Resolving a Misunderstanding (complete)

[MMADfan]

albusminerva1313 said:

WoW! Great Chapter! They're finally...Together-Together. I'm sure this has been asked a dozen times, but how long do you plan RaM to be? Honestly, I wish it was never-ending...Just curious...I think you do a better job than JKR.

Thanks -- I'm glad you're enjoying it so much.

RaM is set to go through the first week of September. I have no plans to have it go past that, although I have notes for little RaM-verse one-shots and other short RaM-verse fics, and a partial outline for a sequel that would be set several years from the end of RaM, any of which I may or may not write, depending on my time, my energy, and my enthusiasm level.

I'm also working on the sequel to AAoL, and it's an ADMM story that can be posted in the regular part of the board. (It can be read without having read AAoL, which is an MA-rated fic in the Lemons section.)

I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

[MMADfan]

Note: Posted in two parts because of length.

CXXVIII: Romance Interrupted

Albus held Minerva’s chair for her as she sat at the small, round dining table. They had had their “snuggle” on the sofa while they awaited their dinner, which Minerva had requested especially for them. She hoped that Albus would like it. As long as she had known him, and as many meals they had shared, she was still not entirely sure what foods he enjoyed.

“It smells delicious, Minerva,” Albus said as he sat down.

“It’s paella, a fish paella. And we have a salad with olives, tomatoes, basil, and aged goat cheese,” Minerva explained. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Very much! It is certainly something I don’t often have,” Albus replied as he poured their wine. “I had paella for the first time in Valencia when I was a young man, and I enjoyed it so much, I ate it every day for a week! Different sorts, of course. Chicken, pork, shellfish – I do believe my hosts found me quite amusing.”

Minerva laughed and handed him his plate. “There is more here if you like.”

As they ate, Albus said, “You promised to tell me more about your conversation with Malcolm this morning. I gather it left you somewhat . . . unsettled.”

Minerva sighed and set down her fork. Malcolm had come to see her before lunch. He had, indeed, noticed the reversed laces on her bodice the previous night. Minerva wasn’t sure what Malcolm had found most disturbing – possibly because he wasn’t certain either. Minerva didn’t dance around the issue with Malcolm. As soon as the door was closed behind her brother, she said that he had likely noticed that she and Albus were more than just friends.

“And precisely when were you going to tell me that, little sister? I told you about Trudie and me and you said not one word to me about you and Dumbledore – and you two have clearly a much longer relationship than mine with Trudie,” he had said. Minerva thought he sounded injured.

She shook her head. “You don’t understand, Malcolm – ”

“What, that you and the Headmaster of Hogwarts are shtupping?” Minerva had never heard the term before, but she knew immediately what he was saying, and it angered her, but before she got another word out of her mouth, Malcolm continued. “Is that why you were so eager to take this job, then? To make it easier for the two of you? And how long has this been going on? Years? Does anyone know of it? Or is it just your little secret? Gertrude wouldn’t tell me a thing – just kept saying, ‘speak with your sister’! Wouldn’t even give a hint of what she might know or guess!”

He flung himself into a chair next to the fireplace.

Minerva took a deep breath. She really did not want to get into an argument with Malcolm.

“First, there was nothing to inform you of when you came and you told me about you and Gertrude, and that is why I didn’t say anything to you. This is a . . . a new phase of our relationship. I had already decided to talk to you about it, but hadn’t had an opportunity. And we are not as far along in it as you seem to believe – and I do wish you wouldn’t use crude language when discussing it, in any case. How would you feel if I spoke that way of you and Gertrude and your intimate relationship?” Minerva asked, sitting down in the chair across from him.

“Oh . . . all right. I just thought . . . it seemed . . .” Malcolm made a rueful expression. “Sorry. Got the wrong end of the stick there. But when I saw your robes, all done up backwards . . .”

“Yes, and you went with that and didn’t think about any other indications of what our relationship might be like. Not very clever of you, Malcolm,” Minerva chided, knowing that Malcolm prided himself on his powers of observation.

Malcolm shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking particularly rationally about it.” He looked at Minerva thoughtfully. “I am sure there are a great many things I don’t need to remind you of, little sister – peculiarities, you might call them, of this relationship of yours.”

“No, you don’t. And I wouldn’t listen, anyway. I have been in love with Albus for a long time, Malcolm. I already set myself a great many obstacles to overcome, and those that I didn’t set and that weren’t already there by nature, Albus added to. And he is sensitive enough about certain issues, such as his age and the fact that I was his student, without having you bring them up. So don’t. With him or with me,” Minerva said sternly.

“As I said, I didn’t think I needed to mention them . . . however,” Malcolm said, looking more uncomfortable than Minerva had ever seen him, “I do feel I have a duty to point something out, or at least to ask you if you are fully aware of . . . Dumbledore’s past.”

“What do you mean?” Minerva asked sharply.

“It’s just that . . . I’m a bit older than you are, remember, and I’ve heard things about Dumbledore, during the war, you see. A few rumours, you might say. But rumours with foundation. You don’t hear them any more – defeating Grindelwald does tend to make people think twice about saying anything uncomplimentary about a person.” Malcolm held up a hand, forestalling Minerva’s protest. “Please, let me finish. There were scarcely any rumours even at the time I heard them, myself, and I didn’t particularly care about them. It had just been a little talk and some chuckling among a few of the old timers. I ignored the rumours. It didn’t matter to me at all whether they were true or not. Not at that time. Now, though – after seeing the two of you together last night, I began to remember some of them. Where there’s smoke there’s fire, little sister. This wizard apparently screwed his way across half of Europe, pretty indiscriminately, too. Young, old, married, unmarried, he kept the witches entertained. He was a good-looking young man, and he traded on his looks for his keep – ”

“That is ENOUGH, Malcolm Mercury McGonagall!” Minerva stood. “You just . . . just put wood in’hole, you great half-wit!” She was shaking and tears sprang to her eyes. “You don’t know anything about it – or just enough to spread nasty rumours.”

“Minerva, I am just trying to warn you. I think you ought to know . . . I don’t know what he’s been up to recently, but his behaviour as a younger wizard was pretty deplorable, as far as witches are concerned. I don’t want to see you hurt. A Fwooper doesn’t change its song.”

“Albus is not a Fwooper,” Minerva said angrily. “And that, that was . . . was an aberration. The reason you haven’t heard what he’s been up to recently is that he hasn’t been up to anything recently. Not in decades. And as far as a Fwooper not changing its song, should I go and warn Gertrude about you, my brother? You, who admit to never being able to have a relationship with a woman till now, who slept with anyone who caught your fancy?”

Malcolm’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t trade my body for – Ow!”

Minerva had whipped out her wand and now Malcolm was sporting a long, bloody gash on his cheek. He raised his hand to his face and blood leaked out between his fingers.

“Oh, my gods! Malcolm!” Minerva cried. “I am sorry – ” She stood and held out her wand again. “It should have just raised a welt – here, let me – ”

Malcolm looked at his sister with an arched brow, but he lowered his hand and let her cast a healing charm and another charm to clean the blood from his face, beard, and clothes.

“I didn’t see that coming, little sister,” Malcolm said with a wry smile, “though I suppose I should have.”

Minerva collapsed back into her chair. She was still upset with him, but the sight of Malcolm’s bloody face had cooled her anger quickly.

“As long as you are aware of Dumbledore’s . . . foibles, then, little sister, I shan’t say anymore. But if he treats you poorly, I had better not hear of it.”

“He hasn’t and he won’t,” Minerva said quietly. “And he is being a perfect gentleman. Too much of a gentleman, in fact. But I don’t want to talk about it. Just . . . your concern is well-meant but ill-placed, Malcolm, and certainly both poorly timed and poorly worded.”

Malcolm grinned. “Well, at least now I know where you stand, don’t I?” he asked rhetorically, raising his fingertips to touch the still slightly-pink skin where Minerva had healed the gash she had opened in his cheek. “And I suppose that you would know him better than I, at least in certain ways – no, I didn’t mean that way! Don’t get your knickers in a knot! I simply meant that I am acquainted with him through far different experiences, that’s all. I have a fair idea of his magical power, his skills, his intelligence, and I do believe that he is basically an honourable man. Very honourable, in fact. I just worried because of his . . . well, on account of your being a witch in a relationship with him, and being my sister. I’m sorry. Pax?”

Minerva twitched a small smile, but she nodded. “Yes, all right. And he is honourable. He had a very difficult period during a brief time in his youth, and if a few old wizards found only that to gossip about with you, I feel sorry for them.”

“Mm, difficult period – with his dead wife and mother, you mean?” Malcolm asked. “I never heard very much about them, but they did say he went slightly off his nut with grief. Doesn’t seem plausible to me, seeing the wizard I know. But . . .” He shrugged.

“Yes, well, this isn’t a topic for conversation, Malcolm. Just rest assured that I do know Dumbledore and more of his character than you do.”

He looked at her speculatively. “Are you happy, little sister? With Dumbledore?”

“Yes, I am. Very.” Minerva couldn’t help the smile that came to her face. “I never believed he could return my feelings. Then I hoped he might. And he does. He really does,” she ended softly.

“That’s good, then.” Malcolm nodded. “You do seem happy . . . happier. He is a lucky wizard. If he treats you right, and you are happy . . . I am pleased for you, Minerva. I hope the relationship works out well for you.”

Minerva’s anger melted away. Malcolm didn’t have the most felicitous ways of putting things – off his nut, indeed! – but she could understand his concerns. First, Malcolm had felt hurt believing that Minerva had kept her own relationship from him when he had been open with her about his with Gertrude, and then he had been concerned about her, unsure of whether Albus would treat her properly, given the little he knew about him.

They moved on to discuss the upcoming “practical interview.”

When Minerva suggested that she might help him get in some practise, Malcolm barked a sharp laugh and said, “You know, if you had offered yesterday, I don’t know as I would have taken you up on it. I already have one . . . um, semi-skilled witch helping me. But after that slice you made in me, it might be useful. You were right quick, little sister!”

Minerva blushed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done something like that – probably not since she was in school and Dumbledore had broken up her altercation with the Riddle boy before she managed to get off more than one decent hex. She’d still taught the little toe-rag a lesson, even though Dumbledore had been upset with her, warning her again not to cross the Slytherin.

Minerva grimaced and said, “I don’t make a habit of injuring others, Malcolm. I am sorry. It was very wrong of me to lose my temper so.”

Malcolm just shrugged and grinned at her. “You’re a McGonagall – and a Tyree. Grandmother Siofre would be proud. I sometimes forget that about you, little sister, you are so . . . buttoned-up and serious so much of the time. You were a proper old witch when you were just a little girl. I’ll never forget coming home when you were about . . . six? And you scolded me for the inadequacy of my cleaning charms and that I’d tracked mud into the house.” He laughed again. “I can still hear you lecturing me about the house-elves having better things to do than to clean up after an old wizard like me.” He looked at his sister fondly. “But that was back when you still loved your big brother and liked to hear his stories and songs. Then in a very short time, you became impossibly older, and my stories didn’t amuse you any longer and all you noticed about me was the mud I tracked in.”

“That’s not true, Malcolm. You’re just . . . different. And you must admit, it’s sometimes difficult to separate history from fiction in your stories. I liked to know what was what when I was younger. I still do, I suppose. But I do love you, and I know that you would do just about anything to help me, if I asked.”

“You can count on it, little sister,” Malcolm said quietly. “Anything.”

“Then I ask that you be careful with Albus during the duel. I know that he’s powerful, but no one is perfect, and I don’t know as he has as much recent practise as you’ve had, with your . . . pest eradication and such.”

Malcolm drew a small card from his sporran and handed it to Minerva.

“Malcolm M. McGonagall,” it read. “Curse-Breaker and Pest-Control Specialist, Aberdeen, Scotland, Available by Appointment.”

Minerva smiled. “Still, Albus may take it easy on you, so don’t hurt him.”

“I am sure we will both exercise some care. He’s working up the rules, so talk to him. I’ll abide by whatever he puts forward. Obviously, neither of us is interested in damaging the other,” Malcolm said. He touched his face again. “I rather doubt we’ll draw as much blood as you did today. That was some cut – practically went all the way through my cheek. You need to work on your control, I’d say, if that was only supposed to raise a welt.”

“I said I was sorry, Malcolm. I hope – well, it isn’t anything to be proud of. I’d rather you didn’t say anything about it.”

“I’ll try to remember that – now, what about this practise? Are you free tomorrow?”

Minerva hesitated. She and Albus were off for the McGonagall Cliffs in the afternoon. “In the morning, I will be. Could we meet after your meeting with the Headmaster?”

“Aye, that we could,” Malcolm agreed, sitting up straighter. “Ten o’clock, then? Gertrude set our meeting for nine. We should be done by ten. I’ll meet you out in front of the castle – or in the front hall, if the weather’s bad.”

So Minerva had agreed to meet Malcolm and help him with his preparation for his practical interview. She was sure that Albus was going to hire him, anyway, and she didn’t understand their mutual enthusiasm for this exercise – although Malcolm seemed to anticipate the duel with greater pleasure than he did the rest of the test that Albus was planning for him. He tried to find out from Minerva what was in store, and was disappointed when Minerva hadn’t a clue what Dumbledore had planned for him.

Malcolm sighed. “Gertrude seems to know, but she won’t tell me. Just tells me ‘read your application letter, Malcolm.’ She really can be infuriating. But wonderful.”

Minerva laughed. “I have often found conversations with her frustrating. But I am glad that you find her at least equally wonderful.”

“More than equally so, Minerva. She is . . . I never want her to tire of me,” Malcolm said softly. “I am afraid sometimes. I have never felt this way. I thought . . . I thought this sort of love was a myth. I thought . . . I thought there was warm, fond love. Like love of family. And that one could feel it for a woman, of course. And I believed that there was passion, sexual desire and release, something quite separate, emotionally. But I never understood this kind of love. And this need. I need her, Minerva. Without her, I think . . . I would lose myself, just be a creature who eats and sleeps and pretends to be human. I didn’t know what I was lacking until I met Trudie. She sees me. She sees me and believes in me and . . . I need her. I need to know that she is there in my world, that when the day is done, or the job over, or the week out, I can turn and she will be there for me. And I for her. I want to care for and protect her, bring her satisfaction and joy, keep her from all harm and sorrow, and soothe her hurts and grief.” He looked up at Minerva. “You understand this?”

Minerva smiled gently and nodded. “I understand, Malcolm. Completely.”

By the time that Albus had stopped by to bring Minerva to lunch, she and Malcolm were on good terms again and understood each other better, but Malcolm, she noticed, still gave Albus an odd look before he left, and he was clearly restraining himself from saying anything to him. She did hope that Malcolm wouldn’t discuss his concerns with Albus, and that she had allayed them sufficiently for him, but she ought to tell Albus about their talk, at least in broad outline. Besides, he had seen that she and Malcolm had had a somewhat strained discussion. She didn’t want to keep things from Albus if there wasn’t a good reason for it.

Still, as Minerva put down her fork, she had no idea where to begin. She didn’t want Albus to think that rumours about him were still circulating. She had lived in London and worked at the Ministry for over a decade, with a break of a bit more than two years during her apprenticeships. She had never heard anything about Albus’s early life during all that time, and certainly nothing that would suggest that he had . . . been profligate in his youth. She hadn’t even known that he had been married. Of course, that really did seem like ancient history. It was a pity that the rumours that seemed to have survived the longest were those of Albus’s unfortunate behaviour, and not of his sorrow and loss. At least they were rarely repeated now; Minerva doubted that Malcolm would have ever said anything to Minerva about having heard such rumours if it weren’t for the fact that she was in a relationship with Albus.

“What was it, my dear?” Albus asked. “You said you spoke to him about us . . . does he disapprove?” Now Albus stopped eating, his appetite for paella disappearing under the possibility of Minerva’s oldest brother’s censure.

“No, no – not that it is his place to approve or disapprove. No, he said, in fact, that you are a very honourable wizard. And that he is happy for me.” Minerva picked up her fork again and took another mouthful of steaming rice, vegetables, and fish. She didn’t want to upset Albus.

“Well, what is it, then?” Albus asked, perplexed.

“He was disturbed that I didn’t tell him about us when he told me that he and Gertrude were seeing each other. I had to explain, of course, that there had been nothing to tell him at the time. And he appeared to believe that we were sharing a bed. I think he thought we had a long-standing relationship. So that upset him. Not that we may have been together for a while, but that I hadn’t shared it with him sooner.”

“I see,” Albus said. He took a sip of wine. “And was that all it was?”

“Oh, we had a sibling squabble, that’s all, Albus. He is a good deal older than I and we didn’t grow up together, but he’s still my big brother, and he acts like it sometimes. And just as annoyingly,” Minerva said, trying to make light of the situation.

“He did disapprove, then. My age – or was it my position? Does he think I have taken advantage of you? Pressured you in some way?” Albus asked with concern.

Minerva shook her head. “He knows me well enough to know that would be extremely unlikely. And he didn’t express any qualms at all about your age or your position.” She speared a chunk of white fish with her fork and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly, hoping to think of how to tell Albus what Malcolm’s concerns were. She definitely did not want to bring up the details.

“What then? Is it . . . was it . . . did he mention Gertrude?” Albus asked with trepidation.

“Gertrude?” Minerva almost choked on her plaice. “No, except to say that he had asked Gertrude if she knew anything about our relationship and she kept telling him to ask me. Why? Gertrude approves, doesn’t she?”

“Oh, yes, most certainly. I don’t know . . . why did you find the conversation upsetting, my dear?”

Minerva shook her head. “Oh, just the usual wizard foolishness on Malcolm’s part – he doesn’t want to see his sister hurt. I did assure him that you most certainly wouldn’t be doing any such thing.”

“I see . . .” And Albus did see now. He set down his glass, turning it slowly as he appeared to contemplate the jewel-toned wine. Finally, he said with a slight sigh, “I assume that he heard a rumour or two and extrapolated from that.”

“Malcolm knows that you are Headmaster of Hogwarts and a highly respected and respectable wizard, Albus,” Minerva said, placing her hand on his. “He just was concerned about me, that’s all. I found him over-protective, and I made sure he knew it. Don’t worry about Malcolm, really. He was just being a big brother. It’s all straightened out now.”

Albus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked at Minerva and gave her a little smile. “Very well, if you say so. I suppose that we have enough to worry about without my including Malcolm’s opinion among them. If you aren’t bothered by it and have taken care of it,” he said with a nod, “then that will do for me.”

Minerva smiled. “Good. Because he’s fine with it.”

“I still think I may have a word with him . . . if he is to work here, with me, I can’t have him harbouring any ill feelings that I can allay,” Albus said.

“Oh, you needn’t do that. He’s likely forgotten it already,” Minerva said hastily.

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

CXXVIII: Romance Interrupted, continued

Albus seemed amused. “You told me that Malcolm is the one McGonagall who tends to hold a grudge. I would rather diffuse any troubles that may remain. I had sufficient misunderstandings with another McGonagall this summer; I don’t need to have any new ones with Malcolm.”

Minerva sighed. “All right, Albus. It’s up to you. But why don’t you wait until after the practical exercises on Saturday?”

Albus shook his head. “No, that would be worse. However well he does, he could interpret the conversation through the lens of the results of the exercises. No, this needs to be wizard-to-wizard. And without Hogwarts as the backdrop. I will talk to him tomorrow.”

“We are going to see my parents tomorrow – I said we would be arriving after lunch, Albus. You did say to go ahead and make the arrangements, and I thought that would give us time to enjoy the day.”

“Then I will bring him to lunch. Someplace Muggle. He will like that. And we can talk – I’ll just cast a ward for us,” Albus said, seeming to have it all planned.

“We’re practising tomorrow morning, Albus – ”

“Do you think that wise, my dear? You will be careful, won’t you?”

Minerva just managed to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. “Yes, Albus, I will be careful. As will he. Really! And we aren’t doing anything as foolish as a duel. I didn’t see you admonish Gertrude, and I don’t think she’s particularly magically fit – although it does seem that Malcolm is trying to remedy that.”

“Yes, well . . . I just worry about you. And about Gertrude, of course, but I think Malcolm would be very careful with her because of their relationship. He might . . . forget himself with you or something.”

“Unlikely, Albus. But he may have plans. I think you should be prepared for the possibility that he won’t be able to meet you for lunch,” Minerva said.

“I’ll invite him right now,” Albus said, pushing back from the table. “May I have parchment and a quill, Minerva?”

“But our meal, Albus!”

“I finished. It was excellent.” He looked down at her expectantly.

Minerva reluctantly rose and brought Albus into her study. She left him with parchment and quill and returned to the sitting room. She had thought that now that she and Albus had revealed their love for one another, and this evening they had finally made love, things would go smoothly with their relationship, at least for a while. And now he was in her study, after a shortened meal that was supposed to be relaxing for them both, inviting her brother out to lunch. Minerva was fairly certain that her brother would not be interested in discussing the topic with Albus, and she was afraid that any discussion they did have would become heated, that they would talk at cross-purposes, that Malcolm would insult Albus, whether intentionally or not, and then Albus would leave the encounter feeling worse and questioning his relationship with her again.

Minerva was sitting at the table finishing a glass of wine when Albus reemerged, the folded parchment in his hand.

“I’ll just pop around to the Owlery now, my dear! Be right back,” he said brightly.

“No, you don’t, Albus Dumbledore! Blampa can bring it for you. We are having our dessert – with no discussion of anything Malcolm-related – and then we are playing chess. We are going to enjoy ourselves this evening.” She took the parchment from Albus’s hand. “Blampa!”

Blampa popped in, a smile on her face. “Yes, Professor Minerva? May I, Blampa, serve? Ready for your lovely dessert now?”

Minerva smiled at Blampa. “Not quite yet, Blampa. Please bring this letter to the Owlery and post it for the Headmaster. After you have done that, you can bring our dessert.”

“Happy to serve, Professor Minerva!” Blampa took the parchment and Disapparated.

“There. That’s taken care of. Now, come sit beside me on the couch,” Minerva said, taking Albus’s hand and leading him across the room. “Before Blampa gets back with our pudding, I want to warn you. He didn’t hold it against you, and he still doesn’t, but some years ago, as you seem to have surmised, Malcolm did hear something about your brief period of . . . of carousing. It didn’t concern him at all then. And it troubled him only slightly now, and only in the context of our seeing each other, but he was fine once we talked. I’m only telling you because it might come up. And you should know that until Gertrude, Malcolm was completely incapable of any kind of commitment. He slept with anyone who caught his fancy. And I mean anyone. For years. I wouldn’t tell you that, ordinarily, but I thought it might make you feel a bit less self-conscious with him. And now that I am feeling entirely self-conscious about it, I do hope that Blampa arrives with our dessert soon.” She looked up into Albus’s face, frowning slightly. “Albus, I took a good deal of trouble planning this meal. I know I didn’t cook it, and it’s not Delancie’s, but I did try. I wanted to make this a romantic evening for us. It started out quite nicely. Can we try to have it end that way as well? Please? No more discussion of Malcolm or anything else serious. All right?”

