The Tempest

The Tempest


By: Max

[Disclaimer: see chapter 1]

Chapter 13: Becoming a teacher - 2004

Letter from Alastor Moody, Head of the Auror’s Department,
To Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft
London, October 28, 2004

Dear friend,

Of course I’d already heard that you gave another DADA teacher the sack - you know how quick news travels in our world. Dashakov’s exit was the talk of the day here with me only wondering why your wife didn’t hex his balls off. He’d have deserved it for fondling her just under your nose - though I must ask you for what you actually y thy that big nose if it doesn’t make you smell trouble sooner. Dashakov is - and this I could have told you before you hired him - an idiot, always running in the direction in which his variouectiections are pointing. To keep him under the same roof as Narcissa was asking for trouble - and before you try to hex me: No, I don’t think she provoked him in doing anything “indecent”. Just on the contrary: Her inaccessibility is what makes her irresistible to idiots like Dashakov (and probably to you too. Less of challenges have always bored you long before they stood a chance to get you close to a regist#821#8217;s office).

To your question: I could “lend” you a DADA teacher, at least until term’s end. Yet I don’t know why you’d need one from us. He - or she as the case my be (and it would be better it were a her because the only male I could send you with a guarantee for not making a pass on your wife is Bardoli who still has this crush on you. But if you want to trade place with your wife, just let me know) would need weeks to adapt - as I mustn’t tell you because you actually should know yourself.

Augustus - by the way: He sends his regards and his sympathy. Yet he likes you being pestered by his lawfully wedded dragon better than being ranted at for hours himself, therefore he won’t come back before his case is finished - and I think the salvation for your DADA problem is just under your nose. But with the thing being so big and crooked you probably don’t see it. So it’s good you have me for telling you: Hire your wife, Albus. Or don’t you know how strong a witch she is? And considered what she knew about her former husband’s activities and how detailed she was informed about this “library” of his (even we here don’t dare to put all the books Malfoy jr. donated to us from his father’s library openly in the shelves) she’d probably made an auror’s exams just between dinner annginnging you. Except of course your pet death eater (by talking about him: Is he house trained now in being a married man?) Snape you’ll hardly find some one with so much knowledge and experience - outside of Azkaban, that is.

And for the inevitable uproar it would make - who cares? People will become use to it. They came in use with Snape too - and he’s got much more of a record than your wife.

Think about it - if you’ble ble to think (with your head) around Narcissa. My regards to her!

Yours
Alastor


Journal of Narcissa Dumbledore,
Hogwarts, November 6, 2004

I’m not consistent and I behave like a love struck teenager who can’t accept loving some one doesn’t lead automatically to this person loving one back. I hope against all hope, I try to explain coldness and distance with “he’s hurt, but with time he’ll heal” and I read affection out of what is only manners. I know it, I feel ashamed for it and my pride is hurt by it, but I can’t stop loving him. Even if I’m cross with him - and he’s got a talent in making me livid! - and even if I feel like hexing him: I can’t stop loving him.

Sometimes I wish I could go away again. It was easier when I was in Saumur. I loved him there too and I missed him so badly it sometimes really hurt. But I could dream of him, I could dwell on my memories without becoming disturbed by a cruel reality.

I can’t go away again. I could leave him, but I couldn’t leave our child. Living with her, seeing how she grows is worth the pain of living with Albus.

I’m wailing in self-pity. It’s not always pain. Most days its bearable and sometimes it’s even … sometimes it is as if at least our friendship would have survived. There are moments - beautiful moments - in which I feel my bound to him and know that he feels it too. It’s our love of Raven - the only thing we really share, but because she means so much to both of us, the bound is strong.

There’s more. If it were not for Raven - for how he loves her - I would probably doubt him and everything that was between us. If I wouldn’t see the very day that he’s able and willing to love, I’d probably think he’s got no heart and that he never loved, but only desired me.

Two nights before I thought for a glorious moment he’d still love me. It was such a beautiful night - very cold, but the sky was clear and the stars as bright as I’ve never seen them in any other place. I looked at Polaris - my old friend - and remembered the night in which Raven was born. It was a cold night too - cold and clear.

