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I am glad you enjoyed Minerva getting caught in the rain with Albus, Hogwarts Duo! I'm sure you enjoyed it more than she did, although she did enjoy the end result!
Here's Chapter Three. I hope that it entertains!
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Albus led Minerva through the castle, taking dark, obscure stairways up until they finally reached the fourth floor, where the gargoyle and the entrance to the Headmaster’s Tower were that year.
“Candy floss,” Albus said, and the gargoyle sprang aside. Albus made a slight bow. “After you, my dear!”
Minerva stepped onto the bottom step, and the stairs began to corkscrew upward.
“When did you charm the stairs to move, Albus?” They hadn’t been that way when she’d been a student, and she’d often wondered, though never asked, when and why they had been charmed.
“Around . . . nineteen forty-eight. Yes, in the summer of forty-eight. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Headmaster Dippet to climb all the way from the Headmaster’s lofty office down to the ground floor. There were days when he simply didn’t descend. We moved the entrance to the Tower down to the first floor, I charmed the stairs as they are now, and then he only had to walk the one flight from the first floor down to the ground floor. When that became difficult during the final two years, we set a Charmed sedan chair at the base of the stairway, just beside the gargoyle, and he would ride down to the Great Hall in that.”
“I don’t know why he didn’t simply retire, enjoy his few remaining years in a peaceful cottage somewhere, waited upon by a few devoted Hogwarts house-elves,” Minerva said.
“Ah, well, I believe that was his plan until Clarissa died so suddenly back in forty-eight. They were both going to retire to the Isle of Man, I believe, where Clarissa grew up. Once she was gone, that idea no longer appealed to Armando.”
“But they had grandchildren, great-grandchildren. He could have lived near them. He wouldn’t have been alone, I’m sure.”
“Probably not, but as long as we could make accommodation for him here, there seemed no point in having him leave all that he had loved, and the vitality of the school kept him going, he said.”
“I suppose you’re right. But it must have been a burden for you,” Minerva said. “You essentially had to do both his job and yours for those last few years, from what I’ve heard.”
“I didn’t think of it as a burden,” Albus replied. “I considered it both a privilege and a responsibility.”
“I never believed that you and Headmaster Dippet were very close, though.”
“Not as friends, no, not precisely. But we had gone through a lot together over the years. That creates a bond between people—even between people who don’t particularly like each other and who, if it weren’t for the circumstances of their work, would never spend any time together. But Armando and I did like each other. We simply hadn’t much in common, other than Hogwarts. And in our case, that was more important than any differences we might have had. He had devoted many decades of his life to the school. It was the least I could do to see that he was happy here during his final days.”
They reached the top of the stairs and Albus opened the door to his office, which was gradually becoming filled with various peculiar whirring and spinning magical devices. Minerva had found them distracting, and even unnerving, at first, but she was becoming used to them. She still preferred meeting with him in the quiet of his sitting room, where he only had a foe glass sitting on his sideboard. Albus admitted that many of the devices were quite imperfect in design and function, although the foe glass was fairly reliable, but he merely chuckled when Minerva suggested he was beginning to appear paranoid, or at least as though he was developing a peculiar fetish. She did hope that he stopped collecting them before he ran out of room for guests to sit down.
“Let me just check my Owl Post,” Albus said, “then we can go up to the suite and call for some supper.”
Minerva nodded as Albus went to the window and opened the Charmed Owl Post box, which conveniently collected his letters when he wasn’t in the castle, keeping him from being constantly hectored by birds as he went through his day. Minerva did hope, though, that there was nothing urgent that would require his immediate attention.
Albus quickly flipped through the envelopes and parchment scrolls, whistling softly to himself as he crossed the room. He deposited the collection on his desk and turned and smiled at her. “Ready, my dear?”
Minerva returned his smile, glad that all of the post was going to be left in the office. “I’m famished.”
“I admit to having a healthy appetite this evening, myself.”
Twenty minutes later, they were both happily eating a hearty cassoulet and partaking of crusty bread and cheese.
“More wine, Minerva?” Albus asked, raising the bottle of Merlot.