“Very well, my dear,” Albus said, smiling. “You are perfectly right. And the meal was delicious. A welcome treat. As are you.” He put an arm around her and leaned over and kissed her lightly. One kiss wasn’t sufficient, and he kissed her again. He was just considering finding the first of her Charmed hooks when there was a crack and Blampa arrived with their dessert.

Blampa set their desserts, foamy and pretty in tall fluted glasses, on the low table in front of them, with a small pot of coffee, cream, sugar, and two coffee cups. After asking whether there would be anything else, Blampa curtseyed and winked away with a smile on her face.

“What a very pretty dessert!” Albus said.

“Weinschaum,” Minerva said. “I used to enjoy it, and I thought it would go well with our meal. It always seems both light and rich at the same time.”

Albus took a taste of his with the long spoon that had accompanied the Weinschaum. “Mmm, yes, very good. Somewhat like sabayon, isn’t it?”

Minerva nodded. “Yes. I used to have this in Germany. A friend used to make it for me. I am glad you like it. I haven’t had it in years, myself. I had Blampa use Sylvaner, which is what my friend always used to use.”

“It is lovely, Minerva. Thank you,” Albus said, as he wiped a bit of the foamy dessert from his mustache. He took another spoonful, then asked, “Was that your friend Rudolf?”

“It was. As you know, he was a Potions Master, and he enjoyed cooking. It seems most Potions Masters I’ve known like to cook. Murdoch certainly does,” Minerva answered.

“I haven’t heard you speak of him in a long time. Do you still correspond?”

“Not really. Cards at Christmas. But . . . distance, you know. Johannes has met him, actually. Robert – Robert Crouch – knows him, as well. They collaborate occasionally. He said that he is doing very well for himself.”

“I see. I always had the impression that you were very good friends with him, though. It’s a pity that you have fallen out of touch,” Albus said, finishing the last of his dessert.

“We were,” Minerva said, unsure whether it would be a good idea to mention that she and Rudolf had been more than good friends. She remembered what Quin had said about the inadvisability of mentioning other lovers to Albus when he was still so sensitive about his age and suitability for her.

“In fact, I thought at the time that you might even be . . . more than friends. Not that I speculated about such things, but I couldn’t help notice the way you mentioned him in your letters seemed . . . familiar,” Albus said, genuinely curious, but not wanting to pry, either.

“Yes, well, we were. But it couldn’t have worked out,” Minerva said, feeling awkward.

“No?” Albus asked.

“No,” Minerva said quietly. “I couldn’t have stayed there and never have seen you again. I didn’t think you would ever be in love with me, but . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of being away from you. And I didn’t love Rudolf enough. It wouldn’t have been right for him, even if I had managed to force myself to stay.”

Albus’s eyebrows rose. “You . . . you were in love with me then?” It seemed hubris to suggest it, that Minerva had been in love with him for so long, when she was such a fresh, young, vibrant witch, barely yet embarked upon her adult life, but he had to ask.

Minerva nodded and spooned the last drops of Weinschaum from the bottom of her glass. “Yes,” she said simply.

Albus knit his brow. “But we hadn’t seen each other in more than a year when your apprenticeship ended.”

“It would take more than a year for me to fall out of love with you, Albus, more than a decade, more than a lifetime,” Minerva said softly, taking his hand. “I could never fall in love with anyone else when my heart is so filled with you, when you hold my heart as you have for so long, even not knowing that you did.”

Albus put his arms around Minerva and held her close to him. Finally, he whispered, “For so long . . .”

Minerva nodded. “It’s embarrassing, really, but I couldn’t help myself. I even tried, early on, to distract myself, to convince myself that it was nothing more than a crush, that it would pass. But it never did, and nothing I could do would diminish my feelings for you, they simply grew stronger. I would sometimes feel less . . . less desperate about it, but then something would remind me of you, or I would receive an owl from you, and I would realise that my feelings for you were just as strong, or stronger, and that no amount of time, distance, or distraction would ever rid me of them. It was so hard, loving you for so long and believing that it was impossible for us to be anything more than friends. I did try to content myself with that, though. And I was so hopeful when I arrived at Hogwarts in December that we would become better friends, but you avoided me. That was why I was so upset that day in Poppy’s office. She said it then, that she didn’t think it was just about wanting your respect, but I pretended I had no clue what else it could be about.”

Albus kissed the top of Minerva’s head. “She knows, then?”

Minerva thought a moment. “I don’t know. I am not sure. It could be that she guesses, or that she thinks it might be a possibility that I love you. But she hasn’t said. She is quite discreet, and she wouldn’t want to embarrass me if it weren’t the case, or if it were but I wasn’t prepared to admit it. Which I wasn’t. Not until very recently. But I always thought that Poppy would think . . . that she would think it was something other than love. Infatuation or physical attraction, but not this deep and abiding love I have for you.” She tried to snuggle closer into Albus’s embrace, and he put a hand under her and lifted her fully onto his lap.

They sat like that for a while, Minerva’s embarrassment at her revelation ebbing away to nothing. She was still not prepared to tell Albus precisely how long she had loved him, though now he knew that it was before her second apprenticeship began. Someday, she would tell him how she came to realise that she was in love with him, and the violence with which the realisation struck her, and the fear and despair that had accompanied it. But not yet.

Finally, Albus said, “I don’t know precisely when I began to love you as something more than the bright, precocious, warm-hearted child you once were. My feelings for you even when you were a student were deep, though. I had paid attention to you and your magical abilities as soon as I began to teach you, of course, as I was curious about the witch who wielded the mate to my wand, but my affection for you grew as I came to know you. You were a treasure then, Minerva, and you still are. But it was . . . it was sometime after you left school that I fell in love with you. My feelings were very strong for you even when you rescued me in France, when Carson died, but I was not yet in love with you, I think. But I was on the brink . . . perhaps if, that day when I came to deliver Carson’s letter, my behaviour had driven a permanent wedge between us, I would simply have mourned the loss of a potentially deep friendship. I do not know. But over the intervening years . . . something changed. It was as though my feelings all . . . coalesced, came into alignment. I think that I had a moment of realisation after your Challenge. A moment when I realised that I was in love with you.” Albus swallowed, closing his eyes. “But I put it out of my mind. I ignored it entirely, and I refused to even acknowledge the truth of that momentary realisation. Indeed, it was at that time when I decided it might be a good thing for me to find a witch to court. I wasn’t thinking explicitly that I was looking for a substitute for you, particularly as I would not even acknowledge to myself that you were anything other than a beloved former student to me. Yet it seemed to me, I think, that if I was beginning to have the stirrings of romantic feelings for you, it might be time for me to seek romance again. But I . . . I came to believe that it was too late for that. And then a few years later, Valerianna showed an interest in me. It was foolish of me to believe that her interest was genuine or that courting her would rid me of my uncomfortable and inappropriate attachment to you. But I think that a good part of the reason I began to see her was that I was unwilling to acknowledge my feelings for you. I thought that being with someone else would . . . would fix what I was feeling. But it couldn’t be fixed because it wasn’t wrong.”

Minerva turned her head and kissed Albus, drawing his lips between hers. “Mmm,” she murmured, kissing him again, then saying, “We are having no more serious conversation this evening but this: I love you. You love me. You told me. I told you. We have begun exploring my interesting idea, and we can continue exploring it . . . for the rest . . . of our . . . lives.” She punctuated her point with a few kisses and was pleased when Albus responded to her kisses, caressing her breast through the robe then reaching around her with his other hand to find her Charmed hooks. Before he could deactivate the charm, however, there was a hoot and a Scops Owl flew in through the open bedroom door and landed on the back of the sofa behind Albus’s head.

Minerva sighed. “We can’t escape interruptions tonight, can we?”

Albus shook his head, but then chuckled ruefully. “There are days like that, I suppose.”

Minerva sat up and took the little owl’s delivery from him, then she Summoned some owl treats from her study and sent them to Albus to feed the little fellow as she looked at the parchments.

“There’s one for each of us,” Minerva said, handing Albus his note then opening her own.

“Your brother has declined my offer of a meal in a Muggle restaurant and has invited me to join him at his flat for lunch. He suggests we meet at the gates at noon,” Albus said.

“Yes, well, Gertrude said that since we are both on our own tomorrow, we should have lunch together in her sitting room,” Minerva said. “I suppose I will go. I haven’t seen her in a while, and she’s likely curious . . . or she wants to talk about Malcolm, or both.”

“Good, so that’s settled.” Albus took Minerva’s letter from her and put it on the end table with his.

“Chess?” Minerva suggested.

Albus nodded and picked up the chess set. “Shall we use that table?” he asked, gesturing at the table that had held the remains of their dinner until Blampa had removed it.

Minerva waved her wand and removed the linens from the table, then flicked it and a chessboard appeared in the centre of the table. One more flick, and the table was slightly smaller and more comfortable for playing. Albus set up the pieces, asking Minerva which she wanted, black or white.

“I don’t seem to be doing very well with black, but I will stick with that, unless you would prefer to take it. You won the last game. It’s your choice,” Minerva answered.

Albus sat down behind the white pieces, and Minerva took up her place on the other side of the board. They played in silence for a while, Minerva determined to at least put up more of a fight this time.

“What about Egypt?” Albus asked suddenly.

“What about Egypt?” Minerva asked distractedly, trying to take in the whole board.

“For our holiday.”

“Check. I don’t know . . . maybe.”

“I have friends there. It’s an interesting country. Malcolm recently brought Gertrude there, and she enjoyed it immensely. Fulfilled a life-long dream of hers.”

“Check,” Minerva said again. “It sounds . . . interesting. Do you know of somewhere private we could stay?”

“I usually stay with either one of two friends there, one of whom is the Curator for Magical Antiquities in Cairo. I am certain he and his family would be happy to – ”

“No. Check. No, I don’t want to stay with family friends. Or friends of yours. Or friends of mine. Or family of any kind. Check and mate!” she said triumphantly.

“Oh. Well, there are wizarding inns . . . ” Albus said as he looked at the board. “Very good game, Minerva! Very good, indeed. There is a very nice wizarding inn right near Abu Simbel. Small, and they wouldn’t mind if we were, um, together. Wouldn’t say anything or ask any awkward questions.”

“I want to avoid even avoiding awkward questions, Albus,” Minerva said with a sigh, taking the white pieces and setting them up on her side of the board. “I don’t want to stay where there are other people. I want something quiet where we can just be together. While I think it would be fascinating to visit Egypt someday, that isn’t the sort of holiday I had in mind.” Her shoulders slumped. “We should just forget it. Stay here. At least we occasionally have privacy here, even though more staff will be returning.” She moved out her queen’s pawn.

“No, I do think it is a good idea, my dear,” Albus said, reaching over and patting her hand. “I do want to go away with you a few days. I will think of something else.”

“Where did Malcolm and Gertrude stay, do you know?” Minerva asked.

“They camped. Yes, I know,” Albus said in reaction to Minerva’s expression. “It seems I’m not the only one with barmy ideas sometimes.”

“Camping . . . I guess that would provide privacy. We could do that,” Minerva said, but not sounding very enthusiastic about the idea.

Albus shook his head. “No, we want something more comfortable than that, don’t we?”

“Yes . . . I suppose we could stay at Melina’s,” Minerva said dispiritedly. “They’ll be gone all week. I have a room there. But I don’t like the idea of staying in their new home before they have even shared it together. And Edinburgh is hardly what I had in mind . . . I’d really prefer going to your cottage. You said it was on its own little island. It just seemed perfect when I thought of it.”

Albus took her hand in his. “Let me just think about it, all right, my dear? We needn’t decide anything this moment. We aren’t leaving until Sunday or so anyway.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the centre of her palm, closing his eyes and kissing it again, his lips lingering. “I love you so very much, Minerva,” he said softly, “so very, very much.” He looked at her over her fingers as they curled around his. “We will have a perfect holiday, or as close to perfect as possible. I promise.”

Minerva smiled and squeezed his hand. She nodded. “All right. All right, I trust you on that.”

After twenty more minutes of playing, they decided that neither of them would be able to win the game, and they declared it a draw.

“Would you like a drink?” Minerva offered. “Or tea?”

“I should be going soon, but a cup of tea might be welcome,” Albus replied as he settled the chessmen back in their box.

“Do you really need to go?” Minerva asked as she stood to get their tea. “Can’t you stay?”

“I have a meeting tomorrow at nine, and I must admit to being rather tired.”

Minerva sighed. She had been after him not to keep such late hours. “But you could still stay . . . here. Then we could have breakfast together and you could go to your meeting.”

Albus moved over to the sofa. “No, I . . . would prefer not,” he said uncomfortably.

“But – ”

“It . . . it isn’t the right time, Minerva, my dear,” Albus said softly.

“Right, not the right time,” Minerva said curtly. “I’ll just get our tea then.”

“Minerva – ”

Minerva stood in the kitchen, getting the tea things together, when she felt Albus behind her.

“I’m managing. It’ll just be a tick,” Minerva said, not turning.

Albus put his arms around her, placing one hand on her stomach and one caressing upward to her breasts. He kissed her hair. “I love you, Minerva. But as much as it would be . . . more than pleasant to stay, we have time, you know. And we will be going away together in a few days.”

“Separate bedrooms, though. Is that why you want to stay in those inns and pensions and other people’s homes?” Minerva asked, an edge in her voice.

“No, no, Minerva, no . . .” Albus turned her and kissed her, first her mouth then the lids of her closed eyes. “That is what I want to wait for . . . I want it to be romantic, perfect and romantic for you, my beloved Minerva.”

“It is spending the night together, next to each other – ”

“It is more than that, my love. I want to court you . . . I should have been stronger tonight, but I don’t regret that I wasn’t. Despite that, I still . . . I still . . . I need to be able to romance you,” he said very softly.

Minerva opened her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, then she reached up and caressed him, letting her hand come to rest on his bearded jaw. She smiled and nodded. They each had their needs, and his could come first at this moment.

“I love you, Albus,” she said before kissing him softly and then leaning against him. “And you are very romantic. I love the earrings. You know, when I bought the necklace, I was thinking of you. It looked to me as though there were two bees caught in the amber. I don’t know what they really are, but I was missing you terribly that day, and I saw the necklace and thought of you. So the earrings are very special to me. Thank you.”

Albus sighed and closed his eyes as he held Minerva. “I should have waited until this evening to give them to you. Made it more special, more memorable. Not just handed them to you in my office after lunch. I am sorry if I have done everything wrong today.”

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. Here, give me another kiss?” she said, looking up at him.

He kissed her gently on the mouth, then he smiled at her. “Being with you is lovely, so very wonderful. And I do promise you a holiday you will remember, a romantic holiday, one that we both will enjoy.”

“Come, let’s have our tea so you can get to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight. And don’t forget your Vitamin Potion!” Minerva said, drawing back and looking up with a smile.

“Yes, Mother McGonagall. I will remember my Vitamin Potion,” Albus said. “Let me get the tray for you, my dear. What is the tea tonight?”

“A blend my mother makes. Black currant and mint, mainly,” Minerva answered. “You know, I never did tell her whether we were staying the night or not. I assumed we wouldn’t, but if you would like to . . .”

“I don’t know. Would you like to, my dear? I am sure it won’t matter to Gertrude whether we return that night or in the morning. I do have a great deal to do on Thursday, though, since your niece’s wedding is on Friday, then Saturday will be quite full, and then we will be leaving for a few days. I couldn’t stay for the day on Thursday.”

“I don’t know. I am of two minds about it, myself. We could just decide tomorrow, after we’re there. I am sure that Mother and Dad could provide you with anything you might need for the night.”

They sat on the sofa and drank their tea, discussing their plans for the next day, until Albus couldn’t suppress a yawn.

“You should get to bed, Albus,” Minerva said, taking his hand.

He nodded. “I am reluctant to leave, but I will see you tomorrow. Would you care to come for breakfast? Eight o’clock?”

Minerva agreed, and she let Albus out the door after giving him one more kiss and wishing him sweet dreams. As much as she wished he would stay, it was, paradoxically, easier to see him leave now that they had declared their love. He would be waiting for her in the morning, still loving her, and she could greet him with a kiss . . . which might lead to more. Perhaps on his couch next time. Minerva smiled and extinguished the sitting room lamps. Morning was just around the corner.

---

Note: Glad everyone is enjoying the way the story is progressing! This was a quiet little chapter, but the next few Hold onto your hats!

[Hogwarts Duo]

Ack, I think I found myself just as frustrated as Minerva in this chapter. The poor witch just can’t seem to catch a break from anybody. And to think it all started with her chat with her big brother.

And speaking of Malcolm…if he’s not the pot calling the kettle black! Given his history with women, I’d think he’d be the last person to throw stones at anyone else. But I am glad Minerva put him in his place.

This wizard apparently screwed his way across half of Europe, pretty indiscriminately, too. Young, old, married, unmarried, he kept the witches entertained. He was a good-looking young man, and he traded on his looks for his keep – ”

I was really surprised to hear Malcolm talk about Albus in such a way. I know he’s trying to be the big brother here but it’s not as if Malcolm hasn’t had his share of conquests…as Minerva pointed out so bluntly…

And as far as a Fwooper not changing its song, should I go and warn Gertrude about you, my brother? You, who admit to never being able to have a relationship with a woman till now, who slept with anyone who caught your fancy?”

Malcolm’s eyes flashed. “I didn’t trade my body for – Ow!”

Minerva had whipped out her wand and now Malcolm was sporting a long, bloody gash on his cheek. He raised his hand to his face and blood leaked out between his fingers.

I think Malcolm deserved the dressing down he received from Minerva, though I was a bit surprised that her anger produced a gash instead of just a mark as she had intended. I suppose her anger and defense of Albus got the better of her but at least she mended the wound. I bet he won’t be so quick to talk poorly of Albus in the future.

Malcolm’s description of love for Gertie was beautiful. It was if the man who had just warned his little sister about falling in love with a wizard who’d “been around” was gone and was replaced by a more poetic version of the same wizard. It was lovely how he described wanting to take care of Gertie and then at the end when he asked Minerva if she understood, only to be reassured that she did. Maybe now he’ll see that his situation isn’t so different from that of Albus and Minerva’s.

“What then? Is it . . . was it . . . did he mention Gertrude?” Albus asked with trepidation.

Ack…I was almost positive that Albus was going to tell Minerva about his time spent with Gertie ages ago. And then Minerva later in the chapter tells Albus about her time with Rudlof. It’s good that they’re sharing bits and pieces of their pasts.

I so wanted to smack Albus on the back of the head when he abruptly ended dinner to go write Malcolm a letter to invite him to lunch. And then he made matters worse by attempting to go post the letter himself. It was almost as if he was ready to leave Minerva’s dinner, which I know had to hurt. I would have been hurt, for sure.

Minerva sighed. “We can’t escape interruptions tonight, can we?”

Poor Minerva. She’s really having a hard time of it and I’m surprised she hasn’t been dissolved to tears by now. Given that she’s tried to plan a romantic evening only to have it interrupted by either Blampa, the owl, or serious chats, I feel incredibly sorry for her.

“I want to avoid even avoiding awkward questions, Albus,” Minerva said with a sigh, taking the white pieces and setting them up on her side of the board. “I don’t want to stay where there are other people. I want something quiet where we can just be together. While I think it would be fascinating to visit Egypt someday, that isn’t the sort of holiday I had in mind.” Her shoulders slumped. “We should just forget it. Stay here. At least we occasionally have privacy here, even though more staff will be returning.” She moved out her queen’s pawn.

Huggles for Minerva. She’s trying so hard to be romantic and spend a few uninterrupted days with Albus and he’s being so reluctant. It would make things so much easier if he’d just explain his reasons to her for not wanting to go to his cottage instead of continuing to shoot down all her ideas. Honestly, I could see a bit of myself in Minerva’s actions here. I would have reacted as she did…forget it, we’ll just stay here and pray we’re not interrupted by your work.

I’m glad he did try to make things better in the end. It might have been nice for Minerva if he’d stayed the night but I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Albus to return to his own rooms alone. I’m looking forward to the lunches tomorrow as well as the trip to Minerva’s parents house. Perhaps they’ll have a few moments alone while there and things will be better for them.

Thanks for the quick update and I will be anxiously awaiting the next one.

Cheers,
GLM

[esoterica1693]

I'm too hungry and tired to review coherently right now--very good chapter, as always, though.

I must say that after a day spent almost entirely in or at church for worship & various meetings, I mis-read the following sentence by Hogwarts Duo:

" I would have reacted as she did…forget it, we’ll just stay here and pray we’re not interrupted by your work. "

to be:

"forget it, we'll just stay here and pray--we're not interrupted by your work."

and thought to myself--"Stay here and *pray*?! I didn't think prayer was what you had in mind for your holiday, Minerva!"

(Except maybe for the occasional "Oh, gods, oh gods, Albus, my Albus!" ;-) )

[MMADfan]

esoterica1693 said:

I'm too hungry and tired to review coherently right now--very good chapter, as always, though.

I must say that after a day spent almost entirely in or at church for worship & various meetings, I mis-read the following sentence by Hogwarts Duo:

" I would have reacted as she did…forget it, we’ll just stay here and pray we’re not interrupted by your work. "

to be:

"forget it, we'll just stay here and pray--we're not interrupted by your work."

and thought to myself--"Stay here and *pray*?! I didn't think prayer was what you had in mind for your holiday, Minerva!"

(Except maybe for the occasional "Oh, gods, oh gods, Albus, my Albus!" ;-) )

I'm still chuckling over that! I am sure that everyone from Hogwarts Duo to Minerva and Albus would be very disappointed if they spent their holiday in quiet prayer at Hogwarts! haha!

[esoterica1693]

Well, now that I think about it, if Bernini is to be believed, St Teresa of Avila found prayer to be a rather, umm, climatic experience!
www.boglewood.com/cornaro/xteresa.html
;D

[MMADfan]

esoterica1693 said:

Well, now that I think about it, if Bernini is to be believed, St Teresa of Avila found prayer to be a rather, umm, climatic experience!
www.boglewood.com/cornaro/xteresa.html
;D

A number of religions have brought sexual ecstasy and spiritual ecstasy together. ;D

[dianahawthorne]

It would be cool if Albus and Minerva went to Egypt - I'm actually going this summer (and, incidentally, going to Abu Simbel as well as Cairo, Luxor, and other touristy spots), although I haven't really decided where I'd rather them go (Albus's cottage or Egypt!) Great chapter, as always, and I hope we get an update soon!

