Resolving a Misunderstanding (complete)

[Merriam]

Quin is quite the smart little lad, isn't he? Well, perhaps not "little," but compared to Albus... :-)

I loved this chapter! Thank you, thank you, thank you for updating so quickly! Like Hogwarts Duo said, you do treat us much too well...but of course I'm not complaining. ;-)

Looking forward to more of Minerva's "scheming" in the chapters to come *hint*
And have a great vacation!

[MMADfan]

Note: Okay, I was going to keep this in reserve and post it when I got back from vacation, but everyone has been so kind to review and all, I thought I'd post it today. It's a short one, I will warn you, but I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless!

XCIII: Forever in the Sun

Albus lay in bed and cast another cooling charm. The room was comfortable enough; it was he who was uncomfortable, uncomfortable with the feelings that he had allowed to rise in him that afternoon, feelings that kept returning. He was old enough and self-controlled enough, he told himself, to be able to conquer both his emotions and his physical responses. His Occlumency, his long life, his costly defeat of Grindelwald, even his study of alchemy, all should have prepared him to meet the troubles of life with equanimity. Not with complete emotional detachment, of course; that would render him inhuman. But he should be able to calm himself . . . but Minerva was no trouble of life, no problem to be solved, no obstacle to be overcome. No, it was in himself, the trouble, the problem, the obstacle.

He closed his eyes and relaxed completely. Albus knew why he wasn’t able to overcome the obstacle within. He did not truly wish to overcome it. That is why all of his efforts had been misdirected, external ones, and why they had all failed. But as he had told himself before, and as he completely, fully believed, love was a good thing. Love should not be an obstacle to be overcome. Love should be embraced. Love should be acted upon. It should be expressed. If expressed properly, love would surely help him to overcome his difficulties. His decision to behave normally around Minerva was incomplete without an acknowledgment that he would be acting out of love for her. It would simply have to be an appropriate love expressed in appropriate terms. And one of those appropriate expressions would be to allow her to live her life as she chose; not to push her toward Filius Flitwick or Quin MacAirt, but to encourage her once she did choose her wizard.

Quin MacAirt. There was no denying that the young wizard had a great deal of affection for Minerva. Albus believed from seeing their interactions that it would take very little for the Irish wizard to fall in love with Minerva. Minerva, on the other hand . . . he was not entirely sure of her feelings toward Quin. Clearly she liked him and was comfortable with him – far more comfortable than she was in the company of most, although she had persisted in addressing him as “Professor” until after Quin had left. She did allow Quin to tease her, though, and he had made her laugh. That was definitely a very good thing for Minerva. It was as Poppy had said the day before: Minerva had been old before she was young and she did occasionally need to “loosen up,” as the matron had put it. Quin could do that for her. Yes, Quin might be suitable . . . and if Minerva chose Quin, he would support her completely. And if she were interested in someone else, well, he would encourage that. As long as the person weren’t anything like Valerianna, of course. Then he would have to intervene, just as Gertrude had done for him.

Feeling more comfortable, Albus fell asleep . . . and dreamed of Minerva.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Ah, that had been such a mistake, to have fed It when she should be overcoming It. If only she could redirect It, if only she could feel so strongly for another . . . It would certainly surrender then. Minerva turned her pillow over and fluffed it vigorously before lying back down. How could she have allowed herself to settle into his embrace as she had done? If he had somehow sensed what she had felt . . . that would have been beyond embarrassing.

Merely thinking about the Side-Along Apparition to which she had so selfishly and foolishly agreed caused Minerva to grow warm and a heavy tingling to arise in her. She would not think about it. She would not think about what it had felt like to have his arm around her and to feel his magic flowing through her own. His right arm had been around her and his left hand had been at her waist . . . he hadn’t done that during their first Side-Along. Despite her resolution not to think of Albus in that way, Minerva imagined what it would have felt like if he had drawn that hand up her side and down again, then back up to her breast. She would have raised her face to his and kissed him, drawing on his lips with her own, tasting them. Minerva shuddered and moaned.

Oh, gods, she could not, she would not think such thoughts. She had always managed to push them aside in the past. But tonight, she could still feel his reassuring solidity and the hum of his magic around her . . . her warmth grew. She had to think of something else. Anything else, anything that would keep her from tormenting herself like this.

Quin. Minerva had feared for a moment in the Leaky Cauldron that Quin had figured out that Albus was the wizard whom she loved so desperately. All that bit he had said about her thinking Albus was great, just as he did, and then his seemingly random comment about Occam’s Razor. Perhaps he had arrived at the correct explanation . . . but if so, he had had the good grace to allow her to change the subject. But then they had met Albus at Florean’s. Minerva had been thrilled to see Albus, but had tried not to let Quin see just how happy she was. Yet Quin had made comments during coffee that made her again suspect that he did believe it was Albus whom she loved . . . what would she say if Quin came right out and asked her? She couldn’t lie, not about her love for Albus. She couldn’t ever deny him that way.

It had embarrassed her, the way that Quin had said they would just have to love her. And Albus had smiled and nodded. It was no doubt just a little teasing to Albus. A lump came to her throat, but Minerva swallowed past it, reminding herself that surely Albus did love her in some way . . . he walked her through dark places and he kissed her good night, after all. On the cheek, of course. But Minerva couldn’t envision him doing that if he didn’t love her . . . perhaps as a daughter. Now Minerva blinked back tears. She didn’t want him to love her as a daughter or a granddaughter or anything similar. The least she would want would be for him to love her as a friend, but, oh, how she wished he could love her as something more.

Minerva drew a shuddering breath and let it out in a gasping sigh. Quin had said that where there’s life there’s hope . . . she wondered if he would still say that, knowing it was Albus whom she loved so. Quin would surely see that Albus was beyond her reach. And yet . . . Quin had also said that if the wizard appreciated her, paid her sincere compliments, and cared for her – no, that was when he didn’t know who it was. If he knew it was Albus, he would tell her that she had been right, Albus was hopelessly beyond her reach. She should just settle for friendly walks, friendly kisses, friendly compliments. But she would always wish they were more. Quin’s words echoed in her head . . . there will be only sadness and longing, and your joy will die. Do not let your joy die, Minerva. You love him. Let him know that he holds your heart. Let him love you.

Tears leaked from her closed eyes, and Minerva fell into a restless sleep, still denying Quin’s prediction that unless she gave Albus her love openly and freely, she was destined for pain and the death of her joy. And yet her dreams that night were only of Albus. Albus holding her, Albus in sunlight, Albus in moonlight, Albus in the wild wind, Albus in the calm, still night, Albus holding her forever. . . .

-/-/-/-/-

It seemed to Minerva that Saturday morning had come far too quickly. She had visited Pretnick again on Thursday, bringing him a few books she thought he would enjoy, and he seemed slightly more cheerful than he had two days before – well, not cheerful, but less gloomy. The committee had met again, and it seemed as though they had simply raised more questions than they had found answers, but Minerva was pleased that at least they had agreed to draft a proposal at their next meeting on the twenty-second. It was bound to be a very long meeting, Minerva thought with a sigh.

The night before, Minerva had brought Poppy out for dinner and drinks. She had asked her friend if she wanted anyone else along, but Poppy had declared that she had had a big party earlier in the day, and just wanted to spend some time with her alone, and that had warmed Minerva’s heart. Poppy was a very dear friend – even if she had persisted in asking Minerva more questions about Quin. Minerva had finally asked her if she was interested in being set up with him on a date, herself, a proposal which Poppy had appeared to consider, but then reject.

“It’s not that I think you’re interested in him, Minerva – I see quite clearly that you aren’t. It just sounds to me as though perhaps he’s grown a bit fonder of you than you’re admitting. Of course, if you’d like me to go on a date with him to try to draw him off, I’d be willing to make the sacrifice for you,” she’d said with a laugh.

Minerva had just rolled her eyes and changed the subject, telling Poppy, instead, about the plans that she and Melina had made for Brennan, and about Dumbledore’s participation. “Dumbledore seems to think it will go well, although he is a little concerned that it may be too much of a shock to Brennan, and he’ll need to Obliviate him.”

“Won’t it be too late to Obliviate him by that point?” Poppy asked, puzzled.

“It’s a two-stage process, you see. The first is the oath and the initial light binding which will enable us to tell Brennan about the wizarding world, the second is the spell that will allow him to see all things wizarding even after he’s left the flat. And the heavier binding, if he consents to it. I don’t think that Dumbledore will perform the unmasking spell, though, if he doesn’t agree to the stronger binding.”

“And Melina is prepared for all this?”

“It seems so . . . this binding isn’t really like a marriage, you know, although marriage would be the next logical step for the two of them. But it does entwine their lives in an irrevocable way. Brennan will need to fully consent to it before Dumbledore will perform it, unlike the light binding and the oath, which would be impossible for Brennan to fully consent to, given that he has no idea that the wizarding world exists and we can’t tell him until he’s taken the oath and been bound. The first binding will actually be to everyone present. That’s one reason that Murdoch will be there. Dumbledore thought it best.”

And here it was, Saturday morning, and she had a wicked headache from the night before. It wasn’t as though she’d had too much to drink . . . well, perhaps just a little too much, but Poppy had insisted on trying several very peculiarly named drinks. It was the mix of the different liquors that had done her in. Minerva had always pestered Murdoch to develop an anti-hangover potion, but he’d always just grinned and said that the best potion for that was the alcohol itself – not to drink it – and, barring that, lots of water. What good was it to have a Potions Master in the family if he didn’t develop useful potions, Minerva had often grumbled.

But she forced herself out of bed at her usual time. Albus had agreed to join her on her morning walk, and it wouldn’t do, the first time he stopped by to pick her up, for her to tell him she couldn’t go because she was nursing a hangover. He’d think she was developing into a lush, especially since he’d seen her tipsy earlier in the week after her dinner with Flitwick.

By the time Fidelio came into her bedroom landscape and barked to announce Albus’s arrival, Minerva was feeling more like herself. She’d had a long shower and three cups of strong tea. She hadn’t been hungry when she’d woken up, but now her stomach was growling.

Minerva opened the door to Albus and greeted him with a smile.

“Good morning, Minerva. You look lovely today, as always!” Albus said.

“Thank you. You look nice, yourself.” Unlike many of his more colourful robes, these were of earth tones, sandy colours mixed with dusty greens and muted blues. They were very unusual, both in colour and cut, with deep pleats at the sides, and Minerva was surprised to find that she liked them. And that they looked so attractive on him.

“But come in, please, come in,” Minerva said as she caught herself staring at him. The robes were also cut to emphasise his masculine figure; they must be more robes by Madam Malkin. There was a woman who could appreciate Dumbledore’s build. As long as she maintained only an artistic appreciation, Minerva thought. “I just need to get my shoes on and I’ll be ready.”

Just as Albus had done several days before, she brought her shoes out into the sitting room to put them on, toeing off her slippers and pulling on her stout walking shoes. “You know, I’m looking forward to this walk, but I’ll definitely be looking forward to breakfast when we get back!”

“You know, I was thinking something similar, so I took the liberty of asking Wilspy to prepare something for us before we left. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not, but I had wanted to get out while the dew was still on the grass, Albus.”

“We will! She’s preparing a basket for us, my dear. If a picnic breakfast would be all right with you . . .”

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Minerva’s face lit up. “Will we eat by the lake?” Minerva asked, thinking of their picnic so many years before.

“Actually, knowing how much you enjoy climbing around on the cliffs by your parents’, I know of a spot that takes a bit of work to get to, but which I think you would enjoy. I am glad to see you are wearing stout shoes!” he said with a smile. “But only if you’d like to; otherwise, by the lake would be fine.” They could always cast a few privacy charms, he thought. There were more people about the castle than usual at this time of year.

“That sounds like fun. I’ve never climbed any of the cliffs near here – they were forbidden when we were students, and although some of my classmates climbed them, it didn’t have the same allure for me, since I could always climb the ones near my home, and without breaking any school rules.”

“I’m actually thinking of the cliffs around behind the castle to the south of the lake. It’s a bit of a hike to get to them and we’ll no longer be on Hogwarts grounds. I hope your appetite can wait until then.”

“I think so. I had a few cups of tea – if we’re taking such a long walk, perhaps I should use the loo first.”

Albus smiled. “A wise precaution. I already had my ‘purple pee’ this morning,” he joked.

Minerva blushed, but laughed before excusing herself.

Fifteen minutes later, Albus was leading Minerva toward the Forbidden Forest, their picnic basket following them.

