"Alright, alright," Malcolm raised his hands in surrender. "No pressure. Tell me then, what kind of relationship do you have with... what's his name?"
"There is no relationship. There can't be... it's not possible between us," Minerva sighed, unable to prevent the images of that room from assaulting her mind.
"You seem very convinced of that..." Malcolm frowned. "What's the matter? Is he married?" he tried to probe, seeking a logical reason for the denial.
"No... it's just that we are... very different." Minerva avoided going deeper, feeling that every word brought her closer to the edge of the abyss.
"Mini, I thought we were going to talk, not play guessing games," he replied, turning serious suddenly. "Is he... an ex-Death Eater?" He asked the worst thing he could imagine, the only reason that would justify such a level of moral conflict in his sister.
"No! By Merlin, no! How could you even think that?" Minerva looked at her brother with genuine indignation, but noting the gravity with which he awaited an answer, her fire died down. She lowered her voice, feeling a searing heat rise up her cheeks. "He is... he is much younger than I am."
Malcolm processed the information in silence for a second and, suddenly, let out a loud, mocking laugh that made Minerva shrink in her seat. Luckily, the upper floor was empty, as the noise would have drawn the attention of all Hogsmeade.
"Mini! Are you serious?!" Malcolm clutched his stomach, letting out a roar of laughter that echoed off the wooden floorboards. "Younger than you?! And that is why you were so ashamed?! By Merlin, I expected something much more... murky, I don't know!"
Minerva did not respond to the mockery. She simply finished her drink in a deathly silence, her lips pressed into a thin, bitter line.
"Heh... no, it must be something else. He must be quite young," he continued, wiping a tear of laughter. "I really didn't expect some young lad could steal your heart... or that you were the type to prefer 'tender grass'." He laughed again at his sister's angry face. "Relax, Mini. At our age, it's not rare to find someone younger. It will be a surprise and maybe some will gossip, but it's not like that should matter to us. On the contrary, everyone would wonder how on earth he managed to conquer someone like you. Now I really want to meet him..."
Minerva gripped her empty glass, letting her brother's chatter flow until he calmed down. Only when silence returned to the table did she dare to add a devastating sentence.
"He is... much younger than you imagine," she murmured, hanging her head so the brim of her hat would hide the fire racing across her cheeks.
Malcolm frowned, confused. He began to do the mental math and his expression changed drastically. The joviality evaporated from his face.
"Younger?" he asked, his voice becoming cautious. "How young...? Don't tell me... has he just left Hogwarts?" He inquired with disbelief, but seeing that Minerva denied nothing, his gaze filled with growing dread. "He isn't one of your students, is he?!"
Minerva froze. The silence that followed left Malcolm with his mouth open, the air escaping his lungs. Finally, she responded with a thread of a voice, almost timidly.
"He is not one of my students," she explained, making Malcolm let out a sigh of comical relief that seemed to deflate him. "But... by his age, he should be."
An overwhelming silence fell over the table.
Malcolm nearly fell backward. The impact of those words prevented him from regaining his composure; the fact that his sister looked away guiltily did not help at all.
He had already struggled to process the idea of Minerva finding a partner two or three decades younger—someone in their thirties or forties—but never, not even in his worst nightmares, would he have imagined that his sister—the most upright and stern woman in the wizarding world—was involved with a boy who had not yet reached adulthood.
He was so dismayed that the swallow in his mouth seemed to turn to lead.
*Gulp*
"Well... now we definitely have to talk. I'm not leaving here without the full story," Malcolm stated, trying to recover a hint of his playful attitude so as not to stifle his sister.
Despite the revelation, Malcolm refused to believe things were so grave. He assumed Minerva had simply developed a platonic or inappropriate affection for some boy who reminded her of Elphinstone, and that was the cause of her affliction.
"I suppose you like your meat very tender," he teased, trying to lighten the mood with a crude joke. "I hope you're in good enough shape to keep up with someone that young. They can be... quite intense, enough to leave you breathless and with your legs shaking."
Minerva couldn't help it. At the comment, she sighed and nodded unconsciously, lost in the memory of Tom's overwhelming vitality and how that night had surpassed her. Malcolm saw the reaction and his jaw nearly hit the floor again.
"You already...!" He couldn't finish the sentence. The shock was total; the woman in front of him did not fit the sister he had known his whole life.
"It's not... as you think... it's a complex story," she murmured.
At that moment, Madam Rosmerta appeared at the stairs to see if they needed anything. Malcolm signaled frantically for her to leave, but changed his mind a second later: they needed something much stronger than butterbeer. He ordered a round of Firewhisky before facing Minerva again.
"Explain yourself," he said, looking at his sister as if she were an impossible astronomical event. "I need to know what has been happening or I won't be able to sleep again. I'd better know what to say to a court if they end up reporting you... You know Isobel wouldn't allow me to shelter you at home if you were a criminal, at least not for a crime of that caliber."
Minerva flared in a violent blush. She knew she had to tell the truth to avoid misunderstandings, even if the reality wasn't much better. When the whisky arrived at the table, the words began to flow like a broken dam.