[MMADfan]

Note: Posted in two parts because of length.

CXLVIII: A Mercurial McGonagall

Minerva paced in front of the great oak doors. The weather was fine, if somewhat windy that day, so she was awaiting Malcolm outside. It wasn’t quite ten o’clock yet, but she had taken a walk while the others had their meeting, and so had arrived back too late to go back to Gryffindor Tower but too early for Malcolm to have come down yet. She had given some thought to how she might help Malcolm practise, and she hoped he had some ideas about it, as she had only come up with casting spells and having him block them. Which didn’t seem particularly innovative.

Minerva turned when she heard the door open behind her.

“Good morning, little sister! How are you on this fine day?” her brother asked as he trotted down the steps.

“Good – I hope the meeting went well?” she replied.

“Just peaches! That Flitwick is a fine fellow. I now have the rules for the duel,” Malcolm said cheerily, leading Minerva around back of the castle, “but still not a clue as to what Dumbledore has planned beforehand.”

“I’m sure it will be something you are equal to,” Minerva said. “I get the sense – from both of you – that this is more of a game than a qualifying exam, so don’t worry too much about it.”

“I don’t worry. Well, not much,” he said with a grin.

“Where are we off to at such a pace?” Minerva asked. Her brother had longer legs than she, and she was practically running to keep up.

“Quidditch pitch. It’s where the duel will be. Dumbledore didn’t say where the rest of it would take place, but I got the impression it wasn’t to be on the Quidditch pitch. We’ll see!”

They entered the Quidditch stadium, and Minerva was suddenly unaccountably nervous. A peculiar sort of stage fright came over her, despite the lack of anyone in the stands. Ridiculous! She focussed on her brother and ignored the many tiers of empty benches.

“Did you have something in mind, a way that I could best help?” Minerva asked.

“Aye. We’ll play a bit of ping pong – not literally!” Malcolm laughed at Minerva’s expression. “I thought we could stand twenty paces or so apart and trade spells. You send me a hex, I’ll block it, then I’ll send you one, and you block it, but nice and easy. Nothing too fast – at least until I have a sense of your level, hmm?”

“All right – what sorts of hexes?”

“Any sort, as long as they won’t maim or permanently injure. And no Unforgivables, of course. That goes without saying. And you can be inventive, if you wish. It would be good if you were, actually. I can imagine that Dumbledore will be.”

“More so than I could be. And he is much more powerful,” Minerva said.

“Yes, more powerful, but you have the same feel. Whatever you send me will be similarly tuned – gives me a bit of an advantage, really, over a confrontation with a stranger,” Malcolm said.

“We have the same feel?”

“Yes, your magic. Very similar. His is richer, more powerful, but very similar. Noticed it when I met him, in fact. Couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but every time he cast a spell, there was something familiar about it. Then it hit me, his magic reminded me of my little sister.” Malcolm walked out to the middle of the pitch. “Come on, now, we haven’t all day!”

Minerva furrowed her brow as she followed her brother out onto the pitch. “What difference does that make to you?” she asked, though she was remembering her own speculations earlier in the summer that awareness of an opponent’s magical resonance might be helpful in defence.

“It doesn’t take as much energy to counter a spell if you can tune your defence to their signature,” Malcolm replied. “If you really are very familiar with an opponent’s magic, you could even – theoretically, anyway – tune your spell and cast a more effective hex. Haven’t managed that myself. Haven’t had occasion to try, actually.”

“Why don’t they teach that? I took Defence right through NEWTs and got an O, and I never heard of it. I’ve speculated about it myself, but I have never heard anyone discuss it.”

Malcolm shrugged. “Most people can’t sense their opponent’s magic, anyway. Or anyone’s magic, for that matter, except as a sort of . . . general hum, sometimes. I’ve always been able to, and I’ve worked on improving that ability, but it wouldn’t be practical, now, would it, to try to teach something to students who are fundamentally incapable of accomplishing it on even a most rudimentary level?”

“But theoretically – ”

“Theoretically, it might be something that is taught to Aurors, or in the Department of Mysteries. Doubt that even most of them could accomplish it, either. Come, are we going to jabber all day or practise?”

“Practise,” Minerva said, drawing her wand. She could use the practise herself, anyway. She might be more magically fit than Gertrude, but she hadn’t practised her defensive magic in a long time.

Malcolm nodded. “Okay. You go first, then. We’ll just take turns in the beginning, so don’t worry about how fast you cast – unlike yesterday – but do try for some control. And if you can manage nonverbal, that would be helpful to me.”

If she could manage nonverbal, indeed! Minerva would show him nonverbal. She would also minimise her wand movement to the barest necessary to cast the spell. No flamboyance. Just a good, subtle cast.

Malcolm countered her Leg Locker easily, and cast a basic Stinging Hex, which Minerva likewise blocked. They continued in that manner for almost twenty minutes. Finally, Malcolm held up a hand and lowered his wand.

“I think it’s time to pick up the pace,” he said. “Free-cast. Now!” He slashed his wand through the air, and a bright orange spell arced toward her.

Startled, Minerva raised a strong, general shield, but it tired her and she couldn’t get off another spell before he had cast a second hex, which she likewise didn’t recognise until it was upon her, and a Blasting Hex hit her shield. Her defensive spell held, however, and she quickly went on the offensive and cast a few spells in rapid succession, side-stepping Malcolm’s curses rather than attempting to block them. Malcolm laughed in delight as he countered her spells, including one meant to Transfigure his hands into hooves, then he cast something new that met her Stunner midway on its path and caused a shimmering halo to expand outward and then seem to shatter into multi-coloured shards of iridescence. This startled Minerva so much that she hesitated, and Malcolm’s next hex hit her, undeterred. She fell flat on her back and her vision was temporarily obscured, everything appearing red. Minerva blinked, and as her vision recovered, Malcolm’s face appeared above her.

She tried to speak, but only managed a croak, and Malcolm smiled in response. “You’ll be fine, little sister. Just take shallow breaths until you get a headache, then you can breathe more normally, and we can continue.”

Minerva croaked at her brother again, but he just sat cross-legged on the ground next to her, pulled a penny whistle from somewhere, and began to play a little tune. An annoying little tune. A few minutes later, a sharp pain shot through her head, and involuntarily, she took a deep breath.

“Will you stop that infernal racket?” Minerva said hoarsely.

“Ah, the headache has hit? It doesn’t last. Sooner you’re on your feet, the sooner it will go away.” Malcolm put the penny whistle away and held out his hand to her. “Come on, up on your feet, little sister!”

Minerva was relieved to discover that she could move her arm. She reached out for Malcolm, who grasped her hand, stood, and heaved Minerva to her feet. She was a bit dizzy, but she found that she could stand just fine.

“Your headache should just fade away. Won’t take long!” Malcolm said cheerfully. “I didn’t put much oomph behind it.”

“What was that?” Minerva asked.

“Modified Stunner with just a bit of a Petrificus thrown in. I call it ‘Stare et Attendere.’ Good for talking to someone who doesn’t want to listen to you. Safer than a powerful Petrificus Totalis even at its strongest, and never knocks them out completely, no matter how hard it’s cast, but it can render them incapacitated for quite some time, depending on the force I put behind it,” he answered. “That was just a tickle.”

“A tickle?” Minerva said sceptically.

“Aye – how’s the head?”

Minerva shook her head vigorously. “It’s fine. The headache is gone.”

“And you can move about without a problem?”

Minerva stretched and walked in a circle. “Apparently.”

“No residual discomfort or stiffness?”

“No.”

“It was just a tickle then. Ready for more?” Malcolm asked hopefully.

Minerva nodded. He had asked for inventive earlier. After that experience, she was ready to be inventive.

As soon as they were in their places, Minerva cast the first jinx, grinning as she did so. Malcolm hadn’t been prepared this time, and he began hopping up and down. He managed to spell one boot off, and he quickly cast a Petrificus Totalis, which Minerva blocked easily. She followed up her block with another little spell. Malcolm still hadn’t managed to remove his other rapidly shrinking boot, and as he hopped, her second spell hit, and as soon as his foot came down, he slipped backward and landed with a thud on a sheet of ice.

Malcolm pointed his wand at his shoe and with a grimace said, “Finite Incantatum,” then he spelled the shoe off his foot, since it was now far to tight to remove in any other way.

He looked up at his sister and grinned. “Nice. Very nice. Imaginative combination. Have to remember that one!”

Malcolm sat and rubbed his feet while Minerva returned his boots to their normal size.

“Do you have any imaginative combinations in store for Dumbledore?” Minerva asked her brother as he pulled his short boots back on.

“A few possibilities,” he said, standing. He looked around him, then scuffed speculatively at the turf. “One reason that they chose the Quidditch pitch is that the wards are apparently weaker here. Can’t have a very good game of Quidditch if the Bludgers are slowed or players can’t fly aggressively, after all. Do you know much about the wards out here?”

Minerva did, more than she cared to, having transformed back and forth and back and forth as she trotted in and out of the stadium the summer that she helped Dumbledore with the wards. When she wasn’t doing the same thing down at the gates, or in the dungeons, or in the Astronomy Tower, or even Hogwarts Heart. She had actually become tired of transforming into her Animagus form, which she hadn’t believed was possible when she had first achieved her form several weeks before. But they had tuned the wards to recognise a person in Animagus form, and it had been worth their efforts. Not that she had done any of the tuning, of course, but it couldn’t have been done without her, and Dumbledore had allowed her to observe when he was working on the other wards, as well, and Professor Gamp had even shown her the Arithmantic calculations that she was doing and had spent some time explaining the magical inversions and adjustments she performed on them and how she determined where to cast them. Yes, Minerva knew something of the Hogwarts wards.

“Why do you ask?” Minerva replied.

“It would be good to know precisely how inventive I can be, or whether Dumbledore will have an advantage over me because we’re on Hogwarts grounds,” Malcolm said. “My options might be limited and his enhanced. He is Headmaster of the place. He must hold the wards.”

Minerva looked over at him sharply. “I don’t know enough to be able to help you. I don’t doubt that Gertrude knows more than I do. She has taught here longer and is Deputy Headmistress.” Minerva didn’t add that Gertrude had also worked on the wards with Albus, using Arithmancy to help him bring them into alignment again.

“Mmm. I suppose. But she isn’t a Head of House. You are. You must have a better sense of the wards.”

“Gertrude, as you must know since you are asking about it, can also hold the wards, just as a Head of House can. I really don’t feel comfortable discussing this, Malcolm,” Minerva said. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you. I just don’t know what I can tell you of what I do know, and I really don’t know very much. And if Gertrude doesn’t feel comfortable talking to you about it for fear of bias of some sort, why don’t you talk to Johannes? He’s been at Hogwarts for years, and has been Head of Ravenclaw for much longer than Gertrude has been Deputy Headmistress. He would have a sense of what information might be helpful to you and what would be . . . permissible to divulge.”

“That is an idea, but Johannes . . .” Malcolm frowned and looked off into the distance. “He has been perfectly cordial, you understand, and I know from what both you and Trudie have said that he and Gertrude were never a couple. But I think that for a long time, he hoped that she might return his interest. I assume that one reason he decided to leave Hogwarts is that he gave up. If he truly had hope, he would not have abandoned her. I never would. Even if Trudie no longer wished to see me. I would abide by her wishes, but I would never truly leave her, and I would never give up hope that she might change her mind.” Malcolm shook his head. “But that isn’t the point. The point is, I don’t think Johannes likes me. I don’t want to put him in an awkward position.”

“He is a good man, Malcolm,” Minerva said gently. “Approach him as a friend. Don’t press him for his help, but give him the opportunity to offer it. He might appreciate it. He and Gertrude have been friends for a long time. Johannes could simply be feeling shut out, even if he does know that he never had a chance with her. He might feel as though he’s lost a friend. Why don’t you . . . make it seem that he’s gained one, instead?”

Malcolm grinned at her. “Good idea, Minerva. Aye, an excellent idea, in fact.” He nodded. “I will do just that this afternoon. Thank you!” He put an arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze.

The two walked over to the Gryffindor section of the stands and climbed up to the lowest tier of seats, far above the pitch. Malcolm took a folded, slightly crumpled parchment from his sporran, and a small, brightly coloured packet. He held the packet out to Minerva.

“Gum?” he offered. “Bubble gum?”

Minerva made a face. Malcolm shrugged and popped two pieces into his mouth and began to chew, softening it up, as he unfolded the parchment and looked at it.

“I’ve been reading this over, trying to figure out what – ” Malcolm blew a bubble and popped it. “ – what Dumbledore might have in store for me. I have a few ideas, but I was wondering what you thought.” He shoved the parchment toward her.

Minerva perused the letter again, smirking on her second reading of it. It actually was somewhat amusing, she thought. “Well,” Minerva said, “as I don’t believe he wants to endanger everyone’s lives, I very much doubt that he’ll have a Nundu for you. Maybe a Boggart? Doxies are an easy thing to deal with, but they are also easy to procure, so he might have some Doxies. Or he might go for the Cornish Pixies. One or the other, but not both, I am sure, as they are both elementary pests, at least in a contained situation such as this. I doubt he’d use Nifflers, as they are not at all any kind of a challenge.”

“Unless you are overrun with them – you should have seen Venice! But you are right, I think, on the other points,” Malcolm said. “Any other ideas?”

“He may have a cursed object for you to deal with, though I imagine it will be something he curses himself. That means . . . that means it will likely be difficult, challenging for you, but whimsical, and probably not terribly dangerous,” Minerva said thoughtfully. “Not for this, although I am sure he could place a dangerous curse on something, if he wished,”

“Now, that is helpful to know,” Malcolm said, nodding, “and it seems in keeping with what I know of Dumbledore.”

“And I wouldn’t ignore what you called your hobbies, Malcolm.”

Malcolm laughed. “Think we’ll go skinny-dipping with the Giant Squid? That could be fun!”

Minerva chuckled. “No, I rather doubt that.”

“Oh, too bad!”

“And I also don’t think he will conjure a table tennis . . . table, either,” Minerva said. “But this Apparition-by-Broom, that’s something that might catch his fancy, though I haven’t a clue how he’d test it.”

“I’ll bring my own broom,” Malcolm said with a grin, “and my penny whistle, too. I wouldn’t want to try it on a strange broom unless I had to.”

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

CXLVIII: A Mercurial McGonagall, continued

The two chatted for a while longer, Minerva explaining a few of the Transfiguration spells she had used but which had never hit their target, then Malcolm banished his chewing gum and they climbed down and left the stadium, heading for the front gates where he was to meet Albus.

“You know, Malcolm, about lunch with Albus,” Minerva began.

“Aye, lunch with Dumbledore. Looking forward to that! Maybe he’ll give me a hint or two about Saturday. I thought I’d show him my enchanted blowpipe,” Malcolm said enthusiastically.

“Your what? Never mind that – I just want to ask you to be, well, on your best behaviour.”

Malcolm stopped. Shaking his head, Malcolm said, “I am not a complete barbarian, you know. I like having guests.” He continued walking. “I also thought he might enjoy seeing my Charmed Obsidian Seer’s Glass. It’s used by Seers in certain parts of the world in the way that we would use a crystal ball. I can’t get it to do much, but I was never very good at divination. Your friend Quin, though, he was able to do some rather amazing things with it. Quite impressed, I was.”

“You saw Quin?” Minerva asked, distracted from her original point by this information.

“Aye, on Monday. Had him come for lunch. He enjoyed himself, I think,” Malcolm said. “Gave him cassoulet. Seemed to like it. Can’t serve that to Dumbledore, though. Don’t have time to make it. It’ll be something a bit simpler today.” He turned and grinned at his sister. “Thanks for the practise, Minerva. It was fun.”

Minerva returned his smile. “Yes, it was, wasn’t it? Though I could have done without that one spell.”

“You’re none the worse for wear, though. But you’ll have an appetite for your lunch, I’m sure.” Malcolm looked toward the castle. “And here comes Dumbledore now. Don’t worry, little sister, I won’t be poisoning him with my cooking.”

Minerva laughed. “All right. I’ll trust you. Not that I thought you would poison him. He’d probably notice before you managed it, anyway.”

Albus waved and caught up with them. “Did you two have a good time?” he asked. He looked at Minerva as if trying to assess whether she had been injured.

Minerva nodded. “It was more fun than I had thought it would be. I suppose I’m appreciating the notion of a sporting duel a little more. Although I think I need to be less distractable,” Minerva said with a small rueful grin.

“You’re all right?” Albus asked with some concern.

“Oh, yes, quite all right. And I caught Malcolm out, so that made up for my injured pride,” Minerva answered.

Malcolm laughed. “Aye, it was her simplest spells that got me. And she can be quick!” Malcolm looked at his sister, his eyes dancing with mirth. “But I knew that already!”

The three reached the gates, and Albus said, “I’ve passed the wards to Gertrude. She asked me to tell you to come up as soon as you like. You needn’t wait until twelve-thirty.”

Minerva nodded. “Don’t let Malcolm distract you all afternoon, Albus. I’ll be waiting for you,” she said, reminding him of their plans.

“I’ll get him back before two, would that do?” Malcolm asked.

“Yes, fine. I’ll see you later, then,” Minerva said, smiling at Albus. She did hope that the lunch would go well. Malcolm seemed to have forgotten his concerns of the evening before and to be focussed on showing Albus some of his artifacts. She hoped very much that Malcolm mentioned neither his age nor the old rumours he had heard.

Albus smiled at her. “Have a nice lunch with Gertrude, my dear!” He gave her arm a quick squeeze.

“So, I thought that since you haven’t been to my flat before, I’d bring you by Side-Along,” Malcolm said.

“Side-Along?” Albus said. He took a breath and nodded. “Yes, most sensible.”

Malcolm took Albus’s arm, and a moment later, the two were gone with a sharp crack. Minerva, glad that Malcolm hadn’t Splinched the Headmaster, despite the unlikelihood of it, turned and headed back up to the castle to meet Gertrude for lunch.

Albus looked around himself. Malcolm had Apparated them directly into his all-purpose sitting room.

“Welcome to my humble abode, Professor. This is my, um, sitting room, I suppose you could say, over here is my little kitchen,” he said gesturing toward a closed swinging door, “and through there is my bedroom. The loo is through the bedroom, if you need it.”

With a few books and boxes set in orderly rows on a set of shelves at one end of the room, a small settee, a single armchair, ottoman, two straight-backed chairs, and a square table, the flat was neat, clean, spare, and might have been called austere in its furnishings were it not for the bright, multicoloured cushions and cloths. There was a Muggle picture on the wall, likewise colourful and lively. Albus walked over and looked at it.

“Chagall, is it?” he asked, unsure.

“Aye, marvellous, isn’t it? Gouache pastel,” Malcolm answered. “I met him a few years ago. I had always liked his work. Whenever I had the opportunity to see it, I did, and one day, I was travelling in Greece, and I saw the man himself. Recognised him immediately, so I went up to him and told him how much joy and inspiration he had brought me. We got to talking, and he showed me a few of the things he was working on at the time. I liked this. He had just finished it. He said it was supposed to have been a study for a larger work that he never did, so he had finished this up as it was. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to have something of his. It feels somewhat selfish to me, having it hanging here for my own enjoyment, but I liked it.” He shrugged.

“It is wonderful. I like the smiling cow flying in the background, and the goat, playing the fiddle,” Albus said. “And the colours are simply amazing. I can see why you acquired it.”

“Muggle magic, I call it. That is Muggle magic at its best,” Malcolm said. “Glad you like it. I have a few other things you might like to take a look at – not Muggle, though.”

Fifteen minutes later, he left Albus playing with an enchanted gyroscope, the Charmed Obsidian Seer’s Glass beside it, awaiting his attention, and the long magical blowpipe leaning up against the wall nearby.

-/-/-/-

Minerva walked back up to the castle. As she started up the stairs, she could hear Hagrid and Johannes laughing in the staff room. She hoped that Malcolm did speak with Johannes that afternoon. It would be good for Gertrude, too, she was sure. Gertrude likely had not wanted to hurt her friend’s feelings, nor to lose her friendship with him. From what Albus had said, Gertrude was careful to whom she extended her friendship; she must care for Johannes and not want to lose his friendship simply because she had fallen in love. Fallen in love . . . Minerva smiled. She never would have thought Gertrude could fall in love, and that had been very uncharitable of her. Gertrude simply had suffered a great deal in her life, in addition to being a naturally reserved person. But Malcolm – that still seemed incongruous to her, Malcolm and Gertrude together. “Trudie,” as he called her. But incongruous as the thought may have been, when the two were together, they seemed natural and comfortable.

Minerva rapped lightly on the portrait frame outside Gertrude’s room, and the old witch in the portrait disappeared to announce her presence. A second later, the door opened, and Minerva entered to see Gertrude smiling, waiting for her.

“I’m glad you could come for lunch, Minerva,” Gertrude said. “Spoonie has already served everything.” Gertrude’s eyes sparkled. “I sent her to Madam Puddifoot’s for our dessert. Told her to take her time. Apparently, my little Spoonie is growing up. I think she’s found love in the kitchen down there. Some elf named, what was it . . . Feego, I believe. So I have found an excuse to send her into Hogsmeade daily, and I have been eating rather more cakes and biscuits than usual. Good thing that Malcolm is here so often. He has quite an appetite and can help me with it all.”

Minerva smiled. “Feego, that’s Madam Puddifoot’s free house-elf.”

“Free elf?” Gertrude asked. “Ah. Well, we’ll cross that bridge later. See how things go. Please, have a seat! How have you been?”

Minerva nodded. “Quite well. You?”

Gertrude smiled. “Very well, indeed,” she said, buttering her bread. “I was glad to see that you and Albus have overcome your difficulties.”

Minerva blushed. “Yes, well, I suppose we have. Most of them, I think.”

“I was so hoping that your feelings went in that direction. I hope you don’t mind my saying that. I always knew you cared for him, of course, and I was pleased when I came to believe you could return his feelings for you. But then I began to worry that the two of you would just keep waltzing past one another.” Gertrude smiled happily. “It is good to know that you aren’t any longer.”

“Yes, it is quite a relief to us, as well,” Minerva said with a smile.

“If you ever want to talk about anything, I am here,” Gertrude said, “although I am sure there are other people in whom you would prefer to confide. But I have known Albus a long time, and I know him very well. If there’s any way that I can help . . . . Now, would you like some cheese? I have a nice mature Wensleydale here – it was one of Reg’s favourites – and a very lovely Cornish Yarg.”

