Episode Fifty

Part One

            The holidays ended without incident, something Gwen was highly relieved about. She was still grieving for her mother, and asked Minerva if they might not take a little vacation to see her burial in France. Of course, this was simply out of the question.

            The death eaters had made an open attack on Hogsmeade and the atmosphere had decidedly shifted to one of mistrust and fear.

            Gwen refused to see the practicality of her godmother and now official guardian. Which raised an interesting question in her mind. Why weren't her Aunt Ann and Uncle George made her custodians? Did her mother hold something against them? She had trusted them with her life once. To tell the truth, she wasn't even sure if they were still alive. Neither her nor her mother had received any news from them in years.

            Maybe, she guessed it was because Hogwarts was the safest place to be in the world. While Aunt Ann was a capable witch and Gwen herself had proved resilient, it didn't hurt to have that extra layer of protection only Hogwarts could offer.

Part Two

            Gwen needed a new wand. She had long ago been taught to apparate by Dumbledore, a practical method of escape and surprise for a DADA teacher. He had worked it out with the ministry so that she could take the test, even though she was just shy of being the legal age. She had passed her test flying colors months ago and decided she would walk to the edge of Hogwart's grounds with her godmother in tow and apparate to Diagon Alley.

            They chose the first evening after everyone had arrived back from their vacation and were not present at the returning feast. They spent the evening trying on new wands for Gwen (who ended up with a unicorn hair, mahogany, 8 inches), a new robe for Minerva and quite a few drinks for both at the Leaky Cauldron.

            It had been a while since Minerva had let her hair down, literally and Gwen thought it made her severe features appear much softer in the dim light of the bar. It felt strange to be drinking with her professor but then again her dream life had prepared her for this. The theatre department she had worked in was a very open one and the professors often came to student's parties to drink and get down.

            The two women talked about Beorc and Gwen laughed at the thought of her mother as a first year Slytherin giving McGonagall guff the very first day of classes.

            "Oh she was a handful. And your father, what a handsome boy."

            Gwen nearly fell off her stool to see McGonagall blush.

            "Well," she rushed to explain. "I was still a very new teacher just then. I had barely just graduated from Hogwarts myself when I decided I wanted to teach transfiguration. I'm not as old as you think."

            The younger woman smiled. "Of course not, Aunt Minerva. Why didn't you ever marry?" She asked suddenly. The thought had crossed her mind before, but she'd never had the opportunity to ask.

            "I was married." She stated. "Briefly."

            "To whom?" Gwen asked fascinated.

            "To a muggle man. He didn't know I was a witch until after we were married and it was far too much for him to handle. We annulled the marriage immediately."

            "Does that make you sad?" She ventured.

            "No, it was long ago and I only regret that I had not told him sooner."

            "Why didn't you marry again?"

            "I don't know. I suppose I had no desire to after John left."
            "John."

            "Sometimes I wonder what he's up to now. I let him go, no hard feelings, but he never spoke to me again. Some people just can't understand what it's like to be different." She took a sip of her drink. "But you do, Gwen, don't you?"

            Gwen laughed. "I do indeed."

            "So, do you think you'll marry?" Minerva said, turning the tables on her charge.

            "I dunno. I'm pretty young still. Besides, boys just confuse me and I think I'd end up outliving all of them."

            "What would make you say that?"

            "Well, most of my family seems to die at the opposite end of a wand. None of them have keeled over because of old age and Gemma's hell, Gemma's my great-great-grandmother and she looks like she's in her thirties."

            "I never even thought about it like that. You probably have some longevity if you can avoid being…"

            "Killed. It's ok. You can say it. I'm not scared anymore, just annoyed."

            Minerva looked at her with a mixture of admiration and disbelief spread over her face.