A/N: Thank you for reading!

For the disclaimer, please see the prologue.

Chapter Seventeen: September 1943

It was the first day of her last year at Hogwarts, and Minerva took a slow breath, committing the sight of the Great Hall to memory as the vestiges of the Sorting Ceremony were cleared away. There was something exceptional about the very first day at school, and it pained her to realize that this would be the last time she'd be able to soak it all in. At least, until she became a teacher.

"Ready, Head Girl?" Aidan slid on to the bench at the Gryffindor table beside her, grinning wildly. "Mmmm, our last first-day feast. I've got to eat everything."

Minerva rolled her eyes, smiling. "I'm ready. Are you ready, Head Boy?" It was a tradition that the Head Girl and Head Boy stayed late with the professors after the feast in order to become acquainted with any new developments that may have occurred over the summer.

"I'm going to need my sustenance," Aidan said happily, piling food onto his plate. "I'm not in the mood to deal with these professors on an empty stomach. They all seem a little on edge, don't they?"

She took a look up at the Head Table. Some seats weren't filled yet, and the professors who were there looked grim. Dippet wasn't there, which was unusual, and Professors Carter and Johnson were barely picking at their food. Madam Prewett looked like she was about to cry, and Albus' gaze was fiercely protective, sweeping over the four tables. "They don't seem normal, that's for sure."

"Maybe they're nervous after the end to last year," Michael suggested, and Minerva turned to face him gratefully. They had spent the entire summer writing back and forth, as per their agreement, and while they weren't officially in a relationship, they weren't not in one, either. Minerva often thought that love and dating were two concepts that still didn't make much sense to her at all.

"You probably have a point," Minerva agreed finally, turning to her food. "I just hope they don't stay like this all year."

"Yeah, the one year where we have to deal with them more than ever," Aidan grumbled. "Char, can you pass the carrots?" When he received no response, he asked her again. "Char?"

"It's Callum!" Charlotte squealed, pointing at the Great Hall doors. They were now open, and Dippet was leading Callum through the crowds.

"What is he doing here?" Aidan breathed.

Minerva wanted to know the answer to that herself. In an action entirely unexpected of the Head Girl, she threw herself off the bench and catapulted herself into Callum's arms. "Cal! You're here!"

"I'm here," Callum laughed, swinging her around before setting her down gently. "I'm working, though, so perhaps we can talk later, alright?"

Minerva blushed, "Sorry, Headmaster. It's been a while since I've seen him."

"It's quite alright, Miss McGonagall," Dippet chuckled. "Your brother was just telling me about some of the fun he gets up to in London. Are you planning on joining in on the fun?"

"Minnie? Nah, she'll be too busy studying for any of that," Callum snorted. "She doesn't want anything to do with London after dark."

She was so happy to see him that she didn't even tell him off for calling her Minnie. "No, I don't think I do. Callum, I'll see you after. You too, Headmaster," Minerva excused herself, buoyantly walking back to the Gryffindor table.

"So?" Michael asked. "What's he doing back?"

"It's for work, apparently," Minerva shrugged. "Probably reinforcing Hogwarts security after last year."

"Maybe he'll come and hang out with us in the common room!" Aidan said excitedly. "Just like old times. Do you think he's staying long?"

Minerva opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by the sound of Albus clinking his spoon against his goblet. "May I have your attention, please. The Headmaster has a few things to note."

"Yes, thank you, Albus." Dippet stood up to face the students. "I'm sure you're all excited for the new year ahead of us. We staff members are also eager to begin this year in earnest and put last year behind us. There'll be a flurry of activity, and I'm sure you'll all enjoy this year's events. Unfortunately, I must give you a bit of bad news first: there'll be no Quidditch Cup this year."

There were shrieks of disgust and "how could yous" to be heard throughout the Hall. Minerva was a little sheepish to note that her voice rang among them.

"How," Aidan's voice shook, "do they think they can cancel quidditch? Commentating is my job. You can't take a student's job away! It's my right!"

Minerva was too depressed to even comment on the ridiculousness of his statement. "My last quidditch match at Hogwarts will be the one where I nearly plummeted to my death. How fantastic."

"Now, now, hush," Dippet's voice carried over the noise. "Here to explain a bit more is a wonderful alum of ours, Mr. Callum McGonagall."

There were a lot of cheers and hollering at that announcement. Callum was still respected amongst faculty and the students that remembered him. For those that didn't know him personally, his pranks were legendary.

