The Comedy of Errors

The Comedy of Errors

Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

Chapter 12: The Silence of Happiness


“I still don’t like this idea much,” Minerva said energetically. “And now I have one more reason. We can’t do it before Christmas, and after the break the students are so close to their exams that they really shouldn’t be distracted by something like parents’ day.” Looking up from the papers in front of her, she found Albus’ gaze resting on her. For a moment she allowed herself to flirt back, once again marvelling at how easy it was for him to distract her. Formerly she’d always been the collected, concentrated one - but now one look from him could make her forget all about the world around her.

Unfortunately Filius Flitwick wasn’t distracted by flirting. Balancing on his pile of pillows he said, “You know I actually like this idea, Albus. But I also think Minerva’s right. We certainly won’t manage before the Christmas break, and afterwards the children really should work on their exams. I have a few OWL candidates who should actually start by reading their first year books again. So we should either postpone the parents’ day to the summer or to the following year.”

“I refuse to waste my time debating something that can only happen in spring at the earliest,” Severus Snape promptly growled. “Besides, I have other things to worry about. I’m almost out of stores again, and I can’t teach properly if I don’t have enough potion ingredients. It’s really a shame how short on money Minerva keeps me!”

Albus obviously found it hard to tear his eyes away from Minerva, but he managed and raised his hands. “Just a moment, Severus. Let’s finish the other subject first. Who wants to have a parents’ day after the winter break?”

“My inner eye tells me it would make it easier for the children to bear the stress of exams,” Divination teacher Sybil Trelawney’s misty voice sounded from the other end of the table.

Next to Minerva, Stella Sinistra snorted and whispered, “Inner eye - my foot! She’s after the guardian of the Dunstable kid and hopes she gets to show him her outer bitch at a parents’ day!”

Minerva bent to the dark-haired astronomy witch. “Isn’t Ignatius Pemperbroke the guardian of the boy?” she asked.

“Yes, he is. Your former admirer is now dating our esteemed colleague Sybil,” Stella Sinistra whispered back.

“That’s almost insulting!” Minerva shuddered. “What kind of taste does that man have?”

“Minerva, Stella,” Albus’ voice broke in. “I take it the both of you don’t want a parents’ day now?”

“Sorry, Albus - we were distracted.” Minerva smiled at him.

“No problem. We’ll table the subject to be discussed again after the exams. So, what’s our next point, except for Severus wanting more money?”

“He isn’t the only one who needs more money,” the DADA teacher said. “I’m actually out of funds as well and I urgently need new textbooks. You know, we’re still using the …”

Minerva leaned back. In countless staff conferences she’d learned something important about the money debate. Allowing her colleagues to talk at length and in detail about their wishes gave them the feeling of having been taken seriously. That made it easier for Albus to grant or refuse their requests or to give them only part of what they wished for.

Yet knowing that didn’t normally prevent Minerva from shuffling her feet and rolling her eyes when a colleague started whining. But today she didn’t mind. The last few days had been so busy she’d hardly found time to think about how her life had changed and she enjoyed having an opportunity now. Admittedly she’d rather be thinking about it in Albus’ arms. His shoulder was just the ideal place on which to lay her head for some nice musing. Yet in the three weeks since he’d been back at his desk - or more accurately, in the magical world because his desk didn’t get to see too much of him - he hadn’t had much time for quiet hours. During his absence - he’d been away for almost six weeks - a lot of appointments and meetings had been delayed and so he had to make up for it now, which meant that he was more in London than at Hogwarts.

She nevertheless couldn’t complain about not seeing him … or, more accurately, not feeling him. Last night he’d slipped into her bed - and yes, Albus still mostly slept in her chambers, although Fawkes and his chick, a rather demanding female which kept not only her father, but Albus and his secretary busy too, had moved into a cradle in front of the fireplace - around midnight with a big yawn and had almost fallen asleep while kissing her.

Yet the night before - Minerva smiled thinking of it. That morning he’d told her with a sigh that he would have to attend another official dinner at the Ministry. “You know how long these boring dinners are,” he said, stroking her back. “So I’ll be back late - probably too late to disturb you. That means I’ll have to sleep in my bed, missing you terribly.”

Minerva, sitting at her dressing table and putting her hair into its usual bun, had smiled up at him. “I’ll probably be late too, darling,” she answered. “Alastor is away too, so Poppy, Dee, Stella, Rolanda, and I have decided to enjoy a girl’s night out.”

“Uh-oh!” he laughed. “That means you’ll probably be even later than I. And you’ll freeze your endearing butt off walking up from the gates. I think you’ll need me then to warm it up again.”

“Well, I actually thought about wearing my woollen bloomers,” Minerva said dryly.

Albus had gone onto knees next to her. Stroking her thigh he announced, “There’s no bloomer woollen and thick enough to kill my passion for you, Minerva.” Rising, he kissed her. “Wouldn’t you like to find your bed already warmed when you come back?”

Kissing him back on the tip of his crooked nose, Minerva answered, “Of course I want you in my bed, Albus. In my bed, in my arms, in …”

“Your heart?” He looked into her eyes.

“You know you’re there - even if you always make me late for breakfast.” Putting the last hairpin firmly in its place, she stood up and looked at her watch. “In twenty two minutes I have to face a double class of seventh year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. I don’t think I can deal with them on an empty stomach.” She started to walk to the door, but Albus had taken her hand and stopped her.

“Don’t I get a kiss?”

“As far as I recall,” Minerva had already laid her arms around his neck, “you got a few before you let me out of bed.”

“Nevertheless I need one more. It must last all through a long day away from you.”

Running down to breakfast - without Albus because he’d gone to his tower to change his robes - she probably shocked a few students. They weren’t used to the severe Deputy Headmistress smiling so early in the morning. But Minerva, although she always tried to show herself as a professional, hadn’t managed to pry her thoughts away from the man she’d just kissed.

