the scrolls were now in was part of a seven-level bookshelf; Minerva imagined that each level represented a year, if the fact that her class's scrolls had just gone into the second from the top shelf was anything to go by. On the opposite wall there was a proper bookshelf, stuffed with tomes. Between the bookshelves was Merrythought's desk, which was neat and free of clutter.

"Have a seat, Miss McGonagall," Merrythought said, pulling Minerva out of her observations.

Minerva took one of the chairs opposite the desk, and Merrythought took her place behind it. She folded her hands atop it and leaned towards Minerva as she spoke, "Professor Dumbledore pulled me aside after dinner last night to inform me that he discovered you've been practicing on your own. He tells me you have animated opponents for yourself, and have had them attacking you. He and I are in agreement that this should not continue. It is extremely unsafe." Merrythought paused, eyeing Minerva. The student twisted at her robes nervously, but that was the only thing that betrayed how she felt. Her expression was impassive. "Professor Dumbledore has asked me to give you private dueling lessons." Again, Merrythought paused. She looked Minerva squarely in the eye as she said, "I know he favors you. Hush, girl –" Minerva had opened her mouth at this, her cheeks flushing, "– of course professors should not play favorites, but we all do. Some more than others, but we all do. It is no secret that you are a favorite of Professor Dumbledore's."

Minerva's face was red, although a little nugget of pride wormed its way into her chest. "Professor, I – I didn't ask for special treatment –"

"And I'm not accusing you of asking. Regardless of what you have asked for, I have been asked to give you special treatment. It's true that I dueled you today to see for myself what value private lessons would have." Minerva averted her gaze, feeling embarrassed. The look of boredom on Merrythought's face as they dueled was burned into her mind. "I found that there is merit in Professor Dumbledore's request."

Minerva looked up, surprised. A small smile of amusement quirked at Merrythought's lips. "But, professor…you looked…bored, dueling me."

Merrythought actually laughed at that. "My dear girl, I do that on purpose. It usually has a very satisfying effect on my opponent. Opponents of all houses, but especially Gryffindors and Slytherins, get angry, or frustrated, or desperate to catch me off guard. That's where mistakes are made."

"So…you'll teach me?" Minerva asked hopefully.

Merrythought sat back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap, "I said the idea had merit. But I try my best to avoid favoring any students." Minerva's heart sank. "That is why I will form an advanced dueling club, for N.E.W.T.-level students who are interested in joining the Auror Academy or the Resistance following graduation."

Almost as soon as disappointment settled into Minerva's heart, she was filled with joy as she realized she would still have the opportunity to practice. She beamed at Merrythought and said, "Thank you, Professor! Thank you!"

Merrythought gave her a small smile, "I will post notices in the common rooms with the information about when it will be held." They both stood, and Merrythought asked, "Was there anything else you wished to discuss with me?"

Minerva shook her head, "No, that was all, Professor. Thank you, again."

Merrythought inclined her head, and Minerva turned to leave. It took all of her self-control to walk normally out the door despite her excitement. She rode her high all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady guarding Gryffindor Tower. Defense Against the Dark Arts was her last class of the day, and so she had some free time before dinner. Right as she was about to give the Fat Lady the password, her smile faded. The way she'd brushed Oliver aside after class came back to her, and she felt slightly guilty for speaking to him that way. She wasn't eager to face him again after that, but she knew she needed to apologize. Minerva sighed, her good mood diminished, and said, "Serpens delenda est."

Minerva stepped through the portrait hole as it opened and looked around. She found Oliver in the first place she'd guessed he'd be, sitting at one corner of the couch in front of the fire. Donnie Longbottom sat in the chair adjacent to him. Minerva's lip curled as she recognized Nicholas Pomfrey sitting on the couch in the corner opposite from Oliver. Prewett sat in the chair adjacent to Nicholas. Eyeing Nicholas, Minerva suddenly felt less inclined to join her boyfriend and apologize to him. Oliver, though, looked up at her, perhaps sensing her gaze, and raised his hand in acknowledgement. He gave her a small, thin-lipped smile, which Minerva returned. She tugged on the strap of her shoulder bag, attempting to communicate that she wanted to discard it, and started making her way towards the stairs to the girls' dormitories. She was slightly disappointed that he didn't follow her.

The group of sixth- and seventh-year Gryffindor boys was still seated together when she returned to the common room, to her dismay. She hovered near the bottom of her staircase for a moment, wondering what to do, before deciding that she was going to be a Gryffindor about the situation and take a seat next to her boyfriend.

"…and, well, after last season, I'm not too confident in the Wasps, as much as it pains me to say so," Nicholas was saying.

Prewett smirked at him, "You mean after the Tornadoes flew circles around them?"

Minerva blinked in surprise, "I didn't know you were a Tornadoes fan, Prewett."

Prewett turned to her in mild surprise as well, almost as if he hadn't even noticed her arrival. He explained drily, "I'm from Tutshill."

"How did I not know that?" she asked.

Prewett raised his eyebrows at her, a small smirk spreading onto his face, "Well, we don't talk about much beyond the Gryffindor team."

Minerva opened her mouth slightly at this, feeling slightly embarrassed and at a loss for words. The boys continued on with their conversation. Minerva felt out of place and uncomfortable, sitting between a man she often snubbed and the boyfriend who had not acknowledged her when she joined them. As they spoke over her, both as if she weren't there and yet choosing their words carefully because she was, Minerva began to feel how she felt before she and Oliver started dating: like a prim and proper outsider, too bookish and uptight for any remotely coarse conversation. Minerva sat stiffly between them, feeling more self-conscious than she had in a while and growing more upset by the minute. How had something so small grown into something this upsetting? Was it all in her head? Was Oliver not actually upset with her, not intentionally ignoring her, completely oblivious to the way she was feeling? In a way, him being oblivious made it a little worse. That feeling of being an outsider may be fabricated, but how much of it Oliver noticed wasn't. She wished he would notice, or acknowledge her if he did.