Minerva helped herself to a little of each, taking a bit more of the deeply-veined Yarg. “How are you and Malcolm?”

“We’re fine.” Gertrude took a sip of her tomato soup. “I am slightly . . . apprehensive about Saturday. I believe that Malcolm will acquit himself well, however.”

“I have never heard of Malcolm having a job for a full year before. I presume that the reason he is considering it is because you are here,” Minerva said.

“I did tell him that he shouldn’t take it only because I would like him to, although it would have been disingenuous of me to behave as though I was ambivalent about it. But it was a factor in his decision. That and you said that you enjoyed teaching here,” Gertrude replied.

“I have also never – and I literally mean ‘never’ – known him to be in a relationship with a witch, and most certainly never so besotted. Perhaps that is not the best word to use, but he counts on you being there for him.” Minerva looked at Gertrude for a moment. “I am glad to know that you are . . . reliable, if you don’t mind my being frank.”

Gertrude quirked a grin. “I would hope you would be, Minerva.”

Minerva wanted to ask her about Albus’s reluctance to go on holiday with her at his cottage – which they had discussed again that morning. He had again explained his feelings about it, but Minerva had found the reasons peculiar. She had tried to tell him that there were different kinds of romantic settings, and he had sighed and said that he understood that completely, which is why he had come up with the many different suggestions for a destination. His latest suggestions had been Tibet and Nepal, followed by the French Pyrenees and Andorra. And they did sound like romantic destinations, and the wizarding inns he mentioned also sounded romantic and lovely. She was beginning to feel unreasonable in her repeated suggestion to go to his cottage, and gauche in having essentially invited herself to his home. Of course, he had never actually lived there; it was more of a retreat from Hogwarts for him than a home. But it seemed that the more Albus suggested other destinations, the more attractive his cottage became to Minerva. Of course, perhaps he was right, and it wasn’t appropriate for some reason; after all, she had never been there. She was oddly fixated on it, though, and it did appeal to her to spend a few days completely alone with Albus in his own cottage on its little island. At least he had said he would consider it.

The rest of Minerva and Gertrude’s lunch was spent talking about Hogwarts and the upcoming school year, Minerva still unwilling to discuss anything too personal with Gertrude, and Gertrude seemed comfortable with that, as well.

In Malcolm’s flat, he and Albus were eating croque monsieurs with cucumber salad, drinking cider, and trading stories, Malcolm sharing more tales than Albus, but keeping Albus thoroughly amused. Albus was so entertained, he had almost, but not quite, forgotten why he had initially invited Malcolm to have lunch with him. So when Malcolm mentioned Minerva’s name, Albus simply took another swallow of cider.

“Minerva and I had a nice chat yesterday morning,” Malcolm said. “I understand that – how did she put it? – you have entered a new phase in your relationship. That’s grand. Minerva seems happy about that. You two have known each other for a long time; you must know her quite well.”

When Malcolm paused, Albus nodded and said, “Yes, I think we do know each other well. We have been friends for some time.”

“She loves you,” Malcolm stated superfluously.

Albus smiled. “I am very fortunate.”

“Yes, you are. Did she tell you anything of our conversation?” Malcolm asked, spearing his last slice of cucumber with his fork.

“A little,” Albus said, leaning back in his chair and taking another drink from his glass.

“Refill?” Malcolm Summoned two more bottles of cider and uncapped them with a flick of his finger. As he refilled their glasses, he said, “She loves you fiercely, Dumbledore. Practically took my head off, she did – almost literally – when I dared to say something a bit uncomplimentary of you.” He took a long drink of his cider, then set the glass down and looked at Albus quite seriously. “It turned out to be a test of her, as much as of the openness of your relationship and of what she knew of you. She really does love you. Don’t do anything to betray it or to hurt her – I don’t believe you would do so deliberately, nor do I believe you are likely to do so. But if you do, I am just giving you warning that she would not suffer it easily. She is a McGonagall and a Tyree. You are more powerful, but . . . her temper might overcome your caution. That’s all I’m saying.” He touched his cheek briefly. “And if her temper didn’t, mine certainly would. And I don’t cool off as quick as she does. But that isn’t really what I wanted to talk to you about today. Let me be blunt. Very blunt. You may decide you don’t want to offer me the job, I’m so blunt. She says you’ve been a perfect gentleman to her.”

Albus, somewhat at a loss at the sudden turn the conversation had taken and unsure of where Malcolm was heading with it, shrugged slightly. “I have certainly endeavoured to be.”

“Don’t ‘endeavour’ so hard is my advice, for what it’s worth. As I said, Minerva is a McGonagall and a Tyree. She is fiery. Buttoned up much of the time, but still, it’s there. She didn’t go into detail – she was very circumspect, in fact – but you have been too much of a gentleman. That much she did say. Minerva likes romance as much as any witch, I am certain. And she assuredly deserves romance and to be treated well and with respect . . . but . . . well, not to put too fine a point on it, don’t treat her like a delicate flower all of the time. I don’t know what you’ve been up to over the last several . . . decades, but if you are nervous about the, um, the warmer aspects of romance, just – ” Malcolm took a deep breath, “ – just get over it. You defeated Grindelwald after more than two days of torture – I knew Katherine Fellows rather well at one time, so I know about that – and if you could do that, you can get over your nervousness. Make her happy, Dumbledore. You can make her happy. Romance is more than flowers and pretty speeches. Don’t try so hard to be a gentleman with her. Just be yourself. That will be enough. She loves you.” Malcolm drank off the rest of his cider then looked at the clock on the wall. “I said I’d have you back by two. It’s getting on toward one-thirty. So, am I fired?” Malcolm asked, turning back toward Albus, not looking in the least bit worried.

Albus laughed. “You can’t be fired from a job you don’t have yet. Wait until I hire you first. And you’ll have to work harder than that at being objectionable before I would fire you, anyway.” Albus laughed again. He had thought at the beginning of Malcolm’s “treat-my-sister-right speech” that he would warn him away or tell him to treat Minerva like a lady, and instead, Malcolm had essentially told him to accelerate the pace of the relationship. “I will do my best to bring Minerva happiness. And you are right, I would never intentionally do anything to hurt her and I would do anything I could to keep her from harm.” He looked at Malcolm speculatively. “May I surmise that you caught a bit of her fiery temper yesterday?”

Malcolm laughed. “I most certainly did. She opened a three-inch gash on my face, right down to the bone, practically all the way through the cheek, in fact. I’m afraid she didn’t take kindly to something which I suggested she might not be aware of.” Malcolm shook his head. “It wasn’t anything that mattered anyway. Not to me, nor to her. So there’s nothing to discuss there.”

“Well, as long as we’re speaking wizard-to-wizard, Malcolm, you should know that Gertrude and I have been friends for forty years. No matter what happens, that will stay the same,” Albus said. “Gertrude is a remarkable witch, as I am sure you have recognised, and she has already suffered greatly. Reginald was the great love of her life. Losing him hurt her. It changed her. She seems to be blossoming in your company. She has fallen in love with you with startling rapidity. I love her and don’t want to see her hurt. I know you each have your own lives to lead, and sometimes . . . sometimes pain is inevitable in a relationship. But if you can’t stay with her – and if you can’t love Gertrude the way she deserves, you shouldn’t stay with her – then be honest with her and tell her. Don’t just disappear, either literally or figuratively.”

Malcolm was quiet for a moment, then he said, “All right, I suppose I was blunt with you. But you needn’t worry. She and I have already had this talk, and to be honest, I am afraid that she will discover that she fell in love too fast and with a wizard who isn’t all she had thought he was. I fear disappointing her.” He looked at Albus steadily. “You’re the other wizard, aren’t you? The other love of her life. I thought for a while . . . I didn’t think it could be you.”

Albus shook his head. “No, no, I wasn’t. I don’t know whom she was speaking of. I only knew of Reginald. If there was anyone else . . . it wasn’t me.” Albus looked uncomfortable. “I don’t discuss such things, but, as I say, we have been friends for a very long time. Our friendship . . . our friendship expressed itself in different ways at different times. But she was never in love with me. You are a lucky man – I am sure that there have been wizards over the years who had their hearts broken by her and her desire to remain only friends.”

“Oh.” Malcolm looked puzzled, then he shrugged. “Well, would you like some coffee? We have time for a quick cup. Or tea, if you would prefer that.”

Albus smiled. “Tea would be very nice, indeed.”

A few minutes later, Malcolm set down a pot of tea, milk, and two cups. “Do you take sugar? I have some.”

“I usually do take sugar. It smells good. What is it?” Albus asked.

“It’s an Assam blended with some Indian spices, heavy on the cinnamon,” Malcolm replied, Summoning a crock of sugar.

The two sipped their tea in companionable silence.

“I’m glad you could come for lunch, Professor. Next time, I’ll serve something a bit more posh,” Malcolm said as they stood.

“I enjoyed this very much, both the meal and the company,” Albus said. “And if you like, you may call me Albus, you know.”

“All right, I’ll try to remember. Um, about yesterday. I’m sorry if I was rude. But I was uncomfortable with that. Being called ‘my boy.’ And it did strike me as odd, given that I am seventeen years older than Minerva and, well, never mind that – I do say the most inept things sometimes. And sometimes, in trying to make something better, I make it worse,” he said with a sheepish grin, “like now.”

Albus returned his smile. “That’s all right, although I do hope you will forgive me if I occasionally forget.”

Malcolm nodded. “Agreed. We should get back, I suppose. Minerva will be looking for you soon, and Gertrude claims she’d like me to keep her company, and I choose to believe her,” he said with a laugh. “You two have plans for the afternoon?”

Albus hesitated, then said, “We are going to the McGonagall Cliffs. Your parents have invited us for dinner.”

Malcolm looked slightly surprised. “Oh! Do they know, then?”

Albus nodded. “Apparently before we had realised ourselves. And Minerva wrote them a letter on Saturday.”

Malcolm asked, “Are you nervous?”

“Minerva assures me that I have no reason to be nervous,” Albus replied.

Malcolm smiled at him. “I would be nervous, too, if I were you. But don’t be. If they’ve known and now they are inviting you both around, they must be okay with it. I know that they both like you.” Malcolm grinned wickedly. “Or they did!” He laughed, and Albus couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“I am not precisely looking forward to this with pleasurable anticipation, but it was important to Minerva, and it’s not as though it is something that could be delayed indefinitely. As she pointed out, too, waiting wouldn’t make it any easier,” Albus said. “But . . . you know that I was in school with your grandparents, and I was actually a few years ahead of them. It is hard for me to conceive that your parents have no qualms at all.”

“Minerva loves you. I don’t think that what anyone else has to say about your age or anything else should have any influence on you and your relationship with Minerva. So let’s get back to Hogwarts so you can begin to treat my sister the way she deserves,” Malcolm said, smiling and clapping Albus on the back.

Albus looked at him, bemused, thinking that Minerva was certainly right: Malcolm was definitely one odd wizard. But he liked him, nonetheless.

“Yes, and you can keep Gertrude company,” Albus replied with a smile.

“We can each Disapparate from here. I will meet you at the gates,” Malcolm said, drawing his wand. “See you there!” Malcolm left with a crack, Albus following him a half second later.

---

Note: I hope people are enjoying the continuing romance and looking forward to more lemon chiffon and some straight lemonade!

[minerva62]

That was really cute! Who would have thought that Malcolm would encourage Albus to treat Minerva a little less gentleman-like! ;D

I am curious where they will end up for their holiday. I think that Albus is so reluctant to go his cottage with Minerva because of his experiences with Valerianna, although that does not really make sense to me as this is another cottage......I am wondering whether there is another reason.....Maybe Albus was afraid that he would not be able to stay the perfect gentleman when being completely alone with Minerva.....Maybe Malcolm has now dispelled his fears and he will agree to go to his cottage.......We'll see.......anyway, great chapter as always, and I'm anxious to read more......I did not expect such an early update, just was checking out of habit.....thanks for the wonderful chapter!

[dianahawthorne]

I completely agree with minerva62 - I'm glad that Malcolm encouraged Albus to be less of a gentleman! I also wonder at Albus's reluctance to go to his cottage - I hope we find out soon. And I do think, contrary to Albus's opinion, that he was the other love of Gertrude's life. But if it wasn't him, then who? Great chapter, as always, and I'm looking forward to the next update!

[KristaMarie]

As odd as Malcom can be, I gotta say that I want a brother like him. One who does not threaten your boyfriend, who doesn't make your boyfriend want to run away screaming... yeah, that kind of brother would be nice...

I do hope Albus agrees to go to the cottage. Hopefully his little chat with Malcom will have straightened that issue out. If not though, I'm sure there is a very good reason and I want to hear it lol!

Meeting the parents is coming soon... even if they do like him already it's bound to be interesting! I'm looking forward to the next updates!

[Hogwarts Duo]

This was such a fun chapter to read. It had me smiling almost all the way through!

Malcolm and Minerva practicing for the duel were great. I could just see Minerva trying to think outside the box when trying to get the best of Malcolm. Given how quickly she cast the spell that cut his cheek, I’m surprised she didn’t catch him off guard more than she did. I don’t think I’d have appreciated the hex that caused the headache though. It reminded me of a headache you get from eating ice cream too fast…OWIE!

I think Minerva gave Malcolm some sage advice about making friends with Johannes. I really feel sorry for his character since he’s obviously had a crush on Gertie but she didn’t return his feelings and now she’s happily involved with Malcolm. I hope the three of them can be friends, at least while Johannes is still on staff.

Minerva nodded. “It was more fun than I had thought it would be. I suppose I’m appreciating the notion of a sporting duel a little more. Although I think I need to be less distractable,” Minerva said with a small rueful grin.

“You’re all right?” Albus asked with some concern.

“Oh, yes, quite all right. And I caught Malcolm out, so that made up for my injured pride,” Minerva answered.

Malcolm laughed. “Aye, it was her simplest spells that got me. And she can be quick!” Malcolm looked at his sister, his eyes dancing with mirth. “But I knew that already!”

Albus is just so adorable when he’s concerned about Minerva. I could just see him eyeing her up and down, looking for any scratch or forming bruise that might not have been there earlier. I think it’s so wonderful that he’s really growing into their relationship and he’s not afraid as much anymore. Also, the parting shot by Malcolm about Minerva being quick had me in a fit of giggles. I bet that’s a lesson he won’t soon forget about his little sister. Haha.

“It is wonderful. I like the smiling cow flying in the background, and the goat, playing the fiddle,” Albus said. “And the colours are simply amazing. I can see why you acquired it.”

“Muggle magic, I call it. That is Muggle magic at its best,” Malcolm said. “Glad you like it. I have a few other things you might like to take a look at – not Muggle, though.”

I have a feeling that Malcolm and Albus have a lot more in common than we originally thought. The painting sounds exactly like something I would expect Albus to have in his private home or perhaps his chambers at Hogwarts. They may have their differences on a few things but I can see these two easily forming a friendship that extends beyond Minerva’s ties.

The luncheon between Gertie and Minerva went well, I think. It’s nice to see them finally on the same page about things and also being able to have a conversation without Minerva and by extension, me, second guessing everything Gertie says. I never thought I’d see that day, haha.

“Let me be blunt. Very blunt. You may decide you don’t want to offer me the job, I’m so blunt. She says you’ve been a perfect gentleman to her.”

Albus, somewhat at a loss at the sudden turn the conversation had taken and unsure of where Malcolm was heading with it, shrugged slightly. “I have certainly endeavoured to be.”

“Don’t ‘endeavour’ so hard is my advice, for what it’s worth. As I said, Minerva is a McGonagall and a Tyree. She is fiery. Buttoned up much of the time, but still, it’s there. She didn’t go into detail – she was very circumspect, in fact – but you have been too much of a gentleman. That much she did say. Minerva likes romance as much as any witch, I am certain. And she assuredly deserves romance and to be treated well and with respect . . . but . . . well, not to put too fine a point on it, don’t treat her like a delicate flower all of the time.

MEGA-HUGS and brownie points to Malcolm for telling Albus a little manly advice. I think he’s hit the nail on the head with regards to Minerva’s feelings. I believe she loves the romantic side of Albus but she’s also been in love with him for quite some time and no doubt the frustrations are running a bit high in certain areas…coughLEMONcough! I’m glad Malcolm gave Albus the hint that it’s okay to be a gentleman but not to overdo it as well. Now, let’s see what Albus does with that advice…tee hee.

And lastly, I’m glad that Malcolm apologized for being so rude to Albus earlier. I’m sure Albus didn’t think too much on it but it bothered me that Malcolm was so rude to him. I think their little luncheon was productive and helped to set the record straight on a few things and clear the air.

Now, on to the chapter with Minerva’s parents. I’m sure that’s gonna be an even better chapter than this one!!! I hope we get to see a lot of Merwyn and Egeria. They’re just too cute together.

Thanks for the update!!!

Cheers,
GLM

[Lamenting Quill]

Hahaha - this was great as always, luv! Loved Malcolm telling Albus not to be so gentlemanly with Minerva - snicker. Hope he listens! Can't wait for the next update, dear!

Cheers,

~Mandi~

[MMADfan]

Note: Posted in three parts because of length.

I'm glad folk have been enjoying the interactions among the various characters! BTW, Hogwarts Duo, I really like your Albus & Minerva bears -- very cute! hee!

CXLIX: The McGonagall Cliffs

The two men walked rapidly back to the castle. It was a few minutes after two, and Albus was remembering quite acutely both Minerva’s displeasure earlier in the summer at his constant tardiness and her request that morning that he not let Malcolm distract him that afternoon. Still, it had been a good opportunity to come to know Malcolm better, and it had also made him more comfortable with the younger wizard’s attitude toward his relationship with his sister.

Albus went up to Gertrude’s room with Malcolm and learned that Minerva had left forty-five minutes before. Albus used Gertrude’s Floo to Floo to his office, then he took a pinch of Floo-Powder and called through to Minerva’s sitting room. Minerva appeared before him in just a few moments.

“I am very sorry, my dear, I just returned to the castle. I need to get something from my rooms, then I will be ready to leave,”Albus said. “You look very nice, by the way.” Despite the green haze he was speaking through, he did think that Minerva looked quite lovely. Perhaps he should change robes. He was wearing his taupe robes with maroon and pewter trim, which were fine, but fairly sedate.

“That’s fine. I could meet you in the front hall, if you like,” Minerva replied.

“Should I change?” Albus asked. “I think I should change.”

“Very well,” Minerva said with a nod. “I’ll meet you in the front hall in twenty minutes. You might want to wear or bring some stout boots. I thought we would go for a walk this afternoon.”

“It’s getting a bit warm on this end, Minerva, so I’ll just go now and get ready. I’ll be as quick as I can,” Albus said.

“See you then,” Minerva answered.

Albus pulled his head from the fireplace. He never used quite enough Floo-Powder when making Floo-Calls, he thought. One day, he was sure to singe his beard. He started up the brass stairs, trying to think of what he could wear that would be respectable but more attractive than his current robes.

“Wear something nice,” he heard a voice call out behind him, “something that she’ll like to see you in. Make her proud to be with you.”

Albus looked up at the portrait of Dilys. “Pardon?” he asked, though he had heard every word she had said.

“When you go to your lady’s home for the first time when you are courting her, you should wear something particularly nice. And you will feel more confident, as well,” Dilys said, looking up from her crocheting. She was now working on an afghan for Healer Bothwick’s portrait. He claimed that his library was draughty. Dilys said that that was only because the original Healer Bothwick had always complained of draughts in the library when he was alive, but she had decided to crochet him an afghan anyway. It did help pass the time.

“Ah, yes. Thank you,” Albus said politely and continued up the stairs.

As absurd as it seemed, to be taking advice from a portrait about his choice of dress, it did sound like good advice, Albus thought, and he went to find some robes that Minerva would be pleased to see him in and that would make him feel more confident, as well. He put his nervousness out of his mind and focussed on that task.

-/-/-/-/-

“Hold still, Merwyn! Your collar is all askew here,” Egeria said with slight impatience.

“Don’t see why we have to get all dressed up,” Merwyn grumbled. “I thought what I was wearing this morning was perfectly acceptable.”

“Those old brown robes make you look like Friar Tuck,” Egeria grumbled back.

“They do not! Besides, I thought you liked my brown robes. That’s what you said the last time I wore them!”

“No, it isn’t. I said I liked taking them off of you. There is a difference,” Egeria said with a smile. She patted his tummy and added, “And you are right, you don’t look like Friar Tuck. You have a much nicer figure – though heaven only knows why, when you sit behind your desk all day or in the library with your feet up.”

“All due to you and your loving care, I am certain, love,” Merwyn said with a smile, catching the side of his wife’s head with as kiss as she turned away to look at herself in the mirror.

Egeria was trying to look “presentable,” as she put it, but not entirely impractical. She did want to get Minerva out in the gardens with her on the pretence of picking some herbs and vegetables for their dinner, and it wouldn’t do to be wearing anything too fine for that. She also didn’t want Albus to feel surrounded by formality, either. They were old friends, in a way, and she wanted him to feel comfortable. She was certain, as well, that Albus was nervous about seeing them now that he had embarked on a relationship with their youngest child. Egeria shook her head. No doubt, they would both encounter difficulties in their relationship, and she didn’t envy her daughter the ones that would probably arise because of Albus’s age, whether they were real or only perceived, and she certainly didn’t want to add to those difficulties.

“Now, do you remember the rules for the day, dearest?” Egeria asked, turning back to Merwyn.

“Yes, um, mention his advanced years at every opportunity, accuse him of stealing my baby away – ouch!” Merwyn cried in mock distress when Egeria tapped his arm with her open hand.

“Be serious, Merwyn! No teasing him, please. Especially not where Minerva could hear,” Egeria said, restraining a sigh. Malcolm and Murdoch certainly took after their father with their teasing and jokes, or what they thought were jokes. Morgan, on the other hand, could do with some lightening up. A perfectly sweet son, Morgan, and quite cheerful, both man and boy, but too serious most of the time.

“All right, all right. No calling Minerva ‘Minnie-girl’ or ‘Minnie-lass,’ no discussion of her time as Albus’s student unless one of them brings it up, no mention of his time as a student with our parents . . . what am I missing?” Merwyn asked. Then he grinned and said, “Oh, yes, no calling Albus ‘sonny-boy.’”

“Just be sensitive to their relative ages and positions, and you’ll be fine,” Egeria said with a slightly exasperated shake of her head. “And try . . . try to let Albus know that you are fine with their relationship but without being explicit and making him uncomfortable.”

