Unfair

Saturday, 20 February 1943

"Are you sure you want to do this right now?"

Minerva quirked an eyebrow at Oliver. She was sitting up in bed in the Room of Requirement, with a small jar containing a single Mandrake leaf in her lap. Dumbledore had given it to her at the end of her rounds that night, and Minerva had taken it straight to where Oliver was waiting for her in the Room of Requirement. Going straight to her out-after-curfew boyfriend from her rounds did feel a little dishonest, but Oliver had quickly reminded her why the decision was worth her while. The wizard in question was now laying beside her, propped up by his elbow. As Minerva looked down at him, her eyes trailed to his bare chest, remembering happily what they'd been up to. Oliver, noticing the direction of her gaze, pulled aside the duvet to reveal more of his body to her wandering eyes. Amusement twitched at Minerva's lips and her eyes flicked back up to meet his.

"This is important to me, Oliver," she reminded him in a stern voice.

Oliver pouted. Minerva rolled her eyes. He sat up, scooted closer to her, and, without further pretense, took her chin in his hand and guided her lips to his. Minerva moaned as he kissed her, slowly and sensually, as their bare skin touched, as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, drawing her to him. She kissed him back with the same amount of longing, bringing the hand not clutching the jar of her precious leaf up to touch his chest. As he kissed her harder, more urgently, her hand moved up to cup his cheek, where it rested frozen between what her mind wanted it to do and what the growing heat inside of her didn't want it to do. They'd only grown closer ever since she'd challenged him to fit a month's worth of kissing and other forms of physical intimacy in just four days; admittedly, they were probably the hottest four days of their relationship so far. Simply thinking back on it all left Minerva heated, and she slid her hand around the back of his head, burying her fingers in his hair as she let herself get lost in the warmth of his kiss.

Soon, though, the rational part of Minerva's brain won out, and she held him in place as she pulled away reluctantly, gasping. When he actually growled in disapproval, she couldn't help but snort. Oliver laughed gruffly, shaking his head, as he realized what she was laughing at. He placed a gentle kiss on her nose. She gave him a sad little smile as he sighed, reaching up to pull her hair back away from her face. "It's just so unfair," he muttered.

"It's not the end of the world," she teased softly.

"No," Oliver agreed. Her hair now out of her face, he placed his hand on her cheek. "But this" – he gestured broadly – "has been my best distraction from the things that actually might be the end of the world."

"Better than Quidditch?" she asked, bumping his shoulder playfully.

Oliver laughed, bumping her back, "Better than Quidditch."

Minerva sighed, tilting her head so that it rested against his shoulder. He looked down at her, and she said, "It's only a month."

"If it's not cloudy on the next full moon," he retorted.

Minerva snorted softly and nodded, "If it's not cloudy on the next full moon. The Prophet projects a clear forecast, though."

Oliver sighed dramatically and fell back onto the bed. A smile quirked at Minerva's lips as she leaned back, supporting herself by placing her hands on the bed behind her. He placed his hands behind his head and said, "A month is a long time, you know."

"It'll fly by," she replied reassuringly.

"Not if I'm sexually frustrated, it won't," he retorted.

Minerva rolled her eyes and shook her head, "I'm sure you'll manage."

"I'm not so sure, I think I might just explode if I can't even kiss you."

"Oliver," Minerva said in a warning voice, her eyes unsmiling as she looked down at him. "Our relationship is more than snogging and sex to you, I hope."

"Of course it is," he replied quickly, popping back into a sitting position. "Those are just wonderful, wonderful benefits. That I will miss with agony for the next month."

Minerva scoffed and asked the Room to put a glass of water in her outstretched hand. To her delight, one appeared, and she slowly drank it down. This was a recommended first step to take before putting the Mandrake leaf in one's mouth.

"It's just…," Oliver said while she drank. "While some days it feels like we've been this close forever, other days, like right now…it feels like we've only just begun. And I don't want to stop when I feel like we're just getting started."

Minerva finished her glass, considering what he'd said, before replying softly, "Well, if we're only just getting started, that simply means we have that much more to look forward to next month."

Oliver sighed, but said nothing.

"This is something I've been dreaming of doing since I was a little girl. I finally have the opportunity, and if I'm successful –"

"– you'll be the youngest registered Animagus in Britain of the last two-hundred years," he finished.

"You could sound a little prouder, you know," Minerva remarked, frowning.

"I am proud, I'm sorry."

They sat together in tense silence for a moment before Minerva decided to open the jar in her lap, "Well, this is it."

Oliver frowned slightly, but did not intervene. Minerva took a deep breath, shaking slightly with excitement, as she pulled the leaf from the jar and put it in her mouth. It was more bitter than she'd expected, and she made a face at first that drew a snort from Oliver, but she quickly adapted to the taste. She'd never been a particularly picky child. Holding the leaf in her mouth was awkward, but she'd spent a lot of time thinking about that and how she was supposed to go about her day, eating and talking, with it in her mouth, so she'd already developed several strategies. She first tried tucking it under her tongue, but the leaf proved to be too big for that, so she instead pushed it against her cheek, where it easily fit between her cheek and her gums. It was still slightly awkward there, but definitely less so than just in the middle of her mouth. She hoped she would grow accustomed to it.

"That's it then," Oliver murmured, looking like a sad puppy.

"There's really no need to be so dramatic, Oliver," Minerva replied, growing impatient with his need to draw this out.

Oliver scowled and retorted, "There's no need to be so dismissive! Is it really so wrong of me to be sad about the loss of the physical part of our relationship?"

"You're acting like it's the end of our relationship," Minerva snapped. "It's not forever. Now please, can we move on? I'm really starting to feel like you don't value anything else about us." With that, Minerva plopped back down onto the bed, rolling onto her side with her back to him and pulling the duvet up to cover her body.

"That's not true," he replied. "The physical things are so important to me because…it makes me feel like you're a part of me. But it's not the only thing."

Minerva rolled over and, still looking quite serious but now without venom in her voice, she asked simply, "Name something else, then."

"Minerva, really…"

Minerva merely stared expectantly up at him.

Oliver sighed, looked up at the ceiling, and said, "I love playing Quidditch with you. Moments when we coordinate, like that win over Slytherin when I hit that Bludger away from you, leaving you clear to catch the Snitch…that's the closest I've felt to you without having sex."

When he finally looked back down at Minerva, he was relieved to see a light smile playing on her lips. He laid back down next to her, and she turned fully to face him. She stroked his cheek as she said, "I love playing Quidditch with you too." Oliver grinned, and Minerva hummed softly, happily. Her smile faded slightly, though, and she said, "I think it's unfair to me, though, for you to be acting like this thing that's so important to me, that I'm so excited about, is a personal attack on you."

Oliver grasped her hand as it slid away from his face and said, "I'm sorry for acting like that. I don't think it's a personal attack." He kissed her hand. She gave him a small half-smile in response. He sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his body. Minerva smiled and buried her head into his chest. Towards the end of his sigh he said, "Oh, Minerva…"

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. I'm just glad we can still cuddle naked."

Minerva laughed.

Saturday, 27 February 1943

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, perfect weather for a Quidditch match. Minerva and Oliver walked hand-in-hand alongside Donnie and Augusta. Ahead of them walked Hank and Amelia, the two veteran Gryffindor Chasers, and Minerva watched with a smile as they too held hands as they walked. Pomona, Theodore, Poppy, and Nathan walked behind them, with Prewett and Nicholas taking up the rear.

Usually at this time, the sixth-years would be having an Apparition lesson, but this Saturday was skipped on the schedule because it was the morning of the first Quidditch match of the term, between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Minerva and her friends thrummed with excitement as they headed for the pitch, hopeful that the match would be just the thing to alleviate the tension that had revived and run rampant throughout Hogwarts the past two weeks. The petrifications always seemed to amplify whatever latent tension existed because of the war, and this double attack was no different. Minerva and her friends weren't the only ones feeling the pressure from both sides. That thought inspired Minerva to look around for a different familiar face, and was relieved to see Helen Grantham up ahead and to the right, walking to the pitch surrounded by the other Gryffindor second-year girls. Minerva had been heartened to see how the girls had rallied around their dormmate in light of her losses. They would even report to Minerva without her asking on how Helen had been sleeping, and if they thought she'd been having nightmares. Minerva was glad Helen had girls like that to support her; Minerva certainly knew the value of strong female friendships.

