Resolving a Misunderstanding (complete)

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post on the last page!

LXXXIX: Many Meetings, continued

“Yes, well, I’m sure he noticed that Hagrid was behaving more normally at lunch, so unless you want to, there’s probably no need. Although I must say, Wilhelmina, I won’t miss the conversations you and Hagrid have. Flesh-eating Slug slime while people are trying to eat their lunches?”

“We forget where we are and get carried away, that’s all. Just remind me the next time we veer into unappetising areas!”

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t forget so much that you truly get carried away and start reenacting the dragon mating rituals at the table. I think that would put everyone off their feed permanently!” Minerva said with a grin.

Wilhelmina laughed good-naturedly, but blushed. “I can’t believe you were there and saw everything. It’s so embarrassing.”

“I closed my eyes. I wouldn’t have chosen to be there, myself, believe me, but I had no idea what I would witness when I decided to take my catnap in Hagrid’s garden. But . . . it was sweet. I mean, I’m sure you don’t need to know what I thought, but, well, don’t be too embarrassed,” Minerva stuttered, hesitantly adding, “But you might want to check the bushes and around corners before you do such a thing again, and then cast a few privacy spells. Or just stick to indoors.”

Wilhelmina nodded. “We don’t usually . . . only a few times. And only when the school has been deserted – I should have listened to Hagrid. He will be so mortified.”

“I don’t see any reason for him to know I was there. If you want, you can tell him that we just happened to talk, and I told you about one of my relationships, so you talked about him. It might be nice if, after you leave, he had someone to be around who knows and understands, even if he doesn’t really talk about it. And we are friends. I’ll try to help him adjust, Wilhelmina. Don’t worry too much about him. Go have fun with your dragons. I hope your flame-repellant charms are up-to-snuff!”

The two witches talked another fifteen minutes about Wilhelmina’s new job, and it was clear the witch was looking forward to it. Finally, Minerva excused herself.

“I have a few more things to do before supper, but I’ll probably see you then. And I’m glad we talked.”

Minerva made the long trek back to the Headmaster’s office, stopping off in her rooms on the way to pick up her own quill and ink. It was nothing as fancy as the Headmaster’s, just a good, old-fashioned goose feather, but it made a nice line.

It was good that she had talked to Wilhelmina, as embarrassing as it had been for both of them. She was relieved that Wilhelmina hadn’t taken advantage of Hagrid when he was a teenager. It hadn’t seemed likely, but one never knew about people. Wilhelmina hadn’t even considered him attractive until he was out of his teens, apparently. Minerva smiled; it was nice that Hagrid had had this experience, even if he felt broken-hearted now. He’d get over it. He might even find someone else. He’d need that spell of Wilhemina’s. . . . Minerva grinned to herself.

After reading through Belby’s letter and making a few more notes, Minerva checked the time. Albus hadn’t come down yet, and dinner would be soon. Perhaps he really had lain down for a nap and fallen asleep. Feeling uneasy about going up to his rooms after her imprudent thoughts about him earlier, and not knowing whether he had really meant it when he’d said she could wake him, Minerva was unsure whether she should just wait for Albus or go find him. He could have set his Muggle alarm clock, after all, and not be expecting her at all. But if he were counting on her to wake him . . . she’d best go up, she decided resolutely.

Minerva slipped up the stairs and knocked gently on the sitting room door. When she heard nothing stirring within, she slowly opened the door and peeked in. The draperies were drawn back, and the sitting room was cheerfully bright with the late day sun, but Albus was nowhere to be seen. Could it be he was elsewhere in the castle?

She crossed the room and quietly rapped on the bedroom door. Uneasily, she opened the door and looked in. The room was dimly lit, the curtains closed, and she couldn’t see through to the bed. The bathroom was to her left, and the wall created a short hallway into the bedroom. Taking a breath, she reminded herself that she was a Gryffindor, Albus’s good friend, and that she had helped him through all kinds of situations. Waking him from an afternoon nap was a far cry from dragging him, bloody and half-dead, from a filthy hole in France, after all.

With that encouraging thought, Minerva tiptoed over to the bed. Albus had removed his shoes and his outer robe, which was draped at the foot of the bed, and was wearing only a very lightweight gold-coloured underrobe, no doubt chosen to complement the gold spirals in his outer robe. He was lying on his side on top of the bed, a light coverlet grasped in front of him, as though he had shoved it off in his sleep. Albus was now clutching it to his chest; from his expression, Minerva thought he might be dreaming. Much as she hated to wake him, he wouldn’t want to sleep through dinner. Big Ben might wake him . . . perhaps she should leave, she thought, looking around for his Muggle alarm clock. But then Albus murmured something in his sleep. She couldn’t understand what it was he was saying, but it was clear that she should either wake him or leave.

“Albus! It’s Minerva. Time to wake up!” Minerva cringed to herself. She’d begin to sound like Gluffy soon. “Albus, would you like to sleep a bit longer?” she asked softly as Albus’s eyes fluttered open; she could call Wilspy and ask her to bring him his dinner in his suite.

Albus blinked and looked up at her sleepily. “Mmm. Minerva,” he said with a deep sigh. He closed his eyes again. His hand released its grip on the sheet and inched toward her.

Minerva gingerly perched on the edge of the bed beside him. “Are you all right, Albus?” She touched his brow. He was a little warm, but the room was too warm for her liking.

“Hmm?” Albus opened his eyes and blinked again. Minerva quickly removed her hand. “Oh, Minerva, I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to sleep this long.” His voice was hoarse. “What time is it?”

“About forty-five minutes till dinner. It’s all right; you have time. But are you feeling well?”

“Perfectly.” He pulled the coverlet toward him. “Just fine. But, umm,” he said, suppressing a yawn, “a little warm.”

“I’m concerned about you, Albus.” Minerva examined his face. Other than a slight flush, however, he seemed fine, wide-awake and fine.

“Could you open the draperies, my dear? And perhaps a window?” He covered himself with the light blanket.

“Certainly – and may I suggest that you get rid of that blanket? You’ll make yourself ill sleeping in such a warm room, all covered up like that,” Minerva said, trying to speak as briskly as her mother did to her patients, as she walked over to one of the windows and pulled back the curtains. “And you should have something to drink. Something cool, but not cold.”

“Yes, ma’am, Mother McGonagall!” Albus quipped.

Minerva laughed. If he was calling her “Mother McGonagall,” he was fine.

A fresh breeze came through the window, and Minerva turned to open another one. When she finished, she saw that Albus was sitting up, but still hadn’t moved from the bed and was still clutching the blanket in front of him. Well, Gertie interrupting his half-nude beard-bucket time had apparently not prepared him to have his Transfiguration Mistress wake him from a sound sleep in his bedroom, Minerva thought wryly.

“I’ll wait for you in your sitting room, then?” Minerva asked.

Albus bobbed his head in cheery agreement, and Minerva left him to dress. From the sitting room, Minerva heard the water running in the bathroom, and Albus joined her a few minutes later, his beard and hair freshly brushed.

Minerva smiled up at him. “You look more awake! How are you feeling?”

“I am fine. I have been burning the candle at both ends, I’m afraid – just what you warned me against this afternoon. And I will try to take better care to get more sleep,” he said, holding up his hand to forestall the admonishment on her lips.

“All right – but I will remind you, if I need to, Albus! And I wouldn’t be unhappy if you had Poppy check you over while she’s still here. She’s leaving for her grandmother’s tomorrow evening. Would you do that?”

“Not necessary! But thank you for your concern.” Albus sounded slightly annoyed, but Minerva persisted.

“You were quite warm – you may be catching something. Maybe you picked up something while you were at St. Mungo’s.”

Albus looked down at Minerva. “My dear. I do appreciate your concern, but I merely slept too long in a room that was too warm. I am neither an infant nor yet in my dotage that I require looking after.”

Minerva raised her eyebrows. “Very well. In that case, we should get on with our meeting. I have a few questions about Belby’s letter. My notes are in your office. Let’s go there now.”

Minerva stood and started for the stairs, feeling a complete fool for having expressed her concern for him. He was the Headmaster. She was a teacher at his school. They were friends, but clearly she had overstepped some invisible boundary. And she was not going to allow it to bother her. Yet his words rang in her head as she preceded him down the brass spiral staircase, I am neither an infant nor yet in my dotage that I require looking after. He had clearly chafed at her well-meant concerns. Perhaps he simply didn’t understand that she was truly concerned about his welfare. He could think she was being patronising . . . as though he could be patronised! He was the most powerful wizard of their age! But what had Gertrude said, there in the garden? Something about how, despite his power, his intelligence, and his talents, he sometimes needed protecting, even from himself occasionally? Minerva now understood that to mean the incident with Valerianna . . . but perhaps it meant more than that. I am neither an infant nor yet in my dotage that I require looking after.

Minerva headed over to the sitting area where she left had her notes. Albus went to his desk.

“Professor, my notes are over here.” She sat down deliberately. She was not going to let him hide behind his desk so easily. Unless he insisted.

“And mine are here,” he answered with a slight smile as he sat down at his desk. “As is the letter, which you so efficiently returned. Thank you, Professor!”

Minerva flushed, but got up and moved. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry, my dear . . . our time is short, though. And it’s my fault entirely for having fallen asleep.”

“Yes, well, as you said . . . burning the candle at both ends . . . .” Minerva was still peeved that he dismissed her concern for him the way he had. It was one thing not to want to see Poppy, and another for him to act as though her concern for him was unwelcome condescension when she hadn’t intended it that way at all. She thought he knew her better than that.

“And we can see each other later tonight, after the committee meeting, to discuss what happens after I’ve left – ”

“No, you said you were having an early night. I wouldn’t want to keep you up. Now, our time is short, as you just pointed out. I only have a few questions.”

Minerva went rapidly through the few questions she had, then the chime went off overhead.

“I assume that means that dinner is in ten minutes. I will see you there, then, Professor.” Minerva nodded at Albus as she stood to leave.

“Yes . . . and Minerva, if you have any other questions – ”

Minerva was at the door. “No, sir, but if I think of any, I will let you know.” She opened the door, then paused and looked back at him. “You know, I was only concerned about you. I am very well aware that you are neither an infant nor in your dotage. You are the Headmaster of Hogwarts, hero of the wizarding world, and the most powerful warlock alive . . . and the most vital wizard of my acquaintance. I believe us to be friends, as well, and I look after my friends. It was of our friendship I was thinking, not of your status. I apologise for offending you.”

She turned and left the office quickly, closing the door quietly behind her. Stuffing her notes into her pockets, Minerva popped into her Animagus form. She raced down the moving stairs, barely stumbling in her lithe and agile cat form. Minerva couldn’t believe that she had said what she had . . . to have suffered a fit of pique like that . . . Albus must be even more offended than he had been before. But at least he knew her well enough, she hoped, to know that she would still do her best for him at the meeting that evening. She just wished she knew what it was she kept doing wrong. Maybe it was nothing . . . maybe it was just her. Maybe it was just . . . It.

---

Note: I hope you enjoyed this. It will likely be at least ten days before the next update.

[Hogwarts Duo]

Lots and lots to comment on in this long chapter so I'll try my best to be brief...

Professor Evandras needs to get a life and learn when to keep her mouth shut. UGH. Gossips like her are the worst sort. They don’t care who they inflict pain upon as long as they get the juicy details. WOO HOO to Minerva for putting her in her place succinctly and for giving Albus a subtle message about how they both should ignore Valerianna. I wholeheartedly agree with Minerva…she’s not worth their time and energy!

Poppy is such an adorable character, loyal and trustworthy. I love to see her used in stories where she and Minerva are friends. I think that it’s healthy for Minerva to confide in Poppy a little, even if she can’t tell her everything. And it was very amusing to see Poppy drawing a similar, though just as flawed, opinion of Albus and Minerva’s early friendship as it was for Minerva’s opinion of Hagrid and Wilhemenia. Too cute!

“Ah, but, my dear, I do not always have you there to lay me down then wake me up as you did yesterday evening.” Albus had intended it to be a joke, but as the words came out of his mouth, he found they sounded quite different from how he had intended them; instead, they sounded much more as he actually felt: that it had been lovely to have her there with him and to see her face when he awoke. It was all he could do to keep from blushing crimson. He sipped his tea, fussing with the lemon.

“Well, if that’s what it takes, I’ll tuck you in and come by and wake you up,” Minerva answered.

This little exchange is so cute and so telling. They would both love to just stretch out on Albus’ bed and curl up for a nap together but neither is willing to openly admit it. Shame on them!

The chat with Wilhemenia about the situation with Hagrid and what Minerva overheard and saw went brilliantly, if a little embarrassing for both witches. I would love to have seen Wilhemenia’s face when she realized that Minerva saw and heard it all. EEEK!

Yet another lovey-dovey moment between our dear Albus and Minerva. The dream Albus was obviously having had to have been of Minerva so that’s was wonderful. I hope we’ll get the chance to see exactly what he was dreaming. But then he goes and ruins the moment by basically accusing her of things she didn’t say or do. How dare he assume that just because she shows a little concern for him that she suddenly thinks he’s ready for a zimmer frame or a pram. UGH!!! Albus just needs to lighten up a bit and enjoy his time with Minerva before he pushes her too far away! He's so concerned about what she *might* think of him instead of really looking hard and discerning what she is trying to show him through her actions.

AND TEN WHOLE DAYS? The only saving grace for you missy is that we get the book next week and that will no doubt keep some of us occupied for a day or maybe two! Enjoy your time away.

TTFN,
GLM

[MMADfan]

hogwartsduo said:

<snip!>

Poppy is such an adorable character, loyal and trustworthy. I love to see her used in stories where she and Minerva are friends. I think that it’s healthy for Minerva to confide in Poppy a little, even if she can’t tell her everything. And it was very amusing to see Poppy drawing a similar, though just as flawed, opinion of Albus and Minerva’s early friendship as it was for Minerva’s opinion of Hagrid and Wilhemenia. Too cute!

Glad you like Poppy -- she's a great character to have around, and I thought her concern for Minerva was sweet, even if she jumped to the wrong conclusions!

hogwartsduo said:

“Ah, but, my dear, I do not always have you there to lay me down then wake me up as you did yesterday evening.” Albus had intended it to be a joke, but as the words came out of his mouth, he found they sounded quite different from how he had intended them; instead, they sounded much more as he actually felt: that it had been lovely to have her there with him and to see her face when he awoke. It was all he could do to keep from blushing crimson. He sipped his tea, fussing with the lemon.

