The Comedy of Errors

The Comedy of Errors

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

Chapter 11: About cows and birds


“No, Miss Rutherton,” Minerva said crisply, looking down at a pretty girl in a black robe with the Gryffindor crest, “I certainly do not think that having trouble with your boyfriend constitutes an excuse for not doing your homework - especially not when it happens for the second time in only two weeks. You will have to learn to concentrate on your work without being distracted by your love life. Therefore not only will I expect your homework on Monday, but also a five foot essay on the basics of Animagus transformation.”

“But Professor McGonagall!” A tear rolled down the girl’s cheek. “Professor Snape’s given us a lot of homework, and there’s an essay on the goblin rebellion I have to do for History of Magic and …”

“Well,” Minerva interrupted, “it looks like you have a lot to do. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t stand around here, but get to work as soon as possible.”

“But I want to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow!” Paula Rutherton whined. “All my friends will be going!”

Piling up her papers and books Minerva raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you still here?” She turned around, cleaned the chalkboard with one wave of her wand, took up her things and marched out of her classroom. She’d taught for five hours, between classes she’d graded homework, and now she would have to slog through a huge amount of administrative paperwork. Although she often used to tease Albus about her always doing everything that had to be done for the school to run smoothly - in the ten days since his breakdown she’d once again learned how much work Albus normally managed. She’d only taken over the things he did for the school, and she’d enlisted the help of Filius Flitwick and Severus Snape. Nevertheless she spent almost every night at her desk.

But for one hour every evening she gave herself time off. And these precious sixty minutes she looked forward to all day, because she spent them in the infirmary.

For the first three days, her visits to Albus’ bedside had been a very quiet time. He’d still been feverish and exhausted, so he’d hardly been up to more than five minutes of talking, but he’d always taken Minerva’s hand, and when he fell asleep he didn’t let it go. Every time she’d tried to sneak out, he woke up and looked at her like a little boy. “Must you really leave, Minerva?”

She’d kissed his forehead then. “I have much work to do, dear. But I’ll come to visit you again tomorrow.”

So she had, and in the last few days Albus had gotten much better. Although he was still very pale and gaunt, he managed to stay awake to talk with her now. And he was already asking about school business, commenting on the news from the “Daily Prophet” Alastor got him every morning, and had even started to complain about how boring it was to be kept in the hospital wing.

Poppy rolled her eyes when she heard that. She told Minerva that she was reluctant to release him. “You know, how he is - as soon as he’s out he’ll start to work and he certainly isn’t fit for duty yet. He’ll need at least two weeks more during which he’ll have to spare himself.”


“Professor McGonagall?” Harry Potter, this time not in his auror robes, but jeans, a burgundy sweater and a black leather jacket, was waiting for her in front of her classroom. He smiled awkwardly, shuffled his feet in black dragon leather boots and cleared his throat. “I know, you’re very busy and I’ve come unannounced, but - could I perhaps have a word in private with you?”

Minerva hadn’t seen the young Auror since their talk a few weeks ago, but Hermione Granger had been at Hogwarts the previous weekend and she’d told Minerva - beaming and once again talking like a waterfall - that she’d met her friends for dinner and that they had taken the news of her engagement “reasonably well”.

So what was Harry doing at Hogwarts? Minerva didn’t want to ask him in the corridor with noisy students around - the one she’d just chastised was with two of her friends standing only a few steps away, watching the young man admiringly - and she certainly wasn’t keen on Harry Potter colliding with Severus Snape. So she answered with a friendly smile, “Just come up to my study with me. We’ll talk there.”

“Thank you, Professor McGonagall.” He walked along, smiling and waving to the familiar portraits on the walls. “It’s odd to be at Hogwarts again,” he said. “When I came this afternoon, Hagrid was out on the grounds with a group of first years and it seemed like the kids were so small. Were we ever that young?”

Minerva smiled. “I sometimes wonder about that too. The older I get, the younger the students seem to be. In a few years I’ll probably look at our first years and ask myself if they need nappies.” She arrived at her study and, murmuring her password, let Harry in, lit the fire and asked, “Would you like tea, Mister Potter?”

“No, thank you. I’ve had tea - and I don’t want to keep you too long.” Once again he shuffled his feet and ran a hand through his hair. “Professor McGonagall, I only wanted to ask you …,” He fell silent and, looking at his feet, started anew. “I mean, I just saw the Headmaster. I sent him an owl this morning, asking if he had time for a talk. I immediately got an answer. He invited me to tea this afternoon. So I came here …”

While he talked, Minerva had offered him a chair and sat down herself. Now, as Harry had once again fallen silent, she looked at him and, forcing herself to sound calm though she didn’t feel so, she asked, “Your talk with the Headmaster didn’t go as you wished?”

“No, actually … he was …” The young man was stammering. “I mean he was rather forgiving and understanding and - for him, and compared to former times - pretty open. He explained a lot of things and why he’d acted as he did. I mean it was a good talk and I’m actually grateful for you pushing me to have it last, but …,” he blushed, once again becoming insecure.

“Where’s your problem, Mister Potter?” Minerva demanded to know.

Harry breathed deeply. “Professor McGonagall, I know the Headmaster is pretty ancient, but …” Once again he broke off, looking at Minerva. “What’s the matter with the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall? I was shocked when I saw him. He looks so,” he hesitated for a moment, then proceeded, “old and fragile.”

“Small wonder after what he’s been through,” Minerva said.

Harry didn’t seem to understand and only looked questioningly at her.

Minerva furrowed her brow. How thick could a Gryffindor be? Or was this not a case of Gryffindor thickness, but rather of Slytherin pride? “Mister Potter,” she asked, “where did you meet the Headmaster?”

