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18 July 1997
Minerva walked briskly through Hogsmeade. Her cloak was wrapped tightly around her shoulders and her hand was in her pocket so that her fingers were brushing the tip of her wand.
She arrived at the Hog's Head 5 minutes before she was due to meet Malcolm. Yet, as she looked around the pub she noticed that Malcolm was already sitting at the bar. He appeared to be engaged in a conversation with Aberforth - surprising given how untalkative Aberfroth usually was.
Minerva walked over. "Aberforth," she greeted the older man who grunted in reply.
Malcolm turned in his chair. "Minerva," he said, standing up. He pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm glad you came."
"Why would I not have?" Minerva said quietly. She glanced briefly at Aberforth whom she had paid visits to every week since Albus' funeral. He hadn't come and Minerva knew that deep down, although he would never admit it, he regretted it now.
Aberforth looked away from her, put down the glass he had been wiping, and walked into the back room. Minerva held back a sigh and broke apart from Malcolm.
"How is Helen? How are the children?" she asked as she sat down.
"They're fine."
Minerva nodded. "Good. I'm glad."
There was a short silence during which time Malcolm watched Minerva closely. Then, he took a deep breath.
"Minerva, have you thought about what we said last time?" he asked. "I mean really thought about it?"
Minerva suppressed a sigh — she had expected this although it did not make it any easier. "I have."
"And?"
"And nothing, Malcolm," she said rather tiredly. "I told you my answer would not change, and it hasn't."
Malcolm breathed in sharply and leaned back in his chair. "Why Minerva?" he said. "Why won't you come?"
"You know why," Minerva shot back. "Because the school needs me."
"We need you, Minerva. Your family. I don't care however many parents told you that they want Hogwarts to remain open next year," he said, referring to the several meeting Minerva had organised in the past few weeks with the Ministry and parents of students at Hogwarts. He leaned forwards again. "Any day now the Ministry is going to fall," he continued, lowering his voice. "And Scrimgeour is the only person protecting Hogwarts - you were the one to tell me that. Just come back with me, Minerva, and we can all go to Helen's parents' place together. The bags are ready and the enchantments are all in place. All we need is you."
Not for the first time, Minerva felt the sudden urge to finally give in and agree with Malcolm. She wanted to go with him — she wanted to see her family again and keep an eye on them to make sure none came to harm. She was also tired and upset and she yearned for peace after all that had happened. But she could not leave Hogwarts now.
"Malcolm, I can't," she said eventually. "I'm sorry, but I can't." She looked away briefly, then looked back into her brother's eyes. "I would if I could—"
"—you can—"
"No, Malcolm," she insisted.
Malcolm sighed. "I understand that you would like to protect all of those children, Minerva. But—but it's not like last time in the 70s. Last time, they hadn't taken over the Ministry. They wouldn't have touched Hogwarts—"
"They could have if he hadn't been stopped."
Malcolm leaned forwards. "Minerva, all I'm saying is that things are different now. You've done your piece - you helped last time. But you're not as young as you were then..." he trailed away as though he was wondering whether he ought to finish what he wanted to say or not. "After what happened to Dumbledore, Minerva, I don't want anything happening to you too."
"You won't change my mind, Malcolm," Minerva said quietly. She looked down at her hands on her lap then back at him. "Go with Helen to her parent's house, and stay there until this is all over."
Malcolm looked as though he was on the verge of saying something, but he appeared to bite back his retort. Instead, he exhaled slowly and brushed a hand through his thinning hair. "That could be months," he eventually said. "It could even be years. It won't be easy to stay in touch."
"We will manage," Minerva replied. She reached out to hold his hand. "It will be fine."
"Famous last words," Malcolm muttered.
"Malcolm!" Minerva reprimanded him. She gave him a look that resembled so much the one that their mother, Isobel, used to give them when they had misbehaved that Malcolm could not help but look away.
"Sorry," he said. "Morbid thought."
"Quite." She paused for a moment. "When will you leave?"
"As soon as we can," Malcolm said. "It helps that everyone in the family lives in Caithness. All we need to do is travel to Nairn."
Minerva nodded.
"Maybe next week," Malcolm added.
"Go sooner," came a voice from behind them.
Malcolm and Minerva turned to see that Aberforth had returned from the back room.
"I give the Ministry a week," he added. "I'd go sooner."