Note: Because of mature content & language, this version of the chapter has been edited. The full, unexpurgated version of the chapter is available in the Lemons forum and at the usual archives.
This is the final chapter! I hope that everyone has been enjoying this story!
CLIX: SortedAlbus and Minerva took the Headmaster’s shortcut down to the dungeons then exited through the door at the base of the north tower.
They strolled toward the gardens, Minerva’s hand on his arm, and Albus asked, “Are you looking forward to the party tonight, my dear? I worry that your family loss will dampen your mood.”
“I am sorry and saddened, of course, but Herbert hadn’t seemed well for a long time. We also weren’t very close, though I liked him. It is harder for me to know that Grandmother Siofre is grieving. I am looking forward to the party, nonetheless.”
They reached the gardens near the greenhouses and Minerva smiled at the profusion of colour. As they walked, they spoke of the Welcoming Feast, the Sorting, and the upcoming school year.
“Johannes told me that he will be giving a tour of the gardens to some of the guests this afternoon,” Albus said. “In fact, I think I hear them coming. I would rather we not be seen together just at the moment. I am also enjoying our private walk.”
Minerva felt disappointed that Albus didn’t want to be seen with her. They were only taking a walk in the gardens, after all, and she had kept her hand discreetly on his elbow. It was hardly a circumstance that anyone would raise an eyebrow at, and certainly not the stuff of gossip. But Albus quickly took her hand and pulled her along, away from the approaching voices.
“I think we can avoid them if we duck in here,” Albus said in a low voice as they rounded the corner behind Greenhouse Three and its attached potting shed.
He tugged at her hand, stepped into the vine-covered nook, and vanished. Minerva could feel a slight tingle as she followed him into the small alcove, as though she had stepped through a cool veil of magic, and she smiled. Albus placed a finger to her lips.
“Shh. We don’t want them to find us,” he whispered.
Albus turned his head and looked out. There was no one visible yet, but Minerva could now hear their voices more clearly as a witch asked a question and Johannes answered her.
“When I was a student, there was a bench here,” Albus remarked, still whispering. “I am afraid, Professor McGonagall, that we will have to stand until the visitors leave.”
He bent close to her, his breath tickling her ear. “No one can see us, my dear, but there is only a very light Imperturbable, so if we speak too loudly, they will be able hear us.”
Albus glanced toward the gardens again. Johannes and his little tour group hadn’t reached that area yet. He looked down into Minerva’s eyes and held his finger to her lips again. Still gazing intently into Minerva’s eyes, his finger grazed her cheek as he removed it.
“Professor McGonagall,” he breathed. “Oh, my dear Professor.”
He raised his finger to her lips again, but this time, he traced their outline. Very tentatively, he bent his head, his lips approaching hers, then he drew back and looked into her eyes again before brushing his lips lightly against hers. His teasing touches elicited pleasurable thrills, and Minerva’s heart beat faster. It sounded as though the visitors had reached the gardens beside Greenhouse Three, but they had not yet walked around behind it. Albus was undeterred, however, and although he straightened to look into Minerva’s eyes again, he did not allow himself to become distracted by the nearby voices.
Albus caressed her cheek, then began to kiss her again, this time less tentatively, sensuously moving his lips over hers, then taking her lower lip between his and sucking it lightly. As one hand continued to touch her cheek and throat with feather-light caresses, his other hand strayed to the front of her robes, seeking and finding the laces at her bodices. He tugged, untying their neat bow, then he pulled on them again, slowly unlacing the front of her gown as he kissed her.
Minerva had placed her hands at his waist as he kissed her, but now she brought one up to rub his chest. Albus drew back and shook his head; with a slight smile, he took the wandering hand and placed it above her head, pressing it gently against the wall. Minerva felt a tingle of magic, and her wrist was held lightly in place. She could tell that if she wished, she could simply pull it away with only a small effort, but she didn’t wish to. In fact, as Albus resumed his kisses and began to finish unlacing her bodice, she brought her other hand around to touch him through his robes. She couldn’t restrain her smile as he took that hand, kissed it, then brought it up to join the other, leaving her feeling fully open to him and his caresses.
Albus bent and kissed her lips again, his fingers parting her bodice then finding her chemise. Lacking patience to undo each of the tiny mother-of-pearl buttons on the lacy undergarment with its Self-Adjusting, Automagical Support Charm, he simply ran his finger down them, and they all released at his touch. He brought both his hands to caress Minerva, then breaking his kisses to look down at her with appreciation. Leaning forward, Albus kissed Minerva’s throat, feathery kisses teasing her soft skin as he caressed her. He began to move lower as Minerva’s breathing quickened. His lips teased her skin, and she let out a low, soft moan. Albus straightened and placed his finger at her lips again.
“Shh, or they will hear.” He looked out into the gardens just as Johannes and his small group of guests came into view.
Albus looked down at Minerva, a naughty smile on his face, and he pressed against her. He embraced her, kissing her lips again, then moving to kiss the side of her throat and tickle her ear with his tongue.
Minerva turned her head and looked out. Johannes was now only a few yards away. Whatever charm or ward Albus had cast, though, was quite effective, since the Herbologist and his group of a half dozen guests and a few Hogwarts staff members were all completely oblivious to the fact that she and Albus were just feet from them.
Albus kissed her ear, and then whispered, “They cannot see us, my dear. Do not worry!”
“I was not in the least worried,” she whispered in reply. “I admit that I am somewhat . . . torn between being uncomfortable and being titillated by their presence.”
“Would you like to stop? Is this better remaining a fantasy?”
“No, don’t stop, please,” Minerva whispered, wiggling against him. “I need you, Dumbledore. I want you.”
Albus almost couldn’t restrain his own moan, and he kissed her, pulling her tongue into his mouth. Minerva couldn’t keep herself from giving a slight moan; Albus paused, groping in his pocket for his wand. Blinking and trying to concentrate, he raised his wand and cast a strong Imperturbable around them.
