CXXVII: An Interesting Idea

CXXVII: An Interesting Idea

Minerva closed her door, realising that Albus hadn't asked to use her Floo. Well, it was a short walk to his stairway, and that led directly to his bedroom. She sighed. She wished that Albus had stayed, perhaps just fallen asleep with her there on the sofa. But that did not lend itself to a very restful sleep, and he did have a meeting at the Ministry in the morning. And he clearly wasn't ready to share her bed – Minerva wasn't either, truthfully. While Minerva would be quite happy to simply share her bed with Albus, at that moment, she knew that her desire for him would have left her quite frustrated. It wasn't as though she thought that after only a few days of courtship, a couple should expect to embark upon an intimate relationship – she had been with Rudolf for a few months before they had taken that step – but she and Albus were not a typical couple in a typical relationship. They had known each other for twenty years, even though for the first several of those years she had been his student. They had been in love with each other for a long time. It wouldn't exactly be sudden and impetuous of them, after all.

Minerva went into her bedroom to begin getting ready for bed. She stood in front of her vanity and took her few Charmed hairpins from her hair and placed them in their little porcelain dish. As she did that, her eye fell upon the dark green ribbon lacing up the front of her bodice. While her first thought was of unlacing the ribbon for Albus, her second was that the lacing looked odd. The lower portion of the lacing was laced through the eyelets from the inside out, but the upper portion, on which she had used a lacing spell that evening, was laced from the outside in. The peculiar expression on Malcolm's face flashed through Minerva's mind.

Minerva sighed and sat on the bench in front of the dressing table. She doubted that most men would have noticed the lacing, but knowing her brother, he probably had. And he had seen her at dinner. That was most likely what had drawn his attention to the lacing, not simply that the top and the bottom were laced from opposite sides of the garment, but that it looked different from what he had seen a few hours before.

Oh, well – she had been going to speak to Malcolm about her relationship with Albus, anyway. But she didn't like the thoughts that had likely come into his head when he saw the laces. And no doubt he was curious about when the relationship began, and he probably believed that the relationship was further along than it was. Especially after she had said what she had about looking forward to her bed. He had probably thought that Albus would be joining her. A pity Malcolm would have been wrong about that.

First opening the windows, then waving her wand and setting her alarm clock for half past six, Minerva got into bed. Despite having been very sleepy twenty minutes before, now she lay there thinking of Albus, getting ready for bed in his tower bedroom. She imagined him undressing, removing first his shoes and socks, then his over-robe, then his under-robe. Her imagination stopped there. She wondered whether he wore any underwear. Something he had said once about Muggle pants made her think that he didn't, and his erection always seemed very . . . close when it was pressed against her. Oh, gods, sometimes it had only been one layer of fabric separating her from his penis, then. Minerva's mind wandered away from the vision of Albus undressing as he readied himself for bed to one of her reaching for him, touching him through his robe. His blue robes, the sky blue ones that fit him so marvellously, with the over-robe unfastened, as he usually wore it . . . she would reach out and touch him through his robe, feel his length through the silky fabric, run her hand up the shaft to the head and then down again. Albus would be breathing rapidly, and she would unfasten the front of the robe just sufficiently to reach inside, touch him, and feel his penis, erect and excited by her presence and her touch. She would feel it with her fingers, exploring every contour, then she would step back from Albus and undress in front of him, knowing how much seeing her naked body would excite him. She would take one of his hands and bring it to her breast and take the other and bring it down to feel how warm and wet with arousal and desire she was. She would take his erection in her hand again and put a leg around him; he would lift her, thrusting, and enter her. Minerva came against her own hand before she could even imagine how it would feel to have Albus thrusting within her.

She got out of bed and went into the loo. As she washed her hands then splashed her face with cool water, Minerva wondered how on earth she would survive having Albus tease her with his touch as he did. She surely would explode with desire before he would do more than touch her breasts. He hadn't even kissed her breasts that night, stopping himself before he reached them. If he were trying to drive her mad, he was certainly succeeding, she thought with a sigh as she returned to bed. Patience was one thing, but . . . perhaps she should just take Gertie's advice from earlier in the summer: just tell him what he needs and be persistent. If that failed, she would tell him what she needed. Or not . . . Minerva sighed again as she climbed back into bed. She certainly didn't want him to classify her at all with the witches who used him for entertainment when he was a youth. That would be no better than for him to believe that she found his touch repulsive.

Restless, Minerva plumped her pillow vigorously, flipped it, rolled over to face the open window, and played the old trick she used when she was overtired and found it difficult to fall asleep: she stared at the window and tried to keep her eyes open, forcing herself to stay alert. Within minutes, she was sound asleep.

Albus lay in bed and reflected on the day. He had accomplished a great deal that afternoon, but his favourite parts of the day were the time he had spent with Minerva. He smiled. She had been so sleepy when he had finally left her. He hoped she would sleep well. He had the sense that she would have liked him to have stayed, but he didn't think that was wise for either of them. It now seemed highly unlikely that Minerva would be repulsed by the touch of his lips on her body, or any other touch, at least not during this phase of their relationship. But he was not ready yet to extend their intimacies, and he did not want to have to resist his desire to touch her, to love her, and to bring her pleasure, let alone to seek his own release in her warmth. Albus rolled over. No matter how much more sure of himself he was now, confident that Minerva would not shy from his touch, he still was very uneasy about her own touch of him.

