Thirteen: Healing

Chapter Thirteen: Healing

Albus Flooed back to the hidden rooms after setting his plans in place. He had great hopes that Minerva would be pleased by the arrangements he had made. She knew very well that sacrifices would be a part of her life when she had bound her fate to his own, all those years ago. But those sacrifices, which Minerva made so ungrudgingly even when it was painful for her to do so, they did not need to be unmitigated and unrelieved. He could make the time that they could have together the very best possible for her, make memories for her to savour. Albus loved Minerva without compare, and much as he would prefer to live a quiet home life with her, it was not possible without making other sacrifices that were not his to make. Tonight, he would remind her of his love for her and ensure that she knew that he didn't take her for granted. He never had, but he could see how it might appear that way to her occasionally, just as, in his own earlier nervous exhaustion, Albus had considered that perhaps Minerva might be happier when he was away from the castle than when he was with her. Under ordinary circumstances, he would never have believed such a thing, but the circumstances over the last few days were far from ordinary.

Looking around the sitting room, Albus noticed that Wilspy had cleared away their dessert. Minerva must be in the bedroom. He smiled. No interruptions this night. No rising to go and appease the Adfectus, letting Severus touch her and hold her. Minerva wasn't in the dimly lit bedroom when he walked in, and he could hear the shower running in the bathroom. Another shower?

Albus sighed. Although Minerva had participated in relieving Severus of the spell of her own free will, and Albus was sure that Severus had been gentle with her – and she with him, from what little Severus had said – Minerva must still feel uncomfortable with what happened. She had used the word "sullied." His earlier reassurances and her own understanding of the spell and that what she had done saved Severus's life had apparently not been sufficient to keep Minerva from feeling as though she were somehow unclean. She was probably trying to wash away Severus's touch and her own memory of it.

Albus removed his shoes and socks and shed his clothes, leaving his robes lying negligently on the floor beside the bathroom door before he opened it and entered the steam-filled room. Minerva's own robes had been discarded on a chair, and her jewellery lay carelessly beside the sink. Albus could just make out Minerva's form behind the foggy glass doors of the large shower. Her hair was still up, and she didn't appear to be doing anything but standing in the corner of the shower, her forehead against the tiles, her arms folded above her head, a posture of dejection. Albus winced in sympathy. He quietly opened the glass door.

"Minerva." His voice was soft.

She raised her head from its point of rest, but did not turn. "Albus?"

"Ah, Minerva, my darling Minerva," he said as he stepped into the shower behind her. "Who else would look for you here, my sweetest one?" He laid a warm, patient hand on her shoulder.

Minerva turned her face slightly. "I don't know what it is, Albus, I just don't know . . . I . . . I was so excited about your coming back, so looking forward to it, to being alone with you . . . but then I thought of what I'd done this afternoon . . . it came back to me, and I thought I couldn't . . . have you touch me yet . . . not yet. It feels . . . wrong . . . no, not wrong, but just . . . something. I don't know . . . ," she ended in a whisper.

Albus stepped closer to her, and on her back, she could feel his warmth radiating from him.

"Mmm. So another shower . . . ," Albus murmured.

Minerva nodded.

"Then I shall help you bathe, my love, my dearest one, and we will wash it away together, hmm?"

He Summoned a bath sponge, and at a whispered spell, it was filled with lovely rose-scented suds. Minerva sighed, closed her eyes, and relaxed as Albus ran the sponge over her back. He reached up and gently brought first one then the other of her arms down to her sides, sliding the soapy sponge over each one in turn before kneeling behind her to wash her legs and buttocks. As he washed her legs, he kissed the soft cheeks before him and felt Minerva shudder slightly as he did so, but she offered no protest. Albus brought the sponge up and down her legs, gliding his hand between them, and was pleased when she finally relaxed and allowed him to sponge her tender crux, but he did not linger there.

As he stood, Albus reached around Minerva and gently bathed her stomach, then her chest, and finally her breasts, circling each one, spiralling the sponge in toward one nipple then out again to find the other. He worked his way up, bathing her throat and the nape of her neck, planting petal-soft kisses on her shoulders as he did so. Minerva was almost limp now, one hand on the tile, her head tilted forward and resting in the angle of the two walls.

"Won't you turn around for me now, my dear Minerva?" Albus whispered.

As Minerva turned to face him, Albus gently guided her, and when he brought his hand to her face, he tenderly wiped her silent tears away. Then the sponge was gone, and his fingers traced her features, feather-light touches to her brow, eyes, cheeks, lips, nose. His own eyes filled with tears as he bent and kissed her forehead softly, softly. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her hair and his tears leaked out to fall on her brow.

Minerva raised her hands and held his face between them, gazing into his eyes. "Albus . . . oh, Albus," she sighed, relief mingled with pain.

He smiled reassuringly and kissed her lips lightly once, then again.

"Mmm, Albus." Minerva rested her head on his shoulder and he drew her closer. The shower had stopped, though she barely noticed, aware only that now she could hear his heartbeat. His breath washed over her, and she raised her face to breathe it in. "Oh, gods, Albus, I love you so." She sighed and rested her weight more heavily against him, relishing the sensation of his magic thrumming with his pulse, like an orchestra performing a symphony.

Albus tilted Minerva's face and kissed her mouth, savouring her hum of satisfaction.

"Tell me, Albus, say it to me, please." She gazed up at him imploringly.

He knew what she wanted to hear. But this time he did not protest and barely even hesitated before saying the words he so seldom uttered, and never of his own accord. "You are mine, Minerva." And he kissed her again.

Minerva deepened the kiss before pulling back slightly and whispering, "Again, please, Albus, please."