Suddenly I heard a rustle of strong wings. A cheerful melodious chirping sounded through the dark and then Fawkes landed next to me on the rail. I thought he’d been out for hunting - I know he loves to fly through the night. I lend him my arm and graceful as always he climbed onto it, looking up to me out of his beautiful dark eyes. Did he remember the February night too? He’d been with me then. He’d suddenly appeared on the window and his presence and his soft chirping had comforted me.

“Fawkes …” I stroked with one finger over his neck how he likes it. “Do you remember? She was beautiful, wasn’t she? You gave her a feather - I still have it. She’ll get it when she’s older. Perhaps it will become the core of her wand. It would suit her, don’t you think?”

Fawkes nibbled affectionately on my finger and then I heard another sound - the hoarse cry of the falcon. Albus landed on the stone rail, jumped down and changed back to his human form. “Here you are, Fawkes!” Smiling at me, he added: “He’s still into the old tricks. In London he made me fly - he was all evening jumpy. But over Yorkshire he suddenly got enough and disapparated. Lazy bone!” He stroked Fawkes’ neck.

“And you’ve flied all the way?” I asked. “Aren’t you cold?”

Albus laughed. “No, I’m not. Just on the contrary. You know Gyrfalcons actually live in North Europe - Greenland and Iceland. Cold doesn’t get to them. I only don’t like heath when I’m in the animal form. But aren’t you cold?”

“I have no feathers, but a warm robe.” I pulled it closer around me. “And the night is so beautiful. It reminds me …” I fought for a moment against my pride, but then I said it: “It reminds me of the night Raven was born.” I stroked over the phoenix’ neck again. “Fawkes was with me. Did you know that?”

“I supposed so.” Albus sounded very calm, but not distant. “I thought he was with you or at least close to you.”

“He sat on the windows sill,” I told quietly. “All the time.”

“Where were you, Narcissa?”
breabreathed deeply. “In Hogsmeade,” I said then, feeling silly by it. But as I had decided to get our child there, it had felt right.

“Hogsmeade?” He sounded thoughtful. “Of that I’d never thought. Severus and Draco were sure you were in Rome and Severus searched there for you.”

“So I’ve heard,” I said.

“You did? Persephone told me she wouldn’t know where you are …”

“I asked to to - on her witch’s word of honour.” It felt odd to talk about. Hadn’t he said he wouldn’t like to speak about our past? “She was my last contact to our world.”

“I’m glad you kept it,” Albus saiietlietly.

“I had to. If something would have happened to me, she’d have looked after Raven and got her to you,” I explained. “I had promised to get you your child …”

Silence. For a few minutes we stood there in silence, but not hostile, only thoughtful. Then he whispered: “It was hard, wasn’t it?”

I fought against tears. “It was the hardest thing I ever had to do - except for leaving you.” In the moment I said it I wished already I could take it back.

He didn’t answer. He only lent there on the wall, looking at me.

“Albus …” I rarely use his name. It still reminds me too much of times were this name was another love for “warmth” and “love”. Rherehere’s one thing I wanted to tell you.” I really wanted, but I needed all my courage for it. So I swallowed and started again: “I didn’t trick you with a fertility charm or something like that. I was myself very much surprised when I learned that I was pregnant.”

After a few seconds he finally spoke. “I never felt tricked. I knew myself when it happened. It was my fault, not yours.”

“Fault?” I didn’t like the word. “I don’t think of Raven as a fault.”

“I don’t either,” Albus sounded calm. “But you have to admit that we could have chosen a better time for her appearance.”

“Only we wouldn’t have chose,” I said quietly. “Look at us: A couple for only a few weeks and then …”

Silence again. Only Fawkes made a sound like a grumble, then he flied away. I shrugged my shoulders. Without Fawkes I suddenly felt the cold and I was so sad and hopeless. Perhaps this was what made me take the two steps forward to him. Not touching him with my hand - though I longed to embrace him - I laid my forehead against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Albus …” I whispered.