He wasn't entirely sure what his reluctance was. In part, it was his desire to go slowly, to court her properly, to not heighten his desire to a point at which it might be more difficult for him to treat her as he should, as she deserved. But it was also simple shyness, a slight embarrassment at his own level of arousal, and, although he hated to admit it, even a bit of fear that she would not wish to touch him, that she would find his . . . maleness distasteful. It seemed an absurd fear when Albus thought of it in the abstract, but in the moment, when he was with Minerva and her hand approached his erection, he felt nervous. How would he know what she really felt when she touched him? Whether she was in some way disgusted, or, worse, found him ridiculous?

Albus rolled over again. That thought in itself was ridiculous, he recognised that. Even in the moment, he knew it was ridiculous. But he couldn't completely dismiss it, even though he would have liked to. Once they had made love, once he had shown her all of his love and devotion, he was certain that those fears would fade away. Provided he could satisfy her. Perhaps her expectations were so high, that he never could fulfil them. On the other hand, she might have the same worries. He wished he could talk to her about it, but he couldn't imagine how he would even begin such a conversation. Even approaching the topic of sexuality obliquely was difficult for him. Discussing with Minerva his early relationship with Dervilia had been awkward enough; Albus couldn't imagine talking to her about their own intimate relationship and its future.

Sighing, Albus also recognised that maintaining their romantic relationship during the school year would be difficult enough, but an intimate, sexual relationship . . . that would present a challenge even if they weren't Headmaster and Head of House. For a moment, he wished that Minerva weren't Head of Gryffindor; it would certainly make it easier for their personal relationship if she didn't have those added responsibilities, if she weren't tied to Gryffindor House. But professionally, and as her friend, Albus was pleased that Minerva was Head of Gryffindor, and he couldn't truly regret it, although he did admit regretting the burdens their responsibilities would place on their romantic relationship.

As Albus began to consider all of the difficulties that their combined responsibilities would place on them, he believed even more strongly that not only was Minerva's suggestion to go away, just the two of them, for a few days, a good idea, but that perhaps he ought to consider moving forward with the intimate aspects of the relationship before the school year began, possibly during those days away, if it was what Minerva wanted – and although Minerva hadn't directly said that she wanted him to make love to her, it certainly seemed as though she did. However it came about, he vowed to make Minerva feel comfortable and in control of the experience. He wanted her to enjoy it and he certainly didn't want her to feel overpowered by his own passion, as considerable as it was. Albus's thoughts turned again to the pleasure he had brought her the previous night. Neither of them had even begun to disrobe, and he was certain that Minerva had come in his arms as he stimulated her through her clothing. She was very responsive, he thought, his pulse increasing with the memory. And that night, seeing her breasts, creamy and flushed . . . she was so beautiful, and he now wished that he had continued kissing her, proceeding down to her breasts, licking and sucking her rosy nipples. She had very lovely breasts. Albus had always liked a woman's breasts, and he thought that Minerva's were the most attractive of any he had seen – and he had seen many, even though his experience in recent years was limited.

Albus almost Summoned his wand to cast a Cooling Charm on his genitals, but then he decided to leave it. After thinking of Minerva as he had, the pressure and the arousal was almost uncomfortable, with no outlet for it. He would simply think of other things, Albus decided, redirect his thoughts, and allow it to subside on its own. He rolled over onto his stomach and began to consider his upcoming meeting at the Ministry – which was scheduled in only a few short hours. He really needed to get some sleep. Regulating his breathing, he began an exercise that would help him to relax. Ten minutes later, he had drifted off to sleep.

Minerva and Albus began to walk back around the castle from where they had sat on a conjured glider beside the lake talking for more than a half hour. The sharp breeze off the lake had been very cool that morning, and Minerva had been glad for the plaid shawl that went with her robes, matching the skirt's soft, muted tartan of green, brown, and blue. The heathery bodice had long sleeves of the same soft green, but the shawl's warmth was welcome, even after Albus had cast a Warming Charm. Albus said that his robes seemed to adjust to the ambient temperature to some degree, and he was quite comfortable despite the wind whipping up the waters.

Albus was wearing the starry silk robes that Minerva had given him for his birthday. He had meetings at the Ministry, and he had chosen those robes in part because of the meetings, but also because he wanted to show Minerva how much he appreciated her gift. The last time he had worn them, he had had no choice, since it had been Wilspy's idea.

Minerva was not completely happy with the course of their most recent conversation that morning. She had asked Albus again about going away for a few days, and he had pleased her by saying that he had drafted a letter to the staff the previous day, and after putting finishing touches on it, he would send it out that afternoon. They would be free until Wednesday now, and could take a short holiday together. She had been so pleased that she had leaned over and kissed him, despite the fact that they were out in the open on the school grounds. He had smiled and patted her hand. But then she had mentioned a possible destination, and their disagreement began.

"I thought perhaps we might go to your cottage, Albus," Minerva suggested. "We could be alone and undisturbed, and just Albus and Minerva together."