"Alright, alright, no need to applaud for me," Callum joked quickly into the microphone. "I work as an Auror with the Ministry of Magic, but today I'm here as a representative of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. It is my duty to announce that this year, Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament."

Once again, the Hall erupted, this time in amazement.

"What's this tournament?" Michael frowned. His one magical parent had died when he was young, and he wasn't often familiar with old wizarding traditions.

"Basically, there are three different schools, and one student from each school is selected to compete in difficult tasks," Augusta explained. "The winner gets a whack of galleons."

"The tasks aren't just difficult," Poppy pointed out, "they're downright dangerous. Some champions have even died."

"If I could have your attention for a minute longer?" Callum spoke again. "I realize this may come as a shock to some- well, probably all of you. With the state of the world right now, the Ministry felt it prudent to engage in foreign affairs that were a bit friendlier in nature. If you have any questions, please reach out to any of the wonderful professors here at Hogwarts." He grinned, looking out over the crowd. "This is a cool opportunity, and you can bet that if I were still a student here, I would definitely be putting my name in. You'll go down in history, it'll be so-"

"Ahem," Albus coughed delicately.

"Right! Anyways, the other two schools are Beauxbatons and Durmstrang," Callum continued, "and they'll be arriving the day before Halloween. They'll be your guests for the duration of the tournament, so make us look good, alright? You'll see some Ministry officials around now and again, purely for preparatory purposes, but we're always around for questions, too. Now, I think I've said enough. I think it's time we keep eating!"

"Min, did you know about this?" Charlotte whispered, absentmindedly slapping Aidan's hand as he tried to delve into her pudding.

"No, I haven't seen Callum in a while," Minerva pondered. "Not since Easter, actually, I don't think. He's been rather busy, and he didn't mention any of this in his letters."

"Well, he probably couldn't now, could he?" Aidan shook his head. "Probably top-secret, when you think about it. A magical tournament involving students during wartime? They're bonkers to even consider hosting it. But," he smirked, "I'll still throw my name in. Just to see how it goes."

"Aidan, you wouldn't dare!" Charlotte gasped. "Do you know what it would do to me to have to watch you risk your life all year? Merlin, Aidan, it's not worth that much money."

"I'm in, Char," Aidan declared. "Although, if good ol' Min McG here throws her name in, I don't have a chance in hell of being picked."

"Oh, Aidan, do shut up," Minerva retorted. "Whoever makes these decisions will make the best possible decision. There's no guarantee it would be me over you."

"Are you going to do it then, Min?" Michael questioned, and she felt the heat of his gaze on her face.

"I don't know," Minerva admitted. "It's dangerous, which is always more risk than I like to take...but I think it sounds fascinating."

"Poppy, you best hurry along with your healer training," Charlotte groaned. "We're definitely going to need to patch at least one of them up, at this rate."

"Min, Aidan, aren't there more productive things to be doing with your time? Rather than, I don't know, willingly risking death?" Poppy rolled her eyes.

"Yes, in fact, there are," Minerva said crisply. "It's about time we make sure the Prefects are on their way, and then we need to meet with the staff. Aidan, you see to our table and the Hufflepuffs. I'll take the other two, and then meet you at the Head Table. We'll see the rest of you back at the tower."

"Yes, mother," Augusta grumbled good-naturedly, and they dispersed. Minerva nodded at Rowena, who was herding the Ravenclaws and then at Malfoy, who was leading the Slytherins. She helped encourage a few younger students to get moving and then circled back to meet Aidan.

"You know, meeting with these professors all year will probably be worse than any task the tournament can throw our way," Aidan muttered.

"It's not so bad," Minerva offered. "I meet with Dumbledore once a week."

Aidan narrowed his eyes. "Is that where you kept disappearing every Thursday after Christmas last year? We all wondered about that, you know. Originally, you were seeing Dumbledore, but then you had that secret evil boyfriend, and then apparently, you were back to hanging out with Dumbledore. You're quite the enigma, Min."

Minerva laughed, "Yes, I was helping Dumbledore mark, just like fifth-year. Nothing too suspicious."

"Honestly, Min, if I ever find out who that boyfriend was, I'll kill him," Aidan told her seriously.

"Yes, well, I appreciate that, but there's no need," Minerva sighed. She didn't really want to tell him that the secret boyfriend -whose existence she had never actually confirmed- was really a cover for illicit Animagus lessons.