I felt how he raised his hand and I didn’t dare to th. th. And then the hand was on my back and he bent his head. I felt his mouth in my hair and I wished I’d find the courage to look up to him and to kiss him. I’m almost sure: He wouldn’t have backed away. But I wasn’t brave enough. I only stood there, feeling him so close and though so far and I smelt his unique fragrance and I only wished I could show him how much I love him. But then I heard his voice, hoarse and indefinite sad: “Im som sorry too. And I wish I could turn back the time.” He kissed me on my forehead and stepped away. “Goodnight, Narcissa. And …” a little break, a little smile, “… thank you for Raven.&1; C1; Changing in his bird form, he took flight and disappeared into the dark.

He wishes he could turn back the time. I don’t wish for so much. I’d settle happily for only getting a chance to make this time our time.



Letter from Minerva McGonagall
To Augustus McGonagall
Hogwarts, November 10, 2004


Augustus,

You can’t be serious! You must have had too much of Alastor’s fire whiskey as you wrote your last letter.

Narcissa Malfoy as our DADA teacher! What an absolute mad idea! Only Alastor could come to something as unthinkable as that and that you second him - I can’t bve ive it! I know you’d always have a weak spot for her - all men probably have when it comes to a woman looking like her. But you should nevertheless know better. Did you forget that she “forgot” to tell you about her condition before the trial? She made you look like an utter fool and what she’d made Albus look like - I don’t want to go into details about that! And leaving him then, making him the laughing stock of all of England! I thought then she couldn’t have done something more reckless, more heartless, more egotistical, but I was wrong when I learned she sent him the baby like a postal package, not thinking for a single second that he’d never have changed a nappy before and that we were in the middle of a war with Albus having other things to worry about than the caprices of this woman.

I will never understand why he took her back. Raven lived happily without her and he was in any case better off without her too. Just look at him now! He obviously doesn’t get enough sleep, he doesn’t eat properly, and he probably can’t find a moment’s rest at home with having this woman around him.

No, Augustus, I won’t accept to get mor her her than I already have to bear. Narcissa Malfoy as our new DADA teacher - alone the idea is an outrage. You and Alastor must really have been drunk. What do you think our students’ parents would say to that? I mean despite the woman’s more then questionable moral standards - we all know she’s an adulteress and I don’t want to know how many men she had during the time she lived in the muggle world! - is she the former wife and the sister of murderers! And if not for your defence and Albus standing up to her I don’t think she’d have stayed out of Azkaban herself. She was into the dark arts - she even admitted she’d kept an untraceable wand. What do you think she did with it?

If I didn’t know Albus can fight “imperio” I’d become very nervous. I think its bad enough he can’t resist her in private - but as Hogwarts Headmaster he must learn to. She is not fit to teach children anwillwill rather resign than to stand by.

So I’d be very glad indeed if you wouldn’t bother me again with this ridiculous idea. Alastor shall send us a teacher as soon as possible. Albus has other things to do than teaching DADA.

My regards to Alastor.

Yours
Minerva


Letter from Alastor Moody
To Minerva McGonagall
November 12, 2004


Minerva,

Isn’t it amazing what malicious, biased, pigheaded old hags once very sweet girls can become? Reading your letter to your husband I’m once again glad I’ve never married myself. In contrast to St. Augustus with his endless patience I’d probably provided you with a lasting silencing charm years before.

But to answer this abysmal letter of yours:

1. I’ve seen Albus just the other day and you’re right: He looks a bit tired. But I didn’t doubt he has all his marbles still where they belong and so he’d be probably very grateful to you if you’d let him decide about his private life for himself. And if you want to do yourself a favour: Try for once to think about it, that Albus isn’t one of your students, but your superior. I always wondered how much he lets you boss him around. If you were my deputy I d had have shown you your place long before.

2. Did it ever occur to you that Albus is not a saint? That he made probably a few mistakes too? Narcissa Dumbledore - that’s her name in case you’ve forgotten! - is a damn brave woman who stood up against Lucius Malfoy, spying for our side and risking her life with it. And in naming her an “adulteress” you obviously oversee something: Albus was her partner in this “crime”. I really don’t think she’d raped him and I don’t think either that she seduced him in using tricks. He damn well knew what he did and so, if you think you must blame people for things which aren’t your, but their fucking business (in every sense of the word) then please be at least fair enough to blame all parties involved. And if you find the courage to do so in front of Albus, then just drop me a note before. I’d pay 50 galleons to get a ticket for this show!

