The Deepest Mystery

[admmityourlove]

The Deepest Mystery

A/N: This story starts off as the classic GOF Yule Ball ADMM back story-but there are some twists, and who knows, it could eventually take an entirely AU direction. Some very small DH spoilers may be included-you have been warned.

Rating: If you are old enough to be on this board, you are old enough to read this fic. Slight innuendo warning for Chapter 2.

Dislaimer: I'm not JKR...I actually believe in this ship! Still, all characters are hers.

She gazed across the Great Hall from the Head Table at the pair of them moving in total synchrony around the dance floor together. His robes flowed elegantly and swayed softly as he danced and her dress hung easily over her body, subtly accentuating her rounded figure. His face was relaxed as he chatted pleasantly with her and both looked quite comfortable and at ease. The one thing that could be said for them was that they were dancing about a foot apart, unlike several of the couples gallivanting here…

The Yule Ball was a once-in-a-lifetime Hogwarts event taking place as a part of ancient Tri Wizard Tournament custom. It was a time, as she explained to her eager students, to engage in controlled, well-mannered frivolity. She had watched for weeks as the student body, faced with the delightfully awkward task of asking a member of the opposite gender to go to the ball with them, had been transformed. Many students had gone through extreme moods varying from utter heartbreak to blissful ecstasy to fierce frustration and beyond.

More students than anyone could ever remember were being caught after curfew by their exasperated professors in various compromising positions. In her O.W.L. year classes and above, the giggling young ladies and anguished looking young men who made up a vast majority was a strange phenomenon she was certainly not accustomed to dealing with. In fact, one poor Hufflepuff 6th year was almost reduced to tears after he wholeheartedly attempted to flirt with his enamored one and was cruelly rejected by the girl in question and her gang of snarky Slytherin pals.

Perhaps the real reason she could not understand her students’ behavior was because she had not been that way as a student at all. For her, grades and studies were always the top priority and she never had time for such irrelevant things as romance. As a young woman, she had experienced a few dates here and there, but nothing serious because most men were far more interested in the motion of her lips rather than the communication of her sharp intellect pouring out of them.

When she got older, her involvement in fighting the Dark Arts and her debut as the youngest animagus in 500 years left her no time to worry about finding a husband. When she finally started to teach as a middle aged witch, her reputation as an intimidating, chaste and serious woman had been carved in stone. She hadn’t seen a suitor in over forty years.

That was not to say, however, that she had not had male companionship for a great deal of her life. As a teen, she had belonged to a group of rather studious Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, of which several were boys. And ever since she began fighting the Dark Side, her best friend had emerged as a man many years her senior. After decades of building trust and memories together, how could they not be best friends? Yet something else, another factor, had invariably come into play. Because for reasons truly unfathomable to her, as innocent and platonic as their dancing was, Minerva McGonagall could not help but cringe as she observed Pomona Sprout waltz with Albus Dumbledore.

TBC...

A/N: This is the first ADMM Romance I have ever written, so please R&R!

[Merriam]

I really like it! I must say, you caught me off guard with Albus's waltz partner being Pomona--but that just added an interesting twist as you said.
Please do continue . . . you have a natural gift for writing.

[Orion's Guard]

This is a story line that has been explored before, but I'm interested in seeing where your perspective takes it.

[admmityourlove]

A/N: Thank you for the reviews, guys! Here’s the next section (and yes, it’s longer ):

Chapter Two

“May I have this dance, Professor McGonagall?” A loud voice practically radiating cheerfulness cut through Minerva’s musings. Ludo Bagman stood there grinning broadly, a hand outstretched, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for her reply. Oh, why not, she thought. Maybe a turn or two around the ballroom would be just the thing to cure her puzzled mind. “Of course.” She responded courteously and before she knew it, Ludo had pulled her out onto the floor and spun her around wildly as a jaunty yet mellifluous tune echoed out across the room.

She almost collided with young Mr. Krum, who was unfortunately carrying two drink glasses at the time and nearly dropped them in surprise. Minerva couldn’t even get out a hasty apology before she was whirled back around rather vigorously into Ludo’s arms. “Mr. Bagman! Just what do you think you are doing?!” she exclaimed hotly. Yet Ludo seemed to be unaffected by the dangerous warning signs that Minerva’s increasing temper was exuding, or perhaps he simply was so imperviously gleeful that he did not even recognize her displeasure.

At any rate, he soon had her in a low dip that was quickly followed by another wild spin which severely impacted the pristine condition of her meticulously tied up hair. By now, she was livid. Minerva McGonagall did not frolic around in a frenzied manner. Minerva McGonagall did not appear in public with disheveled hair. And Minerva McGonagall most certainly did not allow men to wrap their arms dangerously low around her back as Ludo Bagman was now.

The music kept playing at a rapid tempo, but Ludo no longer was dancing. He stood there, firmly holding her in place, pulling her within six inches of his chest. “Well,” he whispered a lower, most un-Ludo Bagmanish voice, “You’ve always been the reason I’ve wanted come to these events you know. I find you quite intoxicating. Minerva… “His hands moved even lower and pulled her right into him. Minerva was no longer going to hold back. “LUDO BAGMAN! GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF OF MY ARSE THIS INSTANT OR SO HELP ME I WILL…” Damn, where was her wand? Minerva did the only thing she knew of to escape. She laid a precise and deadly knee right in Ludo’s disturbingly aroused groin. “Owww!” moaned Ludo as he doubled over in pain.

Of course, naturally by now most of the surrounding couples and several people by the punch bowl had frozen as they took in the most peculiar sight many of them had ever seen. Minerva stood upright and she glared down incredulously at Ludo with tousled hair and cheeks on fire. Ludo himself was attracting quite a bit of attention as he was now rolling on the ground holding onto his crotch for dear life and his face was contorted with deep discomfort. In fact, if Minerva hadn’t looked fit to kill someone, the scenario may have elicited many a guffaw or giggle from the students and staff who were unabashedly staring wide eyed.