He put the wand back in his pocket, then he said, still softly, “I don’t know whether I can be completely quiet, myself, Professor McGonagall, now that I know what you want, and I want it too.” He kissed her lips sensuously. “And I do so want to make love to the respectable Head of Gryffindor behind the Greenhouses, take you here, and bring you to the heights of pleasure. I want you. I want you, Professor.”
Minerva finally pulled her wrists from their light Sticking Charm and put them around his neck. She pulled him to her and kissed him, moaning softly into his mouth. She was barely aware that the small group standing outside their little hiding place began to move off, away from them. Albus made love to her just as he said he would, bringing her to the heights of pleasure and following on himself.
“Oh, gods, Minerva! Minerva, my love, Minerva, yes, yes, my love!”
Albus wrapped his arms around her and leaned his forehead against the wall behind her. Minerva lay her head on his shoulder.
“I love you, Albus,” Minerva said softly.
“I love you, my dearest Minerva.” He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then raised his head and looked at her, a slight smile on his face. “Was that satisfactory?”
“Quite,” Minerva said with a grin. “Completely unexpected, and very naughty of you, but more than satisfactory.”
Albus kissed her hair. “I had been thinking about your fantasy, and whereas my fantasy yesterday would be impossible to indulge in – and I wouldn’t really want to try it, anyway – I thought that with a few precautions and modifications, I could indulge you in yours quite safely. I wanted to do it before the students returned, since I don’t think either of us would be comfortable having any wander past even if they couldn’t see us. I put the wards on this morning while you were gone, hoping you would have some time to come out with me today.”
“Mm, I liked your precautions, but I must say that having only the light Imperturbable added a bit of real danger to the situation – in a good sense,” Minerva said. “But now, we have to get out of here somehow.”
“I can fix up your robes for you, my dear. Don’t let me forget to remove the wards, or some students may find a perfect trysting spot.”
Minerva laughed. “Your wards would make the prefects’ jobs much more difficult, that’s certain!”
After he had helped Minerva button her chemise and lace her bodice, then repaired the neat slits he had made in the skirts of their robes, Albus conjured a small bench.
“Let’s just sit here for a while. I feel the need to recover a little longer,” he said.
“It’s not a very big bench,” Minerva observed.
“It’s not supposed to be a very big bench,” Albus said with a wink, sitting down and pulling her into his lap.
Later in her rooms, Minerva thought of how very sweet and romantic Albus was. She had always thought he would be a warm and affectionate lover, and it was certainly one of the things that had continued to attract her to him over the years. But she was pleased, too, at how adventurous and playful he had become. Without a doubt, their time on the island had been very good for them, freeing up most of his final inhibitions and allowing him to express himself with her in an open, loving, and trusting way. It might have taken weeks, or even months, to have achieved that if they had stayed at Hogwarts. Having time just to be themselves had been very good for every aspect of their relationship. Now if she could only keep herself from behaving too familiarly with him in public . . . . Minerva knew quite well the little things that could give them away. Yet people were aware that the two were friends. If she maintained too much distance, that could raise curiosity, as well.
The holiday had been good in another way, as well: she had decided on an appropriate gift for Blampa. Minerva went to her vanity and found the small item that she had chosen earlier. She had already cast a few charms on it, and it was now ready to be presented to her cheerful little helper.
“Blampa!” Minerva called, returning to the sitting room.
Within seconds, Blampa was there, smiling and bobbing her head in anticipation of being of service.
“Blampa, could you prepare tea for two, please?”
Ten minutes later, Blampa had returned with the tea service and a plate with a variety of biscuits, including ginger newts.
“Where you be’s wanting your tea, Professor Minerva?”
“Here by the sofa would be most comfortable for my guest, I believe.”
Blampa set the tea out on the coffee table, then asked, “Professor Minerva, may I, Blampa, serve?”
“Yes, Blampa, you may. I would like to invite you to have tea with me this afternoon,” Minerva replied.
Blampa looked at the tea service. “But you has a guest coming, Professor Minerva.”
“I hoped that guest would be you, Blampa.”
Blampa seemed unsure of what to say, so Minerva sat on the couch, then said, “Won’t you have a seat?”
Blampa perched somewhat precariously on the edge of the couch, her short legs dangling.
“I will pour, as you are my guest,” Minerva said. “Do you take milk or sugar in your tea?”
Blampa shook her head.
“You don’t like tea, or you drink it black?”
“I, Blampa, likes tea with sugar and milk,” Blampa said softly.
Minerva fixed their tea and handed Blampa her teacup and saucer.
“I invited you to tea, Blampa, because you have been so very much help to me over the last few months, and I wanted to thank you.”
Blampa seemed to flush. “I, Blampa, is happy when my Professor Minerva is happy.”
“I know, and I appreciate that very much – won’t you drink your tea? It will get cold,” Minerva said. After Blampa had taken a sip, Minerva continued. “I would like to show you my appreciation properly and let everyone know what a very fine house-elf you are and how happy I am that you serve me and that I would never want another house-elf to take your place.”
Blampa definitely blushed at that, her cheeks a pinkish-lilac. “I, Blampa, is very, very happy, Professor Minerva.”
“That is why I have prepared a special gift for you to demonstrate your value to me,” Minerva said carefully, aware that Blampa’s sense of servitude might make it difficult for her to accept a gift if it weren’t presented in the right way.
“A . . . a gift?” Blampa squeaked, her teacup clattering in its saucer.
“Yes, just a token of my esteem for your great service and of my affection for you,” Minerva said. “Not payment in anyway, just a . . . a symbol of your service to me.”
Minerva set her teacup and saucer down on the table then reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, slightly worn, blue cardboard box. She took Blampa’s teacup from her, since the house-elf seemed frozen in place.
“This is for you, Blampa,” Minerva said, handing her the little box. “I hope you like it.”
