In the Light Of the Stars

There were times it was a very good thing to be a witch. Minerva stood over the bathtub, aiming her wand at it, watching as steaming, crystalline water streamed from the tip. Once the bath was full, she let the towel wrapped around her body fall to the floor and gingerly stepped into the hot bathwater. Her knees bent and she slipped further under the water until her chin rested on the surface. Her eyes drifted shut in bliss and Minerva allowed herself to sigh audibly. The water soothed muscles knotted from sleeping on uncomfortable beds that even Cushioning charms didn't help.

'Minerva?'

Minerva's eyes popped open and she raised a dripping hand to her forehead. Maybe if I say nothing, he'll go away.

Knocks rapped sharply on the door. 'Minerva, are you drowning? If you're drowning, I'll blast the door down and rescue you. Use that elbow thing to expel the water from your lungs.'

'What?' she said wearily. 'Is it so important that ye hae to interrupt my first decent bath in days?'

'Frankie and Tony have some leave before... Well before...' Jack called through the firmly closed door. 'They'll be in London tomorrow. We haven't really had the chance to go to this Diagon Alley we keep hearing about. Since you're not at Windsor, I thought we could go tomorrow.'

Minerva's head fell back against the edge of the bathtub. 'Ye dinna need me to go. I can tell ye how to get in.'

'But I want you to,' Jack protested. 'We can make a day of it. And go to a Muggle place after dinner and see who can persuade you to cut a rug. I hear Covent Garden's all the rage.' Minerva remained silent. She wanted to spend the evening curled up with a book and a cup of tea. 'We're going to go in a group so you won't just be with us,' he wheedled. 'I think we convinced Neville to come with us and bring his fiancée.'

Minerva lifted her head. Augusta. She needed another girl to talk to about... things. 'If I promise to gie ye an answer when I'm done wi' my bath, will ye go away and leave me be?'

'Better hurry. If you take too long, you'll get all pruney. And there won't be anything left for dinner except powdered eggs and dry toast!'

'I'm willin' to tae that risk,' Minerva muttered under her breath. 'I willna tae as long if ye -go away, and let me hae my bath in peace!' she said louder.

'Oh, fine,' Jack sighed. Minerva could hear his footsteps clunk down the stairs and fade. She relaxed under the hot water once more. She did enjoy dancing, which would have been a monumental shock to most people that knew her. And it had been months since she'd been in Diagon Alley. She wondered if it had been touched by the war, as had the rest of London. Minerva slid all the way under the water until she was completely submerged. Everything around her faded, and for a moment, she could forget the rest of the world, the war, and stop counting the death toll. She wondered if wizardkind would ever engage in such a war, where one side dedicated itself to the certain destruction of a group of people strictly based on an absurd belief that they were somehow inferior.

xxxxxx

Minerva cradled a cup of tea, gratefully inhaling the fragrant steam, marveling over the fact there was real milk in it and not powdered or evaporated milk. 'You seem to be awfully cozy with the Yanks,' Augusta said.

Minerva took a slow sip of her tea, savoring the feel and flavor of the milky sweetness. 'O' course I am,' she said mildly. 'I share a house wi' them, eat meals wi' them, and the poor, pathetic buggers still try to beat me in chess,' she added with just a touch of pity. She shrugged. 'Have ye ever tried to live wi' someone and remain completely aloof?'

'There was that Myrtle girl in Ravenclaw that died last year,' Augusta replied pertly. 'Always sniveling about something,' she said scornfully. 'Even worse in death...'

'Oh, God,' Minerva groaned softly. 'Mind, I don't like t' speak ill o' the dead, but I've never wanted t' smack sense intae someone as much as I did her.'

'So what's the story with you and the Yanks?'

'Naught to tell, aye?' Minerva said stiffly, but she gazed across the street at Jack, Reggie, Neville, Tony, and Frankie, who had been accompanied by one of the British wizards involved in the invasion - Theo Grevas. Jack, Tony, Reggie, and Frank were virtual prisoners to the impassioned lecture Neville gave them about the intricacies of Quidditch. Neville pointed to the different brooms in Quality Quidditch Supplies, expounding on the differences between each make and model, gesticulating wildly in his enthusiasm for his subject.

'Captain Hashimoto seems rather fit,' Augusta said idly.

'Gussie! You're practically a married woman!'

'That doesn't mean I'm dead,' Augusta murmured. 'I'm sure if the captain desired to stay in England, we could find a position for him in the Ministry...'

'He's an Auror.'

'Even better. They need someone in the ranks they can promote to Head later. Someone charismatic who can lead.'

Minerva tried to picture Jack as the Head of some Ministry department and snorted. Not Jack. 'Too irreverent,' she retorted.

