…the older woman was the one who placed the healing balms on her shoulder. Hermione turned on her side; pressing her face into the pillow… she swore she could smell olive, scent of Minerva.
It produced a wide smile into Hermione's face… as she drifted to sleep.
Year 1998 | First Seventh of May
Chapter 6
The Same Evening | Scars, Sorrows and Salvation
Hermione let out a blood-boiling scream as her body received the impact of Cruciatus curse.
"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?" Bellatrix Lestrange screamed in her face and she tried to get away from the death-eater but the crazy woman dragged her by the hair.
"We found it — we found it — PLEASE!" A terrible scream tore out from her throat as abuse ripped through her with another CRUCIO! Her body fell into the floor with a thud.
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it!" Bellatrix yanked her left arm and carved into her skin— MUDBLOOD
The excruciating digging of a knife into her flesh had her roaring in agony. She felt her body on fire as she helplessly fights Bellatrix off her and frantically jerked her wounded arm closer to her.
Lying, filthy Mudblood!
Filthy Mudblood!
Filthy Mudblood!
Her mind is slipping as the burning sensation dominates her being. She desperately confines her arm closer to her body as the screaming insult of Bellatrix is pounding in her ears, drowning all other sound! As she felt someone reached for her, she twisted in disorientation to get away. She hysterically deflected the ones that she felt taking hold of her, scuffling in terror to flee from the incoming onslaught from Bellatrix.
Then a loving voice pierced in… finally got through her senses… rivaling Bellatrix's mad shouting.
"Hermione, open your eyes darling…"
She forced out the scornful Bellatrix who had been spitting contempt, and instead trailed after that familiar cadence.
"It's Minerva… Darling, open your eyes… It's Minerva… I'm here Hermione… I'm not going to let anyone hurt you… Open your eyes darling… It's Minerva… I'm here… I'm here darling… Please open your eyes Hermione."
She directed her pulse on that gentle voice, using it to drive away the bedlam inside herself. She let that well-familiar lilt wash over her, and started extracting herself from the darkness that she had descended…surrendering and trusting to that tender supplication calling her name.
Eventually the haze started to dissipate.
She found herself slumped on the floor, fallen from the bed during her phantom struggle. She clutched her violated arm close to her chest of which the scar is angrily staring at her — glamour charm cancelled amid the mess. Her body is half hauled away from a supposed enemy at one side and completely trembling from the storm.
"That's it Hermione, come back to me darling."
With a dilatory pace, Hermione arrived at the here and now. Heavily breathing with ears ringing as though she was underwater, she brushed one hand over her face and found it utterly wet from tears. She furiously blinked to dissolve obscurity and slowly arose from the nightmare…unreservedly deferring to that smooth Scottish tone.
Ultimately she surfaced…mist vanished… And sees welled-up emerald eyes heavily laded with concern— Minerva. Also slumped with her on the floor, carefully and patiently waiting for her to come to full consciousness.
"Minerva..…" Hermione crawled the insignificant space between them. Threw herself to the older witch, and held on securely for dear life.
As she did so, she felt the pull to bring her closer…landing herself into Minerva's lap. "I've got you darling, I've got you…" assuring words, whispered to her. And arms wrapping firmly around her waist…
She buried her face into Minerva's neck as she releases wrecking sobs. She started blabbering every pain she harbors caused by the war. In broken narration, she tells Minerva every woes beginning the summer at the end of her sixth year.
She mournfully divulged to Minerva how she took away her parents memories. How she trembled at Harry's enormous task but would not let him do it alone. How she drowned at the heavy burden of being the one supposedly carrying all the answers. How the erupted fights with Harry and Ron almost destroyed them instead of the horcruxes. How the endless camping, searching, isolation, vulnerability bleed her inside out. How she blame herself for their capture by the snatchers. How she had been weak to fight Bellatrix during her torture. How the crumbled Hogwarts, and the after-war effects in general are crippling her…
And most and worst of all— how she can always see her scarred cursed arm. That it matters not if she is unconscious, had it glamoured, or had it covered with clothing… the word is always angrily staring at her. Mudblood… A word that served as a constant declaration that she is nothing but one lucky lowlife who did not die during the war… but should have… instead of Fred… or Lupin… or Tonks… or Dumbledore… or so many others.
