18 February 2006

For the best part of her adult life, Minerva's Saturday mornings looked very much alike. She would wake early, take a walk around the grounds, finish her crossword while she had a cup of tea, and then head downstairs for breakfast.

However, on the last Saturday before the students returned from Christmas break, and feeling a little under the weather, Minerva had opted to forego her customary walk. She sat instead, a freshly brewed ginger and lemon tea beside her and a fire crackling happily in the grate, brushing the tip of her quill against her lips as she attempted to solve the last clue to her crossword puzzle.

"Remind me of the clue, my dear."

"Perfected vision, though some might find it a blurry business," Minerva repeated. She looked up at Albus' portrait, the only occupant awake so far. Indeed, like Albus himself when he was alive, it appeared that his portrait version had inherited his habit of rising at a very early hour. He often offered thoughts and ideas on these Saturday mornings when Minerva had a new puzzle to solve. "Any ideas?"

"Allow me a moment to consider the problem," Albus replied lightly. He pressed the tips of his fingers together and placed them under his chin as he pondered. "Hmm...Tricky."

While the cogs were whirring in Albus' mind, Minerva put the newspaper down and took a sip of her tea. She had topped it up with a generous dose of Pepper-Up, which she had hoped would help ease the aches and pains that reared their ugly heads whenever a particularly nasty cold lurked on the horizon. And although there had been no such luck so far concerning the alleviation of her general malaise, the Pepper-Up had warmed her up at the very least.

The clock on the mantelpiece chimed nine times, and, like clockwork, Phineas Nigellus, the only other early riser, walked back into his frame. "The girl is ready to see you, Headmistress," he said.

"Charming as ever, Phineas. I do believe Ms Granger deserves some respect, don't you?" Minerva said, giving him a severe look from over her spectacles. On account of Hermione's work at the Ministry relating to policy, and educational policy in particular, Hermione and Minerva had found themselves on many occasions sitting opposite each other, either at Hogwarts or at the Ministry to discuss a few professional affairs. Recently, it had become more of an opportunity to have a nice chat and a cup of tea, with work matters taking more of a back seat.

However, it was not a usual occurrence for Hermione to request a visit on a weekend, and during the holidays too, and Minerva had been wondering vaguely what could have spurred this urgent request for a visit.

"Let us not forget how I, or my frame—that is to say—was treated in 1998? Quite rudely and disrespectfully, Headmistress," he said loftily. "I do not forgive easily."

Or at all, Minerva corrected him mildly in her mind. She sighed. "No, I have come to understand that you do not," she said wearily. "Do please send her through, Phineas. I have made sure that the Floo Network is up and running this morning."

Phineas bowed his head and disappeared once again.

"Perdrigon."

"Hm?" Minerva looked at Albus quizzically. "Oh, I see!" she said almost immediately afterwards, and picked up the newspaper to enter the last missing word from her crossword. "I suppose I should have paid more attention in Divination class."

They shared a knowing look, a slight smile tugging at Minerva's lips before she turned her attention to the fireplace where the flames had changed from a brilliant orange to an emerald green.

Hermione Granger stepped out from the grate. "Minerva," she said, with a smile, "Good morning."

"Good morning, Hermione," Minerva replied. She pushed herself up from her chair and walked around her desk so that she could clear some of the papers from Hermione's seat. Invoices, booklists, and letters to parents she was hoping to send that morning, weighed down the wing-backed chair, and Minerva transferred these to her desk, already groaning under the weight of papers she had yet to organise, and flowerpots Minerva had been charged to take care of while Pomona was on holiday.

"I do apologise, I should have been more prepared. My predecessor's proclivity for clutter seems to have rubbed off on me."

Minerva was sure she heard Albus mutter something unhappily under his breath.

"I can assure you that are as tidy as ever, Minerva," Hermione said, "which is why I rather rudely invited myself to your office rather than you to mine, as my proclivity for clutter is becoming quite unmanageable at the minute."

