The Morning After

[Aurinko]

I already finished this and posted it on FF.net, but I thought I'd add it to the board's collection anyways. I didn't know what category to put it under, so I just stuck it here.

Summary: The morning after Minerva McGonagall’s Graduation Ball, her friends—and the rest of Hogwarts—are demanding answers. Sequel to By the Way They Dance.

Chapter One: Professor Dippet

“Where is she? We’ve been waiting for an hour already!” Poppy watched wearily as Rolanda paced back and forth across the carpet furiously. “It’s eleven o’clock! That bloody Scottish portrait of hers said that she locked herself in at midnight last night. She can’t have slept that long!”

“How do you know she was sleeping?” Serena drawled, a wicked gleam in her dark eyes.

“Well, what else would she be—” Rolanda saw the expression on Serena’s face and choked. “Minerva?” she said incredulously, her voice no more than a whisper.

“After last night?” Serena shrugged. “I’m not underestimating Minerva again. She’s a legal adult, and she hasn’t been his student for a full twenty-four hours.”

Poppy rolled her eyes. The sight of Rolanda Hooch gaping like a fish out of water was an all-too-familiar unpleasantness. “She’s just teasing you, Ro,” Poppy informed her friend. “And you,” Poppy said sharply, turning to Serena, “Leave her alone. She’s jumpy enough as it is.”

Serena smirked. “But it’s so much fun.”

Rolanda glared at the Slytherin, yellow eyes fierce.

Shaking her head at their familiar antics, Poppy leaned back into her chair with a sigh, brushing her fingertips over the large blue stone embedded in the table before her. Already glowing with a soft light, the stone flared brightly for a moment. The red stone to her left glowed briefly in response and then went out. “You’d better hurry up and get here before they both drive me crazy, Minerva,” Poppy whispered.

“I’m afraid that Miss McGonagall won’t be able to join you three for some time,” a familiar voice interrupted.

“Professor Dumbledore!” Poppy exclaimed, smacking her knee against the table painfully as she leapt up in surprise.

Serena’s laughter cut off abruptly. “How did you find us?” she demanded in a low voice.

“I caught Minerva coming here a few months ago. Your summons were beginning to give her a headache,” the professor said, looking meaningfully at Rolanda, who flushed, “so I told her that I would come down here and inform you all that she will be joining us as soon as she can.”

“Where is she?” Rolanda asked.

“The Headmaster wished to discuss some things with her. I believe she is still in his office,” he replied.

Poppy and Serena exchanged a quick glance. “What does Professor Dippet want with Minerva?” Serena asked suspiciously.

Professor Dumbledore smiled at her. “I believe that he is looking for grounds for my dismissal, Miss Rowe,” he said evenly. Serena nodded curtly.

Poppy gaped at them. “What?” Rolanda burst out. “Why?”

That familiar, infernal twinkle was back in his blue eyes as he raised an eyebrow at Rolanda. “As Professor Dippet quoted to me this morning, ‘Hogwarts faculty members are expected to maintain professional relationships with their students at all times.’ I was given the impression that he felt I had somehow breached that section of my contract.”

“Oh.”

There was silence for a moment.

“Well, did you?” Serena asked abruptly. Poppy’s head jerked up at the question, and her eyes flew involuntarily to the professor’s face.

“No,” he said simply.

Poppy stared dumbly at him for a moment, and then began to laugh weakly. Professor Dumbledore joined her merrily, as did Rolanda, and even Serena smiled.

“I wonder what they’re talking about then,” Rolanda said aloud. Poppy just caught the little smile Professor Dumbledore was trying to hide, and then she, too, began to wonder exactly what was going on in Headmaster Dippet’s office.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sat in the most comfortable chair in Headmaster Dippet’s office; the emerald green chintz armchair that Albus had conjured for her looked decidedly out of place in this austere environment. She crossed her legs neatly at her ankles, folded her hands in her lap, and looked up at Professor Dippet with an expression of polite disinterest.

She was, after all, a lady.

“Miss McGonagall,” the Headmaster began. “I must impress upon you the grave nature of this matter, and I insist that you tell me the truth.”

She didn’t even blink. “Yes, of course, Professor.”

Professor Dippet opened his mouth, then closed it again and rearranged the papers on his desk. He met her guileless green eyes for a moment, and then looked away again, flushing slightly. “You see, Miss McGonagall,” he said slowly, “some rather disturbing rumors have arisen about a certain member of my staff as of last night. I was hoping that you could shed some light on the subject.”

“Me?” She could see how the surprise in her voice troubled him.

“Yes, you, Miss McGonagall.”

She nodded. “I see.” The relief on his face was almost comic. “Now, what rumors were you speaking of, Professor?”

Professor Dippet’s face went red, then white, and then finally settled for an odd mixture of the two. He adjusted the papers on his desk again. “Some rather disquieting speculation has arisen as to your relationship with Professor Dumbledore, Miss McGonagall,” he said tightly. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would simply tell me whether or not these are true.”

“My relationship with Professor Dumbledore?” she said in confusion. “Well, Transfiguration has always been my favorite subject, and Professor Dumbledore is a wonderful teacher—”

“Not that relationship, Miss McGonagall!” Professor Dippet nearly burst out. His face was most definitely red now, Minerva noted. And the tips of his ears, she added as an afterthought.

“Well, the professor has been a good friend of my family for many years,” she said thoughtfully. “My parents were most pleased to discover that he was coming to teach here. Professor Dumbledore and my Uncle Nicholas are great friends,” she added helpfully. “And—” She broke off to look up at Professor Dippet in concern. “Are you all right, sir?”

The headmaster had his head in his hands and was shaking it slowly. At her query, he looked up, stared at her for a moment, and then closed his eyes as if pained. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed deeply. “Yes, Miss McGonagall. Thank you, but I am fine. Now,” he said with renewed determination. “Tell me everything about your relationship with Professor Dumbledore.”

“Everything?” she asked hesitantly.

“Everything,” he replied emphatically.

She bit her lip and looked away briefly, but began to speak before he could prompt her again. “Professor Dumbledore came here in the spring of my fifth year to take over for Professor Wiltshire. I…I was not perhaps as welcoming towards him as I should have been,” she admitted. “Transfiguration was my favorite subject, and I wasn’t very happy about getting a different teacher halfway through the school year.” She paused again. “I…I…I was not as cooperative in class as he would have liked, and I did not treat him…” She looked up at Professor Dippet with a spark of her usual humor and smiled wryly. “Suffice it to say that I managed to get a total of thirty detentions from one teacher that year.”

Professor Dippet’s dark eyes widened. “But he was only here for…” He did some quick calculations in his head. “…sixty days of school!” She nodded. “How did I not hear of this?”

The girl froze. “My friends…they were certain that having so many detentions was going to ruin my chances of making Head Girl, and so they persuaded me to go and apologize to him.” She blushed, slightly. “By that time, I could admit that maybe he wasn’t as bad a teacher as I’d feared, but I thought it was too late to change things. My friends…well, they forced me to apologize to him. I didn’t think it would change anything, but I did.”

Here she paused again. “Go on,” the Headmaster prompted.

“Professor Dumbledore was very kind about it, actually,” she said. “He offered…he said…”

“Yes?”

“He said that he would strike the detentions from my permanent record if I would indulge him in one thing,” she said quietly.

The Headmaster stared at the Head Girl, aghast. “What?”

“He asked me to…he wanted…”

She bent her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of dark hair. “Yes, Miss McGonagall?” Professor Dippet prompted gently, the tone of his voice belying the intensity of his scrutiny.