3. Narcissa didn’t choice to be born as her father’s daughter. She didn’t choice to be the sister of Btrixtrix Lestrange and Tiberius Black. She didn’t choice to be sold - as a mere child! - To the Malfoys. But as she was old and strong enough to do her own choices, she did them well and right. So stop blaming her for things she is neither guilty of nor responsible for.

4. I’ll send another owl to Hogwarts today. I’ll tell Albus that he should make up his bloody mind soon. If he won’t hire Narcissa as his DADA teacher, Augustus and I’ll hire her for the academy. And don’t you dare trying to set Molly Weasley on me! You don’t want me to tell Arthur that you obviously can’t stand that Albus didn’t marry one of your boring spinster friends, but a beauty with wits and tits.

Yours (sincerely of course)
Alastor Moody



Letter from Draco Malfoy
To Narcissa and Albus Dumbledore
Paris, December 10, 2004


Dearest Mother,
Dear Papa,

Ginny pesters me since yesterday to send you “at last” an owl and as the obedient husband I am I’ll do so now, but with my dear wife looking over my shoulder and assisting me (meaning: If I’d write something she dislikes I get a puff. But for being nice I get a kiss).

I’ve got good and bad news to you. Let’s start with the bad part: We won’t manage to come to England for Christmas. As much as we’d love to and as much as Ginny tried to persuade me: I think it would be too much for her because - and now we’re coming to the big, wonderful news - you’re to become grandparents in summer. Ginny is pregnant - and I’m totally over the moon.

Yet this isn’t all: We’re to move in the next days because we’ve bought a house and no, not in Paris, but in … can’t you guess?

No? Well, then I’ll tell: Albus can address me as “dear colleague” now. I have not only got my degree as Transfiguration master, but - and if you’re not going to tell me that you’re bursting with pride IRl chl change you to frogs! - I’m to become the successor of Valliari at the Cagliostro University of Venice. And - as my new dean told me proudly - I succeed a long line of great wizards like Haeterlinck, Ellistri, Barnhart and “especially interesting to you, Mister Malfoy, because you come from the school which nicked him away from us, Albus Dumbledore who I unfortunately never have met myself. But perhaps he’ll come to your installation?”

Serious as I have to be as a professor I didn’t grin and I didn’t tell that I know this great wizard in his knickers (puff from Ginny now - and she doubts you wear knickers. Wicked woman! She always tells me how sexy she finds men who don’t wear something under their robes) but I hope of course very much, that I’m to show off not only new robes and my pretty wife by my installation, but my breath taking mother, my cute little sister and my imposing Papa too.

Which means concretely: Wouldn’t you like celebrating New Year with us in Venice? Ginny would love so much to hyou you as our first guests in the new house and she is already knee deep in recipes and “I have to shop a thousand things for the baby and it would be so great to do it with Narcissa” and I would of course love to have academic talks with Albus in front of the fire (yes, Albus - you may buy the wine! I wouldn’t dare to think I could do well enough for your elaborate taste) and Raven certainly would love to fall in the water here. So please: Tell me as soon as possible you’ll come. It would be our nicest Christmas gift and we promise we’ll be good kids for all next year to deserve it.

Kisses for Mummy and Raven
And a hug to you, Albus!
Yours - Draco

PS from Ginny: If we’ll get a boy, we’d like to name him Albus. Would that be okay with you Albus?


Journal of Narcissa Dumbledore
Hogwarts, December 12, 2004

Actually I should go in bed. I have three classes tomorrow and two horses to ride and a riding lesson for the fourth years and I actually would like to pick Raven up from Kindergarten and I’m tipsy. Wonderfully, happily tipsy. I’ve drunken champagne - only a glass - and got a kiss. I think it was the kiss which made me so light headed (and light hearted) because it came so unexpected and it was so cute and … no, Narcissa, get a grip on yourself! Dancing around in the bedchamber at midnight won’t do for some one who is a professor and soon to become a grandmother.

