CXXVI: Age Cannot Wither

CXXVI: Age Cannot Wither

Minerva leaned back, sipping her tea, and watched Albus as he drank his. He smiled at her.

"Am I that fascinating?" he asked.

Minerva blushed and said, "I had to keep trying not to look at you this evening at dinner. I was certain that if I did, I would not be able to tear my eyes from you, and everyone would know precisely how I feel about you."

Albus's eyes shone. "And how would that be, Minerva?" he asked in a warm tone.

Minerva's blush didn't fade, but she answered, "I love you, Albus, I love you and I desire you, and I want us to share the rest of our lives together, and I want to spend all of that time showing you just how very much I love you." She reached across the chessboard, took his hand, and held it between hers.

Albus smiled, gazing at her fondly. "I don't believe I will ever become accustomed to those words, no matter how often you say them."

Minerva picked up her teacup again, but still held his hand with her other one. "I would like to test that hypothesis of yours, then, by reminding you of it daily."

Albus's grin widened. "Please do, my dear. It might also assist in keeping doppelganger-Albus at bay."

"Do you require another treatment?" Minerva asked gravely, trying to keep from smiling.

"I leave that up to your professional assessment, and bow to your judgment," Albus said, his eyes twinkling.

Minerva set her cup down and stood up, stepping around the table. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth, tasting the tea and honey on his lips.

She pulled back and looked at him lovingly, then said, "I don't detect even the slightest hint of doppelganger-Albus's presence, but perhaps a more extensive examination and treatment is nonetheless warranted."

She bent and kissed Albus again, then she put a hand on his shoulder as one of his arms encircled her waist and he pulled her into his lap. Minerva caressed his face as she kissed him, teasing him slightly with her tongue. She slid further into his lap, and against her thigh, she could feel his penis as it grew larger. Minerva shifted slightly and trailed her hand from his shoulder down his chest to his sternum. She stopped herself, though, resting her palm flat against him then smoothing it over his chest and around his side. Breaking from the kiss, she took a deep breath then let it out slowly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I adore you, Albus. I absolutely adore you, you know," she said softly.

Albus's response came in the form of a kiss to her forehead, and Minerva could feel him relax as he kissed her forehead again then lay his cheek against it.

"Albus?" she said after a few minutes.

"Yes, my dear?" he answered, his voice low in her ear.

"You were speaking of the way things used to be, the way things were when you were younger . . . I was just wondering . . . if you don't mind, that is . . . I was wondering what it was like to court Dervilia, what she was like. You don't have to speak of it if you don't want to, of course," Minerva said. She hoped that Albus had enjoyed his courtship of Dervilia, and that remembering it might give him a reinforced sense of the absurdity of Valerianna's lies, regardless of the difference in his age then and now. In fact, he was likely an even better lover now than he was in his youth simply by virtue of his age and experience.

"No," Albus said very softly, "I don't mind . . . but it was a very long time ago. Not precisely fresh in my mind, you know."

Minerva nodded against him, but was quiet, waiting for him to continue.

"As I say, it was a different time, with somewhat different customs," Albus began. "Dervilia actually caught my eye second year, in Herbology. She was a Hufflepuff, you see, and we took Herbology with them, and I was partnered with her that year. That was the way the instructor always did it, pairing students from different Houses. Professor Campbell was from Nova Scotia originally and hadn't attended Hogwarts as a student, and I don't believe she fully approved of the House system here. Dervilia was very cute and very lively. She had a sweet Irish lilt, beautiful hair of red-gold, rosy cheeks, and freckles across her nose, which I found fascinating, for some reason peculiar to a twelve-year-old. So I had a bit of a crush on Dervilia even then. But, of course, having a crush on her meant that I went out of my way to pretend not to like her . . . until I was about, hmm, fifteen, I suppose. Then I managed to get one of her friends, another Hufflepuff, Bertrand Prince, to invite me along when they all took tea in Hogsmeade one Hogsmeade weekend. There used to be a tearoom that was approved for students to visit – visits were much more strictly regulated then than they later became – the Creamery Kneazle," Albus said, remembering with a smile. He chuckled. "I haven't thought of that little place in decades. When old Mrs Kirk died, though, her daughter and son-in-law closed it up. It was where the Quidditch shop is now.

"After that, I always managed to invite myself along to wherever she and her friends were going to be on Hogsmeade weekends. And when I learned that she was in the Gobstone Society – it was a 'society' then, not a club – I joined that, too. Finally, one weekend my sixth year, I invited her to go to the Creamery Kneazle with me, just the two of us. Of course, it wasn't as though we were alone. There was always a member of staff in any of the approved shops, and a few others who would patrol and make sure that there were no students in places that were unapproved. But to me – and to Dervilia – it seemed quite . . . quite a step." Albus smiled to himself, then continued. "I was pleased to be able to magnanimously tell her she could have whatever she liked, and when I paid, I ostentatiously paid with a Galleon and received a lot of change back, of course. Silly of me, really, but I wanted to impress her. It was the only Galleon I had, and it would have been just as easy to have paid with a couple of Sickles, but . . . I was young. And I didn't know how else to impress her."

