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Chapter Seven: In which Minerva has a really good day
- February 15, 1945 -
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Minerva walked out of her interview with the scout from the Montrose Magpies feeling like she had just conquered the world. Dumbledore hadn't been joking about how they couldn't decide whether they wanted her to play Chaser or Seeker; eventually, though, they reached a decision. Starting that fall, she was to play Chaser for the most successful team in the history of the British and Irish League. She couldn't think of anything that could improve or dampen her mood.
She was meeting Dumbledore in a while for an Animagus lesson, but she still had about twenty minutes to go, so she decided to wander the school and look for a friend. She didn't have to wander for long. Just outside the Great Hall was none other than the captain of Slytherin's Quidditch team. "Hi, Alastor," she called as she approached him. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, hi, Min," Alastor said when he saw her. "Just waiting for the rest of the team to get here so we can review the strategy for next week's game with Hufflepuff. Jones has a good group, but I think we can get her, and second place."
"Still got your sights set on the Quidditch Cup?"
"With you flying? Not a chance." He winked, then said, "Now, what's this I hear about the Montrose Magpies?"
She smiled sheepishly. "Yes, the Montrose Magpies. I just signed on to play Chaser next season."
"The Montrose Magpies." Alastor whistled softly. "That's great, Min. So, I guess you won't be joining the ranks of the Aurors with Tom and myself?"
"Oh, Tom's decided to become an Auror?"
"Yeah; came to the final decision this morning, actually. And Paul's looking into it, too."
"Oh, and speaking of Paul, did you find someone to take his place on the Quidditch team?"
Alastor nodded. "A third-year named Linden Monet. He's not bad, but Paul was a lot better."
"Sorry," Minerva said. Even though it wasn't technically her fault
that Paul was removed from Slytherin's Quidditch team, she still felt she bore
some of the responsibility for the punishment he received from Professor Nay.
"Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault."
"How is Paul, anyway?" She and Paul hadn't seen much of each other since their breakup.
"He's enjoying the single life," Alastor said in a tone of voice that was not particularly kind. "New girl every few days. This week, it's Jacqueline Flynt; next week, my money's on Giselle Towers."
"Didn't he date Giselle last year or something?"
"Yeah," Alastor said. "She was the one he dumped for you. Hers wasn't the only heart broken when the two of you started going steady, you know."
Minerva had always known Paul was a ladies' man, but after her experience with him, she didn't really understand why.
"What about you?" he asked. "Are you enjoying the single life?"
"I sure am. It's so liberating; being able to go to the library on the weekends and study without worrying that I'm supposed to be meeting Paul somewhere…"
"Got your sights set on a replacement?"
She sighed. "Not yet. Professor Dumbledore said I should just give it time, and I think that's what I'm going to do."
He chuckled. "That's Dumbledore for you. I bet he's been giving it time for the last eighty years."
Minerva snapped her fingers and poked Alastor in the chest. "Hey, be kind," she said. "Dumbledore's a great man."
"I never said he wasn't."
She sighed. "I wish there were more men like him in the world," she said, mostly to herself.
A sly grin crossed Alastor's face. "It sounds like someone's got a crush, M."
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, but even as she spoke, her face gained some extra color.
"You're on your way down there right now, aren't you?" he asked.
She nodded. "Animagus studies."
"Ah, so that's what they're calling it these days…"
"Alastor Moody!"
He laughed. "Sorry, sorry. You know I love you, Min."
"Yes, I do, but Arabella doesn't, so we'll make sure this stays our little secret, comprendé?"
He placed his hand over his heart. "Touché."
"I'm going to be on my way now," she said. "Have a good Quidditch practice."
"Have a good study session," he returned as she started to walk away. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
She laughed. "Then I wouldn't be going in the first place!"
"Oh, right." He shrugged. "Never mind, then."
"You're early."
"That's all you have to say to me?" Minerva asked as she made her way toward their usual front-row desk in Dumbledore's classroom. "'You're early'? Not 'How did the interview go?' or 'Did you do your essay yet?" or 'Are you ready?'? Just 'You're early'?"
Dumbledore smiled at her. "All right. How did the interview go?"
"Excellent," she said, sitting down. "I've signed on to play as Chaser next season."
"That's wonderful, Minerva. Did you do your essay yet?"
She laughed. "Yes, I did the essay."
"Good." He got up from behind his desk and joined her in the front row. "Now then, are you ready?"
"I am ready."
"Well, I'm not. I wasn't expecting you for another ten minutes," he said, and they both smiled.
Dumbledore glanced around the room, then looked at Minerva again. "You know, you're far ahead of where I thought you would be at this time, so if you have something else to do…"
"I don't. I finished the essay, remember?"
"Has anyone ever told you to not let academics get in the way of your education?"
She blinked and stared at him. "I can't say I've ever heard that one before."
"Well, since I can't seem to get rid of you, care to help me correct some papers?"
"Sure!" she said. "That would be great."
"Good. I'll go get them."
He stood up, walked over to his desk, picked up a stack of papers, and then returned to the front row. "I'll give you the essays from the first-years," he said, giving her the top half of the stack. "You shouldn't have any problems, but on the off-chance that you do… bah, you won't have any problems."
She smiled and started working. It felt good working alongside Dumbledore; almost like they were colleagues instead of a teacher and his protégé. Would there ever be a time when she was his colleague? She could only hope.
For the first few minutes, they worked in silence. Then, Dumbledore made an attempt at starting a conversation. "So, how was your day?"
