49. Ten Years Later
There was a troll in the castle.
She couldn't bloody believe it. In all her years of teaching… there had been fires and accidents and duels and yet… this took the cake. And of course it was today of all days. Because nothing good ever happened on Halloween. At least that's how it felt to Minerva ever since Lily and James Potter had died. Today. Exactly ten years ago.
Pandemonium reigned as the students were ushered back to their common rooms. Minerva had wanted to follow Albus down into the dungeons to look for the troll. But she got caught up assisting the prefects and the Head Girl and Boy, who had their hands full trying to get the students back to the safety of their dormitories. Some of them were so scared, it made them completely lose their heads. Which would have been entirely avoidable if Quirrell hadn't announced the troll like that to the whole school.
Grimly, Minerva grabbed two young Hufflepuffs by the scruffs of their neck before they could accidentally run off in the direction of the third-floor corridor. They had clearly gotten completely turned around. As Hufflepuffs they needed to go down to the basement, not up the stairs, following the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. What a disaster if while fleeing from a mountain troll, they would have ended up somewhere even more dangerous.
Which got Minerva thinking. What if other students had already made the same mistake? Quickly, she handed the Hufflepuffs over to a prefect and took the path the two young students had just been about to take. But when she got near the third-floor corridor, the only other two people she met were Severus and Quirinus, busy glaring at one another. Snape's face was contorted by a grimace and he was breathing heavily; Quirrell looked as though he was trying very hard not to be there.
"What are you doing here?" Minerva snapped. The last time she had seen Quirrell he had been lying on the floor of the Great Hall in a dead faint. Nobody had bothered to move him.
"L-l-looking for the troll?" It sounded like a question.
"But you said the troll was in the dungeons!" Minerva reminded him sharply.
Quirrell blanched. "Y-yes, but when I c-came to, I remembered that trolls… they like t-t-to travel in pairs. So I thought the f-f-female, you know the s-s-smaller one, might be up here."
Minerva had no idea if that was even remotely true. "And did you find anything?"
"Er – no."
Severus made a noise that sounded like a snort that turned into a hiss.
It was only now that Minerva looked at him properly. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," he snarled and pushed off the wall he had been leaning against.
"Then why are you limping?" Minerva asked, her eyebrows climbing steadily higher.
"I don't see why that is any of your business," Severus brushed her off.
Perhaps she would have held her tongue, but the man was clearly in pain. "This is ridiculous. Just let me help y…"
"I don't need your help," he insisted before she could even finish.
Minerva folded her arms, watching him favour his good leg while he tried to walk away. "Accepting help is a point of strength, not weakness, Severus."
He nearly laughed in her face. "Why, thank you, Minerva, but I need your platitudes even less than I need your help."
"And I suppose you also don't need a friend?"
Severus scoffed. He seemed to think that she was joking.
"I'm serious. Don't pretend you can't be friends with Gryffindors because I distinctly remember that you and…"
"Is there an actual point to you being here, Minerva?" Severus cut her off menacingly. "Or did you come here just to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?"
Rather than answer, Minerva took a page out of his book and glowered at Severus, remembering something she had almost forgotten for a minute there.
The two of them had nothing in common, and yet everything. The only reason Severus Snape wasn't in Azkaban with other known Death Eaters and the only thing that stopped Minerva from sending a curse his way every time she saw him was the word of Albus Dumbledore. And his stubborn insistence that he trusted them both implicitly.
For the life of her, Minerva couldn't figure out why.
And she wouldn't do so today either. Their stalemate was suddenly broken by a hellish racket – the kind one would expect when fighting a troll. But it wasn't coming from all the way down in the dungeons.
Minerva broke into a run. Severus followed close behind, even with his bad leg, and so did Quirrell, though Minerva didn't really care about him. She didn't know what it felt like to have a heart attack and she didn't particularly care to find out. But the way her chest tightened when she found three of her first-year Gryffindors in a girl's bathroom with a knocked-out mountain troll must have come pretty close. And not just any Gryffindors. Looking from the troll to Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter, Minerva felt hot and cold in quick succession.
On the anniversary of his parents' death, Potter had very nearly managed to get himself killed on her watch.
Once the initial shock had worn off, she exploded in cold fury.
No one said much of anything until Minerva had sent the children, who mercifully didn't have a scratch on them, back to the Gryffindor common room.
"We should probably get this taken care of before it wakes up again," Severus said eventually, eyeing the troll.
"I can do it," Quirrell volunteered quickly.
But Minerva couldn't help thinking back to how he had passed out in the Great Hall. Between him and Severus, she would choose the sullen Potions master every time. "Actually, Quirinus, I'd be grateful if you could let the headmaster know that we found the troll."