Blampa trembled as she lifted the lid on the box. When she saw its contents, she burst into tears.
Oh, dear. Perhaps this had not been a good idea. Minerva pulled out a handkerchief and tried to hand it to the sniffling little elf.
“I’m sorry, Blampa. If you don’t like it – ”
“Oh, Professor Minerva! Blampa loves it. I, Blampa, loves it! I, Blampa, never deserving such a wonderful witch and such a wonderful present!”
“Of course you do! And I haven’t always been so wonderful. I have my moments, but I am often cross and short-tempered, but I appreciate you and how hard you have worked.”
Suddenly, Blampa threw herself at Minerva, who found herself with a lapful of house-elf, Blampa’s long, skinny arms around her neck. Minerva awkwardly patted her on the back, reminding herself that Blampa was apparently quite young, as serving house-elves went, and evidently far more emotional that she had realised.
Almost as precipitously as she had launched herself at Minerva, Blampa disengaged herself and returned to her corner of the sofa.
“Do you like it, then?” Minerva asked. “Would you like to keep it?”
Blampa, still sniffling, but smiling as well, nodded and took Minerva’s shiny Gryffindor prefect’s badge from its box. Now, instead of “Prefect” in the centre, it said, “Blampa, House-Elf,” but Minerva had left the Gryffindor emblem in place. It had been a slight wrench to part with it, but she thought that it would certainly put Scruffy, or whatever his name was, in his place. “Piddly little thing,” indeed!
“It has the Gryffindor seal on it, you see, Blampa, so I thought it would be appropriate, since I am the Gryffindor Head of House, that you have something that you can wear that shows that you serve me – you’re a kind of honorary Gryffindor. Do you like it?”
“I loves it, Professor Minerva. I loves it very, very much,” Blampa said, smiling as she looked at the badge and touched it with one long finger.
“Can I pin it on you?”
After they each had a little more tea and a few happy-tasting ginger newts, Blampa popped away, wearing her new badge on her left shoulder and promising that she would keep it polished “all sparkly.”
-/-/-/-/-
“I just came to tell you, my dear, that I will be leaving the party in ten minutes,” Albus said in a low voice.
The party wasn’t bad at all – certainly far better than the staff parties that she had felt obligated to attend when she was at the Ministry. The music was good, the food was excellent, several of the guests were quite interesting, and she had even had two dances with Albus – after he had danced with three other witches first, but she didn’t mind. Besides, she had danced twice with Quin, who had been invited by Gertrude and Malcolm, twice with Johannes, and even had one very energetic dance with Malcolm.
Yes, aside from the near-brawl between her youngest brother and Slughorn, it was quite a nice party. And if she were completely honest, Minerva had actually found the sight of Murdoch toe-to-toe with the unctuous Slytherin quite amusing, particularly when he called the older Potions Master a “blathering numpty.” Apparently Slughorn had tried to claim that Turner, Murdoch’s erstwhile apprentice, had been an outstanding Potions student, which provoked Murdoch into shouting about danger to life and limb and the cost of replacing half of his backroom, and when Slughorn began blustering about what a fine wizard Turner’s father was, that just made Murdoch more angry, saying that it hadn’t been Turner’s
father who had blown up the laboratory. Poppy tried, unsuccessfully, to separate the two. Finally Johannes came over and made some peace between them, taking Murdoch off to discuss a new hybrid that he thought had potential potions applications.
“But it’s early yet,” Minerva said, putting down her glass and looking up at Albus. “You should stay. People are enjoying themselves.”
“Nonetheless, I am leaving in ten minutes,” Albus replied softly, “and I am hoping that you will meet me outside the gates in fifteen.”
“Oh. Oh!” Minerva smiled. “My second surprise?” After they had made love, she had been puzzled because he had said he had two surprises for her, but when she has asked him about it, Albus had only kissed her and stopped her from questioning him any further.
“You shall see!” Albus said with a wink. “Just meet me!”
Sure enough, ten minutes later, Minerva looked around, and Albus was nowhere to be seen. She waited five more minutes, then she edged her way out of the party. It was still going full swing, so no one noticed her hurrying down the drive to the gates, almost running in her eagerness to meet her beloved Albus, her secret lover. They might be keeping their relationship discreet for practical reasons, but at the moment, Minerva found the thought of having a clandestine relationship with Albus rather exciting.
Minerva pulled open one of the gates and stepped through, closing it behind her, then she looked around for Albus. She didn’t see him, but she heard him whisper from the shadows beneath the trees to the side of the road.
“Over here, Minerva!”
She walked toward his voice, then she caught a whiff of sandalwood and lemon as she felt his arms pulling her to him and invisible lips kissing hers. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations of his warm, solid body and the pulsing of his magic around her.
When he broke the kiss, Minerva laughed lightly. “That is always a remarkable experience, to be kissed by you when you are invisible to me, but I could never mistake you for anyone else.”
Albus chuckled. “And you were right, I do have a surprise for you, but this is not it. Hold on tightly!”
Minerva felt the familiar sensation of Disapparition and a moment later, they were in a narrow alley off of Diagon Alley. Albus shimmered and reappeared.
“We have late reservations, my dear! Come along,” he said with a twinkle, offering her his arm.
Minerva smiled when she saw their destination. “Fortescue’s?”
“Yes, I thought one more outing before school begins,” Albus explained as he opened the door for her. “This is the first half of your surprise.”
Albus led Minerva to a table in the back, held her chair for her, then took the seat beside her as Florean Fortescue came over to greet them.
“Good evening, Professor Dumbledore! Professor McGonagall!” the cheerful proprietor said, smiling broadly. “You have something special in mind this evening, Professor?”
“Yes, please. Two Knickerbocker Glories, extra whipped cream on both,” Albus said. “If that is alright with you, my dear?”
“That would be fine, thank you! I can’t say that I will be able to finish it, but it sounds very good,” Minerva replied.