“He asked me to…he wanted me to play him in a game of chess,” she said finally. Staring at her hands, she could not see the look of utter shock on his face, and thus continued. “He said that if I won, he would strike them all from the record. If I lost, he would still strike half of them.” She looked up at Professor Dippet then. “He said that his usual partner had not challenged him in some time, and he thought I could do better,” she admitted, her face scarlet. Dippet flushed as well—he had been Albus’s usual chess partner. He had often wondered why his friend had not asked him to play again after their first few matches; the answer was sitting before him.

“As I have no record of you getting any detentions that year, I take it you won the match.”

“Yes,” she admitted softly. “But he won the next three,” she added quickly, as if to defend Professor Dumbledore’s chess skill.

“The next three?” Professor Dippet asked quickly.

“Yes. I won the fourth.”

“Exactly how many games of chess have you played with Professor Dumbledore, Miss McGonagall?” he asked curiously.

“Seventy-two. I’m up by five games.” She gave him a small smile.

Professor Dippet was dumbfounded.

[Aurinko]

* * *

“Chess?” Rolanda repeated in astonishment. Serena echoed the sentiment; silently, of course.

“Yes,” Professor Dumbledore replied definitively. “Chess.” He glanced over at Serena. “Minerva is a very good player,” he told her seriously.

Serena looked back at the man skeptically. Everyone knew better than to challenge Minerva McGonagall to a chess game—unless you wanted to lose. And despite the sobriety in his voice and posture, there was a certain mischief in his eyes that screamed ‘Minerva’ more clearly than anything else could have.

“Well, you can’t get in trouble for playing chess, can you?” Rolanda said practically.

“No, I don’t suppose I can,” Professor Dumbledore agreed mildly. Serena’s dark eyes narrowed.

Rolanda returned the professor’s cheerful smile. “Well, that’s good.” The Slytherin gave an inward sigh and shook her head slightly at her friend’s happily oblivious and overly trusting nature. Hufflepuffs.

Serena blinked in alarm when she realized that Professor Dumbledore had caught her little motion. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, girls, I’ll go see what’s keeping Miss McGonagall,” he said, rising from his seat and walking towards the door without another word. The little smile on his face irritated Serena to no end. She exchanged yet another glance with Poppy, who simply shrugged as their Transfiguration professor—former Transfiguration professor, Serena amended—left as suddenly as he had arrived.

Minerva had a hell of a lot of explaining to do when she arrived, Serena thought with a growl.

* * *

“Professor Dumbledore can’t get in any trouble for playing chess with me, can he, Headmaster?” Miss McGonagall asked worriedly. “It was somewhat like a final exam, after all. He had me transfigure up a life-sized set from the candy he had in his desk.”

Professor Dippet said nothing.

“You cannot censure a professor for playing chess,” she said disbelievingly.

“No,” the Headmaster confirmed. “I would not.” Miss McGonagall breathed a small sigh of relief. “It is, however, an inordinate amount of time to spend with an individual student on a personal basis.” He deliberately ignored her frown. “I am obliged to ask you a few questions. Did Professor Dumbledore ever behave in an inappropriate manner towards you?”

She gave him an odd look. “No,” she said firmly.

“Has he ever made you feel uncomfortable in any way? Ever—”

“Exactly what are you insinuating, sir?” she asked sharply.

Professor Dippet’s face was noticeably flushed, but he met her gaze squarely. “Have you ever had sexual relations with Professor Dumbledore, Miss McGonagall?” he asked her bluntly.

Miss McGonagall’s eyes widened and she took in a sharp breath. When she finally spoke, her voice could have frozen fire. “I have never been so insulted in my life,” she exclaimed. “While I cannot speak for Professor Dumbledore, I should think that he would be equally horrified. A student…dallying with a professor?”

Though his hands trembled slightly, his voice was steady. “Please answer the question, Miss McGonagall.”

Her green eyes narrowed into angry slits, and he flinched a little in the face of her fury. “Professor Dumbledore and I have never broken any of the rules of conduct for students and professors here at Hogwarts. As for your question,” she hissed, punctuating her words with a withering glare, “I refuse to dignify that with an answer.”

Professor Dippet surreptitiously glanced at the little globe in his top desk drawer, and upon seeing it clear as glass, swallowed hard. “You have my deepest apologies, Miss McGonagall. You must understand, however, that my position as headmaster of this school requires me to make certain inquiries on behalf of my students.”

“I trust that your inquiry here is concluded, then?” she asked sarcastically.

“Yes, yes, of course,” the Headmaster stammered out hastily. “Again, you have my deepest apologies, Miss McGonagall. It is not in my habit to question my students’ personal lives,” Professor Dippet said, flushing, “but I will if I feel it necessary to ensure their welfare.”

The professor took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. After a moment, he glanced over at the young woman before him. “You have a wonderful future ahead of you, Miss McGonagall. It has been a pleasure to watch you develop over the last seven years, and I do wish you all the best.” Just as she reached the door, the Headmaster added one final thought. “Oh, and should you ever consider teaching as an occupation, do contact me first.”

“Thank you, Professor,” she said, nodding to him once before exiting his office.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Dippet let out a large sigh and slumped over his desk. Thank Merlin that the McGonagall girl had graduated. He was getting too old for this kind of thing.

A/N: Question--is there a way to get italics to transfer into the message box thing or do you just have to type the brackets & "i" every time?

[MiniPrincess]

I'm really enjoying this story! There is something about this pairing that makes them so adaptable and you're doing a wonderful job, please keep posting!

[Aurinko]

Chapter Two: Gossip and Girl Talk

He met her at the bottom of the staircase to the Headmaster’s office, and within moments their helpless laughter was echoing down the hallway. Minerva was gasping for breath, her face flushed; Albus’s blue eyes positively sparkled.

“You were brilliant, my dear,” he said warmly.

“Why, thank you, Professor.” Minerva gave him a cheeky grin, and then dipped him a slight curtsy. “I learned from the best.”

Albus laughed appreciatively, shaking his head as he raised her up, and kissed her lightly. “I’d no idea you felt that way, Miss McGonagall.”

“You know you’re my favorite professor.”

“I’m only your favorite professor because I teach Transfiguration. You’d love even Professor Grier if he taught that subject.”

“Never,” Minerva declared vehemently. “I’d love you even if you taught—even if you taught Divination.” She made a face at him, disgusted by the very thought, and he laughed again. “And Professor Grier is a dirty old man whose mind has been more than a little addled by all those potions fumes,” she said with some heat.

A quick bark of laughter was all that he would allow himself, but Minerva knew that Albus agreed with her assessment of his colleague.

“Your friends are waiting for you,” he told her after their mirth had faded into silence.

She sighed heavily. “I know.”

Albus looked at her questioningly. “Surely it cannot be that bad? You sound as if you were going to a funeral.”

“Oh, Albus, you have no idea.” When it was clear that she would say no more, he stepped forward and bowed to her, achieving the slight smile he desired. Ever the gentleman, he offered her his arm, and she slipped into it quite naturally.

Minerva found their little walk oddly comforting. There was a certain rightness to the feel of her arm in his, a certain warm familiarity in their pace, and a certain comforting regularity in the sound of their footsteps.

He stopped just outside a large crest of Hogwarts. “Ready to face them, love?”

“Not at all,” she replied sardonically, reaching out towards the lion. Before she could touch the animal, however, Albus caught her hand and drew it towards him. She glanced up at him, startled.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Minerva,” he told her seriously.

“They deserve an explanation,” she said helplessly, suddenly lost. Unable to meet his gaze, she dropped her eyes to the floor, wringing her hands together anxiously.

