Chapter 3 has arrived, and much sooner than I expected! :) Hope you all enjoy this one, but before that, just a few little side notes:
danidepaula: thanks very much for your kind words. i hope this update was fast enough for you!
eternal vampire: albus and minerva's relationship will definitely be very slow in coming, and hopefully with a fair bit of drama, too ;) glad you like it, hope you keep reading!
VoyICJ: unfortunately, there are going to be a few more OC's with a bigger role to play in this fic, but i hope you like them as well :)
And here we go! :)
Ch. 3 Understanding Relationships
'Merlin, but you look tired, Minerva,' Madam Pomfrey greeted Minerva at breakfast the next morning. The matron had already served herself a plate of sausages and fried eggs and was pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice when Minerva seated herself next to her.
'Boggarts,' Minerva muttered in annoyance. 'I will never understand their purpose.' Trudy squirmed guiltily in her seat, but Flitwick, perched on several cushions, patted her hand cheerfully, as though in reassurance of her innocence.
'Boggarts don't have a purpose, Minerva,' Poppy told her, handing her friend a stack of toast, along with a pot of strong tea. She looked distinctly amused. 'They seek only to frighten you.'
'Then they should not exist,' Minerva stated firmly, spreading a bitter marmalade over a slice of toast. 'Everything should have a purpose.' Minerva did not even look up as Dumbledore seated himself next to her.
'And what is your purpose, Professor McGonagall?' he asked her, amused, his eyes sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles. Minerva handed him the pot of tea with a very stiff look.
'My purpose is to teach, protect the students, and fight Dark magic,' she informed him pompously. 'And don't tell me yours is to eat sweets, Dumbledore!' Trudy, listening, could never get over the casual way everyone called the Headmaster 'Dumbledore'. It seemed disrespectful.
The Headmaster laughed. 'I wouldn't dream of it, my dear,' he assured her before turning to his breakfast. Trudy noticed he added three sugars to his tea and rather a lot of cream, and suppressed a smile, which turned to a giggle when Dumbledore winked at her.
The conversation was light-hearted during the course of breakfast, pausing for a few minutes when the post arrived and several members of the staff read the Daily Prophet. Trudy sat comfortably in her chair, sipping a cup of tea, and jumped when Professor McGonagall addressed her.
'I am sorry that I cannot introduce you to Hagrid this morning,' she told Trudy. 'Magical Maintenance has need of me until lunch. Perhaps this afternoon?' she offered. Trudy accepted gratefully, though not entirely sure how much she wanted to meet this half-giant.
'That's just as well, Minerva,' Dumbledore said to Minerva, folding up his paper. 'I do believe Hagrid intended to find an injured unicorn this morning. He believes he will be free this afternoon.' Turning to Flitwick, he said, 'I believe Trudy received a tour of the grounds yesterday, Filius – could I perhaps prevail upon you to give her a tour of the castle?'
Trudy felt herself blushing. 'That's not necessary, Headmaster. I needn't be entertained all day until term begins.' She felt rather like a child that required constant supervision. She knew she was already one of the youngest staff members, and Dumbledore's suggestion certainly hadn't made her feel more mature.
'All of my teachers are given a tour, my dear Professor, not to worry. It was given even to those who attended Hogwarts only a short while before returning to teach,' Professor Dumbledore assured her happily. 'I seem to remember Minerva assuring me that her memory was as good as ever, and certainly hadn't faltered in the ten years that-.' Minerva cleared her throat.
'As fascinating as my history may be to you, Albus, I doubt that Ms Crawford is terribly interested,' Professor McGonagall interrupted. 'More to the point that it is, after all, her decision of whether or not she feels a tour is necessary,' she continued pointedly. 'Now, if you will excuse me, I have a castle to rebuild.' Minerva rose to her feet and swept regally from the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Professor Dumbledore chuckled, looking amused. 'Ah, Minerva,' he said, almost wistfully. 'Well, do excuse me, everyone. I have some business to attend to. Trudy, I leave the decision up to you. I shall see you all at lunch. Good-day.' And with that, Dumbledore departed, his robes swishing around his ankles and the sound of his footsteps faded away.
'Yes, but I redesigned the structure years ago, and it's quite different than these original plans,' Minerva was saying when Dumbledore approached her and the work crew. 'The ceiling is arched now, not planar, and the angle between the wall and ceiling is significantly higher.' Dumbledore suppressed a smile as he watched the wizard she had been speaking to, a portly man named Smye, frown in concentration as they bent over the blueprints.
'But the spells that damaged the school, they overcame the original spells set on the castle's structure?' he asked, his thick eyebrows contracting over his deep-set eyes. Minerva sighed exasperatedly, and was prepared to explain it for the last time when she caught sight of Dumbledore. Her face brightened.