Fortescue brought them their sundaes, then locked up, charming his sign to say, “closed.”
When Minerva seemed surprised, Albus said, “I told you we had late reservations! He’ll just be cleaning up now, but otherwise, we have our own little private ice cream shop tonight.”
“Does this mean we can hold hands under the table?” Minerva asked with a teasing grin.
“We might even,” he said, leaning toward her and whispering, “be able to hold hands above the table.” He winked at her then scooped up one of her cherries and popped it into his mouth.
“You are naughty, Albus!”
“Mmm, very,” he replied, his voice low and his gaze intense, giving her goose bumps.
“If you are so very naughty and you like my cherry so much, I may have to devise a fit punishment for you,” Minerva said, a rather naughty smirk on her own face.
Albus grinned and helped himself to some jelly from Minerva’s glass. “You do that, Professor! I will try to be a good boy and take it!”
“You are eating all my jelly!”
“You never eat the jelly in your Knickerbocker Glories,” Albus said. “There’s always a puddle of it at the bottom of your glass when you’re finished. I am simply saving you the effort of trying to avoid the jelly layers!”
“I don’t suppose you would mind if I took some of your whipped cream, then?” Minerva asked rhetorically as she dipped her spoon into his glass, wondering when he had noticed that she never ate the jelly layers.
Albus chuckled. “You can help yourself to as much of my whipped cream as you can find.”
Minerva frowned. He had already eaten most of the whipped cream. “You will have to make that up to me, Dumbledore. I expect it!”
He leaned over, gave her a slightly sticky kiss on the cheek, then he whispered in her ear, “I am sure you can find some other . . . cream that might suit you, Professor. Perhaps when you punish me for being so naughty.” His tongue flicked out and tickled her ear briefly before he pulled back and began to eat his sundae again, the perfect picture of innocence.
Minerva could feel a flush rising and entering her cheeks, but she tried to focus on her ice cream and not on the growing warmth and throbbing in her crux.
“And when will I have that opportunity?” she asked.
“I am sure you will find one, my dear!” he replied, a cheeky grin on his face.
“Hmmph. You do not play fair, either, Dumbledore,” Minerva said, pretending to be displeased with him. “But I will forget that for the moment. The ice cream is very good, after all.”
“Only the ice cream? Not the company?”
Minerva couldn’t help but give him a warm, affectionate smile. “The company is excellent. As is the surprise. Thank you, Albus.” She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it. “It’s a lovely date.”
“I am glad you are enjoying it. I am very lucky to be sharing ice cream with the most beautiful witch in the world,” he answered. “I had my eye set on her, you see, and my heart, so I thought a date in an ice cream parlour might be one way of winning her affections. Am I succeeding?”
Minerva laughed, and Albus smiled to hear her.
Fifteen minutes later, Fortescue had let them out of the shop, giving Albus a friendly wink, and the two walked arm in arm down Diagon Alley. Almost all of the shops were closed, but there were still a few pubs and small restaurants open, and there were still a number of people in the street.
“Time for the second half of your surprise,” Albus said.
He drew her into the shadows of a shop doorway and put an arm around her as she leaned against him, ready to Disapparate. Minerva closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she immediately laughed in delight. He had Apparated them to the front of the cottage, and Minerva could hear the slap of the waves and smell the nearby sea.
“I didn’t see why we couldn’t spend another night here. Gertrude and Johannes are watching the castle,” Albus began to explain, but the rest of his words were muffled by Minerva’s kisses.
“Mmm, I am glad I could please you, my dear!” Albus finally said when Minerva rested her head against his shoulder.
“This is a wonderful surprise.”
“I didn’t have time to pop over and get anything ready for us, but Wilspy was here earlier in the week. I hope that you like the results of her visits.”
Before they entered the small stone cottage, Albus waved his wand to open all the shutters. As soon as he did that, Minerva noticed the first change. There were curtains in all the windows.
“Curtains!” Minerva exclaimed.
“Yes, and if you don’t like them, we can change them. Anything that you don’t like, we can change!”
When they stepped into the main room, Minerva only noticed the addition of two matching armchairs with a tall wrought-iron floor lamp beside each, whereas before, other than the table and its wooden ladder-back chairs next to the window in the back of the room, there had been only the sofa and a rocking chair.
“I like the chairs,” she said.
“They’re from the other cottage. If you don’t like the fabric, that’s easily changed. They were in my parlour in the old place, so they don’t match the sofa. I thought of bringing them here before, but never had a good enough reason to. Now, I do!” He turned to her and kissed her cheek. “I want you to be comfortable, my dear.”
“That’s very good of you. I really do appreciate that very much.”
“As I said, it is your island as much as it is mine now. Don’t forget that!” He took her hand. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you the other additions.”
Minerva immediately noticed that there was a vanity set between the two windows at the front of the room, the one which had been his mother’s and which Albus had said matched the rest of the bedroom furniture. There were now two identical bedside stands, and the bench that Albus had been using on his side was now sitting next to the large wardrobe.
“It’s a lovely vanity and mirror, Albus. Thank you.”
“I’m afraid that in order for it all to be a surprise, it wasn’t possible to have you pack – although I suppose we could have enlisted Blampa’s help there – but we have to leave in the morning anyway. Still, I added a few things to the vanity – which you needn’t use if you don’t like them, of course!”
Minerva walked over to admire the vanity more closely, and she immediately saw a little silver dish filled with hairpins, much like the porcelain one she had for that purpose in her rooms, and a silver-backed brush, an ornate comb, and a hand mirror that matched the brush.
“I didn’t have very much time to select things for you; I hope those are suitable,” Albus said nervously, coming up behind her. “And I’m sure there are other things I should have bought that I didn’t think of – ”
“I like them very much indeed, Albus. When I travel, I have a small brush I bring with me in case I forget it somewhere, but the brush I prefer is very similar to this one. Now I have one for each place.” She turned, put her arms around him, and looked up into his face. “You are too wonderful to me. You spoil me utterly.”