Sitting stiffly with her arms crossed, Minerva turned to each boy as he spoke. Her head turned side to side as if watching a tennis match, observing and listening but not feeling welcome to contribute. None of the boys looked at her as they talked to each other. The conversation went on like this for several minutes before, after making a snide comment about the absurdity of the Plumpton Pass – named after the time Hogwarts's own Flying Instructor and Quidditch Referee caught the Snitch after a record-breaking three-and-a-half seconds for the Tornadoes – Nicholas met Minerva's eyes. So caught off-guard was she at finally making eye contact with someone that Minerva did not turn her attention to Prewett as he made his retort, choosing to demean the Wasps rather than defend one of the most famous moments for his team. Nicholas held Minerva's gaze for a few seconds before turning to Prewett and saying, "Yes, the Wasps are terrible at the moment, I've acknowledged it. But I'm a Witchampton man, born and raised, and I won't turn my back on them no matter what you say."

Prewett rolled his eyes at that. Nicholas then turned back to Minerva and asked, "Have you ever been to Witchampton, Minerva?"

Minerva blinked at him, surprised at being addressed by Nicholas Pomfrey of all people. "No, I can't say I have."

"It's a quaint village. About a third of it is Muggles, and they haven't a clue there might be something more to the name of it. Poppy came to visit over Christmas, did she tell you?"

"She mentioned she visited Nathan, and that he lived in a small village," Minerva replied. "She said it was beautiful there."

Nicholas tilted his head consideringly, "Yes, she did say that about it. I suppose if it's novel you could say that. If it's not, it's just boring."

"Sometimes we need to see the things we take for granted in someone else's eyes before we can appreciate them," Minerva said.

Nicholas snorted, a smirk forming on his face, "Like my brother."

Minerva raised her eyebrows at him, a smile curling onto her face, "Your brother?"

"Perhaps it's because of your friend, but I've never seen Nathan quite so sure of himself as I've seen him with her," Nicholas explained.

"Well," Minerva began, but then stopped herself. She glanced over at Oliver, thinking back the time she'd caught him coaching Nathan, but remembering that she was sworn to secrecy about that. Oliver visibly tensed when Minerva looked to him. Rectifying her near slip-up, she instead said, "Maybe that's what love does to a person."

"You think it's love?" Nicholas asked.

"You don't?" Minerva returned.

Nicholas shrugged, "Oh, I don't know. I just know that witches talk about those things more."

Minerva gave him a small smile, "Well, Poppy hasn't said anything. That's just my perspective." She glanced over at Oliver again and said, "But perhaps I'm more predisposed to that kind of perception at that moment."

Finally, a warm, genuine smile slid slowly onto Oliver's face. The sight of it made Minerva's heart soar with relief.

"Ah, get a room," Donnie joked.

Minerva raised her eyebrows at him and retorted, "Careful, we might take yours."

Oliver grinned at that and stood, offering Minerva his hand, "What a good idea. Shall we?"

Minerva laughed lightly and took his hand, allowing herself to be pulled off the couch. "We shall."

As they walked away, Minerva turned back to look at Nicholas, who was watching her retreating back. She gave him a small, grateful smile, which he responded to with a raised hand. She saw Donnie getting up and taking the place Oliver had just vacated, bringing himself closer to the other remaining boys. Minerva squeezed Oliver's hand as she turned back in his direction. He was leading them to the staircase to the boys' dormitory. They mounted the steps in silence, their hands slipping apart. They did not speak until the door was shut behind them. Minerva was relieved to find the room empty.

"Oliver," Minerva said. Oliver turned to face her. "I wanted to apologize for being short with you earlier. After Defense."

Oliver nodded, rubbing the back of his head nervously, "I was…confused, by that."

"I just really needed to talk to Merrythought alone," she explained.

"Why?"

Minerva wrung her hands, "Well…Dumbledore asked her if she would give me private dueling lessons, and –"

"Private dueling lessons? What for?" Oliver asked, bewildered.

"Because I want to fight in this war!" Minerva replied, baffled that she had to explain herself. "She took the opportunity to duel me to see if Dumbledore's request was coming from, well, favoritism, or if I would actually find value in private lessons."

Oliver stared at her, mouth open and looking no less bewildered. As Minerva took a moment to eye his expression, he shut his mouth and prompted, "And?"

"And…she's going to offer optional advanced dueling practice to all NEWT-level students. It will be tailored for students who want to join the Auror Academy or the Resistance."

Oliver sat down on his bed, looking surprised. Minerva stood in front of him silently, wondering if he would say something. Eventually, Oliver said, "So…you've been practicing? Outside of class?"

Minerva hesitated before nodding slowly.

"How?"

She licked her lips nervously. This wasn't what she had planned for revealing the Room of Requirement to Oliver, but she didn't want to lie to him. She couldn't. That would not be good for them long-term. After hesitating for just a few seconds more, Minerva sighed in resignation and said, "It's easier if I show you."

Oliver blinked at her in surprise, but stood to follow her back out of his dorm and through the Gryffindor common room. They walked in silence to the moving staircase, and made it up a level before Minerva decided to ask, "Back in the common room…were you ignoring me intentionally?"

She met his eyes, searching his expression. He glanced away. She thought he looked slightly guilty, but she might have still been imagining what she assumed he should be feeling. Oliver replied, "Well, I thought you might not want to talk to me. After Defense."

"I sat next to you," she countered quietly, still watching his expression as they waited for the stairs to move into place.

Oliver grimaced, "Yes, well…" He rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. The staircase connected to its platform with a thud, and they climbed the last few steps onto it and quickly stepped onto the next set of stairs before it moved away. Finally, Oliver said, "You're right. I was a little annoyed with you. I didn't want to talk to you."