Only I don’t feel like a grandmother. I mean I’ll love to cuddle a grandchild and I’ll probably be the the proudest grandmother ever - but I nevertheless don’t feel like a grandmother. Grandmothers aren’t in love like teenagers, are they?

Besides: I don’t feel like a professor either. Every time a student calls me “Professor Dumbledore” I look around and expect to see Albus.

Albus … if Lucius Malfoy would know that his grandson - if Ginny’s baby is a son - will be named “Albus”, he’d probably start rotating in his grave at Azkaban. But I like it. As I was pregnant with Raven I thought first about a son named “Albus” too. But then - if Raven would have been a boy, I’d have named her “Julian Falco”. “Julian” because Iays ays found the name rr nir nice and “Falco” for his father’s animagnus form. To me this would have been enough connection to Albus. Naming the boy “Albus” - no, really not. It’s fine for Draco’s and Ginny’s child, it’s even kind of symbolic: An “Albus Malfoy” will make clear that the old house of Malfoy has changed. But “Albus Dumbledore junior” - the boy would probably have cursed me for it. Every child of Albus will find it hard to live up to the expectations people connect with the name “Dumbledore”. A young Albus would probably find it too hard.

Besides: I’ve got quite enough with loving one Albus. And just one hour ago he kissed me! And he didn’t because Raven pestered him. He did because he wanted it!

Yesterday in the evening he wasn’t at home. He had to attend a conference and he was in a hurry as he came up from his DADA lesson (I&7;m 7;m very glad he teaches the 6. and 7. years - I really couldn’t manage them too. But I’ll be even gladder next month when Auror Shacklebolt comes to take over from Albus. DADA is too important a subject to have in such a big school as Hogwarts only one teacher for it. Especially if this teacher is the mother of a demanding four year old too). But as I told him about Draco’s letter, I got an invitation to his bedroom (actually I wouldn’t have minded to get one to his bed - but perhaps we’ll come to that too in a little while?): “You can read it to me while I change and shave, will you?”

I mean it wasn’t the first time I was in his bedroom since I’m back. With Raven who likes to sleep in her father’s arms (I can’t blame her - I’d like to sleep there too. We could even share him: She could get his left and me his right side. Or the other way round. I wouldn’t be peculiar about that) and running in and out of his chamber it’s hardly to avoid coming there sometimes. But I was never there without her - I mean, since I’m back.

And I haven’t seen Albus naked since I’m back. He probably didn’t intend to show himself to me without any clothes yesterday - but he forgot to close the door to his bathroom and there’s a mirror …

I must say I didn’t like much what I saw. I mean, I still find him the most attrae mae man I know and he’s still the only one I desire and so of course I liked what I saw. And his butt is still - my, my, I’m glad he always hides it under his robe. I don’t think I could ever concentrate around him if he would wear trousers. And even with McGonagall not looking at me anymore as if she’d expect me to seduce or to hex every male being - I don’t think she’d like me slobbering over my husband’s rather sexy backside during every staff conference. She’s got enough already with our new politic professor Hermione Granger-Snape who likes to fondle her husband’s knees if she thinks no one would notice. Yet I always notice because Severus always blushes then.

Back to my husband’s body: He’s too thin. I remember well what a strong man he was - and I found always that the belly suited him quite well. Now his stomach is as flat as a plank and the hip bones are very sharp and one could count his ribs.

But what shocked me most was the scar. I’m use with the scar on his jaw now and I knew he was badly injured during the final battle and I knew he wouldn’t have survived if Draco and Severus hadn’t found him at the moment they did. But to hear about and to see the scar - starting on his ribcage, running down the side and then over his left tight - with one own eyes makes a difference. I felt a sting of the pain he must have suffered through and I suddenly saw him lying on the field, bleeding - and to think that his head was injured too! And I wasn’t there to hold his hand and to wash his wounds.