She had never been this mortified in her entire life; not even the time she found Lily and James sleeping in James’ dorm when they were seventh years. She had to get out of here, right now. Oh no, that was not who she thought it was, was it? No, anyone but him, please. It was him. He was coming closer…
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Albus Dumbledore was not an easily angered man. He was abnormally gifted with the ability to remain serene in even the most rage inspiring situations. Yet right now, he seemed to have lost that gift as he strode towards the pair of dancers, his eyes never leaving the afflicted piece of scum on the ground who had humiliated the lovely witch standing mere feet away from him.

He had been taken completely off guard. Albus had been having an intriguing conversation with Pomona Sprout about the latest theory on inbreeding different variations of Venomous Tentacula when the melodic waltz they had been dancing to had ended. Bowing and placing a cordial kiss on the back of her hand like a perfect gentleman, Albus bid Pomona good evening and decided to sit out a song as his legs were starting to feel the effects of dancing with various people for about an hour and a half straight.

As he carefully chose a sturdy seat near the punch bowl and transfigured it into a comfy purple armchair, the next song started to play, and it was faster than the previous one and required one to move with great virility. Albus was indeed glad he decided to rest when he saw that Minerva was sitting over at the Head Table all by herself. He made to go over and sit down next to his best friend, as she was always up for an intellectual debate and peaked his interest every time every time he talked to her.

Before he got more than a few paces closer however, he saw Ludo Bagman approach from the crowd and offer his hand to her. She looked a bit forlorn, but must have accepted anyway because suddenly Ludo swung her around into the dance floor and soon they were lost from sight.

Albus sighed and went back to his chair, not stopping to ponder why he had such a gloomy feeling suddenly washing over him. He was just starting relax and tune out the party when a very familiar shrill voice eclipsing all other sounds jolted him into alertness. “LUDO BAGMAN! GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF OF MY ARSE THIS INSTANT OR SO HELP ME I WILL…” Smack. A cry of pain. Suddenly everybody stopped dancing, but Albus barely noticed as he raced through the crowd, screeching to a halt when he found the source of everyone’s distraction.

There was Minerva in her rumpled red tartan robes and thistle reef hanging haphazardly from her head, her long black hair tumbling down her back in tangle waves, and angry red blotches adorning her face as her features contorted in fury and her eyes in soft pain. Albus didn’t think he could remember seeing anything so beautiful yet so devastating in his entire life.

Swallowing hard, he followed her gaze towards the Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports who was whimpering after clearly having been targeted where the sun don’t shine. Albus knew he shouldn’t get involved, but he couldn’t leave this as it was.

“Mr. Bagman, what is the meaning of this?” Dumbledore thundered. He could feel magical energy pulsing around him, and knew that if he didn’t calm down, his wandless magic might cause some undesired consequences. Why was he reacting so strongly to this anyway? Bagman finally looked up, and predictably cowered under Dumbledore’s intense glare. “You see…I…uh…” Albus cut right across him. “You have deliberately displayed highly inappropriate conduct towards my Deputy Headmistress at a school sanctioned event and I am utterly disgusted with you, as I am sure anyone who is acquainted with Professor McGonagall is. I must ask you to leave at once.” Nearby, three glass goblets violently shattered. Ludo shuddered fearfully. He did not need telling twice. With a quick glance of longing at Minerva that made Albus seethe, he picked himself up and ran out of the hall, still wincing as he went.

Once Bagman had gone, Albus’ infuriated feelings evaporated in an instant. He turned again to face Minerva, everyone still watching the aftermath of the incident. “Minerva, are you quite all right?” He spoke in a much softer voice and dared to use her first name in public. She looked up at him, her eyes a whirling haze of emotions which he could not interpret. They held eye contact for what seemed like an eternity, when in reality it was only a few seconds. Then, without a word, she turned around and fled the hall, with the tears threatening to spill from her eyes the last he saw of the woman he felt like he no longer knew even after 50 years of a friendship that was perhaps unlike any other.

A/N: I know this story has had more angst than romance so far, but rest assured the romance will come. It just might take a little while. I probably won’t be able to update this story until next Friday at the earliest, so please don’t think I’ve given up on it. Reviews are always appreciated.

[TheGryffindorSeeker]

awwwww more please great chapters =]

[Merriam]

Keep going! Great story--I'm interested to see what happens next.

[Uhura]

Aaaaahhhh! Moooooreeee! More, please! *0*

[lemondrop]

Wow! Want moooooooooooore! please! very well written!

[osusprinks]

This is great and so far a lot of fun even if Minerva is in tears at the moment. I loved that she was jealous of Pomona, silly woman. Awesome job and I can't wait to see more!

[gynji]

“LUDO BAGMAN! GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF OF MY ARSE THIS INSTANT OR SO HELP ME I WILL…”

Hehehehehe Now that was funny although i'm sure our Minerva is now feeling slightly embarrassed

Looking forward to chapter 3

[littlemorgsi]

gynji: embarrassed? try degraded and violated. She should have hexed him!

[admmityourlove]

A/N: Wow, what an enthusiastic response! I hope this next section does the beginning justice. Very sorry for such a late update. I had a very difficult time writing it after JKR’s news broke, but I tried my best. Here goes nothing:

Chapter Three

Stunned. Horrified. Confused. Any of these would have fit her at the moment. She couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her was the truth. The man she had loved was a total nutcase who tried to feel up her colleague. Usually she thought that showing emotion was a sign of weakness in a woman, especially in an authority figure such as herself, but at the moment a stampede of raging hippogriffs wouldn’t have been able to stop her eyes from spilling over or her legs from wobbling violently.

She had to get out of there, before anyone could see her and realize why she was in such a state. With everyone still looking at Dumbledore dumbfounded by his words, she slipped outside undetected into the gardens.

She was just about to park herself inside a dark corner where no one would disturb her when her foot collided with something very solid and she consequently flew forward onto her face which in turn contacted something rather soft that elicited a shriek. Oh Merlin. Picking herself up, she saw the exact situation she had fallen into quite literally, and she didn’t think her cheeks had ever burned brighter.