“You don’t ask much of a man, do you, love?” Merwyn said, but he grinned and kissed her strongly, holding her tightly and massaging her buttocks, then he whispered, “Perhaps if we were to do this and then tell them that we’re going off for our afternoon ‘nap,’ they will be so distracted by their discomfort with that, they will forget to be uncomfortable about anything else.”

“No afternoon nap today, Merwyn,” Egeria said, giving him a light kiss. “But I will look forward to making up for lost sleep later tonight.”

Merwyn chuckled and kissed her again.

-/-/-/-/-

Albus, despite his usual aversion to using the internal Floo-Network, Flooed directly from his office to the staff room on the ground floor. He hoped that what he was wearing was appropriate. Dilys had told him he looked quite smart, but she was a portrait.

Minerva turned when she heard Albus come through the staff room door. Her face lit up in a smile. “You look very nice, Albus.” She wanted to greet him with a kiss, but she just took his arm. “Let’s be on our way! Mother said tea will be at four and dinner at seven-thirty. I see you have a bag with you.”

“Yes, you said we might go for a walk, and so I brought some clothing more appropriate for that, and my boots, as you suggested, and I also have a little Mitbringsel for your parents,” Albus said, using the German word for a sort of small gift.

“That wasn’t necessary, but very nice of you, nonetheless,” Minerva said, giving his arm a squeeze as they walked out the great front doors. She leaned a little closer to him and added, “And you look very, very handsome in those robes.”

Albus couldn’t help the blush of pleasure that rose in his cheeks. He still couldn’t quite get used to the fact that Minerva, beautiful, wonderful, vibrant, young Minerva, found him attractive. “Thank you. I hoped you would find them . . . suitable.” He had chosen his copper- and turquoise-coloured robes.

“Did you have a nice lunch with Malcolm?” Minerva asked.

“Yes, indeed. I like your brother very much. He is an interesting and amusing wizard, and good-hearted, as well. I am glad that he and Gertrude have hit it off as they have,” Albus replied.

“Oh, good, then,” Minerva said. “I was slightly worried. Malcolm is good-hearted, as you say, but sometimes he is not the most tactful person.”

Albus chuckled. “I understand that he was rather untactful in something he said yesterday and he raised your ire.”

“He told you about that?” Minerva let out a small groan. “I asked him not to say anything to anyone! Please believe me, Albus, I normally do not go about doing violence to others. Even to annoying relatives.”

Albus said, smiling, “I never believed you did, my dear. You are usually the very picture of restraint, decorum, and noble pacifism.”

“Yes, well, it’s nothing I am proud of. The violent part of it, anyway. It was rather nice to see the surprise on Malcolm’s face that I could be that fast,” Minerva admitted with a grin.

“I see you have a bag, as well. Had you decided to stay overnight, then?” Albus asked, looking at the carpet bag bobbing along behind Minerva. “I wouldn’t mind if you did, naturally. That’s your choice. But even if you stay, I may not – although I did pack a nightshirt, just to be prepared. I do have a heavy schedule tomorrow, and I want to make some time for us in the evening.”

“I haven’t made plans one way or the other. The bag is actually almost empty, although I did pack my favourite walking boots. It’s just that I left a few things at the house when I left on Friday, and I also want to return the old green robes that I wore that evening. They aren’t anything that I normally wear, but they are convenient to have there,” Minerva explained. “And if you don’t stay, I rather doubt that I will. Although I may. We can just see, hmm?” She slipped her hand down his arm and gave his hand a squeeze. They had reached the gates.

Minerva grinned up at Albus. “So, would you like a Side-Along from the second McGonagall in one day?”

Albus smiled down at her. “No, although I would certainly trust you to do so quite competently. I do feel most comfortable transporting myself, if you don’t mind.”

Minerva laughed. “I was only joking . . . although . . . would it be terribly decadent of me to request one from you?”

Albus’s smile grew. “Oh, very decadent, indeed, and so early in the day, too! But I will be happy to oblige you, my dear!”

They both took their bags in their hands, Minerva stepped a bit closer to Albus, and he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Hold on, Minerva,” he said softly. “Hold on tightly.”

A moment later, they were on the McGonagall property, several yards from the house. Albus dropped his bag to the ground and put his other arm around her. He kissed the top of her head, then he whispered, “I did say to hold on tightly. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. . . .”

Minerva let her bag go and returned his embrace. “Is something the matter, Albus?” she asked gently.

“No . . . not really,” Albus said hesitantly. “But I don’t want you to let go. I was thinking that as I was changing my robes earlier. I want to be able to get used to having you in my life. Not to take you for granted, but to know that you will be there,” he said softly. “But I won’t ever hold too tightly to you; if you ever wish to go, you may. So I ask that you hold me tightly. It doesn’t make very much sense, does it?”

Minerva moved her head against him, perhaps in agreement, perhaps not, and she said, “It doesn’t matter whether it makes sense or not. I love you. I won’t let you go.” She looked up at him seriously. “I promise. Never. And you needn’t worry about holding me too tightly.”

Albus kissed her forehead, then he closed his eyes and rested his head on hers. “If your parents . . . if they are unhappy, will you still . . .”

“They won’t be unhappy. But if, by some bizarre chance, they are, I will hold on even more tightly. I won’t allow anyone to take you away now, or to come between us,” Minerva said. “Not unless you change your mind on your own, and I can assure you that, unlike you, I most certainly would not quietly allow you to go. I know we belong together. I love you, Albus. I love you more than I can possibly express.”

“Good. That is good. I am very glad to hear you say that. I do need you, you know, Minerva,” Albus whispered. “I do.”

“It is good to know that, to hear you say it, because I certainly need you,” Minerva said. “And don’t worry. They like you. And Mother is looking forward to seeing us.” She drew back and rubbed his arm. “Let’s go in now.”

Albus nodded. “Allow me to get your bag.” He waved his hand and Levitated their bags, which then followed them down to the house.

Minerva opened the front door and reached behind her for Albus’s hand, pulling him in after her. Orents appeared with a pop. Minerva smiled at him.

“Hello, Orents! You know Professor Dumbledore. Could you run and let Mother know we’re here?”

“No need for that!” Egeria’s voice came from above. “Orents, be a dear and find Merwyn. Tell him Minerva and Albus are home.” Egeria came down the stairs, smiling at the two. “I’m happy to see you two! Now, come. Would you like to go out to the gazebo, have some lemonade with me?”

Egeria gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek and a quick squeeze, then she turned to Albus and took his hand, smiling. “It is good to see you again, Albus! You are looking well. Will lemonade suit, or would you prefer something stronger? I sometimes have a gin and tonic in the afternoon.”

“Lemonade would be fine, Egeria, thank you,” Albus said.

“Good, then. Just leave the bags there. Orents will take care of them later – if that’s all right with you, Albus?” Egeria said.

“Um, fine, except, just a minute here,” Albus said, opening the clasp on his bag as it floated in front of him. “Ah, here it is.” He held out a dark bottle. “For you, Egeria, and for Merwyn. A little something I thought you might enjoy, as you don’t seem opposed to Muggle drinks.”

“Drambuie! Oh, that is a nice treat,” Egeria said with a delighted smile. “We shall have that after dinner this evening. Thank you very much, Albus. Minerva, would you be a dear and bring this into the library. Just put it with your father’s scotch. I’ll bring Albus down to the gazebo. If you see your errant father, you can tell him where we are.” Egeria took Albus’s arm and began to lead him through the house to the French doors out to the garden.

Albus was relieved at Egeria’s warm welcome, although, to his immense surprise, somewhat discomfited to be separated from Minerva, even if only for a few minutes. He remembered what Malcolm had said that day about his achievements, and he dismissed his slight nervousness. Egeria was telling him something about a new potion she had read about recently, and he tried to listen attentively.

“So I thought I might try brewing it myself,” Egeria was saying. “I do brew some of my own potions, though far fewer than I used to. I usually just get them from Murdoch these days, but I have more time on my hands now, and I thought that this one seemed easy enough, but I have a feeling that they left some of the directions out. Perhaps you could take a look at the formula for me, give me a hint as to what they might have omitted. I can ask Murdoch, of course, but since you are here . . .”

“I would be most happy to,” Albus replied. “It is quite likely that there are some directions either missing or slightly distorted. As you are no doubt aware, Potions Masters do like to have their little secrets. They know that other Potions Masters, any worth their salt, anyway, would recognise the deletions or the little code words that indicate the next step in a process.”

“Good, perhaps after dinner, then. And here comes Minerva,” Egeria said, just as they reached the gazebo. “I didn’t think that it would take her long. Thank you for the Drambuie. I haven’t had it in a while. I am looking forward to it.”

“You’re very welcome,” Albus said, smiling, grateful and relieved when Minerva came up and put her hand on his arm.

The three sat in the gazebo, which had been nicely charmed to keep any winds down to a pleasant breeze as they passed through. Minerva sat on a cushioned two-person settee and Albus sat beside her.

“Dad said he’d be down in a minute, but he’s looking for something he can’t find.”

“Whatever is he looking for now?” Egeria asked. “I did ask him to be ready for your arrival.”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say. He’s in his study. I poked my head in to reinforce the fact that we were actually here.”

Egeria stood. “I hope you will forgive me, Albus, but I will go sort out my husband. You two enjoy yourselves. Minerva can call for lemonade. Have Orents bring a pitcher,” Egeria said, turning toward Minerva. “I won’t be long!”

Egeria disappeared, walking rapidly down the path back to the house, and Minerva took Albus’s hand.

“So, you see, Albus, nothing to be nervous about at all,” Minerva said. “She was happy to see you, and your gift made a good impression.”

Albus nodded. “Yes, she is trying to set me at my ease, I believe. But kindly so, and I am relieved. Of course, I haven’t seen your father yet. I can easily imagine that he might have more of a difficulty with this . . . situation than your mother. Fathers do, in general, anyway, I understand. Are you sure he was looking for something and not trying to avoid seeing us?”

Minerva giggled. “He’s just being his usual self. I think Mother will have seven kinds of fits when she sees him, actually. He had taken off his over-robe, and it must have fallen from the pile of books he set it on, because it was in a heap on the floor, and he was on his hands and knees, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, rummaging around, looking for something in some dusty old boxes. Said something about delicacy when I asked why he didn’t simply Summon whatever it was.”

“Oh, that’s all right, then. I can understand that,” Albus said with a nod.

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

CXLIX: The McGonagall Cliffs, continued

Minerva leaned against him. “I hope they’re a while.”

“Why? And, um, aren’t we supposed to be hailing a house-elf for some lemonade?” Albus asked, looking toward the house and hoping that neither Egeria nor Merwyn were on their way back down the path.

“Mmm, yes,” Minerva said with a slight sigh. She called Orents and requested a large pitcher of lemonade and four glasses. As soon as Orents had Disapparated, she turned to Albus and said, “You know, I am beginning to have an appreciation for gliders. I keep wanting to swing.”

“You do, do you?” Albus smiled at her, amused. “You are a Transfiguration Mistress, you know.” But he indulged her by pulling his wand from his pocket and waving it. “Not a glider this time, however.”

Chains with multicoloured links now held their seat suspended from the gazebo ceiling. Minerva pushed off with one foot and curled the other one under her, leaning further against Albus.

“Thank you,” Minerva said, and she pulled his head down and kissed him lightly. “Perhaps we can spend some time out here on the swing when we know we won’t be interrupted.”

Albus swallowed. “Well, I don’t think that we can ever know that, my dear. Someone could always come down from the house.”

“Mmm. I suppose. But I can just tell them that we would like a little time to ourselves,” Minerva answered, running a finger down his cheek to his beard.

“No, don’t do that. I mean to say, not this time. It’s . . . I don’t want them to think . . . that is . . .” Albus blushed.

Minerva smiled up at him. “All right. You indulged me, I will indulge you.” She sat up a bit more, and she could feel Albus relax. “You really are nervous,” she said, somewhat surprised.

“I’m sure you think it foolish of me, but yes, I am nervous,” Albus admitted. “Aren’t you?”

“A little bit, I suppose. But I really do think that they are probably pleased for me. And if they have known for a long time how I felt about you, they have had time to get used to the idea, even if they ever did have any reservations about it.”

“That may be, but . . . they may not only have reservations about it. Their reaction might be more visceral than that. Even if they have come to accept it intellectually, the reality of it might upset them. They might find the thought of their young daughter with an older man – a much older man – disturbing, disgusting, even.”

“I suppose that if you were just any old man, then they might, but they know you and they like you, and they know that I have known you for a long time,” Minerva replied. “Look, here they come now.” Minerva moved slightly further away from Albus, but kept her hand in his. She looked up at Albus and gazed into his eyes. Minerva whispered, “I won’t let go of you, though. I will hold on. I will hold on tightly.”

Albus smiled softly at that and gave her hand a squeeze. “That’s fine, my dear. Thank you.”

Minerva smiled brightly at him, then turned her head at her father’s voice greeting them.

-/-/-/-/-

“Pull a few radishes, too,” Egeria directed Minerva.

Minerva flicked her wand and several round, red radishes pulled out of the soil and were deposited in her basket.

Egeria shook her head and sighed. “You need to get down on your knees, Minerva, and look at them, even pull them by hand, preferably. But let’s go over to get the herbs now.” Egeria stood and waved her wand to clean a bit of soil from the front of her green and rust robes.

“I do hope that Dad isn’t saying anything to Albus that will make him uncomfortable,” Minerva said with a worried glance at the house, where the two wizards had disappeared a few minutes ago.

The four had sat in the gazebo for a while, and Albus mentioned that he had had lunch with Malcolm, and most of the subsequent conversation had focussed on Minerva’s oldest brother, the unusual fact that he had applied for a job at Hogwarts, the even more surprising fact that it seemed he had found a special witch, which everyone agreed was a good thing, and about Malcolm’s upcoming “practical interview,” as Albus liked to call it. Then Egeria had announced that she required Minerva’s help in the garden choosing the vegetables for dinner, and Merwyn said that was excellent, as it gave him the opportunity to ask Albus about something. Merwyn had brought Albus up to the house, and Egeria had dragged Minerva up to the kitchen gardens.

“He isn’t having a fatherly conversation with Albus, is he?” Minerva asked. “I should have had Albus come with us. I will not be happy if Dad is saying anything to put Albus off.”

“Shh, no, he isn’t. He is very happy for you. He may make a blunder or two – though he oughtn’t – but he likes Albus. This was my idea, actually. I wanted to be able to speak with you.” Egeria looked at her daughter appraisingly. “You look very happy. You feel happy. I am glad that everything worked out. I had been surprised, actually, when you came home last week and said that there was no hope for you and Albus. I had begun to get the feeling that he did care for you, too.” Egeria smiled and corrected herself, “Actually, I had begun to sense that he was utterly smitten with you.”

Minerva couldn’t help but return her mother’s smile. “I think he is, Mother. And I am very happy. I think I feel truly happy for the first time in many years. Even when I’m upset about something, or have a problem, it’s sitting on top of a bed of complete happiness, if that makes any sense at all.”

“It does, sweetness, it does. You didn’t ever say whether you two were staying the night, but you brought bags, so I assume – ”

“We aren’t sure of our plans, yet, Mother. I wanted to bring a bag with me so that I could take the few things I accidentally left last time, including my favourite shoes. Albus brought a different set of robes and some stout boots so that we can go on a walk,” Minerva explained. “But we may stay.”

“Whatever suits you, Minerva. But I had Orents fix the end bedroom for Albus, the large yellow one next to yours. But if you only wish to use one room, either one . . .”

Minerva blushed. “If we stay, we’ll use two rooms, Mother.”

“Of course. But I just wanted to let you know – you aren’t a child, Minerva. Make your own decisions. I would, of course, prefer not to walk into the library and discover the two of you in flagrante, but your wing of the house is quite private, and – ”

“Mother, please. I do appreciate it. But I would really rather not discuss it. And, well, we aren’t precisely at the ‘flagrante’ stage. He wants to court me properly, he says,” Minerva said.

“Ah, well, it’s best not to rush things. Enjoy it, Minerva, savour it. He’s likely nervous, as well. The age difference is probably causing him far more concern than it is you. His perspective is different from yours, and as I said when you were here on Friday, he is from a different time and place. He also has had experiences in his life that you and I, fortunately, have been spared, and that I can only dimly imagine.”

Minerva nodded. “I know. And I am trying to be patient and understanding. But sometimes . . . it can be frustrating. Basically, though, everything is truly wonderful. I know he loves me, Mother. He really does.”

“That is very good, my sweetheart,” Egeria said, putting an arm around her and leading Minerva over to a bench. “And I assume that he is sure of your love for him.”

“Yes, I think he is. He is becoming more sure of it. But he is surprisingly insecure about it, I find,” Minerva admitted to her mother.

“I am glad of that, Minerva. Very glad. And his sense of security is bound to increase.” Egeria looked out over the herb garden, seeming lost in thought as she watched the bees and the butterflies feast on the small blossoms that abounded in her garden. “You know, people sometimes do things, especially when they are young, in response to stress, to emotional devastation, that they never dreamed they would do, and would never do again. As I said, Albus has undergone trials that none of us could imagine.” Egeria looked at her daughter and took her hand. “You know that as a midwife, I have travelled much, spoken with many people, been privy to many secrets and more gossip than I could possibly ever repeat even were I so inclined. But when I was a young Healer, just beginning my midwife training, I learned something about Albus Dumbledore. He was becoming well-known for his work in Alchemy and Potions, and for his ability to deal with difficulties people found themselves in – a little like Malcolm, in fact. This was, oh, ninety-six, ninety-seven, sometime around then. I mentioned an article by Dumbledore to the Healer-Midwife I was training under. She was an older witch, and she was a bit of a gossip, but she told me something about this Dumbledore, this old school friend of my parents, that I hadn’t heard before and that I found surprising, although I did later hear other similar stories.”

“Mother, I don’t want to hear this.” Minerva withdrew her hand from her mother’s and began to stand.

“Please, Minerva, listen,” Egeria said gently. “Your Albus is a wonderful wizard, an admirable man, and I am very, very happy that you and he are together as you are. And I think you need to hear what I have to say.”

Minerva sat reluctantly and nodded. “I think I already know some of what you are about to tell me, but go ahead.”

Egeria smiled and patted Minerva’s leg. “Healer White told me that when her sister was living in Prague in the sixties, there was a young, auburn-haired wizard named Albus who ‘entertained’ the witches. Apparently this young man was also something of a drinker and . . . well, one of the witches whom this young wizard entertained was the Healer’s sister.” Egeria noticed that her daughter had closed her eyes, but she continued with her story. “He was sometimes recommended as offering a very good time, but, according to Healer White, he began to go downhill and became unpleasant company. I later heard from others who said that this young wizard had sunk into a life of drink and potions, and he’d even been thought dead for a long time, until he turned up in Britain again a few years later, scarcely recognisable as the young man who had gone so badly to seed, but also quite unlike the wizard who had first left Britain a decade before, when his wife had died. Many people doubted the truth of the stories, others enjoyed them, taking some pleasure in the notion that a seemingly respectable wizard was not so respectable underneath it all, but the stories died away. They are not often heard any longer, except by oblique reference. But I needed to tell you, because you might hear something from some uncharitable person, or from someone bitter who bears Albus a grudge. But know that from what I have heard and what I believe, Albus went through a very difficult period in his youth. First his wife died, then there was an incident with a wizard when he was trying to defend a friend, and then a few years later, he comes home, pulls his mother back from the brink of death, he believes, only to have her die just as she appears to be achieving a full recovery.

“Albus is a powerful wizard, as you know, Minerva, and quite probably the greatest genius of the wizarding world in several generations. That can put pressure on a young man, especially one who has grown up without his father, wanting to live up to an impossible standard, wanting to please a person who isn’t there to notice. My parents never lost their respect for him, though, and they knew him far better than any of the gossip-mongers could. And we have all seen the sacrifices Albus has been willing to make for the wizarding world. He is a good, kind, loving man, and I think that you, my sweet, young daughter, are going to be very good for him. And he for you, too. And you must not listen to anyone, even Albus, who implies anything different.”

The two witches sat in the garden for a while, listening to the buzzing of the bees and feeling the cool breeze come in off the unseen ocean.

“I think I knew most of what you told me, Mother,” Minerva finally said softly. “He told me some of it, including about his behaviour. It was just a few weeks ago. I don’t know why he felt he had to tell me then, when he had scarcely told me anything of his past before, but I think that he believed that I might not care for him any longer, that my opinion of him would suffer for knowing it, but it didn’t. Albus endured a great deal of pain and distress, and he survived it and became a better human being. He was reborn, in a way, he says. But thank you for telling me what you know and how you know it. And that you have always known, but you have always trusted him nonetheless.”

“Always, Minerva. Your father, I believe, is ignorant of this history – though I doubt very much that Siofre is – but I know that Merwyn trusts Albus, too. That isn’t the only reason that I brought this up, though, sweetheart,” Egeria said. “Nor was it to warn you of the nasty gossips in the world and what they might say. But you know, especially since Albus knows that you are fully aware of his past – since he himself informed you of it – he might fear that you would see his physical affection and remember his behaviour all those years ago, in a different lifetime, and that you would feel repulsed.”

“It’s worse than that, Mother,” Minerva said, finding it odd to be speaking to her mother about this topic, but at the same time, relieved that there was someone she could trust to talk to. “He was seeing Valerianna Yaxley a few years ago – ”

“Yes, I’d heard about that. But Albus stopped seeing her. I understand that he is the one who ended it.”

Minerva nodded. “He ended it because he caught her in bed with another wizard.”

“Oh, for – !” Egeria exclaimed, aghast. “Well, I’m glad for your sake that he did, but what a terrible thing for poor Albus!”

“Yes, and when he caught her at it, she told him that he was disgusting and unattractive, all manner of dreadful things. She was very angry when she said it, and she convinced him that what she said was true. So not only did she injure him by having sex with a wizard under Albus’s own roof – yes, Mother, in his own bed – but then her words affected him for all this time after. He was certain I would find his touch disgusting and him – I can’t even say it. It makes me absolutely sick. Valerianna Yaxley makes me ill.” Angry tears rose in her eyes, thinking about it.

“Well, you simply need to not only convince him that you most certainly do find him attractive, but that it can be fun. That you can enjoy each other,” Egeria said. “I am sure that you two will work it out. He certainly always seemed quite robust to me. I think that between the two of you, you will overcome whatever insecurities he may still have.”

“It does make me slightly concerned that he might believe that I am using him as those other witches did so long ago, but I think that he knows me well enough and knows that I love him, so that he would see that there are very essential differences. I hope so, anyway,” Minerva said. She smiled at her mother. “Thank you, Mother. I never would have dreamed of discussing any of this with you. It seems too embarrassing. But it was a relief, actually.”