When she reached the end of her account, a whole grieving Hermione finally unraveled. Until this moment, she did not even realise that she had directed herself to skip all through sorrow evoked by the war. That she hastily bottled the events as soon as Voldemort was gone, without having true introspection. That the rush had her jumped over to another ill-fated emotional engagement. And the consequence of which had her to an equally desponded state. Every unwisely packed-up pain had surfaced with a vengeance. Crutching on Minerva, she cries with abandon for the war and the effects on her.
"I've got you now darling. I promise, I 've got you…"
She would hear soft affirmations in Scottish brogue and they anchored her in. And after what felt like an insurmountable time, Hermione began controlling her almost suffocating tears. She concentrated on Minerva's tender stroking of her back, letting it settle down her wretched soul. When her cries had long receded, she felt being shifted in Minerva's arms.
"Just hold tight." Gently whispered to her temple.
Minerva was already setting her down on the bed when she realized that the woman had carried her from the floor. Momentarily panicking that Minerva would now leave her; she tensed her grip, almost trapping the arms that are holding her.
"I'm not going anywhere darling." A promised was murmured in ears. "I'm just going to move a little to hand you a glass of water."
Only then she relented and watched Minerva helped her with the needed hydration. Afterwards she inwardly sighed in relief when Minerva settled back close to her, mirroring how she earlier sat when they had talk after eating.
For a while neither of them is saying anything but Minerva had leaned closer, and had taken to stroking her temple and hair. Hermione thoughts are still in haywire but fought to let the elegant fingers running through her hair bring her comfort.
"How do you it?" She asked in a voice hoarse from crying. "Three wars and you are completely intact. How do you forget the scars the wars left you?"
Silently she added, 'How do you stay you? Stay sane… Stay beautiful… Stay brave… Stay strong… Stay being the Minerva McGonagall that they all revered… All depending upon…'
"Scars…" Minerva started, "Visible and invisible ones are not something to be forgotten."
"But how do you not curse back at life? How do you not raise greater sorrow against the sorrow caused to you by others?" She choked bitterly.
"Hermione… One— can't really compare degrees of sorrow. One's sorrow is neither greater nor lesser with another. Regardless of how sorrowful we feel; we can't underscore someone else's sorrow. And the inclination to strike back, which you refer as 'raise sorrow', while it may provide gratification, believe me it will not grant liberation." Minerva softly tells her, delicately but firmly addressing her unintentional harsh interrogation.
"If you didn't…" She paused and caught her accusing tone and got hold of the building anger inside her…not at the woman - never, but at the situation. "Sometimes I feel this rage for what life has thrown at us… that it wants to lash out not to even the score but up one on those who've hurt us. Then I look at you and I feel ashamed that I can't follow your lead – push to rebuild immediately; permit not the effects of the war enslaved you. How do you do it? Is it because it was your third?"
"Hermione… I am yet to find liberation like the rest of you."
"But you— as if you had it all figured out?"
"Maybe the first or the second war afforded me to get to know myself and offer me some sort of indication on how to figure it out. But that is still not figuring it all out…" Hermione caught a flash of pain in Minerva's face before hearing the woman somberly say, "I have yet to tend to my own wounds Hermione. Again, just as the rest of you."
Glancing at the abysmal word carved on her arm, a question came out of her lips before it dawned on her what she actually asked, "Can you tell me yours scars?"
The stroking of her hair paused and Minerva seemed to have stopped breathing. She too held her breath at the notion that she had crossed some boundary. Deciding to withdraw the intrusion, she reached for Minerva's hand to say so when the older witch met her hands halfway then interlaced them before beginning her narration.
"The Grindelwald war had feed off Muggle conflict, which you know as the World War II. My family lived on the outskirts of Caithness, relatively away from the conflict related occurrences. But the effect across Europe was not one to ignore. It was almost at the end of my second year at Hogwarts when Albus, my Head House called me to his office to tell me that..."
Hermione watched the emerald green eyes became distant, obviously lost in the memory. Her pulse rate seemed to rattled in worry even without knowing the story yet.