Harry seemed to find the question odd, but answered obediently, “In his office, of course.”

Minerva rolled her eyes. “Oh, that man!” She needed tea now - rather urgently. Standing up, she rang the little bell on the mantelpiece to call a house elf, and then looked again at Harry. “Mister Potter, the Headmaster really shouldn’t have been in his office. He should have been where he has spent the last ten days - in a bed in the infirmary. He’s recuperating from pneumonia.”

“What?” Harry swallowed. “But why didn’t he tell me? I was,” he blushed once more, “not entirely sparing of him during our talk. If I had known that he actually …”

“That’s probably the reason why he didn’t tell you,” Minerva commented and looked at the house-elf who had just appeared. “Just get me a cup of tea, Blinky, will you?”

The elf bowed. “Of course, Professor. Blinky will hurry to get you your tea” and disappeared with another “plop”.

Harry buried his face in his hands. “Hermione will kill me!” he moaned. “Yelling at Professor Dumbledore when he’s sick! She’ll have my head when she hears that!”

“You couldn’t have known,” Minerva said. “But if I were you, I’d talk more about the result than the way you came to it. The Headmaster will survive being yelled at - especially when it helped the two of you to solve your problems with each other.”

“I think it did,” Harry smiled. “Admittedly, there are still a lot of things I don’t understand about Professor Dumbledore. Why didn’t he tell me about the prophecy and my parents and the connection to my relatives earlier? I blamed him for decisions he couldn’t have made any other way, but I didn’t know because he never told me. He expected trust, but his silence made it hard.”

Minerva nodded. “He didn’t want to burden you with too much knowledge, Harry. Besides, today you’ll have to admit that it was sometimes better that you didn’t know everything that was going on. You were prone to acting very impulsively, without thinking about the consequences beforehand. And there was always the problem of your connection to Voldemort. Even the Headmaster could never be certain how much information Voldemort could glean from you. And he wasn’t only responsible for you, Mister Potter, but for a lot of other people too.”

The house-elf had come with the teapot and two cups, but Harry shook his head again. “No, really, thank you.” He looked sheepish. “I think I was rather self-centred as a student here,” he said.

Minerva had poured tea in her cup and stirred milk into it. Looking at the young man over the rim of the steaming cup, she smiled. “Teenagers usually are.”

Harry smiled back. “As a student I thought you rather impatient …”

“I am, Mister Potter,” Minerva admitted, sipping the tea. “But over the years I’ve learned not to show it on every occasion.”

“Nevertheless, Professor McGonagall, I want to thank you. Without you I couldn’t have become an Auror and without you I probably wouldn’t have tried to sort out my troubles with the Headmaster,” Harry said seriously.

Now it was Minerva who felt a bit awkward. She wasn’t used to being praised by former pupils. Looking up at the young man with a smile she answered. “I did my duty, Mister Potter. But I have to admit that you and your friends are special to me. Thinking of what you are going to become keeps me going, especially on a day when teenagers and their self-centred ways are getting on my nerves.”

Harry laughed and rose. “I said I wouldn’t keep you too long. But I’m glad we could have this talk.”

Minerva put her cup back on the table and stood up too. “Well, Mister Potter, I’m glad you came. But now toddle along! I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around your old school all day.”


***************************************

Four hours later - she’d once again worked through dinnertime, only eating a sandwich at her desk - Minerva laid her quill aside, stood up and stretched. Her back was aching after spending so much time at her desk. Under normal circumstances she would have gone up to her chambers now, and treated herself to a nice, hot bath. But this evening she had something even nicer on her agenda, so she walked over to the little bathroom attached to her study, pulled the pins out of her bun and brushed her hair until it fell shimmering and silky over her back. A look in the mirror, a small adjustment to the collar of her green robe – actually, she didn’t look too bad. Of course, she would have liked to have more time to change and perhaps dab a drop of perfume behind her ear, but it was already around half past nine. Poppy wouldn’t like it if she kept Albus up for too long, especially not after he’d already spent time out of bed. Leaving her study, Minerva changed into her cat form and sprinted up to the infirmary. The door was still connected to the emergency ward, but as Minerva entered the dimly lit room, she heard Poppy’s quick step from the office. Changing back into her human form, she called, “Poppy, it’s only me. I’m here to visit Albus.”

“Just a moment, please!” Poppy came out, her cap already off and her grey-blue eyes twinkling. “Minerva, I have good news - at least I think you’ll like it. I’m releasing Albus tomorrow. And I’ve allowed him a stroll to Hogsmeade. Afterwards he’ll have to rest - and I trust you’ll volunteer to look after him.” She was grinning now and, patting Minerva’s arm, she whispered, “I think he’s up to some exercise. If he doesn’t overdo it, it won’t hurt him.”

“Poppy!” Minerva shook her head. “What do you think of me? I won’t jump on him!”

“But you should!” Poppy said grinning. “It would do both of you a lot of good.”

“Oh, Poppy!” Minerva sighed. “You do have a one-track mind.”

“I simply know what’s good,” Poppy laughed. “Therefore I’ll call it a day now, and hope that none of our little brats will need me tonight, because I’m going to give Alastor a nice work-out.”

“Well,” Minerva smiled, “I wish you and Alastor a nice evening. When will you release Albus tomorrow?”

“Hmm - I think I’ll let him sleep as long as he wants, then do a few checks after breakfast and kick him out afterwards. So you can pick him up for lunch.”

