76. Banding Together
On Tuesday morning as he met Minerva in the corridor on the way to breakfast Albus noticed a familiar-looking scroll of parchment bunched up in her fist.
"What's this?" he asked.
"It's our new so-called High Inquisitor letting me know that she will grace me with her presence today in one of my classes," she informed him, her voice heavy with sarcasm and disdain.
"Minerva..." He didn't even get to say more than that.
She stuffed the piece of parchment into her pocket, right next to her wand no doubt. "Yes, yes, I'll behave myself as long as she does. If she thinks she can tell me what to do in my own classroom after 39 years of teaching, she's got another think coming."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Albus muttered, but he left it at that. They had discussed this at length and Minerva knew how to handle the situation.
Nevertheless, Albus felt a little nervous until he saw both Minerva and Dolores again at lunch. They looked as though the inspection hadn't changed anything about their mutual dislike for one another, certainly not for the better but also not for the worse. Though he wasn't sure if that was even possible.
In any case, he could now take Minerva off the list of his teachers he currently needed to worry about. The idea that anyone, even Dolores Umbridge, could find anything wrong with how Minerva was teaching her students had always been ridiculous. There were other ways for her to end up in the Ministry's crosshairs and most of them had to do with him.
The same could not be said for some of the other members of the Hogwarts staff. Albus believed in all of them or at least he still believed in his reasons to hire them in the first place. Not all of those reasons would be readily apparent to an outsider like Umbridge, who, on top of being judgmental, hypocritical and prejudiced, had her own agenda. It was maddening that Albus couldn't do much to stop any of it. He wondered if that was the real motivation for this Educational Decree Number Twenty-three. Perhaps Cornelius knew that threatening his teachers was worse than anything he could do to Albus himself.
Thankfully, most of the teachers rose above the insult to their person and profession and patiently endured being questioned by Umbridge. The majority of inspections went as well as they possibly could. Minerva had solved the problem of having to spend an entire lesson in Umbridge's company by telling her right at the beginning to keep her mouth shut and observe – not as amicable as Albus would have liked, but it did the trick. Filius on the other hand had no difficulty being polite and complimented Umbridge out of his classroom by the end of the period. Pomona followed Minerva's lead in a slightly more graceful manner and changed her lesson plan last minute to teaching the students about Mandrakes. As a result, everyone had to wear earmuffs for most of the time, including Umbridge. Severus was the only Head of House who hadn't been inspected yet. Albus suspected that Umbridge was either afraid of him or simply biased in favour of Slytherin house.
Ten days later Albus spotted another – unopened – scroll of parchment on Minerva's desk. Knowing immediately that it had to be the result of Umbridge's inspection, he asked, "You're not even going to read it?"
"I'm not going to read what?" She looked up from a stack of essays she was marking and snorted. "Oh, that? No, you can throw that straight into the fire."
Albus picked up the scroll and opened it instead.
Minerva's head snapped back up from her work. "What are you doing? I told you to throw it out!"
"Know thy enemy, my dear," he advised her and shot her a sly grin. "And I must admit I'm curious what she had to say about you."
"I'm not, and it's my evaluation, not yours."
"Ah, but what's yours is mine, is it not?" Albus peered at her over the top of his half-moon spectacles to gauge if she really didn't want him to continue.
She made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat and so Albus began to read and was unable to suppress a chuckle.
"What?" Minerva asked sharply.
"I thought you didn't care what it says," he reminded her.
"I guess I have to, now that you know," she said irritably. "So out with it!"
"Well, she does commend you on your extensive knowledge of Transfiguration," Albus told her.
Minerva's brow furrowed. "I hear a but coming."
"But," Albus went on with a wry smile, "she notes that your behaviour in class was alarmingly hostile..."
"Towards her maybe," Minerva muttered.
"... that you actively discouraged and even forbade everyone to ask questions..."
"Not everyone, just her, because her questions were stupid and pointless."
"... even though the subject matter was extremely complex and difficult and several students appeared to be unable to follow..."
"The students couldn't follow or she couldn't?"