He loved her. Poppy had been right. Albus loved her. He probably still didn’t know himself, but by now she really didn’t care about that anymore. What counted, and what during the last several weeks had made her so happy that she sometimes felt like dancing through the castle, was what he gave her.

The first few days after his recovery it had been mostly passion - an almost desperate passion, as if he needed to claim her as entirely as possible to make himself believe that she was really and truly with him again. And as much as she enjoyed feeling so desired and as much as her body had responded to him – there were times when the intensity of his needs had almost frightened her. He’d been so sick, his body was still weak and he still needed a lot of rest. Whenever he climbed up the stairs from the hall to his tower he got out of breath and needed to brace himself against a wall. How could he be up to such vigorous love making? Yet he’d obviously needed it and, to be honest, he hadn’t been the only one. During the weeks without him Minerva felt as if she had lost a part of herself. Albus was what made her complete, and she’d needed to feel him close, to be assured that he belonged to her.

Once Albus was back at work, their lovemaking had calmed a bit. Even Albus with his strength and vitality couldn’t manage to get himself through a fourteen hour workday filled with important conferences, meetings, and talks, without getting tired. But he was never too drained for cuddling. On the contrary, Minerva had already teased him, asking if he normally slept with a teddy bear in his arms because he treated her like one, always holding her close and seeking her warmth. He’d laughed and pulled her closer, answering “No teddy bear - but I’ve always wanted to have a cat.”

Minerva really didn’t want to compare the two men she’d been with, but sometimes she couldn’t avoid it. Augustus had been a wonderful husband - understanding, caring, loyal, loving. She’d felt beloved by him, but - Augustus had been an always logical, intellectual Ravenclaw, even called “cold” by some people. Minerva had known that he wasn’t, but even though he’d been a patient and gentle lover - he wouldn’t have spent hours petting and cuddling her. Yet Albus did. Whenever they were alone together, he searched for her nearness and touch. When she was reading - and after the weeks she’d deputized for him she needed to read a lot to catch up with the newest developments in her field - he loved to put his head in her lap, scanning through a magazine or a book himself or simply dozing. And he loved to kiss her. When he was in the school, he sometimes even caught her between classes for a kiss and a cuddle. Minerva had once or twice scolded him for behaving “like one our students”, but in reality she always felt a rush of joy when he appeared and took her in his arms.

The evening with “the girls” - Minerva had felt a bit awkward as she walked down to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. She was aware that her colleagues probably knew or at least suspected that there was something going on between their Headmaster and Minerva. She wasn’t ashamed of the relationship - certainly not. Nevertheless she didn’t feel up to being teased about it, and the idea of a “girl’s talk” - no, absolutely not. With Poppy she liked and needed to talk, but the way Rolanda usually spoke about her affairs - Minerva had gotten used to her openness, but no, no, no - she’d rather have swallowed her tongue than to talk about her lover like that, and not only because this lover was her Headmaster and superior, but because she knew that it would feel like betraying him.

Perhaps Poppy had said something - to Minerva’s relief none of her friends talked about her and Albus. They cheerfully pulled their colleagues through their teeth, with Severus as usual getting the biggest share of ranting; they laughed and giggled together like school girls, they drank rather a lot of wine, and Minerva enjoyed the evening to the fullest.

Arriving at Hogwarts around midnight, she looked up at the Main tower. When she’d left, the flag had changed from Gryffindor burgundy to Slytherin green – Filius Flitwick had been away too, so Severus had been the only Head of House in residence. But now the white flag was up again, shining in the clear light of the moon. Minerva’s heart jumped in joy. Albus was back, waiting for her!

Three minutes later she entered her chambers. The living room was dark, but through the half open door of the bedroom she heard soft music - a warm basso and a piano. Minerva slipped out of her cloak and robe. On tiptoes she sneaked into her bathroom where the red, silken negligee she’d bought all those weeks ago in Diagon Alley waited for her. Until now she hadn’t had a chance to show it off, but now, after showering, casting a drying charm and brushing her hair she slipped into it.

Entering her bedroom she smiled. Albus had been so concentrated on the music he hadn’t heard her coming. Lying on his back, hands folded behind his head, he listened with closed eyes to the CD player he’d enchanted to work in Hogwarts.

Just as Minerva crawled under the blanket and into his arms, the music stopped for a moment. Albus opened his eyes, smiled at her and pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder.

“Albus,” she’d whispered.

“Hush!” He laid his index finger on her lips, for the music had started again. The piano was playing a soft, tender and almost sad melody.

Then came the singer’s voice, “Und morgen wird die Sonne wieder scheinen und auf dem Wege, den ich gehe, wird uns, die Gluecklichen, sie wieder einen …(1)”

Minerva’s German wasn’t good enough to understand all of the text, but Albus was quietly translating, his voice like a tender touch, “And tomorrow the sun will shine again, and on the path I will take, it will unite us again, we happy ones, upon this sun-breathing earth...” A little pause, then the singer and Albus proceeded, “And to the shore, the wide shore with blue waves, we will descend quietly and slowly; we will look mutely into each other\'s eyes and the silence of happiness will settle upon us.”

The music ended; Albus reached to the nightstand and switched the player off. He smiled at her, not speaking, only laying his mouth on her hair. For a moment Minerva closed her eyes, fighting back tears. Poppy had said words wouldn’t matter, but now, at this moment, they did. Making her listen to this song and translating it for her - that was Albus’ way of telling her that he loved her.

Bracing herself on her left arm, she looked at him, studying his face as if she were seeing it for the first time. His broad forehead with the deep wrinkles; the bushy, still auburn eyebrows; the beaming blue eyes; the big, crooked nose; the generous mouth - and now his lips were soft and pink and inviting. Was he handsome? Minerva wasn’t sure about that, but one thing she knew - to her he was beautiful and beloved. Bending down she kissed his forehead, her hand tenderly stroking his cheek.

