- Text Size +
Warm Milk and Tea


Eureka Viridi submitted her resignation. Her heart was broken too deeply over Jasper Odair’s sentence to life in Azkaban Prison and, as she wrote in her letter to the acting headmistress, she simply reckoned there would be no getting over the sorrow she felt so long as she was at Hogwarts School. And so McGonagall had written to Albus Dumbledore, imploring him to return to the school so that he could appoint a new Herbology teacher. However, the letter had found Dumbledore still trying to mend a broken Newt Scamander in New York and he had written back simply that he trusted the judgement of Minerva McGonagall to select a new member of staff.

The day that the new professor arrived was a sunny one and the Marauders were on the grounds, messing about and at transfiguring their trainers to have tiny wheels like roller skates and sliding down the curving stone bannister. Sirius was levitating Peter to keep him from smashing his face on the dusty ground when the new professor arrived, following after Rubeus Hagrid on the path, carrying an old fashioned suitcase, her hair in two short braids and a folded bandana tied beneath at the base of her neck. She wore farmer jeans that were patched at the knee with yellow patterned cloth and clogs about her feet.

Sirius stared, nearly dropping Peter in his distraction. “What do you reckon she’s here for?” Sirius asked, squinting, trying to see the nameplate on the suitcase.

“Professor Viridi resigned,” Remus said knowingly. Being friends with the girls during Care of Magical Creatures classes made Remus their information source - he had the gossip scene of Hogwarts tapped. “I’m guessing she’s the new Herbology teacher.”

Curious, Sirius sprang after her up the stairs and through the entrance doors.

McGonagall was running down the stairs when he stepped inside, holding her skirt so she wouldn’t trip and she hurried up to the new person with a grin upon her face and gave the new person a hug. “You don’t look a split different, Mona!” she said, holding the woman out at arm’s length after a moment with a smile upon her face.

Sirius watched, smirking, from the hour glasses with the other three, Remus staring down at his toes instead of the reunion happening before them.

“The moment Albus told me to appoint the new Herbology professor myself, I knew exactly who would be the one I’d call upon,” McGonagall informed her. “Professor Sprout.”

Sirius’s grin was wide as he turned to James, who was also smirking and stifling laughter. Remus was smiling down at his feet. “What?” Peter asked, looking between them, knowing there was something he didn’t get. “What?”

“Reckon that’s a right proper name for an Herbologist, inn’nt?” Sirius said, “Sprout?”

“Huh?” Peter looked clueless.

The farmer-jean clad woman smiled and knocked one of her braids back over her shoulder as it had snuck forward to hang upon her chest. “I can all but feel the stones of the castle dreading this,” she laughed. “Both of us at once again… and I hear Elphie’s here as well?”

“Had Elphie and Charlus - Fleamont Potter, that is - in my office at the same time just a week ago,” McGonagall said.

“Gang’s all here!” The Sprout woman said. Then, “Is Flea still with --”

Suddenly Peter snorted very loudly and both McGonagall and Sprout turned around to look at him, just now realizing the Marauders were there in the room and McGonagall scowled and said, “Come along, Mona, we’ll continue this conversation in my office,” and waved for the Sprout woman to follow her.

They all looked at Peter.

“I’ve just gotten it!” Peter explained, “Sprout like a plant, yeah?”

Sirius smacked his forehead. “You’re hopeless!”

James patted Peter’s shoulder with a laugh.

They headed back outside because the interest of the conversation was taken away ad the sunshine was just irresistible and so they went running off across the grounds to the edge of the woods behind Hagrid’s hut, where the other three dared James to transfigure Hagrid’s scarecrow -- he made it look like Filch -- and they snorted and giggled their way ‘round the line of trees ‘til they reckoned they were out of eyesight and ducked through, running across the bracken a ways - then popping into their animagus forms. Remus clung nervously onto James’s back, Peter up on his head, tail wrapped about his antlers, and the weighted down stag leaped about after a barking, hyperactive dog through the trees.

When they got to their little beach by the lake, they changed back and had a swim in their underpants. They splashed around in the shallow water, Sirius most of all as he danced about, shouting the lyrics to Yellow Submarine as Peter demonstrated excellent floating skills that baffled James (seemed Peter ought to have sunk clear to the bottom like a great rock). Remus got cold quickest and offered to go and start a fire on the shore for them all to dry off around and he crawled out of the water, shivering in his undershorts and grabbed up one of his jumpers to tug it ‘round his shoulders and quickly gathered some sticks and rocks and made a little fire pit that he set to blazing. Sirius was next to leave the water, though it was more because he wanted to sit next to Remus than because he was cold, and Remus, whose jumper was just huge on his frame, wrapped Sirius up inside it with them, each tucked into his own shoulder of the sweater. Sirius lay his head on Remus’s shoulder and stared at the fire, smiling and breathless from all the splashing. James and Peter came out of the water together a few minutes later and they all sat about the fire.

