A/N: Happy Saturday All! I'm so sorry that it has taken me a while to update (comparitively, at least). I've been working 12 hour days all week-exhausted! This is just a short snippet, but I'm hoping you enjoy it and it ties you over until I get the next chapter out. That will be substantially sooner if I have any say! So without further ado, Fred & George!
Minerva sat on the edge of the counter, swinging her legs idly as she hummed under her breath. She had arrived promptly at ten—along with a dozen customers trying to make last minute purchases before returning to Hogwarts. That was all immediately following the screech of their only sales girl going into early labor.
It was now 11:30 and needless to say, Minerva was left waiting.
She found herself increasingly amused by the horde of students and their effect on Fred & George. At one point, she saw Fred shaking his head as he pulled a product down from the top shelf, muttering to himself about 'this generation' and how they 'lacked creativity'. Minerva chuckled at that, seeing as how Fred and George banked on their customer's lack of creativity.
At this point there was only one boy left in the shop—it seemed that the second year had managed to escape his mother just long enough to sneak into the shop, and demand 10 Skiving Snackboxes.
"No!" George shouted over his shoulder, approaching Minerva at the counter. "I'm not selling you 10 Snackboxes in one go, kid. We sell days off—extra breaks from double potions—not failed classes."
"I won't use them all!" the freckled boy whined.
"Absolutely not. Three boxes is the max."
The student swore under his breath before tossing the money on the counter and stalking out of the store. "I never thought I would see the day that George Weasely was lecturing someone about being a responsible student."
He shrugged slightly, "Even we have standards. Sure, we skipped a decent number of classes, but we never missed an exam, and our homework was always on time. We just preferred to do most of our studying outside of class—and on a more specialized subject matter."
"I can't argue with your results," Minerva admitted, fingering one of the boxes of Canary Creams beside her. "Some of this merchandise demonstrates a potions and charms level which is far beyond what most Hogwarts Graduates could obtain. I dare say you both could have earned Masteries in the subjects."
At that moment, Fred hopped up on the counter next to Minerva, "Did I just hear the great Minerva McGonagall admit that two Hogwarts dropouts could earn double masteries?"
"Which is exceptionally rare for even the best students to accomplish," George added in.
"I mean, even Hermione's only hoping to accomplish three," Fred continued.
"And she's Hermione. Brightest witch of the age!"
"Bookworm Extraordinaire!"
"Madame Bibliophile!"
Minerva laughed loudly, "I admit it!" She shouted, interrupting their banter. "But you are the exception!"
"Of course we are," George agreed.
"Certainly," said Fred.
"That's why we don't sell more than three boxes of Skiving Snackboxes at a time."
"Snarky bastards couldn't handle it."
"They'd end up working for Filch!" Fred said finally, causing Minerva to double over in a fit of laughter.
"I should have you two visit as inspirational speakers, I can see it now: 'We managed to drop out and become the most successful business in Diagon Alley—but you're not as good as us… or as good looking. So stay in school, otherwise you'll all be forced to work for Filch!' It would be wonderfully inspiring."
"Did you hear that Gred? She said we're inspiring!"
"And good looking, Forge!"
"I did no such thing!" Minerva snickered, "I said that you would say that you're good looking."
"Technicality!" the cheered together, causing Minerva to roll her eyes.
"So what did you want from me? I can't imagine you called me here just to torment me."
Fred and George looked at each other, a nervous frown forming on each of their faces in perfect synchronicity. After a moment, Fred took a breath, "So we have some news—but we don't know how you'll take it."
"And it's entirely up to you how to proceed from here," George added.
"Right," Fred nodded, "and we aren't going to tell anyone outside of this room what's going on. No pressure, okay?"
Minerva's heart sunk, a sneaking suspicion as to what was going on seeping through her, "Alright," she whispered.
George sat down on her other side, taking her hand, "Min, we found a cure."
"For the potion," Fred said unnecessarily, "We found the antidote."
Minerva's eyes opened wide, as she stared aimlessly across the empty shop.
George coughed nervously, "We were actually inspired by muggle medical technology. They have time release capsules; they cause the medication to stay in your system longer. We thought it was a brilliant idea, so we made a potion which works in the same manner—it was tricky, but it should work. It would take just over a week, but you would age about five years per day. That way you won't have any internal damage and your body will have a chance to settle overnight before the next batch of years is added."
"We combined an aging potion with four different healing potions, an antidepressant, and a calming drought. The last two should prevent you from going into shock and help with the emotional changes. It was tricky, finding potions whose ingredients wouldn't nullify each other. One of the healing potions is actually our own invention." Fred explained quietly, knowing that Minerva would want all of the details before making a decision. After a moment he said her name quietly, drawing her attention back to them.
She shook her head slightly, pulling herself back from her shocked haze. "I'm sorry," she breathed, "I'm just a bit overwhelmed."
