When her eyes opened, Minerva very nearly closed them again. It took only a moment for her to remember that the reason she was so exhausted was that she hadn't come to bed until late last night, and the reason she had been so late coming to bed was because she had been up until nearly two, with Severus, Filius and Pomona, trying to rework schedules. And failing miserably. And growing increasingly short-tempered as the night wore on.
...she has you by the balls until she tells you if you have the Defense position, Severus, and we all know it. So quit trying to kiss her ass when it isn't even present...
She grimaced inwardly; had she really said that to Severus? She owed him an apology. More than one apology, actually, if memory served her. And he wasn't the only one she owed an apology, just the one most likely to receive it any time soon. With a groan, she forced herself out of bed and into her dressing gown, casting a look at her clock. Eight o'clock.
Turning towards her bathroom, she stopped short when she saw the tray of breakfast on the table, a folder beside it. She flicked open the folder and peered inside, her lips tightening slightly as she recognized the parchments for schedules. There was a hand-written note as well, folded twice and sealed with a rich, purple seal.
Professor McGonagall,
Please find enclosed your schedule for the coming year, as well as the schedules for the Gryffindor students. Look over them, and let me know if there are any conflicts that you see.
Also, I will be expecting you in my office at ten this morning—you and I need to have a little chat.
R. Malfoy.
"A little chat indeed," Minerva snorted softly, dropping the parchment back onto the table. At least it didn't appear as though the new Headmistress intended to sack her, else she wouldn't have bothered including the schedules.
Two hours later, Minerva was standing at the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmistress' office. "Willow warbler," she recited, guessing that if the password had been changed she would have been told what the new one was. As it happened, the password had not changed, apparently, for the statue moved suddenly, revealing the spiral staircase behind it. Stepping through the opening, Minerva folded her hands neatly while she waited to be conveyed to the top of the tower. When the stairs came to a gentle stop, she stepped from the passage into Regalia's office.
Immediately she was greeted by a swoop of color which came to rest on her shoulder and cawed loudly into her ear.
Ridiculous thing, she thought sourly, offering the bird a finger to climb onto. The bird obligingly settled onto her hand, and she brought it around so she could face it. It was actually a beautiful bird, if she was honest about it, but she had general objections to the tropical birds flying freely through the castle. Well, through Malfoy's rooms. And why did that matter, anyway? Was it really any worse than the owls?
"Go on," she muttered, lifting her hand, and the bird took flight again, flashes of crimson and gold peering from behind the brilliant blue feathers.
"Ah, Professor McGonagall. Have a seat."
Minerva turned to regard the young Headmistress coolly, but obeyed, seating herself primly in a chair upholstered with black velvet. Seemed that the Headmistress was fickle regarding her belongings—where the previous two days her office and sitting room had been drenched in the rich tones of a jewel box, this morning the room looked much more out of place in the old castle.
The bookshelves were black, as was all the furniture, and the graceful Queen Anne table which had held the charmed folder the last time Minerva was here had been replaced by a boxy black table that gleamed as though coated with glass. Despite the general theme of black in the room, though, it was neither dark nor sinister looking. Color graced the bookshelves in the form of brilliantly-hued books, and the walls were a deep crimson with gold scrolls along the ceiling. A vase of white lilies stood in one corner, and candles burned all around. There was a gentle sound of running water, and after a moment, Minerva found the source: a fountain. The room seemed exotic, and the birds less out of place.
Regalia wore black as well—an almost liquid black silk robe with a crimson sash, and though Minerva wouldn't have thought that a woman so pale would have been able to carry off the dark color, she did not seem washed out by the contrast. But then, there was a good possibility that the young woman would look elegant in a flour sack. Give it fifteen years, girl, Minerva thought uncharitably as she settled herself.
Malfoy was settled as well, her charmed folder nowhere in sight. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Professor?" she asked, and Minerva shook her head.
"Thank you, no."
"Very well. Do you know why I asked you to come?"
Minerva lifted a thin eyebrow. "Presumably to tell me that my behavior last night was inexcusable," she replied tightly.
"Ah. Yes, well, I rather assumed you knew that at the time," Malfoy said, lifting an eyebrow of her own. "Or if not last night, then certainly this morning when you woke. No, Professor, I did not call you here to discuss your words last night."
Minerva was taken slightly aback. "Then... you're not intending to place me on probation?"
"No, Professor. I am not." Malfoy sighed. "For the love of Merlin, I wish everyone would just accept that I am not Dolores Umbridge, and even if she was too much of an idiot to know that she could not run a school effectively without teachers, I am not. I'm not dismissing anyone without a good reason. And I'm certainly not going to sack you because you think I'm a bitch. You are entitled to your opinion, Professor McGonagall, though I will ask you to refrain from voicing it once the students have returned."
Minerva blinked a few times. "Then why am I here?" she asked.
"Because I was hoping that we could reach an understanding of sorts," Malfoy replied.
"Excuse me?"
