Much Ado about Nothing

Much Ado about Nothing


By: Max

[Disclaimer: see chapter 1]

Chapt0: T0: To propose or not to propose …


“You won’t do it!” Hermione said firmly, stepping away from Albus who’d just softly pulled her under the Christmas tree in the staff room.

Looking down on his beloved who’d crossed her arms over her chest, Albus asked, amused, “What won’t I do, Tesoro?”

“Propose under the Christmas Tree!” Hermione said. “You won’t do it.”

Albus grinned. “And why not, if I may ask?”

“Oh, Albus!” Hermione looked at him as if she doubted his intelligence. “Just imagine: In a few years our daughter will ask me how we became engaged. Then I’d have to tell her that you proposed under a Christmas tree. Would you like that? She’d certainly think it lacked originality!”

“Ah!” Albus looked down at her over the rims of his spectacles. “Too céd, éd, you think?”

“Yes!21; 21; Hermione stated firmly.

“Hmm,” Albus scratched behind his left ear, “considering the girl in question will be a daughter of mine, I could imagine she’d find it romantic.”

Hermione shook her head. “No. She’ll be mine too.”

“And you think that makes for her becoming as factual and demanding as her mother?” he asked.

“Factual?” Hermione wrinkled her forehead. “What du meu mean with that? You make it sound as if it were something bad.”

“No, I didn’t,” Albus disagreed determinedly. “But we’re a bit touchy today, aren’t we?”

“Demanding, factual and touchy? All at the same time?” Hermione sounded a bit sharp. “Perhaps you should make up your mind about criticising me, Albus. I actually like it better when it doesn’t sound as if you’d just nag at me because you don’t want to admit that I was right in criticising you.”

“I think it’s best I keep my mouth closed,” he sighed. “Whatever I say seems to be wrong today.”

“Are you suffering from PMS, Hermione?” Lucius had just come along with two glasses of fire whiskey. Giving one to Albus he raised the other. “Welcome to the club, Albus! Your days as bachelor are over - now you’ll get the first glimpses of marital life!”

Hermione’s eyes were blazing at him. “Really, Lucius,” she rebuked him. “You mustn’t support Albus in acting like a chauvinist! He’s quite capable on his own.”

Lucius grinned and laid a hand on Albus’ shoulder. “Next thing she’ll tell you is that you shouldn’t drink so much fire whiskey.”

“I will not!” Hermione sounded really angry now. “Albus ld eld enough to know himself what’s good for him. And he's the one who’ll get the hang over tomorrow. But,” she smiled sweetly at Lucius, “shouldn’t you look after your wife? I mean, she can’t have PMS being as pregnant as she is, so there’s no reason to avoid her.”

“Pregnancy is like a prolonged form of PMS. It makes the ladies touchy and overly sensitive for months,” Lucius stated dryly. “Sometimes I think our ancestors were cleverer than us. When they learned that their wives were pregnant, they made them stay in the women’s chambers and never set a foot out until the child was born.”

“And that's what you’d like to do?&#o?” Hermione shook her head. “Nice idea indeed. Let the men have all the fun and the women all the suffering. I think it’s quite enough that we have to bear with not only the pregnancy, but birth and breast feeding too.”
220;220;Lacking womb and breasts we can hardly take over,” Albus said. “So you can’t blame us for that.”

“But you can be blamed for treating your women as if they were victims of their hormones and not able to think clearly!” Hermione gave sharply back.

Albus und Lucius sighed. Both of them didn’t utter a word. Hermione looked at them, shook her head, then snortnorted and turned around, her robe swirling around her feet. Briskly she walked over to the fireplace where Ginny, Tonks and Minerva sat. Sinking down on the sofa next to Ginny Hermione rolled her eyes and only said, “Men!”

Three women sighed in unison. Looking over to the window where Albus, Augustus, Lucius and Severus had gathered, studying the contents of their glasses as if they’d expect to find Merlin’s lost time reversing spell in it, Minerva asked, “What did he do to you, Hermione?”

“You mean except of acting as insensitive as a ton of bricks all day?” Hermione gave back. “I think he just wanted to top it with proposing under the Christmas tree.”

“Yuck!” Ginny made a face. “How unoriginal!”

Hermione sighed. “I just don’t understand all this fuss about proposing. I know now he wants to marry me. He knows I’m willing to marry him - even if he drives me sometimes mad. So why can’t we simply have a talk about? Proposing under the Christmas tree - really! Do I look like the heroine out of a kitschy love novel?”

“Really!” Tonks didn’t seem to like the idea either. “I would have thought he’d be more creative.”

“It’s typical!” Minerva stated. “First they need months until they make their minds up. And then they act as if proposing were something to get over as quick as possible. I sometimes still wonder why I said ‘yes’ to Augustus. He asked me on the evening I told him I’d have got an offer from Hogwarts. You can’t imagine how romantic it R”

“Tell us!” Hermione begged her. “Perhaps I might feel better after hearing I’m not the only here who’s got herself a man who’s a real git sometimes.”

Minerva sighed. “All men are. And Augustus was especially so in his proposal. You must imagine: I was standing in the hall of my parents’ house, my younger sisters hanging around on the gallery and there my dear Augustus said, ‘Oh, by the way, Minerva, we should probably marry before you go to Hogwarts. I don’t think Albus is as prudish as Dippet was when it comes to unmarried teachers receiving visitors in their chambers, but nevertheless I believe we should avoid your future colleagues and students talking about us.' ”

“Oh my!” Hermione rolled her eyes again. “That’s really bad. But if I would have let Albus his way, he’d have proposed in the bathroom between shaving and brushing his hair.”

“At least he would have done it,” Ginny sighed. “You know Lucius didn’t. Albus asked him about his intentions towards me - and there we went. No proposal, no ring, no flowers - and tiss iss was rather chaste because Albus stood only a few steps away.”