“We won’t always have the time for me to spoil you, my love – as much as I would like to do so daily and hourly – but I thought that while I am able, I would spoil you as much as possible! I do love to spoil you!”
“It makes it difficult for me to spoil you, though, Albus, if you are always spoiling me!” she protested mildly.
“Just being with you spoils me completely, Minerva.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “I am happier than I ever dreamed possible.”
Minerva returned his kiss, then she sighed and relaxed into his embrace.
“There is one other thing that I had Wilspy bring from storage, but . . . I wanted your opinion of it, and I was unsure myself about it.”
“What’s that?” Minerva asked.
“I had her bring the head- and footboard for the bed. It matches the rest of the furniture, but when I got the new mattress . . . I just didn’t want to use it any longer. But I thought . . . I thought that I had used it for years before that, and it is part of my parents’ bedroom furniture, and I thought you might like it. And that using it was better than not using it.”
“Ah.” Minerva was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I do think that we should use it, Albus, but not tonight. We should get it out and set it up when we know we will be here for several days. We can get used to it together, create new associations for it.” She looked up at him and grinned. “I can think of certain new associations that I will be very pleased to create for you!”
“I love you, Minerva. I love you so very much.” Albus closed his eyes and kissed her, savouring her soft warmth in his arms and her sweet lips on his.
The next morning, Minerva woke first, as usual, and much as she loved lying there beside Albus’s warmth, she remembered what he had said once about it being nice to have a cup of tea before one’s feet hit the floor in the morning. Moving very carefully so as not to disturb him, Minerva eased out of bed and shivered slightly. She went over to the wardrobe and found an old dressing gown of Albus’s and wrapped that around her. Rather than risk waking him by rummaging around looking for socks or slippers she could Transfigure, Minerva conjured a pair and slipped her feet into them. She thought could Transfigure some tea towels when she got down to the kitchen for something with a bit more “feel” to them.
Less than ten minutes later, a tea tray following her, Minerva went back upstairs to find Albus still asleep, though he was now hugging her pillow, which made her smile. Minerva Summoned the bench and set the tea service down on it, then she went around to the other side of the bed, leaned over, and kissed his cheek.
She kissed him again, then she whispered his name in his ear. Albus took a deep breath and let it out. Minerva kissed his cheek once more, and finally, his eye blinked open.
“Good morning, Albus!”
“Mmm, Minerva.” He rolled toward her. “You aren’t in bed.” He reached up and caressed her arm. “And you are no longer in that beautiful state of nudity you were in when we fell asleep.”
“It’s a bit chilly this morning, so I borrowed a dressing gown. I remembered what you said about liking tea before even getting up, so,” she said, gesturing toward the tea service by the other side of the bed, “I brought us tea!”
He smiled up at her. “You didn’t have to. I thought I would make us breakfast before we returned.”
“I
know I didn’t have to, Albus! That is the point. I wanted to. Now,” she said briskly, “I’ll fix us each a cup, then I’ll climb into bed with you to drink it.” She paused as she walked back around the bed. “Would you like me to get you a dressing gown?”
He grinned. “Only if you’re giving me that one, my dear!”
“I thought I taught you the consequences of being naughty last night!” Minerva replied with a smirk.
“I suppose you will need to continue to teach me my lesson until I learn it,” Albus said, still grinning. He sat up, took his wand from the bedside stand, and removed the light filters from the windows – which he had still placed the night before despite the curtains, since they were sheer and lacy – then he cast a light warming charm on the room as Minerva prepared their cups.
Albus sipped his tea appreciatively, then he said, “We haven’t spoken about Herbert’s funeral on Sunday morning, but I thought that I should go with you. I have known Siofre since school, after all, and I would like to be there for Merwyn, as well, and for you and Malcolm.”
“Thank you, Albus. I am sure that Siofre and the rest of the family will appreciate it.” Minerva hesitated. “It’s, um, I don’t know if you know this, but it’s a church funeral service at eleven, and then a burial in the churchyard. He was a church-goer his entire life. Siofre found it one of his few eccentricities, and she even went with him occasionally. But that means Muggle attire.”
“Was he Muggle-born?” Albus asked curiously.
“No, although it’s possible that one of his parents was either Muggle-born or half and half.”
“I know very few purebloods who go to church with any regularity at all,” Albus remarked. “Even most Muggle-borns find it too much of an inconvenience even if they do not share the . . . the distrust of the established church that many pureblood families have passed down through the generations.”
“I don’t know why, but it was important to Herbert, and I don’t believe that Siofre even considered any other kind of funeral service. I assume that they had spoken of it, too.”
“I will wear my black suit, then,” Albus said.
“There’s a reception of sorts at the house afterward,” Minerva said, “after the one in the church hall for the Muggles, so it is likely to go a bit longer than normal.”
“I will stay as long as you wish me to, my dear,” Albus replied. “Everything is in fine shape at the school, and I still have today to do those last minute tasks and to meet with staff.”
“We will certainly be back in the early afternoon, well before the Express arrives with the students.”
After he finished his tea, Albus dressed and went down to make them breakfast while Minerva bathed and changed. When Minerva joined him, she took a deep whiff.
“Something smells utterly luscious!”
“A luscious breakfast for a luscious witch!” Albus quipped. “I hope you enjoy it. I nipped out and got a few apples. I made us baked apples with raisins, cinnamon, and honey, and I toasted what remained of the brown bread. It was in the fresh cupboard, so it seemed fine once I toasted it, and I was happy to see that there was still some butter left. Next time we come, even just for a quick trip, I will have to ask Wilspy to see to our larder. If we hadn’t been here recently, it would have been just baked apples and plain porridge.”
“That would have been fine. The apples smell wonderful. Very clever of you, too!”
Albus smiled and blushed with pleasure.