Her skull had impacted the stomach of Cho Chang, who was hurriedly shifting her body in order to cover the bare torso of none other than Champion Cedric Diggory himself. She noticed that due to the unnatural warmth of this area, the two students must have cast a Heating Charm around themselves, and she had obviously interrupted a rather intimate “discussion” between them. “Madam Hooch?!” Cho exclaimed in a tone singed with mortification.

The Flying Instructor stood up very quickly in order to gain some semblance of authority over the errant couple. The action had its desired effect, as both Quidditch stars shivered under her gaze. She needed to get out of there fast, and punishing two happy lovers was not only going to take a fair amount of time, but also was against her personal will due to the course of tonight’s actions. She looked Miss Chang straight in the eye. “You didn’t see me out here and I didn’t see you. Are we clear?” Before either teen could allow her words to sink in, Madam Hooch had sped off and did not stop running until she reached the other side of the lake. Finally, she was alone.

Rolanda had loved Ludo Bagman for a very long time. The two had played proudly for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team for four years together as students and were only two years apart. He had always been so carefree, so jovial, so absolutely charming that even when he was merely an awkward second year, fourteen year old Rolanda could not help but fall smitten. Yet he always had so many girls hanging around him that proud, tomboyish Rolanda felt she just couldn’t compare.

She never told him how she felt, even though they became very close friends as the years went by. When she graduated from Hogwarts, she got a job as a quality control tester at the Comet Racing Broom Company. She always missed having Ludo around, and the two years he was finishing his Hogwarts tenure were secretly very lonely times for her. When he was at last done with his education, Rolanda was overjoyed, and elated to rekindle her relationship with Ludo. Being an independent adult in the world had granted her great self-esteem, and she was ready at last to tell him the truth of her passion.

But then he had been recruited as the youngest professional beater in England for the Wimbourne Wasps. That was when Ludo changed.

He became very famous very fast-soon his team was traveling all over the world playing Quidditch at the international level after taking the U.K. league title three times in a row. The sweet coyness that Rolanda cherished in her enamored one all but disappeared as blatant arrogance became its heir. The pastimes outside of flying they had spent hours engaging in together as adolescents, such as playing Gobstones or listening to The Weird Sisters’ latest album or trading Chocolate Frog Cards were now “too dorky” for someone as cool as Ludo Bagman, the legendary beater who invented maneuvers like “The Dual Clubbed Assault” or “The Leaping Ricochet”.

Rolanda tried her best to contact him over the years, but he never answered her owls or was there when she flooed his new mansion house. Heartbroken at what had transpired, Rolanda spent years trying to move on and dated various other men.

None matched up to her memory of the old Ludo, the one who boldly kissed her cheek after Hufflepuff won a brutal match against Gryffindor during a blizzard in her sixth year. The Ludo who did an impersonation of Professor Slughorn that had the whole Common Room lolling about the floor in mirth. The Ludo who taught the rest of the team to play Quodpot, a highly amusing American broom game during Easter break. In her heart, she prayed that “that” Ludo must still be deep inside his morphed exterior.

Eventually, the post of Flying Instructor opened up at Hogwarts and Rolanda found herself the only applicant for the job. She wanted to go back to the place where she met Ludo, the place she was happiest, and see if the ancient school would once again work its magic within her. By the time she became the Madam Hooch who would yell her head off at foul players or have a fit if the school brooms weren’t put away properly, she was no longer the secretly sensuous, romantic, good natured woman wrapped in a stubborn, independent wrapping she once was.

Ludo’s disinterest and transformation crushed her spirit, and she had never told a soul. She needed the help she would never ask for or receive. After Ludo, she never opened herself to such vulnerability or pain again.

So now, now, now her world had once again slipped the rug out from under her feet. Rolanda had not seen or spoken to Ludo for years. She knew he had retired many years ago and went on to be the Head of the Department for International Games and Sports at the Ministry, and she also knew that his popularity had not waned much from his Wasp days, even if not all at the Ministry approved of how he ran his section. Then this whole Tri Wizard Tournament thing had to come to pass and guess who came back to Hogwarts as a judge?

She barely recognized him when he entered the Great Hall the night the Goblet of Fire was to begin the competition. But then-what? He was charming and modest and quirky and full of childish wonder! He was “The Ludo” again, and Rolanda Hooch had never been happier in her life.

This year Rolanda had done what she had promised herself she would never do again; fall in love. And the Yule Ball, why, what better a night was there to divulge one’s feelings? It was a very romantic occasion that only came around once in a lifetime. So she had planned it all out. Her gown was a deep marigold, a color that she knew Ludo loved and a color that highlighted the amber flecks in her eyes. Her short, feathered cut was styled and preened in ways that she had never thought possible with such little hair. She wore light makeup that accentuated her eyes and downplayed her very prominent cheek bones. She had been so ready for this, more eager than she could ever remember being.

But now none of that mattered.

She was wrong. Ludo was not “The Ludo” and he never would be again. He was a lusting disgusting pervert who tried to come on to one of his former professors whilst surrounded by students. Minerva certainly didn’t want him. She did! He hadn’t even said two words to Rolanda and when she met his gaze he failed to even acknowledge her presence. How could he?! Rolanda felt all the pain she had kept locked away through every damn moment she had wasted on this man boil up inside her until she no longer could contain it.

She wailed into the night, causing snow to fall in great clumps from the nearest tree as the sound reverberated off of the cold stone castle walls in an eerie echo. Rolanda began to twitch violently. Strange ripples erupted over the placid surface of the lake. A glow began to emanate from her as her salty tears augmented the dusting of new white crystals.

A burst of fire erupted from her tight pressed eyelids that assumed the shape of a heart. With piercing agony Rolanda’s skin went blue, her pupils darker than a dementor’s robe. Her whole body tensed and writhed yet her cry was silent. The fiery figure began to rip down the middle. The further it tore, the more rapidly Rolanda shook, the more blue her skin colored, and the less she glowed in the night.