“Good, I am glad, sweetness. And if you need any tips about birth control or any other spells – ”

“If I do, I will likely ask someone else. I haven’t forgotten the contraceptive charms you taught me before, after all,” Minerva said. “And as for the other spells, I’m sorry, Mother, but there really is a limit to what I feel comfortable discussing with my own mother!”

Egeria laughed. “Very well, but if you ever want a friendly ear, I’m here for that, as well.”

“I will remember that,” Minerva replied.

“Now, why don’t you go see if Albus requires rescuing. Tea will be in about a half hour. It will just be something light today, tea and scones, unless you’d like something more.”

“Actually, Mother, I’m starving. I ate a good lunch, but practising with Malcolm really seemed to take a lot of energy, and I’m hungry again.”

“All right,” Egeria said, standing. “I’ll go speak with Fwisky about making some sandwiches, too.”

Minerva found her father and Albus in the library looking at something written in Pali. Merwyn had unbuttoned his over-robe and was making notes on a small scrap of parchment.

Albus looked up and smiled brightly when he saw Minerva. “Hello, my dear! Your father was just showing me some rather puzzling text. Are you through assisting your mother? Can you join us?”

“I can join you, but I can’t read Pali or Sanskrit or whatever that is,” Minerva said, hoping that wasn’t something else that Albus assumed that she could do. “Tea will be in twenty minutes or so.”

“We were just about finished with this, anyway, Min,” Merwyn said. He looked over at Albus. “Do you mind if I go see what Egeria’s up to?”

“No, not at all,” Albus replied. “This was quite enjoyable, though.”

“I believe Mother is in the kitchen with Fwisky,” Minerva said.

Her father closed the door behind him when he left the library, and Minerva reached out and took Albus’s hand. Albus stepped closer and put his arms around her, sighing. Minerva gladly returned his embrace.

“Did you really enjoy yourself, Albus?” Minerva asked. “Or were you just being polite?”

“I did, and,” Albus said, “I was quite relieved that we only discussed this Pali text he’d been having difficulty with. I think it was because the concepts in it were not very familiar to him. But I had been concerned he had brought me up here to, well, to discuss you. And our relationship. But other than saying that he was glad that you were able to convince me to come, he didn’t mention it at all.”

Minerva nodded. “I thought they would be pleased, and I know Mother is. She told me that just now. I don’t think she has any reservations at all, if she ever had any.”

“That is a relief, then,” Albus said. “Not that it would have been determinative of anything, but it would be hard on you, and I would have been uncomfortable.”

Minerva raised her face to him and said, “Kiss me, Albus, please. It’s been hours since our last proper kiss.”

Albus grinned at her. “Hours? Has it been hours? And you would like a proper kiss? Let me see if I can manage a proper kiss.”

Albus raised one hand to cradle the back of her head, then he very slowly approached her, his lips coming a breath away from hers. “Minerva,” he said in a low voice, his lips just brushing hers as he said her name. “Minerva.”

His lips brushed hers again, just for a moment, then he softly kissed her. He repeated his soft kiss, this time taking her lower lip between his and simply holding it between them before he kissed her full on the mouth again. Then Albus gently sucked her lower lip before stroking it with a feathery touch of his tongue. Minerva moaned, and Albus moved his lips over hers, softly and sensuously, then he deepened the kiss, pulling her toward him, and Minerva’s embrace tightened. Finally, he ended the kiss much as he had begun it, with soft brushes of lip on lip.

Albus looked down at her and said in a warm voice, “Was that a proper kiss, my dear?”

Minerva opened her eyes. “Mmm.” She could barely think, but she said, “If a proper kiss makes you melt, that was a proper kiss.” Minerva let out a breath and lay her head against him. “I love you, Albus.”

“And I, you, my dearest Minerva,” Albus said softly.

They stood there like that for a few minutes, just savouring the embrace, then a sharp crack interrupted their moment of calm. Albus started to let go of Minerva, but she held onto him.

“Madam Egeria says that you should show the Professor where he may freshen up for tea,” Orents said. “It will be served in the morning room in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Orents,” Minerva said.

The house-elf bobbed his head at her cheerfully, then with another crack, he was gone.

Minerva led Albus upstairs to the first floor. “I told Mother we still hadn’t decided whether we would stay the night or not, and she was fine with whatever we choose to do,” she told him.

She brought him to the large, bright room at the end of the west wing of the house. “This room is for your use, whether we stay or not.” Minerva hesitated, then she decided that she shouldn’t mention to Albus that her mother had said she didn’t care whether they used one room or two. “There’s a bath and a loo here,” she said, gesturing at two closed doors, “and my room is right here, next to yours. If you need to use the loo or bath and these are in use, there’s another down near Malcolm’s old room, as well. To the left of the stairs we just came up. Mother and Dad are on the second floor, so you can’t disturb them.”

Albus nodded. His bag was at the foot of the large bed, and clean towels had been set beside it.

“I’m just going to run down the hall and use the other loo. I’ll be back in just a few minutes and we can go down together, all right?” Minerva said.

Albus nodded again. “Thank you, my dear.”

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

CXLIX: The McGonagall Cliffs, continued

Ten minutes later, they walked down the stairs together.

“It is odd to be in this house like this again. I used to come here occasionally before . . . before I went away, before Collum died. Dervilia and I actually stayed here once for a few days just after we were married. Aberforth, too. We were in the other side of the house, where you say Malcolm’s room is now, I remember. It is very much the same, and yet changed. Everything is . . . peculiar. It’s somewhat unsettling, if I may admit that to you,” Albus said. “I had actually almost forgotten that until we started up the stairs, then I remembered with almost a sense of déjà vu.”

Minerva stopped on the landing. “I’m sorry, Albus. Has this been terribly uncomfortable for you?” she asked with genuine concern.

“No, simply . . . odd, disorienting, I suppose,” Albus replied, though Minerva thought that he did look tired and drawn. “It was so long ago, it is almost like remembering a dream. Collum was actually almost five years younger than I, in Aberforth’s year, but he was in my House, and I was also good friends with Perseus. Perseus and Crispinian were cousins of some sort, and Crispy was great friends with Collum, who was only a couple years younger than he. Anyway, for some reason – I don’t remember why, now – we were all here for a few days that summer after my NEWTs. I had just married, and I remember that Dervilia persuaded me that we should accept the invitation because I would be beginning my apprenticeship soon and would have much less time for my friends. I hadn’t been inclined to, wanting to spend the time with her, and feeling that they were all still children while I was a married man – at all of eighteen! But we actually had a good time. I remember that the girls – Siofre and Gwyn – visited once for the day and gave Dervilia some relief from our masculine company.”

Now Minerva was beginning to feel peculiar. Gwynllian and Siofre, the “girls,” were her grandmothers. Perseus was Gwynllian’s brother, and Crispinian was her other grandfather. For a dizzying moment, Minerva felt as though she had stepped back in time, to a point when her Great-uncle Perseus was just a boy, friends with Crispinian, not knowing that Crispinian would marry his sister, Gwyn, nor that Collum would marry Siofre and die in an accident when his son, Merwyn, was just a baby. And Albus and Dervilia . . . that their happiness would be very short-lived.

Minerva shook herself internally. She looked up at Albus with a smile and said, “Let’s go have our tea, shall we?”

Albus smiled. “Excellent idea, my dear.”

Minerva took Albus’s arm and they walked together to the east-facing morning room for their tea.

-/-/-/-/-

By the time they had finished their tea, Minerva felt fully returned to the present, and she was pleased to see that Albus seemed to be restored, as well. Conversation had ranged from the coming school year and Minerva’s first year as Head of Gryffindor, to Robert Pretnick’s sad demise, to advances in Potions, to Thea’s health and that of her baby, due in October.

“Now, Minerva, you said that you and Albus wished to take a walk. Why don’t you do that now? You have quite a bit of time before dinner. It’s windy, but still fine.” Egeria turned to Albus. “Do you need anything? I am sure that we can find something for you if you do.”

“I believe I have what I need, but I shall certainly let you know if I don’t,” Albus replied with a smile.

The two went back upstairs, Minerva saying that she was going to change for their walk, as well. As Minerva found some appropriate robes in the wardrobe in her room, she thought again of Albus, changing clothes in the room next to hers. Wondering when he would finally make love to her, and whether he would always be shy around her, she wished she could join him as he disrobed, and that they could delay their walk . . . . Minerva rather doubted he would remain shy, but she knew that he still wanted to go slowly and romance her, despite their lovely experience on her couch the previous day. But now that they had accomplished that, broken that barrier, perhaps he would make love to her soon. She had the impression, though, that he wanted to wait until they were on holiday. Minerva didn’t want to wait that long, but she would be patient for him. After what he had said about having suddenly remembered being here as a young man with the teenagers who were to become her grandparents, Minerva could understand better some of Albus’s general discomfort. But they had overcome his Valerianna-induced insecurities, they could surely overcome any brought on by the difference in their ages.

Minerva dressed in some old long-sleeved, rust-coloured robes with a plaid bodice, shortening the skirts a few inches, and pulled on her walking boots. She considered bringing a short jacket or cloak, but decided that the sun was bright, and with a few warming charms, her robes would be sufficient. Rummaging through her bag, she located the folded parchments she had brought with her. Smiling, she placed them in her deep pocket, casting a charm to keep them safe.

There was a soft rap at her door, and Minerva opened it to find Albus waiting for her, wearing the same robes he had worn the day he had brought her on a picnic on the mountain across from Hogwarts.

Minerva smiled and said, “You look very handsome, as always!”

“Except when I wear those grey robes?” Albus asked with a twinkle.

She laughed. “You still look handsome from the neck up in those, but the robes themselves!” Minerva gave a mock shudder. “I do hope you weren’t terribly offended,” she said as she closed the door and they started down the hall.

“No, particularly not once I took a good look at them myself. Wilspy said they weren’t even suitable for rags, so I simply disintegrated them,” Albus said.

The two left the house and Minerva led him to her favourite path along the edge of the cliff. The path, such as it was, eventually disappeared as the ground became rockier and steeper. The wind grew sharper, and Minerva paused to cast a warming charm, offering one to Albus, who declined, saying he found the exertion and her company warming enough. Minerva couldn’t help but smile at him.

“How is it that you can make me so happy just by saying something like that?” she asked, pausing to turn and hold his hands, which, despite his declaration that he was warm, seemed somewhat cold to her.

“I am a fortunate wizard,” Albus replied, his eyes sparkling. He leaned forward slightly and kissed her forehead. “Do you have a destination in mind?”

“There is a spot, one of the highest on the property, that I like. It is a bit tricky to get to. If you don’t feel comfortable with the climb, we can Apparate. I could go ahead of you so you could easily see where you were going, whether we go by foot or Apparate,” Minerva said, “or I could give you a Side-Along.”

“I am game for the climb, I believe,” Albus said.

“It’s only another quarter mile, but it’s quite steep. We’ll have a nice appetite for dinner.”

The two made their way up the rocky slope.

“You actually do this frequently?” Albus asked.

“As often as practical, given that I don’t live here. This is only one of the walks I enjoy, though. I also enjoy walking east into the wood, or down to the sea,” Minerva replied. She drew her wand and cast a gloving spell on her hands. “You might want to protect your hands. The last bit is quite sheer. You will need to be able to grab on occasionally.” She cast one more charm to shorten her skirts another few inches.

Albus looked to his left, down the cliff side. The sound of the sea was closer, and he could hear the waves on the rocks below. “I hope you are careful, Minerva. We are very near the edge, and it is a very long way down.”

Minerva nodded. “I am always careful,” she said. She looked back and smiled at him. “Don’t like heights? I would think with your Animagus form, this would seem like nothing to you.”

“I haven’t wings at the moment, though, Minerva, and you never have any. I must admit that I dislike the thought of you clambering around on these rocks alone,” Albus admitted, “with no one here to stop your fall. And you have never learned to fly without a broom. I just worry that you might injure yourself, or worse.”

Minerva laughed. “Fly without a broom? No, haven’t mastered that, wouldn’t try. It’s not possible.”

It was Albus’s turn to laugh. “Not impossible, merely very rare in this part of the world. And the Ministry would like to keep it that way. Hard to regulate that sort of thing. Most witches and wizards couldn’t accomplish it, anyway.”

Minerva stopped and looked back at him. “You are joking, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. I rarely do it, myself, although when I was with Master Nyima, I became quite adept. I would sometimes fly with Mother Dragon. I think that is one reason she took a liking for me, actually.”

Minerva looked at him a moment, digesting this information, then she shook her head and continued the climb. Well, she hadn’t believed it was possible to become as completely invisible as Albus could, either. In fact, at the time, she had actually thought that she had always believed becoming invisible was as impossible as flight without a Charmed object. Apparently, it was, though not the way that she had believed. She should never underestimate Albus Dumbledore.

A few minutes later, Minerva paused again and pointed. “There, Albus. Do you see that large rock? On the other side of that, there is a lovely smooth, flat spot with another rock on the opposite side, as well. It’s fairly sheltered from the wind on three sides, and there’s a natural sort of bench there. I have occasionally thought of Transfiguring it, doing something to make it more comfortable, but I like it as it is, actually. There’s room for two, though,” she added with a smile. “So, would you prefer me to go on ahead so you can Apparate up to me, or would you like to climb?”

“You know, ever since we spoke of it, I’ve had a desire to fly. Would you feel abandoned if I were to transform and fly up there?” Albus asked.

“Not at all,” Minerva said with a smile. “I’m glad to know you want to exercise your Animagus form.”

“All right. But wait to climb up until I’m there, so I can catch you if you fall,” Albus said.

Minerva shook her head. “I won’t fall. I’d rather just keep moving. And you can always swoop down and catch me in your phoenix form,” she said with a smile.

Albus, somewhat reluctantly, agreed. He Transfigured into a phoenix and immediately shot up into the sky. Minerva watched him a moment, exhilarated. She couldn’t imagine any other wizard ever taking a phoenix form. It was rare enough for an Animagus to take on the form of a magical creature, but a phoenix – Albus must be unique in that, she thought, just as he was unique in so many other ways.

Minerva began to climb again, her arms and legs growing sore. Despite her daily regimen of walks and taking the many flights of stairs at Hogwarts, she was tired now, and would be very glad to reach her destination and sit on the warm rocks with Albus. Albus flew up, down, and around her, never coming too close to Minerva and startling her, but remaining reassuringly nearby. Finally Minerva pulled herself up the last few feet, and Albus settled on top of the rock just above her head and sang happily.

Minerva looked up at Albus and smiled, and his blue phoenix eyes twinkled down at her. “Yes, Albus, it is very beautiful here, isn’t it?” She stood and looked out over the ocean below for a while, listening to Albus’s song. The sun was lower in the sky, but it still shone warmly, and Minerva let out a sigh of perfect happiness and contentment.

Albus finished his song and hopped down onto the ledge that formed a natural bench behind her. With an impressive flash of fire, he transformed back into his ordinary form. He stepped down and put his arms around Minerva, pulling her back against his chest and kissing the top of her head.

“It is very beautiful, my dear, but its beauty cannot match yours,” Albus murmured.

Minerva turned in his arms and kissed him. “I love you, Albus. I love you, I love you, I love you.” She grinned. “It is so wonderful to be able to say that and know you won’t pat me on the back and tell me that you are ‘fond’ of me, too.”

“Ah – yes, that.” Albus looked out over her head. “My birthday,” he said. “You told me you loved me.”

Minerva nodded and held him more closely.

“I was so startled . . . I actually had wished that you loved me, as you know. I was fearful that somehow, my wish had caused you to say that. Obviously, I realised the absurdity of that fear immediately, but I still was at a loss for what to say. I was sure that if I told you I loved you, I wouldn’t be able to stop with that and that you would learn precisely how strongly I felt about you. That thought terrified me. I was so certain that you would be appalled, that you would feel sorry for me, pity me.”

“I pity both of us, that we were unable to admit our feelings to each other for so long,” Minerva said. “But that’s all over, now. Let’s sit a while.”

Albus agreed by backing up slightly, then letting go of Minerva to wave his hand and clear dirt and debris from the ledge. They sat, and Albus put his arms around her.

“Mmm, this is the nicest part of the climb,” Minerva said, leaning against him. She scootched even closer and lay across him.

The sun was warm and the breeze, brisk. Minerva looked up at him, smiling. Albus kissed her forehead and touched her cheek as she reached up to caress his face. She kissed his lips lightly, then once more as Albus closed his eyes, savouring the moment, the warmth of the sun, the cool wind, Minerva, soft in his arms.

Albus opened his eyes as Minerva smiled up at him. “Minerva, Minerva . . . you are really here, my dearest.”

“Yes, I am really here,” she replied, laying her palm against his cheek, cool and pink from the wind and his exertion.

“I had a dream . . . it seemed hardly a dream, it was so real. And this, it was just like this, Minerva,” he said softly. “And when I woke from the dream, you were there, waking me, and I was very confused. And now, you are here, but it is not a dream.”

“No, not a dream,” Minerva said, and she reached up to kiss him again. “Much nicer than any dream,” she added before kissing him again.

They sat for a while like that, kissing and speaking of nothing in particular. Finally, Albus suggested that perhaps they ought to be getting back to the house.

“Not yet, Albus. Let’s stay longer. We can Apparate back. Or you could fly – in your phoenix form – and give me a lift! You used to threaten me with that, remember?” She asked with a grin.

Albus smiled. “Yes, that was a long time ago. I never would have done, you know. But it bothered me, the way you would wander about in your Tabby form, seemingly oblivious to the dangers around you. You still seem not to be completely aware of how vulnerable you are in your Animagus form,” Albus said.

“I am. I am normally quite cautious. Not as cautious as some would have me be, but where would be the fun in that? And as a student, I never went into the Forest in my Animagus form. You just were worried because of that time when the dog chased me and I forgot that I could transform. I was very embarrassed. I don’t know which embarrassed me more, having let the dog chase me all the way back from Hogsmeade, or having you see me in tears when I finally reached the gates and returned to my ordinary form,” Minerva said with a laugh. “But I would trust you to carry me, you know.”

“Mm, we will see,” Albus said before kissing her on the forehead again. “But we can stay longer. It is nice here.”

“It is. Very romantic, I think. Though not as romantic as your rooftop the other night. That was wonderful,” Minerva said with a sigh.

“And you were wonderful – and very, very warm.” Albus kissed her lips. “Very warm,” he murmured.

Minerva reached up and put her arms around his neck. She moaned softly as Albus caressed her from her breast to her hip and back again.

“I would like to see you that warm again, my dear, but somewhere more . . . secure than this,” Albus said, pulling her into his embrace.

“I think you could make me very warm, very easily,” Minerva said softly.

“Yes, but . . . I believe that the next time, I would like to make you even . . . warmer. As you were last night,” Albus whispered. “That was very stimulating. You were irrepressible. I had quite nice dreams last night. And I didn’t wake myself from them.”

“Well, I’m glad of that!” Minerva said looking at him, puzzlement in her eyes. “Why ever would you wake yourself from them?”

“Oh, various reasons,” Albus said. “Not wanting to imagine things that I could never have, not wanting to tempt myself into imprudence, but chiefly out of respect for you, my dear.”

Minerva caressed his face, thinking about what he said. “Feel free to dream or imagine whatever you wish, Albus. Perhaps you might even be inspired,” Minerva said, a sparkle in her eyes.

“I will certainly let you know if I am,” Albus replied with a soft kiss on her cheek.

“You know, speaking of inspiration, I love the poem you wrote for me.”

“I am glad. I know it doesn’t scan and its metre and rhythm are very far from perfect – ”

“Shh.” Minerva stopped him, bringing her fingertips to his lips, and said, “It was perfect to me, Albus. It is beautiful. I have read it a few times since, but I would love to hear you read it to me. Would you, Albus?”

“Oh, if you would like, I will sometime,” Albus said.

“Now?” Minerva asked, shifting, then feeling around her deep pocket to find the parchment she had placed there before their walk. She pulled it out. “Read it to me now, Albus, please?”

Albus looked at her hesitantly, wanting to decline, but not wanting to refuse her. “Yes, all right, I will.”

“Cast a charm first – I don’t want the wind taking the parchment from your hand and lose it forever. I would be very unhappy if I were to lose it,” Minerva said.

Albus cast the spell, pocketed his wand again, then took the folded letter from Minerva’s hand. He brought the second page forward and blinked at it.

“I need my glasses, my dear. They’re in an inner pocket of my over-robe. You’ll need to sit up a bit.” Albus put his glasses on and Minerva settled back against him.

“Read the entire poem, Albus, even the first lines. They were sweet and amusing,” Minerva said.

Albus read over the poem and the words that followed it. He did feel strongly for Minerva, and the verses did catch some bit of his love for her. He kissed Minerva’s temple, then he began to read the words that he had written weeks before, beginning softly, and his voice growing slightly hoarse with emotion as he remembered how he had missed Minerva when he wrote it and how desperate he had been when he had finally sent it to her with the letter admitting his love for her.

How do I respect thee? May I count the ways?
Sweeter than any putrid potion,
More scintillating than Transfiguration class,
Of greater worth than any treaty,
Thus I respect thee.

I respect thee as night respects the dawn, and day, the dusk.
Beyond twilight’s dim reach and unto the noon-day sun,
Thus do I respect thee.
How do I esteem thee? Shall I count the ways?
Unto heaven’s vast extent,
Far beyond the reach of phoenix’ flight,
Where no hoary mountain peak may grasp,
Beyond summer’s heat or winter’s rime,
Thus do I esteem thee.
I regard thee humbly,
As strength and will and hope,
Undulled by care of time
Or wear of woe, shine from thee.

I shall esteem thee more as life falls long,
As spark and breath, no longer strong,
Companion sun’s borrowed light,
Fading unto pale moon, and then to night.
Yet my regard for thee can but wax and grow,
An expanding passion to onward flow
And fill my heart, my mind, my soul,
With thoughts of thee and only thee again,
Turning once and always unto thee,
To find thee only ever there.

For thus I love thee, countless ways,
Far beyond death’s frail caul,
Unfettered by life’s scanty bonds,
Loving thee without beginning,
Loving thee without ending,
With all I am and have to give.
Thus do I love thee and thee alone,
My life, my hope, my dearest one.

“You are my life and my hope, Albus,” Minerva said as he finished. There were tears in her eyes. “My life and my hope. And I will love you forever.”

---

Note: Thanks for all your comments on the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one!