"You are mine, Minerva, you belong to me," he repeated as he held her close, kissing her neck, then breathing the words again into her ear, "You are mine, and mine alone, Minerva. You are my love, my dearest one, my beloved, my heart, my wife, and," Albus paused, suckling her earlobe, before continuing, "you are mine. Mine. My Minerva."

Minerva's breath quickened with his words and his kisses. "Oh, Albus, I need you to . . . to make it all right . . . to wash it all away . . ." She gasped as his tongue found the sensitive spot on her neck and then his lips sucked on it. "Inside and out, Albus . . . oh, gods!"

His hand suddenly cupped her warm sex and his fingers caressed the soft folds sheltering her sweet entrance.

"Here, Minerva?" he asked hoarsely.

"Ahh . . . yes . . . yes, Albus."

"And here?" His finger gently slid into her. "Here, too?"

"Oh, please, Albus." Minerva wept against his chest, drawing a shuddering breath through his beard and choking a sob out again.

"Ah, my love, I do not wish to rush you or hurt you –"

"No, you aren't, please, Albus . . . please, wash it all away. All of it. Everywhere." She looked up at him, and, reassured, he smiled warmly, a twinkle in his eye.

"I think I know what might just do that for you . . ." He pressed against her, then took her hand and guided it to his erection. "Here, do you think that this" – he kissed her again – "that this might do the job, my love?"

"Mmm." Minerva returned his kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and drawing his into her own. "Mmm, yes, yes, Albus." She squeezed his cock, then whispered in his ear, "Hard, Albus, hard. Please. Take me hard."

She could feel Albus swallow and shiver before he whispered a spell, and she felt herself pulled from her corner of the shower, lifted, and pushed flat to the wall, her back pressed firmly against the tile. He could have done it nonverbally, but would not, wishing not to startle her. Albus withdrew a little and look into Minerva's eyes; she nodded slightly.

Albus's mouth met hers as he reached down and raised her right leg, urging it to encircle his hips. Minerva raised her other leg and brought it around him, embracing him fully. His erection pressed against her belly. She moaned and reached for it, but Albus took her hand and gently moved it away, breaking their kiss.

"Say it, Albus, please, say it again." Minerva caressed his beard, moving it aside, then kissing his exposed neck. "Mmm. Again, please."

"Not yet, my dear, not yet," Albus whispered as he fondled her breast and showered her hair with kisses. Then he drew back out of her embrace, gazing at her, still supported against the wall by the spell. He trailed his hand along her cheek, down her neck and her side until he reached her hip. His fingers swept across to the thatch of dark curls then down to her damp clitoris. He smiled at Minerva's sharp intake of breath.

"Now," he said in a low voice. "Mine. You are mine. Now. You are mine, my beautiful Minerva. You are beautiful. You are mine. My Minerva."

Minerva reached out, trembling, and rested her hands on his shoulders. Her lips parted, but she didn't speak. Albus leaned forward and kissed her lips, then breathed, "You are mine," into her mouth as his fingers continued to tease below.

He stepped into her waiting embrace, grasping her shoulder and pressing her hard against the wall; her legs went around him, and he drove into her deeply.

As his cock buried itself within her, he whispered in her ear, "You are mine, Minerva, always mine. Mine." Then, more loudly, as he began thrusting, he looked into her eyes and said, "You are mine alone, Minerva. Mine. Mine."

"Yes, oh, yes, Albus! I am yours, only ever yours! Yours! Always! Yours!"

She continued to murmur and moan as he drove hard into her, pounding his cock deep, deep, deep, thrusting again and again, the shaft of his cock rubbing against her clitoris each time he withdrew and his pelvis massaging it each time he drove home again. His shaft pounded into her harder and deeper as he breathed the words she needed to hear into her ear. Minerva felt heat and throbbing surge within her until her orgasm exploded and coursed through her in waves of pleasure, blinding her.

"Albus, Albus, yes, yes, oh, my dear Albus!" Minerva cried out, then collapsed against him, sobbing in relief and joy, utterly overwhelmed by the rush of emotion.

Albus held himself still, one arm under her legs, supporting her slightly, glad for the spell that kept Minerva from slipping to the floor. He kissed her neck softly, then her cheeks, licking up her salty tears, then tenderly placing his lips on each closed eyelid before kissing her mouth lightly. He brought his left hand around and cradled her head against him as her tears subsided.

"I love you, Minerva. I love you more than I can express." He kissed her hair.

Minerva drew in a shuddering breath then let it out in a slow sigh. "I love you, too, my sweet Albus." One hand was threaded through his beard, the other was at his back, clutching his hair. "Oh, how very much I love you!"

Albus kissed her hair once more, then asked. "A little better, then?"

Minerva looked up at him and smiled. "A lot better."

"Do you suppose we might . . . retire to the other room?" Albus asked, not wanting to rush her, but his legs feeling tired after his exertion.

Minerva nodded, and Albus withdrew, gently pulling out of her, then whispered a Finite, releasing her from the spell that had held her to the shower wall.

As Minerva stood and regained her footing, she reached out to touch him, still fully erect. "You didn't . . . ," she said questioningly.

Albus just smiled. "I'm fine. Really." He raised an eyebrow impishly. "More for later!"

"You're sure?"

"Mmhmm." He nodded. "I think we can finish the last bit of 'cleaning up' elsewhere, don't you?"

Minerva smiled brightly, feeling better than she had in days, perhaps longer. "Yes, anywhere you like, actually."

"I have a few ideas for that," Albus answered, chuckling.

Filled with love for Albus, and with gratitude that he had known what she needed and then had so willingly and openly given it to her, Minerva wrapped her arms around him, holding onto him tightly.

"Mmm, you feel lovely and warm, Albus," she said into his beard.

"I think we will both be warmer in the bedroom, though, my dear," he answered, softly stroking her back.

Albus opened the glass door behind them, took Minerva's hand, and led her from the shower. He nodded toward the door and it opened to them.

