Disclaimer: I do not own anything dealing with Harry Potter and I do not suspect that I shall anytime soon. Le Sigh! Now watch as I turn away and cry like Moaning Myrtle! Waaaaiiiiil!
A/N: I'm listening to "Sunrise, Sunset" from Fiddler on the Roof right now and it made me think of McGonagall and Dumbledore. I was just thinking of Minerva's parents, what they might be thinking of when Minerva and Albus marry, so that kind of got me in the mood to write, which is good since I've had no inspire-ation as of late! Don't you hate it when that happens? Le Sigh times two! Well, here we go.
Chapter Three: Frick and Frack…
Minerva led Albus out of the cozy drawing room, past the entryway, and down a long hall. There were paintings on both walls, all depicting various family members. It was clear to see the family resemblance-black hair, green eyes… The only people who were different were those who had obviously married into the family. Albus smiled as he thought of how much Minerva looked like her parents. And even though he had only met her father for a minute or so, he could tell that she had gotten her stubbornness from him. He knew this because her mother was obviously a free, fun loving sort of woman whereas her father had the power to intimidate any prospective beau waiting in line to court his only daughter, which was understandable.
They left the hallway and entered a grand ballroom. The floors were white marble, as were the walls and grand staircase, which presided at the far end.
"This is a beautiful ballroom, Minerva," he said. "Absolutely stunning." Minerva smiled as they paused in the middle of the ballroom.
"Yes, well, my parents are very fond of throwing parties. I recall attending several parties while I was growing up. Possibly thousands." Albus smiled as he looked down at her and placed his arm around her shoulders.
"I bet you were the center of attention at every, single one of them," he said. She rolled her eyes as she laid her head upon his shoulder.
"Hardly," she said. "I haven't attended one of my parents' parties since I was sixteen. The only one to show me any sort of interest was Bernard, this young boy with a lot of pimples and little to say." Albus looked down at her.
"Really?" he asked. She looked at him.
"Well, okay, he had a LOT to say," she said. "But little of it was actually intellectual." They both laughed and continued to make their way towards the grand staircase. They walked up it and then to the left. After they took the immediate left, Albus could see the entire ballroom from the banister. He smiled as he imagined several men and women, dressed in dress robes and dresses, circling around the floor. He could hear music play in the distance. Invisible strings were played on invisible violins while an invisible singer sang along with the invisible melody. He smiled.
"Albus?" The sound of Minerva's voice pulled him out of his reverie. He looked at her and smiled.
"So sorry, my dear," he said. "I was just allowing my mind to wonder, as it so often tends to do nowadays." She pulled him by the hand and into the third door on the right.
"It's alright, Albus," she said as she pulled him into the bedroom. "I love that about you. I could never let my mind drift the way you do." She closed the door and turned on the light. "I've tried, but I'm afraid I've never really been imaginative."
"Oh, I'm sure you've got some imagination inside yourself," Albus assured. He looked around the room and saw that it was every bit as cozy as the den was. There was a small, mahogany fireplace with angels carved into it and an already lit fire, a king-sized bed with burgundy blankets, white pillows, and burgundy drapes hanging around it, and burgundy carpets. The bed was to the right, near a bay window, the fireplace on the wall across from the door, and to the left was another door. He guessed that was the bathroom.
"Sorry for all this burgundy," said Minerva. "But my father decided that each and every room must have a different color scheme. This, obviously, is the burgundy room. The one on the left of this room is the red room while the one on the other side is the purple room. My room is the one on your right," she said, pointing to the room on the right, "the second door from the stairs. That's the green room. The one on the end, right next to the stairs, is the silver room."
"Does every room have a color scheme?" asked Albus as he went over to the drawer. He was pleasantly surprised when he looked in and saw some of his personal items already placed in them.
"Yes," replied Minerva as she made her way to the bed to make sure it had been turned down properly. "The five rooms on the other side of the staircase are color coordinated. If you went from the first one by the stairs to the last one, you'd see there is a gold room, a yellow room, a blue room, a pink room, and an orange room. Then, there is the master room, which rests right in the center at the end, so that the ten rooms frame it. That is mum and da's room."
"And what color might that room be?" Albus asked as he walked to the wardrobe next to his bed.
"White," smiled Minerva. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He also wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin upon her head. "Thank you, Albus." He looked down at her and she looked at him.
"For what?" he asked, cupping her cheek.
"For agreeing to put up with my family this weekend. Trust me; they are not the easiest people to get along with. Mum is the least of your problems, and she loves you, I can tell. My father is a little more difficult to deal with. Then, there are my twin brothers. 'Frick and Frack' is what I call them. They like to joke around a lot and pull pranks. Even at fifty years of age, they can like teenagers. But they are every bit as protective of me as da is, and they can show it when they deem necessary." Albus chuckled.
"Do not worry, my dear. I love you very much, and this weekend is for you. There is nothing they can do or say to make me leave you. I'm not about to go running and screaming down the street."
"Not even if I do it myself?" she asked jokingly.
"Well, perhaps if you're going to do it," he chuckled. He leaned down and captured her lips. The kiss was soft and loving. When he pulled back, she leaned against him.
"Once again, I thank you," she said.
"You are welcome," he said. There was a knock on the door and before either one of them could pull apart or even say to come in the door opened and T'ari bounced in once again.