Again, Albus caught her hands in his. The gentle touch of his fingers raised her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

His eyes. The bright blue of the summer sky, his eyes were the first thing that she had noticed about him and the first thing that she had loved about him, and once again she found herself utterly lost in their brilliant intensity.

“There are five people in this world who know the truth of our relationship,” he began quietly. “Only three know that we defeated Grindelwald—together,” Albus insisted, forestalling her objections. “We agreed to keep this quiet, because as much as I may want to announce my love for you from the top of every hill in Scotland, I have far too many enemies and I will not place you in that kind of danger.

“The rumors about us will die down in a few weeks, and in a few years, no one will even remember that the Transfiguration professor and the Head Girl shared the last dance.

“You said that you wanted to tell your friends; that you four had shared everything since first year and that an oath from your fourth year would bind them all to secrecy. I am willing to respect your decision. Besides, I think that it will be good for you to have some female friends so you can complain about me,” he said with a small smile.

“This remains entirely up to you, Minerva. I just want you to be happy. If it would make you happier to have your friends know the truth about us, then tell them. I leave how much you disclose to your discretion. If you would be happier that they remained ignorant of our relationship, then feel free to walk into that room and tell any number of lies about me that you like.” The look in his eyes, the soft smile on his face, and the warmth of his voice were bringing tears to her eyes.

“You do whatever it is that you want to do, not what you think you must do, or what someone else would want you to do. I love you, Minerva, and nothing on this earth is going to change that.”

It was too much for her. With a slight cry, Minerva closed the distance between them, burying her face in his chest and reveling in the feel of Albus’s arms around her. Before he fully realized what had happened, she had reached up and pulled his face down to kiss him passionately. He responded instantly, unthinkingly, and by the time they were forced to part from lack of air, her lips were swollen, her face flushed, and her hair and clothes in marvelous disarray.

Minerva didn’t care. “I love you,” she whispered, before capturing his lips with hers again.

A short eternity later, Albus gently disentangled himself. “I’m afraid that if we don’t stop now, you won’t be speaking to your friends—or to anyone—for a very long time,” he said wryly.

Minerva flushed an even darker shade of crimson, but the smile on her face was anything but innocent. “And if you go in there like that, they won’t need to ask any questions.” She blushed again, and Albus chuckled. A few quick spells from him restored her hair and attire to their previous state.

“Thank you,” Minerva said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Wish me luck.” She turned to the wall, pushed in the lion quarter of the Hogwarts crest, gave the password, and moved towards the hidden staircase that had been suddenly revealed. And with one last smile for him, she was gone.

[Aurinko]

Rolanda drummed her fingers on the table mindlessly. She was bored. Dumbledore had left a good fifteen minutes ago, but Minerva still had not arrived, and Rolanda had nothing to do but wait. The inactivity was killing her, and the knowledge that it was a good day for flying was painful. In a sudden burst of inspiration, Rolanda tapped out a few different rhythms. Now mildly intrigued, she was about to lift her other hand to the table to try some more complicated patterns when Serena finally snapped.

“Will you just quit it already?” she shouted, half-rising from her chair in pure frustration.

Yellow eyes went wide. Rolanda removed her hand from the table and placed it carefully in her lap. Serena took a deep breath and sat down. Poppy’s eyes remained fixed upon the doorway.

“Poppy?”

Rolanda was greeted by the sight of her friend’s blonde hair.

“Poppy?”

The Ravenclaw continued to studiously ignore her.

“POPPY EVANGELINA CALLOWAY!” Rolanda shouted.

When Poppy finally spoke, it was in the toneless, utterly neutral voice that made Rolanda shiver involuntarily. “Minerva.”

Rolanda blinked in confusion. It was a different voice that responded, familiar and equally aloof. “Poppy.” Serena and Rolanda snapped around. There, framed by the light of the doorway, stood Minerva. “Serena. Rolanda,” she greeted them.

Minerva walked over and took her place at the table. For a full minute, the four friends simply stared at one another.

Minerva McGonagall was not a Gryffindor for nothing. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Minerva,” Serena returned evenly. “How was your night?”

Rolanda choked.

“Fine, thank you,” Minerva replied, shooting a strange look at Rolanda. “I thought the ball went rather well. I enjoyed it.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Serena muttered.

Poppy shot the Slytherin a dark look. “I thought that you and Tom did a brilliant job with the decorations.”

“Thanks, Poppy. How was your date with Peter?”

The blonde smiled softly. “It was wonderful. He took me out to dinner at the Mediterra before the ball—” Rolanda whistled, and Poppy blushed a bit. “I told you all that Peter got the job at the Ministry as a Charms Researcher. He’s promised to wait for me to graduate from Asclepius.”

“That’s great, Poppy!” Minerva exclaimed.

“Congratulations,” Serena said, smiling. “You two deserve each other.”

“Isn’t it a bit early for congratulations?” Rolanda asked.

“Knowing those two, I doubt it. If he doesn’t propose to her the day she graduates from Asclepius, I’ll come back to Hogwarts to cheer for Gryffindor next season.”

Poppy was a brilliant red now, but smiling. “And what about you two?”

Serena indicated for Rolanda to go first. She let out a groan. “Andrew Phillip Harper cannot dance to save his life. Merlin, I have never met anyone so terrible! You’d think that someone that good in the air would be at least half as good on the ground, but no! He can’t even do a proper waltz!”

Poppy alone made sympathetic noises. “Harper didn’t keep you down for long, though, did he?” Serena observed.

“Well, no.” Rolanda shrugged. “I spent the rest of the night dancing with Myles Diggory instead.”

The girls laughed.

Rolanda turned to her left. “How was your date, Serena?”

“Better than yours, apparently,” she replied dryly. “Damien was solicitous, and being a Black, a very good dancer, but a rather boring dinner partner.”

“I take it you’ve crossed him off your list,” Minerva said with a small smile.

“Undoubtedly.”

“You’ve eliminated every Slytherin male in our year, Serena!” Rolanda exclaimed.

Serena raised one elegant eyebrow. “You’ve met them all, too, Ro. Can you blame me?”

Rolanda grinned and shook her head. “Nah, just applauding your good taste.” They all laughed at that. “Besides, can you imagine? Serena Black, or Serena Malfoy?”

“Forget ‘sounding’ wrong, Ro, that’s just wrong," Minerva interjected, shuddering.

“Guess you’ll just have to marry a Ravenclaw, Serena,” Poppy joked.

“I just might, at that,” Serena said softly.

“Who?” The question was out of Rolanda’s mouth before she even realized she had opened it.

Serena blinked, turned to her friends, and then shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Unless you have any ideas?”

“Yeah, actually,” Rolanda said. Minerva laughed. “What about Charles Weasley?”

“Gryffindor.” Minerva rolled her eyes.

“Oh, right. Richard Barrister?”

“Ro!”

“Okay, okay.” She paused in thought. “Hey, what about that Ravenclaw boy, graduated a few years ago…Sym…Sin…I don’t remember!”

“Don’t remind me if you do,” Serena said dryly. She looked across the table at Minerva. “And now we come back to it again. How was your night, Minerva?” The Gryffindor froze. “The whole school’s been talking about it all morning, but we figured we’d get the real story from you. Everyone’s been asking us about you, but we told them that we wouldn’t believe anything unless we’d heard it directly from your mouth.”

Minerva said nothing.

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Poppy offered, slightly hurt.

“Of course she has to tell us! We’re her best friends,” Rolanda insisted. “At least, I think we are,” she said, her voice faltering as Minerva continued to hesitate.

Surrounded on three sides, Minerva conceded defeat. “You didn’t have to be so damned manipulative about it, you know,” she said, glaring at them.