"... and so she suspects that a lot of the students are actually afraid of you because you have no patience for those who are a little slow and mediocre at best..."
"Like she was as a student. I looked up her grades, she almost failed her NEWT in Transfiguration."
"... and in summation she urges you to consider that such an atmosphere of terror is not conducive to learning," Albus finished.
"An atmosphere of terror?" Minerva shot out of her chair and ripped the scroll of parchment out of his hand to read it for herself. "Oh, she has no idea what it feels like to be terrorised by me, but I'll be glad to show her!"
Albus studied the look on her face that changed from outraged to pensive. "It seems," he said and plucked the scroll out of her hand, "you had the right idea all along." He chucked it into the fire.
Minerva watched it burn to a crisp. "Do you think... are the students really that scared of me?"
That she felt the need to ask that question, doubted herself for even a second, made Albus wish he had never touched that scroll. It became increasingly clear to him that Dolores Umbridge had the kind of toxic personality that should not be underestimated.
"I think there's a difference between fear and respect. The students know you'll push them to be the best versions of themselves, which is a tall order for anyone. But I think they also know that they can always come to you for help and trust you to have their best interests at heart." He paused for a moment, weighing his words. "Now Dolores, who has always looked for that kind of respect but has never received it other than through means of crude intimidation, wouldn't understand that and she certainly wouldn't admit that you have everything she has not."
Minerva's face split into a grin. "Don't stop talking on my account. I could listen all day to you saying mean things about her."
"That may be so, but since we've just established that you are in fact a good teacher, I believe you have something more important to do." Albus nodded towards the homework assignments on her desk.
She didn't argue and gave him a quick kiss. He took that as thanks for the nice things he had said about her, which was the easiest kiss he had ever earned, because that was something he could really do all day.
Having received Aberforth's goat-shaped Patronus with some surprise, Albus shrouded himself in a Disillusionment Charm and made his way down to the Hog's Head after dusk.
"Knew you'd come right away if I told you it concerned the Potter boy," Aberforth greeted him with a grim smile.
"I will always come if you need me, but you usually don't want me to," Albus replied calmly.
Taken aback by his honesty, Aberforth busied himself with pouring two glasses of whisky for them. "I wouldn't want to keep you from doing more important things."
"I never said you weren't important to me, nor will you ever hear me say that, but as long as you refuse to believe that you are, there's nothing I can do to change that," Albus told him.
In response Aberforth raised his glass and drained it.
Albus gave him a moment before he asked, "Now, about Harry?"
"Right," Aberforth nodded, looking thoughtful. "Had a group of students in here earlier. Potter, bunch of Weasleys, that friend of his with the bushy hair and a couple more. No idea why they thought they could come into my pub and not stick out like a sore thumb."
"What makes you think that they didn't want to be seen?"
"Because they were staging a rebellion, that's what."
Albus knitted his brows in surprise. "A rebellion?"
"Don't worry, not against you. I'm pretty sure they still think you're a bloody saint," Aberforth said sardonically. "Against that Ministry woman."
"What exactly did they say?" Albus asked urgently.
"I didn't hear everything, but it sounded like they wanted to form some sort of defence group so Potter could teach them how to fight." Aberforth cocked his head. "I'm guessing you didn't put them up to doing something like this."
Albus let out a helpless laugh. "No, I most definitely did not."
He had been so focused on protecting his staff from Umbridge and protecting the prophecy from Voldemort and of course keeping Harry away from both Voldemort and himself that he hadn't really paid attention to Harry's confrontations with Umbridge. He knew Minerva had told him several times to keep his head down around the High Inquisitor, which was a textbook case of the pot calling the kettle black, but oh well. Albus couldn't put out all the fires at the same time.
Perhaps he ought to let this fire burn. He couldn't tell Harry to stop anyway. He could only ask someone from the Order to do it. Remus being the only one who stood a chance and might be willing. Albus could easily imagine the look of instant approval on Sirius' face when he heard about this. It was the kind of thing he would have done. The kind of thing James would have done. And so Harry also needed to do this. Like his godfather he didn't do well in a cage and he refused to accept a bad situation if there was something he could do about it. Even if it was dangerous.