Minerva bowed her head, feeling hurt, but also confused about how hurt she had a right to be. She hadn't thought that the way she'd brushed him aside had been that rude, but rude enough to warrant an apology. Was he justified in feeling and behaving the way he did? In her gut, Minerva felt like he shouldn't have treated her that way, no matter how he was feeling, but she couldn't articulate precisely why. They made it onto another set of stairs and were passed by a pair of fourth-year Ravenclaws before Minerva finally said, "It made me feel very alone."

"I'm sorry," he said. He opened and closed his mouth, but said nothing more.

Minerva eyed him, wondering what he had been about to say and if he would still say it. She appreciated the apology but still felt a little sad. But what more could he say? The pair of them continued the climb up to the seventh floor in awkward silence. Minerva was relieved when they finally reached the seventh floor. She walked quickly to the corridor where she could summon the Room. Unlike when she took Dumbledore to the corridor, she did not tell Oliver to stop when she began to pace, and so Oliver was very confused when Minerva suddenly turned on her heel and walked a few paces in the other direction, and then back to him. Once Minerva was beside him again, she turned wordlessly to the previously blank wall, and gestured to the door that had just appeared there. Oliver stared at it, stunned. Minerva walked up to it and opened the door, stepping in and holding it for him expectantly. Oliver followed her inside without a word.

"This is how I've been practicing," Minerva explained. She summoned the room just as she'd had when she showed it to Dumbledore, so there was a single dummy awaiting command in the middle of the room. Minerva gestured to it, "That will attack us with simple Burning Hexes and Minor Cutting Charms if I will it to. I've been fighting dummies like these in my spare time."

"What is this place?" Oliver asked in awe.

"Dumbledore says it's called the Room of Requirement," Minerva replied quietly. "Rolanda, Pop –"

"Dumbledore says?" Oliver asked.

"Well, yes, he found out I'd been practicing and asked how, just as you did. I insisted I wasn't dueling anyone. He was skeptical. I had to show him. That's why he asked Merrythought to give me private lessons, because he says I'm not to do this anymore," Minerva explained.

Oliver turned back to examining the room without a word. As he looked around, Minerva watched the room begin to change. The dummy disappeared, and in its place a double bed with an inviting-looking duvet and pillows appeared. Oliver grinned and turned back to Minerva, who gave him a small smile but said, "I'm not really in the mood."

Oliver's smile faltered. A comfy chair appeared right behind Minerva, and she sat in it. Oliver came to sit in a chair that appeared for him directly next to hers. He tentatively reached out for her hand, which she permitted him to take. He murmured, "I really am sorry I made you feel isolated."

Minerva looked down, her shoulders tense, "It's just…that feeling fed insecurities I thought were gone. I haven't felt that way since fifth year."

"You? Insecure?" Oliver asked dubiously, an amused half-smile curling at his lips.

Minerva shot him a look, pursing her lips to force back a smile. "Yes, me. I never told you? I felt like other Gryffindors saw me as too bookish or standoffish to truly be one of them. And, of course, it was my first year as Captain and I felt wildly underqualified. I felt like the older students disliked me for it, that maybe they saw it as favoritism on Dumbledore's part. I had been made Prefect, too, and had to enforce the rules. I…I felt like everyone hated me. I…," she shook her head, feeling tenser by the second as she reflected on the previous year. "It was a bad year for me."

Oliver squeezed her hand, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea." He paused, as if thinking about what in that he could pick apart, and then said, "For what it's worth, there was no better choice for Captain than you. Sprout and Prewett were oldest, but they joined at the same time as you and they are too standoffish and full of themselves to be proper Captains. You, me, and Donnie are the same age, but we joined after and certainly don't have the discipline for it. Choosing you made the most sense."

Minerva gave him a small, weak smile. "Thanks. We still lost last year."

Oliver rolled his eyes, "You were a new Captain and, well, even though you were the right choice that didn't stop Sprout and Prewett from being arses about a fifth-year captaining them."

Minerva sighed and shook her head, her eyes directed downward, but didn't respond.

Silence fell between them for a few moments before Oliver asked quietly, "What changed?"

Minerva's head jerked up to look at him again, surprised. She blinked at him, taking a moment to realize what that he meant her confidence rather than her ability to captain the Gryffindor team. She felt heat rise to her cheeks at that realization, embarrassed at the answer. She watched Oliver's eyes rove over her face, and the smile that slowly spread onto his face as he looked at her. Her heart warmed to him, and she admitted, "You made me feel accepted."

Oliver sat up straighter, his eyebrows raising in surprise. His small smile grew into a grin at that. "Me?"

Minerva rolled her eyes, "Yes, you. Don't let it go to your head."

He laughed and reached over to put his arm around her. Their two chairs merged into one couch to facilitate this. Minerva leaned into his embrace, and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. They sat together like that in comfortable silence, enjoying the nearness and reflecting on the good things the other had brought into their lives.

It was Oliver who broke the silence again. With his lips near her ear, he murmured, "I don't think people thought you were too bookish or standoffish, for what it's worth. I think people just found you intimidating, but in a positive way. I mean, I think they admired you. I think they still do."

Minerva snorted softly and repeated, "Intimidating." She twisted her neck to look at him and commented, "I never felt like you saw me that way."

He grinned down at her, "Hmm, because I was infatuated with you."

Minerva sat up, grinning now too, "Oh? For how long?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, but Minerva was pleased to see that his cheeks were turning pink. "Oh, I don't know. I'm sure you noticed me flirting with you in our fifth year? I couldn't help it, even with you dating Green."

"I noticed," Minerva replied, amused. There was very little space separating them, and the air between them felt electric. Minerva's eyes flickered down to his lips, and Oliver's did the same. She murmured, "I love you."

He grinned. "I love you too."