At last the flaming mark of love was completely pulled apart. Suddenly Rolanda’s face paled to chalk white, and her ivory tainted lips unleashed the great cacophony of pain that had built inside her silently beaten body. “LUDO!!!!!!!!!!!!!” A streak of lightning flashed across the sparsely clouded sky as the azure toned witch with only half of her poor heart left beating and not a drop of energy left unpurged from her corpse collapsed in agony across the frozen dirt while the only witnesses to her plight were the stars that somehow twinkled less brightly as the last bit of the old Rolanda was lost forever from this world.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Less than 500 meters away, another woman ran up flight after flight of stairs crying into oblivion. She had been hurt and humiliated and…Albus was there. He saw her in a weak position and a horrible light. This was not the way it was supposed to be. Him and her…it wasn’t supposed to be a mystery. They were friends, damn it! Her head throbbed from her sobbing. So, so confusing and…blank. She never even felt her head hit the suit of armor as her emotional exhaustion and burden won out against her will to keep moving. It was the first time Minerva had ever lost to herself.

A/N: Yes, I know this chapter had almost absolutely nothing to do with what’s going on with Albus and Minerva, but I needed to account for another element of this story. Fluffiness will triumph in the end! Reviews are always appreciated. Oh yes, and seeing as I don’t have a beta in any way, shape, or form, please be kind.

[piwakette]

I just stumbled across your story. I'm intrigued. I hope you continue it soon.

[jrs]

I think I'd given up on this story!! Glad to see an update. Very interesting so far. I'm going to whine like a small child now... MORE MORE MORE!! ;-)

[silvertabby]

more! I like it a lot! Moooore

[Gemmie Lou]

i need more ppplllleeeeeeaaaaaaaasssssseeeeeeee xxxxxxxx

[mmadcrazyfan]

i love it
this is reallyyy interesting
ive never seen rolanda paired w. ludo, i like that lol.

[admmityourlove]

A/N: Continuing the story… will the angst cease soon? Perhaps. We’ll see just what happened to Albus while two of his colleagues were experiencing their ordeals. Warning, DH spoilers.

Chapter Four

He needed to focus. Severus was telling him something very important. What was it? Well, although Albus appeared completely absorbed in the conversation he was having as the last of the Yule-ballers drowsily exited the Great Hall, his mind was only spending the prerequisite amount of thought on Snape’s tidings.

Primarily, his conscience continued to stew over the incident involving Minerva taking place merely two hours ago. ‘Why on Earth are you still here?’ a little voice trilled in his skull. ‘Go to her Albus-go comfort her, be her friend. Be her everything.’ Whoa. Hold on. Where had that last part come from? Be her everything. An image blazed through his mind of Minerva leaping into his arms and kissing him passionately, of him responding instantly to her desires, of her slowly gazing into his eyes with a lovers’ heart shining through that made his knees buckle…

“Albus!” Snape reprimanded sharply.

Oh bugger. He had tuned out entirely. “Yes, Severus?” he replied, a bit flustered from where his mind had been leading him. Severus looked him over with squinted eyes. “Perhaps you should get yourself to bed, Headmaster. We shall discuss Karkaroff at a time when you are able to concentrate, which is clearly not tonight. I know the matter at hand cannot be dealt with when one is tired.”

Albus, who was quite grateful for a reprieve, immediately accepted Severus’ suggestion. Feigning extreme exhaustion, he bid Severus good evening and made his to his quarters. Once there, he shut the door behind him, took out his wand, and conjured a goblet of water which he promptly dumped over his head.

There, at least he could actually think now. So should he follow what his mind’s voice had been prompting him to do? Would it be the right decision, even a safe one, to find Minerva tonight and discuss what had happened? How would she react? How would he react? Albus could guess that after the magical tension he had felt around him in anger involving Minerva, any sort of passionate longing might cause a major upheaval that would be very awkward to have to explain.

But that was just it. Why was he even feeling like this? He had never thought of her in a romantic light before, had he? Well, maybe he just hadn’t wanted to accept it, but now there was no choice. Seeing Ludo’s intentions had invoked a fury in him which he had not felt since the last time he had looked Gellert Grindelwald in the eyes.

That had been a turning point in his life, an end to the mockery, the rumors, and the isolation. After his triumph the whole world knew him. But they didn’t really know him. A figure, an idol, a symbol, a hero, that was all they ever saw. Brash women, flaunting lacy bustiers and brandy stained lips, accosting him outside Ministry functions. Official after official, trying to form ‘important connections’ to the ‘greatest wizard of the age’. Article after article, letter after letter, and the scrutiny never stopped.

But for a select few, the man hued before Grindelwald lived on, the one with the quirky habits, ostentatious dress, and the guilt and pain of his own sister’s murder and the loss of a deep infatuation to an all consuming darkness. Minerva McGonagall knew many of these things. Yes, Albus had been enamored with Grindelwald as a teen, or ‘Gell’, as he was referred to in those times by familiars.

But with the fever there was no love and no comfort, no desire to caress and fondle. There was only pain to relieve and power to gain, and a lust for the intoxicating darkness, which, even as a youth, surrounded Gellert. Albus’ childhood was austere, confining, and secretive as he struggled to cope with the pressure of a mentally compromised sibling and two parents who did not nurture or shield their offspring. As a student, he could bear it no more. Rebelling against the standards of his upbringing, he wore bright clothing and cut his hair short (At the time, only muggles had short hair. It was considered a sign of inferiority).

These behaviors lost him the few friends he had made, and so Albus had only his studies to turn to for comfort. The results were astounding. With a drive for academia unparalleled by any student in Hogwarts’ history, Albus became known in the wider wizarding community as a prodigy. Knowledge gave him power, but no love. In the absence of the care he truly needed, the lust for power turned into something sadistic and deadly.

And when he found Gellert, who encompassed all that Albus thought he desired, there was no question. Albus shivered slightly. He could still remember the sensation of salty skin and stubble sliding beneath his lips as a pair of hands ravaged his bare chest in the shadow of a closet. The man he thought he loved. The man for whom he would have taken over the world for and punished the masses just to please.