[dianahawthorne]

Loved this chapter - I'm glad that Albus is getting over his nervousness, and I'm glad that he knows that Egeria and Merwyn approve! Great chapter, as always, and I'm looking forward to the next chapter - hopefully with some LEMONADE!

[Hogwarts Duo]

YOU ARE A GODDESS!! I was having a really cruddy day at work and I get home to find an update from you…woo hoo. My day just improved by leaps and bounds!

Merwyn and Egeria are so cute together. I love their playfulness and how they seem to still be so much in love. The bit about them missing sleep and making up for it had me in stitches as well as Merwyn’s suggestion that they toddle off for a “nap” later. Umm, yeah, right…a nap…wink wink!

“Now, do you remember the rules for the day, dearest?” Egeria asked, turning back to Merwyn.

“Yes, um, mention his advanced years at every opportunity, accuse him of stealing my baby away – ouch!” Merwyn cried in mock distress when Egeria tapped his arm with her open hand.

“Be serious, Merwyn! No teasing him, please. Especially not where Minerva could hear,” Egeria said, restraining a sigh. Malcolm and Murdoch certainly took after their father with their teasing and jokes, or what they thought were jokes. Morgan, on the other hand, could do with some lightening up. A perfectly sweet son, Morgan, and quite cheerful, both man and boy, but too serious most of the time.

“All right, all right. No calling Minerva ‘Minnie-girl’ or ‘Minnie-lass,’ no discussion of her time as Albus’s student unless one of them brings it up, no mention of his time as a student with our parents . . . what am I missing?” Merwyn asked. Then he grinned and said, “Oh, yes, no calling Albus ‘sonny-boy.’”

This had me laughing so hard. I can just imagine Minerva’s parents going through the routine and it sounds hysterical in my head. Seems Egeria laid down the law to her hubby but I’m sure that if he’s a good lad and behaves while Albus and Minerva are visiting, he’ll be properly and richly rewarded. Tee hee.

Albus and Minerva’s chat when they first arrived on the McGonagall property was so sweet. The fact that Albus asked her not to let go was so touching, romantic, and vulnerable. I think he’s come a long way since not being able to admit his feelings to her to asking her to not let go of him. And, as always, Minerva’s response was sheer perfection. She knows just what to say to put him at ease and move them forward one more step.

That isn’t the only reason that I brought this up, though, sweetheart,” Egeria said. “Nor was it to warn you of the nasty gossips in the world and what they might say. But you know, especially since Albus knows that you are fully aware of his past – since he himself informed you of it – he might fear that you would see his physical affection and remember his behaviour all those years ago, in a different lifetime, and that you would feel repulsed.”

I’m thankful that Egeria took a few minutes to talk to Minerva about all the nastiness from decades ago with Albus. I think it gave Minerva some additional insight into his insecurities and feelings, some that she desperately needed before they move forward with their courtship/romance. And knowing is half the battle. I have no doubts that Minerva will take the information from her mother and put it to good use when the time is right.

After what he had said about having suddenly remembered being here as a young man with the teenagers who were to become her grandparents, Minerva could understand better some of Albus’s general discomfort. But they had overcome his Valerianna-induced insecurities, they could surely overcome any brought on by the difference in their ages.

Wow, this chapter was just filled with little gems of information for Minerva. Again, I think this is going to help her to help him overcome his last barrier so they can truly be together in all ways. His deja-vu moment was certainly an eye opener for Minerva, as well as for me. I mean, I knew that Albus was older than Minerva’s grandparents, etc but when he spoke of the “girls” and the way he described the youthful atmosphere of the house, it drove home the point of their ages. Now that Minerva realizes that fact too, she can better attack his insecurities on age. GO MINERVA! ;D

“I had a dream . . . it seemed hardly a dream, it was so real. And this, it was just like this, Minerva,” he said softly. “And when I woke from the dream, you were there, waking me, and I was very confused. And now, you are here, but it is not a dream.”

I remember that dream!! Isn’t that the one where he’s on the sofa and she wakes him? Or was that another dream? ACK! I love that he remembered the dream, though. He’s such a romantic at heart. And reading her the poem…dreamy sigh. I could hear Richard Harris’ voice in my mind and it sounded absolutely beautiful.

I’m looking forward to the next update so I hope it’s soon. Lord knows I can use the wonderful chapters if work keeps with the current trend. BAH!

Hope you have a great weekend and thanks for being here today when I needed you most!

Cheers,
GLM

[esoterica1693]

Have read 2xs but haven't had time to review. Am attending a conference on Celtic spirituality--Minerva and Albus (and Quin) would enjoy. <g> A mention that some linguists think Gaelic and Sanskrit are related, so maybe Min would find her dad's mss easier than she thinks (though I rather doubt the theory...).

Especially loved the hold on to me parts, and Egeria's talk w/ Min--esp her comment about what Albus may fear. And the 1 bedroom. Go Egeria. And the deja vu w/ the grand-generation--good insight for Min into why Albus is struggling so. Good for Egr's mum and Egr for not holding the rumours against APWBD.

Now back to the conference, complete w/ steel-cut oats for breakfast. No haggis, though--thank goodness!

The conf is in our cathedral, which we don't heat in the winter, b/c here in SoCal we rarely need to. But right now it'd give both Iona and Hogwarts a run for their money for cold and draughty...I'll be wearing a turtleneck, sweater, boots, and a long wool coat--indoors--and am even debating pulling gloves out of the bin which I haven't opened since leaving MN. Oh for some good warming charms!

[esoterica1693]

BTW, I think one of my favourite bits in the chapter was Egeria asking Orents to tell Merwyn that "Minerva and Albus are home." That said it all right there, and I bet it made Minerva purr inside. Albus shouldn't have had one more moment's worry after that. I just love Egeria. Since their nest is empty, could she and Merwyn pleeeeeze adopt me? You could even give me a name starting w/ "M" so I'd fit in.....

[minerva62]

Love that chapter!
Love the reappearance of Dilys giving Albus some advice about his outfit......
Love Merwyn's and Egeria's banter.... ;D
Love the romantic setting on the cliff and Albus reading the poem to Minerva...*happy sigh*
Looking forward for more as always...

[esoterica1693]

This morning's preacher told a joke which I think Albus would appreciate. The preacher was a Scot, so it was even told w/ an Albus-like accent. <g> .... It wouldn't need much tweaking to work in ADMM.. <g>

- - - - -
The son lay in bed, refusing to get up, much to his father's consternation.
'Father, I am not going to school today, and I will give you three reasons:
1) school is boring;
2) the children tease me;
3) education is pointless.'

'Son, you have to get up and go to school, and I will give you three reasons:
First, it is your duty;
secondly, you are 45 years old; and
lastly, you are the Headmaster.'
- - - -

[minerva62]

Haha....Gave me a good laugh on an otherwise desolate day.

Thank you!

[MMADfan]

Note: Because of mature content & language, this version of the chapter has been extensively edited. The full, unexpurgated version of the chapter is available in the Lemons forum.

Posted in two parts because of length.

CL: Realising Love

Minerva sat up and kissed Albus’s cool, wind-reddened cheek.

“This has been a lovely afternoon, Minerva,” Albus said, putting an arm around her. “I am glad I agreed to accept the invitation. I do hope it wasn’t the calm before the storm, however, and that it doesn’t take a turn for the worse at dinner.”

“Albus Dumbledore! Where does this come from? Are you normally a closet pessimist and I just never knew it?” Minerva asked, but she didn’t wait for an answer, instead, gesturing out toward the sea and adding, “There is a storm brewing, though. I think we ought to get back now.”

The sky was iron grey, the winds were stirring the waves, and the sound of the sea slapping the rocks below was louder than it had been.

Albus nodded. “Yes, we should get back to the house.” He stood, pulling Minerva to her feet and kissing the top of her head. “Shall we Apparate? I don’t care for the idea of being caught in a storm up here.”

“That’s a good idea. There is a small cave a little ways away, just off the path we followed up here. I had to duck in there one summer when I was a child, before I could Apparate, when I hadn’t realised how close the storm was. Mother and Dad were rather frantic at the thought of me out here in the storm. I didn’t like the cave very much – you know me and closed, dark spaces. I didn’t have my wand with me, either, since I was still underage, and so I couldn’t have any light,” Minerva said. “It was dark, cold, and damp. I was pretty miserable. The rain didn’t let up until almost midnight, and I remember that I decided to start for home even though it was still raining – that soft, pervasive, misting rain we get up here sometimes. The stones were slippery, and I fell several times. It was the only time that I was actually afraid that I might fall over the edge. But Mother had Apparated to find Malcolm as soon as the lightning subsided, and about halfway back to the house, I saw a light and a figure on the path. It was Malcolm, calling out for me, his wand held up in a Lumos. I was so grateful to see him. I was soaked to the bone, shivering with cold. He put his warm, heavy, wonderfully dry wool cloak around me, then he picked me up and Apparated me home. It was one of the few times anyone Apparated me that I didn’t become sick, but that could just be because I already felt so sick and scared. Malcolm was a good big brother, in his own way.”

Albus kissed the side of her head. “I am glad to hear that. It’s good to know that he can be reliable when needed.”

Minerva sighed and leaned against him. “I suppose we should go, or we’ll have to camp out in that little cave. Even with you here with me, and my wand at hand, I wouldn’t want to have to do that.”

“I’ll Apparate us both, if that is agreeable to you,” Albus said.

“Very.” She looked up at him. “You are extremely attractive at the moment, though, with the wind in your hair like it is. . . . You don’t suppose . . .”

“What?”

“Can you, well, perhaps not . . . I was just wondering how it would feel to kiss you when you Apparate.”

Albus’s eyes sparkled, and he put his arms around Minerva, holding her closely. He gently kissed Minerva’s lips, then as he deepened the kiss and pulled her against him, Minerva felt a shimmer of his magic, and when Albus broke the kiss and she opened her eyes, she saw that they were in front of the house.

Minerva smiled. “You are very talented, Albus.”

Albus grinned and winked at her. “I do like to try something new occasionally.”

Cold, fat drops of rain began to fall, and the two hurried into the house. Merwyn stuck his head out of the library and offered them each a warming Scotch. Albus accepted, but Minerva demurred, saying she would prefer either a sherry or a Gillywater. A few minutes later, Minerva and Albus were sitting on the sofa, sipping a sherry and a whisky, respectively, and Merwyn adding another splash of whisky to his own glass.

Egeria came in and said, “I’ll have a whisky, too, Merwyn. Then why don’t we go into the sitting room? We do have one.”

“I think we’re all comfortably settled here, dearest,” Merwyn said, giving her a bus on the cheek as he handed her her glass.

“But there are more windows. We can watch the storm from there,” Egeria said, still standing near the door.

“Mm, I think you have an unnatural appreciation of precipitation,” Merwyn said, but he turned and said to Albus and Minerva, “Would you care to join us in the sitting room and watch the rain? It is most entertaining. Or so I have been told.” Egeria elbowed him lightly in the ribs and he grinned.

Albus said that he wanted to change before dinner, and Minerva agreed. It didn’t take them long, and they soon rejoined Merwyn and Egeria in the sitting room. The settled down comfortably, a fire blazing in the fireplace, and watched the rain come down in hard sheets, pounding on the windows, the wind whipping the branches of the bushes and flattening some of the more delicate flowering plants.

“I am glad that Johannes helped me in the gardens,” Egeria said. “Even with the ordinary charms, these storms used to be hard on my poor plants. But these new charms he placed, and the microclimate charms he helped me to recast, they are very robust. The gardens have been holding up very well. He is a gem. I am sure he will do quite well in business for himself.”

Conversation turned to Hogwarts and the various staffing changes coming in the next year. At twenty-five past seven, Orents popped into the sitting room and announced that dinner would be served in five minutes. Egeria excused herself to see if Fwisky needed her in the kitchens, and a sudden awkward silence fell over the remaining three, seeming to emanate from Albus and radiate outward to encompass the other two.

Merwyn took the last swallow of his whisky, then said, “So, Albus, have you had a holiday at all this summer? From everything I’ve heard, it’s been nothing but work for you.”

“I took a couple of days and went to visit Thea and Robert,” Albus replied, “and I stopped at my cottage to take care of a few maintenance tasks.”

Merwyn smiled. “Thea was looking quite well the last time we saw her. Egeria went again on Monday, just for the afternoon, and she said that Thea is not showing the slightest sign of illness, and the baby is growing very well. She believes her to be past the danger point and that she will give birth to a healthy baby girl in late October.”

“I am sure that Gertrude will be very pleased,” Minerva said. “I assume that she knows already, though. But I know that it had bothered her terribly, and I am certain she will enjoy having a grandchild.”

Merwyn smiled softly. “I remember when Melina was born. Alessandrina was so happy, and Murdoch was beside himself. I don’t think he knew which way was up. Such a pretty baby, she was.”

“All babies are pretty, Dad.”

Merwyn shook his head. “Some are downright ugly, although fortunately most outgrow that quickly. But all babies are adorable and lovable. And according to Egeria, they all smell wonderful.”

“They do . . . there’s just something about a baby. Baby head, especially. You just want to pick them up and cuddle them and smell their sweet little heads,” Minerva said, a silly smile on her face.

“Mmm, until they need their nappies changing,” Merwyn said. “Then they don’t smell so sweet. But I’m glad that Melina and Brennan have decided to wait a few years before starting a family. Although Brennan doesn’t want to wait too long. He says he doesn’t want to be an old man raising his kids, ready to retire and still with children to support.” Suddenly Merwyn seemed flustered, almost taking a drink from his empty glass. “Of course, Brennan is a Muggle. Things are different for Muggles. And it’s time now for dinner. Better go in.”

Merwyn stood and started out of the sitting room back toward the dining room. Minerva reached for Albus’s hand, but he seemed not to notice, and he followed her father out into the hall. Minerva furrowed her brow then sighed. Albus had seemed uncomfortable even before they had begun to talk about babies, and then her father mentioned Brennan and his age . . . probably the best way to repair the awkwardness in this instance was simply to move on past it and not create a bigger issue of it.

Dinner was, fortunately, much more relaxed, with Egeria adroitly steering the conversation. Minerva had to admire her mother and her ability to keep the discussion interesting but away from anything that might tend to lead Albus to feel uncomfortable. By the end of the meal as they were eating their Stilton and pears, everyone was relaxed and Albus seemed to have forgotten his earlier moment of discomfort. All moved on to the library, where Egeria poured them each a glass of Drambuie and Merwyn invited Albus for a game of chess.

Albus looked over at Minerva questioningly. Minerva grinned. “Go ahead! I’d like to see you two play a game. I might learn a thing or two that I could use against you – and it will be much easier to pay attention than when Dad plays with Malcolm.”

As Merwyn set up the chessboard, Albus asked, “Why is that?”

“Malcolm gets his pieces to play in a violent and almost bloodthirsty way. I have never seen anything quite like it. They howl and clash their armour and behave like little barbarians,” Minerva said.

Merwyn grinned. “I occasionally consider playing with the Muggle set with him, but it’s funny to see him go through his antics and then his disappointment when he still loses.”

Albus chuckled and the two men sat down on either side of the board, Merwyn offering Albus white.

As Albus moved out his queen’s pawn, he said, “That is actually helpful for me to know for Saturday. He will probably try something similar to throw me off.” Albus grinned. “I look forward to that!”

“He was asking me about the wards and whether you would have an advantage over him and whether there would be any restrictions on him because of them,” Minerva said. “I didn’t know what to tell him.”

Albus shook his head. “Theoretically, I could have an advantage because we will be at Hogwarts, but I won’t use that in this instance. I have a sufficient natural advantage over him.”

“I wouldn’t be complacent, though, Albus,” Minerva said. “He may not have your skill or power, but he might still have some tricks up his sleeves.”

“I am counting on that. Malcolm strikes me as a resourceful and inventive wizard. I hope this will be at least somewhat taxing for me. I haven’t many opportunities to exercise these skills of late, and I do not want to fall out of practice.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Minerva asked.

Albus nodded. “It would. But it is not a topic for a night such as this, relaxing with friends.”

“No, it isn’t – let me get on with beating him,” Merwyn said, grinning.

The two men played as Minerva looked on and Egeria read the journal, Modern British Healcraft. Finally, Merwyn sat back in his seat and watched as Albus made a final move, placing him in checkmate.

“So, are you two staying the night?” Egeria asked. “You needn’t of course, but you might prefer to leave in the morning after breakfast. The weather is still fairly nasty. Whether you Apparated or Flooed, you would still have a rather wet walk up to the castle.”

Albus looked at Minerva. “If Minerva would like to stay, that would be fine with me. We could leave in the morning, as you say, Egeria.”

Minerva nodded. “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you, Mother.”

“Nonsense – it is your home. No thanks needed. Nor from you, Albus. You must feel right at home here, as well. In fact, we will add you to the family wards, won’t we, Merwyn? That way, you can Apparate directly into the house or Floo through without calling ahead. No standing on ceremony.” At Albus’s half-formed protest, Egeria added, “Whether you take advantage of it or not, is up to you, but we will add you in the morning before you leave. And I do hope you will avail yourself of the convenience.”

Albus, seeing that protest was futile, said, “Thank you, Egeria, that is very gracious of you. I do appreciate it. Thank you both for a very lovely evening.”

“Now, if you will excuse us, I believe that we will retire for the night,” Egeria said, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “But you two feel free to play chess or do whatever you like. We will see you in the morning.”

As the two left, bidding Minerva and Albus good-night, Albus could have sworn he saw Merwyn pat Egeria on the bottom as they went out the door.

“Would you like to play a game of chess, my dear?” Albus asked, turning to Minerva.

“Not really. I’m actually quite tired. It’s been quite a day, between practice with Malcolm this morning and our walk this evening. Why don’t we just sit a while and enjoy the fire, then we can go up to bed?”

Albus joined Minerva on the sofa, putting his arm around her as she settled her head on his shoulder.

“It was a very nice day, Minerva,” Albus said, turning his head and giving her a light kiss. “I am glad I agreed to come. Your parents were . . . well, they were themselves.”

“I didn’t expect anything else of them,” Minerva said. “I was a little worried that one or the other might give you a bit too much of a welcome, with long speeches about how they thought our relationship was good and they wish us well, and so forth – which could be uncomfortable for you – but they didn’t. It was good of Mother to want to include you in the family wards, though I did get the sense from you that you weren’t very happy with the idea.”

“I don’t mind, really. I was simply surprised that they would want to extend them to me,” Albus replied.

“You aren’t precisely a stranger, Albus, and you have been a visitor here in the past. It would be quite convenient if I am ever here and you come out to join me later,” Minerva said. “But you can still Apparate to the front garden, if you prefer, and knock on the door. Feeling at home, though, would be much more convenient.”

Albus chuckled. “I suppose it would be.”

“I’m sorry, Albus, but my eyes are just closing of their own accord here. Why don’t we go up and get ready for bed, hmm?” Minerva suggested.

The two went upstairs, Minerva again going down the hall to use the bathroom at the other end of the house. She pondered taking a shower, then decided that would wake her up, so she just washed then changed into her nightgown and pulled on her dressing gown. She returned to her bedroom just as Albus was stepping out of the bathroom dressed in his nightshirt, his robes over one arm and his boots and socks in his other hand.

“Even though I brought a nightshirt, I didn’t really anticipate staying,” Albus said awkwardly. “I didn’t bring a dressing gown or slippers.”

“Oh, well, I can help you with that. I’ll just be a minute!”

“You needn’t bother, I – ”

“It’s no bother. Be right back!” Minerva said cheerfully.

She turned and ran back up toward Malcolm’s room, where she opened the wardrobe and found an old dressing gown of green and blue tartan wool. She could just give him some of her socks to Transfigure into a pair of slippers. Minerva hurried back down the hall and rapped on Albus’s partially open door.

“Come in,” Albus called.

“Here – it’s something old of Malcolm’s. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I was going to get you something to Transfigure into slippers, but I see you’ve managed,” Minerva said, noticing the fluffy grey slippers on his feet.

“Yes, I Transfigured the woolen socks I wore on our walk,” Albus explained as he stood from his perch at the foot of the bed and took the dressing gown from Minerva. “Thank you, my dear. I don’t know as I will need it, but it is nice to have.”

“I thought we might have some tea before bed. I can call Orents, but I usually just go down to the kitchen and fix it myself. Would you like to join me?” Minerva asked.

Albus nodded and shrugged on the dressing gown and tied the sash about him. He followed Minerva down to the kitchen, where Orents and Quimpy were sitting at the house-elves small table drinking butterbeer together.

“Don’t get up,” Minerva said. “We’re just down to get ourselves a cup of tea. How are you, Quimpy?”

“Just dandy, Miss Minerva, but busy busy with Miss Melina’s wedding coming and setting up her new house,” Quimpy replied.

“Well, I’m happy you could drop by and visit your brother. Did you see Fwisky, too?” Minerva asked.

“Yes, but she went to bed. She gets tired more now,” Quimpy said sadly.

Orents added, more brightly, “But she feels better during the day.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Minerva replied. Turning to Albus, she explained, “Tchierie, Fwisky’s mate, died in June.”

“Ah, my condolences,” Albus said, addressing Orents and Quimpy, who bobbed their heads in response.

Minerva made them tea, a blend of different mints and catnip, and Albus Levitated the tray for her.

“I thought we could have it in your room,” Minerva said. “It has that nice little table and chairs. My room just has the desk, a straight-back chair, and a rocking chair.”

Albus nodded in agreement and followed her up the stairs, the tray floating smoothly in front of him. When they reached the bedroom, he set the tray down on the table. Minerva began to pour their tea, adding a little honey to Albus’s.

“Are you going to sit down, Albus?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Albus sat in the other little chair across from her.

“I should have asked whether you wanted a book or something to read before bed,” Minerva said before taking a sip of her tea. “I have a few in my room, or you could go back and borrow something from the library.”

“I am rather tired, but perhaps something light,” Albus replied.

“That’s about all that is left in my room. I brought most of my books with me, so there are only a few novels and some books that I enjoyed as a child,” Minerva replied.

“Oh? What children’s books?” Albus asked, his interest suddenly piqued.

“Well, I think there’s still a copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, some Sir Walter Scott, of course, a rather luridly illustrated copy of Spenser’s Faerie Queene, and Emil und die Detective – Dad’s idea of an educational book. He didn’t give up hope for years that I would follow in his footsteps. But he was happy to see me strike off into Transfiguration,” Minerva said. “And there’s fairy tales, both the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. The Hans Christian Andersen stories always made me cry, so I didn’t read them as much.”