Minerva closed the distance between them and kissed him, immediately melting at the feel of his warm mouth against hers. They kissed slowly, tenderly, and sensually, with their arms wrapped around each other. They weren't kissing for long before Oliver gently pushed her onto her back, taking advantage of the couch the Room provided for them, and started running his hands along her body as he kissed her. Minerva's hands ran over his chest, pushing and pulling at his robes, already yearning for skin-to-skin contact. Sensing what she wanted, Oliver helped her remove his school robes until he was bare-chested over her. Minerva hungrily ran her hands across his chest. She loved the way his skin, hair, and muscles felt beneath her hands. What she enjoyed even more, though, was the way her own bare chest felt against his. She started to pull off her own robes, and wished for more room – and suddenly, she had it. Their couch shifted into a bed. Oliver grinned as Minerva pushed him onto his back and straddled him, pulling off her school robes. Once she was naked from the waist up, she urged him to sit up and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her chest against his and kissing him fervently. He moaned into her mouth and ran his hands over her hips and up to caress the sides of her breasts. She pulled away slightly to permit him to slide a hand between them and take one of her breasts in his hand. Oliver's mouth ripped away from hers and he attacked her neck with his tongue and teeth. Minerva tilted her head back, gasping. She began to rub herself against him for some relief, but she barely had the opportunity to do this before she found herself on her back again, with Oliver ravishing her neck and breasts with his kisses and touches. She moaned as he took one of her nipples in his mouth, and tried to watch him through half-open eyes as he slowly traced his tongue around it while making eye contact with her.

When he paused to look at her, she pulled him back upwards to kiss him on the mouth again. Their tongues twirled hungrily together as they wrapped their arms tightly around each other, their legs tangled. Minerva made a quiet sound of displeasure as Oliver pulled away again to look at her face. He murmured, "Minerva…I want you…"

Minerva moaned in complaint at the unfairness of saying such a thing after working her up like this. "You know we can't," she replied hoarsely.

"I've been practicing the spell. I know how to do it. I know what it feels like when it's working," he pressed.

Minerva stared up at him, feeling like she was supposed to say no but not wanting to at all. She wanted this as much as he did. This wasn't quite how she'd imagined it – she thought she'd be more prepared, more assured of the effectiveness of their contraception – but one thing she'd learned through dating Oliver was that life didn't always go as planned. Sometimes, the best things in life came without a plan at all.

"Try the spell," she whispered.

Oliver's eyes lit up and he grinned. Minerva's heart pounded as he pulled away from her, and she watched him retrieve his wand from his robes that were discarded on the floor. A mix of nervousness and excitement flowed through her as she watched him slide out of his pants, and wave his wand at his erection, murmuring, "Silphium."

He paused a moment after casting the spell and then looked back over at her hopefully. Minerva smiled at him shakily and helped him remove the rest of her clothes. He resumed his position on top of her, and she said, "Kiss me again." She was nervous, and it was affecting her arousal. You're excited. Remember how much you wanted this seconds ago.

Oliver, though, knew what brought her pleasure. He surely sensed she was nervous, and might have been a little nervous himself. As he kissed her, he brought his hand between her legs and started massaging her there the way she liked. Minerva moaned into his mouth. Grinning, Oliver turned his attention to her neck as he continued rubbing her, eliciting soft moans. After becoming nearly drunk with desire, she pushed him away so she could give attention to his chest, leaving trails with her tongue and nipping at his nipples. He groaned when one of her hands snuck downward and squeezed his bum. They pulled apart and met each other's eyes again searchingly.

"Now?" he asked quietly.

"Now," she murmured back.

And, with some awkwardness, he entered her for the first time. Minerva gasped at the foreign sensation, and was surprised at the pain that accompanied it. She looked up at Oliver, whose eyes had rolled back in his head as he moved on top of her, slowly at first, and progressively quicker. There was some pleasure in the friction that teased that this could be something very enjoyable, but at the moment it was just a ghost of pleasure. Minerva closed her eyes and tried to focus on that pleasure. It helped a little, but not enough, and all too soon the rhythm of Oliver's thrusting changed and she felt a different foreign sensation inside of her. Minerva opened her eyes and found Oliver looking down at her with wonder. She stared up at him, amazed for a completely different reason.

Oliver laughed a soft, delighted little laugh and slid off of her, falling heavily onto the bed beside her. She blinked, perplexed as he pulled her to him, spooning her. He sighed happily into her ear and murmured, "I love you so much."

Slightly baffled, Minerva replied, "I love you too."

"That was fantastic," he said. Minerva had nothing to say. She began to feel a little disappointed that their experiences had been so different. It couldn't be this way for everyone, though. She thought of Rolanda; she was sure her friend wouldn't be so obsessed with sex if it was always like this. She suddenly felt a desperate need to talk to Rolanda. Her book had prepared her for some disappointment, but thinking back on Rolanda's tale of her first time, she had hoped for better.

"Minerva?"

Minerva realized she hadn't said anything in response to Oliver's statement of how wonderful his experience had been. He urged her to turn and face him, so she did.

He searched her face and asked, "Was that good for you?"

She averted her gaze and shrugged a little. In her peripheral vision, she could see his face fall.

"We can – we can try again! I want –" he began.

"It's alright," Minerva interjected quickly. "I don't think we should try again until I take the potion."

"I'm sure it worked –"

"I know, but I would just be more comfortable, I think. Not that I wasn't comfortable. I was too surprised by the way it felt to enjoy it. But still, I think that extra layer of security will help me next time," she explained.

Minerva finally looked back up at his face. He looked crestfallen. She felt for him. She wished she could share in the way he was feeling, wished they could remember their first time the same way as some magical experience. She placed a kiss tenderly on his lips and murmured, "I love you, Oliver."

He gave her a sad little smile, "I love you too, Minerva."