Ariana’s murder was the only thing that stopped the fierce and deadly passion, like a splash of cold water sobering a drunk. And then suddenly all of the darkness, all of the pain and misery which had drawn him to Gellert repulsed him. Ariana paid the price for his own submission to evil.

And in the desire to return to the light and banish the darkness forever, Albus found the strength to defeat the human manifestation of his evil. By conquering Gellert, he had gained mastery over his own darkness and finally found meaning in life. But by associating the lust he had felt for Grindelwald with any sort of romantic feeling at all, Albus had kept all suitors at bay, determined never to fall into such weakness again.

Yet now, thinking about Minerva again, he could clearly see for the first time how very different his feelings for her were from those he once held for Gellert. With Gell, he had never once wanted to hug or dry tears or write poems to the man. Minerva… oh he wanted to do all of these things, and so many more. Gellert had never been just his friend. Minerva had been his most trusted companion for 50 years. The way he had felt about Gellert made him feel guilty and hate himself. But his newly inspired feelings for Minerva held no threat of darkness or destruction.

His head was spinning. Albus stood up, a bit shakily. This whole business of love was such a mystery to him, because after Grindelwald he had been too afraid to sink into its depths and unravel the promises and surprises it held. He had never loved Gellert- he didn’t know if he knew how to love in such a way. Was he going to put himself on the line, break down his own barriers, for just a chance with Minerva, for just a chance to…love her? Her face burned in his mind, that last look he’d gotten from her before she fled tonight- and he knew. Yes, he would.

Albus quickly exited his quarters, and with a courage newly awaked by his realization flowing through his veins, he headed towards the chambers of his deputy head. As he turned one of the last corners rather briskly, a grim sight caused his rash movement to halt entirely. Minerva McGonagall, still dressed in her gorgeous scarlet tartan gown, lay crumpled in a heap at the foot of a suit of armor, a narrow trickle of blood flowing silently down her face.

A/N: Evil Cliffy! Sorry about that. I will update more quickly this time, I promise. This story is completely unbeta-ed, so I apologize for grammatical errors and such. Reviews always appreciated.  

[micha]

oh wow, this is great - you caught me in your story...and then such a cliffie - please: more, soon !!!

[tabby19]

O...M...G!! you can't stop there thats evil!!
its a wonderful story with evil cliffies!!!
PLEASE update soon!!!!

[mercifulheavens]

You have to continue it! You know that, right? (Grabs the computer and shakes it vigorously) Okay, not that we've got that settled. It was such a wonderful story, and adored it!

[Katheryn Mae]

Please update this! You've really got me hooked ... I knew Ludo liked Minerva but she was head-over-heels for Albus to notice him.

[goldencat]

It's so cruel to stop at this point, do you know that?
I really want to know how it goes on.
I hope I will know it soon:-)

[bethj4013]

Okay really want to read more please up date soon great story so far

[admmityourlove]

A/N: It’s back! Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers! In the wee hours of the morning, the darkness brings many people together in unexpected ways. Warning: Implied non-consensual sex and some language. I own nothing but the plot.

Chapter Five

“You want it don’t you, goody two shoes? You are so desperate that you’d give anything for just a little bit. Too bad your queer little boyfriend isn’t man enough to put out. He’s one of those sick perverts who prey on other guys behind your back. He doesn’t fucking love you, you bitch. You’re ripe for the picking, an untouched cherry, and I’m gonna show you what a real man is like. On your knees, Gryffindor slut…”

A scream pierced the quiet night sounds of the countryside like a needle to a balloon. The quaint and peculiarly shaped house was far too used to shouting and ruckus to even flinch at loud noises anymore. But this was a release of terror instead of rage, and was certainly not a typical occurrence in this place. The perpetuator of the shrill cry curled into a ball on a soft bed, shaking violently. A strong pair of arms curled protectively around the quivering form, and gentle lips whispered soothingly into a dainty ear. “Shh, Molly. Everything is okay. You’re at home; you’re safe, and I’m not letting you go. It’s all right, darling.”

The woman raised her head, looked into her protector’s eyes, and then buried her face in his nightshirt, copious tears dampening his chest. “Oh Arthur… I can’t believe it. It’s been nearly forty years since I’ve had this nightmare.” At this Arthur Weasley grabbed his wife’s shoulders and drew her up so that the long extinguished ire in his pupils met her fear filled ones. “Him?” Arthur rasped, as the painful memories washed over him too. Molly nodded numbly. “Yes, him.” Arthur sunk back, burying his face in his hands. “Why does he still haunt you? I will never forgive him for the pain he has caused!”

Molly was silent for a moment. “Arthur… I don’t think this was just a coincidence. I live for decades with my memory of him fading so that all I can see are blurs, and then all of a sudden I feel like it has just happened again? This means something… Arthur, I think someone at Hogwarts must be in danger. Yes, I can feel it! We have to go now!”

Molly leapt out of bed and began rummaging in the wardrobe for a simple robe. Arthur jumped up too. “Molly… are you sure about this? I mean…” Molly slipped the robe over her head, grabbed a pair of matronly shoes and retrieved her wand. “I just know Arthur… and I can’t let what happened to me happen to another young person. I’m going to Hogwarts right now.” After a brief pause, Arthur sighed. “I go wherever you go, my love.” Within minutes the couple was striding down the path from the Burrow, and with a spell they disappeared, heading for the gates to the ancient school.
____________________________________________________

“Well, she’s extremely exhausted, dehydrated, and has had a mild concussion, but I’ve taken care of the effects of that, stopped her bleeding, and given her a Water Replenishing Potion and a Dreamless Sleep Potion. She should be all clear to go back to her rooms tomorrow morning, but I want her to rest over the holidays. Lord knows how she works herself to the bone and forgets to eat or sleep far too often for a woman her age. And especially considering what happened earlier tonight…” Poppy Pomfrey had the grace to avert her eyes. “…I definitely recommend that she relax for once in her life. You’ll see that she does, won’t you?” she added sternly.