“Well, if that’s what it takes, I’ll tuck you in and come by and wake you up,” Minerva answered.

This little exchange is so cute and so telling. They would both love to just stretch out on Albus’ bed and curl up for a nap together but neither is willing to openly admit it. Shame on them!

Yes, well, that time will come, but they are still too embarrassed about their own feelings to accurately read the other's. They're both busy thinking about what they really meant than to think about what the other person might be saying!

hogwartsduo said:

The chat with Wilhemenia about the situation with Hagrid and what Minerva overheard and saw went brilliantly, if a little embarrassing for both witches. I would love to have seen Wilhemenia’s face when she realized that Minerva saw and heard it all. EEEK!

Humiliating might be a good word to describe the experience from poor Wilhelmina's perspective! Glad you liked it!

hogwartsduo said:

Yet another lovey-dovey moment between our dear Albus and Minerva. The dream Albus was obviously having had to have been of Minerva so that’s was wonderful. I hope we’ll get the chance to see exactly what he was dreaming. But then he goes and ruins the moment by basically accusing her of things she didn’t say or do. How dare he assume that just because she shows a little concern for him that she suddenly thinks he’s ready for a zimmer frame or a pram. UGH!!! Albus just needs to lighten up a bit and enjoy his time with Minerva before he pushes her too far away! He's so concerned about what she *might* think of him instead of really looking hard and discerning what she is trying to show him through her actions.

You've got that right! But he will see the error of his ways, then Minerva will reinforce it! And he just may also draw a few conclusions about his attempts to maintain his distance from Minerva while simultaneously acting like her friend! And yes, you will find out what he was dreaming!

hogwartsduo said:

AND TEN WHOLE DAYS? The only saving grace for you missy is that we get the book next week and that will no doubt keep some of us occupied for a day or maybe two! Enjoy your time away.

TTFN,
GLM

I hope to enjoy my time away. I am not entirely sure when I will be returning, but I hope I will be back before the book is released! I will likely be reading the book, along with hundreds of thousands of others, for a few days, so that's also bound to put a slight delay in updates, although I will have a chapter to post for you all as soon as I return, since it's close to complete now! (I don't think I can wait to get my book in the mail through Amazon.co.uk -- I think I'll be heading down to the little local B. Dalton and trying to snag a copy next Saturday morning! I'll just sell it on eBay when I'm finished . . . .)

Thanks, GLM, for your review! And everyone else, too, of course. I won't be online much in the next couple days, and probably not at all while I'm away, so thanks in advance for all your comments and reviews! (And I'm glad that the "Hagrid chapter" amused! Hee!)

[Trulyamused]

Excellent. Your handled Wilhelmina and Minerva's conversation very well.

As always I look forward to your updates.

Truly

[esoterica1693]

This chapter was wonderful. Albus was clearly having a very, ahem, lovely, dream. ;-) Their dancing around each other is exquisite torture, for them and for us--with equal emphasis on "exquisite" and "torture." :-)

I hope that eventually Minerva will learn what haunted/s Albus from the Grindelwald encounter.

Hopefully between Quin and Poppy Minerva will get some more clue-by-fours sent her way if/when she needs them. She's slowly beginning to admit Quin may have a point about It's power. Maybe.

And I think the Meena-bird's slow realization of how she felt about Hagrid, and how the two of them were able to have a relationship even though very unequal in so many ways, could be a subtle model for Minerva....

Have a good trip, MMADfan!

[MMADfan]

Note: Okay, I was supposed to leave town today, but my vacation has been delayed a couple days -- car trouble and a couple other RL things getting in the way, soooo, surprise! Here's another chapter for you! I have no idea when the next chappie will be up, since I'm now going to be gone until sometime next weekend or early the following week. Hope you enjoy this!

Unfortunately, this is slightly too long for one post, so it's split in two.

XC: An Escort in Dark Places

It seemed as though every time he turned around, he managed to offend Minerva, Albus thought. And it was his fault. He should have been professional from the beginning, from the moment she stepped through the doors of Hogwarts as a teacher in December. He should have met with her just as he had everyone else and treated her just as he did the rest of the staff. He never should have ignored her and given her cause to worry about their friendship. They had come so far in repairing the damage he had unintentionally done their relationship, and yet his inability to let down his guard completely . . . fearing what he might say or do . . . somehow he was going about it the wrong way.

Minerva’s concern for him shouldn’t have annoyed him the way it had, either. He had been curt with her, and then he had sat at his desk and not joined her in the sitting area, asserting his authority as Headmaster. Albus felt even worse now. He certainly didn’t want to use his status as some kind of bludgeon in his personal relationships – and he never would have imagined that he would do so, either. It hadn’t been intentional. He had simply felt uncomfortable with Minerva after he had woken as he had, especially after her repeated expressions of concern for him.

Albus sighed and gathered himself to go down to dinner. He should have set Big Ben before he lay down, but he really hadn’t believed he would fall asleep. And then when he woke up . . . he’d been having the most lovely dream. Minerva had been in it . . . they were sitting on the cliffs by her home, perched high above the ground. He was leaning against a boulder, the sun was shining, but the wind was blowing in off the sea . . . it was warm in the sunlight, and he was holding Minerva in his arms. She was leaning back . . . looking up at him and smiling. He was caressing her face, kissing her forehead, and she had just tilted her face and begun to kiss him when . . . Minerva had woken him. He was confused, thinking for a moment that he was still dreaming. Then he opened his eyes and realised that he had been dreaming and was now waking up. It had been most unusual . . . he usually was very aware of his dreaming and waking states, able to wake himself easily from any dream – or from the occasional nightmare. But this dream . . . it had seemed as real as his waking life.

Albus shook his head to himself; no doubt it was all simply the result of having been too warm while he slept. And now, of course, Minerva was worried about him. He would reassure her. And he would try not to do anything for which he would have to apologise again . . . though that seemed highly unlikely.

The door at the bottom of his stairs scraped open and the gargoyle sprang aside for him. Albus winced, remembering Minerva’s words. Minerva had been upset that he had seemed not to accept her concern. He did appreciate it. He just didn’t want her thinking of him as a weak, sickly old man. Foolish of him – it was nothing he normally worried about. But Minerva seemed to bring out all kinds of things in him . . . his desire to have her think well of him not the least of them, either, nor, unfortunately, the greatest.

When Albus reached the Great Hall, he realised he must be late, since almost everyone was already seated. He was pleased to see that Hagrid’s mood was still improved. Whatever had been the matter with the boy had apparently passed, fortunately. Minerva wasn’t there yet, but Gertrude was, deep in conversation with Hafrena MacAirt. They both looked up at him at the same time and nodded, Hafrena smiling and seeming to look at something just over his shoulder in that way she had. Albus nodded cordially at them, then took one of the few free remaining seats. It was beside Dustern, who wasn’t his usual choice of a mealtime companion, but it left a chair open to his right, and Poppy Pomfrey was sitting on the other side of that free chair. He hoped that Minerva would choose to sit beside her friend even if she were still upset with him. And it wasn’t like Minerva to hold grudges, after all.

As their supper appeared, Albus apologised to everyone for being late.

Poppy grinned at him. “If we can’t all wait two extra minutes for our food, there’s something very wrong with us, indeed!”

As Albus sipped his chilled cucumber soup, he managed civil, though sterile, conversation with Dustern, trying not to keep looking at the door, wondering when Minerva would arrive. When Minerva did enter the Great Hall, Albus saw what had been keeping her. She had changed out of her saffron and raspberry robes and donned some similar to those she wore when school was in session, though not as plain. The bodice and skirt were of tartan, and the sleeves and stand-up collar were pale grey, and there was a wide border of grey at the hem. Albus smiled as she took the chair between him and Poppy. She could have sat between Johannes and Wilhelmina, both of whom she liked.

“Freshen up before the meeting, Professor?” Albus asked with a twinkle.

“Just so, Professor,” Minerva answered, tasting her soup. “I thought this more appropriate.”

“Very nice tartan.” He wished that Dustern weren’t sitting on his left. He would like to tell Minerva how lovely she had looked earlier . . . but then she might think that he thought she didn’t look nice now, and she did. The green in the tartan brought out the colour in her eyes, and the grey emphasised the healthy glow in her cheeks.

“Excuse me a moment, my dear,” Albus said a few minutes later. “If I might have a word with Poppy?” They had been discussing something to do with a party at Poppy’s grandmother’s, and Albus hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but he had exhausted all polite conversation with the current Charms professor, and he wanted to ask Poppy something while Minerva was still present.

“Of course, Professor.” Minerva looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Poppy, before you leave tomorrow, would you have time to give me a quick once-over? I think I’ve just been overextending myself lately, but it has been suggested that I may have come into contact with something at St. Mungo’s that might be contributing to my slight fatigue today. Just to be on the safe side, perhaps you wouldn’t mind . . . ?” Albus asked, smiling.

“Of course! In fact, you can stop by after supper. It won’t take long. I suspect you’re right, and you’ve just been doing too much – as usual! If that’s the case, a quick diagnostic will suffice.”

Albus hesitated. “Do you mind waiting until tomorrow? If it is not inconvenient. I have a few things I need to do this evening . . . and there’s the meeting, as well.”

“No, that’s fine. Nine o’clock, then?”

Albus agreed readily, pleased to see that Minerva was looking at him with a fond smile. At least, he thought the smile was directed at him. And it appeared to be fond. His supposition was confirmed a moment later, when he felt Minerva pat his leg under the table. With her touch, it seemed that something unknotted in his chest, and he relaxed, smiling.

“Wonderful soup, isn’t it, Minerva?” He had to say something to explain the silly grin that was spreading across his face.

“It is. Chilled soup is always refreshing at this time of year.” She looked over at him, eyes smiling warmly, a slight smile playing about her lips.

Albus had to avert his gaze consciously, lest he sit there in the Great Hall like a schoolboy with a crush, staring with obvious enthralment and open admiration at the object of his infatuation. But this was no infatuation, even if he had not long ago out-grown such short-lived passions. He would need to be careful how much of his emotion he displayed toward Minerva . . . but he wanted her to be secure in their friendship and to know that he valued her opinion, even if he was occasionally a cantankerous old codger.

His elation faded with that thought. Yes, a cantankerous old codger. Cantankerous or not, there was no denying he was an old codger. The thought normally amused Albus, but not at the moment. He was foolishly in love with a witch for whom he was far too old. . . .

He needed to take particular care of his friendship with Minerva. He was fortunate, indeed, that she wanted to spend time with him at all . . . that she seemed to genuinely enjoy it. Albus didn’t want to drive a wedge between them again, whether one like that which had separated them after Carson’s death or the one he had unintentionally created over the course of the previous term. They had spent more time together as friends when Minerva had been living in London than they had during those first months she lived there in the same castle with him. Despite this, Albus was still uncomfortable with the idea of spending very much time alone with her. But if he could discover the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, he could discover a way to spend time with her without overdoing it or revealing the depth of his feelings for her.

After dinner, Albus returned to his office to look over his notes once again. He knew what he was going to say, how he would lay out his plan and his reasoning behind it, but reading through the words on the page would help to carry him through his presentation without distraction.

An hour later, leaving the staff room after his presentation, Albus hurried out the great front doors of the castle and down the path to the gates. Madam Puddifoot’s closed at ten on Sundays. He should be able to get there before she closed if he Apparated into town. With a crack, Albus arrived in the small side alley next to Scrivenshaft’s and took off briskly down the street and around the corner to Puddifoot’s. The decor may leave something to be desired, but she did do a lovely trifle, Albus thought. But it wasn’t trifle he was after that evening. His eyes twinkled as he thought of the way that Minerva had given him her trifle that noon. It may not be her favourite pudding, but she usually ate it when it was served. It had been very kind of her to let him have it – especially after he had made a hash of the rest of his meal. Albus had been concerned what Minerva might say or do when Valerianna’s name came up in the conversation, but he needn’t have worried. He had no idea what he thought she might have said . . . it had been just a vague, formless worry.

Albus smiled, remembering Minerva’s words about Valerianna, that she was not worth any of them spending another thought on her. Whatever Minerva might know about his humiliating association with the witch, he doubted that she held it against him. Of course, she couldn’t know the whole truth of the affair . . . unless Valerianna had said something to her, and he simply couldn’t imagine that she would have done that. Perhaps he should speak to Gertrude about Valerianna, after all, he pondered as he entered Madam Puddifoot’s.

Fifteen minutes later, Albus was whistling a funny tune from his childhood as he walked back up to the castle. His mission had been a success. Now . . . how to carry out the rest of his plan? Thinking of the cooperation he had received from the Silent Knight in the past, Albus grinned and set out for Minerva’s room, first casting a quick peek at the staff room to make sure the meeting was still in progress. He didn’t use an eavesdropping charm, merely a little spell that would tell him how many occupants were in the room. No one had left yet, fortunately!

Albus sprinted up the stairs, arriving on the fourth floor slightly winded, but in good spirits. And just as he had hoped, the Silent Knight agreed to cooperate in his “quest,” as the portrait designated it. He seemed to find Albus a most chivalrous and gallant gentleman, which Albus found amusing, considering that his efforts were by way of yet another apology to Minerva. Apologies he shouldn’t have to make because he shouldn’t be offending her. Of course, she had harped on about his health, but that had been only mildly irritating. The only insult was in his own head. Minerva had said nothing about him being an old man who had to start taking care of himself, after all. It was he who had been using and thinking the word “old,” not she.

Albus headed back up to his suite, hoping that his plan would work . . . and without him behaving like a giddy teenager with his first crush, even if he did tend to feel somewhat giddy around Minerva. Warm and friendly but . . . grandfatherly, he supposed, would have to do. He hated that notion, but it would help him to maintain control of himself if he reminded himself to behave . . . grandfatherly. Perhaps “avuncular” might be a better term to use – it was not quite so apt to make him queasy.

---

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

XC: An Escort in Dark Places, continued

Minerva emerged from the staff room tired but not unhappy. It had been a productive meeting. After Albus had left, Birnbaum had been selected to chair the little committee, and Minerva thought that, although he never seemed particularly organized to her, he was fair and could be impartial in running the meetings, despite his own opinions. That was important – just as it was important for Minerva to put aside her own doubts and criticisms while doing her best to represent the Headmaster’s perspective. The committee had then determined a course of action, which parts of the proposal to examine first and which difficulties and pitfalls should be explored before moving on. Each member of the committee had been assigned one aspect of Dumbledore’s plan and a corresponding problem, and each was to be prepared to discuss them at the next meeting, which was set for eight-thirty in the morning of the sixteenth. Each staff member promised to do their best to consider all sides of everything and to withhold any conclusions until they had done so. Minerva thought that Dumbledore’s proposal would be treated as fairly as possible, as would Pretnick. Birnbaum had reminded the committee before they left never to forget the human being, Robert Pretnick, who was at the core of all of their deliberations.