Serena raised an eyebrow and just looked at her friend.

“All right, all right,” Minerva grumbled. “What do you want to know?”

They all smiled, and Minerva promptly buried her face in her hands with a little moan.

[Aurinko]

“Do you love him?”

Minerva’s head shot up and she stared at the Ravenclaw incredulously. Poppy’s dark blue eyes were intense as she scrutinized Minerva’s face. “Are you in love with Albus Dumbledore?”

There was a long, charged silence.

“Yes,” Minerva whispered finally, flinching as though awaiting a blow.

“Does he love you?”

The soft smile that appeared on Minerva’s face answered the question immediately. “Yes.”

Poppy smiled broadly, her tense posture relaxing. “Then I’m happy for you, Min,” she said warmly. Teary-eyed, Poppy reached over to hug the stunned dark-haired girl.

Minerva returned the embrace after a moment. “Thank you,” she whispered. Blinking furiously, the two girls returned to their seats. Minerva glanced over to her left, surprised by the silence. “Ro?”

“Oh,” Serena exclaimed quietly. “Finite Incantatum."

Rolanda glared fiercely at Serena before taking a deep breath. “BLOODY HELL!” Taking in Minerva and Poppy’s horrified faces in one quick glance, Rolanda swallowed. “Er…I mean, that’s great, Min.”

Three identically skeptical expressions met her declaration. “No, really, Min. I mean, if it doesn’t bother you that he’s like…well, old, then that’s okay with me.” Rolanda paused. “Bloody hell, Min, say something!”

“No, it doesn’t bother me that he’s ‘old,’” Minerva said frostily.

Rolanda winced. “I know you said you liked older men and all, but don’t you think that might be taking it a bit far?” She missed the pity on Serena and Poppy’s faces; the fury in Minerva’s transcended all else.

“Well, if that’s how you see it—” Minerva began heatedly, rising up from her seat.

“STOP IT!” Poppy shouted suddenly. They turned to her as one, all of them equally shocked by her uncharacteristic outburst. “Rolanda Ethel Hooch—shut up!” Rolanda grimaced, but obeyed. “Sit down, Minerva!” The brave Gryffindor sat. When Serena laughed, Poppy rounded on the brunette. “And you, Serena Rowe—either help me out here or kindly shut up!”

“You seem to be doing just fine on your own, Poppy,” Serena replied.

Even Serena flinched at the anger in Poppy’s usually-tranquil blue eyes. “That’s enough out of you!” The blonde took a deep breath. “Rolanda. I’m not sure you quite understand here. Minerva is in love with him. Minerva is in love.” Poppy nodded in satisfaction as Rolanda’s jaw dropped slowly. “Much better.” Serena bit her lip to stifle her laugher; Minerva’s face matched her House banner. “So you’re just going to tell her that you think it’s wonderful, and then you aren’t going to say another word. Understood?” Rolanda nodded. “Good.” Poppy leaned back into her chair. “Did you have something to say, Serena?”

“If I’m allowed,” Serena said sarcastically, inclining her head towards Poppy, who flushed. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of true love, but Min, you’re eighteen. He’s more than five times your age. And he was your teacher. People will talk.”

“No, they won’t. They won’t say a single bloody word, because none of you will breathe a word of this to anyone. Ever,” Minerva said fiercely.

“All right, Min,” Poppy said mildly.

“Why?” Serena asked. “If he loves you so much, then why not tell the world about it?”

“Albus—” Rolanda drew in a sharp breath. Minerva had never used the professor’s first name in front of them before. “—is probably the most powerful wizard in the world. And I refuse to be used against him.”

Serena was not convinced. “Are you sure this is what you want, Minerva? A relationship that nobody knows about and a man you can’t be seen with in public?”

“Yes, all right! Merlin help me, Serena, I love him. Don’t you get it? I love him. I don’t care what anyone else says! And if you three can’t just accept that—”

“Minerva!” Serena shouted. Then, in a quieter voice, “We never said we didn’t accept it. We just want to make sure that this is what you want and that you know what you’re doing. We’re your friends, Min. We just want the best for you.” She paused. “So he’s really The One?”

“Yes.”

Serena smiled slowly, and then laughed. “I’d better be invited to the wedding!”

Minerva returned the gesture. “Of course. Wouldn’t be much of a wedding without my bridesmaids, would it?” Suddenly Minerva was surrounded by three cheering, crying girls.

As one, they dragged her over to the couch by the hearth, sat her down, and arranged themselves around her.

“All right, Minerva-girl, details,” Serena ordered.

“Spill it,” Rolanda added, grinning.

“Everything,” Poppy affirmed.

Minerva looked down at their eager faces, and for the first time that morning, truly smiled and truly dreaded what was coming next.

[TartanPhoenix]

I read this first on ff.net, but I don't think I reviewed *smacks head against desk* well here goes. This was a great story. I loved the interactions between Minerva and her friends, and you did a great job with Professor Dippit. It left me with a warm fuzzy feeling. Good job.

[Aurinko]

Oops. Forgot to post the rest of this. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, both here and on ff.net--I really enjoy reading your comments.

Chapter Three: The Events of April

“Well, after you three forced me to apologize, we started playing chess every week or so. You know I started Animagus training with him in December. With Grindelwald on the rise and my parents over in France, it was good to have a distraction. What I didn’t tell you is that I finished training in March.”

“What?” Poppy cried out. “But that’s only four months!”

“Albus is an amazing teacher,” Minerva replied with a smile.

“So what were you doing in all those ‘lessons’ you just had to run off to?” Rolanda asked, irritated. Minerva bit her lip, knowing her friend was upset about the pick-up quidditch matches she had begged off.

“Learning something else altogether, no doubt,” Serena teased.

“No!” Minerva exclaimed, horrified. “Albus would never! We just…talked, and played chess.”

Serena looked skeptical. “Talked about what?”

“Anything. Everything. Transfiguration, quidditch, the Ministry, Grindelwald, alchemy, my homework, Ro’s latest conquest—”

“You told my Transfiguration professor about my boyfriends?”

Minerva flushed. “Well, yes, some of them.” Rolanda was staring at her in a mixture of shock and horror. “He agreed with me that you could’ve done better.” Rolanda ran a hand through her scandalously-short hair and moaned.

“So at what point in all this talk of Ro’s boys and chess matches did you fall in love with him?” Serena asked.

“I don’t know exactly.” Minerva looked genuinely confused, much to Poppy’s disappointment. “There were some…awkward moments in his office sometimes, but nothing actually happened until this April. And even then, it wasn’t so much falling in love with him as realizing that I was already in love with him.”

flashback

[/i][/b]

8 April 1945

The little gray tabby cat scampered down the corridors, sliding along the stone as she turned the corners at breakneck speed. She was late.

Quidditch practice had been held despite the pouring rain, thunder, and lightning until Professor Grier came out and flat-out ordered Alexander Wood to send the Gryffindor team inside. Personally, she thought he had only done so because he didn’t want Slytherin’s next opponent getting more practice, not because he was concerned for their welfare. Alexander certainly didn’t care that they were flying about tall metal posts in a thunderstorm.

Still shivering from the cold, the little tabby jumped through the cat-flap that Professor Dumbledore had recently installed in his office door, ran inside, and curled up by the fireplace.

“And hello to you too, Kitten,” a familiar voice chuckled. The little tabby opened its eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of violet robes before she felt herself being lifted onto someone’s lap. Then warm, gentle hands began stroking her back, and she forgot all else. Purring was one aspect of her Animagus form that had initially embarrassed her; embarrassed her until her professor—her friend—had told her that he found it endearing. It was also the only way she could express her appreciation in this form, and for him, she would endure far more than a little embarrassment.