Albus managed to muster a small grin in return. “I assure you Poppy, that despite all her efforts to the contrary, I intend to ensure that she has a truly restful holiday.” Poppy peered up at him wryly over the tops of her spectacles. “Of course you will, Albus Dumbledore. Please, feel free to stay as long as you like. I have to make the rounds and check my other patients. Good night.” A knowing smile tugged at her lips as she left the two professors alone in the private staff ward.

Albus went over to Minerva’s side and gently brushed a loose tendril of silvery black from her temple. Her features were slack and at ease, and the comfort that knowledge brought him swept over as he finally began to weep, utterly overwhelmed by all the emotions he had experienced over the past several hours. Unconsciously his fingers found her own slender palm, and a light digit began to rub soothingly against the creamy skin of her hand.

As he kneeled by her bedside, Albus’ exhaustion overtook him. Silently, his head dropped to the edge of her pillow, and the scent of Minerva’s hair combined with the steady rhythm of her breath brought him sleep in minutes, his beard covering the place where their hands remained intertwined.

____________________________________________________

By 3:00 am, very few residents of the castle were still awake. However, just outside the silent stone building, two figures stood in a shy but passionate embrace. At last, the tallest of the pair drew back. “It is getting very late, Herm-own-ninny. Ve should go now. But I vant you to know I had a vonderful time- and I vould love to see you again.”

The shorter of the two blushed, making the red of her cheeks from the cold even brighter as virgin snowflakes christened the returning bushiness of her tawny hair. “Me too, Victor. That was very pleasant- and you truly are an excellent dancer. Perhaps I shall see you sometime tomorrow?” A heartfelt smile graced the Bulgarian’s face. “Until tomorrow, zen.” He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her gloved hand.

As Victor Krum and Hermione Granger reluctantly parted, the former noticed a strange shape by the lake not far from the Durmstrang ship he was walking towards. Curiously, he traipsed through the continually falling snow towards the dark lump, a cold feeling of dread rapidly replacing the joy he had known only moments previously. As he finally drew near, his apprehension was grimly confirmed. The lump lying partially covered by snow was a body.

Victor began to run towards the corpse, panic setting in as he fully comprehended what he was seeing. He hurriedly brushed the inch or so of flakes which had accumulated on top of the person and lit his wand with ‘Lumos’. The figure was revealed to be an older woman with spiky gray hair, lying unconscious in a golden dress of extremely thin fabric. Her skin was practically blue. Victor placed his hand on her neck, and only just barely felt a pulse.

He quickly scooped her up into his arms and began moving towards the castle as fast as he could, yelling at the top of his voice for help. This was the sight that Arthur and Molly Weasley came upon as they strode across the grounds, along with Hagrid who had let them in at the front gate.

A/N: Another cliff hanger, I know. I do apologize, but I believe that this really was the most natural place to end this chapter. And I also know that this chapter was again a bit angsty, but I do promise a happy ending. Reviews always appreciated.

[mercifulheavens]

Oh my! Yet another cliffhanger. Lovely chapter! I adored the way Albus took Minerva's hand...so sweet.

[Katheryn Mae]

Beautiful. I shame my self for not reviewing this is a while/yet since I know I already began to read it. xD

~Katheryn Rose

[phantomgirl]

Nice Story! Please update soon.....It's awesome

[admmityourlove]

A/N: Thanks to everyone for being patient. The next installment is here. In the early morning, the line between night and day is blurred, as is the line between death and life. In more ways than one...

Chapter 6

Far above the drama unfolding across the snow blanketed grounds stood a solitary figure, clad in school robes even at this hour, and shivering in the winter air. Atop the balcony of the Astronomy tower, he remained completely motionless. A beat up broomstick lay next to him, testament to how he had managed to reach this particular spot undetected by anyone. The boy in question was only fourteen years old, and yet he had known much in his young life.

There was little light for him. His father lived only to serve a master, a master who had yet to return after disappearing fourteen years ago. He never met his mother. Yes, this boy had suffered as a child, and upon arriving at Hogwarts, he had figured out that the only way to protect himself was to play the part of an idiot. After all, no one ever suspects a fool of treachery. So he ate copious amounts of rich food and became bulky and blundering. He purposefully turned in essays and practical applications with mediocre or less quality while at the same time learning everything he could. And he befriended two other sons of the Master's circle, one who really was stupid and the other a father's protégé.

In this time of peace in school, he had lived a painfully acted life but a tolerable one at the very least. But times were changing. This young man had heard the whispers of the ultimate plan, the Dark Lord's triumphant return. Draco was already talking of accepting his mark and joining the inner circle as a follower after the resurrection. Here, he was different. Gregory Goyle had never been a follower. He had acted as the most thick skulled of minions, but in truth he was always too clever, too independent, and too strong willed to ever truly bow down a mere servant.

And if forced to choose, he would choose death over darkness. Gregory Goyle grew up silently repulsed by his father's stories of the glory days of the Dark Lord's reign. At Hogwarts, he saw for the first time the side of light, the ways of love and peace absent from his upbringing. He realized that the life he saw in the ways of the Headmaster, in the ways of the Boy Who Lived, was the only one he could bear to see through.

But as time went on, he also became increasingly and despairingly aware that as the son of a Death Eater, his fate was already set in the shadows. If he ever tried to desert his upbringing, his father, his friends, or the Dark Lord himself would eliminate him. The time of reckoning would soon be upon him, and Gregory would no longer be able to hide his true allegiance. What reason did he have to continue to exist? The winds howled against his pale skin, but Goyle only stepped closer to the edge of the terrace, almost hypnotized by the pull of ice and black sky. It would be so quick... Eyes closed, he bent his knees and...­
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Помощ, някой помощ харесвам се на!” In his panic and exhaustion from sprinting through snow across the Hogwarts' Grounds, Viktor's native Bulgarian slid from his tongue as he desperately tried to find safety for the fatally chilled woman in his arms. He was almost to the doors of the castle when suddenly he heard heavy footsteps coming in his direction.

