Falling Into an Arrangement
Chapter Two
Minerva McGonagall being who she was undertook her husband selection with great enthusiasm and thoroughness. She sat in her office a week later studying a calendar upon which were many hand scribbled notations. It was her schedule of dates - dinner, concerts, luncheons, the theater and so forth. Each type of date was of course color coded for ease of reference.
As become habit, Poppy looked in. "Good morning! Which chaps are on the schedule today?"
"Only Peter Gillington for dinner." Minerva transformed one of her typical stiff back chairs into the stuffed armchair her friend favored.
"Your chair in the hall is gathering dust. You're hardly ever there." Poppy slid into her chair.
"It will be over soon. I have reduced their number to four."
Poppy laughed out loud. "Finally! Which ones?"
"Peter, Nigel Crampton, Atticus Dimworth and Cecil."
"Cecil has stayed the course, eh?"
"He's familiar, pleasant and very good company."
A voice floated in from the open doorway. "How can you judge a marriage prospect on such paltry attributes?"
"Good morning to you too, Albus," Minerva greeted. "You're in a mood so I will not cross swords with you this early in the day."
Had Albus more experience with Minerva's true moods he would have caught the slight warning edge to her voice. As it is, he missed it completely. Poppy did not. She covered her eyes with one hand and braced herself for the imminent explosion.
Albus persisted with his question. "Are you really using such shallow standards in choosing a husband?"
"You are mocking me! You are!" Minerva stood up so suddenly that her chair fell to the floor behind her. "If you cannot be supportive of my decision, then say nothing!"
"I would never mock you." Albus held out his hands to her. "I've explained that you do not need to do this to appease the governors nor to secure the deputy position. I choose to have no other in the position but you. The governors will yield. I will make sure they do."
"This isn't about the governors! This isn't about the school! This isn't about YOU!" Minerva took a deep breath to calm herself. She looked at Albus straight on. "That day in your office with Cecil I finally realized what I want. After all this time and everything I've done, I find that I want a very simple thing. I want to find someone, to be with someone, to belong to someone. Can you not understand that?"
"It should not be like this." Albus replied quietly. "That is all I am saying."
"Men have the luxury of time and the convenience of selection. By the dictates of biology and the whims of society, a woman has neither."
"I simply do not understand your haste in this matter."
"Men do not make a habit of adoring me in droves as women do to you." Minerva quirked an eyebrow at him. Albus' cheeks reddened under her regard. "All the staff know of the owls you receive from those of the female persuasion."
"And of the oftentimes questionable contents of their posts." Poppy teased. "How creative some of those women are."
Albus spluttered. "That is quite different than Minerva's list."
"Save for quantity I see no difference." Minerva pointed out. "You are unanimously the most eligible adult bachelor of our world for what ten years running now."
"Eleven." Poppy added.
"This is my chance and I am not letting it slip away." Minerva insisted. "These men are not entirely disagreeable. I am sure that one of them will suit me well."
"Do you love any of these men?"
"In time, with the right person, affection can blossom into love." Minerva declared.
"I believe that one should only marry for love. It is for that reason that I have remained unmarried." Albus stated. "But I see that my advice is falling on deaf ears this morning. Very well, ladies, I shall depart and await you at breakfast."
The door shut behind the headmaster. Madam Pomfrey looked puzzled. "I have never heard you two talk to each other like that before."
"We have gotten into more spats these few weeks than in all the time I've been here."
"He cares, Minerva. We all do."
"I just wish he would try to see my side of this."
"Arranged marriages are quite common. My parents were very happy." Poppy said.
"So were mine. Father adored mother so. To my mind, an arranged marriage is a far better alternative than being lonely. If not love, then I shall be satisfied with respect, companionship and, I hope, friendship."
Minerva rushed down the staircase just as dinner was to start. Her high heels clicked on each step. She wore a black, knee length sequined sheathe dress that fitted her graceful silhouette. Her long dark hair was done up in a sophisticated chignon. Several teachers noticed her descent. More than one admiring comment reached her ears.
Minerva waved them off casually as she made her way to the front doors and the other teaches proceeded to the Great Hall. Albus was coming in through the main doors as she was making her way out.
"Minerva!" He called out.
"Albus. I have to go. Excuse me." Minerva rushed past him avoiding eye contact. After their early morning row, they had studiously avoided each other.
Albus held the door open for her. "You are lovely, my dear. The dress suits you."
The comment caught her attention but it was the soft almost tender look in his eyes that froze her where she stood. "Thank you. Peter said we were dining at a muggle restaurant. I wanted to blend in."
"Lucky Peter." Albus laid a hand on her shoulder. "Minerva, I am truly sorry about this morning."
"Already forgotten. I must learn to control my temper."
"No, do not do that."
"Why not? It gets me into so much trouble."
"There is no need for you to change." Albus squeezed her shoulder lightly. "You better go before you are more than fashionably late."
"Oh, right, yes." Minerva hurried down the steps and boarded one of the waiting thestral coaches. Before closing the coach door she called smiled brilliantly at him and called out. "Good night, Albus!"
Albus watched the coach as it disappeared down the long drive. He summoned Sir Nicholas to his side. "Sir Nicholas, wait by the gates for Minerva tonight. Make sure she returns safely and that she does not see you."
"The usual precautions, headmaster?"
"Yes. If she has not returned by midnight let me know."
"She is quite fetching tonight." The ghost observed.