"…Albus had to tell me that my parents and my two younger brothers, along with most of the town residents were killed— by Muggle air raids. To say that I was inconsolable… would not suffice."
Hermione inhaled sharply at Minerva's heartbreaking experience. She had never read anything about Minerva's parents or brothers. In fact, most if not all articles written about Minerva are academic related or what she had accomplished when she worked at the Ministry. During her research, any information out there about Minerva is just the standard summary of her achievements, plus that the woman has Order of Merlin First Class for two wars, which undoubtedly would become three. And so Hermione was unprepared to learn that Minerva lost her entire immediate family all at once.
"That summer, I stayed with my maternal grandfather, here at the Manor. One I never knew I had, but who seemed to know everything about me. He was working with then Minister Leonard Spencer-Moon for special tactic to help Albus track Gellert. For two months, shockingly he would let me study all the correspondence and the bits and pieces of intelligence and would even ask for my opinion."
"Was he the only family you had?"
"Him and my mother's only nephew Malcolm, has the same name as my youngest brother, but he was not around that time. My grandfather was the one to tell me that Caithness was bombed because Gellert sent the instruction to his Muggle war counterparts, as he cannot blast the place himself without giving away information of his trails."
"Why did he? Was it just a most grievous coincidence?"
"Yes and no. It was unknown why Gellert passed our town but while there, my mother— who had not used her wand for more than a decade, did so that time to create a bunker under our house. It was likely that she exercised long unspoken incantations to cast protective charms in fear that the Muggle war would eventually reach our far-away area."
"But when your mother uncapped her long dormant magic, it was extremely unstable; despite…or most specially because she was a highly-skilled witch— who had repressed her power when she married your Muggle father. The long stretch of dormancy unleashed a side-reaction and Grindelwald doubtlessly sensed the oppressed magic. Considering the point of his crusade, it possibly raged him at a realization that a magical person is secreting their power in a Muggle modest town."
"You are thoroughly reminding me of how brilliant you are." Despite of the situation, Minerva gave a half-smile. "Yes, he dreamt of conquering everyone, especially the Muggles."
"And coined it as For the Greater Good." Hermione had read that Grindelwald had a strong fascination of wielding the power of Master of Death. One he actually shared with Dumbledore but for different motivation. "He wanted to overturn the Statute of Secrecy. He campaigned that we should not be afraid to unleash our magic and let the Muggles know our powers. That it was them who should scrambled away and hide from us. For that, he amassed an army of fanatics that launched mass-slaughters, spilling into Muggle world."
"The bunker under the house proved worthless". She heard Minerva continued in a quiet voice; lilt thickening at the emotional disclosure. "Again, coincidental or not— the bombing started on a Sunday morning when they were at the church. I supposed it happened so fast that none of them managed to get out."
Hermione could feel the drifting sense from Minerva as the woman paused. For a moment she thought about what Minerva had said earlier about degrees of sorrow, of how one cannot compare, as one cannot underscore another's. She thought about the circumstances about her parents, versus Harry's, versus Minerva's. Can the gravity be measured in the context of recoverability presented to the sufferer?
Did it matter that Harry had 10 years of ignorance about the murder of his parents. Does it matter that she had her own hand in erasing her parents' memories. What about for Minerva, did her grandfather's entry in her life give her a cushioned from the tragedy? But the next words from the older woman horrified her more than she was prepared for.
"Just before Hollow's eve, Albus had to call me to his office once again. My grandfather was just killed by Gellert's followers in an ambushed. Furthermore, my last living relative — a cousin whom I've never met, could not be located for quite sometime. Technically I had to be tuned-over to the Ministry being a minor, but Albus arranged that I stay at Hogwarts until the war is over and my cousin be found."
The enormous helplessness that flooded Hermione is indescribable. She could not help but raise their intertwining hands to her lips and kissed Minerva's knuckles. The older witch just gave a sad smile and continued disclosing events in her life; one Hermione could guess that had not been spoken in decades.
"I honestly cannot remember how I reacted, but many years after when Albus and I first talked about that day, he said that I never said a word. However, we both could recall as clear as it was just yesterday how I knocked at his office the following day, to announce that I am joining the mission to capture Grindelwald."