As he shaved - once a day he does it the muggle way with using foam and a razor - he stood very erect, just so in front of the mirror that I could see … yes, I saw his private parts. And I remembered how they look when he’s aroused and that I sometimes teased him about overdoing modesty in this department because his soft penis is rather small - even smaller than Lucius’ and Lucius really was very poor equipped. But in the contrast to Lucius who was in every condition looking as if he’d been hit by a lasting shrinking charm, Albus … huuh! Just to think of it … better I stop thinking of it.

He was very happy about the news from Draco and Ginny - and so proud! I think Draco really is like a son for him and of course we’ll go to his installation and Albus says he’ll buy the boy the poshest robe thinkable and he’ll present him as “if I had produced him myself”.

Smiling I said: “In a way you have, Albus. Without you he wouldn’t have become the man he is now.”

I got a smile while he slipped in a fresh robe. “He’s got a wonderful, loving mother too, if I may remind you …” Taking his outer robe, he sighed: “I’d love to celebrate this news, but I must be off. But what about tomorrow? I think we should open a bottle of champagne and drink for Professor Malfoy and his family.”

And so we did this night after we’d put Raven in bed. We haven’t told her yet that she’s to become an au she she’d probably tell all the school and we don’t know if Ginny and Draco would like that.

It was so wonderful bringing Raven in bed. It’s always my favourite time of the day because it makes me feel that we are a family. And Raven likes to be cuddled by both of us and that means Albus and I are on her bed, Albus mostly having her in his lap while I brush her hair. And then he must tell her a bedtime story and he does wonderfully and with so soft a voice she always falls asleep in his arm.

Tonight I tucked her in then and Albus stood next to me, smiling. As she was under her blanket, he marched to the door. I followed him on tiptoes, closing the door quietly. Normally he says then “Goodnight”, but this evening he went down the stairs. I thought he’d be perhaps busy and was a bit - nonsense, I was not just a bit, but very much - disappointed because I’d looked forward all day to the champagne or better said - because I was never very fond of champagne - to a little time with Albus. Sad I made my way upstairs to set down at my desk for grading homework.

Two minutes later I heard Albus entering. He obviously was a bit tired - I noticed that he was slightly limping and this he only does when he’s worn out. He came to my desk and looked over my shoulder to the third year essays I was just grading. By doing so he laughed and quoted the piece in front of me: “Becoming bitten by a werewolf isn’t nice”. He nodded. “That’s right, but an understatement.”

“Miss Leroy always tends to understate,” I told him. “Last week she tried to disarm her opponent in duel practise with ‘Wingardium leviosa’ won wondered that his wand didn’t move.”

“That’s almost as nice as Mister Heffner’s - Hufflepuff sixth year - attempt to change me into a frog during our practise.” Albus laughed.

“Let me guess - he succeeded?” I teased him.

“Of course. Who am I to discourage my students? I only refused to change in size,” Albus grinned. “His face was priceless as he found himself in front of a frog bigger than himself.”

“Poor child! Probably he̵gettgetting nightmares now.” I laughed.

“He’ll survive.” Albus put a bottle on the essay. “May I tempt you to give up on your students for this evening?”

“Only if it is not butterbeer.” I rose and went to the sofa in front of the firee.
e.

“You don’t like butterbeer? Even not when you could get it in the company of three nice young men?” Albus produced two glasses (sometimes he’s really a show maker. I know he’s a good transfiguration master - probably one of the best. But even he can conjure champagne flutes out of thin air without using his wand. I’m sure he had the glasses hidden in his sleeve!) and opened the bottle.

I shook my head. “There isn’t much going on in Hogwarts without you knowing about, is there?”

“Narcissa!” He suddenly looked like a boy with his twinkling eyes and the cheeky grin. “I’ve known mating hippogriffs which acted with more subtlety than those lads. Tdiscdiscussed inviting you to a butterbeer during my class with me standing behind them. And I’m afraid they found my grin rather smug.”

“Didn’t you feel insulted?” I asked - because I sometimes feel insulted for him when students show a crush on me so clearly.

“Why should I?” Albus poured champagne in the glasses and gave me one. “I think the boys show good taste in falling for you.”