Her ears caught the soft flurry of feathers that heralded the arrival of a winged messenger. Sure enough, Albus’s wonderful hands ceased their ministrations. Minerva waited with minimal patience as parchment crinkled loudly overhead.

Suddenly Albus’s entire body tensed beneath her and the little tabby leapt up in surprise. His hands reached out, but Minerva dodged the reassuring touch, maneuvered her way out of his lap, and transformed.

“What’s wrong, Albus?” she asked, concerned.

“An old friend of mine just contacted me,” Albus replied, waving the scrap of parchment. “There’s been a little emergency that I’m needed to deal with. I’m afraid that I’ll have to miss our weekly chess match, but I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

“What happened?”

Albus paused. “My friend has just discovered the presence of a parasite on his property and he needs me to dispose of it,” he said finally.

“Can’t someone else go? Why can’t he deal with it himself?”

He smiled widely at her words. “I’d stay with you if I could, Kitten, but I promised that I would help him with this myself. Piers is a good wizard, but he’s not very good with this kind of thing.”

“How long will you be away?”

Again, Albus paused. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “But you’ll be the first to know when I return.”

Minerva nodded, dazed. “Be careful.”

“I will. I have to go,” he said reluctantly. He stared at her for a long minute. He opened his mouth a few times as if he wished to say something to her, but never spoke. Finally, with a quick, “Be good, Kitten,” Albus Dumbledore simply walked out of his office.

The sound of that final benediction still echoing in her mind, Minerva was left staring at the door swinging slowly closed in his wake.

She was not Head Girl for nothing. The pieces had fallen into place neatly, and the tone of his final words to her, as well as his unusually abrupt departure, had set off warning bells in her head. Minerva straightened.

She was a Gryffindor, and like it or not, Albus Dumbledore was not going alone.

The little gray tabby cat leapt out of the Transfiguration professor’s office just as the door clicked shut behind her.

present time

[/i][/b]

Rolanda was frowning. “I don’t understand.”

Poppy and Serena did, however, and were staring at Minerva openmouthed.

“But there was never any mention—” Poppy began, but Serena cut her off.

“Impossible,” she said flatly. “Professor Dumbledore would never allow it.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Minerva agreed. The two girls nodded, satisfied. “So I didn’t ask for his permission.”

flashback

[/b][/i]

Minerva trailed Albus at a discreet distance, though she had to run to keep up with him.

“Ginger newts,” he said clearly.

A large portrait swung open to reveal a garish sitting room. Albus walked in and Minerva leapt in lightly after him. She hid under his desk, for although his bed would have provided more cover, the alarmingly large dust bunny she had spied scurrying out from under there had immediately dissuaded her from that notion.

Albus was tearing about the room like rogue Bludger, muttering to himself as he haphazardly tossed various items—a few matchboxes, a canteen, a dark cloak and other items Minerva did not recognize—into a large rucksack onto the bed.

“I should have told her,” he said suddenly as he picked up a large bag of lemon drops. Minerva’s ears perked up, and she watched avidly as he weighed the candy in his hand, staring at yellow sweets. To her frustration, she could see only his profile, and knew nothing of his expression.

Suddenly, he threw the little bag violently onto the bed. Minerva flinched as it ripped, shooting bits of yellow candy everywhere. “Told her what, exactly? That I’m leaving to fight the greatest Dark wizard of the century and that I probably won’t be coming back?” The tabby cat hissed. “Should I have told her that I’m going to fight for her, that she’s the reason that I want to make it home?” He added something else, but even Minerva’s cat-ears could not make his mumblings out clearly. Her green eyes were as round and shocked as a cat’s could be. Albus sighed deeply. “She’s my student. My student!” He paused. “It doesn’t matter if she’s of age—I’m more than five times her age, old enough to be her grandfather, and far too old to be her man.” Had Minerva been in human form, she…she didn’t know what she would have done. As it was, the little tabby cat sat down. Hard. “Merlin help me,” Albus murmured, and Minerva heartily agreed with the sentiment.

He turned his back to the bed and opened his dresser drawer; Minerva saw her chance. She dashed out from under the desk, leapt onto the bed, and jumped into the rucksack. She heard Albus’s muttering grow louder as she burrowed frantically under the cloak. The cat froze as the man approached the bed. A small pile of light, fluffy balls assaulted her first, followed by other materials of varying weight and material. By the time the pressure on Minerva’s poor body had stopped increasing, she could scarcely breathe.

Suddenly everything was thrown sideways and lifted up, only to slam to a stop upon impact with what was presumably Albus’s back. Minerva scrambled around until she managed to get on top of the heavier things. As with most wizarding equipment, the knapsack fit far more than one would expect, and Albus had packed every last inch of it. She made herself a fairly comfortable nest, surrounded by half a dozen pairs of Albus’s socks.

To her dismay, rather than growing acclimated to the odd rocking motion caused by Albus’s walking, Minerva only felt more nauseous. Belatedly recalling her childhood episodes with seasickness, Minerva tried to breathe deeply. Cats couldn’t cast charms. Even before the three apparitions and two portkeys it would take to get them to France, she knew that this was going to be a miserable trip.

[Aurinko]

present time

[/b][/i]

“You’re telling us that you stowed away in Professor Dumbledore’s backpack so that you could go to France with him to help fight Grindelwald?”Rolanda asked, her voice breaking on the last word.

“I admit that maybe the backpack wasn't the best idea. I woke up with some of his blasted lemon drops stuck to my fur,” Minerva grumbled.

It was not the right answer.

“Are you totally mad, woman?” Rolanda shrieked.

Minerva sighed. Poppy frowned slightly. “You have to admit that it does sound a little…”

“—insane,” Serena interjected.

“…presumptuous,” Poppy said. Minerva glared at her. “Well, you’re only eighteen, you hadn’t even graduated yet, and you wanted to help the professor fight Grindelwald?”

“Yes,” Minerva said shortly. “I’m eighteen. I’m also an Animagus, Head Girl, and one of the best duelers in this school. And I wasn’t about to let him go by himself.” Her eyes grew distant. “It’s a good thing I went, too.”

flashback

[/i][/b]

11 April 1945

She was standing at the cellar door, guarding their exit. Three stunned, bound wizards slumped against the wall to her right, but it was the explosions from below that made her tremble. For twenty minutes she had waited, praying, pacing, muttering, and jumping at every sound and shadow.

Suddenly there came another explosion from down below, larger and louder than the others. Minerva collapsed with a small cry as a lancing pain burned through her chest. Breathing deeply, she worked to suppress the phantom pain, gasping as she struggled to her feet.

Half-stumbling, half-falling, Minerva threw open the cellar door and rushed down the stairs. The room was barely recognizable: wreckage was strewn everywhere and it looked as if the ceiling would collapse in moments. Minerva barely glanced at the strange dark-haired wizard crawling across the floor. Her wizard was lying prone in the opposite corner, and blood was seeping through his robes onto the floor. She spun at a scraping sound behind her; a quick, vengeful stunning spell slammed Grindelwald violently against the wall.

“Albus!” she cried sharply, running over to the auburn-haired wizard. Minerva dropped to her knees beside him, tears threatening as she saw the ominous dark stains on his torn robes. With trembling hands Minerva rolled him over and gently raised his head up. “Albus! Wake up, Albus!” Small cuts across his face were bleeding and he was frighteningly pale. “You have to wake up! Albus! Please,” she begged, not knowing whom she addressed. But Albus’s eyes remained closed, and somehow that one small fact broke her. “Please wake up, Albus. Please wake up. Wake up!” she said brokenly. Still, the wizard made no movement. “Please!” Minerva screamed.