Dumbledore felt a slight pang of guilt when he saw her face. He knew the others, predominantly Poppy and Pomona, were not particularly pleased with him for failing to limit Minerva's workload this summer. She did work for him, work for the school, work for the staff – and now he had added the ministry on top of it. Despite what he had told Trudy, Minerva's presence at the school wasn't mandatory, but rather, preferred. And Minerva, being an entirely selfless person, had grudgingly agreed. The result of all of this was a Professor McGonagall who sported faint shadows under her eyes and a slighter thinner figure than was healthy.
The crew was currently working outside on the front lawn. Someone had conjured a table, and now quills, bottles of ink, and rolls of parchment lay all over it. Minerva had been pointing to a detailed illustration of the fourth floor corridor, but now she rolled it up and turned to face Albus.
'Good afternoon, gentlemen,' Dumbledore greeted the navy robe-clad workers with a slight inclination of his head. 'I am terribly sorry to interrupt, but the hour is now,' he paused as the clock chimed twelve in the distance, 'noon, and time for a break.' He smiled cheerfully, his half-moon spectacles glinting happily in the sun. 'Minerva, might I prevail upon you to join me for lunch?'
Minerva looked both annoyed and relieved, but she nodded her agreement. 'Of course, Headmaster.' She turned to Smye, who was fumbling with rolls of parchment. 'I shall bring the most current blueprints to you tomorrow morning. May I trust that you are capable of functioning until then?' Smye flinched slightly at the tone of sarcasm in her voice but nodded quickly, and Minerva departed.
Minerva's emerald summer robes rustled brusquely as she swept by Dumbledore and up the front steps into the castle. Dumbledore's long strides quickly caught up to Minerva's irritated gait, but she slowed as soon as they were a decent distance from the front lawn. She sighed almost inaudibly.
'You look tired, Minerva,' Dumbledore said gently, reaching out a concerned hand to touch her arm. 'Are you sure this isn't too much for you?' Minerva glanced at him.
'It's not the amount of work, but rather, the type, I suppose,' Professor McGonagall said slowly. 'I know they're all irritated with my perfectionism, but really, it's Hogwarts, they can't possibly expect me to accept second-best.' Minerva paused and glanced at Dumbledore. 'Truthfully: Am I too finicky?'
'You've never stood for anything less than what you or anyone else is capable of, Minerva, and I certainly wouldn't expect you to change that now,' Dumbledore replied. 'You simply believe, and rightly so, that everyone should perform to the best of their ability, to achieve their full potential. I for one certainly appreciate the complexity of the work you've done for Hogwarts, and what you continue to do. It is not your responsibility to repair the castle, Minerva,' Dumbledore said firmly. 'You are human.'
It was one of those statements that only Albus Dumbledore could make without Minerva tensing up and refusing to listen to. It was true that she accepted only the best of herself, but she did have a tendency to overestimate what her best actually was. Only Dumbledore could remind her that she did have limits, both physically and mentally, without her getting angry.
'Thank you,' she finally said. Their pace had slowed to a lazy, leisurely walk. 'I suppose you are right. Still, I shan't stop now; I've begun this project already. Perhaps, however,' she said slowly, almost hesitantly, as if she were unsure of how to do it, 'perhaps could you take care of the hiring of the Defence teacher? I'll help, certainly,' she hastened to add, 'but-.'
'Minerva,' Dumbledore interrupted steadily, 'I shall take care of the hiring of our remaining open position. In fact,' he added, eyes twinkling, 'I forbid you to help at all.' He watched her, hoping for one of her rare smiles, or, even more scarce, a laugh. Blessedly, he was not disappointed.
Minerva laughed, finally, and she appeared years younger when she did, her pale face suffusing with a pink glow and her eyes shining. 'Thank you, Albus. I truly appreciate it. Don't expect me to skive off any more work, though,' she added sternly, but her teasing countenance contradicting her tone.
They had stopped walking now, and stood face to face. 'Anytime, Minerva,' Dumbledore told her sincerely, with a smile. On an impulse, he pulled her into his arms and embraced her tightly, and, after a moment of stiffening, she hugged him back. They stood like that for a moment, simply taking pleasure in the other's warm arms.
Finally, inevitably, they pulled apart. 'And now,' Dumbledore said with the brightest of smiles, 'to lunch!'
'Um, so, his name is Hagrid?' Trudy questioned, attempting to hide her nervousness as she struggled to keep up with Professor McGonagall's purposeful stride. Minerva seemed to notice that Trudy was half jogging, and consciously slowed her pace, allowing the younger witch to catch up. The sun was still shining, as it had been that morning, but now a few grey clouds had begun to drift across the sky. Trudy wondered where they were going, as Hagrid apparently did not live in the castle.
