Another Dark Star

Chapter 63

Minerva strode briskly through the halls, trying to bring her emotions under control. Passing the threshold of the castle, she morphed into her animagus form, revelling in the freedom of her lithe feline body; the speed, the grace, the wind in her fur. Cats do not cry, nor dwell on the past. They can still grieve however, and after her invigorating escapist run, she found herself where she had never expected her path to tread again, after so many years. The Hog’s Head.

Many years ago, when she had fallen out with Albus, she had come here for support from the one person who knew Albus as well a she did and would understand that he was not the perfectly infallible humanitarian the Wizarding world believed him to be. He had been surprised, and gruff, but had listened, and talked a great deal. Had allowed her to vent enough to return and compromise. Untransfiguring herself back into the upright and respectable, if utterly emotionally drained, Headmistress, she entered the small dingy tavern.

Aberforth was still the same, the pub was still the same. Even the damn goats seemed the same, although they could not possibly be the same flock from 20-odd years ago. He looked up with the same bright blue eyes his infuriating brother had, with a spark of surprise.

“Minnie?” he said gruffly.

“I thought I asked you not to call me that!” she complained half heartedly with a
small smile. “It’s not seemly of a witch of my age.”

“Pft, yeh’re in the prime of life, daft woman!” he dismissed good naturedly.
“What brings you here after so long? Something my stubborn fairy of a brother left in his office?”

“Abe!” she chided briefly. He would forever have that grudge, and no amount of nagging would change him. “I came because...well, I needed a friend.” She tailed off into a whisper, the treacherous tears threatening to build again.

“A friend? I haven’t seen you in years Minnie. Surely Poppy is a closer friend.” He griped, a little testily.

“Not like you Abe. I needed someone who understands. Someone who will listen.” She said in a haunted tone.

“Someone to hold yer hand again?” he asked, with a hint of understanding.
Minerva dissolved into tears again, shaking with her sobs as two large arms wrapped around her shoulders and her head rested against a familiar chest. For a long while she just stood there, seeking solace a she had not in years, simply allowing herself to be held like a small frightened girl. Too much. It had been too much for all involved. Too much had been lost. Too many had been lost. And it was down to her to rebuild so much. When her sobs subsided, she stepped away from him and attempted to compose herself, offering a weak smile. Aberforth fetched a, miraculously clean, pair of tumblers from below the counter and half a bottle of Old Ogden’s Special Reserve Highland Firewhiskey.

“Sit down lass and tell Abe what’s gotten you so low now.” He said kindly, offering her a decent measure of drink. She accepted it but instead of speaking, she turned toward the door and commanded, “Accio!”

Some minutes later, the wooden box flew in the open window.

“Read these.” Minerva said tonelessly, sipping her whisky again. Aberforth opened the box and scanned the pages. What he saw made him smile.

“Saucy lot this! I wonder that he didn’t smile more.” He commented with a wry grin.

“Aberforth William Gawain Herman Dumbledore!” she gasped in shock. “I had no idea there were letters of that manner in there!” her stern face flushed with embarrassment when she saw which passages her friend was reading. She had often scolded Severus for his relationship with his former student, but she had never really envisioned that side of their relationship.

“Oh go on woman! They were married weren’t they? Only natural, if they weren’t allowed to be together.” He replied, searching the pile.

“That’s not the point Abe, and you know it. Besides, these date back much further than that; to the year after she left, mere months after her graduation.” She replied, her mouth a tight line of disapproval again.

“He loved her for that long then?” Abe sighed, realising the source of Minerva’s sorrow.

“Yes.” She choked, tears welling once more. “He loved her truly and I punished him for it! He was on our side and I doubted him. And the woman who loved him and stood by him when the world wanted his blood is now alone with two small children and a house full of bittersweet memories.” Aberforth’s arms were around her once more before she realised it, and this time she returned the embrace, welcoming the whispery tickle of his beard as he murmured soothing platitudes in her ear; so like her dear friend Albus and yet so different, so much more.


As the days went by, Severus grew stronger as the potions he took did their work. His arms no longer hurt, and his voice was back to normal, but his back still gave him pain, and his legs needed exercise before they would carry him further than the bathroom and back. To even get that far, he had to use a cane; a plain barely carved stick. He had no intention of using anything fancy like that ponce Malfoy! Bloody snake headed cane indeed! Severus always thought it made him look like a pimp from some late ‘70s movie anyway.

Sadira was being difficult, he decided. He felt fine, apart from the pain, and he was used to pain. He just wanted to go down to his lab for a few minutes. Maybe half an hour. Couple of hours at most. But no, she had put her foot down like that old matron Pomfrey. Still, he shouldn’t complain. She had brought the children every day, and looked after him all those months on her own. Well, with Winky’s help, but no one to talk to really. And she brought him books up from the living room, to keep him occupied. Unbeknownst to her, he was using this time to research the phenomenon in which she had saved his life and given herself that streak. He found it most intriguing.

She brought up more books for him, to replace the dwindling stack by the bed. She was better rested now and had never looked more lovely to him. It had been a long time alone at the castle, and longer it must have seemed for her to tend him. Her hair was swept out of her face with a stick to hold it in place, which, as she came closer, turned out to be a pencil. She had been drawing with the children again. She wore a knee length dress she had bought in her maternity that billowed softly over her now slimmer body. Most beautiful to him, however was the smile she wore; comfortable, easy, genuine. It had been a long time since she had looked so happy and free.

