I would have updated last night, but F. had an error.
Queens are female cats, toms are male. Thanks for the reviews! You all are so cool!
Chapter Six.
The Big Day
Minerva sighed as she waved her N.E.W.T students off from the Hogsmeade station. It was, at last, the holidays and, what's more, the holidays in which Albus would be married.
"You'll miss them, won't you, Minerva?"
Minerva turned round to find Albus himself standing behind her. "How observant of you, Headmaster."
"Minerva..." he said in a warning tone. She had been getting more and more waspish as the end of term drew nearer.
She waved her hand negligently. "Yes, I'll miss them." she shrugged. "I hope Weasley and Miss. Black have a happy life together."
Septimus Weasley and Cedrella Black were engaged to be married – against the Black families' will.
"Oh, they will," said Albus comfortingly, "Now, there is a carriage awaiting us."
They walked back to th gates where carriage, drawn by a Thestral, visible to few of the staff apart from Minerva, Albus and Professor Grubbly-Plank.
The carriage smelt stale, which Minerva's heightened senses picked up; "Albus, we should really get round to spring-cleaning these, you know."
He wrinkled his nose against the smell, but said, "Ah, but makes them so authentic! The smell of years gone by, the – Oof," he gasped as Minerva punched him in the side.
"Albus!" she cried, "I was being serious!"
"That reminds me," he said, suddenly serious. "This thing in the Forest that you heard – I would call the Ministry, but I want to know more before calling all units; I can assure you, however," he added quickly, seeing her mouth open angrily, "that the wards are so strong that perhaps only the great Merlin himself would be able to get past them; Intruder alarms are everywhere; Muggle repelling charms and self-casting jinxes. We are safe as it is possible to be – and my friend Roland Dawlish is in the village with a few of his Auror friends."
More satisfied, she sat back. "It was a human, of that I am sure – but who is beyond my ken."
"Well, yes; I have called a staff meeting and all will be present. It is a threat and we have to be careful."
"I agree." Minerva spent the rest of the journey in contemplative silence.
Walking through the main corridors, Minerva felt the lonesomeness that came with the end of term. The corridors were empty, the classrooms were quiet, the grounds peaceful. It was terrible.
No one would come running to tell her that William Potter had filled the Gryffindor common room with fireworks, or to scream hysterically that an experiment in the lab had gone and wrong and just look at my nose! Or to tell her that the Slytherin team were hogging the pitch.
Minerva sighed and cuddled little Bree, Thistle's smallest and prettiest kitten, who, like her bothers and sisters, was a healthy cat.
Bree squirmed, mewling shrilly. "Oh, baban, hush," cooed Minerva. Bree butted her chin. Rollo, named so because of the yellow eyes that reminded her of Rolanda, Squee, the ginger tom, had been named so by Rolanda herself. Frodo was the black tom, named by Minerva after the hero of her father's favourite muggle book, The Lord of the Rings. Sheba was the tortoiseshell queen, and enjoyed bossing her siblings around. Dulcet was another queen, named after the famous Healer – Poppy had named her – and last but not least, was Bree, the black and white queen and the smallest of her litter.
"Minerva!"Came Rolanda's voice through the door. "Let us in! Hurry up!"
Minerva opened the portrait. Poppy and Rolanda were standing in front of it, Poppy looking quite calm, Rolanda was seething. As soon as she opened the door, the flying instructor fell through it.
"Min, Min! She's set a date, she's set date!"
"First of all, Rolanda, my name is Minerva, and second, please lower your voice." when Rolanda was quieter, she asked, "So who has a set a date for what?"
"Letitia! Look, an invitation! The wedding is at 11o'clock on New Years Day!"
"What...?" Minerva took the piece of pink paper and read the gilt letters.
Mr. and Mrs. Archicadeon Dumbledore, formally invite
Ms. Rolanda Hooch to the joyous union of
Miss. Letitia Gordon and Albus Dumbledore in
Holy Matrimony.
Wedding ceremony will be held in the Great Hall of
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
on the 1st of January at 11 o'clock.
Please send reply back by the 22nd of December.
Minerva stared at the rose coloured paper in such a mixture of emotions it was hard for her to form any coherent thought.
Married...they're getting married...
Poppy and Rolanda watched Minerva's reaction and feared the worst. Surely Albus wouldn't do it? Wouldn't tie the knot?
--
Minerva shook as she shredded a winter-lily to pieces. It was happening! Really happening! They were going to get married and go away and Albus would change and then she'd have to do the wards and the paperwork and the bills and manage Gringotts and the school would fall into ruin. And she'd lose her best friend.
Tears fell from her grey eyes, sobs racked her wiry frame. Oh, everything was so wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!
The bench she was sitting on creaked as she moved. The wind was cold here, in this remote corner of the grounds, but it suited her Scottish bones much better than the warmth of the castle. There was a bleak view of the forest, the frozen lake, and the blue hills in the distance.