She told him everything: the accident with the student and the disturbing potion, the uncontrollable effects on her body, how Pomona gave her the winning ticket, and how she ended up in that brothel seeking inhibitors. She described the discovery of that perverse place populated by former students, how they convinced her to stay for a few hours... and how she met Tom. She confessed the seduction, the night of unrestrained passion, the subsequent regret, her desperate flight, and how, since then, her world had become unrecognizable.
Malcolm listened in deathly silence. His expression was one of absolute seriousness while his sister bared her soul. Although Minerva avoided the crudest details, she said enough for the air in the private room to grow dense. At times, she lost her thread and gave more details than necessary, but Malcolm, despite the discomfort of hearing such things from his own sister, let her continue. He knew she needed this release.
When she finished, Minerva took a long swig of her whisky. The liquid burned her parched throat, but the physical sting was preferable to the void she felt in her chest.
"Well... that is certainly a story," Malcolm managed to say, seeking a way to break the tension.
An intense silence took over the table. Minerva felt liberated, but also exposed, reliving every one of Tom's caresses with vivid clarity. Malcolm, for his part, was processing the information, trying to reconcile the image of the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts with the woman who had just described an encounter in a Hogsmeade brothel.
"You know they set a trap for you, right?" Malcolm looked at his sister gravely before taking another sip. "That bit about staying in the room for a while was just the bait. I'm sure if you try to lift a finger against them, they'll use that to blackmail you." He began drumming his fingers on the table with a nervous rhythm. "How did you fall for something so crude, Mini? It's not like you."
"I don't know either..." Minerva held her temples, closing her eyes tightly. "I wasn't at my best. I couldn't reason... that place, the atmosphere, and that woman... I felt suffocated." She shivered at the memory of Andra's presence. "I don't even understand why I ended up there. I had so many other options..."
"They likely used some confusion charm, though you wouldn't have let yourself be caught so easily. I'd bet on some potion vaporized in the air, something to numb your senses," Malcolm speculated, trying to find a logic that justified his sister's actions. "Those people must be prepared to deal with someone like you."
"It's probable. From the little I could see, they are dangerously expert. They were ready for any contingency," she nodded with a somber gaze.
"Well... anyway, if they tried to destroy you, your reputation precedes you and Albus would have your back," he tried to console her, though he then twisted his expression. "Though of course, people like Rita Skeeter would pounce on you like a phoenix on its prey."
Minerva did not deny it. Her prestige could be reduced to ashes, but in that moment, the fear of scandal was eclipsed by a different weight in her chest.
"So... Tom, eh?" Malcolm said, finally reaching the center of the labyrinth. "You've fallen for a gigolo." He said it with a mocking tone, the only way he knew how to process such absurd news. "Who would have thought, Mini... I didn't take you for one of those."
"I haven't fallen in love! I'm just... concerned about him," she defended herself instantly, with the image of the boy burned into her mind. "He is too young to be in a place like that! He should be at Hogwarts, studying with the others, not in a brothel. It's an injustice...!"
"Injustice?" he interrupted her sadly. "You know well that the world doesn't deal fair cards to everyone, Mini. I wish it were so." Malcolm went silent for a second, thinking of their deceased brother. "Who knows how many children are in the same situation as that Tom. Even if we wanted to, we couldn't save them all."
"But we can try!" she exclaimed with a determination that didn't fit her previous fatigue. "If we put in the effort, maybe..."
"Wow... you really are hooked." Malcolm watched her with almost scientific curiosity. "I wonder what kind of skill that young man has in bed to leave the Head of Gryffindor in this state..."
"It's not that!" she denied, red with fury and shame. "It's just concern... There is nothing romantic about this, it's just..."
Malcolm sighed as he saw her tripping over her own words. He set his tankard on the table and looked her straight in the eye.
"Mini, answer me truthfully. Does his situation really keep you up at night? Would you help him if you could?" (Malcolm)
"Of course I would." (Minerva)
"Is the reason you've been so distracted these days because you can't stop replaying every second of what happened with him?" (Malcolm)
"Yes..." she admitted, her voice losing strength.
"Do you feel uncomfortable, nervous, and anxious when you remember it? Does your heart race when you close your eyes and see him in front of you? Do you doubt every principle you've defended in your life?" (Malcolm)
"Yes..." her confirmation was almost a whisper.
"Do you feel that he is different from the hundreds of students you care for every day? Do you feel that, in front of him, even you are not the same?" (Malcolm)
"No... I mean... yes." (Minerva)
"Well, it's a rather mediocre test, but the result is irrefutable. Congratulations, Mini: you're in love." Malcolm gently clinked his tankard against hers with a playful but melancholy gesture.
"That's not true!" she protested, but her voice lacked conviction. "I'm just... worried..."
"But I don't see you so affected by the other former students you saw there. I know the fact that you slept with him adds weight, but Tom occupies all the space in your head, sister. I see it in your expression; it's the same one you had when you fell in love as a girl." Malcolm couldn't help a nostalgic laugh. "Really, it's like going back to the past."
"Malcolm..." she murmured, feeling small.
"You can deny it if you want, you can say you don't accept it, and I know this isn't exactly a blessing for you... But to be honest, it makes me happy to see you like this again, Mini. With your heart awake, even if it's for the least indicated person."