"Show off," Minerva laughed.

"I have far more impressive things for you tonight, my dear," he answered with a teasing grin.

He released her hand to Summon their dressing gowns from the other room, then wrapped her in hers, using magic to tie the sash in a neat bow, before draping his own robe around himself. His arm around Minerva, Albus led her into the bedroom. He gestured toward the bed, and Minerva sat on the edge, waiting for him to join her. Instead, he stood in front of her, parting her knees and pulling her toward him. He sighed and closed his eyes as he held her lightly with his right arm, caressed her with his left hand, and began removing her Charmed hairpins then combing his fingers through her hair. Minerva moved her head so that he could access all of the pins. When he was through with the hairpins, he whispered a Finite Incantatum to release the last of the charm Minerva had used to put her hair up earlier that evening, then combed his fingers through her loose hair, still black with a few strands of white waving through it.

"I still do not know whether I prefer your hair up or down, my dear, even after all this time."

She looked up at him, eyes crinkling in a smile. "I'm glad . . ."

"I think we need to call Wilspy, love," Albus said.

She leaned against him sleepily. "And why would that be?"

"Our celebration needs a little something, I think."

"Can't you just conjure whatever it is?" Minerva asked, yawning.

"I could, but I find the bubbles suffer some."

"Mmm." Minerva was happy just to lean against Albus as he ran his fingers through her hair and gently massaged her scalp.

"Wilspy!"

The house-elf popped in, beaming to see her two Professors happy and together as they should be.

"Can I serve Professor and Professor's Professor Minerva?" she asked eagerly.

"Yes. Champagne, Wilspy. Brut," he requested, knowing Minerva's preference.

Wilspy wasted no time, but Apparated away.

"You didn't have to ask for Brut, Albus. I'll drink whatever you like," Minerva said, knowing his preference for less dry wines and champagne.

"That is what I wished us to have, my dear," Albus answered.

The champagne and two flutes arrived, settling on the bedside table, Wilspy nowhere in view. Albus Summoned his wand from his robes in the heap on the floor, then poured champagne for them both and Summoned it to them. Minerva reached out and caught a glass in each hand as Albus put his wand in his dressing gown pocket. She handed him his glass as he stepped back.

His bright blue eyes met hers and he raised his glass. "To you, my dearest Minerva, my own heart. For all that you are and all that you have given me."

"And to us, Albus. To you and me together, as it always should be."

He nodded slightly and touched his glass to hers before drinking.

Minerva sipped the champagne. "My, this is nice. Thank you, Albus." She smiled up at him where he still stood in front of her. "But aren't you going to join me?" she asked, patting the bed.

"For a moment, perhaps," he said and sat where she indicated.

"Just for a moment? You aren't planning on going anywhere anytime soon, are you, Albus?" Minerva looked worried.

"No, no, my dearest, I am not going anywhere for a while yet. But I do still have to finish the task at hand, you know," he said warmly.

Minerva blushed. "You already did marvellously; if you're tired –"

"Not yet, my love." He kissed her cheek. "In fact, I can sleep late in the morning, if I wish. I don't have to be anywhere until lunch tomorrow. And I promise that I will hurry back, truly."

"Really? But what about classes?"

"Tomorrow is Thursday. Severus will take your sixth-year class and Remus will take the fifth-years."

"Oh. Severus and Remus. Well . . . they can't do much harm, I suppose. Although Severus . . . well, I suppose he has mastered the spells they will be practising tomorrow. Transfiguration was never his strongest subject as a student."

"I am glad you have no strong objections, my dear, since Remus will be taking all of your classes on Friday and Monday, as well."

"I am glad that you will have more time for your own work, Albus."

"I do not consider you to be work, my dear Minerva."

Minerva raised her eyebrows.

"Well, I will probably have to do some work during that time, but only what I can do while I am here with you, and not much of that. I cancelled my meeting at the Ministry on Monday morning – they are beginning to become used to my sudden unavailability of late, anyway – and arranged for Filius to take over the day-to-day operations of the school. I am sorry we are not going anywhere, my dear, but perhaps we could look at this as a little private holiday?"

Minerva smiled, delighted. "Oh, I would like that, Albus! If you are sure –"

"I am sure, my dear. Absolutely. I will need to be away from home a lot in the coming months; I want to make the time we do have together special. And since we can sequester ourselves from the world this weekend, I thought we should avail ourselves of the opportunity. If you like, of course."

Albus smiled, seeing Minerva's evident approval written in her expression, and leaned over to kiss her. As she responded to his lips on hers, Albus let go of his champagne glass and it floated, unnoticed, to the bedside table. Catching Minerva's glass before she dropped it, he did the same with hers. Albus leaned forward more, forcing her to lie back on the bed, then covering her with his body, kissing her more deeply before sitting up and shrugging out of his robe. He winced slightly as his right hand became caught in the sleeve before he shook it free. Minerva began to sit up to help him, but he put out his left hand and pressed her back to the bed.

Albus smiled and looked at her intently, slowly pulling on one end of the sash holding her bathrobe closed. As it came loose, he moved his hand to her neck and trailed his fingers down, lightly caressing the red and pink scars on her chest, then down to her stomach, smiling when her skin jumped involuntarily at his touch and gratified to see Minerva's flush grow and her breath begin to come in quick, shallow gasps as she watched his process through eyes half open. He reached the sash and one last tug allowed the dressing gown to fall completely open.

His warm hand caressed her, breast, stomach, hip, and breast again. His blue eyes darkened as he gazed at her, his expression rapt, his lips slightly parted.

"Beautiful. So, so beautiful. The most beautiful woman, the most beautiful anything, I have ever seen."

