Chapter 48 – Rescuing Each Other

May 7, 2006

Still at the fair (Still at 5th Episode)

Many hours later, Minerva was still civilly interacting with attendees. She was currently with parents, three of their children presently enrolled at Hogwarts, when she mentally estimated the remaining time before they could announce the closing of the fair, to send everyone home...

But it wouldn't be any earlier than approximately three hours from now…

Would she have a chance to at least talk to Hermione today…?

Minerva couldn't feel any hope for that... The notion alone was making her want to leave this wretched Headmistress post in favor of the privacy of her room, and to go for a drink, to consume a whisky bottle, or two. At the thought of alcohol consumption, her body reacted, reminding her that it needed food as well.

In truth Minerva was famished; she had missed the early lunch set for Hogwarts residents earlier because Kingsley had taken too long to finally end their meeting. Afterwards, she had been so preoccupied with the last several tasks of warding the insides of the castle that she failed to even take a bite at the small sandwich she asked Blinky to send to her rooms… It meant that her last food intake was during that early set breakfast, approximately ten hours ago. She really needed to find a way to graciously excuse herself from her current audience and go to one of the banqueting tents for a bite before her body gave her a reason to match her emotions.

Just then, Minerva heard the latest call for her attention.

"Headmistress, you've asked me to remind you of that matter?"

Looking toward the direction the call came from; Minerva found her presumption correct, that the call came from one Harry Potter. She watched him as he apologetically but firmly inserted himself through the crowd to get to her side. For a moment, she was going to question him about what matter he was referring to when she caught the unspoken meaning in his eyes. He was rescuing her.

"Ah, yes, Harry. I suppose it has to be dealt with now." Turning to the latest people gathered around her, she gave her excuse with customary politeness, and then permitted Harry to steer them away.

But not even a few steps, and another couple of people were vying to impede the Headmistress, wanting to converse. Harry would not let them. The stoppage repeated three-four more times until Harry had enough.

Quite insolently, Harry clicked his tongue before uttering, "Yes, yes, magical ageing is no doubt 'more' magical with our incredible Headmistress. No wonder she chose to use de-glamour for so long, correctly predicting that the consequence of disbelief would be insufferable! But now that we can see for ourselves how unbelievably real it is—" he impressively gestured to Minerva and fixed the nearest wizard with a warning gaze before he carefully laid a verbal reproach, "Could we all just enjoy the wonderful Hogwarts' open fair without the need to suffocate our Headmistress?"

Minerva was planning to tell Harry that it was all right, that it was her duty, but she was stunned into muteness at witnessing his willingness to play rogue in order to create space for her, to grant her an excuse to temporarily be less accommodating as the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

A handful sniffed at the affront before they turned away, although the rest good-naturedly accepted the rebuke. Perhaps some people were truly guilty of exactly what Harry had postulated, for they seemed to have accepted to scatter at his suggestion. Minerva caught a retiring group signaling to others more or less what Harry had announced— to discontinue pursuing Minerva McGonagall's audience and to enjoy the spectacular fairground instead.

"You'd think they had forgotten that you're the stern and powerful witch who could transfigure them into nits with their pestering and obnoxious staring." Harry muttered in irritation.

Minerva was amused; Harry's strange and intense indignation on her behalf was perhaps too much, but she elected to stand by to watch how the rest of the situation would unfold. And on one hand, she wouldn't deny that her disposition was already much better than before Harry had plucked her from her well-intentioned but grating audience. She thought of how glad she was to have Harry in her corner…

Their conversation at St. Mungos' last year had nearly concluded in the lowest grade and possible severing of their relationship. While she believed Harry to have the purest of agendas, it gnashed at her insides, as she couldn't make him understand that he was forcing a kind of storybook ending… Could not make him see the painful contradiction to the true-to-life discord happening between her and Hermione…