Minerva was just as pleased that she had been called on to do very little except answer a few questions about the potion. Because she had read through Belby’s letter carefully, she had happily been able to answer them clearly and succinctly. She had taken many notes, however, and would have to find time the next day to meet with Albus and go over them with him.

Minerva smiled. They could meet after he had seen Poppy. She was sure he was right, and he was just overextending himself. From what Poppy had said to her on prior occasions, this was habitual with the Headmaster. Perhaps it had been silly of her to want him to have the mediwitch examine him, but she had only been concerned with his welfare. It was kind of him to humour her . . . and without it feeling as though he were merely humouring her. She would have to remember in the future that he liked a little fussing over him but not too much.

It had been a very long day, and Minerva was grateful when she reached her rooms. She gave her password hurriedly. Normally, she only had it halfway out of her mouth and the Silent Knight opened the door for her. This time, however, the Knight bowed, and the door did not even make a click. Just as Minerva was about to protest, the Silent Knight spoke.

“My lady, the lord of this castle has set for me a mission which, as your humble servant and mere chattel, I would loathe refuse, as the lord’s quest is noble and most worthy. He begs that you attend him this night and is most anxious for your gracious presence!” The knight bowed again stiffly.

“The Headmaster wishes to see me?” Minerva asked, puzzled.

“Yes, my lady, Master Dumbledore has requested your attendance this evening in his high tower.”

“And if I want to enter my rooms? You are not supposed to lock me out, you know.”

“Yes, my lady.” The Knight nodded, resigned, and the door clicked open. “I have failed in my mission,” he said with a dolorous sigh.

“No, you haven’t. I simply wish to put my parchments away. I will go directly to the Headmaster’s Tower after I drop my things off and use the loo. All right with you?”

The Knight nodded.

“For a Silent Knight, you have certainly been talkative recently . . . too bad you won’t see fit to announce my visitors, like a normal portrait,” Minerva grumbled as she entered her sitting room.

“I am not a normal portrait. I am your servant, my lady!”

“Hmpf!”

But Minerva was good as her word, and five minutes later, she was on her way up to Albus’s office. She had left her notes behind in her rooms, however. She had told him they could wait to discuss the meeting until tomorrow, and wait they would, no matter what his “quest” was! And why did she have to have such a peculiar door portrait?

Minerva reached Dumbledore’s office, but it was dark but for the moonlight, and the portraits were snoring. He must be in his quarters. She went up the spiral brass stairs, warm light coming from the open sitting room door illuminating her way. Minerva smiled as she reached the top of the stairs: Albus was sitting in a wingback chair on the far side of the room, his feet up, and was just putting his book down as she entered.

“Minerva! Thank you so much for coming. I presume that your portrait passed on my message?”

“I’m not entirely sure what message you gave him, Albus, but if it had to do with ‘missions,’ ‘quests,’ and your ‘high tower,’ he did!” Minerva said with a laugh.

Albus chuckled and stood. “No, my dear, I did not use those particular words, but he achieved the purpose I set for him, so that’s all to the good!”

“I was quite puzzled by his behaviour, as he delivered his message before he would open my door for me, but he did open it in the end.”

“Please, have a seat, Minerva!” Albus said, gesturing at the sofa. “I will join you.”

Albus sat in the armchair beside the sofa. “How was the meeting?”

So that’s what this was about! “I said that we should wait until tomorrow to discuss the meeting, Albus, and I think – ”

“I think that is a fine idea, as well, my dear. I simply was asking in general terms!” He smiled, eyes twinkling.

“Oh! Oh . . . it was fine.” Minerva was suspicious. Surely he didn’t call her up here just to ask her about the meeting in “general terms.”

“Good! Not too stressful, then? I thought that after your meeting, you might be a little peckish.” Albus made a gesture and a silver-domed plate flew across the room and landed on the low table in front of them. “Now, the Hogwarts house-elves are very accomplished at all types of confections, my dear, but sometimes it is fun to have something a little different . . . and I owe you a dessert from this noon.”

“Don’t be silly, Albus! You don’t owe me anything!”

“Humour me, just this once, Minerva?”

Minerva smiled. “All right – I’ll make an exception, just this once!”

“Go on, you can remove the cover!”

Shaking her head and chuckling, hoping he hadn’t replaced her trifle with yet more trifle, Minerva raised the lid and uncovered a most scrumptious looking torte. It was chocolate, so dark it was almost black, in many thin layers, with different shades of creamy icing between them, one thick layer of cherries and heavy whipped cream in the middle, and more cherries on top. Minerva’s mouth began to water.

“It looks delicious!”

“Try it, my dear! I did not get it for you to admire it from afar!” Albus grinned.

Minerva picked up the single fork. “Albus, you have to eat some of it, too. This is far too much for me, and I can’t just sit here and eat it in front of you.”

Albus did not need any further persuading, and conjured his own fork.

“You first, though,” he said, urging her to try the cake.

Minerva tried to get both cake and some of the cherries onto her fork. Her eyes closed involuntarily as she tasted it. “Mmm. Oh, Albus, this is divine.” The icings were buttery and not too sweet, and the chocolate . . . it must have been Honeydukes finest dark chocolate that had gone into the making of this cake. Some of the layers had been soaked in cherry brandy, as well. All-in-all, eating this torte was a heady experience.

Albus grinned and took a taste for himself. It was very good. Madam Puddifoot herself had recommended this torte, saying there wasn’t a witch in the world who liked chocolate who wouldn’t love it. The witch did have questionable taste in decorating, but her cakes and tarts were quite uniformly good. And her trifle was even better than the Hogwarts house-elves’, and that was saying something.

“Wherever did you get this, Albus?” Minerva asked after her third blissful mouthful of chocolate torte.

“Madam Puddifoot’s. She calls it ‘Deep Chocolate Enthralment.’ It was highly recommended.”

“Mmm. I shall have to rethink my decision not to frequent her establishment. I do believe I am enthralled,” Minerva joked.

Albus called Wilspy and requested a pot of peppermint tea to help wash down their dessert, and the two ate cake and sipped tea in warm, contented silence. The torte was so rich that the two of them had difficulty finishing it, but Albus gamely ate the last bite before leaning back in his chair, sighing happily, and smiling over at Minerva, who had uncharacteristically shed her shoes and curled her feet up under her. He was very glad that she felt so comfortable with him. She spent too much time being sensible, Albus thought, and needed to let herself play more. She had always been that way, though.

“We probably shouldn’t have had such a rich dessert so late at night, Albus, but it was delicious. Thank you!” Minerva set down her teacup. “I enjoyed that . . . but what made you decide to go all the way into Hogsmeade for it?”

Albus chuckled. Sensible Minerva, worrying about eating dessert too late at night! “I popped into Hogsmeade for it because I thought you would enjoy it . . . and I thought it would provide an excuse to spend time with you that didn’t involve any Hogwarts business . . . and I wanted to make sure that you know how much I appreciate you, my dear Minerva.”

Minerva blushed. “Thank you. It was lovely. And I wouldn’t mind other such non-Hogwarts excuses to spend time with me, since you continue to insist that you require one. And I do feel very appreciated.”

“I’m sorry if I was a bit curt with you this afternoon, Minerva. I do appreciate your concern for me, truly, but I just occasionally get a bit . . . crotchety, that’s all.”

Minerva snorted. “Don’t call yourself ‘crotchety,’ Albus – it makes you sound like some doddering, bad-tempered old man, and you’re not that. You were irritable. We all have a right to be irritable at times – although I was offended that you seemed to think I was being patronising. I didn’t intend to be, you know.”

Albus’s lips twitched in amusement. “Very well, my dear. I was ‘irritable.’”

“And I fussed too much . . . but I am still very glad that you will be seeing Poppy in the morning. I just want you to take good care of yourself because I – because I do. That’s all.”

“And I shall. And I shall listen to any recommendations that Poppy may have.”

“Hmpf. I notice you said you will listen to them, not that you will follow them, Albus.” But Minerva smiled.

“Yes, well, I shall do my best, my dear.”

Minerva let out a sigh. “As much as I would love to stay longer and chat, Albus, you had wanted an early night, and it’s already well past time for that.” She stood. “I ought to go. But this was lovely. Thank you!”

“Of course, my dear. Let me walk you back to your rooms.”

Minerva smiled. “No need, Albus.”

“Well, allow me to let you out my backstairs, then. It will be a bit quicker for you . . . .”

Remembering the cramped, narrow stair, Minerva almost refused Albus’s offer, but she felt as though she had gone up and down a thousand stairs that day. It would be easier and faster. “All right . . . that would be nice.”

Albus led Minerva through his bedroom to the old door that led to the hidden Headmaster’s stair. This door apparently didn’t require a password, and Albus opened it to allow Minerva to enter the landing ahead of him, then he closed the door behind them. The old stone landing was dark, one lone torch lighting itself when the Headmaster stepped out; the meagre moonlight coming through the narrow slits in the outer wall provided little illumination. Minerva suppressed a shudder. She was with Albus Dumbledore – and in the middle of Hogwarts – she couldn’t be safer, Minerva told herself.

Albus turned to the old, scarred oak door, placed his hand on it, and said, “Peppermint Pillows.” The door glowed briefly, then swung open. The torches on either side of the stairs sprang to life.

“I need to go ahead of you again, Minerva, so that I may open the door at the bottom.”

“You know, Albus, I can just take the normal way – no need for you to go to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all, none at all.” Albus looked closely at her. “Nervous, Minerva?”

“Just a little.” Minerva was embarrassed to admit it. She was a grown witch! “Just a bit . . . claustrophobic, that’s all. I was thinking . . . in my Animagus form . . .”

“Mmm. Why don’t we try this? If you become too uncomfortable, you can pop right into your little tabby self, and I’ll give you a lift the rest of the way. But give it a go in your ordinary form first. You can place your hand on my shoulder. I’ll be right there ahead of you the whole way, my dear.” He smiled at her, and the torchlight flickered against his glasses. “Don’t hesitate to say if you want to stop a moment or if you want to transform, though. I don’t want you to make yourself ill after that lovely torte!”

Minerva gave a half-smile and said ruefully, “You must think me very foolish, Albus.”

“No, not in the slightest. I had some trouble with closed spaces, myself, after that business in France. It doesn’t matter what our head tells us when every sensation we have is telling us that the walls are closing in, the air’s too heavy, and such. So I understand.”

“You got over it?” Minerva asked.

“Mmhm. The business with Grindelwald a few months later gave me some rather different things to replace it with!” His voice was cheery, but Minerva ached in sympathy for whatever it was he had gone through . . . it must have been terrible, indeed.

“All right, Albus. I’m ready,” Minerva said, summoning her Gryffindor courage and inspired by Albus’s own example.

They started down the stairs, Minerva placing a tentative hand on Albus’s shoulder. Albus had left the door open behind them, and Minerva wasn’t sure whether that was better or worse than having it closed. While it opened an avenue of escape, she could feel a slight draft coming from above, and she had the irrational fear that something could surprise them from behind, and she told this to Albus.

He paused and turned on the stair, looking up into Minerva’s face. “Nothing will harm you here, Minerva,” Albus reassured her quietly. He raised a hand and caressed her arm lightly. “You will be fine. We are halfway to the seventh floor, but if you’d like to enter your Animagus form now, that would be fine with me – and you can either follow me, or I can carry you, if you prefer that.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I just thought I’d mention it. It doesn’t seem as scary now that I’ve told you.” Minerva tried to smile.

Albus nodded slightly, and the two continued down the stairs, Minerva trying not to grip his shoulder too tightly and reminding herself that she was able to breathe perfectly well. Beneath her hand, Minerva could feel the soft thrumming of Albus’s magical core, like gently lapping waves. By the time they reached the great oak door at the bottom of the steps, Minerva actually felt more like herself, but she didn’t remove her hand from Albus’s shoulder even as he opened the door.

Albus placed his hand on age-darkened oak and uttered the password. The door glowed briefly, then the narrow side corridor stretched before them. Torches lit themselves as Albus led Minerva from the stairway into the hall. Her hand slipped from his shoulder to his elbow, and, although it wasn’t strictly necessary, she held his arm as they walked down the hall to the main seventh floor corridor.

When they reached the end, Albus asked warmly, “All right, my dear?”

Minerva smiled up at him. “Very! Thank you, Albus.”

“I didn’t want to force you to do anything if it were too difficult for you, but I think I know you, Minerva, and what you are capable of. I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

“No, it wasn’t; it really was all right. Thank you.”

Albus’s eyes smiled down at her, and he said softly. “I am always very happy to escort a beautiful witch, Minerva, through dark places or light. I will see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Minerva was glad of the flickering torchlight, for she was entirely unable to suppress her blush of pleasure. “Good night, Albus.”

“Good night, my dear.” His voice came out in a whisper.

Albus raised her hand to his lips without taking his eyes from her face, and Minerva’s breath caught. It must be the torchlight, she thought, but his expression . . . it seemed almost a reflection of her own feelings. But then he turned and was gone down the narrow corridor, headed away from her in a flurry of rose and gold, back to the secret stair, and Minerva numbly made her way to the well-lit, broad staircases that would bring her to the fourth floor and her own rooms.

---

Hope this unexpected update pleased!

[Hogwarts Duo]

Oh I am soooooo happy that you updated. I am jumping up and down for sheer job and excitement!!! ;D

Albus’ dream sounded absolutely lovely. I do hope it was more of a premonition than an actual dream though. That sounds like a lovely shippy moment between our dear ADMM and too good not to write into such a wonderful story…wink wink!!

I am very happy to see that Albus realized the error of his ways in being so curt with Minerva when she was only trying to help. And for him to ask Poppy about checking him in front of Minerva was a very smart move on his part, showing that he was taking her advice seriously. And then when Minerva patted him on the leg….wheeeeee. That was a wonderful way of showing she’d forgiven him for being grumpy.