"You did what?" Hermione breathed, her eyes widened in mixed horror and admiration. A quick mental computation of how young Minerva was at that particular period… a stunningly stubborn brave young Minerva.
"He was shocked that I knew the plans and got angry at my audacity. I never saw him angry before that, but instead of remembering my place – that I was a mere student, it only fuelled my own. I threatened that I would hunt Gellert myself and most probably get myself killed so he better just bring me in. I knew that despite having the information, Albus could very well not allow me. But then, we both knew I am bringing their plans an integral piece. "
Hermione could not believe the things that Minerva is revealing. She was trying to rummage bits of information about Minerva that she had read and heard through the years. She had often wondered how Minerva had gotten her first Order of Merlin - First Class. She found no details except that it was because of her efforts during Grindelwald's war. The record had been categorically sealed, but it always bothered her when she factors Minerva's age.
"He brought the matter to the Minister and they discussed the repercussion of employing an underage in the capacity I was meant to, in a ruthless war no less. I just turned 14 years old, and while it would not strictly violate any Wizarding laws, the grayness of it may arise to too many issues, such as potential prosecution if details come out. But no one was saying that my role would not work. In the end, my ability was assessed as essential and we were off to get Gellert."
"Is that why your heroic records are sealed?" Hermione saw the look of surprised on Minerva and she came forth honestly, "I looked, but could not find an iota of how you got your very first O.M., except that high-ranking Ministry Officers and war heroes involved in apprehending Grindelwald have stamped their attestation."
"Albus foresaw that if my role would indeed help capture Gellert, everyone involved would be effectively released of castigation - victory has the influence to excuse everything. Except me. I would be subjected under permanent 'scrutiny'. He was adamant that everyone involved make the unbreakable vow — of which can only be broken when two events make due. The first had long happened— I reaching considerable age. The second is upon Gellert's death."
"They say Voldemort killed him last year when he was looking for the elder wand? If true, the vow is done?"
"Yes and yes. And I believe there is only one wizard alive from the twenty-three who made the vow. Truthfully, the vow was almost irrelevant the last decade or so."
"Are you permitted to tell now? I mean, can you— will you tell me how you were essential to the mission?" Hermione asked tentatively, aware of the intrusion she is crossing but too curious not to probe.
"Even at that young age, I was already too adept with transfiguration. I could draw Gellert's attention to myself, which the mission requires."
"How?"
"I…" Minerva paused, and Hermione could see how the older woman is weighing her next words. "I was basically still a child but I could… wandlessly and wordlessly…transfigure myself into… Obscurus."
"Obscurus!" Hermione gasped. "But you are not an actual Obscurial?"
"No. But Gellert had been searching for Obscurial that he could possess. And I could transfigure myself into a convincing Obscurus and still have the control to cause staged havoc – exactly what attracts Gellert. And since I was in a vindictive state, my magic was swirled with enough hate that blinded him of the deception. Then as planned, Albus would capture him."
Hermione had read the account of the bloodbath that happened. How most wizards and witches that went with Dumbledore to trap Grindelwald had been severely wounded. That three even got killed because tenfold of supporters of Grindelwald showed up. Hermione's felt punches in her guts…her fast mind had immediately comprehended the unpublished part of the story - even before Minerva tells her.
"My role should have ended there, but duels erupted not just between Albus and Grindelwald. Out of nowhere, his fanatic followers emerged before I could leave. Albus bellowed to others to bring me into safety, but it was no use; multiple anti-apparations had been casted in the area. McKinnon tried to dismantle the wards to take me out, and that got him killed in the first minute. There was no choice but to fight…"
"My God…!" Hermione utters disbelievingly and her heart plunged into protest at the wrongness. Cold shivers running down her soul, twisting her guts further. The duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald had become a saga that she heard be referred too many times. But never in her wildest notion that a 14-year-old Minerva had been part of the battle of where the said duel occurred…Fighting and killing for her own life.
"I just made my 7th kill - bleeding almost everywhere when Albus finally bested Gellert. He plucked me from the bedlam, ignoring to go after those scampering away."
"Oh Minerva…" Tears have started pouring out from Hermione's brown eyes from the devastating history of Minerva. And the fact that the woman suffered another two wars is already making her hurled at the unthinkable torment.
