A/N: If it wasn't for Lucero, I don't know if I'd be continuing this story. The reviews are lacking, to say the least, and the lack of feedback makes me a little unwilling to continue.
However, because she has been so supportive throughout this whole process, I'm gonna keep writing. Lucero- this is for you!
Xxxxx
Minerva sat staring blankly at the paper. She couldn't form any words, couldn't think.
"But how could she have given a statement?" Percival asked.
Minerva shook her head.
"I think she was forced," Esmerele chimed in. "Besides, she doesn't like the south of France."
"How do you know?" He asked.
"We were talking about it, oh, some years ago. She said she'd rather spend her vacation in the Alps."
"Mom?" Percival asked gently.
Minerva stood up and starting pacing the room. She couldn't quite process the information. Tessa was supposed to be the one he wouldn't find. Essentially growing up and living in France, she had not communicated enough with Minerva enough to be an obvious target.
How on earth could Donal have tracked her down so quickly and with such ease? And to avoid authorities in France too?
"There's a mole." She said; her Scottish brogue belied her sadness and anger.
Percival stood up in protest, "You can't be serious. Mom, who on earth would betray you? Nearly everyone in the wizarding world is in debt to you!"
Minerva shook her head. "I don't know. But he wouldn't find Tessa on his own. He just couldn't."
Esmerele thought about it. "You know Perc, she's right. Tessa would be the hardest to link back to our family. But Mom, you can't really think that someone on the inside is helping him!"
Minerva's pacing increased in tempo. "I don't know!" She cried. "I don't know what to think about any of this!"
The healer appeared at the door. "Headmistress, Sir. I'm sorry but your time is up. Ms. Brian needs to rest."
Esmerele started to protest but Minerva raised her hand. "Fine, Ms. Brian, if you think of anything, do not hesitate to call me."
With that, she nodded at Percival and they exited the room.
Once in the hall, Percival whispered, "What now?"
"Now, we dig. Let's check all of Tessa's records and see where a slip could have been made. It'll be tedious, but it's all we got."
Xxxxx
-The night before Jacques' death-
Donal stood pacing around angrily. He couldn't find her son, and he suspected that he was with his mother.
Damn. If she had her son to fight with her, she'd be that much harder to beat.
And her youngest daughter- her body wasn't at the house in Scotland anymore. He hadn't heard any news about her death. Had she survived her injuries? And if she had, could she too fight with Minerva?
Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn.
This was not what he had planned.
He looked at his parchment again. Nothing indicated that Percival Brian lived anywhere else except for the flat beside the Order.
He flipped through his files. Nothing.
Percival hadn't gone back to the Order in several days, but no one seemed alarmed by it- nothing in the Prophet.
So if they weren't alarmed at his absence, he must have let them know he wouldn't be there.
But where was he? Hogwarts? The secret Manor?
Either way, he was out of his reach now.
And the search of his flat proved to be totally useless. All he got were a lot of cryptic scribbles on formulas.
Esmerele's house hadn't revealed anything either.
He felt furious at the lack of progress he'd made in finding any information about McGonagall Manor.
Then, like a flash of lightning, a memory came floating back into his consciousness.
Someone else hated Minerva just as much as he did.
And she would be the one who could help him.
He ran to the corner of the room and withdrew a piece of parchment and scrounged around for a stay pencil.
Finding one, he pressed the paper against the wall and began writing.
Rolanda,
Long time no see.
No doubt you would have heard of my escape.
And I'm sure you can guess my intentions.
You and I are one, and I think we can help each other.
Meet me tomorrow at sunrise near the southern banks of the Thames.
Let's finish what we started, shall we?
Donal
P.S. Do your eyes still shine a bright golden after you are kissed?
Xxxxxxx
Minerva and Percival's first stop was the Ministry of Magic's Department of Records.
Ever since the war with Voldemort, they had begun keeping extensive records on the witches and wizards who lived within the Ministry's jurisdiction.
And workers in International Societies, like Esmerele, and those who had moved abroad, like Tessa, were monitored even closer.
No doubt there would have been records on who Tessa had spoken to throughout her adult life.