Tidying complete, Minerva returned to her seat and leaned her walking stick, which she was beginning to use more frequently now, against her desk. "I suppose that is not entirely surprising given all that must be happening in your department," Minerva said lightly. "Preparing for an election is always a busy time."

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "How do you know about that? We've tried to keep it all top secret until Kinglsey announces his resignation."

"You forget that I have been around for quite some time, Hermione. I have a contact or two at the Ministry who told me," Minerva said, shrugging mildly. "I also spoke with Kinglsey last week."

Hermione laughed. "I see," she said. "I thought you knew everything that went on at Hogwarts. I didn't realise your reach went as far as the Ministry too."

"I am a woman of many talents," Minerva said. She smiled. "But you did not come here to discuss all of this with me this morning. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Actually, this is one of those rare occasions when I think I can help you with something," Hermione said. "This information cannot go any further than these walls," she added hastily. "At least not until Monday when the new edition of the Daily Prophet is published."

Minerva nodded, a frown creasing her forehead slightly. "I understand," she said. "I hope you are not breaking any rules relaying this information to me? I am quite happy to wait if it prevents you from getting into any sort of trouble."

"I can assure you that my rule-breaking days are over, Professor McGonagall," Hermione teased lightly, and Minerva blushed as she realised how quickly she had slipped back into her role as a teacher speaking with a pupil, rather than a fellow professional and peer.

"Point taken, that was rather patronising of me," Minerva said. "I apologise, my dear. Do please continue."

Hermione did not look offended, however, and merely looked slightly amused. "I asked if we could tell you before the news is published in papers, as this rather relates directly to you—and, or the school."

Minerva's interest was piqued, and she straightened in her chair.

"It relates to Dolores Umbridge," Hermione said.

Minerva's features darkened immediately. "Causing trouble again, no doubt," she grumbled.

"Actually, not anymore," Hermione corrected. "I'm here, with the approval of my superiors," she added, "to tell you that Ms Umbridge has been arrested not only for her crimes in 1997 and 1998, but also for her actions while at Hogwarts. There will still be a trial, following official procedure of course," Hermione added. "But after all these years, I think we are finally going to get her for the harm she caused in 1995 and 1996."

Minerva was momentarily too stunned to speak. Whatever she had been expecting to be told that morning, this information about Dolores was very far from anything she had come up with previously. "For her treatment of students?"

"And of teachers," Hermione said. She did not say explicitly that she was referring to the attacks against Hagrid and Minerva, she did not need to. It was not an event in her life that Minerva liked to discuss, and she appreciated the fact that, while hinting at it, Hermione had not said anything more on the topic. "Also the attempted use of Veritaserum and Unforgivable Curses on students. Not to mention that dreadful quill of hers—"

"Her quill?" Minerva interrupted sharply. "What quill?"

"You know, the one she used to punish..." Hermione trailed away and her eyes widened. "You don't know about the—No one told you?"

Disliking being the one not in the know, in this instance, Minerva frowned and shook her head. "I have never been made aware of a quill used by Dolores to punish students," she said rather tersely. "What did it do?"

"It—" Hermione bit her lip, looking suddenly very uncomfortable. "It was a long time ago, perhaps it's best if—"

"If there is to be a trial, this information will come out eventually, I am sure," Minerva interrupted. "And as I was a teacher in this school at the time of these events, then I think I have a right to know what was happening."

"Yes, of course. Only, well—I wasn't expecting that I would be the one to—" Hermione broke off when she noticed Minerva's expression. "It was a Blood Quill. She used it during detention. None of us breathed a word about it at first. I think Harry was the first person who experienced it. Then we started speaking amongst ourselves, and then only to teachers well—well after she had gone. I'm not really sure where she got it from—Borgin and Burke's, perhaps," Hermione added quickly, as though if she delivered the news fast it would have less of an impact on her former Professor.

In reality, whether she had taken her time or not would have made no difference at all, and Minerva felt very ill as she thought of how ignorant she had been of Dolores' actions for all these years.

