Disclaimer: Do not even begin to think that I own anything dealing with Harry Potter cuz if you do, then you must be insane to the extreme and I will be forced to give you the smack down.
A/N: Okay, so I am sitting here, incredibly hungry, so I thought I would write something to keep my mind off of my hunger.
Chapter Five: Debatable Debates…
Albus was led into the drawing room once again where a house elf poured Aires a glass of strong whiskey (apparently, this was a habit of his), Scotch for Mercury, and some ice whiskey for Hermes, who looked at it and scrunched up his nose. He had never been one for alcohol, but drank it every now and then, when he was in the presence of his father and older brother. Mercury and Aires, however, appeared to make after dinner drinks a habit.
"Care for a drink, Albus?" asked Aires as he stood before the fireplace.
"No, thank you, sir," Albus replied. It felt rather awkward for him to be calling a man so much younger than himself 'sir', but Albus was attempting to prove that he was ever the gentleman and the right match for Minerva in every way.
"Not a drinking man, eh?" asked Hermes. "Good man."
"I've heard it said that you should never trust a man who doesn't drink," said Aires. "At least, that is what they say."
"Is it?" asked Albus. His first impulse had been to bite back, but then he quickly realized that it wouldn't get him anywhere. Provoking the alpha lion in his own den was just begging for trouble, and unless he wanted Minerva to continue her instructing career at Beuxbaton's Academy, he would keep his mouth shut. "Well, normally I would agree with that, but I've seen too many of its side-effects to care for drinking at a constant rate. I do, however, drink every now and again. But I prefer to drink hot cocoa instead of firewhiskey."
"Ah yes, your sweet tooth is well known to the greater part of the wizarding community," smirked Aires. Albus was unsure of exactly what that meant, but decided that perhaps he should stop being so suspicious of everything Aires said.
"It's a wonder I am not preceded by a rather large belly," he joked. "My mother always used to warn me against too many sweets. I'm afraid I never learned to listen too well." Aires smirked.
"Pity. Then again, I don't suppose children are in the habit of listening to their parents. I wanted Minerva to marry someone from the ministry." Hermes could see where this was going and decided to jump in. He felt sorry for Albus. He really did.
"What, you mean that stiff in Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department? McKay? Ha! That bloody sod does nothing but talk about his achievements and how he thinks the world should revolve around him." Aires looked disapprovingly at his youngest son.
"Really, Hermes, I would have thought I had taught you better. Do not disrespect a ministry official in front of our guest." Despite the irritated look upon his face, Albus could tell Aires was only mildly upset with his son. Hermes smiled and shrugged.
"Sorry, Da'," he smirked. Albus sighed. Perhaps he should have taken a drink after all.
Ooooooooooo
Minerva sighed as well as she stared into her mother's mirror. It was the mirror Aires had installed as his way in an attempt to keep an eye on members of the family. The clarity of the image became sharper when the person they were looking at was on the grounds of the McGonagall estate.
"Father's never going to let up on him, is he?" she asked sadly. She turned and Hera waved her hand in front of the mirror, banishing the images from sight.
"Oh, darling, don't worry so," she smiled. She turned and walked towards Minerva, who had sat on her parent's large, four poster bed. Every gesture she made gave way to the fact that she was an actress… Everything, especially her hand gestures, were exaggerated.
"How can I not worry when father is down there right now causing Albus to grow more and more uncomfortable by the minute?" She pulled her feet up onto the bed and hugged her knees. She felt like a little girl again. Hera sat down next to her.
"Oh, pish posh," she said. "Albus has faced an evil wizard AND hundreds of teenage students every year. There is no way your father can scare him off. If a Dark Lord and a castle full of children complaining of their sick, hormone raging bodies isn't enough to chase him away, then what will?"
"How about an angry Scotsman who just found out that his only daughter is dating a man more than twice her age?" Minerva asked, her eyes narrowing on her mother. Her mother looked at her, cast her eyes upward, and then back at her, the smile never leaving her face.
"Okay, that is pretty rough," she said. Minerva huffed and looked away, resting her head upon her shoulders, when her mother wrapped her arm around her shoulders. "Oh, please relax, Minnie." Minerva scoffed and rolled her eyes rather unlady-like.
"Why do you insist on calling me that horrid name, Mother?" she asked, slipping her legs from underneath her and standing up.