Especially if it was dangerous.
"Did anyone seem to watch them or listen in – other than you?" Albus wanted to know.
Aberforth smirked. "Everybody was watching them. There was the ugliest witch I've ever seen, who smelled like that idiot Mundungus Fletcher. I figured he was here on your orders so I didn't kick him out like I should have. Other than that, no idea. This is a pub where people don't reveal their identities."
As it was past closing time, the room was now empty and Albus and Aberforth could talk freely. Even if there had been other patrons, it wasn't a secret that Albus frequented this pub that was after all owned by his brother. His presence wouldn't have been suspicious. Unlike a large group of students who, while technically allowed, never came in here. As smart as Harry and Miss Granger usually were, they had not considered that. They would undoubtedly learn from their mistake. The only question was how much damage had already been done.
"Thank you for telling me," Albus said. He probably would have heard about this from Sirius at some point, to whom Mundungus had no doubt reported what had happened. But he preferred to know about such things ahead of time.
"What do you plan to do about it?" Aberforth asked in return.
"There is nothing to do. No one has done anything wrong as of yet."
Aberforth's eyes narrowed. "Right. So you're just going to wait until the next good man or child is sent to Azkaban?"
Albus had expected this to come up eventually and sighed. "If me going to prison instead would help matters in any way, I would have been the first to suggest it."
"This may surprise you, but I don't particularly want any more members of my family to go to that place, and since you're the only one left, that includes you," Aberforth said gruffly.
It was his way of saying he cared, Albus knew. "I must say that's nice to hear and you needn't worry. Doing anything that Cornelius would want me to do isn't high on my list of priorities at the moment. I do have some pride."
"Some?" Aberforth echoed teasingly.
"Perhaps a little more than the average man."
"You've never been average a day in your life. You always had to do things better than everyone else – or a whole lot worse. Like drinking, apparently. Is my whisky not good enough for you?" Aberforth nodded towards the almost full glass Albus had been nursing.
The truth was that Albus wasn't much of a whisky drinker. Since the woman he loved was as Scottish as they came, he had never dared to say that out loud and he wasn't sure he should do so now either. He had a feeling his darling little brother would rat on him as soon as he got the chance. So he swallowed his drink in one gulp and grimaced.
"Pathetic," Aberforth commented, but he was grinning. "Probably for the best, though. Drinking too much whisky and gambling with people's lives don't mix very well."
Those words burned more than the alcohol on its way down Albus' oesophagus. "No, I don't suppose they do. Luckily, I'm not much of a gambler either."
"Call it what you want. If you tell people to do dangerous things without knowing if they'll come out the other side, that sounds like chance to me."
"Some things come down to chance, yes, but most of them come down to a choice. Just like you chose to tell me about what happened here tonight. If Dolores Umbridge knew about this conversation, she could easily decide to come after you as well," Albus pointed out. "Pay you a visit to check if everything in this bar is in accordance with Ministry regulations."
Aberforth shrugged his shoulders. "That little woman doesn't frighten me. She can't do anything to me unless I give her the power to do so."
Albus nodded and turned towards the door with a smile. "Exactly. And neither can I."
The question as to whether Umbridge had heard about the unusual student meeting at the Hog's Head during the Hogsmeade weekend was answered on Monday morning when Educational Decree Number Twenty-four appeared on every noticeboard in the school. Apparently, Umbridge hadn't thought it necessary to inform Albus in person this time. Or perhaps she hadn't got around to it. Considering that Harry had been in the Hog's Head on Saturday afternoon, Umbridge and Fudge had managed to react extremely fast. Albus had to give them that if not much else.
"What does she think she's doing now?" Minerva asked him at lunch once Umbridge had left the table after eating quickly. Perhaps she hadn't realised how many students would line up outside her office to ask questions about this new decree. "Disbanding all student organisations and clubs? What's it to her if the students play Quidditch or Gobstones in their free time?"