"Miss McGonagall, Mr. Scrimgeour, follow me please!" Dippet intercepted them and led them behind the head table into a darkened corridor. "This isn't the staff room, as you're no doubt aware, but it's a nice meeting room to use when we don't want to trek too far after dinner." He opened a door to reveal a well-lit room in which the rest of the staff had gathered around a large oak table. "Please, take your seats."

They settled in between Slughorn and Johnson, accepting tea when the set floated their way.

"I suppose we shall commence," Dippet began, "by talking about the rather large hippogriff in the room. I know that all of you have feelings about the Triwizard Tournament and its effect on our academic year. I can assure you that curriculum-wise, nothing is going to change. Both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are bringing their own academic staff. You will not need to worry about additional students in your classes."

"That's hardly the biggest concern, Armando," Carter said snippily. "My concern is the students' safety in all of this. Last year, a student died on our watch. Now, we're going to have to watch out for more students during an extremely dangerous competition? What were you thinking, allowing this?"

"To be fair to Armando, he didn't have much of a choice," Albus cut in, and Minerva didn't miss the glare Carter shot him. "The Ministry saw it as a way to increase school protection: with the tournament, many qualified Aurors will be around the grounds consistently. Moreover, schools do have a vote on whether or not the tournament should take place. While Armando voted no, the other institutions felt it would be a good way to keep their students safe amidst the war raging on the continent."

"So not only were we outvoted, but we had to host it because it would look utterly rude for us to dismiss their concerns about their students' safety. Or worse, bring our own students over there," Madam Prewett sighed heavily. "I suppose that makes sense."

"The decision is final, and the train has left the station," Dippet said firmly. "Tournament safety will obviously be our concern, but primarily it rests in the hands of the Ministry. Regarding our students, we will work with Miss McGonagall and Mr. Scrimgeour here to ensure that the tournament doesn't make our students more rambunctious or less cautious than normal. Isn't that right, you two?"

Aidan nodded, "You've got it, sir. No superfluous pranks or tomfoolery will be tolerated." The staff laughed, knowing that while Aidan was reliable, he had a wicked sense of humour and would more likely than not encourage such behaviour.

"Other than the Tournament, there's not too much to be aware of. As most of you know, Mr. Hagrid is living on the edge of the Forbidden Forest under the care of Professor Grubbly-Plank. He is not the concern of our Prefects," Dippet inclined his head towards Minerva and Aidan, "but there is a chance he may be seen. If that happens, please let us know which students have seen him so that we can address it accordingly."

Minerva shot a pleased look at Albus, who merely quirked an eyebrow. So he had saved Hagrid, after all. She had hoped he'd figure out a way to do that. A feeling of gratitude warmed her heart.

"Regarding the patrol schedule, it will be determined by Albus, as usual," Dippet continued, "and Miss McGonagall and Mr. Scrimgeour will step-in where required. If no one has anything else to say, I'll close the meeting."

"That's it?" Aidan hissed as everyone started standing up and saying their goodbyes. "We had to come for that?"

"It's good to meet everyone," Minerva muttered.

"We already know them," Aidan rolled his eyes. "I could be hanging out with Callum right now!"

"You'll be happy to know that I sent him to Gryffindor Tower, where he's anxiously awaiting your arrival," Albus appeared behind them, smiling. "Mr. Scrimgeour, why don't you go and greet him? I need to have a word with Miss McGonagall for just a moment."

"Awesome, thanks!" Aidan bolted out of the room, not needing a second invitation.

"Miss McGonagall, I was wondering if you would be able to visit me at some point over the next little bit?" Albus asked her.

"Of course, Professor," Minerva nodded. "Usual time on Thursdays? We can start tomorrow."

"I won't have anything for you to mark tomorrow, but next Thursday will work well," Albus offered.

"Perfect," she agreed. "What is this regarding?"

"Marking, of course," Albus flicked his eyes over at the loitering professors. It wasn't a private conversation, and he obviously had something to divulge that would be for her ears alone. "And perhaps we can resume studying, what with the NEWTs at the end of the year."

"Sounds reasonable," Minerva said. "Now, is Callum really in the tower, or did you just send Aidan off on a wild goose chase?"

Albus laughed, "No, he's really there. Go and see your brother. He's missed you. It's very evident."

