Disclaimer: All Harry Potter people, places, things, or ideas (all Harry Potter nouns) belong to J. K. Rowlings
Chapter 3: But when you left.
Before Minerva had time to speak with Albus' portrait two weeks had passed since the battle. "How are you today, my dear?" the portrait asked in that same voice as the one it had been painted for.
She swallowed hard and looked up at it, sighing regretfully. "I am manageable these days, but slowly getting better at it."
"I do hope that what I have to tell you may help you then. If you recall, when a person is painted for a portrait like mine, the person can choose to withhold certain memories. He had a plan, Minerva, for after the battle. However, I know very little about it. There is something he wanted you to see though. Move my painting aside and you'll find a new compartment in the wall," the painting instructed.
She eyed it curiously, then did as it suggested. The compartment was similar to a small square wall safe. "How do I open it?" she inquired.
"It is designed to open only to you and only with a certain phrase. I do not know much about its contents, nor do I know what the phrase is," the painting replied.
It's just like him to make a riddle out of a painting, Minerva thought to herself as she wracked her brain for phrases. After trying several, she sighed in disgust. "I've tried everything I can think of. If only you had left some more clues," she paused and looked at the compartment as tears threatened to form again and whispered, "I love you, Albus, I guess you finally have me in checkmate."
She realized that something she had said that last time was the right thing. The compartment door swung open to reveal a long rolled scroll and a yellow-orange glowing liquid in a small vial. "What are these?" she asked the portrait.
"I'm sorry but the only thing I know about them is that he wanted you to have them and that you would eventually figure it out on your own," it responded.
After placing the portrait back on the wall, she wandered over to the desk and began examining the scroll. She looked at it but only became more confused on what it meant. Is this even English? Why did he have to leave me something in code? He could have at least left it in a language I could decipher.
She was still no closer to an answer another two weeks later. She had moved more of her things into the headmistress's suit and was arranging her books when she noticed that a few were unaccounted for. She remembered visiting the library and wondered if she had left the books there. When she entered the library, she spotted Flitwick at a table reading a book and using another to translate something.
"Good morning Filius, what are you reading?" she asked as she walked over to him.
He looked up and smiled politely. "Good morning Minerva, you're looking more like yourself. Have a seat," he paused as she sat down. "I'm reading the Canterbury Tales. It's in Old English, so I am using this book to translate as I go. If you don't have something to translate it, the language doesn't even look like English anymore," he related, showing her both books.
Her eyes widened as she recognized the text immediately to be the same one on the scroll. "Filius, are there any more books on translating Old English here?"
He nodded. "Yes, there are three others right over there," he pointed to a section off to Minerva's right.
She quickly stood. "Thank you Filius, I-" suddenly things around her were fuzzy for a moment and she put a hand on the table to maintain her balance.
"Minerva, are you alright?" he asked, concerned.
"I'm fine. I simply stood up too fast," she rationalized as she headed over to the books.
Once again seated at the desk in her new office, she opened the book she had found and unrolled the scroll. The writing was indeed Old English. As she read it, restraining herself from crying again proved to be challenging, especially regarding how the scroll began:
My Darling Minerva,
I love you, more than words can express. If you are reading this then I have supposedly died. I say 'supposedly' because if the spell worked correctly, I am not really dead. It was very old magic I used, dangerous but worth the risk if it worked. In the frightening case that you are not the one reading this, I have decided to leave you clues before I explain further.
Priam liked opera and when Hecuba actually painted a mural, they Italian became. Does Leonardo answer?
Good luck my dear, you have four months before the spell wears off from the time of my death. When you solve the riddle, the next clue will appear and I will offer you the explanation you deserve.
Forever yours,
Albus
"Do you think this could really be true?" Minerva asked the painting.
"I cannot say for certain, but if it is true then miracles are possible," the painting mentioned.
Minerva ran her hands through her hair, baffled about the riddle. Nothing about it made sense to her. No matter how many times she stared at it nothing came to light. She assumed that 'Leonardo' was referring to Leonard da Vinci, but she decided to look up Priam and Hecuba in the library.
Throughout the next weeks Minerva could only spend so much time in the library though. She still had to select a new Transfiguration professor. It was the middle of the night at the end of June when Minerva sat straight up in bed. Things had begun to make sense.
She reached the study and took out the riddle. "I should have noticed this sooner. It mentions a mural and the opera, things which we have talked about, but the phrase itself is not as important as the words. The riddle is actually a code, but how do I solve it?" She stared at it, as if demanding it to give her an answer.
Then she began to play with the letters at the beginnings of all the words: p, l, o, a, w, h, p, a, m, t, i, b, d, l, and a. That did not seem to yield anything so she tried the last letters: m, d, a, d, n, a, d, a, l, y, n, e, s, o, and r. Still it did not look right. She yawned and decided to return to bed, leaving the riddle for the morning.