“Fine. I’ll be there,” Minerva promised. She looked forward to having Albus out of the infirmary. And perhaps - she’d thought a lot about their relationship during the last several days and - cautiously avoiding speaking with Albus about it - she’d come to the conclusion that she still wanted him and that she really didn’t need to hear him say that he loved her as long as he made her feel beloved. And that he did, even more in the last few days than during their time in Cornwall. The way he smiled at her when she entered his room always made her heart do funny little flips, and warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

“Have a nice evening too, Minerva!” Poppy gave her a peck on the cheek and disappeared.

“Until tomorrow!” Minerva called after her and walked over to Albus’ room. As she stood in front of the door, she heard soft music from inside. Knocking, she slipped in, recognizing the melody as Bach’s Brandenburg concerto No. 1.

Albus wasn’t in his bed, but sat on the windowsill, looking out at the grounds. He wore a glorious burgundy and golden brocade dressing gown over a pristine white nightshirt, but despite the huge amount of fabric Minerva could see that he’d lost weight.

Noticing her, he smiled. And once again this smile, starting in his azure blue eyes and lighting up his entire face, made her knees go weak and her heart jump for joy. “Albus …”

Now he was down from the windowsill and approached her, opening his arms. “Minerva - how good to see you.”

She put her arms around his waist - and heavens, he really had become thin! His belly was almost gone - and buried her nose in the folds of his dressing gown, happily taking in his unique fragrance. “Sorry, I’m late,” she said. “I hope you weren’t waiting.”

“Of course I was waiting,” he answered. “But I know you were very busy.”

Rising up on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “How do you feel today?”

“Fine.” He hugged her once again, holding her close for a moment. “And now I’m even better because you’re here.” Letting her go, he sat down on his bed, offering her the chair which stood in front of it. “Harry visited me,” he told her.

Minerva sat down, folding her robe over her knees and looking up at him. His eyes were bright and happy. “I know. He came to me afterwards. And he seemed pretty relieved too.”

Albus breathed deeply. “It wasn’t easy for him, but he’s really a brave young man.”

“It wasn’t easy for you either, was it?” Minerva stroked a finger over his hand.

He took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. His tone was teasing as he asked her, “Aren’t you going to scold me for being out of bed?”

“No,” Minerva responded. “But I will if you overdo it in the next few days. You’ll have to prepare yourself to be looked after by me, you know.”

“I could think of many worse fates,” he smiled back. But then he suddenly became serious. “Minerva - you know I appreciate what you’ve done for me. And I enjoy your company very much, but you said you needed some distance and I’d hate to hurt you again …”

Minerva had known that he would come up with something like that sooner or later. Two weeks ago she would have understood it as a very polite way of telling her that he didn’t want her too close. But now she thought of what Poppy had said and what he had shown her during the past few days. However, Poppy’s advice to stop him talking - as much as she longed to kiss him, she didn’t think it the right moment for doing so. There was one thing she had to tell him beforehand, so she cleared her throat and, looking down at their still entwined hands, stated softly, but firmly, “Albus, I’ve thought a lot about you and me in the last several days. When I said that I needed distance, I was overwhelmed by my emotions and rather confused. But now I’ve had time to sort out my feelings and my mind is clear again.” Looking up in his eyes, she proceeded - and it seemed to her that even facing Voldemort hadn’t required so much courage. “I want to be with you, Albus Dumbledore. I don’t want any promises from you; I don’t want a commitment. I simply want us to be together to enjoy what is between us.”

His eyes didn’t twinkle, but had become almost grave. And his voice sounded hoarse as he said, “I can’t offer you a future, Minerva.”

“Did I ask for one?” she responded dryly. “It was you who once told me not to live in dreams about the future, but here and now. Carpe diem - isn’t that one of your favourite sayings?”

“But I don’t want you to suffer, Minerva!”

Studying his sad face Minerva decided that was time to follow Poppy’s advice. So she put her glasses down, reached up, took his spectacles off, laid them with hers on the night stand, smiled at him and, sliding her hand up his arm to his neck, pulled him close. Kissing the corner of his mouth she murmured, “You always talk too much, Albus.”

His lips were raw and, letting her tongue glide over them, Minerva decided that he didn’t get kissed often enough. But this would change now. Playing with his hair - and oh, how she’d missed wrapping it around her fingers - she explored his lips with her tongue, almost amused by his hesitation. She had obviously managed to surprise the great Albus Dumbledore and for once the conqueror of so many women wasn’t sure how to react. Minerva couldn’t help but enjoy being in the lead for once.

He didn’t give her a chance to dwell on it for too long, however. At the moment her tongue sneaked into his mouth, he reacted, opening his lips and kissing her back while at the same time pulling her up and over him while sinking backwards on the bed. Then she found herself suddenly being turned onto her back and he was over her, pinning her down on the mattress with his weight, both hands buried in her hair, showering her face with kisses, humming her name like a mantra between them.

“Albus!” She felt her body react to him. Her nipples were prickling, her breasts aching for attention, hot wetness was growing between her legs and every pore of her skin seemed to long for his touch and closeness. Her hands worked on their own accord, one stroking his neck, the other gliding over his back down to his buttocks, pressing him closer to her.

Although he wore so much fabric, Minerva could feel his erection and she longed to touch it. As reluctant as she would normally have been about sex in the infirmary - after her talk with Poppy she allowed her desire to take over, her hand snaking down into his dressing gown and over his belly to his groin.

He responded immediately, shifting to give her better access and bending down to kiss her breast, tugging at the collar of her robe.

Minerva’s hand found what it had been searching for and gripping his stiff penis through his nightshirt elicited a moan. “Minerva - oh Gods, Minerva.”

His throaty voice affected her like a lust potion. She found herself shoving the annoying nightshirt out of the way, searching for a way to get under it and closer to him while he was working on her robe, his trembling fingers opening the buttons on her collar, kissing the skin he revealed and grumbling, “Hell – why is there so much fabric?”