She had never known such agony. Her body ached, burned, and froze all at once. And from the depths of her soul came such a cry of abject despair and unspeakable anguish that surely the heavens shook at the sound.

Poppy, Poppy, Minerva thought frantically. Merlin, where is Poppy when I need her? A deeper, calmer place inside her head knew that Albus needed a miracle, not a half-trained healer. And from that place flowed the idea, nothing less than insanity itself, and from that idea flowed hope, and the iron resolve that she would need to see it through.

Minerva raised her left hand it placed it over his heart; her right hand brushed back a stray lock of auburn hair before reaching out to touch his forehead lightly. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and with a prayer in her heart and the spell in her mind, began.

Her words were whispers, nothing more. “I take thee Albus from here at Death’s door back to the light of life. To this end I pledge to you all that I am, the strength of my body and of my mind, the power of my magic, and the deepest love of my heart. All that I have is yours, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, so that death shall not us part. Let my love be the spring in your step and the light to guide you home.”

She opened her eyes. A warm, brilliant scarlet light surrounded both Albus and Minerva, centering at her hands. It sparkled, it glowed, and it felt wonderful. Awed and hopeful, Minerva waited with bated breath.

Then the spell began to take effect. She felt a slight pulling sensation below her navel, almost like a portkey. The pulling grew stronger, and soon Minerva could feel her strength leaving her. That trickle of power became a stream, the stream a river, and soon Minerva was struggling for breath. But the light was growing stronger, flowing into Albus, flowing through Albus. Minerva watched as the little cuts on Albus’s face disappeared one by one. Broken bone fused slowly, marrow mended, and flesh knitted itself back together.

Minerva had just enough time to see his eyes flutter open and recognize her face before another spell hit her and she screamed. It was pain like she had never known could even exist; the agonized shrieking of every nerve, hellfire boiling in her veins, and above it all, the feel of a malice so great that its palpable darkness was choking.

She barely felt his hand dive into her pocket as he pulled out her wand and pointed it at someone behind her. Minerva’s last memory before the darkness closed over her was of the world’s darkest curse, cast in a combination of fury and fear.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

[Aurinko]

present time

[/i][/b]

She paused. They stared.

“What the hell happened?” Rolanda finally managed.

“Albus defeated Grindelwald.”

“Killed him, you mean.”

Minerva winced. “Don’t say that. It’s not something he’s proud of.”

Serena frowned. “Why not? He just rid the world of the most powerful Dark wizard of the century. The Muggles would have never made it to Berlin if Grindelwald’s forces hadn’t collapsed after his death.”

“Have you ever killed a man?” Minerva asked sharply. Serena shook her head mutely. “No? Then don’t tell me it’s something to be proud of until you find yourself staring at the empty shell of the living man that you’ve just destroyed.”

Rolanda looked horrified.

Minerva sighed. “Killing is…it’s…” She looked up to meet Poppy’s eyes. The mediwitch-in-training would understand. “The creation of life, healing, love—those are the greatest of the light magics. Even the Muggles know it, if they don’t fully understand it. The destruction of life…it’s the darkest kind of magic, something so foul that in committing the act you lose a part of yourself to its evil. Albus never should have been forced to cast that spell. He’s too good for that.”

A solemn silence fell over the four. Minerva recalled the horror in Albus’s eyes when he had seen Grindelwald behind her. Just as the bastard had intended, his Cruciatus had hurt Albus just as much as Minerva, and hurt her all the more because of it. Though she remembered very little of those last minutes, the look on Albus’s face when she screamed was burned into her memory. “And for some wizards, death isn’t enough,” Minerva spat.

“Yes,” Serena seconded emphatically, dark eyes blazing. She had lost a favorite uncle to the war against Grindelwald.

“What happened exactly, Minerva? That spell you used—I didn’t recognize it,” Poppy said, effectively redirecting the conversation.

Minerva smiled a little. “You weren’t there and it was all I could think of at the time. I’d just handed in my History of Magic paper on the binding spells used in old wizarding marriages. In some arranged marriages, they used to give a witch’s wealth, her body, and her magic to her husband. I just modified the spell a little, to use my magic to help him heal, and…it worked.”

“Minerva, I’ve read about those spells,” Poppy said hesitantly. “They were designed to strip a witch of her magic so that she couldn’t run away. How is it that you’re not a Squib?”

Minerva’s smile widened. “Because when Albus found out what I’d done, he bound his magic to me.”

flashback

[/i][/b]

14 April 1945

Minerva awoke to light, white light, and lots of it.

“Mademoiselle? Pouvez-vous m'entendre?”

“Albus?” Blinking, Minerva discerned the figure of a fresh-faced young French mediwitch who was observing her with poorly-disguised pity.

“Non, mademoiselle. Je suis désolée.”

“Désolée? Pourquoi? Oú est-il? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé?” Minerva began to panic.

“S’il vous plaît, mademoiselle! Il est bien. Il est dormant là-bas,” the mediwitch reassured her hurriedly, gesturing to the other side of her bed. Minerva’s eyes followed her hand, frantic until she saw Albus was indeed there, asleep in a chair.

“Merci,” Minerva whispered. “Albus…”

Though her whisper had been barely audible to herself, Albus stirred. Minerva could not name half the emotions that flashed through his eyes when he saw her awake. Neither noticed as the nurse made a discreet exit.

“Minerva!” He was at her side in an instant, reaching out a trembling hand to caress her face.

Minerva caught his hand and held it until its shaking stilled, and then kept it after. “I’m fine, Albus. Are you all right?”

“Yes, thanks to you,” he said, but his smile did not reach his eyes. “What did you do, Minerva? They said that none of their potions were working on you, because you had no magic for the potions to work with. That’s not possible.”

“I gave you my magic,” she said softly.

“You did what?”

“I gave—”

“I caught that part, but in Merlin’s name, why?” He was obviously shaken. A sweeping rush of emotion filled her, streaming from her heart in an effort to encircle his.

Albus glanced up at her, startled. “You were dying,” she said, failing to suppress the quiver in her voice. “You were dying, and it was the only thing I could think of to save your life.”

“But your magic, Minerva?” he asked, distressed.

“It was my magic or your life, Albus. It wasn’t much of a choice.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t going to just let you die!” she exclaimed.

“Why?” His voice was low and intense, and he was watching her carefully.

She looked at him incredulously. “You can’t honestly believe that I would have just left you there!”

“You could have found another way,” Albus said softly.

Minerva nearly screamed at him. “There wasn’t any time! I couldn’t think of anything else! I couldn’t think of anything!”

“Why?”

“Because you were dying, you idiot! You were there, bleeding all over the floor, and I couldn’t think straight—I couldn’t think! I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t—”

“Why?”

Had she had her wand at that moment, there was no doubt that she would have hexed him six ways from Sunday. As it was, her treacherous mouth blurted out the truth.

“Because I love you!”

Minerva took in a sharp breath. Green eyes wide, she swiveled her head up to look at Albus nervously.

His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed as if he were waging some kind of internal battle. “Ex abundantia cordis os loquitur,” he said softly. Then Albus opened his eyes, and without warning, kissed her.

Minerva gasped, but rather than take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, Albus pulled back slightly. “My God, Minerva, how I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. And this time, it was Minerva who kissed Albus.

present time

[/b]

“Squee!” Rolanda shrieked, pouncing on Minerva as if she were the cat-Animagus. Minerva yelped, snapped out of her reverie by 120 pounds of overexcited quidditch fanatic. Pausing, Rolanda took a deep breath. Awaiting an outburst, Minerva was surprised when Rolanda’s face took on a puzzled expression. Then, suddenly, the Hufflepuff shrugged, grinned, and then hugged her friend enthusiastically.