Even still, Minerva was desperate for a distraction.

At the pitch, Poppy and Nathan split off from the group to go sit with their house to cheer on their team. Minerva and Pomona usually sat with their own houses, particularly when Rolanda was playing, to try to be as unbiased as possible. Rolanda was enormously competitive, and would take great offense if they didn't root for her. Since Hufflepuff and Gryffindor weren't playing, though, Theodore managed to convince Pomona to sit with the Gryffindors for this match. Minerva watched them interact with interest. Pomona had conveyed mixed feelings about the relationship, and after a good snog would frequently backpedal on what she wanted. There was no doubt that the two had physical chemistry, but beyond that, Minerva wasn't sure they were well-suited.

As Theodore wrapped his arm around Pomona and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle and blush, Minerva felt Oliver stiffen beside her. As she turned to look at him, he seemed to just be looking away, scanning the crowd across from them with feigned casualness that was betrayed by the tenseness in his jaw and shoulders. Minerva pursed her lips and turned away from him, pretending like she hadn't noticed.

Her own relationship had become something that she had her own mixed feelings about over the past week. There were highs, many of them, in which they seemed to be getting along fine – laughing together, practicing Quidditch together – but then whenever he'd see a couple even hint towards their physical relationship, he would behave this way. It was irritating. She was only a quarter through the part of her project with the Mandrake leaf, and Oliver's pity party was growing more ridiculous to her by the day.

"Good morning everyone!" Richard's voice projected throughout the pitch from where he sat in the staff section, "It's a beautiful day out here on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, but you're not here to look at the sky, so let's bring out your teams!"

The crowd cheered, and Richard announced, "First let's welcome the Ravenclaw team! Leading the pack – or should I say, flock –" Beside Minerva, Oliver snorted at his friend's bad joke, "are Keeper Leo Ward and Seeker Charlotte King! Just behind them are the Chasers, Clyde Young, Lloyd Ravensdale, and Lillian Hobbs! And taking up the rear, Beaters Herman McQuillen and the Captain, Peter Green!"

Minerva clapped politely throughout Richard's introduction, though she clapped a little harder for Lloyd, one of her cousin Mason's best friends, and for Lillian. She snorted as she watched Oliver stop clapping altogether just before Richard announced the name of the Captain, the man she'd dated this time last year. Oliver raised his eyebrows at her, trying and failing to suppress the smile that was curling on one side of his lips, and shrugged. Minerva rolled her eyes and shook her head, but was smiling too.

Oliver leaned close and spoke in her ear to be heard over the crowd, "I know Ravenclaw winning is better for our chances, but I can't bring myself to cheer them on for some reason."

"What a mysterious thing," Minerva drawled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Oliver chuckled, "I can't wait to fly circles around him in May."

Minerva laughed.

Someone tapped her and Oliver's shoulders from behind, and they turned to find Prewett smirking down at them. He raised his eyebrows at Oliver and said, "If Green hits Lucretia, you'll help me take care of him, won't you?"

Oliver laughed, "As long as he's in good shape for me to make a fool of him in May once we're through."

Prewett smirked. Minerva shook her head, but was grinning.

"Now let's bring out the Slytherins! Seeker Lucretia Black leads the way, followed closely by Beaters Richard Nott and Odysseus MacNair! Then here come the Chasers, Delroy Zabini, Patrick Parkinson, and Tereus Rosier! And of course, the always beautiful and talented Keeper and captain, Rolanda Robinson! She's certainly a Keeper in my mind, if you know –"

Oliver was laughing while Dumbledore could be heard gently chastising Richard. Minerva sighed, though she was grinning. She could not believe the utter gall of Richard making such a comment sitting beside the man who'd given him a month's detention for his activities with Rolanda. Granted, those detentions were over, but still, it was a bold choice in Minerva's mind.

"Both teams have got something to prove after losing their first matches of the season, so I'm sure we are in for an exciting game!" Richard continued as Rolanda and Peter shook hands. "The players are in position. Mr. Plumpton joins them in the air with the Quaffle, and…Zabini is the first to the Quaffle! Parkinson and Rosier quickly get in formation around him, protecting him from the offensive formation from the Ravenclaw Chasers. Green seems to be predicting the path of one of the Bludgers and –" there was a loud crack as Peter's bat connected with the Bludger he'd been pursuing, "– Green hits a Bludger directly for the Slytherin Chasers. They break up their formation, but not before Zabini successfully makes a pass to Rosier. Rosier is flying towards Ward at the Ravenclaw goalposts with the Quaffle securely under his arm, but the Ravenclaws are closing in. Nott slams a Bludger towards the Ravenclaw Chasers – but McQuillen is there, McQuillen intercepts and hits the Bludger towards Zabini and Parkinson, who were trying to push through the Ravenclaw formation to reach Rosier. Rosier dives, but the Ravenclaws stay with him. Green is going for the other Bludger – Green cracks that Bludger towards Rosier – that's a good angle, should help avoid hitting his team – Rosier attempts to change course, his Beaters are closing in but too far away for a block – but Ravensdale is not changing his position to allow room for Rosier. The two Chasers are shoulder-to-shoulder now. Young closes in on Rosier's other side, it's the body blow formation – and Ravensdale tears away with the Quaffle!"

Minerva cheered. She knew from Mason that Lloyd Ravensdale and Tereus Rosier had a terrible rivalry on the Quidditch pitch, and from what she'd heard about Rosier, she was only too happy to imagine him fuming over this turn of events. Mason's own feud with Rosier was what brought him and Lloyd together as friends, along with his fellow Slytherin Rodger Roads.

"Ravensdale and Hobbs are flying side-by-side now towards Robinson at the Slytherin goalposts. Young was separated in the aftermath of that body blow, and the Slytherins in pursuit are making it difficult for him to rejoin their formation. MacNair reaches the Bludger that trapped Rosier first, and Nott redirects his course – he's flying after the Chasers, now. McQuillen rushes to meet him there, he needs to protect his Chasers – but Green has the other Bludger. Both Bludgers are now flying towards the group of Chasers – what will the waiting Beaters do?"

"The idiot just caused more chaos," Oliver muttered, shaking his head. Minerva snorted.

"Young has broken away from the Slytherin Chasers' trap, but is not flying towards Ravensdale and Hobbs – Ravensdale passes the Quaffle to Hobbs – Hobbs is now flying towards Young! All of the Chasers are now scattering away from the two waiting Beaters. Rosier blocks Ravensdale from rejoining Hobbs and Young – but McQuillen directs his Bludger at Rosier, forcing Rosier out of Ravensdale's way. Nott hits his Bludger after the Ravenclaws, who are back on track towards Robinson. Green seems to have anticipated this, though, and is nearly on top of his Chasers. He cracks the Bludger towards the Slytherin Chasers, who have regrouped. It's headed for Zabini – and that's a nice sloth grip roll from Zabini. The Bludger sails safely past the Slytherin Chasers."

The Slytherins cheered.

"Hobbs, Young, and Ravensdale are headed, practically unchallenged, for Robinson. MacNair sends a Bludger their way, but they move together to avoid it. Robinson is in position. Hobbs passes to Ravensdale – to Young – to Hobbs – back to Young – to Ravensdale – to Hobbs – to Young – Young enters the scoring area, he shoots – oh! He feints! Young – Hobbs – Hobbs scores!"

Minerva's mouth dropped open. Rolanda was gesturing angrily in Plumpton's direction. Minerva could not hear her shouting from where she sat, but there was only one legitimate complaint Rolanda could have in this scenario.

"Robinson seems to be calling stooging. Mr. Plumpton calls for a time-out."

All of the players landed. Plumpton flew over to Rolanda's goalposts, where an argument seemed to be starting between Rolanda and the Ravenclaw Chasers. Peter jogged from where he'd landed over to the group.

Pomona turned to Minerva and asked, "Do you think it was stooging?"

"It's hard to say from here," Minerva admitted. "But I trust Rolanda. She's competitive, but she's never wanted to win dishonestly."

"It happened so fast," Donnie said. Everyone around him turned to listen to a Keeper's perspective. "Young definitely backed up, but I'm not sure he was completely out when Hobbs entered. Like you said, it's hard to see from here. I wouldn't want to be in Rolanda's position right now."