Minerva laughed. Letting his erection go she pulled her wand out of her sleeve. “Isn’t it convenient that I’m a witch?” she asked, rose slightly and waved her wand, murmuring an undressing charm, then looked almost hungrily at his naked skin. His body showed that he’d been sick; his chest looked skinnier than she remembered it and his belly was almost gone. Yet his hard penis was as impressive as when she had last seen it and, bending down, she kissed the tip of it. Then she tugged at the blanket and looked into his eyes, already dark blue with lust. “In with you! We can’t have you catching another flu and Filius speculating about who didn’t cover you pro …”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence. From outside she heard noise - the bang of a door, a hard bump, something that sounded like a cow and then Severus’ voice, sounding very distressed, “For heaven’s sake, Miss Parkinson - be sensible! The mediwitch will look after you immediately.”

Albus rolled his eyes. “Parkinson!” he moaned.

Minerva was already closing the buttons on her collar. “I’ll have a look.”

Albus caught her hand. “Curiosity killed the cat, Minerva. I think Poppy and Severus will be able to deal with our favourite student. So come back to me, Darling Minerva.”

Minerva bent over him for another kiss. “You’re probably right,” she said, but couldn’t help listening to what was going on outside.

Poppy had obviously arrived in the emergency ward now. Minerva heard her energetic voice, “Stop mooing, Miss Parkinson! And keep still for Merlin’s sake!”

Albus stroked Minerva’s hair. “Whatever the girl has gotten herself into this time - I’m not interested. I’m only interested in you …”

Unfortunately he wasn’t the only one interested in Minerva. From the emergency ward she heard Poppy rant, “Whoever’s done that is pretty good. Finite doesn’t work.”

Severus answered “I tried that earlier. It doesn’t work, so we’ll need a Transfiguration master. I’ll go get Minerva.”

“I’ll get her!” Poppy said and then her quick steps could be heard in the corridor.

Minerva looked at Albus and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m so sorry - but I promise, I’ll be back as soon as possible!”

He sighed, folded his hands behind his head and grumbled, “This school could be truly great! If only the student’s didn’t always ruin all the fun!”

Minerva was already on her way to the door. Opening it, she asked Poppy, “What happened?”

“Someone thought Miss Parkinson’s appearance should be improved,” Poppy grinned. Laying her hand on Minerva’s arm she whispered, “I hope I disturbed something hot.”

“Poppy Pomfrey, sometimes you’re impossible!” Minerva reproached her. Stepping into the emergency ward, she had to stifle her laughter. Patty Parkinson had obviously gotten very much on someone’s nerves - and that someone had done a really great job of “improving her appearance”. The girl had cow’s ears, a cow’s tail and a cow’s snout - all in a nice black and white pattern. However, the expression in her eyes wouldn’t have suited a cow of the Friesian variety, because she looked very furious. So did her Head of House, standing next to her, his arms crossed over his chest and the trademark sneer firmly in place. “Finite doesn’t work,” he explained, sounding as if he took it personally.

Minerva furrowed her brow, but swallowed the question of how the Potions master had managed to get through his NEWTs without being able to recognize transformation spells. “Finite Incantatum” never worked with them - it only finished light hexes, curses and jinxes. But this obviously was a rather good transfiguration. Pulling her wand out, Minerva checked the magic done on the girl and said crisply, “Congratulations. None of these transformations are permanent. They’ll wear off.”

The girl made a protesting sound, her eyes - Minerva couldn’t help thinking that their pale blue colour actually would have made for a nice cow - now blazing.

For a moment, Minerva was tempted to put her wand back in her sleeve and order the girl to just wait. However, the idea of another visit from a furious Madame Parkinson - no, a talk with her wasn’t high on Minerva’s list of ways to entertain herself over the weekend. So she raised her wand, directed it at the girl’s tail and removed it. Next came the ears, followed by the snout. She had barely finished when the girl yelled, “It was Forster and O’Gradey!”

Minerva made a mental note to look closer into the transfiguration work of those two Slytherin fifth years. She hadn’t realized they were so talented. Perhaps, with a bit of extra tutoring, they would develop nicely. But before that they would have to be told that practising on housemates wasn’t allowed. Looking at Severus, who glared at the girl - speaking out in front of the Gryffindor Deputy Headmistress was a clear break of the Slytherin code, as even Minerva knew - she said, “You’ll resolve that, Severus?”

“Of course I will!” He sounded really angry and Minerva found herself almost pitying the Slytherins who would have to face their master’s fury. Dealing with a cross Snape certainly wasn’t fun. On the other hand, she was sure that the Parkinson girl would get her share too - and perhaps Severus would finally manage to teach the girl that calling for her mummy every time something didn’t go as she wished wasn’t the best way to get through Hogwarts.

Severus just growled at the girl. “You’ll go down to the common room where you’ll wait for me. Make certain that I don’t have a reason to be even angrier when I come down!”

Patty Parkinson hopped off the bed she’d been sitting on and ran to the door, obviously wanting to get out of Severus’ range as quickly as possible. But her head of house didn’t let her get away so easily. “Miss Parkinson,” he said, his voice silken, but nevertheless so menacing that Minerva felt it like a cold shower on her back. The girl obviously felt it too, because she looked scared as she turned around. Severus watched her out of narrowed eyes. “Haven’t you forgotten something, Miss Parkinson?”

Although Patti Parkinson had her own features back, Minerva thought that she looked like a cow again, obviously not understanding what Severus wanted from her. But he didn’t let her wait long to find out. “Manners!” he hissed.