Breakfast seemed horribly unappetizing to Minerva that morning. The Eggs Benedict was runny enough to cause revulsion in the back of her throat if she even looked at her own plate. This is ridiculous; I can't even look at my own plate. The worst part is that even the toast I ate is not agreeing with me this morning, she thought to herself. She had to excuse herself and head quickly to the ladies' room after watching Xiomara's sunny-side up eggs run all over her plate.
After the meal had ended, the flying instructor decided to seek out her friend. Xiomara turned a corner in the hallway and nearly bumped into Minerva. "Min, are you alright? You left breakfast in a dreadful rush."
Minerva was grateful for the concern, but knew where her friend would suggest she should go. "I suppose I am fine; I have just felt tired lately. And regarding breakfast, it figures that just when I begin eating regularly again I cannot keep food down," she remarked with a wry half-smile. "Now I really must be going. I have something important to finish."
The flying instructor smiled and shook her head. "You have to take better care of yourself. You know what I am going to recommend, and don't bother protesting. Poppy is already expecting you."
Raising an eyebrow she walked with her friend. "I cannot believe I'm simply letting you take me to the infirmary. I am not sick and I am sure all that I need are a few vitamin potions and a regular walking schedule."
Xiomara snickered and added, "Yes, Healer McGonagall," to which Minerva rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Poppy seemed glad that Minerva had stopped by. "I'm glad Xiomara could convince you to finally come in for a checkup," the medwitch stated.
She ushered Minerva to one of the beds. I know they are my friends, but there are days when I wish they would not fuss over me so, Minerva thought with a sigh as she sat. "Poppy, there is nothing wrong with me. I am right as rain and I probably only need a few vitamin potions."
Poppy shook her head as she cast a diagnostic spell, causing a white steam-like cloud to surround the Headmistress. "Minerva, I prescribed you a diet, so we'll start there while we wait for the diagnostic potion to finish. How has the diet worked so far?"
"Some things have not stayed down very well, especially in the mornings. I don't see the relevance in this," she responded.
"How have you been feeling in general?" the medwitch attempted to ask. Before Minerva spoke Poppy continued. "And don't tell me you are 'fine.' I want an honest answer out of you."
"Poppy, I do not have time for this. I have been tired, perhaps even a bit dizzy, but not much more than that. I have a great many things to tend to at the moment, so if you do not mind I shall take my leave," Minerva stated primly.
The medwitch put a hand on her shoulder as the cloud began to recede back into Poppy's wand. "Wait it's almost finished." Once the substance had completed its trip to the wand, the end of the wand glowed a brilliant moss-green, the colour indicating a person's health status.
No one said a word for the first few moments as Poppy stared at the wand in confusion. Minerva broke the silence. "I don't remember it ever doing that to me before."
Poppy finally found her voice. "Minerva do you know what this colour indicates?" she continued when the question was met with a head shake. "It means you are with child. You are also about five weeks along."
Minerva was silent, staring at the floor as she tried to organize her mind. What on earth has just happened? Is it really possible that this is the result of my one night with Albus? Oh Albus, if only you were here right now. You would have made an excellent father. The last thought caused a few tears to fall passed her defenses and onto her robes. The other women remained quiet, allowing her a few moments with her thoughts. She closed her eyes for a moment. If I cannot get you back Albus, then you have left me a gift that I will indeed treasure.
Summoning her courage, she faced the others with a slight blush. "Albus and I were together the night before he died, roughly five weeks ago."
"Well wonders never cease," Poppy said quietly. "Do you want a concealment potion?"
The Headmistress nodded. "Yes. I want to keep this child, but I'm not certain if I want the whole staff to find out."
"Are your sure about this?" Xiomara asked gently.
"Yes, Mara, he left me one last gift and I have no intention of relinquishing it."
Poppy walked off to retrieve the concealing potion as well as a few vitamin potions. Xiomara sat down on the bed next to Minerva. The flying instructor did not miss the pensive expression scrawled across her friend's face. "Min, if I could bring him back for you, I would."
Fighting back tears, Minerva faced the other witch as she remembered the scroll. "Mara, I do not know if he is really dead."
"He's gone and you need to learn to accept it," Xiomara explained.
Minerva shook her head adamantly. "There is a chance that he is not as gone as we all thought."
"What do you mean?" Poppy inquired as she returned. Minerva told them about the scroll and the riddle
"So that's what you've been working on," Xiomara exclaimed.
Minerva nodded. "I just can't seem to solve the riddle. It has something to do with letter placement, but I am puzzled as to what."
Xiomara jumped off the bed and accidentally hit a jar of Defense Against the Dark Arts chocolates. Poppy walked over to clean up the mess. "Those assistants of mine need to pay more attention to what I tell them. I specifically requested that this jar should be put on the third shelf. They only hear every other word I say," she muttered.
Suddenly the light switch turned on in Minerva's mind. "Poppy, what was the last thing you said?"
The medwitch looked at her curiously. "They only hear every other word I say."
"That's it!" Minerva exclaimed. "I think I know what I need to try."
My thanks to Quill of Minerva, v(), TartanLioness, LinZE, Isabelle(), A. Elyk, and HMS Frivolities and Felines for reviewing :D.