Minerva watched avidly as Rolanda gestured wildly between the line denoting the scoring area, Young, and Lillian. Lillian had her hands on her hips. Peter's arms were crossed. Minerva's eyes widened as she watched Plumpton shake his head and Rolanda's arms fall to her sides, her hands balled into fists. Plumpton blew his whistle, and the players took to the sky once again.

"Mr. Plumpton has ruled that there was no stooging," Richard announced flatly. The Slytherins booed loudly. "The score is 10-0, Ravenclaw."

Minerva shook her head and crossed her arms, her lips pursed. If Rolanda said there was stooging, Minerva believed her. She would love to know on what grounds Plumpton decided to rule against her. In any case, Minerva knew that, stooging or not, Rolanda would not let another Quaffle slip past her today.

And she didn't. The Chasers flew up and down the field between the two sets of goalposts, the Beaters interfering with every move and the Seekers circling overhead. Rolanda, though, seemed to have a fire lit under her. She blocked every shot the Ravenclaws took, catching the Quaffle in her hands, slapping it out of the way, batting it with her broomstick, and once, even, she blocked a shot with her head. Leo Ward at the Ravenclaw goalposts did not fare as well.

"And Zabini scores! It's now 10-30, Slytherin! Ward catches the Quaffle behind his goalposts and tosses it to Ravensdale, who immediately makes his way down the pitch. A well-timed Bludger from MacNair separates Ravensdale from Young and Hobbs, and the Slytherins surround him. It's Rosier and Parkinson on either side of Ravensdale. It looks like Rosier's looking to give Ravensdale a taste of that body blow – Rosier and Parkinson sandwich Ravensdale between them – Ravensdale takes a particularly rough shove from Rosier – Ravensdale drops the Quaffle, and Zabini catches it from underneath."

Plumpton blew his whistle. Minerva looked round for the referee, surprised. He shouted something, which Richard relayed to the crowd: "Mr. Plumpton has awarded a penalty to Ravenclaw on the grounds of cobbing."

There was an uproar from the Slytherin stands at this. Minerva found herself saying, "Rubbish!" From her perspective, Rosier had only shoved Lloyd; he hadn't elbowed him, and certainly not excessively.

Nonetheless, Lloyd was given the Quaffle and got in position to take his penalty shot. Rolanda blocked it, of course, but it was the principle of the thing that rubbed people the wrong way.

The game resumed after Lloyd's penalty shot. There still had been no sign of the Snitch. Rolanda blocked several more attempted goals, and Ward blocked a few. Two more slipped past him, though, bringing the score to 10-50, Slytherin.

Suddenly, the Slytherin stands erupted with cheers and screams. Minerva's head snapped upwards, looking for Lucretia. Lucretia was diving. Minerva's hands came to cover her racing heart. She felt Prewett jump behind her, and looked around at him with a smile. He had his fist in the air and he was positively beaming with pride. He shouted, "Come on, Lu, come on!"

Charlotte King was hot on Lucretia's tail. The Beaters were volleying the Bludgers back-and-forth, each trying to stop the other team's Seeker while protecting their own. In service of this, the Beaters were closing in on each other, corralling the Bludgers into a tighter space. Parkinson scored a goal on a distracted Ward in the chaos, bringing the score to 10-60, Slytherin, but no one paid attention. Richard didn't even announce it, as he was shouting about the dive for the Snitch and the struggle to gain control of the Bludgers.

Suddenly, Peter, who had flown between MacNair and the Ravenclaw Seeker, unexpectedly turned, allowing the Bludger shot by MacNair to fly past his shoulder. For a wild moment, it looked like he was letting it pursue the Seekers undirected, but then, almost as if in slow motion, Minerva watched as his shoulders turned parallel with the Bludger, as he raised his bat, and swung. Behind her, she heard Prewett shout, "Noo!"

Peter whacked the Bludger directly towards where Lucretia was going. He'd predicted her path well, as the Bludger connected with Lucretia's shoulder. She spun off course, nearly hitting King. King readjusted without losing sight of the Snitch, and flattened herself against her broom to pursue it unchallenged. Peter flew to control the Bludger he'd sent after Lucretia while McQuillen rushed to guard King from the Slytherin Beaters. Lucretia regained control and flew after King, but King had a big lead on her now. It proved to be too good of a lead in the end: "– and King catches the Snitch! Ravenclaw wins the game with a score of 160 to 60!"

Minerva and Pomona exchanged grimaces as they politely applauded. Most of the Gryffindors around them were raucously celebrating Ravenclaw's win – Theodore beside Pomona included – though when she looked around at Prewett she found that he was silent and looked rather pale. Oliver clapped his hand against Prewett's arm heavily and said, raising his voice over the cheers of his housemates, "She's alright, mate. She was going after the Snitch again at the end there."

Prewett clenched his jaw and nodded once, stiffly. They followed the wave of students out of the pitch. By the look on Prewett's face, he had half a mind to push his way against the flow of traffic to find Lucretia, but Nicholas kept a firm grip on his upper arm, leading him further out of the pitch and away from his fiancée. Minerva, too, felt the need to find someone on the pitch. Rolanda would surely not be in a good mood after that loss, and Minerva felt for her. Rolanda played her best, as always, but King had known she needed to end that game. She did what any good Seeker would do, and pushed through all the chaos happening around her without taking her eyes off the Snitch, catching it right when her team needed her to. As a Seeker, Minerva respected it. As Rolanda's best friend, she was smarting.

"Poppy!" Pomona's excited voice beside her drew Minerva from her thoughts. She turned to see Poppy and Nathan squeezing between people to join them. They were flushed and grinning, which raised Minerva's eyebrows. She had never known Poppy to be a particularly impassioned Quidditch fan, and – from Minerva's perspective – Ravenclaw had not played a great game today, but the look on her face suggested exhilaration. Pomona, too, gave her friend an amused look, at which Poppy just laughed, squeezing Pomona's arm. Minerva watched Oliver give Nathan a thumbs-up over Pomona's head. Nathan turned redder and looked away quickly, though he was still smiling. Minerva was very curious about what exactly was going on, but was uncomfortable enough in the thick crowd full of jostling teenagers to decide that it could wait until they had more breathing room, in a quieter place.

That quieter place, it seemed, instinctively was the Room of Requirement. Minerva, Pomona, and Poppy started climbing the stairs in the Entrance Hall without discussing their destination. Their boyfriends were perplexed by this, and Oliver even called after them, "Where are you going?"

Minerva turned around and said, "Our spot. If Rolanda asks, direct her there."

They climbed the stairs quickly. The higher they went, the thinner the crowds of students became, until there were no other students around as they climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. They produced their room with practiced speed. As soon as they stepped inside with the door shut behind them, Pomona gripped Poppy's arm and asked, "How were the Ravenclaw stands? You and Nathan looked like you had a good time."

Poppy beamed, her face flushing again lightly. "Those two things are mostly unrelated."

Minerva quirked an eyebrow at her. "Oh?"

Poppy sighed happily and practically floated towards her chair in front of the fireplace. Pomona and Minerva followed her, intrigued.

"Well, do you remember how, after the Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff game, I was disappointed that Nathan hadn't kissed me?" Poppy asked. Her friends responded affirmatively. Minerva had an idea of where this story was going as Poppy grinned broadly again once they confirmed they remembered. "When Richard announced that Ravenclaw won, he – oh, he kissed me! I turned to give him a hug and, right in front of everyone, he kissed me, and I mean really kissed me. It felt so romantic. And he was so confident, too! I just –" she sighed happily again "– I think I'm in love." With that, she leaned back heavily in her armchair.

Minerva covered her mouth with her hand to suppress her laughter, worried Poppy would feel as though she were being condescending if she laughed. Poppy's giddiness was simply amusing to her, as she was usually so level-headed. Pomona reached forward, grasped Poppy's hand, and smiled broadly at her, modeling how to appropriately demonstrate feeling happy for a friend.

At that moment, though, the door to the Room reappeared and was opened seconds later by Rolanda. The other three girls sat up straighter, turning to gauge Rolanda's mood. It wasn't good. Still in her green Quidditch robes, Rolanda marched over to them with a thunderous look on her face. She yanked off her Keeper's gloves and threw them onto her chair, and then started pacing in front of the fireplace. Her friends waited tensely for an explosion. Rolanda did not disappoint.