“But don’t you think you’d he the two women with the most unromantic engagements here!” Tonks said. “Mine went like this, ‘Severus, I’m pregnant.’ Then, ‘Oh’ and silence for three minutes, except for the sound of his quill. He even didn’t look up from his grading! So I asked, ‘Are you shocked?’ Severus had the grace to look up at me before speaking, ‘Why should I be? I have known about the connection between intercourse and pregnancy for years.'221;221; Tonks managed a perfect imitation of her husband’s typical sneer.

“I think I’d have hexed him in that moment!” Hermione commented.

Tonks changed her hair colour from honey brown to blonde. “Oh my, Hermione - if I’d hex Severus every time he acts the bastard, he’d barely manage a single day unhexed. But the best thing about our engagement was that he said he would have to marry me because Albus would have his head if he didn’t. Nice, wasn’t it?”

“You’ve married him anyway,” Ginny giggled.

“What should I have done?” Tonks hair became as red as it always did when she felt awkward. “I was Albus’ ward - and really, he probably would have gone mad at Severus.”

“And you rather like him in one piece instead of only getting his head on a platter?” Hermione grinned. “That must be love!”

“You’re one to talk!” Ginny laughed. “You’d start a war if someone would dare to bend one of the headmaster’s hairs! You actually don’t need to marry him anymore, because you’re already following the first rule for Slytherin wives: ‘He may be a bastard, but he’s my bastard. So no one can nag at him except me.”

Hermione laid her arm around Ginny’s shoulder. “That’s not entirely true, Ginny. Minerva has permission to nag at Albus too.”

“By the way,” Minerva said, “he was whining about always being ranted at today. He asked if you and I couldn’t work out a schedule so that he wouldn’t get two dressing downs in one day.”

“Typical!” Hermione grumbled. “I hope you gave him a good piece of your mind.”

“Of course I did!” Minerva sounded almost insulted. “I told him we wouldn’t do it just for the fun of it or because we wouldn’t know how to entertain ourselves or because we’re just in the mood for it, but because his behaviour requires it. But you know yourself how he is …”

“Oh yes!” Hermione looked once again ove Alb Albus who was now talking quietly wLuciLucius. “He’s innocence personified and never understands why one can find him - as nice and sweet and charming as he is - maddening. Sometimes I really could hit him! Today he was so extremely getting on my nerves! He left a mess back in the bathroom - everything lay around on the floor, wet towels and his robe from the day before and his shoes and even a magazine. In the bedroom, it looked like a hurricane had been through and#821#8217;d even left an unwrapped ice drop in one of my books! But the best was, he ran around like a chicken without its head, searching for his glasses. When I suggested to him that he should accio them, he said he wouldn’t dare because they were probably under papers that would get jumbled when the glasses flew out from under them.”

“As if his papers could become messier than they usually are!” Minerva patted Hermione’s arm sympathetically. “Albus can really drive one mad.”

“All men can,” Tonks stated philosophically. Stroking her slightly swollen belly, she added, “I wonder how it is with sons.”

Ginny laid her hand against her belly too. Determined she said, “Don’t worry, Tonks. If we’re got get boys, they won’t become like their fathers. We will raise them. That will make the difference.”

“Girls,” Poppy Pomfrey-Moody greeted by coming to the table. She sat down next to Minerva and smiled all around. “If I didn’t know better I’d say I’ve just joined the self-help group for frustrated wives. What’s up with you and your men? Do you want to get rid off them?”

Four women answered in a perfect chorus: “No!”

Then Tonks said, “Mine is wonderful actually, only sometimes …”

Ginny stated, “I love my Lucius to pieces, but …”

Minerva joined with, “Augustus is a wonderful husband, only …”

Hermione sighed. “I really wouldn’t want to live without my Albus though he makes me climb walls on a regular basis.”

Poppy laughed. “Darlings, for one thing I’m sure, a perfect man is something as rare as a unicorn with red and green polka dots. We have to bear with them as they are and the sooner we learn to tolerate their short comings, the better for us.”

Hermione leaned back and crossed legs. “I can’t help myself. Sometimes I think it’s ablemblem with the chromosomes. You know we women have two ‘X’ while men have an ‘X’ and a ‘Y’. I saw an upsilon chromosome through a microscope once and believe me, it looked like an ‘X’ which had lost one of its little legs.”

“Poor little upsilon!” Ginny giggled.

“You’re not the only one who saw it like that,” Poppy said. “I read a book once about Y-chromosomes. The authors thought that the upsilon shape is indeed a mutation from the ‘X’, and not exactly an improvement for the individuals bearing it. Losing one leg of the ‘X’ destabilizes their genome. That could, so the authors wrote, be the reason why men are victims of genetic sicknesses more frequently.”

“Hmm …” Hermione nodded. “Take haemophilia for an example. A woman bearing one copy of the defective gene doesn’t become sick herself. But a man getting it is doomed to suffer from it.”

Ginny looked very amused. “You mean, being male is a kind ofth hth handicap?”

Minerva smiled. “Hermione, I think you should teach sexual education next year. Our female students should become aware of such facts …”

“And our males even more!” Tonks giggled. “Can you imagine the faces of our little Slytherin princes if they had to hear something like that?” #822#8220;Hmm!” Poppy seemed to like the idea. “I always tell Albus that he should get more exercise. So he could get it by catching howlers before they start. On the other hand,” she grinned at Hermione, “with you coming back soon, I think he’ll get enough sports.”

Hermione laughed. “Certainly! Considering how much I dislike the mess he’s always leaving in the bath room, and considering how much he dislikes to being lectured about it, he’ll jump out of the window for a fly over the roofs at least once a week .”


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


“Headmaster?” Lucius Malfoy entered Albus’ office. He was looking very official in his black teaching robes, with his silver hair bound back in a neat pony tail tied with a black velvet ribbon. “You’ve asked for me?”

“Yes, Lucius.” Albus sat behind his desk, wearing a burgundy and gold robe. He’d just finished writing a letter, now he rolled the parchment up and sealed it. “Take a seat, please, Lucius, and give me just a minute to send this letter away.” He tapped on a little globe on his desk. Only a few seconds later the door opened again and Albus’ secretary Isadora Cracklebell entered.

