It takes sixty years, but Minerva finally comes to understand the truth of George Bernard Shaw's pronouncement on tragedy: "Life contains but two tragedies. One is not to get your heart's desire; the other is to get it."
This fic is one of my sentimental favorites, and I was honored to win a Quicksilver Quill Award for it from Mugglenet. A Minerva who is too concerned with public perception is one of my (many) headcanons, and I can see her denying herself happiness (to a point) for that reason.
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