"Because I like calling you that," her mother replied. Minerva walked to a nearby window stared outside. There was a lovely view of the gardens. And just beyond the extensively large garden, just to the left and beyond of Minerva's vision, she could see the Labyrinth. In the old days, it had been used by Minerva's ancestors as a means of testing. If a man wanted to marry any female from the McGonagall clan, he would go to the laird and ask him outright for the female's hand in marriage. If the laird liked the man, he would make a deal with him right away. If the laird was not sure, he would put the man through a series of tests, the final of which would be to go through the elaborate maze. If the man failed to make it through, he would be denied. But if he made it through, then he would have the right to marry the so desired McGonagall female-that is, if he didn't go mad from the intensity of the maze first.
"Alright, Minerva, what is wrong?" Hera asked as she also stood, but remained at the end of the bed. "I have a sense this is about more than simply your father approving of your choice in a husband. What else is there?" Minerva hated how well her mother knew her, and yet, at the same time, she felt oddly relieved at the chance to tell her mother what was on her mind. She turned around and faced her mother.
"You're right. This is so much more than Albus winning Father's approval, though that is a large portion of it. This is also about Father ruling over my life. I am not five years old anymore, Mother. I want to live out my life the way I want to live it, not the way he wants me to live it out." Hera nodded as she made her way over to her daughter's side. She folded her arms across her chest as they stood there, their profiles seen clearly in the window as the now rising moon's beams spilled through the double paned glass.
"Yes, your father can be somewhat of an ogre when it comes to men wishing to marry into this family," she said. "But you have to remember that he only wants what's best for you, as do I, Minerva." She cupped her daughter's cheek and smiled lovingly. "You know that the ratio of men to women born into the McGonagall clan is three to one. Women are highly valued because they do not come as often as men do. So it is a little harder to let go of the women in our family than it is for us to let go of the men." Despite her mother's attempt to comfort her, Minerva stared back at her with tear-filled eyes.
"So because I am a woman I should automatically give up any rights that men do? I thought Father always taught me to have a mind of my own. Well, this is just a step in the wrong direction. I feel as though now he is setting women back a hundred years rather than forward. What's next? He's going to arrange my marriage with a high society man?"
"Now Minerva," whispered Hera, pulling back her hand. She knew her daughter's temper was only matched by Aires'.
"Or perhaps he would like to do as the Chinese do and sell me for three cows and a sheep." With that, she turned and stormed out of her parent's bedroom. Just before the door slammed shut, she heard her mother shout out after her.
"At least we don't use the thumbscrews anymore!" The door slammed shut and Minerva rested against the hard wood. She wiped away her tears, which she had not allowed to fall until now. She really hated the way her father still had a hold over her. She loved her father; there was no doubt about that. But she despised the way he treated her as though she were a child. She was an adult and could make her own decisions. Even if she was making a mistake by having a relationship with Albus (which she most certainly knew she was NOT making a mistake), it would be her mistake, not his.
Pushing herself up off the door, she walked unsteadily down the hall, passing by Albus' bedroom door slowly. She sighed and prayed for the millionth time since arriving that Albus loved her enough to withstand her father's tyrannical reign. Aires McGonagall loved his family, and his children were everything to him. She could understand his protective nature. But that did not stop her from wishing he were not so extreme.
She sighed again as she passed her hands along the railing and turned the corner, walking the last few steps before she turned to the right and found herself at the top of the stairs. She stared down and into the grand ballroom. This is the ballroom where she had attended numerous balls growing up. And it was also the room where she had hoped to dance with her husband, as she had been told she would do every day of her young life. She closed her eyes and allowed to indulge herself in a little fantasy. She imagined she was wearing wedding robes and dancing in the arms of her loved one. Not just anyone, that is. She was dancing in Albus' arms. They were dancing and having a good time.
She frowned slowly as she was brought back to reality by the sound of shattering glass, which was coming from the room just below from where she stood. Oh dear, what was happening? She sighed again for the millionth time that night. She needed a walk. Casting one last glance at her parent's bedroom door, she nimbly walked down the stairs and out of her house. Who was she kidding? Albus may love her, but no one was insane enough to put up with her family, no matter how much he loved her. How could she be foolish enough to hope that Albus would love her enough to put up with her family and propose to her?
Ooooooooooo
In the den, Albus felt as though he was drowning and no one would throw him a lifeline. He had received his hot chocolate and was in the middle of taking a sip when Aires had surprised him by asking a question he had not expected to encounter.
"So, have you touched my daughter yet?" Aires had asked.