"I'll be blunt, Professor. I can barely find my way from the Great Hall to the Hospital wing without getting lost three times and offending two paintings. I have every confidence that I can muddle through this alone, but I prefer not to. I prefer to be able to turn to someone who has more experience, who knows something about the castle and the staff."
"Likely a wise move, Headmistress." Minerva crossed her legs at the knee and leaned back in her chair, watching the young woman carefully.
"Please, I was quite serious last night when I told you all to call me Regalia."
It didn't take a genius to see that the Headmistress had just maneuvered her into a rather uncomfortable position—there was simply no chance that after receiving such an invitation Minerva could avoid extending the same. "Very well, Regalia," she replied, resigning herself to the fact that the next time Regalia Malfoy spoke her name, she would have to insist on the use of 'Minerva'.
"Thank you."
"I will, of course, answer any questions you have. You need only ask."
Malfoy was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Very well," she said. "What do you think of Sybill Trelawney?"
Minerva blinked at that. What did she think of Sybill? Well, it depended rather heavily on what Sybill was prophesizing at the moment. When the Divination Teacher was seeing death and destruction in every dirty teacup, Minerva had a difficult time not rolling her eyes. At other times, the woman could be quite likable. "In what sense?" she asked carefully, her lips still tight.
Malfoy laughed softly. "That probably tells me as much as anything," she commented dryly. "As a colleague, let's say."
"I will not suggest you dismiss anyone on staff, so if that is what you are..."
"Did I not say very plainly that I am not dismissing anyone without good reason?" The Headmistress lifted her wand and a moment later, the charmed folder came sweeping into her hand. "I simply want to know what you think of her. Since you have such strong opinions."
Minerva sighed softly. "I think she's irritating and ridiculous," Minerva said finally. "And I think that it is scandalous that this school offers such a nonsensical class in this day and age—it's positively medieval. However, given my overall opinion of subject and instructor, I must admit she doesn't do a bad job of it, and her students seem to gain OWLs regularly, though what good it does them I can't fathom." Adjusting her spectacles, Minerva peered down her nose at Malfoy. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Mm. Yes." Malfoy was peering into her folder again and flipping past pages. She paused at another piece of parchment. "And Rubeus Hagrid?"
Minerva's eyes narrowed. She didn't know where Malfoy was going, but the little princess had best stay clear of Hagrid. "Hagrid is a loyal teacher," she said tightly. "He is something akin to an expert in his field, and he is a beloved member of the faculty." She leaned forward, her eyes flashing a challenge to the young Malfoy. "If he has a fault, it is that he is too trusting of others. He is most decidedly not a target for your arbitrary..."
"I am not considering dismissing him. Here..." Malfoy waved her wand, and, to Minerva's simultaneous amusement and irritation, a glowing ribbon of light looped into an elegant script above the Headmistress' head. It blinked red and gold. 'I am not intending to sack anyone.' After a minute, Malfoy flipped to another page and glanced up. "And Rolanda Hooch?"
"She is an excellent flying teacher," Minerva replied succinctly. "She is stern and unyielding with the students, and level-headed, and they obey her. Even the ones who don't obey anyone."
"Very good," Malfoy murmured, and then flipped to the front of the folder again. She paused, spending a moment reading over something, then pointed her wand to the table beside her. "Accio quill and ink," she said softly, and the accoutrements appeared on the table. Uncapping the ink, Malfoy dipped her quill into it, then looked at Minerva again. "And Severus Snape?" she asked.
Minerva lifted an eyebrow. "He is a difficult man to understand. More difficult still to explain."
"Good enough," Malfoy said softly. "So let's try another tactic. Professor Snape has applied for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and I see that this is a request Professor Dumbledore has denied nine times. If you were in my position, would you grant him this position?"
Minerva exhaled sharply. She'd known something was coming, but she really wasn't expecting this. And, how to answer? Truthfully? Very honestly, Minerva could say without a twinge of doubt that she would most certainly not put Severus in the Defense position, but was she really prepared to tell Malfoy that? It seemed almost like choosing sides against Severus. After a long, contemplative silence, she finally sighed and frowned. "No," she replied softly. "I would not."
Malfoy nodded. "And why not?"
"For one thing," Minerva said softly, "because you'd never be able to replace him as a Potions professor. He is much better qualified for Potions than for Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Yes," Malfoy said softly. "I had considered that. It does seem a rotten reason to deny him something he so obviously wants, though."
Minerva nodded. "It does," she agreed.
"Are there other reasons?"
"Well, I know this does not carry much water with you, but it means a great deal to me. Albus Dumbledore has consistently denied him the position. I don't know what the Headmaster's reasons were, but it is enough for me that he had such strong objections that he would say no that many times. Albus cared for Severus like a son," she added softly. "Trusted him implicitly. I can't imagine what would make him so adamantly opposed to Severus in that position, but I can't help but imagine they must have been very good reasons."
Malfoy frowned. "I just wish I knew what they were," she muttered. "I hate doing or not doing something because someone else did or didn't do it."