Albus shook his head. "I don't know, Minerva . . . What about Brighton? A little sea air? Some sun? The Muggle arcades can be quite amusing. It would be warmer in Brighton, too," he said as a particularly sharp gust of wind rocked their glider.

"Brighton? There would be crowds of people there. And I have nothing against Muggles, but I would like us to be able to relax, be ourselves. I can't do that if I have to constantly remember not to do any magic and try to figure out Muggle gadgets," Minerva replied. "I think your cottage would be perfect."

"No . . . no, I don't think so. What about Paris, then? It's a beautiful, romantic city. I know a sweet little wizarding pension where we could stay. There are wonderful Muggle museums there, and the museum of magical history there is quite fascinating. It has exhibits from around the world. And we could visit Perenelle and Nicolas. I don't believe you have met them."

Minerva sighed. "That would be nice, some other time. I would like that and it sounds lovely. Perhaps next summer. But for these few days . . . I just would like to be alone with you. Your cottage sounds ideal."

"It's not. Not at all," Albus replied.

Minerva furrowed her brow. "Is it because of Valerianna? Memories of her there?"

"No, no, it's not that," Albus said, shaking his head.

"Because it wouldn't be at all the same with us – "

"No, it isn't that. It is not even the same cottage," Albus explained. "I gave my cottage to Aberforth for his birthday that year. He insisted I take his. So it's not that."

"Are you sure?" Minerva asked, looking at him sceptically.

Albus laughed. "Of course I'm sure – my old cottage in the Dales is perfect for Aberforth and his sheep and goats. And the other cottage suits me. But it isn't suitable for our holiday."

"Why ever not?" Minerva asked, baffled.

Albus had tried to explain, but not to Minerva's satisfaction. And now he had to leave for London. They hadn't argued, precisely, but Minerva was not happy with the way they had left the topic, both agreeing to think about it. She didn't think that either one of them was likely to change their minds. But she would think about it . . .

As the two rounded the castle to head down the drive to the gates, they saw Malcolm and Gertrude leaving through the front doors. Albus waved, and the two smiled as they walked toward him and Minerva.

After morning pleasantries, Malcolm said, addressing his sister, "I have business to take care of today, but I will be back before lunch. You will be in all day?"

Minerva nodded as the four of them began to walk down to the gates. "I have no plans to go anywhere, and the Headmaster is passing the wards to me."

Malcolm quirked a smile that didn't extend to his eyes. "Yes, it is good that the 'Headmaster' can rely on you. I'll find you when I'm back, then." He turned to Gertrude. "I will see you at lunch, Tru?"

Gertrude smiled warmly. "You know you will – and I thought that after, we can practise again, as you suggested yesterday."

"Practise?" Minerva asked.

"Mm, for the duel and the rest of the practical interview," Gertrude said.

"It's set for Saturday – though we haven't determined a time," Albus said. He looked at Malcolm. "What do you say to two o'clock, my boy?"

"Two o'clock . . . I am not at my peak then. I think nine would be better – if it is all right with you," Malcolm said, looking at Albus. "And please, do not call me that. I don't like it. Or 'son' – rather an odd thing for you to be calling Minerva's oldest brother, anyway, don't you think, sir?"

Minerva caught some hostility in Malcolm's tone, and she didn't like the way that he addressed Albus, nor that he mentioned his dislike for the term right there in front of others. He could have spoken to him privately. Apparently Gertrude wasn't pleased, either, though Minerva wouldn't have recognised it earlier in the summer. Gertrude tightened her grip on Malcolm's elbow, apparently painfully so, given his reaction, and her eyebrow was raised as she looked up at Malcolm and shook her head slightly.

"Um, that is, Professor, I would prefer it if you just called me 'Malcolm,' as everyone does. If you would," Malcolm said more deferentially. "I would be more comfortable with that."

"Of course, Malcolm," Albus said mildly. "It is a habit I have . . . with people with whom I am comfortable. It was meant fondly, but I understand that it might not be appropriate."

Gertrude changed the topic back to the time and place of the practical interview, and the three agreed that they would meet with Filius Flitwick the next morning to discuss the details. Malcolm perked up at that, and, somewhat oddly, to Minerva's way of thinking, both he and Albus seemed to share an enthusiasm for the prospect. They were like two little boys together, she thought, and Malcolm showed no further sign of antagonism toward his future boss. But that was typical of her peculiar brother.

Minerva wanted to ask to attend the meeting, as well, but then she thought that she would have nothing positive to contribute to the planning – nothing but her worries. She would just ask Albus about it afterwards. And Malcolm. She did hope that Albus was careful with him. In a show of bravado, Malcolm might seem to be stronger and more skilled than he was – or more than he could sustain, at any rate – and invite a powerful response from Albus. On the other hand, if Albus underestimated Malcolm, he might let his guard down and get hurt himself. It was just as well she not attend the planning meeting, Minerva was sure. Although perhaps she should volunteer to help Malcolm practise, if they could find a suitable time.

They reached the gates, and Malcolm bent his head and kissed Gertrude lightly on the forehead, then again on the cheek. "I will see you later, Tru-love," he whispered. He nodded to Albus, smiled at his sister, then stepped through the gates and Disapparated with a short, sharp crack.