"How so?" asked Albus as he had raised his cocoa to his lips.
"I mean have you taken her to your bed?" Aires asked, standing in front of the fireplace once again. Albus had sucked in breath, resulting in his quick inhalation of his chocolate. The result was a burned tongue and a few drops going down the wrong tube. So he spit it out quickly, spilling some on the floor and partially upon one of the rugs. He went to place the cup on the table, but had underestimated the distance and ended up breaking the glass when if fell upon the floor.
"I am so sorry," he sputtered and he pulled out his wand and cleaned up his mess. He fixed the mug to its original state, but felt no need to refill it with his chocolate.
"That's quite alright, Albus," replied Aires, eyeing his cautiously. He had made no attempt to move or help her up. When Albus seemed to have regained his composure, Aires looked at him expectantly. "Well, Albus?" Albus looked at Aires.
"No, sir, I have not taken her to my bed," he replied honestly. "I do not believe in bedding someone so soon. We've not been dating long, so it would be entirely inappropriate." Aires nodded approvingly, and yet still regarded Albus worriedly.
"How, uh, how soon would you say is appropriate to take my daughter to bed?" he asked. This was a trick question and Albus knew it. Though he was rather nervous, he put on a smile and decided to answer anyway.
"The only appropriate time for anyone to go to bed is after marriage." Aires smiled a little wider and nodded. Despite this small ray of hope, Albus felt as though Aires were not yet done with his questioning.
"Good answer." Albus smiled. He felt as though he had won a few points with that last answer. Then, he felt his ears perked up. Minerva was near. She heard her light steps (something he had picked up when he first realized he had loved her) and his nose was assaulted with her perfume. It was light, nearly unnoticeable, but he always could smell it. She was near and he knew it. His well trained ears picked up the oh-so-slight open and close of the door. This was an opportunity to be alone with Minerva. Now, if he could only find an excuse to leave. He stood.
"If you don't mind, sir, I was rather hoping I might go for a walk. It helps me to sleep better if I walk around a bit. I noticed a rather large garden out front. Might I take the liberty of walking around?" Aires quirked a brow and heaved a heavy sigh. He looked from Hermes and then to Mercury, who shrugged and looked down at his drink.
"Alright, Albus," he said before finally turning back to Albus. "I suppose this is enough questioning for one night. I shall say goodnight and let you walk around a bit."
"Thank you very much, sir," Albus replied, bowing his head slightly. "Good night sir."
"Feel free to call me Aires," Aires said.
"Of course," Albus responded. "Aires, Hermes, Mercury," he replied, bowing to each one in turn.
"Good night, Albus," replied Mercury. He reached up and shook Albus' hand.
"Good night, Albus," said Hermes. He downed the last of his drink and stood. "I suppose I should be getting to bed as well. Good night Father, Mercury." By then, Albus had already made it to the doorway of the den. When Albus made it the last few feet to the front door, Hermes stopped him.
"If you can't find her in the gardens, try in the maze," he offered. Albus turned to him, his brow furrowed. "She wouldn't go by the lake at night. At least not alone. Not unless she's feeling really low, in which case she likes to sit on the swing under the giant Weeping Willow and think while staring into the water." Albus smiled.
"Thanks. But, how did you-?"
"You're not the only one who can smell her faint perfume," he smirked. "I saw your nose twitch slightly when it came into the room." He walked over to where Albus was. "Look, despite what my brother and Father might say, I like you. I can tell you feel a lot for my sister. I hope you understand just what you have in her."
"I do," replied Albus with a smile.
"Congratulations, and I hope she says 'yes'."
"Yes? Yes to what?" Albus felt his heart beat. Hermes cocked his head to one side.
"Were you not planning on asking her to marry you?" he asked. Albus gulped audibly.
"How did you know that?" he asked. Hermes chuckled slightly.
"No man could withstand our father all through dinner and drinks AND still plan on staying through the night unless he truly loved Minerva. And if you love her that much, it is clear that you would love nothing more than to marry her." Albus smiled.
"I am so glad to have a friend in support of me," he replied, clapping Hermes on the shoulder. The younger man did the same to him.
"It's my pleasure, sir," he said. "Now go get her and enjoy your time together. Those moments will be few and far between through the duration of the weekend." With that, the man turned and walked towards the stairway.
A/N2: Okay, sorry it took so long to update this, but I just got the inspiration to write it, so here it is. I hope you like it. Read long and prosper. Always Hopeful