Looking at Lucius with dismay, she said, “I told Professor Malfoy that you were busy, Headmaster, but he didn̵wantwant to wait.”

Albus gave her the parchment. “I wanted to see Professor Malfoy. So there was no need for him to wait.” Breathing deeply he added: “Would you please send this letter to the ministry immediately? And then I’d like to be undisturbed during my conversation with Professor Malfoy.”

“For how long?” The secretary sounded as if she were going to sulk.

“For as long as it takes,” Albus said firmly.

“As you wish, sir!” Now Isadora Cracklebell was obviously sulking. Turning around, she left the office, even her back radiating that she felt offended.

As the door closed behind her, Albus sighed. “She’s good at her job, but a pain in the neck.” Rummaging in his drawer he found a bag with ice drops and offered it to Lucius.

Lucius, who’d sunk in one of the chairs opposite the desk, shook his head. “Thank you, but you know I’m not fond of sweets.”

“That makes it easier for you to keep in shape.” Albus popped a drop in his mouth and sucking at it, he said, “Minerva and I were working on the schedule for the next year.” He pointed to a huge chalk board which stood at one of the walls, a table with boxes full of green, red, blue and yellow notes in front of it. “It’s hell this year. Did you know, that we’ll have - for the first time since Hogwarts was founded - more than 1000 pupils?”

Lucius sounded bored as he answered, “That certainly will make some people demand the founding of a second wizard’s school in England again.”

Albus rolled his eyes. “And give me the chance to sing my ‘Hogwarts can handle that if we get enough money’ song once more.”

“You have enough practice with it,” Lucius said dryly.

“It’s in the standard repertoire for Hogwarts’ headmasters,” Albus sighed. “Sometimes I think the line ‘Should be able to hold the same speech twice a year without becoming bored to tears’ should become part of the job description.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Above or below the line: ‘Must like dancing in circles around a subject’?”

Albus sunk his chin for looking at the younger wizard over the rim of his spectacles. “I think that goes only for Slytherin headmasters,” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Lucius let his gaze rest on his superior’s burgundy and golden robe. “And here I thought you were in your Gryffindor mood today. Pity …”

“The Gryffindor colours are also the colours of Hogwarts,” Albus said a little sharper as he’d actually intended. Softening his line with a smile, he proceeded, “Would you like me in what you call my Gryffindor mood?”

“Considered that my wife expects me in Diagon Alley in an hour and that usual subterfuge between two Slytherins seems like a waste of time to me, yes,” Lucius said very clearly and firmly.

“Direct approach again, dear boy?” Albus once again looked over the rim of his spectacles. “Well then - foil or epée?”

“Epée,” Lucius answered promptly. “No dancing around anymore!” With a mock smile, he added, “En garde!”

The fencer’s command to go in position for the battle - Albus couldn’t resist answering it with the start command, “Allez!” And bending forward, he placed his first stroke, “We’ll get almost 100 first years next term.”

Lucius wrinkled his forehead. “I’m aware that I can’t have them in double classes anymore. There’re too many. But even with four classes of first years-- they only have four lessons a week-- I think I’ll manage. It will be hard work, but I can do it.”

Albus shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s simple arithmancy, doubling the number of first year classes would have you working all hours of the day, and the problem will only grow worse each year. You already teach 50 hours a week, plus grading and any other duties. That is completely unfair and unsustainable. It's time to bring in someone to help, while we still have a chance to train them up a bit. Besides we’re simply not able to build the entire plan around your subject. We have herbology and astronomy classes which have to be done at certain times. That means we need a second teacher.”

Lucius’ face was absolutely neutral. No muscle twitched in it as he said, “You are the headmaster. If you think you’ll need a second DADA teacher, you’ll have to hire one.”

Albus sighed. For a moment he studied the younger wizard’s face. “I’ve hoped I would have gained at least a little of your trust by now, Lucius,” he said then, sounding rather sad.

This time Lucius showed a reaction. He raised an eyebrow and showed something that could have been a smile if his eyes hadn’t been so grave. “Headmaster …” he started.

Albus promptly cringed.

Lucius saw it, but only breathed deeply. “I’m well aware about my position here. You don’t need emotional blackmail to get my acceptance to hire another DADA teacher. I won’t like working under a former auror or who ever you will engage very much, but such is life. Someone like me can't demand to have everything just as it suits his likings.” He sounded almost bored at the end.

Albus looked silently at him for almost an entire minute. He’d known that Lucius was still confronted on a daily basis with people being suspicious about him, and he was well aware that the younger wizard’s arrogance had always been the armour with which he tried to protect his vulnerable self. But in the last weeks he’d really hoped he’d gotten at least a little of Lucius’ trust. Realizing that Lucius still believed Albus would let him down, that hurt. And even more, Albus had to prevent himself from becoming angry with the wizard he’d always seena &#a “difficult child” and whom he’d always loved, although Lucius had never made it easy for him to do so.

Gripping the arms of his chair firmly, Albus breathed deeply. “I have never intended to hire a new DADA teacher-in-charge. I have one, you know? And I appreciate him very much, though I must admit I’d wish for our personal relationship to be less tense.”

Lucius crooked his head. “Admirable sentiment, Headmaster,” he snarled. “But even you can’t deny that it’s simply not possible to have me in charge when you hire a second DADA teacher. If he is good enough to suit the Hogwarts standards, he will certainly refuse to work with me as his superior.”

“Will he?” Albus stood up. Walking over to the fireplace he said with forced lightness, “One could think you enjoy your role as Lucius, the martyr. Perhaps it might be time you start again, don’t you think?”