"A Blood Quill?" she repeated quietly, in disbelief. She cast her mind back to 1995 and 1996, that particularly difficult and grueling school year, which many people close to her, not to mention the staff at St Mungo's, thought might be her last. She remembered Hagrid had almost mentioned something to her when he had been escorting her back to the castle when she had first returned from St Mungo's. He had quickly told her it didn't matter and had moved on to more cheerful topics instead. Clearly, she should have been more insistent with him.

"It all came out when—when you were away," Hermione said, reddening slightly. "You couldn't have known. We were all very quiet about it, and Harry—well Harry holds a lot to his chest, as you know."

She certainly did, Minerva thought. But if anything this admission only made the whole situation worse, and not for the first time Minerva felt somewhat accomplice to the terrible harm that had come to these young witches and wizards who had been in her care.

She sighed. "I am sorry that I did not know about this," she said, and she was disappointed with herself that these were all she could contribute to this situation. If she could have gone back in time—no—Minerva stopped that thought very quickly. Meddling with Time, even if it was possible, would not be a sensible course of action. "I hope—I hope that you can forgive us, my dear."

Hermione's forehead creased. "Oh, Minerva," she said, "you're not in need of my forgiveness, or anyone else's for that matter. Everything that happened was—was out of anyone's control. You can't hold yourself responsible for everything that took place. Besides I didn't come here to berate you—it seems to me like you can do that very well by yourself," she added. "I came here to let you know of these recent developments, and that Professor Umbridge, or Dolores, rather, is being held accountable for her actions. At long last."

"At long last...Indeed," Minerva said quietly. She turned slightly in her chair, catching Albus and Severus' eyes so that they both knew that she would be quizzing them very soon about the use of this Blood Quill, and their failure to mention these events to her when she had returned to the school. "When will the trial take place?" she asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure. Soon, I expect. Harry and Ronald are trying to get more details. Neither of them are allowed on the case anymore, since they might be called in for questioning—conflict of interest and all that" she added, waving her hand vaguely, "but they still work in the same office, and it's easy to overhear bits of information here and there."

Minerva nodded. "I see. Well, should they overhear any more information, including a trial date, then I shall be glad to know of it."

"You will be the first I tell," Hermione reassured her. "But moving on to more pleasant matters, I do have other news to share. And I am pleased to say it is of a more cheerful nature." She waved her hand and a letter materialised in the air. "For you," she said, stretching her arm over Minerva's desk to hand her the letter. "I thought I would deliver it by hand, since we were due to meet today anyway. I hope you don't have any plans for the day."

"I think I might know what this is."

"I think you probably do," Hermione agreed, and she smiled as Minerva opened the letter. "I hope you will be able to join us, Minerva. It would mean a lot to the both of us."

Minerva looked at the card embossed with Hermione's delicate silver writing, inviting her to Hermione and Ron's wedding day. After so many years of terrible news and terrible hardship, Minerva could not feel more pleased that her former students could have some happiness and peace now.

She smiled. "Of course, my dear," she said. "And my sincere congratulations to the both of you," she added.

Hermione looked pleased, and her cheeks turned slightly pink. "It turns out Molly has been planning for this day for quite some time. Ginny and Harry also have been expecting it for years. It seems Ronald and I were the last the know that this would happen."

"You are not the first, nor will you be the last, my dear."

"I expect not," Hermione said, and she laughed. "Are you speaking from experience?"

Minerva thought of Elphinstone. He must have asked her to marry him at least 4 or 5 times. Guilt after what she had done to Dougal had prevented her from accepting something she knew deep down that she dearly wanted. Pomona had guessed as much, though they had not spoken about it. Albus knew, although Minerva, always private, did not discuss the situation with him often.

"That would be telling," Minerva said eventually. "But I might be."

"I hope to hear that story one day," Hermione said. She straightened and pulled her hair back into a messy bun. "Is lunch in Hogsmeade still on the table?"

"Yes, I think that's what we agreed. Do you have somewhere else in mind."

"Oh no," Hermione said, and she laughed again. "I'm just famished really. Shall we head down?"

Minerva nodded and eased herself up from her chair.