The late night dessert between Albus and Minerva was wonderful. I love it when Albus feels he’s done something wrong and tries to make it up to her. No matter what he does it comes across as so romantic and tender. Awwwwww. And he does have impeccable taste in desserts…yumm. How cute that he still believes he needs an excuse to see Minerva though. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind seeing him day or night…

The way you ended this chapter was so perfect. The way Albus tenderly guided Minerva down the stairs, her recognizing his magic pulsing, even the way he softly spoke to her then kissed her hand…dreamy sigh. That would have been the PERFECT OPPORTUNITY for a real kiss but alas, we’re not so fortunate.

Looking forward to more shippy chapters in the future!!! Enjoy your trip!

GLM

[dianahawthorne]

ooh...another great update!!! Fabulous chapter- I loved the description you put into them coming down the stairs. Can't wait for the next chapter!!!

[sevherfan]

Oh that was perfect. And it was so funny that I checked right before I was going out - "She went on vacation, it is useless to refresh... this is a waste of time... ohhhh ahhh UPDATE!"

After the moment on the stairs where he turned around I was convinced he would lean in for a goodnight kiss on the cheek to mirror her earlier actions. And since she has been very ... Gryffindor-ish today she might make it into more. It would have been perfect timing, like Hogwarts Duo said. Ah well, I can wait some more chapters for the real thing.

Again, this is a great chapter to leave us with, very rereadable! Lots of amazing little moments!

[esoterica1693]

What a bit of inspiration to take her the back way. I bet he desperately wanted to snog her then and there on those dark isolated back stairs, like a teenager. I wonder if she hadn't been quite as vulnerable might he have? Or was her bravery and honesty in showing her vulnerability what made him desire her all the more...

I, like Minerva, feel deeply for Albus WRT whatever happened w/ Grindelwald and want to know more. Poor Albus! Hopefully we'll get to see Minerva comfort him at some point--maybe during a nightmare? (I am such a fan of existential angst, inner torment, etc...so long as it's characters on a page.... :-)

[MMADfan]

Note: One last chapter before I leave. (My loss is your gain, I suppose!) Hope you enjoy it!

Too long for one post, so it's in two parts.

XCI: A Date for Minerva

As Albus readied himself for sleep that night, he kept remembering Minerva’s hand on his shoulder, how her little bright ripples of magic tickled against his, but they were steady and she was steady. She was so lovely standing there on the stair, bravely facing her claustrophobia with her eyes wide open, her skin flushed from the torch light, her black hair reflecting dark reddish highlights that were so difficult to see under ordinary light, and her eyes darkening with the shadows around them. Minerva.

Minerva. Albus lay in bed and thought of Minerva. Of the dream he’d had earlier of Minerva kissing him on the warm cliffs, of the Minerva who called him awake, who opened his windows and draperies by hand, and who, with one slight smile and a light pat on the knee, could unwind the tight knot in his chest that he hadn’t know was there until it was released. Minerva, who followed him confidently. Minerva, who shared chocolate cake with him and who wiped a bit of cream from his beard. Minerva, who cared about him and wanted him to take care of himself.

Albus stretched under the covers. The windows were still open from earlier. He normally slept with them closed, but the breeze was cool and gentle and reminded him of Minerva. He was glad he had brought Minerva down the back steps, and not only because it helped her learn to cope with claustrophobia, but because he had enjoyed helping her overcome it. As he began to drift asleep, he remembered the faithful confidence with which Minerva looked at him, heedless of her own fear. Her hand rested on his shoulder, then, when they reached the base of the stairs, she slid her hand down his arm and had settled at his elbow. The narrow hallway had never seemed as short as it did that evening when he had to take his leave of her. Minerva’s expression as he kissed her hand seemed, in the torchlight, to mirror his own feelings for her. How he had wanted to lean forward and kiss her! But he hadn’t wanted to spoil perfection, and so he bade her good night and raced back to his quarters. There was no point in berating himself about it. She had seemed . . . pleased with his company, after all. He would continue to restrain himself slightly, of course, but Albus decided that it was much easier to behave normally around her if he . . . acted normally.

Perhaps it would be easier for him to behave normally if he knew she was involved with someone, he thought. It would put her in the category “off limits,” and perhaps his attraction might subside some. Albus doubted it would disappear entirely, Minerva was so absolutely wonderful, but it might help him interact with her more easily. And she wouldn’t misread his intentions – well, she wouldn’t accurately read his intentions, to be more precise – if he made a few minor slips occasionally. After all, she wouldn’t dream he would have any intentions toward her if she were involved with someone else.

He had laid such hopes that Quin might be a suitable beau, but whenever he brought up his name, Minerva was quite adamant that she wasn’t interested in him and he wasn’t interested in her. Of course, Albus could scarcely imagine that an obviously vigorous young wizard such as Quin wouldn’t find Minerva attractive, but perhaps they were temperamentally unsuited. It could be that Minerva might find a more . . . intellectually inclined wizard attractive. Not that Quin had ever struck him as anything less than intelligent, but he wasn’t the academic sort, either. Albus cast his mind about for an intellectual wizard whom Minerva might find compatible. Slughorn . . . well, aside from the fact that Horace had been Minerva’s teacher, Albus had always had the impression that Minerva didn’t particularly like the Potions Master. Birnbaum was a good man, solid, intelligent . . . but he was going to be leaving for Germany at the end of the next year. Of course, that might be attractive to Minerva; she spoke German and had enjoyed her time there during her apprenticeship. Still, he wasn’t particularly academic, but more the hands-on type. Herder was brilliant, but introverted and somewhat dour. He kept odd hours, too. Which was to be expected of an astronomer, Albus supposed. Pretnick might have been a candidate, but with his current problem . . . the adjustment to his new life would take all of his energy right now.

Ah-ha! Flitwick! Oh, Filius might be just perfect for her. Of course, he was a tad shorter than Minerva . . . well, more than a tad, but Minerva probably wouldn’t mind that. Filius was certainly intellectual, as well as out-going and cheerful. And he liked music and could escort Minerva to concerts. He could be quite a bit of fun for Minerva. He was older than she . . . by more than a few years. But he was younger than Minerva’s father by at least a little, Albus thought, so that was all right. And Filius couldn’t be luckier than to have a witch such as Minerva by his side. Now . . . how to get the two of them together, just to get things off to a start . . . .

Albus ignored the slight pang in his heart and fell asleep thinking of various ways he could encourage his two friends to begin seeing each other . . . but his dreams that night were only of Minerva, Filius never making even a cameo appearance. . . .

---

Minerva got ready for bed, still in something of a daze. How could a simple hand kiss, a mere look, an ordinary “good night,” put her in such a state? Hopefully Albus hadn’t noticed; he was surely gone too quickly to have observed her racing pulse, her inability to breathe, her flushed cheeks . . . if he had, she hoped he put it down to her claustrophobia.

Opening her window to let in the night air, Minerva remembered opening Albus’s windows that afternoon. It was good of him to have apologised for not taking her concern for his health in the spirit in which she had meant it, but she had long forgiven him his slight irritability. It was understandable that, after sleeping in a warm room in the middle of the day, as well as being over-tired, Albus might be a little cranky. And if you couldn’t be cranky with your friends, who could you be cranky with? He did seem to be somewhat sensitive about his age, though. Hardly a characteristic that she associated with Albus Dumbledore. And yet he could joke about being cantankerous. It was odd. . . .

Minerva slipped between her sheets. The last week had been surprisingly eventful. She had thought that now that school was out, her days would stretch before her pleasantly but lazily. That certainly had not turned out to be the case. It seemed that from the moment she had tried to meet Albus to discuss the NEWT-level curriculum, it had been one thing after another. From her embarrassing rant in Poppy’s office and dinner with Albus the previous Friday to this evening’s late-night dessert with him, Minerva felt as though far more time had passed than just a little over a week.

She believed that she and Albus were growing closer, although she thought she had to learn to take his occasional peculiar moods more in stride. Minerva had never thought of him as the moody sort before this, but perhaps she simply hadn’t been in a position to notice. He had always been slightly absent-minded or distracted when he was working on a problem or deeply absorbed in thought, but this seemed to be more than just being somewhat distracted. It seemed that it had started after she had returned from the Gamps. It could be that it all had to do with his reluctance to talk about Valerianna, Minerva supposed. She could understand that – she would be embarrassed to have dated a witch like her. If she were a wizard, of course. And then to have walked in on her and some other wizard in your own cottage . . . being cuckolded right under your nose and having your friends and colleagues knowing about it couldn’t have been pleasant. Especially when you were commonly known for your intelligence and magical power. Albus was a generally modest and unassuming wizard, but it couldn’t have been easy for him to have looked foolish in front of so many people. Poppy was right: it was good that Gertrude and her co-conspirators had acted when they did, or Valerianna’s shenanigans would have become even more widely known, perhaps even been reported on in the Prophet.

Minerva didn’t know what was wrong with Valerianna. Why would she have been catting around with other wizards when she had Albus’s attentions? One look from him, one murmured “good night,” one brush of his lips on her hand, and she was practically in a swoon, and Minerva didn’t think of herself as the swooning type. How could Valerianna not have appreciated Albus? Minerva was very glad she hadn’t, though – she hated the thought of Albus with anyone else, but the thought of him with a witch so beneath him as Valerianna – that was unbearable. No, she’d rather he were with Gertrude. Albus likely was looking for someone with more wit and glamour, than Gertrude, though, based on his choice of Valerianna.

Minerva sighed and rolled over. For all she knew, he and Gertrude were a couple, and were just keeping under wraps, just as Wilhemina and Hagrid had done with their relationship. Perhaps that was why he chose her as his Deputy despite the fact that she wasn’t a Head of House. Minerva had never heard of such a thing before.

But Albus wouldn’t walk Gertrude down his secret backstairs. His spiral staircase would dump her right on the second floor where her rooms were, after all. But Albus had walked her down the narrow, worn, stone stairs, letting her hold onto him the whole way down. And then he had walked her down the hallway and kissed her hand. He had looked so handsome in the flickering flames of torches, his rose and gold robes heightening the colour in his cheeks. . . .

Minerva fell asleep with Albus’s face before her, remembering the feel of his warm lips just barely brushing her skin, and she smiled as she slept.

---

“So, what’s the verdict, Madam Pomfrey? Did I pick up some strange and exotic illness while I was at St. Mungo’s the other day?”

Poppy laughed. “No, you’re perfectly healthy, Professor, if a little rundown. I wouldn’t notice it in anyone else, but your magical levels are a bit lower than usual. I think you just need more sleep and to watch your diet. More veg and fruit, for you. And,” she said, waving her wand in an Accio, Summoning a large brown bottle, “this vitamin potion, since you do insist on overdoing it.”

“Oh, not a vitamin potion!” Albus made a face.

“It’s flavoured, Professor – not like the stuff your mum probably forced down your throat.”

“My ‘mum’ was a Muggle-born – it was cod liver oil from her. It was my Aunt Sarah who forced the vitamin potion down my throat. And both of them dreadful.” Albus shuddered.

“Mmm, well, this is better. Lemon-lime flavoured. I can do grape for you next time, if you prefer, but I’m out of grape at the moment. It’s on my inventory list to restock. One teaspoon before bed. Let it work while you sleep.”

“All right. . . .” Albus sighed with a rueful smile. “Perhaps I am entering my second childhood, then. Naps in the afternoon, vitamin potion at night. Next thing you know, and I’ll be having cambric tea and toast for my supper!”

Poppy laughed even harder at that. “Oh, my, Professor! I may not know a more youthful or childlike wizard than you, but I would never say you’re entering your second childhood! More like that you never truly left your first one behind entirely.” Poppy looked at her old teacher with a fond smile. “And knowing how hard you work, that is not a bad thing. A certain witch I know could learn a thing or two about lightening up and having fun. I’m always trying to get her to loosen up some. She was old before she was young, I always tell her! Say . . . while she’s here in the castle this summer, you could look after her for me – make sure she has a bit of fun.”

Albus raised his eyebrows. “Of whom do you speak?”

“Why, of Minerva, of course!”

Albus chuckled. “Yes, she can be quite the serious, sensible one, but I’ve known her to have fun, too.”

“Well, there, you see! That’s perfect. You have the ability to get her to lighten up and have fun, and she might be able to get you to get enough rest and take your vitamin potion. It’s perfect, if you ask me. Now run along, get your work done now so you aren’t up half the night with it – I know you, Albus! I need to be getting ready to go to my gran’s – and as she would say, you should make hay while sun shines!”

Albus laughed good-naturedly and let himself be shooed from the infirmary by the young witch. Now to find Minerva and go over what had transpired at the meeting. And maybe get her to “lighten up,” as Poppy suggested. Funny witch, Poppy. Always had been a warm-hearted girl; it hadn’t surprised him a bit when she went into training at St. Mungo’s.

He had made the perfect plans for Minerva for that evening. Well, ostensibly, they were for Filius. But they were really for Minerva. To make her happy! Dinner reservations for two at Delancie’s for her and her new colleague. She and Filius were in for a real treat. Everything was to go on his account, and he’d made it quite clear to Mr Delancie that the two were to want for nothing. No prices on the menu. Whatever they wanted, they were to have. Yes, Minerva would have a good time that evening. And Filius would be the envy of every wizard who saw them together.

Albus smiled wistfully. He wished it were he who was bringing her to dinner that evening . . . but she would have a fine time with Filius. And if they hit it off, so much the better. No better place for a first date than Delancie’s, either. It was romantic . . . posh . . . perfect food, perfect service. Albus sighed as he reached Minerva’s rooms and waited for the Silent Knight to announce him. He could faintly hear Fidelio barking within, and the Knight creaked back into his portrait and bowed before Minerva opened the door.

“Albus!” Minerva smiled. “I wasn’t expecting you – I thought you’d owl, or send an elf, or something – come in, come in!”

“Thank you, my dear. I hope I have not arrived at a bad time?”

“Not at all. I just got back from my morning walk.” Minerva laughed. “Part of my plans for my self-improvement this summer. A walk every morning either before or after breakfast.” Minerva showed Albus in and gestured for him to have a seat on the sofa. “Perhaps you might like to join me occasionally?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes, I might,” Albus said with a grin. “I’ve just come from Poppy, and I believe she would approve of it for both of us.”

“What?” Minerva was puzzled.

“I’m supposed to take better care of myself and you’re supposed to have more fun. It sounds as though morning walks would fill the bill on both scores!”

“So . . . how are you, Albus? I mean, not generally, what did Poppy say?”