It had been a lovely tour of the castle; Professor Flitwick, it seemed, was very knowledgeable about hidden doorways and tapestries and such. The first thing he had done was to show her the trick stair in the grand staircase, explaining that it was almost automatic for most of the students to skip it, but that a first-year or two might require assistance. He had also, as if sensing Trudy's curiosity, explained Dumbledore's unfinished story about Minerva's first term as a teacher.
'He offered her a tour, as he did everyone,' Professor Flitwick had said cheerfully, bouncing along beside Trudy. 'Minerva, you have to understand, came to work here only thirteen years after she'd graduated,' a quick calculation had told Trudy that Minerva had been thirty-one; a shockingly young age, 'and she assured Dumbledore that a tour wasn't necessary. But Dumbledore told her that it would be his pleasure. Well,' Flitwick had chuckled, 'apparently, Minerva told Dumbledore that her memory was as good as it had always been, that she could remember important things – such as meetings – and that she really did not feel a tour of the school was necessary. She could, she assured him, find her way around and still manage to be on time for essential commitments.' Trudy hadn't understood the humour in the situation until Flitwick reminded her that Dumbledore had in fact been late to meeting Minerva at the gates on her first day. He had ended the story by saying that, according to Slughorn, the staff had burst into amused applause at the end of Minerva's speech and it was then that Minerva was fully accepted into the faculty, despite previous reservations about her age.
Professor Flitwick had then made sure that Trudy knew where all of the main classrooms were, as well as teachers' offices, the staffroom, the House common rooms, and the fastest way to the Great Hall. He had provided a running commentary throughout the excursion, and eventually Trudy didn't even hear the once-shrill squeak in his voice.
Now, however, Professor McGonagall was taking her to see Hagrid, and despite quiet reassurances from the rest of the staff that Hagrid was entirely harmless, and in fact a very kind and caring man, she was still twisting her hands nervously in her robe pockets. Surprisingly, Slughorn's declaration that Hagrid was an excellent drinking partner hadn't made Trudy feel all that better, a fact that did not escape Pomona's notice, who had hit the Potions master over the head with a cushion when he had finished speaking.
'Yes, Rubeus Hagrid,' Professor McGonagall said, answering Trudy's earlier question. 'He's around my age; in fact, he was only three or four years behind me in school.' Trudy didn't know the full story of Hagrid's removal from Hogwarts, only that his name had been cleared a few years ago.
'He's the Gamekeeper, then?' Trudy asked, squinting in the bright sunlight as they made their way down the front lawn.
'Yes, and Care of Magical Creatures teacher,' Professor McGonagall replied shortly. 'Here we are.' Trudy sensed that she had said this quickly so as to avoid any disbelieving questions on Trudy's part about Hagrid's status as a teacher.
'Hagrid!' Minerva called as he emerged from the forest. This was just as well, for her voice had masked Trudy's gasp of astonishment. Hagrid was huge, wider and taller than anyone she's ever met or seen, with massive hands and enormous feet. More than that, however, was his appearance: Hagrid just seemed so wild. His bushy hair and beard, the same dark colour as Professor McGonagall's, were rough and uncombed, and he moved with all the grace of a small elephant. However, his ink-black eyes glittered with kindness.
'Professor McGonagall!' Hagrid greeted her cheerfully. 'Professor Dumbledore tol' me you might be comin' down this afternoon.' His hands were covered in dirt, mud, and a strange silvery substance, but he drew a handkerchief the size of a bed sheet from under his colossal moleskin coat and wiped his hands off before offering Trudy a handshake.
'Hagrid, this is Trudy Crawford, our new Muggle Studies teacher. Ms Crawford, this is Hagrid,' Professor McGonagall introduced as they shook hands. Hagrid immense hand completely covered Trudy's small one.
'Hi!' Trudy squeaked, in a voice that might have been mistaken for Professor Flitwick's. She looked up into Hagrid's smudged face and saw his beard twitch in a smile. She felt marginally more comfortable.
'I jus' got a new thestral trained, you wanna come see 'im?' Good feeling gone.
Professor McGonagall smiled ever so slightly. 'Thank you, Hagrid, but I think we ought to limit the – ah – excitement of Ms Crawford's first visit.' Hagrid looked slightly crestfallen, but invited them in for tea. Trudy's voice didn't seem to be working, so Professor McGonagall accepted for her.
'You don't have to eat anything,' she muttered in a low voice as they followed Hagrid into a wooden hut on the edge of the forest. Trudy swallowed and trailed after them, not knowing what to expect on the inside. Dead rats? Bones hanging from the ceiling?