Now the girl looked as if Severus was making her swallow a toad. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall,” she said, her head down.

Severus nodded. “And now to the common room, Miss Parkinson!” The girl fled and he looked at Poppy. “What do you think? Could I perhaps see Albus for a moment?”

Poppy quickly looked at Minerva, but then she nodded. “If you have to - you know where he is.”

“Good evening, Poppy, Minerva!” He nodded and stalked away, leaving the two women alone.

Poppy sighed. “Slytherins! I’ll never understand the lot. Can you tell me what he wants from Albus now?”

Minerva shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t ask me! Most likely, he only wants to let his charges sweat a bit before he comes down on them.”

Suddenly Poppy giggled. “I hope you didn’t leave Albus in a compromising position!”

Minerva promptly blushed, thinking of Albus’ dressing gown and nightshirt hanging on the chair next to the bed. She hoped he’d dressed himself again. The idea of Severus learning what his student had just prevented really didn’t appeal to her.

Poppy obviously found Minerva’s pink cheeks amusing. Laying her hand on her friend’s arm, she laughed, “Minerva - tomorrow you’ll have Albus all to yourself. And he’s very much looking forward to it, you know. He was so cute today. When I mentioned that you’d probably like to accompany him on a little stroll, he was beaming and almost jumped for joy.”

Minerva was smiling now too. “You really think …?” She let the line hang.

Poppy squeezed her arm. “Minerva, sometimes one sees better from a little distance. In this case, I would bet my bum on him loving you. And you know I’m rather fond of my backside.”

“So am I!” a dark voice grumbled from the door. Alastor Moody, wearing only a white shirt and brown trousers, leaned on the doorframe.

“Do you feel neglected, luv?” Poppy rushed over to him, kissing his cheek. “I’m finished here.”

“So am I.” Minerva smiled at the couple. “I’ll say goodnight to Albus and then I’ll go shoo my Gryffindors into bed. They’re always rather excited the night before a Hogsmeade day.”

Alastor grinned, his magical eye rotating. “Shall I take over? Then you could tuck Albus in. He certainly would like that.”

“Severus is with Albus at the moment,” Poppy said.

“Well - if I had the choice between being tucked in by Severus or Minerva, I’d take Minerva,” Alastor promptly laughed.

“You won’t get the chance, you dirty old man!” Poppy pushed him through the door of her office, looking over her shoulder at Minerva. “Slytherins!”


************************************************

What had Poppy called Albus? “Cute” had been the term, and although Minerva hadn’t until now thought of him as “cute”, she found that the description rather suited him at the moment. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched him. He was like a child - a child in a sweet shop to be exact. Honeydukes, the shop they’d entered ten minutes before, obviously was what Albus considered his personal paradise. At the moment, he was standing in front of a shelf of enchanted lollypops which were smiling at him and, waving and making funny faces, he was apparently trying to find out if they’d react to him. It was obvious that he had entirely forgotten about the world around him, happily sucking on a new kind of drop the shop owner had offered him as he came in.

Minerva, holding the tin of Ginger Newts she’d picked for herself, suddenly felt someone looking at her and, turning her head, she saw two of her seventh year girls smiling at her. The way they watched Albus, who had just discovered a jar of dancing jelly beans, showed not only amusement, but something like motherly tenderness. They apparently thought their Headmaster “cute” too, and for once Minerva didn’t find their grinning inappropriate, but instead felt connected to them. As young as they both were, they were already women and as such saw the child in the man and were touched by it. He was obviously happy at the moment - and although the students hadn’t known how sick he’d been, they had worried about him and were glad to see him on his feet again.

Suddenly Minerva remembered a scene in his office during the war. It had been during the time Fudge had fought to keep his office as Minister of Magic by fiercely denying that Voldemort was back. This had led him to become hostile towards Harry - so much so that he’d tried to get the boy expelled from Hogwarts. Upon discovering that Harry and his friends had founded a secret group for exercising Defence against the Dark Arts, Fudge had seen his big chance. Yet Albus had defended the boy, and on that day Minerva had, for once, been glad that he was a Slytherin because he’d needed every trick in the book - from lying coldly to using Legilimency on a fellow Order member and auror who had, ordered by Albus, Obliviated the student who’d been Fudge’s witness - to get Harry out of trouble.

Albus had been as cool and collected as only a Slytherin could be in a dangerous situation like that, but there had been one moment in which he’d been overwhelmed by emotions and Minerva was certain she would never forget it. The expression in his eyes when he’d learned that Harry and his friends had named their group “Dumbledore’s Army” had almost brought her to tears. Albus had looked at the parchment where the name had been written, and in the ten seconds until his brain had sprung back to the task of saving Harry, Minerva had registered wonder, gratitude and deep joy in his eyes. And she - as proud she’d been of her students and as terrified because she hadn’t seen a way out of this situation - had felt like laughing at him and saying, “Oh Albus - didn’t you know they love you?”

He still didn’t get it - and that was perhaps part of what the students loved about him. They felt how much he cared for all of them; they sensed that he would sacrifice himself for them without thinking twice about it; that he worked for his children - and he saw them as his children, every single one of them – to have a happy childhood, and he didn’t expect anything from them in return. But as self-centred as they often were - and it was always Albus who defended them even for that, saying “That’s the way children are” - they loved him back.

And they were proud of him. Although Minerva could no longer count how often she’d heard students talking about their Headmaster being “a bit cuckoo, but a genius” or him being the “greatest wizard alive”, it never failed to touch her.