Minerva opened her mouth to protest – age, use, custom. But the adoring expression in his eyes stopped her, and she just smiled, then looked him up and down, and said instead, "You aren't seeing what I am, my love." She caressed his arm, the only part of him she could reach easily without moving. "Gorgeous. Wonderful. Handsome." She grinned wickedly, eyeing his erection, and added, "And very, very sexy."

"Flatterer," Albus said. Minerva shook her head, but he raised his right hand. "And this," he said, "I can't say this is attractive, and if you are honest, I doubt you can either."

Minerva reached toward him to touch the blackened, withered hand, and began to protest his words, but he stood and pulled away from her.

"And that is why I have a surprise for you, my dearest love." Albus called his wand to him, then said simply, "Accio!"

"What are you Summoning, Albus?" Minerva asked, curious.

"A little something left over from Moody's trip," he said with a grin, "and a little something else."

A small jar flew to his hand from a pocket of his discarded robes. Minerva saw the dark, lumpy potion in the glass container and let out a gasp, recognising it even in the low candlelight. "No, Albus!"

"No?" he asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"No! No Polyjuice! I don't want to be with anyone but you – or even you looking like anyone else, especially not Snape, not after this week."

Albus merely chuckled and silently Summoned something else from the folds of his robes. A dark purple envelope sailed toward him. With the Polyjuice Potion hovering in front of him, he removed the lid and shook the contents of the envelope into the jar.

Watching the Potion react, Minerva protested again, sitting up, "No! No, Albus, please!"

"Lie down, my dear . . . if you don't like the results, well, they wear off in an hour or so." With that, Albus drank several gulps of the noxious looking Potion.

Minerva closed her eyes and flopped back, resigned yet unable to watch, but when she heard Albus let out a groan, she opened them to see him grimacing as the Polyjuice seemed to be taking effect. He was slightly bent over, cradling his right hand in front of him, and he turned from her. Alarmed, Minerva sat up. Something must be wrong with the Potion.

"Lie back down, Minerva." Albus's words came out in gasps.

But Minerva couldn't lie back down, though she didn't move from the bed. "Albus, Albus, are you all right?" she asked, reaching out, but not touching him, fearful as the skin of his back rippled alarmingly.

He let out a rush of breath and straightened, turning back to her, smiling. "I'm fine, my dear. Just fine."

"But what's wrong? What happened? Was the Potion tainted?" She looked up at him, examining his face, but other than a few beads of sweat on his brow, any signs of his earlier distress were gone, and there seemed no change.

Albus chuckled. "You be the judge of that, my dear." He took her face between his hands and kissed her, urging her to lie back down on the bed.

As his kisses moved from her mouth to her throat, then down to her breasts, Minerva moaned. He teased her right nipple with the tip of his tongue and caressed her left breast. She opened her eyes with a sudden intake of breath.

"Albus? Your hand! Albus! What . . . ?"

He raised up off her and smiled. "I do believe you, you know, when you say you want only to be with me, Minerva." Albus reached up and caressed her face with his right hand. He sighed and said, "So lovely to touch you properly."

"But how?" Minerva asked, flabbergasted.

"A little house-elf magic. For the last two days, Wilspy has been foraging the castle and grounds for hairs that I left behind before the accident." He grinned. "Severus's mention of Shed-Stop Potion put it in my mind. Wilspy used her unique magic and her familiarity with me to find and identify my hairs. I did my own tests on them, too, of course," he added hastily, seeing Minerva's wide-eyed expression. "Wouldn't do to have a mixture of hairs, or have them shed at times too far apart. The ones that I used today were all shed within a week before the accident."

"But it looked painful, Albus."

"Polyjuice is disgusting stuff, and the transformation is never particularly comfortable. Something Moody mentioned alerted me to the fact that it might be less comfortable than usual."

"What was that?"

"He said that he ended up 'pulling a Barty Crouch,' as he put it, and sipping Polyjuice every hour that he was awake – not knowing when he'd be called back, for one, but also because both gaining and losing the leg was quite painful each time the Polyjuice took effect or wore off. That prepared me for the possible discomfort." Albus chuckled. "It quite galled him, walking around looking like Severus for two days."

Minerva laughed with him, but then said, "Albus, you shouldn't have done this." She held both his hands in hers. "It's wonderful that you did, but it might affect the curse somehow, and it was clearly more than just uncomfortable."

Albus cocked his head as he looked down at her. "I did it as much for me as for you, my love. Only when I make love to you do I completely regret that injury. I cannot touch you properly, but I also have to be so careful not to knock the hand against anything or stretch it too much – pain can be somewhat distracting." He flexed his fingers. "And it feels perfectly normal now." He grinned at her, a sly look in his eye. "But how do you think it feels, my dear, that is the real question."

He leaned on his left hand, looking down at her as he teased a nipple with his right then lightly brushed his fingers along the side of her breast, then back up to the nipple. His pupils dilated as he watched his fingers circle her breast then spiral in to its peak. Minerva was watching his face as her breath quickened.

"Very . . . good, Albus," she said between shallow breaths. She swallowed. "But you are an awful tease, you know."

"Mmmm." His lips parted and he bent and took her nipple between them, gently suckling as he flicked his tongue across it. His left arm went under her, cradling her, as his right hand teased the taut skin above her thatch of curls, barely touching it, whispers of his magic brushing her skin, drawing blood and heat throbbing down into her moist crux.

Minerva raised her hips and opened her legs, but his weight across her as he moved his mouth to her other breast kept her from moving very much. She rocked her hips, trying to encourage him to move his hand lower, but he persisted in his feather-light, maddening touches, moving now from breast to pelvis and back to her breast again.