The interior of the hut, however, was surprisingly comfortable. Aside from the fact that nearly everything was five times too big, Trudy found it quite charming. An amount of some strange white-silver hair hung from the wall, and a cauldron hung over an empty fireplace. Trudy climbed into a chair that left her feet hanging two feet off the ground and accepted the bucket-sized cup of tea that Hagrid offered her. He also put a plate of 'me home-made rock cakes' on the table. Trudy noticed that Professor McGonagall didn't touch them, and decided to follow suit.
'Did you see Dumbledore this morning, Hagrid?' Professor McGonagall questioned, adding milk to her hot tea before sipping it. Trudy decided this meant that it was safe to drink. The liquid, though scalding, was actually quite good.
'Yeah, he came down ter me hut this morning. Mentioned that you might stop by this afternoon. Glad for the warnin' though, 'cause I'd planned ter continue searchin' fer that unicorn, an' I didn't want to miss yer visit.'
'Injured unicorn? That doesn't happen very often, does it?' Professor McGonagall asked curiously, taking another sip of tea.
Hagrid seemed very enthused about talking about magical creatures, a fact that Professor McGonagall seemed to know, because she looked almost smug as Hagrid enthusiastically answered her question.
'No, it don't, that's why I'm worried, see. Ain't much that can hurt a unicorn, right, and when they do get injured, it usually isn't bad. But I been seeing a lot o' that blood around, an' that worries me a bit.' Hagrid nodded towards his once silver-stained hands, and Trudy, even with her limited knowledge of magical creatures, realized that it had been unicorn blood.
Trudy tuned out of the conversation, simply taking comfort in the air of companionship that floated around the two old friends. Hagrid's hut was warm and comfortable, and she could even try to ignore his monstrous size. She came back to herself with a start when she heard her name mentioned.
'D'you have any family, Miss?' Hagrid asked, munching on a rock cake. Trudy started.
'My parents live in Surrey, and I have a cousin I'm fairly close to, and he lives up in Sheffield, but other than that, there's no one, really,' Trudy said, feeling slightly put out at Hagrid's appellation of her. Miss? She was fifty-five, after all.
'Sheffield? What does he do there?' Professor McGonagall asked. Trudy was unable to tell if she was just being polite of if she was genuinely curious.
'I think it has to do with ensuring that wizards are properly concealing any magical pets they may have. I know there was a case once where a man had a winged horse out in his front garden, and these muggles saw it. I suppose because most people are fairly distanced from everyone else, they aren't as careful as they should be with magical concealment. So these two muggles, an old married couple, I think it was, thought they were going insane and checked into a hospital and everything before their memories could be modified, it was a real mess.'
The subject of magical creatures and their camouflage lasted them another hour and a half. Finally, though, Professor McGonagall glanced at her watch and shifted her long-since emptied tea cup before addressing Hagrid.
'Thank you very much for the tea, Hagrid. I shall have to come back again soon, and see that hippogriff, what's her name? – Shorttail and her foal. Will you be at dinner?' Professor McGonagall rose and smoothed out her robes.
'Reckon so, M'nerva. Take some o' them rock cakes, if you like,' Hagrid offered, collecting the giant cups. Laden down with rock cakes, Trudy and Professor McGonagall bade Hagrid a good afternoon and set out for the castle, the sun a good deal lower in the sky than it had been. Trudy estimated it to be about four o'clock.
They had almost reached the castle when Madam Pomfrey came out the front doors. 'Minerva, how are you? How was Hagrid?' She nodded politely to Trudy, who dipped her head in return.
'He was fine, Poppy. How about you, where are you going?' Professor McGonagall replied.
'I was just off for a walk, but I think I'll just head back in now. Would the two of you like to stop by my office? You can't have eaten at Hagrid's,' Poppy offered, surprising Trudy out of her silence.
'No, thank you very much, Madam Pomfrey. I really ought to return to my rooms, and, well, dispose of these cakes. I shall see you at dinner, though?' Trudy said politely.
'Yes, of course,' Madam Pomfrey replied. 'And do call me Poppy, dear, if you wish. Minerva,' turning to her, 'are you coming?' Trudy got the sense that Minerva and Poppy were closer than she'd originally thought. It seemed as though there was no one on staff that Professor McGonagall hadn't gone to school with, been taught by, or been teaching alongside for at least twenty years.
'Yes, that's fine,' Minerva decided. 'I've been meaning to talk to you anyway, Poppy. Come along. Trudy, your rooms are on the way, are you coming?' Trudy nodded happily and fell into step beside Poppy as they entered the castle. She bid the two friends a good afternoon, promised to see them at dinner, and entered her own quarters, tired but happy.
TBC
That was a fair bit longer than the other chapters, I think. :) Please review, and happy reading, as always!