"Are we still meeting at four, Albus?" Gertrude asked.

Albus nodded. "I plan to be in my office all afternoon, but four would be most convenient. I should be done with almost everything else then." He turned to Minerva. "I will see you at lunch, my dear, and we can finalise our plans for the evening." He raised a hand and brushed her upper arm.

He stepped toward the open gate, and Minerva took a step after him. He turned and smiled at her. "You must remain on the grounds, Minerva, if I am to pass the wards to you," he said gently.

Minerva nodded and stepped back, but she swallowed hard from the sudden sense of disappointment that washed over her. "Have a good morning, then, Albus," she said, trying not to sound as unhappy as she felt. It had started out a lovely day, and although nothing had precisely gone wrong, Minerva now felt unsettled.

"Same to you, my dear," Albus replied as he stepped off the grounds, passing the wards to her with a wave of his hand. "See you later, Gertrude!"

Albus drew his wand, and just before he Disapparated, he winked at Minerva, cast a quick glance at Gertrude, and then blew Minerva a kiss, which she felt land warmly on her cheek. Suddenly, everything seemed much sunnier, and Minerva smiled brightly and waved to Albus before he left for London, making the smallest of pops as he did.

At six o'clock, Minerva put the finishing touches on the table. She had instructed Blampa to wait to bring the meal until she was called, since Albus had not been sure when he would arrive, as he wished to be entirely free that evening and finish everything he needed to before dinner, but Albus had said it would certainly be before seven o'clock. It was just as well, though, to have everything ready, in case he could get there earlier. Minerva was relieved that Albus had agreed to dine with her that evening. After their day with its ups and downs, she just wanted some peace alone with him. Albus had said that he would bring his chess set and they could spend the evening playing chess. She sighed. She enjoyed chess, and she particularly enjoyed playing chess with Albus, but she could think of another activity that she would greatly prefer to chess.

Minerva touched her ear, feeling the smooth, warm amber, and smiled. The earrings had been such a thoughtful gift, and they did look very well with her amber necklace. Her smile grew as she remembered how excited he had been to give them to her after lunch, and how pleased he was that she liked them. It wasn't merely the gift that she had appreciated, Minerva thought, but that he had noticed her amber necklace and had remembered it when he had seen the earrings. When she had tried them on and asked why he had given them to her, for what occasion, and Albus had replied that it was a Tuesday on which he loved her and she loved him and that was occasion enough, Minerva had felt almost moved to tears. She believed that there was nothing she would not do for that wizard.

His kisses after he had given her the earrings had been warm and arousing. It was all Minerva could do not to try to entice Albus away from his work for the afternoon, but she knew that he had a lot to do and she also remembered her promise not to press him. Flooing directly to her own office, using her new password, which Albus had set to "pulcherrima," saying it was only fitting for the most beautiful witch in the world, Minerva had left him in his office and to his work.

Now though . . . Albus had set aside the evening for them, he had no work calling him, and her promise may have been somewhat open-ended, but it wasn't absolute, Minerva reasoned to herself. If he seemed reluctant or anxious, she wouldn't press him too much, but if he seemed amenable . . . she didn't want to appear to be sexually wanton, but she didn't want to feign a disinterest or coolness that she didn't feel, either. And she certainly did not want him to doubt his attractiveness to her. Yes, perhaps tonight, after dinner, when they were both relaxed, she could move the cuddling and the kissing in a more passionate direction.

She did hope that Albus felt some sexual passion – Minerva remembered her speculations earlier in the summer about his love life and any urges he might have, and she began to worry that even though Albus was still capable of sexual activity, and even though he clearly did become physically aroused with her, perhaps his passions had died away to a bare simmer. He had, after all, led what he had described as a "retired life." Minerva assumed that he had spent a long period of his adult life, perhaps most of it, in abstinence. It could be that either the abstinence came easily to him because he was not particularly sexual – she did know some people like that, after all – or possibly the abstinence itself had extinguished any passion he had once had. It could be that there was some . . . not truth, but some cause for Valerianna's nasty words – if Albus had found it easy to be a gentleman with Valerianna and not press his advantage with her, and she was used to rutting with every wizard who caught her fancy, it could be that she sensed his lack of desire. Although if that witch had sensed a lack of desire, it had been a lack of desire for her, not necessarily a lack of desire in general. Nonetheless, Albus had been very restrained. Minerva did hope that it was merely out of a desire to be a gentleman, and perhaps because of a little lingering insecurity or nervousness, and not from a lack of sexual desire for her. She did want him to want her and to . . . well, to find sex with her more than just a pleasant pastime on the same order as a game of chess.

The Silent Knight entered the landscape over the fireplace and announced that the Master of the Castle had arrived. Minerva waved her wand and opened the door to Albus as she hurried across the room to meet him. As the door closed behind him, Albus took Minerva into his arms with a smile and sent his chess set floating across the room to the coffee table.

"Ah, Minerva, you look so lovely this evening!" he said, kissing her cheek in greeting.

