Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters and settings belong to me. They are all the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just playing around with them for the fun of it…no monetary gain is sought.
This story is dedicated to scatteredlogic for her cherished friendship and all her invaluable help.
Chapter Twenty Two: Casting the DieAs she extended her hand to knock on the door in front of her, Minerva noticed its trembling and drew it back, tightening her fist as she did so. This wasn't going to work if she couldn't keep her emotions intact and under her control. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. When she felt more like herself again, she knocked briskly before she could change her mind.
After a brief pause, the door opened and Irma Pince smiled happily into her eyes. "Hello, Minerva. This is a surprise. I was just getting ready to go down to lunch. Come in."
The librarian stepped back and ushered her friend into her rooms.
Minerva smiled and held out a package and a book to Pince as she turned back after closing the door. "I wanted to bring these to you before lunch, and this way I thought we could walk down together. We haven't seen that much of each other these last few days, and I know that's mostly because I've been so preoccupied, but I…well, I just wanted to spend a few moments with you now and tell you that I'm sorry for being so distant. Can you forgive me?"
A frown of concern creased Irma's forehead as she absently took the proffered items and looked at her friend carefully. Minerva looked more tired than ever. The deep circles that had marred her face for so long now seeming to have permanently etched themselves under her eyes with dark and indelible ink.
"Oh, there's nothing to forgive. I know that you've had a lot on your mind. I just wish that I'd been able to help you with whatever has been troubling you so much."
Minerva impulsively reached out and drew the startled librarian into her arms, hugged her tightly for a brief moment and then stepped back quickly. "You have helped me, Irma. You've cared about me and what I've been going through, and that's been of much more help to me than you could ever imagine."
"I'm glad," the slightly confused witch murmured. Then, to cover her embarrassment at her friend's uncharacteristic burst of affection, she dropped her eyes to the book and the parcel she held in her hand. The book was the library book on memory that she'd given to Minerva only a few days before, and the package was a medium sized box wrapped in colorful Christmas paper.
Further confused, Irma looked up again. "Did you find the book helpful, Minerva?" she asked softly.
Minerva sighed and shook her head. "No. Not really. It didn't seem to address the question I wanted to know about. I'll have to keep looking, I guess. Thank you for taking the time to find it for me though."
"You're welcome. I'm sorry to hear that it wasn't of use to you. I searched the collection thoroughly. I'm afraid that this is the only book that we have that touches on the subject of pensieves and memory. I'll need to acquiring some better resources, I guess."
"That's all right. It may not matter soon anyway," said Minerva quietly.
Those somber words caused a chill to go down Irma's spine and an awkward silence filled the air between them as the librarian tried to figure out just how to respond. Finally, Irma turned and set the book down on a nearby table. Then she held up the wrapped package with a hesitant smile. "Christmas is still a few weeks away. Why are you delivering presents so early?"
"I'm afraid that I'll have to be going away before Christmas, and since I wasn't certain when I'll be back, I wanted to be sure that I gave you my present before I left. You can just put it away for now, and pull it out at the right time. If you can stand the suspense, that is. Were you one of those children who always had to shake all the packages ahead of time to determine what was in them or could you wait patiently until the proper time came to open them?" Minerva's eyes gleamed with suppressed emotion and forced amusement.
Irma was slightly taken aback. "Uh…I was always pretty good at waiting, actually. What do you mean you're going away? Going away where? Why?"
Minerva looked down at the tips of her shoes and sighed. "It's too long and complicated a story to get into now. You'll find out the truth soon enough, I'm sure, and when you do, I hope you won't think too ill of me. I…hope that though I do have to leave, I won't be gone for long, but there is the possibility that I might not be able to return. So since I already had your gift, I just wanted to be sure that you received it."
"Minerva!" exclaimed Irma in horror. "What do you mean, you might not be able to return? And I'd never think ill of you, no matter what. You're my very dearest friend, but even you can't just drop a bombshell on me like that and not explain it."
The eyes that reluctantly rose to meet the shocked ones of Irma Pince were shadowed and sadder than any that the librarian had seen in a very long time.
"Please," Minerva beseeched her friend in a rather halting voice. "Don't ask me to explain. I just can't. I wouldn't leave if I didn't have to, but I do. Just keep the present until Christmas, and when you open it…think of me fondly. I…I'll probably be back by then anyway," she finished awkwardly. If only that were true.
Irma didn't know what to say. She wanted to continue to question her friend, but she could tell that Minerva wasn't comfortable with the way the conversation was going. The last thing Irma wanted to do was to make Minerva more uncomfortable and unhappy than she already was, so as hard as it was to do, she decided to simply go along with what was asked of her.
"All right, Minerva. I won't question you anymore, and I'll put the gift away until Christmas. I don't have your gift yet, though, so you'll have to let me know where I can send it if you aren't back by then."
A chill flitted through Minerva at the thought of where she'd probably be living by Christmas, but she forced a smile onto her face. "Of course, if necessary, I'll be sure to do that."