She beamed, "I've missed Callum, too. It's hard to get time to see him. You wouldn't think London is so far from up here in Scotland, but with the war going on, and school of course, it's been hard."

"I know, Miss McGonagall. Go," Albus winked at her in dismissal.

Much like Aidan, Minerva didn't need to be told twice. She ran up the flights of the stairs, knowing that Callum would probably only be around for the night. Breathlessly, she tore the Fat Lady's portrait open and rushed into the common room, hands on her knees.

"Woah, Minnie," Callum grinned, "it's almost like you want to see me or something."

"Shut up and hug your sister," Charlotte laughed, pushing him towards Minerva.

Minerva met him in the middle of the room, allowing herself to be swept into his arms again. She held on to him tightly. "I missed you, big brother."

"And I've missed you." Callum pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and walked her to the group's table. "You haven't done much with the place in my absence. Looks the same to me."

"How's Diana?" Minerva ignored the jab and sat down beside Michael, allowing Callum to retake his place next to Aidan.

"Diana is doing well," Callum smiled. "Still as bossy as ever, but she likes her job, and her flatmate doesn't cause her to hate her life like the last one, so she's good."

"And Lucy?" Minerva asked. Three years later, and they were still as happy a couple as ever.

"Lucy is good," Callum blushed. "She's happy."

"No more information than that?" Charlotte quipped.

Minerva's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something, Cal. Out with it."

"Well, Lucy and I are actually engaged," Callum admitted. "Just happened last weekend."

"WHAT?" Minerva exclaimed. "Does anyone know?"

"No," he snorted. "Lucy thought you'd kill us if you weren't the first to know," Callum laughed, looking at Aidan. "And by you, I mean Aidan."

Charlotte and Minerva burst into giggles, Michael outright laughing. "Wow, Aidan, you've just been called out on your man-crush."

While his face was red, Aidan's grin was mischievous. "Hey Callum, did you know that Michael and Minnie are dating?"

Minerva's nostrils flared. "You asshole. You, Aidan Scrimgeour, are such an asshole."

Charlotte slapped Aidan's arm. "You'll never learn, you idiot. You can't just do that sort of thing."

Callum looked between them all, silent. Minerva looked at Aidan like she would take pleasure in murdering him, poor Michael was gobsmacked, and Charlotte seemed to want to disappear. For his part, Aidan looked quite thrilled. "Pleasure to meet you as Minnie's boyfriend, Michael," Callum extended his hand. Michael took it, looking nervously at Minerva.

"Christ, Callum," Minerva buried her head in her hands. "Can we go back to talking about your engagement?"

"Not quite yet," Callum relaxed back against his seat, grinning mercilessly at his sister. "I haven't yet had the opportunity to flex my 'big brother' muscle. How long have you two been dating?"

"Aidan, you're so dead," Minerva growled, not lifting her head.

"Um," Michael began, glancing at Minerva. "Well, we haven't actually been on a date yet. I was thinking of asking Min to Hogsmeade next weekend."

"Take her to the Three Broomsticks, not Madam Puddifoot's," Callum advised. "Minnie's not one for the cheery, showy type of love."

"I think I'll let her decide if she wants to go, first," Michael said slowly. "Min's also not one for having her brother dictate her love life."

Minerva lifted her head gratefully. "You have that right. And yes, I'll go with you. I wish you had asked when they weren't around," she jerked her head towards the men across the table, "but I can appreciate that these idiots didn't give you much of a chance."

"I think I'll bless this relationship," Callum smiled. "You can obviously handle her."

"I don't need to be handled, Callum!" Minerva rolled her eyes.

"I think he means that Michael knows you well enough to know what you're looking for," Charlotte interjected. "On that note, can we please talk about your wedding?"

"It'll probably have to wait until after the war," Callum sighed. "We want things to be a little more settled before getting married."

"Isn't a war a good reason to get married now? Seal the deal before?" Aidan pointed out.

"Nah," Callum shook his head. "I'm not legally tying her down to someone who is actively fighting in the war. Those old-fashioned, pure-blood marriage ceremonies are big in her family, so we have to have one. Apparently, these ceremonies are very patriarchal. If the man dies, the woman can't remarry. This way, she knows I love her, but I'm not dooming her to live alone at twenty if anything goes wrong."

"Which it won't," Minerva said firmly. "Please tell Lucy I love her, and I'm very excited about the wedding, which will hopefully happen sooner rather than later."