“Minerva - look there!” He’d discovered another new invention of the sweet shop. It looked like an ordinary cake, but it was “magical ice cream” as the sign on it said. Albus had already read all that was written there and told her with beaming eyes, “It’s marvellous! You put a slice on your plate and then you tip your wand against it, saying which flavour you want. Aberforth would have loved that! He was so fond of spinach ice cream, but could rarely get it. Fortescue refused to offer it.”

“Spinach ice cream?” Minerva shuddered. “I wouldn’t want to try that.”

“Well,” Albus obviously wasn’t too fond of spinach ice cream either, “my brother was always into healthy food. Lots of vegetables, you know. But wouldn’t you like to try this magical ice cake?”

Considering that it was a rainy and chilly November day, Minerva really wasn’t very interested in ice cream, but Albus’ enthusiasm was infectious and she didn’t want to be a spoilsport. So she smiled. “It would be nice for tea, don’t you think?”

“It would be wonderful!” he assured her. Putting the cake in his already well filled basket, he came closer to her, bending down and whispering in her ear, “After tea I’d like to have cat’s kisses. Do you think I could have some?”

His husky voice and the warmth of his body next to hers made her breasts prickle again. Since their little encounter in the infirmary - discontinued because of her duties in Gryffindor tower - her body had become almost oversensitive. The little kiss Albus had greeted her with when she’d picked him up for their stroll to Hogsmeade had already made her want to be alone with him and now she had to keep her hands firmly in her pockets to keep from touching him. Instead she smiled and answered, as quietly as he’d spoken to her, “The cat will like that, I think. She only hopes there won’t be any snakes around this time …”

Albus laughed out loud, but when Minerva asked what amused him so much, he only shook his head, pointing surreptitiously to the four Slytherins who had just entered the shop. “Later, Minerva,” he whispered.

Right at this moment the four students discovered their Headmaster and their Deputy. The three boys bowed their heads while the girl bent her knee in a hint of a curtsey and in unison the quartet greeted, “Good day.” However, they didn’t agree about who would come first in the greeting. The girl and the blonde boy decided on rank over gender and proceeded with “Headmaster, Professor McGonagall,” while their friends kept to the “ladies first” rule with “Professor McGonagall, Headmaster”.

Albus was quicker than Minerva in his response. Bowing his head he greeted them back, sounding formal, but a little amused, “Good afternoon, Miss Delancey, Mister Anderson, Mister Hoskins, and Mister O’Gradey.”

Minerva once again admired his memory. She was happy to be able to manage the names of her two hundred and fifty Gryffindors. She didn’t even try to memorize two hundred Slytherins too, but helped herself with a little magical trick involving the class list she always kept on her desk. Pointing her wand at one of the pupils made his or her name shine in the colour of the house to which the student belonged. Nevertheless, Minerva didn’t pretend to know all their names, so now she only nodded at them and said politely, “Good afternoon.”

Exchanging a look with Albus she once again knew exactly what he was thinking. Like her he was amused at the Slytherins showing such impeccable manners. They’d obviously received a house-wide dressing down from their Head the evening before - and once again Minerva found herself wishing that for once she could have been a fly on the wall of the Slytherin common room when Severus told his charges off. She’d never appreciated his teaching methods, but she could only admire his dealings with his students. As head of that particular Hogwarts house, Severus certainly had the most difficult task, always balancing on a very thin line between using the pure-blood pride of his pupils to get the best out of them and, at the same time, keeping it at bay so as not to alienate them from the rest of the school entirely. And the fact that people tended to forget about the “good” Slytherins like the former Slytherin Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black, Albus, and the Aurors Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, but only remembered the evil ones like former Slytherin Head Boy Tom Marvolo Riddle, who had become Voldemort, didn’t make Severus’ job easier. He probably wouldn’t have believed it, but Minerva was well aware how unfairly Slytherin was treated compared to her own house.

Her Gryffindor lions basked in the glory of their heroes - Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and the Weasleys - Arthur, who was now Minister of Magic, his children Charlie, Bill, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny as well as their formidable mother Molly - who’d all fought against Voldemort. The fame of these Gryffindors overshadowed the dark spots on the lion’s crest - like Peter Pettigrew who had betrayed Harry’s parents and become Voldemort’s right hand; Cornelius Fudge who as Minister of Magic had set his own vanity over his duties, and Percy Weasley, whose ambitions had set him against his own family.

Sometimes Minerva found that Gryffindors who went the wrong way were even worse than Slytherins who became Death Eaters and murderers. Gryffindors lived in the light, enjoying the appreciation and the trust of almost all the people around them. They only had to stay where they were to be seen as “good”. But for the Slytherins - at least for the Slytherins in the lifetime of Voldemort - it would always be a very long road. More than half of them came from families connected to the Dark Lord, some of them - like young Severus Snape - had grown up in homes where Dark magic was used on a daily basis. For most of them, fighting the evil had meant that they had to go against family and former friends.

“Minerva?” Albus was - finally - done with his shopping. He’d paid for his purchases, shrunk them and was now putting the little bag with his sweets in an inner pocket of his cloak. “What shall we do now? Do you want to go to the bookshop?”

Minerva paid for her Ginger Newts and shook her head. As much as she normally liked to visit the bookshop, she hadn’t forgotten that Albus was out of bed for the first time in over a week and shouldn’t overstrain himself. Smiling at him she said, “Let’s go back to the school, shall we? I long for tea.”

“Oh, of course!” There was this special twinkling in his eyes which always made her knees go weak.

He took her elbow as they walked out of the shop into the crowded street. It was the lightest of touches, but it was enough to make Minerva want to hex away all the passers-by. She so wanted to kiss Albus - in length and in detail - right on the spot!

To distract herself she asked, “What was it that amused you so much before?”