"I am wearing the same thing I was wearing earlier today," Minerva said with a slight laugh, returning his kiss, but placing hers lightly on his lips.

"But you looked very lovely then, and your beauty is certainly undiminished by the passage of a few hours," Albus murmured before returning her kiss.

"Mmm," Minerva sighed, "you, though, look absolutely wonderful this evening, Albus. And you didn't change for dinner, either, for which I am most grateful." She kissed him again, pulling his lower lip between hers and tasting it with the tip of her tongue before sucking it gently.

Albus was still wearing the starry robes he had been wearing that morning when he had left for the Ministry, and Minerva loved the feel of them as she ran her hands over his back, their silky fabric fitting closely to his body. Her right hand skimmed his buttocks as her left hand crept up his back, winding its way into his long, soft hair. When Albus gave a slight moan, her roving hand became a bit bolder, and she squeezed his buttocks lightly as she pulled him closer to her. She broke from the kiss with a gasp as she felt his erection, growing firm against her stomach, and she turned her head as Albus bent and kissed the side of her jaw and the soft skin at her pulse point.

Minerva massaged him lightly and pushed herself against him. Albus backed up, bringing Minerva with him. Minerva felt the door hit the knuckles of her right hand, trapping it nicely as she cupped the firm curve of his buttocks, and she brought her left hand around to rub Albus's side. She rolled her hips and pressed against his erection. Albus's breath was warm and ragged in her ear as he caressed her back with one hand and stroked the side of her breast with the other. He reached between them somewhat awkwardly, seeking her breast with his hand, and he began to step forward, one halting step and then another as he steered her toward the sofa.

Finally landing together on the sofa with a thump, Albus's kisses trailed down her neck toward her breasts; his hands were fumbling with the fabric covering them, trying to move it aside. Minerva reached between them and ran a hand over Albus's chest, down his stomach, and toward his erection, but Albus pushed himself up and away from her, panting slightly.

Before Minerva could protest, Albus said, "I love your robes, my dear, but they are rather . . . close-fitting."

"Hooks," Minerva said with a gasp. "In the back. Charmed."

Albus murmured, "How very . . . convenient," as he brought a hand to the back of her neck, seeking the first of the hooks-and-eyes, and placing his lips in a kiss on her forehead. Minerva worried for a moment that he wouldn't manage the charmed hooks, as it was a witch's charm, but then she felt them all release at his touch, and she sighed before Albus's lips met hers again.

Albus used both hands to push the gown from Minerva's shoulders, and the two paused a moment in their kiss so that she could pull her arms free. She then reached up for him and pulled him down to her for another kiss. One of Albus's hands found Minerva's breast and began caressing it, then kneading it gently through her chemise of thin batiste. Minerva sat up, not breaking their kiss, and she began to seek his erection again as she pushed him back against the cushions on the other side of the sofa.

She kissed Albus once more before pulling away and looking down at him as she drew one finger up over his silk-clad erection. His lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed. He swallowed and licked his lips. His breathing seemed ragged and shallow.

"Mmm, Minerva . . ." He didn't seem capable of finding any other words. "Minerva . . ."

Minerva could feel the head of his penis through his robe, and she caressed its edge before drawing her finger back down his length. She had moved aside the loose outer robe, and she could tell that there was only one layer of fabric between her and his erection. Albus placed two fingers against Minerva's wrist, but he didn't stop her from touching him. He raised his other hand to touch Minerva's breasts through her chemise.

Albus licked his lips again, smiled slightly, then said softly, "You're making it difficult for me today, my dear. First the strange hooks, and now this . . . shift. No buttons tonight. What is a wizard to do?"

Minerva grinned, eyes shining, and pressed her palm against his erection before answering his question with a very clear response. She reached down, crossing her arms, and found the bottom of her chemise, then she pulled the garment up and over her head. She let it drop to the floor beside the couch.

"Do you now have a notion of what a wizard might do?" Minerva purred softly, reaching down and caressing him through his robes again, grateful for his reaction to her touch.

Albus sat up further to embrace her, pulling Minerva onto his lap, kissing her mouth, and caressing her breasts with one hand. He moved to kiss the side of her neck, and then her shoulders. Minerva moaned and grasped at him. Albus put both arms around her and pulled her closer to him, resting his cheek on her shoulder and catching his breath. Minerva found that her movements were now restricted by Albus's embrace, and she pulled her hand out from between them and brought it to the back of his head, stroking his hair and combing her fingers through it.

She rested her head against the side of Albus's and sighed. "I'm sorry, Albus . . . I just . . . I just . . . I want you." Minerva paused, unsure of what to think of Albus's reaction, which had been to simply move his lips gently over her shoulder. The tender kisses increased the warmth and throbbing in her, and she moaned and shifted on his lap. "I know I said I would not press . . ."

Albus moved from kissing her shoulder, sitting back to look at Minerva's face. He raised a finger and gently stroked it down Minerva's temple to her jaw, then he outlined her lips before leaning forward and gently kissing them. The way that Minerva was sitting, he could reach her right ankle with his left hand. He pushed her soft shoe from her foot and drew his hand over her ankle and up her calf as he watched her face. She closed her eyes as his hand travelled up her leg, which was bent at the knee. Albus pushed Minerva's skirt aside as he caressed her, feeling her silky stocking and finding where it began high on her thigh. He rolled the stocking part way down her leg, then he shifted them both slightly so that his fingertips could caress her inner thigh.