“We’re only skirting the edge of the forest, Minerva,” he explained. “It’s the most direct way to get where we’re going. Otherwise, we could take the long way around the lake, then cross the tracks over by the train station and walk east from there. That would greatly increase our wait for breakfast, however! We will actually be to the south and east of the castle.”

“All right, Albus. I don’t mind the forest. Not that I’d want to wander about in there the way that Hagrid does, but I sometimes walk along the edges of it in my Animagus form.”

Albus nodded. “I suppose I needn’t tell you to be careful, Minerva – but as an Animagus, you’re rather small. Some creature might think you would make a tasty snack.”

“I think they’d have a rather nasty surprise. I’ve become much quicker at transforming back and forth, Albus. Besides, I never do really enter the forest itself. I just walk along the edge, you know. And I’d likely sense something before it could get me. I’d be transformed before it knew what had happened.”

“Still . . . promise me you will be very careful, my dear.”

“Of course, Albus.” She smiled at him, curious. “You really are concerned!”

“Of course I am – I already have too many staff members to replace this year!” he joked. “But seriously, Minerva – I don’t want anything to happen to you, and anything that happened in the forest could be . . . quite serious.” He seemed to wince at the thought.

“Don’t worry, Albus. I won’t become some beast’s snack. I promise!” She grinned at him.

“Good!”

They had begun walking through the forest already, and they ran into the wall that extended from the Hogwarts perimeter partway into the forest.

“We’ll follow this along for a bit until it gets low enough to climb over. We could use magic, though, if you prefer.”

“No, this is supposed to be exercise, after all. Perhaps on the way back!”

Albus chuckled. “We can alway Apparate to the gates on the return trip if it gets late.”

“Yes, I suppose. But I told Melina I would be at the flat at one-thirty. That leaves us a lot of time, even if we want to take a shower and have lunch afterward. I mean,” she said, reddening, “if we each need to clean up before lunch.”

Albus was glad he was slightly ahead of Minerva at that point, for his mind went straight into the shower with Minerva, and he blushed at the unexpected thought.

He cleared his throat. “Of course. And you are sure you don’t want me to arrive until two-thirty?”

“Yes, Melina and I discussed it in detail. She and Brennan will get there sometime between one-thirty and two; we’ll talk to him for a little while, sort of prepare him for your arrival.”

“It’s bound to be a shock, the whole thing, no matter how much time we take, but perhaps you are right – ease him into it all gradually. And here we are, my dear! I haven’t done this walk in a long while, but this is where I usually crossed, I believe. Can you make it over the wall here, or would you like to go a bit further?”

Minerva looked at the stone wall. She thought if she could get a good purchase on it, she could heave herself up onto it. The top of the wall came just to her shoulder. “I think so. I may need a hand, but I think I can manage this.”

“I’ll go first, then, shall I? Then I can sit at the top and give you a hand if you need it.”

Minerva nodded. The wall was still broad enough at that point that they could sit quite comfortably on it. Albus grabbed hold of the stone at the top of the wall, one palm flat, the other hand gripping a slightly-projecting stone. Minerva didn’t have time to blink and he had pulled himself up and easily swung his legs to the top of the wall. Now he was kneeling, looking down at her.

“Ready to give it a try?”

Minerva nodded, somewhat daunted by Albus’s performance. She didn’t think she could be as graceful. Suddenly a thought came to her. She backed up a couple feet and surveyed the wall. Yes, she could be as graceful.

“Catch me, Albus!” And in a flash, Minerva transformed into a tabby cat, putting great effort into making it the smoothest, fastest transformation she could. She crouched and leapt, knowing she could make the height, and having complete faith that Albus would catch her so she wouldn’t have to scrabble at the edge. And Albus did catch her. Minerva couldn’t help but hold onto his robes a bit with her claws, but she retracted them immediately as she felt secure in his arms.

“Well, now, that was an unexpected trick, Minerva! And most impressive!” His voice was warm in her ear and rumbled against her as he held her to his chest.

Albus petted Minerva’s head and neck. Minerva purred and rubbed against his beard and bumped his chin with her head. How she loved and adored this wizard! Oh, she would stay with him forever. She was his. . . . and she would be with him, wherever he might be, there she would find herself, and only so could the world be. She heard him murmuring to her, words of praise and pride. And ah! He kissed her head, her wizard did, he held her close, she felt his heartbeat, the beat of that heart which held all of her love, and she purred more strongly, giving herself over entirely to her feelings, burrowing more closely to him, her wizard, as he held her firmly, she, safe in his arms. There in the sun she could sit with him forever . . . forever his, forever in the sun, forever with him . . . .

---

Note: Hope you enjoyed this little installment. I am sure that DH will render all of Albus's personal history completely AU, but AU can be good! Thanks for reading!

[MMADfan]

Note: I know I said no more updates until I returned from vacation, but after lunch, I looked at what I had written of the next chapter, decided that it would be a fast thing to finish it, and then I could post everything I'd written up to this point. So here's another shortish chapter, divided in two because it's slightly too long for the system. . . . And here's hoping that the Muse does not flee me after I read DH!

So, on with the second chapter posted today. Make sure you read the chapter "Forever in the Sun" before you read this one!

XCIV: If This Were a Date . . .

Minerva dusted off her hands and looked around. The last bit of their climb had taken so much of her concentration, she had been slightly startled when Albus had announced they had arrived and asked her what she thought. It wasn’t so much that it had been a difficult climb – compared to some of the sheer cliffs by her home, this was a walk in the park – but she had been in a bit of a daze since she had returned to her ordinary form on the other side of the wall.

After getting over the stone wall, they had crossed the railway tracks, then headed through a wood, up a slight incline. The slight incline quickly became a steeper one, though, and Minerva was glad that it was Albus in charge of the picnic basket, and not she. The hamper had continued to follow smoothly along behind them, no matter what the terrain, having only made a brief stop to settle on top of the wall beside the two as Albus had rubbed her head and held her. When Minerva returned to her ordinary form, it was all she could do to keep from blushing in extreme embarrassment. She had let herself be cuddled. Not that Minerva objected to Albus cuddling her, of course – but that was actually the point. She was not cuddly. And she normally retained more control of herself than that, but she had been so happy in his arms, she had just let herself go and given into the sheer joy of being a cat – and in Albus’s arms. Fortunately, he hadn’t said anything about it when she was back in her ordinary form; he had just smiled and congratulated her on her swift, smooth transformation and her great leap to the top of the wall.

“This is spectacular, Albus. Truly.” Minerva was, indeed, impressed. Although where they stood was only slightly above the level of the castle, their distance from it and their height above the lake made it feel as though they were far higher than that. From here, Minerva could see the lake, the school grounds, the castle, and even the Quidditch pitch on the far side of the school and Hogsmeade beyond that. The spot where they had stopped was level, with a few large, flat rocks, and surrounded by trees and bushes on three sides, so it was well-shaded.

Minerva stood at the edge of one of the large boulders and looked out at the vista before her. She could feel Albus come up behind her. For one brief moment, Minerva wished that he would put his arms around her so that she could lean back against him, but she stifled that thought quickly. It was enough to feel his warmth and his magic radiating from him . . . and the cuddle she had received while she was in her tabby form would last her a very long while. It would have to.

Albus’s voice came in her ear, very close and low. “I hoped you would like this place, Minerva. It has been a long time since I’d been here. It was one of my favourite places to sneak off to as a student, and I rediscovered it when I began teaching. It was, for a while, one of the places that gave me some rest during those years of the war. But lately, with one thing or another, I hadn’t made the time to come up here. One could Apparate, I suppose, but that never seemed quite right to me.”

“I know what you mean, Albus,” Minerva answered quietly. “There’s something about getting here, the long walk, the bit of a climb . . . you feel you’ve achieved something when you arrive.”

“Mmm. I thought you would understand, Minerva. Many who aren’t Muggle-born don’t, but I thought you would.”

Minerva turned her head slightly in surprise. “Are you Muggle-born, then, Albus?” Not that it mattered to her one way or another. He could be half-troll and half-merman, and she wouldn’t care, as long as he was Albus Dumbledore.

“No. My mother was a Muggle-born, though, of course,” he said, as though it were common knowledge. “But so many witches and wizards – even Muggle-borns, for that matter – forget the satisfaction to be gained in such things. You are never typical, though, Minerva. You never were.”

His voice was deep and warm, and Minerva could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She couldn’t respond except to nod. If this were a date, she couldn’t imagine a more romantic one . . . not even dinner at Delancie’s. But it wasn’t, and this was her Headmaster, not her beau. Yet she couldn’t help the shiver that went up her spine at the sense of him behind her, nor could she stop her heart from beating a little faster at his words. He did care about her and believe her to be special, still . . . and not just as a clever student of Transfiguration.

She swallowed. “This is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, Albus. Thank you for bringing me.” Her voice was scarcely more than a whisper.

“Thank you for agreeing to come with me.” He chuckled softly. “I do have somewhat harebrained schemes occasionally, and I did wonder whether breakfast on top of the mountain might not be one of them.”

Minerva smiled and turned, looking up at him and saying, “Not at all, Albus.” Her breath caught in her throat. Minerva had known Albus was close behind her, but hadn’t realised quite how close. His face was only inches from her own.

Albus was smiling, but as Minerva looked up at him, his expression changed. His smile didn’t fade, and his eyes continued to look brightly down upon her, but Minerva nonetheless had the sense that a cloud had crossed his features and he had withdrawn from her, disappearing in a dense fog. Then that sense was gone, and Albus stepped back from her. It was all over in less than the flicker of an eyelash.

“Shall we eat, then?” he asked, gesturing to the basket, still hovering obediently.

“Yes! I am ravenous!”

Half an hour later, having eaten her fill and drunk two large mugs of tea, Minerva lay back with a sigh and looked up at the thin white clouds scudding across the sky.

“That was absolutely marvellous, Albus. Thank you.” She turned her head and grinned across the blanket at where he lounged, still sipping a cup of tea.

“I’m very glad you enjoyed it, my dear. That was my entire aim.”

“You succeeded completely, then. I must say, I am reluctant to leave.”

“We needn’t just yet. As you pointed out earlier, we do have the entire morning. I have nothing on my schedule until I am to meet you and Melina in London this afternoon.”

“Mm. Good. Say, Albus, do you have appropriate Muggle attire? Well, that is to say, I know you must have evening wear if you go to the symphony and such, but, well, do you need any help for today?”

Albus laughed. “I do have ‘appropriate Muggle attire.’”

“I didn’t mean to be insulting, Albus, but, well, you have seen what some folk wear. And my father, well, he’s fairly hopeless. Even under Mother’s watchful eye . . . it’s always best to get him in a kilt, if we can. He complains about that, too. But to get him into a pair of trousers! You would think they were some kind of medieval torture device.” She chuckled. “And he never fails to complain of ‘rash.’ Rash that no one but he has ever witnessed, of course.”

“Not to be indelicate, my dear, but . . . is your father possessed of the appropriate Muggle undergarments? They do ease the experience, I find.”

Minerva tried not to blush, wondering whether this meant that Albus generally dressed traditionally beneath his robes. “Umm, I’ve not asked. But if there’s anything you could do to encourage him to wear trousers of the proper size, we’d all be very grateful. He’s performed some kind of Transfiguration on the two pairs he owns, and they sort of . . . balloon in a most peculiar way.”

“Next time I see Merwyn, then, I shall have a wizard-to-wizard talk with him.”

“Well, it is good to know that you have some notion of how to dress.” Minerva thought he’d likely show up with some extravagantly coloured suit, but as long as everything more-or-less matched up, that was fine. “Of course, during the war, you wore that uniform. Do you still have it?”

“Somewhere, yes.”

“Do you know, the last time that I saw you in your Muggle uniform, or in any Muggle attire at all, for that matter, was that time in France.”

“Was it? Yes, I suppose it was . . . that uniform was not worth saving, of course.” Albus smiled slightly. “You were very good with me. Not to mention brave, clever, and all that, which I’ve said before. You were still so very young, but you such took very good care of me.” He had reclined against some cushions that had come from the seemingly-bottomless picnic hamper. “It was quite a relief to have you appear, my dear.”

Minerva smiled warmly at him. “It was quite a relief to find you! Waiting there at the Ministry all those hours before we could leave – that was absolute torture.” She turned back to her examination of the sky. “I think I knew even before we left that it was likely Carson was dead. And when there was no Portkey for him . . . well, I had hoped that my fear was unfounded. But I was so worried about you. What we knew of your injuries wasn’t good, either, and if you had been found by the enemy . . . .” Minerva shuddered and looked over at him. Albus wore a look of great sadness.