'That's not what Nev tells me,' Augusta shot back. 'He says the captain is well liked and well regarded by the others. Even the Muggles. Neville says he's quite clever, and tries to arrange it so the other Allied troops are as protected as the Americans. I'd say that's generous, wouldn't you?'

'We're allies,' Minerva explained. 'Of course he would ensure everyone is given as much protection as possible. She leaned forward. 'Even if he wanted to stay,' she began, 'I canna see him living here.'

'So go to America, then.'

Minerva shook her head. 'No. I willna leave Britain.'

Augusta sighed. 'Minnie... he's dead and he's not coming back. I don't think he'd want you to live the rest of your life alone from some sense of loyalty.'

'It isna that,' Minerva explained. 'Da's here. I canna leave Da.'

'So take him with you. He can glower at Americans.'

Minerva watched as Jack loped toward them. He stuck out in Diagon Alley, and it wasn't because of his Muggle clothes. He was brash, beaming, and supremely confident. He turned people's heads, but he didn't actively attempt to gain their attention. And Minerva most certainly did not want to stand out. British wizardkind valued their ability to remain unnoticed by the Muggles. They didn't routinely wear Muggle clothing, live in predominantly Muggle areas of Britain, and very few sent their children to a Muggle primary school before Hogwarts. 'Can you play Quidditch?' he asked Minerva.

'I was the Keeper for my House team. Gussie played Beater. Won the Quidditch Cup at school,' she said blandly. 'Twice.'

'So how good are you?'

'I'm verra flexible.' Her mouth twitched with humor.

Jack's eyes widened for a moment. 'That doesn't tell me how good you are on a broomstick,' he chided, after clearing his throat.

'What would ye say, Gussie? I allowed perhaps nine goals my last year at school?'

'Nine. Perhaps ten or eleven at the most.'

'We - the other boys and me - thought we could go out to the country tomorrow and play a bit.'

'Can ye even play Quidditch?' Minerva asked.

'Not so much,' Jack admitted. 'Our version uses a Quaffle that's been charmed to explode after a Countdown charm expires unless you can score a goal first. Quodpot. It's why most of our mothers won't let us play. Afraid we'll blast off a finger or two. But how hard can Quidditch be? Especially since nothing explodes,' Jack added with only a little scorn. 'That's a little bit boring...'

Minerva turned to Augusta. 'Why do Americans insist on taking perfectly good sports, like Quidditch, that have a long and storied history, and muck about wi' it I ask ye? Exploding Quaffles...' she muttered. 'Like the strategy involved in a game isna worth their time.'

Jack pulled out a chair next to Minerva and flipped it around, straddling it and resting his arms on the back. 'How 'bout a friendly wager?' he offered.

'Aye?' Minerva murmured, then lapsed into silence, waiting for Jack to continue.

'The loser makes breakfast and dinner for the next two weeks,' Jack said promptly.

Minerva glanced at Augusta and they shared a small nod. 'Verra well,' Minerva began. 'You Yanks against Neville, Augusta, Theo, and me.'

'Hold on a minute,' Frankie spluttered. He and the others had finally made their way to the table. 'Nobody said nothin' 'bout playin' with chicks.'

Minerva's shoulders stiffened. 'I'll hae ye know there are many fine female Quidditch players!' she snapped. 'In fact, we hae an entire team of women in Holyhead. They happen t' be one o' the oldest teams in Britain and Ireland.'

'So?' Frankie countered. 'That don't mean they can play.' Minerva's eyes narrowed dangerously, and her wand began to emit bright purple sparks.

'Best sleep with one eye open, Frank,' warned Reggie. 'Especially with what she can do now.'

Minerva and Augusta exchanged cool looks. 'Tomorrow,' Minerva promised. It was a promise she intended to keep.

xxxxxx

Covent Garden was loud and crowded. Uniformed soldier and sailors mingled with civilians, dancing with girls in carefully mended or remade clothes. Beer flowed freely, although one swallow proved it to be somewhat weaker than it would have been before the war. The band began to play the British national anthem and scores of people stood and began to sing. 'God save our gracious King, Long live our noble King, God save our King...'

Jack, Tony, Frankie, and Reggie stood out of respect for their host country, but Minerva could hear Jack singing in a sardonic voice, 'My country, 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing...' She gave him a strange look, but he merely winked at her, and continued singing his lyrics with a perfectly straight face, lips twisting mockingly at the last phrase. 'Let freedom ring,' he intoned, saluting her with military precision. She wondered briefly why he would sing words of freedom so cynically, then remembered his family, through no fault of their own, had been forced to relocate to a detention center far away from their homes. Reggie lived as a second-class citizen, only grudgingly allowed to attend school. Tony had spoken of cousins who had been forced to return to Mexico, even though his family had lived in the surrounding area of San Antonio for over two hundred years. For Frankie, it was far more subtle. Epithets regarding his religious faith and exclusions from certain places and activities. Yet, in spite of all that, all four of them had volunteered to serve a country that didn't view them as equals, despite the magical community's inclusion.