"That's the first war for me. It costs me my family and my innocence. And left me long scar from here to here." Minerva pointed to left side of her stomach and drawing a horizontal line to the other.
The withering chronicle from Minerva had taken her in darken plight. Her thoughts are telling her that had it been her, she would have no chance at salvation. And she told the older woman exactly so. In response, she felt Minerva tightened their clasped hands, watched through tearful eyes how this time, the woman was the one who brushed her knuckles to thin lips.
"I also didn't think I would get past the experience. It had been— difficult. But it came eventually. And as luck would have it— if you can associate the term luck to such; there was a long interval between Gellert's and Tom's war. Had the latter rolled in without my head screwed in, surely I would not have lasted year 1970 - year one of Tom's first war."
Hermione shook her head in rejection of the suppositions. Her mind and heart would not accept the idea of not meeting the older witch, 21 years after that year.
On the other hand, Minerva, already buried in her reverie, carried on unveiling the scars that she had asked about.
"Tom took away my remaining family that year. Malcolm eventually turned out after Gellert's imprisonment. But he married a Muggle and lived in Muggle London with his son. Paranoid borne of the first war, he actually changed his surname into McGregor. Only in Hogwarts that his son Maddock used McGonagall.
The night the three of them were killed, Maddock had just returned to London for the summer break. They were out in the restaurant to celebrate the award he got playing for Gryffindor quidditch team. It was unfortunately; one of the early death-eaters attacks on Muggles. They told me that my cousin and nephew instead of running to safety, both drew their wands to protect Muggles against the attackers, which turned out to be too many for the two of them."
Suddenly, Hermione's mind pulled out an image of her with Harry and Ron at the trophy room looking at James Potter's gold plated inscription as seeker, that beside it was another plate with M.G McGonagall. She inwardly shook her head from side to side for committing a blatant missed-out of detail attachment about Minerva. Then as quickly, she was reminded of the devastating fact that he was one of the last relative of the older witch. Her heart compressed further at another scar exposed to her by Minerva.
"Apart from my remaining family, I also lost too many dozens of friends. I even bore witness of their deaths during many blasted battles with death-eaters. One of my assignments from the Order of the Phoenix was to trail after former workers at MLE to determine if they have been under Imperio. If so, counter the curse before any fights erupted. Unfortunately there were times that I was forced to duel with friends before I could release them from the curse. That I had to hurt them so they won't kill me."
Had to hurt friends. The endless vile things that Minerva had laid bare is making Hermione heaved. She thought of her friends, especially Harry and Ron – of needing to hurt them, and the concept is sickening to her. To curse back at enemies is never that simple - no matter how evil they are, but to fight own friends lest be killed by them is being in another inner circle of hell.
In an aching voice, Minerva continued her revelation. "The wretched eleven years were also far too long not to create vacuum of too many second-guessing… Of which actions could have changed course of things... prevented deaths… saved students and friends. Do you know that suppositions bring equal range of nightmares? A recurring of mine is of the time I left Fabian and Gideon to answer Albus' patronus charm, to hurry to St. Mungos. He and Amelia have been surrounded by death-eaters as they protected healers and patients. I would never know if by not going to them Molly would not have lost her brothers, as I would have been an extra wand— or I would have perished with them…"
The memory proved to be too sorrowful for Minerva. A lone tear breaking out from her anguished emerald eyes, Hermione involuntarily shifted herself and pulled the woman to lie down beside her. She understood the torment of second-guessing. She and Harry had even turned the compunction as part of their regular pastime while out on the run. It does give a person the type of scars that weren't there but one could see the ugliness. One could feel the burning pain. With lacerations far too deep than physical ones...
"Year after year, and duel after duels, I was convinced I would not make it. Albus and I taking turn, or together fighting or killing death-eaters that somehow we know were once our eager students. Even with their hoods and masks, the flicks of wrists were familiar; the voices reminded us how they answered in class. Every ordeal was unbearable. It was beyond me how I survived that war… More so to experience a third one… and survived it as well. Albus leaving me… I thought how he drew the shorter - or longer stick in a game called dying or suffering …"
The bleakness in Minerva became so pronounced that Hermione felt feeble to do, or to say other than "I am sorry."