Albus thought a moment. "So . . . that was how our courtship began, I suppose. It wasn't many weeks later that I told her that I intended to court her, if she would allow it. Dervilia laughed and said she did assume that was what I was doing. She laughed a lot, did Dervilia. And often at me, but never cruelly. She was good for me, I believe . . . though I was not very good for her." Albus sighed. "Anyway, you asked how I courted her. I bought her trinkets, and we took walks on the grounds, usually under the watchful eye of the staff. There were occasions when we . . . when we found more privacy. But never in the castle. I was a prefect, and later, head boy, and I knew very well that every spot that any student believes to be secluded and unknown had long before been discovered by other students and that the staff were aware of most of them. I didn't wish to sully Dervilia's reputation by having her caught alone with me. Not that we did anything very . . . risque, but just the two of us being alone, unchaperoned . . ." Albus shook his head. "It simply wasn't done. Not unless a couple was engaged, and then still not on the school grounds, though if they were caught alone, no one really said anything. It was simply frowned upon. But one day in May . . . I knew a place in the Forest, and although Dervilia did not like to break school rules, and, as a prefect, neither did I, particularly, we were both . . . well, only whispering together and walking arm and arm, or possibly holding hands, was difficult at sixteen, you know. So I brought her to a safe spot in the Forest, one that was not difficult to reach without being seen, and I cast a few nice wards – which impressed her, as I hoped it would. And I kissed Dervilia for the first time. It wasn't much of a kiss, I suppose. But it was the first time I had kissed a girl, and I rather doubt that she had kissed a boy before, so it was quite something for me. But even then, we essentially used our privacy to talk. It was wonderful to be able to talk without wondering whether we were being overheard." Albus had a dreamy, nostalgic expression on his face.

"We talked, and I removed my outer student robe, placing it on the ground for her to sit on, Transfiguring it so it was more comfortable for her. Under my black student robe, I was wearing my robes with the bright blue stripes, I remember, and there was a bright yellow ribbon, a broad bow, beneath its floppy collar. I thought I looked particularly fine. Dervilia looked very pretty, as she always did. I remember that she had her hair down, and she had a velvet ribbon the colour of the pine trees in her red-gold hair. She let me put my head in her lap as we talked. I thought that was the height of love at the time."

Albus went quiet, gently stroking his fingers over Minerva's face and hair.

"And so how did you decide to marry?" Minerva asked. He seemed willing to talk about Dervilia; perhaps he wouldn't mind answering that question.

Albus looked down at her with a smile. "We were quite . . . restrained, even out of the watchful eye of the castle. Our seventh year, we often went to that spot in the Forest. Eventually, however . . . you have to understand, I was very young, and somewhat . . . sheltered, I suppose, in some ways. One afternoon, as I kissed her, my hand strayed across her breast, and when I removed it placing it back on her arm, she kissed me again, and she took my hand and put it back there. I had never felt so aroused . . ." Albus blushed. "The next time we were there in our little glade, before I had done any more than hold her hand, she stopped, looked at me and removed her school robe. Then she . . . I don't suppose she would mind me telling you," he said as his blush grew, "she opened the bodice of her robe, then she unbuttoned a few of the buttons of her chemise. I don't believe that I could breathe for watching her. Then she took my hand and let me touch her skin there." He shook his head. "She really was hardly exposed at all, you understand, but it felt so very . . . intimate. The time after that, she did the same thing, but on this occasion, I boldly reached beneath her chemise. I remember how she closed her eyes, and though she didn't say so, I knew that she enjoyed it. That was when I decided . . . I decided to bring her to my special place on the mountain opposite the school. And a few weeks later, we were able to break away from everyone else as we headed into Hogsmeade, and I Apparated her to the place that I brought you earlier this summer."

He was quiet again, thinking, remembering, then he sighed. "We made love. And the next week, I asked her to marry me. It was only right, having made love to her, to offer her marriage. It was what one did then, at least if one was young. It was the way I was raised. And I believed I loved her. I did love her. But I had an unrealistic view of marriage. Dervilia loved me, and she agreed immediately. I asked her aunt and uncle, who had raised her, for permission to wed her, and they also agreed. They were Muggles, and so they didn't know any better. If they had been a wizarding family, they might have heard old Eliza MacAirt's predictions of doom, and forbidden the marriage. But we wed and we moved to her grandparents' old cottage. I used a great deal of magic to fix it up, to make it comfortable for Dervilia. But I was rarely there. And then . . . and then I killed her – caused her death, at any rate."

"No, Albus, you didn't. It is unfortunate that you weren't there when it happened, but even if you had had a normal wizarding job and come home every evening, it might still have happened," Minerva said.

Albus shrugged. "I know that, but that wasn't the only mistake I made. I didn't accept my mother's offer of Ferchil, her old house-elf – Wilspy's uncle, I believe he was. But worse . . . it was because of me that she was pregnant."

Minerva knit her brow. "Well, of course it was. But couples have babies. It is part of married life for most people. It couldn't have been a surprise."

Albus shook his head. "She was taking a monthly potion, one that I prepared, and one month, I didn't make it. I was very busy, and I forgot. So I used a charm, instead, one I had only read about and had never used before. The books all say that while learning to use that charm, other methods should be employed, as well. But in my arrogance, I believed it was simplicity itself. I had always been very good with magic of every sort. Why should this be any different?" Albus sighed. "But it was, apparently, and I obviously didn't cast it properly on one occasion. And Dervilia became pregnant. She was happy about it. We hoped, actually, that by the time she gave birth, I would be through with my apprenticeship, which is one of the reasons why I was away from home for such long stretches. I had been before, but now, I really wanted to prove myself and finish as soon as possible so that I could support my wife and baby. I should have quit the apprenticeship. I should have taken a job. I should have done many things differently."