"Aunt Miner-buh, Uncle Hermes and da' is here, and they want to see you and Professor Dumbidore." Minerva smiled.
"Alright, I'm coming," she said, not even moving out of Albus' arms. T'ari bounded out of the room without another word and hurried down the walkway, down the stairs, and through the ballroom.
"You know? I'm growing more and more fond of T'ari as time goes by," chuckled Albus. "But, why does she call you 'Miner-buh'?" Minerva sighed.
"Well, she is actually quite a literate young child. Unfortunately, there are some words she has been unable to say. We're not sure why, but she sometimes has trouble with her v sounds. We've taken her to doctors all over, and even to speech therapists, but they have no idea what it could be." Albus nodded as they finally pulled apart.
"Well, I'm sure she'll start saying her v's soon enough. Some children just have trouble, but it's not always permanent. I used to teach students before who've had such problems." Minerva smiled at him.
"Perhaps one day she will be cured," she replied.
Ooooooooooo
Minerva had left Albus to get settled in. She knew she could go to her room later. Right now, she had to meet her brothers-Hermes and Mercury.
She entered the drawing room and was instantly met by the sight she had come to know and love. At the fireplace was her father, a glass of brandy in his left hand and a cigar in his right. At ninety, he looked fairly young for his age. His brown eyes were dancing as he stared at his youngest child, and only daughter. Her mother was sitting upon the couch with a fan, cooling herself needlessly. It was cool enough in the room, but Hera McGonagall was never really far from the stage, as it was commonly said. Next to her sat Hermes, the youngest of the twins by two minutes. He had shoulder length hair, similar in color to their father, and brown eyes as well. He was the only one who looked more like Aires than Minerva or Mercury. In the chair across from them was Mercury, T'ari's father and, technically, oldest of all three children. He had black hair and green eyes, much like Minerva and their mother.
"Minerva!" breathed Hermes as he stood up from the couch and headed for his sister. Minerva met him halfway and held him close to her, happy to see him again.
"Oh, Hermes," she laughed. "It's been so long since I've seen you."
"At least three years, little sis," he said.
"Well, at least I was able to see you every month or so, in a sense," said Minerva as she pulled away from her brother. He quirked a brow.
"How so?" he asked.
"Because I've made it a point to see our little sister every month, unlike you," teased Mercury. He had walked up behind Hermes by then and rested a hand upon his brother's left shoulder. "You'd know that if you weren't so busy touring with that bloody Quidditch team of yours." Hermes rolled his eyes.
"I'm sorry if me being the manager of the Chuddly Cannons doesn't exactly appeal to you, big brother, but unfortunately, not everyone can be as happy as you are. A beautiful child and a job as the editor in chief of the Daily Prophet." Mercury laughed as he hugged his sister and pulled back to look at her.
"Never mind him," he laughed, nodding his head to Hermes. "He's just bitter because his lousy team can't win a game to save their lives." Hermes gaped at him like a fish.
"Just you wait, oh mighty and powerful one. One of these days, my team will be known as the best Quidditch team that ever existed." Mercury laughed.
"More like the most pathetic team that there ever was," he laughed. Minerva looked at Mercury.
"How are you holding up, Mercury?" she asked. Her brother sighed.
"I'm doing well," he said. "The pain becomes less intense each year, but I make do." Minerva nodded sorrowfully as she thought of Mercury's deceased wife, Samantha. She had died four years earlier from breast cancer. Despite all the medical advances the wizarding world has made, there was still no cure for most diseases, including cancer and all its forms. That Sunday would mark the fourth anniversary of the tragic event.
"Well, let me know if you need me to do anything," she said. Mercury nodded.
"I think it is harder for me than it is for little T'ari," he said. "She was only two at the time, after all." Minerva nodded.
"Excuse me, boys, but I have not been able to fully welcome my daughter home." Minerva looked to see her father now standing behind Hermes and Mercury. Even though they were both tall, standing at a good five foot nine, Aires was much taller than both of them.
"Hello again, da," she said as she hugged her father a second time.
"How is your job treating you?" he asked as he led her over to the second chair. Hermes and Mercury resumed their original positions while Aires conjured up a new chair to sit in, next to his daughter.
"Very well, thank you," smiled Minerva. She gratefully accepted the tea from the house elf, Mitzy. "I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. I love teaching there, and the staff is wonderful."
"Speaking of which, where is Professor Dumbledore?" asked Hermes excitedly. He had always been one of Albus' greatest admirers, oftentimes causing him to go head to head with their father. Minerva made to reply, but didn't have to.
"I'm right here," said Albus from the doorway. They all looked up to see him standing in the doorway of the drawing room. Minerva stood and went to stand beside Albus. Her brothers stood to greet him.
"Hermes, Mercury… this is Albus Dumbledore, my employer."
"And boyfriend!" T'ari piped in as she stepped out from behind Albus, clutching a doll in her hand. Albus felt his throat go dry; Minerva paled, her brothers gaped, Mercury stopping in mid-handshake; her mother stopped fanning herself and her father spit out his drink, the droplets falling onto the carpet.
"Boyfriend?" he asked, wiping his mouth.
A/N2: Ooh, dun dun dun! Oops a doodle! The secret slipped. That's gotta hurt, right? I mean, am I right or am I right? Hahaha! Well, I hope you guys liked it. Read long and prosper. Always Hopeful