Minerva took a deep breath, one that came from the deepest recesses of her weary soul. "There was no other McGonagall to be killed this last war. But it took away two closest people to me. Albus and Amelia. Both very dear to me like a family."
"Amelia Bones?" Hermione wanted to say she didn't know that Minerva and the deceased MLE Head were friends. But she realized how assuming that would sound. Then long stored information inserted into her brain, Susan Bones once swearing that their Transfiguration Professor is not as stoic outside Hogwarts.
"Aye. But we became friends at the end of her second year and I was then a fifth year… I last saw her several days after Harry's hearing. I went to question the irregularity of the full hearing for mere underage use of magic, one casted to defend one's life. I also wanted to correct the wrong information circulating about Albus. I asked her to be very cautious because Voldemort is back…that it was just a matter of time before officers like her would be in peril."
Hermione remembers how the Wizarding world taunted Harry and Dumbledore for sounding Voldemort's return after Diggory died at the tri-wizard. That summer, she hated keeping secrets from Harry but abided with Dumbledore's instruction. The confusing time surely started that school break.
"We didn't part on good footing; she was insisting that the Ministry would not disturb peace and cause panic without proof, hence inciting that we… Albus… Hogwarts are the ones making the trouble. I walked out of her house and slammed her door but not before I spat out that she had lost her brains for sitting too long at the Ministry. Few months later, when death-eaters killed her on her way home, she just came from St. Mungos— they told me she sat beside my bed for 5 hours. I was still unconscious. I only found out she was killed several days after I was released."
Could things be more difficult for Minerva...? Hermione sigh in sorrow.
"Oh Hermione, it was the same with Albus. I felt like I was stabbed repeatedly when he died. You see, I just figured out pieces of his plan and confronted him. For the first time in probably 50 years, he was not forthcoming. I was livid at him and storm out. How could I know that it was the last time I would see him alive…? If only— I know he has his portrait… but of course it's not the same."
"You miss him."
"Aye… He is— was my best friend. Except for about five years after I finished school, he had been in my life since I was 12 years old… meddling in it." Minerva let out a torn chuckle and another lone tear rolled down her face.
Hermione brushed a thumb to wipe the streak. She thought of the image of Minerva with steady hand as she pointed her wand to Voldemort, against shaking Minerva when she pointed it upwards after Dumbledore's funeral.
When Dumbledore died, it felt like the pillar under the entire wizarding world had collapsed. Only six years of knowing the man as a prominent figure, his death already gave Hermione's heart painful constrictions. How unbearable it must have been for Minerva? The woman, more than anyone else, may have been the one who had lost most. More than anyone could guess.
Hermione think back how many of the students considered that the then Headmaster and his Deputy a longtime couple. In some ways they truly are—were. She had seen the dynamics that most referred to; as Albus Dumbledore would be kept in track at just one look from Minerva McGonagall. Most are convinced that they have more than professional relationship, as no one gets away silently chastising the greatest wizard just like that. On the other hand, adults' opinions are way opposing regarding the 'couple'.
Sirius said that they coded McGonagall as M.D. (Minerva Dumbledore) when they would try to sneak out of the Gryffindor Tower. But as many adults also swore that it was never as such… Mrs. Weasley vehemently shook her head telling Ron it isn't so. Once, when she fished the info from Professor Vector, she was just laughed at. She couldn't be sure if she caught the Arithmancy Professor correctly but she heard her mumbled something like— a most contradiction. Hermione for one never thought so… But it was obvious that it was out of personal want, for it not to be.
"You love him? She heard herself asked Minerva before she could think about the question.
"I do. Very much." Emerald eyes took hold of her brown ones. "In the same depth that you love Harry."
She understood that the woman suggested friendship. Unless Minerva thinks she loves Harry like a lover— No! Her mind injected, like how you would like to love Minerva. She cleared a suddenly scratchy throat and said, "People thought…" but unable really to say the word lover to the woman, she hanged the statement.
"I know. We know..." responded Minerva in a tone of resignation. "It started year one I taught Transfiguration. People could not believe I turned down a promotion at the Ministry for a teaching post and concluded that it was about Albus. I did object that time, but the following year and the many years after, I did not bother."