Irma smiled sadly. "I'll miss you, if you leave. Hogwarts won't be the same without you, you know."
"Oh, Irma, I'll miss you, too." Minerva threw her arms around her friend once more, and this time she was embraced a bit more fiercely than before.
When they broke apart, Minerva smiled brightly. "Hopefully, I won't be gone for long anyway, and all this sentimentality will be totally unnecessary."
Irma nodded, still confused and now worried on top of it.
"Well, shall we go down to lunch?" asked Minerva in her usual brisk tone of voice. "I'm quite hungry myself."
"Yes, certainly. I'm rather hungry, too. Just let me set this in the bedroom, and I'll be right back." Irma turned and went off into her bedroom for a moment and then returned again without the package. "Okay, off to lunch then?"
Minerva nodded and opened the door, and the two of them set off for the Great Hall together, each thinking their own gloomy thoughts and trying to not worry the other with them.
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Ian had looked quite triumphant at lunch when she'd told him that she'd made her decision and that she'd be visiting his chambers in the early afternoon with her answer. As Minerva walked resolutely toward the guest quarters at the back of the castle, a grim smile settled easily onto her face. He was going to be in for a bit of a surprise apparently. What a shame, but not even the great Ian Kyle Standish got everything that he wanted.
When she faced his door, she slid her right hand into her pocket and grasped the hilt of her wand in a firm grip. Ian wasn't going to get the drop on her again. He'd abused her for the last time. This time, she'd be ready if he didn't behave himself. With a quick and resolute sigh, she raised her left hand and knocked firmly on the door.
The wait was only a moment. Then the door opened quickly and Ian inclined his head to her with a broad and satisfied smile spread out across his face. He looked unbearably smug, and suddenly she found herself eagerly anticipating bursting his confident bubble. "Ah, Minerva. I've been waiting for you. Please, do come in."
Accepting his invitation to enter, she moved easily across the carpeted floor and waited quietly for him to close the door behind her. Her eyes skimmed the room, noting the pair of crystal flutes that stood next to an icy bottle of champagne on the credenza. Without surprise, she also noted that the door to the suite's bedroom was open wide and that the covers on the bed beyond were turned down despite the early hour of the day. Clearly, Ian was planning on her presence in his bed this afternoon, no doubt to seal their bargain. My, my, wasn't he eager? Too bad. He didn't hold the winning hand this time, no matter how much he thought he did.
Ian came up behind Minerva on soft feet and ran a caressing hand down the side of her face. "I'm so glad you've finally come, Minerva. I've been looking forward to this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." His voice was husky with desire, and he dropped his lips to the nape of her neck and kissed her gently.
"Have you?" she whispered softly. "Somehow I doubt that, Ian." With a few quick steps, Minerva moved away from Ian's touch and turned around to face him once more.
A faint frown flitted across his face. "What do you mean? You have come to accept my offer to protect you from prosecution for your crime, haven't you?"
"That's such an interesting way to phrase it, Ian, when what you're really asking is have I decided to accept your blackmailing of me."
The frown deepened at the cold firmness of her tone. "However you insist on phrasing it, you are here to accept my proposal, aren't you?"
With a faintly pitying expression on her face, Minerva shook her head firmly. "No, Ian. I'm not. I refuse to give in to blackmail, and I refuse to give you control over my family's estate. You lose, I'm afraid."
Shock was written large on his features as he stared at her for a moment in absolute speechlessness before finding his voice once more.
"No, you lose if you do that! You can't be serious. Do I have to spell out what refusing me means once more? You'll spend the rest of your life in Azkaban, Minerva. Even without the dementors, you won't last a month in there. Think before you throw your life away!"
"I have thought about it. Long and hard. If I really did murder that man all those years ago, then I need to be punished for it, Ian. I'm not going to try to evade that. But whether I did or not, I cannot and will not allow myself to be blackmailed by the likes of you. I promised myself that I'd never let you touch me again, and I never will."
Fury rippled through Standish, and he took a menacing step forward and reached for Minerva, but before he could touch her, she pulled out her wand and pointed it directly between his eyes.
"Touch me, and you'll be spending the rest of your life as a toad, Ian…a very appropriate fate if you ask me," Minerva stated calmly. Her eyes glittered and a substantial part of her almost hoped that he'd be foolish enough to disregard her warning.
Standish came to an abrupt halt a couple of feet away from her, a peculiar mixture of rage and confusion apparent in every line of his face and every taut angle of his body. He shook his head once more, as if he simply didn't understand the very language that she spoke.
"You can't mean it. You can't! You'll die, damn it! Don't you realize that? Is being touched by me really such a horrible fate that you'd rather die than submit to it? You can't mean this, Minerva?"
"Oh, but I do," she said quite calmly. "There were so many times during our marriage that I wanted to die, Ian. So many indignities…so much pain. When you'd hit me or berate me because I'd displeased you, because I'd had another miscarriage, or simply because you enjoyed it… When you'd put your hands around my neck during sex and press down, not caring in the slightest if you killed me as long as you got your pleasure out of it, I hated you.