“Air, Ro!” Minerva gasped out.

Rolanda released her abruptly, and Minerva took a few deep, steadying breaths. “Sorry, Min. Got a little excited, I guess.”

“It’s all right,” Minerva said with a soft smile.

“Professor Dumbledore is good for you, Min,” Poppy commented lightly.

“Yes,” Serena agreed. “But it’s not ‘all right.’ You interrupted the story, Ro.”

“Sorry,” Rolanda repeated.

“Go on, Min. What happened next?” Poppy asked eagerly.

[Aurinko]

flashback

[/b]

Minerva kissed Albus, and for the first time in her life, her lips spoke the words of her heart, even while tongue-tied.

She was not shown the moon; they did not dance in the stars. It was perhaps even a bit awkward, but Minerva’s enthusiasm compensated for her inexperience, and Albus lacked neither.

It was a real kiss, awkwardness and eagerness and all, and with it, Minerva felt something deep within click into place. When they finally parted, minutes or hours or days later, both were breathless.

They stared at each other. Then, simultaneously:

“Albus—”

“Minerva—”

They laughed a little, and the tension lightened.

“You first,” Albus insisted, taking his seat again.

“Age before beauty,” Minerva countered quickly.

A hint of a smile appeared. “A very great beauty.” Minerva flushed. “And a very great age,” Albus added, more seriously.

Minerva’s green eyes flashed. “Minerva, I’m one hundred and five years old. You’re barely eighteen.”

Again, that dangerous light flared. “Your point?”

“We can’t do this. You’re my [/i]student, for Merlin’s—”

“Do you love me?” Minerva asked him bluntly, eyes intent on his face. “Do you love me, or did you lie to me just now?”

Albus’s shoulders slumped and he looked away. “Do you love me or not, Albus?” Despite her best efforts, Minerva’s voice shook at the question, as did Albus’s body.

There was a long silence. “Merlin help me, may the gods forgive me, I love you.” He met her gaze then; tortured sapphire to teary emerald. “I love you, Minerva. I cannot lie to you. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Minerva reached out to touch his face gently. “I love you, Albus. I think I always have.”

Albus trembled. “Minerva,” he began hoarsely.

A finger on his lips stopped him short. “Don’t,” Minerva said firmly. “Don’t tell me that I’m too young to love, that I’m too young for you. I’m not. I’m old enough to fight, old enough to love, old enough to make my own decisions. I’m not a child, Albus.”

“You’re barely more than a girl, Minerva. You never should have followed me to France.”

“‘Barely more than a girl?’” Minerva exclaimed, outraged. “What would have happened if I hadn’t come to France? You would have died, Albus Dumbledore. You would have died, and Grindelwald would rule the world, because nobody else could stand against him and win.” She glared at him. “Boys younger than I are dying every day in war, both in ours and in the Muggle war.”

“You’re not—”

“I have just as much right to fight for wh—what I love.” Albus’s expression softened. “You cannot deny me that.”

“There are other ways to fight, Minerva. You were safe at Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts would not have stayed safe for long! If you…if you had—” Without a white-hot anger burning behind her, Minerva was struggling to finish the forbidden thought.

“At least you would still have your magic!”

Minerva flinched and Albus immediately regretted his words. “Minerva, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No. I made my decision, and I don’t regret it,” she said firmly. Albus had no response. Minerva gave him a small smile. “Life as a Muggle can’t be that bad. There are millions of happy Muggles. I’ll have so much to learn—”

“You’re not a Muggle!” Albus interrupted heatedly.

Minerva smiled sadly. “I’m little better than a Squib.”

“No!” Albus adamantly refused to accept the truth. “You are a witch, Minerva. And I swear to you, somehow we’ll find a way to get your magic back. Now, tell me exactly what you did.”

Minerva bowed to Albus’s intensity. “I modified an old spell.”

“Which one?”

“The marriage binding,” Minerva said quietly.

Albus blinked once. “Why?”

“It was the only spell I knew powerful enough to save your life. Even the most advanced healing spells we’d learned wouldn’t have been enough. I’ve helped Poppy study enough to know that. But to give you my magic—to have it heal you—there was a chance, however small, that it might work. And so…I took it.” Albus looked pained, and Minerva, frustrated, struggled to come with a way to make him understand. Inspiration struck. “Albus—since I can’t seem explain it to you properly, why don’t you just see it for yourself?”

Albus’s eyes flew to her face. Minerva met his gaze squarely and nodded once.

When they spiraled back to the present, Albus’s entire demeanor had changed, and Minerva was never more grateful that she loved a Legilimens. There were some things that words simply could not express.

“Minerva,” Albus breathed, sounding exactly like a man who had just walked into a dream. “I had no idea…” Affection and awe mingled with the slightest hint of disbelief; it was hard to accept being made emperor of the earth, even when he held the crown in his hands.

Minerva smiled shyly, but said nothing, giving him the time to collect his thoughts. What more could she say?

“You are,” Albus declared suddenly, startling her. Her confusion must have shown, for Albus took her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. The look in his eyes drew her like a moth to the flame and sent a little shiver down her spine. “You are the light of my life and deepest love of my heart. You are the spring in my step and the song in my soul. But you are more than the lodestar that guides me home. You, Minerva, are my home.”

Albus mirrored Minerva’s actions, and though the words changed little, they carried a different quality when spoken to a conscious audience. “I take thee Minerva as my partner and equal in all things. To this end, I pledge to you all that I am, the strength of my body and of my mind, the power of my magic, and the deepest love of my heart. All that I have is yours, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. Life is love, love is magic, and all my magic lives in you. Let my love be the magic in your life.”

Minerva never knew what the magic looked like on that day. All she knew was that she was kissing Albus, and that there was true magic, and it was even better than wonderful.

[Aurinko]

Forgotten A/N: Ex abundantia cordis os loquitur—From the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.

Chapter Four: Remedy for Rolanda

present time

[/i][/b]

Minerva came back to the present with a soft smile. “Look.”

She lifted her right hand, palm up, and whispered the incantation. Just as they had been taught in class, a small ball of light formed to hover inches above her hand, the pure form of Minerva’s magical energy.

“Wow,” Rolanda breathed. “What happened?”

The four of them had laughed when they had discovered that their magical energies matched the colors of their houses: Serena’s Slytherin green, Poppy’s Ravenclaw blue, Rolanda’s Hufflepuff yellow, and Minerva’s Gryffindor red.

But the globe above Minerva’s hand was not the same shining scarlet it once had been. In its place was a brilliant violet sphere that blazed with a light far stronger than before.

“Incredible,” Poppy exclaimed, examining the sphere eagerly. “Your magics merged, didn’t they?”

“Inextricably,” Minerva replied. “Albus has a few theories about what happened, but all we know for sure is that somehow between the two spells, our magic mixed and…magnified. I tried to apologize—his blue-white magic really was beautiful—but he said that he liked this color much better. He even went out to buy some new robes so that ‘his magic would match his wardrobe!’ As if the man ever cared about matching colors!”

They all laughed at that.

“Fascinating,” Poppy said, walking around to examine Minerva’s globe from all angles. “Absolutely fascinating.” She looked up at Minerva hopefully. “Do you think…would you mind…could I study this, maybe?”

“If Albus has no objections, then I’m willing to become your lab rat for a bit, Poppy,” Minerva answered, amused. She closed her hand, and the light vanished.

“Wonderful!”