"Plumpton is – is a complete, bloody pillock! That gormless, buggering bellend! He can go stick his fucking broom up his fucking arse for all I care! That refereeing was completely bloody biased – that was stooging! But fine, fine. I should've blocked it anyway. I'll have to deal with more confusing situations in professional Quidditch. But fucking cobbing? I don't think so! My Chasers did nothing – nothing differently from what those bloody Ravenclaws did earlier in the game! I have worked so fucking hard to make my team rise above Slytherin's reputation for playing dirty, and this fucking tosser is over here treating us like we're scum of the earth! And what really gets me is that those Ravenclaws must've known he was being biased, and they said nothing! Right bloody convenient for them that he's – he's fucking prejudiced…"

Her friends had been content to sit back and quietly wait out her rant, to let her get her anger out of her system, but now, listening to her voice break at those last words, they sat up straighter, exchanging concerned looks. Rolanda stopped pacing, turning her back sharply to them. One of her arms crossed over her stomach, supporting the elbow of the other as her hand came up to cover her mouth. Minerva stood slowly, staring hesitantly at Rolanda's back.

"When – when I insisted about the stooging," Rolanda began again. Her voice was quieter now. Minerva was alarmed at the sudden change, at how defeated Rolanda suddenly sounded. "He wouldn't hear it. Finally, he said…he said that he didn't see stooging," her voice grew hard again, "and unless I wanted to confess to an ability to see things indiscernible to the human eye, the conversation was over."

Minerva sucked in a sharp, angry breath through her nose. Poppy and Pomona gasped from their chairs behind Minerva. "That was highly inappropriate of him," Minerva said sharply, quickly. She closed the distance between her and Rolanda, and placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"You need to report that," Poppy insisted. She and Pomona got to their feet as well.

Rolanda shook her head. Her eyes were closed tightly, and she had her hand pressed tightly against her mouth. She just kept shaking her head without saying anything. Minerva's heart went out to her friend. She desperately wished she could help her, but she didn't know what to do. All she knew she could do right now was rub soothing circles on her back, and she wasn't even sure that was helping. Tears were now rolling slowly down Rolanda's cheeks, and Minerva felt helpless to stop them. She simply couldn't relate to how Rolanda was feeling.

Finally, Rolanda said hoarsely, "I can't."

"Why not?" Pomona asked softly.

Rolanda let out a shaky, humorless laugh, "You don't understand what it's like, being half-human. I've kept my Veela heritage a secret from most people because I saw how people reacted to us growing up. They'd see my mother with my father, and me and my siblings with them, and they'd call us unnatural. They'd curse at us. I watched my father learn to quickly disarm, and my mother learn how to quickly collect her children so they could remove our family from situations like that. They knew they'd likely be blamed for starting any duels that might result from us simply being out in public together. My eyes have taken away that secrecy. The people who had known before started gossiping, and my excuse about using a Color-Changing Spell on them just because I liked the color fell through so quickly." She sniffled and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her robe. She sighed and, her voice thick, she continued, "You don't know how it feels to be suddenly treated so differently, when nothing about you, inside of you, has changed at all. It's just visible now. So, I can't report it because – because I'm afraid. Because this rumor about a monster of Slytherin attacking people scares me. I have nightmares that it's me, either that I'm somehow actually doing it and have no memory or that I know that I'm not but everyone blames me. And even if they don't accuse me of causing the attacks, I can't go to Slughorn because I need him to have faith in me. He took my parents' assurances that my eyes are only cosmetic and legal for Quidditch, and has continued to help groom me for professional play but if – if he thinks for a moment that I'm not viable anymore…I'll lose all that. I'll lose everything. I can't."

Minerva drew her into a hug. Rolanda gripped her tightly as she let out a sob. That sob broke the dam, and Rolanda leaned heavily against Minerva as her body shook. Minerva felt tears in her own eyes, brought on by the depth of the pain in Rolanda's words and now, in the way she desperately clutched Minerva. Poppy and Pomona approached them, Pomona with one hand over her heart and Poppy with one over her mouth. They stood uncertainly off to the side, wanting to be there for their friend but unsure of what to do.

When Rolanda's sobs died down, she said quietly, "And what hurts too is…the Ravenclaws heard him say that to me. And they said nothing."

"Well, then I will certainly be having a talk with Lillian about that," Poppy said roughly. Rolanda lifted her head off Minerva's shoulder to give Poppy a wobbly smile.

Using her Quidditch robes to dry her face, Rolanda continued, "And now that everyone knows, I'm afraid of…of being too good. If people are still thinking that I have an unfair advantage, I'm afraid of working hard to get better. But I'm only sixteen; this isn't supposed to be the peak of my abilities as a Keeper, not if I want to go professional. I have to get better. And if I do –"

"Rolanda Robinson," Minerva said sternly. "Your record speaks for itself. You've always been remarkable, long before your eyes changed. You have a natural talent, and you've worked hard to hone it. You're one of the best Keepers Hogwarts has ever seen." Rolanda scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Well, you certainly have given all of the Chasers you've ever played against a nearly impossible task."

Rolanda sighed, but nodded, "I work hard. I've always worked hard." She continued nodding, and the longer she did so, the surer of herself she seemed to become. "I've felt like I always had to work harder than everyone else. As the younger sister of two brilliant Ravenclaws, as a witch in Quidditch, and especially as one of only two female Captains for Slytherin in the past century…"

Minerva nodded too, "Exactly. Keep doing what you've been doing, and deal with any objections to your heritage as they come. You have the truth on your side. Any Healer can verify that you have no unfair advantage."

Rolanda smiled weakly and leaned against Minerva. Pomona stepped forward and wrapped Rolanda in a tight hug, which Rolanda returned with her free arm. After Pomona stepped away, Poppy took her place. Rolanda clung to her a little longer, and once they pulled apart Rolanda said, "I hope I didn't offend you –"

"Oh no!" Poppy interjected quickly. "Not at all. Everything you said was completely justified."

Rolanda's face crumpled again and she said in a strangled voice, "Thank you." Her arms crossed over her chest, Rolanda walked past them and sat down heavily in her chair. Her friends took their seats as well, still eyeing her with serious, concerned expressions. Rolanda wiped away a few fresh tears and then sighed, "It wouldn't have mattered anyway. If Plumpton ruled my way, I mean. That Bludger from Green doomed us when it hit Lucretia. King caught that Snitch on her own merit."

"Yes, well, while I love Quidditch and playing Seeker, even I have to admit that it's ridiculous that you could've been so far head and still lost because of that Snitch," Minerva remarked drily.

Rolanda snorted, the smallest of smiles curling at her lips. Pomona leaned forward and exclaimed, "Thank you! Merlin, I've been saying the same thing, but Theodore keeps telling me that I simply don't understand."

All three of her friends laughed. Minerva, Poppy, and Pomona exchanged happy looks at the sound of Rolanda's laughter, and all leaned forward with interest as Rolanda launched into an explanation about the history and reasoning behind the 150-point value of catching the Snitch.

Minerva, Rolanda, Poppy, and Pomona spent a good part of their day in the Room of Requirement, simply spending time together and cheering up Rolanda. They went downstairs once to have a late lunch in the kitchens, where the house-elves treated Rolanda like the queen her friends knew she was, and didn't leave the Room again until it was time to rejoin the world for Dueling Club. They each entered Merrythought's classroom with their wands drawn, ready to be attacked, but today Merrythought decided to allow everyone to trickle in. She stood at the front of the classroom, leaning against her desk with her hands folded in front of her, holding her wand casually. Still, the fact that it was out was a threat to them all, because she could turn on them in an attempt to catch them off guard at any time. She gave them a pleasant smile as they entered, as if this was a casual meeting of people rather than the most grueling experience that they'd ever chosen to partake in.

Dueling Club had been going well, as far as Minerva was concerned. Merrythought had kept her promise about the intensity of the sessions, and her prediction that not everyone would stay held true. They'd lost Christine Geris after the first week, Charity Goode and Kenny Martin after the second, and after the third, Eve and Jason, although for an entirely different reason. Minerva looked around the room, wondering if their numbers would dwindle again this week, but as the hour of the club's start time neared, the last Ravenclaws trickled in from their party.