“It had to happen in the end, though . . . it was perhaps fated that I would be taken by Grindelwald.”

Minerva did her best not to reveal her shock. She hadn’t ever realised that Dumbledore had been captured. “Is that how . . . at the end . . . was that . . .”

“Yes,” Albus replied quietly. “And perhaps . . . someday . . . I may tell you more. But not today, Minerva. Not on such a beautiful day, such a perfect day here with you.” He sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes.

Minerva wished she could go to him and hold him, but instead she said, “I am sorry, Albus. And you never need to speak of it with me again . . . only if you want to, and I will hear and listen to whatever you wish to say. And this is a very beautiful day, you are right.”

Albus opened his eyes and smiled at Minerva. “I am glad we came.”

“You are welcome to join me on my morning walks whenever you like, Albus. Not that we will always be able to make a hike of it as we did today, but I would always enjoy your company.”

“I will remember that. Thank you for the invitation.”

“When was the last time you were up here?”

“Oh, three years ago or so . . . some time before I became Headmaster. It may have been longer.”

Three years ago, and then he stopped . . . could he have brought Valerianna here? Was that why he hadn’t returned? Minerva wasn’t sure she wanted to know . . . but it would torment her if she didn’t.

“So . . . you’ve probably shared this spectacular view with many people over the years.”

“No . . . no, I haven’t. About . . . oh, my, I don’t want to think how long ago it was, now, I brought Dervilia here . . . when we were still students. Only once. She didn’t like the climb, so we Apparated from the edge of the school grounds.”

Minerva was slightly taken aback. Only Dervilia? “And after that?”

“After that, I came alone. Dervilia had enjoyed the view, of course, but we left school not long after, then I didn’t return again until I began to teach.”

“I see . . .” But she didn’t. She wasn’t sure whether this meant that he hadn’t brought many people to this spot, or that he had only ever brought Dervilia. “Was it one of the first things you did upon your return? It would have been for me, I think, if I’d had such a spot.”

“Not one of the first, but I did make the climb that first summer, before the students returned. It was good to know that my mind hadn’t enhanced the memory, and that it was just as beautiful as I remembered it.” Albus smiled at her. “Some beauty even the greatest imagination cannot enhance.”

Minerva nodded. “It’s a pity you stopped coming a few years ago, then.”

“Time passes very quickly . . . I hadn’t realised that it had been that long, actually. I’m glad you like it so much, Minerva.”

“I do . . . and I’m sure anyone else who has been here would have to agree with me. It is spectacular.”

“I like to pretend that I am the only person who knows of this spot, although that’s quite likely a conceit on my part. But no doubt any others who have discovered it also appreciate it.” Albus gazed at her and said, “It would be difficult not to appreciate such beauty.”

Minerva, slightly unnerved by the intensity with which Albus was looking at her, still managed to ask, “You mean you’ve not brought many others here, then?”

“Aside from the one visit with Dervilia . . . no.” Albus shook his head and looked away.

“Oh! Well, thank you again, then, Albus, for sharing this place with me. It is very special here.”

Albus nodded and said softly, “You’re welcome, Minerva. I am just glad that you like it as much as you do and that you found it worth the effort.”

“Very. Very.” Minerva went back to gazing at the clouds, sensing that Albus wished for a bit of quiet just then. For him to share this special little spot with her . . . it was beyond touching. Minerva wished again that she were just a few decades older. Or even just old enough that she hadn’t been his student . . . but then she wouldn’t have known him, or she wouldn’t have known him as she did. Perhaps their relationship was all right as it was, even if she did wish it could be something more. But what more could she want, really? Or, at least, what more could she reasonably expect? If he could be her best friend . . . maybe that would be more than enough. And this was lovely. She sighed, equal parts contentment and longing in her soul at that moment.

-/-/-/-/-

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

XCIV: If This Were a Date . . .

Albus stood in front of his full-length mirror and examined his reflection critically. Particularly after what Minerva had said earlier that day about wizards not knowing how to dress, he wanted to take special care with his appearance. And he was wearing his best Muggle pants under the trousers, so no need for any “balloon” Transfiguration such as Merwyn apparently performed. He would have to discuss y-fronts and boxers with the wizard. There was no need for Merwyn to embarrass his wife and daughter by using strange spells on his trousers! Albus certainly didn’t want Minerva to be embarrassed to be seen with him. At least not on account of his dress. Yes, this would do. White trousers, white jacket, white shoes – he’d done away with the spats, not remembering having seen any being worn in some years – and a brilliant sapphire blue silk waistcoat with a matching blue bow tie and pocket handkerchief. Not that one could see his tie, of course. Albus hesitated . . . perhaps that was what was wrong with his appearance, why he didn’t look more Muggle.

He Summoned his wand and waved it in front of him. There. That was more convincing, Albus thought. A Glamour now hid the great length of his beard; rather than almost reaching his belt, his beard now barely reached his collar, and his hair was likewise trimmed. It was still longer than most Muggle men wore their hair, but now it only reached his shoulders instead of flowing halfway down his back. During his travels when he was young, Albus had stopped trimming his hair and beard, and he had never resumed.

Albus placed his wand in the interior wand pocket of his jacket, where it was handy, and Summoned his straw hat. He thought that it was still in style. A Panama hat, he believed it was called, although he didn’t think it came from Panama. With the hat on, he was quite pleased with the effect that his Muggle clothes and his Glamour had on his appearance. A wave of his hand changed the hat band from black to bright blue to match the waistcoat. Yes, most pleasing. One other thing that a gentleman of a certain age required. He smiled and made a gesture, rubbing two fingers together, and his pipe and small pouch of tobacco settled in another jacket pocket. And the final accoutrement . . . a quick Transfiguration performed on a candlestick, and the Muggle gentleman was now equipped with a smart walking stick, black with a brass knob in the likeness of a lion head. Albus nodded at himself in the mirror. He shouldn’t embarrass Minerva now!

Albus wondered if perhaps he might not look a bit younger, as well. Not that he normally cared how old he appeared to be . . . in fact, as a member of the Wizengamot, his age was definitely an asset. And there was no denying how old he was, and Minerva certainly was aware of his age, and however old he may appear, his years were what they were, and it was foolish of him to even consider it . . . but his head seemed to swarm with foolish thoughts of late. In his irritation with himself and his foolishness, Albus almost reversed the Glamour, but then he remembered that the purpose of the Glamour was not to look younger, but to blend in better with the Muggles. And, of course, to not embarrass Minerva.

On his way out of the castle, he stopped in his office and retrieved the few other tools he would need to complete the ritual. They weren’t strictly necessary, but they tended to impress upon the participants the seriousness of what they were embarking upon and added a bit of formality and drama to the proceedings. Even Brennan O’Donald would likely take it all more seriously with these props. Albus hesitated as he reached for the door handle. O’Donald was a Muggle – an Irish Catholic, from what Minerva had said. Albus thought for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to recollect the exact location of the other item he had just decided to bring along. He nodded and Summoned it. Definitely extraneous, this, but O’Donald would likely take it seriously, even if he thought they were all batty. It would be very useful for the initial stages, Albus thought as he left his office.

Hurrying down to the gates, Albus realised that he was late. It was almost two-thirty already, and he couldn’t Apparate directly to the flat because he had never been there before. He had to walk at least six streets over from his arrival points. He had fussed too much with his appearance. Not wanting Minerva to worry about where he was, he took his hat in his hand and sprinted down to the gates, heedless of the dust settling on his white trousers and the scuffs on the toes of his white shoes. A discreet charm could take care of them once he’d Apparated.

A few minutes later, Albus popped into the corner of a dark alley with which he was familiar and looked around quickly to make sure there hadn’t been anyone loitering about who may have noticed his unusual arrival. He charmed his trousers clean and his shoes shiny, then placed his hat on his head at a jaunty angle and set off at a brisk pace for Melina’s friend’s flat. A church bell tolling nearby informed him that it was two-thirty. Well, he was a bit late, but he would arrive shortly.

As he walked, Albus thought back on the lovely morning he and Minerva had spent. He was certain that she had enjoyed herself. It had been a near thing for him, though, not to take her in his arms . . . to hold her. It was a beautiful setting and she was beautiful, even more beautiful than the view. When Minerva had turned to him after thanking him for bringing her there, it was all he could do to keep from kissing her. Her cheeks were rosy from the fresh air and the exertion of the climb, tendrils of her hair had come loose and waved about her face, and her lips looked soft and kissable. . . . It was only through the exercise of great self-control and a bit of Occlumency that he was able to keep his emotions from seeping through and to keep his impulses in check. He never should have stood so close to her in the first place. Minerva had even smelled lovely . . . the nape of her neck had been dewy with perspiration and he had been so very tempted to place his lips there . . . to taste her skin, to nuzzle her hair, to put his arms around her and pull her back towards him . . . .

Albus gritted his teeth and directed his thoughts toward the serious ritual ahead of him. For Merlin’s sake, he would be seeing Minerva in a few minutes! He couldn’t arrive with such thoughts in his head – he shouldn’t even be having such thoughts! Albus felt like hitting himself in the head with the top of his cane and try to knock some sense into himself. Of course, he would look like an utter madman to passers-by, but they would be right. These thoughts and desires were not those of a man in complete possession of his faculties. Perhaps he shouldn’t have hired Minerva to teach Transfiguration – he had known that it might be difficult to have her in the same place as he, but he hadn’t imagined how difficult. But Albus also knew that he could not imagine Hogwarts without her now, and he couldn’t truly regret hiring her, nor could he regret spending time with her . . . he only wished that his love for her didn’t also have this very annoying physical aspect to it. Their friendship was growing stronger, and he felt closer to Minerva than he ever had. She certainly seemed to feel even closer to him as well – he doubted he ever would have seen her tipsy before that week. At least not under circumstances in which she would just show up at his door having had a bit more to drink than usual. And she hadn’t objected to his little kiss . . . and he was supposed to be thinking about the oath and the binding, not about Minerva! Too late now, he had arrived. Albus gathered himself together and twisted the bell.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Minerva hurried down the stairs and opened the door, relieved to see Albus there. She hadn’t been worried that he wasn’t coming, but she had been slightly concerned that her directions may not have been very good and he may have become lost somewhere in Muggle Edinburgh.

“Albus! So good to see you. Everyone is upstairs. Murdoch arrived about ten minutes ago.”

“I am sorry I am late, my dear. I am afraid I misjudged the time.”

“Don’t worry about it, Albus. I was just concerned that my directions may have been bad.”

“No, they were fine.”

“You look . . . very nice,” Minerva said, looking him up and down. She wasn’t exactly sure what she thought of it as Muggle dress, but Albus looked better than very nice. Perhaps his attire was more suited to some place other than the centre of Edinburgh, but Minerva thought he looked marvellous. With the exception of the shorter hair and beard . . . . “Is that a Glamour?”

“You mean the beard? Yes. I thought it more Muggle. Is it all right?” he asked hesitantly, wondering whether he should have made himself appear clean-shaven as he had during the war.

“It’s fine! I was just surprised – I hadn’t thought about it before now.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Well, no time like the present, I suppose. Brennan is growing rather curious.”

Minerva led Albus up the narrow, creaking stairs to the first floor flat. She opened the door and preceded him into the small sitting room, which already felt crowded with the three current occupants.

“Brennan, I’d like you to meet the gentleman we told you about, Albus Dumbledore.”

Albus stepped through the door. Brennan was suddenly on his feet, standing straight as a ramrod.

“General Dumbledore! Sir! I didn’t know . . . .”

“Ah!” Albus looked at him, a glimmer of recognition now in his eye, and smiled. “Captain O’Donald. You may be at ease, my boy. I am no longer a General.”

“Major, sir. Promoted before the end of the war.” Brennan grinned, but didn’t sit down. “When they said your name, I thought it had to be coincidence, although ‘Dumbledore’ is not a particularly common name.”

“I, too, thought I recognised your name, but I couldn’t place it, and it has been a number of years. Almost thirteen, now.”

Brennan smiled and sat back down as Albus took the seat across from him. “They have been telling me something about learning more about Melina’s family,” he said with a nod toward Melina and her father, “but I couldn’t imagine what it was – I still can’t.” The Muggle hesitated. “I was somewhat apprehensive . . . but now that you’re here, I’m not as worried, more curious than anything.”

Albus nodded, then turned to the others. “Is there somewhere we may have a little privacy for a few minutes? I believe that before I ask anything of Mr O’Donald, he may have a few questions that need answering first, and he may feel freer to ask them if we were alone.”