“In denying fac#822#8221; Now it was Lucius who raised his voice. “You need someone who’s experienced with the dark arts. And you know as well as I do that the only people who can legally work with the dark arts are aurors. So your new DADA teacher will be an auror. You don’t actually think you’ll find someone who is willing to not only work with me, but to become my junior as well?” Now he rose up. Walking over to the fireplace he faced Albus. “I’m certainly not angry with you about needing a second DADA teacher. I can see the inevitability myself. But what I really dislike is being mollycoddled and manipulated by you again. Why can’t you try - at least for once - to deal with the facts as they are? I know you, Headmaster. You want me to offer to become the junior teacher. But you won’t get me to this point. I know I’m in no position to retire, I know that I will have to accept getting a superior, but I won’t make it easier for you by playing along and suggesting it myself. You will have to order me, Headmaster - as much as you dislike it.”

Albus turned around, his blue eyes blazing, his fist balled and his voice very firm. “You need to make it as difficult as possible, don’t you, Lucius? Always ready to think the worst, always convinced that I’m going to abuse you.”

“You don’t have to remind me that you’ve saved my life,”ius ius said quietly, but cold. “I’m well aware of it. And if you need to hear it once again: I’m grateful for all that you did for me.”

“It will hang over us for the rest of our days, won’t it?” Albus braced himself with both hands against the mantelpiece, his head bent down. “I really hoped you’d forgive and forget,” he said so quietly it was hardly to understand.

“How should I? You remind me on it on a daily basis.” Lucius’ voice was trembling too and he’d balled his hands to fists.

“Do I?” Albus sighed. “Well - I’m sorry.”

For a while both men were silent. Then Lucius said sadly: “So am I. But you will admit …,” his voice became firmer again, “… that you won’t find a DADA teacher who will work under me.”

“No.” Albus raised his head. “I won’t admit it because it’s not true. You seem to forget something, Lucius. Britain isn’t the only magical community. If I can’t find one here I can look all over Europe or even in America. I am sure I can find a highly qualified auror who never has heard your name in his life.”

For a few seconds Lucius looked at him as if he’d seen him for the very first time. Then he walked slowly back to his chair. Sitting down, he laid his hands in his lap, swallowed and asked, “Why?”

Albus turned too. Looking at Lucius he slowly asked, “You don’t have an idea?”

Lucius snorted. “I have a lot of ideas, but you would like none of them.”

“Yes, Lucius, I’m afraid so.” Albus came back to his desk, but didn’t sit down on the chair behind, but leaned against the corner of the front side. “You could be my son.”

“Me?” Lucius laughed ironically. “Your son -- a former death eater?”

Albus sunk his head. “I was once close to becoming a father. My first wife was pregnant and if she’d have had the child it would have been born around the time of your birth. It could have become a house mate of yours and perhaps even a friend …”

“And a death eater?” Lucius shook his head. “Highly unlikely. I’m the son of a dark wizard. I grew up with hearing lines like ‘There’s no good or bad magic. There’s only power and weakness.’ You would have taught your child other things.”

“I would have tried, Lucius. But who knows if I would have succeeded? Sons often go against their fathers,” Albus said. He marched around his desk and sat in his chair again. Laying his hands in his lap he looked at them.

Lucius fixed a point just over Albus’ shoulder. “Well, if we’re working up to our difficult history again - and even if you don’t like to hear it-- Needing to do so is one of your Gryffindor’ tendencies, Headmaster. But back to the favourite subject: Achilles Malfoy wasn’t my father. Not really. He was only my progenitor. I knew that already when I came to Hogwarts. You became something like a father.”

“And you fought me because I’ve disappointed you,” said Albus.

“No.” Lucius shook his head. “I sometimes found you foolish, but I knew you weren’t weak. I don’t think I ever underestimated you. I was even aware that thinking you had gotten soft would be Riddle’s downfall. I fought you …” for a moment Lucius became silent, searching for words. “I think it was sometimes very childish. I couldn’t stand your indifference. There was a point in our relationship where I felt as if I could not reach you anymore - neither in a positive nor in a negative way. You had given up on me and I couldn’t bear it. I craved your attention and because we were on different sides, I tried to hurt you.”

Slowly Albus raised his head. “I never gave up on you, Lucius. I was hurt and I was disappointed, but I never stopped caring about you.”

“You don’t expect me to tell you I’ve always cared for you too?” Lucius obviously tried to sound harsh, but didn’t succeed entirely.

“If you’d do, I’d probably call for Poppy,” Albus replied with a little smile.

For a few seconds Lucius studied silently Albus’ tired face. Then he fixed the point over his shoulder again. Sounding rather casually he said, “You know, I’m becoming a father again. And I’m still a bit afraid of it. I think I’d like to have the support of an elder man sometimes, someone who has some experience with children. And I would like our child to have someone like an honorary grandfather ….”

Albus was looking at Lucius again. “You can rely on me.” His voice sounded hoarse. “And I will rely on you when it comes to Hermione. I know you and Ginny will be there for her when I’m gone.”

Lucius directed his gaze back at Albus and how he was smiling too. “As Hermione’s honorary elder brother, I’d like to see her married first. Any chances?”

“Oh my …” Albus sighed. “This subject is starting to become a rather touchy one, you know?”

“Why?” Lucius asked. “Don’t you want to marry her?”

“Lucius, I’d love to! If it only depended on me, I’d get her to a binding tomorrow,” Albus said. “But it seems my lady expects a proper proposal.”

“And what’s so difficult about that?” Lucius demanded to know. “Buy her a nice ring …”

̶readready done,” Albus said. Fumbling in an inner pocket of his robe, he pulled a small box out, opened it and showed Lucius a platinum band with a tansanit, glittering in red and blue.

“Lovely,” Lucius said. “I’m sure she will like it. Now you’ve only to get yourself a nice bunch of flowers, kneel in front of her and ask …”

Albus sighed again. “If only it were this simple! She obviously wants something special - very romantic and original. But I can’t come up with a scenario she wouldn’t find cliché. You know, she’s rather demanding in such things.”

Lucius laughed. “That’s one of the disadvantages of being in love with an intelligent woman. The ‘take her to Paris, shower her with expensive gifts and she’ll fall on your feet’ routine doesn’t work with them.”