Sure, Minerva hadn't really doubted that the twins would continue to experiment on the potion. She even thought it was likely that they would find an antidote eventually. But she always thought that would be years from now. She thought that she would have had more time to consider what she really wanted—frankly, she thought she would have had time to decide if this relationship with Hermione could truly be something.
Certainly if Severus and Albus had given up hope on an antidote, it couldn't be that simple? But it was. Completely.
There was a cure, and she could go back to her old age—having only been transformed for seven months. She could return to her old life without too much difficulty. A week of healing. A few months of awkwardness with her students. Then it would all be fine, and she would be herself again. She would be formidable, and legendary, and her. Minerva wrapped her arms tightly around her body, trying to remember what it had felt like before all of this.
It had only been seven months; surely she could remember how life had felt before the transformation?
But she couldn't. She couldn't find the aches in her bone, or the unyielding confidence. She couldn't hear her voice anymore, or remember the tightness of her hair pulled stiffly against her scalp.
"Minerva," George was whispering again, causing her to glance back towards him, her eyes wide and unsure. Looking into his eyes she felt her heart speed up and her breath quicken. Suddenly her chest was on fire and the room was spinning. She didn't even feel the panicked tears as they began to fall, but George didn't seem to doubt himself as he pulled his former Professor into his arms, holding her closely against him.
"Just breathe," Fred said quietly from behind her, his hand rubbing comforting circles on her back as she sobbed heavily. "It'll be okay."
Minerva shook her head shakily against George's shoulder, "It won't—It's won't."
"It will," George whispered.
"No, it can't—I don't know how to make it all alright again. I have to go back, I have to. You can't just start life over again, that isn't how life works!"
"Minerva," Fred tried to interrupt, but she was suddenly standing and pacing the small space in front of them, her arms waving wildly around her, and George tried not to cringe as her unkempt magic caused a display to fly off of its shelves without her notice.
"But I can't be with her if I'm 65 and her professor! I can't! It would ruin her life and her reputation, and I can't do that to her!" Minerva said, gasping for air as she ran a panicked hand through her hair. "It would be completely inappropriate—not to mention how different I am now! She probably wouldn't even love me as that person—she loves Mary! She loves Min! She doesn't love Professor Minerva McGonagall, Order of Merlin-1st class!" Minerva spat distastefully.
"Min," the twins called together, causing her to stop her tirade, stopping in front of them quickly.
"It's going to be okay," Fred said quickly.
"Take a breath," George advised. Minerva took a deep breath, exhaling it shakily. "First of all, Hermione loves you. Hermione loves you now, and she would love you if you went back to being 65."
"Personally, I think she already loved you when you were 65—not that she realized it," Fred admitted, causing George to nod.
"She talked about you almost constantly on Holidays, and read her Transfiguration texts more than anything else," George explained.
"And she would gush about your articles in Transfiguration today."
"Plus, there was the Yule Ball," George laughed, "She stared at you the entire time you were dancing with Dumbledore. Entranced she was—it rather irked Krum, actually."
Minerva shook her head, "It isn't possible."
Fred shook his head, "You're blind, M&M. That woman loves you, and she will love you no matter what you choose."
"And really, Min, either choice is alright. You didn't do this on purpose. If you want, take it as fate! You were meant to get a second chance—live a less lonely life, a life that you can actually enjoy, instead of fighting through."
Minerva hiccoughed slightly as more tears slid down her cheeks, "When did you two become so bloody wise?"
"When did you start listening?" Fred pointed out.
Minerva nodded sadly, "I don't know how to make a decision like this. I've made so many hard choices—but this, this is different. This is impossible."
"Not to be horribly cliché," George said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "But why don't you try listening to your heart for a change?"
Minerva shook her head fiercely, "My heart is run by the emotions and hormones of an eighteen year old girl—not logic or morals or anything useful."
"Who's to say that those emotions must be wrong?" Fred said gently.
Minerva snorted cynically, "Every love song ever."
George laughed lightly, "Well those love songs are rubbish, and have obviously never met the brilliant Minerva McGonagall and Hermione Granger. You aren't the majority M&M, you're the exception. Your emotions aren't leading you wrong here—you just need to decide what you really want."
Minerva nodded weakly, sighing as she glanced towards the clock which hung on the far side of the shop. "I have to go soon; otherwise I'll miss the train."
"Couldn't you just apparate?" George asked.
Minerva smiled sadly, "I promised Hermione I would meet her."
"Are you going to tell her?" Fred asked carefully.
Minerva just shook her head, "I don't know yet—probably. I can't keep it from her, can I?" Minerva cast a quick charm to wash away the salty residue of her tears, and take away the swelling around her eyes. "How do I look?"
"Ravishing, as always," George promised.
"Simply delightful!" Fred agreed.
Minerva nodded primly before pulling her cloak back on and making her way towards the door. Just as she placed her hand on the doorknob she turned quickly, "Fred—George?" she called out, causing the two to turn back towards her. "If I did go back to my old life—would this have to change? Us?"
Both grinned widely before chorusing together, "Just try and scare us away, McG."
I know, I know. It's so short! But there will be more soon!
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