Brennan went faintly pink, but didn’t protest. Melina insisted that the two would be more comfortable where they were and that she, her father, and her aunt would take a walk and return in fifteen minutes.

The three left the flat to Albus and Brennan, Melina hustling them noisily down the stairs and out the front door.

“Where to now, oh daughter-of-mine?” Murdoch asked whimsically.

“Just up to the corner and back, I think. I wanted to buy some flowers for the flat, anyway, to thank Jennie for letting us use her flat all day – again! I think I owe her more than flowers, but that will have to do for now.”

When they walked through the door of the sitting room, Minerva could tell that the Muggle – Minerva told herself she would have to stop referring to him as that – that Brennan was much more at ease.

He stood and kissed Melina’s cheek. “Well, the general has reassured me that you aren’t involved in organized crime or anything nefarious like that, Mel, nor are you a member of a secret sect and already possessed of multiple husbands!” Brennan laughed loudly when Melina punched him playfully in the arm.

“I have told you that you are the only man in my life, Brennan. But I’m glad Professor Dumbledore was able to reassure you about my general law-abiding nature.”

“Yes, and he confirmed what you said about him having been one of your teachers – although he was as evasive about the school as you and Minerva were earlier.”

“Why don’t we all sit down and Professor Dumbledore can lead us through this discussion,” Minerva suggested. “I think it will be a long afternoon as it is, and the sooner we begin, the sooner Brennan’s questions will be answered.” She hoped that he would feel reassured. It had been an incredible stroke of luck, she thought, that Brennan had somehow recognised him as “General” Dumbledore. Minerva remembered Melina mentioning that he had been in the army, but so many men had been, and she thought the chances of his ever having met Albus while he was pretending to be a Muggle army officer were slim to nil. But it was clear that Brennan trusted Albus completely, and that would make things much easier.

The first thing that Albus did was draw an old black Bible from somewhere inside his jacket – it seemed impossibly large for him to have carried in a pocket, and, indeed, Brennan’s eyebrows raised when he saw it, whether from its unexpected size or merely its unexpected appearance, Minerva was unsure.

“Brennan, my boy,” Albus said in a friendly but serious voice, “what we are about to tell you is a very strict secret. It is something that some of those in the highest levels of the British government are aware, but it is far from common knowledge, despite the fact that very ordinary people such as myself, Melina, Murdoch, and Minerva, are raised in full awareness of it. Because of this, I would like, first, for you to take an oath on this Bible, swearing that, without the permission of one of us, you will not reveal anything of what we will tell you in this room, nor anything that you learn as a result of what we tell you or show you here, not to anyone under any circumstances. Not friend or relative, enemy or stranger, unless your own life or that of another is in imminent and clear danger. In turn, I will swear to you that what I will reveal to you will be the truth, and I will swear to you that while you are here, I will do my best to keep you from any harm that might arise because of what you learn from us. Can you agree to that?”

Brennan swallowed, looked at Melina, who was smiling at him, slightly nervous, but clearly hopeful, then he nodded. “Yes, sir. This is important to Melina. And if you are here, and her father and aunt, well, it must be something that she can’t tell me on her own. And I trust you, sir.” Without the slightest hint of any further hesitation, he placed his left hand on the Bible, raised his right hand, and said, “I swear that I will keep secret all that is revealed to me here today, under the conditions that you have put forth. So help me, God.”

Albus smiled slightly, nodded, then placed his own left hand on the Bible. “I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, do solemnly swear that all I tell to Brennan O’Donald on this day and in this place will be the truth, insofar as I know it and am able to reveal it. Anything that I am unable to reveal will be left unspoken. So I do swear.”

Thus Brennan O’Donald’s education about the wizarding world began with a Muggle Bible, then proceeded to a wizarding oath and a light magical binding of the five occupants of the room that would allow Brennan to discuss the subject with any of them, but to no others. Albus drew his wand and allowed his magic to become visible as he cast the binding, red, green, blue, and gold streams emanating from his wand and encircling each participant as each in turn agreed to the binding, leaving Brennan till last.

In response to Albus’s prodding, Brennan numbly repeated the words, “Juro et concurro,” and the Albus’s magic swirled about him before dissipating in a final dramatic flash of gold light.

“Brennan, what you have just witnessed is magic. Magic of a very real kind. Murdoch and I are wizards and Melina and Minerva are witches. You are what magic folk term a ‘Muggle,’ meaning simply that you do not possess the ability to do magic. One is either born magic or one is not. Through training, practice, and education, a witch or wizard’s magical abilities may be honed, strengthened, and focussed, but no amount of training or education can change a Muggle into a wizard or a witch. This is the secret that Melina has been keeping. She has recently completed her education as a Healer, which is something like a physician in the Muggle world – your world. And Murdoch is not, as you have been told, a chemist, but an apothecary – a Potions Master, to be more precise – and a very good one.”

Brennan listened, wide-eyed, as Albus proceeded to tell him first of each of the individuals in the room, and their particular occupations, and then to explain something of the magical world that existed beside the Muggle world. He began his own story by explaining how it was that Brennan had come to know him as General Dumbledore. As the man’s shock wore off, he began to ask questions, intelligent, pointed ones. Minerva was pleased to see that as Brennan’s comprehension grew, so did his comfort in the situation. Some Muggles would have become increasingly fearful, but not Melina’s gentleman. He simply became more curious. Minerva detected only slight envy in the fellow, which he dismissed with a shrug of his shoulders – he’d lived without magic for his entire life. It would be like suddenly wishing to be a Michelangelo or da Vinci, he said, to suddenly wish to have a talent he had lived quite happily without before. He grinned and said it would be enough to admire it in Melina.

When they took a break for tea between the first and the second phases of Brennan’s “education,” Brennan asked Melina if he could speak with her in private for a moment. When they emerged from the room that Melina had pretended was hers whenever the chemist had visited the flat, they were both wearing broad smiles.

“Murdoch,” Brennan said, “your daughter has just agreed to marry me. If you would give us your blessing, it would make us both very happy.”

Albus put down the teapot and congratulated the young couple. Murdoch clapped Brennan on the back and welcomed him to the family before turning to embrace his daughter. Minerva thought there may have been a tear in his eye, but she wasn’t sure, given the tears in her own; when Brennan turned to her to shake her hand, he hugged her, instead, and said, “I am so grateful she’s only a witch, I can’t even begin to express how happy I am!”

Minerva looked over at Albus, who was beaming, and smiled at him.

Over tea, they had quite a laugh over the various scenarios that poor Brennan had painted for himself to explain the mysterious disappearances and peculiar behaviour of the young woman with whom he had fallen in love. Now almost giddy with relief, he admitted that the explanation that had passed through his mind most frequently was that she had some other man and that one day he would wake up to discover that she had run off with him. He also considered at various times that she was with organised crime, with a classified government department, or even that she was secretly married. Having been introduced to Murdoch hadn’t helped, since in some of these hypothetical explanations, he had convinced himself that Murdoch wasn’t really who he said he was, but was a friend who had been enlisted to pretend to be her father. The strain on their relationship had grown over the last few months.

Minerva suggested that they wait at least a year to be married in order to let Brennan get to know Melina, the witch, and the world of magic. While both agreed that they didn’t want to rush, neither wanted to wait simply so that he could get to know Melina better.

“I already know her completely. That she is a witch simply explains things that worried me. She hasn’t changed as a person,” Brennan declared.

Minerva thought they were being rather impractical, but forbore saying anything else, knowing that it was their decision and their lives and she could only give them something to consider, not make any decisions for them.

After tea, the stronger binding was performed between Melina and Brennan, followed by the spell that would allow Brennan to see the wizarding world.

“You’ll probably be rather astounded, at first, by the number of things that you notice but which you have never seen before despite having passed them hundreds of times,” Albus warned him. “And although I know that you took your oaths seriously and that you swore not to reveal what you have learned today and what you will learn as a result of this, you will find that the bindings prevent you from discussing anything of the wizarding world with anyone who you don’t know to be a wizard or a witch because you were introduced by one of us. There is another spell that can be performed after you are married that will alter the binding so that you can speak freely with any magical person about the wizarding world, no matter how you come to know them, but even then, you will be unable to discuss the rituals you have undergone today without the permission of one of us. You will, however, be able to explain to a witch or wizard that you are married to a witch, and that should suffice. You may, indeed, find it difficult at first to even discuss ordinary Muggle magicians and magic tricks until your mind has thoroughly sorted out the difference between real magic and Muggle tricks – which are quite fascinating, by the way. It shouldn’t cause you too much difficulty, however.”

Brennan was so eager to get to know Melina’s world – and especially to see Murdoch’s apothecary – that Albus and Minerva were the unexpected recipients of two tickets to a chamber concert that evening.

“I was going to bring Melina – provided, of course, that she hadn’t brought me here to break up with me or inform me that she had five husbands or something,” Brennan explained with a laugh, “but it would be a pity for them to go to waste. Please, take them and enjoy yourselves!”

And so Minerva and Albus found themselves alone in Jennie’s flat, thinking about supper and where to have it, and what to do about suitable clothes. Minerva was wearing a blue calf-length dress that with a minor spell or two could be altered to suit an evening out, but had nothing else with her – and a lady out without her purse, hat, and gloves would be most unusual, even if she were to forego some kind of evening wrap. Albus performed a simple colour-change charm on his trousers, jacket, and shoes, altering them from white to black for evening, but keeping the brilliant blue waistcoat and tie. If the tie made Minerva smile, she made no objection to it.

“A flower, for you, my dear, would make an admirable handbag,” Albus said, removing a rose from the bouquet Melina had bought for Jennie. He waved his hand and the rose was transfigured into a soft silk evening bag. Borrowing another rose, he created a pair of white gloves and a small hat, and presented them to Minerva with a bow. “May I have the pleasure of your company this evening, Professor McGonagall?” he asked, smiling.

“That would be lovely, Professor Dumbledore,” she replied.

“Dinner at a Muggle restaurant? Or would you prefer something in McTavish Street?”

“Wherever you like – Muggle is fine, especially now that we are properly dressed for it.”

“Very well, my dear, then let’s be off!”

Minerva smiled warmly as she took Albus’s arm and left the flat, wondering whether it would be a terrible mistake for her to imagine this was a date and Albus was more than just a friend . . . and she decided she didn’t care if it were a mistake, she was going to enjoy herself and Albus’s company for the evening without worrying about it. Perhaps the day would end as wonderfully as it had begun.

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Hope you all liked it. Shall we see in the next chapter how Albus and Minerva's day ended?

[Hogwarts Duo]

YIKES!!! I am so ashamed of myself. I missed the first update and when I realized it was here I was reading to leave a reveiw and I come back to find a second update...woo hoo!!!!!

I'm going to try to do this by chapters but I might get it all muddled so just go along with it!

It was very nice and fluffy to read Minerva's thoughts on the side along apparation as she tried to sleep at night. The fact that her thoughts led her down a very sensual path is very very encouraging and makes for a happy reader here! ;D Albus' thoughts were great too though the poor man analyzes everything to death haha. He should just learn to love Minerva and accept her love without worrying so much. LOL

And then our dear Albus is such a wonderful person and arranges a picnic breakfast in a special place he's only ever brought one other person. How amazing! The spot sounded perfect and I do hope we'll get to see them sharing more "picnics" there in the future where we know they won't be interrupted once their romance blossoms! HINT HINT!!!

I love how Minerva let herself go and relished in the feeling of being in his arms, even though she was in her cat form. And the way she referred to him as "her wizard"....awwwww! Isn't love grand??? haha.

I'm so glad Brennan accepted the idea of magic and immediately asked her to marry. And I could KISS THE MAN for giving Albus and Minerva tickets for a night out on the town. I hope they'll both relax and enjoy the night and the company. Maybe they'll even buck up the courage to share a goodnight kiss at the end of their "non-date" date.

Albus is such a sweetheart for transfiguring the flowers into the things Minerva felt she needed for a night out on the town. Too bad there aren't more men like Albus in the world!!! AWWWW!

Looking forward to the next update and hopefully a glimpse at what happens on their date. I'm hoping it's something fun, romantic, and definitely fluffy!!!

Enjoy DH and I'll be looking for an update soon!
The GLM

[esoterica1693]

What a banner day in the Potterverse! Multiple updates of RaM and then DH (i am about to head out to Borders now...)

I concur w/ Lamenting Quill's comment over at ff.net--if you were to update RaM before I was done w/ DH, I'd set DH aside to read your update!

In the past several updates their feelings for each other and their willingness to admit them at least to themselves have been picking up momentum--sort of like a snowball rolling down a hill, or a train (the Hogwarts Express!) roaring down an incline. I can't wait for them to reach takeoff speed (to see how many metaphors I can mix in one review....).