"But you didn't. And I doubt that Dervilia would want you to still feel guilty about it after all of these years." When Albus didn't say anything, Minerva said, "I wish I hadn't asked . . . I didn't want you to feel badly. Not at all."

"I am just a little sad, that is all." Albus smiled down at Minerva, though somewhat wistfully. "Most of my memories of her, now that I think about it, are happy ones. And . . . I shouldn't have married her. I should have listened to Eliza MacAirt. I should have simply waited and been patient, waited for you, my dear."

"But if all of that hadn't happened, then perhaps we never would have met, Albus. And we would not have the mated wands," Minerva said.

"Perhaps not . . . or perhaps some things truly are fated to be, certain . . . patterns and shapes to events, anyway. Although I do wish I had never known Grindelwald as a youth, it was still my understanding of him and our previous acquaintance that allowed me to defeat him. Perhaps, somehow, for some reason, I still would have found Master Nyima and spent several months as the neighbour of Mother Dragon." Albus shrugged again. "We cannot say what might have been. We can only work with what is now and hope to have some positive influence on events that will occur in the future."

Minerva sighed and nodded. "Perhaps. I don't hold much faith in divination in general, but it does seem as though some folk do have some kind of gift in that area. But from what I have read, such folk do speak of patterns that are laid out and difficult to alter, although individual events might be more malleable. And some events, they say, are necessary to the pattern and unalterable."

Albus nodded. "I actually think that it is a mistake to think that just anyone can practice true divination, that it's something that can be taught, like Charms – the sort of divination that the MacAirts are known for, at least. Oh, most people, even Muggles, can read tea leaves or Tarot cards and such, but the accuracy of any conclusions . . ." Albus shrugged. "It is quite a different matter when someone with a gift for divination does such a reading. And to use a crystal or other similar method, that definitely requires a true gift. And I personally believe that such a gift is of quite a different nature from our usual magical talents and magical power. Some of the most celebrated Seers have been relatively weak, magically, but the concentration of their talents in divination has made up for that. The MacAirts are unusual in that they are known not only for their divination skills, particularly the witches, but for their other magical talents. Many are gifted in Potions or Transfigurations, for example. I don't know what gifts our Quin might have, but he has a very strong and singular magical signature. He is also quite gifted in divination for a MacAirt wizard, from what both Gertrude and Hafrena have told me."

"Yes, well, he certainly read me quite clearly, and he didn't use a crystal ball or anything of the sort. It was the most peculiar divination. But I do believe that however we met, we would have met, and it would have been inevitable that once we met, I would have fallen in love with you. You are, my darling Albus, too wonderful for words, and I must say that I am still amazed that you are available to me, and I mustn't love you from afar while suffering watching you with some other witch who had been fortunate enough to find you before I could." Minerva sighed in contentment and snuggled closer to him as she caressed his beard.

"No, no other witch, my dear . . ." Albus said, kissing her forehead. "None."

Minerva wondered again about Gertrude. She was certain there was something there, something more than met the eye, whether they had ever had an intimate relationship or not, or whether Gertrude had desired more and Albus hadn't – after all, he had said that he had chosen to live a retired life. A pity he had chosen to break his "retirement" by escorting that Yaxley person. Now there was someone with a face like a Horklump. Minerva sighed again. She would wait until Albus broached the subject on his own.

"You know, Minerva," Albus said as Minerva played with the ends of his beard, "I was wondering . . . do you think that I might look a bit younger if I were to trim my beard and hair? A little less barmy?"

Minerva turned her head and looked up at him. "Barmy? I think you only look barmy when you choose to or to people who are utter fools. As for younger . . . I suppose you might. A bit. After all, it does take time to grow such a beard as you have." Minerva hesitated. "Are you thinking of returning to the look you had a little earlier this summer? When you saw me off on my holiday?"

"Not that extreme. I just thought, perhaps somewhat like I had it when we met Brennan and Melina," Albus answered.

"Oh. Well, if you wish." After having gone on about how dreadful his grey robes were, Minerva wondered if Albus thought she would try to dictate his every sartorial decision. On the other hand, she didn't want him to think that he was doing it for her when he didn't really want to and she certainly didn't want him to. "But only if you wish. You are a very handsome man no matter how I have seen you with your hair and beard, but if I may be honest, I very much like your beard and hair as they are. But as long as you didn't shave your head, or do something like a Mohican, or anything peculiar like that, I suppose it is your hair. It is up to you."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic about the idea," Albus said. "You genuinely prefer it this way? It isn't simply because you're being polite or because you are used to it this way?"

"Yes, I really do. As I told you before, most wizards couldn't carry it off as you do. In fact," Minerva said, "I saw a wizard the last time I was in London who had longish hair, greying, and a long beard, though not quite as long as yours, and he had these . . . these things braided into it. And he had a pot belly. I think he believed he was the epitome of style, but he looked quite bizarre and absurd, which you never do, even when you're trying to appear somewhat eccentric. It would quite give me the shudders to have someone like that near me, but I have a feeling he would look bizarre and absurd no matter what he did, poor soul. Whereas you – although I do ask you don't start braiding little things into your beard, unless it's for a joke or something – you couldn't be unattractive to me regardless of how long or short you decided to wear your hair."

"And you wouldn't prefer me to look a bit younger?" Albus asked.