"Oh, gods, Albus, you will drive me mad." She pressed up into his hand as it passed over the skin below her navel, but he moved with her, maintaining his light caress. She moaned with frustration and desire. Albus had just made love to her in the shower, passionately taking her, more forcefully than he had in a long time, and she had come with an explosion, yet here she was, hungering for him again, afire under the touch of his lips, tongue, and fingertips. Even the light brushing of his beard on her skin excited her. Her breathing became heavier, and she tried to reach around to touch him, find his hard cock, but he kept her trapped beneath him as he teased her.

Albus began to kiss and lick his way down her body from her breast to her navel, pausing occasionally to nip or suck her skin, marking his trail as he went. His right hand played in her dark curls, tantalisingly close to her now swollen clitoris, but as his mouth began its path across her lower stomach, his fingers found her inner thighs and he teased Minerva there just as he had done above. His mouth was now at the hollow of her hip, nipping lightly as his fingers brushed her rounded thighs, coming close to her crux, but never touching where she needed him most.

He paused to look up at her flushed face. "You are mine, Minerva," he whispered, "and I am yours. I am yours forever." He kissed her stomach lightly.

And now he was pulling away, freeing his arm from beneath her as he moved further down her body and off the bed. Now his lips were on her thighs, kissing and suckling, as he knelt between her legs, one hand on each knee, spreading them wider. Minerva moaned as his hands travelled up her legs and his thumbs suddenly entered her from either side, then pulled out as his tongue finally found its way to her clit and licked it lightly, teasingly, before he began massaging her damp folds with one hand and penetrating her entrance with the fingers of his other hand, angling up and finding her sweet spot on the first thrust. Albus hummed with satisfaction at her reaction and bent forward to lick her once more. This time Albus did not stop. He thrust, massaged, licked, and suckled. His fingers and his tongue worked in concert to bring her greatest pleasure he was able to give. Minerva gasped and panted and called his name, insensible to anything but his touch and his presence.

Then she was filled with fire and light as intense pleasure drove through her in waves, and she came with a gush of sweet nectar as Albus continued to lick and suckle until she was spent and limp.

"Albus, Albus, my sweet Albus," she murmured, moving her hand to find his head and touch him. "How do you do that to me, Albus?" Minerva smiled as he joined her on the bed and curled up beside her, pulling her into his embrace.

Albus stroked her skin, dewy with perspiration, but said nothing, only kissing her forehead and sighing as he relaxed with her in his arms. Minerva snuggled against him, but after resting only a few moments, her hand drifted down to his erection. She smiled as she felt its heaviness in her hand and tilted her head to look at him. His eyes were closed and his face more relaxed than she had seen it in months.

Minerva began to run her thumb over the head of his cock as a prelude to more, but Albus kissed her, and murmured, "Not yet, my love."

He opened his eyes and looked into hers. "Let's wait until the potion wears off, hmm? And in the meantime, I think I would like to hold you and drink champagne and luxuriate in the wonderful peace I find in your arms."

"Mmm. That sounds like a nice idea," Minerva said, wrapping a leg around him and scooting further up on the bed.

They lay entangled like that for quite a while, despite Albus's professed desire to drink champagne. He ran his fingers through her hair and over her back and began to softly hum an air as he caressed her. Minerva's eyes filled with tears. She didn't know why . . . she just loved him so, and it was so wonderful to lie there in his arms and wrap herself around him. She wished they could stay like that forever.

First blinking away her tears, Minerva lifted her head from Albus's shoulder and looked at his face. He opened his eyes and smiled at her, caressing her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What of that champagne, Albus?" Even in a Charmed bottle, it would eventually go flat.

He nodded. "All right, my dear," he said, kissing her softly before releasing her to get the champagne.

As she poured the champagne, trying to pay attention to what she was doing and not to the bobbing of Albus's erection as he moved to sit against the head of the bed, she asked, "How long has it been now, Albus?"

"Hmm? Oh, you mean the Polyjuice? Almost an hour now," he answered.

"There's a bit left in this jar . . . you could take it, if you want . . . it's up to you, of course. But if the retransformation is going to be painful, well, you could put it off, and not waste the extra Potion, too, if you want. It looks like enough for a couple more hours, anyway." She didn't want to seem as though she were pressuring him, especially since she had earlier expressed concerns about using the Polyjuice at all. But it was nice to be able to hold him and not worry whether she was putting pressure on his hand, possibly hurting him inadvertently – not to mention that they had both enjoyed his having the use of it back.

"I didn't think you approved, Minerva," Albus said with a teasing grin.

"Well, it's done already, isn't it? It could hardly hurt to take a bit more now – could it?"

"No, I don't think so. Bring it here. I'll wash it down with a little champagne."

Grimacing from the taste, Albus downed more of the Potion, and, after swallowing several times, he followed it with a glass of champagne, drinking all of it to rid himself of the taste of Polyjuice, then held out his glass.

"Is there more?" he asked hopefully.

Minerva laughed and brought the bottle over the bed, sat next to him, her hip touching his, and poured him another glass, before sipping from her own. They sat and chatted, Albus telling Minerva more about what he had done that evening after he'd left her, including his visit with Severus.

"Hmm. So Hermione was leaving when you arrived?" Minerva wore an amused expression.

"Yes, looking quite dejected – the girl's rather a good actress for a Gryffindor."

Minerva's lips twitched. "And what was it Severus said to you, exactly, about his farewell?"

"That he wished her to enjoy her chocolates before bidding her a fond adieu!" Albus smiled at that himself.

"And she winked and grinned, he said?"

"That's what he reported. He was somewhat irritated with me at the time, but I don't believe he made it up for my benefit."

"No, I rather think he didn't." Minerva chuckled. "Well, he had told me that he gave her a box of chocolates." She shook her head, smiling. "Oh, my. And then, when he's back to being himself, he tells her he hopes she enjoys them – presumably sincerely, and not sarcastically. The silly wizard."

"What do you mean, Minerva? I thought you would be happy to have Severus . . . well, showing a softer side occasionally. In the right company, anyway."

