Chapter Two.
Onyx and Emerald.
Why, on heaven and earth, had she chosen teaching? It could have been the Ministry or the Auror offices or Curse-breaking. But no, she had chosen the profession that meant she now had to sit with her angry boss and even angrier fiancé while trying to keep a civil tongue to keep from being fired. Well that was fine. Really. She would just have to face the music.
Minerva stood, sighing, and shoved her little grey scatter-cat Thistle off her lap. Thistle stared up at Minerva in disgust and slunk off, no doubt to terrorise the rodent population of the Forbidden Forest and surrounding area.
Minerva smoothed her robes and stepped out into the corridor. She was immediately caught up in a crowd of chattering fifth-year girls on their way to breakfast and she couldn't help over hearing.
"Olive Hornby says that she cast an Albanian Love spell on him and that he whisked her back here to marry her so that they could be together forever," a dark girl with a straight fringe said.
"Hornby doesn't know anything." her friend declared. "She's just jealous because Miss Gordon can curl her hair properly."
Minerva's heart clenched at the mention of ''Miss Gordon.'' They were talking about Letitia!
"She has a point , though," another one pointed out. "Mother went to school with her and she says that Gordon didn't have very good grades and that she would have been better off in Slytherin rather than Ravenclaw. Why would Dumbledore have such an empty-head for a wife? Why not someone cleverer?" The girl finished. She was a Ravenclaw herself, and very clever. She was much sought out by the student body for relationship advice.
"She just wants attention." said a tall Gryffindor. "But she does seem to love him, though."
"I know, I don't get it." said the dark girl again. " I think Dumbledore just sees a pretty face."
"A pretty simpering face," added someone else.
"She giggles a lot," said one girl, a tomboy through and through. "And she plasters makeup on."
"Sometimes it makes you wonder whether after all these years the Sorting Hat is finally losing it's touch..." The girls left for their respective tables and Minerva walked up to her seat next to Dumbledore. So the students didn't think much of Letitia. She would have a bit of a hard time living with Albus at Hogwarts.
"Good morning, Minerva!" a squeaky voice said from somewhere near her elbow. Filius Flitwick beamed her a smile and she returned it fully.
"Good morning to you as well Filius." she said. The Charms professor was a kindly little man and she liked him very much.
She turned to her pate and began piling bacon onto it, studiously ignoring Albus and his fiancé. As she crunched it, savouring the taste, she became aware of a high voice to her right, on the other side of Albus.
"Yes, you know, some of this food is so fatty! I always try to avoid eating things like bacon at breakfast, it can ruin your figure in later life," the voice simpered. "Of course, if you don't have a figure to start with..." Letitia trailed off delicately.
Minerva started to feel that all-too-familiar rise of her temper. She leaned forward and looked past Albus. Letitia was nodding prettily, curls bouncing. She seemed to feel Minerva's furious gaze on her and turned slowly.
Letitia looked Minerva in the eyes and smiled. Most people would have thought it a kindly smile, one mother would give to her eldest daughter, but Minerva knew better and she could read the malicious glint the older woman's eyes.
Minerva bit back a cutting response and stabbed her bacon angrily, stared at it for a moment, then crunched it loudly. Letitia seemed to hear, and opened her pretty mouth again.
"I always think that women should behave delicately," Letitia said loudly. "You know, not drink alcohol or eat fast. I myself enjoy embroidery..."
Minerva raged inside. How did this woman seem to know everything she did? Minerva was not above a couple of bottles of firewhisky, or a huge Sunday dinner; turkey, potatoes and gravy galore.
Letitia carried on. "But there are women, (though they barely rate the term) who are very unladylike and -"
"Letys, please refrain from saying these things, here, please." Albus cut her off quietly enough so that only Minerva heard.
"Albus!" she hissed. "How dare you!?"
Minerva couldn't resist. "Because you are such a a commanding and austere presence that no one would ever dream of correcting you."
"Minerva..." Albus said sternly.
"Yes, Headmaster?" she answered innocently.
"I do not want any cat fights here, please." he said.
Minerva snorted. Letitia sent her a predatory glance and turned back to the Matron, Poppy Pomfrey. "I think the No7 is an excellent brand of products, but Chanel has got such better value and you can really find perfumes that fit you..."
Poppy despairingly caught her eye and rolled her eyes. Minerva returned the look and felt sorry for her gentle but firm friend. Next to Poppy, Rolanda Hooch stared at the blond woman with disgusted amazement. Rolanda was born flyer and had no time for silly girly things; it was one of the reasons they got on so well.
Minerva decided to rescue them. It was a Saturday and they could leave at any time. "Poppy, Rolanda, are you going to come into the village with me today still?" she called along the table.
"Oh! Of course we are, Minerva." Poppy said with relief. "I'm sorry Letitia, we can continue this very interesting conversation later, I'm sure."
Rolanda also freed herself from Letitia and the three women left together,
"Interesting conversation?" Minerva asked incredulously. "Since when did you care about about brands of perfume,Pops?"
Poppy sent her a glance of mock-severity. "You know perfectly well I just said that to get away from her."