“Albus,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

She kissed the tip of his nose. “Nothing. Only Albus. I like your name.” Her hand had wandered down over his neck to his chest. As usual, he didn’t wear a nightshirt to bed and Minerva liked that. She enjoyed feeling his skin when she snuggled up to him, and now she especially enjoyed letting her fingers glide over his breastbone, playing with the few hairs she found there.

“Minerva - my lioness,” He laid his arms around her, his hands stroking her back. “Your negligee feels nice,” he whispered, “but I think I like your skin even better.” A wave of his hand caused the silken fabric to fall in a pile in front of the bed. His mouth searched for hers. “Kiss me, Cat.”

Minerva willingly obeyed, stroking over his chest to his nipple. It reacted immediately to her touch, tightening and poking against her palm. Tipping against the little knob with her index finger made the muscle beneath tense, and Minerva smiled. She’d already known that his chest was extremely sensitive to her touch and she enjoyed the effect she was having on him. Breaking the kiss she shifted, licking a circle around his nipple with the tip of her tongue.

“Uuh …” Albus had moaned. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” he asked, his voice husky once again.

As he tried to reach for her breast, Minerva caught his hand. “You be quiet!” she ordered him. “It’s my turn now!”

“Ah - and what are you up to?” he asked.

Minerva kissed his chest, pulled the blanket down and laid her hand on his thigh. “I’m going to seduce you, Albus,” she announced.

“That won’t be too difficult,” he chuckled.

“You think you’d like that?” Minerva asked, her fingertips stroking along the inside of his thigh.

When they arrived at the velvet skin of his testicles, he moaned again. “I’m reasonably certain that I’m going to like that very much.”

Minerva turned her hand, using only the nail of her index finger to paint a line over his testicles up to his shaft. He wasn’t entirely hard, but thick and heavy. Bending down Minerva gripped it around the base and kissed the tip. As she started to tease it with her tongue she could feel the effect her ministrations were having. Albus swallowed; his hands gripped the sheet firmly, crumpling it between his fingers. And his penis grew, becoming harder and lifting up as if he were reaching for Minerva’s mouth. She didn’t open it - not yet. Instead she let her lips glide down a bit, just touching him and enjoying the contrast between the silkiness of the skin covering his tip and the velvet over the shaft.

Albus didn’t move, but his muscles had become tense, telling Minerva how hard he fought not to buck. She knew that he wanted her to take him in her mouth and suck on him. But he had to wait a bit longer. With Albus Minerva had discovered that she liked to play, and teasing him she found irresistible. And he obviously liked it too. Admittedly, two nights before her teasing and his dealing with it had lead to something Minerva would never have expected to enjoy in bed - laughter - so much that her belly had almost hurt and she’d complained, “Albus, you’re totally impossible! How can I sleep with you when I’m shaken by laughter?”

Albus had grinned. “Little Albus says he’d like that. The vibrations could be very interesting …”

Although she was now so familiar with him - it never failed to amaze Minerva how entirely at ease she felt with him. And more, how comfortable he obviously was with his body and his sexuality. He’d been born a Victorian, but around him Minerva sometimes felt as if she was the prude. And in a way she was. Her upbringing was the reason for that. Although witches had always had more freedom than Muggle women - the magical community was too small to afford the loss of the potential of its females by keeping them stuck with kitchen duties, children, and knitting socks - Minerva’s mother probably would have rather swallowed an entire family of toads than talk about sex with her daughters. Minerva had gotten her sexual education entirely at Hogwarts, first in medical terms from the Charms mistress of the time, and then in more detail from her dormitory mates who’d found a certain section in the library - the one which only opened up to students fifth year and older.

Yet her inborn curiosity about a male’s body had never been entirely satisfied - not even during her marriage. With Augustus she’d quickly learned not to ask too many questions. He had felt uncomfortable talking about sex and so Minerva had spared him.

Yet Albus didn’t have a problem asking or answering questions. And when Minerva had - cautiously because she hadn’t been sure how he’d react to so direct a question - wanted to know how he liked to be touched, he’d shown her, laying his hands over hers, directing her and explaining to her how the touches made him feel. And by doing so he’d once more proven that he didn’t need Legilimency to read her thoughts. Although she hadn’t uttered a single syllable about it, he’d known that she hadn’t felt entirely comfortable about getting a “how to handle little Albus” lesson.

He’d smiled at her, “Two things more, Minerva. First, showing you what usually arouses me most certainly doesn’t mean I want you to follow this pattern whenever we’re together. I like variety and I love to be surprised. Second, I’m certain you’ll discover something about me I didn’t know about. But if a man my age doesn’t know himself rather well, something’s wrong. I won’t pretend I’m an innocent who has spent all his life waiting for the right woman and the right moment. I’ve always thought it’s we who make the moments and partners right - and I still think so, finding that you’re perfectly right now.”

And he was right for her too. It felt right to take him in her mouth now, tenderly sucking at the tip while playing with his testicles at the same time. It had felt so right that Minerva had started to purr, licking and kissing and enjoying how his breathing became harder, how he trembled and moaned. Minerva had become so lost in her pleasure that she almost didn’t hear him calling her name. But then he pulled her up, pressing her against him for a moment before he whispered, “You’re too good at this, Minerva. But I don’t want to come yet. Not without you!” Rolling her onto her back, he kissed her, his hands playing with her breasts. “My turn - and now you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”

“Ah - you want to have all the fun for yourself?” Minerva had chuckled.

He just kissed the tip of her breast. Then he raised his head and grinned at her. “Of course. But you know I don’t need to touch you to please you.”

Minerva saw in his eyes that he had something in mind and she found the idea of it exiting. Nevertheless she couldn’t resist teasing him. “I know Slytherins think themselves sex gods, but a Gryffindor is something special. It takes some effort to please one.”

“I don’t know much about Gryffindors in general - in this area, I mean - but the Head of Gryffindor certainly is something very special. Henceforth she deserves very special treatment.” He took the pillow and put it behind Minerva’s back, then shifted down. “Spread your legs, dear,” he ordered her.