"You would never look as you did fifty or sixty years ago, anyway, not without a Glamour, and it doesn't matter to me that you look as old as you do. You look better than many wizards thirty or forty years younger than you are, Albus, so please don't feel as though you don't measure up somehow."

"But when we're seen together?"

Minerva chuckled. "Well, if we are being discreet, then very few people who see us together will actually have any idea that we are together. In this sense, anyway. And no one who does know is going to care on account of how you look. It sounded as though Gertrude was pleased about it, Quin certainly is, and no doubt, my parents are, as well. I have no idea how Malcolm will react, but I doubt he will care one way or the other. Whatever reservations any of them may have are irrelevant, in any case, and highly unlikely to have anything to do with how long you wear your beard and hair!"

Albus chuckled. "So I take it you prefer me not to make any changes?"

Minerva shook her head and said in a low voice, "I actually find your beard very, very attractive. And, if you will pardon the term, I think it is quite sexy."

Albus blushed, as Minerva had thought – and rather hoped – he might. "Well, in that case," he said, clearing his throat, "in that case, they will remain as they are unless I have need of a Glamour for some practical reason."

"Good," Minerva said, bringing her hand to his face and caressing him before combing her fingers through his hair and pulling him down while reaching up and meeting his lips in a kiss. "Mmm, very nice," she murmured, then she repeated the kiss before leaning back again. She gazed into his eyes for a moment, then she shifted and said, "How are your legs? Am I too heavy yet?"

"No, not at all," Albus replied. Minerva had shifted her weight a few times, and he was fine, if a bit warm.

Minerva stretched up and kissed him again, then she smiled up at him. "I am comfortable, myself, but a little . . . warm, being in your arms."

She licked her lips lightly then kissed him again before leaning back in his arms. "Yes, a little warm," she said.

Minerva moved her hand to the front of her robes and pulled on the ribbon that laced the front of her bodice, and the bow came untied. She put one finger into the lacing and tugged slightly, loosening the bodice. "There that's a little better."

Minerva smiled at the expression in Albus's eyes. She reached back up and caressed his cheek again. She whispered, "Do you still enjoy seeing a girl open her bodice, Albus?"

Albus parted his lips slightly, then made a noncommittal sound, but his eyes travelled from Minerva's face to her bosom and back again. Minerva thought that his gaze had ended in the wrong spot, as much as she did enjoy looking into his eyes.

"I do believe," Minerva said softly, "that I am still somewhat too warm."

She inserted one finger in the lacing again and pulled it looser, then she slowly drew one end of the ribbon through the top eyelet, watching Albus's face as she did so.

She did the same with the other end of the ribbon, then she said in a warm voice, "So, Albus . . . do you enjoy seeing me loosen my lacing?"

Albus looked her in the eye and said hoarsely, "You know that I do . . . Minerva . . . But you needn't –"

"But I am so very warm, Albus," Minerva said, pulling both ends through the next set of eyelets at the same time. She took a deep breath and the bodice loosened further. "Aren't you going to help me, Albus? Don't you want to give me a hand?"

She took his free hand from where it rested on her hip, and brought it to her breasts, laying it on the exposed skin just above the edge of her bodice. Then she pulled the lacing again, and whispered, "Just slip your hand in there, my darling, help me loosen this up, hmm?"

Her breathing quickened as he did as she suggested, slipping his warm hand between her clothing and her breast. His eyes closed momentarily as he relished the sensation of her bare breast beneath his hand, and Minerva pulled more of the ribbon out, and the bodice fell open, revealing Minerva's prettiest lacy chemise. Her fingers moved to the tiny buttons down the front of the chemise, and she quickly unbuttoned the first several, all that she could reach, as Albus moved his hand against her breast. Minerva closed her eyes and lay back more as Albus moved aside her chemise and bared her breasts.

"Mmm." Minerva let her head fall back as she opened her eyes slightly to watch Albus's face as he watched his hand caress her breasts, first one, then the other, flicking a gentle fingertip over her nipples, causing her to gasp in pleasure.

Albus kissed Minerva's jaw, then her throat as he continued to caress her breasts. His lips moved over her soft, sensitive skin and made their way lower, then he hesitated, stopping to look at her, then closing his own eyes and resting his palm to cover one breast.

"Oh, please, Albus, don't stop . . . don't stop, you needn't stop," Minerva said softly.

Albus opened his eyes and looked at Minerva; there was warmth and affection in his gaze, and a hint of wistfulness, Minerva thought.

He looked at where his hand lay against her breast, his eyes travelling over to gaze briefly at her other rosy nipple. His hand seemed tanned, lined, and weathered against her soft, creamy skin, even with its blush of arousal, and it had been his awareness of her sweet softness beneath his lips that had caused him to pause. Then Albus had looked at his hand, which sometimes seemed the oldest, most aged part of him, and had seen it resting against her smooth, youthful skin, and he had hesitated further. She was still so young, very nearly a girl, and yet clearly a mature woman, as well. For a moment, his head swam, and Albus saw Minerva as she had been twenty years before, when she had first stepped into his classroom, her hair in a long, thick braid down her back. Her lips seemed the same as they had then, darkly rosy and slightly plump, prettily parted . . . and her eyes, that indefinable colour, sometimes seeming green, others, brown with a hint of gold at their centre, and then other times, dark grey with a deep green rim around them. Her eyes . . . Albus looked into Minerva's eyes. They were darkly green at that moment, the colour of the tartan in her robe, with gold at their centres, and it seemed there were fine lines of gold radiating out from her dilated pupils toward the dark grey circles bordering her irises. He saw Minerva in those eyes, an ageless, beautiful Minerva . . . his Minerva. No, not his Minerva, but Minerva, his beloved. Beloved Minerva.