Albus watched her reaction, and at Minerva's lack of objection, he leaned forward and kissed her lips softly and repeatedly as he caressed her, each time coming closer to her crux. Finally, fingertips met the fabric of her knickers, and he paused, not withdrawing his touch, but opening his eyes and leaning back a little to look at Minerva's face. Her eyes were partially closed and her lips parted, then she opened her eyes and looked into his. Albus swallowed nervously, but watched her face as he drew a finger across her softness, still covered in her knickers. Minerva let out a shuddering breath and gripped his shoulder hard. Her breathing was coming in gasps now. Albus leaned forward and kissed Minerva lightly on the throat as he experimentally moved his fingers up to find the waistband of her knickers. She trembled as he slipped first one then two then four fingers between her panties and her soft thatch of feminine hair. Minerva rose up slightly onto her knees as Albus's fingers went lower, and then stopped.

"Oh, Minerva . . ." Albus closed his own eyes and leaned his forehead against hers.

She was wet, very, very warm and wet. He moved his hand further into her panties and stroked her clitoris lightly with two fingers, and their tips found her entrance. Minerva held onto both of his shoulders now, and she increased her grip on him.

"Please, Albus . . . please . . ." she whispered.

Albus stroked his fingers briefly against her, then withdrew his hand and pulled her to him, holding her tightly. She was, indeed, aroused by him, by his touch, he thought. She was not humouring him. And she had wanted to touch him, he was certain of that now, as well, and she hadn't only wanted to touch him through his robes, either.

Minerva, resting her head now on his shoulder, felt tears well up into her eyes. It was too much, too fast for him. She had said she wouldn't press him. But how she wanted him, and how she wished he hadn't stopped touching her!

"I'm sorry, Albus," Minerva said very softly, trying not to let her tears affect her voice. "I am sorry. I know . . . you want to wait. I said I wouldn't press –"

"Shh," Albus responded, "shh, my dear, my love . . . it's all right."

Albus kissed the side of her head. He wanted Minerva to feel comfortable and in control. At the moment, Albus thought, he could easily simply banish her knickers, push her to the floor, and take her, pushing into her, thrusting again and again until he came in her wet warmth, and he almost desperately desired her, and it had been so very long . . . so long since he had been with anyone, and so long that he had desired Minerva. But he wouldn't do that to her, certainly not this first time. He could not let her believe that she was only an object of pleasure for him, or that a physical union with her was at all like the encounters of his youth – although he had usually taken his time with them, as well, for a fair exchange. Still, Albus wished her to feel as though she was taking her pleasure – and giving him pleasure, as well, of course. He didn't want her to think that she was not desirable. He had never desired a woman the way that he desired Minerva, and he had desired her for a very long time. An idea formed in his mind, and Albus smiled to himself.

He turned his head and kissed her ear. "I love you, my dear Minerva," he whispered. "You know that I love you, don't you?"

He felt her nod against him.

"I love you, and I often think that if I had not overheard you that day in Poppy's office, if I had not discovered then that you felt neglected by me, it may have taken much longer for me to learn that you love me and for me to be able to tell you that I am in love with you." He paused to kiss her ear again, and then he whispered, "Do you remember that day, Minerva? Do you remember how angry you were with me? I was shocked to hear how upset you were, and even more shocked to hear certain words come from your mouth. Do you remember what you said, Minerva?"

Minerva held her breath as he spoke, wondering at first why he would want to bring up that painful topic, even though he was right that it had been fortuitous, in the end, that he had overheard her ranting at Poppy. She certainly did remember that day, and how upset she had been, and how she had grown more upset after Albus had left. When he asked her about what she had said, though, and whether she remembered it, Minerva stiffened briefly as she felt a pang of remorse, but then she nodded, and she said softly, "Yes, yes, I remember, Albus."

"You may remember, my dear, that I said that you had an interesting idea – do you remember that?" His lips tickled her ear as he whispered the words into her ear. "It is still an . . . interesting idea, I think . . . if you believe that . . . I might possibly have earned such treatment. Do you remember what I said was an interesting idea?" Albus swallowed nervously. Perhaps this approach was too crude for her. It had struck him as amusing a moment ago, but now . . . he was no longer sure.

"Yes, I remember, Albus," Minerva whispered hesitantly. Surely he didn't mean what she believed he did. "I think I remember . . ."

"Would you like me to refresh your memory?" Without pause, Albus lowered his whisper even further, his words a mere breath in her ear. "Fuck Albus Dumbledore."

Albus hesitated now, and he held his breath. This was not a suave seduction. What had he been thinking? He wanted her to know that he valued her, and yet he had used crudities to introduce the notion that she might make love to him. But then Minerva turned her face and moved to kiss him. She drew his tongue into her mouth and stroked it with her own, then she kissed his lips repeatedly.

Finally, letting out a breath, Minerva said in a low voice, "Do you think . . . do you still think that it is an interesting idea? Do you think I should, then?"