Very womanly. That boy better appreciate her efforts or ... or. Albus shook his thoughts away. He went back to his office to see to more paperwork.
Big Ben chimed nine o'clock. People strolled through the muggle park in pairs or groups. The after dinner crowd, Minerva mused as she watched from a well-worn bench by a quietly gurgling fountain. Her dinner date was a disaster. She came to the park to compose herself before returning to Hogwarts.
A middle-aged couple holding hands walked in front of her. She could hear their soft voices carrying across the still night air. They spoke of mundane things in their lives like work and children but underlying their tones was an easy intimacy. She envied them their ease with each other. Why is it so ... so easy for some people to find someone. I'm only looking for one, no more than one. Why is it so hard?
Minerva stood up and moved to lean against the railing overlooking the river below. The lights of small boats twinkled above the waters. She stared at the lights and let her mind wander as it had during dinner. Albus' words reverberated through her mind. I believe that one should only marry for love. Love was all around her. She could sense it, feel it. Love is for lucky people. I suppose I've used up my luck as an auror all those years. What do I do now?
Minerva pulled out the list from her purse. The list of contenders was shriveling. Peter, though a fine conversationalist, possessed a braying sort of laugh that had grated on her nerves all throughout dinner. She had gritted her teeth so hard after every laugh that she had given herself a migraine. No, I could not listen to that laugh for the rest of my life. I'd sooner face a squad of hit wizards first.
A small sigh escaped her lips just then. Perhaps, Albus was right to question her motives. Albus is a man. How can he know that the world as he knows it operates very differently for a woman. A woman has fewer choices, less time to wait for love to come calling on her. A woman has to be practical. I have to be practical.
The word "practical" reminded her how far behind she was on her lesson plans for the incoming class. She had changed the standard transfiguration textbooks for sixth years and above earlier in the summer but she had yet to modify her lessons to accommodate the new material. Her spirits sagged even lower as guilt swept over her. I'm a failure as a woman and now I can't even do my job properly. It's a wonder Albus hasn't said anything.
With her thoughts still on the headmaster, she began to walk down the path looking for a darkened spot to apparate from. Merlin! He has noticed. He must have. Why else would we be arguing so much? He's too much the gentleman to yell at me for doing less than what is due to the school. Well, that's that. No more time consuming, boring dates, girl. Choose between Cecil and Nigel and be done with it. You owe the school your undivided attention. Albus can't run everything. He needs me.
She apparated back to Hogwarts. She vowed to spend the rest of the night completing her lessons.
Minerva marched to the kitchens intent on securing a large pot of tea and some biscuits to hold her through the long night of lesson planning. While she was slicing a sandwich to add to her biscuits, Albus came in holding his cocoa mug. She noticed the mug and smiled at him. The mug had been her present to him last Christmas.
"Minerva, you have returned early." Albus said.
"My date did not go well."
"I see." Albus noticed the large teapot and biscuits. Albus filled a kettle with water and set it to boiling. "Did you have dinner?"
"If I did, my stomach doesn't seem to remember." Minerva went to the cupboard and pulled out his usual hot cocoa ingredients. Wordlessly, she handed each item to Albus who proceeded to put a few tablespoons of this and that into the kettle.
Albus opened another cupboard and pulled out a jar. He opened it and put a few cookies on Minerva's dish. "Have some of these."
"Albus, I've told you how many times that I don't have your sweet tooth." Minerva peered curiously at them.
Albus chuckled. "I sampled them in Hogsmead over the last weekend. They are called ginger newts. Tasty but not terribly sweet." He held out a cookie to her. "Here try a piece."
The cookie was held out to her across the low table between them. Minerva leaned over a little and took a small bite. As she bit down, they made eye contact. She straightened up savoring the taste exploding on her tongue. Her eyes twinkled in merriment. "Hmm. Quite good. Delicious in fact!"
"I thought you would like them." Albus grinned back at her. His hand was still stretched out holding the cookie towards her.
"Do you like them?"
"They will do in a pinch, but only in a pinch, a desperate pinch."
"That sweet tooth will be the death of you!" Minerva laughed. She took the rest of the cookie from his fingers and held it out towards him. "One good turn deserves another. Open please."
Albus obeyed without hesitation. Minerva dropped the rest of the cookie into his open mouth. She pushed his chin up closing his lips. As her hand brushed across his lips and beard, a few telltale crumbs fell away. "Albus, you have been snacking again."
"Just a little something to go with my first cup of cocoa."
"Poppy has warned you about your sugar intake."
"I will have you know that Dumbledores have an inherited sweet tooth and, I firmly believe, a longstanding immunity to too much sugar."
"Is that so?"
Albus implored. "How can one take cocoa without cookies? It is unnatural, sacrilege like ... like strawberries with no cream or sherbets without the lemony tang."
"I suppose I can bend the rules just this once." Minerva grinned. "Life is more enjoyable with our little pleasures, isn't it?"
"Well put, professor McGonagall, and very true." Albus replied. He poured cocoa into his mug while Minerva replaced her biscuits with several ginger newts.
The professors left the kitchen bearing their snacks. Their easy conversation continued until they parted heading to their own chambers. Neither one took notice that their steps seemed lighter and their hearts less heavy. They attacked their work with renewed vigor.
The next day on the front page of the Daily Prophet was the announcement of Minerva McGonagall's promotion to deputy headmistress. The photo accompanying the article was of Minerva standing behind a seated Dumbledore. They were both smiling.