“Just that – that I should take better care of myself. Get more sleep. Eat my veg. She sounded more like my mother than the Hogwarts matron. But you will be happy to know there is nothing wrong with me. No exotic bugs picked up at St. Mungo’s. I’ll just have to stop burning the midnight oil so frequently. And,” Albus said, pulling the large brown bottle from the pocket of his robes, “she gave me this. Vitamin potion.” He made a face.

“Oh! That’s one of Murdoch’s, I think,” Minerva said, looking at the label and smiling. “Is it the grape, the cherry, or the citrus one? You needn’t make that face, Albus! He has to put a child-proof charm on the bottles so the kiddies don’t try to down an entire bottle at once. Melina was his tester, and she is very finicky. He never was able to develop a chocolate-flavoured one that she would approve of, hence, no chocolate vitamin potion!”

“Poppy said it was lemon-lime. You’ve had it, then? Not too foul?”

“Not foul at all. And I assume that she told you to take it at night before bed, not in the morning? Yes, that’s Murdoch’s special formula, then. Um, Albus, did Poppy mention anything else about the potion?”

“No, just to take it at night . . . yes, that was all she said,” Albus said after reflecting on it.

“Well, when you first get up in the morning, there may be a bit of a surprise.”

Albus raised his eyebrows. “A good surprise or a bad surprise?”

“Neither . . .” Minerva blushed. “It’s just that there’s a slight side-effect that Murdoch was never able to get rid of . . . it’s not dangerous, and it fades with time. By the second week of taking it, you’ll be back to normal.”

“I don’t know if I like the sound of this,” Albus said.

“You’ll pee bright purple. Then it goes lilac.” Minerva was bright red. “Then it fades completely. Perfectly harmless. It’s whatever it is he puts in it to help you assimilate the nutrients overnight. It interacts with something else. I never felt compelled to understand it, and Potions was never my forté, so I can’t say precisely what it is. But it is perfectly harmless. Only a little alarming the first time. And your body gets used to it and it stops.”

Albus laughed. “Thank you for the warning, Minerva! That might be a peculiar thing to wake up to, indeed!”

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you are well – and happy that someone with more authority than I was able to tell you not to work so hard.”

“She didn’t say that precisely. She did say to make hay while the sun shines. So I will work hard while conditions are right for it and try not to burn the candle at both ends anymore.”

“Good! I am happy to hear it. But I assume that you are here to discuss yesterday’s committee meeting, not to talk about the state of your blooming good health.”

Minerva told Albus about the meeting and gave him a parchment with a concise summary of the discussion. “For your records, Albus. Is there anything else?”

“Thank you, my dear.” Albus hesitated. “You know, Minerva . . . no, no, I can’t ask this of you. You are already doing so much. . . .”

“What is it, Albus? I am happy to help out, you know that.”

“Well, it’s just that I would like to bring Filius out to dinner tonight – I even made reservations for this evening – but it turns out I can’t. Gertrude has gone back home, or I might ask her. I would just like Filius to feel welcomed properly. And I am afraid that it might look as though I am trying to improperly influence him if I were to bring him out to dinner the night before your next meeting. Of course, we can do a little something for him at the end of August before school begins, but he is taking his own time to be here in the middle of the summer . . . .”

“I would be happy to take Filius to dinner tonight, if you like. Where are the reservations?” Minerva asked, thinking of the Three Broomsticks or perhaps Madam Puddifoot’s, although she didn’t think Puddifoot did anything suitable for dinner.

“Delancie’s in Diagon Alley.”

“Delancie’s? That’s rather . . . posh.” Minerva didn’t want to use the word “expensive,” but that’s what she was thinking.

“Yes, well, I thought . . . the best, you know. And you needn’t worry about paying. It’s all going on account. Just go, and you two enjoy yourselves!” Albus felt a pang. Especially now that he was sitting there with Minerva, he wished it were he who was accompanying her to dinner. Dinner anywhere. Plaice and chips eaten from a Muggle newspaper, sitting on a park bench . . . . But it was too late now. And it was for his own good. If Filius and Minerva hit it off, it would help him to rein in his inappropriate feelings, he was sure of it.

“All right, Albus. It does seem a bit . . . extravagant, though,” she said, thinking that, other than Poppy’s “housewarming,” she hadn’t had much of a welcome. But she had arrived in the middle of the school year, after all.

“Well, as I said, he has come all the way from Provence, interrupting his holiday, and he’s not even on staff yet.”

“Do you do that for all your new staff members, Albus?” Minerva asked.

“Goodness, no.” And it suddenly occurred to him why she had asked – he had not brought her out to dinner when she started at the school. Indeed, he had left her waiting in the snow at the gates for a half an hour. “It’s just a way to thank him for his extra effort, that’s all. And I hope you enjoy yourself, too, Minerva.” He wished he could be there . . . she would no doubt put on her finer robes, take time with her hair, and look her loveliest.

“Well, I’m sure Professor Flitwick would enjoy your company more than mine, but I will do my best. You know, if it turns out you are available for dinner, you could come with us. Couldn’t you?”

“Perhaps, my dear, perhaps. Thank you for doing this for me. I think you will like Filius. He is a delightful person.” And he might be able to make you happy, Albus added to himself. And that thought brought a now-familiar pang to his heart. But he fixed a smile on his face and thanked Minerva again before taking his leave. He had work to do before lunch, then he planned on visiting Robert in hospital again. If it weren’t for his duties calling, he would have preferred to spend time with Minerva. He was half way out the door when she called behind him.

“Albus, don’t forget your vitamin potion!” She handed him the bottle with a smile.

“Ah, yes! Madam Pomfrey would be most displeased if I were to start out disobeying her orders right from the first day! Thank you, my dear. I hope you have a pleasant day – and evening!”

“And you, Albus.”

---

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

XCI: A Date for Minerva, continued

At ten o’clock that night, Albus felt the slight tingle that indicated that someone had given the password to the gargoyle and was coming up to his office. He had already put on his nightshirt and dressing gown and was drinking chamomile tea in his sitting room, about to settle down with a book. His mind had been distracted that whole evening, wondering how Minerva and Filius’s date was going. Of course, neither of them knew that it was a date, but a witch and wizard could scarcely have dinner at Delancie’s and not have it be a date, in his opinion. Not if the witch was even half as enticing as Minerva.

Albus set his cup and saucer down and went down to his office to wait for his late-night visitor. He was only slightly surprised when he opened the door to see Minerva standing there in her dress robes, looking quite lovely.

“Hello, Albus! Oh, you’re ready for bed! I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just thought you’d like to know that Filius and I went to dinner and it was very nice.”

“You’re back early, Minerva.”

“Well, the reservations were for seven. We ate. We talked. We strolled down Diagon Alley. We returned to Hogwarts. He is a very sweet wizard, you were right, Albus.” Minerva was glowing.

Inexplicably, Albus’s heart sank. She had enjoyed herself.

“You know, Albus, I think we should try to set him up with someone. Do you know – well, of course, you do, but I didn’t – he’s been a widower for twenty years! There must be some nice witch out there for him. I thought of Poppy, but I don’t know if he’s quite her type . . . and I don’t know him well enough to know his type.” Minerva flopped into one of the armchairs. “Oh, but I did eat too much, Albus! I hadn’t been to Delancie’s in a few years. I’d forgotten how good the food is! I only remembered the prices,” she said with a grin. “But we had the most peculiar menus. No prices on either of them. So let me know if I went over-budget, Albus, and I’ll repay it.”

“Oh, no, my dear! I asked that you have the witches’ menus. Well, that’s what they used to call them – I didn’t want either of you to think about the prices. I wanted you to order whatever you wanted.”

Minerva sighed. “Well, that we did. Thank you, Albus. It was lovely. The only thing that would have made it more lovely is if you had been there.” She smiled warmly.

Albus’s cheeks went pink. “That’s kind of you – but didn’t you have a good time with Filius?”

“Of course I did! You don’t think I’d consider setting him up with one of my friends if I hadn’t, do you? He is thoroughly sweet, very amusing, quite knowledgeable on many subjects. A generally delightful dinner companion. But he’s not you.” Minerva grinned. “I’m sorry, Albus. I’m afraid I didn’t only eat too much. We both had a little too much to drink. We had to Flee, I mean Floo, back from the Leaky Cauldron.” Minerva giggled. “We Flooed to the Hog’s Head. He thought it would be fun to have a nightcap there before we came back to the castle. We made quite an impression!”

“I’m sure you did!” Albus said, thinking of the seedy pub and the normal attire of the usual clientele. Minerva looked beautiful in her bright green summer robes. He saw now that her flush was probably due to the wine and whatever other spirits she had imbibed, and not simply from the pleasure of Filius’s company. “You look very beautiful tonight, Minerva. I am sure there wasn’t a wizard there who could tear his eyes from you.”

Minerva giggled again. “Filius was quite funny. He told me he was a duellist and would defend my honour if anyone accosted me . . . once he wasn’t drunk! Of course, he wasn’t really drunk, only a bit tipsy. For such a little fellow, he can hold his liquor. I just had a small gilly water at the Hog’s Head – I was surprised they even had that – but he had a double fire whisky. And this after splitting a bottle of wine with me and having two brandies, as well.” Minerva sighed and stretched, catlike. “I can’t imagine where he puts it!”

Albus averted his eyes; her stretch was far too . . . sensual. “You know, I was having some tea – chamomile tea – upstairs. Would you like to join me? You look as though you could use something nonalcoholic, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Albus smiled at Minerva, amused by her attempt to sit up straight and look sober.

“That would be very nice! But,” Minerva said, hesitating and knitting her brow seriously, “I shouldn’t keep you up. You are not supposed to be burning the midnight oil, after all.”

“It’s far from midnight, Minerva, and spending time with you is far from work.”

“All right!” Minerva popped up from the chair with as much energy as she had shown lassitude in her languid stretch a moment ago, and they started over to the stairs.

Albus chuckled. “So, you had a nice time.”

“Mmhm. We should go sometime, Albus. They have trifle!” she announced.

“Do they, indeed?” Albus replied, humouring her. “And did you have the trifle, my dear?”

“No, no.” She stopped on the sixth step up and tapped it with her toe. “This is the naughty step! Dumped me right on your floor!”

“Yes, but it won’t ever again, Minerva. Come on up and we’ll have that tea, hmm?”

“Someone should have warned me, Albus. It wasn’t very nice.” She shook her head seriously.

“No, you’re right, it wasn’t very nice. I am sorry, my dear.” He took her arm and escorted her the rest of the way up the spiral brass stairs.

“I had a fruit torte. Berries. Very good berries.”

“Ah! I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She was back on the dessert again. “Here, have a seat, Minerva. I will fetch us some fresh tea.”

Albus called Wilspy and asked for a fresh pot of chamomile tea and another cup for Minerva.

“I hope Blampa doesn’t make her send ginger newts. I don’t think I could eat another bite.” She leaned her head back. “I’m sleepy, too, Albus.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, it’s a good time of night to be sleepy, I suppose. Here, have your tea, my dear,” Albus said gently and handed her a cup.

“Thank you.” She took a sip. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit silly tonight, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine! Poppy was just saying this morning that you need to have more fun.”

“Did she? I’ll have to bring her someplace boring for her birthday dinner, then.” Minerva laughed. “I’ll bring her to the Hog’s Head! It’s not boring, but it certainly would be unexpected!”

Albus laughed along with her. “I don’t know if they could survive your presence twice in one week, though, Minerva.” He looked at her with a bright smile in his eyes. “So, Filius enjoyed himself, as well?”

“Yes, I think so. I left him at his rooms. There are too many stairs in this castle on some days, Albus.”

“You didn’t need to come see me, Minerva; you could have gone straight back to your rooms.”

“Oh. Do you want me to leave?”

“No, not at all! I am very glad you came by, I’m just saying you didn’t need to feel obligated.”

“I didn’t. I wanted to see you.” She looked at him and sighed, smiling. “It was a good idea. . . .”

“Yes, it was.” Albus smiled. “More tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Albus poured her another cup of tea and asked her about what she and Filius had talked about during dinner. Minerva leaned back, sipped her tea, and told Albus all about the dinner and their conversation and the people they had seen in the restaurant and on the street.

After her third cup of tea, a more sober Minerva said, “It’s getting late now, Albus. I should leave you to get a good night’s rest.” She set her cup down and pushed up from the sofa, standing.

Albus stood, as well. “Would you like to go down the back way again, my dear?”

Minerva hesitated. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all.”

Again, Albus led Minerva through his bedroom to the backstair and opened the doors for her. As they started down the worn stone stairs, the torchlight flickering around them, Minerva asked tentatively, “Do you mind if I . . .” Her hand hovered in front of her as Albus turned his head and looked up at her.

“Please, feel free . . . I don’t want you to stumble or to feel nervous.”

Minerva rested her hand on his shoulder and let out a small, happy sigh. He was warm and comforting. She could feel his shoulder through his lightweight nightshirt and dressing gown. They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Albus opened the door for them. He turned and looked up at Minerva where she stood on the second step. He held out a hand to her.

“How was that, Minerva?”

“Better than last time. But it’s reassuring to have you there.” She smiled and took his hand.

“I’ll walk you back to your rooms.” He held up his other hand. “No, no protests tonight. I am confident you could make it back quite safely and securely on your own. But I would like to see you to your door.”

Minerva nodded. “All right, Albus. Thank you!”

Albus slipped Minerva’s hand to his elbow and patted it. “Good . . . good.”

He led her down the side corridor then to the main staircase down to the fourth floor. They didn’t speak, but just walked in comfortable silence until they reached the portrait of the Silent Knight.

“Good night, my dear Minerva!”

“Good night, Albus. Thank you for the tea – and don’t forget to take your vitamin potion tonight!”

“I will take it as soon as I return. I promise.” Albus looked down at Minerva and smiled. “Sleep well.”

“You do the same.” She gave her password to the portrait. “Alvarium album.” The door clicked open.

Albus leaned forward just a little and bent his head, placing a light kiss on Minerva’s cheek. “Good night,” he whispered, his breath warm on her face.

Then Albus was gone, and Minerva stepped into her sitting room, her cheek still tingling from his kiss.

---

Bye, all! Hope you enjoyed this -- I'll be back in a week or so!

[Lady Lavendar]

I love this story!! These two are just amking me frustrated! I can't believe Albus though!! Setting her up with Filtwick!?! The end where he kissed her cheek made it worth it though. We're making progress in this relationship! I just wish they would get on with it already!