---

After dinner, Minerva, Rolanda, Poppy, and Pomona spent their time before curfew in the Room of Requirement. As interested as she was in Pomona's work with Professor Marsh on the Mandrakes, and as happy as she was for her friend, her mind kept drifting away from the conversation anxiously. Minerva was itching to talk to Rolanda alone, but she couldn't think of a good excuse to pull her aside without hurting their other friends' feelings. She just wasn't ready to talk to them about what had happened today. She was a little embarrassed that she didn't have the kind of story Rolanda had once regaled them with. She couldn't find an opening until it was nearly the time they usually left for their separate common rooms – or Prefect patrol, in Minerva and Poppy's case, if they were scheduled that night.

Minerva made a show of checking her watch and said, "We should be on our way. Poppy, don't you have patrol tonight?"

"Ah…yes, I do," Poppy replied. A clock appeared on the table beside her. "I suppose I better be on my way to meet the others."

The four of them stood and started making their way out. Poppy and Pomona went ahead. Minerva was grateful that they were oblivious to how far ahead they were as they chatted about Healing class. She intentionally dithered as she shouldered her bag, and Rolanda waited for her.

Once her bag was securely on her shoulder, she turned to Rolanda without further pretense and said quietly, "Oliver and I had sex today."

Rolanda's eyes bugged and she exclaimed, "What?"

Minerva was grateful that Poppy and Pomona had already left the Room as she shushed her best friend, "Please, I don't want them to know yet."

"Why not? They won't judge you. They already know plenty about me and Richard."

Minerva crossed her arms uncomfortably, "It's just…I didn't enjoy it. Not really. So…I'm embarrassed."

Rolanda gave her a sympathetic smile and rubbed her arm comfortingly, "Oh Minerva. I didn't enjoy my first time, either."

Minerva furrowed her brow, "But you told us…"

Rolanda released a short bark of laughter, "I know what I said. It was mostly the truth, just condensed. Richard and I had sex more than once that night. He was more attentive each time, as we learned what I needed. And even still, what I experienced that night is nothing compared to what we have now."

Minerva grew thoughtful at that, starting to understand more what the book Rolanda gave her meant about pleasure taking time.

Rolanda gave her a quick, tight side-hug. They started walking towards the door, and she asked, "Are you going to try again tomorrow?"

"Saturday," she replied. "I'm taking my second potion Thursday night, and then Friday, well I think I'll be too tired after Dueling Club and rounds."

Rolanda nodded, giving Minerva a reassuring smile to try to soothe her rambling. "Did you do it in here?"

Minerva's face flushed, but she replied, "Yes."

"Well then," Rolanda grinned. "It looks like you and I need to work out a schedule for when we can use this room."

"Well, definitely when the other has Quidditch practice," Minerva replied, smiling too.

"Oh, definitely."

---

Thursday, 28 January 1943

It was dinnertime in the Great Hall, and Minerva was seated very close to Oliver. His left hand was resting on her thigh while he used his right hand to eat, and it was well and truly driving her mad. She tried to studiously ignore his hand, but whenever she seemed to just be regaining her composure, he would do something like massage her leg or move his pinky finger upward, closer to the more sensitive parts of her body. Each time he did this, she would shoot him a look that clearly was not coming off as sternly as it was intended to, because he would simply raise his eyebrows innocently at her and continue eating. Their friends around them seemed to be completely oblivious to what he was doing; that, or the Gryffindors had mastered subtlety and discretion on the way from the common room to the table.

Minerva scanned the room as she ate in an attempt to ignore Oliver. As she did so, her eyes nearly skimmed over an anomaly in the room – but she did a double take, and watched, perplexed, as Nicholas Pomfrey walked down the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables on the other side of the room. What on earth is he –? He stopped and – Minerva lowered her fork, displeased – placed both of his hands on Charity Goode's shoulders.

To no one in particular, Minerva remarked, "I thought Nicholas was with Christine, now?"

Her friends looked around and saw Nicholas whispering in Charity's ear, and the way a grin slowly crept onto her face. One of Charity's hands came up to touch one of his hands on her shoulder as she listened to him. Then, when Nicholas stood up straight, Charity got up, and they walked together out of the Great Hall. Minerva's friends turned back around.

Donnie grimaced, his face pink, and said, "Well, you know how Nicholas and Christine are. Whatever you saw could have been nothing to them."

Minerva pursed her lips. She was not yet ready to just brush this aside, if only for Charity's sake.

---

"Christine?"

Christine Geris looked up from the copy of Witch Weekly magazine she'd been flipping through in her armchair by the window in the Gryffindor common room. Minerva gave the seventh-year girl a tight smile. Christine did nothing to hide her surprise as she raised her eyebrows and blinked several times up at Minerva. She greeted, "Minerva McGonagall? To what do I owe this honor?"

Minerva felt her face coloring at the way Christine was clearly mocking her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a conversation with the older witch, if they'd ever had one just between the two of them. Minerva folded her hands in front of her and said, "I had some questions about Nicholas and I thought you might be able to answer them."

Christine closed her magazine and looked expectantly up at Minerva, "Nicholas Pomfrey? I probably can."

"I just saw Nicholas with Charity Goode," Minerva began.

"Yes, they're going together," Christine replied nonchalantly.

Minerva blinked at her, perplexed at how dismissive Christine was being. "Well, they were also together last term, but when I saw the two of you together at Richard's house on New Year's, I thought…"

Christine's expression did not change, even as Minerva trailed off leadingly. Once it was clear that Minerva was not going to continue until Christine responded, Christine tilted her chin down slightly, quirking her eyebrows in a way that Minerva thought was rather condescending. The seventh-year released a long-suffering sigh and said, "They were apart. Nicholas has never done well alone. He doesn't like it."

"I noticed," Minerva replied drily, pursing her lips.