Minerva shook her head, her mouth full. Albus refilled his own glass.
“I’ll have more after I’ve finished this, though,” Minerva said.
“This is a most satisfying meal,” Albus said as he sliced off a bit more of the soft and tangy white cheese.
“Mmm, and I love the cheese,” Minerva agreed, helping herself to more.
“I’ll have to tell Aberforth. It’s some of his, from his goats. It’s one of my own favourites, too.”
Minerva smiled at him as he attentively refilled her wine glass. “This was a wonderful idea, Albus. Thank you.”
“A nice, steaming bowl of cassoulet, some homely cheese and fresh bread, a glass or two of wine, and it all makes getting caught in the cold rain seem a good thing,” Albus said with a twinkle.
Minerva chuckled softly. “Getting caught in the rain certainly did whet my appetite, that’s certain, but so did our walk. I still think I could have done without getting wet.”
“You were barely damp,” Albus pointed out.
“Hmmph.”
“A pity, actually,” Albus continued.
Minerva, her mouth full, raised an eyebrow.
“I could have dried your fur,” Albus said, suppressing a grin. “Conjured a nice, warm, fluffy towel for you.”
“I particularly dislike getting wet in my Animagus form, and you know that, Albus,” Minerva said, although she thought it might have been nice if he had dried her off.
“What do you say to waiting to have any dessert?” Albus asked, putting aside his teasing for the moment.
“I’d prefer that. I always enjoy my sweet more when I’m not already full from a meal,” Minerva said.
After they had finished their cassoulet, Albus waved his hand and the dishes all disappeared, leaving only the wineglasses and the bottle of wine. A second wave of his hand, and the lamps and candles were all dimmed.
“Ah, now this is better,” he said, stretching slightly as he rose, wineglass in hand. “Come, let’s look out at the rain.” He held out his other hand to Minerva, and she took it and stood.
“I do think I’ve had my fill of the rain today, Albus,” Minerva said.
“But not from the view from my window,” Albus replied.
“I have a similar view from mine,” Minerva said, but she followed him to the window.
Albus drew back the draperies and dimmed the lamps further. “A magnificent storm,” he said softly, putting his wineglass down on the window’s broad sill.
The rain was pounding down as hard as it had when they had returned to the castle, and the winds stirred the lake. Minerva jumped slightly when a sudden flash of lightning was accompanied by an almost simultaneous roar of thunder and the lightning hit the lake. The thunder reverberated as a second bolt of lightning hit the lake with a loud crack. Minerva felt Albus standing close to her, close and warm slightly behind her, and she felt his hand settle on her waist. She began to turn her head toward him, but then she felt his breath on the back of her neck, and his lips followed, whispering kisses against her skin. Her pulse raced, but before she could respond in anyway, his lips were by her ear.
“A momentary madness, Minerva,” he murmured. “After yours, I thought perhaps . . . perhaps I might be allowed one tonight. One moment of madness.” He kissed the side of her neck, soft, delicate kisses, like the brush of a rose petal over her pulse point, and then he slipped his arms around her, embracing her from behind, and rested his head against hers. “I do wish this moment to last a bit longer, though, with your permission, Minerva, and not be so quickly past.”
Minerva had brought her arms up to hold his embrace close around her, and she leaned back, relaxing. “A moment . . . is a relative concept,” she whispered.
“You do know that I love you, don’t you?” Albus asked softly.
Minerva nodded slightly, knowing that he did, but hoping he wasn’t merely teasing her with his embrace and his gentle kisses, hoping they meant what she had intended the previous evening when she had kissed him.
“You surprised me last night,” Albus continued in a whisper. “Not your . . . affection. But its expression.”
Minerva felt him nuzzle her hair, and he took in a long, slow, deep breath.
“I was unsettled by your reaction, or your lack of reaction,” Minerva replied quietly.
Albus turned her in his arms, bringing them to stand face to face. He said nothing, merely caressing her cheek briefly, almost tentatively, but then any hesitation was gone, and his lips met hers as he pulled her closer. His kiss was sensual, seductive, and Minerva now had no doubts about his intentions or his meaning. Her own grip on him tightened as his embrace became more intimate, one hand traversing her back until it met her buttocks, squeezing and massaging. He pressed against her, stepping forward, and Minerva backed into the long drapery at the side of the window, the backs of her knees hitting the edge of the window sill.