“I read those fairy tales when I was a boy, too. Some of the Grimm stories were quite grisly,” Albus said. “The Andersen tales were sad, but they were beautiful, and I preferred them. My mother liked poetry, so I also read quite a bit of poetry growing up. It was how I learned to read, actually. And I know of the Alice stories, of course, and have read Alice in Wonderland, but I never read Through the Looking-Glass.”

“No? Well, why don’t you borrow that tonight, then, and you can bring it with you. We’ll bring the set of Lewis Carroll with us. There’s another volume with some of his poems. The drawings in all of them are nice.”

They finished their tea and Minerva stood. She looked at Albus. “Are you coming?” When Albus looked at her blankly, she said, “To fetch the book. Unless you’re too tired. You seem sleepy.”

Albus smiled. “I am a little sleepy, but it would be pleasant to have something light to read.”

Continued in the next post!

[MMADfan]

Continued from the previous post!

CL: Realising Love, continued

Minerva led him into her bedroom and showed him the few books on the shelves. “Here’s Through the Looking-Glass, but if you’d like any of the others instead, help yourself.”

“Oh, Rob Roy!” Albus exclaimed. “I enjoyed that as a boy. My Uncle Christopher gave it to me for my tenth birthday. I don’t know whatever happened to it.”

“Here, it’s yours, then, Albus,” Minerva said, handing it to him, “if you ever want to reread it. And there’s Ivanhoe and St. Ronan’s Well, too.”

“Oh, I can’t take your book, Minerva – ”

“Don’t be absurd, Albus. Of course you can,” she said with a laugh.

Albus grinned at her. “I’ll relive my childhood, then, rereading it. But I’ll start with the Lewis Carroll tonight, I think,” he said, picking up the Scott and Through the Looking-Glass.

“Sleep well, Albus,” Minerva said. “I’ll wake you in the morning, if you’re not up.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Albus replied. “It has been a lovely day.”

“It has been – but don’t leave just yet,” Minerva said with a smile, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I need another proper kiss – and we also need to ensure that doppelganger-Albus doesn’t make a surprise reappearance!”

Albus set the books down on the bed. Minerva’s hair was down and gathered loosely behind her head. She was completely appealing and attractive at that moment. He caressed her cheek, then placed a finger beneath her chin to tilt her face toward him, but he didn’t kiss her yet. He looked into her eyes as he slowly approached her, then he paused and let out a sigh.

“You are too beautiful for words, Minerva, so wonderful,” he said softly, “and so very, very attractive. You were worth waiting a lifetime for.”

Albus brought his lips to hers and kissed her gently, then kissed her once more softly. “Good night, sweet dreams, my dear.”

Minerva smiled and drew her hands down his chest. “Good night, Albus. I will see you in the morning.”

Minerva watched as Albus stepped out her door with his books, giving her a last little wave. It was hard to see him go, return to his room and his separate bed, but hopefully, if she were patient, he would lose his final reservations and they could spend some nights together before school started and that became nearly impossible. She closed her door most of the way, but didn’t latch it, and then opened her window and got into bed.

The thought of the beginning of the school year depressed her. She and Albus would have so many duties, there would be so many people around, the full staff would be there, all meals would be taken in the Great Hall with the students . . . how would they ever have any privacy or any time alone together, she wondered. They would simply have to be inventive, use their time wisely.

Minerva extinguished her lights and rolled over. She could see that Albus’s light was still on, and feeling some comfort in the knowledge that Albus was close by, just in the next room, lying in bed with one of her favourite childhood books, Minerva gazed at the light seeping in through her door, her eyelids growing heavier, until, finally, she fell asleep.

Minerva woke a little before six, the pale early morning light waking her gently. She rose quietly and went down the hall to take a quick shower and dress. Fifteen minutes later, she was showered, dressed, and ready to start her day.

Albus had closed his door in the night, and Minerva tapped on it softly, not wanting to jolt him from his sleep. Slowly and quietly, she opened the door. Albus was lying on his side, sound asleep. It was early still. He had said that he had an appointment at eleven, although he did have work to do that day. Still, it seemed a pity to disturb his sleep. Minerva stood in the doorway for a moment, torn between waking him, closing the door and letting him sleep longer, and shedding her robes and joining him. In the end, she did none of those things, instead, transforming with a small pop, padding across the room, and jumping lightly up onto the foot of the bed.

She walked gingerly up toward the head of the bed, then looked down into Albus’s face. Albus turned slightly in his sleep. Minerva lay down next to him, resting her paws and head on his chest, enjoying his warmth, and gradually drifted into a light sleep.

An hour later, Minerva began to purr as she woke to someone petting her.

“Minerva, Minerva, Minerva,” Albus said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Whatever shall I do with you, my dear?”

Minerva just purred more loudly and snuggled closer to him. Albus rolled onto his back, slid a hand beneath her, and lifted her fully onto his chest. Minerva didn’t even open her eyes, simply curling up and settling back into a light sleep as Albus stroked her fur. Finally, Albus put an arm around her and sat up, cradling her against him. Minerva opened her eyes and blinked at him.

“Good morning, my dear! I do believe it is time for me to get up now.”

Minerva bumped his chin with her head, then leapt to the floor as Albus released her. With a slight snap, she was back in her ordinary form.

“Good morning, Albus! I hope you don’t mind me joining you as I did. It simply seemed a pity to wake you when you were sleeping so nicely, and you looked so warm and cozy, I couldn’t help but join you,” Minerva said with a smile.

Albus chuckled. “It was rather a nice way to wake up, actually. But now, I need to get up and dress. Is breakfast at any particular time?”

“No, but – ” Minerva paused and cast a Tempus. Seven-fifteen. “ – Mother is likely drinking her second cup of tea now, and eating her breakfast, so we could join her, if you like. Or we could call Orents and have him bring us breakfast here, whichever you prefer.”

“I think it would be nice to join your mother. I won’t be long.”

Minerva bent and gave him a kiss on the cheek then left him to change. “I’ll just go on down now, unless you’d rather I wait for you. We breakfast in the morning room, where we had our tea yesterday.”

Albus told her to go down and he would be along shortly.

After breakfast, Minerva asked Albus whether he had time for a walk before they left for Hogwarts.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I have so many things to do today, especially as we will be gone tomorrow, as well, that I need to get back. And I do want to be free this evening. But please don’t let that keep you from staying and enjoying the morning with your parents,” Albus replied.

“It was just a thought. Perhaps next time,” Minerva said. “I will Apparate back with you.”

Egeria and Merwyn said good-bye to the two in the front hall, and Merwyn cast the few spells necessary to add Albus to the family wards so that he could Apparate or Floo directly into the house. Moments later, Albus and Minerva were at the Hogwarts gates. As they walked back up to the castle, Albus remarked that he believed that he would be hiring the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher that morning, Kettleburn, whom Wilhelmina had spoken with the day before.

“That only leaves Flying and Quidditch. I thought I might ask your brother if he would mind taking those on, at least until we find someone else to do it,” Albus said. “I assume he knows enough about Quidditch to be able to referee – was he on the Quidditch team in school?”

“Yes, he was a Beater, actually,” Minerva replied. “He didn’t really have the build for it, but he made up for it in aggressiveness, from what I understand. I don’t know if he’s played since then, though.”

“If he can Apparate-by-Broom – which we shall see tomorrow – he can manage Flying and Quidditch, then, I’m sure,” Albus said with a nod.

They reached the second floor, and they parted company until lunch, making tentative plans to meet after dinner. Kettleburn would be staying for lunch, and Albus doubted he would have any free time in the afternoon.

Minerva’s day went quickly. She spent most of it on Hogwarts business, as she really had little to do to prepare for the wedding the next day. If the weather was fine, she would wear her saffron and raspberry robes, and if it wasn’t, she would grit her teeth and wear her Muggle suit. The day before, she had confirmed with her mother that her wedding present to Melina and Brennan had arrived at the house. Her mother had picked it up for her when she went shopping in Muggle Edinburgh. Minerva thought it a very dull wedding present, but Melina had said she wanted a Muggle electric iron, so that is what Minerva got her. Her mother had bought her a Hoover and some electric lamps for their sitting room. Although Brennan had some Muggle appliances and lamps, the house was a large one to furnish, and Melina wanted new appliances rather than the old ones from Brennan’s flat. It was going to be a small, quiet affair, which was just as well, as it was in the registry office. The wedding was at nine o’clock, and the wedding breakfast was to be held in a nearby Muggle restaurant. Other than Murdoch’s immediate family, Melina had only invited Uncle Perseus and Aunt Helen, and, of course, Jenny, Albus, Quin, Poppy, and Gertrude. Brennan’s mother was not up to the trip, so they were planning on visiting her at the end of their honeymoon, but his brother, his wife, and a handful of Melina and Brennan’s mutual Muggle friends were coming.

At lunch, Minerva met Kettleburn, who had accepted Albus’s offer and would arrive on the first of December, overlapping with Wilhelmina by a few weeks so that she could show him around and introduce him to the students. Kettleburn was an amusing, middle-aged wizard, lean and wiry, missing a few “minor appendages,” as he put it, with a slight limp caused by some missing flesh in one leg, where a beast had taken a chomp out of him. Minerva had to keep herself from spitting out her soup when Malcolm leaned over and asked her, in a whisper, whether she thought that Kettleburn planned on being eaten a little at a time or whether he might make a full meal for some creature before that happened.

Minerva’s afternoon was as quiet as her morning had been, and she took a walk before dinner, catching sight of Malcolm on his broom, high above the castle. She watched him for a while, her heart in her throat when, leaning close to the handle, he did loops and hair-pin turns, but he remained in complete control of his broom and the broom’s charms appeared to keep him well-seated. Finally, deciding that he was not going to be landing any time soon, Minerva returned to the castle and to her office until dinner.

There were more staff at dinner than there had been in weeks. Both Pringle and Ogg had returned early to assess their areas of responsibility and get any maintenance done before classes began, and Madam Perlecta had also returned early. If they were curious about Malcolm’s presence at the table, they said nothing, and Albus announced that lunch and dinner would be served in the Great Hall beginning with Saturday’s lunch.

After eating his custard, but not taking any biscuits, Minerva noticed, Albus stood and asked her if she would care to join him for a game of chess. Minerva nodded, and the two walked up to the gargoyle together, chatting about their day. As soon as the gargoyle closed the entrance behind them, Minerva threw her arms around Albus and kissed him.

“Oh, I thought I would burst, waiting for this,” she said, kissing him again.

Albus chuckled and returned her kiss. “I missed you, too, Minerva. Somehow, despite being busy all day, I felt that it was taking far too long for the dinner hour to arrive.” He kissed her again, and they reached the top of the stairs.

“What did you think of Kettleburn?” Albus asked.

“He seemed nice. A bit eccentric and, um, blasé about the loss of his fingers, toes, and other miscellaneous chunks of himself, but nice. And well-qualified, I thought,” Minerva responded.

Albus grinned. “He does seem a bit unconcerned about the gradual loss of limb by attrition, doesn’t he? But he seems very knowledgeable, and hopefully he will not be losing many more pieces of himself in the near-future.”

The two went upstairs and Albus set up the chessboard for them.

“We’re really playing chess?” Minerva asked.

Albus looked up, surprised. “I thought you wanted to – if you don’t, we don’t have to, naturally.”

“No, we can play chess. I just thought that we might spend time just getting to know each other better,” Minerva said.

Albus looked puzzled. “Getting to know each other better? I think we are past the favourite colours, favourite foods, favourite seasons conversations.”

Minerva laughed. “I meant in the ways that we don’t know each other as well, Albus. You are such a dear!” She leaned over and kissed his cheek before sitting in the chair opposite him. “I won last time, so I’ll play white this game.”

“Ah, I see . . .” Albus’s cheeks went pink as he realised what Minerva was saying. “Well, we have had a busy few days, and we need to be in Edinburgh early tomorrow for your niece’s wedding, so I thought a relaxing game or two of chess might be nice,” Albus said.

Minerva won the first game and lost the second, then Albus called for tea and they curled up together on the sofa, and Minerva drank in his kisses, ignoring her tea altogether. Finally, Albus declared that he would walk her back to her rooms. They could take the backstairs which were so handy to Gryffindor Tower. Minerva stifled a sigh, but agreed. She didn’t think that she could bear being so close to him only to be parted from him again. At least they had come to an agreeable compromise about their holiday, and that was one less area of tension between them. The sexual tension between them, however, simply seemed to be growing, from Minerva’s point-of-view, anyway. And she didn’t think that it was becoming any easier for Albus either. But they were headed for his backstairs and her rooms, where he clearly planned to bid her good-night to return to his own suite.

Minerva stopped before Albus reached the final step. Sensing this, Albus turned slightly, looking up at her in the flickering torchlight.

“All right, there, Minerva? It’s only a few more steps, my dear,” he said, concerned that her claustrophobia was bothering her despite the fact that he had led her down this narrow stone stairway many times.

“No,” Minerva said softly. “I’m not all right.”

When they had passed through Albus’s bedroom on the way to his backstairs, Minerva wished they were at their final destination. She understood his desire to court her properly, but she didn’t think she could bear being properly courted much longer. When he turned further toward her, she placed a hand on each shoulder and stepped down one more step so that she was pressed against him.

“Hold me, please, Albus,” she whispered, putting one hand behind his neck, threaded through his hair, sliding the other one down his side, and laying her head on his shoulder.

Albus did as she asked, and said, “It’s all right, my dear. I have you. It’s just a short ways further – Minerva?”

She had moved her hand to the small of his back, and now it crept lower as she felt the curve of his buttocks beneath his robes, and she wished he weren’t wearing two layers. She felt him gasp as her fingers explored his cleft through the fabric and her lips found his neck. She nuzzled him, moving his hair and beard aside, baring the side of his neck to the tip of an exploring tongue.

“Minerva – um – ” Minerva felt Albus swallow. “You . . . I . . .”

Minerva just said, “Mmm,” and pressed against him harder, forcing him to take a step down, and she stepped down with him, deliberately moving her hips to provide him a brief massage. She kissed his neck, then sucked it, nipping slightly. Only mildly concerned that he might pull away, she moved her hand from the back of his head down to his hips, then reached between them. Albus took the final step down, and Minerva followed, backing him into the door. Then she stopped, placed both hands lightly on his chest, and looked up at him.

“Don’t you . . . don’t you want me, Albus?” she asked softly, drawing her hands down, parting his outer robe, then lightly caressing his chest. “Is there something I can do . . . so that you want me? Something that would make me more desirable?”

“Of course I want you, Minerva,” he said, his voice coming out hoarsely. He swallowed. “You know that I do . . . I just . . . I don’t want you ever to feel . . . used or as though that’s all that I want from you.”

“I could use a Glamour, if you like. If you want something . . . different,” Minerva offered softly, knowing full well that he did not want anything different. She looked down. “If I’m not attractive enough for you, if that’s the problem – ”

“No, no, that’s not it. It’s not. Truly,” Albus said urgently, running his hands up and down her arms. “There is no witch, no woman, on earth who is more attractive than you are to me. You must know how much I desire you.”

Minerva looked up at him, letting a breath out slowly, lips parted. She moved one hand around beneath his outer robe so that it was under his arm, then moved the other one slowly downward, watching his reaction as she did so. She stopped as she caressed his lower abdomen then placed her hand on his hip. She stood on her toes and kissed his mouth lightly but lingeringly, followed by sensuously pulling his lower lip between hers and flicking it with the tip of her tongue as she sucked it gently.

Barely breaking the kiss, she whispered, “Then show me. Show me your desire, Albus. Show me . . . please.”

When their lips met again, he responded, pulling her closer and pressing his hips forward. He broke the kiss and gasped into her ear, his hand squeezing her and pulling her tightly against him. “You can feel that, you can feel my desire, my desire for you.”

“And what do you desire? Show me what you desire, please, Albus!”

“Oh, my love, my dearest,” he said, trying to disengage from her embrace, “we should wait . . . at least not here,” he added when he felt her sag in disappointment.

“Now, Albus, please . . . I need you now, not, not later . . . later, too, but now, please,” she said, kissing his chest as she spoke. “You know how much I want you . . . I demonstrated that quite clearly on Tuesday, I think, and it was lovely . . . but I can’t last. I can’t wait any longer for you . . . for you to want me, for you to take me, for you to make love to me. I need you, Albus.” Minerva looked up at him. Her heart was pounding. “I know you love me, now please show me how much you want me, that you need me, too, please,” she finished softly, looking back down, “please, I want you to . . . to take me, please. I will beg – ”

“No,” Albus said gruffly. “Do not. Never.”

He kissed her forehead, then her eyes, then her cheeks, and as he began to kiss her mouth, his hands went to her waist and he turned her to his left, pushing her gently to the stone wall.

“I want you, Minerva. I want you . . . I want you . . . I want you so much, and I so want to be romantic, to show you all my love and adoration,” Albus said, kissing her mouth and throat, bringing his hands up then back down again. “I could take you now, and, oh, how I have wanted to make love to you, but you deserve something special. Not here, now.” He pulled at a lace on her bodice, and her robes loosened to his touch. “You do . . . deserve something special,” he said between gasps and kisses as he sucked at her throat, and, one hand still at her waist, he moved aside her robe, baring her to his touch. “I can’t just . . . not here.”

“Yes . . . oh, gods, Albus, please . . . you drive me mad,” Minerva said, trying to shrug off her gown. “Please . . .”

“Oh, Minerva . . .”

Albus rested his forehead on her shoulder and let out a shuddering breath, but his hand, seemingly of its own accord, fondled her then teased her, before moving her robe further aside, down off her shoulder. He turned his head and kissed her throat as his other hand rose and shoved her robe down from her other shoulder. Minerva could feel lips caressing her collar bone as his hands played with her, teasing her. She attempted to move her arms to pull him closer, but the robe constricted her movements, and his hands pressed against her, the stone wall cold against her back and his breath hot against her throat.

Minerva moaned softly as Albus gently nipped and sucked at the tender skin near her pulse point and one of his hands groped downward, moving her robes lower, bunching them about her waist and her wrists. His fingers played softly across the sensitive skin below her navel, dancing their way lower. No longer protesting, Albus’s voice now murmured half-intelligible endearments as he continued finding new places on her neck and shoulders to kiss her, sucking, nipping, licking, and his left hand fondling her as his right hand slipped still lower. Albus moaned in longing and frustration as her robes prevented any further progress.

He withdrew his hand, bringing it back up, then he lowered his head more, kissing her. Albus moved his hands to Minerva’s arms, grasping them and bracing himself as he slowly kissed his way down her body to her stomach, then took a return path. He moaned lowly, and Minerva felt the vibration of his voice all the way through her.

“Oh, gods, Albus, I cannot bear it,” Minerva cried, gasping, but Albus only pressed her wrists to the wall and nuzzled her.

“You wanted me to show you my desire, Minerva, my desire is you and this is what I desire, and how I desire you, my love,” Albus answered, his voice low and deep. “This is how I desire you, how I make love to you, how I take you, if you will have me do so here, now, in this place.” His breath was a warm, tickling breeze over her skin. “Unless you would have me stop.”

“Don’t stop, Albus, please, yes . . . don’t stop,” Minerva moaned.

A whispered spell raised her skirts, and Albus trembled, a shuddering breath issuing from between parted lips as he looked at her thighs then slowly began kissing them gently, moving from the inside of one leg to the other.

Minerva threw back her head and cried out. “Oh, gods, Albus.” Her breathing quickened. “Please . . . please . . .” she moaned, not even sure what she begged for, but knowing that Albus held it.

Albus made love to her against the cold, hard stone, but Minerva felt only his warmth and his love.

“I love you, Minerva, I love you . . . Minerva, my dearest Minerva, my love, my sweet, sweet love, you above all, you . . . you . . . you, Minerva, my love . . .”

Albus drew back, looking at her in the flickering torchlight, watching her, and his eyes filled with tears and he said, “You, Minerva, you, my love, Minerva, Minerva, Minerva, my love. . . .”

Minerva could no longer see Albus’s face, but only hear his voice, and Albus’s magic surrounded her, lifting her, and her own breath seemed to escape her as she felt the pulse of his life and his energy in and around her. Minerva heard his voice still, speaking of his love, speaking her name, calling her to him, and she collapsed forward against him, held by his strength and supported by his love.

As Minerva tried to regain control of her panting breath, her head limp on his shoulder, feeling his kisses in her hair. Swallowing and trying to draw some moisture into her parched mouth, she finally whispered his name.

“Yes, my dear?” Albus said softly, barely ceasing his kisses, and stroking her back with one hand.

“Albus . . . you’re . . . that is . . . are you. . . .” She swallowed again. “I mean to say . . .” Despite having abandoned herself to her passion, she could not find the words to ask him her question.

“I will admit it was surpassingly difficult, my love,” Albus whispered, “but if you are asking what I believe you are . . . I am holding that in reserve, with the assistance of a bit of a charm, until we can make it back to my bedroom, where I can continue to make love to you and finish demonstrating to you how very, very much I love you, desire you, need you, adore you.”

[Hogwarts Duo]

What an awesome chapter, in so many ways!

It was interesting to see the origins, or at least more insight, into Minerva’s dislike of dark, enclosed spaces. I’m sure Egeria must have been beside herself when Minerva went missing for so long. And it was good of Malcolm to be the hero that day, haha.

Both Merwyn and Egeria were simply lovely to Albus during his visit and I’m glad they added him to the family wards. I’m sure that goes a long way towards making Albus feel better about their acceptance of his courting Minerva. It will be interesting to see if he actually makes use of the privilege, but at least now he has the option.

The bedtime tea with Albus and Minerva was cute. I could just see Albus enjoying the fairy tales and poems in his youth and then rediscovering them in his later years. It’s that sort of attention to detail and the little things in this story that make it so enjoyable to read. Most of the time, I think we forget that Albus and Minerva had childhoods and enjoyed the sillier things in life from time to time.

With each new chapter, I find something else to love about this story and the way it’s beautifully constructed. I can’t wait to find out what happens in the next section, though after reading that lemon, I have a pretty good idea…tee hee. Hope you don’t make us wait too long for the next section!!!! I think Minerva’s waited long enough for all of us. ;D

[esoterica1693]

Excellent chapter in *all* versions! Whew!
The family wards bit was excellent, saying again that albus is now part of the family, no questions or objections raised.

And the stair, the stair, oh my! I agree w/ the poster elsewhere who said that Minerva showed a bit of Slytherin there: "I could use a Glamour..." and threatening to beg...the distasteful image of his beloved Minerva having to beg him for anything was what pushed Albus over the edge....

I also agree w/ the comment at TPP that if this is Albus out of practice, oh Merlin, wait til he's back in practice!

Eagerly awaiting their arrival at a more final destination....since they've now dealt w/ yet more baggage! <g>