Minerva obeyed, not only curious about what he had in mind, but becoming more and more aroused. Yet there was a little voice in the back of her mind, which sounded suspiciously like Ignatius Pemperbroke, whispering, “Minerva! He’s a Slytherin! And they’re notorious for going too far! You can’t let him have his wicked way with you! You don’t know how kinky he could get!”

Looking down at the silver white head – he was laying between her legs, his hair resting on her belly - she ordered the voice to shut up. This Slytherin was hers and the one she’d trusted with her life on more than one occasion. She hadn’t a clue about what he had in mind, but about one thing she was sure - she was going to enjoy it.

She watched him, how he moved his hair back and furrowed his brows in concentration, his eyes half-closed and his mouth slightly moving, murmuring an incantation. Bracing himself on his elbows he held the palms of his hands over her breasts. He didn’t touch them, but she nevertheless felt his warmth. And then there was something more - a soft prickle which started at the base of the two peaks and went up to the erect, almost aching nipples.

“Albus!” Minerva gasped and would have jumped if the weight of his upper body hadn’t kept her in place. He’d used his magic on her and it felt incredible! Hundred of tiny fingers seemed to stroke and massage her, and tiny teeth nibbled at her and there suddenly was a line which connected her breasts to her centre, and warmth, arousal, pleasure and lust spread through it. Minerva heard someone pant and moan - was it really her voice, so husky and raw, yelling his name?

He shifted again, his hair the only part of him that touched her. It glided over her mound and fell over her thighs, and there was warmth and something that made the muscles around her entrance vibrate, and then something played around her almost oversensitive clitoris, not really touching it, but making her moan and cry at once. Using his magic on her felt wildly arousing and at the same time so intimate and tender, so gentle and loving that it reached not only her skin, but through it to her heart and soul.

“Albus!” There were tears on her cheek, but she didn’t mind. She felt as though she were surfing a wave of pleasure and joy. It raised her up, higher and higher and then she flew, weightless, yet at the same time connected to all the elements, aware of the spinning of the earth and the power the moon had over the water, and the magic around her.

“Albus,” she whispered and wrapped her arms and legs around him. She didn’t know when he’d entered her, but she needed him inside her, needed to feel the solid weight of his body and the taste of his sweat as she pressed her lips against his shoulder. His magic still crackled around her and, opening her eyes, she saw a blue glow with tiny golden lights in it dancing over his head. The beauty of it made her cry even more and then the wave came over her again, but this time she wasn’t alone in riding it. Albus was with her, so close he felt like a part of her.

“Minerva, Minerva - my Minerva!” Had he said it or only thought it? Minerva didn’t know. But she felt his muscles tense and his breathing stop. For a small eternity there was silence - the silence of happiness - around them before they reached their peak, losing themselves in the sheer joy of it.

“Minerva?” Stella Sinistra tugged at Minerva’s sleeve, smiling at her. “Dreaming with open eyes?”

Minerva blushed. She’d entirely forgotten that she was still in the staff conference. “Sorry,” she said. “I was just thinking …”

“Don’t tell!” Severus shuddered. “It’s enough that you were looking like the cat that got the canary.”

“Canary?” Filius Flitwick grinned. “I don’t think Minerva would bother with such a tiny bird.”

Minerva felt herself become even redder. With Filius Flitwick one could never know. He always looked like innocence personified, but rarely missed anything that was going on in the castle. Even Albus sometimes claimed that the tiny Charms master was better informed than he, so Minerva was pretty sure that if anyone knew how she and Albus had spent the last several nights, it was Filius.

But now Albus was coming to her rescue. Smiling at the Charms master, he said, “Minerva obviously isn’t much into birds - or how would I have survived this long? However, our subject was not Minerva, but once again sexual education.”

“Well,” Severus Snape snarled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “that’s a subject I always associate with our dear Minerva.”

Out of the corner of her eye Minerva saw Albus furrow his brows and open his mouth. But she was quicker. Smiling sweetly, she reached over the table and patted Severus’ arm, well aware that he hated to be touched like that. “Even for a difficult case like you, the assistance of one Gryffindor should be enough, Severus. I have full confidence in your future wife. She’ll teach you all you need to know.”

Severus looked as if he’d like to poison her, but the rest of the staff was laughing and Valeria Vector raised his thumbs: “1:0 for Gryffindor!”

“Well, as much as I enjoy your little banter - it won’t solve the problem of who’s going to sacrifice himself for these particular classes,” Albus said.

“How about the one who asked?” Valeria Vector grinned.

Albus shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Some of the children are clever. That means they’ll probably realize that my knowledge of the subject is more than theoretical – and that would certainly scare them out of their wits.”

“I don’t believe my charges would think you …” Dee Sprout said thoughtfully.

“Of course they would’t!” Severus sounded almost bored. “Albus was talking about clever children, not Hufflepuffs.”

“Perhaps we should make Severus teach the class,” Stella Sinistra suggested with a malicious smile. “The idea of him having sex will so traumatize the students that they’ll refrain from it altogether until they’re out of school. That would spare Albus having to cast deflating charms whenever he sees two students snogging.”

Albus grinned. “Dear Stella, I’m not such a spoilsport. I don’t cast deflating charms, but Contraceptus.”

“Even with Severus teaching the class you’d need to cast them,” Minerva stated. “He wouldn’t work on his Slytherins. They’re probably born knowing all about dramatic billowing robes, and so shockproof they can even stand the idea of Severus …” as a lady she didn’t finish the line.

“Being shockproof - is that what makes them able to marry Gryffindors?” Valeria Vector chuckled.

“That we do out of pity,” Severus’ eyes shot flashes at the Arithmancy mistress. “We save them from a fate worse than putting up with your field - marrying a Ravenclaw and being bored to death.”

This time it was Filius Flitwick who tried to lead his colleagues back to the subject. Smiling at the Herbology witch, he asked, “What about you, Dee?”