He laughed and bent down a little. “When you said you wouldn’t like to be disturbed by a Slytherin again, I wondered if I could perhaps ask Severus to keep them away from you for the evening. And then I imagined him as an Indian snake charmer in a loincloth with a flute …”

Minerva shuddered. “The sight of Severus in a loincloth would certainly be enough to paralyze me! But that probably comes from being a Gryffindor.”

“I’m glad the sight of a scantily clad Slytherin doesn’t generally work on you like that,” Albus responded, lightly squeezing her arm.

“Well - I’ve never seen you in a loincloth,” Minerva shot back. “Although I seem to remember a story about two drunken Slytherins Apparating in the middle of a Ministry party, clothed in nothing more,” Minerva teased him.

“But that was ages ago!” Albus defended himself. “Besides, who was the Gryffindor student who celebrated her NEWTs by flying round the Main tower wearing only a flimsy nightie? Armando Dippet said you came so close to his window he could see your …”

“Albus! I don’t want to hear it!” Minerva was blushing.

“Really?” Albus grinned. “But he praised your …”

“Albus Dumbledore! Do you want to be hexed?” Minerva threatened him.

“Hmm - I’d actually prefer to …,” with one quick move he pulled her around a corner and into a very small, dark alley between two houses, “… be kissed.” And before she had a chance to respond, he took her in his arms. His lips - still a bit raw - landed on hers, and although she wanted to protest, she felt her mouth open in response to his tongue demanding entrance, and her arms rose and wrapped around his neck.

Yet she didn’t allow herself to become entirely overwhelmed. Breaking the kiss, she shook her head. “Really, Albus! You’re impossible! I really don’t want to be caught kissing you by a student or colleague.”

“Well - this we can prevent.” A wave of his hand and she felt the familiar prickle of his magic in the air around her. He’d cast a shielding charm and now he was bending down again, his lips gliding over her cheek and his hand cupping her breast.

Minerva closed her eyes, and for a moment she simply enjoyed the sensations caused by his touch. But then she caught his marauding hand. “Don’t you think we’d feel more comfortable at home?” she asked. “You know I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“Oh yes.” His free hand was under her cloak, tenderly fondling her backside. “You feel endearingly adult, my dear.”

“Albus! Don’t start what you can’t finish!” she reminded him once again.

“But I intend to finish! And no Slytherin will keep me away this time!” Albus kissed her once again, holding her close.

This time she didn’t resist, but responded to the kiss with all the passion she felt for him. She couldn’t remember ever wanting a man as much as she wanted him at this moment. Every cell of her body seemed to be filled with longing and need for him, and she wished nothing more than to Apparate with him directly to a bedroom – right now, she wouldn’t even care if it was his or Sybil Trelawney’s as long as she could be sure that no one would disturb her there - to rip his robes off and have him - at last - inside her again. But the Anti-Apparition wards at Hogwarts were still in place, and that meant they would have to walk up from the gates of the castle and climb the stairs to his tower, and they would probably meet a lot of students and teachers on their way back.

As hard as it was, she had to break the kiss and push him far enough away to be able to breathe again. But now he was looking like a boy who’d just had his sweets taken away. Minerva couldn’t resist this look and stroked his cheek. “Let’s go home, shall we?” she whispered. “I want you very much, but I’d really prefer to have you in a bed!”

He smiled. “Yours or mine?”

“Yours,” Minerva replied, already moving back to the main road. “Your tower certainly isn’t as crowded as the corridor around my door.”

Never before, not even on the chilliest of winter nights, had Minerva found the way up to the castle so long. She shoved both her hands deep into the pockets of her cloak to keep herself from touching Albus. She didn’t even dare look at him because she was afraid she’d lose herself in his eyes. And then she probably would have kissed him in the middle of the path, not caring anymore about who could see it.

Finally they arrived at the Main tower and as soon as the stone gargoyle closed the entrance behind the couple, Albus pulled Minerva into his arms, his mouth once again on her lips. “Merlin, Minerva, I need you!” he whispered before he plundered her mouth, his hands under her cloak and pressing her close to him.

Minerva closed her eyes and, burying her hands in his mane, kissed him back, her entire body trembling with lust and desire. But feeling his hair and his mouth wasn’t enough. Minerva’s hand slid down under his collar, her fingers searching for his skin while she pressed her entire length against him. He was aroused, his erection poking in her belly, and Minerva longed to touch it and to feel it inside her body. And now she wouldn’t have to wait much longer! The spiralling staircase had brought them directly to the antechamber in front of his bedroom and, as he stepped up from it, Albus shoved her cloak over her shoulders, his mouth kissing down her neck while his hands kneaded her breasts. “Minerva - I missed you so!” he whispered, letting his own cloak fall. Pushing the door open with his backside, he opened her robe and kissed her neck.

Minerva didn’t bother with his outer robe, but was already working on the buttons of his silken under robe. They were tiny and her fingers trembled, and there were so many buttons and she didn’t have the patience to deal with them. Pulling her wand out of her sleeve, she turned her head and …

“Albus!” she cried.

“What …” His eyes followed the direction of her gaze. “Oh Merlin - Fawkes!” He almost jumped onto the bed where - in a kind of nest made from Albus’ pillow and a night shirt - the phoenix sat. He looked quite bedraggled; a lot of feathers were missing on his neck and back, some of his glorious tail was also gone, and there was a big bald spot on his belly. And the way he sat - very cautiously, keeping his belly away from the bed by bracing himself on his feet, looked rather odd too.

Albus was already kneeling next to the bird, tenderly stroking his neck. “Fawkes - what happened to you?” he asked. “Who did that to you?”

The phoenix produced a whining sound and snuggled his head into Albus’ stroking hand. “Are you injured, Fawkes?” Albus asked.