"Minerva," Albus murmured, "Minerva, my beloved, my beloved Minerva . . ."

He bent his head and kissed her lips as he brushed his fingertips across one nipple to the other. His lips moved sensuously with hers, and he let out a long, low sound of satisfaction. Albus pulled back again slightly, smiling gently as his eyes met Minerva's, his fingers still teasing her nipples.

"Not stopping," Albus said in a whisper, "merely pausing to see you." He brought his hand up from Minerva's breast to her cheek, where his fingers grazed her softly. "I love you, my sweet Minerva, my beloved . . ."

Albus gathered Minerva up into his arms and kissed her again, then held her tightly against him, kissing the side of her head. "I love you so very much," he whispered. "I wish to savour every moment."

"I love you, too, Albus, I love you, too," Minerva said, relaxing into his embrace. While she wished he would have simply continued as he had, she told herself that he had taken another step forward, and he had enjoyed it and seen that she had, as well. And she still was enjoying herself, as her breasts rubbed against his beard. A long beard was so much softer and nicer than a short, bristly one, she thought, and she whispered, "I love to feel your beard against me like this, Albus."

"Mmmm, do you really?" he asked, a smile in his voice. "We shall have to ensure that you have many opportunities to enjoy it, then."

Minerva laughed softly, then sighed and closed her eyes.

"Sleepy, my dearest?" Albus asked.

"As much as I hate to admit it, yes, I am," she replied.

"Then, may I assist you in . . . returning your clothes to their usual order, then walk you to your rooms?" Albus said. "We can play chess another night. Perhaps even tomorrow, if you like."

"I had thought you could come to my rooms tomorrow evening, but I haven't a chess set here at school," Minerva answered.

"No? Well, I'll bring mine, then."

Minerva nodded against him, then brought her hands up and quickly buttoned her chemise. She whispered a lacing charm, bringing the ribbon back through its eyelets. "Tie it in a nice bow for me, Albus?" she said, pulling back to give him room.

He quirked a smile. "Do you prefer a spell or that I do it manually?"

"Manually, please . . . and I like them untied manually, as well. For your future reference, in case you ever . . . wish to help me unlace sometime," Minerva said, fighting a blush.

"I am quite certain that I will," Albus said in a low voice before he kissed her, then he drew the ends of the ribbon together, pulling on them slightly, and tied them into a bow, making it the same size as the one she had had previously.

"May I use your loo?" Minerva asked.

"Of course, my dear! Always feel free – no need to ask," Albus said.

"Thanks – I'll just be a moment."

Minerva used the loo and freshened up – the activities had had quite an effect on her, and she only wished that Albus had experienced exactly what his touch had done to her. But there would be time for that later. She rejoined Albus in the sitting room.

"Let's take the long way this time, Albus," Minerva suggested. "I would like to have a bit of a walk with you before you say good-night to me."

"Very well, my dear! As you wish," he said, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it lingeringly before turning it over and kissing the inside of her wrist very softly.

"Continue doing that, Albus, and you won't be able to walk me to my rooms as you wish," Minerva said quietly, her gaze intense upon him.

Grinning puckishly, Albus gave her hand a squeeze, then he led her down to his office, and they rode the spiral stair down to the second floor, Albus turned toward her and kissing her as they descended. Minerva wished they were going up and not down, and that she could put her legs around him, open his robes, and have him enter her as they ascended to his office, then carry her like that into the office, close the door behind them, and have him take her hard against the door. These thoughts caused Minerva to moan and press herself against Albus.

They reached the second floor far sooner than Minerva wished, and when the broke their kiss at the base of the stair and the gargoyle opened the entrance for them, Minerva looked up at Albus and whispered, "You should either have a much longer staircase or a much shorter one."

Albus's own breathing was ragged, but he whispered, "I believe I tend to agree there . . ."

He let her go and gestured that Minerva should step through before him, then he followed her before the gargoyle snapped the door closed behind them. Albus offered her his arm, and they began to walk down the broad corridor in the direction of the main stairway, both trying to regain their composure, when they heard footsteps behind them. Albus and Minerva looked at each other, and by mutual unspoken agreement, they continued walking without looking to see who might be near. Albus steered Minerva toward a side corridor, but before they reached it, a voice hailed them. The couple stopped and turned, waiting for Malcolm to catch up with them.

"I thought I was the only one up and about," Malcolm said with a grin as he came toward them. He was dressed in trousers, rather than the kilt he had been wearing earlier in the day, and he had a dark green, hooded cloak hanging loosely from his shoulders, though his head was uncovered and the hood thrown back, revealing his tussled curly dark auburn hair.

"On your way out?" Albus asked with a polite smile.

"Yes, just for a little while, though. I'll be back in a couple hours –" Malcolm broke off, looking over at his sister and blinking for a moment. "But, as I was saying, I am only going out to the Forest for a wee bit, then I'll be back."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "The Forbidden Forest? Now?"

"Aye – Trudie didn't want to come, but she said it was all right. She is the Deputy Headmistress," Malcolm replied, a slight chafing in his tone.

"And it is . . . I do assume that you will comport yourself properly and that you will be wary of the dangers posed. I was merely surprised," Albus responded.