Over breakfast, which was even better than it smelled, Minerva remarked that it was good of Gertrude and Johannes to look after the school for them.
“It is, although they would be there, in any case,” Albus said.
“I am happy that Johannes and Malcolm are getting along so well,” Minerva remarked.
“You were aware, then, that Johannes was fond of Gertrude?”
“That much is obvious to anyone. He was more than fond of her, is what you really mean,” Minerva said as she scooped out some soft apple and raisin.
“I think he had already come to terms with the fact that he and Gertrude were destined to be friends but no more,” Albus replied, refilling his teacup.
“Yes, well, that may be, but it’s one thing to accept that the woman you care for is only interested in friendship and quite another to see another man come in and in the space of a few days sweep her off her feet after you had spent years as her friend and wishing for more,” Minerva pointed out.
“Yes, you are right, of course. It certainly surprised me to see how quickly Malcolm swept her off her feet, as you put it.”
Minerva looked at him over her teacup. It seemed as good a time as any to ask the question that was on her mind. “Were you and Gertrude ever more than just friends?”
Albus choked on his tea. “Pardon?”
“It always seemed that you two were very close, and I often had the impression that she cared for you a great deal. I thought . . . I thought she might be in love with you.”
Albus blinked, trying to think of how to respond to that.
“You have known her many, many years,” Minerva said.
“Yes.” Albus cleared his throat. “We have been friends for a very long time. She . . . she loves me, certainly, but she was never in love with me. There was a time when we were more than just friends, though, yes.”
“Before Valerianna, I presume.”
“Yes, long before Valerianna. We had . . . I don’t want to call it an affair, precisely, but we were lovers for a short time during the war. We . . . she broke it off because we were still really just friends and she didn’t want it to become more. She still wasn’t ready and she knew that I didn’t want more at the time, either.”
“
She broke it off?” Minerva asked, surprised.
“Yes. We were still close, though, and we did have one more . . . afternoon of intimacy before the end of the war. And then later . . .” Albus shrugged. “I did wish to court her after the war. I had the time and emotional energy to develop a relationship with her, I thought, and so I made overtures, but she declined.”
Minerva furrowed her brow. “That surprises me – not that you had an intimate relationship with her, but that she turned you down. I actually had believed the opposite was likely.”
Albus chuckled. “It is nonetheless the case. Simply because you cannot imagine not being in love with me doesn’t mean that another witch might find it less than appealing.”
“But Gertrude . . .” Minerva said thoughtfully. “If
she rejected
you – when was that? You once told me that after you realised that your feelings for me were changing, that you were developing romantic feelings toward me, you thought you might court a witch. Was she that witch, Albus?”
Albus blushed and nodded. “I do love her, you know, Minerva,” he said softly. “It may not have been completely fair of me, but it wasn’t a lie when I told her I wished to court her. Oh, dear, that didn’t come out right, either. I simply meant – ”
“I know what you meant, and it’s all right, I understand. But you know, I think that you underestimated Gertrude’s feelings for you. I think she already knew you were falling in love with me. She knew you better than almost anyone – perhaps better than anyone at that time. I think that she didn’t reject you because she didn’t love you enough, but because she
did love you and she wanted only what was best for you.”
Albus was quiet for a moment. “Perhaps . . . she said at the time that she wasn’t really what I wanted. She said that she didn’t want to keep me from happiness. At the time, I thought she was trying to let me down gently, as they say. But now . . . Oh, Minerva, that makes it all so much worse, the way that I treated her!”
“I am sure she knows that you were sincere in your desire to court her, Albus. I doubt that she felt used. I’m also certain that, knowing you as well as she did, she knew you were unaware of your feelings for me, or that you were denying them.”
“No, I don’t mean then. But when she tried to warn me away from Valerianna.” Albus shook his head. “I said some very unpleasant things to her, Minerva.”
“You mentioned something about that before.”
“I didn’t admit to what I said to her, though. It wasn’t merely that I disbelieved her or that I wanted to give Valerianna a chance, but I accused Gertrude of not wanting me yet not wanting me to be with anyone else, either. I said that she was selfish, and I told her that she had no claim on me and no business saying anything about whom I chose to court.” Albus’s voice was soft. “I was so unfair to her. It must have hurt her dreadfully.”
“It probably did at the time, but she is well over it, no doubt,” Minerva said. “She is, as you have repeatedly told me, a generous witch. She loves you and I am certain that she forgave you long ago.”
Albus nodded.
“It is just fresh for you now, Albus, because you only realised how hard it was for her,” Minerva said practically. “I don’t think there’s any need for you to worry about it now. And don’t forget, Gertrude seems quite happy with Malcolm. He is certainly very happy with her. Despite all the forces working against it, I think that things have turned out as they should.”
Albus smiled. “Of course. You are right, my dear.” He reached across the table and took her hand.
Minerva returned his smile. She was curious about their relationship and how they had moved from being friends to becoming lovers, but she thought that would be a conversation for another day. Now, though, she was certain that Gertrude had been in love with Albus and that it had not been an easy thing for her to decline his courtship. She had yet one more reason to be grateful to the older witch – and to be glad that she and Malcolm had found each other. Gertrude more than deserved her chance at happiness.
-/-/-/-/-
Minerva collapsed on her sofa and kicked off her Muggle shoes. She had charmed her blue suit black, but she hadn’t put any comfort charms on her shoes, and her feet ached. She would really have to remember those in the future. She didn’t know how Muggle women could bear the tight narrow toes and the lack of any arch support. The silly things must all have deformed feet, she thought crossly.
Fidelio came into the landscape above the fireplace and barked. Minerva groaned, but she waved her wand and opened the door. With only staff in the castle, she didn’t even bother looking up to see who it was.
“Minerva?” Johannes’s tentative voice called.
“Oh, Johannes, please, come in.”
“You seem tired,” he said, coming around and taking the armchair across from her, trying to avoid looking at her legs, which were stretched out in front of her, her sore feet up on the coffee table.
