Thanks to my reviewers, though few: much appreciated!!! If there are questions unanswered, let me know: I will try to answer them in the next (and final) chapter. landslide
Chapter 4
A little bit more ginger of the past
"When did you fall in love with Pops?" Rhiannon asked and curled up on the sofa, curling her legs under her bum.
"I don't really know when it happened, but I do remember when I truly felt it for the first time." Minerva dunked her ginger snap in her tea.
"Tell me!"
"All right… After graduation, I went to Edinburgh to become an Auror. I don't want to sound presumptuous, but I was rather good. My Defense Against the Dark Arts was my special skill, besides Transfiguration. According to my professors, I was only a bit impatient. Too impatient to ever master the fine art of Advanced Transfiguration. I proved them wrong by becoming an Animagus.
At Hogwarts I had already taken some private lessons with –then- Professor Dumbledore. When my professors in Edinburgh said I was too impatient, I owled Albus and he offered to help me. Every Tuesday and Thursday evening I was tutored by him and within a few months I would transform into my tabby form. A form that has brought me great pleasure as well as it was very useful on the battlefield.
Those evenings with your father were first a way to become the best Auror I could ever be. Later it became an outing I looked forward to. My stomach would clench when I thought of not going and he invited me to play chess sometimes. He won most of the time, naturally, but I felt so challenged by him and so respected. Also something else that I had not yet experienced before, but couldn't label."
Minerva sighed and Rhiannon sat up a bit straighter, knowing that the story would be most important for her ginger-mystery.
"I won't bother you with War stories, you took History of Magic, but I will tell you about the final battle.
A select group of Aurors knew of the whereabouts of Grindelwald and I was one of them. I was appointed to the mission because of my skills and the ability to turn into a cat. Your father was leading the mission. We met the afternoon before the battle would start and he took my hand in his.
I can't describe the magic I could feel in his hand, but I knew instantly that I would not survive if he wouldn't live through. The very thought of him being hurt in any way made my eyes water. When he saw tears staining my face, he pulled me against him and comforted me. I told him not to go, he said he had to. That went on for a bit and then he promised to be careful. I believed him and together we went to the site where we knew Grindelwald would be.
You know about the fight. Of course he wasn't alone. Followers were with him, as followers of Albus were with Albus. The battle was awful and I rather not think about the horrors I have seen that day.
Finally, it was just between Grindelwald and your father. I don't think I had ever been so scared before in my entire life – but there was nothing I could do.
Your father triumphed over Grindelwald, but he had been badly injured in the process. He was lying on the ground, bleeding heavily. I rushed over to him and stayed with him until he went into surgery in St. Mungo's. We have never been apart since."
Quiet fell over the room. Outside birds were chirping, the wind was blowing through the leaves of the large tree that was in front of Minerva's room. Rhiannon thought about what her mother had just told her. She decided not to go on about it, but try to unravel the ginger-mystery.
She got up from the sofa and took a glass from the cupboard and conjured up some lemonade.
"You know that I think of you whenever I smell ginger?" Rhiannon said when her mother bit another biscuit in two.
"Really?" she asked, curiously.
"Hmm. I once read an article that we remember people by their smells and that sometimes a certain scent will instantly revive a memory you thought had left you. Whenever I smell ginger, I think of you. When I smell particular sweets, I think of Pops. Hogwarts itself has a very distinct scent as well." Rhiannon picked up another chocolate biscuit, looked at it, tilted her head in a moment of reflection and bit in it.
"So, that is probably why whenever I hold a baby, I think of you?" Minerva's eyebrows were arched.
"I don't think that has to do with smell, Mum." Rhiannon giggled. "Mum… I was wondering… were you always fond of ginger?"
That was cue for Minerva to laugh. "No. Indeed not!"
Rhiannon settled herself on the sofa, waiting to have the mystery unraveled before her. Her mother mirrored her moves, though more gracefully Rhiannon could ever do it.
"It is a bit of an embarrassing story, I am not sure I should tell you…"
"You could always give it a try, Mum…" in Rhiannon's eyes there was the twinkle her father was so famous for.
"Well, ginger is known for its medicinal powers. Oh! Look at the time! It is almost time for dinner!" Minerva exclaimed and jumped off the sofa, changing her robes and ran through the door, through the corridors and left Rhiannon behind, completely bewildered.
A bit rushed perhaps, but I want to tell you so badly about the ginger! Next chapter will reveal all! landslide