With a wave of her wand – which inspired a few instinctive Shield Charms around the room – Merrythought shut the door to her classroom. She grinned as her eyes roved over the smattering of shields spawned around the room out of paranoia. "I'm pleased to see we all made it back this afternoon. I half-expected our resident Quidditch stars to not make an appearance, but I am pleasantly surprised that I was wrong. In any case, I did prepare a few new lists of dueling partners for today. I confess yesterday felt a little strange, watching you all with the exact same partners you had last week. Many of you have had the same partners from the beginning. So, I decided that it was time to take you back outside your comfort zones." She picked a piece of parchment off her desk and said, "When I call your names, find your new partners. Hobbs and Black—"

Lillian Hobbs and Lucretia Black met each other's eyes unenthusiastically before they reluctantly approached each other. Although Lucretia's shoulder had been seen to by Madam Jenison, she was still smarting over her failure to catch the Snitch, and was not looking forward to have to stand across from one of the winning team's Chasers.

"—Scott and Shafiq—" The Head Girl and seventh-year Prefect smiled thinly at each other as they shifted positions.

"—Nicholas Pomfrey and McGonagall—"

Minerva blinked in surprise, her mouth dropping open slightly. Slowly, she turned her head to find Nicholas, who was staring back at her with a blank expression. She'd managed to avoid him for the most part ever since Poppy had told Charity about his ongoing arrangement with Christine, and wasn't even sure precisely how he felt about the situation. For all she knew, he might not even care, but Minerva was embarrassed enough about the series of conversations leading to Poppy's conversation with Charity to not want to find out. It seemed, though, that he would now have an opportunity to express any anger or frustration he may feel towards her. Minerva gripped her wand tighter. She knew she was capable of handling whatever he might throw at her. With that in mind, Minerva gamely walked across the room to stand beside Nicholas.

Minerva had been so wrapped up in her thoughts about Nicholas that she'd missed Donnie being paired with Henry and Richard being paired with Prewett, but she turned her attention back to Merrythought in time to hear her announce, "—Nadson and Brown—"

She smirked slightly as she watched her boyfriend and one of her best friends raise their eyebrows at each other and move to stand beside one another.

Pomona's name was called next, and she was paired with a Ravenclaw boy in their year. Theodore was matched with one of Minerva's dormmates, and—

"—Robinson and Nathan Pomfrey—"

Nathan's face reddened as he made eye contact with one of his girlfriend's best friends. Rolanda simply grinned at him and skipped over to stand beside him.

Once Merrythought called the last of the names, she set the parchment down and raised her eyebrows at them. Minerva's heart jumped to her throat as she realized that was Merrythought's cue. She instinctively cast a Shield Charm between herself and Nicholas as she moved away from his side to get in a better dueling position. He attempted to cast around her shield, but it was too large and too strong to be penetrated. The moment his spell hit her shield, she fired off a spell of her own. He quickly dodged and volleyed back. Back and forth they traded spells, dodging and shielding to avoid them all. Neither of them was able to land a spell on the other. Minerva found herself impressed with how well Nicholas dueled, but grew more determined to best him with each failed attempt. Minerva attempted to lull him into a sense of security by trading one spell at a time, and then, abruptly, started firing off several in quick succession. He tried dodging at first, but then had to stand his ground behind a strong shield because of the way she'd dispersed her spells. As soon as he planted his feet to hold his shield, Minerva's heart jolted, thrilled – she'd been waiting for an opportunity like that. Weeks ago, she'd wished she knew of a spell that could slice through a Shield Charm, and had wasted no time researching several. Minerva punctuated her field of quickly-cast spells with a spell that cut through his shield like a sword through water. Nicholas jolted backwards, his wand arm dropping for a moment. Minerva took advantage of that opportunity to hit him with another spell, which sent him arse over tit backwards.

Minerva grinned in triumph, finally allowing herself to take an even breath. That moment nearly cost her, though, as Nicholas's wand pointed at her from the ground. A red jet of light shot out of it, which missed Minerva by a hair as she was jolted out of the way. Nicholas jumped to his feet and put Minerva on the defensive, returning fire as aggressively as he'd been given. Minerva felt like she was almost dancing as she twisted and slid out of the way of his spells.

Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed the wrist of her wand arm, and Minerva's eyes darted over to Merrythought. This wasn't the first time Merrythought had done something like this to a student in one of these lessons, so she knew this did not mean for either of them to stop. Minerva took advantage of Merrythought's tight grip and yanked the Defense professor towards her, making herself small to use the smaller witch as a shield while she grappled for control. Merrythought cast a Shield Charm Nicholas's way to protect herself while she worked to wrestle Minerva's wand away from her, and Nicholas continued firing spells to try to break through and hit one of them. Merrythought erected a new Shield Charm every time Nicholas broke her shield or found a new angle. Minerva elbowed Merrythought and tried to twist her wand in the professor's direction. Merrythought held tight to Minerva's wrist, though, and so Minerva was having a hard time accomplishing this. The professor twisted Minerva around so she was facing Nicholas again, and Minerva hastily erected a new shield as Nicholas tried to take advantage of Minerva's new handicap. Staring down Nicholas from behind her shield, Minerva cried out in frustration. She then goaded Merrythought into grabbing her other wrist, pulled her arms towards herself – and Merrythought's along with them – as though she were hugging herself, and then cast a powerful Shoving Spell. Merrythought was thrown off her, and Minerva quickly righted herself just in time to dodge a spell Nicholas had cast after her shield had faded.

"Very good, McGonagall. You and Pomfrey are now on a team. O'Brien, Longbottom – you are their opponents," Merrythought announced, standing calmly behind Minerva as though she had not just tried to wrestle the student.

Minerva and Nicholas turned to face Henry and Donnie, and without missing a beat, started firing off spells at their new opponents.

"I said you're a team, not for you to find new one-on-one dueling partners," Merrythought snapped.

Minerva grimaced. Teamwork required good communication, which was something she and her partner sorely lacked. She might have to work with people she didn't like, though, if she joined the Resistance. If someone like Nicholas wanted to fight Grindelwald, then surely there would be more people out there that she didn't agree with on her own side. Clenching her jaw, Minerva threw up a shield to protect Nicholas as Donnie and Henry both started directing their spells at him. Nicholas glanced over at her briefly, and then back at the two wizards who were still focused on him. He cast a shield of his own, which Minerva quickly realized was an indication for her to drop hers. They're not paying attention to me, she realized. Grinning, she fired off spells at both wizards. A Disarming Charm hit Henry, but Donnie was able to hastily dodge her spells. Donnie glanced at his wandless partner and quickly summoned his wand, tossing it to him as he cast a Shield Charm to protect them in that moment, as both Nicholas and Minerva had tried to take advantage of this interruption. Minerva, though, cast her Piercing Hex, destroying Donnie's shield. Nicholas was right behind her with a spell that knocked Donnie to the floor. Minerva quickly followed up with a Full-Body Bind for Henry.

"Pomfrey, McGonagall – enemies again," Merrythought ordered, walking over to revive Donnie and free Henry. After setting them back to dueling each other, she moved on to other pairs around the room.

Minerva didn't have a moment to take a breath before Nicholas turned on her. She retaliated strong. These sessions, like nothing else, were doing wonders for her stamina. Merrythought pushed them harder, and for longer, than even she had been pushing herself in the Room of Requirement. There, she would give herself a break when she got tired, but here, there were no breaks. It was solid dueling for an hour, and that was exhausting. It was what she needed, though, and she acknowledged it. She had to be prepared for any sort of fighting situation if she was going to be out there helping combat the Walpurgisnacht. Who knew how long she'd have to hold out in the field?

Whether she liked it or not, though, she was tiring a bit. She gritted her teeth as she dodged and parried yet again. She needed motivation like she'd have against the Walpurgisnacht. You don't like him, she reminded herself. You think how he treats girls like Charity is distasteful. Minerva started channeling that dislike into her spellcasting. She let it feed her. Minerva grimaced as she found a renewed burst of energy in the swelling anger inside her as she thought of Charity, naïve Charity who had given him everything, and it had meant nothing to him. Nicholas' brow furrowed as he noticed Minerva coming into a second wind. He gritted his teeth, trying to dig deep as well, but with a shout of anger, Minerva managed to overpower him, sending him flat on his back. She bent over and put her hands on her knees, breathing heavily.