"Oh, I am. But . . ." Minerva sighed, trying to think of how to explain this to a mere man. "You know how Severus usually is, especially around Gryffindors. Snarky, I think the students call him. Or a nasty bastard, as he calls himself. He's mysterious, intelligent, generally unpleasant, but occasionally quite brave, and certainly unattainable . . . and then he tells Hermione that he hopes she enjoys her chocolates. You do see, don't you, Albus?" At his blank expression, Minerva rolled her eyes. "Hermione was on the verge of a crush as it was, if you hadn't noticed. Halfway there, anyway. And after he asked her to fetch the sweets for him, I understand that she was – oh, how did Severus describe her? Rather brilliant? – in helping him, and no doubt she felt even closer to him since they were in cahoots. But she knew that he was being affected by the spell the entire time. Now, however, even a usually sensible witch like Hermione . . . well, when this mysterious, unattainable, and normally nasty wizard tells her he hopes she enjoys her chocolates and then puts up with it when she winks at him . . . the poor girl. And poor Severus. I doubt he has any idea . . . Her crush no doubt has settled in quite well now. Hard enough for her to have a crush on a teacher, but then to have that teacher be Severus . . . I'm sure that Hermione has sense enough not to try to have more contact with him than can reasonably be explained, but the poor girl," Minerva repeated, but although she was shaking her head, she was smiling. "If a bright Gryffindor can have a crush on him now, then perhaps Severus will have a life after all this is over, despite his gloomy prognostications!"

"Perhaps . . . ," Albus said softly as he sent his glass over to the night stand. He sighed. "Perhaps . . ."

"You look as though you hold as little hope as he does, Albus," Minerva said, furrowing her brow.

"No, no, my dear. I do hold hope for him and for his future, but there will be, without doubt, a great deal of pain for him on the way there. I do hope he makes it through, though, and I believe my hope is not a vain one."

Minerva placed her glass on the bedside table and sighed, resting her head on Albus's shoulder. "What is that Chinese curse, Albus? May you live in interesting times? I would say our times have been very interesting, indeed . . ."

"But worthwhile, Minerva." He kissed her forehead. "Better than to hide our heads in the sand, after all is said and done."

"Yes. You are right, of course." Minerva looked at him closely. "But don't you ever wish . . . well, that things might have been different?" She wanted to add "for us," but didn't, not wanting him to feel badly.

"Naturally, sometimes. But there is no point in dwelling on what was and what can't be changed." He sighed. "And I cannot change all that I must do in the future, either . . . but I can work to make the most of our time together. And I hope that I have done that, especially in those rare times that were somewhat less interesting. I am sorry if I have ever left you feeling neglected, my love."

Minerva leaned into his caress. "You are right, of course, about regret and the folly of dwelling in the past and wishing for what might have been. But you mustn't feel that you neglected me. You never did. You never shirked your duties, as you saw them, and I would not have wanted you to. But when you were here, when you are here, I never feel neglected at all. Not that we haven't had our share of misunderstandings and miscommunications, of course." Minerva smiled at him. "But you never neglected me. You are a man with great responsibilities; I have always understood that. It's not as though you were whiling away your time following the Quidditch teams all over the country, or staying out late and carousing, or whatever it is husbands do who neglect their wives. You never even buried yourself in your work to escape me, as I understand some wizards are wont to do. No, you never let me feel neglected; even when I missed you terribly, I did not feel neglected." She paused, then admitted, "Jealous sometimes, of the wizarding world you were busy devotedly serving, if I am honest about it, but never neglected by you."

"Good, I am glad," Albus said softly, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her and let out a long, slow breath. "I worry sometimes, and even feel guilty, about all of the times I have had to leave you and all that you have had to bear because you are with me. Particularly recently . . ."

"Don't. Don't ever feel guilty, Albus. I have told you that before. I chose to be with you, and when I chose to be with you, I knew who you were and what that would mean. I can't say I don't wish that times hadn't been different, but they were what they were."

"I always tried not to hold you too tightly, to let you always make another choice –"

"There is no other choice for me, Albus. Surely after all these years, you see that?" Minerva turned her face to look into his eyes.

"Yes," Albus whispered. "Yes, I do see that, though even after all this time, I marvel at it." He kissed her, gently moving his lips on hers. "Mmm. So blessed . . . ," he murmured against her.

Minerva moved to sit across his legs as he continued to kiss and caress her. She wound her fingers through his hair, pulling him toward her, trying to get even closer. His erection pressed against her leg as his desire for her grew, and she reached down to stroke him and caress him, her own excitement growing as she felt him twitch in her hand. Running her thumb across his head, she spread his moisture, and he moaned into her mouth.

Albus slipped his hand under her robe and began to tug it off of her. He drew back and smiled at her, breathing heavily. "You are wearing too much, my dear."

Minerva shrugged off her dressing gown, helping him remove it completely. Albus pushed her from his lap, never breaking off his kisses and caresses, turning her onto her back and lying on top of her. As he held her, kissing her and fondling one breast, she moaned and reached between them to find him again, then stroked him a few times before he pressed himself flat against her, trapping her hand where it was, still grasping his cock, but unable to do more than gently squeeze it rhythmically.

It surprised her when he suddenly pushed himself off of her, raising up on one arm, but then she saw him reach out his hand and Summon the remaining Polyjuice. Minerva watched as Albus drank off the dregs of the potion, making a slight grimace as he finished.

He dropped the jar to the bed and it rolled to the floor as he began kissing Minerva's neck and chest, then moved to her breasts, suckling one as he rolled her other nipple between the fingers of his right hand. Albus shifted and reached between them to touch her, sliding his hand between her legs, then inserting a finger and withdrawing it. He rose up again to look down at her face, taking pleasure in her flush and her glazed eyes, then he brought his finger to his mouth and licked it clean.