[Jessabelle]

So, Albus has now escorted Minerva to her rooms twice. The first time he kissed her hand and the second time, her cheek! Prehaps the third time's a charm? Please let there be a real kiss soon!
As always, excellent work. The progress these two are making together is quite sweet to watch. However, I do wish they would speed it up!
- Jess

[twinkle]

Yep, I can only agree with Jessabelle. Those two are veeeeery slow, but very sweet nevertheless. And a tipsy Minerva coming up to make sure Albus takes his potion and informing him that they should set Filius up with someone was great!
I like those backstairs very much. Pleeeease let them go down this way at least another time ;o))

I'm already longing for you to come back!!!

[Hogwarts Duo]

What a “SQUEEEEE” worthy chapter. There are so many delicious moments in this chapter that I’m at a loss as to where to begin!

I was so happy that we were given a glimpse into both Albus and Minerva’s thoughts on him walking her down the stairs and the kiss to the back of her hand. I absolutely loved it when he began to think on all the wonderful things she’d done for him and how much care she took to see that his needs were met as best she could given the circumstances.

Purple pee??? I got quite a good laugh out of that and then I realized that Albus would probably think that a cool side effect since we always tend to write his favorite color as being purple. That’s just too funny and I’d love to have seen Minerva’s face when she told him. PRICELESS!!!

I almost had to get upset with Albus for arranging the dinner with Flitwick. I was not a happy camper but then when Minerva went to Albus’ rooms as soon as she returned and put his mind at ease about her dinner with Filius I was all happy again. I love to see a tipsy Minerva if she’s written well and you did a fantastic job. The way she made little comments that made him blush was fantastic and so subtle. Another one of your more brilliant ideas!!! ;D

And don’t think I didn’t notice that this was the first time he’d walked her all the way to her rooms and then kissed her cheek before leaving. That bit left me with a warm fuzzy feeling and I do believe our dear couple is making some great strides towards revealing their shared love…awwwwwww.

Thanks for the update and I hope you have a great trip!

TTFN,
GLM

[MMADfan]

twinkle said:

Yep, I can only agree with Jessabelle. Those two are veeeeery slow, but very sweet nevertheless. And a tipsy Minerva coming up to make sure Albus takes his potion and informing him that they should set Filius up with someone was great!
I like those backstairs very much. Pleeeease let them go down this way at least another time ;o))

I'm already longing for you to come back!!!

It sounds as though you may be enjoying the story, but that it may be frustrating for you, as well. When the story is complete, I will edit the subject line to include the word "COMPLETE," so you'll know when it's finished, and if people want to, they come back and read it all at once, if they prefer. I love reviews and like knowing that people are enjoying the story, and "reviews feed the muse," and all that, but I really do want to feel that people are enjoying it and not merely enduring it and feeling frustrated while waiting for the end. I don't want to torture folks!

This is a very long story that covers twenty years of Minerva and Albus's relationship, from 1937 - 1957, that has been outlined, given a timeline -- which goes from 1840 to 1957 -- and has had character profiles worked up for it. I have used actual lunar calendars, calendars from 1937 through 1957, research on Churchill and the Blitz, and tried to stick close to HP canon insofar as possible. I could just skip to the end of the story , but then everything I've written so far would be for nothing. This is intended to be a story that takes a while to tell.

I, too, love short, fluffy ADMM romances that are only a few to several chapters long; this was never intended to be that. It's a matter of taste whether someone likes this sort of long, dramatic romance or not, and I don't expect everyone to enjoy it, but the story is intended to go into great detail about the weeks leading up to Albus and Minerva getting together, with a lot of character development and plot twists -- otherwise, I'd just post my outline and not bother with the story-telling. ;D

And it has been less than two weeks since Minerva's rant in Poppy's office, after all. And they aren't teenagers who are going to satisfy their hormones and then break up in a couple months -- I hope not, at least, after all the trouble it's taking to get them together! LOL! ;D

Anyway, there is still a lot of story to go. I know this pleases some people who never want it to end (I couldn't bear to write this forever, though -- haha!), but it may frustrate others who prefer shorter, faster paced stories. I can only do the best I can to make each chapter enjoyable and bring us further along in the story till we finally get to the climax.

hogwartsduo said:

What a “SQUEEEEE” worthy chapter. There are so many delicious moments in this chapter that I’m at a loss as to where to begin!

I was so happy that we were given a glimpse into both Albus and Minerva’s thoughts on him walking her down the stairs and the kiss to the back of her hand. I absolutely loved it when he began to think on all the wonderful things she’d done for him and how much care she took to see that his needs were met as best she could given the circumstances.

Purple pee??? I got quite a good laugh out of that and then I realized that Albus would probably think that a cool side effect since we always tend to write his favorite color as being purple. That’s just too funny and I’d love to have seen Minerva’s face when she told him. PRICELESS!!!

I almost had to get upset with Albus for arranging the dinner with Flitwick. I was not a happy camper but then when Minerva went to Albus’ rooms as soon as she returned and put his mind at ease about her dinner with Filius I was all happy again. I love to see a tipsy Minerva if she’s written well and you did a fantastic job. The way she made little comments that made him blush was fantastic and so subtle. Another one of your more brilliant ideas!!! ;D

And don’t think I didn’t notice that this was the first time he’d walked her all the way to her rooms and then kissed her cheek before leaving. That bit left me with a warm fuzzy feeling and I do believe our dear couple is making some great strides towards revealing their shared love…awwwwwww.
<snip!>

I can only say "awwwwwww" in return! I'm glad you found the purple pee funny -- and could anyone really believe that dinner with Filius and Minerva would actually turn out to be a date, no matter what Albus had in mind? haha! I don't think Albus was too disappointed! Hee!

And he did make a little bit of progress from just walking her down the stairs then to the end of the hall to walking her to her door in this chappie -- and he actually (gasp!) kissed her cheek! I'm surprised Minerva didn't faint, and I'm the one writing the story! Hahaha! ;D

Thanks for your words about tipsy Minerva! I'm glad you liked her!

We'll be getting more fluffy moments interspersed with small bumps in the road and a few spanners thrown in the works, of course . . . they will eventually get together. I promise! I wouldn't put myself through this if they weren't!!! Besides, remember that AAoL is a distant sort of sequel, and they've been together and very happy for decades at that point!!!

[sevherfan]

You mention those who "prefer shorter, faster paced stories." And I must say that this story can turn people away from those forever. I used to be, but I've stuck with this, and find myself missing the agonizing build-up when I read the others now. Some frustrations are wonderful, just ask Albus and Minerva. Don't read into this that I don't want the kiss to happen as fast as humanly possible though!!!!!!! hehe. Have a good trip!

[esoterica1693]

Oh, this update was WONDERFUL. I've read it at least 4 times already! Your tipsy Minerva is absolutely smashing. (Or should that be smashed?:-) She keeps giving out these huge hints w/o even realizing it. Does Albus catch them? I bet his dreams will be quite something tonight!

As to the pace of your story--it is torture, but good torture. And now that I'm hooked I couldn't possibly wait til the end to read it all in one swell foop. I need my fix!

Have a great trip.

[twinkle]

I didn't want to suggest that I prefer shorter stories. That are often quite sweet, but I really love your story, BECAUSE it is a longer one.
One of the most disappointing moments for me was, after having read Lord of the rings, to realize Tolkien was dead and couldn't write on.
The same goes for some other great novels.
And I surely don't want you to rush things on. The most adorable about your story (for me anyway) is the fact, that this could be real life! It is so very well written... all this self doubt, the not-daring, the waiting, hoping, dreaming and stepping back (and hopefully forward a little later on).

I really didn't want you to change anything about the way you tell your story!!!
I'm just so veeeeeery curious about the ongoing. It doesn't matter if it is still another week, month or year they need. Just post it ^^!
That's what I tried to say ;o)
I'm taking exams right now at university and I don't really like multiple choice, so I'm quite a nervous wreck by now (that doesn't improve the ituation, I know). But your story always makes me smile and I'm like a little child at Christmas whenever I discover an update.
And I'm quite obsessed with good stories (I once read Donna Cross' "Pope Joan" and couldn't put it away. I gave it back to my teacher the next day. That was in grade 7 and it didn't get any better with me ^^).
So just feel praised enormously for your story and keep the updates coming ^^.
I'm always awaiting them eagerly. If waiting is torture, it is a very sweet one and immedeately forgotten with each new chapter;o)

[MMADfan]

Okey-dokey! As long as the waiting is sweet torture and not simply sheer head-banging frustration, that's all good! ;D

Glad everybody likes tipsy Minerva! Hee! And yes, esoterica, there were a few hints in there, but Albus just didn't pick up on them. But they may percolate through his subconscious some . . . of course, he was rather sweet with Minerva, too -- Telling her she looked very beautiful and there probably wasn't a wizard who could tear his eyes from her! Maybe that will percolate through a bit, too. ;D

There should be an update as soon as I return from my trip, since it's drafted and only needs a bit of polishing. If I get to the computer between now and getting back, there may be another update before then -- but it seems unlikely at the moment, particularly with DH coming out shortly!!!

[MMADfan]

Note: Well, I had a little bit of "down time" while on my trip, so I polished up this chapter and thought I'd post it for you all as you anxiously await DH to be released. I hope this entertains!

Posted in two parts because of length.

XCII: None But the Two

At ten o’clock the next morning, Minerva walked down to the front gates and Apparated to London. The committee meeting had been unsatisfactory, from her point of view, in that they had come to no decision about Pretnick’s job. She had hoped that it wouldn’t take long for the committee to come up with a recommendation, but it appeared that this committee was like all other committees she’d had experience with, and there would be a few more meetings before they had a recommendation for the full staff. That meant more waiting for Pretnick, although from what Albus had said, he didn’t believe he should come back to the school, and he had a very bleak view of his future.

Minerva was unhappy, too, with what Belby had said about his progress toward creating a potion to treat lycanthropy. The only potion that he had that did not have dangerous, or even potentially deadly, side effects, simply put the werewolf into a deep sleep prior to the transformation; unfortunately, the sleep did not carry through the entire period of transformation. At some point during the night, the werewolf would wake and begin exhibiting behaviour typical of a confined werewolf – running in circles, biting its own limbs and tail, and flinging itself against the walls in an attempt to escape and find human prey. Belby was working on refinements, but none of them were without danger. One interesting side effect to the special sleeping potion was that the werewolf now retained some memory of being a werewolf; normally, the person did not remember the transformation or what he did when under its influence. Belby believed that this showed some change in the werewolf’s awareness, and he was focussing on exploiting that aspect of the potion, believing that perhaps consciousness was the key to the treatment, since every attempt he had made to thwart the transformation itself had ended in the death of the werewolf or some other almost equally disastrous result.

Despite her own discouragement with both the committee and the potion, Minerva was determined to remain cheerful – well, as cheerful as was appropriate – during her visit with Pretnick. As she entered the Creature-Induced Injuries ward, she wondered precisely what she could say to someone who had been bitten by a werewolf that wouldn’t sound disingenuous. She needn’t have worried.

“Good morning, Robert! How are you feeling today?”

“Minerva . . . hullo. I’m as you see me.” He gestured at his leg, which was still swathed in bandages. He gave a bitter chuckle. “Of course, come by in a few weeks, and you’ll see quite a different me.” He bared his teeth mockingly. “Grr.”

Minerva wasn’t sure how to react to his peculiar joke. “Well, I’m glad to see you today. How’s the leg?”

“Healing slowly.” He gave another bitter laugh. “Ironically enough, the Healers say that after my first transmogrification, it will heal up completely. Of course, I’ll have other injuries that will need healing after that . . . but the leg will be like new.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing. Does it hurt much?”

“Not anymore. They gave me potions for the pain . . . now it just itches like hell.”

Minerva pulled up a chair and sat down. “You know, everyone was most distressed to hear about your injury, and they all admired how well you defended the Higgs family.”

“Hmph. That explains why you’re my first visitor. They’re all so busy ‘admiring’ my ineptness.”

“Professor Dumbledore and Professor Gamp – ”

“Had to visit me. It’s their job. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“They wanted to visit you, Robert. And I know they’ve been back to see you, more than once. If it were only obligation, they would have come that first day, then been done with it.”

The Defence teacher didn’t respond to that, only looking away.

“What about your family, Robert?”

“They’re all Muggles.”

“But surely you’ve told them?”

“No . . . no, they wouldn’t understand.”

“I think you may be underestimating them, Robert.” Minerva hesitated. She knew some Muggle-borns grew away from their Muggle families as their lives became more immersed in the wizarding world. “Unless you don’t have any contact with them . . .”

“No, no, I do. And I think my nephew – he’s four – he may be a wizard.” Pretnick’s eyes filled with tears. “I had wanted to help him, make it easier for him than it was for me growing up. At least my sister has some idea what is going on with him, which is better than when I was a boy.”

“You can still help him, Robert! You’re only a werewolf three days out of the month.”

“Yes, and then recovering from it for a week, not to mention a danger to everyone near me during those three days. And ostracised the rest of the month.”

“There are advances made in Healing every day; you can’t know that there won’t be a cure right around the corner.”

“After I’ve infected how many other people? Or even if I don’t, I’ll be dependent on charity for the rest of my life. No one hires a werewolf.”

“We’re working on that, Robert.”

The wizard snorted. “As if I would trust myself in a school full of children. Werewolves love children, you know. That’s why the Higgs were such a tempting target for that werewolf. Who is now out of her misery, at least. I can only hope that someone will do the same for me.”

“Robert! Professor Dumbledore said that you tried to spare the werewolf even after she’d bitten you!”

“And that was a mistake. She had no life, particularly as a Muggle. And if I had done the right thing to begin with and just killed her, I wouldn’t have been bitten. Stupid human sentimentality.”

“It isn’t stupid and it isn’t sentimental. It is human, though. Human compassion and human reverence for life.”

“You see, I’m no longer human. I may still look human to you, Minerva, but I’m not. I’m a werewolf. And I know what that means. I do teach Defence, after all. Or I did. The point is, you can’t tell me that everything will be all right because I know it won’t be.”

“Life won’t be the same as it was before, but you can still have a life, Robert. You still live and breathe. You could even work in the Muggle world, which not all wizards could manage.”

Robert shook his head. “I can’t even drive an automobile, Minerva. I may be able to use a telephone, but you need more skills than that to work in the Muggle world. I’ve been a wizard since I was eleven. I don’t fit in the Muggle world anymore.”