I love the 'Gen'l Dumbledore! Sir!' moment w/ Brennan. And how well he copes w/ Melina being a witch!
Also Albus briefly referring to his capture by Grindelwald--which means, hopefully, we'll hear more about that eventually.
I thought for sure he was going to kiss her when he was standing behind her--obviously he nearly did....
And his taking her to a precious spot he's only ever taken Dervilia--hello, he might as well start shopping for a ring now....

Off to Borders! Accio DH!

[MMADfan]

NO Spoilers, but I do mention DH in this post, which I have read!

I also don't even give my opinion of the book, since I don't think I could say anything that wouldn't create a spoiler for someone!

So, no spoilers, not even a comparison of DH facts and RaM facts, but feel free to avoid reading what I do say!

(Okay, that's my equivalent of "Spoiler Space," even though this is, I believe, "Spoiler Free" until the very last paragraph, and even that isn't really a spoiler, but more of a very obscure hint!)

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Well, my muse was not discouraged by DH. I thought about modifying my outline of Albus's personal history to fit what we learn in DH, but I decided not to. I am leaving it "as is" -- it's fanfic, after all, and isn't all fanfic AU, really? There may -- or may not! -- be a few parallels between my version of Albus's personal history and the real, JKR version, but I decided that since I'd planned my story around a particular timeline, I was just going to leave it be and let folks know that it doesn't take into account DH.

So when I'm back from vacation next week, I will write the next installment. I will label the chapters as "AU" and not DH-compliant.

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*POSSIBLE SPOILER* (but not really -- more of a very, very obscure hint)

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There is one teeny, tiny, itsy thing I am modifying in two recent chapters, which those who have read both DH and RaM may guess at, but that's it. If you've read DH, you may want to go back and re-read the last chapter of RaM, and you may or may not spot the difference, it is so tiny. If you haven't read DH, don't reread the chapter. If you haven't read DH, you likely won't be able to tell what I've changed, anyway! In a few weeks, maybe a month, I'll say what the teeny change was . . . And even if you have read DH, you may not be able to tell what it is. If you would like to guess, feel free to PM me, but in the interests of keeping the RaM thread "Spoiler Free," please don't post your guesses here!

[revolutionaryetude]

I want to say I have read fanfiction for about seven years now, and this is probably the best fanfic of MMAD I have ever read. Continue on this is an enjoyment to read.

[Orion's Guard]

So after finishing the book I'm back becasue without fanfiction the cold empty feeling will not go away!

Good stuff here, I look forward to seeing how their second "not really a date" in one day turns out.

[Sensiblyquirky]

I apologize for not reviewing this story till now, though I have been reading it. I am glad to see Minerva and Albus are on the way toward revealing their feelings, though I imagine there will be other obstacles on the road.

Considering DH I am curious as to what your backstory for Albus is going to be, especially concerning Grindelwald, I imagine it will be understandable and engaging.

Yay for Melina's beau to want to marry her and to be excited about the magical world! Hopefully Minerva and Albus will have a great time on the 'date,' and of course we want to see beyond when they get together!

As to the whole Gertie debate I missed: I quite like her and enjoy when she's part of the mix.

Christy

[sevherfan]

I love going back to reread the last two chapters. I think I'll keep doing it every night til you return. After the 4th time through, I realized that these lines:
"Albus was smiling, but as Minerva looked up at him, his expression changed. His smile didn’t fade, and his eyes continued to look brightly down upon her, but Minerva nonetheless had the sense that a cloud had crossed his features and he had withdrawn from her, disappearing in a dense fog. Then that sense was gone, and Albus stepped back from her."
Reminded me of the time in the Transfiguration classroom when she sensed him watching her. She's actually just very good at sensing him in general. But I wondered if you'd ever revisit that. He must have thought it strange that she was so sensitive to himmmm??

The cuddling - such a short little paragraph for me to reread so many times! - also made me wonder.... I need to go back to read because it is embarassing to forget whether you mentioned it at all : does Albus transform? He did write the book that Minvera studied... But did he ever turn into anything in front of her? Did she ever ask what he turned into? I guess I take it for granted that he can. Maybe I'm missing flashbacks, so few lately. I started to think maybe you're doing it on purpose, "we're moving ahead!" or something. But I always did kind of like them. Ah well, here's hoping he turns into something cuddley.

[MMADfan]

sevherfan said:

I love going back to reread the last two chapters. I think I'll keep doing it every night til you return. After the 4th time through, I realized that these lines:
"Albus was smiling, but as Minerva looked up at him, his expression changed. His smile didn’t fade, and his eyes continued to look brightly down upon her, but Minerva nonetheless had the sense that a cloud had crossed his features and he had withdrawn from her, disappearing in a dense fog. Then that sense was gone, and Albus stepped back from her."
Reminded me of the time in the Transfiguration classroom when she sensed him watching her. She's actually just very good at sensing him in general. But I wondered if you'd ever revisit that. He must have thought it strange that she was so sensitive to himmmm??

The cuddling - such a short little paragraph for me to reread so many times! - also made me wonder.... I need to go back to read because it is embarassing to forget whether you mentioned it at all : does Albus transform? He did write the book that Minvera studied... But did he ever turn into anything in front of her? Did she ever ask what he turned into? I guess I take it for granted that he can. Maybe I'm missing flashbacks, so few lately. I started to think maybe you're doing it on purpose, "we're moving ahead!" or something. But I always did kind of like them. Ah well, here's hoping he turns into something cuddley.

We will have more flashbacks! And yes, you will learn what Albus's Animagus is -- but it's got to do with this other part of the story, and it's a bit . . . unusual, so it's waiting for just the right moment to come out. This is one of the few sort of crucial things that Minerva knows about Albus right now that the reader doesn't know about him, but Minerva doesn't know the most significant thing about it, so she, too has something to learn. And in the chapter in which Albus asks Minerva to help with the wards (ffnet chapter 20, "A Special Project," or Petulant Poetess chapter 11, same title) we learned that Albus is an Animagus and a tiny bit about that . . . .

The withdrawal that Minerva sensed was when Albus turned on his Occlumency to gain control of himself. Minerva isn't a Legilimens, but she is so atune to Albus and so aware of his magic that she could sense something change, though she didn't know what it was.

We are moving ahead more -- ever since the Gamp chapters, there have been only a few short flashbacks as opposed to entire visits to the past LOL -- and yes, Albus did think it odd that Minerva sensed him so well when he was invisible, but he didn't think very much about it, knowing that her explanation at the time might be likely. Besides, he's so aware of everyone's magic, it's a talent he takes for granted in himself even though he knows that not everyone possesses the talent to the degree he does, so he just didn't give it a lot of thought. He was worrying about the school and Grindelwald, after all.

I'm glad you enjoyed the last couple of chapters so much! I'm glad I decided to post them when I did (although I actually posted them out of fear that DH would kill my Muse and there would be no more chapters to come!), since you have something to re-read. You might also want to re-read the early chapters "Spero et Expecto" and "Chez Albus." Or not!

I'm hoping to have another chapter written and posted next Sunday . . . but I won't promise because I do have to deal with RL when I get back into town!

Thanks for your comments! I really appreciate everyone's messages -- they encourage me to continue writing the story and to maintain my affection for it, myself.

A little sneak peek at the next chapter: Albus and Minerva's non-date date, then we will see more of Albus and Gertie together, the committee will meet and draft its proposal for Pretnick, and Minerva will come to a decision. We see Quin again very soon, too, for you Quin fans out there! ;D

[Alesia]

Just wanted to tell you that I am still very much enjoying the last two chapters, you could feel their mutual want of each other as they had breakfast. It was beautiful.

I am going on vacation for 2 weeks so if you don't hear from me don't despair, I will read the latest updates when I get back.

I also wanted to let you know I really appreciate you responding to our questions we post in our reviews.

[MMADfan]

alesia said:

Just wanted to tell you that I am still very much enjoying the last two chapters, you could feel their mutual want of each other as they had breakfast. It was beautiful.

I am going on vacation for 2 weeks so if you don't hear from me don't despair, I will read the latest updates when I get back.

I also wanted to let you know I really appreciate you responding to our questions we post in our reviews.

Thanks! Hopefully I will have a couple new chapters up, at least, by then.

And in case I haven't emphasized it enough before, I really appreciate EVERYONE'S encouragement and very kind words about RaM. I'm extremely happy that people are still enjoying this story -- and even after over 350,000 words! (Yeah, I know, the only proper kiss has been between Minerva and Quin -- twice! -- and Albus and Minerva have not even acknowledged anything more than friendship between them, let alone shared a moment of passion. *grin* But isn't getting there a lot of fun?)

There's still a lot more story to be told -- I think if you've enjoyed it so far, you will continue to.

Thanks very much, everyone, including SensiblyQuirky, revolutionaryetude, Orion's Guard, esoterica1693, Alesia, Merriam, sevherfan, and Hogwarts Duo, for reading the story and leaving your comments along the way! (There are more of you, but those are the ones I can see on this page who've posted a comment since 20 July!)

[sevherfan]

Oh, yes, I do clearly remember reading the line from chapter 20, "'Unfortunately, I cannot be both myself and my Animagus form at the same time . . . well, I could be, but it would confuse the wards so much, no tests would be reliable,' Albus finished enigmatically." It is funny, at the time I got as distracted as a little kid - "Oh, there can be TWO Albuses....... whoa....." and didn't even internalize that they were also different species. hehe.

You know, before it was a thought that had just randomly come to me. But now that I know you are intentionally keeping it a secret... IT WILL GNAW AT ME!!!

[MMADfan]

sevherfan said:

Oh, yes, I do clearly remember reading the line from chapter 20, "'Unfortunately, I cannot be both myself and my Animagus form at the same time . . . well, I could be, but it would confuse the wards so much, no tests would be reliable,' Albus finished enigmatically." It is funny, at the time I got as distracted as a little kid - "Oh, there can be TWO Albuses....... whoa....." and didn't even internalize that they were also different species. hehe.

You know, before it was a thought that had just randomly come to me. But now that I know you are intentionally keeping it a secret... IT WILL GNAW AT ME!!!

Sorry! Guess I should have been a little enigmatic. *grin* And when can there be two Albuses at one time? When one of them is a future Albus . . . anyhoo! It will be a while before we do the whole bit where we learn about this, so I hope you become distracted by other things in the meantime!

[MMADfan]

Oh, and I remembered there was another proper kiss -- also not between Minerva and Albus -- besides the ones with Quin! (I count Quin as having two "proper kisses.") Anyone else remember who else got a proper kiss in RaM?

[esoterica1693]

I presume Hagrid & his Meena-bird did some kissing. <g> And Min and Carson did too, way back...

[esoterica1693]

A plus to RaM now being slightly AU: you don't have to deal w/ Albus' mother's strong resemblance to Minerva, w/ her black hair and tight bun. It would make his calling Minerva "Mother McGonagall" at times entirely too squicky!

I wonder if JKR was meaning to imply that somehow Minerva and Albus are related through his mother. Kendra is Muggle-born. We don't know what Minerva's blood status is, though she was most likely raised by wizards. I don't know enough about wizarding genetics to know what the possibilities are (I have seen various arguments about magic being dominant vs recessive, etc), but it's an intriguing possibility. Given that intermarriage is obviously not frowned upon in wizarding circles, that wouldn't necessarily rule out a romance between them, as they couldn't be much closer than 1st cousins once removed. But it's still an interesting idea....

[MMADfan]

esoterica1693 said:

A plus to RaM now being slightly AU: you don't have to deal w/ Albus' mother's strong resemblance to Minerva, w/ her black hair and tight bun. It would make his calling Minerva "Mother McGonagall" at times entirely too squicky!

I wonder if JKR was meaning to imply that somehow Minerva and Albus are related through his mother. Kendra is Muggle-born. We don't know what Minerva's blood status is, though she was most likely raised by wizards. I don't know enough about wizarding genetics to know what the possibilities are (I have seen various arguments about magic being dominant vs recessive, etc), but it's an intriguing possibility. Given that intermarriage is obviously not frowned upon in wizarding circles, that wouldn't necessarily rule out a romance between them, as they couldn't be much closer than 1st cousins once removed. But it's still an interesting idea....

Ture -- that would rather squick! LOL! However, when I look at pictures from the 19th century, most women had their hair up in a bun, and dark hair is common, so it would be a very superficial resemblance if that was the only trait they had in common. I'm just very happy to keep RaM non-compliant with DH in whatever ways it is! And those ways are many . . .