"She's not worried about any existing student organisations but rather one that was about to be formed." Albus quietly told her about Harry's secret / not so secret meeting.
Minerva put down her fork and took a deep breath. "Sometimes I think talking to that boy is like talking to a brick wall. I tell him to stop provoking her and he goes and pokes her in the eye!"
It was not lost on Albus that Minerva sounded almost envious and he couldn't help a soft smile. "Can you really blame him?"
"No," she admitted. "And this certainly explains why Umbridge was manhandling Potter's owl." Now it was Minerva's turn to explain that Potter had been looking for someone to help a wounded Hedwig earlier. "She had just returned with a letter from London," she added in a low voice.
"Did Harry tell you what the letter said?"
"No, Wilhelmina was right there so we couldn't talk openly. But even if Potter has been acting reckless, I should think that his godfather knows better than that."
Albus wished he shared her conviction. "I'm afraid as far as recklessness is concerned, the two of them are cut from the same cloth."
"Well, they better think twice about what they're going to do next, now that Umbridge has the authority to expel practically everyone in this castle. Feels like it's only a matter of time until she finds a reason," Minerva said and Albus couldn't disagree. Certainly not after the second piece of news he had received in addition to the new educational decree. "Or... has she already found one?" Minerva asked, reading something on his face that alarmed her.
"Not just yet. But she has decided to put Sybill on probation." It would have been quite amusing to watch the expression on Minerva's face if this hadn't been such a serious matter.
There was no love lost between Minerva and Sybill Trelawney, not on a personal level and certainly not on a professional one. Minerva had been in favour of removing Divination from the Hogwarts syllabus for years and had been quite outspoken about it. But now that it was Umbridge who questioned its usefulness, Minerva found herself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Agreeing with Dolores or defending Sybill... both of those options went against everything she believed in.
Albus couldn't help her solve that conundrum. He watched her being at war with herself and waited to see which side would win. Eventually, Minerva surprised him by saying, "How does she do that?"
"Do what exactly?" Albus asked, assuming she was referring to Umbridge because of the aggressiveness in her tone.
"How did she find the one member of staff you've been trying not to draw too much attention to all these years and who has no idea how dangerous it would be for her to leave Hogwarts right now."
After Minerva had learned that Sybill was the one who had made the prophecy that the Order was trying so hard to protect and that kept Voldemort from acting more decisively, they hadn't talked about it further. But her words were proof that she, being the smartest woman Albus had ever met, understood the situation and his motives perfectly without him having to explain them to her. Which did not surprise him at all.
Not for the first time it made Albus wish he could share everything else with her, everything he was keeping to himself. It would lighten the load on his shoulders significantly and help to ease his conscience. It could really help Harry somewhere down the road. And it could also put Minerva in mortal danger. And so not for the first time Albus stopped himself.
Instead, he said, "Thankfully, our High Inquisitor has no idea what she's found. For now Sybill is only on probation. There's still time for her to convince Dolores that her lessons are of worth to the students." When Albus saw the look of extreme scepticism on Minerva's face, he amended, "Or at least time to convince her that she's no threat to the Ministry. I don't know why Dolores would bother with Sybill, unless this is simply about the satisfaction of having dismissed one of my teachers."
Minerva opened her mouth to say something and then, probably realising that what she had been about to say would have sounded as though she might actually approve of Dolores' reasons for going after Sybill, picked up her fork and continued to eat without comment.
If Albus had thought that Minerva and Dolores might have found some common ground, albeit a very rocky and uneven one, he couldn't have been more mistaken. After the afternoon classes had ended and shortly before dinner Minerva burst into his office. His office door seemed to have swung open on its own at her approach, yielding to Minerva's fury. Albus wasn't surprised that the words 'Umbridge' and 'Quidditch' featured heavily in what came next. But the root of the problem was deceptively simple:
"She's refusing to re-form the Gryffindor Quidditch team! And only the Gryffindor team, not any of the others. Certainly not the Slytherin team."
"On what grounds?" Albus asked, trying to infuse the conversation with some calm.