Minerva entered and immediately headed for the first elevator and pulled the lever three times, two long, one short, and in a flash they were sent hurling towards the Record's vault.
With a screech, the elevator came to a grinding stop at a dimly lit passageway.
"Never fails to make me motion sick." Percival whispered.
Minerva gave a small laugh. "Albus too."
They rounded the hall to the right. Sitting at the desk was a small mad with graying hear and a ruddy complexion.
"Minnie my lass, it 'as been ah long time! Whad on ea'th are ya doin' 'ere?"
She smiled gently and rose to hug the small man. "Connor my dear, it has been a long time. I have missed you. What on earth are you still doing down here? Shouldn't you be hunting somewhere in the lovely Irish hills?
Connor shook his head. "Ah like i' 'ere, Minnie. Goo' pay, goo' 'ours. I go' nah reason tah complain. Ma'gret is happy a' peaches havin' tha 'ouse tah herself these wee 'ours in tha mornin'. Ga'dning o' somethin' in tha ya'd. An' this must be ya son, Percival. Looks jus' like 'is father 'e does. "
Percival stepped forward and shook his head. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."
"An' wha' can ah do far you, my Minnie?"
"I need records on Mrs. Theressa Brian Rousseaux. She goes my Tessa mostly."
Connor nodded and disappeared behind a door. They heard ruffling and movement, as if papers were being flown across the room in an organized chaos. In fact, that's probably exactly what they were doing.
Percival leaned in and whispered, "How do you know him?"
"He owned a tavern for the longest time before he gave it to his son, and he brews some damn good scotch whiskey."
Percival chuckled and shook his head. "Lord have mercy, Mama."
Connor reappeared with a small parcel of notes. "Ah thin' this is wha' ya need."
"Thank you Connor," she grabbed the parcel. "And if we need anything else we'll be sure to come straight to you."
"Still like tha MacGregor whiskey?" He asked with a devilish grin.
Minerva smiled. "You know I do."
He reached down into the bottom drawer of his desk and withdrew a small, square, glass bottle filled with amber liquid. "I's goo' ta see ya, Minnie." He said, and handed her the bottle.
Minerva took the bottle and wrapped him in a quick hug. "It is good to see you, Connor."
With one last smile, she turned around and headed back to the Floo to begin her work at Hogwarts.
Xxxxxx
-The night of Jacques' death-
Rolanda sat in her office working on repairing brooms. The first years, though eager, had given her brooms a rather nasty beating.
She scrubbed the wood and clipped the twigs in an effort to make them look somewhat presentable.
She put the broom on the ground and picked up her calendar. No quidditch matches this week, but next week would be a whirlwind of games.
Last week of rest.
She pulled out her cigarettes and stepped onto the small porch attached to her rooms.
The stars were so relaxing. She could hear the gentle lapping of the water hitting the shore.
She blew the smoke out into the crisp air, the only light was from the moon, stars, and the red tip of her cigarette.
Off in the distance, she noticed a small bird flying towards the castle. Probably a bird heading to the owlry.
She turned around and went back inside to grab a glass of bourbon. Reaching into her cabinet, she withdrew a new bottle and poured herself a generous amount.
She walked back out onto the porch and enjoyed her alcohol and tobacco. Nothing in the world like drinking and smoking on a perfect night.
The owl she had noticed earlier was headed straight towards her porch, and she groaned inwardly at the thought of more mail- especially this late at night. Nothing good could come from that.
The bird landed gently and dropped the letter. It flew off as soon as it landed- probably ready to hunt in the night.
She picked up the letter, if you could call it that. It was just a piece of paper, and ratty paper at that.
She read the letter and her heart kicked into high gear, the alcohol and nicotine already rattling her system, making her head feel light.
Rolanda,
Long time no see.
(No shit. It had been forty years.)
No doubt you would have heard of my escape.
(Yes, she had. From none other than Minerva herself. )
And I'm sure you can guess my intentions.
(Like it wasn't obvious. Still hell bent on killing her.)
You and I are one, and I think we can help each other.
