Chapter Three

3 June 1944

Minerva's preternatural calm was unnerving.

If Albus hadn't known better, he would have sworn he was more anxious than she was about what they were about to do.

She had arrived precisely one half-hour after he had left the Great Hall after dinner, and she had knocked as briskly as ever on his office door.

Her "Good evening, Professor" was as normal and businesslike as it had always been.

When he showed her into his quarters, she took in the crackling fire, the bottle of wine, and the dim lighting without comment.

"I thought a bit of wine wouldn't go amiss, "he said.

"That's very thoughtful, Professor, thank you," she replied.

"I think, Minerva, that just for this evening, I'd like you to call me by my given name."

"All right, Albus."

He poured the wine and handed her a glass. They raised no toast, neither one being certain of what they should be celebrating.

They sat in front of the fire, drinking the wine and chatting amiably about everything but the topic that was foremost in his mind.

When Minerva had finished her wine, Albus carefully took the glass from her hand and Banished it. He clasped her hands and remarked, "Your hands are like ice." Bringing them up to his face, he gently blew on them.

"Was that a charm?" she asked.

"Yes, a Warming Charm."

"You did that with just your breath?"

"Yes."

"You'll have to teach me that trick someday, Pro...Albus."

"If you like," he replied, still holding her hands in his. He drew her closer, wrapped his arms around her, and leant in to press his mouth to hers. It took a few moments before she began to respond to his kiss by moving her own lips along with his.

He drew his head back and asked, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes."

So he continued kissing her and eased her back until she was half-lying on the settee, beginning to stroke her cheek and neck as they kissed. Kissing her like this was pleasant enough, but he had the feeling that she was far away; her responses seemed more rote than anything else, and it disturbed him.

He harboured no illusions that she was aching with want of him, or that he was a lover to induce swoons in young women...or young men, for that matter...but he wanted to give her pleasure. If it turned out that Gerald Macnair was a dud in bed...or worse...Albus hoped that at least this time, she could experience the kind of delight that an attentive lover could bring. He wanted to show her what it could be like, and to perhaps help her to understand what kinds of things gave her pleasure, in the hope that she might be able to lead Macnair to provide it for her.

He moved his lips to her neck and placed a hand deliberately on her chest, just above the gentle swell of her bosom. He was encouraged when her hands gripped his shoulders a bit tighter, so he moved his hand to cup her breast and was rewarded with her slight intake of breath.

The first stirring of his arousal announced itself as he gently squeezed her breast and played his fingers over her nipple, now hardened under the thin cloth of her blouse. Her barely audible gasp...the first real sign of enjoyment she had given...made him want to explore what other kinds of touches might elicit another.

He played with her nipple for another minute, and when she brought her leg up to wrap around him, he allowed his body to press against hers for the first time. She didn't react, although he was certain she could feel his erection pressing into her thigh. He interrupted his ministrations to her neck and breasts to ask, "Shall we adjourn to the bedroom?"

He didn't want to rush, but he thought he should move things forward while he was still aroused. If he waited too long or thought too much about it, the evening was quite likely to end in disappointment for Minerva and embarrassment for him.

"Yes, let's," she said, sounding slightly out of breath, he was pleased to note.

When the bedroom door was closed behind them, he asked, "Have you ever seen a man, Minerva?"

"You mean naked? No. Not in the flesh," she answered. "I . . . I'd like to see you."

"Your wish is my command, my dear," he said as he began to unbutton his outer robe.

When he had removed his robes and undershorts, it took a few moments before Minerva allowed her gaze to wander south of his face. He saw her blink a few times, so he asked, "Would you prefer I cover up again?"

"No . . . it's just . . ." she dropped her head, and he was alarmed for a moment, until he realised the shaking of her shoulders was caused by laughter.

"Well, I must say, it's never garnered quite that response before."

She looked up, eyes tearing, and said, "Oh, no, Prof...Albus . . . it's not that . . . it's just . . . the oddness of all this."

He laughed a little too, then. "It is rather surreal, isn't it?"

"That's a good word for it." After a few moments, she said, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, and certainly not at you."

"It's quite all right, my dear. I'm glad we can find some humour in this." he said. "Seriously, though; would you prefer we forget about this? We can stop now and say no more about it, if you wish."

"No, I want to go through with it." She smiled and added, "And it looks as though you do, too," nodding at his erection.

"I have no defence," he said, grinning back at her.

Turning serious, she said, "Will you kiss me again? I rather enjoyed that."

He stepped toward her and drew her into his arms, kissing her gently as she ran her hands up and down his now-bare back. It felt very good, and his cock gave an appreciative twitch when her fingers brushed over his arse.

Not too fast, man, he reminded himself as his arousal grew. The point is to give her pleasure.

He broke the kiss and asked, "May I undress you, Minerva?"