“Dee probably knows something about bees and flowers,” Severus promptly commented, “but I highly doubt that’s on the syllabus for this class.”

“Considering that Dee has four children, I imagine she knows something about the bees and flowers Severus should learn about before he marries,” Minerva giggled.

“You don’t want him to learn that, Minerva!” came from Stella Sinistra. “Or do you really want to teach Snapelings in a few years?”

Albus, who’d been listening to his colleagues with an amused grin, shook his head. “Now I remember why I longed for another staff conference during the time I was sick. I missed the cosiness of it. To feel surrounded by people who appreciate and love each other, who treat each other with gentleness and care …”

Filius Flitwick laughed. “We’re just like a big, happy family!”

“And you’re the proud daddy, aren’t you, Albus?” Stella Sinistra teased.

“And what have I done to deserve that?” Albus demanded to know.

“You refused to teach our dear students how they can avoid producing more dunderheads,” Severus answered, sounding amused too.

“You mean,” Albus looked around, “you’d stop bickering if I take over the class?”

Stella Sinistra laughed. “Look out! Our Slytherin Headmaster is blackmailing us again! He always tries to turn a situation to his advantage.”

“He wouldn’t be a Slytherin if he didn’t at least try,” Severus stated dryly.

Minerva tried to remain serious. “Let’s think about his offer, dears. I suppose we could give you one staff conference without picking at each other, Albus. Would that suffice? It probably means we would have to gag dear Severus, but he certainly would like that better than teaching the class himself.”

“If I could also have ear plugs, I’d probably even enjoy that staff conference,” Severus said.

“Well, then it’s settled. I teach the class and you will not bicker for an entire conference.” Albus looked down at the papers in front of him. “Oh, speaking of pleasurable events,” he pulled a card out of his folder and waved it. “We’ve received an invitation for the Christmas Ball at the Ministry.”

“We?” Valeria Vector raised an eyebrow. “Were you using the pluralis majestatis, Headmaster?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Albus answered cheerfully. “I meant ‘we’ like you and Minerva and Dee and Stella and Filius and …”

“… all other members of the staff.” Filius had taken the card and looked at it. “It’s addressed to the Headmaster and the teachers at Hogwarts.”

“I volunteer to stay at Hogwarts for that evening,” Severus offered immediately.

Albus looked at him and shook his head. “We’ll talk about that, Severus. But now I’d like to know who will go to the ball?”

From the other end of the table, where she sat with half-closed eyes, Sybil Trelawney spoke, “Usually I detest making myself common by going into a crowd. But sometimes one has to overcome one’s shyness. I feel I should do so for this opportunity. So I’ll be there, dear Albus.”

Minerva rolled her eyes. The Divination teacher had always gotten on her nerves, and one of the many reasons she disliked Sybil Trelawney was that she always tried to flirt with Albus.

Yet he was used to it. Smiling innocently he answered, “Wonderful, Sybil. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time. And I look forward to meeting you there.” Without giving her a chance to answer, he looked at the Arithmancy teacher. “What about you, Valeria?”

Valeria Vector shook his head. “So sorry, but the 15th is the birthday of my dear mother.”

“My, my - wasn’t your mother’s birthday your excuse for not showing up to the welcome feast too?” Severus asked. “Just out of curiosity, how many mothers do you have, Valeria?”

“Three,” the Arithmancy mistress answered cheerfully. “I’ve always thought that one can’t have enough mothers. So I got myself three - my biological one, the second wife of my father, and my dear mother-in-law.”

“That’s a lot of birthdays,” Albus grinned. Putting the card back in his folder, he said, “I’ll ask my secretary to send you a copy of this invitation. And I hope to see some of you at the ball. And with that nicety I’m done for today. Thank you for your time and patience! Have a nice evening, all of you.” He rose up and looked at Minerva. “Do you have a moment for me?”

“Of course.” Minerva put her papers in her bag, smiled at the rest and followed Albus out into the cloister. Smiling up at him she asked, “How can I help you, Headmaster?”

His eyes twinkled as he shot back, his tone as matter-of-fact as hers, “I have a personal problem I’d like to talk with you about, Professor McGonagall.”

“Oh? A personal problem? And you think I can help you with that, Headmaster?” Minerva asked as they entered the main corridor, which was rather crowded with students. The Hufflepuff Quidditch team and its fans were just coming back from training, the Beater covered in mud and the Chaser sporting a black eye. A few Slytherins who’d been on their way from the library to their common room laughed at them, but seeing the Headmaster and his Deputy they refrained from any comments, only bowing and greeting.

The stone gargoyle watching the entrance to Albus’ office opened immediately when he appeared in front of it. Albus let Minerva through onto the spiralling staircase, followed her and smiled. “Have I already told you today that you look lovely?”

“Well,” Minerva picked a lose hair from his shoulder. “You look rather handsome yourself, my dear.”

They were in front of his office now. Albus waved to Delenn March who was working at her desk. “Anything urgent?”

The secretary shook her head. “No - only I’ll need you later to sign a few letters.”

“I’ll come down for that. But now I’ll be having tea with Minerva in my living room,” Albus announced and opened the door to the stairs which led up to his private chambers.

Minerva had expected to be kissed as soon as they were alone, but Albus only looked at her seriously. Raising her hand, she stroked his cheek. “What’s bothering you, Albus?”

He led her into his living room, cosily warmed by the fire. Ringing for a house elf, he smiled a bit awkwardly at her. “Actually, I would like to ask you if you’d accompany me to the ball at the Ministry.”

Minerva studied his face, once again wondering about him. She’d expected to be asked, so why was he looking as if there would be a problem? Patiently and almost amused she asked, “And what holds you back?”

“Well,” he sat down in the chair next to her, folding his hands in his lap and looking down at them. “My reputation isn’t the finest,” he said slowly. “A woman appearing on my arm at a ball will be assumed to be my lover.”