She found herself pushed to the ground for taking that moment of respite. Minerva rolled over, turning to face who'd shoved her, and made eye contact with Merrythought across the room. Another spell shot from the Defense professor's wand, and Minerva rolled to avoid it. She jumped to her feet and shot a spell at her professor, which Merrythought easily side-stepped. She shouted, "Scott, Shafiq – work together against McGonagall."

Minerva whirled around to face the two seventh-year girls, who grimaced at her as they raised their wands. They looked tired, too. Still, they were two tired witches against one tired witch, and Minerva had no anger to summon against either of them. She fought hard, but a well-coordinated strike from the two of them made Minerva's world turn black as the sweet release of unconsciousness swept over her.

Minerva opened her eyes to find Merrythought standing above her. Once her eyes were clearly open, Merrythought stepped away. A jolt of panic pierced Minerva's heart, and she leapt to her feat. The Reviving Spell had given her a small burst of energy, and Minerva knew to take advantage of whatever help she could get. Nicholas was on his feet, now, too, and the two of them faced off against each other yet again. Minerva wasn't sure how much time had passed before Merrythought had made it back over to their side of the room, but all she did know was that they weren't being stopped. Spells were still flying all over the room as the sixth- and seventh-years dueled each other. Nicholas and Minerva fought each other with a great deal of determination, and were unable to get the better of each other for the rest of the hour.

"That's time!" Merrythought announced. The dueling around the room immediately ceased, and a couple of students took a seat on the floor. They were all breathing heavily and sweating. Merrythought walked amongst her weary students and said, "You're improving. You should all be very proud of what you've done here tonight. You are dismissed."

Minerva leaned against the wall behind her for a moment, catching her breath. She looked over at Gloria Scott, who was seated on the floor. The poor girl was the only one in the room with Prefect rounds that night; Minerva did not envy her.

Her eyes darted back to face forward as Nicholas Pomfrey approached her. He leaned against the wall beside her. They stood next to each other, breathing heavily, for a moment before Nicholas rolled his head against the stone to face her and said, "You were great."

Minerva blinked in surprise and turned to face him herself. She glanced down and realized he was offering her his hand. Pursing her lips slightly, Minerva politely took it and shook. "You too," she replied shortly.

"Did you get all your hate for me out of your system?" he quipped, smirking.

She might've blushed if her face wasn't already red with exertion. She stared at him, bemused, for a moment, until anger reared its ugly head again. Her nostrils flared. It was frustrating to her that he didn't seem to care that she had so much disdain for him, that it didn't seem to make him want to reflect on himself and his actions and make a change. A gargled sound of disgust escaped her throat, and she pushed herself off the wall, walking away from him.

Sunday, 28 February 1943

At lunch the next day, Minerva found herself irritated again. She sat amongst her friends at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, with Oliver on her right. He was talking loudly to Nicholas about Quidditch. With every word Oliver said, and every piece of food that flew out of his mouth and onto the table, Minerva's grip on her fork tightened, a muscle in her jaw jumping. She wanted nothing more than to snap at him to stop talking to Nicholas and to swallow his food before he spoke, but she didn't want to give Nicholas the satisfaction. She just knew he was purposefully engaging her boyfriend to irritate her, and wondered if she should take this as proof that he was angry about her part in Charity leaving him. Either that, or he simply took pleasure in riling her.

A particularly loud burst of laughter from Oliver and Nicholas made Minerva cut her fried cod with her knife a little more aggressively than necessary. As she chewed, she looked around at the Gryffindors around her and found not only were Oliver and Nicholas laughing, but Donnie and Prewett were, too. Minerva's eyes darted to Augusta to gauge her reaction to this, and was disappointed to find a small, amused smile curling at the fifth-year girl's lips. She felt like she was the only one who cared about the way Nicholas treated women. In her opinion, he should be an outcast, and it was baffling to her that no one else seemed to think so. A desperate thought crossed her mind, Am I wrong? She pursed her lips and speared another piece of cod, thinking, If I'm wrong, I don't want to be right.

"Oliver?" she said through gritted teeth. Oliver turned his grin in her direction. "Can I speak to you, alone?"

Oliver raised his eyebrows, glanced around at his friends, and then back at Minerva with a hesitant expression. He eyed the tension in her features for a moment, and finally nodded. Minerva stood up at once and stood beside the bench, waiting for Oliver to swing his legs over. As she did so, her eyes trailed up to meet Nicholas's, and found him smirking at her. Minerva's nostrils flared angrily at that, and she quickly turned on her heel. Oliver followed her out of the Great Hall apprehensively.

Once they were in the Entrance Hall, Minerva rounded on him and asked, "Why are you friends with him?"

"Friends with –? What, Nicholas?" he returned, bewildered. "I dunno, we talk about Quidditch, and he's very funny, did you hear –?"

"So, it's funny that he lets girls have sex with him thinking they're going to be the one he falls in love with?" Minerva snapped.

"Minerva, that's on them—"

"Please tell me you do not actually believe that," Minerva interjected, incensed.

They stared at each other. Minerva's fists were clenched, her cheeks red. Oliver was genuinely stunned by what he perceived as the unexpectedness of this argument. Oliver ran his hand over his gelled hair and said, "The way I see it – maybe I'm wrong! – the way I see it, those girls all see him as a challenge, they know what he does, but—"

"I'm sure Charity Goode didn't see winning Nicholas from Christine as a challenge, considering she didn't know he was also having sex with her," Minerva said under her breath.

Oliver frowned, and after a moment of eyeing her expression he said, "I don't understand why this is suddenly such an issue. You've known I'm friends with him this whole time."

"Because now Nicholas is actively trying to get under my skin," Minerva huffed. She took a deep, angry breath and added, frustrated, "And it's working!"

"Nicholas wouldn't—"

"Oh, I think he would!" she snapped. She shook her head, "I think you should just try to keep some distance between you and him."

He stared at her with his mouth open. "Are you actually telling me who I can and can't be friends with right now?"

Minerva's nostrils flared, "I'm only asking you to use some morality when evaluating your friendships."

"Some morality? Minerva—" Oliver bit his tongue and looked away, shaking his head. Minerva stood tensely. She wondered what he'd been about to say, but evidently, he'd thought better of it.

Minerva shook her head and turned away, starting to walk up the stairs.

"Minerva!" he called after her. She heard him climbing the stairs behind her, but didn't stop. He grabbed her wrist from behind, and it took everything in her willpower to prevent herself from instinctively hexing him, thoughts of Merrythought in Dueling Club flashing through her head, as she turned to face him. He looked earnestly into her face and said, "Can we please not do this right now? I feel like…" he shook his head, staring at their hands, "like everything's unravelling, all because of this stupid project."

Minerva jerked her hand away from him, her eyes widening. She felt as though he'd punched her in the gut. Oliver's mouth hung open, surprised by the words that had come out of his own mouth. Minerva's lips formed a hard, thin line, and she turned sharply away from him, taking the steps two at a time.

"Minerva!" he shouted. Minerva didn't turn. Tears were welling up in her eyes, and she didn't want him to see. She heard him curse faintly behind her as she started on the next flight of stairs, up and away from him.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to go to Gryffindor Tower or the Room of Requirement, but it didn't matter, anyway, because she didn't make it to either. She stopped on the third floor as stubborn tears that she'd tried holding back started rolling down her cheeks, and found the nearest empty classroom instead. She shut the door behind her with a little more force than necessary and then pressed her back against it. She slid down it, sitting on the floor and finally letting the tears come freely.

He doesn't care, she kept thinking. The thought kept rolling through her head, over and over, tormenting her, stabbing at her heart each time. Actually working towards becoming an Animagus was a dream come true for her, and it genuinely was heartbreaking that the man she loved didn't seem to care, and instead, saw her dream more as an inconvenience to him. This stupid project, he'd said. She could get so much recognition if she succeeded, if she actually became the youngest registered Animagus in Britain in the last two centuries. This project meant the world to her, so much so that some days she felt sick with worry that she'd fail. She'd had nightmares about finding out that she didn't have an Animagus form, or that she'd fail at the transformation in a way that would leave her partially transformed for life. She feared becoming a cautionary tale in a textbook, rather than a name to be celebrated in the Transfiguration community.

And she felt like she couldn't tell Oliver about any of those fears. Because even before now, she'd known he didn't really care.

Minerva buried her head in her knees and started to sob.

A knock on the door made her jump and gasp slightly. She shut her mouth, immediately quieting.