She nodded, and he set to work on the buttons of her blouse. When it and her skirt and shoes were gone, leaving her in her slip, he took her hand and led her to sit at the edge of his bed. Kneeling in front of her, he slid his hands up her leg to find the top of her stocking and ran his finger under the edge to release the charm that held it up. She gave a soft sigh and wriggled ever so slightly, as if to move her centre closer to his fingers. He smiled and began to roll the stocking slowly down her leg, covering each newly revealed inch of flesh with a kiss, ending with her great toe.

He repeated the procedure on the other side, and when he stood again, he noticed that she was flushed and breathing slightly harder than before.

"Stand up for a moment," he instructed. She did, and he kissed her again, this time sliding his hand from her waist to her breast, lingering there, kneading gently as he moved his lips from her mouth to kiss and suck at the side of her neck. When he had worked his way to her shoulder, he let his hands gather the skirt of the slip and begin to draw it upward. She raised her arms to allow him to pull it entirely off her, which he did, dropping it on the floor between them. He began to kiss her mouth again and brought one hand back up to play with a now-bare breast as the other twined around her back and pulled her close up against him, bringing her into direct contact with his hard cock for the first time.

He felt one of her hands slide tentatively around to his waist as she moved slightly backwards; then the hand moved between them to touch his penis with her fingertips. She broke the kiss to look at his face, asking, "Is this all right?"

"Mmm. More than all right, Minerva," he whispered as her hand closed more firmly around him. "More than all right."

She wasn't applying much pressure, but he thought he had better move things along if he wanted to last long enough to accomplish the evening's goal. It had been a very long time since anyone else had touched him there. He stilled her hand with his own and said, "Let's lie down."

She moved to the bed and reclined on it, knees demurely together and turned to one side. He sat beside where she lay and ran his hands down her torso, stopping at the waistband to her knickers. He asked, "Do you need me to cast a contraceptive charm?"

"No. I took a potion," she replied.

He nodded his approval, and then drew her knickers down and off. "I'd like to do some things now . . . to give you pleasure. Would that be all right?"

"Yes," came her quiet response.

He began to tease her thighs with his fingers as he bent his head to take a nipple in his mouth. As he licked and sucked, he felt her legs fall open slightly, and he moved his fingers to brush against the folds of her sex. She gasped, and he unbent his head to ask, "Is this all right?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Please . . . touch me . . ." she whispered and opened her legs wider in invitation.

He slid his fingers between her folds to find her clitoris. As he began to rub it, she started to moan softly. Very shortly, her moans became mewls of delight, and when he felt her thighs begin to tremble, he introduced an index finger into her opening, gently pressing it against the walls of her vagina. He felt her begin to pulse and spasm around his probing finger as she cried out her pleasure. When her orgasm had faded and her breathing slowed, he withdrew his fingers and moved his lips to light small kisses on her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and finally, her lips.

When she opened her eyes to look at him, she murmured, "I . . . um . . ."

He knew she was embarrassed, and he reassured her, saying, "I'm glad you enjoyed that, my dear."

"But you didn't . . . I mean, we didn't . . ."

"No. But there's plenty of time for that yet."

"I want to give you pleasure," she said. "I'd like you enjoy this, if you can . . ."

"I will. For the moment, though, it gives me pleasure to make you feel good. Which I'd like to continue, if you'll let me."

She gave him a shy smile, which he took as assent. He said, "Just lie back and let me take care of you, Minerva. If I do anything you don't like, just tell me and I'll stop."

She relaxed back into the pillow, and he continued to kiss her mouth, pleased at her now-enthusiastic response to his lips and tongue. After a minute or two, he broke the kiss and began to travel down her body, stopping to kiss and gently suck at key points along the way: the base of her throat, between and on each breast, her belly button, and finally, the inside of each thigh.

He slid his arms under her knees and drew her closer to him, allowing his warm breath to tease her sex. He pressed a feather-light kiss to her nether lips before parting them with his tongue. When it touched her clitoris, she gasped; he took it as a positive sign and began to lick and stroke it, turning her gasps to moans, and then to high-pitched cries. He moved one arm out from under her leg and slid a finger back into her, a little farther this time, adding a second one when she didn't seem to flinch or object in any other way to the intrusion.

He stopped licking her when her second orgasm took her, but he didn't withdraw his fingers, simply shifting his hand so that the heel of it pressed against her mound as she pulsed and shuddered.

He waited for her spasms to abate, taking the opportunity to stroke his semi-hard cock back to firm attention. The time had clearly come to do what she had originally asked of him. Withdrawing his fingers from her, he moved up to cover her body with his own, letting his cock settle between her legs.

Her eyes were open and clear, although she was still breathing heavily.

"I'm going to enter you now, if you're still sure that's what you want."

"Yes," she said.

He used a hand to guide his penis to her entrance and pushed in with a single smooth stroke. It was better that way, he had heard, than moving too slowly, although he had no idea if it was true. When she gave a slight cry, he chastised himself momentarily for not having asked one of his witch friends for advice. But then again, such an inquiry would have been met with a great deal of curiosity from anyone he knew well enough to ask.