“You’re looking much better today Love.” She said softly, placing the books down on the side of the bed.

“Well enough to take a walk perhaps?” he asked archly. She frowned briefly.

“I know you think I’m being fussy, but I don’t want you to overexert yourself and put your healing back further.” She said sadly. He pulled her nearer, sliding a hand under her breast and kissing below her ear teasingly.

“Which explains why you have taken my wand, sneaky wench!” he whispered huskily in her ear, crowing inwardly when he felt her melt against him.

“I know you too well Severus. You cannot be trusted to do as I ask.” She defended valiantly, even as she began to caress him in return. His hands fluttered under the hem of her skirt and skimmed over the soft skin of her thighs as he pulled her even closer, to lie with him.

“Give. Me. My. Wand!” he ordered, punctuating his words with little nips and kisses to her throat. Her hands were already under the pyjama top he wore, lovingly kneading the flesh beneath and encouraging his endeavours.

“Don’t want you...overexerting yourself.” She gasped, now rubbing herself against him wantonly. He smirked at how quickly she had come undone; so receptive to him as always. He tugged the pencil out of her hair, allowing the dark chocolate coils to tumble free.

“Where are the children?” he asked, before kissing her deeply.
“With Winky, watching Teletubbies!” she gasped when he released her. He had no idea what Teletubbies were, nor did he care. All he knew was the children were occupied and safe, and that was enough.

“Then allow me to prove just how capable I am of exerting myself!” he growled, pressing her beneath him, pushing her skirt over her hips while he plunged his tongue into her mouth, ravishing her.

She had missed this side of her husband; his passion, his love. Had longed for it many nights while he lay there beside her, warm yet unresponsive. Now he was in control again; hot and hard against her, making her forget there had ever been anything wrong with him as his skilled hands deftly relieved her of her rapidly-dampening underwear.

“Severus, I missed you!” she panted, tugging the shirt from his back. He stared deep into her forest eyes with a soft expression.

“I know.” He replied, tugging his sleep pants past his hips and sheathing himself fully within her, causing her to cry out in relief and pleasure. Too many nights she had woken unfulfilled, having dreamt of his hands on her flesh, his lips on hers. She was hotter than hell and wouldn’t last long, much to Severus’ relief. As utterly satisfying it was to be joined with his wife once more, his back was already beginning to complain at the vigorous activity and he was thankful that she didn’t notice how his arms shook with the effort of holding himself above her.
He changed position, leaning on his forearms instead of his hands, laying more of his weight on her, shifting deeper within her. Now he felt like he was home, now he felt whole again. Her soft curves accepting him, cushioning him, moulding to him. He was enveloped completely in her sweetness and it was better than any balm or potion she had foisted on him in the last week.
Tighter she clung to him, with her arms and her sex, squeezing him deliciously. He felt so loved and needed as she met him thrust for thrust, kiss for kiss. Here was a reason to live, to survive. The sensations she elicited were incredible. He felt that he would never be happier if he could bury himself in her wet heat, burrow inside her and remain there forever.

Sadie was overwhelmed by the rush of passion from her convalescent husband. She felt as though she had been missing something these long months, and now he was here, completing her. She needed him deeper, harder, more! Tighter she clung to him her fingers digging into his flesh as she rushed towards her orgasm, pulling him deeper within her as her walls contracted and her body exploded, barely conscious of him shuddering above her in his own ecstasy.

They lay together for long moments, kissing deeply and caressing each other tightly; grateful for the closeness and sharing their love. Severus leaned himself on one shoulder, tracing the line of her pert button nose and soft lips with a finger gently.

“Now can I have my wand back?” he asked with a wry smile. Sadira could not answer him. She collapsed in a fit of giggles, tears sneaking from her eyes.

Minerva spent a good deal of time at the Hogs Head as time went on. Sometimes to complain about Albus or the ministry, sometimes to share her grief as the memorial ceremonies and awards were given. Sometimes she just went for a drink in Aberforth’s company. True she was still good friends with Poppy, and they had their evenings in as usual, but there was something different about being with Aberforth. Usually he was too grumpy to want to spend time with others, Merlin knew that whole goat thing was mainly a ruse to keep people away, but he was patient with her. She had been so close to Albus that she had never had the chance to really get to know Aberforth, and as she did so now she realised she ought to have done so a long time ago.

Aberforth remembered the girl Minerva had been; bright, idealistic and fierce. A bonny highland lassie with such courage and fire, lovely ebony hair and sparkling green eyes. Of course she had been drawn to the elder Dumbledore brother with his clever speeches and his inventiveness. If Albus had been interested in girls at all, they would have been wed long ago, but she was content with his friendship.

As far as Aberforth was concerned, the girl was wasted on his useless brother, as the woman had been also. Steadfastly loyal as any Hufflepuff, she had stood by him through the years. But when Albus got too high and mighty, too far ahead of himself, Aberforth had been there to commiserate and comfort. He had seen the spark slowly leave her, as her youthful flower withered in the dusty halls of academia, and it had given him yet another reason to hate his selfish brother. But Albus was gone now and she missed him. So many were gone now and she grieved for them all. But by now, Aberforth had gotten very good at waiting. He would still be there when she called, every time.