“Yes.” Albus popped a second lemon drop in his mouth. “I need a very special idea for a very special woman - but I actually was never any good at doing romantic things.”

“Neither was I,” Lucius said sympathetically. “I sometimes think men aren’t built for romance. They don’t need it. Be honest, couldn’t you live without moonshine strolls and candlelight dinners and all this stuff? I easily could. I love my wife very much and I want her to be happy, but I can’t help myself. Watching a good quidditch match is something I find more exciting than picking flowers on a spring meadow.”

Albus laughed. “I’ve always wondered why the ladies can’t handle their romantic tendencies together. It would be so much easier! They could have the perfect candlelight dinners with the music they like and they could pick flowers for each other - and I’m sure they’d do a better job of it than we do because they know more about what they like. And we could watch some quidditch without being disturbed by questions like ‘Darling, wouldn’t it be less dangerous if they wouldn’t let the bludgers out of the box?”

“Don’t tell me Hermione asked you that?” Lucius looked as if he would reconsider his affection for her.

“No, it wasn’t Hermione,” Albus smiled. “Hermione doesn’t even pretend an interest in quidditch. She only accompanied me to the last match because she wanted to show unity with me.”

“Our ever loyal Gryffindors …” Lucius smiled.

“She deserves something special.” Albus stood up and started to wander through his office again. “She seduced me once in a gondola …” he said thoughtfully. “I could propose in one. What you think about that, Lucius?”

Lucius shook his head. “No good, Albus. Venice and gondolas - make the gondoliere sing Italian love arias and you have the perfect kitsch. And in your case, you would probably have the woman laughing like mad.”

“You’re right,” Albus sighed. “She’d find it funny.”

“Perhaps …,” Lucius said slowly, “… there’s a special place for both of you? You know, I kissed Ginevra first in one of my vineyards. Since then she’s rather fond of the place.”

Albus popped another ice drop in his mouth. “I kissed Hermione for the first time at your wedding in the rose garden. But I don’t think she’s particularly fond of this memory. I behaved like an idiot afterwards.”

Lucius only raised his eyebrow and Albus, as an answer, both his hands. “I know, I know. If Hermione couldn’t bear me acting idiotically, I wouldn’t have to think about proposing because I wouldn’t stand a chance with her. Nevertheless, I don’t think the rose garden would do. I can hardly wait for the summer break and even my eccentricity doesn’t extend so far that I would want a horde of snickering, giggling and blushing students as witnesses.”

“They’re already shocked enough,” Lucius commented dryly. “I was asked by one of the Hufflepuffs if the stories in the papers were true and if this meant you were really having sex with Professor Granger.”

“And what did you answer?” Albus demanded to know.

“I told him that old people - around 30 years and older - never have sex. Even I wouldn’t do it anymore. Instead my wife and I would spend our nights with discussions about the meaning of life and the best way to knit warm woollen socks for the winter nights here.”

“Yes, yes.” Albus grinned. “That’s what I do with Hermione all the time too. Perhaps we should do it together once?”

“Albus!” Lucius pretended to be shocked. “Even in being a Slytherin, I’m not so advanced I’d do a foursome with my superior and someone I consider a sister!”

Albus laughed. “You’re right, of course. Ginevra is my god daughter. It would be something like incestuldnuldn’t it?”

Lucius’ grin became broader. “You know that someone told me a little while ago that you’re actually my father-in-law? With my wife being the most intelligent Weasley child and your close relationship to my mother-in-law and Ginevra being not so red headed as her brothers, but more auburn and with the shape of her eyes… And once, during the war, you disappeared for two weeks and it was said you’d been sick and Molly Weasley wasn’t seen at this time either …”

“Oh sweet Merlin!” Albus rolled his eyes. “But as ys, ys, there’s some fire behind the smoke. I really was sick during the war - and because it was infectious, I didn’t want to spread it around at Hogwarts. So I was at the headquarters where Molly looked after me. Yet Ginevra was already born at this time - and besides, I’d caught a rather severe case of salmonella.”

“Buah!” Lucius made a face. “I reckon even Molly couldn’t find you sexy then.”

“No, certainly not. Besides we had most of our communication through the closed door of the bathroom with me inside and her in front of it,” Albus said. “So I can assure you, your child doesn’t carry Dumbledore genes.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Lucius grinned. “You’re not only related to Ginevra, but to me too. And even more than to the Weasleys. As far as I know, Ginevra’s grandmother was a cousin of your father - so you’re once related to her. With me it’s twice …”

“I know your mother was a grand cousin of mine. But who’s the other Dumbledore in your pedigree? Farther back?” Albus asked.

“It wasn’t a Dumbledore,” Lucius explained. “Our other mutual relative was my grandmother Livinia Malfoy nee Houdini. She was your mother's cousin.”

Albus wrinkled his forehead, but didn’t say anything.

Yet Lucius seemed nevertheless to know what the elder wizard was thinking. “Yes, Albus,” he said. “Narcissa is twice related to too.too. She’s got a Dumbledore as a great-grandmother and a Houdini as a grandfather. And this Houdini was married to a Malfoy was what makes Narcissa as closely related as a cousin. I once made up Draco’s genealogical tree. At the generation where other people have 16 ancestors he’d only had eight. He was probably degenerated. The phenomenon is cd &#d ‘incest depression’. I read a lot about it by muggle scientists.”

Albus came around his desk again and sat down at Lucius’ side. “You don’t blame yourself for that too, do you? It was your father who wanted you to marry Narcissa.”

“I could have refused,” Lucius said quietly.

“Lucius …” Albus laid his hand on Lucius’ arm. “I think it’s time you move on. You made mistakes in your life, no doubt about that. But you can’t change them anymore. You’ve got Ginevra’s and your new child’s future and your own future in your hand. I’m sure you’re not going to repeat the mistakes there.”

Lucius didn’t look at him. Instead he swallowed. “I’m afraid, Albus. One day our child will learn what kind of a man I was. It will ask me, and I don’t know what I’ll say. How shall I explain what I was and what I did?”