Quirrell looked as though facing Dumbledore was worse than dealing with an entire army of mountain trolls. "I think I should really better stay with the troll. This falls within my department after all," he pointed out surprisingly stutter-free.
And Minerva didn't feel like arguing. "All right, either of you then. Just get this thing out of here!"
She left to go and find Albus herself. But she only made it halfway down the stairs before he already ran past her on his way up.
"It's in the girl's bathroom, yes?" he said.
Before Minerva could even think to respond, he was gone without waiting for her answer. She huffed in annoyance, turned on her heels and followed him back upstairs. But she refused to keep running. Or she would never get her heart to slow down again.
When Minerva got back to the bathroom, the troll and Quirrell were gone. Albus was surveying the aftermath and he said to Severus, "I must admit I did not see this coming."
"Because it was an incredibly stupid thing to do," Snape replied.
"We can't all be evil masterminds, I suppose. Though under the circumstances…"
"Who are you talking about?" Minerva interrupted Albus, stepping fully into the room.
He turned around to her. "Whoever thought it would make for a marvellous Halloween prank to let a troll into the castle."
"You're calling this a prank?" Minerva asked incredulously.
"A fundamentally misguided one, of course. But none of the students were hurt. And I hear Mr Weasley, Miss Granger and Mr Potter handled the situation rather brilliantly and took out the troll all on their own."
"Yes, because of sheer dumb luck."
Albus smiled at her. "Never hurts to have a little luck on one's side."
"Is that all you have to say about this?" Minerva demanded to know.
"What would you like me to say? I didn't ask your students to go fight a mountain troll, but they did and they did so very valiantly. So I think we should count our blessings." He turned to Severus. "Now, could I trouble you, Severus, to go down to the dungeons and, after checking on your students, ask Mr Filch to come up here to, ah, clean up this unfortunate mess?"
Snape nodded and left, hiding his limp extremely well, but by now Minerva had other things to worry about anyway. "I will never understand how you can stay so calm in situations like this."
"That's because you're a wonderfully expressive person," Albus said, walking over to her. "But being calm isn't being unconcerned. I'm afraid I'll have to cancel our anniversary plans. Right now I don't feel it would be prudent for me to leave the castle."
"Oh, no, of course not," Minerva agreed. She hadn't even thought that far ahead.
"I'm sorry," Albus said earnestly.
Minerva shook her head. "Don't be. It's a day like any other. It's not important." She made herself take a breath. "The students are finishing dinner in their houses so the staff should be able to do the same. I'll tell the kitchens to send some food to the staff room."
With that plan in mind Minerva left the destroyed bathroom behind, even though she was very sure that she would neither eat nor sleep tonight.
Minerva had never spent too much time worrying about her looks, not when she had been younger and certainly not now. But she was just a little bit proud that her hair was still black as night and that she hadn't gone grey yet. Unfortunately, there were three things in her life that would probably change that pretty soon.
Cheering for the Gryffindor Quidditch team to have their first winning season since Charlie Weasley had played for them.
Trying to keep Lee Jordan from making inappropriate comments about it for the entire school to hear.
And watching Harry Potter fly on the broom she had gotten him – only to promptly almost fall off.
Somehow, miraculously, Gryffindor won the game because Potter still caught (or rather swallowed) the Snitch and he didn't even hurt himself doing it. During her time playing Quidditch Minerva had fallen off a broom more often than she could count or cared to admit and she had definitely ended up in the hospital wing at least once. But it was different watching Potter do it. Perhaps because Halloween was still fresh on her mind. Or because she had made Potter play in the first place.
In her excitement at the prospect of having found a Seeker for the Gryffindor team, Minerva had neglected to think about this. If Potter got himself killed while playing, it would be entirely her fault. And it became increasingly apparent that he had a knack for finding himself in situations that would be detrimental to his health.
Despite the Gryffindor victory Minerva was ready to hide in her study for the rest of the weekend, brooding about this. As it turned out, Albus had other ideas.
"You look like the Montrose Magpies just lost the League Cup."
Minerva didn't even bother to turn around to him. "Then you know I'm not in the mood."
Albus approached her anyway. "But we won. Or you, I should say. As headmaster I'm of course no more partial to Gryffindor than any of the other houses." He gave a little fake cough.
"But you are very much in favour of students not nearly dying, are you not?"
"Ah, yes, Severus told me about that."
Now Minerva did look up at him. "Did he tell you how disappointed he was that Potter managed to stay on?"
"No, rather the opposite in fact," Albus replied sternly.
Minerva raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. There was silence for long enough that she thought Albus might leave her alone. Instead, he clapped his hands. "Now, Harry is fine, Gryffindor won, and so it's completely out of the question for you to just keep sitting here feeling sorry for yourself. Especially since we have somewhere to be tonight."