“As far as I know, I am your lover,” Minerva said dryly. “And I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Minerva …” He searched for words. “I don’t care what people say about me. But I’d hate them to pull you through their teeth.”

Minerva felt like sighing. Why did this Slytherin always have to make things so complicated? Inwardly counting to ten and pleading for patience, she asked, “Do you intend to kiss me passionately in the middle of the dance floor?”

Now he’d at least gotten his twinkle back. “I’m sure that seeing you in dress robes will make me wish to, but I think I can restrain myself.”

“Then I don’t see a problem with us attending the ball together,” Minerva said. “I’m your Deputy and the ball at the Ministry is a rather formal event. People will probably think you’ve once again gotten yourself a married lover you can’t show the world, and therefore you’re attending with your boring Deputy.”

He obviously wasn’t happy with this answer. Once again he studied his folded hands. “Minerva, you’re certainly not boring. But please, don’t get me wrong! I’m very, very fond of you and having you close to me makes me proud. And I’m sure I’ll feel even prouder having you on my arm at this ball, but …”

Minerva rose. She once again remembered Poppy’s advice, “Even Albus Dumbledore isn’t able to talk with a tongue down his throat!” Laying her arms around his neck she sat down in his lap and stopped his further explanations by kissing him. And once again it worked - he pulled her closer, opened his lips and closed his eyes. Minerva snuggled closer to him and played with his hair, enjoying how perfectly they understood each other when they kissed. Talking, she found, was sometimes difficult. He still tended to stand in his own way and to complicate things between them unnecessarily. But kissing helped. Only now he broke the kiss and took his spectacles off, polishing them with his sleeve. “What became of the stern Professor McGonagall?” he asked, sounding a bit sheepish.

Taking the glasses out of his hand, she pulled her wand out, cast a cleaning charm, put the spectacles up on his nose again and answered, “She learned from her Headmaster - who’s actually a wise man as long as he himself isn’t concerned - that in the very difficult cases love, tenderness, and understanding works better than severity.”

“Does this mean you haven’t lost hope in me yet?” he smiled.

“That, my dear Albus,” Minerva kissed the tip of his nose, “is another thing I learned from you - never give up hope.”

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

“Professor McGonagall, you look stunning!” Hermione Granger approached the round table in a corner of the magnificent decorated hall of the Ministry where Minerva was sitting, watching the crowd around her.

Minerva smiled up at the girl and, pointing to the empty chair at her side, she said, “Thank you very much, Hermione. I was just thinking that you’re an endearing sight tonight. Would you like to sit down and keep me company?”

“With pleasure.” Hermione sat down, folding the skirt of her light blue robe over her knees. “Severus has just gone to get us something from the buffet.” She looked across the room to the fountain, where a lot of witches and wizards had gathered around long tables laden with food. “Considering how many people also had this idea, he’ll probably be awhile.”

“And he’ll meet a few colleagues there,” Minerva said. “The Headmaster and the Sprouts just went over there too.”

“And so has Professor Trelawney,” the young woman said, rolling her eyes. “I met her earlier, and she was telling me the news from her inner eye. How did it go?” She grinned. “Now I remember - I should stay away from the tuna salad because it will give me diarrhoea, but I’m to meet a dark-haired, dark-eyed man that I will fall in love with.”

“Well, that’s better than it would be the other way ‘round,” Minerva commented. “Just imagine your falling in love with the tuna salad!”

“It would look funny if I were to dance with a bowl of salad,” Hermione giggled.

“Yes. You better dance with the dark haired, dark eyed man - he won’t give you diarrhoea.” Minerva smiled. She’d given up taking the Divination professor seriously years before, but today she could at least find her amusing.

Hermione smiled back, but only for a moment. Then she became serious. Clearing her throat she bent to Minerva. “May I ask you a question, Prof …” Seeing Minerva raise her eyebrows, she smiled awkwardly and corrected herself, “Minerva. Do you know why the Headmaster insisted on Severus and my coming here?”

“Yes, my dear, I know.” Minerva laid her hand on the girl’s arm. “The Headmaster thinks it’s important for Severus to finally come out of his self-imposed exile in the dungeons. Albus wants Severus to be my eventual successor, and that means he will have to deal with people and become part of the community again.”

Hermione looked over to the buffet once again. Minerva followed her gaze, seeing Albus and Severus’ backs now. They towered over the crowd, Albus’ silver hair falling in a shimmering wave over his shoulders, clad in a magnificent burgundy-gold brocade robe. Severus wore the colours of his house - forest green velvet with tiny silver snakes embroidered on his high collar. His black hair, for once not greasy, but looking like silk, was neatly bound back in a ponytail held together by a black velvet ribbon.

Hermione smiled as she watched the two of them talking together. “I think we’ve got the two most attractive men at this ball, Minerva,” she said and blushed at the same moment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest …” She chewed on her bottom lip for a second, and then proceeded, “Although I think you and the Headmaster make a beautiful couple. Earlier, when you were coming down the stairs together - you looked truly regal! And you know, Severus is convinced that the Headmaster has a crush on you.”

Minerva couldn’t help smiling back. “I’m rather fond of the Headmaster too, Hermione.”

Right at this moment the object of her affection, carrying two plates and followed by the Potion master, approached the table. Setting the plates down, he leaned over to Hermione and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You look very lovely, Hermione. I hope Severus will allow me to dance with you once.” Smiling at Minerva he sat down. “What fascinating subject have we just interrupted?” he demanded to know.

“Professor McGonagall was just telling me that she’s fond of you, Headmaster,” Hermione proclaimed beaming.

“Hermione!” Severus had put his plates on the table and sat down too. “Didn’t I tell you that one doesn’t spike one’s former teacher’s drink with Veritaserum at a ball?”

“Why not? It could make for an interesting conversation,” Albus laughed. “I’ve always longed to learn a few of Minerva’s secrets.”