"On the grounds that she's a power-hungry, vicious, pathetic toad of a woman!" Minerva spat, nowhere near calm.
He really didn't want to hear the answer and yet Albus had to ask, "Did you call her that?"
Minerva made a face. "Not in those words."
"What words did you use then?" Again, he didn't really want to know and added, "Did you try to ask nicely?"
"Ask nicely?" There were sparks flying from Minerva's eyes. "I don't have to ask anyone for permission for my own house to play some bloody Quidditch!"
"This says you do." He pointed at the new educational decree from this morning that was still lying on his desk.
The way Minerva glared at it, Albus was surprised that it didn't burst into flames. "I don't care what that silly piece of parchment says. If she honestly thinks that she can forbid the house of Godric Gryffindor from competing in the Quidditch Championship at this school, then she wants a war with me and she will get one!"
Albus repressed a small sigh. "This sport will be the death of me one day," he muttered quietly.
But Minerva had heard him. "It's not just about Quidditch." She paused. "All right, it's mostly about Quidditch, but it's also the principle of the matter. I haven't forgotten the need for caution, but we can't let her get away with everything. This is where I'm drawing my line in the sand, Albus. The only question is if you'll stand with me."
It was a purely rhetorical question, as they had both answered it many years ago and kept giving the same answer every day of their lives. Therein lay its true value, the fact that it was a choice and not simply force of habit, and so Minerva was right to ask him to choose her once more.
Before Albus could voice his thoughts, they heard the gargoyle down below move aside to allow someone to come up the stairs. The office door was still open and so they both kept silent, waiting.
Nevertheless, Umbridge announced herself with that strange noise she liked to make. "Hem, hem." She followed that up with a broad smile, completely ignoring the murder in Minerva's eyes.
"I see you got your copy of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. I'm sorry I didn't have time to answer any questions you might have. Then again, it's rather straightforward, is it not? I trust there are no problems?" Umbridge asked as though Minerva hadn't already told her that there was indeed a problem. It made her sound like a simpleton. Except, coming here and rubbing it in while pretending not to know any better was obviously an act of cold calculation.
"No problem at all as soon as you reinstate the Gryffindor Quidditch team," Minerva said in a tone that was a little mocking and more than a little threatening.
"I must have not made myself clear. I meant any questions that I haven't answered already," Umbridge replied, unfazed. "I distinctly remember explaining to you, Minerva, that the thought of allowing your students to play deeply concerns me."
Minerva took a step towards her. "And I explained to you that I don't care about your concerns because they are completely unfounded and biased against my house and I will not stand for it."
Before the two women could get any closer to each other than Albus deemed safe, he said, "I have a question, Dolores." She turned towards him and he continued, "I assume the purpose of this new decree is to make sure that all extracurricular activities at Hogwarts meet the appropriate ethical and safety standards? Surely there's no other reason to prohibit the students from socialising with their peers, cultivating their individual talents or improving their general fitness – which is of vital importance to their physical and mental health."
The smile on Umbridge's face looked a little strained as she searched for a response. "That doesn't sound like a question to me."
"My apologies. My question is which of these criteria the Gryffindor Quidditch team does not meet as opposed to the other house teams?" Albus clarified.
"The players on the Gryffindor team have a temperament that I consider to be unsuitable for playing such a violent sport as Quidditch," Umbridge explained, now again looking very pleased with her answer.
"Temperament?" Albus repeated slowly. "And how exactly do you judge a student's temperament?"
"Well, I..."
"Have you asked Madam Hooch for a list of incidents to prove that these students have engaged in unsportsmanlike conduct?"
"No..."
"Or did you receive word from Madam Pomfrey that these students have exhibited the kind of violent behaviour that has resulted in an injury to a classmate?"
"I don't think..."
"Do you have anything other than your personal opinion to substantiate this decision?"
"It's not my personal opinion but my opinion as High Inquisitor and that should be good enough!" Umbridge burst out.