“Your child will love you. And it will know that humans make mistakes. You will tell it the truth and it will understand. I’m sure about that,” Albus said firmly.

Lucius smiled a bit lopsided. “Perhaps I’ll send the brat to you then …”

“Oh yes. And afterward it will leave me and tell its friends, ‘Ugh - the old crackpot was talking about this boring war again. It’s ages since then and no one is interested in these old stories anymore …”

Lucius’ smile was more genuine now. “I’m afraid we’re already there. Some of the second year Ravenclaws told me a few days ago that ‘old people’ - like their parents and me - always ramble about this war and that they find that rather boring.”

Albus chuckled. “Wasn’t that what we fought for? The next generation growing up without fear and without …”

He didn’t come to finish his line. With a golden flame Fawkes burst through the wall, hovered a moment over the desk and then landed, greeting Lucius and his master with a cheerful chirp. Waddling over to Albus - who always found it rather amusing how plump his phoenix looked when he was walking - he presented him his leg where a roll of parchment was atta.
.

“Hello, my unfaithful friend,” Albus patted Fawkes’ neck. “Are you playing postillion d’ amour?” Taking the parchment from Fawkes’ leg, he explained to Lucius, “It’s really time Hermione comes back. At the moment Fawkes is more often in Venice than with me. He has a perch in her lab because he spends so much time there.”

“Jealous?” Lucius asked amused.

“Yes, of course.” Albus grinned and enrolled the parchment. “She didn’t offer me a perch in her lab.”

“Probably she thinks that one odd bird is enough,” Lucius answered and stood up. “You know, Ginevra expects me at Diagon Alley. We’re going to buy some furniture for the kid’s room. You will excuse me?”

“Of course, Lucius.” Albus raised too, the parchment in his hand. “But tell Ginevra that the cot is supposed to be a gift from the proud honorary grandfather and the even prouder god mother. Hermione has been pestering me for days about going to a shop in Venice where she saw - I quote - the ‘loveliest cot imaginable’.”

“Then it will be just right for our child.” Lucius smiled and walked to the door. Standing there, he looked down on the tips of his black boots. “Albus …” he said quietly.

“Hmm?” Albus had walked around his desk and sat down in his chair.

“Thank you,” Lucius quietly said.

Albus bowed his head. “You’re welcome, dear boy.”

“Well, then …” Lucius sounded unusually awkward. “I have to run. Have a nice evening, Albus.”

“You too. And my regards to your wife!” Albus smiled after Lucius, then he opened the letter he’d just received.

It was short, only a few lines: “Just eating a chocolate frog, I found myself thinking about jumping at the wizard on the card. But actually I’d like getting the original in my bed this night even better. How do you think about my chances for that? H.”

Albus’ smile became broader. The note was typical Hermione. After they’d spent the Christmas break in each other pockets, she obviously found the new separation very hard. She wasn’t the only one. Albus saw days without her as lost days too. And nights without her were even harder.

So he picke a p a piece of parchment and scribbled on it: “Unfortunately, I have to dine with someone who wants to make a nice donation to the school. But curious as I am, I’ll come around afterwards to learn who the wizard you’d like to jump at is. I hope it isn’t Godric Gryffindor. Minerva would become so angry if I tried to challenge him for a duel. YourA.&#A.”

Fawkes had watched him impatiently and was now presenting his leg again. Albus tied to parchment to it, then he gave the phoenix a lemon drop. “You know, Fawkes, you’re luckier than me today. I’d rather spend my evening with Hermione than with these people.”

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


Actually Albus wasn’t bad at socializing with people. On the contrary, he was gregarious. He liked to meet new people, he was good at listening and also able to entertain. His humour had often helped him through boring evenings. Yet on this January night he found it exceptionally difficult to sit through a very detailed dinner at the posh wizard restaurant he’d been invited to by Hogwarts’ newest donors John and Svantje Taittinger. Although he hadn’t found his host boring or unpleasant - the muggleborn John who’d made a fortune by building wizards’ houses was nice and his wife, coming from Sweden, was friendly and pretty - Albus had been impatient and a bit angry witmselmself. Why hadn’t he asked Hermione to accompany him? He knew she wasn’t keen on social gatherings and she certainly would never become a society lady, but she belonged with him and he hated to be without her. Yet the habits of a lifetime were obviously difficult to change. Except for the three years he’d been married, he’d never been officially attached to someone, therefore he simply wasn’t used to asking a partner to accompany him.

He would have to learn it, he thought as he apparated onto the terrace of the Venetian flat. And it would be nice to have Hermione at his side and to share such evenings with her. Her charm and her wits, her devotion to Hogwarts, and her brilliance certainly would impress donors like the Taittingers. And he would be terribly proud of her.

On the terrace a little lantern was on. It was the only light. The flat was dark already. Albus didn’t need to look at his watch. He knew it was around midnight and igheighed quietly. Hermione had gone to bed and he could only hope she hadn’t been too disappointed by it. He’d really hoped he would be able to make it earlier, he hated that he’d kept her waiting, and he was a bit sad. She was probably sleeping now. He wouldn’t wake her, but quietly sneak in her bed. But that meant that he wouldn’t get a kiss and that he wouldn’t have a chance to talk with her. The next morning was a Wednesday and that meant that he had to be back in Hogwarts to teaching by eight thirty. Tomorrow night they couldn’t spend together either, Hermione was expected at a faculty meeting. And Friday didn’t look better, he had to show himself at a conference.

Entering the dark living room, he bent down and slipped out of his boots. He really didn’t want to wake her. He knew how hard she worked at the moment. She wanted to finish a project before she left Venice, therefore most days saw her in the lab for 12 or even 14 hours. So he let his socks and robes follow the shoes. Slightly freezing in the cold night air which came through the open French window, he sneaked into the dark bedroom. His eyes had adapted to the dark by now, so he could make out the small form on the right side of the bed. Hermione had wrapped herself tightly in her blanket as she always did, but her left arm was under the pillow and so her left shoulder was bare. Crawling under the blanket Albus turned to her and kissed the warm, smooth skin of her shoulder. Her prompt reaction surprised him. She obviously wasn’t asleep, because she turned around immediately. And before he could greet her, her lips were on his mouth. She was naked and now half over him, her breast pressed against his chest and her hand roaming down in his side and over his hip to his thigh. His body reacted at once. He felt how his nipples prickled and the blood flooded to his groin. And now she was nibbling at his bottom lip, while her hand glided over the muscle to the inner side of his thigh. He groaned and spread his legs, giving her access to the sensitive skin there.