Minerva, just swallowing a piece of an olive, smiled at him. “I’d rather you didn’t. You’d probably be bored.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t,” Albus promptly disagreed, and the gaze he was providing her with made her glad that she was sitting because her knees had just become jelly once again.

She’d already thought that he looked breathtaking when she met him at the entrance of Hogwarts. He’d fully recuperated from his illness by now, he’d gained weight, and his face didn’t look gaunt anymore, but had filled in. Even the wrinkles on his cheeks didn’t seem so deep, and his eyes were brimming with joy and mischief. When he saw her, they had become even brighter. Taking her hand, he bent over it, kissing the inside of her wrist. “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes from you for a second tonight, because every man at the ball will try to steal you away.”

“Old flatterer!” she’d said dryly, but actually - she too liked her appearance this evening. When Poppy had pulled out the green velvet dress with the little silver stars at Madame Maulkin’s shop, Minerva had shaken her head at first. “It’s very beautiful, but I’m too old for something like this,” she said. Nevertheless she hadn’t been able to resist stroking the fine fabric.

Poppy rolled her eyes. “If I had a figure like yours, you wouldn’t get a chance to wear this dress because I’d defend it with teeth and claws. You’re certainly not too old to wear it!”

“But the cleavage,” Minerva had tugged at it, “is a bit deep, don’t you think?”

“Nonsense!” Poppy had pushed the dress into her arms and pointed to the changing room. “Just try it on!”

Stepping out in the dress two minutes later had caused Poppy to gasp, “Wow, Minerva! You’re going to knock a certain wizard out of his extravagant socks!”

Looking in the mirror, Minerva had fallen in love with the dress too. The skirt, embroidered with silver stars, was very wide which made her waist look almost fragile in contrast to the tight upper portion with the deep neckline. The sleeves were long, falling down almost to her knees, but they opened in a long slit and showed her arms.

Albus was already finished with his plate. Looking at Minerva, who’d only picked at her food - she never was very hungry in such situations - he rose and offered her his arm. “Considering how you look and how many dances I’ll have to give up in the line of duty this evening, I don’t think I’ll have many chances to hold you in my arms. So I’m going to seize the moment.” He led her to the dance floor and they were in luck - the band had just begun a waltz. Albus took Minerva’s right hand in his, laid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “With a dress like that you should waltz all the time,” he smiled down at her and led her in a vivid turn, holding her close.

Minerva had always loved dancing with Albus. Looking up at him she asked, “Do you remember our first waltz?”

“Oh yes - and how!” he laughed. “For the first minute you were so stiff I thought you’d swallowed a broomstick. And you looked as if you wanted to hex me.”

“I did want to,” Minerva confirmed. “You had taken me out of my husband’s arms and you were once again looking so terribly Slytherin - smug and arrogant and so convinced that every woman would love to dance with you. And then you pulled my hand to your chest …”

He did so again, laying his big hand tenderly over her small one. “And I couldn’t resist teasing you,” he took over. “You looked so lovely with your eyes sending flashes at me and your cheeks slightly pink.”

“But telling me that touching you wouldn’t make me immediately fall in love with you was naughty!” Minerva said.

Albus chuckled, led her through a series of swinging moves and said, “Well – telling me that you’d rather enter a nunnery than come close to me …”

“… obviously was a false appraisal,” Minerva finished his line.

“I’m glad you were wrong at least once.” Albus pulled her a bit closer. His mouth almost touched her ear as he whispered, “I’d like to show you how glad I am, but I’m afraid it will have to wait until we’re alone.”

Minerva didn’t answer. She’d just noticed that Ignatius Pemperbroke was dancing only a few steps away from her. Sybil Trelawney was in his arms, but although she talked to him, his attention wasn’t on her. Instead he watched Minerva and Albus, and the expression on his face left not much doubt about his disapproval of seeing them together.

Minerva looked away and back at Albus. He’d registered Pemperbroke too. “Now he’s back in his league,” he commented dryly. “With you he tried walking in shoes definitely a few sizes too large for him.”

“Ah - and you think they suit you?” Minerva couldn’t resist teasing him.

“At least I wouldn’t call you ‘Minnie, my goddess’,” he grinned.

“I know what I’d do with you if you tried,” Minerva giggled. “I’d hex you up into the Divination tower and directly into Sybil’s bed.”

“Which would give her the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of having her bed set on fire by me,” Albus answered. “She couldn’t say ‘my inner eye’ as quickly as I’d change and disappear.”

The music stopped. Albus let Minerva go and bowed. “Thank you for the dance. I hope you’ll reserve another waltz for me,” he said, offering her his arm and leading her back to the table.

“The last dance of this ball will be yours,” Minerva promised him. She actually would have liked to dance with him all evening, but she was well aware that neither of them was at the ball only for fun. Both of them represented Hogwarts, and that meant they had to foster good relations not only with the Ministry and the governors of the school, but with the society people too. Donations made up a not-insignificant portion of the Hogwarts funds, and getting them meant that Hogwarts’ Headmaster and his Deputy needed occasions like this to remind people of their obligations to the youth of the magical world.

Luckily, Minerva’s next partner turned out to be one she liked to dance with very much. Coming from the dance floor he approached her, smiling at Albus - still a bit awkward, but friendly. “Good evening, Headmaster.” Bowing to Minerva he said, “You look breathtaking, Professor McGonagall. May I have this dance?”

“I feel flattered, Mister Potter.” Minerva smiled at the young man and laid her fingertips on his arm. Walking back with him to the dance floor she said, “I’ve heard great news about you. Alastor Moody was telling me that you’re leaving the Auror’s department to take over as an attaché at our embassy in Paris. I’m certain you’ll find Paris most fascinating.”

Harry blushed a bit. Taking Minerva in his arms for a slow fox he looked over to where Ron Weasley was dancing with a pretty brunette. She smiled at Harry and waved her hand, which made him swallow. “Actually - it was I who asked for the change. I liked being an auror, but I don’t want to spend all my life chasing dark wizards. Besides I want to go to Paris for …” He blushed and started anew. “Ron and I were there last year for four weeks, doing security duty at the embassy. And there I met Lucia. She’s Italian actually, but at the moment she’s studying Transfiguration at the Sorbonne - I mean, when she isn’t here in London and dancing with my best friend.”