“It sounds as though you’re close to your family, though.”

“Mmm. I suppose. But family life is more-or-less the same whether you’re a wizard or a Muggle.”

“You really should tell them. Are your parents still alive?”

“My mother is. My father passed away last year. . . . I’m getting tired, Minerva. I think I need to sleep now.”

Minerva stood. “I’ll come visit again, Robert.”

The wizard nodded. “All right. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry I wasn’t better company.”

“Just get your rest and take care of your leg.”

Minerva left St. Mungo’s using the street level exit. She thought that as long as she was in London, she would go to Diagon Alley and do some shopping. It had been nice to be in the city the night before; the bustle of the street even on a weekday night had been a nice change from Hogwarts, and she had been surprised to find that she had missed it.

By the time she had finished her shopping, having first visited Gringott’s, then gone on to Scribbulus’s, Madam Malkin’s, and Flourish & Blotts, Minerva realised that she had long since missed lunch. She was just paying for her books and was debating whether to have lunch in Diagon Alley or to return to Hogwarts and have Blampa bring her something, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Ah, and ’tis the fairest witch o’ me acquaintance, and ’tis not even condescendin’ t’ greet me, she is!”

Minerva turned with a grin. “Quin!”

“Minerva.” Quin returned her grin and nodded. “You have a few parcels there. Have you been after workin’ up a thirst?”

“I don’t know about a thirst, but I am hungry. I was just trying to decide whether to eat something now or to wait till I got home.”

“I believe I am owin’ you a meal or three . . . ma grande dame de la Metamorphosis,” Quin said with an impish wink. “Come! Where would you like to eat?”

“The Leaky Cauldron would be fine – I can Floo back from there.”

“Your wish is me command!” He bowed with a flourish, waving the door open for her.

As they walked toward the pub, Minerva explained that she’d been visiting a colleague at St. Mungo’s and had thought she would do a bit of shopping while she was in town. “I hadn’t thought that I would take so long, but I lose track of time when I’m in a bookstore.”

“I, too, suffer from that affliction – however, I discovered the cure for that today.”

“And what was that?” Minerva asked with an amused smile.

“The distraction of a fair lady!”

Minerva snorted. “I should have known it would be something like that!”

“I cannot guarantee it would work for you – but you could try lookin’ in a mirror and see!”

“Oh, hush with your nonsense, Quin!” But Minerva laughed.

They reached the pub and found a table in the corner away from the hubbub of the comings and goings of what seemed half the wizarding population of Britain. Minerva placed her parcels on the seat beside her, and a tall, gangly young wizard came over and took their lunch order.

As they were waiting, Quin leaned forward and asked, “So, how’s your wizard? Seen him since you left the Gamps, have you?”

“He’s not my wizard, yes, I’ve seen him, and he is fine.”

“More to the point, how are you?” He looked at her face carefully, as if examining it for a clue or a sign. “You still haven’t told him, have you, lass?”

Minerva reddened. “I don’t think this is an appropriate topic of conversation.”

Quin sat back and shrugged, spreading his hands expressively. “Dry weather we’ve been havin’, ain’t it? Parched, practically.”

“Quin . . .” Minerva sighed.

“What? The weather is off-limits now, too? Well, then . . . what do you think of the Prides this year? I favour the Kestrels, meself. But I must say, the Wasps ain’t doin’ too poorly. They just might have a chance this season.”

“Quin! I do not want to talk about Quidditch, either.”

“Nothin’ t’ talk about, then? All right. Silence can be congenial.”

“You are truly incorrigible.”

“So you keep tellin’ me. And you’re not rid o’ me yet.”

“How are your children?”

“Left ’em with me mum. Me sister is close by, and her kids come over, or mine go there. They have a grand time. I have business in London still, but I’ll be back and spendin’ some time with ’em later in the summer.”

“You mentioned you have a place there, yourself. Is that where you’ll be?”

“It will be. It’s a small place now. I signed most o’ the land o’er to me brother-in-law, but it’s in trust fer me kids, in case they want it when they’re grown. And if he dies, it reverts.”

“It all sounds complicated to me.”

“Borin’, not complicated. Just can’t stay awake long enough to listen to it t’ be understandin’ it,” Quin said with a smile.

Their lunch arrived, and conversation became less stilted as they relaxed over their food.

Minerva found herself speaking of her dinner at Delancie’s the night before and her tipsy visit to the Headmaster’s office afterward.

“I can’t imagine what he must have thought of me! When I woke up this morning, I felt properly embarrassed. I said the silliest things.” Minerva laughed at herself.

“And the great Albus Dumbledore sobered you up with tea and biscuits?”

“No biscuits. I couldn’t have eaten another crumb. And I do wish you wouldn’t call him that, Quin.”

“What? Oh – you mean, ‘the great Albus Dumbledore’? I don’t mean anythin’ disrespectful by it.”

“I know you don’t, but I’d just rather you didn’t. If you knew him better, you wouldn’t.”

“And you don’t think him great?” Quin asked.

“Of course I do, that’s not what I meant.”

“Mmm.” Quin looked at her with a peculiar expression. “I see.” Then he added briskly, “Well, you’ll just have to invite me to Hogwarts for that tour, and p’raps I can get t’ know him better!”

“Yes, I’m sorry . . . it just slipped my mind. I’m afraid I’ve been rather busy with various things. I hadn’t forgotten it altogether,” she said hastily. “I even mentioned it to Dumbledore. He thinks there should be no problem with a tour of all the House common rooms, as well. I still haven’t asked the Head of Gryffindor, but that should be an easy one,” Minerva said, thinking of her last private conversation with Wilhelmina, “Dumbledore asked Slughorn already, though, and he’s amenable, and the Head of Ravenclaw has also agreed. I’m still waiting to hear about Hufflepuff, but there’s a good chance that’ll come through, as well. I’ll know in a couple days when I see Poppy.”

“Poppy – your friend, the matron, correct?”

“Mmhm.” Minerva took a bite of her sandwich.

“And why, if you don’t mind me askin’, would you be findin’ out from her?”

“She’s a Hufflepuff. Professor Dustern was her Head of House. She is asking for me.”

“I’ll never understand how these Houses work, I’m afraid.”

“It’s just that Professor Dustern will be leaving her post in August. I don’t know her very well.”

“I see . . . she and your Headmaster aren’t gettin’ along, and you’re none too fond o’ her, elseways.”

Minerva rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I thought you said you don’t know anythin’ about Hogwarts and don’t understand the Houses.” She snorted. “You’ve been talking to Gertrude.”

“I often talk with that lovely witch, Minerva. But if you are implyin’ that I spoke with her about this particular topic, that I haven’t. I simply know business. And Hogwarts business may be a bit different from me own, but if the Headmaster is askin’ the others, but not this one, and this one is leavin’, and you’re askin’ Gryffindor, but not this one, well, there are several plausible explanations, but as a wise man once said, the simplest answer is usually the correct one. Lex parsimoniae, Minerva!”

“Occam’s Razor.” Minerva quirked a smile at Quin’s surprised expression. “You forget who my father is – and that I studied with Dumbledore.”

“Hmm. It may be that I have underestimated the Hogwarts education. I did not think they stooped to Muggle philosophy.”

“I believe it was also mentioned in passing in my Arithmancy class – with Gertrude. With, of course, many counterexamples from Arithmancy, which were then shown to be incorrect in the end.” Minerva shook her head and let out a sigh. “Arithmancy was never my strong suit, I’m afraid, but Albus was right. It was invaluable when studying advance Transfigurations and devising novel spells.”

“And yet you won’t let me call him ‘the great Dumbledore,’” Quin said in mock distress.

Minerva laughed. “I never said he wasn’t ‘great,’ nor that he didn’t teach me a lot, just that it annoys me when you repeatedly call him ‘the great Albus Dumbledore.’ It sounds mocking. I know you don’t mean it that way . . . but some would.”

“All right, me dear.” Quin smiled gently and patted her hand. “Just know I’ll always be thinkin’ ‘great’ when I say his name – as do you, I can see that in your eyes. Hmm . . . Occam’s Razor?” He asked, looking at Minerva questioningly, and she blushed.

“I don’t know what you are on about, Quin, but what do you say to some dessert? Or tea? Or coffee?”

“Coffee, I suppose. But not here. The coffee here tastes like mud. Florean does a nice coffee, and you can have some dessert, if you like.” Quin took Minerva’s change of topic easily and waved at the waiter to bring him the bill.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

XCII: None But the Two, Continued

Albus had finished his business at the Ministry later that morning than he had hoped. It was well after noon before he made it to Gringotts to see to it that the monthly transfer from his account to the Indigent Scholars’ account was increased and to arrange for St. Mungo’s to be able to bill his account directly for young Pretnick’s care. Albus wanted to insure that Robert received the very best care possible, not just the minimal required. He had instructed St. Mungo’s to put any additional charges on his account, and he needed to make certain that Gringotts understood these instructions, as well. On impulse, once he was at the bank, he made an additional donation to the Creature-Induced Injuries ward for the care of any other werewolf patients and instructed the goblins to continue to make a monthly donation to that purpose.

Now Albus was wanting his lunch. The Leaky Cauldron would be the easiest thing, he thought, and so he walked briskly down the street, nodding greetings at those he passed, but not pausing to speak to them. Despite some of the business he’d dealt with at the Ministry, he was in a cheerful mood, and it was all due to Minerva. Inviting her up to his suite for late dessert the other night had been a fine idea. He would have to find other such excuses to spend time with her . . . she had said, after all, that she would welcome similar non-Hogwarts reasons to spend time with him. But he didn’t think that he could do exactly the same thing twice in a row. He would need to think of a new excuse. It was rather fun, really, thinking up excuses to spend time with Minerva. And there was no doubt that she genuinely enjoyed herself with him. Otherwise, why would she have arrived, somewhat tipsy, in his office the night before? He was relieved, oddly enough, that she had obviously not considered Flitwick a potential beau, and from the little that Filius had mentioned to him that morning, his thoughts weren’t moving in that direction, either. Perhaps he should find some way of subtly encouraging Minerva to see more of Quin. Quin could hardly be insensitive to Minerva’s wit and beauty and all of her other positive qualities. He would speak to Gertrude about it, as well. She might have an idea or two.

Albus stepped into the Leaky Cauldron and blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer light of the pub after the bright sunshine in Diagon Alley. He looked around for a free table, not feeling up to perching on a bar stool, and he saw Minerva sitting at a corner table with a wizard whose back was to him. The wizard leaned forward and patted Minerva’s hand, then leaned back; Minerva blushed. It was Quin. Well, so Quin could make her blush. . . .

Albus turned and quietly left the Leaky Cauldron. He would lunch elsewhere. He didn’t want to interrupt what might very well be a more successful date than the one he had arranged for her with Filius. The smile faded from his face as he stepped back out into Diagon Alley in search of a light lunch. Florean Fortescue did a passable soup. He would just eat there then be back off home to Hogwarts. Albus headed off for the ice cream shop, distracted by the pang in his heart and the sense of loss that was creeping up on him. He scolded himself – after all, he had already decided to encourage Minerva to see Quin. If she had lunch with the young wizard, that was a good thing. His mind may have been convinced by his argument, but his heart was not. And when Florean told him that the soup was sold out, he didn’t feel the slightest bit bad for ordering a banana split with three kinds of ice cream, two flavours of sauce, and almost as much whipped cream on top as ice cream below.

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this, Quin. I need to get back to Hogwarts. There’s work to be doing.”

Albus heard Minerva grumble as the pair approached the ice cream shop. He turned his head to see Quin guiding her through the cluster of umbrella’d tables. His spoon stopped half-way on its course to his mouth, and ice cream began to drip on his robes. There was no escape – and yes, the couple had seen him now. And he could not pretend not to have seen them.

“Professor Dumbledore!” Minerva said, smiling delightedly. “How lovely to run into you here!” Then, in a lower voice, she added, “Do you know you’re dripping ice cream, Albus?”

Albus hastily put his spoon back in his bowl and looked down at the ice cream running down his front to puddle in his lap. Before he could do anything about it, it was gone.

“Allow me,” Quin said, and with a slight gesture, the mess on his robes was cleaned up. “It is good to see you again, sir.” Quin nodded at the older wizard, who was about to stand. “Please, don’t get up. We were just comin’ for some coffee and dessert.”

“It is a very nice day for ice cream,”Albus said politely.

“It may be forward of me, but would you care for company?” Quin asked.

“Yes, may we join you?”

Albus couldn’t possibly say “no,” and certainly not to Minerva, so he smiled and gestured toward the chairs, which pulled themselves out from the table. “That would be lovely.”

“Why don’t I go inside, love, and let Florean know we are here – it seems the midday rush is over, and he may not have seen us,” Quin said, addressing Minerva.

“Thank you, Quin.” When Quin had gone into the shop, Minerva turned to Albus. “It really is nice to run into you! I didn’t know you would be in London today, or I would have enjoyed meeting you for lunch!”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to interfere with your plans or your . . . date,” Albus replied, taking another bite of ice cream, which, as long as it was in its Charmed bowl, didn’t melt very quickly, despite the warm sun.

“I didn’t have any plans for lunch, and this isn’t a date. I just happened to see Quin in Flourish and Blotts at about the time I was thinking of getting something to eat. Pure coincidence.”

“I see.”

“Am I correct in guessing that that is your lunch, Albus?” Minerva asked, pointing at the bowl of ice cream.

“I took my vitamin potion last night,” Albus protested. “And there’s fruit here – bananas and cherries, see!” He waved his spoon over the bowl, indicating the bright red cherries.

Minerva laughed. “You are a grown wizard. I suppose if you want an ice cream sundae for lunch, no one will stop you.” She looked at him affectionately. “Do take care of yourself, though, Albus. For all of us who care about you, hmm?”

Albus smiled. “Ice cream is very good for the soul, you know. You should have some!”

Quin returned, a tray with three cups of coffee, cream, and sugar, floating in front of him. “He’ll be out in a moment to take our dessert orders. He’s busy with some delivery person out back at the moment.” He settled the tray on the table with nary a ripple in the coffee. “I wasn’t sure whether you drank coffee or not, Professor, but I took the liberty o’ bringin’ you a cup. Don’t feel obligated t’ drink it.”

Albus took a cup, added two teaspoons of sugar and a liberal amount of cream. Minerva added only cream to hers, relying on Quin’s assurance that it wasn’t “swill.” Quin took his black with a half teaspoon of sugar – to “bring out the acid,” he said, whatever that was supposed to mean.