"That's my sister," he smiled. Callum took a look down at his watch. "Oi, I've got to get a move on. Early morning tomorrow. You'll all be seeing me sporadically throughout the year, I'm sure. I'll be around. If any of you enter, be safe, eh? Charlotte, it was lovely to see you as always," he pecked her on the cheek. "You too, Aidan. Stay out of trouble that'll get you into trouble, you hear? And Michael," Callum shook his hand again, "I look forward to getting to know you properly."

"It was wonderful seeing you," Minerva bit her lip. "I wish we could see you more often."

"So do I, Minnie," Callum hugged her, his wand arm outstretched behind her. "With any luck, I'll get to see you more this year. I'll write more often, I promise. Lucy is always on me to do better at that."

"One of the many reasons I love her," Minerva laughed, extracting herself from his arms. "Stay safe, Cal."

"You, too." With that, Callum left the common room.

"On that note, I should probably get to bed." Minerva stood to get up but found that she couldn't. "What on earth?"

"Um, Min?" Charlotte bit back a giggle. "I hate to tell you this, but Callum put some mistletoe above you and Michael."

Minerva looked up at the ceiling. Indeed, mistletoe was hanging down, gleaming at her. "I'll kill him."

"It would appear that you can't leave until you kiss," Aidan chuckled. "I can't wait to see this."

"We will not be seeing anything. You've done quite enough today, sir," Charlotte groaned. "Come on, I'm putting you to bed." She stood up and dragged her boyfriend along with her, pulling him up the boys' stairs and evacuating the common room. Now, it was empty except for Minerva and Michael.

"I'll kill Cal for this," Minerva promised. "I'm so, so, so sorry."

Michael brushed some hair out of her face. "This wasn't the way I was planning on this happening for the first time. I didn't want you to feel like you had to kiss me. I would have preferred that you want to kiss me."

"Well," Minerva shrugged, hoping she executed the move somewhat flirtatiously, "I can still want to kiss you now, can't I?"

"You can," Michael agreed. "Do you?"

"Yes, I think I do." Minerva smiled as Michael took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. It was a soft kiss, and while it wasn't as thrilling or as passionate as Riddle's, it was safe. Not safe in the "should have taken a risk" way, but safe in a trustworthy way. She was safe here with Michael, and she trusted him and was comfortable with him. That, Minerva decided, was undoubtedly better than passion fueled by a dysfunctional, emotional hatred.

Michael moved away from her mouth slowly, dropping his lips to her nose. "Think we could do that again sometime? Without enchanted mistletoe hanging over us?"

"Take me to the Three Broomsticks, not that ridiculous Puddifoot teashop, and you have yourself a deal."

Minerva's week was going well until she remembered that she had patrol duty this upcoming Saturday. Usually, that would be fine, but it was also the Hogsmeade weekend, and she really was looking forward to her date with Michael. On her way to Albus' office for their meeting, Minerva happened to come across Tom Riddle. Her heart rate raced in anticipation. She didn't want to put herself in harm's way, but if memory served, Riddle owed her a favour.

It was one she intended to collect.

"Hello, Riddle," Minerva nodded at the Slytherin. "How's your day going?"

"Much better than yours, I'm sure," Riddle snarled. They'd been back for only a week, and already there were rumours about just how mercurial his moods were. Minerva suspected his mood had something to do with the Chamber of Secrets business at the end of last term. "What do you want, McGonagall? Last I checked, you didn't want anything to do with me."

He also called her by her last name now. That was one development with which Minerva was decidedly pleased.

"If you'll recall, in February, I took one of your patrol duties for you so that you could meet with Slughorn," Minerva began, "and I was wondering if you could repay the favour for me on Saturday."

"You want me to stay here and roam the corridors so that you can go to Hogsmeade?" Riddle scoffed. "What if I have plans in the village?"

"You and I both know you don't," Minerva told him, "because you're not allowed in Hogsmeade without a signed permission slip, and you don't have one."

Riddle's eyes flashed angrily. "You want me to do you a favour, and you have the gall to insult me? After you rejected me last year?"

"I want you to repay a favour," Minerva corrected him coldly. "I didn't mean to insult you. My intention was to point out the logic in asking you to switch with me."

"Why even ask? You could go to bloody Dumbledore, and he'd change it for you at the drop of a hat. Stupid Gryffindors. Unless," Riddle smirked, "you're going to meet with Rosin for some sort of date? I bet Dumbledore wouldn't help you then."