Christine smirked and opened her magazine back up, "I don't know why you're bothering to have this conversation with me, Minerva. Everyone knows you disdain him for this very behavior."

Minerva's face flushed and she crossed her arms, "I thought I'd seen something more in him than this. I thought he was growing up."

Christine flattened her magazine again, abruptly this time, to look up at Minerva and roll her eyes, "Do you hear yourself? You sound like the rest of those dumb bints who think they can change him. Nicholas is like a dog with two dicks. If he wants to go hide in an empty classroom and let Charity suck his cock and then come back here and fuck me, that's because that's just who he is. I really don't care, and you shouldn't either. It's really none of your concern."

Minerva's nostrils flared. Her face felt hot; she knew she must be bright red. "And what about Peter? You –"

Charity actually looked amused at that, "Worried about your ex-beau? Don't worry, he's just fine. He's quite keen on simply fucking me when he wants. He doesn't care what I do when I'm not with him."

Feeling flustered now, she started, "Madam Jenison –"

"Are you seriously pulling that one? 'I'm Minerva McGonagall, I'm a Prefect, and I'm going to tell your granny on you!' Merlin's saggy bollocks, McGonagall, where the bloody hell do you think I get my Contraceptive Potions from?"

"She cannot support this behavior –"

"Oh, she doesn't," Christine snorted. "But she would like it even less if I turned up pregnant." She eyed Minerva, from the redness in her face to the tightness of her fists, and shook her head. "I don't know why you're getting your knickers in a twist over this, McGonagall. It's really not your problem."

"I'm just trying to stand up for and protect my fellow women –"

"You sound like a twat. You need to relax and stop taking yourself so seriously. You're just a student like the rest of us. Take a seat." With that, Christine took her magazine and stood, walking away. Minerva's mouth hung open as she watched the other witch walk away.

---

Friday, 29 January 1943

When the group of about thirty sixth- and seventh-year students interested in the Dueling Club filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom after regular classes had concluded for the day, it was to find the room dark. They lit their wands and glanced around nervously at each other, collectively doubting that they'd gotten the location right. Then, out of the far corner of the room, a jet of light shot across the dark space and hit Nathan Pomfrey, pushing him into the person behind him, who let out a startled scream. Most of the students turned their wands in the direction of the light, but no one acted. Another jet of light shot their way, and someone erected a shield charm. Minerva waved her wand, lighting the sconces in the room and revealing Merrythought, who nimbly moved behind her desk chair for cover now that her position had been revealed.

Catching on now, the students started firing spells in their professor's direction. Miraculously, the desk and chair absorbed their spells without taking any damage. Minerva suspected that the sorts of spells that were certainly in place here were important for furniture that was around young people learning how to control their magic. The students moved to surround their professor, who fired back stronger and more accurately than them, all the while dodging and shielding from their attacks. Minerva found herself in awe of the way Merrythought fought; this witch was clearly a champion duelist. She made it look so easy, but Minerva knew that what she was doing was far from it. She was taking on thirty-odd opponents who should have been able to overcome her, perhaps not from skill but from sheer numbers, and making them all out to be completely incompetent. Minerva gritted her teeth as she fired off spell after spell, determined to hit her mark. She observed Merrythought's patterns, and began to notice that the professor was primarily relying on shield charms in Minerva's direction, rather than dodging her spells. Minerva racked her brain for a spell that could push through a shield charm, but was having a hard time. She grew frustrated, realizing she needed more spells in her repertoire. If only she could come up with a strong enough spell, she could potentially end this.

Suddenly, Merrythought cast an area-of-effect charm that created a powerful blast. Every single one of her opponents was knocked off their feet. Merrythought stood, triumphant, in the center of a circle of groaning students. Minerva tried to fire off a spell from the ground, but Merrythought easily side-stepped the spell and disarmed her in one movement. She caught Minerva's wand in her free hand and raised an eyebrow at the student, smirking. Minerva's nostrils flared, frustrated.

"Welcome to Dueling Club," Merrythought said, leaning against her desk. She conjured herself a goblet and then filled it with water. After taking a long sip, she said, "Come on, get up you lot. You'll live, I promise."

The assembled students stood hesitantly, feeling worn out already. Merrythought walked over to Minerva as the Gryffindor stood and handed back her wand without a word.

Merrythought walked along the line of students, most of whom were taller than her, and said, "You all chose to come here for a reason. Perhaps you want to become Aurors, or join an underground resistance movement. Perhaps some of you just want to hone your dueling skill for fun. I certainly did when I was your age, so I wouldn't judge you for it." After reaching the end of the line, she returned to her desk, leaning against it once again. "Among you are my best students. Some of you, I find myself surprised to see here." Her eyes lingered on Nathan as she said this, but only for a second longer before continuing to scan the rest of the students. "But all of you should hope to learn something here. You know my rules. Anything goes in my classroom, as long as you don't kill each other or speak your spells aloud. For those of you who hope to duel competitively, understand that the style of fighting that I will teach you here is not legal in competition. It will, though, teach you to think on your feet and read your opponent, which are vital, core skills for any sort of dueling.

"You walked into this room expecting a formal lesson. You were unprepared for me to attack you in the dark. Had I had any malicious intent against you, you all would probably be dead. Your opponents in the real world are not going to announce themselves and settle into position before they attack you. They are going to come out of nowhere. Maybe you will even have more than one attacker at a time. You need to be prepared for any situation."

She stood up straight and folded her hands behind her back, surveying them all. "But you are not ready for that kind of combat. For now, we will practice as we do in class and today, you can choose your own pairs. I will go around the room and step in, and I will duel each of you individually before I call for our time to end. The next time we meet, I will choose your partners for you, and will continue to do that for the rest of our meetings, for those of you who decide to stay. I will not be surprised if our number dwindles as our meetings go on. The time you have chosen to spend here with me will be intense, make no mistake. You will get no coddling or sympathy from me. I will be holding these meetings two afternoons a week, on Fridays and Saturdays, and these afternoons I plan on pushing you harder than I ever have."