That last part really did make Minerva sit up straighter. "No, Albus, we agreed that it wouldn't be right for us to leave the castle at the moment. We can do it some other time."
"But then it wouldn't be our anniversary anymore, now would it?"
"It's just a number, Albus. It's not like I didn't already love you before or after or any time in-between."
He chuckled. "Thank you for saying that. But I've always thought that if there is something to celebrate, one shouldn't tempt fate by putting it off. Just in case." He held out his hand to her. Before Minerva could think to protest, he added, "Please grant me some of the faith you promised me all those years ago."
What was she supposed to say to that?
Minerva took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet and out of her office. She bit her tongue and didn't ask any more questions. Whether by coincidence or something else, they didn't run into anyone while walking the halls. When Albus led her up the Astronomy Tower, the first hint of a smile appeared on Minerva's lips. She remembered a time when they had come up here to sit on the roof together. That had been during the summer holidays, though. Now it was November and it was freezing outside.
In the end, they didn't climb all the way to the top, but they did step outside – onto a little roof terrace that Minerva had never even known existed. Or perhaps it hadn't before tonight? When it came to Hogwarts (and Albus Dumbledore), anything was possible. In any case, this looked a lot more comfortable than the top of the roof. A couple of torches lit up as soon as they approached and they generated just enough (magical) warmth to keep out most of the cold while still allowing Minerva to feel the wonderfully crisp night air on her face. In the middle of the terrace stood a chaise lounge, a table with a little bit to eat and drink and something that looked like a very old gramophone.
"What's this?" Minerva asked, not sure if she meant the record player or all of it.
With a lazy flick of Albus' wand, music started playing. "It's an opera," he explained, "called Minerva."
She snorted in surprise and amusement. "What? Why have I never heard of it before?"
"It's not very well known, I'm afraid. Apparently, the composer died in some obscurity in the 1500s. I recently came across it and I thought we might enjoy listening to it together."
Minerva thought she would enjoy simply being here with him in this wondrous little place. She had complete faith that no one in the castle would chance upon them.
Albus settled on the chaise lounge. Minerva could then make herself comfortable in his arms. He conjured a blanket for them, not because it was necessary, but because it made them feel even more at home. And then they just listened.
Minerva had never learned Italian, but while she could hear the beautifully foreign words, she could also understand everything. She wasn't sure if that was due to the power of the music or Albus' magic, the latter being far more likely. It didn't really matter and she quickly stopped such musings. The opera went on for quite some time (it was an opera, after all) and she found herself unexpectedly drawn to the story. The singing was so full of passion, the emotions seemed to swell with the music until it was almost as though the wind picked them up and carried them up towards the night sky.
The Minerva in the story faced many hardships (again, it was an opera), but she fought fiercely and then… she died at the end.
"Oh my," Albus said into the silence that followed. "Perhaps I should have listened to it first."
"Why? It was a good story."
"I'm glad you liked it, but I would have preferred for her to live."
Minerva turned her head a little so she could glance up at him. "You're the one who always says that death is nothing to be feared."
"There's a difference between not fearing death and rejoicing in it," Albus replied thoughtfully.
"She died fighting. That's not a bad way to go."
"And a very Gryffindorish point of view," he added.
They were both quiet for a moment. "Thank you. For this," Minerva said eventually.
"It's not as beautiful as being out and about in the Scottish countryside," Albus hedged.
"We're surrounded by Scottish countryside," Minerva insisted. "I didn't want to leave the castle any more than you did. I just wanted it to feel safe again. And to remember that ten years ago something terrible happened to the Potters, but there was also some good in it. And there was definitely something good for us. I know I said earlier that the handfasting didn't really change anything, but it did."
Albus didn't respond right away, which prepared Minerva for the fact that he was probably overthinking it. "Sometimes I still wonder if it was the right thing to do. If it was what you deserved."
"You make it sound as though you and the universe had a long talk about what to do with my life when in fact it was me. I chose to love you. It was always my choice and at every turn I kept choosing you."
"And I will never not be deeply grateful for it and never not love you," Albus replied solemnly, this time without hesitation.
A shiver ran down Minerva's spine. Even after all these years. Because she would never forget how precious it was to be loved by a man who did not allow himself to love easily.
Albus' arms tightened around her. "Would you like to go? Are you cold?"
As if she had ever been cold with Albus around. "No, I would like to stay for another minute. Or perhaps forever. Either of those."
She could feel the laughter rumbling in his chest before he rested his chin on the top of her head.
And so they stayed.
Thinking back to years past, remembering a love that had grown, changed and endured, and then as now looking up at the stars.
A/N: A little romance there at the end. Hope you liked it. Thanks to everyone who marked this story as one of their favorites - it means a lot to me :)