“So, Quin, I understand you provided Minerva with company while she was at the Gamps,” Albus said conversationally, trying to remember his resolve to see to it that Minerva found a suitable wizard who could make her happy.

“I did try t’ be more congenial company than that she could have found with others there.” Quin smiled warmly, first at Minerva, then directing his gaze at Albus. “I took care of her and tried t’ return her to you whole, happy, and intact, sir.” His smile did not fade, and Albus could feel the warmth the young wizard was projecting, intentionally or not, but he was unsure whether the warmth were directed at him or only at Minerva.

“I did not need to be taken care of, Quin!” Minerva protested indignantly.

Quin shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “Let me say, then, that ’twas a convenient thing for us both that we spent time together, given the presence of certain other individuals at the gath’rin’ and leave it at that, shall we?”

Albus smiled. “Thank you for taking care of Minerva, Quin. Or not,” he added, seeing Minerva’s expression.

“And I hope she was returned to you happy and intact?” Quin asked the older wizard.

Ignoring Minerva’s scowl, Albus said, “She seemed to have enjoyed herself, didn’t you tell me that, my dear?” Albus turned to Minerva, who nodded.

“I do believe she would have enjoyed your company there, sir. You were missed by many. I know that Robert and Gertrude both would have been pleased if you had been able t’ come this year. And,” Quin added with a barely perceptible glance at Minerva, “you could have taken care o’ Minerva yourself.”

It was all that Albus could do not to blush at Quin’s statement. The boy was a MacAirt; the males weren’t as gifted as the witches, but Quin was rather extraordinary, from what Gertrude had said of him. Had he somehow seen into the old wizard’s heart and discovered his attachment to his one-time protege? “Well, as Minerva says, she can take care of herself,” Albus said.

Just then, Florean appeared to take their order. At the wizards’ encouragement, Minerva ordered a small bowl of ice cream. Quin declined, however, saying that he had some business later that afternoon and would need to be leaving soon.

Minerva protested. “You dragged me here, Quin. The least you can do is have some ice cream with us.”

“I was sayin’ I wanted coffee, love; I said nothin’ of ice cream. An’ ’tis not abandonin’ you, I am! I’m after leavin’ you in the company o’ Professor Dumbledore, who is even more congenial company than meself, t’ be sure!” He grinned at Minerva impishly, who glared at him for a moment, but then, unable to help herself, laughed.

“All right, Quin. I don’t want to be keeping you from your work – ’though you were quite happy to keep me from mine!”

“What are we ever t’ do with her, Professor?” Quin asked rhetorically, shaking his head melodramatically. “’Tis lovin’ her that’s the only thing for it – wouldn’t you say?” He looked at Albus expectantly.

Albus nodded and wished he could think of something clever and amusing to say in response. But the only response he could think of was clearly inappropriate, so he simply nodded and smiled at Minerva.

“Well, if you two are going to conspire against me, I haven’t a chance!” Minerva said in good-natured resignation.

“’Tis for you we are, love,” Quin said softly, his demeanor suddenly mild, “An’ never against you.”

“He’s right, Minerva. I heard you when you arrived, saying you had to get back to work. There’s nothing at Hogwarts today that can’t wait for you to have a bowl of ice cream.”

“But I haven’t written up your report yet, Professor,” Minerva protested.

“There will be time for that later, my dear. I wouldn’t have been able to read it yet, anyway.” He reached out and patted her arm.

The shopkeeper arrived with Minerva’s ice cream and another cup of coffee for Quin, interrupting their conversation. Quin drank off half the coffee, black, then stood.

“I have t’ take me leave of ye, desolate though that renders me!”

“But you’ll be visiting the castle soon, I understand,” Albus said.

“That I will, sir, as soon as your lady sees fit to invite me there. Good day t’ ye both,” Quin said with a grin.

“’Bye, Quin!” Minerva said. “And I will be inviting you soon, I promise!”

Quin was off with a cheery wave to them both, and when Albus later asked for the bill, they discovered that he had paid for all three of them.

“He’s a gentleman,” said Albus after Florean had vanished back into his shop.

“Yes, and a rogue, as he would tell you. Though he’s not really . . . he’s just not . . . typical, I suppose you’d say,” Minerva replied thoughtfully.

“No, not typical. Although he does seem to appreciate you, Minerva.”

“Yes, well, I suppose so.” Minerva hoped he wasn’t about to start on about how he’d make a good suitor. “He was under orders from Gertrude, apparently, to keep me company and try to keep me from any unpleasant encounters with some of the more disagreeable guests.”

“I am sure he spent time with you out of more than just a sense of duty, though, Minerva.”

Minerva shrugged slightly. “We enjoyed each other’s company; it’s nice to make new friends. Sometimes one does feel that one knows absolutely everyone in the wizarding world and there’s no one new to meet . . .”

“And . . . did he succeed?” Albus asked hesitantly.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant, did he succeed in keeping you from unpleasant encounters?”

“He wasn’t glued to my side, Albus. Not everyone at the Gamps was pleasant. They say you can’t pick your relatives, but it does seem to me that some of the people to whom Gertrude is related by marriage, well, I wouldn’t choose them for relatives.”

“So . . . you did encounter some disagreeable people?”

“You know already that Valerianna Yaxley was there. She was superficially charming, as I am sure you know, but she tried to be slyly unpleasant. She didn’t succeed. She wasn’t in the least bit clever, though she certainly was unpleasant. And then there were all these old witches and wizards – well, not that old, actually. Many were younger than my father. But they were certainly past their prime, unlike my dad – or you. They kept fishing around to find out if I was a half-blood, since they didn’t recognise the McGonagall name. I gathered that none of them reads, or they’d at least have noticed Dad’s books on display in Flourish and Blotts, if nothing else. Anyway, I finally made my escape by mentioning Grandmother Siofre. They were so busy trying to get over the fact that she’s a Tyree, they couldn’t keep me pinned there for their examination any longer.”

“It does sound as though you can take care of yourself, then,” Albus chuckled, wishing, though, that Minerva had elaborated on Valerianna Yaxley’s “unpleasantness,” despite not really wanting to discuss the witch. He certainly was a mass of contradictions lately!

“Yes . . . well . . .” Minerva hesitated. Albus didn’t seem to want to discuss the Yaxley person, but he hadn’t flinched or started playing with what remained of his ice cream – it had been too much for even him to finish, he’d stated – perhaps she should say something more. Something that might make Albus feel a little better . . . .

Albus looked slightly alarmed at her hesitation. “Did something happen? Was someone – ”

“Well, in a way. I am afraid I was rather rude, myself, Albus. I already confessed to Gertrude . . . I know that one does not attend a social gathering of any type and hex a fellow guest, and certainly not at an engagement party, no matter the provocation . . .”

“You hexed a guest, Minerva?” Albus asked, astonished.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a hex. It was only a little jinx. And as I explained to Gertrude, it was not on a person . . .”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense, my dear! What did you do?” Albus couldn’t for the life of him imagine sensible Minerva McGonagall, despite her occasional temper, hexing a guest at a party!

“I jinxed Valerianna Yaxley’s shoes. With a slow-shrinking jinx.” She grinned, failing in her attempt to keep a straight face. “She apparently was quite hobbled by it. Claimed to Madam Gamp that some unknown person had hexed her.”

Albus was torn between amusement, shock, and embarrassment that he had ever been associated with that particular witch.

Seeing Albus’s expression and unsure how to interpret it, Minerva continued, “Gertrude already knew about the jinx by then, but I don’t believe she enlightened anyone about the cause of the witch’s difficulties. Besides,” Minerva said defensively, “she did bring it on herself for behaving like a cow!”

“She behaved like a cow?” Now Albus was puzzled.

“Not literally, Albus! There are a few other words I could choose, but we are in public. She had the bad taste to insinuate that I was alone for a moment at the party because I was a repressed spinster. She also tried to seduce Quin just after announcing her engagement to Flint. Quin, of course, found it a highly distasteful proposition. She basically behaved very badly the entire time, Albus, and worst of all at the party.”

“I see . . .” Albus wondered whether Valerianna had said anything about him, but he couldn’t very well ask that. If she had, it had likely been something that had infuriated Minerva, knowing her loyalty to him, and if she hadn’t said anything, well, no point in having Minerva wonder what the witch could have said about him. Besides, Minerva clearly didn’t hold whatever the witch had said against him.

“Well, Albus, it is getting late. Shall we be getting home? When we get back, I can write up my report on the meeting and give it to you. Unless you have other business here?”

Albus smiled. “No, my dear. No more business today. Although I will be happy to accept your report, of course.” He stood and held out his hand, assisting Minerva from her chair. He looked at her, and he was once again struck by her warmth, her beauty, her wit, and her determination. “I am very glad we saw each other today, Minerva. Thank you.”

Minerva returned his smile. “I am glad, too, Albus. It was a wonderful chance to have found you here.” She took his arm and squeezed it slightly. “Floo or Apparition?”

“Apparition, if that suits you,” Albus replied.

Minerva nodded, and they began to walk down the street. “Apparition would be faster.”

“May I offer you a Side-Along, my dear?” Albus asked as they reached the small side alley that many used as a Disapparition point.

Minerva flushed slightly, remembering her first Side-Along Apparition with Albus.

“Of course, I know you are quite capable – ” he began, thinking perhaps he had insulted her.

“Yes, please, Albus. That would be nice. Although, after the ice cream . . . .” She was shameless, she thought. Utterly shameless.

“Ah, well, we can compensate for that, I am sure.” Albus blushed despite himself. “You are a bit taller than you were . . . but come closer, my dear.”

Minerva stepped closer and let him put an arm around her. Feeling her blood flow into places where it really had no business pulsing so strongly, Minerva fought to control her breathing.

“Are you nervous, Minerva?” Albus placed his other hand at her waist.

Minerva shook her head, unable to speak. She closed her eyes and laid her head against him. His magic thrummed powerfully, in waves washing over her, gently bringing her magic in tune with itself.

Albus’s breath was warm on her forehead. “Ready, my dear?”

“Almost,” she whispered, savouring the sensation of his warm embrace, of his strong magic mingling with hers, of his soft breath on her face. She could stay in his arms forever.

Finally, unable to delay any longer, Minerva nodded, and the two Disapparated from the alley with a barely audible pop. Had anyone been watching, they would have believed they had seen two lovers in an embrace, but no one was there . . . none but the two who loved.

---

Hope this pleased!

[Orion's Guard]

This is all great. The aparation memory is priceless. I have been enjoying the long buildup, though I must admit it is frustrating at times! Since we have such detail leading up to the relationship, will we also have detail afterwards?

[Alesia]

I love this update. Quin is my absolutely favorite OMC character in any HP fic I have read. He has to know who Minerva's wizard is by now. Occum's Razor, the 'we just have to love her' line, your lady; it is all perfect, perfect, perfect!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have to say thank you I didn't think we were going to get another update prior to the DH release, what a treat!! Have a great vacation and thank you for such an unexpected treat.

[sevherfan]

That was better than a kiss.

(I see you are like me and couldn't keep away from it while on vacation either. hehe)

[Hogwarts Duo]

Oh you are just too good to us…thinking of us wasting away without any RaM morsels while you’re lounging around on holiday waiting for DH to be released!! This GLM thanks you!!! Now on with the review…

I feel so sorry for Robert in some ways but he didn’t have to be so rude to Minerva. I’m sure he’s got a lot on his plate but at the very least he could have appreciated that she took the time to come to see him. Duty or not at least she made the effort.

I was surprised that Minerva ran into Quin in Diagon Alley and it seems like they picked up right where they left off. He’s still trying to get her to tell her mystery man about her feelings and she’s still living in a bit of denial about them and whether or not Albus would love her. Tsk Tsk Tsk…maybe one day she’ll wake up and smell the java!

But I swear I heard my heart crack when Albus stepped into the pub and he saw Minerva and Quin together. I knew he’d get the wrong end of the stick. I’m just glad they ran into him later and Minerva was able to set him straight on their chance meeting.

The banter between the three of them was interesting and entertaining to watch unfold. I have never felt more uneasy for Albus as I did at that table. I could actually feel his tension but when Quin decided to take his leave, it’s like things began to look up again…haha.

And that last bit…Minerva is such a scammer and I LOVED IT!! Albus is such the true gentleman to offer to do a side along apparation and then to hold her close as he did just melted my heart! I love it when you give us little bits and pieces of fluff, though they’re not even a couple yet. It makes my shipper heart sing for joy!!! ;D

Enjoy DH and I’ll look for an update soon!

[MMADfan]

Just a really quick response to everyone's terrific reviews of this chapter -- thanks so much for all your comments, BTW! -- yup, I'm not going to get them together then leave the story at that last chapter. There will be at least a few, and likely several, chapters once they finally get together. Fluffiness galore. And some zesty lemonade, as well. *grin*

Sevherfan -- glad you like the Side-Along! And that it was better than a kiss!

Alesia -- I'm more pleased than I can express that you like Quin so well!

Orion's Guard -- I am glad you're still enjoying the build-up (and I hope you enjoy the chapters to come, including the ones after the two resolve their real misunderstanding and finally get together)!

Hogwarts Duo -- well, I'm very happy I was able to please the GLM! And Robert was very depressed. He tried to appreciate Minerva's visit, but his heart wasn't in it. And the dynamic at Fortescue's was interesting to write. And Albus seeing Minerva and Quin together, noticing Minerva's blush, obviously not realizing that Minerva was blushing about him, and then quietly leaving . . . *sigh* It's a good thing that they went on to Fortescue's and that Minerva could disabuse him of the notion that she'd been on a "date" with Quin!

And I'm very glad that folks liked the Side-Along! *grin* Thanks for reading!

[esoterica1693]

Wonderful chapter. The side-along was brilliant. H.Duo--IMO it wasn't just MM who was scheming here, and Albus wasn't just being a gentleman....he may not have been conscious of it, but on *some* level of his brain/heart/other organs Albus was remembering that original Side-Along too, I'm sure of it! Minerva's scheming just fulfilled his fantasies more than he had ever hoped.

And yes, their arrival at the gates and their walk up to the castle could be interesting! If I were either one of them I'd be snogging the other at that point, but obviously I'm not and they won't! :-)

I'm glad that Quin has made the connection now, rather than waiting til the tour for him to add 2 and 2. Now at the tour he can try to do something to get them together, even more than the verbal hints he started dropping over Albus' sundae!