I'd kind of forgotten poor Hagrid and his Meena-bird! Yup, I'd say they shared a "proper kiss" -- or two or more! And, of course, we can't forget sweet Carson.

[pol]

So here I am reviewing you on *another* site! Mostly to let you know that I've been missing RaM lately and that even reading DH didn't quell my wishing for an update. Actually, it occurred to me during DH that surely I should be more interested in what JKR has to say...I'm afraid that your story has the greater draw for me these days. Even more so now that HP has been fully relegated to the world of fandom, but I just wanted you to know that especially for a fanfic, your writing is something truly exceptional.
Of course, I've told you that before, but I was a little shocked with myself to be caring more about your fic than DH itself. Strange times.
I hope you've had a fabbo holiday and that RL won't keep you from us for *too* long (says your selfish reader).
Love Pol xo

[Kayjay]

Hi there

I just started reading your story a few days ago and I'm afraid that was not a good idea...

I loved your story so much, that I kept reading till 4 am in the morning (and that more than once), which is in and of itself nothing bad, of course, unless you're trying to study for your final exam. I have my first 4 hour written exam on monday and all I cared about this past week, was whether I could get in one more chapter before I had to study some more.

So, as you can see I absolutely LOVE your writing, it's like a pre-HP book for me and since Albus and Minerva are much more interesting than Harry and friends I look so forward to reading more of this. I had actually hoped it was already finished when I started, 'cause I don't usually have the patience to read WiPs.

So, here's to you and your next update!

Hugs,
Kayjay

[pudupudu]

This has to be one of the sweetest stories I have read in a long time. I, like Kayjay started reading this story (or rather, 'epic novel') several days ago and have been going to bed as the sun is rising because I just couldn't be parted from it.

Your Dumbledore is simply exquisite; he is everything I imagine the character to be and so much more. You imbue the intricacies of his nature so well within the story that he appears at once fantastical and heart-wrenchingly real. If Minerva doesn’t get a move on and claim him then I will- I believe I may well be in love :-P

Your Minerva too is brilliantly crafted. I have seldom related to a character more than I have her and the fact that I can understand so well what she is going through is just another factor which makes your story so sublime. In fact, superlatives hardly do it justice.

The ‘supporting characters’ too are so believable and perfect and your settings so vivid that the story reads as a film. I must confess myself to be somewhat of a ‘war fiction addict’, as well as a passionate historian, and as such your war chapters no only filled my veins with adrenaline and my eyes with tears but rather paradoxically kept me both on the edge of my seat with anticipation and yet never wanting it to end.

In short, you are an amazing writer. I have been neglecting my university reading list in order to complete this story and I admit to feeling no regret- Dickens, Hardy and Bronte can wait, your story is what I want to be reading.

Please post more soon, I can hardly contain myself!

Kayleigh

[sevherfan]

Oh - good to see I wasn't the only one who was reading DH and saying "when will this be over so I can check for Resolving a Misunderstanding updates and find out what really happens in Dumbledore's past?" I didn't want to go on the internet before I finished the book, hehe. Luckily there were updates when I finally finished.

[MMADfan]

Wow. I am so overwhelmed, I am at a loss for words. Truly. I can't even choose which one of the most recent reviews to respond to first.

Pol, I'm sorry you've been missing RaM over the last few days, but pleased that you care so much about it. I hope it doesn't disappoint you!

Kayjay! Up until four in the morning when you should be studying? I'd scold you in proper Minerva-fashion if I weren't so chuffed that you found the story so compelling! Good luck on your exams! Be sure to get a good night's sleep before the one on Monday. Needless to say, thank you very much for your kind words!

And pudupudu/Kayleigh, your glowing words had me blushing! And I'm very pleased that you liked the war chapters. They were quite different from the chapters that preceded them, and I wasn't sure I could pull them off, so I'm very glad that you enjoyed them so much. I hoped that the chapters would have the effects you described! I am also extremely happy you like my supporting cast, so to speak, as well as my Minerva and Albus. I like to think that I am creating some fully fleshed-out characters with whom the readers can really get involved, and not just two-dimensional pawns that I move around and have do my bidding so that I get the story from point "A" to point "B," if you know what I mean. I have to say that I am actually embarrassed by the fact that you would prefer to read my story to others by those writers you name. My jaw dropped. But I am pleased! Just blushing!

Sevherfan, one of my loyal readers, you will find out what "really" happened in Dumbledore's past! I considered twisting my story around to fit DH, but not only am I concerned that that would wreck my story arc and mangle my characters from how I've developed them, I've also grown fond of the Dumbledore history I came up with, and I find it hard to remember that it isn't canon, despite having been prepared for DH to come up with some kind of Dumbledore-personal-history that would play havoc with the one I had developed.

To say once more that I am very pleased that you are all enjoying the story so much and that you like my writing, as well, would not only be repetitious, but it would also be an understatement. I do work hard on this story and it's nice to know it's worth it. It has a very lengthy outline from which I work -- I started the outline so I wouldn't forget what I wanted to write, since my ideas flow faster than my fingers can type! -- as well as two timelines, one which stretches from 1840 through about 1964 (this story actually only goes through 1957, but I have a few ideas for a sequel -- egads!), and one that just covers just July and August of 1957. I also have a lot of notes for scenes or "revelations" that I want to include, but which haven't yet found a home in the outline, and I'm always revising and fine-tuning the outline. In order to keep track of the characters, I ended up having to create character lists. (Dervilia went through a few different names before I settled on that one -- poor dear! But the others weren't much better!) I sometimes move things around as I write, or add in things I hadn't planned, or expand scenes that I thought would be short but that develop nicely and become longer (the war chapters were originally only going to cover four chapters, but they obviously were longer). I even have backstory for some of the minor characters that I am pretty sure will never come into the story, but which kind of flesh them out for me and help me to develop their dialogue or their way of interacting with other characters.

In short, your praises warm my heart, encourage me, and make me feel that my efforts are worthwhile. I am very happy to be sharing the story with you all, and even happier that you are all enjoying it so much and getting so much from reading it!

I know you're all waiting for the next chapter, and I was able to write some today. I hope to have a chapter up on Sunday. It will be posted nearly simultaneously on the boards and on ffnet, though it will go up first here, since the folks on this board were the first to encourage me to continue writing it. Otherwise, it would have died a lonely death sometime after Minerva, Poppy, and Melina had tea at Madam Puddifoot's way back at the beginning of the story. I'm glad it didn't, since I really wanted to write the scene in which Brennan recognizes "General" Dumbledore, and that was a very long time coming!

So, the next chapter is the end of their second "non-date" of the day -- dinner and the concert, then in the upcoming chapters, we get to see more of Gertie, we find out what the committee recommends about Pretnick, and Quin bops in for a while, as well. I hope the story continues to draw you back!

Thank you again!!!

[MMADfan]

Note: Since I was able to finish this chapter today, I thought I'd post it for you all. I hope you all enjoy it! It's slightly too long for one post, so it's split in two.

Disclaimer: This story is not Deathly Hallows compliant.

XCV: Not a Date

Dinner was superb, and other than remembering not to use magic, Minerva almost forgot they were in a Muggle restaurant. The service was smooth and the food was excellent. She and Albus talked about everything under the sun; Minerva almost felt as though they were just Albus and Minerva, out for dinner. The tension that had been between them since she’d begun to teach at Hogwarts seemed to have completely dissipated. Now, though, Minerva felt a new tension, but it was within herself, she was sure. Her acknowledgement of “It,” of her love for Albus, her intense attraction to him, her devotion to him, and her need to have him close, all that had only left her lost as to how to now behave. When they had seen each other sporadically, it had been easy enough to pretend they were friends, former teacher and student, and that her feelings went no further. But now that she had acknowledged to herself what her feelings were, and had partially acknowledged them to Quin, Minerva wasn’t sure how to act around him.

As much as Minerva wanted to imagine that this were a date and Albus was more than just a friend, she was having a hard enough time controlling herself around him, second-guessing her words and actions, without pretending it was a date, too. She was beginning to read into Albus’s every word and gesture meanings that weren’t there. Every glance from him seemed to hold more significance than any reasonable person would see. She wasn’t even sure anymore whether she should take his arm as they strolled down the street. But she did. It was innocent enough, and having done so in the past, it might seem odd of her not to do so today.

When they passed a street vendor selling flowers, Albus stopped abruptly, startling her.

“Flowers for your lady, mister? None so beautiful as she, but pretty ones I still have for you,” the swarthy, mustached man said, gesturing at the buckets of cut flowers.

Albus turned toward the roses, his hand hovering over the yellow ones, creamy with a blush at the base of their petals.

“Ah, no, mister! For this lady, only the deepest red will do!” the man protested. The short, dark Muggle turned a warm glance to Minerva. “Yes, certainly, for her heart, she needs red roses – no, one single rose will be enough.” He plucked a single red rose, petals still furled, from amidst them all and held it out to Albus.

Minerva had never heard a street vendor try to sell fewer flowers rather than more, and the man’s gaze seemed sharper and more perceptive than she would expect from a Muggle. He rather unnerved her, and she wasn’t sure she liked him.

Albus nodded and smiled. “You are right: none so beautiful as she, and one blossom sufficient to demonstrate that truth.” Generously, he pressed a pound into the man’s hand, then said something to him in a language Minerva didn’t understand.

The man’s smile grew, and with a laugh, he responded in the same language, trying to return the coin. Albus just shook his head, insisting the vendor keep the money, and said a few more words to the man. The vendor looked at Minerva, then made a comment to Albus. Albus shook his head again, looking down with a smile, and responded in the man’s own language, but then he said in English, “Well, my friend, it is best not to hold extended conversations in the company of others who do not understand the language spoken, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, sir! But wait! I have something for you, for you both.” He turned and rummaged in a small wooden chest behind him. “This for you, lady, and this, for you,” he said, handing each of them a small object.

Minerva looked at it. It was a bit of mirrored glass set with a small blue stone which had a natural variation in the veins, creating something that looked like an open eye. She had never seen anything quite like it before. Minerva knew that some superstitious Muggles believed in some kind of evil eye talisman, but the few examples she had seen had always been painted or otherwise artificially created. This was different. Albus’s charm, from what Minerva could see, was similar, but the stone was a blue-green and slightly larger. Each charm was strung on a bit of cheap cord.

The man’s smile didn’t fade, and Minerva did her best to thank him politely. Albus’s thanks were warmer, and he took Minerva’s charm from her hand and tied it about her neck before doing the same to his own. He tucked the charm inside his shirt and thanked the man again, then led Minerva away down the street.

“What is this, Albus? And what was that language you spoke with him? I didn’t even recognise it.”

“It was a Roma dialect, Romani – it sounded to me as though he may be from somewhere near Turkey, although I cannot be sure.”

“The man’s a Gypsy?” Minerva twisted her head to look behind her, trying to find the street vendor, but they were already around a corner and, with all of the pedestrians between them, Minerva could no longer see the short fellow.

“Mmhm.” Albus nodded.

“And this thing he gave us – it looks like some of the evil eyes I’ve seen, but it’s different.”

“They are special. The eye is naturally formed in stone, not painted on or inlaid, our friend referred to it as a naturally-occurring nazar. The mirror is to help repel evil. I have not made a particular study of it, but I did travel some with the Roma, once upon a time.”

“Oh . . . after Dervilia died?”

Albus’s hesitation was palpable. “Yes, it was after that. But several years later.”

Minerva didn’t know what to make of Albus’s reticence. “I see.” She fingered the charm and its cord. She wanted to ask him what he and the vendor had said, but he had withdrawn somewhere within himself again. “Well, I’ll visit the WC before the concert and take it off, put it in my bag.”

“No!” Albus said sharply, looking at her, drawn back into the present by her words. “No, not tonight, Minerva,” he added more mildly. “Leave it on for tonight. I am not particularly superstitious, but I do think it better that you leave it be for this evening.” Albus made a discreet gesture with his fingers. “The cord is longer now, my dear. You can just . . . tuck it in.”

Minerva thought Albus blushed as he indicated the front of her dress, and in her mind’s eye arose the unbidden vision of Albus tucking the small charm under her dress, his fingers brushing her breasts as the blue stone dropped into her cleavage. But she suppressed her own blush, with the thought that she would soon become quite an accomplished Occlumens if she continued this way; she reached up and dropped the talisman down the front of her dress, carefully tucking the cord in so that it was hidden by the garment’s neckline.

“And here is your flower, my dear,” Albus said with a smile, now seemingly perfectly at ease, not a trace of discomfort or reticence in his demeanor. “Perhaps in your hair?”