(Yes, I think we can help each other, even if forty years have passed.)
Meet me tomorrow at sunrise near the southern banks of the Thames.
(A rendezvous with Donal. Alluring.)
Let's finish what we started, shall we?
(Yes. Let's.)
Donal
P.S. Do your eyes still shine a bright golden after you are kissed?
(Do your blue eyes still turn a dark grey when you are going in for the kill?)
Xxxxxxx
After hours of digging Minerva had not gotten anywhere. And from the look on Percival's face, he hadn't found anything either.
Again she checked and rechecked her correspondence lists for the last couple of weeks.
It wasn't exciting.
Gabrielle
Jacques
Gabrielle
Helene (a friend from school, Minerva had discovered.)
Gabrielle
Gabrielle
Jacques
Esmerele
Percival
Gabrielle
Sophia (another friend from school.)
Rolanda
Gabrielle
Gabrielle
Jacques
Percival
Gabrielle
Nothing amiss. And all of the people she didn't know and had checked out to be just friends, all housewives in France.
She looked at Percival. "What about you?"
"Her Floo list is about the same as her correspondence, except she hasn't visited with Rolanda in a couple of years. But Gabrielle seems to be the one who is always coming and going."
Minerva shook her head. "What about anyone at Beauxbatons? Anyone there with connections to Donal?"
Percival shot her a look. She raised her hands, "Alright, alright. Forget it."
"Donal really doesn't have any connections in France, though. Not from what I've been able to read about him."
Minerva agreed. "No, he doesn't."
"And you don't think Gabrielle could be the leak?"
"Have you met her?" Minerva asked with a smart little grin.
Percival shook his head.
"Let's just say her elevator doesn't go to the top floor."
Percival chucked. "Dad used to say that."
"He did." She smiled at the memory.
"What about Jacques? Anything interesting with him?"
"Nothing. His work wasn't significant. He didn't do much that would raise flags. His visitor log for his office is short- just people who work there and an occasional pop in from Tessa. And all the workers checked out- they've all lived in France their whole life and none of them have worked with ITS."
She shook her head. "Damn. So we're just as lost as before."
He nodded. "But if you had so little to go on before, how on earth did you know where to find Esmerele?"
"I can't tell you, really I can't."
"Mom!"
Minerva looked at her hands. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you. And I will not have my son thinking I'm senile."
"Oh, shut up, you're not senile. And tell me. If I don't believe you, then I won't. But there is no harm in telling me. I wont' judge you."
Minerva sighed. "Just like your father you are." He smiled. "Alright then, you asked for it."
He waited.
"I had a dream about it."
Percival's face didn't change. "What's so unbelievable about that?"
"Because it's Divination! And really shotty Divination at that!"
He shook his head. "It really isn't. Now if you had said a crystal ball- that would have been another story. But it's been proven that moments of great emotional depth can be conveyed through blood relatives."
Minerva gave him a look. "I don't believe that."
Percival gave a nonchalant shrug. "Choose to believe what you want, but your dreams are very valid pieces of evidence. Have you had any others?"
"Just one. About Tessa. But it didn't give me anything, really. Just that there was a cave with a door and the ceiling fell in."
"So you don't know if she was behind that door."
Minerva shook her head. "No, but she was there at some point- I could smell her."
"Alright, well that's something."
"Not much."
He smiled. "Hey, Mama, how does a quick nap sound?"
Xxxxxx
-Morning of Jacques' death-
Donal stood anxiously on the bank of the Thames.
He didn't know how she would respond to his letter.
Did she still hate Minerva all these years? Or had her time at Hogwarts brought the two women together?
Doubtful. He remembered the first time he'd met Rolanda.
The tavern was getting crowded. Everyone was finished with the family dinner and now they were out to have a good time.
Well, he definitely didn't have a family dinner. He'd just screwed Minerva.
The sex was great, but she closed herself off against any personal questions.
That was her rule. Just sex.
And she was just as straightforward at work. Nothing personal. No smiles in the corridors. It was work, work, work.
A witch plopped down beside him. She had short black hair and the most amazing golden eyes. She had a couple of freckles on her cheeks- she obviously spent most of her time outdoors.