"Great," she answered. "The thing with the Magpies was the obvious highlight, but the rest of the day was pretty good, too." She completed the essay she'd been working on and reached for another. "The third-years I've been tutoring got the results from their last Charms test back today, and they all got one hundred percent. And Professor Nay only took a grand total of twenty points away in Defense Against the Dark Arts today; ten from Gryffindor and ten from Hufflepuff." She smiled. "Kyle Thresher and Shirley Jones were arguing about the upcoming Quidditch game between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw's in second place for the Quidditch Cup right now, but the points between them are so close that Ravenclaw could conceivably drop back to fourth place and either Hufflepuff or Slytherin take the second place spot."
"What do you think will happen?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. It's really anyone's game. They're both good teams, but I think Slytherin might be a little better – well, they were before they lost Paul, anyway. They've replaced him with a third-year named Linden Monet. According to Alastor, Monet's decent, but I'm sure they'll be missing Paul. Alastor didn't come right out and say it, but I'm getting the impression that Paul's not very high on his favorite people list."
"Understandable," said Dumbledore. "As a teacher, I am supposed to remain objective and more or less uninvolved in this sort of thing, but when it comes to Paul Garrett…"
"Oh, this is nothing. You should see him around Professor Nay," said Minerva. "He's always hated her, and I don't assume to know how she feels, but I do know she's not too fond of him."
"She is very concerned about you, you know," he commented. "Professor Dippet has been spending some time with her, and according to him, she asks about you a lot."
"Why wouldn't she just ask me?"
"Well, she does adhere quite strongly to protocol, and if a subject is not relevant to the topic at hand, it will not surface in any way, shape, or form, and how often do you two see each other outside of the classroom?"
"Oh, true." She sighed. "Well, it's good to know someone cares, even if they don't show it."
I would, but it would be breaking every rule of protocol in the book, he thought. "Don't even think she's the only one," he said. "I could start naming off all the people that care about you, but we'd be here all night."
She smiled at him. "You're a good friend, you know that? I know I'm not supposed to think of you as my 'friend', but…"
"I'm honored you consider me your friend," he said, "and if it's not too bold to say, I will miss you greatly."
"Oh, no, you won't," she replied. "I'll write. I'll write so much you'll get sick of me."
"I doubt it."
Their eyes met, and the only thing that kept them apart was the thought that the other could never possibly feel the same way.
Finally, Dumbledore forced himself to look away; he knew that if he looked at her any longer, he would be unable to hold back. Minerva, too, averted her gaze, and they both went back to the papers. Neither one could concentrate, though, being so distracted by wondering if the other had received the definite signal that had been sent just then.
About ten minutes passed. Dumbledore managed to finish correcting the paper he had in front of him, but that was only because it was almost done before he made eye contact with Minerva. She was not so successful. Her eyes were on the essay, but her mind was on the room's other occupant. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get her mind off him, and she doubted it was going to happen anytime soon.
Minerva sighed and pushed the essay away. The only way she could handle this problem was to get away from the distraction. "I'm sorry, Professor," she said, standing up. "I… I can't concentrate."
His stomach twisted itself into a painful knot. She must have noticed the way he was looking at her; she had, after all, been receiving those sorts of looks from nearly all of the male students at Hogwarts since about her fourth year. Realizing she was sitting in a room with a lecherous old man would be more than a little uncomfortable.
"You're leaving, then?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah. I, uh…" She sighed and sat down again. "I'm pathetic."
He almost laughed. "You, pathetic? What makes you say that?"
I'm obsessed with my Transfiguration instructor, that's what, she thought, but didn't dare say that. "I… I can't tell you."
"It's not because you don't trust me, is it?" he asked, nearly cringing when he realized how desperate he sounded.
She shook her head and stood up. "No," she said. "It's because I don't want to betray your trust." She could feel her heart rate increasing. "I've got to go."
She started walking toward the door, but stopped when Dumbledore said quietly, "It's because of me, isn't it?"
She slowly turned around. He was standing now, and his eyes were downcast. Did he think he had done something to make her stop trusting him? She felt awful, doing something like that to her teacher, her mentor, her friend… she had to tell him. She owed him the truth. "Well, if you must know… yes, it is you."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I never meant to-"
"What?" she interrupted. "Never meant to be the most patient, understanding, amazing person I've ever met? Never meant to motivate me to be the best I could possibly be? Never meant to make me lay awake at night wishing I was seventy years older so it wouldn't be wrong for me to think I'm in love with you?"
She gasped and covered her mouth. Did I just say that? Shaking, she dropped her hand, and said, "Can we pretend I never said that?"
He crossed over to her in two steps. "Only if we pretend that I'm not going to say you have no idea how much I want to kiss you."
She couldn't take it any more. She threw her arms around his neck, pulled him close to her, and kissed him. It was a kiss she had been saving just for him, and it showed in the intensity and desperation with which it was given. He was so taken aback by this that he almost didn't recover and return the kiss before she pulled away.
"Yes," she said, "I do."
An hour later, Minerva was lying on her bed in the girls' dormitories in Gryffindor tower, staring at the ceiling. She smiled, closed her eyes, and sighed. And just when she thought her day couldn't get any better…
"Minerva?" came Arabella's voice.
She opened her eyes and looked at her best friend. "Oy?"
"That's the fifth time you've sighed in the last two minutes."
She sighed again. "This is the best day of my life."