Merrythought paused again to look around the room at the varying degrees of apprehension and stubborn determination on the faces staring back at her. "Well, ready or not, it's time to begin. Pair up!"

The students scrambled to find a dueling partner and get into position. Minerva found herself once again across from Rolanda, who looked very serious and ready to prove herself. Taking a cue from Merrythought, Minerva started attacking Rolanda without instruction or warning. Rolanda hastily erected a shield charm, caught off guard, and Minerva took advantage of her surprise as much as she could by continuing to fire off spells. Rolanda was flat on her back in seconds. She received no acknowledgement from Merrythought for this, but it did make the other students realize that they should do the same. Rolanda got to her feet and the Slytherin began attacking the Gryffindor as good as she'd been given. Soon the room was filled with a chaotic mix of bangs, grunts, and the whirring and flashing of spellfire. This was just the beginning, but already, it exhilarated Minerva. With Merrythought's training, there was no doubt in Minerva's mind that she would be ready to fight out in the real world in due time.

---

Saturday, 30 January 1943

Once again, as was their pattern, Minerva found herself in the Room of Requirement with her friends after dinner, sitting with them without being fully present. Rolanda was still the only one of them that knew what was going on inside her head, and was faithfully maintaining a façade that nothing unusual was going on with Minerva despite the fact that her head was miles away. It wasn't as though Minerva wasn't trying to be part of her friends' conversation, but her mind kept wandering to what she would be doing later that night in that room. Her stomach was in knots, and she kept teetering between labelling those feelings as nerves or excitement. Logically, she felt like she'd already done the hard part, but she couldn't help but be preoccupied with thoughts about whether or not she was going to enjoy herself tonight. Myself? Or enjoy him? What's the proper gram–

"Minerva? What do you think?" Poppy asked.

Minerva blinked at her. Rolanda quickly, seamlessly added, "Yes, Minerva, what do you think about the Dueling Club?"

"Oh, I think it's excellent," Minerva replied. They'd had their second meeting that day. "But I had a different experience today than you three, since I didn't have my own dueling partner."

"Yes, I thought it was very interesting that she chose you to be the odd number," Poppy remarked.

"How was it, dueling everyone?" Pomona asked.

"Interesting," Minerva replied, shrugging. "Boring at times. Exhausting near the end."

"Boring?" Rolanda laughed. "Oh, who was boring?"

"Christine, by far, was the worst duelist," Minerva replied. "I feel bad for her, actually. You don't just choose to join a club like this for no reason, but really, she's not meant for dueling. I felt like I was mock-dueling, almost."

Poppy grimaced, "Well, sometimes in Healing class Pomona and I have seen her pop in to help Madam Jenison – who, you know –"

"Yes, we all know she's Jenison's granddaughter, you say so every time, continue," Rolanda drawled.

Poppy scowled at her, "And from what I've seen, Madam Jenison is quite hard on her."

"I've thought so too, and I find it very jarring to see Madam Jenison be so brisk with her when I've always found her to be very warm and approachable," Pomona added.

Minerva frowned, "Christine did say to me recently that Madam Jenison doesn't approve of her, ah, lifestyle."

"When were you having a heart-to-heart with Christine Geris about her sexual habits?" Rolanda asked, bewildered.

Minerva snorted, "It was an argument, not a heart-to-heart." At her friends' wide-eyed expressions, she filled them in on the details of her conversation with Christine about Nicholas, Charity, and Peter.

After hearing about what her boyfriend's brother had been up to, Poppy leaned back in her chair and frowned. "You know, that makes me sad. I really care about Charity, and I was starting to genuinely like Nicholas. He's been so supportive to Nathan, and of our relationship. I suppose I'd hoped that…maybe him helping Nathan navigate our relationship was a sign of him starting a new chapter for himself."

"I did too," Minerva said with a sympathetic smile. "Do you think we should tell her?"

"What do you mean? Of course you should tell her!" Pomona replied, sounding scandalized that this was even a question.

Poppy grimaced, "She has a right to know. Nicholas won't be pleased, but…"

"But he already has a place to put at least one of his two dicks," Rolanda finished, smirking. Pomona and Poppy flushed red. Minerva rolled her eyes. She should have known that that line from Christine would stick with Rolanda, but she couldn't say she regretted sharing it with her best friend. Rolanda Robinson was the best person she knew to make use of that phrase.

Minerva glanced down at her watch and said, "Curfew's in a half-hour. We should start heading out." Her stomach somersaulted to punctuate her sentence as she remembered that she would be returning to the Room of Requirement very soon.

Her friends sighed and stood. Poppy and Pomona led the way out the door. Minerva and Rolanda followed a few paces behind. As she came up beside Minerva, Rolanda put an arm around her and asked quietly, "Are you alright?"

Minerva smiled at her and nodded quickly, "Yes."

"You don't have to –"

"I know. I want to. I'm excited."

Rolanda grinned, "Good."

Minerva snorted, "I thought you just said –"

"What I mean is, Richard told me that Oliver came to him asking for advice," she gave Minerva a significant look. Minerva flushed. "He's determined to make this a good experience for you."

Minerva smiled, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest.

Minutes before curfew, Minerva stepped into the Room of Requirement with Oliver close behind her. The door disappeared behind them as they entered. The Room provided them with a small, cozy room dominated by a large, inviting looking bed. One of Oliver's hands came to gently rest on her shoulder, and he asked, "Are you alright?"

Minerva smiled at his concern. Some of her nerves melted away at that, and she turned to face him. "Yes," she murmured, glancing down at his lips. He grinned as her eyes darted back up to meet his.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he said softly, stroking her hair.

"Me too."