Minerva brought her sobbing under control at last and wiped her eyes. I must look a sight, she thought, performing a handy little charm to take the evidence of the tears away.
She looked at the forest, then remembered. Oh no, the intruder...Albus told me not to go outside on my own...Well, stuff Albus and stuff what he tells me to do! Anyone who marries that feather-brained, addle-pated vegetable is a fool! But she immediately regretted her words. Fool or not, he was herfool.
A loud smashing, stumbling noise accompanied by loud cursing, shocked Minerva out of her misery for a moment. There is someone here! She pulled out her wand and held it steady, proud of how strong her grip was.
"Come out, whoever you are! My offer still stands!" she shouted fiercely.
There was more cursing then a figure emerged from the trees. Minerva held steady.
The figure lifted it's arms. "I mean no harm. I will not attack." It was a man's voice.
"Come here, then." said Minerva, not lowering her wand in the least.
He stood in front of her, laying down his wand on the grass carefully. Minerva looked him over. He had brown hair, cut to just past his ears and amber-brown eyes. His skin was a healthy tanned colour, though the fobes he wore were tattered and worn.
"Who are you? Have you been trespassing on Hogwarts land?" she demanded
"I am David Murdock. I – I know someone up at the school." He spoke with a strong voice and an American accent.
"So you camped out in the Forbidden Forest?" said Minerva scornfully, "Why didn't you just come and ask for this person?"
"She – I suppose you could say she was out of my reach, ma'am."
"Who is she? Not a student?!" The shocking thought just occurred to her.
"No! No ma'am!" he seemed as shocked as she was. "Her name is Letitia Gordon. I hear she's getting married."
Minerva didn't let her shock show. What trick was Letitia playing now? "What do you want with her?"
"We were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together and I asked her to marry me last year. We had a quarrel – something so trivial that I can't even remember what it was about – and she walked out and never returned."
Minerva believed him; there was something about this honest, straightforward young man that she trusted and liked. "Yes, Letitia is getting married. To Albus Dumbledore – January the 1st." She knew it was stupid to tell him an she couldn't explain why had done it anyway.
"Thank-you, ma'am. How do you know? Not that I'm doubting you truthfulness or anything ..." he added hastily.
"I'm a teacher up at the school. I can get you an audience with her, if you want."
"No. No thank-you, ma'am, but I just don't understand. She's still engaged to me! How can she go off with the Headmaster?"
"She didn't 'go off with the Headmaster'" said Minerva heatedly, defending Albus' honour. "They met in the Leaky Cauldron," She finished, even as her heart sank to her boots.
"My apologies, ma'am. I meant no offence. I'd-er-best, be going." He tried to retreat.
"Wait a moment! Where will you go now?" cried Minerva.
"I dunno, ma'am. I've been sleeping in a hut in the Forest for the last few months."
Minerva thought quickly. "You can come up to the castle," she said, "I can pretend you're a guest for the wedding."
He looked as if he was thinking hard as well. "Surely you'd get into trouble?"
"I might but -"
He cut her off. "You've been very kind to me, ma'am and I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble. But could you tell me when they'll be doing the ceremony?"
"11o'clock, but surely -" He had melted back into the trees, leaving not a trace behind him.
Stunned, Minerva stood stock still before remembering where she was; she hurried back up to the school with a very confused mind.
--
"Minerva?" Poppy quietly entered Minerva's rooms with an arm full of small, deep red flowers. "These are the last of the cherry-roses from the kitchen garden. I thought they would go with your gown."
"Thank-you, Poppy." said Minerva sombrely. Poppy and Rolanda both knew why she was so solemn and perhaps Poppy knew, or thought, less than she let on.
Today was Albus' big day. The day he would marry Letitia Gordon. And Minerva felt as if she was being led to her own execution; how was she going to be able to sit there, watching her best friend in all the world commit himself to a monster?
But here she was, looking at herself in the mirror, waiting for the word to enter the Great Hall where the ceremony would take place; she had got an invitation in the end, but only because Albus had jogged Letitia's suddenly forgetful memory.
Her dress was one she had made herself, changing the style with some charms and a wee bit of Transfiguration. It was a deep red, a colour that suited Minerva right down to her boots. There were gathers at the sleeves, which were full and dragging; the skirt went out in a gentle circle around her, and the corset was well-made and had golden stitching in Celtic patterns along it, but , unknown to all, a black and green necklace was hidden beneath her dress.
"Here, let me do it." Poppy had a fine dress-sense and she was using her ingenuity to the uttermost for her two friends. She had braided two parts of Minerva's hair, then twisted them behind her head, fastening them with a silver clip decorated with hanging silver chains, leaving the rest loose to tumble in voluptuous locks over her shoulders and down her back. She was now carefully working the small, cherry-red roses into her hair behind her ears.