Minerva folded herself into a chair, sipping her glass of beer. The band played music reminiscent of the kind Jack had been playing on the wireless that day nearly a year ago when she first arrived at the house. Theo and his shy young wife, Amelia, were currently on the dance floor. Minerva remembered Theo from school. He was a couple of years older than she and had been in Ravenclaw. Amelia was a Muggle and Theo adored her. They danced no less frenetically than the Americans, Amelia's skirt swirling around her knees while Theo flipped her over his shoulders. Neville and Augusta's pace was far more sedate. Minerva picked up her glass of beer and sipped it, eyeing the crowd. Reggie and Frankie approached a group of girls, clustered on one side of the room, giggling at their jokes. 'Wanna dance?' shouted Tony.

'Who? Me?' Minerva was startled.

'Why not?' Tony glanced at t he packed dance floor. 'You can dance like that, can't you?'

Minerva's eyes narrowed at the subtle challenge. 'I can dance.' She took Tony's hand and allowed him to lead her out to the dance floor. Even without the aerial tricks that Theo and Amelia seemed to enjoy, Minerva had to concentrate a good deal to keep up with Tony's flying feet.

'You're much better than my sister Trudy,' he shouted over the music. 'She used to hate dancing with me because I stepped on her toes all the time!' He spun Minerva under one arm. 'Of course, it didn't help that I dropped her on her head trying to do that swingy thing Theo and Amelia are doing.' He gestured to the center of the floor. Theo picked up Ameila, hooked her knees over one arm, released her torso, then swung her over his back to the other side, where she landed on her feet, laughing. He caught Minerva's wide-eyed look, as if she assumed he'd want to try it with her. 'Don't worry! That was the first and last time I tried it!' Tony assured her. The song drew to a close and he bent her backward over one arm.

As they straightened, Minerva impulsively hugged Tony. 'Ye're much better than that poor Hufflepuff that had to dance wi' me at our last Yule Ball,' she informed him with a giggle. 'I was six inches taller than he.'

The reprieve was short-lived and the band struck up another lively tune. Tony and Minerva started dancing once more, breathless with their exertions. After the song ended, the band mercifully switched to something slower. Jack drained his glass of beer and set it down on the table with a bang. He'd been watching Minerva dance with Tony with only a slight glower. Deciding it was his turn, Jack wove through the couples and tapped Tony on the shoulder. 'May I cut in?'

'Of course.' Tony stepped aside and let Jack take his place, wiping his sweaty face with the handkerchief in his pocket.

Jack tugged her closer so they pressed against each other. He ran a hand under her hair, lifting it from the back of her neck before it settled at her waist. 'I caught my parents dancing to this the night before they had to report to the assembly center,' he said quietly. 'They were in the back yard, with their old portable record player, exhausted from spending the day packing up their things. It's probably the last thing they did that felt normal.'

'Where are they exactly?'

'Place called Topaz War Relocation Center. In Utah. Maybe one hundred and fifty miles away from Salt Lake City.' When Minerva's brows drew together, Jack added, 'I'll show you on a map later.'

She let her head rest against his shoulder. 'Did they like this song in particular? It's a bit melancholy.' Minerva was a little surprised to find they were at a different part of the dance floor. With most of her dance partners, she found she had to concentrate wholly on what she was doing. With Jack, she seemed to move effortlessly with him.

'Yeah.' Not as much as I do...

'What is it called?'

'"Moonlight Serenade".'

Minerva snickered a little. 'I suppose it's not verra popular with werewolves...'

'I happen to know a couple of werewolves who love this song,' Jack protested.

'Ye do?' Minerva blurted, stiffening.

'Oh, relax,' Jack huffed, wrapping his arm around her waist. 'We try to find them jobs out in the woods, where they don't pose a danger to people. Mostly they keep an eye on a few places where the folks who like to dabble in Dark magic gather from time to time. The two or three I know just want to be regular guys.'

'What do ye mean by "dabble"?' Minerva could feel alarm rising in her stomach.

'They're idiots who like to go around, dressed up in white sheets, and bully people they don't like,' Jack sighed. 'Most of them are Muggles, but there are a few wizards in there. They'll use the Cruciatas curse or Imperius their group to do something. Not that they need much Imperiusing to begin with... It's all so stupid.' Jack shook himself slightly. This was starting to border on talking about work, since it was what he would be doing, had the war not broken out. And he didn't want to talk about work just now. The music faded away and the band leader announced a fifteen-minute break. They made their way back to the small table, where Reggie and Frankie had delivered a fresh round of beer. Jack snagged two glasses and gave one to Minerva. 'Cheers.' He clinked his glass against hers, and proceeded to down the entire contents of it in one long swallow. Like everything lately, he liked dancing with her far too much for his own comfort, and it was either avoid her, which was impossible, or drink enough to blunt the edges. He chose the latter.

xxxxxx

Minerva stamped on the ground, raising a puff of dust, testing its hardness. If the ground was too marshy, getting a good kickoff would be difficult. 'It'll do.' She scanned the sky, shading her eyes. 'It's a little bright, but those clouds off the coast look like they could bring in a nasty storm.'