In his position he could only knead her buttocks, but he knew that she liked it just so. And obviously she was already aroused. Her nipple was hard and poking at his chest. He considered for a second whether he should turn her on her back to playing with her breasts, but then her index finger had arrived between his legs. It crawled over his balls, up to his already heavy, half-erect member, stroking along the length before her hand closed around the base, the dexterous fingers just on the vein at the underside.

She knew exactly how to arouse him. Just opening and closing her hand around him made himk ank and moan. And now her mouth left his and glided down over his chest and belly. Her lips closed around the tip of his cock and she sucked at it while her hand went down again to his balls, kneading them tenderly.

It had only been three days since he’d last slept with her, but he felt as needy as after four weeks of abstinence.

Obviously he wasn’t the only one. Hermione let him go, but only for straddling him in one quick move. And then he felt her hand again. She’d taken his erection and guided it to her entrance and he felt that she was wet and ready.

“Hermione …” he heard himself moan. It cost effort to order his arms up, but he needed to touch her and his hands found her breasts and cupped them.

“Yes, Albus!” She’d already started to ride him, hard and wild, her head thrown back. “Albus - I missed you so. I need you. And now you’re there and … oh! Oh yes, yes …”

Her body was covered in sweat as was his. Nevertheless he needed her closer and so he pulled her down on his chest, searching her mouth for a long, passionate kiss. The new position with her braced on her elbows gave him more freedom to move his hips. She responded eagerly to his long, hard strokes, her body in perfect harmony with his. But then, she suddenly fell out of the rhythm and he felt how she became rigid. Her breathing stopped, her lips lay motionless on his, only her arms at his side trembled. He could feel the waves of her orgasm by the way she tightened around him and though he hadn’t wanted to come, he couldn’t hold back. His body took over, pushing him over the edge. He fell, whirling and spinning, aware of every cell of his body filled with warmth and joy and in the same time out of himself, far away from every conscious thought, wrapped in the brightness of pure love.

He knew he’d been out for a few seconds, but by coming back he didn’t feel the familiar dizziness, but her presence in his mind. It was like the touch of a butterfly’s wing and gone in the moment he’d become aware of it. But then she laughed, “Hey, mastermind, now you really overdid it.”

“Me?” He was still panting and his heard was hammering hard. “I didn’t do anything.”

She rolled to the side, packing her head on his shoulder. “Albus, you were in my mind! And as pleasant and as exciting as it was to feel it with you, doing legilemency during sex is showing off. You know you don’t have to prove to me on a regular basis that you’re the greatest wizard alive. I know that already.”

“Moment …” He needed effort to collect himself. “As flattering your trust in my abilities is,” he said then, “you’re overestimating me. I was so far away from conus tus thinking, I couldn’t have done legilimency even if you’d asked me to.”

Hermione braced herself on one elbow and looked down at him. “But you were there, Albus! I felt you! It really wasn’t my climax I was experiencing - it was yours and it was - huuh! I don’t wonder anymore why you pass out from it.”

Albus stretched lazily. “Probably I’ve had my wards down and you broke through,” he said.

“But how could I?” Hermione sounded very excited. “I didn’t have a wand, I didn’t cast a spell, I even didn’t think of entering your mind. It must have been you. You’re the stronger legilimens and you can do wandless magic.”

Albus pulled her in his arms. “Don’t underestimate yourself, my love. You’re a very strong witch. And you wanted to be close to me …”

Hermione was all the academic again. “Did you ever hear of something like that before? I thought I’ve read all about legilimency, but none of the books mentioned it can be done wandless and without focussing on it.”

“It’s probably not mentioned because joined legilimency works only with couples very close to each other,” Albus explained. “And even then it’s not something you can train and do on purpose.”

“You’ve experienced it before?” Hermione sounded a bit disappointed.

Albus kissed her forehead. “I never was closer to someone than I am to you, Tesoro. You are the only woman I have ever let into my mind. I knew about this phenomenon because my father - who was an excellent legilimens - told me about it. He said it happened for the first time with my mother the night she became pregnant with my older brother. Afterwards, it happened almost regularly when they made love. When I was born they had something like a steady connection to each other. They felt each other and only had to look in the other’s eye when they wanted to be close to each other.”

“How wonderful.” Hermione sighed contently and lay back in his arms. A moment she was quiet. Then she put her hand on her belly. “Albus?”

“Yes, Piccola?”

She giggled. “Did you just get me pregnant?”

“No, Darling. I don’t think so. As you know, I’ve cast a contraceptus charm on myself. As long as I don’t lift the charm, I’m not able to sire a child,” he answered.

“But perhaps your contraceptus charm has worn off?” Hermione asked. “Wouldn’t that be possible?”

Once again Albus shook his head. “Hardly, Hermione. The charm is well-developed and I don’t think I made a mistake while casting it. I might actually have a problem lifting it. It’s been over 50 years since I cast it, and obviously it has been working properly all this time. Probably I’ll need a fertility potion now …”

“Over 50 years?” Hermione looked at him. “It’s almost unbelievable that you never met a woman in this whole time that you wanted to have a child with. I have to pinch myself sometimes. It seems like a dream that from all the many, many women you loved during your life I should be the second one you want to have a child with. I’m a lucky cow, you know?”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t name you a ‘cow’, but I’m glad you feel lucky. Nevertheless, I have to correct you, I met many women in my life and - being rather inflammable as a young man - loved some of them. But I didn’t fall in love with many women. The list is rather short, Hermione, five women including you.”