“Wish we had marshmallows,” commented Peter.

“You ate them all in the common room,” Remus pointed out.

“I know, I’m an idiot,” Peter replied. “The common room fire doesn’t taste as good as our campfires do!”

As the sun went down, they spread themselves onto the ground, the four of them lay about, head-to-head, watching the stars come out overhead, tiny pinpricks being cut in the darkening sky. James conjured them all hot blankets that hissed with steam and Peter turned into a rat and curled up inside of his, which he had twisted into a great knot that the rat’s tail hung out of. James hugged his knees as he fell asleep and used his own arm as a pillow… Soon, it was just Remus and Sirius awake.

Sirius kissed Remus’s jaw softly, then lay his head down against Remus’s shoulder. Remus wrapped his arms about Sirius and pulled him close, holding him protectively as Sirius snuggled up to him, contented. Sirius sighed happily and rubbed Remus’s shins with his bare feet. “I love you,” Sirius reminded him.

Remus’s fingers were absently moving through Sirius’s hair and he smiled, too sleepy to reply.

“I could live my entire life right here and be perfectly happy,” Sirius informed Remus. “I swear. Just knowing those two over there are alright and listening to your heart beat like this… this has got to be what heaven’s like. You reckon?”

“There’d be chocolate, but yes,” Remus murmured.

“The lake would be made of chocolate,” Sirius suggested.

“Brilliant,” Remus said with a smile.

Sirius smiled, “I figured you’d like that. I know how much you love chocolate, Moony.”

“I love you more than chocolate,” Remus said.

Sirius smiled, “The ultimate love.” He kissed Remus’s jaw again and fell asleep.




Elphinstone Urquart woke in his chamber with a funny feeling. He paced about the chamber for a time, then tucked himself into a dressing gown and decided to make his way down to the kitchens like he used to do when he was in school. He was knotting the strings on the robe and shuffling down the hall to the stairwell when he walked into Minerva McGonagall.

They stared at one another for a long moment. “Fancy meeting you here, at this time of night, Minerva,” he said.

It was very late, moonlight streamed through the high vaulted windows over the entrance hall below, painting everything pale.

“What are you doing up so late, Mr. Urquart?” Minerva questioned.

“Getting myself a cup of warmed, spiced milk,” Elphinstone replied. “Care to join me?”

She was hesitant.

“I don’t bite,” he said. “And you can make yours a tea.”

“Very well,” she said, and she followed him down the corridor, away from the entrance hall, to a whole other set of stairs that brought them into the area of the Hufflepuff common room, and he walked up to the great big painting of the fruit bowl and he gently reached up to tickle the pear, which let out a stifled giggle as the painting door swung open and Elphinstone waved his palms to allow her to step through into the kitchens first.

It was so late that the kitchen was shut down - the house elves either in their beds in the house elves quarters or else off cleaning the dormitories and common rooms, collecting laundry, and that sort of chore. The kitchen was only dimly lit by a smoldering magical fire in the hearth and a few lamps with lowered wicks. Elphinstone waved his wand to raise the wicks a wee bit, the glow of the lamps flickering. He collected a bottle of milk from the icebox and the spices he wanted from a large array of them - little jars on the wall. He magicked a teacup on the wood table before Minerva, who had sat down, and dropped a tea bag into the cup before filling it with a jet of hot water from his wand.

Minerva watched it steam.

When he’d gotten all his ingredients together, Elphinstone mixed them up in a thick mug and used magic to heat it up, sitting at the table so that he and Minerva faced one another over the corner edge of the table, tugging his chair closer to hers, his palms wrapped around the mug. He stared at her through his glasses for a moment, and he laughed when they steamed up from the heat of his drink, which he held so that his lips touched the mug. He took a sip, then put the mug down to wipe his glasses.

Minerva sipped her tea to test it, then spooned in the honey she desired and stirred ‘til it had dissolved, then sipped it again, nodding in approval.

Elphinstone replaced his glasses onto his face. “Heard you’ve hired Mona,” he commented.

“Yes,” Minerva replied, “Albus told me to hire whoever I wished, that he trusted my judgement, and I knew Mona was looking for something different, something new, and so --” McGonagall nodded. “It was a bit of a perfect fit - herbologist from Hufflepuff house that could also replace Eureka as head of house when the time comes. She’s staying through the end of the year, Eureka is.”