Albus’s kiss grew more passionate, and Minerva moaned. Her fists bunched his robes where she grasped at him eagerly. He pressed hard against her, and she felt his desire and arousal before he broke their kiss, though not their embrace. His breathing was ragged, warm gasps by her ear as his lips continued to move over her hair.
“This is madness, Minerva,” he said hoarsely. “
This is madness.”
She let out a mew of appreciation and desire as his lips travelled down to her throat, gently kissing and sucking at her soft skin. Gradually, his kisses slowed as his lips returned to hers. He kissed her twice, very softly, then he drew back slightly and looked down into her face. Her eyes opened and she blinked, trying to focus.
“Albus,” she breathed.
He brought his hand up and caressed her face. “A moment, now past?” he asked in a whisper.
She shook her head. “No. No, Albus.”
“You’re sure? I could find some Hogwarts business to occupy me, as you did yesterday evening. A momentary madness, now over, you said.” But Albus made no move to let her go. His hand now cradled the back of her head and he pulled her closer, bringing her head to rest against his chest.
Minerva could hear the pounding of the rain, but the pounding of his heart was closer. She relaxed her grip on his robes and moved her arms into a comfortable embrace.
The two stood there a moment longer, the rain still lashing the window beside them, then Albus stepped back, releasing Minerva gently.
“This is madness, and it is also wrong,” Albus said.
Minerva opened her mouth to protest, but Albus took her hand and tugged her toward him, raising his other hand to her lips.
“It may be wrong for many reasons,” he continued in a low voice, “but primarily because I believe such moments of madness should take place somewhere more comfortable, such as a sofa, as yours did last night. I believe I must start over.”
Minerva had no time to say anything before his lips were on hers again and he pulled her along with him to the sofa. The weight of his body and his hand on the back of her thigh were sufficient to urge her to lie beneath him as he continued to kiss her, first her mouth, then her cheeks, then back down her throat until he returned to her lips again. One hand had found her breast, caressing and squeezing, as the other was inching her skirts higher until his fingers could touch the soft skin of her thigh. Minerva could feel his arousal and the strength of his desire.
Albus turned his head and gave a shuddering sigh. He removed his hand from her leg and gently smoothed her skirts. His other hand moved to her side and remained there. He shifted his weight and rested more of it on the couch.
Albus took in a breath. “Gods, Minerva, I didn’t mean the moment to . . . to be quite like that. If I overstepped . . .”
“No,” Minerva said softly. “It was, um, fine. Just as a momentary madness should be.”
Albus raised his head and looked down into her face. “It is up to you, Minerva, but I would not be unhappy if it weren’t a moment only.”
Minerva nodded slightly and pulled him back down to rest upon her again. “I would be very glad if it went beyond this moment.”
“Whenever we . . . whenever we can be just Albus and Minerva together?” Albus asked. “A bit of holiday madness?”
Minerva shook her head. “
Whenever we are together. I love you, Albus.”
Albus was quiet. Finally he said, “It will not be easy. And there was some truth to it when I said there were many ways in which this could be wrong.”
“We do the right thing, as far as we are able, all of the time, Albus. It sometimes seems to me that you are on call to the wizarding world every waking moment, and your sleeping ones, too, whether from Hogwarts or the Ministry or just someone who needs your help. I think that we should do what’s right for us in this.”
“And to know what that is . . . it is not a simple thing, Minerva.”
“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter,” she repeated, caressing his back. “This is good. You can feel that it’s good. We can talk about the rest . . . when it comes up. Not now.”
Albus kissed her cheek. “Then I believe that it is time for our dessert, my dear.” He pushed up on one arm and looked down at her again. “And we can continue this moment later.”
~ to be continued ~
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Author’s Note: DH disregarded. 
This chapter was
ever-so-slightly edited, almost imperceptibly!
Next: Chapter Four: “Open Cautiously” Minerva receives a package.
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