Hermione wrinkled her forehead. “I know - including me - about three on this list: your wife, Professor de Santis-Valerio and me. Who were the other two?”

Albus laughed. “To quote Augustus: Do you know what young women and old judges have in common?”

“No,” Hermione answered.

“They always want confessions,” Albus grinned. “Am I to confess now?”

“Of course you are.” Hermione nudged his ribs. “You should have done so earlier! I want to know everything about my predecessors.”

“Oh my,” he sighed. “I’m afraid you’ll become rather disappointed. Both the ladies you don’t know about already make for rather short stories. Number one was Orsina Shacklebolt - you know her grandson, the auror Kingsley Shacklebolt. She was my first love.”

“And what became of you and her?” Hermione wanted to know.

“Not much. I was 18 and she was 38. She gave me a few lessons in making love, then she sent me away. I suffered for almost three years from what I thought was a broken heart. I got on every one’s nerves terribly by only wearing black and saying that I’d never love a woman again. Generally making an utter fool out of myself.”

Hermione stroked his cheek. “My poor darling. It certainly was hard for you. But who was number two?”

He stretched. “With her I behaved even more idiotically. She was a German - a far relative of Sebastian. I met her in Berlin during the war against Grindelwald. Her name was Nina. She wasn’t exactly a beauty, but she was brilliant and unbelievably brave. She worked in disguise in one of the Hitler ministries, spying for the resistance. I couldn’t stand it. I wanted her to go away from there.” He swallowed. The memory still hurt a bit. “I proposed, but with the condition she’d go to England and live in my house. She told me I was an egotistical idiot and we had a row. We made up, but three months later Grindelwald found her out and killed her.”

Hermione embraced him, stroking his hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It was long time ago, Darling.” He kept her close.

“But you have lost so many people you loved.” Hermione almost cried. “And as happy I am that I’ve got you, it makes me sad to think that you spent the majority of your life lonely.”

“No, Tesoro, I was rarely lonely. I have always had my friends and my students. And you know, during the war, I was sometimes glad that I had neither a wife nor a child. I wouldn’t have known how to find time for them. Probably I would have sent them away for safety's sake. I wouldn’t have been able to do my duty if I had been afraid for them. It was bad enough to fear for the members of the Order and for Harry, Ron and you. You can’t imagine how I felt during your first year when I learned that I’d been tricked away from Hogwarts and that the three of you - 11-year-old children in my care! - had gone to face Voldemort.”

Hermione nodded. “I’ll never forget how desperate I was because I couldn’t make it back through the trap door again. Harry had sent me to owl you and there was Ron, unconscious on Minerva’s chessboard, and I didn’t know what to do. And then suddenly, you were there. Heavens, Albus, you were scary! I was almost frightened to death. For a moment I even doubted it was really you, because you … I can’t describe it. But I suddenly knew why you was the only wizard Voldemort was ever afraid of.”

Albus nodded. “I remember too. For a while afterward you looked at me as if I’d suddenly grown a second head.”

“It was odd,” Hermione shuddered and but at the same time snuggled closer to him. “For a child it really was difficult. On the one hand I knew you as thadmaadmaster who always looked - forgive me the bluntness - slightly gaga to me. On the other hand, I’d seen the great wizard, radiating sheer power. To get these images together, to become used to the fact that you’re the teacher who likes to play through lessons and meals but at the same time the strong sorcerer, took some time.”

“But now you’re used to it?” He smiled.

Hermione stuck out her tongue. “Bah, Albus! Do I have another choice? Yet I still can’t say I like it when you make my food talk or cast funny charms on my clothes. Last week one of my poor students almost fainted as he saw my cloak flying after me through the hall, screaming loudly: ‘Don’t forget to take me! Or do you want to freeze your cute little butt off?”

Albus crooked his head. “You always forget your cloak and one day you’ll catch your death. I can’t have that.”

“And you can’t have me starving?” Hermione shook her head. “To quote Minerva - and of course in capitals, ‘ALBUS, YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE!’ The apple nagging at me was really too much. I tried to concentrate on my work and there was this apple, jumping out of my bag, rolling over the desk to me and ranting like Minerva on a bad day: ‘ You really should eat me now. It’s late and you need some vitamins. And no, a silencing charm wouldn’t work on me and feeding me to Fawkes would be cheating. Just remember that you promised to eat more regularly. You don’t want to become all skin and bones. You know there’s some one who likes your soft …’ That was the moment I caught the apple and bit into it. Peter and Celia were already laughing like mad. And with you one can never know what the apple would have said if I hadn’t stopped it.”

Albus grinned. “You weren’t curious?”

“Actually I was. But I thought it would be better not to hear the apple’s speech out in front of my colleagues. I suddenly remembered a certain litchi which had told me it was your favourite fruit because it reminded you of something silken, soft and wet. Even Peter, gay as he is, would have understood what you meant. Probably he’d have told you that he likes bananas better and would have asked you if you could perhaps provide him with one.”

“Uh!” Albus made a face. “I like litchis - especially the tiny ones - better. And at my age one really shouldn’t change one's preferences anymore. Besides I never really understood why I should want to borrow toys from other boys that I have myself. If I like to play with these toys, I can help myself, thank you very much.”

“Following the old saying ‘Masturbation is making love to some one you really care for’?” giggled Hermione.

“Huh! Where did you learn such sayings?” Albus asked, amused.

“In the girl’s dormitory in this noble school of yours, Headmaster.” Hermione yawned, bent down and pulled the blanket up again. “You would wonder what one can learn there.”

“I wouldn’t.” Albus wrapped himself in his blanket too. “I stopped wondering fifty years ago on the evening I marched into the dormitory of my fifth year Slytherin boys, prepared to do my duty as their head of house in explaining the facts of life to them. I started my speech with something like ‘Well, boys, I think I’d like to talk about sex with you.’ Five boys looked rather bored at me and then one of them opened his mouth, yawned and gave back: ‘Okay, Professor - what you want to know about?”


To be continued …