Glancing around for a moment, Minerva leaned forward. "Albus said he thought it would bring out the worst in Severus, though your guess is as good as mine with regards to precisely what that means," she confided, forgetting for the moment that this woman was her sworn enemy. And, in reality, Minerva had a fair enough idea of what that statement meant, though she couldn't have expressed it, even if she was willing to give away Severus' identity.
Malfoy sighed softly and thumbed through the parchment in her folder. "If you could have anyone in that position that you wanted, who would it be?" she asked.
For a moment, Minerva hesitated. This could simply be another ploy on the part of Regalia Malfoy to win allies. Or it could be any number of leading questions. Minerva tried, briefly, to think like Malfoy, but she couldn't even begin to imagine where the question might be leading; that she knew it was likely leading somewhere was almost a miracle. And, yet...
The entire faculty had been abuzz for the last two days about the things that Malfoy had accomplished, and telescopes and crystal phials weren't the half of them. It was odd, having a Headmistress who was dedicated to the school above and beyond anything else—and how do you know that's true, Minerva?—and, perhaps Regalia Malfoy could, indeed, pull off miracles. And Minerva knew she would never forgive herself if she did not seize this opportunity. "Remus Lupin," she answered finally. "He was the best we've had in ages, and many of us were quite distressed to see him go."
Malfoy's forehead creased into a frown. "Professor Dumbledore's notes indicate that he left for health reasons..."
"In a roundabout way, yes," Minerva replied. "He's a werewolf. News of that... slipped out among the students."
"A werewolf," Malfoy repeated softly, breathing deeply. She tapped her quill against her parchment for a moment, obviously thinking quickly.
"He is no danger to the students so long as he takes the Wolfsbane potion," Minerva offered, and Malfoy cast her eyes towards the Deputy Headmistress.
"I presumed he was no danger, since you recommended him," she said dryly, then, after a moment, "Do you know how to get in touch with him quickly?"
"Yes," Minerva said, frowning slightly. "But why...?"
"I told Professor Snape that I would have an answer for him tomorrow, and I intend to keep that promise if I can. Which means I need to speak with this Remus Lupin today, if possible."
Minerva nodded slowly. "I am sure I can arrange that," she said softly.
Malfoy stood abruptly and walked to her desk, opening a drawer and taking out a piece of parchment. She skimmed it quickly. "And do you think you can arrange letters of recommendation?" she asked, and Minerva turned in her chair, frowning slightly.
"How many do you need?"
"As many as possible. Real ones, Minerva. People who are not afraid to have their name attached to such a recommendation."
"Will two Aurors, two members of the Ministry, a former Headmaster and three current Professors suffice?" Minerva asked softly.
Malfoy tapped her finger on her desk for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Yes," she said after a moment. "I believe that might just work."
Minerva stood. "What time do you want Remus to be here?"
Malfoy glanced at the clock. "Do you think you can manage it by noon?"
Minerva glanced at the clock as well. It was already a quarter till eleven. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Yes," she replied. "Yes I can." If Regalia Malfoy could be prepared to interview Remus in an hour, Minerva would have him there.
"Excellent," Malfoy said softly. "And can you have the letters of recommendation here by four, do you think?"
"I don't know if I can have them all here by that time, but I can try."
"Good. And, please instruct whoever it is that is writing them to pretend that they are unaware that Mr. Lupin is a werewolf. No need to flaunt that to the Ministry."
Minerva paused for a minute, watching as Malfoy began writing something. "You mean to deliberately mislead the Ministry then?" she asked softly. It was too much to hope for.
Malfoy smiled brightly. "Mislead them?" she asked. "No, Minerva, I will tell them to their face everything they need to know. There will be no misleading. I have need of too many other favors from them, most likely, before I will be able to mislead them openly. That, I fear, is a card I intend to save for a more crucial moment."
Glancing over Malfoy's shoulder, Minerva watched as the quill smoothly formed long strings of what amounted to political jargon. Pursuant to Article IX, subsection 453-b of the Ministry of Education's Fourth Treatise on the jurisdiction of acquiring of new employees, I, Headmistress Regalia D. Malfoy formally present this proposal...
Raising an eyebrow, Minerva considered that perhaps the reason Regalia Malfoy accomplished so much so quickly was that she seemed to speak the language of bureaucracy. Minerva left her to it, slipping quietly out of the Headmistress' office and promising to herself that if Regalia Malfoy managed to get Remus a position on staff, she would personally shine the woman's shoes every morning. The price of her loyalty, it seemed, had been found.
A/N:
Incidentally, Silverthreads, yes, I do have a plot in mind, but it's surprisingly flexible. I have no intention of forcing a romance. Though I could coax one out. I know how it will end and several intermediate steps, but all of them are entirely independent of any relationships within the story, and I think I could pair up anyone in the world and come out with the same ending.
LinZE: I thought Minerva restrained herself remarkably, actually. She really wanted to hit Regalia, but I wouldn't let her. And, it's worth noting that even if she was griping, she was obeying. That counted with Regalia, too, as evidenced by this chapter.
Sior: wouldn't write Regalia off if I were you. She is a Malfoy after all.
I'm really loving the shifting opinions of Regalia by the way. It's priceless!
--Jen