“But I’m your wife! Trying to flirt with me under your nose I always find a bit disrespectful,” I said.

Albus shook his head. “I don’t think so. I rather like to think they know I’m not one of these old-fashioned pricks who think their wives are their possessions. You’re a person of your own - a beautiful person. So why shouldn’t men show you their admiration?” Raising his glass he twinkled at me. “To the loveliest grandmother I’ve ever seen!”

I rose my glass too. “To our grandchild!”

We drank and then I asked: “Would you like a boy to have your name?”

Albus sat down in the chair next to mine and crossing his long legs, answered: “I feel enormously flattered. It could make up for getting a boy first.”

“You don’t want a boy first?” I wondered. “I always thought all men …”

“I’m obviously not all men. I always wanted a daughter,” Albus said. “Girls are more fun - and having a daughter gives a man something he hardly could get elsewhere. For a few years he gets absolute, pure adoration. Besides …,” he drank another sip, “… it’s fascinating to discover parts of oneself in a female.”

“That’s what I always thought about having a son,” I said. “Draco’s got a few things from me …”

“A few things?” Albus smiled. “That’s even a bigger understatement than a werewolf’s bite being not nice. Draco is all you - he doesn’t only look like you, but he thinks and feels like you. I never saw Lucius in him.”

“But there’s something from Lucius in too too,” I said. “His ambition and his pride - and without you this could have lead him the wrong way.”

“Hmm.” Albus thought for a moment. “Aren’t you ambitious too? Head girl ogwargwarts, society queen, one of the best riders in the Cadre Noir. Your Colonel said you worked harder then anybody else. And I must say so too. Even Minerva admits that you work very hard. So I think you’re ambitious. You’re not satisfied with yourself as long as you haven’t given your very best.”

“Stop that, Albus! I’m going to blush!” I said and I really felt my cheeks starting to burn.

He smiled and rose his glass again: “Blushing becomes you!”

He’s still the most charming man I know. And his blue eyes … and his smile! His smile gets me every time. My heart starts beating harder and I feel this flutter in the stomach and then I want nothing more than to kiss him. Or to be kissed by him.

Tonight I became kissed by him. I know he probably only did it because he’d drunk most of the champagne? But I nevertheless enjoyed it and I don’t think he was so drunk he didn’t know what he did. And I still can feel his lips on mine.

He was so sweet! We talked about this and that - nothing special, nothing too important. But every now and then he flirted a bit and his eyes were twinkling and Merlin, I love this twinkle!

As the bottle was empty, he rose: “I have to go to bed - and so should you.”

“You’re right. Tomorrow will be a hard day. And I must grade a lot of essays.”

“You know you don’t have to do them always in only two or three days?” Albus looked at me over the rim of his spectacles. “Severus complains already that you’re spoiling the students.”

“His wife is even quicker than I!” I protested.

“Hermione is a special case - she always was.” He took his spectacles down and massaged the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger. “Thank your for the pleasant evening, Narcissa.” He smiled at me and without the glasses he looked once again younger and not the imposing headmaster, but my beloved.

“Thank you. I enjoyed it very much.” I’d have loved to tell that I’d even enjoy it more if he’d stay with me, but I knew this would only get me a refusal.

But then, to my surprise and delight, he laid his free hand on my shoulder. Looking down at me he said: “It’s really unbelievable …”

“What’s unbelievable, Albus?” I looked into his eyes and wished this moment would never end.

He chuckled. “You becoming a grandmother! You still look like a girl - a beautiful girl …”

“I didn’t know your eyesight is so bad without the glasses!” I teased him.

“I don’t think it is …” he said, his voice no more than a whisper. And then he bent down and kissed me - and not only shortly, but truly and really and in detail. Only I was so surprised I only stood there, not reacting. He’d probably have deepened the kiss if only I wouldn’t be so daft a cow and perhaps he’d even have used his tongue. So he broke the kiss - much too quick for my taste - and laughed: “If I’d have known sooner that kissing grandmothers feels so nice, I’d have made a habit out of it.”

I’d wish he’d start making a habit of it!

to be continued …