He looked wildly around and saw a rather plump young man lumbering towards him rapidly with a broomstick in hand. The second person came to a halt and gasped. "Who is that?! What happened?!" Without waiting for an answer, he dropped the broom and scooped up the woman, relieving Viktor's waning muscles. He turned her about and shouted "Madam Hooch?!" "Quick...­need...­ to get... 'er...­ inside!" Viktor Krum and Gregory Goyle rushed through the front doors, unwittingly followed by redheaded spouses and a half giant, all of whom had seen the whole exchange.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An anxious vigil continued in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing as the first rays of sun crested over the tallest trees in the Forbidden Forest. Although it was Christmas morning, only somber faces could be found among the unlikely mixture of people at Rolanda Hooch's bedside. Molly Weasley, grimly vindicated in her sense that someone had been in danger, had taken the first steps towards stabilizing the Flying Instructor while Arthur summoned Madam Pomfrey. The couple remained in the dawn hours, for Molly would not rest until she was certain the poor woman was going to be all right.

Sitting in a chair across from the Weasleys was Viktor Krum, uncharacteristically hunched over with his head in his hands. Next to him Gregory Goyle stood silently with his eyes closed, almost looking prayerful. Rubeus Hagrid was the only one who broke the eerie quiet by continually blowing his nose with a large polka dot hanky as tears dampened his cheeks- he had been friends and colleagues with Hooch for several years.

And finally there was Poppy Pomfrey herself, after a few hours still administering potions and actively monitoring her patient's signs. Despite being bleary eyed and utterly exhausted, Poppy knew full well that she had never seen anyone in Hooch's condition before. If Hooch had simply suffered from over exposure to cold or hypothermia, inner heat restoring potions combined with dry clothes and warm blankets would have healed her in less than an hour.

Instead, Hooch's vital signs were all over the place and her skin still shone an alarming paleness, as well as being cold and clammy. Violent tremors wracked her body ever so often, almost as if she were experiencing mini seizures. If the woman's condition did not improve within another hour, Poppy would have to turn her over to St. Mungo's. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for some resolution, some sense of relief. This time in the limbo proved torturous.

Finally, Poppy decided to try a concoction she didn't ever use- Draught of the Living Death. She only had one vile on stock, and in her training as a mediwitch she had learned that this "faux corpse inducing" potion should only be used if no other stabilization is possible and the patient's life is in danger. In this case, the more time Hooch remained frigid and with spasms, the less likely she was to recover.

So Poppy prayed, and tilted Hooch's head back to pour the liquid through. Within a minute, the woman's entire body relaxed and her heart rate and breathing became barely detectable. But at least she was finally out of danger, for now. The whole group breathed a sigh of relief. Hagrid volunteered to go to the kitchens and fetch some tea for everyone. At last, the sun was rising.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Achoo!" In the private staff ward only feet away from impromptu tea party, Minerva McGonagall awoke with a sneeze. Her head throbbed. She felt quite disoriented, having no idea where she was or what had happened or why there were long strands of hair draped across her face.

Managing to open an eye, she immediately identified the hair as silvery gray. And suddenly she realized that her hand was encased in another almost possessively, and that the other hand was worn yet extremely tender and warm. She knew that hand. Both eyes opened wide as the memories of everything which occurred the previous night flooded back to her. The last thing she could recall was running back to her quarters in a right state.

As she continued to gain her bearings, Minerva realized that she was in the staff ward, not a place she made a frequent habit of visiting. But much more importantly, Albus Dumbledore was sleeping next to her, his legs kneeling at her bed side while his upper body draped across her own. One hand held hers, and the other arm stretched in a half embrace across her waist. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, which explained the hair and beard now tickling her nose and mouth.

Her throat became very dry. He was so very close- she could feel his light puffs of hot breath on her collar, and the way his arm curled deliciously at her hip. What did this mean? In her musings, Minerva accidently shifted herself and caused the wizard in question to stir. Albus raised his head and his blue eyes seemed to pierce her in a way that made her insides quiver like treacle tart. His voice, groggy and yet with a hint of huskiness, broke the silent eye contact. "Good morning, Minerva".

A/N: I know this is a terrible place to leave this, but I like to keep my readers in suspense. Now, it ¡s the morning after. I assure you, everyone involved with Hooch's ordeal is important to the plot. Especially Goyle. And we certainly haven't seen the last of Ludo Bagman. Of course there's a lot more in store for Albus and Minerva too. I promise I'll update more quickly this time- my writer's block is finally gone! Reviews always appreciated.

BTW, Viktor's Bulgarian translates to "Someone help, please someone help!" I do not speak Bulgarian, so if that translation is wrong, I apologize.

[admmityourlove]

A/N: Thanks to everyone for being patient. The next installment is here. In the early morning, the line between night and day is blurred, as is the line between death and life. In more ways than one...

Chapter 6

Far above the drama unfolding across the snow blanketed grounds stood a solitary figure, clad in school robes even at this hour, and shivering in the winter air. Atop the balcony of the Astronomy tower, he remained completely motionless. A beat up broomstick lay next to him, testament to how he had managed to reach this particular spot undetected by anyone. The boy in question was only fourteen years old, and yet he had known much in his young life.

There was little light for him. His father lived only to serve a master, a master who had yet to return after disappearing fourteen years ago. He never met his mother. Yes, this boy had suffered as a child, and upon arriving at Hogwarts, he had figured out that the only way to protect himself was to play the part of an idiot. After all, no one ever suspects a fool of treachery. So he ate copious amounts of rich food and became bulky and blundering. He purposefully turned in essays and practical applications with mediocre or less quality while at the same time learning everything he could. And he befriended two other sons of the Master's circle, one who really was stupid and the other a father's protégé.

In this time of peace in school, he had lived a painfully acted life but a tolerable one at the very least. But times were changing. This young man had heard the whispers of the ultimate plan, the Dark Lord's triumphant return. Draco was already talking of accepting his mark and joining the inner circle as a follower after the resurrection. Here, he was different. Gregory Goyle had never been a follower. He had acted as the most thick skulled of minions, but in truth he was always too clever, too independent, and too strong willed to ever truly bow down a mere servant.