Mercifully, that discourse that was sure to only blow up was diverted upon Ronald and Rose's arrival in Hermione's hospital room. And that particular first meeting with Rose had aided both hers and Harry's temperament beyond question, so that when she took leave and Harry followed her out, his parting words were of affectionate certitude and an accord to give the matter of meddling a rest. In return, she could only give him what she could— the sincerest oath that she would always be there for him…

Ever since that frank dialogue, they resumed having tea/dinner dates similar to the ones they initiated just after the war. And also they reflectively ensued with mutual agreement to isolate the subject matter of Minerva's romantic relationship with Hermione, or the lack thereof. It was not that they didn't mention Hermione between the two of them… That would be impossible. But both had reconciled to not cast the burden of what they wanted right now, to respect each other's reasoning, perhaps silently hoping that time would plow the way for these separate roads to ultimately merge. But meanwhile, they were content to foster the familial relationship between them.

And right now, Harry was definitely playing the role of protective family for her. He was placing himself as a figurative barrier against people so she could have a moment of reprieve from her hosting duty at this 8th commemoration.

"I'm not the one with that magical ageing—" Harry motioned idly to her face with futile annoyance, "And yet the unabashed attention they were giving you was smothering me."

Hearing Harry's continued crossness, this kind of interloping of his, the exasperated declarations of reproach, was nearly comical. Though in truth, she was touched just by his virtues of awareness, understanding and care for her state…

"I don't think you've managed a bite or a drink since opening." Harry's frown deepened even more. "Have you?"

He was, of course, accurate. She was indeed just contemplating this before he collected her from the onus of being Headmistress. She wondered about the coincidence, and let herself enjoy Harry's caring actions.

"What?" He finally prodded in a questioning huff at her still wordless reaction.

It was then that she decided to humor him. She lowered the volume of her voice so it would be only for his hearing before she attempted to mimic his intonations; she parodied his gripping argument of a year ago about finally discarding her de-glamour spells in relation to revealing her magical ageing.

"At worst, people will dare stare at you… talk excessively of how you are faking it. Or of how in fact, physically stunning you are… And yada, yada, yada…"

Harry laughed.

"I did not sound that patronising!"

"No," Minerva granted. "But one's own words do taste awful, no?" She baited.

"Ha! Never thought you'd be serving them back to me!" He lightly complained before he lobbied a jest in return. "I simply knew how you might be running out of patience and realised that I had to save you from committing the terrible crime of transfiguring people into mites."

"Thank you for 'saving' me, Harry," Minerva rejoined gravely, but her eyes glinted in humor.

"You're welcome," Harry audaciously acknowledged with a grin.

"So gracious," Minerva deadpanned.

Harry laughed, again.

"Let's get something to eat." Harry waved towards one of the several banquet sections while his other arm assuredly hooked with Minerva's.

Just as Minerva had predicted, people who probably were taking a break from enjoying the many amusement features of the fair were hanging out in the dining areas to chat, indulging in nibbles and drinks on hand. Why didn't she leave straight away after the formal ceremony instead of getting stuck here? She mentally groaned at the misstep…

Whether Harry was conscious of this or not, he had directed them not into the primary banquet, but to a fairly uncongested area… Nonetheless, she took one surreptitious sweeping glance, and confirmed that no high-ranking Ministry officers or special guests were in this section. It was a pleasant reprieve, no pressing expectations to perform her role at the moment. Still, she was mindful that several had turned their heads when she and Harry had arrived, though none had gotten up to go to them—a small gain she celebrated.

Food and drinks on hand, they picked and then sat at one of the vacant small round tables. And for a while they had fallen into a relaxed silence as they started eating. She was consciously taking her time with her food, as she feared stomach upset with the sudden intake. But she noticed that for all Harry's petulant talk of her missing a meal, clearly, he was as famished as he dug into his chosen assortment of scones and pies.

Not nearly halfway done with her food, Minerva observed Harry's hopeless attempts at containing a smirk at whatever was occupying his mind... Actually, she could guess what it was, his not so subtle roving eyes over her form quite told her so. But she was ignoring him.