Minerva laughed. “The stem is too long, Albus, and I think that cutting it without scissors might be a bit obvious on a public street.”

“Ah, but a gentleman is always prepared!” He paused again, and Minerva took his arm to move him out of the way of the pedestrian traffic to which he seemed so oblivious.

Albus fished around in his inner jacket pocket and, as Minerva looked on curiously, pulled out a pouch. He took out a small tool that Minerva recognised from her father’s study, and her eyebrows rose.

“You smoke, Albus?”

“Hmm? Yes, occasionally,” he answered distractedly. “A pipe. Not cigarettes. Disgusting things. And not cigars – dreadful.” Albus proceeded to trim the stem of the rose, and he used his thumb to push off the few thorns still on the short stem, then handed it to Minerva with a twinkle in his eye. “Not really sharp enough for the job,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, referring to the tool which he was now putting back in his pocket with his pipe and tobacco, “but I helped it along just a little.”

Minerva smiled. “Thank you, Albus. I’ll have to check a mirror – ”

“Allow me to be your mirror, then, Minerva.” Albus took the rose from her hand again, indicated that Minerva should remove her hat, and, touching her cheek with his left hand, he gently inserted the rose into her hair just above her left ear.

Minerva did blush at that, both at his unexpected touch and at his solicitude. “I don’t know, Albus. I must look a sight,” she said, thinking of how outlandish she must appear to the Muggles on the streets of Edinburgh.

“A beautiful sight, Minerva,” Albus replied, quickly looking away from her. “We must hurry now, or we will be late and miss the first part of the concert.”

With that, the two set off briskly down the street, Minerva holding her hat in one hand, her other resting lightly on Albus’s elbow, glad of the silence in which to collect her thoughts.

It seemed that with each day, It grew, despite her best attempts to rein It in. His sweet words and actions couldn’t have been more romantic if he were courting her. And yet Minerva remembered Melina’s words that winter, “still the same sweet, gallant Professor Dumbledore,” and they annoyed her again, this time because she wished he weren’t the same sweet, gallant Professor Dumbledore. His warmth and his chivalry only served to inflame her feelings all the more, and knowing that it was simply his nature, that it meant nothing . . . that caused her heart to contract painfully. How she wished she could believe that his words and deeds were especially sweet and gallant for her in particular, that his attentions meant more when they were directed toward her, that his manner with her was different, that she was special to him . . .

But Albus had brought her to his special spot on the mountain overlooking Hogwarts. He had only ever brought one other person there, after all. She had felt so special that morning. Albus had made her feel so special. Then he did it again with the rose. Minerva was convinced she looked ridiculous walking down the Muggle street with the flower in her hair . . . a red rose. She sighed slightly. But Albus had thought her beautiful. She snuck a glance at him as he walked beside her. Surely he didn’t tell every woman she looked beautiful. And the way he had said it . . . she actually felt beautiful. Come to think of it, it was not the first time he had said such a thing, nor the first time he had made her feel beautiful with just a word or a look. Minerva chased that thought away – next thing she knew, she’d be imagining that he loved her, that his gestures were romantic, not merely polite and friendly, as she knew they must be. Yet walking here beside him, she felt her longing turn slightly toward hope, and her contentment turn toward happiness. And she didn’t chase those feelings away, despite her misgivings.

The program that night was a pleasant combination of Classical and Romantic pieces, including two piano concertos, one just before the interval. Minerva enjoyed the music, but enjoyed sitting beside Albus even more. She could feel Albus’s magic flowing through his arm as it rested next to hers; she imagined that she could feel subtle changes in its rhythm as the music changed. A subtle rippling in his magic, as though something were rising up out of deep water and gently breaking the surface, caused her to turn her head to look at him. Albus seemed utterly relaxed, his eyes were closed, but a slight dampness shimmering on his eyelashes betrayed his emotion. His tears did not overflow their brims, however, and when the piece ended, Albus opened his eyes and smiled slightly as he joined in the applause.

During the interval, Minerva and Albus stretched their legs and he fetched her some apple juice.

“You are enjoying the music, my dear?” Albus asked as he handed her the small glass.

“Very much. And you seem to be, as well. That last piano concerto, the Chopin, was very movingly performed,” Minerva replied.

“Yes, it was. It reminds me . . . it reminds me of all of the good in the world, and of the value of sacrifice to ensure this goodness and beauty their place in the human heart,” Albus said softly. “To know that love and human compassion are as alive and stronger than dark deeds, selfish desires, and cold indifference . . . and that there is still room in the universe for the human soul to create something sublime . . . it gives some meaning to sacrifice and suffering.” He smiled and continued more brightly, seeming to shake off his sombre mood, “And it is simply lovely to listen to on a Saturday evening in your company!”

“And in yours, Albus.” Minerva returned his smile. “I shall be sure to thank Brennan and Melina for the tickets.”

“I shall do the same.”

---

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

Disclaimer: This story is not Deathly Hallows compliant.

XCV: Not a Date, continued


The lights flickered and the couple returned to the small hall for the second part of the concert. When they emerged close to an hour later, it was still light out, but dusk was settling in rapidly, and heavy clouds were gathering, further darkening the sky.

Minerva sighed and looked at the sky. “I think it might rain, Albus – we had better find a convenient spot to . . . leave from.”

“Yes, indeed. Would you care to stop for a drink before returning to the school?” Albus asked.

“That sounds nice,” Minerva responded, happy not to have the day end just yet.

“McTavish Street, my dear, or someplace else?”

“McTavish Street,” Minerva said promptly, thinking it would be nice to have Albus remove his Glamour. He looked fine, as he always did, but Minerva missed the long beard and hair – though she would admit they would likely look somewhat out-of-place on a Muggle street. She wondered if he wore a Glamour every time he dressed as a Muggle, or if he had done this for Brennan’s benefit today. She wanted to ask him about it – not that it was her place to suggest that he not use a Glamour, of course, but she thought he would merely look a bit eccentric without the Glamour, and there was nothing wrong with that.

“Shall we meet in front of your brother’s shop, then?”

Minerva nodded. There was no reason for him to offer her a Side-Along Apparition, and certainly not for her to request one. It was a short hop, after all, and she had done scarcely any magic at all that day, so she could hardly claim fatigue.

The two rounded the corner into an alley. From the street, a bystander might think that the rainstorm had begun and that lightning had struck somewhere in the dark alley – but there had been no flash of light, only one sharp crack followed by a softer pop. Minerva arrived in small park near Murdoch’s apothecary and turned to look for Albus. He was approaching the shop from the opposite direction. Minerva waved at him as she walked toward the apothecary. Sudden fat drops of rain began to fall, and Minerva felt for her wand. Blast! It was in her Muggle handbag. She undid the clasp on the Transfigured purse, wondering when, if ever, it would revert to the flower it had started out as, and she felt a small tingle of magic skitter over her. Looking up, she saw Albus smiling as he neared her.

“I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of casting a little Impervius for you, my dear,” he said.

“Not at all, Albus. I was just trying to find my wand.” The rain was coming down more heavily now, and even Albus’s Impervius wouldn’t keep them completely dry if they stood out in it for too long, and the slight creeping damp one got through an Impervius was almost as uncomfortable as getting sopping wet.

Albus took Minerva’s arm and they hurried down the street toward the café where they had once treated young Melina to ice cream on a hot summer’s day. They entered the small establishment, Albus removing their Impervius Charms, and looked around for a table. In the evening, the atmosphere was quite different from what it was during the day, though still cozy. Albus led Minerva to a small round table in the back.

“Will this do, my dear?” he asked before pulling out a chair for her.

Minerva nodded and took the seat he offered her, removing her gloves and placing them in her purse, and a cheery older witch approached the table to give them a menu. They perused the menu together, and Minerva agreed that a cheese board would be nice to share.

“You know, don’t you, that you still have your Glamour, Albus?” Minerva asked after the witch had come and gone again, promising them their wine and cheese would be there promptly.

“Oh, yes, so I do,” Albus said, touching his beard.

“Do you always cast that Glamour when you are out amongst Muggles, Albus?”

“No, only occasionally. I thought today . . . Brennan might be less likely to look at me as a crazy old coot if I appeared more Muggle, for one thing.”

“It was fortunate that he recognised you from the war.”

“Yes, wasn’t it? I had thought the name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. And it’s not an uncommon family name.” He chuckled. “I do wonder what he would have thought if he had seen me with the long hair and beard after having known me as a clean-shaven Muggle general, though.”

“Your hair is still somewhat longer than the usual . . . wouldn’t you be more comfortable removing the Glamour?” Minerva asked, not wanting to tell him that she thought his long hair and beard were among his most attractive features, but hoping that he would lift the charm that concealed them.

“I don’t really notice it, myself. However,” he said, looking around the room and at the few patrons, “I suppose I should.” Albus pulled his wand from his jacket’s inner wand pocket and waved it swiftly. The Glamour melted away and Minerva smiled to see the familiar hair and beard emerge.

Their food and wine appeared on their table, and the two set about tasting the cheese and sipping their wine. Minerva wasn’t sure how he could drink a sweet wine with such nice cheese, but didn’t say anything, merely sipping her own dry Riesling, remarking to Albus that it was surprisingly good, considering where they were. They talked about the concert briefly, then the conversation turned to the subject of Melina and Brennan.

“I do hope they don’t rush into anything, Albus. I know they think they are in love, but there are so many differences between them – I’d hate for Melina to be hurt. Or Brennan, for that matter.”

“Whether they marry or not, Brennan is now tied to our world. And to Melina, and Melina will remain responsible for him until the day he dies, whether they marry or not. That is why I had hoped that this was not some passing fancy of Melina’s.”

“She told me that you wrote to her, asking her all kinds of questions.” Minerva laughed. “I think if I had tried to ask her so many questions, I would have received an enraged ‘Aunty Min!’ from her and a refusal to talk about any of it.”

“Your niece was quite forthcoming with me. Of course, I told her that I could not participate in this without her cooperation. I believe that may have motivated her to withhold any protests,” Albus answered with a smile.

“Yes, well, it is a very serious business. I am glad that you were able to impress that upon her. And she said that none of your questions were – how did she put it? – impertinent? She said that she was afraid you were going ask if . . . um . . . that is,” Minerva stuttered and blushed.

Albus raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Well, if they had, um, been intimate,” Minerva said.

Albus laughed. “That was not a consideration. Although I rather think . . . they are very attached to one another. Quite devoted. It was a great relief to Brennan to learn that the woman he loved truly loved him and that he was not mistaken about her.”

Minerva, thankful that the conversation had not turned toward what intimacies her niece may have shared with her future husband, nodded. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right about all of that . . . and I do hope they are happy together.” She looked at Albus’s brilliant blue eyes. “I just worry that she will have her heart broken.” And in that moment, Minerva felt her own heart crack just a bit, seeing Albus’s warm gaze upon her, yet knowing that the one thing she desired in life was the one thing that was impossible for her to have. Albus was good, kind, caring, loving . . . and completely devoted to the school and the wizarding world. If there was any room for a witch in his life, she was likely already there, by his side. He and Gertrude had been together for so long, and now they were running the school together; there was no question that Gertrude was loyal and devoted to him, whether they were involved in any other way or not. And Albus Dumbledore was out of her reach; even Quin would recognise that if he knew who it was she loved – “the great Albus Dumbledore,” he had called him.

Albus, sensing Minerva’s sadness, but mistaking its origin, reached out and patted her hand, gently leaving it to rest there. “She will be fine, Minerva. And the two young people must make their own choices in this matter, as you have said yourself. But I do believe that their love is mutual and strong. Don’t worry about her.” He squeezed her hand, and Minerva felt her heart pound painfully, its aching throb echoing throughout her body. She swallowed hard and struggled to control herself.

“Of course, you’re right. And I’m happy for them.” But the smile Minerva forced felt anything but happy. It had been wrong to even consider imagining that this were a date or to entertain the notion that Albus might ever return her feelings for him. The sparkles of hope and happiness that had effervesced in her during their walk earlier in the evening evaporated at that moment, and Minerva reached up and touched the flower, still fresh from the discreet charm Albus had placed on it. It was a bud, barely a blossom, and would likely die before it ever opened its petals.

“Are you all right, my dear?” Albus asked, concerned by the expression of sadness on her face.

“I’m fine . . . it’s just been a very long day.” Then, looking at him and worried that he might mistake her meaning, she added, “But a lovely one . . . very lovely. I don’t know that I can think of one I’ve enjoyed more, from beginning to end, in a very long time. Thank you.”