Even in her despondent mood, Minerva thought that she was looking prettier than she had ever before. The dark red of the dress was exactly the right shade for her skin, showing the paleness of her ivory skin and showing just enough of her body to catch attention. The silver was an unusual twist, but it was lovely. Her hair was amazing, catching the light and glowing red. Minerva sighed. If this had been any other occasion, she would have had trouble tearing herself away from the glass – it wasn't that she was vain – she had just never had enough pretty dresses and certainly few new ones.
"Minerva, you look stunning," said Poppy. "You will turn even the bridegrooms head!"
Minerva smiled weakly. "You look beautiful, Poppy; I've never seen you in clothes like that." Poppy did indeed look wonderful. She had a dark green, well fitting dress that matched her blue eyes and blonde hair, which was done in an intricate bun, wonderfully braided, twisted, and sewn in.
"Thanks, Minnie." Poppy seldom used that name, it was one she had called Minerva when they were small and unable to articulate proper names. Normally Minerva objected to the name, but this time she didn't. Poppy felt a surge of anger at the magnificent woman in front of her, reduced to a teary, apathetic way, grey eyes watery. Minerva was all 'fire and dew' and she had not been like this in the twenty-five years they had known each other.
"Hello Min," said another voice. Rolanda had arrived. She had also been subject to Poppy's fashion sense, and was wearing yellow robes that matched her eyes exactly, short hair fashionably spiky. "How are you feel – Hell, Minerva! You look – you look...wow, Min."
Minerva smiled a little more genuinely at her friends astonishment, then turned back to her reflection.
"When are we supposed to be seated, girls?" she asked.
"A half-hour past," answered Poppy, glancing at her watch. "It's a good time to go now; our seats are reserved at the front." She gently took Minerva's arm and led her out of her rooms.
The Great Hall was like it had never been before. Ribbons hung, suspended by magic, about halfway down from high ceiling. Fairies flutter about, little glowing orbs of multi-coloured light. There were a few guests, mainly men who had been told to stay out of the way of the women who were all fussing over Letitia's dress and toilette. Minerva, still in her sad daze, consequently did not notice the appreciative glances sent to her by the various men in the room, of which Poppy and Rolanda were getting a fair share.
Their seats were at the front, with the rest of the professors. Minerva stared at her hands. She was stinging inside with guilt and indecision. She couldn't let Albus marry someone who was engaged to someone else...but Letitia might have broken it off and David might not have told her the truth - though she doubted that; he seemed like a trustworthy young man, such a person as Letitia didn't deserve.
And if she did tell him, would he hate her forever, for ruining his perfect marriage? Or would it break him and then he would end up as a travelling salesman. It had happened before, she thought gloomily.
Would David come to the wedding? The wards were being loosened so that the guests could arrive and he would find it easy to get in. She found herself hoping against hope that he would crash the wedding and whisk Letitia away to never be seen again – preferably because she had fallen into the clutches of a vampire, or a hag or a giant rampaging though the town...but she knew it was unlikely. They would get married and leave her on the outside, looking in, excluded forever.
The music started. Shocked, Minerva sat up. She watched Albus, in the most handsome robes of plum velvet, walk slowly down the isle. He stopped at the alter, where, to Rolanda's everlasting horror, Aberforth Dumbledore was standing in grubby priests' clothes, waiting to perform the ceremony. He winked at his brother, then turned to watch the bride parade down the isle.
Letitia was wearing the whitest dress, Minerva could have imagined; it was so white, it hurt to look at her; Minerva suspected Albus' mothers' involvement. The dress had a white netting over it, a thin corset which tapered to an embroidered point at her midriff. Her yellow hair was falling in bonny ringlets onto her shoulders and her eyes were smiling. You could nearly hear the whole congregation falling in love worth the blushing bride. She made Minerva feel so dowdy, in her dark finery and meagre jewels.
Aberforth, at the alter, looked his soon-to-be sister-in-law over appraisingly; Minerva didn't think he looked that thrilled. In turn, Letitia didn't look that pleased to be stood in front of Aberforth Dumbledore to be married.
"Wizards, witches, warlocks and well-wishers. We are gathered here today to witness the union of this man, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and this woman, Letitia Charlotte Gordon in most sacred magical matrimony."
Aberforth droned on, the two people in the front of the alter repeating after him.
"To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, forever and ever. I do." Letitia finished, smiling prettily at Albus; the congregation sighed.
"If there is any man or woman who have any objections to this union, speak now or forever hold you peace," said Aberforth in ringing tones.
Everyone looked around. Albus' mother, Caryla, in the very first row, tried not to fidget; she so wanted her son to marry the pretty, well mannered girl, as did her husband. Poppy looked around quietly, and Rolanda peered at everyone. The bride and groom watched their audience silently. No one said a thing, though Minerva, inside, was screaming, tell them tell them tell them! But she said nothing. She felt faint. It was then that a strong, familiar voice rang out from behind the congregation.
"I object!"
It was David.
--
Cliffie!! Mwuahahahahahahah! Tell me wht you think.