"Did Severus Snape's portrait see you today?" asked Harry and he spectacularly failed to score the innocence he was aiming to project when he posed the question.

"Not you also… " Minerva groaned at his present inability to rein in his opinion.

"Sorry." Harry's face slightly twisted in contrition. "But I'd say that the clothes definitely added to everyone's shock."

Minerva sighed. "I knew I should not have discounted the second guessing when I yanked these clothes from the very back of my closet."

"You're stunning in them!"

"Mmmm." Minerva didn't actually feel so prickly with Harry's compliment, simply because it wasn't from anyone but Harry. Nonetheless, she muttered, "Let's move to another topic."

"Just one last one." Harry had his left forefinger in a supplicating gesture in front of him. When she merely raised a brow, he proceeded. "I just have to tell you that Ginny wanted me to tell you, and I quote, 'I very much like this new wicked aura of the Headmistress,' unquote." He rushed laughingly, before he added, "Also, my wife seemingly thinks that I must convince you to make those clothes your everyday garb."

The stammering from Harry was a bit amusing. And so she permitted herself to humor him, "Thank Merlin Ginerva Weasley-Potter approves." The corner of her mouth quirked up before she volleyed, "I supposed all the Weasleys approve, as earlier George and Charlie were proclaiming how 'bad arse' I look." She scoffed. "Apparently it meant— amazing."

Harry swallowed the food in his mouth before he cheerfully retorted, "Yeah! Very much true! Now you're not just an amazing person, but you also look amaaazing, Minerva."

Minerva opted to pull his leg a little when she asked in a severe tone, "Did you just tell me that I used to look awful, Mr. Harry Potter?" It made Harry spit out the drink he had just taken.

"Of course not!" Harry hurriedly redressed. "You know what I mean, Mim!" At a brow lifted by the older witch at the never slipped nickname, Harry embarrassingly remedied, "Ahhh… Minerva... Minerva! I mean… you know… you know, what I mean, Minerva." He chuckled at how ridiculous he was with his continuous sputtering, as he dabbed his mouth with a hankie, coughing a bit.

"You all right?" From teasing one second, Minerva was instantly concerned about air obstruction in Harry.

"Yea, just…but I'm okay." Harry vaguely indicated, before breathing in deeply and then expelling a long exhale to clear his airways. "I'm okay." he repeated.

Minerva gave him a sharp once over before accepting his assurance… Then a few seconds later, she started telling him of something very personal to her. "You know, Harry, my brothers used to call me that." She did not bother hiding the wistfulness in her tone, cracking a bit of the window to her delicate past; after all she was speaking to Harry.

"They came up with it? Not Min? Not Nerva? But Mim?"

"Yes. And only them... but…" Minerva paused, took a bite of her food, chewing and swallowing, before relating, "—much later, another one had also dared to."

"Let me guess, Amelia Bones?"

"Albus," Minerva corrected him. "Amelia liked to roll the 'r' sound when she said Minerva, would even exaggerate it to annoy me… But with Albus' case, yes, he once pried the story from me that my brothers had used the name to sweet talk their ways, and it was too late when I realised how he'd turn it around on me."

Minerva then began sharing with Harry how Albus had also resorted to using the nickname whenever he invaded her private quarters because he wanted her to do more of his paperwork, or attend some kind of meeting he would rather be far away from. She half-heartedly made an exasperated look at the flashing memories and let Harry's olive-coloured eyes decidedly study her face before ultimately hearing his unrestrained pronouncement.