“Ah!” Minerva looked over at Ron and the girl. “A future colleague of mine? How nice. And she looks very lovely.”

“She’s so great!” Harry said, blushing even deeper. “And you know, she didn’t know me! Her father is now the Italian ambassador in Paris, but during the war he was with his family in Japan. Lucia attended school there and so she never heard about Voldemort or about me.”

Minerva knew how much the boy had always detested being recognized by the scar on his forehead and how difficult it had been for him to have girls chasing him because of his fame and wealth. “I can imagine how much you enjoy that,” she said warmly.

“It’s wonderful. But you know, Professor McGonagall, there’s more about her. Lucia is almost as clever as Hermione and she likes Quidditch too and she comes from a big family and wants to have a lot of children herself. I’ve always wanted a family of my own and with Lucia and her parents and her siblings and the children they’re already having, I already feel like a part of one.”

“I’m very happy for you, Harry,” Minerva squeezed his hand.

“I hope you’ll come to our wedding next year,” Harry smiled at her. “We want to marry as soon as Lucia is done with her doctorate.”

“I’m very much looking forward to your wedding, Harry. And I hope you’ll introduce me to your lovely fiancé.”

“Certainly. And while we’re at it, Ron is going to marry too. Yesterday he asked Paulina Settleby - you remember her? She was a Ravenclaw one year behind us - and she said ‘yes’.”

Minerva laughed. “It seems my Gryffindors have marriage fever. Three days ago I received an owl from your classmate, Dean Thomas. He’s to marry an Irish witch he met in Dublin. And right before that Molly Weasley told me that Neville Longbottom and Ginny are to marry too.”

“Yes - it seems to be spreading in Gryffindor.” Harry grinned. “You know, Fred and George Weasley are offering bets on who’s next. And you’re on their list too, Professor.”

“Me?” Minerva shook her head. “As the most unlikely case?”

“Considering how you look this evening and how some men are looking at you,” Harry smiled, “I wouldn’t risk my money on you not marrying, Professor McGonagall.”

Minerva didn’t get a chance to reply to that because the music ended. Harry was bowing - and he wasn’t the only one doing so. Next to him stood Ignatius Pemperbroke. “Mister Potter,” he greeted before he looked at Minerva with a forced smile. “Madam McGonagall,” he asked formally, “would you honour me with the next dance?”

Minerva didn’t like the idea of dancing with her former admirer, but refusing would have been too rude. So she inclined her head. “Well - if you insist, Mister Pemperbroke,” she answered and laid her fingertips on his arm. Smiling at Harry she said, “I look forward to meeting the future Mrs Potter, Harry.”

The music had started again - this time a foxtrot. Ignatius Pemperbroke led Minerva away from her former student, dancing very stiffly. But so did Minerva, carefully keeping her distance from him.

That didn’t prevent him from looking at her and saying, “I must admit I was amazed to see you here. Amazed and shocked about the man on whose arm you were attending.”

“Shocked?” Minerva raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think my choice of company should cause anyone to feel shocked. Albus Dumbledore is my superior and the Headmaster of Hogwarts …”

“… and he’s known as a notorious womanizer!” Pemperbroke interrupted her angrily. “It honours you that you always try to defend him, but you’re too far removed from up-to-date information at Hogwarts. So you probably don’t know about the scandalous scene your friend Dumbledore made only a few weeks ago with the former American ambassador right here in this hall. Dumbledore was practically snogging this Wilkes woman in public!”

Minerva’s eyes narrowed and her voice chilled. “Knowing my Headmaster and Madam Minister Angharad Wilkes,” she pronounced the title slowly and clearly, “I’d say Albus gave her a peck on the cheek as it is customary between old friends. Frankly I’m amazed and shocked at you, Ignatius Pemperbroke. Gossiping and vilifying people isn’t what I’d consider the behaviour of a gentlewizard!”

“You’re always on his side, Minerva, aren’t you? And from the way you danced with him earlier one could easily think you were his whore too!” Pemperbroke said heatedly.

Minerva stopped dancing. Stepping back, she looked at the bald-headed wizard, her eyes blazing fury. “With whom I choose to attend a ball or dance or share my bed certainly isn’t any concern of yours, Ignatius Pemperbroke!” she hissed. “And about one thing I’m absolutely certain – I would rather be what you call Albus Dumbledore’s ‘whore’ for the rest of my life than to be Madam Pemperbroke for even one day!”

“So it’s true!” Pemperbroke yelled. “You are his mistress! And for him you’ve let down a decent man like me! A man who loved you and who would have given you his name! Dumbledore will never do so. He’ll sleep with you, but he’ll never make an honourable woman out of you!”

Minerva felt like hexing him - right there, in the middle of the dance floor. But she didn’t. Instead she straightened and threw her shoulders back, stretching to her full, imposing height - and it was good she was wearing high heels so that she could tower over him. Her voice was dangerously quiet and calm as she said, “I don’t need a man to make anything out of me, Ignatius Pemperbroke. I am already something in my own right. And that you obviously cannot get this in that thick head of yours is the reason why I would never marry you!”

She wanted to turn around and go away, but there was something solid behind her. Then she felt two familiar, strong hands on her shoulders, squeezing briefly and consoling for a moment and heard Albus’ voice - the music had just stopped - almost amused, but very clear and firm, “You certainly are something in your own right, Minerva - something very special and wonderful. Nevertheless, Pemperbroke, you were wrong once more. If Minerva wants me, I’d like very much to be made an honourable man by her.”


To be continued …







(1) Lyrics: John Henry Mackay (1864-1933)
Music: Richard Strauss (1864-1949), “Morgen”, op. 47, No.4