"Bourbon." She requested.
Straight liquor. Maybe he'd have a round two with her. She seemed like his kind of broad.
"That's a mighty rough drink for such a lovely woman."
She turned to him and answered in a raspy voice, "Beauty is for women who have nothing else to boast about."
Donal laughed. "Suppose you're right. So what brings you here alone at this time of night?"
"Who says I'm alone?" She countered, giving him a hard look that was equally attractive and disarming.
"Your bourbon. If you were here with someone, you definitely wouldn't be hitting the straight drinks till late."
She raised her eyebrow and gave a crooked grin, revealing perfect teeth. "Touche, sir."
"And what would bring a lady like you to a grungy tavern like this?"
Rolanda's eyes turned dark. "Avoiding a certain bitch."
"What happened?"
"What hasn't she done? God, she's killed my whole fucking career."
Donal looked at her. "You aren't exaggerating?"
She shook her head. "No, I'm not. She's ruined my chances at playing Pro Quidditch."
"What happened?"
"Her last year at Hogwarts she was Head Girl. One of her duties is making sure that records are accurate for all the last years so that when they prepare to work, they have the proper paperwork to prove their capability."
"Ok."
"And she wasn't supposed to look at them, but it seems she did."
"And she couldn't get in trouble for this?"
"She would have, except the consequences I've suffered from her discovery are far greater than any punishment she'd have for a minor infraction."
"What did she find?"
"My old medical records."
Donal was confused. "What do those matter?"
"You can't play professionally if you have any sort of pre-existing condition that could hurt your game."
"And you have one of those conditions."
Rolanda gave an empty laugh. "I have cancer."
Donal wanted to say something, but no words formed.
"Don't worry," she smiled. "It won't kill me for a long time."
"How do you know?"
"Because it's manageable. Bone cancer. I go to the healers once a year and they go through and remove one bone at a time and let them re-grow one at a time."
"So you're cured?"
She shook her head. "The new bones start producing cancer cells after about six months."
Donal looked at his beer. "Does it hurt?"
"Like hell. But it doesn't interfere with my game. My bones aren't brittle and my mind is clear. I can ride on a broomstick and take hits and falls like anyone else. I'm not some goddamn glass person who's gonna drop dead any second."
"Who told?"
Rolanda shook her head. "You wouldn't know her."
"Try me. Tell you what, if I know her, I'll buy your next drink."
"How about this- if you know her, you'll take me to your house and help me get back at her for ruining my life."
Donal smiled. "Anything else we might be doing at the house?"
Rolanda gave a laughed. "I'm sorry, I thought you already knew you were going to fuck my brains out. My bad."
Donal was turned on.
"Who was it?"
"Minerva McGonagall."
Donal nearly chocked on his beer, and Rolanda had to smack his back to get him to breathe. "I'll take that as a yes." She said.
Donal coughed. "Yeah…. Uh, I know her…." Cough. "I work with her."
Rolanda threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely.
"Let's bring her down, once and for all."
His memory was broken by the sound of footsteps behind him. He didn't even have to turn to know it was her.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a cigarette, holding it out in the air for her to grab.
She stood behind him and took his offering, lighting it and blowing out smoke up into the air.
"You haven't changed." She whispered.
"And apparently neither have you."
"What is your plan this time?"
Donal turned around. She looked the same, except her black hair had given way to silver. But it looked good on her.
"You look good."
"Shut the hell up and tell me your goddamn plan."
He smirked. Yep, same old Rolanda. "I need to find her daughter."
"Which one?"
"Tessa."
"Why?'
"Not relevant now. I just need to know where she is."
Rolanda reached in her robe pocket and produced a piece of parchment. Grabbing a small Muggle pen she scribbled down an address.
"This is in Paris. When you get to the house, go to the back door and go through there. That way they can't see you until you're already there. If they aren't there, go up the stairs to the first bedroom. That's the master suite. Her husband is Jacques, a very average wizard who is completely useless to your cause."
Donal nodded, and with that, he was gone.
Xxxxxx