"Mmm. Tastes very, very nice," he said hoarsely. "Still so ready for me . . ."

"Always," Minerva answered.

"So," Albus whispered, "are you ready for the final phase of your bathing, my dear?"

Her lips twitched a smile. "I believe I may be . . . I think I rather need another good scrubbing in there, you know . . . followed by a special rinse . . ."

Albus kissed her mouth, this time running his tongue along hers, then flicking the tip of his tongue against the tip of hers. He pulled back again to look in his wife's eyes. She saw humour, warmth, and desire in his gaze.

"I think I can provide a 'special rinse,' my dear, if that is what you would like."

"Mmhm," Minerva's reply was swallowed by another kiss, this one growing in passion.

She felt Albus's hips rise off of her and one hand urging her legs to part further, then his finger was on her clitoris and she felt the head of his penis at her entrance. But he didn't thrust, and merely moved enough to gently stimulate her, stroking from her opening to her clitoris and back again. Minerva's breath grew ragged and she pulled from his kiss, gasping.

"Oh, Albus, gods."

"Must finish properly, my love," came his passion-roughened voice in her ear, as he continued to stimulate her with his head and shaft, still not entering her.

Minerva raised her hips, frustrated, her clit throbbing, excited by his cock's tantalising massage. And still he rubbed himself against her, slipping against her folds as she grew even wetter. Finally, Albus slid into her, and she gasped, but then he pulled out completely, two fingers gently squeezing her clit between them as he maddeningly entered, then pulled out, entered, pulled out, entered, pulled out, teasing and exciting her, the head of his cock stretching her and stimulating her nub with each stroke, and every time he delved deeper, and her gasps came in rhythm with his thrusts, until finally he withdrew no more, but drove in deeply, burying himself completely in her vagina. He paused and rose up to look at her, supporting himself with one hand as the other rested in its ministrations to her engorged nub.

Even after all their years together, the look of love, adoration, passion, and desire in Albus's eyes caused Minerva's breath to catch in her throat.

"I love you, Albus, I love you so much . . ." The words seemed inadequate, but she was incapable of finding any others at that moment.

Albus breathed out in a rush and answered, "You are my love, my sweetest one, my heart." He kissed her. "You are my heart . . . I love you always. My heart. Forever my heart. Forever."

As Albus spoke, he began to rock his hips, and he watched Minerva's face as he moved within her, then he shifted one leg outside of hers and urged her legs closer together until he rested with one leg on hers and the other beside her, his hard cock pressed between her legs as he withdrew and reentered, thrusting over and over again. Minerva tightened herself around him rhythmically as he thrust, and she saw his eyes widen with the first squeeze of her walls around his shaft.

"Forever, forever, forever, my love," he breathed as he moved in and out of her, gazing on her face, looking into her eyes, seeing them become glassier and more unfocussed as her orgasm grew near. "Forever, forever, forever," his words a mantra in rhythm with his erection as he stroked in and out.

Albus continued to murmur to her and to hold off his own release until he brought Minerva to hers. The sensation of her warm core tightening around his cock brought him almost unbearably close to the brink as he gazed down at her. And then it came, and he felt Minerva shudder beneath him as she clenched around his shaft, her orgasm pulsing against him.

As surges of pleasure rushed over her, Minerva cried out inarticulately, only two words clear, "Albus, Albus, my Albus! Albus . . . my Albus, my . . . my Albus!"

As Minerva continued to come around him, Albus drove in faster and harder, supporting himself with his left arm while his right hand gripped Minerva's shoulder, and, holding himself back no more, the heaviness, heat, and throbbing grew until his long-suppressed orgasm burst forth, a massive explosion of passion running through him, into her, bringing them to joined rapture as his magic rippled in unison with his ecstatic release.

"Minerva! Minerva!" His rough cry came in her ear, and his emotion and ecstasy seemed to prolong her own orgasm, as the ripples of pleasure continued to pass through her. "Oh, Minerva, Minerva, oh, my Minerva . . ." Albus gasped and cried, shuddering, pressing himself into her as her hands grasped at his lower back, pulling him toward her with an almost bruising grip.

When he was spent, he collapsed on top of her, covering her entirely, his face buried in her hair. Minerva's arms were around him, holding him to her, relishing his weight, one hand stroking his back gently and running her fingers through the ends of his hair, the other cupping his buttocks. Finally, as his breathing slowed and his heartbeat resumed its normal pace, Albus raised his head.

"I adore you, Minerva McGonagall. I adore you." His voice was hoarse from exertion and passion.

Minerva brought her hand to his face and gently wiped away the mix of sweat and tears. "And I adore you, Albus." Looking into his eyes, she said softly, "And, whatever you may think of it, I am yours."

He kissed her cheek. "And I am yours. Always. You hold my heart."

"As you have held mine. Forever, Albus."

"Forever. Forever," he whispered.

They lay there a while longer before Albus rolled off of her, lying on his back, his left arm partially beneath her, his right hand thrown above his head. Minerva watched as he relaxed beside her, breathing evenly and deeply. She felt she would never tire of his face. And he looked so peaceful . . . so happy. She sighed. His troubles seemed to weigh on him more and more lately, yet he would not share them all with her, always saying "later," "not yet," "better not now" . . . and Minerva worried that "later" might become "too late." She squelched that thought, banishing it with a kiss to her husband's cheek. She had thought him asleep, but his eyes opened.

Albus smiled. "Watching me, hmm? Caught you!"

It was an old joke from the early days of their courtship, when Minerva worried that everyone would see how she looked at him, and how, when they were alone, she couldn't help watching him and would tear her eyes away, embarrassed, when he caught her staring. Finally, he made a joke of it, and then confessed to having the same trouble . . . wanting to look at nothing but her whenever she was in the same room with him.