Hermione did read about Minerva's outstanding work at the Ministry. The woman tirelessly revised and re-established considerable provisions and regulations at MLE all of which were deserted during the chaos of Grindelwald war. The five-year stint proved to be one of the most notable career-rise for a young witch. And Minerva was indeed promoted to MLE Deputy, but a week into the position, she tendered a resignation much to their colleagues' shock. Then a daily prophet publication approximately a month after, reported that Minerva McGonagall replaces Dumbledore for Transfiguration teaching post as the latter was selected as Headmaster of Hogwarts.
At the end of her thoughts, Hermione unconsciously voiced out. "You did not see the obligation to explain your choices."
"Albus would urge me to help him dispel it, but because his motivation is not of professional implication anyway, I just ignored it all— ignored him— much to his exasperation. Only one I ever caused him against the numerous ones he caused me. Eventually he really accepted that it doesn't matter to me, he then started to ignore it as well. Incorrigibly, he would exploit it at times when he wants to make ruckus."
"Was he always so eccentric?"
"More so as he got more old." Minerva laughed softly, evidently thinking of Dumbledore's whimsical nature.
"Ron always said that you and Dumbledore paint a strange picture. And it's a shame— " Hermione stopped mid-word and bit her lip at her slipped.
When she did not continue, Minerva tugged one of her hands in question. She slowly shook her head but Minerva tugged her hand again so she unsurely relented. "Ron maintained that you are secretly married. How it's a shame the two of you don't have children, as it would be waste of powerful magical genes." She hastily mumbled most of the sentence.
"A notion he obviously got from his brothers. They told me so one time as they tried to free themselves from detention; how Albus and my daughter would have been a Transfiguration prowess."
Hermione's mind exploded with questions, why did Minerva never marry? Or did she? To whom? But instead she asked, "Why did Dumbledore never got married?"
At the look that Minerva gave her, she feared that Minerva actually could read her true question - 'Were YOU ever married?'
"He could not marry the love of his life." Minerva eventually responded.
Hermione's eyes widened. Dumbledore was in-love with someone? And could not marry the person! "Why?" she asked Minerva. Her curiosity is unmistakable and hesitation forgone.
Minerva's forefinger touched her nose and simply said, "I'd have imagined that you would have caught on why."
Hermione face contorted in confusion. Minerva expected her to have discovered the reason why Dumbledore never got married? With the love of his life? How come? Automatically, her deductive reason switched on and crunched through details, starting with what makes her susceptible to know.
"You think I've read it? Why Dumbledore was not married?"
Minerva's face dons a pleased expression, which confirmed that she had a partially correct inference. She could also see a bit of deliberation going inside the older woman's head, clearly weighing what to tell her. "Albus gave it away through one of his testimonies."
"Surely they were not written down in plain words nor spoken as such." She utters, more to herself than to Minerva and went through the list of Dumbledore's various trial involvements. "The most published and most controversial one is that of Grindelwald."
"One I am certain that you have read." Minerva confirmed the direction of her thoughts, one she did not realized she voiced out loud.
Hermione mentally recalled the transcript she read about that trial. She couldn't remember ever words of course but she searched for any reference to intimacy, personal, passion, or affection— love.
Wizengamot: Even being noted as the most powerful wizard, one that could definitely defeat Grindelwald, which you've done so— why did it take you so long to intervened? Were you covertly harboring support for his crusade?
Albus Dumbledore: I would never condone acts of oppression. My lack of action stemmed from fear.
Wizengamot: Then why eventually agreed with Minister Leonard Spencer-Moon to join the hunt?
Albus Dumbledore: I thought of my dead sister— Ariana. And I realized how I am failing her. I have become paralyzed. Instead of allowing love to make me wiser… how it was blinding me... keeping me from doing the right thing… regardless how disheartening.
she would have been ashamed of me that I let fear paralyzed me. I could hear her say that love is supposed to make a person wiser… not be blinded with fear… to do the right thing… regardless how disheartening.
Hermione picked some significant words- Fear… Love… Wiser… Blinded… Right thing… Disheartening…
Hermione gasped. "Grindelwald!" She realized that she almost shouted what she just said and tone down, "Albus loves—loved Gellert."