"Your brothers were lucky to have had you as their big sister, no matter how short their time was in this world… And I am certain that Albus Dumbledore always knew how amazing you are— in every aspect." Harry's sincerity was radiating from his countenance, but he was not done. He proceeded to declare more. "You have to know that part of how great he had been in the last several decades of his life was due the fact that he had you covering his backside. And he wouldn't be surprised how these—" he waived around, "—are all under your leadership. How Hogwarts came back from ruin to its glory, and is steadily marching in its progress with your brilliance. I think that from the moment you sat with the sorting hat on your head, he guessed how formidable you'd be"

Minerva's heart clenched. She beamed at Harry's endearing declaration... And after sharing a silent understanding, she followed Harry as he motioned to their drinks. They raised their glasses, clinking them without further need to verbalise the regard for her brothers and for Albus Dumbledore…

Another series of moments quietly consuming more of their food passed by before Harry brought up a playful agenda, "Given my loud tell-offs earlier, how about we bet on who would be brave, or foolish… to first join our table?" He wiggled his brows and with eyes sparking in mischief he merrily tested, "Mim, let us see if the first person to approach us will be none other than Gryffindors?" He grinned, "I have so much confidence in our house!" He then deliberately repeated the nickname, "What do you say… Mim?

Minerva grasped Harry's lovely earnestness when he made use of her nickname, that he was effectually reminding her that he was a brother to her in this stage of her life… indubitably in league with her real brothers, as Albus Dumbledore once had been... caring for and loving her as family…

"Hmmn, you better make sure that name will not pass anyone else's lips," she warned. She was being overly dramatic, but she did not care; the pet name was special, as she had told Harry why. And yes, permitting Harry to use it had brought her a sense of closeness extremely akin to what she had with her brothers and Albus Dumbledore.

"Oh, trust me, people know that they would have to be Harry Potter— the boy who lived and lived to be able to call you—Mim, Mim!"

Minerva could not help but snort, shaking her head at Harry's repartee, but his eyes communicated that he understood how deeply the significance of the nickname ran.

"Alright." Her eyes glinted with fondness. "What do you want for the bet?"

"Um…" Harry lingered for a second or two before he stated, "I want a sure attendance from you to my next birthday dinner!"

Minerva ought to not be surprised that he wasn't asking for anything material, that instead he was securing her presence on his special day. She acquiesced lovingly, "I will bring you a case of that fine whisky that you like for your birthday dinner if the first person to approach us should be from our hopeless house."

"Yeeeeeees!" Harry's singsong was accompanied by a small punch in the air. Then he boldly upped the bet. "If the second person coming to join our table also belongs to our splendid house, I raise with a dinner date with me, next week, and it must be somewhere outside your castle, away from your duties, Mim!"

Minerva chuckled at Harry's antics. "You can pick the restaurant, mo bhràthair ghràdhach," She rolled out from her tongue the loving reference for Harry before she offered a hand to shake on the deal from across the table.

"What does it mean?" he asked, his whole face positively brightening before reaching to take Minerva's extended hand.

"It translates as, my dear brother," she professed in an answer.

Minerva watched Harry get up from his chair without releasing her hand, transferring to the seat beside her, and affectionately bumping her shoulder. They shared an exclusive moment of familial pledge in silence… It was only broken when he freed a long sigh. And at her questioning eyes, he ran a hand over his ever-wild hair before she got an answer in a voice not meant to be heard by anyone but her. "I am relieved that we could 'somehow' salvage this day from being terribly unbearable..."

It was clear to Minerva that Harry had guessed that her day was turning truly rotten, and he had rescued her. But alarmingly, she also grasped that it was the same condition for him. She wanted to ask him what had happened between the hours they'd seen each other, but he made a slight head movement that meant he was shooing the bad mood away. Minerva decided to refrain, as Harry apparently did not want to lay down the issue on the table.

Instead, she asked, "How come you weren't at the ceremony opening?" She wanted to add, 'How come you weren't with Hermione?' But she backed down with the additional question.

"Um, 'saw the long line at the entrance for those who didn't send their magical signature for attendance, I thought I'd give a hand with the vetting," Harry explained.

"We anticipated that snag. But I told them to get me if it was too much."

"I heard them consider getting you, but Professor Flitwick decided not to bother you. Besides, I thought we could handle it. We merely asked for the Aurors who were supposed to come in later to help out."