Right at that moment Minerva saw something golden under Fawkes’ belly, and it dawned on her. One more look at the phoenix - and then she couldn’t hold herself back any longer. She started to laugh, tears running down her cheeks and her sides aching.

Fawkes and Albus obviously didn’t share her amusement. Albus looked almost shocked at her while Fawkes cawed. Then he bent down, pulled his golden egg out from under his belly, rolled it carefully over the mattress into Albus’ lap, looked up at him, produced a satisfied chirp, spread his wings, hovered for a moment over the bed, and disappeared in a flame.

Minerva still couldn’t stop laughing. Looking at Albus, who obviously still hadn’t entirely understood what had happened to him, she chuckled, “Fawkes is going to be a father! And he expects you to participate in the brooding! Welcome to the world of nesting, Albus!”

“I can’t believe it!” Albus gasped at the golden egg in his lap. “Where is Lady Fawkes, for heaven’s sake?”

“Considering Lord Fawkes look, I’d say she isn’t much for ‘happily ever after’.” Minerva sat down on the bed, still shaking with laughter.

“And where’s this feathered nuisance gone now?” Albus ranted. “What does he think? I certainly won’t do his brooding for him!”

“Perhaps,” Minerva giggled, “Fawkes just had to go to the little phoenixes’ room?” Stretching over the bed, she studied the egg. “It’s marvellous, isn’t it?”

Albus only grumbled, but laid his hand protectively over the egg.

“Aren’t you happy for Fawkes?” Minerva asked, amused.

Albus stroked over her head with his free hand. “I’d certainly be happier if he would look after his egg himself - and not in my bed!”

“You will have to sleep on the sofa!” Minerva announced cheerfully.

“Or I’ll have to look for asylum,” Albus twinkled at her. “Do you think I’d have a chance in a certain bedroom in Gryffindor tower?”

“If you promise you won’t steal my blanket, I’ll think about it,” Minerva smiled. “But what will you do with your egg?”

“This isn’t my egg!” Albus protested. “It’s Fawkes’. And I absolutely refuse to do his dirty work for him. He had the fun, now he’s got to do the work too.”

“Fawkes doesn’t seem to think so, considering that he’s gone,” Minerva said. As much as she would have loved to have Albus to herself - she found the sight of him with the phoenix egg in his lap incredibly funny.

Albus, however, seemed rather frustrated. Looking gloomily at the egg, he asked, “Do you think we could enchant it to keep its temperature without me holding it all the time?”

“Do you know what temperature a phoenix egg needs?” Minerva gave back.

“No! How should I? I only have a phoenix’ body, not his mind.”

“Well - that answers your questions, doesn’t it?” Minerva said. “I don’t think Fawkes would approve of you making his chick a boiled egg.”

Albus groaned again, looking towards the window as if he hoped to see Fawkes out there. “You know,” he said after a little moment, “I was just thinking - what happens when one tries to throttle a phoenix?”

“I think one would burn one’s fingers,” Minerva responded. “But look at the bright side, Albus. You’re going to be the godfather of a little phoenix.”

“That just what I’ve dreamed of!” Albus rolled his eyes. “A second phoenix chick! Do you know how demanding Fawkes is after a burning day? He always wants to sleep in my bed!”

“He obviously is fond of your bed,” Minerva laughed.

“Oh my!” Albus sighed. “What do we do now?”

“You don’t have many options. You have to keep the egg warm.” Minerva braced herself on her arms and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure Fawkes will come back soon,” she consoled him.

“You know, I like him being happy and having a chick,” Albus said, using his free hand to pull the pins out of her bun, “but I was so looking forward to being with you!”

Minerva shifted and, carefully avoiding coming close to the egg, snuggled her head against his arm. “Albus, I’m sure Fawkes won’t let you down. He’ll be back soon to release you. And then we’ll have time for each other.”

Just at that moment Fawkes reappeared, carrying a tiny, shrivelled apple in his claw. He let it drop down onto the bed before he settled next to Albus, using his beak to roll the egg down from Albus’ lap under his belly. Looking reproachfully at Albus, he started to nibble on the apple.

“He’s hungry, Albus!” Minerva stated. “Didn’t you feed him?”

“How could I?” Albus shot back. “Neither of us has been here for days!”

“Well - what about feeding him now?” Minerva asked.

“Yes, yes, yes. I’m the slave of this beast!” Albus rose, looking down at the phoenix. “Is your bird as bossy as mine?” he asked.

The phoenix looked rather gloomy. Minerva petted his neck. “Sometimes your human friend is as sensitive as a brick wall, Fawkes. You have my sympathy.”

“What have I done now?” Albus had gone to a closet and come back to the bed with a paper bag. Opening it, he summoned a bowl from the table next to the fireplace, filled it with crackers and put it down in front of the phoenix. “Here you go.”

Minerva was still stroking the phoenix. “I’m looking forward to meeting your chick, Fawkes. And you mustn’t grieve so much about your lady leaving the two of you. You won’t be a lonely single father - we’ll be there for you, helping you.”

“Will we?” Albus raised an eyebrow. “Does this mean you’ll baby sit the chick when I’m away?”

“We’ll see,” Minerva said. Looking at Fawkes she asked, “Will you be able to manage without us for a while, old boy?”

The phoenix interrupted his nibbling on a cracker and emitted something that sounded like, “If you must leave, I’ll bear it.”

Minerva stood up. “Good boy, Fawkes!” Taking Albus’ hand in hers, she pulled him to the door. “Isn’t it good that I’m my own pet? That means I have my bed all to myself - except for the times I decide to share it with you.”


To be continued …