"Yes, well, surprises all around, aren't there?" Malcolm said, seeming to address Minerva, his head cocked to one side, and then adding, "Gertrude was surprised I wanted to go out at this hour, but there is a plant I saw this afternoon that is only active well after sunset, the Nocturnal Dancing Umbratrope. I wanted to observe it for a while at the peak of its activity. It's quite romantic. I had hoped that Tru would come with me, but – say! What about you two? Would you like to come?" Malcolm's mood was suddenly bright and ebullient as this new idea struck him, and he looked at them both.

"Perhaps another time," Albus said with a smile.

"Yes, thank you, Malcolm," Minerva said, "but I am rather tired tonight. I was looking forward to my bed."

Malcolm twitched a smile and said, "Yes, I see." He nodded. "Good night, Professor, good night, Minerva – I'll stop by tomorrow. We can . . . catch up." With that, he turned and headed toward the main staircase at a good clip, and a moment later, his footsteps clattered down the stairs, echoing in the high, vaulted corridor.

"Well, that was odd," Minerva said softly.

"Really, my dear? The Nocturnal Dancing Umbratrope is an interesting and beautiful plant. I can understand why he would wish to see it and why he would like to share the experience," Albus answered.

"He just . . . there was something he was keeping himself from saying, and given that Malcolm is rarely concerned with being courteous or holding his tongue –" Minerva shrugged. "I don't know. It was the way he looked at me, I suppose."

"Lest we encounter someone else unexpectedly, my dear, may I suggest an alternate route?" Albus said.

Minerva agreed, curious about what he had in mind. He led her down the side corridor on their left. When they reached the statue of a young, bearded wizard holding his staff with both hands, diagonally but close to his body, Albus passed his hand over the stone wall beside him, and a door shimmered then opened to them.

"We can take this passage to the sixth floor, then walk up from there, if that suits you, Minerva," Albus said softly.

Minerva entered the peculiar corridor, which, though there were no stairs and no sense that one was leaving the level, led from the dungeons all the way up to the sixth floor.

"I took this passage that morning that I met you for breakfast the first time. I was running late, and the passage exits very close to your old rooms – this is it here," Albus said, gesturing at the wall as they walked by it.

Minerva saw no difference between the wall and what Albus identified as the exit, and she said so.

Albus smiled and paused, stepping back a ways. He took Minerva's hand and raised it to the wall. "Feel this here," he said, "and then this, here." He placed her hand first on one section of the wall then on another.

"Ah . . . yes, I feel the difference. I assume that the one that feels . . . rougher is the doorway?" she said questioningly.

"Yes, the one with the more distinct signature is the exit to the fourth floor." He looked at her and grinned. "Why don't you see if you can find the exit to the sixth floor, my dear?"

"Oh, no – I can barely feel the difference here and you told me precisely were the exit was. We'll be in here all night if you leave it to me to find," Minerva said, shaking her head.

Albus just chuckled. "I can think of more comfortable ways of spending the night with you, but not only do I believe you can find it, but I also promise that if it becomes too frustrating for you, I will bring you to the exit."

Minerva sighed and kept herself from rolling her eyes. "All right, Albus, I'll play along. Just give me a minute here first."

Albus stood quietly and watched while Minerva familiarised herself with the sensations coming from the fourth floor exit and the wall around it, running her palms over the wall about a quarter inch from the surface, then doing the same thing using her wand. She furrowed her brow, pocketed her wand again, then repeated the process with her bare hand. Finally she nodded.

"You know, Albus," she said as they walked up the passage, her palm skimming the stones of the wall beside them, "it is awfully late for playing games like this."

"You needn't, Minerva. I'm sorry. If you're too tired –"

"No," Minerva said, "now I want to see if I can do it."

"Um, in order to be completely fair, then, Minerva, I think I should mention that the exit on the sixth floor is not on that wall." At her expression, Albus laughed. "I assumed that you might think of that, but it is late, as you have said."

Minerva did roll her eyes at that, and she began to run her hand along the other wall. "Oh, Albus, this wall feels different from the other one!" she cried in frustration.

"Of course it does, but so does the exit! Don't worry, my dear, I'm certain you can do it," Albus said cheerily.

Minerva wasn't as confident, but she gamely continued up the passageway, grateful that the torches set every several feet seemed to sense their approach and light themselves well before the two reached them. She looked back over her shoulder and saw that the torches now far behind them, near the second-floor exit, had extinguished themselves. Taking a deep breath, and glad that Albus was with her, Minerva shook off her creeping sense of claustrophobia and concentrated on the sensation of Hogwarts magic vibrating in the wall on her right. She wasn't sure whether she could trust her ordinary senses in that peculiar passage, but she felt as though they had gone almost as far as they had when Albus had stopped and pointed out the exit to the fourth floor. She slowed her pace. Suddenly, a smile lit her face and she turned to Albus.

"Here! Is it here, Albus?" Minerva asked.

Albus smiled broadly. "It most certainly is." He placed his own palm against the wall; it shimmered, then the door opened. Albus bowed to Minerva. "After you, my dear!"

With a sigh of relief, Minerva was pleased to step through the doorway and into a narrow hallway, and Albus followed her. The door disappeared as soon as Albus stepped through it, and Minerva turned to see a portrait of a beardless youth, dressed in a kilt and tunic, a mischievous smile on his face, his staff held in his right hand and lifted as though in greeting. It seemed to Minerva like a Muggle portrait, as the youth did not move from his pose, but then he winked a brilliant blue eye at her, and she realised that it was, indeed, a wizarding painting.