Albus smiled. “I am glad you enjoyed it, Minerva, but perhaps we had better get you home. It is getting late. I believe the rain has stopped.”

At Minerva’s agreement that it was time to leave, Albus paid their bill and they walked out onto the damp pavement.

“Thank you again, Albus. I didn’t mean to put you at expense this evening – ”

He waved his hand at her. “Please, don’t mention it. I enjoyed myself very much. I should thank you. I, too, had a lovely day.”

They strolled slowly down the street toward the park.

“You know, if you’re tired . . . we could find a Floo, or I could Apparate us both.”

Minerva hesitated. She would love to accept another Side-Along Apparition from him. The experience in itself was . . . exquisite, which was a strange thing to say of a Side-Along Apparition, but beyond that, his closeness stirred feelings in her that she was trying to contain and control.

“No, I’m fine to Apparate, Albus,” she said truthfully and smiled. “The fresh air is invigorating, don’t you think?”

“It is, quite,” he answered, and Minerva thought she detected a hint of disappointment in his face, but, she told herself, it was only her own disappointment that she was projecting onto him.

“Very well, then, we’ll meet at the gates,” Minerva said.

She held her purse to her and Apparated away, hoping too late that it wasn’t a mistake not to hold her wand in her hand as she Apparated. When she landed at the gates, she checked herself for signs of Splinching. There was a slight pop behind her.

“All right, Minerva?” Albus asked.

“Fine, just . . . checking,” she answered with a blush.

He smiled at her. “You didn’t Splinch,” he reassured her. “I would have noticed at the other end.”

“Oh, of course. It’s just that I usually like to have my wand a bit closer when I Apparate more than a short distance, and I forgot it was still in my purse.”

Albus nodded understandingly. “Yes, these Muggle things can be confusing, and switching back and forth between worlds – I know some people do it on a daily basis, but I think I would have trouble with it, myself.”

“But during the war – ”

“I had a little mental checklist I would go through every time I got ready to go out as a Muggle,” he answered as they began the walk back up to the castle. “I still managed to sit on my wand once and break it because I put it in my back pocket instead of in my coat. Fortunately, it was my spare and my main wand was in Amiens. Of course, getting it back to London after I was injured was quite a process, since I had warded it there and was the only one who could retrieve it. And I wasn’t up to Apparating that far and had to wait for the Ministry to arrange a Portkey.”

“I don’t understand – why didn’t you have your own wand? Or, more to the point, why did you have two wands at all?”

“During the war, I occasionally carried two wands in case I was disarmed, you see. But on this particular mission – it was supposed to be a short one, and we weren’t going to be interacting with other wizards, only Muggles – I decided to take just the one. I don’t know why I decided to take my spare wand rather than my primary wand.” Albus shrugged. “It never worked quite as well for me . . . . Perhaps it was a premonition of a sort. It was not my normal habit to carry that one in preference to my other, although . . . .” Albus hesitated.

“Although what?” Minerva asked, intrigued. She had heard that Dark Wizards and criminals sometimes had two wands, one unregistered, so that they could use Dark spells and be undetected. She couldn’t imagine that that was the reason for Albus to use a second wand, however.

“I had used the spare at school on occasion, as well. When teaching. Perhaps it was that habit that saved my primary wand from the fate that befell my spare,” he said with a smile.

“Well, you are fortunate, then. Do you still carry two wands?” she asked – she so often saw him perform wandless magic, it was quite incongruous to imagine him carrying more than one wand.

“Rarely, though I do have another in my desk in my study.” He drew out his wand from his jacket and performed a nonverbal Lumos. “This one I’m rather attached to . . . as most wizards and witches are to the wand which chose them.”

Unexpectedly, he thrust the wand toward her. “Like to have a look at it, Minerva?”

One didn’t usually handle another’s wand without permission, and it was also unusual to simply offer it up for inspection casually, as Albus seemed to be doing. Minerva took the wand in her hands. She had seen it before, of course, many, many times . . . especially during her school years when they were doing her Animagus training. Although that may have been his spare, she now thought.

The wand was warm, perhaps from being carried so close to his body, perhaps from the spell he had just cast. It didn’t prickle as her brother Murdoch’s did when she touched it, nor did it feel like a dead stick in her hand, as Melina’s did. It felt more like her own wand – alive and waiting for her to use it. Even her parents’ wands, which she had used a few times, didn’t have that vitality of her own wand. Fascinated now, Minerva ran a finger over it.

“You may try it, if you like,” Albus said softly.

Minerva looked up at him. “I might . . . do something to it.”

She didn’t know what she could do to his wand, exactly, although she of course knew to be false Murdoch’s claims to her when she was a child that if she used another’s wand, she would burn out the core. At the age of eleven or twelve, it hadn’t occurred to her that she had occasionally seen her parents use one another’s wands with no untoward effects – although her mother’s wasn’t very cooperative to Merwyn’s touch – and Minerva had believed Murdoch that it was dangerous to a wand for it to be used by anyone other than its rightful owner. She soon learned that a wand might not respond well to anyone but its owner, but that using the wrong wand was more likely to backfire on the user than to do anything to the wand itself. He just hadn’t wanted her touching his wand.

Albus chuckled. “It might not behave itself very well, but I doubt you can hurt it – unless you plan on putting it across your knee and breaking it!”

Minerva gently swished the wand through the night air and a few sparks fell from it. “Lumos,” she whispered, softly but articulately. The wand glowed a lovely blue. “Finite Incantatum.”

She looked around them and found a round, white stone a little larger than a Galleon. She set it in the middle of the path and pointed Albus’s wand at it. “Geminio!”

Her magic didn’t flow through this wand as easily as it did through her own, but the stone shimmered then duplicated itself neatly. Minerva laughed and handed the wand back to Albus, then bent and picked up the two stones and examined them.

“I’ve never used another wand that responded half as well as my own, but that one – I wouldn’t mind using that one in a pinch,” she said.

Albus smiled. “Well, if ever you are ‘in a pinch,’ my dear, you have my permission to use my wand.”

Minerva blushed, unsure what she was blushing about. Changing the subject slightly, she said, “You used my wand a few times when I was a student. I was always very impressed. Especially the first time.”

She remembered how, during her fourth year, he wanted to demonstrate something to her about organic-organic Transfiguration of a living creature, and he had simply picked up her wand from the table and used it, seeming to realise only as he cast the spell that he was using her wand. He had handed it back to her with a slight apologetic smile. But the spell had been perfectly executed. Minerva had thought it just one more sign of Dumbledore’s magical power and incredible abilities. He had borrowed it a few more times after that, always asking permission first. By her sixth year, Minerva had thought it slightly odd that Albus didn’t simply Summon his own wand from his office where it lay on his desk, but he was her professor and it wasn’t her place to question him – nor to deny him anything. At least nothing as reasonable as the brief loan of her wand for demonstration purposes.

Now, however, Minerva wondered if there was more to it than just Albus’s skill at play. She was about to ask him about his wand and why it might be that she could use it so easily when they arrived at the doors of the castle and were, unfortunately, greeted by Peeves. Peeves usually went into a kind of hibernation during the summer, becoming more and more lethargic as the weeks passed, but he would have occasional spurts of liveliness, and this was apparently one of those occasions. He did nothing more than swoop and laugh and sing a dirty rhyme about witches who wore short robes and wizards who wore none, before disappearing, but he distracted them both so that Minerva didn’t remember her questions about their wands until she got ready for bed later that night.

Albus walked Minerva to her room and bade her a quiet good night, nodding and smiling gently, his hand just grazing her arm in an affectionate gesture, before he turned and left for his tower. Minerva told herself that she should not be disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her cheek or embraced her, or even taken her hand in his. But she was nonetheless disappointed. Still, they had had a lovely evening, and the morning had been even more exquisite, and they had helped Melina and Brennan find love . . . the day had been a good one, and she shouldn’t want more from it. After all, it wasn’t a date, she thought as she removed the cheap talisman on its cord from around her neck and hung it from the corner of her mirror. It wasn’t a date; it was just a very nice day with a friend. Yet as she lay in bed remembering the sensation of his fingertips on her cheek as Albus placed the rose in her hair, the vibration of his magic as he sat beside her at the concert, the teardrops on his eyelashes as the music moved him, and the warmth of his hand on hers as they sat together in the café, Minerva wished it had been more than just a nice day, and that it had ended with a kiss and an embrace and not a nod and a smile. . . .

---

Note: As usual, please don't take this story as your source for any information about the real world, however, there really are such charms as the "evil eye," an evil eye actually is called a "nazar" in Turkish (according to a Turkish friend who once gave me one), they are often (perhaps always) blue, and they can be found in many cultures. Beyond that, anything in the story about evil eye talismans is made up, particularly the bit about "naturally-occurring" nazar, and any resemblance to "real life" superstitions is coincidental. There are also Roma ("Gypsies") in real life, but I know very little about them, beyond the fact that they were among those people who were persecuted and murdered by the Nazis in Germany. They also have a reputation for being suspicious of outsiders, so it would be highly unusual for an outsider such as Albus to travel with them. If you are interested in the history and lives of the Roma, I'm sure there are many sources available on the Web.

[Hogwarts Duo]

Once again, after reading one of your chapters I am left with warm fuzzies, happy thoughts, and an incredible urge to kidnap Albus Dumbledore for myself.

There was so much subtle flirtation and closeness in this chapter that it practically pulsed through the story like a heartbeat. I always love it when Minerva senses the pulse of Albus' magic and how it ripples against her. I think it's a sure sign that she's incredibly in tune with him in every way.

The flower merchant was just too sweet for words and the way they both agreed that Minerva only needed a single red rose was lovely. And don't think I missed the fact that it was a red rose that Albus gave to Minerva. Red roses symbolize love and a single red rosebud means I love you. It's too bad Minerva didn't read more into that gesture.

I could have yelled at Minerva when she stupidly refused to let Albus apparate them back to Hogwarts. I suppose I can understand her reasoning but she's spent most of the night wanting to be in his arms and then when the opportunity presents itself, she turns it down. SIGH! Poor Albus and his disappointed look. He must be feeling as frustrated as I was at that point. LOL

I found the part about the double wands and Albus frequently using Minerva's wand very very intriguing. There has to be more to the story than him simply being lazy and not wanting to summon his own. And the ease with which Minerva used his wand when offered only confirms my suspicions. I hope we are given more details about that little morsel!

As always, you've given us another fantastic and emotion-pack chapter and even more questions arise from the pages. Excellent work and I look forward to reading more! ;D

Cheers,
GLM

*Oh and by the way...the photo at the bottom of your posts...ABSOLUTELY DREAMY! So sweet, so loving, so caring, so handsome...the stuff dreams are made of! LONG LIVE THE TRUE ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!

[esoterica1693]

Oh, great chapter!

Wants to hurl something at Peeves!

I must say I prefer this version of Albus' wand than the DH one. And the way they can both use each other's so easily. Albus has clearly been feeling something special for Minerva for years and known it on some level, if he looked for excuses to use her wand when she was a student. And I'm glad to hear it was a spare he broke on that awful war mission. I remember thinking at the time that it was a shame he'd lost his, since surely it was a pretty powerful one.

Now I wonder what the Gypsy said to him, and he back. And what was he doing w/ Gypsies in his past and why, and why did he close down so quickly when she asked?

Hopefully she'll get more chances to explore his wand some chapters down the line. ;-)

[MMADfan]

esoterica1693 said:

Oh, great chapter!

Wants to hurl something at Peeves!

I must say I prefer this version of Albus' wand than the DH one. And the way they can both use each other's so easily. Albus has clearly been feeling something special for Minerva for years and known it on some level, if he looked for excuses to use her wand when she was a student. And I'm glad to hear it was a spare he broke on that awful war mission. I remember thinking at the time that it was a shame he'd lost his, since surely it was a pretty powerful one.

Now I wonder what the Gypsy said to him, and he back. And what was he doing w/ Gypsies in his past and why, and why did he close down so quickly when she asked?

Hopefully she'll get more chances to explore his wand some chapters down the line. ;-)

Yup, this is one of the things I would have had to change majorly if I were to do it the "DH way," and we will learn more about it. We will learn more about it all. And yes, she will get more chances to explore his "wand"! haha! (And I do prefer my AD personal history, but I've lived with it for so long, it's hard to wrap my head around the DH history being the "real" one. So I don't! LOL!)

Thank you -- and Hogwarts Duo -- for your reviews! (And Minerva will think about the single red rose, Hogwarts Duo . . . tomorrow morning -- in the story, not our tomorrow! *grin* Of course, it will just make her sadder. . . .)