On the other side of the door, a gentle voice said, "Hello? It's Professor Gibson. Are you alright?"

Minerva's face crumpled, but she didn't make a sound. She hadn't taken Muggle Studies, so she had no personal relationship with Gibson, but Pomona spoke highly of her as Hufflepuff Head of House. She had to work extra hard to make herself approachable to the students in her house, since she taught an elective.

Still, Minerva didn't know her. Thinking about Pomona, though, made her long to talk to her friend. She said with a croaking voice, "Can you…can you please ask Pomona Collins to come here?"

"I'll find her straightaway," Gibson replied. Minerva closed her eyes gratefully, listening to the sound of the professor's shoes against the flagstone as she walked briskly away.

Her sobs died down to hiccoughs as she waited for her friend to find her. It felt like a long time before she heard footsteps walking quickly in her direction; her lips quirked as she distinguished more than one set of footsteps. The footsteps stopped outside Minerva's door, and she started getting to her feet, knowing without them announcing themselves who was behind the door.

There was a knock anyway, and Pomona's voice said, "Minerva? Are you in there? It's Pomona. I brought Poppy and Rolanda with me, I hope that's alright."

Minerva opened the door for her friends, and their faces expressed varying levels of distress as they took in her red, puffy, wet face. They entered quickly, and Minerva shut the door behind them. As soon as she turned back to face them, she found herself enveloped in a huge hug from Pomona. Minerva closed her eyes tightly as she buried her face in Pomona's shoulder, tears springing to her eyes once again.

"Gibson said she thought it was you, so I thought it would be okay—"

"Thank you," Minerva interjected quietly. "I only asked for you because Gibson's your Head of House."

"I figured," Pomona murmured, rubbing soothing circles on Minerva's back as she held her. Rolanda and Poppy both put comforting hands on her back.

"What happened?" Rolanda asked gently.

Minerva pulled away from Pomona and rested against the door again. She stayed standing this time, and started explaining what had happened. As she did so, tears started rolling down her cheeks again, and she stumbled over parts of her story as her sobs made her hard to understand.

"—and it just has made me feel like he's not proud of me at all. Is it stupid to think he should be proud?"

"It is not stupid," Pomona insisted firmly. She placed both of her hands on Minerva's shoulders and said, "I am so proud of you." Minerva's face crumpled. "Truly. I even wrote to my parents about it, and they're Muggles. They don't know what an Animagus is! But I made sure to explain not only what it is, but that it is very difficult, potentially dangerous, and how truly amazing you are for working this hard to be the best in your subject."

"Thank you," Minerva whispered. She felt like her heart was going to explode as she looked into Pomona's earnest eyes. She felt like crying for a different reason, now.

"And look, I don't…" Pomona's face flushed, "I don't know what sex is like, so I don't know what he's missing. But I do know what snogging is like, and while it is great fun," her face was utterly red now, but she plowed on with determination, not missing a beat, "I could certainly go a month without snogging for a good cause."

Rolanda snorted, "Well, I do know what sex is like, and I think Oliver's being a whinging baby. An especially selfish one at that. I have half a mind to go find Oliver bloody Brown and give him a piece of my mind right now."

Minerva smiled weakly at her and said, "That's not necessary, Rolanda. But thank you."

Poppy conjured a handkerchief, but before offering it to Minerva she eyed it critically and said, "Sorry about the quality, I'm not very good at conjuring."

Minerva laughed lightly as she accepted the proffered handkerchief. After blowing her nose, she said, "You should come to my tutoring. I'll help you."

"Or you could just help me as a friend another time so I don't have to be surrounded by all those people," Poppy countered.

Minerva rolled her eyes and held out the soiled handkerchief. Smirking slightly, she asked, "How are you at vanishing?"

Poppy snorted softly and raised her wand to cast the Vanishing Charm. Minerva quirked an eyebrow as the handkerchief disappeared and said loftily, "It's still there."

"It's clearly gone," Poppy retorted, putting her hands on her hips.

"Not if I can feel it, it isn't," Minerva countered, grinning. She switched the invisible handkerchief to her left hand and raised her wand, casting the Vanishing Charm herself so that it was well and truly gone.

Rolanda shook her head, grinning, "Only Minerva would be cheered up by besting us in Transfiguration."

Minerva gave her a sad little smile, though there was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. Pomona placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Minerva leaned into the touch, tilting her head to the side so that it rested on top of Pomona's. Pomona snaked her arm around Minerva's waist, drawing her into a side-hug. "For what it's worth," the Hufflepuff murmured, "I think you should keep fighting for Oliver. You're both going through a rough time. I'm sure staying away from physical intimacy isn't easy for you, either." Minerva grimaced sadly. "I still believe in my heart that that boy thinks you're a goddess." Minerva snorted.

Rolanda let out a bark of laughter and said, "It's true."

"He's just being a stupid boy right now," Pomona continued, grinning at Rolanda. "But, if you want to break up with him, I'll break up with Theodore, and we can be single together."

The thought of breaking up with Oliver made her heart ache. She shook her head, her lips wobbling a bit, and whispered, "I don't."

Pomona patted her on the back, "I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

Minerva nodded into her chest, not looking at her friends. "Thank you."

"Pomona," Poppy said with an amused grin, "if you're so ready to break up with Theodore, maybe you should anyway."

Pomona sighed, "I know. But every time I think I'm going to do it he snogs me senseless and I completely forget."

Her friends laughed. Pomona blushed.

"How has it been for you, anyway, Minerva?" Rolanda asked softly. "I haven't wanted to talk to you about it, because I didn't want to be reminding you of what you were giving up to do this project, but I have wondered."

"I'm fine for the most part," Minerva replied. "Some days I'm utterly frustrated. I'll look at him and want to kiss him, but I can't. We've…," she blushed, averting her gaze to the floor, "we have tried other ways to satisfy each other, but at least for me, I've found that kissing is important to me and my enjoyment. It feels strange to have him only focusing on kissing my neck and, well, elsewhere."

"Sounds frustrating," Poppy murmured sympathetically.

"Quite," Minerva grimaced. Looking around at their sympathetic faces, a small, amused smile curled at her lips and she added, "And you wouldn't believe how uncomfortable it is crying with a Mandrake leaf in your mouth."

Her friends laughed.

Minerva sighed and conjured her own, softer handkerchief to use to wipe her face. She laughed lightly as she inspected the handkerchief, and said, "Thank Merlin it's Sunday."

"Why's that?" Pomona asked with a small smile.

"Because I don't wear makeup on Sundays because of my early morning Quidditch practice. This could've been a much uglier cry," she joked softly. Her friends laughed. She sighed and vanished the handkerchief. "I don't want to stay in here all day. I'm starting to feel trapped." She grimaced and shook her head. "I think a walk would help clear my head. How does my face look?"

Poppy stepped up to her with her wand raised, examining her face, "You're a little puffy and red, still, but I can cast a charm that helps with swelling to fix that."

Minerva nodded, and Poppy waved her wand gently around Minerva's eyes and nose. Once she stepped away, Minerva conjured a mirror to inspect Poppy's handiwork. Satisfied, she turned and led the way out the door.

As her friends fell into step beside her, Poppy said, "I talked to Lillian last night. After Dueling Club." Her friends looked over at her. Poppy was staring at her feet as she walked, her arms crossed over her chest. "She…she seems to be on his side."

Rolanda's face hardened. She looked straight ahead, ignoring the concerned looks that Minerva and Pomona sent her way.

"It was hard," Poppy continued. Minerva reluctantly looked away from Rolanda, turning back to Poppy. "I know Lillian is a good person, but…I'm so confused. How can someone I know to be otherwise kind, intelligent, and loving say…"

Rolanda turned to look at her at that, and asked impassively, "What did she say?"

Poppy pursed her lips as she met Rolanda's eyes hesitantly. They walked a few paces before Poppy finally said, "She said she doesn't think you should be allowed to play."

"That's just ignorance on her part," Pomona said firmly.

"I'll let Madam Jenison examine me in front of them all if that's what it takes," Rolanda ground out.

"That's against the code of morality in Healing—" Poppy began.

"I don't care!" Rolanda snapped. "I'll insist. I'll sign whatever I need to sign. I deserve fair treatment."