"Is it the same wizard, Albus? The one here, and the one in the statue, and then the one in the tapestry down in the dungeon?" Minerva asked.

"Indeed," Albus answered as they walked to the main corridor, "it is. The youngest representation is here, on the sixth floor, and the oldest representation is in the dungeon. There is no portrait or statue at the rooftop exit, however, only a staff, carved in relief beside it. The portrait on the fourth floor is also of the wizard, however. He is seated in that painting, and he rarely turns his face toward the world. He is younger than he appears to be in the tapestry, but older than the statue of him. He appears to be in mourning. None of the portraits ever speak, and they move very little, and the statue is likewise fairly static. I do not know whether it is because of the nature of the original charms on the paintings and tapestry or whether it is because the charms are so old that they have lost some of their vitality. I am curious about them, but I have never found the time to investigate them." He smiled ruefully. "I find myself saying that quite often, I am afraid."

Minerva returned his smile and said, "Perhaps over the next few years, you will find the time to explore all these mysteries and to discover new ones that you'll have to put off investigating until another decade."

They reached her rooms in what seemed to Minerva no time at all once they had left the secret passageway.

"So, Albus, come in for a bit? Join me for my bedtime cup of tea?" Minerva offered, sure that he would decline, but hoping that he wouldn't.

"I would enjoy that very much, my dear – although perhaps you might permit me to Floo to my office if I were to remain a while?" Albus asked.

Minerva laughed. "It is your school, you are the Headmaster, of course you may!"

"You are the Head of Gryffindor, though. I would like you to feel as though this is your domain," Albus replied as they entered her sitting room, Minerva having given the password to the Silent Knight. "Naturally, I am the Headmaster, but I do try to give the Heads of House respect due them and not make any presumptions. And simply because you and I are something more than Headmaster and Head of Gryffindor to one another does not mean that I should discard all deference due you. And even if we were in some other situation, I would not presume to use your Floo without asking."

"Well, consider permission permanently granted, then. You may Floo in or out freely, as you wish and require, Albus," Minerva said.

"I should call through first, though, Minerva, if I were to Floo in. I wouldn't want to interrupt anything or intrude upon your privacy," he said.

"Of course, that would be fine, quite sensible, but you really needn't worry about interrupting anything. I may be busy with something, but you couldn't ever truly intrude."

"But even with our current relationship, surely you will want time to yourself, alone, even if I were not interrupting anything by dropping by. I cannot imagine that you will want to forfeit all of your privacy."

Minerva shook her head. "Come with me while I fetch our tea," she said, walking to her kitchen. "I cannot see that you would be popping in and out all of the time. You are a busy wizard. I am quite certain that I will have sufficient time to myself." She began to prepare their tea. "It's fine if you want to call through, make sure I'm not with a friend or colleague, or am about to go out, or something of the sort, and, of course, it would be less startling, but really, Albus, I want you to feel as though you can come see me as you wish, when you wish."

"All right, then. I don't tend to use the internal Floo-Network very much, myself, anyway. I just . . . I worry that I might become . . . stale to you after a while. If I hang about too much."

Minerva chuckled and put down the pitcher she had just filled with milk; she turned to Albus, put her arms around him, and looked up at him with an affectionate but amused smile.

"My dearest, most darling Albus, first, you could never 'hang about too much,' mainly because I do not see you as 'hanging about,' but also because I could never, ever get too much of you. I must say, however, that you are making progress." She reached up and gently caressed his face. Looking into his eyes, she said, "You are certainly making progress, since you did not once refer to yourself as an old codger or anything similar. Yes, 'stale' is definite progress, although still untrue. To paraphrase, age cannot wither you, nor custom stale your infinite variety, Albus, and I could never grow bored with your company nor desire that of another in your place."

Albus smile. "I do love you, Minerva McGonagall." He kissed her forehead. "I adore you," he said in a low voice. "And I will never grow tired of seeing you, spending time with you, holding you, kissing you, and telling you how wonderful you are and how very much I love you." He kissed her lips lightly. "But our tea is brewed, I believe. Let me help you with the tray, my dear."

Minerva leaned against him and closed her eyes, feeling his right arm move slightly as he waved a hand, setting all of the tea things on the waiting tray. His arm moved once more before he put it around her, joining the other one in its embrace. Albus kissed the top of her head, but Minerva didn't move except to hold him more tightly.

Albus rubbed her back, then he said, "Shall we have our tea?"

"Yes, of course . . . I simply wish that – never mind," Minerva said, shaking her head.

"What, what do you wish, my dear Minerva?" he asked softly as she began to loosen her embrace.

She looked up at him and gave him a rueful grin. "I wish I didn't have to let go of you, I suppose."

Albus chuckled and kissed her temple. "Well, let's go sit down together and drink our tea. You needn't let go of me completely, not just yet, anyway."

The two sat on the sofa and Albus, using magic, poured the peppermint tea for them, adding a little bit of honey to his, none to Minerva's, and a touch of milk to both, before Levitating the cups and saucers to them.

Minerva smiled. "You know, you don't usually use magic to pour our tea, but you did that quite nicely, especially without your wand."

"I did say you didn't need to let go of me just yet," Albus said with a grin, "and I do like to keep my word."

"But now I do, if I'm to hold the saucer while I drink from the cup," she answered, beginning to pull her arm out from behind Albus.