"In fact, almost every moment that I spent in your house and in your bed was a moment I hated. A cold, barren prison cell would be paradise compared to spending even one more moment under your control. When you and I divorced, I vowed then and there that no man would ever have that sort of control over me again. I will not go back into bondage to you, Ian. I will not. So turn in your evidence. Send me to prison. You won't ever control me again. I will remain free of you if I have to die to do it."
"That's what it'll likely come down to, you know. I was speaking just recently to some of my old friends on the Wizengemot. They're all afraid that with the dementors gone from Azkaban, that there won't be enough of a deterrent to stop people from committing truly horrible crimes, like murder. I believe I told you that they're considering reinstituting the death penalty. Well, when they asked my opinion on the matter, I told them that I thought it was an excellent plan. In fact, I believe they're working all the details out as we speak. The new statutes will be out very soon. You might have a fairly short stay in Azkaban, after all. If the cold and deprivation doesn't kill you, then an executioner might."
A shiver ran through her and her wand wavered slightly in her hand. Ian saw it and smiled.
"It's easier to face a prison cell than a death sentence isn't it, Minerva?" Ian mocked her softly, his eyes hard.
His taunting voice seemed to infuse her with more resolve. Her head raised a notch and her arm stiffened once more, the tip of her wand still firmly aimed at her enemy.
"Yes, it is, but it doesn't change anything. I've made up my mind. I will not submit to you and your blackmail, Ian. I don't know why you want this so much, but there's obviously a reason beyond simple greed, and that cannot be good. Everything I know, everything I am, tells me not to give in to you. So I won't. It's that simple."
Panic flitted through his eyes, convincing her even more firmly that she'd made the right choice. That was real fear she saw reflected there. There was no longer any doubt in her mind. Ian had promised what he didn't have to someone who wouldn't look kindly on being denied, and it didn't take very much effort to figure out who that someone was.
"Think about this then, Minerva. I have the power to help or greatly hurt your precious Dumbledore with my report to the Board of Governors. I can turn in such a favorable report that he'll have nothing to worry about for years to come, and I will if you yield to me. Continue with your defiance, though, and I'll make sure that half of the staff is fired for incompetence. I'll make Dumbledore look like a doddering old fool whom the Board will have no choice but to replace. What do you think about that, huh?" He planted his hands on his hips and glared at her.
Uncertainty flashed through her for a moment. This was one threat that she hadn't anticipated, but could she afford to consider it now? It didn't change anything really. Voldemort simply couldn't be allowed to get his hands on the vast amount of money that the McGonagall estate was worth. No member of the staff here at Hogwarts would be willing to keep their jobs if they knew that that was the cost.
Besides, no matter how bad Ian tried to make them look, it wouldn't be very hard to prove him a liar to any legitimate follow up inspection that would come. Albus was too smart and too powerful to allow someone like Ian to bad mouth him to the Board and get away with it. No matter his reputation, he was still the newest member of the group, and he didn't stack up against Albus Dumbledore, either in wits, reputation, or manipulative abilities.
"When the truth comes out, Ian, and you know it will, you'll only end up looking foolish and incompetent yourself. You can shade things to make them show against us, but you cannot represent the staff of this school as incompetent and expect anyone with half a brain to believe you, because it's much too far from the truth. Albus can take care of himself and Hogwarts. That argument won't work with me. In fact, no argument is going to work. You lose, Ian. That's all there is to it."
Impotent rage was beginning to raise sweat on Ian's forehead, and a large vein was pulsing rather obviously under the now flushed skin of his temple.
Minerva began to move towards the door, never lowering her wand or changing its aim.
"I'm going to be leaving now. I suggest that you do the same. Scurry back into whatever hole you crawled out of to come here and face whatever consequences there'll be for failing to get what you wanted. I never want to see your face again."
"I'm sure that you don't," Ian spat through stiff lips. "You won't get your way in that though. I'll be seeing you again…at your trial. Then I'll be the one who has the upper hand. Once you're incarcerated, I'll petition for your estate, and I'll get it. I have friends in high places, and they'll be glad to help me. All this will avail you nothing in the end. You'll regret this, Minerva. You just see if you don't."
Her slightly clammy fingers fumbled briefly with the doorknob before succeeding in opening it behind her back. "Perhaps I will, but my decision is final, nevertheless. Goodbye, Ian." Her voice remained firm, her countenance stony, until she slipped through the door and slammed it shut behind her.
Then, leaning weakly against the closed door, she shivered as she heard the intense crash and inarticulate burst of rage that echoed through the room behind her. Closing her eyes for a moment, she pressed a now trembling hand to her breast and tried to quiet her racing heartbeat. For better or worse, the die was cast. There was only one way to go now…forward into the uncertain future.
As she moved off down the hallway, Minerva slipped her left hand into her pocket and withdrew a sealed scroll of parchment, gazing at it sadly. Now, came the hardest part of all. Saying goodbye to her world.
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Next Chapter: Minerva hands Albus her resignation.