“I am. I think I will take a nap before the students arrive. I don’t know how I’ll make it through the Welcoming Feast, otherwise. It would hardly do for the Head of Gryffindor to fall asleep during the Sorting,” she said with a wry grin.
Johannes chuckled. “I always have a strong drink beforehand, followed by an espresso or two.”
Minerva’s eyebrows rose. “A strong drink?”
“Just a small one. But strong,” he said with a grin. “I started that tradition my first year as Head of House. I was so nervous, I thought I would vomit – pardon me, Minerva. Now, Gertrude and I always have a drink before the Feast . . . I don’t suppose we will this year though.”
“Come by here, Johannes,” Minerva said impulsively. “I’ll take up the tradition with you. It’s your last Welcoming Feast. You don’t want to miss out on it this year.”
“All right. That would be nice . . . you will not be with Albus?” Johannes asked. “Er, that is, I thought perhaps – ”
“I am sure that Dumbledore will be very busy before the Feast,” Minerva said. Changing the subject, she added, “Grandmother Siofre was very touched by your gift. She wanted me to be sure to tell you. She spent several minutes with it and said that the bright, pungent scent was so pleasant, she thought that she would keep it in her bedroom. She had never seen a Memory Plant before, and she said that it was very soothing.”
Johannes smiled. “Yes, they are quite a rare evergreen, and difficult to find because the few that there are, people cultivate for potions ingredients. I thought she might like it for its milder effects.”
“It was very thoughtful. She said to tell you that she’ll not be greetin’ long, but that the plant will help her through her dools.”
“She will what?” Johannes asked, confused.
“She doesn’t plan a long period of mourning, and she thinks that your gift will help her to focus on the good memories and ease her grief.”
“Ah, I see.” Johannes nodded. “Well, I shall leave you to your nap. I will be by at four o’clock with a bottle!”
“And I’ll have my house-elf provide the espresso,” Minerva said, standing to see her guest out.
“You mean, ‘Blampa, House-Elf’?” Johannes asked with a grin. “Your little token made quite the impression on all of the other house-elves, you know. I had to provide mine with a tea towel with the Ravenclaw sigil embroidered in the corner.”
“Oh, dear, I hadn’t meant to create any problems!” Minerva exclaimed.
“No, no problems created,” Johannes said, reaching the door. “It was quite amusing. Horace complained the loudest. His house-elf wanted something fancier, but he had to make do with a decorated tea towel in Slytherin green with little silver snakes in the corners.” Johannes laughed.
After the Herbology teacher left, Minerva undressed and lay down. She scarcely seemed to have fallen asleep when Blampa, a cup of tea floating at her elbow, was waking her up.
Minerva dressed carefully as she sipped her tea, selecting a deep green under-robe with a high collar and an emerald green teaching robe to layer over it. She supposed she should have a teaching robe with Gryffindor colours, but she didn’t think that the scarlet would suit her complexion, and that the bright colour would be distracting to the students. Somehow, Albus could get away with wearing almost any colours when he taught, although even he seemed a bit too “Father Christmas” in scarlet, which was the official Gryffindor red. Perhaps she could acquire some robes with red and gold trim, though.
At a few minutes before four, the Knight came into the landscape in her sitting room and announced that her friends had arrived. Minerva’s eyebrows rose. She had expected only Johannes. When she opened the door, it was his smiling face that she saw, and Gertrude and Malcolm were standing behind him.
“I brought along some more company,” Johannes said.
“That’s lovely,” Minerva said as the three stepped in. “My, Malcolm! You look . . . you look very nice!” His hair and beard were very neatly trimmed, the curls in his hair looking springy and soft, and he was wearing a long, dark teaching robe that fastened all the way from the mid-chest to just above the ankle.
He grinned at her. “Thank you! The teaching robe is a gift from Tru.” He leaned toward Gertrude and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “She gave me three, two for everyday, but also very nice, and this one, for good.”
The robe was a beautiful heavy silk, damasked with shimmery dark green threads woven through the black, with dark green velvet trim all the way to the ankle then around the hem. At the chest, there were two Gryffindor crests embroidered in dark gold threads on the velvet plackets.
“You look quite fine, Malcolm. You certainly outdid me!” Minerva said with a laugh.
The four each had a shot of firewhisky – which made Minerva shudder and wish for her father’s mellow, warming Scotch – then followed it up with espresso, brought by a very cheerful Blampa, who was now wearing her badge right dead centre of her chest.
Finally, Gertrude stood and said, “The students will begin to arrive soon. I have to go meet the first-years. I will see you three later at the Feast.”
Not long after, the other three walked down to the Great Hall, where most of the older students had already gathered, talking and greeting each other noisily after their summer away. Minerva smiled to see how much some of them had grown. She hoped that the Sorting didn’t take long and that Albus’s welcoming speech was short. She hadn’t eaten very much at the funeral lunch, and despite the espresso, she thought that the firewhisky had gone to her head.
Fortunately, Albus’s speech was mercifully short, though warmly welcoming, and the Sorting went quickly. Minerva paid particularly close attention when Gertrude announced, “Alroy Cormac MacAirt,” and she couldn’t help but return Alroy’s big grin with a small, pleased smile of her own when the Hat, before it even touched the boy’s head, shouted out, “Gryffindor!” and the young redhead waved at her then flew down to join his new House.
-/-/-/-/-
Minerva smirked as her brother walked into the staff room after dinner. They had made it through the first day of classes, and from the murmurs she’d heard among the students, Malcolm was considered either daft, brilliant, dishy, or the best thing since the Four Founders – and sometimes all four at once among the older Gryffindor girls.
“So, how’s ‘Professor Malcolm’?” she asked.
“Just peaches, little sister!”
“Don’t call me that here, Malcolm!” Minerva chided.
“There’s nobody here but us,” he said, taking a seat.