"You absolutely do," Minerva affirmed, gripping Rolanda's upper arm supportively. The two witches exchanged tight smiles.

Rolanda nodded firmly, "Exactly. So, if that's what it takes—"

Rolanda stopped talking suddenly, and tilted her head as if listening for something. They had just reached the stairs and were on their way down from the third floor. Her friends stopped on the moving staircase to listen, too. Faintly, they each started to hear the distinctive sounds of spellfire and verbal casting. They exchanged wide-eyed looks, and Minerva led the charge quickly down the stairs with her wand drawn. They soon realized that the sounds were coming from the second floor, and got off the platform in the Hall of Staircases there to search the corridors for dueling.

Soon enough, they came upon five boys, three against two, dueling each other. Minerva clenched her jaw and shook her head as she recognized the boy nearest her as her cousin Mason. Her nostrils flared as she saw Lloyd Ravensdale fighting by his side; he'd been one of the Chasers involved in Rolanda's stooging incident, who would've heard what Plumpton said to her. On Lloyd's other side fought Rodger Roads, completing the trio she knew her cousin walked the halls with every day. Fighting opposite were the usual suspects: Tereus Rosier and Antonin Dolohov.

Minerva hesitated a moment as she watched the fourth-year boys duel. She'd told Mason she wouldn't interfere with his problems, but this was clearly something any Prefect should stop. In that moment of hesitation, though, Rolanda surprised her by shouting, "Oy! Rosier! That's quite enough!"

Poppy raised her wand and cast a Shield Charm between the two groups. She and Rolanda led the way to the group of Slytherins and one Ravenclaw. Rolanda marched right up to the Slytherin Chaser and snapped, "What on earth were you thinking, Rosier? I won't have you getting detention for dueling in the halls when we need to practice now more than ever!"

Rosier's face turned red, "I was thinking that Ravensdale needed to be put in his place after Plumpton showed him so much favoritism yesterday."

"Even if Plumpton hadn't been so biased, we would have still lost, because our Beaters couldn't stop King and our Chasers couldn't score more goals," Rolanda retorted, crossing her arms.

"Plumpton wasn't—" Lloyd began, his fists clenched tightly in anger.

Rolanda's head snapped in his direction, "Oh, shut the fuck up, you wanker. I know you heard him."

Lloyd's mouth snapped shut and his face turned bright red. His nostrils flared and he said roughly, "Maybe he's right, maybe you shouldn't be—"

Lloyd was silenced as he was suddenly pushed against the wall behind him by magic. His eyes went wide, and he, along with everyone else, looked around for who cast it.

"Minerva!" Poppy exclaimed, "You're a Prefect!"

Minerva ignored her as she marched right up to Lloyd, "Just because you can't get a Quaffle past her honestly doesn't mean she has an unfair advantage. It just means she's better than you. She always has been."

"Minerva!" Mason exclaimed, outraged at the way his cousin was treating one of his best friends.

"I'm sorry, Mason, but your friend needs a lesson in how McGonagalls see the world," Minerva snapped, not taking her eyes off Lloyd. "You hate Rosier because of a Quidditch rivalry. That's how you became friends with Mason. Right? And why do Rosier and Dolohov hate Mason and Rodger? Because they're on the side of Slytherin House that doesn't believe in the bigotry espoused by the likes of Malfoy. If you wanted to be a bloody bigot, you chose the wrong Slytherins to be friends with!"

"Minerva!" Poppy hissed. She walked up to Minerva and forcibly pulled her out of Lloyd's face. The fourth-year boy was wide-eyed and pale, now. In contrast, Mason was red-faced and livid. "Minerva. You are a Prefect."

"It doesn't matter," Minerva replied stonily. "Because they're not going to tell anyone about this. We're not taking any points. If they do tell someone, they'll have to admit to dueling in the halls, and I'm sure Peter Green would be just as pleased as Rolanda if Lloyd here ended up in detention with the Slytherins."

With that, Mason scoffed in disgust and grabbed Lloyd's arm, pulling him away from the situation. Rodger followed them as they walked quickly down the hall and around the corner.

"I just would like to say," Rosier began, holding a finger up, "that I support Rolanda, so I'm not a bigot, as you'd say."

"Oh, please," Minerva retorted, rolling her eyes. "That's because she's your Captain. If she were on Gryffindor, you'd be just like the rest of them."

Rosier's face flushed, and he didn't meet Rolanda's eyes. He muttered something to Dolohov, and they, too, turned to leave.

As they walked away, Rolanda turned to Minerva and said, "You shouldn't have done that."

Minerva took a deep, calming breath, shaking her head. "Maybe. But it's too late now."

"You're mental," Rolanda remarked, smirking lightly.

Minerva smiled back ruefully, "I know."

"They might still say something, you know," Poppy said quietly. "Mason looked livid."

"I know," Minerva repeated. She glanced over at Poppy and added, "But there are many things more important to me than being a Prefect."

Rolanda smiled at that.

At dinner, Minerva sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall reading from her Charms textbook. Oliver sat across from her, eating silently and moodily. They still hadn't talked about their disagreement that morning, and Minerva wasn't yet feeling inclined to have that conversation. She knew she wanted to move forward from it, but Oliver's current bad attitude was not encouraging. So, to keep up the appearance of looking too busy to talk, she stayed focused on Charms as she ate.

She was so focused, though, that she didn't notice Peter Green approaching her until he was directly behind her. "Minerva?" Minerva looked up, and first saw the surprised expression on Oliver's face, before turning around to face Peter. He looked angry. "Do you have a problem with the way I run my team?"

Minerva pursed her lips and stood. Oliver looked between them, confused and concerned. Minerva crossed her arms and stood eye-to-eye with her ex-boyfriend and opposing Quidditch Captain with a straight back. She replied coolly, "I have a problem with anyone who blames other people for their own shortcomings, especially if they use prejudice to make their claims."

"Ravenclaw won that match fairly—"

"Ultimately, sure, you took out Lucretia honestly, and King caught the Snitch on her own merit. But your Chasers need work and it's not because Rolanda has some hypothetical unfair advantage. I wasn't attributing any of what I've been hearing to you, but if you want to take credit for why your Chasers seem to think Rolanda shouldn't be playing Quidditch, then I'm happy to blame you."

Peter's nostrils flared. The two Captains stared each other down with cold faces. Minerva was a master at a hard, deadpan stare, so she was unconcerned about him breaking her this way.

Their stare-down was interrupted, though, by hands on both of their shoulders. Minerva pursed her lips and looked away as Peter did to find the Head Boy gently pushing them apart. Henry looked to Minerva with a raised eyebrow and said in a quiet voice, "Are we starting the intimidation for the final early, Captain?"

A muscle in Minerva's jaw jumped, and she glanced back at Peter. Peter wouldn't look at her. "Something like that," Minerva said shortly.

Henry grimaced, and said softly, so that only the two of them could hear, "The two of you are leaders in your houses. You need to step away and set a better example."

Minerva turned back to face Peter fully, raising her eyebrows at him. Peter met her eyes. They stared at each other for another long, tense moment, Minerva challenging him to say something about what she'd done to Lloyd, and Peter evaluating the pros and cons of that very action. Eventually, with a flare of his nostrils, Peter turned and marched away from the Gryffindors.

Once Peter was gone, Henry let out a long sigh and turned to Minerva, asking, "Are you alright?"

Minerva clenched her jaw, her eyes following Peter's progress, "I'm fine."

"What was that really about?" he asked.

"Prejudice," Minerva replied simply. Henry's eyebrows shot up, and she added, "There are some Ravenclaws with a problem with Rolanda."

"I see," Henry said. "I hope, though, as a Prefect, you know that you should go to me or Gloria, or any of the professors if you have concerns about someone being bullied. Not to take matters into your own hands."

Minerva gave him a sharp look, and sat back down without responding. She met Oliver's wide eyes as she did so, and the sight of him, in spite of everything she'd felt earlier, made her relax. She gave him a little smile as she picked her fork back up.

"I'll make him look like a fool in May, don't worry," he said.

Minerva snorted and speared a piece of broccoli. She chewed carefully, as she did every time she ate a vegetable, so as to not also accidentally chew and swallow her Mandrake leaf. Once she swallowed, she said, "You know, we still have to talk."

"I know," he replied, giving her a small, sad smile. "Can I start with I'm sorry?"

Minerva smiled down at her plate.