Oliver grinned and leaned forward, placing a tender kiss on her lips. "I love you so much, Minerva."

"I love you," she murmured back.

Their breath was hot between their lips, and their noses nuzzled each other gently. Minerva placed one of her hands on his cheek and pulled him back as he moved away. She inhaled sharply through her nose as she kissed him hard and slow, and she hooked her other arm around his neck. Oliver's arms wrapped around her as he kissed her back, one arm around her waist and the other sliding up her back, touching the bottom of her black hair where it fell between her shoulder blades. The hand Minerva had on his cheek slid behind his head, and her fingers dug into his hair as her tongue slid against his. Their kiss grew more heated, more urgent as their nerves slipped away and desire overtook them, their lips moving more roughly and their tongues wrestling. One of Minerva's hands slid between them and started working at the buttons of his shirt. He hadn't bothered with an outer robe, it seemed, knowing she would have just pushed it off him.

They pulled apart so Minerva could more easily pull his shirt out of his pants. He grinned at her as she finally was able to toss his shirt onto the floor, and then started working on her robes. He quickly had her down to her knickers, and she barely gave him time to appreciate the view before kissing him again. He moaned as skin touched skin and their mouths found each other again. His kisses were like magic to Minerva, able to make her feel safe and secure and wanted all at once. She gasped as his lips moved from her mouth to her neck, and tilted her head back to give him better access. Her breath hitched with each flick of his tongue and nip of his teeth, and when he latched on to the base of her neck, she released a throaty moan. She reached behind herself and fumbled for the clasp of her bra while he ravished her neck, and after a few attempts managed to unclasp it despite his distractions. He moaned as she pulled her bra away, and his hands immediately moved to cover her breasts. She grasped his face in her hands and pulled him back up to kiss her, which he did happily.

Oliver started pushing her backwards towards the bed. Once she hit it, though, she did not permit herself to be guided onto it. Instead, she pushed him away slightly and started working at his belt. He looked down and grinned before capturing her lips in his again and continuing to snog her thoroughly. She managed to pull his pants off while he did this, and he stepped out of them as they moved together onto the bed. Oliver crawled on top of her, pinned her hands to the bed, and began to direct his kisses downward. He took one of her earlobes between his teeth and started sucking on it. Minerva whimpered at the way his hot breath felt against that sensitive part of her neck. He trailed kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, and then down the valley between her breasts, where he chose one to nip and lick. He freed one of her hands so he could squeeze the breast he was not sucking on. Minerva took advantage of her free hand, and used it to grip the back of his hair. She pulled him off one breast and moved him to the other. He looked up at her with wide eyes, eager to please her, and the look in those eyes made Minerva feel powerful and sexy. She twisted her trapped wrist and he released; she took that hand in hers and pulled it to cover her now-abandoned breast, squeezing her hand over his, directing him to do the same to her breast. Oliver moaned over the nipple he'd been directed to give attention to.

Eventually, though, Oliver decided it was time to give attention to other parts of her body and began to kiss and lick a new trail down, down to her bellybutton, which he dipped his tongue into, and past it. He looked up at her and smirked at the longing look on her face. Without further preamble, he pulled her knickers off and tossed them to the ground. He kissed over the stubble of her hair growing back in after she'd used a hair-removal potion there upon his request, and settled himself between her legs. Minerva's head tilted back and she moaned as his kisses moved to the most sensitive parts of her body. Her back arched and she gripped the sheets as his tongue worked with practiced skill to bring her pleasure. She gasped when she felt his fingers start massaging her in coordination with his tongue. One of her hands came to grasp her own hair as she began to pant, her eyes rolling back in her head as he gave attention to all the right places. She was well and truly wet, now, and desperate for more than what he was currently giving her.

Minerva reached down and gripped his hair. Oliver, perhaps thinking she meant to hold him in place, sliced his tongue through her more roughly at his. Minerva whimpered, losing track of her intention for a moment. As the heat of her arousal grew harder between her legs, though, she remembered and pulled him away.

"Oliver…" she gasped. He grinned at her, his eyes dark with desire. The heat between her legs pulsed as he slowly crawled over her and her eyes raked over his body. Her hands came up and pulled off his underwear hungrily. He kicked them off and then leaned down to kiss her again, slowly and sensually. His fingers slipped between her legs again, and she whimpered into his mouth. She pulled away and whispered, "Now."

Oliver did not need her to tell him twice, and moaned as he slipped inside her. He moved slowly at first, and Minerva smiled in relief to simply feel pleasure from this experience this time. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her back arched as she got lost in the sensations rolling through her. She gasped and moaned as his thrusting grew faster. She felt her pleasure growing within her in a way that almost felt like tension, but good tension, and closed her eyes again. A wave of warmth was spreading through her, and she moaned as it began to take her over. Her whole body contracted and her muscles spasmed pleasurably. She gasped as an overwhelming burst of positive sensations washed over her, and for a moment, nothing else existed in the world to her. Then it was gone, and her body relaxed beneath Oliver. She breathed heavily, catching her breath as Oliver finished himself off. She opened her eyes to watch the way his face was contorted in pleasure, finally understanding how he must have felt their first time, and happy to now have shared in that experience.

Sighing happily, Oliver fell onto the bed beside her. Minerva looked over at him with lazy eyes. He grinned at her, panting. She reached for him and gave him a tender kiss on the lips as she settled down with one arm across his chest, her head on his shoulder.

"I take it you enjoyed yourself?" Oliver asked quietly, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Mhmm." Minerva's eyes were closed.

"I took some advice from Richard, actually."

"Hmm?" A casual hum of someone who wasn't fully present.

Oliver chuckled, "We can talk about it tomorrow. I think you're about to fall asleep."

"Mhmm."

He placed a kiss on her forehead and murmured, "Goodnight, Minerva. I love you."

Minerva fell asleep with a smile on her face.