“Good luck with that, Min,” Rolanda said doubtfully.

Poppy glared at Rolanda. “No appreciation.”

Rolanda grinned. “Nope.”

Minerva laughed happily. Serena caught her eyes and smiled, nodding in agreement. They could have been first years again.

Except that eleven-year-olds, though possessing the same painfully-direct honesty that still characterized Rolanda, would never have asked her next question. “So, Min, how is he?”

“How is he?” Minerva echoed, confused.

“Yeah. How is he?” When Minerva continued to frown at her, Rolanda rolled her eyes. “Do I need to spell it out for you? How. Is. He. In. Bed.” Minerva’s jaw dropped comically. “Well?”

“Rolanda!” Poppy cried out. Minerva was speechless.

“Whaat? I never got to needle her about any of her boyfriends—”

“She hasn’t had any!”

“Exactly!” Rolanda said, pointing at Minerva accusingly. “And now she’s finally got a boyfriend, and I’m going to needle her!” Turning to Minerva, she demanded, “So? Tell us.”

Minerva closed her mouth abruptly. A moment passed, and then her green eyes took on a devious glint. “You really want to know? All right, then.” Leaning over, Minerva began to whisper in Rolanda’s ear.

There was a little cottage in France, a house by the sea. Three days they had stayed there together, “recuperating” from the battle. Recuperating and exhausting, exhausting and recuperating…

Minerva’s smile was positively wicked.

Ten minutes later, when Minerva leaned back into her chair, smirking, Rolanda’s face was white, her cheeks bright red. “Too much,” the Hufflepuff moaned, holding her head in her hands.

Poppy was staring at Minerva incredulously; Serena’s dark eyes sparkled. “So what did you tell Dippet?”

“The truth.” Serena raised an eyebrow. “Albus and I have never broken any of the student-teacher conduct rules here at Hogwarts. France, however, is another matter.”

Serena laughed appreciatively. “So very Slytherin, Minerva. I dare say I’m proud.” She sent her friend a quizzical look. “Though I do wonder about the extent of your…restraint. Seventy-two games of chess?”

“I never said that we finished all seventy-two games,” Minerva said, with that same Slytherin smile. “According to an old law, we were technically married when we merged our magics. And what a husband does with his wife in private is private.” Poppy’s eyes widened. “Besides, I think I gave the poor man enough trouble. I would not like to be rightly accused of giving the Headmaster of Hogwarts a heart attack.”

“Minerva!” Poppy cried.

Minerva glanced over at her friend and shrugged.

Serena broke into light applause, still smiling. “We’re going to talk, Min,” she said, shaking her head ruefully.

“Another time, Sera.” Minerva glanced up at the clock. “I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes.”

Serena’s smile widened. “Go. Make some more memories, but be sure to share them with Rolanda later, since she seems to appreciate them.”

Minerva flushed; Rolanda choked and groaned. “Oh, Merlin! Our professor…bad image, bad image…”

“Get used to it, Ro. Min’s made her choice, it seems,” Serena said bluntly, though a little smirk seemed to hover about corners of her mouth. “And you did ask.”

“But—” Rolanda began.

“I really do need to go,” Minerva interrupted abruptly.

Poppy smiled knowingly. “We’ll see you later, Min. Thank you for telling us.”

Serena seconded her, and even Rolanda snapped out of her horror for a moment to drop a word of thanks.

Minerva nodded, still a little pink. “You’re my best friends.” Blinking rapidly, Minerva hugged them each in turn. When she pulled away, Serena was smiling softly, Poppy’s eyes were watery, and Rolanda…Rolanda was wiping away a few errant tears. “Take care of yourselves. I’ll see you soon.”

A chorus of goodbyes turned into startled exclamations as Minerva disappeared, only to be replaced by a small, gray tabby cat. Poppy knelt beside the creature and reached out to pet it gently.

The little cat meowed, waved her tail, and then darted out the door, leaving three startled, smiling girls in her wake.

“Oh, Minerva…”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The little gray tabby cat scampered down the corridors, sliding along the stone as she turned the corners at breakneck speed. She was late.

Skidding to a stop outside a large portrait of Godric Gryffindor, the cat swiped a corner of the frame with her paw, leaping neatly out of the way as a cat-sized door swung open.

Jumping through the door and dashing up the staircase behind it with laudable alacrity, the tabby slowed just outside the door at the top of the stairs.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Albus Dumbledore’s head jerked up at the sound of the single, sharp knock on the door of his private quarters. There was only one person who knew his password and yet persisted in knocking despite his insistence that one did not announce one’s entrance into one’s own home.

At least she no longer waited for his fond, if often exasperated “Minerva!”

Albus replaced the gold-leaf cat bookmark in his current Muggle novel, set the book on the table, and rose.

He had not even taken a single step when he was thrown bodily back down onto the couch and kissed passionately enough to make his blood burn.

“I love you.”

Albus looked down at the dark-haired witch in his arms and smiled. “And I love you.”

Minerva nearly swallowed Albus’s last word, and within moments she was making him moan.

Albus drew back, flushed and breathless. “What brought this on?” he asked wonderingly, though far from displeased.

Minerva smiled. It was the kind of smile her friends had never imagined her capable of before today, the kind of smile that made the most powerful wizard of the age weak at the knees. Albus swore that the temperature in the room had just risen sharply. “Why don’t you take a look and see?” she asked, the smoldering heat in her voice almost palpable.

Albus swallowed hard and met her eyes. The temperature rose again as fire flared between them.

“We never…” he began hoarsely.

“Care to remedy that?”

His eyes widened at her boldness. Minerva opened her mouth to speak, but Albus was faster, and the kiss he gave her left no doubt as to his intentions. In one smooth motion he picked her up and carried her into his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them.

Remedy that, indeed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Sorry about that. Again, my thanks to everyone who reviewed; you guys are great! I think I might stick to ff.net from now on, just because I understand it better. I'm working on another AD/MM fic, actually, and my name's the same there, if anyone would like to read it.

[Sola]

That was great! I especially liked the Flashbacks! ;D...great work, realy!

Anyway...I'd love it if ya would also keep on posting at the board...lot of people are posting on board and on ff.net, and if ya don't understand something there is always someone around here who can explain.

Sola

[TartanLioness]

This was great! I can't remember if I reviewed on FF.Net but if not, then I am now... obviously... yeah... I really loved this and I loved the way their magic is bound to the other... Loved the story in general!!

Keep writing!!

Cammie!!

[amandahleigh]

I've read this about three times already, but I love it so I read it again. Just wanted to let you know


AL

[Jessabelle]

Excellent story!

[ismaco]

I reviewed this in ff.net but I've just read it here (the 5th time already) and I thought I needed to review again.
Your story is GREAT... it is certanly one of my favourites! Hope you keep writing...
Thanks a lot!
Isabel

[gingerkitten]

Good Job!

[zoeteproet]

Wonderful story, there was only one thing I didn't really understood, at the end:
“We never…” he began hoarsely
that was what Albus said after Min came in his rooms and kissed him, but do you mean they've never made love?
Because I thought they had 'done' it in France?
For the rest your story is great! Loved it! ;D
Love,
Sarah xx

[elivania]

That was wonderful!!!! So good. *Eli*

[mrsdumbledores]

poor Ro... but who said he's that bad looking... evil grin....
imagination dearies...
super story!!!!

[McGonagallsGirl]

Nice!

--MG

[albus1sttabby]

I really love it, especially how there magic is bound in the other.

[Rosemary Dumbledore McGonagall]

I can't believe I never found this before! This is brilliant!

[Mandy McGonagall-Dumbledore]

Amazing!! ❤️