"Did you hear her?!" Rolanda said loudly and contemptuously. "'Bacon doesn't help your figure, I enjoy embroidery, lar-dee–darr– dee-darr!"
Minerva agreed, but her sense of propriety stopped her from saying anything else. She respected Albus, no matter what footings they were on at that moment. "Leave her alone, Ro. Albus must see something in her and it isn't our place to question him." she said quietly.
"Merciful Merlin, what's wrong Minerva?" asked Poppy. "Are up standing up for her?"
"No, I'm saying that he knows what he 's doing and we shouldn't question him. He is our superior, after all." she said quietly.
"Ah, you're right, Min. But what's wrong? Your tongue seemed a little blunted this morning. I expected you to scrape her raw."
Minerva smiled. "I would have, but I fear that I am dangling on very thin thread and are very near to being fired." She continued to explain to her friends what had happened with Letitia al the way down to the village.
"The little..."Rolanda couldn't seem to be able to articulate words bad enough for the woman. "Urrgh!"
"Never mind, Ro," Minerva said. "Look, the new Bluebottle 360 is out!"
Rolanda lost all interest in Letitia and rushed across the street to see the new broom, proudly on display in the shop window. Poppy and Minerva followed her at a more leisurely pace. The broom was mahogany coloured and fitted in silver clasping. It was very beautiful.
"Oh, let's go in, see if they know where it was..." Rolanda was so excited that the others couldn't bear to disappoint her and so they followed her into the already crowded shop.
--
Minerva watched Poppy admire herself in the mirror. They had been shopping for over two hours and still not bought many things. Even Rolanda was trying on all the new flying robes. Minerva bought nothing, as she didn't want to waste her carefully hoarded money on clothes.
Poppy finally decided on the red dress and they left the shop, purchases under their arms.
"So, Minerva, what are you panning for your birthday?" Rolanda asked as they climbed back up to the castle, cloaks drawn tight around them.
"My birthday?" Minerva asked confused, "Oh! My birthday, right. Nothing, really .Anyway, do you think my sister would come up to see me?"
"Good point, but Min! It's your birthday!"
"I'm aware of that," Minerva said acidly.
"You have to do something for it!" said Rolanda.
"I do not." snapped Minerva. "There is n o one to celebrate it with and I cannot wast money on things for myself."
"We'll celebrate it with, you Minerva." said Poppy quietly.
Minerva immediately became contrite, "I'm sorry, girls, I know you would. Best friends forever, remember?"
The other two smiled, but they didn't talk all the way back up to the castle.
--
Poppy and Rolanda left Minerva in the Entrance Hall and walked back to the Hospital Wing.
"I could strangle Albus!" cried the normally gentle Poppy.
"And his little butterfly." said Rolanda darkly, as she had come to refer to Letitia.
"Mm," said Poppy, thoughtfully. "At any rate, Albus and Minerva should at least become friends again."
"How are you going to manage that, then?" asked Rolanda. " 'The pet' won't like that. And she's cleverer than she looks, believe me. My sister told me about her; they went to school together."
"Well, we can't interfere with the wedding, but at least we can make sure that they're friends before it." answered Poppy. "Let me think about it."
--
Minerva looked at herself and frowned. Her ugly, solemn grey eyes stared at her from the mirror. Minerva herself was wearing an old pair of black robes. Her other's were in the wash and these didn't show the shabbiness of most of her clothes. She had let out some of the seams and patched them with magic so that they seemed as smart as anything the Wizengamot would wear. She sighed and made her way to supper.
Minerva seated herself by Albus, ignoring him completely. Until he talked to her, that is.
"Good evening Minerva," he said, victorian manners perfect.
"Evening, Albus," she replied frostily.
"How are you?"
"Fine. Why shouldn't I be?"
"I was just wondering!" He held his hands up in defence.
"Don't bother."
"Minerva -" he began, but she cut him off.
"Stop it, Albus. Don't you have some paperwork to do?" she added rather cuttingly.
He didn't answer but looked at her intently; she felt as if her whole soul was up for scrutiny.
"Is there something wrong, Albus? It is not polite to stare at a lady." she sniped.
"If there were any Ladies around," Minerva heard someone mutter. She looked around. Letitia was staring at her unfathomably. Minerva gritted her teeth and pushed her food away from her. She stood up with a bang and left, grating out a brittle, "G'night," to the rest of the table.
Minerva, back in her room, grabbed a small bottle of firewhisky and sat by the fire. She downed a small glass then vanished the bottle so that she wouldn't be tempted.
Minerva took a small silver chain out of the neck of her robes and looked at it. It was in a Celtic pattern, silver intertwining with in an intricate pattern. An emerald stone nestled among the silver, and around the outside of the pendant, a fringe of thin, delicate onyx laced the edge. Albus had given it to her for her twenty-first birthday, the year she had begun teaching at Hogwarts. He had said that the onyx was the one of the colours of his family crest and that the emerald was the colour of her soul. It had touched her deeply and she had thanked him extravagantly, kissing on the cheeks repeatedly, he had turned brick-red; she had never owned something so precious. The memory brought sparkling tears to her eyes. She held it tightly, clenching it in her fist as she slowly fell asleep by the fire.
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