"He did." Minerva quietly confirmed.
Hermione focused her gaze back to green eyes, of which reflecting great deal of cautiousness. They were no doubt gauging her reaction, waiting more of what she will say about what she just discovered… about two of the most powerful wizards… And the tragedy of it.
"Dumbledore is— was gay."
Minerva merely nodded. Hermione understood how the older witch is probably assessing any signs of diminished regard she has towards Albus Dumbledore. She shook her head in disbelief at both the revelation and Minerva's doubts. She was constructing on how to convey her sentiment without giving away intimation of her personal identity when out of blue, she was reminded of a forgotten bet she made.
The Weasley twins bet against her that Dumbledore could not be gay. This was long before she herself had realized of the same thing about herself. The only reason that she took the bet was because she found the twins' supporting argument too unsound… of how Dumbledore can't be gay as there is no evidence that he is. George and Fred owe her two dozens of butterbeers… But Fred… Fred is gone.
As much as she tried to hold it in, the tears that had already dried from her eyes had return. They rapidly slide down her face as uninvited memories of the twins barged through her mind. She started spilling her scattered thoughts to Minerva about Fred and George… or George and Fred.
The twins' smiling faces attacked her mind. Their antics to make her laugh when she had the polyjuice accident, letting her forget her unwanted tail. Or when they squeezed her in an embrace after the Yule ball to comfort her. She was then too angry with Ron for ruining her night and at Harry for being so clueless about all of it. But the twins took her for a walk to come down, again making her laugh. But now… there will never be Fred and George. Fred is gone. And George is too lost.
More tears streamed down her already wet cheeks and she made to swipe them away. She focused on emerald eyes that she could no longer see clearly from the stinging in her eyes. Hermione fought with everything she had to keep from falling into hysterical crying, from collapsing once again. Fought for clarity. Fought for a glimpse of salvation.
"I am out of my mind. " Hermione growled in defeat.
"So am I darling. Like the rest who just gotten out of war. For a while, it's harder to breathe… Harder to sleep… Harder to eat… Harder to be awake…"
"How long does this last?"
"It does end. But I will not lie to you, it will not arrive without you moving towards it."
"How could I get out of this absurd situation… where I detonate without warning…?" Asked Hermione desperately.
"You have to want to take back your life. Take control of it. Work hard for it. Hopefully one morning you wake up in a life almost as how it was supposed to be."
"How did you?"
"Less than 48 hours after infant Harry trounced Tom, Albus and I immediately delved into rebuilding the school. Staffing open posts and visiting students to return… I supposed that would be the same avenue of salvation for me." Without Albus. Two words Minerva did not say but Hermione knew for certain that were uttered inside the older woman's head. "And this time, I have a castle to re-build… Quite literally."
"I want to help repair Hogwarts."
"I know darling. But that's mine to take on. But you… you have to resume your life. One that had been suspended since last year."
A suspended life— one that in principle would not resume without Minerva in it. Salvation for Hermione is Minerva. She remembers her earlier thoughts about accepting whatever capacity the older woman extends to her. Or should she work towards attempting to be worthy of the woman?
She repeated her haphazard drafted list— Parents, NEWTS, Job, Mastery, Place to live, Projects to take on….
Then perhaps due to the draining emotional rollercoaster and or pure physical tiredness, plus Minerva's restarted soothing stroking of her hair… Hermione could not help but fluttered her eyes close.
- End of chapter 6
- Scars, Sorrows and Salvation
Several things:
I have to distort several information. Absolutely no disrespect to JK I just have to fit them into my story.
-Minerva's year of birth to 1930 instead of 1935 and her year at Hogwarts to match her 'heroism' on Grindelwald war. Or just ignore math and charge it to literary liberty.
-I have decided that McGonagall is her mother's maiden name, a wizard family name that passed on for generations. Will try to insert explanations down the story.
-I am completely erasing Elphinstone Urquart (wizard husband) and Dougal McGregor (muggle fiancé)
-Uber boosting her transfiguration magical skill. Anyway, she was transfigurng toys already when she was a baby per JK.
-Amelia Bones in Hogwarts around the same time Minerva was a student.