Chapter Text
Professor McGonagall felt refreshed after quality time with her mother. She smiled soon after she entered Dumbledore's office. He greeted her with a wave of his hand and seemed to sense her mood immediately.
"You are in high spirits!" he commented as he welcomed her to sit. "Have you found pertinent information?"
"I have. I have picked up a Time-Turner as well." She placed the book onto his desk. The Time-Turner on its long golden chain was tucked firmly in the spine.
He picked it up and smiled down at the item.
"Ah," he breathed softly, "I have not seen the likes of this for a long time."
The man looked down at the book but appeared only to read a line, as if discovering the section text triggered memory of it. Albus looked up and smiled fully, a sight not many received; although many more believed they had. "It looks as though Hermione will soon be receiving a new gift."
"Shall I call her in for a personal meeting and give it to her then? I could arrange weekly meetings for a time, until she's properly trained and understands the theory. Or should I write her a letter in advance?" Minerva had pondered the manners to deal with this situation.
The Headmaster chuckled and gave the woman's hand a pat when he reached to return the book. "You sound as though you are brimming with ideas. I will let it rest with you. I am confident you will find the most suitable way to go about this."
"Thank you, Albus. I will contact the student soon."
Despite his confidence, Albus slipped into his more informal role—few would notice—and listened intently to all of his colleague's ideas. He offered an occasional suggestion but for the most part merely listened intently. His smile grew the more subtly animated Minerva became.
At last he glanced down at the clock embedded in his desk. "My! I believe you're late, are you not?"
Minerva glanced up at the ornate clock in the mirror and stifled a groan. "Xiomara will ring my neck. Thank you for the reminder."
"It is nothing. Go meet your date. Merlin knows faculty don't get enough time for them once the train arrives."
The woman smiled sadly, both at the thought of fewer romantic evenings and at the new thought that had taken root. "Another lonely year for you, Albus?"
His eyes sparkled as he stood. "Goodness no. I could never be lonely with a castle full of students, or with this office full of loquacious administrators."
The many portraits—those that were awake—began to protest, but the man did not take care, for he walked with the woman to the staircase and left the office with her.
~*~
"What happened to our plan for formal attire?" the grey-haired brooms mistress inquired when Minerva entered the Italian restaurant. The hawk-eyed woman seemed amused rather than upset at her companion's late and unprepared arrival.
"I've forgotten again, my dear," the long-haired female replied apologetically. She stood behind her chair and grasped her wand before whispering a few words. Her wardrobe transformed in an instant. A few of the surrounding guests gazed in awe. It was very rare for any witch or wizard to transfigure the clothing she or he was wearing without showing an inch of flesh—possibly a whole birthday suit—before new, occasionally skewed clothing appeared. Minerva guessed most of these attempts were not performed by those who had experience stumbling upon scantily- or sky-clad seventh years enjoying too much fun in the broom closets. She was most impressed with those. She even had to guess the sizes as she went along, all the while summoning the perfect scolds.
At last she sat and took up the menu. She was relieved with her companion's first questions.
"How did the meeting go? Does the bookworm get the Turner?"
~*~
When the two Hogwarts faculty members arrived back at the castle, Madame Hooch headed straight to the wine storage while Professor McGonagall brought her writing supplies to the faculty lounge. She set herself up in one corner of the large-cushioned couch and took out her green ink. She smiled to herself. Green ink meant important business.
"Not starting your acceptance letter form, are you?" Hooch inquired as she sat in the centre of the couch and brought the wine glass to her lips. The other glass rested on the tea table far enough from Minerva's belongings to be safe and close enough that it was in reach. The silver-haired woman added, "I thought we had ages before then. I'll be gutted to know it's so soon!"
"Still, woman," McGonagall intoned. She shook her head and laughed deep in her throat, as only few could trigger from her. It came easily now that she had been in the presence of three such people in the course of one day. "We have plenty of time yet. This is the letter to Hermione."
"You'll scare her half to death, writing it in your official green ink. She'll think there were important second-year exams that she inconveniently missed and has now failed."
"The imagination on you, honestly." Minerva finished her line and looked it over. She was overwhelmed with how much there was to express in few words. She wanted it simple and precise.
Hooch summoned a book after a half an hour but made no complaint. Minerva wasn't concerned. They were partners—they knew how the other functioned.
The Brooms Mistress stirred when her companion replaced the inkhorn and quill. The Transfigurations Professor bypassed the sand and merely blew on her new words. There was no reason to spell it dry. She had perfectly good lungs, after all.
"Would you like to read it to me?" Hooch questioned when Minerva's breath was her own again. The Scottish woman smiled and brought the paper to the right angle for her spectacles. She had been about to ask.
-
Greetings Ms. Granger,
I am sending you a letter in advance to discuss module selection for your upcoming third year. We could not timetable your ambitious selections but have found a solution to this problem.
I am including some short papers on the history and use of the Time-Turner. I have great trust in your research abilities. Please read further than the limited material I have provided.
We are entrusting you with great responsibility in use of this item, if you do so accept its use for your third year. We have confirmed that your use follows established Hogwarts procedure. It will be registered in your name for the purpose of attending multiple classes during pre-determined periods of time.
I am arranging personal sessions with you to further your understanding of time principles and Turner use. I have scheduled five thus far; we may determine the number necessary when we meet. They will not interfere with Quidditch or other scheduled events.
Please see me Saturday September 1st at 17.00, if you may. Respond by post if that time is inconvenient.
Enjoy the remainder of your summer.
Kind regards,
Professor McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Professor of Transfiguration
-
"As always, my dear, it sounds perfect," Xiomara offered. She stifled a yawn and manoeuvred to rest her soft head of hair against Minerva's tight shoulder. The woman laughed when she saw the paper for herself. "Sounds perfect, looks a mess. Suppose you will be re-writing it tomorrow?"
Her intonation was hopeful. Minerva smiled. Her companion wished for an evening's sleep now. Hermione's letter could wait until the next day.
"Of course," the Professor assured. "I slept like a child with my mother last night. It is only fair I remember how to sleep like an adult grown."
"Grown adults don't merely sleep."
Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting we attempt something other, you who was only a moment ago so exhausted?"
"I stir quickly." Hooch shrugged one shoulder and gave her easy grin. "And you've finished your homework. It's my first night back in the castle. You...got very good news today. How many more excuses do you require before I resort to puppy eyes?"
Minerva stood and offered her hand, sighing out her amusement. "Four. Skip the puppy eyes when dealing with a cat."
For this second night with a companion—one of an entirely different sort—Minerva did the leading.