Albus leaned forward in his chair. "I'm sorry, Dolores, but it is not at all 'good enough.' As headmaster of this school it is my responsibility to ensure that all of my students are treated equally and fairly. Banning only the Gryffindor Quidditch team from playing without any justification would mean to discriminate against Gryffindor house, as Minerva has rightly pointed out to you. I cannot allow that and so I must ask you to grant Minerva's request to re-form the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
Umbridge opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, but Albus held up a hand. "Unless, of course, you wish to cancel Quidditch altogether and thus to disband all four house teams, as is your right according to this newest decree. But I would strongly urge you not to choose that option. Quidditch is a nearly sacred tradition at this school, one that is much older than both you and I. Banning it would not only be bad for student morale, it would deprive students and staff alike of the joy and camaraderie that comes with it and forever alter the foundation Hogwarts was built on."
The room was suddenly quiet. Minerva's eyes were glowing with warmth and something that might have been pride while Dolores' mouth was hanging open in a rather unflattering sort of way.
"Well?" Albus prompted her after a minute or so. "What will it be, Dolores?"
"Under these... circumstances I suppose the Gryffindor team must be allowed to play," she managed to say. She made it sound as though they were holding a knife to her throat and so she had no choice but to be the more civilised person and give in.
That didn't bother Minerva at all. "Excellent, then I shall tell Miss Johnson to come by your office and get your signature tomorrow."
Umbridge clearly wanted to respond to that, but she didn't seem to find anything that would allow her to regain control of the situation. So she gave the briefest and angriest of nods.
Minerva watched Umbridge leave and once she was sure the High Inquisitor was gone, she shut the door and turned around to face Albus with a satisfied smile. "That was impressive. You almost made me believe that you actually like Quidditch."
"I don't have to like it to appreciate it," he said. "And you were in the right and she was in the wrong. It was as simple as that."
"Why do you say that as though it's surprising that I was right?" Minerva asked, folding her arms.
"Because you tend to get a little carried away when it comes to this particular subject, which is understandable as you're generally very passionate about the things you love and extremely protective of them. Like most Gryffindors are, I suppose. And if I'm not mistaken, we have a certain Quidditch Cup to defend." He shot her a little grin. "I believe as a Gryffindor who isn't officially allowed to take sides I have now done my part in helping us win that title again."
She looked at him for a moment longer, then walked over to him and kissed him soundly. It made Albus think he should have demonstrated his support for Quidditch a lot sooner.
It had been over a year since a game of Quidditch had been played at Hogwarts and the first game of the season in early November was highly anticipated by everyone. After she had fought so hard for Gryffindor to have the right to play, Minerva was looking forward to it immensely. But it was more than just the excitement.
There was something comforting about the familiarity of it all, about knowing that some things hadn't changed. The students were so excited that they barely listened in class anymore and the Heads of House pretended to be nonchalant but really did everything they could to ensure they would get that win. Some went further than others. Severus booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practises so often, it bordered on cheating. Minerva didn't give the Gryffindors homework and told everyone on the team to use the extra time to prepare for the game because she had put a Permanent Sticking Charm on that Cup in her office and was not about to give it up.
She didn't use those exact words, but she was quite serious. On game day she traded a few last-minute barbs with Severus in the corridor and chose her Gryffindor scarf with the brightest colours, just in case Umbridge was there to see it. Minerva really hoped she wouldn't be. She wanted to enjoy herself and one day without having to talk to that woman couldn't be too much to ask, now could it?
The game was always going to be a little dirty. All Gryffindor versus Slytherin games were. This one turned ugly fast. When Minerva had heard that Ron Weasley would start as Keeper for Gryffindor, she had withheld judgment, having never seen him play before. He did show flashes of talent here and there, but his nerves got in the way. Minerva spotted the signs immediately – and so did the Slytherins.
Usually, the Slytherin players on the field were the ones who used unsportsmanlike tactics, but this time the Slytherins in the stands started singing a heinous song that verbally abused Weasley and increased his nervousness. He thus played even worse. Minerva wondered grimly why no one bothered to issue educational decrees that prohibited this kind of despicable behaviour. But even if there were such a thing, the Slytherins would have probably been exempt.