"Really?" Albus let go of his saucer, and it remained floating in front of him as he brought his teacup to his lips and took a sip. He set the cup back on its saucer. "Try it, Minerva."

Minerva shifted. There were particular spells she could do wandlessly with a certain degree of ease, but she didn't think she could maintain a wandless Levitation Charm, not while using her one free hand to hold her cup. He overestimated her.

"Come now, it's one you have been doing since your first year," Albus said encouragingly as Minerva sat hesitantly, staring at her cup and saucer.

Minerva shook her head. "It doesn't matter how long I have been doing it, Albus. It's the coordination." She started to draw her arm out from around him again, but Albus leaned back, trapping her arm.

He nodded toward her cup and saucer. "Just let go, Minerva, I have it for you."

Minerva blushed, but she picked up her cup, sipped her tea, and left her other arm around Albus.

"What's wrong, Minerva?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Nothing."

"Something is," he said.

Minerva sighed and put her teacup back on its saucer. She flicked her wrist and was relieved to see the cup and saucer obediently float over to the table and land with only a slight clatter.

"You overestimate my abilities, Albus. I am not untalented, but I do know my limitations. What you just saw was the extent of my ability to do wandless, nonverbal spells. I have to have at least a hand free to do it. I hope you don't think . . . I hope you don't think that simply by telling me to try to do something that I will suddenly possess abilities that I don't have. I don't want to disappoint you, or to feel that I am constantly falling short of your expectations. It reminded me of when you suggested that I could do the desalination spell wandlessly. Perhaps after a great deal of practice, I might be able to do it, at least with some degree of success, but it seems hardly the most useful way for me to spend my time. There are a few practical, everyday spells that I can perform wandlessly, and they have been sufficient for me. I can Summon my wand; I can open and close my windows wandlessly, if I need to, and there are a good many more spells that I can do nonverbally with ease; I can Levitate an object either nonverbally or wandlessly, though not usually both nonverbally and wandlessly. Sending my cup and saucer over to the table as I just did took concentration and I had to have a free hand. Please don't . . . don't have expectations of me that are impossible," Minerva ended softly.

"Oh, my dear, I am so sorry if you felt I was putting any pressure on you!" Albus sent his cup and saucer over to the table to join Minerva's. He put his other arm around her, then kissed her softly on the cheek. "I honestly do think that you have untapped potential, Minerva. But it is silly, as you say, to expend a lot of time and effort on something like a wandless desalination spell if it's not anything you care about. You are highly skilled and very talented, and I hope that you do not think that I do not recognise that. You needn't take those skills and talents in any particular direction simply because I think you could if you wanted to. But . . . if there are new things you think you would like to try, don't feel inhibited around me, either. Don't feel as though you can't try something new in front of me or that you have to succeed the first time."

Minerva smiled slightly. "All right, Albus. But if I ever were to try what you just did, I wouldn't do it with a full cup of tea."

Albus chuckled. "No, probably best not to do that. But you know, I never told you, well done for finding the door to the sixth floor this evening! You didn't think you could do that, and you managed it with no difficulty at all."

"I wouldn't say it was without difficulty, Albus, but I was pleased to be able to recognise the exit when I came upon it," Minerva answered, smiling herself.

Albus nodded then lay his head on hers. "Your familiarity with the castle's magic probably helped there. You spent a good deal of time with Gertrude and me when I was manipulating the wards that summer, and that likely helped, even though it was some time ago."

"Mmm," Minerva murmured, snuggling closer to him, eyes closed.

A few minutes later, Albus whispered, "Minerva, Minerva – I do believe you are falling asleep, my dear. It is time for me to take my leave and allow you to get your rest."

"No, that's all right; just stay a little bit longer," Minerva said sleepily.

Albus kissed the top of her head in reply, his fingers playing with a strand of hair that had come loose. Finally, ten minutes later, he kissed her head again and eased her back.

Smiling down at her as she blinked up at him, Albus said, "You sleep well, and I will see you in the morning." He kissed her forehead.

Minerva nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh. "Come take breakfast with me, Albus?"

He nodded. "Perhaps breakfast and a walk. I will need to be gone for an hour or two in the morning, though, as I have a meeting at the Ministry, so if we could eat earlier than we have done – seven-thirty?"

Minerva agreed with a nod. "I wish you had said something, though – it's quite late. You will not get enough sleep."

"I will be fine, my dear," Albus said, standing.

"Don't forget your Vitamin Potion tonight, Albus! Perhaps you ought to take the vanilla one – do you need any more of that one?"

Albus smiled at her fondly. "No, my dear, I still have three-quarters of a bottle of the vanilla, and the others you gave me are still very nearly full – although I have been taking them almost every night."

Minerva shook her head as they walked toward the door. "You should take them every night, Albus. I will remind you, if you like."

Albus's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Yes, Mother McGonagall, I shall endeavour to take them nightly. And occasional reminders would not be unwelcome."

Minerva laughed. "Very well, I'll remind you occasionally, then."

"Now, to ensure that doppelganger-Albus does not make a sudden and unwanted reappearance overnight, as unlikely as that is, I do believe that an ounce of prevention might be warranted, my dear," Albus said, a smile on his lips.

Minerva gladly administered a bit more than an ounce of prevention, kissing his lips repeatedly as he held her in his arms. Finally, Albus kissed her forehead, wished her sweet dreams, and left for the Headmaster's Tower.