"And why not?" Minerva asked defensively.

"Because you're his favourite student," Riddle drew the words out slowly. "And he'd hate for anyone to, let's say, interfere with his time with you."

She wanted to hex him for his audacity. "I know exactly what you're implying, and that's beneath even you, Riddle," Minerva spat. "I have no need to go to Dumbledore and ask for him to change the shifts because there's no real reason to. I will stay here if I have to, but I thought you'd at least be willing to repay my kindness. I didn't tell anyone about what happened in the Hospital Wing, and I stopped Dumbledore from going to the headmaster. If anything, you owe me more than just a patrol duty."

Riddle stared at her. "I'll do it. But only so I can keep an eye on things. Interesting things tend to happen when most of the school is otherwise occupied."

Minerva had no desire to know what he meant by that remark. "Thank you, Riddle. I appreciate it."

"And now we're even," Riddle stated. "You can't ask me for anything else."

"I can't imagine I'll have reason to," Minerva said briskly. "Have a good rest of your evening." She walked past him to continue on to Albus' office. It was only when she arrived at her destination that she realized her arm wasn't hurting.

"I think, Albus," Minerva announced joyously after he had let her in, "that I am no longer afraid of Tom Riddle."

"Oh? And why is that?" Albus pushed her tea cup across the desk.

"Because I had a conversation with him just now, and my arm doesn't hurt," Minerva stuck her arm out proudly. "Look, it's not even swollen!"

"Minerva! After the Hospital Wing, why in Merlin's name would you approach him?"

"I needed a favour," Minerva shrugged, her cheeks reddening. "Anyway, I'm fine. I'm better than fine."

Albus sighed, "While I'm happy to hear that, I must remind you that he is to be avoided. We know what he has tried with you and if our suspicions about his role in Miss Warren's death are even close to correct, you need to keep your distance. Please, be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"You make it sound as though you care about my well-being, Albus," she teased. "How very gallant of you."

"I do care about your well-being, Minerva. Perhaps more than I have the right to, but I do care." Albus met her gaze, and she couldn't quite interpret what she saw in his eyes.

"So if you care about my well-being, and you don't want me in danger, would I be correct in guessing that you want to talk to me about the tournament?" Minerva asked, hoping to dispel the tension. "Also, I would presume that the tournament is the Ministry interference of which you spoke last term?"

"Right on both counts, Minerva." Albus allowed a fleeting smile to pass over his lips. "Yes, the Ministry is interfering. Partly because of the war, as you heard during the staff meeting, but also because the Ministry wants to keep an eye on Armando after last year. We are a state-run school, after all, and the Board of Governors was very displeased."

"I'm sure they were, but a girl died," Minerva said emphatically. "That should have been their main concern. And anyway, don't they think they punished the culprit?"

"Most do, but the Minister himself is aware that their prosecution rests on very shaky ground," Albus explained. "If someone wanted to poke holes in their case, it would be elementary to do."

"And by someone, you mean us."

"Another reason for the interference," Albus agreed. "And another reason why I do not want you in that tournament. Not only is it perilous, but the Ministry will be poking around your life."

"I truly appreciate the concern, but you don't own me, Albus," Minerva replied, not unkindly. "The decision is mine to make, and mine alone. Of course," she added, "I greatly value your opinion. It does mean a lot to me. I haven't given much thought to the tournament as of yet. You know that I'm not after fame or glory. However, I have thought that the prize money would make my life as a student much easier. That's something to consider."

"Of course it is, and I wouldn't expect you to make a rash decision," Albus said, looking resigned. "I just...I can't look after you if you were to compete in these tasks. And I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you under my watch, Minerva."

For some reason that didn't make sense to her, Minerva's stomach fluttered at his words. "I understand, Albus. I do. I will make the best decision that I can for myself at the time. And if I decide to put my name in, and by some miracle, I am chosen, I hope I can count on your support."

"You'd have my support, Minerva," Albus sighed wearily, "but trust me on this: if you're chosen, it won't be by some miracle. It will be because you're the best chance Hogwarts has at winning."

Minerva didn't quite know what to say to that, so she sipped her tea before an idea struck her. "Despite what you said at the meeting, and given that it's the first full week of classes, I doubt there's much to mark at the moment. Fancy a game of Wizard's Chess?"

She knew she had successfully broken the tension when he smiled.