Minerva laughed and kissed him properly. "Mmm. A witch can't cast any secret glances at her husband? Or cast glances at her secret husband?"

Albus chuckled, himself, then sat up. "I should use the bathroom now – the Potion will be wearing off soon."

"All right – but you needn't stay in there for that. I will be fine with it, now that I am prepared."

"I know, but . . ." He hesitated.

"But?" Minerva prodded.

"Alastor said that the reversion was worse . . ."

"All the more reason you should be in here, comfortable with me, not in the hard, cold bathroom." Never mind that the bathroom was kept at a constant temperature; it was stark and barren.

Albus nodded, acquiescing. "The loo, then, quickly, and I will be back."

Minerva listened to him through the partially opened door as he used the loo and washed his hands. He hummed to himself, not the sweet melody from his childhood that he had hummed to her earlier, but something else, something sadder, beautiful, but tinged with melancholy . . . as she listened, she recognised it. Barber's Adagio for Strings, the Agnus Dei. Albus had always claimed it to be his favourite piece of music, and although to some, its sadness may have seemed an unlikely contrast to his normally cheerful, optimistic, and light nature, Minerva knew that Albus's spirit was filled with notes of both great joy and great sorrow.

Minerva's eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away, swallowing and calming herself for his return. She would not allow melancholy into this room, not now, not again. This would be their haven away from the world, and she would not burden him with her worries for him or with her sadness. Comfort she could provide, and comfort she would give him.

Albus returned to her, a smile on his face, eyes twinkling. "Always a pleasure to see you, my dear . . . particularly dressed as you are."

"Don't be cheeky," Minerva answered, smiling, "or I will get dressed. One of my old lady nighties with a high neck, long sleeves, and too much fabric." While he had snagged his dressing gown on the way to the loo and had donned it, Minerva was still lying naked on the bed.

"Heavens, no, we can't have that." He sat down beside her and looked at his wand hand. "It won't be long now, I think."

"Mm, come here, love, lie down beside me. I will hold you." Minerva patted the bed.

Minerva Summoned the small pillow they used at night to cushion his hand. Instead of having Albus lying on her right as he usually did, though, she had him lie on his left side in front of her. She placed the pillow in front of him, and held him from behind, encircling him with her arms, pressed tightly against his back, her right leg thrown over his, completing the embrace.

"All right, now, Albus?" Minerva asked.

"Very. Quite comfortable. For the moment," he answered.

They lay there a while, Minerva occasionally pressing her lips to his shoulders, unable to resist kissing him when he was so close to her. Then Albus stiffened and let out a guttural sigh, biting back a moan.

"It's all right, love, it's all right . . . yell, if you want to. No one will hear. It's all right." She renewed her grip on him as she felt his skin and muscle writhing.

"Aaaah-ah . . . ohhh." His breath came in gasping moans as she felt him press his head into his pillow.

She wished she could bear his pain for him, but she swallowed her own tears. "I am here," she whispered.

Albus uttered a sharp cry as his arm jerked up off the small pillow of its own accord. Minerva caught it and held on, careful to avoid touching him anywhere near his cursed hand. His breath was coming in laboured gasps. Minerva winced as his hand blackened and withered with a crunching sound. Then, suddenly, it was over, and she heard Albus sigh beside her as his hand settled on its cushion. She held him still, pressing gentle kisses to his back and shoulders.

After a few moments, Albus stretched and turned in her arms. He looked tired, and his face was damp with perspiration, but his eyes were bright. "That was a lovely treat, my dearest," he said, kissing her nose. "Marvellous."

"Yes, yes, it was," she agreed, nodding, not wanting him to have any thought that she had not enjoyed and appreciated what he had done for her, though thinking that it was purchased at too heavy a price. She kissed his cheek. "But it seemed . . . an expensive treat."

He shook his head. "No, not at all. I am fine now. And it was but a moment of discomfort – gladly traded for the ecstasy we shared."

Minerva smiled and kissed his lips lightly. "It was wonderful, Albus. Thank you. But your hand, how is it?"

She sat up carefully, aware that his hand was nestled between them.

"No worse than it was, I believe." Albus rolled onto his back and let his sleeve fall back to his elbow as he gingerly held up his hand. "Yes, the same. No further along than it was."

Minerva scrutinized his wrist and lower arm where the shrivelled flesh faded from charcoal black to grey and then to its normal hue and healthy tone. No, it didn't look as though the curse had spread or been revitalised by the Polyjuice Potion or his reversion to his current form. She kissed his inner arm where the grey skin met milky white.

"Now, I think I need to use the loo and clean up a bit, myself. I won't be but a minute," she said.

"Need any help, my dear?" Albus asked with a naughty look in his eye.

"Hmpf. I think you were quite thorough earlier – for the time being, anyway – and both of us would benefit from some rest now." She pecked his cheek as she got up and went into the bathroom, not bothering with a robe.

When she came back five minutes later, Albus was lying supine on his usual side of the bed, eyes closed. He had removed his dressing gown and covered himself with the sheet, but it didn't look as though he had bothered retrieving a nightshirt for himself. Well, if he weren't bothering with it, neither would she, and she slipped between the sheets. Minerva smiled as Albus turned and put his arm around her, his hand coming to rest on the small pillow on her other side.

She doused the candles, then said, "Good night, Albus. Sweet dreams."

"Mmm. They are always sweet when you are here with me, Minerva, my love. Good night . . . sleep well," he murmured, already half asleep himself, but kissing the back of her head.

"I love you, Albus Dumbledore," she whispered. "I love you forever and always . . ."

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Note: This chapter grew, so I decided to divide it into two for your enjoyment. There is now one more chapter and an epilogue to go. I hope you enjoyed this installment!