Neville strapped on a pair of arm guards and chuckled. 'It's just a game, Minerva,' he told her.

Minerva glared at him coldly. 'It's never just a game.' She dropped to the ground next to Augusta and rolled up the hems of a pair of dungarees she had recently acquired. 'Besides, I dinna cook verra well,' she admitted. 'If we lose, they'll hae to eat porridge and bannocks for every bloody meal.'

'But they don't know that,' Augusta said consolingly. 'Serves them right to make a bet and not know what they might receive if the outcome goes their way.'

'Either way, it sounds like they'll lose,' Theo chuckled.

'Are we playin' or what?' shouted Frankie, gripping a broomstick.

In reply, Minerva stood up and bound her hair in a scarf to keep it out of her eyes. She mounted her broomstick and kicked off, soaring to one end of the field. 'We're playin'!' she replied. She clenched her fists one last time to settle the gloves on her fingers and sat back on her broom, hands resting lightly on her thighs, balanced just so.

Theo opened the crate in the middle of the field, and tossed the Quaffle to Tony, unleashed the Bludger, then released the Snitch. Theo kicked off after the Snitch, while Tony sped toward Minerva, the Quaffle clutched under his arm. He neatly dodged the Bludger Augusta hit at him, narrowly missing careening into Neville. He tried to throw the Quaffle so it dropped at the last moment, but Minerva kicked it away. She smirked at him when Neville caught the Quaffle and looped over Augusta to the other end of their ersatz pitch, where Jack guarded the oak tree that made their goal. Augusta took aim with the Bludger and hit it directly in Reggie's path. Reggie had to swerve to avoid being hit in the face, and Neville continued to the oak tree unimpeded. Neville threw the Quaffle hard enough to elicit a grunt, and it sailed just over Jack's fingertips. 'Hah!' Neville shouted.

With a muffled curse, Jack tossed the Quaffle to Tony. 'Come on!' he yelled. 'Forget they've got girls on their team!'

Tony swooped around Jack. 'Believe me, I'm trying!' Tony tucked the back closely against his ribs, just like his father had taught him to carry a football. He wasn't expecting the two-pronged attack of both Neville and Augusta. Augusta slammed the Bludger toward the back of Tony's broom. It didn't hit the broomstick, but it made it wobble and buck in its wake. Neville dove from above, flying so close to Tony, he thought they were going to collide. Tony rolled to one side to avoid the crash, and lost his grip on the Quaffle. Neville caught it and banked in a turn back to the other side of the field. As he threw it past Jack, Minerva cheered loudly. She couldn't help but feel an unseemly sense of triumph at being able to do something well that they could not. It wasn't that they were terribly bad at Quidditch, but she, Neville, Augusta, and Theo were better, having honed their skills on their House teams at school.

When Theo finally caught the Snitch, Minerva couldn't help but shoot around the field in a victory lap. They hadn't officially kept score, but she had in her head. It was two hundred and fifty to thirty. She landed on the ground, dismounting with a jig. Jack directed his broom to the turf and trudged to Minerva. 'Good game,' he said grudgingly.

'Ye didna play badly,' she offered, unable to keep the smug grin off her face.

'Please. You flew circles around us,' Jack admitted. 'Where did you learn to play like that?'

'School,' she said, preening slightly. 'The competition can become somewhat cutthroat.'

Jack studied her, and the rest of the British team. 'You were holding back on us,' he blurted accusingly.

Theo looked abashed. 'Perhaps a little.' He shrugged with one shoulder. 'We didn't want to embarrass you.'

'Yeah, 'cause gettin' creamed by over two hundred points ain't embarrassin',' Reggie huffed, wiping sweat from his face with his sleeve. He eyed Minerva speculatively. 'I ain't bringin' you no breakfast in bed, girl.'

'Just as well for you, I'm going back to Windsor first thing tomorrow. Must be there early, so I'll hae to see to my own breakfast.'

'Bet's a bet,' Jack interjected. 'What time do you need to be at Windsor?'

'Six.'

'That's early,' Jack murmured.

Minerva grinned. 'I hae a proposition for ye,' she began. 'Ye let me hae an uninterrupted bath tonight in exchange for breakfast tomorrow.'

Jack flushed. He did have a habit of thinking of "urgent" things to discuss with her, just as she got into the bath. Often, it was the only time he could talk to her without arousing suspicions from Reggie. 'Deal,' he sighed.