Minerva's final backup solution for such a situation was to tap into her magical warding connection with Hogwarts' chamber of secreted runes. The vetting would have been half consuming. But there was such a risk of highly confidential matter leaking out that she and Filius had agreed to only resort to it if it was terribly needed…and then he would have to provide cover if she was to employ the connection. Fortunately, it seemed that they had avoided the possible exposure.

"Were you stuck there for those many hours?" She asked in worry. She didn't want Harry or even others assigned at the gates to spend long hours with the job.

"Not really. By the second hour the queue was manageable, almost down to a thinning crowd." Harry replied nonchalantly. "But I decided to stick around. Then Professor Septima replaced Professor Flitwick in being in charge after the third hour. He kind of ushered me away with him."

"Thank you for helping at the gates and sorry for the hold-up." Minerva reflected on the possibility of that playing into why Harry was having a terrible day, but she didn't really think so… She took a moment before she lightly tested to see if she could draw Harry into telling her; "I've seen Rose with the Weasley clan at the ceremony."

Harry nodded. But Minerva spotted the slight break in his bearing when she mentioned Rose's name, an indication that he grasped her silent citation to the mother— one that was peculiarly absent from their usually tight knit group. But there was no follow-up from Harry.

Minerva swayed between letting it go and not. She knew that possible issues concerning Hermione were a thorny area fenced off by her own doing. But after some long uneasy minutes, her care for Harry won over and she delicately asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes… No…" He rubbed a hand over his chin. "I mean… We better not…" He breathed before shifting his body to be able to look at Minerva, and quietly stressed, "Apart from the fact that this is hardly the place… I think that somehow it might only lead to something that we have agreed that we must leave alone..." Harry sighed, "…until whenever." He waved a hand in ambiguous gesticulation.

It was a confirmation; it had something to do with Hermione...

The question begged, 'Was the matter exclusively between Harry and Hermione?' But Harry did say that it might lead to something they agreed not to talk about and that meant— it was related to this thing between her and Hermione… In whichever way, it would explain why the trio was not glued together today.

Minerva further dwelled on it, and came to the conclusion that perhaps it had something to do with today, 'Seventh of May'…today's consequential date…

Harry must have known that it was exactly eight years ago when it all started between her and Hermione, the unintentional same occasions of those times thereafter when she had not stopped herself from stealing a portion of bliss by being with Hermione... Or had Harry only known of last year? Was the gravity of what had happened afterwards at Azkaban and the breaking-out enough for him to be distrustful and contentiously back his golden brain best friend into a corner?

Again, either way, Harry was right, they couldn't discuss it. She didn't want to.

Something in her visage must have exhibited her decision to drop it because Harry ultimately withdrew his gaze. She was considering what to say next as she observed him pick up his cup and slowly take a sip. When he put it back down and met her eyes again, he made the effort to dial their topic into another channel.

"Do you need help cleaning all of this?"

Minerva understood that Harry's question was referring to the set-up of the fair… Just as Hogwarts' staff had put it up following a meticulous plan, they did have an equally meticulous deconstruction plan. And that included Filius' adamant directive that they begin dismantling in two days time after they had sufficient rest, and not immediately after they closed the affair today, in order to avoid mishaps. And the professors would just ward off the area to prevent incorrigible students from trespassing later.

As opposed to responding to Harry's offer about the clean up, she reached for his hand and sought his full attention before she settled into repeating a promise to him, "You have me, Harry. You know that, right? Whatever happens, all right?"

"I know that." Harry's immediate answer with gentle squeezing of her hand brought assurance. Then she heard him add in a whisper; "You can't get rid of me, Mim, no matter what happens."

"Aye, mo bhràthair." She avowed back.

.

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End of Chapter 48

Year 2006 – Rescuing Each Other

Posted 2023.0514

This 'mood' of Harry was coming from somewhere, I promise :)

Thank you to my beta brendathegoodbitch!

And thank you dearest readers!