It didn't matter. Potter was there to save his best mate and the rest of the Gryffindor team by catching the Snitch first and relatively fast, ending Weasley's misery. Gryffindor had won the game and they had proven themselves worthy of being the reigning champions. And then Potter and George Weasley jumped on Draco Malfoy and beat him up in front of the whole stadium.
Furious and embarrassed on behalf of Gryffindor house, Minerva returned to her office to deal with those stupid, hot-headed, teenage boys. She was angry, yes, and extremely disappointed, but she had a handle on the situation.
Until Umbridge showed up on the doorstep of her office.
Holding another educational decree in her hand.
And Minerva wanted to scream.
Instead, she lost her voice completely.
She also lost all sense of time as well as her appetite, apparently. She had been sitting in her chair, gazing out of the window, it seemed. Her eyes only refocused when Albus' face appeared right in front of her. He was looking at her down his crooked nose that was mere inches from her own.
"What are you doing?" Minerva croaked.
"I believe I asked that question first," he countered.
"Did you? I didn't hear you." She hadn't heard him come in at all. She also didn't know how long ago her students and Umbridge had left.
Albus pulled back a little and leaned against her desk. "You also didn't come to dinner. It was excellent. The kitchens made all your favourites since I had a feeling Gryffindor would win today."
As the painful memory resurfaced, Minerva grimaced. "Yes, we won the game and lost three of our best players... who are now banned for life."
"Or... for however long Educational Decree Number Twenty-five will be in effect," Albus corrected her. Right now it didn't feel as if there would ever be an end to this madness, so Minerva didn't respond. Albus studied her for a moment longer, then flicked his wand. "Anyway, we have more than enough leftovers, so there's no harm done by you missing dinner," he said as a plate of food appeared on her desk. "Although I missed your company, of course."
Minerva shrugged. "Might be better to get used to it now before Educational Decree Number Twenty-six is signed. It'll probably say that we're not allowed to talk to each other at all."
Albus lifted both eyebrows in surprise. "Skipping dinner doesn't become you, my dear. I haven't heard you talk like this before."
"Like what? Like a 'common teacher'? That's what she called me before she took away my right as Head of Gryffindor House to make decisions for my own students. Perhaps I deserved that, but they didn't."
"Why would you deserve it?"
"Because every time I open my mouth to put her in her place, even though you keep telling me not to, she goes running to Fudge and returns with more power than she had before. She did this because I stood up to her when she refused to re-form the Gryffindor team and made you overrule her. Just like she crowned herself High Inquisitor after I suggested that she had no idea how to teach. It won't be long now until she's deputy headmistress, too, though at this point all that's left for her to take is the paperwork."
"It sounds to me as though she already took a lot more from you than that or you wouldn't act so defeatist," Albus replied.
That word shocked Minerva into trying to defend herself at least a little. "You were the one who didn't want me to oppose her!"
Albus pushed off her desk and moved closer to her again. "I wanted you to be smart about it. I wanted you to pick your battles. I didn't ask you to admit defeat. Not to Dolores Umbridge. Not to anyone. Quite frankly, I never thought it possible. Minerva McGonagall does not give up."
He lightly tapped her chin so she would lift it up and their eyes locked. The heat that sizzled between them told Minerva that she still had some fight left in her yet.
"Thanks," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching, "for the reminder."
"As always, I am at your service, my love," Albus responded smoothly.
A second source of heat appeared in the air next to them in the shape of a phoenix feather. Albus caught it and then slowly walked over to the window. Minerva could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "It seems we finally have our gamekeeper back."
She rose to her feet and joined him by the window, slipping her hand into his without feeling the need to say anything. Seeing the light in Hagrid's cabin filled her with relief. Also a little worry because the half-giant and Umbridge would take to each other like oil to water. But for that very reason it was good to know that there was now one more trusted friend in the castle who was on their side.
A/N: One chapter, two educational decrees, hurray. Perhaps next chapter I can get away from Umbridge for a bit. We'll see. Turns out she's everywhere in book five... Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you have a good weekend and if you want to make mine even better, leave me a review.