His eyes were deep blue as he looked into hers, and he said, "If you wish, and if you believe I . . . if I have earned it."

Minerva smiled, a small smile at first, but it grew, and then she chuckled. "Oh, I most certainly do believe you have earned it, Albus Dumbledore."

She kissed him again, wildly, passionately, and her hands sought the buttons of his under-robe, not caring whether she managed to reach all of them, and she undid one after the other until she felt the soft skin of the head of his penis at her fingertips. Minerva took a moment to touch him, but then unbuttoned two more buttons, freeing his erection to her caresses. She stroked him, then pulled back from her kiss to look down and watch her hand on his cock.

"Oh, Albus . . . oh, gods, Albus," she said as her breath came more rapidly. "I just . . . I want you," she murmured looking back up into his eyes.

"I want you to want me, Minerva," Albus answered softly, "and I want you to do whatever it is that you wish."

Minerva ceased stroking Albus's large erection and raised her skirts; she began to tug at her knickers, but then in a fit of impatience she banished them with a word. Without any further preamble, she put one hand on Albus's shoulder and the other on his cock. She raised up on her knees, and when she lowered herself, she slid slowly over his erection. Her mouth opened as if in silent cry, and Albus closed his eyes and gasped at the sensation of her vagina sheathing him in its moist warmth. When Minerva began to raise and lower herself again, he moaned and gripped her buttocks with both hands.

Minerva, breathing rapidly, knew that she had never felt anything as satisfying as having Albus's large erection within her, stretching her, stimulating her, and as she rode him, driving her clit into his pelvis each time that she sank down over his cock, Minerva could feel the silk of his robe and the slight roughness of his beard rubbing her clit. Her movements became almost frantic, and soon, she was coming in waves, her orgasm overtaking her entirely, wiping out any conscious thought but that she was with Albus, her Albus, her beloved Albus, and she would be with him forever.

"Oh, gods, Albus, Albus, my love, my love, Albus . . . forever, Albus, forever," Minerva cried as she came, and she did not cease her movement, rising and falling on his erect penis, then she heard him gasp her name and he gripped her more tightly, pulling her down over him, and she knew that he was coming, too.

Their breathing gradually returned to normal. Minerva hadn't moved except to lean more fully against Albus and rest her head on his shoulder. Albus had brought his arms up to embrace her.

He kissed her hair and whispered, "I love you, my darling Minerva."

"Mmm, me too," Minerva said, snuggling against him and nuzzling his hair. "Very much."

Albus took a deep breath as he gently disengaged from Minerva's embrace, not dislodging himself from her, but leaning back to look into her face. He disliked bringing up anything serious or practical at the moment, but he felt it was necessary.

"Um, Minerva . . . I . . . um, I am still fertile," Albus said softly with a blush. "I had thought to . . . well, it seemed it might be practical to fix that state, some decades ago, but then I didn't . . . as I had determined not to place myself in such a position . . . and then later . . ." This was not going well. She was looking at him, puzzled and without a clue what he was driving at. "I mean to say, to come to the point . . . I will cast a contraceptive spell. Unless you have taken some previous measures . . . ?"

Minerva shook her head. It had been several years since she had stopped taking Contraceptive Potion, and she had done nothing else recently, given how slowly Albus had been progressing. There were a few other spells that she knew which she could use in lieu of the Potion, of course. Minerva shrugged, not caring what particular spell they might use or who cast it. Although the two spells that she had used most frequently in the past were ones that she would have needed to have cast before they had sex, she did know one quite well that she could use now, and another that she could even cast later, if she needed to wait for some reason.

"You wish to do it yourself, then?" Albus asked, this time, his turn for confusion.

"As you wish, Albus – I have done nothing myself, not realising that tonight . . . You had been so . . . restrained. I didn't think we would manage it this soon," Minerva explained.

Albus cleared his throat. "The best spell, in my experience, is necessary to cast after one has . . . um, afterward. Now, in fact. May I?"

Minerva nodded, and Albus reached under her skirt, placing a warm hand on her lower abdomen. She felt a greater warmth, and then the tingle of Albus's magic began to grow as he cast the spell, his eyes closed in concentration. The warmth grew to a heat, becoming uncomfortable, though not so great as to be painful, and then she felt his magic thrum and pass through her, then flow downward, seeming to melt into her. She felt another slight tingling and Albus withdrew his hand.

Minerva tilted her head questioningly, and in response, he said, "Now you are protected. Completely."

"I do not understand how this spell works. I am unfamiliar with it," Minerva said. She had confidence in him, but it had felt like a very powerful spell, and she was slightly concerned with his words and precisely what he meant by "completely."

Albus blushed again. "You cannot become pregnant now."

"I understood that – what do you mean by 'cannot'?" Now her concern was growing, though she tried not to let it show.

"I will not need to cast it again until, I don't know exactly, until, um," Albus answered, his blush growing, "until after your next cycle has begun. After the first time we do this each month, I can cast this spell. It will prevent conception for the entire month."

"Oh!" Minerva said with relief. "Well, that is a handy spell. Although slightly uncomfortable, I will admit."

Albus knit his brow. "Uncomfortable? I wanted to be certain it would be effective . . . it shouldn't be painful."