After allowing her a moment to get used to him, he started to move, studying her face for any sign of discomfort. When she made a slight grimace, he stopped, asking, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, just . . . slowly, please," she whispered, so he slowed his strokes and began to kiss her jawline and neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and shortly, he began to feel very good indeed. After a few minutes, he had to concentrate solely on not driving into her too hard or too fast.

When he felt his orgasm coming on, he started to gasp and threw his head back in ecstasy. "Gods . . . oh, Minerva . . . so good . . . ohhhh," he moaned as he began to come. As he shuddered the final moments of his climax, he couldn't help bucking his hips into her spasmodically a few times.

When his euphoria faded, he kissed her lips briefly before rolling carefully off of her. He shifted so he was facing her and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"No. Well, a little . . . but it couldn't be helped. It wasn't nearly as terrible as some of the girls say," she replied. "Thank you."

"No thanks necessary, my dear Minerva. I just hope we've achieved what you hoped for."

"Oh, yes. That, and more. I didn't expect . . . what you did before."

"Did you enjoy it?" he enquired.

"Yes," she said with a laugh. "Couldn't you tell?"

"Well, I hoped," he said.

They lay there in silence for a while, and then she said, "I think I'd best be going before it gets too late and someone misses me."

It came as a relief to him that she was eager to leave. "Yes, you're probably right. Do you want to use my bath to freshen up?"

"Yes, please."

When she emerged ten minutes later and came into the sitting room where he was reading last week's Transfigurtion Today, he stood, and she said, "I cannot thank you enough, Professor."

"There is no need to thank me, Minerva," he answered.

"I don't suppose you would want to repeat this tomorrow evening, or the next? I wouldn't mind a bit more experience before . . . well, before turning myself over to Gerald."

Oh, dear.

"No, Minerva, as tempting as it is, I don't think it would be wise. But if you will wait a moment, I will jot down a spell that you might find useful."

He went to his desk, took up a quill, and wrote a few lines on a piece of parchment, which he handed to Minerva.

"You'll see it's quite a simple charm, but you may wish to practice it before your wedding night, if you believe you will not be . . . anxious for intimate activity. It is helpful to be able to do it wandlessly and wordlessly."

Looking up from the parchment, Minerva said, "Thank you, Professor. This was . . . it was more enjoyable than I anticipated. You were very kind, and I appreciate it."

"Oh, Minerva. It is easy to be kind to you, and it was easy to make love to you. You are lovely and astonishing," he said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

"Thank you, sir," she said again, folding the parchment he had given her and putting it in the pocket of her cardigan. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, my dear. Sleep well."

Well, that had gone a bit better than he had anticipated. He had agreed to her proposal out of a genuine desire to help Minerva; he knew there were many who wouldn't believe that, but no one who knew him well could have accused him of having had sexual designs on the girl. He knew she had been manipulating him when she was trying to persuade him to agree...and one old manipulator should recognise another, he thought with a chuckle...but her reasoning had been sound enough.

Albus honestly didn't really recall Gerald Macnair very clearly, but if what he knew of the elder Macnairs was any indication, Minerva was right to be concerned about his behaviour in the bedroom. She had said she didn't believe he would deliberately hurt her, and Albus thought her judgment was probably sound, but then again, she didn't have much experience in the peculiarities of men's sexual proclivities.

And "peculiar" didn't begin to describe the Macnair men.

Albus had objected to putting Finn Macnair away without benefit of trial, but the nature of the man's crimes had made him heave a sigh of relief on behalf of Knockturn Alley's prostitutes when the lunatic had been shut away for good. And although it had been before Albus' time, the rumours he had heard of the late Kenneth Walden Macnair gave Albus a suspicion about where Finn had acquired the skills for his bloody hobby. He knew for a fact that the elder Macnair had been targeted for "removal" in late 1888 after the Muggle prime minister had called an almost unheard-of emergency meeting with his wizarding counterpart.

Moreover, the current Kenneth Macnair had once been called on the carpet by the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for his treatment of his house-elves...a thing that was notable for its rarity; usually everyone turned a conveniently blind eye to house-elf abuse, so Macnair's behaviour must have been especially impressive. Albus had discovered this when he made a quick investigation of Minerva's husband-to-be after reading of the betrothal. His queries had turned up nothing on Gerald Macnair himself, fortunately.

He didn't know if, or how much, Minerva knew of the Macnair family history, but he thought it was prudent of her in any case to want to deal with her virginity before Gerald Macnair got his hands on her. Even if he wasn't as perverted as his father, uncle, and grandfather, the young man was probably as inexperienced as Minerva, and it was highly unlikely his father had given him any advice on making a virgin more comfortable on her wedding night.

And their tryst had been more pleasant than he had expected. He had thought he might need the aid of a few discreet charms to accomplish their goal, but in the end, he had been aroused enough.

Will wonders never cease?

He wasn't worried that Minerva would tell anyone about what they had done, but he was concerned about fostering any romantic feelings in the girl...feelings he could not reciprocate and that would only make things harder for her once she was married. That, as much as anything else, was why he had demurred when she suggested a second go.

Still, all things considered, he was glad to have been able to help her, even if only in this small way.