And if forced to choose, he would choose death over darkness. Gregory Goyle grew up silently repulsed by his father's stories of the glory days of the Dark Lord's reign. At Hogwarts, he saw for the first time the side of light, the ways of love and peace absent from his upbringing. He realized that the life he saw in the ways of the Headmaster, in the ways of the Boy Who Lived, was the only one he could bear to see through.

But as time went on, he also became increasingly and despairingly aware that as the son of a Death Eater, his fate was already set in the shadows. If he ever tried to desert his upbringing, his father, his friends, or the Dark Lord himself would eliminate him. The time of reckoning would soon be upon him, and Gregory would no longer be able to hide his true allegiance. What reason did he have to continue to exist? The winds howled against his pale skin, but Goyle only stepped closer to the edge of the terrace, almost hypnotized by the pull of ice and black sky. It would be so quick... Eyes closed, he bent his knees and...­
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Помощ, някой помощ харесвам се на!” In his panic and exhaustion from sprinting through snow across the Hogwarts' Grounds, Viktor's native Bulgarian slid from his tongue as he desperately tried to find safety for the fatally chilled woman in his arms. He was almost to the doors of the castle when suddenly he heard heavy footsteps coming in his direction.

He looked wildly around and saw a rather plump young man lumbering towards him rapidly with a broomstick in hand. The second person came to a halt and gasped. "Who is that?! What happened?!" Without waiting for an answer, he dropped the broom and scooped up the woman, relieving Viktor's waning muscles. He turned her about and shouted "Madam Hooch?!" "Quick...­need...­ to get... 'er...­ inside!" Viktor Krum and Gregory Goyle rushed through the front doors, unwittingly followed by redheaded spouses and a half giant, all of whom had seen the whole exchange.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

An anxious vigil continued in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing as the first rays of sun crested over the tallest trees in the Forbidden Forest. Although it was Christmas morning, only somber faces could be found among the unlikely mixture of people at Rolanda Hooch's bedside. Molly Weasley, grimly vindicated in her sense that someone had been in danger, had taken the first steps towards stabilizing the Flying Instructor while Arthur summoned Madam Pomfrey. The couple remained in the dawn hours, for Molly would not rest until she was certain the poor woman was going to be all right.

Sitting in a chair across from the Weasleys was Viktor Krum, uncharacteristically hunched over with his head in his hands. Next to him Gregory Goyle stood silently with his eyes closed, almost looking prayerful. Rubeus Hagrid was the only one who broke the eerie quiet by continually blowing his nose with a large polka dot hanky as tears dampened his cheeks- he had been friends and colleagues with Hooch for several years.

And finally there was Poppy Pomfrey herself, after a few hours still administering potions and actively monitoring her patient's signs. Despite being bleary eyed and utterly exhausted, Poppy knew full well that she had never seen anyone in Hooch's condition before. If Hooch had simply suffered from over exposure to cold or hypothermia, inner heat restoring potions combined with dry clothes and warm blankets would have healed her in less than an hour.

Instead, Hooch's vital signs were all over the place and her skin still shone an alarming paleness, as well as being cold and clammy. Violent tremors wracked her body ever so often, almost as if she were experiencing mini seizures. If the woman's condition did not improve within another hour, Poppy would have to turn her over to St. Mungo's. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for some resolution, some sense of relief. This time in the limbo proved torturous.

Finally, Poppy decided to try a concoction she didn't ever use- Draught of the Living Death. She only had one vile on stock, and in her training as a mediwitch she had learned that this "faux corpse inducing" potion should only be used if no other stabilization is possible and the patient's life is in danger. In this case, the more time Hooch remained frigid and with spasms, the less likely she was to recover.

So Poppy prayed, and tilted Hooch's head back to pour the liquid through. Within a minute, the woman's entire body relaxed and her heart rate and breathing became barely detectable. But at least she was finally out of danger, for now. The whole group breathed a sigh of relief. Hagrid volunteered to go to the kitchens and fetch some tea for everyone. At last, the sun was rising.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Achoo!" In the private staff ward only feet away from impromptu tea party, Minerva McGonagall awoke with a sneeze. Her head throbbed. She felt quite disoriented, having no idea where she was or what had happened or why there were long strands of hair draped across her face.

Managing to open an eye, she immediately identified the hair as silvery gray. And suddenly she realized that her hand was encased in another almost possessively, and that the other hand was worn yet extremely tender and warm. She knew that hand. Both eyes opened wide as the memories of everything which occurred the previous night flooded back to her. The last thing she could recall was running back to her quarters in a right state.

As she continued to gain her bearings, Minerva realized that she was in the staff ward, not a place she made a frequent habit of visiting. But much more importantly, Albus Dumbledore was sleeping next to her, his legs kneeling at her bed side while his upper body draped across her own. One hand held hers, and the other arm stretched in a half embrace across her waist. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, which explained the hair and beard now tickling her nose and mouth.

Her throat became very dry. He was so very close- she could feel his light puffs of hot breath on her collar, and the way his arm curled deliciously at her hip. What did this mean? In her musings, Minerva accidently shifted herself and caused the wizard in question to stir. Albus raised his head and his blue eyes seemed to pierce her in a way that made her insides quiver like treacle tart. His voice, groggy and yet with a hint of huskiness, broke the silent eye contact. "Good morning, Minerva".

A/N: I know this is a terrible place to leave this, but I like to keep my readers in suspense. Now, it ¡s the morning after. I assure you, everyone involved with Hooch's ordeal is important to the plot. Especially Goyle. And we certainly haven't seen the last of Ludo Bagman. Of course there's a lot more in store for Albus and Minerva too. I promise I'll update more quickly this time- my writer's block is finally gone! Reviews always appreciated.

BTW, Viktor's Bulgarian translates to "Someone help, please someone help!" I do not speak Bulgarian, so if that translation is wrong, I apologize.