“Others will be arriving shortly, though,” she replied.
There was going to be a brief staff meeting to determine whether there were any problems that required attention, after which, Minerva anticipated that she would have a few homesick first-years to counsel. She thought she might offer them ginger newts; they were, after all, happy-tasting biscuits.
“So, what is this ‘Professor Malcolm’ business?” Minerva asked, sitting down across from him.
He shrugged. “It seemed less confusing than having two Professor McGonagalls, and since you are a Head of House and will be here much longer than I, I thought that you should retain the dignity of your title.” Malcolm barely suppressed a grin.
“You do know that half your students think you’re daft, don’t you?”
“Seems they don’t know anything about fresh air around here – think it’s reserved for Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology, or something. More than half of the dangers they’ll be facing won’t be indoors, and they certainly won’t be in a classroom. Since I’m also the Flying Instructor and Quidditch coach, I thought taking classes in the Quidditch stadium to be most suitable. I can set up different environments and obstacles quite easily, and Wilhelmina and I thought we might even combine a few lessons on some of the more dangerous beasts.” He poured himself and Minerva each a cup of tea from one of the teapots that had appeared on the table in anticipation of the meeting. “I’ll not always meet with them there, of course. Sometimes, we will use the classroom, and other times, with the older students, we may even take some field trips.”
Minerva took the cup that Malcolm handed her. “Thank you. Well, most of them seemed to have enjoyed it. I was positively dull in comparison,” she said with a short chuckle. At Malcolm’s expression, she said, “Oh, don’t worry, Malcolm! It was the first day, and our subjects are very different.” Minerva smirked again as Gertrude came into the staff room. “Do you also know that the consensus among the girls is that you are quite ‘dishy’?” she asked her brother.
Malcolm laughed at that, and Gertrude smiled.
“I, too, heard that there is a very dishy new teacher on staff,” Gertrude said. “I wonder who it could be?”
“Ah, Tru! You wound me!”
Gertrude chuckled then took her usual seat as other members of the staff began to trickle in.
Other than a few complaints about Peeves, and Professor James asking nervously what he was supposed to do when a student started to cry because they were homesick, no one had any problems to report, and the meeting was over quickly. Poppy cheerfully volunteered to spend the next few evenings down in Hufflepuff with James and told the new Head of House that he could call on her at any time.
After the meeting, Albus said, “Professor McGonagall, may I see you for a few minutes, please?”
“Of course.”
As soon as everyone had left, Albus stood and came around the table to her. “How was your first full day, my dear?”
“It was fine. I had fun teasing Malcolm, though. You are probably aware, though I was not, that he is teaching his classes outdoors, and the students vary between finding him daft and brilliant.”
“Ah, yes! And I believe I heard the adjectives ‘handsome,’ ‘bonny,’ and ‘dishy’ used, as well!” Albus said, his eyes twinkling.
Minerva laughed. “I never thought of my older brother as the type of wizard teenage witches would develop crushes on, I must admit.”
“You do know that some of the older boys think their Transfiguration teacher is quite a pretty witch, don’t you? I had a few seventh year students last year who grumbled quite loudly that they would prefer to be looking at you for the class hour than at me,” Albus teased. “And I must say, I agreed with them completely!”
“Oh, Albus!” Minerva blushed.
“But I did not ask to see you in order to tell you what a very pretty witch you are, although I am glad of the opportunity! I had some time this afternoon, and I paid a rather lengthy visit to your Knight. If you have time, I thought we could discuss what I learned.”
“Yes, although I think if we could go to my rooms, that might be preferable. I don’t want to be away from Gryffindor Tower too long, and I also have rounds later this evening,” Minerva said.
The two Flooed from the staff room to Minerva’s sitting room. Minerva stuck her head out her door to let the Knight know that she had returned, in case any students came around looking for her.
Minerva settled down in the armchair across from Albus. “You know, Albus, before we discuss your afternoon, I have a question for you.”
“Yes, my dear?”
“When I was a student, your rooms were in that hidden part of the Tower, and yet you always seemed to know when something was going on – or usually, anyway. I know that you sometimes set wards on the Fat Lady’s portrait, and we prefects sent you messages through the Portrait Network, but I never did know how you knew when a party was getting out of hand without us calling for you.”
“I listened. I had a charm on the common room so that I could monitor the parties. I didn’t eavesdrop, but if things got too loud, I could tell. Your rooms are actually designed so that you can’t hear very much at all outside of them, but if the ambient noise goes above a certain level in the common room, or if there’s an extremely loud noise, such as an explosion, you will be able to hear it just as if it happened in the next room to you.”
“Oh! I didn’t realise that.” Minerva frowned. “I suppose I won’t be able to sleep through them. I see now why Wilhelmina wasn’t fond of the parties in Gryffindor Tower after a Quidditch match. She’s an even earlier riser than I am, I believe. It must have quite annoyed her.”
“Yes, I think she found that difficult,” Albus said. “But she did a good job with the House, which was difficult after they had had the same Head of House for so many years and our styles were so different. I didn’t have an opportunity to ask you, but how did the House meeting go last night?”
“Well, I believe. I spoke, introduced the prefects to the new students, talked about the House, said something about Godric Gryffindor and his legacy, then I stayed for a few minutes before leaving it to the students to continue on their own. There haven’t been any tearful students at my door yet, unlike in Hufflepuff – poor Norman! – but Wilhelmina and Johannes tell me that the homesickness will be worst the first weekend and that I’ll probably start having visits from students earlier than that, either because of homesickness or because of a problem with a class or something of the sort.”
“Yes, I would say that observation is accurate,” Albus agreed. “The first couple weeks of school are the hardest, then there’s another spike partway through the fall – I think when everything has become more routine and they have more time and energy to spend on feeling homesick – and then that aspect tends to fade away for most of them and you’ll only have the more routine problems to deal with.”
Continued in the next post!
