"Happy Birthday."
"What's this?"
"Birthday present."
"It's moving."
"Just open it, Minerva," Alastor told her gruffly.
Eyeing the package carefully and with the memory of the time her sister had given her a loose bludger in a box (along with a cryptic warning) as a 'joke' for her sixth birthday clearly in mind, she reached for the bow that held on the loose lid. As the pale blue ribbon slipped away, the lid was quickly pushed off by the furry gold speckled, black snout of what looked remarkably like a kitten with overlarge ears. Happy to be free of its container, it quickly jumped out of the box and onto Minerva's kitchen table. A long tail with a grey tuft at its end swished pleasantly for side to side, gently hitting some flowers in a vase.
"A kneazle," Minerva observed.
"That's right," said Alastor, beaming.
Minerva pulled the animal into her arms from the table. "Why, thank you, Alastor." She'd been expecting something like a sneakoscope. That was more Alastor's style. A present as adorable as this one was completely unexpected.
Alastor nodded, a crooked smile set upon his face. "Thought you might like one. Damn useful, kneazles. They have a way of knowing when someone untrustworthy is about. If that one starts crazy around someone, best to watch them closely."
Minerva's body suddenly went very stiff. Her hand stopped its petting and rubbing motions atop the kneazle's head and the animal looked up at her with a look that was a mixture of confusion and expectancy. She did not look down at it, and soon the look changed to one of confusion. Minerva's gaze pinned Alastor with a fierce look.
A sneakoscope she could have handled, but the disappointment that the kneazle was simply a security measure was too much.
"How can you say that?"
It was all Alastor could do to not allow his exasperation to show on his face and incur more of Minerva's wrath. "What do you mean, 'how could I say that'?"
"You're treating that sweet creature as though it were a mere tool."
"It's useful to security. That's all I said."
He'd done it then. Minerva was in a right temper. He could barely see her mouth for it had formed that thin line so characteristic of her anger and her eyes were suddenly a very obvious shade of green instead of their normal blue. She allowed the kneazle to slip gently from her arms and onto the floor. Unbothered, it began sniffing the furniture and exploring its new home, leaving Alastor and Minerva to fight by themselves.
"You think everything is useful to security!"
He hated it when she yelled at him about this. Security was important! They were aurors for Merlin's sake. Did she simply not understand the danger that presented?
"That's an exaggeration."
"You're right," she fumed. "Let me rephrase: everything you ever buy or talk about is useful to security."
"What's wrong with that?" he asked tartly.
"Your entire house is filled with SECURITY ITEMS, Alastor!"
"Damn right it is!" He could yell too, dammit.
Minerva huffed out a breath. Her thin nostrils flared. "It's all you ever think about, Alastor. You're paranoid."
"Dammit, it's not paranoia if you're right! How often do I have to tell you that?"
"It's not healthy," Minerva pressed
A look of pure and utter horror appeared on Alastor's mildly scarred face. "It's what kept me healthy—as in alive—for as long as I've been an auror!"
"It's all you ever think about," she fumed. "I don't think you're capable of much else."
Alastor could feel the meaning behind Minerva's words pressing silently and oppressively at him. Trust. That's what she meant when she said that. That was what she thought he was incapable of. She wasn't saying it now, but she'd said it before and he knew that was what she meant.
He didn't know whether to be angry or hurt by that. He didn't know how to respond to either what she'd said or what she hadn't said. A thick, stifling silence had fallen between them. He shifted uncomfortably.
Slowly, Minerva's eyes returned to their normal color, her lips became visible and the blotches of heavy red on her cheeks faded. It was she who finally broke the silence.
"I can't do this anymore, Alastor," she said quietly. "This is something that has always been sitting between us like some sort of impenetrable charm, and it always will be."
Alastor knew what was coming. It wasn't a terribly hard equation, nor did it require a big leap to arrive at the correct conclusion. He felt as though he should say something, but he'd never been terribly good with words. He could speak his mind well enough, but eloquence was not a trait of his and somehow he felt that was what was required here.
He remained silent.
"Alastor, I think—"
Knowing that the time when eloquence was needed had suddenly passed, Alastor found his voice.
"It's all right, Minerva," he told her in a voice that was just gruff enough to seem inappropriate to the situation. He cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, I'll just be off."
Minerva nodded mutely. The actual words of what was happening did not need to be spoken. They both knew everything the other could say. Not speaking at all was easier.
They both moved toward the door. Silently, Alastor opened it. Then, carefully positioning himself so his back was not facing the street, he made a truly uncharacteristic show of affection and kissed her gently on the temple.
"Happy Birthday," he said and the gruffness was back in his voice.
"Thank you."
Minerva did not know what to feel right then. In some ways, this was a relief, and after all she'd never loved Alastor. Not as a lover, at least. As a friend, Alastor was a dear, but as lovers they were not well matched. She knew that.
A small little something moved quickly past her leg and in one swift motion, Minerva reached down and grabbed the kneazle which had been moving quickly toward the door.
"I don't think we should be letting you outside," she told it.
It looked at her curiously.
"Th Muggles will notice you," she explained and the small creature seemed quite satisfied.
She closed the door, then simply stood there stroking the kneazle in her arms absentmindedly.
After a while, she looked down at the animal.
"It's funny," she mused, "how what is arguably the best gift I ever received caused all of this."
The kneazle purred at her.
Realizing she needed to be at her mother's for the family celebration of her birthday, she put the kneazle onto the floor and began making her way to her bedroom.
Well, she thought wryly, my mother will be pleased to hear what happened.