Elphinstone nodded. “It must be nice to have your friends back about you here at this school.”

Minerva nodded, too. Then, “Speaking of which. I’ve heard from Sirius Black that you’ve been speaking of Mia.”

“Isn’t he just the spittin’ image of her?” Elphinstone chuckled.

Minerva studied her cup. “I would prefer if you would not tell the boy anything more than yuo’ve already told him about her.”

Elphinstone looked surprised, “Whyever not?”

Minerva replied, “Must I possess a reason? Is it not enough that I simply do not wish him to know anything further about Mia Black?”

“I s’pose.” Elphinstone said, though he still looked confused. Then, “Is she well, Minerva?”

Minerva sighed, “Mia is doing very well, yes.”

Elphinstone mused, “I cannot begin to count the number of times I found the two of you getting into mischief about the castle. Do you remember the day with the rabbits?”

Minerva laughed, “Oh do I ever.”

Elphinstone smiled, “Talented, naughty little things you were - always into something - kept us prefects on our toes. Of course Mona and I were always looking the other way… but still.” He grinned. “Always getting away with everything… stealing food from the kitchens and hearts from the boys.”

“I stole no hearts,” Minerva replied crisply.

“You stole every heart, don’t you be lying,” Elphinstone said. “I haven’t forgotten the duel…”

Minerva turned red.

“Have you ever married, Minerva?” Elphinstone asked.

Minerva turned pink, “I told ye ten years ago, Elphie, that I wouldna marry,” she replied, “And I plan ter stick to it.” Her accent thickened.

Elphinstone said, “A man can only hope that things could change,” his eyes cast down to the mug.

“They will’na,” Minerva replied, shaking her head. “My heart is in Faere Dhu, as I have told yeh.”

Elphinstone nodded.

Minerva sipped her tea.

When she put down the cup again, she held it for a moment, her hands on the table… and Elphinstone lowered his own mug and move his hand over the wood to hers, taking it up in his palm, his fingers closing ‘round her. He inched closer and raised her hand to his mouth, softly kissing the knuckles. The skin on the back of her hand was looser with age, wrinkled. He smiled at it, though, for these were not idle hands. These were hands that had worked and experienced… and they were beautiful hands.

“What’re yeh doing, Elphie?” Minerva whispered.

He looked up at her. “You are a woman like no other, Minerva McGonagall. You’ll forgive me, of course, if I have never been able to look away?”

Her heart rate picked up. “Nonsense.”

Elphinstone reached out his hand, gently sliding his fingers across her cheek and she closed her eyes as he touched her face and she felt him edge even closer so that their knees bumped and he half-stood, leaning over, his fingers sliding over the wrinkles and dips of her skin, beneath her chin, slowly tipping her face so that she was tilted up at him, her eyes still closed… nose flared with nervousness… and Elphinstone bent low, his lips softly touching hers as he tilted his head to one side… It was a soft, respectful sort of kiss - a gentle kiss.

When Elphinstone pulled away, her eyes fluttered open and met his as his eyes searched hers. “Ah Minerva… I swear that I have missed the taste of you more than any other flavor there is,” he whispered.

She trembled.

He bent to kiss her again but she brought her palm up, stopping him, and she said, thickly, “We canna do this, Elphinstone.” Minerva shook her head. “We canna.”

Elphinstone sat in his chair heavily, staring at her, clutching her hand still in one of his… he stared up at her, “Give me one good reason, one that’s not just in your head, one that’s real, Minerva, and I’ll turn my heart off again as I did a decade ago when you walked away.”

Minerva stared at him.

Elphinstone stared back, a challenge in his eyes.

Minerva’s gleamed with stubbornness.

Several long moments went ast and finally, she tugged her hand away and she turned about and hurried from the kitchens.

Elphinstone sat, staring at the empty place where she’d been, and he sighed and finished drinking his milk, which was cooled considerably by now. He shook his head, disappointed. He got up and waved his wand to put the dishes into the soapy water filled sink, and pressed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, his hands in the pockets of his night robe… Elphinstone stepped out the painting and into the corridor and he had no sooner stepped out in to the dark hall than there was a rush of a body plowing into him -- a tartan green rush -- and arms that snaked about his neck and pulled him down, knocking his glasses askew once again… Elphinstone and Minerva’s mouths met in the middle, pressing hard and desperate.

This kiss was far less soft, far less respectful.

Far more passionate.

It could’ve been hours or seconds, Elphinstone would never be able to tell, but when she let him go, she stared up at him, her hair messy from running back, eyes bright with fear and a hint of pleading…

He said nothing.

He just kissed her again.

And Minerva McGonagall worried she might be coming undone at her very seams.