"It wasn't painful . . . just very hot. And somewhat uncomfortable," Minerva admitted.

"I will be more careful next time – I do not want it to be uncomfortable for you. You might decide the activity was not worth the discomfort afterward. Unless you prefer another method?" Albus asked. "And I could cast a spell on myself ahead of time, but the one I know for that would need to be done each time within a few hours before, um, engaging in the activity."

Minerva giggled and kissed his cheek. "You are adorable, Albus. 'The activity'!" She smiled at him fondly. "'Making love' is a rather nice way of putting it if you do not wish to mention" – she leaned closer and whispered in his ear – "the word 'sex'."

Albus chuckled nervously. "Yes, of course. But if you do wish to use your own measures, that would be fine, but I would wish to cast the other spell on myself in that case. Just to be sure, you know."

Minerva let out a breath. "I know you are nervous about this, but you needn't be. Potions are very effective, and they are readily available. I could get one from Murdoch. I trust his brewing completely. But I think your spell is more convenient. We will simply have to remember it."

"Perhaps you should take a potion as well," Albus said thoughtfully. "Just to be certain."

Minerva kissed him lightly. "We won't forget the spell, I'm sure. And if we do . . . there's a spell I haven't had to use but that my mother taught me some time ago. It can be cast up to forty-eight hours after intercourse," she said matter-of-factly.

"Er, there is one other thing about the spell I cast, Minerva," Albus said, not looking directly at her.

"What?" Minerva's nervousness returned. "Does it have a side-effect?" She suddenly worried that it would affect her libido – or even cause infertility over time, which some of the older spells sometimes did.

"No, not exactly, but the spell is very specific. Um, I don't believe this would be a consideration for you, and I only mention it in order to . . . to provide full information, you understand. Not because I have any doubts about you, or about us . . ." Albus replied, looking as embarrassed as he had a few minutes before, or even more so.

"Yes? What is it, Albus?" Minerva asked, curious.

"It is only effective with me. That is to say, it stops me from . . . um, well, it is specific to me. It isn't a general contraceptive. If you were to, um, engage in such . . . that is, another wizard . . ."

"I see," Minerva said, nodding and caressing his cheek reassuringly. "It stops me from accepting your sperm, but not that of another wizard. You're right," she added briskly, "there is no need to worry about that aspect of the spell, although it is an interesting detail." She leaned forward and kissed Albus again and hugged him tightly. "I love you, Albus. You are so very wonderful to me. And we will become more comfortable with all of this together. I promise."

Albus chuckled. "I must seem quite foolish to you."

"No, not at all. You are very sweet and thoughtful. And it can be awkward to discuss. But we'll get better at talking about things. And we'll have a lot of fun actually doing them, too, I am sure," Minerva said, her eyes sparkling. "I am sorry I was a bit . . . peremptory there, and somewhat urgent. I should have taken more time."

Albus grinned. "You were perfect. There will be occasions later for taking our time." A slight blush creeping back to his face, he added, "I felt some urgency, myself, to be honest." He looked down at Minerva's breasts and brushed his fingers over one nipple. "You really are beautiful, Minerva," he whispered. He brought his eyes back to meet hers. "Very beautiful."

Albus leaned forward and kissed her lips, and Minerva felt the desire sweep over her to move on Albus's cock again, but she only pressed herself against him. She didn't think he had completely recovered from their earlier "activity," as he put it, and she thought that if she moved, she would likely dislodge his penis, and she liked the sensation of it in her still. Minerva was disappointed, then, with Albus's next suggestion.

"Shall we freshen up now, Minerva? Have our dinner?"

Minerva sighed and nodded. Albus put his arms around her and held her close.

"Let's clean up, have dinner, and play a game or two of chess, hmm? You must be hungry," Albus said.

"I am . . . I am simply reluctant to move right now," Minerva admitted.

"Then let's freshen up, rearrange our clothes, and have a little snuggle before we call for our dinner," Albus suggested. At her small smile and nod, he pulled the bodice of Minerva's gown back up. "Would you like your shift?"

Minerva said, "No. No need right now. But I do think I will want a fresh pair of knickers, as I banished the others."

Albus chuckled. "That was a nice piece of wandless magic, Minerva."

Minerva grinned. "I was highly motivated."

"I shall have to find other opportunities to motivate you, then!" Albus said, his eyes bright.

"I have no objections to that," Minerva said with a smile as she moved off of Albus and began to straighten her clothes, putting her arms into her sleeves. She looked at Albus's robes. "I'm sorry, I seem to have made a bit of a mess of your beautiful robes."

Albus shrugged. "It wasn't all you, you know, Minerva. And it's easily remedied." He found his wand and waved it, returning the front of his robes to their previous pristine state, then he waved it again, and Minerva could feel a nice, mild cleansing charm pass over her.

"I think I will fetch my fresh knickers now," Minerva said as she activated the charm to fasten up the back of her robe. "Could you call for our dinner, Albus? Don't have her bring it immediately. We can have our snuggle while we wait for it."

Albus agreed to that proposal, and Minerva padded off to her bedroom to finish freshening up, bringing her discarded chemise with her.